Skyward Ambitions

With her clearance complete, Furina grabbed her tablet, tapping it awake. She studied the airport charts, her fingers hovering over the digital display as she plotted her taxi route based on the ATC's instructions.

"So, he told us to taxi via Alpha, then November, and then onto the run-up area, which is in Outer November," she murmured, her voice laced with focus.

Her eyes darted to the overhead trim knob. Reaching up, she twisted the trim knob two degrees clockwise, setting it to trim up for takeoff. She let out a small breath of concentration, then moved her feet purposefully to the brake pedals. With a deliberate push, she disengaged the parking brake lever, feeling the satisfying mechanical release beneath her foot.

She nudged the throttle lever forward just enough to get the plane moving. As the aircraft began to roll, she pressed gently on the brake pedals to test their responsiveness.

"Brakes are good," she muttered, her tone firm and decisive.

The airplane crept forward under her control, and she turned the rudder to guide the nose left, lining up with the taxiway. Her headset buzzed faintly with static as she glanced at the chart again. The signs on the pavement confirmed her route: Alpha.

She followed the taxiway, making a smooth right-hand turn, then transitioning into another left-hand turn to stay on Alpha. The rhythm of her taxiing felt almost like choreography, each movement precise.

As she rolled down the straight stretch of Taxiway Alpha, Furina pointed over to her 10 o'clock position, her gloved hand extending past the edge of the dashboard.

"Run-up area, right there. That's Outer November."

Neuvillette, seated calmly beside her, nodded in acknowledgment. "Alright. Proceed as normal."

"Roger that," Furina replied, her voice steady.

She eased back on the throttle to slow her taxi speed, making the small left turn to align with Outer November. The plane responded obediently, its tires tracing the yellow line like a pencil drawing on the pavement. As she entered the run-up area, she straightened the aircraft, gently bringing it to a complete stop. Her hands moved almost instinctively to engage the parking brake once more.

Reaching into her side pocket, she pulled out her laminated run-up checklist, flipping it open with practiced efficiency. She read the title aloud, signaling the start of her procedure:

"Run-up checklist. Parking brakes: Set with pedal brakes. Hold. Check..."

Her gaze shifted to the fuel gauges. Furina leaned forward slightly, tapping each one with the back of her knuckle. The needles held steady, confirming accurate readings. Satisfied, she looked below the gauges and toggled the tip tank quantity switch, observing the levels for both the left and right sides.

"Fuel quantity: Full. Checked. Fuel selectors..." She paused, glancing at the space between their seats. Her fingers brushed over the selector knobs. "Desired tanks—main tanks. Checked."

Her checklist came up again, her voice clear and rhythmic. "Mixture: As required."

She reached for the mixture lever, ensuring it was pushed all the way forward. "Full rich. Checked."

Her hand moved to the throttle lever next. "Throttle: 2000 RPM."

With a smooth push, the engine responded to her command. The needle on the tachometer began to climb steadily, its ascent accompanied by the low, throaty growl of the engine. Furina stopped advancing the throttle when the needle settled precisely at 2000 RPM.

"Checked," she confirmed, her voice cutting through the hum. Her eyes scanned the engine instruments next, a series of gauges and needles displayed in precise alignment.

"Oil pressure: In the green. Oil temperature: In the green. Ammeter: Zero. Fuel pressure: In the green. EGT: Holding steady at 1250 degrees Fahrenheit. CHT: On the green. Gyro suction: Four."

Each gauge received a quick tap to ensure functionality.

"Engine instruments: Checked. Moving to magnetos."

She reached for the magneto keys, her fingers steady as she shifted them from both to right, then back to both. Her eyes flicked to the tachometer, watching the needle's slight dip.

"RPM drop: 50."

She repeated the process, switching from both to left, then back again.

"RPM drop for left: 100. Total difference: 50 RPM. Magneto check: Complete."

A small smile crept onto her lips, a glimmer of satisfaction in her expression. "Next: Propeller. Three cycles, reduce to 1500 RPM, and check for steadiness."

Grasping the propeller lever, she pulled it downward, watching the tachometer as it descended to 1500 RPM. She pushed the lever back up, repeating the process twice more with deliberate precision.

"Props: Checked. Next: Carb heat."

She pulled the carb heat lever, listening carefully as the engine sound changed and the RPM dropped. She pushed it back to its original position.

"Carb heat: Checked."

Satisfied, she folded her checklist and tucked it away in her pocket. "Run-up checklist: Complete."

Neuvillette gave her an approving nod. "Nicely done, Furina. Let's taxi and hold short of the runway."

"Yes, sir," she replied, her tone equal parts respect and determination. She disengaged the parking brake once again, prepared to carry on with the next phase of the flight.

With a confident flick of her foot, Furina disengaged the parking brake once again. The Piper Comanche rolled forward smoothly as she guided it back onto Taxiway November. Her hands remained steady on the yoke as she followed the yellow line toward Holding Point November One. The markers on the ground came into view as the aircraft slowed to a precise stop just behind the bold, double yellow line, the edge of the runway looming ahead.

She took a quick breath, her fingers lightly brushing the radio controls as she keyed up the mic to make her call.

"Poisson Tower, Comanche November Alpha, holding short runway zero-nine. Requesting departure," she said, her voice professional but brimming with excitement.

The tower's reply came promptly, crisp and clear. "Comanche November Alpha, runway zero-nine cleared for takeoff. Winds two-five-zero at three knots. Contact Poisson Departure once airborne. Have a nice flight, Miss Furina."

Furina grinned, her excitement barely contained as she pressed the mic button once more. "Cleared for takeoff zero-nine, and contact Departure once airborne. Comanche November Alpha. Goodbye!"

Switching her attention to the aircraft, Furina reached for the switches under the yoke. One by one, she flipped on the strobe lights, the fuel pump, and finally, the landing lights, their soft glow illuminating the aircraft's path forward. She removed her feet from the brake pedals and nudged the throttle to begin taxiing onto the runway. The aircraft rolled confidently onto the centerline, aligned perfectly with the long stretch of tarmac.

Before pushing the throttle forward, Furina paused, her eyes flicking briefly to Neuvillette.

"Here we go," she said with a smile that radiated pure exhilaration.

Neuvillette nodded, his calm demeanor reassuring. "Let's go."

Without hesitation, Furina pushed the throttle forward to 50%, letting the engine stabilize for a moment. The Comanche growled to life, the vibration from the engine coursing through the cockpit. Satisfied with the stability, she advanced the throttle fully, unleashing the full force of the engine.

The aircraft surged forward, the roar of the engine building as the Piper Comanche began its takeoff roll. Furina kept a firm grip on the yoke, her eyes darting between the runway ahead and the airspeed indicator.

"Airspeed alive," she called out as the needle on the indicator began to climb. The aircraft felt light against the tarmac, and soon, she could sense it yearning to lift. With practiced ease, she gently pulled back on the yoke, pitching the nose up to about five degrees.

"Positive rate of climb," Furina announced, her voice steady but tinged with excitement. "Gear up."

Her hand moved quickly to the gear switch, flicking it from Down to Up. A faint hum filled the cockpit as the tricycle landing gear began to retract, disappearing neatly into the aircraft's undercarriage. Furina kept her focus, waiting for the telltale clunk that confirmed the gear was fully stowed.

Clunk.

She smiled as she moved the gear switch to the Off position. "Gear up and off," she noted aloud.

Next, she reached for the flap lever, moving it up to retract the flaps. The aircraft gave a subtle response as the drag decreased, and another faint clunk signaled the flaps had locked into their fully retracted position.

With the aircraft clean and climbing smoothly, Furina's attention returned to the instruments. Her hands remained steady on the yoke as she hand-flew the Comanche through its initial climb, her headset alive with the hum of the engine and the faint chatter of the radio.

Switching frequencies, she keyed the mic again, her voice calm and professional. "Poisson Departure, hello. Comanche November Alpha, out of 450 feet climbing to 4,000 feet. Inbound Ipsissimus VOR."

There was a brief pause before the controller's voice came back, clear and concise. "Comanche November Alpha, hello. Radar contact. Climb and maintain flight level four-zero. Continue as filed."

Furina nodded, her movements smooth and deliberate as she replied. "Climb flight level four-zero, continuing as filed to Ipsissimus VOR. Comanche November Alpha."

The rhythm of the climb settled into place, the Piper Comanche slicing through the air with ease. Furina glanced over at Neuvillette, a small, satisfied smile gracing her lips as the horizon expanded before them, the endless blue sky welcoming them into its embrace.

Time seemed to glide effortlessly by as Furina and Neuvillette cruised at 4,000 feet. The Piper Comanche hummed steadily, its engine a soft backdrop to the serene expanse of sky surrounding them. They were now an hour into their journey, the aircraft on autopilot. Both pilots took the opportunity to relax, taking in the scenery that stretched endlessly in all directions.

The horizon was painted in shades of blue and gold, the sun casting a warm glow over scattered patches of green and brown farmland below. Furina, seated comfortably in her chair, unwrapped a grilled ham and cheese sandwich she had packed earlier. The comforting aroma filled the cockpit as she took a bite, savoring the simple pleasure.

Neuvillette broke the silence with a calm, thoughtful tone. "So, Furina, I have to ask something."

Furina looked at him, her cheeks full, chewing quickly before responding. "Yes, sir?"

He leaned back slightly, his expression curious but kind. "What's your ultimate plan once you join Air Fontania?"

Furina smirked, a spark of determination lighting up her eyes. "Well, of course, I'll work with them, climb the ranks, and eventually… maybe one day, I'll join the main carrier."

Neuvillette smiled warmly. "That's a good plan. We all start somewhere, right?"

Furina nodded confidently. "That's right, sir."

Neuvillette tilted his head slightly, his tone growing more conversational. "But ultimately, what's your dream plane to fly?"

Furina paused, a hand touching her chin as she considered the question. Her lips curled into a grin. "Well, it'd have to be the Queen of the Skies, right?"

Neuvillette nodded, his expression one of understanding. "Ah, of course. The 747-400. It's everyone's dream to fly it."

He glanced out the window for a moment before turning back to her. "You know, Furina, it's not just Air Fontania that's taken notice of you."

Furina raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Huh?"

Neuvillette's gaze held steady. "Air Teyvat has also acknowledged your accomplishments."

Her other eyebrow joined the first. "They did?"

"That's right," he affirmed. "But it just so happens Air Fontania made the first move to hire you after you get your CPL."

Furina smiled, pride shining in her expression. "Glad I knew that."

Neuvillette continued, his tone informative. "Oh, and by the way, the airlines are codeshare partners. What this means is that other airlines—apart from Air Teyvat—can call you up to fly one of their planes. Which means you'll get to meet pilots from other nations."

Furina's eyes sparkled with excitement. "I can't wait for that!"

Neuvillette chuckled. "So, what's going to happen to your Comanche, Furina?"

She scoffed lightly, a playful grin on her face. "What's going to happen is it's staying with me. No chance I'm selling it. For as long as I live, I'll never sell this plane. It's my pride and joy."

Neuvillette smiled approvingly. "I see. I don't blame you."

Furina turned her attention to the window, the scenery outside breathtaking. The skies were crystal clear, with only the faintest wisps of clouds scattered across the horizon. The distant ground below shimmered in the sunlight, a patchwork of nature and civilization.

Breaking the momentary silence, Neuvillette spoke again, his tone more personal this time. "I have to be honest here, Miss Furina… You've got to be one of the most inspiring and talented pilots I've ever met."

Furina scoffed, half amused and half skeptical. "Really?"

Neuvillette nodded earnestly. "I'm not lying, Miss Furina. It's true. I've read that Pilots Magazine article about your story."

Furina turned her head, her curiosity piqued. "Oh? What did it say?"

He smiled, recounting the details. "At just 18 years old, you started your training. You graduated top of your class. In just four months, you earned your PPL. Then you kept going—getting your multi-engine rating and your instrument rating. Now, at 20, you're finishing your CPL and are on the brink of joining Air Fontania. You're about to make history."

Furina raised an eyebrow, a wry smile tugging at her lips. "Really?"

Neuvillette nodded again. "The youngest to ever become an airline pilot is 21. In fact, 21 is the required minimum age. But the Teyvat Air Commission made an exception for you. They permitted Air Fontania to bring you aboard at just 20. In a matter of months, you'll be flying the big airliners—737s, A320s—and working your way up to the giants. You're already Fontaine's youngest pilot, and soon, you'll be the world's youngest commercial pilot. Who knows? In a few years, you might even become the youngest captain in history."

Furina chuckled softly, shaking her head. "I wish, sir."

Neuvillette sighed, his tone contemplative. "It's true, Furina. Anything can happen. Remember that."

The conversation tapered off as they both returned their focus to the flight. The Comanche continued its smooth journey toward Petrichor, now just 45 minutes away. Furina glanced at the sky again, her thoughts alight with possibilities, her heart filled with determination.

Minutes later, Furina and Neuvillette were mere moments away from Petrichor Airport. The descent had been smooth and steady, with Furina expertly bringing the Piper Comanche down from 4,000 feet to just 500 feet above ground level. The airfield stretched out ahead, its runway clearly visible in the soft afternoon light.

Furina was focused, her hands steady as she went through the final checks. She glanced at her checklist one last time, confirming everything was set. "And that's the landing checklist complete," she said, her voice calm and confident.

Neuvillette nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "Nice work. Let's get that greaser."

Furina's lips curled into a determined smirk. "Let's."

Moments later, the radio crackled to life as Petrichor Tower reached out. "Comanche November Alpha. Winds are variable at six knots. Runway One-Eight. Cleared to land."

Without missing a beat, Furina responded with her readback. "Runway One-Eight, cleared to land. Comanche November Alpha."

She double-checked everything: gear down, landing lights on, fuel pump active. Satisfied that all was in order, she nodded to herself and gripped the yoke firmly with one hand, the other steady on the throttle.

The plane continued its gentle descent toward the runway, Furina's inputs precise and deliberate. The Piper Comanche responded smoothly, a testament to her skill and connection with the aircraft. Crossing the runway threshold, the plane glided over the landing zone. As the ground rushed closer, Furina smoothly pulled the throttle to idle, allowing the plane to settle.

The main gear kissed the pavement with a soft, satisfying touch, a perfect landing. Furina wasted no time, her hand darting to the flap lever and pulling it back to the "up" position—a practiced flap dump. The aircraft responded immediately, settling its weight fully onto the ground.

She pressed the top of her feet on the rudder pedals, engaging the wheel brakes with deft control. The plane slowed gracefully before Furina guided it off the runway onto a taxiway.

The tower called again. "Comanche November Alpha, welcome to Petrichor. Contact ground on one-three-six-point-four-five. Good afternoon."

Furina read back with her usual professionalism. "Ground on one-three-six-point-four-five. Goodbye. Comanche November Alpha."

As she taxied the plane toward the general aviation apron, Neuvillette gave her an enthusiastic thumbs up. "Nicely done."

Furina nodded, a satisfied smile gracing her lips. "Thank you, sir."

Twenty minutes later, the Piper Comanche sat neatly parked on the GA apron. Furina had completed her post-flight inspection, methodically checking the aircraft's systems and exterior. Neuvillette waited patiently as she locked the cabin door, finally stepping down from the wing with a stretch.

"Man, what a flight!" Furina exclaimed, her voice bright with enthusiasm.

Neuvillette nodded and extended a hand. "And that means the remaining two hours are officially logged. Congratulations, Miss Furina."

Furina beamed as she shook his hand firmly. "Thank you, Captain!"

He gestured toward a cozy restaurant nestled near the small airport terminal. "Let's celebrate and sign those papers."

Furina glanced at her wristwatch. "Thinking about it, it's already two-thirty. Exactly two hours of flight time—nothing more, nothing less."

Together, they walked toward the restaurant, a warm and inviting spot that served classic Fontaine comfort food. After placing their orders, Furina carefully signed the required paperwork, each signature a step closer to her dreams.

Neuvillette took the completed forms and shook her hand once more. "Congratulations again, Miss Furina."

"Thank you, sir," she replied, her tone heartfelt.

As their meals arrived, the pair enjoyed the brief respite. The comforting flavors of Fontaine cuisine paired perfectly with the relaxed atmosphere, allowing them to unwind.

Breaking the silence, Neuvillette spoke. "You'll begin your training two weeks after your practical exam. That should give you enough time to rest and prepare. You'll start with Air Fontania's Boeing 737 MAX. It'll be 21 days or more of instructor-led academics and simulator training for the type rating. After that, you'll have your check ride in the simulator. Once that's done, you'll officially be a 737 MAX co-pilot."

Furina nodded, her determination shining through. "Got it noted down, sir."

Neuvillette raised his glass, his expression filled with pride. "To your future, Furina."

She raised her own glass with a smile. "To my future."

The soft clink of their glasses punctuated the moment, marking the beginning of a new chapter in Furina's journey.

Later, the pair returned to the Piper Comanche. Furina performed her pre-flight checks with her usual precision, ensuring the aircraft was ready for their journey back to Poisson. With everything in order, they climbed aboard, and Furina took to the skies once more.

Two hours later, they touched down at home base, completing another leg of Furina's training. As the sun dipped low on the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, Furina stepped off the plane with an overwhelming sense of accomplishment.

Neuvillette turned to her, his voice filled with encouragement. "Another two hours logged, Furina. You're one step closer."

Furina nodded, her eyes sparkling with excitement for what lay ahead. "One step closer," she echoed softly, her heart soaring as high as the skies she called home.

As the sun dipped lower, painting the clear Fontainenian sky with strokes of gold and crimson, Furina extended her hand toward Neuvillette. The crisp evening air carried a sense of finality, yet also the promise of new beginnings.

"It's been a pleasure having you as my instructor, Monsieur Neuvillette," Furina said, her voice steady yet tinged with emotion.

Neuvillette took her hand with a warm smile, his grip firm yet respectful. "And it's been a privilege to have you as my student, Miss Furina. You've made every moment worth it."

For a brief moment, they stood in mutual respect and gratitude. Then, with a polite nod, the pair parted ways—Neuvillette heading back to the office to complete his reports, while Furina strode toward the parking lot, her steps light with excitement.

In the lot, Furina's gleaming blue Alpine A310 GT awaited her, its sleek curves catching the last rays of sunlight. She approached the car, popped open the front hood, and carefully stowed her flight bag and headset inside. With a satisfying click, she closed the hood and stepped back to admire her car for a moment.

A grin spread across her face as she hopped into the driver's seat, the leather interior cool against her skin. Before even starting the car, she bounced in her seat, the excitement bubbling over. The vehicle rocked slightly from her energy.

"Yes! Yes! Let's fucking go!" she exclaimed, her voice ringing with triumph.

She turned the key, and the Alpine's V6 engine roared to life with a deep, resonant rumble. The dashboard lit up, and the car seemed to share her enthusiasm, ready to take her wherever her dreams might lead.

The drive home to Narbonnais was as smooth as the flight had been. The roads were open, the night air cool, and Furina felt an overwhelming sense of accomplishment coursing through her veins. The glow of the city lights on the horizon marked her destination, yet to Furina, this was only the beginning of her journey.

As she navigated the winding streets, her thoughts drifted to the skies she loved so dearly. Today's flight, the hours logged, and Neuvillette's words of encouragement were milestones—stepping stones toward a future that gleamed with possibility.

She gripped the wheel a little tighter, a small smile playing on her lips. One step closer. One flight at a time. One dream at a time.

When she finally pulled into her driveway, the Alpine's engine settled into a quiet purr before she shut it off. She stepped out, stretching beneath the blanket of stars. Tomorrow would bring new challenges and new opportunities, but for now, she allowed herself a moment to savor the triumph of the day.

For Furina, this wasn't just another logged flight. It was the first chapter of a story she was determined to write—one filled with high altitudes, roaring engines, and a future soaring beyond the clouds.

And she was ready.