The Horizon ¨C a great seafaring vessel built by humanity with the purpose of exploring another continent. The ship had set sail with a crew of forty brilliant individuals poised to do what no one had done before.
Twenty days later, only one remained.
Doctor Alexander Pryce wracked his mind as he attempted to recall what little he had learned, but none of his training had told him how hard it was to stop a ship.
The Horizon plowed through the waves with a tranquil ease that belied the severity of the situation. Why wasn''t the ship slowing down? He''d already killed the engines minutes ago ¨C did the ship just have so much momentum, or was it caught in some invisible current?
Landing was of course a trivial task for a competent crew led by an experienced captain, but he was neither of those things; he hadn¡¯t realized that something as simple as stopping might prove to be an issue.
His periodic glances towards the west showed that he was close enough to see what appeared to be crabs on the pale sandy beach. Given time he would have taken note of the snow-capped mountains that towered above the forest, but in his current situation he only had time to register that there appeared to be no rocks or boulders on the beach that would threaten the hull of the ship. That was good, but he needed to find a way to slow the ship down.
He could drop one of the anchors, but what if it snapped? For a moment he was torn by indecision, but damage to an anchor was far more preferable than damage to the hull. The ship was designed to withstand great punishment, and it had survived a hurricane of unprecedented strength along with a few leviathan attacks, but it was not designed to plow headlong into a beach.
Decision made, he rushed to the nearest small anchor and wrenched open the lever that kept it raised. The chains rattled against each other in a sharp cacophony as each chain dragged its neighbor into the ocean, and after a few seconds ¨C
Pryce staggered as the chains snapped taut, killing the ship¡¯s forward motion. In one instant the links were straining, and in the next they snapped free. Heavy iron links as thick as his wrist cracked against the hull of the ship, and soon afterwards Pryce was knocked off his feet before he could even think to assess the damage. The Horizon groaned as it hit the beach, its bow burrowing deep into the fine sand as the great vessel came to a halt.
Once the ship ceased its movement, Pryce grit his teeth and forced himself up, his wrists a little strained but otherwise unharmed from the impact. Pryce limped his way to the bow and leaned over the side of the bulwark to inspect the hull. No visible damage, though the sand had covered the bottom of the ship, so he would not be able to see any damage from this vantage point. He mentally berated himself for wasting time in indulging his curiosity; he should¡¯ve gone straight to the cargo hold to check for leaks.
Pryce moved as quickly as he could to the bowels of the ship, which was to say he limped at the pace of a brisk walk. His body was far from recovered from its recent ordeals, and he quickly found himself gasping for breath.
When he arrived at the lowest level of the ship he performed a thorough inspection of the hull, bow first. After an hour of tedious and tiring work he was greatly relieved to confirm the absence of any holes in the hull.
If there had been any¡well, it was good that there were none. The steel hull was three centimeters thick, having been designed to survive anything the oceans or the leviathans could throw at it, but if it was breached then repairs would be an extremely difficult task. For small leaks, the ship had a number of rubber plates that could be slapped onto the inside or outside of the hull using an adhesive, but he was grateful that they would not need to be used.
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Countless other concerns flooded to the forefront of his mind as he sat recovering, suffocating any remaining relief he felt. Pryce grimly recalled the series of disasters that befell the crew: The unknown, virulent, and untreatable disease that had ravaged the crew was followed by several leviathan attacks. It was almost unsurprising when the barometer plummeted, the diminished crew unable to properly prepare the ship for a monster of a hurricane.
The weakened seamen were able to furl the sails and batten down the hatches, but some had not made it back below decks before the waves had swept them off. The remaining crew took shelter inside the cabins along with a supply of drinking water and imperishable foods to last a week, trusting in the thick steel hull to protect them.
Instead, it became their casket.
Titanic waves tossed The Horizon like it was a child¡¯s toy in a bathtub, her incredibly sturdy design weathered the storm, but her sick and weakened crew did not.
Except Pryce.
He had been debilitated with seasickness a few days into the journey, meaning he had barely left his room at all. Out of caution he had worn a respiratory mask to protect his weakened body, which may have saved his life. By the time he had begun to recover from his seasickness he was one of the few showing no symptoms of the unknown disease ¨C and as time passed, he became the sole uninfected crewman. Doctor Seibert had ordered all crewmembers to begin wearing masks and gloves at the first sign of illness, though it was likely too late by that point.
As if that weren¡¯t enough, a monstrous hurricane fell upon the crew, further worsening their condition. The constant crash of waves thrashed the entire ship, making eating, drinking, and sleeping an ordeal even for one not battling an illness.
It was due to luck that he survived at all.
He stared down the empty corridor of the ship, then down at his trembling hands. His vision blurred.
Luck.
Pryce opened the inside door, then turned the two heavy cranks to the ¡®open¡¯ position, and the hatch began to ponderously swing open along the hinge at the bottom. The ship¡¯s crane had been used to load the ship¡¯s cargo, so it was the primary method of unloading the ship as well. The very convenient device had been torn off sometime during the storm and was currently lying somewhere on the bottom of the ocean.
He stepped onto the beach in the evening sun, his face set and grim. The beach looked normal enough, the trees along the beach appeared to be relatively normal, which was nice to see. He even saw some coconut palms, which supported the theory that the plants weren¡¯t native to the Mainland.
Aside from the fairly normal looking crabs that scuttled across the sand he saw no other creatures, and the sky was completely clear with a few wisps of cloud floating around.
All in all, it looked quite familiar, which was reassuring at least.
As for his location, he had no way of changing it. Even if he could steer the ship with any confidence, it had less than half the remaining fuel. He had decided to let down the anchors to ensure the ship wouldn¡¯t drift away anytime soon.
This beach would be his home for the foreseeable future, and now¡
It was time to bury his crewmates.
His friends.
The risk management team had taken a hurricane into account, and the fact that The Horizon survived at all proved they did a great job, especially given that no one had expected a storm the size of the one they had encountered. Were they common in this part of the world? Pryce dearly hoped it was just an anomaly.
To deal with a hurricane, every crewman had modified hammocks that would in theory let them weather the storm, though the crew jokingly nicknamed them ¡°cocoons¡± instead. They probably did their job well, protecting the crew from being thrown repeatedly into opposite walls by the waves, though the inhabitants had to inevitably leave to eat, drink, or to use the head.
It was because of this that most of the crewmen had died in their cocoons, likely killed by the unidentified illness. Some may have been too sick to eat or drink, though Pryce had neither the time nor the stomach to perform autopsies on his friends.
He was abundantly cautious and made sure to always wear protective medical equipment whenever he was outside of his room, and double checked everything again when he inspected the bodies of his comrades.
Captain Williams seemed to have died early into the storm, judging by the¡state of the body. He was a good captain, and Pryce took what little solace he could in the fact that he had not suffered very long. The rest of the officers were in a similar condition, they¡¯d been exposed to the elements and were working the hardest, and the illness affected them most severely.
Doctor Seibert was a brilliant medical practitioner; she and Pryce were the two head physicians on the ship. Her corpse showed little signs of decay, though the rigor mortis was no longer present. She had likely died a day or two ago.
The other members of the crew were in varying states of decay, though on average they were less advanced than the seamen. A handful of men along with Mr. Russo, the cook, were found in various places outside of their quarters. Pryce guessed they had stumbled outside for one reason or another, and were unable to make it back to their rooms before perishing. A few bodies had severe bruising; they may have lost their footing as the ship was tossed about.
Though Pryce had searched the entire ship, several men and women were unaccounted for. They weren¡¯t seamen, so they should¡¯ve been below decks when the storm struck. Perhaps they had gone out on deck and were swept into the ocean, delirious from sleep deprivation. He briefly wondered if they had any chance of survival, but soon discarded such hopes; it simply wasn¡¯t possible for a human to survive being swept overboard in the midst of a hurricane.
Seeking a distraction from the gruesome task, he deliberated over the illness that decimated the crew. Something didn¡¯t add up; diseases were almost never so fatal, and the symptoms didn¡¯t match up to anything anyone had ever seen before. It was almost like it made the infected individual more susceptible to the effects of seasickness, which could have weakened the body until the disease proved fatal.
Pryce had little to support this theory, but it was the most sensible one he could think of.
As he was moving the bodies, he noticed the cocoons were oddly colored, they had dark markings on them. Mold?
Realization and nausea struck him at once. Fungal infections were immune to the effects of antibiotics, and they would thrive in dark, potentially damp areas of the ship, like the crew¡¯s quarters. There might have even been some other pathogen that infected the crew at the same time, exacerbating the symptoms.
If the disease had been fungal in nature, then there was nothing anyone could have done. Fungal infections were notoriously difficult to treat. Ultimately, there was nothing he could have done.
Pryce wasn¡¯t sure how he should have felt about that.
As he worked, a grim question occurred to him: where was he going to bury the bodies? It was a question that needed answering, however unpleasant it may be.
The ship had pygmy pigs and chickens aboard for livestock, though many had not survived. Much of the animal feed had spilled, but that didn¡¯t make it inedible, and fortunately they got their water from rubber nipples else the contents would have been spilled by troughs long ago. In the end, 4 out of 6 pigs had died, along with 7 of the 12 chickens. All of the males had died, so he wouldn¡¯t be breeding any more of them, but that wasn¡¯t much of a concern.
Disposing of the dead livestock was as simple and as strenuous as leaving the partially decayed pigs and chickens out on the beach, but that wouldn¡¯t do for his crew.
He couldn¡¯t bury them in the dirt, that would take weeks of digging by himself and the bodies would all rapidly decay in that time. Sand was much more feasible, though there was the risk of the winds unearthing the graves one day. Either way, that was something he would worry about later though; the sun had just gone down.
He swayed on his feet as a wave of exhaustion hit him; he had almost forgotten that he was still malnourished and sleep deprived.
In the galley he made himself a simple soup with some dried herbs, onions, potatoes, and dried meats. His stomach had not had solid foods in it for days now, so he would have to start off with only drinking the broth, no matter how much he felt like tearing into the not-quite-tender boiled salt beef.
The simple soup was easily the most delicious thing he¡¯d ever eaten, though the lack of solid food was somewhat unsatisfying. Pryce knew the effects malnourishment had on the brain and body, though he had never experienced it himself; he could probably eat anything even remotely edible and still find it delicious.
Once he¡¯d finished three bowls of broth his hunger was finally sated, and suddenly he became extremely exhausted. He left the galley for his room, though not without giving the vegetables and meat in the stew a longing glance.
Pryce stumbled to his room, already half asleep, but when he opened the door to his room he was suddenly torn from his stupor. The small room was a mess ¨C the stench of dried vomit permeated the air, and for a moment he was back in the storm again, being tossed around like a ragdoll. Then he started, and remembered where he was; he was not in the storm, and the floor was not moving beneath him.
He slammed the door shut and fled from the room. He was hyperventilating, he realized, and with difficulty he was able to force his breathing to slow.
He glanced at the door ¨C his door ¨C one more time, and left.
In the end he decided to take the room of the first man to die on their journey, a seaman by the name of Henry. He was jovial and well-liked, but his guileless nature led to his demise when he fell overboard. The ropes weren¡¯t cast out in time, and despite several seamen watching him, not a single one saw what finally pulled him under. The tragedy had sobered the crew considerably, and everyone took their duties with even greater dedication afterwards.
Henry¡¯s room was empty and clean, his belongings long since stored in the cargo hold for his family, if he had any. Pryce set up a relatively clean hammock and settled into it, then groaned and forced himself back up when he realized he forgot to take his latitude. If he didn¡¯t read it now, he¡¯d have to take a reading tomorrow night¡tempting, but his curiosity won over his exhaustion.
Pryce lit a lantern, grumbling and muttering profanities while limping down the hallways and climbing ladders until he was out on the deck of the ship. He quickly sighted the North Star and jotted the latitude in his notebook, and made four more observations for accuracy¡¯s sake.
Average reading: 15.4¡ã North.
[1] He had half of his proper location now, and by noon tomorrow he would have his exact coordinates.
Pryce entered the wheelhouse, where he knew the biggest map on the ship was located. Despite the dim lighting in the room, he knew the image there well enough that he could see it as clearly as if it were in broad daylight.
It was a symbol of humanity¡¯s achievement, as well one of hope. He was sure there wasn¡¯t a single human adult in existence who hadn''t seen this image.
Now it was almost mocking him; he had once dreamed to be one of the first humans to step foot on this foreign land, and now he was the first and only one to do so ¨C with no way of returning.
He had his latitude, and really there was only one possible place for him to be: the east coast, but for the sake of clarity he held off on marking his position until he calculated his longitude.
Pryce walked back outside with a heavy heart, and took a deep breath before looking up at the bright moon in the twilight sky. It was somewhere between the waxing crescent and quarter¨Cmoon phases, though the shadowed section of the moon was higher, almost on top of the natural satellite ¨C different from the familiar slanted shadow. He¡¯d known that this effect had been long since calculated mathematically, but to see it in person was something else entirely. Pryce stared for a full minute at the beautifully familiar-yet-not sky before him, wishing that it was a sight he could¡¯ve shared with the crew.
For a moment he allowed himself to indulge in the fantasy that he was simply taking a breath of fresh air while they all slept belowdecks, but no matter how dearly he wished otherwise, the reality was he was alone here on this beach, his only company being The Horizon herself and the pigs ¨C
Pryce quickly leaned over the bulwark; two of the pigs were missing. He could see his own footprints leading up to it, but no pigs. It wasn¡¯t surprising for the old carcasses to have been scavenged, but so quickly, with no trace left behind?
He went back down to the ramp leading to the beach, arming himself with a hunting rifle with a magazine of six 12 mm bullets ¨C the highest caliber available, and a machete. Several minutes later he stood before the door and cracked it open by a hair, then waited.
Five seconds. Ten. Twenty. Thirty. His breathing and pulse slowed, but remained steady at a rate significantly higher than normal.
No sound other than the waves, he slowly pushed the door open and stepped outside, rifle first. The beach was empty. No sign of the pigs, though the chickens were untouched. Pryce slowly made his way to where he remembered setting down the animals, keeping his eyes trained on the forest about fifty meters from his position. He knelt down, keeping his rifle up and examined the sand beneath him.
There were no footprints or tracks, or at least any that he could tell belonged to an animal familiar to him. No, that wasn¡¯t quite right, there was one track; a single long furrow of sand, one fainter than the other. The sand around him was also distributed oddly, it looked like¡what did it look like? The sand seemed to have formed twin swirls. It was almost like the vortices that sometimes appeared in the wake of a ship, he realized.
A strange dragging track, with no footprints. That meant a creature capable of flight had picked the pigs off the ground. Not only that, but the long furrow ¨C was it left by a dragging tail? If true, that indicated the creature had only completed a single pass.
Something that could fly and carry two pigs at once, each creature weighing in at about a hundred kilograms.
*Clunk*
Pryce cranked the ramp back up, pulled the levers that locked it back into place, and then locked the door for good measure. He resolutely limped all the way back to his new room, where he promptly collapsed onto the hammock, where exhaustion saved him from a fitful and restless sleep.
Chapter 2, Day 21: Failure
Pryce woke from a deep and dreamless sleep, though he did not open his eyes for a few minutes more. Eventually his hunger forced him to get up despite his aching body, though he generally felt quite a bit better than he did yesterday.
Opening his eyes, he saw how brightly the sun shone outside his window and realized he probably slept past noon. Damn.
It wasn¡¯t surprising considering the state he was in, but frustrating nonetheless; he forced himself to get out of bed last night just to determine his latitude, he only needed longitude to determine his approximate position on this island. Practically speaking it wasn¡¯t a critical task; it would take him more than a few days to settle in. His main concern at the moment was whatever creature took the pigs last night.
As it was, he knew nothing but the size and shape of the island, and not his location. At the very least, any task that required that information would only be useful on any expeditions into the island.
He winced as he stretched out his aching muscles, feeling as though he aged a decade recently. He definitely would not be launching any expeditions for at least a few days.
He laid in bed for a few more minutes, but eventually forced himself to climb on deck and take a reading with the sextant in case it wasn¡¯t noon yet. Two readings five minutes apart, and Pryce determined that the sun was indeed setting. He sighed.
Returning to the galley, he brought the batch of stew he had made last night to a delicious boil. This time he slurped up some of the softened vegetables, hoping his body wouldn¡¯t react adversely to the soft foods.
Pryce then took his time savoring his delicious meal while he contemplated his options.
First, he had to bury his crewmates ¨C no way around that. He had food and water to last him a very long time ¨C he should probably do an inventory check soon now that he thought about it. After that¡well, whatever he wanted to do, that would require resources, and while the ship had a great stockpile of tools and materials, any long-term plan required exploration.
He would have to exercise extreme caution when doing anything outside the ship, especially with unknown and probably hostile wildlife. Pryce resolved to always bring a firearm with him no matter where he went on the island, even if it was just for a walk on the beach.
Before heading out, he made sure to feed and take care of the livestock; they weren¡¯t in very good condition and needed to be nursed back to proper health. It took quite a bit of work cleaning up the refuse left by several pigs over the course of ten days, but at least there were only two pigs and five chickens now, so any future work would be far less intensive.
In the end he decided on a machete, a canteen of water, a compass, and a rifle with three magazines of six 12 mm bullets. Better safe than sorry.
Pryce let the hatch fall at its slow and steady pace, cogs clunking away rhythmically as he used his free hands to train the rifle at the entryway.
Squinting as his eyes watered and adjusted to the bright sunlight, he lifted his rifle up at the ready; everyone in the crew had been trained in basic utilization of critical equipment, and that included firearm training. Though he was by no means a great shot, he could manage most targets at 30 meters from a standing position.
When he was sure there was nothing on the beach or in the sky, he took a deep breath of relief. The beach looked peaceful enough, the waves calmly lapping on the pristine sand. There was a sparse forest about 50 meters from the shoreline that he could see more clearly now, with the trees getting denser further into the island. The remaining pigs and chickens were gone now, as he¡¯d expected, with no tracks to be seen.
When he had commandeered the ship, he had followed the coast from a great distance in order to locate a river. Thanks to his foresight, there was a river about three hundred meters south of his position.
He grabbed a shovel before going north along the beach, away from the river. He made sure to glance upwards at the sky and sideways towards the forest to keep a lookout for any potential dangers. At a distance of about 100 meters from the ship, he cautiously gathered twigs from the nearby forest to demarcate an outline of the burial site.
Most people didn¡¯t think of sand as something heavy, at least until they tried moving a few cubic meters of it. Given the number of bodies he had to bury, he¡¯d have to move tens of tons of the stuff at the very least. Pryce was a healthy fifty-year-old man, and quite a bit stronger than average, but he was far from fully recovered yet. Still, it wasn¡¯t as if time were much of an issue, and it wasn¡¯t as if he had anything else to do.
Resolution made, he picked up his shovel.
It was harder than Pryce expected to dig in loose sand. Digging a small hole was easy, but soon he had reached a depth where the sand was starting to be wet and heavy. When Pryce expanded the hole further, he had to stand inside the hole where he constantly lost his footing in the shifting sands, and progress began to slow.
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An hour of grueling work later he had a small grave fit for perhaps two or three bodies¡which the wind threatened to fill back in.
He sighed, rattling his empty canteen before heading back to the ship to refill the container and to take a break. Bringing several canteens with him this time, he returned to the dig site and was about to resume his work when he noticed something odd.
Pryce could hear plenty of bird calls, but he never saw any, at least not for long. Sometimes he thought he saw something move out of the corner of his eye, but he never saw anything clearly. Looking up he could only see one bird gliding high up in the sky, likely a hawk or something similar.
Were the birds avoiding predators by taking shelter in the trees? Well, at least a predator that hunts small birds shouldn¡¯t prove too much of a threat to a human, unless it was a type of creature that hunted in flocks¡
Pryce shook his head and decided to hold off on borrowing trouble for now, no use in speculation when he had so little information to begin with.
He picked up his shovel and returned to his arduous task, sliding down into the sand pit. But as he hit the ground his back muscles spasmed, causing him to yelp in pain as he tumbled down and landed face down in the wet sand.
Pryce would¡¯ve been embarrassed at such a display, but his fall had knocked the rest of the sand free, and the countless grains of sand tumbled onto him while he was helpless to resist ¨C his legs had been pinned in the few seconds he spent recovering from the muscle spasm. He somehow managed to fall facing up, but even the slightest movement caused his back to scream in pain even as sand covered more and more of his body, eventually slowing to a stop at his shoulders.
Fortunately, Pryce could still breathe, though with some difficulty, and each breath threatened to free yet more sand to pile upon his body.
Some part of his panicked mind pointed out the irony of this pit being his grave when he intended it for his crewmates, but most of it was focusing on the perilous situation he was in. He knew he had to take slow, steady breaths. Too quickly and he ran the risk of burying himself further, which would be a death sentence.
He tried to push the sand off his chest with his hands, but that caused more sand to take its place. At that moment his brain decided it was a great idea to remind him that excessive vibration or aeration could cause sand to act more as a liquid, a process known as fluidization. He remembered being fascinated by the phenomenon when he learned it all those decades ago.
Not particularly helpful.
How could he get out of this situation? He¡¯d heard of people getting trapped under sand before ¨C why didn¡¯t he remember that before he started digging? Sometimes the trapped individuals would be rescued before they died, but he never heard about what one should do to get out of it. Waiting around for someone to come to his rescue was obviously not an option at the moment.
At least he wasn¡¯t too badly trapped, if there was any more weight, he wouldn¡¯t be able to expand his lungs at all ¨C
¡°Got it,¡± Pryce rasped breathlessly. He was already exhausted from his earlier labor, and the suffocating weight was rapidly draining his stamina. He realized that he could still breathe, so his lungs could still expand and contract, which meant that when he breathed out there was space ¨C space for him to move. He took a deep breath, expanding his torso as far as he could, then exhaled steadily while contorting his body like a worm.
He slid a few centimeters ¨C it worked! A bit more sand fell, but it was nothing, he took another deep breath, repeating his step but twisting in the opposite direction.
He slid even further this time! His breathing sped up involuntarily, lungs desperate for more air, but he forced it to slow as he repeated the steps over and over like a worm until he could push himself up. Now that most of the pile of sand had collapsed, it was easy to get out of what had just nearly been a death-trap mere moments ago. Even so, he panted as he half-stumbled, half-crawled his way out. He was wet and absolutely coated in sand all over his body with the exception of his face.
He panted for a few more moments, then straightened.
Something moved.
Pryce wasn¡¯t sure what, but something big in the forest moved. He stood there motionless for a few moments, trying to see it again. When he didn¡¯t, he cautiously made his way over to the rifle laying a few meters away, then snatched it up. He held the rifle at the ready for another few moments, slowly advancing when nothing happened.
He stopped a few meters from the nearest tree of the forest and scanned his surroundings for signs of any animals. Seeing no immediate threats, he knelt down and pushed aside a plant that resembled a fern to reveal¡tracks.
Approximately 30 centimeters in length, 15 centimeters in width, and with two long digits ending in large talons. The tracks led from the trees in an arc, then back into the forest.
Pryce quickly retreated to the open beach; his stomach lurched as he realized how closely he had skirted death from two sources. Judging from the size and depth of the prints, the creature was larger and heavier than human, and no herbivore he had ever seen would have talons like that...
Based on how it had not immediately attacked him, it was likely at least somewhat intelligent. Plenty of predators would avoid unusual creatures¡at least at first. He had seen from the tracks that they were bipedal, so the closest analogue he knew of would be a massive, carnivorous turkey ¨C a dinosaur, he realized with horror, or something like one.
Pryce walked backwards towards the ship, his eyes never leaving the treeline as he wondered what could be watching him at this very moment.
That night, he made sure to seal the hatch shut.
Pryce forgot to brush the sand clinging to his skin and clothes out on the beach, so he¡¯d done his best to brush it off in the cargo hold¡without much success.
He felt much better after he finished eating, though the deep-seated bitterness of defeat still lingered in his heart. Forget exploring the island and establishing a base, he had failed in digging a simple grave. With his belly full he dragged himself back to his new room, too tired to make broth for tomorrow, and collapsed onto his hammock to fall into a fitful and dreamless sleep.
Chapter 3, Day 22: Wayfinding
Pryce woke up and winced. He was definitely in worse condition than yesterday¡maybe he should¡¯ve waited for his body to have fully recovered before he started exerting himself so much. What was he doing again¡?
¡Right, the burial pit. He rubbed his eyes as he began to fully awaken. No convenient solutions had come to mind despite his hopes, save for perhaps shoring up the slopes of sand with panels of metal in the cargo hold, but that would still be extremely difficult. The pit would likely take him weeks to finish by himself, which was far too slow.
He slowly and painfully forced himself out of bed anyway; there were still things he could do, even if he had to focus on recovery.
First, he noticed that the sun wasn¡¯t high in the sky yet, so it was still morning at least. That was good, he allowed himself to take his time to stretch for about half an hour. When he was done his body still ached in protest, but at least he wasn¡¯t as stiff as a board.
When he was done, he went and prepared more stew in the galley. His stomach grumbled at his past self¡¯s laziness while the stew bubbled away merrily.
Pryce killed the fire after a few minutes, stretched some more while the stew simmered and cooled, then he served himself a bowlful of his first hot, truly solid meal. He slightly burnt his tongue in his haste, but Pryce couldn''t bring himself to care.
The experience reminded him of better days spent at the lab where he¡¯d begin and end his days with a simple stew, and for a moment he could close his eyes and pretend he was back home, the likelihood of seeing friends and family a certainty rather than a mere fantasy.
Eventually he opened his eyes and returned to reality. Sitting up from the chair with a groan, he left the galley to gather a sheet of paper, a pencil, and the sextant.
-Pryce stumbled his way to the deck of the ship and took a reading with the sextant, waited five minutes, and then sighted the sun again. It was higher now, which was good. That meant it wasn¡¯t noon yet, all he had to do was keep taking readings until the sun started going lower, then he¡¯d know what time noon was. He¡¯d need to write down his observations and ¨C Pryce smacked himself in the forehead for his carelessness; he¡¯d forgotten to retrieve his chronometer.
Groaning and occasionally grunting in pain, Pryce made his way down and into his original quarters. He took a few seconds to brace himself for the familiar sight, and opened the door. Fortunately the smell had waned since last time, and he was only moderately uncomfortable to be back in his original room. He quickly opened a cabinet and took out his small chest of personal belongings, and slowly lugged it back to his new room, taking great care with the contents of the chest.
Once inside the room he sat on his knees, gently laying the chest onto the floor. He neatly moved aside various personal items for later use, then carefully retrieved a bundle of spare clothing from the center of the chest. Unwrapping the bundle revealed a simple but sturdy wooden box.
The latches on the box opened with a satisfying click, and the hinges smoothly swung open to show a shining metal chronometer sitting on the softly padded interior of the box, its face hidden by an engraved steel shell.
Mk. 10 Wright Marine Chronometer
Beneath the model number was a number that was visibly carved by hand:
542,639
Pryce turned it over and ran a thumb over the engraved words on the backside of the cover.
For A. Pryce
He looked at the familiar words, then closed his eyes and held the chronometer against his forehead for a few moments before pocketing it.
For most of history, determining longitude at sea to any degree of accuracy was simply impossible. Doing so required accurate timekeeping, and while pendulum clocks were accurate enough, they were useless on the open ocean.
Max Wright solved that problem over a decade ago with the invention of the Mk. 7 Chronometer. In fact, he had further improved upon the Mk. 7 design until he created the Mk. 9 Chronometer which sat in the wheelhouse ¨C that brilliant device only lost a third of a second per day. His own Mk. 10 had similar timekeeping accuracy, but was small enough to fit in the palm of his hand.
Thanks to that invention, all he needed to know in order to determine his longitude was the time of noon, and that was easily discerned using the sextant.
Pryce also had the longwave radio receiver sitting out on the deck; it had a large battery that would receive and amplify the signals sent out from the mainland.
He wasn¡¯t an expert in electronics, but he knew the basic principles on which it operated; Longwave radio waves were simply very long electromagnetic waves, they had very little energy compared to wavelengths like visible light, and they carried much less information than shorter wavelengths of light could. He had heard an analogy saying that it was similar to how writing in large font might make something legible from a greater distance, but that also means being able to write less information on the same sheet of paper.
Why use longwaves at all then? Because they had the advantage of range.
Conventional transmitters and receivers could only operate if they had a line-of-sight, which meant a range of about 6 kilometers until the curvature of the Earth blocked the signal if one were transmitting and receiving at ground level. Taller radio towers meant more range, nothing like what they needed for this expedition.
The key was that longwave radio signals could bounce off of the ionosphere. Overland tests had shown an easily detectable signal from a distance of over 2,000 kilometers, but any more than that was all theoretical guesswork. Since this method of timekeeping couldn¡¯t be relied upon, it was meant to be used as a backup in case the chronometer failed.
He planned on using both methods, and if they gave him wildly different results, then something was very, very wrong. He didn¡¯t even know what could possibly account for that.
An hour or so of tediously recording one observation per minute later, Pryce had determined the time of noon to be approximately 5:31 pm central time. Every hour of difference between noontime between two given locations meant 15 degrees of longitudinal separation, so calculating longitude was as easy as multiplying hours by 15.
He¡¯d done all of this calculation before when determining his location after the hurricane had passed, so it only took a minute of scribbling calculations for him to determine his coordinates and uncertainty:
15.40 ¡À 0.05¡ã N
82.75 ¡À 0.25¡ã W
The uncertainty for longitude in latitude in more tangible units were 6 km and 22 km, respectively ¨C too small to be of consequence considering the resolution of his map.
The radio signal should arrive 5 hours 31 minutes before noon, as the mainland was in the east and their ¡®noon¡¯ would have occurred at 6:29 AM for Pryce. He¡¯d have to wake up early tomorrow to check and see if the results agreed with one another.
Knowing his location was a trivial amount of progress, but Pryce relished the feeling anyway as he made his way to the wheelhouse. Opening the door, he was greeted with the great map pinned against the back of the room.
It was all over the newspapers at the time of its capture and retrieval. Even so, it never ceased to inspire wonder in him that humanity could now send satellites into space¡only in fairly low orbit, but it was exciting nonetheless. He remembered the long-held dream of countless people that they would be part of the generation to venture out from their homeland and explore the rest of the world.
His excitement faltered as he recalled what should have been, what things would have been if only the circumstances were only a little different.
Captain Williams would have thrown a celebratory party when they¡¯d made landfall, and the seamen would¡¯ve given him a headache with their cheering. Seibert would¡¯ve tried to remain stoic, but she¡¯d crack a smile when no one was watching. The engineers and scientists, Pryce included, would¡¯ve been impatient to go and make new discoveries on this foreign land, probably naming it after themselves despite Pryce¡¯s protests against such a ridiculous practice.
None of it would ever happen now.
Pryce huffed in frustration, he needed to stop thinking about the past. There was nothing he could do for the dead now, except his very best to do what they had died for.
After double-checking his math, he drew a small X on the map to denote his location. He probably should have waited to confirm his longitude before drawing on the main map, but at that moment he felt like he needed to see some progress, no matter how small.
Resolutely concentrating on his current situation, Pryce remembered that the Horizon had been blown off course, but not too badly. He had attempted to use the least amount of fuel possible to make landfall, and had done a reasonably good job considering the circumstances. If another expedition were sent after them, they would attempt to make landfall on the east side of the island, at a latitude of 22.5 degrees north ¨C where the Horizon was originally slated to land.
The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
Pryce knew that there was a second, better ship under construction that was planned to launch soon after their return, but that ship was on track to launch a year after the start of their journey. He had no way of knowing how their disappearance would affect the launch date, it might cause them to send it out earlier for a rescue attempt, or it might delay the construction, but surely it wouldn¡¯t cause the cancellation of the program? Rich tycoons had sponsored the project that built The Horizon ¨C more out of a thirst for fame and fortune than scientific curiosity, but money was money. None of that would change with the disappearance of a single ship.
Or so he told himself. There was no hope for him if rescue wasn¡¯t a possibility, and certainly no chance of him sailing back to the mainland; that was impossible even for a seasoned sailor, let alone an untrained man.
The propellers were only meant to support the sails, subpar wind and lower than expected efficiency meant there was about a third of the fuel left; nowhere near enough to get back under most conditions, he would need great winds and currents on his side for any chance at survival. Anything less than that meant he¡¯d be stuck in the middle of the ocean until he ran out of food or water.
Looking back on the map with his location marked out, he wasn¡¯t sure what to think of his position. This island ¨C he should name it sometime soon ¨C was very elongated, though with no discernible shape or pattern to it.
The satellite imagery was far too low-resolution to determine anything other than the shape of the island, and he definitely could not determine the locations of rivers or lakes from it. Despite this, the knowledge of his position gave him a starting point for him to formulate his plans.
Next, he went to the globe in the room; it would have less distortion than the map. Pryce put a pin on his current coordinates, measured the distance between it and the port where The Horizon had begun her journey, then scaled it up. If he wanted to calculate it mathematically, he could¡¯ve used the Haversine formula¡but to hell with that trigonometric mess, a simple measurement would be more than sufficient for his needs.
He scribbled out his answer and sighed. He was about nine thousand kilometers from home¡the furthest any human had ever been. It was something he knew already, of course, but putting a number to it made his isolation all the more tangible.
Pushing away his desolation, he thought about what he needed to do right now, and everything came down to him not knowing enough. He knew nothing in regard to the island¡¯s climate, environment, or wildlife, so that would be one of his foremost concerns.
It was time to perform some wildlife observation.
Pryce sat down on a chair on the deck of the ship, rifle leaning against the wall of the ship and camera at the ready. He had placed two of the dead chickens at the treeline where predators like the ones responsible for the ¡®dinosaur¡¯ tracks might feel safe, and yet still be visible from his position.
He scanned the trees with his binoculars, looking as far into the forest as he could¡and waited.
Several hours later Pryce had only recorded sightings of a few birds. The wing structure of the birds on this island seemed different, they flapped in a strange, almost undulating way, though he hadn¡¯t seen any of them long enough to get a close look. The birds were always flying, and there was no chance of him shooting one down at this distance. On one occasion a bird had landed on a branch, but Pryce didn¡¯t bother bringing up his rifle, he didn¡¯t want to scare off any more dangerous predators from approaching.
It was getting close to sunset now, and Pryce wasn¡¯t sure if his bait was going to work. For some reason what scant wildlife he had seen were completely ignoring the chicken. Maybe some instinct to avoid rotten flesh? Perhaps he would stake down a live chicken tomorrow, though he only had five of them left.
He pondered the problem while he waited and watched. He occasionally used the binoculars to try and peer deep into the forests. Though he was able to see some distance into the trees, he still never saw anything of note.
Soon afterwards the sun had set, and he would have no chance of seeing anything at night, even with the moon bright above in the sky.
Sighing as he pushed himself up from his chair, Pryce collected his blank sheet of notes and equipment in case it rained, leaving the pen and binoculars on the deck. Before he turned away, he noticed something floating out of the corner of his eye and turned to stare at it.
It was a floating sphere, earthen-hued, and about twelve centimeters in diameter.
Pryce ran to the side of the ship, leaning over the bulwark to catch the object. Of course, in most situations it was foolish to touch a foreign lifeform, but this was something that he recognized ¨C a spore pod. These bizarre objects were occasionally discovered by random individuals, and for most of human history they were shrouded in mystery, often being the object of superstition. None of the discovered pods had successfully reproduced until it was placed in a greenhouse, the apparently suitable environment allowing it to grow into a bizarre fungus that bore a superficial resemblance to a short, stout tree. Despite this breakthrough, none of the specimens seemed particularly healthy; few produced viable pods, and none produced pods that could float, because none of them were filled with hydrogen gas that its progenitor had.
He paced excitedly; this island must be the native land of these pods! The weather was warm like the interior of a greenhouse, so if he looked around ¨C there was another, and another! The sun had set, but the moonlight distinctly outlined the many pods ascending from their fungal stalks to the night sky, far faster than the one he had caught. Why wasn¡¯t this one floating? Perhaps it was an older one, or defective somehow.
Pryce smiled for the first time since making landfall, if only for a moment. He gently released the spore pod, letting it float along the beach, and went to sleep with a lighter heart.
[JOURNAL ENTRY]
Day 22,
Due to unfortunate circumstances, I have neglected to maintain my habit of writing in my personal journal since the start of the journey. I have written in great detail in another notebook, while this journal will contain my personal thoughts. I have included a short summary the events of days prior to my landfall for future reference.
Day 1: I conversed with various members of the crew while performing routine checks on their physical health, and took samples from the ocean to study.
Day 2: Regretfully, Sailor Henry fell overboard on this day and was unable to be recovered. Spirits were far lower after this event, though most dedicated themselves further to maintaining discipline. I can only hope to do the same.
Day 3: I fell violently ill to seasickness for a week after this day, and remained in my cabin for that duration. The information regarding following events was obtained from Dr. Siebert and Captain William¡¯s meticulous notes.
(First leviathan attack. This one was minor, only lightly denting the hull before fleeing)
Day 4: Several crewmen began to show symptoms of respiratory infection in addition to irritating rash on the skin. Patients treated with antibiotics.
Day 5-6: Antibiotic treatment ineffective. More began to show signs of this unidentified illness. The first infected patients began to show symptoms of seasickness (Including individuals who had never experienced seasickness in their life) while the initial symptoms intensified in severity.
Day 7: Most severely ill crewmen were quarantined. Engineer Taylor died due to prior minor respiratory complications exacerbated by the illness. Seibert suspected the cause of illness to be fungal in nature. Symptoms of illness include extreme nausea, vomiting, and cold sweat along with mild-to-moderate dermatitis.
(Second leviathan attack, worse than the first, but no holes in the ship.)
Day 8: Symptoms continued to intensify, and my seasickness began to abate. Crewmen John, William, and Dale passed away from the illness.
Day 9: Symptoms continued to intensify, I felt somewhat recovered on this day.
(A third leviathan was spotted, but scared off with acoustic grenades before any damage was done)
Day 10: Nearly all crew were showing symptoms of illness when the hurricane struck. Ship was prepared for the storm and thus only suffered minor damage in addition to the cargo crane breaking off. Crew quarantined themselves for the remainder of the storm.
Day 11-19: Symptoms presumably worsened throughout the hurricane.
Day 20: The storm ended early this morning, and I regained my senses after nearly 17 days of uninterrupted seasickness. Soon afterwards I discovered that the entirety of the rest of the crew were deceased. I used the sextant and chronometer to determine my coordinates, and by chance the Horizon was only a hundred or so kilometers from the closest part of the island.
The evidence left behind by the creature who took the pigs concerns me greatly, an airborne creature capable of lifting away ~200 kilograms of pig truly strains the imagination, but I cannot imagine an alternate possibility. I can only imagine what kind of creature could be responsible for such a feat, I hope it is not too hostile.
I determined my latitude using the north star: 15.40 ¡À 0.05¡ã N
Day 21: As embarrassing as it is to admit, I almost died on this day while digging a grave on the beach for the crew. I have heard of others being buried before, but I didn¡¯t think it would happen to me. I have to be more careful.
Soon after my mishap, I made another unsettling discovery: The prints of a large bipedal creature ¨C 30 centimeters in length, 15 centimeters in width, and with two long digits ending in large talons. The prints came from deeper in the treeline, and stopped around the border before heading back. I believe I saw something move out of the corner of my eye after I escaped from the sand pit, and that something is watching me.
Things are not going well, to say the least.
Day 22: Today I determined my coordinates:
15.40 ¡À 0.05¡ã N
82.75 ¡À 0.25¡ã W
I have resolved to spend the next few days recovering; my health has not been the same since day 1 of this expedition, and I need to be at my best for whatever may come.
That is not to say I am doing nothing; I have cleaned the livestock pens and spent the day attempting to learn more of the island¡¯s wildlife ¨C most notably the creature who took the pigs and the bipedal creature who left the tracks near the beach.
Unfortunately I saw no creatures today with the exception of some birds, though they did not land where I could have a clear visual. I had left a dead chicken as bait, but it was left undisturbed throughout the day. Odd, I had expected at least some scavengers.
Despite the failure, I did make one important discovery; this island is the source of the Spore Pods! Or at least capable of supporting their growth, it¡¯s entirely possible they are native to the larger landmass in the south.
As for other forms of life, I have only seen beach trees that greatly resemble the ones on the mainland, as well as a few familiar looking coconut trees and crabs. I have not studied either of these yet, so I cannot say for certain how similar they are to the ones on the mainland. The coconut trees in particular are interesting, the seeds must have floated across the ocean¡though I have no idea how to determine where they originated from.
I will attempt to use a live chicken as bait tomorrow, hopefully I can find the creature responsible for the ominous tracks.
Chapter 4, Day 23: Bait
Pryce was awoken early in the morning by the ding of the radio, causing him to stumble around in the darkness until he lit the lantern. He had connected it to the battery before going to sleep so it could ring out, but he was surprised that it actually worked. Pryce checked the chronometer, and saw it was indeed 6:29:15 AM.
That measurement resulted in a longitude of 82.6875 ¡À 0.002¡ã West, which translated to an uncertainty of 3.6 kilometers ¨C great, but not particularly helpful at the moment. It might prove to be useful at some point in the distant future, though Pryce knew his odds of living to see that day were far from stellar.
He tried going back to sleep for another hour, but forced himself up when he realized he wasn¡¯t going to fall back asleep. At least he felt a bit better than he had yesterday, having a day to mostly recover had done him well.
He cleaned up the pens and noticed one chicken was more lethargic than the others, so he selected that one as his bait.
He¡¯d have to be careful about this, if he went about this plan the wrong way then he¡¯d lose one of his valuable chickens for nothing. What he wanted to learn about were the creatures that posed a threat to him, so he moved the sickly bird to a small but sturdy cage usually meant for trapping small animals. Hopefully it would protect the bird from any of the weaker predators or scavengers, giving him a chance to observe the true threats.
As Pryce walked out to the beach, he saw the dead chickens were no longer on the ground and sighed. Of course something had come along in the night. It was a pity there was no one to establish a night watch¡it was a pity there was no one around to do anything, really. He wasn¡¯t too bothered by the loss as there wasn¡¯t much he could have done with the dead fowl, and he could try and shoot down a bird if he wanted to get some dead bait.
He had thought about using crabs in a cage to lure in predators, but he wasn¡¯t sure if the predators would prey on crabs either; if they did then he should have seen their tracks on the beach.
Having staked a metal rod into the ground, he tied the chicken coop to it, securing it in place.
Then he retreated to the ship, and waited with a camera at the ready.
A few hours later, Pryce had been more successful than he had been the day before. A few birds of prey had perched on trees to observe the chicken as it clucked nervously, though all had left without attacking it.
It was thanks to these observations that he noticed the birds had six limbs. Two pairs of wings, and one pair of talons.
Modern theories stated that all of life came from one common ancestor, and all currently existing life forms could be drawn as descendants of this common ancestor in a great tree of life. Certain traits could be used to identify which creatures shared a more recent common ancestor than others, for example creatures who have four limbs were known as tetrapods, and having five fingers was known as pentadactylism. Creatures who had these traits could be grouped together as they had probably descended from a common ancestor who was the first to have those traits. This was of course assuming the trait hadn¡¯t developed independently more than once, but there was never a way to be certain when looking at the distant past.
If this assumption was correct, then he might be more closely related to any tetrapodal creature than these six-limbed bird-like creatures. It was for this reason that he wasn¡¯t even sure if he should classify these as birds.
For the case of convenience, he decided on calling them birds or avians for the time being.
It was around noon when Pryce saw something move in the forest. He quickly zoomed in on the camera, zeroing in on the chicken in a second. Then Pryce saw something move.
It wasn¡¯t moving fast, quite the opposite in fact, but it was as if a patch of the forest itself was shifting. Pryce clicked the shutter button several times as the thing moved, he could take his time to make sense of what he was seeing later.
He took a picture every few seconds as he watched the animal through the lens, it was close to the chicken now, very close, and then Pryce saw it extend a limb as it began to experimentally tap the cage.
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Rat-tap-tap
Pryce knew better than to anthropomorphize actions, but the way the creature moved simply screamed curiosity, maybe even intelligence. It poked and prodded at the trap while the chicken clucked in fear, until it reached the metal flap that opened inwards ¨C Pryce¡¯s eyes widened ¨C and pushed the flap open. It seemed surprised for a moment, poking at the spring-loaded flap a few times before snatching the now screeching chicken, quickly silencing it.
Then the creature moved, and Pryce instantly lost track of the creature as it completely disappeared into the forest.
His heart hammered in his chest as he looked at the remains of his bait, steel cage unharmed as a few white feathers drifted to the ground.
Pryce didn¡¯t want to waste any film, so before he developed the roll he took photos of the ship, the area around the ship, the wrecked chicken coop, and (very cautiously) took pictures of the tracks he saw yesterday ¨C with a ruler for scale, of course.
He remembered an argument some of the crew had over whether to use instant or film photography. The former was nice and convenient, while the other was able to take better pictures more rapidly, as well as having a known shelf life of a few decades in the right conditions. The argument ended when someone pointed out that they could just bring equipment for both, especially with how little space instant photography needed. Pryce fondly remembered joining in on the laughter as the participants flushed red with embarrassment.
Despite having access to both, Pryce had decided to use a film camera today. He had thought the ability to take multiple pictures in rapid succession would be important, and he was right. If he had used an instant camera, he would only have one or two pictures of the raptor as opposed to the eight he¡¯d gotten on film.
Preparation took some time, as he had to wait for the film to develop. Pryce paced back and forth as he waited for the final stabilization process to complete, then quickly pulled out the film the moment the chronometer hit the minute mark.
He forced himself to slow down as he delicately dried the film off with a cloth, and carefully inserted the film into the viewer.
[JOURNAL ENTRY]
Day 23: I have had success in viewing the bipedal predator, capturing many images of it ¨C though none of them show much detail.
Please refer to the roll of film I have labeled D24, in the event that the film is not available, I will summarize what I could confirm here:
- The closest analogue to this predator I can provide is a prehistoric raptor, approximately the height of a man with what appears to be bare skin or fine scales. Visual tracking was difficult due to its exceptional camouflage.
- The predator appears to have three toes, two for locomotion, and a third held up above the ground ¨C this is why their footprints only show two toes.
- Very surprisingly the predator has six limbs; two legs, two arms, and two wings, though they appear to be too small to achieve flight.
- Another surprising discovery is how intelligent this predator seems to be, it examined and prodded at the trapper¡¯s cage until it accidentally found the opening flap, whereupon it quickly extracted and devoured the chicken.
In short, the accidental ¡®puzzle¡¯ posed by the trap was solved in less than 10 seconds.
I will refer to these predators as Raptors, given their similarities. I will give them a more suitable name once I have learned more about their species, it would be unfortunate to name them something like ¡°Great Raptor¡± only to find out they are the smallest variety on the island.
It may be only a coincidence, but with my sighting of several six-limbed birds I think it is likely that on this island, six-limbed creatures are common for reasons yet unknown to me.
The only reason why we humans ¨C along with other more familiar creatures ¨C fall under the classification of tetrapods is that we are all descended from a common ancestor who had four limbs. A rare few have six limbs, and are aptly referred to as ¡®hexapeds¡¯ ¨C not to be confused with the ¡®hexapod¡¯ subphylum, which includes insects and crustaceans.
What I don¡¯t understand is why do there seem to be so many hexapedal creatures on this island, and why aren¡¯t there more on the mainland?
On the subject of terminology, I believe I have decided on a name for this island. As its creatures are so different from those we know, I will refer to it as Alternis. Should any future-readers have a problem with that name, just be glad I don¡¯t name everything I discover after myself.
Among personal matters, I seem to have developed a slight fever. I¡¯ve taken a dose of antibiotics just in case, hopefully that will stop the illness before it becomes a problem.
Speaking of problems, I have made a difficult decision; I¡¯m going to give my crew a burial at sea. I¡¯m sorry I regret that I am unable to give them a proper burial on land, but that is beyond my ability.
I will do it tomorrow.
Chapter 5, Day 24: And
Pryce woke up, relieved that he no longer felt feverish. He was still lethargic, however, and it took a great amount of willpower to force himself to get up and do some of the endless amount of work around here.
When he was done with his daily chore of tending to the livestock he made preparations to go south and to inspect the river. It was only a few hundred meters away, but he inspected his equipment to make sure it was in proper working order.
He tried to imagine how this could go wrong, and his primary concerns were the raptors, the flying creature, and any other unknown forms of wildlife around here. He briefly considered the possibility of an ambush predator hiding in the sands, but the beach was far too barren to sustain any stationary predators like that. He hoped.
Pryce slowly and cautiously stepped out onto the beach at noon, when the shadows would be smallest. Now that he knew of their existence he half-expected to see the creatures hidden all over the place. It was odd how knowing the existence of a danger could change one¡¯s perception so drastically. The beach that seemed so serene and peaceful now seemed like a meager barrier between him and the dangers. Predators usually had their own territories, if that held true then they (along with the flying predator) should be the only animals he would have to worry about.
His rifle was slung so he could readily bring it up to a firing position, while in his left hand Pryce waved a stick in front of him as he walked along the beach, feeling like a blind man. Even if large predators didn¡¯t exist, he might stumble across some venomous ambush predator. Hopefully the stick would agitate it and spare him some pain, if not an ignoble death.
Pryce never spent much time in the wilderness, so this environment was quite uncomfortable for him. He tried to recall whatever scraps of knowledge he overheard over the years, though most of that didn¡¯t really apply on a beach.
The birds crying out in the forest reminded him of one piece of advice; listen to the wildlife. Animals usually had much better senses than humans, especially one that worked as a labcoat for most of his life. If the birds stopped chirping, that may be an indicator of a predator in the vicinity.
Pryce thought back to yesterday, trying to recall if the birds had stopped making noises when the raptor was near. He was quite certain it was silent, but perhaps he had only ignored them while he focused on the Raptor.
He was so focused on keeping an eye on the skies and trees that he tripped over something on the beach. He stumbled but didn¡¯t fall, and as he straightened himself up he realized there was something in the sand; tracks.
Very, very large tracks, he realized with dismay. Possibly a meter long when they were fresh, but there was no detail in them now.
Damn, if only he''d seen these when they were fresh...he inspected the area and found the tracks beginning and ending on the beach. One set in particular was significantly larger than the others.
Pryce had a feeling he knew what made these tracks; the same creature who took the pigs. Naturally something that could fly with such a heavy load would be huge, but seeing the traces on the beach made it so much more tangible. If he were attacked, could a 12 mm bullet even work on such a creature?
He could only hope that it would.
Pryce paused as a thought occurred to him. Why did the creature land on the beach here? There was no food as far as he could tell, no blood from a kill, the only thing around was the dig site...was...was it inspecting his work?
He shook his head, that line of thought had extreme implications. He would need more proof before really giving it much credence, but he couldn¡¯t stop contemplating the fantastical possibility of intelligent life here on the island.
He sighed as he rubbed his temple, so many things to worry about, so many potential risks and dangers. Deciding to ignore them for now, he walked the last hundred meters to stand before the river.
He had considered cremation, but it had the same problems as with burial ¨C it took resources he did not have. He wasn¡¯t sure if wood fire could burn bone to ash, even if he could collect enough of it to cremate the 32 bodies left on the ship.
Pryce opened his eyes to look at the river; at least it was beautiful. The river was about 50 meters across and flowed quite fast, which would be good for carrying the bodies far out into the ocean.
It had only taken him 6 minutes to arrive at the river while walking slowly, so if he moved half as fast with two bodies, that would be 12 minutes there, 6 minutes back, 18 minutes per body. 32 bodies meant 16 trips lasting 18 minutes each, which was a little under 5 hours of work. Doable.
He''d like to bury them one after the other, but that wasn''t possible without leaving the bodies at the river exposed to scavengers. The exercise reminded him of that chicken-fox-grain puzzle, Pryce thought, except it was a lot more macabre with all the bodies being ¡®chickens¡¯ and the predators being ¡®foxes¡¯.
A few moments later, he came up with a solution...
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Pryce laid two bodies shrouded in cloth on a larger piece of spare sailcloth, and pulled. The cloth slid across the fine sand without too much resistance.
Good, this part of the plan was working.
He''d wrapped the bodies in bundles of cloth, and pulled them together one pair at a time. He dragged the bodies along the beach, straining the muscles that were only partly recovered.
When he trudged about 25 meters he walked back to the rest of the bodies, dragging the second pair until it laid alongside the first.
He repeated this process until all the bodies moved 25 meters, then checked the chronometer. 20 minutes. He would slow down as he exhausted himself, so if he assumed it would take an average of 30 minutes, that meant a better estimate was 6 hours, giving him about 2 hours of leeway before sundown.
It might seem overly analytical to estimate the time it would take for him to complete this task, but he needed to get all of this done with enough time to say his farewells. He wouldn¡¯t chance having to leave the bodies of his crew out at night for the raptors to feast on.
Pryce knew he should be on guard for any raptors who decided now would be a good time to make a meal out of him, but it was very difficult to maintain that attitude while dragging bodies across the beach for several hours.
He had evidently slowed down even more than he had expected, but he was able to finish in 7 hours, with no hide nor hair of any predators.
He knelt down and began unwrapping each crewman from their shrouds and folded the cloth into a neat pile. The corpses were in a visible state of decay, but were all still easily recognizable.
Then he pulled a book out from his coat pocket, cleared his throat, and began reading the funeral rites. It was awkward and stilted, his voice breaking every few sentences. He didn¡¯t believe in any particular religion himself, but he did it for those who would have wanted it read.
Pryce was a genial man, and had been on good terms with nearly all of the crew. As one of the two ship¡¯s physicians he had private conversations with all of them at one point or another.
¡°I should start by saying I am sorry,¡± he began, ¡°that I did not get to know some of you as much as I should have. Nonetheless I¡I will do my best.¡±
He started with Dr. Siebert, who was at the closest end of the row. Pryce closed his eyes for a few moments to organize his thoughts, then opened his mouth to begin.
But then he looked at Siebert¡¯s face, and the sound died in his throat.
Looking away from her blue face, he took a moment to blink away the wetness in his eyes, staring at the sand ¨C
He stared at the sand.
The beach naturally had bits and pieces of debris scattered over its surface; branches, leaves, seashells all laid about haphazardly¡but there was one large branch laying on the sand that just¡ended. As if there was something sand-colored in front of it. The late evening sun cast long shadows, and the foliage was thick enough that whatever was between him and the branch sat within the shade.
Pryce slowly knelt down and picked up the rifle, faintly relieved that he had kept it so close. He took aim at the center of the anomaly, and pulled the trigger.
An air-splitting crack, and the butt of the rifle kicked back into his shoulder as a deep throaty shriek assaulted his ears ¨C something white was suddenly there, thrashing and screeching with an explosion of sand. His shoulder ached, but not badly enough to stop him from ejecting the spent casing and chambering in a new one. Most of the training centered around using 9 mm rounds, and he never quite got used to the kick 12 mm rounds produced.
Reloading complete, Pryce hastily raised the rifle at the creature just as it pulled itself up and fired¨C a crack, and this time the creature dropped with a muffled thump upon the sand.
Pryce stared at the corpse, not because the creature was a raptor, but because it was changing colors. Various pigments bloomed and faded across the creature¡¯s skin as it twitched in its death throes. Soon the twitching stopped, and the skin faded to a ghostly white.
He stood for a few moments, breathing heavily as he waited for the creature to get back up.
It didn¡¯t.
Pryce gradually began to relax, enough to admonish himself for his carelessness. He had been lucky, again, but he should have been more vigilant, he should have known to expect things no one had ever seen before.
There was no way for him to know if there were more raptors in the forest, the crack of gunfire should have scared them off, but he couldn¡¯t take that chance. The sun was only getting lower, and then the raptors would be impossible to see in the dark.
Pryce glanced at his fallen comrades and grimaced.
¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡±
[JOURNAL ENTRY]
Day 24: The Horizon is located approximately 300 meters north of a river, which I have named Eulogy.
I am frustrated that my attempt of a funeral was interrupted. They all deserved so much better. It feels like everything I¡¯ve done here has resulted in abysmal failure.
It was only luck that led to me noticing the oddity that was the camouflaged raptor; it appeared as if it perfectly mimicked the color and pattern of sand on the beach. Yesterday I had assumed that it was excellent but merely ¡®static¡¯ camouflage, but now I know it is something I will term ¡®active¡¯ camouflage. I only noticed it because the camouflaged raptor was blocking a branch and some shadows behind it from view, resulting in a noticeable inconsistency.
The scientist in me is amazed at this incredible adaptation, while the more practical side of me is dreading how to deal with these creatures. When I witnessed its death throes, I saw not only that the skin can change into any number of colors, but even the loose skin wrinkled and smoothed out in random bursts. I¡¯m certain that this creature can even mimic texture to some degree, or at least the appearance of it.
At the very least, I now have a specimen to study in detail.
In the end, I was forced to bury my crewmates in Eulogy River without ceremony, as there was not much sunlight left, and the sounds of gunfire may have attracted more predators. I have come to realize how powerless I am by my lonesome. First, I could not offer them a proper burial on land, and now I could not even give them a burial at sea. I hope they will forgive me.
This expedition was meant to be carried out by many people of many skills, and¡I am only one man.
I cannot take their place, but I will try my best until I die.
It is what they would have did.
Chapter 6, Day 25: Switch
Pryce woke up and groaned.
He was becoming accustomed to being constantly sore, which was not a good sign. At least he could really give himself time to recover now that there were no pressing issues to attend to. This thought kept him in bed for another hour before he decided to finally get up.
He spent another hour feeding and cleaning the livestock, at least they seemed to be doing well. It was a shame he couldn¡¯t let them out to graze in the forest, at least not without losing them to the raptors that could turn nearly invisible.
He still didn¡¯t have a solution for that yet.
After finishing his chores, it was time to examine his first specimen. He would¡¯ve liked to dissect the raptor somewhere with better lighting than the cargo hold with its small windows, but it was bright enough, and he didn¡¯t want to spend any more time outside than he had to.
He also couldn¡¯t bring it to the laboratory because the raptor was simply too big and heavy. Pryce had already slit its throat to reduce the weight and so that it wouldn¡¯t bleed all over the floor of the cargo hold. Despite this measure it had still taken him half an hour of intense exertion just to drag it back to the ship. The thing was definitely more difficult to move than two people, so it was heavier than 120 kilograms at least.
The first thing he did was take detailed notes, recording the length of every important limb and digit of the specimen;
- Subject is bipedal, possessing two short arms held close to the lower torso, while on the upper torso sits a pair of bat-like membranous wings.
- Standing height: ~1.5 meters.
- Length: ~4 meters from nose to tail-tip
- Wingspan: ~3 meters
- Mass: ___
- Feet: 25 cm in length, 14 cm in width.
- ¡
On and on the list went, until Pryce measured everything he could think of measuring.
Wingspan was difficult to measure with rigor mortis making its muscles stiff, but Pryce estimated it to be about 3 meters. They didn¡¯t seem quite big enough to be used for true flight, so he assumed it was for other purposes like gliding, maybe they even aided in running somehow.
Mass was trickier given the sheer bulk of the creature, the mechanical scale was too small to hold all of it at once, so Pryce set up the hanging scale. He spent half an hour tying up the raptor so he could hook it up properly, which involved a few knots he learned during training. Then he attached a snatch block, which was basically a collection of pulleys with a mechanical advantage of 8 to the hanging scale.
He took a step back and pulled, the raptor coming up easily. Thanks to the magic of pulleys, the raptor was 8 times easier to pull up than it would have been without the machine, though each tug only resulted in it moving up an eighth of the distance he was pulling.
In a few minutes he had the scale¡¯s reading: 150.3 kilograms. Assuming 6% of mass was in the drained blood, the raptor should have been around 160 kilograms when it was alive.
Setting down the raptor, he untied the ropes and realized he should take a photo before dissecting it. He decided to move the carcass out onto the beach, as there was not enough light in the cargo hold for a proper photo.
He let the hatch clunk its way to the down position again, diligently training a rifle at what he hoped was just sand. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, so he knelt as far down as he could go and looked along the ground.
This was one method he had devised to see the predators; while their camouflage was amazing, it still had limits. If the entirety of the skin was sand-colored, then it would stand out against any other background. The creature was too large to lie flat, so it should be easy to see any camouflaged raptors this way. The downside was that if a raptor was close enough for him to see, it would probably be close enough to kill him before he could get a shot off.
Another deterrent was to simply plant many sticks all over the beach, which would make it impossible for them to blend in. The downside for that was that he would need a lot of long branches for it to be effective, and branches were found in the forest¡yeah, that plan needed some improvement.
A thud snapped Pryce out of his thoughts, the hatch had finished lowering itself.
Then a second thud on the port side of the ship, beyond the walls.
Pryce froze. His heartbeat quickened as he stared at the wall, then at the open hatch. He raised his rifle and silently inched his way to the exit.
But then the faces of his dead crewmates came to his mind, and he paused in hesitation.
Don¡¯t be stupid, don¡¯t be reckless, and think.
What am I doing?
Investigating a noise caused by an animal.
What do I have to lose?
My life.
What do I have to gain?
¡
He quickly but quietly closed the door shut. The interior door was solidly built, but not anywhere near as durable as the outer door, which took minutes to crank up and down.
It would have to do.
He waited. And waited. No noises.
As silently as he could, he scrambled up to the deck of the ship.
Before he stepped out onto the deck, he took off his shoes and made sure to calm his breathing to walk as silently as possible. He didn¡¯t want to scare off whatever was on the beach now that he was in an advantageous position.
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He walked heel-toe to the starboard side of the ship, then aimed the rifle where he estimated the thud had come from.
And there it was, a raptor standing right next to the hull, staring straight at him. So much for the element of surprise. It was significantly bigger than the one he had killed earlier, and come to think of it, the specimen had feet that were smaller than the raptor footprints he had found on day 21. Was that one a juvenile or a young adult? That would explain its daring behavior.
But something was wrong ¨C the predator was a mottled brown and green, very visible against the sandy background. It wasn¡¯t bothering to blend into the beach at all, why?
It might be a different species incapable of camouflage, but it looked identical in terms of conformity.
Now that he thought about it, the thud Pryce heard almost sounded¡deliberate, intentional. Predators usually aren¡¯t clumsy enough to make such a loud noise when hunting. It was almost like it was meant to lure him out, almost as if¡the raptor wanted to be seen.
If this one was the bait, then where was the trap?
Pryce looked underneath the brow of the ship and noticed an unusually large lump of sand just out of line of sight from the exit hatch. Under normal circumstances he might have overlooked them, but he had long since learned to embrace paranoia in his brief stay on this island. Piles like that didn¡¯t just form naturally, but it also wasn¡¯t big enough to be a hidden raptor. That left one possibility¡
Pryce saw he had left the binoculars on a stool from when he spent a day watching for wildlife. Picking it up, he examined the strange sand lump, and after a few moments he found it.
The clever bastard had buried most of its body in the sand, with only its camouflaged head out on the surface. This made the raptor seem much smaller than it actually was, and it had almost tricked him.
Pryce walked as silently as he could to the north side of the ship, at this point he couldn¡¯t put anything past these creatures. Then leaned over the bulwark to point the rifle at¡nothing? He stared, trying to determine if there was in fact anything there at all. Several more moments of inspection later and he was fairly certain there was nothing near the ship on that side.
Why had they come to stake him out now? Why not earlier? The only thing he did recently was ¨C ah, he killed one of their own. A smaller one, perhaps their offspring?
Pryce felt a little unease at that thought, he didn¡¯t know how intelligent these creatures were, what if they were sapient? They were certainly very intelligent at least. He realized he had never actually been attacked before he struck first and killed one of their own.
He shook his head; he couldn¡¯t afford sympathy now. No predator sneaks up on something without malicious intent. If they had peaceful intentions, they would have tried to communicate. Unless the raptor was just hiding¡?
He cast away his doubt, either way he had a problem to solve. The raptors were hostile now, nothing he could do about that, so the real question he should be asking was which was he going to shoot first?
This wasn¡¯t a strategy the raptors just came up with, they definitely had practice. The one in the sand could probably spring out in a flash, but not as fast as the one acting as bait could start running.
Why hadn¡¯t they fled yet? Probably because they didn¡¯t know he could kill them from a distance. Given how intelligent they were, he¡¯d have to kill them both at once lest a survivor try to plan around that.
He aimed at the ¡®bait¡¯ raptor, and fired.
It was a height of 10 meters from the beach to the deck of the ship; he could hardly miss from such a distance. The raptor jerked but made no noise, and at the same time the sand before the brow of the ship exploded with activity. Pryce recovered from the recoil, then pivoting he aimed and fired at the fleeing raptor.
A puff of sand in front of the raptor shot into the air ¨C a miss. His shoulder already smarted from the first round, so it took him more time to line up his third shot. By the time he was ready the raptor had reached the treeline ¨C either it was unharmed or running on adrenaline.
He fired one last time, and a second crack immediately followed his third shot as a tree trunk exploded. There was no shriek of pain, at least none that he heard; his ears still rang from the three shots he fired in rapid succession. Pryce collapsed onto the deck of the ship, rubbing his aching shoulder as he felt the adrenaline leaving his system.
He took a few shaky breaths, and then slammed his fist into the deck.
He was getting really tired of constantly looking over his shoulder, but he kept an eye out as he examined the beach.
The freshly reloaded rifle slung over his shoulder, and he inspected where the buried predator had hidden. There was a faint trail of blood leading into the forest, so he had grazed it with his first shot, though doubted the injury was fatal. Pryce huffed, adding a vengeful and nearly invisible predator to the list of things he needed to watch out for.
Next, he examined and took measurements from the raptor he had killed, it was definitely bigger than the first one ¨C 1.8 meters tall, 5 meters long, and much heavier than the initial specimen.
It would take some thinking and strategically placed pulleys to measure the mass of this one. Perhaps he would rig up something along the bulwark of the ship. At least the raptor had been kind enough to place itself in an ideal position, Pryce thought spitefully as he glared at the predator.
This was turning into a real problem, first there was one, then two, how many would come next?
If he was lucky, the raptors only lived in small families. If not, then he might have a major problem to deal with soon. He¡¯d have to put the dissections on hold for now; there was no time for that.
It was time to raptor-proof the beach.
[JOURNAL ENTRY]
Day 25
More bad news today, it seems killing the raptor yesterday has attracted two others. My best guess is these are relatives or parents, as the second specimen is significantly larger than the first (measurements listed in the post-script)
I am a little shaken to think that if I had gone out to inspect the noise today, I would currently be dead.
Given what I¡¯ve seen today, I can only conclude that these creatures are incredibly intelligent, capable of setting up elaborate traps for their prey. I cannot underestimate them any longer.
I checked the trail of blood, which was little more than a few droplets. I expect more will be back soon, perhaps tomorrow.
In anticipation of their attack, I have hammered steel rebar rods into the beach and stitched various pieces of colorful clothing together. Strewn about the beach like oversized flags, they should make it much harder for a raptor to sneak up on me.
I will spend tomorrow perched on the deck of the ship to keep a lookout where they cannot reach me. If I must confront them, I will do it after I have recovered.
Besides, I have some ideas to lure them closer without risking my life. I¡¯ll be damned if I¡¯m outsmarted by a (not actual) dinosaur.
P.S.
Measurements
Raptor Specimen #1:
- Standing height: ~1.5 meters.
- Length: ~4 meters from nose to tail-tip
- Wingspan: ~3 meters
- Mass: 150.3 kg (drained of blood, est. 160 kg alive)
- Feet: 25 cm in length, 14 cm in width.
- ¡
Raptor Specimen #2:
- Standing height: ~1.8 meters.
- Length: ~5.6 meters from nose to tail-tip
- Wingspan: ~3.3 meters
- Mass: 410.5 kg (drained of blood, est. 440 kg alive)
- Feet: 30 cm in length, 15 cm in width.
- ¡
Chapter 7, Day 26 – 27: First Contact
After finishing his daily routine, Pryce grabbed a pair of wire cutters and sacrificed some length of chicken coop to create rudimentary barbed wire. He wasn¡¯t expecting this to stop the raptors at all, but it might give them some pause as well as forcing them to step over the wires instead of creeping over the sand.
It took him until noon to wire up the rebar poles he¡¯d hammered into the ground yesterday. If he connected all the poles to each other one panicking raptor might pull out all his poles in one fell swoop, so he simply wrapped wires in horizontal lines running parallel to the shore.
If worse came to worst, at least he could hold out inside the ship for a long time. Pryce double checked the water stores and confirmed he had about 9,000 of the initial 12,000 liters of water left. At a rate of 2 liters per day, the water would last him over a decade, so that was basically a non-issue.
Food was a bit more of an issue, but potatoes, onions, and beef jerky had a shelf life in the months while dried rice, beans, and canned goods could last years. The raptors were a possible source of meat, though the ones he killed were too old by now. Something to think about later.
Having prepared the battlefield to the best of his ability, Pryce made himself comfortable on the deck of the ship. If all went well, today would be a day of rest and recuperation. If not¡he¡¯d think about it when it happened.
He waited, and waited, and¡quickly got bored.
Pryce grunted, pushing himself up to get something more done before nightfall.
[JOURNAL ENTRY]
Day 26,
Fortunately, today was an uneventful day. Nothing of note happened, save for the progress I made towards fortifying my position.
I cut up some of the chicken coops to make barbed wire, which I wrapped around the poles I set up yesterday.
As for my perch on the deck of the ship, I¡¯ve left three new rifles on the deck of the ship so that I won¡¯t need to reload in the unfortunate event I use more than six bullets. I¡¯ve also stitched together a patchwork mask that covers my entire face with a slit down the middle, that way I can use the scope of the rifle to see. Hopefully this mask will keep the raptors from recognizing my face as something alive. It might not work at all, but a second of hesitation could mean the difference between life and death.
Next time they won¡¯t find me so unprepared.
SHRIEEEEK
Pryce started awake upon hearing a blood curdling screech. He sat still and strained his ears over the sound of his thundering heartbeat for a moment.
Another ululating cry, though it was quieter this time. That sounded like a cry of pain. Had a raptor stumbled into his barbed wire trap?
Pryce waited.
One minute.
Two minutes.
At the third minute mark he sat up, putting on his coat and trusty ¨C and fully loaded ¨C rifle to go and investigate. He lit a lantern and shuffled down the hallway, climbing up the stairs and grasped the cold metal handle leading out onto the deck.
He turned the handle with a clunk, before remembering he was supposed to be cautious.
Double checking his rifle, he knew that the moon was relatively full, so he should have some visibility, and the deck of the ship was safe so long as he wasn¡¯t attacked by anything that could fly.
¡actually, he knew there was at least one gargantuan flying creature, so that was a distinct possibility.
Having thought out a plan, Pryce cracked the door open. Luckily the moonlight was bright enough that he could see quite well. When nothing happened, he opened it further and stepped out¡to see nothing. He looked around at the skies until he was certain he was safe, then he walked alongside the bulwark just in case, ready to duck behind it if he heard so much as a faint flap of wings.
He shuffled to the nose of the ship, where he quickly saw that some of the bars were knocked over. A closer inspection with the binoculars showed a large disturbance in the sand, evidently a raptor had an encounter with barbed wire.
Pryce grinned, glad that one of his plans finally worked.
Despite this success, he felt some sense of unease, why did the Raptor come at night? Their camouflage was much more useful in the daytime, and both of his encounters took place during the day, so they had to be diurnal, right?
Pryce held his fist against his chin in thought, he had a feeling the raptors were trying something, but what could they possibly do?
He was torn between going back to sleep and staying up to keep watch. The problem was he would need to sleep sometime. If he went without sleep too long, he might find himself exhausted when the raptors did attack. Pryce sighed, hopelessly wishing there was at least one other person to help with keeping watch¡
In the end, he decided on returning to his bedroom for his much-needed sleep.
Pryce didn¡¯t get any sleep before dawn broke. Mostly because his mind was occupied trying to predict what the raptors could possibly be planning instead of resting.
Giving up on a good night¡¯s sleep, Pryce decided to do his daily chore of taking care of the livestock first.
Thud
Pryce jumped at the loud thud that echoed through the hull. He frowned as he collected his rifle and headed to the cargo hold. It sounded very similar to the first trick the raptors pulled, but he wanted to make sure he wasn¡¯t hearing things.
Sitting in the cargo hold, he saw the crate full of machetes and after a moment¡¯s hesitation, buckled one onto his belt. It couldn¡¯t hurt.
And sure enough, several minutes later he heard another thud, the same tone as the one he heard yesterday.
He frowned, why would they try a tactic that had already failed? Perhaps he gave their intelligence too much credit.
Climbing up the stairs, he opened the door to the deck, walking past the wheelhouse as he creeped towards the nose of the ship¡.
Until a raptor flew above the bulwark, flapping its wings as it arched through the air and landed with a thud that Pryce felt through the deck.
¡°Shit!¡± He swore, drew his rifle, aimed, and fired ¨C just as the nimble creature dashed to the side, its skin bloomed into black as the bullet embedded itself deep into the steel plates behind it.
Pryce''s heart hammered as he forced himself to calm. Fortunately, the bulwark was red, so the raptor camouflaging black didn¡¯t help it avoid the second bullet that sent the creature sprawling, its skin flickering white as it died.
Another raptor landed on deck as he dispatched the first one, and by the time he took aim it had ducked behind the foremast ¨C it wasn¡¯t nearly small enough to hide behind it, but Pryce¡¯s hesitation bought it enough time to dash behind the much thicker smokestack.
Pryce backed up, wary of being caught in a pincer attack as a third raptor landed on deck, which he immediately killed with a round to the torso.
Then he quickly pivoted towards a skittering of talons ¨C the second raptor was dashing at him, as if waiting for the moment after he fired. Pryce chambered in a new round just as the raptor leapt towards him feet-first, its black talons gleaming in the sunlight.
He fired point-blank into its torso, its skin blooming white ¨C but inertia kept it going. The second raptor¡¯s heavy body clipped Pryce as he ducked, sending him sprawling across the deck.
He pushed himself up to a kneeling position to see a fourth raptor landing and wasted no time in charging him before he got back up.
He chambered another round and fired¡missing the raptor entirely. He grunted in frustration as he reloaded, took aim, and fired, knowing there was no time for another.
The raptor flared white before it hit the floor, rolling across the deck like a puppet with its string¡¯s cut.
Pryce groaned as he stood, then grasped his left shoulder in pain. He examined the wounded area, and saw that red was slowly seeping out of the gash. The second raptor must¡¯ve clipped him with its talons when it sent him sprawling.
He panted as he took a few moments to recover. He was lucky there were only four raptors, if there had been any more ¨C
The fourth raptor slowly stood back up; a deep and throaty pained hiss sliced through the air as it did so.
Well shit.
His shoulder screamed in protest, but he gritted his teeth and powered through, reloaded the rifle one more time, took aim, and fired ¨C only for nothing to happen.
He¡¯d used six bullets. Desperately he patted his empty pockets, there were no magazines on his person, the only ones on deck were at the nose of the ship.
Pryce looked up with dread to see the last raptor taking a step forward, sharply hissing as it put pressure on its right leg, though that didn¡¯t stop it from putting one foot in front of the other to advance upon Pryce. He saw that the raptor¡¯s thigh was bleeding, but it was neither fatal nor debilitating enough to keep the beast down.
But the raptor didn¡¯t know he couldn¡¯t shoot anymore, it didn¡¯t even know how he killed the others. Perhaps a bluff would be worth a try?
¡°Get out of here!¡± Pryce roared, or at least tried to. He had never yelled much in his life, and had spoken very little in the past month. His voice cracked at the very start, but at least the raptor seemed to pause.
Then it staggered towards him, advancing step by step and making pained, throaty vocalizations as it did so. Well, he didn¡¯t really expect the bluff to work.
It was moving slowly enough that he could see the animosity in its baleful yellow eyes, incentivizing him to quickly run through possible options. What could he do with an empty rifle and a machete¡?
Decision made, Pryce swung the rifle around and flung it at the Raptor as hard as he could. It flew in an arc, end over end. The raptor tried to dodge, but stumbled, and the rifle bounced ineffectually off its back.
No matter, he had bought a second or two as he walked backwards, drawing his machete. The sunlight glinting off the wide, half meter long blade. He hoped it would be able to cleave through flesh as it was designed to do.
A gust of wind, and a thud sounded behind him. A part of his mind distantly told him it must be the open door leading to belowdecks banging against the wall.
¡Wait, why didn¡¯t he just run away?
Pryce swore as he chucked the machete at the raptor, not bothering to stay and watch before dashing towards the open door. He¡¯d been so focused on fighting he completely forgot that retreat was an option.
He heard the sound of the machete clattering against the deck, either it missed, or he hit the raptor with the handle. Even when injured, the raptor was still faster than him. It accelerated quickly despite its wounds, halving the distance between them as Pryce neared the door, he reached for the open doorknob to ¨C
An ear splitting roar caused him to stumble as he clapped his hands over his ears in pain. Pryce couldn¡¯t help but turn towards the direction of the alien sound even as he kept running.
First his eyes registered that the raptor had screeched to a halt and was flattening itself against the deck, and before he could comprehend the scene before him a massive creature leapt over the bulwark with a noise that sounded like the dull crack of a sail catching on a sudden gust of wind.
Another thunderous flap, and the winged creature descended upon the cowering raptor with the sound of bones wetly snapping.
It was a dragon.
¡No, it felt almost wrong to call this a dragon, the mythical beast of humanity¡¯s imagination failed to compare to the creature before him. The glossy scaled hide rippled with muscles, its scaled and scarred hide was a dark blue like an ocean storm, while the great wings were a shade lighter in color. Its serrated talons were a glossy black in contrast to the gleaming ebony horns and spines that lined its jaw, and its teeth¡were hidden by the corpse of the raptor in its maw.
Thud.
The corpse of the raptor fell onto the deck, its formerly menacing yellow eyes dull and lifeless.
Pryce stared at the raptor, then up at the dragon, dumbstruck. Why wasn¡¯t it attacking?
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The dragon stared at him for a few moments that stretched on for an eternity before extending its maw towards Pryce.
Part of him was terrified, but a larger part of him was simply amazed by the creature before him. Pryce stared into its massive red eyes that were nearly as wide as his palm, at the finely pebbled scales on the dragon¡¯s muzzle as it flicked its tongue at him ¨C it was so close Pryce could see tiny snake-like pits at the front of its muzzle.
Then the dragon pulled away, walking to the nose of the ship as its tail gently lashed the air. It stopped abruptly as its eyes caught on the shining blade of the machete, making what Pryce could only interpret as a delighted crooning noise¡albeit an extremely deep one.
It moved its head this way and that, apparently admiring the shine of the blade. The machete itself wasn¡¯t smooth like polished steel, but it was reflective enough that it must have been something the creature had never seen before in the wilderness. After a few moments of prodding the dragon shifted its attention to his discarded rifle, flicking its tongue out at it before nudging both rifle and machete along towards the nose of the ship. It quickly reached its destination ¨C Pryce estimated it was twelve or fourteen meters in length from nose to tail, so it covered such a small distance in only a few paces. Upon reaching the nose of the ship, it noticed the other rifles, and set the empty one on the ground next to them.
The dragon then stared back at him; its gaze seemed¡expectant.
Pryce only stared, still uncomprehending as he was torn between curiosity and caution. The way the creature moved and acted belied intelligence in every way. He wasn¡¯t sure if he would have closed the door in time, but the dragon had most likely saved his life, and it seemed amicable enough. Perhaps it was the residual adrenaline in his system making him reckless, but if the dragon didn¡¯t kill him earlier then it probably wouldn¡¯t do so now.
Right?
He took a deep breath and followed the dragon, walking at a quick pace so that he didn¡¯t test the creature¡¯s patience.
He cautiously approached the dragon; its size alone was intimidating, yet alone the wickedly gleaming black talons ¨C Pryce paused at that. The talons weren¡¯t completely black but seemed to have a slight tint of red at the base. He filed away the oddity to think about later.
The dragon sat much like an oversized cat would, its tail curling around its four limbs. It stared at Pryce staring at it, then looked at the beach. Now that Pryce was closer, he could notice various scars all over the creature¡¯s hide. Most were faint lines, but some were deeper than others. One particularly notable scar was the matching set of raking lines on its shoulders ¨C almost resembling bars of rank.
Pryce followed its line of sight, and the first thing that caught his attention was the dead tree leaning against the side of the ship that was definitely not there before. He examined the tree more closely, and saw its trunk was relatively narrow while its branches looked to be gnawed or snapped off at consistent lengths, almost as if it were a¡
¡°Ladder,¡± Pryce breathed in astonishment. The raptors had used a ladder to climb up eight or nine meters and jumped up the rest of the distance.
The dragon cocked its head, then made an odd noise. Its eyes narrowed as it made another noise, causing Pryce to inch away and watch it warily.
¡°¡Gll¡L¡Lah¡Dher¡Lah-Dher,¡± it said, then held its head higher, looking¡pleased?
Pryce¡¯s jaw dropped. Did¡did it just parrot his words? It sounded as if someone with an inhumanly deep voice were talking through a long tube. The word was heavily accented ¨C if it could be called that ¨C but still recognizable. No, not ¡®it¡¯, the creature was obviously far too intelligent for that. He didn¡¯t know the sex of the dragon, so for now¡¡®they¡¯ were still staring directly at Pryce.
He supposed it was rude of him to not introduce himself.
Heart hammering in excitement, Pryce tapped his fingers on his chest, saying his name while doing his best to keep his voice level.
The dragon blinked, then they brought up its own taloned hands to mimic his gesture. ¡°Hhh¡Fhh¡Khh¡Prr¡¡± The dragon seemed to have some difficulty with the ¡®p¡¯ sound, but was soon able to sound out a passable ¡°Prai-sss.¡±
Okay, that was half a success. Did they not have names, or did they simply misunderstand the chest tapping as a greeting? Trying again, Pryce tapped his chest with an index finger and repeated his name before pointing at the dragon.
The dragon¡¯s eyes seemed to widen a little, then they tapped a claw on their own chest and¡made a throaty warbling noise ending with a click. It wasn¡¯t really a warble, as it came from a creature the size of a bus. It was naturally far deeper and richer than anything a bird could make, but it was the most accurate word Pryce could think of¡or perhaps a croon would be better? The noise sounded as though it came from deep in the throat, so the way dragons produced sound was probably differently from humans. And that clicking noise sounded strangely like¡an electric spark? Pryce had no idea if that was what it was, and he added that thought to the ever-growing pile of things to think about later. Now that Pryce considered the matter, it was amazing that the dragon could replicate human speech at all. The dragon¡¯s own speech was nothing he could ever attempt to replicate to any degree of success, let alone with the English alphabet.
But the dragon was looking at him expectantly, so he tried using his throat to produce the deepest bass he could.
¡°Huroumh-click,¡± he said, the click emulated with a click of his tongue.
The dragon drew their head back, spines flattening as they stared at him in such a doubtful way that Pryce could only awkwardly glance away. What was he going to call the dragon if he couldn¡¯t even pronounce his name? He was saved from having to respond by the dragon pointing at the beach; apparently his attempt at their name was so hopeless that they decided to move onto another subject.
Slightly wounded, Pryce followed the path of the gesture and widened his eyes as he saw the body of another raptor on the sand. He looked up in awe at the eyes towering above him as he realized the dragon had saved him twice.
The dragon made no noise but extended a foreclaw, pushing the machete to Pryce¡¯s feet with a rattle, then they pointed at the raptor on the beach, and finally pulled the machete over to their side of the ship.
Pryce only stared in bemusement until he chuckled at the realization that the dragon wanted the machete as payment. He stepped closer to the dragon to pick up the machete, intending to demonstrate the dangerous tool that it was. He wouldn¡¯t want the dragon cutting itself on the blade, but despite his intentions the dragon gave a deep warning grumble as he approached.
Pryce stopped, and so did the grumbling.
Pryce moved forward, and the grumbling turned into a growl.
Sighing, Pryce unbuckled the machete sheath and held it up to the dragon for their perusal, then inched towards the machete again. The dragon growled even louder than before, this time baring their fangs.
Scared and a little exasperated, Pryce held up a finger and said, ¡°wait,¡± before going down the stairs to retrieve another machete while wondering if this a good idea or pure foolishness.
A minute later he was back with a new machete in its sheath, and the dragon looked at him from the same spot as before. Holding it up so it was easily visible, Pryce revealed the shiny blade inside the leather sheath.
The dragon made a rumbling noise, their pupils widening while their spines flared at the sight of a second shiny object.
Pryce decided to quickly move onto the demonstration before the dragon decided they wanted this shiny new thing as well. Walking up to the nearest raptor corpse, he swung the machete down as hard as he could on its neck, the blade cleaving through flesh and coming to a rest up against bone.
Pryce pointed at the machete resting near the dragon¡¯s talons and said, ¡°Dangerous.¡±
The dragon, who was staring intensely at him, shifted their gaze to the machete, then the sheath, and the idea seemed to click. Pryce smiled as the dragon tried to sheath the weapon, but their talons were evidently ill-suited to picking up things. He was about to reach out to help while hoping the dragon wouldn¡¯t growl at him again, but then the dragon pinched the machete between two talons ¨C humorously reminding Pryce of someone using chopsticks ¨C and dropped the blade into the sheath with a shunk while the dragon rumbled at his success. Perhaps those talons were more dexterous than he expected.
¡°Good,¡± Pryce said, giving the dragon a thumbs up.
The dragon glanced away from the tool, pupils shifting as they examined the gesture. Bringing up one foreclaw and splaying their talons, they closed the hand into a fist while leaving the thumb out. The thumb seemed to lack range compared to a human¡¯s thumb, but at least the gesture was recognizable.
Pryce paused for a moment to marvel at the situation, causing him to realize that he was really communicating with a sapient, non-human species!
The dragon did not seem to share in his wonder, and instead picked up the rifle and handed it back to Pryce stock first, pinching it between two knuckles this time. Pryce raised an eyebrow in confusion but accepted the proffered weapon¡or at least tried to.
The dragon didn¡¯t let go of the rifle and began growling. Pryce stood frozen for a moment, confused at the contradictory actions. Then the dragon let go of the rifle and then pinched it between two talons, pushing it so that it aimed away from them while ceasing to growl.
Then they aimed the rifle back at themself and resumed growling before pushing it away again and stopping, only then did they finally let go of the rifle.
Pryce¡¯s eyebrows shot up in understanding.
The dragon was probably the creature who took the pigs and left tracks on the beach, so they have probably been watching him for some time now. That means they may have seen him kill a raptor before rescuing him¡if that was true, then that means they might have been waiting for him to leave his rifle behind. The dragon didn¡¯t have to know how the rifle worked, but they only had to realize it was useless based on the fact that he threw it away instead of shooting the last raptor again.
On top of all that, the dragon took advantage of the situation to use the useless rifle as a prop to warn him not to aim a rifle at him. It sounded almost too far-fetched, but Pryce glanced at the pile of rifles laid behind the dragon¡¯s haunches and couldn¡¯t help but feel that the creature was keeping him from picking another one up.
¡either that or the dragon was simply content to watch until he pulled out the shiny machete, but after grossly underestimating the intelligence of the raptors, Pryce decided that overestimation was probably more conducive to a long life.
Pryce nodded his understanding, then said, ¡°Understand,¡± while very pointedly pointing the rifle in the opposite direction of the dragon.
¡°Uhn¡her¡der..sss¡h¡t¡tah¡nd¡¡Un¡der¡stand¡¡± The dragon said, drawing their neck into more of an S-shape. Pryce thought they looked pleased, but it was difficult to tell when the creature had little to no facial expression save for eye movements. He¡¯d have to pay more attention to their body language in the future.
Then the dragon opened their mouth ¨C Pryce would be lying if he said that didn¡¯t cause him to panic a little ¨C then spat out a pig hoof onto the deck.
Well, that¡¯s one mystery solved, Pryce thought.
Pryce only stared at the hoof, then at the dragon. When he didn¡¯t seem to understand, the dragon pointed at the raptor that had been chasing him. Pryce blinked in realization, and was bemused at the fact that a dragon was apparently haggling with him. Pryce rolled his eyes and gave the dragon a thumbs up before he pointed at the beach and said, ¡°wait.¡±
The dragon blinked and leapt off the nose of the ship, flaring out their wings to land with a gentle whump onto the beach. The dragon sat down and looked at Pryce with their tail flicking back and forth as if to say ¡°Well? I¡¯m waiting.¡±
Pryce smiled, holding up an index finger again before reentering the ship. Hopefully the dragon would learn that meant ¡®wait a moment¡¯, but judging from his scant few interactions with them, that shouldn¡¯t be a problem.
It only took Pryce a few minutes to guide the pig out of the pen and towards the exit hatch. The poor thing seemed so excited to finally leave the confinement of the pen that he barely needed to guide it as it trotted down the hall and out onto the beach.
Only for the dragon to kill it with a clean blow that snapped its spine.
At least they didn¡¯t let it suffer, through whether that was out of pragmatism or kindness, Pryce wasn¡¯t sure. He decided to take advantage of the situation by teaching them another word.
¡°Pig,¡± he said, pointing at the body.
¡°Ph¡ihg?¡pig,¡± the dragon said, looking at the pig while licking their chops. They seemed to be getting better at making English noises¡or maybe it was just because the word was a single syllable.
Having had a few moments to think about the situation in the ship, Pryce pointed and said, ¡°Dragon.¡±
¡°Drah¡gahn?¡± they said, cocking their heads to the side while pointing at themselves.
¡°Dragon,¡± Pryce confirmed.
¡°Dragon,¡± the dragon said.
¡°Dragon take pig,¡± Pryce said, gesturing at the pig.
¡°Dragon tay¡take pig,¡± the dragon said, looking a little uncertain but picking up the animal in one taloned hand.
Pryce gave them a thumbs-up, and the dragon returned the gesture with their free hand before making something like a shooing motion at Pryce.
Pryce took an involuntary step back, though he didn¡¯t think the motion was meant to be hostile. It was still difficult to not feel fear when talons nearly the length of his forearm were waving about his face.
The dragon gathered themselves up, leg and thigh muscles rippling before they leapt up into the air, then began ascending with powerful flaps of their wings that sent sand flying everywhere.
By the time the artificial sandstorm had died Pryce¡¯s own shoes were buried under a few centimeters of the stuff. The maneuver seemed almost clumsy compared to the usual grace the creature exhibited, and Pryce wondered if taking off with the pig in their claws made things more difficult. Perhaps a running start led to a more graceful ascent?
Regardless, he stood and watched as the dragon flew away, disappearing over the canopy of trees.
So¡he just made first contact with another sapient species who happened to look almost exactly like legendary creatures. That¡was a bit too much to think about right now, so instead he turned to examine the dead raptor the dragon had killed on the beach and noted that it seemed bigger than the others. He also saw a long scab mark along its thigh ¨C a half healed graze from a bullet, this was definitely the one that got away from him.
Pryce wondered what it was doing hanging back at the beach, was it a leader? That made sense, though he wondered if it was a patriarch or matriarch, but if there was any sexual dimorphism in the species then it wasn¡¯t readily apparent.
Well, at least there was plenty of daylight left and lots of work to be done. He should remove the barbed wire first, a pissed off dragon was the last thing he wanted right now.
[JOURNAL ENTRY]
Day 27
The events that occurred today have been so exciting that I can scarcely wrap my mind around them, I feel almost as though I might wake up at any moment ¨C if not for my shoulder wound.
I wonder if this day will ever be celebrated as the first day humanity has ever made contact with another sapient species. That would be something to see.
I know people are prone to anthropomorphizing the actions of animals, but there is no way this creature is anything less than sapient. It is a pity that the dragon¡¯s name does not seem to be pronounceable by any human, their voices sound as though they are produced somewhere at the base of their very long throats.
Come to think of it, some parts of their name may be outside the human range of hearing¡there goes any hope of me learning to speak their language, but maybe I can still understand some of their words?
Given the fact that their name is unpronounceable to me, I¡¯m not sure how I should refer to them. Perhaps I should give them a name? But what if their name has meaning in their language? I think I will only refer to them as a ¡®dragon¡¯ for now. I have already taught them the word for it, though I¡¯m not sure if they think it is a personal name or the one for their species.
Some part of me wonders if the raptors are sapient ¨C creating and using tools to solve a problem like they did requires no small amount of planning and teamwork, and the ladder was too heavy to be carried by a single raptor. They had to be working together to transport it, and they were working together to attack me. I do wonder how they carried the ladder ¨C what a strange sight that would be.
Unfortunately, any chance of peace with the raptors is out the window ¨C at least with this group; they have shown no desire to communicate at all, unlike the dragon.
If today has taught me anything, it is that I need to be even more cautious than I have been already. Despite all the measures I have already taken, I seem to find myself in avoidable scenarios. My most egregious error today was deciding to attack the raptors, if I retreated to the doorway while providing myself with cover fire then I could have easily made it back inside the ship where the raptors could not reach me, at least not without entering the hallway where they¡¯d be unmissable targets¡Though now that I think about it, the raptors probably would have avoided the stairway after my first or second kills, and then I¡¯d be stuck inside the ship with no way of knowing when the raptors would have left.
Even still, I should have considered my options more thoroughly¡I have never experienced such a powerful fight or flight response, but at least I know which disposition I have now.
I¡¯ve recorded the measurements of Raptor Specimens 3-7 in a separate notebook as to keep this one relevant to personal thoughts, but I can distinctly categorize the raptors into two groups; one that is slightly smaller but with a proportionally larger wingspan, and another that is slightly larger with a proportionally smaller wingspan.
I have no observations to back this up, but in nature males are often the ones who must make colorful displays to attract mates. I suspect that if these raptors do the same, then larger wings would not only be beneficial to better flying/gliding prowess, but also more surface area to display their colors on. It is a pity I will likely never see such a display ¨C their ability to change the color of their hide is like nothing I¡¯ve ever seen.
Of course the difference could simply be due to some other currently unknown factor.
Despite how interesting they are, they completely pale in comparison to the dragon I saw today. I don¡¯t know why or how a mythological creature exists, but perhaps it is not as unlikely as it seems. Some creatures on this island clearly had a hexapedal ancestor, and if one lizard-like species specialized a pair of limbs for flight then the result would be quite close to a dragon.
Even still, the resemblance is quite uncanny¡and I¡¯ve only seen two large creatures on this island, I can¡¯t even begin to imagine what kind of animals I will see in the future.
Of course, there¡¯s nothing much for me to do on my own, I cannot just assume the raptors are no longer a threat ¨C in fact, I should be more wary of them than ever.
My current plan (as insane as it sounds) is to try to teach the dragon English, the information I could obtain from a native inhabitant of this island would be valuable beyond belief. The dragon seemed quite amiable, especially for a predator about 13 meters in length, hopefully they¡¯re interested in having some conversation.
If not, then I¡¯m sure I can catch its attention.
Chapter 8, Day 28: Research
Pryce woke up at dawn and was quickly reminded of the shoulder wound he sustained yesterday. It was thankfully fairly shallow, and after cleaning and stitching up the wound he was sure it would heal completely in a month or two. At least his shoulder was still usable, he just couldn¡¯t do anything too strenuous for some time. The fact that he¡¯d have to put in new ones if that happened was ample motivation to not push himself.
His stretches were far more limited now thanks to his injury, so he was forced to do his chores with stiff muscles this time. At least it wasn¡¯t too difficult to tend to a few animals with his dominant arm, if it had been his right shoulder that was wounded then things would¡¯ve been much more complicated.
Once Pryce was done with breakfast he entered the captain¡¯s quarters with a tool bag, then carefully undid the screws securing the full-length mirror to the wall. It wasn¡¯t too heavy, and Pryce could have carried it with confidence if not for his injury.
Giving up on the largest mirror for now, he decided to go after the second largest one; the communal mirror in the living quarters was half a body length in size. This one he could carry under one arm with some difficulty, and he walked slowly to make sure he didn¡¯t hit any walls or railings on the way to the exit hatch.
He made it to his destination without incident and laid the mirror out of harm¡¯s way for now. Next, he returned to the deck of the ship with more specialized tools in hand, it was time to perform some dissections.
Pryce¡¯s main concern was actually disposing of the bodies, they were very heavy and he had no way of pushing them overboard, so he was going to kill two birds with one stone and gain some scientific insight to these creatures while cleaning up the deck.
He already took basic measurements yesterday, but he noted various things as he took pictures of each specimen, using half a roll of tape for each raptor. Once he was done with physical characteristics, he noted the location of the bullet holes.
- Bullet #1 missed Raptor #1.
- Bullet #2 struck Raptor #1 in the torso.
- Bullet #3 struck Raptor #3 in the torso.
- Bullet #4 struck Raptor #2 in the torso at point-black range.
- Bullet #5 missed Raptor #4.
- Bullet #6 struck Raptor #4 in the thigh.
All three of the bullets in the torso had struck bone, causing them to shatter and rip through many other vital organs and arteries. The fourth raptor¡¯s bullet wound only tore through muscles in the thigh, so it wasn¡¯t surprising that it wasn¡¯t immediately fatal. Based on the amount of dried blood that poured out of the wound Pryce had probably nicked an artery, but he couldn¡¯t tell from an external examination.
Well, that was what the dissection was for.
Many hours later, Pryce had finished dissecting one of the raptors, placing the undamaged organs in formaldehyde solutions to be preserved.
One of the more unusual things that stood out to Pryce was the heart had a double aortic arch ¨C a feature which made the heart significantly more efficient. It was an adaptation found in crocodiles. Other than that, the layout of the internal organs was not dissimilar to other creatures Pryce had seen; he could identify the major organs like the heart, lungs, stomach, intestines, liver, kidneys, which was not surprising. All life needed to overcome similar challenges, and they all (probably) came from a common ancestor. It was a pity there was no way to determine how long ago that ancestor lived since they were probably aquatic, so if any fossils existed, they would be borderline impossible to locate and date.
On the subject of bones, those were one of the more overtly interesting features of the raptor. Not only were the bones hollow and porous on the inside, but the bones had a slight iridescent glimmer under certain angles of sunlight. The color reminded Pryce of the interior of clam shells¡
The ship had 50 liters of hydrochloric acid at a concentration of 12.39 mol/L, he diluted the acid to a tenth of stock concentration, then dropped a fingerbone he¡¯d boiled the meat off of.
The bone fizzled away as expected, and Pryce let it sit as he worked dissecting the next specimen. He¡¯d like to have one of each organ preserved, and this one¡¯s heart and lungs were damaged by the bullet.
Not having anyone to help him take notes and pictures while his hands were doing the dirty work sure slowed down the process a lot, but it couldn¡¯t be helped.
When he was done with the dissections, he took the bone out of the acidic solution with a pair of plastic tongs ¨C the acid had eaten away at the bones in much the same way it did for clam shells, leaving behind shiny structure.
A higher concentration of acid might¡¯ve left him with greater purity, but Pryce wanted to preserve his stock. He stirred the bone in some saltwater to wash off the acid, then put it under a microscope, using the sunlight as a backlight.
It certainly glimmered like nacre ¨C that was the name for the shiny material found on the inside of clam shells, and it was very light for its size, probably a hollow structure with many pockets of air inside of it. Pryce wasn¡¯t sure how he could verify this, so he consulted some of the many books brought along in the ship.
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
He found an entry for calcium carbonate, or chalk, which was the main component of nacre, along with a test for it. If it was made of calcium carbonate, it would fizz and produce carbon dioxide when introduced to a strong acid.
He didn¡¯t want to waste too much acid testing this, so he simply placed the bone into a graduated cylinder, then used an eyedropper to drip a few drops of stock concentration hydrochloric acid onto the bone, causing it to fizzle in a satisfying manner.
When the reaction stopped producing gas, Pryce lit a candle and ¡®poured¡¯ what he hoped was invisible CO
2 gas from the graduated cylinder onto the wick, causing it to sputter and die from the lack of oxygen.
¡°Yes!¡± Pryce pumped his fist in excitement at the success of the experiment.
If he really needed to confirm if it was CO
2 he could bubble it through a dilute solution of calcium hydroxide, which would produce a solid precipitate of calcium carbonate again, but that seemed a bit wasteful. A test like that could be done by someone else, and whether or not a raptor¡¯s bones incorporated nacre wasn¡¯t something worth wasting too much of his limited resources on.
The tests he had done left him quite certain this was nacre, and in a species so far removed from clams! It must reinforce their bone structure ¨C that would explain why the raptors bones were so porous! Pryce had great difficulty in moving them, but they were still oddly light for being such large creatures. The nacre in the bones reinforced the skeleton, allowing the predator to be lighter and faster.
Pryce grinned at the discovery, it was beautiful how random chance and selective pressures could result in something so wonderfully efficient. He was fairly certain this usage of calcium carbonate had evolved independently from clams given how drastically different the two species were, though he had no way to confirm that.
Many people thought birds used hollow skeletons to reduce weight; this was only half of the story. The hollow skeletons allowed the birds to store oxygen in their skeletons ¨C in essence, the lungs of a bird extend to their bones. He remembered the odd air sacs located near the bones and realized that raptors used it in the same way. It would definitely increase their endurance if they could store oxygen like that, or perhaps it allowed them to hold their breath longer to better ambush prey.
Though that did beg the question of how their body processed carbon dioxide. Contrary to popular belief, getting rid of CO
2 was arguably more important than taking in O
2. The suffocation reflex is dependent on the concentration of CO
2 in the body, this is why someone wouldn¡¯t feel like they were suffocating even if they were completely deprived of oxygen, so long as they were breathing plenty of some inert gas like nitrogen.
How they handled CO
2 would be far more difficult to determine, so he noted the problem in his research logs before cleaning up.
Having dissected the raptors, it was easy to toss the dismembered parts into the ocean. Pryce might have considered preserving some meat for food, but the flesh had an odd smell about it. They had been dead for a full day or so, and the warm tropical climate certainly didn¡¯t help in preserving the flesh.
In the end, Pryce disposed of all of the raptors and brought up buckets of seawater to scrub off the dried blood from the deck. He wondered what he should do to the raptor on the beach, looking on the beach he could see that¡the body was gone.
Pryce rubbed his eyes, the day¡¯s labors catching up on him as he contemplated this additional piece of information. The tracks leading to and from the location of the body were definitely raptor, so they either wanted the meat or had death rituals. Though the former was entirely possible, he was leaning towards the latter being more plausible based on the intelligence they exhibited.
Having finished cleaning up yesterday¡¯s mess, Pryce returned to the galley and made himself a nice hearty meal. As he ate, he recalled the classes he taught and the lectures he gave at universities. The experience wasn¡¯t going to be very helpful in the days to come, but it was the only time he had ever drafted a lesson syllabus before.
Why reminisce about his time as a professor? Because it was time to teach a dragon how to speak English.
The dragon was an adult ¨C at least Pryce hoped the 13-meter-long creature was an adult. This was good because it had the intelligence of an adult, but bad because fully developed brains had more difficulty learning new things, at least for humans. How long would it take for the dragon to learn enough English to communicate properly? Pryce had no idea. The average human child spoke simple sentences from age 3-4 and spoke complex ones at ages 4-5, though Pryce recalled a child who spoke his first words at 6 months and full sentences at the age of two.
¡°¡Uncle Alex¡!¡±
Pryce shook his head, closing his eyes as he dismissed the painful memory.
Teaching a language was a lot harder than Pryce thought it would be. He knew it wasn¡¯t a great idea to teach someone a language the same way a native speaker learnt it, and the best way to learn was to use it¡but that was about it. He knew English very well, being his mother tongue, but he wasn¡¯t a linguist. He knew about the 8 parts of speech of course: noun, pronoun, verb, adjective, adverb, preposition, conjunction, and interjection.
The easiest to teach would be nouns, he¡¯d already done that by pointing at things and saying their name.
Pronouns could be tossed out for the sake of clarity, he¡¯d just talk without them. He¡¯d sound like a caveman, but he would be understood, and that was the important part.
Verbs could be demonstrated with pantomime, though they would be trickier than nouns. Same with adverbs.
He decided to ignore prepositions, conjunctions, and interjections for now. What he needed was effective communication, he didn¡¯t need the dragon to be publishing scientific articles anytime soon.
Things seemed relatively easy on paper, but Pryce could already tell conceptual things would be a pain to get across, and that wasn¡¯t even getting to the nightmare that was conjugation.
He groaned, rubbing his temples before deciding to worry about it tomorrow.
[JOURNAL ENTRY]
Raptor dissection today was messy, but insightful. I wonder, how many creatures on this island use nacre in their skeletal structure? Perhaps this trait can be used to identify which ones share a common ancestor¡
I¡¯m still capable of using my left arm despite the shoulder wound, it doesn¡¯t bother me too much unless I try to lift something moderately heavy.
The dragon didn¡¯t show up today, I wonder why? Perhaps they sleep for long times to preserve energy? Or was it occupied with something else? If the roles were reversed, I¡¯d certainly be eager to meet a strange little creature capable of speech.
I hope they turn up tomorrow, if not then I¡¯ll find something to occupy myself with.
Chapter 9, Day 29: English
Pryce woke up early and quickly prepared for the day under the light of a lantern.
An hour later he sat on the deck of the ship, the sun just barely rising as he waited for the dragon. He had begun to compile important information regarding the species he studied, sort of like a bestiary. Raptors were the only entry so far, and he had little about their behavior other than the fact that they were highly intelligent and seemed to prefer ambush hunting. The fact that two attacks had followed soon after he had killed the first raptor implied social bonds strong enough to beget a sense of vengeance as well.
One thing that concerned him was how the raptors only flinched a little at the sound of rifle shots. It wasn¡¯t something he noticed during the heat of the moment, but virtually all animals can be frightened by loud noises. The crack of a rifle was far louder than almost anything in nature ¨C so why didn¡¯t the raptors run?
The only answer that seemed sensible was that the raptor who escaped him on day 25 had ''told'' the others about gunshots, so they knew to expect it. It was an extraordinary hypothesis that lacked sufficient proof¡no, Pryce remembered there was one more piece of evidence he had forgotten; the raptors seemed to try and use the masts and smokestacks on the deck of the ship. The escapee didn¡¯t have to know how rifles worked, but she did watch him use the rifle, so she might have figured out that the rifle needed to be pointed at the target.
Of course, raptors could simply have the instinct to use trees for cover when hunting to break line of sight, but it seemed too coincidental to be mere chance, and he promised himself not to underestimate them any longer.
He looked up from his notes for what felt like the hundredth time and saw a bird gliding high up in the sky. He squinted, then brought up the binoculars. Nope, definitely not a bird.
Grinning with excitement, Pryce pulled the hand mirror out of his pocket to reflect sunlight up towards the dragon, hoping they could see it from so high.
Pryce didn¡¯t know if the dragon was already coming towards him or not, but the shape in the distance did seem to flap its wings as if to hurry.
Initially Pryce was going to simply wait on the deck, would have just waited on the deck, but he¡¯d learned his lesson with assumptions by now ¨C he would wait by the doorway, rifle in hand as well as a few sonic grenades in a bandolier in case this was a different dragon from the day before. He felt ridiculous, like a child playing soldier, but he couldn¡¯t afford to take any unnecessary risks now.
The marine grenades were meant to scare off any oceanic predators that threatened the ship by detonating in the water. Though they were designed to be a deterrent rather than a weapon, they were still quite powerful and could probably do some serious damage if it detonated near a dragon. If it could be helped, Pryce would prefer to avoid killing any sapient beings.
Of course, he¡¯d drop the weapons as soon as he verified that this was the same individual he had met. He wasn¡¯t going to antagonize the dragon who had saved his life, regardless of whether they were motivated by altruism or selfishness.
His preparations were fortunately unneeded this time. As the dragon drew nearer, Pryce was able to recognize the three parallel scars he had noted yesterday on its shoulders, so Pryce stepped onto the deck and set down his weapons before jogging to the nose of the deck.
By the time he reached the nose of the ship the dragon was seconds away from landing, so he pointed at the beach and hoped the dragon would land there. Pryce would have liked to wait for the dragon on the beach, but he didn¡¯t want to run the unnecessary risk of sitting out in the open for any raptor to sneak up on him.
The dragon seemed to understand his signal, and they landed on the beach instead of the deck, kicking up a great storm. Pryce waited for the artificial sandstorm to abate before pulling himself over the bulwark and sliding down the rope he had set up earlier this morning.
Landing onto the beach with a light thud, Pryce looked up¡right into the face of the dragon staring at him.
¡°Uh¡hi?¡± Pryce said, waving a hand meekly.
¡°Ggguuuuuoi?¡± The dragon said, staring directly at him.
Pryce stared uncomprehendingly, too busy trying to not be intimidated until the dragon made a noise ¨C that sounded exactly like an electrical spark ¨C and brought up a talon, pointing it directly at Pryce¡¯s coat pocket with the mirror. He had no time to ponder how the dragon had generated an electrical spark, if that was what it was.
¡°Ah, right, you like shiny things, don¡¯t you?¡± He said as he held out the mirror so that the glass-side faced the dragon. Pryce belatedly realized the dragon had to have seen him put the mirror in his pocket from that great height, just what kind of eyesight did this species have?
The dragon jerked their head back as they saw their own reflection, hissing in alarm. Pryce jumped backwards in return, startled at the sudden aggression, but much to Pryce¡¯s relief the dragon quickly calmed down after their initial surprise.
He grimaced as he realized how foolish he had been, of course someone would be alarmed if they saw a mirror for the first time, and a startled dragon would be dangerous regardless of intent. He should have left it laying around somewhere to let the dragon inspect it themself.
Said dragon was currently bobbing their head as they watched their reflection copy their movement, which probably only showed part of the head, given the small size of the mirror. Pryce slowly set down the mirror and the dragon¡¯s gaze remained intently on their reflection. He slowly stepped back to the ship and went to grab the second-largest mirror he had placed in the cargo hold. He carried it down the ramp carefully while the dragon still inquisitively examined the mirror.
¡°Hey uh¡dragon?¡± Pryce said uncertainly, the dragon didn¡¯t seem to hear him at first, but eventually lifted their head a few moments later, as if reluctant to tear their gaze from the small mirror.
Then their eyes widened as they locked their gaze upon the bigger mirror, their wings shifted so that their wing-thumbs lifted higher. Pryce mentally noted that bit of body language as possibly meaning excitement as he propped up the mirror with a stick, allowing the dragon to use the mirror without Pryce having to hold it up for them. The dragon stepped towards him, the smaller mirror apparently forgotten as they examined their face in detail, tilting their head this way and that, then opened their mouth to examine their maw.
Pryce brought out a small notebook in his breast pocket to scribble some notes about the behaviors the dragon exhibited. Of every non-human species, only corvids had confidently passed the mirror self-recognition test
[1]. Pryce was certain the dragon could pass given its obvious sapience, but it was still surprising to see them understanding the mirror so quickly.
The only natural mirror Pryce could think of would be the surface of a calm lake, so it wasn¡¯t impossible for a creature living in the wilderness to recognize a mirror now that he thought about it, but it was still a sign of remarkable intelligence. He briefly wondered how a human who had never seen a mirror would have fared.
That thought made Pryce wonder if dragons might even be smarter than humans. From what Pryce had seen so far, they seemed to be roughly human level in terms of intelligence, if not higher. But if they were so smart, why didn¡¯t they develop any tools or science? It was possible that this dragon just didn¡¯t carry any tools, but if they had some level of materials science then they shouldn¡¯t be surprised by a mirror.
One look at the powerfully built body and wickedly serrated talons gave Pryce a compelling idea; they simply never needed to. When compared to animals, humans were pitifully weak, which forced them to work together, which eventually led to the development of culture, tools, and technology.
In a way, human weakness was the thing that caused them to become the dominant species of their environment, while dragons were simply born strong.
Or he was completely wrong, this theory did have one hole in it: The dragon had a spoken language. Pryce was quite certain that they had language given the fact that they had names, and if they had language that meant interaction with others of their own kind ¨C after all, an individual couldn¡¯t invent a language without anyone to use it with.
The dragon had stepped backwards to examine their full body in the mirror while Pryce was deep in thought. Pryce noticed that the dragon was fanning their wings in a dramatic sort of way, and hurriedly brought up the camera dangling around his neck to take some photos. The dragon¡¯s spines twitched, and their eyes flicked to the camera as it made a shuttering noise, but quickly returned their attention to the mirror.
Pryce greedily snapped up several photos in a few seconds, then noted a gash at the end of one of the dragon¡¯s right-wing membranes. It would¡¯ve been a large wound on a human, perhaps longer than the span of his hand, but for a dragon it must¡¯ve been a rather small one. He noted that the wings seemed perfectly free of scars, despite their fragile appearance. That meant that the wings could probably regenerate damage very well, Pryce had heard bat wings were surprisingly adept at knitting themselves together given plenty of food and rest.
Pryce pointed at the injury and asked, ¡°Wound?¡±
The dragon paused in their self-examinations for a moment to tilt their head at him, then at the wound.
¡°Woo-nn¡nd?¡± The dragon asked, pointing at Pryce¡¯s injured shoulder.
¡°Wound,¡± Pryce said in confirmation. That exchange went well, but what Pryce really wanted to know was how the dragon received the wound, and he had to ask that question while also teaching the dragon the words for it¡
Having an idea, Pryce held up a finger and said, ¡°wait,¡± before heading into the ship. The dragon seemed to have no issue with this, returning to what looked suspiciously like preening in front of the mirror.
Well, at least they¡¯re having fun, Pryce thought as he went to find the pictures he had taken.
When Pryce returned, he held up a picture of a dead raptor ¨C he¡¯d taken it yesterday with an instant camera as he had wanted some physical pictures to look at instead of having to use the film viewer.
When the dragon finally deigned to glance away from the mirror, he said, ¡°Photo,¡± while holding out the photograph.
The dragon didn¡¯t respond, instead staring at the picture, blinking as they cocked their head and made bizarre throaty vocalizations. Pryce realized too late that photographs would also be very strange if one had never seen one before. Well, hopefully the dragon wouldn¡¯t think he was a wizard or something.
¡°Fffo¡to,¡± the dragon said after finishing whatever he had said in¡.dragonish? Dragonese? Pryce decided on Draconic. Then they sat back on their haunches and gave Pryce what he could only describe as a baffled look as they pointed at the photo.
Pryce held up the instant camera, and said, ¡°Camera.¡±
The dragon spent a few seconds inspecting this strange new thing before parroting, ¡°Cah¡merr¡ah.¡±
Pryce pointed from camera to photograph, then taught his first sentence to the dragon: ¡°Camera, photo. Camera make photo,¡± he said as he aimed the camera at the dragon, taking a picture of his inquisitive face.
¡°Cah-mera may-kh photo?¡± The dragon echoed questioningly as the camera whirred and rolled out a colored photo of the dragon.
Pryce grabbed the photo and turned it over to show it to the dragon, who stared at the photo with widening eyes.
A few moments later Pryce pointed at the wound on the dragon¡¯s wing, and asked, ¡°What make wound?¡±
The dragon still seemed a bit confounded by the photograph, but said, ¡°¡ww¡aht? What make wound?¡± in what Pryce interpreted as a confused tone, but fortunately they seemed to realize that ¡®what¡¯ could only mean one thing: ¡°Raptor.¡±
Pryce paused, trying to recall if he had seen that injury on Day 27. He was quite sure he would have noticed the wound, and he didn¡¯t remember seeing it. So that meant the wound was inflicted between the day before and today, which meant the dragon was wounded yesterday by raptors?
Pulling out the first photo he had shown them, Pryce pointed at the raptor in the photograph. ¡°Make wound?¡±
The dragon gave a thumbs up, causing Pryce to stifle a grin at the strange sight. Now was a good a time as any to teach ¡®yes¡¯ and ¡®no¡¯.
Pryce gave a thumbs up in his right hand, then pointed at it with his left while saying, ¡°Yes.¡±
¡°¡Yeh¡Yes,¡± the dragon said.
He gave a thumbs down, pointed at it again, then said, ¡°No.¡±
¡°No.¡±
Great, now that the basics were established, it was time for questions.
¡°This,¡± Pryce said, holding up the photo of the raptor again, ¡°is photo.¡±
The dragon blinked questioningly, but said in uncertain tones, ¡°Yes?¡±
¡°This,¡± Pryce said again, but pointing at the raptor in the photo this time said, ¡°is raptor¡and this,¡± he swapped the picture with the one with the dragon he had just taken, ¡°is dragon.¡± The dragon looked to be following, so Pryce continued, ¡°What make wound¡is question,¡± he said, carefully enunciating each word separately. ¡°Yes is answer, no is answer.¡±
¡°Question, answer,¡± the dragon said, bobbing their head.
¡°Yes! Yes and no is answer!¡± It felt more than a little stupid to be speaking like a caveman, but he had to build a foundation first or else the dragon would just get lost and confused. Then he belatedly realized that the dragon nodded, and he tried to remember if they had seen him nod before, but he wasn¡¯t sure. He made a mental note to ask more about that later, it would be quite interesting if dragons and humans had somehow independently decided that nodding meant ¡®yes¡¯.
The dragon had tilted their head in thought for the past few seconds, but was now pointing at the photos. ¡°This,¡± they said, pointing at the photo of the raptor, ¡°and this,¡± they said as they pointed at the photo of themselves, ¡°is photo.¡±
¡°Yes!¡± Pryce said excitedly, the dragon was following far better than he had expected or hoped. Speaking of, now was a good time to teach ¡®or¡¯.
¡°What make wound?¡± Pryce asked, but this time pointing at his own shoulder injury. ¡°This,¡± he said, pointing at raptor, ¡°or this?¡± He said, pointing at his second machete.
¡°Raptor,¡± the dragon said, pointing at the photo of the raptor.
¡°Yes!¡± Pryce briefly wondered if he should enforce positive behavior somehow, maybe with food from the ship, but dismissed the idea. He might consider it if the dragon lost interest, but so far, they were just as engaged as he was. May as well continue with things the dragon was interested in.
¡°Mirror,¡± he said, pointing at the large mirror on the ground.
¡°Mee¡or¡Meer¡or,¡± the dragon said, glancing at their reflection again.
¡°Knife,¡± this time pointing at the machete, he didn¡¯t want to use complex words right now and he thought the word ¡®machete¡¯ might be a bit difficult.
¡°Nni¡pff¡¡±
They continued for several hours, Pryce pointing at things and naming them. Most of the nouns were human and dragon body parts, as well as whatever was around, like ¡®sand¡¯, ¡®tree¡¯, and ¡®ship¡¯.
The dragon took a particular interest in the ship when Pryce mentioned it, they tapped the hull a few times, making a deep ringing noise that echoed out of the exit hatch.
¡°What¡is ship?¡± The dragon asked.
Pryce scratched his head, unsure of how to proceed. Something like that was too complicated to explain using their elementary English. Gesturing weakly as he tried to find words to answer with, he ultimately said, ¡°Complicated.¡±
¡°What is complicated?¡± The dragon asked, tilting their head.
Pryce shrugged helplessly. At least he could teach the words to explain that he would tell them later.
First, he would need numbers.
Picking up an iron rod and a handful of pebbles, Pryce held a pebble up to the dragon and said, ¡°stone¡± before dropping it into piles, then started drawing in the sand.
¡°Here,¡± Pryce said as he pointed at the table he drew into the sand. The dragon took a few steps closer and craned their head. They spent a few moments scrutinizing each numeral, apparently confused.
Pryce began to wonder if dragons even had written language. He could still teach them the words, but it would be better if the dragon already knew of the concept to start with. They had ten talons, five on each foreclaw, so Pryce assumed if they had the concept of numbers, it would be in base 10, just like humans. Perhaps he was mistaken?
Just as he was about to intervene, the dragon began to fill in the table using their talons to draw into the sand. Pryce shuffled over to get out of the way and to get a better view as the dragon worked.
Well¡at least it was an intuitive system. Zero was definitely an oddball, also strange that it seemed like crossing something out.
Pryce took a few minutes to gather more pebbles and to expand the table. When he was done, he watched as the dragon filled it in once again.
Definitely an intuitive system, and Pryce imagined it served its purpose quite well if all dragons needed was to record a number of something. Each line was drawn with 1 ¨C 5 talons, so each number from 0 ¨C 10 took at most 2 strokes to draw, while a number like 99 would probably take 4 strokes.
The drawback of this kind of numerical system was that it was almost impossible to do any kind of math with.
Taking pictures of the tables using film and instant cameras, Pryce glanced at the talons again ¨Cspecifically the strange red glint they had. Red usually indicated the presence of iron¡did dragons have some kind of iron compound in their claws? Why? As awesome as that sounded, normal talons would suffice to kill prey, and talons with iron compounds in it wouldn¡¯t be that great of an advantage. Evolution didn¡¯t do things for no reason, in fact, evolution always did the bare minimum. If something worked, then there is no reason to change it.
So that meant dragons had to have some reason to need more durable talons¡Pryce glanced at the numbers drawn by the dragon¡¯s talons. If they carved symbols into tougher things like wood, perhaps that was a good enough reason to evolve iron talons.
It was not unprecedented for a species to utilize iron to strengthen itself, beavers had dark orange teeth that incorporated iron compounds in its structure to make it more durable. They needed it because they chew through wood, so maybe dragons used their iron for similar purposes, for example they might carve pieces of wood to build nests or tools, maybe they even had art! Pryce had to stifle a chuckle at the mental image of a dragon whittling wood like an old man.
Pryce wasn¡¯t an anthropologist. He was never really interested in that field of science, but now he could see the appeal. What kind of cultures might a species so far removed from humanity develop?
That was enough theorizing for now, Pryce picked up the rod to focus his next task; teaching the dragon how to pronounce numbers. He pointed at the square with no rocks in it and said, ¡°zero.¡±
¡°Zz¡.ee¡roh¡?¡±
Pryce pointed at a lone one rock and said ¡°one.¡±
¡°Wh¡One.¡±
¡°Two.¡±
¡°Two.¡±
Pryce continued going up from one to ten without incident, but once he reached eleven the dragon seemed to flick his spines in what was apparently confusion. They still parroted back the numbers without error, so Pryce kept going. As he counted he realized that from an outside perspective, the counting system didn¡¯t really make much sense.
What was an ¡®eleven¡¯? It had nothing to do with ten or one, same with ¡®twelve¡¯, ¡®thirteen¡¯ at least started the trend of having the -teen suffix. Not to mention it didn¡¯t start with three- but thir-. Fourteen at least made sense, but fifteen had the same problems as thirteen. Sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen were all like fourteen in consistency at least, and after Pryce got to Twenty he pointed back at the first number while looking pointedly at the dragon.
¡°One,¡± the dragon said.
Pryce moved onto the next one.
¡°Two,¡± the dragon said, almost¡reluctantly?
Pryce pointe at three-
¡°Three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty,¡± the dragon recited.
Pryce stood still, stunned into silence. It seemed dragons have excellent memories, at least when it came to sounds.
The dragon¡¯s muzzle wasn¡¯t nearly as emotive as a human face, but if he didn¡¯t know any better Pryce would¡¯ve said they looked plainly smug.
Pryce quickly read through the rest of the numbers up to one hundred since the dragon seemed to be getting bored. After the lesson in numbers, he went to retrieve a Go board from the cargo hold.
Setting down a tarp, he brought out 10 stones and flipped them all to black.
¡°Black,¡± Pryce said, before flipping them to white. ¡°White¡±
¡°Black, white.¡±
Pryce placed one stone in his palm and said ¡°stone.¡± Then he placed another in his palm and said ¡°stones¡±. He scooped up all of the remaining stones and said, ¡°stones.¡±
The dragon squinted their eyes as they considered the problem. After a few moments they said ¡°One is stone, two is stones, three is stones, four is stones¡?¡±
¡°Yes,¡± Pryce breathed a deep sigh of relief; he had hoped plurals wouldn¡¯t be too abstract. He didn¡¯t know if the dragon¡¯s own language even had plurals. It must be a strange concept if one had never seen them before.
¡°One,¡± Pryce said as he picked up a single stone. ¡°Many,¡± he said as he gestured at the pile of stones at his feet.
Pryce picked up one stone away from the group and flipped it to black. ¡°One stone is black,¡± he said, then moved another black stone onto his palm. ¡°Two stones are black,¡± he said. Before the dragon could respond, Pryce flipped another one and said, ¡°Three stones are black¡Four stones are black¡Five stones are black¡¡± Until he flipped all 10 stones.
He started over again, this time tossing the stones in his clasped hands to randomize them. Opening his palm, 6 were white and 4 were black.
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¡°Some stones are white; some stones are black¡most stones are white,¡± Pryce said before flipping two whites into blacks. ¡°Some stones are white; some stones are black¡most stones are black.¡± Then he flipped seven to black, ¡°Many are black, some are white.¡± Flipping them all to black; ¡°All are black, none are white.¡± He flipped them all to white and looked up at the dragon expectantly.
¡°All are white, none are black,¡± the dragon answered easily.
He flipped them so 8 were white, 2 were black.
¡°Most are white, some are black.¡±
Okay, now that the dragon understood those words, he could teach them ¡®more than¡¯ and ¡®less than¡¯.
¡°This,¡± Pryce said as he held up one pebble in his palm, ¡°is less than three.¡± He repeated the statement as he added another pebble in his palm.
¡°This is three,¡± he said, holding up three pebbles in his palm.
¡°This is more than three,¡± he repeated with four and five pebbles in his palm.
¡°Is this more than five?¡± Pryce said, holding up one pebble.
¡°No.¡±
¡°Is this less than seven?¡± Pryce said.
¡°Yes.¡±
Great, the dragon was still grasping concepts with ease. Now for something a little stranger. Pryce held up two black stones, ¡°This stone is like this stone,¡± he said before flipping both to white. ¡°This stone is like this stone.¡± He flipped one to black, ¡°This stone is no like this stone.¡±
He thought the difference between ¡®no¡¯ and ¡®not¡¯ was too difficult to convey right now, hopefully he could teach the dragon the difference later after they established the most important parts.
The dragon looked around on the beach and pinched up one seashell, then flicked a few others away before plucking up a second similar seashell, depositing it into the palm of their talons. ¡°Question: This seashell is like this seashell?¡±
¡°Answer: Yes!¡± Pryce smiled, it was a great idea to preface things with ¡®question¡¯ since neither of them could be sure if something was a question or not, he really should¡¯ve thought of it himself. The dragon was even applying the concepts he was conveying on different things, their intelligence was almost frightening if Pryce was being honest with himself.
Now he¡¯d see if the dragon could understand binary logic as easily.
¡°Question: Is this stone white or this stone white?¡± He asked, holding up two black stones. ¡°Answer: No.¡±
¡°Question: Is this stone white or this stone white?¡± He asked, flipping one stone to white. ¡°Answer: Yes.¡±
¡°Question: Is this stone white or this stone white?¡± He asked, flipping both stones so it was still one black, one white. ¡°Answer: Yes.¡±
¡°Question: Is this stone white or this stone white?¡± He asked one last time, flipping a stone so both were white. ¡°Answer: Yes¡±
Pryce looked up at the dragon, who had the impression of one who was completely lost.
¡°Is this stone black or is this stone black?¡± Pryce asked, changing tactics as he pointed at the white stone, and then the black.
¡°Yes, this stone,¡± he said, pointing at the black.
Huh, they got it right. Pryce wondered if he only misinterpreted his silence as confusion, and tried another example to check if he truly understood it.
¡°Is this stone white or is this stone white?¡± Pryce asked, holding up two black stones.
The dragon made an odd rumbling noise, flattening his spines. Confusion? Or something a bit different? ¡°No,¡± He said.
¡°Yes, Good!¡± Pryce said, even if he didn¡¯t completely understand the meaning of ¡®or¡¯, at least he¡¯d established some foundations, and it was more than he¡¯d expected.
Then he repeated the same exercise, this time demonstrating the meaning of ¡®and¡¯. The dragon seemed to grasp the concept more easily than the ¡®or¡¯ example, or perhaps he had caught onto what Pryce was trying to teach.
Pryce looked at the sun that was getting low in the sky. It was a good time to teach the dragon about other colors since he had just taught him about black and white.
Pryce retrieved a prism from his pocket, it was a replacement part for the binoculars, so he held onto it firmly while he introduced the object to the dragon, who took some interest in the new shiny thing.
It took some finagling, but eventually Pryce set up the prism on a small box so that it cast a rainbow onto the ground.
¡°Red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, violet.¡± Pryce said. The dragon apparently had a perfect memory, so he was comfortable teaching words at a quicker pace ¨C though he still took care to enunciate each word clearly.
But perhaps he went too fast this time. The dragon cocked their head as they often did when confused. ¡°Red. Orange. Yellow. Green. Blue. Indigo. Violet.¡± Pryce repeated, more slowly this time.
Before Pryce could stop him, the dragon lightly poked the prism with a talon, eyes wide at the colorful beams of light that danced across the sand as the prism shifted. Pryce smiled despite being a little annoyed. It was oddly endearing to see such a large and powerful predator displaying childlike curiosity. He gave him a few more moments before tapping where the prism had been and saying, ¡°Here.¡±
When that elicited no response, he repeated the request more loudly. This time the dragon glanced at him and begrudgingly placed the prism into its original position, though Pryce had to make some re-adjustments to get the rainbow properly visible again.
¡°Red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, violet.¡± Pryce repeated for the third time.
The dragon flicked their nictitating membranes ¨C otherwise known as the third eyelid ¨C Pryce didn¡¯t even realize they had those, but he didn¡¯t have time to ponder the implications, because the dragon reached out a talon and tapped on¡the empty spot next to red, then tapped the empty spot next to violet.
¡°What is this?...What is this?¡± The dragon repeated the question as it tapped the two apparently empty spots.
Pryce stared blankly for a few moments before remembering the sun emitted wavelengths of light far outside the visible spectrum. Humans could only see a small portion of the electromagnetic spectrum aptly named the ¡®visible light spectrum¡¯, which contained wavelengths of light from 380 nm to 700 nm (nanometers).
As a general rule of thumb infrared light could pass through anything visible could, but could ultraviolet light pass through the glass of a prism? Apparently it could, judging by the dragon¡¯s reaction, but what wavelengths? Pryce excused himself for a moment to find a textbook with the information he needed:
Ultraviolet (UV) light at 280 nanometers (nm) and below was referred to as UVC, UV light from 280 ¨C 320 nm was called UVB, and 320 ¨C 400 nm was UVA.
UVC was so short that it was absorbed by the ozone layer, so he didn¡¯t have to think about those wavelengths.
Wavelengths of light 330 nm and above passes through most glasses, assuming this prism was made of glass, that would mean the prism would be opaque to UVB.
That left a band of UVA next to the violet band, and a band of near-infrared next to the red band that Pryce couldn¡¯t see.
Why could dragons see UV light? No idea. Perhaps it allowed them to see past the camouflage of certain animals¡like the raptors? It was a good idea, but it could easily be used for other things.
Pryce wasn¡¯t sure what the longest wavelength of IR light that the prism could split was, but given that the dragon only tapped on one spot he guessed it was only about 70 nm longer than the red wavelength.
Why did dragons evolve to see IR light? Pryce knew very long wavelengths of IR did go through clouds, which would be a pretty important sense for flying creatures to have, but if the dragon could only see wavelengths a bit longer than red then that didn¡¯t make sense. He also knew birds didn¡¯t have the ability to see in IR, so there must be another reason¡he¡¯d have to ask about that later.
Pryce was¡absolutely amazed, he didn¡¯t know of any creatures in the animal kingdom that could see UV and IR. Oddly enough, the only known creature in the animal kingdom to hold that distinction was the goldfish.
He couldn¡¯t think of any way he could determine the lowest wavelength of UV light that dragons could see. If the dragon could see light below 320 nm, then glass should appear a bit tinted, if not then the glass would be clear, but how could he teach the dragon what clear was? Water blocked UV light, so it would appear somewhat darker, the same way it absorbs red and emits blue, so¡maybe if he used a little bit of water? That should be clear.
First, he had to name the bands of light. ¡°UV, IR,¡± he said, pointing at the invisible bands next to violet and red. Then he tried to explain that he couldn¡¯t see the bands of light the dragon could. ¡°Pryce yes see,¡± Pryce said, pointing at his eyes and then at the rainbow. ¡°Pryce no see,¡± he said, this time pointing at his eyes and then the bands of UV and IR.
The dragon cocked their head, blinking in confusion. Pryce didn¡¯t blame them for not understanding. It took humanity a while to realize there were types of light that we couldn¡¯t see, and he didn¡¯t do a great job explaining either.
Moving onto his experiment, Pryce poured a little bit of freshwater from a bottle onto his cupped palm and looked up at the dragon.
¡°Water.¡±
¡°¡Water,¡± the dragon said, glancing away from the rainbow.
Pryce placed a black pebble in his hand so it sat underneath the water, then asked, ¡°Question: You see black stone, yes?¡±
¡°Yes.¡±
¡°Stone is black, water is clear.¡±
¡°Water is c¡leer.¡±
Pryce pointed at the glass. ¡°Question: Is glass clear?¡±
The dragon blinked ¨C normally this time ¨C and answered, ¡°Some?¡±
Alright, that settled things; Since the glass was somewhat clear to them, that means they could see the UV light below 330 nm being absorbed.
Pryce could hardly contain himself, he was the first human in all of history to learn all about these things! He wanted so badly to see what the dragon saw, what kind of world did they see?
Since he taught the dragon water, Pryce asked the dragon to wait as he grabbed some salt from the galley, then returned and pointed at the ocean, ¡°Ocean, ocean is water with salt.¡± Then he poured a bit of salt onto his palm and said, ¡°This is salt.¡±
The dragon leaned their head over and flicked a tongue out to taste the air, their eyes widening in surprise.
¡°¡Sss¡alt?¡± They said, sounding a bit different than normal. Pryce wasn¡¯t sure what emotion that was. Salt was rare and valuable at one point in time, maybe it was also valuable for dragons? Their gaze almost seemed comically longing. The ship had brought plenty of salt as it was used in flavoring and preserving meats. As the only person around, Pryce had plenty to share.
¡°Take salt,¡± Pryce said, holding out the bag.
¡°Take?¡± The dragon said, their wings lifting up a bit as they pulled their head back ¨C surprise.
¡°Yes, take.¡± Pryce confirmed, and the dragon reached out to hold the paper bag carefully between two talons.
The dragon shifted, almost as if uncomfortable. Then they reached over to scratch at a spot on their back, dislodging a scale and giving it to Pryce.
Pryce accepted the scale enthusiastically, it was perhaps five centimeters across, larger than any scale he had ever seen, but more interesting was its lack of color. It was the slightest bit iridescent like an opal or nacre, but it was mostly transparent. It must be the hide underneath the scales that gave it its color.
The dragon didn¡¯t quite make eye contact when offering it, as though they thought it was not a sufficient payment for the salt, but Pryce was ecstatic to have a scale to study later. Happily pocketing the scale, Pryce decided it was time to ask some more personal questions.
Pryce wasn¡¯t much of an artist, his artistic experience began and ended with sketches of scientific diagrams, and those mostly of cells, so it took a minute for him to sketch a recognizable dragon in the sand. When he was done, Pryce pointed at it and said, ¡°dragon.¡±
The dragon craned their head to look at the sketch. They cocked their head this way and that before snorting dismissively, then wiped away the sketch with their tail ¨C almost knocking Pryce over.
¡°Hey!¡± Pryce protested, but the dragon ignored him as they placed a talon into the sand and started drawing.
Half a minute later, an objectively better sketch of a dragon laid in the sand. Pryce crossed his arms and glared at the dragon, who looked completely unrepentant. Well, at least that answered if they had art. The sketch was sort of stylized, being halfway between an icon and portrait, and the important features like the legs, wings, head, and straight twin horns were easily discernible.
Resisting the urge to grumble, Pryce did his best to copy the sketch to draw a second dragon next to the first. This one was a passable replica, judging by how the dragon didn¡¯t wipe it out of existence. Then he drew a family tree line connecting the two and pointing to an egg ¨C Pryce hoped they laid eggs; else he¡¯d have to draw a baby dragon¡which would be a hatchling? Or dragonet? Pryce went with the latter.
¡°This dragon and this dragon make egg,¡± Pryce said, pointing with the rod as he talked.
The dragon made an odd snorting noise in response, then brushed away Pryce¡¯s second drawing of a dragon.
¡°Hey!¡±
Ignoring Pryce once again, the dragon drew another sketch, but this dragon was a bit bigger than the previous one with some kind of markings around its head. The first dragon¡¯s horns were straight and long, while the second dragon had a set of horns that curled like a ram¡¯s.
Pryce nodded, mollified a little. He had drawn two male or two female dragons, he wasn¡¯t sure if the straight-horned sex was male or female.
Pryce hadn¡¯t taught the dragon the word for ¡®which¡¯ yet, but that was because he could just say something like; ¡°What dragon make egg?¡± While pointing at the two dragons.
The dragon pointed at the one with curly horns. Pryce smiled as he took pictures of the sketch ¨C first nonhuman art recorded by a human! Technically it was a joint artwork too, even if all he drew were the lines and the egg. Now he finally had confirmation on the dragon¡¯s gender, too.
¡°Male, Female,¡± Pryce said, pointing at the straight-horned dragon, then the curly-horned one.
¡°Male,¡± the dragon said, pointing at himself. Pryce wasn¡¯t sure what the dragon was getting at until he pointed at Pryce. ¡°Pryce, male?¡±
Strange, he¡¯d never seen a human before, so how did he guess what gender Pryce was? Maybe it was just a lucky guess.
¡°Answer: Pryce is male,¡± Pryce confirmed, and the dragon nodded.
Next on the list was age, and that needed him to establish words for time.
¡°Sun,¡± Pryce said, pointed at said object in the sky.
¡°Ts¡Sun.¡±
¡°Day,¡± Pryce said, then pointed at the sun before gesturing to the western horizon, down into the earth, up the eastern horizon, and coming to a stop at the sun again.
¡°Day.¡±
¡°Three hundred sixty-five days is ¡®year¡¯,¡± Pryce explained. He wanted to say it was ¡®one year¡¯, but the dragon might misinterpret that as one word.
¡°Three¡hundred¡sixty-five¡days is year,¡± the dragon said slowly, as if mulling over each word.
Pryce wasn¡¯t sure if the dragon completely understood the human number system yet, so he drew what he thought was the draconic symbol for 365:
The dragon perked up when he started drawing the number, and made a strange crooning noise. Was that¡encouragement? Approval? The dragon almost seemed to recognize the number pretty quickly, did dragons know how long a year was?
Knowing the length of a year wasn¡¯t as simple as it sounded, especially given that this island might not even have seasons. Most scientists, including himself, held the belief that the most likely possibility was that the island would have a very stable climate year-round due to being so close to the equator, as well as being surrounded by the massive heat sink that was the ocean.
If they didn¡¯t have distinct seasons, then the only way for someone to know about years would be if they looked at the sun and observed how days shortened and lengthened in cycles, and the amount of time from one summer equinox to the next would be one year.
¡°Three hundred sixty-five days is year,¡± the dragon repeated, more confidently this time.
¡°How many years you see?¡± Pryce asked, which was the closest he could do to asking how old the dragon was.
Perhaps not surprisingly, the dragon seemed confused by this wording.
Pryce struggled to come up with a better way to word the question, but nothing came to mind, so he¡¯d just have to teach new words.
¡°Question: When you take pig? Answer: two days ago.¡± Pryce said, swinging his arm in two arcs in the opposite direction that the sun traveled, hoping the example would make sense.
¡°Question: When raptor make wound?¡± He asked, pointing at the gash in the dragon¡¯s wing.
¡°¡Answer: one day¡ago¡¡± The dragon said, mulling over each word.
¡°Yes!¡± Pryce said while giving an enthusiastic thumbs up. Then he sketched a line pointing from egg to a small dragon while keeping an eye on the dragon to make sure he wouldn¡¯t wipe away this one.
¡°Egg make dragon, is ¡®hatch¡¯,¡± Pryce explained.
¡°Ha¡tch,¡± the dragon agreed.
¡°Question: When you hatch?¡±
¡°Fifty¡two¡years ago,¡± the dragon answered.
Pryce stared, unblinking.
¡°¡Question?¡± He asked upon seeing Pryce freeze up.
¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± Pryce said automatically before he realized the dragon wouldn¡¯t understand those words. ¡°Fifty-two years ago?¡± he checked, and received a nod in response.
¡°Question: When you hatch?¡± The dragon asked.
¡°Uh¡fifty years ago,¡± Pryce said.
The dragon snorted before saying, ¡°You some.¡±
Pryce frowned, trying to puzzle out what the dragon meant. He had taught him that ¡®some¡¯ was used when a lesser amount existed, so the dragon was calling him¡small? Little? Young? Pryce dismissed that thought; no one would have ever called him young, particularly when he had even more grey hairs than usual after his recent ordeals. Besides, it didn¡¯t make sense given that the dragon was only two years older than him.
The dragon in question seemed to perceive his confusion, and pointed at the small dragon coming from the egg. ¡°Question: some?¡±
¡°Answer: dragon hatch one year ago is young, no some,¡± Pryce said, hopefully that would clarify things. The dragon made a nodding motion in response, so Pryce went on to ask, ¡°No young is old, when old dragon hatch?¡±
¡°¡Old dragon¡old dragon four hundred, five hundred years ago hatch.¡±
¡°What.¡± Pryce said involuntarily.
¡°Old dragon four hundred years ago or five hundred years ago is hatch,¡± the dragon tried again, mistaking the source of his confusion.
Pryce shook his head and sketched out the draconic number for four hundred and five hundred to check if he wasn¡¯t mistaken, and the dragon nodded his confirmation.
¡°Young dragon make egg, how long ago hatch? More than what years?¡± Pryce tried, wondering just how long it took for dragons to reach sexual maturity. Was the one he was talking to an adult, or just an adolescent? Pryce was fairly certain ¨C and hoped ¨C that the dragon wasn¡¯t a child.
¡°Young dragon make egg, is hatch ten years ago,¡± the dragon answered easily.
Pryce nodded, it was a reasonable amount of time to mature, though dragons must grow quite explosively in those ten years.
Now that he thought about it, referring to the dragon as ¡®The Dragon¡¯ was getting annoying. Hopefully he¡¯d accept a name that Pryce could pronounce. He sketched several more dragons into the sand. ¡°Dragons¡± he said as he gestured broadly at the sand-dragons. Then he pointed at the dragon questioningly.
¡°Huroumh-?,¡± the dragon answered, a strange wordless noise that Pryce could not even begin to approximate using the alphabet. Time to see if the dragon would accept a new name.
¡°Fathom,¡± he said, pointing at the dragon.
He had spent perhaps too much time thinking of a suitable name, but the first dragon to talk to a human deserved a good name. At first, he thought of naming him after mythical dragons or ones in popular stories, but that would be confusing if he ever introduced the dragon to other humans. Those names also tended to be a little too ostentatious, but on the other hand most human names felt a bit bland to be suitable for a dragon. Drake sounded cool enough, but he didn¡¯t consider the name because he had some naming sense.
So in the end he decided on Fathom. It had naval connotations, which suited the dragon¡¯s dark blue scales, and it meant ¡®six-feet¡¯, which referred to the obsolete system of measurement, but it also had a double meaning since dragons were hexapeds, and ¡®Fathom¡¯ also meant understanding, which the dragon certainly had an aptitude for-
¡°Huroumh-?,¡± the dragon said.
¡°¡Fathom,¡± Pryce repeated, thinking the dragon misunderstood.
¡°Huroumh-?,¡± the dragon said stubbornly.
¡°Fathom,¡± Pryce said, more forcefully this time.
¡°Huroumh-?,¡± the dragon hissed, neck spines flaring out.
Pryce held his hands up placatingly as he considered his options. The dragon seemed sensible enough, but he didn¡¯t want to upset him. For all Pryce knew names were sacred in their culture or something.
If he was so insistent on keeping his name, maybe it was time for some persuasion.
¡°Fathom¡take mirror?¡± Pryce wheedled.
¡°Huroumh-? take mirror,¡± the dragon said obstinately.
¡°Pryce no make Huroumh-click,¡± Pryce said in equal parts exasperation and desperation, he really didn¡¯t want to keep using a word that he couldn¡¯t even pronounce.
The dragon glared at him for a few moments while Pryce resisted the urge to look away from the baleful gaze. ¡°¡Fah¡thm take mirror,¡± he grumbled, breaking eye contact as he accepted the name.
Pryce silently celebrated this success until Fathom whipped his head around and jabbed a talon at Pryce. ¡°Gharum,¡± Fathom said.
Pryce blinked, then pointed at himself questioningly.
¡°Gharum,¡± Fathom affirmed.
¡°Gharum?¡±
¡°Gharum,¡± Fathom agreed, sitting down with a satisfied air.
Pryce wasn¡¯t sure what to think about getting a nickname, but he supposed it was fair. He did wonder what it meant, and suspected it was something derogatory or at least a little insulting.
While Pryce was puzzled over this unexpected development, Fathom sketched something into the sand while periodically glancing at him. Pryce examined his drawing and saw that it was a group of humans¡or at least he was pretty sure that¡¯s what it was. Each human looked something like an H with a circle on top and arms at the shoulders.
Resisting the urge to fix the sketched humans to get back at Fathom, he instead drew several stickmen like the ones seen on bathroom doors.
¡°Dragon,¡± Fathom said as he gestured to the sketch of dragons, then he gestured to the stickmen. ¡°Question?¡±
Ah, he was asking for what humans called themselves.
Deciding not to correct the dragon for now, Pryce pointed at one stickman. ¡°Human,¡± He said. ¡°Humans,¡± he emphasized while waving the rod at all of the stickmen.
¡°Hue-mahns,¡± Fathom said, shifting their wings a bit. Pryce couldn¡¯t tell what that meant, but it did remind him to ask what had happened.
¡°Question: Wing wound, raptor make?¡± Pryce asked, meaning to ask why the dragon had been fighting raptors.
¡°Yes,¡± Fathom said, evidently confused by Pryce asking the same thing. He probably should¡¯ve taught the word for ¡®how¡¯ and ¡®why¡¯, but he got distracted and went off topic several times today¡though in fairness those were difficult concepts to convey.
¡°Fly,¡± Pryce said, pointing at the dragon¡¯s wings. Fathom looked confused, so he flapped his arms to get the idea across. He snorted at Pryce¡¯s silly actions, but seemed to get the idea and made a weak flapping motion to communicate that he understood.
¡°Question: how fly?¡± Pryce asked, flapping his arms, and pointing at the dragon¡¯s wings. ¡°Answer: Wings,¡± Pryce said, answering his own question so the dragon could get what ¡®how¡¯ meant.
Fathom cocked his head, either thinking or confused, so Pryce continued. ¡°Question: How raptor make wound?¡±
¡°Answer: Talons,¡± Fathom said, bringing up a foreclaw and flexing the claws.
Pryce grunted in frustration; it wasn¡¯t Fathom¡¯s fault, but he had hoped the dragon would elaborate on the why since he wasn¡¯t really sure how to teach the meaning of that word.
Deciding to give him a demonstration, Pryce picked up a spare piece of cloth. ¡°Cloth,¡± he said before dunking it into the ocean. ¡°Cloth take water,¡± he explained as he wrung the cloth, squeezing the water out. ¡°Question: Why cloth take water? Answer: Ocean.¡±
He was able to find a small clam on the beach after a minute of searching. ¡°Clam,¡± he said, pointing at the mollusk he had laid on a flat rock. Then he grabbed a hammer and smashed the shell open. ¡°Kill,¡± Pryce said. ¡°Pryce kill clam. Question: Why Fathom kill raptors?¡± He asked, hoping that Fathom would understand ¡®why¡¯ from the context if nothing else.
¡°Raptors¡¡± Fathom said, trailing off. ¡°Raptors¡kill Gharum, Fathom kill raptors.¡±
That didn¡¯t make sense, raptors hadn¡¯t killed him. The obvious answer was that Fathom didn¡¯t have the words to voice his thoughts, so he did the best he could¡but did that mean he killed raptors because they tried to kill Pryce?
¡°Raptors try to kill Gharum,¡± Pryce corrected, unsure of how to feel about his hypothesis.
¡°Raptors try,¡± Fathom agreed, an unusual lilt to his voice. Was that humor, or something else?
¡°Wait,¡± Pryce said, holding up a finger. He went back inside the ship and entered the med bay to retrieve some topical antibiotic, washing his hands and popping a pill of penicillin as he did so; he had a headache and felt the symptoms of a light fever, that was definitely a problem he wanted nipped in the bud.
¡°Pryce take wing,¡± he said as he stepped back onto the beach, though Fathom looked askance at his request.
¡°Pryce see wing?¡± He tried, approaching the limb. Fathom kept his wary gaze on him, but didn¡¯t move away. He unscrewed the tube and squeezed out a bit of ointment onto his fingertip. Fathom craned his long neck over and sniffed at the ointment, then rapidly drew his head and wing back with a hiss.
Pryce sighed and walked over to sit down on a stone, then took his coat off to gingerly unwrap the bandages on his shoulder. Some of the wound was in the process of scabbing, and had stuck itself to the bandages, making the removal an unpleasant process. When he was done, Pryce carefully wetted a clean rag to clean the wound. Once he was satisfied with the state of the injury and that none of the stitches had come out, he carefully rubbed the ointment over the gash. It was an antibiotic and a topical anesthetic, so it would keep the wound from getting infected and help numb the injury.
When he was done, he wrapped the injury with fresh bandages and stood to look at Fathom, who was still staring at him with a wary eye. Pryce rolled his eyes and poked at his wound and dramatically cried out in pain. ¡°¡This is pain,¡± he said, standing up and pointing at the tube of ointment. ¡°This make pain less.¡±
Fathom didn¡¯t immediately respond, but slowly lowered his wing. Pryce took that as permission and washed his hands before moving to apply the ointment. He picked a clean wet rag and reached out to gently ¨C
Fathom hissed in pain, making Pryce jump.
¡°I haven¡¯t even touched you yet!¡± He snapped, too exasperated to bother finding the right words in their limited vocabulary. Fathom seemed to realize the same thing even without understanding what Pryce said, and grumbled as he relaxed a bit.
Pryce quickly but gently washed the wound, cleaning out the dust as best as he could without causing much harm. As he cleaned the injury he noticed the wing was warm; not very surprising, cold blooded creatures didn''t have high metabolisms and he doubted one could ever fly.
Once he was satisfied with the preparations he placed a dab of ointment onto his finger and gently rubbed the gash in the wing, ignoring Fathom¡¯s various noises of discomfort. The wing had a strange texture; the thin scales weren¡¯t exactly fixed in place, but slid over each other like segmented armor. Most of the wing was covered in these very fine scales that were smooth in one direction and rough in the other, but more interestingly some scales were significantly larger and thicker around the edges than the others, almost like a ring. These thicker scales were spaced out in a regular pattern much like a honeycomb if each corner was a thin scale and the center was a thick scale.
He also noticed that the initial gash seemed to be smaller than the current one; the scabbing was thicker in the center of the gash, while the edges were thinner. The tear had probably grown like the rip in a piece of clothing, but what was most interesting was the fact that both ends of the wound ended in the middle of a thick scale.
The structure reminded him of a stophole; a technique used to stop a crack by drilling a hole at the ends of the crack to distribute the stress. Wings were flexible things, so holes wouldn¡¯t work to stop tears; instead dragons seemed to have evolved specific scales that were thin at the center and thick around the edges so that when one edge of the scale was broken, the scale would work to distribute the stress and prevent the tear from growing.
What confused Pryce was how the tear seemed to expand from the initial slash and meander into a ring-scale. Perhaps the structure of the tissue encouraged rips in the wing membrane to lead to a ring-scale, or perhaps the structure of those scales made it weak to tensile forces and strong against compressive ones, which would stop the rip when the ring-scale cracked open.
It filled Pryce with wonder to see such an elegant feature in a living creature - assuming his hypothesis was correct, of course, but the evidence seemed pretty strong.
The basic medical treatment was over quite quickly, but the scientist in him couldn¡¯t resist measuring the wound ¨C which was 10 centimeters in length ¨C and taking a few pictures of it. It had the fortunate excuse of being useful in observing the healing process. Who knew when he¡¯d next be able to treat a dragon¡¯s wound? Having some baseline of their rate of healing would be incredibly useful for future diagnosis.
¡°Done,¡± Pryce said, taking a few steps back. He didn¡¯t bother with a bandage; there was nothing to wrap, and any adhesive bandages would fall off or hinder his flight.
Fathom flicked his wings cautiously, then flexed his wings fully for a few moments. ¡°Pain¡less?¡± He said, sounding almost uncertain.
Pryce yawned, noting that the sun was quite low now, and was amused to see Fathom yawn in response. Interesting, that made dragons the third known species that could be affected by contagious yawning ¨C in addition to people and dogs, of course.
Pryce pointed at the sun and said, ¡°Sunset,¡± he pointed in the opposite direction and said, ¡°Sunrise.¡±
¡°Sunset,¡± Fathom agreed, then seemed to remember something as he leaned in more closely. ¡°Gharum no forest, forest kill Gharum.¡±
¡°¡Yes, understand.¡± Pryce said, warily glancing at the forest. Fathom had apparently scared off the raptors yesterday, what other dangers were in the forest?
¡°See Gharum, sunrise,¡± Fathom added, before gathering the bag of salt and the mirror in his foreclaws.
¡°Wait!¡± Pryce shouted, remembering to bring out a broken red ceramic cup that he had found in the galley. It wasn¡¯t a mirror, but he hoped Fathom would understand the two were similar. ¡°This,¡± he said, holding out the glass, ¡°is ceramic, is like glass. Mirror is glass.¡± He brought an iron rod down on the broken glass cup, shattering it to pieces and making Fathom flick his spines back in displeasure. ¡°Ceramic is fragile, Glass is fragile, mirror is fragile,¡± Pryce warned.
Fathom looked at the ceramic shards, his head drooping. Pryce wondered if the dragon thought it was a shame to destroy something he thought was pretty. ¡°Yes,¡± he finally said, then waved Pryce off before leaping into the air, flapping his wings strenuously. It seemed like he put a lot less power into his hind legs than the first time Pryce had seen him take off, probably to avoid damaging his precious cargo.
Still, Pryce shielded himself with his good arm, and held his breath until the miniature sandstorm settled. Spitting out a few grains of sand, he watched as the navy-blue dragon slowly shrunk into the distance.
[JOURNAL ENTRY]
I¡¯m glad to report that today was very productive.
I managed to teach many words and concepts to the dragon ¨C who with some difficulty has agreed to the nickname ¡®Fathom¡¯. He is an exceptionally quick learner and has learned words and concepts at a ridiculous rate. It¡¯s like I¡¯m talking to one of those linguistic geniuses you hear of in the news once in a while.
Tomorrow, I plan to teach him more nouns, as well as pronouns which will make speech less tedious. I¡¯m already tired of referring to myself in the third person.
It is strange that dragons can see both UV and IR; I don''t know any creatures that can do that. I''m also not sure why they evolved to be able to see both UV and IR¡maybe they evolved to see raptors, or at least to see creatures with active camouflage?
I should think of some way to test the limits of dragon physiology, such as the range of frequencies they can hear and the exact wavelengths of light they can see (current conservative estimate: 330 nm ¨C 770 nm)
¡but I¡¯m too tired. I feel like a fever is coming on again, so I¡¯m going to take a dose of antibiotics every day for the next week. At least talking to Fathom is enjoyable and not physically demanding, so my body will have time to rest and recover.
I am going to sleep now.
Chapter 10, Day 30: More English
Pryce sat on the deck of the ship, working on his lesson plan under the light of the lantern. He¡¯d already collected the materials that he had planned to use and placed them in the cargo hold for easy access.
He worked until he realized he was writing more with the aid of sunlight than that of the lantern, so deep in thought was he that he did not realize this fact until the sun had fully risen over the horizon.
Pryce looked up at the rising sun, blinking the moisture from his eyes. When was the last time he had ever seen a sunrise? The one before him felt more beautiful than it should have been, causing him to wonder if the sunrise here was somehow different.
Perhaps the rotation of the Earth acted like a centrifuge, making the atmosphere at the equator denser? No, the barometer read a slightly lower than average pressure so that couldn¡¯t be the case, but perhaps there was a greater temperature gradient that could scatter light more effectively? Trying to compare this sunrise with those in his memory, he began to realize with growing discomfort that he could not recall a single distinct memory of him witnessing such an event in the past decade; the feeling that this sunrise might be different was an oddly distressing one.
Then he drew himself back to reality and stamped down his remorse. He should not feel regret, not for this.
He extinguished the lantern and continued planning under the light of the sun.
Pryce waited for the gusts of sand to abate before sliding down the rope.
¡°Hello, Fathom,¡± Pryce said with a wave, though Fathom only blinked in confusion.
¡Something to work on later, then.
¡°How is Fathom wing?¡± Pryce asked, pointing at the injured wing. Fathom looked at the wing but only looked more confused.
¡°How is wing?¡± He asked.
Pryce blinked a few times before realizing that he had taught ¡®how¡¯ as a question asking for a cause, if he thought about it then ¡®How is your wing?¡¯ didn¡¯t make much sense.
¡°Question: Wing pain, less? More?¡± Pryce tried instead.
¡°Wing pain more than¡one day ago¡sunset, less than two day ago.¡± Fathom said.
Despite his amazing memory, the dragon didn¡¯t use plurals this time. Maybe they didn¡¯t exist in his language? Pryce knew some human languages were like that, though in modern times everyone spoke English, though a few groups here and there still spoke their native tongues.
¡°Good,¡± Pryce said. ¡°Pryce see wing?¡±
This time Fathom extended his wing for inspection more readily, though he still seemed a bit hesitant. Pryce looked at the wound, it seemed better even at a cursory glance. Measuring the wound showed that it was still 10 centimeters, but Pryce thought the gash had closed some, and the color looked better. It was difficult to determine anything else without agitating the injury, so he took a few pictures in hopes that he would be able to compare later.
Then he stepped in front of Fathom¡¯s head to hold up some pebbles in his palm, ¡°How many stones?¡±
¡°Five,¡± Fathom said. Good, now that he knew what ¡®how many¡¯ meant¡
¡°How many days until wound is good?¡± Pryce asked, hoping the dragon would get his meaning.
Fathom cocked his head. ¡°Wound is good,¡± he said.
¡°Uh¡how many days until wound is like this wing?¡± He tried, pointing at the uninjured wing.
Fathom seemed to understand his meaning, and flicked his spines in thought. ¡°Fifteen days?¡± He said uncertainly.
¡°Good,¡± Pryce said. That was very fast, but it wasn¡¯t surprising that wings could heal quickly given how important they were. Now that pleasantries were out of the way, it was time for lessons to begin.
¡°I am Pryce,¡± Pryce said.
Fathom nodded.
¡°You are Fathom,¡± Pryce said.
Fathom slowly and reluctantly nodded, evidently still mulish over the name.
¡°You say, ¡®I am Fathom,¡¯¡± Pryce said, gesturing.
¡°I am Fathom¡you are Pryce¡?¡± He said with some reservation.
¡°Yes, good!¡± Pryce said. Fathom was definitely just copying the sentence structure here, but Pryce couldn¡¯t really think of a way to teach grammar conjugation in a sensible way with the limited vocabulary they had.
But he¡¯d need to teach the meaning of ¡®past¡¯, ¡®present¡¯, and ¡®future¡¯ for that. Good thing he taught the words he needed yesterday.
¡°Yes and no is opposites,¡± Pryce said. ¡°Opposites are like black and white, sunrise and sunset, you understand?¡±
¡°Yes¡I¡understand,¡± Fathom said. He had only heard it once from Pryce when the human had told him he understood the dangers of the forest, so Pryce was impressed to see him grasp the concept and apply it so quickly.
¡°Opposite of ¡®days ago¡¯ is ¡®days from now. One or more days ago is past, zero days ago is present, one or more days ahead is future.¡± Pryce was a little frustrated that there was no exact antonym of ¡®ago¡¯, so he¡¯d try to teach the past/present/future tenses now to clear things up.
Fathom blinked at this information, then asked, ¡°¡Is zero days from now present?¡±
¡°Yes!¡± Pryce said, even as he winced at the way he described the future as ¡®no ago¡¯.
¡°Days from now,¡± Fathom echoed, ¡°Days is sunrise, sunrise, now is now,¡± the dragon said, pointing a talon straight down. ¡°What is¡from?¡±
¡°From is¡¡± Pryce faltered, not having prepared to teach this concept. He pointed at the ship a few seconds later. ¡°I from ship, you from sky,¡± Pryce said.
Fathom mulled this over for a few moments before answering, ¡°From¡from now¡understand.¡±
¡°Good,¡± Pryce said. ¡°You wing is good fifteen days from now, yes?¡± Pryce asked, just to be clear.
¡°Yes,¡± Fathom confirmed with a bob of his head.
Pryce rubbed his eyes, communicating was a lot of work.
Pryce already taught Fathom about nouns and the concept of time, which covered most of the five W¡¯s, the only two left were ¡®Where¡¯ and ¡®Why¡¯. The latter was a more difficult concept to convey, so he decided to work on ¡®Where¡¯ first.
¡°This is seashell,¡± he stated while pointing down at a seashell. Then he tossed said shell a few meters away. ¡°Question: Where is seashell? Answer: Seashell is there,¡± he said, pointing at the shell¡¯s new location.
¡°Where am I?¡± He quizzed, leaving the question open ended to see how the dragon would answer.
¡°There?¡± Fathom asked, pointing at him.
¡°¡Yes,¡± Pryce said. That was the obvious answer and the only sensible one given the words they shared, but he had hoped for a little more explanation, maybe something about the island, or it¡¯s name.
Now that he thought about it, he wasn¡¯t sure how much dragons knew of the world. If they were all as smart as Fathom, then they should definitely know Earth was round. Ancient humans had calculated the circumference of the Earth over two thousand years ago to an error of less than two percent.
¡°I am here,¡± Pryce said, pointing to the ground beneath himself, ¡°I go there,¡± he said, pointing at a rock on the beach and then moving to stand on top of it. ¡°I am here,¡± he said, finishing.
¡°I¡am here, you are there?¡± Fathom said, pointing at the ground and then at Pryce.
¡°Yes!¡± Pryce exclaimed, then paused. Their exchange had just given him an idea.
Pryce spent a few more hours teaching Fathom common verbs and nouns ¨C They would need more sophisticated language to talk about anything important but fortunately the dragon was still improving at an astounding rate.
Fathom would also need to know directions for what Pryce had planned, but teaching those was easy. Fathom quickly learned North, East, South, West, forward, backward, left, right, up, and down, so Pryce taught him more descriptive nouns like big, small, long, tall, short, inside, out, on, off, open, close, top, bottom, side, fast, slow, and various others. The hardest thing to teach was the word ¡®word¡¯, but Fathom grasped the concept after Pryce gave a few examples of random singular words.
Then Pryce excused himself to go and quickly nab one of the largest portable maps he had of this island, then laid out the one-meter square map onto the beach. ¡°Map,¡± he said, stepping back to let Fathom peruse the image.
Fathom squinted at what was for him a small map. ¡°No¡understand?¡± he said after a minute.
Pryce hummed in thought. He wasn¡¯t really expecting him to grasp what it was without elaboration; the concept of a map is strange for one who has never heard of it.
¡°¡®I¡¯ and ¡®you¡¯ is ¡®we¡¯, and we¡are here,¡± Pryce said, pointing at the mark he had drawn on the map.
Fathom blinked uncomprehendingly.
Pryce hummed in thought for a moment, it was a pity the imagery wasn¡¯t in color, that only made things more confusing. ¡°North, east, south, west,¡± he said, pointing at the cardinal directions with his hand on the map. ¡°This is ocean; salt water,¡± he said while pointing at the light grey area around the island and then at the ocean right next to him.
Fathom looked back and forth from map to ocean, evidently thinking. Pryce pointed at the long dark mass and said, ¡°land,¡± while pointing at the forest behind him.
Fathom inhaled; a shuddering noise that briefly alarmed Pryce before the dragon asked, ¡°Camera make this? This is photo?¡±
¡°Yes!¡± Pryce grinned widely, both at the dragon¡¯s realization and the fact that he was starting to make his own sentences. He obviously understood him, but he was also often copying Pryce¡¯s sentence structure. Learning to formulate his own sentences was great to hear.
Fathom drew his head back and looked up at the sky, then back down at Pryce¡¯s short stature. ¡°How you make photo? I no fly up like this,¡± Fathom said, a strange note in his voice that Pryce couldn¡¯t discern.
¡°¡humans make camera fly up?¡± Pryce said, aware that this would be quite confusing from the dragon¡¯s perspective.
¡°Camera¡fly?¡± Fathom asked, looking at said device doubtfully.
¡°This camera no fly, different thing fly,¡± Pryce tried.
Pryce sighed, not having to look at Fathom¡¯s face to know that didn¡¯t make sense. Not having the words to explain how satellites worked. He had an idea, but that required the globe in the wheelhouse. He was getting really tired of fetching things from inside the ship.
¡°Globe,¡± he told Fathom. He spun the globe on the axis to show him how it worked, the dragon was watching with wide shining eyes. Then he reached out to the globe, talons gleaming ¨C
¡°No!¡± Pryce hurriedly interposed himself between talon and globe, trying to think of how to communicate that something was fragile. ¡°Like glass!¡± He exclaimed, which wasn¡¯t exactly true, but he knew when to compromise between truth and utility.
Fathom slowly pulled his arm back, his head drooping.
Pryce rubbed his neck awkwardly. Why did he feel like he just took a toy from a kid? ¡°Here,¡± he said in a gentler tone as he brought the globe closer. Fathom reached out slowly, and Pryce grabbed the base of a talon ¨C not without apprehension, it was over 20 centimeters long and serrated ¨C and guided it so Fathom brushed the globe with his knuckle, lightly spinning it.
He let the dragon play with the globe for a few moments, then realized he should take a photo. Fathom was too preoccupied with spinning his new toy to pay attention to the whirring and clicking of the cameras, or perhaps he simply didn¡¯t care.
¡°Hey, Fathom¡Fathom!¡± Pryce called, the dragon looking up at the second repetition. ¡°Give globe to me,¡± he said. Fathom reluctantly pushed the globe over to Pryce, who spun it until he arrived at the island they were on. Humanity didn¡¯t know what the island looked like, so the island drawn on the globe was a blurry shape much like the one in the satellite imagery.
¡°We are here,¡± Pryce said, showing Fathom the globe, then let him spin it around as he inspected the other parts of the globe.
¡°¡Land is small, small,¡± Fathom said after a few moments, which made Pryce chuckle. He remembered seeing ancient maps of the world that depicted the mainland as several times larger than it was in reality. Evidently, it is only natural for sapient people to believe themselves to be a big part of the world.
¡°Correction: Small small is ¡®very¡¯ small,¡± Pryce explained, might as well get that one out of the way so they wouldn¡¯t have to keep repeating words to emphasize¡emphasis.
¡°Land is very small,¡± Fathom said. ¡°Question: This map is good?¡±
¡°Map is good. Correction: Map is correct.¡±
Fathom tilted his head slowly, Pryce assumed it was something like discomfort, which was understandable given how he had just learnt his whole world was actually just a sliver of an island, estimated to be no more than 1.4 million square kilometers of the world¡¯s total 510 million square kilometers.
¡°¡what is this land?¡± Fathom asked, pointing at the island south of Alternis.
¡°I do not know. Humans from Mainland,¡± he said, pointing at the island in question. ¡°30 days ago, humans here on mainland, 20 days ago, I here,¡± he said, tracing their route from the Mainland to Alternis. ¡°What is name of this land?¡± Pryce asked, realizing he hadn¡¯t asked that yet.
¡°Land is land, land no have name.¡± Fathom said, looking at Pryce oddly.
¡Alright, fair enough. Pryce would¡¯ve liked to ask about the reasoning behind that, but it sounded like the dragons simply didn¡¯t see a need to name something they thought was completely unique.
¡°Question: Human¡this land?¡± Fathom asked, pointing at the westmost island again.
¡°No humans on this land,¡± Pryce answered.
¡°How humans go from mainland to here?¡± Fathom asked, squinting down at Pryce in disbelief.
A little offended, Pryce focused on explaining how the ship worked, ¡°Ship¡fly-¡±
¡°Ship fly?!¡± Fathom hissed, looking up alarmingly at the massive 50-meter-long steel vessel.
¡°No, no, uh¡¡± Pryce stammered, picked up a stick and tossed it onto the waves, ¡°Stick. Stick float,¡± he said. ¡°Ship here thirty days ago,¡± he pointed at the mainland. ¡°Ship float on water, come here, I here in present,¡± he explained, tracing a line with his finger.
Fathom paused to process this, his gaze fixed on the largest landmass on the map before suddenly blurting out, ¡°You-go-here-in-future?¡± He asked in a rush, jabbing a talon perilously close to the massive unnamed island to the west of Alternis, estimated to have a surface area of seven million square kilometers.
Pryce stared, bemused. That island was about 3,000 kilometers away from Alternis; how could he possibly know of it? ¡°No go in future,¡± Pryce said. At least he had no plans to, he probably could go to the island with how much fuel he had left, but why would he?
¡°I fly there,¡± Fathom said, standing up as his wings trembled with palpable excitement.
¡°No! Island very¡¡± Pryce sighed, he was really tired of running out of words. ¡°This is one meter,¡± he said, laying a tape measurer on the beach and pointing at the end and the one meter mark. ¡°Ten tens is one hundred, you understand?¡± When Fathom reluctantly settled down to nod, he went on to explain, ¡°Ten hundreds is one thousand, one thousand meters is a kilometer.¡± Pryce said slowly, looking at Fathom to see if he understood.
Fathom slowly tilted his head, thinking.
Pryce drew what he believed would be one thousand on the beach just in case:
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¡°One thousand,¡± Pryce said, and Fathom made a strange rumble. A sound of understanding? ¡°Understand?¡± Pryce asked to be certain.
¡°Understand,¡± Fathom said.
¡°One thousand meters,¡± Pryce said, pointing at the one-meter marking on the tape measurer again, ¡°is one kilometer. This,¡± he said, pointing at the westmost island ¨C he should probably name it something, to hell with the ¡®person who discovers it gets to name¡¯ it crap ¨C ¡°is three thousand kilometers from here.¡±
Fathom grumbled, shifting his wings and glancing to the south ¨C evidently undeterred.
Pryce sighed, then returned to the map of Alternis. ¡°Where you fly in one day from here?¡± Pryce asked, trying a different tactic.
Fathom leaned forward, looking at the map with an air of uncertainty. ¡°¡here?¡± He said, pointing at the map.
Pryce marked the further location the dragon had pointed out, and measured the distance and compared it to the scale bar. Fathom could fly around a thousand kilometers in a day? That averaged to a little under 42 kilometers per hour for 24 hours ¨C quite the feat if the dragon wasn¡¯t boasting. Pryce knew some birds had been recorded to fly a few thousand kilometers in a day, so it wasn¡¯t impossible.
Pryce suspected that thermals and winds were even more important factors for a dragon, who likely relied on air currents to fly efficiently and conserve energy.
¡°How long can you fly? How many days no land?¡± Pryce asked, wishing he had the word for stop.
¡°No land?¡± The dragon blinked, not comprehending.
¡°How many days you fly, no stop fly?¡± Pryce tried.
¡°One day and some?¡± Fathom said.
Pryce rubbed his eyes, realizing he had forgotten fractions.
He taught Fathom fractions by using a piece of paper and cutting it into fractions, and as expected the dragon understood the concept with ease.
¡°One and a half day.¡± Fathom replied confidently when Pryce questioned him again. One day and a half meant that dragons could fly around one thousand five hundred kilometers without stopping.
¡°The distance from here,¡± Pryce said, pointing at Alternis, ¡°to here,¡± pointing at the western island, ¡°is three thousand kilometers. You only fly one thousand five hundred kilometers.¡±
¡°¡Distance on map is very small. No like 3,000 kilometers,¡± Fathom said obstinately.
Pryce smiled despite himself ¨C the exchange reminded him of a certain child learning about maps for the first time. He pulled out the first photo of the dragon and pointed at it. ¡°You are very small in photo,¡± Pryce said pointedly.
Fathom looked away and grumbled something that Pryce suspected would be unintelligible even if he could hear and understand Draconic. A second or two later he looked back at the map, seeming to stare at the Mainland.
¡°You go here?¡± Fathom asked, pointing at the mainland.
Pryce took a few moments to try and understand what he meant. ¡°In past, humans want ship start here, go here, then here, then go back home,¡± Pryce explained. He knew he was using a few new words, but none of them were key words and his pointing should be easy to understand.
¡°Home?¡± Fathom asked inquisitively.
¡°Home is¡where you¡¡± Pryce trailed off lamely while Fathom stared expectantly at him. ¡°Sleep! Home is where you sleep,¡± Pryce said, relieved he had found a sensible answer.
¡°When no sun, do sleep. Sleep is this,¡± He laid down a tarp and curled into a ball, then closed his eyes and made light snoring noises. ¡°Home is where you sleep,¡± he finished, looking up to see if Fathom understood.
¡°¡understand?¡± Fathom said, then pointed at the ship, ¡°You home?¡±
¡°Yes, correct.¡±
Fathom was silent for a few more moments as he examined the map. ¡°This is¡you¡past home?¡±
¡°¡Yes.¡± Pryce said, ¡°¡old home.¡±
¡°You¡go home?¡±
¡°I¡¡± Pryce faltered, now knowing how to explain. He wasn¡¯t even sure what his odds of going back home were, he¡¯d tried to avoid contemplating the possibility that he would never see another person again. Did dragons count as people? Most dictionaries specified a person as a human being, but considering recent developments, Pryce felt that definition was a tad outdated.
¡°Ship no can go back,¡± He said, looking up at the dragon¡¯s curious gaze. He supposed it wouldn¡¯t be such a terrible fate to spend the rest of his life here; he would certainly never run out of things to study and learn. ¡°Some yes and some no is ¡®maybe¡¯¡maybe I go home many, many days in future.¡± Pryce said, face set in contemplation. ¡°Where is you home?¡± He asked curiously.
Fathom gestured west, towards the forest and mountains. ¡°Maybe five kilometers,¡± he said uncertainly.
Perhaps it was time to teach him about hours and minutes.
Pulling out a whiteboard, Pryce drew three large circles and split them into 24 segments. Introducing AM and PM was just asking for confusion, so he¡¯d go with 24-hour clocks, and the chronometer used the same format anyway.
Shading in half the first circle, a quarter of the second, and a 24
th of the third, Pryce said, ¡°half day, quarter day, twenty-fourth day,¡± he said as he pointed at each one. ¡°One twenty-fourth day is ¡®one hour¡¯, understand?¡±
¡°Yes.¡±
Pryce brought out the chronometer and opened the face so its ticking was more audible. ¡°You hear tick-tick-tick?¡± He asked, timing each ¡®tick¡¯ with the clock¡¯s ticks.
¡°What is this?¡± Fathom asked, eyes glued onto the shiny metal thing and ignoring the question.
¡°This is chronometer, complicated,¡± Pryce said, but held out the chronometer and turned it around for his inspection.
¡°¡Five-hundred thousand¡forty-two thousand, six hundred thirty nine?¡± Fathom read, startling Pryce. He hadn¡¯t realized that the dragon might read the engraving on the metal shell, and was taken aback for a moment. ¡°Yes, is five-hundred forty-two thousand, six-hundred thirty-nine.¡±
¡°What is this number?¡± Fathom asked. ¡°Is very big.¡±
¡°¡complicated,¡± Pryce said, grimacing.
¡°What is this?¡± Fathom asked, pointing at the text this time.
¡°Those are written words. Example: Spoken word is one, written word is this,¡± Pryce said, drawing a ¡®1¡¯ on the ground. Technically it was a numeral, but that was an unnecessary complication.
¡°What is this written words?¡± Fathom asked again.
¡°Words is ¡®Mk. 10 Wright Marine Chronometer¡¯, this is complicated.¡± Pryce said evasively. ¡°You hear tick-tick-tick?¡± He queried before Fathom could ask another question, hoping to change the subject.
¡°I hear tick-tick-tick,¡± Fathom said, nodding reluctantly but tapping one talon with the other in time with the chronometer.
¡°One tick is one ¡®second¡¯,¡± he explained. ¡°One. Two. Three. Four. Five ,¡± he counted along the ticks. ¡°Sixty seconds is one minute, sixty minutes is one hour.¡±
Fathom nodded, ¡°Is like dragon¡bum-bump.¡±
¡°¡bum-bump?¡± Pryce asked, confused. The sound he made was different from what Fathom made, which was a deep throaty noise that sounded like a¡
¡°Thing in here,¡± Fathom said, gesturing at his chest. ¡°Make bum-bump¡bum-bump...¡±
¡°Heartbeat,¡± Pryce said in realization as he tapped his chest where his own heart was. ¡°Thing in me is heart, bum-bump is heartbeat.¡±
¡°No, you bum-bump¡no like I bum-bump,¡± Fathom said cryptically.
¡°¡Question?¡± Pryce said, confused. How could a heartbeat be not like a heartbeat?
¡°Question: Heart?¡± Fathom asked.
¡°Heart is organ that make blood go. Organ is¡¡± Pryce said, trailing off as he realized he had preserved raptor organs the day before. ¡°Wait,¡± he said, dashing off into the ship.
A minute later he re-emerged, proudly holding a jar with a preserved raptor heart in it. ¡°Organ.¡±
Fathom looked at the shiny jar curiously. ¡°Food?¡±
¡°No food,¡± Pryce said, failing to come up with a way to explain the concept of preserving organs for scientific study. ¡°See organ,¡±
Fathom nodded understandingly, and Pryce suspected that the dragon mistook the jar as a trophy. ¡°Blood is red water in raptor, is in you, is in me,¡± he said.
¡°Understand blood.¡±
¡°Heart go bum-bump, make blood go fast,¡± Pryce reiterated.
¡°Some yes, not same,¡± Fathom insisted.
Tilting his head in confusion, Pryce stared at the dragon as he tried to wonder what he meant. Eventually he gave up and retrieved the stethoscope from the med bay.
¡°I use this on you chest, I hear bum-bump,¡± Pryce said, holding up the medical device and placing the bell against his own chest.
Fathom shuffled away nervously, eyes locked on the instrument. ¡°Pain?¡±
¡°No, no pain,¡± Pryce chuckled. ¡°You sit, I hear.¡±
Fathom settled down on all four legs a little warily, and Pryce closed his eyes as he pressed it up against his chest to focus on the heartbeat. The dragon visibly relaxed once he realized there was indeed no pain, making Pryce smile as he listened for a heartbeat.
Lu-lub-du-dub¡Lu-lub-du-dub¡Lu-lub-du-dub¡Lu-lub-du-dub¡
¡°Y-You have two hearts?¡± Pryce stammered.
¡°No.¡±
Oh, right, there was probably a more mundane explanation-
¡°I have three hearts.¡±
Pryce sat down heavily on a crate.
¡°Where?!¡± He asked a little faintly.
¡°Small heart, big heart, small heart,¡± Fathom said, tapping his upper chest, lower chest, and then pointed at his torso with a wingtip. ¡°You small, have one small heart,¡± he added.
Okay, now that he calmed down a little, it wasn¡¯t that weird for a creature to have three hearts, especially if two were smaller, secondary hearts and ¨C
¡°Wait, how you know I have one heart?¡±
¡°Wait?¡± Fathom asked, confused.
¡°Er¡Question: how you know I have one heart?¡± Pryce corrected, reminding himself not to use informal phrasing.
¡°I hear you heart beat,¡± Fathom said, unfurling his great wings in a strange, conical way.
¡°Oh,¡± Pryce breathed in realization, it was like an ear trumpet! The wings must funnel sound waves straight to his head, which had to have organs responsible for hearing somewhere ¨C maybe they were internal?
¡°How you hear? Human hear with ear,¡± Pryce said, turning his head and pointing at an ear.
Fathom flared out the spines along his jaw and pointed his head down, allowing Pryce to see the spines that extended from his jaw, with webbing that stretched from spine to spine much like a small frill.
Pryce wondered how much the dragon¡¯s hearing capabilities were diminished when the spines were flattened against his neck. Eardrums had to remain taut to sense vibrations, so he doubted Fathom could hear very well at all if the spines were lying flat¡but maybe that was an advantage, being able to protect their own hearing? A dragon¡¯s roar was quite deafening, after all.
¡°There is four bum-bump,¡± Fathom said unexpectedly.
¡°A fourth heart?¡± Pryce asked incredulously.
¡°No heart, is¡no heart,¡± Fathom said with a shrug of his wings.
Something that beats like a heart but isn¡¯t a heart¡there wasn¡¯t anything like that in the human body. Lungs didn¡¯t beat, and sure some other organs contracted, but not regularly. He was completely stumped.
¡°What fourth bum-bump organ make?¡± Pryce asked.
¡°Make¡small sun,¡± Fathom said.
What?
¡°What?¡± Pryce asked.
¡°Dragon no make small sun, four bum-bump go slow. Dragon make small sun, four bum-bump go fast,¡± he explained, which didn¡¯t help Pryce understand in the slightest.
¡°¡what is small sun?¡± Pryce asked, even more confused now.
Fathom craned his head around and picked up a stick on the beach to flick his tongue at, then tossed it away to pick up another. He did this several more times before he was evidently satisfied.
The dragon held the stick up to his muzzle, exhaled, then shut his mouth with a snap and pop ¨C
¡°Holy shit,¡± Pryce gasped as the air distorted as the branch caught fire. Fathom stuck one end of the stick into the beach, the small flame flickering weakly as it fed on the branch.
Pryce stared at the flame with wide eyes, baffled by what he had just seen ¨C or rather, what he hadn¡¯t. There was no color to the flame that Fathom spat out, only a jet of rippling gas like air over asphalt on a hot summer day. Whatever fueled the dragon¡¯s fire burned in wavelengths of light invisible to the human eye.
And he only knew one gas that burned like that.
Hydrogen.
Hydrogen was notoriously dangerous for two reasons; because it was so flammable, and because it was practically invisible in daylight. Even in complete darkness hydrogen flames would only burn a dim blue because most of the emitted light was in the UV and IR wavelengths of light, beyond what humans could perceive. Pryce didn¡¯t know what exact ranges the wavelengths were ¨C he didn¡¯t have that much obscure knowledge ¨C but he¡¯d bet that the ranges of light that dragons could see would cover the emission spectra of hydrogen flame quite well.
Meanwhile Fathom stared bemused as Pryce paced back and forth on the beach, muttering to himself.
¡°Gharum,¡± the dragon called out, breaking Pryce out of his thoughts. ¡°You no have small sun?¡±
¡°¡no¡?¡± Pryce said, still not sure what he meant.
¡°Sun,¡± Fathom said, pointing at the sun. ¡°Small sun,¡± he said, pointing at the burning torch.
¡°Fire?¡± Pryce said reflexively, then smacked his head in realization. It wasn¡¯t uncommon for even a modern human to believe the sun was a massive ball of fire, so it wasn¡¯t a stretch for a language to name the sun something along the lines of ¡®great fire¡¯. He doubted fire was called ¡®lesser sun¡¯, Fathom probably just called it that because Pryce hadn¡¯t taught him the word for fire yet.
¡°Fire,¡± Pryce said as he pointed at the torch, then pointed at the sun ¨C
¡°Sun is ¡®Big Fire¡¯,¡± Fathom said before Pryce could ask.
¡°Understand,¡± Pryce replied, satisfied that he had guessed correctly, ¡°Sun is ¡®Big Fire¡¯ in dragon words...dragon words name is draconic.¡±
Fathom cocked his head. ¡°Is¡humanic human words?¡±
¡°Er¡No, human words is English.¡±
¡°What is¡English?¡± Fathom asked, flicking his spines.
¡°Complicated,¡± Pryce shrugged.
¡°English no good,¡± Fathom huffed.
¡°Yes,¡± Pryce chuckled, unable and unwilling to argue.
Fathom gave him another strange look at that which Pryce couldn¡¯t interpret, so instead he thought about what Fathom had said earlier¡
¡®Dragon no make small sun, four bum-bump go slow. Dragon make small sun, four bum-bump go fast.¡¯
So, dragons not making small sun (fire) means the fourth beating organ would pulse slowly, if dragons made fire, then the fourth beating organ would pulse quickly. So, the organ had something to do with how they make fire, which meant that it had to do with hydrogen production!
Pryce had no idea why the organ had to pulse to produce hydrogen, but it seemed that if a dragon didn¡¯t use fire, then the rate of beating was relatively consistent since the body wouldn¡¯t need to replenish its stores of hydrogen.
Why did dragons produce hydrogen? Pryce doubted the flame was more dangerous than their talons or teeth, it had to have a utility. Hydrogen was much lighter than air, so maybe dragons used sacs of hydrogen to aid in lift like a living zeppelin?
What he wanted to know most was how the dragon¡¯s body made hydrogen, but even if he knew the words to ask Fathom for details, he didn¡¯t think dragons would know their own biology well enough to accurately explain what that organ did. Even human medicine had accepted germ theory about a century ago.
¡°Word for fourth bum-bump organ is ¡®hydrogen heart, one hydrogen heartbeat is a ¡®beat¡¯,¡± Pryce said.
¡°Understand,¡± Fathom nodded.
¡°And no, humans no have fire,¡± Pryce said.
¡°No fire,¡± Fathom said, tilting his head forward a little in a gesture Pryce wasn¡¯t sure how to decipher, but he was leaning towards sympathy¡? It wouldn¡¯t be surprising if fire held a significant meaning in their culture. Pryce could only imagine what it would be like if humans could spit fire. Deciding not to waste his thoughts on an uncertainty, Pryce moved returned to the previous subject.
¡°This is second,¡± Pryce said, repeating himself to let Fathom know they were back on the subject of time. ¡°Each day has 24 hours, each hour is 60 minutes, each minute is 60 seconds, there is 86,400 seconds in one day¡Question: seconds you fly home is what number?¡±
Fathom made a deep and resonant humming sound as he pondered the question, then cupped his wings around his head like he did before. ¡°312 seconds,¡± Fathom said after less than half a minute. Pryce stared at the oddly specific number, and Fathom elaborated at his apparent confusion. ¡°One hydrogen heartbeat is 12 seconds.¡±
It seemed that the hydrogen heart did beat very regularly if Fathom had remembered how many beats it took to fly from one place to another. Pryce thought it must be convenient, having a built-in chronometer.
He wondered how much time Fathom spent calculating seconds. First, he had to listen for the number of ticks from the start of one beat to the end of one beat (12 seconds per beat), then multiply the number of bum-bumps ¨C beats, Pryce mentally amended ¨C then multiply number of beats by 12, which Pryce calculated to be 26 after a few seconds. Fathom¡¯s mental math was quite impressive, especially given the lack of technology and science dragons had¡Pryce wanted badly to ask why dragons had math, but they didn¡¯t have the words to discuss that yet.
¡°You fly home, 26 beats?¡± Pryce asked.
¡°I go home, fly 26 beats,¡± Fathom confirmed.
¡°Where other dragons?¡± Pryce asked, gesturing to his quick sketch of several dragons in the sand. He hoped to get some insight on their culture.
¡°¡I have land,¡± Fathom said after thinking for a moment. ¡°Other dragons no have land here,¡±
¡°Territory,¡± Pryce said. ¡°Land you have is your territory.¡±
¡°I territory,¡± Fathom said with his head held high, the dramatic effect ruined a little by the infantile grammar.
That answered one question, but that only furthered Pryce¡¯s confusion. If dragons were territorial, why would they have language? Why invent math? Everything he learnt about dragons just led to more confusing questions; it would be frustrating if Pryce wasn¡¯t already fascinated.
¡°I¡in your territory?¡± Pryce asked hesitantly. Fathom hadn¡¯t shown any real hostility or territorial aggression to him yet. He assumed it was because he wasn¡¯t a dragon, and thus wasn¡¯t a real threat to him and his territory.
¡°Yes,¡± Fathom said, flicking his nictitating membranes at Pryce as he did so. Pryce suspected that particular ¡®gesture¡¯ denoted dismissiveness. It was probably an obvious question.
¡°My territory?¡± Pryce asked, pointing at the ship.
¡°¡¡± Fathom gave The Horizon an intense look; the same look he had when he saw the machete and mirror¡the look he had when he saw something he liked and wanted. Pryce nervously began to wonder if he had said something he should not have as the silence continued to grow.
¡°My territory, you territory,¡± Fathom finally said begrudgingly as he waved a wing at the land behind him and pointed a talon at The Horizon.
Pryce exhaled, relieved and a little amused. It was comforting to see that even if dragons liked shiny things very much, they still had a moral compass¡or at least some reason why they wouldn¡¯t just take anything they wanted.
Fathom glanced away while Pryce mused over his thoughts, looking at the lowering sun in the sky. The sun was behind the mountains by now, but Pryce followed his gaze to see the brilliant crimson light scattering through the sky
[1], outlining the mountains in molten red.
¡°Sunset is beautiful,¡± Pryce said.
¡°Sunset is red?¡± Fathom said, confused.
Pryce chuckled. ¡°Yes, is red. Beautiful is¡thing you like see,¡± Pryce said, belatedly realizing how confusing it would be to hear that ¡®like¡¯ the comparison and ¡®like¡¯ the preference were pronounced the same way. ¡°Shiny things are beautiful, like sky, like sunset, like mirror, and like machete,¡± Pryce tried instead.
¡°¡Sunset is beautiful,¡± Fathom agreed. ¡°Question: You use make wound-pain less?¡±
¡°Oh, yes,¡± Pryce said, having forgotten about the injury. ¡°Wait, one minute,¡± he said as he retrieved the tube of ointment. ¡°Medicine,¡± Pryce said as he waved the tube around, then examined the wound. It was the same size as it was this morning, but he took a picture anyway before beginning his treatment.
Fathom bore it much better this time, perhaps because he knew what to expect. He made no noise other than what Pryce thought sounded like rumblings of discomfort.
¡°Done,¡± Pryce said, taking a step back and looking at Fathom as he glanced at the wound and nodded. ¡°You say, ¡®Thank you¡¯,¡± Pryce said.
¡°¡Say thank you?¡±
¡°¡Nevermind, take this,¡± Pryce said, and retrieved glass marble from his pockets before dropping it into Fathom¡¯s outstretched foreclaw.
¡°Marble,¡± Pryce said as Fathom brought the bauble up close to his face, his glossy black pupils so dilated that they looked much like giant marbles themselves. It was just a pretty thing made of glass that looked like a miniature version of the night sky, almost worthless, but quite beautiful. Pryce had bought it quite a few years ago to give as a gift, though he had never gotten the chance to do so.
He could see the reflected glint of the sunset reflected in the dragon¡¯s large eyes. Fathom tried to hold it between two talons to hold it up, but the smooth glass surface slipped out of his talons and landed on the sand with a thud.
¡°Wait,¡± Pryce said as he left to get a common cloth bag from the ship.
¡°Marble,¡± he said as he held out a hand. Fathom had picked up the marble in his absence and was in the process of admiring it. ¡°Marble,¡± he said more firmly, but Fathom only glanced at him with an obstinate noise.
Pryce sighed and opened the bag. ¡°Marble go in bag, you take bag,¡± he said, opening the bag for Fathom to drop the marble into.
But the dragon still refused to cooperate, so Pryce left the bag on the sand and took a few steps back. Only then did Fathom pinch the bag¡¯s handles then fumbled around with it for a few moments as he tried to get the marble in. Eventually he speared the two handles on two different talons to hold it open while he dropped the marble into the bag.
Stifling a chuckle, Pryce stepped back to a safe distance towards the ship and waved. ¡°See you, sunrise.¡±
The dragon returned the farewell and flew off, bag dangling from his right foreclaw¡reminding Pryce of a shopping bag. The thought of a dragon going shopping made him burst out laughing as he closed the ship¡¯s door.
He should definitely teach Fathom the word for ¡®tomorrow¡¯ tomorrow, it would make greetings and farewells much less awkward.
[JOURNAL ENTRY]
In my career it is expected that answers yield more questions, though that doesn¡¯t make me any more patient ¨C I have more questions than ever in spite of how much I¡¯ve learned, chief among them being: how do dragons make hydrogen?
It might be a similar adaptation as the one seen in spore pods, which produce hydrogen through unknown means and use it to float along wind currents. Attempts at growing these fungi in greenhouses were successful, but none ever produced hydrogen. A commonly held theory was that bacteria was responsible for making the hydrogen gas, and the hydrogen-producing bacteria that had hitched a ride in the spore pod had all died before it arrived at the Mainland.
I¡¯m quite certain I heard a spark when Fathom ignited his flame, and he even seemed to use it to punctuate some words. If this noise is indeed a spark, dragons must have some bioelectric ability.
If they do have the ability to generate electricity, could they use it to split water apart to make hydrogen? No, I don¡¯t even need to do the napkin math to show that the energy requirements would be insane¡but I¡¯m going to anyway.
|
Checking reference material, water requires 286 kJ/mol to dissociate without external heating, which I believe is a safe assumption to make.
I recall an electric eel has an output voltage and current of 600 volts and 1 amp, which gives 600 watts. The duration of the shock is only 2 milliseconds, which means each shock has only 1.2 joules of energy. Even if dragons had a million times more electrokinetic muscle than an electric eel, it would only produce 1.2 million joules of electricity, which works out to electrolyzing about 4.2 moles of water.
Electrolysis of water reaction: 2H2O => 2H2 + O2
So that means if 4.2 moles are electrolyzed, it becomes 4.2 moles of H2 and 2.1 moles of O2.
1 mole is 11.2[2] liters of an ideal gas, so 4.2 moles of H2 is 47.02 liters, or 0.047 m3.
Thanks to the textbooks I have, I know the equation for lift and the density of hydrogen at standard pressure:
volume = mass / (air density ¨C lifting gas density)
Rearrange to get:
mass = volume * (air density ¨C lifting gas density)
Plug in values:
mass = 0.047 m3 * (2.4 kg/m3 ¨C 0.17 kg/m3)
mass = 0.105 kg
|
47 liters would only be able to lift 105 grams.
Electrolysis is definitely impossible. Even if dragons have a far more effective way of producing bioelectricity that wouldn¡¯t close the gap in any significant way¡would it?
What if dragons used bacteria to make hydrogen the same way spore pods (are theorized to) do?
If the spore pods took advantage of hydrogen-producing bacteria to make hydrogen, then it wouldn¡¯t be unexpected for another organism in the same environment to do the same thing.
So, the question is: Can dragons store enough hydrogen to aid in flight?
For the sake of simplicity, I¡¯ll optimistically estimate that there¡¯s enough hydrogen gas in Fathom¡¯s body to fill a cube 3 meters long ¨C which means 27 cubic meters of volume.
Same equation:
| mass = 27 m3 * (2.45 kg/m3 ¨C 0.17 kg/m3)
mass = 61.56 kg |
An optimistic estimate results in hydrogen only able to lift 61.56 kilograms of mass.
Well, there goes that theory. 61.56 kg seems rather negligible compared to what I assume must be at least several thousand kilograms of mass, so we I can conclude that hydrogen is only really used for producing fire.
Either way this is an amazing case of mutualism. The bacteria get a nice safe place to live inside a dragon¡¯s body ¨C probably the hydrogen heart, and the dragon gets a slight weight reduction along with the ability to breathe fire.
Tomorrow, I continue to teach Fathom; we still have many more words to learn.
Chapter 11, Day 31: Yet More English
¡°Present is ¡®now¡¯. One day from now is ¡®tomorrow¡¯,¡± Pryce said to start off today¡¯s lessons. Seeing Fathom nod his understanding, Pryce continued, ¡°One day ago is ¡®yesterday¡¯.¡±
¡°Understand.¡±
¡°Yesterday at sunset I say, ¡®see you, sunrise¡¯. Humans say ¡®good night¡¯, then say ¡®good morning¡¯ at sunrise.¡±
Fathom looked up at the sun that was still just above the horizon. ¡°Good morning?¡±
¡°Yes, good,¡± Pryce confirmed. ¡°New words: When I make thing for you, or give thing to you, you say ¡®thank you¡¯.¡±
¡°Thank you?¡±
¡°Yes.¡±
¡°¡Dragon no use this word more.¡±
¡°What?¡± Pryce asked, baffled.
Fathom grumbled in frustration, ¡°No have word, what is word for thing that happen many?¡±
¡°Often,¡± Pryce said. ¡°Thing that happen many is ¡®often¡¯. Sunrise is often, sunset is often.¡±
¡°Yes, often. Dragon no use this word often.¡±
Dragons didn¡¯t have the words for ¡®thank you?¡¯ Pryce was having a hard time imagining their culture¡or more likely he just didn¡¯t explain the concept of gratitude very well.
¡°Why dragon no say ¡®thank you¡¯ often?¡± Pryce asked.
¡°You say humans say ¡®thank you¡¯ when you give things. Dragons no give things,¡± Fathom explained.
¡°I understand¡wait, you said dragon no say ¡®thank you¡¯ often, but dragons sometimes say ¡®thank you¡¯?¡±
¡°Dragon only give two things. One is to mate, one is to hatchling when hatchling is adult,¡± Fathom said, his spines lowering a little.
¡°I understand,¡± Pryce said, despite his desire to ask what was wrong. Fathom seemed saddened by the explanation, so perhaps he¡¯d ask later when they had more words, or when he was more willing to talk about it.
He had something else he wanted to talk about anyway, today he had brought with him a large book; a bestiary of animals from the mainland. It was a thick book, and Pryce hoped to use it to teach Fathom about animals from the mainland. It wasn¡¯t that Pryce thought Fathom would need to know them, but he was hoping Fathom could tell him about the animals that lived on this island by using the ones native to the Mainland as comparisons.
Even now Pryce only saw glimpses of birds and other small creatures fluttering about the forest and jumping through the canopy. One time he swore he saw something swing its way through like a monkey, but he was unable to get a good visual.
Pryce would¡¯ve liked to introduce all the species in the book to Fathom, but he didn¡¯t need to know about the tens of species of rats or birds, nor did he need to know about the taxonomy or ancestry of the species. General body types, limbs, and features would be good enough for their purposes.
¡°Book,¡± Pryce said to the dragon, who gave it a cursory glance but seemed unimpressed. Pryce sat down with his back turned to Fathom, opening the book and pinching a page between his fingers. ¡°This is one page, two pages, three pages,¡± he said, counting as he flipped each page onto his opposite hand.
¡°I understand.¡±
¡°Good,¡± Pryce said, flipping to the first sticky note he¡¯d placed beforehand. ¡°Rat,¡± he said, looking back at Fathom¡¯s gaze now focused on the pictures.
¡°See¡some rat,¡± Fathom said.
¡°Some rats here?¡± Pryce asked.
¡°Yes,¡± Fathom said, ¡°But too small, dragon no eat.¡±
¡°Rat from Mainland, from here,¡± Pryce said, pointing at the map next to him.
¡°¡From you home?¡± Fathom rumbled.
¡°Correction: From your home¡and yes.¡± Fathom seemed to have a bit of difficulty with using the right word tenses, but Pryce didn¡¯t blame him. He was fairly confident the dragon would learn the correct usages in time, and if he didn¡¯t then it wasn¡¯t a big deal.
¡°What big is rat?¡±
¡°What?¡±
Fathom held out a talon on each foreclaw and gestured varying sizes. ¡°Oh, correction: How big is rat?¡±
¡°How big is rat?¡±
¡°Rat is ten to fifteen centimeters ¨C ah,¡± Pryce halted upon seeing Fathom¡¯s confused expression. ¡°One-hundred centimeters is one meter,¡± Pryce said, pulling out the tape measurer to demonstrate. ¡°Ten centimeters. Fifteen centimeters.¡±
¡°Understood.¡±
¡°Bird, some are very small, some are around one meter,¡± he said, flipping through the various bird entries and giving Fathom some time to look at each species. On occasion the dragon would say ¡°Stop,¡± so that he could look at a particularly interesting bird. Sometimes he asked about a particular bird and Pryce did his best to answer in words that he would understand.
He seemed to like the Hoatzin in particular, telling Pryce to stop for a second time so he could look at it more.
¡°Beaver, this animal eats wood, makes trees fall. 70 ¨C 80 centimeters long.¡± They didn¡¯t eat wood, but it was close enough.
¡°Hrrm,¡± Fathom rumbled.
¡°Question?¡±
¡°Animal here like this, no make tree fall but eat wood,¡± he explained.
Interesting, though they didn¡¯t sound like a threat. Pryce made a note to ask more about these tree-eaters later. ¡°Wolf, 1 meter to 1.6 meters long,¡± he explained as he panned through the handful of wolf species.
¡°Tiger, two to three meters long.¡±
¡°Wait,¡± Fathom said, and Pryce let him look at the pictures for a minute. Unsurprisingly, the dragon liked to look at the more colorful animals.
¡°Bear, 1.3 to 2 meters long.¡±
¡°I see other animals?¡± Fathom asked.
Pryce looked at him quizzically and Fathom made an impatient flipping motion. ¡°Oh, word is ¡®next page¡¯.¡±
¡°Next page.¡±
Fathom didn¡¯t show much interest in most animals, often asking Pryce to flip to the next page until one caught his eyes. Pryce smiled; he couldn¡¯t help but think that this dragon was basically ¡®reading¡¯ a picture-book.
¡°This wound small animals, some kill small animals,¡± Fathom said, surprising Pryce. They were in the section of marine life, and were currently on the entry for the octopus.
¡°This¡is octopus, is in water,¡± Pryce said dubiously. Was Fathom warning him not to go into he water?
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¡°No, is in land, in trees,¡± Fathom said.
¡°Uh¡how¡?¡± Pryce failed to form a sentence, his mind not quite linking ¡®octopus¡¯ and ¡®in trees¡¯.
¡°Octopus in trees, fly from tree to tree, fall on small animals, eat small animals,¡± Fathom explained.
¡°¡Okay,¡± Pryce said, not sure how to respond. He was glad he hadn¡¯t decided to go into the forest, though he never imagined anything as bizarre as this lurking in there. If he ever needed to go into the forest, then he should definitely wear a helmet and some other protective covering.
¡°Octopus wound dragon?¡± Pryce asked.
Fathom made a strange sound that was half chortle and half rumble. ¡°Octopus eat small animal, no wound dragon,¡± he said, eyes narrowing in what Pryce assumed was mirth.
Pryce belatedly realized that of course humans would be considered small animals to a dragon, but the term was so out of place that his brain took a second to make the connection. ¡°How long is octopus?¡±
¡°One meter¡question?¡± Fathom said, shifting his wings like a shrug.
¡°Correction: Around one meter,¡± Pryce said, pivoting his hand in a so-so motion and taking note of the wing-shrug denoting uncertainty.
¡°Octopus is¡around one meter¡long,¡± Fathom said.
¡°Very good,¡± Pryce said approvingly. His sentences were already quite good, and he had been learning for¡ was today really only the third day? Pryce felt like he¡¯d been teaching Fathom for at least a week by now.
¡°Next,¡± Fathom chided impatiently when Pryce hadn¡¯t flipped for a few seconds.
¡°Oh, right,¡± Pryce said, flipping the page.
¡°Page,¡± Pryce said, pinching a single page between his fingers. ¡°Next page, previous page,¡± he said, pointing at the respective pages.
¡°Understand ¨C Next page,¡± Fathom said impatiently.
Pryce turned the page, chuckling.
¡°What is this?¡± Fathom asked, pointing at the words on one of the pages.
¡°Words,¡± Pryce said automatically.
Fathom looked at him with a puzzled expression.
¡°This is writing,¡± Pryce said, sketching out 1, 2, 3 in numerals and the draconic equivalents below. ¡°This is ¡®yes¡¯, this is ¡®no¡¯¡± Pryce explained, adding those words next to the numbers, with blank spots beneath them for Fathom to fill in.
¡°Question: Dragon have writing?¡±
Fathom seemed to ponder the question for a second or two before sketching ¡°!¡± and ¡°¨C¡± underneath yes and no, respectively.
Interesting, one character for each word¡so they used logograms? No modern human used those, but some ancient scripts used that structure. Pryce noticed that the ¡®!¡¯ ¨C which coincidentally looked like an exclamation mark ¨C was drawn with a thumb stabbing the ground with the middle talon drawn towards it, almost like the motion Fathom would make to pick something up.
That was an interesting idea; the gesture for accepting something could have been adapted to the gesture for drawing the very symbol for acceptance. He didn¡¯t have a deep theory for ¡°¨C¡±, but it looked like crossing something out.
Pryce sighed. Logograms would be a pain to learn, but he should make the effort. Fathom was learning the entire English spoken language after all.
¡°Raptor,¡± Pryce said and sketched into the sand. ¡°What is word for raptor in dragon writing?¡±
¡°This,¡± Fathom said, drawing¡a sketch of a raptor. It was stylistically similar to ancient sketches of animals made by his human ancestors.
Pryce frowned at that, wondering how to classify this written language. It seemed animals ¨C at least raptors ¨C were drawn using pictograms instead of logograms. He supposed it was not unreasonable, things that could be drawn were drawn, and concepts like ¡®yes¡¯ or ¡®no¡¯ were assigned more arbitrary symbols.
But that meant their written language couldn¡¯t have much complex grammar, could it? Either their spoken language was more complex than their writing, or their language was simple in structure as well¡though Pryce thought that was unlikely. Fathom had grasped more complex sentences very quickly, but comparatively struggled with tenses. The struggle might be explained by the complexity and arbitrary rules of tense conjugation, but Pryce strongly believed it wasn¡¯t possible for someone to learn to use complex languages so quickly without using them themselves, especially when Fathom was fifty-two years old.
Pryce couldn¡¯t imagine how quickly a newly hatched dragonet would learn to speak if a mature one was so proficient at learning. He wondered if Fathom was particularly gifted, or if all dragons were as quick at learning as he was.
¡°Written yes is like¡pick up,¡± Pryce said, dropping and picking up a stick to convey his meaning.
¡°Pick up?¡± Fathom asked.
¡°Writing yes is like pick up with talons,¡± Pryce said, making a claw-shape with his fingers and tapping middle finger to thumb.
Fathom blinked, his eyes widening a little. ¡°¡yes, written yes is like pick-up,¡± he said, glancing down at his own foreclaw and absently miming the motion.
Pryce considered teaching Fathom how to read, but books were quite small in comparison, so even if he could learn to read Pryce wasn¡¯t sure how useful it would be.
¡°You say question, I say answer. I teach, you learn,¡± Pryce said. ¡°Understand?¡±
¡°¡no?¡± Fathom said reluctantly.
¡°You know what this is,¡± Pryce said, picking up a seashell.
¡°I no no what this is,¡± Fathom disagreed. ¡°This is seashell.¡±
Pryce rubbed his eyes; he was afraid of this. He changed tactics, mentally cursing homonyms.
¡°You understand what this is,¡± he said, gesturing with the seashell again.
¡°Yes, is seashell,¡± Fathom answered.
¡°You no understand what this is,¡± Pryce said, gesturing with a coin this time.
¡°¡I yes understand, is shiny thing,¡± Fathom said.
¡°¡yes,¡± Pryce admitted, ¡°But this is coin.¡±
¡°Shiny coin.¡±
¡°Now you understand what coin is,¡± Pryce said, ignoring the avaricious gleam in his eyes. ¡°You learn, I teach, now you understand? Question?¡± Pryce asked, adding the last word belatedly.
¡°Yes, I understand now.¡±
¡°You want coin, yesterday you want marble, two days ago you want mirror and knife, you understand ¡®want¡¯ now?¡±
¡°Yes, I want coin.¡±
Pryce chuckled and flicked the coin at Fathom, who deftly snatched it out of the air into the palm of his foreclaws to admire the sunlight glimmering off of it.
¡°Read is see writing, understand writing, speak writing,¡± Pryce said. ¡°Question: You want to learn read?¡±
Fathom gave the small symbols a glance, and made an inconclusive rumbling noise.
¡°No?¡±
¡°Yes.¡±
¡°¡you want to learn to read?¡± Pryce clarified, deciding to break that cycle before it started.
¡°No.¡±
¡°Understand,¡± Pryce said. Maybe a few months from now he¡¯d change his mind ¨C
¡°You read words, I learn.¡±
¡°You want me to read for you?¡± Pryce asked, lips twitching.
¡°Yes.¡±
Pryce couldn¡¯t resist a chuckle at the thought of reading to a dragon, and Fathom cocking his head in response. ¡°Question?¡±
¡°Nothing,¡± Pryce said, waving him off. ¡°I read for you, which animal do you want me to start with?¡±
¡°Hoatzin,¡± Fathom said, and Pryce was glad that he gleaned the keywords from his long sentence. It would greatly accelerate Fathom¡¯s learning if he were exposed to as much ¡®proper¡¯ English as possible while still understanding his intent.
They didn¡¯t make much progress through the bestiary, what with Pryce having to explain every other new word, but at least Fathom learned many new words as a result. Pryce would have preferred to start with a simpler book, but almost all of the written material on the ship consisted of rather high-level non-fiction that Fathom could not even begin to understand at his current level.
On the other hand, he wasn¡¯t sure if Fathom would be interested in low-level children¡¯s books, even if they were more on his level. He made a mental note to check the crew¡¯s personal belongings for any books later.
Soon the sun was low, the book having distracted them both from the passage of time.
¡°Goodnight Fathom,¡± Pryce said, the dragon standing up and shaking himself free of sand like a wet dog, only to pop the coin into his mouth.
¡°No eat coin!¡± Pryce warned.
Fathom only opened his mouth in response to show the coin sitting on the floor of his mouth.
¡°Oh,¡± Pryce said. Apparently, dragons held small items in their mouths? The coin couldn¡¯t have tasted good, but it was a reasonable solution when one didn¡¯t have fingers.
¡°Goodnight Gharum,¡± Fathom said with a humorous lilt, then he shook his wings loose and leapt into the skies before Pryce could respond.
¡°Goodnight to you too,¡± Pryce huffed.
[JOURNAL ENTRY]
Today was quite fruitful, I taught Fathom some more common words and began showing him various entries in the bestiary. He seemed particularly interested in colorful animals such as birds and tigers.
Upon Fathom¡¯s request, I spent the rest of the afternoon reading to him. We didn¡¯t get very far through the bestiary, since I had to explain most of the words, but he learned many new words, and it was¡fun.
Wound progress update: By comparing the pictures I had taken of the injury before, I can determine that the scabs covering the tear have expanded ¨C especially at the beginning and the end. I am curious how the healing process occurs, as wings seem like they would be put under much stress and yet Fathom seems able to fly without much pain.
If I had to guess, the first stage of the healing process would be to cover the damaged tissue with scabs as per usual, but then the body should focus on completely healing the edges of the tear rather than heal all parts of it at once; this explained the thickened scabs along the ends of the tear that likely reinforce the weak spots. If the entire scab healed at once, then the wing would simply re-open.
I wonder if the thickened scabs will ¡®move¡¯ along the injury as the tear closes? That would be interesting to see.
Having finished his journal entry for today, Pryce went through some of the crew¡¯s rooms, looking for books in the lantern¡¯s light. He felt like he was intruding a little, and promised to himself that he would return whatever he borrowed to their families if he ever made it back.
He checked Dr. Siebert¡¯s room for the sake of thoroughness rather than any real expectation; she was a very no-nonsense type of professional, so it surprised him greatly when he found an old, worn child¡¯s book in a drawer simply titled ¡®The Book of Fairy Tales¡¯.
On the inside of the cover was a name scrawled in a child¡¯s writing.
¡°Ron.¡±
Pryce carefully put the book back where it belonged, and returned to his room.
Chapter 12, Day 32: Guard
¡°Good morning.¡±
¡°¡good morning,¡± Pryce said, rubbing his eyes.
¡°You¡good?¡± Fathom asked, peering closely at his face.
¡°Yeah, I¡¯m good,¡± Pryce said, giving him a thumbs up. ¡°I am tired, no sleep good,¡± he explained, setting up his equipment for today.
¡°This is one kilogram,¡± Pryce said, holding out a bucket of water that he had weighed earlier. One of the things he skipped yesterday when reading was the average weight of a species. He already read the book while using simple synonyms instead of the textbook-vernacular, but this was something he couldn¡¯t gloss over.
¡°This is kilogram, no water?¡± Fathom asked, tilting his head in confusion.
¡°Yes, this is water,¡± Pryce confirmed. ¡°Kilogram is mass,¡± he said, tossing a stone up and down. ¡°Everything have mass, stone have mass, water have mass, tree have mass, dragon have mass.¡±
¡°¡no understand,¡± Fathom said, flattening his spines.
¡°Give me a minute,¡± Pryce said as he began weighing some rocks.
¡°¡How?¡±
¡°What?¡± Pryce paused in his task to look at Fathom¡¯s puzzled muzzle.
¡°How do I ¡®give¡¯ a minute?¡± Fathom inquired.
¡°¡¡®Give me a minute¡¯ is like ¡®wait one minute¡¯,¡± Pryce explained, and ignored Fathom muttering grumbling something about ¡°¡human words.¡±
¡°This bucket of water is one kilogram,¡± Pryce explained when he was done collecting rocks. ¡°This rock is 1 kilogram, this rock is 2 kilograms, this rock is 3 kilograms¡± he said, sorting them from large to small. ¡°This rock has same mass as this bucket of water, understand now?¡±
¡°¡yes, understand,¡± Fathom said.
¡°Second, minute, hour, meter, kilogram, and liter are units,¡± Pryce explained. ¡°Second, minute, and hour are units of time. Meter is unit of length. Kilogram is unit of mass. Understand?¡±
¡°¡¡± Fathom glanced to the side and seemed to think, so Pryce waited. And waited. And waited. ¡°¡no,¡± the dragon finally admitted.
¡°Is ok, units is complicated,¡± Pryce reassured. He spent a few minutes giving more examples and explaining the subject until Fathom grasped the concept, then he went over the conversions between human metric units and draconic units if they existed. It turned out that dragons used their body lengths as a unit, something Pryce called a ¡®length¡¯. Fathom proclaimed that he was a large male at 13.5 meters (measured while he was stretched out, from nose to tail-tip), though he said the largest females were about 15 meters long. Because one of their ¡®lengths¡¯ was 13.5 meters long, Pryce also taught him the concept of decimal places, which seemed to confuse Fathom until Pryce explained decimal units using fractions.
¡°So dragon unit of time is ¡®beat¡¯, one beat is 12 seconds,¡± Pryce summarized after an hour of discussion. ¡°Dragon unit of length is one ¡®length¡¯, which is about 13.5 meters, and dragons have no unit of mass?¡±
¡°No unit of mass,¡± Fathom confirmed. ¡°Thing is heavy like¡small raptor, thing is heavy like big raptor,¡± he said.
Pryce nodded; it made sense that dragons wouldn¡¯t need a precise unit of mass when comparisons were sufficient enough. ¡°And no units for temperature?¡±
¡°No. Dragon have hot, have cold. Human have many thing, many word. Complicated.¡± Fathom said, with what sounded like a note of complaint in his voice.
¡°Units are important, humans make shiny things using units,¡± Pryce said, which predictably made Fathom perk up. ¡°Now you understand units, I can read more of this book,¡± Pryce said, bringing out the bestiary.
A minute later, Pryce sat cross legged and Fathom sat cat-like behind him, back legs and torso sprawled out to Pryce¡¯s left while his head peered at the pictures from above his head. In the past few days, Pryce would occasionally look at his serrated talons or his powerful forelimbs, and realize that he was next to an incredibly powerful creature that could kill him in an instant, or even by accident, but those moments occurred less often as he spent more time with the dragon.
¡°Grey wolves range from¡1 to 1.6 meters in length, and live in the¡northern end of the island,¡± Pryce read, slurring a little as he rubbed his eyes. It was tedious to abridge what he was reading on the fly, but not difficult. He had started leaning against Fathom¡¯s foreleg some time ago; the scales were tough but surprisingly not uncomfortable against his back, and he was quite content leaning against the dragon while sitting under the warm sun with just enough shade to keep it out of his eyes.
¡°¡they hunt in packs, and¡can run up to...60 kilometers per hour¡¡± he mumbled before closing his eyes a bit too long, slumping backwards as he fell asleep.
¡°¡Gharum?¡± Fathom asked. A few seconds later he decided to blow a puff of air at his head rather than poke him with his sharp talons.
Pryce did not respond, only breathing with a faint wheezing noise.
Then Fathom poked him with a knuckle the same way he spun the globe earlier.
Still nothing.
Fathom stared, bewildered at the human who had fallen asleep against him. What kind of fool fell into a deep-sleep so quickly, and next to a stranger? Fathom had learned much of the human language, but he felt like he was far from fully understanding these strange creatures who not only did not have proper scales, but only had fur in some places of their body.
He still could not understand how something so small could have managed to create something as large as the ship, and with so much metal, all of it purer than anything he had ever seen! They didn¡¯t even have their own fire to melt it with, and tree-fire was far too cold to melt metal, so how could they have done it?
The dragon stared at the completely defenseless human as he snored away. He knew humans slept, all animals did, but the deep-sleep was something dragons did to use their hydrogen pump and make fire-air. Humans didn¡¯t have either of those, so what did they need a deep-sleep for?
Perhaps this was just a normal sleep. Gharum did say he did not sleep well last night, though he did not say why. He still should not have fallen asleep so quickly. Did this strange ¡®human¡¯¡trust him that much?
Fathom glanced around awkwardly, not sure if he should poke harder until he woke up or to let him rest. In the end he could not bring himself to rouse the silly human, and curled himself around Gharum a little more tightly as he waited for him to awake.
Pryce woke up with a start, and realized the sun was noticeably lower in the sky than he last recalled. He looked around and saw a crescent-shaped wall of dragon at his back, and Fathom¡¯s head lying on the sand in front of him.
The eye facing Pryce blinked, and Fathom lifted his head. ¡°You sleep long time,¡± Fathom said.
¡°I sleep three hours and thirty-five minutes,¡± Pryce said. Then he realized Fathom said ¡®long time¡¯, even though he hadn¡¯t taught him that term yet. He supposed it wasn¡¯t unlikely for two distinct languages to describe a concept like time using arbitrary physical attributes, but it was still interesting.
¡°Yes, you sleep fast. Why?¡± Fathom asked, tilting his head a little.
¡°I¡I was tired,¡± Pryce shrugged.
¡°Why you tired?¡±
¡°No sleep yesterday night.¡±
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
¡°Why you no sleep?¡±
¡°I¡¡± Pryce began, then trailed off. It wasn¡¯t just the language barrier that stayed his tongue, he wasn¡¯t quite sure how to describe his feelings even to himself. Eventually he retrieved the map, stepping over Fathom¡¯s tail as he left and returned. ¡°When ship here, ship have 40 humans in it here,¡± he said, tapping on the mainland.
¡°¡This is many humans,¡± Fathom said, lifting his head to peer at the map and then at the ship. ¡°Number humans in here?¡± He asked, pointing at the mainland.
¡°Correction: How many humans are on the mainland?¡± Pryce said, then paused. He hadn¡¯t taught Fathom ¡®millions¡¯ yet. ¡°Hundred is ten tens, thousand is ten hundreds, understand?¡±
¡°Yes, you teach two days ago.¡±
¡°Million is thousand thousands, understand?¡±
¡°¡million is very big number, why make this number?¡± Fathom asked, eyeing with confusion. Of course, dragons probably didn¡¯t have millions of anything, so they never needed to invent words for anything greater than the thousands.
¡°There are 50 million humans on this island,¡± Pryce responded drily.
Fathom stared, his jaw hung ajar as he processed this information. Then he dug into the beach and picked out several pebbles the size of Pryce¡¯s fist.
¡°¡This is rock one, rock one is ten rocks, understand?¡± Fathom asked, pointing at a black rock.
¡°Yes?¡± Pryce said, surprised by the statement as Fathom usually wasn¡¯t the one to teach concepts.
¡°Rock two is ten of rock one, rock three is ten of rock two. Which rock is million?¡± Fathom asked urgently.
Pryce¡¯s eyes lit up, this was a very clever and intuitive setup, he wished he thought of this method sooner. ¡°Ten. Hundred. Thousand. Ten thousand. Hundred thousand. Million.¡± He counted as he tapped each rock. ¡°Rock six is one million rocks.¡±
¡°Million is this?¡± Fathom asked, still in disbelief as he sketched ¡®100000¡¯ into the sand to check again.
¡°Ye ¨C no,¡± Pryce said, adding one more zero. ¡°Is mistake, I correct. Now yes.¡±
¡°¡yes,¡± Fathom said, scratching his neck with a wing-thumb. Awkwardness? Or perhaps shame? ¡°This is very very many humans,¡± he said, sounding as though he meant it as an excuse.
¡°Is ok, I make mistakes too,¡± Pryce comforted.
¡°Two? Where you make two mistakes?¡± Fathom blinked in confusion.
Pryce sighed. The irony of the situation was not lost on him, though he wasn¡¯t quite sure how to communicate ¡®too¡¯ using other words.
¡°Too is not like two,¡± he began. ¡°Two is number, too is ¡®I do thing like you¡¯,¡± he explained.
¡°¡hear two is like too, like rock is rock.¡± Fathom said dubiously.
¡°Some human words sound same, but not same. Not same is different.¡±
¡°Human language complicated,¡± Fathom huffed, and Pryce got the feeling he¡¯d have used other words if he knew them.
¡°Yes,¡± Pryce said helplessly. ¡°I no make human language, I use.¡± He added, feeling the need to defend himself from the judging gaze. ¡°Mainland have 50 million humans, how many dragons here?¡± He asked, changing the subject.
¡°One thousand,¡± Fathom said succinctly.
Pryce raised an eyebrow, that had to be an estimate, right? ¡°¡exactly one thousand? Not one thousand and one, or nine hundred and ninety-nine?¡±
¡°I say one thousand,¡± Fathom said, spines twitching a little in annoyance.
¡°How do you know that?¡± Pryce asked incredulously.
¡°I no that?¡±
¡°Know is different from yes no, know is like understand. You know numbers, you know some human words. You know things you learn, understand?¡±
¡°¡what is different, know, understand?¡±
Pryce paused at this, wondering if the dragon meant he ¡®no understand¡¯ or if he was asking the difference between know and understand. ¡°Understand is¡you know why and how thing is, know is know. You can know, but not understand,¡± He said, aware of how terrible an explanation he was providing.
¡°¡No understand.¡± Fathom said.
¡°¡I teach you later. Later is some days from now. How you know number of dragons?¡± Pryce said, tapping his head.
¡°I¡know them?¡± Fathom said, sounding doubtful, though that may have been because of his attempt at using the new homonym.
¡°You¡know them,¡± Pryce said in disbelief. ¡°You know all one thousand dragons.¡±
¡°Yes,¡± Fathom said blithely, as if this were normal.
¡°You know their names?¡±
¡°Yes, I know one thousand dragon names.¡±
¡°And all dragons know one thousand dragon names.¡±
¡°Yes?¡± Fathom said. ¡°No understand, humans no know 50 million names?¡±
¡°Of course n-¡± Pryce said, then caught himself. ¡°No, humans no know 50 million names.¡±
¡°That is many names,¡± Fathom said as if conceding a point. Pryce supposed it was quite a culture shock to hear about a society of 50 million when yours consisted of a group of one thousand. ¡°You no teach: Why you no sleep?¡± He asked, sounding a little reproachful.
¡°Sorry,¡± Pryce said, smiling sadly.
¡°What is ¡®sorry¡¯?¡±
¡°Sorry is¡when you make a mistake, you say sorry to human or dragon you wound,¡± Pryce explained.
¡°You no wound me,¡± Fathom snorted.
¡°You ask question, you want to learn, I no answer, I say sorry,¡± Pryce tried. ¡°Humans or dragon is ¡®person¡¯, You say sorry to person you wound or give pain to,¡± Pryce explained. ¡°Dragon have this word?¡±
Fathom glanced to the side, not meeting his eyes. ¡°No¡yes¡different.¡±
¡°How different?¡±
¡°Dragons say sorry to dragon you very wound, no say sorry for¡this,¡± he gestured vaguely.
¡°Dragon sorry is more serious,¡± Pryce said. ¡°Human say ¡®I apologize¡¯ when they are very sorry.¡±
¡°¡understood.¡±
¡°¡anyway, to answer your question, I am¡healer. Heal is when wound go away, healer is person who make wound go away faster.¡±
¡°You use ointment, make ointment?¡±
¡°¡yes,¡± Pryce said, since it was close enough to the truth. He had discovered and isolated antibiotics, as well as helped in synthesizing it for mass-production, so it was pretty accurate to say he helped make it.
¡°You make ointment?¡± Fathom asked, looking at the wound on his wing.
¡°Yes.¡±
¡°How?¡±
¡°¡complicated,¡± Pryce said. ¡°I teach you tomorrow,¡± he promised before continuing, ¡°I was a healer on the ship, but I get sick. Illness make humans sick, when humans sick, body is hot, body feels cold,¡± Pryce said, not sure if he would be understood. ¡°Sick person no eat, sleep long time,¡± he added.
¡°¡Yes, dragon¡have sick too,¡± Fathom said, sounding uncertain, but Pryce felt like there was some other emotion there. ¡°Some sick very very bad, some dragons die.¡±
¡°Yes, many humans die from sick too. I find cure for many sick people. Cure is thing that make body heal from sick.¡± He took a deep, preparatory breath before venturing on. ¡°I go on ship as healer, but I get sick. I no cure people on ship, people on ship get sick.¡±
Pryce lowered his head, shutting his watering eyes. ¡°Then storm. Storm is big big wind,¡± he said weakly. ¡°Storm and illness kill humans. No kill me.¡±
¡°You know humans in ship names?¡±
Pryce blinked. ¡°Of course, I knew all of them.¡±
¡°Knew?¡±
¡°Oh, knew is past of know, I know them in the past.¡±
¡°They dead now.¡±
¡°¡yes.¡±
¡°You no dead, this¡is good?¡± Fathom asked, confused by Pryce¡¯s emotions.
Pryce did not answer, and only looked down at the beach.
¡°Question: Dead humans is your¡¡± Fathom broke off, then took a minute to sketch something in the sand. When Pryce look up, he saw that it was a family tree like the ones they had drawn earlier.
¡°No, not my family.¡±
¡°¡I no understand, why you¡this?¡± Fathom asked, uncertain and cautious.
¡°¡I am sad, because¡because I heal people, is my responsibility. Fail is big mistake. If people die, I fail. I no heal people on ship, I fail.¡± Pryce sighed. ¡°People in ship is ¡®crew¡¯. Crew were in¡pain for many days, and their families do not know they are dead.¡±
¡°You know this, why you no sleep yesterday night?¡± Fathom asked; he still did not understand.
¡°I¡see what books crew have, maybe they have books I can read to you. I see one book. A child¡¯s book ¨C a child is like a hatchling. One of the crew, a healer like me, had her son¡¯s book. I think he gave it to her before she left.¡± Pryce looked up at Fathom, his eyes reddened. ¡°It make me¡feel bad,¡± he finished lamely, unsure of how to tell him that he ¡®remembered¡¯ something, especially when the dragon seemed to almost never forget anything.
¡°Why you no heal¡them?¡± Fathom asked.
¡°What?¡± Pryce said, rubbing his eyes.
¡°Why you no heal them?¡± Fathom repeated.
¡°Because I¡I did not know how.¡±
¡°If you not know how, then how you heal them in past?¡±
¡°I¡I understand what you say,¡± Pryce said slowly, ¡°but the crew was my¡responsibility.¡±
¡°What is that?¡±
¡°Responsibility is¡¡± Pryce scratched his head. ¡°Raptor try to kill me, when you kill raptor, that is you protect me. Dragon have egg, parents¡give dragonet food? Protect dragonet? Heal dragonet when it has wound?¡±
¡°¡Yes,¡± Fathom said quietly, his wings slumping.
Pryce felt a distant pang of relief; it would be difficult to explain responsibility to creatures who never took care of anything. ¡°My crew was my responsibility. My responsibility to protect them from sick.¡±
¡°¡no understand why you responsibility,¡± Fathom said, tossing his head lightly before turning his head to directly face Pryce. ¡°Understand you¡sad. You no can protect people you want to protect.¡±
¡°Yes. Almost forty people I kill,¡± Pryce said quietly, as he hung his head.
¡°¡Correction: You no kill humans,¡± Fathom said, ¡°You want protect but you fail. Different.¡± He concluded with a dismissive snort.
¡°¡Thank you,¡± Pryce said, blinking.
Fathom blinked. ¡°I no give you thing.¡±
¡°You give me words,¡± Pryce said, smiling. ¡°You are a good friend.¡±
¡°Friend?¡±
¡°Friend is¡someone ¨C a person you are happy to see. Happy is no sad.¡±
Fathom tilted his head in thought. ¡°¡Dragons is happy to see mate and hatchling.¡± He looked dubiously down at Pryce. ¡°You no hatchling, and you very not mate?¡±
Pryce snickered before bursting out into laugher despite his somber mood, causing Fathom to draw his head back in bewilderment.
[JOURNAL ENTRY]
Day 32,
Today was¡interesting, Fathom claims that there are exactly one thousand dragons on this island, and that he knows all of their names. After seeing how quickly he memorizes everything, I don¡¯t doubt him. Why do they all know each other? Even the largest close-knit human communities rarely exceed 150, so I doubt Fathom really ¡®knows¡¯ a thousand other dragons, it is more likely he knows of them. Perhaps it is simply very important to know who to cross and who to not.
I have also talked to Fathom about my¡recent history.
I am not sure if he was trying to be comforting, exactly, but he did make me feel a bit better. He was somewhat insulting, but oddly enough that made it easier to accept his opinion as an unbiased one.
I told Fathom I¡¯d teach him about medicine, so I¡¯ll do that tomorrow. I know my past will likely come up in the conversation, and it will be a difficult one, but it needs to be said.
Wound progress update: The wound is smaller now, perhaps by a centimeter. If this rate of healing persists then the wound will likely be healed in less than 10 days; that is some truly impressive regeneration.
Chapter 13, Day 33: Medicine
¡°Yesterday you ask me how I make ointment,¡± Pryce said after they exchanged pleasantries.
¡°Yes?¡± Fathom asked, eyes bright.
¡°Today, I teach you about microbiology!¡± Pryce said, pulling out a magnifying glass from his pocket.
¡°What is¡micro-biology?¡±
¡°Micro is small, biology is life. Microbiology learn about small life,¡± Pryce explained. ¡°This is magnifying glass, magnifying glass is made of glass. I use magnifying glass to see small things.¡±
¡°I can see small things¡too,¡± Fathom said, unimpressed.
¡°Magnify means to make something small look bigger, and that is what magnifying glass does, it make small thing much bigger.¡±
¡°I¡understand,¡± Fathom said, though he still seemed doubtful of the tool¡¯s usefulness. ¡°Dragon can make small thing look bigger too,¡± The dragon added, lifting two talons to point at his eyes.
¡°Yes, you ¨C wait what?¡± Pryce started, looking up from the magnifying glass to stare at Fathom.
¡°Human no can make small thing look bigger?¡±
¡°No, humans cannot do that,¡± Pryce said drily, wondering how many ridiculous abilities dragons possessed. ¡°Some birds can make small thing look bigger, but not humans.¡±
Fathom blinked in surprise, then asked, ¡°Birds can say English words?¡±
¡°Some can, but they are not good at speaking English. Why do you ask?¡± Pryce said, looking up curiously. The question seemed like a non-sequitur.
¡°If bird not good at speaking English, how you know bird can make small thing look big?¡± Fathom asked in confusion.
¡°Oh,¡± Pryce said, ¡°humans look at bird eyes using things like magnifying glass, bird eyes have thing that help make small thing look big.¡±
Fathom rumbled as he considered this while Pryce set up the glass to stand up on its own. ¡°Look at leaf using magnifying glass,¡± Pryce said, demonstrating how to use the microscope by placing his head in front of it.
¡°Why I see leaf?¡± Fathom snorted derisively, though he still moved to see through the glass. ¡°I see¡hoh¡¡± Fathom cut himself off with an odd huffing sound of realization.
¡°You see things you not see before, yes?¡± Pryce asked.
¡°¡yes,¡± the dragon said, sounding surprised and a little shocked. That leaf in particular had some faint but very intricate patterns that could not have been seen without a magnifying glass.
¡°That magnifying glass makes thing look 4 times bigger, this means if you look at something one centimeter long it looks like it is four centimeters long,¡± Pryce explained, then belatedly wondered if the dragon could use telescopic sight to magnify the leaf even further. He¡¯d ask about that later.
¡°I show you this so you understand magnification, so you understand this faster,¡± he said as he pulled off the protective cover of the microscope. Fathom seemed moderately interested in the device, though Pryce suspected that was because of the shiny metal parts.
¡°What does this make?¡±
¡°Not make, do,¡± Pryce corrected. ¡°This let you see very small things.¡±
¡°Different from magnifying glass?
¡°Very small things,¡± Pryce emphasized. ¡°Use like this,¡± Pryce said as he demonstrated, putting one eye against the eyepiece. ¡°I put leaf under microscope,¡± he explained. To be more accurate it was a thin slice of a leaf, but that wasn¡¯t important.
Fathom rumbled as he moved to use the microscope. Pryce felt that he was skeptical of looking at leaves, but knew better than to protest by now.
¡°Close your left eye,¡± Pryce suggested.
Fathom grumbled, but closed his eye. He had to hold his head at an odd angle so that his eye could hover a centimeter or two above the eyepiece, since it wasn¡¯t exactly designed for draconic use in mind. ¡°No see¡¡± he grumbled before trailing off.
¡°Pretty cool, eh?¡± Pryce said smugly.
¡°What is¡this?¡± Fathom asked, voice much more subdued compared to his usual mildly thunderous self.
¡°That is 40 times magnification. Let me show you 100 times magnification,¡± he said, lightly pushing the dragon¡¯s head away from the microscope. Fathom seemed a bit stunned and did not resist, allowing Pryce to rotate out the lens and refocus the image. He repeated this for 400 times and 1000 times magnification, applying immersion oil for the last one.
¡°Here,¡± Pryce called out. ¡°This is photo of leaf in microscope,¡± he said when Fathom tore his gaze away from the eyepiece, gesturing to the image in a textbook showing plant cells in great detail.
¡°Why small is this? What is this...rectangles?¡± Fathom asked, looking quite baffled.
¡°Correction: ''How small is this'', and this is 400 times magnification, which means these rectangles are 400 times smaller than what you are seeing. These rectangles are ¡®cells¡¯, all life is cells,¡± Pryce said slowly and clearly. ¡°You, me, raptor, all have many many cells inside,¡± he explained, gesturing as he did so.
¡°I¡have rectangles inside me?¡± Fathom almost hissed as he looked down upon himself, as if he expected to see rectangles inside of him.
¡°No, animal cells like you and I have are round,¡± Pryce corrected, flipping the page to show an image of an animal cell. ¡°Cells are smallest life, no life is smaller than cells.¡±
¡°You say¡I am¡not one?¡± Fathom asked in that uncertain tone.
¡°Not one?¡± Pryce asked, confused.
¡°Dragon is one, human is one, animal is one,¡± the dragon elaborated. ¡°Cells are many, not one,¡± he protested almost plaintively.
¡°Yes and no?¡± Pryce shrugged, it wasn¡¯t really ideal to have philosophical debates in limited English, but at least they were getting pretty close. He wondered if being ¡®one¡¯ was some part of dragon¡¯s culture with how shaken Fathom seemed to be.
¡°Here, see this,¡± he said, filling a bucket with seawater and showing it to Fathom.
¡°¡this is water,¡± Fathom said, sounding like he was expecting Pryce to show him some bizarre truth about water.
¡°Yes, but you not see what is in water,¡± Pryce said, holding up a finger.
¡°Water have cells? Water is alive?¡± Fathom hissed, eyes widening.
¡°No, no,¡± Pryce said, ¡°Well, there are cells in saltwater, but they are not water,¡± he said as he placed a drop of water onto a glass slide and deftly slid it into place. ¡°Look now,¡± he said after a few seconds of shifting the slide around. Normally he¡¯d use the mechanical knobs to finely fix particularly interesting cells into place, but he didn¡¯t need to for this example.
Fathom looked into the eyepiece again and his jaw dropped open. ¡°This is¡life? Small animals?¡± He asked as he looked at the countless little things squiggling around the water.
¡°Yes! These are very small animals, but not cells.¡±
¡°Not cells? But you say cells is all life.¡±
¡°Yes, these are not¡one cells, these are small animals made of many many cells. The microscope is at 40 times magnification right now. There is small life everywhere,¡± Pryce gestured broadly.
¡°¡small life is on sand? On trees? On me?¡± Fathom asked, becoming progressively more panicked as he looked to himself, as if he could see tiny creatures crawling all over him.
¡°Well, yes, but they are harmless, no hurt you,¡± Pryce said, waving his arms in what he hoped was a calming manner. He hoped he wasn¡¯t turning the dragon into a germaphobe. ¡°Small life is in past too, no hurt you.¡±
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¡°How big is small life? How big is cells?¡± Fathom demanded, only calmed a little.
¡°One micrometer is one millionth of a meter, which means one million micrometers is one meter. Plant cells are 10 to 100 micrometers long,¡± Pryce explained. ¡°Small life in water is much bigger, I do not know how big,¡± Pryce said. ¡°Smallest life is bacteria, bacteria is 1-10 micrometers long.¡±
Fathom paused. ¡°How big is me cells?¡±
¡°Correction: How big are my cells? And I no see your cells, but your cells are animal cells, animal cells mostly 10 ¨C 30 micrometers.¡±
Fathom narrowed his eyes, ¡°Plant cells, bacteria, animal cells, different?¡±
¡°Yes, very different,¡± Pryce said. ¡°Four types of life are plant, animal, bacteria, and fungi,¡± Pryce said, ignoring protists for now
[1].
¡°Types?¡±
¡°Like¡black rock and white rock, some rocks black, some rocks white, different types,¡± Pryce explained, drawing a circle around a pile of black rocks and a pile of white rocks, then one big circle around both. ¡°Rocks. Rock is term, types are inside of terms.¡±
¡°What this make ointment?¡± Fathom asked, shifting impatiently.
¡°Correction: How this make ointment? And this is complicated, I teach fast,¡± Pryce explained placatingly. ¡°Bacteria make illness, bacteria out of body go in body and ¨C ¡±
¡°No. Dead things make illness,¡± Fathom interrupted, looking a bit confused.
Pryce considered his next words carefully. When germ theory was first proposed it had been¡not taken kindly. People, including doctors, so firmly believed that bad smells ¨C known as miasmas ¨C were responsible for illness that they threw the doctor who pushed for washing hands into an insane asylum. ¡°¡dead things have many bacteria,¡± he said, slowly.
Fathom grumbled loudly and looked at the trees, then at the ocean, and finally at the microscope. ¡°You¡know things¡I not know¡¡± He finally said, sounding as if he were forcing out each word with great effort. ¡°How bacteria make illness?¡±
Pryce smiled, glad to see that at least Fathom could put aside his pride. Many humans failed to do so, despite being ¡®civilized¡¯. ¡°Bacteria from out of body go inside body, do damage.¡± Pryce paused, then explained, ¡°Healthy is not sick. When you healthy, your body have many good bacteria, help body.¡±
¡°Many bacteria in me?¡± Fathom asked, flicking his third eyelid as he looked down at himself in evident distress. ¡°You say I have many many animal cells, no say I have bacteria cells in me!¡±
¡°This bacteria good!¡± Pryce called out, trying to sound convincing.
¡°¡How this make ointment?!¡± Fathom asked tiredly, having evidently accepted bacteria for now.
¡°Ok, uh¡¡± Pryce said as he tried to formulate an explanation that wouldn¡¯t give Fathom existential crisis. ¡°Fungi are mushrooms, like this,¡± he said as he opened a biology textbook to his bookmarked page. ¡°You know this?¡±
¡°Yes, I know things like this,¡± Fathom nodded. ¡°Some bad taste, some good taste, some make I feel sick,¡± the dragon added a little resentfully.
¡°Correction: Make me feel sick,¡± Pryce said. He knew fungi were infamous for their (mostly non-existent) hallucinogenic properties, but he imagined with a shudder just how much havoc a hallucinating dragon would wreak. ¡°Thing that make you feel sick if you eat is ¡®poison¡¯, some fungi are poisonous,¡± he added.
¡°Understand, some animals are poisonous.¡± Fathom said.
¡°Yes, you tell me later,¡± Pryce said, trying to stay on topic. ¡°Fungi can kill bacteria, make¡very very small things to kill bacteria,¡± he said, glossing over ¡®chemicals¡¯ for now. ¡°I learn to take very very small things that kill bacteria, and put it in here,¡± he said, holding up the tube of ointment. ¡°Very very small things that kill bacteria are ¡®antibiotics¡¯, antibiotics no kill human cells, only bacteria. This antibiotic I find is named ¡®Penicillin¡¯.¡±
¡°¡complicated,¡± Fathom said, squinting and flattening his spines.
¡°Yes,¡± Pryce said, recalling the years he spent on isolating penicillin and then researching a way to mass-produce it.
¡°¡penicillin in ointment help heal?¡± Fathom asked.
¡°Yes, thing that help heal is ¡®medicine¡¯. Penicillin is a type of medicine.¡±
¡°Question: Thing that help heal is ¡®healer¡¯?¡±
¡°Ah¡like that, but no. Person that help heal is healer, thing that help heal is medicine,¡± Pryce clarified.
Fathom considered this information for a few moments. ¡°You make antibiotic, make penicillin? Why not 50 million human make if it heal illness?¡±
¡°I find, other human help me, time from day I find to day antibiotic is used is 10 years,¡± Pryce answered, glad he had taught Fathom the meaning of ¡®if¡¯ earlier.
¡°Long time, why 10 years?¡± Fathom asked,
¡°¡very, very, very complicated,¡± Pryce sighed.
¡°Illness kill many dragon, you protect, heal many many human?¡±
Pryce grimaced and looked away before answering. ¡°¡yes.¡±
¡°¡why you sad?¡± Fathom asked, recognizing the emotion. ¡°You¡make mistake, heal bad human?¡± He asked.
Pretty good guess, but¡¡°No.¡±
¡°Why?¡± Fathom pressed.
¡°¡antibiotic take long time to make¡¡± Pryce said, rubbing his eyes. ¡°Island have very very bad sickness, many many people die.¡±
¡°¡How many?¡± He asked, the first time Pryce had ever heard him say something softly.
¡°Five-hundred-forty-two thousand, six-hundred and thirty-nine,¡± Pryce said, reciting the numbers that were engraved upon his mind like the ridges of a lifelong scar, the numbers came steadily despite the quavering of his voice.
¡°¡this is¡number on chronometer?¡± Fathom asked quietly, and Pryce hung his head in answer. The silence between them grew, until Fathom broke it. ¡°How many humans you heal?¡± He asked.
¡°¡Millions, probably.¡± Pryce answered without raising his head. ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡±
Fathom was silent again, and Pryce was glad to have a few moments to compose himself before the next question. ¡°You¡have family?¡±
¡°No,¡± Pryce said, taking a deep breath and gathering himself. ¡°Yes. I have¡had friend, very very good friend,¡± he began. ¡°Friend was named ¡®Wright¡¯¡Wright had a child, child¡¯s name was John. I¡help take care of child,¡± Pryce paused for a moment before continuing. ¡°Friend and his¡mate Danielle get sick, die many years ago.¡±
¡°¡child no die?¡± Fathom asked softly when Pryce did not continue.
Pryce shook his head, not answering. ¡°Before friend die, I say to him I take care of John who was six years old. I¡promised to protect his child,¡± Pryce said, speaking so quietly that Fathom had to stretch out his ear-spines to listen clearly.
¡°I find medicine 17 years ago, Wright died 12 years ago, very bad illness 10 years ago, I make antibiotic 7 years ago, I work too slow, many people die.¡± Pryce rattled off, his voice threatening to break. ¡°John got sick. Friends got sick. They die 7 years ago. I not make medicine fast enough. So many people d-die.¡± The words were forced out shortly before his voice broke, and tears began to drip onto the sand.
Fathom was at a loss.
Dragons were not social creatures, exactly. Their standing with regards to one another was of vital importance, but that did not mean they interacted with each other often; in fact, they barely ever did so except to trade, fight, or mate, with the latter being an exceptionally rare event. They rarely ever even had friends, with many dragons spending the majority of their lives alone.
Dragons never cried unless they had lost someone they had loved dearly, and they never shed their tears in front of another¡at least not that Fathom had ever heard.
What he really didn¡¯t understand was why Gharum would help raise another male¡¯s hatchling ¨C he was fairly certain this friend was male, but now didn¡¯t seem like the time to ask ¨C and why was he crying for people who were neither his ¡®friends¡¯ or his family?
Fathom tilted his head in thought. These humans were obviously very different from dragons, but to think they could be so backwards¡or perhaps Gharum was strange, even for a human.
Or perhaps it was the number of dead that concerned Gharum? More than five-hundred thousand humans died, more than five hundred times that of every dragon in existence! Fathom tried and failed to even imagine that many dead dragons. If his failure had been responsible for so many dragons he had never met, then¡he thought he could understand the human a little better.
¡°You¡time you find medicine, make medicine, ten years. Is long time,¡± Fathom finally said.
Pryce looked up, but didn¡¯t respond. The part of his eyes that were normally white were curiously reddened now.
¡°You say¡¡¯promise¡¯, is thing you say you do in future, yes?¡±
Pryce made some odd noises, as if clearing his throat of obstruction before responding. ¡°Yes¡Promise is when you say you will do thing.¡± Pryce picked up a twig. ¡°You do thing is ¡®keeping promise¡¯, no do thing is ¡®breaking promise¡¯. Is bad.¡±
Fathom nodded, ¡°dragon have promise too, different types of promise.¡±
Pryce blinked, then straightened his back. Fathom was pretty sure that meant he was paying more attention.
¡°Type one of promise is stop when sunrise. Type two of promise is promise thing to do, like trade thing. Type three of promise is¡no stop,¡± he explained. ¡°You promise, type three?¡±
¡°Yes...?¡± The human said, slow and uncertain.
¡°You¡you no make humans sick,¡± Fathom said, attempting to be reassuring.
¡°¡When¡when John get sick, he ask me to go see him.¡± Pryce lowered his head, ¡°I not go see him, I work to make antibiotic,¡± he said, not meeting Fathoms eyes.
¡°You make antibiotic, give to him?¡±
¡°Yes, I¡yes,¡± Pryce managed, faltering. ¡°But I have no time to see him. I not there when he sick, I not there when he die.¡±
Fathom drew his head back, wincing. The death of a hatchling was a tragic thing indeed, and Pryce seemed to treat this one as his own. ¡°Dragon promise is you do all thing you can, you do all thing you can, you not break promise,¡± Fathom said confidently. ¡°You not can do things you not can do.¡±
Pryce heaved a sigh and closed his eyes. ¡°Many people still die,¡± he said, but sounded a little less downcast.
¡°¡Dragon think, if we¡know dead dragon, dead dragon not¡very dead,¡± Fathom said, not knowing the right words in English. ¡°If Friend Wright live, he think you bad?¡±
¡°No,¡± Pryce answered instantly. ¡°No¡He not like that,¡± he said, a sad ghost of a smile on his lips.
¡°Then you good, other five-hundred forty-two thousand six-hundred thirty-eight people like crew, you do all thing you can to protect them.¡± Fathom concluded with an air of absolute finality.
¡°¡Thank you, you help some.¡± Pryce said, dusting himself off. He watched as the spore pods bobbed across the sky, carried by a wayward gust of wind, and seemed to stand up straighter. ¡°I am good now, what should I teach next?¡±
Fathom looked a little doubtful at his reassurance, but perked up when Pryce made his offer. ¡°How you make mirror?¡±
Pryce smiled.
[JOURNAL ENTRY]
Day 33,
When I look back upon my life, it seems my achievements are all obscured in the shadows of failure. Fathom''s questions have not been pleasant to answer, but I suppose it can''t be helped.
I was¡distressed at the time, but now I recall that Fathom seemed to ask some odd questions. He must be confused about humans and our customs; I should teach him those tomorrow.
What Fathom said to me today is nothing more than what I¡¯ve said to myself, or at least nothing I haven''t thought to myself. To be honest, I am heartened more by Fathom¡¯s desire to comfort me rather than the force of his arguments, but I appreciate it all the same.
It is strange how much more comforting words can be when they come from another person.
Wound progress update: The wound has shrunk by another centimeter, and the discoloration around the edges of the wound has faded by a noticeable degree.
Chapter 14, Day 34: Culture
Pryce continued his daily pre-dawn tradition of preparing ¡®course material¡¯ with great energy. Waking up was so much easier when you had an interesting day to look forward to, and the lack of mortal dangers didn¡¯t hurt either.
He was confident in their repertoire to have a conversation about dragon culture today, and that was something he had been looking forward to for some time.
¡°Good morning,¡± Fathom called out as he landed onto the beach.
¡°Good morning,¡± Pryce waved.
¡°What are you teach today?¡±
¡°Close, it¡¯s ¡®What are you going to teach today¡¯ or ¡®What will you teach today¡¯? And I want you to teach me about dragon culture, actually.¡±
¡°Why you not teach me human culture?¡± Fathom asked, tilting his head.
¡°Many humans, many cultures, complicated. You teach first, I learn, I can teach what part of human culture is like dragon culture.¡±
¡°¡understood,¡± Fathom said, then stared at him.
Pryce waited¡and waited¡and Fathom was still staring at him.
¡°Are you¡thinking?¡± Pryce asked, wondering if Fathom was expecting him to say something.
¡°Yes, why?¡±
¡°I can¡¯t see if you thinking,¡± Pryce shrugged.
¡°I am thinking.¡±
¡°Okay¡¡±
¡
Pryce took a few steps to the side and saw Fathom¡¯s tail tip was flicking back and forth. He imagined that would have been easier to see for another dragon, but as a diminutive human he had no such luxury.
After nearly a full minute of silence, Fathom began to speak. ¡°One dragon have territory, dragon no go in territory they no have. Some territory have more than one dragon, but only some,¡± he said as Pryce took notes. ¡°When island have 1000 dragons, no dragon can have eggs. If 999 dragons, all dragons meet, best male and best female have egg. If 998 dragons, all dragons meet, two best male and two best female have two eggs, understand?¡±
¡°Yes, I understand.¡± It seemed that dragons artificially kept their population at 1000, Pryce wanted to ask why that was, but decided to hold his tongue until Fathom was finished.
¡°Dragon can fight other dragon for territory or for treasure, but if fight, they no can protect territory they have. If dragon have mate, dragon have egg or hatchling, most dragon with mate no fight for territory, only protect territory.¡±
Interesting, going after more territory did seem quite risky, especially if you were wounded or killed.
¡°Some of time dragon trade territory for shiny things, or trade shiny things for territory, or shiny things for shiny things, or territory for territory. What is word for more than one dragon?¡±
¡°Dragons?¡± Pryce said uncertainly.
¡°Word for dragons together, sometimes family.¡±
¡°Oh, uh¡clan. Dragon clan.¡±
¡°No dragons clan?¡±
¡°Not dragons clan, dragon clan. If more than one clan then dragon clans,¡± Pryce said. ¡°Yes, human language strange,¡± he stated before Fathom could begin his customary quip.
Fathom glared at Pryce for stealing his line, but moved on to explain that, ¡°Some dragon clan make things, no other clan can make.¡±
¡°What kind of things?¡± Pryce asked, interested.
¡°Some dragons fire sand, make shiny thing like glass, need word for this,¡± Fathom said.
Pryce held his chin in thought, wondering what to call this thing. He doubted it resembled glass as he knew it, even if it was a primitive form of it. Ignite was already a word, Ignisite was too similar, and he certainly wasn¡¯t going to call it dragonite, even if it was technically accurate. ¡°Sand-glass?¡± Pryce shrugged, ¡°I need to see it to give it a good name.¡±
¡°I will bring sand-glass tomorrow,¡± Fathom said, flicking his wings. ¡°One clan more good at make sand-glass than other clans, name for this clan?¡±
¡°¡glassblowers,¡± Pryce said.
¡°What is ¡®blowers¡¯?¡± Fathom asked, looking particularly interested.
¡°Wait one minute,¡± Pryce said, going into the ship to retrieve a length of copper pipe intended to be used to repair the ship¡¯s plumbing. ¡°This is tube, blowing is this,¡± he said, audibly blowing air out of his pursed lips. ¡°Human make glass by blowing through tube,¡± he demonstrated, the pipe making a hollow whistling sound.
¡°¡How this make glass?¡± Fathom asked incredulously.
¡°Oh, right, there¡¯s very hot glass on the end of the tube. Human blow air, air make glass round.¡±
Fathom tilted his head, processing this new information. ¡°I want to see you make glass,¡± he said after a moment, eyes bright.
¡°I¡¯m not a glassblower, need much practice to make good glass. Practice is doing thing many times.¡±
Fathom¡¯s spines fell flat against his neck and his head drooped a little, making Pryce feel as if he poked a hole in a balloon. ¡°What else do dragons make?¡± He asked, trying to change the topic.
¡°¡some dragon clan make¡wood¡¡± Fathom gave up halfway through his sentence, instead glancing around for a dead tree and then carving furrows into it.
¡°Carvings? Wood carvings?¡±
¡°Yes?¡± Fathom said, uncertain if Pryce understood him.
Pryce ran through his mental checklist of the ship¡¯s contents, and remembered the captain had a sizeable wood carving at his desk of a mermaid; it was intended in part to make up for the lack of a figurehead on the Horizon.
¡°Wait one minute,¡± he said, turning back to the ship. He paused, looking up at the deck, then back at Fathom¡¯s claws. Maybe if he got Fathom to lift him up, he could climb over the bulwark and onto the deck without having to climb up the stairs and ladders¡he dismissed the silly thought, the ship was a bit too tall. Fathom would have to toss him, which was just a stupid thing to do to save himself a few minutes of climbing.
¡even if some part of him really wanted to do it.
¡°Wait a few minutes,¡± he corrected with a sigh.
Ten to fifteen minutes later Pryce returned to the beach, a lacquered wood sculpture of a mermaid in his arms. It wasn¡¯t heavy enough to strain his injured shoulder, which was healing nicely, but it would be some time before he was completely healed.
¡°Is fourteen minutes and twelve seconds a few minutes?¡± Fathom asked with his head on the beach and his eyes lidded half-shut. Pryce wasn¡¯t completely sure if he was being passive aggressive or genuinely asking. Perhaps both.
¡°Sorry, I took more time than I thought,¡± Pryce said, holding up the sculpture.
Fathom¡¯s half-closed eyes shot open upon seeing the glossy lacquered wood. ¡°What is this?¡±
¡°Wood,¡± Pryce said. ¡°Lacquered wood.¡±
¡°This no like wood. What is ¡®lacquered¡¯?¡±
¡°I¡don¡¯t know, actually,¡± Pryce said, shrugging with difficulty due to the weight of the carving. ¡°Lacquer is thing you rub on wood to make it shiny. Rub is this,¡± he said, miming the action. He hadn¡¯t thought to consider the stark difference between lacquered and unlacquered wood, but it was obvious in retrospect. Pryce set the carving down onto a crate so that the sand wouldn¡¯t scratch the coating, then stepped back to let the dragon look over the piece of woodwork.
¡°What is¡this?¡± Fathom asked, pointing at the mermaid.
¡°Oh, that¡¯s a ¡®mermaid¡¯.¡± Pryce paused, trying to think of how to describe something that doesn¡¯t exist.
¡°See like human, and fish? Hair is very long.¡±
¡°Correction: Looks like human. Mermaid is thing that is half-human, half-fish.¡±
¡°Mermaid¡in ocean? I no see mermaid before.¡±
¡°No, mermaid do not exist. Exist is like¡uh¡¡± Fathom looked at him expectantly as he trailed off, which only made it harder to think. ¡°Dragon exist,¡± Pryce said, sketching a draconic figure in the sand, then swept it away with his foot. ¡°Dragon no exist.¡±
¡°Mermaid do not exist?¡± Fathom cast a baffled look at the mermaid and then at Pryce. ¡°Why human make carving of thing that do not exist?¡±
¡°Very¡complicated,¡± Pryce shrugged helplessly. ¡°Some dragon clans make wood carvings?¡± He asked, hiding his amusement at the idea.
¡°Not clans, many¡dragons make wood carvings,¡± Fathom said, making a vague gesture with a wing. It made sense, carving wood wasn¡¯t exactly a secret skill that could be retained by one clan only. Making glass was far more complicated than just melting sand, you needed the right type of sand, and getting flux to make glass easier to melt was fairly difficult as well. Humans used soda ash (also known as Sodium Carbonate) which was derived from filtering the ashes of plants that grew near salt water, then boiling the filtrate to get soda ash residue.
That was if dragons used flux at all, of course. Hydrogen burned at over 1800 degrees Centragrade, while sand melted at around 1400 degrees, depending on the composition. So flux wasn¡¯t needed, but it certainly would¡¯ve helped.
¡°Understood,¡± Pryce said. ¡°Do dragons make anything else?¡±
¡°Mmm¡¡± Fathom hummed, looking indecisive. He kept sneaking glances at the mermaid, and Pryce wondered if he wanted it that badly or if it was something else. His shoulders and wings seemed a bit more hunched than normal, his head was lower too. Was he feeling ashamed? Pryce supposed their wood carvings couldn¡¯t be that impressive due to their limited technology.
¡°One clan make liquid, you drink, feel good,¡± Fathom said, with a look that somehow conveyed longing to Pryce.
¡°Feel good¡how?¡± Pryce asked, suspect.
¡°Feel¡hot, but not bad hot. Feel happy and want to sleep.¡±
Well. Dragons had alcohol.
To make alcohol, all that was needed was to have yeast infest a sugary liquid. It had been independently ¡®invented¡¯ many times throughout history by many different groups of people because of how simple the process was.
Evidently dragons could be added to that group as well.
¡°Name of liquid is ¡®alcohol¡¯,¡± Pryce said.
¡°Al¡coh¡hol¡Alcohol¡Al-co-hol,¡± Fathom said, sounding as if he were having fun with the pronunciation of the word before elaborating on his prior point. ¡°Dragon not in this clan no know how to make liquid, only this clan make alcohol.¡±
¡°Clan name is¡Brewers. Wait one minute,¡± Pryce said.
Fathom huffed irritably but didn¡¯t say anything as Pryce made his way to the galley to retrieve a jar of sugar cubes and an apple.
¡°Sugar, Apple,¡± Pryce said, rattling the jar and holding up the apple in his other hand. ¡°Apple is fruit, fruit grows on trees, dragons eat fruit?¡±
¡°Sometimes,¡± Fathom said, looking between the exotic fruit and the glass jar of strange white cubes.
The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
¡°I throw apple, you catch,¡± Pryce said, making throwing gestures before tossing it underhand at the dragon, who snatched it out of the air and crunched it between his back teeth, which Pryce noted to be flatter than the sharp canines, but not quite as flat as human molars.
¡°Taste¡¡± Fathom trailed off as he formed his opinion, ¡°¡Good. Very good,¡± he said after considering the flavor a bit more.
¡°Taste of apple is sweet,¡± Pryce said as he popped the jar open and plucked out two sugar cubes. Pryce ate one, and held one out to Fathom, who received it in the palm of his foreclaws.
¡°Eat,¡± Pryce said when Fathom did nothing but stare at the cube for several seconds, tilting it around so it rolled from face to face.
¡°Sugar is beautiful,¡± Fathom said. Pryce hadn¡¯t considered that property of sugar to be relevant, but he supposed the white, sparkly, and pleasingly geometric shape was pretty in a way.
¡°Eat, taste good,¡± Pryce prompted again, hoping that Fathom wouldn¡¯t try to add this to his collection of shiny things, and Fathom reluctantly tossed it into his maw.
¡°Taste, good?¡± Fathom said uncertainly, and Pryce realized that a single sugar cube was probably a bit difficult to taste for something the size of a dragon.
¡°Sugar tastes sweet, like apple. Have some more,¡± Pryce said, pouring several cubes into his outstretched talons.
This time his eyes widened in amazement as he crunched down on the granular cubes. ¡°Taste very very good,¡± he said, eyeing the rest of the jar.
¡°No, this mine,¡± Pryce said, drawing the jar away. There wasn¡¯t much sugar on the ship, and it could be used for purposes more important than a sweetener.
Fathom grumbled in disappointment, but did not try to take the sugar away from him. ¡°Have liquid with sugar, wait around 10 days. Liquid become alcohol,¡± Pryce said, by way of consoling him.
Fathom stared.
¡°What?¡±
¡°What?¡±
¡°How liquid become alcohol?¡± He demanded, as if Pryce had told him some great secret of the world without either context nor explanation.
¡°Sweet things like fruit have sugar, fungi eat sugar, make alcohol¡like dragon make fire,¡± Pryce said, hoping the analogy would work. At least it was better than interpreting the alcohol as fungal waste products, even if it was more accurate.
Fathom looked away, speechless at this revelation. ¡°How you know this? Humans make alcohol too?¡± He asked after the momentary pause, overriding his first question as he deduced that humans must have alcohol for them to have a word for it.
¡°Yes, have alcohol on ship, you want?¡±
¡°¡Yes, want!¡± Fathom said after a stunned silence, eyes wide with eager anticipation.
Sailors normally drank grog which was really just diluted rum. Pryce wasn¡¯t sure which to give Fathom, but he was sure either way the dragon wouldn¡¯t get drunk from a little liquor thanks to his sheer mass. Natural fermentation could only get alcohol up to 20% or so, it took distillers to make alcohol any more concentrated than that.
The ship¡¯s stores of rum were at 60% concentration, far stronger than anything dragons could have possibly made without distillation. Pryce filled an empty one-liter bottle halfway full and filled the rest with water.
Then Pryce took an hour to teach Fathom percentages so that he could tell him how strong this alcohol was compared to any he knew of. The blue dragon initially had difficulty understanding how to split a group of X stones into 100 increments and then choosing Y increments to get Z stones, but still grasped the concept relatively quickly after Pryce gave him a few more examples.
¡°Alcohol is thing that make you feel good,¡± Pryce explained. ¡°Bacteria can sometimes make liquid into 20% alcohol, but most times is lower percent. Human alcohol on ship is 60%, I add water, make 30%. You try 30% first, if you want stronger I give you 60%.¡±
¡°I want 60%,¡± Fathom said, glowering as if he had been insulted. Despite this, he didn¡¯t let go of the rather comically undersized bottle; dragon fingers evidently didn¡¯t bend enough to securely grasp something that small. Still, he held the glass up under the sunlight and admired the dark bottle-green color with wide eyes before tilting the bottle over his lower jaw. He wasn¡¯t able to drink like a human since he didn¡¯t have squishy lips, but he could pour the drink into his maw without much difficulty.
Pryce watched the dragon pour some into his open mouth, then sealed his mouth shut while seeming to swish the drink around his mouth. The human shook his head, grinning at the image of a draconic wine-taster.
Fathom finally swallowed the liquor and said, ¡°very strong, very good,¡± before returning to pouring the half-rum down his throat. A few more repetitions of this later he emptied the bottle, evidently having stretched it out to savor the taste ¨C Pryce was certain his maw could have fit several entire bottle¡¯s worth of liquid. ¡°Human alcohol is better than dragon alcohol, very very good,¡± he said approvingly, his eyes lidded with contentment.
¡°Of course, is made with human knowledge,¡± Pryce said a little smugly, despite the fact that he rarely ever drank; He had always been too busy with work to indulge in something like that.
¡°You give me 60% alcohol?¡± He asked hopefully.
¡°I do not have much alcohol,¡± he said, frowning.
¡°Give small alcohol?¡± Fathom asked in a hopeful and coaxing tone.
¡°¡fine, I¡¯ll give you a little,¡± Pryce relented, wondering if he should start asking for things in return. He hadn¡¯t given anything of value to Fathom yet, he wasn¡¯t entirely sure if Fathom would be as generous in returning the favors if dragons had a culture that placed emphasis on trading things ¨C which he was fairly certain was the case.
Pryce filled a fifth of the bottle with pure rum and gave it to Fathom, who poured it into his jaw with a pleased rumble. ¡°Very, very strong,¡± Fathom said when he was done, and Pryce wondered how much alcohol he¡¯d have to drink to get drunk.
It might have seemed like a pointless thing to estimate, but he couldn¡¯t imagine drinking and flying could end up well for anyone but the scavengers.
Some napkin math told him that Fathom had drunk 0.42 liters of pure alcohol. He wasn¡¯t sure how much of that would be absorbed quickly, but he thought he heard it was around 20% for humans. If that percentage held true for dragons, that was 0.084 liters of pure alcohol. 0.08% BAC was considered impaired for humans, so that meant he¡¯d need to have more than 105 liters of blood, which certainly sounded low.
The ratio of human blood to body mass was roughly 1/12. If Fathom had 105 liters of blood that would mean he had an estimated mass of¡1260 kg. Since Pryce estimated the dragon to be 4,000 kilograms at the very least, that meant the dragon was far from being drunk. Unless dragons were more susceptible to alcohol than humans were, in which case he really should¡¯ve considered that before he¡¯d given the dragon alcohol.
This estimation would be a lot easier if he knew Fathom¡¯s mass, but that was easier said than done. He¡¯d try to come up with some ideas tonight.
¡°Question: I take bottle?¡± Fathom asked, interrupting Pryce¡¯s thoughts while shaking the now-empty bottle.
¡°Hmm¡¡± Pryce hummed, considering the request with mock severity.
¡°You want to trade?¡± Fathom offered, having apparently misinterpreted his jest as hesitation.
¡°Uh,¡± Pryce blinked, surprised by the offer. ¡°Yes, will trade!¡± He said quickly, curious to see what sort of things dragons would make, even if he wasn¡¯t knowledgeable about human art.
¡°What you want to trade for bottle?¡±
Pryce shrugged. ¡°What do you have?¡±
¡°¡No have name for things,¡± Fathom said, making a deep grumbling noise of what was evidently frustration.
¡°I show you things,¡± Pryce said with a sweeping gesture. ¡°You show me things, teach me things, I teach you human word for things.¡±
¡°You¡want to see me home?¡± Fathom blinked, surprised.
¡°I¡did not say that, but yes, I want very much to see your home.¡± Pryce replied, also caught off guard by the misunderstanding but not displeased.
Fathom rumbled in thought, but was otherwise silent for a full minute. Pryce wondered what customs dragons had about visiting each other¡¯s homes. They were territorial, so maybe it was very rare? Or maybe he had made some cultural faux-pas?
¡°Ok, I take you to me home,¡± Fathom said, and Pryce was relieved enough to not correct him. ¡°What day you want go to me home?¡±
Good question. ¡°I go to your home when you wing heal?¡± Pryce asked. That should give him some time to prepare some luggage, and give some time to Fathom as well if he needed it for whatever reason. Maybe he was messy and needed a few days to tidy up, he snickered in his mind.
¡°Good, will take you to me home when me wing heal.¡±
Pryce smiled.
One more thing to look forward to, he¡¯d have to make a list of things to bring ¨C
¡°I take bottle?¡± Fathom asked.
¡°Okay, okay, you can take bottle,¡± Pryce snorted in amusement, finally relenting. ¡°How many dragons in one clan?¡± He asked, curious about draconic culture.
¡°Some clan big, some clan small, biggest clan is 20 dragons, many clan have 5 to 10 dragons. Many dragons no in clan.¡±
So dragons lived in pretty small clans. Perhaps a population density any higher than that would deplete the prey? No, there were only 1000 dragons for 500,000 sq km of land, so that meant each dragon had an average of 500 sq km of land, that was plenty to sustain them, and a clan would have an even larger territory¡but perhaps multiple dragons in one area would force the prey into the neighboring territories?
¡°How big are human clans?¡± Fathom asked before Pryce could ask why dragon clans were so small; he¡¯d probably noticed Pryce thinking for longer than usual.
¡°Uh¡¡± Pryce said, not sure what to classify as a ¡®clan¡¯. ¡°Human ¡®clans¡¯ sometimes have hundreds. ¡®Cities¡¯ are where many humans live, and the biggest city has 6 million humans.¡±
¡°6 million humans together?¡± Fathom hissed, drawing his head back in surprise at the information. ¡°How big is city?¡±
¡°Around two-hundred square kilometers?¡± Pryce said, wondering if he had a detailed map of the capital on the ship. ¡°Kilometers is length, square kilometers is area, like this,¡± he explained upon seeing Fathom¡¯s uncomprehending expression. He drew a square 2 meters in length, then another 3 meters in length. ¡°This square is 4 square meters, this square is 9 square meters, understand?¡±
¡°Yes¡?¡± Fathom said uncertainly.
Pryce drew a square 4 meters in length. ¡°How many square meters of area does this square have?¡±
Fathom only stared at the square silently, too proud to admit not knowing. Pryce drew grid lines to help him out. ¡°This and this is one meter, one square with length of one meter is one meter squared. A square with a length of two meters has four squares of one meter squared in it, understand?¡±
¡°Yes, understand, this square has 16 square meters?¡± He asked, pointing at the largest square.
¡°Yes, good,¡± Pryce said.
¡°City area is like square of length 14 kilometers and 14 kilometers?¡± Fathom asked.
¡°¡yes, like that,¡± Pryce said after double checking that the square of 14 was 196.
¡°¡smaller than me old territory,¡± Fathom said, then glanced away, not quite meeting Pryce¡¯s gaze.
¡°Old territory? Your present territory is smaller?¡±
¡°¡Yes,¡± Fathom said, head lowered in shame.
Pryce decided to change the topic, despite burning with curiosity. They would probably need more words relating to draconic culture to talk about that story anyway. ¡°How many dragon clans are there?¡±
¡°Thirty-eight, maybe more maybe less,¡± Fathom answered. That really wasn¡¯t much, if a big clan was 10, then there had to be less than 380 dragons in clans, while he assumed the rest lived on their own¡or he could just ask Fathom himself.
¡°Why maybe more, maybe less?¡± Pryce asked, the statement seemed to contradict what Fathom said about knowing all 1,000 dragons.
¡°Some clan maybe break, and dragons in past clan different.¡± Fathom said, shifting his wings.
¡°Word for things in past is different is ¡®change¡¯, clans ¡®change¡¯,¡± Pryce explained. ¡°When you hear, how many dragons in clan, how many not in clan?¡±
¡°774 not in clan, 226 in clan.¡±
Pryce still couldn¡¯t get over how strange it was that dragons knew of everyone else. They must gossip like crazy unless Fathom¡¯s information was very outdated. Pryce looked down at his chronometer, it was 4:30 pm, so there were a few hours of daylight left.
¡°What is chronometer?¡± Fathom asked, eyes caught on the shiny gadget.
Pryce paused. Hadn¡¯t he talked about it already? Perhaps Fathom wanted to know more about it. ¡°Chronometer is¡device. Device is thing that do things, but is not alive like animal or plant or fungi. This device measures time, like tape measurer measures length,¡± Pryce said, satisfied that he had the vocabulary to offer a better explanation this time.
¡°Measure time, look at sun,¡± Fathom snorted.
¡°How you tell time at night?¡± Pryce challenged.
¡°Sleep at night. No need to know time,¡± Fathom said simply.
¡°Dragon no need to know time, but human need to know time to use ship, find location,¡± Pryce explained. ¡°When ship in middle of ocean, no can see land,¡± Pryce said, pointing at a random bit of ocean on the map.
¡°¡yes, humans do things different,¡± Fathom admitted. ¡°But how time help you find location?¡±
¡°Correction: Humans do different things, and¡how to use time to find location is complicated, but I try to explain,¡± Pryce said, gathering his thoughts.
First, he explained what longitude and latitude were, which Fathom grasped fairly easily, though he expressed some discontentment at the mainland being at the center of the coordinate system.
He went on to explain how longitude could be obtained by knowing the time of noon and calculating the time difference between two locations using the chronometer. Fathom was initially baffled by the more complex mathematics, but soon grasped it after Pryce explained using the globe that time of noon would be different depending on which line of longitude you were at.
Pryce also tried explaining how the radio-transmitter worked, but Fathom had difficulty accepting that there were wavelengths of light that he could not see. Pryce would¡¯ve liked to use the radio receiver to help support his case, but it would only ring at 6:29 AM.
Pryce gave up and decided to move onto the next topic, explaining that Polaris was always located pointed North. It took some more demonstration to show the dragon how a sextant worked by moving the arm attached to the mirror until the target in the sky lined up with the horizon, which was done by using two mirrors which fed different parts of the sky into the scope.
[1]
¡°If you can see Polaris, you can know your latitude,¡± Pryce said, adjusting the mirrors on the sextant to line up the star with the horizon. ¡°Move your head where my head is,¡± he instructed, then shifted to the side as he tried to hold the sextant in place, allowing Fathom to see how the mirrors could move the two halves of the sky until they lined up. It was an awkward process since Pryce couldn¡¯t see if the images were lined up when Fathom was using the sextant, but they eventually got it to work.
It was darker now as the sun had almost set, and the dragon¡¯s pupils dilated further than Pryce had seen before in order to peer into the eyepiece. ¡°Mirror make sky move,¡± the dragon said, almost reverently.
¡°Yes and no,¡± Pryce said hesitantly, not wanting to give Fathom the wrong impression. ¡°Mirror only move light. IR, red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, violet, and UV are all types of light, mirror move light from things, not move things,¡± he explained.
¡°Understand, I say mirror look like it move sky,¡± Fathom amended.
¡°Yes, good,¡± Pryce said, relieved.
¡°Dragon also have name for this star, is ¡®North Star¡¯,¡± Fathom told Pryce, looking up from the sextant to see Polaris directly.
¡°Humans have same name, Polaris have other name, other name is ¡®North Star¡¯,¡± Pryce said, pleased but not surprised by this piece of information. It was the most obvious choice, after all.
¡°Is¡good name,¡± Fathom said, probably meaning it was a sensible name. ¡°Dragon see Polaris move if dragon move. If dragon go north, Polaris move north, if dragon go south, Polaris move south.¡± Fathom said absently. ¡°Humans know same thing, but¡use it. Dragons also think shiny things are beautiful, but humans use it to do things,¡± he spoke somewhat uncertainly, as if unsure of what he meant to convey.
¡°Humans all start somewhere, we do not know anything when we are hatched. Humans learn things, then teach other humans, is how we learn. I can teach you. When you know many things, we can learn new things together,¡± Pryce said, patting the dragon¡¯s neck.
¡°Humans strange,¡± Fathom snorted, but did not lean away.
¡°Yes,¡± Pryce grinned.
[JOURNAL ENTRY]
Day 34,
Dragon culture is quite interesting.
For the most part, they live alone, but at the same time they¡¯re aware of every other member of their species, and they also interact with one another by trade. I can¡¯t decide whether or not I should refer to them as social or asocial creatures.
(I believe) Fathom said that clans tend to break down when they exceed ten or so individuals, and biological studies have found that troops of monkeys tend to fragment into two different groups led by two alphas if they exceed a certain number, referred to as Dunbar¡¯s number.
But dragons don¡¯t have an alpha, and are monogamous, normally living alone in their own territories. I¡¯m not sure what could cause dragon clans to fragment if they have any capacity for cooperation with one another¡perhaps accumulated ¡®wealth¡¯ eventually causes a schism? I will need to ask more about this topic later.
From my understanding, the dragon clans can be categorized based on what they can do or make, though only Brewer and Glassblower clans are ¡®unique¡¯ in that there is one clan that is head and shoulders above the others in terms of their product. I will ask for more details tomorrow.
Wound progress update: Injury continues to improve, and the wound has shrunk by another centimeter.
Chapter 15, Day 35: The Fires in the Skies are Stars
¡°So brewer clans know how to make alcohol, so other dragons can not attack them?¡± Pryce asked, making sure he understood the situation.
¡°Yes and no, they can attack, but if they attack, no trade alcohol.¡±
¡°Yes, I understand,¡± Pryce said absently, bemused by the idea of dragons running a monopoly. How could they keep something like alcohol a secret? It wasn¡¯t hard to figure out by accident. ¡°Why do other dragons not learn how to make alcohol? You only need fruit and wait,¡± he asked, unable to come up with a sensible answer.
¡°Fruit is small, and taste not good like apple. Dragons mostly do not eat fruit,¡± Fathom shifted his wings in a shrug. ¡°Maybe first dragon who make alcohol is strange and like fruit.¡±
¡°¡I understand,¡± Pryce said, feeling a little foolish at not considering that possibility. It would be difficult to accidentally make alcohol if one had no reason to store fruit in the first place. There was one more thing that he wanted to ask; ¡°Why does the brewer clan get the south part of the island? Is it¡good?¡±
¡°Yes, wind is weak, no storms, much food. My old territory¡more south than here,¡± Fathom explained, looking down at the mention of his lost territory. He sulked for a few seconds before looking back at Pryce, who was standing completely still, eyes wide open.
¡°¡haha¡hahaHAHA! He was right!¡± Pryce whooped, pumping both fists into the air.
¡°Who was right?¡± Fathom asked, confused and a little wary of this sudden outburst from the normally quiet human.
¡°Wright ¨C I mean,¡± Pryce stammered as he calmed himself down, then wondered how to explain that his friend Wright had predicted that there would be little to no storms at the equator due to something he called the Coriolis
[1] effect¡but to explain that, he needed to explain a lot more things.
¡°Earth is all of this,¡± Pryce said, gesturing at the entire map. ¡°Earth spin ¨C¡± Pryce cut himself off as he looked at Fathom¡¯s confused expression. ¡°Question: You know Earth spin, yes?¡± Pryce asked warily.
¡°Spin how?¡± Fathom asked, tilting his head.
Oh no.
Pryce brought out the globe and lit the lantern, then placed the globe in front of Fathom and the lantern a few meters away. ¡°This is sun, this is Earth,¡± he gestured at the lantern and the globe respectively. ¡°Move your head here,¡± he beckoned, and Fathom acquiesced slowly.
Pryce guided Fathom¡¯s head until his eyes were as close to the island as possible. ¡°We are here, sunrise is this,¡± he explained, rotating the globe and guiding his head until the lantern came into view. ¡°Earth spin, understand?¡±
Fathom stared, confused, and Pryce¡¯s hopes he would miraculously grasp the unintuitive truth dwindled away with each passing second.
¡°No feel spin, why you say earth spin?¡± He asked, more baffled than objecting.
¡°Because Earth¡spins!¡± Pryce said, at a loss at how to explain it. What could he do to prove that the Earth spun on an axis? It took decades and decades of astronomical observations with sophisticated equipment for humanity to prove that they weren¡¯t at the center of the universe, and that the heavens didn¡¯t revolve around them. That was obviously not an option, so the only thing he could do was explain things that the geocentric model could not.
¡°Dragons watch stars, name stars, yes?¡± Pryce asked excitedly.
¡°¡Yes? You know this,¡± Fathom said, uncertain what Pryce was getting at.
¡°Question: You see stars that move? Move differently from other stars?¡±
¡°Yes, they are called¡things that don¡¯t stay in one place, like dragon that no have home.¡±
¡°Wanderer!¡± Pryce cheered, unable to contain his excitement as he realized dragons named planets the same thing that humans did, planet being an old word for ¡®wanderer¡¯. He felt an indescribable sort of kinship at that revelation, but did his best to ignore it for now. ¡°Stars that wander are called ¡®planets¡¯, ¡®planet¡¯ is an old word for ¡®wanderer¡¯,¡± he explained.
¡°Human name for wanderer is same as dragon word meaning?¡± Fathom asked, eyes widening a little.
¡°Yes!¡±
¡°Strange, but¡good,¡± Fathom said, looking at Pryce with wings shifting in what Pryce hoped was excitement or happiness. ¡°Humans not very different from dragons.¡±
¡°Yes, very, very good!¡± Pryce affirmed. ¡°Do you know why planets wander?¡±
¡°Planets wander¡because they wander,¡± Fathom shrugged.
¡°No, they wander because they go around the sun, like Earth,¡± Pryce said, sketching out a diagram of the inner solar system. ¡°This is Earth, this is Venus, Venus is the brightest planet, Jupiter is the second brightest, Mercury is the third brightest, Saturn is the fourth brightest, Mars is the fifth brightest, Uranus is the sixth brightest, and Neptune is the seventh brightest.¡±
¡°Eight planets? I only see six planets,¡± Fathom said.
¡°Uranus and Neptune are very dim, hard to see with eyes,¡± Pryce explained.
¡°How do humans see? Your eyes no good like dragon eyes,¡± Fathom asked, his tone devoid of any derision.
¡°Humans use telescopes, telescope is like microscope, but let human see far thing and not small thing,¡± Pryce explained, already walking back to the ship to retrieve the telescope. The islands were at lower latitudes where never-before-seen stars would be visible, so the ship had two telescopes to allow the crew¡¯s astronomers to conduct observations.
One could use the stars for navigation, but it was an older, more complicated, and less accurate method than the ones Pryce had learned, so there was no real reason to use them unless somehow both chronometers and two radios broke during the expedition.
He also found an astronomy textbook that included a diagram of the solar system, so he brought that out too.
He was so excited to show Fathom the stars that it was only after he had planted the telescope into the sand that he realized it wasn¡¯t even noon yet.
¡°¡you can use telescope at night to see stars and planets,¡± Pryce said, ¡°and you can use telescope to see things far away in daytime.¡±
¡°You forgot you can only use telescope at night?¡± Fathom asked, seeing through this awkward piece of improvisation.
¡°N-no¡¡±
The dragon rumbled skeptically, but said nothing more. Pryce cleared his throat and opened the textbook to the page depicting the diagram of the solar system.
¡°Here is ¡®solar system¡¯, solar system means sun and planets,¡± Pryce said, gesturing to the entire page. ¡°Planets are Mercury, Venus, Earth, Mars, Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, Neptune,¡± he said as he tapped on each planet. ¡°Planets look close on paper, but are very very far away from each other, like island on map.¡±
¡°Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, Neptune, all bigger than Earth?¡± Fathom said doubtfully as he inspected the diagram. ¡°These no look like planets,¡± he added.
¡°Yes, much bigger, and they do, I¡¯ll show you at night,¡± Pryce said as he adjusted the telescope so he could clearly see the distant shores that jutted out to the east a kilometer or two south of his location. ¡°Put eye here, like microscope.¡±
Fathom did so, then a few seconds later drew his head up to look at the trees Pryce had pointed the telescope at with his own eyes, and Pryce noticed his iris shifting rapidly. Time to test something that he¡¯d been suspecting for some time now.
¡°Look through telescope again,¡± Pryce said, and when Fathom did so he turned the dial to adjust the magnification. ¡°Your eyes, can they do this?¡±
¡°Yes, but not much like this,¡± Fathom said, his tone tinged with wonder. Pryce had set the magnification to 200x, with that he should be able to see the bark of those distant trees in great detail.
Pryce turned some knobs and adjusted the telescope down to 2x magnification. ¡°You see better or worse than this?¡±
¡°I see much better than this,¡± Fathom said.
Pryce adjusted it to 4x magnification. ¡°How about this?¡±
¡°¡I see much better.¡±
8x magnification. ¡°How about this?¡±
Fathom looked up and down several times to compare his sight with that of the telescope. ¡°Very close. How telescope do this?¡±
Pryce, dumbfounded by the dragon¡¯s amazing eyesight, wrote down ¡®~8x telescopic vision¡¯ in his notebook before answering. ¡°Telescope use glass, glass bend light, make small thing bigger, like magnifying glass and microscope,¡± Pryce explained, causing Fathom to nod half-heartedly.
Then he remembered he had a classic science experiment to show Fathom, and pulled the magnifying glass from the day before out of his pocket. ¡°Magnifying glass can make fire,¡± Pryce said, hoping that would get the dragon¡¯s attention.
Fathom immediately perked upon hearing those words. ¡°How glass make fire?¡± He asked, dubiously.
Pryce grinned widely, rubbing his hands together in pyromaniacal glee.
¡°Is hot,¡± Fathom said.
¡°You can feel that?¡± Pryce asked, surprised.
¡°Feel it here,¡± Fathom said, tapping the front of his muzzle. Pryce squinted and leaned closer, and was reminded of the tiny snake-like pits he¡¯d seen long ago. This certainly confirmed that they served the same purpose as the organs that they resembled, meaning dragons could sense heat ¨C specifically some range of IR light given off by warm objects.
¡°Human can feel heat through skin,¡± Pryce said absently, and focused on holding the magnifying glass steady over a dark knot in the wood. ¡°Not as good as dragon heat-sense, probably,¡± he elaborated.
A lot of people didn¡¯t know it, but human skin has the ability to sense IR light, which explains why one can feel the heat of a flame when the air wasn¡¯t hot yet ¨C something very obvious if you stand some distance from a plume of fire. Dragons had forward-facing pit-organs, which probably meant they used it to hunt prey, or perhaps they used it for some other purpose Pryce didn¡¯t know of yet.
¡°What you use heat-sense for?¡± Pryce asked as the wood began smoking.
¡°Find¡warm things,¡± Fathom said, sounding evasive.
¡°What warm things?¡± Pryce asked, narrowing his eyes in suspicion.
¡°Find¡Food¡raptors¡see egg temperature,¡± Fathom listed, not quite looking him in the eyes as he did so.
Pryce waited a few more seconds, but Fathom refused to divulge any more information. He was going to ask him to elaborate, but decided to question him later as the wood was catching fire.
¡°See? Magnifying glass make fire.¡±
¡°¡yes¡but I do not understand.¡± Fathom looked very confused, his spines twitching uncertainly.
¡°No understand what?¡±
¡°How glass make fire? Life make fire, glass no live.¡±
¡°Oh, glass take sun light, bend it, much sunlight in small area, sunlight heat wood, wood burn,¡± Pryce explained, then blinked. ¡°Wait, what do you mean life make fire?¡±
¡°Life make fire,¡± Fathom said with a shrug of his wings, as if it were obvious.
¡°¡Example?¡± Pryce asked, very confused.
¡°Dragons have fire, dragons have life. Sun is big fire, sun have life,¡± Fathom explained, warily. He¡¯d definitely noticed the trend of Pryce disproving dragonkind¡¯s long-held beliefs.
¡°Correction: dragons are alive, and raptors are alive, but raptors do not have fire, humans do not have fire. Most animals do not have fire,¡± Pryce protested.
¡°Dragon are more alive, have fire. Dead things no have fire.¡±
Pryce hummed, thinking of ways to dispute this theory. Ancient humans probably had something similar, he¡¯d just have to teach whatever they learned to Fathom.
He excused himself from the dragon to go get a photobook ¨C one of the crew was a biologist named Charles Hawkins who was a hobbyist photographer, and had an album of his favorite pictures. Pryce recalled Charles mentioning lightning bolts as one of his many subjects, and sure enough he found several images of the phenomena. He could have probably explained lightning to Fathom, but having a picture was so much easier, not to mention less ambiguous.
Next, Pryce scoured the ship for some quartz crystals, but he couldn¡¯t find any until he remembered he had a few barbeque lighters. He also grabbed a clear glass cup and some candles for the science experiment.
He rushed back out to the impatient dragon, materials cradled in his arms.
¡°Sorry, took more minutes than I expected,¡± he apologized as he set the pile down. ¡°This is lightning, you know lightning, yes?¡± He asked, holding up the picture of a lightning strike.
¡°Yes, I know lightning,¡± Fathom said. ¡°Lightning make big noise.¡±
¡°Yes, very big noise, and lightning also make fire,¡± Pryce said, and Fathom nodded. ¡°Cloud make lightning, lightning make fire, how lightning make fire if cloud not alive?¡±
¡°Cloud¡make lightning,¡± Fathom said, as if he were asked to justify the color of the sky.
¡°And this is lighter, lighter make flame,¡± he said, igniting said flame with a click. ¡°Lighter not alive, but lighter make flame.¡± Seeing as Fathom still seemed skeptical, Pryce asked, ¡°Spark is small lightning, you see spark when I make flame?¡± And flicked the flame on and off.
¡°¡yes, very small spark.¡±
¡°Good, spark is made from rock, rock type name is ¡®quartz¡¯,¡± Pryce explained. ¡°When you hit rock, it make sparks, you know quartz?¡±
¡°¡You know rocks that make sparks?¡± Fathom asked, eyes widening in surprise. ¡°Quartz are alive,¡±
¡°No, quartz is rock, rock no alive.¡±
¡°Quartz not alive, quartz have life¡heat,¡± Fathom said, shifting in what seemed to be agitation.
Life-heat? Heat was energy, did Fathom mean some kind of life-energy? ¡°Okay, name of life-heat is life-energy. Do dragons think fire is alive, or alive things have fire?¡±
¡°¡what is difference?¡±
Seeing as he wasn¡¯t making much progress, Pryce scribbled down what he learned about draconic beliefs regarding life to organize his thoughts:
Dragons believe:
- Fire represents (or perhaps is) life force/energy.
- Only dragons have strong enough life force to make flame.
- Abiotic forms of fire are explained via mythology:
- Sun: Believed to be a great source of fire
- Lightning: Unknown (Fathom might not have the vocabulary to explain lightning yet)
- Quartz/Piezoelectric crystals: Believed to contain life force, which is why they can make sparks.
¡°Mountain that make fire is ¡®Volcano¡¯, are there any volcanoes here on this island?¡± Pryce asked, curious to see how dragons explained that natural phenomenon.
¡°Yes, volcano very dangerous. Volcano is also part of Earth, Earth is alive,¡± Fathom said, answering the question Pryce was going to ask.
Pryce supposed it wasn¡¯t unreasonable as far as primitive theories of reality went, he could at least see how dragons came to such a conclusion.
¡°Humans think all life is cells, or is many cells,¡± Pryce told Fathom, deciding to teach the dragon the human theory instead of trying to dispute his. ¡°If something does not have cells, it is not alive.¡± There were many other traits people considered living things to have, but this was the most important one. ¡°Fire no have cells, and rock no have cells.¡±
Fathom considered this for a few moments before asking, ¡°¡What do humans think is fire?¡±
Pryce rubbed his neck, ¡°¡this is complicated, but I try to teach you. Fire need three things: One: fuel, two: oxygen, three: heat,¡± he began simply with the names, then tried to explain what each did, ¡°Fuel for dragon fire is the gas you breathe out, then fuels is like food. Oxygen is in air, you can not see it, and fire needs heat to exist.¡±
¡°Oxygen in air?¡± Fathom echoed.
¡°Yes, air is mostly two types of gasses: air is 86% nitrogen and 13% oxygen
[2]."
Fathom scowled at this, spines flattening. ¡°What is gas that is 1%? How do you know this?¡± He rumbled.
¡°Remaining 1% is other things, and many humans do much work to find these percentages, and I can prove there is oxygen in air! This is candle,¡± Pryce said, lighting the candle and covering it with the glass cup. ¡°Fire need fuel, oxygen, and heat. Candle is fuel, I give candle heat, and oxygen is in the air.¡±
Pryce took a step back, ¡°Now, fire need oxygen like fire need fuel. No fuel, no fire. No oxygen, no fire. So, what happens if fire eat all oxygen in air?¡± He grinned, just as the candle sputtered and died.
He smiled at Fathom, who stared puzzled at the extinguished candle.
¡°¡fire candle again,¡± Fathom said stubbornly.
¡°Correction: Light the candle again,¡± Pryce said, and repeated the experiment. Same result.
Fathom grumbled, sounding frustrated. ¡°This¡I do not know, but you light candle with fire, different from heat.¡±
¡°I light candle with lighter, lighter use spark, spark is not fire.¡±
¡°Spark is¡different type of fire,¡± Fathom insisted.
¡°I can prove heat make fire,¡± Pryce sighed, not looking forward to rubbing sticks together until they started burning.
Pryce initially thought he would have to create a bow-drill from scratch, but realized he only needed to prove that sheer heat could start a fire from scratch, so he simply whittled a stick until it fit into the socket of a speed wrench. The only other thing he needed was a piece of dry wood with a hole drilled into it, and to cut a notch into that hole for the hot wood shavings.
It took him some time to whittle the wood down, but it was not difficult work with the quality tools aboard the ship. All he needed to do was to spin the stick in the hole really fast, and the shavings that built up in the notch would eventually become hot enough to start a fire.
Fathom looked at him like he was crazy while he spun the wrench as fast as possible, but a minute later it started to smolder, and a few minutes after that Pryce was able to get the shavings to ignite a scrap piece of paper.
¡°See?¡± Pryce gasped, ¡°Heat¡make¡flame¡¡±
¡°Yes¡¡± Fathom said, looking at Pryce as though he were equal parts concerned and impressed.
Pryce stood up, gesturing to the jar over the candle to speak between heaving breaths, ¡°Almost¡all fires¡eat¡¡±
¡°You slow down, stop,¡± Fathom said, pressing a knuckle against his chest to push him back down onto the sand.
¡°Yes, I¡rest¡¡± Pryce said, waving Fathom¡¯s foreclaws away. He took a drink from his water bottle and stood up after a minute. ¡°Better now,¡± he said, a little embarrassed. Though he felt much better than he had on day 20, it seemed he was still not quite recovered from the voyage if he tired this easily.
¡°Almost all fires eat oxygen and make carbon dioxide,¡± Pryce said once he had recovered his breath. ¡°This glass is full of carbon dioxide right now, and you can not see carbon dioxide,¡± he added since Fathom was peering at the glass very intently. ¡°Carbon dioxide is heavier than air, so I can do¡this,¡± he said, flipping the cup upside down and retrieving the candle so as to not disturb the invisible gas inside.
Pryce took his water bottle and poured its contents into another glass. ¡°Moving water like this is called ¡®pouring¡¯, what happens if I pour this glass of carbon dioxide onto the candle?¡±
Fathom stared at the glass, then at him. ¡°This glass?¡± He asked in disbelief, pointing at the seemingly empty container.
¡°Yes.¡±
¡°¡There is nothing in glass,¡± Fathom said.
¡°No, there is carbon dioxide in the glass,¡± Pryce said, lighting the candle and then slowly lifting the cup over the flame. His eyes flicked up to Fathom watching the flame warily, and poured.
One second later, the candle died.
¡°See? Because no oxygen in here, only carbon dioxide, so fire no have oxygen. Fire die,¡± Pryce said, certain that this would convince the dragon.
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Fathom grumbled again, but begrudgingly admitted, ¡°¡you maybe not wrong.¡±
Pryce pumped his fist.
¡°But this no¡prove fire no alive,¡± Fathom said, and Pryce faltered, realizing he was technically correct.
¡°But lighter no alive, lighter is dead, dead thing no make living thing,¡± Pryce protested, ignoring the abiogenesis theory for now.
¡°Lighter have life-energy.¡±
Pryce made a frustrated noise and turned to pace along the beach.
¡°¡where you going?¡±
¡°I¡¯m thinking.¡±
¡°Why you move when you thinking?¡±
¡°I like it,¡± Pryce said, a little crossly.
¡°You strange.¡±
Pryce grumbled, and continued thinking. Any argument he could bring to bear would be countered with ¡®it has life-energy¡¯, so¡he¡¯d have to ask Fathom to justify his beliefs.
¡°What is life-energy?¡± Pryce asked.
¡°Energy that life has,¡± Fathom said obviously.
¡°But you say some dead things have life-energy,¡±
¡°Yes,¡± Fathom said.
¡°Why?¡±
Fathom blinked in surprise. ¡°Why why?¡±
¡°Why do dead things have life-energy?¡±
¡°¡dead things have life-energy. Why wind blow? Why things go down?¡± Fathom asked by way of answering.
Convection and gravity, Pryce thought, but didn¡¯t bother saying out loud; that would just lead them down a different path.
Maybe he was approaching this incorrectly. If he considered ¡®life-heat as a sort of ¡®potential-energy¡¯, or ¡®energy¡¯ in general, things made a bit more sense.
¡°I can explain those things, but those are complicated. Life-energy does not explain why fire die when no oxygen, and does not explain why fire die when I pour carbon dioxide on it.¡±
¡°¡Yes,¡± Fathom said reluctantly.
¡°I think we need word that is more good than ¡®life-energy, you explain ¡®life-energy¡¯ more, I give new name,¡± Pryce tried, maybe a compromise would help Fathom accept it if this were a matter of pride.
¡°Life-energy is like¡thing that can make things happen,¡± Fathom said, slowly.
¡°Let''s just call it energy,¡± Pryce said. There would be plenty of time to iron out the details later.
¡°Energy,¡± Fathom echoed, nodding
¡°There are many types of energy,¡± Pryce said. ¡°Kinetic energy is energy of moving things, Thermal energy is energy of heat, Chemical energy is energy in things, like fire. There are more types, but they are more complicated.¡± Pryce explained.
¡°Thermal energy is heat, but fire is not thermal energy?¡± Fathom asked.
¡°Good question, thermal energy is heat, but wood has chemical energy that turns into thermal energy when it is on fire,¡± Pryce explained. ¡°Wood have high chemical energy, ash have low chemical energy.¡±
¡°¡understand, is some like life-heat,¡± Fathom said.
¡°Good,¡± Pryce said, nodding. ¡°You know that warm air goes up, yes?¡±
¡°Yes, how you know that? You no fly,¡± Fathom said, surprised.
Pryce explained to Fathom the concept of density, using rocks and water as an example. He already knew mass and surface area, so Pryce simply taught him volume and from there he was able to understand density. He then told Fathom that hot air was less dense than cold air, which made Fathom tilt his head.
¡°Hot air go up, but not less dense,¡± he said, skeptical of this claim.
¡°I can prove it,¡± Pryce said, setting up another science experiment. All of these experiments made him nostalgic, remembering the times where he himself watched these experiments with wide eyes¡as well as the times where he taught them to little John as well.
Pryce set up yet another experiment, this time with a plate that had a thin layer of water on it while a few lit candles sat in the middle of the plate. Then he dropped a coin onto the plate where it immediately sank to the bottom.
Pryce placed an empty glass cup next to the plate, and said, ¡°If you can take coin without touching water, you can have the coin.¡±
¡°Without?¡±
¡°Without means ¡®no¡¯,¡± Pryce said, a little apologetically.
Fathom didn¡¯t do his customary snort at the redundancy of human language, instead focusing on the plate with the coin. A second later, he flipped the plate over, spilling water over the crate and picking up the coin that had fallen onto the sand.
Pryce tilted his head, conceding the point. ¡°Clever, but this time do it without touching the plate or the water,¡± he said as he reset the puzzle.
Fathom then pushed the crate onto its side, picked up the second coin and looked at Pryce expectantly.
Pryce took a deep breath. ¡°Very clever, my mistake,¡± he admitted, resetting the puzzle for a third time. ¡°This time pick up the coin without moving the crate, or the plate, or touching the water.¡±
Fathom looked around for a few seconds, then picked up a twig ¨C though for a human it would¡¯ve been a branch ¨C and pushed the coin out of the water to earn his fourth coin.
Pryce clicked his tongue, impressed but a little irritated now. Ignoring the happily smug look on Fathom¡¯s face, Pryce reset the puzzle for the fifth and what he intended to be the final time. He could have just done the demonstration himself, but this was a point of pride now.
He was going to say, ¡®This time pick up the coin without moving the crate, or the plate, or touching the water, only using the things on the crate,¡¯ but realized the dragon would probably push the coin out of the water with the cup.
¡°Move water away from coin without moving crate, plate, candles, or coin.¡±
Fathom thought for a few seconds before asking, ¡°I use fire?¡±
¡°¡No, you may not use fire,¡± Pryce answered, glad that Fathom had bothered to ask. ¡°No blowing either,¡± he said, seeing Fathom open his mouth again.
¡°I wait, water go away.¡±
¡°You have sixty seconds.¡±
¡°You do not say this before,¡± Fathom grumbled, and stared pouting at the coin until the minute mark passed. ¡°You can not do this,¡± Fathom declared when Pryce told him a minute had elapsed.
¡°Thing no person can do is ¡®impossible¡¯,¡± Pryce said, picking up the glass. ¡°But this¡¡± he placed the cup over the candles, and air began bubbling through water at the bottom of the glass, until the candles died from the lack of oxygen. ¡°¡is not impossible,¡± he finished, just as the water was quickly sucked up into the glass, causing Fathom to draw his head back in surprise.
[3]
¡°What? What is this? How do you do this?!¡± Fathom hissed, eyes darting back and forth from the puzzle to Pryce as the human picked up the coin.
¡°When air is hot, it gets bigger. You see when air go away from inside of glass to outside of glass? Air go away because it has more volume.¡±
Fathom rumbled as he chewed on this piece of information, then asked, ¡°But how water go into glass?¡±
Pryce considered making him think about it some more, but decided to simply tell him. ¡°Water go up because when fire go out, air not getting warmer, air get colder. When air get cold it shrink, pulls water up. When air hot, it push air out, when air cold, it pull air in,¡± he explained.
Fathom stared at the upside-down cup that still had water inside of it, thinking about what Pryce said. ¡°Anything hot, expand?¡±
¡°Yes, but some things expand very little. Hot water does not expand much, for example.¡±
¡°Understand¡¡±
¡°This is what causes wind,¡± Pryce added, causing Fathom to snap his attention back at him.
¡°You¡know what make wind?¡± He asked softly, almost¡reverently?
¡°Uh¡yes,¡± Pryce said, surprised by this sudden change in attitude. ¡°Hot air go up, cold air go down. Hot air go up, high up into sky where air is cold, hot air become cold, hot air is now cold air and goes down.¡± Pryce grabbed a fistful of sand and scattered it onto the surface of the crate, then blew down on it from above, scattering sand everywhere.
¡°Air come down, become wind. Wind is very very complicated, but this is what make wind. Air going up and down because of temperature is called ¡®convection¡¯,¡± he summarized, then asked, ¡°Question: Why you so¡surprised?¡± He asked. He hadn¡¯t taught the word ¡®surprised¡¯ to Fathom yet, but it was obvious that was what the dragon was feeling.
¡°¡dragons do not know¡where wind come from,¡± Fathom began, choosing his words carefully. ¡°Wind is strong, dragon no fly if wind is¡wrong direction. Dragon can only find good wind, fly with wind direction. If wind very strong dragon fall,¡± he said, a shudder running along the great length of his spine.
Pryce nodded, understanding. To dragons, the wind was a mysterious invisible force that you couldn¡¯t fight. They didn¡¯t know where it came from or where it went, but they knew it was strong.
¡°Understand. North of island have more storms than south of island, yes?¡±
¡°Yes¡you sound like you know this, how you know this?¡±
Pryce smiled, finally having arrived full circle at the topic that started all of today¡¯s conversation. ¡°My friend, Wright, he said that there were no storms at equator, very few people believe him, very few people think he was right.¡±
¡°Your friend name is Wright¡same as right like right and wrong?¡± Fathom asked, flattening his spines.
¡°It¡¯s written differently, but¡yes, pronounced same,¡± Pryce said sheepishly. ¡°Human have first name and second name, first name is name for person, second name is family name. All persons in family have same family name.¡±
¡°Strange,¡± Fathom noted. ¡°Dragon name no meaning, but if dragon is¡very very good, dragon name can become meaning.¡±
¡°Interesting,¡± Pryce said, jotting that down. ¡°Anyway, what I was saying was Wright¡¯s first name was Maximilian, but that name is long, so many people call him Max.¡±
¡°Wait, your name, ¡®Pryce¡¯ is first name or family name?¡±
¡°Pryce is family name.¡±
¡°What is your first name? Why you not give me first name?¡± He asked, sounding a little wounded.
Pryce shrugged apologetically, ¡°My first name is Alexander, or Alex. I work as healer, most people call healers by family name, so most people call me Pryce. I wanted to say that I¡¯m going to use Wright¡¯s first name, ¡®Max¡¯, so we won¡¯t confuse wright and right.¡±
¡°What is confuse?¡±
¡°This,¡± Pryce said drily, unable to resist the low-hanging fruit.
¡°What?¡±
¡°Not knowing is confuse,¡± he elaborated.
¡°¡understand. Human language confuse me.¡±
¡°Exactly. Now as I was saying,¡± Pryce said, annoyed at getting derailed so many times, ¡°Max was right ¨C¡±
¡°Wright was¡right?¡± Fathom said, eyes glinting with amusement.
¡°¡yes, Max was right,¡± Pryce said through gritted teeth, hoping that the dragon wasn¡¯t going to start making puns all day. ¡°And as I was saying, Max guessed right ¨C that there would be no storms at the equator.¡±
¡°How he know this if he not here?¡± Fathom asked, tone filed with skepticism.
¡°Because humans know Earth spins,¡± Pryce said. ¡°I said earlier convection make wind, but other things make wind go faster or slower. Wind can make wind go faster, ground can make wind go faster or slower.¡±
¡°Ground no make wind go faster,¡± Fathom said, sounding more exasperated by the notion.
¡°Circumference is length of distance around equator. Earth circumference is 40,080 kilometers at equator, Earth spin once in a day, so Earth is spinning very fast at equator, ground is moving very fast. Ground move at 464 meters in one second.¡±
Fathom looked at the ground, and then at the Pryce as if he were insane. ¡°How you know Earth circumference?¡± He asked incredulously.
¡°I explain later. Ground is moving. You can not see it move because you are moving very fast too,¡± he explained, trying to come up with a more intuitive explanation. ¡°See this rock?¡± Pryce asked, tossing a small rock up and catching it. ¡°If you catch rock, you feel rock¡¯s weight, yes?¡± Seeing Fathom nod reluctantly, he continued, ¡°Now if you fly and someone throw rock at you, it hurt because rock is moving in different direction than you, but if you fly while holding rock, rock no hurt, why?¡± He stared expectantly at Fathom.
¡°Rock no hurt¡because rock has speed like me,¡± the dragon said in realization.
¡°Yes! When things are not different, they are the same, rock has same speed as you!¡± Pryce cheered, ¡°Rock does not feel like it move fast, even if you fly very very fast, because it has same speed as you.¡± He tapped the sandy beach beneath him. ¡°No feel Earth move, because you move. Earth is like dragon, you are like rock.¡±
Fathom closed his eyes for a moment and opened them again. ¡°Complicated.¡±
¡°Yes, but this is right,¡± Pryce said. ¡°Because air touches ground, air at equator is moving very fast, distance traveled in one second is called ¡®meters per second¡¯, and air at Earth¡¯s equator is traveling 464 meters per second faster than air at the poles, which are here,¡± he said, tapping at said location on the globe.
¡°Air move fast, make storm¡?¡± Fathom asked.
¡°Good guess, almost right,¡± Pryce said. ¡°Ground move fast, so ground make air move fast. Storm happens when air from equator move north or south.¡± Here Pryce paused, realizing he needed to explain something else.
¡°If you throw rock straight up, what happens?¡± Pryce asked.
¡°¡rock go up, then down?¡± Fathom asked uncertainly, as if Pryce was about to prove that the rock would go flying off into the stars.
¡°Yes,¡± Pryce said, visibly relieving the dragon. ¡°Now what happens if you are flying and you throw rock up?¡±
¡°Rock go up, then down,¡± Fathom said, more confidently this time.
¡°But down where? If you fly at same speed, can you catch rock?¡±
¡°Yes, rock will fall down to me.¡±
¡°Exactly!¡± Pryce said, sketching out a diagram in the sand. ¡°If you throw rock when not flying, rock go up and down,¡± he said, sketching a line that doubled back on itself. ¡°But if you throw rock up while flying, rock go up and then down like this,¡± he sketched a parabolic arch to show how the rock would have to move horizontally to fall where the dragon would be by the time it descended.
¡°I understand this,¡± Fathom said. ¡°But how this make storm?¡±
¡°Because wind is like rock in this example,¡± he said, pointing at the diagram. ¡°Wind at equator is moving fast, when wind go north, it still moving fast east, so it goes like this,¡± he traced an arch on the globe just like the stone had, without the second half.
¡°How this make storm?¡± Fathom asked again, a little impatiently.
¡°I¡¯m getting to that, remember when I tell you hot air rise? When hot air rise, it makes air around the area to go under it,¡± he did his best to sketch this effect into the sand, drawing a mushroom shape.
¡°¡Like candle in glass, make water go up,¡± Fathom noted.
¡°Yes, very good!¡± Pryce said, pointing a finger at the dragon without looking at him. ¡°This is called a low-pressure system, because it makes air around it go into it. Now, because Earth is spinning, the air from north pole also goes the other way, because it is slower,¡± he explained, drawing an arch that opposed the wind coming from the equator. ¡°When this wind and this wind meet at a low-pressure system, it makes a hurricane, a big storm,¡± he finished.
¡°¡that is storm?¡± Fathom asked dubiously.
¡°Yes, hurricane is big storm, hurricanes are very very big, many hundreds of kilometers, I have photo,¡± he added, rushing into the ship and back out within a minute.
He showed Fathom the low-resolution image of a hurricane, though the eye was still clear.
[4]
¡°Hurricane have¡thing in it?¡± Fathom asked, digging a hole in the sand.
¡°Thing is hole, and yes. This is called the ¡®eye of the storm¡¯, is at the center of a hurricane,¡± Pryce explained, then asked, ¡°Have you heard of dragons seeing storm, then storm stops, then storm starts again?¡±
¡°¡yes, is dangerous. Some dragon go fly after hurricane¡then hurricane start again,¡± Fathom said slowly, ¡°is because of¡the eye of the storm?¡±
¡°Yes, exactly,¡± Pryce said solemnly. ¡°See this? This is spin clockwise, this is spin counterclockwise,¡± he said, sketching circles in the sand. Then he went on to explain, ¡°Hurricanes north of equator always spin counterclockwise. Humans guess hurricanes south of equator always spin clockwise, but we no see this yet.¡±
Fathom considered this new piece of knowledge, then asked, ¡°Hurricane almost always come from east, go west¡why?¡±
¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± Pryce admitted, surprising Fathom. ¡°I do know the counterclockwise spin makes hurricane go north, but not why they go east to west. Someone who knows much about something is an expert, and I am not an expert about hurricanes, I am an expert about cells and healing. I not sure if other humans know, but this is some of why we come here, to learn about many things, things like this.¡±
¡°Humans¡understand this¡without be here¡¡± Fathom said, not a question. ¡°¡what is word for very, very, good?¡± Fathom asked.
¡°Word is ¡®Amazing¡¯, why?¡± Pryce asked, looking up at Fathom curiously.
¡°Humans very small, not strong, but¡amazing.¡±
Pryce looked away, rubbing his neck.
¡°Thanks.¡±
¡°See stars now?¡± The dragon asked, for the fifth time.
Pryce gave the response he had given the last four times, ¡°Soon.¡±
Fathom grumbled and sat back down, muttering something either too low to be heard or not in English.
Pryce wanted his first look of a planet to be as ideal as possible given the current position of the planets; mars was quite far, but Venus, Jupiter, and Saturn were reasonably close. He looked up to the sky again; It was twilight now, so the haze of the sun would be disappearing over the horizon soon. Many stars were already visible, even a band of white that was the milky way, but it wouldn¡¯t be as good as if the night sky were completely dark.
First, he aimed the telescope at the moon, starting at 40x magnification to locate the natural satellite more easily. Once he located the moon, he zeroed in on it, increasing the magnification until the natural satellite took up the entire span of the eyepiece.
¡°Look,¡± Pryce called out to Fathom, who padded over eagerly. ¡°Slowly, don¡¯t move the telescope,¡± Pryce warned, and sighed as the dragon¡¯s foreclaws accidentally shifted the sand beneath the telescope, completely misaligning it.
¡°Wait,¡± he said, looking through the eyepiece and re-adjusted the instrument while an impatient Fathom grumbled over his shoulder.
¡°¡if you slowed down, I would not need to do this,¡± Pryce chided, stepping aside once he had the moon in view again. Just as he did so, Fathom immediately brought his head to the eyepiece, copying Pryce. He went still as he peered into the lens with rapt attention.
[5]
¡°Telescope let you see small things called ¡®details¡¯, moon much more detailed if you use telescope than if you use eyes, yes?¡±
¡°¡yes,¡± Fathom rumbled absently. ¡°How see moon like this, telescope is point up?¡±
¡°There is a mirror in the telescope,¡± Pryce explained, realizing it was odd to look down into the eyepiece and see something up in the sky.
¡°¡Understand ¨C !¡± Fathom cut himself off with a hiss; he had bumped his eye into the eyepiece as he tried to look more closely at the telescope. He blinked rapidly as he shook his head, and soon tried to look at the moon again. ¡°Where is moon?¡±
¡°You moved the telescope, telescope not pointing at moon anymore,¡± Pryce said. ¡°Let me fix it.¡±
¡°Telescope can go closer?¡±
¡°Telescope can go closer,¡± Pryce confirmed, finding the moon again and turning the knob to the maximum 200x magnification.
[5]
¡°Tell me if you want telescope to go left, right, up, or down,¡± Pryce told the dragon, crouching down so he could adjust the telescope while allowing Fathom to see the moon.
¡°¡Right¡down¡down,¡± the dragon said as soon as he resumed his position. ¡°Why is some of moon not light?¡±
¡°Not light is dark,¡± Pryce said, ¡°and we don¡¯t know why some of moon is dark, humans long time ago think dark spots on the moon were oceans, but they are not.¡±
¡°Not oceans? How do you know?¡± Fathom asked without looking away from the telescope.
¡°Humans have stronger telescopes, much stronger than this one, we see oceans are just dark rocks.¡±
¡°¡understand,¡± Fathom said.
¡°Moon very far away, so high that there is no air,¡± Pryce explained.
¡°¡understand, dragon fly up and can not blow air,¡± Fathom said after a few seconds.
¡°¡¯Blow air¡¯ is breathing, and yes, that makes sense.¡±
¡°What is ¡®sense¡¯? How that ¡®make¡¯ sense?¡±
¡°Uh, ¡®make sense¡¯ is like saying you can understand something, or something is understandable.¡±
¡°¡Makes sense?¡±
¡°Yes, exactly.¡±
¡°¡wait, how humans know there no air high up? You can not fly,¡± Fathom asked, looking away from the telescope for the first time.
¡°Mainland have mountains,¡± Pryce said simply. ¡°Human go up mountains, go up mountain is ¡®climb¡¯.¡±
¡°Makes sense.¡±
¡°Also, humans can fly.¡±
¡°What? How?!¡± Fathom reeled about, knocking over the telescope.
¡°Hey, telescope is fragile!¡± Pryce scolded.
Fathom had the grace to duck his head a little in a shamefaced way, but that did not stop him from asking, ¡°How humans fly?!¡±
¡°Humans make machine, like chronometer and ship, ship fly with human on it,¡± he explained.
Fathom mulled over this for a few seconds, then asked, ¡°¡like machine you use to make photo of island?¡±
¡°Yes, like that,¡± Pryce answered, though the vast majority of planes used propellors for thrust. Jets were used to provide thrust for airplanes, but they were inefficient compared to propeller planes. As such, commercial jet aircraft were solely used for time-sensitive shipments or by very rich individuals. The handful of non-military jet planes in existence were owned by the largest companies or the richest people on the island.
¡°You have fly machine here?¡±
¡°No, I don¡¯t have a flying machine here,¡± Pryce shook his head.
¡°You have photo of flying machine?¡± Fathom pressed.
¡°¡I think so, I find tomorrow, I can¡¯t see good in dark.¡±
¡°I can,¡± Fathom said, completely unpersuaded.
¡°I show you photos tomorrow,¡± Pryce promised, and aimed the telescope somewhere else. ¡°We see planets tonight.¡±
Fathom rumbled, not entirely placated. ¡°Planet is light, like star, not new thing like flying machine.¡±
Pryce grinned and continued to calibrate the telescope for another few minutes before stepping aside, ¡°Remember how you see details on moon?¡±
Fathom¡¯s head snaked forward to look into the eyepiece and stilled. ¡°What¡what is this?¡±
¡°This is Venus, can¡¯t see the orange with your eyes, can you?¡± Pryce asked.
Fathom didn¡¯t answer, only continued to stare at that little orange dot through the telescope, and periodically looked away to see the dot with his own eyes.
¡°Here, let me show you Jupiter,¡± Pryce said, but Fathom wordlessly refused to budge. He sighed, and stood waiting until Fathom pulled his head away a few minutes later.
The dragon did not talk while he worked, and soon he located Jupiter. Astronomy was his hobby many years ago, and he was feeling quite nostalgic as he remembered things he had not thought of in many years. In the past decade he had spent so much time looking down at his work that he hadn¡¯t really looked up in a very long time; the complete lack of light or chemical pollution resulted in a night sky that was more beautiful than any he had ever seen.
¡°Done,¡± Pryce said, and Fathom quickly returned to looking through the eyepiece with scarcely any less enthusiasm than before, though he was careful to not disturb the telescope this time.
[6]
¡°Small lights are¡stars?¡± Fathom asked, confused by the anomaly.
¡°Those are moons,¡± Pryce said. ¡°Remember I showed you the diagram of the solar system earlier. Some other planets have moons too,¡± he said, repositioning the telescope to his next target. ¡°Mercury and Venus don¡¯t have moon, Earth has one big moon, Mars has two small moons, and Jupiter has at least ten moons, humans are still finding more. Some are much smaller than the four you see here.¡±
¡°Planets have¡moon - moons?¡± Fathom asked faintly.
¡°Yes, but look here, I saved the best for last.¡±
¡°What does this mean?¡±
Pryce shook his head. ¡°Look,¡± he said simply.
Fathom peered through the lens, and Pryce knew he saw the rings when his eyes widened saucer-like.
[6]
¡°Why does it look like¡this?¡± Fathom asked.
¡°Saturn has rings,¡± Pryce said. ¡°Rings are like¡¡± he trailed off and he looked around, and briefly wished he was wearing a ring. ¡°Rings are the outside of a circle. I show you better pictures from better telescopes tomorrow,¡± he yawned, feeling excitement wearing off and exhaustion beginning to take it¡¯s place.
Fathom looked at him and looked up at the sky. ¡°¡you point telescope at¡sky shiny things?¡±
¡°Sky shiny things? You mean the stars?¡± Pryce asked, puzzled. He already knew the words for stars, so why would he call it something roundabout like that?
¡°Yes stars, but¡like river,¡± Fathom tried, grasping for words.
A stick of stars? Like a band?
¡°Oh, you mean the milky way! Yes, of course,¡± Pryce said, feeling a little foolish at having forgotten something so important. ¡°Why did you call it sky shiny thing?¡±
¡°Dragon word for it, is shiny thing that sky have,¡± Fathom explained.
¡°¡Do all dragons want shiny things very much?¡± Pryce asked.
¡°Very yes,¡± Fathom said a little wistfully.
¡°Alright, human word for things you want very much is ¡®Treasure¡¯.¡±
Fathom tilted his head in thought, ¡°Sky Treasure?¡±
¡°If sky has treasure, then it would be ¡®Sky¡¯s Treasure¡¯,¡± Pryce corrected.
¡°Good word for this,¡± Fathom said. ¡°Some dragon call this Star River,¡± he added.
¡°That would be River of Stars, and that would have been easier to understand if you used those words first,¡± Pryce grumbled.
¡°I forgot, dragon use River of Stars less than Sky¡¯s Treasure,¡± Fathom said unapologetically.
¡°¡Hey, didn¡¯t you say English was bad for having many words for same thing?¡± Pryce asked, casting a sidelong glance at Fathom, who chose at that moment to be deaf.
¡°Well, here¡¯s the¡Sky¡¯s Treasure,¡± Pryce said, stepping out of the way before Fathom nudged him over to get to the telescope.
[7]
¡°Amazing,¡± Fathom rumbled, eyes glued to the telescope. He pulled his head away after a minute, then said quietly, ¡°You show me this island small, very small, then you show me moon, you show me other planets bigger than Earth. I am not small, but this,¡± he said, waving a wing vaguely at the sky, ¡°make me feel¡small,¡± he said, quietly.
Pryce wasn¡¯t sure what to say to that, but he placed his hand on the dragon¡¯s forearm consolingly; it was the only place he could reach without jumping. Fathom lowered his head further, and Pryce took it as an invitation, patting his muzzle. Fathom rumbled in response, and leaned into the petting; the scales were very warm, and while not soft, were not unpleasant to the touch.
¡°Humans much smaller than dragons, how do you think we feel?¡± He asked humorously.
Fathom snorted, ruffling Pryce¡¯s hair. ¡°You are very small,¡± he agreed.
¡°Humans feel small too, but that just means there¡¯s so much more to explore. Explore is learning about new places.¡±
¡°Like you explore here?¡± Fathom asked curiously.
¡°¡yes, like that,¡± Pryce said, glancing away. ¡°The world is big, many things to see, many things to learn,¡± he pulled his hand away and looked Fathom in the eyes. ¡°And there are worlds other than this one, one day I know we can see them all.¡±
¡°How you see planets? Telescope do not see very good.¡±
¡°We build better telescopes, and we build machines to go see planets,¡± Pryce said, eyes glimmering in the moonlight. ¡°One day in the future, we will send humans to the moon!¡±
Fathom pulled his head away, making a chuffing sort of noise. Pryce stepped back, surprised, until he realized the dragon was laughing.
¡°You can not go to the moon,¡± Fathom snorted, still chuckling. He paused when Pryce didn¡¯t respond, and realized he was serious. ¡°How you go to the moon?¡± He hissed in disbelief.
¡°Complicated, explain¡tomorrow,¡± Pryce shrugged, looking up at the night sky, ¡°Don¡¯t you want to go to the moon?¡±
¡°I¡¡± Fathom stammered, thrown off by the absurdity of the question. Judging by his reaction Pryce may as well have asked if he wanted to swim in the River of Stars. ¡°Can humans do that?¡± he asked, his glossy pupils full of uncertainty and doubt.
¡°One day. Maybe ten years, maybe one hundred years, but one day we will go to the moon.¡±
¡°How can you know that?¡±
Pryce tilted his head as he pondered how to answer the question with their limited vocabulary. "Humans in the past could not explore other lands, but I still came here."
Fathom rumbled, mulling over Pryce words. Finally, after half a minute he said, ¡°This island is¡big, but everywhere is territory of a dragon. No place is¡.¡¯new¡¯,¡± he said, speaking slowly. ¡°Before I see you, I no think of¡explore.¡±
¡°Maybe we can explore new things together,¡± Pryce suggested with a smile. ¡°For now, all we can do is watch the stars.¡±
¡°¡Yes,¡± Fathom said, and then looked up. ¡°Stars are very beautiful,¡± he noted distantly.
¡°Yeah, they really are,¡± Pryce agreed, yawning. He had to go to sleep soon, but he stayed a little longer to watch the starry sky with the dragon beside him.
[JOURNAL ENTRY]
Day 35,
I hit the first roadblock today.
It was bound to happen sooner or later, but Fathom¡¯s preconceived beliefs about the world are getting in the way of what I¡¯m trying to teach him. It¡¯s not bad, I simply need to show him enough proof that our theories explain things better than the draconic system of beliefs.
It helps to remember that many theories we use today are ''wrong''. Classical physics is incredibly precise and accurate, but still ''wrong'' because it fails to predict the movements of the stars (among other things). Despite this, no one uses general relativity unless they''re a theoretical physicist or a literal rocket scientist.
Why? Because classical physics is simply good enough.
In that regard, it is the same as the draconian theory of Life Force; it is a theory that can adequately describe what dragons needed to explain.
Even without this consideration, obtaining insight into their culture and values is of vital importance for any future negotiations or discussions. (In other words, know how to not piss off the fire breathing dragons)
As for my lessons...Logically, I should ask Fathom things about this island like threats and possible resources. I don¡¯t need to convince him that the Earth spins, or that the planets are not stars, or that they have moons, but¡I like it.
Not only is teaching him enjoyable, but doing so reminds me of how far we humans have come as a species. Despite our differences, our conflicts, and even the wars we wage, we¡¯ve still managed to bring our understanding of the world so far.
I wonder what a future of dragons and humans together would look like. I can''t even begin to imagine it, but damn if I don¡¯t want to see that. Who knows, maybe they could even help us land on the moon?
The past few days have reminded me of why I chose to do the things I¡¯ve done, and it¡¯s been¡soothing for my sense-of-self, for lack of a better term.
Though this may have come at the cost of shattering Fathom''s worldview several times.
Wound progress update: The wound has shrunk by another centimeter.
Chapter 16, Day 36: Hot Gas
¡°Good morning,¡± Fathom called out as he descended onto the beach.
¡°Good morning,¡± Pryce replied once the sand had settled enough for him to speak; at least without getting a mouthful of it.
¡°You teach me about how you go to moon now,¡± Fathom said; it sounded less like a request and more like a statement.
¡°I can not explain with words we have, is very complicated,¡± Pryce explained, trying to dissuade him.
¡°Try,¡± was the only word Fathom said in response.
¡°Okay,¡± Pryce said, pacing as he formed his thoughts. After a minute or so he stopped and turned to Fathom. ¡°Some types of gas can burn, which means it can be fire. For example, the gas you blow out can burn. Yesterday I teach you that burning fire make air expand,¡± he paused to pick up a glass bottle. ¡°If gas in here and you burn it, gas go outside here,¡± he said, pointing at the mouth of the bottle. "Humans take gas that can burn, and burn it. Gas expand, and gas pushes machine. Machine that is pushed by gas is called rocket, Understand?¡±
¡°Push is¡very weak,¡± Fathom said, confused. ¡°What can rocket do?¡±
¡°Humans make machine that make push strong, machine is called ¡®engine¡¯. Humans also use many many kilograms of fuel for rockets. Rocket that launch¡¡± he trailed off, causing Fathom to look at him expectantly. ¡°Did I tell you how we take pictures of island from high up?¡± Pryce asked, uncertain.
¡°No,¡± Fathom said. ¡°I ask, but you teach other things,¡± he said, a little reproachfully.
¡°Sorry, I forgot,¡± Pryce apologized, ¡°Humans send machine up with rocket, machine is called ¡®satellite¡¯. Satellite has camera on it, and rocket carry satellite around the Earth,¡± Pryce said, summarizing an extremely complicated process. ¡°Satellite use camera to take picture of Earth, then satellite land in ocean, and humans find it to get photos.¡±
¡°Makes sense¡? But humans do very strange things.¡±
Pryce shrugged. ¡°Rocket worked. Eventually.¡±
¡°What is ¡®eventually¡¯?¡±
¡°Means something that happen after long time, or something that happen after many fails.¡±
¡°Rockets fail¡?¡±
¡°Yes, first rocket explode before it go over horizon, second and third satellite no come back, fourth rocket send satellite up, but satellite burn up when it come back down, and fifth satellite hit water too hard, broke,¡± he rattled off the results of the failed launches. ¡°Sixth rocket get pictures, but not good ones, seventh rocket take this one, and eighth rocket take this one,¡± he said, pointing at the two maps.
¡°Rocket fail many times, human still make more?¡±
¡°Yes, why?¡± Pryce asked, puzzled.
¡°Dragons usually do not try again if they very fail. If dragon strong fail one time, probably die if try many times.¡±
¡°Correction: Dragons usually do not try again if they fail very hard,¡± Pryce said, and wondered what obstacles a dragon might try to overcome. Flying in bad weather? Hunting large game? Fighting rivals? He could see how perseverance may be a bad thing when your life was at risk. ¡°Strong fail is ¡®fail badly¡¯, and failures are¡good, failures teach us how to make better,¡± Pryce said.
¡°Failures¡good¡?¡± Fathom rumbled; a conflicted noise. He was evidently baffled by this backwards way of thinking, but if Pryce had to guess he couldn¡¯t exactly offer any reproach when faced with proof of their success.
¡°Humans no like failure,¡± Pryce clarified, ¡°but failure is how humans learn things. If you did not fail, you did not try. Do dragonets fail before they get good at flying?¡± He asked.
¡°That is different, parents help dragonet with flying,¡± Fathom said obstinately. ¡°If failure is good, then why you sad by your failure?¡±
The question was completely innocent of any ill-intent, it still made Pryce grimace before he could answer, ¡°¡failure is different when people die. If people die, they can not try again.¡±
¡°But you can try again?¡± Fathom asked, genuinely confused.
¡°I¡¡± Pryce said, falling off as he realized he didn¡¯t know what to say.
¡°You are not dead, if you are sad, that does not help dead people,¡± Fathom said reasonably.
¡°You are right, but I still¡feel sad,¡± he eventually forced out. Fathom did not verbally respond, but lowered his head and made a concerned interrogative noise. ¡°I¡¯m¡good,¡± Pryce reassured, unsure if he was lying or not. ¡°Do you have other questions?¡±
Fathom seemed to want to ask more about this topic, but acquiesced to ask, ¡°How rocket fly around Earth?¡±
Pryce took a deep breath to clear his mind, then picked up a very short twig and pointed at the globe, ¡°Rocket start on mainland, rocket fly up, then straight line like this,¡± he said, moving the twig from the mainland up and around the globe until it returned back to where the mainland was.
¡°If humans can fly, why you not fly here?¡± Fathom asked, his tone skeptical. It was probably quite difficult for him to imagine an aircraft ¨C for obvious reasons.
¡°Rocket take much much fuel, and can not carry much mass, also very hard to land.¡±
¡°¡but if rockets strong, why can not carry much mass?¡±
¡°¡good question, but it¡complicated,¡± Pryce shrugged. ¡°Ship carry much more things and use less fuel. Humans need many things to live on island. Need food, water, tools, medicine, weapons for 40 people.¡±
¡°Humans make machines that carry things?¡± Fathom asked.
¡°Yes, those are ¡®vehicles¡¯,¡± Pryce said, rummaging through various textbooks until he found the one he was looking for. "Ship is a vehicle, we have cars, airplanes, hot air balloons, and we had Zeppelins," he put each name to the respective photos.
"Had Zeppelins? You no have anymore?" Fathom asked, and Pryce was gladdened by his improvement in understanding past and future tenses.
"Zeppelin fly using hydrogen gas. Hydrogen gas is very light, so it floats. Balloon is like this," Pryce held out the soccer ball. "When a lot of gas burn, that is ''explosion'', Zeppelin have mistake, spark make hydrogen explode." He flipped to a page depicting the first and only crash, flaming debris strewn about the field.
"That...is bad."
"40 people died in that crash," Pryce said, quiet and low; several of his acquaintances had been among the fatalities.
"Humans know hydrogen explode, but you use them to fly?" Fathom asked incredulously.
"Yes."
"What is word for person who not act good, hurt self, say strange things?"
"Crazy is person who do very very strange things, stupid is person who do not think very good."
"Humans crazy-stupid."
Pryce withheld a snicker to explain defensively; "Hydrogen can not burn if there is no oxygen, but there was a leak and a spark, small spark make big explosion."
"Small spark? Did lightning not make explosion?" Fathom inquired.
¡°Good guess, but no.¡± Pryce retrieved a wool blanket from the ship and explained what it was before rubbing it over his hair, causing little crackles and pops. "This is fur, when you rub fur it makes static electricity," he explained. "Static electricity make spark."
"...strange, but I see this before."
"Where?" Pryce asked, confused. Dragons didn''t have fur, so where would they see static electricity?
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"Rub quartz together, quartz make sparks."
"No, that''s different, that is piezoelectricity, is complicated."
Fathom grumbled something made unintelligible by the language barrier rather than by volume, then said clearly, "Dragon have furs like this, furs rub against other furs, makes spark."
"Yes, that is static electricity,¡± Pryce confirmed, ¡°Wait, dragons have animal furs? Why?¡±
"Soft."
"Right, stupid question."
"Yes,¡± Fathom said blithely. ¡°Human rub fur, make Zeppelin explode?" Fathom asked, returning to the main topic.
"No, at least we don''t think so. Static electricity not just made from rubbing, probably made by something else we don¡¯t know of."
¡°Humans still make Zeppelins now?¡± Fathom rumbled.
¡°No, they¡¯re too dangerous,¡± Pryce said dismissively.
¡°Zeppelins too dangerous, but rockets not dangerous?¡±
¡°No one is inside rockets,¡± Pryce explained.
¡°No one inside rockets? How you make photo?¡± Fathom asked, surprised.
¡°Machine make photo every thirty seconds, no need human on rocket.¡±
¡°Why human not on rocket?¡±
¡°Rocket too fast, would kill human inside.¡±
Fathom snorted, ¡°Humans soft.¡±
Pryce narrowed his eyes. ¡°Remember we talk about speed? Humans measure speed in meters per second.¡±
¡°Yes, why?¡±
¡°Well, change in speed is called acceleration,¡± Pryce explained. He should be using ¡®velocity¡¯, but that would just be confusing right now. ¡°Like I said earlier, we are going very fast because we are close to equator, but we don¡¯t feel it because we are not accelerating. Our speed does not change, understand? Good. Because speed is meters per second, we want acceleration which is change in speed, so units of acceleration are meters per second per second. This is confusing, and it is ok if you don¡¯t understand, but the important thing is that everything falls at 7.85 meters per second per second, we call this one ¡®g¡¯.¡±
¡°Everything?¡± Fathom asked in disbelief. ¡°Not everything, some things fall faster than others. Dragons fall faster when wings closed.¡±
¡°Sorry, I mean the biggest acceleration is 7.85 meters per second. Common mistake humans make is that heavy things fall faster than light things, but all things fall at same speed if there is no air.¡±
¡°Strange mistake, falling is easy to understand,¡± Fathom said.
¡°You are a dragon, you can fly, that makes falling easier to understand for you.¡±
¡°Makes sense,¡± Fathom rumbled. ¡°Humans can not fly. Sad.¡±
Pryce shrugged. ¡°We do what we can. Also, we call thing that makes things fall ¡®gravity¡¯.¡±
¡°Understand.¡±
¡°So, Rockets accelerate at 30-50 g¡¯s. This means they accelerate 30-50 times faster than gravity.¡±
Fathom stared. Then blinked.
Pryce took this as an invitation to continue. ¡°For a rocket accelerating at 50 g¡¯s, a rocket accelerates at 392.5 meters per second per second, which means after one second it goes from 0 meters per second to 392.5 meters per second, and then after two seconds it goes to 785 meters per second.¡±
¡°¡what.¡± Fathom asked blankly.
¡°To fly around Earth, you need to be going at 7076 meters per second, so we need to go very fast.¡±
¡°Why you need to go very fast?¡± Fathom hissed, looking at Pryce as if he were insane. ¡°Dragons no fly fast like that!¡±
¡°Correction: Why do you need to go that fast? Answer: Satellites need to go around Earth, go around Earth is ¡®orbit¡¯. Imagine if I throw a rock, it land like this,¡± Pryce said, sketching a rock arching up and down on a flat surface. ¡°But if I throw very very hard, it go like this,¡± he sketched a rock going further, landing onto a slightly curved surface. ¡°If I throw rock very very very hard, it go like this,¡± he sketched a rock going around the world.
¡°You¡can not throw rock that fast, yes?¡± Fathom looked at Pryce warily.
Pryce chuckled, ¡°No, I can¡¯t, that was just an example. Rock is like rocket. Rocket go very fast sideways, so it no hit ground.¡±
¡°Wait, yesterday you say Earth is circumference of 40,080 km, you did not explain this?¡± Fathom asked, in delayed indignation.
¡°I forgot, there were lots of things to talk about,¡± Pryce shrugged. ¡°And you didn¡¯t remind me!¡± He added defensively.
¡°Not my mistake human memory is bad,¡± the dragon snorted austerely.
¡°Correction: Not my fault human memory is bad. And it¡¯s also not my fault if dragons do not know the circumference of the world, humans learned that over two thousand years ago,¡± Pryce said, unable to refrain from being a little smug.
¡°Two¡thousand?¡± Fathom said, irritation forgotten and curiosity taking it¡¯s place. ¡°How did humans learn that? Humans use ship to measure? Dragons do not have ship, can not measure Earth like humans.¡±
¡°Oh, I don¡¯t know, I¡¯m just a human who doesn¡¯t have good memory,¡± Pryce drawled, grinning.
Fathom may not have had the words, but his deadpan expression needed no verbal explanation.
Pryce huffed. ¡°You¡¯re no fun. Humans didn¡¯t have ships like two-thousand years ago, and we did not even leave the island to measure Earth, we used geometry,¡± Pryce said, a smile spreading across his face.
¡°What is that?¡±
Pryce took some time to name the basic operations of math, which Fathom was fortunately already familiar with. Then he explained how humans measured the angles of shadows cast by pillars at two different latitudes at the same time, and how the difference in the angles would be the angle of a triangle drawn from the center of the Earth to each pillar
[1]. The distance between the pillars and the difference between angles resulted in a circumference of 40,000 kilometers ¨C which was quite close to the currently accepted value of 40,080 kilometers, at least when measured from the poles. The Earth almost certainly bulged at the equator, though they only had uncertain estimates as to how much it bulged.
Pryce drew the problem out on a piece of graph paper and showed Fathom how he could calculate the circumference of a circle without measuring it with this method. First. he drew a small circle and only measured the angle and the distance between two points to get the circumference, proving this method worked. Then he drew one using the values that had been obtained for the modern-day value and showed Fathom how 40,080 km was obtained.
Once he was done showing his proof, Fathom sat back down onto his haunches with a flabbergasted air.
¡°How humans¡make this?¡±
¡°Words for making ideas is ¡®think of¡¯, the answer to ¡®how do humans think of this¡¯ is that a few smart people did some smart math,¡± Pryce explained simply. ¡°Rockets are much, much, much more complicated than this,¡± he added.
Fathom only tossed his head ¨C the draconic equivalent of shaking his head, Pryce thought ¨C and he did not immediately reply.
¡°How long it take for rocket to go around Earth?¡± He abruptly asked, looking almost resigned to the insanity of the situation.
¡°Around one hundred minutes.¡±
Fathom rumbled absently in response, staring blankly and causing Pryce to wonder if he was shattering the poor dragon¡¯s worldview too many times per day.
¡°Do¡you want to see photo of Jupiter?¡± Pryce asked hesitantly.
¡°¡Yes,¡± Fathom said, somewhat subdued compared to his usual curious self.
Pryce had brought the book out this morning because he knew Fathom would be interested in it, so he was able to flip to the bookmarked page quickly. ¡°Here¡¯s a better picture of Jupiter,¡± Pryce said as he turned the book so the dragon could see it.
[2]
¡°See that spot here?¡± Pryce asked, trembling a little in excitement.
¡°Yes?¡± Fathom answered, a little warily.
¡°That spot is a hurricane so big that all of Earth can fit inside of it, isn¡¯t that amazing?¡±
Fathom stared at the spot, then glanced back up at Pryce in a sort of dazed manner, as if he were torn between disbelief and awe, and had instead settled on confusion.
¡°I wanted to show you this yesterday,¡± he said, flipping through to another bookmark, ¡°but the telescope isn¡¯t powerful enough to show galaxies very well.¡±
[3]
¡°Galaxies are groups of stars close together, we are inside of one. The Milky Way you see at night is a band like this, but we are seeing it from the inside.¡±
¡°Wait, do you know what stars are?¡± Fathom asked with sudden urgency.
¡°Yes, stars are like our sun, but very far away. They probably have planets, but we can¡¯t see them with our telescopes yet. Some stars you see in the sky are actually galaxies like this, but they are very very far away, so they look like a star.¡±
Fathom sat completely still for a few moments, staring blankly at the photo of the galaxy.
¡°Dragons¡have many things we do not know,¡± he said, slowly and carefully. ¡°Many thousands of years, and no dragon know how big Earth is, no one know what planets are, no one know what stars are¡and then you tell me in some days. Is very strange, like¡¡± he paused, trying to find the right words. ¡°Do humans see things when they sleep?¡±
¡°Yes, this is called dream. Bad dreams are called nightmares.¡±
¡°You tell me these things, is like¡strange dream, but good.¡±
¡°That is¡good,¡± Pryce said. ¡°I like teaching you, you teach me too.¡±
¡°What do I teach you?¡± Fathom asked, surprised.
¡°You teach me things about dragons.¡±
¡°Dragons not interesting like stars, or planets.¡±
¡°Of course dragons are not interesting to you, you already know about dragons. I don¡¯t know much about dragons, so I think dragons are very interesting and amazing. Also, I would probably be dead without you.¡± Pryce added, causing Fathom to preen a little despite his melancholy mood. ¡°I think I teach you enough big things today, I want to learn more about animals on this island,¡± Pryce said. ¡°You remember animals in textbook, can you describe animals on island using animals from textbook?¡±
Fathom tilted his head from side to side as he considered this plan. ¡°Maybe?¡± He said uncertainly.
¡°Let¡¯s do that tomorrow, it¡¯s getting late. Do you want to look at more stars?¡±
[JOURNAL ENTRY]
Day 36,
Fathom has responded with surprise and very evident shock upon learning more about planets, stars, and how humans calculated the circumference of the Earth, which isn¡¯t unexpected at all.
He speaks English well enough now that I can almost always understand his meaning, I can''t believe it''s only been 8 days since I''ve started teaching him English.
Tomorrow I will definitely focus on learning about the species that live on this island. After that¡I¡¯m not sure what I will do. I still have to visit Fathom¡¯s home, which I am looking forward to. I suppose I will simply continue to research whatever I find interesting.
I plug in the radio everyday just in case someone decides to send a message. It''s still too early for them to worry, but it''s part of my daily ritual to leave the radio on while I write my journal entries. It''s a pity the daily signal is received at 5:31 AM, I would have liked to be able to hear the signal and know that a human sent that message, even if it contains virtually no information.
At least I am far from lonely; Fathom makes for excellent company. He is always curious and ready to learn. Even his temper is quite good, though he does sass me a bit too much.
Wound progress update: The wound has been healing very nicely, I believe it will be completely healed by day 40 at this current rate of ~1 centimeter per day.
Chapter 17, Day 37: Life in Variations
¡°Now, let¡¯s get started,¡± Pryce invited, pen at the ready to record whatever information about the species Fathom was about to tell him about.
¡°You know the raptors, I explain them more first,¡± Fathom started.
¡°Makes sense.¡±
¡°Raptors are¡very bad animals. Dragons all very opposite of like them,¡± he began.
¡°Opposite of like is ¡®hate¡¯,¡± Pryce said, scribbling away.
¡°Dragons all hate raptors, raptors try to take eggs,¡± he spat vehemently, as if the mere thought of the creatures disgusted him.
¡°Dragons¡do not eat other animal eggs?¡± Pryce asked, skeptical.
¡°Yes, but different,¡± Fathom dismissed with a shrug of a wing. ¡°Dragons fight, then eat animals, then eat eggs. Raptors only eat eggs, no fight.¡±
¡°Does the word ¡®raptor¡¯ in dragon language have meaning?¡± Pryce asked, curious.
¡°Means thing that takes things,¡± Fathom said, shifting his wings, ¡°it is also bad thing to say dragon is like raptor.¡±
¡°Bad thing to say is an ¡®insult¡¯, like stupid or crazy,¡± Pryce said. ¡°And person who takes things from other people is a ¡®thief¡¯.¡± He stopped to consider the unlikely coincidence. ¡°It is strange, human word and dragon word for ¡®raptor¡¯ have same meaning.¡±
¡°Very strange,¡± Fathom agreed, then seemed to realize something before asking, ¡°Human Mainland have raptors?¡±
¡°No, I gave them that name,¡± Pryce said.
¡°Why you name them thief? You did not see them take things.¡±
¡°Humans find old bones of animals that lived millions of years ago. Bones that are very old sometimes become rock; these bones are called ¡®fossils¡¯. One creature looks like raptor but only has two legs and two arms, so I named them that.¡±
¡°Bones¡become rock¡¡± Fathom said slowly, sounding like he recognized the description. ¡°Dragons know rocks that look like bones, but do not know where they come from.¡±
¡°Very rare, only happen when animal dies in the right place, and bones take around ten thousand years to become fossils,¡± Pryce said, noticing Fathom seemed particularly interested in this.
¡°Ten thousand years,¡± Fathom breathed in awe. ¡°How do you know this?¡±
¡°That is¡very complicated,¡± Pryce said, quite tired of having to say that.
¡°More complicated than rockets?¡± The dragon asked, equal parts wary and doubtful.
¡°Different,¡± Pryce said, rolling his hand in an uncertain gesture. ¡°I can show you photos of fossils if you want.¡±
¡°Yes, I want,¡± Fathom said, bobbing his head eagerly.
Pryce found a book on paleontology; he recalled one of the geologists had some experience in that field. Paleontology wasn¡¯t a priority, but it didn¡¯t cost much to bring a book in the event that some interesting fossils were found.
Pryce decided to show Fathom some ammonites since they were among the most common fossils, and as such were most likely to be familiar to the dragon.
¡°¡I know this,¡± he said quietly, gratifying but also confusing Pryce with his low tone.
¡°This fossil is from an animal called an ¡®ammonite¡¯, do you have any ammonite fossils?¡± Pryce asked, curious if the dragon had any personal connection to these.
¡°Yes, I have one that is have many colors, is very beautiful¡ammonite fossil was gift,¡± he explained somberly.
¡°An opalescent ammonite? Those are very rare, very beautiful,¡± Pryce said, then realized what word Fathom had used. ¡°You said it was a gift? You said dragons only give two things, one to their mate and one to hatchling, right?¡±
¡°Yes, my¡mate give me ammonite,¡± Fathom said, his voice and spines both lower than Pryce had ever seen before.
¡°Do¡you want to talk about it?¡± Pryce asked, wincing a little from his stilted reassurance. At least it wouldn¡¯t be a generic response from Fathom¡¯s perspective.
¡°I talk about this later, at my home. Things more make sense there,¡± the dragon said.
¡°I understand, things make more sense there,¡± Pryce nodded, though he felt Fathom might be using a delaying tactic. ¡°Your wing is almost healed, when can I go to your home?¡±
Fathom flexed his wing, looking at the scab that was only about two centimeters long now. ¡°We go three days from now, this is good?¡±
¡°Yes, that is good,¡± Pryce said, excited to see the dragon¡¯s home. He would have to do some preparations himself. He ¨C or rather Fathom could only bring so much, so he¡¯d have to pack light.
¡°Normal, not iridescent ammonite is rare, but not many dragons want,¡± Fathom continued, as if he had not mentioned anything personal. ¡°Ammonite has pretty lines, but it is still rock.¡±
¡°Makes sense,¡± Pryce said. ¡°Things many humans want is ¡®valuable¡¯, most fossils are very rare and very valuable, but ammonites are not very valuable. Do you have any other fossils?¡± Pryce asked, a covetous gleam in his eyes.
¡°I have some, but my fossils are not big,¡± the dragon said, shrugging a wing. Evidently, they were not a particularly prized part of his collection.
He was tempted to show Fathom photos of other fossils, but reminded himself to return to the task of learning about the wildlife currently on this island. He set the book down onto a crate, intending to ask Fathom about other animals on the island when the dragon flipped it back open with a talon.
¡°What is this? It look big,¡±
Pryce looked to see the book had opened to the page featuring a photograph of the fossil of a Brachiosaur ¨C the only known complete specimen in existence. ¡°That is a brachiosaurus, 25 meters in length and 14 meters in height.¡±
¡°Brachiosaurus is very big!¡± Fathom rumbled in surprise, eyes widening a little as his spines flared. ¡°Bigger than all animals here,¡± he said, adding, ¡°How do humans fight brachiosaurus?¡±
Pryce snorted in amusement, ¡°We do not fight brachiosaurus, brachiosaurus lived over 100 million years ago, all dead now.¡± He paused. ¡°All dead on mainland,¡± he added, thinking that perhaps it was not out of the question for the southern island to have their descendants ¨C assuming they did not evolve a significant amount in the last 100 million years.
¡°All dead?¡± Fathom asked, a strange severity in his tone.
¡°Yes, they live more than 100 million years ago, dead for very long time,¡± Pryce said. ¡°Type of animal is called ¡®species¡¯, humans are a species, and dragons are a species. When every one of species dies, species is extinct.¡±
Fathom slowly lowered his head, and looked at Pryce from the corner of his eye as he asked, ¡°¡Humans make species extinct in past?¡±
Pryce closed the book. ¡°Yes. Many species, very bad.¡±
¡°Dragons make other species extinct too,¡± Fathom said quietly. ¡°Other species is like dragon, but only two legs, two wings, and strange scales like feathers.¡±
¡°¡Wyvern,¡± Pryce said. ¡°Name of extinct species is wyvern.¡±
¡°I not see wyverns alive, they die thousands of years ago. Old dragons tell young dragons about Wyverns,¡± Fathom paused to sit down, and Pryce had the impression this was going to be a lengthy story. ¡°Long time ago, wyverns have south half of island, and dragons have north half. For many years, dragons fight wyverns, but sometimes dragons win, sometimes wyverns win, sometimes dragons die, sometimes wyverns die. Then, one dragon fight other dragons, make one big clan. Big clan go fight wyverns, then all wyverns dead.¡± Fathom shifted uncomfortably. ¡°Dragons very happy, win much land, much territory. But dragons did not know Wyverns¡hunt predators. When wyverns die, predators have no predators. Many prey hunted by dragons and other predators, and when all prey gone, many predators die too.¡±
Pryce nodded grimly. It was a textbook example of the disruption of an ecosystem resulting in population crashes ¨C and in some cases, extinctions.
¡°This is why island only have one thousand dragons,¡± Fathom concluded. ¡°After dragons kill all wyverns, dragons have many eggs, eggs hatch, and many dragons eat many prey. Less dragons eat less prey, island does not die.¡±
¡°Understand, humans change things around us, animals no survive,¡± Pryce said.
¡°Change things around you?¡± Fathom asked, uncertain as to what Pryce meant.
¡°We make things using things around us, we get wood from trees, we use wood to make ships, make tools, make homes,¡± Pryce explained. ¡°Humans¡cut down all of forest sometimes,¡± he confessed.
¡°Humans kill all of forest? Kill healthy trees?¡± Fathom hissed in disgust.
¡°¡Yes, healthy trees strong,¡± Pryce admitted.
¡°Dragons no kill forest, use dead or old trees to carve wood!¡± He spat, raising his head to glare down at Pryce balefully.
Pryce took an involuntary step back, but ultimately held his ground. ¡°If dragons could make shiny things from trees, would they kill healthy trees?¡± Pryce was able to keep his voice steady with a great effort, though he would be lying to say that he wasn¡¯t a little terrified. He was quite certain that Fathom wouldn¡¯t hurt him, but if the human way of life was a cultural taboo...
The dragon opened his mouth to object, but fell silent as he contemplated the question, and slowly rumbled a reluctant affirmative.
¡°Tell me about other species on this island,¡± Pryce said in a reconciliatory tone, hoping to move onto other topics.
¡°¡okay, I will tell you about lizards.¡± Fathom said, wings and spines settling down to their original positions...they seemed a bit lower, actually and Pryce then noticed that the dragon seemed almost ashamed, though he didn¡¯t think now was a good time to ask why.
¡°This island have lizards too?¡± Pryce asked. He wasn¡¯t sure if that was surprising or not, it seemed like a fairly simple shape, just a length of body with limbs on the side.
¡°Yes, but this lizards are big lizards, two or three meters long, and have six legs. Blue lizards live on mountains, red lizards live in places with much sand.¡±
¡°Places with much sand? Like beach?¡± Pryce said, darting an anxious glance beneath him.
¡°Places with much sand not near ocean,¡± Fathom amended, sounding a little amused by Pryce¡¯s reaction.
¡°Oh, that is called a ¡®desert¡¯,¡± Pryce said, breathing a sigh of relief.
¡°Red lizards live on deserts.¡±
¡°Ok, what is important about red and blue lizards?¡± Pryce asked, guessing that they would have to be significant if they were the second creature to mention.
¡°Important?¡±
¡°Oh, Important is like¡valuable thing, or thing you like very much, or thing that changes many things,¡± Pryce said, hoping that wasn¡¯t a bad explanation.
¡°I think I understand,¡± Fathom said, bobbing his head.
¡°Good, now what is important about lizards?¡±
¡°Some things that dragons eat make dragons become different color,¡± Fathom said. ¡°Red and blue lizards are hard to find, it is good for a dragon to be very red or very blue,¡± Fathom said, posturing a little with his deep blue scales.
¡°Is dark blue or light blue better? What color is dragon who doesn¡¯t eat red or blue lizards?¡± Pryce asked, fascinated by this strange effect.
¡°I more blue than most dragons,¡± Fathom said, puffing himself up a little as he said so. ¡°Dragon hatchling is dark white. If a hatchling eat more blue lizard, hatchling become more blue. Adult change color too, but slower.¡±
¡°Your colors look very good,¡± Pryce complimented, causing the dragon to preen. He did not have to force the sentiment at all, though he¡¯d imagine a grey dragon would be nearly as impressive. ¡°And dark white is grey, like my shirt.¡± The shirt in question was originally white, but he¡¯d worn it so often that the sand, dust, and grime had turned it grey. ¡°So, dragons can be grey, blue, or red? Can they be purple?¡±
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¡°Very small number of dragons is purple, less than ten,¡± Fathom said.
¡°To be purple you need to eat red and blue lizards, right?¡±
¡°Yes,¡± Fathom rumbled in confirmation.
¡°What other colors can dragons be?¡± Pryce asked, scribbling this fascinating information down.
¡°Dragon can be orange if they eat much some types of fishes, and some can be green if they eat much some types of plants, but not many dragons like orange, and no dragon like green; it is easy to catch fish or eat plants. Some prey make dragon yellow, but they are small and hard to hunt.¡±
Pryce scribbled down these interesting bits of information into his notes. In short, a dragon¡¯s colors were dependent on their hunting skills, or at least were dependent on what kind of prey their territory had. ¡°Is it hard to hunt red or blue lizards?¡±
¡°Yes, blue lizards live in mountains, use six legs to run fast into holes. Red lizards have four arms near head, can move under sand very fast.¡±
¡°Move under sand is ¡®dig¡¯,¡± Pryce said, wondering just what these bizarre lizards looked like, then asked, ¡°How did you catch so many blue lizards?¡±
¡°I am good hunter,¡± Fathom said, preening again; though Pryce noticed he did not quite meet his eyes as he made that boast. If he had to guess, the dragon probably had some trick to getting lizards and had a habit of keeping that fact from other dragons.
¡°What if dragon eat many red lizards, blue lizards, orange fish, yellow things, and plants? Would dragon be black?¡±
¡°I do not know, no dragon do that before,¡± Fathom said, rumbling with amusement. ¡°You ask questions like a hatchling.¡±
¡°You ask questions like a child too,¡± Pryce shot back.
¡°You are small like hatchling, and you have strange color,¡± Fathom returned, causing Pryce to laugh at the ridiculousness of these half-insults. He supposed the olive skin that all humans had would be a strange one, and not particularly appealing by draconic standards either.
¡°Is my skin a good color?¡± Pryce asked, curious to see what the dragon would think.
¡°No, you look like sand,¡± Fathom said blithely, looking confused when Pryce stifled a laugh at his blunt honesty.
¡°But your hair is not bad,¡± the dragon added, perhaps thinking he had insulted Pryce. ¡°Black and white is interesting colors.¡±
Pryce chuckled, saying, ¡°Human hair mostly black or brown, very few humans have gold or red colored hair. All human hairs turn white when they become old, and my hair was all black ten years ago. Some people think it is an insult to say someone¡¯s hair is white.¡±
¡°Why is this insult? White hair is white hair, this is true,¡± Fathom said, flicking his spines in confusion.
¡°That is true, yes,¡± Pryce admitted. ¡°Most people respect old people, but it is bad to remind them they are old. Old people do not live long,¡± he explained.
¡°Do old people forget they are old?¡± Fathom asked dubiously.
¡°No, but it¡¯s still rude to remind them.¡±
¡°Humans strange,¡± Fathom rumbled, ¡°For dragons, it is opposite of insult to say they are old, old dragons see much, do much, and usually have much,¡± he finished with an envious note.
¡°Opposite of insult is compliment, and that makes sense, but humans do not live long, remember?¡±
¡°I do not remember. You did not tell me.¡±
Pryce blinked, realizing it was true. ¡°Sorry, I thought I told you. Humans live on average close to 80 years, oldest human around 110 or 120 years old.¡±
Fathom jerked his head back in surprise and stared at Pryce. ¡°But you are fifty, you only live 30 years from now?¡±
¡°Around there,¡± Pryce shrugged, a little touched by the concern in the dragon¡¯s voice.
The dragon seemed quite shocked by this news, and looked at Pryce with what he could only describe as pity. ¡°Tell me more about other animals,¡± Pryce said, feeling uncomfortable, ¡°you mention something about a land-octopus before, yes?¡±
¡°Yes, I tell you because land-octopus eat small animals like you,¡± Fathom said with something approaching his normal tone.
¡°Thanks, what else do you know about them?¡±
¡°Hmm¡¡± Fathom hummed in thought as he thought of what to say. Pryce noted the sound was a bit more similar to his own thoughtful humming; perhaps the dragon was picking up on his mannerisms? ¡°I do not know much about land-octopus. They live in trees, move from tree to tree, and eat small things.¡±
¡°Are they smart?¡± Pryce asked, then realized how stupid he was for not asking if there existed any other sapient species on this island.
¡°They no attack dragon, so not very stupid,¡± Fathom said thoughtfully.
¡°Do they have language? Do any species other than dragons have language?¡± Pryce asked urgently.
¡°Land-octopus do not have language, they do not make sound,¡± Fathom said, a little taken aback by Pryce¡¯s sudden urgency. ¡°Dragons do not know any species other than dragons that have language.¡±
¡°Did¡wyverns have language?¡± Pryce asked, wondering if that was too sensitive a topic.
¡°Do not know,¡± Fathom said with a draconic shrug. ¡°No dragon talk to wyvern like I talk to you, if they have language, no dragon learn language.¡± He tilted his head in thought, then added, ¡°some dragons say wyverns smart, but do not know how smart.¡±
¡°Alright, tell me about some smart animals.¡± Pryce said.
¡°Hmm¡some animals hunt together, probably more smart than animals that hunt alone.¡±
¡°Don¡¯t dragons hunt alone?¡± Pryce asked, unable to resist.
Fathom snorted, brought his jaws close to Pryce and said, ¡°Dragons can hunt together if we want, dragons do not need to hunt together,¡± in what Pryce judged to be austere tones.
¡°Okay, okay,¡± Pryce said placatingly. ¡°Tell me about animals that hunt together.¡±
¡°One animal is fastest on the ground, they have four legs, and two wings. They can not fly with wings, but use wings to help run.¡±
Using wings to propel themselves along the ground? Interesting. ¡°What animals does this animal look like?¡±
¡°Animal look like your animals with four legs, but has bird wings, like where dragon has wings,¡± Fathom said, stirring his wings a little. ¡°Also has beak, like a bird,¡± he added.
Sounds like a Gryphon? Or at least something resembling one. Pryce doubted the forelegs would have a bird¡¯s talons while the hindlegs had paws, that sort of thing just didn¡¯t happen in nature. It probably had paws, or at least something similar in structure.
¡°Name for this animal is ¡®Gryphon¡¯. What do their feet look like?¡± Pryce asked, curious to know how the fastest thing on land ran.
¡°What is meaning of ¡®Gryphon¡¯?¡± Fathom asked, tilting his head.
¡°Gryphon is creature that don¡¯t exist, like mermaid, but it sounds like what you are saying,¡± Pryce explained.
¡°How many creatures that don¡¯t exist do humans have?¡± Fathom questioned, sounding somewhere between exasperated and confused.
¡°Many,¡± Pryce said. ¡°Dragons were one of them.¡±
Fathom widened his eyes a little at this. ¡°Humans think dragons are creatures that don¡¯t exist, but know what dragons look like¡?¡± Fathom asked, very confused.
¡°Yes, very strange, but word for creatures that don¡¯t exist is ¡®mythical creatures¡¯. Good question is why do humans have mythical creatures that look like creatures here?¡± Pryce asked, half-thinking aloud.
¡°Humans no see dragons and gryphons with camera-satellite?¡±
¡°No, satellites are very far away, they can¡¯t see any animals, and mythical creatures are very old, hundreds or thousands of years old.¡± He shook his head. ¡°I will need to see Gryphon to know, maybe Gryphon is different than how I think. Right now dragon is the only mythical creature that I know exists. Even if gryphons look like ¡®gryphons¡¯, it is probably coincidence.¡±
¡°Coincidence?¡± Fathom echoed the new word.
¡°Pattern is thing that happens again and again, like sunrise and sunset. Coincidence is thing that looks like pattern but isn¡¯t,¡± Pryce explained, then asked. ¡°What do gryphon feet look like?¡±
Fathom rumbled uncertainly before answering, ¡°Gryphon feet not like any animal feet you show me. Looks like bird talons, but shape is different.¡±
¡°Different how?¡± Pryce pressed. Fathom wasn¡¯t able to provide a better explanation and was only able to shrug helplessly. He felt a little disappointed; he was curious to see how the fastest land-based creature ran, and resolved to see a gryphon one day. The ¡®how¡¯ would be difficult, given how dangerous everything seemed to be, but maybe they could work something out in the future. ¡°Thank you for telling me about Gryphons. It is not your fault; we do not have the right words. Tell me about other animals."
Fathom bobbed his head and answered, ¡°Other animal that hunts together is animal that looks like tiger, but is white with black stripes. They have six legs, run strange, but run fast.¡±
¡°This animal is ¡®White Tiger¡¯.¡±
¡°¡this name is bad.¡±
¡°What? You said they look like tigers!¡± Pryce protested defensively.
¡°This name is color and animal that exists!¡±
¡°Lots of animals are named like that!¡±
¡°¡humans are bad at naming,¡± Fathom said, then his eyes widened in dawning apprehension before asking, ¡°What is my name meaning?¡±
¡°Um, your name has a few meanings. Fathom means to measure ocean depth, so fathom can mean ¡®understand¡¯ ocean depths, or just mean ¡®understand¡¯, and you look like ocean sometimes.¡±
Fathom lulled this over for a few moments until he bobbed his head, evidently having found this acceptable. Then he froze, turned to Pryce and asked, ¡°What does dragon mean?¡±
¡°Uh¡¡¯dragon¡¯ is an old word. I¡¯m not sure what it means,¡± Pryce said; not entirely a lie. He was fairly certain it meant ¡®serpent¡¯, but he didn¡¯t want to tell Fathom that either.
Fathom grumbled suspiciously at Pryce, who turned to glance at a bird who had just conveniently let out a warbling cry. A second later, the bird flapped off in a flurry ¨C though Pryce saw two distinct pairs of wings.
¡°What is the biggest bird you know of?¡± Pryce asked.
¡°Biggest bird looks like that, but much bigger,¡± Fathom said, still eyeing him with a suspicious gaze. ¡°Biggest bird is maybe 5 meters long, maybe 8 meters wide.¡±
¡°This¡bird is called ¡®Roc¡¯,¡± Pryce said, amazed by the sheer size of the creature. Of course, dragons were bigger, but this bird still dwarfed any humans.
¡°¡why do you name flying bird rock?¡± Fathom asked, flattening his spines in distaste.
¡°It¡¯s written differently than this rock,¡± Pryce weakly justified, holding up an unremarkable grey rock as he said so.
¡°Use different name,¡± Fathom said.
¡°What? Why?¡±
¡°I am not using same word for bird and rock,¡± the dragon said stubbornly.
Pryce threw up his hands in surrender. ¡°Fine, what color is this bird?¡±
¡°Bird is red.¡± Fathom narrowed his eyes in suspicion, ¡°You are not naming this red bird, yes?¡±
¡°No, of course not. I¡¯ll name this bird Vermillion bird.¡±
¡°Does Vermillion mean red?¡±
¡°...Yes.¡±
¡°Use different name.¡±
Pryce threw up his hands, ¡°What¡¯s the meaning of the dragon name for this bird?¡±
Fathom paused, then scratched a spot on his neck with a wing-thumb, ¡°¡very big red bird.¡±
¡°I¡¯m calling it vermillion bird,¡± Pryce said with an air of finality.
¡°This name sound better in dragon language,¡± Fathom grumbled. ¡°You probably not need this name, vermillion bird fly very high up.¡±
¡°How high?¡± Pryce asked.
¡°I do not know, vermillion birds fly higher than dragon,¡± Fathom rumbled, sounding just a touch envious.
¡°Why do vermillion birds fly so high?¡± Pryce asked, ¡°No food very high up, what does this bird want?¡±
¡°I do not know, but some dragons see them eat¡other animal that is high up,¡± Fathom said, pausing as if unsure how to describe this creature. ¡°This other animal look like whale, but different.¡±
Pryce stopped scribbling to look up. ¡°A whale-like animal. In the sky.¡±
¡°Yes.¡±
¡°How have I not seen one?¡± Pryce wanted to demand, though it came out more as a sigh. By this point he had learned to simply accept whatever strange creatures the dragon described.
¡°They very high up, like vermillion bird,¡± the dragon said, as if this were obvious.
¡°Right, so vermillion birds hunt these¡sky-whales,¡± Pryce said, thinking out-loud. ¡°How do sky whales float? And how do you know they exist if they so high up?¡±
¡°Sometimes sky whale die, float down,¡± Fathom said simply. ¡°Sky whales have same air inside like dragon, can explode if dragon try to burn it.¡±
¡°Oh right, I forgot to tell you, the gas you burn for your fire is probably hydrogen,¡± Pryce said. ¡°Hydrogen is very light, floats on air. Sky whale probably have very much hydrogen, help float,¡± he concluded, pacing in excitement as all the pieces fit together nicely.
¡°Dragon fire gas is hydrogen?¡± Fathom asked bemusedly, then asked in a strange tone, ¡°You said humans can not make dragon fire, but you said humans use hydrogen for zeppelin?¡±
¡°Not with our bodies, we make hydrogen with machines,¡± Pryce said distractedly; his mind was focused on wondering what these sky whales looked like. ¡°How long and wide are sky whales?¡±
¡°Hmm¡¡± Fathom hummed; the dragon seemed to still be caught up on humans being able to make the gas they used to breathe fire.
Pryce repeated his question, and Fathom seemed to snap out of whatever he was contemplating. ¡°Sky whale maybe 10 or 12 meters long, but maybe 14-16 meters wide, I only see two before,¡± The dragon recounted.
¡°Right, because you only see them when they die and fall down,¡± Pryce said, and Fathom nodded in response.
¡°Yes,¡± Fathom said, nodding his head.
¡°What do sky whales eat?¡± Pryce was at a loss at how such a massive creature could sustain itself high up in the sky.
¡°Sky whales maybe eat those things,¡± Fathom said, pointing at the first of the spore-pods that were floating off into the sky.
¡°Sky whales eat spore pods!¡± Pryce said in realization, they had to be eating spore pods, or at least something similar. He wondered if they were almost like filter feeders that almost passively caught the pods.
¡°Yes, maybe, but I do not see any,¡± Fathom said, sounding almost embarrassed that spore pods floated higher than he could fly.
¡°How high can dragons fly?¡± Pryce asked.
¡°More than one kilometers, maybe two or three kilometers up?¡± The dragon guessed, yawning as he looked up at the spore pods ascending into the sky.
¡°It¡¯s getting late,¡± Pryce said, yawning in response while he finished jotting down his notes. ¡°We will talk about more animals tomorrow.¡±
¡°Yes, goodnight,¡± Fathom said, rustling his wings and looking unusually eager to leave. Pryce wondered if he should ask what he was leaving to do, but the dragon leapt off into the skies before he could voice his question.
Pryce scratched his head as he watched the dragon wing off into the distance.
[JOURNAL ENTRY]
Day 37,
This island¡¯s biosphere is truly more fascinating than I could have ever imagined, to think there exists an ecosystem in the sky!
And dragons being conscious of their impact on the environment was quite unexpected, I¡¯d imagine this island is capable of supporting far more than a thousand dragons, but maybe they don¡¯t want to risk it, or it¡¯s just a part of their tradition at this point.
Another curious thing is that Fathom described Gryphons to sound rather similar to the mythological creatures, though I am personally of the opinion that they only share a passing resemblance. I¡¯m not sure what to think if animals on this island resemble creatures from human mythology, the simplest conclusion is that our ancestors encountered these creatures before, but that doesn¡¯t make any sense. The distance is far too vast, and there¡¯s no reason for creatures to evolve the ability to migrate over such great spans of empty ocean. The theory of continental drift is not without controversy[1], but even if it is true, we do not know how quickly continents drift. Current estimates vary too widely to be of use and are based only on any movement between the mainland and it¡¯s nearby islands.
Humans as a species have existed for approximately two hundred thousand years, or a million at most. That doesn¡¯t seem like enough time for our islands to have separated so far, and if it was recent then we should still have some of the same species on our islands, or at least recent fossils of said species.
None of this makes sense, so until I see a Gryphon, I will chalk up the existence of dragons as mere coincidence.
On another note, it is a shame sky whales and vermillion birds live high up in the sky, it sounds like it would be difficult for me to see any individuals. For the record, I still prefer the name ¡®Roc¡¯. Maybe I¡¯ll get to give that name to another avian species.
I learned much today, but something that bothers me is that I still have no idea how I can weigh Fathom.
Though the ship has plenty of exceptionally strong rope/cable/chains, the hanging scale only goes up to 500 kg, while the ship¡¯s heavy scale only goes up to 1000 kg ¨C it was simply assumed we could weigh heavier things in increments. Even if the hanging scale could weigh something in the thousands of kilograms, I don¡¯t think Fathom would agree to being tied up and dangled like a pinata.
I wouldn¡¯t be able to make a scale large enough to fit Fathom either, yet alone an accurate one.
If only this ship had a sizable lifeboat, then I could ask Fathom to step onto it. By measuring how much the waterline moves up I could measure his weight, as a floating vessel experiences an upwards thrust equal to the weight of the water displaced. In other words, if I make a ship sink by 1 cubic meter, the thing I added onto the boat weighed 1000 kg.
He would take up much less area if he curled upon himself, but I don¡¯t have any kind of boat except the ship, and even if we launched The Horizon, I don¡¯t think Fathom¡¯s weight would cause a noticeable difference in the waterline.
The crates I have are all too small, the largest ones are 1-meter cubes used for storage of various things.
Maybe I can work with that¡
Wound progress update: The scab is now only 1.5 centimeters long.
Chapter 18, Day 38: Endless and Beautiful
Pryce squinted at the blurry shape in the distance that was Fathom, who seemed to be flapping more intensely than normal, as if he were carrying something. Pryce thought about getting the binoculars, but decided to just wait and see just what the dragon was bringing in his talons.
As the dragon approached Pryce could see a sandy brown thing in his jaws, it seemed quite large compared to a human, though it seemed a little toylike in the dragon¡¯s maw. The animal was a mess of limbs and what looked like wings, and soon Pryce realized this must be a Gryphon.
He stepped back inside the cargo hold to wait out the sandstorm that was generated each time Fathom landed or took off. He¡¯d learned this lesson after getting sand in his ears, this was a much better idea than standing there covering his face.
¡°Good morning,¡± Pryce said, stepping out of the ship and squinting through the last bits of fine sand in the air.
¡°Good, morning,¡± Fathom said, somehow speaking clearly through the gryphon in his mouth as he spat the stiff carcass onto the beach, exuding such a self-satisfied air that he reminded Pryce of an oversized cat. He noticed that the dragon seemed quite winded from carrying this large creature, though Pryce quickly diverted his attention to inspect the gryphon.
¡°This is Gryphon, yes?¡± Pryce asked, inspecting the animal. It was roughly four-and-a-half meters long, and on all fours it likely would have stood at or above his own height. Its tail was not catlike or doglike at all, but seemed like a long, stretched out avian tail. The tail was quite stiff like the rest of the body, but Pryce assumed it normally functioned much like a rudder or a third wing.
¡°Yes,¡± Fathom confirmed. ¡°I hunt this gryphon yesterday, it is old and has wound,¡± the dragon said, pointing at what looked like a several-day old injury on the gryphon¡¯s left foreleg.
¡°Good, I¡¯m¡glad that you did not kill a young healthy gryphon for me,¡± Pryce said with a little uncertainly. It wasn¡¯t that bad to have killed this animal, ethically speaking, as it was already old and wounded, but it was strange to be given a carcass so casually. ¡°What do you want to trade for the gryphon?¡± Pryce asked, remembering that dragons preferred to trade rather than to give freely.
Fathom stopped his preening and looked a little uncomfortable, he glanced a little off to the side and said, ¡°You give me many things, I give you Gryphon.¡±
¡°I give you many shiny things, and you only give me Gryphon?¡± Pryce teased, unable to resist the opportunity. ¡°I¡¯m joking,¡± he reassured as the dragon stammered a reply. ¡°Thank you, I like gryphon very much, though next time ask me before you get something for me, I maybe not like it.¡±
Fathom seemed to relax when he realized the human wasn¡¯t serious, though he also flicked his nictitating eyelids irritably. ¡°If you not like gryphon, I eat it,¡± he said pragmatically, adding, ¡°And I know you want to see gryphon.¡±
¡°Still, tell me next time you do this,¡± Pryce said offhandedly, already inspecting the feathery carcass again. The strange feathers did not look anything like the ones he knew, they were pliable but stiff, and did not have a rachis ¨C the stiff core of a feather. It almost seemed more similar to a thin, elongated scale than a feather. He also took note of the strange structure of the legs; the upper thigh would not have looked out of place on other four-legged predators, but the ankles and talons were more bird-like. Even the calves of the foreclaws had feathers along the sides like winged¡boots? It was as if a four-winged avian had adapted into the niche of a large land-dwelling carnivore, strange as that was.
¡°How long ago you kill this gryphon?¡± Rigor mortis took a few hours to set in, so the dragon had probably killed it last night.
¡°Last night, after I go away from here,¡± Fathom said, confirming his suspicion.
¡°How did you kill it?¡± Pryce asked as he palpated the neck; it was bent at a fatal angle.
¡°I throw rock at gryphon.¡± The dragon flexed his talons demonstrably.
¡°You¡what?¡± Pryce looked up upon hearing this unexpected answer. ¡°You did not use your talons? Or teeth?¡±
¡°No, gryphon too fast, change direction very fast too. I fly down with rock, throw rocks, some rock hit and kill gryphon,¡± Fathom said simply.
¡°If it works, it works,¡± Pryce shrugged, bemused. He couldn¡¯t tell if it was an elegant way of hunting or a graceless one¡but perhaps the two were not mutually exclusive. Pryce stood, finished with his cursory observations. ¡°I¡¯m going to get my tools to dissect this gryphon, I¡¯ll be back in a minute.¡±
Fathom¡¯s head laid on the floor of the cargo hold as his neck and body sat outside of the ship, watching as Pryce rigged up the gryphon to the hanging scale. The dragon had helped him move the corpse through the hatch and into the cargo hold, and was now peering with interest as Pryce finished setting up the pulley. The dragon watched and seemed mildly surprised when the Gryphon began to lift off the ground.
¡°Why you need help to move gryphon if you can make gryphon go up?¡± Fathom asked, watching the trussed-up gryphon slowly spin back and forth as it was slowly hoisted up.
¡°This is pulley,¡± Pryce said, gesturing to the setup. ¡°It makes it easier to lift things, I can lift things eight times heavier than I can with this.¡±
¡°That makes no sense,¡± Fathom snorted. ¡°Where strength come from?¡±
¡°Good question,¡± Pryce said. ¡°Pulleys don¡¯t add strength, pulleys¡change strength. If I pull up eight meters, this pulley pulls up one meter. This is slower, but easier.¡±
Fathom chuffed a puff of air through his nostrils, mildly vexed but not surprised by the strange things human devices could do.
¡°I can explain more later,¡± Pryce said, checking the scale; 250.7 kg. They were very light compared to the mammals on the mainland, but they were actually a bit heavier for their length when compared to raptors. He knew this was not an ideal substitute for density, as a raptor¡¯s tails made up more than half their body length, while a gryphon¡¯s tails were comparatively stubby at around a tenth of their body length. Perhaps he should measure the volume of the body by seeing how much water it displaced?
Regardless, he scribbled this measurement down with the rest.
Gryphon Specimen #1:
- Standing height: ~1.8 meters.
- Length: ~4.5 meters from nose to tail-tip
- Wingspan: ~3.5 meters
- Mass: 250.7 kg
- ¡
¡°You do this with raptors?¡± Fathom asked, inspecting the shiny surgical tools. He had helped Pryce move the heavy animal back out of the ship, and watched as Pryce set up his workstation.
¡°Yes, don¡¯t touch the tools, they are very sharp and can hurt you,¡± Pryce warned, not looking up from his clipboard as he double checked his list of equipment. He¡¯d worn a full set of protective equipment and had already set up what he could before getting his hands dirty since he was the only one here ¨C well, the only human here. He doubted Fathom could be of much assistance in the dissection.
¡°How far away was this gryphon?¡± Pryce asked as he worked, making an incision down the torso to extract and preserve the organs.
¡°Gryphon was more far from here than my home, but not very far,¡± Fathom said.
¡°So they could attack me?¡±
¡°Maybe, but I do not see gryphons near beaches. Gryphons live in places with tall grass and not many trees,¡± the dragon said, flicking his tongue out as the tantalizing organs were exposed to the air.
¡°Tell me about what animals that might try to kill me.¡±
Pryce heard Fathom hum, and he took a rather concerning amount of time to think about how to best answer this request.
¡°Why are you taking so much time?¡± Pryce asked, placing the liver into a jar as Fathom sat outside of his field of view, gazing longingly at the rich organ.
¡°I am thinking,¡± Fathom said, not lying. ¡°Few things can hurt dragon, hard to think of what can hurt human, many animals will not fight me but can kill you.¡±
¡°Makes sense,¡± Pryce said, removing the lungs. ¡°Take your time, I need to know what to look out for here.¡±
¡°Mmm¡sometimes I see animal that look like gorillas,¡± Fathom said, mentioning the extinct animals that only existed in drawings or low-quality photographs.
¡°Do they have six limbs?¡± Pryce asked.
¡°Yes, they walk on two legs and four arms, they use two arms as legs most times.¡±
¡°Great,¡± Pryce sighed, ¡°How big are they?¡±
¡°Shorter than human, maybe one and a half meters.¡±
¡°Oh, that¡¯s not so bad,¡± Pryce said, breathing a sigh of relief and immediately regretting it as he got a good whiff of the gryphon¡¯s internal organs.
¡°Gorillas have more mass than they look, heavier than this gryphon. Maybe one and a half gryphons of mass.¡±
¡°That¡¯s¡around three hundred kilograms? That is a lot of mass,¡± Pryce said, his head partway inside the chest cavity as he examined something.
¡°Yes, they are also¡hard.¡±
¡°Hard?¡± Pryce asked, depositing the stomach into an empty jar.
¡°Yes, they have¡thing that feel like scales, but are not. I do not have words for it,¡± the dragon said, dissatisfied.
¡°That¡¯s not a big deal, I just need to know about them. Do they live in groups?¡±
¡°Yes, sometimes many gorillas together. They like to live on top of¡very small mountains.¡±
¡°Those are called ¡®hills¡¯.¡±
¡°They like to live on top of hills. If predator come, then they become like globe, spin down hill.¡±
¡°What?¡± Pryce suppressed a chuckle at the ridiculous image. He supposed it would be pretty terrifying to see 300-kilogram spheres rolling down a hill towards you, but it was also completely absurd, he¡¯d never heard anything like it. He vaguely recalled a spider that tossed itself off of sand dunes to roll down hill, but that was to escape predators, not an offensive maneuver.
¡°Yes, they are strange. They like to live on hills close to but not in forest, so if you are in forest you maybe not see them. They mostly eat fruit, so they maybe not try to eat you,¡± the dragon added, as though he meant this to be reassuring.
¡°That¡¯s¡good, I guess,¡± Pryce said, mentally labeling them as a moderate threat below the raptors, but not above the gryphons. ¡°I¡¯ll call them¡¡± he chuckled at ¡®gorolla¡¯, but felt that he should probably name them something more serious. Asura was fitting for a humanoid with 6 limbs, but it didn¡¯t seem fitting. ¡°¡Armorilla,¡± he decided. ¡°Maybe I change this name later,¡± he added. It felt a little silly.
¡°What does Armorilla mean? Sound is like Gorilla,¡± Fathom noted.
¡°Armor is something humans wear to protect ourselves, like scales made of metal. You said gorillas are hard, it sounds like they have armor, so I name them armorilla.¡±
¡°Dragon have similar thing, make two words sound like one to name thing that is like the two words,¡± he hummed.
¡°Makes sense. Any other interesting animals I should know about?¡±
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
¡°One animal that does not have danger is one that look like turtle, but is very big. Maybe 4 or 7 meters, old turtles much bigger than young turtles.¡±
¡°If it¡¯s on land, then it¡¯s a tortoise,¡± Pryce said, having difficulty imagining the bulk of such a creature. Most animals he¡¯d seen so far ¨C including dragons ¨C were long and sleek. Sure Fathom was a jaw-dropping 13.5 meters in length, but a creature 7 meters in diameter with a thick shell was nothing to scoff at either. ¡°Let me guess, 6 legs?¡± He guessed, clumsily drawing out the seemingly endless loops of lower intestines. He actually didn¡¯t have a jar big enough, he realized too late.
¡°Yes,¡± Fathom said, looking longingly at the intestines like they were noodles.
¡°You want to eat these?¡± Pryce offered, and Fathom snapped them up so quickly he had to check if his fingers were all still attached. He glared at the dragon¡¯s stunt, but Fathom was too busy slurping up his treat to pay him any mind.
¡°Tortoise is black, has things like¡horns on shell, but in many directions,¡± Fathom said once he had mostly finished his snack. He gestured a sort of fan-shape with his talons to carry his point.
¡°Interesting species, I¡¯ll name them black tortoises,¡± Pryce said. ¡°They sound hard to hunt.¡±
¡°Many animals try to hunt black tortoise, but black tortoise shell too strong. Only dragons can hunt them. Taste very good,¡± he said proudly as he licked his chops.
¡°How do you hunt them if their shell is so strong and horn¡has horns?¡± Pryce asked, catching himself at the last second. ¡°Wait, let me guess; you throw rocks at them.¡±
¡°Yes.¡±
Pryce felt a brief pang of sympathy for these poor animals that had to compete with rock-throwing fire-breathing dragons. They never stood a chance. Then again, perhaps it was better for an animal to live here than on the mainland; one thousand dragons could only eat so much compared to 50 million humans.
Pryce tried to extract the kidneys, but accidently poked a hole in a sac that ran along the back of the gryphon¡¯s torso, near the spine. It somewhat resembled a fish¡¯s air bladder, and made a high-pitched wheezing sound as it deflated. He suspected it stored either hydrogen or oxygen.
¡°I wonder what that sac was for,¡± he muttered as he returned his attention to the other organs.
¡°That was hydrogen,¡± Fathom said helpfully.
Pryce froze mid-cut. ¡°What?¡±
¡°That gas that come out. Is hydrogen,¡± the dragon reiterated plainly.
¡°How do you know that?¡± Pryce asked incredulously. He was going to run some tests on it to confirm his suspicions, like burning what gas was left in the sac. Once he removed it, of course, he didn¡¯t want to blow up the carcass ¨C especially not with him practically inside of it.
¡°I can smell hydrogen, you cannot?¡±
¡°No I can¡¯t smell hydrogen,¡± Pryce said drily, realizing it would be useful for a dragon to be able to smell hydrogen. It would mean the presence of another dragon, or at least some other hydrogen-producing creature. If they expelled some of that gas inside of a cave it could stay trapped against the ceilings for some time. ¡°Can gryphons make fire?¡± Pryce asked while he cut out the large heart; it was disproportionately large, and he could tell it had the double aortic arch like a raptor did. Perhaps he should create a classification for the species that shared this¡diaortic trait.
¡°Small fire, they use to make fire with grass to hunt,¡± Fathom explained, surprising Pryce with this application. It must be very dangerous, so they probably had interesting strategies for that. Either that or they simply preyed upon the animals that were killed or incapacitated by the wildfire.
¡°Gryphons hunt together?¡±
¡°Yes, but not with large groups.¡±
¡°Do you think they¡¯re smart? Or have language?¡± Pryce asked, conflicted between feeling excited at so many intelligent species and frustrated at how difficult it would be to reach out to any of them. He doubted any would be interested to sit down and chat like Fathom had been unless they also liked shiny things.
¡°I do not know,¡± Fathom said, shrugging his wings. ¡°Gryphon maybe smart, maybe not. They make noises at other gryphons, but I not sure if this is language.¡±
¡°Let¡¯s not kill any more things that maybe have language,¡± Pryce said, glancing at Fathom to see how he would take this.
¡°Why?¡± The dragon blinked, sounding curious but not defensive.
¡°Because¡¡± Pryce shrugged, unsure how to explain why one should not kill. ¡°Do dragons kill dragons?¡±
¡°Yes, but this is very rare. Most dragons fight and loser goes away.¡±
¡°Why do dragons usually not kill dragons?¡±
This time it was Fathom¡¯s turn to struggle to justify what he had evidently thought was obvious. ¡°When dragon die, then we need to¡be in group,¡± Fathom said, tossing his head in irritation. ¡°What is English for people to be near other people, but not in group?¡±
¡°That is a meeting,¡± Pryce answered, curious to see where Fathom was going with this.
¡°When dragon die, we have meeting, think who have egg. We see who is best at flying, or best at hunting, or best at singing, or strongest, things like that. If dragons often kill dragons then it is¡¡± he trailed off, making a vague motion with his talons.
¡°Complicated?¡± Pryce asked, and Fathom bobbed his head in response. ¡°Do all dragons come to this meeting?¡± Pryce was doubtful this was the case, especially given that this island was about 3300 kilometers from tip to tip. If this meeting took place in the middle, then a dragon might have to fly 1650 kilometers, close to the distance a dragon could cover in a day and a half of flying¡which was coincidentally how far Fathom had said he could fly, so perhaps ¨C
¡°No,¡± Fathom said emphatically, invalidating Pryce¡¯s hypothesis with a single word. ¡°This island have five¡areas. Dragon in one area meet dragon in same area.¡±
¡°Like provinces,¡± Pryce said in realization, it was sort of an obvious solution in retrospect.
¡°From south of island, provinces have around 300 dragons, 250 dragons, 200 dragons, 150 dragons, 100 dragons.¡±
¡°You only need to say ¡®From south of the island, provinces have around 300, 250, 200, 150, and 100 dragons,¡± Pryce corrected.
¡°Understand.¡±
¡°Why so few dragons in the north of the island?¡± Pryce asked, wondering if the provinces were smaller or if the population was just less dense.
¡°North have storms, remember? Less dragons want to be there,¡± Fathom said.
¡°So north has more territory, less dragons, but more storms,¡± Pryce summarized, finally freeing the gryphon¡¯s heart. He had finished removing the major internal organs and now began examining the muscles and bones.
¡°Yes,¡± Fathom confirmed with a bob of his head.
¡°Very interesting,¡± Pryce noted, referring to both dragon society and the muscles he was examining. There were inflated sacs in the muscles, but for what purpose Pryce could not tell. ¡°Thing that holds liquid or gas like this is a ¡®sac¡¯, do you know what these sacs are used for?¡±
¡°Sac is like¡muscle.¡±
¡°What?¡± Pryce asked, baffled by this explanation.
¡°Gas move in sac, can make wings move,¡± Fathom said, demonstrating as he flapped his wings, his chest muscles rippled and flexed. He even seemed to flex his forelegs, oddly enough, and Pryce noticed how the muscles ¨C and apparently gas sacs ¨C in the lower body worked to power the wings.
¡°Your body uses¡pneumatics?!¡± He stammered in disbelief.
¡°What is that?¡± Fathom of course did not understand what Pryce was so amazed by.
¡°You¡push gas to do things,¡± Pryce explained faintly. ¡°Humans make machines that push gas to do work, called pneumatics. If machines push liquid to do work, it is hydraulics.¡± He considered several explanations as he spoke; perhaps the gas sacs just acted as extra oxygen reserves for the muscles, or they were hydrogen reserves, or they acted as shock absorbers rather than muscles, and some of these ideas weren¡¯t mutually exclusive either.
¡°Strange,¡± Fathom shrugged lightly, evidently accepting this topic was beyond his grasp for now.
There was one thing Pryce could do to test his hypothesis; the gryphon¡¯s wings were in an awkwardly raised position, which had struck Pryce as odd, but he assumed that rigor mortis was responsible for it. To test this, he cut several sacs on the left side of the chest and watched the wingtip stiffly lowering as it lost pressure.
Pryce blew out an exasperated sigh, though a smile crept across his face. ¡°Animals on this island are very strange.¡±
¡°Animals from your island are not strange¡but not strange is strange for me,¡± Fathom mused with a shrug.
¡°Yes, but the animals here still seem to be¡more,¡± Pryce said vaguely.
¡°I know one animal that is not like any you show me,¡± Fathom said, sounding excited at the chance to be the one doing the shocking.
¡°Tell me,¡± Pryce said, sitting down for a break.
¡°This animal is 4 or 5 meters long, 2 or 3 meters tall, grey, have four legs, two arms, one big horn on head.¡±
Pryce blinked. ¡°Can you tell me more¡?¡±
Fathom paused to think for a few seconds before shrugging helplessly, giving up on words to to sketch something into the sand.
¡°I¡have no idea what this is supposed to look like,¡± Pryce said, trying and failing to imagine such a creature. ¡°Are those it¡¯s arms? Why are it¡¯s arms so much longer than it¡¯s legs?¡±
¡°Maybe arms are¡not longer than leg,¡± Fathom said, scratching his neck. ¡°I did not look very much,¡± he added defensively.
¡°Uh-huh,¡± Pryce said. ¡°Where does this thing live? Do I need to worry about it?¡±
¡°This animal is not here much, they use arms to eat leafs and fruits. And they are too big to be in places with many trees.¡±
¡°Okay, that¡¯s good to know. Oh, I forgot to ask; how many raptors are here?¡±
¡°I don¡¯t know, some groups there, some groups there. I hunt them and they disappear, then many days later more raptors come,¡± Fathom rumbled balefully as he mentioned the loathsome creatures, who were apparently a sort of vermin to dragons.
¡°So if I go into forest, will raptors find me?¡±
¡°Yes, you probably die,¡± Fathom said bluntly.
¡°But you hunted them not long ago, yes?¡±
¡°Yes, I hunt many raptors, but never no raptors near here,¡± Fathom grumbled peevishly.
¡°Okay, no going into the forest then.¡± Pryce sighed. He thought as much, but he still would¡¯ve liked to explore.
¡°There are also many bugs in forest, some drink blood,¡± Fathom said, adding sympathetically, ¡°You¡do not have scales¡¡±
¡°Yeah, we have those too, they¡¯re called mosquitos, maybe one centimeter long. How big are they here?¡±
¡°Maybe¡five centimeters?¡±
Pryce felt himself pale a little.
¡°Why haven¡¯t I seen any yet?¡± He asked, confused but grateful that he had not yet had that displeasure.
¡°They not here, and not near my home, but forests sometimes have many mosquitos. I do not know why.¡±
¡°Wait, how do you know mosquitoes drink blood? You have scales everywhere.¡±
Fathom flicked his webbed spines in annoyance and shifted his wings pointedly.
¡°Ah, right, stupid question.¡± Pryce rubbed his neck sheepishly. ¡°What other bugs might attack me?¡±
¡°There are many insects. There are insects that are one-half-meter long that can fly, and sometimes I see half-meter long spiders that jump from tree to eat birds.¡±
And just like that, Pryce no longer had any urge to explore the forest.
¡°I forgot, some birds smaller than vermillion birds hunt small animals like you,¡± Fathom said as Pryce examined the gryphon¡¯s beak, trying to find the organ that ignited the gas.
¡°Okay, how big are these birds?¡± Pryce asked, speaking into the gryphon¡¯s fanged beak.
¡°Some are maybe half meter long, largest is orange and red bird, like sunset. This bird is maybe 4 meters long, 6 meters wide. Smaller than vermillion bird.¡±
¡°Alright, I¡¯ll call this one a phoenix. It¡¯s the name of a mythical bird,¡± Pryce answered before Fathom could ask.
¡°More mythical animals?¡± Fathom tossed his head in a manner that made Pryce feel as though the dragon had rolled his eyes.
¡°Yes,¡± Pryce muttered. He couldn¡¯t find anything inside of the beak that looked like it could generate a spark, so how did these animals do it?
¡°Hey, how do you light your fires? You make a snap sound, right?¡± He asked, approximating the sound with a finger snap.
¡°You mean this?¡± The dragon asked, making the electrical snapping noise.
¡°Yes, that, you called it small lightning, right?¡± Pryce had forgotten the name until just now.
¡°Yes, this is how we light fire.¡±
¡°Where do you make the spark in your mouth? Can I see it?¡± Fathom had begun to bring a talon to his mouth, but he stopped upon hearing Pryce¡¯s second question and shied away, bringing his head a little closer to his body in a nervous manner.
¡°What?¡± Pryce asked, then realized he was holding a scalpel. ¡°I won¡¯t hurt you,¡± he said reassuringly as he hastily put down the tool. ¡°I just want to see what makes spark.¡±
¡°Hmm¡okay¡¡± The dragon said warily, and opened his mouth for inspection.
¡°Can you point at the thing that makes spark?¡± Pryce asked, and Fathom¡¯s tongue flicked out of its fleshy sheath to point at the middle of his upper lip and lower lip. Pryce looked closer, wincing a little ¨C the dragon¡¯s breath didn¡¯t smell great.
There was an oddly colored spot on the rim of the lips, but aside from that fact it did not seem like anything special. ¡°If I touch it, can you make it spark?¡±
¡°No touch,¡± Fathom grumbled, perfectly clearly despite his mouth still open. His voice only sounded different, not unintelligible like it would be if a human tried it.
¡°How are you talking with your mouth open?¡± Pryce asked, remembering he also talked quite well with the gryphon in his mouth too.
¡°Why do you need to open and close your mouth to talk?¡± Fathom returned, drawing his head away now.
¡°But¡then why did you open and close your mouth to talk when we first met?¡± Stammered Pryce, unable to make sense of this.
¡°I thought it was like thumbs up,¡± Fathom shrugged.
¡°Oh¡well, you¡¯d make one hell of a ventriloquist,¡± Pryce muttered.
¡°I do not understand those words.¡±
¡°Sorry, not important,¡± Pryce said, shaking his head. He¡¯d finally finished dissecting all of the gryphon¡¯s major organs and limbs, though his examinations had been surface-level at best. There was simply no time or reason to dive deep into their biology right now.
However, he did plan to conduct some tests tomorrow, specifically to determine the makeup of the bones; they were much less dense than normal bones, and had an odd grey tint to them.
¡°So, I go to your home the day after tomorrow, right?¡±
¡°Yes, what are we going to do tomorrow?¡±
Pryce smiled, ¡°I have an idea to measure your mass.¡±
[JOURNAL ENTRY]
Day 38,
After extensive discussions today, I have come to the conclusion that life on this island is insane.
I have no idea why the organisms here seem so¡extra.
The simple answer is more competition, but why? What makes this island different from ours? The climate is significantly warmer and temperature, maybe that has something to do with it.
A more baffling question is why aren¡¯t there more hexapedal animals on the mainland? We have hexapedal aquatic animals, but only a handful of them live on land. Perhaps some tetrapodal creature established a population there first, and outcompeted any incoming hexapedal populations? But that doesn¡¯t really make sense...
One possible explanation is that the lower temperature climate means less energy in the biosphere, which could mean that the advantage of an extra set of limbs is mitigated by the cost to grow them¡ Which would explain why only a few species are able to survive.
As for a lack of large predators, perhaps the lack of a large prey species meant there was no reason for the predators on our island to grow any larger.
I¡¯m not satisfied with these answers, but it¡¯s not like this is a case of simple cause and effect either.
An organism consists of countless molecules
A species consists of countless organisms
An ecosystem consists of countless species
A climate consists of countless more molecules stimulated by the Sun, Earth, Moon, and even the stars.
That is what a biosphere is ¨C the interplay of all of these factors at once, working in tandem to become something more than the sum of its parts.
That is what we seek to understand.
Perhaps one day, someone will.
Wound progress update: The wound appears to have nearly completed the healing process; the scab is in the process of falling off.
Chapter 19, Day 39: Weigh of the Dragon
¡°These bones are strange, darker than normal bones,¡± Pryce observed.
¡°These bones have color like dragon bones, is normal.¡±
Pryce raised an eyebrow. ¡°Dragon bone color is like this?¡± He asked, pointing at the broken vertebrate he had cleaned up for examination.
¡°Yes, but it become more white if you burn it, I do not know why,¡± Fathom said, looking at Pryce to see if he could explain this as well.
¡°It turns whiter¡?¡± Pryce muttered. That was indeed strange; bones would turn black if burnt for long times or high temperatures, at even higher temperatures then the bones would turn to ash. He was assuming the dragon didn¡¯t mean it would turn to ash.
To test this, Pryce made a small wood fire and placed the damaged bone on top of the flame. Sure enough, the bone soon began to lighten. He poked the bone out of the fire to cool it off, but was shocked to see that the bone was actually producing a small aura of flame around it. He watched as the bones continued to lighten, the flames burning out once it had become a shade of sooty white. Using a rag, he wiped away the soot to reveal a bleached white surface.
¡°Huh,¡± Pryce said. He wasn¡¯t sure what to think of this. ¡°Why would it turn white¡?¡± Pryce wondered out loud to himself. He sat down as he stared intently at the neck bone, as if that would make it confess it¡¯s secrets. ¡°And this bone is very light, much lighter than normal bones.¡±
¡°Gryphon bone is dense like dragon bones,¡± Fathom supplied.
¡°Interesting¡¡± Pryce felt like this was a clue to the structure of the bones of dragons and gryphons. They didn¡¯t have the lightly iridescent sheen that raptor bones had, so he assumed they were more closely related to each other than to those animals.
The microscope didn¡¯t help much either; he saw the bones were very porous, but other than that there was not much else he could discern with that device.
The color of the bone lightening seemed like a big hint. Fire was the combination of some carbon-rich molecules with oxygen, hence the term combustion. Carbon was black, and the disappearance of the grey tint in the bones could be explained by the carbon turning into carbon dioxide. Could the grey be indicative of pure carbon?
It couldn¡¯t be graphite, which was theorized to be made up of sheets of pure carbon stacked haphazardly onto each other. These sheets slid off of one another, which was great for making pencils, but not great for the structural integrity of the material.
It couldn¡¯t be diamond either because that was ridiculous; diamond was only hard, and that made it brittle and fragile.
Graphene was a two-dimensional structure of carbon created by researchers a few decades ago using nothing but a block of graphite and cellophane tape, though of course the quantity of the product was too thin to be of actual use. This allotrope of carbon had incredible tensile strength, but could only be produced in quantities far too small to be useful.
And of course, it being two-dimensional made it incredibly weak since it was so thin¡but carbon nanotubes were the very same structure wrapped into a cylindrical shape. What if gryphons used some small amount of carbon nanotubes in their bones? Or they might even use it in other parts of their bodies, like muscles or tendons? The tissue in question had been surprisingly difficult to cut in directions opposite to the muscle fibers, even for a razor-sharp obsidian scalpel.
But that was a bit too fantastical, Pryce thought it was more likely that they incorporated some kind of carbon-fiber structure into the matrix of their bones.
¡°Dragon bones become white when burned like this, yes?¡± Pryce asked, turning to Fathom for confirmation.
¡°Yes, I tell you this 5 seconds ago,¡± Fathom rumbled, proving that dragons were capable of hyperbole.
¡°Let¡¯s try another test,¡± Pryce said, picking up a machete and swinging it down upon at a gryphon¡¯s fibula he¡¯d placed atop of wood log. The machete bounced off the relatively thin bone with a sharp crack, sending it flying several meters away. Upon picking up the bone he could only find a small indentation where he had struck it. Pryce swung the machete as hard as he could many more times, adding a few more minor deformations, but the bone refused to chip or break.
"Can you...break this...?" Pryce asked between pants.
The dragon simply picked up the bone between two talons and crunched down on it with his unusually sharp molars, shearing the thin bone in two. ¡°Bigger bones is very strong, I can not break bones like this,¡± the dragon said, gesturing to the tibia as an example.
¡°I understand,¡± Pryce said, glancing warily at the bone that had so easily resisted a machete. He hoped there weren¡¯t any creatures covered in bone-armor like this.
Pryce turned to Fathom. ¡°This is enough tests on bones for today, I need your help for what I want to do.¡±
¡°Help? How?¡± Fathom asked, tilting his head curiously at Pryce¡¯s excitement.
¡°This is¡not look strong,¡± Fathom said, looking skeptically at the nailed together collection of nine crates that he had just helped push into the ocean.
¡°Can¡¯t you try landing on it? Or moving onto it from the water?¡± Pryce coaxed. He was in swimming trunks, and had already cut notches into the crates to mark the waterline without a dragon on top of them. All he needed now was to record the waterline while Fathom was on it, and he could get his first estimate of the dragon¡¯s mass.
Fathom rumbled uncertainly, but waded knee-deep into the water and stuck his head underneath the waves for a few moments, and seemed to check if there was anything in the water.
Pryce quirked an eyebrow, wondering if there could be predators even in the shallow waters that could give dragons pause. ¡°You see anything?¡± He asked, unsure if the dragon could hear him with his head underwater.
Fathom brought his head back up to ask, ¡°What did you say?¡±
¡°Did you see anything underwater?¡± Pryce asked again.
¡°I see small fish, some jellyfish, not much else,¡± the dragon said dismissively.
¡°Are there any animals that can hurt a dragon in the water?¡±
The dragon gave an uncertain glance at the open ocean, and replied, ¡°Some dragon fly far over ocean, and do not come back. But many dragon go in ocean near beach and be not hurt,¡± he added optimistically after this ominous piece of information.
¡°¡Be careful then, see if no big predators around in ocean,¡± Pryce cautioned, a little worried.
¡°That is why I move my head under water,¡± the dragon said obviously, tossing his head.
¡°Look for details, make sure no predators. I don¡¯t want you to be attacked and hurt,¡± Pryce said, causing Fathom to huff in exasperation as he stuck his head back underwater.
¡°No predators,¡± he said in what Pryce suspected was a playfully mocking tone.
¡°Good,¡± he replied seriously. ¡°Please move onto crates now.¡±
¡°Please?¡± The dragon echoed back this unfamiliar word.
¡°Please is word that you say when you ask someone to do something for you,¡± Pryce explained.
¡°Only hatchlings say that¡± Fathom huffed, but still put a foreclaw on top of the crates to pull himself up. Pryce waded into the water after him with a long-but-sturdy stick and a utility knife; the stick was to help make sure he didn¡¯t step on anything venomous, and the knife was to cut notches into the crates in order to record how far they sunk.
He waited a few meters away in case the dragon fell over or accidently pushed the crates away; he doubted the makeshift floating platform was very stable. Despite the rickety setup, Fathom was able to get himself out of the water by flapping his wings, and he used the same limbs to maintain balance as he perched upon the relatively small three-by-three-meter-wide platform.
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¡°You okay?¡± Pryce asked, seeing that the platform had mostly stopped rocking.
¡°Yes, this is not hard,¡± Fathom scoffed just as a moderately sized wave caused him to flare his wings as a counterbalance. ¡°¡Maybe a little hard,¡± he amended reluctantly.
¡°I¡¯m going to measure the crates now, okay?¡± Pryce asked, continuing on when the dragon gave his assent. He would have ideally preferred to do this experiment in a small lake, but the waves today were about as small as they got, so this was his best chance.
He had tied the crates to a tree using a long rope so that they wouldn¡¯t drift off too far, so it did not take long for him to approach the crates, where the water was about hip-deep.
He stood at a corner of the platform, watching as the waves washed against the crate. He had marked the unloaded waterline on the right faces of the crate when the platform had been unloaded, now he marked the left faces. He hoped that the average between those two points would give a somewhat accurate answer.
¡°Okay, I measured the water,¡± Pryce told Fathom, who had his neck craned down to watch Pryce. ¡°Wait until I move away when you go off the crates, you might make crates hit me,¡± Pryce reminded Fathom.
¡°Yes, I remember this,¡± Fathom said, tossing his head in annoyance just as a wave hit the crates, throwing him off balance and causing him to flare open his wings ¨C too late, the dragon fell backwards, his talons digging into the crates which served only to lift the whole platform up above Pryce¡¯s head as he fell.
The water restricted his movement; having nowhere else to go, Pryce ducked beneath the waves.
¡°That almost killed me, next time, be more careful,¡± Pryce sighed, stabbing the stick into the ground.
Fathom''s spines drooped ashamedly as he helped pull the ragged platform back onto the beach. Pryce was glad he had brought the stick with him; not because it had kept him from stepping on any sharp rocks or venomous animals, but because he was able to stake it into the sandy bed of the beach to block the crates from crashing onto him.
Perhaps he would have been fine lying flat under a meter of water, but the stick had certainly helped his odds.
Once Fathom had pushed the crates back onto the beach, Pryce measured the notches.
|
|
Lowest Measurement (cm)
|
Highest Measurement (cm)
|
Average (cm)
|
|
Unloaded
|
1
|
11
|
5.5
|
|
Loaded
|
53
|
60
|
56.5
|
Pryce first calculated where the waterline should have been to see if there was something wrong with his ¡®apparatus¡¯.
That wasn¡¯t far off from his measured value, so that was a good sign.
Pryce plugged in his measured values to get:
Pryce frowned at that value, unsure of what to think of it. He looked up at the 13.5-meter-long dragon and tried to think if 4,590 kilograms was a plausible weight for him¡When that didn¡¯t work, he tried to think of things that might explain how the number was wrong.
Technically speaking, mass and weight were two different things. Mass was the amount of matter an object had, and weight was the force the object exerted, usually thanks to gravity. What he was measuring now was weight, not mass, as the hydrogen in the dragon would make him somewhat lighter, but it was easier to think in kilograms and he could just multiply it by gravity to get weight, even if it would ignore the weight negated by the hydrogen.
If he calculated the total mass of the platform and the dragon by using the ¡®loaded¡¯ values, he got 5,085 kilograms. Subtract the platform¡¯s 360 kg and that gave him 4,725 kilograms, but he wasn¡¯t sure which value would be more accurate since his uncertainty was so high. The difference in this value compared to his first one was 135 kg higher, which was due to the measured lower water level being 1.5 cm higher than the calculated value.
Regardless, even if his measurements were 10 cm off that would be ¡®only¡¯ a difference of 900 kilograms.
To compare this value against other creatures, he tried applying the square-cube law to the first flying creature he could think of; a pigeon. They were about 30 cm in length and had a mass of around 300 grams. Fathom was 45 times longer than a pigeon, so that meant 300 grams multiplied by 45
3 which was¡27,337.5 kilograms. Okay, maybe that wasn¡¯t a good model to use.
He tried scaling up the gryphon instead. That got him a mass of 6,769 kg, while doing the same with raptor specimens #1 and #2 got him 5,905 kg and 6,164 kg, respectively.
Dragons were flying creatures, so it made sense that they would be lighter than these non-flying ones. He felt a bit better about his calculated value after calculating these approximations; 4,590 didn¡¯t seem a ridiculous value.
In a technical sense, his uncertainty should be half of his lowest unit of precision, which would be half a centimeter. However, the crests and troughs of the waves varied so much that it made the uncertainty far greater than that. Pryce decided to use an uncertainty of 2.5 centimeters just to give himself a range he was confident in:
Pryce looked up and was startled to see the underside of Fathom¡¯s neck, the dragon peering at the mostly incomprehensible scribbles.
¡°How much mass do I have?¡± He asked curiously, earlier shame evidently forgotten.
¡°You have a mass of around 4,590 kilograms, I have a mass of 70 kilograms.¡± Pryce had weighed himself on a scale earlier and found he was still about 5 kilograms short of his usual mass.
¡°That mean I have more mass than 65 humans, yes?¡± The dragon asked, sounding satisfied.
¡°Yeah, that sounds right ¨C wait, how did you calculate that so fast?¡± Pryce stared, surprised by this casual use of long division.
¡°This is like if dragon have 4,590 shiny things, but can only carry 70 shiny things, then dragon need to fly 66 times to move all shiny things,¡± Fathom explained, as if this were a common problem for a dragon to encounter.
¡°Do dragons move shiny things often?¡±
¡°No, that is example, sometimes dragons trade shiny things, or take shiny things from dead dragon, need to use division.¡±
¡°I¡understand,¡± Pryce shrugged. Humans probably developed math to do much of the same things if he thought about it, though it was most likely centered around trade.
¡°How do you find mass?¡± Fathom asked, squinting at the numbers.
Pryce wondered how to best explain the logic behind this principle for a few moments, then answered, ¡°One cubic meter of water is 1,000 kilograms, now imagine this crate is 1,000 kilograms, what will happen if you put this crate on water?¡±
¡°If¡if crate has same density as water¡crate will not sink, not float,¡± Fathom said, slowly.
¡°Yes, exactly!¡± Pryce said approvingly. ¡°So if half of this crate is underwater, then the crate and the thing on top of the crate is 500 kilograms.¡±
¡°This makes sense,¡± Fathom nodded. ¡°You have nine crates, and¡you know weight of crates?¡±
¡°Yes, I need to know the weight of the crates,¡± Pryce said, impressed by the dragon¡¯s quick thinking yet again. ¡°Each crate is 40 kilograms, so this platform is 360 kilograms.¡±
¡°How much I sink? 51 centimeters?¡± Fathom tilted his head. ¡°That does not make sense.¡±
¡°Uh, yeah,¡± Pryce said, surprised again by how fast Fathom thought. He explained how he calculated the value of the crates when unloaded, and how it was different from what he measured, probably due to the waves throwing off his measurements. Then he explained how he took the difference between the loaded and unloaded measurements to get a difference of 51 centimeters, but the total depth of the waterline was 56.5 cm.
¡°This is¡smart,¡± Fathom noted. ¡°Unit of mass is very useful.¡±
¡°Yes, that reminds me, how many kilograms do you think dragons can carry when flying?¡± Pryce asked, he needed to know how much he could bring to and from Fathom¡¯s home after all. The dragon rumbled in thought, and Pryce added, ¡°The pigs you take had around 100 kilograms of mass. You took two, how many more do you think you could take?¡± It was obvious he could fly with more than 200 kilograms since he had brought Pryce the 250-kilogram Gryphon.
¡°¡I can only carry three pigs,¡± Fathom said, clenching his foreclaws and teeth pointedly. ¡°I need to use legs to land.¡±
Pryce shook his head, ¡°Size not important, I am talking about mass, how much mass can you carry? Can you carry two gryphons?¡± He asked, and Fathom looked unsure of this though he did not voice any denials.
After a few seconds he slowly admitted, ¡°¡Maybe two not big gryphons?¡±
¡°So you can carry two small gryphons,¡± Pryce clarified.
¡°Not big is different from small,¡± Fathom justified pridefully.
¡°Okay, okay,¡± Pryce said, relenting with a smile. ¡°You can carry two gryphons that are not big, maybe 300 or 400 kilograms?¡±
Fathom let out a pleased rumble in response, bobbing his head in approval.
¡°Okay, you come here tomorrow morning, then take me and my things to your home, right?¡± Pryce asked.
¡°Yes, you bring shiny things?¡±
¡°Yeah, I can bring shiny things,¡± Pryce said, smiling at the dragon¡¯s one-track mind. ¡°Is there anything you want in particular?¡±
¡°Shiny things, alcohol, pigs,¡± Fathom listed immediately, and Pryce noted with humor that treasures, alcohol, and food were all some of the things most coveted by humans as well.
¡°You can take the last pig tonight, that way you don¡¯t have to carry me and the pig at the same time tomorrow.¡±
¡°I can carry you and pig,¡± Fathom scoffed, offended by the implication that he could not.
¡°I will be bringing other things, will be heavy,¡± Pryce warned, feeling less apologetic about weighing down the dragon and more so towards the last pig now.
¡°Good,¡± Fathom rumbled, an avaricious gleam in his eyes.
[JOURNAL ENTRY]
Day 39,
By using Fathom as a baseline, I can scale up his weight to the shortest and longest dragons to estimate a weight range for the species. Fathom told me dragons range from about 12 ¨C 14 meters in length, that gives me a result of approximately 3200 kg ¨C 6300 kg.
I¡¯m not sure if the females are denser than males or not, but they are larger. I cannot account for sexual dimorphism until I weigh a female dragon, and not reliably until I weigh at least a few individuals of each sex. Fathom claims to be a large male, and while he does not seem prone to deceit, he is quite prideful, so I would not put it past him to be boasting a little.
Regrettably, I do not have the resources on hand to determine the exact type of carbon that makes up the bones ¨C if that is even what it is. As things are, I¡¯m leaning towards the explanation of organic carbon fiber strengthening the bones.
Final wound progress update: The scabs have completely fallen off, I¡¯m quite excited to be visiting Fathom¡¯s home tomorrow.
Chapter 20, Day 40, Part 1: Sojourner
Pryce was used to waking up early in the morning, but this time he woke up with great anticipation for the day to come. Of course, he had already gathered his things yesterday, but he made sure to double check everything before Fathom arrived.
The dragon could fly from his home to the Horizon in a little over 3 minutes, so it wasn¡¯t really that big of a deal if he forgot anything. Still, it was in his nature to be thorough, and that¡¯s what he did.
Food, water, a construction helmet, a rifle, 60 rounds of ammo, measuring devices, cameras, notebooks, and standard medical supplies including, of course, antibiotics. He even brought enough to (probably) dose a dragon, though he hoped that wouldn¡¯t be necessary.
He didn¡¯t know how many milligrams per kilogram would be the correct dosage for a dragon, but humans were usually prescribed an oral dosage of 4.29 mg/kg, to be taken every 6 hours, or 4 per day. Pryce had been consulted on how much antibiotics they should bring aboard the ship; he had suggested bringing enough penicillin to dose the entire crew every day for 2 months since the medicine was so light. Rounding that value of 2.88 kilograms meant they decided to stock 3 kilograms aboard the ship.
Using humans as a model, a dragon of a mass of 4,590-kilograms would require 19.69 grams per dose, 78.76 grams per day, and for an 8-day prescription that would mean 630.12 grams of penicillin. He decided to bring 1 kg of penicillin, hoping he wouldn¡¯t have to use it. Even if dragons required a far higher dosage per kilogram, he could just condense the prescription and have Fathom help him get the rest of the antibiotics ¨C he didn¡¯t want to bring the entire stock at once in case Fathom accidently dropped his cargo or something.
Once he was done checking all his cargo, he simply waited for Fathom to come pick him up, fidgeting with excitement at the prospect of flying upon the back of a dragon.
¡°What do you mean I can¡¯t sit on your back?¡± Pryce said, trying to not complain.
¡°How will you stay on my back?¡± Fathom asked sensibly.
¡°I can wrap my arms around your neck, how about that?¡± Pryce asked hopefully, miming the motion.
Fathom pulled his head back a little, looking a bit uncomfortable. ¡°If your hands open, you fall and die.¡±
That was very true, though this bit of reason did little to assuage his great disappointment.
¡°What if I used rope? Or tied a chain around your neck?¡± Pryce asked, wondering if this was perhaps a little manipulative. Indeed, Fathom stared down at the shiny stainless-steel chain with a longing expression.
¡°Why do you want to sit on my back very much?¡± Fathom asked, a little suspicious.
¡°I¡want to,¡± Pryce weakly justified.
¡°You are in less danger in my hands,¡± Fathom said, using the human word for his foreclaws, which was just as well; they were vaguely hand shaped and had enough dexterity to be called such.
¡°¡okay,¡± Pryce sighed heavily. ¡°Here¡¯s my bags, I put a chain through them, so you just need to grab the chain to lift all of them. And you can wear this too, I guess,¡± he said, gesturing to the length of chain he had adjusted some days ago in hopes of securing himself upon the dragon¡¯s back as they flew.
Fathom placed the loop of stainless-steel chain over his muzzle and shook his neck to let the chain fall, settling against his chest. It did look quite nice against his dark blue scales despite the fact that it was not at all intended for the purpose of jewelry.
Next the dragon lifted the chained backpacks experimentally, evidently not finding much difficulty in the one-hundred-and-fifty-odd kilograms Pryce brought.
¡°You bring¡this?¡± Fathom asked, noticing the rifle.
¡°Yes, this is a ¡®rifle¡¯. What if raptors try to kill me?¡± Pryce raised an eyebrow, hoping Fathom wouldn¡¯t refuse to bring the weapon along.
¡°How does rifle kill things?¡± Fathom asked, eyes shifting between Pryce and the firearm. ¡°You do not touch raptors, but raptors die.¡±
¡°Ah, right,¡± Pryce said, remembering that Fathom had seen him use it before. ¡°This is like rocket, fire make hot gas, and hot gas push small piece of metal out very very fast, around 800 meters per second.¡±
¡°This¡can kill a dragon?¡± Fathom asked warily.
¡°This can hurt a dragon, if I hit head it maybe kill, but if I hit chest then I don¡¯t know.¡±
Fathom rumbled a little anxiously as he responded, ¡°I do not like this rifle. Why you bring it? I will protect you.¡±
Pryce was thrown off by the unexpected offer, but he argued that, ¡°Rifle is a weapon, like your talons. If you do not attack me, I promise I will not try to shoot you.¡±
The dragon looked down at his talons, then at Pryce¡¯s ineffectual fingers. ¡°This¡makes sense, you can bring rifle,¡± he grumbled begrudgingly, then he extended a foreclaw towards Pryce, who awkwardly raised his arms above his torso, unsure of what to do. Fathom was gentle for all his great strength, his foreclaws curled around his torso and his fingers rested against his armpits, distributing his weight as much as reasonably possible as he picked the human up.
¡°Whoa,¡± Pryce said involuntarily. Being picked up bodily was an unexpectedly odd feeling ¨C he felt like his shoes were about to fall off though he knew he had laced them up tightly.
¡°Are you hurt?¡± Fathom asked, easing his grip a little too much.
¡°No, no, I was just surprised, this is very strange,¡± Pryce said. ¡°Grab stronger like before, I don¡¯t want to fall,¡± he added a little nervously.
¡°I fly now, yes?¡± Fathom asked, adjusting his grip.
¡°Yes.¡± Pryce braced himself as Fathom coiled the powerful muscles in his legs, then leapt into the air, jarring Pryce. If the human were calmer, he may have realized that the dragon had leapt with less force than normal so as to not injure his passenger. As it was, he only vaguely noticed that Fathom seemed to flap harder than usual as the ground gradually fell away in time with each wingbeat, causing Pryce to feel a little nauseous.
He looked to the horizon, trying his best to not be sick; he doubted Fathom would appreciate that. Once the dragon gained adequate elevation, he was able to propel himself forward through the air, and Pryce was fortunately subjected to a much less jarring experience as Fathom rode upon the thermals.
A few seconds into a glide, and Pryce was able to relax somewhat. The way the dragon¡¯s foreclaws rested meant that he was held awkwardly at a diagonal angle, so he had to look up in order to see the horizon; but that did not bother him in the slightest when he truly took in the amazing view from so high above the ground.
He had flown on planes before, of course, and airplanes were far faster than dragons, but it was another thing entirely to feel the wind rushing past your face and through your hair. Pryce couldn¡¯t stop himself from grinning madly, and nor did he wish to.
¡°This is good?¡± Fathom asked, curling his neck to look down at Pryce so that his head was upside-down.
¡°This is great! This is amazing!¡± Pryce shouted over the winds, and the dragon made a pleased rumble in response, the tremors traveling throughout Pryce¡¯s body through the dragon¡¯s arm.
Pryce wasn¡¯t sure how to measure the velocity of the dragon, but he estimated it to be around 20 ¨C 30 km/hr once the dragon had gained enough elevation and could focus on propelling himself forward. He watched the river ¨C Eulogy river ¨C meander vaguely westwards from the ocean towards the base of the mountain range in the distance.
Fathom seemed to follow the general direction of Eulogy river, and Pryce realized he forgot to check the time on the chronometer before they left. He had planned to record exactly how many seconds it took for the dragon to fly from The Horizon to his home, but he supposed he could just do that on the way back.
¡°Is this your normal speed?¡± Pryce called out over the wind.
¡°No, if I fly normal speed I shake you,¡± Fathom said, huffing in mild annoyance.
¡°Oh, thank you,¡± Pryce said gratefully, patting the dragon¡¯s index talon appreciatively, and Fathom turned his head away to focus on flying.
Eventually the dragon arrived at the base of the nearest mountain, the river curving around it. Fathom proceeded to climb in elevation until he arrived at a structure that was at least partly artificial in nature; it seemed to be a partly exposed cave system that had logs of wood blocking several holes for reasons not readily apparent. Several ¡®lizards¡¯ and other unfamiliar creatures darted away to hide as they heard the dragon¡¯s wingbeats, and by the time his shadow was cast upon the mountainside the surrounding area was completely deserted.
Perhaps it was the cargo in his foreclaws, but Fathom landed a bit clumsily, jarring Pryce a little before gently setting him down. Pryce wobbled on his feet as he felt a bit of vertigo, but it wasn¡¯t too bad. He knew it couldn¡¯t have been more than ten minutes, but somehow the flight had felt long and short at the same time.
¡°How many beats did it take for you to fly from ship to here?¡±
¡°Around 40 beats,¡± Fathom answered, setting his bags down with care.
¡°So that¡¯s 480 seconds,¡± Pryce nodded. ¡°Then that means it¡¯s about 2.6 kilometers from here to the ship.¡±
¡°You think I go almost five-point-four and some meters per second?¡± Fathom asked, cocking his head as he pondered if that was a fast or slow speed.
¡°¡Ye¡yes?¡± Pryce still wasn¡¯t used to hearing the dragon casually doing fairly challenging mental math yet.
¡°¡you can not do this math?¡± Fathom asked, a note of complacency in his voice.
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
¡°I can, it just takes a few seconds,¡± Pryce said, turning to inspect his luggage while the dragon rumbled skeptically. ¡°Help me carry these, please.¡±
Fathom obliged, picking up the chain in his jaws as he padded into a large cave entrance. Pryce followed a safe distance behind from his lashing tail, examining the symbols and icons scratched into the side of the cave entrance.
¡°Are these words your name?¡± Pryce asked, hoping it was not; there seemed to be many characters.
Fathom set his bags down in a corner of the cave, and turned to face Pryce. ¡°Yes and no. These words are parent names,¡± he pointed at the symbols on the right of the arch. ¡°This word is my name, this is name of my mate, and this is name of my daughter,¡± he said, this time pointing to the two symbols at the center and the lone text on the left side of the arch.
¡°Words go from right to left? Human words go left to right,¡± Pryce asked, hesitant if now was a good time to ask about Fathom¡¯s family.
¡°Words go like sun when you point north,¡± Fathom explained.
¡°Makes sense,¡± Pryce said, suppressing his curiosity over Fathom¡¯s past. Instead he took interest in how their culture¡¯s fascination or regard for the sun appeared in the way they arranged their text. ¡°What do you want to show me first?¡±
¡°I already show you things, next thing will not be first.¡±
Pryce rolled his eyes. ¡°You know what I mean.¡±
Fathom tilted his head in what seemed to be genuine confusion. ¡°But¡this is first?¡±
¡°¡Never mind.¡±
The first thing Fathom showed him was in fact, breakfast. Or¡brunch, technically.
Pryce realized he never asked what dragons did with food, though this question was still answered when Fathom shifted a stone slab to reveal a steaming pit which contained something wrapped in leaves.
Pryce sniffed the air, smelling the distinct smell of roasting meat along with some other foreign flavors. He watched as Fathom stabbed the leaf-shrouded meat with a stick that was closer to the trunk of a small tree than a branch, and used it like a skewer to lift the thing out of the pit.
Pryce watched with great interest, wondering if he should bring out the camera before deciding that resource should be used for something more important. He had a great stockpile of instant and normal film, but it was still limited.
Fathom unwrapped the leaves, revealing it was the last pig Pryce had given him yesterday.
¡°Interesting, this is called ¡®cooking¡¯, how did you cook pig?¡± Pryce asked, though he was fairly certain it was a method similar to the old ways of cooking some cultures had.
¡°I drink pig blood, put salt in pig. Then I put wood in hole, burn wood. When fire is very small, I put in pig last night,¡± Fathom summarized, looking rather proud of himself.
¡°Very interesting, some humans do this too. Do all dragons do this, or just you?¡± Pryce asked, curious to know if Fathom was an outlier.
¡°My father and mother teach me this, but some things I use different. Different leaves, different wood, different shape of hole in ground. You give me salt too,¡± Fathom added happily, flicking his tongue out in anticipation.
¡°If I knew you had cooking, I would have given you spices,¡± Pryce said. ¡°Those are things that give food more taste, like leaves or wood,¡± he added before Fathom could ask.
¡°¡I did not think of this,¡± Fathom said. ¡°We go back to ship, get spices?¡± He stared at the pig as he said so, looking quite reluctant to leave.
¡°No, spices are added before or during cooking, not at the end. We can eat things with spices later,¡± Pryce said, digging through his backpack for utensils. He had only brought bread, cheese, and jerky, so he certainly wasn¡¯t going to turn down some fresh meat; especially not meat prepared by a dragon. ¡°Do you want some cheese? It¡¯s very good,¡± Pryce offered, deciding to eat the bread with the pork.
¡°Cheese?¡± Fathom asked, flicking his tongue at the strange white slice of parmesan. Other types of cheeses didn¡¯t last very long at room temperature, so the ship only had parmesan and some other long-lasting varieties to choose from. ¡°What is cheese made from?¡±
Pryce supposed it was quite unrecognizable from anything in the natural world, despite how much of a food staple it was. ¡°This is made from milk,¡± he said. ¡°Milk is ¨C¡±
¡°Like Milky Way?¡± Fathom asked, cutting him off.
¡°Yes! Milky way is named from milk, and milk is white liquid that humans and many other animals make,¡± Pryce explained.
Fathom drew his head back slowly, giving Pryce a very strange look.
¡°What?¡± Pryce asked, then belatedly realized his error. ¡°It¡¯s a liquid that offspring dr ¨C¡± he stopped, aware this was not helping. It took a few more minutes of explaining that female mammals made milk for their offspring, and by the end of it Fathom still did not look very inclined to try it.
¡°I do not want to try human milk,¡± he said. ¡°And cheese smell¡bad,¡± he added tactfully.
¡°It¡¯s not made from human milk, it¡¯s made from animal milk,¡± Pryce corrected.
¡°Humans drink other animal milk? Animal milk for their offspring?¡± Fathom asked, sounding nine parts confused and one part disgusted.
¡°Well¡when you say it like that¡¡± Pryce rubbed his neck awkwardly, suddenly aware that it was kind of gross. ¡°It¡¯s not worse than eating animal meat,¡± he said defensively.
¡°No, but this is stranger,¡± Fathom said, moving on from the topic to take a bite out of the pork, rumbling with evident pleasure as he did so.
Pryce sighed, giving up and trying some pork haunch. He put it in his mouth and remembered that some of the plant life on this island might be poisonous to him right before he bit down on it.
Sighing, he took the piece of meat out and put it back onto the roast and took one of the cooked leaves to rub against his lips.
¡°What are you doing?¡± Fathom asked around a mouthful of pork shoulder, bemused by the human¡¯s odd behavior.
¡°I am not from this island; these leaves might be poisonous to me,¡± Pryce explained. ¡°You said you eat fungi but they make you feel sick, right? Those fungi were poisonous.¡±
Fathom rumbled understandingly, then tore off another mouthful of pork.
¡°I¡¯m going to eat a little bit of leaf, if it is poisonous then I only get a little sick and not die,¡± he sighed, his stomach grumbling as it expected meat and was instead given a sliver of a leaf. At least the leaf had a nice, light flavor. It was not one that he could describe, but it was nonetheless a pleasant one.
Pryce sat facing away from the feasting dragon to begin his own dismal meal. He knew heat destroyed most poisons, so Pryce told himself that it didn¡¯t make sense to risk his health for some meat.
Unfortunately, this perfectly reasonable argument satisfied his stomach as much as the cold bread had.
Pryce had finished his meal long before Fathom had, as the dragon seemed to be savoring his exotic treat. Once he was done with the meat, the dragon started crunching on the bones with evident satisfaction.
¡°Are pig bones weaker than gryphon bones?¡± Pryce asked as he watched the dragon easily cracking apart the thick bones to lick up the rich marrow.
¡°Yes, these bones much weaker, taste very good,¡± Fathom said, speaking over the snapping of bones in his mouth.
¡°Pigs probably taste much better than other animals here,¡± Pryce said, thinking of how tough gryphon or dragon meat would be.
¡°You do not have more pigs?¡± The dragon asked hopefully, picking at his teeth with a rib bone.
¡°Nope, only animals on ship left are chickens. They are small, but they do taste good.¡±
¡°I can eat chicken later?¡±
¡°Eh¡¡± Pryce was reluctant to give away those. ¡°Chickens make eggs, I eat those.¡±
¡°You¡have chickens for eggs?¡± Fathom asked, sounding mildly surprised.
Pryce blinked. ¡°Yes, we have chickens for eggs and meat, I thought you knew this?¡±
¡°I know you have animals for meat, but have animals for eggs is¡different.¡± The dragon seemed to find the practice a little distasteful.
Pryce shrugged, saying, ¡°Humans are not very strong. For many thousands of years we use animals for many things.¡±
¡°Humans¡are very different,¡± Fathom rumbled, looking slightly troubled. ¡°¡Do humans tell other humans everything? Is there a word for things that you do not tell other humans?¡±
¡°Thing that you do not tell others is a secret,¡± Pryce answered. ¡°One or two people can have secrets, but if more people have it then it is usually not a secret anymore.¡±
¡°I will tell you a secret, you do not tell other dragons, yes?¡±
¡°Okay, I will keep this secret,¡± Pryce said, leaning forward curiously. He had never seen Fathom exercise caution when telling him something before.
¡°Do humans have word for keeping animals?¡±
¡°Yes, this is called ¡®farming¡¯. Pigs and chickens are farm animals.¡±
¡°I¡farm lizards,¡± the dragon said in a low tone of admission. ¡°Lizards live here, I only eat some and the others stay.¡±
Pryce raised his eyebrows, recognizing the behavior. ¡°Yes, I know some animals do this. Ducks make nests near alligator nests, is safer even if alligator eat some ducks.¡± He looked up at Fathom, who still looked a bit nervous. ¡°This is why you are so blue, yes?¡±
¡°¡yes,¡± Fathom said, one foreclaw scratching the other anxiously.
¡°Why are you nervous? I do not understand,¡± Pryce asked.
¡°Dragons do not¡have farm animals, dragons hunt animals,¡± Fathom said.
Pryce scratched his chin in thought as he considered this. ¡°I think most dragons probably do something like farming, mostly dragons who have much color use¡things like this. This is smart, not bad,¡± he said, trying to sound encouraging.
Fathom seemed to seriously consider Pryce¡¯s words, and drew himself back up a little. ¡°This makes sense. Dragons keep many secrets from other dragons, what you say is¡can happen.¡±
¡°Word for ¡®can happen¡¯ is ¡®possible¡¯. ¡®Can not happen¡¯ is ¡®impossible¡¯.¡±
¡°I understand,¡± Fathom nodded.
¡°So¡can I see the inside of your home?¡± Pryce asked, resisting the urge to rub his hands together in excitement.
¡°Yes, I show you my things,¡± Fathom turned to walk into the cave''s entrance; it was large enough to easily fit him, and Pryce followed suit.
The interior of the cave was simple and somewhat domelike, though it was far from smooth. Pryce could see some evidence of the dragon having done work to expand and clear out the cave; scratched walls, leftover remnants of shattered boulders, and stumps of stalagmites and stalactites littered the corners of the caves.
It was somewhat dark inside the cave, but once his eyes had adjusted, he could see clearly thanks to the small holes in the cave walls.
Fathom introduced him to each of the three deeper chambers; the first one held dried plants which Fathom said were used like spices, the second was where Fathom slept, and the third¡
¡°This is¡treasure chamber,¡± Fathom said, moving some wooden logs to unblock the passageway. ¡°This is secret,¡± he paused to turn his head and gaze pointedly to Pryce.
¡°I promise not to tell anyone,¡± Pryce said seriously, though he privately wondered how much security a few wooden logs would provide.
Fathom padded into the dark passageway, and Pryce followed hesitantly, wondering if he should go get his lantern. They made it to a larger chamber with a hole in the ceiling to allow sunlight in, allowing Pryce to see several tree trunks that had been hollowed into shelves. Upon those shelves sat an impressive number of shiny trinkets including but not limited to shells, amber, metal nuggets, and crystals.
¡°Very interesting,¡± Pryce complimented. He noticed with interest that the tree trunks were stacked upon one another, and a large shelf had been stacked five high. This shelf had holes carved into it such that two long sticks could run through each end of the shelf and hold it all together. He personally found the shelves to be more interesting than the ¡®treasures¡¯, as most of them were worthless to humans, but they were all quite pretty in their own way. Some were geodes or sizable crystals, but he wasn¡¯t a geologist and had no idea how to differentiate the common gems from the rare ones. He¡¯d check them out using a geology textbook later.
¡°Where¡¯s the things I gave you?¡± Pryce asked, noticing the absence of his gifts.
Fathom huffed, and seemed to gather himself before stepping forward to push the largest shelf to the side, revealing a small entrance that Pryce doubted the dragon could easily squeeze through.
He was immediately proven wrong when Fathom slipped into the hole, apparently dragons were a lot more limber than they looked. Pryce followed into the pitch darkness slowly with his arms outstretched, making sure he wasn¡¯t going to run into any stone walls.
¡°What are you doing?¡± Fathom asked from somewhere in the cave. There was no echo, so this particular chamber couldn¡¯t be very large.
¡°I can¡¯t see,¡± Pryce said, a little frustrated.
¡°You can¡¯t see? Human eyes are very not good,¡± Fathom huffed sympathetically.
¡°Yeah yeah,¡± Pryce grumbled before shortly stumbling into Fathom¡¯s scaled hide, causing the dragon to snort in amusement. ¡°Why is it so dark in here?¡± He groused, eyes finally adjusting so he could see a little.
¡°Because this,¡± Fathom said, reaching a foreclaw out to move something that almost completely blocked out the faint light from the previous chamber.
¡°Hey, I can¡¯t see!¡± Pryce protested, completely blind again.
¡°Wait,¡± Fathom rumbled. Pryce heard the dragon exhale, then he saw ¨C and heard ¨C the snap of a spark, with a crackle the dragon had lit a stick aflame like a primitive torch.
¡°I could¡¯ve brought my lamp,¡± Pryce was about to grumble, but was silenced by the wall of glimmering light surrounding him on all sides like an imitation of the night sky.
¡°What¡is this?¡± He asked in breathless wonder.
¡°This is¡a dragon¡¯s Star Sky,¡± Fathom said, translating the term. ¡°We make this using treasures we find or take, each ¡®star¡¯ is a treasure from something we did.¡±
¡°Things that happen in the past to someone is¡a story,¡± Pryce said in realization.
Fathom nodded, ¡°This is my story.¡±
Chapter 21, Day 40, Part 2: Downfall
Pryce had gotten his lantern so that the torch didn¡¯t suffocate the two of them, and he sat facing Fathom as the dragon spoke of his past.
¡°I hatched 52 years ago, my father and mother are very strong dragons,¡± Fathom began, gesturing at some dusty looking shards of eggshell. ¡°Dragons leave parents when they are ten years old, and that is what I did. I was strong and fast, so I won many fights,¡± he said, looking nostalgically at the glittering trophies embedded into the wall as he recalled his youth. ¡°I tell you this earlier, males fight males, females fight females, strongest two dragons can become mates.¡±
¡°What if¡they don¡¯t like each other?¡± Pryce asked, bemused by this alien method of courting.
¡°Mates do not need to like each other,¡± Fathom said, equally confused. ¡°Mates only need to make egg, protect hatchling.¡±
It sounded more like a business transaction than a romantic affair, which Pryce supposed made sense when compared to the total lifespan of a dragon.
¡°Sometimes mates like each other, stay together after hatchling is adult,¡± Fathom added, seeing Pryce¡¯s confusion. ¡°They become¡friends?¡± Fathom said uncertainly.
¡°Usually, humans have some or many friends, but only one ¡®mate¡¯,¡± Pryce explained.
¡°Strange,¡± Fathoms said, tossing his head, though he had to take care not to hit the ceiling as he did so. ¡°I was speaking, you stop me,¡± he chided lightly.
¡°Sorry, sorry, I¡¯ll let you speak.¡±
¡°I was 31 years old when I beat the other males in my province, this is very young for a dragon to have an egg,¡± he said pridefully, though without much of his usual bluster. ¡°I become mates with a dragon, his name is Ahnngyr-?.¡± Fathom gestured to some shed scales embedded into the wall, surrounding an iridescent ammonite fossil; it seemed the treasures were arranged in chronological order. If one were entering the chamber, then it would start on the left with his eggshell and progress clockwise to this fossil at around 3 o¡¯clock.
¡°His?¡± Pryce asked, then realized he had never taught Fathom gender-related pronouns. Both Pryce and Fathom were male, so the topic had simply never arose. ¡°Oh, for male you say he, him, his, for female you say she, her, hers.¡±
¡°English is so complicated,¡± Fathom grumbled. ¡°What name do you want to give¡her? H¡she was blue, like me.¡±
¡°Yes, that¡¯s right, and how about¡Abyss?¡± Pryce suggested.
¡°What does ¡®Abyss¡¯ mean?¡± Fathom asked severely, squinting his eyes. Apparently, he did not trust Pryce¡¯s naming sense.
¡°Abyss means deep ocean, or deep hole in ocean,¡± Pryce said, hoping it would be suitable.
¡°This¡is a good name,¡± Fathom said, low and quiet. ¡°We have egg 21 years ago, hatchling hatch 20 years ago, her name is Ahnoumh-?.¡±
Fathom looked expectantly at Pryce, who struggled to find a name for the dragon¡¯s hatchling. ¡°What color is she?¡±
¡°She is blue, like me and Abyss.¡±
Pryce nodded; it made sense that two blue dragons would know the trick to getting lots of blue-pigmented prey for their offspring. He¡¯d name the hatchling¡¯s parents Fathom and Abyss, and to fathom an abyss was to¡actually, Pryce didn¡¯t think there was a word for understanding the impossible. To ¡®divine¡¯ something was the closest word he could think of, but he wasn¡¯t going to name a dragon that. But another word for divine was¡
¡°How about Celeste?¡± Pryce asked. ¡°Celeste means sky, or sky-like.¡±
¡°¡Yes, this name is good,¡± Fathom nodded in approval.
¡°Is your hatchling¡¯s name the first half of Abyss¡¯s dragon name and the second half of your dragon name?¡±
¡°Yes,¡± Fathom grumbled, ¡°We fight to see which of us give first half of our name. She win.¡±
¡°You fought? How did you fight?¡± Pryce asked, unsure if this was a physical fight or some kind of competition.
¡°We see who can hunt and bring back bigger prey in one hour,¡± Fathom said, still grumbling but sounding a bit happier at the memory. ¡°I hunt a not-adult black tortoise, she hunt a not-adult ¡thing I draw with long arms.¡±
¡°Oh, that. I will call it a ¡®Bull¡¯ for now, I maybe change the name when I see it.¡±
¡°She hunt a big bull,¡± Fathom huffed. ¡°She can not carry big bull, so she used her claws to carve bull, make it lighter. I did not think of that.¡±
¡°She sounds smart,¡± Pryce said, smiling.
¡°Yes,¡± Fathom sighed. ¡°One year I go hunting in a storm, but¡wind was very strong, I fall,¡± the dragon said, shamefully presenting his left wing to Pryce.
A dragon¡¯s wings consisted of a membrane stretched between four bones that were approximately analogous in structure to human fingers, but only now did Pryce realize he had not seen Fathom¡¯s left wing up close before, and that was why he had never noticed that the phalange of Fathom¡¯s index ¡®finger¡¯ was somewhat bent; not by much, but it seemed like it might cause some issues with flight.
¡°¡This was a broken bone, broken bone that did not heal right is called a ¡®malunion¡¯,¡± Pryce said, grimacing in sympathy. ¡°How much does it change your flying?¡±
¡°I fly good, but not very good like before,¡± Fathom said, voice low and subdued. Then he perked up and asked with voice full of hope, ¡°You are healer, you can heal this?¡±
¡°No, no,¡± Pryce hurriedly denied. ¡°I heal humans, human body very different from dragon body. I know very little about dragons, if I try to heal you, I probably hurt your wing more.¡±
Fathom¡¯s excited spines slowly lowered along with his head as he sighed, though he looked like he wanted to argue the point. Pryce felt bad about dashing his hopes so badly, but it was best to be truthful. He might have some chance of helping him in the future, but that was years of study later, if at all.
¡°So, what happened after you broke your wing?¡± Pryce asked, prompting Fathom to continue.
¡°¡One year after I broke my wing, a dragon come to fight me. Abyss tell me to not fight, but¡after I break wing, I can not fly for more than one hundred days. When dragon come to fight me, I want to¡know I can fight. So, I fight.¡±
¡°To show you are right, or to show that you can do something is to prove yourself,¡± Pryce said, nodding sympathetically.
Fathom closed his eyes in pain, and with a great effort said, ¡°I lose.¡±
¡°But¡dragons don¡¯t kill each other?¡± Pryce asked, unsure of why losing was that big of a deal.
¡°No, but Abyss help me. She stop fight,¡± Fathom said, as if admitting some great sin. ¡°Mates fight together, this is normal, but if a dragon need help then this is very bad. I fail my¡¡¯responsibility¡¯.¡±
They both sat in silence for several moments, Fathom sulking and Pryce unsure of what to say.
¡°But you tried your best, right?¡± Pryce asked into the silence.
Fathom flattened his spines. ¡°No, if I tried my best then I not fly in storm, break wing.¡±
¡°You made a mistake, all people do that,¡± Pryce tried, but the dragon only looked down and did not meet his gaze.
¡°Abyss die.¡±
¡°¡how did she die?¡± Pryce asked gently. He wasn¡¯t shocked; he had only seen one sleeping space, so he knew Abyss had to have either died or left, but he had hoped it was the latter.
¡°When Abyss stop fight, she get small wound. I had more wounds, bigger wounds, but¡she get sick. She die thirty-eight days after she stop fight.¡±
Pryce grimaced in sympathy. Of course, dragons weren¡¯t immune to infection, but they seemed so full of vitality that it was difficult to visualize a dragon brought low by disease.
¡°That was probably infection,¡± He said, pausing as he wondered if he should tell Fathom that was what antibiotics cured.
¡°It is very very bad for infection to kill dragon. Dragons die in big fights, or storms, or when hunting dangerous animals, but infection is¡not good death,¡± Fathom finished awkwardly, but Pryce understood the gist of it; dragons were supposed to die with ¡®honor¡¯, and not on their metaphorical sickbed. ¡°You¡can heal infection?¡± Fathom asked, his voice oddly monotone.
¡°Most infections¡yes,¡± Pryce said carefully. ¡°That is what antibiotic do. This is why I make antibiotic.¡±
¡°¡I understand,¡± Fathom said, bobbing his head solemnly. ¡°After Abyss die, my territory too big for one dragon and hatchling. Other dragons fight me, my territory become smaller.¡± He hung his head in shame, and said, ¡°I tell Celeste to leave when she was 6 years old, I can not protect her. After this, I leave my home, fly here, make new home.¡± His turned his head to look at the wall behind him, and Pryce had to move to see the much smaller scales embedded into the wall there.
¡°Where¡is Celeste now?¡± Pryce asked cautiously.
Fathom shifted his wings sluggishly, glancing at another piece of eggshell on the back wall of the cave. ¡°I hear where her territory is, but she is 20 years old, does not need me now.¡±
¡°Maybe you should try to talk to her someday,¡± Pryce said. ¡°Some human children do not talk to their parents, but years later they wish they did. Wish is a little like want.¡±
¡°Humans are not dragons,¡± Fathom said skeptically, and Pryce could only shrug; he wasn¡¯t the expert on draconic culture here.
¡°Still, we are not very different. You should try talking to her later,¡± Pryce encouraged.
Fathom rumbled as he considered this, though he did not respond.
¡°And here are my things,¡± Pryce said, glancing at the mirror, coins, and other trinkets he had given Fathom. Even a pig skull was there, its flesh meticulously cleaned off from the bone. These objects were placed on a piece of wood and had not been placed with as much care as the others, probably because Fathom had not had the time to do so. ¡°You have wall here for more things in the future?¡± Pryce asked, pointing at the empty span of wall from 9 to 12 o¡¯clock.
Fathom made an inconclusive noise, then said, ¡°Some parts of wall is for more things, small part is¡I do not know how to say this,¡± the dragon grumbled in frustration.
¡°When something does not having something in or on it, it is called ¡®empty¡¯. Do dragons keep small part of wall empty because they wish to get more things? Or because dragons wish to live more years?¡± Pryce asked, suspecting it was something like a superstition.
¡°¡that is close,¡± Fathom said, tilting his head back and forth.
The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.
¡°Well, that¡¯s interesting. What¡¯s your favorite treasure here? The thing you like most?¡± Pryce asked, thinking it would be his eggshell, or the ammonite, or his daughter¡¯s eggshell.
Fathom¡¯s spines flattened slightly, and his eyes darted around the room. ¡°Things are all different, but I like these most,¡± he rumbled, gesturing to the ammonite, eggshell, and Pryce¡¯s own gifts.
¡°Makes sense,¡± Pryce nodded in understanding. ¡°I guess you don¡¯t show other dragons your shiny things?¡±
¡°No,¡± Fathom snorted emphatically. ¡°This is a secret.¡±
¡°Then, thank you for showing it to me.¡±
Fathom shrugged. ¡°This is a secret because other dragons will take things. You are too small to take much, and you cannot run away,¡± he said pragmatically.
¡°True,¡± Pryce chuckled.
Pryce spent the rest of the day referencing the books he brought as he looked over Fathom¡¯s shiny things. A few sizable crystals were actually sapphire or topaz, and he had even found a diamond, though most of these crystals were common minerals like quartz and amethyst.
The sand-glass Fathom mentioned was¡somewhat underwhelming. Pryce knew it wouldn¡¯t be pretty, but for some reason he expected more than shiny globs of dirt-colored glass. At least some were shaped into interesting shapes before they had cooled, one in particular looked like it was modeled after a whirlpool or a vortex.
Still, he took many pictures of many things, eagerly cataloging what he could as Fathom watched and listened with interest to his opinions. Pryce masked a little of his disappointment over the sand-glass with enthusiasm over the things Fathom had built, such as the shelves and the wooden shutters he used to cover up holes in the cave walls. This was made from a rather painstaking process of splitting dead trees or unhealthy trees along the fibers, then carving them into the desired shape with their claws. Fathom even used tree-sap as a sort of glue, which was evidently quite effective at holding wood together.
The dragon did caution Pryce to be careful with the glued-wood though, so it did not seem to be very strong ¨C at least by draconic standards.
Pryce had expected dragons to require a great amount of food, but Fathom left to hunt for food two more times that day, despite having eaten an entire pig that morning.
Pryce didn¡¯t feel any ill effects from the tiny piece of leaf he had eaten earlier, so he ate a mouthful at sunset. Most poisons took effect in a few hours or days, so if these leaves didn¡¯t make him sick in that timespan, then it was probably alright to eat¡unless it was a slow-acting poison, but he tried to not think about that.
¡°Celebrate is what people do when something good happens,¡± Pryce said later that night. ¡°Celebrating means having fun with other people, eating food, and sometimes drinking alcohol together. Do dragons celebrate anything?¡±
¡°What is ¡®fun¡¯?¡± Fathom asked, confused at this new word.
¡°Oh, right, fun is¡when you do things you want, like flying, or winning fights, or getting shiny things,¡± Pryce said, guessing that these things were probably what the dragon considered to be fun.
¡°I understand,¡± Fathom said. ¡°What do humans do when ¡®having fun¡¯?¡±
¡°¡depends on the humans,¡± Pryce said, realizing that perhaps he was not the best person to ask about ¡®having fun¡¯. He had something of a reputation for being known as a workaholic, even among his peers. ¡°Many humans like to drink, or to¡play games.¡± Before Fathom opened his mouth to ask, Pryce answered, ¡°Games are like¡competitions, and competitions are like fights, but people don¡¯t get hurt. Like if two dragons fly to see who is faster, then that is a competition. Games and competitions are things where you try to do something.¡±
Fathom perked up his spines curiously at this. ¡°What games do humans play?¡±
¡°There are¡a lot of different games,¡± Pryce said. ¡°I¡¯ll tell you about them later. Do dragons have any celebrations?¡±
Fathom hummed in thought before answering, ¡°Dragons celebrate longest day in a year.¡±
¡°Humans celebrate this too; it¡¯s called the summer solstice,¡± Pryce said, smiling at this similarity. ¡°And the shortest day in a year is called a winter solstice. Humans celebrate something called ¡®birthdays¡¯ too, for dragons, this is the day you are hatched in a year.¡±
¡°Day you hatch on is birthday? These words are not like each other.¡± Fathom chuffed in disdain as he assumed this was another oddity of English.
¡°Well, humans are born, not hatched,¡± Pryce said. He had used ¡®hatched¡¯ when referring to human births because it was easier to use one word to refer to the same general process, but now he had the words to correct that simplification.
¡°What?¡± Fathom asked, tilting his head in confusion. ¡°How are you not hatched? What is ¡®born¡¯?¡±
¡°Well¡human hatchlings are called ¡®babies¡¯, and babies come out of the mother without an eggshell.¡±
¡°Without¡eggshell?¡± Fathom¡¯s spines twitched in confusion; he was clearly having difficulty imagining this.
¡°Yes,¡± Pryce said, unable and reluctant to describe in further detail.
¡°Humans are very strange, and dragons do not celebrate ¡®birthday¡¯¡is dragon birthday ¡®hatchday¡¯?¡± He asked before shaking his head in dismissal. ¡°Dragons do not celebrate this, not important. Why do humans celebrate things like birthdays? Birthday is not like a fight you ¡®win¡¯.¡±
Pryce understood Fathom¡¯s perspective to some extent, as there was a time when Pryce had felt birthdays to be a pointless exercise, but he also could not deny it was fulfilling if one had genuine friends to celebrate with.
¡°A tradition is something many people do for a very long time. Celebrations can be a part of tradition, and birthdays are a very old tradition. Humans in the past died much more often, so maybe each year we live is a ¡®win¡¯,¡± Pryce guessed. ¡°But I do not know, maybe it is different. Why do dragons celebrate the summer solstice?¡± He asked, seeing as Fathom was not convinced by this explanation.
¡°Dragons see who die, then we have competitions and fights to see who is best, and best will have egg.¡±
¡°Okay, this makes sense¡¡± Pryce said, but some things still confused him. ¡°Do all dragons want eggs?¡±
¡°Very many dragons want eggs, why?¡±
¡°So why don¡¯t dragons kill other dragons to be able to lay more eggs?¡± This was of course reprehensible by human standards, but the truth was that things like infanticide or filicide were not uncommon in the wilderness; all that nature cared about was the ability to pass on one¡¯s genes.
Fathom shook his head ¨C a bit of body language he had picked up from Pryce, though it looked strange on the dragon¡¯s comparatively much longer neck. ¡°This is complicated, dragons are hard to kill. One dragon can kill second dragon, but second dragon can kill one dragon too. There are other things too; dragons talk before fights about what dragons can or can not do.¡±
¡°What¡happens if a dragon does what he says he will not do?¡± Pryce asked warily.
¡°This is¡complicated,¡± Fathom shrugged ominously. ¡°Do humans celebrate other things?¡±
¡°Yes, we celebrate important days. Big groups of humans live in cities, lots of cities make a country. Different people in different cities celebrate different things, but some things like summer and winter solstices are celebrated.¡±
¡°Why do humans celebrate shortest day of year?¡± Fathom asked, confused by this odd behavior.
¡°Humans celebrate shortest day of the year because very long time ago, humans think short days mean sun is going away, so humans celebrate to make sun come back,¡± Pryce explained.
¡°¡This does not make sense.¡±
¡°Yeah, lots of things that humans do make no sense,¡± Pryce agreed.
¡°What is the difference between game and competition?¡± Fathom asked after a few moments of silence.
¡°Well, when someone uses a game, it¡¯s called ¡®playing¡¯ a game. A game can be played by one person, but usually needs two or more people. Competitions all need at least two people.¡±
¡°How you play a game with one person?¡± Fathom asked, blinking in thought.
¡°Well¡things you can or can¡¯t do are ¡®rules¡¯, and all games have rules. Games can also be anything, games can be like this,¡± Pryce said, picking up a few rocks. ¡°The rules are to hit that big rock with these small rocks without moving from this spot,¡± he said, throwing a rock at the boulder some distance away. He missed twice before a clear crack sounded through the mountainside.
Fathom wordlessly picked up a few pebbles ¨C which were rocks about the size of Pryce¡¯s fist ¨C and threw one, missing wildly.
Ten rocks later, he was almost growling in frustration.
¡°¡I thought you said dragons use rocks to hunt?¡±
¡°We throw rocks in the air with our feet, not arms!¡± Fathom growled as another rock missed. ¡°This game is stupid!¡±
¡°We can play another game-¡± Pryce tried to suggest.
¡°No!¡± The dragon hissed, whipping the last rock in his immediate vicinity at the boulder, which struck the tip of the boulder before careening off down the mountainside.
¡°Good!¡± Fathom cheered, bordering on a roar.
¡°Usually humans say ¡®yes¡¯ when they win,¡± Pryce suggested, lips quivering as he fought back a smile. ¡°Do you want to try a different game? You don¡¯t need to throw rocks for this one,¡± he added.
It took a few minutes thanks to Fathom¡¯s enthusiastic pitching of the surrounding rocks, but Pryce gathered a few fist-sized ones along with a few pebbles. Next, he got Fathom to scratch a 3x3 grid into the rocky ground and explained the rules of tic-tac-toe.
¡°What is the meaning of the name tic-tac-toe?¡± Fathom asked.
¡°I¡don¡¯t know, actually,¡± Pryce said, realizing he had never thought about it.
¡°How do you not know the meaning of your own words?¡±
¡°It¡¯s an old game, now are you going to play or no?¡± He asked impatiently.
Fathom grumbled and placed a large rock in the center grid.
Pryce followed suit, and they quickly reached a draw.
¡°¡Who win?¡± Fathom asked uncertainly.
¡°No one win, this is a tie.¡± Pryce said.
¡°This game is not good, person who go first win or tie, person who go second lose or tie.¡±
¡°You learned that fast,¡± Pryce said, impressed. ¡°This is a very simple type of tic-tac-toe, we can try 4x4 now.¡±
Fathom rumbled skeptically.
¡°I won,¡± Pryce said as Fathom stared at the grid, frozen in indecision. ¡°Anything you do, I can win.¡±
¡°¡again,¡± Fathom grumbled.
¡°Okay,¡± Pryce shrugged.
Several losses later, and Fathom was picking up on the strategy. Several more after that, and he tied Pryce more often than not. Many games later, he finally won, resulting in much celebration.
Then they moved onto a 5x5 grid, where Fathom repeated this pattern of rapid improvement.
¡°One last game,¡± Pryce said, clearing away his pebbles.
¡°¡Yes,¡± Fathom said after some thought. ¡°What do you want to¡trade?¡±
¡°Trade?¡± Pryce asked, looking at the board and back up at the dragon. ¡°Oh, you mean loser gives the winner something? That is a bet. What will you bet?¡±
Fathom hummed in thought, then asked, ¡°What do you want?¡±
Pryce¡wasn¡¯t sure what he wanted from the dragon. All his shiny things ¨C even the precious jewels ¨C were really just trinkets with no applicable purpose.
¡°How about you give me¡a new animal I have not seen yet?¡± Pryce asked. ¡°It must be old or injured, no killing healthy animals.¡±
¡°This is good, I want¡your chronometer.¡±
¡°No.¡± Pryce said firmly and without room for argument.
¡°Then I give¡ten new animals?¡± Fathom asked.
¡°I¡¯m not giving this away for anything,¡± Pryce said tightly, enunciating each word clearly.
¡°Why?¡± Fathom asked, confused but not at all frustrated.
¡°Ask for something else.¡±
¡°¡if you win, I give you new animal, but I can eat afterwards, if I win, you give me chronometer and teach me how to read it, then after one minute I give it back to you,¡± Fathom offered.
¡°¡You promise you will not hurt chronometer?¡± Pryce asked.
¡°I promise.¡±
¡°¡Okay,¡± Pryce sighed.
¡°Son of a bitch,¡± Pryce breathed, then glared at Fathom. ¡°You were pretending to be bad?¡±
¡°I do not know what ¡®bitch¡¯ and ¡®pretending¡¯ means,¡± Fathom said innocently.
¡°Pretending means to be like something else that you are not.¡±
¡°You do not explain what ¡®bitch¡¯ means?¡±
¡°Nope,¡± Pryce said, pulling the chronometer out of his zipper pocket. He opened it so that Fathom could see its face, and the curious dragon peered over his shoulder as he pointed at the arms and explained what they meant. ¡°These small sticks are called arms. This arm is for hours; this arm is for minutes, and this arm is for seconds. If arm is between two numbers, read smaller number,¡± he grumbled. ¡°Be careful, it is fragile.¡±
¡°Yes, I promise I be careful,¡± Fathom said, extending his arm so that Pryce could reluctantly set the precious device onto the palm of his foreclaws. He flared his wings and tilted his head to listen intently to the rhythmic, cyclical ticking of the chronometer. ¡°This is like a living thing, like heartbeat,¡± Fathom said in tones of wonder.
¡°Yes, it is an amazing device,¡± Pryce said. It was true that other modern machines were far more complex, advanced, or visually impressive, the chronometer had an elegant simplicity to it ¨C at least in his admittedly biased opinion. It produced no waste and required no fuel except the potential energy stored within the brass winding.
¡°Now time is¡eight hours, twenty-one minutes, fifteen seconds?¡±
¡°Yes, and it has been around a minute now,¡± Pryce said, making a beckoning motion.
¡°No, it has been 4 beats, 48 seconds,¡± Fathom said, jerking his foreclaw away possessively and causing the chronometer to slide off his smooth scales. Before Pryce could shout, Fathom snatched up the falling Chronometer out of the air with his other claw.
But he was not used to catching such small and smooth objects, and the chronometer snapped shut as it bounced off his palm and past his gap in his talons. From Pryce¡¯s perspective, it seemed to fly through the air in slow motion until it hit the ground, where it began to roll along its rim down the bumpy mountainside, picking up speed with each passing second.
Pryce had started to move forward the moment the chronometer fell, but Fathom bounded forward the moment the chronometer escaped his claws to chase after it.
None of it mattered, the chronometer bounced down the mountain faster than Fathom could descend, regardless of how he ignored the sharp rocks that dug themselves into his scales with each leap down.
Whether it lasted ten seconds or a hundred, Pryce did not know. He could only stand and watch as the mechanical marvel bounced one final time before it smashed into the side of a boulder with a sickening crack.
When Fathom wretchedly offered the retrieved chronometer to Pryce, his head and spines were flattened in shame, though Pryce did not see this. The once-pristine casing was scratched and dented beyond belief, and when he brought the device up to his ear, there was only silence.
¡°¡I can not catch-¡± Fathom began.
¡°Stop.¡± Pryce said, his voice completely devoid of emotion. ¡°It¡¯s late. Please take me back to the ship.¡±
Fathom bowed his head, and the trip back was stilted and awkward. Pryce did not say a single word in the air, and the dragon kept his eyes on the skies to avoid looking at the human¡¯s face.
Pryce stumbled onto the deck when Fathom gently set down both him and his bags with extreme care. He only stiffly turned to say, ¡°Thank you. Goodnight.¡±
Fathom did not know what to say, and Pryce did not seem to be expecting an answer. The human soon retired into the depths of the ship, and Fathom could see him tightly clutching the piece of broken metal and glass.
Chapter 22, Day 41, Part 1: Olive Branch
Fathom laid on his bed of furs and soft things, spines flattened as he wondered what to do.
He had very clearly broken his promise.
It wasn¡¯t important that he¡¯d done it unintentionally, he¡¯d broken the chronometer which was clearly more valuable to Pryce than any of the other beautiful things he¡¯d given him; this was the only one that moved on its own, as if it were alive.
But Fathom was confused by Pryce¡¯s stilted behavior; he had expected him to be furious, but there was no elevated heartbeat, no slight reddening of the color of their skin, no smell of that ¡®sweat¡¯ which humans seemed to produce when they experience physical exertion or emotional stress.
Instead, the human had acted like a hollow shell in comparison to his usual self. It was almost like the human did not care, but he was clearly distressed; why else would he ask to go back so suddenly?
He stood up and padded outside to take to the skies; a broken promise must be rectified.
Fathom landed on the deck of the ship cautiously; it was the first time he had done so without Pryce to greet him. The circumstances made him feel like he was intruding, but he shook the feeling off as he waited. It took a few minutes, but Fathom could hear him moving around the ship, so he knew that Pryce was on his way.
The human in question¡did not look good, even in Fathom¡¯s limited experience. The skin under his eyes was darker, his eyelids drooped, and his shoulders were hunched instead of straight-backed, but perhaps the most important difference was how he dragged his feet as if he were half-asleep.
¡°Good morning,¡± he said.
Fathom withheld a response about how it did not seem like a ¡®good¡¯ morning, instead with a great effort he opened the bag to pull out Pryce¡¯s gifts.
¡°I don¡¯t want these,¡± Pryce said, shaking his head.
Fathom ignored him and set the mirror, coins, bottle, and marble onto the deck of the ship despite how it pained him to do so, then he handed what was left in the bag to Pryce, which he reluctantly accepted to look inside.
¡°I don¡¯t want this either,¡± Pryce said, setting the gift back on the deck and pushing it towards Fathom with his foot.
¡°But¡why?¡± Fathom had expected this response to some degree, but he simply could not understand how anyone could refuse things that were once theirs, yet alone the rare and beautiful things he had put into the bag.
¡°I don¡¯t need them,¡± Pryce said simply, giving a tired shrug. ¡°If this is about yesterday, don¡¯t worry about it ¨C what I meant was; you don¡¯t need to give things back to me, you don¡¯t need to do things because you break chronometer.¡±
¡°But I promise you that I be careful, and I was not careful. When dragon break promise, they must do¡this,¡± Fathom said, gesturing at the items on the deck.
Pryce paused, then said, ¡°Alright, I¡¯ll take it back.¡±
Fathom felt almost as distressed as he was relieved to be losing the treasures, though he-
¡°And now I give them back to you,¡± Pryce said.
¡°You¡can¡¯t do that?¡± Fathom said, though he was so bewildered that it sounded more like a question.
¡°Why not? I told you, I have no use for these things.¡±
¡°I..¡± Fathom trailed off, unsure of what to say.
¡°Let¡¯s do something else today, maybe you can teach me more about the animals here?¡±
¡°¡yes,¡± Fathom said reluctantly, unwilling to argue. It was strange, Pryce had said not to worry about it, which based on the context of the other things he said had meant he considered the broken promise forgiven, and he was free to take the treasures back¡so why did he feel so discontented?
Fathom told Pryce about the animals he had talked about earlier in greater detail, as well as other new species that were lesser threats but still dangerous to a human. Normally their conversation flowed easily, but today Pryce was so stiff and wooden that Fathom had to put in a great effort to carry out the discussion.
¡°Sometimes big fish live in river, but¡I do not know if they eat things like humans¡¡± Fathom said uncertainly.
¡°Okay,¡± Pryce said, taking notes.
¡°Animals that look like crocodiles also live in water, sometimes live on ground near water.¡±
¡°Okay.¡±
¡°¡These animals that look like crocodiles look slow, but they are faster than humans.¡±
¡°Okay.¡±
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
¡°¡Why are you not mad?¡± Fathom asked, unable to bear the stilted conversation any longer.
¡°What?¡± Pryce asked, looking up at this non-sequitur.
¡°I break your things, you are not mad, you are not sad, you are¡like this?¡± Fathom said, gesturing at Pryce. ¡°Why?¡±
Pryce shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s my mistake anyway, if I did not want you to break it, I should not have given it to you. I knew you do not know how smooth metals are, so it is not your mistake, it is mine-¡±
¡°No, this is stupid!¡± Fathom hissed.
Pryce blinked, a little alarmed by the hostile display. ¡°Er¡what?¡±
¡°People get sick and die, you say is your mistake, crew get sick and die, you say is your mistake, I break chronometer, break promise, you say is your mistake! You make no sense!¡± Fathom ranted, causing Pryce to take an involuntary step back. The dragon calmed after finishing this short tirade, then said tiredly, ¡°I¡I do not understand¡¡±
They were both silent afterwards for some time.
¡°I¡guess I¡¯m just used to being responsible for everything,¡± Pryce admitted. ¡°On the mainland, I do many things to learn about antibiotics, many people do work for me, many people do things I say, so if something goes wrong, then that is because I made mistake.¡±
¡°¡I do not understand this, but it¡makes sense,¡± Fathom said slowly. ¡°¡this still does not explain why chronometer is important to you. I know Chronometer is important to you, it measure time, but¡I do not understand, Chronometer can¡¯t measure time now, why do you have it?¡± Fathom asked, pointing at the pocket that held the broken device.
¡°I¡it¡¯s important to me,¡± Pryce said, his voice trembling an imperceptible amount.
¡°Why?¡± Fathom pressed.
Pryce sighed, and closed his eyes. ¡°My friend, Max Wright made it and gave it to me. That¡¯s why it has the words ¡®Wright Chronometer¡¯ on it.¡±
Fathom had thought Pryce said that it was the ¡®Right Chronometer¡¯, so only now did the full realization of what he had done weigh upon him. Dragons did not quite have the same concept of friendship as humans, but Fathom still knew Wright was someone very important to Pryce, and someone who had made something as amazing as the chronometer and given it to Pryce.
Someone whom Pryce had failed to protect.
Someone with whom Pryce had broken a promise.
¡°Come with me,¡± Fathom said, picking up Pryce¡¯s bags ¨C which still laid on the deck where he had left them yesterday ¨C and Pryce himself in his other foreclaw.
¡°What are you-¡± Pryce¡¯s protests were cut off by Fathom¡¯s powerful leap into the sky.
¡°Euugh,¡± Pryce said, kneeling on all fours as he suppressed the urge to vomit. Fathom had flown much faster than he had yesterday, though Pryce suspected he was still restraining himself for Pryce¡¯s sake.
¡°Wait here,¡± Fathom said, marching into his home.
This request was somewhat pointless as Pryce could not have moved much even if he wanted to. After a few minutes his breath steadied and his nausea faded, enabling him to stand up. What was it that he said which seemed to upset Fathom so much? That Wright made the chronometer? But he already told Fathom ¨C
He smacked his face in realization; of course, it was a homonym. Fathom probably thought it was ¡®right¡¯ because it could rightly tell time or something, or he could have just assumed it was a strange human name. Pryce stood waiting for several minutes until Fathom returned, carrying something in his left foreclaw as he hobbled forward on three limbs.
The dragon set down something on the ground, then pulled his arm away to reveal the iridescent ammonite.
¡°This is¡the ammonite Abyss gave you,¡± Pryce said breathlessly.
¡°Yes,¡± Fathom said, bowing his head. ¡°I break your most important thing, so I give you my most important thing.¡±
¡°It wasn¡¯t my most important thing,¡± Pryce dissuaded, not wanting to accept such an important gift.
¡°Then give me chronometer,¡± Fathom demanded.
¡°W-What? No!¡± Pryce said, the refusal coming out before he could think.
¡°Chronometer is broken, but you keep chronometer because it is important to you,¡± Fathom said, completely outmaneuvering Pryce. ¡°Do not tell me lies. If this is not your most important thing, what is?¡±
When Pryce could say nothing, Fathom bowed his head deeply, and said solemnly, ¡°I am apologize.¡±
The silence lasted for a few moments until Pryce chuckled, causing Fathom to whip his head up in surprise and confusion.
¡°It¡¯s ¡®I apologize¡¯, or ¡®I am sorry¡¯,¡± Pryce explained.
Fathom huffed, hiding his relief behind exasperation. ¡°Human language is so complicated.¡±
¡°I¡¯m still not going to take it,¡± Pryce said, a few minutes later.
¡°What? Why?¡± Fathom demanded; He thought they had just resolved this issue.
¡°I have no use for it. I might want to study it later, but not now, and it¡¯s important to you,¡± Pryce said.
¡°But-¡±
¡°Don¡¯t worry, I forgive you. It really was an accident, and to tell the truth; maybe the chronometer was too much of a reminder for me. You are right, I should move on, at least a little.¡± Pryce looked at the scratched and dented device for a few seconds, then darted his gaze between chronometer and dragon a few times.
¡°What?¡± Fathom said, peering at the chronometer to see what Pryce was looking at.
¡°Nothing¡± Pryce said.
¡°These words are different from other side,¡± Fathom noted, ¡°What is the meaning of these words?¡±
¡°This is what Max wrote, it says ¡®For A. Pry ¨C That sonuvabitch!¡± Pryce abruptly swore as he realized something.
¡°You say ¡®son of a bitch¡¯ again, what is a ¡®bitch¡¯?¡± Fathom asked, a little irked by Pryce¡¯s evasion.
¡°It¡¯s¡like an insult, but you say it when you are mad or annoyed,¡± Pryce explained with a huff.
Fathom rumbled; this explanation didn¡¯t explain much at all.
¡°Max loved to make puns, puns are when you say words that have more than one meaning, or say something funny with words, like when you said, ¡®Wright was right¡¯,¡± Pryce explained when Fathom had asked him to elaborate. ¡°Humans have something called ¡®money¡¯ that we use to trade to each other. You can use money to trade for anything like shiny things or food, how much money you need to buy something is a ¡®price¡¯, which sounds like my name. I didn¡¯t want him to give this to me for no price, so he made a pun by giving this to me ¡®For A. Pryce¡¯,¡± Pryce groused. ¡°And no, my name is not that price, it¡¯s a different word.¡±
¡°So confusing,¡± Fathom mumbled. ¡°You mad, but you are smiling?¡±
Pryce realized he was, and immediately wiped it off his face. ¡°It¡reminded me of him. He made me angry, but¡he has not made me angry in a long time, so that makes me happy.¡±
¡°¡I think I understand,¡± Fathom said solemnly. ¡°What the meaning of your name?¡±
¡°I¡don¡¯t know.¡±
¡°How do you not know meaning of your name?¡±
¡°It¡¯s an old name and my family name, lots of people don¡¯t know meanings of their names,¡± Pryce said dismissively. ¡°I can¡¯t get over how that asshole held onto this pun for decades, and I never noticed it because I never read them out loud.¡±
¡°Get over what? Asshole? Decades?¡± Fathom asked, confused by the barrage of new words.
¡°Oh, sorry. I mean it annoys me a lot, and a decade is 10 years, and an asshole is another insult.¡±
¡°You still not tell me the meaning of insults.¡±
Pryce sighed and opened his mouth, but before he uttered a single word Fathom snapped his head up in the direction of a great roar.
Chapter 23, Day 41, Part 2: Tooth, Claw, and Nail
¡°Who is that?¡± Pryce demanded as Fathom placed the ammonite back into the hidden room.
¡°He kill Abyss with infection,¡± Fathom hissed, a piercing sound that alarmed Pryce on an instinctive level even if he knew the malice was not directed at him.
¡°Why is he here?¡± Pryce asked, trying to make sense of the situation. Why would this dragon show up now, so many years after the death of Abyss?
¡°He comes here to fight, but only agree to fight if we do not kill each other, he is like a raptor!¡± The dragon spat venomously.
Something about that felt wrong, but Pryce couldn¡¯t put his finger on what exactly made him feel uneasy ¨C perhaps it was just the adrenaline flowing in his veins.
¡°Alright, so what are we going to do?¡± Pryce asked, glancing at the rifle strapped onto the bags.
¡°We?¡± Fathom asked, looking at him incredulously. ¡°You can not fight him.¡±
¡°I¡¡± Pryce faltered, realizing that was true. According to Fathom, fights were rarely fatal, but that was hardly reassuring. ¡°What if he tries to kill you?¡±
¡°He cannot,¡± Fathom snorted. ¡°If we death-fight, other dragons must come watch us fight, see if one dragon no want to death-fight.¡±
So, death-battles required two dragons to observe the duel. ¡°Okay, other dragons are witnesses, but what if a dragon kills another dragon without witnesses to watch?¡±
Fathom flicked his spines in irritation, glancing outside as another roar pierced the skies ¨C closer this time.
¡°I explain later,¡± Fathom said dismissively as he moved to leave.
¡°Wait,¡± Pryce said, halting as he realized he had no excuses to make. ¡°Take off the chain, it¡¯ll slow you down,¡± he finished lamely.
Fathom looked down at the chain as if he forgot he had been wearing it, and reluctantly took it off.
¡°Good, now be careful¡and don¡¯t die,¡± Pryce cautioned.
¡°I will come back,¡± Fathom reassured, stepping outside to take flight.
The roar of a challenge rang through the air as Fathom vaulted up the mountainside. It was a roar that signified the intent for a no-stakes duel, just like every other fight they had before. The wretched coward had never once challenged him in a death-battle, and the fact that he was a wanderer with no territory of his own made it impossible for Fathom to find and challenge him.
He reached his destination in short order ¨C a cliff that he knew had the strongest updraft within his territory. Fathom¡¯s great wings snapped to their fullest extent as they caught the thermals, and he spiraled upwards to face the red dragon and to roar his acceptance of the duel.
Ighnahr renewed his own challenging cry as he whirled around to face Fathom. It only took several beats for the two dragons to close the gap between them and to begin circling the other at a distance customary prior to an engagement.
Fathom roared at his foe. ?It seems you have learned nothing from our last fight!? His spines flared out with the provocation, battle-fever coursing through his veins.
?Why are you alive?!? Ighnahr spat furiously, completely ignoring Fathom¡¯s taunt.
?Of course I am still alive,? Fathom scoffed. ?If you wanted to kill me then you should have challenged me to a proper death-battle. Did you really think a few scratches would kill me??
?It was enough-? Ighnahr abruptly cut himself off with a quick flick of his spines. ?Enough talk!? He roared as if he had not paused, and flung himself into a climb.
Pryce ran through what preparations he could after Fathom¡¯s departure, which included performing maintenance on the rifle and confirming that his shoulder wound no longer limited his range of motion.
He wanted badly to watch the duel with his binoculars, but what if the other dragon saw him? Would he attack? Pryce knew it wasn¡¯t worth the risk when he couldn¡¯t do anything to help, but he couldn¡¯t resist peering outside the moment twin roars echoed throughout the mountain range.
It was harder than he expected to find the dragons in the open sky, but soon enough he located two shapes, each one attempting to climb above the other. Even with his binoculars he couldn¡¯t see any details on the other dragon at this distance, save for his rust-red hide. Fathom must have drawn him away so that he would be less likely to notice Pryce, or The Horizon ¨C if he hadn¡¯t already.
With nothing else coming to mind, Pryce mentally dubbed the red dragon ¡®Pathogen¡¯ since the dragon had given Abyss a fatal infection. He raptly watched as the dragons kept ascending, occasionally coming close enough to clash, but they just as quickly disengaged to try and gain a better advantage. He wasn¡¯t sure how much time had elapsed since the start of the duel, but it lasted long enough that the adrenaline began to ebb from his system, replacing his vigilance with gnawing anxiety.
Then he blinked, and a stream of fire shot out from one of the indistinct shapes, and the other dove to evade while retaliating with his own flame. Wait, he saw fire. This wasn¡¯t a hydrogen flame, this was something else entirely. Countless questions whirled in his mind, but any excitement he felt was stifled by dread as the dots suddenly clashed and did not part ¨C instead they plummeted through the skies together.
The two dragons bit and tore with equal ferocity as the wind roared past their ears, neither willing to be the first to break free from the melee. They continued to fall until a beat before impact ¨C then almost as if rehearsed they kicked off of the other, tearing gouges into the belly of their foe as they did so.
Fathom had gained a better position a split second before they parted, and this allowed him to kick Ighnahr downwards, slowing his descent and speeding up his foe¡¯s. They both flared out their wings the instant they were able, and what advantage Fathom had gained was lost as he struggled with his crooked left wing.
In the end they ended up at nearly the same altitude, both dragons beating laboriously as they fought past the sting of their respective wounds.
Fathom clenched his teeth and threw himself back into the climb.
Pryce tore his eyes away from the duel once he saw Fathom ascend, and focused on what he could do to prepare.
Fathom had brought his bags along with him this morning, which was good; he had the foresight to store some medical supplies and equipment within them yesterday ¨C enough to treat a dozen humans, but a pitiful amount when he considered the fact that he had to treat a dragon. Pryce had brought some bandages and gauze from the ship as he would only ever need a fraction of it, but he cursed himself for not bringing more.
He checked the skies every few minutes as he worked, but the dragons were lost in the vast expanse of the sky and were impossible to relocate. He quickly gave up and focused on an even bigger problem than the lack of medical supplies; a lack of clean water. Pryce searched the caves and found a moderately sized tree trunk that had been hollowed along the length and filled with water; a trough.
The water within the trough was clear enough, though there was no chance of it being clean enough for medical purposes.
Fortunately, he¡¯d brought with him a general-purpose survival kit from the ship, which included a small bottle of concentrated bleach. While known as a cleaning product, a single drop of bleach could disinfect one liter of water
[1], making it drinkable. Pryce approximated the volume of the water in the trough and added the appropriate amount of bleach, then mixed it with a relatively clean stick as he chastised himself for not doing this earlier; the bleach-water mixture needed to sit for half an hour before it could completely disinfect the water.
Pryce lamented the loss of the chronometer¡¯s functionality as he realized that there was no way to tell when half an hour had passed. He shook his head; it was pointless to dwell on a problem that he could do nothing to solve. The only thing he could do was to count the seconds until the dragon¡¯s return.
They clashed several times more afterwards, though none were as violent as the first. It didn¡¯t take long for the both of them to tire given how combat was far more taxing than normal flight. Knowing their opponent was nearly exhausted, they slammed into each other one final time.
Fathom gained the upper hand, driving his talons and teeth into Ighnahr¡¯s chest while his foe flailed and scrabbled at his belly in turn, dealing far less shallow wounds.
Suddenly the red dragon stopped scratching, and instead Ighnahr pulled himself closer to Fathom, almost embracing him as he reached forth and began to tear at his wings.
Fathom kicked Ighnahr away in a panic, fortunately before too much damage had been done, but the ground was coming up to meet them, and the two wounded dragons did their best to halt their fall.
Despite the many wounds he bore, Ighnahr¡¯s relatively unharmed wings managed to slow his descent enough for a rough landing that exacerbated his wounds, but did not inflict any life-threatening injuries.
Fathom, with his fresh wounds further impeding his flight, began to spiral.
He knew he could not arrest his fall in time, and in the split second before impact he managed to twist in the air, sparing his right wing from the brunt of the impact and sacrificing his left.
Then he pulled his limbs in tight, and braced for impact.
His wing-bone, weakened by its unnatural shape, snapped at the malunion as the bulk of his body flattened the limb against the ground.
The collision drove the air from his lungs, and even after he slid to a halt Fathom could not breathe. He gaped for several seconds before gasping for breath, filling his lungs with precious air which he immediately expelled in a pained keen. Dull pain radiated from every part of his being while his gashes stung fiercely, though it was all overshadowed by the overwhelming pain of his broken bone.
He took a few seconds to pull himself together, then tried to push himself up. It took a few attempts, and his muscles strained, but he was able to stand.
Stolen story; please report.
Ighnahr was a short distance away, perhaps seventy of Pryce¡¯s meters, and he was already up; his stance low and ready even as blood flowed freely from his wounds.
Not freely enough to be fatal, but still dangerous, Fathom noted. If he ignored the condition of their wings then he was not quite as badly hurt as Ighnahr.
They could continue the fight on the ground, if they wished.
The two dragons glared at each other as they panted and wheezed, neither willing to be the one to suggest an end to their fight.
¡°Enough,? Fathom hissed through gritted teeth. ?Any more and you will die.?
?Your wing is broken¡again. And I am hurt,? Ighnahr wheezed, his pupils shifting as his limbs trembled. He did not say it, but he did not need to: they both understood that if he wanted to survive, Fathom¡¯s only choice was to continue the fight until one of them was dead.
?...This is not a duel, so I will not kill you now, even if I would very much like to,? Fathom said, though it came out as more of a wheeze.
?What?!? Ighnahr spat in surprise. ?But why? No one would care if¡? Ighnahr trailed off, and a flicker of uncertainty appeared in his expression before he scoffed disdainfully. ?Fine. If you are so eager to die, then so be it.? He began to limp backwards upon delivering these parting words, and turned around once it was clear Fathom was not going to attack him from behind.
Fathom had no answer to give, his own vision beginning to swim as the battle-fever faded, leaving him tired and aching. He took the first step home and keened as it pulled upon a gash in his foreclaw. Several attempts later, and he figured out how to limp without pulling on any wounds too badly. His wing ached fiercely no matter how still he kept it, so there was no helping that.
He looked to the mountain in the distance. If he could have flown, it would have taken perhaps 35 beats to get home, which translated to a distance of about two ¡®kilometers¡¯. Fathom sighed and gritted his teeth, bracing himself for the long journey ahead.
As he limped, he felt a small sense of relief that Ighnahr had not noticed Pryce or his ship. His thoughts drifted to the human, and he faintly wondered if Pryce could do anything to help him. It seemed unlikely, but for once he hoped that the strange little being would prove him wrong.
Counting had provided an unexpected benefit by distracting him; Pryce felt better by the time he¡¯d counted one hundred seconds, but this period of calm did not last long. By one thousand seconds he was taking deep, rhythmic breaths in an attempt to calm his steadily fraying nerves.
He¡¯d reached 1,612 seconds when he heard the scrabbling of talons against stone, and he cautiously rushed outside with rifle in tow.
The relief he felt at seeing Fathom¡¯s familiar blue hide was short lived; the dragon was badly marred in cuts and burns, and dark red blood oozed from a few of the deeper cuts. More concerning was that he had climbed instead of flown up the mountain, and that his left wing drooped far lower than his right.
¡°Are you okay?!¡± Pryce called out, dropping his rifle to rush outside.
¡°I am okay,¡± Fathom wheezed, belying his own words.
¡°Go to your home, sit down, I help you heal,¡± Pryce said, moving to help support the dragon¡¯s pained gait and immediately drawing away as he realized the impossibility of such a task. The blue dragon was taking short, pained gasps with each step, slowly making his way into the cave.
¡°What happened?¡± Pryce asked, sanitizing his hands with alcohol before drenching some of his spare clothes to be used as a rag. Somewhere at the back of his mind he wondered if this was a normal outcome for a fight between dragons, but he was too focused on providing first aid to worry about that now.
¡°I fight, we both wound the other,¡± Fathom hissed through clenched jaws. ¡°I hurt his body more, he hurt my wings more, we fall and end the fight.¡±
¡°You did not kill him?¡± Pryce asked, stepping back to try and see which wound required attention first.
¡°No, dragons can¡¯t kill other dragons without witnesses, I tell you this before,¡± Fathom rumbled snappishly. That was good, he couldn¡¯t be in debilitating pain if he still had the presence of mind for sass.
¡°Which wound is the worst?¡± Pryce asked, not able to determine how to triage his injuries without running laps around the dragon and asking him to roll over.
¡°This,¡± Fathom said, hissing in pain as he rolled onto his side to reveal a long gash along his torso that already left a sizable bloodstain on the ground.
¡°Shit,¡± Pryce swore. The wound was around three meters in length, and two shallow gashes ran alongside it; the scales were damaged, but they had done their job well as there was no blood that dripped from the lesser lacerations.
This injury did not seem to have reached any internal organs, and the lack of truly excessive blood loss likely meant none of the arteries had been cut either. ¡°This is going to hurt a little,¡± Pryce warned, grabbing the med kit¡¯s pouch of sterile water to splash onto the wound. The action drew a hiss from Fathom as he kicked in pain, fortunately not striking Pryce.
¡°What are you doing?¡± Fathom demanded, twitching in pain and agitation.
¡°I¡¯m cleaning the wound, and it¡¯s going to hurt more, so get ready,¡± Pryce snapped, refilling the water pouch with what was hopefully sterile water from the trough. The wound had picked up an unideal amount of dirt, to say the least, so it required several repetitions before he was satisfied enough to use the towel. Pryce had no idea what a dragon could recover from, but these injuries seemed quite alarming, so he was glad to see that the blood had already clotted more than he would have expected; Fathom would need all the natural robustness a dragon had in order to fully recover from this.
Fathom twitched and growled as Pryce worked, occasionally voicing a rhetorical complaint that went unanswered. Eventually the wound was as clean as it was going to get, and Pryce poured some alcohol solution onto a rag to disinfect the wound.
¡°This is going to hurt a lot, please don¡¯t move,¡± Pryce cautioned as he pulled on disposable rubber gloves from a sealed wax paper packet. He did have painkillers and local anesthetics aboard the ship, but those were for humans, and he had no idea what unintended effects they might have on a dragon. Unfortunately for the both of them, Fathom would have to endure it.
The dragon in question belted out a noise that was somewhere between a keen and a growl when Pryce sterilized the wounds, making him wince in sympathy.
¡°Why are you doing this? What is in that thing?¡± Fathom panted as Pryce pulled the rag away.
¡°This is just alcohol, alcohol kills bacteria,¡± Pryce explained.
¡°Alcohol kill bacteria but not kill me?¡±
¡°No, you drank alcohol, remember?¡± Pryce broke open the wax paper packet containing a length of surgical thread and a swaged needle. ¡°I¡¯m going to use this to make your wound close, it¡¯s going to hurt some, you should look away,¡± Pryce advised.
Of course, Fathom did the exact opposite of this, peering at his own side as Pryce began stitching his wound together.
¡°Why are you using small thing to hurt me?¡± Fathom asked in alarm, moving to pull away before pain from another wound caused him to flinch back into place.
¡°This makes wounds close,¡± Pryce said impatiently. ¡°I use this on my shoulder too,¡± he said, shrugging off his coat and pulling his shirt down to expose the stitches in his shoulder. By some odd coincidence he had planned to take them out today, fifteen days after he had put them in, but at least now he could use them to convince Fathom they were safe.
The dragon rumbled skeptically despite this piece of evidence, he glanced nervously between the stitches in Pryce¡¯s shoulder and the needle.
¡°Trust me,¡± Pryce said in exasperation, then seeing that Fathom did not understand, explained, ¡°Trust me means you think what I say is true, because I say it.¡±
Fathom made another hesitant noise, but ultimately nodded once and looked away as Pryce had instructed earlier.
The stitching took a long time to complete, and Pryce had to open several packets of sterilized thread just to close this one wound. He had brought ten with him since they were so small, and each had more thread than was needed for one human patient, but now he wasn¡¯t sure if he had enough to close them all.
¡°Done,¡± Pryce said, rubbing the sweat off his forehead on the sleeve of his coat. He was forced to space the stitches apart longer than he would¡¯ve liked to save thread, but it was an adequate job.
¡°You are done now?¡± Fathom sighed in relief.
¡°No, I¡¯m done with this one, now I have to do all of the others,¡± Pryce said. ¡°No, you were lucky to not get killed by infection before,¡± he said sternly, dismissing Fathom¡¯s protests. ¡°Now show me your second worst wound.¡±
The next injury was a long set of raking lines on his shoulders that almost lined up with his old scars, which took even more thread than the previous wound since there were three gashes on each shoulder. By the time Pryce was finished with this set of injuries he only had a few packets of thread left.
He did what he could for the rest, cleaning the smaller ones and holding bandages in place with non-medical tape. None of what he was doing was at all ideal, but it was the best he could without a sterile environment and proper medical equipment.
Pryce lit a lantern when the sun began to set, and continued cleaning, sanitizing, sealing, and stitching wounds whenever he could.
Eventually he finished treating the flesh wounds enough to begin inspecting the wings which were badly torn. Most of the injuries had long since stopped bleeding and seemed like they would heal with time and some simple treatment, but the problem was the phalange of the wing¡¯s index ¡®finger¡¯ had broken right next to where the malunion was. Broken bones almost always mended stronger than before, but this only meant that the new weak point was the area around the callused bone, especially when it was a malunion to begin with.
¡°I do not want my wing to be¡worse than before. Can you heal this? Fathom asked, voice quavering as he watched Pryce inspect the broken wing. Pryce could not tell if it was from pain or fear, but regardless he was unable to provide any false reassurances.
¡°Maybe, I don¡¯t know, I have never done this before.¡± Pryce knew resetting this bone may require some degree of surgery as the tips of the broken bone were straining against the skin, and if he was to commit to some surgery then he may as well saw off part of the malunion to straighten the whole bone.
The problem was how he didn¡¯t know if the usual surgical procedures would even work on dragon bones. They were likely at least as strong as gryphon bones, and if that was the case then he wasn¡¯t confident in using screws, nails, or rods to hold the bones in place.
The safest bet was to use a clamp to hold a metal rod against the bones to hold it in place while it healed and forego surgery altogether, but that plan had problems too; if the bone were fragmented then the pieces would need to be removed.
Pryce turned to Fathom. ¡°I can use metal sticks to stop your wing from moving, then it may be a little better or a little worse than before,¡± Pryce said to Fathom, who was listening raptly. ¡°Or I can¡carve your skin open and fix the bones, then your wing may be much better or much worse than before, I don¡¯t know which.¡±
¡°Carve skin open?¡± Fathom asked, wide-eyed.
¡°Yes, your bone healed wrong long time ago, so there is a round part. I need to carve off the round part to make it straight again.¡±
¡°Cut¡bone?¡± The dragon sounded a bit faint, though it might have been the exhaustion and blood loss catching up to him.
¡°I don¡¯t know what to do,¡± Pryce said. ¡°Cutting off skin, muscle, and bone is called surgery. I last did surgery on other humans twenty-six years ago, surgery maybe make your wing better than before, but if I make a big mistake then you maybe¡cannot fly. What do you want me to do?¡±
Fathom was silent for a few minutes, and Pryce continued working on lesser injuries as the dragon considered his options. ¡°I always win fights against dragon that kill Abyss with infection, but I cannot win against stronger dragons like I did before,¡± Fathom said, clenching his talons in frustration. ¡°Please try to fix my wing.¡±
¡°I¡¯ll do my best,¡± Pryce nodded. He worked for a few more minutes, then asked, ¡°¡why did he come here to fight you today? And why did you hurt each other so bad?¡±
¡°Normally dragons fly around their territory, but in the last twenty days I did not do that very much. If dragon finds dead dragon, he can take dead dragon¡¯s things. He become mad when he see I am not dead,¡± Fathom huffed humorously, glad to disappoint his enemy.
Pryce felt a stab of guilt that he had indirectly caused this by spending so much time with Fathom but pushed those feelings aside to focus on the task at hand to ask, ¡°What did the loser offer to give to the winner?¡±
¡°Nothing, we both hate the other, so we agree to fight,¡± Fathom said simply, hissing a little as Pryce disinfected another wound.
¡°I understand,¡± Pryce muttered. ¡°So, do you want me to do surgery?¡±
Fathom inhaled a deep breath, and said, ¡°When dragon get hurt like this, we sleep for long time. I will sleep maybe two or three days, when I sleep, you do surgery.¡±
¡°Are you sure? If I fail, you can not fly again, forever,¡± Pryce said, making the consequences as clear as he could.
This gave Fathom some pause, but only for a second. ¡°I do not want to lose to him again. Do surgery, I trust you.¡±
Pryce was distantly touched by the dragon¡¯s faith in him, but he was already redoubling his concentration for the upcoming tasks.
¡°I will do my best,¡± was all he said.
Pryce continued to work on the flesh wounds while Fathom was awake, only sparingly using the stitching thread so that he could save enough for treating the broken bone; he was going to try and stitch a metal rod against the bone to hold it in place.
¡°I will sleep now, in maybe ten minutes I will deep sleep, that is sleep that I can not awake from,¡± Fathom said a little nervously.
¡°I promise I will do my best to help you heal, you can sleep now,¡± Pryce reassured.
In less than a minute the dragon¡¯s breathing began to slow, then he began to snore lightly, the air whistling out of his nostrils. The slow and repetitive sound calmed Pryce¡¯s nerves as he worked into the night.
It was sometime in the middle of the night when Pryce had finally finished treating all of the flesh wounds. Fathom had indeed not stirred even as he disinfected the other injuries, so Pryce was certain he was in a ¡®deep sleep¡¯.
He began by setting the wing onto the tarp against the floor, then he palpated the site of the broken bone and saw that it seemed like a clean transverse fracture. That was good.
Next, he pulled the bones apart to fit them back into place with some difficulty, but eventually he was able to line up the bones so that they were in the same position they were before the fracture.
Then he braced the bones against a metal rod to carefully make an incision lengthwise along the bone, the tough skin resisted the obsidian scalpel, but not for long. Soon he had a clean cut where he could push the skin aside to examine the bones; plucking out two small fragments with the forceps as he did so. Aside from those fragments, the bone had broken as cleanly as he had suspected.
Now came the hard part, he retrieved the stainless-steel saw and hoped that it would be strong enough to get through the knot of malformed bone.
Pryce wasn¡¯t sure how long it took, but he was eventually able to saw off the stubborn bulb of bone and fit the two halves together smoothly. After that, he tried to hold the screw and some metal rods into place, but the screws refused to bite into the tough bone. Having no other choice, Pryce cut tiny notches above and below the break in the bones, and then used the stitching thread to pull the two grooves together. He made two of these so that the thread made an X shape so that it would have more strength before he closed the incision.
The last step was to fasten titanium rods around the bone to keep it straight. Titanium was a softer metal than steel, so he was able to use the steel saw to add notches to the rod without too much difficulty. He made sure to use a rock to smooth out the notches so that the sharp grooves wouldn¡¯t cut the silk stitching threads. The notches served a similar function on the rod as the ones on the bones; they helped the stitches hold the rod in place.
When he was done the bone was straight, held in place by two titanium rods on either side. To make sure the dragon didn¡¯t toss and turn in his sleep, Pryce bundled the wing up ¨C with great difficulty ¨C and used the chain Fathom had been using as a necklace to keep it bundled together.
Pryce looked up and winced at a bright light poured into the cave; the sun had risen, his lantern completely cold.
¡°Oh,¡± he said vacantly, stumbling towards his bags as his exhaustion caught up to him, collapsing onto the bags as his mind and body finally gave out.
Chapter 24, Day 42 – 43: Torpor
[JOURNAL ENTRY]
Day 42,
Apologies for the gap in entries, I will add these pages to my journal as I do not have it on my person at the moment.
Please refer to the mission log entries for the events leading up to this point in time, this journal is for my personal thoughts.
On day 40 I did not write an entry as I was honestly quite devastated by the destruction of the chronometer, which is admittedly a rather flimsy excuse given the recent events.
On day 41, Fathom immediately tried to give me his own most valued treasure upon learning the chronometer had great personal value to me ¨C the treasure in question being an iridescent ammonite fossil given by Abyss, his deceased mate.
I believe dragons have a very strong sense of honor, or at least Fathom does. Whatever they deem permissible may not be precisely moral or ethical by human standards, but when something conflicts with their beliefs they do not falter, as evidenced by how he attempted to repay me for accidentally breaking his promise. It is quite an admirable trait if the entire species shares it, though I must wonder what is it that motivates Pathogen? Fathom obviously hates him because he got Abyss killed, but why did he fight Fathom to begin with? Did it start as a normal conflict?
Fathom said that Pathogen was disappointed that he was not dead, and that any dragon who finds a deceased individual can claim their belongings. Finders keepers, I suppose.
Pathogen obviously wants Fathom dead but does not want to challenge him in a death-fight. I assume that death by infection after a fight is something of a loophole in the draconic rule of not killing one another, though I¡¯m not sure if any of them are actively exploiting it. Fathom did say Pathogen had challenged him many times but under the condition that neither harm the other too badly, this all does seem to point to Pathogen hoping Fathom would receive a fatal infection from one of those fights.
Fathom also once said that dragons think dead animals make other animals sick, which while not entirely correct is true enough; any dragon could literally dirty their talons to increase the likelihood of them inflicting an infection upon their opponent.
I cannot ask Fathom about this as he is still asleep, he did say he could sleep for 2 or 3 days, so I¡¯m not worried yet.
I worked on Fathom¡¯s wounds from approximately noon of day 41 to the late morning of day 42, and by the time I woke up the sun was setting. I applied some more ointment and attempted to pour some water into his mouth, but he either did not drink any or drank so little as to be imperceptible.
The most important things right now are hydration, nutrition, and antibiotics to prevent infection, especially as Pathogen might have intentionally tried to infect Fathom. Seeing as the latter two are not an option, I have poured 20 grams of a penicillin-water solution into his mouth in hopes that he can absorb some of it without imbibing any of it (a value obtained by scaling up the human dose/bodyweight ratio up to Fathom¡¯s 4590 kilograms)
With nothing else to do, I took Fathom¡¯s temperature (by sticking the thermometer between his teeth and lips so that he couldn¡¯t unconsciously bite or swallow it) measuring 31.45 degrees Centragrade
[1], high for a human.
I also attempted to listen to his heart rate, but the two extra hearts made things difficult. Still, I moved the stethoscope around until the beating was the loudest, and I recorded an average value of 30 bpm. The other two smaller hearts beat with the same frequency as the hydrogen heart, at 5 bpm. I¡¯m not sure if this is mere coincidence or not, but I don¡¯t have enough data for speculation.
Respiratory rate was a slow 4 bpm, but that is not unexpected given the fact that his lungs are massive. His pupils also appear responsive enough, though I can only eyeball estimate it.
I regret not recording Fathom¡¯s body temperature and heart rate, but what¡¯s done is done. I monitor these values and see how things change from here.
I cleaned up the blood and grime left behind by Fathom¡¯s wounds when the sun rose, though I obviously could not clean the floor under the dragon. Cleaning the cave and medical equipment ended up taking almost all day. I considered keeping some of the blood to study under a microscope back at the ship later, but it¡¯s all contaminated anyway. I¡¯ll just ask Fathom for a fresh sample when I need it.
Speaking of going back to the ship, I¡¯m pretty much stranded here until Fathom recovers, since going into the forest is basically a death sentence. If Fathom¡¯s condition worsens, I may have to start making plans¡
Note:
I¡¯ve decided to name the heart rates major, upper minor, lower minor, and hydrogen, for reasons that I believe are self-explanatory.
P.S. No significant change in Fathom¡¯s vital signs throughout the day.
Day 43,
Vitals signs, sunrise:
Respiratory rate: 5 bpm
Temperature: 31.78 degrees[2]
Major heart rate: 33 bpm
Upper minor heart rate: 6 bpm
Lower minor heart rate: 6 bpm
Hydrogen heart rate: 5 bpm
Pupil dilation: Responsive
Fathom has still not awoken, though his vitals are rising. This could mean he is beginning to wake up, but it could also be the beginning of a fever.
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Vitals signs, noon:
Respiratory rate: 5.5 bpm
Temperature: 31.93 degrees[3]
Major HR: 35 bpm
Upper minor HR: 6 bpm
Lower minor HR: 6 bpm
Hydrogen HR: 5 bpm
Pupil dilation: Responsive
Pryce looked up from his journal, his brow creased with worry as he observed the slumbering dragon.
At 33 degrees Centragrade it was advised to seek medical attention immediately.
At 34.5 degrees Centragrade the brain began to suffer damage from the heat, and while Fathom was not human, Pryce was hard pressed to imagine that their biochemistry was different enough to avoid that consequence.
He¡¯d pressed his palm against the dragon¡¯s scales to see if they felt warmer, but they had always felt warm ¨C while it was technically true that the scales were warm, they were also a great insulator. Pryce could press his palm against the scale Fathom had given him and it would still feel warm, because it was bouncing the heat from his palm back at him.
He wasn¡¯t sure why the scales were such great insulators, the weather was warm, so wouldn¡¯t heat dissipation be important?
Pryce pulled his palm away and ¨C he paused, noticing some odd movement. The hide seemed looser than before. He experimentally palpated one of the scales, and it indeed shifted more than normal, enough to shift past the overlap between scales and expose the rough skin beneath.
That was fascinating, did their skin loosen to help dissipate heat?
Pryce continued to observe Fathom, and in the next few hours the dragon¡¯s scales began to lift up a little, just enough to give him a somewhat fluffed up appearance. A closer inspection showed that most of the scales were anchored by flesh, but perhaps a centimeter of scale around the rim was free to lift upwards much like human goosebumps ¨C except it was not a vestigial function.
He had some water left, so he climbed atop the dragon to pour water over the dragon¡¯s torso to try and lower his body temperature. Then he realized it was probably more effective to use wet rags, so that was what he did next. It was a ridiculous sight to see a dragon with wet rags draped over his head and neck, but there wasn¡¯t much else he could do if Fathom wouldn¡¯t wake up.
Pryce searched the rest of the caves and was surprised to find one that had a small stream running through it, so at least that was one problem solved. He spent the rest of that day ferrying water from the stream to the trough, then sanitizing it as he did before.
Vitals signs, sunset:
Respiratory rate: 6 bpm
Temperature: 32.03 degrees[4]
Major HR: 36 bpm
Upper minor HR: 7 bpm
Lower minor HR: 7 bpm
Hydrogen HR: 5 bpm
Pupil dilation: Responsive
Pryce rubbed his eyes, unsure of what to do. Fathom wasn¡¯t drinking, and there was no other way to administer antibiotics except through the topical ointment, which he had used up today.
His efforts to help cool him down seemed to have helped a little, but it only slowed down the rate of increase if at all.
There wasn¡¯t anything else he could think of to help. All he had was penicillin V, which was taken orally. Tests had shown limited effectiveness in humans if it were injected, and it wasn¡¯t as if he had the materials to convert the pill into a saline solution either.
If only he had some penicillin G, then he could give Fathom an intravenous injection. The ship didn¡¯t store any penicillin G because it broke down after 5 days at room temperature
[5], and the ship didn¡¯t have a freezer as an electrical generator was not deemed to be a critical piece of hardware on this preliminary expedition.
Pryce sighed, kneeling down to take Fathom temperature again just to see if it changed from the twenty-odd minutes since the last measurement.
¡°What arre yoou doing?¡± Fathom slurred, eyelids slowly sliding open before his nictitating membranes slid to the side.
¡°You¡¯re awake?!¡± Pryce cried.
¡°No, I am sleeping,¡± Fathom grumbled, lifting his head and hissing in pain as he did so.
¡°Don¡¯t move your wing!¡± Pryce snapped urgently. ¡°I fixed your wing, but if you move it wrong now, you¡¯ll never fly again!¡±
Fathom slowly swiveled his head around to look upon his wings, where a patchwork of bandages and tape sat beneath the chain binding his left wing closed. The dragon instinctively shifted his wing against the chain, but quickly calmed upon hearing the human¡¯s words.
¡°How are you feeling?¡± Pryce asked.
¡°Much pain, very warm,¡± Fathom wheezed, forcing himself up with a great effort.
¡°Stop that, you¡¯re going to rip open your wounds!¡±
¡°I need to make things go outside my body,¡± Fathom grunted drily.
¡°Oh¡right, but be careful and use as little strength as you can.¡±
Pryce prepared a dose of penicillin while Fathom was busy, mixing 20 grams of penicillin and some liters of water into the wooden bucket. ¡°Drink this,¡± he said when the dragon returned. ¡°This is penicillin, it will taste bad, but it will kill infection.¡±
¡°Why does human medicine make pain?¡± Fathom whined.
¡°Just drink it, even human children can drink this,¡± Pryce said, hoping to goad the dragon¡¯s pride.
Fathom huffed, but quickly drank the chalky liquid, then immediately drank from the clean water from the trough.
¡°Good,¡± Pryce said. ¡°You will need to drink this every 6 hours, sun set now, so drink some one or two hours before sun rises.¡±
Fathom simply groaned in response, slumping into a dejected pile of scales.
Pryce smiled, with Fathom conscious, things were looking up.
Some questioning revealed that Fathom had a moderately sized store of what resembled smoked meats that he had made in case he was too injured to hunt. Pryce encouraged him to eat these despite his lack of appetite so that his body had the energy to fight off the infection.
Pryce didn¡¯t think these smoked meats were safe for human consumption, so he stuck with his dwindling supply of rations. He¡¯d run out tomorrow, but he could try hunting some of the local wildlife; Fathom did say there was a population of blue lizards around somewhere.
¡°Go to sleep, you need to not move to be healthy,¡± Pryce told the restless dragon.
¡°I¡want to use talons on my scales,¡± Fathom said, flexing said digits against the floor.
¡°What does that ¨C oh, your wounds itch,¡± Pryce said in realization. ¡°Don¡¯t scratch them, you¡¯ll open them.¡±
¡°Everything opens my wounds,¡± Fathom muttered, lashing his tail irritably ¨C it was one of the few parts of his body that was free of injuries.
Pryce sighed, sitting up from his pile of rags. ¡°Where does it itch most?¡±
He spent the next half hour scratching the areas around the wounds with his sanitized hands, and Fathom rumbled appreciatively whenever he scratched a bit of loose skin that was normally beneath scales.
¡°Are you less itchy now?¡± Pryce asked, flexing his strained fingers.
¡°Yes,¡± Fathom mumbled contentedly, sounding half-asleep.
¡°What do you say¡?¡± Pryce asked expectantly.
¡°¡What?¡±
¡°What do you say when someone helps you?¡±
¡°¡thank you,¡± Fathom muttered.
¡°Good.¡±
¡°¡And thank you for¡helping me heal,¡± the dragon mumbled unexpectedly.
¡°Oh, um¡you¡¯re welcome,¡± Pryce said, caught off guard by this extra nicety.
¡°What is¡welcome?¡± Fathom mumbled drowsily.
¡°¡¯You¡¯re welcome¡¯ is something you say to someone who said, ¡®thank you¡¯,¡± Pryce explained.
But the dragon was already fast asleep.
Chapter 25, Day 44: Convalescence
Early in the morning Pryce prodded Fathom awake and gave him another dose, as promised. Afterwards he convinced the dragon to let him measure his vitals, much to his reluctance.
Vitals signs, sunrise of Day 44:
Respiratory rate: 7 bpm
Temperature: 32.33 degrees[1]
Major HR: 40 bpm
Upper minor HR: 7.5 bpm
Lower minor HR: 7.5 bpm
Hydrogen HR: 5 bpm
Pupil dilation: Responsive
Pryce frowned at these values; they had risen significantly. Of course, Fathom was awake now, so that was expected, but his temperature was worrying Pryce.
¡°How do you feel? Warm?¡±
¡°Hot,¡± Fathom said, breathing with his jaws slightly parted.
Pryce sighed and told Fathom to sit still while he ferried cold mountain water over him.
¡°Better?¡± He asked after what felt like the better part of an hour.
¡°A little better¡thank you,¡± Fathom mumbled almost inaudibly. At least his manners were improving.
¡°Does your head hurt? Feel strange?¡±
¡°Head hurt some, feel¡like fur?¡± Fathom tried explaining. ¡°How do you know this?¡±
¡°Your head feels fuzzy, humans are like that too when we get sick. You have a fever, that means your body is warmer than normal.¡±
¡°You use human tools, measure my body temperature? How much is it?¡±
¡°Yes,¡± Pryce said, glad he had explained all this earlier. ¡°Your lowest body temperature I measured was 31.45 degrees Centragrade, the temperature I measured this morning was the highest at 32.33 degrees.¡±
¡°This is very small difference,¡± Fathom snorted, or tried to; he only produced a sort of weak huff.
¡°Body temperature is very important,¡± Pryce warned. ¡°Healthy human body temperature is 29.9 to 30.8 degrees Centragrade, if body temperature is more than 33.1 degrees this is bad, if body temperature is more than 34.75 degrees this is very very bad, human heads get permanent damage, and humans maybe die. Permanent is when thing does not go away, like scars.¡±
¡°My body feels hotter than difference of 0.88 degrees,¡± Fathom said stubbornly despite his weakness.
¡°It¡¯s probably more, because I did not measure your temperature when you were healthy,¡± Pryce explained, blinking at the exact value. ¡°Your body feels much hotter because being a little bit hot is very bad for your body, so your body wants you to be colder.¡±
¡°Body can want things?¡± Fathom asked tiredly, weakly twitching his spines in confusion.
¡°A little bit?¡± Pryce said, rolling his hand in an uncertain gesture. ¡°It is complicated.¡±
Fathom rumbled and slowly stood up on shaking limbs, much to Pryce¡¯s surprise.
¡°What are you doing? You¡¯re going to open your wounds!¡± Pryce cried.
¡°Small river water is cold, I go sit in it,¡± Fathom grunted.
¡°That¡is a good idea,¡± Pryce said, embarrassed that he didn¡¯t think of this idea sooner. Fathom risked opening his wounds, but the fever was at a dangerous 32.33 degrees, which was likely more dangerous than the possibility of torn stitches. Fathom had already moved around a little without opening anything, so the risk was worth it in Pryce¡¯s judgment. ¡°Just don¡¯t get the bandages wet,¡± he warned. They were mostly water resistant, but they weren¡¯t meant to soak in a river all day.
Pryce was very careful when he stepped outside the caves to hunt, he peered around with his head close to the ground and moved side to side to try and see any hidden raptors. He saw none, but that didn¡¯t mean he could let his guard down; there also might be other well-camouflaged creatures around that Fathom forgot to mention.
Eventually he took up position on top of a small cliff and waited for a few hours until a small six-legged but otherwise nondescript rock-colored lizard wandered into view. It was large enough to make several meals for Pryce, but he would have liked to get something fresh for Fathom to eat.
Pryce noticed something in the skies and saw it was a large avian, probably a meter or more in length. The sky-blue bird-like creature swooped down behind the lizard and picked it off the ground with shocking speed.
He moved to a more secure position after that, but many hours later he was forced to give up and go back to give Fathom another dose of antibiotics.
¡°You did not hunt anything?¡± Fathom asked, cracking open a tired eyelid from his place in the river. Pryce noted that his skin had tightened up again, and the scales were sitting flush against his body, which was probably a good sign.
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¡°No, I only saw a small lizard, and the small lizard got eaten by a blue bird.¡±
¡°Blue birds are rare,¡± Fathom said with mild surprise, though he closed his eyes afterwards.
¡°Don¡¯t go back to sleep, you need to drink more antibiotics,¡± Pryce said as he prepared the solution.
¡°Antibiotics taste bad,¡± Fathom nearly whined. ¡°I do not feel better, why do you make me drink it?¡±
¡°Antibiotics take two or three days to work, now drink,¡± Pryce answered mercilessly.
After forcing the dragon to take his medicine, Pryce measured his vitals again, much to Fathom¡¯s annoyance.
Vitals signs, noon of Day 44:
Respiratory rate: 6.5 bpm
Temperature: 32.01 degrees[2]
Major HR: 42 bpm
Upper minor HR: 7 bpm
Lower minor HR: 7 bpm
Hydrogen HR: 5 bpm
Pupil dilation: Responsive
Pryce breathed a sigh of relief upon seeing the lowered temperature. The other vital signs were higher, but they weren¡¯t nearly as dangerous as an excessive body temperature.
After this checkup he went back out to hunt for something that Fathom could eat. It was frustrating that he couldn¡¯t go into the forest without undue risk to his life, but within a few hours he was rewarded with the sight of a lizard, roughly two-and-a-half meters long and brilliant blue. It was just as Fathom described; 6 limbs, somewhat lizard-like in appearance with a powerful looking jaw.
A well-placed shot through its neck killed it instantly, allowing him to bring it back home¡which was much easier said than done. It took a long time to drag the eighty-odd-kilograms of lizard, and Pryce regretted not bringing a pulley all the while as he grunted, heaved, and swore whenever the lizard slid back down a slope. But eventually he did get it to the cave, collapsing as soon as he finished his task.
Pryce roasted a haunch of the lizard¡¯s leg. Fortunately, this creature didn¡¯t seem to have the exceptional toughness of gryphons or dragons and wasn¡¯t difficult to butcher. He sampled a small piece first in case it was poisonous to humans; its flavor was quite good, and the texture was something reminiscent of a crocodile ¨C a cross between fish and chicken. Pryce added some salt and set the haunch aside in an empty ration bag for later, once he had confirmed it wasn¡¯t poisonous.
The smell had attracted Fathom, who slowly padded into the cave so as to not aggravate any of his healing woods.
¡°I cannot stay in water forever,¡± Fathom said reasonably, water still dripping from his body as Pryce glared at him for straining his wounds. He wasn¡¯t wrong, but Pryce was still nettled at having his prognosis defied.
¡°Do you want me to cook it, or are you just going to eat it raw, like this?¡± He asked, gesturing to the corpse.
¡°I eat now,¡± Fathom said, moving forward with short, pained steps.
¡°Stop, you shouldn¡¯t walk so much, just stay in the cave with the river next time,¡± Pryce chided, stepping in front of Fathom to block his path.
¡°I can walk a little distance,¡± Fathom hissed indignantly.
¡°I don¡¯t have any more things to make stitches!¡± Pryce warned, stepping over the lizard to stare Fathom in the eyes. ¡°Please don¡¯t make your wounds worse. If you rip yourself open, I can¡¯t do anything to help you if you do.¡±
Fathom glared down at him, breathing heavily, then slowly sat down.
Pryce spent a minute laboriously dragging the lizard towards the dragon, who watched the human work with a mulish expression.
¡°Here,¡± Pryce gasped, dropping the lizard¡¯s tail. Fathom stared down at the blue lizard, then huffed as he looked at Pryce who was panting on his hands and knees.
¡°¡I am sorry, you do much work to help me. It is bad for a dragon to need help, so I¡do not like you giving me help,¡± Fathom admitted, looking off to the side as he said this.
¡°I understand, some humans like that too,¡± Pryce said after recovering his breath. ¡°Sometimes sick humans don¡¯t want help, even if they need it. Sometimes they die.¡±
¡°Sounds like there are many types of humans,¡± Fathom rumbled before digging into the lizard, and Pryce could not disagree.
Fathom returned to nap in the river after finishing his meal and taking his medicine. Pryce had asked if he was hungry, but the dragon said he was not feeling well, and that he could not eat any more.
Pryce measured the temperature of the river¡¯s water out of curiosity, and saw that it was a cool 6.50 degrees Centragrade
[3]. The river was perhaps thigh-deep, and Fathom¡¯s density so low that he could not sink very much even if the water were deeper, but it was still odd that he could sit on top of cold water all day. Pryce supposed it was the insulating effect of the scales protecting Fathom from losing too much heat.
He occupied himself with writing in his journal and making notes of various things he noticed. The plants and sparse trees were of different species than the ones he was familiar with, of course, but still very similar to the trees he knew, at least on the surface. He wasn¡¯t much of an arborist, but he did collect a few cuttings to place into his bags.
Soon the sun began to set, and Pryce woke Fathom to take his medicine and to get his vitals measured.
Vitals signs, sunset of Day 44:
Respiratory rate: 6 bpm
Temperature: 31.78 degrees[4]
Major HR: 43 bpm
Upper minor HR: 6.5 bpm
Lower minor HR: 6.5 bpm
Hydrogen HR: 5 bpm
Pupil dilation: Responsive
Fathom slipped into the subterranean river after Pryce measured his vital signs. He seemed fatigued by his fever, though he did say he felt better.
It was a great relief for Pryce to see Fathom¡¯s body temperature falling back down towards normal levels. The purpose of a fever was to make the body hot enough to be inhospitable to foreign invaders, but too much heat would also damage the body. Artificially lowering body heat would normally risk allowing the pathogens to spread throughout the body somewhat unchecked, but the doses of antibiotics would fix that problem.
Pryce rested well that night, lulled to sleep by the trickling sounds of the river that echoed off the cave walls.
[JOURNAL ENTRY]
Fathom¡¯s temperature has gone down throughout the day, as listed above. I began administering the antibiotic at the end of day 43, so I should begin to see effects by day 45 ¨C tomorrow night.
Once the infection is cured, all Fathom has to do is to heal, and it might be a month or two, but I think he¡¯s finally out of danger. My chief concerns are now food; Fathom can¡¯t hunt in his condition, and he only has so much smoked meat, so the rest is up to me. I have 60 rounds (59 after hunting a blue lizard today), which should be enough to last until Fathom is well enough to hunt on land, even if he cannot fly.
I¡¯m not sure how much he eats; I should ask him tomorrow. The fever has definitely diminished his appetite. I¡¯ve had to encourage him to eat despite the fact that he¡¯s had very little food since his battle three days ago.
At most, I can drag an animal of around maybe 80 kg, and that takes a great effort. Unfortunately, I don¡¯t have a pulley, and even if I did have one there¡¯s nowhere for me to affix it to. The only thing I can think of is to maybe wrap the rope around a stalagmite to function as a primitive pulley. It doesn¡¯t sound very feasible, and I don¡¯t have much rope, but it may be worth a try.
Chapter 26, Day 45 – 47: Complication
[Journal Entry]
Day 45,
Fathom said that he would normally eat two lizards of the size I hunted yesterday, but it was difficult for him to eat even one with a fever reducing his appetite.
Today was fairly similar to the day before, I gave Fathom his medication and hunted down some food ¨C this time a smaller but still sizeable brown lizard one meter long, perhaps 40 kilograms.
I felt no ill effects from the nibble of blue lizard meat I had yesterday, so I ate the rest of the haunch after reheating it.
|
Vitals signs, sunrise of Day 45:
Respiratory rate: 6 bpm
Temperature: 32.18 degrees[1]
Major HR: 38 bpm
Upper minor HR: 6 bpm
Lower minor HR: 6 bpm
Hydrogen HR: 5 bpm
Pupil dilation: Responsive
|
Vitals signs, noon of Day 45:
Respiratory rate: 6 bpm
Temperature: 31.84 degrees[2]
Major HR: 40 bpm
Upper minor HR: 6.5 bpm
Lower minor HR: 6.5 bpm
Hydrogen HR: 5 bpm
Pupil dilation: Responsive
|
Vitals signs, sunset of Day 45:
Respiratory rate: 6.5 bpm
Temperature: 31.62 degrees[3]
Major HR: 41 bpm
Upper minor HR: 6.5 bpm
Lower minor HR: 6.5 bpm
Hydrogen HR: 5 bpm
Pupil dilation: Responsive
|
Fathom¡¯s temperature continues to go down, but some of his other vitals slightly rose. He also said that he does not feel better, despite his fading fever, which is concerning. His wounds are warm and feel infected, but I do not have the means to treat them except with oral antibiotics, and those should be kicking in soon, if Fathom does not feel better by tomorrow morning, I¡¯ll double the dosage for him every day until he feels better.
Day 46,
Fathom is feeling worse, he''s started to cough and has been complaining of headaches, dizziness, and weakness despite the fact that his body temperature is still returning to ¡®normal¡¯. I¡¯ve started giving him 40 grams/dose, hopefully we see some changes by tomorrow.
|
Vitals signs, sunrise of Day 46:
Respiratory rate: 6.5 bpm
Temperature: 31.60 degrees[4]
Major HR: 42 bpm
Upper minor HR: 7 bpm
Lower minor HR: 7 bpm
Hydrogen HR: 5 bpm
Pupil dilation: Responsive
|
Vitals signs, noon of Day 46:
Respiratory rate: 7.5 bpm
Temperature: 31.55 degrees[5]
Major HR: 43 bpm
Upper minor HR: 7.5 bpm
Lower minor HR: 7.5 bpm
Hydrogen HR: 5 bpm
Pupil dilation: Responsive
|
Vitals signs, sunset of Day 46:
Respiratory rate: 8 bpm
Temperature: 31.49 degrees[6]
Major HR: 43 bpm
Upper minor HR: 7.5 bpm
Lower minor HR: 7.5 bpm
Hydrogen HR: 5 bpm
Pupil dilation: Responsive
|
Day 47,
|
Vitals signs, sunrise of Day 47:
Respiratory rate: 8 bpm
Temperature: 31.41 degrees[4]
Major HR: 42 bpm
Upper minor HR: 7 bpm
Lower minor HR: 7 bpm
Hydrogen HR: 5 bpm
Pupil dilation: Responsive
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|
Fathom¡¯s condition continues to deteriorate despite the temperature of his fever hitting an all-time low.
I¡¯m worried that the antibiotics aren¡¯t working for some reason. It could be anything, but I have no way to diagnose the problem. Either the body is destroying the drug before it can be absorbed, or it¡¯s not being absorbed at all for some reason. The latter is possible, but there¡¯s nothing I can do in that case. If it¡¯s the former, then the most likely cause is stomach acid. Fathom ate those pigs that had been dead for several days, and he was perfectly fine afterwards. I can safely assume his digestive system is quite robust, and that means having some powerful stomach acid.
Should I ask Fathom to drink a lot of water? I don¡¯t have any chemical bases with me to neutralize the stomach acid, and it¡¯s not like I can just find any just lying around
Pryce abruptly stopped writing to look up at the stalactites on the cave ceiling.
Stalactites were often made of limestone¡otherwise known as calcium carbonate, a base.
Pryce quickly got to work breaking off a small stalagmite. He wrapped the broken tip in some rags and smashed it with a rock, then he used the rags as a filter as he poured water onto the bits of dust and rock, leaving behind a milky white filtrate in a metal cup.
Pryce repeated this step to concentrate calcium carbonate solution several times. He didn¡¯t bother trying to calculate how much he¡¯d need to neutralize the acid in the dragon¡¯s stomach; there were so many unknowns that the result would be completely meaningless.
Fathom cracked an eye open from his place in the pool, twitching his spines in irritation at the loud noises Pryce made as he smashed the rocks.
¡°What¡are you doing?¡± He asked drowsily.
¡°Medicine is not working for you like it does for humans,¡± Pryce said excitedly. ¡°I think I know why. When you eat food, food goes into stomach, stomach breaks food using thing that is like fire called ¡®acid¡¯. I think your acid is breaking penicillin, so if I make your acid weaker, your body can use penicillin!¡±
¡°You¡make my stomach weaker¡is good?¡± Fathom asked weakly.
¡°This won¡¯t make it weak long, only a little bit. Like how cold water makes your body cold, but your body will be warm soon,¡± Pryce reassured. ¡°It is bitter though, like medicine.¡±
¡°All human medicine makes pain or is bitter,¡± Fathom huffed.
Pryce ignored this complaint as he dipped a piece of litmus paper into the solution and measured a pH level of approximately 8.5, excellent. Calcium carbonate had a pH level of 9 or 10, but he couldn¡¯t expect to reach that just by smashing and filtering rocks.
¡°You did not answer my question, why are you breaking rocks?¡±
¡°Oh, right, I¡¯m breaking rocks because these rocks neutralize the acid, that means it makes acid water. Things that make acid weaker are called ¡®bases¡¯,¡± Pryce explained.
¡°You¡want me to eat rocks?¡± Fathom asked, looking as if Pryce had grown another set of arms.
¡°Salt is a rock, and you eat salt.¡±
¡°Salt is not a rock, salt is salt,¡± Fathom insisted, rousing from his stupor to defend this point.
¡°Salt is a soft rock.¡±
¡°I¡am tired,¡± Fathom sighed, giving up on this argument as he lowered his head back into the shallow river.
¡°Rest, I¡¯ll go and boil this,¡± Pryce said, leaving the cave to start a fire. He returned ten minutes later to cool the boiling water, then added 40 grams of antibiotics to the solution.
Pryce told Fathom to drink as much water as he could before giving him the medicine, hoping this would dilute the stomach acid. The entire length of Fathom¡¯s body shuddered as he drank this concoction, and he dropped the empty cup with a clang to go back to sleep.
¡°You should get well soon, let me know how you feel later.¡±
Fathom¡¯s only response was to grumble miserably.
|
Vitals signs, noon of Day 47:
Respiratory rate: 9 bpm
Temperature: 31.21 degrees[5]
Major HR: 44 bpm
Upper minor HR: 7 bpm
Lower minor HR: 7 bpm
Hydrogen HR: 5 bpm
Pupil dilation: Responsive
|
Vitals signs, sunset of Day 47:
Respiratory rate: 9 bpm
Temperature: 31.10 degrees[6]
Major HR: 45 bpm
Upper minor HR: 7 bpm
Lower minor HR: 7 bpm
Hydrogen HR: 5 bpm
Pupil dilation: Responsive
|
Pryce repeated this treatment two more times before sunset, but Fathom¡¯s condition only continued to worsen. The dragon was slow to wake even with Pryce podding at him, and now nearly spent all his time asleep. Whenever he did wake, he was sure to mention how his head hurt, or how weak he felt, or how he felt hot and cold at the same time.
He was so confident that weakening the stomach acid would¡¯ve helped, but maybe he didn¡¯t use enough limestone? But he didn¡¯t want to make Fathom sick either. Calcium carbonate was used as a mineral supplement, but all drugs had adverse effects if they were overdosed.
He had nothing better to do anyway, so he did some napkin math to determine how much would be too much for a dragon:
Calcium carbonate was usually sold in quantities of 500 mg per tablet for a person of about 70 kg, scaled up to Fathom, that meant a dose of 32.78 grams.
But this was almost useless to know, he could boil the filtrate down until it was a thick slush, but he had no way of determining the concentration of the calcium carbonate in his solution.
An even bigger problem was his dwindling supply of antibiotics. He only had one kilogram with him, and he¡¯d used 500 grams already. He had two more kilograms on the ship that he didn¡¯t bring, because he had somehow convinced himself that was a bad idea.
At the rate of 40 grams/dose, he would run out of antibiotics after 12.5 more doses, or a little over 3 days.
To make matters worse, Pryce wanted to double that dosage, but doing so meant he had 6.25 doses left, or around one and a half days.
He didn¡¯t like burning through his stock, but the answer was clear. Fathom wasn¡¯t showing any signs of recovering even after 2 days; his fever had gone down, but that was probably because of him sitting in the river. All of his other symptoms had gotten much worse.
He would have to start giving him 80 grams/dose tomorrow morning, and if the dragon did not begin to show signs of recovery soon¡Pryce would have to retrieve more from the ship on his own.
Chapter 27, Day 48 – 49: Planning
Day 48,
Vitals signs, sunrise of Day 48:
Respiratory rate: 10 bpm
Temperature: 31.20 degrees[1]
Major HR: 45 bpm
Upper minor HR: 7.5 bpm
Lower minor HR: 7.5 bpm
Hydrogen HR: 5 bpm
Pupil dilation: Responsive
Early in the morning Pryce gave Fathom 80 grams of penicillin as Fathom had not improved through the night. His vital signs were steadily worsening, and more concerningly all of his symptoms were worsening ¨C most notably his cough. Later in the day Pryce could hear deafening hacks echoing throughout the caves, and he gave the dragon some saltwater to gargle. Fathom looked at Pryce¡¯s silly demonstration skeptically, but he admitted that the saltwater had helped a little after he followed the human¡¯s example.
With his medical work done for the time being, Pryce began his plans on how to get to the ship and back safely. He knew it was incredibly dangerous, but if Fathom died then he was pretty well doomed, so there was no point shirking risk now.
Fathom had said he could fly from his home to the ship in 26 beats, or 312 seconds, so assuming he could fly at an average speed of 20 ¨C 40 km/hr, that meant the distance Pryce had to travel was 1.73 ¨C 3.467 km.
That didn¡¯t sound like far, but Fathom could fly in a straight line. Pryce did have a compass, but entering the forest was tantamount to suicide, so he would have to follow Eulogy river which was fortunately mostly straight. Factoring the slight twists in the river, Pryce estimated a one-way trip to be 6 kilometers at the most. That was a little over an hour at a brisk walking pace, so the problem wasn¡¯t the distance, but the wildlife.
Fathom had culled the raptor population to some extent twenty days ago, that wasn¡¯t nearly enough time for them to repopulate, but another group might¡¯ve taken over their territory by now. That wasn¡¯t even considering all the other dangers Fathom had told Pryce about, the white tigers, armorillas, phoenixes, presumably oversized crocodiles, and the occasional land octopus.
It was a shame he didn¡¯t have a boat, if he did then he could ride his way down the river with ease, and that would make half his trip much safer.
Pryce thought about using the trough since it looked like a dugout canoe, but it would be incredibly unstable. He knew even well-made canoes required experience and skill to operate, and he had neither. Could he make it more stable? Maybe attach smaller logs to the sides? But even if he did that, the pseudo-canoe was so thick and heavy that he¡¯d never get it down the mountain in one piece.
¡°Do you have anything like this?¡± Pryce asked, showing Fathom the bowl he¡¯d been using to weigh the penicillin.
¡°This is like¡black tortoise...shell,¡± Fathom wheezed.
Pryce¡¯s eyes widened in hope. ¡°Do you have any tortoise shells that I can stand in?¡±
¡°Yes, lots¡I throw bones out in¡direction of river,¡± Fathom gestured weakly. ¡°Why you ask?¡±
¡°I only have some penicillin left; I need to go to ship to get more if your fever does not get better,¡± Pryce explained, making Fathom rear his head up despite his fatigue.
¡°You can not do this, you will die!¡± He rasped; eyes wide and alarmed.
¡°Maybe, but I have a plan, an idea to help me go to ship,¡± Pryce said placatingly. ¡°Maybe I use turtle shell like a ship, float on river to go to my ship, then move ship to river at bottom of this mountain, yes?¡±
Fathom paused, thinking sluggishly in his feverish state. ¡°Animals in river can make shell turn over, you go into water, you die.¡±
¡°What things?¡± Pryce sighed. Of course things wouldn¡¯t be that easy.
¡°Things like big crocodiles, big fish, big eels,¡± Fathom listed wearily. ¡°You can not do this.¡±
¡°Uh, okay, what if I walk near the river?¡± Pryce asked. ¡°What if I walk where river goes, follow river to ocean?¡±
¡°Then things in forest can kill you.¡±
Pryce shrugged helplessly. ¡°Well, do you have any ideas on what I can do?¡±
¡°You stay here, I get better,¡± Fathom said, immediately having a coughing fit after saying this.
¡°Yeah, any other ideas?¡±
¡°¡maybe you go under shell, follow river?¡± Fathom asked.
¡°That¡¯s¡the shell is too heavy, and how would I even see?¡± Pryce scoffed.
¡°Shell is not heavy, and you can make holes with tools.¡±
¡°Okay,¡± Pryce said, considering this ridiculous idea. ¡°What if a raptor finds me, then makes shell turn over?¡±
¡°¡you die,¡± Fathom admitted, letting out a wheezing huff as he chewed on the problem.
¡°I think using the shell to float is the best plan,¡± Pryce said, crossing his arms.
¡°That makes no sense, how can you stop shell when you go to ocean?¡± Fathom scoffed, setting his head back down.
¡°Uh¡¡± Pryce said. He¡¯d imagined making a sort of paddle, which would work in theory, but in practice he might get washed out to the much more dangerous ocean. Maybe he could use a rock as an anchor? ¡°I can use wood to push water, make shell move to beach,¡± he said simply.
¡°I do not think shell will float good¡if water go inside¡shell will sink,¡± Fathom rasped.
¡°You carved a tree that has water inside of it, what if I use that tree to float on river? I can put more wood on the sides to make it float better.¡±
Fathom twitched his spines in annoyance. ¡°That maybe work better¡but I take long time to carve that tree¡how you get tree to river?¡±
¡°That¡¯s one of the big problems with that plan,¡± Pryce said, holding his chin in his hands in thought. ¡°I can¡¯t think of any way to do that¡¡±
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
¡°Then you stay, I get better,¡± Fathom repeated stubbornly.
Pryce sighed. ¡°I hope you do.¡±
Vitals signs, noon of Day 48:
Respiratory rate: 12 bpm
Temperature: 31.40 degrees[2]
Major HR: 47 bpm
Upper minor HR: 7.5 bpm
Lower minor HR: 7.5 bpm
Hydrogen HR: 5 bpm
Pupil dilation: Responsive
¡°I think I am getting better,¡± Fathom said between fits of coughing and wheezing, and Pryce wordlessly gave Fathom his medicine, grimacing at this touching but painfully obvious farce.
Later, Pryce scouted the path to the river, finding a distinct trail left by years of Fathom¡¯s use. The trees were sparse on the mountainside, so Pryce was reasonably certain he would be safe from land-octopi as he made slight deviations from this trail ¨C certain drops in the path that Fathom could have easily stepped down were too steep for Pryce to traverse on foot, and far too steep to transport a hollowed tree trunk without it rolling down the mountainside.
Even with limited greenery, he saw many strange bugs that were far larger than the ones he was familiar with, though most of them seemed to ignore him, the few that didn¡¯t he swatted with branches; if there was one good thing about bugs being bigger it was that they were harder to miss.
It did not take long for him to reach the river with it being perhaps a few hundred meters from Fathom¡¯s caves. The river here was bordered by beaches, and he saw no living things on the sand except for some small but colorful crabs that he avoided. A few dead trees were nearby, those would be good to use as stabilizers on whatever he used.
The river was perhaps 50 meters wide and moved quite fast, around 7 kilometers per hour. Pryce was glad it was so wide and straight, if it had twists and turns then not only would he have a much greater distance to travel, but he wasn¡¯t sure if he could drive the ship upstream in that case.
He quickly left for the safety of the caves after surveying the area, there was no reason to wait for a predator to stumble onto him.
Vitals signs, sunset of Day 48:
Respiratory rate: 12 bpm
Temperature: 31.36 degrees[3]
Major HR: 48 bpm
Upper minor HR: 7.5 bpm
Lower minor HR: 7.5 bpm
Hydrogen HR: 5 bpm
Pupil dilation: Responsive
¡°I am much better,¡± Fathom rasped as he attempted to conduct himself with energy.
¡°I know you are worse, pretending you are better will not make me stay,¡± Pryce sighed. ¡°Tell me the truth, or I can¡¯t make good plans.¡±
Fathom drooped woefully, air wheezing out of his lungs as he groaned. ¡°I feel very bad,¡± he admitted in a rattling whisper. ¡°Head hurt, body hurt, breathing hurt, drinking water hurt.¡±
¡°Does your stomach hurt?¡± Pryce asked.
¡°No, stomach does not hurt, but I am not hungry. Why do you ask?¡±
¡°If humans eat too much antibiotics, our stomachs hurt. You are sick, so I give you antibiotics, but you are not healed, so I give you more and more, and I maybe give you too much, but you are still sick¡I don¡¯t know,¡± Pryce said dejectedly, looking down at the dose of medicine in his hands.
¡°I hear you¡make things outside¡¡± Fathom wheezed laboriously. ¡°How much penicillin¡do you have left?¡±
¡°After you eat this, I have 180 grams left,¡± Pryce said, not bothering to hide the fact that he had been preparing to leave. He¡¯d made some progress using rope to secure logs to a great shell he had found, large enough to comfortably sit him. He also began work on making two oars to steer the ¡®boat¡¯ with.
¡°After I eat all penicillin ¡if I do not get better¡you go to your ship to get more?¡± Fathom asked tiredly.
Pryce nodded in response.
¡°You can not go¡you will die,¡± Fathom repeated helplessly, then slowly turned to his own wounds. ¡°I can not stop you, you promise you will not go?¡±
Pryce smiled sadly, ¡°You know I will not do that.¡±
Fathom took a deep breath as if he had expected this before downing his medicine. ¡°Then I will get better,¡± the dragon said resolutely.
[JOURNAL ENTRY]
Day 48,
Fathom shows no signs of recovery, I have begun construction on a raft that can take me to the ocean using a shell from a black tortoise and wooden logs fastened to its sides, from there I will be able to board The Horizon and bring her to the base of the mountain.
This is all much easier said than done, of course, and there is a good chance I will be killed by some predator, but I can¡¯t think of a better plan of action.
If Fathom does not improve by the morning of Day 50, I will attempt to return to my ship.
[Day 49]
¡°Fathom, wake up,¡± Pryce said, medicine in one hand while the other gently patted the sleeping dragon¡¯s head. ¡°Come on, it¡¯s time to eat your medicine,¡± he added, scratching some scales in an attempt to wake him up.
¡°Fathom?¡± Pryce asked, a little worried now. The dragon¡¯s breathing was strained, but he was definitely still breathing. Next, he tried splashing water onto Fathom¡¯s muzzle to wake him up, and even that only worked slowly, the dragon¡¯s great eyelids slowly sliding apart one at a time.
¡°How are you feeling?¡± Pryce asked, and Fathom groaned weakly in response.
Pryce pressed his hand against a bandage, feeling the warmth behind it. The infection was still strong, maybe warmer than yesterday.
It took a great amount of effort for Fathom to get up and take his medicine, and after he had done so he immediately collapsed into a miserable pile of scales without letting Pryce take his vitals. In this dimly lit cave the dragon appeared dull grey instead of his original deep blue and his hide sagged in loose folds where he had lost an unhealthy amount of weight. Pryce stood listening to Fathom rasp weakly in his sleep, his fists clenched tightly in apprehension. After a few minutes he turned from the grim sight to complete the construction of the boat.
Pryce had the idea to cut the pieces of wood so that they could wedge into each other, and then reinforce them with rope. However, the fact that his only tool was a machete combined with his complete lack of experience in woodworking resulted in him abandoning the idea after several failed attempts.
It was a requirement for all of the crewmen joining this expedition to learn a considerable number of knots, so Pryce did not have great difficulty securing the logs together such that they formed an angular loop around the shell; almost like a swim ring. Pryce didn¡¯t even have to secure the ring of wood to the shell, as the shell would be sitting deep inside of it.
Pryce carefully took the ring of wood and the shell separately to the beach so that he would not damage either one on the way down, then filled the bottom of the shell with rocks and sand. The ring of wood combined with the extra weight would keep the shell from tilting over, or so he hoped.
To test the raft, he tied a loop of rope around the shell and then secured the rope to a nearby tree before pushing it into the river. The river carried it downstream until the rope ran out of slack, and the force of tension pulled the makeshift boat back towards the beach.
Satisfied, Pryce tried this again, only with him inside of the boat. Another success.
Next, he repeated the experiment again, only with the extremely crude oars he made. They were so rough he had to wear gloves or else his hands would be full of splinters, but they allowed him some degree of control over the movement of the boat. He also tested out a long stick he brought to push against the bottom of the river, and that worked too.
The stick wouldn¡¯t be of much help if he got too close to the center of the river where he could no longer reach the bottom, but he could use the oars in that case.
Having tested everything he could think of for today, Pryce pulled the boat back ashore so that tides wouldn¡¯t wash it away, leaving the tether attached just in case.
[JOURNAL ENTRY]
This morning I had 180 grams of penicillin left which I¡¯ve split into two doses of 90 grams each.
Fathom¡¯s health continues to deteriorate. He could barely wake up to take his medicine today, I¡¯m worried I may already be too late, but there¡¯s nothing else I can do except to get more. I can only guess what quirk(s) of draconic biology make them resistant to antibiotics, in that case I can offset the problem by simply using a greater dosage. I hope.
Today I tested my boat, and it seems to work fine. It¡¯s just a massive shell sitting inside a ring of wood logs, but if it works, it works.
I will be leaving tomorrow morning if Fathom shows no signs of improvement.
Chapter 28, Day 50, Part 1: Fly in the Ointment
Pryce woke up from a restless sleep to realize that the ground was shaking, an earthquake, he realized with horror as the dust from the roof of the cave shook loose, dusting the floor with a thin layer of powder.
However the seismic activity did not intensify, instead the quaking died out in less than half a minute. Pryce breathed a sigh of relief; earthquakes were rare and devastating on the Mainland, but perhaps minor ones were more common here? The phenomenon was poorly understood, though one strength of the plate tectonics theory was that it could explain the cause of seismic activity, if not the origin.
He quickly went to check up on Fathom, who had slept through the quake. Pryce woke the dragon with great difficulty, and even when awake he only murmured incoherently no matter what Pryce tried to do.
Perhaps the minor earthquake was a good thing, the wildlife would be disturbed and the carnivores less likely to go hunting, meaning less trouble for him. Seeing as there was no point in delaying the venture, Pryce checked and double checked the only things he needed to bring, his water bottle, rifle, and its ammunition.
Regardless of the end result, this journey would not last long.
[JOURNAL ENTRY]
Day 50,
This may be my last entry; I¡¯m leaving it here in Fathom¡¯s home in case someone finds it someday. Perhaps Fathom might make a miraculous recovery. Maybe I should¡¯ve taught him how to read, but knowing him he¡¯d seek out other humans if given the chance. If he can get someone to read this to him, here¡¯s a message for Fathom:
Thank you for saving me that day, and also for bothering to talk to me every day after that. The past twelve years have not been kind to me, and I don¡¯t remember the last time I had so much fun as when I taught you all those things. So once again, thank you.
I¡¯ve been thinking that I¡¯m at least somewhat responsible for what happened, as you said Pathogen (the name I¡¯ve given the dragon you fought) seemed disappointed that you were still alive. If you had guarded your territory instead of talking to me for all those days, he may not have attacked so aggressively.
You¡¯d probably scold me for thinking that way, but I just can¡¯t help it. Also, I¡¯m dead now, so it¡¯s not like you can do anything to stop me.
I hope your wing and other injuries healed well without me removing the stitches.
Well, I was going to say more, but if someone¡¯s reading this to you then that means you¡¯ve met more humans anyway. I hope you get along with them. Be friends with them and help each other, but don¡¯t blindly trust them either; we can be¡not great, sometimes.
I¡¯ve left you the chronometer, do whatever you¡¯d like with it, it¡¯s yours now. Now that I think about it, the things on the ship weren¡¯t technically mine to give, so I suppose you¡¯d have to talk to the other humans about that.
Anyhow, it¡¯s time for me to go.
Fly well.
Your friend,
A. Pryce
¡°Fathom, are you awake?¡± Pryce asked, patting the dragon¡¯s head. Fathom¡¯s wheezing breath continued without any change, and Pryce gave up on rousing him. He did not try very hard for fear that the dragon would try to stop him by force, and felt a stab of guilt for this deception.
Pryce left all the dried and leftover meats he had left in front of the insensate dragon in case he got better, and pulled out the chronometer to look upon it for what might be the last time. Though the shell was dented and scratched, the engraved text was still easily legible.
Mk. 10 Wright Marine Chronometer
542,639
Pryce gently propped the nonfunctional device against a rock so that Fathom would not miss it. Before he left the cave, Pryce glanced back at the chronometer, then at Fathom, and closed his eyes to take a deep breath.
¡°See you soon.¡±
Pryce arrived at the river without incident and carefully examined the waters to make sure there weren¡¯t any predators lying in wait. He couldn¡¯t really see them in the dark waters even if there were any, so steeling his nerves he untethered the boat, pushing it into the water and vaulting aboard just as he had practiced yesterday. The river immediately began to carry him down its length, and he rowed to stay close to the shore where the water was hopefully too shallow for most creatures to traverse.
His brain decided now was a great time to point out how poetic it would be if he died in the same river where he buried his comrades, but he pushed that thought aside to count the seconds.
By counting he could approximate how far he had traveled, but he was so busy watching in all directions that he quickly lost track. It was a uniquely unnerving experience to know there were many dangers surrounding him, but none that he could see. Pryce was only one man, so he had to keep glancing in all directions for fear of anything sneaking up on him. The beach was empty and safer than the waters, but something could still attack him from there.
Soon he saw a group of crocodile heads sitting with their eyes just above the waterline. They didn¡¯t look very different from the ones he knew, perhaps a bit bigger at 3-4 meters, but that wasn¡¯t too surprising; crocodiles were an ancient type of animal that barely changed in hundreds of millions of years.
These animals left him alone, as they weren¡¯t huge, but Pryce stayed cautious anyway. He continued drifting down the river and occasionally saw hints of larger creatures in the river; the tip of a fin, the end of a tail, and large wakes that disappeared into the deep were all things he caught glimpses of every few minutes.
These sightings deeply unnerved him, and Pryce badly wanted to step on shore to walk the rest of the way, but he knew that path was likely more dangerous even if it seemed safer.
Perhaps twenty minutes into the journey, Pryce saw a shape lying on the beach and began to row deeper into the river to go around it. Once he got closer, he realized it was a massive crocodile and paddled faster; he couldn¡¯t see the entire body, but he estimated that it was at least 5 meters long.
He managed to pass the great reptile without colliding with it, though it turned to hiss at him before he drifted away. Pryce wasn¡¯t sure why they didn¡¯t pursue him, but perhaps they weren¡¯t hungry, or he was too strange. Many animals tended to have an instinct to avoid unusual things, at least for a little while.
He quickly paddled the boat back to the shallow waters, continuing to drift along for another few minutes before he hit something. This didn¡¯t worry Pryce too much, as the boat drifted close to the beach and sometimes bounced off of a stray rock, but this time what he had hit was not a rock, but another crocodile who reared out of the water to crunch down upon his makeshift boat.
Pryce stumbled backwards from the crocodile, the floor of the boat beneath him tilted as it was pulled down by the enormous reptile, and he clumsily jumped towards the beach, abandoning ship to scramble through the shallow water onto dry land. He turned back with rifle raised and saw the crocodile ¨C it had to be at least six meters long ¨C was still thrashing with the shell in its mouth, so Pryce turned to flee east down the river while the animal was occupied.
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
There was nothing to be gained by shooting it if it wasn¡¯t actively threatening his life, and Pryce slowed to a stop to check that the predator was not chasing him ¨C crocodiles were actually faster than humans, but it had not bothered to pursue him.
Pryce stopped to check his surroundings and recover his stamina. He had all 9 clips of 54 bullets on him, and he had not lost anything critical with the boat. He¡¯d been floating down the river for maybe half an hour, though it was difficult to tell time accurately from how nervous he was. If he was moving at 6 km/hr that simply meant he had traveled two kilometers. Of course, his internal clock was not at all reliable, and knowing the distance he had traversed didn¡¯t help him in any way, but it would have helped ease his mind to know how close he was to his objective.
Pryce began to walk at a brisk pace as he looked around him every few seconds. The shoreline here was sandy, but leaves, sticks, and other such debris littered the ground. He took some comfort in the fact that this background would make it difficult for raptors to sneak up upon him.
Another problem was the bugs, which were a constant nuisance. He had to devote a great amount of attention to batting them away in case their stings were venomous. He¡¯d already been bitten by smaller insects shortly after he arrived on this island, of course, and he was fortunate that none had posed a serious health risk.
He stopped moving when he thought he noticed movement in the trees. A herd of small, somewhat deer-like creatures were in the trees, and he was glad to see them since that meant there were probably no predators around, animals having much keener senses than he.
Pryce was a little unnerved when he saw the extra set of limbs folded against their backs, periodically one would extend these ¡®arms¡¯ to reach for some branches and bring it low enough for them to eat. A curious usage for limbs, Pryce wondered again why no larger animals had six limbs on the Mainland before shaking his head to focus on staying alert.
He continued to follow the river, and several more minutes later he saw the curve of the river give way to the ocean. Relieved, he picked up his pace and threw another token glance backwards, doing a double take as he saw something white in the forest.
The only animal Fathom mentioned that had that color were the white tigers, so that meant it was either a relatively harmless white animal, or Pryce was being stalked by a six-legged tiger. Judging by the approximate size of the creature hidden behind the foliage, it was the latter.
Pryce wasn''t sure what to do. He regretted starting the conflict with the raptors, regardless of their initial intent. What if this new species was just being cautious?
While he didn¡¯t want to be the aggressor, showing mercy to a mindless animal could easily end in death. It wasn''t just his life on the line, but Fathom''s as well, and the dragon had said that white tigers hunted in packs. They didn''t need a raptor''s intelligence to employ the tactic of using a diversion either, so he couldn''t give this one individual his undivided attention lest another one of its kind sneaked up on him.
Pryce considered firing a warning shot into the air, but that would mean only having 5 bullets left in this clip. Maybe he could exchange the clip after the warning shot?
He decided to walk backwards while paying attention to his surroundings, and the white colors moved with him as he steadily approached the ocean.
Heart pounding, Pryce frantically glanced around to try and see anything else stalking him, and he realized the miscellaneous sounds of the forest had gone silent.
A few hundred meters left to the ship now, Pryce could see it easily now that the trees were out of the way. He resisted the urge to run, and kept walking with his head swiveling around.
Two hundred meters to the ship, and he saw another white shape obscured by trees.
One hundred meters, and he thought he saw a third, but it might''ve been one large one.
Fifty meters, and his pace quickened involuntarily as he approached the ship.
He made it to the base of the ship without ceremony, opening the hatch and slamming it shut while three white figures sat behind the trees.
Pryce took a few moments to breathe, not quite believing that he had made it.
Pryce stepped onto the deck of the ship, feeling almost nostalgic at having returned to his temporary home. The first thing he did was to use the binoculars to peer into the forest. He still couldn''t make out any distinguishing characteristics, though he could see the white and black stripes occasionally moving through the dense foliage.
He gave up after a few minutes; the tigers were no longer a concern now that he was safely aboard the ship.
Then Pryce checked and re-checked all the bulkheads, making sure that if he tore a hole into the side of the ship it would not sink the entire vessel.
He took a few minutes to rig up a pulley in order to help him pull the crank that hoisted up the anchor. It was easy to advance the ratcheting mechanism with an 8:1 mechanical advantage, though it took some time to complete this task.
Without the anchor to hold the ship in place, all that kept the ship on the beach was the fact that the bow was embedded into the sand. Pryce spent another half hour to start the engines, causing thick smog to puff out of the great smokestacks. Once the engines were running Pryce used them to wriggle the ship side to side, steadily pulling it free from the beach it had been anchored on for 30 days.
The time he had (almost) crashed the ship into the beach was fresh in his mind as he let the ship drift away from shore. Once he had some distance, he cautiously directed it towards the entrance of the river at low speeds. He was grateful that the ship was designed to be steered by one person, but even still he was unable to control the ship very well as he was by no means a skilled helmsman.
The Horizon was 15 meters wide, so he wasn¡¯t exactly threading a needle by entering the 50-meter-wide river, but the incredible inertia of the ship made it a nerve-wracking experience. Even going slowly, he managed to somehow get too close to the shallows a few times, causing ear-piercing shrieks as the metal hull scraped against rock.
Pryce had no time to check if the ship was taking up water, all checks would have to wait until he reached his destination and dropped anchor. He felt a sense of satisfaction as a few crocodiles crawled out of the river to escape from the dreadful noise. Pryce saw that they had four legs as they fled, but he quickly refocused onto his task of not sinking the ship.
Some parts of the river were wider, some were narrower, but Pryce managed to get through them. He tried not to think about how much damage the poor Horizon was accumulating, though that was difficult when the entire ship groaned under him.
Perhaps an hour or two later, Pryce finally reached the shore where he had departed. He let the river kill the momentum of the ship, then revved up the engines one last time to slowly land the ship onto the beach. Pryce dropped the anchors the moment the ship came to a halt, then dashed to the lower levels of the ship to check for damage.
Using a lantern for light, he spent another few hours thoroughly combing the walls for any signs of leakage, though he found none. The hull bulged inwards in several places, but not enough to be at risk of letting in water. He had no way to diagnose the outside of the hull which had to be in much worse condition, but that wasn¡¯t very important at the moment.
The next thing Pryce did was to scan the surrounding area from the safety of the ship, frequently glancing at the skies so that he wouldn¡¯t get picked off the ship by a phoenix so close to the end. Several minutes of careful inspection later he was satisfied that nothing was near the ship, at least not in his line of sight.
He returned to the wheelhouse and was about to turn off the ship¡¯s engines when the foghorn¡¯s dangling pullcord brought a smile to his face.
Pryce stuffed the rest of the penicillin along with the medical supplies he might need into a bag, then freed the ship¡¯s chronometer from its home for his personal use. The Mark 9 chronometer was almost too large to be held in the palm of his hand, and rather awkward to use, but it was just as accurate as his Mark 10 had been.
Then he covered his ears and blared the foghorn five times before shutting down The Horizon¡¯s engines.
Satisfied that the deafening noise would¡¯ve scared off any animal in a few hundred meters, Pryce opened both doors to cautiously peek outside the hatch, rifle raised. Seeing nothing amiss, he shifted the weighty backpack to be more comfortable before heading back up the mountain.
To his surprise, he saw Fathom dragging himself from the cave entrance to look down on him. Pryce was relieved to see him doing better, but also a little irritated that the dragon had strained himself so unnecessarily. Then again, it was probably his fault for blowing the foghorn; he could see that being a cause for alarm, even for a dragon.
He raised his arm to wave at Fathom, and two things happened at once.
First, several white blurs leapt out from their hiding places behind boulders, and at the same time Fathom roared, his voice quavering before giving out altogether ¨C but it was enough. The white tigers dug their six limbs into the ground and bolted into the opposite direction, leaving Pryce aiming at thin air.
He had only seen them for a brief glimpse, but the white-striped, sixed-limbed creatures only bore a passing similarity to tigers, as their heads seemed to have more in common with bears than any feline.
Focusing on the last few meters, Pryce quickly scrambled his way up the rest of the mountain towards Fathom, who was panting and wheezing from his exertion.
¡°Thank you,¡± Pryce gasped as he approached the dragon.
¡°You-¡¡± Fathom weakly croaked. He tried to speak again but quickly gave up, clutching his throat in pain.
¡°We can talk later, are you feeling better?¡± Pryce asked, wondering if he should increase the dosage.
Fathom instinctively tried to talk again before wincing, then he raised a foreclaw to point his thumb a little above horizontal.
¡°A little better?¡±
The thumb pointed up.
¡°Alright, that¡¯s good. I¡¯ll give you 80 grams, and if you stop getting better, I¡¯ll give you more.¡±
Fathom brought his closed fist towards Pryce, then opened his talons to reveal the chronometer.
Pryce raised an eyebrow in surprise. A second later he pocketed the device, glad to feel the comforting weight on his person once more. "Thanks-"
Fathom lightly flicked Pryce with the backside of a talon.
¡°Ow! What was that for-¡± Pryce cried, looking up to see the dragon glowering at him. ¡°¡yeah, okay, I''m sorry,¡± he muttered, rubbing his head.
Fathom snorted austerely, but then his gaze softened, and he nudged Pryce gently to rasp, "Thank...you..."
Chapter 29, Day 50, Part 2: Communications
Pryce gave Fathom another dose of penicillin before spending the rest of the day treating the dragon¡¯s wounds. This entailed making some more stalagmite soup, which Pryce was currently boiling. Once he was sure the solution was sterilized, he cooled it off and added the medicine before bringing it to Fathom.
¡°Smoke¡bad¡¡± Fathom wheezed when Pryce had entered his ¡®bedroom¡¯. The dragon had said he did not feel that he needed to rest in the river since his fever had weakened.
¡°Hmm? What do you mean?¡± Pryce asked, confused. He only smelled a hint of smoke in the cave, it couldn¡¯t be irritating Fathom, could it?
¡°Fire¡too¡close¡¡± Fathom rasped, a little frustrated.
¡°Oh, okay, I¡¯ll make fire farther away,¡± Pryce acquiesced. Did dragons have sensitive lungs? It would make sense if they had highly efficient respiratory systems, like how birds were used to detect toxic fumes deep in mines. The previous times he had boiled limestone dust he had made the fire further away from the river where Fathom rested, so he supposed it did not bother him then.
Now that he had access to all of the medical supplies on the ship, he didn¡¯t have to worry about which injuries to use his supplies on. After Fathom took his medicine, Pryce began to remove the dirty bandages so that he could clean the partially healed wounds.
Some minor damage had healed well, but others had festered, and Pryce took a great amount of time cleaning these infected wounds before applying the ointment. He also took satisfaction in being able to finally stitch all the wounds that required stitching, though Fathom was less satisfied with this development.
Pryce checked up on the broken wing finger and was relieved to see that the metal rods were still in place, and that the bone was still straight. Overall, the dragon seemed to be healing the damage quite well given how sick he was.
There was a sort of uncomfortable silence between them as Pryce worked. He wasn¡¯t sure what he¡¯d done that specifically angered Fathom, but he also couldn¡¯t ask the dragon while his throat was in pain.
The sun had almost set by the time Pryce had finished administering medical treatment.
¡°Okay, I¡¯m done,¡± Pryce said, securing the last bandage with tape. ¡°Now, I think we need to talk.¡±
Fathom grunted. His throat might be raw, but he could still communicate, especially with gestures.
¡°I¡¯m not sure if you are mad because I went back to my ship without saying goodbye, or because I gave you the chronometer.¡±
Two grunts.
¡°Both?¡±
Fathom tilted his head, then drew one small ¡®!¡¯ followed by a bigger ¡®!¡¯.
¡°Both, but more yes for the second one?¡± Pryce surmised.
A nod.
¡°Was it because I¡¡± He trailed off, not sure how to convey this question in words that Fathom knew. ¡°Was it because¡I think I will die if I try to go back to ship?¡±
Fathom bobbed his head stiffly.
Pryce sighed. ¡°I try to wake you up, but you did not wake up. I have to go to ship to get more medicine,¡± Pryce explained, but he knew this was not the whole truth.
Fathom rumbled in thought as he considered this, but guilt made Pryce add, ¡°I did not try very much to wake you, because if you were awake then you maybe try to stop me.¡± Fathom let out a huff at this, as if it were obvious. ¡°If you try to stop me, maybe you hurt yourself, but I also did not want to tell you because¡I did not want to say goodbye to you,¡± Pryce admitted somewhat crudely, but it was more or less true.
Fathom sighed, looking as though he wanted to say something but ultimately set his head back down upon his bed of animal pelts, some of which seemed to be from white tigers.
¡°You probably have some questions,¡± Pryce guessed. ¡°I brought things with me from ship, like medicine for your cough,¡± he said, demonstrating what a cough was so that Fathom understood.
He let Fathom drink half the bottle of cough syrup, and the dragon was surprised by the fact that it didn¡¯t taste horrible.
¡°This is¡not bad,¡± he had said in a voice much less strained. The dragon eyed the rest of the bottle hard enough to make Pryce pocket the bottle for fear he would try and drink the rest. ¡°This is alcohol?¡±
¡°Yes, this has alcohol in it. It helps you feel better,¡± Pryce explained.
¡°Yes,¡± Fathom agreed. ¡°Can I have more?¡±
¡°Later,¡± Pryce said. ¡°What did you want to ask me?¡±
Fathom narrowed his eyes as he remembered he was supposed to be cross with Pryce. ¡°You leave chronometer, you do not think you come back, you think you will die,¡± he accused harshly, though his voice was still hoarse.
¡°¡a little?¡± Pryce said, making a so-so gesture.
Fathom growled, ¡°You are¡thing that makes me a little angry!¡±
¡°I am¡irritating?¡± Pryce suggested sheepishly.
¡°You are irritating!¡± Fathom continued as if he had not stopped, ¡°I know you help me, but I do not understand, why you almost die to help me? Do you not want to live?¡± His voice strained as he asked this string of questions.
Pryce froze at the last question before slowly dropping his gaze. ¡°Some things I need to do. Not important if I die, I still need to do it.¡±
Fathom drew his head back a little, baffled by this explanation. ¡°¡all dragons want to live more than all other things.¡±
¡°Do dragons die for promises?¡± Pryce asked, eyebrow raised.
¡°¡some dragons¡yes,¡± Fathom rumbled uncertainly, aware that he was contradicting himself. ¡°If dragon dies for a promise, other dragons think that dragon is¡good. But some break promise to live.¡±
¡°Honorable. People who die to keep promise is honorable.¡±
¡°Humans are¡honorable?¡±
¡°Some humans, yes,¡± Pryce said, echoing Fathom¡¯s own answer.
¡°You¡help me because¡.you make promise?¡± Fathom asked, blinking in confusion.
¡°Yes, and no,¡± Pryce said. ¡°The word for healer is ¡®doctor¡¯, and I was a surgeon, surgeons are a type of doctor that cut people to make them heal better, like I did for you. All doctors make a promise to heal all people they can,¡± he sighed.
¡°That is yes, why you say no?¡±
¡°I¡broke my promise, I stopped being a surgeon,¡± Pryce confessed hesitantly. ¡°Surgeons help many people, but many people also die from infection. I hate seeing people die, so I stopped being a surgeon to learn many things about cells and bacteria, I wanted to find something that can kill infection. You know what happened after that,¡± he said dejectedly.
Stolen story; please report.
¡°This makes sense,¡± Fathom said easily.
¡°What?¡± Pryce asked, confused. ¡°But I broke my promise, you don¡¯t think that¡¯s bad?¡±
¡°No, you said antibiotics help heal millions of people, yes?¡± Fathom asked, unsure of what Pryce was trying to say. ¡°That is¡many more people than people you can heal if you not stop being a surgeon, so you keep promise, help heal all people you can.¡±
¡°But¡I stopped being a surgeon because I hated seeing people die, I stopped helping people because I was¡weak,¡± Pryce admitted, low.
¡°If you are not weak, many millions of people die, and I die,¡± Fathom said impatiently. ¡°What you think is not important, what you do is important.¡±
¡°That is¡not always true,¡± Pryce said.
¡°Yes, but it is true now,¡± Fathom dismissed. ¡°You want to help many people, and that is what you did,¡± he said, looking at Pryce to see if he would disagree. When he did not, Fathom sighed. ¡°I know you do not want people to die, but¡why do you want this so much?¡±
¡°Oh right, well¡¡± Pryce frowned, not sure how to explain. ¡°Every person can do something, every person can help other people, so the more people we have, the more things we can do.¡±
¡°¡¯Things you can do?¡¯¡± Fathom echoed, not understanding what Pryce was referring to.
¡°Like¡ship, many people make ship,¡± Pryce gestured, wondering if he should show Fathom pictures of buildings and monuments humans have created. ¡°Together we are better, we can make many things and learn many things.¡±
¡°You help other humans to¡help your self?¡± Fathom blinked at this alien concept.
¡°Yes, you can think of it like that,¡± Pryce nodded. ¡°A second reason is that I think it¡¯s¡very bad for people to live and then die for no reason. Some people die from very small scratch that becomes infection.¡±
¡°But reason is infection?¡±
¡°By ¡®no reason¡¯ I mean ¡®no good reason¡¯,¡± Pryce clarified.
¡°¡Like Abyss,¡± Fathom murmured, lowering his head.
¡°Yes,¡± Pryce said sadly. ¡°People all die some day in the future, I don¡¯t want anyone to die for no reason.¡±
¡°Do you want people to¡die with reason?¡± Fathom¡¯s spines twitched, baffled.
¡°Er¡no?¡± Pryce said, rubbing his head. He¡¯d meant ¡®Everyone deserves a chance to live¡¯, but he wasn¡¯t sure how to phrase that. ¡°I don¡¯t want anyone to die, but that cannot happen, so I try to help make less people die for no reason.¡±
¡°¡then¡you¡?¡± Fathom asked, struggling to find the right words. ¡°I do not understand, you say you do not want anyone to die¡but you think it is good if you die with reason?¡±
Pryce stood speechless for a few moments, then sighed. ¡°Like I said before, I do what I need to do, it is not important if it¡¯s dangerous.¡±
They were both silent for a few moments, until Fathom eventually said, ¡°¡I think I understand you now. You are not weak.¡±
¡°Oh¡thank you?¡± Pryce said, unsure of how to answer. The dragon sounded like he was making an observation rather than a compliment.
¡°But you are still confusing, there are no dragons that do things like you,¡± Fathom snorted, awkwardly tossing his head so that he did not pull on his stitches.
¡°I¡¯m not a dragon,¡± Pryce said, smiling a little.
¡°¡No, you are not,¡± Fathom said, his tone indecipherable.
Pryce took a moment to summarize his thoughts. ¡°So, you don¡¯t like me almost dying to help you, because dragons don¡¯t help each other like that.¡±
Fathom nodded.
¡°But I needed to get antibiotics, what did you want me to do?¡±
¡°Take chronometer with you.¡±
¡°¡that¡¯s everything you wanted me to do?¡± Pryce blinked.
¡°Yes, most things you do I understand, but I do not like that you think you will die,¡± Fathom said. ¡°You also leave to go to ship and did not tell me,¡± he added a little crossly.
¡°Alright, I¡¯ll promise I¡¯ll tell you next time I do something stupid.¡±
Fathom settled back down and rumbled, moderately appeased. ¡°I am tired, and a little hungry. Do you have food?¡±
It was frustrating to have The Horizon so close and yet so far, Pryce wasn¡¯t going to risk going to get supplies when they weren¡¯t necessary, but he did very much want to get some more food. Fathom¡¯s wounds were healing nicely, so it wouldn¡¯t be long until he could accompany Pryce to the ship.
Until then, Pryce would have to rely on what unappetizing rations he had brought with him on his last trip. He¡¯d made some soup out of bouillon cubes, which was nice, though Fathom had wanted to try some. His ¡®some¡¯ was most of the pot, and Pryce ended up only having a few mouthfuls to go with his bread.
After that the dragon had demanded (using very few words) more soup, and Pryce had to make another batch at Fathom¡¯s insistence.
¡°Done?¡± Fathom asked upon seeing Pryce dump the diced potatoes into the boiling pot.
¡°No, ten minutes from now.¡±
¡°First soup faster.¡±
¡°First soup didn¡¯t have potatoes.¡±
Fathom grumbled, glaring at the cubes as they bubbled around the pot.
Pryce sat waiting for the potatoes to cook, and lost track of time as he thought about the events that had occurred that day. He turned his head to look in the direction of a strange noise outside the caves; it sounded like a distant howl of some kind, though he had no idea what kind of animal would make such a noise.
¡°What animal is that?¡±
¡°I do not know.¡±
Pryce turned to look at him. ¡°How do you not know?¡±
Fathom tried to ruffle his wings before remembering one was chained shut. ¡°This animal only make noise at night, and not if I am close.¡±
¡°¡makes sense,¡± Pryce said, shifting the pot off the fire to let it cool against the rock, then looked back outside. He turned back to ask Fathom what he thought the animal might be, only to see Fathom freeze in the middle of reaching for the pot.
¡°¡What are you doing?¡±
¡°Drinking soup?¡± Fathom said, though it came out more like a question.
Pryce sighed, smiling a little, ¡°Fine, you can have the soup, just let me have a little bit first.¡±
[JOURNAL ENTRY]
Day 50,
Well, I¡¯m not dead, so that¡¯s good.
The journey was quite dangerous, and I lucked out in some places. I imagine the white tigers stalked me to try and see if I would lead them to more of my kind, but thankfully that worked in my favor.
Despite all my precautions, it seems I was not thorough enough¡but looking back, I¡¯m not quite sure what I could have done differently. I could not have seen the tigers, and waiting would not have benefited me. I wonder if I did everything I could, or is there something I am missing? It is true that sometimes you can do everything right and still lose, but that does not help me prepare for next time, though I sincerely hope there will not be a next time.
It is very strange that they did not flee from the foghorn, virtually all animals are startled by loud noises. Perhaps they had fled, but circled back? That implies curiosity and intelligence, but I cannot say if they are merely cunning or truly sapient animals.
Fathom is beginning to recover, much to my relief. I¡¯ve given him two doses of 80 grams today; I was conflicted on how much to dose him now that I have two kilograms of penicillin to use, but I believe it¡¯s possible that 80 grams is sufficient. Penicillin takes 2-3 days to take effect, and I had only dosed Fathom 80 grams for 2 days, with today being the third.
If Fathom does not show signs of improvement tomorrow, I will increase the dosage by some amount, but I don¡¯t think that will be necessary.
It has been nine days since he received his injuries, and I¡¯m not sure how long they will take to fully heal, but stitches are usually taken out in fourteen days at the latest. I¡¯ll keep an eye on the state of the injuries, but I should be able to remove the stitches in a few days.
However, his wing-bone will take much longer. I would prefer to wait at least a month before removing the rod holding it in place, but I¡¯m not sure how well Fathom would handle being grounded for so long.
As for the dragon himself, Fathom had some difficulties understanding my choices, but we¡¯ve since reached an understanding. Despite this, it is difficult to explain things well when our cultures are so different. For example, the concept of selflessness appears to be alien for dragons, as their culture places so much focus on trade and ¡®earning¡¯ things. I also have the feeling his pride doesn¡¯t like the fact that he¡¯s been saved by a tiny human, but he doesn¡¯t seem to be bothered as much by that.
I suppose it makes sense that he¡¯s conflicted; imagine living your entire life expecting everything to have a price, then this strange creature shows up and keeps giving you things and helping you without asking for much of anything in return. It would make one quite uncomfortable, much like leaving a debt unpaid.
I think he does not think of the time he saved me from the raptors to be of significance, as he did not really risk his health. I wonder if convincing him otherwise would make him feel better?
At least we have plenty of time to iron out the wrinkles in our ability to communicate, his knowledge of the past tense especially needs work, and I¡¯m sure he¡¯ll markedly improve in a day or two.
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Vitals signs, noon of Day 50:
Respiratory rate: 10 bpm
Temperature: 31.18 degrees[1]
Major HR: 43 bpm
Upper minor HR: 7 bpm
Lower minor HR: 7 bpm
Hydrogen HR: 5 bpm
Pupil dilation: Responsive
|
Vitals signs, sunset of Day 50:
Respiratory rate: 9.5 bpm
Temperature: 30.77 degrees[2]
Major HR: 40 bpm
Upper minor HR: 6.5 bpm
Lower minor HR: 6.5 bpm
Hydrogen HR: 5 bpm
Pupil dilation: Responsive
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Chapter 30, Day 51 – 52: In the Eye of the Beholder
Fathom woke up feeling much better, though he voiced some irritation at Pryce insisting on recording his vital signs.
¡°I am better, why do you need to do this?¡± He asked impatiently.
¡°You are not much better, and I am doing this so I learn how fast you get better, then I know how fast dragons get better after being sick,¡± Pryce said, not for the first time. He ignored the rest of the dragon¡¯s protests and looked at the data; Fathom was swiftly returning to more reasonable numbers; it seemed his fever was mostly over.
Fathom watched warily as Pryce prepared another dose of medicine.
¡°I do not need to take medicine, I am better,¡± he insisted.
¡°If you stop taking antibiotics after you start feeling better the fever will come back and you will probably die,¡± Pryce scolded. ¡°Take your medicine.¡±
Fathom reluctantly obeyed, shuddering as he drank the familiar concoction.
¡°How much do your wounds hurt?¡± Pryce asked when Fathom had finished.
¡°Better, but still hurts.¡±
¡°How many days until you think you can climb down to the beach?¡± Pryce asked. ¡°I want to take things from the ship like food, but I need your help.¡±
Fathom perked up upon hearing the last part, and Pryce belatedly realized he probably should not have mentioned that.
¡°Food like soup?¡± Fathom asked hopefully, confirming his suspicions.
¡°Yes, food like soup,¡± Pryce sighed, ¡°But don¡¯t tell me you can go soon like today, or I won¡¯t go until ten days from now.¡±
Fathom closed his mouth, having evidently been about to do just that. ¡°¡Five¡days?¡± He said, looking at Pryce sidelong to see how this answer would be taken.
¡°Okay, that¡¯s good. I¡¯ll take out your stitches in five days.¡±
¡°I can fly in five days?¡± Fathom asked skeptically, glancing at his chain-bound limb.
¡°Oh no, sorry, I mean most of the stitches in your body, not wings,¡± Pryce amended, making Fathom¡¯s spines fall slightly in disappointment. ¡°How long does it take for dragon wing-bones to heal?¡±
Fathom shrugged awkwardly. ¡°Maybe thirty days for bone to not move, sixty days for bone to be strong? Dragon bones almost never break, only wing bones sometimes break. How long does it take for human bones to heal?¡± Fathom asked curiously.
¡°Same, thirty to sixty days, sometimes bad breaks take longer,¡± Pryce said, then paused. ¡°Do dragons have a word for thirty days? Is it a moon?¡±
¡°Yes, word is like word for ¡®moon¡¯. What is human word for this?¡±
¡°One month,¡± Pryce answered. It wasn¡¯t surprising that dragons would have the same concept, it was pretty obvious after all. ¡°What do dragons think the moon is?¡± Pryce asked curiously.
¡°We don¡¯t know,¡± Fathom said simply.
¡°You¡don¡¯t know?¡± That was odd, all sorts of ancient cultures had explanations for what the moon was.
¡°It glow like weak sun, but look like rock, and sometimes it change color. It is very strange,¡± Fathom said, then paused. ¡°I am tired, but you can explain this later, yes?¡± He asked, seemingly excited and drowsy at the same time.
¡°Yes, of course I can,¡± Pryce grinned.
Fathom rumbled, pleased. He turned to go take a nap, but abruptly stopped to turnaround and ask, ¡°I forgot to ask, why did you leave your book with chronometer?¡±
¡°Oh, that¡¯s my journal, I write things I think about in my journal. I thought maybe if I¡die, you can give it to another human, and they can¡read it to you?¡± Pryce explained, realizing Fathom may not appreciate this species of defeatism.
But the dragon only tilted his head at this, ¡°You did not die, so you can read this to me now?¡±
¡°¡No,¡± Pryce said, remembering the rather embarrassing contents of his ¡®final¡¯ message.
¡°Why? You want me to hear these words, yes?¡± Fathom asked, blinking in confusion. ¡°You want other humans to read your words to me, but you do not to read your words to me?¡±
¡°¡Yes?¡± Pryce said sheepishly.
¡°I do not understand,¡± the dragon huffed. ¡°Read words you write for me, and I will¡forgive you?¡± Fathom said experimentally.
¡°No, no,¡± Pryce rebuffed, desperately hoping to nip this in the bud. ¡°I went to ship to save your life, you can¡¯t do that,¡± he protested weakly.
Fathom made a chuffing noise, his spines slowly flared in what Pryce feared was a smile. ¡°Read it to me,¡± the dragon cajoled, detecting weakness.
¡°No,¡± Pryce tried to say firmly.
¡°Read it to me.¡±
¡°No!¡±
¡°Read it to me!¡±
¡°I am not reading it to you! And weren¡¯t you tired?!¡±
¡°¡Fly well. Your friend, A. Pryce,¡± Pryce read, his ears burning with embarrassment as he finished reading his entry.
¡°I do not know many of these words,¡± Fathom said, clearly dissatisfied.
¡°You didn¡¯t ask me to teach you these words, you only asked me to read it to you,¡± Pryce said, taking what little refuge he could behind this piece of literalism.
¡°¡Okay, I forgive you,¡± Fathom rumbled, standing up with some difficulty.
¡°Great,¡± Pryce said shamefacedly.
Fathom rumbled in amusement, then turned towards his cave before glancing back and saying, ¡°I go to sleep now, friend.¡±
¡°Yes, yes,¡± Pryce said, waving dismissively as he failed to suppress a twitch of a smile.
[JOURNAL ENTRY]
Day 51,
Fathom¡¯s vital signs continue to improve, though he insisted that I only measure them once per day. He reports that he feels much better, though he is still lethargic. We didn¡¯t do much today, though Fathom has expressed that he wishes to learn what humans know about the moon.
The scaly bastard also coerced me to read the last journal entry I wrote before leaving for The Horizon, but in exchange he¡¯s forgiven me for my slight against him. Fair enough, I suppose.
He has since spent the rest of the day napping, and I hunted one of the strange hexapedal deer-like creatures that I saw yesterday; it must have separated from the herd and wandered up the mountain. This animal has strange flaps of skin on its lower back that appears to be capable of opening up, revealing a sort of white tuft; perhaps it¡¯s for attracting a mate or for communicative purposes[2].
I wish I had the globe with me, but I can make do with the things I have on hand.
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|
Vitals signs, sunrise of Day 51:
Respiratory rate: 7 bpm
Temperature: 30.75 degrees[3]
Major HR: 35 bpm
Upper minor HR: 6 bpm
Lower minor HR: 6 bpm
Hydrogen HR: 5 bpm
Pupil dilation: Responsive
|
[Day 52]
Fathom woke up more easily, and said he was starting to feel much better. Pryce was satisfied with the progression of his health, so he had prepared a long lesson today.
¡°The moon is round, like the Earth, but the moon goes around the Earth, like the Earth goes around the sun.¡±
¡°We know this, one dragon long time ago see rock in sunlight, then she understand that the moon change shape because it is like round rock in sunlight,¡± Fathom said. ¡°But moon always looks the same. It needs to spin not too fast and not too slow; we do not know why this is.¡±
¡°That makes sense,¡± Pryce nodded. ¡°The answer is very complicated. A long time ago, the moon did spin faster, but Earth¡¯s gravity pulls on moon and slows it down until it spins at the speed it has today. We have much math to prove this, but I do not know it,¡± he said apologetically. ¡°But I can show you how we calculated the size and distance of the moon.¡±
¡°You do this like how you calculate distance of sun?¡± Fathom guessed, his tail-tip twitching in anticipation.
¡°Good guess, but no,¡± Pryce said, laying out a few sticks so that they radiated from a grey rock. He belatedly realized that he had not yet explained the nature of light to Fathom. ¡°What do dragons think light is?¡±
¡°Light is¡light. Like rock, like water, light is thing that exists,¡± Fathom shrugged.
Dragons didn¡¯t have a theory on the nature of light? Well, to be fair it was a rather abstract concept. ¡°The word for small things is called ¡®particles¡¯, and we call the particles that are light ¡®photons¡¯.¡±
¡°Light is small things? Like¡water and rain?¡±
¡°Yes,¡± Pryce said approvingly, picking up his water bottle to pour some onto his cupped hand. ¡°These are droplets,¡± he explained, letting the beads of water drip from his fingers.
Fathom stared intently at the liquid, thinking. ¡°I can no see light particles, they must be¡very small?¡±
¡°Yes, they are very small. I don¡¯t know how small, different photons have different sizes, but they are all very small.¡±
¡°I understand.¡±
Pryce knew that photons are particles that behave as a wave, but that was unlikely to come up for a long time and it would only confuse Fathom. ¡°Photons always move in straight lines, like these sticks,¡± Pryce gestured to his diagram. ¡°Moon is like this rock, moon is much smaller than sun, so light from moon is not all straight. We call lines that do not touch each other parallel lines.¡±
¡°I understand, your math will not work if light is not all straight.¡±
¡°Yes, exactly. The moon sometimes becomes red and black for a few minutes, yes?¡±
¡°Yes, we do not know what causes this.¡±
¡°The Earth is in front of the moon,¡± Pryce said, bringing a fist over the rock so that it was covered by a partial shadow. ¡°Black part is Earth¡¯s shadow, what do you think causes the red?¡± He quizzed, curious to see if Fathom could solve this problem.
¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± Fathom chuffed, a noise that sounded vague akin to a human scoff.
¡°I told you things, you have everything you need to find the answer,¡± Pryce said, crossing his arms.
Fathom was quiet for a minute, and Pryce realized he had perhaps lied without meaning to. ¡°Light goes straight, but it can bend in some things like glass, water, and air,¡± he hinted.
¡°Light can bend in air?¡± Fathom asked, confused. ¡°I do not see light bending.¡±
¡°It bends a little bit in air,¡± Pryce said.
Fathom hummed in thought, then asked, ¡°Light from sunset is red, light from sunset go to moon?¡±
¡°Yes!¡± Pryce grinned. ¡°Light bends in air, some colors bend more, and only red-light bends so much that it can go behind Earth.¡±
¡°Why is sky blue-purple and UV? Why is sky at sunset red and less UV?¡± Fathom asked, his great eyes shining in wonder at having this age-old mystery solved.
¡°Sky is¡blue-purple?¡± Pryce asked blankly.
¡°Yes? Sky is purple,¡± Fathom repeated, confused by his confusion.
¡°But the sky is just-¡± Pryce slapped his face, remembering Fathom saw different colors. His eyes were probably more or less sensitive to different colors of light than a human¡¯s eyes, and Pryce knew that human eyes were better at seeing blue than purple; that was half the reason why the sky was ¡®blue¡¯. ¡°Your eyes see things differently than my eyes,¡± Pryce said. ¡°But I know why sky is blue-purple and UV like you see.¡±
He picked up some pebbles and tossed them at the ground. ¡°When things hit ground like that, they go in many directions, this is called ¡®scattering¡¯. Light that is blue and purple is scattered by air. At noon the sun is high up in the sky, so light is scattered and hits your eyes, so you see them as blue-purple. At sunset all the blue-purple light is gone because light goes through much more air, and you see red. Makes sense?¡±
¡°This is complicated¡but I think it makes sense,¡± Fathom rumbled uncertainly.
¡°It¡¯s okay, this is not important for you to know right now. Remember how the moon can become black?¡±
¡°¡yes,¡± Fathom said after a delay, he still seemed distracted by the color of the sky. ¡°Earth¡¯s shadow causes moon to become black.¡±
¡°Yes, the shadow is the same size as Earth, and we know the circumference of Earth,¡± Pryce said, smiling.
¡°And you can find circumference of moon using Earth¡¯s shadow,¡± Fathom said in growing realization.
¡°Exactly!¡± Pryce confirmed with a grin, bringing out a notepad from his pocket to show Fathom a picture of a circle with a line drawn through it. ¡°This is a circle. The longest straight line you can draw in a circle is this, the diameter. Half of the diameter is the radius. Do dragons know how to get diameter from circumference?¡± Pryce asked curiously.
¡°Yes, divide circumference by a number like 3.15 to get diameter, is this right?¡±
¡°Mostly yes, but this is closer to 3.1416. It is called pi, and it has never-ending decimal places.¡±
¡°Yes, yes, what is diameter of the moon?¡± Fathom asked impatiently.
¡°Moon is around 3.5 times smaller than Earth in diameter, and Earth diameter is 12,758 kilometers, so moon diameter is around 3,645 kilometers,¡± Pryce read off of his notes. These values were a little off the official ones, but they were close enough. Modern day values were obtained via more sophisticated methods, but all of those were far more complicated.
¡°Amazing, the moon is very big,¡± the dragon breathed in wonder. ¡°How far away is moon?¡±
¡°That¡¯s easier,¡± Pryce said, flipping the notebook to show a sketch of one isosceles within the other, with the only difference being that one was bigger than the other.
¡°A triangle is a type of shape, like a square, but it has 3 sides. You can draw a triangle like this from your eyes to the coin, and you can draw another triangle from your eyes to the moon, do you understand this drawing?¡±
¡°Yes, but how do you use this to find moon distance?¡± Fathom asked, looking skeptically at Pryce as if he thought the human might be going on another tangent.
¡°This circle here,¡± Pryce said, ignoring the question, ¡°is a round thing like a coin. If you hold a coin close, it looks bigger than the moon, but if you hold it far away it will look smaller than the moon, understand?¡±
¡°¡yes?¡± Fathom said, still unsure where Pryce was going with this.
¡°If you hold a coin where the coin is the same size as the moon, then divide the coin distance by the coin diameter, you get a number called a ratio. If you divide the moon distance by the moon diameter, you get the same ratio. This is because these triangles are the same, one is just bigger than the other,¡± Pryce explained.
He could almost hear the gears turning in the dragon¡¯s head as he stared intently at the diagram. ¡°We can measure diameter and distance of coin, and if distance divided by diameter is the same for coin and moon, the only number we do not know is¡diameter,¡± Fathom said, sitting up in comprehension and then wincing as he pulled on the stitches somewhere.
¡°Easy there, sit down and I¡¯ll tell you,¡± Pryce said placatingly. Even still, he was impressed with the speed the dragon worked out the problem, especially if they didn''t have the concept of equations to organize their math. ¡°The moon is around 360,000 kilometers to 400,000 kilometers away.¡±
¡°Distance of the moon changes?¡± Fathom asked, noting the oddly wide range.
¡°Yes, the moon orbits Earth like this,¡± Pryce said, doodling an oval around a sphere. ¡°It gets closer here, and further away here,¡± he pointed at the perigee and apogee
[4] respectively.
¡°Amazing, this math is very easy, but very hard to find. No dragon learn this before,¡± Fathom sighed in a melancholic manner, looking up at the sky despite the fact that the moon was invisible right now.
¡°Wait, can you see the moon?¡± Pryce asked, looking up to see a sky spotted with clouds.
¡°No, not right now,¡± Fathom said, a little surprised by the question. ¡°¡It is very strange.¡±
¡°What is?¡± Pryce asked.
¡°Dragons can see farther than humans, can see more colors than humans, but humans can see¡more,¡±
¡°¡We didn¡¯t do it alone,¡± Pryce said, after a moment. ¡°Things I know are things I learned from other humans, many of these humans lived hundreds or thousands of years ago. We try things, and most of the time we fail, sometimes we succeed, but we always learn. We teach other humans what we learn, and they can succeed without failing.¡±
¡°Dragons teach and help hatchlings¡but we do not help each other, do not teach each other¡we just¡fight,¡± Fathom murmured, sounding a bit self-conscious.
¡°That¡¯s okay, I teach you, and you can teach other dragons.¡±
Fathom rumbled doubtfully at this, but did not voice any dissent. Instead he asked, ¡°Is there a word for humans failing, succeeding, and learning?¡±
¡°Yes,¡± Pryce smiled. ¡°It¡¯s called science.¡±
[JOURNAL ENTRY]
Day 52,
The symptoms of Fathom¡¯s fever have largely dissipated. Currently, his main problems are his injuries, and those will heal with time. His wing-bone is still held in place, so I¡¯m optimistic that it will heal well.
Fathom seems to be pretty amazed at the things humans can do, and while I share these feelings, I don¡¯t think they paint an entirely accurate picture of humans. Perhaps I should go over some history later once he is well enough to escort me to The Horizon.
Vitals signs, sunrise of Day 52:
Respiratory rate: 7 bpm
Temperature: 30.73 degrees[5]
Major HR: 35 bpm
Upper minor HR: 6 bpm
Lower minor HR: 6 bpm
Hydrogen HR: 5 bpm
Pupil dilation: Responsive
Chapter 31, Day 53: Guiding Light
Pryce decided to teach Fathom more about light while they were on the subject, but he had to introduce some other concepts.
"You know that sound has speed, right?"
"Yes, sound go very fast," Fathom nodded.
"How did dragons learn this?" Pryce asked, curious.
"If one dragon roars and another dragon far away roars back, then there is some time between roars. This will not happen if sound goes very very fast."
"What do you think sound is?" Pryce probed, ignoring the amusing thought of two dragons baffled by the minor time delay in their communications.
"Sound is..." Fathom sighed. "Do you need to ask me things? Can you not just tell me?"
"This is like trade, you give me your guess, I give you answer."
"You said humans give information, not trade information," huffed the dragon.
"Humans can do both, and you don''t learn as good if I just tell you answer. I want to see what you think."
Fathom rumbled in thought for a moment, then answered, "I think sound is not particle, like light. Some dragons think sound is like wind, but wind sometimes go fast, sometimes go slow," he spoke out loud slowly to gauge Pryce¡¯s reaction.
"Keep going," Pryce encouraged, stone-faced as to not give away any hints.
"Sound is not like ocean wave either, some wave go fast, some wave go slow, and speed of sound in water is much faster," Fathom said experimentally.
"Wait how do you know speed of sound is faster in water?" Pryce asked.
"We go underwater, hear sounds go very fast," Fathom stated obviously.
"...Right, but you float on water, how do dragons go under water?¡±
¡°How do you think we go underwater?¡± Fathom asked snidely.
Pryce chuckled, supposing that was fair. ¡°You can grab rocks and sink, but why do you go underwater? To hunt?¡±
¡°¡Yes,¡± Fathom grumbled, sounding a little disappointed that Pryce had guessed correctly so quickly. ¡°I do not know what sound is, is sound like ocean waves?¡±
¡°Close enough," Pryce shrugged. "Sounds are very much like ocean waves, so we call them sound waves, but they are not the same.¡±
¡°Dragons think speed of sound is maybe around 300 or 400 meters per second, is this right?¡± Fathom asked.
¡°340 meters per second, did they measure the speed of sound by roaring?¡± Pryce asked, wondering if they used a visual cue to time the events.
¡°Yes, one dragon roar and lift wings at same time, another dragon far away measures beats, but sound is very fast, hard to measure.¡±
¡°That makes sense,¡± Pryce said, then smiled. ¡°How fast do you think light is?"
¡°Light¡has speed?¡± Fathom blinked. ¡°Light does not reach thing in zero seconds?¡±
¡°No, when a number is so big that it does not end, it is called ¡®infinite¡¯, and the speed of light is not infinite,¡± Pryce explained. An astronomer centuries ago had found proof that the speed of light was finite when he realized the eclipses of the Jovian moons occurred sooner when Earth was closer, and later when Earth was further away. It made sense that dragons wouldn¡¯t know the speed of light was finite, because it was so fast that they had no cause to believe it was anything but instantaneous.
¡°Do you want to guess how we measured the speed of light?¡± Pryce asked amusedly. ¡°I¡¯ll give you a hint, which is like help; we used mirrors.¡±
¡°Mirrors¡¡± Fathom muttered. ¡°Did you use two mirrors to make light go long distance?¡±
¡°Good idea, but one human measured light over 100 years ago. We did not have very strong light at that time, and light gets weaker every time it hits a mirror.¡±
¡°Strong light?¡± Fathom asked.
¡°Yes, we have machines that make light much stronger than lantern light or fire light,¡± Pryce explained. They hadn¡¯t brought any on the ship because those devices were less reliable and required refined fuels, but the technology was not new. He also remembered that limestone could be made into lime, which shone very brightly when heated to high temperatures. Perhaps Fathom could help him with that experiment later.
¡°Do you want me to tell you?¡± Pryce asked five minutes later.
¡°No,¡± Fathom grunted stubbornly as he absently scratched lines into the ground.
¡°Do you want a hint?¡±
¡°¡¡±
Pryce took the prideful silence as an affirmative. ¡°I¡¯ll give you a hint, light hits a mirror three times, and only one mirror is moving.¡±
Fathom gave no indication that he heard, save for stopping all movement. ¡°One mirror is moving¡¡± He muttered, then pushed himself upwards with marginally less difficulty than he had a day ago. ¡°You stay here,¡± the dragon said, and returned a minute later with the mirror Pryce had given him.
Fathom was moving around more easily now, and Pryce didn¡¯t think the stitches were going to rip at this point in the healing process, so he let the dragon get what little exercise he could for now.
The mirror seemed rather small when held in Fathom¡¯s talons, and the dragon immediately used it to reflect a beam of sunlight across the ground. His eyes tracked the spot of light easily, even as he pivoted the mirror faster and faster.
Fathom mumbled something in his native tongue that Pryce could not understand, except for the word ¡®mirror¡¯.
¡°You said light hits a mirror three times, how many mirrors does the light hit?¡± He asked half an hour later, frustrated enough to ask for a hint.
¡°Two,¡± Pryce said, wondering in amazement if he was actually figuring it out.
¡°If I move this mirror into sun, sunlight will hit mirror and go there,¡± Fathom said, gesturing a projected path. ¡°If I have another mirror there, light will come back, then you can use time difference to measure speed of light?¡±
¡°When light hits a mirror, that is called ¡®reflect¡¯. Your idea is good, but light is too fast, this idea will not work.¡±
Fathom pondered this for a few moments, then proposed, ¡°What if I spin mirror very fast, light hit first mirror and reflect to second mirror, when light come back and hit mirror, mirror is spinning, so light will reflect in different direction?¡±
¡°Yes!¡± Pryce cheered, arms spread. ¡°This is how we measure light,¡± he said, showing the excited dragon his drawing of the setup.
Fathom couldn¡¯t read yet, so Pryce had to explain which parts of the diagram represented the mirrors and light, and how the left diagram occurred before the right diagram.
¡°There will be a small light here,¡± He said, tapping on the + in the right diagram. ¡°We know how fast the mirror spins, so we can know how much time has passed since light hit the first mirror. That time is how much time it takes for light to travel this distance,¡± Pryce traced the path from mirror #1, to mirror #2, back to mirror #1, and then finally to the + sign.
Later iterations of this experiment were a bit more complicated and more accurate, but the core principle was the same.
¡°¡How far is plus-word from where light start?¡± Fathom asked.
¡°I don¡¯t remember, but light is very fast. Distance from mirror #1 to mirror #2 is probably over a kilometer, and distance from where the light starts and where the light ends is probably less than a centimeter, even if the mirror is spinning hundreds of times per second.¡±
¡°I think I understand¡¡± Fathom trailed off, before bracing himself to ask, ¡°how fast is light?¡±
¡°The speed of light is around 299,800 kilometers per second[1].¡±
Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.
¡°T-two-hundred-ninety-nine thousand kilometers per second?¡± Fathom choked. ¡°This is two-hundred-ninety-nine million meters per second? Not per minute? Or hour?¡±
¡°Really fast, isn¡¯t it?¡± Pryce said, crossing his arms nostalgically as he remembered being in awe at the sheer speed of light when he had first learned it long ago. ¡°Light from the moon goes to Earth in 1.2 or 1.33 seconds.¡±
¡°Light¡yes, if light speed is not infinite, then¡sunlight takes time to go to Earth!¡± Fathom exclaimed, spines rising in dawning realization. ¡°How much time for sunlight to go to Earth?¡± He asked before Pryce could say anything.
¡°¡I was going to teach you how humans find distance between sun and Earth first,¡± Pryce sighed. ¡°But if you want to know right now, it takes sunlight 9 minutes to reach Earth at the soonest, and 9 minutes 18 seconds at the latest. That means Earth is 161 million kilometers to 167 million kilometers away from the sun.¡±
¡°¡but if sun is very far away, then it is-¡±
¡°Very big, yes,¡± Pryce finished for him. ¡°The sun has a diameter of 1.4 million kilometers.¡±
¡°I¡cannot understand this,¡± Fathom said faintly. ¡°The diameter of the sun is more than 109 times bigger than the diameter of Earth?¡±
¡°¡yes,¡± Pryce confirmed after a moment¡¯s thought.
Fathom took a deep, long breath, slumping as he did so.
¡°Are you okay¡?¡± Pryce asked.
Fathom tilted his head from side to side, something Pryce learned was the draconic equivalent of a disheartened shrug. ¡°Dragons fight for thousands of years, we gain treasures, trade treasures, and some of us have eggs¡but we do not know things. We do not know size and distance of moon and sun, we do not know what sound and light is,¡± He hung his head despondently. ¡°All we know is that sun is fire.¡±
¡°Well¡¡± Pryce was forced to awkwardly admit that the sun was not a giant ball of fire.
¡°What.¡±
¡°Humans think the sun was fire too, for long time. But we do science and know that Earth is more than one billion years old, so sun cannot be burning. If sun was burning, the fire would die in a few thousand years.¡±
¡°One billion years,¡± Fathom echoed, devoid of inflection.
¡°Ah¡um¡¡± Pryce stammered, not having intended to let that slip.
¡°The sun is not burning, dragons are not like the sun?¡±
¡°Well¡the sun is made of hydrogen, is that better?¡± Pryce asked weakly.
Fathom continued to stare blankly, so Pryce took that as a ¡®no¡¯.
¡°The sun is made of hydrogen that is very hot, hydrogen flames are around 1,700 degrees Centragrade[1], but the sun is around 4,500 degrees Centragrade[2],¡± Pryce tried to see if this would cheer him up.
The dragon perked up a little at this, so Pryce elaborated. ¡°You remember how we have solid, liquid, gas? If solid gets hotter, it becomes liquid. If liquid gets hotter, it becomes gas. If gas gets hotter, it becomes plasma. The sun is made of hydrogen that is plasma.¡±
¡°Sun is like¡more fire than fire?¡± Fathom said, looking cheered by this piece of information.
¡°It is much hotter than fire,¡± Pryce nodded.
¡°That is¡good. Better than what I think before,¡± Fathom said.
¡°Past tense of think is ¡®thought¡¯,¡± Pryce corrected. That one had been bugging him for a while, but there never seemed like a good time to bring it up.
Fathom flicked his spines in annoyance. ¡°Past tense of think is not thinked? English is stupid.¡±
¡°Yes, I know,¡± Pryce said drily. ¡°Also, don¡¯t feel bad about dragons not learning anything, humans are the same, we spend thousands of years learning very slowly and learning very little.¡± Fathom looked surprised at this, so Pryce added, ¡°Well, humans fight each other too. A lot,¡± he confessed. ¡°Probably more than dragons,¡± he added, which drew a skeptical gaze from Fathom.
¡°Humans fight?¡± Fathom asked, inspecting Pryce¡¯s comparatively diminutive frame with a doubtful eye.
¡°Yes, we fight. Even if we are very small, we fight a lot. Before I was born, there was a big fight, we call big fights wars. Hundreds of thousands of humans fight each other, and many millions of people die.¡± Those millions of deaths were technically a result of famine borne of war, but it was still the root cause.
¡°Millions die?¡± Fathom hissed, aghast. ¡°Why do humans fight?¡±
¡°Humans fight for territory, for treasures, and because one group of humans think another group of humans is bad, or that they think differently.¡±
¡°Think differently?¡± Fathom asked, confused by this last item.
Pryce hummed for a moment as he wondered how to explain ¡®religion¡¯.
¡°When something is true, it is a fact, but if someone only thinks something is true, it is a belief. Beliefs can be right or wrong, and humans have many different beliefs. Some humans believe in things that explain what made the world, or things that explain what happens to someone after death.¡±
¡°What?¡± Fathom asked, looking torn between which of the two statements to ask about first. ¡°There is a thing that happens after death?¡±
¡°Well, no, or at least I don¡¯t know,¡± Pryce shrugged. ¡°Science cannot find anything that happens after death. All science knows is that when someone dies, they are gone.¡±
¡°Yes, this make sense, dragons¡believe life is like fire. We believe when someone dies, it is like how a fire dies; it is gone¡.am I using this word right?¡±
¡°Yes, that¡¯s right,¡± Pryce nodded, unsurprised. Humans placed a great meaning in fire, and they couldn¡¯t even breathe it.
¡°Then¡what made the world?¡± Fathom asked, looking uncertain at this vague notion.
¡°Many people believe in things called ¡®gods¡¯, and they think that these gods created everything,¡± Pryce explained, and quickly added before Fathom could ask, ¡°Gods are not in this world, you cannot see or hear them, but humans believe in them anyway.¡±
¡°I do not understand any of this,¡± Fathom grumbled discontentedly. ¡°Dragons believe what we see; no one believes they know who created the world, and we do not care if someone thinks different. Why do people fight because of belief?¡± Fathom asked, tilting his head nearly sideways in confusion.
¡°I don¡¯t really know,¡± Pryce shrugged, smiling sadly. ¡°But maybe I shouldn¡¯t have mentioned beliefs; most wars were fought because people wanted more territory, more treasures, or more power.¡±
¡°That makes more sense, but what is power?¡±
¡°Power is hard to explain,¡± Pryce hummed, ¡°Power is anything that lets you do things. People who are strong, or people who know many things, or people who have many things can all have power.¡±
¡°¡in your journal, you said ¡®don¡¯t blindly trust them either; we can be not great sometimes.¡¯ What is ¡®blindly¡¯ and ¡®great¡¯?¡±
Pryce was used to the dragon¡¯s amazing memory by now, but he couldn''t help but be impressed ¨C and a little envious ¨C no matter how many times the dragon demonstrated it. ¡°Blind is when someone cannot see, like if they have scars on their eyes. Great means very good, or very big, or a lot.¡± Fathom shuddered upon hearing the former, blinking his own eyes sympathetically.
¡°You mean¡humans do bad things?¡± Fathom guessed.
¡°Sometimes. Some humans are very good, some humans are very bad. Most humans are okay.¡±
¡°If some humans are not very good, why do you want to help them so much?¡± Fathom asked, confused.
¡°¡I need new words. ¡®Chance¡¯ is the word for the time to do something, and ¡®deserve¡¯ means someone should have something.¡± Pryce said, wishing he had explained this word earlier. ¡°I think every person deserves the chance to be good.¡±
¡°Deserve¡this is a strange thing. What can people deserve?¡±
¡°Well, humans have lots of things we think people deserve to have, the more important ones are things like ¡®freedom¡¯, which means no one can make you stay in one place, or do what you do not want to do.¡±
¡°Humans think you should have ¡®freedom¡¯, but will kill others because they think differently?¡± Fathom asked, perplexed by this contradiction.
¡°There haven¡¯t been any wars since I was born, and freedoms are a¡young belief,¡± Pryce said, struggling to explain these complex concepts. ¡°Dragons protect eggs, right?¡± He asked, changing tactics.
¡°Yes, why?¡±
¡°So you think the egg deserves to hatch?¡±
¡°¡yes, I think I understand ¡®deserve¡¯ now,¡± Fathom said slowly. ¡°But egg is not a dragon. Dragons do not think other dragons deserve things.¡±
¡°What about honor? If you make trade, you think the other dragon deserves to keep the thing? Do you think a dragon that wins a fight deserves treasure?¡±
¡°Yes, yes, I understand now,¡± Fathom grumbled irritably. ¡°So ¡®blindly trust¡¯ means ¡®always trust¡¯?¡±
¡°Yes, that¡¯s right. Humans can have many different beliefs, and many people are not like me; they will be scared by you, because you are strong and different.¡± Fathom seemed to take this more as a compliment than anything, so Pryce added, ¡°Please be careful. If I am not there to explain that you are not dangerous, then other humans might try to shoot you with a rifle.¡± He withheld the information that dragons were mostly depicted positively in most myths and legends, being benevolent and sometimes divine beings, but it was better for Fathom to be cautious than to surprise a group of humans and get himself shot.
¡°¡I understand,¡± the dragon grumbled seriously, much less enthused by this unpleasant possibility. ¡°If many humans are scared of things that are different, then why are you different from them?¡±
Pryce scratched his neck, unsure if he even really knew the answer. ¡°I was more curious than I was afraid of you, I guess.¡±
¡°Yes, it was confusing, but it makes sense now,¡± Fathom noted offhandedly, confusing Pryce until he clarified, ¡°When I first met you, you seemed scared, and I was not sure why you came closer instead of running away,¡± The dragon yawned widely, his jaws opening to nearly a right angle.
Pryce stifled his own yawn to say, ¡°I will go hunt something, you can go to sleep now.¡±
¡°Go hunt, and be careful,¡± Fathom murmured, tucking his head under his right wing to go to sleep.
[JOURNAL ENTRY]
Day 53,
Fathom appears to be mostly recovered from the fever, and his wounds are healing well. I should be able to take the stitches out on the morning of day 56, as planned.
I both learned and taught much today. I''m not sure if Fathom really understood what I said about humans, but I can¡¯t blame him for that. It would be difficult to perceive a sapient race the size of my arm to be a violent one.
I think I¡¯ll teach him about ¨C damnit, I forgot to ask him about the second type of flame he used in his fight against Pathogen. Fathom¡¯s asleep now, so I¡¯ll pester him about it tomorrow. Come to think of it, ¡®breathe fire¡¯ isn¡¯t a very accurate term. They¡¯re definitely not inhaling it, so perhaps I should refer to it as ¡®expelling fire¡¯.
Speaking of the dragon, the glutton is rapidly depleting all the soup stock I have. I both anticipate and dread the day he gets to eat some quality human cuisine.
Vitals signs, sunrise of Day 53:
Respiratory rate: 6 bpm
Temperature: 30.76 degrees[3]
Major HR: 33 bpm
Upper minor HR: 5 bpm
Lower minor HR: 5 bpm
Hydrogen HR: 5 bpm
Pupil dilation: Responsive
Chapter 32, Day 54 – 55: Triangles and Liquid Fire
Fathom heaved a sigh of great relief when Pryce informed him that this was the last day he had to take any medicine. Though this happy mood was immediately ruined by Pryce cheerfully presenting him his fourth-last dosage.
¡°I want to talk about your fight with Pathogen,¡± Pryce said after Fathom had finished choking down the concoction. Normally they sat outside to get some fresh air, but today they took shelter from the pouring rain inside of Fathom¡¯s home. ¡°You use a different type of fire than hydrogen fire.¡±
¡°Yes?¡± Fathom said, tossing his head as if he could shake off the bitter taste of medicine.
¡°And you didn¡¯t tell me?!¡± Pryce asked incredulously.
¡°¡I forgot,¡± Fathom said a little sheepishly. ¡°That fire is called liquid fire.¡±
¡°You were far away when I saw you use it, so I did not see it very well. What can you tell me about liquid fire?¡±
¡°It¡¯s¡liquid fire,¡± Fathom said, sounding like he was asked to justify the purpose of his talons. ¡°We can mix liquid fire and hydrogen to start liquid fire, using spark. We use this to fight other dragons, a dragon can only use liquid fire one long time or some short times.¡±
¡°I see,¡± Pryce said, a little disappointed by the lack of information, but he¡¯d expected as much. The liquid fuel was probably some complex mixture of chemicals, and even if he could determine its composition that task would be of little importance.
¡°Do you have anything you wanted to ask?¡± Pryce queried, glancing out the mouth of the cave to see that the rain had not let up.
¡°Yes, you did not say how you find the distance of the sun.¡±
¡°Oh, that¡¯s easy. Kinda,¡± Pryce amended. ¡°Remember how we used the same triangles to measure distance between Earth and moon? We do the same thing, but we draw a triangle like this,¡± Pryce explained, sketching the diagram on his notepad while Fathom watched curiously.
¡°Hypotenuse is the longest length, the adjacent is the length closest to the angle we are looking at, and the opposite is the only one left,¡± Pryce explained. ¡°This symbol here is theta, and this is theta-one. Theta is the symbol for angle, which we can measure easily. We have angle and distance from Earth to moon, so we can make a second triangle that has the same angles, but with different lengths. I don¡¯t remember what theta-one is, but if it was 89 degrees then we would get a triangle like this:
¡°The number you get from dividing hypotenuse by adjacent has to be 0.0175 when the angle is 89 degrees. Humans calculate many numbers and write them down,¡± Pryce said, showing Fathom his trig tables. ¡°All triangles with the same angles will have the same numbers when you divide the same type of length by the same type of length. Now, we have the value for adjacent/hypotenuse for our second triangle, so we can do the same thing we did to find the length between the Earth and the moon.¡±
He had to explain the written mathematical notation, but Fathom grasped them all easily, as expected.
¡°So, if our angle is 89 degrees, we get a distance from sun to Earth of 21,714,286 kilometers, that means the angle that the other humans measured is higher than 89. I do not remember which number it was,¡± Pryce said apologetically.
¡°¡humans like triangles very much,¡± Fathom muttered, eliciting a chuckle from Pryce.
¡°Triangles are very useful in math,¡± Pryce replied.
¡°You can do this with all triangles?¡± Fathom asked thoughtfully.
¡°No, only triangles that have one angle that is 90 degrees, those are called right angles,¡± Pryce said, pointing at the diagram. ¡°We can only draw a right triangle when the moon is half full.¡±
¡°I understand, can you do other triangles now?¡±
Pryce showed Fathom several more examples by using randomly drawn triangles, showing how he could calculate any length or angle of an unknown triangle so long as he had the right information.
¡°Sine is the name of the ratio you get when you divide opposite by hypotenuse, cosine is the name of the ratio you get when you divide adjacent by hypotenuse, and tangent is the name of the ratio you get when you divide opposite over adjacent.¡±
¡°Makes sense,¡± Fathom said easily.
Pryce raised an eyebrow, then drew up a problem for Fathom to solve.
¡°Yes, that¡¯s the right answer,¡± Pryce confirmed, impressed.
The dragon solved the practice problem Pryce sketched into the sand with ease, only stopping to clarify a number that Pryce had drawn a little sloppily. It seemed the hardest part for him to do was to read the tiny tables in Pryce¡¯s handbook, and even that only took a second to read with his eyesight.
¡°Are all dragons good at math like you?¡± Pryce asked, wondering when he would have to start teaching Fathom calculus.
¡°Maybe? We use math to trade things, and not for this, but it is just multiplication and division,¡± Fathom said casually. ¡°Is this hard math?¡± He asked, preening as he did so.
¡°Not hard, but not easy. Human children learn this when they are¡ten or twelve years old?¡± Pryce said, scratching his head. He wasn¡¯t sure if the curriculum had changed much since his early days.
¡°When are human children adults?¡± Fathom asked.
¡°When they¡¯re 18 or 20 years old,¡± Pryce answered.
¡°This is old,¡± Fathom said, flicking his spines in mild surprise. ¡°Humans do not live long, I thought you maybe become adult in less years.¡±
Pryce shrugged. ¡±Yeah, it is pretty old. Humans take a very long time to become adults, most animals take less than 5 years. We think children needing so many years to grow up is one reason why humans live together, so we can protect and help each other.¡±
Fathom hummed, probably thinking about how different this was to the draconic way of child-rearing.
¡°Do hatchlings see any adult dragons? Other than their parents, I mean.¡±
¡°If parents trade or fight with other dragons, yes,¡± Fathom said, lifting his spines in what seemed to be an approximation of a shrug. The dragon was still unable to shift his wings properly, and the restriction seemed to be getting on his nerves.
¡°I can take the chain off for a little bit if you do not move your wing,¡± Pryce offered.
Fathom stared at his wing longingly for a few moments, but he eventually declined. ¡°I want my wing to heal good,¡± he said stoutly, impressing Pryce.
Then he ducked his head a little awkwardly to ask, ¡°...my wing is itchy, can you help scratch?¡±
[JOURNAL ENTRY]
Day 54,
It rained hard most of the day today, so I taught Fathom some more math inside his cave home. He grasped trigonometry with ease, which makes me wonder what level of math would make him struggle? I¡¯ve only used simple calculus these past few years to model the half-life of drugs¡maybe I should brush up.
He slept most of the day today, not because he¡¯s sick, but apparently rainy weather makes dragons drowsy. It¡¯s not hard to imagine why that is; some humans have that same instinct.
I¡¯m going to need something to occupy Fathom with while his wing bone heals. His appetite is returning with a vengeance, and I can¡¯t keep up. I wonder if he can hunt on the ground? If not, I can feed him food from the ship; there was originally enough food to feed a crew of 40 for 2 months. Even if it doesn¡¯t taste very good, it should be enough to last him awhile.
I¡¯ve been thinking about the future lately, long-term plans and the like. I don¡¯t know what to expect, but I¡¯ll need Fathom¡¯s help either way.
Vitals signs, sunrise of Day 54:
Respiratory rate: 6 bpm
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.Temperature: 30.74 degrees[1]
Major HR: 30 bpm
Upper minor HR: 5 bpm
Lower minor HR: 5 bpm
Hydrogen HR: 5 bpm
Pupil dilation: Responsive
Note: Now that he¡¯s mostly recovered, I¡¯ve decided to compile Fathom¡¯s vital signs in a separate notebook so that further measurements do not clutter this journal.
[Day 55]
¡°I have an important question,¡± Pryce prompted. He¡¯d spent yesterday afternoon and this morning teaching Fathom how to use more past tenses, hopefully that would make this conversation easier.
¡°Ask,¡± Fathom invited, tilting his head curiously.
¡°What do you want to do in the future?¡±
¡°Future?¡± Fathom asked, looking a bit lost at this vague question. ¡°I want to fly,¡± he said candidly, glancing at his wing.
¡°After that.¡±
¡°I want to kill Pathogen,¡± Fathom said, in that same casual tone.
¡°...have you killed any dragons before?¡± Pryce ventured. Human history may be a bloody one, but that didn¡¯t mean he would support a quest for vengeance.
¡°...No,¡± Fathom admitted reluctantly. ¡°I beat many dragons, killed many animals, but have not killed dragons.¡±
¡°Do you need to kill Pathogen?¡±
¡°Very much yes!¡± Fathom said, flicking his spines irritably. ¡°This is obvious.¡±
¡°...do you think Pathogen will come back and try to kill you?¡± Pryce asked.
¡°No, he is like a raptor - a coward,¡± he amended, using the new word Pryce had taught him. ¡°He usually only fights small fights, the last fight was strange.¡±
¡°I think I know why he does small fights, but I¡¯m not sure,¡± Pryce confessed.
¡°I just told you, it is because he is a coward,¡± Fathom huffed dismissively.
¡°I think he was trying to give you an infection.¡±
Fathom blinked at this concise summary.
¡°Think about it, he knows Abyss died from a small scratch. Infection is caused by bacteria, so if he makes his talons dirty, he can give someone an infection.¡±
¡°But¡he hurt me before, I did not get an infection like this in the past,¡± Fathom said, slow and uncertain.
¡°Once you get better from an infection, your body knows how to fight that type of bacteria, and you will not get very sick next time that bacteria goes into your body. This is called immunity,¡± Pryce explained. ¡°Sometimes people get infected by a type of bacteria that is like another stronger type. When they get better, the body knows how to fight both types of bacteria.¡±
¡°This is interesting, but why are you explaining this?¡± Fathom asked.
¡°Pathogen doesn¡¯t know what he¡¯s doing, I think he¡¯s just fighting you with bacteria on his claws and wanting you to get infected. Maybe you were already immune to the type of bacteria that he was trying to infect you with, but I don¡¯t know,¡± Pryce speculated.
Fathom did not answer, silently mulling this over until Pryce asked, ¡°How many dragons die of infection?¡±
¡°Most of the time less than ten dragons die in one year, but I do not know how many is from infection. Maybe half of deaths is from death-fights?¡±
¡°What happens if a dragon is killed by another dragon when they are not in a death-fight?¡± Pryce asked.
¡°This is complicated, sometimes dragon make big mistake or small mistake. If it is a small mistake, that dragon will be¡not honored? But if one dragon tries hard to kill another dragon, they need to fly to the ocean and not come back.¡± Fathom said grimly.
¡°Not honored is ¡®dishonored¡¯,¡± Pryce said, a little appalled but not surprised either. ¡°If dragons make one dragon fly away and not come back, that is exile. The dragons that fly over the ocean and do not come back die, yes?¡±
¡°Probably yes, but¡¡± Fathom trailed off.
¡°But what? Do some dragons believe in the big island I show you?¡± Pryce guessed.
¡°Y-yes? How did you know that?¡± Fathom asked, eyes widening in surprise.
¡°I remember you wanted to fly to that island,¡± Pryce shrugged.
¡°...yes, I remember now, that feel like a long time ago,¡± Fathom noted.
¡°Yeah, it does,¡± Pryce nodded in agreement. That was what, day 29? 30? Less than a month ago, and it had already seemed like years.
¡°Dragons¡believe in this island, some say that exiled dragons go there, or that dragons come from that island many thousands of years ago.¡±
¡°Is this island good or bad?¡± Pryce asked, wondering if this landmass was perceived as a sort of mythical paradise.
¡°This island is very good, dragons always want more land,¡± Fathom said wistfully.
¡°It won¡¯t be hard to go there, once more humans come,¡± Pryce said offhandedly. ¡°That island is much closer than the mainland.¡±
Fathom snorted in amusement. ¡°For dragons, saying ¡®It won¡¯t be hard to go there¡¯ is like saying ¡®it won¡¯t be hard to go to the moon¡¯.¡±
¡°So, this island is somewhere dragons want to go to, right?¡± Pryce asked, returning to the subject of his concern.
¡°Yes, very much. Why are you asking?¡± Fathom asked curiously.
¡°I was thinking about the future,¡± Pryce said cautiously. This could be a rather sensitive topic if taken the wrong way. ¡°We humans did not know dragons were here, but I know this now, so we cannot use this island as territory. I am thinking that in the future, humans can help dragons go to the big island, then dragons can help humans live there!¡± Pryce said, gesturing excitedly.
Fathom stared downwards, silent.
¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± Pryce asked. He¡¯d expected the dragon to be a lot more excited.
¡°This is good, but¡¡± Fathom trailed off, visibly struggling to find the right words. ¡°I do not know what other dragons will think about¡humans,¡± he said awkwardly, apparently trying to avoid giving offense.
¡°Even if I give them shiny things?¡± Pryce asked, raising an eyebrow.
¡°This will help, but I don¡¯t know what they will think about humans, maybe they will attack,¡± Fathom confessed.
¡°Then why didn¡¯t you attack me?¡± Pryce asked. What Fathom had mentioned was a possibility he had considered, but he had also hoped that Fathom wasn¡¯t an outlier among his kind.
¡°I see you when your ship come here, and I see you from high up in the sky. You make hole in sand, then fall into hole,¡± the dragon chuffed in amusement at the memory, making Pryce flush with embarrassment. Fathom quickly sobered, falling silent before asking, ¡°Did you try to make hole in sand for your¡friends?¡±
¡°...yes,¡± Pryce confirmed.
¡°I¡thought maybe you dig to find something, I thought maybe I can try to find that thing first,¡± Fathom recalled.
¡°Why didn¡¯t you?¡± Pryce asked. It certainly would have been a little terrifying to find the grave miraculously finished the day after he failed to complete it.
¡°I thought about it more, and you did not look like you were trying to find something; you looked like you just wanted to dig sand, and that was¡confusing,¡± Fathom explained. ¡°Then, later you try to move your many friends into the river, and I think I know why you dig hole.¡±
¡°I see,¡± Pryce said, low.
¡°I wanted to learn more things about you, so I helped you,¡± Fathom said.
¡°And you don¡¯t think other dragons will want to learn about humans? Or want to go to the other island?¡±
¡°...yes, they will,¡± Fathom admitted with a sigh. ¡°But if many dragons attack you, I cannot protect you.¡±
¡°We¡¯ll think about it later, maybe we can talk to dragons you think will like humans first,¡± Pryce said, touched by Fathom¡¯s concern. ¡±Moving bodies under earth is called ¡®bury¡¯. Do dragons bury dead dragons?¡± He asked, moving onto another topic.
¡°No, if the dead dragon has family or friends, they use wood to burn the dead dragon,¡± Fathom said solemnly.
With fire being so important to dragons it was hardly surprising to Pryce that they would cremate the dead. ¡°What happens if they don¡¯t have family or friends?¡±
¡°All dragons have family,¡± Fathom dismissed, but then he remembered something to add, ¡°If they are dishonored, then maybe no one will burn their body, but someone will always want their bones.¡±
¡°Their bones?¡± Pryce asked, surprised.
¡°Bones are strong, useful,¡± Fathom explained, which did make a macabre sort of sense. Pryce hadn¡¯t seen any bones identifiable as a dragon¡¯s, though he supposed Fathom simply never had the chance to acquire any given his past.
¡°Do dragons take bones of loved ones?¡± Pryce asked, wondering if this was done as a sort of insult. ¡°Friends and family that they like, I mean,¡± Pryce amended upon seeing Fathom¡¯s confused expression.
¡°Yes, all dragon bones are useful. What does ¡®loved ones¡¯ mean?¡±
¡°When someone likes someone else very much, they are loved. Usually this means friends and family.¡±
Fathom nodded, then asked, ¡°Humans have metal, you do not use bones, right?¡±
¡°No, we don¡¯t,¡± Pryce answered, shaking his head. ¡°Humans all bury their dead, sometimes they burn them, and¡we rarely bury them in the oceans,¡± he said.
¡°It is not good, to bury someone in the oceans?¡± Fathom asked; he was getting better at interpreting human emotions, and he had perceived Pryce¡¯s slight discomfort upon mentioning the last burial method.
¡°Most people¡want to be buried when they die,¡± Pryce said. ¡°I tried, but I failed.¡±
Fathom was silent for a few moments. ¡°¡but I should have helped you dig a hole,¡± he eventually rumbled.
Pryce shook his head. ¡°It¡¯s okay, I did everything I could, right?¡± He asked, a sad smile on his face.
¡°Good, you are getting better,¡± Fathom said, affectionately chuffing the human¡¯s hair with a jet of warm air.
Pryce tried to comb his hair back into place, but soon abandoned this futile effort. It was getting long and unruly without anyone to cut it, but it wasn¡¯t as if anyone was around to appreciate his hypothetically well-kempt hair.
¡°Yes, and you are getting better too,¡± Pryce said. ¡°I can take out your stitches tomorrow.¡±
Fathom settled down on his bed and made a wordless crooning noise of joy at the thought of regaining some of his mobility. Pryce wasn¡¯t entirely sure what he was going to do in order to occupy the restless dragon, but he was certain the two of them would never run out of things to talk about.
[JOURNAL ENTRY]
Day 55,
I brought up the topic of future plans to Fathom, and he seemed a bit skeptical that dragons would cooperate with humans, but I think it¡¯s doable.
I need to gain a neutral opinion before the next ship arrives, that way I can ensure that no hostilities break out.
The Horizon was intended to return in 2 months, but everyone knew extenuating circumstances could change things. The people back home probably wouldn¡¯t really start worrying until 3 months had passed, so the soonest I would expect the ship¡¯s arrival would be day 100.
Sounds like a lot of time, but Fathom¡¯s going to need another month at least to heal his broken wing, so I¡¯m on something of a tight timeframe. I¡¯ll - or rather, we, will need to do all the preparations and planning we can while Fathom recovers.
Hopefully once I remove Fathom¡¯s stitches he can move well enough to escort me to the ship, then I can listen to the radio in case they send something via morse-code.
Chapter 33, Day 56 - 57: Stitches and Spores
Pryce woke early in the morning to see Fathom¡¯s great red eyes staring directly at his face, well within arm¡¯s reach. Once he saw that the human was awake he immediately began badgering Pryce to have the stitches removed.
¡°You¡¯re lucky I¡¯m a morning person,¡± Pryce mumbled.
¡°Take out the stitches!¡± Fathom pestered, ignoring the sentence that he didn¡¯t fully understand. ¡°I want to¡move my body?¡± What had started as a demand died in his throat awkwardly as the dragon realized he didn¡¯t have the word he wanted to use.
¡°Yeah, yeah, let me get ready,¡± Pryce said, waving the dragon¡¯s muzzle away with a grumble.
At least taking out stitches was an easy job, he just had to cut the string and pluck them out. Even so, the sheer number of stitches he¡¯d put in resulted in this task lasting more than an hour. He was glad to see that the now pinkish wounds had fully closed and were well on their way to recovery, though they would probably scar quite a bit.
¡°Wait a minute,¡± Pryce said involuntarily. ¡°What happened to your old scars?¡± He asked, noticing that the scars he¡¯d seen when he first met Fathom had faded greatly.
¡°Healed,¡± Fathom said simply.
¡°Huh,¡± Pryce said; Apparently those were somewhat recent wounds, not old scars. Looking closely he could see that they were still there, just much faded. ¡°Do scars go away after a long time?¡± He asked.
¡°Most go away, yes,¡± Fathom confirmed.
Exceptional regeneration wasn¡¯t really a surprise at this point, though Pryce was a little envious. He certainly wouldn¡¯t say no to faster healing, or to a few extra centuries of life.
¡°Does this hurt?¡± Pryce asked, lightly poking the broken wing that was held in place by the two titanium rods.
¡°No,¡± Fathom said, then he grunted as Pryce palpated more firmly. ¡°That hurt a little,¡± he said stiffly.
¡°Sorry, and I think we need to keep your wing chained for a bit longer, at least until it doesn¡¯t hurt,¡± Pryce said apologetically. ¡°But other than that, you¡¯re done,¡± he said, taking out the last stitch he deemed removable. The longest gashes in Fathom¡¯s wings looked like they still needed help holding together, so he had decided to leave them in for another few days, but the wounds on his body were all healing well.
Fathom immediately took this opportunity to stretch, but winced as he pulled on some damaged muscle.
¡°Yeah, don¡¯t do that, or you¡¯ll rip open your wounds and then I¡¯ll need to put in more stitches,¡± Pryce warned.
Fathom grumbled discontentedly at this, but moved more gingerly as he tested his range of motion.
¡°Do you think you can go down to the ship?¡± Pryce asked, slinging the rifle over his shoulder after Fathom had spent a few minutes twisting himself about.
¡°Yes,¡± Fathom nodded eagerly. The dragon had taken a liking to the spices humans used in their cooking, and was eager to try more.
They spent a long time slowly going down the mountain, with Pryce constantly reminding Fathom that the way back up would be harder, and not to push himself too hard. Fathom had grumbled something in response to this nagging that he decided not to translate, instead focusing on how to step down without pulling on the gash along his torso.
The trip took an hour when it would have taken Fathom mere minutes at optimal health, but they did make it to the ship.
¡°Do your wounds hurt more than normal?¡± Pryce asked, trying to check his reluctant patient. Fathom was so big that he couldn¡¯t see all of him at once, making it difficult to see if anything had torn.
¡°No, I am well,¡± Fathom said, brushing off his concern with a little annoyance. ¡°Get your things, I will help carry them back to my home.¡±
Before gathering the things he wanted to bring back, Pryce brought out the great steel pot that was used to make stew for the whole crew, lighting a fire underneath it to boil a great amount of soup. His own pot didn¡¯t even make a mouthful at a time for Fathom, and now that he had access to the ship¡¯s stores of food he could toss in all the jerky and vegetables that he wanted.
¡°Humans have very much metal,¡± Fathom said, looking at the shiny and perfectly curved steel cylinder with an appreciative eye.
¡°We have a lot of iron, but less of other metals,¡± Pryce said, then realized Fathom didn¡¯t know what iron referred to. ¡°I¡¯ll teach you about the names of metal later.¡±
The chickens had survived despite the fact that he had forgotten to feed them on day 50 as he had far more pressing matters to attend to. The surplus of feed and water he had always left them with had saved their lives, even if they weren¡¯t currently in the best of health. Unfortunately for them, there was no way he could care for them in the future once he left with Fathom to deal with other dragons, so¡he made chicken soup.
¡°Promise me you won¡¯t eat this soup while I¡¯m gone, it¡¯s not done cooking,¡± Pryce said, not quite trusting Fathom to be alone with a cauldron of aromatic foods he had never tasted before.
¡°I promise,¡± Fathom grumbled, setting himself down so that he faced away from the campfire to nap in a sulking manner.
Pryce wanted to bring a large amount of food back up the mountain, but what he could carry wouldn¡¯t even be a single meal for Fathom. Even unloaded Pryce was sure the dragon would have to exert himself greatly to climb back up, so having him help out wasn¡¯t much of a possibility, despite his offer.
What he really needed were books and equipment, so that¡¯s what he decided to prioritize first.
While he did know some amount of history, it completely failed to hold a candle to the wealth of scientific knowledge he had accumulated in the fifty years of his time on the planet. The ship hadn¡¯t brought any history books, save for when past events were mentioned in an academic light, so Fathom¡¯s history lesson would have to wait for later.
What he decided to bring were ultimately books on physics, chemistry, geology, and of course, biology. Pryce tried to look for easier books to bring so that Fathom would be able to learn to read, but he only found a handful. After a moment¡¯s hesitation, he packed up Siebert¡¯s son¡¯s book of Fairy Tales. He was sure they wouldn¡¯t have minded if he used it to teach a dragon how to read.
Next, he packed a few basic lab supplies including a microscope; there wasn¡¯t much Pryce could do here, but he could identify fungal species, which would be helpful in developing other antibiotics in the future.
Finally, he plugged in one of the radio receivers. No signal, as expected, so he packed it into the bags so that he could use it back by the caves. The device was heavy - especially the battery, but it was critical to know when and where the next ship would be arriving.
Pryce felt like he forgot something, but there was only so much weight he could carry. Even if he had forgotten anything he could simply come back for it tomorrow, so he slung the backpack over his shoulder and returned to check up on Fathom.
¡who was now brooding over the soup.
A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
¡°Looking at it won¡¯t make it be done faster,¡± Pryce said in amusement.
¡°But it smells good,¡± Fathom groused plaintively, tail twitching restlessly.
Pryce must have been gone for longer than had he thought, the soup was steaming and looked close to boiling. Ten minutes later he scooped out a large bowl for himself and left the rest to Fathom, who examined the soup studiously before drawing his head back in dissatisfaction - the broth was still scalding hot, and apparently he had ¡®seen¡¯ the heat with the pits in his muzzle.
The dragon looked up to see Pryce blowing on a spoonful of soup, and a second later he tried to copy this action with a little too much enthusiasm, causing a bit of the soup to slosh over the edge and onto the sand.
¡°Wait,¡± Pryce called out, stifling a chuckle as the dragon fretted over this loss. He added more salt and drinking water to cool the soup off, allowing Fathom to experience the foreign flavors within the stew without burning his tongue.
A dragon sticking his head into a pot was a strange sight to say the least, and soon Fathom was licking the sides of the pot clean while he was only halfway through his own meal. Pryce felt the need to finish it a bit quicker as Fathom licked his chops while casting surreptitious glances at his own bowl.
¡°Was it good?¡± Pryce asked. It was a rhetorical question if there ever was one; the pot was sparkling clean.
¡°Yes,¡± Fathom murmured contentedly, too pleased to offer a sarcastic response. He had gotten so comfortable that Pryce had to coax him back up the mountain for fear he would fall asleep right there on the beach.
[JOURNAL ENTRY]
Day 56,
Fathom was exhausted by the climb back up today, and immediately went to sleep upon our return. Perhaps we will only make a trip to The Horizon every other day so that he has time to rest inbetween.
It¡¯s not surprising given how little he¡¯s moved and how much muscle he¡¯s lost in the days since he received those injuries; it will take some time for him to make a full recovery.
It seems that teaching him how to read will have to wait given how deeply he¡¯s sleeping. I panned through the book of fairy tales and realized they would be a very confusing thing to start with given how nonsensical they are. There were a few about dragons that Fathom might be interested in, but I don¡¯t think they would be good books to start with.
There are no children¡¯s books aboard the ship for obvious reasons, perhaps I will simply read out loud to him and see if he can memorize each spoken word¡¯s written equivalent.
Now that I think about it, perhaps it¡¯s time for me to try and learn the dragon language. I know I can¡¯t hear some range of frequencies, but I should still be able to recognize most words.
Like I said earlier, I need to somehow get the dragons on my side so that they won¡¯t attack the next ship, whenever it will arrive. This expedition was planned to make landfall on the eastern side of the island at a longitude of around 30 degrees, but The Horizon was blown far off course. No one knows that, so they¡¯ll probably try to find us at that location.
Of course, the second ship could be blown off course too, so best case I somehow get the word out to all the dragons to not attack any humans they see, and to let me know as soon as they find one.
How the hell am I going to do that?
[Day 57]
That morning Pryce had gotten up early to hear the radio ring out at 6:29 AM. It was comforting to hear that noise again, even if it was a pain to wake up so early in the morning. With nothing to do without daylight Pryce went back to sleep, and woke up later to make petri dishes.
¡°What are you doing?¡± Fathom asked as he chewed on some of his smoked meat with a dissatisfied air. He had exerted himself too much yesterday, and was forced to eat his own stock of bland meat instead of the relatively flavorful human rations.
¡°I¡¯m making places for fungi to grow,¡± Pryce explained, waving the open petri dish around. ¡°I want to see if any fungi here can make antibiotics, I only have 400 grams left, if another dragon gets sick, then I cannot cure them.¡±
¡°...I do not see anything in this glass, only some water-like thing,¡± Fathom said, squinting at the petri dishes. ¡°How can fungi grow here?¡±
¡°These glass things are called petri dishes, and the water-like thing is called agar; it¡¯s like food for bacteria and fungi,¡± Pryce explained. ¡°Fungi grows from very small seeds called spores. I cannot see spores, there are always spores in the air, so I¡¯m trying to get fungi to start growing in the petri dishes. I can¡¯t make antibiotics without better tools, but I can see what fungi on this island can make antibiotics.¡± He sighed as he looked at the currently transparent gel. ¡°It¡¯s too bad I don¡¯t have the fungi from the mainland, then I could make antibiotics using the things on the ship.¡±
¡°...spores are small, and you can not see them, yes?¡± Fathom asked slowly.
¡°Yes, why?¡±
¡°Does this mean that you can have spores of fungi that make antibiotics on the ship?¡±
¡°No, that¡¯s almost impossible,¡± Pryce dismissed. ¡°The fungi is called Penicillium chrysogenum, it grows on dead fruits, so there¡¯s nothing in the ship that it can grow on.¡±
¡°...Are spores like seeds?¡± Fathom asked after humming in thought for a few moments. ¡°Some seeds last a long time, then become trees.¡±
¡°Yes, spores can last a long time,¡± Pryce confirmed, nodding his head as he laid out the last petri dish. ¡°But I do not know where those spores can be, I would just be guessing where they are.¡±
¡°What if spores are on clothes you wear when you make penicillin?¡± Fathom asked, still gnawing on the dried meat.
¡°No, I washed my clothes since then,¡± Pryce said, a little annoyed now. He supposed it was fair for Fathom to be interested in making more penicillin, but -
¡°How long ago did Max give you Chronometer?¡±
¡°...Oh.¡±
¡°Good idea,¡± Pryce said to Fathom, who held his head up smugly until the ache of his injuries made that position unsustainable. Pryce was quite glad he had not voiced any of his irritation as he pried the metal casing open with a screwdriver - it had been crimped shut by one or more of the impacts it had received.
When the device finally popped open he saw that the glass of the clock face had shattered into innumerable pieces. Using a pair of tongs he picked up a few shards of glass and placed them into the petri dishes. The years he spent working with the mold made it a certainty that some spores made their way into the device, though it would likely be in the corners, grooves, and other such hard-to-reach places, which he carefully swabbed as well. All he needed was for at least one spore to be viable, and then he could start a new colony.
Once Pryce was done setting up the cultures Fathom swallowed one last bite of smoked meat and declared that he was fit to climb down the mountain after all, belying his earlier complaints of soreness.
¡°Alright, just don¡¯t hurt yourself,¡± Pryce shrugged, rolling his eyes. It was obvious that Fathom wanted more human food, but he had no problems sharing if that meant the dragon recovered more swiftly.
They followed much the same routine as they had yesterday, with Pryce adding extra dried meat into the soup so that Fathom could get the protein he needed to rebuild his damaged muscles, and the dragon slurped up this meal with just as much enthusiasm as the day before.
¡°So, I wanted to talk more about the future,¡± Pryce said after Fathom had finished licking the pot clean.
¡°You talked about this before,¡± Fathom said.
¡°Yes, but I want to talk more about it. More humans will come to find me, but I don¡¯t know when and where they will be here. I need to tell all the other dragons about humans so dragons do not attack any humans, do you know how to do that?¡± Pryce asked.
¡°Summer solstice is in 61 days,¡± Fathom said thoughtfully. ¡°That is when most dragons in this province will be in one place.¡±
¡°Yeah, I thought about that too, will those dragons tell dragons in other provinces about me?¡± Pryce asked.
¡°If you are interesting,¡± Fathom scoffed, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.
¡°Yeah, that won¡¯t be hard to do,¡± Pryce agreed. ¡°What will be most interesting to them?¡±
¡°I think the most interesting things you tell me are how far and how big the sun and moon are,¡± Fathom said. ¡°But do not tell them the sun is not fire. They will not like that,¡± he added severely after a moment¡¯s thought.
¡°Understood,¡± Pryce nodded. ¡°So if I offer to give them things if they tell me where humans are, do you think they will agree?¡±
Fathom parted his mouth in a draconic grin. ¡°How many bottles of alcohol do you have?¡±
[JOURNAL ENTRY]
Day 57,
In short, the plan is to offer a reward (alcohol, as it is one of the more disposable things on the ship that the dragons will covet) to any dragon that can offer information regarding the whereabouts of a human ship, under the condition that they do not approach the humans or the ship while allowing Fathom and I to talk to them first.
One issue is whether or not we should inform the dragons about the existence of guns. Fathom agrees that the dragons might see humans as a threat if we do, but if we don¡¯t then a dragon might get themselves shot by a group of terrified humans.
I dislike deception on principle, but perhaps some ambiguity is the best option for now. We can slowly introduce our capabilities so that it does not come as one big shock.
This plan needs a lot of work, and I¡¯m still conflicted about Pathogen. I¡¯d like to convince Fathom to try and not kill him, but I know nothing about Pathogen himself. If he¡¯s truly malicious, then that advice could get Fathom hurt or even killed¡
Chapter 34, Day 58 – 59: Warning Signs
Fathom laid in bed that morning complaining about various aches in his body, having overexerted himself yesterday to satiate his appetite.
¡°Next time, don¡¯t push yourself so hard,¡± Pryce shrugged, doubting Fathom had done any significant damage to his body. He was currently examining the petri dishes. Some growths were appearing on the dishes, but they were currently too small to be easily identifiable. By tomorrow they would be developed enough for Pryce to identify the Peoria strain of Penicillium chrysogenum
[1] ¨C if it was present.
Fathom stopped his grousing to perk his head up, tilting it with a serious expression.
¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± Pryce asked sharply, reaching for the rifle he always kept nearby. White tigers? Or another dragon?
¡°Something is¡bad,¡± Fathom said, slow and serious. ¡°Go outside,¡± he ordered, pushing himself up with a grunt. Pryce couldn¡¯t think of any threat that would need them to leave the safety of the caves, but he obeyed the command to quickly step outside.
¡°Ground will go like this soon,¡± Fathom said, raising a foreclaw to shake it back and forth.
¡°Shake? Earthquake?¡± Pryce asked in realization, then slapped himself in the face. ¡°I forgot to tell you there was an earthquake the day I left to get medicine!¡±
¡°What?¡± Fathom hissed. ¡°How can you forget this?¡±
¡°There were a lot of things to think about!¡± Pryce said defensively, and before Fathom could voice his rebuttal the ground began to quake, just as he predicted. This earthquake was stronger than the one Pryce experienced on day 50, but still fairly weak. It wasn¡¯t difficult to maintain his footing, and the quake was over in perhaps half a minute. ¡°This is a bit stronger than the earthquake I felt,¡± Pryce said warily, unsure if the tremors had ended.
¡°I have felt earthquakes before, but if one happened eight days ago, then that is¡very soon,¡± Fathom said, flattening his spines.
¡°How many earthquakes are there in one year? Normally, I mean,¡± Pryce asked, hoping this wasn¡¯t a sign of a severe earthquake in the future.
¡°Maybe twelve like this one in one year?¡± Fathom said speculatively.
¡°Okay, and when was the last earthquake you felt before this one?¡± Pryce asked.
¡°Three days before your ship came here,¡± Fathom answered.
¡°Okay, that¡¯s not too bad,¡± Pryce said. ¡°How did you know one was coming?¡± He asked. Animals were often documented as acting oddly before earthquakes began, Fathom must have detected something with his keen senses.
¡°I can hear and feel something¡it is hard to explain,¡± Fathom said diffidently. ¡°Things feel strange before earthquake happens.¡±
¡°I see¡¡± Pryce said, a little disappointed. Then again, it wasn¡¯t as if animals had supernatural senses, so it was always going to be a mundane explanation. ¡°How often do strong earthquakes happen here?¡± He asked, hoping it wasn¡¯t something he should be worrying about.
¡°Strong ones are very rare. The time from one strong earthquake and the next strong earthquake is sometimes more than one hundred years, and it is sometimes less than ten years,¡± Fathom explained.
¡°How many years since the last big earthquake?¡± Pryce asked warily.
¡°One hundred twenty-five,¡± Fathom answered with the sort of complacency that one associated with an old danger.
¡°...Oh,¡± Pryce said, then glanced up at the towering mountain range in concern. ¡°How often do volcanoes erupt? Erupt is like this,¡± Pryce explained, making an exploding motion with his hands.
¡°Volcanoes erupt less often, sometimes it is many hundreds of years between volcano erupts ¨C eruptions,¡± He amended irritably after Pryce corrected him. ¡°The last volcano eruption was 385 years ago.¡±
¡°Well¡let¡¯s hope that doesn¡¯t happen soon,¡± Pryce sighed; weren''t there enough things to worry about?
¡°Hope?¡± Fathom asked quizzically.
¡°Hope is when you can¡¯t do anything, but you want something to happen,¡± Pryce explained.
¡°You can¡¯t do anything about volcanoes or earthquakes?¡± Fathom asked, sounding a little surprised.
¡°Of course not, what do you want me to do about them?¡± Pryce asked incredulously, gesturing wildly to the entire mountainside they stood on.
¡°I don¡¯t know, I thought maybe you can do math to find when the next earthquake will be,¡± Fathom said, twitching his spines a little. ¡°You can find the distance and size of the sun, but not when the next earthquake will be?¡±
¡°No, humans don¡¯t know how to calculate earthquakes,¡± Pryce said drily. Fathom seemed a bit disappointed at this, so Pryce added, ¡°But it is interesting that earthquakes normally happen once a month, don¡¯t you think? It might have something to do with the moon.¡±
¡°But moon¡does not change with earthquake?¡± Fathom asked awkwardly.
¡°When one thing changes another, that is ¡®affect¡¯. The thing that happens is called the ¡®effect¡¯,¡± Pryce explained. ¡°And you remember how Earth has gravity? All things have gravity, but only big things have lots of gravity. The moon has enough gravity to pull the water on the Earth, that changes how high the water is, which we call tide. The gravity of the moon affects Earth, and the effect is a change in the tide.¡±
¡°Other things have gravity?¡± Fathom asked in surprise, apparently not having considered this before.
¡°Yes, that is why they are round, like the globe,¡± Pryce explained, making Fathom¡¯s eyes widen into circles as he realized why the two celestial bodies were round.
¡°We can calculate tides, but the book is in the ship,¡± Pryce said. ¡°Do you want to see that tomorrow?¡±
¡°...yes,¡± Fathom said absently, looking as if he was considering whether he should leave the cave to look at the sun under this new perspective. After a few moments, he settled back down to rest, eyes staring blankly.
¡°Sorry, I didn¡¯t remember to tell you that earlier,¡± Pryce said after a few moments of uncomfortable silence.
Fathom flicked his spines dismissively. ¡°You know many things I do not know, this is not your fault.¡±
Pryce felt that Fathom needed some time to process this new information, so they chatted about lighter topics for the rest of the day.
[Day 59]
Fathom groaned as he climbed down the last step to the beach. Despite all his grousing he had finished the trip in less time than he had on the day Pryce had taken out his stitches, and the dragon settled down to massage his aching limbs as Pryce went to fetch a certain book.
¡°So, like I said yesterday, tides are caused by gravity,¡± Pryce said, which was something of a simplification but also true enough. ¡°The tides are affected by where the moon and sun is, if the moon and sun are in the same direction then the tides will be at their highest. Other things like weather also affect tides, but we can¡¯t calculate those.¡±
¡°It is strange that some things you can calculate and some things you cannot. Are there humans who try to calculate earthquakes and weather?¡± Fathom asked curiously.
¡°Of course, humans tried to do this for thousands of years. We can calculate some, but weather changes very much, and we are often wrong,¡± Pryce paused, then added, ¡°To calculate something before it happens is called ¡®predict¡¯. The worst earthquakes have caused tens of thousands of deaths, so if we can predict them then we can save many lives.¡± He opened the book to the table of predicted tides, calculated years in advance. Of course since they didn¡¯t have data on seasons or the patterns of climate, these values came with wide error margins, but they were far better than nothing.
¡°This page predicts tides?¡± Fathom asked, pointing at the tables.
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¡°Yes,¡± Pryce said, then explained how columns and rows worked, which seemed to interest the dragon more than he expected.
¡°This is very¡I do not know how to explain this word,¡± Fathom said, blinking in minor annoyance. ¡°Is there a word for when a thing is useful, but simple?¡±
¡°That is¡elegant,¡± Pryce said, settling on that word after a few moments. ¡°Elegant can mean a simple thing that is useful, but it can also mean something that looks good or something that can move very well¡like a white tiger,¡± Pryce snickered, waiting for Fathom to bristle at the joke to add, ¡°Or a dragon.¡±
Fathom snorted austerely at this, unamused. ¡°If white tigers are more elegant than dragons, maybe they are faster than me, and will eat you next time,¡± he said, mouth parted in what was certainly a sardonic grin.
¡°Ah, but then no one can make you soup,¡± Pryce said somberly, as if this were a great tragedy.
¡°Yes, I will be very sad,¡± Fathom snorted in a sort of draconic chuckle, then turned to look down at the book. ¡°What is written on the other pages?¡±
¡°The other pages have predictions for the weather, moon phases, lunar and solar eclipses,¡± Pryce listed. ¡°Solar eclipses are when the sun becomes black because the moon moves in front of the sun.¡±
¡°You can predict solar eclipses?¡± Fathom asked in visible surprise, spines flaring.
¡°Well, the math is pretty complicated, and I don¡¯t really know it, but other humans wrote the answers down here in this book, so I know when there will be an eclipse. This book has which day, hour, and minute where the eclipse will start.¡±
¡°When is the next eclipse?¡± The dragon asked urgently as he swung his head forward.
¡°42 days from now, one day before summer solstice,¡± Pryce answered after a moment¡¯s delay. He knew this because he, along with the rest of the crew, had once hoped to see the total eclipse on day 101 on this island as they occurred very rarely on the mainland. He thought it was quite fortuitous that the solstice would be so close to the eclipse, perhaps he could use this coincidence to his advantage.
¡°Do dragons go to meet before the summer solstice? If we go there early and tell other dragons when the eclipse will happen, will they be impressed?¡± Pryce asked speculatively.
Fathom rumbled in thought, obviously unenthusiastic about the idea. ¡°I do not know,¡± he eventually confessed. ¡°Maybe some will be impressed, but some will not¡I do not think it is good to tell them. Eclipse is not a good thing to see, dragons will not be happy.¡±
¡°Damn,¡± Pryce muttered under his breath. Of course the eclipse would be significant for dragons, given how they practically revered the sun. ¡°Do dragons know that the eclipse is caused by the moon?¡±
Fathom bobbed his head uncertainly. ¡°Some dragons think it is the moon, but others do not think so,¡± the dragon explained, then tilted his head thoughtfully. ¡°You said the moon is sometimes farther away and sometimes closer, this makes sense if the moon is causing eclipses. Some eclipses are darker than other eclipses, and this is because the moon is closer to Earth,¡± Fathom said in realization, then looked at Pryce for confirmation.
¡°Yes, exactly,¡± Pryce nodded. ¡°Do some dragons think an eclipse means bad things will happen?¡±
¡°Bad things? Why will bad things happen after an eclipse?¡± Fathom asked, confused.
¡°A long time ago, humans thought eclipses were bad things because it looked like the sun was dying,¡± Pryce shrugged, aware that this was rather silly. ¡°An eclipse looks like the sun is disappearing, so I thought maybe dragons think eclipses are bad things.¡±
¡°This is¡not wrong,¡± Fathom hummed. ¡°Some dragon think eclipse causes bad things, other dragons think eclipse¡teaches bad things will happen?¡± He asked uncertainly.
¡°That¡¯s a warning, when someone tells you not to do something, or if someone tells you that something bad will happen, that is a warning.¡±
¡°Yes, some dragons think an eclipse is a warning,¡± Fathom nodded.
¡°Warning of what?¡± Pryce asked, wondering what dragons would consider to be threats.
¡°Some think it is a warning for bad weather, or sickness,¡± Fathom said, which made sense. ¡°But if an eclipse is just a shadow, then this does not make sense,¡± he snorted dismissively.
¡°Yes, an eclipse is just the shadow of the moon, which is a very big rock,¡± Pryce confirmed.
¡°What do humans from a long time ago think eclipses do?¡± Fathom asked, tilting his head.
¡°Depends on which group of humans, but most of them think it is¡bad luck, and luck is things that happen that you can do nothing about, like weather. If good things happen that you did nothing for, that is good luck. If bad things happen that you did nothing for, that is bad luck.¡±
¡°You used this word before, when you used stitches on me and this morning,¡± Fathom said, shuddering a bit at the unpleasant memory. ¡°Not getting infection is luck, that makes sense, but what does ¡®morning person¡¯ mean? Is that a type of human?¡± Fathom asked curiously.
¡°Oh, no, that¡¯s just a thing humans say, it means someone who wakes up early in the morning. Most people are not ¡®morning persons¡¯, and like to sleep until later.¡±
¡°You sleep less than me,¡± Fathom noted. ¡°How many hours do humans sleep?¡± The dragon always went to sleep before Pryce, and almost always woke up later, so of course he didn¡¯t know how long Pryce slept.
¡°Normally humans sleep 7 or 8 hours at night, but I usually sleep 6,¡± Pryce said. He knew it was healthier to get 8 hours, of course, but a busy life had led to him becoming accustomed to a handful of hours of sleep per day, so his body tended not to sleep more than 6 hours under normal circumstances.
¡°That is not much, dragons usually sleep¡half of one day?¡± Fathom said, tilting his head. ¡°One long sleep is less than half of one day, but we have other small sleeps too.¡±
¡°Those are naps,¡± Pryce said. That explained why Fathom left earlier on some days, but even then he was probably sleeping less than usual by visiting Pryce so much. ¡°Were you sleeping less because of me?¡±
¡°Yes,¡± Fathom mumbled after a yawn. ¡°But dragons need less sleep if we do not fly much. I use less strength when talking to you, so I do not need to sleep much.¡±
That made sense, dragons were probably inclined to sleep so much because moving was so energy-intensive. If anything Pryce was surprised they didn¡¯t sleep more than twelve hours a day, but that just made sleep all the more important to Fathom¡¯s recovery. ¡°Let¡¯s go back to your home, you can take a nap if you¡¯re tired.¡±
Fathom was exhausted by the time he finished the arduous journey back home. His long nap gave Pryce some time to mull over what to discuss next; the solstice was in 43 days, and he hoped dearly that it would be enough time for Fathom to regain the ability to fly.
If he was going to be a sort of ambassador of humanity, then learning how to understand draconic speech was definitely worth the effort ¨C he doubted it would go well, not with his limited hearing, but that was no reason to give up without an attempt.
If that didn¡¯t go well he could always read to Fathom, but the printed books were all too complex ¨C though he briefly considered the guide to identifying rocks and minerals before dismissing that option. He supposed he could just write out the sentences, even if that was more work than he¡¯d like.
Pryce belatedly realized he had forgotten to check on the Petri dishes today, and rushed to check up on the microbial colonies.
¡°What is that sound you are making?¡± Fathom asked, having been woken from his light slumber by Pryce¡¯s whoop of victory.
¡°Sorry, I didn¡¯t mean to wake you up,¡± Pryce said, calming down a little. ¡°Look, this is the fungi that makes penicillin, it¡¯s name is penicillium chrysogenum!¡± He enthused, tilted the dish at Fathom who looked unimpressed at the fuzzy colony of mold.
¡°This thing makes penicillin?¡± Fathom asked doubtfully, looking a little scornful but also conscious of the fact that he owed his life to the unremarkable thing in Pryce¡¯s hands.
¡°Yes, this makes lots of it,¡± Pryce said, unscrewing the dish to take a sample to place under the microscope. He could recognize the distinctive features of the mold in a heartbeat, but the arrangement of spores and conidia could only be seen under a microscope, and he spent the rest of the day confirming that this was the exact strain he desired.
[JOURNAL ENTRY]
Day 59,
It¡¯s difficult to plan and prepare for things when I have no idea what could happen. Fathom is uncertain how the other dragons would react to me, so I tried to learn draconic today in hopes that it might be beneficial; it didn¡¯t go well.
From the way Fathom explained it, Draconic is a tonal language, meaning the tone with which you say a word changes what that word is. I can¡¯t even take notes to study with ¨C Draconic words just can¡¯t be reproduced by the English alphabet. Even worse, certain words sound identical to others, but Fathom insists they are different. I think those words have parts that are outside the human range of hearing, so that can¡¯t be helped.
Both Fathom and I were frustrated by my lack of progress, hopefully he¡¯s still open to teaching me his language tomorrow.
On a related note, Fathom determined the range of frequencies I could hear by humming a note and lowering it until I could no longer perceive it, and then doing the same for high-pitched frequencies. Now that I think about it, it seems like dragons would make great singers. I wonder if they have any songs? That would be something to see hear. Maybe I should ask Fathom tomorrow.
Despite all my reservations, I do have some great news: I now have a healthy colony of penicillium chrysogenum! I never thought I¡¯d say this, but the familiar sulcate grooves and velutinous texture was a sight for sore eyes.
The microscopic features check out too; short, smooth stipes, biverticillate branches, ampulliform phialides, medium sized collula, and smooth, dark green ellipsoidal conidia were all present.[1]
Should the need ever arise, I have the equipment and materials I need in order to make more penicillin-G, which I hope will be more effective than penicillin-V given its intravenous route, avoiding what I assume are the destructive stomach acids present in a dragon¡¯s stomach.
At first I thought it would be pointless to make any, as penicillin-G will break down and become useless quite quickly in this island¡¯s warm climate.
But then I had an idea; what if I stored it in the river? It¡¯s 6.5 degrees, which is on the high end of what Penicillin-G can take, but it is cold enough to keep it from breaking down. Penicillium chrysogenum takes about 200-300 hours to ferment to produce about 1.5 grams per liter of mold-broth; making penicillin on-demand is obviously not a great idea when someone¡¯s dying of infection and/or fever.
Guess I know what I¡¯m doing the next few weeks.
Chapter 35, Day 60: A Change in Perspective
Outside, the clock tower struck noon.
¡°It has been sixty days,¡± the naval captain noted.
A smartly dressed woman sighed. They were only two of the countless people awaiting news of The Horizon¡¯s return, and yet they were certainly among the most interested. ¡°So it has. And no news, captain?¡± The woman asked tiredly.
¡°None,¡± the captain replied stiffly. It was an old dialogue, one that they¡¯d had many times.
¡°Very well, we will wait one more month,¡± she said firmly.
¡°Joan,¡± the captain entreated, almost pleading.
¡°-and you may tell the operator that the message is cleared for transmission,¡± she finished.
The captain was only a little placated by this, and looked as if he would have liked to voice some dissent, but he eventually acquiesced, nodding.
The woman smiled consolingly. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about them yet, Martin. You know the ship is not ready, and they might not have felt the need to return yet,¡± Joan said in comforting tones.
¡°...Of course, Director Kirk,¡± Captain Siebert answered formally, and touched his hat as he excused himself.
Pryce woke up slowly, fumbling in the darkness for the lighter as the sun had not yet risen. Once he had lit the lantern he was able to read the time; a quarter past six, another fifteen minutes until the signal arrived. He plugged in the radio and spent the remaining time stretching so that he wouldn¡¯t fall back asleep, and was a little startled to finally hear the ring.
Then a few moments later, a second ring.
Pryce¡¯s heart stopped, and for a second he froze. In the next he scrambled for the nearest pen and notepad to record the signal. The radio had two bells of different tones, only one had been used up until now, as only one bit of information was required.
But to send a message would require more than that. The low frequencies transmitted could only store a paltry amount of information, nowhere near enough for spoken words.
So it was a good thing that morse code was invented over a hundred years ago - it was a relatively simple matter to translate a message into two unique signals, ¡®dots¡¯ to ring the sharp bell, and ¡®dashes¡¯ to ring the dull bell.
By the time Pryce was able to begin recording he had missed the first few tones, but that was no issue - the message was sure to be looped. Soon he finished writing the message, but the message began to repeat one minute later just as he¡¯d expected. With another repeat he was certain he transcribed the message with no mistakes:
-- . ... ... .- --. . / ... - .- .-. - .-.-.-
/ .-. . - ..- .-. -. / .- ... .- .--. .-.-.- / .. ..-. / .-. . --.- ..- .. .-. . -.. --..-- / .- .-- .- .. - / .-. . ... -.-. ..- . / .- - / . .- ... - / -.-. --- .- ... - --..-- / ..--- ..--- .-.-.- ..... / -.. . --. .-. . . ... / -. .-.-.- / .-. . ... -.-. ..- . / ... .... .. .--. / .-- .. .-.. .-.. / .-.. .- ..- -. -.-. .... / --- -. / -- .. ... ... .. --- -. / -.. .- -.-- / ----. ----- .-.-.- / . - .- ---... / -- .. ... ... .. --- -. / -.. .- -.-- / .---- ----- ----- .-.-.- / -- . ... ... .-
--. . / . -. -.. .-.-.-
Using the morse code table, Pryce translated the characters one by one until he decoded the message:
MESSAGE START.
RETURN ASAP. IF REQUIRED, AWAIT RESCUE AT EAST COAST, 22.5 DEGREES N. RESCUE SHIP WILL LAUNCH ON MISSION DAY 90.
ETA: MISSION DAY 100.
MESSAGE END.
¡°What are you doing?¡± Fathom asked irritably, having been woken up by the sound of Pryce¡¯s noise of frustration.
¡°People from the Mainland tell me that they will come here in 40 days, this is not enough time!¡± Pryce groused.
¡°People from the Mainland?¡± Fathom asked, bewildered. He had slept through the sound made by the radio, just as he had every other day. ¡°Mainland is very far away, how can they tell you this?¡±
¡°Yes, mainland is over 10,000 kilometers away,¡± Pryce confirmed as he plugged the radio back in with shaking hands, and the signal that was still looping began to play once more. ¡°Humans make a device that can make light that no one can see. This light goes very far, and this device can ¡®see¡¯ that light. We use light to make noise, and noise can become English,¡± Pryce explained distractedly as he paced.
¡°How can light go far? Earth is round, light from far away cannot reach us,¡± Fathom said as he narrowed his eyes doubtfully at the unassuming radio receiver.
¡°This light is strange, it can hit the sky and bounce, so it can go very far. I don''t know how this works, other humans know this better,¡± Pryce added as he dug through his belongings to find the map, though Fathom remained skeptical of this argument. ¡°Here, do you think this red mark is in the province we¡¯re in?¡± Pryce asked, holding up the map.
¡°I¡don¡¯t know, this might be in the north-most province, we are in the second north-most province,¡± Fathom said, squinting at the map. ¡°There is no detail, so it is hard to tell where this is.¡±
¡°This red dot is around 800 kilometers away, so you can probably reach it in 20 hours of flying. Can you reach the north-most province in 20 hours?¡± Pryce asked urgently.
¡°That will be¡close,¡± Fathom huffed indecisively. ¡°I can reach it if I go fast, or if the wind is good.¡±
Pryce didn¡¯t reply to this, and only paced as he muttered to himself. Fathom reached out with a forelimb and blocked the human¡¯s path in order to grab his attention.
¡°What?¡± Pryce asked, a little irritably.
¡°You have not explained everything that the other humans told you,¡± Fathom said drily.
¡°Oh¡right, sorry,¡± Pryce said before reading the message and explaining the words that Fathom didn¡¯t know.
¡°You said it took your ship 20 days to get here, right? How can this ship come here in 10 days?¡± Fathom asked after he had understood the message.
If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
¡°Yes, our ship can go fast enough to reach here in ten days, but bad weather and a big storm made my ship get here in¡20 days,¡± Pryce said absently. He had skipped past the unfavorable ocean currents as he hadn¡¯t taught the dragon that word yet, but that factor was unlikely to change. ¡°The word for how water moves is ¡®current¡¯, and the direction of the current in the ocean was bad, it made our ship move slower than it should have,¡± Pryce said, half talking to Fathom and half thinking out loud.
¡°So the next ship will be here after day 100,¡± Fathom concluded.
¡°Yes¡that is good, thank you for making me think better,¡± Pryce said, taking a few calming breaths. ¡°But we still do not have much time, the solstice is on day 102.¡±
¡°Do we¡need to go to solstice-celebration?¡± Fathom asked, slow and uncertain.
¡°That¡is a good question,¡± Pryce answered thoughtfully. ¡°Is it better to tell many dragons together about humans, or to go find the humans first? Can dragons fly over other dragon territories?¡± Pryce asked before Fathom could answer his first question.
¡°Yes, but only if we do not land for long,¡± Fathom answered. ¡°And only if they see us,¡± he added a little mischievously.
¡°Then it might be better to go and find the humans first, then we can work on telling other dragons about us,¡± Pryce said.
¡°This is good, but not¡great,¡± Fathom said slowly. ¡°What I mean is, we spent much time talking about how to do things at the solstice, but now we are not using that plan.¡±
¡°I know what you mean, but it¡¯s not all bad,¡± Pryce shrugged. ¡°We still need to tell other dragons about humans, we will just do it later, and more slowly. For now, we need a new plan to find the next ship.¡±
Fathom groaned.
¡°I landed this ship here because the ship was closest here, but we were supposed to land here, where the next ship is going,¡± Pryce said, pointing at the red X on the map. ¡°But this next ship will want to try and rescue my group of humans, so they will almost definitely land here to find us.¡±
¡°What if they don¡¯t land there?¡± Fathom asked.
¡°Do you think you can fly maybe five hundred kilometers up and down the beach? They should land somewhere there,¡± Pryce asked.
¡°That is not very hard, I think I will be healed when that day is here,¡± Fathom said confidently, but not without casting a longing glance at his still-bound wing. ¡°But dragons who have territory here will see us if we fly there many times, they will not like that,¡± Fathom warned.
¡°So we can bring them gifts, bottles will work, right?¡±
¡°Yes, that will make them happy,¡± Fathom reluctantly, evidently not very eager to give away things even if they weren¡¯t technically his.
¡°Good, now I was thinking we can get some help. Do you know other dragons who might want to help us, or might like to learn about humans?¡± Pryce asked. ¡°I can give them things to help us.¡±
¡°I don¡¯t need other dragons to help,¡± Fathom grumbled pridefully, looking wounded at the suggestion that he was not enough for this task.
¡°Yes, I know you are more than enough help, but more dragons mean we can see more land, and that means we can find the ship sooner,¡± Pryce said placatingly.
¡°I understand,¡± Fathom grumbled discontentedly, not sounding appeased in the least.
¡°Do you think Celeste would like to help us?¡± Pryce asked, hoping this would be less offensive to the dragon¡¯s pride.
Fathom perked up, spines flaring at the name of his daughter. ¡°Yes¡she will like to talk to you very much,¡± he said in somewhat nostalgic tones. ¡°She asked me many questions when she was small, many questions I could not answer.¡±
¡°Sounds like she gets that from you,¡± Pryce said, though this turn of phrase seemed to confuse Fathom. ¡°Wanting to learn things is called ¡®curiosity¡¯, and it sounds like she is curious like you are.¡±
¡°Yes,¡± Fathom said melancholically. ¡°I have not seen her since she left. She is an adult now.¡± The dragon bowed his head as he said this, clearly hesitant to be reunited with his daughter.
¡°Why do you not want to see Celeste again?¡± Pryce asked.
¡°I failed her,¡± Fathom snorted bluntly. ¡°She had to leave because I could not protect her. Other dragons will not attack one who is not an adult yet, it was safer for her to leave.¡±
¡°Couldn¡¯t you have left with her? Find a new home?¡± Pryce asked hesitantly.
¡°...maybe, but maybe we will not find-¡± Fathom said before shaking his head. ¡°No, that is wrong. I stayed to protect our home, and because I did not want to leave the place Abyss died.¡±
¡°I see¡that is a hard decision,¡± Pryce said, walking up to Fathom¡¯s lowered head to comfort him. ¡°Where is she now?¡± He asked quietly after a few moments of silence.
¡°Not very far, maybe ten hours of flying north,¡± Fathom answered. ¡°She is living with two other adults.¡±
¡°Two other adults?¡± Pryce asked, surprised. ¡°Are they in a clan together?¡±
¡°I do not think so. It is strange, but she lived there before she was ten years old,¡± Fathom said, flattening his spines in a draconic frown.
¡°Do you think it¡¯s a good idea to see them?¡± Pryce asked.
¡°That¡should not be dangerous, one of them cannot fly,¡± Fathom noted contemplatively.
¡°Can¡¯t fly?¡± Pryce asked, taken aback.
¡°Yes, she was hurt very bad a long time ago. The other dragon helps her live.¡±
Pryce was surprised by this compassionate behavior, but it was not surprising that some mates would love each other more than others¡unless the other was acting out of some form of responsibility. ¡°Do you know anything about these two dragons?¡±
¡°Not very much, but I do not think they are dangerous. I think they helped Celeste, so I think they will not be dangerous.¡±
¡°Alright, we will go see them when you can fly,¡± Pryce nodded. ¡°I¡¯ll bring something good to give them, if they have been protecting Celeste.¡±
¡°Yes, that is a good idea,¡± Fathom said. ¡°Maybe¡I should give them something, to thank them,¡± he added a little reluctantly.
Pryce nodded, surprised that Fathom would voluntarily give something when he was not obligated to. Perhaps he was rubbing off on the dragon?
¡°Please try and teach me more dragon words, I want to try again,¡± Pryce said, changing topics.
¡°Why? You can not hear our words very well,¡± Fathom grumbled in annoyance. He was not a very patient teacher when Pryce struggled so much to make any progress.
¡°What if I need to understand dragons, and you are not with me?¡± Pryce asked.
¡°Why would I not be with you?¡± Fathom asked, genuinely confused.
Pryce shrugged. ¡°I don¡¯t know, maybe in the future I need to understand what dragons are saying, and maybe you are sleeping or hurt, and you cannot help me.¡±
Fathom rumbled discontentedly, but eventually agreed with additional coaxing. The rest of the day was spent with Fathom experimenting different ways to teach Pryce his language. Simply repeating simple words in Draconic was not very effective, as Pryce could not physically reproduce the sounds. In the end, they worked out a system where they would talk casually, but Fathom would replace some English words with draconic ones, and then Pryce would have to guess the meaning until he got it right.
It was a slow and painful process, but Pryce felt like he made some progress by the end of the day.
¡°Thank you for teaching me today,¡± he had said later that night; he was grateful that Fathom had continued to teach him despite the dragon¡¯s visible ¨C and sometimes vocal ¨C impatience.
Fathom had curled up on his bed, and his head was tucked underneath a wing as he mumbled something that sounded vaguely like ¡°You¡¯re welcome¡±.
Pryce chuckled before turning to go to sleep as well. He was tired from the day¡¯s work, but not in an unpleasant way. The bone-deep discomfort of not knowing what to expect or plan for had faded, and he slept with a lighter heart knowing he would not have to talk to dozens of unfamiliar and unpredictable dragons at once.
[JOURNAL ENTRY]
Day 60,
I received the message from The Mainland today, the new plan is to intercept or meet the rescue ship before they encounter any dragons. The fact that many dragons will be at the solstice celebration instead of protecting their territories will mean that we will be less likely to encounter any dragons.
We will need to tell them about humanity eventually, but at this moment there¡¯s no bad blood between our people; the most important thing is to keep it that way.
I didn¡¯t want to think about things this way, but the truth is humanity poses a far greater threat to dragons than the reverse. The last thing I want is for some power-hungry idiots to use an unfortunate incident to justify the invasion and subjugation of this island.
On a lighter note, I plan to continue my efforts to learn Draconic, at least until Fathom¡¯s wing is healed enough to remove the chain and stitches. Once freed, he¡¯ll essentially need physiotherapy to regain the ability to fly.
I don¡¯t know how long that will take, but once he¡¯s recuperated we¡¯ll go and meet his daughter.
I''m a little anxious, but if Fathom thinks it''s safe then things should be fine.
Chapter 36, Day 61 – 70: Cultures
[JOURNAL ENTRY]
Day 61,
I am making progress in learning Draconic, though it is very difficult. The sentence structure is similar to English in some cases, but completely different in most others. For example, the sentence ¡°I do not know¡± in Draconic would be said using the words ?I-not-know?, which is quite familiar, but something like ¡°Where are you going?¡± translated literally would be ?You go where??.
There¡¯s also certain ¡®filler¡¯ words like ¡®to¡¯, but they are used in other circumstances. An example would be a word that sounds like ¡®tuh¡¯, which is used when mentioning possessions. Example: Saying, ¡°This is my food¡± would be something like, ?This-is-I-tuh-food?.
Even more confusingly, there are no tenses in Draconic, or at least not really. The sentence structure changes, and different words are used instead. There¡¯s one word that is appended onto the end of a sentence to denote past tense (which sounds like ¡®guh¡¯), but there¡¯s no such equivalent for the future tense. To denote the future, certain words are used to mean ¡®I want to do X¡¯ or ¡®I will do X¡¯, but the words meaning ¡®will¡¯ and ¡®can¡¯ sound almost the same to me, which further complicates things.
I was always bothered by people who held the ¡°I¡¯m too old to learn,¡± type of mentality, but I can¡¯t help but think that this would be easier if I were a younger man.
Whenever I get tired of learning Draconic I read out common words from a dictionary to Fathom, that way we cover a lot of the rarer words. I¡¯m skipping some words that would be better explained at a later time, and he already knows most of the common words, so it shouldn¡¯t take more than five to ten days to cover the rest.
In terms of medical progress, Fathom went down to the beach today with significantly less difficulty than before. I¡¯m glad he is recovering pretty quickly, though as he gets better he also gets increasingly more annoyed by the chain on his wing. His wing doesn¡¯t ache when I palpate it, so I think I¡¯ll have to take it off tomorrow.
I¡¯ve also created many sucrose-fructose solutions for the penicillium mold to ¡®infect¡¯. The fermentation process will take a long time, but it is hardly complicated. I¡¯ll begin extracting the penicillin on day 71, 240 hours from now.
[Day 62]
¡°...Okay, I promise,¡± Fathom grumbled reluctantly.
Pryce had spent a long five minutes explaining to Fathom that the wing-bone would not be at full strength yet, and that if he tried flying right now it could immediately break again. Fathom was unwilling to make a forever-promise that he would not ever fly again unless given permission, so Pryce had to add in the condition that he could fly if given permission or if 30 days had passed, whichever happened first.
It didn¡¯t take long to remove the chain and stitches, and the rods fell away easily without support. Pryce examined the wing closely for any oddities, but it seemed to be fairly straight with only a moderately visible scar where the initial wound and surgical opening had been.
Immediately after Pryce let go of the wing Fathom wrapped it around himself so that he could scratch various areas with the backside of a knuckle, rumbling loudly in satisfaction as he did so. A minute later he extended the wing back and forth experimentally.
¡°Start slow, and stop moving if it starts to hurt,¡± Pryce cautioned.
¡°This¡feels good,¡± Fathom said, eyes wide and sounding more disbelieving than happy. ¡°This feels better than¡before I got hurt,¡± the dragon said quietly, his voice tinged with wonder. ¡°It almost feels like my wing before I broke it the first time,¡± he added absently as he tested his range of motion with a wide sweep, lightly buffeting Pryce.
¡°You can try to flap your wing harder until it starts to hurt,¡± Pryce advised.
Fathom stepped away from Pryce to safely extend his other wing, and began flapping them both with incrementally greater force. He stopped after the third flap which kicked up a swirl of dust. ¡°My wing hurts a little bit, I will try again tomorrow,¡± he said, folding both wings against his back.
¡°Good, does your wing hurt very much?¡±
¡°No, it only hurt a little bit, and it does not hurt now,¡± Fathom said, emulating a human gesture by shaking his head, though it looked odd when performed by a dragon. He paused for a moment, then surprised Pryce by nudging him appreciatively. ¡°Thank you,¡± Fathom said sincerely. ¡°When I am healed, I think I can fly better than before.¡±
¡°Oh, you¡¯re welcome,¡± Pryce said, looking up at the dragon who excitedly lashed his tail-tip in anticipation of the day he would be healed. ¡°Did you fly much better before you broke your wing the first time?¡± The malunion seemed relatively minor to him, but perhaps it had a significant effect on his flight.
¡°Yes, I could fly better,¡± Fathom confirmed with a bob of his head. ¡°Only a bit better, but a bit is very important in a fight, and it felt¡wrong, not good like it was before. Maybe it is like if you need to run when your leg cannot bend very well,¡± he added speculatively.
¡°That makes sense,¡± Pryce nodded in understanding. The condition was minor, but it kept Fathom from being his best, like a slight limp.
¡°Do you¡want to learn more Draconic?¡± Fathom asked, only hesitating a little to offer the lessons that he had so little patience for.
¡°Yes, let¡¯s get started,¡± Pryce smiled.
[JOURNAL ENTRY]
Day 62,
Fathom¡¯s wing is healing well, and he was able to flap his wings with a significant amount of force before the ache in his bones stopped him. After that he asked if I wanted Draconic lessons, which marks the first time he¡¯s ever offered that.
Fathom believes he will be able to fly better than before once he finishes healing. I suspected as much, though I didn''t want to raise his expectations in case something went wrong in the healing process.
I realized something today. Humans also use ¡°I see/I can see that¡± to convey understanding, even for things that aren¡¯t actually visible. We don¡¯t think about it much, but we say that for things that can¡¯t be seen because our sight is our most effective sense. Expressions involving other senses do exist, of course, but they are much less common.
I bring this up because dragons have similar expressions, but their very language describes things in a perspective different from humans. For example, there¡¯s only one word for ¡®smell¡¯ and ¡®taste¡¯, probably because dragons use their tongues to do both.
If something is bad, it can ¡®smell/taste bad¡¯ or ¡®sound bad¡¯, even if the subject in question makes no noise and has no odor. One Draconic expression literally means ¡®I can [sense] that happening¡¯, where [sense] can be anything like smell/taste/hear/see, while in English we just have ¡®I can see that happening¡¯
If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
Here¡¯s another: one Draconic expression translates to ¡°I saw it coming,¡± but it literally means something like ¡°I hear(d) it coming early.¡±
[Day 63]
¡°What are you eating?¡± Fathom asked later that day, looking up from his now-empty cauldron of soup at the hardtack Pryce held in his hands.
¡°This is hardtack, it doesn¡¯t taste very good, so I don¡¯t think you will like them,¡± Pryce said, dipping the bread into the soup so that it would soften.
¡°I want some,¡± Fathom requested, not dissuaded at all.
¡°You¡¯re supposed to eat them with soup, because-¡± Pryce said, then remembered that Fathom could chew through bones. ¡°Nevermind, here, try one,¡± he said as he tossed a piece of bread at the dragon, who snatched it out of the air with his jaws.
Fathom crunched loudly on the relatively small piece of bread, and for a few moments he looked as though he wasn¡¯t sure if he liked it. ¡°This does not taste good,¡± he said eventually, ¡°but this does not taste bad, and the¡hardsoft is good, I think.¡±
¡°Hardsoft is texture,¡± Pryce chuckled, amused.
¡°Can I eat more?¡±
¡°Yes, as much as you want,¡± Pryce said emphatically.
[JOURNAL ENTRY]
Day 63,
Nothing much happened today, but Fathom is certainly happy at having regained use of his wing; he¡¯s been waving it around just because he can, and I later noticed that he slept curled in the opposite direction to tuck his head under his healing wing.
He¡¯s also begun to sunbathe with both wings extended in order to catch more sunlight. Interestingly the color of his wings slowly darkened as they were exposed to sunlight, presumably to absorb more heat.
Apparently it¡¯s a rather pleasant thing for dragons to do, like napping. I¡¯d asked him why he didn¡¯t do that earlier, and he said it¡¯s uncomfortable to extend only one wing. Fair enough.
Fathom¡¯s attempt to exercise his wings went a little better than yesterday. I encouraged him to use more flaps rather than powerful ones to rebuild his muscles, so he spent some time today ''flying'' on the ground in place awkwardly before getting bored and asking me if gliding down to the beach counted as flying. I¡¯m very glad he bothered to consult with me first, though it was clear he regretted asking for clarification the moment I told him that it was a type of flying, and that he could try gliding in three days, just to be safe.
It¡¯s kind of hilarious in a mundane way, just how much an apex predator weighing in at over 4,000 kilograms can sulk.
[JOURNAL ENTRY]
Day 64,
Fathom was able to generate a much stronger gust of wind today than he could a mere two days ago. He seems to have regained some of his lost muscle mass, though his hide is still loose here and there. He certainly doesn¡¯t need any encouragement to eat anymore food; we¡¯re rapidly running through the ship¡¯s supplies as it is. It¡¯s a good thing we packed a lot of non-perishables, though Fathom expressed discontentment at the fact that humans use precious iron to make canned food.
Later in the day he taught me about Draconic numbers, and they¡¯re surprisingly very well structured. One-through-ten are unique sounds, of course, but ¡®eleven¡¯ is ¡®ten-one¡¯, ¡®twelve¡¯ is ¡®ten-two¡¯, and the rest of the numbers follow this sensible format. Larger numbers like ¡®One-hundred-and-twelve¡¯ would be ¡®One-hundred-one-ten-two¡¯.
I wonder if this makes it easier for hatchlings to learn math?
The penicillium colonies are doing their job well and thoroughly infecting the vessels I placed them in. There¡¯s really not much to report on that front, it¡¯s literally one step away from watching grass grow.
[JOURNAL ENTRY]
Day 65,
Learned more Draconic, and Fathom spent more time essentially doing physical therapy.
I¡¯ve been making more progress with my lessons, sometimes Fathom will even throw an entire Draconic sentence at me. It is rare that I can correctly guess the translation, but on occasion I am able to comprehend what he¡¯s saying. Admittedly I only understand one or two key words and guess the rest using context, but progress is progress.
Fathom was able to kick up a sizable dust storm with his wings today. He seemed quite satisfied with that, though he was disappointed again when I denied his request to try gliding one day earlier. If he were a human I would force him to wait for far longer ¨C clean breaks usually mend in one to two months, and regaining full strength can take as many as five ¨C he''s already able to use his wing quite a bit despite the fact it''s only been 25 days, so he''s clearly healing much faster than a human. I felt bad about rejecting his request for permission, but I will stand by my decision to have him wait until tomorrow.
Gliding will be a good exercise for him, in both the mental and physical sense. Save for pulling up from a dive, the most strenuous part of flying is the process of taking off; but that strain will be greatly lessened if all he does is glide. Put simply, this form of exercise should aid in his recovery while being relatively safe.
Fingers crossed.
[JOURNAL ENTRY]
Day 66,
Today I asked Fathom to glide a short distance first, just in case something went wrong. He obliged begrudgingly, and climbed up to some higher ground and gained a running start in order to glide a few of his body lengths.
When this didn¡¯t strain him much he tried gliding longer distances, and then slow turns in wide arcs. A few more of these tests later I gave him permission to glide down to the beach, which he did without issue aside from a slightly ungraceful landing that strained his legs a little, though no harm was done.
Fathom has been overjoyed at being able to ¡®fly¡¯ again, even if it¡¯s really just gliding. Even so, it''s good to see proof of his recovery, and his enthusiasm is contagious.
I''ve seen it before he was injured, of course, but dragons are so large that watching one take flight feels almost magical.
[JOURNAL ENTRY]
Day 67,
Fathom was a bit sore from yesterday¡¯s exertions, but he was eager to glide down the mountain, climb back up, and glide down again to build up his strength. He also ate more now that he¡¯s exerting himself like this, but I¡¯m quite sure he will be able to hunt again before food is an issue.
We talked about his liquid flame today, and I decided to refer to the organ that spews fire (located on the interior of the lower jaw) as ¡®liquid fire gland¡¯, and the organ that stores the liquid ¡®liquid fire sacs¡¯. The liquid fire gland is distinct from the gland that expels hydrogen (which I¡¯m calling the gas fire gland), so they need to be distinguished.
I¡¯ll hold off on giving them specific names until I learn more about the structure of a dragon¡¯s internal organs¡though I¡¯m not looking forward to that; I can¡¯t imagine dissecting a dragon can mean anything good has happened. I realize that I had taken the knowledge of our own biology for granted; it must not have been easy to research.
[JOURNAL ENTRY]
Day 68,
I¡¯m starting to have a general grasp on the most common nouns in Draconic, and Fathom is slowly expanding the vocabulary that we use day by day. He seems to have gotten over most of his dislike of teaching now that I¡¯ve actually made some progress, and he does seem to enjoy being the one to explain things for a change.
I forgot to mention this earlier, but he¡¯s much more nimble now, and he can climb his way up and down the mountain without much difficulty ¨C though he almost exclusively glides down these days. He says his injuries still ache, but they don¡¯t hinder him much anymore.
[JOURNAL ENTRY]
Day 69,
Nothing much happened today, Fathom spent most of the day resting his sore wings and teaching me Draconic.
My grasp of the language has improved incrementally these past few days, and I now know enough to be certain that with enough time, experience, and context, I would be able to understand most of their speech. Only dragons can teach Draconic ¨C for obvious reasons ¨C so it will be a slow process to get other humans fluent in comprehension, but it won¡¯t be impossible.
I imagine that Celeste will learn English much more quickly than Fathom, as Fathom himself can help teach her which will surely be more effective than me using pantomime and point-and-name.
[JOURNAL ENTRY]
Day 70,
Fathom asked me if he could start flying now that he¡¯s been gliding for four days, and I allowed it on the condition that he spends at most a minute up in the sky for the first attempt.
It went well, and he was able to gain a considerable amount of altitude in a short amount of time. Upon descending he reported that his wing bone was a bit sore, but it didn¡¯t hurt very much. I managed to convince him to refrain from flying for tomorrow at least, he can try it again on Day 72.
His bodily condition continues to improve, though his blue color is still slowly fading. Right now his hide is the color of a dull blue sky, and I imagine it will take him some time to regain that color he once had.
The penicillium colonies are doing great, harvesting begins tomorrow.
Chapter 37, Day 71 - 74: Synthesis
[Day 71]
¡°This is¡a lot of things,¡± Fathom said, peering into the cargo hold curiously. Pryce had cleared up a good portion of the hold to make a workspace so that Fathom could see what he was doing, though he was careful not to place anything too irreplaceable within reach of the dragon¡¯s muzzle. ¡°Very complicated.¡±
¡°Yes, these are all things I need to make penicillin,¡± Pryce said, hauling the last jug of mold broth into the hold.
¡°How do you take the antibiotic out from the mold broth?¡± Fathom asked, the past week having made his English very nearly fluent.
¡°This is really complicated,¡± Pryce warned.
¡°Really?¡± Fathom echoed, questioning.
¡°Oh, that means something like ¡®very much¡¯, but it can also mean doing something that is true, like how I cannot ¡®really¡¯ do science if I do not have equipment like this,¡± Pryce explained with some difficulty. He was introducing Fathom to more casual language, but that was also more difficult to teach as its rules were much looser than formal language.
¡°You are saying you cannot really do science without equipment, because science without equipment is like false science?¡± Fathom asked.
¡°Yeah, that¡¯s right,¡± Pryce said with a nod. ¡°I can explain what I¡¯m doing here, but I can¡¯t teach you everything yet,¡± he forewarned.
¡°I think I can understand this if you explain it,¡± Fathom rumbled confidently, clearly doubtful that there was that much beyond his comprehension at this point.
Pryce smirked as he gestured at the apparatus he had set up. ¡°Mold-broth goes here, and it mixes with something called phosphoric acid, that drips down onto the amyl acetate, the stuff that goes over the edge is penicillin-rich solution, then that gets mixed with an alkali buffer - specifically ammonia and ammonium chloride. The stuff that goes on the bottom is concentrated penicillin-rich solution, which I will pour over activated carbon which will clean the solution, and then I filter that to get a liquid that has a lot of penicillin.¡±
[1]
¡°That is¡a lot of new words,¡± Fathom said delicately.
¡°I can try to teach you about this, if you want,¡± Pryce offered.
The dragon snorted in mock exasperation at this. ¡°You will do that anyway, even if I don¡¯t want to learn.¡±
¡°Yes, but you do, don''t you?¡± Pryce asked with a knowing smile.
¡°...Just tell me what phos-phoric acid does,¡± Fathom grumbled in defeat, resting his head on the floor in preparation for a long explanation.
¡°What is that?¡± Fathom asked, bringing his head up so quickly that his horns clanked against the ceiling.
¡°This is mercury, it¡¯s a metal that¡¯s a liquid at room temperature,¡± Pryce said, swirling the dense metal around the glass jar. ¡°I would let you play with this, but it¡¯s actually poisonous.¡±
¡°Metal can be poisonous? Do humans eat metal?¡± Fathom asked, confused by both the liquid metal and the warning.
¡°No, it¡¯s poisonous to breathe and touch,¡± Pryce said, checking to make sure his PPE was all still on and secure. ¡°If you breathe or touch too much mercury, you will become insane and die slowly and painfully.¡±
¡°Then why do you have this?¡± Fathom asked in alarm, pulling his head back a little.
¡°It¡¯s useful. This glass thing is called a Sprengel pump, it can take the air out of a container.¡± The pump was an elegant device made purely of glass and rubber fittings. With it, he could easily suck the air out of a glass vessel just by pouring mercury into the reservoir at the top, which siphoned mercury through a narrow U-shaped tube that branched off to connect to the glass vessel. The drops of falling mercury would trap air between them, slowly but steadily pulling air out of the tube and container. This process could create pressures as low as one one-hundred-millionth of an atmosphere inside the glass vessel ¨C very nearly a vacuum.
The device was primarily used to create vacuum tubes and lightbulbs, but Pryce used it to lower the pressure so much that any liquids in the solution would vaporize, leaving behind relatively pure penicillin powder.
¡°Air pressure is like the weight of air, it is high near the ground and low if you fly up,¡± Pryce said.
¡°Yes, I can feel air pressure change if I fly very high up,¡± Fathom said, nodding in understanding. ¡°But why do you want to take out air?¡±
¡°If air pressure is low, liquids like water will become gas more easily. Remember how the soup had bubbles? That¡¯s because the soup is boiling, which means the soup is becoming a gas. For water to boil, it needs to be at 100 degrees Centragrade. If you try to make it hotter, it will boil faster, but not get hotter. It¡¯s easier to show you,¡± Pryce said, seeing that Fathom looked a bit confused.
¡°You can see water in here, right? I¡¯ll take the air out of this glass container, and it will start boiling.¡± He set up the Sprengel pump, then occupied himself with other tasks while the pump worked. Almost half an hour later, Fathom watched with wide eyes as the water inside the beaker began to bubble.
¡°See?¡± Pryce said, touching the glass. ¡°Water is boiling without being hot. If we wait longer, the water will all go away.¡±
¡°Yes, this is very interesting,¡± Fathom said, eyes still glued to the water that seemed to be bubbling by itself. ¡°Some animals fly very high up, but they do not boil, do you know why?¡±
¡°Good question, we use ¡®pascals¡¯ as units of pressure, but it¡¯s easier to understand if we use ¡®atmospheres¡¯ as a unit. This means one atmosphere is the pressure you¡¯re feeling right now. The room temperature right now is around 20 degrees Centragrade, and for water to boil at 20 degrees the air pressure has to be around 0.01 atmospheres. That means there has to be 100 times less air than normal. Even if some animal can fly 10 kilometers up
[2] ¨C which I don¡¯t think they can ¨C the air pressure would be around 0.25 or 0.3 atmospheres, which is much higher than 0.01.¡±
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
¡°What is a Pascal? How high do you have to be for water to boil like this?¡± Fathom asked, pointing at the bubbling beaker with his snout.
¡°A pascal is a unit of pressure using other units, and it means one newton over a square meter. You remember newtons, right?¡±
¡°Yes, of course,¡± Fathom snorted. ¡°One newton is kilogram times meter per second squared.¡±
¡°Good, a pascal is the force of one newton over a square meter, and a kilopascal is one thousand pascals. One atmosphere of pressure has 202 kilopascals
[3],¡± Pryce explained. ¡°And I¡¯m not sure about how high you have to be for water to boil at room temperature, but it¡¯s at least 20 kilometers. You don¡¯t need to know these yet, I can explain more later,¡± Pryce reassured after Fathom spent a few minutes silently considering these numbers.
¡°I think I understand a little, but if there is so much pressure, why are things not¡?¡± Fathom asked, trailing off as he pulled his head back to pantomime crushing something between his claws.
¡°Why are things not crushed? That¡¯s a good question. Take this piece of paper,¡± Pryce said, ripping out a sheet from his notebook, which Fathom delicately pinched between the tips of his talons. ¡°Now crush it with two hands, like this,¡± Pryce said, placing the sheet between his palms as if he were praying.
¡°But I can¡¯t crush this,¡± Fathom objected without even trying.
¡°Yes, but why?¡± Pryce asked invitingly.
¡°Because I am pushing on both sides-¡± Fathom said, then paused in realization. ¡°Things are not crushed because air is on both sides?¡±
¡°Yep,¡± Pryce said, smiling as he collected the mercury that had dripped out into the collection jar. ¡°Do you want to look at the mercury up close?¡± He asked before he poured it back into the reservoir. ¡°I promise it¡¯s safe,¡± he added upon seeing Fathom hesitantly pull his head back, his sense of curiosity clearly at war with his sense of danger.
The dragon nodded a second later, and Pryce poured a little of the mercury into a small container before clamping it shut. He held the jar up to Fathom and shook it lightly so that the dragon could see the beads of liquid metal splitting apart and merging together. The dragon was deeply captivated by the unnatural sight, and Pryce was a little sorry that he couldn¡¯t give some away without it being a health risk.
Eventually he had to go back to work, much to Fathom¡¯s visible disappointment.
[JOURNAL ENTRY]
Day 71,
I¡¯ve begun the process of extracting and concentrating penicillin today, and explained the process as well as I could to Fathom, who watched as I worked. Using the Sprengel pump I was able to dehydrate the filtered and concentrated penicillin to get 10.31 grams of familiar brownish powder, which I washed with an ether to further purify it. I don¡¯t have the equipment to test the purity, but it resembles what I created back home and the pH is neutral, so the bases and acids have either been neutralized or washed away. I¡¯m reasonably confident this is safe to use, and I¡¯ve stored what I created in a waterproof test tube inside of a waterproof metal flask, which I submerged under a rock in the cave river.
I obtained a yield of 1.02 grams per liter of broth, which is lower than I hoped but expected given the suboptimal equipment I have.
Fathom did some more gliding; he¡¯s gotten a lot more adept at it with practice and recovery, and can land gently almost every time now. He didn¡¯t exert himself for very long today, probably so that he doesn¡¯t strain himself too much before tomorrow¡¯s flight.
[JOURNAL ENTRY]
Day 72,
Fathom tried to take off from the ground today, but again he failed to gain much elevation before switching into a glide out of exhaustion. It seems that taking off is indeed much harder than flying or gliding, but he did manage it, at least for a short time. Fathom insisted on trying one more time after a short break, which I reluctantly allowed. He did do better that time, though not by very much.
Just to be safe, I suggested that he hold onto the ground and flap his wings as hard as he could, but he shot that down quickly by informing me that he could not use his full range of motion on the ground, as his wings would hit the stone beneath him.
More interestingly, Fathom told me that dragons used all of their limbs to fly, and that flexing the muscles in the legs and arms helps power the wings. It certainly sounds efficient, as it makes what would otherwise be ¡®dead weight¡¯ not so. The structure of their muscles and tendons must be very interesting, it¡¯s a shame there¡¯s no way for me to inspect them without causing injury.
I was able to process a lot more of the mold-broth today now that I¡¯ve set up all the required equipment and chemicals, allowing me to produce 50.73 grams of penicillin. I¡¯ve begun growing new batches in the old containers, of course.
[JOURNAL ENTRY]
Day 73,
Fathom gained more elevation than he was able to yesterday, though he still held himself back as he promised he would. His wing bone seems to have regained enough strength that it doesn¡¯t hinder his flight ¨C an amazingly fast recovery time. Aerial maneuvers would be another story, of course, but regardless I think it should be completely healed in another two or three weeks.
He¡¯s been spending more time sleeping with how much exercise he¡¯s been doing, but that¡¯s hardly surprising. I¡¯ve been trying to practice Draconic in my mind, but that is much easier said than done.
Used up the rest of the first batch of mold-broth to produce 33.84 grams of penicillin, now I wait for the second batch to ferment.
[Day 74]
¡°Aren¡¯t you going to exercise?¡± Pryce asked Fathom, who had been sunning himself for several hours now.
¡°Tomorrow,¡± Fathom said shortly.
¡°Why? Did you hurt yourself yesterday?¡± Pryce asked, a little concerned. The dragon usually didn¡¯t need any encouragement to exert himself, at least when it came to flying.
¡°No, I am resting today because I want to fly tomorrow,¡± Fathom clarified, turning his head to frown at Pryce.
¡°Oh okay,¡± Pryce said, relieved. ¡°But haven¡¯t you already been flying?¡±
¡°That¡¯s not really flying,¡± the dragon said as he rolled his eyes ¨C a gesture he had only recently picked up. ¡°Tomorrow I will really fly,¡± he said, with particular emphasis on the adverb.
¡°Well¡that¡¯s okay, I guess, but you¡¯re not going to fly like you¡¯re in a fight, right?¡± Pryce asked sternly.
¡°I said I will fly, not fly like I¡¯m in a fight,¡± Fathom grumbled shortly, turning his head back around to nap.
Pryce raised an eyebrow at this uncharacteristically ill-tempered behavior. He was about to say something when he noticed that Fathom¡¯s tail was lashing¡anxiously? There wasn¡¯t anything he could say without falsely raising Fathom¡¯s hopes, so he held his tongue and turned to write today¡¯s journal entry.
[JOURNAL ENTRY]
Day 74,
Fathom plans to test himself tomorrow, and I think his wing has healed well enough to allow it. He¡¯s already proven he can take off (a little), which is the most strenuous part of flying, so I don¡¯t think a little more exertion would hurt.
He hasn¡¯t been reckless at all either, so I think he can be trusted to judge his own limits at this point.
Fathom was a little cranky today; I¡¯m pretty sure he¡¯s nervous¡I don¡¯t blame him. He¡¯s been injured for a long time, and tomorrow he will find out if he can truly fly again.
Chapter 38, Day 75, Part 1: The Wind Beneath Ones Wings
Fathom was tired, but he could not fall asleep, not truly. Sometimes he was certain he had only blinked, but then he saw that Pryce had changed positions. The few periods of unconsciousness he had experienced were restless and fitful, and he considered waking Pryce several times, if only to talk, but the human had not slept well either ¨C his breathing had only slowed to a deep sleep a few hours ago.
He dozed off at some point, then stirred awake to see the skies lit by twilight. About sixty beats later the sun rose over the land, and with it his apprehension.
He would be flying soon.
Fathom pushed himself up and stretched silently so as to not wake Pryce. He cupped a wing around his head to check the human¡¯s breathing and heart rate again; he was still asleep.
Pryce had already told him that he could fly today, and for a moment the thought of sneaking off entered his mind ¨C but only a moment. Pryce had more than saved his life; he could wait a little longer.
Fathom slowly laid back down, the tip of his snout well within reach of the human¡¯s arm.
And waited.
Pryce stirred, and Fathom blinked awake. It took him a moment to realize that he had dozed off, though not for long, judging by the amount of sunlight outside.
¡°Are you awake?¡± He whispered, though not very successfully.
¡°Close enough,¡± Pryce mumbled as he sat up from his sleeping bag and wiped his eyes. ¡°I¡¯d say good morning, but it doesn¡¯t look like either of us slept well. How long were you waiting for me to wake up?¡±
¡°Not long.¡±
¡°Good,¡± Pryce yawned. ¡°Do you want to eat something first, or-¡±
¡°No, I will fly better without eating,¡± Fathom said shortly, more rudely than he intended. The anxiety that gnawed at his hearts was old and familiar; he¡¯d felt it all those years ago when he had recovered from his broken wing, but the worst part had been that smidgeon of hope that perhaps a bent bone would not hinder his ability to fly.
Now he was in an uncomfortably similar situation; his wing broken, now healed, and all that was left to do was to fly. He had tried to smother any hope that he felt with excuses or reasons, but nothing could stop the intense, almost painful desire to relive those old memories of unhindered flight.
Fathom blinked as he felt something touch his foreleg.
¡°It¡¯s going to be okay,¡± Pryce said reassuringly. ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll be alright, whatever happens.¡±
Fathom¡¯s spines flattened involuntarily, belying the skepticism that was his immediate response. He was doubtful that Pryce could understand exactly what he felt, seeing as he was not a dragon, but the human¡¯s words of comfort did dredge up an older memory.
¡°...Yes,¡± Fathom said, almost absently. ¡°The sun will rise.¡±
Pryce tilted his head. ¡°But the sun¡¯s already up, isn¡¯t it? Or is that an expression in your language?¡±
¡°Something like that,¡± Fathom sighed. ¡°It means that some things will happen, no matter what. It does not matter what you think, or what you want, some things you cannot control, like the sun.¡±
¡°That¡makes sense,¡± Pryce said, wrinkling the skin on his forehead as he did whenever he was thinking about something new. ¡°So, that expression means ¡®don¡¯t worry about things you can¡¯t control¡¯, right?¡±
¡°More or less,¡± Fathom shrugged. ¡°I can fly well or I cannot; there is nothing I can do that will change this truth. You reminded me of that,¡± he said, nodding his head in a half-bow. ¡°Thank you.¡±
¡°You¡¯re welcome,¡± Pryce nodded back, looking unsure of what else to say.
Fathom felt a twinge of guilt in the silence that followed; he should not have been cross with Pryce yesterday, even if he was anxious. ¡°You can eat first, if you want. I will wait,¡± he said, by way of an awkward apology.
¡°No, I¡¯m not hungry,¡± Pryce said, gesturing towards the exit of the cave. ¡°I¡¯m nervous to see if you can fly too.¡±
Fathom hardly needed any encouragement to go outside, though he did turn his head around as he walked to ask, ¡°Why are you nervous?¡±
¡°I ¨C hopefully ¨C fixed your wing. If it doesn¡¯t work, that¡¯s kind of my fault,¡± Pryce shrugged, staying by the cave entrance.
¡°You are being ridiculous again,¡± Fathom snorted derisively as he walked on, stopping two body lengths away so that his ascent wouldn¡¯t knock Pryce over. ¡°You made it better, so it can¡¯t be your fault.¡±
¡°Maybe, but that¡¯s just how I feel,¡± Pryce smiled. ¡°Anyways; good luck.¡±
Fathom nodded absently as he fanned his wings, warming them up until Pryce had to shield his eyes from the dust that he kicked up. Then Fathom coiled the muscles in his legs and leapt upwards ¨C not as high as he would have liked as he had not yet regained all of his strength, but it was enough; each gust of wind that his wings forced downwards gained him more elevation. His nictitating membranes instinctively slid over his eyes as he climbed, and in a few dozen wingbeats he had gained sufficient height to flare out his wings, panning into a slow and sedate glide.
At this altitude the cool air rushing past his wings was a familiar and immensely soothing feeling, so much so that he took several moments to savor this sensation that he had missed so dearly, and closed his eyes to calm himself as he prepared for what he had planned next.
Fathom folded his left wing partway, letting his right wing push him into a roll. A few revolutions later he flung both wings out as far as he could, his breath caught in anticipation as his wings snapped taut, the bones of his wings retaining their proper shape as he arrested his rotation and allowed him to peter out into a glide.
The breath Fathom had been holding came out in an explosive gust as he slowly allowed himself to realize that he had done a perfect, unhampered roll, with only minor aches as a result.
Giddy exuberance rose effervescently from deep within his being as Fathom flung himself into an aggressive clockwise climb, ascending faster than he had in years despite his still-healing body. Once he reached the apex of the ascent his fire glands clenched with emotion, and the dragon expelled a cathartic arc of liquid fire though the skies, followed shortly by a clarion roar of pure joy that echoed throughout the mountains.
Some time later Fathom landed roughly, having overexerted himself a bit too much in his high spirits, and he had to stumble a fair distance in order to bleed off the speed he had failed to lose during his landing.
¡°I¡¯m guessing it went well? You didn¡¯t hurt yourself landing, did you?¡± Pryce asked, looking at Fathom for any signs of fresh injury. The dragon in question panted heavily, his sides bellowing in and out like a great balloon, but despite that Fathom snatched the human up in his talons with enough swiftness that Pryce had no chance of escape.
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¡°Thank you thank you thank you!¡± Fathom gasped in a rush with no pause between words, gratefully pressing his forehead against Pryce. ¡°My wing is healed, now I can really, really fly!¡± The dragon cried, his deep voice quavering with emotion as it reverberated through Pryce¡¯s body.
The genuine display of joy warmed Pryce¡¯s heart despite the rather uncomfortable position he was in. Fathom held him very gently despite his exuberance, though that didn¡¯t mean it was very comfortable. Pryce wasn¡¯t quite sure how he should return the odd embrace, so he stroked the fine scales on the dragon¡¯s forehead until Fathom carefully set him down a minute later.
¡°Why did you spit fire?¡± Pryce asked curiously. The flammable liquid had to be extremely energy intensive to produce, and he would have guessed that it was something reserved for special celebrations, but why bother with guessing when he could simply ask?
¡°When dragons feel strong emotions, our liquid fire sacs want to make liquid fire come out,¡± Fathom explained, his spines flaring happily.
Pryce blinked at this explanation ¨C it sounded like crying, but a lot more dramatic. ¡°Okay, is that like crying? Sometimes humans cry when very happy.¡±
¡°No, that is not like crying at all,¡± Fathom said, just quickly enough for it to be a little suspicious. ¡°Fire-spitting is different than crying; dragons only cry when we are very sad.¡±
¡°Uh-huh,¡± Pryce said, skeptical, but not bothering to dwell on the topic. ¡°You¡¯re not completely healed yet, but can you fly better than before? Like before you fought Pathogen, I mean,¡± Pryce clarified.
¡°Yes and no. I can fly better now, but I get tired quickly, so I will need to exercise more,¡± Fathom answered resolutely. ¡°When I am done healing, I will be able to fly much better than before,¡± he added excitedly.
¡°Great, when do you think we can go see Celeste?¡± Pryce asked.
¡°Oh,¡± Fathom said, with somewhat less enthusiasm. Then perked up as he remembered that she had been too young to see him fly properly before. ¡°Maybe we can go in five days, is that good?¡±
¡°Yes, that¡¯s plenty of time,¡± Pryce nodded. He would have preferred to let the mold ferment longer, but it was still an acceptable amount of time.
¡°Good, now let¡¯s go eat, I am hungry,¡± Fathom said, turning towards the ship and mimed walking in place to signify his impatience.
¡°Don¡¯t you want to go hunt something?¡± Pryce asked, a little tired of being a dragon¡¯s personal chef.
¡°Yes, but I will hunt tomorrow. My wings are tired, and your food tastes better,¡± Fathom said without an ounce of shame.
¡°And whose fault is that?¡± Pryce smiled, rolling his eyes as he pushed himself to his feet. The moment he stood up Fathom walked on ahead with a spring in his step, then turned around to restlessly pace laps around Pryce when the human inevitably fell behind.
¡°Here, humans celebrate when someone recovers from sickness, or heals from bad injuries,¡± Pryce said, bringing out a few bottles of wine.
¡°Humans celebrate things like that? That-¡± Fathom said, turning his head away from the bubbling pot of soup to lock eyes with the emerald-green bottles of wine. ¡°-makes sense,¡± he finished without skipping a beat.
¡°What were you going to say?¡± Pryce asked, hiding his amusement under a stern mask.
¡°...that is strange,¡± Fathom admitted. ¡°Dragons do not usually have others to celebrate with, so celebration is rare,¡± he huffed once Pryce stopped snickering.
¡°Yes, yes, that makes sense,¡± Pryce said, opening a few bottles to pour into a sizable bucket. The bucket looked like a comically undersized shot glass in the dragon¡¯s talons, but Fathom didn¡¯t seem to mind as it was easier to grasp than the glass bottles.
¡°You are not going to drink alcohol?¡± Fathom asked, pausing before he poured the bucket into his maw.
¡°Just a little,¡± Pryce said, holding up an almost-empty glass. ¡°Here, humans touch cups of alcohol when celebrating,¡± he wriggled the bottle invitingly.
¡°What?¡± Fathom asked blankly.
¡°It¡¯s called a toast, humans touch glasses like this,¡± Pryce said, demonstrating the action with one of the empty bottles.
¡°Why?¡± Fathom asked, taking a sip before hastily darting his tongue out to catch the liquid that dribbled down the side of the bucket ¨C the lack of soft lips made the act of drinking more difficult than Pryce would have expected; he would have to find something that served as a cup better.
¡°It¡¯s what humans do to celebrate, we tap glasses, say ¡®cheers¡¯, then drink,¡± Pryce said, leaving out the fact that this was supposed to be done before any liquid was consumed.
Fathom looked hesitant at Pryce¡¯s extended glass, but he played along, gently clinking the metal bucket against the glass bottle.
¡°Cheers?¡± they both said, the dragon¡¯s voice easily overpowering Pryce¡¯s own. The human tilted the bottle completely upside down and drank the last mouthful of alcohol inside of it, while Fathom took another restrained sip and looked a bit frustrated at the bucket that refused to pour properly.
¡°You¡¯re supposed to use the lip of the bucket to pour it,¡± Pryce advised.
¡°I know that,¡± Fathom grumbled irritably, ¡°but I can¡¯t see when the liquid meets the lip of the bucket when I¡¯m drinking from it.¡± The dragon tried sticking his muzzle into the bucket instead, but it was just a bit too small.
¡°Maybe I¡¯ll find a better container next time, or maybe I¡¯ll just leave it in the bottle,¡± Pryce said apologetically as Fathom fell back to using his initial method of drinking.
¡°Yes, bottles are a little better, even if they are too small,¡± Fathom said, the alcoholic beverage soothing over his irritation quite effectively. He tilted his head as Pryce started on his own meal of canned fish and cooked rice. ¡°You are not going to drink more?¡±
¡°No,¡± Pryce said, his voice muffled by a mouthful of food.
¡°Why?¡±
¡°I don¡¯t like it very much,¡± Pryce shrugged. ¡°When alcohol makes you feel different, that¡¯s called being drunk, and I don¡¯t like that.¡±
¡°Why?¡± Fathom asked, echoing himself. ¡°Humans make alcohol, so humans must like alcohol, so they must like being drunk, right?¡±
¡°Yeah, a lot of people do, but I don¡¯t,¡± Pryce shrugged. ¡°Alcohol is a weak poison, but it¡¯s still a poison.¡±
¡°Alcohol isn¡¯t a poison,¡± Fathom objected reflexively, then looked down at his drink. ¡°...is it?¡±
¡°Alcohol makes you feel good because it is doing damage to your body, but it is not much damage, and your body can heal quickly,¡± Pryce explained. Fathom didn¡¯t seem convinced, so he asked, ¡°Do dragons ever move food from the stomach back up through your mouth?¡±
¡°Yes, but only if we are very sick, or need to fly after eating too much,¡± Fathom said, confirming his suspicions.
¡°Okay, that¡¯s called vomiting. Humans vomit if we drink too much alcohol, and dragons don¡¯t do that because dragons can¡¯t make enough alcohol to poison a dragon.¡±
¡°And there is not enough here to poison me?¡± Fathom asked a little warily.
¡°No, you should be fine,¡± Pryce reassured, and Fathom happily returned to sipping his bucket.
¡°I don¡¯t understand why you don¡¯t like to drink; I like it very much,¡± he said, looking quite pleased.
Pryce shrugged, his mouth full of food. ¡°By the way, I wanted to ask; what do dragons do to celebrate?¡±
Fathom savored another sip before casually listing, ¡°We fight, compete, make good sounds, and-¡±
¡°You sing songs?¡± Pryce asked, remembering he had forgotten to ask about that.
¡°I don¡¯t know what sing or song is,¡± Fathom said drily, in a remarkable imitation of Pryce¡¯s tone, though not his voice.
¡°That¡¯s¡uh¡¡± Pryce mumbled, realizing if he explained it Fathom would ask for a demonstration. ¡°Songs are when you make noises that sound good, and when you make a song it¡¯s called singing a song,¡± he sighed in defeat.
¡°Humans can sing?¡± Fathom asked, somewhat surprised. ¡°Can you sing?¡±
¡°Well, humans have to practice to sing well, and I do not practice, so I can''t do that,¡± Pryce said as he surreptitiously avoided eye contact.
¡°But you can sing,¡± Fathom said, far too perceptive for Pryce¡¯s current preference.
¡°I only know a few songs¡¡± Pryce said weakly.
¡°That means you can sing, right?¡±
¡°I don¡¯t want to, it¡¯s embarrassing,¡± Pryce protested.
¡°Why?¡± Fathom asked, cocking his head in confusion.
¡°Because I¡¯m not good at it!¡±
¡°...that makes sense,¡± Fathom said, humming in thought. ¡°If it is very embarrassing then I will not ask you to do it,¡± Fathom said, clearly attempting to be gracious though he was obviously disappointed.
¡°Wait, I can¡¯t sing, but I can show you human music,¡± Pryce said, which made Fathom perk up. ¡°Music is like singing, but made by tools called instruments.¡±
¡°Yes, show me music,¡± Fathom said, bobbing his head eagerly.
Pryce quickly finished the rest of his meal before stepping aboard The Horizon. He¡¯d never used it himself, but he knew there was a phonograph somewhere on the ship.
Chapter 39, Day 75, Part 2: Musical Scales
The phonograph sat in the rec room, bolted firmly to a table. The table itself was of course secured to the floor of the ship, so it took several minutes for Pryce to find the tools to loosen the bolts and another few minutes to carefully carry the delicate machine out onto the beach.
¡°What is this? And how does it work? It looks a little like a seashell,¡± Fathom said, peering at the phonograph as Pryce set it down. He had finished his drink, judging by the pristine state of the bucket.
With what he had taught Fathom about the nature of sound, Pryce was able to explain ¨C albeit with some difficulty ¨C how humans could make things called ¡®vinyl records¡¯ that had sounds ¡®written¡¯ onto them, and that this ¡®phonograph¡¯ could ¡®read¡¯ the sounds on the vinyl records by moving a needle over the engraved grooves.
¡°That doesn¡¯t¡sound like it would work?¡± Fathom said uncertainly, squinting at the apparently uniform disc. He sounded somewhat skeptical, but he knew better than to doubt the claims Pryce made, no matter how ridiculous they initially seemed.
¡°It¡¯s a little more complicated than that; it uses quartz to turn vibrations into electricity, then that electricity makes sounds,¡± Pryce explained, which was still something of a simplification, of course, but that was the core principle with which the device operated on.
¡°Can you record anything? Like my voice?¡± Fathom asked, peering at the device in great interest.
¡°Oh, no, it¡¯s very difficult to make vinyl recordings, and it takes a lot of special machines,¡± Pryce said, rubbing his neck sheepishly. ¡°But I do have another device called a tape recorder, and that can record your voice,¡± he said, seeing Fathom¡¯s head droop in disappointment.
¡°Yes, show me the tape recorder,¡± Fathom urged, shifting excitedly from one foreclaw to another.
¡°Didn¡¯t you want to hear music?¡± Pryce asked, gesturing to the phonograph he had dragged out.
Fathom looked torn for a moment, like a child offered two things they both wanted. ¡°Tape recorder first,¡± he said, after a moment¡¯s indecision.
¡°Alright,¡± Pryce shrugged, and disappeared into the ship to lug out the briefcase-sized tape recorder. The device wasn¡¯t mission critical, but people were of course curious to hear what animals from another land sounded like, and it took up very little room, so there wasn¡¯t any reason to not bring it. It did require battery power, but zinc-carbon batteries could last 18 months, and the radio only required power to amplify the signal, which required relatively little power, so Pryce was comfortable with using a little battery power to show Fathom something interesting.
¡°Alright, when I press this button, the tape recorder will start recording,¡± Pryce said once he had set up the device. ¡°Ready?¡±
Fathom nodded, and Pryce pressed the button.
A few seconds passed, with the dragon looking suddenly indecisive as Pryce gestured for him to say something.
¡°Is¡this recording? Why is it spinning?¡± He asked, and Pryce hit pause.
¡°Is¡this recording? Why is it spinning?¡± The tape recorder played back, causing Fathom to reel back his head in surprise. The tape recorder had introduced a minor amount of noise into the playback, but voices were still easily recognizable.
¡°That¡¯s not what I sound like¡is it?¡± Fathom asked, sounding somewhat indignant.
¡°Well, your voice does sound different to you than to anyone else, but the tape recorder isn¡¯t perfect, so it doesn¡¯t copy sound perfectly,¡± Pryce explained. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, most people don¡¯t like the sound of their own voices,¡± he chuckled, though this did little to alleviate Fathom¡¯s displeasure.
They played around with some more recordings, and Fathom became less annoyed with how his voice was depicted and became more interested with the device itself. Pryce tried to explain how the tape recorder magnetized strips of metal inside the tape, though Fathom was understandably unable to grasp that concept.
¡°The tape recorder uses a thing called a magnet to record sound, but I¡¯ll explain magnets to you later, I don¡¯t think I have any strong magnets to show you,¡± Pryce said, frowning as he tried to recall if there were any aboard the ship. ¡°They¡¯re pretty complicated, but basically it¡¯s a metal that attracts other metals. For example, iron sticks to magnets.¡±
¡°Metals that make other metals fly towards it¡¡± Fathom echoed. ¡°Wait, that¡¯s a very rare treasure only a few dragons have!¡± he exclaimed.
¡°Yeah, those would be natural magnets, we can make stronger ones,¡± Pryce nodded.
¡°¡of course you can make magnets,¡± Fathom muttered with a sigh.
¡°Let me guess; dragons think magnets have strong energy?¡±
¡°Yes, that is true, though I am guessing that is wrong.¡±
Pryce wriggled his hand. ¡°Kind of. The nature of a magnet is pretty complicated, I think it will be better if I explain it later. The important thing is that it attracts metals.¡±
Fathom sighed, but accepted this deferral. Instead, he asked, ¡°do you know why it feels a little strange if a magnet is held near your head? That is something that dragons have wanted to know for a long time.¡±
¡°What?¡± Pryce blinked. ¡°What do you mean ¡®feels strange¡¯?¡±
¡°It feels a little like you don¡¯t know where you are, but I¡¯m not sure how to describe it,¡± Fathom said, tilting his head in consternation. ¡°Does this not happen to humans?¡±
¡°No, the only thing a magnet does is-¡± Pryce abruptly paused as realization struck him. ¡°Can dragons sense which direction is north? Even without knowing where they are?¡± He asked urgently.
¡°Of course, that is easy,¡± Fathom replied. ¡°Can humans not do that?¡± He asked, with a questioning squint.
¡°No, we can¡¯t,¡± Pryce said excitedly, ¡°Dragons have magnetoreception! You can sense magnets!¡±
¡°I¡don¡¯t understand, what does this have to do with knowing which direction is where?¡± Fathom asked, bemused by Pryce¡¯s enthusiasm.
¡°Earth is one big magnet, it¡¯s too weak to attract metals, but it is a magnet, let me go grab something,¡± Pryce said as he rushed off mid-conversation. Fathom¡¯s spines flattened impatiently as Pryce returned a minute later, holding a round thing that looked a little like a smaller chronometer.
¡°This is a compass,¡± Pryce said. ¡°It has a magnet inside of it; it¡¯s not very strong, but because Earth is a magnet it will always pull this smaller magnet to the north and south, see?¡± Pryce said, spinning the compass around while the needle remained in the same direction.
¡°That is strange, are you saying any magnet can do this?¡± Fathom asked. ¡°Interesting, how did humans notice this?¡± he asked when Pryce had given his affirmative.
¡°I heard it was when someone put a magnet on a small piece of wood that was floating on water, but I¡¯m not sure how true that story is,¡± Pryce shrugged.
¡°Humans do weird things,¡± Fathom noted inoffensively. ¡°Can you show me what phonograph does now? I want to listen to human music.¡±
¡°First of all, music is any sound that sounds good, while singing is a type of music that someone can make with their throat and mouth,¡± Pryce explained. ¡°I have records for both music and songs, which do you want to hear first?¡±
¡°Songs,¡± Fathom said, without much hesitation. ¡°I want to hear what music humans make with your throats.¡±
¡°Alright, a song it is,¡± Pryce said, selecting a record containing a particularly famous one. ¡°You should know that human songs almost always have music to go with the singing,¡± he explained as he wound up the machine. Fathom looked like he wanted to ask more questions, but he held his tongue while Pryce worked.
A minute later Pryce set the needle onto the disc and pressed play.
The song began with a wordless feminine vocalization, lone and sorrowful. Fathom leaned in closer to listen to the melody with rapt attention, his ear-spines stretched tight to better hear the alien sounds. The voice remained solitary until it was joined by a harp and a violin, though these instruments never overpowered the singer, and only served to emphasize the melody. Once the singer was even silent for half a minute while the slow and solemn notes plucked from the harp filled the silence. Back and forth the singer and the instruments went, until the song ended in the same six notes with which it began.
The phonograph fell silent as it ran out of track to play, the needle scrabbling against the empty record.
¡°That was¡very beautiful,¡± Fathom said slowly, mulling over each word as he formulated his opinion of the piece, ¡°but¡I am not sure if it is happy or sad. I have never heard of anything like it.¡±
¡°Happy? Most people would say it¡¯s just sad,¡± Pryce said, confused but interested to hear the dragon¡¯s interpretation.
¡°It sounds alone, like a young dragon gaining ¡®freedom¡¯, but it also sounds sad, like they are sad to leave their old home,¡± he explained. He tilted his head quizzically to ask, ¡°Is this song supposed to be sad and not happy?¡±
¡°Yeah, it¡¯s a sad song, but it¡¯s one of my favorites. It¡¯s pretty old, maybe a hundred years or so, but it was recorded only a few years ago,¡± Pryce said, glad to hear some familiar music from less stressful times of his life.
¡°Are there any words in that song?¡± Fathom asked. ¡°I did not recognize any.¡±
¡°No, those are just nice sounds made by a female human,¡± Pryce said.
¡°It was much higher than your voice, are human female voices higher than human males?¡±
¡°Almost always, yes.¡±
¡°Strange. Dragon female voices are a little deeper than dragon male voices,¡± Fathom noted.
¡°That makes sense,¡± Pryce nodded, ¡°they are bigger, and bigger things usually have deeper voices.¡±
¡°Can I listen to other human music? Do you have something happier?¡± Fathom asked, which Pryce responded to by selecting another record.
A soft, melancholy ocarina began to play, which made Fathom tilt his head a little. Soon string instruments joined in, then brass, followed by other instruments that Pryce wasn¡¯t confident in identifying. The brass instruments gradually carried the song¡¯s transition into a triumphant cacophony before ending on that lone haunting melody.
Fathom bobbed his head to the melody of the music, which was interesting to see. Humans were the only known creature to bob their heads to music, was it an indication of intelligence, or just coincidence? He realized that if dragons liked music, then bobbing their heads was a good thing, which might explain why they also nodded to show approval just like humans do.
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Pryce lifted the needle off of the record, then turned to face Fathom, curious to see what the dragon would think.
¡°I like this song, it is very beautiful, and it does sound happy, even if the beginning and the end are a little sad,¡± he said after a moment¡¯s thought.
¡°I¡¯m glad you liked it,¡± Pryce said, smiling.
¡°Most dragon songs are happy, do humans write many sad songs?¡± Fathom asked interestedly.
¡°Songs can be anything,¡± Pryce shrugged. ¡°Songs can be happy, or sad, or powerful. People who write songs put their emotions into it. It is interesting that dragons would see ¨C or hear it differently,¡± he said, amending his choice of words.
Fathom hummed in thought, then asked, ¡°Instruments make these sounds?¡±
¡°Yes, instruments make these sounds. The ship has instruments, but they need a lot of practice to use, and it has been many years since I used an instrument.¡±
¡°Is it embarrassing if you use an instrument?¡± Fathom asked hopefully.
¡°It¡¯s not really embarrassing, but¡¡± Pryce was about to say that the instruments were not his, but he knew his crewmates well, and he was sure they would not have minded it if their instruments were used to play music for a dragon. ¡°Nevermind, I will show you how they work,¡± Pryce said, much to Fathom¡¯s delight. ¡°I¡¯m not good at playing them, so they won¡¯t sound good like the music made by the phonograph,¡± he warned, which did not seem to dampen the dragon¡¯s anticipation in the slightest.
He took some time searching through his departed comrade¡¯s belongings, and found a flute, an ocarina, a trumpet, and a violin. He had only ever played a bit of the flute when he was young, but he took them all out anyway. Even without practice he could play a few notes, and that would have to be enough.
Pryce started with the instruments he was most unfamiliar with, and chose the trumpet at random. ¡°This one is a trumpet, I¡¯ve never used one before, but these things here are called ¡®keys¡¯, and pressing on them changes the sound,¡± Pryce explained, then looked up to see Fathom¡¯s face so close that the trumpet¡¯s golden brass was visibly reflected in dragons wide eyes. ¡°Oh, right, this is pretty, isn¡¯t it?¡±
¡°Why didn¡¯t you show me this before?¡± Fathom asked, a little petulantly but mostly in awe at the smooth and shining pipes that made up the instrument. ¡°This is almost like gold,¡± he breathed in covetous tones.
¡°Yeah, this isn¡¯t gold ¨C wait how can you tell?¡± Pryce asked, staring at the instrument. It was obvious that it wasn¡¯t gold, of course, but if he hadn¡¯t known that then it would have been very difficult to tell what metal the trumpet was made of at a glance.
¡°It looks different, it reflects less UV than gold,¡± Fathom said thoughtfully. ¡°This looks like gold to you?¡±
¡°Yes, they look almost the same to humans,¡± Pryce confirmed.
¡°Interesting,¡± Fathom nodded. ¡°If this is not gold, then what metal is this?¡± He asked as he continued to stare at the beautiful instrument.
¡°This metal is called brass, it¡¯s made of two other metals called copper and zinc,¡± Pryce explained.
¡°Are copper and zinc made of other metals?¡± Fathom asked, tilting his head thoughtfully.
¡°No, copper is only copper, and zinc is only zinc. Gold is like that too, things that are only made up of themselves are called ¡®elements¡¯.¡±
¡°There must be many elements in the world?¡± Fathom said absently, still staring appreciatively at the trumpet.
¡°Humans have found 90 elements, but there are some more. Everything you see,¡± Pryce waved broadly, ¡°is made up of elements.¡±
¡°Everything is only 90 elements?¡± Fathom said, tearing his gaze away from the trumpet in shock.
¡°I can teach you more now, or I can play the trumpet ¨C that means to make the trumpet make noise,¡± Pryce amended.
¡°...play instruments, teach later, maybe tomorrow,¡± Fathom said after a moment¡¯s thought.
¡°Alright,¡± Pryce said, picking up the trumpet and disinfecting the mouthpiece. He played a few sloppy notes which made Fathom flatten his spines in displeasure. ¡°I told you instruments need practice to use,¡± Pryce shrugged. ¡°But you can hear that one of the instruments in the song was a trumpet, right?¡±
¡°Yes, in the middle of the second song,¡± Fathom said, looking disappointed.
¡°These instruments are called ocarina, violin, and flute,¡± Pryce said, moving on to the other instruments. The ocarina was easier to play clear notes on, though he didn¡¯t know which holes to cover in order to play specific notes. Fathom was better pleased by the pleasant airy notes made by the ocarina, and easily identified it as the instrument used in the beginning and end of the song.
¡°This one is called a violin, I don¡¯t know how to play it either,¡± Pryce warned as he picked up the violin. He didn¡¯t even know how to tune the instrument, though he knew to rub the bow hair with resin. Fathom seemed to like this one a little more than the trumpet, and at least he was able to identify it as one of the two instruments used in the first song, despite the fact that Pryce was unable to string together anything coherent.
¡°This is a flute, and my mother taught me how to play it a long time ago,¡± Pryce said, tracing his fingers over the wooden instrument reminiscently. It was only a little similar to the one he had used, and it had been decades since he¡¯d last held a flute.
He brought the instrument to his lips and struggled to play an old lullaby buried somewhere deep within his memories. Pryce had his eyes closed, and so he did not see how the shrill reedy notes made Fathom flatten his spines in displeasure. Despite this rocky start his decades-old muscle memory slowly began to return, at least enough for him to play a stumbling-yet-pleasant melody.
¡°That was much better at the end,¡± Fathom said when he had finished the short song. ¡°This song is different from the song the phonograph played, it sounds¡calm. I like it.¡±
¡°Yes, I learned it a long time ago, so I only remember how to play a little. I can try playing the second song, if you want.¡±
¡°Yes, play,¡± Fathom nodded eagerly.
Pryce closed his eyes, then played the notes one at a time at a slower rate than was intended, but he gradually sped up to an acceptable tempo. The notes were meant to be played by an ocarina, but the flute was similar enough to act as a substitute, though that did not keep him from making mistakes as he stumbled from note to note.
Fathom rumbled approvingly, despite this very flawed performance; he seemed to have taken a liking to the noises made by the instrument. ¡°It is different, but I can hear where the music is the same.¡± Fathom hummed thoughtfully. ¡°In the future, I want to see and hear humans who are good at using instruments play songs.¡± He paused, then asked sheepishly, ¡°Is that an insult?¡±
¡°No, it¡¯s true that I¡¯m not good at playing the flute,¡± Pryce chuckled. ¡°Humans playing different instruments together is called an orchestra, and yeah, I hope you can hear one someday,¡± Pryce said, smiling at the thought. It would take a lot of work to get Fathom back to The Mainland, or to transport all the instruments across the ocean, but it was a pleasant thing to imagine nonetheless.
Fathom said.
¡°Dragons singing? Do you sing with other dragons?¡± Pryce asked, surprised.
¡°Yes, at celebrations, or with family,¡± Fathom said, with what sounded like a hint of nostalgia in his tone.
¡°I would like to listen to you sing, if you want to,¡± Pryce said hopefully.
¡°Okay,¡± Fathom nodded, then took a deep preparatory breath.
What came out was nothing like Pryce had ever heard; it started as a deep, throaty noise, then slowly ascended in both pitch and volume. The dragon¡¯s massive lung capacity allowed him to go on without breath for far longer than any human could, and he did not stop for the entire duration of the song. The tune was strange and erratic, sometimes the pitch changed steadily, but other times he would transition into an undulating cry. Halfway through the song Pryce noticed that the pitch of the song jumped from high to low, but never the reverse.
He couldn¡¯t put his finger on what was so strange about this piece of music, but it didn¡¯t seem to feature notes in the traditional human sense, as he was fairly certain many notes were ¡®off-key¡¯, and of course the undulating cries could not be reproduced by any human.
The song was much like a paradox, chaotic then orderly, vigorous then placid, and sometimes both at once ¨C yet it wasn¡¯t unpleasant to his ears. There was a sort of primal energy, a raw emotion conveyed in the song that was impossible for anyone to find dull.
Fathom finished the song with one last haunting cry, and lowered his head to look at Pryce expectantly.
¡°Thank you, I liked the song; it was very interesting and very different from human songs,¡± Pryce said, hoping it wouldn¡¯t be offensive ¨C the song really was very interesting.
Fortunately Fathom seemed pleased by the answer, and settled back down with a contented air.
¡°Was that song¡about flying?¡± Pryce guessed. There weren¡¯t any words in the song, at least none that he could tell, but that was the impression he got from it.
¡°Yes!¡± Fathom said happily, looking quite pleased. ¡°How did you know?¡±
¡°The pitch of the song went from low to high slowly, like a dragon flying up, but it went from high to low quickly, like a dragon diving, am I right?¡±
¡°Yes, that is right. This song is about what emotions we feel when flying, but I did change it a little; it is normally much louder,¡± he added candidly.
¡°Yes, thank you for not roaring at my face,¡± Pryce said, only a little sarcastically.
¡°You¡still don¡¯t want to sing?¡± Fathom asked expectantly.
¡°No, not really,¡± Pryce grumbled. ¡°But you did sing for me, so I guess it¡¯s fair that I try singing for you. It¡¯s not going to sound pretty,¡± he warned, seeing Fathom perk up in anticipation.
¡°That¡¯s okay, I want to hear it,¡± Fathom said brightly.
Pryce could only say that he knew two songs; the alphabet song, and¡the amino acid song. As embarrassing as that was, he sure as hell wasn¡¯t going to sing the alphabet song to a dragon¡so the latter it was.
Glycine, valine, leucine, isoleucine, alanine, they all are aliphatic, so you will not see a ring!
The lone human amino acid with one is proline, from protein we are formed!
With two hydroxyl groups you''ll find serine and threonine, for sulfur, look to cysteine or to methionine!
For bases, you have arginine, lysine, and histidine, from protein we are formed! (Now the aromatics!)
Tryptophan and tyrosine and phenylalanine!
Aspartic and glutamic are both acids as we''ve seen,
For amides, see asparagine and also glutamine, from protein we are formed!~
¡°...I do not know many of these words,¡± Fathom said, sounding a little disgruntled.
¡°Sorry, this is the only song I know. It¡¯s used to help people remember the names of complicated things that I can¡¯t really teach you about right now,¡± Pryce said apologetically.
¡°Humans use songs to help remember words?¡± Fathom asked interestedly.
¡°Yeah, I guess dragons wouldn¡¯t need to use songs to remember things.¡±
¡°No, we do not. I have never thought of¡songs having a ¡®use¡¯ before,¡± Fathom said thoughtfully.
¡°So¡did you like the song?¡± Pryce prompted when Fathom remained silent on the song itself.
¡°Oh¡It was¡interesting, very different from dragon songs,¡± Fathom said awkwardly in an uncannily similar cadence to one politely lying through omission.
¡°Oh,¡± Pryce said, a little wounded despite himself. ¡°...I can play the rest of the songs on these records, if you want.¡±
¡°Yes please,¡± Fathom said, bobbing his head eagerly as he sat down.
Pryce moved to set up the phonograph, but paused as he remembered something. ¡°Oh right! I think I know why dragons and humans both nod when they mean ¡®yes¡¯,¡± Pryce said enthusiastically. ¡°It¡¯s because of music. Humans and dragons both like music, and we both nod our heads when listening to music, so nodding means a good thing.¡±
¡°That¡makes sense,¡± Fathom nodded unconsciously, then abruptly stopped as he realized what he was doing. ¡°It is very interesting. I have never thought about it before, but I have not seen any other animals that like music,¡± Fathom noted. ¡°Is it a coincidence? Or is there a reason?¡±
¡°Yeah, I have a theory,¡± Pryce mused as he turned to wind up the phonograph. ¡°I think the reason is that something has to have intelligence to like music.¡±
¡°Makes sense,¡± Fathom hummed affably as Pryce selected another record. In an odd way, listening along with Fathom felt like a novel experience, despite the fact that these songs were not new to him.
He also felt an odd sense of pride whenever Fathom expressed fondness for a particular piece, though he had never composed a song in his life. As the day wore on, he began to realize that he was feeling pride as a human being.
It was not exactly a foreign emotion ¨C Pryce had always loved science with a passion, but he had never quite felt it so viscerally before, and he suspected it was impossible to feel such an emotion in any other circumstance, without a member of another sapient species to act as a mirror.
He had considered teaching Fathom a bit of chemistry today, but Pryce smiled as the tip of Fathom¡¯s tail began to lash in time with the bobbing of his head, and he decided that it wouldn¡¯t hurt if the two of them spent the rest of the day listening to music.
[JOURNAL ENTRY]
Day 75,
Fathom was able to fly with great success today; to say he was exultant would be an understatement.
We plan to go meet Celeste on Day 80, and Fathom says she is not very far ¨C about three or four hours of flying away, though he has not visited her before. I¡¯ve already packed ten days worth of food, though in practice Fathom can help hunt for me.
It is¡easy to dismiss the people I¡¯ve helped as a statistic, but seeing the joy I¡¯ve brought Fathom makes that concept feel a little less esoteric.
I introduced him to music today, and he enjoyed everything greatly. He also sang a song about flying to me, though it used no words in any language. It was very bizarre, but not at all unpleasant. I do not think any written description could do the experience justice, at least not any written by me.
Tomorrow I will teach Fathom about chemistry, as he has shown interest on that topic ¨C especially with regard to metals.
Chapter 40, Day 76: Shells within Shells
That morning Fathom went hunting and returned half an hour later with one of the deer-like creatures in a foreclaw. He was panting from his flight, but that didn¡¯t stop him from gathering stray branches and logs to start a fire. Once the flame was lit he waited for it to die down by dressing the carcass. He had already eaten one raw, judging by the gore around his chops, so perhaps he was preparing food for later.
Pryce watched as he slurped up the insides with faintly queasy wonder, and offered to help rub salt into the cavity of the ¡®deer¡¯ ¨C he still wasn¡¯t sure what to name it ¨C and then Fathom wrapped the carcass in great leaves as he had done with the pig Pryce had given him.
¡°Human hands are very useful,¡± Fathom noted thankfully.
¡°Yeah, but now human hands are dirty, I¡¯m going to go wash them,¡± Pryce said, and headed off to the spring to wash his hands, though he was quickly overtaken by Fathom¡¯s sedate pace despite his head start.
Once they had both washed themselves off the fire had died down, and Fathom buried the leaf-wrapped deer in a pit of embers before covering it with a stone slab that weighed more than Pryce.
¡°The food will take time to cook, is there anything you wanted to talk about?¡± Fathom asked expectantly.
¡°I can teach you about the elements while we wait for the meat to cook,¡± Pryce offered.
¡°Yes, I remember all of the elements now, why?¡±
¡°I¡¯m envious, your memory really is amazing,¡± Pryce grumbled. He had only read Fathom the periodic table once. ¡°Almost no humans have the periodic table memorized.¡±
¡°This is normal for dragons,¡± Fathom shrugged. ¡°You do not remember this table?¡±
¡°I know a lot of it, but not all of it,¡± Pryce admitted as he dismissed the thought of testing Fathom; at this point he had no doubts when it came to the dragon¡¯s memory.
Why is this table shaped like this?¡± Fathom asked curiously, squinting at the small piece of paper.
¡°That¡¯s a good question, and a complicated one,¡± Pryce said. ¡°Yesterday I said everything is made of elements, and elements are things that are not made of smaller pieces of itself. This is true, but the smallest possible piece of every element ¨C no matter what it is ¨C is called an atom, and atoms are made of three particles called electrons, protons, and neutrons.¡±
¡°Only three things?¡± Fathom asked, squinting his eyes in thought. ¡°Everything is made of 90 elements, but all 90 elements are made of the same three things?¡±
¡°Yes, it sounds like it¡¯s very simple, but it¡¯s actually very complicated,¡± Pryce said. ¡°The only thing that makes one element different from another is the number of these three particles. For example, gold has 79 electrons, 79 protons, and 118 neutrons, and iron has 26 electrons, 26 protons, and 30 neutrons.¡±
¡°That is¡very strange,¡± Fathom rumbled. ¡°You did not name water when you read the periodic table, is water not an element?¡±
¡°No, humans used to think water was an element too, but it¡¯s actually made of two hydrogens and one oxygen.¡±
¡°Water is a liquid, how can it be made of oxygen and hydrogen, which are gasses?¡± Fathom asked incredulously. ¡°You said fires need oxygen and fuel like hydrogen to burn, how can water be made of two things that can burn? Water kills fires.¡±
¡°Great question!¡± Pryce said, smiling as he pointed a finger at Fathom. ¡°It is strange, but molecules are atoms that are combined, and water is a molecule of two hydrogens and one oxygen. This is different from hydrogen and oxygen gas, because those aren¡¯t combined,¡± he explained, very glad for Fathom¡¯s increased vocabulary. ¡°You can think of oxygen and hydrogen as having a lot of energy when separated, and when they combine they lose that energy ¨C the energy that they lose is fire,¡± Pryce summarized.
Fathom mulled this over for a few moments, then slowly asked, ¡°If separated hydrogen and oxygen is like a dragon, water is like a dragon that has used all of their fire?¡±
¡°Yeah, you can think of it like that,¡± Pryce nodded. ¡°A better analogy would be thinking of hydrogen and oxygen as wood, and water would be ash.¡±
¡°I think that makes sense¡¡± Fathom said, head tilted at a slight angle. ¡°But why does water kill fire?¡± He asked, narrowing his eyes in thought.
Pryce took a few seconds to compose his reply. Most people ¨C even some scientists ¨C wrongly assumed that water killed fires by starving the fire of oxygen, when in truth¡
¡°Dragon fires are started by that spark you can make, which is very hot,¡± Pryce said, starting with something familiar. ¡°Once the fire starts, the heat from that fire makes more fire, until there¡¯s no more fuel. Basically, water kills fire because it takes away the heat. No heat, no fire,¡± Pryce summarized.
¡°I think this makes sense¡?¡± Fathom said uncertainly. ¡°Dragons think fire is fire, it is strange to learn that fire is like water.¡± He blinked and jerked his head back slightly, then asked urgently, ¡°If fire is molecules losing heat, then can you use heat to make hydrogen and oxygen from water?¡±
¡°Uh, yes,¡± Pryce said, surprised yet again by how quickly Fathom could grasp a concept. ¡°It takes a lot of heat, but that is possible. An easier way to do that is to use electricity on water, this is called electrolysis, and this is how humans make hydrogen.¡±
Fathom rumbled happily at having guessed correctly, his tail flicking contentedly. ¡°What about nitrogen? You said 86% of the air is nitrogen, does nitrogen make anything?¡±
¡°Yes, nitrogen makes lots of things, but they are not things that you know about, it is easier to explain other things first,¡± Pryce said, gesturing to the periodic table again. ¡°Every atom has something called a nucleus at the center, which is made of protons and neutrons. The nucleus is like the seed of a fruit, and it is much smaller than the atom but all of the protons and neutrons are here,¡± Pryce said, referring to a diagram in a textbook.
¡°Protons and neutrons are red and green? Are the blue circles electrons?¡± Fathom asked.
¡°Well, no, atoms don¡¯t look exactly like this, this is just a drawing that shows what they¡¯re like. The color is not real, the drawing uses different colors to show you which one is which.¡±
¡°But why does this drawing not use their real colors?¡±
¡°Because these particles are too small to have color.¡±
¡°Too small to have color?¡± Fathom asked, baffled. ¡°But everything is made of atoms, and things have color, so why can you not see atoms?¡±
¡°Um¡¡± Pryce scratched his head, not feeling qualified to teach quantum physics. ¡°This gets very complicated, I just want to teach you the basics today. The important thing is that neutrons, protons, and electrons are too small to be seen with light, but atoms together are big enough to be seen with light.¡±
¡°Okay,¡± Fathom sighed. ¡°Explain other things.¡±
¡°Alright, so I¡¯ll explain what electricity is; the blue circles in the diagram are electrons, but electrons are not strongly attached to atoms, they can move to other atoms. This is what a spark is, electrons gain energy and ¡®jump¡¯ from one thing to another.¡±
¡°Lightning and spark are the same thing, right?¡± Fathom asked, punctuating his question with a snap.
¡°Yes, both electric sparks and lightning are the same thing, it¡¯s just that one is very small and one is very big,¡± Pryce confirmed. ¡°Now, electrons like to be in groups, we call these shells. The ones on the outside can most easily move around, and each shell can hold a different amount of electrons.¡±
¡°How many can each shell hold?¡± Fathom asked.
¡°That¡can get complicated, and you don¡¯t need to know that right now,¡± Pryce sighed. He didn¡¯t like withholding information, but if he didn¡¯t they¡¯d be here all day.
¡°You already said that earlier,¡± Fathom huffed in irritation. ¡°Just tell me how many are in each shell, and I won¡¯t ask why...even if I want to,¡± he promised reluctantly.
¡°Alright, the first shell can only have 2 electrons, the second shell can have 8, third can have 18, then 32, and 50.¡±
¡°That wasn¡¯t very complicated,¡± Fathom snorted.
¡°I was worried you would ask why,¡± Pryce shrugged. ¡°Anyway, I¡¯m explaining this because atoms with full shells ¨C which are called noble gasses ¨C go into the last column here. Most atoms and molecules can combine or break apart, but noble gasses are very stable, which means they don¡¯t break apart and they usually don¡¯t combine with anything else. Noble gasses are like dragons who are very full of food and just want to go to sleep.¡±
¡°That makes sense, but can you explain why full shells are stable?¡± Fathom asked, half-expectantly.
¡°I can try,¡± Pryce said, picking up a few pebbles. ¡°Imagine this is an electron shell,¡± he said, placing a grid of nine pebbles in a square, then four in the second level, topped by a single pebble in the middle ¨C a simple pyramid. ¡°The numbers are wrong here, but imagine the pebbles touching the ground are the ones in the first shell, and these four pebbles are in the second shell, and this last pebble is in the third shell. All of the shells are full, so there¡¯s nowhere for me to put any more pebbles, so it is hard to make any new shapes that are stable,¡± Pryce explained, hoping the primitive model wasn¡¯t confusing.
Fathom rumbled thoughtfully, and seemed to spend an uncharacteristically long time thinking.
¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± Pryce asked. The dragon seemed to be thinking very hard.
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¡°You said a full shell is like a dragon who is very full, but a dragon who is almost very full does not have much energy, but you also said full shells are like a rock that is on the edge of a cliff, and that rock has almost all of its energy. These seem to be¡opposites,¡± Fathom noted, tilting his head quizzically.
¡°Yes, these analogies are flawed, they are supposed to help you understand things, but they are not 100% correct,¡± Pryce said. ¡°The more accurate one is the rock analogy, if an atom has one extra electron, it will ¡®want¡¯ to get rid of it,¡± he demonstrated this by dropping a pebble onto the top of the pyramid, where it predictably tumbled off. Then he removed the topmost pebble, and said, ¡°If it has one less electron, it is easy for the element to take one,¡± he placed the pebble back at the top, completing the pyramid once again. ¡°Both have lots of energy.¡±
¡°I think I understand,¡± Fathom rumbled. ¡°Then that means electrons that have half-full shells are stable, and¡no, that doesn¡¯t make sense.¡±
¡°What doesn¡¯t make sense?¡± Fathom was staring intently at the periodic table, and Pryce was very curious to know what kind of guesses he would make.
¡°I was thinking that the first row has two elements, then the second has eight, like the number of electrons in the first and second shells, but the third row has eight elements, not eighteen¡I do not understand,¡± Fathom said, sounding a little frustrated.
¡°No, you¡¯re doing great!¡± Pryce said encouragingly.
¡°I am?¡± Fathom asked, sounding more surprised than skeptical.
¡°Yes, you are right about the first two rows, the third is strange; argon does not really have a full shell, but it is very stable, so the human who invented the periodic table put it there.¡±
¡°What do you mean ¡®does not really have a full shell¡¯? Is it full or not?¡± Fathom asked, sounding a little annoyed.
¡°It¡¯s complicated, but shells have their own shells, called subshells. I can teach you that much later, but it isn¡¯t important now,¡± Pryce waved dismissively. ¡°Basically argon has subshells filled, so they are stable.¡±
Fathom tossed his head in exasperation. ¡°How can shells have shells?¡±
¡°I don¡¯t have a good analogy for this, sorry,¡± Pryce shrugged.
¡°I feel like I can ask ¡®why¡¯ and we will never stop,¡± the dragon grumbled.
¡°Well, if it helps we would stop soon because I don¡¯t know that much more,¡± Pryce shrugged.
¡°So there are things humans do not know,¡± Fathom said, a note of humor in his voice. ¡°I am a little happy that there are things you do not know; I would be embarrassed if humans learned everything already.¡±
¡°Don¡¯t worry about that,¡± Pryce laughed, ¡°We won¡¯t learn everything there is to know for a very, very, long time.¡±
¡°You have not explained metals yet,¡± Fathom said pointedly when Pryce had not said anything for a few seconds.
¡°Right, sorry, I forgot¡I don¡¯t have much to show you about metals, actually. I can read you the descriptions of metals, but that¡¯s kind of boring.¡±
¡°That doesn¡¯t sound boring,¡± Fathom said, eyes shining with interest.
¡°Okay, we can do that later,¡± Pryce smiled. ¡°I can tell you interesting things about metals now, if you want.¡± Seeing Fathom bob his head, he continued, ¡°All the elements here,¡± he gestured from column 3 to 12, ¡°are metals, and some other ones are metals too. A lot of things have metals in them, but they do not look like metals, like blood.¡±
¡°Blood is not metal!¡±
Pryce chuckled at this vehement rejection. ¡°Yes, you¡¯re right, blood is not metal, but it has a little bit of metal in it ¨C iron, actually.¡±
¡°It can¡¯t be very much, blood is a liquid, and iron is not a liquid metal like mercury,¡± Fathom rumbled.
¡°Yes, it is a very, very small amount, but it¡¯s important. A lot of iron you find is red, right? That¡¯s because the iron combines with oxygen, the iron in the blood gives it the red color.¡±
¡°Iron makes blood red? That is very interesting, other dragons will like to know that their blood has iron,¡± Fathom said, chuckling lightly in his guttural way.
¡°They might like to know that bones have calcium, which is also a metal. You can¡¯t find calcium by itself though; it likes to react with things, because it only has two electrons in the outermost shell,¡± Pryce said, picking up glass filled with a clear liquid and some opaque chunks in it. ¡°This is sodium, and you can tell it only has one electron in the outermost shell because it¡¯s in the first column of the periodic table, which means it¡¯s very unstable.¡±
¡°Like hydrogen?¡± Fathom asked.
¡°Yes ¨C this will make hydrogen if I throw this into water, actually,¡± Pryce said. ¡°Move back, sodium will explode if it touches water, even if it¡¯s only a little bit of it,¡± he warned as he unsealed the cap to extract a thumb-sized lump of sodium metal with some glass stir-sticks, placing it onto a paper towel to wick away the oil.
¡°This doesn¡¯t look like metal,¡± Fathom said, pupils shifting as he inspected the unassuming lump.
¡°Watch,¡± Pryce said, taking a (dry) knife and cutting the lump in half, revealing the shiny interior that quickly faded to match the white exterior.[1]
Fathom blinked, then tilted his head. ¡°What? Why did it change?¡± He asked, reaching out to the lump.
¡°No! This explodes, remember?¡± Pryce admonished, pulling the lump away until Fathom retracted his outstretched talons and ducked his head somewhat ashamedly.
¡°It doesn¡¯t look like it can explode¡¡± He grumbled mulishly.
¡°Well it can, and I¡¯ll show you,¡± Pryce said, pulling on a single latex glove. ¡°Move away from the river,¡± he warned, and pointedly stood still until Fathom took a few steps back. He wound his arm back and threw the piece of sodium as far as he could, where it landed into the river.
¡°It¡¯s just making smoke, not exploding-¡±
An orange flame flared through the smoke, heralding a crack a full second before it shot through the air.
¡°...oh,¡± Fathom said as he watched the plume of water fall back down onto the river, his eyes tracking the small piece of sodium as it exploded from one spot on the river to the next until the reaction died out.
¡°Told you so.¡±
Fathom treated the metal with much more respect after that.
¡°I will put a little bit of sodium into this beaker here; it won¡¯t explode, but it will make hydrogen,¡± Pryce said as he held a half-centimeter wide lump of sodium over the water.
¡°Are you sure it won¡¯t explode?¡± Fathom asked a little warily as he watched from a few meters away.
¡°Yes, it won¡¯t explode,¡± Pryce reassured, and dropped the lump of metal. Just as he said, the bead of metal skittered along the surface of the water, shrinking as it did so until it disappeared a dozen seconds later.
¡°Can you smell any hydrogen?¡± Pryce asked.
¡°...yes, a little bit,¡± Fathom said as he leaned over and sniffed the air. ¡°But I smell something else too.¡±
¡°Yeah, sodium reacts with water to make sodium hydroxide, but that¡¯s not important for you to know right now.¡±
¡°...Is there sodium in your body?¡± Fathom asked.
¡°Yes, like calcium.¡±
¡°...and it does not explode because¡it is not pure sodium, like how water has hydrogen but does not burn?¡±
¡°Y-yeah, that¡¯s exactly it. It¡¯s amazing how fast you learn,¡± Pryce praised, causing Fathom to preen. ¡°We have calcium in our bones and sodium kinda everywhere, but it¡¯s always combined with other things so that it¡¯s stable.¡±
¡°Do dragons have calcium and sodium too?¡±
¡°Yeah, everything has calcium and sodium, at least every animal I know of.¡±
¡°I have some dragon bones, can you see if they have calcium?¡± Fathom asked curiously.
¡°I don¡¯t ¨C wait what? You have dragon bones?¡± Pryce asked, surprised.
¡°I told you before, bones make good tools,¡± Fathom chided. ¡°Your memory is very bad.¡±
¡°I remember that, I was just surprised, I didn¡¯t see any dragon bones around,¡± Pryce said defensively.
¡°Of course you didn¡¯t find them, I hid them like I hid my treasures,¡± Fathom said, as if this were obvious.
¡°Well, I can¡¯t really tell how much metal is in dragon bones with the tools I have with me,¡± Pryce said doubtfully. ¡°But if I did, I could just use your wing-bone instead of your tools.¡±
¡°My wing-bone?¡± Fathom asked blankly. ¡°Why would you use my healed bones?¡± He asked warily, flattening his wings against his back as he leaned backwards.
¡°No, no, I meant the piece of bone that I cut off when I did surgery on you,¡± Pryce amended.
¡°You cut off a piece of bone?!¡± Fathom hissed in alarm, glancing at his wing as if to make sure it was still intact.
¡°How else did you think I got rid of the round part?¡± Pryce asked incredulously.
¡°I don¡¯t know, I thought you used your¡science,¡± Fathom said, grumbling as he settled down a little.
¡°...Sorry, I thought you knew,¡± Pryce mumbled, to which Fathom only grumbled wordlessly.
After a few moments of awkward silence, he asked, ¡°...why do you still have my bone? That is a type of strange that makes me feel wrong,¡± Fathom said, a shudder running along his spine.
¡°That word is ¡®creepy¡¯, and you said that it¡¯s normal for dragons to use dragon bones, how is this any creepier than that?¡± Pryce asked incredulously.
¡°Dragons use dragon bones from dead dragons, not dragons that are still alive!¡± Fathom groused, stressing the last word.
¡°...yeah, I guess that makes sense,¡± Pryce admitted.
There was a moment of awkward silence, then Fathom asked, ¡°...where is my bone?¡±
Pryce rubbed his neck awkwardly. ¡°I¡have it in my bags.¡±
¡°...Can I see it?¡±
¡°This is a strange feeling, to see my own bone like this,¡± Fathom muttered as he inspected the small chunk of bone in Pryce¡¯s hands.
¡°Yeah,¡± Pryce said, hoping Fathom wouldn¡¯t ask about the saw-marks on the bone.
¡°How did you cut it off? Dragon bones are very strong.¡±
Pryce winced. ¡°I¡don¡¯t think you want to see the tool I used to do that,¡± he dissuaded. ¡°It was very hard to cut, so I¡¯m glad that your wing has healed so well.¡±
Fathom rumbled, looking a tad distressed, but also a little thoughtful. ¡°Can you heal other dragons who have wounds like mine?¡±
¡°No, not now,¡± Pryce said, shaking his head vehemently. ¡°I wasn¡¯t going to do surgery on your wing before it broke, because I might have made your wing worse. Humans have been doing surgery for a long time, and it helped a lot of people, but it almost killed more than it saved when we didn¡¯t know how the human body works,¡± Pryce warned. ¡°We can do surgery when we learn more about a dragon¡¯s body, but right now that¡¯s a bad idea, why do you ask?¡±
¡°You said you like to heal people, and there are a few dragons who have injuries like mine,¡± Fathom shrugged. ¡°I thought maybe you could help them.¡±
¡°Wouldn¡¯t that make more competition for you?¡± Pryce asked with a raised eyebrow.
¡°Yes¡but you are right,¡± Fathom said slowly, and deliberately, ¡°there are some things that should be deserved, and dragons deserve to fly,¡± he said resolutely as he looked down at Pryce, who blinked in surprise.
¡°I¡¯m glad you think so,¡± Pryce said with a pleased smile.
¡°Besides, I could beat them anyway, even if they were healed,¡± Fathom added pridefully, stoking his ego ¨C then he abruptly turned to face the cave entrance.
¡°What is it? Do you hear someone?¡± Pryce hissed anxiously as he hoped the universe wasn¡¯t about to prove Fathom wrong.
¡°What? No, I just smell the meat. I think it¡¯s done cooking,¡± Fathom said leisurely just as Pryce punched him in his bicep. ¡°What was that for?¡± He asked, drawing back in surprise rather than any degree of pain.
¡°You scared me, I thought you heard a dragon coming to fight you,¡± Pryce grumbled, rubbing his smarting knuckles.
¡°Oh, sorry,¡± Fathom apologized mirthfully as he failed to stifle the amused chuckle that rumbled deep within his chest.
¡°Whatever,¡± Pryce grumbled dismissively. ¡°I¡¯m hungry, let¡¯s go eat.¡±
[JOURNAL ENTRY]
Day 76,
Fathom continues to exercise and improve his stamina, which is recovering very quickly. He should be fine to fly over to Celeste in four days.
I taught Fathom some of the basics of chemistry today. I know I¡¯ve said this many times, but his intelligence is just ridiculous; he¡¯s repeatedly applied the concepts I¡¯ve just taught him mere seconds ago to something I mentioned over a month ago. I¡¯m kind of proud of him, but at this rate it won¡¯t take long for him to learn everything I can teach him.
I¡¯m very much looking forward to seeing other dragons ¨C assuming they¡¯re not hostile, of course, but I trust Fathom¡¯s judgment.
Chapter 41, Day 77 – 78: Relations
[JOURNAL ENTRY]
Day 77,
Today I read Fathom some books about minerals. I didn¡¯t have any particular interest in the subject, but Fathom¡¯s childlike interest in everything turned out to be rather infectious. It was fun to categorize the various minerals in his collection, and it turns out he has quite a few rare ones ¨C including a few I could not identify. That¡¯s not surprising; this is a completely different land. It¡¯s expected that there would be all sorts of never-before-seen minerals here.
Like I said, I¡¯m no geologist, but there was a massive chunk of (what the textbook identified to be) copper pyrite, or chalcopyrite, in Fathom¡¯s collection. Then he told me that copper pyrite is abundant on the island, so much so that it¡¯s normally considered a rather worthless ore ¨C the one in his collection is just a particularly auspicious specimen with naturally formed pyrite cubes sticking out of it.
Copper is a rather rare resource on the mainland, and most of the easily accessible deposits have already been mined. This is a pretty momentous discovery, especially if Alternis was originally a piece of the massive island to the west. That means even more copper.
Not that I have a use for copper ore at the moment, but it¡¯s still good news for the future.
Fathom¡¯s endurance continues to improve quickly. I¡¯m not sure how long he can fly at a normal pace, but he flew at a relatively intense rate for half an hour today. By ¡®intense¡¯ I mean flapping and light diving. Even with their low density, dragons are still bound by the laws of physics. With how much mass they have, feats of agility seen in (reasonably sized) birds are simply beyond them.
Even still, it¡¯s interesting to see this limitation reflected in the way they fly. As expected, casual flight almost entirely consists of gliding and riding thermals, but quicker maneuvers almost always begin with a dive in order to accelerate ¨C not that I allowed Fathom do anything extreme, newly recovered as he is.
There¡¯s no napkin math I can do to analyze dragon flight with any degree of accuracy, but I don¡¯t need math to tell they must have some absurd biological adaptations just to have enough power to lift straight off the ground. Muscles generally use two kinds of respiration: aerobic and anaerobic. Anaerobic is nearly worse than aerobic in every way, with the caveat that it does not require oxygen and that it occurs rapidly ¨C this means that they¡¯re well suited for short bursts of explosive power, but are outclassed by aerobic muscles in any kind of prolonged use.
If I had to guess, I would say a dragon¡¯s wing muscles use anaerobic respiration to power the takeoff, then the muscles switch to aerobic respiration for gliding. Then again, it¡¯s not out of the realm of possibility for them to be utilizing a different kind of respiration yet unknown to science. Or perhaps their muscle cells simply store vast quantities of ATP[1] to be used in bursts.
Later in the day he went to chat with his neighbors, mostly to let them know that he hasn¡¯t keeled over yet, but also to catch up on whatever gossip he¡¯s missed out on, which wasn''t much according to his brief summary.
I voiced some concern over us leaving his territory for a few days, but Fathom told me that if a dragon notifies their neighbors of their absence, then their possessions and territory cannot be looted. This courtesy is partially offered for honorable reasons, but also because dragons value a ¡®proper¡¯ victory as much as the prize.
Of course, sometimes this courtesy isn¡¯t obeyed, or sometimes dragons from several territories over can drop by and decide to pillage, but Fathom doesn¡¯t seem too concerned about that.
He stated that under normal circumstances he would have called in a favor to have someone patrol his territory, but a hypothetical house-sitter would inevitably see The Horizon sitting right outside his doorstep. Even if I risked moving the ship back to the beach it would still be easily visible, especially to a dragon¡¯s keen eyes, so that plan won¡¯t fly is a no-go.
In the end, the best option is for us to simply return home every few days to check up on his things. Troublesome, but not undoable.
[Day 78]
¡°So, we meet Celeste two days from now, we teach her English, and then get her to help us look for the rescue ship that will be on day 100, at the earliest,¡± Pryce summarized.
Fathom nodded, his jaws shut tightly to keep his mouthful of food from falling out.
¡°Are there any other dragons that you can get help from? What about your parents, your father and mother?¡± Pryce asked cautiously. Fathom hadn¡¯t mentioned them much, though he wasn¡¯t sure if that was because something bad had happened or if parents just weren¡¯t close to their children once they reached maturity.
Fathom swallowed audibly before answering, ¡°No, I don¡¯t know other dragons that I trust with humans,¡± he said decisively. ¡°Why would my parents help me?¡± He asked, tilting his head in genuine confusion.
¡°Well, humans usually help their families, but I guess dragons don¡¯t do that.¡± Pryce said, scratching his head. ¡°Won¡¯t your parents be interested in humans?¡±
¡°Dragons don¡¯t do that very much, and maybe they will be interested, but¡¡± Fathom trailed off, looking away shamefacedly. ¡°There are things a dragon is supposed to do, and it makes parents¡look bad, if their child does not do well.¡±
Pryce grimaced; apparently humans weren¡¯t alone in having parents with high expectations. A moment later he looked up to see Fathom glancing away, as if he had been caught staring.
¡°Do you want to ask about my parents?¡± Pryce asked. Fathom had become fairly easy to read once Pryce had gotten to know him, and the dragon blinked in surprise at the accurate guess.
¡°Yes, how did you know?¡±
¡°Lucky guess,¡± Pryce shrugged. ¡°My mother got sick and died when I was ten years old, and my father raised me until I was an adult. He died fourteen years ago, from a¡different sickness.¡± Fathom was silent, and Pryce chuckled upon seeing that same restrained look on his face that he had earlier. ¡°It¡¯s okay to ask questions, they died a long time ago, I am not very sad anymore,¡± he reassured.
¡°Okay, what kind of sickness did they have?¡± Fathom asked, visibly relaxing.
¡°My mother had a sickness that needed surgery, but she died because of it. My father had a sickness that made him forget things.¡±
¡°Forget things? But you already forget things often,¡± Fathom said, in his oddly genuine way of stating a somewhat insulting observation without a shred of malice.
¡°Yes,¡± Pryce said, strained, but still patient. ¡°But this is different. He forgot everything.¡±
¡°...Everything?¡± Fathom asked quietly, eyes widened though he had not yet fully understood the ramifications.
¡°Everything,¡± Pryce confirmed grimly. ¡°He lived for ten years with the sickness, slowly forgetting things. He forgot his work, he forgot his name, he forgot his friends, and¡he forgot me,¡± he said, quiet and low.
¡°...dragons do not have sickness like that,¡± Fathom murmured, spines flattened in horror. ¡°How can you forget everything? Do many humans get sick like that?¡±
¡°No, it is rare, very rare,¡± Pryce reassured.
¡°That sickness is horrible, worse than death,¡± Fathom hissed, shaking his head and looking as rattled as Pryce had ever seen him. ¡°Don¡¯t humans have medicine for that sickness?¡±
¡°Yes, it¡¯s a horrible way to die, and no, we don¡¯t have any medicine that helps much, we don¡¯t even know what causes it,¡± Pryce said grimly.
¡°...You will not¡forget everything, will you?¡± Fathom asked, his head lowering in concern.
¡°Probably not, it¡¯s not hereditary; that means if a parent has an illness then their children will have that same illness. Besides, I don¡¯t think I could forget you, even if I wanted to,¡± Pryce chuckled, hoping it didn¡¯t sound forced. Fathom didn¡¯t seem to buy it, but he didn¡¯t say anything either. Hoping to change the topic, Pryce asked, ¡°Is there anything else you wanted to learn about?¡±
¡°Hmm¡¡± Fathom rumbled, looking a little torn. For a moment Pryce wondered if he was going to ask about Alzheimers, but instead he said, ¡°Dragons remember dragons who are very good at doing things, like fighting, or flying, or making things. I¡¯m sure humans do this too, is there a word for it?¡±
¡°Yes, very much,¡± Pryce nodded. ¡°Humans who are known by many other humans are ¡®famous¡¯, do you want to learn about famous humans? Maybe famous human fighters?¡±
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¡°Oh, yes,¡± Fathom nodded eagerly. ¡°You have said that humans fight, but that is hard to imagine. Who was the strongest human? What did they do?¡± Fathom asked, tilting his head curiously.
¡°By ¡®strongest¡¯, do you mean the human who killed most other humans in battle, or the human who can lift the heaviest thing?¡±
¡°...Both,¡± Fathom said after a moment¡¯s thought.
¡°I¡¯m¡actually not sure if I know the second one,¡± Pryce said apologetically.
¡°Why did you ask if you don¡¯t know?¡± Fathom asked, rolling his eyes.
¡°Fair point,¡± Pryce conceded, rubbing his neck sheepishly. ¡°There was a man who lifted over two thousand kilograms on his back, but I¡¯m not sure.¡±
¡°Two thousand? That does not sound right, that is only a bit less than half of me,¡± Fathom said as he dubiously examined Pryce¡¯s tiny frame. ¡°Do humans get much larger than you?¡±
¡°I¡¯m a little bit taller and stronger than average, but strong humans are much stronger than me,¡± Pryce explained. ¡°I have a mass of 70 kilograms, but very strong humans have a mass of maybe 250 kilograms.¡±
¡°That is a very big difference,¡± Fathom noted. ¡°Strong humans have more mass than three of you. Dragons are only a little bigger or smaller than other dragons, but I don¡¯t know how much mass they have. What about the human who killed the most enemies in battle?¡±
¡°To answer your question, I need to explain that people who fight in wars are called soldiers, and there was one soldier about fifty years ago who killed at least 200 enemy soldiers, maybe 300.¡±
Fathom hissed in alarm, evidently very surprised by this. ¡°How did he kill so many?¡±
¡°He was very, very good at using a gun to shoot enemies from far away.¡± Pryce paused. ¡°Is, not was ¨C I''m pretty sure he¡¯s still alive,¡± he amended.
¡°It is not honorable to kill like that, and it seems very easy to kill with a gun,¡± Fathom said, a note of disapproval in his voice. ¡°Are there others who killed many like him?¡±
¡°No, no one was close.¡± Pryce shook his head emphatically. ¡°The other soldiers have guns too, so what he did was¡very impressive, even if it wasn¡¯t exactly good.¡±
¡°Why was it not good?¡± Fathom asked, blinking.
Pryce sighed. ¡°It¡¯s complicated, he killed a lot of people who were attacking his home, so I don¡¯t think he did anything wrong, but the soldiers attacked because their land did not have food; it¡¯s important to understand that people usually have reasons for the things that they do, even if they are not good reasons,¡± Pryce said, staring pointedly into the deep red eyes. The effect was a little undermined by the fact that he could only really make eye contact with one eye at a time, but Fathom seemed to grasp his intent.
¡°...I think I understand a little,¡± Fathom said slowly, scowling as he considered this dilemma. ¡°But why did their land not have food? It is a dragon¡¯s responsibility to make their territory healthy, do humans not do this?¡± He asked severely, then paused to frown for a moment as he asked, ¡°Did cutting down forests make people hungry?¡±
¡°Well, that didn¡¯t help, but humans don¡¯t really take food from the forest, we make places for plants and animals to grow, called farms-¡±
¡°You told me this before,¡± Fathom interrupted.
¡°Oh, right,¡± Pryce blinked, remembering it now that Fathom had reminded him. ¡°Anyway, farms need a lot of work, and things like bugs, bad weather, and disease can all kill plants and animals. If this happens lots of people have no food to eat. This gets worse in wars, because if there¡¯s a war very few people are making food, which means more people get hungry, which means less food is made, which means even more people are hungry, and everything gets worse and worse.¡±
Fathom only rumbled quietly in response, so Pryce took the opportunity to ask, ¡°What do you mean dragons make their territory healthy? What do you do?¡± Pryce asked.
¡°If there are too many predators, we kill them,¡± Fathom explained, holding his head up with pride as he said this.
¡°Do you do anything else?¡± Pryce was privately skeptical that a few dragons could significantly affect the thousands of animals in their territory, but perhaps he was wrong.
¡°If one dragon has too many predators, and a neighbor has too many prey, they can chase predators to the territory with prey,¡± Fathom added.
¡°That¡might work?¡± Pryce frowned. He hadn¡¯t studied how ecosystems worked in detail, but even if he had it wouldn¡¯t have been very helpful given the foreign ecology. ¡°It¡¯s good that dragons want to take care of their territory, it took a long time for humans to learn how to do that.¡±
¡°Yes, we are proud of our territories, we want to see them live well,¡± Fathom explained. ¡°The Draconic word for dragon means¡¡®person who takes care of something¡¯,¡± Fathom said, shrugging a wing vaguely in an attempt to convey the concept. ¡°Do you have an English word for that?¡±
¡°That¡¯s¡interesting,¡± Pryce said, surprised by the mundane word for their own people. Humans decided to call themselves homo sapiens sapiens, which was rather narcissistic given that it meant ¡®smart smart man¡¯. ¡°I guess the word for that would be ¡®keeper¡¯.¡±
¡°What does the word human mean?¡± Fathom asked interestedly.
¡°I¡¯m not certain, but I¡¯m pretty sure it just means ¡®human¡¯,¡± Pryce shrugged.
¡°No meaning, like dragon names,¡± Fathom nodded amiably.
¡°What other humans did you want to know about?¡± Pryce asked.
¡°Hmm¡guns feel like cheating. What about famous humans who fought without guns?¡± Fathom asked.
Pryce furrowed his brow, trying to recall details of one man in particular. ¡°There was a famous man who lived five hundred years ago, people say he killed three hundred enemy soldiers,¡± Pryce said, causing Fathom to rear his head in surprise.
¡°Three hundred? With no guns? What weapons did he use?¡± Fathom asked incredulously, his spines twitching in shock.
¡°He used weapons that were just pieces of sharp metal, like machetes, but different. I¡¯m not sure what he used,¡± Pryce admitted.
Fathom rumbled discontentedly at this. ¡°There was one very famous dragon who was hatched over one thousand years ago, and he only beat three other dragons in a fight.¡±
¡°Well, this soldier lived over five hundred years ago, so the story might not be very accurate,¡± Pryce admitted. ¡°He supposedly fought on a bridge, which is a thing humans make that goes over water. This bridge was narrow, so only two people could fight at a time.¡±
¡°...yes, that makes sense, humans cannot fly,¡± Fathom said, bobbing his head lightly. ¡°That is very impressive, even if he killed less than three hundred soldiers. What did he do before and after this battle?¡±
¡°Before, he was protecting someone important to him, and he didn¡¯t do anything after the battle because he died. People say that he killed three hundred soldiers, then the rest of the soldiers killed him with arrows, which are sticks with sharp metal tips. There were no guns back then,¡± he added.
¡°Why didn¡¯t they use arrows first?¡±
¡°Um¡I¡¯m not sure. Maybe the soldiers wanted to fight him honorably?¡±
¡°I can understand that,¡± Fathom said, nodding thoughtfully. ¡°This soldier protected someone, do you think what they did was good?¡± He asked, eyeing Pryce to gauge his reaction.
¡°I don¡¯t know, no one knows the details because it was so long ago,¡± Pryce confessed. ¡°I¡¯m sure very few of those soldiers deserved to die, but sometimes there¡¯s no good choice for anyone to make. I think if you must kill someone, the least you can do is to understand why they did the things that they did.¡±
¡°That is ¨C wait, are you still talking about humans¡?¡± Fathom asked, narrowing his eyes.
¡°What do you think?¡±
¡°...you don¡¯t want me to kill Pathogen,¡± Fathom scowled.
¡°No, I don¡¯t,¡± Pryce said. ¡°At least-¡±
¡°Why? You know he almost killed us!¡± Fathom demanded, his deep voice adopting tones of irritation and anger. ¡°I need to kill him, so why does it matter if I understand him or not?¡± Fathom paused, and he almost seemed to deflate as his ire faded. Quietly, he admitted, ¡°I have never been so sick before, and I know that¡that I would have died, if you were not here.¡±
¡°I know,¡± Pryce said quietly.
¡°Pathogen will try to kill me again, and he will probably try to kill you too. The safest thing to do is to kill him first,¡± Fathom said reasonably, trying a different tactic.
¡°I know,¡± Pryce sighed, ¡°But tell me; do you know why he¡¯s been trying to kill you?¡±
¡°Because he hates me,¡± Fathom growled.
¡°But do you know why he hates you?¡± Pryce pressed.
Fathom opened his mouth to answer, but upon realizing that he had no response to give he closed it without saying a word.
¡°I know he¡¯s dangerous,¡± Pryce said, reaching up to pat the dragon¡¯s lowered muzzle, ¡°and I don¡¯t want you to get hurt if he tries to kill you. So, if he tries to talk to you, the only thing I want you to do is to ask him why he¡¯s trying to kill you, okay?¡±
Fathom hesitated for a moment. ¡°...Yes, I promise that if I can, I will ask him why he wants to kill me.¡±
¡°Thank you,¡± Pryce said, nodding in relief as he smiled at Fathom. ¡°I won¡¯t be mad if you have to kill him, I just want to make sure you won¡¯t regret anything.¡±
¡°Yes,¡± the dragon said slowly, his tone undecipherable as he looked to the late evening sky. ¡°It is late. We are going to leave in two days, do you have everything you want to bring?¡±
¡°Yes, I packed it all days ago.¡±
¡°Good,¡± Fathom said, scratching his neck awkwardly.
¡°Is there something you wanted to ask?¡± Pryce ventured when Fathom said nothing.
¡°I still think you are safer in my hands, but¡do you still want to ride on my back?¡±
[JOURNAL ENTRY]
I¡¯m going
Day 78,
I¡¯m going to be riding on the back of a dragon tomorrow. It¡¯ll just be a test flight, of course, but still ¨C flying dragonback!
I should¡¯ve listed today¡¯s events in chronological order, but who cares? I¡¯m going to be the first human in history to fly on the back of a dragon. If I think about it, I¡¯m the first human in history to do a lot of things with a dragon. My biography is going to be a pretty long one. Assuming people learn I survived in the first place, of course.
Today we talked about human history, Fathom expressed interest in historical figures ¨C specifically the strongest ones. I don¡¯t think there¡¯s any way to properly explain human history with the resources I have, especially when I don¡¯t know much of it in the first place.
Tomorrow we go and visit Fathom¡¯s daughter, who according to Fathom¡¯s latest intelligence should still be living with the same two dragons she¡¯s been with for the last fourteen years. If all goes to plan, I¡¯ll be meeting three new dragons in a little over 24 hours.
Fathom offered to let me fly on his back, and I began modifying a fishing harness today ¨C the kind used to make sure a fisherman doesn¡¯t get pulled overboard ¨C so that I can secure myself to chains that Fathom will wear like crisscrossing sashes around his neck and shoulders, while he holds the baggage in his talons. His scales are pretty hard, so I¡¯ll wear a few layers of thick clothing. Hopefully things won¡¯t be too uncomfortable.
Chapter 42, Day 79: Test Flight
¡°Have you ever met the two dragons Celeste is living with?¡± Pryce asked as he worked on reinforcing his makeshift harness.
¡°...No, I have never seen them,¡± Fathom said, shifting a little uncomfortably. ¡°But I know about them; they¡¯re both old females, one who is a great fighter, the other is a great¡maker? I knew you would be interested in her,¡± he rumbled in amusement when Pryce looked up at the mention of a maker.
¡°What are their names?¡± Pryce asked, putting down his tools to focus on this conversation.
¡°The fighter¡¯s name is Ghorrah-?, and the maker¡¯s name is Jooral-?. Ghorrah probably isn¡¯t very interesting to you, but Jooral lost a fight a long time ago and broke her wing very badly ¨C she cannot fly at all,¡± Fathom said gravely.
¡°Oh,¡± Pryce said, wincing in sympathy. It must be terribly distressing for a dragon to be unable to fly, but he wondered if the crippling injury was the reason why she became a great ¡®maker¡¯ in the first place. ¡°What kind of things does¡Jooral-¡± Fathom flattened his spines as Pryce butchered her name ¡°-make?¡±
¡°Mostly carvings, some that are useful, some are only pretty, but she is also one of the only dragons who can make shaped-stone.¡±
¡°Shaped-stone?¡± Pryce asked with a raised eyebrow.
¡°Things that are like stone, but shaped like wood carvings. She can make things like your cups, but they look like stone.¡±
¡°Oh, clay pots,¡± Pryce said in realization.
¡°Should I assume that humans can make anything we can?¡± Fathom asked in a dramatically resigned tone.
¡°Probably, unless it¡¯s something made with things that are only found on this island,¡± Pryce shrugged complacently.
¡°...usually you explain how things are made,¡± Fathom said pointedly.
¡°Hm? Oh, right,¡± Pryce chuckled. ¡°Clay pots use a special type of dirt. When you make it wet, it becomes soft, which lets you change its shape. Once you¡¯re done making the shape you want, you use fire to cook the clay at high temperatures, and it becomes hard.¡±
¡°That¡doesn¡¯t sound very hard,¡± Fathom said, looking a little disappointed. ¡°But I can see why very few dragons learned how to make clay; I don¡¯t know any dragon who plays with dirt.¡±
¡°It¡¯s a lot harder than it sounds, the type of dirt is important, and the temperature has to be the same for a long time, and even if you do things right the pots might crack anyway,¡± Pryce explained as he held a length of rope up to Fathom. ¡°Here, pull on this, but use your fingers and not your talons, I want to see if this harness is strong.¡±
¡°This is very bright and colorful,¡± Fathom noted with interest. ¡°How much do you want me to pull?¡± He asked, looking dubiously at the relatively thin strand of neon orange rope.
¡°It only needs to keep me from falling off your back, so¡not too hard?¡± Pryce shrugged.
Fathom snorted at this vague answer before looping the rope around his fingers, and gently pulled.
It didn¡¯t budge.
Seeing that the rope could take it, he pulled a bit harder.
¡It still didn¡¯t budge.
Surprised at the strength of the material, he pulled even harder-
¡°Don¡¯t pull too hard!¡± Pryce yelled with an abortive wave.
¡°What is that material?¡± Fathom huffed, dropping the harness.
¡°Nylon rope, it¡¯s strong and light. I also don¡¯t know exactly how to make it,¡± Pryce explained as he examined the rope, nodding when he found no visible damage. He knew that polymers such as nylon were made by heating and pressurizing crude oil, but he wasn¡¯t clear on the specifics, and Fathom wouldn''t really understand polymer chains anyway.
¡°You don¡¯t know how to make it?¡± Fathom asked. ¡°Must be very complicated...can I try pulling very hard?¡±
¡°Why? I have a lot, but it¡¯s useful, I don¡¯t want to destroy any without a good reason.¡±
¡°...I don¡¯t want to lose to a small rope,¡± Fathom grumbled as he glowered at the rope, causing Pryce to chuckle.
¡°This rope is one centimeter in diameter, I should have to hang something weighing more than 1800 kilograms to break this, so you can probably break it,¡± Pryce said in an attempt to reassure Fathom¡¯s bruised ego.
¡°Are you going to use that rope to make the ¡®harness¡¯ that you mentioned earlier?¡± Fathom asked, a little assuaged. ¡°At least something like that will not break.¡±
¡°Close, I¡¯m going to use it to change the harness I already have, and to make it stronger.¡±
¡°Celeste will be interested in things like that. Jooral-?too, probably,¡± Fathom said.
¡°I¡¯m already planning to bring some interesting things to show them, but I can bring some rope too, if you think they¡¯ll find it interesting,¡± Pryce said, then blinked. ¡°Why did you say -? for Jooral, but not for Celeste?¡±
¡°That¡¯s not really a part of the name, that is used to say a name properly. Dragons who are related to each other might not say the -? part,¡± Fathom explained. ¡°I think It is like how you said humans call you Doctor Pryce.¡±
¡°That makes sense,¡± Pryce nodded. ¡°This is all very interesting stuff, but I¡¯m getting distracted; I need to finish this harness today so we can test it out.¡±
¡°Don¡¯t blame me; you¡¯re the one who started asking questions,¡± Fathom grumbled laconically as he rolled his eyes, which Pryce could not dispute. ¡°Why are you attaching the compass to the harness?¡± He asked as he watched Pryce work.
¡°So I can find out which way we¡¯re going without having to ask you,¡± Pryce said offhandedly. ¡°Speaking of the compass, I¡¯ve been thinking; what is that scale you pointed at earlier called? The magnet that feels weird. Does it do anything?¡±
¡°This is called¡hmm¡¡± Fathom rumbled as he pondered how to best translate the name of the odd scale. ¡°I think I will translate it as ¡®lesser eye¡¯, and it can sense light.¡±
¡°It can sense ¨C oh!¡± Pryce exclaimed, ¡°It¡¯s a parietal eye!¡±
¡°You have a name for this already? I don¡¯t see one on your head, do other animals have this?¡± Fathom asked, cocking his head.
¡°Yes, we think animals that have this eye can only sense light or dark, but can¡¯t really see with it, is that how it works for you?¡± Pryce asked excitedly.
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¡°Yes, I can¡¯t ¡®see¡¯ with this eye, but I can sense if something is above me; it is useful for when someone tries to attack me from above,¡± Fathom explained disinterestedly, mundane subject that it was to him.
¡°I¡¯m so glad that you can just tell me what things you can sense,¡± Pryce sighed thankfully. ¡°This is so much easier than doing a bunch of tests.¡±
¡°Do you have any senses I do not?¡± Fathom rumbled in a contemplative tone.
¡°If we do, I can¡¯t think of any,¡± Pryce shrugged, and returned to his work.
¡°That thing on your head looks weird, what is it?¡± Fathom asked, sounding equally bewildered as he was amused.
"It''s a face shield," Pryce said, adjusting the large transparent plastic flap. "Face shields are supposed to protect faces, and I¡¯m using this one to protect my face from the wind."
"Just use your..." Fathom trailed off and peered closely at Pryce''s masked face. "Do you have these?" He asked, flicking his nictitating membranes back and forth.
"No, those are called nictitating membranes, and humans don¡¯t have those."
"You don¡¯t have them? Humans are strange,¡± Fathom snorted. ¡°How do you see underwater if you do not have nicti¨Cnictitating membranes?¡± He asked, stumbling over the somewhat difficult word.
¡°We don¡¯t.¡±
¡°Well, that sounds inconvenient¡¡± Fathom said, scowling. ¡°What is this face shield made of? It is clear, like human glass, but it looks like it can bend,¡± he said, gently tapping on the face shield with a talon.
¡°This is plastic, a material humans made. It does not exist in nature, but it¡¯s very useful since it¡¯s so strong and light,¡± Pryce said.
¡°How do you make it?¡± Fathom asked,
¡°This is also very complicated, I don¡¯t know enough about plastic to explain it to you,¡± Pryce admitted. He knew it was somehow made by subjecting crude oil to high heat and pressure, but that wouldn¡¯t explain anything to Fathom. ¡°Humans only made it for the first time about seventy years ago.¡±
¡°That is very interesting, I have never seen anything like plastic before,¡± Fathom said, breaking his gaze from the alien material to ask, ¡°Are you ready to fly?¡± He asked, sitting down cat-like so that Pryce could climb up.
¡°Yes, let me just¡¡± Pryce stared at the dragon¡¯s shoulder. It had to be about two meters from the ground to the top of the dragon¡¯s back, with nothing but smooth scales to grab ahold of. ¡°I can¡¯t climb up like this.¡±
¡°My back is not very tall; can you not just jump?¡± Fathom asked.
¡°I definitely can¡¯t jump two meters,¡± Pryce said emphatically.
¡°Try.¡±
Pryce shrugged helplessly as he took a few steps back, ran, and jumped up as high as he could ¨C only for his fingers to scrabble against scale, and with no purchase he bounced off of the dragon¡¯s hide to fall rear-first onto the ground.
Or he would have, if Fathom hadn¡¯t curled his neck around to catch and push Pryce up with his head, allowing the human to sit astride the base of his neck.
¡°Maybe next time you can just extend your arm, and I can try climbing up,¡± Pryce suggested, feeling a little embarrassed; it felt like the sort of maneuver used to help up a hatchling.
¡°But that is how we push hatchlings up,¡± Fathom said, confirming Pryce¡¯s suspicions. He couldn¡¯t say for sure, but if he didn¡¯t know any better, he would have sworn there was a note of amusement in the dragon¡¯s tone. ¡°That or we pick them up with our mouths, but I don¡¯t think you would like that.¡±
Pryce gave up on trying to decide if Fathom was being clever or genuinely considerate, instead he focused on clipping himself to the two chains slung across Fathom¡¯s chest in an X shape, while a padlock at the center of his chest dangled like an odd pendant ¨C that would keep the chains from shifting around. He had Fathom try flying with the chains in this position yesterday, and it did not seem to impede his flight at all.
It might have been simpler to just loop a single chain around his neck, but there was no way for him to keep it from sliding around. There was nothing for him to grab onto other than the dragon¡¯s neck, and any moderately intense flying in this setup would leave him dangling against the dragon¡¯s chest like the world¡¯s first human pendant.
Three thick steel carabiners clipped around one link from each chain to ensure that he would not fall to his death ¨C hopefully. This reinforced harness was incredibly durable, but it obviously wasn¡¯t designed for riding dragons in mind.
¡°Do you think you could catch me if I fell off?¡± Pryce asked nervously. He sat so that his legs could straddle the base of Fathom¡¯s neck, which meant he had to sit on the chains themselves, but he¡¯d wrapped those sections in leather so that it wouldn¡¯t be too uncomfortable.
¡°That depends on how high we are,¡± Fathom huffed in annoyance. ¡°I said you would be safer in my hands, but you wanted to ride on my neck.¡±
¡°Yeah, but this trip is going to take hours,¡± Pryce said, waving off his concern before tightening his grip. ¡°I¡¯m ready.¡±
Fathom glanced back at him with an expression Pryce wasn¡¯t sure how to decipher, but soon fanned out his wings and crouched, giving Pryce time to brace against the dragon¡¯s neck before he launched himself into the air, his great wings forcing down massive gusts of air with each beat.
It was only now that Pryce realized the base of the neck might not be the best place to sit, as every stroke of the dragon¡¯s wings threw him up and down in a distinctly uncomfortable manner. He couldn¡¯t speak up about it either, as doing so would result in biting his own tongue. He was doubly glad that he had reinforced the harness so much; without it he would¡¯ve definitely been thrown off.
With nothing to do he focused on maintaining his grip on the chains, hugging Fathom¡¯s neck with his arms and legs as they ascended beat by beat. Fortunately, Fathom had jumped off a cliff near an updraft, and it didn¡¯t take long for him to begin spiraling upwards in tight circles without the need to flap his wings.
Pryce¡¯s ears popped uncomfortably as they rose, and his hands grew numb despite the thick gloves he wore ¨C though that might have been due to his iron grip rather than the low temperature. Soon Fathom leveled off into a straight glide, and Pryce gradually eased his grasp once he felt he was in no danger of being thrown off.
¡°Are you okay?¡± Positioned as Pryce was, Fathom¡¯s deep voice reverberated through his entire body. It was an odd sensation to feel the words just as much as he heard them.
¡°Yeah, I¡¯m okay,¡± Pryce said, but it came out quieter than he had intended, especially behind the face shield and the howling winds. ¡°I¡¯m okay!¡± He called out, still quieter than he would have liked, but loud enough that it should be audible.
¡°I heard you speak the first time,¡± Fathom called out, still facing forwards. His sleek, angular head easily cut through what little resistance the air offered.
The first flight with Fathom had given him a fantastic view, but at the base of the neck Pryce was free to turn his own neck and torso to look wherever he pleased, and the vibrant sunset made for an awe-inspiring sight. The red sun was low to the west, and spotted clusters of cumulus clouds dotted the otherwise brilliantly golden skies. The winds were not intolerable, especially with the face shield doing its job keeping the worst of the wind from drying out his eyes and lips. He would have felt like he was on the top of the world if not for the towering mountain range towards the center of the island, whose peaks dwarfed their considerable altitude of perhaps a few hundred meters above sea level.
¡°Is this working?¡± Fathom asked when his passenger remained silent for several minutes.
Pryce rubbed his aching face, realizing he was grinning widely.
¡°Oh yeah, this is working.¡±
[JOURNAL ENTRY]
Day 79,
Test flight went great today, though I¡¯ll probably end up saddle-sore after tomorrow¡¯s 3-4 hour long flight. Ascent is unpleasant, but once Fathom started gliding it was more sedate than I expected.
Fathom spent the afternoon hiding his treasures so that none are stolen while we¡¯re away. He said that dragons normally ask their neighbors to look after their respective territories when they leave for a period of time. This seemed like a great amount of trust to give, but Fathom says it¡¯s a common thing for neighbors to do if one needs to leave for a time. As expected, it¡¯s more of a mutually beneficial transaction rather than a purely benevolent act.
Unfortunately, that¡¯s not an option for us, as any dragon flying Fathom¡¯s territory would see The Horizon, which we can¡¯t really hide. Our only option is to just hope no one finds it. Neither of us are comfortable with leaving this place unattended, but it just can¡¯t be helped.
I caught Fathom inspecting himself through the mirror today; I think he¡¯s feeling self-conscious about his dull color and/or weakened body, especially when he¡¯s about to meet his daughter again for the first time in at least fourteen years. He¡¯s nearly fully regained his lost muscle, at least by my estimate, but his color is admittedly still much duller than before despite his reintroduction of blue lizards into his diet. Perhaps it takes some time for the pigment to work its way into his hide.
Fathom told me about the two dragons Celeste is living with, named Ghorrah and Jooral ¨C the closest approximations I can do with the alphabet. He also taught me that the -? suffix at the end of their names is something like an honorific, so recording that won¡¯t be necessary. He explained that Ghorrah had a reputation as a strong fighter, while Jooral was badly injured long ago and can no longer fly. Interestingly, the latter is apparently known as an artisan; will be something to see.
I¡¯ve already got some ideas on what name to give her ¨C maybe Tenacity, or Fortitude, or Perseverance ¨C but until I get to know them better Fathom will have to put up with my poor attempts at their names.
I¡¯m excited to be meeting new dragons, but I would be lying if I said I weren¡¯t a little anxious.
Chapter 43, Day 80: Skyward
They left early in the morning so that they would be less likely to run into any other dragons; the backpacks Fathom held would have been difficult to explain, never mind the human on his neck.
Fathom followed along the edge of the mountain range, traveling north while occasionally adjusting his direction as he took note of certain landmarks that would have been completely meaningless to Pryce.
¡°Look down, where there¡¯s no trees,¡± Fathom called out ten or fifteen minutes into the trip.
¡°Grab onto the chains, please,¡± Pryce reminded, and leaned over to look once Fathom did so. The chains were held in place with the padlock, but there was still some slack that Fathom could reduce by holding it in place.
Looking down at the ground, Pryce could see a decently sized clearing where dozens of black dots sat on a hill. Bringing up his binoculars ¨C they didn¡¯t work great with a face shield in the way, but it was better than nothing ¨C he saw what could have only been the armorillas Fathom had mentioned. Their bulk was truly imposing; even from this great height their stout, hulking bodies only gave the impression of thick muscle and armor rather than clumsiness as one might have expected from such round creatures.
They passed these animals quickly, and though they did not flee Pryce was certain these vaguely ape-like creatures were watching Fathom carefully for the slightest indication of a dive.
Half an hour later they left behind the denser parts of the forest, and the land beneath them was starting to become more of a plain, especially as the mountain range fell away towards the center of the island.
¡°Gryphons,¡± Fathom noted, and Pryce peered over in time to see a small group of the creatures, one of which sat up with a piercing cry of alarm to notify the others of the potential danger. All of the avians stared intently at Fathom as he flew by, looking ready to bolt at a moment¡¯s notice. Pryce wondered if they had seen Fathom kill that old gryphon he had ultimately dissected, or if they were just naturally wary. Fathom did say dragons had a tendency to cull the populations of predators every once in a while, so perhaps that was the reason for their cautious gazes.
Later on, they saw black tortoises as well, creatures of great lumbering masses that dwarfed every other creature Pryce had seen thus far, with the exception of dragons. They were much shorter, perhaps 5 to 7 meters in length, but their jet-black shells were so round that their volume had to be far greater. They moved slowly, but not as slowly as Pryce would have expected from a creature of such size, and he wondered if that round shell hid any sacs of hydrogen gas inside of it. With so much possible volume the creature could be three to five hundred kilograms lighter than it otherwise would¡¯ve been, at least according to the napkin math he had done in his head.
¡°Do black tortoises have hydrogen gas inside of their shells?¡± Pryce called out over the wind.
¡°Yes, lots of hydrogen,¡± Fathom answered easily, vindicating Pryce¡¯s hypothesis. ¡°Why do you ask?¡±
¡°They look too big to move, so I thought that if their shells had hydrogen in them then they would be lighter than they look,¡± Pryce said, glad Fathom had not seen him fist-pump in celebration.
¡°Look!¡± Fathom cried excitedly as he extended his empty hand to point at a herd of animals. ¡°Those are the bulls I tried to draw!¡±
¡°Give me a minute, I¡¯m trying to see,¡± Pryce said as he squinted through his binoculars at the dots in the distance. Fathom changed course to bring them closer, and soon Pryce could see the bizarre creatures in great detail. Their bodies were thick and powerful, but otherwise relatively normal. What was strange was their single, thick horn where Pryce guessed their noses should¡¯ve been, along with the two arms that protruded from their shoulders to grab any leaves that they would otherwise have been unable to reach.
The arms were muscular and powerful, but compared to their tree-trunk like legs they did seem a bit thin and out of place. Pryce still had no idea what to call these creatures, though he did amuse himself with the possibility of naming them unicorns. If he used the proper root words to call them nose-horns, that would be¡rhinoceros? Would plural be rhinoceroses? It didn¡¯t sound quite right to him, perhaps he¡¯d just call them unicorns for now.
After this sighting there was a stretch with nothing of particular interest to note, and Pryce was getting a bit saddle sore though he did not wish to voice any complaints. As it was, he had plenty of time to think to himself, and he realized how difficult it would be to establish an outpost on this island without the help of dragons, especially when the nearly-invisible raptors were just the beginning of the issues that they would face. They could get it done eventually, but it would take many lives and years before the island would be safe, and that was if ecological damage wasn¡¯t a concern.
This line of thinking led him to wonder what would have happened if the crew had made it safely to the island. Would Fathom have approached them with so many humans milling about? It would have been more difficult, but Pryce was sure the dragon could have figured out some way to communicate non-hostile intent. This wasn''t the first time Pryce imagined a future where all the crew got to know Fathom, where he had made friends with more humans than just Pryce. But these thoughts only lasted for a moment, and he shook them off with practiced ease. Dwelling on what-ifs was pointless, especially when considering the sort of history he would be making today.
¡°How much longer until we arrive?¡± Pryce called out. They were flying in another mountainous region, and a sizable river coursed below them, and the ocean was easily visible, making this an ideal location to live in Pryce¡¯s estimate. ¡°Fathom?¡± He tried shouting louder this time, but the dragon¡¯s body only stiffened underneath him without answering.
¡°We are near the place she is supposed to be living at,¡± Fathom said, his uncertainty reverberating through Pryce from his position at the base of his neck. ¡°I¡¯m going to roar now,¡± he said, and that was all the warning he gave before he took a deep breath and belted out a roar.
Fathom might have dictated a few words through the roar, but Pryce could not hear them past the sheer force of the noise; the sound was deafening even from his position behind the dragon¡¯s head and with his hands clapped over his ears.
¡°You could have given me more warning,¡± Pryce called, ears ringing and a little annoyed.
¡°Why? Just hear less ¨C oh,¡± Fathom did not turn his head around, but his spines did twitch with an embarrassed air. ¡°Can you not hear less if you want?¡±
¡°No, we can¡¯t,¡± Pryce said, shaking his head as the ringing refused to completely go away. Those flexible ear-membranes were certainly useful, especially if they kept dragons from deafening themselves every time they roared.
¡°That is inconvenient, but I guess if you can¡¯t roar then you don¡¯t need to be able to do this,¡± Fathom mused as he flicked his spines.
¡°Well, lots of humans lose the ability to hear when they get old, so something like that would be very useful.¡±
Fathom turned his head to glance at Pryce, clearly about to express his surprise when he froze halfway. Pryce followed the dragon¡¯s line of sight, and within a few seconds of scanning he located a dot in the skies winging towards them.
¡°Cover your ears,¡± Fathom warned again, this time giving Pryce plenty of time to cover his ears. This second roar was shorter and much weaker in intensity, though Pryce wasn¡¯t sure if this was done out of protocol or consideration.
He cautiously uncovered his ears, and a few seconds later the other dragon ¨C who was close enough to be identified as a deep shade of blue ¨C returned the roar. Wordlessly, Fathom angled downwards and gently spiraled onto the ground.
The other dragon slowly mirrored his descent, though they retained their advantageous higher position for the entire duration of the maneuver.
Fathom landed a little roughly, jarring Pryce. He hadn¡¯t completely recovered his lost stamina yet, and his wings and chest burned from the long flight, but none of that bothered him as he stared upwards at the dragon who he should have been able to recognize.
Even contracting his pupils didn¡¯t help much, as she ¨C the dragon was obviously female ¨C kept the sun at her back, and all he could see was the silhouette of the cautious dragon.
¡°Is that Celeste?¡± Pryce asked, still sitting at the base of his neck.
¡°...I¡think so,¡± Fathom whispered anxiously back to Pryce as the other dragon quickly descended, landing rather roughly. She was healthy and strong, with shimmering deep blue scales much like his own had been ¨C perhaps even a little richer in color, though he would have never admitted this if he did not recognize her orange-red eyes.
?Who are you? And what is that thing on your neck?!? She demanded incredulously, breaking Fathom out of his reverie. Her eyes darted between him and his passenger, clearly baffled by what she saw.
Fathom ignored these questions. The cadence of her voice was all the confirmation he needed.
?...You have grown much,? Fathom said, wincing internally as the words came out far more nervously than he would have liked.
?I have grown? How would you¡you are¡? She trailed off, her eyes widening as she stiffened. ?Father?? She spoke cautiously and approached with slow, wary steps.
?Yes,? Fathom said, his voice a touch rougher than normal. ?It¡has been many years, Ahnoumh.?
?But your scales ¨C your wing!? Celeste blurted, tail lashing in disbelief just before she nearly dashed forward to close the remaining distance in a blink. He felt Pryce tense up at the sudden movement, but then the human relaxed, having understood enough of their speech to know who she was.
?Yes, my wing is healed,? Fathom said, holding the appendage out to the side so that his daughter could see it clearly.
Her gaze darted from wing, to bag, to chains, and finally to the strange creature on the base of his neck. ?How¡? What is¡?? She stammered incoherently.
?Yes, I have much to explain,? Fathom said, smiling as he sat down. ?But first, this is my friend, Pryce.?
Pryce waved a little awkwardly as Fathom introduced him. ¡°Hello,¡± he said, sounding a little less confident than usual.
?He said hello, and he can understand some of what you say if you use simple words,? Fathom translated, ignoring the human¡¯s inexplicable actions.
?He can understand us? What is he? Why is he your friend? And what is this?? Celeste asked in rapid succession, gesturing at the manmade objects that Fathom carried.
?You still ask so many questions,? Fathom chuckled as he experienced a sudden wave of nostalgia. ?Yes, he can understand us, and he is a human, these are things that other humans have made,? he answered, gesturing to the man-made objects he carried.
Celeste stared blankly, then tossed her head in frustration. ?You know that just gives me more questions,? she huffed plaintively, though her narrowed eyes belied her amusement.
?Yes, I know how you feel, do not worry, I will explain¨C?
¡°Maybe it will be easier to explain everything when we meet the other dragons she is living with, that way we don¡¯t have to explain everything twice,¡± Pryce interrupted to suggest. ¡°Or we could stay here for a bit if you want to talk to her first,¡± he added, seeing Fathom hesitate.
Fathom had indeed wanted to talk to Celeste alone ¨C from other dragons at least ¨C but it would be much simpler to only explain everything once, at least for the near future.
?Can you understand that? He speaks with such strange sounds,? Celeste noted as she eyed the foreign creature dubiously.
¡°She¡¯s insulting me, isn¡¯t she?¡± Pryce asked drily.
¡°A little bit, yes,¡± Fathom admitted. Turning to Celeste ¨C who was shocked to hear her father speak in the human¡¯s language ¨C he asked, ?You are living with Ghorrah-? and Jooral-?, right? Pryce said that it is better if we explain everything when you are all together, so that we do not have to explain everything twice.?
Celeste tilted her head, and seemed to consider this for a few moments. ?That is a good idea. Did you bring any gifts for them?? Celeste asked tentatively.
?Yes, Pryce thought it was a good idea to bring some gifts made by humans. He convinced me to bring some as well,? Fathom added with not a small amount of reluctance.
?Well then, perhaps he is smarter than he looks,? Celeste said, eyeing Pryce appraisingly before distancing herself in preparation for flight. ?Follow me, Jooral and Ghorrah are only two hands away.?
A ¡®hand¡¯ was a perplexing unit of measurement, but Pryce realized it was probably short for five beats, or roughly one minute. This guess was validated when they began to descend approximately two minutes later to land against a mountainside pocketed with cave entrances of various sizes.
Near a particularly large cave entrance sat two female dragons, their pale, vaguely milky grey hide rendering them rather difficult to see against the craggy mountainside. The two dragons were similarly sized and larger than Celeste ¨C not by much, but on the scale of dragons a slight increase in size resulted in a significant increase in mass.
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Even from this distance Pryce could tell which one was Jooral, marked as she was by the appalling angle at which her wing was bent. Seeing the injury firsthand, he couldn¡¯t help but feel a twinge of sympathy for the old dragon; flying was completely out of the question with an injury like that.
Both females watched their descent with a wary eye, and Pryce blinked in surprise when he caught a glimmer of sunlight reflected by something upon the horns of the two dragons. As Fathom got closer, Pryce was shocked to see that their horns were adorned by a thin band of gold.
?Hello, my name is-? Fathom called out as he landed.
?Who is this?? The unmarked dragon ¨C who must have been Ghorrah ¨C demanded, cutting Fathom off. Her nictitating membranes slid over her golden eyes as she bared her teeth and interposed herself between Fathom and Jooral.
?What is that?? Jooral asked interestedly, staring past Fathom to peer directly at Pryce. Her irises were a brightly colored orange-yellow, much like the color of a sunset that was neither late nor early.
?This is my father!? Celeste said hastily, stepping between the two before things escalated too far.
This did not seem to placate the aggressive female ¨C if anything she became more agitated, while Jooral didn¡¯t seem particularly pleased either as she redirected her gaze from Pryce to Fathom.
When this didn¡¯t work Celeste hissed in rapid-fire speech that Pryce couldn¡¯t understand. Ghorrah didn¡¯t back down at all, at least until Jooral said something in what sounded like reproachful tones. Even pacified, she still appeared somewhat agitated, and she didn¡¯t take her eyes off of Fathom for an instant.
?Is no one going to answer my question?? Jooral asked in a casually plaintive tone, breaking some of the tension.
Fathom relaxed a little, glancing back at Pryce for a split-second before returning his attention to Ghorrah. Her hostility baffled Pryce ¨C Fathom had told him that he had never met Ghorrah before, so there was no reason to be so confrontational¡unless this was normal for dragons?
?This is my friend,? Fathom said, almost hissing his words as he glared at the aggressive female, ?He is a creature called a human who came from another land very far away,? he said smugly, knowing the reaction that this would produce.
A moment of stunned silence, then pandemonium.
?How?? Jooral demanded, the first intelligible thing Pryce heard with his ringing ears.
?The humans used big metal shells that float on water to come here, but Pryce was the only survivor,? Fathom explained.
?Metal shells? How did they move the shells?? Jooral immediately asked, apparently quite interested in continuing this line of questioning.
?How did they get so much metal?? Ghorrah asked skeptically.
?Their land has a lot of metal, that¡¯s how they made this,? Fathom said, gesturing to his iron chain-sashes. This was certainly a strong argument, judging by the way the three females stared intensely at the polished steel chain links. ?The metal shells are called ships, and the ship has things that are like wings which catch the wind. Pryce said the ship uses fire to push water, though I do not know how this is done,? Fathom admitted.
?I did not know metal could be so shiny, and be so beautiful,? Ghorrah admitted begrudgingly.
?This is¡a metal rope? Yes, metal cannot bend, so they made it into these shapes¡that is very clever,? Jooral marveled, looking at Pryce with something resembling respect.
?How many hue¡humans were in the shell?? Celeste blurted out, having patiently waited for her turn to speak.
?Forty.?
?Thirty-nine humans all died?? Celeste asked, eyes wide.
?They¡got sick,? Fathom said, glancing back at Pryce.
¡°It¡¯s fine, you can talk about it,¡± Pryce sighed.
?Is he talking?? Ghorrah asked incredulously, drawing her head back while Jooral peered forth with palpable interest.
?Yes, he was just telling me that it is fine if we talk about it; humans have many friends, and he was very distressed when the other humans died,? Fathom explained.
?That is not surprising, it makes sense that if these humans can make things like this, then they are smart enough to talk,? Jooral said gesturing to the metal chains. ?Can the two of you understand each other??
?Yes, their language is a little complicated, but Pryce started teaching me fifty-one days ago, and now I can almost talk as well as a human. They cannot hear or make all of the sounds we can, so it is hard for him to learn to speak like us, but he can understand some of our words.?
?He can understand me?? Ghorrah asked as she peered at Pryce, who bemused her by giving her a thumbs up. Ghorrah snorted in amusement when Fathom explained what the gesture meant. ?I do not think anyone was expecting the Far Land to have creatures like this on it.?
?They are not from the Far Land, they are from an island even further away,? Fathom clarified, surprising all the other dragons. ¡°Pryce, can you bring out the globe? They are asking about where humans come from,¡± Fathom asked, sitting down and leaning over so that Pryce could dismount without having to fall too far.
¡°Yes, give me a minute,¡± Pryce said, unbuckling himself and landing clumsily, the saddle-soreness in his legs making him stumble.
?I have never seen a creature with so little fur. Even those with hide have at least some,? Celeste noted. ?That thing around him is not his skin, is it?? Celeste asked dubiously.
?No, human skin is soft and weak, so they wear things made from plants or animal skin,? Fathom explained.
?He must have done a lot of things to it, I have never seen a plant look like that,? Jooral said, her pupils shifting as she inspected Pryce¡¯s clothing.
¡°Here,¡± Pryce said, lifting the globe up. He tried not to balk as three interested heads loomed over him to inspect the strange human creation.
?This is called a globe, it looks like the world if you made it very small. The land Pryce is pointing at is where humans are from ¨C Pryce, show them this island ¨C now he is pointing at our land.?
?What is this thing made out of? It is so colorful, and detailed,? Jooral marveled. ?And is this our land? Is the ocean that big?? Jooral asked thoughtfully. ?This ¡®gl¡obe¡¯ is also very interesting, and it spins so easily.?
?How do humans know this?? Ghorrah asked, again the one to express skepticism.
Fathom translated this question and waited for Pryce to rummage through the backpack. They had already agreed on what things to show them, so he was not surprised when Pryce retrieved the camera and walked twenty steps back to take a picture of all the dragons together.
?What is he doing?? Celeste asked, but Fathom only gestured for her to wait.
Pryce soon held up the freshly printed photo, and the three dragons froze at the sight.
?Is that¡us?? Ghorrah asked uncertainly. ?It looks like us, but¡we do not have our markings.?
?Fascinating, I have never seen anything like this under the Sun,? Jooral said, visibly impressed as she and Celeste stared holes into the photograph.
Pryce held out the picture, and Jooral deftly snatched it up between two talontips before he could so much as blink. The human stared at his empty hands and took an involuntary step back a fraction of a second after the photograph disappeared from his hand. He checked his hands for scratches, and finding none he retreated to Fathom¡¯s side, a little perturbed by the speed and precision exhibited by Jooral.
?Oh, I am sorry, Prh¡Pryce, that was rude of me,? Jooral said sheepishly once Ghorrah pointedly nudged her in the side. She reluctantly held the photo out to Pryce, who accepted it warily.
¡°She said she is sorry,¡± Fathom translated, surprised at the ease with which the apology was given.
¡°Apology accepted, I was just surprised,¡± Pryce said, which Fathom translated. ¡°Also please tell her to ask first, next time,¡± he added a little plaintively.
?Have you asked him how he can make this, and so quickly?? Jooral asked Fathom.
?Yes, but it is complicated. This is a photograph, and the thing that made it is a camera. The camera works by using materials that change color when light hits it, which makes the photograph have the same thing as what the camera saw.?
?I¡think I understand, but I have never seen any material that does that,? Jooral said, sounding a little frustrated. ?I would like to learn more about these humans. It seems they are very smart, even if their heads are very small.?
?I doubt he is smarter than you,? Ghorrah snorted loyally while Fathom translated for Pryce.
?Yes, my wings, but I cannot make any of these,? Jooral said, bumping her neck affectionately against Ghorrah, who leaned into her despite grumbling in discontentment.
Pryce took the brief moment of silence to look at the golden bands. He was dying to ask how she made those, but now didn¡¯t quite seem like the right time. Fathom had told him that she could make clay wares, but perhaps hers were more sophisticated than he expected.
Deciding to focus on leaving a better impression, Pryce rummaged through the bag for his gift to them. The dragons watched curiously as Pryce extracted several crystals and shiny things Fathom had reluctantly donated, along with a ball of cloth which he unwrapped to reveal a twenty-liter glass jug that he had filled with alcohol. The amber-brown liquid gave the glass a gemlike quality, and it shimmered attractively as the sunlight refracted off of its contents.
¡°Fathom, you¡¯re supposed to explain this part,¡± Pryce whispered pointedly, breaking an awkward silence as the four dragons stared at him ¨C or rather the prize that he held.
¡°Oh, right,¡± Fathom muttered apologetically as he broke his gaze away from the gift. ?Pryce said he would like to give you this glass container filled with alcohol as a gift, to thank you for allowing us to stay in your territory, and for letting my daughter live in your home,? he explained with audible reluctance.
?We accept, but why is the human giving us a gift because we helped your daughter?? Ghorrah asked, flattening her spines in confusion. ?This alcohol is so¡clear, like colored water, and this glass is far more beautiful than any I have ever seen.?
?More beautiful than the glass I make?? Jooral asked with feigned indignation, and chortled when Ghorrah stammered for a response.
?I told him that, but he said he would give it to me so I could give it to you, and he said that it was polite for humans to give gifts when someone helps a relative,? Fathom shrugged, ignoring their antics.
?I suppose there is no reason to not accept,? Ghorrah said stiffly, offended by Jooral¡¯s joke.
?Yes, you should have started with that. I am curious to taste what alcohol made so far away tastes like, and by one who is not a dragon,? Jooral marveled as she carefully accepted the gift, ignoring the daggers Ghorrah glared at her with perfect grace.
?Where can we sleep?? Fathom asked a few minutes later, mostly on Pryce¡¯s insistence. The dragon had flown for far longer than he had practiced since his recovery, and Pryce wanted to make sure he would get a proper amount of rest.
?You can sleep in a nearby cave,? Ghorrah said somewhat more amiably, the taste of the refined alcohol having softened her prickly demeanor.
?Ahnoumh can show you, she knows where it is,? Jooral added, with even more cheer than usual.
Celeste nodded, and leapt into the air once Pryce had secured himself onto Fathom''s neck. It took only a few minutes of flight to reach this cave where neither dragon said anything until she slowed to a stop, hovering in place.
?Here¡¯s the cave. If you need water, there is a river a few beats north,? she called out, hovering in place over a visible cave entrance.
?Thank you, Ahnoumh,? Fathom said gratefully, ?Do you want to go-?
But she was already flying away.
?-hunting,¡± Fathom finished dejectedly, and landed on the mountainside in a subdued manner.
¡°I''m sure she didn''t mean anything bad by it,¡± Pryce said once they had landed.
"Don''t lie," Fathom snorted irritably. "She didn''t ask anything about me, and look how quickly she left. It''s obvious that she hates me."
"She looked happy when she realized it was you," Pryce countered.
"That...is true," Fathom sighed, flattening himself against the ground so that Pryce could dismount with less difficulty. "But why would she leave so quickly? Why didn''t she ask me anything?" He asked, looking forlornly at the retreating figure in the sky.
"Maybe she didn''t know what to say," Pryce suggested a little uncertainly. As someone who had never had children, he felt a little out of his depth to be giving parental advice. "Next time you see her, just ask her what''s wrong."
"I can''t just ask that," Fathom groused.
"Why not?"
"Because...because I..." Fathom sighed, lowering his head.
"...You didn¡¯t ask her many questions either, are you afraid to know if she doesn¡¯t like you?"
Fathom hesitated, then nodded weakly.
"So maybe she feels the same way. Knowing things won''t change the truth, if you need to know, wouldn''t it be better if you ask sooner rather than later?"
"I...I don''t know," Fathom said, turning away.
"I know this isn''t an easy decision to make, but I think you should ask her tomorrow," Pryce said, following Fathom into the cave.
"I will...think about it," Fathom said, curling up to go to sleep.
¡°Weren¡¯t you going to go hunting? I thought you were hungry?¡± Pryce asked, confused.
¡°I wasn¡¯t hungry,¡± Fathom mumbled beneath a wing. ¡°Goodnight, Pryce."
"...Goodnight, Fathom."
[JOURNAL ENTRY]
Day 80,
Today went well, all things considered.
Ghorrah was initially hostile to Fathom, though Celeste and Jooral convinced her to stand down. No one was hurt, so I¡¯ll consider that a victory.
I was quite taken aback to see that Jooral and Ghorrah wore jewelry ¨C a single band of gold adorned Jooral¡¯s right horn, while Ghorrah had a matching pair on her left horn. I wasn¡¯t able to ask how she made it, but she must be able to make clay crucibles. I¡¯m fairly certain that well-made terracotta can stand up to gold¡¯s melting point, so it should be doable.
The meeting itself went about as well as could be hoped, but I underestimated how overwhelming it is to be asked questions by three dragons at once. At least the gifts were received very well, even if they seemed to think it was a shame to drink something so beautiful.
The two older dragons seem to treat Celeste well; they even shared with her some of the alcohol I gifted them. I¡¯m not sure if Fathom is particularly possessive or they''re particularly generous, though I¡¯m leaning towards the latter. Come to think of it, I¡¯m not sure why they allowed Celeste to live with them. It doesn¡¯t quite fit with what Fathom told me about other dragons. They didn¡¯t seem particularly territorial, or at least Jooral wasn¡¯t, but perhaps that can be attributed to their age.
First impressions:
¨C Ghorrah is a bit prickly and suspicious, though I can¡¯t say I blame her given the circumstances.
¨C Jooral was nearly the opposite of Ghorrah, she was quite friendly and expressed even more interest in human inventions than Celeste, though I think this might have been because Celeste was showing deference to the two older females.
¨C Celeste seems just as curious as Fathom, though she seemed oddly reserved at times. I imagine she has some many things she wishes to discuss with Fathom, hopefully they can get that resolved soon.
For now, Jooral and Ghorrah have allowed Fathom and me to sleep in a cave a short distance away from their own. I wonder if these caves are man made ¨C or dragon made, I suppose. I¡¯m no geologist, but there seem to be an awful lot of them around, too many to be completely natural. I should ask Fathom about this.
It¡¯s good to see that Celeste and Jooral are both interested in humans and our inventions; future discussions have become much more promising.
Chapter 44, Day 81: Weight of Words
Pryce blinked as he woke, and rubbed the sleep from his eyes as he sat up ¨C only to see a dragon posed over him, two blue lizards held in her jaws.
"Celeste?" Pryce whispered involuntarily. He was still half-asleep, and only remembered a second later that she wouldn''t recognize that name.
The young dragon froze, a guilty expression in her eyes as she glanced at her still-slumbering father.
When neither of them moved, she silently set the lizards onto the ground, then clamped a talon around her jaws in what was unmistakably a gesture to stay silent.
Pryce nodded hesitantly, mimicking the gesture over the empty space in front of his mouth.
She nodded back, then crept away, incredibly silent for a creature her size. A few minutes later Pryce saw her fly away. She must have landed some distance away in order to not disturb either of them.
It was very early in the morning, the sky still quite dark, and the stars ¨C oh. He¡¯d forgotten to measure his latitude last night. Pryce quietly extracted himself from the sleeping bag and crept past Fathom to retrieve the sextant.
In less than a minute he determined his latitude to be 16.80 ¡À 0.05¡ã North.
Pryce had to wait half an hour for the radio signal to arrive at 6:28:46 AM (which was followed by the same old morse mode message) to obtain his longitude 82.8083¡ã West.
It had been 81 days since the chronometer was last calibrated, so its uncertainty was still a rather negligible 27 seconds, resulting in an uncertainty of ¡À 0.0075¡ã West.
Out of curiosity he calculated the distance they traveled, which turned out to be about 155 kilometers. That meant Fathom flew at around 40 km/hr, a respectable pace.
Satisfied, Pryce walked past Fathom ¨C who was still sleeping ¨C and the blue lizards. He settled back into his sleeping bag and dozed off with a smile on his face.
"Good morning," Fathom yawned as he rose with a catlike stretch.
"Good morning," Pryce replied through a mouthful of his canned breakfast.
Fathom looked down and was surprised to see the two lizards. ¡°How did you hunt two blue lizards? And I told you that I can hunt for my own food now.¡± He sounded a little impressed, despite his consternation.
¡°I didn''t hunt those,¡± Pryce said, ¡°they were here when I woke up.¡±
It was technically true.
"What?¡± Fathom asked, alarmed. ¡°How did I not wake up? You didn''t see who left them here?"
¡°No,¡± Pryce shrugged, ¡°but it probably wasn''t Ghorrah or Jooral.¡±
¡°Who are-¡± Fathom squinted, confused by Pryce¡¯s poor pronunciation. ¡°Oh, right, I don''t think it was them, but that means-¡±
Fathom stopped in his tracks and stared silently at the lizards, an indecipherable expression on his face.
¡°I told you, she''s not mad at you,¡± Pryce said.
¡°But what if she thinks I look terrible, and is giving me blue lizards so I don''t embarrass her?¡± Fathom hissed as Pryce tossed a pebble at him. ¡°What?¡±
¡°Stop being ridiculous and eat the lizards, then you can go ask her yourself,¡± Pryce admonished, rolling his eyes. He couldn''t say anything without giving himself away, but he was certain there was no harm in discouraging this outlandish interpretation.
?What do you want?? Ghorra growled as Fathom landed nearby. He knew kicking up a cloud of dust like this was a breach of draconic etiquette, but his mind was so preoccupied that he couldn¡¯t quite bring himself to care.
?Where is Ahnoumh? I need to talk to her,? Fathom demanded.
Jooral paid him no mind, and only glanced at Pryce, but shortly returned her attention to the somewhat humanoid chunk of wood she was carving.
?Why?? Ghorrah asked, completely unmoved by Fathom''s adamant request.
?What do you mean ''why''?? Fathom bristled. ?I want to talk to my daughter.?
Ghorrah did not respond, and Fathom was about to repeat himself when she said in a stern tone, ?We met her when she was six, you know.?
?Yes¡of course I know that,? Fathom hissed, confused as to why she was mentioning this.
?She has been very helpful with hunting and patrolling,? Jooral added, a note of affection in her voice. ?She is almost like a¡daughter to us.?
Fathom¡¯s spines twitched with uncertainty and anger, but calmed a little at Pryce¡¯s restraining touch. ?That may be true, but she is not your daughter, she is mine, and I want to talk to her,? he said in steady, measured tones.
?What we are saying,? Ghorrah said, raising her head austerely, ?is that we care for her, and when we first met her she was...not well. I will not say more; that is her business to tell you, but what we want to tell you is that she is important to us, and what we know is that intentionally or not you caused her great pain.?
Fathom flinched as if he were struck, and Pryce shifted uncomfortably on his neck; the words used in this conversation were far beyond his meager vocabulary.
?I will not pretend I have a good opinion of you, but I can tell you care for her,? Ghorrah admitted before rising up to her full height, and stared down at Fathom. ?What we are trying to say is that if you harm her further, I will hunt you down,? she said, her casual tone was incongruous against the threat that it carried. ?Is there anything else you would like to add, Jooral??
Fathom resisted the urge to withdraw in face of her unconcealed animosity, and broke eye contact to glance at Jooral, who had paused in her carving.
?No, you summed it up quite well, my wings,? Jooral said, staring intently at Fathom for the first time in their short acquaintance.
?I know I have¡failed her,? Fathom admitted through gritted teeth, ?but I would never act to hurt her,?he growled, not backing down from either of the larger dragons.
?Then we have no problem, yes?? Jooral said casually, breaking some of the tension in the air.
?Her home is north-west from here, just follow the mountainside,? Ghorrah said, sitting back down but not quite relaxing. ?Do not forget what I have said.?
Fathom took a few cautious steps back, then nodded before retreating to a proper distance and taking flight.
"Did it go well? I think she gave you directions at the end," Pryce asked, a note of concern in his voice. It must have been alarming to not understand certain parts of that conversation, Fathom thought.
?Well enough,? he grunted, subdued.
It didn¡¯t take long to find the cave; it was just where Ghorrah had said it was. Fathom landed a safe distance away, unsure of why she hadn¡¯t come out yet. Surely she heard his approach, did she not want to talk to him?
Pryce dismounted before he could voice any concerns, and Fathom hesitated no longer. They were just about to enter when the scrabbling of hurried footsteps echoed out the caverns before Celeste herself stumbled out; she had clearly just woken up.
?Hello Ahnoumh,? Fathom said reflexively. ?...Are you well? It is¡not very early,? Fathom said, surprised that she was still sleeping.
?Yes, I am well,? Celeste said, somewhat drowsily and looking uncertain. ?I¡had things to do last night, so I did not sleep very much,? she added to justify her condition.
?Good, good,? Fathom said awkwardly. ?...someone left two blue lizards in our cave when Pryce and I were both sleeping, was that you??
Her eyes flicked to Pryce so quickly that he almost missed it. ?Yes, I had thought you would be hungry, and I did not want to wake either of you.?
?They were very good, thank you,? Fathom said, wincing internally at how stilted the conversation was. Pryce nudged Fathom¡¯s neck pointedly, grunting in annoyance.
Fathom flicked his spines in irritation, but steeled himself as he looked his daughter in the eyes.
?About what happened all those years ago¡I am sorry, for failing to protect you.?
Celeste''s eyes widened dramatically, surprised by this sudden apology. ?...I am the one who should be sorry, for being a burden, I mean,? she said, lowering her head.
?Raptor shit!? Fathom hissed vehemently. He continued when she only blinked in shock, ?You were only six years old; there was nothing you could have done. You were never a burden.? With each word, his voice thickened with emotion, until it nearly cracked. ?Why did you ever think otherwise??
?But that day you told me to leave, you were hurt, and you said¡? She trailed off, then tossed her head. ?I thought you meant that I was the reason you were getting hurt.?
?No, never,? Fathom growled vehemently. ?It was just ¨C in my mind it was obvious that the failure was mine. I am sorry I ever made you think otherwise.?
Her eyes, red like his, glimmered wetly, even as his own vision began to blur. She moved to embrace him, and he hesitated for a moment before returning the gesture, wrapping his wings around her.
?I forgive you,? she muttered into his shoulder.
?I...have not made amends yet,? Fathom rasped.
?None are needed.?
?I¡do not think I deserve this,? he protested weakly.
?I do not care.?
?So stubborn,? Fathom sighed.
?Well¡half of me did come from you,? Celeste retorted, though she rumbled happily as she said so, the vibrations resonating through Fathom¡¯s body.
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?That is¡true,? he said, slow and uncertain. He wasn¡¯t quite sure what to say, but eventually he allowed himself to respond in kind.
Pryce watched the parent and child reconcile, stepping away to give them some privacy ¨C not because he had to dry his eyes, of course.
He stood just outside the cave while the dragons talked ¨C a polite fiction. He couldn''t go very far away; that would be dangerous, and dragons spoke so loudly that it was impossible to not overhear, and it was only their language that provided them any degree of privacy. They talked for quite some time about personal things, most of which Pryce couldn¡¯t comprehend, but it was obvious they were speaking on good terms.
?I should have gone to see you years ago, I feel a little ridiculous for worrying so much now that we have actually talked,? Celeste said, laughing half-heartedly at her own expense.
?Yes, I''m sorry I did not try to see you earlier...I thought you were disappointed in me,? Fathom said, ducking his head a little shamefully.
?So did I.? Celeste shrugged her wings weakly. ?We have both made misjudgements.?
?Yes...I should thank Pryce,? Fathom said, turning around to see the human re-enter the cave. "When did you leave?? Fathom asked, blinking in surprise.
"Early on, I thought you two needed to be alone," Pryce said.
"But you can¡¯t understand much Draconic, and you were standing close enough to hear us anyway,¡± Fathom pointed out.
¡°It¡¯s polite for humans to pretend that you don¡¯t hear something you¡¯re not supposed to,¡± Pryce shrugged.
¡°That is strange¡but I wanted to thank you for your advice," Fathom said, his gratitude delivered with only a little reluctance.
"And...?" Pryce smirked.
"...And you were right," Fathom grumbled, sighing dramatically.
"You¡¯re very welcome," Pryce smiled, tilting his head cordially.
?Why are you thanking him?? Celeste asked once Fathom had translated their exchange. She still seemed a little bemused by her father speaking in the strange human tongue.
?He pestered me to ask you about¡what we just talked about. Both last night and this morning,? Fathom explained with mock exasperation that made Pryce suspicious.
?I see,? Celeste said thoughtfully. ?Can you tell him I said thank you as well?? She asked, giving Pryce a knowing look as Fathom relayed her words.
"Tell her that she''s welcome," Pryce said, and he made a clamping gesture over his mouth when Fathom looked away.
?Do you want to go hunting together?? Celeste asked Fathom when he finished translating for Pryce.
?Of course, I will be glad to hunt with you again, but didn''t you hunt this morning?? Fathom asked.
?I...only caught two lizards,? Celeste admitted.
Fathom blinked, belatedly warmed by the full extent of the gesture. ?In that case, I need to catch more for you,? he resolved.
?If I don''t catch them myself,? Celeste taunted, flaring her wings.
"We are going hunting, do you want to come with us?" Fathom asked Pryce.
"I guess it will be safer than being alone," Pryce sighed, climbing aboard with Fathom''s help.
Fathom and Celeste landed by a river a quarter of an hour later, their jaws covered in gore.
"Do you want to go down?" Fathom asked Pryce.
"Yes, please," Pryce wheezed, unbuckling the carabiners as Fathom knelt down. The human gingerly stepped into the palm of Fathom¡¯s proffered hand and was lowered onto the ground, his knees almost buckling as he stumbled away to lean against a tree. "That was a bit much," He breathed.
"I was the one who was hunting, why are you tired?¡± Fathom asked, confused.
¡°Humans aren¡¯t supposed to fly like that, and I was holding on tightly, okay?¡± Pryce groaned, flexing his stiff fingers.
¡°Why didn¡¯t you say anything if you were in pain?¡± Fathom asked, annoyed.
Pryce shrugged weakly. ¡°I don¡¯t like to complain.¡±
Tossing his head in exasperation, Fathom waded into the river and left Pryce to his recuperation.
?I could have hunted two if Pryce was not on my neck,? Fathom snorted as he turned to Celeste, who had already cleaned most of the blood from her maw. She had quickly caught and eaten two mammalian herbivores with oddly claw-like limbs, and Fathom had caught a third once he began to fly at a rate that Pryce wasn¡¯t quite comfortable with.
?I thought you taught me to not make excuses,? Celeste said innocently.
?That was a reason, not an excuse!? Fathom protested.
?Oh, very well,? Celeste sighed, as if conceding an important point. ?We can have a real competition later, when you have no exc ¨C I mean, no reason for losing.?
Fathom snorted, outwardly dismissing her snark though he was proud of how proficient of a hunter she had become. ?Enjoy the victory while you can, a real competition will have to wait until I can leave Pryce somewhere safe.?
?You can trust Jooral and Ghorrah,? Celeste reassured, though Fathom did not seem very convinced.
?Maybe once they can understand Pryce''s speech,? he said hesitantly.
Celeste tilted her head and widened her eyes a little, looking as if she remembered something important. ?That reminds me, why did humans try to come here?? she asked, glancing at Pryce who was stretching.
?That is complicated,? Fathom sighed, ?we should explain with all three of you together.?
?Hello, Ahnoumh...Huroumh,? Ghorrah said reservedly upon their landing.
?Hello Ghorrah!? Celeste replied as she nudged the older dragon affectionately, her tailtip lashing happily as she did so.
Fathom made his much less enthusiastic greeting, though he was privately gladdened to see his daughter so much less reserved.
?Where is Jooral?? Celeste asked.
?Collecting materials, like always,? Ghorrah shrugged. ?Things...went well?? She asked Celeste while staring at Fathom.
?Yes, very well, we talked a lot,? Celeste answered. ?I told you he is not a bad father,? she added proudly.
?If you say so,? Ghorrah huffed. ?Why are you all here??
?We were going to tell you more about humans, but it seems we should wait for Jooral to return,? Fathom said.
?Yes, the human,? Ghorrah said, peering at Pryce. ?I do have many questions, but I will wait for her to return.?
They sat and waited for a few moments until Celeste decided to sun herself, and the others followed suit.
A few minutes later Jooral returned, hobbling as she carried what looked to be a dragon-sized clay cup, much to Pryce¡¯s amazement. ?It seems like things went well,? she noted.
?Yes,? Celeste confirmed.
?We were going to ask the human more questions," Ghorrah said.
Pryce watched with great interest as Jooral set the cup down, then covered it with a wooden lid. He was dying to ask about that, but it seemed prudent to answer any questions the dragons had first.
?Well, I am here now. I think we should ask questions in order, our conversation yesterday was¡messy,? Jooral suggested, to which the others nodded their heads in agreement.
?You can go first, since you''re so interested in them,? Ghorrah said.
?Thank you, my wings,? Jooral said cheerfully before turning to Pryce. ?How do you know what our lands look like??
Pryce showed them the satellite imagery, and through Fathom as an intermediary, explained the concept of rockets, and how they put a camera onto a rocket to take pictures from very high up. He felt almost like he was giving lectures again, save for the slight difference that his class consisted of three interested dragons. At least none of them were napping, he thought with some amusement.
?I do not truly understand how the rockets work, but it makes sense that these photographs were made by making cameras fly up,? Jooral said, dissatisfied that they could not explain the workings of a rocket to her satisfaction. In the end, Pryce had to explain many other concepts, such as distance, temperature, and thermal expansion. She surprised Pryce by crooning triumphantly to Ghorrah when Pryce explained the last one, as it was something she always suspected but could not prove.
?Just because he says it does not mean it is true,? Ghorrah grumbled. ?If warm air goes up, then why does it get colder the higher you fly??
?Pryce proved it to me,? Fathom said, and explained the experiments he had seen.
?Well¡just because it is true does not mean that it is important,? Ghorrah said irritably. ?What I wanted to ask is why did humans try to come here? Do you want our land??
"We wanted to come here because we wanted more land and metals," Pryce admitted. "But we didn''t know other intelligent animals existed. We did not come here to take things from you, of course.¡±
Jooral shrugged half-heartedly. ?Well, at least he seems to be honest.?
Ghorrah rumbled skeptically. ?That does not answer why you and Huroumh are here.?
?This is your fourth question, I thought it was my turn,? Celeste mumbled petulantly.
Pryce gave her an apologetic shrug. "We are here because I need help; more humans are coming in another ship to rescue me in 19 days. We know where they want to be, but they might end up somewhere else. I need dragons to help me find this ship so I can tell them about dragons."
?How do you know when this ship will be here?? Ghorrah asked suspiciously.
"This is very complicated, I can tell you more tomorrow, Celeste still has a question," Pryce said, glancing at the sun in the sky. It was probably around four or five o¡¯clock, so there wasn¡¯t much daylight left for the day.
Jooral looked interested upon hearing Fathom translate the word ''complicated'', and Ghorrah also looked like she wanted to ask more, but they both held their tongues to let Celeste speak.
?...your land is much bigger than ours, how many humans are there?? Celeste asked curiously.
Pryce explained the concept of a million.
?What does that have to do with the number of humans?? Ghorrah asked, confused, while Celeste and Jooral widened their eyes in surprise as they understood the implications.
?There are not millions of humans, are there?? Celeste asked warily.
"There are indeed fifty million humans on that island,? Fathom confirmed, answering for Pryce. ?I felt the same way,? he added candidly after the most vocal of their reactions had passed.
?And you all want to come here?? Ghorrah demanded.
"No, no, only a few of us wanted to come here, we wanted to see what this land was like first before we tried to do anything."
?That makes sense, we would want to know what a new island is like too,? Jooral said reasonably. ?But fifty thousand thousand humans...that is so many. I wonder how big a pile of fifty thousand thousand grains of sand would be?? Fathom translated with a curious look at Pryce, clearly wondering the same thing.
¡°That depends a lot on the size of the grains of sand, but 50 million grains of sand is probably less than what can fit in that glass of alcohol I gave you,¡± Pryce shrugged.
?I¡was not expecting that question to be answered, how do you know that?? Jooral said.
Pryce sighed. He supposed it wouldn¡¯t take too long to teach about units of weight.
¡°Do you think you will be safe staying in the cave by yourself?¡± Fathom asked as he flew Pryce back to their temporary place of rest. They had just left a very engaging conversation, which Jooral seemed to want to keep going despite the setting sun ¨C she had expressed particular envy at being able to measure things as precisely as humans could, and had hinted that she would like a scale for herself. Celeste was also an eager participant, though she¡¯d excused herself a quarter of an hour ago citing her lack of sleep from the night before.
¡°Probably, why do you ask?¡±
¡°I was thinking of hunting something for Celeste tonight, to pay her back for the lizards this morning,¡± Fathom said.
¡°Yeah, I¡¯ll be fine, I have my rifle,¡± Pryce reassured.
¡°Good,¡± Fathom said, nodding as he glanced back at Pryce. He was silent for a few moments, then said, ¡°I wanted to tell you earlier that it is¡not normal for dragons to talk to their children like that. No one asks for help, unless it is for something that can benefit both dragons.¡± Fathom paused for a few moments. ¡°If you were not here, and if you did not convince me, then I don¡¯t think I would have talked to her like that. Thank you.¡±
¡°...You¡¯re welcome.¡± Pryce felt that response was insufficient, so he added, ¡°It might have taken longer, but I think you would have talked to her eventually.¡±
Fathom rumbled doubtfully, but he looked ahead to focus on his descent ¨C they had arrived at their destination.
He landed a bit more smoothly this time, and froze as Pryce unbuckled himself.
Celeste was already sleeping in their cave.
Pryce followed his line of sight and whispered, ¡°What is she doing here?¡±
Fathom made no reply, save for giving Pryce an uncertain glance. He slowly crept up to his daughter and sat in indecision, half-hoping she would wake. He stiffened when she stirred and curled more tightly around herself as she mumbled in her sleep. They both watched as she stilled, and Fathom sighed.
In a familiar-yet-painful gesture he laid down and curled himself around his daughter, blanketing her beneath his left wing. She did not wake, but shifted and curled more tightly around herself.
She was a little too large to fit comfortably under his wing anymore, but that did not matter in the least.
[JOURNAL ENTRY]
Day 81,
Fathom and Celeste made up today, which was quite heartwarming.
As ridiculous as it sounds, teaching dragons stuff might get a little stale if I¡¯m going to have to do it a few hundred more times. Perhaps I view it through the lens of giving a lecture? At least I¡¯ll be able to ask questions of my own, but I¡¯m not holding out much hope on getting a word in edgewise between three curious dragons.
I don¡¯t know why Celeste ended up in our ¡®guest cave¡¯, but she seems quite comfortable sleeping under Fathom¡¯s wing.
I¡¯m glad for them.
Chapter 45, Day 82: Dragon’s Blood
Pryce woke up and rubbed his eyes, then glanced at the two sleeping dragons. One, actually; Celeste was eyeing him while she laid beneath Fathom¡¯s wing. He waved, and Celeste twitched her spines in reply. He wasn¡¯t sure if she was returning the gesture or was simply annoyed at being unable to respond, so he decided to assume it was the former.
Celeste watched Pryce eat his canned breakfast with a rather attentive air. Understandable, since she had never seen manufactured metal cans before. A few minutes later she shut her eyes, either bored or drowsy, and returned to sleep.
Pryce scribbled in his notebook, planning the day¡¯s events as he waited for the two to wake up. When that task was done, he preoccupied himself by observing and taking note of the local flora and fauna, though he was careful not to stray more than a few meters from the cave entrance.
Fathom awoke about an hour later. He turned his head to peer at his now-sleeping daughter, his eyes brimming with something between nostalgia and melancholy. ¡°She really has grown,¡± he whispered, a comment that didn¡¯t seem to expect a reply; not that Pryce had any to give.
Celeste began to stir from the noise, and Fathom pulled his wing back, stretching a little as he stood up. ?Did you sleep well?? Fathom asked.
?Yes,? she said, ducking her head as she fidgeted a little. ?I did not mean to fall asleep. I was going to ask if you wanted to go hunting, but then I felt so tired, and¡? she trailed off apologetically.
?You do not need to apologize, I had forgotten how warm it is to sleep next to someone,? Fathom said, looking quite happy. ¡°We can go hunting now, if you would like,? he offered, when Celeste only looked uncomfortably embarrassed.
¡°Alright, let¡¯s go talk to Ghorrah and Jooral after you get some food to eat. I should probably explain to them how we know when the other humans are coming,¡± Pryce said, changing the topic of conversation.
Given how independent dragons seemed to be, he wouldn¡¯t have found it surprising if it was considered a childish thing for an adult to sleep beneath their parent¡¯s wing.
¡°So, that¡¯s how the radio works. Basically, it uses light that we can¡¯t see to send and receive messages.¡± The morning had been filled with many tangents and explanations, but with Fathom¡¯s help he finally finished explaining how a radio worked. Pryce hadn¡¯t quite expected talking to be the reason why he would need all of the water bottles he brought, but he was glad that he came prepared.
?It is difficult to believe in this ¡®light we cannot see¡¯,? Ghorrah huffed with a skeptical air.
?That does explain why I have seen some animals walk into raptors, even if we can see them,? Jooral pondered aloud. ?All this time I just thought they were just stupid,? she said frankly.
?Wait, is this why we look different in the photographs?? Celeste asked. ?It makes sense that humans would make photographs that only use the types of light that they can see.?
Fathom paused briefly in his translation, realizing he had forgotten to ask Pryce about this oddity. "Why don''t we have patterns in the photographs?"
¡°You have patterns?¡± Pryce exclaimed. ¡°Why didn¡¯t you tell me earlier?¡±
¡°I thought you could see them, and I didn¡¯t have the words to ask why my markings weren¡¯t in the photograph back then, and when I did know enough words I wanted to ask about other things,¡± Fathom explained, sounding a little defensive.
¡°Well, what do they look like?¡± Pryce asked, gesturing impatiently.
¡°I don¡¯t know; they look like markings,¡± Fathom grumbled.
?What is he asking about?? Jooral asked curiously.
?He¡¯s asking what our markings look like, he can¡¯t see them,? Fathom explained.
Jooral hummed in thought, then abruptly stood up to return to her cave.
¡°Where¡¯s she going?¡± Pryce asked, to which Fathom could only shrug.
?She is retrieving something,? Ghorrah said, though she did not elaborate further.
?Wait, if he cannot see our markings, then does he see us as we appear in the photographs?? Celeste asked, clearly eager to confirm her hypothesis.
¡°I think so?¡± Pryce said, unsure if the photographs captured UV and IR light. ¡°I see you are dark blue, Fathom is light blue, while Ghorrah and Jooral are grey, but that¡¯s about it.¡±
¡°We sound so boring when you describe it like that,¡± Fathom grumbled.
¡°Dragons are still much more beautiful than other animals,¡± Pryce pointed out.
¡°Yes, but you¡¯re not seeing everything,¡± Fathom sighed. ¡°Dragons without patterns are like crystals that do not shine.¡±
¡°...Now you¡¯re making me feel like I¡¯m missing out.¡±
Jooral re-emerged less than a minute later, hobbling as she carried something in one of her foreclaws. Interestingly, she was walking using two legs, her left arm, and the ¡®palm¡¯ of her unbroken right wing, though she didn¡¯t seem to be putting much weight on it.
?Oh, this is a good one,? Celeste said. All three dragons looked on appreciatively ¨C especially Fathom, who had never seen this piece before ¨C as Jooral set down a two meter-long wood carving of a dragon curled protectively over a nest. The statue was notably painted in crimson red pigment, but more interesting were the spiraling swirls depicted by finely ground fragments of nacre.
¡°This is an amazing carving, thank you for showing me this,¡± Pryce said in genuine awe. The statue had a great amount of detail, making it all the more impressive when one considered that it was crafted by someone whose talons lacked the dexterity of human digits. Each meticulously carved scale captured the rippling impression of a dragon in motion while the gemstone eyes sparkled with life, making it seem as if the statue might leap from its nest at any moment.
Jooral accepted his thanks with a complacent nod, then asked, ?The patterns here are made from clam shells, can you see their many colors??
¡°Yes, let me show you which colors I can see¡¡± Pryce dug around his pockets to retrieve the prism he had packed. ¡°I can only see these colors,¡± he said, swiping a finger across the spectrum of colors splayed out across the ground, from red to violet.
?That is more than I thought. From the way you described it, it sounded like he could only see a few colors,? Jooral said a little critically to Fathom, who flicked his nictitating membranes in annoyance at this barb.
¡°I¡¯m guessing clam shells don¡¯t have the same color as the patterns of a dragon?¡± Pryce asked Fathom.
¡°No, they¡¯re¡different. You can¡¯t see the colors, so it is difficult to describe, but it looks a little like the inside of a clam shell,¡± Fathom explained.
¡°What did you use to make this red color?¡± He asked Jooral. Pryce noticed Ghorrah¡¯s spines flattened in a scowl when she heard Fathom¡¯s hesitant translation, and he feared he¡¯d somehow been offensive.
Jooral, however, did not react to his suspected blunder. ?I named this color dragon blood, and that is a secret,? she said smugly.
¡°Dragon blood? Blood turns black after a while, it wouldn¡¯t look red like this. Is this color made from tree blood?¡± Pryce guessed, smiling at the idea of a draconic trade secret. Fathom hesitated again, but went ahead with the translation.
?How¡!? Jooral exclaimed, her eyes widening for a split second. ?How did you know?? She asked, regaining her composure.
¡°I¡¯ll take that as a yes,¡± Pryce chuckled while Fathom too blinked in surprise. ¡°I didn¡¯t know, but humans have done similar things to get colors from trees and rocks too.¡±
?Rocks? How do you get color from rocks? I tried using rocks for color before, but they never last long,? Jooral asked. She seemed simultaneously fascinated by the idea while being plaintive at being outdone.
¡°I don¡¯t know much about that kind of thing,¡± Pryce shrugged apologetically. ¡°But other humans would know lots about it,¡± he added.
?Does he not know it is rude to ask for secrets?? Ghorrah interrupted with an irritated rumble.
?Humans are different, they have less secrets, and teach each other things,? Fathom explained. ?And it is not his fault if she gave away her own secret,? he added smugly.
?He is not wrong, that was indeed my fault,? Jorral said good-naturedly, though Ghorrah still looked like she wanted to argue the point, and Celeste, who had been watching silently, looked a little anxious.
¡°I¡¯m sorry, I didn¡¯t know that was rude,¡± Pryce said, hoping that would smooth things over. He couldn¡¯t understand much of the words used, but their adversarial tone was impossible to misinterpret. Fathom was reluctant to translate this, but the apology did seem to placate Ghorrah.
?I do have something else to show you, I am curious to see if humans know how to make it,? Jooral said, standing back up and retrieving her wood carving.
?I have already seen those, so I may as well go hunting. Is there anything you¡¯d like, Jooral, Ahnoumh?? Ghorrah asked.
?I already ate this morning,? Celeste said with a nod of thanks.
?Thank you, my wings, anything you catch will be fine,? Jooral said with her own thankful nod.
?You say that every time, and every time you eat some of mine,? Ghorrah huffed, tossing her head in exasperation. Jooral only responded with an odd chortling noise ¨C something Pryce assumed to be a draconic snicker.
¡°I wanted to ask, does Jooral call Ghorrah ¡®my wings¡¯?¡± Pryce asked Fathom after Jooral and Ghorrah had left. He had heard it several times before, but wasn¡¯t sure if he was interpreting that right; for all he knew it was a quirk of Draconic grammar, or a new expression.
¡°Yes, why? They are¡¡± Fathom paused. ¡°You have not told me this word yet. They are¡a bit like mates, but closer to very good friends.¡±
¡°...I don¡¯t think there¡¯s a word for this in English,¡± Pryce said, scratching his head. ¡°The only thing I can think of is ¡®best friend¡¯.¡±
¡°That is¡not very wrong, but that is two words, not one word,¡± Fathom snorted.
?What are you two talking about?? Jooral asked, having returned with something small in her talons and sounding curious to hear Fathom speaking English.
?It is complicated, let me finish talking to Pryce, then I will explain,? Fathom said, then had to translate this to Pryce.
¡°In human culture mates are usually considered closer than friends, and closer than best friends, though some people would disagree,¡± Pryce explained.
¡°Well, that is confusing, ¡®best friends¡¯ are less common and closer than mates,¡± Fathom rumbled. ¡°I will try explaining these words again to make things less confusing; you said a friend is ¡®a person you are happy to see¡¯, but we fight or trade with most other dragons. Trading can make someone happy, but I don¡¯t think that is the same as being happy to see someone.¡±
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¡°Yeah, I didn¡¯t have the right words at the time, but a friend is basically someone you trust,¡± Pryce nodded.
¡°Good, that is what I guessed,¡± Fathom nodded, content to see that he¡¯d guessed correctly. ¡°Now I will explain ¡®mates¡¯. Mates are dragons who have an egg together, so these two are¡obviously not mates,¡± Fathom said, working around the missing word.
¡°Okay,¡± Pryce murmured as he tilted his head in thought. There were definitely some cultural differences that made the term ¡®mate¡¯ not entirely accurate, even if it was true. He decided to offer an alternative word, seeing as there was nothing he could do to avoid this issue. ¡°Let¡¯s call them ¡®partners¡¯ for now. Can mates be partners?¡±
¡°Yes, sometimes mates become partners, or the other way around, but I thought you didn¡¯t have a word for this? What does ¡®partner¡¯ mean?¡± Fathom asked, while Jooral was visibly growing more restless with each sentence she could not participate in.
¡°¡®Partner¡¯ is one of the words for a human mate. It¡¯s not perfect, but it¡¯s the best I can think of right now. Humans only have one partner, are dragons the same?¡±
¡°Yes,¡± Fathom said simply.
¡°Alright, I think that¡¯s a good word. You should explain what we were talking about, Jooral looks like she¡¯s going to explode.¡±
Fathom snorted in amusement, and did as Pryce asked. ?Humans consider mates to be closer than partners, but I am not sure why,? he summarized.
?Took you long enough,? Jooral snorted, flicking her spines in irritation. ?That is very odd, I wonder why they think so? Does he think we are strange?? She asked, awaiting the translation.
¡°It is a little strange, but not bad, strange is interesting,¡± Pryce answered through Fathom. ¡°And I¡¯m not sure why we have this difference¡maybe it¡¯s because dragons live much longer than humans and can have more than one mate in their lives? That would make mates less important, but this doesn¡¯t explain why you don¡¯t have more¡er¡friends,¡± Pryce said awkwardly, belatedly realizing this sounded like an insult.
?Humans take 20 years to become an adult, and most only live around 80 years. Raising a child takes most of their lives, so they usually only have one mate,? Fathom explained to Jooral, then turned to Pryce. ¡°That¡¯s easy, friends need more trust than mates. Mates both want to see their egg grow up safely, and do not need to stay together after the dragonet becomes an adult. Friends often do not want the same things, so they need more trust.¡±
¡°That...makes sense,¡± Pryce said after a moment¡¯s thought. ¡°How many of all dragon partners are both male or both female? Is there a name for this?¡±
¡°I¡don¡¯t know,¡± Fathom said, narrowing his eyes in thought. ¡°That changes often, and some partners do not stay together very long, but maybe one in five partners are both male or both female? Why are you so surprised?¡± Fathom asked, blinking.
¡°Because¡maybe 1% of human partners are both male and female?¡± Pryce said, uncertain.
¡°That is a very low number,¡± Fathom said, a sentiment echoed by the other two dragons. ¡°Oh, there is one more reason for this; some dragons like to have a partner who they can¡¯t accidently have eggs with,¡± he added.
¡°That¡makes a lot of sense, actually,¡± Pryce said, his forehead wrinkled in thought. ¡°Sorry for leaving you out of the conversation, Jooral, what do you have in your hands?¡±
?This is something very few dragons can make, and I am the best of them,? she said proudly, holding out the object.
¡°Oh, a clay bowl!¡± Pryce exclaimed, recognizing the technology that Fathom had mentioned a few days prior. ¡°It is hard to make these, you use a special type of dirt and water to make this, then you use fire to make it dry and hard, right?¡±
Jooral huffed upon hearing him describe the process. ?I expected this, but I hoped otherwise.?
¡°This is very impressive, did you learn how to do this alone, or did someone teach you?¡± Pryce asked, amazed. Clay pottery may be a millenia-old technology, but it was still very difficult for one person to make from scratch, especially considering the pottery had to be large enough for a dragon to use. The bowl she held was closer to ¡®cup¡¯ on a dragon¡¯s scale than a bowl. It was at most only half a meter in diameter, but Pryce knew it was quite the feat to sculpt something that size without it cracking apart during the firing process.
?Yes, a long time ago I made a fire near wet dirt, and I saw that some soft parts became hard. It took a long time to learn how to make something that did not break into pieces, and even then it was small and useless,? she rumbled, an unfocused, distant look in her eyes.
¡°That¡¯s amazing,¡± Pryce said, walking up to inspect the cup without touching it.
?This is not very nice, I have other better ones,? Jooral boasted as he examined the clay cup.
¡°Can I see them? Please?¡±
Jooral squinted down at him, appearing indecisive. ?No,? she finally said, ?I do not trust you that much yet,? she said somewhat reluctantly.
Pryce tried not to take offense at this, though he could not help but feel a little disappointed.
¡°...Is it rude to ask Jooral about her past?¡± He asked Fathom.
¡°It is embarrassing to ask because that is something a dragon is expected to know, but it should be fine if I ask for you,¡± Fathom said before echoing his question.
?I could tell you,? Jooral said, a hint of playfulness in her voice. ?But only if you tell me something interesting first.?
¡°Haven¡¯t I told you enough?¡± Pryce sighed.
?Yes, but you gave away those secrets,? she said, flaring her spines smugly.
¡°Fair enough,¡± Pryce chuckled. ¡°How about I tell you how humans found the distance between the Earth and the Sun?¡±
¡°Celeste, do you have any questions? You were quieter than normal today,¡± he asked, glancing at the younger dragon, the day nearing its end.
Fathom translated for him, and Celeste said off-handedly, ?I do not have any questions right now, I was just trying to see if I could learn your language by listening.?
¡°Oh, you don¡¯t have to go through all of that trouble, I¡¯ll teach you that whenever you want,¡± Pryce said, causing Celeste to look thoughtful.
?I noticed that you say ¡®Celeste¡¯ when you talk to me, what does that word mean?? she asked.
¡°Well, I can¡¯t say dragon words, so I need to use human words to talk about a dragon.¡±
?Humans words? Like a new name?? Celeste blinked. ?Did he give you a new name?? She asked her father.
?...Yes,? Fathom admitted.
?I am surprised you let him do that,? Celeste said, narrowing her eyes in a scowl. ?I think he calls you ¡®Fathom¡¯? What does that mean??
?It means ¡®understanding¡¯, and I would rather he give me a new name than to say my name badly,? he said defensively.
¡°And yet I still had to bribe you,¡± Pryce muttered.
¡°What was that?¡± Fathom swung his head to squint suspiciously at Pryce.
¡°Nothing, are names very important to dragons?¡± Pryce asked.
Fathom snorted, deciding to ignore the jab. ¡°Yes, names are very important, your name is who you are. Do humans have more than one name?¡±
¡°No, like I told you earlier, we only have family names and personal names. Very few humans change their names.¡±
?What does ¡®Celeste¡¯ mean?? Celeste asked. ?That¡is not a bad meaning, at least,? she said when Fathom told her that it meant ¡®sky¡¯. ?I would still rather he use my name. Can you ask him to try? It cannot be that bad,? she said skeptically.
Pryce did as she asked.
"...He can call me Celeste."
"Is it that bad?" Pryce grumbled.
"Yes," Father and daughter said, simultaneously.
"How did you know what he said?" Fathom asked in surprise, then blinked as he realized she spoke in English.
?I mostly guessed from his tone, and he answered a few questions with ¡®yes¡¯ a few times today. It is not hard to learn what that is when you repeated his words in our speech right afterwards,? Celeste answered with a shrug.
Fathom tilted his head in acquiescence. "Well, I would be glad if you learned their speech quickly, my throat is dry from talking so much. Pryce, do you want to get some water?" He asked, having seen the human drink several bottles of water throughout the day.
?I will wait here, I am not thirsty,? Celeste said, and watched as Pryce clambered onto her father¡¯s neck with some amusement.
Pryce filled and disinfected his water bottles as great gulps of water traveled down Fathom''s gullet. He was glad they had a moment to talk in private, and considered his words carefully while Fathom finished drinking.
"That is much better. I have not talked so much in a long time; it is tiring to repeat your words so much," Fathom said, before swallowing a few more mouthfuls of water.
"Repeating words in another language is ''translate''," Pryce said, glad for the minor distraction.
"...We only have one language, so it makes sense that we don¡¯t have this word. Even ¡®language¡¯ is just something like ''talking'', or ¡®speech¡¯," Fathom said. "It is interesting to learn words that we do not have, I have not noticed it before, but now that I''ve talked to dragons I can see that I think about things differently than I did before."
"That is very interesting," Pryce agreed, filing that information away under his ever-growing pile of things to look into. "By the way, I have a few questions that I didn''t want to ask in front of Jooral."
"Ask," Fathom said curiously, tilting his head at the indirect approach.
"Most dragons want eggs, right? Then why do dragons take partners of the same gender?"
"Depends. Some dragons are happy with a few eggs, some are too weak to win the chance to have an egg, or some don¡¯t care enough to have eggs," Fathom answered with a shrug.
"Do any dragons have two eggs at once?" Pryce asked, though he knew the answer had to be yes; a population would die out if each dragon only ever had one egg.
"Yes, one dragon can have two eggs at once, but that is very rare and very lucky. A dragon can try to win another chance to have an egg ten years after their child becomes an adult.¡±
"Humans can have as many children as they want, though most only have one or two."
"That''s not surprising if there are fifty million of you," Fathom huffed. "Our culture is very different, dragons must earn a chance to have an egg."
¡°Yeah, about that, how do dragons do that? Earn a chance to have an egg, I mean. You mentioned it had to do with the solstice celebration, right?¡±
¡°Yes, dragons in one province come together and compete. Males compete against males, and females do the same. Dragon who wins once competes against another dragon who has also won once, then the winner fights someone who has won twice. This happens until the winners are left.¡± Fathom finished here, but seemed to realize Pryce would ask more questions, so he elaborated, ¡°The competition can be about almost anything, but both dragons need to agree to it. If they can¡¯t agree then they play a game where one dragon grabs a few rocks, and the other dragon guesses if the number of rocks is odd or even. Winner decides the type of competition.¡±
¡°Interesting,¡± Pryce said. It was a pretty elegant way of organizing what was essentially a tournament. ¡°What if the winning male and female don¡¯t like each other?¡±
¡°Then it gets complicated, but that is rare; it usually doesn¡¯t happen unless they hate each other very much.¡± Fathom paused. ¡°Why did you not want to talk about this in front of Jooral?¡±
¡°I haven¡¯t actually gotten to that part.¡± Pryce rubbed his neck sheepishly. ¡°I wanted to ask if dragons think it is bad for partners to have the same gender.¡±
"No?" Fathom said, though it came out almost like a question. "Why would they think that?"
"Humans were like that for a long time, though there are much less of them now," Pryce admitted.
"Humans care about other human''s partners? Why? That does not affect them," Fathom snorted in derision. ¡°...Does it?¡± He added questioningly.
"No, it doesn''t, but they still do. It''s difficult to explain why, but there¡¯s not really a good reason.¡±
"Dragons like it when other dragons have partners with the same gender; that can mean less competition for them," Fathom said frankly.
¡°Makes sense. What about¡uh¡¡± Pryce trailed off, wondering how to explain ¡®heritage¡¯ or ¡®bloodline¡¯. ¡°Many people want their children to have children, because they want to have a¡part of themselves to continue existing. Does that make sense? Do dragons also want this?¡±
¡°Yes, I think I understand. Some dragons do want that,¡± Fathom said, with a side-to-side motion of his head. ¡°But we live many years, so if a parent wants ¡®a part of themselves to continue existing¡¯ then they should just have more eggs themselves,¡± he said reasonably.
Pryce scratched his head, a little bemused. ¡°That makes sense. It sounds like dragons are pretty pragmatic. That is a word to describe someone who makes sense," he added when Fathom looked blank.
"Yes, that is true," he said complacently, then turned to eye the sunset. ¡°We should get back, Celeste is probably waiting for us.¡±
[JOURNAL ENTRY]
Contrary to popular belief, homosexual behavior has often been documented in nature. I never really thought about it, but it makes sense that dragons would be no exception.
To be clear, it¡¯s not that dragons are more accepting or anything like that; they simply don¡¯t bother with things that don¡¯t affect them.
It¡¯s fascinating how one can trace the differences in culture to the (rather drastic) differences in our biology.
On a more important note, Jooral claimed that only a few dragons know how to make clay pots. She also boasted that hers are the best, so I feel safe in concluding that dragons don¡¯t have technology much more advanced than basic/intermediate metallurgy and clay pottery.
Come to think of it, Jooral might have literal centuries of experience as a craftsman craftsdragon artisan. The color of a dragon¡¯s hide is dependent on diet, so that¡¯s not necessarily a useful indicator, but she still gives the impression of being old in ways I can¡¯t quite describe ¨C even if she acts rather youthful. I should ask for her age.
Currently, my main concern is winning over Ghorrah, who doesn¡¯t have as much interest in humans and is by far the least amiable among the three. Not sure what I can do about that, but I¡¯ll focus on collecting information for now.
Chapter 46, Day 83: Fortitude
¡°Can I ask about how you broke your wing?¡± Pryce asked that morning, soon after Ghorrah had gone hunting.
?Did you wait for Ghorrah to leave before asking that question?? Jooral asked, her eyes glinting observantly. ?Not a bad idea; you have seen how she can be ¨C and yes, I suppose you have earned it, though I am curious to know your past as well.?
¡°I can tell you about that later, when Ghorrah is here,¡± Pryce said, noticing Celeste¡¯s curious gaze as Fathom translated for him.
?Very well, I will tell you my past, but you must ask Ghorrah for hers,? Jooral warned. ?I met Ghorrah when I was only six years old. We became friends and decided to live together for a few years.? She said this with a faraway look in her eyes, and Pryce wondered how old these memories were. ?One day, another dragon challenged me to a fight. She and I swore to follow the standard rules, but she immediately broke her promise by ripping up my wings, and I fell from the skies,? she said rather casually, and pointedly shifted her broken wing.
¡°Standard rules mean no weapons, and no attacking the wings,¡± Fathom added after his translation.
¡°Weapons?¡±
¡°Rocks.¡±
¡°Ah. Why did the other dragon break her promise?¡± Pryce asked, frowning.
?I was young, and so was she. She probably thought she could kill me,? Jooral said candidly. ?If she did, then her chances of having an egg would have been better. It would have worked, if she had not approached me thinking I was too wounded to kill her.? The satisfaction in her words was evident, even before Pryce heard the translation. He had thought the ¡®rules¡¯ Fathom spoke seemed difficult to enforce, so it wasn¡¯t surprising that some individuals would be less honorable than others. Humans had fought and killed for petty reasons since time immemorial, why would another sapient race be any different?
¡°Aren¡¯t you supposed to have witnesses to kill another dragon? What happened here? Did Jooral face any consequences?¡± Pryce asked.
¡°You are supposed to, but sometimes dragons break rules,¡± Fathom growled contemptuously, as if the words themselves were distasteful. ¡°In this case, Jooral did nothing wrong, and the invader is considered to be the one at fault.¡±
¡°Sounds like it can get complicated,¡± Pryce muttered. He turned to Jooral. ¡°What happened afterwards?¡±
?After that, I was¡well, not flying was horrible, of course,? she said, glancing at her broken wing, ?but I had Ghorrah; she said she would take care of me while I recovered. Of course, I never fully healed, so now she is stuck with me forever.?
Celeste chuffed, and Pryce assumed that was something of an old joke between them.
?One day she suggested that I try making things,? Jooral snorted in amusement. ?I doubted I could do anything like that, and I was right, at least for the first few years¡but she kept encouraging me, until I became the best,? she said, with not undeserved complacency.
¡°I see, thank you for telling me. Your strength is admirable,¡± Pryce said, bowing his head a little.
?Why are you doing that? We traded information, there is no need for thanks,? Jooral said, flicking her spines dismissively.
?...That is a human thing, I think,? Fathom answered for Pryce.
¡°Pretty much,¡± Pryce shrugged.
?I am still confused; why did you say I was strong?? Jooral asked, tilting her head.
¡°You got hurt, you lost a lot, but you are still happy, and you didn¡¯t let that stop you from¡being you,¡± Pryce said earnestly.
Fathom paused for a second before translating this, just long enough for Pryce to take notice. Had he said something offensive, somehow?
Jooral contemplated this for a few moments, her spines flattened slightly as she tapped a talon against the ground in thought. ?Did you tell them?? she asked Celeste, breaking the silence.
?I did not,? Celeste replied, looking interested for reasons Pryce couldn¡¯t discern.
?Interesting¡Ghorrah likes to say that to me,? Jooral said in response to Pryce and Fathom¡¯s confused expressions. ?Even if it is obvious that she is the strong one,? she said with something of an affectionate huff. ?If not for her, I would have died back then; it is not strength if one relies upon another,? Jooral said in what sounded remarkably similar to a lecturing tone. ?If I am strong, then it is not because of that.?
¡°Humans are different, we live together and help each other to help ourselves, we could not do very much if we did everything alone.¡±
?...Yes,? she said, eyeing him contemplatively, ?If that is how humans live, then I think I can see why you would think that way, but we are very different.?
¡°Of course,¡± Pryce said, nodding. He wasn¡¯t sure if he could change her mind, but it was probably best not to push her.
?This reminds me, father,? Celeste said into the preceding silence, ?you have still not explained how your wing was healed?.
?Oh, yes, Pryce fixed it,? Fathom said, extending his left wing and gesturing to the scars where the injury had been.
?What.? Jooral stood up and approached Fathom slowly, her eyes locked upon his wing. ?This bone was bent?? She asked severely, her demands a sharp contrast to her previously easy-going personality.
?Yes, two months ago that bone was bent like this,? Fathom said, tracing the angle that the bone had been fixed in for seventeen years.
Jooral opened her mouth, then closed it. She opened it again after a moment¡¯s indecision, as if afraid of the answer.
?How?? She asked, barely concealing her shock.
¡°I cannot fix your wing,¡± Pryce said, getting the bad news out of the way. At his request, Fathom explained what had happened with regard to the healing of his wing, with Celeste and Jooral listening raptly, though the latter was quite distracted.
¡°Fathom¡¯s injury was less severe, but even then I was afraid I wouldn¡¯t be able to fix it,¡± Pryce explained when Fathom was done recounting the story.
¡°Was it that bad?¡± Fathom asked, looking somewhat distressed by this piece of information.
¡°Yes, your bones are too strong, my tools were almost not good enough to cut them. I¡¯m honestly surprised it healed so well,¡± Pryce confessed.
¡°Why didn¡¯t you tell me that earlier?¡± Fathom asked indignantly, flexing his wing as if to reassure himself that it was still functioning properly.
¡°I didn¡¯t want you to worry unless there was reason to, and it was healing well,¡± Pryce said, shrugging helplessly.
¡°I would have liked it better if you told me,¡± Fathom grumbled reproachfully.
¡°Well¡you never asked,¡± Pryce pointed out.
¡°That¡is true,¡± Fathom begrudgingly admitted, his irritation deflating. He looked around to see Jooral and Celeste¡¯s impatient expressions, so he quickly translated their conversation.
?...It is alright, I have not flown in centuries,? Jooral said once he had recounted their exchange. Oddly enough, she sounded almost¡relieved? ?I enjoy making things with my hands, and I am used to the discomfort; it does not bother me very much anymore.?
¡°I wasn¡¯t finished,¡± Pryce said. ¡°I cannot fix your wing, but if humans learned more about dragons, then maybe in ten years we could try and fix it.¡±
Silence.
?This is great, is it not?? Celeste asked cheerfully, though her excitement was damped by Jooral¡¯s shocked expression.
?I¡I would like to be alone,? Jooral said, quietly excusing herself before she stumbled away, as if in a daze.
?But¡why¡?? Celeste asked her father, confusion apparent in her eyes.
?I think I know what she is thinking,? Fathom replied once Jooral was too far to hear their conversation. ?When Pryce fixed my wing, I had no way to know if I could fly well until I was healed enough to try.?
Celeste only silently frowned as she waited for her father to continue.
?She thought that she would never fly again, but found purpose in her craft. It is easy to give up on something when it is impossible, but now¡? Fathom sighed sympathetically, ?she has hope, and that, in a way, is worse.?
?I¡still don¡¯t understand,? Celeste said.
?Maybe I am not explaining it well,? Fathom grumbled.
¡°I can see that, but it might be something else too,¡± Pryce said once this had been translated for him. ¡°Imagine a group of ten dragons, the strongest would be happiest, but who do you think the unhappiest would be?¡±
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
¡°The weakest, of course,¡± Fathom answered.
¡°Wrong, the weakest has nothing to lose, and so they have nothing to worry about. It is the second strongest who would be the most unhappy.¡±
Fathom looked like he was about to protest, then paused for a second. ¡°¡Yes, I can understand that. So you¡¯re saying that Jooral was happy not having to fight, so she doesn¡¯t know how to feel about the chance to be ¡®strong¡¯ again?¡±
¡°It¡¯s just a guess, it is something humans have noticed in ourselves and in other animals; it might be different for dragons,¡± Pryce shrugged, and let Fathom translate their conversation for Celeste. ¡°How old is Jooral, by the way?¡± He asked when Fathom fell silent.
¡°Four-hundred and thirty-seven,¡± Fathom answered, staggering Pryce. ¡°Ghorrah is four-hundred and thirty-nine years old.¡±
¡°She¡¯s what?¡± He exclaimed in shock. ¡°But she doesn¡¯t look old!¡±
¡°She does look old, her scales are dull,¡± Fathom said, confused. ¡°What do you mean by ¡®look old¡¯?¡±
¡°You said old dragons are around five hundred years old, right?¡± Pryce asked, a ridiculous conclusion forming in the back of his mind. ¡°When things get old they get weak and slow, but Jooral isn¡¯t like that at all.¡±
¡°Old dragons get weak and slow because they get hurt, or sick, but Jooral¡¯s body is not hurt, and she is not sick either,¡± Fathom said, squinting in confusion.
Pryce opened his mouth, then paused to think. Dying of old age wasn¡¯t common in nature, so it would be difficult to see the symptoms in other animals, and if old dragons died from illness or injury then that meant¡
He sat down, putting his head in his hands. ¡°Oh hell.¡±
¡°What? Is something wrong?¡± Fathom asked, concerned but unsure of why Pryce was so affected by this conversation.
¡°Let me get this straight; if dragons do not get sick, do they not get weaker as they age?¡± Pryce asked.
¡°If by ¡®get straight¡¯ you mean ¡®clarify'', then yes, though everyone is killed or gets sick eventually. Are humans not like that?¡±
¡°No!¡±
Fathom pulled his head back in alarm as he began to realize why Pryce was so shocked. ¡°Wait, humans start to get weak and slow even if you do not get sick or hurt?¡±
¡°Yes, like every other normal creature,¡± Pryce stressed.
¡°But¡I thought humans died early because they were killed by something, why would you get weaker for no reason? When do humans start getting weaker?¡± Fathom asked, visibly distressed.
¡°It starts when we¡¯re around thirty years old, but it¡¯s not too bad until we get to fifty. After eighty most of us can¡¯t really do much on our own,¡± Pryce shrugged.
¡°But you¡you¡¯re fifty years old,¡± Fathom said, his eyes wide, as if Pryce might to keel over at any moment.
¡°Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯m not going to drop dead anytime soon,¡± Pryce reassured, trying to wave off his concern. ¡°We don¡¯t just get sick and die, it¡¯s a slow process.¡±
Fathom only stared with his mouth open, as if struggling to come up with the right words to express his sentiments. ¡°¡That is not fair,¡± he said, lamely.
¡°Well...like you said, the sun will rise,¡± Pryce sighed. ¡°By the way, who was the oldest dragon?¡±
¡°The oldest dragon in history that I know of lived to seven hundred and twenty-three years, but most do not make it to five hundred,¡± he added, as if this were only an interesting piece of trivia.
¡°If a dragon lived over six hundred years then why did you tell me that an old dragon is five hundred years old?¡± Pryce groused in exasperation.
¡°That is an old dragon,¡± Fathom protested. ¡°The one who lived for six hundred years is very, very old.¡±
?What is he saying?¡± Celeste inquired, seeing that her father was upset by whatever words they had exchanged. ?But that is not much time at all,? she exclaimed upon hearing the translation. ¡°How under the Sun do they get anything done in so little time??
?There are a lot of them, and they work together, so that must be how,? Fathom said, expressing his doubt.
¡°Did she say under the sun?¡± Pryce asked, hoping to change the dreary subject. ¡°I think I heard Jooral say that earlier, what does that mean?¡±
¡°It is¡difficult to explain. It can mean anything and everything, because all things are under the sun. It¡¯s often used when someone is surprised,¡± Fathom explained, then added a tad defensively, ¡°it doesn¡¯t translate very well.¡±
¡°I think I understand, there¡¯s a human expression that¡¯s similar, we say ¡®How in the world?¡¯ or ¡®How on earth?¡¯¡±
¡°Interesting, that is similar,¡± Fathom noted, while Celeste looked impatient.
¡°Does Celeste want to learn English?¡± Pryce asked. ¡°I think she¡¯s getting tired of asking for translations all the time.¡±
?There is a lot of time left today, can I learn human speech? It is tiring to be always asking about what is being said,? Celeste said. ?Why are you laughing?? She asked, tilting her head quizzically.
?You two asked for the same thing,? Fathom chuckled.
¡°Is ¡®I go hunt now,¡¯ correct?¡± Celeste asked, a few hours later.
¡°It is ¡®I will go hunting now¡¯, but what you said is understandable,¡± Fathom corrected, nodding his head approvingly. ¡°And yes, I am hungry, so we can go hunt together.¡±
¡°Wait, I have¡thing,¡± Celeste stammered. ¡°You watch Pryce, I will go hunting, and we¡urhg, we switch tomorrow, and the one who finishes hunting enough food for the both of us faster wins,¡± she said, switching back to her native tongue out of frustration.
?That is an ¡®idea¡¯, and yes, I accept this challenge,¡± Fathom smirked, a competitive glint in his eyes. ¡°Pryce, can you check the time with the chronometer? Celeste wants to see how quickly she can hunt,¡± he called out, then added, ?I am hungry, so try not to take too long, alright??
?Do not worry; I will be back very soon,? Celeste said, narrowing her eyes before leaping into the skies.
Pryce approached him once the dust settled down. The human had listened to Fathom¡¯s lessons for half an hour before excusing himself to scribble in those books of his ¨C Fathom was faintly impressed that he never seemed to run out of things to write about.
¡°It is 5:31 pm,¡± Pryce said. ¡°I¡¯m glad you were able to teach Celeste English without my help. She has learned very quickly; soon she can teach other dragons too,¡± Pryce said.
¡°Of course she has learned quickly," Fathom said, raising his head with pride. "She is my daughter, after all.¡±
¡°She is learning even more quickly than you, maybe she¡¯s more like her mother?¡± Pryce smirked.
Fathom snorted in amusement. ¡°That was a weak one; we both know it is because I can speak both of our languages,¡± he said, rolling his eyes. ¡°In fact, this means that I am a better teacher than you,¡± he said smugly.
¡°Well, if you¡¯re such a great teacher then you can do all the teaching from now on, right?¡±
¡°...well done,¡± Fathom sighed, begrudgingly conceding the point.
Pryce¡¯s smile faded as he adopted a somber expression. ¡°How many dragons do you think have wing injuries like hers?¡±
¡°Not many, less than ten, and probably only one or two that are worse than hers.¡±
¡°Really? That¡¯s lower than I thought,¡± Pryce said, raising an eyebrow.
¡°Most crashes that bad will kill the dragon, and if they survived with injuries like hers, then they would probably kill themselves,¡± Fathom shrugged.
Pryce stood staring for a moment, then asked quietly, ¡°...how often does that happen?¡±
¡°Hard to tell, sometimes a dragon just disappears, sometimes their bodies are found and no one knows if it was an accident. If I had to guess, maybe one every ten years,¡± Fathom shrugged. ¡°Very bad crashes are rare, and most of those would kill, not just break bones.¡±
Pryce sighed, then asked with a cautious air, ¡°Did¡did you ever want to¡?¡±
¡°Hmm? Oh, no, I was not happy, but I could still fly well enough to challenge most,¡± Fathom said, flicking a wing dismissively.
¡°I see, that is¡good,¡± Pryce said stiltedly, as if he was not sure how to respond to that answer. ¡°Anyways, earlier today, why did you pause when I explained why I thought Jooral was strong?¡±
¡°...I did not think you noticed that,¡± Fathom rumbled. He was silent for a few more moments, then continued as if he had not stopped. ¡°Your words made me think about what I did after I broke my wing, and I realized that I did not grow like Jooral; I did not¡become better.¡±
¡°Oh,¡± Pryce said softly, and looked as if he wanted to say more, but could not find the words. ¡°That isn''t true, you learned how to fly differently with your wing bent, right?¡± he said, after a moment of silence.
¡°That''s a very small thing," Fathom snorted dismissively. "Anyone could have done that."
They stood in silence, watching the daylight fade with the lowering sun.
¡°I have also been thinking about something else,¡± Fathom said without being prompted. ¡°I should have left with Celeste, fourteen years ago. I gave myself reasons why I could not go, I told myself that Celeste was young, so she would not be challenged by other dragons if she were alone, but I really stayed because I was stubborn, because I wanted to prove that I could protect our territory, even if I knew I couldn¡¯t.¡± He hung his head, and said in an uncharacteristically small voice, ¡°I did not grow.¡±
Pryce sighed, and drew himself up. ¡°Then that is good,¡± he said resolutely.
¡°What?¡± Fathom hissed, his head rearing up in offense.
¡°You¡¯re still young for a dragon, you have lots of time to grow ¨C literal centuries,¡± Pryce pressed. ¡°Yeah, you made mistakes, but so what? Everyone makes mistakes, what are you going to do about it?¡±
¡°I¡what are you¡?¡± Fathom was bemused by the human¡¯s uncharacteristic outburst, and he almost laughed as he realized what Pryce was doing. ¡°I will do what I should, and not what I want. I will be stronger.¡±
¡°Good,¡± Pryce said, nodding in satisfaction.
They spent a few minutes watching the sunset in companionable silence. Fathom recalled how Pryce taught him what caused those brilliant colors in the sky, and felt a sense of private satisfaction at being the only dragon to know so much about the world ¨C even more than any elder in all of history, now that he thought about it.
¡°You¡are usually not so loud,¡± Fathom noted, breaking the silence.
¡°Oh, that,¡± Pryce said, rubbing his neck in a sheepish manner. ¡°Didn¡¯t you tell me to do what I wanted more often?¡±
¡°Hmph. Not what I meant, but close enough,¡± Fathom snorted in amusement, and gently nudged Pryce. ¡°Thank you.¡±
Pryce smiled. ¡°Anytime, my friend.¡±
[JOURNAL ENTRY]
Day 83,
So, dragons are apparently biologically immortal.
I guess it¡¯s not that much more ridiculous than living for half a millennium, but it still bothers me. Traits like that don¡¯t just evolve for no reason; there must have been some reason for it, but I can¡¯t think of anything compelling. Maybe their biology is simply so robust that they functionally do not age? Like lobsters?
For the most part, evolution occurs at the scale of hundreds of thousands of years at minimum. Whatever generational knowledge that dragons pass on to their offspring doesn¡¯t go back far enough to explain any of their evolutionary history. Fathom himself has no idea why dragons live so long ¨C the Draconic word for aging means something more like ¡®growing up¡¯, and lacks the connotations we humans have.
Celeste has also informed me that the grey color Jooral and Ghorrah have is not technically due to their age, rather they simply don¡¯t care enough to maintain their appearances by eating pigment-rich foods, so grey is actually a dragon¡¯s natural color. That¡¯s not to say there are no indicators of a dragon¡¯s age ¨C their scales actually become a little more opaque over time, making it more difficult for older dragons to maintain vivid colorations.
Fathom and I had a talk today, and I think he was more depressed by his malunion than he let on. I decided not to confront him about that ¨C no point in digging up the past now that the problem is fixed.
I¡¯m a bit more worried about Jooral, I wasn¡¯t able to interpret how she took the news. I don¡¯t think I made any unrealistic promises, it should be easily doable in less than ten years, assuming ideal circumstances.
P.S. Celeste took 10 minutes 21 seconds to hunt two animals that resembled giant hexapedal rodents with thick hide rather than fur ¨C I estimate their masses to be around 60 to 100 kg each.
Chapter 47, Day 84: Devotion
Pryce woke up first, as usual. He snuck past the two slumbering dragons to get some fresh air, and almost swore when he came face-to-face with a dragon sitting by the side of the cave entrance ¨C Ghorrah, he realized a full second later.
¡°Why is everyone showing up here?¡± he asked in exasperation, his heart still pounding from the scare.
Ghorrah didn¡¯t respond, and instead she snaked her head past the cave entrance to glance at the younger dragon, who still drowsed beneath her father¡¯s wing. Ghorrah pointed a talon at Pryce, then made a beckoning gesture before turning away.
Pryce followed after a moment¡¯s thought ¨C if she wanted to kill him then she¡¯d already have done it, and he was curious to see what the adversarial dragon wanted with him.
He had a pretty good guess, considering yesterday¡¯s events.
They walked for a minute, and Ghorrah stopped a good distance away from the cave, far enough that no one would hear their conversation.
Ghorrah turned to face Pryce.
?You.?
She gestured to her right wing ¨C the same one Jooral had broken ¨C made a snapping gesture, then reversed it.
?Heal.?
She set her forelegs back onto the ground, then pointedly tilted her head.
?Yes??
The message was pretty clear, but Pryce wasn¡¯t sure how to respond; a simple shrug on his part could mean ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about,¡± or ¡°I don¡¯t know if I can do that.¡±
Ghorrah growled impatiently in response to his silence. It was a sound of agitation rather than aggression, but it was still a rather terrifying noise coming from a creature the length of a bus.
¡°Look, I don¡¯t know, okay? If you wanted to have a proper conversation, you should have woken Fathom,¡± Pryce said, focusing on his irritation to hide his anxiety.
She stopped growling, then stared at him with an undecipherable expression. When he did not elaborate, she drew herself up and suddenly lowered her head.
Thud.
Pryce flinched involuntarily ¨C but there was no pain, and when he opened his eyes he was shocked to see Ghorrah with her arms and neck bent inwards, and the top of her head planted firmly upon the ground.
He stood staring in disbelief at the proud dragon, bowed in supplication. She couldn¡¯t see him at all in this vulnerable position, and the only way for her to be more unguarded was if she literally rolled over.
A gentle breeze blew through the mountainside forest, and the mournful whistling noise they produced filled the silence between them like water from a burst dam.
Neither of them moved for a period of time, until Pryce let out an inordinate sigh.
Ghorrah twitched, and slowly raised her head, eyes wary.
¡°I don¡¯t know you very well,¡± Pryce said, sitting down cross-legged as he reached into his pocket and retrieved his notebook, ¡°but when a prideful individual bows their head, it¡¯s usually only for the sake of someone else.¡± He flipped to a blank page to draw something, then ripped out the page to place it on the ground, oriented so that Ghorrah could read what he had written.
Ghorrah looked on in confusion before Pryce made the same snap and reverse gesture she had used for ¡®heal¡¯, then traced ¡®!¡¯ and ¡®¨C¡¯, the Draconic symbols for ¡®yes¡¯ and ¡®no¡¯.
¡°I will try,¡± Pryce said, aware he was saying ¡°Heal yes-no,¡± but recognition seemed to dawn in her eyes.
Ghorrah straightened herself, eyeing him with a somewhat softer expression than the one she held before as she nodded. Pryce watched as she flew back in the direction of her home, and wondered if Jooral knew what her partner had done for her.
A few thoughtful moments later Pryce walked back to the cave, sighing in exasperation.
¡°What is with everyone having secret meetings with me?¡±
¡°Do you want to hunt now, or do you want to wait until sunset to make things fair?¡± Pryce asked, holding up the chronometer as Fathom and Celeste stretched awake.
?There is usually more prey in the morning, I don¡¯t need an advantage to win,? Fathom said austerely.
?Are you sure? You might need it,? Celeste offered once she¡¯d prodded him for a translation.
?Of course I am sure; we can have another competition when I beat your time tonight.?
¡°Alright, that¡¯s enough of that, let¡¯s go over what we¡¯re going to do today,¡± Pryce said, ¡°Jooral might be a bit distressed, so let¡¯s be careful. Try not to ask any questions that might make her feel worse.¡± He gave both dragons a pointed look.
?Do you think Ghorrah might attack us?? Fathom asked.
?No, she would not attack you,? Celeste said, though not with as much confidence as one might have hoped. ?Unless Jooral is very upset¡? She trailed off, glancing at Fathom.
¡°...I don¡¯t think she will either, but let¡¯s be cautious,¡± Pryce said. He didn¡¯t like keeping secrets, but he had a feeling Ghorrah would be less than happy if he told everyone what she had done.
The two dragons suddenly snapped their heads up, as if pulled by a string. Pryce followed their gaze, shielding his eyes from the sunlight to see a dragon on the horizon ¨C Ghorrah, according to Fathom.
They exchanged greetings when she landed a minute later, which were rather stilted on Ghorrah¡¯s side. She glanced between Fathom and Pryce for reasons obvious only to the latter. ?Jooral told me yesterday that the human ¨C Pryce,? she amended, ?fixed your broken wing. Is this true?? She asked, getting straight to the point of her concern.
?Yes,? Fathom said cautiously. He unfurled his left wing and traced where the injury had been, just as he had done yesterday ¨C though he kept a watchful eye on Ghorrah all the while.
?And¡how did he fix it?? Ghorrah asked warily. ?Jooral said that you did not mention how this was done.?
?I was hurt badly enough that I fell into a deep-sleep, and Pryce used that opportunity to cut off the bent parts of the bone, and used tools to keep it straight as it healed,? Fathom said, glossing over the grisly details. ?As you can see, it has worked well.?
?He cut off a piece of your bone? Is that what he would do to Jooral?? Ghorrah hissed in alarm, talons digging into the rock beneath her.
¡°Humans have medicine that can make us feel less pain or make us fall into a deep sleep. This works on animals too, so it should work on dragons as well,¡± Pryce said, which Fathom translated by working around the terms that had no direct translation.
?...I know your wound was real, Celeste would not lie about that, but I am having a hard time believing that such a dangerous method worked,? Ghorrah sighed, looking conflicted.
¡°Do you have any proof that this would work? Other than my wing, I mean,¡± Fathom asked Pryce.
¡°Would showing her the piece of your bone help convince her?¡± Pryce asked, raising an eyebrow.
¡°No, that¡¯s just creepy,¡± Fathom grumbled, not bothering to translate that question. ?Do you have any other questions?? he asked Ghorrah.
?...you could still fly without much difficulty, right? Her wound is far worse than yours was, can he really fix it?? Ghorrah asked severely.
?Pryce said that he makes no promises on whether or not humans can fix her wing, but he can promise that they will try, so long as dragons are not hostile to humans,? Fathom said, reciting what he and Pryce had agreed upon earlier.
?That is¡reasonable,? Ghorrah said, nodding her head slowly. ?So if I help you locate this human ¡®ship¡¯, then the humans will try and fix Jooral¡¯s wing??
¡°Yes,¡± Pryce said once Fathom had translated this.
?If I agree to this, then there will be three of us searching. What if I am not the one who finds this ¡®ship¡¯?? Ghorrah asked.
¡°Don¡¯t worry, so long as she tries to help, we will help Jooral,¡± Pryce said. ¡°Don¡¯t forget to tell her that this depends on what happens between humans and dragons,¡± he reminded Fathom, ¡°so it might be some time until we have learned enough about dragons to be able to heal her, but it should be less than ten years ¨C if things go well.¡±
?...Very well, I would not let you try and fix her wing without knowing what you are doing in any case,? Ghorrah said. ?Follow me; we will talk to Jooral,? Ghorrah said as she fanned her wings in preparation to fly.
¡°Wait, I have a question,¡± Pryce said. ¡°Why did you come to us? You could have waited back home with Jooral.¡±
Ghorrah hesitated to reply when Fathom translated this question for her. ?...do not tell her I said this, but we had a¡disagreement, yesterday,? she said, her spines twitching almost imperceptibly. ?She might be happy now, but she has a look in her eyes whenever I go flying, and I know she misses it, even if she has convinced herself otherwise. I wish to persuade her, but there are some questions I wanted to ask you before we talked with her.?
¡°I understand,¡± Pryce said, nodding. It was quite obvious she was referring to their earlier covert meeting this morning, especially given the pointed look she was currently giving him.
?Any more questions? Then follow me,? Ghorrah said when no one else voiced any concerns.
The short flight gave Pryce some time to realize how nervous he was. He was no ambassador; did he really have the right to make a promise on behalf of humanity? He wasn¡¯t offering anything of great material value, but it felt dishonest to be making oaths that involved people who knew nothing of the matter.
Well, there was nothing to be done about; he just had to give it his all.
Each dragon landed some distance apart from one another, so as to not foul each other¡¯s wings. Jooral glanced up as they landed, but she soon lowered her head in an uncharacteristic silence.
?I know you asked me not to fret,? Ghorrah whispered apologetically, ?but I am still worried about you.?
?Yes, yes, I am fine.? Jooral tossed her head as she said this, which conversely made her dejected mood all the more obvious.
?...I am worried.?
?I know,? Jooral sighed, leaning against her partner¡¯s side. ?Thank you, my wings. Did you learn what you wanted??
?Yes¡? Ghorrah said uncertainly. ?According to the human, first your bones would need to be¡cut, and then be allowed to heal in the proper position.? Jooral flinched despite Ghorrah¡¯s delicate tone, and she guardedly folded her broken limb more closely against her back. ?He said that humans have things that would make you fall into a deep-sleep, so you would not feel anything,? Ghorrah quickly added reassuringly.
?They can do that?? Jooral asked, a bit of her curiosity shining through her hesitance. ?I suppose that should not be surprising; it sounds like alcohol, but stronger.?
?Yes, that is true. He also said he does not know when humans will learn enough to be able to fix your wing, but it should not take more than ten years.?
?He told me that yesterday,? Jooral sighed. ?At least he seems to be honest; if he were lying then he would have promised a shorter time.?
?Then¡? Ghorrah said slowly. ?Does that mean¡??
Jooral sighed, looking up at the skies. ?This morning before you left, you asked me if I missed flying. I thought about it while you were gone, and I found that I had no answer. Eventually I realized that¡I remember flying, but I am not sure if I remember how it felt, or if I only think I remember how it felt,? she admitted, her deep voice quavering. ?Can I miss something I do not remember??
?I do not know,? Ghorrah said, and wrapped Jooral in a tight embrace. ¡°But it does not matter, because you will fly again,? she hissed, resolute. ?And when that day comes, you can tell me the answer to that question.?
Jooral pulled her head back to look Ghorrah in the eyes, her jaws parted in a sad smile. ?I asked you not to make any ridiculous promises, but you never listen,? she sighed, though her eyes were devoid of any anger.
?Of course not,? Ghorrah snorted gently. ?Why would I, when I make them for you??
¡°I don¡¯t mean to interrupt,¡± Pryce said into the period of awkward silence. ¡°But can we make our promise now?¡±
?Yes, we are in agreement,? Ghorrah said, and padded over to Pryce.
¡°I thought I would be making the promise to Jooral,¡± Pryce said, eyebrow raised.
¡°No, Ghorrah is the one helping you, so you are making the promise to her that you will try and heal Jooral,¡± Fathom explained.
¡°I guess that makes sense,¡± Pryce said. ¡°And just so we¡¯re clear, you know we might need to spend a few days looking for the ship, right?¡± He asked Ghorrah.
Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.
?Yes, of course I know that. Jooral is more than capable of living by herself for a few days,¡± Ghorrah snorted. ?On the ground, she is a better hunter than me.?
¡°Alright, that¡¯s good to know,¡± Pryce said, taking a deep breath before reciting the promise he had prepared in his mind. ¡°If you help us locate the rescue crew, then I promise I will learn how to fix a broken wing, and then do my best to heal her.¡± It was a bit of a mouthful, but he felt it was best to cover his bases.
Ghoorah listened to the translation and spent some time thinking over the translation. ?Are you certain you have repeated his words correctly?? She asked Fathom.
Fathom huffed in irritation. ?Of course I have.?
?Then that is acceptable,? Ghorrah said with a nod that abruptly stopped.
?...What is it?? Fathom asked as she tilted her head in bemusement.
?I just realized that he is¡a little small to make a promise with,? Ghorrah said, glancing at Pryce¡¯s tiny human hands.
¡°Is something wrong?¡± Pryce asked Fathom.
¡°We just realized it will be difficult for her to make a promise with you,¡± Fathom said, flicking his spines in mild consternation. ¡°Normally, for a promise like this, the one who is first to offer something holds their left arm forwards with the palm facing up,¡± he explained. ¡°The other grabs that hand with the same arm, palm facing down.¡±
Pryce saw the difficulty in executing this act, but deciding to try anyway he lifted his left arm palm up, as if he were offering something. Ghoorah seemed doubtful, but she carefully reciprocated the gesture so as to not rake his skin.
She awkwardly held it there for a few moments, then lifted it away.
¡°Is¡is it done?¡± Pryce asked uncertainly.
?Is it done?? Fathom asked Ghoorah, who nodded dubiously. ¡°Yes,¡± he relayed back to Pryce.
¡°...I assume it works better when two dragons do it,¡± Pryce said, feeling a bit disappointed with this anticlimax.
¡°Yes, your hand is too small,¡± Fathom said, then asked Celeste to demonstrate with him. They clasped hands from opposite arms, three fingers on top with the ¡®pinky¡¯ and thumb fingers interlocking. ¡°It is supposed to represent a¡connection, or giving something away,¡± he explained.
Pryce held his chin as he studied the gesture. ¡°It¡¯s interesting that dragons do something similar to humans.¡±
¡°You grab hands like this?¡± Fathom asked, surprised.
¡°You do it when you meet someone for the first time, but you also do it when you agree to trade something,¡± Pryce explained, then had to spend a minute awkwardly directing Fathom and Celeste to do a handshake, which they weren¡¯t able to do very well due to the structure of their hands.
¡°That¡¯s kind of what it looks like,¡± Pryce said, shrugging in defeat.
¡°I assume it works better when two humans do it,¡± Fathom echoed.
¡°Why¡humans do this?¡± Celeste asked in English. ¡°This is not¡like¡the action of giving something, is it?¡± Celeste asked, swapping languages when her vocabulary proved insufficient.
¡°I¡don¡¯t know, actually,¡± Pryce frowned. ¡°It¡¯s a very old gesture, but I¡¯m not sure why people started doing it¡we use hands for everything, so it makes sense to grab each other¡¯s hands as a gesture. If someone falls down we also help them up by grabbing their hand, so maybe that¡¯s it,¡± he mused.
¡°Do humans fall down often?¡± Fathom asked dubiously.
¡°Sometimes; it¡¯s easy to fall over when you only have two legs.¡±
?...are you sure we can trust him?? Ghorrah sighed when this had been translated for her, making Fathom bristle in secondhand offense.
?Well, you did not offer anything of great value, so we do not have much to lose,? Jooral shrugged. ?I am surprised he agreed to do so much for so little.?
?He would have done it even if you did not agree to help him,? Fathom said a little smugly.
?That is ridiculous, no one would do so much for nothing in return¡would he?? Jooral asked, more confused than disbelieving.
Ghorrah was silent for a moment, looking as if she were recalling something. ?...Why would he do that??
?He likes doing things like that,? Fathom shrugged. ?That is just who he is.?
?Well, even if they are strange, the important part is that they are going to help us,? Celeste said optimistically as she turned to Jooral. ?If you don¡¯t remember what it is like to fly, then it will be like doing it for the first time again, right??
?...Yes, I suppose that is a good way of thinking about it,? Jooral chuckled, tilting her head in a draconic smile. ?I think I am starting to believe this is possible¡it is a strange feeling.?
?I know what you mean,? Ghorrah rumbled. ?Something like this is normally impossible. It is strange to talk about it as if it were, even if he has proven that he can do it.?
?This is not customary, but I am grateful to you, Pryce,? Jooral said, bowing her head. ?Even in my dreams I no longer fly, so I am glad to have this hope, even if you do not succeed.?
¡°You¡¯re welcome, and I will do my best,¡± Pryce said. ¡°That reminds me, I think now is a good time for me to ask a favor from the two of you.¡±
?Both of us? There is nothing much I can do for you that Huroumh and Ahnoumh cannot, unless you would like me to make something?? Jooral asked, tilting her head while Ghorrah looked a little surprised.
¡°It is nothing like that,¡± Pryce said, shaking his head. ¡°I cannot properly say Draconic words, so I am unable to say your names. Could you let me give you both a name that I can say?¡±
The elder dragons shared a glance and shifted uncomfortably.
?Names are¡important,? Jooral said civilly.
?Now that I think about it, I have never heard you use any of our names,? Ghorrah noted with a tilt of her head.
¡°¡I have,¡± Pryce admitted, ¡°but the closest sound I can make just doesn¡¯t sound like any of your names.¡±
?Could you try again?? Jooral entreated.
Pryce sighed. ¡°Jooral. Ghorrah,¡± he said, pointing at each dragon as he said their names.
The two older dragons shared a glance, their spines flattened.
?What name would you give us?? Jooral asked.
Pryce muttered under his breath as Fathom stifled a suspiciously amused noise. ¡°I was going to name Jooral ¡®Fortitude¡¯ and Ghoorah ¡®Devotion¡¯. Fortitude is what someone has when they are hurt but do not give up. Devotion is what someone has when they do not give up on someone or something.¡±
Jooral tilted her head in surprise. ?You are giving us names that already have meanings??
¡°Yes, that is what humans do,¡± Pryce explained.
?Such strange creatures,? Ghoorah muttered. ?At least this ¡®For-ti-tude¡¯ describes Jooral well,? she admitted, sounding out the unfamiliar word.
?Yes, and Dev-o-tion is an appropriate name for you,? Jooral said. ?This is a better option than the alternative.?
?Then do you accept these names?? Fathom asked.
?It is an easy choice,? Ghorrah ¨C now Devotion ¨C shrugged and glanced at Fortitude, who nodded. ?He may use these words instead of our names.?
¡°Excellent,¡± Pryce said, nodding in relief. ¡°I¡¯m so glad to be using words I can actually say again.¡±
?Did he give you two names?? Devotion asked interestedly.
?Yes, my human-name is ¡®Fathom¡¯, it means ¡®understanding¡¯.?
?And mine is ¡®Celeste¡¯, it means ¡®sky¡¯.?
?¡®Sky¡¯ is a thing, and not a personality trait like our names, is there a reason for this?? Fortitude asked.
Pryce explained a bit of how he and Fathom planned to meet Celeste, and that meant giving her an English name. ¡°Fathom, Fortitude, and Devotion, are human words, but they are not human names. Celeste is a rare human name, so I thought it would be alright to give her that name.¡±
¡°I did not think of this before, but when you say ¡®human names¡¯, do you mean there are different humans who have the same name? Fathom asked curiously.
¡°It is not rare for one human to have the same first or last name as another, but it is very rare for two people to have the same first and last names.¡±
¡°I guess this makes sense if there are 50 million humans, but dragon names are all different; it feels wrong to have two people with the same name,¡± Fathom snorted.
¡°A lot of human names don¡¯t sound like they fit a dragon, I¡¯m trying to give them good names that describe them well.¡±
Fathom blinked, then nodded in approval at this justification before translating it for the others.
¡°And speaking of meanings, I think it¡¯s time to teach you all how to talk to humans,¡± Pryce smiled.
?It will be useful to be able to speak and listen to humans without the help of another,? Devotion admitted with a lackadaisical air.
¡°Alright, great teacher,¡± Pryce grinned as he gestured to Fathom, ¡°time to teach.¡±
¡°We¡¯re supposed to teach together!¡± Fathom hissed indignantly as Pryce sat cross-legged on the ground.
¡°You already know all the words they need to know, and it¡¯s not like I can do anything to help; I can¡¯t say any Draconic words, remember?¡± Pryce asked, completely undaunted by the daggers Fathom glared at him as he sat down on a nearby rock.
He snickered as Fathom muttered something unintelligible. It was probably profane, judging by the gradient of amused reactions the three females expressed.
Later, Fathom and Celeste landed by a river and immediately thrust their muzzles into the cold mountain water.
¡°I¡¯m surprised, you taught them well,¡± Pryce complimented, which Fathom acknowledged by the twitch of his spines. Fortitude and Devotion had quickly caught up to Celeste; for the first few minutes she only listened while Fathom went over the basics of human language, but then she started teaching what she knew, which lightened the burden on her father, though she did require the occasional correction.
The two older dragons had surprised Pryce with the speed with which they learned, though they were not quite as fast as Fathom and Celeste, their progress was still prodigious by human standards.
¡°Not fair, you didn¡¯t help,¡± he pouted as he pulled his head up. ¡°Today might have been the day that I spoke the most words in my life.¡±
¡°Me too,¡± Celeste said, though she had not spoken quite as much as her father.
¡°To be fair, I did help whenever I could.¡±
¡°That wasn¡¯t much,¡± Fathom snorted, tossing his head. ¡°Let¡¯s fly back to the cave, I still need to beat Celeste¡¯s hunting time,¡± he said, a competitive edge to his voice.
¡°You can do this tomorrow¡when you are less¡tired,¡± Celeste offered, almost genuinely.
Fathom roundly ignored this jab, and only gave Pryce a few seconds of warning before he leapt into the skies. A minute later they landed, and Pryce retrieved the chronometer as per Fathom¡¯s request.
¡°It is 5:45 PM right¡now,¡± Pryce said.
¡°I will be back soon,¡± Fathom called out before taking off.
Celeste watched her father fly off for a few seconds, then turned to eye the shiny device in Pryce¡¯s hands.
¡°What is that?¡±
¡°It has been 9 minutes and 10 seconds, you took 10 minutes 21 seconds to hunt those two animals, so he has one minute left to beat your time¡now,¡± Pryce said, having mostly finished explaining the function of the chronometer, to Celeste.
¡°That is amazing, like it is alive,¡± Celeste said, reminding Pryce of Fathom¡¯s own reaction. ¡°I do not see him,¡± she said, tearing her eyes off of the device to peer around on her back legs, her head turning about like a periscope used in armored vehicles. ?Wait¡there he is,? she said a few seconds later, pointing at a vaguely dragon-shaped object in the sky.
¡°Thirty seconds,¡± Pryce said. ¡°Twenty seconds¡ten seconds¡¡± he counted down as Fathom approached, he was close now, but it didn¡¯t look like he would make it. ¡°Nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one, and zero,¡± he called out over Fathom¡¯s wing flaps as they steadily increased in volume. ¡°Looks like you win,¡± he said to Celeste, who curled her tail around herself smugly as her father landed roughly onto the ground, dropping three of the same creatures as his daughter had caught ¨C though each individual specimen was noticeably smaller.
¡°I counted 52 beats, how many minutes and seconds has it been?¡± Fathom asked urgently once he spat out the rodent-like creature in his jaws.
¡°You took 10 minutes 33 seconds, 12 seconds more than Celeste,¡± Pryce said, making Fathom droop as Celeste preened.
¡°...I caught one more,¡± he protested weakly.
?The rule was ¡®the one who finishes hunting enough food for the both of us in less time wins¡¯, not who could catch more,? Celeste nearly sang as she tore into her rodent. ?It seems I win, father.?
?Nothing was around for me to hunt,? Fathom huffed, ?but¡you did beat me,? he admitted somewhat ungraciously, though that did not seem to matter at all to Celeste. If anything, she seemed to glow with joy.
¡°Why did you catch three when two would have been enough?¡± Pryce asked.
¡°Two would not have been enough, they are too small,¡± Fathom mumbled disgruntledly as he nibbled on his own food. Pryce raised an eyebrow at this, but Fathom discreetly shook his head while Celeste started on her half of the catch.
¡°Did you hunt three of those animals to let Celeste win?¡± Pryce asked later, when the dragon in question had left to get a drink of water.
¡°No,¡± Fathom said vehemently, surprising Pryce. ¡°I would never do that to her; it is very insulting to let someone else win,¡± he said, chastising.
¡°Sorry,¡± Pryce said, raising his hands placatingly. ¡°Humans don¡¯t like other people letting them win either, but I thought that was what you were shaking your head about.¡±
¡°I wasn¡¯t sure what you wanted to ask, but I didn¡¯t want you to make her think I might have let her win. We both followed the rules we agreed on, and she won. She did have good wind, but that is part of winning.¡±
¡°Right, okay, I won¡¯t tell her anything about that,¡± Pryce said a little shamefacedly. ¡°What did you mean by good wind?¡± He asked, after a moment. ¡°It wasn¡¯t very windy yesterday, and it¡¯s not very windy today either.¡±
¡°Wind is like luck. We call things someone cannot control ¡®wind¡¯,¡± Fathom explained a little shortly.
¡°...understood."
Awkward silence filled the air.
¡°I am not mad,¡± Fathom finally sighed, ¡°I can see why you would think I did that, but there is no reason to let someone win; a win is only a win if it is earned,¡± he said in a lecturing tone that made Pryce wonder if that was something taught by his parents. Fathom paused for a moment, then added in a more humorous tone, ¡°The only time you should let someone win is if they are a hatchling or a young dragonet.¡±
¡°I guess dragons play with their children too, huh?¡± Pryce chuckled, relieved to see he had not given too much offense. ¡°...you should tell her,¡± he said, though it came out more abruptly than he had intended.
¡°Tell her what?¡± Fathom asked, bemused by the non sequitur.
¡°That you¡¯re proud of her,¡± Pryce clarified.
¡°But she already knows that,¡± Fathom said, tilting his head in confusion.
¡°Does she? You didn¡¯t say it, did you?¡± Pryce asked, raising an eyebrow. He was fairly certain that he grasped most of their conversation, and he hadn¡¯t heard Fathom say anything like that.
¡°She knows. A parent admitting that their child has beaten them is a parent saying they are proud,¡± Fathom explained, dismissing Pryce¡¯s concerns. ¡°You saw how happy she was, didn¡¯t you?¡±
¡°That¡¯s true, but¡sometimes it¡¯s important to say something, even if the person you¡¯re talking to already knows it.¡±
Fathom scoffed at this. ¡°That doesn¡¯t make any sense, why would you say something that the other person knows?¡±
¡°It would make her happy, wouldn¡¯t it?¡±
¡°Yes, but...that feels like it would be awkward. I think that is more of a human thing,¡± Fathom said doubtfully just as Celeste entered his line of sight, having walked back to the cave on foot.
?What are you talking about?? She asked once she had closed the distance.
¡°Nothing important,¡± Fathom said indifferently as he pointedly glanced at Pryce.
Later, Celeste laid beneath Fathom¡¯s wing just as she had the night before, her breaths steadily slowing as she slipped into unconsciousness. Fathom had been mulling over Pryce¡¯s advice, and before she fully fell asleep, he decided to trust in him one more time.
?You have grown up well, I am¡very proud of you,? Fathom whispered abruptly. Celeste¡¯s head was curled under her wing, so he could not even tell if she had heard his awkward affirmation.
Seconds passed, and Fathom was beginning to deeply regret this mortifying decision when Celeste shifted and curled herself more tightly against his side.
?...Thank you,? was all she mumbled, the two words spoken stiffly and awkwardly, but that did not matter at all. Fathom quietly breathed a sigh of relief, feeling inexplicably lighter as he wrapped his wing more tightly around his daughter until they both drifted off to sleep.
[JOURNAL ENTRY]
Day 84,
Good news: Jooral and Ghorrah have accepted the English names Fortitude and Devotion.
Better news: Devotion has agreed to assist us in return for repairing Fortitude¡¯s wing sometime in the future.
Fathom spent the rest of the day teaching the three of them English, and they¡¯re making great progress. All three should be sufficiently fluent by the time the rescue ship arrives.
As for their competition, Fathom ended up losing to Celeste by 12 seconds. Despite his discontent, Fathom was still proud of Celeste for beating him. I asked if he had let her win, but he took great offense to that; apparently it is very insulting for a dragon to go easy on another. I better keep that in mind.
We haven¡¯t brought it up to the others yet, but Fathom and I are going to go back to his territory tomorrow to check up on things. I¡¯ll synthesize more penicillin while I¡¯m there, so we should be back by the day after tomorrow.
Weird thought: I¡¯ve been thinking of certain draconic behaviors as ¡®human-like¡¯, but their species could very well be older than humanity¡it might be more accurate to say certain human behaviors are ¡®dragon-like¡¯.
Chapter 48, Day 85: Return
?You are leaving?? Jooral asked, surprised.
?Yes, I need to check on my territory, and Pryce wants to check on his ship,? Fathom said. ?Ahnoumh is coming with us, and we should be back sometime tomorrow, maybe the day after that.?
¡°Tomorrow?¡± Fortitude blinked. ?It will not take much time just to visit your territory, why would you come back tomorrow and not today??
?Pryce has things he wants to do, and things to show us.?
Fortitude hid her disappointment well, but not well enough. Pryce gave her golden ring a contemplative glance, and said, ¡°When we come back, I¡¯ll have a gift for you.¡±
Fathom seemed a bit surprised, and Fortitude cocked her head upon hearing Fathom¡¯s translation. ?What is it? Is it more alcohol? Or a weighing machine??
¡°I can¡¯t tell you that; gifts are supposed to be surprises.¡±
Fortitude stared at him, and blinked. ?This is not¡some kind of human courtship, is it??
¡°Why are you laughing?¡± Pryce asked, but Fathom only shook his head and declined to answer while Devotion flicked her eyelids at her partner¡¯s antics.
?Ghorrah, would you like to go with them?? Fortitude suddenly asked.
?Of course not,? Devotion snorted. ?Why would I do that??
?I know you want to see this ¡®ship¡¯ of his. Go see it, and you can come back to tell me about it.? Devotion grumbled a protest, but Fortitude only said, ?I can handle being alone for a few days, or do you think otherwise??
Devotion sighed, and accepted her defeat.
¡°Actually, I wanted to ask if I could bring the ship here,¡± Pryce said, having understood enough to get the gist of their dialogue.
?Bring it here?? Fortitude blinked. ?Wait, if you could do that, then why did you have to fly with him??
¡°We didn¡¯t know if you wanted us to bring it here.¡± Fuel was also a concern, but there was no need to explain that yet.
The two elder dragons looked to each other, contemplating this information for a few moments before nodding in sync.
?Very well, you may bring your ship here. Where will you place it??
¡°Good question, will any dragons see it if I leave it on the closest beach?¡± Pryce asked Fathom.
¡°Yes. Dragons will be flying to the solstice celebration soon, and most of us follow the coastline, so someone will definitely see it.¡±
¡°Alright, I¡¯ll bring the ship to the beach so Fortitude can see it, but then I¡¯ll have to leave it out on the ocean so no one will be able to find it.¡±
¡°Will the ship not¡float away?¡± Celeste asked.
¡°The ship stays in place using big pieces of metal attached to chains,¡± Pryce explained. Of course, the anchors wouldn¡¯t work if the ocean was too deep, but that shouldn¡¯t be a problem if they were only five or ten kilometers out. ¡°Please tell Fortitude that we¡¯ll be back sometime tomorrow, probably near sunset. Once we return, someone can let her know we¡¯re here.¡±
Fortitude nodded, satisfied. ?I will be waiting.?
?If the ship will be here anyway, then there is no need for me to go with them, right?? Devotion asked hopefully.
Fortitude tossed her head in annoyance. ?Just go with them. It is not healthy to sit around for so long; I have an excuse, you do not.?
Devotion only shrugged, as if she hadn¡¯t really expected to change her mind. ?Are we leaving now?? She asked Fathom, who nodded in response.
They took off soon afterwards with Fortitude waving her unbroken wing in farewell. Pryce was a little surprised that dragons had that same gesture mapped to a different limb, but he realized it was only natural that someone would wave a flag-like appendage to get another¡¯s attention.
The dragons flew perhaps fifty meters apart in a wedge formation, with Fathom in the lead. Pryce privately wondered if it was safe to leave her alone, but he didn¡¯t want to offend her by asking. Now, the distance between dragons afforded enough privacy for him to ask, ¡°Is it okay to leave her behind? What if another dragon comes and tries to challenge her?¡±
Fathom rumbled in amusement. ¡°You don¡¯t need to worry about her. A few have tried, but I have never heard of her losing a fight on the ground,¡± he replied, speaking quietly so that none of the others could hear.
¡°Oh,¡± Pryce said, surprised to learn the artistic dragon was such a capable combatant. ¡°But what if a dragon tries to fight her in the air?¡±
¡°That is very dishonorable, no one would want to fight a dragon who can¡¯t fly,¡± Fathom said, snorting in disdain. ¡°Well¡almost no one. There was one who tried to challenge her, three hundred years ago.¡±
¡°What happened?¡±
¡°Fortitude agreed to a death-fight, and then walked into a forest. The other dragon couldn¡¯t follow without giving up her advantage, so she eventually went home. After that, Fortitude found out where the other dragon lived, and then killed her in her own home.¡±
Pryce was getting used to the prevalent violence in draconic culture, but still he had some difficulty in reconciling these merciless actions with the rather easygoing Fortitude.
¡°That wasn¡¯t dishonorable of her,¡± Fathom said, mistaking his silence for disapproval. ¡°The other dragon was already a coward, and she was an idiot to go home without agreeing to end the fight.¡±
¡°I¡see,¡± Pryce said, frowning. ¡°Do you know why she challenged Fortitude?¡±
¡°I heard it was because she wanted to make art too, but she wasn¡¯t as good as Fortitude, so she wanted to kill the competition,¡± Fathom said, tossing his head. ¡°But she really was an idiot; if Fortitude hadn¡¯t killed her, Devotion definitely would have.¡±
It made sense that only capable combatants survived so long, but it still surprised Pryce to hear they were so respected. ¡°So who¡¯s the better fighter? You, or Devotion?¡±
¡°Males rarely fight females,¡± Fathom rumbled, avoiding the question. ¡°I told you before, males can fly better, but females are stronger. It is not a fair fight because we fight differently.¡±
That was an odd way of looking at it. It was interesting to think that neither held a true advantage over the other in combat. ¡°Okay, are there any females who could beat her?¡±
¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± Fathom replied, with a tone that implied he would have shrugged his wings if he wasn¡¯t currently flying. ¡°Old dragons are not always stronger than young dragons, but only strong dragons survive to become old. Unless they don¡¯t fight much,¡± he amended. ¡°Right now there are only sixteen females who are older than her, and many of them are not as good at fighting as she is.¡±
¡°Impressive,¡± Pryce said. ¡°I¡¯ll do my best to not make her mad.¡±
¡°Good idea.¡±
?What are you talking about?? Celeste called out from her position in the left flank.
?Pryce just had some questions about Ghorrah,? Fathom said, checking that the dragon in question wasn¡¯t close enough to hear them. ?Did you have something to ask??
?I was thinking we could go see the bubblemakers; there is a lake nearby with lots of them.?
¡°See what?¡± Pryce asked, not recognizing a few words.
¡°There are some plants that live on the surface of water, we call them something like ¡®bubblemakers¡¯. They only make bubbles for a month around the time of the summer solstice, so they will be starting soon.¡±
¡°I¡¯d love to see that,¡± Pryce said, but then his smile faltered. ¡°Do dragons like to watch these bubbles?¡±
¡°Of course, they can be very beautiful at the right time of day.¡±
¡°Then I can¡¯t go see them without being seen by other dragons, can I?¡± Pryce sighed.
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¡°...yes, you are right,¡± Fathom rumbled, and summarized their conversation to Celeste and Devotion.
?Why is he afraid of being seen by other dragons?? The latter asked.
?He wants to talk to as many dragons as he can at once, that way less of us will go around spreading false rumors,? Fathom answered without consulting Pryce; he had asked the very same question before. ?If someone sees him and flies away, we cannot control what they tell others.?
?Then he is correct,? Devotion rumbled, satisfied with this explanation. ?If things go well, you can see them after this second ship arrives.?
?I understand,? Celeste sighed. ?It is better to see them at their peak anyway.?
¡°Something to look forward to, then,¡± Pryce said, settling himself in for the long flight.
¡°Look forward to?¡± Fathom asked.
¡°It means something you want to see. Humans think of the future as ahead of us, so we ¡®look forward¡¯ when we want to see something.¡±
¡°...makes sense,¡± Fathom hummed after a moment¡¯s consideration. ¡°I am looking forward to meeting other humans.¡±
Fathom followed the coastline, using the same route they took five days ago. Four hours of idle chatter later, and they made it back to his territory.
¡°Cover your ears,¡± Fathom warned shortly before belting out a deafening roar.
¡°It¡¯s your territory, why do you have to announce your arrival?¡± Pryce asked, a little annoyed by the short notice.
¡°It gives trespassers one last chance to run away, or to roar back and tell me who they are,¡± Fathom explained. ¡°This way-¡±
?Is that the ship? That thing is huge!? Celeste cried, interrupting Fathom.
Devotion was less vocal, though she stared wide-eyed for several moments. ?I know you said it was large, but this¡?
¡°It took a lot of people a long time to make,¡± Pryce said, smiling as Fathom descended. The Horizon was still his home despite the terrible circumstances that brought him to this point, and he was glad to see that had been left untouched in his absence.
Celeste dove down ahead of her father to be the first upon the beach. Devotion was less enthusiastic, though she was not far behind Fathom either. Pryce unbuckled himself and landed on the sandy beach, cringing as the blood rushed back into his legs.
Low pinging noises echoed through the ship as Celeste tapped a talon against the hull. Devotion approached it more cautiously, as if it was a behemoth that might suddenly awaken.
?I have never seen anything so smooth and flat. It is very strange,? Celeste noted in a fascinated tone as she continued her inspection of the ship.
¡°I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve seen anyone use a ship as an instrument before,¡± Pryce chuckled as she tapped out an impromptu rhythm, though they all cringed when she drew a talon along the side of the hull.
?That sounded almost like a scream,? Devotion huffed, her spines flattened. ?This thing is not alive, is it??
?No, the ship is definitely dead,? Fathom reassured, though he too was surprised by the dreadful noise. ?I will go and smell if anyone has been sneaking around, I will be back soon,? he said, and repeated this in English to Pryce.
¡°Alright, I¡¯ll get started on making the penicillin,¡± Pryce said, opening the hatch and stepping into the ship, conscious of the curious gazes on his back. He had just picked up a siphon when the two of them peered into the ship, blocking most of the sunlight that would have illuminated the cargo hold. ¡°Would a little sunlight be too much to ask?¡± he sighed, though the two dragons paid him no mind; they were too busy staring at all the shiny glassware and tools that laid strewn about the hold. He glanced at the pitifully small porthole windows ¨C none of them were facing the sun.
A bit of broken English later Pryce was able to get the two of them to lower their heads ¨C at least enough to give him a decent amount of light.
¡°What is this¡things?¡± Celeste asked, gesturing with her head while Devotion only continued to stare in silence.
¡°Complicated.¡±
¡°Why?¡±
Pryce responded with a helpless shrug. ¡°Wait for Fathom.¡±
Celeste grunted in dissatisfaction, then looked up and tilted her head as if she were eyeballing something. Pryce watched as she suddenly ran up the mountain, turned around, then leapt into a glide that gracefully carried her onto the deck of the ship ¨C at least judging by the surprisingly quiet thud she made.
?You could have just jumped,? Devotion said, tossing her head at the younger dragon''s antics before she clambered aboard with a wing-assisted jump.
?This way was more fun,? Celeste said, her rich voice emanating from the deck as she continued to pad about. ?Everything really is so straight and smooth.?
¡°Don¡¯t break anything,¡± Pryce called out, despite knowing neither of the two would understand. At least they seemed to be having fun exploring. ¡°If you want, I can teach you about the ship when I¡¯m done working.¡±
¡°I see things first,¡± Celeste said, by which Pryce assumed she meant ¡°I¡¯ll look around for now.¡± Heavy footsteps thudded about the deck, and Pryce smiled as he imagined her running around inspecting everything in sight. He heard her ask questions like, ?What do you think this does?? and ?How do you think they made this?? and ?What is this made out of? I have never seen anything like it,? to which Devotion could only give exasperated, faintly amused answers.
Fathom returned a few minutes later and reported that there were no traces of any trespassers. ¡°Someone could have seen the ship and chosen not to land, but at least everything in my home was the same as when we left, and I didn¡¯t find the scent of any other dragons,¡± he said while Celeste leapt back down.
¡°That¡¯s good,¡± Pryce said absently, focused on diluting a quantity of phosphoric acid.
?Yes, yes, but what are these things?? Celeste blurted, gesturing to the cargo hold the moment Fathom finished speaking.
?Tools,? Fathom shrugged. ?He uses them to make human medicine.?
?Why is he making medicine?? Devotion asked, having leapt down as well.
?When I fought Ighnahr, I got sick. Pryce healed me,? Fathom summarized shortly. ?I will fight him again, so Pryce is making more medicine.?
Devotion peered into the cargo hold. ?I see no plants, what is he using to make the medicine??
?It is complicated,? Fathom shrugged, an answer which did not satisfy his daughter at all. ?At least I have a lot of time to tell you about it now, unless you would like to eat first??
?How long will we be here?? Devotion asked, looking up to gauge the amount of daylight left.
?We should be able to leave tomorrow around noon, but it depends on Pryce,? Fathom answered.
?Then let us get something to eat; it will be hard to learn while hungry,? Devotion said, and Celeste nodded in agreement.
?You two can go and hunt first, I will stay here in case another dragon comes along,? Fathom said.
¡°You don¡¯t need to stay here for me, if another dragon shows up I can just go deeper into the ship,¡± Pryce reassured. ¡°Did I understand correctly?¡±
¡°I¡yes, you did, but it doesn¡¯t feel safe leaving you alone,¡± Fathom said mulishly.
¡°I¡¯ll be fine, go spend some time with your daughter. How about if I lock the door and use lanterns for light?¡± Fathom begrudgingly accepted this precaution, and a few minutes later they all went hunting for lunch.
Alone, within the dark confines of the ship, Pryce hummed a familiar sequence of notes as he got to work.
The dragons returned scarcely half an hour later, their jaws wet and freshly cleaned. Fathom spent the afternoon teaching the other two dragons how to speak English, their sonorous voices providing a rather comforting background noise to Pryce¡¯s work.
Fathom started by teaching them the human words for the most interesting objects in their immediate line of sight. Pryce took an occasional break from the lab work to bring out some of the more interesting things he had already shown Fathom, but for the most part he remained focused upon his work.
Eventually there was a break in their lessons, and Devotion suddenly stuck her head into the cargo bay to ask, ¡°What is¡gift?¡±
¡°Gift? What gift?¡± Pryce asked, startled out of his work.
¡°Gift for Jooral ¨C Fortitude,¡± she elaborated, correcting herself to use the name Pryce had given her partner.
¡°Ah, yes, I was going to get that later, but I guess I can pack some up right now,¡± Pryce rummaged around the cargo hold and stored a select few chemicals into his backpack.
¡°What is that?¡± Devotion asked, peering curiously at his bag.
¡°It¡¯s a secret, and it¡¯s actually for you too,¡± he said, pointing at her. ¡°I just want to give it to Fortitude first since she couldn¡¯t come with us.¡±
Devotion appeared dissatisfied as she received the translation, but ultimately remained silent.
Fathom, however¡
¡°Why does she get something and I don¡¯t?¡± he demanded, spines flared in indignation.
¡°I just told you it¡¯s a secret,¡± Pryce groaned, rolling his eyes. ¡°It won¡¯t even be useful for you.¡±
¡°Why not?¡±
¡°Can¡¯t hear you, busy working.¡±
¡°That doesn¡¯t make any sense!¡±
Pryce continued to ignore him, and Fathom was forced to give up when Celeste pestered him for a translation.
Their lessons continued, and Pryce soon found himself finishing up the last batch of the day as the sun began to set. He stretched as the dragons yawned, and asked, ¡°Are you three going to be sleeping in your home?¡±
¡°Yes, Devotion can sleep in one of the nearby caves. Are you not coming with us?¡±
¡°Yeah, I think I¡¯ll sleep here. The humans back home might have changed their plans, so I want to listen to the radio in the morning without waking any of you up.¡±
Fathom nodded as he bid Pryce goodnight, which Celeste somewhat awkwardly emulated a moment later.
?What does ¡®good night¡¯ mean?? Devotion asked, and Fathom rumbled about it being a human thing as the three of them leisurely strolled up the mountain.
Pryce smiled as he locked the hatch shut, glad to see the three of them getting along better than before.
Half an hour later he was back in his room, ready to go to sleep. He had been looking forward to sleeping in a hammock again ¨C even if cushioned by a sleeping bag, hard rock didn¡¯t make for the best mattress ¨C but as he turned in for the night, he found himself missing the rhythmic, comforting sound of a dragon¡¯s deep breathing.
[JOURNAL ENTRY]
Day 85,
Well, I¡¯m back ¡®home¡¯ with two more dragons in tow. Things are coming along nicely.
Tomorrow I¡¯ll finish synthesizing the rest of the broth, make a new batch, then pilot the ship back to Fortitude & Devotion¡¯s territory. The sun sets at around 6:28 pm, and it should take the ship about 4 hours to travel 160 kilometers, so I¡¯ll leave at noon to give myself two and half hours of leeway ¨C I¡¯m not exactly eager to steer a ship in the darkness of night.
Once that¡¯s done all that¡¯s left is to teach them English until it¡¯s time to intercept the rescue team.
Note: 40.48 grams of penicillin synthesized.
Total quantity of penicillin-G produced: 135.36 grams.
Chapter 49, Day 86, Part 1: Trespasser
Pryce received the radio message early in the morning, as expected. He was relieved to hear that it hadn¡¯t changed, since the rescue ship probably wouldn¡¯t be delayed so close to launch.
Once he confirmed the viability of his plan, he got to work on synthesizing the rest of the mold broth. Pryce chipped away at this task until he heard Fathom¡¯s footsteps outside on the beach.
¡°Do you still say ¡®good morning¡¯ if we have not just woken up?¡± Fathom asked, his brassy voice easily audible through the steel door.
¡°Yes, and good morning to you too,¡± Pryce said once he opened the hatch. ¡°Did anything interesting happen?¡±
¡°No,¡± Fathom replied, shaking his head. ¡°How long until you finish with this batch of antibiotics?¡±
Pryce shrugged. ¡°Four or five more hours, why?¡±
¡°The others want to know when you¡¯ll start moving the ship. I also came to tell you that we¡¯re going hunting, and that we¡¯ll be back soon. Don¡¯t forget to lock the hatch.¡±
¡°Don¡¯t worry, I will,¡± Pryce sighed. The portholes allowed some amount of fresh air to flow into the hold, but the room was still stuffy and unpleasant without the open hatch. Only an imbecile would risk leaving the door open for creature comforts, but he would still miss the cool morning air.
Pryce closed the hatch after they both said their short farewells, though Fathom only left after he heard the heavy clunk of the lock sliding shut. A few moments later Pryce heard the wingbeats of several dragons fading into the distance.
With no distractions left to bother him, Pryce quickly re-immersed himself within his task, though the inadequate lighting strained his eyes a little. Just as he was to consider taking a break, he heard wingbeats. Returning wingbeats.
He frowned at that. Was that only one set of wings? Did someone forget something? No, that didn¡¯t make much sense, dragons only occasionally used rocks to hunt, and those could be found anywhere.
Pryce quickly closed each porthole window, anticipating the worst. He braced his back against the hatch to peer outside, and through the small window he was able to see a great shadow pass over the beach.
He tore his gaze away from the window, and after a moment of indecision hid under the nearest table. A second later he realized he would be visible if the dragon looked inside the right portholes, so he laid face-down and covered his upper body with his lab coat. There was no time to get anything else to cover his feet and legs, so he would just have to hope that his pants and shoes would make his lower body unrecognizable as part of a living being.
Then he stayed as still as he could, and listened for the sound of a dragon¡¯s landing.
But it never came. Instead, a great splash sounded from the river, the transient waves crashing against the hull of the ship. Pryce pressed his lips into a thin line. He was almost certain this dragon was an invader now, though he wasn¡¯t sure why they dove into the river first. The only sensible explanation was that the unknown dragon wanted to get rid of their scent.
That was not a reassuring hypothesis.
As bad as the situation seemed, he wasn¡¯t in any mortal danger; not even a dragon could hurt him with the thick hull standing between them. Abruptly, he realized that wasn¡¯t the real threat, and that Fathom could hear a heartbeat if he cupped his wings around his head. Was three centimeters of steel enough to keep this dragon from hearing him?
He couldn¡¯t take any steps without alerting the dragon to his presence, not when they were standing right next to the Horizon. Pryce forced himself to take deep, quiet breaths, and regretted not having hid further in the ship¡¯s depths.
All he could do at the moment was to force himself to lay as still as possible while his imagination ran wild. Sand didn¡¯t make much noise even when subjected to a dragon¡¯s footsteps, so he was a little startled when a tapping noise echoed throughout the ship. As he laid on the floor, he remembered that dragons were supposed to announce their arrival into another¡¯s territory. Not only that, but this dragon had also appeared mere minutes after the others departed; that was no coincidence.
This one was a trespasser.
The dragon continued to give the hull experimental taps and scratches. They also tapped and scratched at the windows a few times, though there didn¡¯t seem to be an effort to break them. The sounds stopped when the dragon scraped the hull, inadvertently making the same dreadful screeching noise Celeste had stumbled upon the day before.
Then, silence.
Pryce was almost beginning to wonder if the invader had wandered off when a creaking noise sounded from somewhere higher up along the hull, several floors above him. In the end he couldn¡¯t resist, and lifted the lab coat to see a glimpse of green scales outside the porthole.
He immediately re-buried himself.
He couldn¡¯t tell which part of their body he¡¯d just seen, but this dragon ¨C who he decided to call Trespasser ¨C had to have been standing up on his hind legs to lean against the hull. That was the only explanation that made sense, and a few moments later the hull creaked, and Pryce felt a dull thud through the floor as the dragon presumably landed back on all fours.
A breath later he heard a whump and a hiss as grains of sand pattered against the hull of the ship ¨C the tell-tale sound of a dragon leaping into the air. Relief flooded Pryce for precisely three seconds until a heavy thud resounded from the deck of the ship.
Pryce bit back a curse, and settled for quietly exhaling through his nose. He had no idea what he could possibly do in this situation, save for the obvious solution of waiting for Fathom to return. The three of them had left five, maybe ten minutes ago, and probably wouldn¡¯t be back for another ten.
In other words, he was in for a long wait.
Pryce considered various options as he sat in the cargo hold, but all of them were discarded for the simple reason that any kind of confrontation was a terrible idea. His backpack sat right next to the door, so he had access to his rifle, but that wouldn¡¯t be helpful until Fathom and the others returned.
Trespasser wandered around the deck of the ship for what felt like an eternity, until they started banging on the door. Oddly enough, the impacts weren¡¯t very violent ¨C almost as if he weren¡¯t trying to break down the door. But that didn¡¯t make much sense, what other explanation was there? It wasn¡¯t like there was anything near the door, and the only thing on the door was¡the handle.
The shiny brass handle.
A decisive thud echoed from the deck, and the rapid clomping of hurried steps preceded a great splash that Pryce felt through the floor of the cargo hold. The painful silence made it difficult to tell what happened next, but half a minute later he heard the distinct sound of a dragon taking off followed by gradually fading wingbeats, and he rushed to a porthole window to see a green figure winging off in a southwestern direction.
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Pryce was about to open the door when he paused. This wasn¡¯t an elaborate trick, was it? What if there were two dragons working together, and one of them had swam through the river to wait in ambush? Fathom had told him that dragons didn¡¯t work together much, but there was nothing to be gained by going outside now, even if he was itching to look for whatever traces Trespasser left behind.
So he picked up the chronometer and waited. He waited for one minute, then two. It was only until three minutes had passed that he allowed himself to relax. It could still be a trap, but he felt comfortable enough to crack open a window, just enough so that he could hear any approaching wingbeats. Pryce didn¡¯t bother resuming his work; he knew the others would be back soon.
Sure enough, the three of them appeared from the east scarcely five minutes later, their jaws bloodstained as usual. Fathom was in the lead, and he seemed to notice something was wrong. He called out something to the others, and they landed some distance away so as to not disturb the traces left upon the beach.
¡°Pryce?!¡± Fathom called out as he ran ¨C galloped? ¨C over to the Horizon, with Celeste trailing right behind him and Devotion walking at a fast pace.
¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± Pryce called out as he unlocked the hatch. ¡°A green dragon arrived a few minutes after you three left, they flew away south-west, I¡¯m not sure if they¡¯re male or female, and they jumped into the water before and after they left-¡± he said in a rush, checking the chronometer, ¡°-eight minutes ago!¡±
Fathom hissed as he stepped around what were presumably Trespasser¡¯s footprints ¨C Pryce wasn¡¯t sure how he could tell. ?Ahnoumh, you stay here with Pryce, Ghorrah, you fly north,? he barked.
?Do not tell me what to do, brat,? Devotion hissed. ?And that is a stupid plan; Ahnoumh can fly faster than me, it is better if she goes. I will stay here and keep him safe.?
Fathom growled in irritation, but finding no rebuke to give he launched himself into the air.
?How are we going to catch them if they left eight minutes ago?? Celeste asked, trailing after her father.
?No one is going to catch them if we all stay here,? Fathom retorted, and gave further instructions as they winged away.
It took a lot more energy for a dragon to ascend from flat ground than if they jumped off a cliff, but the two of them gained a respectable amount of altitude within a short period of time. Despite their efforts, Pryce privately doubted they could catch a dragon who had a head start, and he was fairly certain Fathom knew it too.
Pryce looked at Devotion, who was presently sniffing at one of the footprints. ¡°Can you smell anything?¡± He asked.
Devotion gave a thumbs down, not in answer to his question, but because she didn¡¯t understand the words he used. ?Smell. Very little,? she said, tapping her nostrils and making a pinching gesture.
¡°Yeah, I figured,¡± Pryce sighed, not in the mood to find it interesting how familiar her gesture for ¡®small¡¯ was. ¡°I guess we should do some investigating.¡±
Fathom and Celeste returned half an hour later, landing a bit roughly as they panted from exhaustion. Just as Pryce had anticipated, they found no trace of the green dragon.
¡°While you were gone, we found something,¡± Pryce said, and gestured to the broken doorknob.
?He cannot be very old.? Devotion snorted disdainfully. ?That fool went so far to hide his scent, and then he decided to chew something off.?
?He?? Celeste asked, before she leaned forward to sniff at the chewed stump of a door handle. ?Oh, yes, definitely male.?
¡°I don¡¯t suppose any of you recognize this scent?¡± He asked as Fathom gave it a sniff.
¡°No, I don¡¯t know who this is,¡± Fathom grumbled, dissatisfied.
?I smell greenfruit, but we already know his color,? Celeste noted.
¡°What did she say she smelled?¡± Pryce asked.
¡°...greenfruit,¡± Fathom said. ¡°That is the name of the fruit that makes a dragon green.¡±
¡°Unless it¡¯s rare, that doesn¡¯t help us locate him.¡±
¡°No, it¡¯s very common,¡± Fathom said, half-hissing, half-sighing. ¡°That coward must have been waiting for us to leave if he appeared so soon after we left.¡±
¡°Yeah, I was thinking the same thing,¡± Pryce said. ¡°And we don¡¯t know when he started watching us. He could have started following us since yesterday, or maybe he just hid in your territory when we arrived.¡±
¡°Yes,¡± Fathom growled, low and menacing. ¡°He did not answer my roar, which means he likes to sneak around. A dragon like that can¡¯t be trusted.¡±
Pryce waited for Fathom to echo their conversation to Celeste and Devotion. They in turn voiced their own, largely similar sentiments.
¡°One of us should have stayed here while the others went hunting,¡± Fathom grumbled as he glared at the trespasser¡¯s footprints.
¡°That wouldn¡¯t have done anything, he still would have seen the ship,¡± Pryce pointed out. ¡°I¡¯m not completely sure, but I don¡¯t think he knows I exist.¡± Fathom blinked at this news, and Pryce went on to explain how the green dragon had inspected the hull and deck of the ship without much attempt to get inside. ¡°He left behind some scratches, and I didn¡¯t have enough words to ask Devotion if these meant anything,¡± he said, pointing at some scratch marks along the side of a smokestack.
Fathom shook his head. ¡°These have no meaning, they¡¯re just normal scratches.¡±
¡°So we have nothing to go off of,¡± Pryce muttered. ¡°Could you recognize this dragon by scent if you met him in the future?¡±
¡°Yes, easily,¡± Fathom answered.
¡°You said¡ship can move¡yes?¡± Celeste asked, slow and uncertain as she spoke in the unfamiliar language.
¡°Yes, why?¡±
¡°If¡green dragon¡¡± Tossing her head, she turned to her father, ?It does not matter who this green dragon talks to if Pryce moves the ship, right??
Fathom paused, then translated this for Pryce.
¡°That¡¯s¡a good point,¡± Pryce said, nodding as he considered the idea. ¡°He does have the door handle, but there¡¯s nothing we can do about that. Good thing we were going to move it anyway.¡±
¡°This is good, right? You don¡¯t seem happy.¡±
¡°We should leave as soon as possible just in case the green dragon brings anyone back, but that means I¡¯ll need to put away all my lab equipment so nothing breaks while I move the ship. I¡¯m not done making penicillin yet, so I¡¯ll have to take it all out again when we get back.¡± Pryce threw his hands up in exasperation.
¡°How much longer will you need if we stay and let you finish?¡±
¡°I don¡¯t know, four hours?¡±
¡°Then yes, we should move.¡±
¡°Great,¡± Pryce sighed. ¡°Well, I¡¯ll get started. You three can climb aboard, and bring along all the stuff you want.¡±
¡°...yes,¡± Fathom said to Pryce¡¯s back, his spines flattened.
Celeste tilted her head. ?Is something wrong??
?I should move all my things if I will not be here to defend my territory, but¡it feels like running away,? Fathom grumbled, only to hiss as Devotion whacked him over the head with a wingtip.
?You are still too young to be concerned with such things,? Devotion snorted, ignoring Fathom¡¯s glare with perfect grace. ?Running does not make you weak. Fighting does not make you strong. Those who are strong know when to run and when to fight.?
?I know that-? Fathom started, but she cut him off, continuing unimpeded.
?A dragon who takes your territory will either be stronger or weaker than you. If they are weaker, you can just take it back. If they are stronger, then you would have lost anyway. There is nothing here that you cannot replace, especially when humans can apparently make so many things.?
?Of course I know that,? Fathom hissed, ?but that does not mean I will enjoy doing it.?
Devotion snorted austerely. ?If you knew that, you should not have complained.?
¡°What are you three talking about?¡± Pryce asked as he carried something outside.
¡°Nothing important,¡± Fathom huffed. ¡°What is that?¡±
¡°It¡¯s called a cooler. Cold things will stay cold for a long time if you put them in here,¡± Pryce explained. ¡°You open it like this,¡± he said, demonstrating how the simple mechanism operated. ¡°Can you fly up the mountain and put some ice in here? Snow is good too, but put as much as you can inside of the cooler.¡±
¡°Why?¡±
¡°I need someplace cold to store the penicillin, remember? I¡¯m not leaving what we have here in the river.¡±
¡°Right,¡± Fathom nodded. ¡°I¡¯ll fill this with ice, and then I will move my things into the ship. Do you have more bags?¡±
Pryce blinked in surprise, but realized it only made sense to pack things up if they were going to leave his territory vulnerable. ¡°Of course, I¡¯ll get a few right now.¡±
Chapter 50, Day 86, Part 2: Raise the Anchor
Pryce spent several hours packing things up while Celeste helped ferry her father¡¯s possessions aboard the ship, though Devotion preferred to lay sprawled out upon the deck; apparently the black tarmac was luxuriously warm compared to the natural sun-heated stones.
Once he was done with his task the dragons helped him pull up the anchor ¨C the crank was quite interesting to them ¨C and now all that was left was to set sail, so to speak.
¡°Starting the ship now,¡± Pryce warned.
The engines rumbled to life, and the three dragons shifted nervously despite his warning; they probably weren¡¯t very used to the ground vibrating beneath them. Exhaust began to pour out of the smokestacks as Pryce ramped up the propeller, pushing the rear end of the ship up against the flow of the river before cutting the engines. He repeated this motion several times, eventually freeing the Horizon from its entrenched position on the beach. Once the ship drifted to the middle of the river Pryce dropped one of the rear anchors.
This was done because the rear of the ship faced the mouth of the river. Pryce was well aware he lacked the skill to elegantly redirect the ship, and he certainly couldn¡¯t pilot the ship in reverse either ¨C especially when that risked running into the shores propeller-first.
In order to avoid that scenario he¡¯d devised this somewhat clumsy maneuver, which involved using the anchor to fix the rear of the ship in place and allowing the current to pull the Horizon down towards the mouth of the river.
Inelegant as it was, it seemed to be working so far; all that was left was to pull the anchor back up, and the river would naturally carry the ship out to sea.
¡°Wait,¡± Fathom said, pointing at the beach. ¡°The ship made a big hole in the sand.¡±
Pryce stepped out of the wheelhouse and saw the gaping hole in the sand where the ship had been. ¡°Can you push the sand back in and make it look like the ship was never here?¡± he asked.
¡°I hate digging in sand, it always gets under my scales,¡± Fathom grumbled. He gave his palms a forlorn glance before leaping onto the beach, where he used a tree trunk as a stick to break the sand loose, which he smoothed out with splashes of water. When he was done, it was as if the ship had never been there at all.
¡°Alright, you can crank the anchor up now, Celeste,¡± Pryce called out upon Fathom¡¯s return. The dragon had tried to wash himself in the river, but sand immediately clung onto his wet hands and feet the moment he stepped back on shore. Now Fathom scraped his palms on the edge of the bulwark in an effort to clean himself, but this effort was met with limited success.
Celeste did as he asked, and Pryce breathed a sigh of relief when the Horizon floated down the river without any problems. Once out on the open ocean he eased the engines to their maximum sustainable output, and the ship sped out to the east, away from Alternis¡¯ shores.
?My territory is to the north, where is he going?? Devotion asked, looking uncharacteristically unnerved. The dragons all sat near the nose of the ship, ahead of the exhaust.
?Pryce and I talked about this earlier,? Fathom said, ?he wants to go east and then north, that way other dragons cannot see us.? He gave the smokestacks a pointed look. ?I thought this was too cautious, but the smoke makes Pryce''s ship very easy to follow. This way, we can just fly south until the smoke disappears. That way, we will know for certain that we are not being pursued.?
?I see,? Devotion rumbled. ?This ship is¡very impressive, even if it makes a terrible smell,? she grumbled, casting a critical eye at the grey plumes of exhaust. ?We seem to be traveling quite fast.?
?Yes, I have never seen the ship go this fast either,? Fathom said in awe. Celeste seemed to share their sentiment, judging by the look on her face. She seemed to be visibly resisting the urge to mantle her wings.
¡°Impressive, isn¡¯t it?¡± Pryce asked once he stepped out of the wheelhouse. ¡°We¡¯ll go in this direction for half an hour. That should get us about 20 kilometers away from shore. I¡¯d rather go further, but I also don¡¯t want to use too much fuel.¡±
¡°It should be enough, 20 kilometers is far enough that the smoke will be very hard to notice, and dragons don¡¯t stare at the ocean very often,¡± Fathom reassured. ¡°There¡¯s usually nothing there.¡±
¡°How¡do the ship move?¡± Celeste asked, her eyes brimming with wonder.
Pryce froze for a moment, then chuckled. ¡°Sorry, I was just thinking of something else,¡± he said, shaking his head. ¡°That¡¯s a great question, and the answer is very complicated, so I¡¯ll simplify it. Remember how I said hot gasses expand? We use fires to make very hot gasses, and we use the expansion of these gasses to make a propeller spin, and that spinning pushes the ship forward.¡±
¡°Can you explain¡more?¡± Celeste asked when Fathom translated for her.
Pryce smiled. ¡°Well, we do have a few hours to spare.¡±
It only took four hours to get back to Devotion¡¯s territory, and between talking about the ship¡¯s engines and correcting their course, the time passed in the blink of an eye.
Fathom periodically flew back along the smoke trail and found no one following them, which was a relief. Pryce wasn¡¯t really sure what he would have done if someone had been following their trail.
?It is convenient to move so fast with no effort,? Devotion rumbled appreciatively as she stood up to stretch. ?Jooral will be excited to see this.?
?I can go and tell her, if you want,? Celeste offered.
Devotion shrugged. ?I can do it myself,? was all she said before she took off.
?It is rare to see her so excited,? Celeste said to Fathom as she watched the older dragon gain elevation.
Fathom hummed doubtfully, not having seen any trace of this excitement himself.
Pryce approached the beach and dialed down the engines earlier this time, guiding the ship to a much smoother landing. They waited for a few minutes, until Fathom and Celeste simultaneously turned their heads to some noise within the forest.
¡°What is it?¡± Pryce asked, a little worried.
¡°It is okay, that is¡Jo ¨C Fortitude,¡± Celeste said just before Pryce heard a distant crashing noise emanating from the forest.
¡°Are you sure?¡± The sound was getting closer at an alarming rate.
¡°Yes,¡± Fathom said, just as Fortitude burst out of the forest. Green smears marked her hide, and she panted as she stared up at the Horizon with wide round eyes.
¡°Someone¡¯s excited,¡± Pryce muttered to Fathom, who snorted in amusement. ¡°I guess I better go talk to her-¡± he dashed backwards as Fortitude crouched and leapt up, her claws hooking onto the bulwark as her hind legs scrabbled uselessly against the smooth hull.
Celeste rushed over to help, which gave Pryce the chance to observe the unusual sight of one dragon pulling up another by the hand.
¡°You could have given me some warning,¡± Pryce said, scowling at Fortitude while Fathom translated.
?Why? You would not have been hurt even if you stayed still,? Fortitude asked reasonably, which was technically true.
¡°Well I didn¡¯t know that,¡± Pryce grumbled. The sun flickered, and Pryce looked up to see Devotion coasting down.
?If you had just waited a beat, then I could have helped you up. You looked like a silly hrota clinging onto a tree branch,? Devotion chided.
¡°A hrota is a small furry animal that climbs up trees,¡± Fathom quietly translated for Pryce.
?But look at all this!? Fortitude cried, completely ignoring her partner¡¯s qualms. ?Everything is so straight or perfectly curved!?
?That is what I said yesterday,? Celeste hummed in amusement.
?How long did it take for you to move this ship here?? Fortitude asked, staring and tapping at the deck beneath her. ?It is hard to believe that you could move this thing anywhere.?
?Only about a sixth of a sun,? Fathom answered.
?Amazing. It is a shame I could not see it move.?
?You will be able to see it soon, when we move the ship out to sea,? Fathom pointed out.
?Yes, that is true,? she said distractedly as she examined the ship¡¯s rigging.
?Wait, did Ghorrah tell you about the green dragon?? Celeste asked.
?What green dragon?? Fortitude asked, which was itself enough of an answer. ?I was in a hurry to see this ship, but I think she might have been trying to tell me something,? she mused with a tilt of her head.
Fathom looked a little exasperated as he explained what had happened. ?The green dragon chewed off a piece of metal here, can you recognize the scent??
Fortitude gave the handle-stub a few experimental sniffs before tossing her head in a negative. ?I do not recognize this scent.? She paused. ?If you do not want this ship to be seen, then why did you bring it here for me to see? Would it not have been better if you left it far away on the sea??
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Fathom translated this with a curious look at Pryce, as if he had also considered the same question.
¡°...Maybe,¡± Pryce said, hesitantly. The truth was, he had originally considered doing exactly that. ¡°But you said this territory was pretty safe, and you wanted to see the ship, right?¡± He had already planned to show Fortitude the ship, even before Trespasser had altered the circumstances ¨C a secret could only be leaked once, after all.
Considered rationally, he wasn¡¯t sure if encouraging Fortitude¡¯s interest in humans was worth risking further detection by less friendly dragons, but he did prefer the ship to be on solid ground when doing lab work. Pryce didn¡¯t know what the right choice was, and maybe spending time with dragons had affected his decision-making skills, but he couldn¡¯t quite bring himself to regret this choice when faced with the childlike interest that she radiated.
?Yes, very much,¡± she said, glancing around eagerly. ?What do all these things do??
"I can tell you about that later. I still have to give you your gift, remember?" Pryce asked, hefting up a backpack.
Fortitude blinked. It seemed that in her excitement, she had indeed forgotten. "Is this the gift?" she asked, nosing the bag.
¡°Not yet. First I¡¯ll need your gold ring for about ten minutes,¡± Pryce said, pointing at the aforementioned object.
?He needs the gold ring for about fifty beats.? Fathom translated Pryce''s words with notable caution.
?Absolutely not!? Devotion hissed, making Pryce jump.
?Okay,? Fortitude shrugged, and deftly removed her own ring.
?What? But you spent tens of years making these!? Devotion exclaimed. ?How can you just give it away??
?I am not giving it away, I am letting him clean it. And look how small he is! It is not like he could keep it from me,? Fortitude said with a reasonable air, gesturing pointedly at the diminutive human.
Devotion huffed in acquiescence. She glared at Pryce as he accepted the gold band, and carefully set the precious accessory down upon a soft cloth. The amount of gold in that band would have fetched a considerable sum on the Mainland, making Pryce wonder if Alternis was richly laden with the precious metal. Though gold wasn''t the most interesting of substances ¨C its non-reactivity limited its practical applications ¨C the possibility of the island having significant reserves of the metal was certainly worth noting.
He would have preferred to do both rings at once, but he doubted he could convince Devotion without first proving his claim. To start, Pryce filled a metal bowl with water, then he added soap, ammonia, and sodium bicarbonate ¨C otherwise known as baking soda.
Fortitude pulled her head back the moment the scent of ammonia graced her nostrils. "What is that? It smells horrible!" she exclaimed, disgusted.
"It''s called ammonia; it''s a liquid that cleans things.¡±
Fortitude froze and stared with a blank expression while Celeste and Devotion frowned, flattening their spines. Even Fathom looked rather apprehensive.
?Oh.? She didn¡¯t sound very reassured. ?Is he going to put it in that terrible smelling liquid??
"Yes, why?" Pryce asked. "Ah. I promise it won''t smell like ammonia afterwards." Pausing, he turned to Fathom. "She''s not worried about me keeping it, right? It''s not like I could actually keep it from her."
"No, she''s worried about you making it smell bad," Fathom said, answering Pryce''s question before relaying the human''s words to Fortitude, who then narrowed her eyes in thought.
?Very well,? she sighed, and drew her head back.
?If he breaks it or makes it smell terrible, then he will need to either fix it or replace it with something of equal value,? Devotion warned. ?If he doesn''t, then I will squash him until he does.?
?That will not happen,? Fathom said confidently before leaning over to Pryce. ¡°Are you sure that liquid won''t damage it? Or make it smell like ammonia?¡± he asked, in a neutral tone.
¡°No, of course not,¡± Pryce said, placing the ring into the cleaning solution with a plink. ¡°We need to wait five minutes, then I¡¯ll be able to clean it,¡± he said, checking the time with the chronometer.
They passed the time with idle chatter, though the dragons were a little distracted by the precious treasure currently stewing in the offensive smell of ammonia.
Pryce picked up a toothbrush when five minutes had passed, and began to scrub at the gold ring. Dust and grime fell away with ease, and eyes widened as the precious metal revealed its true luster.
?It looks like new,? Fortitude breathed. She tried to reach for the ring, but was warded off by Pryce¡¯s toothbrush.
¡°Wait a few more minutes, I can make it shinier,¡± Pryce said, and she restrained herself with a grumble. The accessory seemed to gain a little more luster on the second round, though the change was far less noticeable this time. For the last step he simply rinsed the band in clean water before rubbing it down with a rag soaked in isopropyl alcohol.
Fortitude deftly speared the ring through with a talon, and gave it an experimental sniff.
¡°See, no ammonia smell, right?¡± Pryce asked Fortitude.
?This smells like¡alcohol, but different. Not bad.?
¡°Yeah, alcohol is good at cleaning things, and it evaporates much faster than water,¡± Pryce explained. ¡°How is it? Human gold looks like a mirror because we have special tools to polish it, but I don¡¯t have any of that,¡± he said apologetically.
Fathom opened his mouth to translate, then paused. ¡°You haven¡¯t shown them a mirror yet,¡± he pointed out.
¡°Ah. Just tell them human gold is really smooth and shiny for now,¡± Pryce shrugged; he did have a lot of work left to finish today. Maybe he¡¯d explain what a mirror was tomorrow.
?Yes, this makes it look like new ¨C better than new! Thank you,? she said, bowing her head gratefully. ?Though I cannot imagine it looking any shinier than this.?
¡°Great,¡± Pryce smiled, then turned to Devotion, who was staring at the metal bowl and not quite meeting his eyes. ¡°Do you want me to make your ring shiny too?¡±
?...yes,? she mumbled, reluctantly handing over the precious item. Her partner gave her a pointed look, and she begrudgingly added, ?Please.?
This second process was much less eventful. When it was done, Devotion accepted her new and improved treasure with stilted thanks, though she noticeably held her head a little higher afterwards.
¡°Well, I need to go and make medicine now. Fathom knows a lot about the ship, he can tell you whatever you want,¡± Pryce said.
The dragons¡¯ brassy voices grew muffled as he descended to the cargo hold, but even in the bowels of the ship he could still hear them as a low background thrum.
Fathom and Celeste sat on the deck of the ship while Devotion and Fortitude watched the Horizon drift away from the beach, the dragons all still fascinated by how something so large could move so quickly. It had taken several hours for Pryce to finish synthesizing the rest of the mold broth, and the next batch was already incubating in the ship''s depths, ready to be harvested in nine or ten days.
Pryce let the ship chug along, the pink-tinged sky growing red with the approaching sunlight. Half an hour later he shut down the engines, then dropped the anchors. At a distance of fifteen to twenty kilometers away from shore, the Horizon should be hidden well enough.
It would still be visible to dragon in flight, but there was nothing Pryce could do about that. Theoretically, a dragon flying at a height of 500 meters above sea level ought to be able to see up to 92 kilometers away, though there was no point in hiding the ship at such a far distance from the shore; the ocean would likely be too deep for the anchors, to say nothing of the cost of fuel involved in keeping the ship so far away, nor the sheer inconvenience.
¡°I¡¯m a little surprised that you showed her the ship,¡± Fathom noted rather abruptly while Pryce latched himself onto his neck. ¡°Especially after that green dragon saw it. Someone else might have seen it, and you seemed like you really didn¡¯t want that to happen.¡±
¡°Yeah,¡± Pryce sighed. Fathom stared expectantly, and he elaborated, saying, ¡°It¡¯s important to get Fortitude as an ally, since Devotion will help us so long as we help her¡but this is really just something I wanted to do.¡±
Fathom gave him a look that Pryce strongly suspected would¡¯ve been a smirk on a human. ¡°Good,¡± was all he said before he offered Pryce a hand up.
[JOURNAL ENTRY]
Day 86,
It¡¯s not a good feeling, having something outside of your control.
Trespasser could really throw a wrench into my plans, but I don¡¯t know what sort of impact he could have. Considering recent events, it might be a good idea to limit the (possible) spread of disinformation by reaching out to as many dragons as possible, but it would only take one hostile dragon to ruin everything.
Rationally speaking, I wasn¡¯t sure if bringing the ship to Fortitude was a good decision. The benefit of getting Fortitude (and by extension Devotion) more interested in humans might not warrant the risk of (additional) premature discovery, but it¡¯s rather distasteful to be so calculating when it comes to making gestures of goodwill. Maybe spending time with dragons has affected my decision-making skills, but that might not be a bad thing either.
If I¡¯m being honest with myself, the reason why I¡¯ve been avoiding reaching out to dragons as a whole is because I¡¯m not confident in representing humanity. It¡¯s one thing to talk to a few individuals, but an entire species? I never liked bureaucracy or politics or anything of that nature. I have no idea where to even begin, but if I think about it¡I am unequivocally the most qualified human for this ¨C it¡¯s not much of a competition given that no one else even knows dragons exist.
Are my fears justified, or am I just avoiding responsibility? I should ask Fathom and the others for some advice.
On a less dour note: Human and dragon facial expressions have very little in common. Their lips are far too stiff, their spines are only vaguely analogous to eyebrows¡and yet their red and gold eyes can still express familiar emotions.
When they saw the ship move they were a little unnerved, but mostly in awe. It might sound a little narcissistic, but seeing their amazement makes me feel pride as a human.
Tomorrow we discuss how humans can make a good first impression.
Note 1: Synthesized 50.33 grams of penicillin today.
Total quantity of Penicillin-G produced: 185.69 grams.
Note 2: I¡¯ve moved the stock of Penicillin into another cold mountain-river.
Approximately two hundred kilometers away, a green dragon descended upon a small, unkempt cave.
?There you are,? Sharnha said, his eyes dilated to see deeper into the dark grotto. ?Your directions are terrible, by the way.?
A pale red dragon crept out of his shallow cave, warily eyeing his acquaintance. ¡°You seem excited,? Ighnahr said, ignoring the jab and asking his own implicit question.
?Yes, well I did just see something very, very interesting,? Sharnha said off-handedly. ?But first, I heard you were hurt quite badly, but you seem to be doing¡well enough.?
Ighnahr resisted the urge to growl, knowing he was in a rather sorry state. He had only recently regained the ability to fly, and much of his coloring had faded along with his musculature. Sharnha¡¯s ¡®concern¡¯ was at best a jab, and at worst a way to gauge how far the green dragon could push him.
?I am well enough,? Ighnahr grunted, ?and what do you mean ¡®Interesting¡¯?? He asked, the glint in his eyes belying his feigned disinterest.
?Let us not bother playing games, I know what you want to know, and I am not telling you anything without payment,? the verdant dragon snorted. Still, he was visibly eager to share his information. It was quite possibly an act, but the sly dragon¡¯s zeal did seem genuine, judging by the light lashing of his tail.
?Fine,? Ighnahr snorted, and retrieved a sizeable chunk of quartz.
?Not enough.? Sharnha said, turning his muzzle up at the sizable treasure.
Ighnahr flattened his spines and stifled a growl. ?How is this not enough??
?I just snuck into a territory with three dragons to take a look at the most interesting thing I have ever seen, so yes, this is not enough. I do not think it unreasonable, considering no one else would do this for someone like you,? Sharnha said, sneering austerely.
Ighnahr narrowed his eyes, though he knew the conniving dragon was right. Another crystal was reluctantly added to the first.
Sharnha peered at the crystals with an appraising eye, then nodded before opening his hand to reveal a golden elongated¡thing, unnaturally smooth and polished far beyond anything Ighnahr had ever seen. One end of it was jagged, as if it had been broken off from a larger piece, but most of its surface was like that of a calm lake in that it reflected his distorted self back at him.
?What¡is that?? Ighnahr asked, bewitched by the treasure. Then he shook his head and remembered himself. ?What does this have to do with Huroumh?? He demanded, returning to the real point of concern.
Sharnha flashed him a predatory grin. ?Allow me to explain¡?
Chapter 51, Day 87: Plan of Diplomacy
¡°I want to talk about something before we go see Fortitude and Devotion,¡± Pryce said that morning. It was Celeste¡¯s turn to go hunting, so he had some time for a private conversation with Fathom.
¡°What is it?¡± Fathom asked, tilting his head.
¡°A while ago I decided to wait for other humans to arrive before telling dragons about us. Do you think this was a good idea?¡±
¡°Yes, this way is less dangerous for you. Why are you asking?¡±
Pryce looked away, frowning. ¡°I¡¯ve been thinking about it. I wanted to wait for other humans to arrive because I don¡¯t really know what to do, but then I realized that none of the other humans would know what to do either, and I¡¯m the human who knows the most about dragons in the entire world.¡± He looked into Fathom¡¯s deep red eyes. ¡°What if doing that just gave dragons like Trespasser a chance to see the ship? What if this makes them think humans are sneaking around the island?¡±
¡°...I didn¡¯t think about it like that before,¡± Fathom said, flicking his spines contemplatively. ¡°That might be what happens, but I don¡¯t think they would care about that if you just gave them some human things.¡± He paused, then added reluctantly, ¡°We should ask Fortitude and Devotion. They are much older, and they know how dragons think better than I do.¡±
¡°Yeah, that¡¯s a good idea. I¡¯m just worried that¡if I make a mistake, and dragons decide humans are enemies or invaders¡¡± he trailed off, not needing to finish that sentence.
¡°You worry a lot, but you are not wrong,¡± Fathom sighed. ¡°It sounds very tiring to be always worried about other humans.¡±
Pryce paused, and carefully considered his words. ¡°...Not just humans. I¡¯m worried for dragons too.¡±
Fathom stared unblinkingly. ¡°Are you worried about humans using guns on dragons?¡±
¡°Yes," Pryce admitted. ¡°I can tell humans not to attack dragons, but they won¡¯t listen to me if dragons attacked first.¡±
Fathom said nothing, and only quietly rumbled in consternation for a few moments. ¡°Then¡many humans and dragons would die?¡±
¡°...yeah,¡± Pryce sighed.
¡°...How strong are human weapons?¡± Fathom asked, looking at him with a wariness that he hadn¡¯t shown before.
¡°Well, dragons are smart, so it wouldn¡¯t be easy for humans to take this island, at least for a long time-¡±
¡°Answer the question,¡± Fathom said, his voice almost a growl. ¡°Please.¡±
¡°...we can build much bigger and stronger guns than my rifle,¡± Pryce confessed. ¡°Those could¡easily kill dragons.¡± He glanced to the side, fearing Fathom might not react well to this admission.
¡°...I understand.¡±
¡°What?¡± Pryce blurted, raising his head.
¡°I am not stupid,¡± Fathom snorted. ¡°I have seen your rifle and your ship, so I know humans can make powerful things, I just didn¡¯t know ¡®how¡¯ powerful. These big guns are¡concerning,¡± he admitted reluctantly, ¡°but I know you would not want to kill anyone for no reason, you are too¡you.¡±
¡°Thanks, I guess,¡± Pryce chuckled, heartened by the trust Fathom had in him. ¡°So, what should we do?¡±
¡°Wait for the other humans,¡± Fathom said. ¡°If any dragons think you were sneaking around, I can just say you were¡a secret, if that makes sense. I have no responsibility to tell anyone about you.¡±
¡°That¡sounds like a pretty good idea, actually,¡± Pryce said. ¡°And that¡¯s more an obligation rather than a responsibility.¡±
¡°Complicated human language,¡± Fathom snorted, rolling his eyes. ¡°You know what I mean.¡±
¡°Alright, we¡¯ll stick with the original plan.¡±
¡°Good,¡± Fathom nodded. ¡°And there¡¯s one more reason why we should do that.¡±
¡°Oh?¡±
¡°There¡¯s already three of us who can fly. Any more and I won¡¯t be one of the first dragons to talk to a group of humans.¡±
Pryce snickered at that joke. It honestly wasn¡¯t very funny, but he¡¯d suspected his friend had made it to lighten the mood more than anything else. ¡°Speaking of talking to groups, how much should we tell the other dragons?¡±
¡°I think dragons would respect humans more if we knew what kind of weapons you have, but dragons would also trust humans less.¡± Fathom said, choosing his words carefully. ¡°They are not stupid; if they see your rifles then they will ask if humans have stronger weapons; just like I did. Then you would have to lie or tell them the truth.¡±
¡°Is lying a good idea?¡± Pryce asked with a raised eyebrow.
¡°Maybe,¡± Fathom said, with an odd side-to-side motion of his head. ¡°Dragons would only ask about stronger rifles if they see what a rifle can do, but if you didn¡¯t show them¡¡±
¡°They might not think to ask, at least for a little while.¡±
¡°Yes, dragons would still learn about rifles as they learn about human technology, but by then everyone will hopefully know the others are not enemies.¡±
¡°Pretending to be weak, hm? Not a bad idea,¡± Pryce muttered. ¡°Sounds like it could work, but won¡¯t dragons think not telling is a type of lie?¡±
¡°No, not telling is just not telling, only saying something false is lying,¡± Fathom said, as if this were obvious. ¡°It is not considered a bad thing to keep secrets from those who are not friends, so you don¡¯t need to worry about that.¡±
¡°Alright, so we just¡tell other dragons about everything except weapons? What about Celeste, Fortitude, and Devotion? What should we tell them?¡±
¡°We can tell Celeste, and Fortitude needs help from humans to fix her wing, so we don¡¯t need to worry about her or Devotion being an enemy. Like I said earlier; it is good to ask them for their advice.¡±
¡°Alright, so we tell Fortitude and Devotion about human weapons, then listen to their advice on what to do.¡±
¡°I don¡¯t like it very much, but I think this is the best option.¡±
?Absolutely ridiculous,? Devotion said, once Fathom conveyed their earlier discussion. ?You can¡¯t seriously believe creatures like him can kill us so easily.?
Fortitude eyed Pryce with uncertainty, but she didn¡¯t seem to reject the notion outright. ?If they can move things as big as that ship, then it is within the realm of possibility that the humans would have weapons of that power. What I don¡¯t understand is why they would need our help at all.?
?The strongest weapons are hard to make, and the humans didn¡¯t have cause to think they¡¯d need them here,? Fathom answered, while Celeste only watched in silence. She had been somewhat skeptical when Fathom had told her about firearms, but he managed to convince her to swallow her doubts, at least for the moment.
?Pryce does have a smaller weapon called a rifle; it uses fire to push small pieces of metal called bullets, which go very very fast. He can show you how that works right now; is there a tree nearby that he can use to demonstrate??
?That does not sound very dangerous,? Fortitude said skeptically. ?How about¡that one?? she suggested, pointing to a small, unremarkable tree.
¡°Can I shoot that one instead?¡± Pryce asked, pointing to an older tree a little under half a meter in diameter. Fortitude gave him her permission, and he added, ¡°Oh, I should warn you; this is very loud.¡±
Even with his warning the three of them were startled by the crack of the rifle, and their subsequent inspection revealed a small point of entry in the bark.
?Is that it? A measly hole?? Devotion snorted.
?It went through the entire tree; the hole on the other side is much bigger.? Celeste had been better positioned to see the resulting spray of debris, and her observation silenced the older dragon.
?I am not sure if that could easily kill someone, but I would certainly not want to be hit by it,? Fortitude said candidly. ?How much wood can a bullet go through??
¡°Not much more than that, I think.¡±
?That is very dangerous, and you say they have stronger weapons than this?? Devotion asked, her eyes narrowed. ?What is stopping humans from using weapons like these to kill us all??
?Humans know nothing about this island, and they can still be killed by other predators, so it is desirable for them if we do not fight,? Fathom said.
?And what happens after that? What happens when they need nothing more from us?? Devotion demanded.
?That is¡? Fathom paused, and realized he didn¡¯t have the answer to that hypothetical.
¡°That is a good question. Do you know why humans live in groups?¡± Pryce asked. ¡°It¡¯s because we need each other. People are valuable to other people, and it can be the same between humans and dragons. Dragons can do things humans cannot, humans can do things dragons cannot, so we can be valuable to each other. Does that make sense?¡±
?...that makes a strange sort of sense, but I do not understand that either.? Devotion tossed her head, though she seemed somewhat mollified ¨C at least for now. ?Are you going to tell us about how humans live? I need to know more about your kind before I can trust the rest of you.?
¡°Yes, but we can talk about it tomorrow. I¡¯ll need a day to prepare,¡± Pryce said. History was far from his speciality, but he knew enough of the broad strokes for a general lesson. ¡°For today, I want everyone¡¯s advice on what to tell other dragons.¡±
Fathom translated for Pryce, then echoed the concerns he had shared that morning.
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¡°I¡do not know what to do,¡± Celeste admitted.
?I have never had to deal with anything like this before,? Fortitude shrugged. ?If news of you spread, then dragons would gather by the hundreds to ask questions, and they would not be happy if you answered with ¡°I do not know¡±. Would it not be better if there were many humans who could answer questions together??
Pryce considered this argument for several moments. He had considered it before, but it was more compelling to hear someone else mention it. ¡°Makes sense to me,¡± he nodded.
?If possible, I would also suggest not telling the others of your weapons,? Fortitude warned.
?I agree,? Devotion said. ?Do not give them this information. If they ask for it, then give as few details as possible.? She paused, and stared intently at Pryce. ?Why did you tell us about rifles? Are you not afraid of us seeing you as a threat??
¡°It¡¯s called a gesture of goodwill. I do something good for you, so you know you can trust me.¡±
?A gift of information,? Devotion said with a slow, acquiescing nod. ?Sensible.?
¡°Any other suggestions?¡± Pryce asked. After getting no responses, he continued: ¡°Alright, before I tell you about my plan I need to explain that I will be referring to dates based on the number of days that have passed since I departed the Mainland. I left the Mainland on Day 0, that makes today Day 87.¡± He waited for the others to nod. ¡°We will leave on Day 96 and arrive on Day 97, three days before the rescue ship¡¯s scheduled arrival.¡± It would have been more accurate to say the Horizon would take 19.5 hours to travel the 780 kilometers, but one day was close enough to five-sixths of one.
¡°Why we¡go early?¡± Celeste asked, working around her limited vocabulary.
¡°Just in case something goes wrong,¡± Pryce answered. ¡°I don¡¯t think anything will happen, but it¡¯s better to be early than late.¡±
Fathom translated Pryce¡¯s answer, then asked, ¡°The rescue ship will have a radio, correct?¡±
¡°Yes, but the ship¡¯s transmitter ¨C the machine that can send radio signals ¨C is relatively small. Taller transmitters can send radio signals across greater distances. To send a message around the world, the transmitter would need to be over 200 meters tall, which is obviously too big for The Horizon.¡±
?That is¡very tall,? Fortitude said, squinting as if she was trying to visualize such a construct. ?It is difficult to imagine something much taller than the tallest of the great-trees.?
Pryce filed away the mention of great-trees for later, choosing instead to stay on-topic. ¡°In short, most signals are blocked by the curvature of the Earth, and those that the ship sends are no exception. This means that under normal circumstances, two ships like the Horizon will only be able to hear each other if they¡¯re within 36 kilometers of the other. If I were alone there wouldn¡¯t be anything I could do about that, but dragons can do something humans can¡¯t: fly.¡±
Fathom blinked, then bobbed his head in understanding. ¡°If I fly higher, I can see further, which means the radio can do the same.¡±
¡°Exactly!¡± Pryce snapped his fingers. ¡°At an altitude of 500 meters, the radio will have a communication range of about 100 kilometers; at 2 kilometers, the range doubles.¡±
Dragons didn¡¯t have units of distance. Instead, they expressed distance through travel time, which they had a variety of measurements for. One ¡°beat of flight¡±, as in how long it took for them to complete one wingbeat, was twelve seconds, during which they flew approximately 133.3 meters. Fathom had told Pryce that he could visualize the length of a kilometer, but it was easier to get a feel of the distance using his native units. Thanks to the dragon¡¯s prodigious mental math skills, Pryce didn¡¯t have to bother with translating the units himself when Fathom could do it on the fly.
?So, with our help you can ¡®hear¡¯ them so long as they are within 1500 beats of flight, is that right?¡± Devotion asked. ?That is a great distance, but why would they not land at their intended location??
¡°Their intended location is where my ship was supposed to land, but a hurricane blew my ship off course. I¡¯m just preparing in case something similar happens again.¡±
¡°I know you want to be prepared, but that is unlikely,¡± Fathom said, ¡°A storm like that is very rare, especially at this time of the year.¡±
¡°Good to know, but we need to do this just in case we¡¯re unlucky. What¡¯s the furthest distance you could fly if you had to fly for many days in a row?¡± Pryce asked Fathom.
¡°We talked about this before when you showed me the world map,¡± Fathom chided, and said with a patient air, ¡°I can fly 500 kilometers while the sun is up. It can be harder to fly at night because the thermals are weaker, but I could still fly another 500 kilometers if I needed to. The weather is a big factor, so that distance could be much more or less depending on the wind,¡± he added.
¡°Ah. Right, I remember now,¡± Pryce nodded sheepishly. That really did seem like so long ago. ¡°That¡¯s good news, it means-¡±
¡°What if I fly higher than 2 kilometers?¡± Fathom proposed, cutting Pryce off.
¡°You could, but humans can¡¯t breathe very well if we¡¯re higher than 2 kilometers above the ocean,¡± Pryce explained. ¡°That little bit of extra distance I could tolerate wouldn¡¯t give us much more range. For example, at an altitude of 10 kilometers you¡¯d get¡give me a minute,¡± Pryce said, scribbling down his calculations. ¡°412 kilometers. Dragons can¡¯t fly that high, can you?¡± He asked hesitantly.
¡°No,¡± Fathom shook his head. ¡°We can fly up at least 4 kilometers, maybe 6, but that¡¯s not what I meant. What if you just give us the radio?¡±
Pryce paused. ¡°But how would you¡¡± Pryce paused, remembering the shortwave[1] crystal set receivers were much lighter than the longwave ones[2]. ¡°Yeah, that could work. It wouldn¡¯t be hard to attach it to your head ¨C even if it would look a little ridiculous ¨C but yeah, that¡¯s a great idea,¡± Pryce said, making Fathom preen.
¡°What is he saying?¡± Celeste asked; all three of them were visibly impatient at being left out of the conversation. Teaching them English would have been really helpful for this dialogue, but Pryce wanted to get planning out of the way, just in case he needed time to implement a modified plan.
Fathom was far more eager to translate this time, mostly due to having made his own contribution to their plans. While he caught the others up on their conversation Pryce did some more math; using an altitude of 5 kilometers as a conservative estimate, he obtained a new range of 300 kilometers.
The ship had a few radio transmitters, but their range was supposed to be limited to several kilometers. He¡¯d need to run some tests to be sure, but he wasn¡¯t holding out much hope. Even if the transmitter didn¡¯t work out, the dragons could home in on the strength of the rescue ship¡¯s signal with the help of the receivers.
Assuming that all worked out, he still only needed two dragons at a time; one to go north and one to go south. The Horizon would stay put where the rescue ship was expected to be, while the other two dragons could patrol to increase the effective range of the radio.
If they flew one lap per day, they could cover a distance of 250 kilometers twice over. Optimally positioned, they could cover a range of¡1100 kilometers? He sketched a diagram to make sure he hadn¡¯t made a mistake.
The rescue ship (assuming it traveled at the same cruising speed as The Horizon) would take 7.5 hours to cover that distance. The dragons all had to sleep for 10-12 hours, so a watertight patrol route was unfortunately impossible.
And since he had three able-bodied dragons, one of them could rest on deck while the others patrolled. They¡¯d have to fly at night, but Fathom said that was doable. It was a shame he didn¡¯t have a fourth dragon to rely on ¨C then he could cover all of that 1100-kilometer range without any large gaps.
Overall, he was as satisfied with the plan as he could be ¨C except for one aspect. Would the rescue ship even be broadcasting a signal so far out at sea? They probably would, since there was no reason not to. From their perspective it was entirely possible that the Horizon had been stranded somewhere out on the open ocean, and the crew were slowly dying from starvation or dehydration.
The backup crew would most likely be sent on this rescue mission, and Pryce knew they were all extremely competent.
He would just have to trust them and hope for the best.
¡°Are you done thinking?¡± Fathom asked, almost making Pryce jump. All four dragons were peering curiously at his messy scribbles. ¡°You have been writing for almost two minutes.¡±
Pryce smiled. ¡°Yeah, here¡¯s what I got¡¡±
It didn¡¯t take long for Pryce to explain his plan, and the others agreed that it made sense. Devotion was still doubtful about radio waves, so they offered a short demonstration where he and Fathom talked to them through the radio from a distance of several kilometers. Unfortunately, the radio transmitter was unable to reach the receiver at distances beyond ten kilometers ¨C not particularly useful for their purposes.
?What a fascinating tool,? Fortitude said. ?Can you explain how it works in greater detail??
¡°Maybe later,¡± Pryce said, already busy planning tomorrow¡¯s discussion. ¡°We still have other things to talk about, but I think that¡¯s enough for today.¡±
They¡¯d all agreed that it was best to avoid contact with other dragons for now ¨C Fortitude was under the impression that most dragons would be interested in humans, just like Fathom had been, but Devotion was less sanguine; she thought at least some small portion of dragons would be suspicious and possibly hostile.
In the end, it was simply safer to wait, so that¡¯s what they would do.
[JOURNAL ENTRY]
Day 87,
Lots of planning accomplished today.
None of the dragons really objected to the idea of me lying (by omission) about human weapons to the other dragons¡lying may be expected between dragons, but there seems to be a lack of intraspecies loyalty between dragons (at least when compared with humans).
I¡¯m not sure if that¡¯s a good thing or a bad thing, but I suppose it lowers the odds of them all turning on humanity if some unfortunate incident were to occur involving a single dragon.
Sometimes it¡¯s hard to separate yourself from the circumstances, so the fact that Fathom and the others have supported my decision makes me less worried that I¡¯ve made some terrible mistake in my plans. Let¡¯s just hope hindsight doesn¡¯t prove us all to be fools.
Either way, the rescue team is going to be in for one hell of a surprise. At least that¡¯s a burden we can all share. It¡¯s been quite a while since I¡¯ve talked to another human. Maybe I should shave my beard, else they might not recognize me.
I do have one, somewhat lesser concern that¡¯s been gnawing away at me: when should I leave?
The rescue team probably intends to leave as soon as possible in order to minimize risk; everyone back on the mainland still knows next to nothing about this island, and knowing a little is better than knowing nothing. The moment I tell them there¡¯s sapient dragons, they might think they¡¯re out of their depth and decide to report home first.
I could argue that dragons would take insult at humans leaving so soon, or it would be better to communicate with them rather than let speculation run rampant. But even if we do that, how much longer would we stay?
I don¡¯t know
¡°You have been writing for a long time,¡± Fathom said, cracking an eye open. His daughter was fast asleep, curled up beside him.
¡°You have been up for a long time,¡± Pryce noted. Dragons usually preferred to sleep 12 hours, and they didn¡¯t seem to usually have trouble falling asleep either.
¡°I¡have been thinking about the future,¡± Fathom said slowly, ¡°When we find the other humans, will you go home?¡±
Pryce pressed his lips together, uncertain of how to respond. ¡°It depends on what happens. If things go wrong, and dragons think humans are a threat, then I would have to leave.¡± Now that he¡¯d said it, he realized he hadn¡¯t really wanted to go home for a long time. Not since he met Fathom.
¡°I don¡¯t think that will happen, but if they do, we can just fight them,¡± Fathom said, as if he were suggesting a leisurely flight. ¡°If they¡¯re that stupid then they can¡¯t be very hard to beat.¡±
¡°Let¡¯s try to avoid that,¡± Pryce said drily. There was something in Fathom¡¯s casual suggestion that made it sound a little different, almost as if he were deflecting the subject with humor. ¡°I do hope things go well. If they do, then I would like to stay. Very much,¡± he added, a little awkwardly.
¡°If things go bad,¡± Fathom said, placing emphasis on the conditional. ¡°Can I come with you to the Mainland?¡±
¡°...Things are very different there,¡± Pryce said, once he had collected himself. ¡°The weather, the food, the bacteria¡it¡¯s all different. You could get sick, maybe even die.¡±
¡°You did not get sick, at least not very sick,¡± Fathom pointed out, ¡°so I should be able to do the same. If I do get sick, then I¡¯ll just eat your medicine. Even if it tastes horrible.¡±
¡°I appreciate your confidence in me,¡± Pryce chuckled. ¡°But it¡¯s not so simple. Penicillin only works on certain types of bacteria. It¡¯s just good luck that I haven¡¯t gotten very sick yet, considering that my body has never had to kill the bacteria here before, but then again the bacteria probably don¡¯t know how to infect me-¡± he paused, catching Fathom¡¯s unimpressed gaze. ¡°Sorry, I¡¯m talking too much.¡±
¡°Yes.¡±
¡°...If you want to take that risk, then I¡¯ll do my best to convince the rescue team to let you come along.¡±
¡°Good,¡± Fathom rumbled, settling down with a contented air as he closed his eyes. ¡°Goodnight, Pryce.¡±
¡°Goodnight, Fathom.¡±
I don¡¯t know
We¡¯ll figure something out, no matter what happens.
Chapter 52, Day 88: An Unnatural History of Homo Sapiens
¡°I guess I should start from the beginning,¡± Pryce said, looking up at the four dragons. ¡°No one knows for sure, but humans have existed for at least 50,000 years.¡±
?Wait, I am confused,? Devotion said after Fathom echoed Pryce¡¯s statement. ?A clan of humans must have counted the years, but then why are they uncertain about that??
Fathom translated this question, then added, ¡°Dragons usually teach hatchlings about events that have happened in the last 1,000 years, anything older than that would be a special event, like a very strong earthquake or eruption.¡±
¡°Makes sense,¡± Pryce nodded. ¡°And the others can¡¯t understand how we determined that value yet, but I¡¯ve taught you enough for you to understand, ready?¡±
Fathom nodded, eyes rapt with attention.
¡°Most of the nitrogen in the air is called nitrogen-14, because we add up the 7 protons and 7 neutrons to get 14 ¨C there¡¯s 7 electrons too, but those aren¡¯t counted because they¡¯re very light. The important part is that the energy of the sunlight turns a bit of the nitrogen-14 into carbon-14, which has 6 protons, 8 neutrons, and 6 electrons. This carbon-14 will float around and be absorbed by all living things until they die.¡±
[Nitrogen14 => Carbon14 diagram]
Fathom blinked, then cocked his head. ¡°How does nitrogen-14 turn into carbon-14? Where did the proton and electron go, and why is there an extra neutron?¡±
¡°Good question. Sometimes the sun can emit very powerful photons, which can knock neutrons out of atoms. These loose neutrons can hit the atom of nitrogen-14 and knock out one proton while the neutron itself stays behind ¨C the electron is lost because the loss of the proton makes the atom positive, and it gets rid of the electron to make itself neutral.¡±
¡°I¡think I understand most of this,¡± Fathom said. ¡°But what does this have to do with measuring the age of the human species?¡±
¡°Because in 5730 years, half of carbon-14 will always turn back into nitrogen-14. This means we can see how much carbon-14 is left in an old bone and compare it to a new bone, and that will tell us how much time has passed since the owner of the bone died.¡± Pryce paused, aware that this was a bit overwhelming. ¡°Does that make sense?¡±
¡°...how does carbon-14 turn back into nitrogen-14? Is it because of sunlight knocking one neutron away? The proton could come from a nitrogen-14 atom that turned into a carbon-14 atom, and the electron would be gained in the same way.¡±
Pryce blinked. ¡°That¡¯s actually a really good guess, but it¡¯s a bit more complicated than that. It turns out neutrons can turn into a proton, electron, and something called an antineutrino. This process is called beta-minus decay, because it releases a negative electron. There¡¯s a reverse reaction called beta-plus decay, which is where a proton becomes a neutron, neutrino, and positron. Neutrinos are basically positive antineutrinos, and electrons are negative positrons.¡±
¡°Antineutrino? Positron? You didn¡¯t explain any of this earlier; I thought you said everything was only made of protons, electrons, and neutrons?¡± Fathom groused, his eyes narrowing indignantly.
¡°That¡¯s true, but neutrinos and antineutrinos don¡¯t make up anything, they just fly around. Positrons don¡¯t make up anything either, though the reason for that is much more complicated. I don¡¯t know much more than this, if it makes you feel any better,¡± Pryce said consolingly.
¡°Not really,¡± Fathom chuffed. ¡°And why did you say at least 50,000 years? Why can¡¯t you get a better number using this method?¡±
¡°After 50,000 years there¡¯s not enough carbon-14 to measure,¡± Pryce shrugged. ¡°Similar processes happen to other elements, but we¡¯re still figuring those out.¡±
Fathom sighed and turned to face the three impatient dragons. ¡°...how do I explain this to them?¡± He asked in an oddly despairing tone.
¡°You can think of it like¡heat,¡± Pryce suggested. ¡°Imagine if you heated up a rock using the sun. If you took the rock into a cave, it would cool down. By knowing how quickly the rock cools, you could determine how long the rock has been out of the sun even if you weren¡¯t there when it happened.¡±
¡°That helps me understand, but it won¡¯t help for them; heat doesn¡¯t last years.¡±
¡°Just say sunlight changes things in the air, and when those things are absorbed by life it starts to change back very slowly.¡±
Fathom gave a dissatisfied rumble, but did what Pryce suggested.
?Is that all? He seemed to say a lot more than that,? Fortitude asked skeptically.
?It is very complicated, he taught me other things earlier which let me understand, at least a little,¡± Fathom sighed. ?This is only the simple version.?
?Can you not teach us what he taught you?¡± Celeste asked.
?That took a whole day, and we are supposed to be talking about human history today, remember??
Celeste and Fortitude seemed as if they would have rather pursued this line of questioning, but Devotion cut in, saying, ?It does not really matter if they are 5,000 or 50,000 years old. Have him tell us about their history.?
¡°First, let me say that I¡¯m not a history expert, so feel free to ask about anything, but there¡¯s a good chance I won¡¯t know it,¡± Pryce warned, glancing down at his prepared notes. He went on to explain how humans once lived as wandering hunter-gatherers, until farming was invented about ten thousand years ago. ¡°This meant humans had to live in one place, because all the food was grown in one place.¡±
?You stopped hunting?? Devotion asked, a note of disapproval in her voice.
¡°No, we still hunted, but we also captured animals and grew food for them, so we could make our own source of meat. Most animals are also bigger and stronger than humans, so we used them to do work for us too.¡±
The three dragons looked askance at this, which wasn¡¯t a surprise. It was hardly in line with ¡®proper¡¯ hunting ideals that dragons so seemed to value, and he couldn¡¯t imagine that they thought kindly of using others for labor as well.
?I suppose it makes sense, if they are so weak,? Celeste shrugged.
?Just because it makes sense does not mean it should be done,? Devotion grumbled, though Pryce was relieved that she didn¡¯t have any vehement objections to make.
?I should have asked this earlier, but these animals, could they speak like humans or dragons?? Fortitude asked, her tone uncharacteristically dire.
¡°No, there are none, why?¡± He asked a second before realizing her implication. ¡°Ah, you meant to ask if we made other intelligent animals do work for us.¡± She nodded, seemingly satisfied with his answer. Pryce was a little uncomfortable lying by omission, but it had been hundreds of years since slavery was practiced, so he didn¡¯t think it prudent to bring it up.
The next thing he described was the concept of a city. ¡°Like I said earlier, farming made it so people lived in bigger groups called towns. These groups of people didn¡¯t have to spend as much time making food, so they could focus on learning things, like learning how to create pottery and art,¡± Pryce said, gesturing to Fortitude. ¡°Thanks to farming, humans began to invent more technologies, and we eventually built very large towns, which are called cities.¡±
¡°How many human¡in one town? How many humans in one city?¡± Celeste asked, her English still a little stilted.
¡°Small towns only had a few tens of people, bigger towns had maybe a few thousand. Cities have tens of thousands, and the ones that exist today have millions of people.¡±
?I still cannot imagine millions of these creatures; it must look like an ocean,? Devotion grumbled.
¡°She¡¯s not wrong,¡± Pryce said, suppressing a shudder. The government had decided to make him something of a public figure for his part in ending the plague, and he had been encouraged to give a few speeches to several oversized crowds. He had loathed being paraded around like a hero for his failures, but he could not deny that it had a positive effect upon the public¡¯s interest in scientific research. ¡°Anyway, there were many cities that lived and died over the next few thousand years, and progress was pretty slow for the most part. Sometimes things like diseases ended up killing many millions of humans, so we often ended up losing progress.¡±
?Sounds complicated,? Fortitude noted. ?Does your land also have volcanoes? I imagine those are dangerous if you cannot fly.?
Pryce nodded and confirmed her suspicions. ¡°There were two very large volcanic eruptions that killed many people, but the last one was almost a thousand years ago. Other things like earthquakes and tsunamis are also very dangerous.¡± He thought about mentioning meteors, but the last one in recorded history had fallen into the ocean several thousand years ago. This incident was believed to have birthed a monstrous wave of water a hundred meters tall, but that was getting off track.
¡°Nevermind about that, here¡¯s the important part: almost a thousand years ago, there were four groups of cities called kingdoms who were always fighting each other because they wanted what the others had.¡± The dragons seemed to have no problem accepting this, so he went on to say, ¡°This all ended when one kingdom ¨C whose people were called the English ¨C defeated all the others, which resulted in the beginning of the English empire.¡±
¡°English? That is the name of your language,¡± Celeste noted.
¡°Yes, the language the English spoke became the language everyone spoke. There are still other languages, but very few people know how to speak them, and almost everyone knows how to speak English.¡± Pryce was privately glad they didn¡¯t ask him to elaborate on the specifics of what ¡®defeating¡¯ entailed, though he was fairly certain they wouldn¡¯t have much of an issue with open conflict.
¡°Good, that means I don¡¯t have to learn another language,¡± Fathom said, sighing in relief ¨C a sentiment Pryce felt wholeheartedly.
Now it was time to tell them about modern history, but first he had to explain how humans referred to the years. ¡°Humans refer to the year that the empire was established as year 0; years that came before and after that date are referred to as ¡®Before Establishment¡¯ and ¡®After Establishment¡¯.¡±
¡°That is convenient,¡± Fathom noted. ¡°This way the numbers won¡¯t change from year to year.¡±
¡°Yeah, I¡¯m amazed that you can remember all those changing numbers,¡± Pryce said, shaking his head.
Fathom shrugged dismissively. ¡°It¡¯s not hard. You can just remember ¡®this thing happened 100 years ago when I was hatched¡¯, then add your age.¡±
Well that was interesting. Pryce wondered if they would have counted the years in a more familiar fashion if they had a definitive moment to use as a baseline, but he filed that thought away when he realized the dragons waiting expectantly.
Celeste tilted her head upon hearing the translation. ?How many years has it been since the empire was created??
¡°Nine-hundred-and-fifty years ago. In other words, humans say that this year is 950 AE.¡± Celeste looked like she wanted to ask another question, so Pryce held up his hand to stop her. ¡°Let me finish talking, then you can ask any other questions that you have, alright?¡±
Celeste paused for a moment, then nodded reluctantly.
¡°Alright, back to the kingdoms; each kingdom was controlled by one person called the king, and everyone has to do what he wants.¡±
?Why do millions of people obey one person?? Devotion asked, again confused by the concept of human leadership. ?What happens if that king is a terrible person??
¡°Well, that¡¯s kind of what happened. The English empire lasted until the year 624 AE, when he angered the people so much that they killed him. This caused the empire to fall apart, and it turned into two groups of cities that we call ¡®countries¡¯, which exist in the north and south of the Mainland.¡±
¡°Countries? Not kingdoms?¡± Celeste asked.
¡°Yes, people were tired of being told what to do by a king, so they gave power to a group of people instead,¡± Pryce explained. ¡°These groups of cities working together were called countries, and not kingdoms.¡±
?So complicated,¡± Devotion snorted. ?You humans sound like you care too much about what others think; you should just do whatever you want.?
¡°If we did, then nothing would work,¡± Pryce said, scratching his head as he wondered how to explain this. ¡°We would be here for many days if I tried to explain how cities work, so you¡¯ll have to trust me that there are reasons why these things happen.¡±
This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.
¡°Can you teach me later?¡± Celeste asked earnestly.
¡°Maybe?¡± Pryce said, hoping the subject wouldn¡¯t be too boring for her. ¡°I could try, but it would have to wait until the three of you can speak English as well as your father can.¡± Seeing Celeste nod, he continued his history lesson. ¡°Back to the countries; the northern one was called Aquilo, while the southern one was called Auster. These two countries were at peace for a few years, but the lands in the north were cold, so the people who lived there weren¡¯t able to grow as much food as the ones who lived in the south. This was the heart of the conflict that started a Great War in 890 AE, which lasted for eight long years.¡±
Fathom cocked his head. ¡°Ah, right, humans only have one heart. Does ¡®heart of the conflict¡¯ mean the main thing that caused the conflict?¡±
¡°Yeah, sorry, it¡¯s hard not to use expressions,¡± Pryce said apologetically, and resisted the urge to ask if dragons had an equivalent expression.
?How can a fight last eight years?? Devotion asked, baffled by the idea. ?What did the ¡®Great War¡¯ look like??
¡°It lasted so long because war is complicated ¨C too complicated to explain easily ¨C but war is basically hundreds of thousands of humans fighting against another group of hundreds of thousands humans,¡± Pryce said. This was a rather inaccurate image, but it was the most practical explanation he could offer at the moment. ¡°And I can¡¯t say I know what it looked like, because it ended in the year 898, and I was born in the year 900, so I¡¯ve never seen war myself.¡±
¡°...Who won?¡± Celeste prompted after a moment¡¯s silence.
¡°Ah. No one.¡± He had almost forgotten to mention that. ¡°The end of the war began in 897, when an earthquake caused a tidal wave that killed a lot of people; including the leaders of the human soldiers.¡± Technically only the southern general had died as a result of the natural disaster. His northern counterpart had been a staunch supporter of the war, and had been killed amidst the chaos and confusion. No culprit had ever been found, but it was a popular theory that he had been killed by one or more of his own men.
¡°The war ended because the leaders died?¡± Fathom asked.
¡°Yes, a lot of soldiers were tired of the war by then, and they wanted to go home to help their families who were hurt or killed by the disaster. It was unsteady at first, but the two countries began to help each other, and a few years later they eventually combined to become one big country we call the Mainland.¡± The merging was a long and complicated process, but that was the long and short of it. To be more specific, the two countries had officially become provinces, and had retained their former names, but that was getting into more detail than he needed to convey.
?Is that it? Did anything else important happen in the next 52 years?? Fortitude inquired.
¡°A lot happened, but those were mostly discoveries and inventions. With no war going on, it was a lot easier for people to focus on other things.¡±
¡°Discoveries?¡± Celeste asked, butting in.
¡°Later,¡± Pryce smiled. He was starting to wish there were several of him so they could take turns explaining everything. ¡°One of the most important things I wanted to talk about are the beliefs of humans. Do dragons have any stories about how the world was made?¡±
Devotion shook her head. ?I have heard many, but no one knows-?
?I have one!? Fortitude interrupted, looking quite excited. ?I think volcanoes are proof that inside the world is a vast amount of liquid rock, which leaks into the ocean to make islands. Am I right??
¡°She said she thinks volcanoes are proof that the inside of the world is liquid rock,¡± Fathom said, sounding doubtful but curious to hear what Pryce would say.
Devotion snorted. ?I told you before that makes no sense-?
¡°That¡¯s pretty close, actually,¡± Pryce said. ¡°We¡¯re pretty sure the inside of the earth is made of liquid rock, though we recently discovered that the very center of the Earth is solid, not liquid.¡± Jane Callan had been the geologist who had developed this theory, which elegantly explained the strange ¡®echoes¡¯ of minor quakes that modern seismographs had detected.
¡she had also been a fellow crewmember, as well as one of the four who had certainly drowned in the ocean.
?Why is it solid? Is it not hot?? Fortitude asked, snapping Pryce out of his thoughts.
Pryce suppressed a sigh, and smiled at Fortitude. ¡°Things can be solids if they¡¯re exposed to enough pressure, even if it¡¯s normally hot enough to be a liquid. The same can be done in reverse; in fact, I can show you how water can turn into a gas if you lower the pressure.¡±
¡°Like when you make medicine, you make liquid water become solid?¡± Celeste asked. It took Pryce a moment to puzzle out her meaning, but it seemed she was confused how he turned the liquid solution into a powder.
¡°Good question, and you¡¯re almost right. That tool I used lowers the pressure by taking the air out, so the water becomes a gas and leaves behind the things that aren¡¯t water.¡±
Celeste tilted her head and eventually nodded, satisfied by the explanation. ?Why did you ask about ¡®stories about how the world was made¡¯? Do humans have these?? she asked her father.
¡°That¡¯s right,¡± Pryce nodded. ¡°Humans have always been asking questions that we could never answer. How the world was created? What happens after death? What is the purpose in life? Those are the kinds of questions humans asked a long time ago, and someone created stories that answered these questions; even if they had no proof.¡±
?But¡why?? Devotion asked, blinking in confusion. ?Is there a need to know those answers? Those questions either have obvious answers or just cannot be answered.?
¡°They¡¯re obvious? What are they, then?¡± Pryce asked, amused. He felt like he had a pretty good idea of what answers they would give.
?We do not know how the world was created, but knowing would not change anything. What happens after death is what happens before one is hatched, the purpose of life is to live,? Fortitude said succinctly, and the others seemed to have no issue with these answers.
¡°I guess humans are just different,¡± Pryce shrugged. ¡°Most people wouldn¡¯t be satisfied with those answers ¨C wait, was that part about the egg literal?¡± he asked Fathom.
¡°What do you mean?¡±
¡°Is she saying that dead dragons become new eggs?¡± Pryce asked.
¡°Of course not,¡± Fathom snorted, looking at him in an odd way. ¡°She is saying that after death there is nothing, just like how there is nothing before someone becomes an egg. I told you this before; dragon lives are like flames.¡±
¡°Okay, I just wanted to make sure she wasn¡¯t saying something new.¡±
Fathom paused, then said, ¡°Wait, what you said doesn¡¯t make any sense; how would a dead dragon become an egg? Is that something else humans believe in?¡± he asked ludicrously.
¡°...yes?¡± Pryce said, knowing how bizarre the concept of reincarnation sounded to someone unfamiliar with the concept.
¡°That doesn¡¯t make any sense at all, your population grows; where would the new people even come from?¡±
¡°I never said I believed in it,¡± Pryce said defensively.
¡°How many people believe in this?¡± Fathom asked, eyes narrowed dubiously.
¡°It¡¯s called reincarnation, and maybe¡20 percent?¡±
¡°Ten million. Ten million humans believe in this.¡±
¡°Yeah, okay, I get that it sounds ridiculous, but there¡¯s a good reason why people want to believe in this-¡± Fathom snorted, skeptical of this. ¡°-people really don¡¯t like dying, so it¡¯s nice to think that you might get another chance to live after death, another life to fix mistakes.¡±
?What is he saying?? Fortitude asked plaintively, and Fathom¡¯s translation resulted in many similar sentiments ¨C much to Pryce¡¯s consternation.
?Maybe it is because they live such short lives,? Fortitude mused once most of her incredulity had passed.
?I feel a little bad for them,? Devotion admitted while Celeste glanced at him with a sympathetic air.
¡°Might as well explain everything,¡± Pryce sighed, feeling slightly nettled by their pity. ¡°Old stories that explain the world are called religions, and there are two big ones: Unaism and Rotaism. The first has one god, while the second has two gods.¡±
¡°You haven¡¯t explained gods to them yet,¡± Fathom reminded.
¡°Oh, right.¡± Pryce paused for several seconds as he glanced at his notes. He hadn¡¯t done a very good job conveying the concept to Fathom all those days ago. He would have preferred to skip this subject, but it was better to get it over with now than to explain it later at an inconvenient moment. ¡°People think gods are the ones who created the world. There are old stories of people seeing or talking to gods, but none of them have any real proof that gods exist.¡±
?Then why do humans think they exist at all?? Devotion asked.
?It is easier if you stop asking those kinds of questions; humans are just weird,? Fathom muttered.
Pryce ignored them. ¡°Like I said earlier, the two biggest religions are Unaism and Rotaism. Unaism is the belief that there is only one god named Una, and she created-¡±
¡°She?¡± Fathom interrupted.
¡°Una is supposed to be female, since she¡¯s the mother-creator of all things,¡± Pryce explained. ¡°Now as I was saying, Unaism focuses on the ¡®oneness¡¯ of things, as it states that Una created one sun, one earth, and one island for one people ¨C humans ¨C to live upon.¡±
¡°What about our island? Or the bigger one to the west?¡± Fathom asked.
¡°Humans only learned about them eight years ago, so Unaism never mentioned any. A few people weren¡¯t happy about the satellite imagery since it contradicted their god, while others just believed that Una might have created other lands after making ours.¡±
?It sounds interesting, even if it makes no sense,? Fortitude noted. ?I would not mind listening to the entire story one day.?
¡°We could do that later,¡± Pryce said. It wasn¡¯t a very endearing prospect, but he wouldn¡¯t object to it if they had the time. ¡°But in short, Unaism tells its believers to treat others like you would treat yourself, and to take care of what you have.¡±
¡°How many people believe in this?¡± Fathom asked.
¡°A hundred years ago it was probably close to 50%, but now it¡¯s closer to 20%, I think.¡±
¡°That is a lot of humans. Do people who believe in Unaism not fight each other? Even in wars?¡±
¡°Well¡if they obeyed its teachings, then yes, but it¡¯s like your rules; sometimes people don¡¯t follow them.¡±
Fathom gave an unimpressed huff before turning to translate for the others.
?It sounds annoying, having something to tell you how to act,? Devotion snorted. ?Why does each person not just decide for themselves??
¡°Again, that¡¯s complicated,¡± Pryce shrugged. ¡°I think that¡¯s as much as I can say about Unaism, so let¡¯s move onto Rotaism, which is a bit more complicated.¡±
¡°Great,¡± Fathom muttered.
¡°Rotaism says that the universe began with the birth of two gods, one male and one female. These two gods worked together to create the stars, the sun, and the earth. However, when the time came for them to create life, they began to argue. Linea, the god who was born first, argued that they should not make intelligent creatures, while Rota, the god who was born second, argued for the opposite. In the end, they agreed to create one intelligent animal ¨C humans ¨C to see what would happen.¡± Pryce stopped, and took a much-needed breath. ¡°Linea and Rota were also believed to take turns watching humanity as the sun and moon, but people stopped believing in that as our science progressed.¡± Modern-day adherents considered it a metaphorical representation rather than a literal one.
Celeste rumbled, contemplative. ?If gods can be things like the sun and moon¡I think I understand them a little better. Humans use gods to explain things they do not understand.?
?Humans seem quite¡imaginative,? Fortitude said, sounding vaguely like she might be trying to be polite.
?It seems this ¡®god¡¯ forgot to mention us dragons,? Devotion said drily.
¡°Like I said before, these stories were made thousands of years before any human met a dragon,¡± Pryce said apologetically; it was somewhat mortifying to tell another species about how humans made themselves the ¡®chosen people¡¯ of god or gods. ¡°One thing I should mention is that Rota and Linea are supposed to have created other islands for humanity to find, so it¡¯s gotten more popular in the last eight years. Right now I¡¯d say about 25% of the population believes in it.¡±
¡°Can you elaborate on what these gods are like?¡± Fathom asked. ¡°It sounds more interesting to have two gods than one god.¡±
¡°Sure,¡± Pryce said. ¡°Rota and Linea are two opposites; Rota creates life, and Linea creates death. Without death there is no life, and vice versa. It is believed that Rota wishes for humans to learn and grow, and for us to explore the world that he made for us, while Linea tests us with pain and suffering.¡±
¡°Was Rota the female god?¡± Fathom asked, and Pryce nodded. ¡°It is¡ironic. Rota wanted humans to learn more things, but when they learned what the moon was, they stopped believing it was her.¡±
¡°I never thought about it like that, but¡yeah, I guess so.¡±
?Wait, what about what happens after death?? Celeste asked.
¡°Ah. Sorry, I almost forgot to talk about that. Unaism says good people go to a place called heaven after death, and bad people go to hell after death. Heaven is a good place because there are good people, and hell is a bad place because there are bad people,¡± he explained. ¡°Rotaism says that people who die get reincarnated, and are born as something else.¡±
All the dragons blinked, bemused by these concepts.
?I¡am not sure which questions I should be asking,? Celeste said, a look of consternation in her eyes.
?Maybe it is better if we learn about this later,? Fathom said, which was the first time Pryce had ever heard him say anything of the sort.
?I feel like I do not understand,? Devotion said, flicking her spines once Fathom translated for her. ?These stories are all very bizarre. Would it not have been a better use of time for us to learn your speech??
¡°It¡¯s important because these stories are very important to humans, and these beliefs tell them how to live their lives. I just wanted to teach you about the basics so you won¡¯t be surprised when someone mentions religion, and to ask you not to be insulting,¡± Pryce said, though he had his doubts as to whether or not this plea would be heeded. ¡°Fortitude and Celeste seemed interested in this, so I thought I would teach about it first. We can spend the rest of the day improving your English, unless you¡¯d like to stop for today,¡± he offered.
?Yes, thank you for fulfilling my request ¨C even if this was not what I expected,? Fortitude said. ¡°And I want¡learn English,¡± she said, flattening her spines when she couldn¡¯t finish her sentence without using Draconic. ?But I am hungry; we can start with those lessons after I go hunting.?
Pryce was about to ask how she could go hunting, but then he closed his mouth, feeling a little stupid ¨C of course she could hunt, she still had four working limbs, after all. Five if he counted the tail.
¡°Alright, we¡¯ll get started once you all get something to eat.¡±
[JOURNAL ENTRY]
Day 88,
I¡¯m not sure if I did a good job summarizing human history, but it can¡¯t be helped. Hopefully that won¡¯t cause any problems later.
I find it interesting how dragons don¡¯t even seem to consider the possibility of a higher power. It seems to be a fundamental difference in their mentality ¨C they seem to be perfectly content without a ¡®why¡¯, and instead focus on the ¡®how¡¯, but it doesn¡¯t seem to make sense considering how curious they are.
One additional factor I should take into account: humans live in large groups.
Studies in pack-forming animals show that there tends to be a maximum size to groups, which when exceeded cause it to break apart into two separate factions. Humans are something of an exemption to this rule, and it is speculated that religions and ideologies were the factors that allowed humans to live in groups of thousands rather than mere hundreds. The supposed reason for this is that faith allowed many humans to work together, whereas common interests limited to material goals only lasted so long.
This has another benefit; a stranger could ¨C in only a few words ¨C communicate to another that they share the same values and beliefs, establishing trust and the possibility of future cooperation.
And as far as I know, dragons never needed to do anything like this.
This supports my hypothesis, but a sample size of two isn¡¯t exactly enough for a theory. I¡¯ve got no way to test it, so it¡¯s something to think about later.
We¡¯ll be focusing on teaching the three of them English for the next few days. Hopefully nothing too crazy happens.
Chapter 53, Day 89 – 93: Dragonforged
[JOURNAL ENTRY]
Day 89,
Not much to report today, we (?I?, according to Fathom) spent all day teaching the three of them more English. All three of them are learning quickly, though Celeste is unsurprisingly the fastest. Still, Fortitude doesn¡¯t lag far behind, despite the age difference. Devotion has made the least progress out of the three, though I believe her lack of passion in the subject plays a bigger role here than her intelligence.
That¡¯s not to say she has a complete lack of interest, but I believe she has been trying to learn my language ¡°because she should¡± or ¡°because it will be useful¡± rather than ¡°because I want to.¡±
Fathom and I have decided to check up on the Horizon at least once per day, mostly for sake of mind than anything else.
[Day 90]
-- . ... ... .- --. . / ... - .- .-. - .-.-.-
.-. . - ..- .-. -. / .- ... .- .--. .-.-.- / .. ..-. / .-. . --.- ..- .. .-. . -.. --..-- / .- .-- .- .. - / .-. . ... -.-. ..- . / .- - / . .- ... - / -.-. --- .- ... - --..-- / ..--- ..--- .-.-.- ..... / -.. . --. .-. . . ... / -. .-.-.- / .-. . ... -.-. ..- . / ... .... .. .--. / .-- .. .-.. .-.. / .-.. .- ..- -. -.-. .... / --- -. / -- .. ... ... .. --- -. / -.. .- -.-- / ----. ----- .-.-.- / . - .- ---... / -- .. ... ... .. --- -. / -.. .- -.-- / .---- ----- ----- .-.-.-
-- . ... ... .- --. . / . -. -.. .-.-.-
MESSAGE START.
RESCUE SHIP DAYBREAK HAS DEPARTED FOR THE EASTERN COAST, 22.5 DEGREES N. ETA: MISSION DAY 100.
MESSAGE END.
Pryce didn¡¯t need the table to decode the beginning and end of the message, familiar as they were to him.
This was happening. In ten days there would be more than one human on this island. It was frustrating how he could think of nothing to benefit their future prospects ¨C he was already learning about dragons and teaching them English, but Pryce felt like there was something more that he could be doing, especially when all he was doing was clarifying a few words for Fathom here and there.
?Secrets are hard to keep,? Devotion had said. ?The likelihood of a secret¡¯s death depends on two things: the duration for which it must be kept, and the number of people who know the secret. Telling more people will reduce our own control of the situation, and so it must be avoided until we are as prepared as can be.?
This made a great deal of sense, but Pryce still wasn¡¯t sure why the two hadn¡¯t made more friends in their four hundred-plus years of life.
?Most dragons are either daunted by her or they want to trade things for my art. Usually both,? Fortitude had explained while gesturing to her partner. ?It is difficult to make friends when you have more power than them, and it is not like I have ever needed anyone else in my life.?
So, there was really nothing much for him to do, other than what he was already doing. Pryce opened up his notebook with the intent of recording what he knew of draconic culture, but his mind kept drifting back to the message he had received.
Daybreak. It was a fitting name for something that meant to seek the Horizon.
¡°The rescue ship has left the Mainland,¡± Pryce told Fathom when the dragon woke up. ¡°It''s been named the Daybreak.¡±
¡°You¡don¡¯t sound happy,¡± Fathom noted, blinking drowsily as he rose.
¡°Did something bad happen?¡± Celeste asked, tilting her head.
¡°No, it¡¯s just¡¡± Pryce trailed off, sighing. ¡°I¡¯m not looking forward to telling everyone about what happened to our friends.¡±
Fathom rumbling in thought for a few moments. ¡°I could tell them instead, but I don¡¯t think you want that.¡±
¡°No, I don¡¯t,¡± Pryce said, shaking his head emphatically. ¡°It¡¯s my responsibility. I won¡¯t hide from that.¡±
¡°I thought so,¡± Fathom said as he stood up with a stretch. ¡°Well, if they are your friends then they should understand that it¡¯s not your fault.¡±
¡°Maybe,¡± Pryce shrugged. ¡°Before we left the Mainland, we did a lot of training in preparation for this mission. The best people to send on a rescue mission would be others who did the same training, but weren¡¯t chosen for one reason or another.¡±
¡°So you¡¯re saying that the people on the rescue ship spent time with the people on your ship,¡± Fathom said.
¡°Yeah. We were all¡okay, maybe not all of us were friends, but we respected each other.¡±
?If you respect each other, then why are you worried about their reaction?? Celeste asked, returning to the language she knew best.
¡°I¡¯m not exactly worried, it¡¯s more that I don¡¯t know how to tell them,¡± Pryce said, brushing the hair out of his eyes. ¡°Everyone understood the risk we took, but¡where do I even begin?¡±
To be honest, he was quite worried about how the crew would process all the information he was going to throw at them. He couldn¡¯t imagine dropping in on Fathom and saying ¡°Hey everyone, long time no see, turns out this island is inhabited by sapient dragons, a few of which I¡¯ve befriended. Oh and by the way everyone else who was on the Horizon died before the ship even made landfall.¡±
Fathom narrowed his eyes a little. ¡°Based on what you¡¯ve told me, wouldn¡¯t the first question they ask be about your friends?¡±
¡°Depends on how we meet,¡± Pryce sighed. ¡°If we meet them first then they¡¯re probably going to have questions about you.¡±
¡°There is no good way,¡± Celeste said once she had understood their conversation. ¡°Just¡tell them.¡±
¡°Easier said than done,¡± Pryce grumbled.
Fathom shifted his wings in a shrug. ¡°You don¡¯t have to worry about anyone blaming you for what happened,¡± he said, his jaws parted in a smile.
Pryce raised an eyebrow. ¡°Why is that?¡±
¡°Because if they do, I¡¯m going to hold them upside down until they change their minds.¡±
Pryce snorted, failing to stifle a laugh as he imagined such a scene. Then he paused. ¡°That was a joke, right?¡±
Fathom turned away, neglecting to elaborate. ¡°Maybe? I can¡¯t hear you, busy hunting,¡± he said, his toothy grin widening as he left the cave.
Pryce frowned. He supposed he¡¯d deserved that.
¡°Do not¡be sad?¡± Celeste said, probably meaning ¡°Do not worry¡±. ¡°He will not do that,¡± she reassured, and flashed him a similar smile before she left to follow her father.
Somewhere outside Fathom let out an irritated chuff. ?You ruined my fun.?
?Think of it as payback for what you did with that eel when I was two.?
?Of course you remember that,? Fathom chuffed, and Pryce rolled his eyes as they leapt into the skies, squabbling all the while.
[JOURNAL ENTRY]
Day 90,
Rescue ship ¡°Daybreak¡± has officially set sail. I¡¯m not sure how I¡¯m going to break the news to the crew.
When I did my residency I was always told to break the bad news first if there was nothing the patient could do, but if recovery was feasible then I was told to do the opposite ¨C to give them hope and a reason to pursue it.
This situation definitely falls into the second camp, but (even ignoring the morality of doing so) I can¡¯t see any way to avoid mentioning the whereabouts of the rest of the crew. Providing information on a need-to-know basis won¡¯t work either; damn near everything counts as need-to-know.
Guess I¡¯ll just have to wing it.
In current matters, English classes continue.
A few more days and they should be able to talk about most topics without his help, so things are going well on that front.
Fathom and Celeste decided to hold another competition. The former went first, and hunted a pair of brownish hexapedal lizards with black rings along its body. I¡¯m told they don¡¯t affect a dragon¡¯s pigmentation, so they¡¯re considered somewhat common creatures.
Time spent: 9 minutes 31 seconds.
[JOURNAL ENTRY]
Day 91,
Devotion visited her neighbors today, and she hasn¡¯t heard anything out of the ordinary, so that¡¯s a good sign. Hopefully Trespasser didn¡¯t tell anyone about what he witnessed, and is currently very confused by the disappearance of the Horizon.
In other news, Celeste went hunting and managed to obtain two creatures who resembled very large rodents. They were notably tetrapodal ¨C unlike most creatures on this island ¨C and fairly mundane in their appearance. I¡¯m not surprised that life would chance upon similar solutions for (relatively) similar niches ¨C I imagine these creatures are some sort of omnivore, and serve a similar role to a bear.
Time spent: 9 minutes 50 seconds.
?Nineteen seconds,? Fathom had said. I never thought a number could sound so smug.
[JOURNAL ENTRY]
Day 92,
Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.
Nothing particularly notable happened today, except at the end of the day ¨C Fortitude said she would show me something very interesting tomorrow, though she refused to elaborate on what exactly this would be.
I¡¯m honestly not sure if she thinks she¡¯s following human customs or if she¡¯s just trying to get some payback for making her wait. It¡¯s probably both.
It has to be something about her craft, so I suspect she¡¯s going to show me how she makes clay pottery or how she was able to melt gold into those horn-rings of hers.
[Day 93]
Fathom slid open an eye to see Pryce standing over him.
¡°Hmmm?¡± he rumbled, the drowsy interrogative needing no proper pronunciation.
¡°Are you awake?¡± Pryce inquired.
¡°I am now,¡± Fathom grumbled irritably, still half asleep. Judging by the color of the sky it was still what humans called ¡®twilight¡¯. Why did they have so many words for specific things? Why not just call it almost-morning, like any sensible person would? ¡°Stupid words,¡± he mumbled.
¡°What?¡±
¡°Too early,¡± Fathom grumbled as he slid his eyes back shut. ¡°Sleep more.¡±
¡°It¡¯s not that early.¡±
¡°If we go this early, you would make Devotion angry.¡±
¡°Fine, fine, I¡¯ll wait,¡± Pryce sighed, throwing his hands up as he sat back down on his sleeping bag.
¡°Do you think you¡¯ll be safe here?¡± Fathom asked, casting a doubtful eye at Fortitude. He and Celeste were about to go hunting after a morning of English lessons, and Devotion had already left.
?Of course I will not let him get hurt; I am not stupid,? she said, snorting in derision. She could understand most sentences now, though of course she preferred to speak in her native tongue.
¡°I¡¯ll be fine,¡± Pryce said, feeling rather coddled. He appreciated the concern but Fortitude would be less inclined to show her secrets with Fathom quite literally hovering over his shoulder, and Pryce had been dying all morning to know what she wanted to show him.
It took a minute, but Fathom was eventually convinced to leave, grumbling all the while.
¡°Are you going to show me now?¡± Pryce asked.
?I suppose I have made you wait long enough,? Fortitude said, her jaws parted in a smile. ¡°Yes. But first you promise¡not tell other dragons what I tell you.¡±
¡°I promise not to tell other dragons about what you will show me,¡± Pryce swore.
Fortitude nodded, then turned away. ¡°Good. Follow me.¡±
¡°Aren¡¯t we supposed to do that hand-thing?¡± Pryce asked, jogging in order to catch up to her.
¡°Yes, but you are too small. Hand-thing looks stupid.¡±
She led him a few dozen meters into the nearby forest, where Pryce noticed strange shapes sticking out of the tree trunks, which upon closer inspection were prodigiously sized clam shells.
¡°I use shells like this to get tree-blood,¡± Fortitude said, pulling a shell free and emptying its contents into a clay pot. It seemed she had already harvested all the others earlier, and had only saved this one to serve as a demonstration. She carried this pot back, hobbling on three limbs and one wing-palm for balance.
She led him a short distance away into a secluded cave. Pryce squinted in the dark, and when his eyes adjusted he saw that all corners of the cavern were lined with dozens of works of pottery. The majority had an orange, bumpy texture like the one Fortitude had carried. Another group were mostly brown, but had a glossy sheen to it. Of the latter type, there were a few that seemed to have varying degrees of the glossy translucence seen in modern pottery. Almost all of them had some sort of design etched upon their surface; geometric patterns, symbols, and icons decorated the faces of these containers, while a few depicted dragons and other native inhabitants of this island.
¡°Amazing,¡± Pryce breathed, awed by literal centuries of work before him. ¡°Can I touch one of these pots?¡± He asked, holding a hand out mid-extension.
Fortitude rumbled, a deep and uncertain noise. ¡°Why? Humans have pots too.¡±
¡°Would you want to touch and see human clay pots?¡±
¡°...Yes.¡±
¡°Maybe one day you can see them,¡± Pryce chuckled, then paused in realization. ¡°Actually, I can show you some small ones later today. Remind me to do that.¡±
Fortitude¡¯s eyes lit up, and she seemed to hesitate for a moment before saying, ¡°If you are very careful, you can touch this one,¡± she said, gesturing to a small, but pretty pot ¨C one of the glossier ones. ¡°I tried many years to make pots shiny¡erhm¡¡± she made an annoyed sound, and explained in Draconic, ?It takes much effort just to make one pot, and whenever I try something different the result is usually worse, sometimes different, and very rarely better.?
¡°Understood,¡± Pryce said. Like always, he couldn¡¯t understand all of what she said, but he comprehended enough to get the gist of her words. Reaching out, he gently brushed a finger against the hard, slightly uneven surface. The material itself was somewhat crude and a little ugly, but its meticulous design belied the skill Fortitude had honed through centuries of trial-and-error research.
¡°This really is amazing,¡± Pryce said, aware he was repeating himself. ¡°How do you make this red color?¡± he asked, inspecting the pot¡¯s simplistic yet aesthetically pleasing geometric patterns. It seemed to be similar to the red wooden dragon she had shown him days ago, albeit darker. If he had to guess, it was probably the same pigment applied through a different method, seeing as it appeared to be underneath the glaze.
¡°I make a big fire, wait for big fire to almost die, then I put a metal pot with tree branches inside on almost dead fire. Tree branches dry, and I crush to make something like red sand,¡± she explained. ¡°If I add water, red sand becomes red water that I can use.¡±
¡°I¡¯m surprised you¡¯re telling me all this, even if you made me promise,¡± Pryce said.
¡°I am trusting you to you heal me, these things are much less important,¡± Fortitude said, shrugging a wing dismissively. ¡°I have also not told you the details, so you can tell Fathom we talked about making things if you want.¡±
¡°That makes sense. Can you show me the metal pot?¡± he asked eagerly.
Fortitude¡¯s iron pot was about what Pryce expected, a simple, crude-but-effective cast-iron pot, about the size of a large bowl.
Pryce frowned at the object, and wondered how on earth Fortitude could have made this. She might be able to use clay as a crucible, but wood fire didn¡¯t burn hot enough to melt iron, and even charcoal required a fairly sophisticated furnace. Hydrogen burned more than hot enough, but he wasn¡¯t sure if dragons had enough of it to melt any significant amount of iron. Could she have used coal?
¡°How did you make this?¡± he asked, deeply impressed. ¡°You¡¯d probably need to have dug a pit, and then¡¡±
¡°Pit?¡± Fortitude asked blankly.
¡°A pit is a¡hole in the ground?¡± Pryce tried.
¡°...Hole?¡±
¡°Um¡low, round thing in the ground?¡± Pryce said, gesturing awkwardly. He really wasn¡¯t sure how to describe such a thing without an example.
Regardless, Fortitude seemed to understand. ¡°Yes. I make tall thing with stone and mud over pit, make fire with half-burnt wood or blackstone, melt small pieces of iron in clay pot, then give it shape with rock. I fail many, many times to make this,¡± she added, shuddering as she recalled those unsuccessful attempts. ¡°Gold ring and clay pot is made in a similar way, but still different. Need to use bigger or smaller fire for different amounts of time.¡±
Pryce grimaced, glancing at the deceptively unimpressive container. ¡°I believe you. It took humans thousands of years to make metal tools like this, but you did it yourself. Very impressive.¡± He was pretty sure the ¡®tall thing¡¯ she mentioned was a furnace, half-burnt wood was just charcoal, and ¡®blackstone¡¯ could only be coal.
Fortitude seemed to enjoy this praise, though he thought he saw her spines falter a little before returning to their normal position.
¡°Can you show me human pottery now?¡± she asked. ¡°I can go with you to the place you sleep.¡±
Pryce opened his mouth to say that it would be easier if he went with Fathom, but closed it as he realized that might be insulting. ¡°Yes, I can show you the one I have where I sleep.¡±
It would only be a short walk, maybe ten minutes. If he were alone then he would have never considered such a thing, but Fortitude¡¯s presence made the threat of any local predators a non-issue. This resulted in an unexpected opportunity to observe the environment from the ground for once. The local flora, though foreign, did not appear completely alien. After all, a shrub or a tree could only be so different, though they occasionally come across very odd plants.
That wasn¡¯t to say there were no oddities. One such plant greatly resembled a pitcher, and a closer inspection revealed a surprising amount of water-like liquid inside of it.
¡°You¡move like a hatchling,¡± Fortitude rumbled, her eyes narrowed in amusement. ¡°This plant eats bugs, but you can drink this water.¡± She paused for thought, then amended, ¡°dragons can drink this water. You maybe get sick.¡±
¡°Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯m not going to drink weird plant water,¡± Pryce chuckled.
¡°Good,¡± she said, then nodded towards another strange plant. ¡°This plant is sweet.¡±
¡°Sweet?¡± Pryce asked, momentarily bemused by the dragon¡¯s usage of youthful slang. The shrub in question had a large base that supported an odd structure that almost resembled an elongated tongue, except it was half a meter tall with odd dew-tipped hairs jutting out the sides of the ¡°tongue¡±.
¡°This plant also eat bugs, it¡go like this,¡± Fortitude said, and demonstrated by licking dew off the plant. Pryce blinked in surprise as the plant immediately began to curl in on itself with surprising alacrity. Under normal circumstances it might have trapped an unsuspecting insect, but the predatory plant¡¯s efforts were currently in vain.
¡°Oh, the water on the plant is sweet,¡± Pryce said in realization. That must be how it attracted its prey. It made sense, but it was still bizarre to see a plant move so quickly. He doubted this would pose a threat to anyone, but it did make him wonder if there were any plants that he should watch out for.
¡°Move now,¡± Fortitude said impatiently, nudging him towards the camp.
¡°Alright, alright,¡± Pryce chuckled, and they resumed their trip.
Another few minutes Pryce sat in his campsite, with Fortitude peering curiously over his shoulder as he dug through his belongings.
¡°Here it is,¡± Pryce said, holding a cup up for Fortitude¡¯s perusal. He had never quite liked drinking out of canteens, which was why he¡¯d brought this ceramic mug with him. To him, it was the plainest cup imaginable, but to Fortitude¡
¡°No¡markings, and so white,¡± she said, an indecipherable expression on her face. ¡°...this is a tool, not art¡but it is still more beautiful than any art I have made.¡±
Pryce wasn¡¯t sure what to say in response to that.
Fortitude continued, evidently not expecting an answer. ¡°If you have things like this, then why do you think my art is¡amazing?¡± Fortitude asked, eyeing him intently. It didn¡¯t show in her tone, but Pryce thought her eyes had a forlorn quality to them.
Pryce pressed his lips together and took a few moments to formulate his response. ¡°Why are things beautiful?¡± he asked.
Fortitude cocked her head, confused by the apparent non-sequitur. ¡°Things are beautiful because they are beautiful. That is obvious.¡±
¡°Maybe, but I think one reason why things are beautiful is because they are rare, does that make sense?¡±
Fortitude rumbled doubtfully as she considered this. ¡°No, if something is ugly and rare then it is useless.¡±
¡°True,¡± Pryce chuckled, ¡°but what if shiny things were very common? Would you like them less?¡±
She paused, thinking for longer this time. ¡°I would still think they are beautiful, but¡yes, I would not want them as much,¡± she admitted. ¡°Why are you asking about this?¡±
¡°These cups are very common,¡± Pryce said, gesturing to the item in her taloned hands. ¡°But the things you make are the only ones that exist in this world.¡±
¡°Exist?¡±
¡°Sorry, that means ¡®thing that someone can touch and see¡¯,¡± he explained.
Fortitude blinked, and hummed in thought. ¡°You think the things I create are beautiful, even if humans can make things that are much better?¡±
¡°Of course. You know, most humans don¡¯t really discover new things.¡± Fortitude blinked, then tilted her head in thought. ¡°Almost all of the things we know how to do we learned from others, but you¡¯re different. It took humans thousands of years to do what you¡¯ve done in only a few hundred.¡±
Fortitude said nothing, and only sat down on her haunches to stare at the white mug, ¡°If another dragon could make something like this, she would¡laugh at me.¡± Pryce looked blank, so she added, ¡°Laugh is the thing you do when you think something is funny.¡±
¡°Oh, that¡¯s ¡®laugh¡¯,¡± Pryce said with a frown. ¡°And that¡¯s¡not nice.¡±
¡°I mean it is¡natural for that to happen. I would do the same,¡± Fortitude said, shrugging candidly. ¡°So I do not understand why you are like this.¡±
Pryce rubbed his chin and decided to try a metaphor. ¡°...where you can fly is not as important as how fast you can fly. Does that make sense?¡±
¡°...I can not fly,¡± Fortitude said drily, then chortled in laughter when Pryce made an awkward, sputtering explanation. ¡°That is a joke. I know what you want to say.¡±
¡°Funny,¡± Pryce sighed, too relieved to be that she hadn¡¯t taken offense to be annoyed.
Fortitude let out a few more chuckles before falling silent. She turned her head up to eye him thoughtfully. ¡°You value things that people learn alone?¡±
¡°...yes,¡± Pryce said after a moment¡¯s thought.
¡°But humans learn things from others. Do you not value this?¡± she asked, tilting her head in confusion.
¡°I value both,¡± Pryce clarified, then frowned as he considered how to word his response. ¡°But I respect those who are the first to discover things, and teach it to others.¡±
¡°I understand,¡± Fortitude nodded, then turned to look at the sun. ¡°I also like making things, because I was the first to make things like I did ¨C because I thought I was the first,¡± she clarified. ¡°But if I learn how humans make these, then I can use what I know, and make new discoveries no one under the sun has found.¡± She said this with the air of a declaration, but not without side-eyeing Pryce to see how this would be received.
Pryce grinned. ¡°I think that¡¯s a beautiful idea.¡±
[JOURNAL ENTRY]
Day 93,
It¡¯s not every day you get to learn about the technology of another species. It was really something to see what a single individual could do with centuries of hard work.
Fathom asked me about what Fortitude and I discussed today. I told him that I couldn¡¯t tell him since I made a promise, which made him a bit grumpy. I could have told him, since Fortitude herself gave permission, but I¡¯d rather not break my promises outside of extremis.
That didn¡¯t stop him from guessing, though, especially when he saw things had been moved in our camp. Interestingly, he wasn¡¯t able to pick up on Fortitude¡¯s scent. I suppose that means a dragon¡¯s sense of smell isn¡¯t quite as keen as their other senses.
Chapter 54, Day 94 – 95: Discovery
Pryce unclipped himself with somewhat practiced ease as he dropped onto the deck of the Horizon. He was getting used to flying, though it still made his thighs ache a little ¨C he noted with some amusement that dragons were not terribly ergonomic.
Celeste landed shortly afterwards on the opposite side of the ship, maneuvering a little awkwardly as she landed in the relatively cramped space.
¡°There¡¯s nothing much for you to do here, is it really that interesting to stare at the ship for hours?¡± Pryce asked.
¡°Yes,¡± Celeste said, peering at the rigging of the ship. ¡°You still have not explained what these long things are all for.¡±
¡°Those are used to adjust the sail. It takes many humans to do that properly, so I can¡¯t use it,¡± Pryce explained. ¡°I¡¯ll be down in the cargo hold for a long time, you two can come back tomorrow if you want.¡±
¡°No,¡± Fathom huffed resolutely. ¡°What if another dragon like Trespasser lands on the ship?¡±
¡°If that happened then I would still be safe, just like I was back then,¡± Pryce pointed out. ¡°It¡¯s not like you could fight them very well here, and a fight would probably cause more damage than if you just let them wander around.¡±
¡°We shouldn¡¯t just let them do whatever they want,¡± Fathom grumbled, obstinate as always.
¡°And what if you fell overboard while fighting? Aren¡¯t you worried about the predators in the sea?¡±
¡°It is rare for a dragon to disappear while swimming in the sea¡¡± Fathom said, shifting his wing dismissively as he avoided the question.
"Ships that close to land are rarely attacked by leviathans," Pryce said, glancing at the ocean. "Have either of you ever been this far away from land before?"
"No," Celeste said.
"Yes," Fathom said before sheepishly admitting, "...while flying."
¡°So let''s avoid fighting this far out from land. If they want to fight for some reason then there''s nothing you can do, but you should at least talk to them first."
¡°He is right,¡± Celeste muttered reluctantly. Had she been hoping for a fight?
Fathom closed his mouth and narrowed his eyes, looking like one who knew they''d lost an argument but still refused to back down.
¡°I know you¡¯re worried,¡± Pryce said, using a gentler tone. ¡°But no one can hurt me as long as I¡¯m inside the ship. I''ll be okay even if you leave and come back tomorrow.¡±
Fathom sighed. ¡°Fine, but I¡¯m not leaving until the sun sets.¡± He sprawled out to take a nap, and looked quite immovable.
For a moment Celeste seemed to consider following her father¡¯s example, but ultimately returned to inspecting the ropes and pulleys. If Pryce had to guess, she was probably trying to figure out how they worked on her own.
He shrugged and went to work.
[JOURNAL ENTRY]
Day 94,
I feel like Fathom''s gotten a little more protective since the Trespasser incident. If the roles were reversed I''d probably also be worried about my ankle-high friend, so it''s not as if I don''t get where he''s coming from. Still, it would be annoying if he tried to stop me from doing anything moderately dangerous.
I¡¯ll be sleeping on the Horizon tonight so I can continue working first thing tomorrow. Working was difficult but not impossible with the ship steadily bobbing up and down with the waves, so I should be done sometime later tomorrow.
Note: Synthesized 56.89 grams of penicillin today.
Total quantity of Penicillin-G produced: 242.58 grams.
[Day 95]
¡°Tell me more things about human technology,¡± Fortitude said, speaking slowly in English for practice. ¡°Pryce has showed you more of it than anyone else.¡±
¡°Pryce has shown,¡± Fathom corrected. ¡°What do you want to know about?¡±
¡°I do not know things I do not know,¡± Fortitude snorted in exasperation. ¡°Their iron, glass, and clay cups are very beautiful, but do you know about other things I have not seen?¡±
¡°Yes,¡± Fathom nodded. ¡°There is ¨C wait, when did you see a clay cup? Was that what happened two days ago?¡± he asked, putting the pieces together.
¡°Yes,¡± Fortitude said, her head bobbing enthusiastically. ¡°He let me see his clay cup after I told him how I made things.¡±
Fathom narrowed his eyes. ¡°Why did you tell me if you made him promise not to tell any other dragons?¡±
¡°Oh, I just wanted to see if he would follow his promises, even if I said it was ok to tell you,¡± Fortitude said casually before peering at him interestedly. ¡°Did he tell you nothing at all?¡±
Fathom tossed his head in a negative, remembering how the human rather annoyingly ¨C if understandably ¨C refused to renege on the promise.
¡°I don¡¯t remember you asking him about this,¡± Celeste said. ¡°When did this happen?¡±
¡°You left to drink water when we flew home, remember?¡±
Celeste paused, then nodded in understanding as she recalled her short absence. "So that is why you looked annoyed."
¡°I did not think he would tell you nothing,¡± Fortitude admitted as she glanced at Devotion, who had a mildly surprised look on her face that belied her knowledge of the scheme ¨C in fact, taking her personality into account, Fathom was certain that she had been the one to suggest it in the first place.
¡°And was this all your idea?¡± Fathom asked Fortitude, expecting a negative.
¡°Of course," she replied easily.
Fathom blinked.
¡°What? I wanted to sense what type of¡mind he has,¡± Fortitude said with a casual shrug of her wings.
¡°I don¡¯t see why you needed to do that,¡± Fathom scoffed, holding his head austerely. ¡°I have already told you that you can trust him.¡±
¡°I trust things I see,¡± Fortitude said good-naturedly. ¡°You understand, yes?¡±
¡°We are stupid if we believe you without¡without evidence,¡± Devotion said more bluntly.
¡°''We would be stupid if we believed you without evidence'',¡± Celeste corrected. ¡°I don''t see the harm in their actions,¡± she added to her father.
¡°I suppose,¡± Fathom grumbled, and looked out to the sea. ¡°Pryce should be done soon. Do you want to come with me?¡± he asked Celeste.
¡°Isn¡¯t it a little early?¡± she replied, glancing at the sun and seeing that it was a little past noon.
¡°If we¡¯re early then you can look at the ship while we wait,¡± Fathom pointed out.
?Wait,? Fortitude interjected just as Celeste turned to leave. ?Do you think Pryce would let me go with you tomorrow??
?You want to come with us?? Devotion asked, reverting back to Draconic in her surprise. ?But who will protect our territory? And your art??
Fathom found that he couldn''t quite resist himself. ?''A dragon who takes your territory will either be stronger or weaker than you. If they are weaker, you can just take it back.''?" He quoted smugly. "That was what you said, was it not?"
The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
Devotion whipped her head around to glare at Fathom. "I am not speaking with you, impudent brat!" she hissed before snapping back to her partner, who remained completely unbothered by her outburst.
?Someone would have to be very stupid to steal those,? Fortitude shrugged, then added, "Even if they did, I can always make better ones ¨C at least once I learn from the humans.?
?Learn from them?? Devotion echoed. ?Are you thinking of going to the human land?? she asked, her eyes widened with incredulity.
?Why not? They will not be coming here to make art, so if I want to learn then I will need to go to them,? Fortitude said reasonably.
¡°What if-¡± Celeste tried to interject, but was interrupted by Devotion.
?When were you going to tell me that you were thinking about this?? Devotion demanded.
?I just did,? her partner pointed out.
?You know what I meant,? Devotion groused. ?We know almost nothing about these humans, and we would be putting ourselves at their mercy. Is that really worth the risk??
?Of course it is!? Fortitude said, her eyes wide with excitement. ?We can be the first dragons to walk upon another island!?
?That-? Devotion said, then paused as she considered this. ?-is still not worth the risk,? she said, though the idea clearly had some sway with her.
?What if you just move things onto the ship?? Celeste asked.
?What?? the two elder dragons asked, turning away from their squabble.
?Why not just move your art onto the ship??
?¡oh,? Fortitude said. ¡°Good idea; I should have thought of that."
?I suppose it is better than leaving it all here,? Devotion grumbled uncharitably.
?Do you know if Pryce will let us go back with him?? Fortitude asked, an interested glint in her eyes.
¡°No, you will have to ask him to be sure,¡± Fathom said uncertainly. He wasn¡¯t sure if Pryce would have liked him to encourage them or not, so he felt it was best not to get their hopes up. ¡°Anyway, it is about time for us to go check up on Pryce,¡± he said to Celeste, and they flew off towards the Horizon together.
He had hoped to be the first dragon to visit the Mainland, but he wondered as he soared over the ocean; if the ship could only carry one dragon, who would Pryce choose?
[JOURNAL ENTRY]
Day 95,
Today was a work day, so nothing out of the ordinary happened.
Note: Synthesized 40.24 grams of penicillin today.
Total quantity of Penicillin-G produced: 282.82 grams.
¡°...and that is what they want to ask you,¡± Fathom said as Pryce copied the results of the day''s work into his journal.
The dragons had been early in picking him up ¨C so early, that Celeste grew bored of inspecting the ship and had taken a nap along with her father. The two of them had only woken a few minutes ago to summarize the discussion they had with the two older dragons.
Pryce closed his journal, uncertain of how best to respond. ¡°Well, I¡¯m glad they¡¯re enthusiastic about this, but I think we¡¯ll need to wait until the Daybreak arrives to talk about it.¡± He would have loved to bring them along, but there were just too many problems to deal with. ¡°We were building several ships like the Horizon, so they¡¯ll almost definitely send one of those. In that case we could fit four dragons pretty comfortably, but we''d be in trouble if we met a storm ¨C you''d be knocked into the ocean unless we could somehow tie you down, and that''s not to mention food! You''d need enough to last at least ten days ¨C fifteen to be safe.¡±
¡°Tied down?" Celeste asked, and she had to have the concept explained to her by Fathom, who didn''t seem very enthused by the idea.
"Can''t I just hold onto the ship?" Celeste asked, demonstrating by way of digging onto the tarmac with her serrated talons.
"Storms can last for days," Pryce said, shaking his head. "You can''t hold on for that long, can you?"
"I could try¡" she grumbled mulishly.
"We only need to be tied down if there''s a storm, right?" Fathom asked, his eyes narrowed.
"Of course, and we could make it so that you could free yourself any time you wanted."
Fathom rumbled as he thought over the idea. "We''ll talk about it later. The food won''t be a big problem ¨C I won''t need to eat for another seven days if I ate as much as I could. I might be able to last ten if I don''t move much. Can''t humans do that?" He asked curiously.
"No, we can''t," Pryce said drily. "...okay that¡¯s technically a lie. Some humans have survived for longer than twenty days by only drinking water, but it¡¯s not healthy and definitely not comfortable."
¡°That¡¯s a lot longer than a dragon can survive without food for,¡± Fathom said, sounding mildly surprised. ¡°...at least I think it¡¯s longer. I have never heard of a dragon starving to death.¡± He cocked his head. ¡°Oh, right, humans sometimes don¡¯t have enough food.¡±
¡°Yeah, that¡¯s something that happened a lot in the past, but not anymore,¡± Pryce said, waving a hand dismissively. ¡°Why didn¡¯t you tell me you could do this earlier?¡±
¡°I didn''t know it was unusual,¡± Fathom said prosaically, ¡°and eating so much makes me sleepy.¡±
"We also can¡¯t fly afterwards,¡± Celeste provided. ¡°At least not without emptying our stomach first."
¡°Makes sense.¡±
"Is there anything else that might be a problem?" Fathom asked, tilting his head. "You have mentioned that dragons might get sick on the Mainland."
¡°I would very much prefer it if only one of you came back with us, as a test,¡± Pryce admitted. ¡°We might have a problem if they insist on coming along, since I have no way of stopping them. Maybe we should tell them that it''s unlikely to happen.¡± There were benefits to having several draconic representatives instead of one, but he wasn''t sure if those outweighed the drawbacks.
¡°Fortitude won''t be happy about that,¡± Fathom rumbled, sounding somewhere between amused and anxious. The dragon remained silent for a moment, looking unsure of himself.
"Is¡something wrong?" Pryce asked worriedly.
Fathom seemed to mull over his words for a few more moments before hesitantly asking, ¡°If only one dragon could go with you, who would you choose?¡±
¡°You, of course,¡± Pryce said, a little confused. ¡°Why do you ask?¡±
Fathom blinked, and shifted a little. ¡°I thought that you might think Fortitude would be a better choice; she is much older than me, and she knows how to make many things that humans will be interested in.¡± His head lowered a little, and he added, ¡°Not like me, I don¡¯t know how to make anything special.¡±
¡°First of all, I¡¯m pretty sure Devotion would kill me if I did that,¡± Pryce said, only half-joking, ¡°and second of all, you were the dragon who saved my life and the one who learned English first. People would want to meet you more than Fortitude ¨C it would be a little awkward to tell people that this is actually the third or fourth dragon I met, after all.¡±
¡°That¡makes sense,¡± Fathom said after a moment¡¯s thought. "Also, your second thing was three or four things."
Pryce paused. ¡°Guess I got carried away listing reasons. The main point is that I trust you the most, so bringing you is an obvious choice.¡±
Fathom was silent for a second, then he nodded before holding his head a little higher than before.
¡°What about me?¡± Celeste asked, startling Pryce.
¡°...second choice?¡± Pryce said, feeling as though any other answer would be incorrect. She was probably the one most likely to listen to him save for Fathom, so it wasn''t a complete lie.
¡°Good,¡± she said, nodding contentedly.
¡°Let¡¯s fly back and get some rest, we¡¯re leaving tomorrow around noon. Also, please don¡¯t tell the others about this. I don¡¯t want them to start asking me for their rankings.¡±
¡°So, Fathom said you wanted to come to the Mainland?¡± Pryce asked Fortitude as he unclipped himself from Fathom¡¯s neck.
¡°Yes,¡± Fortitude nodded, ¡°do you think-¡±
She was cut off by a distant roar, one that pulled all their heads to the same direction.
¡°Who¡¯s that?¡± Pryce asked warily. Judging by the lack of urgent response from the others, this probably wasn''t an attack.
¡°I know this dragon,¡± Fathom said, good eyes narrowed. "That wasn¡¯t a challenging roar; he has come to visit,¡± he clarified.
¡°His name is Wheihrn, he is a neighbor,¡± Fortitude said. ¡°You need to hide, go into my cave, and do not touch anything,¡± she added as Pryce rushed in.
¡°You should take those off,¡± Pryce heard Celeste say, and Fathom quickly went to hide the chains that he wore. By the time he''d returned, Wheihrn ¨C a solid red male ¨C was only a few beats away, and he positioned himself to casually shield his previously injured wing from view.
?Greetings,? the red dragon said, peering in surprise at Fathom. ?Huroumh-?, I am surprised to see you here.?
?Greetings, Wheihrn-?,? Fathom said, nodding cordially, ?It has been some time.?
?Ah, yes,? Wheihrn said as he returned the gesture, but not without eyeing what he could see of Fathom''s wings ¨C no doubt attempting to appraise his threat level. ?It is a shame that a prodigious fighter such as yourself suffered such an injury. Still, I would have liked to have a rematch ¨C at least, under normal circumstances."
?I-? Fathom said, and caught himself just in time. As infuriating as it was, he''d have to let Wheihrn believe he was still injured, lest the male become suspicious. ?I would have liked that as well,? he said begrudgingly.
?Are you saying something unusual has happened? Are you not here to trade again?¡± Fortitude asked, most likely attempting to distract Wheihrn.
?I am afraid not,? the red male said, appearing genuinely regretful. ?No, I have come bearing some very interesting news.?
?Oh?¡± Devotion asked. ?And what do you want for this information??
?Nothing but goodwill, seeing as how everyone will be talking about it soon, ? the red male said, shrugging dismissively. ?Have you heard about the news regarding Qnaoro??
?Qnaoro?¡± Celeste asked. ?I have spoken to him once before. He seems to pass by every few years, and last I heard he was still a wanderer. Why do you ask? Has he done something notable??
?In a sense,? Wheihrn said, tilting his head side to side before excitedly announcing. ?The news is that he has found a strange creature from another land, one who calls herself a human.?
Chapter 55, Day 95: Course Correction
Fathom was faintly aware that he was staring, but he just couldn''t bring himself to stop. A storm of thoughts burned within his mind, ideas flickering in and out of existence as he struggled to reconcile truth and reality.
Where did this human come from? Had she been a member of Pryce¡¯s crew? Or had a second ship already arrived? He discarded that option immediately; Pryce would have heard from the Mainland if that were the case, and the rescue ship had only left a hand of days ago, so it couldn¡¯t be them either, especially when Qnaoro found ¡®a¡¯ human, not multiple humans.
It could also be a lie. Someone would have only had to have overheard them, after all.
?...a creature from another land? How can you know that?? Fathom asked, his entire being focused on pretending to have never heard of a "human" before. The others had not yet spoken; they only stared in wide eyed surprise ¨C though likely not for reasons Wheihrn was expecting.
?She said so,? Wheihrn snorted candidly. ?It does make sense. I have never heard of anyone describing a creature like her before ¨C forgive me, I should have started from the beginning.? He tilted his head for a moment, evidently gathering his thoughts. ?Mohnwa is the one who told me this, and he heard it from Eosmn, who heard it from Xhorhw, who was the one who found Qnaoro with this human. Apparently he has taught her to understand a little of our speech, and he has even learned some of hers ¨C though it sounds very strange ¨C that is how he was able to learn that she came from another land.?
?If she can speak then she must have a name, right?? Celeste asked, her genuine curiosity effectively masking her confusion.
?She says her name is Jay-ng-cah-llan, but I do not know if this is accurate after being told by so many dragons,? Wheihrn answered, flicking his nictitating membranes in bemusement. ?Such a strange name.?
?Yes¡that is a very odd sound,? Fathom said, doing his best to sound neutral. ?I assume almost everyone will be flying over to see this human?? he asked, hoping to learn as much as possible about this human for Pryce¡¯s sake ¨C no other explanation made sense, she had to be a survivor of his crew, though he had not the slightest idea how this could have happened.
?Not quite,? Wheihrn said, shrugging his wings. ?Qnaoro had insisted to Xhorhw that he wished to tell everyone everything at the solstice celebration ¨C the one in the fourth province, since that is the one closest to them ¨C and then he disappeared afterwards. No one knows where either or them are at the moment.?
?This sounds like a mess about to happen,? Devotion huffed. ?A normal celebration is chaotic enough, I cannot imagine a gathering of hundreds more.?
Wheihrn shifted his wings noncommittally. ?It will be, but it cannot be helped. In a few days, every dragon alive will know what I have told you. This might be the largest gathering in thousands of years.? He stared at the others, who had remained oddly silent. ?You do not seem very excited, I thought you would be very interested to hear this, Jooral-?.?
?Oh, I was just thinking,? Fortitude replied, half-lying with ease. ?These are extraordinary claims, so I would prefer to see this human for myself, but¡? she trailed off, ruefully shifting her wings.
?Ah. I did not mean to offend,? Wheihrn said, bowing his head apologetically. ?I will be going myself, of course; I can tell you what I learned when I return,? he offered.
?That would be appreciated,? Fortitude said, tilting her head at a polite angle.
?When did Qnaoro find this ¡®human¡¯?? Devotion asked. Her tone could have been interpreted as skeptical, but to Fathom it sounded suspicious. He realized that from her perspective, it may have seemed that Pryce had lied about being the only human on this island.
Fathom shifted slightly closer to the cave entrance.
?An entire moon ago!? Wheihrn groused, tossing his head in exasperation. ?Qnaoro claimed he did so because it would be easier for everyone to learn about the human once he was able to understand her, but it is still ridiculous that he kept this a secret for so long. I have a feeling we only learned about her at all because Xhorhw discovered them by accident.?
Devotion snorted with convincing disdain. ?You cannot expect a lifelong wanderer like him to be very sensible.?
?What are we going to do about this human?? Celeste asked uncertainly. ?Do you think we could find out where she came from??
?I am sure everyone wants to learn that,? Wheihrn nodded. ?She cannot have come from very far, as Qnaoro said he found her on a small island. I heard she has strange things that seem to have been created by other humans. Perhaps they were able to make something to float across the ocean? They are very small, so a large piece of wood might have worked,? he mused.
?That¡is possible,? Celeste said with a hesitant nod.
?Is there anything else that you know about this human?? Devotion asked.
?No,? Wheihrn tossed his head ruefully. ?Like I said, Qnaoro did not tell Xhorhw much about them, and he disappeared when Xhorhw left, most likely to remain unbothered until the solstice.?
They talked for a little while longer, but the red dragon didn''t have much else to say. He soon excused himself, saying that he wished to spread this news to other dragons before flying away.
?...he has found a strange creature from another land, one who calls herself a human.?
Pryce had a bad feeling the moment he heard the Draconic word for "news", but he was in no way prepared to hear the word "human" spoken in his own tongue.
He was so stunned that for a few moments his mind simply stopped working, until a deluge of questions flooded to the forefront of his consciousness.
How? Another human ¨C who? No, not possible. Is this a lie?
Too early to be the rescue crew, only one human found(?)
Has to be a survivor ¨C crewmate.
A crewmate has survived ¨C not possible, all confirmed dead except¡except the missing bodies.
Someone survived! Someone survived this entire time¡alone.
I''ve¡I''ve left someone alone on this island for three months.
The realization made him nauseous, and he just barely caught himself from making any noises.
Fathom broke the silence by asking something, but Pryce didn''t comprehend any of his friend''s words ¨C his mind was occupied with one detail in particular.
Wheihrn had said "her".
There was only one woman among the missing crew members.
This could all still be a lie. This dragon could have learnt about humans from Trespasser, who could have learnt the word while spying on them, or maybe another dragon had done so without any of them the wiser.
But if Wheihrn knew her name, then¡
Pryce forced himself to listen to their conversation despite his raging thoughts.
?If she can speak then she must have a name, right??
Pryce froze, and sat as still as a statue. It couldn''t have taken Wheihrn more than a second to respond, but it felt like he spent an eternity torn between hope and guilt.
?She says her name is Jay-ng-cah-llan, but I-? the rest of the sentence became a wordless noise as reality came crashing down upon him.
Jane Callan was alive.
How did she survive? She met a dragon? When? Where was she?
¡What had she gone through?
He took a quiet, calming breath, and stamped down on his emotions with practiced ease. Even if he ignored his personal responsibility, Callan was still a relatively unknown variable. Her plans might interfere with his own, so finding her was something he had to do, no matter what.
Wheihrn answered questions for another few minutes, during which Pryce attempted to understand what was being said. Under normal circumstances it was usually possible for him to understand the general idea of a sentence, but with so much turmoil in his mind he comprehended less than he would have liked.
In the end, all he was able to glean before Wheihrn left was that Qnaoro ¨C the dragon who found Callan ¨C had disappeared along with her.
Pryce sat in silence as the red dragon said his goodbyes, a plan beginning to take shape in his mind.
¡°Were you able to understand him, Pryce?" Fathom exclaimed, his tail lashing in excitement. "One of your friends survived!¡±
He paused when he saw Pryce, the human''s face set and unsmiling. ¡°What¡¯s wrong? This is good, isn¡¯t it?¡± he pressed.
"Yes," Pryce said shortly. "We need to go. Now." He turned to walk up to Fathom''s side, but was blocked by Devotion.
¡°Did you know about this?¡± she demanded, her eyes narrow and suspicious.
¡°Of course we didn¡¯t, or we would have already tried to find her,¡± Fathom shot back, glaring at Devotion.
¡°I asked him, not you,¡± Devotion spat, spines raised. ¡°Answer me!¡± she hissed, forcing Pryce to take an involuntary step back.
¡°No, I didn¡¯t,¡± Pryce said, answering quickly before Fathom could escalate the argument. ¡°I didn¡¯t know¡Callan was alive¡¡± he trailed off, and left the rest unspoken.
"If you thought she was dead, how is she alive?" Fortitude asked, tapping her partner with a placating wing.
Pryce shook his head. "I don''t know. That''s what we''re going to learn once we find her, and that''s why we need to go now,¡± he repeated, his face a stone mask as he walked up to Fathom¡¯s side and reached for a chain.
¡°Wait,¡± Fathom said, and blocked him with a forelimb.
¡°What?¡± Pryce asked, his tone flat and almost adversarial.
¡°We will wait,¡± Fathom said, gently but firmly. ¡°You are not thinking at all, and she has been alive for a long time, a few minutes will not make a difference.¡±
Pyrce furrowed his brow. "What do you mean "I''m not thinking"?"
"You didn''t understand all of what Wheihrn said, did you?"
Pryce opened his mouth, then pressed his lips into a thin line.
"You also need to tell us your plan," Celeste said, looking faintly confused by his uncharacteristically stilted behaviour.
¡°...Fine," Pryce sighed. "Tell me everything Wheihrn told you.¡±
¡°It seems you did not know,¡± Devotion grumbled once everything had been summarized.
Pryce grimaced, and didn¡¯t quite meet her eyes. "No. I did not."
¡°If you thought she was dead, then how is she alive?¡± Celeste asked.
¡°When I¡looked for everyone''s bodies, there were four who were missing. They must have fallen into the ocean, so I thought they drowned. They should have drowned. It¡¯s not possible, but¡¡±
Devotion tilted her head. ¡°Why is this surprising? Can humans not swim?¡±
¡°We can, but humans don¡¯t float like dragons. It¡¯s very easy to drown in the ocean, especially when they must have fallen in during the storm.¡±
¡°Then¡how did she survive?¡± Fortitude asked.
¡°I don''t know,¡± Pryce shrugged helplessly. ¡°I didn¡¯t think it was possible, but it clearly happened. Wheihrn said that Qnaoro found her on a small island, but I have no idea how she ended up there. None of this makes sense. I must be missing something,¡± he muttered under his breath. ¡°Whatever, there¡¯s something else I wanted to ask: does anyone know anything about Qnaoro? He seems to be keeping Callan safe, but I¡¯d like to know if I can trust him.¡±
"He is 117 years old," Fortitude stated.
"And a wanderer," Devotion huffed disdainfully.
¡°I have seen him twice," Celeste offered. "The first time we met he asked me if I liked to explore, which was a stupid question, because there is nothing left to explore on this island.¡± She paused, then seemed to realize something. "He must have found her while exploring."
"I do not think you should be worried," Fathom added, seeing as how none of these answered his question. "Callan must be safe for him to have a chance at exploring the Mainland, so he will need to protect her."
Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.
¡°That¡¯s good,¡± Pryce sighed, greatly relieved.
¡°Wait, is her name Jay-ng-cah-llan or Callan?¡± Fortitude asked, spines slightly flattened.
¡°Her name is Jane. Callan,¡± Pryce said, enunciating the two words. ¡°You can use either name, but I called her Callan. Wheihrn probably heard it as one word instead of two.¡±
?How mysterious,? Fortitude rumbled. "No one can fly in a storm, and I do not know how Callan could have survived if humans are bad at swimming.¡±
Devotion lowered her head, her eyes narrowed. ¡°What about your plan? How will this affect our promise?¡±
¡°I¡¡± Pryce paused, and sat down on a rock. ¡°I don¡¯t know what to do. The rescue ship is supposed to arrive on day 100, and the summer solstice is on day 102. There¡¯s not much time-¡±
¡°Why don''t you just find her?¡± Fathom asked.
"Find her?" Pryce asked blankly. "How? No one knows where she is, remember?"
"Yes, but you''re a human. You know better than anyone else what she would be thinking," Fathom pointed out. "If you were her, what would you plan to do?"
Pryce frowned. He didn''t see how he could figure out where she would be hiding on this entire island. Humans didn''t even know anything beyond the shape of this land, so their destination had been chosen for convenience more than¨C
"Oh shit." Pyrce widened his eyes at the realization, then just as quickly buried his face in the palm of his hand. "Oh¡oh fucking hell."
Fathom blinked in confusion, his jaws still parted in what was a complacent grin. "What''s wrong?"
"If you get separated from someone, you either go back to where you last saw them or go to your destination, right?" Pryce groaned.
"Yes, that is what I was trying to tell you. What''s the problem?"
"If Callan has the help of a dragon, she''s probably already been at our destination before¡she might even be there right now." Pryce moved to stand up, but was blocked by Fathom swiftly but gently placing one talon on each of his shoulders, trapping him in place.
"I meant we could start looking in that area," Fathom explained, "but she doesn''t have any tools, so she can''t know where 22.5 degrees north is, can she?"
"Of course she can," Pryce scoffed. He tried to move, but the talons refused to budge in the slightest. "It won''t be easy, but 22.5 is a quarter of 90, so it''s not hard to make a good sextant ¨C at least one that¡¯s good enough for us to find her."
"I didn''t think of that," Fathom admitted, "but that''s good news. Why are you upset?"
"Because she''s probably been waiting for weeks!" Pryce cried. "Maybe that''s what she was doing when they were found by that other dragon! Or¡" He paused as another realization occurred to him. "...or maybe she wanted to be found?"
"What do you mean?" Celeste asked.
"What''s the fastest way to spread news on this island? If you were a human, I mean."
Fortitude tilted her head as she caught onto his meaning. "Are you saying she let Xhorhw find her so that news would spread to you?"
"Maybe, maybe not," Pryce shrugged. It seemed like the reckless sort of thing Callan would suggest. "She doesn''t know what happened to our ship, so she doesn''t even know if there''s anyone to find. Qnaoro could talk to other dragons and find out none of them have heard of a human, so she knows there are either no other humans on the island or that they''ve met a few dragons who haven''t told everyone else."
"You have not answered my question," Devotion rumbled irritably. "What is our plan?''
"We go to 22.5 degrees north, same as we already planned," Pryce answered. That was the easy part ¨C everything important is going to be happening there, after all. "After that we look for Callan, she might have left some signs-"
"It would be a good idea to check the¡?landmarks? for messages," Celeste suggested. "?Landmarks? are places with strange rocks or trees. We use them to know where we are."
"Good idea," Pryce nodded. "And those are "landmarks"."
"And after that?" Devotion pressed.
"If we find her then we look for the rescue ship just as we planned before. If we can''t, then¡we do the same, except maybe one of you can fly around and hear what dragons are talking about. We''ll make new plans based on what we hear. Worst case we''ll only be able to find her when she''s speaking to all the other dragons on day 102."
"I will do that," Devotion unexpectedly stated, causing Pryce to look up at her in surprise. ¡°You only need two dragons to patrol, yes? The solstice celebration of the fourth province will be at the Plateau ¨C that is a large flat mountain. I will ask questions, and they will tell me more than they will tell these two,¡± she reasoned as she gestured to Fathom and Celeste with a wing. ¡°It is an obvious solution.¡±
¡°Sounds¡good," Pryce frowned, uncertain if she was the best candidate for information gathering. Then again, her actions had proven her to be far from a brute. "Have you planned anything else?" He asked curiously.
"Yes," she nodded curtly. "I get information from dragons who we trust. When I am done I will bring them to you."
Now that got his attention. "I thought you didn''t want to tell anyone else? What happened to all the reasons you had?"
"That was days ago," Fortitude chimed in, as if that explained everything.
His confusion must have been apparent, for Celeste elaborated, saying, "There are only 7 days left until the solstice. It would not matter very much if other dragons found our ship 6 days from now, so it is not a bad idea to start gathering allies now."
"Makes sense," Pryce nodded. "How many dragons? And do you have anyone specific in mind?"
Fortitude waved the palm-joint of a wing in a dismissive manner. "We are still thinking about this. We will tell you our choices tomorrow."
"Do you have a plan for what we will do if we cannot find her?¡± Devotion asked.
"Not yet," Pryce admitted. "I don''t think the other dragons will just let you bring her back to the ship."
¡°Why not?" Devotion asked. "I do not need to only bring her. I can bring everyone to you, is that not what you wanted?¡±
¡°Yeah but¡I didn''t think it was going to be hundreds of dragons at the time,¡± Pryce said flatly. If the rescue crew arrived two days late then they would be greeted by a literal horde of dragons. Not the most gradual of introductions.
¡°If that happens, then you can just talk to them, like you talked to me,¡± Fathom said, apparently unbothered by this possibility. ¡°That was what we had planned anyway, before you learned there was a rescue ship coming.¡±
¡°I guess that¡¯s...more or less true,¡± Pryce sighed, though he sincerely hoped it wouldn¡¯t come to that. ¡°Wheihrn seemed polite, is there a reason why we can¡¯t get his help?¡±
¡°He has only been our neighbor for a few years, so we do not trust him much,¡± Devotion answered.
¡°He also killed our previous neighbor,¡± Fortitude added. ¡°We did not like him much either, but at least Wheihrn is smart enough to respect us.¡±
Her partner snorted dismissively. ¡°That is not being smart, that is being not stupid.¡±
Pryce rubbed his eyes. ¡°If you don¡¯t trust him, then let¡¯s just stick with the plan I mentioned.¡± He looked up at Devotion. ¡°A large flat mountain is a Plateau. First, we need to figure out where that is, then we can have a better idea of what we''re going to be doing.¡±
[JOURNAL ENTRY]
Callan is alive.
Current location: 16.82 degrees N, eastern coast.
Daybreak arrival location: 22.5 degrees north, eastern coast.
Fourth province solstice celebration location: ~24 degrees north, ~10 kilometers inland of the eastern coast. (Location estimated based on information provided by the dragons)
New plan:
Depart for 22.5 degrees north.
Devotion leaves for the solstice gathering, approx 230 km away. Should take ~6 hours to get there.
Celeste and Fathom patrol, covering 250 kilometers every day.
Fortitude stays on deck with me.
We leave once we finish packing Fortitude¡¯s valuables. Trip expected to take ~16 hours.
Pryce sat in silence as Fathom flew him back to the Horizon. The five of them had refined their plan until there were no further objections to be heard. It was still far from satisfactory, but no plan could be given such a distinction under these circumstances, and these concerns paled in comparison to what truly plagued him.
¡°Are you¡okay?¡± Fathom asked as he flew, the words laced with an undertone of worry. ¡°It is not your fault that you did not know.¡±
¡°I know,¡± Pryce sighed. ¡°But-¡±
¡°But you don¡¯t feel that way,¡± the dragon huffed.
¡°...yeah.¡±
Fathom flapped his wings, giving Pryce a few moments to think as he clung onto the makeshift harness. When he spoke, it was into the relative silence of the wind.
"There was no reason for us to have left any earlier, and there was no reason for me to believe she had survived¡but that won''t make it any easier if it turns out she died while I was sitting around doing nothing." His grip around the chains tightened as he spoke, and he found it impossible to keep a note of bitterness from creeping into his tone.
Fathom only rumbled in reply, and spoke no further on the matter. It seemed uncharacteristic to Pryce, but he supposed there wasn''t much else to say on the matter.
Soon they landed upon the deck, and Pryce went to work bringing the ship to the beach.
¡°You can see, right?¡± Fathom asked, not for the first time.
It had taken longer than he¡¯d expected to load Fortitude¡¯s most valuable things, as this description included a solid majority of her belongings. She also insisted on having them in sight, so the cratefuls of non-human artifacts had to be fastened upon the deck of the ship, further prolonging their time of departure.
Night had fallen by the time they were done, but the crescent moon provided enough light for him to use a compass. Outside, he could see that the ocean was calm enough to reflect the starry sky above.
¡°Yes, I can see. Go and get some rest, you¡¯ll need to fly far tomorrow,¡± he said as he left the wheelhouse. The ship was on course, and it would be fine without him for a few minutes.
¡°I¡¯m not sure if I can sleep well with the ground moving under me,¡± Fathom grumbled, tossing a baleful glare at the deck. The other dragons also had not bothered to sleep yet, especially Fortitude, who was still amazed by the speed of the great vessel.
¡°What is she doing?¡± Pryce asked. The crippled dragon stood at the nose of the ship, one wing extended while the other quivered like a half-open umbrella in the wind. She stood motionless as the air rushed beneath her wings ¨C she was emulating the sensation of flight, Pryce abruptly realized. The Horizon did travel at speeds comparable to that of a gliding dragon, after all.
Devotion eyed her throughout this process, and she slowly stood up to do the same. For a time, they were silent, and then Fortitude murmured something to Devotion which Pryce could not hear.
?This feels strange¡" Fortitude murmured. "Different from standing on a cliff and facing a gust of wind.?
?Yes, it does feel somewhat like gliding,? her partner said, answering the question she did not ask. ?Though it is strange to have your feet on the ground. Does it feel at all familiar??
?I am¡not sure,? Fortitude murmured uncertainly. ?It feels like an echoing dream, where some things might be different, but you never know what.? She finished her musings with a sigh, signaling the end of their conversation.
Still and unmoving, they stood like statues outlined by the light of the moon.
Seeing as their conversation was over, Fathom leaned over to quietly translate their dialogue for Pryce.
¡°...interesting. Humans have those too, though we call them ¡®recurring dreams¡¯,¡± Pryce said. It was an interesting idea, to refer to them as echoes.
¡°I have had a few of those, sometimes they are weird, sometimes they are¡not good.¡± Fathom¡¯s spines flattened at the recollection, but then his eyes lit up and he asked, ¡°Do humans know what dreams are? Some dragons think we are seeing the past or future, and some even think we are seeing the lives of other dragons, but that doesn¡¯t explain why some dreams are ridiculous.¡±
Pryce shrugged. ¡°No one knows,¡± he said, but Fathom looked so disappointed that he felt compelled to add, ¡°We think it is the brain resting and organizing memories. Think of it like bringing home a pile of treasures, except it¡¯s your brain moving memories around. Dreams don''t make sense, because they don''t need to make sense.¡±
¡°That is¡a bit boring,¡± Fathom hummed. ¡°But it sort of makes sense. Do you have any recurring dreams? You do not have to answer, if they are not pleasant,¡± he added, seeming to that such a question might have been insensitive.
Pryce felt a faint smile tug at his lips. ¡°I¡¯ve never told anyone about them before. I think¡it will be good if I talk about it.¡± Fathom looked a little puzzled at this, so he elaborated. ¡°Just because humans talk a lot doesn¡¯t mean we share everything. Some things are personal. Some things you don¡¯t want to tell other people, especially when they¡depend on you.¡±
¡°That is easy to understand; no one wants to be seen as weak,¡± Fathom muttered, quietly for once. His gaze drifted over to his daughter, who sat with the others at the far end of the ship. ¡°Sometimes I dream about the time I broke my wing. I see the storm forming, but it is not strong yet, so I go hunting anyway. The storm gets worse, the winds get stronger, and I fall. I wake up before I hit the ground, but then I remember that the dream already happened.¡± He paused, hesitating. ¡°There are¡others dreams, about Abyss and Celeste, but I have not had them in a long time,¡± Fathom shrugged, though the gesture didn''t quite have the dismissive effect it usually had.
¡°That¡sounds similar to human dreams,¡± Pryce said, unsure of what else to say. ¡°Do you get the first kind anymore?¡±
¡°No,¡± Fathom said, shaking his head ¨C that gesture still looked a bit awkward on a dragon, no matter how many times he saw it. ¡°Now I just dream about you saying something very bizarre, and then proving it,¡± he said a little plaintively.
Pryce wasn''t sure if that was meant to be humorous or not, but he probably would have laughed if not for the serious nature of their discussion. As it was, he could only find it within himself to give a faint smile before taking a moment to gather his thoughts.
¡°You know what happened with John ¨C my friend Wright¡¯s son. I worked as hard as I could, did everything I could, but he still died.¡±
Fathom opened his mouth, closed it again, then simply nodded and waited for Pryce to continue.
¡°In my dream, the same things happen. People get sick. I work as hard as I can. A friend tells me John is sick. I work harder. John dies, but I have to keep working, because thousands of people are dying." He paused for a moment to collect himself. "Sometimes the dream is different. Sometimes I remember how to make the medicine, but it never works, at least not until it''s too late.¡±
Fathom blinked. In the dark his pupils were wide and glossy like an ocean at night. It was surprising how small a change could so drastically alter his expression. ¡°You were not too late for me.¡±
¡°...No, I wasn¡¯t,¡± Pryce agreed.
A few moments of silence passed, where Fathom looked away before asking, ¡°What did you mean when you said, ¡°It will be good if I talk about it?¡±¡±
¡°Sometimes it feels nice to talk to someone about something that you could never tell anyone else. Don¡¯t you feel better?¡±
¡°Not really,¡± Fathom said, narrowing his eyes a little. ¡°Do you feel better?¡±
¡°Yeah, I feel better¡a bit lighter, if that makes sense?"
"I''m not sure if I understand," Fathom rumbled doubtfully. "But I''m glad if it makes you feel better." The dragon sounded a little awkward, though Pryce wasn''t entirely sure why.
Pryce furrowed his brow as he recalled how Fathom immediately understood why he had never talked to anyone about his nightmares. The dragon must have felt the same, yet he''d shared his nightmares regardless.
Pryce felt a stab of guilt at this realization ¨C it wasn''t even the first time his friend had acted out of concern for him today. What was he doing, being so ungracious?
Pryce looked up into the dragon''s eyes ¨C the deepest dark surrounded by thin red rings. ¡°You''re a good friend, Fathom. Thank you for making me feel better. I¡¯m also sorry about earlier ¨C I never said thank you, for calming me down and making me think things through.¡±
¡°You don¡¯t need to thank me for that,¡± Fathom huffed, though the dismissive action was belied by the self-satisfied way in which he held his head. ¡°You were being stupid, and I just made you stop.¡±
¡°Well¡thank you anyway. I needed to hear that.¡±
Pryce felt like there was something else that had to be said, awkward though it may be. Still, it was the truth, and that made it all the easier to say.
¡°I¡¯m glad ¨C very glad that you were the first dragon I met.¡±
¡°Oh,¡± Fathom said, sounding a little surprised at this sudden compliment. ¡°I am¡also very glad that you were the first human I met,¡± he said, nodding with a gracious air. Then he blinked, and his eyelids shot open as he remembered why Pryce had been alone in the first place. ¡°W-wait, I didn¡¯t mean-¡±
¡°Pfft.¡± Pryce couldn''t help himself ¨C the haughtily offended look on Fathom''s face only elevated his snickering to full blown laughter. "Sorry, sorry," he coughed. "I''ve just never seen you trip up like that, and the look on your face-" laughter bubbled up despite his efforts, and he doubted the rest of his sentence was intelligible.
¡°Are you done?¡± Fathom growled, nearly a full minute later.
¡°Yes,¡± Pryce coughed, and cleared his throat for good measure. ¡°Sorry.¡±
"Hmph," Fathom snorted. ¡°At least you had fun. I¡¯m going to sleep now.¡± He turned away and laid himself down, muttering something that probably wasn¡¯t a goodnight.
"Were you laughing? It sounds weird," Celeste said, having been drawn over by his outburst. "Did something funny happen?"
"No, nothing important," Pryce said, wiping the smile off his face. "Go to sleep, we have lots to do tomorrow."
Chapter 56: Through the Grapevine
?A¡human?? Nanzo asked, bewildered.
?Yes!? Kharno exclaimed between pants. The amber-yellow dragon had talked without pause for a rather impressive length of time. ?Exciting, is it not??
Nanzo rumbled, an unenthusiastic noise. ?Somewhat. You used many words to say very little.?
?Well there is not much to say,? Kharno chuffed in offense. ?No one knows anything else about the human ¨C except Qnaoro,? she grumbled, a heavy note of jealousy in her voice.
?Yes¡I never thought he would actually find anything,? Nanzo said, sitting back as he processed this deluge of information. ¡°How many dragons do you think will be in the fourth province, come solstice??
?At least five hundred,? Kharno said with absolute certainty. ?Or you can call me a lizard.?
Nanzo cocked his head, his eyes slitted in amusement. ?Really??
?...maybe closer to four hundred,? she amended, eliciting an amused huff from the younger dragon.
?I see. Thank you for the information. I will tell Lakath, of course.?
?Yes, of course,? Kharno nodded. ?Speaking of, anything¡interesting happen yet?? she asked, her head tilted in a half-hinting way.
?My circumstances have not changed,? Nanzo said, ignoring the pointed look he received in return.
?Hmph...you are no fun,? Kharno huffed, turning away with a rather offended air. ?I need to go now, do be sure to let me know if-?
?Yes, yes, I will,? Nanzo said, waving her off. He closed his eyes as she flapped away, not looking forward to the task that laid before him. Lakath did not live far from him, only a short trek away. She was more than close enough to have heard Kharno¡¯s roar announcing his arrival, and he was unsurprised to find her waiting at her usual place.
Lakath tilted her head at Nanzo¡¯s silence, sunlight reflecting off her vibrant orange scales. Just as always, her eyes were directed straight at him, milky and unseeing though they were. ?Well? What are you dragging your tail for? What did Kharno have to say??
Nanzo clenched his teeth, and relayed to her how Qnaoro had found a strange creature from another land ¨C one capable of speech.
Lakath had, of course, pushed herself up at the first word, her frame trembling with excitement. ?The fourth province, you say? Let us go at once!?
?You cannot just-? Nanzo cut himself off, and sighed. ?You cannot just rush off to the fourth province ¨C how are you even going to reach the top of the Plateau??
?Fly, of course. What use is practice if I never get to use it??
?It is dangerous!? Nanzo hissed, exasperated by her obstinate nature. ?Kharno thinks there will be at least five hundred dragons there. What are you going to do if a fight breaks out? There will be too much noise for you to hear anything!?
Lakath froze, her expression hardening even as hurt flickered in her milky eyes.
?I-¡± Nanzo let out an explosive sigh, uncertain of how to proceed. ?No one knows what will happen in this meeting. Can you imagine the chaos if a fight breaks out between five-hundred dragons??
Lakath¡¯s face remained a stone mask, but her head lowered almost imperceptibly a few heartbeats later. ?Do you have a plan??
?I have two, though I am sure you will like one more than the other,? Nanzo said, sitting himself down. ?First plan: You stay here-?
?I am not doing that.?
?-while I go to the fourth province, then I come back and tell you what happened,? Nanzo said, ignoring her dismissal of the idea. ?The second plan is that we go together, but not directly to the Plateau; instead we stay at a distance, such that we will not be caught in the core of the conflict.?
Lakath drew her head back, clearly disliking the idea. ?What is the point of wandering around the Plateau if I never get to meet this human??
?The point,? Nanzo said, ?is that we can talk to the human once we know things have settled down.?
?Mmm¡? Lakath squinted as she pondered this proposal. The movement of her eyelids were for the sake of communication rather than any personal need, and while it was helpful in that regard Nanzo couldn¡¯t help but find it unnerving at times, even after all the decades that they had known each other. ?What if Qnaoro disappears again?? She questioned.
?That is not possible,? Nanzo answered confidently. ?He cannot leave unnoticed with so many others around.?
?...fine,? Lakath sighed, ?we will go with your plan.?
Nanzo blinked, surprised at her acceptance. ?...just like that??
?What? I can be reasonable too.?
The yellow dragon wisely decided not to comment on that. Instead he asked, ?...when do you want to leave??
Lakath parted her jaws in a coy smile. ?I do need you to guide me, so unless you are very tired then I ¡®see¡¯ no reason why we cannot leave now.?*
*Note that it is grammatically correct Draconic to hear/see/smell/sense something intangible. Lakath is going out of her way to make a pun here.
?...I am ready to leave at any time,? Nanzo said, stoutly ignoring Lakth¡¯s attempt to get under his scales. That didn¡¯t stop her from chuffing in amusement, however; somehow she always found his reaction amusing, no matter how hard he tried to hide it. ?We have never practiced flying so far before, so please let me know if you need a break.?
Lakath paused ¨C she had already turned to climb up the mountain. Turning back around, she stared straight into his eyes. ?...I will. Thank you.?
The yellow dragon glanced to the side, shame burning in his core. ?Think nothing of it.?
?Hide,? Ungal ordered, the command accompanied by a harsh gesture to the deepest depths of his cave. ?Good. Now stay.? The red dragon knew his orders would be obeyed, and quickly turned to dive into the nearby river. There he did his best to scrub himself clean, and only barely made it to the peak of his mountain before his visitor arrived.
?Greetings, Ungal-?, have you heard the news?? Eosmn asked, without waiting for Ungal to return his greeting.
?Greetings, Eosmn-?,? Ungal nodded, taken aback by the green dragon¡¯s odd enthusiasm. ?What news??
?Oh, so you have not!? Eosmn said, sitting down in relief. ?I last talked to Esham, and she already heard about it, so I am glad I did not fly here for nothing.? From this ramble he jumped directly into conveying his short but ludicrous message.
?What? How did-? Ungal asked, but he was cut off by Eosmn.
?He found her on a small island, no one knows how, Qnaoro has learnt to speak her language, she stands on two legs and only has two arms, and only has fur on her head.? Eosmn paused, then added, ?Oh, and no one knows where they are. I believe that is everything.?
Ungal only stared slack jawed.
?I have told this story five times already, everyone has the same questions,? Eosmn said by way of answer. ?I assume you will be at the Plateau on the day of the solstice? Most others have said they will be going.?
?...yes, of course,? the red dragon said, nodding faintly. ?Thank you for telling me this, I know not many live in this area.?
?It is no issue at all,? Eosmn said, though not without a very pointed pause. Ungal chuffed, and left to retrieve a rather nice piece of quartz that made Eosmn¡¯s eyes light up.
?Appreciated,? Eosmn nodded, but he abruptly froze before sniffing the crystal. ?...this smells like-?
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
?I found it in a raptor nest.? Ungal said, lying easily.
?Hmm. Never found something like this in their nests before. Maybe I should hunt them down more often.?
?Perhaps only some of them do it,? the red dragon suggested, privately thankful to his past self for coming up with that lie years ago.
Eosmn left soon afterwards, no doubt hoping to receive payment to others who had not yet heard the jaw-dropping news. Ungal absently made his way back home, relieved that Eosmn was not interested in a prolonged conversation.
?You can come out now,¡± Ungal said, and he sighed as three raptors darted out of his cave, trilling happily at him. ?What am I going to do with you three??
?Karoth!? Yantha exclaimed. ?New land!?
Karoth lifted his head, blinking drowsily at his twin brother. ?What are you talking about? Slow down, you are speaking even more nonsense than normal.?
?It is not nonsense!? Yantha protested, snapping out his wings so quickly that Karoth was surprised he didn¡¯t knock himself over. ?Qnaoro found a creature that can speak, and she says she is from another land!?
Karoth blinked. ?What? Qnaoro the wanderer??
?Yes, she calls herself a human-? Yantha said, then proceeded to regurgitate the information he had received from Mohnwa, who had just dropped by to leave a message.
?Interesting¡? Karoth rumbled. ?And no one knows where this ¡®human¡¯ came from.?
Yantha tossed his head. ?No, but if we can learn that-?
?-Then we can find other lands ourselves,? Karoth finished. ?But what will happen after that? If say, five-hundred dragons left, could the remaining five hundred all have an egg? What about those who leave?? He paused, stumbling across a point of concern. ?You said this human was small??
?Yes, very small and weak. I cannot see how they could be a threat.?
?Good,? Karoth nodded. ?If they were, then we would be at a disadvantage. They can come to us, but we cannot go to them.?
?Unless they could help us travel across the ocean,? Yantha suggested, ?but that seems unlikely.?
?Yes, I suppose it does.? Karoth frowned, and tapped a talon against the ground in thought. ?What do you think we should do, brother??
Yantha snorted dismissively. ?I do not see how such weak creatures could be significant. It is likely that this human floated across the ocean by luck, in which case she is nothing more than a curiosity.?
?You are not wrong,? Karoth admitted, ?but I have a feeling that we are missing something. Why has no one ever found one of her kind before? Surely at least one of them would have succeeded if that were the case.?
?Well, I think we should get going,? Yantha said, glancing up at the sky. ?It is pointless to sit around thinking so much when we know so little.?
?On that, we are agreed,? Karoth said, his joints cracking and popping as he stretched. ?What would you do, if it turns out they can help us cross the ocean??
Yantha cocked his head, a thoughtful expression on his face. ?I suppose I am curious to see what the far-land looks like, and it would be fun to hunt some new prey for a change, but it would be boring if there were no one to fight. What about you??
?Well¡? Karoth hummed, ?I am not sure yet, I think I will wait until I see this human for myself first. It would be disappointing if they were killed before I had a chance to see them.?
?Mother, important news!? Icahna gasped, fumbling her landing in her haste.
Vosae snorted before roughly flicking her daughter between the eyes. ?How many times have I told you to stop being so clumsy?? She hissed.
Icahna flinched at the blow before ducking her head apologetically. ?I am sorry, but-?
?If you were sorry then you would have spent more time training instead of wandering about. Your graceless actions reflect poorly upon our clan.?
?But-?
?You are getting too old to be neglecting your responsibilities, I-?
?Qnaoro found a creature from another land!? Icahna blurted out, an action that she immediately regretted ¨C at least until her mother¡¯s eyes widened in surprise, something that she could not remember seeing.
?...Explain.?
Icahna quickly relayed what she had learned from Oughan.
?I see¡? Vosae rumbled, a hard look in her eyes. ?I have never heard of anything like this. I have heard no indication of any ties between Qnaoro and Xhorhw before, and I cannot sense what either of them have to gain by telling such a ridiculous lie.? She drummed her talons as she pondered outloud. ?Tell me, who told Oughan this information??
Icahna nodded, and dutifully recited the path that the news took to reach them.
?Yes, and what do you think about this piece of information??
?It¡sounds plausible?? Icahna said uncertainly. ?The path that the information took is relatively direct, and has no clear pattern. It also implicates several powerful individuals, which a liar would prefer to avoid.?
?Good,? her mother nodded. ?So you have been listening after all.?
Icahna¡¯s chest swelled at the praise, but then she tilted her head to ask,?Who will be sent to investigate? Elder sister??
?No, I will go myself,? Vosae said, surprising her daughter. ?There is too much we do not know. She has a language, which means she speaks to others of her own kind, so why is she alone? Could she be an exile? If she is as small as you say she is, then it is not impossible for her to have crossed the ocean on a large piece of wood. Perhaps she is simply the first of her kind to succeed.? She shook her head. ?Whatever the case, it is clearly difficult for them to cross the ocean, else we would have found more of them by now.?
?That¡makes sense,? Icahna agreed, though she was aware it sounded more like a question than an answer.
?You said that most others believed the¡human made something to float over the ocean with, and that she had a strange, unknown material over her hide, yes??
?That is what Oughan said, why do you ask??
?In that case, her species must be able to create things that we cannot recognize. What else can they create?? Vosae sighed. ?Things would be relatively simple if this human were merely a lucky exile of some sort, but if not¡?
Icahna tilted her head. ?You think we will find more of them in the future??
?Yes,? Vosae nodded. ?It is for that reason that I must go myself.?
?Wait, I do not understand,¡± Icahna admitted. ?Why not send elder sister??
?The likelihood is small, but trade deals are the lifeblood of our clan; if another party arrives, they could disrupt everything.? Vosae paused for a moment. ?You are almost an adult now, so I am going to tell you something new. You know all it takes to make alcohol is to let fruit sit in a container. Why do you think we are the only clan that makes it??
Icahna blinked, taken aback by her mother¡¯s change in behavior. ?Is it¡because we make better alcohol than anyone else??
?Not wrong,? Vosae said, tilting her head in acknowledgement, ?but on occasion a dragon figures out how to do it by accident, though they are no real threat to us without the ability to refine it, that process was-?
?-first invented by our ancestor Hsomoa one-thousand-five-hundred-and-twenty-six years ago,? Icahna finished. She might not listen as much as her mother would have liked, but if she heard that line any more she¡¯d start hearing it in her dreams. ?I already knew that,? she added plaintively.
?The second reason,? Vosae said, ignoring her complaint, ?is that we eliminate our competitors before they become a threat. There are several ways to accomplish this: sometimes the implicit threat in asking them is enough to make them stop, but if that does not work then you could simply invite them into our clan. As a last resort, you may have to simply attack them until they promise to stop making alcohol.?
?...oh,? Icahna said. That explained certain behaviors she¡¯d seen over the years.?Okay, but what does this have to do with the human??
?I am saying it is possible that they could make alcohol like we can.?
?What?? Icahna exclaimed, eyes wide. ?Mother, we know almost nothing about them, what led you to that conclusion??
?It-? Vosae abruptly winced as a low hiss slid past her teeth.
?Are you hurting again? Should I gather more numbweed?? Icahna asked, curiosity temporarily suppressed by concern. Vosae rarely allowed herself to be affected by pain, though Icahna could tell her mother¡¯s ailment was worsening over the years despite her best efforts to hide it.
?No, I do not need it,? Vosae growled, her eyelids sliding open as the pain subsided to a manageable level,?It is not that I believe this outcome to be likely ¨C remember what I taught you. Always prepare for the worst, and it is always easier to prevent than it is to repair. I do not know what these beings are capable of, but I must be prudent.?
?I see¡? Icahna said, slow and hesitant. ?So we must treat them as a threat??
?No, we must be prepared to treat them as a threat,? Vosae corrected, her expression hardening. ?I hope they are not, but I will do what I must to ensure the survival of our clan.?
Helsha hummed as he hovered over the last row of sproutlings, his upper body supported by the palms of his wings such that his arms were free to prune the young trees. They would need the extra care, now that he was planning on leaving them unattended for some time.
A distant roar sounded in the distance, ruining his freshly-acquired good mood. Why did visitors have to keep bothering him?
It didn¡¯t take long for the culprit to land nearby, the young dragon a terribly common shade of green ¨C nothing at all like his own verdant hide.
?Greetings, Helsha-?-?
?This had better be important,? Helsha snarled, cutting off the youngling¡¯s introduction. The young fool¡¯s reckless landing had caused his precious saplings to sway alarmingly.
?Qnaoro has found a creature from another land!?
Helsha blinked. ?And this is important because¡??
The young dragon¡¯s jaw dropped, apparently baffled that anyone would be unsurprised by this mundane piece of news. ?If that is all you have to say, then get out of my territory before I-?
?The creature can talk, and Qnaoro has learned how to speak with her!?
?...why did you not start with that?!? Helsha nearly roared.
The young dragon ducked his head, then proceeded to apologize while simultaneously regurgitating all the information that he knew.
?...Is that all?? Helsha asked when he was done.
?Yes, everything, I swear!?
?How long ago did Xhorhw tell you this? Stand up and tell me your name, for Sun¡¯s sake.?
?Last night, elder Helsha! My name is Ranoha!? The young dragon shot back.
Helsha eyelids widened almost imperceptibly. ?You flew through the night??
?Yes, elder!?
?...your assistance is appreciated, Ranoha,? Helsha begrudgingly admitted, and gave the young dragon a suitable reward for bringing the news so quickly ¨C though not before extracting a promise to remain silent about said reward. He didn¡¯t want a horde of fools trampling over his plants, after all.
Helsha watched as the Ranoha flew off with a pleasantly formed chunk of ore in hand, then directed his gaze down at the saplings he had been pruning. A few of the thinner branches had been damaged by his visitor¡¯s reckless landing. He sighed.
?Qnaoro, what have you gotten yourself into??
Chapter 57, Day 96: Rusted Flame, Tarnished Soul
¡°This still itches,¡± Celeste grumbled, flicking her spines as she tried to shake off the earpiece that Pryce had attached to her. At least it wasn¡¯t falling off this time, unlike prior attempts.
A crystal-set receiver was a simple and fairly compact device, so it wasn¡¯t hard to attach one onto a dragon¡¯s head, even if it did look rather strange. The problem was that he couldn¡¯t figure out how to hold the earpiece near their webbed spines without irritating them.
In the end he simply looped the earpiece under a strap, held close but not touching sensitive spines.
¡°How¡¯s that?¡± Pryce asked.
Celeste tossed her head around, testing the setup. ¡°Weird, but not bad. With this I can hear the ship, right?¡±
¡°That¡¯s right." Pryce made another adjustment. "How''s that?"
¡°Better. Do I fly now?¡±
¡°Yes, give me the signal if you can hear me through the earpiece.¡± Pryce had made no modifications to the receivers themselves, but field tests were done for a reason.
Half an hour later and Celeste was a faintly dragon-shaped dot in the sky. At this distance she might have passed for a strange bird if he hadn¡¯t known she was a dragon.
¡°That''s as high as she can go,¡± Fathom said, having seen her give the signal.
¡°Testing, testing, 1, 2, 3. Flap if you can hear me,¡± Pryce said into the microphone, and the dot in the sky winked.
¡°It works,¡± Fathom said after several more repetitions. ¡°What are you doing?¡± he asked, seeing Pryce pull out the sextant.
¡°I know her real length, so I can calculate her altitude if I just measure her length in degrees,¡± Pryce said, frowning. ¡°Rather, I could if the ship wasn¡¯t moving around so much. I can¡¯t get a good reading.¡±
Fathom hummed for a moment and cocked his head thoughtfully. ¡°Is the shirt you are wearing very valuable?¡±
¡°What?¡± Pryce asked, bemused by the non-sequitur. He glanced down at his well-worn short-sleeved shirt. ¡°Well, no, it¡¯s a rather unremarkable shirt. Why do you-¡±
Pryce barely failed to suppress a yelp as Fathom bit the back of his collar and hoisted him a full meter off the ground.
¡°Now you can use the sextant,¡± Fathom said, his voice was somewhat muffled by the fact that his jaws were almost completely closed, though his words remained completely discernible.
?Strange hatching you have there,? Devotion joked, chuffing in amusement along with her partner.
Pryce bit back a protest as he realized what Fathom was getting at; the dragon''s head (and by extension Pryce¡¯s body) bobbed in counter to the minute movements of the ship, perfectly stabilizing him. ¡°You could have warned me,¡± he grumbled, bringing up sextant.
¡°That wouldn''t have been as funny,¡± Fathom said unapologetically. ¡°......you almost done? I can''t see what you''re doing like this.¡±
(Art by Rackiera)
¡°Give me a minute, my shirt¡¯s pulling on my arms¡¡0.17 degrees, or about 5 kilometers up,¡± he read outloud, ignoring how his legs awkwardly dangled beneath him.
¡°Did you do that math in your head?¡± Fathom asked as he let Pryce down, sounding somewhat impressed.
¡°Nope, I did it earlier,¡± Pryce said, holding the calculations scrawled upon a notebook. ¡°If she were 4 kilometers up then Celeste would take up 0.215 degrees of the sky. 5 kilometers means 0.172 degrees, and 6 kilometers means 0.143 degrees. You can come down now, Celeste,¡± he said, speaking into the microphone.
The dragon in the sky immediately entered a dive, her wings flaring open with less than a kilometer left between her and the ocean. She had timed her descent well, and when she reached the ship she''d bled off enough momentum to land on the deck ¨C though not before pulling off a graceful loop-de-loop.
"Show off," Devotion grumbled.
¡°It is very strange to be hearing voices when no one is around,¡± Celeste noted, ignoring the older dragon. ¡°I could understand you very well,¡± she said once Pryce pressed her about the quality of the sound. ¡°I noticed that the sound was stronger when I looked at your ship."
¡°Yes, the antenna on your head is pointing forwards, so it can hear better when you''re looking at the source of the radio waves. You''ll be able to find the rescue ship just by looking around and flying in the direction where the signal is the strongest.¡±
"Hmm¡" Celeste hummed. "That makes sense. Antennas are like eyes."
"Exactly," Pryce nodded. He looked at the chronometer: ten o¡¯clock. ¡°Half an hour left until we arrive. Or at least until we''re almost there."
There was no way for him to find his latitude without the stars, so Pryce couldn¡¯t rush that no matter how badly he wanted to do so. There was still a good amount of time before the solstice, but each day they saved was another day they could be looking for Callan.
"Let''s go over the plan one more time. Fly as far and as high as you can. Listen to the radio, and don''t forget to inspect landmarks for messages-"
¡°You forgot to teach her how to read English,¡± Fathom commented.
"...Yeah," Pryce admitted. "I assumed the message would''ve been written on something they could carry back, but that might not be possible."
Fathom shrugged. ¡°You just need to teach her the alphabet, then she can just memorize the message,¡± he said, with not unjustified confidence in his daughter''s memory.
They spent a quarter of an hour covering the alphabet, and another quarter covering the spelling of words related to direction and distance. The dragons expressed discontentment at how each letter could have multiple sounds, but that didn¡¯t stop them from just memorizing them anyway.
¡°Alright, we should be pretty close to our destination,¡± Pryce said, killing the engines. ¡°One of you will go north while the other goes south, and when you come back I¡¯ll move the ship to its final location at night.¡±
¡°The closest landmark is north of us; it is a pile of rocks called the Sleeping Dragon," Fathom said, partially extending a wing to sense the air currents. "I can read the best, so I''ll go north, where the message is most likely to be." He paused for a moment, then added to his daughter: "Don¡¯t forget to check the Egg; we passed it less than an hour ago.¡±
"Yes, yes," Celeste said absently. "The Twisted Tree is worth visiting too, since it is so close to the Egg." She cocked her head, seeming to realize something. "How do you think Callan would have left a message? What should I be looking for?"
"She''d probably try leaving a message written on leaves," Pryce guessed. "It shouldn''t be very hidden, since dragons can''t read it anyways."
"Do not forget to avoid other dragons," Devotion cautioned. "Especially you, Celeste. They might see your receiver, and it will be hard for you to catch them if they are male."
¡°That¡makes sense," Celeste admitted, albeit reluctantly. "But what do I do if they notice my receiver? I can''t stop them from following me back here."
"You could lead them away," Devotion suggested. "We will know you have met another if you have not returned by sunset."
"What if I hid the receiver?" Celeste asked. It took over a minute of her fumbling with the velcro strap, but she was eventually able to hide the device within her hand.
"Can you put it back on by yourself?" Pryce asked doubtfully.
Another few minutes proved that she could, though the earpiece was completely misplaced. Tests showed that she could still hear transmitted audio, albeit not quite as well.
"Try not to do that unless you have to," Pryce said. "And don''t forget, Trespasser''s probably seen you, so he''ll still recognize you even if you hide the receiver."
¡°Mmm¡Annoying problem,¡± Celeste grumbled.
¡°Maybe it¡¯s best to just¡tell him everything?¡± Pryce proposed; a suggestion that was met with incredulous stares. ¡°I know it sounds stupid, but if we can get him to join us then he won''t be a threat. Am I wrong?¡±
"You can''t just invite him," Fathom snorted. "A dragon who sneaks around like him can''t be trusted."
¡°...Pryce is not wrong,¡± Devotion said, surprising them both. ¡°It is strange to invite an enemy, but it does make some sense.¡± Pryce was pleased by the unexpected support, at least until she added, ?This also makes it easier to deal with the trespasser in the event that we fail to convince him with words.?
"Let''s hope we don''t have to do that," Pryce said upon receiving the concerning translation from Fathom. The dragon had seemed uncertain about how to translate "deal with", so he doubted that proposal boded well for the green dragon''s health.
¡°It feels wrong to fight him when there are four of us," Celeste grumbled.
"It does," Fathom agreed. "I would rather fight him properly."
Devotion snorted and tossed her head. ¡°He will not do that unless he is very stupid. Do not rely upon an enemy to make mistakes ¨C it never ends well,¡± she chided austerely.
"Fighting and talking will both be easier if we invite him," Fortitude placatingly interrupted. "But it seems unlikely that any of you will find him, so I think it is better to plan for other things."
"Fair enough," Pryce conceded. "Fathom will go north and Celeste will go south, do you plan on doing anything today, Devotion?¡±
"I wish to go to the Plateau," Devotion answered. "But it is too late today. I would not be able to return by sunset, so I will go tomorrow. Today I will try to find dragons who will want to be allies with you."
"I''ve been waiting for you to bring that up," Pryce said, excited at the prospect of meeting other dragons. "Have you decided on who we can trust?"
"Yes, some, but I do not know how many I will find," Devotion warned. "Some of them maybe not home."
"We have a few dragons we want to find,¡± Fortitude explained. ¡°The first two are Kharno and Helsha. The first was our neighbor a long time ago, and she has good relationships with many other dragons. She will be helpful in convincing everyone to trust humans."
"And she is also not bad at fighting," Devotion added ¨C a lukewarm compliment, but Pryce doubted she was the type to give any sort of praise easily.
"She sounds like a great choice, but why didn''t we try finding her earlier if you know her so well?"
Devotion snorted with something between amusement and disdain. "She likes talking too much. Keeping you a secret would be painful for her."
Ah. A blabbermouth. "Fair enough. What about the second dragon?"
"In a way, Helsha is almost the opposite of Kharno," Fortitude began. "Both are old and strong, but he likes to live alone. We want him to join us because he is the only dragon who knows how to make¡medicine? That can make our patterns stronger."
Well, that was interesting. Other than the usage of herbs, he hadn''t heard much mention of dragons making medicine before.
"Medicine is the right word," Pryce confirmed, catching onto their intentions. They wanted to gather allies with the power to sway others, while also being strong enough to deter any opposition they would face.
Now that he thought about it, strength was probably a requirement to become influential in the first place. A secret wouldn''t be valuable if it could be extracted with force, after all. It was a good strategy, and he could see how the knowledge to make such "medicine" would earn Helsha significant standing among creatures as vain as dragons. Still, one particular detail worried him more than the others.
"Is it safe to try and invite him if he doesn''t like dealing with other dragons?"
Devotion tilted her head, acknowledging his concern. "Helsha hurts challengers very much, but he is very honorable and he almost never begins a fight," she said, before candidly stating: "You are very weak, so he will not hurt you."
"He hates fighting people weaker than him more than anyone else," Celeste elaborated. "He hates it so much that he refuses to hunt, because he thinks prey is too weak."
Pryce stared, uncertain if he had heard her correctly. "He doesn''t hunt? What does he eat then?" He asked incredulously.
"Plants, fruits, nuts, and mushrooms," Fathom answered succinctly. "At least that is what he says. I don''t think anyone can survive without eating any meat," he said, rumbling skeptically.
A dragon who was a vegetarian wasn''t something Pryce had ever expected, but he seemed like an interesting character ¨C if a little paradoxical in his behavior.
"There are others we would like to talk to," Fortitude said, seeming to mistake his silence for skepticism. "I can tell you about them later when the others are gone."
"That is everything we wanted to talk about," Devotion said, fanning out her wings. "I will be back by sunset," was all she said before she leapt into the sky, forcing Pryce to brace himself lest he be knocked over by the powerful gusts of wind.
When she was gone he straightened himself and beckoned Fathom over. "Let''s get you outfitted with the receiver, then the two of you can head on out."
Celeste shifted impatiently as Pryce worked, and the moment he was done she blurted, "It seems like you''re the last to leave," and abruptly launched herself into the sky.
"We were not having a competition!" Fathom cried, immediately following suit despite his protest.
"Looks like we''re alone," Pryce said to Fortitude. "Are you going to tell me about the other dragons now?"
"Maybe? Talking is a lot of work," Fortitude said, tilting her head coyly. "I might feel like telling you about them, if you show me more human things."
¡°Why have you not shown me this before?!¡± Fortitude demanded even as her eyes remained locked upon the mirror.
¡°I had important things to think about, like enemy dragons,¡± Pryce said drily.
A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
¡°I do not see how that is more important than this.¡± She spoke with her mouth open, inspecting the rows of teeth she had never clearly seen before. Come to think of it, how were all her teeth in pristine condition? They couldn¡¯t possibly be as old as she was, so that meant¡
¡°Wait a minute, do dragon teeth grow back?¡±
Fortitude paused her inspection. ¡°What?¡± She asked, glancing at his reflection.
¡°If you lose a tooth, does it grow back?¡±
She stared blankly at him. ¡°...do your teeth not do that?¡±
¡°No. Human children replace their teeth once, but after that they¡¯re gone forever.¡±
¡°Then how do you eat?¡± Fortitude demanded incredulously, her head snapping around to stare at him instead of his reflection. ¡°Do you have any missing teeth?¡±
¡°We make fake teeth out of metals like gold, and no, I¡¯m lucky; I haven¡¯t lost any yet,¡± he said, opening his mouth for her to see. Few people his age could say that they had a full set of teeth, and it was something he was forever thankful for.
¡°Human bodies are stupid,¡± Fortitude huffed, turning her attention back to the mirror. ¡°Do you get sick often?¡±
¡°Depends on what you mean by ¡®often¡¯. Most people will get a little sick a few times a year.¡±
¡°Yes,¡± Fortitude said, sounding faintly uncertain. ¡°Your friend says you can cure infections.¡±
¡°If it¡¯s the right type of infection, yes.¡±
Fortitude cocked her head, a skeptical glint in her eyes. ¡°Can you prove it?¡±
¡°I cured Fathom. Isn¡¯t that enough?¡±
¡°That could have been luck.¡±
¡°True, true,¡± Pryce said, sitting down to rest his chin on his fist. ¡°I guess I can¡¯t really prove it to you, not without a bunch of sick people lying around.¡±
The elder dragon lowered her head and fixed him with a contemplative eye. ¡°Strange. You believe you can do this, but you are not insulted that I think you cannot?¡±
¡°Not really. Dragons think infection is caused by¡dead things, right?¡±
Slowly, Fortitude nodded. ¡°It makes sense for dead things make living things sick. It is¡boring to think that sickness is caused by many small creatures.¡±
¡°Maybe,¡± Pryce shrugged. ¡°But this does remind me, I wanted to ask if you could tell me everything you know about a certain dragon.¡±
¡°You already said you wanted to know about the dragons we want to invite.¡±
¡°Not those,¡± Pryce said, shaking his head. ¡°A different one. Fathom told you about the dragon I call Pathogen, right? I wanted to ask about him.¡±
¡°Oh, him. Why? You are not thinking of inviting him, are you?¡± She asked with surprising harshness.
¡°No, of course not,¡± Pryce said, shaking his head emphatically. ¡°Fathom doesn¡¯t seem to know why Pathogen wants him dead, so I wanted to see if you could help me figure that out.¡±
¡°I do not see why that is important,¡± Fortitude chuffed. ¡°The one you call Pathogen is not just a coward, he is¡¡± she paused, apparently trying to find a word. ¡°Do you have a word to describe a person who makes bad things happen?¡±
Pryce frowned, uncertain of how to answer that vague and troubling description. ¡°You mean¡a person who does bad things? That would make them a bad person, or evil.¡±
¡°No, I mean a person who makes bad things happen.¡±
¡°The closest word would be¡cursed,¡± Pryce said slowly.
¡°He is weak, a coward, and a cursed individual who makes others sick,¡± Fortitude said, tallying off each sin with a raised talon. ¡°I suppose if you are right then he is only unclean, but why do you want to learn about someone like that?¡±
¡°It¡¯s just¡¡± Pryce sighed, running his fingers through his hair. ¡°When I first came to this island, I could have met anyone. What if I became friends with Pathogen? What if I trusted him without learning about Fathom? What if I let him kill Fathom, or worse, helped him?¡±
¡°Hrnn¡¡± Fortitude rumbled. ¡°I think I understand a little, but what would you do if you decide Pathogen does not deserve to die? Even if you could convince your friend, you could not convince Pathogen.¡±
¡°I¡¯ve¡thought about that. I know there¡¯s nothing I can do. Maybe I¡¯m just being stupid, but I still want to know.¡± Pryce looked up to see the old dragon watching him, an unreadable expression on her face.
¡°Very well,¡± Fortitude said, clicking a talon against the deck with an air of decision, ¡°I will tell you about Pathogen; I am curious to see what decision you will make.¡± The elder sat down upon her haunches, tilting her head as she organized her thoughts. ¡°Pathogen was born 74 years ago. His mother and father were strong ¨C almost as strong as Devotion ¨C but he was weak and disappointing. When he was young, he challenged many strong dragons, and almost always lost. 16 years ago he challenged your friend ¨C you know what happened next, yes?¡±
¡°I do,¡± Pryce nodded. ¡°Fathom lost, his mate stopped their fight, and she died from infection.¡±
¡°Yes. After that, Pathogen has almost only challenged Fathom for the last 16 years. In that time he has not won a single fight.¡± She snorted disdainfully. ¡°I am surprised your friend has not killed him earlier.¡±
¡°But Fathom said Pathogen wouldn¡¯t agree to a death fight,¡± Pryce said, confused. ¡°I thought dragons who kill outside of a death fight get killed?¡±
¡°Only if the one they kill is¡one who acts right,¡± the elder corrected. ¡°Pathogen is cursed because he has killed someone by making them sick. That is almost as bad as killing them himself ¨C he does not deserve this respect.¡±
Pryce frowned as the pieces began to fall into place. ¡°So¡if Fathom wanted to, he could have killed him and not be punished for it?¡±
¡°No, of course not,¡± Fortitude said, shifting a wing dismissively. ¡°Are you not listening? No one would care if someone like him died.¡±
Ighnahr gently descended upon the familiar outcropping. Old, once-fond memories bubbled to the surface of his mind as he laid eyes upon the elder before him.
A dragon¡¯s scales lightened with age, but the wings were free of any such protection, and thus their coloration remained unaffected by the passage of time.
It was for this reason that a dual-tone coloration could only be found in dragons who had lived for 250 years or more - the older the dragon, the more striking the contrast between body and wing. As for this dragon¡
Scales, glossy and white with age covered his deep purple hide. Scars from battles centuries past littered his body, the old wounds light and pale even against his frosted scales. The old dragon fixed Ighnahr with a hard look, his grey eyes sharp and critical.
?It has been a long time, cursed brat,? Anzath rumbled, the note of disdain in his voice not at all hidden.
?Father,? Ighnahr said, bowing his head. ?I come bearing news.?
?If it is about the human, then you are too late. I heard the news from Kharno-? yesterday,? Anzath said, his tone cold and clearly unwelcoming.
Such a response was precisely what Ighnahr had expected, and yet it stung no less when heard. ?I know something Kharno-? does not,? he said, something that elicited a faint glimmer of interest in his father¡¯s eyes.
?...Go on,? he rumbled, though his eyes lost none of their skepticism.
?Sharnha noticed Huroumh flying with Ghorrah-? and his daughter,? Ighnahr began. His father''s eyes narrowed at the mention of the unsavory green dragon, but otherwise made no objections. ?He followed them, and found a great shell of iron four times longer than the entire length of his body and just as wide ¨C it must be what this human used to cross the ocean.?
His father snorted dismissively. ?And you believed him? A dragon like Sharnha??
?He had proof, of course,? Ighnahr bristled. ?He broke off a piece of metal from this great shell, and it was like nothing I had ever seen. No dragon has ever created anything so smooth and reflective, it was like a metal with the texture of a calm lake.?
Anzath chuffed, clearly doubtful of such a claim. ?And I assume Sharnha has very conveniently kept this piece of metal??
?Yes, he refused to part with it,? Ighnahr growled. ?He led me back to where he found the great metal shell, but by the time we arrived it was gone, and so was everything of value in the territory of Huroumh.?
The two dragons stood in silence, and Anzath stared at Ighnahr with that piercing gaze that always made him feel as if he were completely transparent before his father.
?I¡see¡? he rumbled, slowly and deliberately. ?Assuming this is true, then the four of them ¨C including Jooral ¨C are¡allied with these beings, at least to some extent.? He paused, and his eyes slitted further. ?When Qnaoro was discovered with the human, perhaps he and that one human were only separated from their group? No, no,? he said, lowering his head in thought. ?Neither Qnaoro nor Huroumh had any business dealing with Ghorrah and Jooral ¨C unless the latter was visiting his daughter? That means among the two of them, the first to have discovered that human is likely to be that cloudchaser* Qnaoro, but that does not explain why he was found by Xhorhw so far away from the territory of Huroumh, unless ¨C?
?It is possible that there are more than one of these creatures, and Qnaoro found one just as Huroumh did.?
?Possible, but not very likely,? his father said, dismissing the idea. ?I believe Qnaoro and that human may have been quietly gathering allies when he was caught. That would explain why Huroumh is with them, as his daughter likely invited him to join their group. I must go and see Ghorrah-?
?That will not be possible,? Ighnahr said. ?The two elders have left their territory; I have seen that for myself-?
?What?!? Anzath cried, almost making Ighnahr jump in surprise. ?Both of them? Are you certain??
?Y-Yes,? Ighnahr stammered, surprised at his father¡¯s vehemence. ?Their valuables have mostly been removed, though there are some that were left behind. I did not take any, of course,? he added. Even Sharnha had refused to disturb their belongings, and if an opportunistic dragon like him decided a risk was too great, then it definitely wasn¡¯t worth taking.
?You should have started with that!? Anzath spat, his wings mantling in agitation. ?Those two have occupied their territory for the last two hundred years. What under the sun could have caused them to leave?? he mumbled before abruptly rounding upon his son. ?What else do you know?? he demanded.
?Nothing. They disappeared, and we were unable to determine where they went,? Ighnahr said, his response stiff and measured. Sharnha had been baffled beyond belief that something so large could disappear and leave behind nothing but an oddly disturbed patch of sand upon the beach.
?I see,? Anzath huffed, deflating in disappointment. ?This complicates things. I must talk to your mother about this.?
?Yes, of course,? Ighnahr said, bowing his head before turning to leave. ?Farewell, father.?
?...Wait,¡± Anzath said, just as Ighnahr flared out his wings. ?Let us talk a little while longer. Why did you come to see me??
Ighnahr paused, not having expected to be stopped. ?...I thought you would want to know the news I brought.?
?Please,? Anzath snorted. ?We both know that is not the whole truth. There is something else you wanted to tell me, is there not??
Slowly, Ighnahr folded his wings, but could not quite bring himself to face his father. Even his throat refused to work, as if it were constricted by coils of shame.
Seeing as he wasn''t getting a response, Anzath continued. ?If this is about Huroumh, I have some advice: give up.?
Ighnahr froze, the red dragon¡¯s jaw falling agape. ?Give up¡what, exactly??
?You know what,? Anzath said, flicking his nictitating membranes dismissively. ?I know I once taught you to never give up, but something needs to be said. You have lived for 76 years now, and what have you really accomplished? Forget eggs, you cannot even win against a has-been with a broken wing!? His father waved a splayed foreclaw in Ighnahr¡¯s direction, and he could not help but suddenly feel conscious of his sorry state. ?And look at you: your hide is barely even red and your scales are a mess. How have you managed to let yourself fall into such an embarrassing state??
?...I have been busy training,? Ighnahr defended weakly.
?Exactly!? Anzath cried, pouncing upon the point. ?You train and train, but anyone can see that you will never win, so why do you fight??
Perhaps it was because of recent events, or perhaps it was simply the gust that felled the tree*, but at that moment, Ighnahr snapped.
?How can you understand, when all you have done is win?!? He roared, decades of frustration and anger forced into every word. ?Do you know what it was like, for every person I met to know what a disappointment I am? Do you know what it was like, for your life to be ruined by the first true victory you experienced in over a decade? You cannot, can you?!? Ighnahr ranted, his chest heaving with each sentence.
?... My understanding has no bearing upon your choices,? Anzath said, as if Ighnahr had not roared in his face. ?Answer my question: why do you fight??
The rust-red dragon did not immediately respond, as he had no answer to give. For several moments he only panted as the wind whistled throughout the mountainside.
?I want to win,? he said, answering the question as simply as he could.
Anzath only stared, and gave no indication of whether or not he approved of this answer. ?And how will you do this? You have never won before.?
?The last time we fought, Huroumh broke his wing. I do not know where he is, but I am certain he will be at the Plateau. There I will challenge him to a death-fight that he will surely accept. With hundreds of witnesses, no one will be able to doubt my strength.? Ighnahr raised a foreclaw, his eyes settling on the tips of his talons. ?A cursed person like me will never earn the respect of others¡I have known that for a long time. Even still, I need to do this. No matter what else happens, I must win against the one who I could never defeat.?
?I see,? Anzath said, and faster than Ighnahr could react, struck him in the face.
Ighnahr hissed in pain from the blow, though it caused no real injury. ?Hssk¡! What are you¡??
?Pathetic,¡± Anzath snorted. ?To think a son of mine would come to say farewell before challenging a twice-weakened foe.? His father paused for a moment, then slid his nictitating membranes over his eyes. ?Fight me,? he demanded.
?What?? Ighnahr stammered, his mind still recovering from the blow. ?But my curse-?
?Will not matter so long as we do not draw blood. Besides, I am stronger than Huroumh. If your curse could not kill him, then it cannot kill me,? his father chuffed. ?Do not worry. I will not leave you with any injuries that will not heal in the six days before the solstice.?
Ighnahr hesitated. He didn''t see the point of this sparring match, but the look in his father''s eyes told him that he wasn''t going to take no for an answer.
He nodded.
?Is this the best you can do?? Anzath roared as Ighnahr reeled away. ?What happened to all that training you did? How can you hope to beat anyone like that??
Ighnahr tossed his head and shook off the pain. In a dozen strenuous flaps he managed to regain his lost altitude to face his father once again.
They had exchanged blows three times already, and Ighnahr had come off the worse every single time. Neither of them used their talons or teeth, but a hit was still a hit, and he knew it was going to take a few days to heal the bruises he already accumulated.
Once more his father lunged at him, feinting again ¨C but this time Ighnahr was ready, and managed to counter with a blow of his own while blocking the one he received.
?Good!? Anzath barked, even as he was knocked away. ?Again! Fight like defeat means death!?
They completed another exchange, with this result the same as the first three.
?I see why you never win,? Anzath father roared over the winds. ?You flinch at the slightest possibility of pain! In a battle, such hesitation leads to defeat! I know I taught you this before, so why do this now? What are you so afraid of??
Ighnahr snarled, anger flaring up within his core. The next exchange he took a risk, twisting his body as he overextended himself, and managed to land a solid hit upon his father.
But it wasn''t without cost ¨C Anzath grabbed onto his foreclaws and twisted about. In the blink of an eye he had somehow flipped Ighnahr around and dug his talons into his neck.
?You lose,? Anzath said, and Ighnahr could only grunt an agreement before they had to separate, lest they fall too far from the sky.
?It seems all those defeats have changed you; you were not so skittish the last time we sparred,? Anzath stated as they returned to the ground. ?When you landed a hit upon me, what did you do differently? How did you feel??
Ighnahr frowned, confused by his father''s odd line of questioning. ?I was¡angry,? he admitted.
?The last time you fought Huroumh, you said you almost won. Why??
?I was more aggressive than before,? Ighnahr answered confidently. He had pondered that question himself for many days as he recovered, and was confident that was the answer.
?Yes, you were aggressive because you were angry, were you not? Anger makes you reckless and unpredictable, but it also makes you sloppy ¨C easy to counter,? he said, pointedly bringing up the talons that had just been pressed against his son''s throat. He turned to fix his son with a hard expression and said, ?I was not always so strong. Either overcome your fear or control your anger. If you can do that, you might be able to win.?
?What are you¡??
?Listen well, brat: There are many paths to victory, but mastery of the self is what separates the strong from weak ¨C something you have clearly yet to learn.? His father paused, as if unsure of what to say next. ?Ighnahr. If you truly wish for victory, then I will not stop you, but ask yourself this; what are you so afraid of??
Ighnahr could only watch as Anzath flew away, his father''s last question echoing within his mind. He looked down upon his raised foreclaw, clenched tightly so that it could not be seen to shake.
?You are too soft,? Igansa scolded as Anzath landed upon the mountainside. ?Why did you even bother with that one??
?Pathetic though he may be, he still seeks victory,? Anzath explained as he folded his wings upon his back. ?I cannot deny his tenacity, and failure or not, he is still our son.?
?Unfortunately,? Igansa snorted as she tossed her head. ?If you wanted to truly help him then you should not have gone easy on him ¨C coddling never helped anyone spread their wings.?
Anzath rumbled as he tilted his head, his spines flattening. ?It is surprising, but¡I barely held back at all,? he admitted.
?What? You have to be joking!? Igansa exclaimed.
?He still has a long way to go before he can beat me, of course,? Anzath said, scoffing pridefully. ¡°But he was much stronger than I expected. He must have grown throughout the years while fighting Huroumh, even if he does not realize it.?
Igansa frowned as her partner explained himself. ?If you say so¡how did he react when you told him that??
?I did not. If he cannot find his resolve without my approval then he should not be fighting death-fights in the first place,? Anzath sighed, and looked up at the vanishing dot that was his son. ?I have done what I can. Whether he wins or loses now is entirely up to him.?
?Well, at least you are right about something,? Igansa said, teasing. ¡°I was worried you lost your edge for a moment.?
?Yes, very funny,? Anzath snorted. ?By the way, he did not come to ask for help like you thought.?
?No?? Igansa asked, blinking in surprise.
?No, instead he brought us some very interesting information ¨C I might have to tell Vosae-? about this¡?
Chapter 58, Day 96: Resolve
Fathom flared out his wings, pulling out of an evasive roll before regaining his lost altitude. His breathing was a little strained, as this was the last of many practice maneuvers he''d done that morning, so he decided to rest for a few minutes of passive flight until he recovered his stamina.
Instinct and experience made long distance flight a trivial task, so he had decided early that morning to run through some old practice maneuvers while patrolling; it had been a long time since he had two properly working wings after all, and he needed to be at his best for the Solstice. The past fifteen days or so had helped him remember how to properly fly, but the process was not easy as he would have hoped; his body still occasionally insisted on flying as if one of his wing fingers were still broken.
He tossed his head, shaking off the frustration. That was what the practice was for.
On occasion Fathom would scan the skies around him, but he had yet to encounter another dragon that morning. It was far from unusual given that he had only been flying for around two hours, though he idly wondered if the circumstances surrounding Callan would make it more or less likely for him to encounter other dragons in the following days.
He was pulled from his thoughts as his first destination appeared on the horizon; the Slumbering Dragon. The name was really quite self-explanatory; the landmark was simply a large pile of rocks that had long ago been carved into the shape of an oversized dragon. The finer details had long since been eroded over the ensuing centuries, but its shape was still distinctly artificial.
Anticipation welled up in Fathom¡¯s chest as he fell into a steady descent. He had only ever interacted with Qnaoro several times, but he was quite certain that the dragon would have helped Callan hide the message in plain sight; it was simply the most sensible thing to do.
¡Unless Qnaoro was an idiot, which seemed increasingly likely as each crevice he inspected yielded no results. The rocks seemed virtually unchanged compared to the last time he had seen them three decades ago.
Fathom renewed his search from the tail-end of the stone dragon, picking up rocks and looking underneath them for anything of note. His inspection was so thorough that twenty beats had passed by the time he made it to the head.
In the end, it seemed there was nothing to be found here at all.
Grunting in frustration, Fathom turned his attention to the surrounding beach. Rocks and boulders of various sizes dotted the landscape, but it didn¡¯t take long for him to detect the scent of blood ¨C not human or dragon, but of prey. Following the scent led him to a slab of rock, stained in blood old enough to have turned black.
Fathom smiled as he carefully flipped over the rock, revealing a cavity in which several palm leaves
[1] sat, each covered in familiar symbols.
Fathom picked up the leaves with great care and refocused his eyes to read the small text. His progress was stifled by an occasionally unfamiliar word ¨C even sounding them out didn''t help him recognise it ¨C and he frowned as he gleaned the most important parts of the message.
It seemed Pryce was right after all.
Fortitude abruptly looked up, alerting Pryce to Fathom''s returning figure in the sky.
¡°You¡¯re back early, did you find anything?¡± she asked as he landed upon the deck.
Pryce wanted to keep his expectations low, but he couldn''t see any reason why Fathom might have returned so early unless he had found something important.
¡°It¡¯s easier if Pryce reads it first,¡± Fathom said, unfurling his foreclaws to reveal leaves ¨C dried leaves with words written in blood.
Mission Day 84 85 86 87 88 90
Surprise, I''m alive!
I suppose I should begin with how I survived. Writing on dried leaves using animal blood is a pain in the ass, so I¡¯ll try and keep things short.
Sometime around day 14 I heard a commotion in the hallways. Edward was stumbling about in what seemed like a manic episode, and he bolted for the deck. I tried to stop him, but a huge wave dragged us both into the ocean.
We would have died there if not for the whale who sucked us into her mouth. I know it sounds ludicrous, but she carried us for a long time before spitting us out onto the beach of a small island.
She stuck around for a little while along with her calf, but seemed to lose interest after a few hours.
I didn¡¯t get a great look at her, but she had a lopsided X-shaped scar over her head, was about 30 m long and almost entirely black on the top and white on the bottom ¨C an unknown species, at least to my knowledge.
Pryce stared at these sentences, baffled by the ridiculous sequence of events. The ocean was incredibly vast, so perhaps it shouldn''t have been surprising to discover intelligent marine life. There were stories of cetaceans helping humans in crisis, but verified or not he''d never heard of such altruistic behavior from a sea creature, and certainly not from a whale.
He continued reading, and noticed that the following words were written carefully, as if the writer were holding themselves steady.
The two of us were still sick, even if we were saved from drowning.
Ed died a few days later. I got better. Don''t know why.
The island was pretty small, so there weren''t any predators around that could threaten me. At least until a gods-damned dragon showed up 46 days after my arrival ¨C and then he started talking to me! Not in English, obviously, but he was clearly speaking a language.
But you clearly knew that, since you needed the help of a dragon to find this message in the first place. Honestly it''s ridiculous how smart they are. Aurum ¨C the name I''ve given my new buddy ¨C can string together sensible sentences after only two weeks! Wish I could say the same for myself, but their language is more or less unpronounceable to me, so I haven''t really made much headway.
I¡¯ve no idea when a rescue crew will arrive, but Aurum has been asking around to find out where the hell everyone else is ¨C you know, you.
Gods, I hope someone¡¯s alive to read this.
-Jane Callan
P.S. I¡¯ll update the date every time I check up on this. If I¡¯m late, then I¡¯m (hopefully) busy doing something more important.
The following message was written upon leaves that seemed to be a little more recent:
P.P.S
Day 92,
Shit.
We were discovered by another dragon. Aurum had to promise to bring me to some solstice event just to get him to leave us alone.
It was only a matter of time, really, but that doesn''t make it any less of a problem.
Aurum and I will be reaching out to dragons with potential to be our allies. We''ll be gathering as many as we can before the summer solstice event in ten days.
At this point, I doubt anyone will find this message. Aurum wishes to introduce me to a dragon who''s apparently something of a vegetarian herbalist, and I agree that it would be more beneficial to gather allies than to waste any more time here.
The next line was struck through, and the message continued below the illegible text.
To whoever finds this, do me a favor and send a few messages for me.
Dad ¨C thanks for everything that you taught me. I don''t think I would''ve survived until now if you hadn''t taught me all that you did.
Gordon ¨C regardless of what happened, the choice to go on this expedition was mine and mine alone. What happened wasn''t your fault.
Don''t blame yourselves for any of this; I knew what I was signing myself up for. Kind of. Wasn''t really expecting to meet a dragon of all things, but hey, at least I¡¯m (probably) the first person to ever speak to one!
I love you both,
Jane
Pryce stared at the sign-off, his lips pressed into a thin line. It was no surprise that Callan had assumed that everyone had either died or gone home by now.
Maybe it was his sense of responsibility, or maybe he was just being nosy, but wrong as it felt, Pryce found it impossible to stop himself from reading the personal message. It wasn''t just Callan. Everyone aboard the ship had someone waiting for them back home, they just never had the chance to leave behind any parting words like she had ¨C at least, not that he knew of.
Pryce furrowed his brow and made a mental note to check the crew''s quarters for any last messages. There were a few individuals he was quite sure would be on the rescue ship, and they deserved as much closure as they could get.
¡°I am waiting," Fortitude said, interrupting his thoughts. ¡°What did she write? Is it good or bad?¡±
¡°It¡¯s what I expected. We missed Callan by three days, but she''s alive and gathering allies with Aurum ¨C that''s the name she''s given Qnaoro, so I can start calling him that.¡±
¡°Finally,¡± Fathom rumbled in relief. ¡°What does that name mean?¡±
"It''s an old word for gold, probably because he''s gold colored.¡± It wasn''t a bad name. Perhaps he should consider naming dragons after metals and minerals if he couldn''t find suitable words.
Fathom cocked his head, bemused by this conclusion. "There are no dragons who are gold colored. Qnaoro is supposed to be yellow, not gold."
"It must have to do with how dragons can see more colors. Gold looks mostly yellow to humans," Pryce explained. He faintly remembered that the precious metal reflected IR light very well, but he would have to refer to some reference material to be certain.
Fortitude made an impatient rumbling noise, sounding vaguely like someone clearing their throat. "This is not important, did you learn how she survived?¡±
¡°Apparently a whale saved her,¡± Pryce said, not quite believing the words coming out of his mouth. ¡°Those are the big round animals who live in the ocean,¡± he added when Fortitude looked blank.
¡°I thought I could read that part,¡± Fathom said, ¡°but I wasn''t sure if I understood the sentence properly.¡±
Fortitude hummed at this piece of intelligence, her eyes narrowed in thought. ¡°Strange. I thought whales were stupid. Sometimes I find them on the beach," Fortitude said when asked to elaborate. ¡°I have helped a few whales back into the ocean, but they die if I am too late, so I thought they could not be very smart if they kept dying like that.¡±
¡°You¡helped them?¡± Pryce asked, mildly surprised by the altruistic behavior.
¡°I felt pity for them,¡± she simply said, and shrugged her wings.
¡°Maybe it is easier than it looks to get stuck on land?¡± Fathom suggested. ¡°Sometimes a dragon crashes into the ground, but that''s because something else caused it.¡±
"Most humans think whales swim onto land to escape predators like the leviathans, and the ones we find are just the ones that get stuck.¡±
¡°Leviathans?¡± Fortitude asked blankly.
"Very large sea animals, sometimes over 30 meters long. They have long bodies like snakes, and have thick pointy heads,¡± Pryce said, aware that he was describing the bane of mankind¡¯s seafaring efforts in a rather dull manner.
Their name was an old one, given to the creatures when their true identity was yet veiled in mystery. They had a tendency to hunt in small groups, and people once believed their coiling bodies to be limbs of a far larger creature, resulting in the interpretation of a ¡®leviathan¡¯ of the seas.
The tsunami of 897 AE had left one notable specimen stranded deep inland, which had gone far to dispel much of the mystery shrouding the creature. Some biologists had wished to change the common name of these creatures, though their efforts were largely unsuccessful due to people stoutly refusing to use anything but the name they knew.
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¡°Sea-snakes," Fathom translated when Fortitude looked a little uncertain.
"Oh, those," Fortitude said, recognition finally dawning. "I have never seen one before, but Devotion once said she saw leviathans eating a whale in the ocean."
"That''s interesting, but we can talk about it later. Let¡¯s focus on this for now,¡± Pryce said, gesturing to the leaves. ¡°This message was left 6 days ago, and Callan says that Aurum wants to meet Helsha. They''ve probably already left him, but if Devotion can find Helsha-¡±
¡°We can ask where they went next," Fathom finished, though his spines were a little flattened. ¡°Why did Callan not write a list of dragons they were going to talk to?¡±
¡°I do not think Qna- Aurum has many allies, so he might not have a list,¡± Fortitude said, rumbling in thought. "Anyone would know that Helsha-? would be a strong ally, but I have never heard of them working together before. Why would he go to him first?¡± she made a frustrated noise before tossing her head in frustration. ¡°Grhh. Not important, we just need to find Helsha-?.¡±
"Can you read the messages out to us?" Fathom asked. "I want to make sure I didn''t misunderstand anything."
¡°Yes, do that!¡± Fortitude exclaimed as she peered at the writing ¨C a pointless task, different that she could barely read any English, yet alone English that was upside down.
¡°No, I think I mentioned everything important,¡± Pryce said, scanning the text again. "But I''ll read it out anyway, except for the last part, that''s personal stuff."
"Personal how?" Fathom asked, head cocked.
"It''s a message for her father and husband ¨C her partner," Pryce elaborated.
Fortitude blinked in surprise. "She has a partner? Was she on the ship?"
"Was she on the ship?" Pryce asked in confusion. "Oh, you mean her husband. Callan''s partner is a male ¨C his name is Gordon, and he wasn''t one of the humans on the Horizon."
"Do human partners not do things together?" Fathom asked. The two dragons appeared surprised by this, which perhaps wasn''t very surprising considering what Pryce had told them about humans.
"Gordon was supposed to come with us, but he and a few others were injured in an accident," Pryce clarified.
¡°Makes sense,¡± Fortitude nodded.
¡°Read now, please," Fathom said, nudging him in reminder. "I have a few words I want to ask about, like what does ¡®pain in the a-s-s¡¯ mean?¡±
Reading out the message required several more awkward explanations largely supported by "that''s just a thing people say", but he was somehow able to finish this task without too much mortification on his part.
He had never expected to feel irritation at Callan''s crass choice of words again. In a way, it was oddly nostalgic.
¡°Human expressions are strange,¡± Fortitude chuffed, then turned to Pryce. ¡°Are you going to ask him now?¡±
¡°Might as well, I suppose,¡± Pryce sighed, ¡°but it''s a bit awkward to have this conversation in front of you.¡±
¡°Ask me what?¡± Fathom asked, looking between the two. ¡°...Oh, this must be about Pathogen,¡± he surmised with a hint of exasperation.
¡°...yeah,¡± Pryce admitted. ¡°How did you know?¡±
¡°It''s the only thing you''re this reluctant to talk about,¡± Fathom shrugged. ¡°Let''s go to the other side of the ship; I don''t want to talk about this in front of you either,¡± he added to Fortitude, who scoffed before burying herself under her one good wing.
¡°I have a lot of things to talk about,¡± Pryce said once they both sat themselves down at the stern of the ship. ¡°But there¡¯s one thing I want to ask you first: you know about Pathogen¡¯s past, don¡¯t you?¡±
¡°I do,¡± Fathom admitted.
¡°So why didn¡¯t you tell me?¡±
Fathom rumbled uncertainly, his head drooping in a rather guilty manner. ¡°It is true that I don¡¯t know why he hated me so much, but there were also some things I just¡wasn¡¯t ready to talk about,¡± he admitted.
¡°Nothing wrong with that,¡± Pryce said. He¡¯d assumed as much when Fathom had been so cagey about the subject. ¡°Are you ready to talk about it now?¡±
¡°Yes, but there is one more thing I wanted to discuss first,¡± Fathom said, shifting uncomfortably. ¡°That time you left to get more penicillin¡I said I was mad at you because you didn''t think you were going to survive getting more medicine, which was true, but¡¡± he trailed off, and wasn¡¯t quite able to meet Pryce¡¯s gaze. ¡°It is shameful for a dragon to need the help of another, so it was frustrating to be saved by someone as small and weak as you.¡±
Pryce frowned as he recalled those events in his mind. It certainly made sense, though the thought had never crossed his mind.
¡°But there was another reason I acted the way I did,¡± Fathom said, quietly by his standards. ¡°You cured me. That proved that infections were caused by bacteria, which meant that Ighnahr wasn''t cursed, and if he wasn''t cursed then¡¡± he drifted off, a torn look in his eyes. ¡°It made me wonder whose fault everything was.¡±
Pryce opened his mouth, Fathom continued before he had a chance to speak.
¡°It took Abyss two months to die. She couldn''t even recognize me or Celeste, by the end.¡± Fathom bowed his head, staring down at his talons. ¡°I¡thought about killing her just to end her suffering, but I always hoped she might get better.¡±
Pryce didn¡¯t know what to say to that.
¡°I thought about it a lot while I was healing,¡± Fathom continued, apparently not having expected an answer. ¡°It was very difficult to accept that Pathogen might not be responsible for everything, at least not in the way I blamed him for. I just¡saw him as the source of all the problems in my life. I didn''t think or care about why he did what he did ¨C I just thought he was a terrible person, someone who simply deserved to die.¡±
¡°But¡even still, you didn¡¯t kill him, even when you could have,¡± Pryce said. ¡°Fortitude said that no one would have cared if you killed him. If you thought he deserved to die, then why didn¡¯t you kill him? Was it because you didn¡¯t think it was honorable?¡±
¡°Yes,¡± Fathom said, though he seemed oddly hesitant. ¡°That and¡he killed Abyss outside of a death fight. I didn¡¯t want to be like him. I wanted to kill him without betraying myself, and now, I finally have a plan to do that.¡±
¡°Oh?¡± Pryce asked.
¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± Fathom said, apparently noticing the concern on his face, ¡°I think this is a good compromise: Pathogen thinks I am weakened, if he tries to challenge me to a death fight because of that, then I will kill him. If he does not, then I will let him go and live his miserable life.¡±
¡°That¡sounds alright to me,¡± Pryce said uncertainly. ¡°What if he fights you normally?¡±
¡°Then I¡¯ll give him a few scars, but I won¡¯t kill him.¡±
¡°...This is actually what I wanted to ask you to do,¡± Pryce admitted after a moment¡¯s thought.
¡°What?¡± Fathom asked, surprised. ¡°What about the ¡°I should understand him¡± thing you wanted me to do?¡±
¡°I¡¯ve thought it over while I talked to Fortitude, and reading Callan¡¯s message just made me more certain: I realized that it doesn¡¯t really matter what his motivations are, or even if he¡¯s guilty. I just want you to do whatever it takes to survive, even if it means killing him.¡±
Fathom blinked, tilting his head a little as he regarded Pryce with a curious expression. ¡°This is different from what you believed before. What changed your mind?¡±
Pryce sat up straight and looked Fathom in the eyes. ¡°It¡¯s not what I want to do, but I have to be realistic. Maybe this isn¡¯t the most ethical plan, but if there¡¯s something I can do to help keep you alive, I¡¯ll do it.¡±
¡°You said something is ethical when it is the ¡°right thing to do¡±, right?¡± Fathom asked. ¡°Why would this not be ethical?¡±
¡°Killing someone is rarely the right thing to do,¡± Pryce huffed, rolling his eyes.
Fathom shrugged. ¡°I don¡¯t think any dragon would say that it¡¯s wrong to protect what you care about, so I don¡¯t see why you should feel any guilt. As for Pathogen, I don¡¯t see how his actions can be justified by being a loser. Losing is normal ¨C even I have lost a few fights, but I don''t act like him.¡±
¡°Maybe, but it sounds like he rarely ever won fights, while you rarely lost them,¡± Pryce pointed out. ¡°I''m just saying...I know what it''s like, to never be good enough. Wouldn¡¯t you be a different person if all you did was lose?¡±
¡°But I don¡¯t,¡± Fathom said, eyes narrowed in confusion. ¡°Why would I imagine myself being someone like him?¡±
¡°Imagining yourself in another¡¯s position can help you understand them,¡± Pryce said, though Fathom didn¡¯t seem very sold on the idea.
¡°Maybe that¡¯s a human thing,¡± Fathom grumbled. ¡°I guess I would be different, but I wouldn¡¯t be me to begin with if I was weak enough to lose so many times.¡±
¡°If everyone else were stronger but you stayed the same, wouldn''t you lose while still being you?¡±
¡°...I suppose,¡± Fathom grumbled. ¡°But it still doesn''t excuse Pathogen.¡± He cocked his head, apparently stumbling across an interesting thought. ¡°Have you tried to imagine yourself in my position?¡±
¡°A few times. Dragons think differently from humans, but you¡¯re also pretty reasonable, so it¡¯s not hard to imagine what you would do.¡±
¡°Hmm¡I wonder what you would be like as a dragon,¡± Fathom mused. ¡°I think you would be very strong.¡±
¡°Didn¡¯t you just call me small and weak a minute ago?¡± Pryce asked, unsure of how to take the odd compliment.
¡°I was referring to your body, obviously,¡± Fathom snorted. ¡°It¡¯s not my fault that your language doesn¡¯t have different words for strength of body and strength of mind ¨C or is the right word soul?¡±
Pryce blinked. ¡°...you think my mind is strong?¡±
¡°Of course. Your body is weak, you overthink, and you¡¯re often afraid of things, but you don''t let anything stop you from doing what you need to do, even if your own desires say otherwise. That is why I respect you, because you did something I could not.¡±
¡°Oh.¡± Pryce said. ¡°I didn¡¯t know that.¡±
¡°Hmph,¡± Fathom chuffed. ¡°Your eyes really are terrible. Why would I be friends with someone I didn''t respect?¡±
¡°I guess you''re right,¡± Pryce chuckled without mirth. ¡°But what I¡¯m asking you to do¡isn¡¯t that the opposite of what you respect me for? I¡¯m asking you to stay alive for selfish reasons, not because this is what I believe is right.¡±
¡°Maybe a little bit,¡± Fathom admitted, ¡°but no one is perfect, and I think it is the right thing to do given our circumstances.¡±
¡°If you say so,¡± Pryce shrugged, though he did feel somewhat better about his decision. ¡°I will say that I appreciate your ability to admit your mistakes. Not many humans are as willing to do that as you are.¡±
¡°That¡¯s normal for dragons,¡± Fathom chuffed, though he was obviously pleased by the compliment. ¡°Pride rooted in lies is nothing but delusion.¡±
¡°Oh? Is that an expression?¡±
¡°It''s good, isn''t it?¡± Fathom cracked a smile. ¡°It took me a few tries to translate it well.¡±
Pryce smiled. ¡°Yes, it flows quite well. I think we should talk to Fortitude now, she seemed interested in how our conversation would go.¡±
¡°Yes, if that nosy dragon isn¡¯t already listening in on us,¡± Fathom chuffed.
¡°It is a good plan,¡± the nosy dragon sighed reluctantly.
Pryce raised an eyebrow. ¡°Do you have a suggestion to make?¡±
¡°No, I just wanted to see something more interesting,¡± Fortitude grumbled. ¡°I did not think being on this ship would be so boring.¡±
¡°Hmph,¡± Fathom chuffed. ¡°At least you don''t have to spend all day f¡¡±
Fortitude¡¯s eyes slitted dangerously.
¡°...facing many directions, looking for dragons who might want to talk to you,¡± Fathom said, recovering with impressive grace. He quickly announced that he was going hunting, and flew off before either of them could stop him.
¡°Hunt something for me too!¡± Fortitude called out after him before falling into a rumbling snicker. ¡°If there is one thing I will miss about having a broken wing, it is that I will no longer be able to joke about it.¡±
¡°That would be a great tragedy,¡± Pryce agreed, though her certainty was a little worrying. ¡°About your wing¡I will try my best, but you know there is a chance I might not be able to fix it, right?¡±
¡°Yes, yes, I remember what you said,¡± Fortitude said, waving a wing-thumb dismissively. ¡°I was just saying that if I were healed then I would miss making people uncomfortable ¨C it is never not funny.¡±
¡°Good,¡± Pryce nodded, though he noticed she hadn¡¯t directly answered his question. ¡°I just wanted to make sure you understood the risks. There''s still plenty of daylight left; if you''re bored then I could teach you how to read, if you''d like.¡±
¡°Yes, go get books! Ones with pictures!¡± Fortitude urged, the elder dragon nearly knocking Pryce over with an enthusiastic nudge towards the staircase, her injury forgotten at the prospect of having so much to learn.
¡°I could not find Kharno,¡± Devotion said as she landed, answering the question everyone wanted to ask. ¡°Her neighbors said that she has already gone to the Plateau.¡±
?Of course she left early,? Fortitude chuffed, apparently unsurprised by this news. ¡°Did you find Helsha-?? Or anyone else we talked about?¡± Fortitude said, apparently unsurprised.
Devotion shook her head. "No. He lives far north from here. If I went, I would be back late. Better to leave early and find him tomorrow," she said, something Pryce could heartily approve. Long conversations with new dragons were difficult enough in broad daylight, and he had no desire to have one at night.
¡°Did you find a message?¡± Devotion asked, turning to Fathom.
¡°Of course,¡± Fathom said, and quickly summarized his own findings.
¡°A whale? Interesting¡¡± Devotion rumbled. ?I have never heard of anyone observing intelligent behavior from them. I wonder if anyone has ever tried talking to them??
¡°I have never heard of anyone doing that,¡± Fathom said, ¡°but we could ask the other dragons when the time comes.¡±
¡°It would be nice if someone did, but I would be surprised if that were the case,¡± Pryce said. ¡°Whale songs are completely different from the noises that you can make.¡±
¡°We can think about it later,¡± Fortitude said, turning to her partner. ¡°You should go to sleep if you are going to get up early tomorrow.¡±
¡°I am not very tired. It was good to stretch my wings,¡± Devotion said, but laid down without protest. A few minutes later she was snoring, with Fortitude curled up beside her.
¡°I''ll tell Celeste everything when she gets back. You can go to sleep now, if you want,¡± Pryce said.
Fathom looked to the south before curling up to sleep. ¡°Alright, but wake me up if she does not return by sunset.¡±
¡°Of course.¡±
[JOURNAL ENTRY]
Day 96
Fathom ended up finding Callan''s message, much to his daughter''s disappointment.
The contents of said message were¡.mixed. With any luck, Devotion will find Helsha tomorrow, and he can point us in the right direction.
In the meantime, I just hope Callan and Aurum don''t come across any problematic individuals.
Among dragons, Pathogen and Trespasser are currently the biggest problems. The former may not be able to link Fathom to humans, but Trespasser certainly can. It might prove inconvenient if he tells others about the ship being in Fathom¡¯s territory, but they still have no way to track us.
I''ve moved Horizon as close to 22.5 degrees north as I could get it. Tomorrow I''ll have Fathom replace the message he found with another one, detailing our location to Callan in the event she goes to check up on her message.
P.S. I''ve updated the map with Devotion''s help ¨C the Plateau turned out to be a bit closer to our location than expected.
Chapter 59, Day 97: Draconic Congregation
Ghorrah yawned, shaking off her languor. It had taken nearly half a day¡¯s flight, but her destination had finally come into view.
Sheer cliffs surrounded all sides of the Plateau, each precipice towering over a hundred times her body length above the surrounding forests. Waterfalls poured from the apex of the vast summit, which itself was so great that every dragon alive could gather atop it with room to spare. Its appearance was oddly geometric in some places ¨C almost unnaturally so. Some dragons believed that their ancestors had painstakingly carved the Plateau out over the course of decades or perhaps centuries, but the landmark was too rough and unpolished for Ghorrah to believe in that story.
The Plateau was one of five places where dragons gathered year after year to test their mettle against each other in a tradition that had been maintained for as long as anyone could remember¡and yet the mere presence of a single human had utterly disrupted the time-honored tradition. Already Ghorrah could see several dragons flying about ¨C ones who had arrived days in advance in anticipation of what was to come, their presence proof of their curiosity and interest in these mysterious beings.
Ghorrah couldn¡¯t help but wonder just how much change she would be seeing in the next few years. She doubted their influence would be entirely positive even if they were all as soft as Pryce. Still, she had no choice but to support the humans as long as they had the slightest chance at fixing Jooral¡¯s wing.
Brushing aside her concerns, she soon landed near a group of dragons ¨C young whelps free from obligations that otherwise would have kept them from indulging in their curiosity. They were likely to be eager to learn more about the humans, but it was not worth trusting those one had never met before.
Hushed whispers ran through the group despite none of them having ever met her before. Ghorrah¡¯s distinctive grey hide and pale scales were easily recognizable, and their parents had surely warned them of her.
?Greetings elder. You must be Ghorrah-?,? the closest dragon, a smallish yellow male said, bowing along with the other two dragons. ?What can we do for you??
?Is Kharno here?? Ghorrah asked, deciding it wasn¡¯t worth asking for their names. Their compliance might have made things more convenient for her, but that didn¡¯t mean she found it worthy of respect.
A murmur ran through the group before they all tossed their heads in the negative. ?We do not know, but Xhorhw might,? a green female said, pointing to the north. ?He has been here for several days now, talking to many people about the ¡°human¡±.?
?Good,? Ghorrah nodded. She turned to her new destination, chuffing in amusement as the younglings visibly relaxed at her departure. At least Huroumh didn¡¯t cower before her, she had to give him credit for that.
Now back in the air she followed the directions she had been given, and was soon able to locate her quarry.
Xhorhw looked up at the sound of her arrival and immediately fell into a low stance, the young green dragon clearly uneasy at the sudden arrival of an elder like her.
?Greetings Ghorrah-?,? Xhorhw said, his voice only a little unsteady as he bowed his head in greeting.
?Xhorhw,? Ghorrah said flatly, faintly amused by his poorly masked alarm. ?Tell me what you know about the human.?
?Ah, well, I do not know very much,? Xhorhw confessed, eyes darting around as if he were plotting possible escape routes. ?I found them by accident while hunting several days ago. The human is very strange, she ¨C Qnaoro insisted that it was a she ¨C only had four limbs, and always stood upon two legs.? He went on to describe various things about Callan, none of which were very useful. ?She certainly seemed intelligent, and was obviously capable of speech,? he said when inquired about her behavior. ?She was also rather polite; she bowed to me in greeting,? the young male added, visibly pleased. He had likely never been on the receiving end of this gesture given his general disposition and lack of real accomplishments.
If Ghorrah had to guess, Xhorhw had likely been quite pleased with his newfound fame, at least until he tired of the endless questions that came as a result. ?You sound like you have said this all many times before.?
?Yes, hundreds!? Xhorhw rudely flicked his spines at the rhetorical statement, and froze as he realized his slip ¨C he had likely gotten too used to speaking casually with others in the past few days. It wasn¡¯t something she really cared about, but it wouldn¡¯t hurt to make him think she did.
?Is that so?? Ghorrah leaned forward, her eyes narrowing dangerously. ?Then let me ask you something else: have you seen Kharno??
?Er¡yes, she returned yesterday, and should be resting in that direction, about ten beats away,? Xhorhw said, gesturing with a wing.
?Hmm. Good,? Devotion rumbled. ?One last thing: among the dragons you spoke to in the past few days, were there any¡unusual ones??
?Erhm¡What do you mean by ¡°unusual¡±?? Xhorhw said, appearing to be confused by the vague question.
?He may have asked questions that he seemed to know the answers to,? Ghorrah suggested. She would have liked to know if Trespasser had asked about the ship, but there was no way to ask that without revealing her own knowledge.
?That is not very specific-? Xhorhw stammered.
?Think carefully now,? Ghorrah pointedly glanced around. There were no other dragons in sight. ?Do try to remember¡if it helps, this particular dragon is a green one much like yourself,? she murmured, each word drawn out just enough to insinuate her threat.
In truth there was very little chance that Xhorhw was Trespasser. It would have been trivial to link the ship he saw all those days ago to the arrival of a human, but there was no harm in letting Xhorhw think she might be suspecting him.
The young male¡¯s pupils dilated as she took a step towards him. ?N-no,? he stammered, ?But¡now that I think about it, Sharnha did seem strangely¡agitated, but I have no idea where he might be.? Xhorhw paused. ?How did you know if there was someone who-?
Ghorrah raised a foreclaw, forestalling him. ?I am not going to answer that question. But you know what you must do, yes??
Xhorhw¡¯s eyes darted to the side one more time before snorting in resignation. ?I am not stupid enough to tell anyone about anything that we talked about, if that is what you mean.?
?Good,? Ghorrah said, backing off and letting Xhorhw relax. She didn¡¯t like issuing threats to those beneath her, but this was a special case, and it wasn¡¯t as if she had actually harmed him. ?I may return in a few days. I might tell you everything if you can find the location of Sharnha,? she said by way of incentivizing him, and leapt into the air towards her next destination ¨C a small alcove tucked away into a hillside, where the dragon she was looking for rested.
?Ghorrah?? A drowsy amber-yellow dragon asked, her eyes blinking away the slumber she had just woken from. ?Is that you? What are you doing here??
?Looking for you, Kharno,? Ghorrah said, tilting her head at her old acquaintance. ?Why are you still sleeping??
?I was just resting, not sleeping,? Kharno said, straightening herself in an obvious attempt to appear more awake than she was. Then she blinked as she belatedly processed what Ghorrah had said. ?Wait, you said you were looking for me? Why??
?Two things. Do you know where Sharnha is?? Ghorrah asked, lightly tossing her head at her old acquaintance¡¯s immaturity. Kharno shook her head in the negative, so Ghorrah continued. ?Come with me. We are going to speak with Helsha, and I would rather not have to explain this twice.?
?But what if Qnaoro and the human ¨C hey, Ghorrah!? Kharno cried, and leapt up after the older dragon. ?Why are we going to see Helsha-?? He told me that he hates people visiting him!?
?He will make an exception,? Ghorrah said, though Kharno didn¡¯t seem very reassured.
?But he-? she started.
?Trust me.?
Kharno had a torn look in her eyes, but she quickly nodded and together they flew north, towards Helsha¡¯s isolated territory.
?...are you sure you would not mind telling me what this is about before we find him?? Kharno asked, several minutes into their flight.
?It is a long story,? Ghorrah chuffed. ?I do not wish to explain myself twice.?
?...how about other things? How is Jooral doing? She must still be home, right? It is surprising to see you all the way out here. When was the last time-?
Ghorrah sighed, and wondered if she should have gone to recruit Helsha first.
?...is there something wrong?? Ghorrah asked. Kharno had fallen uncharacteristically silent as they approached Helsha¡¯s territory.
Kharno opened her mouth, but was cut off by a roar from the ground ¨C Helsha was waving them down onto an empty field surrounded by the forests that he cultivated.
?Greetings, Ghorrah-?,? Helsha said, tilting his head in greeting.
?Greetings,? Ghorrah said, returning the gesture. The herbalist looked well, if a bit surly, and his patterns were a bit more vivid than she remembered ¨C perhaps he had refined his medicine in the years since they¡¯d last met.
The verdant dragon flattened his spines as Kharno landed, looking quite displeased. ?What is she doing here?? he demanded.
Ghorrah tilted her head. ?Do you two have a problem with each other??
?She killed one of my trees,? Helsha stated flatly as he glared at Kharno, who winced before ducking her head in shame.
?It was a small one! Over two hundred years ago!? she weakly protested. ?I was hoping he would have forgotten about that by now,? she muttered to Devotion.
?I never forget bumbling fools like you,? Helsha huffed. ?But enough of that. Why are you here, Ghorrah-??? He pointedly cocked his head at the Ghorrah¡¯s empty talons. ?I have no need for any more pottery, and it does not look like you are here to trade.?
?No, not exactly,? Ghorrah said, tossing her head in the negative. ?You have heard about the human, yes??
Helsha nodded. ?A young upstart informed me of the matter three days ago. What about them??
?Good,? Ghorrah nodded. ?Tell us what you know, Kharno.?
?Oh,? Kharno said. She seemed caught off-guard by this sudden request, but she quickly recited everything she knew with a practiced air, though it was nothing that Devotion didn¡¯t know. ?...and apparently she stands on two legs, is that not strange? I wonder if they ever fall over.? Kahrno took a deep breath, finally finished with her spiel.
?I have heard all this as well, though far more succinctly,? Helsha snorted.
?Yes, but that is not all that you know, is it?? Ghorrah said, fixing him with a knowing eye.
Helsha returned her look with a blank expression. He hid his surprise well.
?I know Qnaoro has already spoken with you,? Ghorrah chuffed. ?You have already met Jane Callan, have you not??
To his credit, Helsha barely reacted at all to this revelation. ?I cannot speak on this matter,? was all he said before falling silent.
Ghorrah frowned. Had he been sworn to secrecy? That might be a problem.
?Will someone tell me what is going on?? Kharno hissed. She¡¯d been looking between the two of them with increasingly widening eyes. ?When did you meet the human? And how did you know he knew??
?The humans came here on a great metal shell,? Ghorrah explained, ?but they all got sick and only two of them survived. Callan is one of them, and I have been speaking with the other one for the past seventeen days. His name is Pryce.? She glanced at Kharno, who had the look of utter betrayal on her face.
?Why did you not tell me this sooner?!? She demanded.
Ghorrah shrugged. ?We would have told you if you were the messenger.?
?Others had already left for your direction!? Kharno groaned. ?I knew I should have gone anyway.?
Ghorrah ignored her lamentations, and turned to Helsha who still appeared quite inscrutable, if a little preoccupied. ?Do you not have any questions?? she asked.
?Yes. Many,? Helsha admitted. ?But you are not done speaking yet, are you??
?No, I am not,? Ghorrah agreed, finding the deep green dragon¡¯s plainspoken attitude refreshing after hours of flying with Kharno. ?There is too much to discuss in a reasonable amount of time, but the important thing is that I have come to request that you be our ally, and that you meet Pryce.?
?...I see,? Helsha said. His eyes darted over to his surrounding forests, a conflicted look in his eyes.
?Pryce knows how to make medicine that can cure infections,? Ghorrah said, hoping that would interest the herbalist.
?What?!? Helsha hissed, surprise breaking through his stoic expression. ?How? From what??
Ghorrah blinked in bemusement at this rapid switch in personality. Perhaps he wasn''t as composed as she thought, at least when it came to what interested him. ?I do not understand it much myself, but it has something to do with extracting the natural medicine produced by mushrooms.?
?Mushrooms? But that¡no¡maybe?? Helsha¡¯s speech devolved into incoherent muttering for a beat, but he soon composed himself. ?...very well. I will join you.?
?Really?? Kharno asked. ?I thought you would want to stay with your plants.?
?I have my reasons,? Helsha replied shortly. ?Give me a few beats to prepare my things. We can talk as we fly.?
¡°Devotion is back; it seems that she found Kharno and Helsha,¡± Fortitude said, peering up at the figures in the distance.
¡°I see them,¡± Pryce said, following her line of sight. They would probably arrive in five minutes or so.
Fathom and Celeste stirred from their naps. The two of them had returned half an hour ago, having flown slightly shorter routes today in anticipation of their guests.
¡°Your heart is beating faster than normal,¡± Fortitude stated, her good wing cupped around an ¡®ear¡¯. ¡°Are you nervous?¡±
¡°Yes, and please don¡¯t listen to my heartbeat. It¡¯s creepy.¡±
Fortitude chuffed, but folded her wing in acquiescence. ¡°Do not worry. Helsha will not hurt you, and Kharno will definitely not hurt you.¡±
Pryce appreciated the reassurance, though it didn¡¯t help settle his nerves much.
¡°...Almost all dragons hate fighting people who are weaker than them,¡± Fortitude said.
¡°I know, you''ve told me this before.¡±
¡°I was not finished,¡± Fortitude chided. ¡°I was saying that not all of us are like that. A long time ago, Devotion killed a dragon who bullied many others, including Kharno, who was only twelve years old at the time. Kharno gained a deep respect for Devotion then, and for many years after that she tried to earn my partner¡¯s respect.¡± The elder dragon narrowed her eyes, the gesture denoting amusement rather than the usual irritation. ¡°She was¡cute, back then, though her actions only confused Devotion for many years.¡±
If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
Pryce raised an eyebrow, confused by the seemingly irrelevant story. ¡°And you¡¯re telling me this because¡?¡±
¡°Because I am trying to tell you that she has a very gentle, hatchling-like nature,¡± Fortitude explained. ¡°She loves to talk, and I have never heard of her starting a fight, even if she is very good at fighting.¡±
That did make him feel a bit better. ¡°Fathom hasn¡¯t killed anyone either,¡± Pryce said offhandedly.
¡°That is different,¡± Fathom snorted. ¡°I haven''t killed anyone because it shows others how strong I am, not because I don''t want to.¡±
¡°How does that show your strength?¡± Pryce asked, confused by the seemingly contradictory ideas.
¡°By not killing someone you are either saying that they aren¡¯t worth killing, or that you are strong enough that they aren¡¯t a threat,¡± Fortitude explained. ¡°Kharno is different; she simply does not want to kill. It is a bit stupid, but many dragons respect her because she is strong enough to do this for as long as she has.¡±
¡°I guess that makes sense,¡± Pryce said. He craned his head back up at the three dragons in the sky, who were at most a minute away from landing. ¡°I hope she hasn¡¯t changed much since you last saw her.¡±
Pryce watched intently as the three dragons landed one at a time to avoid fouling each other''s wings.
Devotion landed first, and after her came a dragon with verdant green wings and pale green scales. That must have been the dual-tone effect Fathom had mentioned, where the color of a dragon¡¯s hide began to be obscured by the opacity of their scales. Oddly enough, the elder dragon ¨C who had to be Helsha ¨C also had a large pitcher plant grasped in his talons. Perhaps it served as a bag, but that was far from the most interesting thing about him.
¡°I can see Helsha¡¯s patterns,¡± Pryce murmured in surprise when the glossy green dragon landed close enough for him to see. Said patterns were mirrored in structure across both wings, though the markings themselves were sprawling and chaotic in nature, almost like the cross section of a flickering flame. ¡°They''re faint, but visible.¡±
¡°Must be his medicine,¡± Fathom murmured back as Helsha folded his wings, and turned to silently stare at Pryce, his golden eyes intense and unblinking.
Next came Kharno, an amber-yellow dragon whose hide was like that of an early sunset. She was just old enough that her scales were starting to lighten, though the effect only amounted to a glossy sheen at her age.
?Is that him?? Kharno cried, the dragon stumbled as she landed, her sky-blue eyes focused solely on the human before her. ?Ghorrah, why did you not tell me he was so cute??
?What.? Fathom said.
?What.? Devotion said.
¡°What?¡± Pryce asked when Fortitude and Celeste snickered. ¡°What did she call me? I didn''t understand the last part.¡±
?...I can somewhat see it,? Fortitude said in a liting tone, or at least what passed for one for a dragon, ?In an ugly-cute sort of way.?
?Me too,? Celeste said, ?but I was going to wait until I saw more humans before saying anything.?
Devotion sighed. ?You meet a talking animal from another land and that is the first thing you say?? she asked drily.
?Yes! Just look at his face! Why is it so squashed??
¡°She does know that pointing at my face and laughing at it doesn''t need translation, right?¡± Pryce grumbled.
¡°She''s not¡laughing¡okay, now she''s laughing,¡± Fathom admitted. ?You are being very rude to my friend,? he hissed, chastising the older dragon.
?Oh, I am sorry, I really am, it is just that I did not expect you to look so-? here her good sense finally seemed to catch up to her, and she clasped her jaws shut with a deservedly ashamed expression.
Helsha had not yet uttered a single word, and had ignored their exchange while he scanned the ship, its rigging, and anything else of note. ?You. Your name is Huroumh, yes? Do you know how many humans worked together to make this¡¡°ship¡±??
?Why are you asking things we already discussed?? Devotion asked irritably. ?Are you suspecting me of lying??
?Of course not,? Helsha snorted, ?but these are unusual circumstances. I only wanted to hear his perspective.?
Devotion glowered a little at his response, but made no further comment.
?I have asked Pryce this question before,? Fathom said, ignoring their exchange. ?He does not know the exact number, but the ship was built by thousands of humans.?
?...I see,? Helsha said, his tone difficult to decipher. ?And Ghorrah-? says that there are 50 thousand thousand humans.¡± He cocked his head, and his pupils shifted as he peered more closely at Pryce. ?Ask him this for me: what does his kind intend to do here??
¡°I hope humans and dragons can become allies,¡± Pryce said, feeling oddly grateful to Devotion ¨C her distrustful nature had at least prepared him for this line of questioning. ¡°We can both help each other get what we want. Is that not reason enough?¡±
Helsha rumbled, deep in thought as he considered Fathom''s translation. ?Tell me, Huroumh: do you believe we can trust them??
?I have only ever met Pryce,? Fathom shrugged. ?He can be a little weird, but he is my friend; I trust him with my life.?
The old dragon cocked his head, apparently confused by this response. ?Yes, Ghorrah-? did mention that you two were friends. May I ask why??
?...That is a rather personal question,? Fathom huffed. ?But if it will make you trust him, then it is because he risked his life to save mine, and because he is strong*.?
*Fathom is using the Draconic word for mental strength here.
?...I see,? Helsha murmured, his eyes regarding Pryce with a curious expression. ?Ghorrah-? did tell me about his usage of mushrooms to make medicine. Would he be willing to trade for the recipe and ingredients??
?It¡¯s a very complicated process,? Fathom said, speaking from experience. ?I have seen him make it, but even I do not really understand how he does it.?
Helsha rumbled skeptically at this, likely thinking that this excuse was just that.
?We are not trying to bargain,? Fathom clarified, before Helsha could propose a trade. ?You do not have the knowledge to understand the process, and neither do I.?
The herbalist¡¯s eyes narrowed at this, but otherwise did not seem to take offense. ?Ghorrah-? says that humans grow many plants to eat. Is this true??
?Yes,? Fathom said, translating for Pryce. ?Humans nurture animals and plants in order to feed themselves, but it is much easier to nurture vegetables instead of animals. It still varies greatly from person to person, but most humans do not eat much meat.?
?...That is all the questions that I have for now,? Helsha said, and sat back on his haunches to make way for Kharno. ?It is your turn, clumsy one.?
?I am not clumsy,? Kharno muttered, but stepped forwards anyway. ¡°Ghorrah answered many of my questions on the way here, and if she trusts you then that is good enough for me.? She paused, then added, ?...I am very sorry for laughing at you. Will you forgive me if I help you??
Pryce raised an eyebrow as Fathom relayed his translation. The apology was incongruously childlike when one considered that it came from a two-hundred-and-seventy-one year old dragon. ¡°Okay, I''ll forgive you. Is there anything else that you want?¡±
Kharno paused, tilting her head in thought. ?...can I pat your head?? she asked. ?Your head-fur looks very fluffy.?
?Absolutely not,? Fathom snorted, not bothering to translate for Pryce. ?What if you squash him??
?Hmph. Maybe later, then,? Kharno sighed.
Fathom made a mental note not to leave Pryce alone with this odd dragon.
?You may consider me an ally as well,? Helsha said, and raised his makeshift bag. ?Seeing as the clumsy one has nothing important to ask, I would like to see what humans have to trade.? He reached inside and plucked out a brown, ovular pod about 20 centimeters long. Pryce wasn¡¯t sure if it was a fruit, seed, or some kind of nut. ?I find that the taste of this fruit is quite nice. I am interested in trading it for any seeds that you have.?
¡°Ooh,¡± Fortitude cooed, ¡°those have a nice flavor,¡± she said as Pryce accepted the hard fruit with both hands. He wasn''t sure how it was supposed to be eaten; its surface was so hard that his fingernails barely scratched it.
?You are supposed to eat it like this,? Helsha said, popping a second pod into his mouth and cracking it in two with his powerful molars.
¡°Yeah, I don''t think I can do that,¡± Pryce said, his own experimental bites only leading small impressions into its surface. Before he could get a knife, Fathom deftly plucked the pod out of his hands, snapped it in two, and handed it back to Pryce.
¡°Er¡thanks.¡± The insides were oddly segmented, white, and slimy ¨C greatly resembling an oversized maggot or larva, and about as appetizing.
¡°I''ll just try a small piece for now, just in case it''s poisonous to me,¡± Pryce said, for once glad for the excuse. He nibbled on a small piece, which was¡actually quite good, despite its appearance. The pulpy flesh had an earthy taste, and was sweet and tangy with a slightly sour note. He kept one segment and reluctantly tossed the rest to Fathom, who slurped it up with a pleased rumble. ¡°That tastes very good,¡± Pryce said to Helsha, which Fathom helped translate.
?This kind of fruit was created by a dragon who lived a long time ago,? Helsha explained. ?There are many different types, but they are all named Tchouco, after their first creator.?
¡°Interesting,¡± Pryce said. He¡¯d have to ask who discovered how to breed plants later. ¡°You said her name was¡Choco?¡±
?Tchouco,? Helsha corrected.
¡°...Cho-co.¡±
?Tch-ouco,? Helsha said, enunciating the syllables.
¡°That''s what I said.¡±
?I can hear what you meant when you said he could not speak properly,? Helsha huffed to Devotion. ?Can you say my name? Hel-sha.?
Pryce could not.
?I suppose I would rather have a second name,? Helsha sighed. ?Do you have any in mind??
¡°I do, actually, but first I need to explain a few things.¡± Pryce picked up the camera and took a picture of Helsha, then held up the resulting photograph. ¡°This is a photograph.¡±
?...so this is what you spoke of,? Helsha murmured to Devotion, his eyes fixed squarely on the image in question. ?It is indeed difficult to believe without seeing it for myself.?
Pryce held the image up to Helsha. ¡°You can have it if you want.¡±
Helsha blinked, then his eyes narrowed in suspicion. ?What do you want in return??
?He does not want anything in return,? Fathom clarified, though Helsha still seemed wary for some reason. ?It is not difficult for him to make a photograph,? he added, and only then did the herbalist accept the gift. He stared at it for a few moments before wedging one side under a scale for safekeeping.
?Can I have one?? Kharno asked, her blue eyes shining bright with curiosity. ?Wait¡? she fidgeted in place before settling on a regal pose. ?Okay, ready!?
?Why did you show me this?? Helsha asked, ignoring Kharno as she doted over her new treasure.
¡°Because that helps you understand this,¡± Pryce said, and opened a textbook to show an image depicting the cross-section of a plant stem. ¡°If you look on the inside of a plant, you''ll see tiny little structures that support the plant and give it strength; they are called Xylem.¡±
Helsha stared at the picture, golden eyes wide and shining. ?This is¡the inside of a plant??
¡°Yes, you can see for yourself,¡± Pryce said, sliding the outer membrane of a choco fruit underneath the lens of the microscope. ¡°Those rectangular things you see there are also Xylems.¡±
Helsha stared into the eyepiece, apparently transfixed. Fathom took the opportunity to explain how microscopes worked the same way.
?Using glass to bend light,? the herbalist sighed. ?I never imagined something like this would be possible.? He lifted his head away from the microscope, begrudgingly allowing Kharno a turn to use the device.
¡°Is it alright if I name you after these structures?¡± Pryce asked.
¡°Xy-lem,¡± Helsha said. He seemed to mull it over for a moment before nodding. ?Acceptable.?
?Can you put other things into this microscope?¡± Kharno asked excitedly. ?Like a scale or a wing-?
?No time for that,? Devotion snorted. ?We would be here for many days if he showed you everything.?
?Oh, alright,? Kharno chuffed. ?What about my name? Can you say Kha-rno??
Pryce sighed. ¡°Kharno.¡±
?...mmm¡close enough,? Kharno said unexpectedly.
¡°Really?¡± Pryce asked.
¡°Not even close,¡± Devotion snorted.
Fortitude shrugged. ¡°It is her name. Let her decide if it is good enough.¡±
?When can someone teach me human speech?? Kharno asked, her eyes narrowed. ?It is very annoying to not be able to understand him.?
Fortitude tossed her head in the negative. ?No time for that, we need to gather more allies before the solstice.?
?Yes, about that¡? Xylem said. ?I strongly suggest speaking with Yantha and Karoth next.?
?The twins?? Fathom asked, blinking in surprise. ?Why??
?I cannot say.?
¡°He has refused to answer any questions regarding Aurum and Callan,¡± Devotion explained. ¡°He must have made a promise not to tell anyone about their meeting.¡±
¡°So he¡¯s trying to help us while keeping his promise?¡± Pryce asked. ¡°I don''t suppose he can give us any more details?¡±
Fortitude echoed his request for elaboration, but Xylem simply repeated his suggestion, adding ?I recommend taking your time with them.?
¡°He must mean that those two are the last ones Aurum plans to visit,¡± Fortitude said. ¡°At least the last ones he knows of.¡±
¡°Then I will go meet them tomorrow, and I will stay until Aurum arrives,¡± Devotion said. ¡°If he has already left, then I will ask the twins where he went. Can you stay at the Plateau and bring Qnaoro here if he arrives early?¡± she asked Kharno, who was visibly reluctant to leave.
?Why do I have to leave? I have so many questions!?
?Ask them later,? Devotion sighed. ?We already have to repeat this conversation for every ally we gather.?
?Well, I would not mind repeating things to others,? Kharno said blithely. ?I have already been doing that these past few days with the news about Callan.?
Fortitude tilted her head, humming thoughtfully. ?Perhaps you can visit the twins instead of Ghorrah,? she suggested to Kharno, who nodded eagerly. ?You can return to the plateau instead, my wings,? she continued, nudging her partner. ?Rest there for a day or two, and keep your eyes on the situation. I am sure you can influence the younger dragons there as well, while you are there,? she added, before Devotion could reject the notion of needing rest.
?...I suppose you are right,? Devotion sighed.
Fathom translated this idea for Pryce, who seemed a bit doubtful. ¡°Can she be trusted with finding Callan?¡± he asked, casting a doubtful glance at Kharno.
¡°She is reliable, even if she does not look like it,¡± Devotion admitted. ¡°It would be better to send her to the twins instead of the Plateau. She is better at talking than I am.¡±
¡°Alright,¡± Pryce nodded. ¡°I¡¯ll trust your judgment.¡±
Fortitude nodded and relayed their decision to Kharno, who visibly brightened. Turning to Xylem, she asked, ?Is there anyone that you could convince to join us??
?Unfortunately not,? Xylem huffed. ?I have not left my territory in a long time. Qnaoro is one of the few dragons who I am on speaking terms with. The others are too far away; your attention is better spent on those closer.¡±
Devotion cocked her head, ?Then what will you be doing in the time before the solstice??
Xylem glanced towards Pryce and gestured to his bag. ?First we will determine what other fruits Pryce deems valuable, then I will go home and prepare to trade with the humans.?
"Good idea," Pryce nodded. "What do you want in return? Shiny things?"
Xylem shook his head upon hearing Fathom¡¯s translation. ?I assume you have seeds from your land.?
¡°Ah,¡± Pryce said, furrowing his brow. Many scientists had expressed concern about contaminating an ecosystem with foreign crops, but in the end simple pragmatism won out ¨C a settlement needed something to eat, after all, but he didn¡¯t feel like it was fair to agree to this trade without warning the draconic botanist.
?I know what you speak of,? Xylem replied, surprising Pryce.
¡°You do? How?¡±
?I have nurtured seeds from other islands before. Some have escaped my control. I will be careful.?
¡°He means small, nearby islands,¡± Fathom added to his translation.
¡°I see,¡± Pryce murmured. ¡°Give me a few minutes to gather my things; then we can trade.¡±
[JOURNAL ENTRY]
Day 97,
To summarize tomorrow¡¯s plan:
Fathom: Patrolling North
Celeste: Patrolling South
Devotion: Going back to the plateau to keep an eye on things, and try to influence perception without telling them of humans
Fortitude: Sleeping on the deck / guarding me
Xylem/Helsha: Going back home to prepare for the arrival of more humans. He has promised to return in a day or two
Kharno: Seeking ¡°the twins¡± Yantha and Karoth to intercept Aurum and Callan
Xylem has introduced me to a few fruits that dragons like to cultivate. These plants/fruits were named after the dragons who created them long ago (presumably via selective breeding).
I¡¯ve given Xylem the seeds of a few staple crops and fruit seeds in return, as well as information on how to grow them. Any fruits on the ship have long since spoiled, but he still seemed quite excited to go home and begin planting.
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Choco pods(?)
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Long pods ~20 cm in length. A white, spongy inside is revealed once the tough outer layer is removed, which has a rather nice tangy, sour, and earthy flavor ¨C quite tasty.
I can see this becoming quite popular back home, though Xylem has expressed that the trees are rather picky about their environment. Even if we could grow them in greenhouses, the supply would be unlikely to match the demand.
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Coffee beans(?)
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A fruit resembling a large bean ~5 cm in length. Dragons consider it to be very flavorful, and it is a popular cooking ingredient.
Unfortunately, these beans are too difficult to chew for a human such as myself.
The coffee beans have an aromatic scent. Perhaps it could be made into some sort of tea?
I will attempt to make it more palatable once I have verified that the choco pods have no ill effects on the human body.
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Scalefruit (Translation)
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A strange yellow-green fruit that has a strikingly scale-like pattern. Washing this fruit resulted in the ¡®scales¡¯ falling off on their own, revealing the delicate (and allegedly delicious) interior.
Its creation was allegedly a product of the work of two dragons working together over the course of many decades. Apparently the battle for the naming rights ended in a draw, and so the fruit was named after its distinctive pattern rather than any particular dragon.
Exceedingly delicious, according to all dragons present. It certainly smelled very nice, but I could not try it without invalidating the sample test of the choco pod.
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Silanta
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A rather fragrant and fresh leafy plant, Silanta is a common cooking ingredient.
Apparently quite easy to grow.
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Chapter 60, Day 98: Blind Faith, Guiding Vigilance
Ghorrah scoped out the Plateau, counting the dragons visible from her vantage point. A few others stared back. She suppressed the urge to roll her shoulders, stiff from flying as they were. There were quite a few more dragons present than yesterday. It would not be the Solstice for another four days, and yet there were already enough dragons to resemble a small gathering at its peak.
She brushed these idle thoughts aside and began cataloging the dragons she recognized, making a mental list of those who would be most likely to know where Sharnha was. The suspected trespasser was still an unknown factor; one that she planned to deal with as soon as possible.
Her shoulders gave another dull, aching throb that reminded Ghorrah of her beloveds¡¯ suggestion to rest. She shrugged it off, but not without a mental compromise; she would rest, but only if she could not locate her target by the end of the day.
?Sharnha? I believe I saw him earlier today,? Rahsun replied. He was a yellow dragon, 172 years old, and the twelfth individual she had spoken with thus far. ?He should still be over there, on the east side of the river-? he paused to point northwest with a talon, ?-about a hand of beats away.?
?Appreciated,? Ghorrah said, dipping her head in thanks. All of the others she had spoken with had either not seen the Trespasser or had given her faulty directions. Rahsun seemed somewhat more confident than the others, though something seemed off about his behavior¡perhaps he was only reluctant to reveal his association with the disreputable dragon.
?Glad to be of help,¡± Rahsun said, scratching the side of his neck. Ghorrah was about to turn away when she noticed a rather deep scar that ran along the male¡¯s neck.
?Where did you get that?? Ghorrah asked, cocking her head. ?I did not think there were many who could deal you such a grievous injury,? she added when Rahsun was reluctant to answer. It wasn¡¯t a complete lie; the male was known as a rather capable combatant, though she didn¡¯t know or trust him enough to tell him about the humans.
?Ah, well¡you could say that I had a disagreement with Anqila,? Rahsun grumbled. ?I sent him flying off with his tail between his legs, but not without taking a few bad hits myself. I did not think Vosae would let them run wild like that, but if you ask me those Brewer clan dragons are getting bolder with each passing year.?
Ghorrah frowned. She had heard the sentiment multiple times this morning, but it was usually from some dragon who tried to bite off more than he could swallow, and Rahsun was too old for such recklessness. With nothing more to say she thanked him for his time and departed for her next destination.
Their conversation was troubling, but it had also served to further stymie her on another matter.
Why had the Trespasser not told everyone about the human ship? He had the handle, which should have been enough to support his outlandish story, and yet not a single dragon she had spoken to had mentioned anything about what the Trespasser had seen that day.
The Plateau itself was not terribly large, and within ten beats she sighted a green dragon napping by the side of the river. The coloration alone was no guarantee, but she made sure to come in from above in case he tried to escape.
The napping dragon lifted his head and visibly tensed at the sight of her, but otherwise made no attempt to flee.
?You are Sharnha, yes?? Ghorrah asked, purposefully landing downwind of her target.
?Indeed,? Sharnha replied, eyeing her uneasily. ?What brings you here, Ghorrah-snap??
?I am simply here to learn more about the human,? Ghorrah said casually, though internally she was bemused by his lack of reaction. ?I was under the impression that someone like you would surely know more than the others.?
The wind picked up as she spoke, carrying her quarry¡¯s scent towards her and confirming her suspicions beyond all scrutiny*.
*This Draconic expression used here features the verb for magnifying one''s eyesight ¨C the closest translation being scrutiny.
She had found the Trespasser.
Sharnha did not seem to notice the slight narrowing of her eyes, instead appearing to relax upon receiving her explanation. ?If only that were true. The value of such information would be tremendous,? he sighed, a look of longing in his eyes, ?but I am afraid I have nothing on this subject to trade with.?
This response was completely natural, and it surprised Ghorrah that Sharnha could act so casually around her. She couldn¡¯t think of any reason why he would pretend not to recognize her, so had he not seen her after all?
?...are you sure? I would be willing to pay, of course,? she said, hoping to draw more out of the trespasser.
For a moment he hesitated, this material offer appearing to sway him. ?I do have a certain¡lead,? he said, seeing Ghorrah¡¯s frown. ?Give me a day or two; by then I might have found something truly worth your while.?
Ah. So that was his goal.
Sharnha had the handle ¨C something that no dragon could create. He could conceivably use it as proof that he had seen a great metal shell (something that was surely constructed by the humans) but he lost this opportunity when Pryce moved the ship.
This short conversation had more or less affirmed what she knew of this dragon ¨C an ambitious individual stunted by his own caution, even as it kept him alive. The location of the ship was far more valuable than a story about its existence. If she had to guess, Sharnha hadn''t told anyone about the door handle because he wanted to find the ship himself rather than let things turn into a free-for-all.
Left alone he would likely scour the coastlines in an attempt to find the ship, and that would not do.
Ghorrah looked around, and made sure no one was around to eavesdrop. ?Come with me,? she muttered, ?I know something that will be of interest to you.?
?What?? Sharnha blinked. ?What is it??
?I will tell you on the way there,? Ghorrah said offhandedly. She walked away in preparation for takeoff, only to turn back and see Sharnha frozen in a half-sitting half-standing, clearly unsure of what to do. ?I promise it will be worth your time,? she sighed, tossing her head in exasperation.
A minute later they were up in the air, with Sharnha trailing by her side. Ghorrah resisted the urge to flick her membranes ¨C individuals such as him were always so predictable.
?...I believe you said you would tell me on the way,? Sharnha said, breaking the relative silence.
?It is something regarding the human, as you have likely guessed.? Ghorrah replied stiffly. ?I need you to make me a promise of confidentiality[1] before I tell you more.?
?Yes, of course I promise,? Sharnha said, though his words were belied by an undertone of disappointment. ?Now, you were saying??
Ghorrah sighed, bracing herself for yet another long conversation.
Sharnha has a reputation as the sort of dragon who often knew more than he should. Whether by spying or by trading, he (and others like him) were eager to share their knowledge ¨C for a price, of course.
In short, Sharnha was not the sort of dragon who Ghorrah would ever trust in a personal sense, but he, like most dragons, could certainly be trusted to look out for his own interests.
It was for this reason that Ghorrah made sure to emphasize the treasures that humans could create ¨C once she had given him an overview of the current state of affairs, of course.
Perhaps she needn''t have bothered, seeing as how Sharnha clung onto each word like starved hatchling, but Ghorrah decided to err on the side of caution. So long as he believed working with humans would be profitable, he could be trusted.
It also helped ensure that he did not bolt when Ghorrah told them she had been among the three dragons who were supposed to be in Huroumh''s territory.
?Wait, you were¡!?
?If I were going to hurt you, I would have already done it,? Ghorrah snapped. ?Huroumh will not either, unless you are going to start bleeding from a few harsh words.? She paused and frowned at all oddity. ¡°How did you not see me if you were already there??
?Oh, I made sure to avoid you three,? Sharnha said dismissively. ?I was not able to get a good look at any of you. I realized my mistake when the ¡®ship¡¯ disappeared, and so I purposefully appeared slightly suspicious. Anyone who had knowledge about the human would likely be trying to find others who were acting oddly. I was worried I was not obvious enough; that Xhorhw is a bit of a dullard.?
Ghorrah narrowed her eyes, irritated at having been anticipated like this. The plan had apparently worked, but there was still something that didn''t make sense. ?And was leaving your scent behind also part of your plan?? she asked skeptically.
The informant glanced to the side, not quite meeting her eyes. ?Well, I did not want to deal with three immediately hostile individuals, so-?
?You panicked and fled,? Ghorrah finished dryly.
?I thought I heard someone!? Sharnha retorted defensively, dropping the pretense of having any kind of plan.
Ghorrah added ¡°coward¡± to her mental profile of this one. It was no wonder she had never heard of him achieving any notable victories. Perhaps if they needed someone to sneak around then he would be useful, but Ghorrah would certainly never rely on him in a fight.
?I know this made it possible for those working with the human to locate me,? Sharnha said, perhaps sensing some of her disdain, ?but I deemed that risk worth the reward. These humans can make amazing things, far and beyond what any dragon can create. I am certain they could completely usurp the Brewer clan if they were to trade with us; that fact alone makes them invaluable allies.?
?I see¡? Ghorrah rumbled. ?It makes sense that the creator clans could perceive the humans as a threat, but Vosae-snap is reasonable. She will see reason in cooperation.?
?Reasonable?? Sharha stared, an incredulous look in his eyes. ?If by ¡°reasonable¡± you mean ¡°completely and utterly ruthless¡±, then yes, I suppose she is quite reasonable,? he grumbled sarcastically.
Ghorrah glanced back at the informant. His tone had been dismissive, but he had an oddly shaken look in his eyes. ?She is far from a gentle soul, but I do not know her to be cruel.?
?And when was the last time you saw her?? Sharnha shot back. ?Because the last time I tried to make alcohol I was nearly killed by her clan! I had to promise to never do it again, in addition to paying a ¡®toll¡¯,? he growled, shuddering at the memory.
She knew better than to trust this biased story, but it didn¡¯t contradict the accounts she had heard from others either. The punishment was uncharacteristically extreme, especially on a dragon who posed as little threat as Sharnha. It was another sign that the clan leader had changed in recent years. ?Perhaps she has changed in the last half century or so,? she admitted.
?You should be prepared to have her as an enemy,? Sharnha warned, his tone leaving little room for doubt. ?She will not bother to cooperate with humans. Not when she has so much to lose.?
?You seem quite certain about this,? Ghorrah said, her eyes narrowing. ¡°That leaves me with a question: Why ally with the humans if that means making her an enemy? Are you not afraid that she will kill you this time??
Sharnha made a casual dismissive motion with his arms. ?Like I said, what could any dragon offer me that a human could not? Besides, I would be glad to see Vosae at a disadvantage for once.?
?I see,? Ghorrah rumbled. He clearly just wanted to see Vosae beaten without lifting a talon himself, but at least his motives were transparent.
?So, what else can humans make?? Sharnha asked, his eyes gleaming with avarice. ¡°If they can make copies of sights then does that mean they can also make copies of sounds? What about-?
Ghorrah tiredly shut her eyes and wondered if she should have gone to the twins instead of Kharno.
The radio remained frustratingly silent as Celeste languidly panned her head about. She made an incremental adjustment to her wings, steadily regaining a bit of altitude that she had gradually lost to her inattentiveness.
She was so bored.
Celeste had been prepared to remain vigilant on her patrols, but there had barely been anyone to avoid for the first two days, and even when she did spot one it was laughably easy to fly around them in a wide arc.
She had never been to this far north of the island before, so the first day of patrolling was actually quite engaging. The issue had begun on the second day, when she had to fly the same route south all over again.
A dragon could fly in a state of half-wakefulness with ease, but scanning the horizons required a certain degree of conscious thought; just enough to make patrolling unbearably mind-numbing.
It was for this reason that she had requested to swap routes with her father on the dawn of the second day, hoping that a change of scenery would make the daily flight less tedious. He had agreed ¨C though he seemed oddly reluctant to do so ¨C and on that day she had flown north while her father flew south.
The new landscape had helped less than she''d hoped, and she spent much of the second day occupying herself with practice maneuvers (not play, she insisted to the nagging voice that sounded like Ghorrah) to combat her boredom. This had worked, but it also had the unfortunate side effect of tiring herself out, and she had to spend the rest of the day¡¯s travels in a sedate and boring glide.
And now she was back to patrolling the south, with nothing to hold her attention.
Skies above, there were still another four days until the Solstice! Who knew looking for beings that could travel across the ocean would be so boring?
At least she was nearing the end of her route. Celeste scanned the skies again ¨C she had lost track of how many times she''d done that today ¨C and was surprised to see a faint yellow speck in the distance.
Well, that was inconvenient. It would be suspicious of her if she turned around now. Perhaps it would be a better idea to fly around this individual before doubling back some time later.
Just as she was about to commit to this decision she realized there was another dragon behind and above the first, with this new dragon possessing a rather vibrant orange hue.
Celeste recognized this odd flight formation, realizing that these two must be Nanzo and Lakath.
For a moment she was torn; she wasn''t supposed to recruit anyone, but there wasn''t a good reason to just ignore them either, especially when they needed more allies.
Decision made she began the irksome process of removing the radio receiver to hide it in her hands. It was odd how the prickly ¡°velcro¡± could stick to fuzzy things, but she appreciated how much easier it was to use than a strap.
Preparations complete, she bellowed out a greeting, only to receive an oddly tentative response in return.
Beat by beat they closed the distance between them, and Celeste soon confirmed their identities. Their colors had changed since the last time she''d seen them, but their physical features had not ¨C especially the orange female¡¯s white, scarred eyes, which gazed in her direction despite their blindness.
A few beats closer and Celeste could hear Lakath¡¯s signature clicks, which she made in short bursts.
Celeste ignored those odd noises, and called out a proper greeting to the two older dragons.
?Hello, Ahnoumh,¡± Lakath and Nanzo replied, dipping their heads politely. Celeste reversed direction and flapped her wings until she matched their pace, allowing them to speak properly.
?What are you doing here?¡± Lakath said, the blind dragon staring with an unblinking expression. ?Delivering news, I assume??
?Did something happen at the Plateau?? Nanzo asked, his expression critical but not hostile.
?In a way, yes, and no, at least not that I know of,? Celeste answered. ¡°I do have something to tell you two, but you have to make me a promise of confidentiality first.?
?I promise,? Lakath said, her milky eyes blinking interestedly.
Nanzo did not immediately respond, instead his eyes darted to Celeste''s clenched foreclaws before glancing back at Lakath, who stared back at him with an expectant air. ?Very well, you have my promise. Now, what did you find? Should we fly back to tell Ghorrah-snap and Jooral-snap?"
?You do not have to worry about them,? Celeste grinned, but her smile faded as she considered a possible difficulty, ?Err¡has she gotten better at landing??
Pryce frowned as he sipped at the dark liquid. The ¡°coffee¡± tea still had a bitter taste even when diluted with a generous helping of sugar and ghee, which was hardly surprising; those two ingredients made anything taste good.
Perhaps some other method of preparation could make it more palatable, but he rather doubted these coffee beans would ever be popular.
Dragons, on the other hand¡
¡°This is even better than before,¡± Fortitude said, licking her pot of coffee clean. ¡°But it is a little too sweet. Maybe use less sugar next time?¡±
¡°I don''t have many beans left,¡± Pryce said. ¡°I¡¯ll have to save some for Xylem. I''m sure he''d be interested in trying some.¡±
¡°Oh,¡± the elder dragon said, looking quite disappointed. ¡°Do you have any human foods I can try?¡± she asked hopefully.
¡°I don¡¯t have much left, and certainly not enough to feed you,¡± Pryce said, leaving out the fact that Fathom ate most of it. ¡°Ask Fathom or Celeste to get you something when they get back.¡±
Fortitude sighed; that would not be for another two hours. She looked up in vain hope at the sky and- ¡°Oh, Celeste is back early,¡± she said, then her head perked up in surprise. ¡°There are two others with her.¡±
¡°What?¡± Pryce looked up and saw a few faint dots to the south. ¡°Can you tell who they are?¡± He asked, grabbing his binoculars.
Fortitude¡¯s eyes shifted as she scrutinized the unknown dragons. ¡°No, they are too far¡wait, those must be Lakath and Nanzo,¡± she said, sounding faintly surprised. ¡°You have not heard of them. They will be good allies, but I did not expect them to leave their home.¡±
¡°I see¡do they live far from here?¡±
¡°Far enough. Celeste must have seen them while she was patrolling,¡± Fortitude mused. She paused, then asked, ¡°Can humans cure a human who cannot see?¡±
Pryce blinked, surprised by what seemed to be a non-sequitur. ¡°That''s called being blind, and no, we can''t cure that. Why do you ask?¡±
¡°Lakath is blind.¡±
¡°She''s¡what?¡± Pryce stammered, returning to his binoculars. ¡°But she''s flying, how can she fly if she''s blind?¡±
¡°Lakath spent many years learning how to use sound to see. Now she can do many things without help, but it is still safer for her to fly with Nanzo.¡±
¡°I see,¡± Pryce murmured. ¡°Are they partners?¡±
¡°They¡have a strange relationship. They are close, and they have known each other for a long time, but there seems to be a reason why they are not partners. You should not ask about it.¡±
¡°Understood,¡± Pryce said. He had no intention of prying into their private lives anyway, but the warning was nevertheless appreciated. He frowned as a realization occurred to him. ¡°I hope Celeste hasn''t told them that I can fix her eyes.¡±
¡°...that would be bad,¡± Fortitude admitted. ¡°But I do not think she will do that; she is not stupid.¡±
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
¡°Let''s hope so. Is there anything else I should know?¡±
Fortitude paused, tilting her head in thought. ¡°Nanzo is good at fighting, but not as good as Kharno or Helsha. Lakath was very strong, but that was before she was blind. She can still fight, but only on the ground. Like me.¡±
¡°I see¡¡± Pryce said, but his thoughts were interrupted by something else in the sky.
¡°Hmm. Devotion is back,¡± Fortitude said, sounding faintly displeased but unsurprised.
¡°Really? That''s good timing.¡± Pryce peered through his binoculars. ¡°Wait, who''s that with her?¡±
¡°I do not recognise him, but I am certain it is the Trespasser.¡±
¡°Are you sure? How do you know that?¡± The new dragon was indeed green, but Fortitude had no way of recognizing him on sight, nevermind the fact that he was barely a dot in the sky.
¡°I know her,¡± Fortitude said, chuffing affectionately. ¡°She knows that Trespasser can be dangerous, and I knew she would try to find him.¡±
Pryce raised an eyebrow. ¡°Didn''t you tell her to get some rest? Why bother saying that if you knew she wasn''t going to listen?¡±
Fortitude shrugged. ¡°Some things should be said, even if saying it does nothing. You will understand, if you are lucky enough to have a partner in the future¡unless humans are different like that.¡±
¡°...no, not in that regard, but let''s focus on more relevant things; how is Lakath going to land on the ship?¡±
¡°Oh.¡± Fortitude said, and scratched her chin. ¡°That might be a problem.¡±
Celeste and her companions were the first to arrive. She landed on the ship first while the others circled up above. ¡°I know we had not planned to do this but I met them near the end of my patrol,¡± she said in a rush, preemptively defending herself.
¡°You were not wrong to bring them back,¡± Fortitude reassured. ?We do know them, after all.?
Pryce watched as Nanzo guided Lakath on several passes over the ship. She was making odd clicking noises that must have been echolocation. Each pass she descended a bit more, until she flared her wings and dropped onto the deck. The landing was a bit rough, but done with surprising grace for one with no eyesight. She folded her wings against her back, exposing two puckered scars located on the right side of her chest. Pryce stared as he tried to understand what could have caused such an injury ¨C it couldn¡¯t have been impalement, could it?
?This ship is very easy to hear. It must be all that metal,? Lakath said, pleased. Her head cocked back and forth, quickly locating Fortitude. ?Hello, Jooral. I assume that is you??
?Indeed. Your hearing has improved.?
?Practice always helps,? Lakath said absently as Nanzo landed behind her and voiced his own greeting. ?Where is that human?? she asked, her spines splayed as she panned her head around.
¡°Hello,¡± Pryce said, startling the larger dragon. ¡°Sorry, I didn''t mean to hide.¡±
?I suppose it should be expected for someone so small to be so quiet,? Lakath said when Fortitude translated for her. ?Ahnoumh tells me that you can understand most of our speech. May I inspect you?¡± She asked, approaching him step-by-step with incremental clicks.
¡°Of course, so long as you don''t hurt me.¡±
Celeste relayed his acceptance, then watched in amusement as Lakath clicked at Pryce to get a good ¡°image¡± of him.
?Your scent is fainter than most animals, but oddly salty,¡± the blind dragon murmured.
Unsure of what to do, Pryce offered a hand for her perusal, which she accepted with a few careful prods with the back of her talons.
He tried to ignore how awkward it all was.
?No scales, but no fur either¡hide, but soft? Five fingers, like us, but¡very small¡¡®talons¡¯...?
¡°I do have fur here,¡± Pryce said, which Celeste translated. Slowly, he guided a talon to the top of his head.
?Strange¡? she murmured, her jaws slightly parted in perplexity as she gently patted his head. ?You are very difficult to visualize.¡±
¡°Kharno will be envious,¡± Fortitude chuckled.
Nanzo cocked his head. ?Kharno? Does she already know of¡all this?? he asked, vaguely gesturing to their surroundings.
?She only found out yesterday,? Fortitude answered, ¡°along with Helsha. Ghorrah knows too, of course, but that is it.?
Nanzo cocked his head at this information. ?Trying to gather allies, I take it??
?Yes. We did not expect you to travel to the Plateau, else we would have tried to find you,? Fortitude said in a slightly apologetic tone.
Nanzo did not seem offended, instead glancing up at the approaching Devotion and Trespasser. ?And who is that one??
?A certain trespasser,? Fortitude shrugged. ?You were there, Ahnoumh, you should be the one to tell them.?
?Ah, so he was that ¡°trespasser¡± of yours,? Nanzo said, a critical frown in his eyes. ?It is rather daring of you to bring him here, but I suppose they do say it is better to keep your enemies where you can see them.?
?It was his idea, actually,? Fortitude said, gesturing to Pryce.
¡°Really?¡± Nanzo lowered his head to eye Pryce. For a moment he seemed like he was about to say something, but he pulled his head away as the two more dragons made to land.
?Hello Lakath, Nanzo,¡± Ghorrah said, dipping her head in greeting as she landed. Turning to Pryce, she said, ¡°this is Sharnha. He is a coward who was sneaking around when he saw us fly to the ship. He is your Trespasser.¡±
?What a strange looking creature,? Sharnha muttered, oblivious to Ghorrah¡¯s insults. ?I am surprised to see you two here,? he added off-handedly to his fellow newcomers.
Nanzo snorted. ?I would be lying if I said the same.?
?Do you know each other?? Celeste asked, glancing between them.
?We were neighbors as hatchlings,? Nanzo said coldly. ?I grew up. He did not.?
?Still as much of a dried branch as ever,? Sharnha sighed. ?And to think you used to be fun."
?Cease your bickering,¡± Ghorrah growled, interrupting the two before an argument broke out. ?Do you not have more important matters to discuss??
?Ah, yes.? Sharnha turned back to Pryce. ?I am glad we are able to see each other properly this time. I¡did not have time to think clearly that day, and I acted rashly, but I hope we can have a mutually beneficial relationship from now on.?
Celeste flattened her spines at this flowery explanation. ?So many words, and yet no apology,? she growled.
?Apologies will not help you, but information can,? Sharnha said smoothly, ?It seems none of you are aware how much of a threat the Brewer clan poses to you. Perhaps she was not like this before, but I and many others have had firsthand experience with her cruelty.?
¡°Do not trust him,¡± Fortitude said, in a way that made it sound like it was part of her translation. ¡°Dragons who make trouble like him always try to blame others.¡±
¡°I thought so too,¡± Devotion said, ¡°but others at the Plateau had similar stories to this one.¡±
Fortitude blinked at this, then narrowed her eyes in silent contemplation. She appeared to be genuinely troubled by this information.
¡°Are they that big of a threat?¡± Pryce asked. ¡°I thought clans only have a few tens of dragons at most.¡±
¡°That is true, but the Brewer clan has many connections,¡± Celeste answered, ¡°Alcohol is not the only thing they can make, but it is what they are known for. There are many dragons who owe favors to them, and those the clan owe favors to do not want them weakened.¡±
¡°They have a¡web across the land,¡± Fortitude added. ¡°Some smaller clans may trade with them because it is easier to trade with them than it is for individual dragons.¡±
Pryce frowned and rubbed his chin in thought. That sounded almost like a shipping or retail company. ¡°If this clan leader decides that they don''t want humans on this island, how bad would that be?¡±
¡°That would be¡not good, but I do not think that would happen,¡± Fortitude said, though there was a note of uncertainty in her voice. ¡°What do you think, Ghorrah?¡±
?There is growing discontent against the Brewer clan. We should be prepared to deal with them,? Devotion said, then repeated the more complex sentence to Pryce in English.
?I have heard that as well,? Nanzo said, with Lakath nodding in agreement.
¡°What do you mean ¡®prepare¡¯?¡± Pryce asked, turning to Devotion. ¡°I don¡¯t see how we can do much more than we already are.¡±
¡°There is not,¡± Fortitude agreed, ¡°but when the time comes we could gain support from dragons who have something against the Brewer clan.¡±
¡°I see¡¡±
¡°You don¡¯t look happy about this,¡± Celeste noted.
¡°I would prefer for there to be as little conflict as possible. Anything else and things would get¡messy.¡±
Fortitude gave a half-hearted shrug. ¡°You are not wrong, but there is a good chance the Brewer clan will want to work with you instead. We can try to convince them of that first.¡±
?Could someone translate the English for us?? Lakath asked, apparently having learned the words from Celeste on their flight here.
?You will need to know how many dragons would go against the Brewer clan,? Sharnha said when they had all been caught up. ?I could go back to the Plateau in an attempt to learn this.?
¡°He is suggesting that you pay him to do this,¡± Celeste said with unconcealed disgust.
¡°That¡¯s not a problem. Tell him to give me a few minutes to get my things, and please ask Lakath and Nanzo what they would like in return for their help.¡±
?There is no need for payment,? Nanzo said. ?I am still in your debt, Jooral-snap. If you wish for my assistance then you will have it.?
?Likewise. I am eager to put my combat practice to good use,? Lakath said, her jaws parted in a grin.
Fortitude shook her head, lightly chastising. ?There is no debt to speak of, but your aid would be greatly appreciated.?
For a moment Nanzo seemed like he was going to object, but in the end he only stiffly nodded in acceptance.
?Now that that is settled, what sort of things are you willing to trade?? Sharnha asked as he looked about the ship. ?These look like vines, but different,¡± he said, tugging on a bit of rigging. ?Do they not rot??
¡°No, they don¡¯t. Do you want some?¡±
Sharnha opened his mouth as if eager to say ¡®yes¡¯, but quickly closed it again. ?Show me your other things first,? he said in what was likely meant to be a reserved tone.
It took Pryce a few minutes to gather his ¡®goods¡¯. Over the past few days he had asked Fortitude about the things dragons would find desirable. Shiny and beautiful things were obvious, of course, but she had pointed out that human tools would be invaluable. For example, vines were often used in place of rope ¨C Fortitude had even shown him a few knots ¨C but they did not last long before needing to be replaced. Smaller vines could be used as string to stitch hide, but this also meant that the durability of the resulting tools left much to be desired. Fishing string and sewing threads were probably too thin for dragons to use, but he did have a great amount of rope aboard.
Another useful tool was the machete. It was comically small in the hands of a dragon, but it was large enough to be (awkwardly) used. Talons might serve to rip apart almost anything, but they would never be able to make the clean cuts that a knife could. This tool was admittedly more useful to artisans like Fortitude, but it had the benefit of being shiny in addition to being useful.
¡°Let¡¯s be clear,¡± Pryce said, placing some rope, a machete, and some glassware on the floor before the dragons. Nanzo quietly muttered a description to Lakath, while Sharnha stared wide-eyed at the treasures. ¡°You still broke my door, so I¡¯m not giving you anything right now.¡±
?What? But I gave him information about the Brewer clan!? Sharnha growled, glaring at Celeste who had translated for Pryce.
?I already heard about that from several others,? Devotion chuffed. ¡°The only thing you said is that they might be a danger to us. That small help is hardly equal to the damage that you caused.?
¡°I¡¯ll be generous and say that¡¯s enough to settle things between us. At this point, none of us owes the other anything. Is that acceptable?¡±
?...fine,? Sharnha grumbled, eyeing the glittering glassware longingly. ?I assume you did not bring these out just to tease** me. What do I have to do for them??
**The Draconic word here specifically refers to the action of being tempted by food with no way of eating it, but there is no direct English translation.
¡°Correct. How many dragons have you spoken to in the last four days?¡±
Sharnha thought for a moment. ?Sixty-four.?
¡°How many of them did you speak about humans with?¡±
?All of them.?
¡°Alright, I¡¯ll give you one of these right now if you tell me what they think about humans.¡±
Sharnha¡¯s eyes lit up. ?No one knows enough about your kind to have a strong opinion. Most are only curious, and want to know what land humans came from. Many of them would like to know if it can be reached by wing. Only six expressed some sort of concern.?
Pryce nodded, pleasantly surprised by those numbers. ¡°Go ahead, take one.¡±
?Is this a glass cup?? Lakath asked, pointing to the correct object while Sharnha ruminated over his choices. ?May I inspect it?? She picked up the glass with permission, muttering something to Nanzo. A tap of her talons made it ring with a clear note, surprising all three of them. ?That is a very nice sound,? she said, tapping it again but at different angles, though she stopped when Celeste warned her of the object¡¯s fragility.
Pryce watched as Sharnha continued to examine each of the objects, his eyes glittering with fascination. ¡°By the way, what did you do with the handle you took? Did you tell anyone about it?¡±
?Ah,¡± Sharnha said, and suddenly looked quite guilty.
?I thought you had not told anyone,? Ghorrah said, her eyes narrowing dangerously.
?Well, you see, Ighnahr was the reason I was around in the first place, and he wanted to know what condition Huroumh-?
?Ighnahr.? Celeste growled, her teeth bared in anger. ?You told that rotten pile of scum about the ship? Who else have you told?!?
Sharnha instinctively shrank back from the younger-but-larger dragon, but then froze as he remembered that he was surrounded. ?I only showed him the handle and told him about the ship. He does not have any proof, and no one would believe him anyway, so really the fact that I told him is actually completely harmless, see?¡± he stammered.
?...He is not wrong,? Fortitude said after a tense, silent moment.
Celeste was not mollified. ?He did not bother telling us that on his own, so why should we bother trusting him??
?Is there anything else?? Devotion asked, taking a menacing step forward. ?We will not harm you¡if you tell us now.?
?N¡not that I know of?? Sharnha faltered, his eyes wide and terrified. ?Aside from Ighnahr I have not told anyone else about the handle or the ship, and I have hidden the handle somewhere that no one can find it. I¡can give it back to you, if you would like¡??
¡°No point, it¡¯s broken already,¡± Pryce sighed. ¡°Tell Sharnha I¡¯ll forgive him just this once.¡±
¡°You can¡¯t just keep forgiving him!¡± Celeste protested. ¡°What if he betrays us?!¡±
¡°He¡¯s greedy, I can see that, so that means he¡¯ll work for us if we let him. There¡¯s nothing to be gained at this point by turning him into an enemy. Besides,¡± he added, ¡°I¡¯m sure Devotion has already threatened him with violence if he betrays us.¡±
¡°I have,¡± Devotion confirmed. ¡°But I could do it again.¡±
¡°No need. Celeste, please tell him what I said. Just add that I won''t forgive him in the future.¡±
Sharnha blinked, surprised at Celeste''s reluctant translation.
?Do¡do I still get to keep one of these?? He asked.
¡°...I have one more question. Answer that and I''ll let you keep something: how many dragons would side with the Brewer clan?¡±
?That is a much harder question,¡± Sharnha said, his spines flattened. ?I may hate them, but they are undeniably useful to many others. It would depend on how persuasive you are, which,? he said, casting a glance at the glassware, ?I do not think would be a problem.?
¡°...I see. Go ahead.¡± Pryce gestured to the items. Sharnha slowly picked up the machete, then sheathed it with a look of satisfaction.
¡°Go to the Plateau and learn as much as you can. Come back and tell me what you''ve learned one day before the Solstice. Do that and I¡¯ll give you the rest of these things.¡±
Sharnha¡¯s eyes widened, and he nodded eagerly. ?Well, I best be off to the Plateau now,¡± he said, fanning out his wings in preparation for flight.
¡°Wait,¡± Pryce said, and went to retrieve one of the mirrors aboard the ship. ¡°I¡¯ll give you this mirror if you guide Callan and Qnaoro here. Unharmed,¡± he emphasized. It wasn''t that he thought Sharnha would harm her, but it wouldn''t hurt to give her another set of helping hands. Or talons.
Sharnha wordlessly stared at the mirror with wide eyes, then nodded and leapt into the skies.
¡°You forgive too easily,¡± Devotion grumbled.
¡°People appreciate kindness. I''m sure dragons are the same.¡± He hadn''t intended it, but the animosity of the other dragons had inadvertently emphasized his own mercy. Of course it was entirely possible for Sharnha to see him as a pushover instead. He''d just have to put his foot down if the time came.
Pryce turned to Lakath and Nanzo. ¡°Now, what are you two going to do?¡±
?We were going to the Plateau to learn about the human,? Nanzo said, ?but that is obviously no longer necessary. I suppose we should find a place to rest until the Solstice.?
?Yes, but we can do that later,¡± Lakath said, ¡°The day is not over yet, and I still have many questions.?
Pryce chuckled. ¡°Of course. I didn¡¯t expect anything else, but if we¡¯re going to talk then I have to confess that I can''t pronounce your names very well. Would you prefer that I try anyway, or that I give you new names?¡±
Lakath cocked her head. ?Ah. Yes, Ahnoumh has told me of this. Are you sure you cannot say ¡®La-kath¡¯ and ¡®Nan-zo¡¯? No? Then what name would you give me??
¡°¡®Sonar¡¯ is what Humans call seeing with sound, would you like that as a name?¡± The word was actually an acronym for ¡®Sound Navigation And Ranging¡¯, but it seemed fitting.
Lakath mulled it over for a few moments, but tossed her head. ?Sonar¡I do not like the sound of this word,? she said.
¡°Alright¡how about Echo? An echo is what you hear when a sound bounces back to you.¡±
?Echo¡? Lakath said, testing the word. ?I like this word. You may call me Echo. What about you, Nanzo? Do you want a new name??
?...I suppose it cannot be helped,¡± Nanzo sighed. ?What do you want to call me??
?He says he wants to call you ¡®Polaris¡¯,? Celeste said, translating for Pryce. ?It symbolizes guidance, protection, and-?
?No.?
?¡what??
?Do not call me that,? Nanzo said, almost growling. Behind him, Lakath looked at him with unmistakable sorrow in her scarred eyes. A moment passed, and Nanzo sagged almost imperceptibly. ?Just¡call me Nanzo.?
¡°...Understood,¡± Pryce said. Clearly there was something personal there, and he had no intention to pry. Turning to Lakath he said, ¡°Now, you said you had some questions?¡±
[JOURNAL ENTRY]
Day 98,
Sharnha is¡a strange one. Perhaps being surrounded made him especially nervous, but he appears to lose his composure rather easily. Still, I believe he can be trusted to serve his own interests. If not¡we¡¯ll handle things if it comes to that.
Lakath is quite an interesting individual. It must have taken a long time to be as proficient at using sonar as she is. She and Nanzo both were quite friendly, though I wonder why he rejected the name I suggested for him.
Kharno¡she¡¯s our last chance to find Callan before the Solstice, and she¡¯s expected to return tomorrow at the earliest. If she¡¯s too late then she¡¯ll try to bring the twins back with her, but if she¡¯s too early then she¡¯d have to wait for Callan and Aurum to show up.
I¡¯ve done all I can to prepare. All that is left is the wait.
Pryce set down his journal, wondering if he missed anything. Nothing came to mind, so he looked up to see if Fathom had returned yet, only to see a dragon flying in from the wrong direction.
¡°Celeste, who¡¯s that?¡± Pryce asked warily.
¡°Hmm? Oh, Nanzo is coming back,¡± Celestes said, mildly surprised. Fortitude and Devotion roused at the commotion, but laid back down when they realized who it was. Minutes later the pale yellow dragon landed gracefully upon the deck, his eyes fixated on Pryce.
?Hello, Pryce,¡± he rumbled, but then paused and looked as if he didn¡¯t know what to say. ?I have a question I would like to ask you in private.?
?How are you going to talk to him if you cannot understand his speech?¡± Celeste asked, watching him warily.
?It is a simple question. He only needs to nod if the answer is yes.?
?I am still not leaving,? Celeste said stubbornly. ?If you are worried about me telling anyone else, then I promise not to do that.?
?...very well,? Nanzo sighed, then visibly gathered himself to ask, ?Can you fix her eyes??
¡®She¡¯ needed no antecedent.
¡°No. I am afraid I cannot,¡± Pryce said regretfully.
Nanzo wilted, in a way that Pryce had never seen a dragon do before. ?I see,¡± he rasped, and turned away to leave.
¡°Wait.¡±
Celeste looked down at Pryce, who considered his next words very carefully. ¡°Human medicine is always improving. A deadly illness ten years ago is a minor inconvenience today. We don¡¯t have any way to fix eyes that have been damaged like Lakath¡¯s, but that won¡¯t always be the case. Maybe it¡¯ll be fifty years from now, or a hundred, but I¡¯m confident that one day it will be possible for her to see again.¡± He gave a sad smile. ¡°I¡¯d probably be dead by then though. Humans don¡¯t live that long compared to dragons.¡±
?...a hundred years, was it?¡± Nanzo asked, glancing back at the island. ?That is a long time, but¡at least now I finally have a path forward.? The male bowed deeply, his eyes shining with emotion. ?Thank you. Truly.?
He left without another word, leaving Pryce and Celeste to watch as he flew back to the island, his vibrant yellow hide standing out against the pale blue sky.
Kharno was no stranger to long trips, and the flight from the ship to the Twins was not a particularly long journey, as flights went, but it was definitely a restless one. She¡¯d flown as fast as she could, leaving at sunrise, dropping by the Plateau in case the Twins had left their homes, and finally reaching the end of her journey at sunset.
She took in a deep breath, filling her up her air lungs to their full and considerable capacity to roar out her greeting. It was quickly returned, and she followed the sound to its source. Two dragons sat outside one of many cave entrances that formed a network of underground tunnels. Even before she landed the scent of smoked meat was thick in the air ¨C evidence of preparations they had made for the Solstice.
?Kharno,? the twins said in unison, their heads inclined in greeting.
?Hello, Yantha, Karoth,? Kharno said, and returned the gesture. ?Has Qnaoro arrived yet??
She had spent her long flight pondering how to go about asking the twins without giving herself away, but any attempt would have quickly turned into a series of vague questions to determine how much the other knew.
In the end she decided that this simple question was the best approach, as one of the two would likely give away something in their surprise. In the worst case she could simply leave. Neither of the twins were foolish enough to try and stop her by force ¨C they might succeed, but not without receiving grave injuries mere days before the Solstice.
?What?? Yantha exclaimed, the smaller but elder twin appearing to be genuinely surprised. ?Why would he be here? Did something else happen??
Kharno noticed that he had not asked ¡°where¡± Qnaoro was, as one might expect if this truly were a surprise. She tilted her head, scrutinizing Yantha. He was tense, confused, and¡wary? She glanced at Karoth, the larger but younger twin, who merely remained silent with a contemplative look in his eyes.
?Ah, so he has not,? Kharno sighed, her wings slumping in disappointment as she turned to leave.
?Wait,? Karoth rumbled. Slowly and deliberately, he said, ?Qnaoro is no longer here.?
?Karoth!? the smaller twin hissed, tail lashing in agitation. ?We promised not to tell anyone anything about that!?
?That did not break our promise,¡± the larger twin pointed out. ¡°She also knows something about Qnaoro, and by extension the human. It would be foolish not to learn what she knows.? Karoth paused, then added, ?In fact, you are the one who told her that we made a promise at all.?
Kharno knew that Karoth was the more reasonable of the twins, so she was quite certain that he would arrive at this very conclusion. He also stood to benefit regardless of whether or not they were on the same side, and ¨C like most dragons ¨C could be trusted to side with his own interests.
Still, her satisfaction at having guessed correctly was rather dampened by the fact that she had indeed been too late to find Qnaoro.
?I assume you two have made a promise to Qnaoro?? she asked, interrupting the bickering dragons.
?We cannot say,? Yantha said stiffly while glaring pointedly at Karoth.
?Well, I guess that means I can trust you,? Kharno said, sitting down and making herself comfortable.
There was a chance that this had all been a ruse to make her surrender her information ¨C they were certainly cunning enough for that ¨C but Kharno had centuries of experience in talking to others. Word choice, cadence, posture, the minute details of body language; she unconsciously took in all these details, and over the years she had developed an excellent sense for what was true and what was not.
Of course scent could also be used to infer the emotions felt by another, but it was incredibly rude to go sniffing at others for any reason. Besides, Kharno was quite confident that the interaction between them had been far too natural for it to have been a piece of artifice, and she highly doubted that the two of them had prepared for her unexpected line of questioning.
?First, make me a promise of confidentiality,? Kharno said, her jaws parting in a grin. ¡°Then I can tell you what you want to know, and tomorrow I can show you something very, very, interesting.?
Chapter 61, Day 99: Chirality
Helsha sat within his grotto, gazing upon the freshly-planted seeds with a satisfied air.
The herbalist himself rarely ever left his territory, of course, but it wasn¡¯t the first time he¡¯d obtained seeds from distant places; that was how he first met Qnaoro, with the then-green dragon brazenly dropping into his home. Helsha had prepared for a fight, but instead of making any demands the self-proclaimed explorer had merely offered him the seeds of a few interesting plants ¨C none of which Helsha had ever seen.
Nothing particularly notable happened to the first few batches, but the problem started with a plant that sprouted a rather pretty stalk of purple flowers. At first Helsha had been pleased by the rapid growth of the sproutlings, but things quickly grew out of control.
In a year the persistent plants had popped up throughout his territory despite his best efforts to exterminate them, and in the following years they¡¯d choked out several species of plants, including his beloved starwhite flowers, which could scarcely be found to begin with.
Plants competed against each other just as animals did, even if they appeared to exist in relative peace. This was one of the first lessons that Helsha had learned when he began studying plants, but he had never seen a species dominate others so thoroughly. Too late, Helsha realized that the plants he was familiar with had never learned how to compete against the purple stalks.
In the end, he had no one to blame but himself for the debacle, and Helsha swore to never let such a thing happen again. It was a difficult promise to keep, but this cave made it possible. It wasn¡¯t particularly useful to most dragons thanks to the gaping hole in the ceiling, but this very opening was what allowed sunlight into the cave, allowing Helsha to ensure that whatever he planted could only survive in this sunlit area.
The chamber was good, but Helsha wasn¡¯t satisfied. Over the decades he had made various incremental improvements to this test cave of his. Widening the hole was a trivial task, but modifying the cave such that the air always moved out the side entrance took weeks of trial and error.
It was a lot of work, but it had paid off; the grotto had done its job flawlessly for the last eight decades. Not a single specimen had escaped this setup¡at least, not a single plant. Mushrooms still remained infuriatingly unstoppable. A long series of tests he had done in his youth had shown that many plants could sprout into multiple ¡®bodies¡¯ that all shared one cluster of roots, so he had assumed that mushrooms were the same ¨C that was, until he found a single mushroom sprouting proudly from an old and damp piece of wood, one that had been sitting on solid stone for the last few years.
Further painstaking tests conducted over months and then years all had shown the same results. Not only was it impossible to determine how they reproduced, but the resilient organisms seemed to be able to grow anywhere and feed off of anything that had once been alive.
With no options left he tried one last test ¨C a ridiculous test that assumed the ¡°pollen¡± that mushrooms produced were actually tiny seeds.
And it had worked, bafflingly enough. Little redgill mushrooms had sprouted up in his test beds over the course of months, while the empty ones grew nothing but random species.
He had finally figured out how mushrooms made more mushrooms, but the result was nothing but aggravating ¨C how was he supposed to breed them if they produced seeds on their own, without need for pollination like plants?
In the end all he could do was to simply ¡®seed¡¯ new beds with the largest mushroom from the last batch, but even a hundred years of this practice had no apparent effect on the size of his crops. He suspected contamination was to blame, but there was no way for him to address that.
A bird fluttered into the cave, which he quickly shooed away. Helsha realized that these human fruits would surely be enticing to all sorts of critters, who in turn might inadvertently spread the seeds of those fruits. He usually didn''t have to worry about that, seeing as most of his test subjects were flowers that bore no fruit. It was something he''d have to take into account later, he supposed, though he wasn''t sure how he''d seal off the cave without blocking off all the sunlight.
With that problem on his mind Helsha turned and left through the long mouth of the cave. He had spent most of yesterday planting these new seeds, and the rest of it was spent gathering goods to trade with the human. Helsha leapt into the skies and flew on home, ruminating over the strange creature as he ascended. The herbalist had asked Pryce how he was able to use mushrooms to make medicine, but the strange creature had claimed that it was ¡®complicated¡¯.
Under most circumstances Helsha would have assumed that this was just a lie to keep his secrets for himself, but the herbalist had seen the strange nature of mushrooms himself; perhaps it should not be surprising that the subject was too complex to discuss through an intermediary ¨C at least, not without great difficulty.
He shook these idle musings aside as he prepared to land ¨C not on the ground, but on the great, towering mass of wood that was his greatest creation.
Thirty great trees stood proudly in a circle, each trunk spiraling upwards along with its neighbor as they reached for the heavens, and within them were another twenty that spiraled in the opposite direction. It might have had the appearance of many trees growing together, but it was actually one singular enormous living entity.
The tree was quite literally built upon his discovery that a single plant could have multiple bodies. Tests involving great trees required far more patience, taking years to confirm that the colossal organisms shared this self-copying trait, and taking years more to take advantage of it, but it had all been worth it to create this grand specimen before him. The trees themselves were only a little under three centuries old, so they weren''t quite comparable to the many thousand-year old behemoths scattered across the land, but enough time had passed that the branches he had ¡®woven¡¯ over the centuries had grown into strong, durable platforms that could easily take his weight.
Helsha landed on one such platform and plucked a few sunberries. They weren''t grown by the tree itself, but by vines that grew upon the exterior of the tree ¨C usually at higher altitudes. He wasn''t sure why this was the case, but he suspected it had to do with avoiding certain pests close to the ground.
His task complete, he took a moment to scan his surroundings. Several trees, failed versions of the one he perched upon dotted the landscape, their bushy and unkempt appearance a result of his inexperience at the time. Far to the north, another dragon could be seen flying past his territory; he ignored them.
Satisfied that no one was around, he leapt off the tree and glided home. The tree actually made a rather nice place to nap ¨C so long as it wasn''t raining ¨C but it wasn''t his home.
That was the sprawling network of caves he used to store his countless things and run his endless tests. Right by the entrance were the ¡®bags¡¯ that Pryce had given him, though they were far lighter and stronger than any he had seen before. Apparently they were made of plant fibers, though he couldn''t imagine what the humans had done to get them to look like that. His only complaint was that the bags were a bit small, but they were more than large enough to contain his prospective items of trade.
It was strange that the human gave away these bags for nothing in return. It left Helsha feeling unpleasantly indebted, even if more efficient trading did benefit the both of them. He decided that he¡¯d just have to give the bags back when they were done, or trade something else for them.
Helsha spent some time gathering his supplies, preparing for his return to the ship. He glanced at the pile of bags, most of which were filled with various samples. He was about done, so there was just one thing left to do.
He gathered his bags, looping them around his wing-thumbs before heading out to his last destination. Only a few days were left until the solstice, and there was a chance that he might not be able to return home until things had been settled.
Soon afterwards Helsha arrived at the base of a great tree. He set his bags down upon the ground and sat before the great trunk, just as he had done countless times throughout the ages. The trunk was wide enough that he could no longer wrap his arms around it like he used to, but it paled in comparison to the behemoths that could be found a short flight away.
It was, by all respects, unremarkable, save for the ugly lumpen, crisscrossing lines that scarred the lower trunk. It was far from the largest, or the most beautiful, but for ages it had been the closest thing he had to-
?I¡¯m back, Helsha.?
The unexpected greeting startled the herbalist, but he relaxed as he recognized the voice''s owner.
?Qnaoro,? Helsha huffed, turning to meet his old acquaintance. Not announcing one¡¯s arrival was normally an incredibly rude thing to do, but it was understandable, considering the circumstances.
?Sorry,? Qnaoro said, dipping his head apologetically. The yellow dragon stood under a strand of trees, and at the base of his neck sat Jane Callan. The human female was still wrapped in sturdy vines that kept her safely upon his back, though they must have traveled the last bit of distance on foot to avoid detection.
?I was hoping that you would return.? Helsha supposed this meant that Kharno had been too late, but at least things worked out in the end. ?Did you meet with any¡difficulty??
?We met a bit of turbulence here and there,? Qnaoro said, sitting down to let Jane slide off his neck, ?but all seven agreed to ally with us, so I¡¯ll consider it a success for now.?
Helsha glanced down at Jane, who stumbled around in an odd gait. Apparently sitting on someone''s neck was uncomfortable for her. The human appeared to be in good health, if a bit thin and ragged compared to Pryce. Her clothes and long brown hair were in an especially sorry state, but her brown eyes were still wide and bright with vigor.
¡or perhaps that was surprise, judging by her gaping mouth.
?Is something wrong?? Qnaoro asked, glancing back at Callan. ?You are very quiet, La-? He followed her line of sight and froze.
Helsha sighed. Pryce had asked Kharno to gently break the news if they found Callan, but it seemed that this was no longer an option.
?You found the other humans?? Qnaoro breathed in realization, his face indignant with surprise.
¡°Where did you get those?¡± Jane demanded, the human stumbling towards the bags on the ground.
?Yes, but¡? Helsha suddenly began to regret the fact that he hadn¡¯t prepared for this at all. The times in which he had ever comforted someone could be counted on a single hand ¨C how was he supposed to tell someone that all of their allies and friends were dead? ?...All of the other humans from your ship are dead, except for the one named Pryce.?
He immediately regretted his straightforwardness, though he wasn''t sure what else he could have said. Callan staggered beneath the weight of his words even before receiving a translation. ¡°...He said they¡¯re all dead except Pryce, didn¡¯t he?¡± she asked, kneeling down to touch the closest bag, as if to convince herself that it was real.
Qnaoro casted an uncertain eye at Helsha, though the herbalist had not the faintest idea of what to say. ?...yes,? the yellow dragon nodded.
The human took in a deep, long breath.
And slowly exhaled.
¡°I knew something was wrong, but¡fucking hell. I didn¡¯t¡I didn¡¯t think it would¡¡± she made an odd, choking noise.
Helsha shot Qnaoro a questioning look, but judging by the look on his face the yellow dragon hadn¡¯t fully understood what she said either. The explorer appeared torn on what to do, and seemed to settle for gently nosing Jane¡¯s shoulder in a comforting manner.
She took in a shuddering breath, patting Qnaoro¡¯s muzzle in thanks before standing back up.
¡°Tell me everything. How''s Pryce? Is he alright?¡±
?Pryce is healthy,? Helsha said, replying to Qnaoro¡¯s translation. ?When I last saw him he was allied with Huroumh, Ahnoumh, Ghorrah, and Jooral. Two days ago they asked that I be their ally, not knowing that I already met you. They brought me to the ship and we traded some things. I let them know that I met you, but my promise of confidentiality made things difficult. I only know that the rest of the humans died of the sickness you described, and that more humans will be arriving on a second ship tomorrow.? Helsha picked up his bags, looping each one around his talons.
¡°Wait, tomorrow?!¡± Jane shot up. ¡°Where-¡±
?I know where they are. Follow me.?
Qnaoro sat down and translated for Jane as she scrambled back up his neck. It didn¡¯t take long, as the two dragons soon sat in silence as they waited for the human to finish securing herself in place. ?So¡? Qnaoro said, glancing up at the great tree. ?Do you know who found this ¡®Pryce¡¯? And how long ago??
Helsha blinked, bemused by the uncharacteristically apprehensive question. ?That was Huroumh. Why do you ask??
?No reason,? Qnaoro shrugged, though Helsha sensed that wasn¡¯t the entire truth. ?You know, you still haven¡¯t told me what''s so special about this tree,? he said, shifting to another subject.
Helsha frowned, but his gaze softened after a moment¡¯s consideration. ?...It is nothing you would find interesting,? he said.
?Still not going to tell me, huh?? Qnaoro said, chuffing in mild annoyance. ?You know that just makes me more curious, right??
Helsha snorted in amusement, allowing his lip to twitch upwards in a rare smirk. ?Of course, that''s half the fun.?
?You-?
¡°Ready,¡± Jane said, interrupting Qnaoro.
?...I guess we''ll have to continue this in the air,? Qnaoro huffed.
?No,? Helsha said, before the yellow dragon could launch himself into the sky. ?I''ll fly on ahead, that way I can warn you if anyone approaches. You stay low to the ground and be ready to hide?
?Oh,? Qnaoro blinked. ?Good idea. Lead the way, then.?
Fathom tore through his blue lizard, satiating his post-patrol hunger. His coloration had returned to the usual deep blue color some time ago, but tomorrow was the day that the other humans were expected to arrive, and first impressions were important, after all.
It was getting late, Fathom noted, the sky turning yellow as the day drew closer to an end. If he''d gone hunting any later there wouldn''t be much UV left in the sky, which would have been a minor inconvenience.
Fathom scanned the skies, wondering if Celeste had finished her patrol yet. His daughter seemed somewhat agitated these past few days, though he couldn''t say that he blamed her.
Day-long patrols were boring.
He glanced to the west, and noticed a dragon in the distance, flying a fair bit higher than normal. Fathom squinted, and was fairly certain that the dragon was Helsha ¨C or, Xylem, as Pryce called him. The elder did have a distinctive appearance; few dragons his age were green, to say nothing of his unique markings. The herbalist had probably returned to trade, though Fathom wasn''t sure why he came so late in the day. Still, it was a pleasant surprise, and he looked forward to seeing what the herbalist had brought with him today.
He launched himself into the sky and was startled to see a yellow dragon flying beneath Xylem, so far down that they nearly brushed the treetops with each wingbeat. Fathom immediately narrowed his vision and saw the stranger had something around his neck, confirming his suspicion ¨C that was Aurum and Callan!
The dragon in question had slowed upon seeing Fathom, but continued forward as Xylem himself began to dive to his level. A short exchange seemed to pass between the two, and together they angled straight towards him.
A few minutes later they drew close enough that Fathom felt comfortable descending upon a nearby clearing ¨C aerial conversations were terribly awkward, especially if you wanted to talk about something important.
Soon Xylem descended, with Aurum right behind him.
?You found them,? Fathom said to Xylem.
?I did,? Xylem nodded. ?They¡¯d planned to go to the twins last, which was why I suggested that one of you go to them, but they¡¯d also planned to return to my territory to rest, if time permitted it.?
Fathom looked up to watch Aurum as he landed. The yellow dragon had vines wrapped around his neck, securing Callan upon his back.
Fathom wasn''t sure what human females were supposed to look like. Pryce had only mentioned that they were a bit smaller than human males, and tended to have longer hair.
Both facts were true for Callan, whose hair was tied back in an odd way that vaguely resembled a tail, but Fathom felt that her limbs were unhealthily thin and stick-like, and her soft human lips appeared to be dried and cracked from flying. Long clothes covered the rest of her body, preventing Fathom from discerning much else about her health, though the sleeves of her shirt appeared to be intentionally torn ¨C Fathom eyed the rest of the vines, and noticed a wooden plate dangling along Aurum¡¯s side; the incremental markings told him that it must have been the sextant that Callan had crafted.
All in all, the human seemed like she had seen better days, but she was alive and alert. Her brown eyes ¨C a shade darker than Pryce''s own brown eyes ¨C stared brightly up at Fathom.
¡°Hello, ¡®Aurum¡¯, Callan,¡± Fathom said, nodding his head in greeting. ¡°It is good to finally meet you,¡± he added to the human.
¡°Good to meet you too,¡± Callan said, before Aurum could reply. ¡°Fathom, right? How is Pryce? Is he alright?¡±
¡°He is well, but¡¡± Fathom trailed off, glancing between Helsha and Callan. ¡°Did Xylem tell you about the rest of the crew?¡±
¡°...so it''s true then,¡± Callan sighed, her lips pressed into a tight grimace. ¡°Yes, Xylem told me, but it still hasn''t quite¡sunk in ¨C it doesn''t feel real yet.¡±
¡°...yes,¡± Fathom rumbled, after a moment''s thought. ¡°You must have only learned about the crew recently. Will you be alright?¡±
¡°I''ll¡manage,¡± Callan said, not quite meeting his eyes. ¡°I''ll have to. But thank you for asking.¡± She paused, glancing eastward to the ocean, though the ship sat beyond the horizon at this distance.
¡°How many days ago did you find Pryce?¡± Aurum asked. His question was completely innocent, but there was something off about the other dragon that bothered Fathom, something that he couldn''t quite put his talon on.
¡°The human ship landed seventy-nine days ago,¡± Fathom replied tersely. ¡°I watched Pryce for seven days before meeting him properly.¡±
¡°Seven days?¡± Aurum asked, drawing his head back in surprise. ¡°Why did you wait so long?¡±
¡°This was before I got to know him,¡± Fathom shrugged. ¡°I wanted to see what he would do on his own. He wouldn''t act normally if I was standing right in front of him.¡±
¡°...I see,¡± Aurum rumbled, looking very obviously distracted.
¡°Well, let''s get going,¡± Callan said before Fathom could remark on Aurum''s odd behavior. ¡°I¡¯d like to talk to Pryce while we still have daylight, and the Horizon must be pretty far out if I can¡¯t see it from here.¡±
¡°Wait,¡± Fathom said, then paused, as he reconsidered his course of action. Callan seemed reasonable enough, but he figured it was better to be safe than sorry, as Pyrce would say. ¡°Pryce feels guilt over what happened. He thinks that he has failed the crew, including you.¡±
¡°Guilty?¡± Callan asked, frowning. ¡°Why? He was sick, wasn''t he?¡±
¡°He was, but he told me that he has responsibilities as a doctor. Responsibilities that he has failed.¡±
¡°Ah, right,¡± Callan said, her expression morphing into one of understanding. ¡°Yeah¡I can see why he''d feel that way.¡±
¡°Good,¡± Fathom nodded. ¡°You are human ¨C someone who has been alone, like he has. You can understand him, and you can help him, but you could also hurt him.¡±
Callan blinked, and looked rather taken aback. ¡°I''m sorry, I haven''t had such an articulate conversation in months. What exactly are you trying to say?¡±
¡°I''m telling you to be careful.¡± Fathom lowered his head, leveling with her eyes. ¡°And I am asking you not to hurt my friend.¡±
¡°...Oh,¡± Callan said, an odd expression on her face. ¡°I understand. I''ll be careful.¡±
¡°Good,¡± Fathom nodded, glad that things had gone well ¨C it would have been very awkward if he had to coerce her into being nice.
¡°Glad that''s settled,¡± Callan smiled. ¡°Oh, I almost forgot to ask, is that a radio on your head?¡±
Fathom blinked ¨C he¡¯d forgotten the device was still attached to his head. ¡°Yes, my daughter and I have been patrolling along the coast in case the rescue ship lands too far north or south.¡±
¡°Hmm, clever.¡±
Fathom shrugged. ¡°Yes. It is boring work, but it must be done. Now, any more questions? No? Then let¡¯s get you back to the ship.¡±
¡°I have a question,¡± Pryce said, looking up from his notebook. ¡°Yesterday, how did you get Sharnha to follow you here?¡±
¡°I lied,¡± Devotion said blithely.
¡°I thought so, but I thought dragons didn''t like lying?¡±
¡°You can expect others to lie. I''ve told you this,¡± Fortitude huffed.
¡°I see,¡± Pryce said, furrowing his brow. ¡°So what are the situations where it''s okay to lie? Or does it depend on the person you''re lying to?¡±
Devotion frowned and scratched her chin in thought. ¡°This is obvious, but hard to explain¡¡±
¡°It is an interesting question,¡± Fortitude chimed in, a thoughtful look in her eyes. ¡°I have a feeling of what one should or should not lie about, but I have never had to explain it before.¡±
¡°One must not lie about promises,¡± Devotion said sternly.
¡°But it is okay to lie about things,¡± Fortitude added.
¡°So no lying about what you''re going to do in the future, right?¡± Both dragons nodded. ¡°What about¡lying about the things that you''ve done in the past?¡±
Fortitude tilted her head as she mulled this over. ¡°That''s¡bad, but not very bad, and not nearly as bad as lying about what you plan to do.¡±
¡°So couldn''t you just ask someone to promise to tell the truth?¡±
Fortitude chuffed at this, as if he had asked something very silly. ¡°That would be rude, unless you are offering something in return; if you ask someone to make a promise then it should be because you are offering something in return.¡±
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
¡°Like a trade,¡± Pryce said, noting this down for later.
¡°Is it different for humans?¡± Devotion asked, sounding suspicious.
¡°It is,¡± Pryce nodded, then paused as he considered how to continue. ¡°Most kinds of lies are considered bad, unless you are lying to help someone else. People will generally try to keep their promise, but you shouldn''t fully trust someone you just met just because they made you a promise.¡±
¡°Sounds complicated,¡± Fortitude chuffed. ¡°And what about-¡±
¡°There are dragons coming towards us,¡± Devotion interrupted. ¡°Two dragons. Fathom and Xylem.
¡°Oh, good,¡± Pryce said, pocketing his notebook as he stood up. ¡°I''ll make some coffee tea for him to try.¡±
¡°Wait,¡± Devotion said, her eyes narrowing. ¡°There is a third dragon behind them. I believe that is ¡®Aurum¡¯ with Callan on his neck.¡±
¡°What?!¡± Pryce exclaimed, then scrambled for his binoculars, ¡°are you sure?¡±
¡°Must be. No one wears anything like that,¡± Devotion said, squinting at the dot in the sky. ¡°Helsha is clever. I am not surprised if he had a plan.¡±
Pryce brought up his binoculars and saw that there was indeed what appeared to be rope around Aurum¡¯s chest and neck. The tense, interminable passage of a minute brought the dragons closer, revealing a blurred but distinct figure wrapped around the golden dragon¡¯s neck.
¡°That''s her,¡± Pryce said, setting down the binoculars. Now there was nothing to do but to wait, and when she landed¡well, he was sure that Callan knew the fate of the crew by now, but the two of them would still need to have a long and difficult conversation.
¡°I wonder how he found them,¡± Fortitude said, a slight frown in her eyes. ¡°But I suppose it does not matter. At least Xylem will have already told her about the other humans.¡±
¡°I should have been the one to tell her that,¡± Pryce sighed. ¡°But it can''t be helped. I''ll be right back, I have to prepare a few things.¡±
Pryce watched as Fathom landed gracefully upon the deck. ¡°Xylem found Callan,¡± he said, shifting to the side to give the others room to land. ¡°I saw them flying towards the ship when I finished hunting. Is Celeste still not back?¡± he asked, glancing around.
¡°I haven¡¯t seen her since she left this morning. She must still be patrolling or hunting,¡± Pryce said absently, shielding his eyes as he was buffeted by Xylem, who was next to land. ¡°Please tell Xylem I said thank you, and I¡¯ll definitely repay him for his help.¡±
?I didn¡¯t do much,? Xylem confessed. ?All I did was wait for them to return.? He paused to hold up a partially unfolded wing, blocking the gusts generated by Aurum¡¯s landing. ?If you should thank anyone it should be Qnaoro; he is the one who saved her.?
The golden dragon gently set himself down onto the deck of the ship as Xylem spoke, a ragged but familiar woman sitting on the base of his neck.
¡°Callan¡¡± Pryce said, abruptly forgetting everything he had planned to say. The geologist had changed in the time since they''d last seen each other ¨C the sleeves of her shirt were greatly torn and frayed from what seemed to be deliberate damage, and her skin was greatly tanned by her time in the wilderness. On her face, sharp cheekbones and sunken eyes spoke of hardships suffered in the wilderness. Still, she appeared to be alert and relatively healthy, her eyes darting from dragon to dragon before locking onto the sole other human aboard the ship. ¡°...You''re alive,¡± Pryce managed.
Callan untied the last bit of vine and slid off Aurum¡¯s neck, stumbling a bit as she landed. ¡°Pryce,¡± she replied, sounding equal parts relieved and strained at the same time. She glanced around, her gaze wandering across the deck and taking in the state of the ship.
¡°The crew-¡± Pryce began.
¡°I know,¡± Callan said. She paused, and glanced around the deck. For a moment no one spoke, not even the dragons, though the lapping waves cared not for the severity of the moment. ¡°God fucking dammit,¡± she swore, and Pryce recalled how unsettling it had been to see the once-bustling ship so devoid of human life. ¡°...where''d you bury them?¡± she asked, after a moment.
Pryce clasped his hands behind his back, bracing himself. ¡°I didn¡¯t. I wasn''t able to dig a grave big enough for all of them. I had to¡give them a burial at sea.¡±
Callan¡¯s eyes widened. She stepped forward, Pryce tensed-
But she only pulled him into a tight embrace.
¡°I had to¡make a grave for Edward,¡± Callan rasped into his chest. ¡°It was shallow. Too shallow. Shit, I can¡¯t imagine what it was like, having to bury everyone like that.¡±
Pryce had never been a very physically affectionate sort of person, but it had been months since he had last interacted with another human being, and now he found himself completely unprepared for the effect that such a simple gesture had on him. He stood, frozen by uncertainty, but a tremble through her frame made his decision.
Pryce lifted his arms and woodenly returned the hug, for her sake if not for his. ¡°I should be the one saying that,¡± he said, once he had regained the ability to speak. ¡°You¡it¡¯s a miracle that you¡¯re even alive.¡±
¡°True, but I''m sure the same could be said for you,¡± Callan said, half-smiling as she broke off from the hug. ¡°The island that the whale left me on wasn''t very large, so there wasn''t really anything around that could hurt me. I just had to worry about shelter, food, and water¡though I did have to eat raw crabs for the first few days,¡± she admitted, shuddering as she wrapped her arms around herself. ¡°It took a lot longer than I¡¯d like to admit to get a fire going ¨C damn near everything on that island was damp and soggy ¨C but I managed. Nothing notable really happened until Aurum over here dropped out of the sky,¡± she said, gesturing a thumb towards her companion.
¡°Hello,¡± Aurum said, turning away from his inspection of the ship, his bright blue eyes blinking curiously at Pryce.
¡°How did you find her?¡± Fathom asked, ¡°You did not mention that in your message,¡± he said to Callan.
Aurum shrugged. ¡°The birds told me.¡±
¡°That¡wasn¡¯t literal, right?¡± Pryce asked.
¡°Oh no,¡± Callan said, waving a hand dismissively. ¡°Apparently my arrival caused some birds to fly to other islands, ones they normally don¡¯t inhabit. Aurum noticed their odd behavior and eventually tracked me down.¡±
¡°You were not lying about this ship, Laishaka,¡± Aurum said, tossing his head. ¡°I cannot understand how humans can make something so big.¡±
¡°Laishaka?¡± Pryce asked, glancing between them, ¡°doesn''t that mean-¡±
Callan snorted. ¡°¡®Little hunter¡¯, yes. He gave me that name and kept using it even after I told him to call me Jane.¡±
¡°Not my fault humans cannot speak properly,¡± Aurum chuffed.
¡°Huh,¡± Pryce said, sharing a look with Fathom. ¡°Fathom did the same thing, except he called me¡Gharrum, I think?¡±
¡°Oh. Yes,¡± Fathom said, looking mildly surprised. ¡°It means¡¡± He paused, frowning. ¡°Hmm¡it''s easier to just show you. Go to the cargo hold, open box number three, and bring back three of the round rocks in the left corner of the side closest to you.¡±
Pryce raised an eyebrow. ¡°You named me after round rocks?¡±
¡°Just get the rocks,¡± Fathom said, rolling his eyes.
Pryce was back a minute later, three of the rocks cradled in his arms. The objects weren''t very large, with Pryce able to palm one in each hand while he tucked a third under his armpit. They were far lighter than their size suggested, so they were surely hollow.
¡°...It is strange that human females are smaller than males.¡± Devotion¡¯s voice rang through the ship as Pryce climbed back up the stairs. Callan''s reply was faint and inaudible from within the ship, though the muted noise sounded faintly indignant to his ears.
¡°I know that some animals have females that are smaller than males, but that never made much sense to me,¡± Fortitude said. ¡°That reminds me, why are there round things on your chest?¡±
¡°Ah. Well, those are-¡±
¡°I''m back,¡± Pryce said, a little louder than necessary. ¡°Why did you want me to get three of them?¡±
¡°Give me the biggest one,¡± Fathom said, ignoring his question. The dragon plucked the largest stone out of Pryce¡¯s hands, then cracked it open against the edge of the bulwark, the hollow stone splitting straight down the middle. ¡°Good, I don''t need the other two,¡± he said, sounding quite pleased as he returned the freshly halved pieces back to Pryce, who stared at the offering in wonder ¨C somehow glittering amethyst crystals lined the interior of the hollow rock, despite the solid and unremarkable exterior.
¡°Oh wow, a geode!¡± Callan exclaimed, rushing over to get a closer look.
¡°Gharrum literally means ¡®crystal egg¡¯,¡± Fathom explained. ¡°They are symbolic of something that is not as it appears,¡± he said, handing the geode over at Callan¡¯s insistent gesturing. ¡°It usually refers to someone who seems boring or ordinary, but has a hidden talent or quality.¡±
¡°Oh. Thank you?¡± Pryce said, pleasantly surprised. He hadn''t thought about the nickname at all since Fathom had started using his real name, but he had always assumed it was some kind of insult.
¡°I considered it,¡± Fathom admitted when Pryce awkwardly said as much. ¡°My first idea was Calrum, which means ¡®pearl egg¡¯ and refers to oysters. Oysters have a similar meaning to geodes, but¡they''re gross.¡±
¡°Well, it''s a flattering name, but I think I''m mostly glad you didn''t call me an oyster,¡± Pryce chuckled. He glanced at Callan, who was still inspecting the hollow rock.
¡°...It''s a damn good one too,¡± she said, almost muttering to herself. ¡°This is one of nicest specimens I''ve ever seen, and one of the biggest too!¡±
¡°It is?¡± Fathom asked, tilting his head. ¡°This one is good, but it''s very small. I''ve seen ones that are much larger than a human,¡± he said, gesturing the size of a round object about two meters in diameter.
¡°Where?¡± Callan demanded. ¡°Do you have any? When can I see one?¡±
¡°That''ll have to wait,¡± Pryce said, stifling a laugh at Fathom¡¯s bemused expression. ¡°I''ve never heard of a geode before, are they rare?¡±
¡°Oh yes,¡± Callan said, nodding without taking her eyes off the crystals. ¡°Most geodes are small and not very pretty, so they''re not particularly valuable to anyone other than collectors and geologists. The general consensus is that they''re formed when volcanic activity creates pockets of air, and over thousands and millions of years the surrounding groundwater deposits minerals inside the air pocket, forming a geode ¨C the process must be a lot more common here if geodes can grow so large.¡±
Fathom cocked his head. ¡°How does groundwater make crystals? Groundwater is water.¡±
Callan looked up in surprise. ¡°Oh, that''s a bit complicated, but I''m more surprised that you followed that,¡± Callan said, then turned to Pryce. ¡°Come to think of it, he''s awfully articulate. What, did you read him a dictionary or something?¡±
¡°Well¡yes.¡±
Callan stared in disbelief before snorting in amusement. ¡°Of course you''d do that.¡± She paused, then smiled sadly. ¡°I can''t tell you how nice it is to talk normally again. I just wish-¡±
¡°It is not nice for me,¡± Aurum grumbled. ¡°I can''t understand all these expressions.¡±
¡°Oh, sorry.¡± Callan turned to Devotion and Fortitude. ¡°Sorry about not saying hello to you two as well, Xylem told me that ¨C hey, is that gold!?¡±
¡°Yes, it is,¡± Fortitude said smugly, tilting her head so that Callan had a better view of the glittering accessory.
¡°Oh. ¡®Gold¡¯ is ¡®makra¡¯?¡± Aurum asked, looking pleased if a little confused. ¡°But my color is not like makra. Is it because your eyes are weird?¡±
¡°My eyes aren''t weird,¡± Callan huffed. ¡°I just can''t see all the colors that you can.¡±
¡°Wait,¡± Pryce said. ¡°How did you learn that dragons can see UV and IR light?¡±
Callan blinked. ¡°They can see both? Damn, I thought it was just one or the other, not both,¡± she muttered. ¡°Oh, right. I noticed it when I asked about Xylem¡¯s markings. No idea why they''d evolved to see those wavelengths though.¡±
¡°Well it makes sense that they''d evolve to see burning hydrogen.¡± Pryce said. He blinked at Callan''s confused expression. ¡°...You do know they can spit fire, right?¡±
¡°Well, yeah, but-¡± Callan stammered, then turned to Aurum. ¡°You have hydrogen!?¡±
¡°I don''t know what that is.¡±
¡°...Nevermind, I''ll explain later...¡± Callan said, rubbing her forehead. ¡°So hydrogen was the flammable component of their fire, eh? How¡¯d you figure that out?¡±
¡°Their gasses are lighter than air, burn mostly in wavelengths outside the visible spectrum, and the fire leaves behind no soot. Hydrogen is the only possible explanation, at least to my knowledge. As for the colors, I found that out when I showed Fathom a prism.¡±
¡°It was very confusing,¡± Fathom added. ¡°I¡¯m still baffled that humans see different colors than we do. You would think that color is color.¡±
¡°Well, anything else I should know?¡± Callan asked, sitting herself down onto a nearby bench.
¡°Yes, but¡maybe you should go first, this way I can make sure I tell you about the things you don''t know.
Callan nodded. ¡°Makes sense. I did cover most of the important stuff in my message, but that was before we went looking for allies.¡±
¡°We tried to find you,¡± Fathom said, ¡°but it seems you''ve been busy.¡±
Callan shrugged sheepishly. ¡°Yeah, sorry about that. We moved around a lot these past few days.¡±
¡°Callan has nine allies, including me,¡± Aurum said, peering down at Pryce. ¡°How many do you have?¡±
¡°...Pryce also has eight, including me,¡± Fathom answered after some hesitation.
Pryce tilted his head. ¡°Don''t we have nine? You, Celeste, Devotion, Fortitude, Kharno, Xylem, Echo, Nanzo, and Sharnha.¡±
Fathom flattened his spines as Pryce mentioned the Trespasser. ¡°Do we have to count him?¡± He asked mulishly, not quite having forgiven the trespasser yet.
¡°Are you both counting Xylem?¡± Fortitude asked. ¡°Then that means we have seventeen allies in total. Not bad.¡±
¡°Is it enough?¡± Pryce asked.
¡°Yes, of course,¡± Fortitude said, bobbing her head. ¡°The allies we have gathered prove that there is good reason to ally with you ¨C this will make others want to join us.¡±
¡°We had the same idea,¡± Aurum nodded. ¡°The seven we spoke with are ones I trust. You know Xylem and the twins, but we have also spoken with Wakori, Iakahn, Yintra, Eohmn, and Vhaka.¡±
¡°Vhaka?¡± Fathom said, drawing his head back in surprise.
¡°You know him?¡± Pryce asked.
¡°...yes. He was an old neighbor of mine. He¡¯s the one who took the territory I had with Abyss,¡± Fathom said, with surprising candor.
Pryce blinked. ¡°Aren¡¯t you¡mad about that?¡±
¡°I am not happy about it,¡± Fathom grumbled, ¡°and he was only ever able to beat me because of my broken wing, but Vhaka is an honorable dragon, and he won by fighting fairly, so I don¡¯t hate him.¡±
¡°Erhm, well, anyway,¡± Callan said, clearing her throat, ¡°Wakori is Aurum¡¯s mother, Iakahn is another dragon interested in exploring, and the last two are architects!¡± the geologist said excitedly. ¡°They lived in this huge wooden house, it was really something to see.¡±
¡°Dragons live in wooden houses?¡± Pryce asked, turning to Fathom. ¡°Why didn''t you tell me that before?¡±
Fathom shrugged. ¡°Very few do. It''s a lot of work, and for what? Easier to just live in a cave.¡±
Callan cleared her throat, interrupting. ¡°Anyway, I¡well, Aurum told them about what humans can do, and they all promised they''ll be at the Solstice.¡±
¡°I''m surprised they believed you,¡± Pryce said, which wasn''t a slight against Callan ¨C the woman simply didn''t have much technology on her, save for the literal clothes on her back.
¡°Ah, well¡I did have this,¡± Callan said, pulling out a small laminated photograph from her back pocket, one that Pryce recognized instantly.
It was a group photograph of the crew standing before the Horizon, the vessel having just been named, and the crew bright and smiling. Pryce had one too, though it was buried in his personal belongings.
¡°I''d forgotten it was even there, but it ended up being one of the most useful things I had,¡± Callan said. She took a moment to stare at the photograph before returning it to her back pocket. ¡°Anyway, Aurum and I planned to rest for a couple of days back in Xylem¡¯s home,¡± she continued, ¡°but it turned out that you lot already met him.¡±
¡°...that''s everything?¡± Pryce asked.
¡°The important parts, yeah. All of them were interested in human stuff, and each one wanted different things, but none of them wanted anything ridiculous.¡±
¡°The Twins want to travel to the land to the west,¡± Aurum recalled.
Fathom cocked his head. ¡°Only those two?¡±
¡°Those two and me,¡± Aurum corrected. ¡°But I will be the first, of course.¡±
¡°First?¡± Fathom drew back his head. ¡°Pryce has already agreed to take me to the Mainland ¨C I will be the first, not you.¡±
¡°Uh-oh,¡± Callan said.
¡°You?¡± Aurum growled, spines bristling. Behind him, Xylem warily glanced between the two ¨C their agitation hardly needed much translation. ¡°I have spent all of my life looking for another land! Why should someone like you be the first?¡±
¡°Ah, that explains why you¡¯ve been looking at me like that,¡± Fathom growled, his flight membranes sliding over his eyes. ¡°You¡¯re afraid, aren¡¯t you? Afraid that I¡¯ll beat you.¡±
Aurum stood up on all fours, teeth bared in anger. ¡°You-¡±
¡°Hey!¡± Callan called out, waving to get the attention of the two feuding males. ¡°No fighting, alright? We''re all going on the same ship, so aren''t you two going to be arriving at the same time?¡±
¡°Of course not,¡± Aurum hissed. ¡°Even if we go on the same ship, one of us will be the first to land on the Mainland.¡±
Pryce raised his hand to get their attention. ¡°Would it be alright if you both landed at the same time?¡±
¡°No!¡± Both dragons exclaimed, momentarily united in their refusal to compromise.
Callan made a frustrated noise and shot a meaningful glance at Pryce. Aurum had dedicated his century of life to exploring, so Pryce doubted the dragon would cede any ground on a subject he was so passionate about. Callan was the one who personally knew the dragon, and knowing that fact she must be hoping that Fathom would be the one to compromise.
Pryce had to shake his head. Fathom was generally rather amenable to most suggestions, but he had never asked him to give something up to another dragon before, and certainly not anything so important. He¡¯d almost asked anyway, but the expectant look in Fathom¡¯s eyes silenced him.
¡°Wait, Pryce, can you bring out a map?¡± Callan asked. ¡°A compass too.¡±
Pryce widened his eyes in realization and quickly retrieved the requested item, and laid it out along with a compass so that Aurum could get a clear view.
¡°This is the map I was talking about,¡± Callan explained, ¡°this is north, which is in that direction. This land here,¡± she said, tapping on the Mainland, ¡°is where humans are from. The biggest island here is the one that no one has ever been to.¡±
Aurum was silent for a moment as he stared wide-eyed at the great landmass. ¡°This is¡the far land? It is much bigger than Dragonia.¡±
¡°It is,¡± Callan nodded, ¡°It¡¯s almost nine times larger, and you can be the first to land there, and Fathom can be the first to land on the Mainland, is that okay?¡±
Aurum opened his mouth, then reluctantly closed it. ¡°I will agree to this if he does,¡± he said, grumbling as he glowered at Fathom.
Fathom likewise didn¡¯t seem quite satisfied, but a nod from Pryce led to his own begrudging agreement.
¡°Great, now that¡¯s settled,¡± Callan said, sitting down on a bench with relief. ¡°Now, where were we¡storytime, right?¡±
¡°Right,¡± Pryce nodded, ¡°but it¡¯ll be late by the time I¡¯m finished. Let me go get something for Xylem first, then I¡¯ll be right back.¡±
?Is that¡Coffee?? Xylem asked, sniffing the air.
¡°I did some stuff to it,¡± Pryce said, giving him and Callan the last two cups ¨C though of course Xylem¡¯s cup was actually a large jug. ¡°Let me know if you like it, but be careful; it¡¯s a bit hot.¡±
Callan blew on the hot liquid before taking a sip. ¡°Eugh,¡± she said, recoiling. ¡°This tastes¡¡± she paused, then took another sip. ¡°Huh. I think I kind of like it.¡±
¡°Really?¡± Pryce asked, surprised. ¡°Isn¡¯t it bitter?¡±
Callan shrugged. ¡°Yeah, but it''s got a nice flavor too.¡±
The odd container had stumped Xylem for a few moments, but now he had the handle looped around a talon, allowing him to bring it up to his muzzle for a cautious sniff. He lapped up a bit of it, then poured the rest of it into his maw. ?This is¡good. Very good. Can you make more?? the herbalist asked hopefully.
¡°Of course,¡± Pryce said, less surprised by this outcome. Fortitude had liked it, after all. ¡°I already used up all the beans you gave me, but I can easily make more coffee tea if you brought me more of them.¡±
?I¡¯ll be back tomorrow morning.?
¡°...can I have some?¡± Aurum asked Callan, watching as Xylem rapidly winging his way back home.
¡°Sure, you can have the rest,¡± Callan said, pouring the rest of her mug into his open maw ¨C much to Fathom¡¯s disappointment.
¡°I¡¯ll make you more later,¡± Pryce promised, turning to Callan. ¡°Now, let¡¯s get you caught up on everything that¡¯s happened.¡±
¡°Wow,¡± Callan said, half an hour later. It wouldn¡¯t have taken so long if Fathom hadn¡¯t felt the need to provide commentary on his side of the story. ¡°You''ve¡been through a lot,¡± the geologist noted.
¡°Well, I¡¯ve had help,¡± Pryce said, tilting his head to Fathom who nodded complacently.
¡°You finished with good timing,¡± Fortitude said, looking to the west. ¡°Celeste is back.¡±
¡°Ah, finally,¡± Fathom said, looking up at the sky. ¡°She is my daughter,¡± he added to Callan and Aurum.
Celeste dropped onto the deck a few minutes later, looking somewhat strained. ¡°Oh, you must be Callan,¡± she said, dismayed. ¡°Did I miss everything already? How did you find Qnaoro?¡± she asked, turning to the others.
¡°Xylem found and brought them back here,¡± Fathom explained. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t have missed everything if you weren¡¯t late. What took you so long?¡±
¡°I was hunting, but then I had to hide for a long time because some other dragons were flying around,¡± Celeste complained. ¡°I had to make sure no one was following me, and that took even more time,¡± she added mulishly.
¡°Well, at least you got here before Kharno,¡± Devotion said. ¡°It looks like she brought the twins with her.¡±
?Of course Helsha already found her,? Kharno huffed, peering down at Callan interestedly while the twins stared wide-eyed at the ship. According to Fathom, Yantha was the smaller but older twin, while Karoth was the larger but younger twin, though both dragons had red hide that matched the red of their eyes. ?She has much longer hair,? Kharno said. ?Are all human females like this??
?Yes, but apparently it¡¯s a matter of choice,? Aurum said, watching as the twins inspected the ship.
?Is this how the humans traveled across the ocean?? Yantha asked, tapping the side of a steel bulwark before staring at Pryce and Callan. ?How did such tiny creatures make such a thing??
?Impressive, isn¡¯t it?? Aurum asked smugly, ?Do you believe us now??
?...yes, you were not exaggerating at all,? Karoth said, replying to Aurum¡¯s translation. ?I¡¯m starting to see how it was done, but how does it move? Do you need to wait for the wind? That seems terribly inconvenient.?
¡°I get the feeling this is going to be pretty routine,¡± Pryce said to Callan, ¡°I can handle this, so you can go eat and take a shower if you want. There¡¯s stew in the kitchen, and the showers should be warm by now.¡±
¡°A warm shower,¡± Callan said, sighing wistfully, ¡°tempting, but let¡¯s finish talking with these guys first. It shouldn¡¯t take very long, especially with your help.¡±
¡°Yeah,¡± Pryce smiled. ¡°I suppose it won¡¯t.¡±
¡°I gotta say, never thought I¡¯d be bribing dragons,¡± Callan said as she filled her bowl with stew.
¡°I¡¯d hardly call it bribing,¡± Pryce said. ¡°Besides, we have to show them what humanity is capable of, and that we¡¯re willing to reward those who help us.¡±
Callan snorted as she sat at the end of a long communal table, utensils in hand. ¡°That¡¯s what bribing is, Pryce,¡± she said, slurping up a spoonful of stew. ¡°...this is delicious, what''d you put in it?¡±
Pryce shrugged. ¡°Nothing special. It''s probably just malnutrition making it taste better than normal.¡±
¡°Well it sure tastes better than that crap Henry used to-¡± Callan abruptly fell silent, and a grim silence filled the room. She pursed her lips as she absently stirred her stew, eyes glancing down at the table that once sat twenty instead of one. ¡°I guess it just hasn¡¯t¡sunk in yet,¡± she sighed.
Pryce remained silent, studiously preparing for his task at hand. What could he possibly say to that?
¡°What''re you making?¡± Callan asked quietly, a minute later.
¡°Just cutting up one of Xylem¡¯s choco fruits. They taste pretty good, but they¡¯re rather difficult to split open.¡± Pryce said, cleaving one such fruit open. ¡°You can try some, if you want.¡±
¡°Oh, I¡¯ve eaten a few of those before,¡± Callan said, eagerly accepting the fruit. ¡°People back home are gonna love this if we can figure out how to grow them. Those coffee beans too,¡± she added.
¡°...I¡¯m going to need a second opinion on that,¡± Pryce said doubtfully. ¡°Though I suppose it wouldn¡¯t help to market it as ¡®dragon tea¡¯.¡±
Callan chuckled lightly before falling silent again. ¡°You ever feel like there''s just¡too much going on?¡± she asked, waving a hand at nothing in particular. ¡°Everyone¡¯s dead, and we''re just supposed to¡do whatever it is we''re doing with the dragons? It''s not like there¡¯s anything else to do, but it just doesn''t feel right to just pretend they didn''t exist.¡±
Pryce paused his stirring. ¡°...yeah. I know the feeling.¡± He resumed stirring, taking a moment to formulate his response. ¡°They might be dead, but we¡¯re not pretending they didn¡¯t exist. You don''t think any of them would disagree with what we''ve done these past few months, do you?¡±
Callan looked down into her bowl, stirring absently. ¡°I guess that''s a good way of looking at it,¡± she said, not sounding entirely convinced.
¡°It¡helped that I had a chance to say goodbye¡even if it wasn''t one that they deserved,¡± Pryce said. ¡°We''ll just have to give them a proper funeral back home.¡±
Callan sighed, then finished the rest of her soup. ¡°Yeah, I guess we will.¡±
The following silence was less oppressive than it had previously been, and Pryce felt imperceptibly lighter as he washed the utensils.
¡°Well, I¡¯m off to shower now,¡± Callan said, handing him her empty bowl. She paused, stopping halfway through the doorway. ¡°I think I¡¯ll talk to Aurum about his¡disagreement with Fathom when I¡¯m done cleaning up.¡±
Pryce nodded. ¡°I was just about to do the same with Fathom. Oh, and Callan: did you name this island Dragonia?¡±
¡°Yeah, why?¡±
¡°Seems a bit¡on the nose.¡±
¡°Well what did you name it?¡±
¡°Um¡Alternis.¡±
¡°...¡±
¡°I hadn¡¯t met any dragons yet,¡± Pryce said defensively.
Callan shook her head. ¡°We¡¯ll talk about this tomorrow. Goodnight Pryce,¡± she said, and left for the showers.
¡°Everything alright?¡±
Pryce had returned to the deck to find Fathom and Celeste sleeping by the stern while Aurum slept on the opposite end of the ship, with Fortitude and Devotion in the middle.
¡°It''s not easy to sleep with someone like him so close,¡± Fathom said, grumbling over Celeste¡¯s light snores.
¡°Look, I know he¡¯s been disagreeable, but you can understand why this is so important to him, right?¡±
¡°Mmh.¡±
¡°Right?¡±
¡°I guess¡¡± Fathom mumbled, very quietly.
Pryce sighed, unsure of how to deal with this problem. The subject at hand might have been relatively inconsequential, but Pryce especially didn¡¯t want to set a precedent for replacing Fathom with more ¡°qualified¡± individuals; not when his friend had already expressed uncertainty on that matter.
¡°I know you really want to go to the Mainland; that¡¯s why I didn¡¯t ask you to give up your spot,¡± Pryce said, crouching down to look Fathom in the eyes. ¡°But we need to work together. If there¡¯s another argument, try and settle things without violence, alright?¡±
Fathom took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, blowing a steady stream of air through his nostrils. ¡°I¡¯ll try.¡±
¡°Good,¡± Pryce nodded, satisfied. ¡°Try and get some sleep, tomorrow¡¯s the big day.¡±
¡°Big day?¡± Fathom asked. ¡°Ah, like a great day. Goodnight, Pryce.¡±
¡°Goodnight, Fathom.¡±
Callan quietly approached Aurum, careful not to disturb the others. The golden dragon was curled up in a sleeping position, but his light blue eyes slid open as she approached.
¡°Hey, Aurum,¡± Callan said.
¡°You have new clothes,¡± Aurum said, raising his head to eye her more closely. ¡°You are much cleaner than before, and you¡smell like weird fruits?¡± he said, blinking in confusion.
¡°Ah. That¡¯s the smell of soap,¡± Callan said, brushing aside her still-damp hair. ¡°Anyway, I wanted to talk to you about the¡argument you had with Fathom today. I¡¯m not saying you were wrong,¡± she said, seeing his eyes narrow, ¡°but you won¡¯t convince anyone by yelling at them. At least try and talk things through, alright?¡±
¡°This situation is¡not normal,¡± Aurum said, quietly, ¡°I am a wanderer. A dragon like Fathom would never give me anything that is his, but things are different with humans around. I need to change my way of thinking, but it is¡difficult.¡±
¡°Well, you¡¯re a quick learner, I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll be fine.¡± Callan said, and began to unroll the sleeping bag she had brought with her.
¡°What is that?¡±
¡°It¡¯s called a sleeping bag. It¡¯s just to make sleeping more comfortable,¡± Callan said.
Aurum tilted his head, confused. ¡°Don¡¯t you want to sleep in your ship?¡±
¡°It¡¯s¡empty in there. I guess I¡¯ve gotten used to sleeping with you,¡± Callan confessed, a little embarrassed. But Aurum seemed not to think anything of it, and only lifted a wing in invitation.
¡°Goodnight, Aurum.¡±
¡°Goodnight, Laishaka.¡±
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 ¨C 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 ¨C 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 ¨C 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 ¨C 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 ¨C 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 ¨C 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 ¨C 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 ¨C 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 ¨C 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 ¨C 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 ¨C 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 ¨C 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 ¨C almost shaken ¨C 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.¡±
You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
¡°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 ¨C 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 ¨C 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 ¨C along with Mr. Callan and Mr. Harris ¨C 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 ¨C a man named Leonard ¨C 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 ¨C Ethan ¨C 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 ¨C 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 ¨C 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 ¨C 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 ¨C with the exception of Doctor Pryce and Doctor Callan ¨C 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 ¨C 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 ¨C 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 ¨C 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 ¨C 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 ¨C 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 ¨C who you had no idea wasn¡¯t a mindless animal at the time ¨C 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 ¨C 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-? and Ghorrah-?? 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 ¨C 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 ¨C 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.
Chapter 63, Day 101: Eclipse, Part 1: Crossing Paths
Ighnahr sighed as he rose to his feet, the rust-red dragon giving up on a good night¡¯s sleep for the fifth time in just as many days. He crawled out of the canopy that had sheltered him for the night and perched upon a nearby hilltop to gaze at the stars, pondering his father¡¯s last question for him.
What are you so afraid of?
He had little in the way of treasure, no children, no friends, and certainly no partner. If he died, the only thing anyone would feel would be relief.
So why was he so afraid?
Huroumh might be a bluntstone, and he might not even be able to fly anymore, but Ighnahr doubted that would be enough to stop him from accepting a duel. The red dragon had always written off such behavior as foolishness, but now he could not help but wonder if Huroumh ever felt such anxiety himself¡was he not afraid?
Huroumh had plenty of opportunities to kill him, and each time he¡¯d been left alive left Ighnahr feeling more confused and infuriated than ever before, with the end of their last fight topping them all. Was honor really something worth dying over?
Up above, a streak of light pierced the sky ¨C a lone falling star. It was hardly an uncommon sight, though this one shone a little brighter than most. Even still, it was gone in the blink of an eye.
For a time he simply stared up at the sky as he allowed his distracted mind to wander.
Suddenly a flicker of movement caught his eye, and Ighnahr swiftly flattened himself against the ground. Far up above him he saw a dragon peer over the edge of the Plateau in a wary and suspicious manner. Ighnahr¡¯s pupils widened to their fullest extent, and he recognized Sharnha just as the dragon dove off the Plateau to glide eastwards.
For whatever reason, Sharnha¡¯s information hadn¡¯t spread across the land as he¡¯d expected it to. He hadn¡¯t heard anyone speak about the great metal shell, and the only thing they knew was that Qnaoro had been found with a single ¡®human¡¯.
Alone, the two pieces of information weren¡¯t enough to be particularly useful, but together they pointed to only one possibility: the humans were recruiting allies, with Huroumh and Qnaoro being among their number. Sharnha¡¯s secrecy suddenly made complete sense ¨C he must have leapt at the opportunity to ally with the creatures, and that meant he was almost certainly on his way to communicate with the humans.
Ighnahr tensed and remained still as stone as he waited for Sharnha to put some distance between them. So long as he was careful the black moon would make his pursuit nearly impossible to detect. Apparently the winds were on his side, just this once, but as Sharnha pulled away Ighnahr hesitated; was this really the best course of action?
The Brewer clan had just arrived last night, and while everyone expected the arrival of a few clan members, everyone was surprised to see Vosae herself leading a group of eighteen dragons to the Plateau¡including Ighnahr¡¯s own parents.
His father and Vosae were old allies; he must have told Vosae what Ighnahr had told him¡and she had believed it, judging by the fact that the clan leader herself had come all the way from the southern end of the land.
Under normal circumstances, a dragon like Vosae would have surely ignored any information that came from someone like him, but the extraordinary nature of the news backed by his father had evidently swayed her. Given the clan¡¯s evident interest in the humans, offering further information regarding their location would surely be enough to earn them as reluctant yet powerful allies, even for someone like him.
If things had gone according to plan, Ighnahr wouldn¡¯t have needed to bother with the Brewer clan at all, but he had to consider the number of allies that the humans had made. It had been nearly half a month since Sharnha had come across the metal shell; enough time to make plenty of allies.
And Huroumh was one of them.
The human-allied dragons would have no reason to try to stop him from dueling his enemy ¨C in fact, they would likely welcome a reduction to their number if it meant a larger share of whatever reward the humans had promised them, but Ighnahr doubted that the humans would stand by and let him kill one of their allies.
The strange beings were an unknown factor, but Ighnahr doubted they posed much of a threat. If they had the strength, then why bother with allies? If they were as small as he heard they were then he could safely ignore them; a weakling was still a weakling, after all, even if they could apparently shape a great amount of metal.
So that meant he had two options before him:
Follow Sharnha, who was most likely on his way back to his human allies, then challenge Huroumh to a duel with the allies of the humans as witnesses.
Or, he could follow Sharnha, double back, then challenge Huroumh to a duel with the backing of the largest and most powerful clan in existence.
The latter plan meant more credible witnesses to see his victory, but of course Vosae would have ideas of her own. There was a chance she might try to ally with the humans just as the others did, but the clan leader was not known for having a penchant for cooperation. No, if anyone would start a fight it would be her, and she had come prepared. If his hunch was correct then she would have no reason to refuse his aid.
Decision made, he ran off the ledge of the Plateau, throwing open his wings into a glide.
Ighnahr would have much rather preferred a victory over a healthy foe instead of a weakened one, but he was in no position to be picky. If he was to be a curse, never to be respected, then he saw no reason to care about honor or dignity. Today he would correct a mistake, and settle things once and for all.
Footsteps woke Aurum from his slumber, and the golden dragon raised his head to see Laishaka walking towards him. A glance up at the sky told him that the sun was just below the horizon.
The other allied dragons weren¡¯t quite comfortable sleeping near each other yet, and had gone off to sleep in their own spots, meaning the only dragons in the immediate vicinity were himself, Fortitude, Devotion, Fathom, and Celeste, to use their human nicknames.
¡°Good morning,¡± Laishaka said, and Aurum drowsily returned the greeting.
¡°Did you sleep well?¡± He asked as he blinked blearily at the human.
¡°I did. Haven¡¯t slept that well in a long time,¡± Laishaka said, a contented smile on her face as she stretched. A faint gust of wind blew towards Aurum, and he detected something different about her scent¡no, it was her partner¡¯s scent intermingled with her own, which meant¡
¡°I know you said humans can have an egg whenever they want, but is now a good time?¡± Aurum asked incredulously, but the human only made a desperate clamping gesture over her mouth as the rest of the humans began to trickle out onto the deck.
¡°Later,¡± she hissed, then paced away a little faster than seemed to be necessary. Aurum tossed his head as he stood up and stretched; it seemed that this was an embarrassing topic for humans despite the amount of offspring they had.
Aurum watched as the humans carried items around the ship in a manner not dissimilar to the busy movements of ants, with Pryce and the Captain directing the other humans around. He was faintly impressed that the Captain seemed to be able to keep track of what everyone was doing; not a single person was idle, at least in Aurum¡¯s inexperienced eyes. Laishaka had explained that they were moving food and tools from the Daybreak to the Horizon, but the golden dragon had a more interesting question on his mind.
¡°Laishaka, you said that humans didn¡¯t have patterns,¡± Aurum said, eyeing one sailor who had an odd mark on his shoulder that was shaped very much like a fish.
¡°We don¡¯t,¡± Laishaka said, looking up in confusion. ¡°Oh, those are tattoos. Those are made by putting¡color into the skin. It¡¯s like drawing.¡±
¡°Oh!¡± Aurum said, eyes lighting up. ¡°Do you think that would work on a dragon?¡± he asked, twisting his head around as he wondered what would look best on his wings.
Laishaka grimaced, her soft face scrunching up. ¡°I don¡¯t think that¡¯s a good idea."
Aurum blinked. "Why not?" he asked, surprised at the outright dismissal.
"It¡¯s¡uh¡painful?" Laishaka suggested.
"If humans can do it then it cannot hurt very much," Aurum snorted. ¡°I am not weaker than a human.¡±
"Er¡¡± She glanced around, and waved Pryce over to explain the situation, though Aurum wasn¡¯t sure why the older human¡¯s input was needed.
Pryce thought for a moment. ¡°I don¡¯t think you should get one either. It¡¯s permanent ¨C that means it does not go away."
"Really?¡± Fathom asked, joining in on the conversation. ¡°So you don''t have to keep drawing it? It¡¯ll just stay there forever?"
Oddly enough, Laishaka shot a glare at Pryce, who only shrugged helplessly.
¡°Very interesting,¡± Fortitude said. Their conversation had caught the attention of all the dragons present, as well as a few passing crewmen. ¡°It reminds me of horn-markings.¡±
Pryce looked to Fortitude, eyebrow raised, ¡°Horn-markings? What are those?¡±
¡°Markings made on horns,¡± Devotion said candidly. ¡°Stomach-juice from animals can¡¡¯eat¡¯ things very slowly, and make horns redder. Use clay to protect horn you do not want changed, and you can ¡®draw¡¯ on horns.¡±
¡°Why didn¡¯t you tell me about this?¡± Pryce asked, turning to Fathom.
¡°Not many do it,¡± Fathom shrugged. ¡°It is difficult to do alone, and it heals in a few months. Usually it¡¯s done by dragons who belong to clans, since they can help each other do that sort of thing.¡±
¡°When do you think we can try ¡®tattoos¡¯?¡± Fortitude asked interested.
¡°None of us brought any tattooing tools with us,¡± Gordon chuckled, pausing for a moment to speak with a crate of supplies in his arms. ¡°But it would take an awfully ¨C I mean, a very long time to draw a tattoo big enough to fit on one of you, and it would be very expensive.¡±
Celeste tilted her head. ¡°What does ¡®expensive¡¯ mean?¡±
¡°I¡¯ll tell you about that later, it¡¯s complicated,¡± Pryce sighed. ¡°But you still wouldn¡¯t want to get one, because they start fading over time. In a few decades it¡¯ll be all blurry.¡±
¡°Oh. That is a shame,¡± Fathom said, sighing in disappointment. ¡°But if you can make your own markings, then why are some of them so weird? Like those ones on your face,¡± he said, pointing a talon at Gordon.
¡°Markings on my face?¡± Gordon asked, touching his face. ¡°Is there something on my face?¡±
¡°Not that I can see,¡± Pryce said, leaning in for a closer look at the supposed markings. ¡°Dragons can see in infrared and ultraviolet wavelengths of light. It must be some phenotype that was never eliminated¡¡± he paused in thought, rubbing his chin. ¡°Do only some people have them?¡± he asked Fathom.
¡°I can see¡eight people with strange markings right now,¡± Celeste noted. ¡°Can you not see them at all? Why do humans have markings if they can¡¯t even see them?¡±
Gordon shrugged. ¡°Well don¡¯t ask me, I can¡¯t see them. What do these markings look like?¡±
¡°It¡¯s hard to describe¡¡± Celeste said, tilting her head as she peered more closely. ¡°The markings are ultraviolet in color, and the pattern is a bit like a splash of¡blood?¡±
¡°It¡¯s probably not important, but it might be something worth looking into back home,¡± Pryce noted.
The sound of flapping caused Fathom to raise his head ¨C up in the sky, a green dragon gradually made his descent onto the beach.
?This must be the second ship,? the newcomer said faintly as he stared up at the two steel behemoths.
?Who are you?? Fathom asked as he leapt down upon the beach, and was followed by his daughter, Fortitude, Devotion, and Aurum.
?My name is Sharnha ¨C now, I know I did you wrong, but we are both allied to the humans now,? the informant hurriedly added as Fathom narrowed his eyes.
?If you say so,? Fathom chuffed. ?I assume the fact that you¡¯re here means you have something important to tell us,? he said shortly.
?Only the fact that Vosae arrived at the Plateau last night with three-quarters of the clan,? Sharnha said candidly, immediately spreading concern among the gathered dragons.
?Why did she bring so many?? Devotion asked, frowning. ?I¡¯ve never heard of her taking so many of her clan with her before.?
?How should I know? It¡¯s not like I could just walk up and ask them myself,? Sharnha said defensively. ?The only other thing I can tell you is that they were quick to ask if anyone had seen Qnaoro and his human, but that¡¯s hardly an unusual question.?
?Who did she bring with her?? Fortitude asked, her spines stiffened in concern.
?I don¡¯t know all of their names,? Sharnha said, ?but I heard she brought Hakra, Manthk, Apanth, and that new dragonet of hers, Icahna. I wasn¡¯t able to learn the names of the others,? he said, a little regretfully.
?Those are the older and more capable members of her clan,? Devotion frowned, ?it sounds like she¡¯s expecting trouble¡the others only know about Callan, and none of them know about the ship yet, correct??
?Of course not,? Sharnha said, tossing his head emphatically. ?I didn¡¯t hear anyone mention anything about great metal shells like these,? he said, gesturing a wing-thumb towards the ships. ?Everyone knew this was going to be the largest gathering in living memory. I don¡¯t think she needs much more of a reason to bring her best fighters. Besides,? he added, ?if they did know about the ship, why go to the Plateau? Even a blind search would give them a better chance at finding this ship.?
?...You have a point,? Devotion admitted. ?Though they might have gone to the Plateau first in case something unexpected had happened. Either way, she¡¯s expecting trouble somewhere or somehow. You were not followed, were you?? she asked, her gaze fixed squarely upon the informant.
?Please, I¡¯m not an idiot,? Sharnha said, puffing out his chest indignantly. ?I even stopped in several places to travel on foot or to swim through rivers. I would have arrived much earlier if I hadn¡¯t bothered to do that.?
?Hm¡regardless, we¡¯ll have to be on guard,? Devotion chuffed. ?Now, one of you summarize everything to our human allies. They seem to be getting anxious.?
¡°I thought most dragons lived alone?¡± Captain Siebert asked once Fathom had translated Sharnha¡¯s information.
¡°Most of us do, but there are some who live in groups,¡± Fathom explained. ¡°The Brewer clan is the largest and most powerful clan, but the clan itself is only made up of twenty dragons. They can¡¯t do anything against hundreds of other dragons,¡± he said reassuringly.
¡°How bad is this news? Is it worse than you expected?¡± Siebert inquired.
¡°We did not expect her to bring so many of her clan,¡± Fortitude explained, ¡°but it should not matter very much. They still do not know that there is more than one human here, and they do not know about ships at all. We do not need to change our plans,¡± she said in summary.
¡°But we can send ?Sharnha? ¨C this green dragon who just arrived ¨C back to the Plateau,¡± Fortitude continued, ¡°Then he can lead our other allies back here. It will be good to show them your ship.¡±
¡°Weren¡¯t you planning on going to the Plateau tomorrow?¡± Gordon asked.
Fortitude shrugged. ¡°We gain no advantage by waiting here, and it would be nice if we could show them that humans can predict an eclipse. If Sharnha leaves now, he can bring the others back hours before it happens.¡±
¡°We¡¯re just about done shifting the supplies as well,¡± Sibert said. ¡°I suppose there¡¯s no reason to wait. Lieutenant Baker, prepare to set sail. The ten volunteers I selected yesterday will remain behind and make whatever preparations we can.¡±
¡°Understood, sir,¡± Baker saluted, and set about ordering the men to finish up their tasks.
?What strange speech,? Sharnha muttered, ?How under the sun can you understand those words??
?Be grateful you don¡¯t have to learn it yet,? Devotion grumbled. ?go back to the plateau, bring everyone back to the ship,? she ordered.
?Everyone?? Sharnha said, drawing his head back in surprise. ?Well, I suppose there is no use in waiting. Can I bring something with me to prove that I know where the humans are?? he asked.
Pryce thought for a moment. ¡°How about a group photo?¡±
¡°Say ¡®cheese¡¯,¡± Scott said, starting the timer of several cameras before racing down to the beach, the young man quickly joining the cross-species photoshoot.
¡°Why did he tell us to say ¡®cheese¡¯?¡± Fathom asked through slightly parted jaws.
¡°Human culture thing,¡± Pryce said through clenched teeth. ¡°We have to show our teeth to make a noise like ¡®cheese¡¯, and that looks like a smile. Saying cheese is just telling people to smile for the camera.¡±
¡°Okay, but why cheese? Isn''t there a better word you could have used instead of gross, spoiled milk?¡± Fathom grumbled, causing stifled laughter among the crew as several clicks sounded from the cameras.
¡°Well, that turned out pretty well,¡± Gordon said, passing the laminated photograph to Jane.
¡°I wonder how many textbooks this''ll be in,¡± Jane mused as she dropped the photo and a handheld mirror into a satchel, then offered it to Sharnha. ¡°You open and close it like this,¡± she said, demonstrating how to open and shut the satchel.
?How useful,? Sharnha said, opening the bag to carefully inspect the photograph and his payment. ?Though these are far more impressive. Is there anything else I need to do other than bring everyone here? No? Then I best be off!? With that, Sharnha launched himself into the air, his silhouette rapidly disappearing into the distance.
Ighnahr landed upon the plateau with hearts racing ¨C Sharnha had slipped free of his pursuit, infuriatingly enough, but a metal shell could only be on a river or a beach, and Ighnahr had nothing to lose by checking the coastline.
And that was how he found not one, but two unfathomably enormous metal shells sitting upon the beach. The dark made it hard to discern much detail, especially at such a distance, but Ighnahr was certain that he''d seen several dragons lying on top of those shells.
He''d turned around right there and then. Judging by the lack of pursuit he hadn''t been noticed, at least. Now he was finally back at the Plateau, and it was time to speak with the Brewer clan¡and his parents.
?Stop right there, wretch,? Hakra hissed, stopping his approach.
?I know where the humans are,? Ighnahr said, ignoring the disdainful look the brewer clan guard shot him. ?Take me to Vosae-?, I have something she¡¯ll want to hear.?
?Is that so,? Hakra snorted. ?We¡¯ll see about that.? The blue dragon turned and made his way towards the rest of his clan, apparently granting him passage.
Ighnahr awkwardly followed the guard-turned guide, and he had to keep his spines from flaring up as he soon found himself surrounded by twelve dragons ¨C including his parents.
?Greetings, Vosae-?¡father, mother,? Ighnahr said, lowering his head diffidently.
The elder clan leader¡¯s scales were half-white with age, and her sky blue eyes were certainly intimidating, but no one would have said that the clan leader looked well. Swathes of hide hung loose from her body, and the bags of flesh under her eyes were evidence of her diminished state.
(Art by Rackiera)
However, despite everything, she was still the clan leader, and Ighnahr did not forget that for an instant.
?Ighnahr,? Igansa said flatly, her bright blue eyes filled with contempt.
?Did you find something?? Anzath asked, his father¡¯s gaze as piercing as ever.
Ighnahr nodded. ?Early this morning I saw Sharnha depart under the cover of darkness. I followed him, and found something interesting.?
?You speak as if you want to trade, wretch,? Vosae growled.
Ighnahr froze, tensing involuntarily ¨C not that there was anything he could do, surrounded by half the clan that he was. ?You see the humans to as enemies, don¡¯t you?? he asked, hoping that he was right. ?Huroumh is my enemy, and he is one of their allies. All I ask is that you allow me to duel him free of interference, and I will guide you to the humans.?
Vosae sat, impassive as the stone she rested on. She gave no indication that she was surprised even when he said he knew where the humans were. Instead she snorted at the end of his proposal.
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?Let me guess,? Vosae drawled. ?They''re somewhere to the east, yes?? she chuffed, seeing his eyes widen in surprise. ?We both know that the humans used a metal shell to float over the ocean, so it¡¯s hardly a leap to realize that they¡¯re somewhere nearby, given that they were the ones to decide on the location and date.?
?Perhaps,? Ighnahr admitted, ?but I can save you the effort of searching, and I am not asking you to sacrifice anything in return.?
Vosae did not immediately respond, but silently regarded him for a few moments. ?Very well,? she said, and gestured to the east with a partially unfolded wing. ?We cannot all leave at once without arousing suspicion. We¡¯ll leave individually, then rendezvous at the Great Hollow.?
Ighnahr stood frozen for a moment, baffled by the sudden compliance, but he soon nodded his acceptance before launching himself into the air.
?Why did you accept his help?? Hakra asked incredulously. ?He''s just a curse who can''t even beat a dying ember of a dragon. He¡¯d be a hindrance at best, and at worst he could be lying to us; what if he''s trying to draw us away from the Plateau??
?I don''t like it either,? Manthk grumbled, ?It''s not right to deal with a curse.?
Vosae lightly shook her head. ?Regardless of what you feel, besting Huroumh is the one thing that dragon wants, so I don¡¯t see any chance of him betraying us. Besides, allowing him a fair duel is the least I can do for you two,? she said, turning to Anzath and Igansa.
?Appreciated,? Anzath nodded.
Igansa only huffed in disdain. ?Likewise, though I would caution against any positive expectation of him.?
?Noted,? Vosae said, and turned to address her clan. ?Leave by order of seniority, starting with Hakra. If someone asks you where you¡¯re headed off to, pretend you have gone to hunt. Ensure that you are not followed above all else, understood??
They all nodded, and Hakra dove off the side of the Plateau.
¡°Both ships are ready to set sail, Captain,¡± Lieutenant Baker reported.
¡°Congratulations, Lieutenant; you are now acting captain of the Daybreak. I leave the ship in your capable hands.¡± Siebert paused. ¡°Something the matter, Lieutenant?¡±
¡°I know a few more men wouldn''t make much of a difference,¡± Baker said cautiously, ¡°but I''d still feel much better if you took a few more men with you, Captain.¡±
¡°My decision is made.¡± Siebert paused, then quietly said, ¡°It is quite unnecessary to risk the lives of good men for a marginal increase in safety.¡±
¡°...understood, Captain.¡± Baker touched his hat, then boarded the Daybreak. Over the course of minutes the anchors were raised and exhaust began to puff out of the smokestacks.
¡°Good luck!¡± The departing crew shouted as the ship gradually began to drift away, and those who remained returned with cries of ¡°See you back home!¡±
¡°Well, ¡®suppose I can''t say I didn''t sign up for whatever happens next.¡± Gordon chuckled as he pulled out a cigarette.
¡°What is that?¡± Celeste asked as she peered curiously at the lit object.
¡°Oh, this? It''s just a cigarette,¡± Gordon said, and Celeste stared, eyes wide in horror as he puffed out a lungful of smoke.
¡°Hey-¡± Gordon yelped as Celeste flicked the cigarette out of his hands and onto the beach. ¡°What the hell?!¡±
¡°Are you-¡± Celeste abruptly paused. ?Father, what is the word for crazy??
Fathom stared at the smoldering cigarette butt. ¡°Crazy.¡±
¡±Are you crazy?¡± Celeste demanded. ¡°Why are you breathing smoke!?¡±
¡°It''s normal!¡± Gordon cried.
Fathom slowly turned to Pryce. ¡°Please tell me that this isn''t normal human behavior.¡±
Pryce sheepishly rubbed his neck. ¡°I think about¡four in ten adults smoke?¡±
Fathom blinked.
¡°That must be why they do not live very long,¡± Fortitude chuffed.
¡°What reason could you possibly have to breathe smoke?¡± Fathom cried.
¡°It helps me relax!¡± Gordon retorted defensively. ¡°And you dragons can spit fire! That''s worse than smoke!¡±
¡°Our fire goes out, not in,¡± Celeste hissed. ¡°These are opposite things!¡±
¡°Why are you all so against something that you haven''t even tried?!¡±
¡°By that logic you should try eating rocks, just because you haven''t tried it before,¡± Fathom shot back.
¡°I suspect they have very efficient lungs, like birds,¡± Pryce explained, ¡°but like birds, this also makes them very sensitive to noxious gasses, including smoke.¡±
¡°So what,¡± Gordon huffed, crossing his arms, ¡°am I not allowed to smoke near a dragon?¡±
¡°You can breathe poison if you want,¡± Fathom snorted. ¡°Just do it somewhere far away from me.¡±
¡°You do not breathe smoke, do you, Laishaka?¡± Aurum asked suspiciously.
¡°Err¡¡± Jane stammered. ¡°Well¡not often¡?¡±
¡°Before you ask, I don''t smoke,¡± Pryce said to Fathom as Aurum gave Jane the most disappointed look he''d ever seen on a dragon.
¡°Great,¡± Fathom grumbled sarcastically as he rubbed the side of his face with his wing thumb. ¡°I never thought I would be relieved to hear someone say that they aren''t a smoke-breather ¨C that''s literally a draconic insult, by the way.¡±
Captain Siebert cleared his throat. ¡°Perhaps we should prepare for the several hundred dragons who will be here tomorrow.¡±
¡°Yes, we have a plan for that,¡± Fortitude said. ¡°We believe that it would be best if the other dragons do not learn about rifles yet. If there is a fight, let us handle it. It is better to settle things between dragons, so do not interfere unless we cannot win ¨C I will tell you if that is the case.¡±
¡°Sensible,¡± Siebert nodded. ¡°In that case, we¡¯ll take shelter in the ship until the fight is over, or if you need our help. Are there any¡physical preparations we should complete?¡±
Celeste tilted her head, then sat on her haunches to examine her foreclaws. ¡°My talons are a bit dull. Do you have any tools to sharpen things with?¡±
¡°You mean a file?¡± Gordon asked blankly. ¡°We¡¯ve got a few of those, let me get one for you.¡± He returned a minute later, and offered the metal file to Celeste.
*Sssshk*
Celeste blinked, then ran the file along her index talon a few more times, then experimentally ran the sharpened nail along the edge of her wing membranes. ¡°Oh, now that is sharp,¡± she purred, and eagerly began sharpening her other talons.
(Art by Bloov on Discord)
Upon seeing her success the other dragons turned to Gordon, an expectant look in their eyes. ¡°I¡¯ll, uh, go and get one for each of you,¡± he said nervously.
Soon the dragons were marveling at the sharpness of their talons, with some testing them on nearby trees before re-sharpening them once again.
¡°How convenient,¡± Fathom said, flexing his talons. ¡°Faster and easier than using rocks.¡±
?This feels a little unfair,? Kharno hummed. ?Oh well. Anyone want to go hunting with me?? she asked, and soon flew off with the twins by her side.
¡only to return immediately. ?There¡¯s a group of dragons approaching from the west!? Kharno called out.
?I knew we shouldn¡¯t have trusted that idiot. He must have been followed,? Fathom hissed.
¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± Captain Siebert demanded.
¡°There¡¯s a group of dragons to the west,¡± Pryce said severely, ¡°we don¡¯t know who they are yet.¡±
¡°Inside the ship, now!¡± The Captain ordered, ushering all crewmen inside the Horizon.
¡°Should we move the ship?¡± Scott asked.
Siebert shook his head. ¡°We can¡¯t outspeed them. Shelter first, plan later!¡±
¡°We¡¯ll talk to them first, then we¡¯ll let you know if they aren¡¯t hostile,¡± Fathom said, positioning himself between outside the door of the ship. Likewise the other dragons began taking up various positions around the vessel, with a few sitting on the deck.
?They¡¯re all blue,? Fortitude rumbled. ?Which means they must be the Brewer clan.?
?Wait, two of them are purple,? Devotion said, squinting at the skies. ?With pale scales¡I think those are Anzath and Igansa.?
?Ighnahr¡¯s parents,? Fathom growled. ?He must have given them Sharnha¡¯s information.?
?We¡¯ll talk about that later,? Devotion growled. ?Jooral and I know Vosae best, so we¡¯ll handle the discussion.?
Fathom nearly protested at her sudden decision, but her tone left no room for rebuke, and the silence that followed proved that the others felt the same.
?Impressive,? Vosae said when she finally landed upon the beach, her fellow clan falling into place beside her, though Anzath and Igansa landed together a short distance away ¨C the two elders possessed deep purple wing membranes, but their pale scales resulted in a light mauve coloration across their bodies.
Vosae scanned each of the dragons present as she waited for the dust in the air to settle, her gaze lingering on Aurum, Fortitude, Devotion, Helsha, and Kharno in particular. ?Are all of you gathered here as allies of these ¡®humans¡¯? Even you, Ghorrah-?? Jooral-??? she asked, calling out across the distance that separated the two groups.
?Indeed, Vosae-?,? Devotion rumbled tightly.
?I must say, Anzath-?, you rather undersold these metal shells,? Vosae said, glancing back at the light purple elder.
?I do not think anyone would believe such a story to begin with,? Anzath said, his eyes wide as he took in the ship, an expression shared by all the newly arrived dragons.
That was a good sign, Fathom thought, and he felt himself and the others gradually begin to relax as the Brewer clan exhibited no outright hostile intentions. Still, he doubted that curiosity alone could explain Vosae¡¯s presence, and he knew better than to let his guard down around these dragons.
?So, I assume the humans are hiding in that shell of theirs?? Vosae asked. ?Will they not come out? I did not think they would be so shy, judging by the number of allies they have gathered.?
Fortitude glanced at Devotion, who nodded. ¡°...they do not seem to be enemies,¡± Fortitude called out to the ship, ¡°but be careful. Do not get too close to them, and stay close to us.¡±
¡°If our allies believe it is safe for us to go out, then Doctor Pryce, Doctor Callan, Mr. Gordon, and myself will speak with the dragons,¡± Captain Siebert said, ¡°the rest of you will remain here with the rifles, be ready for anything, but friendly fire will not be tolerated ¨C that includes our dragon allies, understood?¡±
¡°If I may,¡± Pryce said, clearing his throat. ¡°I advise against firing unless one of us is in immediate danger. As Fortitude said, it is normal for dragons to fight dragons, but peace will be far more difficult the moment one of us harms or kills a dragon.¡±
¡°And what counts as ¡®immediate danger¡¯?¡± Campbell asked, eyebrow raised.
¡°That will ultimately be up to your discretion,¡± Siebert said, lips pressed into a thin line. ¡°But know that your actions will determine the future of our peoples. I recommend giving our allies a chance to protect us before firing, but I know that this is not an easy distinction to make.¡±
¡°...they do not seem to be enemies,¡± Fortitude said, her brassy voice penetrating the ship¡¯s hull. ¡°But be careful. Do not get too close to them, and stay close to us.¡±
¡°That¡¯s our cue,¡± Gordon said. He cranked the door open, and the four of them stepped out with arms full of tools ¨C items that Pryce and Callan had decided would be of greatest interest to the Brewer clan.
As Pryce stepped out onto the beach, he saw that the clan indeed consisted entirely of blue dragons. Each individual possessed a slightly different shade of blue, though some were more accurately teal or turquoise in color. Now that they were close, he could see dark red patterns on their horns that bore a superficial resemblance to flames ¨C evidently the horn-markings that Fortitude had told them about.
One dragon stood before all the others, her frosted scales contrasted against the dark indigo blue of her wing membranes. It was the starkest contrast of color Pryce had ever seen on a dragon, but it wasn¡¯t the only thing unique about her appearance.
She was the first dragon he¡¯d seen who looked old. Her eyes were sharp, and she looked far from weak or senile, but her hide was wrinkled in some places and hung loose in others in much the same way as skin would on an aged human.
Pryce recalled that she was only about a decade older than Devotion or Fortitude, which meant that her somewhat haggard appearance must be a result of something other than senescence ¨C excessive stress as a result of her role, for example, could explain her aged appearance.
¡°I will introduce you, since they can¡¯t understand you anyway,¡± Fathom said, before Siebert could make his introductions. ?The one with black and white fur on his head is Pryce, he is the first human I met about eighty days ago. The shortest one is Jane Callan, the one who Qnaoro found, the tall one wearing the shiny things is the leader of the second group of humans, and the last one is the partner of Jane Callan.? He paused, then seeing the Brewer clan¡¯s confused expressions he added, ?Pryce and Jane Callan can understand some of our speech, but they cannot pronounce it very well, so one of us must speak for them.?
?I suppose we should introduce ourselves,? Vosae said. ¡°Vosae-?,¡± she said, gesturing to herself with a wing-thumb. ?Those two are Anzath-? and Igansa-?,? she said, gesturing to her two fellow elders before signaling the others of her clan to follow suit in what appeared to be order of seniority, with a five-year-old grown dragonet being the last.
?You mentioned a second group of humans?? Hakra asked, eyes narrowed. She was the second eldest of Vosae¡¯s daughters, though Vojan, the eldest, was notably absent. If Fathom had to guess, she had likely been left behind to manage the clan¡¯s affairs in the absence of Vosae.
?There are two groups of humans, each who arrived on their own metal shell,? Devotion explained, casting a look at Fathom that said to let her convey the rest. ?Pryce and Jane Callan were the only survivors of the first group. The second arrived yesterday to help the first.?
Vosae¡¯s eyes darted to the pile of churned up sand, evidence of the Daybreak¡¯s landing. ?I see,? she murmured, peering at the humans. ?And where is this second metal shell now??
¡±She is asking where the other humans and the second ship are.¡± Devotion said, translating Vosae¡¯s question. ¡°Should I tell them the truth?¡±
¡°I don¡¯t see any harm in it,¡± Siebert said. ¡°It will be good for them to know that killing us will not prevent humanity from learning about your kind.¡±
Devotion nodded, then turned back to Vosae as she gestured vaguely to the east. ?The humans decided that it was best to send some of the second group back home so that they could tell all of the other humans about us, while the rest of the group remained behind to assist the first group,? she explained, then tilted her head. ?We were planning on sending a messenger tomorrow to bring those at the Plateau here. How did you find us??
?Anzath here told me that someone had found a great metal shell,? Vosae said, clearly noticing Sharnha¡¯s absence, ?Naturally, I had to investigate, and there are only so many places such a thing could be found.?
?Then you must know where Ighnahr is,? Fathom said, his voice a low rumble.
?Hardly,? Vosae chuffed, tossing her head. ?Why would we bother with that curse? He¡¯s probably out there blindly searching the shorelines like we were. We merely had the advantage of searching several locations at once ¨C that is how Eosha here found you this morning, before she returned and led us back here.?
Devotion narrowed her eyes. ?Is that so,? she said, a silent question in her eyes as she glanced at her partner.
?You¡¯ve been awfully civil for someone who¡¯s brought so many people with her,? Fortitude said, head tilted skeptically. ?Let us get to the point; are you here to be an ally??
?Jooral, you cannot expect me to honesty answer that question when I have only just met these creatures,? Vosae said in reasonable tones. ?I was hoping to learn more of their intentions before making a decision.?
¡°She is asking about human intentions,¡± Fortitude translated.
¡°Tell her we had only intended to explore unknown lands; we didn¡¯t know there would be intelligent people here,¡± Siebert said.
?And what were you planning to do if you found these lands to be¡appealing?? Vosae asked, lowering her head to peer closely at the humans ¨C or at least, as closely as she could, with Fathom and the others standing between them.
¡°She¡¯s asking what we would do if we¡liked these lands, I think,¡± Pryce said, earning a nod from Fathom. ¡°We can¡¯t lie about this,¡± he said, warning Siebert. ¡°It would be too blatant. We¡¯d be idiots if we went exploring with no intent on using what we found.¡±
¡°Tell them that we planned to have humans live here,¡± Siebert said, ¡°but we can¡¯t do that without settling on an agreement, now that we know these lands are taken. Be sure to tell them that we are willing to help each other and trade with dragons in exchange for being allowed to live on your lands,¡± he added to Fortitude.
?Hmph. How generous of you,? Vosae rumbled. ?And what exactly would you offer to trade?? she asked, eyeing the ship with a prospective gaze.
?There are three lands in the world,? Devotion began, and Pryce, hearing his cue, picked up the globe and handed it over to Fathom, who gave it to Vosae for her perusal ¨C but not without warning her of the item¡¯s fragility. ?That is called a ¡°globe¡±, and it is a miniature representation of the entire world,? Devotion went on to explain, ?Our land is the smallest of the three, while the humans live on the middle sized one.?
Vosae flattened her spines as she spun the globe around by the base. ?This is¡a fascinating creation, but it doesn¡¯t make sense,? she said suspiciously. ?It¡¯s not possible for them to have created this before their arrival, and they couldn¡¯t have known how to make this if they only arrived eighty days ago.?
?Someone would have seen them,? Manthk agreed, his eyes narrowed.
?The humans have tools called ¡®cameras¡¯ that can record sights,? Devotion explained as Fathom showed them the group photo. ?They used other tools to fly a camera up through the heavens and take pictures of the world below. That was how they learned about the existence of our land in the first place.?
Several of her clan flicked their spines, clearly skeptical at such an idea, while Vosae seemed more thoughtful.
?It¡¯s a ridiculous claim, and yet¡I suppose does explain everything very neatly,? Vosae said, her eyes returning to the ship. ?And they didn¡¯t fly here because¡they couldn¡¯t. Or at least, it was easier to send things on this metal shell of theirs.?
¡°She¡¯s fast,¡± Siebert muttered after hearing Pryce¡¯s translation.
¡°Must be why she''s the leader,¡± Pryce whispered back, and turned to Devotion. ¡°She¡¯s right, we could have flown someone here, but it would have been dangerous, and they wouldn¡¯t have been able to come back on their own.¡±
?Quite impressive,? Vosae rumbled. ?I imagine brewing alcohol must be a trivial thing for you humans, given all the tools you have at your disposal.?
¡°It is,¡± Siebert nodded. ¡°Humans have been brewing alcohol for thousands of years, and I hear it¡¯s your specialty. We could make an agreement to only trade alcohol with your clan, if you would like.¡± Seeing her reluctance, he added, ¡°You can try some, though we didn¡¯t bring any particularly good drinks with us.¡±
Gordon uncorked a bottle, then handed it over to Devotion, who offered it to Vosae. The clan leader stared at the proffered gift, but made no move to accept it.
?It¡¯s not poisoned,? Devotion said, pouring and swallowing a portion of the bottle¡¯s contents.
Vosae cautiously accepted the gift upon seeing this proof, but she only gave it a light tasting before handing it to Hakra, her expression unreadable. Her daughter had a more thoughtful expression on her face, but likewise passed it onto Manthk after a light sampling.
?Well¡? Manthk said, ?Let¡¯s say we believe those claims. This¡alliance you are proposing, what will it entail? That is the important part, after all.?
¡°We have tools, and we know how to create many things dragons cannot,¡± Pryce said. ¡°If you help us live on your land then we can teach you these things, and if you want to move to other lands, we can help with that too.¡±
?But it is not easy to traverse the ocean, is it?? Vosae asked, ?if it were, then the majority of the first group would not have died.?
¡°The second group had no problems crossing the ocean,¡± Siebert said. ¡°It would not be very difficult to help dragons travel across the ocean, if that is what you want; the first group was only very unlucky.¡±
?I see¡well, it is not a bad offer,? Vosae said, after a moment, ?But what would you have done if there was none of our kind to help you? Surely you have some means of defending yourselves against any predators??
¡°A clever way to ask about any weapons we might have,¡± Pryce added onto the end of his translation.
¡°We have ways of defending ourselves,¡± Siebert said, his hands clasped firmly behind his back. ¡°We do not need your help to survive, but it would make things much easier and safer for us if we received help from your kind.¡±
The clan stared at the humans with a dubious look in their eyes, clearly finding the claim quite skeptical. ?Surely they must be bluffing,? Hakra said, earning murmurs of agreement among her fellows. ?They look¡harmless, to say the least. How many of these humans live on their home land?? she asked.
?Fifty thousand thousand,? Devotion answered shortly, stunning both clan members and their allies who hadn¡¯t learned that piece of information yet.
?Fifty thousand¡thousand,? Hakra said, disbelief written across her face.
Vosae narrowed her eyes, then raised her head to its full imposing height. ?I believe I have heard enough to see the full story now,? she boomed, ?You humans are capable, and others will surely wish to trade and cooperate with you. That alone is not a bad thing, but you won¡¯t stop there, will you? You¡¯ll make yourselves useful, and sooner or later we¡¯ll end up reliant on you.¡± She chuffed, tossing her head. ¡°It¡¯s an old tactic, but it never fails.¡±
¡°What¡¯s she saying?¡± Siebert asked, sensing the change in tone even if he couldn¡¯t understand a word of her speech.
¡°She¡¯s talking about how much of a danger we are. Retreat to the ship,¡± Pryce murmured, and the humans gradually began to fall back towards the ship.
Devotion lowered her stance, and her webbed spines stood up menacingly. ?Get to the point,? she growled as the others began to tense up.
?Ghorrah-?, surely you are not so blind,? Vosae said reasonably, ?What could the humans possibly offer you, when their very existence threatens all of us??
?They have promised to do their best to heal Jooral¡¯s wing,? Devotion said flatly, which at least seemed to stun Vosae.
?And you believed them? With no proof whatsoever?? the clan leader asked incredulously.
Devotion snorted disdainfully. ?Of course not. They have already shown that they can heal lighter injuries, such as Huroumh¡¯s broken wing.? On cue, Fathom half-opened his wings to show their nearly flawless state ¨C a few odd scars were the only evidence that a malunion had ever been present.
?I see,? Vosae said grimly. ?And what about the rest of you?? she demanded. ?Are you really going to help these invaders infest our lands??
?The humans are offering to teach us much, and they have been generous,? Xylem growled, ?which is more than I can say about you.?
?You would kill such tiny creatures?? Kharno rumbled, her flight membranes sliding over her eyes in an implicit threat. ?I expected better from you, Vosae-?.?
?I am mainly here to help Jooral-? and Ghorrah-?,? Lakath said, ?but these humans have done no harm to us.?
?I wish to see the change that they will bring about,? Nanzo nodded.
?Don¡¯t bother trying to trick us,? Karoth hissed.
?We all know you¡¯re just afraid of losing your power,? his twin brother finished, cackling gleefully at the clan¡¯s furious expressions.
Vosae stared in disbelief as each of the allied dragons voiced their dismissals, with not a single one changing course. ?We outnumber you eighteen to twelve, to say nothing of your¡disabilities,? she said, her not-so-tactful statement earning bared teeth from Devotion and Nanzo. ?You can¡¯t seriously expect to win against us.?
?Sounds fair to me,? Fortitude laughed, her jaws parted in a wild grin. ?Ghorrah and I will just have to work a little harder. Isn¡¯t that right, my wings??
?Indeed,? Ghorrah snarled. ?It¡¯s been some time since we¡¯ve last had to teach a few upstarts their place.?
?So be it,? Vosae spat, clicking in disapproval as Icahna nervously padded forth to touch her mother''s side with a wingtip.
?Mother, are you sure that this is a good idea?? she asked meekly. ?I have a bad feeling about these humans. They have tools that can do so many things, what if they have powerful weapons we don''t know of??
?Doubtful,? Vosae snorted. ?They''d need not bother with these alliances if they had such weapons, and if they did¡? she crouched, narrowing her eyes. ?All the more reason to kill them now and scare off the would-be invaders.?
?But-?
?Enough, Icahna,? Vosae said, nudging her away. ?Icanam, keep her safe and take her somewhere away from here.?
Icahna glanced between her parents, then nodded and dashed to follow her father.
?Oh, one last thing,? Vosae said, then raised her head up to the sky to roar, ?You can come out now!?
Some distance away, hidden among the trees sat Ighnahr, his spines stretched to their fullest as he strained to pick up their conversation. He¡¯d had to sneak up upon the group on foot so as to remain undetected, so he¡¯d only caught the tail end of their conversation ¨C but even that was ridiculous.
?And you believed them? With no proof whatsoever??
Clearly the clan leader shared his sentiments.
?Of course not,? he then heard Ghorrah say. ?They have already shown that they can heal lighter injuries, such as Huroumh¡¯s broken wing.?
The murmurs of surprise that followed shocked him to his core ¨C Huroumh was healed? Completely healed? He almost fell over at the revelation, and only barely managed to halt himself.
For a moment Ighnahr was paralyzed, terrified at the prospect of facing a Huroumh who wasn¡¯t weakened, but in a state stronger than he¡¯d ever known.
Then he quashed down those feelings, determination flowing through his core. This didn¡¯t change anything. Huroumh couldn¡¯t have fully gotten used to his wing in such a short amount of time. Ighnahr had come close to winning before, and with his life on the line surely he would find a way to do it again.
Vosae¡¯s roar tore him from his thoughts ¨C it was the signal to reveal himself.
?Took you long enough,? he growled, masking his fear as he strode out from the cover of the forest. In that moment he had his first good look at the humans, their metal shell, and their allies that stood between them and the Brewer clan.
Then he saw Huroumh freeze.
?I knew it,? his old enemy hissed. ?You were with them all along.?
?Not exactly,? Ighnahr growled, ?They¡¯re here on their own business; I just need them as witnesses to prove that I was the one who killed you.?
?Getting ahead of yourself, aren¡¯t you?? Huroumh chuffed, and Ighnahr had to stifle a grimace as he saw the previously broken wing in perfect condition.
?I see,? Devotion snarled as she glared at Vosae. ?You never planned to work with the humans, did you??
?I¡¯d sincerely hoped to change your minds,? Vosae sighed, sounding surprisingly regretful to Ighnahr. ?At the very least, I¡¯d hoped to get these humans to volunteer more information, but a lizard in the den is a lizard caught, so to speak.? She stood up, joints popping as she straightened her neck.
In the calm before the storm, Vosae confidently delivered a final set of orders:
?Make these ¡®allies¡¯ see reason, but take care not to kill them. Once they¡¯re dealt with, we¡¯ll kill the humans.?
Chapter 64, Day 101: Eclipse, Part 2: Zenith
The moment Vosae roared her declaration the beach exploded into action, the wings of twenty-eight dragons kicking up a veritable storm of sand. All those present were experienced enough to hold their breaths as they ascended, though none of them had ever flown so close to so many others before.
A few grunts hissed through the sandstorm before morphing into cries of pain. Ighnahr ignored them and backwinged as quickly as possible to put some distance between himself and the crowd, and a few frantic glances around himself revealed that the clan members seemed to gain their bearings a little faster than the allies of the humans ¨C but an abrupt crack followed by a shriek of pain pierced through the falling sand, and Ighnahr caught a brief glance of Jooral standing over a fallen foe.
Several dragons could already be seen clawing away at one another, apparently deciding that ascending to a proper height wasn¡¯t worth the effort, but Ighnahr scanned past them to lock eyes with a certain blue dragon.
?I must admit, I¡¯m surprised that you¡¯d try and duel me now, when you were too much of a coward to do it before. Did your horns finally come in?? Huroumh taunted.
Ighnahr flapped his wings and gritted his teeth. ?I made a decision,? he hissed, ignoring the provocation.
?...is that so? Well, in any case, I have something to tell you,? Huroumh said, his voice raised above the din of battle. ?Your ¡®curse¡¯ doesn¡¯t exist. A human taught me that illness is caused by tiny creatures invading one¡¯s body.? Huroumh paused, and stared straight into Ighnahr¡¯s eyes. ?On the day that you made Ahnngyr sick, your claws were simply unclean. That¡¯s it.?
Ighnahr stared blankly, completely taken aback by this bizarre declaration. ?...What?? he tried to demand, though it came out more like a statement.
?I fell ill after our last fight,? Huroumh went on to say, ?I almost died¡at least until a human cured me with his medicine; that is how I know he was right about the true nature of illness.?
?I..why are you¡? Ighnahr stammered, completely taken aback by what he was hearing. ?What use is there in telling me these lies?!? he finally spat. ?You always were a fool, but I never thought you would ever resort to such tactics.?
Huroumh tossed his head, sighing in an audible huff. ?Well, I don¡¯t really care if you believe me or not; it¡¯s my idiot friend who convinced me that you should know at least this much. Now, are we going to fight or not??
Ighnahr took in a deep breath, and answered by throwing his wings back to lunge at his foe.
The instant the beach exploded into action Jooral lunged at the dragon closest to her ¨C an unfortunate fellow by the name of Woinam ¨C hooked her talons into his lower torso and dragged him back down to the ground. In a blink she had him pinned, and with a mighty wrench cleanly dislocated his shoulder. Given time Woinam might have been able to pop it back in, but he wouldn¡¯t be able to immediately fly again ¨C at least, not well enough to fight in the air.
?Yield,? Jooral demanded, twisting the dislocated limb when Woinam began to struggle. The teal male paused for a second, then nodded reluctantly, his limbs slumping in defeat.
?Jooral!?
The grey elder¡¯s head snapped up in time to see her partner hurtle another dragon towards the ground, with just enough time for her to leap up, catch her target with her talons and throw the unfortunate dragon down upon the beach.
The dragon ¨C whose name was Kalsak ¨C hit the beach with a muffled thud, her desperately flared wings failing to stop her descent due to the tears that ran along their sides, courtesy of Ghorrah. The impact only stunned her for a brief period of time, but it was enough for Jooral to stomp the wind out of her opponent¡¯s lungs with her own landing.
?Stay down,? she growled, though the wheezing dragon gave no indication of having heard her aside from curling up in pain. Above her, Ghorrah circled with Hakra and Manthk.
?I told those fools not to underestimate them,? Manthk groaned.
?I was reluctant to fight a foe so thoroughly outnumbered, but I suppose I need not have fretted,? Hakra rumbled.
?I¡¯ve not heard of such a large battle in living memory,? Manthk muttered, ?I don¡¯t suppose there¡¯s much sense in fighting one at a time, considering what¡¯s at stake.?
?Hear me!? Vosae roared as she climbed high into the sky, the clan leader flanked by Wonta and Takan. ?Stay cautious, let our numbers wear them down, and don¡¯t forget who we¡¯re dealing with!? Her orders tore through the sky, and the clan members immediately began to change tactics.
Ghorrah sighed. ?Well, I suppose we should be glad that we took out two before they smartened up. Jooral, get ready for the next ones!?
Helsha struck swiftly, tearing a gash through the left wing membrane of Mithan, the foolish dragon who had gone after him right at the start of battle. Such a blow delivered with dull talons would have merely pushed the wing membrane away, but his newly sharpened talons sliced through the normally durable tissue with ease.
Of course, anyone could sharpen their talons with the right stones available, and Mithan¡¯s glancing retaliatory strike confirmed his suspicion that the brewer clan had done exactly that. Still, the human tools made it possible to achieve greater heights of sharpness with very little difficulty, and it provided a not-insignificant advantage in their fight.
Now, with his foe¡¯s agility restricted by the injury, Helsha was able to dance just out of range of Mithan¡¯s not entirely uncoordinated swipes before capitalizing on any openings the frustrated dragon left behind. None of these attacks dealt major injuries, but each one only made the next easier to land, and his opponent was soon covered in wounds.
Helsha was just about to land a critical strike when he suddenly sensed someone above him, and immediately dropped like a stone ¨C just barely managing to evade another dragon¡¯s diving attack.
?I should¡¯ve known a proper one-on-one was too much to hope for,? Helsha hissed as he recovered some of his lost altitude.
?I¡¯m sorry, Helsha-?, but this conflict is beyond us,? his ambusher ¨C Opawi ¨C said as he nodded apologetically. ?The future of our land is at stake.?
?The humans are willing to hand us information that it took them millenia to collect,? Helsha growled. ?Don¡¯t bother with pretenses of nobility. You¡¯re simply trying to secure your stunted future by sabotaging our own.?
?The future of our clan and the future of our kind are not at odds,? Mithan hissed through gritted teeth, ?but I see that you will not be swayed. Prepare yourself.?
Helsha hadn¡¯t had time to put himself back on equal altitude with Mithan and Opawi, and so he could only fly forth and meet them as the two dragons dove straight at him. With no safe options left, Helsha backwinged right before meeting his two foes, then grabbed Mithan¡¯s left ankle with his own to yank the wounded dragon into the path of his ally.
Of course, Mithan didn¡¯t stare blankly as Helsha used him as a living shield; the green-blue dragon clawed at his foe in return, resulting in a ranking gash along the herbalist¡¯s left thigh.
Helsha had to bite back a hiss of pain, but instead of flinching he pressed the advantage by folding his wings and diving into the two dragons in an attempt to slam them onto the deck of the human ship.
His strategy had half-worked; Mithan could not escape Helsha¡¯s grasp, and he crashed back-first against the unyielding surface. The wounded dragon¡¯s head slammed into the deck, and his head and neck lolled limply before settling into place ¨C clearly unconscious.
Unfortunately he hadn¡¯t been able to secure his grip upon Opawi, who had wrenched himself free seconds before impact, allowing him to throw his wings open in the nick of time ¨C his tail skimming off the surface of the ocean before he pulled up and away.
Helsha spared a moment to glance around, and saw Lakath standing guard over a few of the defeated clan members, apparently ensuring that they wouldn¡¯t rejoin the fight. Above her, Nanzo scuffled against Untha, though even at a glance Helsha could tell that he fought in an oddly conservative manner ¨C as if he were unwilling to stray too far from Lakath.
?Lakath, watch this one,? Helsha called out as he heaved Mithan over the edge of the ship, the insensate dragon landing belly-up on the beach with a muffled thud. He didn¡¯t have time to acknowledge her reply, and had to leap back into the sky to face Opawi, who circled in the sky above with two more of his comrades.
Soon after the battle began the Twins found themselves facing Anzath and Igansa. The old couple were known for their formidable combat prowess, but the prospect of facing such a duo only fueled the Twins¡¯ excitement.
At present, Karoth and Anzath viciously grappled with one another, neither of the two dragons able to gain a significant advantage over their opponent ¨C both had one of the other''s forelimbs locked in their grasp, which reduced their battle to snapping and kicking while flapping against one another to remain in the air.
Neither dragon was able to see how their allies fared, but from what Karoth could hear it seemed his twin was faring better than he was.
?Stay still!? Igansa growled as her latest swing just barely nicked Yantha¡¯s scales.
?And what, let you tear my throat out? You must have smoke for brains!? Yantha cackled as he twisted around and delivered another swipe, the smaller male managing to land a superficial scratch along her offending forelimb.
Yantha might have had the upper hand for now, but they both knew that he''d only need to be caught once to be at Igansa¡¯s mercy.
?Scorch this,? Anzath growled, and that was the only warning Karoth received before the elder dragon folded his wings, dragging Karoth with him as the two began to plummet to the ground.
Karoth grunted as the wind hissed past his frills, adrenaline giving the younger dragon a momentary burst of strength to break free from Anzath¡¯s grasp.
But the elder dragon had swiftly oriented himself as they''d fallen, and with Karoth below him the only avenue of escape was downwards, towards the beach.
Karoth¡¯s feet slammed into the beach, a plume of sand exploding into the air. The impact rattled his bones and stunned him, but still he managed to throw himself to the side ¨C just in time, as Anzath came crashing down into the space he had just evacuated.
Of course, the elder didn''t give him time to rest, and lunged at him with a series of precise slashes and strikes that Karoth only partially managed to block or evade.
Karoth knew the onslaught of attacks wouldn''t stop unless he took a risk. He swiped wide and opened his jaws, ready to spew a jet of fire straight at Anzath ¨C only for a blinding fast blow to strike his muzzle, drawing four bloody lines across his face.
?Come now,? Anzath chuffed as Karoth reeled away. ?You''re going to have to be a little less predictable than that.?
Karoth grimaced, and blinked away a trickle of blood that entered his left eye. He wasn''t sure if Anzath was taunting, gloating, or just enjoying himself, but either way he knew that victory against this foe was unlikely. Judging by how outnumbered the allies were he doubted he could expect much help either.
?Would you like to return to the sky, or continue things on the ground?? Anzath went on to ask, his tone almost conversational if the slightest bit strained.
Karoth gritted his teeth, then took to the skies.
?Not bad,? Ashana said as she and Celeste returned to circling each other. The blood that dripped from minor wounds went unheeded by both dragons. ?You must be that shameless whelp who lives with Ghorrah-? and Jooral-?.?
?Please,? Celeste snorted derisively. ?I don¡¯t want to hear about the values of independence from someone born into a clan.?
?I was trained for my position from my hatching,? Ashana growled, ?Unlike you, a whelp who has only chased the strength of her betters.?
Celeste narrowed her eyes, then lunged to attack. Her first strike was knocked aside, and her foe immediately struck back with a counter ¨C only for Celeste to flip backwards and grab the outstretched forelimb with her hindclaw.
A look of surprise flashed across her opponent¡¯s face, and an instant later Celeste wrenched her opponent towards her with one leg while kicking her in the torso with the other, the powerful blow knocking the wind out of her chest.
Celeste watched as she plummeted through the air, but managed to re-open her wings and pull out of her fall ¨C though the success was short-lived, given that Celeste immediately drove her down into the beach, the combined weight of two dragons kicking up a cloud of dust and sand.
?I¡¯ve done more than chase them,? Celeste said, then sneezed as some dust got into her nostrils. ?Yield,? she demanded, holding her talons over Ashana¡¯s throat when her opponent stubbornly refused to yield.
Ashana hissed in pain, but her struggles ceased when the scales of her throat began to crack. ?I yield! I yield!? she gasped, and fell into a gasping heap when Celeste stepped off of her to survey her surroundings.
While her allies seemed to have done well at first, the numbers of the clan proved to be too great of an advantage. Ghorrah, Jooral, Helsha, and Kharno were their best fighters, and they were clearly starting to tire while the Brewer clan was clearly saving some fuel to burn. On the ground smoldered a few wayward streaks of flame, though it seemed that most combatants hadn¡¯t resorted to using their flame just yet.
Having spent a few moments to recover, Celeste leapt back into the skies to assist her allies.
Kharno expertly batted away a strike from Namtha, then kicked away Linthra before the dragon could snap her jaws around Kharno¡¯s neck. The three dragons flared out their wings as they regained their balance, and settled back into circling one another.
?Two at once? Really?? Kharno asked drily, though she noted that the two of them seemed uninclined to attack simultaneously.
?Apologies, Kharno-?,? Namtha said. ?But we know better than to underestimate you.?
?We do not wish to fight you,? Linthra implored, nursing her bruised chest, ?Would you please not consider stepping aside??
Kharno chuffed. ?You know I can¡¯t do that; these humans are far too interesting. Don¡¯t you want to see what else they can do? Don¡¯t you want to learn about an entirely new people??
?I am curious,? Namtha admitted, ?but satisfying idle curiosity is not worth the danger that they represent. We must win this battle, and neither of us will be able to defeat you alone.?
?Well then, I suppose I should be flattered,? Kharno grinned. ?But you two sure don¡¯t seem very enthusiastic; I thought you¡¯d be attacking together.?
?Defeat is not an option, but that does not mean we need to stoop to such levels,? Linthra said, frowning. ?It would be wrong to swarm you and give you no chance at winning.?
?A pity. It seems the time for talk really is over,? Kharno sighed, and bared her fangs. ?Now, let¡¯s continue.?
Ighnahr panted as he tried to ascend, every wingbeat a struggle. The multitude of shallow wounds that covered his body may have impeded his flight, but the pain they caused was nothing compared to the fact that Huroumh was completely unharmed, save for one shallow wound across his right shoulder.
?You know, this is getting really rotten,? Huroumh growled, calling out over the cacophony of battle. ?I was expecting a good fight after all that talk, but you¡¯re even more of a disappointment than usual. We could¡¯ve ended things a lot earlier if you¡¯d stopped being so skittish.?
Ighnahr tried to ignore the taunt as he focused on climbing back up to Huroumh¡¯s altitude. The moment he gained enough height he lunged forth, only to miss by a talon¡¯s breadth as Huroumh adroitly twisted about the attack, then lashed out with a retaliatory strike that Ighnahr just barely managed to evade ¨C but instead of pressing the attack or breaking away as he¡¯d done before, Ighnahr opened his jaws and spewed an arc of liquid flame at Huroumh¡
¡only for the blue dragon to fling himself backwards with a mighty heave of his wings, the gust generated by the maneuver also working to blow the burning stream away.
?You didn¡¯t really expect to hit me with such a sloppy attack, did you?? Huroumh sighed. ?Well, I would¡¯ve preferred giving you a chance to prove yourself before I killed you, but it looks like that just isn''t going to happen.? The blue dragon paused for a moment to survey the battle around them. ?If things were different, I''d humor you, but the others need my help.?
The moment Huroumh finished speaking he dove straight at Ighnahr. Given his injuries, the red dragon knew he¡¯d be unlikely to avoid the attack, which meant that his best chance at victory was to meet it head on. If Huroumh¡¯s restored agility made him hard to hit, then he''d just have to bring him to the ground.
So Ighnahr did the only thing he could, and swung his hind limbs forward to intercept the assault ¨C but he realized too late that Huroumh had anticipated this; the blue dragon flared his wings, slowing his descent just enough to evade Ighnahr¡¯s own move and seize Ighnahr¡¯s extended ankles with his hind claws.
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
Now trapped, Ighnahr could only bring up his foreclaws to defend himself, but his meager defense was quickly torn apart by Huroumh, who tore deep gouges across his chest and torso before kicking him down to the beach below.
The red dragon flared his wings, trying to fight through the pain burning throughout his body, but his torn shoulder and chest muscles screamed in agony before giving out, and he crashed into the ground.
There was an audible crack, and the redoubled agony momentarily incapacitated Ighnahr. Several seconds of blinding pain passed, and he weakly came to realize that something was wrong with his left wing. A tentative glance down his body showed the wrist of his wing bent at a sickening angle, snapped in two by the boulder he had struck at the end of his fall.
?Well, isn''t that fitting,? Huroumh snorted, landing nearby to watch as Ighnahr barely managed to push himself up, the red dragon¡¯s chest rapidly expanding and contracting as he tried to endure the pain.
?This¡isn¡¯t over,? Ighnahr hissed through gritted teeth, his legs trembling against his will.
?No, but it will be soon,? Huroumh said as he strode towards his fallen foe, but abruptly paused some distance away. ?...you know, I think I understand you a little better now, strangely enough.?
?What¡are you¡talking about?? Ighnahr wheezed through a fog of pain.
?The humans can fix broken bones,? Huroumh continued. ?Things are going to change. Eventually, everyone will know that you aren¡¯t cursed. Give up, and we¡¯ll end things between us here.?
?This again¡?? Ighnahr wheezed, his mind slowly clearing up. ?I am cursed. This is the undeniable truth. How else would you explain everything? You¡the humans¡one of you is lying.? He winced as he folded his wing across his back, quietly wheezed, ?¡I hurt you. Don¡¯t you want to kill me??
?You¡¯re too weak to kill,? Huroumh snorted. ?It wouldn¡¯t be¨C?
Somewhere on the beach, a cry of pain interrupted him, and Huroumh turned away, distracted. Through blurred vision, Ighnahr saw Takan fighting against Ahnoumh, with the younger female bleeding from a fresh wound. ?What a rotten fight this is,? Huroumh growled. ?Go, run like you always have. I have more important matters to deal with.?
With those last words Huroumh left to assist his daughter in her struggle against Takan, leaving Ighnahr broken and wheezing upon the burning sands.
Qnaoro was small, as dragons went. He''d never enjoyed combat as so many of his kind did, which was why he developed an interest in exploration in the first place.
?You need to learn how to defend yourself,? his parents had said when he was a youth, and this advice was echoed by nearly every dragon he had ever met ¨C even Helsha, who often shared his view on most points.
He''d thought by adopting a lifestyle such as his that he''d never have to fight, but now ¨C as he was being relentlessly pursued by Eosha ¨C Qnaoro was dearly wishing he had listened to advice given to him by so many others.
?Are we fighting or playing chase?!? an infuriated Eosha asked as he swiped at empty air. Even if he had no combat skills to speak of, Qnaoro was at least confident in his agility, and that was what had allowed him to remain untouched so thus far.
Suddenly, Eosha snapped open his jaws and Qnaoro dodged ¨C too late, he realized it was a feint, and had no way to dodge the stream of fire that struck his right wing.
The flammable oils splashed off the wing membranes of course, but not before painfully searing the thin flesh and sending him to the ground. Qnaoro barely managed to avoid a crash, but he had no time to avoid being bowled over by Eosha.
?Finally caught you,? Eosha hissed triumphantly as he pinned Qnaoro to the ground, some distance away from the ship.
Qnaoro desperately strained against Eosha¡¯s hold on him, but the larger dragon was simply too strong for him to break free.
?Don''t worry, a coward like you isn''t worth killing,?, Eosha growled. ?I''ll just make sure you won''t be able to interfere.? Eosha opened his jaws, and his head lunged forward to tear-
Suddenly, something slammed into Eosha¡¯s side, and Qnaoro was knocked across the ground along with Eosha and the newcomer.
Qnaoro quickly pulled himself clear of the scuffle, and he realized that standing over Eosha was none other than Helsha, who swiftly procured a surrender from the incapacitated dragon.
?You really should¡¯ve learned how to fight,? Helsha panted as blood dripped from various minor to moderate cuts across his body.
?You¡¯re hurt!? Qnaoro exclaimed, pushing himself to his feet.
?Really? I hadn¡¯t noticed,? Helsha snorted. ?Get up. Things aren''t going well. We need to do everything we can, else the humans will have to use their rifles.?
Qnaoro glanced around, and realized Helsha was right. At best they were all tired, and at worst¡well, Qnaoro wasn¡¯t sure where the twins were, but the fact that Anzath and Igansa had moved onto fighting a worn-out Ghorrah and Jooral didn¡¯t bode well for those two ¨C or any of them. On the ground, a bloody Lakath stood over an incapacitated Untha, with badly wounded Nanzo pushing himself to his feet a short distance away.
?Get ready, here comes Wonta,? Helsha growled, and the two of them leapt back into the sky.
?Impressive,? Igansa hissed through gritted teeth as she clashed against Ghorrah. Both dragons panted as blood dripped from the countless cuts and scrapes that decorated their bodies, but Igansa was fresher, and the incremental injuries Ghorrah had accumulated had eventually allowed the purple elder to drive her opponent into the ground, where their battle continued. ?To fight so well after defeating two opponents¡I am sorry that we fought on such uneven terms. I should have challenged you sooner.?
?I¡¯m¡not done yet,? Ghorrah growled, straining against her opponent to no avail.
?Hold on, Ghorrah!? Jooral cried as she bowled over Hakra, the two dragons struggling in the sand for superiority. She was certain to win, but Hakra was too skilled to allow herself to be defeated so easily.
?You¡¯ve done well, but it¡¯s time to accept defeat,? Igansa rumbled, pressing her talons against Ghorrah¡¯s throat. ?Yield.?
?It looks like¡I¡¯ve lost,? the grey elder huffed, ?but that doesn¡¯t mean¡you¡¯ve won.?
Igansa blinked. ?What are you¡??
?Look up.?
Igansa stared for a moment before raising her head, and was immediately bowled over by a roaring blur of a yellow dragon.
The sudden attack drew the attention of all the active combatants; dragons all over the beach twisted their heads about to see a second group of dragons descend from the skies.
?Enemies approaching!? Vosae roared, some distance away, ?Be on your guard!?
Jooral rolled over and pushed herself up in time to see Igansa kick away her rescuer ¨C a dragon she recognized as Eohmn, who had carved several deep wounds into the elder¡¯s side with her surprise attack.
The yellow dragon rolled with the strike and flipped over to land gracefully upon the ground. ?Hello, Jooral-?? Eohmn said, wheezing a little from the kick Igansa delivered to her chest. ?Looks like we arrived at a good time.?
?You¡¯re Callan¡¯s allies,? Jooral said with dawning realization. ?Did Sharnha bring you here? How did you arrive so soon??
?Yes, and we flew quickly,? Eohmn swiftly answered, throwing a glance up at the sky where her partner Yintra was engaging with Anzath. ?I can answer more questions later, let¡¯s win this first!? she roared, and lunged back at Igansa.
Helsha and Qnaoro fought well, but Wonta still managed to make steady progress in securing an advantage over them. The herbalist was too injured to fight as well as he could have, and so Qnaoro was forced to take risks he otherwise would have surely avoided.
?You can¡¯t keep running forever,? Wonta grunted as Qnaoro twisted away, blood seeping out of freshly inflicted wounds.
?Enemies approaching! Be on your guard!? Vosae roared.
?What?? Wonta exclaimed, and dove out of the way as another dragon shot through the space he¡¯d just occupied.
?Well, well,? Wakori said, sparing the ship a glance before returning her attention to her opponent. ?Looks like the humans were telling the truth after all.?
?...mother,? Qnaoro grumbled, nodding his head in thanks. ?Did Sharnha bring you here??
?He did, though young Iakahn helped too,? Wakori said absently as she surveyed the situation. ?It seems your allies have done well, though I¡¯d be surprised if you helped much. Well, we can talk about that later, once we finish dealing with these rotten fools,? she growled, and turned to face Wonta with bared teeth.
Celeste growled as she slashed at Takan, but the nimble dragon artfully dodged each of her attacks before landing another slash upon her forearm, causing the young female to wince in pain.
Celeste backwinged away as Takan lunged forward to press his advantage, but the azure dragon abruptly juked away ¨C just in time to avoid Fathom¡¯s diving slash.
?Go, help the others,? Fathom said to Celeste.
?But-?
?The others need your help,? Fathom growled. ?I can handle this one on my own.?
Celeste paused for a moment, but nodded before flying away with laborious wingbeats.
?A proper one-on-one, eh?? Takan said, grinning madly. ?Well then, show me what you got!?
The two dragons lunged at each other, feinting, dodging, and slashing away at each other. The battle was like night and day from his fight with Ighnahr, who had barely strained him at all.
At some unspoken signal the two dragons simultaneously broke apart and began circling one another, blood dripping from freshly torn wounds. Both had taken significant damage, but Fathom was forced to admit he was starting to regret having sent Celeste away to help the others. The older male was known as one of the Brewer clan¡¯s best, something substantiated by his position as one of Vosae¡¯s two guards.
?Not half bad,? Takan grunted as they clashed one more time, ?you¡¯re not the dying ember I expected.?
?How flattering,? Fathom hissed. They were just about to clash again when Vosae¡¯s warning tore through the skies, heralding the arrival of a familiar blue dragon.
?Vhaka-?,? Fathom panted.
?It¡¯s been some time, Huroumh-?,? Vhaka said, his old rival eyeing his straightened wing. ?And it seems like you picked a tough opponent.? He didn¡¯t explicitly offer his help, but Fathom knew that was just to avoid giving offense.
?Your assistance would be¡appreciated,? Fathom panted, a little surprised how ready he was to admit so, but the arrival of the allies had already begun to turn the tide of battle, and the disadvantage that the clan members found themselves at would make them all the more dangerous.
Vhaka blinked, but otherwise made no comment. ?Well, let¡¯s get started then,? he said, then called out to Takan, ?Apologies, normally I wouldn¡¯t gang up on a weakened foe, but it appears you¡¯ve had no such reservations.?
?Well, I can¡¯t say you¡¯re wrong,? Takan chuckled mirthlessly as he flexed his talons. ?At least this should be fun!? he roared, and flung himself at Fathom, clearly aiming to finish off his injured foe before focusing on Vhaka.
Fathom winged out of the way, but Takan twisted mid-air, lunging and catching him with a slash across the shoulder ¨C but not without receiving a glancing kick to the chest.
Takan coiled up for another strike, but was forced to dart away from Vhaka¡¯s quick slashes. Fathom pressed the attack, and by unspoken agreement the two of them began to alternate their attacks, slowly wearing their foe down.
?Shit!? Takan hissed as his new wounds began to slow him down. ?Ghorrah-? sure made this look easy,? he chuckled breathlessly as he began to lose elevation. The clan member suddenly shot up with a burst of energy, diving towards Fathom ¨C clearly intent on at least taking one foe down with him.
Fathom bared his fangs and braced for impact ¨C the two of them clashed in the air, then began to plummet to the ground. Fathom bit and tore at his foe, ignoring the injuries he gained in the process, and barely managed to wrench himself upwards before they crashed into the beach.
Takan, with his damaged wings, was forced to bear the brunt of the impact, which drove the air out of his lungs.
¡°Yield,¡± Fathom panted, standing triumphantly over his foe.
Takan wheezed as his lungs strained to bring in new air, but weakly nodded his surrender.
Satisfied, Fathom stepped away from his foe, trying to ignore how he shook from exhaustion and injury. A glance up at the sky showed Vhaka nodding his approval before darting off to face his next opponent.
Fathom glanced around, hoping for a moment to recover, but quickly realized that wasn¡¯t an option.
?What, still here?? Fathom coughed as he turned to face Ighnahr. ?I thought you¡¯d have fled by now.?
The rust-red dragon gritted his teeth, clearly still in pain from his broken wing, which was now at least folded against his side. ?I¡can¡¯t,? he hissed, quavering in an unseemly manner. ?Not this time.?
?I¡¯m going to kill you,? Fathom said neutrally. ?You know that, don¡¯t you??
?I¡don¡¯t want to die,? Ighnahr hissed. ?But¡more than that, I am tired. Tired of this wretched existence.? The wounded dragon took a step forward, flinched, then continued his advance. ?We¡¯re ending this now, and with your death, I¡¯ll finally be free.?
Fathom lowered his stance, his flight membranes sliding back over his eyes. ?Well, at least you¡¯ve finally found your resolve. Come now, and I¡¯ll give you a proper end.?
They stood motionless for a moment, the two dragons completely still despite the multitude of battles that raged around them.
Somewhere off to the side, a dragon crashed into the beach, and at the same moment Ighnahr shot forward.
Fathom ground his feet into the sand, anchoring himself as he prepared to meet his foe.
Ighnahr lashed out with his left foreclaw ¨C but Fathom expected the feint, and caught the red dragon¡¯s follow up strike in a crushing grip before slamming his free limb into his opponent¡¯s chest, opening up streaks of bright red upon his dark hide.
The red dragon reeled from the attack, though it didn¡¯t stop his swift retaliation from scoring the base of his foe¡¯s neck.
Fathom ignored the pain, and with his right arm dragged Ighnahr towards him to tear gouges across his throat. Ighnahr¡¯s pupils widened in pain, but Fathom knew the injury wasn¡¯t fatal. He batted away the red dragon¡¯s desperate attack, then he opened his jaws to tear-
Suddenly, a searing pain tore across his back, and Fathom instinctively flared his wings to flick off the liquid fire that pooled in his wing membranes, but in his moment of pain Ighnahr lunged forth and clamped his jaws around his throat, knocking Fathom over and pinning him to the ground.
Panic flashed through Fathom¡¯s veins when he found he could no longer breathe, and he released his grip on Ighnahr¡¯s forelimbs to desperately tear at his opponent in hopes of warding him off, but the red dragon had a death grip upon his neck. Their thrashing tails kicked up great plumes of sand as the two dragons twisted and writhed throughout their struggle, but no matter how hard Fathom kicked or how deeply he tore, Ighnahr refused to let go. The lack of air swiftly began to weaken him, and soon he found himself completely pinned beneath Ighnahr¡¯s limbs.
(Art by Bloov on discord)
Fathom¡¯s vision began to blur as the shallow scratches he carved into Ighnahr¡¯s scales dwindled into weak scrabbles. Thoughts began to flicker within his fading consciousness, memories of all that he had learnt in the past few months, and dreams of a future beyond any imagination. The things he had yet to learn, and the sights he had yet to see drove him to exhaust reserves he did not know he had, but all the determination and fear in the world could not overcome the simple fact that his brain was not receiving the oxygen it needed.
His parents would be disappointed, but at least Celeste would be fine, his waning mind thought incongruously. It had filled him with pride, to see her fight so well. Fathom was more worried about Pryce, but even that thought could only do so much to combat his rapidly diminishing strength.
In the end, the struggle had only aided Ighnahr¡¯s fangs in shearing through scale and hide, strengthening his grip. Now, with his foe unable to offer resistance Ighnahr planted his arms onto Fathom¡¯s chest. With all his might he pushed with his forelimbs, pulled with his neck, and tore.
The wrenching action yanked Fathom¡¯s neck and head off the ground as his fangs perforated the deeper layers of protective fat, digging into muscle and sinew. Blood began to ooze out from between his fangs, but the damage was not great enough to tear into the arteries.
Ighnahr¡¯s entire body screamed with pain, but Fathom abruptly redoubled his struggle to escape. Knowing he had mere moments left to guarantee victory the red dragon put everything he had left into one last heave, pulling Fathom¡¯s neck away from his body¡
Until a crack tore through the air.
Celeste clashed with Hakra, landing a few more strikes on the foe that Ghorrah had weakened. Still, Hakra was an old and experienced dragon, and it was only the training that Celeste had received from her mentors that allowed her to hold her own at all.
?Ghorrah-? has taught you well,? Hakra grunted. ?But I¡¯m not losing to some yearling.? The elder dragon lunged, feinted, then landed a slash against Celeste¡¯s flank, then lunged again-
A sharp crack shot through the air ¨C unmistakable as the sound of a rifle to Celeste, but Hakra flinched and winged away in alarm. All those engaged in combat immediately disengaged at the sound, their heads twisting to the source of the noise: on the nose of the ship stood Pryce, and in his arms a smoking rifle. She followed his line of sight, and saw Ighnahr standing over her father.
Celeste¡¯s eyes widened in alarm ¨C the last time she¡¯d seen her father he¡¯d already beaten Ighnahr and had taken over her fight with Takan. What could have happened in such a short amount of time? She stared as the rusted dragon raised a foreclaw to his neck, and it came away bright red with blood. He stood, staring for a moment, then crumpled like a fallen leaf.
The young dragon warily glanced back at her foe, and the baffled look upon Hakra¡¯s face reminded her that none of the brewer clan would know what that noise entailed. Celeste¡¯s eyes darted around the battlefield, and realized that none of the clan members seemed to have noticed Ighnahr¡¯s death, yet alone connected it to the crack of the rifle.
?Vosae! Stop! The humans will kill you!? Ghorrah roared. The elder was currently engaged with Ighnahr¡¯s mother, Igansa, and her warning cry made Celeste look up to see Vosae diving down towards the ship ¨C towards Pryce, who had just finished reloading the rifle.
?Hey, what-? Hakra barked as Celeste darted away to intercept the old dragon.
In an instant, every able member of the brewer clan dove towards the ship, while everyone else rushed to intercept them. Celeste winged on, ignoring the burning of her exhausted wings as she lunged to interpose herself between Pryce and Vosae.
?Out of my way!? Vosae roared, the clan leader¡¯s talons lashing out as she barreled down upon the younger dragon, who haphazardly warded off the slashes the instant before the two dragons slammed into one another, falling together as a knot of many limbs.
The impact immediately knocked the wind out of Celeste¡¯s lungs, and despite her best efforts her defense was completely torn apart by the more proficient combatant who had just begun to fight. Adrenaline fueled her desperate struggles, and she just barely broke free in time to crash feet first upon the deck of the ship, stunning her while Vosae merely landed with a heavy thud.
The crack of a rifle rang out from somewhere behind the ship¡¯s mast ¨C apparently a warning shot, as it did nothing to stop Vosae from lunging forth. Celeste forced her aching legs up, and the two dragons slammed into each other, their hindclaws digging into the paint of the deck.
She was no match for the larger and less exhausted elder, and she would have been swiftly overpowered if Fathom had not leapt over the edge of the bulwark and crashed down upon Vosae, blood from his neck splattering over the elder¡¯s hide as her father all but collapsed on top of their foe. The clumsy but effective assault knocked Vosae off-balance, allowing Celeste to wrestle the elder to the ground with the help of her father, but even that wasn¡¯t enough. Despite being pinned down by two dragons, Vosae still began to rise, ready to throw them both off ¨C but she¡¯d been slowed for a moment, and that was enough.
From the back of the ship sounded the crack of a rifle, and the curled tip of Vosae¡¯s left horn exploded.
The elder reeled from the injury, panic and recognition dawning in her eyes as she realized that those gunshots were attacks. One by one, the dragons in the sky ceased their battles as they too understood the situation.
?¡Why?? Vosae rumbled as blood dripped from her shattered horn. The elder was perfectly still, save for her eyes, which flicked upwards to the rest of the humans who stood some distance away, all with rifles raised, save for Scott who was reloading. Slowly, Vosae lowered her gaze back down to Pryce. ?Why did you not attack us from the start? Can you only use that weapon so many times??
Pryce raised the rifle and fired into the sky, causing the clan leader to flinch. He pointed at Ighnahr¡¯s corpse, and Vosae slowly turned her head to see what he was gesturing towards.
?¡bleed me dry,? Vosae quietly swore, the slightest quaver in her voice as she returned to face the human. ?Then¡if you hadn¡¯t intentionally missed your second attack, you could have killed me,? she said in growing realization. ?So why¡??
¡°Reiska,¡± Pryce said, his gaze unblinking as he kept his rifle trained upon the clan leader.
Vosae stared, her membranes blinking in bemusement. ?Is he¡saying ¡®proof¡¯?? she faintly asked.
?The humans do not wish to attack,? Celeste wheezed as she and her father slowly stepped off of Vosae. Now that the clan leader knew what the humans were capable of, the threat of the rifles kept her in place more securely than anything two of them could do. ?You were the ones who forced them to act,? she added, more than a little resentfully.
Vosae stood as she processed this, her eyes never leaving the humans that stood ready to attack. For several moments no one moved, save for the dragons who circled uncertainly in the sky above.
The clan leader hesitantly glanced at her followers, then back at the humans and their rifles. Her gaze hardened before she abruptly raised her head to the sky. ?Stand down!? she roared, causing the clan members to begin a gradual descent, followed by the wary allies. In the distance, more dragons approached ¨C likely slower dragons who had fallen behind the initial wave of Callan¡¯s allies. These did not go unnoticed by Vosae, who lowered her head as she turned to face Pryce properly. ?We¡yield,? she rumbled, suddenly looking very old.
¡°Fathom,¡± Pryce said, not yet lowering his rifle. ¡°Can you ask her to promise that she along with the rest of her clan will not attack us?¡±
Fathom opened his mouth to relay his request, but what came out was only a coughing wheeze. Celeste shot her father a concerned look, then translated Pryce¡¯s request in his stead which Vosae answered with a solemn nod.
The clan leader looked a little surprised by this, but she made no objection. ?¡I promise that my clan and I will not initiate any acts of aggression against you or your allies,? Vosae said, bowing her head with gravity. ?¡what do you intend to do now?? she asked, eyeing the humans warily.
¡°We will treat the wounds of our allies,¡± Pryce said. ¡°Do the same for yours. Everything else can come after that.¡±
Chapter 65, Day 101: Eclipse, Part 3: Totality
¡°Get the medical supplies!¡± Pryce snapped, sending half the crew back below deck. ¡°How¡¯s your neck? And your other injuries?¡± he asked urgently.
¡°Throat¡hurts¡¡± Fathom wheezed through stilted coughs, his less injured arm clenching the midsection of his throat. ¡°I¡will not die. Go¡see others first,¡± he rasped, not quite meeting Pryce¡¯s eyes as he gingerly sat himself down.
¡°After I stop the bleeding,¡± Pryce said, examining the wounds. Long trails of bright red blood trickled down Fathom¡¯s neck like a grisly scarf, but he was relieved to see blood seep out from under the dragon¡¯s talons at a slow and steady rate, which meant that no major arteries had been punctured.
¡°Here,¡± Callan panted as she set down and ripped open a box of bandages. Pryce muttered a thanks before pressing the dressing to the wounds, while Fathom slowly lifted his talons away before replacing them above the gauze.
¡°How are your other injuries?¡± Pryce asked, pacing around Fathom¡¯s body.
¡°Not bad,¡± Fathom hissed, wincing as Pryce pressed another bandage against a particularly deep cut on his thigh.
¡°Press down on this,¡± Pryce said, instructing the nearby crewmen as he tore off a piece of duct tape to keep the bandage in place. He swiftly placed several more bandages over the worst injuries before Fathom coughed pointedly. ¡°Go help¡others now,¡± he said, gingerly shifting to a more comfortable sitting position.
Pryce paused for a moment, and nodded when the bandages did not immediately soak through. ¡°Hold your head high to keep the blood from flowing out. I¡¯ll be back soon,¡± he said, and left to tend to the others.
Thankfully none of the allied dragons were in life-threatening condition, though Devotion, Xylem, and the twins had particularly severe injuries. Pryce worked together with Doctor Corbin and the rest of the crew, and over the course of the next few hours they triaged and treated the allied dragons¡¯ wounds to the best of their abilities.
When they ran out of bandages, they used sterilized cloth. When they ran out of sutures, they used sterilized sewing threads.
As they worked to patch the worst of the injuries, Pryce ordered the crew to give the dragons a small dose of the penicillin that he¡¯d synthesized over the last few months ¨C not enough to be a real dose, but to check for allergic reactions. If any infection took place, then they¡¯d need to know who could be given a dose without resulting in adverse effects.
A few of the allied dragons refused the treatment, as they were understandably wary of having foreign substances injected into their bodies, but most had agreed to the test, and those who did fortunately did not experience any allergic reactions.
¡°It looks like bleeding has mostly stopped,¡± Pryce said as he replaced the bandages. ¡°I¡¯m glad. Things could have easily been much worse.¡±
¡°His bite¡awkward position,¡± Fathom explained without looking at Pryce. ¡°His neck¡also wounded. He did not¡have full strength.¡±
¡°That¡¯s good,¡± Pryce said absently, unsure of how to breach the topic that was certainly on both of their minds. ¡°I know you wouldn¡¯t have wanted me to interrupt your fight,¡± he said abruptly, ¡°but this wasn¡¯t a proper duel, and then you were hit by that fire, and-¡±
Fathom slowly and gingerly shook his head, cutting Pryce off. ¡°You¡surprised me,¡± he wheezed, wincing a little as he pulled on his stitches. ¡°But I¡understand why you did¡what you did. I know you¡did not want to kill anyone. I am sorry¡that you had to, because of me. Thank you.¡±
Pryce pressed his lips into a thin line, and went to check on the next bandage.
¡°If I had killed him¡ The fight¡might have continued¡until someone else died¡so it is good¡that you did what you did,¡± Fathom wheezed. A glance back towards the beach showed a group of dragons inspecting Ighnahr¡¯s corpse ¨C or rather, the fatal injury he had received. ¡°It is a shame¡that we could not end things properly.¡±
?What a miserable display,? Igansa growled as Anzath examined Ighnahr¡¯s corpse. ?We should be doing something, anything other than standing around doing nothing. I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if those humans decided it was better to eliminate us after all.?
?The damage is much greater on the other side,? Anzath said gravely. ?It¡¯s almost like¡a very small rock was thrown at incredible speed. And those noises¡it was almost like that time we saw that falling star explode, wasn¡¯t it??
Igansa snorted. ?I would hardly call it the same thing¡but I do see your point,? she conceded, tossing a disdainful look at the corpse of her son. ?Well, if there¡¯s a white lining to all of this, it¡¯s that we won¡¯t be embarrassed any further by his inadequacy.?
?You know, if it wasn¡¯t for him, the humans probably would have targeted Vosae, or one of us,? Anzath said neutrally. ?Are you confident in surviving such a wound??
Igansa narrowed her eyes, and her silence was all the answer Anzath needed.
?What terrifying power,? Anzath sighed. ?We can¡¯t let them do as they please, but¡I don¡¯t know what we could do to stop them.?
?I don¡¯t like this at all,? Igansa growled, pacing restlessly. ?The only good thing is that they seem reluctant to resort to violence¡ At least, these ones are, but who knows what else they¡¯re hiding??
Anzath nodded gravely. ?It would be best to cooperate with them for now.?
¡°You went against the plan,¡± Captain Siebert said, stopping Pryce in the ship¡¯s corridors.
¡°I did,¡± Pryce said.
Captain Siebert sighed. ¡°I didn¡¯t think you were the type to act out on your own like that.¡± He paused for a moment, rubbing his temples. ¡°I haven¡¯t forgotten what you¡¯ve done for my family and gods know how many others, but I can¡¯t have anyone ignoring the chain of command, else we¡¯d have chaos. I¡¯ll overlook it just this once, but only this once, understand?¡±
¡°...understood, Captain.¡±
Siebert nodded, clapped him on the back, and continued down the hallway.
For a moment Pryce was still, then he continued on his way to take inventory of their remaining supplies.
?I suppose now is a good time to finally introduce ourselves,? said a dragon with matching blue eyes and hide. ?I am Wakori, Qnaoro¡¯s mother.?
Likewise, Iakahn, Vhaka, Yintra, Eohmn, Ungal, and Leonahr briefly introduced themselves. The latter two dragons had been recruited by Callan¡¯s allies, and so had never seen a human before.
¡°My name is Pryce, and thank you for your help.¡± Pryce nodded to Celeste who translated for him. With introductions done, Kharno took it upon herself to summarize the events that had transpired thus far.
¡°How are all of you feeling?¡± Pryce asked as Kharno prattled on.
¡°I am well,¡± Devotion said, wincing as Fortitude poked her side.
¡°No, you are not,¡± her partner insisted, ¡°Look at all those wounds.¡±
¡°It is not so bad,¡± Devotion grumbled. ¡°I could still fly, if I wanted to.¡±
?Don¡¯t. You. Dare,? Fortitude hissed, causing Devotion to bow her head in begrudging acquiescence.
¡±I will be okay,¡± Devotion said more honestly, then added with a note of pride, ¡°Jooral is barely wounded.¡±
¡°Only because you weakened them for me,¡± Fortitude said modestly. ¡°Ahnoumh, how are you feeling?¡±
¡°¡I am fine,¡± Celeste said, not rising from her curled up position.
¡°You did well,¡± Fathom grunted stiltedly, nudging her reassuringly. ¡°Very well¡against dragons¡much older than you.¡±
Celeste gave a noncommittal grumble, and scratched around the stitches on her shoulder.
?How are your wounds?? Fortitude asked Kharno, who had briefly paused her conversation with the others.
?Oh, I wasn¡¯t hurt much,? Kharno said, shrugging with her uninjured shoulder. ?Helsha-? is much more badly hurt, but he is well enough to ask about human medicine, so he should be fine. Oh, look, here comes that dragonet,? she said, glancing in the direction of the gathered clan members.
?Um¡hello,? Icahna said, nervously glancing around as she tried to decide on who to greet first. The dragonet stood at half the height of an adult, her head only coming up to Pryce¡¯s chest.
?What do you want, whelp?? Devotion asked.
?I¡um, saw that the humans have tools to help fix wounds,? the dragonet said uncertainly. She glanced back at her mother, who had not yet noticed her absence, then visibly gathered herself to ask in a rush, ?MyMotherHasAFangClotCanYouPleaseHealHer??
?Fang clot? That explains why she looks so terrible,? Fortitude said, her eyes widening slightly in realization. ?How long has she had it??
?A little over three years now,? Icahna said earnestly, ?it hurts her so much that she can¡¯t even sleep, even though she pretends that it¡¯s fine. I know she¡¯s attacked you, but she¡¯s just afraid of how weak she¡¯s grown.?
¡°She says Vosae has a fang¡ball?¡± Fortitude hesitantly translated. ¡°I am not sure how to translate this. It is a type of tooth problem.¡±
¡°A tooth problem¡?¡± Pryce asked. ¡°But I thought dragons could grow new teeth?¡±
¡°It is rare, but sometimes a tooth will get stuck, so new teeth cannot grow properly,¡± Fortitude explained. ¡°That is what Vosae has.¡±
¡°I don¡¯t see why we should bother helping her,¡± Celeste grumbled. ¡°Let her suffer; she chose to attack us first.¡±
¡°That is true, but we have nothing to gain from not helping her either.¡± Fortitude said thoughtfully. ¡°Her clan has many connections, and we are both weakened.¡±
?Icahna! What are you doing over there? Get back here!? Vosae ordered.
Icahna glanced nervously between her mother and the allied dragons. ?Please help her,? she murmured, then dashed back to her mother¡¯s side.
¡°It is your decision,¡± Fathom rasped. ¡°I would not offer to help her unless it is needed.¡±
¡°It is a tactically sound decision,¡± Captain Siebert said when Pryce explained what he¡¯d learnt. ¡°So long as they¡¯re willing to bury the hatchet, so to speak, but we ought to make the most out of the situation.¡±
¡°Why do you have to deal with these dragons who attacked us?¡± Scott asked. ¡°Why can¡¯t we deal with some other clan tomorrow when we invite that horde of dragons over here?¡±
¡°There are twenty dragons in the Brewer clan, the next largest clan only has twelve,¡± Fortitude said. ¡°They make alcohol, but they also trade things. Many dragons owe them favors, and they are easily the most powerful clan.¡± She paused for a moment, then added, ¡°This is a strange situation. Normally the stakes of a fight are determined before the fight begins. Pryce spared her clan in exchange for a promise that they will not attack unless attacked first, but this does not include what the clan must do for you as the victors.¡±
¡°Vosae mentioned fears that humans will gradually take control over all the land, and I can¡¯t honestly say her fears are unfounded,¡± Pryce said. ¡°I believe it would be better to build one settlement for now, else we¡¯d seem like invaders.¡±
¡°What about the¡operation itself? Can you two do it?¡± Callan asked, eyebrow raised. ¡°It¡¯s not like either of you are dentists.¡±
¡°It¡¯s just pulling out teeth,¡± Corbin snorted. ¡°I¡¯d wager that anyone here could do it; it¡¯s just a matter of doing it cleanly.¡±
¡°It should be quite doable,¡± Pryce agreed.
¡°Well¡so long as you¡¯re confident,¡± Callan said, casting an uneasy glance at the clan members.
?I acknowledge that you do not wish to harm us,? Vosae said, ?and we are grateful for your mercy, but that does not mean we can just allow thousands upon thousands of humans to live in our homes.?
¡°We can agree to limit the number of humans on the island at a time,¡± Captain Siebert offered. While this was hardly an ideal arrangement, the hope was that in time dragons would grow used to humans, and eventually agree to a greater human presence.
?They have avoided killing you at great cost to us, their allies,? Devotion added onto her translation. ?The humans need a place to build their things, and your territory would be an ideal place for them to live, considering that the southern tip of the island is the closest to the far land. I think allowing them such use of your home would hardly be an unfair reparation ¨C unless you believe your lives are worth so little.?
?Please, don¡¯t patronize me,? Vosae growled, ?If they lived with us then they might as well have joined our clan. Their business would become our business, and we¡¯d be forced to support them fully. Surely you don¡¯t consider that to be ¡®a little reparation¡¯.?
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?Are you not afraid that the humans will render your clan obsolete? An alliance with them would nullify such fears.?
?If they are as capable as I fear then they would usurp us anyway, alliance or no.?
Back and forth the elders went, making little progress over the course of several minutes. Finally, Devotion ran out of patience. ?We know about your ¡®problem¡¯. If you lend us your support, the humans could try and remove your problem teeth.?
?What ¨C how did you¡?!? Vosae stammered, then turned to glare murder at a quailing dragonet. ?Icahna,? she growled.
?I just thought¡that they could help you¡?? Icahna suggested meekly.
For a moment Vosae seemed ready to berate the dragonet, but after a moment¡¯s consideration ¨C possibly to avoid further embarrassment to the clan ¨C she closed her mouth. ?We are going to have a very long talk after this,? she growled before turning back to Devotion. ?And you. What, did you think I was just going to let them poke around in my mouth?? She spoke with her usual denigrating tone, but with the slightest bit less confidence than before.
?I¡¯ve heard of individuals who¡¯ve ended their lives over such pain,? Devotion grinned, ?It must be difficult, having to manage a clan while suffering so.?
?I don¡¯t need your help,? Vosae growled. ?I have a responsibility to my clan. You think I¡¯m going to tear off our wings just to relieve a little of my own pain??
?Far from it,? Devotion snorted, ?You know you don¡¯t have the power to stop the humans. They are willing to help you, and to let you act as an intermediary between them and everyone else. It seems to me that the choice is obvious.?
Anzath made a clicking noise, then stepped forward. ?It is better to keep an enemy near than to have one afar. I believe you should accept their terms,? he said, with his partner nodding in agreement.
?Easy for you to say when you aren¡¯t the one bearing the cost.? Vosae huffed.
?If the humans wanted to harm us then they would have already done so, instead of suggesting this roundabout method,? Hakra murmured. ?I think you should let them help you, mother.?
?I don¡¯t like them either,? Manthk grumbled, ?but if they can help you I think we should take the risk. If we cannot stop them, then it is better to have them work for us than against us.?
This sentiment was soon echoed by the other clan members, causing Vosae to finally hesitate.
?...if I agreed to this, what would it entail?? Vosae slowly asked.
?The humans would extract the teeth with their tools,? Fortitude explained. ?They have medicine that can numb the pain, but it needs to be¡¡®squeezed¡¯ into your flesh.?
Vosae narrowed her eyes, silently weighing her options. ?...fine,? she sighed, ?but no medicine; I can handle the pain. How long will it take??
?Depends on how bad your teeth are,? Devotion shrugged. ?First, the humans will need to perform an inspection.?
?What is that?? Vosae asked warily.
¡°It''s called a fluoroscope, it¡¯s a machine that lets us see bones and teeth using x-rays,¡± Pryce explained. ¡°In the same way that normal light can pass through ice but not rock, x-rays can pass through flesh but not bones or teeth. Since it passes through flesh, we can see which teeth are out of place ¨C those ones will be the ones that are causing you pain.¡±
?You¡¯re going to¡¡¯see¡¯ my bones?? Vosae asked incredulously.
?I don¡¯t understand it either,? Fortitude shrugged. ?I think it might be easier to see how it works than to listen to their explanations. All you need to do is to put your jaw into that box.?
Vosae stared at the odd box skeptically, but begrudgingly did as she was instructed, fitting her lower jaw into the cavity meant for a human torso while her upper jaw hovered over the outside of the device.
¡°Can¡¯t see anything at medium power,¡± Corbin muttered. ¡°Not surprising. Turning it up¡and¡there. Wait.¡± He paused, rubbed his eyes, and brought his eyes back to the eyepieces. ¡°That¡can¡¯t be right. Doctor Pryce, could you take a look and tell me what you think?¡±
?Are they done yet? What are they saying?? Vosae asked awkwardly.
?They seem surprised,? Devotion said. ¡°Is something wrong?¡±
Pryce glanced into the eyepieces, then stared. ¡°The angle isn¡¯t great, but¡is that mass there nothing but teeth?¡±
¡°There¡¯s no other explanation,¡± Corbin said grimly as Fortitude nudged Pryce out of the way for her turn. ¡°How is she functioning? There has to be at least three teeth stuck in one socket!¡±
As they discussed what to do next, the other dragons began looking through the fluoroscope to get a look for themselves.
?Oh, I really can see your bones and teeth!? Fortitude exclaimed, and moved out of the way for Devotion to take a glance ¨C which didn¡¯t last long, considering all the dragons present were visibly curious.
?Amazing, you can see someone¡¯s insides without killing them,? Leonahr rumbled, having nearly bowled over Celeste for a turn.
?Did you have to bring her, of all dragons?? Sharnha hissed to Wakori.
?She¡¯s strong, and she¡¯d do anything to get her hands on some human tools,? Wakori rumbled back. ?There¡¯s no reason to shun her help just because she¡¯s a little eccentric.?
?It¡¯s more than just a little,? Sharnha grumbled, looking torn between shuffling away from the dragon in question and taking a turn to look through the fluoroscope. ?I¡¯ve heard she duels others just so she can cut open their corpses and study their insides. Are you sure she won¡¯t do the same with a human? Or one of us?? He asked, his eyes wide with fear.
?I already told her that humans have extensive knowledge of their own anatomy, of course,? Wakori sighed in exasperation. ?So there¡¯s no reason for her to do that at all.?
Meanwhile, Vosae rumbled in annoyance, clearly uncomfortable from holding her head at such an awkward level. ?...can I see it?? she asked, half-expectantly, half-irritably.
¡°You can¡¯t see your own teeth,¡± Pryce said. ¡°You can see someone else¡¯s if they took your place, but now it¡¯s time for the operation¡unless you¡¯ve changed your mind.¡±
?They¡¯re telling the truth, I can see your bones move along with you,? Hakra said in amazement.
?...very well, let¡¯s get this over with,? Vosae growled.
¡°I¡¯m not putting my hands in there,¡± Doctor Corbin said, eyeing Vosae¡¯s sharp and serrated teeth warily. ¡°Can she bite on a tree to keep her mouth open?¡±
?I¡¯m not going to bite a tree,? Vosae growled, but was eventually persuaded to allow her jaws to be propped open with wooden plank.
¡°Last chance not to use anesthesia,¡± Corbin warned. Vosae hissed her refusal, and he sighed before reaching into her gums.
To her credit, she barely flinched at the probing, and only began to fidget when his pliers clamped onto the first tooth. Pryce thought about asking if she wanted a countdown, but Corbin ripped out the tooth before he could say a word.
The clan leader¡¯s nictitating membranes snapped shut, apparently an instinctive response to the pain, but otherwise she hardly reacted.
¡°Tough one, aren¡¯t ya?¡± Corbin muttered, dropping the malformed tooth into a pan. ¡°The next ones are too deep to reach, I¡¯ll need to make a few incisions.¡±
Devotion echoed his words with perhaps a little more smugness than was necessary, but Vosae only grunted in acknowledgement, the wooden plank between her jaws creaking under the increased strain.
Not three, not four, but five dental fragments were removed from Vosae¡¯s lower jaw by the time the operation was complete. The infection and inflammation of the gums made it a difficult job, but it was nothing that Corbin could not handle with Pryce¡¯s support. With all the dental fragments and putrefied flesh cleaned away, the only thing left to do was to simply wash the empty socket with antibiotic solution before allowing the wound to clot.
?...Are they done?? Vosae asked weakly, the elder dragon¡¯s chest rising and falling at a higher rate than normal.
?Yes, you can get up now,? Devotion said, watching as Vosae rose to her feet, the elder appearing rather unsteady.
?How do you feel?? Icahna asked, her concern having only risen throughout the operation along with the pain that her mother could not quite hide.
?I feel¡strange,? Vosae said faintly. ?The pain is gone, and my mind¡feels so clear, like I¡¯ve finally flown out of a cloud.?
?Your mouth is still bleeding. Does it not hurt? What about your horn?? Hakra said, eyeing her mother with concern.
?Of course it does,? Vosae said distractedly. ?But the pain is nothing compared to before.? The elder stared at the humans, an indecipherable expression in her eyes.
¡°Feeling better?¡± Corbin asked, the doctor eyeing the clan leader warily as Fortitude translated for him.
?¡Yes, I am,? Vosae said, her head lightly tilted at an almost awkward angle. ?Thank you.?
¡°Just don¡¯t try to kill us again and I¡¯ll be happy,¡± Corbin grumbled. ¡°...now that I think about it, you didn¡¯t bring anything with you to trade, did you?¡±
?¡No,? Vosae said, slowly shaking her head as she received the translation. ?We did not bring anything with us, but¡I will be sure to thank you properly, should you be among the humans who live in our territory.?
?He said he¡¯ll be looking forward to it,? Fortitude translated, causing Vosae to nod in acceptance.
?What are they doing now?? The clan leader asked, noticing the commotion taking place upon the ship.
?According to the humans¡it¡¯s almost time for the eclipse,? Fortitude said as the crew began passing around glasses. ?Predicting an eclipse sounds ridiculous, but at this point I¡¯m inclined to believe their claims. Oh, apparently these are to protect one¡¯s eyes from the sun,? she said, and examined a pair of eclipse glasses skeptically ¨C it did not look like it would fit on a dragon¡¯s muzzle as it would a human¡¯s face. After a moment¡¯s puzzlement she simply held the contraption over her left eye.
?The humans are saying that the eclipse actually started about fifty beats ago,? Fortitude said. ?But of course, the start of the eclipse is rather difficult to see.?
¡°I can see it fairly clearly now,¡± Gordon said as he looked through a telescope designed to observe the eclipse. ¡°Should be visible through the glasses at any moment now.¡±
¡°Oh, I see it!¡± Callan said, looking at the sun through the eclipse glasses, and her observation was soon echoed by the rest of the crew.
Murmurs of excitement ran through the crew ¨C the last total eclipse that the Mainland experienced had occurred 61 years ago, before any of them had been born.
¡°Have any of you seen a total eclipse before?¡± Callan asked. ¡°Not just a partial one, but one where the moon fully covers the sun, and the sky turns black.¡±
¡°I have not,¡± Fathom said, wincing as he accidently tried to shake his head.
¡°Two times,¡± Devotion said, with Fortitude nodding in agreement. ¡°I look forward to seeing this third one, but there is something else we need to do,¡± she said, turning to face Anzath and Igansa.
?You want his corpse?? Igansa asked incredulously. ?Whatever for??
?The humans are not familiar with our bodies, which means that we must remedy that before they attempt to fix Jooral¡¯s wing,? Devotion explained. ?Naturally, that requires a corpse.?
?Well, he certainly doesn¡¯t deserve a funeral pyre,? Igansa snorted. ?Go ahead, do whatever you want with it.?
Anzath was silent for a moment as he casted a regretful glance at Ighnahr. ?It is within your right as the victor,? he said, turning away.
?Excellent,? Leonahr said, surprising Devotion. ?I¡¯m ready to offer my assistance. When can we begin??
¡°Be careful around that dragon,¡± Celeste murmured to Pryce. ¡°She is known for witnessing duels so that she can examine the loser¡¯s corpse. Sometimes she even duels dragons herself. Her knowledge should be useful, but be careful around her. Pryce, are you listening?¡±
¡°...hmm? Oh, yes, be careful of her,¡± Pryce said distractedly.
¡°Are you okay?¡± Celeste asked, her head tilted. ¡°I thought you would want to learn about our biology.¡±
¡°I¡¯m fine, just tired,¡± Pryce sighed. ¡°Yes, you¡¯re right. We need¡practice for fixing Fortitude¡¯s wing, but we don¡¯t have the time to study him right now. The ship has a large fridge ¨C a fridge is a cold room that keeps things from rotting. We¡¯ll store his body there for now.¡±
¡°Very well,¡± Devotion rumbled, eyeing him austerely. ¡°But do not forget our promise.¡±
?Oh,? Leonahr said, sounding quite disappointed. ?Are you sure you would not like to study the corpse now, while it is fresh?? she asked hopefully.
?No, I would rather he take the time to do it properly; we cannot expect to have a reliable source of bodies to study,? Devotion said, ?and it is true that we must prepare for the Solstice tomorrow.?
No one spoke in the minutes before totality. Even the animals in the nearby forest fell completely silent as the sky darkened further and further, until the moon completely eclipsed the sun.
At that moment, the sky turned black, and suddenly the brightest stars could be seen winking in the sky.
¡°Amazing,¡± Fathom breathlessly murmured as he lowered the eclipse-viewing glasses. ¡°One day I¡¯m going to learn how to predict a solar eclipse.¡±
?Does¡something feel like it¡¯s¡wrong?? Celeste asked, taking her eyes off the eclipse to glance around uncertainly.
?No, that¡¯s normal, it happened the last two times too,? Fortitude said reassuringly, not taking her eyes off the eclipse itself. ¡±I wonder when will be the next time I get to see an eclipse.¡±
¡°About two years from now, on the south end of the island,¡± Gordon answered, without looking away from his telescope and camera ¨C he was one of the crew responsible for taking photographs of the event.
¡°Oh,¡± Fortitude said. ¡°...it feels less special when you know when and where they will happen.¡±
Gordon shrugged, and shifted his attention back to his camera.
¡°What are you doing? Is it not better to appreciate the eclipse?¡± Fortitude asked.
¡°We¡¯re trying to confirm something that general relativity predicts,¡± Gordon answered automatically, then paused. ¡°You don¡¯t know what general relativity is, do you?¡±
¡°No, I do not.¡±
¡°It¡¯s complicated, and I¡¯m not a scientist, but the basic idea is that very heavy things can cause light to bend,¡± Captain Siebert explained. ¡°That includes light from the stars. Thanks to the eclipse we can record the position of the stars around the sun. A month or two from now we can record the real positions of those stars, and by comparing the two we can calculate how much the sun has caused the light from those stars to bend. You can have one of the scientists explain it when the eclipse is over,¡± he said, seeing the dragons tilt their heads in confusion.
The totality lasted an impressive five minutes, and the end came like a veil lifting over the sky, and the stars were once again shrouded by the brilliance of the sun.
¡°That was impressive, wasn¡¯t it?¡± Fathom asked, glancing down at Pryce.
¡°Yes¡yes it was,¡± Pryce said, still staring at the eclipse through his glasses.
?I¡¯m hungry,? Icahna abruptly said, breaking the serious atmosphere. ?Can I go hunting?? the dragonet asked, turning to her mother.
?Yes, but go with the others,? Vosae said, calling out the least injured dragons while Fortitude decided to do the same with the allies. ?Go with them, and make sure to bring back enough for everyone. And Icahna,? the clan leader said, stopping the dragonet before she could flutter off. Vosae extended a wing, affectionately patting the half-grown dragonet on her head. ?I¡¯m glad I brought you along. You did well today. Thank you.?
Icahna blinked, apparently surprised by the gesture, but parted her jaws in a wide grin. ?I told you so!? she said smugly, and energetically flapped off to hunt with the others.
¡°There you are,¡± Callan said, popping her head into the med bay. ¡°I¡¯ve wanted to chat, now that no one¡¯s dying. So, how are things?¡±
¡°Some of their injuries were bad, but they were manageable,¡± Pryce said. ¡°Xylem and Devotion have it the worst, but I imagine they¡¯ll be healed in a month or so, if Fathom¡¯s rate of healing is any indication.¡±
¡°I already knew that. I was asking about you,¡± Callan said, sighing in exasperation.
Pryce stared for a moment, then sighed. ¡°I don¡¯t know. I killed someone, and no one seems to care. Well, Fathom does, but¡you know how dragons are like. He doesn¡¯t really understand, he¡¯s just sorry I had to do something I didn¡¯t want to do.¡± He ran his fingers through his hair, brushing free the loose gray strands. ¡°I¡¯m not even sure if I feel guilt over what I¡¯ve done, or if I just¡feel guilt over not feeling guilt.¡±
¡°...well, I haven¡¯t killed anyone before, so I can¡¯t say I sympathize,¡± Callan said, after a moment. ¡°But the way I see it, you just wanted to save your friend, didn¡¯t you? In fact, now that I think about it¡you didn¡¯t ask for help because you didn¡¯t want anyone else to do the dirty work, did you?¡± she asked, and smiled faintly upon seeing his reaction.
Pryce looked away, not quite meeting her eyes. ¡°That was part of it. Fathom is a dear friend, and it is true that I would¡do almost anything to prevent his death, but¡¡± He paused, uncertain if he should continue. ¡°This was no act of passion. I knew Pathogen was shunned by the other dragons, and I knew he would not be missed, so I used him as an example; to show the brewer clan that they could not win, and to force them to surrender.¡±
Callan did not immediately respond, and only eyed him silently. ¡°You¡¯ve clearly put a lot of thought into this,¡± she said after a moment. ¡°And you¡¯ve done that because you wanted to cause the least harm possible, right? I don¡¯t see how being calculating about that would make you any more unethical. Quite the opposite, really.¡±
¡°That¡¯s¡a good point,¡± Pryce admitted. ¡°...I¡¯ll think about what you said. Thank you.¡±
¡°You¡¯re welcome,¡± Callan said warmly. ¡°Now, go get some rest; we got a horde of dragons to deal with tomorrow.¡±
JOURNAL ENTRY
Day 101,
Today I
Pryce stared blankly at the journal, his pen frozen at the start of the sentence.
The words simply refused to come.
After a full minute he tore the page out of the journal. Throwing the crumpled page into the garbage, he climbed into bed for a deep and restless sleep.
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 ¨C 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 ¨C 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-?.? 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 ¨C 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 ¨C 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-?,¡± 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-?; I¡¯m glad that no one gave you much trouble.?
?Uyrikes,? Vosae said tersely. ?Greetings.?
?Vosae-?! 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-?! 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 ¨C 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-?, 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¡¯ ¨C 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 ¨C 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 ¨C 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-? and Jooral-?. You have potential; don¡¯t squander it.?
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?¡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 ¨C 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 ¨C 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 ¨C 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 ¨C 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 ¨C 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 ¨C 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 ¨C 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 ¨C 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 ¨C 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 ¨C 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 ¨C 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 ¨C Fathom noted most of them were on the younger side ¨C 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 ¨C 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 ¨C who happened to Celeste ¨C 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 ¨C 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.¡±
Chapter 67, Day 103 – 108: Preparations
[Day 104]
Pryce stepped onto the beach early in the morning, and was surprised to see a red dragon talking to Celeste. The two of them turned to face him as they noticed his arrival, giving him the impression that they were waiting for him.
¡°Oh¡er¡good morning?¡± Pryce said uncertainly, and looked to Celeste for an explanation.
¡°His name is Ungal ¨C he is one of Aurum¡¯s allies,¡± she said. ¡°He woke me up early and asked if humans had any animals that they were¡the closest term is ¡®friendly with¡¯,¡± she said, grumbling sleepily.
¡°We have a few,¡± Pryce said, looking up at Ungal. ¡°Some are used for protection, or to help hunt, but that was mostly in the past. Why do you ask?¡±
?I see¡that makes sense, seeing as how small you are,? Ungal said, rumbling thoughtfully as he heard Celeste¡¯s translation. ?Yes, you might have powerful weapons, but Jooral-? did say you have poor senses, and needed our help to survive on our land.?
¡°You sound like you have a solution to this,¡± Pryce said, eyebrow raised.
?Yes, at least of sorts,? Ungal said, scratching his neck in a somewhat nervous manner. ?The way I see it, this land is dangerous, and we couldn¡¯t protect a thousand humans even if we tried our best¡which means you need more help.?
?Will you just get to the point?? Celeste asked, groaning in exasperation.
?The point is that I have raised some animals that will be of interest to you,? Ungal hissed quietly. ?I¡¯ve been doing it for a few generations now, and they¡¯ve grown noticeably tamer over time. I think they would be quite useful if raised as hatchlings around humans.?
?But what are they?? Celeste growled, her wings shifting with agitation.
¡°Yes, I feel like that¡¯s important information,¡± Pryce agreed.
?They¡¯re¡ah¡? Ungal looked away, then lowered his head to quietly admit, ?They¡¯re raptors.?
?What.? Celeste said. ?Are you saying that you¡¯re raising raptors like hatchlings?!?
?Quiet!? Ungal hissed, glancing around to ensure that no one else had awoken. ?I spared some eggs on a whim, and they turned out to be surprisingly useful, so I collected more eggs until I had a group of them. Some of the more rebellious ones left on their own, but the ones who stayed made more eggs. And it¡¯s not as bad as it sounds; these raptors fight their normal siblings!?
?You¡are you suggesting that you want to replace raptors with ¡®good¡¯ ones?? Celeste asked, drawing her head back incredulously. ?That¡¯s never going to work!?
?I don¡¯t need to replace them entirely; I¡¯m just saying that they can be useful, especially to humans,? Ungal said, gesturing to Pryce.
¡°It¡¯s not a bad idea,¡± Pryce admitted, ¡°though we¡¯d have to see if it works, of course.¡±
?See? The human thinks it¡¯s a good idea,? Ungal chuffed.
?Hmph,? Celeste grumbled. ?What, so you¡¯re going to give them a few raptor eggs in exchange for¡what? Human tools??
?I haven¡¯t seen everything that they can do yet; how am I supposed to know what I want?? Ungal asked, tossing his head dismissively. ?We can talk about payment later. I need to go home now, but I¡¯ll come find you when you return to live with the Brewer clan, will that work??
?He says that will be acceptable,? Celeste translated, earning a nod from Ungal.
?Very well. Till we meet again,? the red dragon said, and made a small gesture of farewell with his wing before flying off to the south.
¡°He is a weird one,¡± Celeste grumbled as she laid back down. ¡°Wake me up if something interesting happens.¡±
?You have to tell him,? Helsha said, startling Qnaoro. ?I can see why you would want to wait until things have settled down, but if you won¡¯t tell him then I will.?
?I know, I know,? Qnaoro grumbled. ?I was just waiting for the right moment,? he muttered as he walked up to Fathom, who was currently having his wounds examined by Pryce.
¡°It hurts a bit less than it did yesterday,¡± Fathom said, as Pryce took note of the progress of his injuries. ¡°I will be mostly healed in a month. Might be able to fly soon after that.¡±
¡°Sailing back to the Mainland will take ten days,¡± Pryce said, frowning. ¡°Which means by the time we get back home you still won¡¯t be able to fly for another half a month. Assuming we leave in a few days,¡± he added.
¡°I know,¡± Fathom said, rumbling sullenly. ¡°Urgh. We wouldn¡¯t have to deal with this if those clanned idiots hadn¡¯t hit me with that stupid stream of fire.¡± He paused, then turned to eye Qnaoro as the golden dragon approached. ¡°Oh, it¡¯s you. What do you want?¡±
?Oh¡well¡? Qnaoro stammered as he cursed his luck. ?There¡¯s something I wanted to tell you. You might have seen Wonta chasing me towards the end of the fight¡?
?I saw some of that,? Fathom chuffed. ?That was embarrassing. Did you even try to fight back??
?Well¡I did,? Qnaoro said, not at all meeting Fathom¡¯s eyes. ?I tried to spit fire at him, but he dodged, and¡it turned out that you were behind him.?
Fathom¡¯s eyes widened, then he shot up to his feet despite Pryce¡¯s protests. ?You.?
?It was an accident!? Qnaoro protested as he shrank back, though he ultimately stood his ground.
?Do you think I¡¯m an idiot?? Fathom hissed. ?Of all the dragons you ¡®accidentally¡¯ hit, it just so happens to be me ¨C the only one of us you have reason to want dead.?
Pryce had been trying to pacify Fathom until now, but he froze as the dragon spat out his accusation.
?What are you talking about? I don¡¯t want you dead!? Qnaoro shot back. ?What reason could I possibly have to try and kill you??
?What reason? Were you not the one who whined about being the first to go to the Mainland?? Fathom spat.
Qnaoro froze, belatedly realizing that such an interpretation seemed rather sensible from an outside perspective. ?Oh,? he said, wilting. ?I¡hadn¡¯t¡thought of it that way,? he admitted gracelessly.
Several moments passed as the blue dragon silently glared at him. Qnaoro abruptly became aware of the silence that fell over the beach ¨C a consequence of their argument. Even without looking he could sense tens of stares curiously watching their stand-off.
¡°What¡¯s wrong? Hey! What¡¯s going on?¡± Callan called out as she hurried over, the geologist having been some distance away when the argument started.
¡°Aurum just confessed to having been the one to hit Fathom with a stream of fire,¡± Pryce said with a tight-lipped expression.
¡°What? Why did you do that?¡±
¡°It was an accident!¡± Qnaoro repeated, a little exasperated, ¡°I was fighting Wonta! Laishaka, you trust me, right?¡±
¡°If he says it¡¯s an accident, then I believe him,¡± Callan said, turning to Pryce. ¡°He doesn¡¯t like fighting or conflict. Sure exploring is important to him, but he wouldn¡¯t get someone killed over it.¡±
?He has my support as well,? Helsha said, though he couldn¡¯t have understood much of their speech. ?He¡could afford to better himself in several regards, but he would not attempt something as underhanded as that; I''d bet my life on it.?
Fathom gave no indication that he heard these testimonies; he only continued to glare at Qnaoro.
?...fine,? Fathom snorted after a long, pregnant pause. ?I¡¯ll believe that it wasn¡¯t intentional, but we¡¯ll settle this properly later.? He turned around as he said his piece, and limped away to sit towards the ship, facing away from Qnaoro.
?I appreciate your support,? Qnaoro said, sighing in relief, ?but did you have to word it like that?? he asked, side-eyeing Callan and Helsha. The former shrugged apologetically, while the latter merely snorted.
?Am I wrong?? the herbalist asked, head tilted in challenge.
Qnaoro looked away. ?¡No,? he admitted after a moment¡¯s consideration. ?You are right. I am complacent, but I¡¯ll be going to the Mainland soon, so I don¡¯t see how I¡¯ll have the opportunity to start training, unless you¡¯ll be coming along with us,? he asked hopefully.
?No,? Helsha said firmly, tossing his head. ?I¡¯m curious about human knowledge and tools, but I¡¯d rather stay home. Besides,? he added, ?someone needs to take care of my plants, and I¡¯m the only one who I trust to do so.?
?I see,? Qnaoro said, disappointed. ?How¡ are you going to take care of your plants?? he asked, eyeing the herbalist¡¯s rather heavy injuries.
?I¡¯ll figure something out,? he said, sitting back down with a pained grunt. ?I can always pay some youngling to go and water them until I am recovered.?
¡°I suppose now it¡¯s time to iron out the details,¡± Callan said, crossing her arms.
Qnaoro tilted his head, blinking curiously at the idiom, ¡°Is ¡®iron out¡¯ an expression referring to refining things like how iron is refined?¡±
¡°That¡¯s¡a pretty good guess, actually, but no. There¡¯s a tool called an iron that helps smooth out clothes.¡±
Qnaoro stared. ¡°Is¡making clothes smooth very important? Why does this tool have the same name as the metal?¡±
¡°Well¡not very important,¡± Callan said, scratching her head. ¡±Huh. Never really thought about that, but it does make it sound more important than it is. Anyway, let¡¯s go talk to Fortitude, since everyone seems to listen to her.¡±
¡°Not yet,¡± Pryce said, hand raised abortively. ¡°There¡¯s something we have to do first before we can make a proper decision.¡±
?Are you finally ready?? Leonahr asked as she gnawed upon a bone.
¡°Yes. We¡¯ll be beginning soon,¡± Pryce said, answering with Celeste as an intermediary. ¡°Are you ready to start?¡±
?Yes,? Leonahr said, standing up to toss the bone into the ocean. ?How much do humans know about human bodies?? she asked, head tilted.
¡°Humans have studied our bodies for thousands of years, but we¡¯ve only made real progress in the last few hundred,¡± Pryce answered, frowning. ¡°How many bodies have you¡examined?¡±
?Six,? Leonahr answered plainly. ?How many have you examined?? she asked, peering closely at Pryce.
¡°Well¡I¡¯m not sure what you¡¯d count as ¡®examine¡¯, but if you include people I¡¯ve done surgery on then it¡¯s¡well, a lot more than six,¡± Pryce sighed. ¡°Just so you know, most of what you think you know about your body is probably wrong,¡± he added.
Leonahr cocked her head. ?Do I not have two wings, two arms, and two legs??
¡°Well¡yes, but I¡¯m referring to the function of your internal organs. No one really understood the purpose of most organs until fairly recently.¡±
?Oh. Are you sure about that?? Leonahr asked skeptically. ?We are very different from each other, so I do not see how you could know much about our bodies, even if you do know your own.?
¡°Haven¡¯t you noticed that most animals have similar looking insides? They don¡¯t just look the same, they do the same things as well, because all bodies need to do the same things.¡±
?Hmm. I hadn¡¯t thought of it like that,? Leonahr said, bobbing her head interestedly. ?I mostly study the structure of hide, muscles, and tendons to better my understanding of the physical body. Organs are very confusing, and most of them have no effect on one¡¯s physical appearance, so I never bothered learning anything about them other than their shape and location.?
¡°She examines bodies to make better carvings, so she is less interested in studying internal organs,¡± Celeste said, adding onto her translation.
¡°That¡¯s fine, I¡¯ll take all the help I can get,¡± Pryce said. ¡°One last question: have you ever examined any bodies with half-healed, broken wings?¡±
?Once. The injury was much worse than hers,? Leonahr said, gesturing to Fortitude. ?The dragon had been starving before she died, because she could barely hunt,? she added, not appearing very troubled.
Pryce raised his eyebrow at the unexpected answer. ¡°Were you the one who killed her?¡± he asked, eyes narrowed.
?Yes,? Leonahr said, with that same neutral tone. After a moment she seemed to realize that her answer was insufficient. ?Her name was Sillia, and she sought me out to offer a trade; if I gave her an honorable death, then took care of her egg until it* grew to an adult, then I would be allowed to examine Sillia¡¯s corpse.?
*Dragons have a specific pronoun for eggs ¨C something between ¡®it¡¯ and ¡®they¡¯.
¡°I see,¡± Pryce said, simultaneously a little relieved and a little perturbed. ¡°But why you? Why not anyone else?¡±
Leonahr shifted her wings in a subtle shrug. ?She likely wanted the hatchling¡¯s parent to be indebted to her, and of course I fulfilled my end of the promise. I had no desire to be a mother, but it was a very interesting experience. Silona matured well; it is a shame she did not decide to come to the Plateau this year.?
¡°I see,¡± Pryce said. ¡°Please come with me; I¡¯ll need your help examining Fortitude¡¯s wing.¡±
¡°Like this?¡± Fortitude asked, lifting up her left wing. She sat as low to the ground as possible, allowing Pryce to inspect the hide that surrounded her malunion.
¡°Yes, thank you,¡± Pryce said, measuring the location of the scarred wound, which was about 30 centimeters above the shoulder of her wing. ¡°Does it hurt?¡±
¡°Only if I move it in the wrong way,¡± Fortitude said, shrugging with her other wing. ¡°I can try to fly, but my left wing is too weak to stay in the air, and it can¡¯t move as much as my healthy one. The best I can do is glide a little.¡±
?Scarring isn¡¯t heavy, but more than I¡¯d have expected given how old it is,? Leonahr half-muttered to herself. ?Either way, the bent bone is a much larger concern than any scarred flesh.?
?Truly, what an insightful analysis,? Fortitude said, quipping sarcastically before turning back to Pryce. ¡°Will Pathogen¡¯s body let you fix my wing sooner?¡±
¡°Sooner, yes, but not yet. I¡¯m going to use Pathogen¡¯s wing as practice by pretending that it¡¯s yours ¨C that will help me learn what to do, but we won¡¯t be able to make tools suitable for performing surgery on dragons until we go back to the Mainland. It would be extremely reckless to try now, when we can improve our chances by doing it later.¡±
¡°...are you going to do that practice today?¡± Fortitude asked.
¡°Yes, I was just checking your injury so I know where to cut Pathogen¡¯s wing.¡±
¡°We will watch,¡± Devotion said, somewhat abruptly. ¡°There is no reason why we cannot do this, is there?¡±
¡°Of course you can, but there won¡¯t be much space,¡± Pryce warned.
Devotion snorted dismissively, tossing her head. ¡°That is not a concern.¡±
Pryce and Corbin ran through the checklist of the surgical equipment they¡¯d gathered, the tools encircling Pathogen¡¯s body in an almost ritualistic manner. Whoever had dragged the corpse into the cargo hold clearly hadn¡¯t given it much consideration; the cadaver laid upon its side, its limbs splayed out at awkward angles.
The blood had long since drained from the dragon¡¯s body along with his life, and the once rusted coloration of his hide had darkened into a shade resembling a dried wapel leaf.
The cargo hold was a few degrees cooler than the outside air, and no visible decomposition had occurred within the last two days, but that wouldn¡¯t be the case for long.
?It¡¯s good that you¡¯re starting now,? Leonahr said. ?The body already smells faintly of rot. A day or two longer and I wouldn¡¯t want to touch it.?
¡°Understood,¡± Pryce said, turning to face the others.
¡°Do not worry. We will not interfere,¡± Devotion said, while Fortitude examined the surgical tools with great interest ¨C and maybe a little apprehension, though that could¡¯ve been Pryce¡¯s imagination.
¡°Celeste, are you comfortable being here?¡± he asked, seeing the young dragon staring intently at Pathogen¡¯s corpse.
¡°No, the cargo hold floor is hard and the air is a bit¡dead?¡± Celeste said, stumbling uncertainly over the translation. The windows and doors had been closed and covered up, so as to prevent any prying eyes from observing the procedure, and lightbulbs had been set up to light up the hold.
The heat given off by the lightbulbs and four living dragons was unfortunately quite tangible, and it would only get worse over the course of the day.
¡°I meant to ask if dissecting this body will make you uncomfortable,¡± Pryce clarified, wiping his brow.
¡°No?¡± Celeste replied uncertainly. ¡°Why would I be uncomfortable? I see dead things every day.¡±
¡°But this is a dragon. Isn¡¯t that different?¡±
¡°A little,¡± Celeste said, flattening her spines, ¡°but he killed my mother. Why would I be uncomfortable seeing him cut open?¡±
¡°I¡suppose that makes sense,¡± Pryce said, a little surprised at her vehemence, though he supposed it wasn¡¯t unwarranted. He glanced back at the cadaver ¨C the corpse appeared oddly deflated, which he assumed was due to the evacuation of the internal air sacs. The most notable thing about the corpse was of course the fatal exit wound upon the neck, where the bullet had torn through vital arteries.
The dim lighting further reduced the coloration of the dragon¡¯s hide, and for a moment he saw Fathom lying in Pathogen¡¯s place, lifeless and unmoving.
If that had happened, then¡he would have had to¡
Well, it had not.
Pathogen¡¯s death was still senseless, but at that moment, in some way that he could not describe, Pryce¡¯s heart felt the slightest bit lighter.
¡°Well, I think the preparations are complete. Doctor Corbin, are you ready to begin?¡±
Pryce and Corbin had both decided that they should start with the right wing, which was the obvious choice for experimentation, seeing as they¡¯d be using the left for the ¡®real¡¯ practice run.
Leonahr¡¯s knowledge in musculature had indeed proved quite thorough, though the usefulness of her aid was greatly diminished by Celeste¡¯s translation, despite her best efforts. Ultimately, the decision to use the right wing for practice turned out to have been a sound choice, as the surgery had gone so poorly that it hardly deserved such a term, and it did not inspire much confidence in their audience.
They took a break before starting on the remaining wing, and used the time to teach Leonahr a bit of English so that she could direct them with her words as well as her talons. This resulted in a far more successful second attempt, though there was still much room for improvement.
¡°That one went much better,¡± Fortitude noted as Pryce started on the sewing process. ¡°Do you think that would have worked for me?¡±
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± Pryce sighed tiredly. ¡°There is a small chance it could work, but I¡¯m still not going to do surgery on you yet. It¡¯s too risky, and I could easily make it worse. Once we have the tools, then I¡¯ll consider it.¡±
¡°Seconded,¡± Corbin added. ¡°That means I agree,¡± he added, having gotten used to clarifying less literal terms.
¡°Rrrgh,¡± Fortitude abruptly growled, surprising Pryce. ¡°Apologies. I know you said it might take ten years, and it should be easy to only wait a few more, but I am feeling¡¡±
¡°If you¡¯re trying to say ?impatient?, then it¡¯s ¡®impatient¡¯,¡± Celeste offered.
¡°Impatient, yes,¡± Fortitude huffed, nodding her thanks. ¡°I have not had a reason to feel like this in a long time.¡±
¡°I agree with Pryce,¡± Devotion said, surprising the humans. ?I will not risk making your wing worse, and this process is not safe enough.?
?So fixing my wing in the near future is out of consideration,? Fortitude sighed. ¡°Which means that¡hrmph, I¡¯m tired. Let us talk about this tomorrow morning.¡±
¡°Agreed,¡± Pryce said, rubbing his eyes. ¡°We have much to talk about tomorrow.¡±
[Day 105]
¡°Good morning,¡± Pryce said as Fathom sluggishly blinked awake.
¡°Good morning,¡± Fathom rumbled. ¡°How did the surgery go?¡±
¡°It went well, but I¡¯m not confident in fixing Fortitude¡¯s wing yet,¡± Pryce sighed. ¡°It¡¯s not as easy as fixing yours. There¡¯s so much muscle near the injury that I have to work around. I do have ideas about what kind of tools we¡¯d need,¡± he added, ¡°though I might have to check with veterinarians ¨C I imagine they have tools to work on large animals. Might need to make modifications for use on dragons, but it¡¯s certainly better than using construction tools.¡±
¡°Makes sense,¡± Fathom yawned. ¡°Was there something you wanted to talk about?¡±
¡°It¡¯s time to decide who to bring to the Mainland. I just wanted to talk to you before everyone else,¡± Pryce said, nodding his head towards Celeste and the others who were in the process of gathering their allies. Callan, Siebert, and a few other crewmen emerged from the cargo hold as he spoke, ready to attend the meeting.
¡°I see,¡± Fathom murmured. ¡°I¡¯m going, and so is that yellow idiot¡how many of us can you bring to the Mainland?¡±
¡°If you can eat a lot here and sleep for most of the journey, then the limit on the number of dragons we can bring with us is rather high,¡± Siebert said. ¡°What we should be worried about is how many individuals we should bring. Too many would likely make things¡difficult.¡±
¡°That is very true,¡± Fathom rumbled, gingerly tilting his head in thought. ¡°We might have to think about who will be best to work with, and who will cause the least issues on your Mainland.¡±
¡°Right¡let¡¯s see how many want to go to the Mainland in the first place,¡± Pryce said, sitting down as their allies began to gather. ¡°Fortitude, are you coming with us?¡±
¡°Would things be easier if I went to the Mainland?¡± Fortitude asked. ¡°You would not need to bring your surgery tools here.¡±
¡°No,¡± Devotion said sharply. ¡°We are not going to the Mainland.¡±
?I know it¡¯s dangerous,? Fortitude said, swapping to her native tongue for ease of communication, ?but you know it¡¯s important to establish ties with the humans ¨C we can¡¯t do that on the opposite side of the world.?
?We can go later, but not now,? Devotion said patiently. ?Not until we know it¡¯s safe.?
?I would think that it¡¯s safer to go now instead of later,? Fortitude stressed, ?we don¡¯t know what¡¯s going to happen, but we should be doing everything that we can to secure our future.?
?That¡is sensible,? Devotion admitted in uncharacteristically quiet tones. ?But I still don¡¯t think we should go. All it takes is one human with a rifle to kill one of us, and if that happens, I¡I can¡¯t protect you.?
The two of them paused as she finished, with Fortitude¡¯s spines flattened in consideration.
?Alright, then we won¡¯t go,? she shrugged, nudging her partner affectionately. ?How about the next ship, after the others have deemed it safe? Would that be alright??
?That would be acceptable,? Devotion said, nodding in relief.
?So you two aren¡¯t going then,? Aurum rumbled. ?It would have been nice to have a few elders with us, but it can¡¯t be helped.?
?I¡¯d thought you two would be coming along,? Fathom said, flattening his spines as he glanced at Aurum and Celeste. ?So that leaves the three of us who are definitely going-?
?About that¡? Celeste said, her eyes darting between Devotion and the ship. ?I¡don¡¯t think I¡¯m going.?
?What?!? Fathom asked, then winced as he pulled on his injured neck. ?Why not?!?
?Devotion is wounded, I need to stay and help them,? Celeste said, though she was clearly torn on the decision. ?I can¡¯t just leave when they need my ¨C ? She reeled back as Devotion abruptly rose and smacked her on the head with the palm of her wing. ?OW! What was that for???
?You think we need your help?? Devotion hissed, glaring down at the younger dragon who kept her head lowered meekly. ?We have relied upon each other for over four centuries, and we certainly aren¡¯t going to die without the help of a fledgling adult like yourself.?
Celeste¡¯s eyes widened. ?Then that means¡??
?What she is trying to say is that you owe us nothing, so do whatever you want,? Fortitude chuffed, bumping her partner on the shoulder with a wing. ?You¡¯ve long since been an adult, after all, and capable beyond your years. Just learn lots of things for me, alright? I will expect you to help me catch up on-?
Celeste suddenly stepped forward, and wrapped both of the elders in a hug, surprising the both of them.
?Thank you for everything.?
?Yes, yes, that¡¯s enough of that,? Devotion snorted, though she did not move to step away. ?We still need to decide who else is going to go.?
?I can fit the role of elder, assuming no one older than I is going,? Kharno said cheerily. Pryce thought it seemed a little forced, somehow, though he didn¡¯t bother to comment on it.
?I am not going,? Xylem shrugged. ?I have my plants to take care of.?
?I am curious about your Mainland, but I don¡¯t think I would be a very good candidate,? Echo said. ?It¡¯s not like I can appreciate the supposedly beautiful things that your kind can create,? she added a little plaintively.
?I will go if you require my help,? Nanzo said neutrally. ?Though I imagine others will be more inclined to go than I am.?
?I imagine everything on your island is taken?? Yantha asked, rumbling prospectively.
¡°That¡¯s about right,¡± Callan said, which Celeste translated.
?We want our own land,? Yantha clarified. ?So long as you uphold your end of the bargain, I don¡¯t see much reason to go to this Mainland of yours ¨C unless you wish to trade more of your creations for our help,? he added hintingly.
¡°Let¡¯s see how many want to go first,¡± Pryce replied, turning to those who had not yet answered. ¡°Anyone else?¡±
?Me! I want to go!? Iakahn said, her head held up high.
?Aren¡¯t you a bit young?? Fathom asked, head tilted rather skeptically. He glanced down at the odd seashell-necklace she wore. It was a strange thing to wear, though the shells were surprisingly large and well-polished, which made them admittedly quite pretty by his pre-Pryce standards. ?What¡did you do, again??
?I¡¯m the one who gathered all of Qnaoro¡¯s allies!? Iakahn hissed indignantly. ?Which means I¡¯m the reason why we arrived as quickly as we did!?
?She¡¯s right,? Wakori rumbled. ?She didn¡¯t do much in the actual battle-? Iakahn snorted disdainfully at this addition, ?-but she does have remarkable foresight for one her age.?
?See?? Iakahn huffed. ?And besides, she¡¯s going,? gesturing towards Celeste, ?so why can¡¯t I??
?I¡¯ll vouch for her,? Aurum said, before anyone else could interrupt. ?She¡¯s clever, and she deserves the opportunity to come with us.?
¡°Alright, that¡¯s five,¡± Callan said, scribbling down the names of those who wanted to go, and showing Siebert ¨C who was understandably rather lost at this point. ¡°Anyone else want to go?¡±
A few overlapping negatives confirmed that none of the other allies wished to leave their homeland for one reason or another ¨C Leonahr was curious, but deigned to stay for the same reasons as Devotion.
Pryce strongly suspected that the others felt similarly, though they did not say it. There was a moment at the end of the battle where the allies less familiar with the humans had seemed quite wary of this bizarre and terrifying weapon, and he hadn¡¯t blamed them for it at all.
?What¡¯s going on?? Vosae asked as she padded over, with Hakra and Icahna trailing beside her. ?I assume you¡¯re discussing something important.?
?Only who to bring along to the Mainland,? Fortitude shrugged before narrowing her eyes. ?...you don¡¯t want to go, do you??
?Skies, of course not,? Vosae chuffed. ?But seeing as we¡¯re allies with the humans now, I would like you to take Hakra with you, to act as my stand-in.?
Hakra stepped forward at the mention of her name, nodding cordially at the allies.
Pryce understood the gist of her sentence, though he still waited for Celeste to translate the finer points for him. ¡°Sensible. We¡¯d need someone who knows your territory to make our preparations, so her aid will be appreciated.¡±
?Good,? Vosae nodded. ?Another thing; if you are willing, then I would also like for you to take Icahna with you.?
¡°Your dragonet?¡± Pryce asked, surprised. ¡°You¡¯re okay with sending her away?¡±
?I know it is dangerous, but she has proven herself useful, and this is what she wants to do,? Vosae explained. ?But more importantly, Hakra will watch over her.?
Their conversation had attracted the attention of several others, including Eoiras. ?I¡¯m not sure if that¡¯s a good idea,? the ancient dragon said as he eyed Icahna skeptically.
?It¡might be,? Fortitude said uncertainly. ?Some of the humans seem understandably wary of our size. She is small enough to be more approachable.?
?I suppose that is true,? Eoiras hummed, tilting his head at the dragonet. ?Why do you want to come with them, little one??
?I¡want to see what humans are like,? Icahna said, slowly but with certainty, ?and I will never see their homes if I stay here.?
?Well, I suppose that¡¯s as good a reason as any,? Eoiras sighed. ?I just hope you know what you¡¯re doing. Make the wrong decisions, and a lot of people will end up dead.?
?We¡¯re well aware of that,? Fortitude said dryly. ¡°Well? What do you think?¡± she asked, turning to the humans.
¡°It is a sensible idea,¡± Siebert said when he received a translation. ¡°It couldn¡¯t hurt to bring a child with us ¨C I have read that ambassadors used to do that sort of thing to show that they mean no harm.
¡°Too bad we couldn¡¯t have brought that hatchling back with us,¡± Gordon chuckled. ¡°He would¡¯ve done well to melt a few hearts.¡±
¡°No parents would allow that,¡± Celeste snorted, tossing her head. ¡°Icahna is old enough to survive on her own. Kerak is not. And what does ¡®done well to melt a few hearts¡¯ mean?¡±
¡°I was just joking,¡± Gordon huffed, ¡°and that¡¯s just a way of saying many people would find him cute.¡±
¡°Oh.¡±
¡°The important thing is that we have seven dragons who are confirmed to come with us,¡± Callan said, scribbling down their names. ¡°Which means we have some preparations to make regarding food.¡±
¡°I can hunt in the ocean if I need to,¡± Aurum said helpfully.
?You hunt in the ocean?!? Celeste demanded, her eyes widened in surprise.
?I spend a lot of time flying over the ocean. Being able to hunt in it increases my range, and reduces the amount of time I have to spend flying back and forth,? Aurum said plainly. ?It is not so dangerous, if you know what you are doing,? he added, seeing as this had not lessened her shock, and Pryce noted that even Devotion and Fortitude seemed surprised by this.
?And here I thought you were a coward,? Devotion snorted. ?If you can muster the courage to hunt in the ocean then why can¡¯t you fight??
?It¡¯s simple,? Aurum snorted. ?One is something I want to do, the other is not. I don¡¯t see why people have such a hard time understanding this.?
¡°Well¡let¡¯s try to avoid diving into the ocean,¡± Callan said placatingly. ¡°No reason to risk it when we can just store more food on the ship, and speaking of; I¡¯ll need those of you who are healthy to go hunting ¨C we¡¯ll salt the meat and store it so you can eat it on the way home.¡±
¡°Hunting is much more difficult with so many others around,¡± Aurum sighed. ¡°How many days until we leave?¡±
¡°The dissection will take at least a few days,¡± Pryce answered. ¡°Probably closer to five.¡±
¡°That should be enough time,¡± Aurum nodded. ¡°So we are leaving when we have enough food, and when Pryce is done with this ¡®dissection¡¯, right?¡±
¡°That¡¯s right,¡± Callan nodded.
¡°And we have to talk to all the new people who come flying,¡± Fortitude sighed, referring to the dragons who had heard second-hand about the group of humans, their ship, and had come flying over with great interest. A few dragons were indignant over the abolition of the rule of one thousand, but Fortitude was persuasive, and there was little anyone could do to reverse the decision.
¡°Thank you for your help,¡± Pryce said, not for the first time. ¡°We couldn¡¯t have done this without you.¡±
¡°Yes, yes,¡± Fortitude said, waving him off. ¡°If you want to thank me then get to work. I will handle the others who come asking questions.¡±
[JOURNAL ENTRY]
Day 104,
Today we decided to bring home the seven following dragons:
-Fathom
-Aurum
-Celeste
-Kharno
-Iakahn
-Hakra (Brewer clan representative)
-Icahna (Brewer clan representative)
Siebert and Callan are coordinating the dragons to stockpile food for the journey, while Fortitude and Devotion handle the newcomers. The rest of the crew have their hands full showing dragons human technology, though Kharno has made herself popular by offering rides whenever they have free time.
As for me, I¡¯ve spent the rest of the day working through the dissection with Doctor Corbin ¨C journal entries will be neglected until the completion of this task.
[Day 105]
?Nothing like this has ever happened before,? Hanron said as he peered through a glass mug, the crystalline material distorting his eye in an almost comical way.
?You think I don¡¯t know that?? Fathom snorted, resisting the urge to toss his head ¨C mostly because of his wounded neck.
?I know you know it, but I don¡¯t think you quite understand it,? said his father as he set down the glass. ?Nothing of this magnitude has happened. Ever. And you¡¯re wrapped up in the middle of it all.? He paused and allowed his words to sink in as he fixed Fathom with a pointed expression. ?Only the great dying might have more significance, and a whole new era hatched from that disaster.?
?I¡hadn¡¯t thought about the last part,? Fathom admitted, his head lowered in contemplation. ?At least things won¡¯t be as bad as the great dying.?
?Well, that just fills me with confidence,? Hanron drawled. ?Well, either way, these moments we live in will be spoken in legend¡that is, assuming any of us survive the next century or so.?
?Is there a point to this conversation?? Fathom asked tiredly.
Hanron shrugged. ?I¡¯m just making sure you know what¡¯s at stake. These humans seem¡dangerous, to say the least, so try not to give them a reason to declare us enemies, alright??
?I know,? Fathom sighed. ?But I don¡¯t think anything terribly bad will happen. The humans I¡¯ve met so far seem reasonable enough¡though Pryce has expressed some worry about dealing with his own kind. I get the impression that he¡¯s a bit odd for a human, even if he is respected.?
His father gave him a sidelong glance as he spoke, a cogent look in the older dragon¡¯s eyes. ?You really do trust him, don¡¯t you??
Fathom snorted. ?I said he was my friend, didn¡¯t I??
?...so you did,? Hanron said neutrally. ?Let¡¯s hope that it counts for something among the other humans.?
[Day 106]
¡°Scott, what are you doing?¡± Gordon asked in bewilderment.
¡°Look, I want to go flying, and she said this was the price.¡±
Gordon stared as Kharno patted the top of his fellow crewman¡¯s head, then prodded at his cheeks. ¡°Are you sure those claws are safe? I''ve seen her crush bone to snack on the marrow.¡±
¡°It''s fine, she can be gentle if she wants,¡± Scott said, his voice a little distorted by the prodding. ¡°See? Not a scratch on me.¡±
?Human faces are so soft,? Kharno crooned. Neither of the humans could understand her words, but her tone required no translation.
¡°Well it''s still not very dignified,¡± Gordon grumbled.
Scott scoffed. ¡°Screw dignity, I¡¯m going flying.¡±
¡°Whatever you say,¡± Gordon said, and rolled his eyes. ¡°I¡¯ll never understand why you¡¯re so insistent on that.¡±
¡°It¡¯s flying. On a dragon,¡± Scott said, as if that explained everything. ¡°Don¡¯t tell me you have an irrational fear of heights.¡±
¡°Nothing irrational about it,¡± Gordon huffed. ¡°Men aren''t meant to fly.¡±
¡°You''ve been on an airplane before.¡±
¡°Only because I needed to, and the damned thing sounded like it was about to fall apart the whole time,¡± Gordon grumbled with a shudder.
¡°Well¡it''s not like a dragon can fall apart,¡± Scott pointed out.
¡°Not the point, Scott,¡± Gordon sighed, rubbing his eyes. ¡°Nevermind. Go and have your fun.¡±
Scott grinned. ¡°Oh, I will.¡±
[Day 107]
?Do they know what causes a star to die?? Eoiras asked.
¡°Oh, you know about supernovae,¡± Scott said, eyebrow raised. ¡°If I remember correctly the last one was about five hundred years ago, which means-¡± his eyes widened as he froze mid-sentence. ¡°Wait, you¡¯re old enough to have seen it!¡±
?Yes, I am,? Eoiras said, nodding wistfully. ?There are stories of such things happening, of course, but they were nothing like what I saw: for a moon and a half, the night sky was so bright¡and when the light faded, the star was gone.?
¡°I can see how that would be unsettling,¡± Scott said, rubbing his chin as he considered how to explain a supernova in a way that Celeste could translate. ¡°The earth has gravity because it has mass, and the sun has much more mass than earth, which means it also has much more gravity. This very strong gravity presses down into the core of the star.¡± He raised his hands as he spoke, and mimed crushing a sphere. ¡°But the burning is like an explosion, and it pushes outwards, which keeps the star from crushing itself.¡± He moved his hands further apart, then closer, then back and forth until his hands reached equilibrium from each other.
?Hmm¡? Eoiras hummed. ?I am not sure if I understand, but go on.?
¡°Eventually the star runs out of fuel, which means it can¡¯t burn anymore, and that means there¡¯s nothing stopping gravity from crushing the star.¡± Scott punctuated his explanation with a sharp clap, which itself seemed to puzzle the dragons.
¡°That explanation makes some sense, but how did you make that loud noise with your hands?¡± Celeste asked, head tilted in confusion.
¡°That¡¯s¡a clap,¡± Scott said, puzzled. ¡°Can¡¯t you do that?¡±
Celeste sat back on her haunches, then brought her hands together, though it only produced a dull sound.
¡°You have to¡trap the air, I guess?¡± Scott said, scratching his head. ¡°I hadn¡¯t thought about why it works before, but I suppose your scales don¡¯t form a good seal.¡±
Eoiras, having heard Celeste¡¯s translation, also tried to mimic the clap, but was met with no more success than Celeste.
?Grrh, why is this so hard?? Celeste growled, wafting her hands in pain from the repeated impacts.
?Maybe we need a different method,? Eoiras rumbled as he examined his hands. ?If air needs to be trapped, then¡? he brought his wingtips around himself, then laid each membrane against his hands before attempting the clapping motion once again, this time producing an unsatisfying puffing noise.
?Not a bad idea,? Celeste said, then experimentally brought the palms of her wings together. This was likewise met with failure, until one attempt produced a somewhat sharper noise. ?Ah! I think I got it!? she said, and tried again. A few repetitions later she was able to consistently produce a noise that could be considered a dull clap.
Eoiras and the others began to copy the gesture, and soon the beach was full of clumsily clapping dragons.
Scott could only scratch his head at the scene before him ¨C several dragons surrounding him, expressions of intense concentration on each one''s face, while they all clumsily applauded at nothing.
?That¡¯s enough of that,? Eoiras chuffed, settling back down on four limbs. ?I have another question; there are rare instances I¡¯ve seen faint lights dancing in the sky, but there was one occasion where these lights were far brighter than normal ¨C do you know what those are? Or what causes them??
Scott scratched his head and sighed ¨C perhaps he should¡¯ve studied physics instead of engineering.
[Day 108]
¡°We leave tomorrow, right?¡± Fathom asked.
¡°Yes,¡± Pryce said, tiredly rubbing his eyes. ¡°I talked to Siebert earlier, and we¡¯re ready to leave tomorrow.¡±
¡°Does that mean you¡¯re done with the dissection?¡±
¡°More or less,¡± Pryce sighed. ¡°Bodies are very, very, complicated. The ship doesn¡¯t have all the tools that I¡¯d like, but I¡¯ve done all that I can for now.¡±
¡°Makes sense,¡± Fathom nodded. ¡°Did you learn anything useful?¡±
¡°Lots, but-¡± Pryce stifled a yawn. ¡°Sorry, I¡¯m exhausted ¨C I¡¯ll tell you about it tomorrow, alright?¡±
¡°Of course. You seemed to be working every time I looked for you,¡± Fathom said, nudging him away. ¡°Go rest.¡±
¡°Alright, alright,¡± Pryce said, stumbling off to his room as the two of them exchanged farewells.
As Pryce walked away, Fathom belatedly remembered that he had planned to ask a question¡ But then he saw the weariness in the humans¡¯ shuffling gait, and he decided that it could wait until tomorrow.
[JOURNAL ENTRY]
Overview of the dissection of the dragon designated as ¡°Pathogen¡±:
Muscular system:
There is currently no time for a close inspection of the muscular system, though samples have been taken and preserved for future study.
Nervous system:
As expected, the cerebrum of a dragon possesses notable similarities to the human equivalent, especially in regards to the highly developed cerebral cortex, which by my estimate easily surpasses a human¡¯s in regards to surface area ¨C though it should be noted that a drastic increase in surface area should be expected to accommodate the greater volume of brain matter.
The structure of the draconic cerebrum bears greater similarity to that of a cetacean in that there are three distinct hemisphere trispheres. Any detailed tests will have to wait ¨C in the meantime the brain has been preserved for future study.
Cardiovascular system:
This dissection has confirmed the existence of two secondary hearts, one located at the base of the neck and the other in the lower torso (Which I shall refer to as the superior secondary heart and inferior secondary heart, respectively). Both of these are much simpler in structure than the primary heart, with each ¡®heart¡¯ consisting of a single valve and chamber.
Interestingly, the primary heart also possesses a double aortic arch, similar to that seen in crocodilians ¨C perhaps the bi-aortic common ancestor existed at a point in time even earlier than the common ancestor of tetrapods and hexapeds?
A notable feature is that the left aortic arch is the slightly dominant artery, and it appears to deliver blood from the lungs to the upper body, while the smaller right aortic arch pumps blood to the lower body. It seems a little redundant for there to be a secondary heart at the base of the neck when the primary heart is not so far away.
Perhaps this organ serves another purpose? Perhaps the valve prevents any acceleration from draining to other parts of the body, though this is only a guess.
Respiratory system:
As suspected, the draconic respiratory system is exceptionally advanced, with air sacs distributed throughout the body.
As with avian lungs, dragon lungs operate by forcing air to travel in one direction ¨C a far more efficient setup than bidirectional lungs, though it is also the reason for avian susceptibility to toxic gasses.
The organs also take up a great amount of volume within the body, and air sacs were even found attached to bones of the fore and rear limbs. This explains their abnormally low density, as a significant portion of their volume is simply air.
Hydrogen(?) system:
The sac which contains hydrogen is located along the back of the thoracic cavity, similar in placement to the air bladder of a fish. Again, there is no time for an in-depth analysis, but the organ is significantly thicker than the lungs, and has a multilayered structure to it.
I suspect the ¡®beating¡¯ of this organ serves some function to recapture or prevent the hydrogen gas from diffusing through the body, but I currently have no way of verifying this hypothesis.
Skeletal system:
The bones of a dragon have an odd grey tint (like those of the gryphon) and are extremely lightweight yet durable, with a porous structure that allows for the storage of additional air. Air sacs were found attached to the bones themselves ¨C hardly surprising, considering that avians share this adaptation.
Further analysis will come later.
Digestive system:
Long and short intestines are both shorter than one would expect from such a large species. This adaptation likely occurred to save weight, but I imagine it also makes them less efficient at digesting food.
Note: measure the quantity of food required for a dragon to sustain themselves. I suspect that each kilogram of a dragons¡¯ body requires more calories to operate than ours.
Excretory system:
Like avians, dragons are uricotelic, meaning that nitrogenous waste is excreted in the form of uric acid rather than urea. Producing the former is more energy-intensive than the latter, but requires much less water, and thereby lowers the total mass of the body.
I have noticed that dragons do not seem to drink much water; they appear to gain most of it from their diet. I would assume that not having to drink much liquid made it unlikely for a dragon to store any amount of juice, which in turn made the accidental discovery of alcohol more difficult.
Chapter 68, Day 109: Homeward
[DAY 109]
?So, it¡¯s finally time for you to go,? Helsha said.
?Indeed,? Qnaoro nodded. ?Pryce finished examining Ighnahr¡¯s corpse last night, and we have enough preserved food to last the entire journey. We¡¯ll eat one last meal, and then the ship will head to the Mainland.?
?I see.? The herbalist sounded a little off, and Qnaoro couldn¡¯t help but look askance at him.
?Is something the matter?? Qnaoro asked, tilting his head.
?Hmm. Walk with me,? Helsha said, pushing himself up stiffly.
Qnaoro was confused, but he followed anyway, padding alongside Helsha who still walked with a limp. His injuries, like the others, had healed quite quickly thanks to human medical aid, and they had healed over enough to no longer be at risk of opening with some light activity.
The humans had stated that it would have been preferable to leave the stitches in a bit longer, but the wounds had healed enough that removal was no longer a danger¡or at least far less of one than leaving them in until their uncertain return.
?What did you want to talk about?? Qnaoro asked, when they had walked some distance without speaking.
Helsha slowed to a stop as he glanced around the forest they¡¯d entered. Seeming to be satisfied, he sat down.
Qnaoro waited for the herbalist to speak, but when a beat passed in silence he coughed pointedly.
?Sorry,? Helsha said, chuffing lightheartedly. ?I had many things on my mind, but now I¡¯m not sure how to begin.?
Qnaoro blinked, surprised at this admission. ?I didn¡¯t think you were one to mince words,? he said, spines flattened a little.
?I suppose not,? Helsha sighed. ?Well, the main thing that¡¯s been worrying me is those rifles that humans have. Jooral-? voiced some very sensible arguments, and I do not think we should fight the humans,? he said hastily, ?but¡to be completely honest, I was planning on visiting the Mainland until I saw how easily Pryce was able to kill Ighnahr. Now¡I¡¯m not sure if I would go even if I had no plants to take care of.?
?...really?? Qnaoro asked incredulously. ?But why not? You agree with what Jooral-? said, don¡¯t you? Isn¡¯t it safer to deal with the humans on our own terms than to have them act on their own??
?I do. It is a sensible argument.?
?Then¡??
?...I suppose I am afraid,? Helsha said, very quietly. ?Aren¡¯t you??
?Maybe a little,? Qnaoro admitted, though he was deeply unsettled by Helsha¡¯s admission ¨C he had rarely seen the herbalist show doubt before, and never any semblance of fear. ?But¡my whole life, I¡¯ve wanted to be free from this land, and see things that others had not. I can¡¯t turn that down now, not for anything.?
Helsha stared for a moment before abruptly chuffing in amusement. ?I suppose we should be glad you don¡¯t like fighting, else you¡¯d be quite fearsome.? Qnaoro wasn¡¯t sure how to respond to that, but the herbalist hadn¡¯t seemed to have been expecting one as he stood himself up. ?Well, that¡¯s all that I wanted to talk to you about. Let¡¯s head on back.?
Qnaoro didn¡¯t move. ?You¡¯re worried about me,? he stated in realization.
Helsha paused, then turned to glance back at him. ?Of course I am,? he huffed, shrugging a wing in the direction of the ship. ?You¡¯re heading off to a land full of those bizarre creatures, with only a moderately good chance of coming back. I was going to try and dissuade you,? he added, ?but¡well, everyone has their reason to be, and far be it from me to take that from you.?
?I see¡? Qnaoro said, trailing off uncertainly. ?Well, I also thought about asking you to come with me, but I don¡¯t think I could have pulled you away from those trees of yours even if I tried.?
?Good,? Helsha said, eyes narrowed in amusement. ?It seems we understand each other.? He paused, glancing around before he continued. ?...you remember my scarred tree, right? Do you still want to know about it??
Qnaoro¡¯s eyes widened. ?¡! Of course!? he exclaimed after a moment¡¯s hesitation.
?Just so you know, I¡¯ve never told anyone this ¨C save for one person ¨C so promise me you¡¯ll never tell anyone else, alright?? Helsha asked, and raised his hand with palm upturned.
?I¡¯ll never speak of it to anyone else,? Qnaoro promised as they clasped hands and completed the gesture.
?Good,? Helsha nodded. ?I suppose I should start at the beginning,? he said, sitting back down upon the forest floor. ?I was raised in an area with some particularly old great trees, and my parents would often tell me about how these trees were older than anyone alive. Naturally I was amazed by this, though I was only able to climb the tree once before my parents caught me. After that I was forbidden to go out on my own until I had learned to fly, but in the meantime I had a toy,? he said, holding something up. ?A large seed-pod, somewhat like this one, had fallen when my parents had yanked me back home. I¡¯m not sure why they allowed me to keep it, but I¡¯m glad they did.?
The herbalist paused for a moment, a nostalgic look in his eyes. ?I was enamored with that thing; the way it conked against the trunk of a tree, the way it fit perfectly in my jaws, and the way it seemed to spin forever if I spun it the right way fascinated me ¨C but there is one particular memory that stands out among the others.? Helsha¡¯s eyelids slowly lowered, and he closed his talons around the pod. ?I was playing with the pod as usual, but then I encountered a young moon grazer who had wandered towards our home. Instead of running away, it nudged my pod back towards me. I was amazed, and we played for a little while, rolling the pod back and forth between us until my father arrived and tore open its throat. It was no different than what I¡¯d seen him do for years, and certainly no different from what I¡¯d done myself to smaller creatures.?
Qnaoro opened his mouth, but wasn¡¯t quite sure what to say. In the end he decided it was better to let Helsha finish his story first, without interrupting him.
?The grazer was just prey,? Helsha said, not seeming to pay attention to his audience. ?It was something to be eaten, as was natural¡and yet, for some reason, I could not forget the look in that creature¡¯s eyes as it died.?
Qnaoro flattened his spines, unsure of what to say. ?I see¡Is that why you¡??
?More or less,? Helsha sighed. ?I didn¡¯t start immediately ¨C it is hard to defy one¡¯s parents as a hatchling, but I made slow and steady progress once I¡¯d begun to live on my own. The seed pod broke shortly after that incident, but I¡¯d kept it with me until I found a good place to plant it.?
?So that¡¯s where the tree came from,? Qnaoro said in realization.
?Yes, but that¡¯s just the first half of the story,? Helsha sighed, his expression hardening. ?There was someone who I once called a friend for many years, but in the end he only wanted to steal the recipe behind my pattern-strengthening medicine. We both knew he was no threat to me, but the day he realized I would never give him what he wanted was the day he almost killed my very first tree.? Recalling this treachery seemed to exhaust the herbalist more than anything ¨C it must have been some time ago, considering that Qnaoro hadn¡¯t heard of such an event before.
?What¡happened to him?? Qnaoro asked hesitantly. He doubted Helsha would ever kill anyone, but in those circumstances, faced with such betrayal¡
?He destroyed my plants and vandalized my tree while I slept, and then he fled before I¡¯d realized what had happened,? Helsha growled. ?I never saw him again, and he was killed by someone else a few decades later.?
Qnaoro flattened his spines as he digested this story. Helsha had never told this to anyone else, except for one person. Assuming that this individual was the traitor¡then that meant the only time the herbalist had trusted someone enough to share his story resulted in them using it to harm him.
And now he had entrusted this deeply personal information with Qnaoro.
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?Thank you,? he said, not knowing how else to respond. ?For telling me all this,? he added awkwardly.
?No need to thank me. I probably should have told you that earlier, considering how much you¡¯ve helped me,? Helsha said, and glanced towards the east, where the ocean met the horizon. ?I¡¯m going to miss our talks.?
?We¡¯ll have more when I come back,? Qnaoro said, ?After all, I¡¯ll have plenty to teach you about humans.?
?...I suppose that is true,? Helsha said, smiling. ?In that case, don¡¯t keep me waiting too long, you hear??
Qnaoro parted his jaws, returning the smile. ?Of course, my friend.?
?Be careful in what you tell them,? Vosae said as she gave Hakra one last reminder, ?They may be our allies today, but who knows what will happen tomorrow? Even if things go well, there will almost certainly be those among them who will use any information they can against us.?
?I know,? Hakra said, nodding gravely. ?I¡¯ll be careful, and I¡¯ll be sure to watch over Icahna,? she said, nodding to Vosae and Icanam.
?I still don¡¯t think this is a very good idea,? Icanam sighed. ?I should be going with you.?
?There is no reason to risk anyone else,? Vosae said, not for the first time. ?Besides, there will be much work to do back home, and your help will be needed.?
?Don¡¯t worry, I will be careful, father,? Icahna said, nudging her parents reassuringly.
?Alright then,? Icanam sighed. ?Stay safe, and be careful around the humans.?
?And don¡¯t forget what¡¯s at stake,? Vosae added, giving each of her daughters a brief hug. ?Now go, before the humans leave you behind.?
?See you later!? Icahna chirped as she fluttered onto the ship.
?Until we meet again,? Hakra rumbled before leaping up onto the ship with a much greater gust of wind.
Soon afterwards smoke began to pour out of the ship¡¯s chimneys, and the great metal vessel almost unbelievably began to break free from the beach. The hundreds of dragons who had gathered upon the beach watched in silent awe as the ship slowly but surely drifted out to sea, gradually orienting itself along the way.
?Where are Jooral-? and Ghorrah-??? Helsha asked as he stood up, scanning the crowd for the two elders. ?I thought they weren¡¯t going to the human land??
?They aren¡¯t,? Vosae answered, tossing her head. ?But Jooral-? can¡¯t fly, remember? She needs help getting back home.?
?Ah,? Helsha nodded ¨C he must have missed that while he slept. ?That makes sense.?
They all watched as the ship ponderously began to point southwards, with some dragons taking to the skies to better observe the great metal vessel as it began to move ¨C slowly but surely, the steel ship gained speed, and soon it was speeding away to the south.
The departure of the ship seemed to signal the end of the gathering; more than half the dragons present had left shortly afterwards, though some had decided to curiously follow the vessel down the coastline.
Seeing that nothing important was happening, Vosae laid back down for another nap, though she was interrupted shortly afterwards by a young green dragon landing upon the beach.
?Is this the place?? the newcomer asked, glancing around. ?Where are the humans??
Everyone stared at him for a moment, until Eoiras barked out a laugh.
?A bit late, aren¡¯t you??
[JOURNAL ENTRY]
Day 109,
Home¡it feels like ages since I¡¯ve left, even if it¡¯s only been a few months.
I cannot deny missing the comforts of living in civilization, but I wouldn¡¯t exactly say that I¡¯m homesick¡for one, I¡¯m far more concerned about the reaction of the general population, as well as what sort of campaign the politicians will decide to launch.
The promise of unclaimed land and untapped resources was a large motivator of this expedition, and those in power are not known for their proclivity to settle for less, let alone share.
I¡¯m no politician, but the optimal outcome would likely involve having the island of dragons recognized as their own country, but that seems unrealistic, considering their non-existent body of government. Declaring their land to be a protected preserve wouldn¡¯t work either, as that would severely limit the ¡°usefulness¡± of the land ¨C no politician would allow that to happen.
It is clear that I am out of my depth, but I have some idea of who to ask for help. At least now my reputation will be good for something.
It is strange: in some regards, the thought of dealing with other people humans is more worrisome than dealing with dragons¡but I suppose a few hundred dragons can only do so much, after all.
There are so many unknowns; I have not the slightest idea what our odds of success are¡but we¡¯ve solved one half of the equation, despite all the hurdles along the way.
We¡¯ll just need to do it again.
[Day 110]
?That is everything,? Fortitude said as she inspected the last crate that was lowered onto the beach.
?Are you sure you don¡¯t want to keep everything?? Devotion asked entreatingly.
?Yes, I am sure,? Fortitude said, sighing in exasperation. ?I haven¡¯t left behind anything terribly valuable, and Ahnoumh can see if the humans are interested in trading for my crafts. Besides,? she added, gesturing at the crate full of miscellaneous tools. ?I¡¯ve received more than enough in return for them.?
?Oh, very well,? Devotion sighed. ¡°We are done,¡± she said, calling out to the humans.
¡°Thank you again for your help,¡± Pryce said, standing with the other humans. ¡°I hope one day you¡¯ll be able to see the Mainland for yourself.¡±
¡°I hope so too,¡± Fortitude said, and then turned to face Celeste.
?It looks like it¡¯s time to go,? Celeste said, giving the familiar forests and mountains one last glance before turning to face the two elders.
?Until we meet again,? Fortitude nodded, smiling.
?Good luck,? Devotion said stoically.
?Thank you,? Celeste said. ?And thank you for¡for everything, really.?
?You¡¯ve already said that,? Devotion snorted. ?Just don¡¯t get yourself killed.?
?Of course,? Celeste said, chuffing in amusement. ?I¡¯ll do my best to come home alive.?
?Yes, yes,? Devotion said, waving her away. ?Go join your father, before the ship leaves.?
Celeste nodded as she turned to leap onto the ship, but then she paused.
?What is it now?? Devotion snorted as Celeste whirled back around. ?Enough with-?
?Thank you for being my mothers,? Celeste said, wrapping the both of them up in a hug.
It ended as quickly as it began, and soon the young dragon leapt onto the deck of the ship with a few stilted wingstrokes.
?My dear wings,? Fortitude snickered, ?I haven¡¯t seen you look so flustered in a long, long time.?
?Oh shut up,? Devotion grumbled, with no heat in her words. ?It¡¯s not as if you¡¯re any different.?
?Oh, I know,? Fortitude said, nodding easily. ?I¡¯m going to miss her,? she sighed as the smoke began to puff out of the ship¡¯s funnels.
?She¡¯ll be fine,? Devotion said, draping a wing over Fortitude, who leaned into her partner. Without another word, the two of them watched as the ship began to pull away to the east, to go where no dragon had ever gone before.
¡°Er¡Excuse me,¡± Pryce said to the dragon blocking the hallway.
¡°Hm?¡± Icahna pulled her gaze away from a painting to cock her head at him. ¡°What that mean?¡± she asked curiously.
Pryce scratched his head, then made a scooting motion with his hand.
The dragonet glanced at him, then down at herself to see that she was blocking the way. ¡°Ra? You want go?¡±
¡°Yes, please,¡± Pryce said, a little amused.
¡°Sorry!¡± Icahna chirped, then flattened herself against the wall to give the human enough room to pass.
Pryce shuffled past her, then stared as she wandered down the ship¡¯s corridors, peering curiously at mundane objects. He supposed that would be a common sight throughout their journey, though he somehow hadn¡¯t realized that she was small enough to explore the ship¡¯s interior.
Putting that thought aside he stepped out onto the deck, then quickly located Fathom. ¡°How¡¯s everyone doing?¡± he asked as he walked up to his friend.
¡°Amazed at the ship, mostly,¡± Fathom shrugged. ¡°Aurum said that the ship¡¯s movement is making him feel unwell,¡± he added smugly, gesturing to the golden dragon who somehow looked queasy as he sat in the middle of the ship ¨C evidently in an attempt to stabilize himself.
¡°Wait¡are you saying he¡¯s seasick?¡± Pryce asked incredulously.
Fathom cocked his head. ¡°That sounds accurate. Does it also happen to humans?¡±
¡°It happens to most humans,¡± Pryce answered, casting a worried glance at Aurum. ¡°It took me a long time to get used to it, and even now I¡¯ll get sick if there¡¯s a storm. I didn¡¯t think dragons could get seasick¡I hope he doesn¡¯t get worse ¨C it won¡¯t be good for our food supply if he starts throwing up.¡±
¡°Just don¡¯t give him any of my food,¡± Fathom snorted.
¡°I¡¯ll need to tell Callan and the others,¡± Pryce said, and nodded in farewell as he turned away.
¡°Pryce, wait.¡± Fathom called out, making Pryce turn around. ¡°Scott was talking about the ¡®northern lights¡¯ yesterday. Is it true that they¡¯re common on the Mainland?¡±
¡°It varies from year to year,¡± Pryce answered, ¡°but the sun has been a little more active recently, so it¡¯s not difficult to see some in the far north.¡± He paused as a realization occurred to him. ¡°Oh, you might not have ever seen them before!¡±
¡°I have,¡± Fathom said, gingerly tilting his head. ¡°But only very dim ones. There are stories of bright lights filling the sky, but I have never seen anything like that,¡± he said, a little wistfully.
Pryce turned his head upwards to look up at the sky, and a beat passed between them. ¡°An equinox is when a day and a night last the same amount of time, and that¡¯s when the northern lights are most common,¡± he said, earning an interesting look from Fathom. ¡°I can¡¯t promise anything, but equinoxes are always three months after a solstice, so there¡¯s a good chance I¡¯ll be able to show you some northern lights while we¡¯re on the Mainland.¡±
Fathom¡¯s eyes widened, and for a brief moment the setting sun was clearly reflected in his eyes.
Then his jaws parted in a smile.
¡°I¡¯m looking forward to it.¡±
The end of book 1
Chapter 69: Art Gallery
Here''s the Imgur Album, with images posted in mostly chronological order (upon creation...except the last few which I forgot about and added last), but I figured I''d properly sort images here, in chronological order with respect to the story, so here goes:
(Cartoon art of Pryce reading to Fathom, by Rackiera)
(Pryce being sleep-deprived, by Nirvanacuga)
(Pryce lending Fathom his chronometer, by me)
(Fortitude sorta-restraining Devotion, by Rackiera)
(Fathom helping Pryce use the sextant)
(The dangers of carelessly using language around a dragon, by Rackiera)
(Celeste sharpening her talons)
(Fatal struggle, by Bloov)
(Tipping point, by Rackiera)
(Kerak, by Bloov!)
(Another artwork of Kerak, by Rackiera)
(Helsha''s backstory, by Rackiera!)
(Everyone, by Rackiera! These humans are smaller than most IRL ones.)
Okay, now here''s "non-canon" art sorted by artist:
Rackiera:
(First drawing of Fathom!)
(Fixed version, but still old design)
(Old designs of the first quartet!)
(Fathom''s head)
(Christmas Fathom!)
(Emotes by Rackiera!)
(Valentine''s art by Rackiera!)
(Iakahn, character and art by Rackiera!)
(Another piece of art by Rackiera!)
(Updated dragon template by Rackiera)
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(Patterns as they appear to another dragon)
(A basking Helsha and a helpful bird who''s picking bugs out from under his scales)
(If Pryce had the maturity of a 9-year-old, by Rackiera)
(Vosae)
(Hatchling Celeste bothering her father)
(A dragon rubbing their eyes with their wing-thumb)
(Human colors are boring)
(She''s talking about horns)
(Tongs. No, I will not elaborate.)
(This is why I didn''t give dragons hose-like lips)
(Drawn in response to me saying that eyeballs are pretty similarly sized across animals, so dragons would have comparatively tiny eyes. This was before the rewrite.)
(Fathom giving a double thumbs-up, by Rackiera)
(My silly edit)
(Ketan and Kerak meeting a Falian and their baby from Mekanip''s "A Chronicle of Lies")
Bloov:
(Dragonriding selfie)
Me:
(Fathom smiling(?), by me)
(Stupid meme)
(Stupider meme)
(Another meme. [Pryce''s head is poking out from between the wings])
(Fathom and hatchling Celeste, who is playing with a spore pod.)
(A poorly drawn Pryce getting SImba''s by a poorly drawn Fathom)
(Fathom being uncertain over which thumb to use for a thumbs-up - the lower quality version of the sticker Rackiera drew)
(Vosae being sign-shamed)
(A close-up of Helsha inspecting a bird)
(Colored)
(Helsha POV)
(Fathom has a surprise meeting with one of Rackiera''s OCs, Areikzar)
(Updated pose)
(Colored version)
And another meme! This one of a baby Celeste or Fathom. Dragon hatchlings look rather similar.
And one last one, by Mekanip:
Chapter 70: Q&A (and wiki docs)
Question from Eternal Reader to Pryce:
Since humans had legends of dragons, do you suppose that in the distant past a dragon managed to reach the mainland? Is it also possible that dragons used to exist on the mainland? Besides that, are you excited for what might be on the third island?
Pryce: ¡°That is possible, but not very plausible. Considering the sheer difficulty involved in crossing such a distance ¨C the Mainland is about 6600 kilometers away, which means it would take 110 hours or over four-and-a-half days of straight flight, and that obviously isn¡¯t feasible given that they need to eat, sleep, and drink fresh water ¨C though dragons get most of their water from their food. Hunting in the ocean is dangerous albeit not impossible, as proven by Aurum, but that still leaves the former problem. It is possible that a dragon was lucky enough to find a few islets to rest, but I still find it incredibly unlikely.¡±
[He pauses for a moment.]
Pryce: ¡°Another issue is a lack of consistency ¨C the dragons of legend are generally depicted as oversized versions of lanaries, which are small, hexapedal, flying creatures who bear a superficial resemblance to dragons (though they do have toothed beaks instead of a muzzle).
In essence, dragons of myth are to lanaries as rocs are to birds.
Pryce: ¡°Dragons of myth are also usually likened to divine beasts, capable of controlling (or at least acting as an omen of) the weather. I have never heard of any legend where they¡¯re capable of speech, though some local myths involve a human being cursed into the form of a dragon¡either way, if a dragon had ever arrived upon the Mainland then it would have happened a very long ago, with the details lost to time.¡±
[Pryce scratches his head, thinking for a moment.]
Pryce: ¡°...This is getting a little off topic, but it really is quite mysterious that there is such a discrepancy between the prevalence of hexapeds and tetrapods between our environments. I hypothesize that ¨C for whatever reason ¨C tetrapods became land-dwelling creatures on the Mainland before hexapeds did, and by the time the latter were able to do so the tetrapods were too well-established to displace. Another thing to consider is that the colder climate makes extra limbs less beneficial, as it causes an organism to lose more heat through their increased surface area. More limbs also require more brainpower to control, which means they¡¯d need more calories to survive.¡±
Pryce: ¡°The heart of the Mainland is rather arid, and it can be considerably cooler in the winter. Those factors mean that there¡¯s less energy in the environment to sustain hexapeds, and thus, over time, the more efficient tetrapods dominated the ecosystem.¡±
Question from ABirbThatReads to Fathom: I know that Pryce has given a name for both you and your species. And that you have given Pryce a new name, but what do you call humans in Draconic? And how did you come to that answer?
[Fathom shrugs]
Fathom: ¡°I never bothered coming up with a new name for humans¡but I have a few ideas. Translated, they would be: stick-limbs, flat-faces, neckless, thin-hides, or crab-hands ¨C because if you put your hands together and wriggle your fingers then it looks like a crab. Or a spider.¡±
[Scott opens his mouth to argue, but reconsiders to put his hands together and wriggle his fingers.]
Scott: "Holy shit. He''s right."
Question from Bloov for Devotion and Fortitude: Hello! Sorry if I am too nosy, but my question is... how did you two meet each other?
Fortitude: ¡°Not at all. Our parents introduced us so we could play and fight with one another. Ghorrah usually won.¡±
[Devotion tosses her head in exasperation]
Devotion: ¡°Of course I won. I¡¯m two years older.¡±
Fortitude: ¡°Details. Anyway, we became fast friends, and when we were old enough we decided to live together ¨C but we did not become partners until half a year after my wing was broken, of course.¡±
Question from Bloov to Kerak: What is your favorite game? Do you play a lot with your mum and dad or do you play mostly alone?
[Kerak plays with the lighter by flicking the spark wheel.]
[Question is repeated]
Kerak: ?Oh!...I like to play hunter* with mother! Sometimes I play with father too, but he¡¯s always so sleepy!**?
*Note: A game where the parent helps the hatchling catch small prey.
**Note: Kerak¡¯s father does most of the hunting and other miscellaneous activities. He also tends to work while Kerak and his mother are sleeping, which is why from Kerak¡¯s perspective he seems to often be ¡®sleepy¡¯.
Question from Bloov to Celeste: Hi! May I ask? If you were able to, would you go to a university to learn about human knowledge? If so, what subjects would you like to learn the most?
[Celeste shrugs]
Celeste: ¡°How am I supposed to know what I don''t know? But if I had to give an answer, I would say that your technology in general is very interesting¡but so is your history. Pryce has not been able to explain it very well, and I am curious to see how different human culture is from ours.¡±
Question from Bloov to Kharno: Hello! It seems that you find human appearances amusing. Would you like to have human plush?! ??
Kharno: ?Of course!...though I might accidentally damage it with my talons¡would it be possible to make one out of something more durable??
*Note: most dragons wouldn''t object to such a gift, though it would be more out of an unwillingness to turn down something freely given - especially for something so unusual.
Question from Bloov to Pathogen: Damn, I feel sorry for you, but you''re reaping what you''ve sown as humans say. But if you could somehow return, would you try to change something to get a better outcome? Was there any chance that you would heed Huroumh and stand down?
[The flies on his corpse buzz with a distinct lack of understanding.]
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Actual answer:
[Ighnahr remains motionless for several moments, his eyes locked upon the ground.]
?...No.?
[Raising his head, he stares at the sky.]
?...I had already lost, even before the humans interfered. In the end, I was just too weak. I never stood a chance at all.?
If he was convinced of the true nature of infection:
?Then it was all¡because of bad luck? That can¡¯t be right. There has to be a reason. If there isn¡¯t¡I¡?
[Ighnahr pauses. A moment later he chuffs in amusement before bursting out in unhinged laughter.]
[He falls silent half a minute later.]
?¡but I suppose I shouldn''t be surprised; it was a fitting part of this wretched mess. Pointless, from start to end¡?
A variant of this question by Quantumphaze: If you could go back and correct the trajectory of your life and not get so held up on obsessing with fighting strength, would you?
[Ighnahr snorts derisively]
Ighnahr: ?Change the trajectory of my life? And what would that entail? Are you saying I should have given up without ever trying? Or should I have given up on fighting together with my tail tucked between my legs??
[Ighnahr freezes abruptly, seeming to realize something]
?¡spoken out loud, I suppose that is not any more shameful than the life I lived. Still, as the only child of Igansa, I do not think I could have done it¡I may have been nothing but a source of shame for my parents, but at least I did not choose to disappoint them.?
[Ighnahr sighs, and slowly closes his eyes]
?If only that had meant anything at all.?
Question from Bloov to Qnaoro: Hello! Imagine if one day people were able to go to the Moon. Would you join them, even if you''d be stuck in the tiny compartment of a spaceship, unable to move or fly? Would you accept this opportunity to explore a whole new world or would you like to wait until travel to the moon is safer and more comfortable?
Aurum: ?Are you mad? What¡¯s a little discomfort if I can be the first to walk on the moon??
[He glances up at the moon]
?To go to the moon¡what else could be worth risking your life??
Question from Rackiera to Callan: What would you have done if Pryce didn''t survive and you really were the only human?
Callan: ¡°My original plan was to have Aurum bring me to the Plateau on the day of the Solstice, where our gathered allies would reveal themselves to be on our side. Obviously I had no idea what was going to happen, so everything after that was more or less going to be improvisation.¡±
[If asked what she thinks would¡¯ve happened if she was the sole survivor.]
Callan: ¡°Well¡the Daybreak arrived on day 100, so the big question is if they get discovered between then and the solstice or not. That ol¡¯ bitch (Vosae) might¡¯ve been looking for a ship, but that was only because Trespasser found the Horizon in the first place, which means it¡¯d be a toss-up as to when and how the Daybreak gets discovered.¡±
[She pauses for a moment to think.]
Callan: ¡°If the ship doesn¡¯t get discovered before the Solstice then they wouldn¡¯t be able to affect the big meeting. In that case I imagine my allies and I would be able to garner the interest and support of a good number of dragons, but that Vosae probably would¡¯ve rallied the rest against us. Not sure how many would¡¯ve joined our side or theirs, but I sure am glad I didn¡¯t have to take those odds.¡±
Callan: ¡°If the Daybreak were discovered then¡well, that would be a lot messier. I can¡¯t even begin to guess what would happen. I¡¯m not sure how either scenario would end, but it would probably involve a lot more deaths than just one. Now don¡¯t get me wrong ¨C I didn¡¯t want anyone dead, but sometimes you just gotta give people a reason not to mess with you; and that¡¯s why I think what happened was for the best.¡±
Question from Rackiera to Pryce: "Did any of your crewmates consider eating some of Pathogen''s meat when he was just killed, or was it different because he could talk?"
Pryce: ¡°Gordon did ask if he could try making some ¡®dragon steak¡¯, but he got scared off when Fortitude asked if she could try cooking human meat ¨C she had to clarify that this request would only extend to those who had died of unrelated causes.¡±
Question from mpmxyz to Icahna: "Icahna, humans learn many things at a place called ''school''. Are you interested in a visit?¡±
Icahna: ?Of course! But I hope they won¡¯t use many complicated words¡I am learning, but there are so many of them to memorize! Oh, and I want to see what human children look like. Don¡¯t tell them I said this, but their faces are so soft and round, it makes all of them look like they¡¯re not fully grown!?
Question from mpmxyz to Kerak: "Kerak, how do you like humans?" (I''m hoping for food-related shenanigans!)
Kerak: ?Humans look funny! But human food smell good!?
[Kerak nervously glances around.]
Kerak (whispering conspiratorially): ?Human food taste gooder than mother food!?
Question from jesper537 to any dragon: "Would you be willing to try going into the movie industry?¡±
Fathom: ¡°It sounds interesting, but I¡¯m not sure if I will be good at ¡®acting¡¯...it feels a little dishonest, like a type of lying-¡±
[Pryce informs Fathom that he would be fed and paid.]
Fathom: ¡°-but it would be a good way to learn about human culture!¡±
Question from Abowden to Qnaoro/Aurum: What are you most looking forward to seeing on the human continent?
Aurum: ?I''m not sure, actually. I¡¯ve found that island animals are often very different from the ones most of us are familiar with ¨C examining them is usually one of my favorite parts of exploring, but this time there¡¯s so many new things to see that I¡¯m not sure what to expect. I¡¯m looking forward to the food, of course, but I think one of the first things I want to see are the ¡®skyscrapers¡¯ that Laishaka mentioned, which apparently are half a kilometer tall¡I do trust her, but I still find it difficult to believe that humans can make constructs that stretch so far up towards the sky.?
Question from Abowden to Vosae: Pryce spared you repeatedly when most would have eventually relented, either out of fear, anger, or both. Afterward, he healed you of your agony for no other reason than he doesn''t like seeing people in pain when he can help.
Are you impressed by Pryce''s bravery in showing you mercy at such great risk to himself?
Do you feel indebted to him for the healing, sparing your life, or both?
Vosae: ?His bravery is commendable, but I cannot honestly say that I understand him. Still, he risked himself to avoid harming my clan, so he has my gratitude and trust ¨C If he did not, then I would not have agreed to ally with his kind.?
Question from Abowden to Kharno: Are you looking forward to meeting infant humans?
Kharno: ?Of course! Humans are so strangely cute; their babies must be even cuter!?
[She thinks for a moment]
Kharno: ?¡Do you think anyone would let me care for their child for a day or two??
Question from Kougar to Fathom: If you close your eyes and spin around, can you tell which way north is?
Fathom: ¡°Of course; that is very easy. Anyone ¨C any dragon ¨C can do that.¡±
Question from Kougar to Fathom: What exactly do you mean by getting a headache when near a magnet for a while?
Fathom: ¡°I would not say that it is a headache, exactly¡it is a bit like when you get dizzy, and it feels like the ground is moving beneath you, even if you know it is not. Pryce has taught me that a magnet and the Earth both produce the same ¡®fields¡¯, so a magnet can make it feel like ¡®north¡¯ is suddenly in a different direction.¡±
Question from X-leen to Pryce: Pryce, since there are dragons on the second continent, can''t there be others on the third? Or that there are dragons and humans living in that place?
Pryce: ¡°The third continent is significantly closer than the Mainland, but the prevailing winds generally go eastward. A dragon presence on this mystery island isn¡¯t out of the question, but if it exists then no dragon who made it there has ever returned, which seems unlikely.¡±
Pryce: ¡°Likewise, no expedition ship has ever returned to the Mainland. The only cause for this would be if their ships were incapable of making it back home, and in that event the best case scenario would be if they set up camp after their damaged ship made landfall. Even that would only be a temporary solution, as I don¡¯t believe there were any women on those ships, which means that any survivors would not be able to establish a real population.¡±
Oneshot: Pryces Backstory
919/08/02
In a maternity ward a man sat next to his wife, their baby held within his arms.
¡°Carol?¡± Stephen asked softly.
¡°Hm?¡± Caroline said, opening her weary eyes.
¡°Have you thought of a name yet?¡±
¡°I have,¡± she said, smiling weakly. ¡°How does¡¡¯Alexander¡¯ sound?¡±
¡°Alexander Pryce,¡± Stephen hummed. ¡°I like it.¡±
Five years later, 924/09/23
¡°Come now, Alex, say hello,¡± Papa said, nudging him forward.
¡°Easy, Stephen, he¡¯s never met so many people before,¡± Mama said.
Alex was thankful that the strangers were finally stepping away, but for some reason they still kept staring at him.
Well, him and someone else.
¡°Hello!¡± said a child, who was probably the ¡®James¡¯ mama had told him about. James was a little smaller than Alex, which made sense since he was about half a year younger.
¡°...Hello,¡± Alex murmured in response. A nudge from his father reminded him that he was supposed to introduce himself. ¡°My name is Alex.¡±
¡°My name is James!¡± was James¡¯ energetic response. ¡°Wanna see my toys?¡±
¡°...okay,¡± Alex said, uncertainly glancing back at mama and papa who nodded encouragingly.
Permission granted, Alex followed the younger child while awkwardly ignoring the murmurs of the adults. They were talking about things he already knew about anyway, like their trip here ¨C which was so bumpy that it made him throw up ¨C along with other things that no one cared about, like how something called ¡®slavery¡¯ wasn¡¯t allowed anymore.
These thoughts left Alex¡¯s mind as James led him to what was presumably his room, and picked up a strange toy Alex had never seen before.
¡°Papa made these for me!¡± James said proudly, holding an odd bunch of toothed circles that Alex didn¡¯t know the names of. ¡°This is the mainspring, and it¡¯s connected to the winding pinion so that it spins when it spins, see? And if you spin it enough, it can keep going by itself for a long long time! And this is the main wheel, and this is the escape wheel, and this-¡±
Alex stared, overwhelmed by the complexity of the device.
¡°...Do you have a toy like this?¡± James asked, sounding baffled by his confusion.
¡°...no,¡± Alex admitted.
¡°Oh,¡± James said, deflating a little. ¡°Are you sure?¡± he asked hopefully.
¡°Yes¡¡±
¡°Hmm,¡± James said. ¡°My birthday is in a month. Papa said he will make me a better one then,¡± he said slowly. ¡°Do you want this one?¡±
¡°I¡don¡¯t know how to play with this,¡± Alex admitted. It made him feel stupid to say it, but papa always said that lying was bad.
¡°That¡¯s okay, I can teach you, like papa teached me!¡± James beamed, regaining his former excited energy.
¡°Really?¡± Alex asked. ¡°I don¡¯t know if I can learn this,¡± he said, intimidated by the toy¡¯s complexity ¨C it had so many moving parts!
¡°That¡¯s okay, papa says it looks complacam-complicated,¡± James said, stumbling a little over the long word but losing none of his enthusiasm, ¡°it is a little complicated, but each part is simple, so to learn the whole thing you just need to learn a lot of simple things!¡±
That¡did make sense, Alex thought. ¡°Okay, can you teach me?¡±
¡°Sure!¡± James said, smiling brightly.
¡°Alex, it¡¯s time to go,¡± papa called.
¡°Coming!¡± Alex called back, then turned back to James. ¡°Can I really have this?¡±
¡°Yep! I already know everything about it, so I don¡¯t need it anymore,¡± James said, grinning proudly.
¡°Alex, where are you?¡± papa asked, peering into the room.
¡°James is giving me his toy!¡± Alex said excitedly.
¡°Oh. Is that alright with you, Gerson?¡±
James¡¯ papa ¨C or Gerson, as papa called him ¨C rubbed his beard thoughtfully. ¡°That old thing? I don¡¯t see why not ¨C it¡¯s just something I whipped together out of spare parts; I¡¯m going to be giving James a better one next month anywho.¡±
¡°Well then,¡± papa said, crouching down to talk to James. ¡°Thank you James. Alex, say-¡±
¡°Thank you!¡± Alex said to James, then glanced at papa. ¡°Can we come back tomorrow?¡±
¡°Alex, it¡¯s not polite to invite yourself,¡± papa chided.
¡°It¡¯s alright, James needs a friend anyway,¡± Mr. Wright chuckled. ¡°Feel free to come on over whenever you feel like it ¨C we¡¯re family, after all.¡±
Three months later, 925/01/05
¡°I¡¯ll be right here after school, alright?¡±
¡°I know, you already told me, mom,¡± Alex groaned.
¡°Yes, just making sure,¡± his mother said, straightening his collar. ¡°Remember to listen to your teachers, and be nice to everyone, especially on your first day.¡±
¡°I know, I promise I¡¯ll be good,¡± Alex said, fidgeting as she straightened out a tiny crease.
¡°I know you¡¯re sad that James couldn¡¯t be in the same grade as you,¡± his mother went on in an oddly cheerful tone, ¡°but you¡¯ll still be able to play together after class.¡±
¡°I know,¡± Alex sighed. He turned his head around to see the schoolyard emptying behind him. ¡°I need to go now, bye.¡±
¡°Goodbye! Have fun!¡±
Alex waved goodbye, and stepped into the school. He¡¯d been here once before, but it still took a few turns to find the homeroom. He stepped in, nervously glancing at each student ¨C there were so many new faces, how was he supposed to-
¡°James? What are you doing here?¡±
¡°Hey Alex,¡± James said, smiling broadly. ¡°My parents talked to the teachers, and they let me start school early!¡±
¡°We¡¯re going to be classmates?¡± Alex asked excitedly.
James¡¯s grin somehow got wider. ¡°Yep!¡±
¡°Awesome!¡±
Five years later, 930/03/33
¡°You head home first,¡± Alex said. ¡°I want to ask Mrs. Tanner something.¡±
¡°Really? Like what?¡± James asked skeptically. ¡°It¡¯s just Murian class. You could write gibberish and do well enough.¡±
Alex shrugged. ¡°I want to know if my topic is okay for the class.¡±
¡°Alright,¡± James huffed, ¡°but hurry up, you know we have to be home early today for the game.¡±
¡°I will, I will,¡± Alex said, and rushed back to Mrs. Tanner¡¯s room.
James sighed as he left the school. It was about a twenty-minute walk back home, so Alex had plenty of time to catch up.
He glanced around a few times ¨C the few students around him were all in their own little groups, and none of them paid any particular attention to him. Not that he minded, they were all boring anyway, unlike Alex.
¡°Well, if it isn¡¯t the boy genius,¡± came an insufferable-yet-familiar voice.
¡°Dean,¡± James said shortly, turning back around to glare at the older boy. He¡¯d walked further than he¡¯d thought, and he couldn¡¯t see anyone else around them except for Jack and Travis, who flanked Dean¡¯s sides like undersized bodyguards.
¡°You did pretty well on that last test,¡± Dean said, hands in his pockets.
¡°Thanks, I guess,¡± James said, making sure to sound as insincere as possible.
¡°The thing is,¡± Dean drawled, ¡°my father promised that he¡¯d take me on a vacation to Auster if I placed in the top three of the last term test.¡±
¡°Oh,¡± James said. ¡°Which place were you, again?¡±
¡°Fourth,¡± Dean said, through gritted teeth.
¡°Ah. Sorry about that,¡± James said, scratching his head. ¡°Maybe try studying harder next time?¡±
Dean shook his head. ¡°No, I don¡¯t think so. See, I¡¯m not a genius like you, so I don¡¯t think it¡¯s fair for us to be competing, don¡¯t you think? In fact, why don¡¯t you take it easy next term test?¡±
James blinked. ¡°But I have been taking it easy.¡±
Dean¡¯s smile twitched, just a touch. ¡°My father said he¡¯ll give me another chance for the next term test,¡± he said, ignoring the comment, ¡°so I figured, why not play it safe, and make sure a certain someone doesn¡¯t try and get in my way?¡±
And before James could react, the older boy drove his fist into his gut.
¡°Urk!¡± James coughed, collapsing onto the ground as the air was knocked out of his lungs.
¡°I thought about just giving you a warning,¡± Dean said, dragging James up by his collar, ¡°but then I saw you wandering around without that mixed friend of yours, and I figured I might as well make sure you learn your lesson.¡±
¡°...hurts,¡± James gasped.
¡°Good,¡± Dean snorted. ¡°Now, what are you going to do next term test?¡±
¡°...¡± James wheezed.
¡°What was that? Speak up!¡± Dean jeered, causing his lackeys to snicker. ¡°If you¡¯re not gonna answer I¡¯m gonna have to give you ano-¡±
Crack.
James stumbled as Dean collapsed like a puppet. Behind him stood Alex, a thick branch in his hands.
¡°You da-¡± Jack spat, but didn¡¯t react in time before Alex whacked him across the face with his makeshift weapon, sending the boy reeling on the ground. James pushed himself up as Alex moved to swing at Travis, but the last boy had been prepared, and caught the stick before punching Alex in the face.
Travis moved to kick Alex while he was down, but James leapt forward to tackle the older boy ¨C or tried to; he barely caused him to stumble.
But he¡¯d bought just enough time for Alex to stand back up, and Travis went down with one good punch.
¡°Run!¡± Alex cried, and they bolted away before Dean and his lackeys could stand back up.
¡°Are you okay?¡± Alex asked when they had finally gotten far away enough.
¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± James wheezed, rubbing his jaws. He glanced up at Alex and saw that his face was already bruising, and the knuckles on his fist had split.
¡°Good,¡± Alex sighed, wincing as he prodded himself a little too hard. ¡°How do they always manage to find you so quickly?¡±
¡°Beats me. Literally,¡± James snickered, then coughed in pain.
¡°Oh no,¡± Alex abruptly sighed.
¡°What?!¡± James whipped his head around, expecting to see Dean turning the corner ¨C but there was no one around. He glanced back in confusion at Alex, who hung his head.
¡°Mom is not going to like this.¡±
¡°Mom, I¡¯m home,¡± Alex called out, tentatively poking his head through the front door. ¡°...mom?¡±
No response. That was odd, mother didn¡¯t have work today. Maybe she was out shopping? Or maybe-
Suddenly, the sound of vomiting echoed from the bathroom.
¡°Mom? Are you okay?¡± Alex asked, running over to the bathroom.
¡°I¡¯ll¡be fine, dear,¡± said his mother, panting as she turned to face him. Alex froze ¨C she looked horrible. Strands of hair clung to her damp, unhealthily pale skin. Alex glanced into the toilet bowl, and he suddenly felt sick when he saw wisps of blood in the water. ¡°Alex, I need you to go call the ambulance-¡± she was interrupted by another bout of vomiting.
¡°I¡¯ll go call the ambulance,¡± Alex said in a rush as he dashed to the phone, his own pain completely forgotten. He hurriedly picked up the phone and fidgeted as he waited for an operator.
¡°Number?¡± came a female operator¡¯s voice.
¡°Ambulance!¡±
¡°Switching,¡± came the quick response.
A few seconds later another voice spoke. ¡°Emergency services.¡±
¡°My mom is sick and throwing up and bleeding, we live on 601, 21st street!¡±
¡°Understood, the ambulance is on its way,¡± the operator said. ¡°Tell me about your mom, is she awake?¡±
¡°Yes, I just got home and I saw her throwing up, there¡¯s blood in the toilet and she told me to call the ambulance,¡± Alex said in a rush, torn between going back to checking on his mother and staying with the operator.
¡°Good, you''re doing a great job,¡± said the operator, ¡°the ambulance will be there in five to ten minutes? Just hold on, and let me know if anything changes.¡±
¡°Okay, I-¡±
¡°Alex? What''s going on?¡± James asked, peering into the open doorway.
¡°My mom''s sick, get your parents! And call my dad!¡±
James rushed off without another word, and ran back a minute later. ¡°My mom''s on the phone now, is there anything I should do?¡±
¡°I don¡¯t know, ask my mom if she needs help!¡±
Mrs. Wright arrived an eternity later, and she helped him carry his mom out to the front of the house, where the ambulance finally, finally arrived a few minutes later.
The trip to the hospital was a blur, and then his mother was ushered away, leaving him alone with James.
¡°Do you think she''ll be okay?¡± Alex asked, after several moments of silence.
¡°I¡hope so,¡± James said, not quite meeting his eyes.
¡°Alex, there you are.¡±
Alex jumped as a hand rested on his shoulder, then relaxed as he recognized his father.
¡°Dad? How¡¯s mom?¡±
¡°I spoke with the other doctors first; her appendix burst. She''s going to need surgery,¡± said his father, his face set and grim.
¡°Is¡she going to be okay?¡± Alex asked, searching his father¡¯s eyes for any hint of reassurance.
¡°Doctor Holt is one of the best surgeons in the hospital, and he¡¯ll be the one operating on her.¡±
Alex opened his mouth, wanting to point out that his question hadn¡¯t been answered, but the look in his father¡¯s eyes silenced him.
¡°James, you should go home,¡± dad suggested, changing the subject, ¡°your mother must be worried.¡±
¡°She¡¯s not, she told me to come with Alex and Mrs. Pryce,¡± James said, shaking his head. ¡°...And I would like to stay too, Mr. Pryce,¡± he added, when father regarded him silently.
¡°...very well, so long as your parents know you¡¯re here,¡± said father as he glanced around. ¡°I¡¯ll go check on your mother now, but I don¡¯t know when I¡¯ll be back. Stay here, understand?¡±
¡°Yes, dad,¡± Alex said, though his father had already disappeared through the swinging doors, having barely stayed long enough to listen.
¡°Do you¡want to talk?¡± James said, with uncharacteristic uncertainty.
¡°No.¡±
¡°Sorry,¡± James said, staring at the floor in front of him. ¡°I don¡¯t know how I can help. Do you want to be alon-¡±
¡°No,¡± Alex said, before James could even finish his sentence.
¡°...Alright then,¡± James said, slowly and cautiously. ¡°I¡¯m sure she¡¯ll be okay,¡± he said, after a moment¡¯s silence, ¡°your mom is tough ¨C almost as mean as my mom!¡±
¡°Heh, yeah, she is,¡± Alex said, chuckling a little. ¡°She¡¯ll be fine. She has to be.¡±
¡°Dad?¡± Alex asked drowsily, sitting up from his waiting room seat. ¡°Where were you? How¡¯s mom?¡±
¡°Alex.¡± His father kneeled down to look him in the eyes, and he knew something had gone horribly wrong. ¡°Doctor Holt did the best he could, but the infection had already spread too far. Your mother died a few minutes ago.¡±
¡°...w-what?¡± Alex stammered, his voice cracking. ¡°But I just talked to her earlier today!¡±
¡°I¡¯m sorry, Alex,¡± Stephen said, wrapping his arms around his son as he burst into tears. ¡°She¡¯s gone.¡±
¡°How are you feeling?¡± James asked quietly back home, a few hours after the funeral.
¡°I¡¯m¡okay,¡± Alex rasped, rubbing his reddened eyes. ¡°It¡¯s just¡¡±
¡°...just what?¡± James asked gently, when he failed to continue.
¡°It¡¯s just¡how can someone die so easily?¡± Alex wheezed. ¡°She was fine a few days ago. It¡¯s so unfair!¡±
¡°Life isn¡¯t fair,¡± James said, patting him on the back. ¡°That¡¯s what my dad always says.¡±
¡°Then I¡¯ll make it fair,¡± Alex said through gritted teeth. ¡°I¡¯m going to become a doctor, so no one will die like this again.¡±
¡°Hmm¡¡± James said neutrally, though Alex could tell he was conflicted about something.
¡°I¡±m sorry,¡± Alex said, ¡°I know we said we¡¯d do engineering or science together, but-¡±
¡°I know, I know,¡± James sighed, waving him off. ¡°But¡if you¡¯re going to be a doctor then you better be the most famous doctor ever, got it?¡±
Pryce smiled ¨C a weak smile, but it was the first he¡¯d had in days. ¡°Sounds fair to me.¡±
Six years later, 936/02/19
Alex had been on his way to the library when he saw another student¡¯s backpack split open, spilling contents out across the floor.
¡°Shit!¡± she swore, and kneeled to stuff the papers back into her backpack, holding it upside down so that the contents would not spill back out.
¡°Here,¡± Alex said, handing her a book that had fallen near him.
¡°Thanks,¡± she said, looking forlornly at her bag.
¡°The bookstore has a discount on backpacks right now. 25% off,¡± Alex said, unshouldering his own bag for her to see. ¡°They¡¯re not bad.¡±
¡°Oh, thanks for the tip,¡± she said, smiling as she stood back up.
¡°You¡¯re welcome,¡± Alex said, and continued on his way to the library. There he sat down, and studied to pass the time. Fortunately he didn¡¯t have to wait long; James arrived a few minutes later.
¡°So, how are your courses?¡± James asked as he arrived. He carried with him two cups of tea, one of which he placed on Alex¡¯s end of the table.
¡°Busy, as usual,¡± Alex said without taking his eyes off his textbook, his right hand busy scribbling his notes.
¡°So am I, but you can¡¯t spend all day cooped up in the library.¡±
Alex paused for a moment to raise his eyebrow at James. ¡°You know you only know that because you¡¯re here to see me, right?¡±
¡°Which is why I know when we should take a break!¡± Insisted James. ¡°Com¡¯on, you just finished midterms, right? You can afford to wind down for an afternoon.¡±
¡°...I have an essay due next week,¡± Alex sighed.
¡°Which means you have a whole week to do it!¡±
¡°You know, I¡¯m surprised you¡¯re so insistent on this,¡± Alex said, fully setting down his textbook. ¡°You usually spend all your free time on the pocketwatch-¡±
¡°-chronometer,¡± James corrected.
¡°-pocketwatch of yours. What model are you on now?¡±
¡°Just finished Mark 3!¡± James said smugly. ¡°It only loses 10 seconds per day now!¡±
¡°Right, and you¡¯ve suddenly lost interest because¡?¡±
¡°I haven¡¯t lost interest! I was just invited by some friends to a party in the south dorm, that¡¯s all.¡±
¡°...it¡¯s because there¡¯s a girl, isn¡¯t there?¡± Pryce deadpanned.
¡°No, it¡¯s not because there¡¯s a girl,¡± James huffed, rolling his eyes.
Alex raised his eyebrow. ¡°...it¡¯s because there¡¯s a guy?¡±
¡°No!¡± James denied vehemently, earning a few scolding glares from the nearby students. ¡°No,¡± he hissed quietly.
Alex stared, unconvinced.
¡°Alright fine, there is a girl,¡± James said, with emphasis on the determiner. ¡°Her name¡¯s Elizabeth, and-¡±
¡°Can¡¯t help you,¡± Alex said, going back to his textbook.
¡°Come on, lend me a hand!¡± James pleaded quietly.
¡°You know I don¡¯t know anything about this sort of thing,¡± Alex said, groaning in exasperation.
¡°Neither do I, but I want your support, alright?¡±
¡°...alright, fine,¡± Alex sighed, and ignored James¡¯s celebratory gesturing as he packed his books. ¡°Where is this place?¡±
Alex had spent the last ten minutes trying to find James, and was beginning to deeply regret coming to this party.
¡°Oh, it¡¯s you.¡±
Alex turned to see the speaker, and was surprised to see the girl from earlier. ¡°Hello. I didn¡¯t expect to see you here.¡±
¡°Me neither,¡± the girl chuckled. ¡°Oh! I never introduced myself: my name¡¯s Elizabeth. Elizabeth Kelly.¡±
¡°Alexander Pryce ¨C but everyone calls me Alex.¡±
¡°Alex,¡± Elizabeth nodded, ¡°which faculty are you in? I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve seen you around.¡±
¡°I¡¯m a first year student in the faculty of medicine,¡± Alex nodded. ¡°I¡¯m-¡±
¡°Alex, there you are!¡± James said, suddenly appearing out of the crowd. ¡°Oh, and you¡¯ve met Elizabeth already!¡±
¡°I have,¡± Alex said, and glanced back at Elizabeth. He wasn¡¯t the best at reading people, but even he could tell that she seemed mildly put-off by James, though the latter seemed completely oblivious to this fact. Alex had no issue admitting that James was far smarter than he was, but his brother was never the best with words.
Alex mentally sighed. James was definitely going to owe him for this later.
¡°Alex is a brother of mine,¡± James said, interrupting his train of thought.
¡°Really?¡± Elizabeth asked, surprised. ¡°But you don¡¯t look related, and aren¡¯t your last names-¡±
¡°We¡¯re not related by blood, but our families are old friends,¡± Alex explained. ¡°James isn¡¯t the best with words-¡±
¡°Hey!¡±
¡°But I¡¯ve never met anyone kinder or smarter than him,¡± Alex finished, earning a surprised look from the two of them.
¡°Well, you¡¯re not so bad yourself,¡± James said, his face flushing a little with embarrassment. ¡°Like he said, I¡¯m not good with words, so Alex is the one to talk to if you want to actually learn something.¡±
¡°...I see,¡± Elizabeth said in mildly thoughtful tones. ¡°A couple of friends of mine are meeting up after this party, would you two like to join us?¡±
¡°Sure!¡± James said.
¡°Sorry,¡± Pryce declined. ¡°I¡¯ve got some studies to catch up on.¡±
¡°Aleeeex,¡± James groaned.
¡°You already convinced me to come to this party, but now I have to go and be responsible,¡± Alex said, refusing to budge. ¡°Not everyone can finish their homework between classes like you can.¡±
¡°Well, that¡¯s not a bad mentality to have, but do give us a shout whenever you¡¯re free,¡± Elizabeth said.
¡°Will do,¡± Alex nodded. ¡°...so, what do you typically do at parties?¡±
Three years later, 939/01/30
¡°Well, guess we can call you ¡®Doctor Pryce¡¯ now, eh?¡± James said, throwing his arm over Alex¡¯s shoulders.
¡°That might be confusing, having two doctor Pryce¡¯s around,¡± Stephen commented, smiling drily.
¡°That is true,¡± Alex said, agreeing with his father. ¡°If anything it makes more sense to call you ¡®Doctor Wright¡¯.¡±
¡°Ugh, please no,¡± James said, recoiling away in mock horror. ¡°It makes me sound like some old man you¡¯ll see in a textbook.¡±
¡°I think ¡®Doctor Wright¡¯ sounds dignified,¡± Elizabeth commented, looping her arm around her boyfriend.
¡°Not you too,¡± James groaned. ¡°You¡¯re not going to make me call you ¡®Doctor Kelly, are you?¡±
¡°Well, I did work pretty hard for this title, you know,¡± Elizabeth hummed, ¡°it would be a shame if I didn¡¯t get to use it.¡±
¡°You should use it, son,¡± Gerson said, patting James on the shoulder. ¡°Not many people get the chance to pursue a higher education like you did.¡±
James paused, and suddenly looked a bit guilty. ¡°Oh¡alright,¡± he sighed, defeated.
¡°Well, if it makes you feel any better you¡¯re always going to be my baby boy,¡± chuckled Mrs. Wright.
¡°Mooom!¡± James hissed, while Elizabeth giggled into his side.
Stephen turned away from the group to clap his son on the shoulder. ¡°You¡¯ve done well for yourself. Your mother would be proud of you.¡±
Alex nodded, his lips pressed into a bittersweet smile. ¡°I know.¡±
2 years later, 941/10/28
In an empty break room, Doctor Pryce heaved as he wiped the vomit from his lips.
Memories of the past six months flashed in his mind.
An infant who had died of fever before being held by her mother.
A young child who had scraped his knee and died of the ensuing infection.
And just an hour ago, a young mother had died of sepsis, leaving behind a husband and two children.
He retched into the waste bin again.
1 day later, 941/10/29
¡°James,¡± Alex said, smiling as he hugged his brother. ¡°It¡¯s been too long; work has been far too busy.¡±
¡°Same, my supervisors just won¡¯t get off my back, even though I already designed them a whole new engine. I haven¡¯t had much time to tinker with the chronometer ¨C mark 6¡¯s been almost finished for ages,¡± James said, grinning as they each took a swig of their drinks. A moment of silence passed, which Alex thought to be companionable until James let out a long sigh.
¡°Alex, are you alright?¡±
¡°...of course I am,¡± Alex said, though he knew his smile was strained. ¡°The hospital¡¯s been busy, that¡¯s all.¡±
¡°But that¡¯s not everything, is it?¡± James asked, undeterred. ¡°Please Alex, I¡¯m worried about you.¡±
¡°...alright,¡± Alex sighed, and set down his glass. ¡°It¡¯s just¡there¡¯s so much death, every day. I try my best, but¡what am I even doing? I swore I¡¯d change things, but I haven¡¯t improved anything at all.¡±
James was silent for several moments, his gaze downcast and deep in thought. ¡°...I see,¡± he said, and poured himself a new drink. ¡°Why not change your career? Go into the sciences and do some research?¡±
¡°I¡¯ve thought of that,¡± Alex sighed, ¡°but¡there¡¯s so much work to be done at the hospital, I¡¡±
¡°So are you making a difference, or are you not?¡± James challenged, an eyebrow raised. ¡°The way I see it, the choice is clear,¡± he said, taking Alex¡¯s silence as an answer. ¡°Either you work yourself to death as a doctor, or you change jobs, and find an actual solution to the problem. You already have an idea of what to research, don¡¯t you?¡±
¡°...I¡¯ve been thinking about going into microbiology,¡± Alex admitted. ¡°It¡¯s a relatively young field of science, but there¡¯s some promising progress being made. I do think it makes sense for natural threats to be fought with natural weapons, it¡¯s just that¡¡±
¡°Just what?¡±
Alex sighed. ¡°It¡¯ll take another three years to get that degree. That¡¯s a long time.¡±
¡±Alex,¡± James said, and waited for his friend to look him in the eye. ¡°You¡¯re twenty-two. Most people wouldn¡¯t have even graduated yet.¡±
¡°...I¡guess I can work at the hospital part-time while I go back to university,¡± Alex said, scratching his head.
¡°Then it¡¯s settled!¡± James said, topping off their glasses. ¡°Soon you¡¯ll have two doctorates. Who knows, maybe by then you¡¯ll finally get a lady friend.¡±
Pryce rolled his eyes, but couldn¡¯t hide a smile as he held up his glass for a toast.
1 year later, 942/07/21
¡°The more I learn, the more concerned I become,¡± Alex said gravely. ¡°The last plague was two centuries ago, and we¡¯re far overdue for another one, especially when you take things like rising population densities and industrial farms into account.¡±
¡°That¡¯s a good point. Why haven¡¯t I heard of this before?¡± Elizabeth said, frowning. ¡°You can¡¯t be the only one who¡¯s worried about this.¡±
¡°People don¡¯t care about problems until they become a problem,¡± Alex snorted dismissively. ¡°Millions of lives are at risk, and yet the budget going into antibacterial research is a pittance compared to what the other faculties have.¡±
James leaned forward, furrowing his brow. ¡°What about your professors?¡± he asked.
¡°I helped my professor of infectious disease write a formal letter to the NHO,¡± Alex sighed. ¡°They ignored it. I¡¯ve also contacted a few science magazines; one of them offered to let us publish a snippet in an article of theirs, though I doubt it will amount to much.¡±
¡°Well, at least it¡¯s a start,¡± James shrugged.
¡°I suppose,¡± Alex nodded reluctantly. ¡°Sorry for the rant, you said you had something important to talk about?¡±
¡°I do,¡± James said, a grin spreading across his face as he threw an arm around Elizabeth. ¡°Guess who¡¯s getting married?¡±
Alex widened his eyes. ¡°It¡¯s about time, congratulations! When¡¯s the date?¡±
¡°Sixth day of the third month,¡± Elizabeth said, flashing the golden band on her pinky. ¡°At least that¡¯s what we have planned so far ¨C will you be able to make it?¡±
¡°I¡¯ll make sure to clear my calendar,¡± Alex nodded, taking note of the date. ¡°It¡¯s good that you two are finally getting married. You always were meant for each other.¡±
¡°I don¡¯t know about that,¡± James snorted. ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure she would¡¯ve shot me down if it weren¡¯t for you.¡±
Elizabeth grinned. ¡°As usual, you¡¯d be right, my dear,¡± she teased.
¡°So, need any help preparing for the wedding?¡± Alex asked.
¡°No, no,¡± James said, waving him off. ¡°Let us handle our own business.You¡¯re busy enough as it is with your studies and part time work.¡±
¡°Well, I¡¯m not certainly not disputing that,¡± Alex sighed. ¡°Well, it¡¯s been nice talking to you again, but I got a paper to write tomorrow. Same time next month?¡±
8 months later, 943/03/06
¡°Well, this has been far more draining than I expected,¡± James sighed, having just mingled his way through the gathered attendees ¨C a task that had taken the better part of an hour thanks to the handshakes, well-wishes, and the usual platitudes that came with a marriage.
¡°I¡¯m just glad your family isn¡¯t as big as mine,¡± Elizabeth sighed. ¡°Though I am deeply regretting my choice of footwear at the moment.¡±
¡°Look on the bright side,¡± Alex said, ¡°it¡¯s about time for the gifts.¡±
¡°Oh, so it is,¡± James said, looking a little surprised. ¡°I wasn¡¯t expecting much, but everyone¡¯s been so secretive about it that I can¡¯t help but wonder what there¡¯ll be.¡±
¡°Alright everyone, come over here!¡± came Gerson¡¯s voice through the microphone. ¡°It¡¯s time for the gifting ceremony!¡±
¡°Good timing,¡± James said, rising from his seat with a visible effort to stand opposite of his father.
Gerson cleared his throat as the crowd settled into place. ¡°It¡¯s been said several times by all of us here, but I¡¯ll say it again: Congratulations to the both of you on the next chapter of your lives. To celebrate, allow me to present to you a gift from all of us.¡± He said, throwing something at James.
¡who, of course, fumbled the catch.
¡°Gotcha,¡± Elizabeth said, catching the falling item just before it hit the ground, then held it up for all to see: a pair of shining car keys.
¡°You didn¡¯t,¡± James breathed, recognizing the logo on the keys.
¡°Well, I did say it was a gift from all of us,¡± Gerson said, beckoning them all outside the venue, where a shiny new car sat parked by the front door. ¡°And you two are going to need a car to drive a family around.¡±
¡°Naruna, this is a Castro Crown!¡± James said, gesturing to the vehicle. ¡°Just how much did this cost?¡±
¡°Don¡¯t worry about it,¡± Alex said, clapping James on the shoulder. ¡°The cost wasn¡¯t so bad ¨C not with so many people chipping in.¡±
¡°...I don¡¯t know what to say,¡± James said, looking around at the gathered friends and family. ¡°Thank you all so much.¡±
¡°Well? Give it a drive already!¡± one of James¡¯ uncles called out, much to the amusement of those gathered.
¡°Now? Can I?¡± James asked excitedly.
¡°It¡¯s your car,¡± Gerson said, gesturing towards the vehicle. ¡°You just might have to ask her first.¡±
James whipped around to see Elizabeth already in the driver¡¯s seat.
¡°Too slow, my dear,¡± she laughed as James scrambled into the passenger¡¯s side.
¡°Wait a minute,¡± James said, feeling something was off. ¡°...You knew dad was going to throw the keys at me, didn¡¯t you?¡±
¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about,¡± she said, whistling innocently as she revved the engine, ¡°but I definitely did not spend an entire day practicing how to catch fumbled keys.¡±
¡°I can¡¯t believe it, turning my own family against me,¡± James huffed, feigning hurt. ¡°I¡¯ll have you know that I won¡¯t let this insult go unanswered.¡±
¡°Promises promises,¡± Elizabeth smirked, and put the car into gear.
1 year later, 944/03/15
¡°Doctor Pryce, welcome,¡± Doctor Ainsley said as they shook hands. ¡°I¡¯ve heard good things from Doctor Fuller; I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll be a valuable addition to the team.¡±
¡°Thank you, I¡¯m glad to be here,¡± Pryce said, smiling. ¡°What should I start with?¡±
¡°Prioritize familiarizing yourself with our lab first, there¡¯s a lot to learn,¡± Doctor Ainsley said. ¡°Ah, here¡¯s Doctor Caldwell, he was the newest member of our team before you joined.¡±
¡°Looking forward to working with you,¡± Caldwell said, shaking his hand. ¡°Just let me know if you need anything, I¡¯ll be glad to show you the ropes.¡±
¡°Caldwell, introduce Doctor Pryce to the others, will you?¡± Ainsley asked. ¡°I¡¯ll be in my office if you need me.¡±
¡°Alright, I suppose I should give you the tour,¡± Caldwell said as Ainsley left. ¡°Follow me ¨C it¡¯s not a large place, but it¡¯s quite densely packed.¡±
¡°So, how do you like working here?¡± Pryce asked as they walked down the hallway.
¡°It¡¯s a good place with good people,¡± Caldwell shrugged. ¡°We¡¯re always fighting for more funding, but that¡¯s hardly unusual for a laboratory. Right now we¡¯re studying the composition of lysosomes in hopes of applying their mechanism to foreign bacteria ¨C but you already knew that, didn¡¯t you?¡±
¡°Yes, Ainsley¡¯s discovery of the lysosome was one of the main reasons why I applied to work under him,¡± Pryce said. ¡°Infection claims far too many lives; it¡¯s due time someone found a way to fight against it, and I¡¯ll help in any way I can.¡±
2 years later, 946/05/22
¡°Telegram for Doctor Pryce,¡± the secretary said, poking her head into the laboratory.
¡°Expecting something?¡± Caldwell asked.
¡°No, I¡¯m not sure what that could be,¡± Pryce said, frowning as he flipped over the typed message.
Alex,
I promised Stephen I wouldn¡¯t tell you this, but I¡¯m afraid I can¡¯t stay silent any longer.
Your father was diagnosed with dementia three years ago. He didn¡¯t want you to worry, or to ¡®waste your time with him¡¯, so he made us all swear to never tell you.
I¡¯m breaking my promise because he¡¯s taken a turn for the worse. The doctors say he should still have a few years left before things get really bad, but you should get a chance to talk to him before things get too bad.
Please come home as soon as you¡¯re able.
-Gerson
¡°You don¡¯t look so good,¡± Caldwell said. ¡°You alright?¡±
¡°I¡just received news that my father has dementia.¡±
¡°Oh Naruna,¡± Caldwell swore, ¡°I¡¯m sorry to hear that-¡±
¡°Where¡¯s Ainsley? I need to put in a leave of absence.¡±
¡°Oh good, you¡¯re finally here,¡± Mrs. Wright said, ushering him towards his father¡¯s house. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry it¡¯s come to this, dear, but we didn¡¯t know what to do.¡±
¡°It¡¯s fine. I understand it was a difficult choice,¡± Alex sighed. As they approached, voices became audible even through the front door.
¡°Stephen, be reasonable-¡±
¡°I am being reasonable,¡± Stephen insisted. ¡°All of you promised me not to tell him, and this is what you do?¡±
¡°You left me no choice,¡± Gerson growled. ¡°Just the other day, you left your house without pants on! Your son won¡¯t even get the chance to say goodbye at this rate ¨C are you really going to do that to him?¡±
¡°He¡¯s an adult now, he doesn¡¯t need me!¡± Stephen yelled, and a thud echoed through the front door. ¡°Why would I spend years unknowingly subjecting him to¡this!¡±
Alex opened the door to see the two men staring at him, and his father¡¯s fist upon a table.
¡°Father.¡±
¡°Alex,¡± Stephen sighed. ¡°How long have you been there?¡±
¡°Long enough. For the record, I agree with you.¡±
Stephen blinked. ¡°Good, I-¡±
¡°I am an adult, and that means I can make my own choices,¡± Alex said, setting down his bags. ¡°I¡¯ll be staying here from now on.¡±
¡°Absolutely not,¡± Stephen glowered, ¡°what about your job at¡at¡¡± he faltered, face contorted in frustration.
¡°...I worked at Auster, in a lab,¡± Alex said patiently. ¡°But I was approved to work at a lab here in Arkouda.¡±
¡°Fine,¡± Stephen spat before storming off. ¡°It¡¯s clear no one cares what I have to say. Do whatever you want.¡±
¡°Thank you for coming so soon,¡± Gerson said, laying a hand on his shoulder. ¡°I¡¯d hoped seeing you would make him see sense, but it seems I was wrong.¡±
¡°Don¡¯t take your father¡¯s words to heart,¡± Mrs. Wright said, laying a comforting hand on his shoulder, ¡°he¡¯s long since struggled to accept his diagnosis, and the memory loss has only made that harder.¡±
¡°I know,¡± Alex sighed. ¡°I don¡¯t blame him. It must be terrifying, having your memories disappear without you knowing.¡±
¡°Yes, well I¡¯m sure he¡¯s glad to see you, even if he doesn¡¯t show it,¡± Mrs. Wright said, and picked up his bags. ¡°Now, let¡¯s get you settled in for the night.¡±
¡°Alex?¡±
¡°Good morning,¡± Alex said, turning off the stove to glance at his father. ¡°I¡¯m making breakfast, how many eggs do you-¡±
¡°What are you doing here?¡± Stephen asked, staring at him in confusion.
¡°I¡¡± Alex trailed off as the cold reality of the situation began to sink in. ¡°I work in Arkouda now, remember?¡± he asked, hoping his voice didn¡¯t rasp.
¡°Oh, but¡,¡± Stephen said, brow furrowed. ¡°Since when?¡±
Alex turned back to the stove, his lips pressed into a thin line. ¡°Only recently. I¡¯m going to work soon, but I¡¯ll be back later today, alright?¡± he asked, setting down a plate of breakfast on the table.
¡°...I see,¡± his father murmured. ¡°I¡¯ll see you later, then.¡±
¡°Yes,¡± Alex said, picking up his work bag. ¡°...We¡¯ll talk later,¡± he said, gently resting a hand on his father¡¯s shoulder before leaving for work.
¡°I¡¯m home,¡± Alex said, closing the door behind him.
¡°Alex?¡± Came the confused response. A few seconds later his father poked his head out of his room to stare down the hallway. ¡°What are you doing here? Aren¡¯t you supposed to be in Auster?¡±
1 year later, 947/11/18
¡°He¡¯s¡doing better than the doctors expect,¡± Alex sighed.
¡°I¡¯m sorry I can¡¯t be of any help,¡± James¡¯ voice came through the telephone. ¡°Elizabeth¡¯s parents aren¡¯t doing so great either, so I have to stay and help when I can. I¡¯ve barely had any time to work on Mark 9 in the past few months, and-¡±
¡°It¡¯s fine,¡± Alex said. ¡°There¡¯s not much you could do to help anyway, even if you were here.¡± He paused. ¡°Sorry, that was a bit rude.¡±
¡°No, not at all,¡± James said, in a tone that always accompanied a dismissive wave. ¡°Maybe I¡¯ll see if I can visit sometime soon, it¡¯s been too long since we¡¯ve talked in person.¡±
¡°That would be nice,¡± Alex sighed. ¡°Well, I have to catch the tram now. Talk to you later?¡±
¡°Of course. Take care, brother.¡±
The commute home was rather uneventful, with Arkouda¡¯s usual cloudy winter skies blotting out the sun. Snow covered the ground, though it provided no impediment to the well-run tram system.
¡°Father, I¡¯m home,¡± Alex said, twenty minutes later. ¡°...father?¡±
An old feeling of dread settled in his stomach as no response came. He¡¯d hoped his father was merely sleeping, and hadn¡¯t fled the house as he had several times before.
¡°Father?¡±
Relief flooded through him when he saw his father¡¯s hand on the armrest, facing away from him.
He quietly turned around and made his way to the kitchen, and quietly prepared dinner so as to not disturb his sleeping father.
The cold weather put him in the mood for some soup, so he used yesterday¡¯s leftovers to make a simple stew, and boiled some noodles to go with it.
¡°Father, dinner¡¯s ready,¡± Alex said, stepping into the living room. ¡°Father?¡± he repeated, walking towards the armchair. Gently, he rested a hand on his father¡¯s shoulder to wake him, as he had done so many times before.
No response.
¡°Father?¡± Alex shook his father harder, and still he did not stir.
Slowly, Alex raised his hand to touch his father¡¯s face.
And found it cold.
2 weeks later, 947/11/34
¡°...do you know what happened?¡± James asked quietly. Most of the attendees had left with the end of the funeral, leaving the two of them alone before the headstone, save for their closest relatives who quietly conversed at a distance.
Alex took in a deep, shuddering breath. ¡°According to the coroner, the cause of death was a massive heart attack. He died shortly before I got home.¡±
¡°Fuck,¡± James swore. ¡°Damnit, I¡¯m so sorry, I should have been there.¡±
¡°It¡¯s fine,¡± Alex sighed. ¡°It was unexpected, but I¡¯ve had a long time to accept that he¡¯s gone. I¡¯m ashamed to admit it, but I¡¯m just¡relieved, that it¡¯s over.¡±
¡°I don¡¯t think anyone could blame you,¡± James said, gently resting a hand on his shoulder. ¡°I just wish I could have done something to help.¡±
¡°...Thanks.¡± Alex had not cried during the ceremony, but now his eyes had inexplicably begun to water. ¡°But it¡¯s fine, he¡¯s¡he¡¯s¡¡±
¡°Hey, come here,¡± James said, pulling his friend into an embrace. ¡°It¡¯s alright. It¡¯ll be alright.¡±
Around them, snowflakes gently began to flutter to the ground.
1 week later, 947/12/06
¡°I¡¯m surprised you moved,¡± Alex said to James¡¯ parents. ¡°Didn¡¯t you two love that old home?¡±
¡°That we did,¡± Mrs. Wright chuckled, ¡°but everyone seems to be living in Auster these days, and it¡¯s such a bother asking all of you to travel so far just for a yearly gathering. Besides, living in these warmer climes might help my gardens finally bear some fruit,¡± she added, with a bit of self-deprecating laughter.
¡°Well, I won¡¯t argue that it makes it easier for us,¡± James admitted. ¡°Speaking of¡if everyone could give us a moment? We have some important news to share.¡±
¡°Oh? What is it?¡± Gerson asked.
¡°We were going to announce this earlier, but it seemed better to wait until everyone was here for Narumas,¡± Elizabeth said as she stepped forward with her hands over her belly. ¡°We¡¯re going to have a baby.¡±
¡°Oh my! Congratulations!¡± Margrit exclaimed, hands over her mouth, while her husband beamed widely beside her.
¡°About damn time, I had half a mind to start bugging you two about it,¡± Gerson snorted, and heartily clapped James on the shoulder.
¡°We¡¯ve been waiting for the right time!¡± James said defensively, though he couldn¡¯t keep the smile off his face as he turned to Alex.
¡°Congratulations!¡± Alex said, pulling James into a hug, ¡°when did you two find out?¡±
¡°Liz told me two weeks ago, but of course she found out a whole week before that,¡± James said with mock indignation.
¡°The doctor expects my due date to be in about 6 months,¡± Elizabeth said, ignoring her husband¡¯s glare with practiced ease. ¡°We¡¯ve already been preparing our home for the baby.¡±
¡°Do you have a name picked out?¡± Mrs. Wright asked excitedly.
¡°...we¡¯re thinking about it,¡± James said, with a shared glance with Elizabeth.
¡°Well, this calls for a celebration,¡± Gerson grinned, and disappeared to retrieve a bottle of wine. ¡°I¡¯m going to be a grandfather!¡±
7 months later, 948/07/12
Alex rushed through the hospital, barely stopping to read the signs before he came to a halt outside of a delivery room.
How''s she doing?¡± Alex panted, garnering James¡¯ attention.
James opened his mouth, presumably to explain, but was interrupted by a scream from the delivery room.
¡°The nurses tell me that¡¯s normal,¡± James said, wringing his hands. ¡°But that¡¯s honestly not very reassuring.¡±
Alex flinched as another scream tore through the hallways. The gruesome sights and sounds within a hospital were hardly new to him, but it was quite different for the patient to be someone he personally knew. ¡°How long has it been since she¡¯s gone into labor?¡±
¡°One hour now,¡± James replied, fidgeting restlessly. ¡°So, how are things at the lab?¡±
Alex stared. ¡°Is that the most pertinent thing to talk about right now?¡±
¡°Look, I¡¯ve been fretting myself to pieces ever since she started screaming, and the damn nurses won¡¯t let me be in the room with her because I¡¯m apparently a health risk, so talk to me about something or I¡¯m going to start losing my marbles.¡±
¡°Uh¡¡± Alex stammered, ¡°Alright, I¡¯ll start with what we figured out about lysosomes¡¡±
¡°...and that¡¯s about it,¡± Alex said, shrugging helplessly.
James winced as a particularly loud scream emanated from the delivery room. ¡°Well, I hope you and your colleagues work quickly. Only hospital staff are allowed in the labor room to reduce the risk of infection; if it weren¡¯t for that then I could be in there with her,¡± he grumbled bitterly.
¡°I know, I know. We just can¡¯t figure out a way to take advantage of their antibacterial nature,¡± Alex said, and laid a reassuring hand on his brother¡¯s shoulder.
James only sighed, and pulled out a shiny round device. ¡°She¡¯s been in labor for six hours now. The average range for the first birth is 12-24 hours.¡±
¡°Is that¡?¡±
¡°Yep, it¡¯s the Mark 9,¡± James said, faintly smiling. ¡°I was testing it when Liz went into labor. It only loses 0.3 seconds every day, but I think it¡¯s still a bit too large¡might try to fix that with the next version. Not that I¡¯ll expect to have much time to work on that, what with the baby and all.¡±
¡°Understandable,¡± Alex said. After a moment, he asked, ¡°are you hungry? I can go get something if you want.¡±
¡°No, I¡¯m not hungry.¡± James paused. ¡°Maybe a sandwich or something for Liz when it¡¯s finally over? Do you think she would be in the mood to eat? Surely she¡¯ll be exhausted, but I don¡¯t know if she¡¯ll be hungry.¡±
¡°I¡¯ll buy her something.¡±
¡°And do hurry,¡± James sighed. ¡°I know she¡¯s having it infinitely worse than I am, but it¡¯s nice to have someone distracting me.¡±
Alex nodded reassuringly. ¡°Will do.¡±
The labor continued for several hours. During that time James and Elizabeth¡¯s family arrived to lend their support to James, and their presence visibly comforted the father-to-be.
They all tensed when the delivery room fell silent, and James stood up when raised voices emanated through the door.
A heartbeat passed.
Then another.
And then the door slid open.
¡°You can come in now,¡± a nurse said, beckoning them into the room.
¡°How is she?¡± James demanded, then turned to see Elizabeth ¨C pale, completely exhausted, but alive, and in her arms was a bundle of cloth. ¡°Elizabeth, are you alright?!¡± James asked as he rushed over to his wife.
¡°Yeah¡I¡¯m okay,¡± Elizabeth rasped, her voice barely intelligible.
¡°Congratulations, Mr. Wright,¡± the doctor smiled, ¡°you are now the father of a healthy baby boy.¡±
¡°Oh, that¡¯s good,¡± James said.
And then he fainted.
¡°Oh, he is just the cutest little thing!¡± Mrs. Wright said, gently rocking the sleeping baby in her arms. ¡°Please tell me you two have decided on a name.¡±
¡°Arthur,¡± Elizabeth said, smiling softly. ¡°His name is Arthur.¡±
¡°Arthur Wright,¡± Mr. Wright said experimentally. ¡°Sounds like a strong name. I like it.¡±
¡°Alex, won¡¯t you hold onto the baby for a moment? I need to go unpack the rest of my things,¡± Mrs. Wright said as she offered him the helpless baby.
¡°Me?¡± Alex said, holding his arms up haltingly. ¡°No no no, I¡¯ve never held a baby before.¡±
¡°It¡¯ll be fine,¡± Mrs. Wright said warmly, ¡°it¡¯s not as if you¡¯re going to drop him, are you?¡±
¡°Well¡no¡¡± Alex said uncertainly. He glanced at Elizabeth and James for help, only to see them nodding their consent.
¡°See? Not so hard now, is it?¡± Mrs. Wright asked as he tightly held onto the bundle of cloth, the baby himself barely registering in his arms.
¡°Hard to believe how small he is, isn¡¯t it?¡± James said, moving to stand beside him.
¡°Yeah¡¡± Alex said faintly, offering the child back to his father.
¡°Hold onto him a bit longer,¡± James said, surprising Alex. ¡°I¡¯ve been meaning to ask you something: what do you say about being Arthur¡¯s godfather?¡±
Alex blinked, flummoxed. ¡°Excuse me?¡±
¡°We¡¯ve discussed it earlier, Elizabeth and I,¡± James said, nodding at his wife, ¡°you¡¯ve been a brother to me my whole life, and I¡¯d be honored if you¡¯d be the godfather of my son.¡±
¡°But I¡I don¡¯t know anything about raising babies,¡± Alex stammered, face flushed with discomfort.
¡°Neither do we,¡± James shrugged. ¡°And besides, that¡¯s what my mother¡¯s moving in for. It¡¯s not like we¡¯re expecting you to raise him yourself,¡± he chuckled.
¡°Sorry for springing this on you,¡± Elizabeth said from her bed. ¡°You don¡¯t have to decide now.¡±
¡°No¡I accept,¡± Alex said, surprising himself a little. Arthur wasn¡¯t his son, and he had never particularly desired to be a parent, but holding the baby had stirred unfamiliar paternal feelings within him, and he found himself all too happy to accept this unexpected role. ¡°Arthur,¡± he said, smiling. ¡°My godson.¡±
2 months later, 948/09/06
¡°He¡¯s finally stopped crying so much,¡± James sighed. These last two months had exhausted him more than anything Alex had seen him do, including the number of all-nighters he¡¯d done through his university studies. Alex wasn¡¯t sure if the bags under James and Elizabeth¡¯s eyes were any smaller than they had been a week ago, but he decided against voicing that observation.
¡°So, any progress at the lab?¡± James asked. It had become a tradition for him to ask every few days now.
¡°No, still nothing major,¡± Alex sighed. ¡°We just can¡¯t isolate the inhibitor, no matter what we try, and we¡¯ve still barely received any additional funding!¡±
¡°Still?¡±
¡°It¡¯s too hard to isolate, so everyone thinks it won¡¯t ever be practical,¡± Alex growled. ¡°We can¡¯t think of any way to convince them to give us more funding without first isolating the inhibitor¡which we need funding to get. If only they weren¡¯t so damn short-sighted!¡±
¡°Language,¡± James reflexively said. ¡°Sorry. You¡¯ll find a way,¡± he said, reassuringly, then wrinkled his nose. ¡°Ah. Looks like someone needs to have their diaper changed¡again.¡±
¡°I¡¯ll handle it,¡± Alex said, sitting up before James could rise from his seat. ¡°You go ahead and take a break.¡±
¡°You are a godsend,¡± James sighed, melting back into his chair. Within seconds he began to snore stentoriously.
¡°Alright little guy,¡± Alex said, holding the baby at arm¡¯s length. ¡°Let¡¯s get you cleaned up.¡±
4 months later, 949/01/07
¡°He¡¯s going to say his first words soon,¡± Elizabeth said confidently. ¡°I just know it.¡±
¡°It would be a bit early, but he has been babbling more than usual,¡± James agreed.
¡°That¡¯s exciting,¡± Alex called out from the bathroom. He was currently changing Arthur¡¯s diaper while the parents prepared dinner. ¡°I assume you two have placed your bets?¡±
¡°If he calls me ¡®papa¡¯ first, I win. If he calls her ¡®mama¡¯ first, she wins,¡± James explained. ¡°Loser has to do the dishes for a week,¡± he said smugly.
¡°I see,¡± Alex chuckled as he finished changing the diaper. ¡°Alright, nice and clean. Doesn¡¯t that feel so much better, little Art?¡±
¡°Gaga,¡± Arthur babbled, reaching for one of his toys.
¡°Of course,¡± Alex chuckled, ¡°here you go, little guy.¡±
Arthur eagerly grabbed the toy, then happily babbled, ¡°mama!¡±
Alex froze.
He waited for James or Elizabeth to come storming in, but several seconds passed without their comment. Apparently they hadn¡¯t heard Arthur¡¯s first words.Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.
Alex warily eyed Arthur, who had gone back to babbling nonsense.
¡perhaps he had misheard.
¡°Art¡¯s clean now,¡± he said, bringing the baby into the kitchen. ¡°Need help with anything else?¡±
¡°No, thank you,¡± Elizabeth said as she set a crock of steaming stew on the table. ¡°Just put Arthur back in his cradle; I¡¯ll nurse him in a moment.¡±
Alex opened his mouth to reply, but Arthur chose at that moment to interrupt.
¡°Mama.¡±
James and Elizabeth froze.
Alex winced, and slowly glanced down at baby Art.
¡°Mama!¡± he said, very clearly raising his arms at Alex.
¡°Ah,¡± Alex said.
¡°Shit,¡± James swore, then turned to Liz. ¡°Does this mean we both have to do the chores?¡±
¡°Well, I guess it¡¯s not too surprising, considering how much time you¡¯ve spent around him,¡± Elizabeth said as Alex placed Arthur in his cradle.
¡°Sorry,¡± Alex said, adjusting his glasses awkwardly.
¡°Don¡¯t worry about it,¡± James said good-naturedly. ¡°At least we can still look forward to his first¡steps?¡±
Alex and Elizabeth followed James¡¯ line of sight to see Arthur standing up in his cradle, walking towards his mother.
¡°Good job!¡± his parents simultaneously cheered, though they had to catch Arthur just before he toppled over.
¡°First words and first steps on the same day!¡± James proudly announced as he hoisted Arthur up into the air. ¡°That¡¯s my boy!¡±
¡°Dear, put him down now-¡± Elizabeth said hurriedly ¨C but she was too late. Just as she voiced her warning, a deluge of half-digested baby food poured out of Arthur¡¯s mouth and directly onto his father¡¯s face.
3 years later, 951/03/03
¡°Pryce, long time no see,¡± Caldwell said, shaking his hand. ¡°I¡heard about your father, I¡¯m so sorry.¡±
¡°It¡¯s alright,¡± Pryce sighed. ¡°It¡¯s been a few years anyway, and I¡¯m glad to have you back. How was Vestige?¡±
¡°Great,¡± Caldwell said, smiling. ¡°It''s a beautiful city, though if I¡¯m being honest their labs left something to be desired. Mind catching me up on current events?¡±
¡°Sure,¡± Pryce shrugged. ¡°We¡¯ve been making steady progress, but nothing extraordinary,¡± he said, waving at a table full of petri dishes. ¡°These are samples from a batch of volunteers we gathered up; we¡¯re currently trying to see how sickness affects the antimicrobial effects of nasal fluid.¡±
¡°That doesn¡¯t sound easy,¡± Caldwell commented. ¡°How are you controlling for the type and severity of illness?¡±
¡°For type we simply provided a free diagnosis, and for severity we offered a survey. Of course, in practice the data is rather messy, but when is it not?¡± Pryce asked, then paused as he peered at the petri dishes. ¡°Oh. That¡¯s funny.¡±
¡°What is it?¡± Caldwell asked. ¡°Huh, that one¡¯s quite moldy.¡±
¡°It is,¡± Pryce agreed, slowly.
¡°I guess it can¡¯t be helped,¡± Caldwell shrugged. ¡°Some contamination always gets in, right?¡±
¡°No, that¡¯s not what I meant,¡± Pryce said with growing excitement, and pointed at the distinct line between the bacterial colony and the mycelium with a trembling finger. ¡°There¡¯s no bacteria on the mold.¡±
¡°I don¡¯t see how-¡± Caldwell trailed off, then his eyes widened. ¡°Oh.¡±
1 year later, 952/04/06
¡°Hi Uncle Alex!¡± Arthur greeted as he ran towards his godfather.
¡°Hey there, Art,¡± Alex said, crouching down to receive him in a hug. ¡°Have you been a good boy?¡±
¡°Yeah! Papa gave me a new toy!¡± Arthur said, proudly holding up a nostalgic old device.
¡°Wow,¡± Alex said, ¡°do you know what the parts are called?¡±
¡°Uh-huh! Papa¡¯s teaching me!¡±
¡°Of course he is,¡± Alex said as he affectionately ruffled his godson¡¯s hair. ¡°Now, where are your parents?¡±
¡°Over here!¡± came James¡¯ voice from the kitchen. ¡°How¡¯re things at the lab?¡±
¡°Slow and steady,¡± Alex sighed, which had become his typical answer ever since no important developments had occurred regarding the antibiotic. They were able to prove that the fungi produced some kind of bacterial inhibitor, but no one was interested in funding it because it ¡®lacked promise¡¯, especially when they couldn¡¯t isolate it.. ¡°I see you found an old toy for Arthur,¡± Alex said, repressing his workplace frustrations.
¡°Yep! Found it while digging through some old things. It took some fixing up, but Arthur loved playing with it,¡± James said, beaming with pride. ¡°Anyway, are you ready for the movie? I hear it¡¯s really something.¡±
¡°I¡¯m ready to leave whenever you are, and yes ¨C Caldwell¡¯s been going off about it as well,¡± Alex chuckled. ¡°He¡¯s treating it like it¡¯s the second coming of Naruna.¡±
¡°Well, I guess we¡¯ll have to see about that, won¡¯t we?¡± Elizabeth said, scooping Arthur up in her arms. ¡°I¡¯ll be in the car when you two are ready.¡±
¡°Wow, that was amazing!¡± James exclaimed as they left the theater. ¡°I can¡¯t believe they made a whole animated movie! Just one of those frames would¡¯ve been enough work; I can¡¯t imagine how long it took to draw all of them.¡±
¡°Three years and almost two hundred thousand frames,¡± Alex said, reciting the number from Caldwell¡¯s ravings.
¡°It really was something,¡± Elizabeth sighed. Perhaps unsurprisingly, Arthur had fallen asleep shortly after the movie had begun, and had to be carried out by his mother. ¡°It really makes you wonder what¡¯s in store for the future.¡±
¡°What do you mean?¡± Alex asked.
¡°Well, movies have more or less replaced plays,¡± Elizabeth pointed out. ¡°Perhaps one day everything will be animated, or at least they¡¯d likely be quite common.¡±
¡°Really?¡± James asked, raising a doubtful eyebrow. ¡°I don¡¯t see how that could be possible. Animated movies are just too much work. Someone still has to draw each frame, no matter how much technology improves.¡±
Elizabeth shrugged. ¡°People have said similar things about movies.¡±
¡°I suppose there¡¯s no way for us to know, at least not until we''re old and wrinkly,¡± Alex chuckled.
¡°Who knows? Maybe by then you¡¯ll even be married,¡± James teased, then dodged a playful jab at his shoulder. ¡°Too slow!¡± he taunted, then broke into a run as Alex began chasing him.
¡°Don¡¯t take too long, our reservation is in half an hour!¡± Elizabeth called out after them. ¡°Ugh. Don¡¯t be so silly when you grow up, alright, Art?¡±
¡°Mmm,¡± Arthur mumbled, still half-asleep.
2 months later, 952/06/14
¡°Alex!¡± James exclaimed as Alex opened the door. ¡°Did you hear?!¡±
¡°I did! Where-¡±
¡°-Look, on TV!¡±
Alex turned to stare at the black and white television, which was tuned into the local news channel.
And there, in black and white, was the clear and unmistakable image of another island.
¡°Holy hell,¡± Alex breathed.
¡°I know!¡± James agreed enthusiastically. ¡°The Longshot program finally succeeded!¡±
Alex was about to voice his own excitement when Elizabeth walked into the room, with Arthur following closely behind her. ¡°What is that?¡± the child asked, drawn by the commotion.
¡°See that? That¡¯s another island,¡± James explained, picking Arthur up. ¡°That¡¯s a place that no one else has been to before, isn¡¯t it exciting?¡±
Arthur stared wide-eyed in amazement at the television, the 5-year-old clearly transfixed by the fuzzy image. ¡°Are there dinosaurs there?¡±
¡°Maybe!¡± James laughed.
¡°Really? When can I go?¡±
James¡¯ laughter abruptly died, and he seemed to realize that ¡®when¡¯ was indeed more accurate than ¡®if¡¯. After all, finding the continent was half the difficulty. ¡°Maybe when you¡¯re older,¡± James conceded. ¡°But only if you study hard!¡±
¡°I wanna see Alectosaurus! And Archaeoceratops! And Gobisaurus!¡± Arthur cheered, apparently not having heard this condition.
¡°Alright alright, I¡¯m sure you will,¡± James said, and set Arthur back down.
¡°Do we know how big it is?¡± Elizabeth asked.
¡°About four thousand kilometers long,¡± James answered. ¡°Not huge, but there¡¯s quite a bit of coastline. Most of it is further south than the Mainland as well, which means no hurricanes thanks to the coriolis effect-¡±
Elizabeth groaned. ¡°I keep telling you, that tiny amount of force isn¡¯t going to magically keep the equator free from hurricanes.¡±
¡°I think it will,¡± James said, undeterred. ¡°Alex agrees with me, right Alex?¡±
¡°No comment,¡± Alex said, resisting the urge to smile.
¡°Coward,¡± James grumbled. ¡°Anyway, If I had to guess, it¡¯s prime real estate.¡±
¡°Don¡¯t tell me you¡¯re seriously considering going there,¡± Elizabeth said in appalled tones.
¡°I won¡¯t be on the first ship, I¡¯m not crazy,¡± James said, hands raised defensively. ¡°Now, second or third? That sounds a lot more - ow! I was joking!¡±
6 months later, 953/01/10
¡°We got it!¡± Alex announced as he burst through the door.
¡°Got what?¡± James said, confused. Then he blinked as he processed what Alex had said. ¡°Wait, you mean you isolated the inhibitor?!¡±
¡°Yes! And I named it ¡®penicillin¡¯,¡± Alex said excitedly. ¡°Caldwell had the idea to use something he called reverse extraction to recover the penicillin from the solvent, giving us a water solution rich with penicillin! From there we just needed to freeze-dry it to get a powder!¡±
¡°That¡¯s amazing!¡± James cheered.
¡°I know! We just sent a sample for x-ray crystallography, and we should get the results in a few days. Now they have to give us a grant!¡±
Two days later, 953/01/12
¡°They''re not giving us any grants,¡± Alex sighed.
¡°Of course they aren¡¯t,¡± James snorted. ¡°What was their reasoning now?¡±
¡°Let me guess,¡± Elizabeth said, Elizabeth said, adopting a mock aristocratic tone. ¡°¡®As penicillin has yet to go through any clinical trials, we regret to inform you that we cannot afford to invest in this venture at this time¡¯.¡±
¡°That¡¯s¡almost verbatim,¡± Alex said, a little surprised. ¡°Though they weren¡¯t quite so polite.¡±
Elizabeth shrugged. ¡°Administrators all talk in the same way. My colleagues and I run into the same problems. You just have to keep trying.¡±
¡°I know,¡± Alex sighed. ¡°Though I hope it won¡¯t take them much longer to see reason.¡±
2 years later, 954/11/19
¡°Phone call for Doctor Pryce,¡± the secretary announced.
Pryce frowned, finding it odd that someone would call him at this hour. Elizabeth and James both knew he was staying late at the lab today, and they had gone to celebrate their anniversary, so it seemed unlikely that they¡¯d be the ones calling him. Mrs. Wright was looking after Arthur, maybe she needed help with something? But then where was her husband?
¡°Any idea what that¡¯s about?¡± Caldwell asked.
¡°No¡¡± Pryce said uncertainly, and followed the secretary back to the telephone. ¡°Hello?¡±
¡°Hello, is this Doctor Pryce?¡± came an unfamiliar voice.
Pryce cleared his throat, and hoped nothing terrible had happened. ¡°Yes, speaking.¡±
¡°I work at the Concordia hospital as a nurse, and I have your name listed as an emergency contact for a James and Elizabeth Wright, is that correct?¡±
¡°That¡is correct, yes,¡± Pryce managed. A terrible feeling was welling in his gut, and he only barely stopped himself from demanding what happened.
¡°I¡¯m sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but they were involved in a vehicular accident.¡±
The train ride to the hospital was the longest Alex had ever taken. He sprinted out the doors the moment they opened, nearly knocking several people over. He ignored their indignant insults, and kept running until he reached the hospital several minutes later.
¡°James, Wright,¡± he said to the receptionist, heaving between words.
¡°292A, his wife is in the neighboring room-¡±
Pryce didn¡¯t stay to hear the rest, and immediately bolted straight towards what he recognized as an emergency room. He flew down familiar hallways and corridors, feeling wretchedly sick in every sense of the word. He skidded to a stop at his destination, nearly slamming into an old colleague of his.
¡°Pryce,¡± said Doctor Hart, ¡°I recognized your name on the emergency contacts ¨C I¡¯m sorry. The other driver was intoxicated, he died on impact-¡±
¡°What about James?! And Elizabeth?!¡± Pryce snapped, panting and nearly manic with distress.
¡°The woman ¨C Elizabeth ¨C was severely injured. I¡¯m sorry, but she died several minutes ago,¡± Hart said, laying a steadying hand on Alex¡¯s shoulder.
It did nothing to help. Each word was like a knife dragging through his chest. Pryce opened his mouth, and only barely managed to ask, ¡°...James?¡±
¡°We stopped the external bleeding, but he¡¯s lost a lot of blood. Several of his organs were severely damaged, including his liver and lungs. He¡¯s not going to make it.¡± Hart stepped aside, holding open the door. ¡°He still has some time left, if you want to say goodbye.¡±
Pryce barely heard what his fellow doctor said, and numbly pushed past him to see his friend for himself.
The beeping of an EKG. The glint of bloodstained surgical tools. These were all things he had seen countless times before, but they did not prepare him for the sight of James lying in the middle of it all. Alex could barely even recognize his friend; James¡¯ bright, usually-smiling face was covered in bruises and bandages, and his singular unswollen eye blinked blearily in recognition as Alex stepped towards him.
¡°James?¡± Alex asked hoarsely.
¡°Al¡lex,¡± James managed before coughing wetly, forcing blood up and out his mouth.
Alex opened his mouth to say something, anything.
But nothing came out.
¡°L¡Liz?¡± James wheezed, each syllable sounding as if it took every ounce of effort he had to muster.
¡°She¡¯s¡she didn¡¯t make it,¡± Alex choked, his vision blurring. ¡°James, I-¡± he tried to say, but was interrupted by his brother¡¯s rasp.
¡°Ar¡thur,¡± James managed, before a coughing fit interrupted him. More blood splattered across his chest, but even so he raised a bandaged arm to grip Alex¡¯s wrist with shocking force.
¡°I¡¯ll look after him, I p-promise,¡± Alex managed, firmly gripping him back. ¡°I promise.¡±
James relaxed his grasp, and looked at Alex with his one good eye. ¡°I¡know¡¡± he wheezed, quietly, so quietly. The dying man gave one last gasp, his mouth working, still clearly trying to speak ¨C but the words never came, and with one final, rattling sigh, his eyelids slid shut for the last time in his life.
¡°No no no,¡± Alex said, his voice cracking as he clutched his friend, his brother, as if that could do a thing to counter death. Faintly, he became aware of an electronic ringing noise.
The EKG had flatlined.
Suddenly, there was a noise behind him, and through tear-filled eyes he saw Mrs. Wright standing in the doorway, her mouth covered in horror.
¡°Go home and rest, Alex,¡± Mr. Wright said, his voice raw with grief. I¡¯ll take care of Arthur.¡±
¡°No,¡± Alex rasped. Mrs. Wright was still at the hospital, filling out paperwork. This was the least he could do. ¡°I¡¯ll talk to him.¡±
¡°You don¡¯t have to do this, son.¡±
¡°Yes, I do,¡± Alex said, undeterred. ¡°I made a promise.¡±
Gerson sighed, but rested a hand on his shoulder. ¡°We¡¯ll do it together, then.¡±
Alex nodded, unable to argue.
They had spent hours in the hospital, and Arthur had long since gone to sleep by the time they¡¯d returned home.
¡°Hey, Arthur?¡± Alex said, opening the door to his godson¡¯s bedroom. ¡°Are you awake?¡±
¡°Mmm?¡± Arthur murmured, blinking blearily as he sat up. ¡°Uncle Alex? Grandpa? Why¡¯d you wake me up?¡± he asked, a little peevishly. ¡°It¡¯s still dark outside.¡±
The casual irritation caught Alex off-guard, and for a moment he nearly wished to leave, if only for the child to live in blissful ignorance for just one night longer, to pretend that his parents were still alive and well¡but no, it was too late for that. Arthur was a clever boy, and he had already noticed something was wrong.
¡°Arthur, there¡¯s something important we need to tell you,¡± Gerson said as he sat down upon a chair. The normally straight-backed man now sat with a hunch, and Alex could not help but notice how old he seemed. ¡°You know your mother and father went to celebrate their anniversary, right?¡±
¡°They told me that before they left,¡± Arthur said, rubbing his eyes in confusion. ¡°I wanted to come with, but they said the anniversary was just for them,¡± he grumbled with a pout.
Gerson paused at this, his lips pressed into a thin line as he considered what next to say.
¡°Your mother and father had an¡accident on the way to the restaurant,¡± Alex said gently. Arthur blinked, uncomprehending, and Alex took Gerson¡¯s silence as permission to continue. ¡°The ambulance took them to the hospital, but they died a few hours ago.¡±
¡°Oh,¡± Arthur said, frowning. ¡°Like Tommy¡¯s dad?¡±
¡°Yes, like Tommy¡¯s dad,¡± Alex, his voice breaking.
¡°So¡mom and dad aren¡¯t coming back?¡± Arthur asked, his voice straining a little.
¡°No¡they¡¯re not coming back,¡± Gerson said, tears running anew down his face. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry, my boy.¡±
¡°But¡mom and dad were okay before they left,¡± Arthur said, sounding more confused than grieved. ¡°And dad said he was going to teach me more math tomorrow.¡±
¡°I know,¡± Alex said, and swept his godson up into a tight embrace. ¡°I know.¡±
¡°I don¡¯t wanna not see them again,¡± Arthur said as he finally began to cry. ¡°I¡I¡¡±
Gerson leaned forward, gently hugging the both of them even as he began to cry.
Together, they all mourned the family that had so suddenly been ripped away from them.
One week later, 954/11/26
Knock knock knock
Pryce tiredly rolled out of bed to answer the door. He wasn¡¯t expecting anything or anyone, and had no idea what this could be about.
He opened the door and winced as the sun blinded him. It took a few seconds for his watering eyes to adjust, and when they did he saw a deliveryman standing in front of him.
¡°Delivery for Alexander Pryce,¡± the man said.
¡°That¡¯s me,¡± Pryce said, his voice cracking under the light strain.
¡°Sign here.¡±
Pryce numbly signed the document and accepted the parcel. It seemed rather professionally packaged, though the sender¡¯s name was completely unfamiliar to him. He numbly bid the man farewell, and sat down in his living room to stare at the package.
Eventually he decided to get it over with, and began cutting open the packaging. First came the tape, and the box opened up to reveal a smaller, more refined box inside, with a handwritten note taped onto the lid.
Greetings Doctor Pryce,
My name is Randal Blair; I am a jeweler who was commissioned by Mr. James Wright before his untimely death. I used the contact information he left behind to speak with Mr. Gerson Wright, who recommended that I send this item directly to you.
You have my utmost condolences, and I hope the item is to your satisfaction.
¨CR. Blair
Pryce set the letter aside, and with trembling hands, he lifted the lid.
Inside the package sat what was unmistakably a chronometer, though not any version that Pryce could recognize. On the front, words could be seen engraved in cursive.
Mk. 10
Wright Marine Chronometer
Gently, Pryce reached into the box and picked up the device. Flipping it over, he saw more text engraved upon the backside.
For A. Pryce
Pryce held the stainless steel device for a long time. Then, he clutched it close to his chest, and cried.
2 months later, 955/01/20
¡°Alright everyone, I¡¯m happy to announce that we¡¯ve received the grant from Layton,¡± Doctor Ainsley said, causing excited murmurs to run through the assembled researchers. ¡°In other words, overtime requests will be welcomed for the next month or so. Any questions? No? Alright, let¡¯s get back to work! Ah, Pryce, I¡¯d like to have a word in my office, if you would.¡±
¡°Yes?¡± Pryce asked, closing the door behind him.
¡°Don¡¯t worry, you¡¯re not in trouble,¡± Ainsley said, smiling. ¡°I just wanted to tell you that you¡¯ve been an invaluable asset to our team, and your work ethic is beyond reproach.¡±
¡°Thank you, sir.¡±
¡°I¡¯m just glad that we have the funding to finally speed things along,¡± Ainsley said, leaning back in his chair. ¡°Now we¡¯ll finally see some real work done.¡±
¡°Yes, about that¡¡± Pryce said, adjusting his glasses awkwardly. ¡°I know I¡¯ve pushed for overtime in the past, but there have been some¡familial developments since then. I¡¯m afraid I won¡¯t be able to take much overtime, if any at all.¡±
Ainsley blinked. ¡°I see. Well, family does come first, but no one understands Penicillin as well as you do, Pryce, and certainly not the synthesis of the thing.¡±
¡°I¡am aware,¡± Pryce said slowly. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯ll be working harder than ever. I just need time outside of the standard work hours for personal matters.¡±
¡°Of course,¡± Ainsley said, crossing his arms. ¡°I can¡¯t force you to do anything, but do remember what¡¯s at stake.¡±
¡°Trust me,¡± Pryce sighed. ¡°I know.¡±
¡°Just so long as you don¡¯t forget it,¡± Ainsley said, adjusting his glasses as he returned to the documents on his desk. ¡°And let me know if you change your mind.¡±
Pryce stopped by the library on the way home from work, picking up a new batch of books for Arthur to read.
¡°I¡¯m home!¡± Alex said as he stepped through the front door, and greeted Arthur with an enthusiastic hug. ¡°Hey Art, ready for the trip tomorrow?¡±
¡°Uh-huh!¡± Arthur said, nodding excitedly.
¡°Good. How was school?¡± Alex asked.
¡°Boooring,¡± Arthur grumbled, making Alex chuckle. ¡°The teachers keep talking about things dad already taught me.¡± The child looked down, momentarily saddened by the mention of his father.
¡°Well, that just means he did a good job teaching, and you did a good job learning,¡± Alex said, trying to cheer him up.
¡°Mmm,¡± Arthur said, noncommittally, but smiled as Alex patted him on the head. The boy was remarkably intelligent for a child of his age, but Alex still wasn¡¯t quite sure if his godson had properly processed the death of his parents or not.
¡°...since you finished those books so quickly, I thought I¡¯d get you some more,¡± Alex grinned, lifting up the bag of books he¡¯d borrowed from the local library.
¡°More books!¡± Arthur cheered. ¡°Did you find any books about the new continent?¡±
¡°...Yes, but they¡¯re not very detailed,¡± Alex warned, ¡°no one¡¯s been there yet, so no one really knows anything about them.¡±
¡°That¡¯s okay, I want to read about them anyway!¡± Arthur said excitedly. ¡°Can we start now?¡±
¡°No, we have to help grandma prepare dinner first, remember?¡± Alex asked, causing Arthur to groan. ¡°...but I did get you something.¡±
Alex unrolled a scroll of paper from his bag, and revealed a large poster-sized version of the famous image obtained by Longshot 8.
¡°Wow! Awesome!¡± Arthur exclaimed, and grabbed the offered poster to pore over the not-quite-existent details. ¡°Can I keep it?¡±
¡°Of course,¡± Alex said, smiling. ¡°Come on, I¡¯ll help you hang it up in your room, then we can go make supper.¡±
Arthur had dashed away before he had even finished his sentence, though he soon bolted back to coax his uncle to hurry up. Alex chuckled as he picked up his bags, his heart warmed by the boy¡¯s boundless enthusiasm.
It still pained him terribly to walk through these hallways without James or Elizabeth around. He wasn¡¯t sure if that feeling would ever fade, or if he even wanted it to ¨C after all, the pain served as a reminder of his promise, and he was resolved to do everything in his power to keep it.
One day later, 955/02/21
¡°Wow!¡± Arthur exclaimed as he ran towards the ocean, stopping only when Alex called for him to stop. The eight-year-old boy stood upon the shoreline, amazed by the endless expanse of water.
Until the waves lapped at his feet, causing him to run away in panic.
¡°Remember what I told you?¡± Alex asked. ¡°Don¡¯t go too far, alright? The ocean is dangerous, and you don¡¯t know how to swim yet.¡±
¡°Okay,¡± Arthur said, warily eyeing the ocean.
¡°Here, I brought a compass and a map,¡± Alex said, catching the young boy¡¯s attention. ¡°That way¡¯s north,¡± he said, pointing along the shoreline. ¡°And that way¡¯s west, which means if you could go in a straight line-¡±
¡°You¡¯d hit land,¡± Arthur finished, and peered at the horizon, as if he hoped to see the mysterious continent.
¡°You won¡¯t be able to see it,¡± Pryce chuckled, and hoisted Arthur onto his shoulders to give him a better view. ¡°The Earth is round, which means you can only see about 6 kilometers, but the closest continent is about eight thousand kilometers away.¡±
¡°That¡¯s so far,¡± Arthur grumbled. ¡°...uncle Alex? Do you want to go explore the other islands?¡±
¡°I am curious to see what¡¯s there,¡± Alex admitted, ¡°but there are a lot of people who are smarter and braver than me who¡¯d want to go first. I definitely wouldn¡¯t be on the first ship, and besides, I don¡¯t want to leave you behind.¡±
¡°Then we could go together!¡± Arthur insisted, his eyes shining brightly at the idea.
Pryce smiled sadly at his enthusiasm, which so closely resembled his father¡¯s. ¡°...you said something like that when you were little, though you probably don¡¯t remember it.¡±
¡°I did?¡± Arthur asked, tilting his head in confusion.
¡°Yes, you did. Your father said you¡¯d have to wait until you grew up.¡±
¡°But that¡¯ll take forever!¡± Arthur whined.
¡°It¡¯s only another eight years,¡± Alex pointed out. ¡°How about this, you study extra hard, and the sooner you graduate the sooner we¡¯ll go exploring together, alright?¡±
¡°Hmm,¡± Arthur hummed, considering this offer. ¡°Do you promise?¡± he asked.
¡°I promise.¡±
¡°...shake on it?¡±
¡°Well¡if you insist,¡± Alex dramatically sighed, and formally shook Arthur¡¯s offered hand ¨C at least, as formally as he could while crouching down to the height of the eight-year-old boy.
¡°Done!¡± Arthur cheered. ¡°Now help me build a sandcastle!¡±
¡°Of course,¡± Alex chuckled. ¡°I¡¯ll get the shovels.¡±
2 years later, 957/01/23
Deadly new disease found in the inhabitants of Auster!
(957/01/23)
Hundreds of Concordia hospital¡¯s patients are currently infected with an unknown illness, with cases spreading through the city like wildfire. Experts have tentatively identified an anonymous patient admitted to the hospital on 957/01/09 as patient zero, but the true origin of this sickness remains unknown.
The hospital has refused to identify patient zero, but officials have stated that this individual is still alive, despite the fact that several other afflicted patients are now confirmed to be deceased. Experts state that more data is required to estimate the danger that this disease poses to the public, but it should be noted that even now, two weeks after the first infections, that there are yet to be any patients who have recovered from this illness.
Cases of the disease appear to be isolated to Auster, with some experts suggesting the travel between cities be restricted until the disease has been properly identified. Mayor Freeman has expressed that he is considering such a decision, a statement which has drawn much criticism from the local populace.
Alex set the newspaper down upon the table, his face set in a grim expression. He had heard news of the disease a week ago from his old colleagues, but at the time it only seemed to be an oddly serious cold. Now, with none of the patients making a recovery, people were starting to panic.
¡°Gerson, Mrs. Wright, I think you should take Arthur to Arkouda.¡±
¡°What? But why?¡± Mrs. Wright asked. ¡°It¡¯s so far away, and Arthur is just getting settled at school.¡±
Alex laid the newspaper on the table.
¡°It sounds like it¡¯s just like a cold to me,¡± Gerson huffed skeptically. ¡°What¡¯s the big deal?¡±
¡°I have a bad feeling about this,¡± Alex said seriously. ¡°The normal time it takes for someone to recover from the common cold is seven to ten days. It has been two weeks since the first infections, and not a single person has recovered.¡±
¡°Seems a bit early to panic, isn¡¯t it?¡± Mr. Wright asked.
¡°Think of it as a vacation,¡± Alex said. ¡°You always wanted to take Arthur to see Arkouda, right? Stay there for a month, and if the disease turns out to be nothing then great, but if not then you¡¯ll be much safer in a small city like Arkouda.¡±
¡°You¡¯ll be much safer?¡± Gerson asked, ¡°if you¡¯re so worried then why aren¡¯t you coming with us?¡±
¡°Auster has the best labs in the world. I can¡¯t leave before we finish our research, not when we might be seeing the start of a new plague. Look here,¡± Alex said, underlining a line in the newspaper. ¡°They¡¯re already considering travel restrictions. You¡¯ll need to leave while you can, before they start shutting down the city.¡±
¡°Alex, I really don¡¯t think this is necessary.¡±
¡°I¡¯m a doctor, and I think it is,¡± Alex said, refusing to concede. Gerson opened his mouth to respond, but just then the front door opened ¨C Mrs. Wright had brought Arthur back home from school.
¡°Well¡I have been meaning to visit some of my nieces and nephews,¡± Mrs. Wright said thoughtfully when Alex explained the situation to them. ¡°Arthur is ahead of his classes, so I suppose a little vacation couldn¡¯t hurt.¡±
¡°You¡¯re not coming with us?¡± Arthur asked with a quavering voice. ¡°You¡¯re not going to die, are you?¡±
Alex froze. He crouched down to speak with Arthur, but the young boy¡¯s terrified eyes broke his heart so badly that he nearly changed his mind. ¡°I¡have to stay to do important things,¡± he said after a moment¡¯s hesitation. ¡°What I¡¯m doing at work will save many people if things get bad.¡±
¡°So it is dangerous,¡± Arthur accused, his eyes brimming with tears.
Alex paused for a moment, then sighed. ¡°Sometimes you need to do dangerous things to help people. Hey, don¡¯t cry. I¡¯ll be very careful, and it probably won¡¯t even get that bad anyway.¡±
¡°Stop lying to me!¡± Arthur suddenly shouted, and ran off to his room.
¡°What¡¯s gotten into that boy?¡± Gerson huffed. ¡°I¡¯ll have a word with him.¡±
¡°No, leave him be,¡± Alex said, his expression downcast. ¡°I didn¡¯t consider this at all, but I should have thought of things from his perspective. He must be afraid I¡¯ll leave him, like his parents did.¡±
¡°Don¡¯t worry. He¡¯ll come around,¡± Mrs. Wright said, and laid a comforting hand on his shoulder.
¡°Bye Arthur,¡± Alex said, hugging his godson before he left for Arkouda. ¡°I¡¯ll call every few days, but be a good boy for grandma and grandpa, okay?¡±
¡°Okay,¡± Arthur said, not looking him in the eyes.
¡°It¡¯ll be over before you know it,¡± Alex said. He knew it was a stupid thing to say; it would only cause the boy to resent him if he was wrong¡and yet in that moment the desire to reassure the poor boy overrode his good sense.
¡°Mmm,¡± Arthur said, clearly unconvinced.
¡°Here, I got you something,¡± Alex said, smiling.
That got Arthur¡¯s attention, and the boy¡¯s eyes lit up when he saw the gift.
¡°You got me a model rocket?¡± He asked in disbelief.
¡°It¡¯s the one they used to get the satellite imagery,¡± Alex said, glad to see him happy. ¡°That should keep you busy while you¡¯re gone.¡±
¡°Thank you uncle Alex!¡± Arthur beamed before hugging him tightly.
¡°You¡¯re welcome,¡± Alex smiled, glad that the boy was finally acting like his normal self.
They left a few minutes later, and Alex waved until the curve of the tracks carried the train out of sight. Even then he stayed, and only turned to leave when the last compartment finally slipped out of view.
It was only a short walk from the train station to the nearest bus stop, and from there Pryce headed straight to work.
1 month later, 957/02/23
Deadly disease officially named the Pneumonic Plague!
(957/02/23)
Hospitals across the city are being overwhelmed by thousands of sick, with experts saying not to panic despite the death toll rapidly rising through the hundreds.
The new disease has been identified to cause damage to the lungs and respiratory system. As of yet, less than 0.1% of patients have recovered enough to be discharged from the hospital.
Examples of civil unrest are now widespread across the city, with the city¡¯s already-strained infrastructure further stressed by citizens stockpiling in anticipation of future disaster. Mayor Freeman has issued a city-wide emergency lockdown, a decision that has been met with widespread criticism for being excessively draconian.
¡°No, I¡¯m sorry, things are only getting worse,¡± Alex said through the telephone. ¡°You¡¯ll need to stay in Arkouda with grandma and grandpa until things get better.¡±
¡°I finished the model,¡± Arthur said quietly. ¡°Do you know when things will get better?¡±
¡°No,¡± Alex said grimly. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I wish I could tell you, but no one knows how things are going to unfold.¡±
¡°Okay,¡± Arthur mumbled sadly. ¡°I miss you.¡±
¡°I miss you too,¡± Alex sighed. ¡°I need to go now, please, tell grandma and grandpa to be careful, alright?¡±
¡°Okay, bye uncle Alex.¡±
Pryce hung up the telephone and returned to the break room. ¡°Anything new?¡± He asked Caldwell, who was currently reading the newspaper.
¡°The public¡¯s acting like a chicken with its head cut off,¡± Caldwell sighed, ¡°so no, nothing new.¡±
¡°Well, at least we¡¯re not in need of funding anymore,¡± Pryce sighed.
¡°It shouldn¡¯t have taken a damn plague to get us the funding we need,¡± Caldwell mumbled, which Pryce could not disagree with. This crisis would have ended without note if they had just been given the funding they were due.
¡°So, how are the latest round of mice doing?¡± Pryce asked tiredly. He¡¯d been steadily refining their methods for the isolation of penicillin, but the yields they produced were still pitifully low. In fact, they hadn¡¯t even had enough for human trials yet.
¡°Well enough,¡± Caldwell sighed. ¡°Six of the eight seem more or less recovered, the seventh is a bit lethargic, but the eighth has died. None of the data was significantly different from the previous rounds.¡±
They both knew that the limiting factor was the amount of penicillin they could produce. Caldwell knew Pryce and his team were working day and night trying to isolate a sizable amount of the drug, and he was kind enough not to mention their struggling productivity, even if the matter weighed heavily on all of their minds.
3 months later, 957/06/02
Pneumonic Plague claims over one hundred thousand lives!
[957/06/02]
Cases have begun to spread to neighboring cities, including the capital cities Pyrin and Septen.
4 months later, 957/10/14
¡°So, how are things? Is everyone alright?¡± Alex asked Gerson.
¡°...Well enough,¡± was Gerson¡¯s tired response.
¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± Alex asked, immediately suspicious.
¡°Things are starting to get bad here,¡± Gerson admitted. ¡°Lotta people I know are coming down with the plague. None have died yet, thank god, but it¡¯s not looking good.¡±
¡°But you¡¯re safe?¡±
¡°Yeah, the missus and I are fine, and so is Arthur, even if he¡¯s a little annoyed about being cooped up all day, and he still misses his friends.¡±
¡°I see,¡± Pryce sighed. ¡°Well, I have to get back to work. I¡¯ll call again next week, alright?¡±
¡°Alright. Stay safe, my boy.¡±
¡°I will,¡± Pryce reassured, ¡°just make sure you do as well.¡± He hung up the phone shortly after saying his farewells, then walked back into the lab to see Caldwell still working. ¡°Staying late again?¡± he asked.
¡°Yeah,¡± Caldwell sighed, then paused. ¡°...I just got news that my dad has the plague¡±
¡°Damnit,¡± Pryce swore. They were already working around the clock, and they¡¯d made significant progress in the past few months, drastically increasing the yield while reducing the incubation time required by a third, but they just weren¡¯t getting any of the breakthroughs they needed to make penicillin a viable cure. Caldwell wasn¡¯t the first researcher in their team to report an infected relative, and at this rate he¡¯d be far from the last.
¡°His condition is already pretty bad,¡± Caldwell sighed. ¡°I don¡¯t think he¡¯s going to make it. Not unless we make a monumental breakthrough,¡± he said, with the same tone that one might use when wishing for pigs to fly.
Pryce opened his mouth, but couldn¡¯t think of anything to say. Their continued failure had cost and would continue to cost innumerable lives, and that fact weighed heavily on them all. Tensions had risen with each passing day, with arguments being a daily occurance.
Everyone at the lab knew how ridiculously temperamental the fungi was, and getting it to grow properly at all often felt like an exercise in futility. Even in optimal conditions the yield would be too low to be of much use. They¡¯d recently gathered enough to attempt a singular human trial on a man named Alan Woods. That trial saw miraculous improvement of the patient¡at least, until they ran out of medicine.
The research conducted in the months prior had taught them that the drug was only useful when injected, but it also taught them that it remained intact in the urine. Unfortunately, even reclaiming penicillin from the urine of the patient wasn¡¯t enough, and Mr. Woods had tragically died after a brief period of recovery.
¡°Nothing we can do but keep working, I suppose,¡± Pryce sighed.
¡°Yeah,¡± Caldwell shrugged listlessly. ¡°Not like we can just give up now, can we?¡±
1 month later, 957/11/21
Pneumonic plague claims one million lives! Could hope be on the horizon?
[957/11/21]
Researchers at the University of Auster have reportedly begun human trials of a new drug classed as an antibiotic!
The drug was discovered and subsequently named penicillin in 948, but isolation remained elusive for several years. At present, interviewed doctors remain tight-lipped about the details, but they have stated that several patients have been cured by the medicine.
Pryce tiredly rubbed his eyes as he stepped off the bus. He¡¯d long since started sleeping in his office to save time he¡¯d otherwise spend commuting to work, but he still had to go home to shower and occasionally eat. Now he was headed back to work, and-
A clang from the alleyway drew his attention, and he turned his head to see a cat running off with some scavenged food held in its mouth. Pryce was just about to continue walking when he saw something quite unremarkable ¨C a moldy honeymelon sat on top of an overflowing trash can.
He paused. Ainsley had been trying to acquire more strains of penicillium for months, but the new strains were only somewhat more productive. This moldy fruit had the same pale greenish tint that penicillium molds tended to have, though the odds of it being at all useful were slim to none.
Still, it couldn¡¯t hurt to bring it back to the lab. Pryce picked up the half-rotten melon, and tried not to gag at the smell and texture as he carried it back to the lab.
10 days later, 957/11/31
¡°Where did you find this, again?¡± Ainsley asked.
¡°In an overflowing trash can, beside Riva¡¯s,¡± Pryce answered absently. ¡°It¡¯s a restaurant a few blocks away from here, though I¡¯ve never been,¡± he clarified, interpreting Ainsley¡¯s silence as confusion.
¡°I know, I¡¯ve been there before,¡± Ainsley said, and fell silent to watch as Pryce mixed the Penicillin-rich solution with a watery alkali buffer. The Penicillin-rich solution was acidic, and by adding an alkali buffer it allowed the penicillin to sink into the neutral or alkaline layer, where it could then be drawn out by a spout.
Normally the watery layer was perfectly clear, but this time the layer was milky. Pryce wasn¡¯t sure if that was a good sign or not, but at least it was different.
¡°Moment of truth,¡± Pryce said, and connected a flask of the watery-penicillin-rich-alkali solution and connected it to a vacuum pump. Pryce and his colleagues watched the solution bubble away in the vacuum. Over the course of several minutes more and more water left the flask, gradually turning the liquid into a brown, gunky residue.
¡°By the Twins,¡± Caldwell breathed. ¡°Is that¡Is this it?¡±
¡°I¡¯ll contact the hospital,¡± Ainsley said, stepping away in haste, ¡°Pryce, start growing more, now. Caldwell, get started on testing the mice.¡±
¡°Understood,¡± Pryce and Caldwell said in unison, and quickly began issuing orders to the rest of the researchers.
3 days later, 957/11/34
The penicillin isolated from this new strain of fungi ¨C which had been tentatively identified as chrysogenum ¨C proved to be just as effective at curing the mice as the original strain, even slightly outperforming the old strain in animal trials.
Under normal circumstances the penicillin produced by chrysogenum would have undergone much more strenuous testing before being used on humans, but the severity of the plague forced the hospitals to defy procedure by starting human trials before the mice had even made a full recovery.
Now, they all anxiously waited for the news, even as they worked to grow as much as they possibly could. There was only so much they could do, however, as the mold would take at least ten days to reach optimal yield ¨C assuming it was no different from the previous strains in that regard.
Their work was interrupted when Ainsley stepped out of his office, the simple act earning the undivided attention of everyone in the room. ¡°Four of the ten treated patients are set to be discharged tomorrow,¡± he announced without preamble, causing an explosion of celebration to ring throughout the lab-turned-mold factory. ¡°The other five have greatly improved, though the last died an hour ago,¡± he continued, cutting the celebration short. ¡°The doctors believe he was too far gone for the treatment to be effective.¡±
¡°You mean¡¡± Caldwell said, trailing off uncertainly.
¡°We have a viable cure,¡± Ainsley nodded.
¡°Well, what are we standing around for?¡± Caldwell cheered. ¡°Let¡¯s get back to work! We have a cure to make!¡±
Pryce smiled as they all returned to work with renewed vigor, finally they could-
¡°Pryce, a word,¡± Ainsley said, and led him to his office.
¡°What is it?¡± Pryce asked impatiently as he closed the door behind him. Ainsley knew as well as he did that time was of the essence, what could possibly be so urgent that they¡¯d need to have a private conversation?
¡°...you¡¯re quite close with the Wright family, correct?¡± Ainsley asked, hesitantly, but did not wait for an answer. ¡°Well, there¡¯s no easy way to say this, but Margrit, Gerson, and Arthur Wright were admitted to Arkouda hospital two days ago; they have the plague.¡±
Pryce froze, his heart skipped a beat. ¡°...what? No no no, that can¡¯t be right, I spoke with them less than a week ago, and the hospital would have notified me-¡±
¡°They did try to contact you, but you were busy, so I took the message,¡± Ainsley said, cutting him off, ¡°I got the call from Arkouda hospital just an hour ago, right before I received word from Concordia about penicillin.¡± Ainsley leaned forward, with Pryce clinging onto his every word. ¡°The child isn¡¯t too badly sick yet, but the grandparents aren¡¯t doing well. I¡¯m sorry, but that¡¯s all that I know.¡±
Pryce was only faintly aware of what Ainsley was saying ¨C his mind was afire with questions ¨C how could they have gotten sick so quickly? What was their condition? How long would it take to deliver penicillin to their Arkouda hospital? Could they receive penicillin? A new batch of the drug would take another seven days to make at minimum, was there even enough time? And more importantly-
¡°Can we send any penicillin to Arkouda?¡± Pryce asked, his face set in stone.
¡°Officially, no,¡± Ainsley sighed. ¡°As I¡¯m sure you know, the government is responsible for much of our current funding, and they expect that everything we produce gets sent to Concordia, for obvious reasons.¡±
¡°Of course,¡± Pryce groaned, and tightly gripped the backrest of a chair. Concordia was close, and second only in size to Grace hospital in Pyrin. It was a very sensible decision, but now Pryce was recalling his decision to send the Wright family to Arkouda with horror. ¡°...what did you mean by ¡®officially¡¯?¡± he asked, faintly.
¡°...this doesn¡¯t leave the office, alright?¡± Ainsley said. When Pryce nodded, he continued. ¡°Unofficially, I can pull some favors to send Arkouda some of the next batch that we make. It¡¯ll be just enough to include the Wright family in the first human trials.¡±
¡°...but?¡± Pryce asked, warily.
¡°No buts,¡± Ainsley sighed, shaking his head. ¡°Consider this an apology. If I¡¯d listened to you all those years ago then we wouldn¡¯t be in this mess. This is the least I could do.¡± He paused, then added, ¡°I did the same for Caldwell, though that was easier considering his father¡¯s at Concordia.¡±
Pryce paused ¨C Caldwell¡¯s sudden exuberance suddenly made much more sense. ¡°I¡don¡¯t know what to say,¡± he finally said.
¡°You don¡¯t need to say anything,¡± Ainsley said, waving him off. ¡°Just get back to work.¡±
Pryce paused, then nodded resolutely. There was still a long time before the Wright family would get the treatment they needed, but the offer had eased much of the dread in his heart, replacing it with cold determination.
He opened the door to leave the office, but then he paused. ¡°I¡¯m sorry to ask more, but¡there¡¯s no way for me to get to Arkouda, is there?¡±
¡°There is not,¡± Ainsley said firmly. ¡°You know there¡¯s a complete lockdown in place. Only essential personnel are allowed passage between cities.¡±
¡°Of course,¡± Pryce nodded, not expecting otherwise. It was a foolish idea anyway ¨C there was nothing he could do at Arkouda other than comfort his dying family, and he knew the only way to help them was to stay here and do his job, unless¡ ¡°Could you relay a message for me?¡±
¡°That won¡¯t be easy,¡± Ainsley sighed. ¡°The hospital is too overworked to be relaying messages between the quarantined and their family, but I¡¯ll see that it¡¯s done.¡±
¡°Thank you,¡± Pryce said gratefully, and drew a pen and notepad out of his pockets to write a message. He had much to say to the three of them, but when the moment came to put pen to paper his mind suddenly became blank. It took him a full minute to manage an awkward note which he gave to Ainsley.
To Gerson and Margrit:
I¡¯m working as fast as I can.
Hold on, just a little longer.
To Arthur Wright:
I¡¯m sorry I¡¯ve been away for so long, but I¡¯m almost finished with my work.
I promise I¡¯ll be there when you get better, so please, hold on just a little longer.
Despite his exhaustion Pryce found sleep to be a virtual impossibility. He¡¯d been well aware of the worsening situation across the land, and particularly in Arkouda, and in some corner of his mind he¡¯d been half-expecting the news, even if he hoped against that outcome with all his heart.
Still, even those expectations did little to prepare him for this worst-case outcome; his family in deteriorating condition, several thousand kilometers away, and at least a week away from receiving treatment. Pryce could not help but feel deeply responsible for sending them away to Arkouda, even as he logically knew that they likely would have fallen ill far sooner if they had stayed in Auster.
But he knew fretting over things did nothing to help, so Pryce threw himself into his work and fell into a hellish cycle.
Before dawn broke, he¡¯d drag himself out of his office to check on the progression of the mold-broth.
In the morning he¡¯d refresh himself on the results of yesterday¡¯s experiments before ordering new ones for the other researchers to do.
By lunch he¡¯d occupy himself with filling out the paperwork required to purchase more equipment, all the while dreading Ainsley¡¯s often frustratingly ambiguous update on the Wright family.
In the afternoon he¡¯d check on the experiments, and make corrections if needed.
In the evening he¡¯d analyze the results, then collaborate with Caldwell on iteratively adjusting the procedure for future batches of penicillin.
At night he¡¯d calculate various projections regarding the production rate of penicillin before inevitably falling into a fitful sleep on his office room cot.
The days inched past, slow and interminable even as they blurred together, with the creeping dread of his family¡¯s worsening condition being the only sign of change from day to day.
All the way until they sent the first batch of medicine to Arkouda.
¡°Have you heard any updates from the hospital?¡± Pryce asked Ainsley. It had been a question he¡¯d asked every day since Ainsley had told him about his family¡¯s hospitalization, and every day he feared what the response would be.
Ainsley sighed, and Pryce felt his heart catch in his throat. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, but Margrit Wright passed away earlier this morning, and the other two have entered critical condition. Arkouda will receive the medicine by the end of the day, but you should be prepared for the worst.¡±
¡°...I see,¡± Pryce said, his voice tight with emotion. Mrs. Wright had been like a mother to him after his own had died, and Pryce struggled to believe that she was dead, and that he could have-
¡°Are you sure there¡¯s no way for me to get to Arkouda?¡± Pryce pressed.
¡°A hundred percent,¡± Ainsley said, shaking his head. ¡°There¡¯s a complete lockdown between cities. No transportation except for authorized personnel, which you are not.¡±
¡°...I understand,¡± Pryce said tiredly, and left to prepare the next batch of penicillin.
One week later, 957/12/05
Pryce was in the process of ordering more phosphoric acid when someone knocked on the door.
¡°Come in,¡± Pryce said. He looked up from his papers to see Ainsley standing in the doorway. ¡°H-how did the trials go?¡± he asked, his voice cracking from his dry throat.
Ainsley said nothing, and instead pulled up a seat to look Pryce in the eyes. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. The antibiotics appeared to have an effect on Mr. Wright, but his body was in no condition to fight off the infection. He passed away last night.¡±
Pryce stared blankly at Ainsley, then gradually lowered his head to stare blankly at his paperwork. ¡°I see,¡± he said hoarsely. ¡°But Arthur¡?¡±
¡°He didn¡¯t make it either,¡± Ainsley said, sighing heavily. ¡°The boy appeared to have an¡anaphylactic reaction to the medicine, despite the fact that the nurses gave him an appropriately low dose. It likely would not have been fatal, but his body was already weakened by the plague, and¡¡± Ainsley paused, evidently unsure of what to say.
Pryce wasn¡¯t sure what to think, or even what to feel.
Arthur had¡died?
Arthur had died. And so had Gerson. And so had Margrit.
They had all died. Alone, in a hospital, and in pain.
And yet¡nothing had changed.
He still had a job to do. There was still medicine to make, lives to save. He could not stop now, not for anything.
¡°I understand,¡± Pryce said, feeling as if his voice were not his own. He felt oddly hollow, now, and very tired. ¡°Did you read the letter I left in your office this morning?¡±
¡°The one about purchasing glucose from Greenpath instead of Frost Industries?¡± Ainsley asked, surprised. ¡°What about it?¡±
¡°Will you give your approval?¡±
¡°I¡suppose, but-¡±
¡°Good, I need to know if we¡¯re going to have enough glucose to handle the increased production,¡± Pryce said, returning to his paperwork. ¡°We have enough to last some time, but we¡¯ll need to switch to another supplier before it becomes a problem.¡±
¡°...of course,¡± Ainsley said, and stood up to leave. ¡°I¡¯ll talk to you later, then.¡±
¡°Of course,¡± Pryce said, and moved on to his next task.
Three months later, 958/02/01
Prime Minister Bolton officially ends nationwide lockdown!
(958/02/01)
The discovery and subsequent isolation of Penicillin have finally put an end to the deadly plague, which to date has claimed the lives of over 1.2 million citizens. At present, hospitals across the land report a combined daily average of less than ten deaths per day, compared to the peak of thousands reported three months ago.
However, the danger is not over yet; nearly all hospitals remain over-capacity despite the good news, and the miracle drug remains in relatively short supply, but experts say that the projected rates of production will completely eliminate the plague within the next one or two months.
Cheers echoed throughout the lab as Caldwell passed the newspaper around, loud enough that he was certain anyone in the building had clearly heard it.
¡°Where¡¯s Pryce?¡± he asked McDonnel ¨C one of the researchers who had transferred to the lab shortly before his own temporary departure.
¡°Doctor Pryce? Usually he¡¯s ordering people around, but some days I barely even see him,¡± McDonnel said, his brows furrowed in thought. ¡°He doesn¡¯t seem to be around, so my guess is he¡¯s still in his office.¡±
¡°Pryce! Did you hear? The lockdown¡¯s over!¡± Caldwell said, poking his head through the door. He froze as he saw the face of his old coworker, who seemed to have aged years in the months since they¡¯d last seen each other.
Dark bags hung heavily under his eyes, and his face was long and drawn. His hair, once trimmed short, had grown long and unkempt, and even from a distance Caldwell could see strands of white among his normally black hair.
¡°Caldwell, you¡¯re back,¡± Pryce said, sounding as tired as the bags under his eyes. ¡°So they ended the lockdown, did they? How unfortunate,¡± he sighed, and shifted some papers around to begin working on another stack that occupied his desk.
¡°What¡do you mean?¡± Caldwell asked, confused by his reaction. ¡°The number of sick-¡±
¡°Has not yet fallen to acceptable levels,¡± Pryce said, quietly but with authority. ¡°They should have waited another month. That¡¯s when we¡¯ll have enough to treat everyone.¡±
¡°But we¡¯ll be able to treat them anyway, even if we take the ending of the lockdown into account,¡± Caldwell said, somewhat confused and a little concerned at Pryce¡¯s odd behavior. ¡°We saved millions of lives! Aren¡¯t you a little happy about that?¡± he asked, waving his hands around emphatically.
¡°I am,¡± Pryce said, with nothing in his tone to indicate any emotion. ¡°But it¡¯s safer to be cautious ¨C I trust you¡¯ve heard that a research team in Northfield has already found a strain of Y. pestis that¡¯s slightly resistant to penicillin? The rate that it¡¯s adapting at means it¡¯s only a matter of time before it becomes fully resistant.¡±
¡°Please, disease doesn¡¯t change that quickly,¡± Caldwell snorted. ¡°I read that paper, that strain was only slightly more resistant ¨C it¡¯ll be years before it¡¯ll be a problem at the very worst.¡±
¡°That is likely, yes,¡± Pryce agreed. ¡°But are you willing to take that risk? Even if it doesn¡¯t, some people are allergic to penicillin.¡±
¡°That¡¯s less than one percent, and serious cases are even rarer. I¡¯d hardly say that¡¯s anything to worry about,¡± Caldwell scoffed, waving off his concerns.
Caldwell had noticed that Pryce seemed a little absent up until this point, but Caldwell was surprised when the gaze of his peer suddenly sharpened.
¡°...it is not an insignificant demographic,¡± Pryce said, slowly and with deliberate intent. ¡°There¡¯s still more work to be done either way, like finding a new antibiotic that will work against gram-negative bacteria. The fact that we found something effective against the gram-positive Y. pestis at all was nothing but blind luck.¡±
¡°Caldwell, there you are,¡± Ainsley said, interrupting their conversation before tensions could rise any further. ¡°Did you two hear the news from Pyrin?¡±
¡°About the lockdown, yes, Caldwell just told me.¡±
¡°No, not that,¡± Ainsley said, shaking his head. ¡°A research team in Pyrin found a new antibiotic, and it notably works on gram-negative bacteria. They¡¯re calling it Ampicillin,¡± he said, laying down what was presumably a copy of the paper on Pryce¡¯s desk.
¡°That¡¯s great news!¡± Caldwell said, ¡°see, Pryce? I told you things would be fine. It¡¯s not like we¡¯re the only biologists in the world.¡±
¡°This is¡promising,¡± Pryce admitted as he flipped through the report. ¡°But this doesn¡¯t change anything. I still have work to do.¡±
¡°I¡¯ve been meaning to talk to you about that,¡± Ainsley said as he sat down on a dusty chair. ¡°Things are really moving along now, enough that I feel comfortable telling you to take a vacation.¡±
Pryce blinked. ¡°You¡want me to¡?¡±
¡°I know it¡¯s rich coming from me, but you¡¯ve been working far too much. It¡¯s not healthy,¡± Ainsley sighed. ¡°I would have liked to have done this earlier, but back then I¡we needed your expertise. You know I¡¯ve reallocated your management tasks for others to handle, so your absence won¡¯t impact the production plants.¡±
Pryce only stared blankly at Ainsley, as if he had not considered this outcome at all. ¡°I don¡¯t want to take a break,¡± he finally said.
¡°I¡¯m not giving you a choice,¡± Ainsley said. ¡°Go home. Take a break, and¡take care of any personal business. I¡¯m not going to let you work yourself to death.¡±
For several minutes Pryce gave no response, but Ainsley remained firmly seated in his chair until Pryce gave the slightest of nods.
¡°Good, take a month off, then let me know when you¡¯re coming back,¡± Ainsley said, and dusted himself off as he stood up from the chair. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, we¡¯ll take it from here. Caldwell, a word in my office, if you would?¡±
¡°So in short, plant P3¡¯s production is within projected parameters, and they¡¯re in the process of upscaling, of course,¡± Caldwell said, summarizing his report.
¡°Good, good,¡± Ainsley said, though the senior researcher seemed oddly distracted. ¡°There¡¯s something I need to tell you.¡±
He told him about Pryce¡¯s extended family.
¡°Oh¡oh my god,¡± Caldwell said, placing his head in his hands. ¡°Why didn¡¯t you tell me earlier?¡± he demanded.
¡°I was going to tell you the moment you returned,¡± Ainsley sighed. ¡°I didn¡¯t think you¡¯d go straight to his office.¡±
¡°I need to apologize,¡± Caldwell said, and turned to leave before Ainsley gave his response. He swiftly marched to Pryce¡¯s office, but was surprised to see that it was empty.
¡°Doctor Pryce? He left a few minutes ago,¡± the secretary said when Caldwell asked her if he¡¯d seen Pryce leave, and he immediately ran outside to scan up and down the street.
But his colleague was nowhere to be seen.
The next day, 958/02/02
Rows upon rows of freshly dug graves filled Auster Memorial Park, with the vast majority of them being small, unimpressive things, which made sense considering that they were surely all empty.
The bodies of the dead had all been cremated, after all.
Pryce walked past them all, and the great coldness in his gut growing with each step he took.
It was¡relatively easy to ignore the numbers while he worked in a lab. He¡¯d barely stepped outside in the past few months, unlike many others who were forced to contend with the reality of the situation.
Hills upon hills of headstones stretched as far as the eye could see, and these were only a fraction of those who had died.
He had been familiar with this cemetery, and had walked this path many times before, and yet he almost felt like a stranger in his own shoes as he stopped in front of two familiar headstones, placed adjacent to the resting place of his own parents.
James Wright
921 AE ¨C 953 AE
Here lies a loving husband and a brilliant engineer, who designed solutions for the benefit of all mankind.
Elizabeth Wright
919 AE - 953 AE
Here lies a loving wife and a renowned physicist, whose works on quantum electrodynamics furthered our understanding on the nature of light.
He stared at these headstones for some time, not quite reading their text. Eventually he forced himself to look at the three new additions.
Gerson Wright
901 AE ¨C 957 AE
Margrit Wright
902 AE ¨C 957 AE
Arthur Wright
948 AE ¨C 957 AE
There were no descriptions on these headstones. A glance around told him that this was true for a significant portion of the newer headstones.
It was possible the morticians were overwhelmed with the sheer volume of corpses, but it was also possible that the deceased simply had no family left to leave an inscription for. In his case, the cemetery had indeed sent him a letter; he¡¯d read it last night, when he¡¯d returned home for the first time in three months.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, Pryce faintly registered the sound of approaching footsteps. He ignored it.
¡°Pryce,¡± said Caldwell¡¯s voice, surprising Pryce.
¡°...What do you want?¡± Pryce asked, without really wanting to hear an answer.
¡°I just wanted to say I¡¯m so sorry,¡± Caldwell said, awkwardly blurting an apology as he wrung his hands. ¡°I didn¡¯t know-¡±
¡°It¡¯s fine. I never told you,¡± Pryce said, with that same stoic tone as before, with only a slight hint of resignation.
He didn¡¯t bother turning to face Caldwell, half-expecting the man to leave.
He¡¯d expected Caldwell to say more, but the man only stood in silence.
¡°It¡¯s not your fault,¡± Caldwell abruptly said. ¡°We all did what we could, and I know you worked harder than anyone else.¡±
¡°...It wasn¡¯t enough,¡± Pryce said hoarsely.
¡±You can¡¯t blame yourself for that. No one could have known there¡¯d be a plague-¡±
¡°I did!¡± Pryce snapped, whirling around to face his colleague. ¡°I researched and wrote an entire fucking essay!¡± His voice cracked as he ranted, and he opened his mouth to continue-
But nothing came out.
He glanced back at the graves and collapsed before Arthur¡¯s headstone.
¡°I¡I knew better than anyone what was at stake¡¡± he rasped, the heart-rending pain at least becoming too much to bear. Tears began to flow, but there was nothing he could do to stop it.
He could not help but recall the year he spent taking care of his father, all the days he spent in leisure with the Wright family, and all the times he left work early to look after Arthur.
Time he could have spent ensuring the plague would never have been a threat.
¡°...so why,¡± he sobbed, uncaring of the tears that ran down his face, ¡°why didn¡¯t I try harder¡?¡±
Pryce did not notice when Caldwell had crouched down to comfort him, not until a gentle hand rested upon his shoulder.
The gesture barely registered to him at all.
There was nothing left to distract him now; the painful reality was far too much to bear, and Alexander Pryce fell to pieces before the graves of everyone who he had ever loved.
1 week later, 958/02/09
The door creaked open as Pryce stepped into the Wright family¡¯s house in Arkouda. The house was completely devoid of life, even as he turned on the lights.
His family had been friends with the Wright family long before his own birth, with both families having been decimated in the Unification War.
Gerson and Margrit had apparently loved him more than their own distant relatives, as their will had given him everything that they had not dedicated to Arthur.
Now, it was all his.
He didn¡¯t want anything to do with this place, despite ¨C or perhaps, because of his childhood memories, but someone had to sort through their belongings.
First he¡¯d have to decide on what to keep, and then he¡¯d sell the rest.
He wasn¡¯t sure if he could bring himself to dispose of anything, not when everything came with a painful memory, but he decided to start with the hardest part first ¨C Arthur¡¯s room.
The house had grown stale and musky in the last few months, and Pryce coughed as he opened the door to James¡¯ old room, which Gerson had mentioned was now Arthur¡¯s.
The first thing Pryce noticed was the model rocket he¡¯d given Arthur, which sat in the corner, having long since been fully assembled. A thin layer of dust had settled upon it, just as it had everything else in the room.
The second thing he noticed were the bookshelves full of books from Arthur¡¯s old room, along with many new ones Pryce did not recognize.
He closed his eyes, and waited for the tears to recede.
When he opened them again he noticed a newspaper resting on the desk, dated shortly after the start of the pandemic. Pryce flipped through it, and stopped at one section outlined with a marker.
GLEXA opens recruitment for the Horizon Project!
Be among the first brave explorers to step foot on alien land!
Applicants must possess an education in one or more relevant fields: biology, engineering, geology, medicine, naval navigation, or other skills.
Applicants must also be in able condition and in good health.
Interested applicants can contact the GLEXA recruitment office at (111) 453-921.
Pryce looked up from the paper, and saw a bulletin board covered with magazine and newspaper cutouts, and a closer inspection showed that the oldest centered around the Longshot program and its subsequent discoveries, with newer ones relating to exploratory projects that the government had planned.
He looked down at the desk, and saw a few textbooks strewn about the table, along with a notebook.
Against his better judgment, he opened it.
The inside was full of notes, in Arthur¡¯s rather neat handwriting. The subjects varied from many fields of science, with his own more personal notes scrawled in the margins.
Pryce wedged the newspaper between the pages and closed the book before he could lose his composure. He silently promised himself that he¡¯d read it later, but right now he had a task to complete.
With a heavy heart, he set about sorting through the rest of the family¡¯s belongings.
Two weeks later, 958/02/23
¡°You want me to be a professor?¡± Pryce asked, baffled.
¡°Yes,¡± said Stanton, ¡°your cure-¡±
¡°It¡¯s not mine,¡± Pryce said flatly. ¡°Penicillin was a joint effort. We wouldn¡¯t be talking right now if it weren¡¯t for my colleagues.¡±
¡°That¡¯s not how the public sees it,¡± Stanton said, a reminder that greatly soured Pryce¡¯s mood. He¡¯d been sheltered in the lab for the past year, and during that time he¡¯d only cared for news that directly pertained to the plague. As a result, he¡¯d been unpleasantly surprised to discover that the major news outlets had nearly given him sole credit for the discovery, isolation, and production of penicillin, going so far as calling it ¡°Pryce¡¯s cure¡±.
¡°Talk to anyone at Ainsley¡¯s lab. They¡¯ll be able to teach it just as well as I could,¡± Pryce said, and moved to close the door.
¡°Wait wait wait!¡± Stanton said, shoving his foot in the door to prevent it from closing. ¡°You¡¯ll be paid well! Fifteen thousand a year.¡±
Pryce blinked, mildly surprised at the sum. ¡°I don¡¯t care. I¡¯m already scheduled to return to the lab next week.¡±
¡°But what will that accomplish?¡± Stanton asked.
Pryce frowned. ¡°Explain.¡±
¡°You claim that everyone at the lab knows penicillin as well as you do, correct? And the production plants are set to eliminate the plague by the end of the month. Is there anything in particular at the lab that only you can do?¡± He paused, and took Pryce¡¯s silence as an opportunity to continue. ¡°You¡¯re a household name now, like Vega and Palmer-¡± Pryce didn¡¯t bother to suppress a snort of disdain at this ridiculous comparison. ¡°-your work has inspired thousands if not millions of young adults ¨C don¡¯t you think it¡¯s important to foster their interest, so that they might make their own contributions into the field?¡±
Pryce stared silently at Stanton, begrudgingly admitting to himself that the unscrupulous man had a point. He knew what it was like to look up to others, and to feel the desire to make accomplishments of one¡¯s own. Spending even a year to lecture at the university of Auster would certainly provide a tangible benefit to the students¡and to the university itself.
¡°I always thought it was odd how frequently the newspapers mentioned my name,¡± Pryce said slowly. ¡°Almost like someone ¡®encouraged¡¯ them to build me up like some kind of hero.¡±
Stanton froze, only for an instant, but it was enough to confirm Pryce¡¯s suspicions.
¡°I haven¡¯t the faintest idea what you¡¯re suggesting,¡± Staton said, almost without missing a beat. ¡°The university would never condone such tactics. Penicillin has saved untold millions of lives ¨C does it really come as a surprise that the public would grow interested in its creator?¡± he asked, in a distastefully wheedling tone.
Pryce resisted the urge to roll his eyes at this non-answer, and instead he considered his options. Whether or not the university had engineered this scenario made little practical difference, and he could always do research in addition to providing lectures.
¡°Twenty thousand,¡± Pryce said. He could use the money for his own research-
¡°Done,¡± Staton said, enthusiastically shaking his hand. ¡°I''ll send you the documents later today, please sign and forward them to the university in a timely manner, and have a good rest of your day.¡±
The man closed the door and left before Pryce could say anything, leaving him with the distinct feeling that he¡¯d been thoroughly outplayed.
Two months later, 958/04/08
¡°Any other questions?¡± Pryce asked, trying to hide his exhaustion. ¡°Well, seeing as there¡¯s only a few minutes left I think we can dismiss class early today. For homework, make sure you go over the course syllabus, and please read the handout for next class.¡±
The first half of the class had gone as expected, with him introducing the course content and expectations to the students. He¡¯d opened the floor for questions for the second half, which had unfortunately taken up all of the remaining time.
He didn¡¯t blame the students at all, but it dismayed him to be given sole credit for the success of penicillin, even if he¡¯d expected it. In the end he¡¯d spent much of the question period correcting their false assumptions, and giving proper credit to the researchers on Ainsley¡¯s team.
Pryce swiftly packed up his belongings, but was stopped from leaving by a group of students who¡¯d gathered at the door.
¡°Do all of you have more questions?¡± he asked, surprised and a little disappointed. ¡°We should take this to my office if this is going to take more than a few minutes.¡±
¡°That won¡¯t be necessary, professor,¡± said a tall and lanky student. ¡°I just wanted to thank you; my parents are alive thanks to you ¨C er, thanks to you and your colleagues, I mean.¡±
¡°Same here,¡± said a boy with freckles. ¡°Except it was my uncle who was in the hospital.¡±
¡°It was my grandparents for me,¡± another added, along with several others who similarly voiced their thanks.
¡°I¡¡± Pryce swallowed, and resisted the urge to take a step back. ¡°You¡¯re welcome,¡± he managed, and swiftly marched back to his office.
Pryce collapsed into his chair a few minutes later, glad that no one had followed him. Shame gnawed at him for reacting the way he did, but he¡¯d been unprepared for the visceral bitterness that being thanked evoked in his heart.
Bitterness and¡resentment, as much as he hated to admit it.
Pryce jumped as someone knocked on his door, and he looked up to see a young man standing in the doorway ¨C he¡¯d forgotten to close it.
¡°Professor? May I come in?¡±
¡°Of course,¡± Pryce said, drawing himself up properly. He struggled to recall if this was one of his students ¨C the lecture room had been filled to capacity and more.
¡°My name¡¯s Scott, Scott Harris,¡± the student said, shaking his hand. ¡°I¡¯m one of your students,¡± he added, a little awkwardly.
¡°I see. What can I do for you, Scott?¡± Pryce asked, with a strained smile.
¡°Well, you see, I¡¯m an engineer,¡± Scott said, surprising Pryce. ¡°Well, an engineering student, anyway. I¡¯m in my final year, and I figured I might as well branch out and learn something interesting. Problem is I don¡¯t know much about biology, so I thought I''d ask for your advice on whether this course is for me or not.¡±
Pryce was pleasantly surprised by this question, as he¡¯d been expecting another private thank-you. ¡°Well, this course does assume that students have some fundamental knowledge,¡± he said, slowly. ¡°How about this, you come by after class and I¡¯ll help you fill in the blanks.¡±
¡°Oh, that sounds great!¡± Scott said thankfully. ¡°But¡you don¡¯t have office hours right now, do you?¡±
¡°It¡¯ll be fine,¡± Pryce said with a dismissive gesture. ¡°So, what do you know about microbiology?¡±
¡°Er¡we¡¯re starting now?¡± Scott asked, surprised.
¡°Do you have anywhere else to be?¡±
¡°Well¡no,¡± Scott admitted.
¡°Word of advice: It¡¯s always better to start things early whenever you can,¡± Pryce said, leaning forward. ¡°So, let¡¯s get started.¡±
1 year later, 959/03/13
Pryce stared at the contract.
His one-year term was nearly up now, and the university had offered him even more money to teach for another few years. It still pained him to think about correcting the preconceptions of a new batch of students, but he¡¯d enjoyed teaching more than he¡¯d expected.
Pryce sighed, and decided to finish some housekeeping before making his decision. His small and modest house was minimalist by most standards, and cleaning up was never a difficult task.
It did, however, remind Pryce of the Wright family¡¯s belongings, and he guiltily recalled that he¡¯d never read Arthur¡¯s notes as he¡¯d promised. He was genuinely very busy with his research and preparing lectures, but those were just excuses.
No, the real reason why he¡¯d procrastinated for so long was that he was afraid ¨C afraid of what Arthur had written in his last days alive. With a sigh, he decided that he deserved to know, one way or another.
Pryce coughed as he dusted off the cardboard box, and braced himself as he flipped open Arthur¡¯s notes.
The first dozen pages depicted the inner mechanisms of a chronometer. The next twenty or thirty pages were filled with practice math problems, and then it went back to a mix of scientific trivia. On occasion there would be a more personal note expressing a stray opinion or thought; these would, almost without exception, be related to the Longshot program, and its discovery of the other continents.
The notes shifted to speculation as Arthur wondered what would be found on those continents. These were accompanied by drawings of oddly proportioned animals, some of which resembled dinosaurs, while others bore a heavy resemblance to creatures of myth.
The last page stole Pryce¡¯s breath away ¨C upon it, a sketch of six familiar figures stood together.
Once he¡¯d regained his composure he flipped through the notebook a few more times, but none of the notes were dated, and there was no mention of Arthur¡¯s own sickness.
Pryce soberly closed the book, and gently placed it back into the box. He turned his focus back to the newspaper that Arthur had saved from so long ago; the one that featured the GLEXA recruitment advert.
Three days later, 959/03/16
¡°Hi, how can I help you?¡± asked the GLEXA secretary.
¡°I¡¯m here to apply for the Horizon expedition,¡± Pryce said, handing her his application.
¡°I¡¯m sorry, but the application deadline has already passed,¡± the secretary said, but paused when she saw his resume ¨C or rather, his name. ¡°...the Doctor Alexander Pryce?¡± she asked, eyes wide.
¡°I have never met anyone who shared my name,¡± Pryce sighed, resisting the urge to be facetious.
¡°...let me call my manager,¡± the secretary said.
¡°The application deadline was some time ago, but to be honest we¡¯re a bit behind schedule, for reasons I¡¯m sure you¡¯re familiar with,¡± Director Kirk said as they walked through the facility. ¡°The ship¡¯s construction had just begun when the plague hit, and I¡¯ve more or less spent the past year trying to get us back on track.¡±
¡°I see,¡± Pryce said, not terribly surprised. ¡°When is the ship scheduled to set sail?¡±
¡°Two years from now,¡± Kirk said firmly.
¡°Is that the official date, or your personal estimate?¡±
Kirk didn¡¯t quite smile, but the corners of her eyes wrinkled a little in amusement. ¡°Official.¡±
¡°Then I guess I have plenty of time to catch up with the others.¡±
¡°Indeed,¡± Kirk nodded, and shook his hand. ¡°Glad to have you aboard, Doctor Pryce.¡±
3 months later, 959/06/27
¡°And this is the engine room,¡± Emile said. ¡°You probably won¡¯t ever need to step foot in here, but I figured you¡¯d want to see it.¡±
¡°It¡¯s quite something,¡± Pryce agreed. He knew next to nothing about ships, but the engine room was quite obviously a marvel of engineering.
¡°Can¡¯t wait to see how she handles,¡± murmured Emile. ¡°She¡¯s not built to be fast, but she¡¯s still got two six-hundred kilowatt Wright engines powering her.¡±
Pryce froze mid-step.
¡°Hm? Is something the matter?¡± Emile asked, looking back in confusion.
¡°...tell me more about the Wright engine,¡± Pryce said, slowly.
¡°Oh, well it¡¯s more or less a straight upgrade over the diesel engines used back in the war,¡± Emile said, rubbing his beard thoughtfully. ¡°More efficient, more reliable, more powerful. I think I heard it was designed by some bright fellow about a decade or so ago, why?¡±
Pryce paused. ¡°I know this isn¡¯t your responsibility, but would you mind teaching me how the engines work? And how to operate them?¡±
Emile raised an eyebrow at this odd request, but did not seem bothered by it. ¡°Well, it couldn¡¯t hurt to have a backup engineer, I suppose. Sure, why not?¡±
¡°Thank you,¡± Pryce said gratefully, and turned to glance at the engines. ¡°I¡¯ll be in your care, then.¡±
9 months later, 961/03/03
Pryce stood in front of the graves, just as he had so many times before.
¡°Well, it¡¯s finally time for me to go,¡± he said, and gently knelt before Arthur¡¯s headstone. ¡°I¡¯ll be back. I don¡¯t know when, but I¡¯ll be back.¡±
Pryce flipped open the chronometer as he spoke. Years of use had worn the outer shell of the device, but the insides remained pristine. He had never made any modifications to the device, at least, not until this morning.
Now, a child¡¯s sketch could be seen on the inner shell of the chronometer.
¡°When I do, I¡¯ll tell you all about what I¡¯ve seen. I know I¡¯ve broken a lot of promises. I know you have no reason to trust me, but I¡¯ll do my best to keep this one.¡±
Pryce closed the chronometer with a sharp click, and turned to leave, ready to depart the Mainland.
961/3/04 ¨C Mission day 0
The crew stood at the stern of the Horizon, watching as the ship pulled away from shore.
It wasn¡¯t the first time they¡¯d seen such a sight; the ship had gone through rigorous testing before the actual start of the mission, but it was very different to know that they would not see land for at least another two weeks, and likely would not return home for months.
¡°Well, I think that¡¯s enough standing around for now,¡± Emile said, clapping his hands. ¡°Kendall, Jerry, I need you down in the engine room, let¡¯s go!¡±
¡°Looks like it¡¯s going to be a boring two weeks,¡± Hawkins yawned, ¡°Anyone up for a game of Aturanga? Pryce?¡±
Pryce shook his head. ¡°I brought enough literature to read for the journey,¡± he said, though he wasn¡¯t sure if he¡¯d be able to read much of it with the ship¡¯s constant, nauseating swaying.
¡°If you say so,¡± Hawkins shrugged. ¡°Anyone else?¡±
Pryce left the dissipating crowd and made his way back to his room, and laid down upon his hammock in hopes of ameliorating his discomfort. It wasn¡¯t particularly effective, and he dearly hoped that things would improve over the course of their journey.
961/03/16 ¨C Mission day 12
¡°Any improvement?¡± Siebert asked as Pryce left the medical bay.
¡°No, but they¡¯re stable for now,¡± Pryce reported. ¡°How much longer till we make landfall?¡±
¡°Captain Williams wasn¡¯t able to give me a straight answer,¡± Siebert sighed. ¡°The storm¡¯s still going strong, and our time of arrival depends on when this damned storm will finally clear up.¡±
¡°Well, hopefully they¡¯ll recover faster with a solid place to rest,¡± Pryce sighed. ¡°Keep an eye on the patients. I¡¯ll go see if the crew needs any help.¡±
¡°Understood,¡± Siebert nodded, and pulled the door to the med bay shut behind her.
The hurricane that had ensnared the ship had been raging for days. Pryce had initially been among the worst of those affected by seasickness, but once a few miserable days had passed he had somehow grown acclimated to the waves ¨C at least until the hurricane struck. He still felt miserable, but many of the ship¡¯s able hands were even worse off, so they needed all the help they could get.
¡°Back again, Doctor Pryce?¡± Randal asked. The poor man was the ship¡¯s primary navigator, and had barely slept in the past few days, as evidenced by the bags under his hazy, unfocused eyes.
¡°Indeed,¡± Pryce said, taking note of the others who were on duty. ¡°Is there anything I can do to help?¡±
¡°Sure,¡± Randal said, looking at the ship¡¯s chronometer. ¡°Our shift is almost up. The next group will be here to relieve us in about ten minutes, would you mind looking after things until they arrive?¡±
¡°Will do,¡± Pryce nodded. His official training had been limited with respect to operating the ship itself, but he¡¯d learned enough to be comfortable handling the ship for short periods of time.
¡°Appreciated,¡± Randal mumbled before stumbling off. The other crew members likewise nodded their thanks before following their superior down belowdecks.
Pryce frowned as he checked the chronometer for the tenth time in half as many minutes. The next shift was over five minutes late, which was very unusual. They may have been exhausted, but Captain Williams ran a good ship, and his men were well disciplined. In fact, they¡¯d been early for the last few times Pryce had done this, so it was concerning for all of them to be so late.
Still, he couldn¡¯t just leave the ship unattended. It was possible the crewmen were preoccupied with a more important task, so Pryce decided to wait until they arrived. Time passed, and his concern grew with each minute that crept by. He was just about to go find them himself at the half hour mark, but at that moment the ship¡¯s lights abruptly flickered and died.
The much dimmer emergency lights flickered into existence seconds later, but Pryce had truly begun to worry. He fumbled for an emergency hurricane lamp in the dimly-lit wheelhouse, and in a few seconds the lantern flared to life.
Light source in hand, he made his way down into the bowels of the ship, walking slowly so as to ensure that he would not stumble and break his light source.
He¡¯d made it down three decks when the flame flickered, and he noticed that it was much weaker than before. Pryce turned a valve to release more gas, only to find that it was nearly fully open.
Pryce stared at the lantern, confused by this turn of events. The lantern still provided more than enough visibility for him to navigate the lower decks, but something felt wrong to him.
On a whim, he retreated back up the stairs, and Pryce watched in horror as the flame grew larger and larger.
The lantern wasn¡¯t malfunctioning. There was something wrong with the air, something that displaced enough oxygen to stifle the lantern¡¯s flame.
Pryce clambered up the stairs as quickly as he could, and flung open the windows and doors of the wheelhouse, heedless of the rainwater that gushed into the room. He panted as he considered his options, feeling acutely aware of the unusual exhaustion in his limbs ¨C a symptom of a lack of oxygen. He couldn¡¯t be certain what the gas was, but the only explanation that made sense was if the engines or ventilation system malfunctioned ¨C possibly both. In that case, the gas was probably carbon dioxide and/or carbon monoxide. It baffled him that such a thing could possibly happen, but the cause wasn¡¯t the most important matter at hand.
At this moment, most if not all of the crew were currently residing in areas of the ship with deathly low levels of oxygen. The change might have been gradual enough for the symptoms to merely manifest as exhaustion, which most of the crew were already feeling due to the hurricane. None of them may have noticed anything wrong until it was too late.
The human body could only survive minutes without oxygen. Pryce knew logically that there was not enough time for him to save the vast majority of the crew, but he pushed that thought away to set about doing what he could.
The gas was definitely heavier than air, so those who resided in the highest levels of the ship had the highest chance of survival. With this in mind Pryce rushed to the medical bay, doing his best to conserve oxygen along the way while following the ship¡¯s dimly lit corridors.
He felt slightly lightheaded by the time he reached the med bay, and once inside he took a few seconds to fling open a window ¨C ignoring the torrential spray of rain and sea water that it let in ¨C and dragged the first body he literally stumbled across down the corridor, up the stairs, and into the wheelhouse.
Pryce collapsed onto the floor the moment they¡¯d reached relative safety, and panted as he waited for the lightheadedness to fade. He turned his head to face the motionless body he had retrieved, who turned out to be Siebert.
With a trembling hand, he pressed his fingers against her carotid artery.
No pulse.
Kneeling down, he laid his ear against her mouth.
No breath.
Pryce clenched his fist as he stood, his lips pressed into a thin line. He could attempt to perform CPR, or he could retrieve someone else from the ship.
He discarded the latter option almost immediately. Siebert was a smaller woman, and her oxygen requirements were lower compared to the men who resided in the med bay. None of them would be in better condition than her.
Pryce considered retrieving Captain Williams, who resided on the same level as the med bay. His quarters were a bit further away, but he might be able to make it.
Every second would matter no matter which option he chose, and so he decided on the path that had the highest chance of saving someone.
CPR was a relatively new medical protocol; it could revive the recently deceased, but the odds of success failed with each passing second. Pryce knew he had no time for deliberation, so he quickly began attempts to resuscitate Siebert. He didn¡¯t waste any time checking the chronometer; instead he kept time by counting chest compressions.
His arms and chest burned with exhaustion at 100 chest compressions, but he kept going.
At the 400 mark his vision blacked out, and he nearly collapsed on top of Siebert¡¯s unresponsive body. Pryce managed to continue the resuscitation after half a minute¡¯s rest, but he was so exhausted that he only managed to reach 500 before collapsing from exhaustion.
Pryce spent a few minutes afterwards panting and heaving upon the floor. He faintly remembered that carbon monoxide was able to bind with oxygen receptor proteins like glue, a lethal trait which rendered the proteins useless for four to five hours.
Water had begun to pool on the floor, soaking his pants and freezing his legs. Pryce tried to stand, but slipped on the wet floor as the ship tilted. He only barely managed to sit himself up against the wall, and waited a few minutes to recover.
Pryce tried to stand once he had regained his breath, but his legs had no strength. He waited a few more minutes, then headed back down the stairs to find the captain.
Pryce heaved, his arms burning as he kneeled over Captain Williams.
He¡¯d performed chest compressions on the man for as long as he could, to no avail.
The crew were all surely dead now. He was the only one left.
A glint of light caught his attention, and Pryce looked outside to see that the hurricane had abated. Soon, sunlight filtered through the clouds and into the wheelhouse, completely uncaring of the disaster that had taken the lives of everyone around him.
961/05/08 ¨C Mission day 74
Fathom stirred from his light slumber, awakened by Pryce¡¯s tossing and turning. The human was also mumbling in his sleep, though Fathom couldn¡¯t be sure if the words were nonsense or not.
Pryce had his ¡®sleeping bag¡¯ set up some distance away from Fathom¡¯s own pile of furs, but even at this distance Fathom could detect the stress in the humans¡¯ scent. Humans were odd in that they would leak from all over their bodies when stressed or exerting themselves. It was honestly a little gross, though it did make it very easy to read certain emotions, like stress, agitation, and fear ¨C scents that were practically rolling off of the sleeping Pryce.
Fathom pushed himself to his feet, and padded over to gently nudge the human awake.
Pryce woke up with a start, and seemed surprised by Fathom¡¯s proximity. The human seemed to take a few seconds to remember where he was, and his breathing calmed as he sat himself up.
¡°Are you okay?¡± Fathom asked. ¡°You were turning around and saying things in your sleep.¡±
¡°Yeah, I¡¯m fine,¡± Pryce said, rubbing his eyes. ¡°Just had a dream about¡things from the past.¡±
¡°Bad things?¡±
¡°...yeah, a little,¡± Pryce admitted.
Fathom rumbled in thought, then asked, ¡°are you cold?¡±
¡°It¡¯s¡a little cool, but I¡¯m not cold,¡± Pryce said, sounding a little confused.
¡°My parents said that cold makes you sleep bad,¡± Fathom said, and plopped himself down to curl around the human.
¡°Er¡what are you doing?¡± Pryce asked as Fathom slid a membranous wing over his head.
¡°Sleeping,¡± Fathom said, and closed his eyes. He did not fall asleep immediately, and neither did Pryce, but the human seemed to relax after a few minutes, and soon afterwards he had fallen back asleep.
Satisfied, Fathom allowed himself to glide back to sleep, and this time he did not awaken until the sun rose.
The End
Oneshot: Second Contact
Mission Day 11: Disaster
¡°Pass me the rope!¡± Edward roared, his voice barely audible over the storm.
Callan did as he asked, then clutched the railing as an even larger wave struck the Horizon. The two of them had gone out during a lull in the storm to repair some of the destroyed rigging, but they hadn¡¯t expected the waves to intensify so quickly. Callan had been trained for this, but her primary role was to be one of the geologists, and she was never supposed to serve in such severe circumstances. Callan would never have needed to risk herself if they had not encountered a storm, or if the sailors had not fallen ill, but there was no time to think about that now, not when she had a job to do.
¡°Done!¡± Edward hollered. The storm had destroyed some of the rigging, but his repairs would help ensure that no further damage would occur. ¡°Get back inside, we need to-!¡±
The bow of the ship suddenly plummeted, and they both looked up to see a wave towering over the ship.
¡°Hold on!¡± Edward yelled, and the two of them huddled down to brace for impact.
The wave came crashing down onto the deck, but only barely managed to reach their higher position. Even so, the small amount of water that struck their legs threatened to tear them off the ship.
¡°Are you okay?¡± Callan yelled as the wave subsided, and was horrified to see an ugly red mark on the side of the sailor¡¯s head.
Edward had a dazed, unfocused look in his eyes, but still he beckoned for her to follow as he rose, and stumbled to get back inside the ship.
They¡¯d almost reached safety when their world tilted once again, even more this time, and a monstrous wall of water rose up from the ocean, threatening to swallow the ship whole.
¡°Go! Go! Go!¡± Edward yelled, though his encouragement was far from needed.
Callan barely managed to make it inside the ship before the wave struck, and only then did she realize she¡¯d outpaced Edward in the chaos. Turning around, she was horrified to see her crewmate sprawled upon the deck, with only one hand clutching a railing.
She was out beside him before she could even think, and swiftly looped his arm around her shoulder to drag the half-conscious man to safety.
They were steps away from the hatch when the next wave struck, tearing them off the deck with such force that their hands may as well not have been on the railing at all.
The next thing Callan knew she was deep beneath the waves, struggling to orient herself. The geologist fought and kicked towards the surface, but she only managed a singular breath before the tumultuous waves knocked her beneath the ocean again.
In most respects, Callan was quite a good swimmer, but her drenched clothing weighed heavily on her limbs, and the crashing waves stole her every breath. Not even the greatest swimmer alive could remain afloat for long in such a situation, and soon she sank beneath the waves for the last time.
The turbulent ocean surface was almost tranquil from beneath the waves; it may have been relaxing if Callan weren¡¯t dying of asphyxiation. She knew death would come the moment she opened her mouth, but all the will in the world couldn''t stop her body''s need to expel carbon dioxide in her lungs.
Just before her resolve failed, something enveloped her entire body.
Suddenly Callan was flipped end over end, forcing her to snort out what air she had to keep saltwater from flowing up her nostrils.
At the same time Callan weakly flailed her limbs, inadvertently kicking something soft and pushing her out of the water. She gasped ¨C the muggy, salty air smelled faintly of decaying fish, but to her it was more refreshing than any summer breeze.
Callan scrambled to keep herself aloft, and greedily heaved for more air as she took in her surroundings. She stumbled as the waist-high water sloshed to and fro, and abruptly she realized that she could see.
Speckles of dim, blue-white lights covered the soft spongy ¡®floor¡¯. As Callan¡¯s eyes adjusted to the darkness, she realized she was leaning against a wall of bristles.
A whale.
She was inside the mouth of a whale.
The sound of coughing snapped her out of her bewilderment, and she rushed over to help up a waterlogged Edward.
¡°Are you alright?¡± she asked, sitting him up against a wall.
¡°F-fine,¡± Edward sputtered. ¡°Where¡where are we?¡±
¡°Inside of a whale, I think¡¡± Callan said slowly.
¡°Watch out-!¡± Edward coughed as a dark shape moved through the chest-high water, swimming up to the two humans¡only to bump them in the chest.
Callan gawked at the creature, realizing that-
¡°It¡¯s a baby,¡± Edward breathed.
The infant eyed them as it emitted a noise, something which Callan could only describe as a clicking whistle. The movement of what Callan assumed to be the parent caused the water within its mouth to slosh from end to end, pushing the humans around, though the infant seemed adept in moving about despite the pendulous waves.
¡°Well¡it seems friendly,¡± Callan said, glancing back at Edward in concern. The bruise on his head had swollen even further, and the man looked positively nauseous. ¡°Are you alright?¡± she asked.
¡°I¡¯ll manage,¡± Edward said, his voice uneven despite his visible efforts to remain stoic. ¡°Is there anything we can do?¡±
¡°There¡¯s no way for us to get back onto the ship, even if we could get her to open her mouth,¡± Callan grunted as she made an effort to right herself.
¡°Then I guess we¡¯re stuck here,¡± Edward muttered as the infant whale chirped happily at them.
¡°Hold on, there¡¯s some higher¡¡®ground¡¯ over there,¡± Callan said, taking a good look at her surroundings. The back of the whale¡¯s mouth had notably shallower water. ¡°We need to get out of this water, else we¡¯ll freeze to death.¡±
¡°Good call,¡± Edward said, and the two of them trudged their way up to the higher elevation. They weren¡¯t able to completely get out of the water, but it was enough.
¡°What do you think is going to happen to us?¡± Edward wheezed, sitting himself up against the wall of the whale¡¯s mouth.
¡°I don¡¯t think she¡¯s going to eat us,¡± Callan said uncertainly. ¡°Look at the baby. I think her species protects their infants by keeping them in their mouths.¡±
¡°Her?¡± Edward asked questioningly.
¡°...just a guess. I suppose it could be the father,¡± Callan shrugged.
¡°Well, why would it protect us? We¡¯re not its babies.¡±
Callan shrugged tiredly. ¡°Your guess is as good as mine.¡±
Mission Day 12: Journey
Slosh¡slosh¡slosh¡
There was nothing to mark the passage of time, save for the periodic shifting of the water in the whale¡¯s mouth. On occasion the whale would emit a deep, haunting cry that Callan felt as much as she heard.
They did not run out of air, as Callan had silently feared, which made sense when she thought about it. After all, the infant would not survive if the air were not cycled.
Slosh¡slosh¡slosh¡
That did not mean they were entirely safe; the water lapped at their legs, sapping away their body heat. The ocean was fortunately quite warm, but it was still cooler than human body temperature, and the two of them grew colder with each passing hour.
Slosh¡slosh¡slosh¡
The infant seemed rather confused by their presence; it often swam up to the humans, clicking in what felt like a curious manner. The calf was far larger than either of them, measuring around three or four meters long, and did not seem bothered by the confined space.
Slosh¡slosh¡slosh¡
Edward¡¯s condition had deteriorated as the hours passed, with the man eventually vomiting within their enclosed space. Yet more time slipped by, and their eyes grew heavy-lidded despite their constant efforts to stay above the water.
Mission Day 13: Landfall
Slosh¡¡slosh¡¡slosh¡¡
¡°Edward?¡±
¡°Hm?¡± Edward murmured, feverishly opening his eyes.
¡°I think the whale¡¯s moving differently,¡± Callan said hesitantly. She felt that the movement of the water around them had slowed, though it was hard to tell for certain.
¡°I don¡¯t see any difference,¡± Edward mumbled, his eyes hazy and unfocused.
Callan was about to respond, but was interrupted by the whale¡¯s penetrating cry ¨C one that was far louder than any they had heard before.
¡°Something¡¯s happening,¡± Callan warned, just before the whale¡¯s mouth began to tilt backwards. The enormous creature¡¯s mouth began to open, allowing blinding sunlight to stream into its jaws.
¡°Where are we?¡± Edward asked, shielding his eyes.
Callan frowned. ¡°Hold on, I-¡±
The words in her throat died as the whale¡¯s lower jaw dipped into the ocean, causing a fresh flood of saltwater to knock them off their feet.
The two humans tumbled through the water, and Callan began to panic before she realized that the ocean floor was only several meters away. She managed to orient herself within a few seconds, and kicked towards the surface. The geologist gasped for breath the moment she breached the surface, and to her relief Edward followed suit a few moments afterwards.
Whipping her head around, Callan was relieved to see an island a short distance away. ¡°Over there!¡± she called to Edward, who visibly struggled to stay afloat. ¡°Relax, hold a deep breath, focus on floating,¡± she said, grabbing him from behind so that she could drag him backwards towards the shore. The process gave her a good look at their cetacean savior, who was a rather unremarkable dark blue save for the lighter streaks of scars across her body, with a distinct cross-shaped scar over the left eye.
Callan was an excellent swimmer, but she was sleep-deprived, hungry, and completely exhausted. They were close, so close, with nothing but a few dozen meters of tranquil waters between them and survival ¨C but that distance may as well have been an ocean for her battered body. Edward tried to assist her by feebly kicking his legs, but his efforts had no discernable effect on their progress. If she were alone, she might have a chance, but she certainly wasn¡¯t going to leave him to die so close to safety.
Suddenly Callan felt a jolt, and the two of them began drifting towards the shore at a rapid pace, and she realized that the calf was pushing them along towards the beach.
The relief she felt when her feet dug into the seabed was immense, and it gave her just enough energy to drag Edward onto the beach, with her nearly collapsing on top of him. She did nothing but breathe for a minute, but then the calf¡¯s clicks and whistles drew her attention. Her limbs felt like lead, but she forced herself up to see it swimming back towards its mother, jumping into the air as if to say farewell. She weakly waved goodbye, though she wasn¡¯t sure if either of them could see it.
The geologist watched as the mother ponderously turned around, and dove back into the water with a kick of her enormous tail. In the distance she saw more whales; other members of the pod who shot spouts of water into the air as they surfaced.
¡°Are you alright?¡± Callan asked Edward as the whales receded into the distance.
¡°Fine,¡± Edward wetly coughed, which had the opposite effect of reassurance. The noise sounded serious, and infection was highly probable given that some seawater had surely entered his lungs. ¡°I don¡¯t suppose you see the ship anywhere?¡± he wheezed as he crawled away from the lapping waves.
¡°Unfortunately not,¡± Callan said as she glanced around at their surroundings. ¡°We should¡find shelter.¡±
¡°We should,¡± Edward agreed, closing his eyes.
¡°Hey, don¡¯t fall asleep yet,¡± Callan said, but stumbled as the full force of her exhaustion struck her like a physical wave. Her body was shutting down, now that there was no crisis to keep her awake, and she fell to her knees. ¡°Okay, we¡¯ll rest for a minute, then we¡¯ll¡go do¡stuff¡¡± she mumbled, and passed out on the warm sunlit beach.
The first thought that came to Callan¡¯s mind was that her throat was dry. So dry that she couldn''t even form words. The second thing was that she was hungry, ravenously hungry.
She pushed herself up to see the sun setting. She hasn''t slept for as long as she''d expected, unless she had slept for something approaching 30 hours, which¡seemed unlikely, seeing as her limbs still felt like lead.
Callan glanced down at Edward, who snored in a wheezing, sickly way. Deciding to let him rest, she staggered away in search of fresh water. As she walked, she noticed that the island was home to many crabs, which she ignored with great difficulty ¨C she wasn¡¯t going to eat a raw crab; not without at least trying to start a fire.
She didn¡¯t have to get very far to find a few old coconuts on the beach, which surprised her. The geologist supposed this proved that they could float across oceans after all, and picked up a few of them to bring back.
Getting into the coconuts proved to be difficult, however. She could crack them open easily enough, but that wasted much of the juice inside. Callan eventually settled on using a pointy rock as a makeshift drill, which was time-consuming, but far less wasteful.
¡°Edward, can you get up?¡± Callan said, gently shaking her crewmate, who coughed as he awoke.
¡°Where¡?¡± Edward asked before breaking into a coughing fit. He pulled his hand away, revealing a glob of bloody phlegm. ¡°Oh. That¡¯s not good,¡± he wheezed, wobbling as he pushed himself up. ¡°Give me one of those coconuts, would you?¡±
Callan did as he asked, her lips pursed into a thin line. Blood in his phlegm was a bad sign, and without medical treatment¡well, maybe she¡¯d just have to hope that he¡¯d get better.
Mission Day 14: Survival
Callan awoke early in the morning to survey their new place of residence, a task which only took a few hours. The island was small, elliptic, and around two or three kilometers across at the widest.
The flora that inhabited the island were all thin and tough, as if they only barely managed to survive. Even the trees were too sparse to be really called a forest. The wildlife was likewise limited, consisting mostly of small birds, rodents, and crabs, with only the latter being a worthwhile source of food. She¡¯d been ecstatic to find a few small ponds of water that had gathered in impermeable rock, but a closer inspection revealed them to be concentrated salt water. Fortunately other such ponds deeper into the heart of the island contained fresh water, which ensured their short-term survival for now.
Yesterday Callan had made a bow-drill out of a stick and strands of her long hair, but her attempts to start a fire were met with frustrating failure. She¡¯d used this very method to start a fire from scratch during training, but it seemed everything on the island was perpetually damp, and the two of them had gone to sleep that night in a shallow cave after voraciously tearing into a few raw crabs.
Edward seemed to rest more easily after their meal, but in retrospect Callan was a little disturbed by how delicious the crabs were. Still, she was intent on getting a fire started as soon as possible. Preferably today.
Mission Day 19: Survival
¡°Damnit,¡± Callan swore as the pile of grass simply refused to combust.
The geologist had been trying to start a fire for several days now, but all her attempts had resulted in nothing but failure. She¡¯d made some progress by experimenting with different types of grass in different ratios, some of which smoked more than others, but none of them ever produced a flame.
The sun was about to set, so Callan was forced to give up for now. Turning around, she didn¡¯t see Edward anywhere. The sailor must have disappeared while she worked to start a fire, which was unusual given his worsening condition.
It didn¡¯t take long for her to find him, collapsed a short distance away.
¡°Edward!¡± Callan exclaimed, running over to help her crewmate. She helped turn him over, and breathed a sigh of relief when he groaned. ¡°What happened?¡± she asked, checking him for injury.
¡°Went to the bathroom,¡± Edward muttered, looking away shamefully. ¡°Next thing I know I¡¯m waking up on the ground. Must¡¯ve¡tripped or-¡± he was interrupted by another bout of coughing, splattering his hand red with blood. ¡°...I¡¯m going to die, aren¡¯t I?¡± he asked, meeting Callan¡¯s eyes for the first time in days.
¡°The ship has antibiotics,¡± Callan said reassuringly. ¡°If we can just-¡±
¡°Save it,¡± Edward sighed. ¡°My lungs haven¡¯t been feeling right ever since we fell into the ocean, and the ship¡¯s long gone,¡± he wheezed before hacking up more blood.
Callan pursed her lips, unable to offer any consolation. He was right, and they both knew it.
¡°Sure sucks to die after surviving all that, but that¡¯s life, I guess,¡± Edward wheezed. ¡°If you make it, tell my brother¡¡± he fell silent, and stared off into the sunset for several long seconds. ¡°Damnit, I don¡¯t know. Tell him¡I¡¯m sorry, I guess. For everything. And tell him to take care of himself. He¡¯ll understand, I hope.¡±
¡°...I will,¡± Callan said, speaking past the lump in her throat.
¡°...you got stuff to say¡to your man too, don¡¯t you?¡± the sailor asked, between wheezing coughs.
Callan bit her lip, glancing down at the ground.
¡°Then I guess you¡¯ll have to¡survive for the both of us,¡± Edward chuckled tiredly.
¡°...I¡¯ll try,¡± Callan promised.
¡°Good,¡± Edward tiredly nodded, and allowed Callan to help him up.
Mission Day 21: Alone
¡°Good morning,¡± Callan yawned, stretching as she awoke. ¡°...Ed?¡± She asked. Extending a hand, she gently shook the sailor, only to find his body stiff and unmoving.
Callan pursed her lips, and bowed her head. A quick check showed that he had no pulse, confirming what she¡¯d already known.
Callan grunted as she ploughed a jagged rock into the beach, using it as a makeshift spade.
Edward¡¯s sickness had worsened gradually, and as such his passing didn¡¯t come as a surprise. The two of them weren¡¯t very close either, but they¡¯d still experienced this hardship together.
Now, she was left to endure it alone.
A sting of pain halted Callan¡¯s task ¨C she¡¯d nicked her finger on a sharp rock hidden within the sand, and a trickle of blood oozed from the small cut.
She ignored it, clenched her fist, and brought the spade down.
Callan stepped back to look over the grave, her hands rubbed raw from the effort.
It was shallow, and inadequate, but it was the best that she could do.
The geologist opened her mouth, but words failed to come. What could she say?
Instead she clenched her fist, and focused on what she needed to do to survive.
Mission day 25: Wayfinding
Callan looked up into the night sky, searching for a certain star.
Her coordinates were impossible to determine with the tools she could make, and at first she had assumed that knowing her exact location would have no use besides telling her how screwed she was; after all, it wasn¡¯t as if she had any way of traversing the ocean.
But she¡¯d given it more thought, and the geologist realized that if she knew her latitude then she could know where to look for the Horizon, as the ship was expected to be on course to the eastern coast of the smaller continent at a latitude of 22.5 degrees north.
Of course, a ship couldn¡¯t travel on a perfectly straight path, especially with that hurricane blowing her off course, but it was better than looking in random directions.
It took several days (and many coconuts) of trial and error, but she¡¯d finally made a sextant that could provide some degree of accuracy.
First she¡¯d used the bow-drill to drill a hole straight through the coconut, then she made and broke several flint tools trying to cut it in half. In the end she¡¯d ruined the coconut, so she had to drill a new one.
Callan had considered cutting her hair short before setting sail, and now she was very glad that she¡¯d decided to bundle it all up with a hair tie instead ¨C her long hair was an extremely valuable source of string, and she tied a strand to the center of the straightest stick she could find. Then she just had to tie the other end of the string to a pebble, insert the stick through one half of the coconut, and she had a sextant.
The degree markings she¡¯d nicked into the shell should be fairly accurate as well, as it was child¡¯s play to divide a shell into quarters or eighths using strands of hair.
Callan aimed her sextant at the north star, noting that it did not seem much higher or lower than usual, and read her latitude.
Thirty-two degrees north.
Callan pursed her lips, and let out a long, drawn-out sigh. Some mental math told her that 9.5 degrees of latitude was about a thousand kilometers of distance.
The geologist checked her sextant regardless of prior tests proving the accuracy of the device. She ran through the math again, despite knowing that no error of arithmetic could account for a thousand kilometer difference.
After a minute she set the sextant down and tightly wrapped her arms around her knees. The Horizon would never come anywhere near this godforsaken island.
She never had any hope of rescue.
Mission Day 86: Second Contact
Callan stalked her prey, her steps swift and silent with practice.
In the days after Edward¡¯s death, she¡¯d found traces of odd, six-legged rodent-like creatures. These proved to be elusive, and she¡¯d largely ignored them until she realized the crab population was markedly thinner than before. It was then that she¡¯d decided to hunt these creatures, who she¡¯d nicknamed prowlers. They were fairly large, easily outweighing her, and they seemed intelligent, or at least cautious of her presence. The prowlers were rarely seen in the daytime, and it had taken a few days for Callan to learn that they lived in well-hidden dens.
Callan wasn¡¯t sure why they hid underground when the island seemed free of predators; perhaps they were hiding from birds of prey. Either way, their dens were deep enough that she couldn¡¯t catch them while they hid. She¡¯d considered smoking them out, but they might just refuse to come out, leaving their meat to spoil uselessly underground.
So, she¡¯d waited, watched, and studied the prowler¡¯s behaviors. The prowlers were slow, but cautious and powerfully built. The creatures mainly subsisted off of the coarse, tough grass that covered the island, but they seemed to prefer the tiny, inedible berries that could be found all over the island.
So that was what she used as bait.
Callan silently made her way over to one of her traps, and waited. She had tried to hunt the prowlers many times before, but she¡¯d never managed to succeed, as evidenced by the burning hunger in her stomach. The knowledge that this might be her last real attempt weighed heavily on her as she readjusted her grip on her flint knapped knife, her heart hammering as she waited for the right moment to strike.
The prowler she¡¯d been following sniffed the ground, gradually approaching the handful of berries she¡¯d set as bait.
Callan held her breath. The prowler took a step closer. Then another.
She flicked her flintstone knife, cutting her makeshift rope and dropping the heaviest rock she could lift straight onto the prowler.
A terrible screech filled the air. Callan leapt forward, charred spear in hand to stab the creature with all her might, piercing the creature¡¯s side, but not very deeply ¨C it¡¯s skin was so thick ¨C and Callan leapt back as the prowler flailed, and in its panic the creature leapt off the nearby cliff, dropping a few meters onto the rocky beach below.
The prowler had dragged itself a short distance away by the time Callan made it to the beach, leaving behind a long trail of blood. The prowler was resilient, and Callan¡¯s weapons left much to be desired. Still, she killed it as quickly as she could, and the creature eventually fell silent for the last time.
Callan fell to her knees, panting as the adrenaline began to wear off. She¡¯d succeeded, albeit barely. She sat and rested for another few minutes, then stood up to drag the creature back to her camp.
Halfway through her task, the sun flickered, too quickly to be a cloud.
She looked up.
Oh, it seemed that a large bird had passed overhead.
¡a very large bird.
¡°Oh hell,¡± Callan swore, dropping the prowler and bolting away towards her camp. The creature in the skies was big, too big, and her panicking mind couldn¡¯t think of anything she could do, nowhere to hide ¨C this blasted island was just so damn flat!
The burrows! She realized, running into and out of her camp without stopping. She could hide inside the burrows made by the prowlers. It wasn¡¯t ideal, but she¡¯d probably survive-
A loud thud interrupted Callan¡¯s thoughts, which was immediately followed by a series of similar sounds, each one closer than the last. She realized that she could not outrun the creature, and in a snap decision spun around to face her pursuer.
The geologist flung her arms apart, making herself look as big as possible while she screamed as loudly as she could.
In the next instant she was slammed into the ground by a golden blur.
Callan kicked and clawed, but the limb atop her chest was completely immovable. With her back against the ground she had an unobstructed view of the creature: a massive golden reptilian winged thing that could only be called a dragon, and she no longer had to fake her screams.
?Stop,? the dragon said, snorting its hot breath across her face. ?I¡¯m not going to hurt you.?
Callan abruptly stopped her struggles. She panted, feeling her heart beating in her throat as she listened to dragon¡¯s vocalizations.
The cadence of the vocalization, the variation¡it sounded like speech.
?I¡¯m going to let you up now,? the dragon said, still in that same slow and almost gentle tone. Slowly, the creature lifted its taloned hands off her chest, and Callan realized she hadn¡¯t actually been hurt at all.
The geologist pushed herself to her feet, eyeing the dragon warily. She supposed there wasn¡¯t much point to caution, considering that she could neither fight nor flee from it.
Meanwhile the golden dragon eyed her with bright blue eyes that sparkled with what Callan hoped was interest, and she noted that it ¨C or rather, they ¨C were large enough that they had to lower their neck to be eye-level with her. The dragon sat back on their haunches and nodded when she did not flee, apparently satisfied at having made their intentions clear.
?You really are a crafter, aren¡¯t you? Where did you come from?? the dragon growled, though Callan had the impression that the somewhat-guttural noises weren¡¯t intended to be threatening. If anything the dragon seemed...excited, judging by how its fanned tail gently lashed the air behind it. ?Hmm¡I suppose I should learn your name first¡assuming you have one?? The golden dragon paused, then tapped their chest with a wing-digit to say, ?¡®Qnaro¡¯?.
Callan stared. It seemed that the dragon was¡introducing themself? ¡°Kn¡arrow?¡± she quavered, pointing an uncertain finger at the dragon.
?Qnaro,? Qnaro corrected. Their tone was completely alien to Callan, but there was something about the pronunciation that reminded her of a parent correcting a child.
¡°Knaro,¡± Callan said, feeling that was quite close.
?Qnaro,? Qnaro said, a little more sharply this time.
¡°Qnaro?¡± Callan said, not hearing any difference.
?...perhaps you just need some practice,? Qnaro hummed, muttering incomprehensibly. ?You do look quite thin. Maybe a good meal will help.?
Callan watched as Qnaro abruptly turned around and walked away. She paused for a moment, uncertain if she should follow the creature.
?Follow,? Qnaro said, beckoning her over with a wave of a folded wing. The dragon waited, and only continued to walk when she obeyed their request.
Callan trailed behind the dragon as the creature led her back to her camp. The winged predator took a few seconds to examine each of her makeshift tools, taking particular interest in her currently extinguished campfire.
?How under the sky were you able to start a fire¡?? Qnaro asked, glancing between herself and the burnt wood.
¡°You can use it if you want,¡± Callan replied, guessing what the dragon¡¯s question was¡unless he wanted to see her start a fire?
?Questions for later, then,? Qnaro rumbled as they resumed their walk. The dragon continued until they arrived at the deceased prowler, which Qnaro easily dragged back to camp.
?To kill a creature larger than yourself¡quite the little hunter, aren¡¯t you?? Qnaro said as their eyes darted between Callan and her slain quarry. ¡°Qnaro,¡± Qnaro said, tapping their chest before gesturing expectantly at Callan.
¡°Jane,¡± Callan said, gesturing to herself with a thumb.
¡°Jay-nh,¡± Qnaro said slowly. ¡°Jane.¡±
¡°Yes!¡± Callan said, relieved that the dragon could pronounce Murian words, especially since her pronunciation was apparently lacking.
¡°Hrrrm,¡± Qnaro said, rumbling in thought. ¡°Jane. Nah Tak,¡± they said, pointing at the dead campfire.
Callan raised an eyebrow, but supposed it was better to do as the dragon asked. The dragon watched intently as she used her bow-drill to start a fire. She¡¯d first succeeded a few days after Edward had died, and now she¡¯d grown proficient enough to start a fire in several minutes ¨C assuming she had the required materials, at least.
The dragon stared with interest as she drilled the wood branch, which began to smoke. Callan picked up the smouldering grass and laid it upon a few dried branches, coaxing it to life with her gentle breaths.
Soon, a flame flickered to life.
?What an interesting method,? Qnaro murmured, adding more precious wood to the fire ¨C too much, in Callan¡¯s opinion, though she managed to bite her tongue. The dragon seemed to have a plan, and they soon began dressing the prowler, stripping it from its hide with what seemed to be practiced ease. Qnaro demonstrated surprising dexterity with their vaguely hand-like talons by wrapping the prowler in layers of coconut leaves. Lastly, they selected a few appropriately shaped rocks to place atop the fire, then stacked the wrapped prowler on top of the rocks.
?Done,? Qnaro said, licking their talons clean before turning to Callan. ?Now, let¡¯s teach you some words while we wait.?
¡°No. Say ¡®Qnaro¡¯.¡±
¡°Qnaro,¡± Callan sighed, having lost track of how many times she¡¯d tried to pronounce their name.
¡°No, no,¡± Qnaro said, shaking their head impatiently. The dragon had renewed their efforts for Callan to pronounce their name properly, to no avail.
Snorting in frustration, Qnaro stood up and left to stoke the dying embers. Callan noted that the dragon didn¡¯t seem to have any external features of anatomy that would usually be seen on a male, so Callan decided to mentally label the dragon a ¡®she¡¯ for the time being.
The two of them had taught each other much in the last hour, with the topic largely centering around personal information along with common nouns. Callan hadn¡¯t bothered breaching the topic of pronouns yet, as she felt it would only complicate things to introduce ambiguity and conjugation at this stage.
Perhaps the most shocking thing Callan had learned from Qnaro was that dragons could easily live for 300 years, with elders reaching 500 years of age. The golden dragon herself claimed to be 102 years old, and she seemed perfectly hale and hearty to Callan.
¡°I no can say you name,¡± Callan said, exasperated. ¡°I¡give you name?¡± she asked hopefully.
¡°Hrrm¡¡± Qnaro rumbled, mulling this over. ¡°Yes. You give me name.¡±
¡°I give you name¡Aurum?¡± Callan asked.
¡°What is Aurum meaning?¡±
¡°Aurum is name for gold,¡± Callan said, wriggling the gold wedding ring on her pinky finger. The dragon had taken great interest in her ring ¨C so much so that she was afraid she might try to take it. Fortunately Qnaro never did, though Callan did find the dragon¡¯s blue eyes lingering on the shiny item from time to time.
¡°...Gold is name for gold,¡± Qnaro said, visibly confused.
¡°Is old name,¡± Callan shrugged.
¡°I not¡gold gold color?¡± Qnaro grumbled, sounding frustrated as she fumbled with her limited Murian vocabulary.
¡°You gold color,¡± Callan said, confused. Qnaro¡¯s scales obviously didn¡¯t shine like polished gold, but she was inarguably gold-colored¡or at least a rich yellow.
Qnaro scratched her jaw, glancing between her forearm and Callan¡¯s ring. ¡°You give me name ¡®Aurum¡¯,¡± she finally nodded.
¡°Good,¡± Callan nodded.
¡°I give you name ¡®Laishaka¡¯,¡± Aurum continued.
¡°What?¡± Callan asked, confused. That wasn¡¯t part of the deal!
¡°I give thing. You give thing,¡± Aurum said. ?Is fair. Is trade.?
¡°...okay, you give me name,¡± Callan sighed, rolling her eyes. ¡°What ¡®Laishaka¡¯ mean?¡±
¡°Gat,¡± Aurum said, pantomiming a large object with her talons. ¡°Lai,¡± she said, bringing her foreclaws together to imply a much smaller object. Then she picked up one of Callan¡¯s spears, pointed it at her, then at the cooking prowler. ¡°Shaka,¡± the dragon finished, making a stabbing motion.
Little¡slayer? Or was it hunter? At least it didn¡¯t seem like an insult. ¡°Okay, you give me name ¡®Laishaka¡¯."
¡°Good,¡± Aurum nodded, then sniffed at the prowler. The embers had died down by now, and very little smoke emanated from the fire. ¡°Food is yes,¡± she said, moving the cooked prowler from the pit onto a slab of rock.
Callan reached for one of the prowler¡¯s six legs, but the limb was still too hot to touch. She watched as Aurum tore off a limb and held it without much issue, though she did blow on it before eating. Those scales of her must be rather effective insulators, the geologist noted, and she left to retrieve a coconut leaf.
Using the leaf as a glove she was able to tear the leg from the body with ease, as the cooking process had rendered the meat quite tender.
The geologist took an experimental nibble. The meat was unsalted, lean, and gamey, but soon she was tearing into the meat with gusto, heedless of the way the hot food scalded the inside of her mouth.
?Don¡¯t choke now,? Aurum said, in a tone which Callan interpreted as amusement.
¡°Stuff it,¡± Callan mumbled through a mouthful of meat, and snickered at Qnaro¡¯s bemused expression. Abruptly she paused and realized how long it had been since she¡¯d spoken with anyone ¨C sixty-five days, to be exact. She¡¯d been lonely, of course, but she hadn¡¯t quite realized how relieved she was to have someone to talk to¡even if that someone was an oversized flying apex predator.
Callan¡¯s appetite abruptly dissipated, and she suddenly felt very homesick.
?Are you full already?? Aurum asked, cocking her head. ?I suppose-?
¡°Where you fly from?¡± Callan asked urgently, having been struck with a sudden realization.
Aurum looked surprised by the interruption. ¡°What?¡± she asked, cocking her head.
¡°Where you fly from?¡± Callan repeated, making flapping motions with her arms before pointing up at the sky.
?Ah,? Aurum said, and licked a talon clean. ¡°You. Me,¡± she said, stabbing a hole in the ground, presumably marking their location. The geologist watched as she jabbed other holes into the dirt, and her excitement bubbled over as she began to draw a very familiar outline ¨C the island continent that was the destination of the Horizon.
¡°Yes! Oh, yes yes yes!¡± Callan cheered, ignoring the odd look Aurum gave her. She should have asked about this much earlier, but she¡¯s just been so distracted, and- ¡°You me here?¡± she asked, tapping the first marking before gesturing to the elongated island.
¡°You me here,¡± Aurum confirmed, then tapped the largest island again. ¡°This is ¡®Loahm¡¯.¡±
The geologist rubbed her chin. Aurum¡¯s kind were obviously intelligent, and such large creatures were surely native to Loahm, or were at least longtime inhabitants. ¡°Days from here to here?¡± Callan asked, knowing that Aurum wouldn¡¯t be able to understand all of the words, but she hoped her gestures make up for their lack of vocabulary.
¡°Four days, five days, six days?¡± Aurum said, shrugging her wings.
Callan frowned. If she had to guess, the duration of travel was likely quite dependent on the weather. The hurricane had surely delayed the Horizon, but she couldn¡¯t imagine the ship making landfall any later than day sixteen or seventeen. That meant the crew had been setting up camp for almost two months now; far more than enough time to meet any dragons.
¡°Humans,¡± Callan said, drawing a group of stick figures while Aurum watched intently. ¡°Humans go to Loahm,¡± she said, circling the figures and connecting them to the island continent.
?So there are more of you,? Aurum murmured. ¡°What is days you here?¡± she asked, sounding oddly urgent.
¡°I here, seventy-three days.¡±
?Oh, heavens,? Aurum hissed, shooting up in dismay. The sudden noise startled Callan, who warily eyed the dragon as she paced back and forth. ?Seventy-three days¡someone must have found them by now, but maybe¡? Aurum abruptly stopped, and whipped her head to face Callan. ¡°You go Loahm?¡±
¡°Yes!¡± Callan exclaimed, glad that the dragon was willing to help-
¡°I give thing, you give thing,¡± Aurum said, staring intently at Callan. ¡°I, you go Loahm. You give gold ring?¡±
Callan looked down at her ring, hesitating. ¡°Okay, I give ring,¡± she reluctantly agreed. It made no sense to refuse and die here, after all, and it was a small price to pay for her life.
¡°Good. Sun go down, sun go up, we go Loahm.¡±
¡°Tomorrow,¡± Callan nodded. ¡°Tomorrow we go to Loahm.¡±
Qnaro curled tightly around himself, trying and failing to go to sleep.
He was certain that these ¡®humans¡¯ were the crafters of legend ¨C those responsible for the creation of unexplainable artifacts that would occasionally be discovered washed up along a beach. He had so many burning questions, but not the words to ask them. It was almost torture to have the answer to so many mysteries sitting in front of him, but with no way to understand them.
Crafter artifacts were first discovered thousands of years ago, but the frequency of these discoveries had increased greatly in the last few centuries. Most of these items were glass containers of immaculate quality, while others were sturdy wooden containers of varying contents ¨C many of which were filled with alcohol of exceptional purity.
However, the biggest discovery came 192 years ago, when something big had washed up upon the shores of Loahm ¨C something he now knew was called a ¡®ship¡¯. This finding granted dragons the greatest insight into the nature of the crafters yet; not just because it was a treasure trove of tools and goods, but because the ship contained several skeletons which presumably belonged to deceased crafters.
No one knew what had happened to the crafters, but the quarrel over that particular finding was legendary, with several notable dragons dying before the Brewer clan won the majority of the spoils. Anyone was allowed to see the crafter corpses (for a small fee), and so the general description of their skeletons became common knowledge in the last two centuries. There was some argument over whether or not the crafters stood on two legs, so at least that was one mystery solved¡even if Laishaka did look like she could be blown over by a particularly strong gust of wind.
That wasn¡¯t the only strange thing about the crafter either. Most of Laishaka¡¯s body was covered in a material similar to that found on that fateful ship, but as far as he could tell her fur was solely isolated to certain parts of her head and two oddly mobile strips of fur above her eyes, meaning that the rest of it was simply exposed hide.
The crafter corpses did have an odd lack of scales, feathers, or fur save for the aforementioned portions, but no one had expected them to have smooth and delicate hide that looked like it might be split with a gentle prod of one¡¯s talons.
Qnaro glanced at the crafter ¨C or rather, the human, who slept in a very shallow cave a short distance away, using the slain digger-grazer as a blanket. She seemed rightfully wary of him, so he made sure to keep his distance by sleeping on a patch of long grass. It wasn¡¯t terribly comfortable, but he wasn¡¯t bothered, having slept in far worse places before.
The dragon sighed and set his head back down, knowing it would be some time until he could finally fall asleep.
Mission Day 87: A little birdie
¡°Up,¡± a deep, brassy voice said.
Callan stirred, feeling like she had the strangest dream. She¡¯d been talking to¡a dragon, of all things. The geologist groaned as she rolled over in a coarse fur blanket. She really was going crazy.
¡°Up,¡± said the same voice, with less patience this time.
Callan bolted awake, and came face to face with the golden muzzle of a dragon. Suddenly she was wide awake as she recalled yesterdays¡¯ memories.
¡°We fly now,¡± Aurum said.
¡°Wait,¡± Callan said, ¡°I need my things.¡±
Aurum snorted impatiently as Callan gathered her few belongings. She didn¡¯t really need much of her makeshift tools anymore, but she wrapped up what she could in the jacket she¡¯d been wearing. This task didn¡¯t take long, and soon the only thing left to do was to say goodbye.
¡°What this?¡± Aurum asked, peering at the wooden upsilon Callan had used as a gravemarker. It was really just a branch that she¡¯d broken into an upsilon, but it was the best that she could do with the tools she had.
¡°Dead human,¡± Callan sighed, committing the sight to memory. Perhaps she¡¯d come back one day to give Ed a proper site of rest. The geologist turned her head to glance at the dragon, who silently lowered her head before the grave. She realized now that she had a way home ¨C once she made it to Loahm, she just had to rendezvous with the rest of the crew, which surely wouldn¡¯t be difficult with the island being inhabited by intelligent dragons.
That is, assuming no one shot a dragon before realizing they were sapient. That possibility was more likely than Callan liked to think, but there was nothing she could do about that now. At the very least, her odds of survival had skyrocketed now that she had Aurum¡¯s aid.
¡°Let¡¯s go,¡± Callan said, straightening her back.
?Go,? Aurum agreed, and reached for Callan with her foreclaws.
¡°Whoa whoa whoa, what are you doing?¡± Callan asked, waving the talons away.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.
¡°We fly,¡± Aurum said plainly, and mimed a grabbing motion.
¡°I go here?¡± Callan asked, pointing at the base of the dragon¡¯s neck.
¡°No,¡± Aurum said, tossing her head with what felt like exasperation. ¡°I fly, you¡¡± she trailed off, then picked up a stray stone to toss into the air.
The rock flew straight up, slowed, then fell right back down, striking the beach with an unceremonious whump.
¡°Fall. Okay,¡± Callan admitted. ¡°So you want to¡¡± she trailed off, making a grabbing motion with both hands.
¡°Yes?¡± Aurum said, cocking her head as if to say ¡®do you have a better idea?¡¯
¡°...Okay,¡± Callan sighed, lifting her arms up. ¡°Let¡¯s try it.¡±
¡°Good?¡± Aurum asked, her brassy voice easily heard over the billowing wind.
¡°Good!¡± Callan called out, struggling to make herself heard with Aurum¡¯s talons wrapped securely around her body. The dragon had tried carrying Callan in several different ways, and the best method they¡¯d come up with involved Aurum holding Callan in her foreclaws, parallel with the rest of her body. This unfortunately meant that Callan had a sideways view of things, but it did shield her face from the worst of the wind, and it was better than having half her view blocked by the dragon¡¯s underbelly for the entire duration of their flights.
One problem they encountered was that the strong winds Callan experienced in flight would gradually become a dangerous chill. To fix this, Aurum had wrapped Callan with the pelt of the prowler; the makeshift blanket was a bit foul, but it was certainly better than freezing.
¡°Fly now?¡± Aurum asked.
¡°Fly now,¡± Callan agreed, and Aurum angled her wings to fly westward, in the direction of the rising sun.
¡°You good?¡± Aurum asked, setting Callan onto the ground.
¡°G-good,¡± the geologist stammered. She tried to stand, though her legs quivered like a newborn fawn¡¯s.
¡°I go hunt. You no go,¡± Aurum said, tapping the ground with a talon. she waited for Callan to nod, then broke into a sprint before leaping back into the skies.
She came back a few short minutes later, shortly after Callan had gathered a pile of kindling.
¡°No bow-drill,¡± Aurum said, dropping a massive tuna onto the ground.
¡°Why?¡± Callan asked, confused. The dragon had shown great interest in the tool yesterday, and she didn''t want to eat the fish raw, did he?
Aurum made an odd chuffing sound, then spat onto the kindling with a noise that sounded like an electrical snap.
Callan looked down, and stared as a glob of burning spit kindled the gathered branches.
¡°...what.¡±
¡°Fire,¡± the dragon said, shrugging casually.
¡°Wha¡but¡¡± Callan stammered. ¡°If you could do that then why¡¯d you have me use this in the first place?¡± she demanded, indignantly waving the bow-drill in the dragon¡¯s face.
¡°I want, see you make fire,¡± Aurum shrugged, evidently gleaning enough context to understand her question, if not her words.
Callan huffed, crossing her arms. She supposed it was understandable for Aurum to be curious about it, but it still miffed her to have wasted all that effort when the dragon could have started a fire in seconds all along.
¡°Bow-drill is¡good,¡± Aurum said, in what might have been a placating tone as she tore open the stomach of the fish.
¡°If you say so,¡± Callan grumbled. She glanced around, but couldn''t think of anything to do. ¡°I¡do thing?¡± she asked, doubtful that her assistance was required at all.
¡°Do thing?¡± Aurum asked, glancing up from the fish. ¡°What is thing?¡±
Callan scratched her head, uncertain of how to convey her question. ¡°You need wood?¡± she asked, gesturing to the small pile of yet-unburnt branches she''d gathered.
¡°No. Stay,¡± the dragon said, pointing downwards before returning to her task.
¡°Oh. Okay.¡± Callan glanced around for a moment, then awkwardly sat down to watch the dragon work.
It didn''t take long for Aurum to finish preparing the fish, and the two of them had soon gone back to expanding each other''s vocabulary while they waited for the fish to cook.
¡°What is-¡± Aurum asked, but was interrupted by a bird landing on her talons.
?Oh. Hello, Halfie,? the dragon rumbled, raising her foreclaw to eye the bird, which Callan noted to have a very odd coloration ¨C the bird looked as if it were two different birds stitched together, with a vibrant blue left half and a full brown right half.
¡°Are you talking to the bird?¡± Callan asked.
¡°Yes,¡± Aurum said candidly as the bird chirped at her. ?No Halfie, food isn''t ready yet.?
¡°Bird¡have name?¡± Callan asked uncertainly.
¡°Yes. What is¡word for one, make two?¡±
One make two? That almost sounded like a riddle.
¡°Two is same,¡± Aurum elaborated, when Callan could not provide an answer. The dragon pointed a talon at the line of color trailing down the bird, who surprisingly did not seem threatened at all.
¡°Half,¡± Callan answered, feeling a little silly. The answer was a little obvious in retrospect.
¡°Bird name is Half,¡± Aurum nodded. ¡°Half help me go you.¡±
Callan blinked at that sentence. It sounded like Aurum was saying that the bird had helped her find Callan, but that didn''t make much sense¡not unless the bird was a lot smarter than the ones Callan knew. ¡°How Half help you?¡± she asked.
¡°Half home is island,¡± Aurum said, gesturing a wing towards the island where Callan had made landfall. ¡°I see birds and Half here, no home. I see why.¡±
Ah. So her presence had displaced the birds. That made a lot more sense.
Suddenly several more birds landed on the ground near Aurum, these ones either mostly blue or brown, but none were colored like Half. ?Of course you all show up the moment food is ready,? Aurum said, chuffing with what sounded like amusement.
¡°Birds all have names?¡± Callan asked, surprised.
¡°Some,¡± Aurum shrugged. ¡°I teach later. Food ready.¡±
¡°What you do?¡± Aurum asked as they sat by the fire.
¡°Using tool,¡± Callan said, lifting her homemade sextant to the sky, lining it up with the north star.
¡°What tool do?¡± Aurum asked curiously.
¡°...it, uh¡¡± Callan scratched her head, unsure of how to answer. She had an idea, but it would take some time to explain the concepts she needed to convey.
It took some time, but she managed to shave off all the hairs of another coconut. Using this vaguely spherical object she carved her best approximation of Loahm into the shell and showed it to Aurum.
¡°This is Loahm.¡±
¡°Why¡small?¡± the dragon asked, sounding oddly offended.
¡°This is ¡®Earth¡¯,¡± Callan said, gesturing to the entire coconut. ¡°And this¡is Mainland,¡± she said, carving a rough outline of her homeland.
¡°Humans¡from Main-land?¡± Aurum asked, eyes wide.
¡°Yes,¡± Callan said, then set about carving the last continent. ¡°This is¡well, this land has no name.¡±
¡°Land is big!¡± Aurum exclaimed, rumbling in excitement. ¡°You do tool right?¡±
¡°Do tool right?¡± Callan asked, confused.
¡°Big land is big like this? Loahm is small like this?¡±
¡°Oh¡yes?¡± Callan said, eyeing the coconut uncertainly. She judged that it was at most off by a factor of a half, which wasn¡¯t terrible considering her less-than-ideal tools.
¡°I¡take?¡± Aurum asked. The pause between her words felt different this time, less a result of her small vocabulary and more like genuine uncertainty.
¡°Take,¡± Callan agreed, holding out the coconut.
The dragon carefully plucked the hard fruit from Callan¡¯s hands, and examined it with an almost reverent air. ¡°Wait,¡± Aurum said, narrowing her eyes. ¡°How you know this?¡±
¡°That¡¡± Callan scratched her head, frustrated at this rather expected roadblock. ¡°Is hard to explain.¡±
¡°Coconut is hard,¡± Aurum agreed in confusion. ¡°Coconut not my question.¡±
Callan groaned in frustration as she wracked her head for another way to explain things. ¡°I not know how to say this.¡±
¡°Hrrrm,¡± Aurum rumbled, sounding just as annoyed as she was. ¡°You say why you make tool?¡±
¡°Yes, I can,¡± Callan nodded, and gestured for her to give back the coconut-turned-globe. ¡°This is Earth, stars are above world,¡± she explained, pointing to the lights in the sky.
¡°Understand,¡± Aurum said, bobbing her head in agreement.
¡°Earth¡spins.¡±
¡°Earth no spin,¡± Aurum said, cocking her head. ¡°Stars move. Earth no move.¡±
¡°Oh boy,¡± Callan sighed. She was fairly certain it was impossible to prove that the Earth wasn¡¯t unmoving ¨C at least, certainly not with the tools on hand. ¡°Stars move,¡± Callan said, changing tact. ¡°But one star no move.¡±
¡°I know this,¡± Aurum nodded, pointing at the north star. ¡°Star is named ¡®Klad¡¯.¡±
¡°Good,¡± Callan nodded, and picked up a stick to draw a circle upon the ground. ¡°We are here,¡± she said, marking an arbitrary point on the circle. ¡°Klad is here,¡± she added, drawing a dot some distance away. ¡°I use this tool, see Klad, know where we are,¡± Callan said, demonstrating the usage of the device by allowing gravity to pull the pendulum at the center of the sextant to point straight downwards. The geologist squinted as she counted the notches in the shell. She was about¡thirty degrees north, meaning they¡¯d travelled about 200 kilometers south. ¡°We¡here,¡± she said, drawing an arc through the map in the sand, though she wasn¡¯t sure if Aurum would understand.
The dragon seemed baffled by this, but with some further demonstrations she finally understood that the two maps depicted the same thing from different perspectives.
¡°This¡no tell you where you are,¡± the dragon said, her spines flattened against her neck. ¡°Earth is not like this, Earth is like this,¡± she said, pointing at the coconut.
¡°Yes,¡± Callan agreed. ¡°This tool say I am¡somewhere here,¡± she said, tracing a line upon the makeshift globe to denote her latitude.
¡°This tool no good. Why you make?¡± Aurum asked skeptically.
¡°I know where other humans go,¡± Callan said, drawing another larger sketch of Loahm upon the ground. ¡°Other humans go¡here,¡± she said, marking out the crew¡¯s intended destination. ¡°I use this tool, and-¡±
¡°You do land, know where see crew!¡± Aurum concluded, her spines standing up in excitement.
¡°Yes!¡± Callan smiled. ¡°Tool good?¡±
¡°Tool very good!¡± Aurum agreed, bobbing her head enthusiastically.
Mission Day 88: Odos & Bath
Callan whipped her head around, astonished by the speed with which the creatures had surrounded her.
¡°Guaa!¡± one particularly curious bird squawked, waving its stubby wings in what seemed to be a cheerful manner.
The geologist scratched her head in bemusement. These flightless birds appeared to be the main inhabitant of this island, and the creatures seemed to lack any sort of survival instincts; the admittedly adorable creatures showed no hesitation in waddling up to Callan, even with Aurum standing next to her.
Callan slowly picked up a bird, which seemed to have no issue with being held. ¡°Huh,¡± she said.
¡°Name is odo bird,¡± Aurum said helpfully.
¡°Well, you no need hunt today,¡± Callan said, and held the bird down with one hand while she picked up a rock-
¡°No!¡± Aurum hissed, startling Callan as the dragon grabbed her forearm. ¡°What you doing?¡± she growled.
¡°E¡eat?¡± Callan said weakly.
¡°No eat!¡± Aurum ordered, and the dragon continued to glare at Callan until the geologist slowly set the rock down.
¡°Why no eat?¡± Callan asked, confused. The only explanation she could think of was that the birds were poisonous, but that didn¡¯t quite explain the dragon¡¯s vehemence.
¡°Look!¡± Aurum said, pointing a talon at the bird, who cocked its little head with the most gormless expression Callan had ever seen. ¡°Bird can not fight. Is not good to hunt,¡± the dragon snorted, as if this were obvious.
¡°...Okay, no eat,¡± Callan said, dropping the bird back upon the ground, causing it to squak indignantly.
¡°Good,¡± Aurum nodded. ¡°I hunt fish. I will be back soon.¡± With that the dragon took off into the sky, leaving Callan alone with a horde of waddling birds.
¡°Done,¡± Aurum said as she buried the leaf-wrapped fish in a heap of embers.
¡°So, what you want learn today?¡± Callan asked, sitting up from her stretches.
¡°No learn,¡± Aurum said, tossing her head. ¡°Follow me, bring your things,¡± she said, and padded off into the forest.
¡°Huh? Where are we going?¡± Callan asked, tossing on her jacket to jog after Aurum.
¡°Salt make scales itch,¡± Aurum rumbled, scratching her neck with a wing-thumb as she walked. ¡°Freshwater make scales clean,¡± she explained, brushing away some dense foliage with a sweep of a foreclaw.
¡°Oh,¡± Callan breathed, stunned by the sight of an idyllic, crystal clear pond ¨C the kind usually only seen in paintings.
¡°You smell bad,¡± Aurum said candidly, interrupting her reverie. ¡°Use freshwater, make you smell not bad.¡±
¡°Thanks, I guess,¡± Callan said drily, and turned to shield her face when Aurum dove into the water. The dragon stuck her head underwater for a few moments, then popped back up to report that it was safe.
Callan pursed her lips; she honestly couldn¡¯t tell if the dragon was messing with her or not, but she supposed she needed to wash everything anyway, so she emptied her pockets and waded into the pond, clothes and all. The geologist shivered a little, but the water was only a little cool, and any slight discomfort she felt was vastly outweighed by the prospect of being somewhat clean again. After all, she¡¯d barely had enough freshwater to drink on the first island, which meant she hadn¡¯t been able to afford wasting any of it on luxuries like basic hygiene.
Callan waded over to a second smaller waterfall, tugging off her clothing to better wash herself and her garments. It felt so much better to finally be clean again, and the sight of grime falling off her body was quite immensely satisfying.
Once that was done she sat beneath the waterfall, allowing the stream of falling water to loosen her muscles. She hadn¡¯t outright complained to Aurum about it, but being carried around for eight-to-twelve hours at a time was terribly uncomfortable. Callan noted some sturdy-looking vines on the trees around them ¨C maybe they could rig something up to let her fly on Aurum¡¯s back, though she wasn¡¯t sure if the dragon would take offense to that or not.
Aurum had done all the hunting and cooking for the both of them in addition to flying her around, which left Callan with the unpleasant feeling of being literal dead weight. It was a rather stark contrast to her living conditions a mere four days ago, when the geologist had to do everything herself.
She¡¯d volunteered to help with smaller chores, of course, such as gathering firewood, but the dragon didn¡¯t seem to want her taking any unnecessary risks. Perhaps she was afraid of her dying like Edward, which would admittedly leave the dragon in a rather awkward position with respect to the other humans.
Callan sat and relaxed as she pondered the future, but soon realized that Aurum¡¯s side of the pond had gone oddly silent, and a turn of the head revealed the dragon to be staring intently at her.
Aurum was so inhuman that Callan hadn¡¯t really thought much of bathing in front of her, especially when the dragon didn¡¯t wear anything herself. Still, the geologist hadn¡¯t expected Aurum to eye her with such scrutiny, and it was still uncomfortable to be leered at, even if she wasn¡¯t a man in any sense of the word.
¡°What?¡± she asked, more exasperated than bothered. If she had to guess, Aurum was probably just curious; the dragon could be a bit blunt and rude at times, but she had never hurt her despite her great strength.
¡°I curious,¡± Aurum shrugged. ¡°You not not have clothes before.¡±
¡°Is bad to not have clothes. And is bad to see human not have clothes,¡± Callan said pointedly, keeping her back turned.
¡°Why?¡± Aurum asked incredulously.
¡°...human thing,¡± Callan sighed. ¡°Please do not look.¡±
¡°Humans weird,¡± Aurum grumbled. There was a splash, and the dragon swam past Callan to step out of the pond. ¡°Eat food soon. Do not go away. Island is dangerous.¡±
Callan sank lower under water as the dragon shook herself off. She waited another minute for the dragon to leave, then stepped out of the pond to wring her clothes before putting them back on. It wasn¡¯t pleasant to wear the still-damp clothes, but it was better than nothing. In the end the bath had left her skin feeling a little raw, and she smelled faintly of ash, but at least she didn¡¯t have a layer of grime coating her body now.
¡°Take,¡± Aurum said when she returned to their camp, the dragon offering her a haunch of meat wrapped on a palm leaf.
¡°Thank you,¡± Callan said, accepting the food. It had cooled to tolerable levels, and she chewed through the leg with enthusiasm, glad that Aurum had moved on from the awkward topic.
¡°Why you have two small dark things on chest?¡±
Or not.
¡°Things on chest make milk to feed child. Milk is white liquid,¡± Callan sighed, approximating as best as she could with her limited vocabulary.
¡°Understand,¡± Aurum nodded unexpectedly. ¡°Some animal make milk. Like this animal,¡± she said, gesturing to the half-eaten torso.
¡°Good,¡± Callan nodded. She was glad that the dragon was familiar with what might have been an awkward concept, and while they were on the subject she decided to scratch a diagram into the dirt. ¡°Male, female,¡± she said, tapping each of the two human figures. ¡°Human females can make milk and make child.¡± This time she drew a line from the woman, connecting it to a tiny stick figure.
¡°Understand. You are female,¡± Qnaro nodded. ¡°I am male.¡±
Callan blinked.
¡°What.¡±
¡°Why you surprise?¡± Qnaro asked, her-his eyes blinking curiously.
¡°Oh um¡¡± Callan mumbled, suddenly feeling a belated sense of awkwardness at having shared a bath with the male dragon. ¡°I wrong, I think you female.¡±
Aurum snorted, startling Callan, but then a deep croaking noise emanated from the dragon which she soon recognized as laughter. ¡°Female dragons bigger than male,¡± Aurum said, gesturing a small distance with a foreclaw. ¡°Female dragons have round horns too,¡± he added, tracing a curling shape through the air.
¡°I see,¡± Callan said, relieved not to have given offense.
Indeed, the dragon seems more concerned with the figures etched into the dirt. ¡°Human female smaller than male? Strange¡why you think I female?¡± The dragon asked, finishing his sentence with a curious tilt of his head.
¡°Er¡well, you don¡¯t have¡¡± Callan stammered, her face flushing with embarrassment while Aurum looked on with an expectant expression. ¡°I mean, some males have¡things on outside of body¡¡± she trailed off, hoping Aurum would understand her meaning.
¡°Understand. Is very weird. Strange too.¡±
¡°...A little, yes,¡± Callan admitted.
¡°Do human males have hair between legs too?¡± Aurum asked, using the same neutral tone with which he''d asked every other question.
Callan groaned. ¡°Yes,¡± she answered, rubbing her forehead in exasperation.
¡°Why?¡±
¡°I don¡¯t know!¡± Callan blurted out indignantly. ¡°Why you have¡have¡¡± she floundered. Every part of the dragon¡¯s body seemed to serve some purpose. ¡°Why you have horns?¡± she finally managed. The almost-black protuberances didn¡¯t seem very useful, especially compared to other weapons like talons and the ability to spit fire.
¡°Horns look good,¡± Aurum said, sounding oddly wounded.
¡°Oh¡er¡sorry?¡±
¡°Hrmm,¡± Aurum rumbled, and resumed eating in a rather subdued manner. ¡°Is¡bad to talk about human body?¡± he asked after a moment.
¡°For humans, yes,¡± Callan said slowly. ¡°Is¡different with not-humans. You did not want to say bad things to me. Is okay.¡±
¡°...Good,¡± Aurum nodded, and finished the rest of his meal at a normal pace.
Mission Day 89: Riding & Predators
¡°Is this good?¡± Aurum asked, craning his neck back to check on Callan.
¡°I think yes!¡± Callan called back, holding tightly onto the dragon''s neck despite the vines keeping her in place.
She''d thrown herself against the makeshift ropes while they were on the ground, of course, and they''d felt very secure, but that didn''t mean she wanted to test the dubious strength of the restraints while a hundred meters up in the air.
¡°I fly to next island now?¡±
¡°Yes!¡± Callan replied, her heart hammering with excitement. Sitting at the base of Aurum¡¯s neck was an immense improvement over being carried around in a bundle of furs, and it was far more comfortable¡save for the wind blowing more directly into her face, but she could always shield her face with the prowler¡¯s pelt, and the sight of the open sky was worth a little discomfort.
Aurum nodded in response to her confirmation, adjusted his wings, and ascended to the skies.
¡°What is it?¡± Callan asked, later that night.
The two of them were about to go to sleep when Callan noticed Aurum staring intently at the mouth of the cave.
¡°Predators,¡± Aurum said, gesturing out the cave with a nod of his head. ¡°Can you see? Behind the trees.¡±
¡°Trees?¡± Callan hissed under her breath. The new moon meant that the night sky was lit only by starlight, and the geologist could barely see the grass in front of the cave, let alone the trees Aurum mentioned.
¡°You can not see trees?¡± Aurum asked, surprised.
¡°No!¡± she said. ¡°Do we need to leave?¡±
¡°No. Predators will not hunt us,¡± Aurum rumbled. ¡°...predators will not hunt me, so you is safe,¡± he clarified, seeing her doubtful expression.
¡°Oh. That''s¡good,¡± Callan said, not entirely comforted by the dragon¡¯s reassurance.
¡°Lie down,¡± Aurum said, and the dragon moved to curl around her in a protective circle, and draped his wing over her body.
¡°Oh¡thank you?¡± Callan said uncertainly.
Aurum gave a wordless rumble in response, a noise that the geologist could feel as much as she could hear. Callan blinked a few times, feeling a little awkward at the proximity, but soon the warmth of the dragon¡¯s body caused her eyelids to grow heavy, and it wasn¡¯t long before she slipped off to sleep.
Qnaro warily eyed the pygmy raptors as they moved through the forest. The creatures were quite small, and knew better than to cross paths with a dragon like himself, but he still made sure to keep an eye on the cunning predators as they stalked through the forest like drifting smoke.
The dragon stood guard even after the last pygmy raptor slipped off into the night. It was only when he was certain that they¡¯d all left did he set his head down. Laishaka¡¯s breathing had slowed by now, in that way that probably meant she¡¯d fallen asleep.
Qnaro gave a deep sigh; he had spent the vast majority of most of his adult life wandering alone, and he never had reason to protect anyone before. It was a strange feeling, and he wondered if that was what it was like to be responsible for a hatchling. He followed this trail of thought for a little while, and Qnaro realized how little he knew about Laishaka as a person. Did she have a child of her own? She was almost certainly old enough to, though he knew next to nothing about human nature or their culture.
Drifting off to sleep, Qnaro resolved to get to know the human better tomorrow.
Mission Day 90: Arrival
¡°Is that Loahm?¡± Callan asked, calling out over the wind.
¡°Yes,¡± Aurum rumbled, lowering his neck to give Callan a better view.
Callan¡¯s grip on the vines tightened as she took in the view: a lush forest covered the land, stretching out from the shoreline to the base of the snow-capped mountains, all plastered in a vibrant orange hue by the setting sun. It wasn¡¯t anything terribly alien, but knowing it was an entirely new continent made all the difference in the world.
¡°Stay with me,¡± Aurum rumbled as they approached the island-continent. ¡°Loahm has very dangerous predators.¡±
¡°...dangerous for you?¡± Callan asked, suddenly feeling very concerned. She couldn''t imagine Aurum being anything other than an apex predator, but if he wasn''t¡
¡°For me?¡± Aurum asked, snorting in amusement. ¡°No. Dangerous for you.¡±
¡°Good,¡± Callan said, sighing in relief.
¡°...Good?¡± Aurum asked in confusion.
¡°Predators dangerous to you would be very very dangerous,¡± Callan explained.
Aurum did not immediately respond, but rumbled in thought long enough to worry Callan. ¡°Mainland have big predators?¡± he finally asked.
¡°Oh, no predators dangerous to you,¡± Callan said, relieved to reassure his worries.
¡°Good,¡± Aurum said, nodding back towards her before he began to make his descent.
The dragon tilted his wings to fall through the air, and Callan abruptly realized that she''d inadvertently told a lie.
If there was one predator that could threaten all of dragonkind, then it would certainly be humanity.
¡°What are you looking for?¡± Callan asked as Aurum rooted around in the cave.
¡°This,¡± Aurum said, shifting one last rock away to expose a cavity, from which he plucked out¡a glass bottle?
¡°...where did you get that?¡± Callan breathed, her eyes squarely fixed on the very manmade object in Aurum¡¯s foreclaws.
¡°I find on small island, fifty-three years ago,¡± Aurum said as Callan accepted the ancient-looking bottle. It was empty on the inside, save for a rolled up piece of parchment.
Judging by the lack of a cork Aurum had likely examined the artifact already, and Callan merely had to flip the bottle over to extract its contents. The paper was thick and seemed to have been of good quality, but age had taken its toll on the letter which now cracked with age. Despite this, the letter was in good enough condition for Callan to unroll it, revealing the letters written on its surface.
¡°What is markings?¡± Aurum asked. ¡°Do you understand this?¡±
¡°Yes, these are words,¡± Callan said, her brows knitting together as she read the text. ¡°Wait, I¡see what words are here.¡±
Dearest Sherry,
I have thought of nothing but you for these past few days, ev¡¯r since the fire killed half my crew and ruined all our stores of rations. Now I stare death in the face, and I say with certainty that I have made the gravest mistake of my life in leaving you and our family.
On the subject of family, I am sure my brother would see that you and our children will want for nothing. Do thank him for me, and tell him I am sorry for not heeding his advice as well ¨C truly, I did little to deserve a brother such as him.
My deepest apologies if this letter is overshort, I have written eight such letters alone today in hopes that one would reach you. I would give the world to spend the rest of my life with you, but as this is not to be, I hope you will forgive my selfishness in requesting one final favor:
Please my dear, love again, and live a long and happy life.
Forever yours in life and in death,
Leonel Wheeler
895/09/03
¡°These are words? What do words say?¡± Aurum asked impatiently. ¡°Do you understand this?¡±
¡°Wait¡±, Callan murmured absently as she read the fragile final message. Leonel Wheeler¡she recalled the name as the captain of a rather large expedition, which had never returned.
It was far before her time, and she didn''t recall hearing anything regarding the fate of the man''s family.
¡°Human that make this die on ship,¡± Callan said, after a moment. ¡°He make words for person he make child with. Person make child with is¡mate,¡± the geologist explained.
¡°What he say? When he make this?¡± Aurum asked insistently.
¡°This make 57 years ago...other things is hard to explain,¡± Callan sighed. ¡°He die soon after making this, but he want to be home with his mate for¡many many years.¡±
¡°...oh,¡± Aurum said, flattening his spines. ¡°Mate is word for person you have child with,¡± the dragons said slowly. ¡°What is word for person you do not leave?¡±
¡°Do not leave?¡± Callan echoed, not understanding Aurum¡¯s meaning.
¡°Person you do not leave, person you do all things with,¡± Aurum elaborated. ¡°In my language this word is like ¡®other-half¡¯.¡±
¡°Is that¡different from mate?¡± Callan asked, confused by the odd description.
¡°Is very different,¡± Aurum said, blinking with an incredulous air. ¡°Mate and other-half is same for humans?¡±
¡°Yes. Human mates do things¡together,¡± Callan said, shifting uncomfortably.
¡°...you have mate on ship?¡± Aurum asked tentatively.
¡°No, he is¡home, on the mainland.¡±
¡°Why mate on Mainland? You say human mates do things together.¡±
¡°I know,¡± Callan sighed. ¡°It is¡complicated,¡± she said, glancing pointedly at Aurum.
¡°Why complicated?¡± Aurum asked, oblivious to the subtlety of human body language. ¡°...You have childs with mate?¡±
¡°...No,¡± Callan sighed, fiddling with her wedding band. ¡°We¡try, but no child. Do you have child?¡±
¡°No,¡± Aurum shrugged. ¡°I not want child, and no one want child with me.¡± The dragon tilted his head in realization. ¡°...Mate give you ring?¡± he asked, blinking as he drew his head back in realization. ¡°What happen?¡±
¡°Okay, fine, I explain,¡± Callan sighed. ¡°Mate name is Gordon¡We plan to go on ship together, but Gordon hurt, and he stay home.¡± The geologist pursed her lips as she recalled their argument. ¡°Gordon want me to stay with him, but I want to come here.¡±
¡°I understand,¡± Aurum nodded.
¡°You do?¡± Callan asked, raising skeptical eyebrow.
¡°I¡very small. Not good at many things,¡± Aurum admitted, very quietly for a creature of his size. ¡°But I always want explore very much. I want see new things others not see, more than all other things. You think same, yes?¡±
¡°...I think almost the same,¡± Callan said, after a moment''s thought. ¡°See things is good, but¡I want do things others not do.¡±
¡°Yes, I think this too!¡± Aurum said, the dragon¡¯s head bobbing heartily in agreement.
Callan smiled faintly at this, and slowly slid off her ring. ¡°Here,¡± she said, holding the ring out to Aurum. ¡°We agreed on a trade, right?¡±
Aurum stared at the ring in her palm, a faint glimmer of uncertainty in his eyes. ¡°...keep ring,¡± he said, nosing her hand away. ¡°Too small. I can not take.¡± The dragon wriggled his large foreclaws for emphasis.
¡°Oh,¡± Callan said, surprised at his refusal of the reward. ¡°But¡you said trade important.¡±
¡°Yes¡¡± Aurum rumbled, his eyes narrowing in thought. ¡°Hmm¡we make new trade,¡± the dragon proposed, ¡°I help you find humans, you help me go to Mainland.¡±
¡°I¡cannot make others do what I want,¡± Callan said cautiously. ¡°But I think other humans want to bring dragons to Mainland. I tell them I want you to go with us, okay?¡±
Aurum paused, and rumbled in thought as he considered this. ¡°Okay,¡± he finally nodded, and lowered himself so that she could climb up to his back. ¡°We go find humans.¡±
Qnaro scanned the land and seas as thoroughly as he could, but he still could not quite help wondering how odd it was for humans to treat mates and partners as the same thing. Did they simply not have children until they found someone that they loved? The thought seemed absurd ¨C how were they able to support their population if they were so picky? Not to mention that Callan seemed to have difficulty having children even with her mate or partner or whatever he was.
Perhaps each human had many eggs? But¡no, humans fed their children with those milk-nubs of theirs, which implied that they were like those animals whose infants popped out of the mother without need of any shell at all. It was possible that they had many children at a time, but another explanation was that they simply had many children on separate occasions with the same partner.
Qnaro was curious about exactly how different humans treated partnerships; maybe it wasn¡¯t as rare or treasured as it was among dragons, but Callan still seemed quite affected by the separation from her partner, and in the end he could not see it being very dissimilar, no matter their differences.
The dragon shook his head, clearing his mind to focus on the search. Partners were meant to be together, but the two humans could only be reunited if he actually found the ship.
Mission Day 91: Search
The two of them had made it to Loahm late last night, so they were forced to begin their search in the morning.
Their current latitude was 26¡ãN, a few degrees northward of the Horizon¡¯s destination. While counterintuitive, this approach narrowed down their field of search to one direction instead of two, meaning that they¡¯d simply have to fly south to guarantee that they¡¯d fly over their intended destination.
¡°Look at ocean and rivers too,¡± Callan reminded Aurum as they flew southward. ¡°Look for anything strange. Other humans maybe hide ship.¡±
¡°I remember,¡± Aurum rumbled, and slowly panned his head back and forth as he scanned his surroundings. ¡°We find humans today?¡± he asked.
¡°Maybe,¡± Callan said, with less certainty than she would have liked. The Horizon should have made landfall nearly two months ago, and any number of things could have happened in that span of time, most of which were rather unpleasant to think about.
¡°We look, talk later,¡± Aurum said, glancing back at Callan before straightening his neck.
¡°...Yes,¡± Callan managed, her grip on the vines tightening.
¡°We fly long time.¡±
¡°I know,¡± Callan sighed. ¡°Maybe just a little longer-¡±
¡°Sun is setting,¡± Aurum said, lightly tossing his head. ¡°I know a cave. We go eat and sleep there.¡±
¡°...okay,¡± Callan quietly murmured, to no one in particular ¨C Aurum had already changed course, flying over Loahm to seek shelter for the night.
¡°You know where other humans are?¡± Aurum asked he landed, crouching to let Callan dismount.
¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± Callan sighed. ¡°We look more tomorrow.¡±
¡°...yes, we do that,¡± Aurum said after a moment¡¯s consideration. ¡°If no find ship, I talk to other dragons tomorrow tomorrow. Find if others know humans.¡±
¡°Good,¡± Callan nodded, trying to reassure herself that this was only to be expected. Rationally speaking, it would have been rather strange if the Horizon had stayed in one place for so long. That certainly explained the ship¡¯s absence, but it did nothing to help her find the ship now.
Mission Day 93: Discovery
They spent another day searching the land, but there was no trace of the Horizon to be found. To be accurate, it was Aurum who was doing the searching ¨C the only thing Callan could do on his back was to slow him down, so she¡¯d been left on a small island for her safety.
They''d done the same on the second day, except Aurum would seek out various other dragons to see if anyone had heard anything.
Callan could do nothing but wait for Aurum¡¯s return, so the geologist spent her time examining the rocks and minerals that could be found on this new island. She was surprised to find an abundance of copper ore strewn about the surface ¨C flecks of the stuff could be found mixed in with another white crystal, which was certainly calcite judging by the color and cleavage of the mineral.
Geologically speaking, the island Aurum had saved her from was quite boring. That landmass didn''t have much going for it aside from having an abundance of flint, and the two days passed relatively quickly for the geologist as she examined her surroundings.
¡°I talk to many dragons. They do not know weird things,¡± Aurum said as he returned at the end of the second day.
¡°Damnit,¡± Callan swore, and tried not to be disappointed. Any hopes she had were dashed when yesterday''s search and inquiry turned up nothing.
¡°I can not ask others ¡®do you know what humans are¡¯,¡± Aurum snorted, flattening his spines, ¡°but they say and do normal things.¡±
¡°But that doesn¡¯t make any sense, the ship has to be around here somewhere, right?¡± Callan muttered as she paced back and forth. Did they go home after all? ¡°How many dragons are there on Loahm?¡± she asked, turning to Aurum.
¡°What is ten hundreds?¡±
¡°Thousand.¡±
¡°What is ten thousand?¡±
¡°That¡¯s just ten thousand.¡±
¡°There are ten thousand dragons,¡± Aurum answered.
¡°Really?¡± Callan tilted her head. ¡°How do you know?¡±
Aurum shrugged his wings. ¡°We count.¡±
Callan didn¡¯t know what to say to that, so she decided to trust Aurum¡¯s figure for now. The satellite imagery imagery that Longshot 12 obtained wasn¡¯t the clearest of photos, but it was enough for analysts to estimate Loahm to have a surface area of around 1 million square kilometers. With a population of ten thousand dragons, that meant the average population density was 1 dragon per 100 square kilometers.
Aurum had said that most dragons lived in groups of less than 5, while some like him lived alone. It wasn¡¯t impossible for the crew of the Horizon to have landed, done some exploring, and then left without any dragons noticing (especially if the island was home to dangerous predators as Aurum claimed) but if that were the case then¡what was she supposed to do? Introduce dragons to humanity all by herself?
¡°Maybe other humans talk with other dragons, and they hide,¡± Aurum suggested.
¡°What?¡± Callan asked. She hadn¡¯t considered that question at all. ¡°Why would they hide?¡±
¡°If dragons tell other dragons, other dragons will fly to see humans,¡± Aurum explained. ¡°Many thousand dragons in one location for long time is bad. No food.¡±
¡°But why do this?¡± Callan protested. ¡°They can not hide for very long time.¡±
¡°There is¡¡± Aurum paused, scratching his jaw in thought. ¡°Dragons fly to do things together on longest day of year.¡±
¡°Solstice,¡± Callan said. ¡°The longest day of the year is the solstice.¡±
¡°Solstice is when many dragons will be in one place,¡± Aurum nodded. ¡°Dragons and humans maybe talk to other dragons at solstice.¡±
¡°That¡¯s¡possible,¡± Callan admitted. It made sense to address everyone in one place, logistically speaking. ¡°But how do we find other humans now?¡±
¡°I do not know,¡± Aurum said, flattening his spines, and the two of them sat in silence as they considered their options.
Aurum would need to introduce Callan to other dragons.
They had no way of knowing which dragons were hypothetical allies to the crew of the Horizon, and they had no way of confirming their knowledge and allegiance without revealing Callan¡¯s own existence, which would cause news of the humans to break out across the land.
¡unless Callan sought to turn these dragons into allies of her own. That would ensure all possible outcomes to be safe¡assuming the dragons they contacted were trustworthy.
¡°Do you know other dragons that you¡like?¡± Callan asked.
¡°Like?¡± Aurum echoed, tilting his head in confusion.
¡°Dragons that you know will tell and do true things. Dragons that will help humans. Word is allies,¡± Callan elaborated.
¡°I know some,¡± Aurum said, tilting his head in a rather uncertain manner. ¡°Why?¡±
¡°Maybe other humans make allies with other dragons, we do not know, but we can make allies for solstice too.¡±
¡°But¡what if humans gone?¡±
¡°They will be back,¡± Callan said confidently, or as confidently as she could manage. Surely they would not abandon everything, not when so many resources had been invested into the expedition.
¡°...Okay, we go make allies,¡± Aurum nodded, then suddenly jolted upwards. Callan followed his line of sight, and saw a dragon approaching from Loahm. ¡°Go hide!¡± the dragon hissed.
¡°Where?!¡± Callan demanded, gesturing wildly at their surroundings.
?Shit¡!? Aurum spat, swearing in his native tongue. ¡°He follow me here. Climb on!¡±
Callan wrung her hands as Aurum flung on the vine harness, one that they¡¯d made this morning to replace the old one which had begun to stiffen and crack with old age. Once he was done Callan climbed onto his back, and the two of them waited for the unknown dragon to make their final approach.
¡°I maybe fly away,¡± Aurum muttered under his breath. ¡°Be ready.¡±
¡°Understand,¡± Callan whispered back, her eyes darting to the vine harness.
?Is that a searing crafter? Where in the skies did you find them!?? A leaf-green dragon demanded as he landed a short distance away. Callan apprehensively noted that this newcomer was larger than Aurum, and by a fair margin too.
?My name is Qnaro,? Aurum rumbled. ?I found her on an island far east of here.?
?On an island?? The dragon echoed dumbly. ?Ah. Apologies. My name is Xhorhw. What were they doing on that island? Were there any others of their kind?? the green dragon asked, his eyes flicking up to eye Callan.
Aurum paused, hesitating for a split second. ?I don''t know where she came from, but I''m going to tell everyone about her at the plateau, during the solstice.?
?Oh, how many people have you told?? Xhorhw asked, raising his head slightly.
?None. I just came back from the islands,? Aurum said, gesturing eastward with a toss of his head. ?I visited a few others to see if anyone else had found any other crafters, but it seems that no one else has.?
?I see,? Xhorhw murmured before his eyes widened. ?Wait, can you speak with the crafter??
?A little,? Aurum admitted. ?Their language is¡messy, but I can usually get my point across with what I know.?
?Fascinating,? Xhorhw said, his eyes sparkling with an opportunistic glint. ?So, what you¡¯re saying is that you need a messenger.?
?The crafter¡¯s name is ¡®Jane Callan¡¯,? Aurum said. ?I will be taking her to see others, but I promise I will be at the plateau come the day of the Solstice. You are free to spread the word, if you so wish.?
Callan watched in silence as the dragons continued to converse. She could recognize a word here or there, but most of it flew over her head at speeds too great for her to catch.
¡°Laishaka,¡± Aurum said after several minutes of conversation, ¡°This dragon name is Xhorhw. He will tell others where we will be at solstice. He want proof for others. You have thing to give him?¡±
¡°I¡think I do,¡± Callan said, retrieving her wallet from her jacket. In it was some money along with a few laminated photos ¨C one of which being a group photo of the crew with the Horizon in the background. The geologist hesitated for a moment, then pulled out a bill. ¡°Is this good?¡± she asked, handing Aurum a banknote which featured the likeness of the Mainland¡¯s first prime minister.
?This should do nicely,? Xhorhw said, the green dragon nodding excitedly. ?Oh, and I assume she¡¯ll put in a good word for me if any other humans arrive??
?Of course,? Aurum said, translating for Callan.
?Excellent. Well, I best be off!?
With that the newcomer flew off as quickly as he¡¯d arrived, leaving the two of them alone on the island.
Aurum let out an relieved huff of air, and turned back to Callan. ¡°I no tell him where you from, and I no tell him I look for human ship,¡± the dragon confessed. ¡°If other humans here, they no want other dragons to know about them. Xhorhw will tell many others about us, and other humans will know where we will be.¡±
¡°Good thinking,¡± Callan said, patting his neck gratefully. After a moment she realized she was treating him like a horse, and stopped.
Thankfully Aurum didn¡¯t seem to notice, or at least he didn¡¯t mind the gesture. ¡°We go now, see dragon I trust most.¡±
¡°Wait, we eat first,¡± Callan said, clutching the bottled message in her jacket pocket. ¡°I need to make words for other humans to find.¡±
¡°I know place, other dragons with humans will find,¡± Aurum nodded before sitting himself down to watch her work.
Callan took some time to carefully leave a message on the backside of Wheeler¡¯s letter, using a piece of charcoal as a writing implement. She felt bad about vandalizing a historical artifact, but the paper was far and above the best thing to write on.
The geologist knew this message might never be found, but there was also a chance that this would be her last chance to leave behind anything for her family. Writing with the makeshift tool was difficult, but putting her feelings down to paper was a far greater challenge.
Mission day 93(?)
Surprise, I''m alive!
I write this letter for the crew of the Horizon (you), who will not know of my survival. I suppose I should begin with how I survived. Not much room, so I¡¯ll keep things short.
Edward and I were making emergency repairs on Day 11 when the storm suddenly intensified. We were washed into the ocean, where a whale sucked us into her glowing mouth. She carried us for a long time before spitting us out near a small island.
Edward died a few days afterwards. I survived alone for the next 73 days, until a goddamned dragon showed up ¨C and then he started talking to me! But I¡¯m sure that¡¯s no surprise, seeing as you needed the help of a dragon to find this message in the first place.
Aurum and I were just discovered by another dragon, and he had to promise to bring me to some solstice event while the stranger left to spread the word of ¡®my¡¯ discovery. In the next week, Aurum and I will be reaching out to dragons who he believes will want to be our allies. We''ll be gathering as many as we can before the summer solstice event in nine days.
Gods, I hope
Callan pursed her lips, then crossed that line out.
Gods, I hope
To whoever finds this, do me a favor and send a few messages for me.
Dad ¨C thanks for everything that you taught me. I don''t think I would''ve survived until now if you hadn''t taught me all that you did.
Gordon ¨C regardless of what happened, the choice to go on this expedition was mine and mine alone. What happened wasn''t your fault.
Don''t blame yourselves for any of this. I knew what I was signing myself up for. Sort of. Wasn''t really expecting to meet a dragon of all things, but hey, at least I might be the first person to ever speak to one!
I love you both,
Jane
With the letter finished, Callan slipped the letter back into the bottle and climbed up to her spot at the base of Aurum¡¯s neck.
¡°What words you make?¡± Aurum asked, glancing back at her curiously.
¡°...Hard to explain,¡± Callan sighed as she tied herself in. She was far from satisfied with what she had written, but given the circumstances it was the best that she could do.
?HELSHA!? Qnaro roared in the usual meeting place between him and Helsha; a small clearing surrounded by many wolcen trees, with a few of entwined ones visible.
Callan winced as his roar propagated through the skies, and the human clapped her hands over her ears as if in pain. ¡°Hurts,¡± she grumbled.
¡°Why you no hear less?¡± Qnaro asked.
¡°...what?¡± Callan asked, sounding very confused. ¡°How can I hear less?¡±
¡°This,¡± Qnaro said, flicking the spines along his jaw shut to loosen his webbed frill. After a second he allowed them to spring back up. ¡°Your ears bad, can not move,¡± he noted, glancing at the human¡¯s very oddly shaped ears.
Callan opened her mouth to respond, but instead she jumped as a dragon leapt out of the closest tree without warning.
?Qnaro, where-? Helsha said, then he froze mid-sentence to stare at Callan with his jaws agape. ?Is that a crafter?? he slowly said, glancing between Aurum and the human.
?Of course. Her name is ¡®Jane Callan¡¯, but I¡¯ve been calling her little-hunter,? Qnaro said, allowing himself to be a little smug. ¡°Laishaka, this is Helsha,¡± he said, turning around to speak with Callan.
?You crazy bastard. You actually did it,? Helsha faintly murmured, sitting down on his haunches with a thud. ?You found the farland, didn¡¯t you??
?Oh, well¡no,? Qnaro admitted. ?I just found her on one of the more distant islands to the east. She was with others of her own kind, but she got separated.?
?Ah. Wait, others of her own kind?? Helsha asked, eyes widening, ?Have you fou-?
?We have not,? Qnaro said, tossing his head in the negative. ?We were just searching for them, but we found absolutely nothing.? He went on to give an overview of their meeting, and how they were seeking out allies who they hoped would know about the other humans.
?I see¡? Helsha muttered, his golden eyes rarely left Callan throughout their conversation. ?Are the humans meat-eaters, plant-eaters, or something in between??
?I¡¯ve mostly been feeding her meat, but she does seem to like fruit as well.? Aurum shrugged.
?Well, bring her along, maybe she¡¯ll like some variety for a change,? Helsha said, and turned to leave.
¡°You trust him, right?¡± Callan asked as Qnaro followed the herbalist home.
¡°Yes, why?¡±
¡°He look at me very much. Is uncomfortable.¡±
¡°Helsha is most good dragon I know,¡± Qnaro said reassuringly. ¡°He do not hunt animals, and he do not eat animals.¡±
¡°He does not hunt?¡± Callan asked incredulously. ¡°What does he eat?¡±
¡°Fruit. Mushrooms. Insects,¡± Qnaro shrugged.
¡°Oh. Insects are animals,¡± Callan corrected.
Qnaro blinked. ¡°What is word for animal but not insect?¡±
¡°...humans do not have a word for that.¡±
¡°Strange,¡± Aurum chuffed.
?You really can talk with her,? Helsha said, having slowed down to listen to their conversation. ?Fascinating. Does she know much about growing plants??
?No, different humans specialize in different things, and little-hunter¡¯s speciality is in studying rocks.?
?Studying rocks?? Helsha asked, humming thoughtfully. ?Makes sense, what with their metal tools. Can you ask her if there any humans in her group that studied plants??
¡°Some,¡± Callan said, though they were more agriculturalists than botanists. ¡°Why are his scales a little white? Is he very old?¡±
¡°Helsha is 292 years old.¡±
¡°Wow,¡± Callan said. ¡°And why does he have patterns?¡±
¡°Why does he have patterns? All dragons have patterns,¡± Qnaro said, stopping in his tracks to stare at Callan.
¡°...No,¡± Callan said, glancing between Qnaro and Helsha. ¡°Helsha have¡weak patterns. You have no patterns.¡±
¡°I¡what?¡± Qnaro asked, completely bemused by Callan¡¯s questions. Of course he had patterns, why couldn¡¯t she see that?
?What¡¯s going on?? Helsha asked, glancing between the two of them.
?She says she can¡¯t see my patterns, but she can see yours a little,? Qnaro said, his spines flattening against his neck.
?Perhaps crafter eyes aren¡¯t very good?? Helsha said, though Qnaro didn¡¯t miss that self-satisfied look in his eyes. ?Well, whatever the case, I expect there¡¯ll be more demand for my hide-dye soon.?
?There would be far more demand if you could make it taste marginally better than sour carrion,? Qnaro grumbled.
¡°I think we see different colors,¡± Callan said, apparently not having followed their conversation.
¡°Is that¡thing that can happen?¡± Qnaro said skeptically. Color was color, wasn¡¯t it? How could you not see color? That was like saying someone couldn¡¯t sense cold, or heat, or had no sense of touch¡though senses did fade with age, so he supposed it wasn¡¯t an unprecedented idea. ?We¡¯ll talk about it later,? he said, tossing his head in frustration. ?Say, do you have anything to eat??
¡°He has a pot?¡± Callan asked, surprised by the familiar implement. It looked much like an archaic cast-iron pot, save for being wok-shaped and of course, dragon-sized.
¡°Pot is made from human tools,¡± Aurum explained.
¡°Human tools?¡±
¡°Sometimes dragon find human tools on beach.¡±
¡°Oh!¡± Callan exclaimed, her eyes widening in realization. The geologist hadn¡¯t realized the full implication of manmade objects washing ashore until now, but now she was starting to see how such salvage would significantly impact dragon culture. She hadn¡¯t really seen how much technology they had yet, but apparently it was enough to smelt and reshape cast iron for their own purposes.
¡°Is rare,¡± Aurum replied to her inquiry. ¡°Not many dragons have metal pot.¡±
¡°I see,¡± Callan said, watching as the old dragon stirred the pot with what seemed to be a wooden ladle. The soup seemed to be full of vegetables and mushrooms, as well as a few massive insects.
?You want?? Helsha asked, offering Callan what appeared to be a roasted pill-bug that was closer in size to a lobster.
¡°¡okay,¡± Callan shrugged. She peeled apart the pill-bug and took a tentative bite. To her surprise it was quite tender, something like a cross between lobster and chicken. The insect itself was seasoned lightly with herbs, and tasted surprisingly good¡even if it could have used more salt.
God, she missed table salt.
?Take,? Helsha said, offering Callan a rather large bowl of soup.
¡°Thanks,¡± Callan said, cautiously sipping the hot broth. It was¡surprisingly flavorful, she noted, despite not being rich or salty at all. The flavors were alien, but she felt oddly emotional at having a meal that felt like real food. ¡°This is good,¡± she said to Aurum, who was tipping his own bowl into his jaws.
?She likes it,? the golden dragon translated.
?I suppose that¡¯s quite the compliment, coming from a crafter,? Helsha said, the corners of his eyes wrinkling in a draconic smile.
¡°Wait, Xhorhw and Helsha both seemed surprised to see me, but they didn¡¯t act like I was something new, am I understanding things right?¡±
¡°Oh. I forgot,¡± Aurum said sheepishly. ¡°Dragons find one human ship 192 years ago.¡±
Callan blinked.
¡°What.¡±
¡°So dragons found a ship almost two hundred years ago, and that¡¯s why all dragons know about humans?¡± Callan said incredulously.
¡°...I not understand all your words,¡± Qnaro said. ¡°But dragons find human things before ship. Name for humans is word for person who makes things.¡±
¡°Why didn¡¯t you tell me this before?!¡±
¡°It not important,¡± Aurum said, scratching his jaw awkwardly. ¡°This not change things.¡±
¡°True, but you can tell me many days ago,¡± Callan said, jabbing a finger at Aurum.
Aurum¡¯s head drooped guiltily. ¡°Sorry.¡±
?Now can you explain what you two are talking about?? Helsha asked for the third time.
?I forgot to tell her that we knew about her kind from the crafter artifacts.?
?Of course you did,? Helsha chuffed, snickering in amusement.
?There was a lot to talk about! And we¡¯ve been busy!? Aurum said defensively.
?I assume you¡¯re leaving tomorrow then, yes? Then please, tell me everything you can before you depart.?
Mission Day 94: The Twins and the Architects
?I still can¡¯t believe you actually found a crafter,? Yantha sighed. ?Should I pay up now, or later??
?Later,? Qnaro said, grinning smugly. ?But more importantly, I need your help. I don¡¯t know what¡¯s going to happen at the Solstice, so we need as many allies as possible in case something happens.?
Karoth rumbled deeply as he eyed Callan. ?Not a bad idea. Think the clans might try something??
?I wouldn¡¯t put it past them,? Qnaro shrugged. ?Better to err on the side of caution anyway.?
?Alright, we¡¯ll help,? Yantha nodded. ?but we want to be the first to visit the farland ¨C by which we mean the largest land, of course.?
Qnaro nodded as he rose. ?Of course, Jane Callan has already agreed to advocate for you when we find the other humans. She isn''t much of an authority figure, but her words will carry much weight.?
?I suppose that''s reasonable,? Karoth said, tilting his head in acceptance. ?I assume you''ll be off to gather more allies now??
?Of course,? Qnaro nodded, rolling his wings. ?We''re going to visit the woodworkers next. See you at the plateau!?
¡°Wow, it¡¯s beautiful,¡± Callan said, amazed by the natural dwelling that the dragons had created.
Aurum had told her that Yintra and Eohmn were a partnered pair of dragons who were known for their woodworking prowess, but that hadn¡¯t quite prepared Callan for the sight of trees bent and grown into the form of a dragon-sized house. The habitat almost seemed like one living organism, though the two dragons assured her it was in fact several trees entwined together.
In short, the still-living trees formed the floor and walls of the dwelling, while the furniture was crafted out of dead wood in a more conventional manner. However, a closer inspection revealed that these pieces of furniture were constructed of tightly fitted planks, eliminating the need for nails or other fasteners.
At its core the design was not dissimilar to Helsha¡¯s own interwoven trees, but the herbalist¡¯s creations emphasized grandeur and scale while the woodworking architects had a clear focus on aesthetics.
?Crafter objects and tools were a great inspiration to us,? Yintra said. ?The designs we use are our own, but I do admit it would not have turned out as well as it did without your ¡®help¡¯.?
?You do have tools on this ¡®ship¡¯ of yours, correct?,? Eohmn asked. ?We would gladly offer our help in exchange for some new crafter tools.?
?Don¡¯t you want to visit their home island?? Aurum asked, blinking in surprise.
?Of course we do,? Yintra nodded, ?but we cannot simply up and leave for who knows how long, and more importantly it would be a better idea to wait for a time, and let others hazard themselves first. No offense to you,? he added.
?None taken, and suit yourself,? Aurum shrugged. ?Jane Callan has already agreed to supplying our allies with human tools, assuming it¡¯s a reasonable amount,? he added.
?And what would you consider ¡®reasonable¡¯?? Yintra asked with a minor tilt of his head.
?However much you can carry in flight.?
The two partners looked at each other for a moment.
?Deal.?
Mission Day 95: Mother
?Explain to me again how exactly this happened,? Wakori sighed, the old dragon rubbing her eyes in exasperation.
Qnaro tried not to shift uncomfortably before his mother. ?I noticed some birds had been displaced by something. I went to investigate, and found Jane Callan.?
?Of course you did,? Wakori grumbled. ?And what do the crafters want? To take our land??
?Their intention was to explore,? Qnaro said, his spines bristling in irritation. ?Of course they didn¡¯t know we were here, and I know it would be foolish to blindly trust them, but surely you agree that it would be even more foolish to assume them to be enemies; if that doesn¡¯t guarantee their hostility then I don¡¯t know what would.?
?So you¡¯ve said,? Wakori grumbled. ?Well, what do you want from me??
?Your help,? Qnaro said, forcing the words through his teeth. ?I know you don¡¯t like me, but I don¡¯t know what¡¯s going to happen at the solstice. We need as many allies as possible, and I¡¯m not stupid enough to spurn your help.?
Wakori did not immediately respond, her expression unreadable.
?Fine,? she nodded. ?I¡¯ll be there.?
¡°She doesn¡¯t seem very nice,¡± Callan said, a few minutes after they left the ornery dragon.
¡°She do not like me,¡± Aurum grumbled. ¡°She like fighting. I not good at fighting.¡±
¡°Oh,¡± Callan said, uncertain of how to respond. ¡°Then why did you ask for her help?¡±
Aurum sighed, the sound easily audible over the wind blowing past Callan¡¯s ears. ¡°She is strong,¡± he said simply.
¡°Well¡thank you for asking for her help,¡± Callan said, patting the dragon¡¯s neck. ¡°And¡I forgot to tell you, but thank you for helping me not die on that island.¡±
¡°Is okay, we have same wants,¡± Aurum said, rumbling reassuringly. ¡°We see two more dragons, then we go to Plateau, okay?¡±
?Oh!? Vhaka exclaimed. ?Is that-!?
?A crafter, yes,? Aurum groaned. ?Sorry, that was rude. We¡¯ve been gathering allies, and I¡¯ve had to explain everything¡six times now.?
Vhaka blinked, looking rather surprised. ?Are you¡complaining about having a living crafter with you??
?Well¡when you put it like that, it does seem a bit silly,? Qnaro admitted sheepishly, and went on to summarize everything as he¡¯d done so many times before.
?How exciting,? Vhaka said, looking at Callan with his bright blue eyes. ?You want more allies, yes? Then I think I¡¯ll pay Hironh-? a visit; he¡¯ll surely be a valuable to our cause.?
?Doesn¡¯t he have a broken wing?? Qnaro asked dubiously.
?Well¡yes,? Vhaka admitted, ?but he¡¯s still a decent fighter, and I heard he¡¯s gotten better over the years. Most importantly he¡¯s the honorable sort; I¡¯d say I trust him most out of anyone.?
?So long as you trust him,? Qnaro shrugged. There were only five days until the solstice, so a leak at this moment in time wouldn¡¯t be as big of a deal.
?It¡¯s rather late, would you like to stay the night?? Vhaka asked, glancing between Qnaro and Callan.
?That would be appreciated,? Qnaro said, bobbing his head in thanks.
?Tank yuu,? Callan offered.
Vhaka cocked his head. ?...did she just say ¡®thank you¡¯?? he asked uncertainly.
?She¡¯s been practicing,? Qnaro snorted in amusement. ?You should have heard her first attempts.?
?Yuu unduhstahn?? Callan asked.
?A little,? Vhaka said, and patted Callan on the head with the palm of his wing. ?Such strange looking creatures, though they are somewhat cuter than I expected. Do they eat meat??
?Cute?? Qnaro echoed, his pupils narrowing incredulously. ?Er¡yes, though she prefers to eat a variety of foods.?
?Good, I have some fruits,? Vhaka said, nodding to himself. ?Come, come! You need a little rest, what with how many days you¡¯ve been flying.?
¡°He seems nice,¡± Callan commented.
¡°He is very easy to talk to,¡± Aurum murmured back. ¡°Good at cooking too.¡±
Mission Day 96: Iakahn
Qnaro flared out his wings as he approached the small island, landing gently near a glowering dragon.
?Where have you been? I¡¯ve been waiting a day and a half for you!? Iakahn hissed. ?Didn¡¯t we agree to tell the other about any interesting things we found??
?We did, but-?
?So why did I hear news about you finding a living crafter from some random dragon instead of you?? Iakahn hissed, glowering intensely at him.
?Well, you don¡¯t stay in one place for very long, and I couldn¡¯t be sure where you would be,? Qnaro said defensively. ?I needed you to hear the news from someone else first; that way you would know where to wait for me.?
?That¡¯s-? Iakahn paused. ?Actually¡a good point,? she said, ducking her head with an abashed air. ?Sorry, I was so excited by the news that I wasn¡¯t thinking clearly.?
?No, I understand,? Qnaro said, bobbing his head. ?I would have told you as soon as possible if I could, but we needed to gather allies, and our meeting place was the furthest away.? An awkward silence passed. ?Anyway, let me tell you about Callan!?
?Yes!? Iakahn said, her pupils dilating in excitement. ?Tell me everything!?
?Hehlo,? Callan said, waving her hand in tentative greeting at the now amicable dragon.
?She talks!? Iakahn exclaimed. ?I mean, I was certain crafters would have some sort of speech, but-?
?Yes, amazing, isn¡¯t it?? Qnaro grinned, sitting down on his haunches. ?Come, sit on down, it''s going to take some time for me to tell you everything I know.?
Mission day 97: Return
¡°You said she is sixteen years old, right?¡± Callan asked, glancing between Aurum and Iakahn.
¡°Yes, why?¡± Aurum asked.
¡°I like her necklace ¨C that''s the seashell thing,¡± Callan said to Aurum. ¡°It looks very good. Did she make it herself?¡±
¡°She did,¡± Aurum nodded, ¡°I will tell her what you said.¡±
?Don''t patronize me,? Iakahn huffed, her pupils narrowing in disdain. ?It''s just a few seashells. Why would a crafter care about that??
¡°I''m not fake-saying-good-things,¡± Callan said, raising her hands defensively while Aurum awkwardly translated for her. ¡°They look very good. How did you get them to shine like that?¡±
?Oh,? Iakahn said, her spines falling abashedly. ?Well, first I polish them with sand for a long time, then I used crocodile stomach fluids to etch away the finer stuff. After that I just polish it some more to get it to shine.?
¡°That must take a very long time.¡±
?Yes, it did,? Iakahn nodded slowly. ?I''m sorry if I was rude, but I still don''t understand why you''d find something like this impressive. Can''t crafters ¨C I mean, can''t humans make far more impressive things?? she asked, eyeing Callan''s wedding band.
¡°It''s complicated,¡± Callan chuckled. ¡°Most humans do one thing, so many humans work together to make one thing.¡± She paused, seeing Aurum¡¯s pupils shrink in confusion. ¡°Example: one human breaks rock, another human takes metal out of the rock, and then another human uses the metal to make something like my ring.¡±
?Oh. I see,? Iakahn said, sounding a little disappointed. ?I assumed you were all capable of making things, but I suppose that makes more for individuals to specialize in certain skills.?
?We should get going,? Aurum said, standing up to leave. ?The solstice is in three days, and it''ll take two to get back to the Plateau.?
?And I''m coming with you, right?? Iakahn asked, her eyes wide with anticipation.
?Of course,? Qnaro nodded, then hesitated. ?Actually, Callan and I need to visit Helsha first. We can fly together for a day or so, but could you head to the plateau first? I need you to let me know if anything odd happens.?
?Good idea,? Iakahn nodded. ?I''ll let you know if anyone speaks of the other humans.?
Plan made, the two dragons ascended into the sky, flying northwards to the Plateau.
¡°Think Helsha will know anything?¡± Callan asked as Aurum settled into a glide.
¡°Helsha is strong, and near the Plateau,¡± Aurum said, half-turning his head to reply. ¡°If there are other human-allied dragons, they will definitely want him as an ally.¡±
¡°Makes sense,¡± Callan managed, her heart palpating with an unpleasant combination of anticipation, hope, and dread. In a mere two days she would finally know what she had to do.
The geologist took in a deep breath and tightened her grip on the vines, looking towards the northern skyline.
¡°Let¡¯s go find out what¡¯s going on.¡±
Bonus chapter: Bioluminescence
Day 79
¡°Where are you going?¡± Pryce asked, rubbing his eyes. The sun had set some time ago, and Pryce had never seen Fathom fly at night before.
¡°I need to do a thing,¡± Fathom said evasively as he added more wood to the fire. ¡°I will be back in about twenty minutes. You will be safe here if you don''t leave the cave, but have your rifle ready.¡±
¡°Oh. Okay¡?¡± Pryce said, frowning at the odd behavior.
¡°Don''t go to sleep,¡± Fathom said, giving one last warning before darting out of the cave. A few moments later Pryce heard the sound of departing wingbeats, and he was left alone in the cave.
The human busied himself with thoughts of the future as he stoked the fire, but true to his word Fathom returned about twenty minutes later.
¡°Get ready to fly,¡± Fathom said, shrugging on the flying harness without further preamble.
¡°What?¡± Pryce asked, confused by the odd request. Fathom didn¡¯t seem agitated; if anything he seemed excited, judging by the raised state of his spines. ¡°Why? Is something wrong?¡±
¡°Just come with me,¡± Fathom coaxed as he nudged Pryce up. ¡°I want to show you something interesting. Bring a container and a microscope,¡± he added.
The dragon seemed determined to be unforthcoming, so Pryce did as he was told, packing the items into his backpack and donning his makeshift flight gear before clipping himself onto the base of Fathom¡¯s neck.
¡°Ready?¡± Fathom asked, and broke into a run upon hearing Pryce''s affirmative. The moment the dragon gathered enough speed he leapt off the side of the mountain, flapping his wings as he soared to the northeast.
¡°We¡¯re not going far, are we?¡± Pryce asked as Fathom levelled out into a glide. The gibbous moon shone bright above them, illuminating the forest canopy below them.
¡°We will be there in a few minutes,¡± Fathom said, without turning his head back.
¡°And when are you going to tell me where we¡¯re going?¡± Pryce asked.
¡°The ocean!¡± Fathom called back, an excited undertone in his voice.
¡°Why?¡±
¡°It is easier to see than to explain!¡±
Any subsequent questions from Pryce only returned other similarly unhelpful answers, so the human gave up on his line of inquiry until they reached the shoreline.
¡°So, what are we-¡±
Pryce trailed off in bafflement as he tried to process what he was seeing.
The night had brought about gentler winds for a more tranquil sea, but what Pryce saw before him was an entire region of unnaturally calm water, several hundred meters across and nearly one kilometer long. It was as if some force had smoothed out the wrinkles of an unimaginably vast swathe of cloth, leaving the areas outside of its influence untouched.
¡°What¡is that?¡± Pryce asked, completely baffled by the bizarre phenomena.
¡°I made that using my oil,¡± Fathom candidly replied, to which Pryce could only gape in silence. ¡°You don¡¯t know that oil can make water flat? I thought you would be able to explain why it does that,¡± he said, sounding surprised and a little disappointed.
¡°I know oil doesn¡¯t mix with water, and I know oil will float on top of water, but I didn¡¯t know it could do this to the ocean,¡± Pryce frowned. ¡°It must be stopping the waves before they even form, somehow¡¡± he trailed off, taking in the beauty of the scene ¨C the ocean surface was nearly flat, and it reflected the moon and stars above almost like a mirror. ¡°It¡¯s very beautiful; I can see why you wanted to show this to me.¡±
¡°I didn¡¯t bring you here to only show you this,¡± Fathom said, chuffing in amusement. ¡°Hold on!¡±
This was the sole warning Fathom gave before he snapped his wings shut.
Pryce stifled a yelp, clinging to the back of Fathom¡¯s neck as they plummeted through the sky. They fell for several seconds before Fathom flared his wings, pulling up into a glide just over the ocean surface.
¡°What are you doing-!¡± Pryce exclaimed, but then Fathom banked right, and the human was silenced by the sight of the dragon dragging a wingtip through a brightly glowing ocean.
(Art by @Ferrety-Lixciaa on twitter, @Ferrety-lixciaa.bsky.social on Bluesky)
¡°What¡is that?¡± Pryce breathed in awe.
¡°Fiery waters,¡± Fathom replied, alternating wings to straighten his course, ¡°they can be seen during some parts of the year, and they''re a popular thing to see.¡±
¡°They''re beautiful,¡± Pryce whispered. ¡°I''ve never heard of anything like this before.¡±Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.
¡°They''re not on the Mainland? What do you think causes it?¡± Fathom craned his head around to ask, his red eyes brightly reflecting the moonlight.
¡°They have to be some kind of life, bacteria, maybe. Oh, that''s why you wanted me to bring the microscope!¡±
¡°Yes!¡± Fathom said, bobbing his head as he angled himself back to land.
¡°Can we fly a little longer?¡± Pryce asked hopefully, glancing down at the unassuming ocean.
Fathom did not immediately answer, and for a moment Pryce thought his question hadn''t been heard. ¡°It is¡a little dangerous to do this for very long,¡± the dragon admitted as he made to land. ¡°Once or twice is safe, especially if I fly fast, but the light still attracts large predators.¡±
¡°Oh,¡± Pryce said, feeling a little silly. That would have been obvious if he¡¯d taken the time to think about it.
Each beat of Fathom''s wings caused the wet sand below them to pulse with light, up until the dragon snapped his wings shut.
Pryce immediately dismounted to collect a sample of the glowing water, though he paused to observe his own footsteps which glowed for a moment before fading into normalcy.
¡°Fun, isn''t it?¡± Fathom asked, drawing a few glowing arcs into the sand.
¡°Yes, it is,¡± Pryce chuckled, swishing the water bottle around with more force than was strictly necessary.
Fathom crowded over his shoulder as he set up the microscope, laying the fine instrument and its battery on top of his backpack to keep them dry. He placed a drop of water onto a glass slide, then slid it under the microscope.
¡°What do you see?¡± Fathom asked, nearly nosing Pryce aside to see what was going on.
¡°Just hold on a second!¡± Pryce scolded. He set the backlight to the lowest setting, then tapped the glass slide with a fingernail.
Sure enough, the multitude of microscopic creatures pulsed with light in time with each of his taps.
¡°Yep, they''re living things,¡± Pryce said, moving aside to let Fathom hover over an eyepiece. ¡°You can see them light up when you tap the slide.¡±
¡°It really is alive,¡± Fathom said, gently tapping the microscope¡¯s stage with a talon. ¡°Most dragons think fiery water is just water with lots of energy, like wood. I have never heard of anyone who thought it was caused by glowing creatures.¡±
¡°I wonder why they glow,¡± Pryce mused as he watched the sand light up with each tap of his foot. ¡°It must have a purpose¡they only glow when disturbed, so maybe it''s a defense of some kind?¡±
¡°I don''t see how this is useful as a defense,¡± Fathom replied absently. ¡°Glowing just makes it easier for a predator to find you.¡±
¡°Maybe if only one glowed,¡± Pryce admitted, ¡°but if everyone glowed then that might overwhelm a predator. Or it could be something else, and I could be completely wrong,¡± Pryce shrugged.
¡°Mmm,¡± Fathom rumbled.
Pryce glanced back at the dragon to see him looking not through the microscope, but off into the distance.
¡°Is something the matter?¡± Pryce asked.
¡°No,¡± Fathom said, tossing his head. ¡°If there were dolphins in the water, then I would know that it is safe,¡± Fathom said as he glanced around. ¡°I tried calling them over earlier, but they didn¡¯t come.¡±
¡°Calling them over?¡± Pryce asked. ¡°You can do that?¡±
¡°Sometimes we hunt together,¡± Fathom said offhandedly. ¡°They hunt fish under water, I catch the ones that jump above water, and we share the fish. I¡¯ll try calling them again.¡±
Pryce watched as the dragon took a deep breath, stuck his head into the ocean, and made a strange yet loud clicking noise.
¡°How did you figure that out?¡± Pryce asked when Fathom lifted his head out of the water. ¡°That you could hunt with the dolphins, I mean.¡±
¡°I have heard others do it before,¡± Fathom shrugged. ¡°You just need to feed them a bit of food, then they¡¯ll understand that you want to work together.¡±
¡°I see,¡± Pryce said, wondering how far back that mutualistic relationship went.
They waited for a response for several minutes, but nothing seemed to happen. ¡°Hmm,¡± Fathom rumbled, turning around to stare into the forest behind them.
¡°Is there something in the forest?¡± Pryce asked warily.
¡°No,¡± Fathom said, tossing his head. ¡°It looks like they aren¡¯t around, but I have another idea. You said humans hunt for fish using food on a string, right?¡±
¡°Are you sure this is a good idea?¡± Pryce asked as Fathom arced through the skies.
¡°Of course!¡± Fathom laughed, dropping the log into the water. Pryce couldn''t see below them, but he heard the log splash into the water, and several seconds later a weak jolt told him that the vine Fathom held had gone taut.
A glance behind him showed a glowing trail left behind the log as it was dragged through the ocean. ¡°It looks like it''s working!¡± Pryce called out.
¡°Good! Keep watching it!¡± Fathom replied, beating his wings to gain a little more altitude.
Pryce did as he asked, and scarcely a minute later he spotted an immense outline glowing beneath the waves, moving at a ridiculous speed towards their ¡®bait¡¯.
¡°I see something!¡± Pryce exclaimed.
The creature struck the instant Pryce finished his sentence, and his eyes bulged wide open as a gargantuan predator shot out of the water. Luminescent saltwater clung to the creature¡¯s body, revealing its silhouette to be similar to that of a finned crocodilian, albeit far larger than any Pryce had ever heard described.
Fathom twisted about, tossing away the vine he held in his talons ¨C he must have seen the glowing vine trailing out of the creature¡¯s mouth as it fell back into the ocean, sending a great plume of water into the sky. The myriad water droplets rained back down upon the ocean, causing it to glimmer with a thousand tiny blips of light.
The creature returned to the depths as quickly as it arrived, leaving behind only a tumultuous surface and a glowing trail deep beneath the waves.
¡°What the hell was that?¡± Pryce questioned as Fathom flew back home.
¡°That was an ocean crocodile,¡± Fathom said, turning his head to reply. ¡°It was probably why the dolphins didn¡¯t come.¡±
¡°You were trying to bait that thing?¡± Pryce asked incredulously.
¡°It¡¯s safe, I was flying higher than they can jump,¡± Fathom said brusquely. ¡°That one was a little smaller than most; I wanted to show you a bigger one.¡±
¡°They get bigger?¡± Pryce demanded. It was hard to be certain just how large the ocean crocodile was, but it was easily twice as long as Fathom, and far more massive.
¡°Yes, but most don¡¯t live near land, which is why I had to fly further out,¡± Fathom explained. ¡°Want to fly over glowing water some more?¡±
¡°No, thank you,¡± Pryce said, feeling a little ill at the prospect.
¡°I told you it is safe if you do it near land, and if you go fast; I have done it many times before.¡±
¡°I would prefer not to risk that,¡± Pryce said drily, but Fathom only eyed him with dilated pupils. ¡°No, don¡¯t even think about it-¡±
Fathom folded his wings.