ALL NOVEL Chapter 66, Day 102: Solstice
“Good morning,” Pryce said, blinking tiredly. “Is anyone else awake?”
“No,” said Fortitude, shaking her head. “They will need sleep to heal, especially for serious injuries.”
“...Fathom fell into a deep sleep the last time he was hurt,” Pryce said, glancing at the slumbering blue dragon. “Why didn’t anyone fall asleep right after yesterday’s battle?”
“Deep sleep is caused by all kinds of injuries, but it’s mostly caused by blood loss, and it does not happen…” she abruptly paused. “Do you know what «instantly» means?”
“I do not.”
“It means ‘happening very quickly’.”
“Ah. Instantly.”
“It does not happen instantly,” Fortitude continued. “It only makes you feel tired until you fall asleep. If much blood is lost then it can be impossible to wake up until the body decides it is ready.”
“That makes sense,” Pryce nodded – of course the body would only shut down when it knew it was safe to do so. “Falling into a deep sleep can sometimes happen with humans, but that usually means something very bad has happened.”
“Interesting,” Fortitude noted as she stood up and glanced around to see who had not yet awoken. «I suppose this necessitates a change of plans. Don’t leave just yet, Qnaoro, wait until most of us are lucid before you leave for the Plateau.»
«Of course,» Aurum nodded. «I wouldn’t want to bring everyone here while most of us are still asleep.»
«How exciting it will be, to have so many gathered in one place,» Kharno yawned as she gingerly stretched in a rather catlike manner before turning to scratch around a bandaged cut upon her shoulder. «I have no doubt things will be chaotic, but I’m sure we’ll be able to handle it.»
«...let’s hope so,» Fortitude said somewhat skeptically. «Speaking of, we should let the Brewer clan know our plans, but…» she trailed off, glancing over at Vosae. The elder still appeared to be quite soundly asleep, though she barely sustained any injuries yesterday. For a moment Fortitude seemed to consider approaching Vosae anyway, but… «I suppose we should let her sleep a little longer,» she said, making eye contact with the watchful members of her clan and causing one of them to rise from her vigil.
«Thank you,» Hakra said, nodding her head gratefully. «My mother has not slept so well in a long time…years, in fact,» she said, a little more quietly than usual. «Normally Vojan would be the one to fill in for our mother, but given that she’s back home it seems that responsibility falls to me.»
«Very well,» Fortitude nodded. «We’ve already worked together with the humans to prepare a plan, but things are different now that we have your…cooperation.»
«Of course,» Hakra nodded. «Let’s see what you’ve prepared.»
Fortitude nodded, then called Pryce over to join them in their planning.
Anxiety crept through Qnaoro’s veins as his wings carried him to the Plateau. Honestly speaking, he would have very much preferred not to be the one to guide the others back to the humans, but he had promised to do this, and so the task was his responsibility…especially considering how yesterday’s battle had transpired.
The few minor scratches he’d gained itched in reminder of his miserable performance, and he once again felt a stab of guilt for his part in the battle’s resolution. Brushing it aside, he turned his gaze to the distant Plateau, where hundreds of dragons awaited his arrival.
It was not a calming thought.
A few tens of wingbeats passed, and Qnaoro was dismayed to see that nearly everyone upon the Plateau had gathered in a vaguely circular arrangement, with a distinct vacancy in the middle of them all. They must have realized it would have been chaos if he were mobbed in the air, and had prepared for his arrival.
Qnaoro supposed he should have felt grateful for the consideration, but he couldn’t bring himself to feel any sort of appreciation as heads began to turn towards him.
Countless eyes were locked upon him as he landed. Some gazes had notes of scorn, others curiosity.
All were impatient.
«Well, look who’s finally here,» drawled an ancient dragon named Eoiras. He stood among the foremost of the gathered group, his snow white scales signifying his status as the oldest of all dragons. Countless overlapping scars lined his ancient hide, the skin clinging tight to his wiry but powerful frame.
Eoiras casually shifted his wings as he spoke; his membranes were the same light-blue color as his eyes, his talons were painted white to match his hide, and even his horns were encased in bones bleached white with age.
It was natural to be proud of one’s horns, and of course most dragons took the time to take care of their appearances, but few bothered with the trouble of etching patterns upon their horns like the Brewer clan did, and fewer still wore adornments such as the ones Eoiras bore. From what Qnaoro could see the decorations seemed to have been carved from two separate pieces of bone that were fitted or glued together, with veins of gold embedded into the sculpted grooves.
The dragon was rightfully known for his love of aesthetics, but no dragon alive was foolish enough to believe that was all that he was. Strength emanated from the ancient dragon, who carried himself with a casual, confident ease, and his sharp blue eyes carried a penetrating quality, as if he could see things that others could not.
«So, where’s this ‘human’ of yours? Were you not supposed to bring her?» demanded Nasai, the only other dragon present who possessed pure white scales. She too, stood apart from the others, though she wore neither paint nor adornments, only the proud scars of myriad battles. Like Eoiras, her membranes matched her irises, but her secondary colors were a pale yellow in contrast with his light blue.
The two of them were the oldest dragons alive by a fair margin, with Eoiras being the slightly older of the two. Though relaxed, they both stood slightly angled to one another, which was hardly surprising; their rivalry was legendary.
«Yes, I was,» Qnaoro said cautiously, «but there have been a few…developments since then. I’ll cut straight to the point: Callan crossed the ocean on a great iron shell with many other humans, but-»
«Many others?» Eoiras asked, eyes narrowing as murmurs propagated through the assembled crowd. «Are you saying that there are currently more of these beings upon our land?»
«Yes, but not in the way that you think,» Qnaoro said, flattening his spines in consternation. «I have much to tell, so it would be best if no one interrupted until I was done.» He took the brief period of silence as their answer, and as briefly as he could, Qnaoro summarized how he had found Callan, how he had helped her gather allies for the Solstice, and how they had realized that she was not alone. Then, he spoke of the second group of humans who had arrived to rescue the first, making sure to mention that the humans had split into two groups; one to stay, and one to return to their homeland. Finally, he recounted the story of how the Brewer clan had found them upon the beach, and how the battle had ended with the great clan admitting defeat. «In the end, Vosae saw the benefit of joining the humans instead of opposing them, and now her clan have joined our alliance. They are currently waiting for me to bring all of you back to them.»
«Your allies defeated the Brewer clan?» Eoiras exclaimed, eyes glittering with interest as questions began to erupt from the gathered dragons. «How many of you are there? Surely you must have outnumbered them!»
«Forget that, how many humans are there? And why are so many allying with them?» Nasai pressed, shouting her questions over the rising commotion.
«Well…they can make many incredible things, but it’s easier to just show you.» Qnaoro opened his talons to show the photograph the humans had taken of themselves and their allies standing before the Horizon.
«What…is that?» someone within the crowd asked, while the two white elders stared, stupefied by the memory given form. Behind them, others moved to better see what was causing such a reaction before being baffled in turn.
«It is called a ‘photograph’,» Qnaoro explained. «The humans have a device that can record sights like this in less than a single beat. I don’t know how it works, and we would be here all day if I explained everything that they could do; I brought this along just to prove my point. The humans are currently staying at their ‘ship’. Follow me, and I can bring you to them.»
«What in the skies…» Eoiras shook his head in disbelief, and similar sentiments were echoed by those around them. «Well, no use standing around waiting, I suppose. Lead the way!»
Qnaoro hesitated for a moment before taking to the skies. He tried to disregard the cloud of dragons that rose up behind him, but it was simply impossible to ignore the thunder of a thousand wings.
«Think you could fly any faster?» Eoiras called out.
«What use is going any faster?» Nasai snorted. «The humans aren’t going anywhere.»
«Just because you’re slow as a tortoise doesn’t mean you get to drag the rest of us down,» Eoiras taunted, giving Qnaoro an expectant look.
«I…er…» Qnaoro stammered, caught between the glares of the two ancient dragons. «I’ll fly a bit faster, but I think it would be best if we did not pull too far ahead of the others; that way we can arrive at the same time,» he said, hoping that it was a sufficient compromise.
«Hmph,» Nasai snorted. «If you truly wanted everyone to arrive at the same time you’d have flown slower,» she huffed scornfully.
«Tch,» Eoiras clicked, equally disdainful for the same yet opposite reasons. «Someone your age ought to be more decisive. No wonder you’re still a wanderer.»
Qnaoro gritted his teeth, anger boiling over his apprehension. «Fine. Remember that you asked for this,» he snapped, then ignored the sting of his minor injuries to throw his wings behind him. Within a handful of beats he saw that he was well ahead of the elders, and he fully extended his wings to fall into a sedate glide.
«Hey, you’re pretty fast, but wouldn’t it be a better idea to slow down a little for the others?»
Qnaoro startled, glancing over his shoulder to see a red, one-armed dragon trailing beside him – a dragon he knew by the name of Uyrikes.
«I didn’t see you,» Qnaoro said, mildly surprised and uncomfortable that someone had so easily caught up with him. A few others were closer than he’d thought, but Uyrikes was the only one who’d fully caught up with him. Still, he settled into a glide, and the red dragon did the same beside him.
«I’m not surprised; I was on the edge of the crowd,» Uyrikes said, then caught Qnaoro staring at the scarred stump that was his right elbow.
«No, it’s alright,» he said when Qnaoro looked away. «I don’t blame anyone for staring, but would you believe me if I said it makes flying easier?»
«I…suppose that makes sense,» Qnaoro said dubiously. He had never spoken to this dragon before, though he had heard he was somewhat of an odd one. «I assume you want to ask about the humans?»
«Well, that’s why you’re here, isn’t it?» Uyrikes asked lightheartedly. «And besides, it’s not like we have anything else to do.»
«Fair enough,» Qnaoro sighed. «Ask away.»
«Well…it is a good plan, but you still should have woken me earlier,» Vosae grumbled drowsily as she rubbed her eyes. «It’s almost mid-day, we’d barely have time to fix anything that you missed.»
Hakra snorted unrepentantly. «I did try to wake you, but you slept like the dead. I would have been worried, if you weren’t snoring so much. And besides, now you don’t have to wait as long for food to be ready,» Hakra added, casting a wistful glance at the cooking meat.
Indeed, the enticing scent of meat roasting with a mix of familiar and unfamiliar spices filled the air. The humans had only given their clan a few small portions of meat to sample yesterday, which felt like a form of punishment to Hakra, even if it was unintended. She certainly would’ve asked for more, if things weren’t so awkward between them and the humans.
«That’s an interesting mixture of aromas…» Vosae murmured distractedly, her stomach rumbling in anticipation.
«Yes, it seems that they’ve already begun trading with Helsha-ǂ.» Hakra said, eyeing the rather heavily bandaged dragon. «I suppose everyone loves a good meal.»
«What are you doing?» Devotion asked, blinking drowsily as she cocked her head at Helsha.
«The humans are making a game out of trying my fruits,» Helsha replied, gesturing to the bags of assorted fruit that Kharno had retrieved for him. «They don’t know if any might be poisonous to them, so each one is trying a small piece to see if it makes them sick.»
“What is the name of this one?” Scott asked, holding up a green, crescent-shaped fruit.
“Green crescent fruit,” Helsha answered, with help from Devotion for the translation. “Weak flavor…but not bad. Easy to grow.”
“Well that doesn’t sound very interesting,” Scott sighed, biting off a small chunk. “Yeah, it doesn’t really-”
Suddenly he doubled over, coughs wracking his frame as he spat out the fruit in his mouth, his face reddening within seconds.
“Hey! You alright?!” Aaron asked urgently. “Hey doc, do something!”
“What are you idiots doing?!” Doctor Corbin demanded, rushing to support the choking man.
“Water…!” Scott gasped. “Hot…!”
The crew paused for a moment, then suddenly burst out laughing despite the young man’s frantic gesturing.
«Is…he alright?» Helsha asked uncertainly. «I didn’t think any of them would actually be poisonous.»
«He said that it was…hot?» Devotion said uncertainly. «How can a raw fruit be hot?»
“Doesn’t eating this make your mouth feel like it’s burning?” Scott rasped when Devotion repeated her question in English.
Devotion stared uncomprehendingly. “No…?”
“Is it spicy like a gelrou radish?” Corbin asked, causing Scott to nod between frantic swigs of water. “Then…could they lack the receptors to sense capsaicin? Fascinating…”
“So for humans, this fruit has a flavor that makes it feel like your mouth is burning,” Celeste said after a few more rounds of clarifications. “Weird. Do many plants taste ‘hot’?”
“No, only a few, and they’re mostly fruits,” Pryce clarified, having been drawn by the commotion. “But they are popular ingredients in some places.”
“Popular ingredients?” Celeste asked, tilting her head in confusion. “Humans like to eat things that cause burning feelings? Then why is he in pain?”
“It’s too spicy,” Scott said, sweat dripping down his brow.
The dragons stared for a few moments before simply concluding that humans were weird.
«Well, at least I didn’t accidentally poison one of them,» Helsha said, a little relieved. «Though their description sounds a bit like the taste of starfruit…maybe I shouldn’t let them try any of that,» he concluded, drawing the bag a little closer to himself.
«I wouldn’t call that burning,» Celeste huffed stubbornly. «More like a…tingling.»
“Is the food ready yet?” Devotion asked, ignoring this tangent to focus on more important things.
“Sure,” Leonard said, “you probably don’t like your steaks overdone, eh?”
“I don’t know what that means,” Devotion said as she picked up the offered steak, then tore off half of it in a single bite. «Mmm. Interesting flavor, but not quite as good as your best ones, Jooral.»
«Really?» Fortitude hummed. «I think I like these better, though I’m sure I could copy it so long as I had the spices.»
“She’s saying Fortitude makes better steaks,” Pryce translated, when Leonard raised an eyebrow at their dialogue. “Fortitude is disagreeing.”
“Well, let’s see how she likes this one; I made this one with the stuff that Xylem fellow gave us – and with some salt and butter of course.”
“Hmm,” Devotion rumbled. “It is…very good,” she begrudgingly admitted, and shifted aside to let the others have a try – something of a lineup had formed behind her.
Even the ship’s galley and portable camping grills running at full capacity weren’t quite enough to satiate the allied dragon’s appetites, which meant that a few individuals took to traditional means of preparing their food downwind of the ship.
Soon only bones remained, and Fortitude reared up on the deck of the ship to peer to the west.
“See anything?” Pryce asked.
“I’m not sure…” Fortitude rumbled. «Kharno, can you see anything?»
«Hmm…I think so? Let me check,» Kharno said, and leapt into the air. A few powerful wingbeats later she landed back upon the deck, roaring out her confirmation of the cloud of dragons on the horizon.
«I thought they weren’t supposed to arrive until noon?» Devotion asked.
Fortitude shrugged. «Qnaoro must have been faster than I thought, or maybe the others flew ahead of him. Either way, it’s time to gather the others.»
A few roared orders from Fortitude saw the allied dragons gathered by the Horizon, while Vosae organized her clan to the side of the ship. Fathom could not yet talk without agitating his throat, but still sat next to Pryce and the rest of the humans, who stood near the ship’s hatchway in case something went wrong.
Interestingly, the dragons appeared to arrive in a narrow, elongated group rather than a round cloud. It seemed that the fastest dragons had pulled ahead, with Aurum and several others in the lead.
«They kept pushing me to fly faster,» Aurum confirmed as he landed, tossing an irritated glance in the general direction of the cloud of dragons. “Ah. This is Uyrikes-ǂ,” he added, introducing the one-armed dragon beside him who was currently staring up at the ship.
«What odd-looking creatures…how could they have possibly made something so…?» Uyrikes murmured distractedly, then blinked when he heard mention of his name. «Oh, forgive me; yes, my name is Uyrikes,» the amputee said, bringing his stump to his chest. «I heard much about you from Qnaoro-ǂ; I’m glad that no one gave you much trouble.»
«Uyrikes,» Vosae said tersely. «Greetings.»
«Vosae-ǂ! You look…oh, what happened to your horn?» Uyrikes asked, blinking in surprise at the unexpected injury.
«It’s a long story,» Vosae grumbled, glancing away.
“How did he lose his arm?” Callan asked.
“In a duel with another dragon,” Aurum explained. “The injury went bad, so he had to remove it.”
“What happened to the other dragon?” Captain Siebert asked.
“He died,” Aurum said succinctly.
“Ah.”
Any further conversation was interrupted by the landing of a pearl-white dragon, whose arrival seemed to open the gates for the other dragons to land, as if they were giving him precedence to land first. «My, my, this must be that metal shell…and you must be the ‘humans’,» the elder murmured, his gaze lingering on each face for a second or two. His jaws parted slightly as he finished, giving the impression of a light grin upon his face. «Interesting…Qnaoro, you said you can understand their speech, correct? Introduce me, would you? Tell them that the strongest dragon greets them.»
“His name is Eoiras, and he says he is the strongest dragon,” Aurum translated, though not without reluctance.
“Didn’t you say that there was no strongest dragon alive?” Pryce asked, turning to Fathom.
“It depends on who you ask,” Fathom grunted with a moderate rasp.
“There is no one who can easily defeat everyone else,” Fortitude explained. “He is one of the strongest, but I could beat him in a ground-fight, and it would have been possible for some of us here to beat him if we were not injured.”
«Ah, Jooral-ǂ! Qnaoro did mention that you could speak with them as well,» Eoiras said, as he glanced curiously at the surrounding dragons, clearly taking note of who had allied with the humans. «I was not at all surprised to hear you had allied with these creatures – have you acquired any human tools?» He asked, his eyes flicking towards the ship before returning to Fortitude.
«I’ve seen a few, but human tools are unsurprisingly meant to be used by humans,» Fortitude explained. «They’ve still given me a few simple ones, though I haven’t had the time to try them yet.»
«Well, do let me know when you’ve gotten a grasp on using them,» Eoiras said. «It’s been on my mind to hire your services again. By the way, what are those things stuck to your hide? Are they some form of bandage*?»
«Yes, the humans helped us after our scuffle with the Brewer clan,» Fortitude explained, showing Eoiras the bandage upon her forearm.
«Must have been quite the battle,» Eoiras said, then his eyes widened as he finally took notice of the Brewer clan. «My, Vosae-ǂ, what happened to your horn?»
«I’ll tell you later,» Vosae grumbled tiredly.
“Wait,” Scott said, waving to get Celeste’s attention. “You said that scales get whiter as a dragon gets older, right? And if you’re over four hundred years, then how old is he?”
“Eoiras is five-hundred-and-eighty-two years old, and the oldest dragon alive,” Celeste said, then gestured to a second white dragon who flew at the head of the second wave of newcomers. “That one is Nasai; she is five-hundred-and-seventy-five years old.”
“Heavens,” Doctor Corbin breathed. “Do any of you die of old age?”
“I don’t know what that means,” Celeste said with a slight head tilt. “Older dragons are more likely to be weakened from old injuries or long illnesses, but these two are healthy.”
«So, you can speak with them too?» Eoiras asked with a speculative eye. «Tell me, young one, how many of you can converse with these humans?»
«Five of us,» Celeste answered. «Including Qnaoro, of course.»
Eoiras tilted his head. «Interesting…» he murmured. He seemed as if he wanted to say more, but opted to remain silent as Nasai landed.
«Hmm. Quite a few of you here already,» Nasai noted even as her eyes flicked from the humans to the ship.
«Greetings,» she said, nodding to Fortitude, Devotion, and Vosae before gesturing to Eoiras. «I assume this fool has already begun asking questions, despite the fact that we’re going to have to go over everything again once everyone has arrived.»
«It’s called light conversation,» Eoiras said haughtily. «You would know if you ever bothered to socialize. And besides, what use is there in standing around and waiting? It’s not my fault they’re so slow.»
Nasai ignored him as she scanned her surroundings. Her eyes paused on Vosae for a moment, but she didn’t bother voicing her question, and instead turned to eye the steady stream of dragons assembling in pocketed groups upon the beach. «This beach does not seem to be large enough to accommodate everyone,» she observed. «Not unless most of us stand uncomfortably close.»
«There weren’t any better options,» Fortitude shrugged. «The humans had to wait here for their allies, and this part of the beach is already more crescent shaped than anything else nearby, so there wasn’t much point in moving the ‘ship’ – that’s the name for this thing,» she said, gesturing to the Horizon.
«I see,» Nasai said, and returned to watching the dragons as they descended from the skies onto the beach. Many approached to examine the humans and their seafaring vessel, though the ones who asked questions were quickly shut down by Nasai. Some were reluctant, but none of them seemed very eager to argue with the ancient dragon.
At the same time, Eoiras conversed freely with others as they waited, his behavior a stark contrast to Nasai’s stoic demeanor, though Pryce still noted that they all maintained a respectful distance from the ancient male.
«Huroumh? What are you doing here?»
Fathom started as he heard the familiar voice, and turned to see Hunrahn walking towards him – the arrival of so many dragons had made it easy to miss an individual.
«Father,» Fathom grunted, nodding in greeting. «Apologies. My throat is injured. Speaking is difficult.»
«Grandfather?» Celeste asked, whipping her head around before wincing in pain.
«Ahnoumh, you’re here as well, I see,» Hunrahn said as he eyed his descendants – or more specifically, the bandages upon them. «You two must be allied to the humans, which means you fought against the Brewer clan,» he deduced, with an implicit question in his tone.
«It was a chaotic battle, but I did defeat Ighnahr before fighting Takan alongside Vhaka,» Fathom answered reluctantly.
«You fought two against one?» Hunrahn asked sharply, disapproval dripping from his words.
«We were outnumbered,» Fathom growled through gritted teeth. «I’d beaten Ighnahr alone, then I went to fight Takan alone, but Vhaka and a few others arrived before our battle could reach its conclusion. It was their arrival that changed the current* of battle.»
«Hmm…» Hunrahn rumbled. «I suppose that couldn’t be helped, then. Do you think you could have beaten Takan if they hadn’t arrived?»
«I…believe that victory was possible, but less likely than defeat,» Fathom admitted.
«Hm. Perhaps you’ve grown a little,» his father said, with some hint of approval. «How about you, granddaughter?»
«I was able to beat Ashana, but the battle after that was a mess,» Celeste said, looking somewhat ashamed. «At the end, I tried to fight Vosae…but…»
«You beat Ashana?» Hunrahn asked, looking faintly surprised. «Not bad…you must have learnt a thing or two from Ghorrah-ǂ and Jooral-ǂ. You have potential; don’t squander it.»
«…oh, thank you?» Celeste said, sounding rather surprised by the moderate praise.
«Where is mother?» Fathom asked, looking around.
«I saw her at the Plateau with her current mate, but I imagine she’ll be one of the last ones here, what with that new hatchling of hers,» Hunrahn shrugged. «But enough small talk, tell me about these humans. What are they? How did you meet?»
«This iron shell only had one human on it when it first arrived, and I was the first to meet that human,» Fathom said, allowing a bit of pride into his words as he gestured to Pryce. «His name is Pryce, and he is my friend.»
«Your friend?» Hunrahn asked incredulously. The older dragon drew his head back to look at Pryce with a dubious expression. «This bizarre creature…?»
«It’s a long story,» Fathom sighed. «Don’t worry, we’ll tell everyone about it soon.»
“I hate to interrupt,” Siebert said, “but should we move to the deck of the ship? The beach is getting rather crowded.”
“That would make talking to everyone easier,” Fortitude said, humming thoughtfully. “But…no, it is rude to stand on higher ground when talking to others, especially the older dragons.”
“Well that’s not fair,” Scott grumbled. “You’re already taller than us – much taller if you sit down on your back legs.”
Fortitude paused, tilting her head thoughtfully. “You can stand on a box if you want.”
“That’s ridiculous, I’m not going to stand on a box just to look taller.”
The elder shrugged noncommittally. “Not my fault that you are small.”
«What bizarre speech they have,» Hunrahn huffed, and glanced up at the sky. «It’s a good thing that everyone is almost here; I’m not sure how much longer I can wait. Oh look, there’s your mother.»
«Huroumh? How long have you known about these humans?» Katan asked sharply as she landed, though the harshness of her tone was somewhat mitigated by the dog-sized dragonet sitting on her head. Beside her landed the dragonet’s father, a red-hided dragon named Nalak who eyed the humans rather dubiously.
“Is that…a baby?” Scott asked, jabbing a finger at the wide-eyed dragonet, who at the moment seemed to be more interested in the ship than the humans.
«A few months ago,» Fathom admitted. «I thought about telling you, but you live far away, and you had to look after Kerak, and we didn’t have much time left to gather allies,» he said defensively, seeing her harsh glare. “And yes, of course that’s a baby, what else would he be?” he added to Scott, tossing his head in exasperation.
“Wait, your mother has a hatchling?” Pryce said, eyebrow raised. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Why would I?” Fathom asked, flattening his spines. “My parents both had several hatchlings before they had my egg together. None of them were very relevant to talk about.”
“...right, I forgot. Human families are usually…closer.”
«...you have much explaining to do,» Katan sighed. «I take it these ‘humans’ are safe to be around?» she asked, glancing up at the dragonet atop her head.
«Yes, you can let Kerak down,» Fathom said, then paused. «Actually, he might be more of a threat to the humans than the other way around.»
«I should hope so,» chuffed Nalak, «it’s hard to imagine these creatures putting up much of a fight. Their hide looks so thin, and I don’t think you could really call those things on their fingertips claws. How did they ever build such a thing?» he asked, side-eyeing the iron walls of the ship.
«Kerak, stay. Understand?» Katan said, speaking sternly to the dragonet as she lowered her head to the ground, allowing the infant dragon to hop off with a chirp.
«Okay!» the hatchling chirped, then glanced between the humans and his mother. «Food?»
«No, not food,» Katan said sharply. «No bite, no claw, understand?»
«Oh…okay…» the hatchling said, looking a little disappointed. «Food soon?»
«Yes, food soon,» Katan sighed, causing the infant to perk up again.
With the hatchling closer, Pryce could see that the little dragon’s body was about two meters long, with disproportionately large eyes upon his equally large head, giving the dragonet a rather adorable sort of appearance, if one ignored the concerning questions he asked.
“Hey there little guy,” Scott said, holding out his hand as he crouched low to the ground. The dragonet stared at him unblinking for a few moments, then cautiously approached.
“Raha?” the dragonet chirped, glancing back at his mother.
“Aww, he thinks you’re his dad,” Callan snickered, greatly confusing Scott.
«No, not ‘father’,» Nalak sighed helplessly. «He knows that I’m ‘father’ and she’s ‘mother’, but he’s never met anyone else before today, so he’s been randomly guessing for each new person he meets…»
«That is not ‘father’, that is ‘human’. Say ‘hu-man’,» Katan said slowly, enunciating the syllables.
“Hu-man?” the hatchling chirped, glancing back at Scott.
“I’ll take it,” Scott sighed, smiling as the hatchling headbutted his hand. The young man then began petting, and soon the little dragon was purring much like a large cat.
«You’re sure these humans are trustworthy?» Nalak asked again, seeing the small crowd that the hatchling had attracted. «Do tell them if they hurt Kerak, then I will kill them.»
«Yes, they know better than that,» Fathom said reassuringly. He did murmur a quick warning to the humans anyway, though it didn’t seem to be enough to dissuade any of them, especially not Kerak, who was currently mesmerized by a twirling shoelace. «And yes, we can trust them. This one is my friend; his name is Pryce, and I have him to thank for this,» he said, opening his wing enough to show the now-repaired malunion.
«Your wing-!» Hunrahn exclaimed, while Ketan stared wide-eyed.
«Interesting,» she murmured. She likely had more questions to ask, but by then the skies had finally emptied, and the beach was crammed full of dragons of every color – in both of their visible spectrums. Instead she barked a stern order, and her hatchling immediately scrambled back up his mother’s foreleg to the safety atop her head.
«I think we can begin, now that everyone’s here!» Fortitude roared, her brassy voice ringing out across the beach and silencing the animated conversation, leaving only rapt stares. «Now, I’m sure you have many questions, but it would be in everyone’s best interest if we answered one question at a time, from one person at a time. I’m sure that we’ll cover everything this way, given how many of us are here.»
Nasai tilted her head as a murmur ran through the crowd. «Hmm. Fair enough. Eoiras, why don’t you go first? You are the eldest, after all.»
«Please,» Eoiras snorted. «You just want me to waste my turn asking the obvious question, but fine, I’ll play along.» The ancient dragon lowered his head to peer at the humans. «Humans…what do your kind intend to do here?»
«Vosae asked us the same thing yesterday, so I’ll give you the same answer,» Fortitude said, paying no attention to the crowd that watched raptly for her answer. «The humans did not know of our existence before their arrival. They merely expected to find another land to live upon. Now that they know we exist, they are willing to cooperate and trade with us.»
It was difficult for Pryce to gauge the response of the gathered dragons given his low vantage point. It didn’t seem to be negative, which he took as a good sign, but at least one dragon was obviously unconvinced by this speech.
«Cooperate, hmm?» Nasai snorted. «What good would it do to have them interfere with our affairs? Would they cooperate if we asked them to leave?»
«That wouldn’t be a good idea,» Fortitude said, having prepared for this outcome. «There are many more humans than there are of us, so it would be impossible to convince them all to stay away. Even if these ones agreed to leave, others would eventually return without our permission.»
«So what if they do?» Nasai snorted. «Look how small and fragile they are; I doubt it would take much effort to scare them off, and besides, how many of these creatures could there possibly be?» Nasai asked, much to Eoiras’s indignation.
«We’re supposed to get one question each. Each!» Eoiras said, jabbing a singular talon at Nasai, who to her credit did seem a little contrite at the slip.
«Well, I don’t see how we’re going to proceed if we’re only allowed one question each. It’s more sensible for each of us to start a topic of our choosing anyway,» she said, making Eoiras toss his head in exasperation.
«There are at least fifty thousand thousand humans,» Fortitude said, silencing their squabbling.
«You mean…fifty thousand?» Hunrahn asked, breaking the hush that had fallen over the gathering, his eyes glancing over at Fathom for confirmation.
«I meant what I said,» Fortitude huffed as Fathom nodded. «Upon their land lives fifty thousand thousand of their kind. At least, that’s what they claim.»
«ENOUGH!» Devotion roared, hushing the outcry of disbelief that had broken out in response to that particular revelation. «Whether you believe them or not, the fact of the matter is that they live on a much larger land than ours. Can you imagine only a few thousand of these creatures making something like this?» she demanded, jerking a wing-thumb back at the ship that towered behind her.
There was a good amount of sense in her argument, and many dragons remained silent as they digested this explanation. Pryce took the opportunity to whisper his uncertain translation to the rest of the crew, which Fathom corrected with a few muttered words.
«I have a question,» Uyrikes said. «How many other lands do the humans know of? And what are they like?»
«That’s another two,» Eoiras grumbled.
«They’re related!» Uyrikes said defensively.
Fortitude sighed, and rubbed her eyes with her wing-thumbs. «Fine, I’ll allow it. There are three lands of significant size in the world. Ours is the smallest, the human land is about three times larger, and the last island is almost three times larger still. Which-» Fortitude raised her voice as yet more exclamations of disbelief and excitement threatened to drown her out, «-is important to consider when the humans have offered to help us travel across the sea!»
«They are? How soon?» someone further back in the crowd asked.
«First they will go back home, then they will return to build a place to live with the Brewer clan,» Fortitude explained. «After that, they will leave for the largest land – and no, they do not know when they will return, but they will likely not be gone for longer than a few months.»
«Interesting…are any of you going back with them?» asked Patak, an older female around Devotion or Fortitude’s age.
«Huroumh and Qnaoro will accompany them,» Devotion said. «They were the first to come into contact with the humans. There is room on the ship for others, but we have not settled on who else will be going.»
The overlapping voices spoke in many different tones, but the general reaction was quite clear; strong and staunch disapproval made Fathom bristle with indignation.
«We earned our place by learning their language from scratch,» he growled, his injured throat giving his voice a hostile undertone.
«It took us months to learn how to speak with the humans we found,» Aurum agreed, speaking with more volume and only a little less hostility. «If not for us, no one would even be able to speak with them at all, and then we’d know nothing about their intentions or capabilities.»
«Please,» an older male said, chuffing dismissively. «As if that gives you the right to represent all of us»
«Need I remind you that traveling across the ocean requires the help of willing humans?» Qnaoro growled, recognizing the speaker as Ocasan. «Traveling across the ocean requires human help, which means that anyone who leaves might never return. Knowing this fact, are you volunteering to be our representative?»
«Watch your tongue, wanderer,» Ocasan growled. «I have no desire to commit to such a foolhardy venture, but you yourself admit that those who go with these humans will have complete influence over their perception of us, so why would we allow you to take up such a role?»
“Tell them that we will only allow those we trust on the ship,” Siebert said upon having these words translated to him. “In other words, our allies who have fought for us.”
«I have a question,» said a sharp-eyed female by the name of Wonak. «You said you will be living in the Brewer clan’s territory; exactly how many do you expect to do so?»
“At least a few hundred at first,” Siebert answered through Fortitude. “I don’t see it being more than a few thousand in the next five years or so.”
«Hmm…I suppose that is not unreasonable, considering how small you are,» Wonak admitted.
«We will keep them in check,» Vosae reassured.
«We’ve spoken of the human land, but who will go to the third and largest island?» Asked a young red dragon who Fathom wasn’t familiar with.
«We’ve had time to think about that,» Devotion said. «One possible answer is to simply hold a competition, with the privilege of being among the first to fly over another land being the ‘prize’.»
«Wait,» Nasai said, frowning. «How do you plan on treating those who have left?»
«That’s the part for us to decide,» Devotion shrugged. «If the winner wishes to leave permanently, then we could treat them as if they had died, and there would be an extra pair of parents for that year. If they wished to return at some point, then we could simply pretend that they’re still here.»
«That would be complicated,» Eoiras said, his expression mirroring that of Nasai’s. «We’d need to keep track of who’s gone where, and whether or not they’d planned to return. And what if someone changes their mind?»
«You are not wrong,» Devotion admitted, then glanced at Fortitude. «Which is why we have considered another solution…»
«Well, what is it?» Eoiras asked impatiently.
Devotion took in a deep breath, then turned her head to address the entire crowd. «Perhaps it is time that we stop following the rule of one thousand.»
«What?!» Nasai spat, her voice piercing through the chorus of murmured surprise. «For the sun’s sake, why would you ever suggest such a ridiculous thing?! You know why we adhere to this rule, don’t you? Do you want the great dying to happen again?»
«It is a ridiculous proposition,» Eoiras agreed, «but these are ridiculous circumstances. I’m sure they have more to say, so let’s hear them out before we make any hasty decisions.»
Fortitude merely nodded, then subtly glanced back at the humans. “It seems we must tell them about human technological progress,” she said, earning a nod from Siebert. Once the commotion died down, she continued. «Yes, we know full well what this entails, but the arrival of the humans will upset the balance of the land whether we accept them or not.»
«All the more reason to defend our land!» Nasai said, all but roaring her response. «Even if they’ve made two of these iron shells, it’s just not possible for them to make dozens more, else they would have done so!»
«These first ships were meant to scout and explore, not to transport people or materials,» Fortitude explained patiently. «The humans claim they have much larger ships, though of course they did not bring proof of such things. What I consider to be more important is their rate of progress. In the past month I have seen proof after proof of human invention – not only can they craft things beyond our comprehension,» she said, gesturing to the ship, «but it’s clear that they have an understanding about the world that we simply lack, as evidenced by their ability to predict yesterday’s eclipse – and yes, they did so down to the beat. They can even use a form of light that we cannot see to send messages across the ocean, even if they cannot send any back home.»
When Fortitude finished, Devotion raised her head and continued her speech before she could be interrupted by the stupefied audience. «Just yesterday, the humans showed us a device that could see the bones of a living dragon – without harming them,» she said, ignoring the confused murmurs this elicited. «We can show you that later, but Vosae can verify our claims.»
«It’s all true,» Vosae said, though this only seemed to cause more confusion among the gathered dragons. It was hardly surprising, Fathom felt, given how little sense Devotion’s words made to those unfamiliar with human technology. «I have not yet seen the device they use to receive messages, but I have seen the others function with my own eyes.»
«I know this sounds ridiculous,» Devotion continued, «but do you know what else the humans said? They told us that this device, like many of their most sophisticated tools, was invented less than fifty years ago. If that’s true, then that means that the tools they could craft mere decades ago already pale in comparison to what they can create today. In only fifty years they’ve invented such unfathomable things – what more will they make in another fifty?»
«What…are you saying?» Asked a nervous-looking young dragon that Fathom didn’t recognize. She was fully grown, but still quite young – possibly even younger than Celeste, and she took furtive glances at the humans with a mix of uncertainty and doubt.
«I’m saying that nothing good will come of antagonizing them,» Devotion said plainly. «The best way for us to learn their capabilities is to accept their presence…in other words, cooperation is the most sensible path even if these humans turned out to be a threat.»
«I’ve notice that you’ve only spoken of ‘tools’ thus far,» Nasai stated flatly. «And you speak of these creatures as if they’re a threat. What are you not telling us?»
«I’m getting to that part,» Fortitude said, addressing the crowd as much as the elder. «As you already know, a battle took place yesterday between those of us who were allied with the humans and the brewer clan.»
«Yes, Qnaoro told us,» Eoiras said, glancing at the injured but undiminished brewer clan. «I take it you were able to settle things amicably, given that no one seems to have died.»
«Mostly. The battle ended with the death of Ighnahr.»
«Really? About time,» Nasai snorted as a relieved chatter rustled through the crowd. «It was about time someone killed that wretch. So, which one of you ended him?»
«It was a chaotic battle,» Fortitude explained. «Ighnahr took advantage of a momentary distraction to gain a fatal advantage over Huroumh, but that was when the humans intervened.»
«So they were able to help you in battle?» Eoiras asked, eyeing the humans with an interested glint in his eyes. «That certainly explains things…»
«You misunderstand,» Fortitude said grimly. «The humans did not wish to fight, but Ighnahr was about to kill Huroumh, so they were forced to use their weapons to kill him.»
The gathered dragon’s gazes upon the humans had thus far been largely curious and skeptical, but with this admission their expressions hardened into unsettled wariness, while others began to demand for answers.
«What kind of weapon was this? How many of them did it take to kill him?» Eoiras asked, the ice-cold tone of his voice belying the intensity of his piercing glare.
«We will answer that,» Fortitude said, doing her best to calm down the growing dissent, «but first you must understand that the humans did not wish to fight. They could have used their weapons to end the battle before it had even begun, and they could have decided on violence without making any effort to communicate with us.»
«What, are you saying that they’re showing us mercy?» Nasai spat, her voice dripping with derision and a little disbelief.
«You would be grateful for it, if you had seen what they could do,» Vosae said, and the pointed tilt of her head caused Nasai to blanch as she connected the dots.
«I thought your horn was broken in a fight» Eoiras said, sounding more confused than outraged. «You can’t be saying…? What kind of weapon could do that?»
«This,» Devotion said, holding up a rifle in the palm of her hand. «An explosion happens at this end of the pipe*, forcing a piece of metal out at incredible speeds. Ighnahr was killed when one of these projectiles pierced through his neck.»
*Note: The Draconic word for ‘pipe’ refers to the hollow structure found in certain species of plants.
«One hit,» Nasai growled flatly. «They have weapons that can kill us in one blow, and you want to invite them to live with us?!»
Ketan took a step back away from the humans as Nasai spoke, her eyes drilling into Fathom with confused indignation, clearly questioning his earlier reassurance. Even Kerak had sensed her agitation, and her hatchling had flattened himself warily on the backside of her neck.
Her reaction was not unique, and many dragons began to shift uncomfortably as they considered whether or not to believe these outlandish words.
«The situation is not ideal,» Devotion admitted, though she spoke firmly to carry her point, «but whether we like it or not, the truth of the matter is that these humans hold immense power. It does us no good to blame them for their strength; what we must do now is decide on how to proceed.»
«I agree that we would be able to fight them off for a time,» Fortitude said, before the others could speak, «humans have poor senses compared to us, and they are not very durable. If we organized ourselves and used the land to our advantage, then it would be possible to fend them off, but how many of us would die with each push? How many times could we afford to do this, until fighting is no longer an option?»
«The humans have thus far been willing to share their knowledge and tools with us,» Devotion announced. «Tell me, what good will it do to deny the advantage that they wish to give us?»
The crowd was largely silent as they absorbed Devotion’s question, though muttered exchanges passed between a few individuals, and a few were arguing under not-quite hissed breath.
Eoiras stepped forward. «In short, you want to let the humans live within the Brewer clan’s territory as a sort of patchwork solution, am I right?»
Fortitude nodded. «That is the gist of it, yes.»
«If they are honest allies, then there will be no issue. If they become enemies, then we will know what they are capable of when we fight them,» Devotion summarized. «Am I wrong?»
«...no, I suppose you are not,» Nasai admitted after a moment’s thought. «I suppose you’ve had more time to come to terms with…all this,» she sighed, waving a wing-thumb in the humans’ general direction.
«I have,» Fortitude said, tilting her head, «but I would be lying if I weren’t unsettled by the humans, especially considering how unassuming they are.»
«I suppose there’s nothing left to do but to hold a vote,» Eoiras said, turning back to look at the crowd. «Raise your wing if you support-»
«Wait, don’t forget human medicine,» Celeste interrupted, then looked abashed as hundreds of gazes directed themselves upon her. «The humans have extremely useful medicine – they can cure infections and fevers, and they can even fix malformed wings,» she said, gesturing to her father who took the cue to open his wings.
The action caused interested murmurs to run through the audience, and Fortitude took the opportunity to insert her own dialogue; «Yes, it is true that humans have a superior understanding of medicine. Not only have they fixed Huroumh’s wing, but they have promised to try and heal mine.»
This admonition caused an even greater stir; which Fathom reluctantly agreed made some sense. There were several other dragons with conditions like his broken wing, but Fortitude’s case was particularly severe. Not only that, but she was known throughout the centuries as the flightless artisan, so the restoration of her ability to fly was of far greater interest to the general population.
«And of course, don’t forget that humans can make many things of many colors,» Celeste said, a little more confident now. «Perfectly clear glass, shining metals, and perfectly reflective surfaces are all just a few of the things they can make.»
«And you have proof of these things, I assume?» Eoiras sighed. «All right, bring them out.»
Of course, the crew had long since prepared the most interesting objects for the purposes of this demonstration – with help from the allied dragons, of course.
Some shoving and squabbling ensued as the dragons fought for their turn to see what humans could craft, but the elders who had their turn first were quick to break up any fights, and shoo away those who had lingered for too long.
Many asked to pick up the glassware that the humans had put out on display, and more than a few seemed like they considered bolting with their prizes, but Devotion’s stern eye dissuaded them – that and the fact that their compatriots wouldn’t have allowed them to make a clean getaway.
The mirror was a particular object of fascination, and the crew had received a few translated questions about what else the humans could make. Of course, none of the humans present were very familiar with glass-blowing or mirror-making, and this caused some confusion among the dragons.
«Surely you must have some idea,» more than one dragon pressed, and they all huffed when Kharno told them that humans tended to specialize their skills, and so were not familiar with the specifics of any particular process outside of their speciality.
Naturally this led to questions like: «Then how was your ship made? How does it work?», which all led to equally unsatisfying answers.
«We simply do not have the foundations to understand it,» Fortitude shrugged. «I imagine it would be like if I tried to explain how to melt iron to someone who had never seen any of my tools.»
“She seems awfully humble,” Callan quietly murmured to Pryce.
“She’s done centuries of trial-and-error work,” Pryce shrugged. “She knows better than anyone else how advanced our technology is compared to theirs.”
“Pryce, can you bring out the fluoroscope?” Fortitude asked, the direction of her gaze causing a few dozen pairs of draconic eyes to peer at Pryce.
“Of course,” Pryce sighed as he stood up. “Doctor Corbin, would you lend me a hand?”
“You got it,” Corbin said, then chuckled ruefully. “Though I have to say, something doesn’t quite feel right about using medical equipment for entertainment.”
«That’s…most of the important things,» Fortitude said as the day neared its end.
«What an exhausting day,» Nasai yawned, her jaws stretching wide before snapping shut.
«At least it’s finally over,» Eoiras shrugged. «Now there’s just one last thing to do.» He squared his wings, raised his head, and roared: «Those of you in favor of allowing the humans to live with the Brewer clan, raise your wing!»
A little less than half of the dragons present immediately raised their wings – Fathom noted most of them were on the younger side – and over the course of a beat others had gradually joined them, until about only one fifth remained unmoved; these mostly consisting of older dragons.
«Well, I suppose that settles that,» Nasai sighed. «Ah. I forgot. There is something else we need to decide.»
«Ah, yes,» Eoiras nodded. «There’s not enough prey here to sustain everyone. At least half of us will have to leave tonight. Maybe three-quarters.»
A quick survey showed about a fifth of the gathered dragons were willing to leave, which left about four-hundred gathered upon and around the beach.
«Then I suppose it’s time for a competition, even if we only need two rounds,» Eoiras said, and suddenly looked quite rejuvenated. «Alright everyone, there might not be a need to compete for eggs anymore, but pair on up! Losers go home, win two rounds to stay!» he roared, then turned to Nasai. «Ready to lose?»
«Still as delusional as ever,» Nasai chuffed derisively, though her smile belied her excitement. «Same old rules?»
«Same old rules,» Eoiras growled with a grin. The two dragons lowered their bodies, the muscles throughout their body coiling before ripping free, launching themselves into the evening sky above.
“Are those dragons…singing?” Scott asked.
“It is a type of competition,” Fortitude answered. “It is complicated, but the basic rules are that one dragon sings a complicated song, then the second tries to copy it. When the first dragon is done, the second gets a turn. The one to make more mistakes loses. It is a good idea to agree on a group of judges before the start of the match.”
“What about those two? Are they wood carving?” Callan asked.
“Yes. The rules depend on what the two dragons agree upon, but one common type of wood-carving competition is to agree upon a group of judges before trying to carve the same object. Sometimes the competition is about carving the more impressive thing, but that is more difficult to judge.”
“And I guess those two are racing?” Gordon asked.
Fortitude cocked her head. “What’s racing?”
“Er…when two people are racing, they’re trying to see who’s faster.”
“Oh. No, they are doing a type of dancing. One dragon goes first, second dragon tries to copy. Winner is decided by judges. Aren’t you interested in the fights?” Fortitude asked, head cocked.
“Of course I am,” Scott said, with the others agreeing. “It’s just that the fights are pretty obviously fights. And it’s a bit hard to see.”
As they conversed, a few jets of fire shot into the air – evidently a part of a competition to see who would spit fire the furthest. Every half a minute or so someone would ask a question about some other odd competition going on, and one of the allied dragons would answer to the best of their capabilities. Eventually, the two ancient dragons landed back on the beach, with Nasai holding herself in a stiff and proper manner while Eoiras radiated an air of smugness.
«Another victory to the tally,» Eoiras preened, his head held up at an overly haughty angle.
«At least save your boasting for when we’re tied,» Nasai snorted. «Which, if I’m not mistaken, will require another twenty-five lucky victories on your part.»
«Gah, who cares about the distant past?» Eoiras turned to the closest allied dragon – who happened to Celeste – and said in a not-whisper: «She’s just mad that I’ve won forty of our last hundred fights, while she’s only won thirty-one – the rest were ties.»
«Tch. It’s almost impressive how you never tire of being a prick,» Nasai growled. She turned to leave, then paused. «I’m going home now. Keep an eye on them, Eoiras.»
«Of course,» Eoiras snorted. «Who do you think I am?»
With that short farewell she left, joining the defeated in returning home.
Fathom looked around the beach, then up at the skies. He estimated that about two hundred dragons had left the beach thus far, with more leaving each minute.
«Well, I’ll be right back after I win this next round,» Eoiras said to the allies before sauntering off to find his next opponent.
«Don’t rush yourself,» Devotion grumbled lowly. «Skies, I want to go home.»
«It’ll only be a few more days,» Fortitude said reassuringly, «and at least tomorrow will certainly be less tiresome.»
[JOURNAL ENTRY]
Day 102,
It went well, all things considered.
I was uncertain if this was the best way to go about things, but I’m glad I trusted Fortitude and Devotion’s judgment; their presence commanded enough respect for the others to hear us out despite their fear and misgivings, causing them to stand down after a few rounds of tense discussions.
Things didn’t seem like they were headed in a good direction for a time, but it worked out in the end…at least for now. The important part is that we’ve convinced the majority of dragons to give us a chance, and that’s a big step in the right direction.
The rest of the day was spent showing the dragons various human inventions and tools. It’s nothing we haven’t done before, just on a far larger scale than we’ve ever done. The allies have been immeasurably helpful in speaking on our behalf; we’ll have to settle on their payment tomorrow, at least as much as will be possible with the limited resources aboard the Horizon.
We’ll also need to make sure our injured allies will get the help they need to heal, and once that’s done all that will be left is to decide who to take home with us.
No. That’s not entirely true.
I have a responsibility that can no longer be ignored.
Tomorrow we will begin the dissection of Pathogen. That will likely take a few days, at the very least, and in the meantime we can also use the cadaver to conduct a mock surgery to test the viability of fixing Fortitude’s wing.
I do not feel confident in any attempt at surgery with so little practice, but my examinations of her wing suggest that there is little scar tissue weakening her muscles, so it is likely that the only thing preventing her from flying is the malunion in her equivalent of a “humerus”.
In short, her impairment is a more extreme version of Fathom’s own injury.
Once the mock surgery is complete, I will tell Fortitude my suggestions. Under normal circumstances I would refuse to conduct an optional surgery with so little preparation, but the low population of dragons means that we can’t expect to easily obtain another corpse any time soon. It is ultimately Fortitude’s decision, though I will certainly advise against the operation.
Truth be told, dissecting Pathogen is one of the last things I want to do, but I have no choice in the matter. The information we will gain from studying Pathogen’s body will almost certainly one day save lives. This is something I must do, even if it were not for the promise I made to Devotion.
“Hmm? What is it?” Pryce asked, looking up from his journal.
“My parents want to talk to you,” Fathom repeated. “My father won both his rounds, but my mother and her mate wanted to go home with their hatchling anyway.”
“Oh, I see,” Pryce said, standing up to see the dragons in question standing a short distance away. Off to the side, Kerak could be seen playing with Scott. “What do they want to talk about?”
«We simply wanted to thank you for fixing Huroumh’s wing,» Hunrahn said. «He…has always been talented, even if he has a history of poor decisions.»
«And now he wishes to join you in returning to your home,» Ketan added uncertainly. «I know very little about you humans, but you have proven yourself trustworthy, and my son does consider you a friend.»
«Our roots are too deeply entwined with this land of ours,» Hunrahn continued, «But should you require aid, then feel free to call upon us.»
“I see. Thank you for the offer,” Pryce said, though he wasn’t sure how exactly he would go about sending for help. “I will do my best to ensure he returns home unharmed.”
«Of course,» Ketan nodded, then glanced at the sleeping Celeste. «Is Ahnoumh going to accompany you, Huroumh?»
«Of course, why do you ask?»
His mother paused for a moment. «Our future is quite literally yours to carve. I hope you’ve learnt from your mistakes, else we shall all be paying for them.»
«...understood.»
«Well, that’s all I have to say,» Ketan said, standing up to leave. «Good luck, and come back alive. Kerak, up!»
Kerak’s head whirled around upon hearing his mother’s voice, and the hatchling gave Scott one last headbutt before reluctantly padding back to his mother.
“Wait, Kerak,” Scott said, rummaging through his pockets. “Here, take this,” he said, holding up an empty lighter. He flicked it a few times, causing sparks to leap from the device, though there was no fuel left to burn, and then held it out for the hatchling.
Kerak stared, more wide-eyed than usual before grabbing the makeshift toy and bolting back to his mother. «Mine!» he cackled, causing Scott to snort a laugh as he waved the dragonet goodbye.
Kerak seemed bemused by the unusual gesture, but returned it anyway, albeit with his wing instead of his arm.
Pryce explained what the lighter was to Fathom, who in turn took a moment to reassure Ketan that it was just a toy that made sparks.
«I see,» Ketan said, looking faintly amused. «Thank you for the gift,» she said, nodding to Scott, who returned the gesture. A second later she leapt into the air alongside her mate, her hatchling wrapped tightly around her neck.
«I’m off to find something to eat, but I’ll be back tomorrow,» his father said, also turning to leave. «Rest well, Huroumh.»
«Rest well,» Fathom sighed. “That was embarrassing,” he grumbled to Pryce as they watched his parents fly into the distance.
“I guess parents are just like that,” Pryce shrugged. “And besides, you made those mistakes a long time ago.”
“What? Oh, right, those too,” Fathom said, blinking in realization. “But I was talking about how they tried to appear generous without really offering anything in return. I was hoping they’d be a bit nicer.”
“Oh. I hadn’t noticed that.”
”I know them better than you do,” Fathom shrugged as he massaged his throat. “Ugh. Throat hurts. Talked too much today. Goodnight, Pryce.”
“Goodnight, Fathom.”