Skyward Ambitions

Weeks had passed since Furina logged the required 200 hours to complete her CPL course. It had been just over a week since she'd taken her CPL practical test at Poisson Regional Airport, a challenge she met with precision and skill, acing it with flying colors. Now, all that was left was the waiting game for her CPL license to arrive, an envelope carrying her dream, destined to land in her quiet Narbonnais suburb any day now.

The morning crept in like a shy guest, barely disrupting the calm that blanketed Furina's home. The air inside was still, disturbed only by the faint hum of her bedroom's air conditioner. Nestled in the sanctuary of her bed, she shifted lazily, cocooned in the softness of her comforter. But peace was fleeting. At precisely 9:00 a.m., her phone's alarm shattered the silence, its jarring tone pulling her from the depths of sleep.

"Ugh..." Furina groaned, rolling onto her side. She reached out blindly, her fingers fumbling until they found the phone, silencing its incessant chime. She let her hand fall back, the phone slipping from her grasp onto the bed. Lying flat on her back now, she stared blankly at the ceiling, her eyes half-lidded and heavy with lingering fatigue. With a soft sigh, she muttered, "There's nothing to do anyways..."

Dragging herself up, Furina rubbed her eyes, her arm brushing against the faint lines imprinted on her cheek by her pillow. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she let her face fall into her hands, pressing her palms into her cheeks for a moment of grounding. Then, with a reluctant groan, she pushed herself to her feet. A stretch was in order—arms high, her back arched as a wide yawn escaped her lips.

Padding barefoot into the living room, Furina made her way to the kitchen. The space was modest but efficient, and it always carried a faint aroma of coffee grounds and spices, no matter how many times she cleaned. Flicking on the coffee machine with a quick press of her finger, she leaned her elbows against the counter, watching the appliance hum to life. She felt the weight of her morning lethargy beginning to dissipate as the promise of caffeine neared.

Snapping her fingers suddenly, Furina muttered, "Gonna make myself a nice oeufs au plat Bressanne." A small smile curled her lips, a flicker of energy sparking through her. The thought of the savory, buttery dish perked her up. Nodding to herself, she pushed off the counter and opened the fridge, gathering eggs, butter, cream, and a small package of bacon. Her movements were fluid, practiced—she'd made this dish so many times it was almost second nature.

Setting the ingredients beside the stove, she crouched to retrieve a pan from the cabinet below. With a clink, she placed it on the glass stovetop and tapped the controls until the temperature read 375 degrees. The stove whirred quietly, warming up the pan with the precision of modern appliances. While the pan heated, Furina walked to the pantry, pulling out a bag of French bread. She plucked four slices from the bag, adding them to her growing collection of ingredients. She also grabbed a container of pre-cut chives, a pinch of salt, cracked black pepper, and a clove of garlic for good measure.

Returning to the stove, Furina hovered her hand over the pan, feeling the growing warmth radiating upward. She nodded to herself, a satisfied smile playing on her lips. "Let's start."

The kitchen filled with the soft sizzle of butter as it melted across the pan, its golden pools releasing a tantalizing aroma. Furina worked efficiently, cracking eggs with a practiced hand, whisking cream into their sunny yolks before pouring the mixture into the pan. The creamy concoction began to set, its edges curling slightly as the heat worked its magic. Meanwhile, the bacon strips crackled in a second pan, their fat rendering down into deliciously crispy strips.

The French bread toasted to perfection in the oven, its surface golden and crisp while the center remained fluffy. Furina worked with precision, layering each slice with the creamy eggs, a touch of garlic, a sprinkle of chives, and the crispy bacon crumbled on top. She finished each with a light dusting of salt and pepper, stepping back to admire her work. Twenty-five minutes had passed, but the result was worth every second.

She arranged the four slices of oeufs au plat Bressanne neatly on a glass plate and grabbed her steaming cup of coffee, the dark liquid swirling as she moved. Walking to the dining table, she set everything down carefully before sinking into a chair. The world seemed quieter now, the hum of her air conditioner a distant companion as she picked up the first slice.

The flavors hit her immediately—the rich, creamy eggs mingling with the smoky crunch of bacon, the subtle bite of garlic, and the freshness of the chives. She smiled between bites, savoring the fruits of her effort. It wasn't a grand morning, but it was hers, and that was enough.

As Furina savored her third piece of oeufs au plat Bressanne, the serene morning was abruptly interrupted by a knock at her door. Startled, she set down her fork and piece of toast, her brows furrowing slightly. Rising from her seat, she made her way through the living room, her footsteps soft against the tiled floor.

"I'm coming!" she called out, her voice carrying through the stillness of her home.

When she reached the door, she leaned a hand against the wall and opened it, her expression curious yet cautious.

"Yes?" she asked, her tone polite but direct.

Standing before her was a delivery man in a crisp uniform, holding a package in one hand and a clipboard in the other. He gave a quick nod. "Miss Furina?"

"That's right," she replied, her gaze flicking to the package.

The man extended it toward her along with the clipboard. "This is for you, Miss, from the Teyvat Air Commission. Please sign here."

Furina took the pen from him, her heart skipping a beat as she quickly scribbled her signature. Handing the clipboard back, she offered a faint smile.

"Thank you, Miss Furina. Have a great day," the man said before turning on his heel and heading back to the mail van, which hummed to life and disappeared down the quiet suburban street.

Furina closed the door behind her, the package tucked securely under her arm as she walked back to the kitchen. Setting it down on the table, she carefully opened the box, revealing a slightly thick envelope inside. She ran her fingers over it, her pulse quickening. With deliberate care, she peeled open the envelope, her breath catching when she saw what it contained.

Her Commercial Pilot's License.

It gleamed under the morning light, protected in a clear plastic cover. She stared at it for a moment, a smile spreading across her face as pride and relief flooded her chest.

"Finally," she whispered, punching the air in celebration before clutching the license close to her chest. The countless hours of training, studying, and dreaming had all culminated in this moment.

As she bit into her piece of oeufs au plat Bressanne with renewed satisfaction, her phone buzzed on the table. She reached for it and saw a notification from Neuvillette, her former flight instructor.

The message read:

"Good morning, Miss Furina. The folks over at Air Fontania would love to meet you today at 2:30 in the afternoon! Wear something formal for the occasion. See you at the Air Fontania Training Centre at Marcotte International Airport! - Neuvillette"

Furina groaned, her fist lightly thudding against the table. "What!? Today!?" she exclaimed, glancing at the clock on her phone. It read 10:45 a.m.

She sighed, shaking her head. "Well, there's still plenty of time. Better get prepared."

Determined, she polished off her last slice of breakfast, savoring every bite before placing her plate in the dishwasher and turning it on. Heading to her room, she opened her wardrobe, rifling through the neatly hung clothes.

"Something formal…" she muttered under her breath, her fingers brushing against hangers until her eyes landed on the perfect ensemble: a crisp white polo shirt, a dark blue coat, a midnight blue tie, and tailored black pants. She smirked, holding the outfit up. "This is perfect."

As she laid the clothes on her bed, her phone began ringing. She glanced at the screen and saw Navia's name. Answering the call, she pressed the phone to her ear.

"Hello?" Furina greeted.

"Hey there, Capt. Let's grab some lunch and catch up. How about that restaurant near Marcotte Airport?" Navia suggested, her voice bright and cheerful.

Furina nodded, a smile creeping onto her face. "Sure thing. I'll see you at twelve."

"Sounds like a plan, partner. See ya then!" Navia said before ending the call.

With lunch plans set, Furina grabbed a towel and headed for the shower. The warm water cascaded over her as she rinsed away the remnants of sleep, her thoughts bouncing between her upcoming meeting and catching up with Navia. Fifteen minutes later, she stepped out, wrapping herself in a plush towel as she dried her hair and reached for her watch. A silver Speedmaster with a navy blue NATO strap, it gleamed faintly in the light. The hands read 11:00 a.m.

She set the watch aside and began applying her makeup—a light yet elegant touch to enhance her features. Twenty minutes later, she was fully dressed, the ensemble fitting perfectly as she secured her tie and fastened her watch. Standing before the mirror, she admired her reflection.

"Looking élégante, Furina," she said with a satisfied smile.

Slipping on her black flat shoes with a small heel, she grabbed her wallet, phone, and keys before heading outside. The morning sun kissed her skin as she approached her car—a stunning 1967 Alpine A110 1600S in pristine condition. She ran a hand along its smooth body, appreciating its vintage charm.

Opening the driver's door, she removed her coat and placed it neatly on the passenger seat before climbing in and shutting the door. As she secured the five-point harness, the familiar scent of the car's leather interior filled her senses.

"Alright," she muttered, inserting the key into the ignition. The four-cylinder engine roared to life with a throaty purr. "Let's head over and have lunch."

Easing the car out of her driveway, she turned onto the quiet streets of Narbonnais. The engine hummed contentedly as she drove, the crisp winter air rushing past her slightly cracked window. The twenty-minute drive to the restaurant near Marcotte Airport stretched out before her, but Furina felt ready—ready for lunch, ready for her meeting, and ready for whatever the skies had in store for her next.

Twenty minutes later, at the restaurant near Marcotte Airport, Navia sat at an outdoor table, savoring the cool tang of her orange juice as she waited. The sound of a low, throaty engine caught her attention. She turned her head just in time to spot a gleaming Alpine Blue Alpine A110 1600S pulling into the parking lot. A smile spread across her face as the vintage sports car slid neatly into the space beside her Peugeot 205 GTI T16.

Furina killed the engine, unbuckled her five-point harness, and stepped out, the door shutting with a satisfying click. She locked the car with a twist of the key and glanced at her watch.

"Right on time," she muttered with a sigh of relief. "Good thing there's no traffic today."

As Furina entered the restaurant, the soft hum of conversation and the clinking of utensils greeted her. She spotted Navia easily, sitting at a corner booth near the window. Making her way over, Furina offered a small wave.

Navia grinned as she noticed Furina's attire. "Lookin' fancy, Furina! What's the occasion?"

Sliding into the booth across from her friend, Furina let out a soft sigh. "Got a meeting with the staff over at Air Fontania at two-thirty," she explained, glancing at her watch again. "That's in…" she did a quick calculation, "two hours."

Navia's smirk widened. "So, you're making the big leagues now, eh?"

Furina gave a small, modest nod. "Sounds about right."

Leaning in, Navia teased, "So… is it Captain Furina already?"

Furina scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Come on, Navia! I told you, just because an airline recognizes my achievements doesn't mean I get a free pass to Captain. I've got to work my way up the ranks like everyone else!"

Navia chuckled, shaking her head. "Yeah, yeah. You've always been by-the-book. Fine, no shortcuts for you."

Their conversation was briefly interrupted as their meals arrived—two plates of perfectly grilled steak frites, complete with herbed butter and a side of crisp greens. The aroma was irresistible, and they wasted no time digging in.

Between bites, Navia spoke up again. "So, what are you starting out as?"

Furina glanced at her, pausing to sip her water. "I'll start on the 737 MAX first. After I finish my training, I'll begin as a First Officer. Then I'll build up my hours, get more type ratings on other fleets, and eventually work my way up to Captain."

Navia nodded approvingly. "Sounds like a solid plan. But the ultimate goal is still Air Teyvat, right?"

Furina's eyes lit up as she nodded firmly. "That's right. That is, and will always be, my goal."

The two ate in companionable silence for a few minutes before Furina finished her meal. She set her utensils down neatly on the plate and leaned back in her seat, letting out a contented sigh.

"I can't wait to meet everyone at the airline," she said, a hint of nervous excitement creeping into her tone. Leaning forward, she added, "You think they'll like me?"

Navia laughed, her warm chuckle filling the space. "Of course, they will! They hired you for a reason, right? I mean, come on—you're the youngest CPL holder in the world, and you're about to start flying commercially. They've seen your achievements, Furina. There's no doubt they'll be impressed!"

Furina sighed, a small smile tugging at her lips. "I hope so, Navia. I really hope so."

She glanced at her watch again. Her eyes widened as she saw the time—2:00 p.m.

"Ah, crap! I better get going, Navia. I don't want to risk being late," she said, hurriedly gathering her things.

Navia stood up with her, pulling her into a warm hug. "Good luck, Furina. Knock 'em dead!"

Furina hugged her back. "Thanks, Navia. I'll see you soon."

Breaking the embrace, she waved goodbye and headed out of the restaurant, her heels clicking against the pavement as she approached her Alpine. Sliding into the driver's seat, she shrugged off her coat, tossing it onto the passenger side before securing herself in the five-point harness. The familiar rumble of the Alpine's four-cylinder engine filled the air as she started it up.

"Alright," she murmured to herself, gripping the steering wheel. "Time to make a good impression."

With a smooth shift into gear, the car rolled out of the parking lot, its iconic lines gleaming under the midday sun. The training center at Marcotte International Airport was only a few kilometers away, but Furina felt every kilometer carried her closer to her future.

Moments later, at the Air Fontania Training Centre at Marcotte International Airport, Neuvillette stood just outside the main entrance, glancing at his phone as he waited. The crisp afternoon breeze played with the edge of his coat, but his focus shifted as he spotted a familiar figure approaching. Furina strode toward him, her white polo and dark blue coat lending her an air of sharp professionalism.

"Captain Neuvillette," Furina greeted with a smile, stopping a few steps in front of him.

Neuvillette returned the smile with a nod. "Ah, Miss Furina. Your timing is impeccable. They'll be here any moment now."

Furina tilted her head slightly, curiosity piqued. "Who's 'they'?"

"The Chief Pilot and the CEO herself—Miss Chevreuse," Neuvillette replied smoothly.

Furina's eyes widened slightly, a flicker of excitement in her expression. "Oh, I see."

Right on cue, a pair of figures emerged from a sleek, black sedan parked nearby. As they approached, Neuvillette straightened, his posture immediately reflecting a deep respect for the two individuals.

"Captain Neuvillette," Chevreuse greeted warmly as she extended her hand. "It's been too long."

Neuvillette took her hand with a firm shake. "Likewise, Miss Chevreuse. A pleasure, as always."

He then turned to the other figure. "And Captain Clorinde, it's good to see you again."

Clorinde, the Chief Pilot, extended her hand with a confident smile. "Always a pleasure, sir."

Neuvillette gestured toward Furina. "Allow me to introduce Miss Furina. She's the new trainee joining the team."

Chevreuse turned to Furina, her expression lighting up. "Miss Furina, it's a pleasure to finally meet you." She extended her hand, which Furina took with a firm but polite grip.

"It's an honor to meet you, Miss Chevreuse," Furina said, her voice steady despite the nerves buzzing under the surface.

Chevreuse nodded. "The pleasure is mine. I've heard remarkable things about you from the Fontaine Pilots' Association. They speak very highly of your skills and dedication."

Furina felt a warm flush of pride but managed a composed smile. "Thank you, ma'am. That means a lot."

Chevreuse gestured toward the woman beside her. "And this is our Chief Pilot, Captain Clorinde. She'll oversee your 737 MAX training program and guide you through your type rating. You're in excellent hands."

Clorinde stepped forward, offering her hand with a kind smile. "It's great to meet you, Miss Furina. Welcome aboard."

Furina shook her hand. "Thank you, Captain Clorinde. It's an honor."

Clorinde chuckled softly, waving a hand. "No need to be so formal. Just call me Clorinde—it's what everyone does."

Furina blinked, then nodded quickly. "Ah, understood. Clorinde it is."

Chevreuse clapped her hands together lightly. "Now, shall we start the tour? I'd love to show you around and discuss a few things as we go."

Without hesitation, Furina and Neuvillette followed Chevreuse and Clorinde through the training center. Their first stop was a massive, air-conditioned hangar housing a long row of gleaming flight simulators, their domed designs looking both futuristic and imposing.

"This is where you'll complete your simulator training," Chevreuse explained, her voice carrying a sense of pride. "You'll run scenarios here, everything from routine flights to complex emergency simulations. It's where we assess your skills before letting you into a real cockpit."

Furina examined the simulators, her excitement barely concealed. "Does this apply to all fleets? Do trainees always get hands-on experience with real aircraft?"

Clorinde nodded, stepping in to answer. "For the smaller jets like the A320 and 737, yes. After your sim training, you'll perform touch-and-goes to build familiarity. But for the larger aircraft, like the 777 or 787, it's strictly simulators. Those aren't typically available for training flights."

Furina nodded thoughtfully. "Makes sense. I can't wait to start."

Clorinde chuckled, her confidence in Furina evident. "You'll do great. I've heard you're a quick learner."

Furina smiled modestly. "That's what my instructors used to say—Neuvillette included."

"That's true," Neuvillette chimed in with a smirk. "She's always been ahead of the curve."

Chevreuse continued the tour, pointing to a hallway on their right. "These are our classrooms. Before hitting the sims, you'll attend lectures to cover procedures, systems, and emergency protocols."

Furina's curiosity led her to another question. "How long does a typical type rating program last?"

Clorinde smiled knowingly. "It depends. For the 737 MAX or A320, about two months. Heavier aircraft can take up to a year. But knowing you, Furina, it might not take that long. I've heard you adapt faster than most."

Furina chuckled. "That's kind of you to say. I'll do my best to live up to the expectations."

Hours later, as the tour concluded, the group returned to the main entrance. Chevreuse extended her hand to Furina once more.

"It's been wonderful meeting you, Miss Furina. Welcome to Air Fontania."

Furina shook her hand firmly. "Thank you, Miss Chevreuse. I'm excited to begin."

Clorinde offered her hand next, her smile warm and encouraging. "Welcome aboard, Furina. We'll see you in two weeks."

"Thank you, Clorinde," Furina replied. "I'm looking forward to it."

As Chevreuse and Clorinde headed back toward the training center, Furina turned to Neuvillette, curiosity flickering in her gaze. "I've got to ask, sir… you seem to know them quite well."

Neuvillette smirked. "I do. Clorinde was one of my students years ago. And Chevreuse? She was my boss when I flew for Air Fontania."

Furina's eyes widened in surprise. "Really?"

Neuvillette nodded, his smirk softening into a smile. "That's right. Small world, isn't it?"

Furina stifled a yawn, suddenly feeling the weight of the day. "Well, sir, I'd better get going. I'll see you around."

Neuvillette patted her shoulder gently. "Get some rest, Furina. Big things are ahead. See you soon."

With a wave, Furina headed toward the parking lot. As she unlocked her Alpine and slid into the driver's seat, a smile crept onto her face.

It was official. She was now a trainee pilot at Air Fontania. Her journey to becoming a commercial airline pilot had finally, truly begun.