ALL NOVEL Chapter 62, Day 100: Daybreak
Just as a reminder, here's the character list of allied dragons:
Team Pryce
English Name Real Name Sex Age Appearance Notes
Fathom Huroumh M 52 Blue hide, red eyes Him
Celeste Ahnoumh F 20 Blue hide, red eyes Fathom’s daughter.
Devotion Ghorrah F 439 Grey hide,
mostly frosted scales (dual-tone coloration between body and wing membranes),
gold eyes Old and feared dragon.
Top-tier fighter.
Kinder than she appears.
Fortitude Jooral F 437 Grey hide,
mostly frosted scales (dual-tone coloration between body and wing membranes),
amber eyes Crippled dragon.
Cannot fly, but is a superb ground combatant.
Extensive experience in crafting and forging things.
N/a Kharno F 271 Amber-yellow hide, blue eyes A very amicable dragon.
She is also an excellent fighter, though she almost never starts conflicts.
Echo Lakath F 71 Orange hide, pale scarred eyes Resilient individual who has learned to rely on echolocation instead of sight.
Sensitive about her impairment.
N/a Nanzo M 75 Yellow hide, blue eyes Decent fighter, but risk-averse.
Trespasser Sharnha M 75 Green hide, yellow eyes Cowardly and greedy.
Often sells information to others, though such behavior is not respected.
Team Callan
English Name Real Name Sex Age Appearance Notes
Aurum Qnaoro M 117 Golden hide, blue eyes Explorer who spends most of his time island-hopping. Unskilleld at fighting and dislikes violence.
Has never had to protect anyone before meeting Callan.
Xylem Helsha M 332 Dark green hide, partially frosted scales (dual-tone coloration between body and wing membranes), golden eyes Known as a herbalist who refuses to eat meat, and a skilled combatant.
Has extensive knowledge on plant-life.
N/a Wakori F 168 Blue hide, blue eyes Aurum’s mother
N/a Iakahn F 15 Turquoise hide, amber eyes Young dragon interested in exploring. Enjoys living and hunting on beaches, somewhat unique color derived from seaweed.
N/a Yintra M 188 Red hide, red eyes Woodcarver/Architect
N/a Eohmn F 133 Yellow hide, golden eyes Woodcarver/Architect
N/a Vhaka M 72 Blue hide, blue eyes Fathom’s old rival. Quite strong, very honorable.
N/a Yantha M 120 Red hide, red eyes Smaller, slightly older twin
(egg laid second, hatched first)
N/a Karoth M 120 Red hide, red eyes Larger, slightly younger twin
(egg laid first, hatched second)
Aurum drowsily blinked awake. It took him a moment to remember that Callan was tucked against his side, and a subtle shift of the wing confirmed that she was still soundly asleep.
He rubbed his eyes with his free wing; it seemed he was stuck here for the time being.
(Art by Rackiera)
His stomach rumbled, and the golden dragon briefly considered going off to hunt. The sun would have risen by the time he returned, and while he could adjust the sleeping bag to shield her face from the sun, that still meant leaving her alone on this ship.
Surely that was safe to do…right?
But…no, he couldn’t just leave her sleeping out in the open like this, so he set his head back down for a nap.
Some time later the sound of human footsteps woke Aurum from his light slumber, and his eyelids slid open to see Pryce walking towards him.
The male human certainly looked different from Callan – short, half-white, half-black fur covered most of his face and head, and wherever it didn't he could see skin that was noticeably wrinkled. Callan had told him that those were indicators of age among humans, though he wasn’t sure how old one would have to be to have white hair.
“Good morning,” Pryce greeted. “Have you seen Callan anywhere?”
Aurum only shifted his wing in response, revealing the lump that laid against his side.
“Ah,” Pryce said, nodding in realization. “When she wakes up, please tell her that food is ready. After we eat we can talk about today’s plans.”
Aurum nodded, not wanting to speak unless it were necessary.
Pryce turned to leave, then paused. “I haven’t had the chance to say this yet, but thank you for saving her.”
Aurum cocked his head, faintly surprised by the sudden thanks. “I did not do it to help you,” he said, a little confused. “But you are welcome. It was…very interesting,” he added, feeling that he should elaborate. “I have never protected someone before.”
Pryce blinked in a way that Aurum thought conveyed mild surprise, but only nodded before turning away. The human left to talk to ‘Fathom’ and his daughter before heading back into the ship.
“Mmh,” Callan murmured a few minutes later, blinking drowsily. Her eyes shifted around for a few moments, processing her surroundings. “Oh. Right. Yesterday. Good morning, Aurum.”
“Good morning, Laishaka. Pryce was here a few beats ago. He said that food is ready, and after you eat we can talk about the plan.”
“Alright, thanks,” Callan said, rubbing her eyes as she sat up. “I’ll be back soon.”
“My original plan was to have Celeste and Devotion patrol south and north, respectively,” Pryce explained, laying out his labeled map. “Fathom will circle above the ship so he can listen for any incoming transmissions.”
“I see,” Callan murmured as she stared intently at the map, though Pryce felt that she seemed a little distracted.
“Is something the matter?”
Callan pressed her lips into a thin line. “Do you…know if Gordon will be on the rescue ship?”
Pryce shook his head. “None of the crew were named in the transmission,” he said, faintly surprised that she hadn’t asked about her husband sooner.
“Yeah, I figured,” Callan sighed. “We didn’t part on the best of terms, so I’m…not sure what to expect,” she said, answering his silent question.
“I…see,” Pryce said, uncertain of how to respond.
“Well, we’ll just have to deal with it when we see each other again,” Callan said, shaking her head. “Anyway, what was the plan if one of the dragons found the rescue ship before you did?”
“They’d use a radio,” Pryce said, gesturing to the pile of equipment. “I added a big button to the transmitter, so they'll be able to talk to the Daybreak even without one of us to help. They can’t adjust the frequency, but they won’t need to. If for some reason the radio doesn’t work then they’ll follow the ship until Fathom and I arrive. They can try contacting the ship if it gets too close to land, but that’s the worst case scenario.”
“I can go north,” Aurum declared, then paused as he realized he was stealing Devotion’s spot. «Erhm…may I go north?» He asked tentatively.
Devotion snorted, tossing her head. «Go ahead. I won't stop you from doing my work for me.»
“Guess we’re going north,” Callan shrugged.
“Wait, you want to go with him? Are you sure you’re up for that?” Pryce asked. A preliminary checkup had shown that her vitals were passable, but not what Pryce would have comfortably called ‘healthy’.
“I’m feeling much better today,” Callan said, brushing off his concern. “Besides, it’s worth the effort to make sure things go smoothly.”
“Good point,” Pryce reluctantly admitted. “But Aurum will need to fly as high as he can to get the most out of the radio; that’s about 5 kilometers, so you’ll need to bring warm clothes and an oxygen tank.”
“I can fly up and down, so it is not always cold,” Aurum added.
“Great,” Callan said, clapping her hands together. “Now, let’s see this flight gear you’ve put together.”
“Hear anything?” Pryce asked through the radio.
“Only you,” Celeste said, her voice crackling over the radio. “You can still hear me, right?”
“I can hear you,” Pryce confirmed.
“Nothing yet?” Callan asked.
“No, but it's no reason to worry; I wouldn't be surprised if they arrived tomorrow.”
“True. Let's just hope they get here before the Solstice.”
“Alright Celeste,” Pryce said, speaking into the microphone, “fly south like we planned. And don't forget-”
“-to use the radio, because if I don’t they will probably try to shoot me,” Celeste recited drily. “I know, we just had this conversation.”
“How old is she again?” Callan asked.
“Twenty.”
“Ah.”
“Well, just be careful,” Pryce said, and Celeste peeled away from her circling to begin her southward patrol. “How is it fitting?” he asked Callan, who had just finished putting on her version of the flight gear – thick clothes beneath windbreakers along with lab goggles with a plastic face shield, and a backpack that held the radio, flares, and oxygen tanks.
“I thought you did not like flying very much? Will this make it more comfortable for you?” Aurum asked, gently tapping the plastic face shield.
“That's because we were flying for days, and I didn't have stuff like this to protect my face,” Callan said reassuringly.
Aurum cocked his head, but seemed convinced enough to help her up his back.
“Much better,” Callan said, securing herself in place with a few clicks of the carabiners. “Are the chains uncomfortable, Aurum?”
“They are not comfortable,” Aurum said, turning his head around to try and get a good look at himself. “But they are not uncomfortable, and they are very pretty.”
“I guess they are pretty shiny,” Callan chuckled.
“Here's a radio transmitter, receiver, flares, compass, map…and of course, snacks.”
“Wonderful,” Callan said, smiling faintly. “Well, guess it's time to get going.”
“Good luck,” Pryce nodded, and Aurum leapt into the skies.
Pryce watched as Xylem landed on the unoccupied end of the ship, the herbalist maneuvering awkwardly to land without the use of his occupied foreclaws.
«I’ve brought more coffee beans,» Xylem announced, carefully setting the bag on the ground. «Have you found your ‘ship’ yet?»
Pryce shook his head. “Not yet. Fathom is trying to hear the ship right now. Hear anything, Fathom?”
[Still nothing,] came the scratchy reply through the radio.
«We haven’t found them yet,» Devotion translated.
«I see. Well, in the meantime could Pryce make more of that coffee ‘tea’?» Xylem asked hopefully.
“Well, I don’t have anything better to do at the moment. Let me know if Fathom hears anything,” Pryce said, the elder dragons nodding in response as he picked up the bag of coffee beans.
Celeste tried not to get her hopes up, but she still couldn't help but be disappointed when she was forced to turn around after hearing nothing all day.
She settled back into a steady glide, and panned her head around irritably. Qnaoro or her father would probably be the one to find the ship, but she was the youngest, so she couldn't exactly argue.
She had asked Pryce one day, after her patrols, why they bothered going south at all if the Mainland was to the north. The human had said that sailing was complicated, and that sometimes riding a current meant going a little off course. That made sense, of course, but that didn't mean she preferred to go this unlikelier route. In fact, she was starting to doubt that the radio would really work as Pryce said, what if-
[Crackle]
Celeste froze. Holding her breath she slowly panned her head (specifically the radio antenna) back and forth around the direction where the radio made a noise.
Nothing.
She tilted her wings, searching for a thermal to climb just a little higher. Just as she flew as high as she could, she heard it again.
[Crackle…di-di-dit-da-da-da-di…crackle…]
There, in the north-east!
Celeste paused, waiting for the rest of the message, but the odd pattern of sounds just kept repeating. Well, it didn't really matter what the message was; she just had to seek its source.
A rising sense of excitement bubbled through her chest – her patrol had drifted some distance to the east, and given her current position she had a real chance at being the first to greet the humans.
Celeste folded her wings and dove.
“South-east, right?”
“Yes, climb up!” Fathom said, urgently helping Pryce up. “The ship should be coming towards us, but Celeste might be close enough to get there first.”
«Is there anything we should do to prepare?» Xylem asked.
“Xylem is asking if there’s anything we should do,” Fortitude said.
“Let the others know what’s going on, but don’t tell them to come to the ship,” Pryce said. “It’ll draw too much attention, so have them gather on the island if you can. We’ll go tell them what happened once both ships are together. If everything goes well we'll be back in about seven hours.”
“Good luck,” the two elders said, and Fathom leapt into the air.
«Well, I’m a bit hungry, so I suppose I might as well go gather the others,» Helsha said.
«Kharno probably already knows where the others are,» Fortitude said, «so try and find her first, if you can.»
Helsha sighed as he leapt into the air. It took some time to cross the bit of ocean that separated ship and land, so he had plenty of time to think about how he would have very much preferred not to interact with the bothersome dragon.
Unfortunately for him, the irksome dragon was sleeping right on the beach.
«What are you doing here?» Helsha asked. The sandy area where she slept didn’t look like a very comfortable place to nap.
«The ship was too crowded, and I couldn't find anywhere nice to sleep,» Kharno said plaintively as she roused herself. «But more importantly, I heard you found Qnaoro and his human.»
«I did,» Helsha said shortly. «And no, I didn't know that you would be too late to see the Twins.»
«What?» Kharno asked, blinking innocently. «I wasn't going to ask that.»
Helsha stared flatly at her.
«...okay, maybe I thought about it,» Kharno admitted, «but then I thought that didn't seem like something you'd do – hey, where are you going?»
«I’m going to gather the others, but first I’m going to eat,» Helsha said shortly, hoping she would leave him alone.
«Eat? Wait, you don't hunt, right?»
Helsha sighed. «No, I do not.» He expected to be hit with yet another inane question, but the only response Kharno made was to continue padding along after him.
Helsha ignored her, instead focusing on the faint but familiar fungal scent that lingered in the air. He took a few moments to sniff out their location, and soon found a small clearing of mushrooms that popped up around the corpses of long-dead trees.
«Good enough,» Helsha muttered, and lowered his head to snap up a rather large scaled whitegill.
A powerful shove abruptly knocked him over, causing him to stumble and crush the mushrooms beneath his feet.
«What the heavens is wrong with you?» Helsha hissed, snapping into an offensive stance as he rounded on Kharno.
«Wrong with me? What's wrong with you?» Kharno spat back. «Those mushrooms are poisonous!»
Helsha resisted the urge to roar. «You think I don't know that?» he growled, «I've been eating them for centuries. They aren't poisonous to me any more.»
Kharno blinked. «I…what? You can do that?»
Helsha snorted, and turned away from her to inspect the crushed mushrooms. No good, they were all mixed in with the dirt now. He popped a half-crushed individual into his mouth and chewed.
«...Do they taste good?» Kharno asked hesitantly.
«Not particularly, no.»
«Then…why…?»
«Because. I. need. to. eat,» Helsha said, flatly enunciating each word. He turned back to eat, but Kharno didn't take the hint.
«But you have other things to eat back home, don't you? Why not just eat those?» she paused. «...unless you forgot?»
«I had other things on my mind!» Helsha snarled, baring his teeth. «Now, please leave, unless for once you have something important to say,» he drawled sarcastically.
Kharno still didn’t leave, and only cocked her head curiously. «Who hurt you?» she asked, in an infuriatingly gentle tone.
«...what?» Helsha hissed.
«You go through so much trouble to not eat animals, but you have so little patience with me. That means there’s a reason why you’re like this, and it’s not just because I stepped on one of your plants, is it?»
Helsha glowered at her for a few moments before turning away. «That is none of your business.»
«I suppose that’s true,» Kharno admitted, «but we are going to be working together, or at least we’ll be on the same side, so I thought it would be a good idea to clear the air between us.» She paused, evidently waiting for a reply. When no answer came she huffed. «I did find a nice yellowberry bush yesterday, and a beehive. I could show you where they are, if you want.»
Helsha silently mulled it over. Under normal circumstances he would have disdained such an offer, but hunger was a persuasive argument.
«Lead the way,» he grumbled, and did his best to ignore Kharno’s self-satisfied gait.
Celeste spent the last few hours not-quite following the direction of the noise. She was still headed for the source, of course, but she made sure to angle herself to the north in hopes of flying to where the ship would be instead of where it currently was. The young dragon had no way of knowing where the exact intercept point was, but that didn't mean she couldn't give it her best guess.
Finally, after what felt like forever, she saw a tiny plume of smoke over the ocean that almost looked like an odd cloud at this distance. A short time later and the ship came into view – it was a mere dot at this distance, but still unmistakable as an artificial construct.
“Hello?” She asked, once pressing down on the transmitter’s ‘on’ button. “Can anyone hear me?”
No response. Pryce had said that she might have to get within ten or twenty kilometers for the radio to work, so she angled her wings and sped towards her target.
Gordon Callan restlessly drummed his fingers against the table as he waited, the radio headset tight and uncomfortable after several hours upon his head.
He glanced outside the window as he often did at his post. In about four hours they’d reach their destination.
Four hours left for him to find Jane.
…assuming the Horizon made it to the island in the first place. For all anyone knew the ship could've sunk to the bottom of the ocean months ago, taking her entire crew to a watery grave.
Captain Siebert had warned them all to expect the worst at the start of the mission, publicly and privately. The engineer sighed at the memory. If it were anyone else he'd have told them to piss off, but the captain was different – his own sister had been on the Horizon, after all.
Gordon had to admit that something had likely gone terribly wrong for the Horizon to be so delayed, but that was no reason to assume Jane hadn’t survived.
He checked the radio for what felt like the thousandth time. Still nothing. The engineer sighed, and glanced out the window to try and settle his nerves. It didn't work very well, but it was a rather beautiful day; only a few wispy clouds obscured the otherwise deep blue sky.
On a whim, he brought up his binoculars to get a better look at a particularly odd cloud formation, and frowned.
There was a faint dot in the sky…and it seemed to be moving? It must've been a bird, but this far out from land?
Gordon flicked a switch, connecting the wheelhouse intercom.
“Hey Nash, you read me?”
[Yeah, I read you,] Nash’s voice cracked over the radio after a moment’s silence. [You hear something?] The lieutenant’s voice was calm, but there was an edge of excitement to it.
“No, sorry. Just wanted to ask how far we were from shore.”
[Again?] Nash sighed. [Our projected position is about a hundred and twenty clicks away, give or take twenty.]
Gordon furrowed his brow. What was a bird doing a hundred kilometers from shore? Could it be traveling to some smaller island?
“You ever remember seeing a bird this far out at sea?” Gordon asked.
[Not that I remember. Why, you see one?]
“Yeah. I was just thinking if things don't go right we could follow it, see if it can lead us to a nearby island.”
A pause. [Maybe. Let's wait until we get to the rendezvous point, alright?]
“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Gordon said, rolling his eyes. “It's a crazy idea, but we don't know where any of the smaller islands are; so I think it's something we should consider if we can’t find the Horizon.”
[Mmm,] came the noncommittal crackle. [So, how big is this bird?]
“Not sure. I can't make out any details. I think it's blue? And…”
[...and what? Gordon? You still hear-]
“Give me a minute,” Gordon said, cutting off a stifled protest with a flick of the intercom. He leaned out a window of his outlook and called over the first person he saw – a young man by the name of Scott, who was in the process of adjusting a bit of rigging.
“You hear something, Mr. Callan?” Scott asked, climbing into the outlook.
“Look over there,” Gordon said, handing over his binoculars. “See that bird over there?”
“You called me up here for a bird?” Scott asked as he peered at the target. “Huh. Weird looking bird. Looks like it's all blue, and it's weird…like something's off about it, but I'm not sure what. Hey, is that light supposed to be blinking?”
Gordon followed the younger man's line of sight to see the radio's indicator light blinking – he took a moment to process this, then scrambled to turn on the speakers.
[He…o? Can…hear me?] An oddly distorted voice asked.
“Holy shit,” Scott said, eyes wide.
“Binoculars!” Gordon barked, snapping Scott out of his stupor. He fumbled for the microphone, excitement rising – if they were close enough to be heard then that meant the ship had to be nearby, a mere twenty kilometers away at most.
“Horizon, we read you, but your signal strength is weak and distorted, please acknowledge. Repeat, your signal strength is weak and distorted, please acknowledge.”
It was only after the words left his mouth did Gordon realize the speaker hadn’t been observing radio protocol.
[Oh! Finally, someone…me!] The voice said. [...Wait, why are you calling me weak?]
Gordon’s eyes met Scott’s, the two men momentarily baffled in their shared silence.
“Er…come again? Who is this?” Gordon asked.
[Oh, yes, I forgot…introduce myself. I am Celeste, and…said I am…]
Gordon shot Scott a look as noise rendered ‘Celeste’ unintelligible. His fellow engineer looked as confused as he felt. There wasn't anyone named Celeste on the Horizon, and the baritone voice, muffled though it was by noise, was clearly masculine.
[…talk directly to you,] ‘Celeste’ said, his voice crackling back into audibility. [Pryce also said that I should ask if I can land on your ship.]
“Land on the ship?” Gordon repeated blankly, feeling as though he were missing several critical pieces of information.
“Pryce?” Scott asked, leaning into the microphone. “Is Doctor Pryce with you?”
[Yes…talk to you, once I am on your ship,] Celeste said, his voice notably clearer than when they’d first begun conversing – they must have gotten closer, but Gordon didn’t know what to think of the odd, stilted cadence with which he spoke.
“Yes, where are you?” Gordon asked, glancing at the user interface before him. The miniature light bulbs indicated that the antenna array was receiving a signal from the south-west.
[You are north-east from me, so I am flying towards you from the south-west.]
Gordon blinked.
“...Flying?” Scott asked hesitantly. “Did he say ‘flying’?”
Gordon muted the microphone. “I don't know what the hell is going on, but whoever this is has someone from the Horizon, go and tell the others-”
[Hello? Can you still hear me?] Celeste asked again. [Can I land on your ship?]
Gordon turned back to the radio as Scott clambered down the ladder, his heart hammering in his chest. “Don’t land just yet,” he said, playing along with the nonsensical speaker. “How many people are with you? Do you know where Jane Callan is?”
[No one is with me, but we found Callan yesterday,] Celeste said casually.
Gordon froze. Jane was alive?
[She and Aurum flew north in case your ship wandered off course,] Celeste continued, [and I flew south – oh, Aurum is a dragon too.]
“A dragon?” Gordon gritted his teeth, resisting the urge to snap. “What do you mean you ‘found’ Callan? Is she alive? What do dragons have to do with any of this?”
[What do you mean?] Celeste asked, sounding confused. [Of course Callan is alive, but I already told you that I am a dragon. Did you not hear me? I think you should be able to see me if you have something like those binoculars Pryce has.]
“No, I…uh…” Gordon stammered, unsure of what to address first – Jane being alive, or the fact that he was talking to a self-proclaimed dragon. He fumbled with the binoculars, a pit of sheer disbelief forming in his gut.
The ‘bird’ in the sky was closer now, enough for him to see that it wasn’t a bird at all.
[I’m flapping my wings, can you see me now?] Celeste asked as the dragon in the distance flapped his wings.
“Oh god,” Gordon said, feeling more than a little lightheaded. “Uh…don’t land yet, please?”
[Why not?] Came the confused reply.
“I, uh, need to tell the others first. Hold on.” Gordon cleared his throat and flicked a switch on the intercom. “Captain, there’s something you need to see.”
Captain Siebert slid the routine engine performance report into a folder along with its predecessors, and dropped the folder back into its respective place in the cabinet of his desk.
Next he pulled up a report regarding the assessment of the ship’s supply of food-
[Captain, there’s something you need to see.]
Siebert frowned as he set down the report. Gordon was usually quite pertinent, and this indirect manner of speaking was notably out of character.
“Could you elaborate, Engineer Callan? Did you detect a signal from the Horizon?”
[Not exactly. Look, sir, I just need you to come to the lookout, alright?]
Siebert furrowed his brow. He considered ordering the man to just tell him what was happening, but the uncertain – almost shaken – tone in the engineer’s voice decided him. “...alright, Callan, I’ll be right there.”
[Good. Please hurry.]
The captain briskly walked down the corridors of the ship, and almost ran into Scott as he turned a corner.
“We found the Horizon, sir!” the young man blurted out before Siebert could admonish him for running in the hallways.
Siebert froze, baffled by the conflicting information. “Are you certain? Callan just called me over the intercom and said that he ‘hadn’t exactly’ found the ship.”
Now it was Scott’s turn to freeze. “W-what?” He stammered. “But we just talked to someone named Celeste over the radio.”
“Celeste?” The captain frowned. He knew the names of each and every crewman aboard the Horizon, and not a single one of them had that unique name. “I believe Mr. Callan owes us an explanation.”
“Captain,” Gordon greeted as Captain Siebert climbed into the lookout.
“Callan,” Captain Siebert greeted. “What seems to be the issue?”
Gordon gestured to the radio as Scott joined them inside the cramped room. “A few minutes ago we began to receive a radio transmission. At first I assumed it was the Horizon, but it turns out the signal was coming from…that.”
Captain Siebert looked up and blanched. “Heavens…what is that?” he demanded, baffled by the sheer size of the creature in the sky.
“You might want to use these,” Gordon said, handing him the pair of binoculars.
“...that’s…!” Siebert tore his eyes away from the binocular to stare at Gordon, who shrugged helplessly.
“Celeste, say hello to Captain Siebert,” Gordon said, speaking into the radio.
[Hello Captain Siebert. Can I land on your ship?]
“Who…are you saying that-”
“The signal appears to be coming from that dragon over there, yes,” Gordon nodded, muting the microphone. “Apparently he learned English from Doctor Pryce and Jane,” Gordon paused, his eyes wary and full of uncertainty. “You might want to sit down for this next part, Captain.”
Siebert stared, confusion evident on his face. “Well what’s the problem? Doesn’t he know where the Horizon and her crew are?”
“Celeste, please tell the Captain what you just told me.”
[Every human on the Horizon died before reaching the island except for-]
“What?” Captain Siebert said, his normally commanding voice suddenly sounding quite frail in the stunned silence. “Everyone? How?”
[Well, not everyone. Everyone got sick, and there was a storm which made everything worse. Only Pryce and Callan survived.]
“They got sick?” Siebert asked incredulously. “How did sickness kill damn near everyone? What sickness was it?”
[I don’t know, Pryce didn’t tell me anything else,] Celeste said, his tone inflected with an odd rumbling quality.
“I…did Doctor Pryce tell you about a person named Eliza Siebert?”
There was a pause. [No, he did not mention that name to me.]
Siebert lowered his gaze, and for a moment Gordon could see the pain in his eyes – but only for a moment. Before Gordon could offer his condolences the Captain’s shoulders had straightened if nothing had happened. “I see. Please, tell me everything.”
A horn blared throughout the ship, calling all crewmen to the deck. The sounding of this horn did not necessarily mean an emergency, though there were very few benign situations which necessitated such swift summons. Excited murmurs filled the air as the last few stragglers assembled. Scott had already told several sailors the ‘good news’, which had naturally spread to the rest of the crew in short order.
Captain Siebert cleared his throat, and the men quickly fell silent.
“Some of you may have heard that we’ve found the Horizon,” the captain began. “I’m sorry to say that this is not entirely true. Fifteen minutes ago Engineer Callan received a radio signal,” he said, silencing the murmurs of disappointment, “It came not from a ship, but from an individual who has been in contact with the crew of the Horizon.”
Captain Siebert had decided that it was best to withhold the fate of the crew for now, and had ordered Gordon and Scott to remain silent on the matter. There was no reason to keep the truth hidden for long, but Gordon could understand why it was a good idea to save the bad news for later – specifically after the crew had recognized that Celeste was not a threat.
“Individual?” Edwin asked, the sailor crossing his burly arms in confusion. “What do you mean, ‘individual’? There’s no one else out here, Captain.”
“On the contrary, Mr. Baldwin,” Siebert said. “I – along with Mr. Callan and Mr. Harris – have spoken at great length with this individual, and as fantastical as it sounds, our guest is a creature that can only be described as a dragon who is capable of speech.”
Silence.
“Is this a joke, Captain?” The cook – a man named Leonard – asked, the look of utter confusion on his face shared by many of his crewmates. Some turned around, as if expecting a dragon to be standing right behind them, while others turned their eyes to the sky. “I beg your pardon, captain, but are you saying that we’re going to let a dragon onto our ship?”
“What the fuck is that?!” Another crewman – Ethan – cried, and all eyes shot up to the sky.
“The dragon is not hostile,” Siebert said, shouting over the cries of alarm. “He has sought us out on behalf of the Horizon’s crew. You can see him flying above us right now, waiting for me to give him permission to land,” he explained, but this did little to pacify the crew. “Enough!” he bellowed, silencing the crew before they could panic. “The fact that someone has taught this dragon our language is enough proof that they mean humans no harm, and my decision is made. Engineer Callan and myself will greet the dragon, all other crewmen are to remain below decks as a precaution. Lieutenant Baker, a word.”
“You heard the man,” Baker said, chivvying the crew belowdecks before turning to the captain. “Yes sir?”
“Take Nash and Campbell with you to the armory,” Siebert said, once the crew were out of earshot. “I want you three armed with the twelve-millimeter rifles, but under no circumstances are you to fire unless the dragon attacks first, understand?”
Captain Siebert saw a flicker of uncertainty in Baker’s eyes, but the lieutenant only saluted. “Yessir.”
“Good man. I don’t know if the dragon knows what a rifle is, but make sure he can’t see them, and wait for my signal to stand down.”
Baker nodded, then set about following his orders.
“You sure the rifles are a good idea, sir?” Callan asked.
“It will make the crew feel safer,” Sibert explained. Lieutenant Baker was a skilled marksman, but he had chosen Nash and Campbell for their tempered and steadfast personality rather than their admittedly unexceptional talent with a firearm.
“Uh, sir?”
Siebert turned around to see Scott jogging back towards them. “What is it, Mister Harris?”
“I was thinking it would be best if I joined you and Mister Callan, sir – we did talk to Celeste over the radio, I mean, so it might be a bit rude not to say hello.”
“Permission Granted,” Siebert said absently as he adjusted his coat. “Now, I think we’ve kept our guest waiting long enough, wouldn’t you say?”
Gordon watched as the dragon descended, awe and disbelief warring in equal measure. It was obvious that Celeste was big, but only in the last minute of her descent did he begin to realize how large he was.
And then he got closer.
And closer.
The three humans had to brace themselves as the buffeting winds threatened to knock them over, and Gordon could hear the sails snapping taut as the sheer force of the winds pushed them concave into the opposite direction.
He struggled to watch the dragon land through squinted eyes, and was glad to have done so – the creature somehow landed with barely a thud despite his ridiculous size.
Traditional depictions of dragons varied throughout the ages, but they were generally shown as a mix of various creatures – a crocodile’s scaled body, a tiger’s head and claws, and a hawk’s wings were often seen in historical artworks, while modern day depictions tended to give them a more natural appearance.
This creature, however…
“Sweet Una,” Scott whispered under his breath, and Gordon was not inclined to disagree; the dragon before them stood with grace and poise beyond what any painting could ever convey. Not even the bulky package attached upon his head could diminish his presence…at least, not by much.
Gordon shifted from side to side and saw no one on the dragon’s back. That package must’ve been a radio; Celeste really was by himself.
“Hello,” Celeste said, and Gordon realized that the odd brassy inflection he had interpreted as distortion was actually the dragon’s natural voice. “My name is «Ahnoumh», but humans can’t pronounce it, so you can call me Celeste.”
“Greetings, I am the captain of the ship, and my name is Martin Siebert. These two crewmen are Gordon Callan and Scott Harris.”
“You can just call me Gordon,” Gordon said.
“And you can just call me Scott, but are you sure you don’t want us to use your real name? Anouh…no that’s not right. Anoum?”
“Just…call me Celeste. It is easier for everyone,” Celeste growled, the penetrating rumble causing all three humans to take an involuntary step back. The dragon tilted his head, looking oddly confused. “Oh. Did I scare you? I didn’t mean to; I was just a little annoyed.”
“...Apologies, you merely surprised us,” Siebert said, sounding only a little strained.
“Pryce never seemed very afraid of me, but he did spend months talking to my father,” Celeste mused. “I will try not to scare you, but it might be difficult; you are all very small.”
“Thank you?” Scott said, though it came out more as a question.
Celeste stretched, arching his back in an almost catlike manner before sitting down upon his haunches. “Is there anything you wanted to ask me? Or can I ask about your ship now? It looks very similar to the Horizon.”
Gordon cleared his throat. “I’d like to ask about Jane, if you don’t mind. I’m glad she’s alive, but is she alright?”
“Oh. That is an interesting story. Callan fell into the ocean during a storm, but she was saved by a whale who brought her to an island. She survived alone until a dragon named «Qnaoro» found her and helped bring her back to the ship.”
“Saved by whales?” Gordon asked blankly, “Is that a joke?”
Celeste shrugged, his wings shifting up and down. “That was what she told us.”
“I don’t see why you’re so surprised,” Scott said, glancing at Gordon. “We are talking to a dragon right now.” He paused, tilting his head as a thought occurred to him. “By the way, how are you speaking English so well? It sounds like Pryce had to teach you, right?”
Gordon furrowed his brow; it was a good question. Celeste did speak with an oddly clumsy cadence, but it didn’t impede his speech at all.
“My father was the one who found Pryce and learned English from him, and my father started teaching me English eighteen days ago.”
All three men stared in bewilderment at the dragon.
“Did…you just say that you started learning English eighteen days ago?” Scott asked, his eyes wide with amazement.
“I first heard Pryce speak twenty days ago, but I really started learning eighteen days ago. Your language is very difficult to learn,” Celeste said in what seemed to be a mildly chastising tone. “My father speaks it better than I do, but he has had longer to practice. Is it my turn to ask questions now?”
“...yes, of course,” Siebert said, shaking his head. “Though I suppose first we should thank you for helping our comrades.”
Celeste blinked. “What’s a comrade?”
“A comrade is…like a friend,” Scott said, gesturing vaguely. “Someone who wants the same things as you.”
“Oh. Like an ally. Then you are welcome,” the dragon said, nodding graciously before turning to Gordon. “Why are you so curious about Callan? And why do you have the same last name?”
Gordon stood flummoxed for a moment, surprised by the personal question. “Of course; she is my wife.”
Celeste cocked his head. “I don't know what that is.”
“Oh…” Gordon rubbed the back of his neck, not at all prepared to define such a basic concept. “When a man and a woman want to spend their lives together, that man is called a husband and that woman is called a wife.”
“Oh, you’re Callan’s partner,” Celeste said, the dragon’s baleful red eyes widened as he peered more closely at Gordon, who tried not to balk at the sudden inspection. “Hmm,” he rumbled, “You three don’t have any white hair like Pryce does, and your faces have less wrinkles.”
“Doctor Pryce is an…older man, and that’s what happens when a human gets older,” Captain Siebert explained. “I think we’ve given the men enough time to see that you mean no harm,” he said, and signaled Lieutenant Baker to stand down.
“How many humans are on this ship?” Celeste asked, eyes darting around as he watched the crewmen exit onto the deck, though none of them immediately moved to approach the dragon.
“Thirty in total. Normally there would be more, but…” Siebert glanced away. “We had hoped to leave room for survivors.” He turned away and cleared his throat as the men began to assemble. “Well, gentlemen, I’m afraid the worst has come to pass: we have received confirmation that the crew of the Horizon were met with the worst of luck, and all crewmembers – with the exception of Doctor Pryce and Doctor Callan – fell victim to an unknown illness.”
“According to this dragon, I take it,” Dean Clarke said, his brow furrowed with skepticism, “With all due respect, sir, my brother was on that ship. We don’t know this dragon, how do we know if we can trust him?”
Celeste flattened his…spines? Frills? Whatever they were, they didn’t make him look very happy. “My father will arrive soon with Pryce, so you can ask him if you want, but I have no reason to lie. Also, I am female, so don’t call me a ‘he’.”
“...oh,” someone in the crowd said.
Celeste swung her head around, surveying the crowd. “I understand how you would not be able to tell if I was male or female, but why did you all think I was male?”
Gordon abruptly realized why the dragon had been given a feminine name, and felt rather abashed – he was fairly certain he was the first to refer to Celeste’s voice as ‘he’. “Human males are larger and have deeper voices,” he said, feeling somewhat responsible for this situation. “I didn’t know you were a dragon, and your voice sounded like a man’s. I apologize for not asking.”
“Humans are so weird,” Celeste said under her breath – an action that was well audible given the volume of her voice. “Does anyone have any other questions?”
“...you uh, aren’t going to eat anyone, are you?” Leonard asked.
Celeste drew her head back, her spines flattening against her neck. “Of course not! Why would I do that?”
The chef scratched his neck. “Well…er…you’re very big, and…you have very long teeth…?”
“That isn’t a good reason to think I would do that,” Celeste snorted. “Being bigger just means I have more meat, so if you think about it, it actually makes more sense for me to be more afraid of being eaten by you than it is for you to be afraid of being eaten by me.” She delivered this conclusion with a somewhat triumphant air, though most of the crew seemed too stupefied to appreciate this bizarre yet admittedly sound logic.
“I…suppose that makes sense?” Leonard asked, and silence fell upon the ship, with no one moving to speak for a few incredibly awkward moments.
Out of the corner of his eye, Gordon saw Scott raise his hand and step through the crowd to approach Celeste. “Sorry if this is rude, but…can I touch you?”
Celeste cocked her head. “Okay, but only if I get to touch you first.”
Scott glanced down at her formidable talons, each one the length of his forearm, and back up at her face…or rather, her jaws.
“I promise not to hurt you,” she said, evidently sensing his hesitation.
“Er…okay then.” Scott shuffled forward, then stood stiff as a mannequin as Celeste slowly raised a forearm. The crew watched with baited breath as Celeste slowly patted Scott on the head.
“Hmm,” she rumbled, then nudged his face with the backside of a talon. “Your body is so soft. Is that why you all wear clothes?” She asked, poking at a button.
“I think so?” Scott said, eyes still locked on her talons. “They can look nice too. The clothes, I mean.”
“That is true. You can touch me now, if you want,” Celeste said, extending her head. “Just don’t touch these, those are my ears. They are sensitive,” she said, pointing to her webbed spines.
Scott cautiously raised his hand, and gently patted the dragon’s forehead. The scales were tough, as expected, and surprisingly warm. The sensation itself was not uncomfortable, but it wasn’t anything like petting a dog – especially not with how Celeste simply stared at him throughout the entire process.
“Okay, that’s enough,” Celeste said, pulling her head away.
Scott lowered his hand and looked around to see that the rest of the crew had gotten closer, apparently emboldened by the fact that he hadn’t been eaten.
“...I did not realize there were so many of you,” Celeste said, drawing back in an almost…anxious manner? She glanced around, then shuffled back so her back was against a bulwark. “There…now, how about this: you tell me something I don’t know about humans or the ship, and I let you touch my head, okay?”
“I’m sorry about your sister, sir,” Gordon said. The captain had been standing off to the side, watching as the crew gradually became more comfortable with approaching Celeste once they were convinced that the dragon wasn’t going to eat them.
Siebert did not immediately answer, and Gordon was beginning to think he hadn’t been heard when the captain finally answered.
“She never did have the best luck,” Siebert sighed. “...We should have been on that ship,” he said, after a moment.
“We were,” Gordon agreed. “But we weren’t.”
“No. We weren’t.” Siebert closed his eyes and breathed deeply. “And now there’s nothing I can do for her. Not with…” he gestured towards the dragon, who was currently complaining about her wings being ticklish. “That.”
“Yeah. I don’t think anyone expected talking dragons,” Gordon said dryly. “Shit. Got any idea what we should do next?”
“We don’t have enough information to commit to anything yet,” Siebert sighed. “Apparently Doctor Pryce and Jane will be here soon, so for now, we wait.”
“...Right,” Gordon murmured. It was intensely uncomfortable to mention Jane’s miraculous survival when the captain’s own sister had perished.
“Gordon,” Sibert said. The engineer looked up, and saw a ghost of a smile on the captain’s face. “You’ve got another chance. Don’t waste it.”
“...Understood, and I won’t, sir.”
“This is the Doctor Alexander Pryce speaking. Daybreak, please acknowledge,” Pryce said. He’d begun repeating the request ever since Fathom had seen the plume of smoke emanating from the Daybreak, and he’d said those words dozens of times by now. The plume of smoke on the horizon steadily grew with each unanswered attempt, which didn’t worry Pryce – he was more concerned with the fact that Celeste may have already found the ship. The young dragon was usually quite level headed, but she was notably impatient when compared to her seniors.
“Still nothing?” Fathom asked, also not for the first time.
“Nothing,” Pryce said, just as he heard a crackle.
[Doctor Pryce!] a familiar voice said over the radio. [There…are. ‘Celeste’ told us you…was hurt.]
“Gordon is that you? Who was hurt?!” Pryce demanded.
“Someone was hurt?” Fathom hissed, twisting his head around to look at Pryce.
[No one was hurt!] Gordon insisted, [Damn radi…land first, talk later?]
“Right, land first, talk later,” Pryce said. “Celeste found them first, but it sounds like no one was hurt.”
“Oh. That’s good, I suppose,” Fathom grumbled. “At least she can do most of the explaining for us.”
Soon Pryce could see Celeste sitting upon the deck as Fathom drew nearer, as well as a lineup extending from the young dragon – though the congregation swiftly fell apart to watch as Fathom made his descent.
“How did you reach the ship before me?” Fathom grumbled as Pryce detached himself and clambered down onto the recently cleared-out portion of the deck.
“I had good wind,” Celeste said, her head held high in a self-satisfied manner.
“Doctor Pryce,” Captain Siebert greeted, “I’m glad to see you well.”
Pryce smiled, a bittersweet expression. “Likewise, Captain Siebert.”
“Is it true, then? That you and Doctor Callan are the only survivors?”
Pryce’s eyes wandered to the rest of the crew, their faces a mosaic of vain hope and dread. “I’m afraid so,” he said, drawing several expletives from the crowd.
“How did this happen?!” Dean demanded, stepping towards Pryce. “How the fuck did only two people survive in a crew of forty?”
Pryce braced himself, clasping his hands behind his back. “I don’t know. We all fell ill, and the illness seemed to exacerbate the symptoms of sea-sickness, but we were unable to identify the ailment.”
“You don’t know?” Dean snarled, “What do you mean ‘you don’t know’? Aren’t you supposed to be some great doctor?”
“That’s enough, Mr. Clarke,” Captain Siebert said, and the man’s outburst subsided into a smoldering growl. “Where are the bodies, Doctor Pryce?”
Pryce grimaced. “The tropical environment took its toll on the state of the bodies. I tried, but I was unable to bury them. My only option was to give them a burial at sea.”
“A burial at sea?” Dean hissed, his eyes bulging in outrage, “You couldn’t even have the decency to give them a fucking burial, and just dumped their bodies into the ocean? How hard is it to dig a fucking hole?!”
“You are being very rude,” Fathom said, his words rumbling with a dangerous undertone. “Pryce almost died trying to bury his crew. Why are you mad at him when you weren’t even there?”
“Why you-” Dean stammered, “I was injured, you-”
“Enough!” Captain Siebert barked. “Mr. Clarke, If you have nothing better to do, then you may go and see if the engineers require any assistance.”
Pryce sighed. “Please don’t be too harsh on Dean, his brother was one of my crewmates.”
“I’m not apologizing,” Fathom chuffed. “...Though I did forget that human siblings are important to each other, so I’ll forgive him if he behaves properly from now on.”
“I’m sorry about Mr. Clarke,” Siebert said to Pryce, “He’s a good man, but he is not taking this tragedy well.”
Pryce nodded grimly. “I understand, and I’m sorry about your sister, Captain. Doctor Siebert was a skilled colleague.”
Siebert nodded woodenly, his lips pressed into a thin line. “We must mourn our losses on a later day. Now, when can we expect Doctor Callan’s arrival?”
“They should be here in half an hour,” Fathom said, peering at the Captain and paying particular attention to the insignia upon his uniform. “So, you are the leader of these humans?”
“I am,” Siebert nodded. “Celeste says that we may call you Fathom, and that we have you to thank for helping Doctor Pryce.”
“That is correct,” Fathom nodded complacently. “But you do not need to thank me; I help Pryce because I want to.”
Siebert raised an eyebrow. “Still, your help is appreciated. It seems we have some time before Doctor Callan arrives. Please, tell us what you’ve learned.”
“Of course,” Pryce said, and began recounting his story.
“Any questions?” Pryce asked when he finished giving the abridged series of events.
Only a few crewmen were required to keep the ship on course, and given the extraordinary nature of events Captain Siebert had allowed the majority of the crew to stay and listen to Pryce’s story. Most of the sizable crowd consisted of men who Pryce barely recognized.
“So instead of living in groups, the average dragon is something like…a lone, self-sufficient woodsman?” asked one such man.
“That’s a good way of putting it,” Pryce nodded.
“Have you attempted to treat a dragon using Penicillin-G yet?” Doctor Hart asked. He and Doctor Corbin were the two doctors aboard the Daybreak, and they had listened with rapt attention whenever Pryce mentioned dragon biology.
“No,” Pryce said, shaking his head. “I haven’t had the opportunity.”
"I have a question,” another stranger said. “So when you two first met, Fathom – who you had no idea wasn’t a mindless animal at the time – lands on the Horizon, kills one of the color-changing raptors, and the first thing you do is to talk to him?” he asked incredulously. “You got a hell of a pair on you, doc."
Fathom shared a confused look with Celeste. "‘A pair’ of what?” he asked, looking to Pryce for clarification. “It sounds like a Draconic expression, but humans don't have horns."
Art by Rackiera
Pryce pressed his lips together, resisting the profound urge to sigh. “It’s a stupid human expression. I’ll explain later,” he said, glaring at the careless man who at least seemed to realize his error, judging by his mortified expression.
“I have a question,” another man said.
“Of course,” Pryce said, turning to the inquirer. At first he had been merely relieved at the distraction, but his eyes widened as he recognized the young man. “Mr. Harris? It’s been some time,” he said, shaking Scott’s hand. “I’m surprised to see you here, but I’m glad to see you’re doing well. Harris here was one of my students, five years ago,” he explained to Fathom.
“Oh!” Scott said, surprised. “I’m honored that you remember me, but please, call me Scott.”
“Well, Scott, what was your question?”
Scott paused, his eyes darting between the dragons uncertainly. “Do you mind letting Doctor Pryce ride on your back?” he asked Fathom.
“Of course not,” Fathom chuffed, “He is very light, so I barely notice his weight.”
“Great, then you have no problem taking me flying right? Please?” Scott asked, eyes shining bright with excitement.
Fathom flattened his spines and eyed the young man with a dubious air. “Why do humans want to go flying so badly? You don’t even have any wings!” He groused.
“Maybe they want to fly because they don’t have any wings?” Celeste suggested.
Fathom paused as he considered this. “Hmm…that makes sense, actually.”
Scott’s eyes widened. “Does that mean you’ll take me flying?”
“I didn’t say that,” Fathom huffed, “and no, because if I say yes then everyone here will want a ride, and besides, I can see Aurum flying towards us.”
Pryce looked up, and saw that there was indeed a vaguely dragon-shaped dot in the sky.
“That’s her?” Gordon asked, raising a pair of binoculars to his eyes.
“That’s her,” Pryce confirmed.
Five minutes later Aurum landed upon the ship.
“Hello,” the golden dragon said as a familiar woman dropped to the ground, her eyes locked onto Gordon despite her stumbling gait.
“Jane, I-” Gordon said, but was interrupted by Jane pulling him close and-
«What are they doing?» Aurum asked in hushed tones.
«I don’t know,» Fathom whispered back. “Pryce, what are they doing?”
“It’s called kissing,” Pryce said tiredly as he and every other human aboard the ship looked away. “It’s a thing humans do to express affection to their partners.”
“Weird,” Fathom huffed as Jane and Gordon broke apart.
“Sorry,” Jane said unrepentantly. “Promised myself I’d do that if I survived…that and apologize.”
“I’m sorry too,” Gordon said before sheepishly noticing the awkward atmosphere. “But, ah, we should talk about that later.”
“Doctor Callan,” Captain Siebert said, evidently ignoring her momentary indiscretion. “It is good to see you survived such a disaster.”
“It’s good to see you, Captain,” Jane said, “and yes, I’m…very lucky to be alive.”
Gordon leaned over to Jane. “Is it just me or is your dragon staring at me?” he whispered.
“I am not ‘her’ dragon,” Aurum chuffed. “And she spoke about you very much, so I was curious to see what you look like.” He sounded a little disappointed.
Siebert cleared his throat as he looked up at Aurum. “You’re Aurum, yes? Thank you for saving one of our own.”
Aurum cocked his head, likely confused by the expression. “If you are saying thank you for saving Jane, then you are welcome,” he said, dipping his head. “I can not speak your language very well. Please use simple words, or explain what they mean.”
“Ah. Apologies – er, sorry,” Siebert said, stumbling before swiftly recovering his composure. “I will try to use simple words. Doctor Pryce just told us about your allies; please tell us your plans.”
“Of course,” Jane said. “Every summer solstice the dragons hold festivals at certain locations. Aurum and I spread the word that I would appear at one of these locations, which means we can address a good chunk of the population all at once. I didn’t know that Pryce was around at the time, so Aurum helped me gather allies to prepare for the solstice gathering.”
“We have seventeen allies between the two of us,” Pryce added.
Siebert was silent for a moment, his brow furrowed as he processed this information. “How many dragons would you expect to be at this gathering?”
“Normally there would only be two or three hundred at this location,” Fathom said, “but many will be interested to learn about humans, so it will probably be closer to five or six hundred.”
“Your plan was to meet six hundred dragons by yourself?!” Gordon demanded incredulously.
“It’s not as bad as it sounds,” Callan said defensively. “It’s obvious that making allies of humans is a huge benefit, so we just need to appeal to their self interest.”
“This is the best plan we have,” Pryce said, “dragons have no unified body of government or any form of elected officials, so broad appeal is the only viable path.”
“I see…” Siebert said, chin in his hands. “Are you sure going to this…festival is a good idea?”
Pryce frowned. “What do you mean?”
“The rest of mankind knows nothing of this island nor its inhabitants,” Siebert began. “If we die here, not only does that not change, but we condemn every subsequent expedition by sending them to an island of hostile dragons.” he paused, letting the weight of his argument sink in. “Your allies must already know much about humans, and I see no reason why they cannot be the ones to teach the other dragons. As such, the most sensible plan of action is to bring this intelligence back to our homeland.”
“...what did he say?” Aurum asked Jane, who stood dumbstruck.
“You want to leave? Now?” she asked, baffled.
“Captain Siebert brings up a good point,” Pryce said, “but I don’t think it’s a good idea to jeopardize their first impression of us by disappointing them.”
“Leaving now is a very bad idea,” Fathom rumbled, “You can’t expect us to tell everyone else that ‘oh humans can do this and this, but they left so everyone just has to trust me’.”
“That is a fair point…” Siebert murmured. “What is the state of the Horizon?”
“Superficial damage to the hull,” Pryce answered. “The ship has about 40% fuel left, and some of it will have degraded a little in the past hundred days, which might impact engine performance.”
“Why not just do both?” Fathom asked. “You have two ships, so you can do both. One group of humans can stay, the other group goes home.”
Siebert froze. “I…would need to ask for volunteers,” he said slowly, and turned around to see a crowd of crewmen standing expectantly.
“Where’s Xylem?” Pryce asked as the crew of the Daybreak boarded the Horizon.
“Still gathering the others, I think,” Fortitude said. “This other ship looks very similar to this one,” she noted, watching curiously as the humans clambered from one ship to another.
“She looks the same, but she’s got a better engine,” a passing crewman said.
“She?” Celeste asked, "Why are you calling it a 'she'? Ships can’t make smaller ships...can they?"
“Of course not,” another crewman said, “but the Daybreak’s still a beautiful lady, isn’t that right boys?”
Several other crewmen called out their agreement, and their laughter only confused Celeste further.
“Humans just like to refer to ships as female,” Pryce explained.
“Hmph,” Celeste snorted. “Humans are weird. They also thought I was male before I told them I wasn’t.”
“Makes sense, since their males are larger,” Fathom said as he watched the laughing crew. “I thought these humans would be sadder about your crew,” he quietly murmured to Pryce.
“I don’t recognize most of these people. Director Kirk should’ve been the one who selected the crew of the Daybreak. She must have chosen people who weren’t too close to the crew of the Horizon in case the worst happened.” Pryce paused, frowning. “But it is strange that she allowed Captain Siebert to come when his sister was on the Horizon.”
“He was the original captain,” Callan shrugged. “He must’ve been most qualified.”
“That must have been the case,” Pryce murmured. “Speaking of, where is the captain?”
It didn’t take long for Siebert to pack his scant few belongings, but he ran through his checklist twice to be certain.
Nothing was amiss.
With packing done, he sat down in his chair and opened a drawer to retrieve a framed photograph. It was a family photograph, taken shortly after the outbreak was declared to be over.
Siebert stood smiling with her husband and son, who was now an orphan at 10 years old.
He wondered if he would ever see him again.
A knock on the door broke him out of his reverie.
“Come in.”
“Captain,” Doctor Pryce said, walking into the room. “I would like to talk to you about transferring food from the Daybreak-” he paused, apparently seeing the packed belongings. “I…wasn’t aware that you’d be coming with us,” he said after a moment.
“These people are under my command, and their welfare is my responsibility. A captain must naturally be with the crew in times of crisis,” Sibert said, turning to face Pryce.
“...of course,” Pryce said, his eyes flicking away from the photograph on the table. “I’ve spent the last few days organizing the belongings of my crewmates, and I feel like you should have these.” He handed over two books to Siebert, who accepted them with a raised eyebrow.
“The first is a notebook with everything I’ve learned about dragons,” Pryce said. “The second was something I found in Doctor Siebert’s room.”
The captain flipped open the cover of the second book, and his eyes widened in recognition.
“I’ll leave you to finish your packing,” Pryce said, turning to leave the room, “We can discuss the supplies of food later.”
Captain Siebert stared at the book for a few more moments, then moved to place it in a drawer. He paused, reconsidering, and placed it in with the rest of his belongings.
On the beach, Helsha, Kharno, Lakath, Nanzo, and the twins Yantha and Karoth sat as the two ships drew nearer.
«Are you sure there’s not enough room on the ships?» Yantha asked.
Kharno shrugged. «There might be, if there were no humans around.»
«I see,» Yantha said, and the group fell into an awkward silence.
«So…can you really hear well enough to fly?» Yantha asked Lakath, who snorted dismissively.
«I got here somehow, didn’t I?» she asked, tossing her head.
«Oh. Right.»
The uncomfortable silence returned, and Helsha would have sworn that the ships were approaching at an increasingly slow speed.
«So, what does everyone want from humans?» Kharno asked.
«We want to travel to other lands,» Yantha said, with Karoth nodding his agreement.
«That would be quite interesting,» Kharno agreed. «What about you two?»
«We’re here to help Jooral-ǂ and Ghorrah-ǂ» Lakath said, «But these humans are quite interesting. I think I’d like to hear their music, if they have any.»
Helsha was hesitant to answer, but he supposed talking was somewhat preferable to uncomfortable silence. «It is hard to decide on one thing in particular, but I am very interested in their medicine.»
The stilted conversation continued a little while longer, and soon the ships were only a few lengths away.
The great shells of steel plowed through the sand as it ground to a halt, then what appeared to be thick metal ropes dropped into the ocean, though Helsha wasn’t sure of their purpose.
The dragons aboard the ship leapt onto the beach as a hole in the metal shell opened up, and a hesitant stream of humans began to trickle out.
“Don’t go into the forest,” Pryce warned before the humans stepped onto the beach. “The beach is fine with the dragons around, but don’t wander around alone either. There are predators I refer to as ‘raptors’ that can change color and blend into their surroundings, effectively rendering themselves invisible.”
With that warning (and a few more examples and explanations), the hatch was finally opened.
Scott was one of the first humans to leave the ship, though he wasn’t sure which dragon to talk to first – they came in so many colors! Ultimately he decided that the green dragon with the frosted scales and patterned wings seemed most interesting, and approached him until he arrived at what felt like a respectable distance.
“Wow,” Scott said, “you dragons come in all sorts of colors, don’t you?”
“I can not under stand English,” the verdant green dragon said, with incongruously good pronunciation.
“He only started learning your language today,” the old grey dragon named Fortitude explained , “I can help translate if you want.”
“Thank you, I appreciate it,” Scott said, “It’s not insulting to ask why he looks a bit different, does he?”
“Our colors change depending on our diet,” Fortitude explained. “Green is a common color, but his green is darker than most. He also is older than the rest of them, which is why his scales are a bit white, but he is still younger than Devotion and me.”
“Okay, so scales are like human hair,” Scott nodded. “That reminds me, how old are you?”
“I am four-hundred-and-thirty-seven years old.”
“...oh.”
Pryce brought the phonograph out onto the beach, encouraged by Celeste’s insistence that Echo wanted to hear human music. It was a good idea, it would give the unfamiliar humans and dragons something to bond over.
“Any suggestions?” Pryce asked as he set the device upon the beach.
“Dancing Under the Moonlight is a classic,” Gordon suggested.
“If you want a classic you should play Harper’s Seventh Symphony,” Dr. Hart said. “Can’t go wrong with good ol’ Harper.”
“How about…Like The Morning Dew?” Captain Siebert suggested.
“Like The Morning Dew it is,” Pryce said, ignoring how the dragons peered at the phonograph as he filed through the vinyls.
«What is that?» Yantha asked as he peered closely at the device.
«It’s called a ‘phonograph’, and it’s something that can talk and make music,» Fathom explained.
The twins stared incredulously. «That thing can talk?» Karoth demanded.
«Just wait,» Fathom said smugly. «You’ll see soon enough.»
«What does it look like?» Echo asked, clicking as she tried to locate the subject of their conversation. «There’s too many humans standing around,» she grumbled, «I can’t tell what’s going on.»
«I…don’t know how to explain it,» Nanzo said apologetically. «Most of it looks like a box with legs, but on top is a strange thing that almost looks like a conch shell.»
«Be quiet, it’s starting soon,» Fathom hissed. True to his word, melodic notes began to trickle out of the phonograph, though the music sounded quite different from what Pryce had played for Fathom so far.
Have you heard of Coalburn town?
There lived a girl dressed in blue
Memories of her warm as the sun
Glittered in my mind like the morning dew
Then came the day our township bled
Though comrades cheered ‘the day is won’
Battles continued, only just begun
Have you heard of Coalburn town?
There lived a girl dressed in blue
Memories of her fade come the sun
Vashining away like the morning dew
The last few sorrowful notes trailed off before the track ended, leaving only static to play over the stunned silence.
“Did they like it?” Siebert asked into the silence.
«I…have never heard anything so beautiful,» Echo said, the first to speak.
«This…how can this thing make music like that?» Yantha asked hesitantly.
Fathom shrugged. «It’s too complicated to explain, but they can show you more music if you want.»
«Yes!» Echo exclaimed, rousing a chorus of similar agreements.
By sunset the Horizon had been refueled, and Pryce sat in a chair to watch as humans and dragons clumsily communicated with each other. Fathom, Celeste, Fortitude, and Devotion were the only ones who had any degree of fluency, and they grew weary after several hours of translating. Pryce could understand most of their words if they spoke slowly and clearly, but of course his efforts at translating human speech into Draconic were met largely with confusion – though he was understood on rare occasions.
“Humans can…talk…away…from ocean?” Xylem asked in his stilted English.
“We can talk across the ocean, but we need special tall machine,” Gordon explained, gesturing animatedly. “Very big, very tall, ship no can carry.”
“You have…hrrn,” Helsha growled in frustration. “«Huroumh», what is human word for «reiska»?”
“Proof,” Fathom tiredly said.
“You have proof for this?” Helsha asked Gordon.
“Humans on Mainland use machine, machine can talk across ocean every day, same time…I can show you that,” Gordon offered.
“Good. You show me this tomorrow.”
“Isn’t it nostalgic to talk like this again?” Pryce sighed as he sat down next to Fathom, exhausted by the long day. At some point someone had mentioned human cooking, which led to the dragons swiftly hunting down several prey items for the crew to cook. Now the scent of spices and herbs intermingled with the roasting meat, and the twins had to be waved off from eating the meat before it had finished cooking.
“A little, I guess,” Fathom grumbled.
“Only a little?”
“It is…a nice feeling,” Fathom admitted, “but I will feel nicer when I’ve had some food. Let’s go get some before everyone else eats our share.”
The sun had fully set by the time everyone had eaten their fill, the new moon making the milky way seem far brighter than usual.
“Excited for the eclipse tomorrow?” Scott asked, yawning as he sat down next to Pryce.
Pryce blinked. “To be honest, I almost forgot about it.”
“Understandable, considering…well, everything,” Scott chuckled. “By the way, Captain Siebert wanted to see you about how much food the Horizon has.”
“Ah, thank you for telling me, I’ll go have a word with him,” Pryce said, standing up to leave.
Scott watched as Pryce left, and realized he was standing alone with Fathom.
“So, was finding Doctor Pryce as surprising for you as it was for him?”
“It was more surprising for me, I think,” Fathom said, chuffing in amusement. “Especially when he started explaining what ‘science’ was.”
“I can imagine that,” Scott chuckled. “But Doctor Pryce was one of the best professors I’ve ever had, so you were pretty lucky to have him be the one to teach you.”
Fathom tilted his head thoughtfully. “...Yes, I was,” he said, though Scott didn’t know why he sounded so hesitant about it. Maybe he was just shy?
“Well, he was just as lucky that you found him too,” Scott said, “Being all alone like that, I can’t even imagine what it was like.”
Fathom blinked. “Is being alone so bad for humans?”
“It depends, but yeah. Most people probably would’ve gone insane if they had to be alone for so long.” Scott paused. “Oh, right, most dragons live alone, right? I guess things are just different for you, but for humans having someone to talk to is really important. You probably saved his life just by talking to him.”
Fathom lowered his gaze, apparently deep in thought. “I didn’t know it was that important to him,” he said, after a moment.
“Well, it is a bit awkward to talk about,” Scott said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Anyway, I ought to try and get some sleep now, though I’m not sure how well that’s going to go. See you tomorrow!”
“Yes, see you tomorrow,” Fathom said absently, his head still lowered in contemplation.
Sharnha stuck his head out from his hiding spot and looked up at the night sky. He would have preferred some cloud cover to hide his departure, but the sun had long since set, and anyone who would’ve noticed his departure would have surely fallen asleep by now.
He leapt off the sheer cliff, his wings silently carrying him to the east under the cover of the black moon. In the morning he would return to the human ship with an important message; the Brewer clan had arrived.