Morana
__ __ Asa
__ __ Kabechet
____ Scale
Even though Asa had grown used to walking once his wingsail became brittle and unusable, that didn't mean he had to like being ground-bound. He kept it to himself as much as possible, though; complaining wouldn't make the journey any faster. He could only hope that Morana didn't resent him holding their pace back.
"Are you certain there's an oasis near here?" he asked, glancing up at his companion's angular head. There was no expression on her bony face to read any more than there was on his, but he'd learned to interpret the glint of cyan light that lurked in her sockets. It wavered in wary uncertainty now.
"Should be," she rumbled back. "We've been following the course of the river this whole time. I swear the map Ma gave me had it coming up in a spring once or twice more before we reach the Lightning Farm." Now she raised her head to the sky; they both did, observing the perpetual thunderstorm that raged in the skies over the heart of Lightning territory. Somewhere in that storm, so thick with lightning that the clouds seemed to crawl on pale, flickering legs across the face of Sornieth, was the forest of narrow mesas that collected all that raw energy.
Asa felt what little fur he had left begin to crawl just looking upon that tempest. Some who hadn't grown up in the Wasteland had professed similar feelings when perched on the Rim of the Wyrmwound. Now he understood the awe they felt when faced with the raging power of an element not their own; one that could easily destroy the interloper.
"I think I'll get Edgar to scout ahead," Asa said, then lifted his face to the sky to whistle for his circling familiar. The bonepicker immediately folded his wings and spiralled down to them. He called directions up before Edgar could land, sending the broad-winged beast on ahead to look for the promised oasis.
Morana glanced down at her compartiot as the skydancer watched his familiar ride the thermals above them. "What's it like to fly?" she asked. "I never did. My wings wouldn't hold me."
He continued looking after Edgar. "In purely factual terms? Much faster and more efficient than walking." He unfolded his wings as far as he dared; just far enough for the dry and paper-thin skin to rustle like old parchment. "In other terms... I know I never appreciated it as much as my ancestors in the Windswept Plateau, but... whenever I was flying, I could forget about all the worries that weighed me down."
Morana ruminated on that for a while. That was one of the things he liked about her the most: she never said anything she hadn't considered thoroughly before speaking. She still hadn't replied when Edgar came winging back and trilled an encouragement to the two dragons. Asa got an image of clear water reflecting the sky; the dark shape of another dragon; an impression of distance, though not a great one. They'd reach it in under an hour.
"We're close to the spring," Asa reported to his silent friend. "And there's someone else already there."
"Trouble?"
Asa glanced once more at the bonepicker who'd returned to circling overhead. To his asking, Edgar sent him more impressions of the other dragon. Asa picked up that the dragon was much larger than Edgar, dark of scale but garbed in something shiny. "I don't know. Edgar didn't get much more than a glance. They're big, but the shape is wrong for an imperial. Either a ridgeback or a guardian."
She grunted and peered ahead of them. "Not one like us, I expect. Pa said there aren't many outside of our clan."
"Possibly trouble. But we won't know until we get there," Asa concludes.
"Yes."
The oasis made its proximity known at a distance by the grove of vegetation that thrived all around it, a riot of green among the crags of faded sandstone. A dark shape detached itself from the green as they approached, though the guardian waited for them to approach with no outward sign of hostility.
"Salirenes, travelers," the guardian said once they were in earshot.
"Salirenes," Asa called back. He noted Morana falling back to walk at his flank rather than at his side; she preferred to hold her peace among outsiders. He was content to do the speaking for them both. "We are peaceful travelers who need only stop to drink and find our bearings."
The guardian's wary golden eyes regarded them. "In the normal course, I would welcome you to refresh yourself. But it is my Charge to keep the water of this spring clean of taint. W-"
Asa interrupted the guardian before she could speak the rest. "We are not contagious, Sulan, I pledge you. Your spring will suffer no taint from us." He heard a faint rattle of irritation from behind him, but kept his gaze on the guardian and didn't turn to see what Morana was doing.
After regarding them for another long moment, the guardian dipped her head in assent and stepped aside. "Very well then. Be you welcome, travelers."
Asa turned to gesture Morana ahead of him. Not that he expected his companion to do something so precipitous as lash out at their host; Morana was no fool. But he judged it wiser to let her go on ahead and get her out of the guardian's proximity quickly. Morana stalked down to the oasis, making no effort to keep her bones and spikes from clattering with every stiff step she took. Asa padded after her much more quietly, except for the click of his wingbones together. It did help that he was robed in real clothing where Morana was merely wrapped in linen bandages and aged, discarded armor.
Edgar came in to land next to him as Asa stepped up to the oasis. From among the packs strapped to Morana's back came a rustle as her familiar Beast slid down off his perch to drink. Rather than merely drink, Edgar plunged into the spring-fed pool and ducked his head into the water, splashing vigorously with his wings until the barbs of every feather were soaked and slicked back so he looked more like a porcupine than a bonepicker. Morana rumbled a chuckle at him despite herself and watched Edgar climb out of the pool, shake vigorously (much to Beast's disgust when he got soaked,) and flop down to preen.
Since they would have to wait until Edgar preened himself mostly dry to move on, Morana unslung her packs and took out the map. Asa sorted through them to retrieve food, which he dispensed before settling next to Morana. "Which spring is this?" he asked her between bites of jerked meat.
The guardian padded up next to them. "Do you need directions, travelers?" she asked, politely enough that Morana bothered to glance over.
"Just to the nearest clan lair," Asa replied. "Preferably one that would accept new members, but I expect not many would take us in." He spoke matter-of-factly, but next to him Morana rumbled again deep in her chest.
The guardian gave them another penetrating look. "You seek more than temporary shelter, then?"
"Does it look to you like we have such a thing?" Morana shot back.
The guardian raised her head to look Morana in the eye, shining gold to a glimmer of cyan. "How would I know if you did or did not? I ask a simple question."
Asa answered before Morana could get more annoyed. "Yes, that's what we seek. Do you know of any clans who would take us?"
The guardian transferred her gaze to him. "I might," she said, but only after a long pause. "At the very least, they would offer you shelter for long enough to find a more congenial clan. Some of their number would not make you feel welcome, but those in authority are more generous than those dissenters. If you are willing to brave the scorn, I can show you the way there." Another pause. "Can either of you fly?"
"I can, for short distances and in calm skies," Morana grated reluctantly. "But he cannot. And I cannot fly burdened with our packs."
"There is an entrance that can be reached without flight." The guardian stood. "Fetch me when you are ready to depart and I will take you there."
Their guide finally introduced herself as Kabechet during the trek to what turned out to be the guardian's home clan. It also turned out to be deep in the Lightning Farm, in one of the towering mesas that hosted a jagged copper spire struck every few moments by a bolt out of the boiling clouds. Asa was deafened by the thunder after mere moments of walking under the cacophony.
As promised, Kabechet led them to a metal hatchway that looked to open right into the living stone of the mesa, except that on the other side was a chamber lit by electric lights. Kabechet gestured them inside, where Asa saw a forgettable fae perched on a stool. In front of the fae was a contraption that made
tak-tak-tak sounds as they tapped at it, and some strange light reflected onto their face.
"I am taking these two to the lair level," Kabechet told the fae. "Send a message to Dasuron, please?"
The fae's dorsal frill lifted and flattened, which their guide took as assent, because she turned without another word and led them through another door. This tunnel looked more rough hewn, more like tunnels Asa was used to; it was barely big enough for Kabechet and Morana to pass without ducking their heads. It wound up and up in a spiralling path gentle enough not to strain them to keep up, lit by more electric lights buzzing overhead. Every now and then a window glazed with thick glass looked out over the Lightning Farm, proving to them how high they climbed. Less often, metal doors punctuated the inner side.
"Is there anything on this side?" he asked, extending a wing to brush the stone wall on the inside of the curving path.
"Yes. This passage sits on the outside of the lair chambers and provides access to each level. At the peak of the mesa is the Farm spire and its workings; below is the lair. Many of our public chambers are in this part of the mesa. At and below ground level are storage areas and some private chambers for those who don't mind being enclosed in a tomb." Kabechet shivered a little. "Those hatched of Earth and Shadow even like them, but they give me and many others the horrors."
"If the spire explodes, I'd rather be too far under it to be affected by the blast," Morana commented blandly.
That made Asa blink. "Do spires explode often?"
Morana chuckled as Kabechet shot a glare over her shoulder. "No."
A whirl of glistening scales shot toward them and barely swerved around Kabechet's head in time to avoid hitting her. The spiral did latch onto the wing-claw the guardian raised, coiling her body around it to turn Ice-pale eyes to the newcomers. "Kabechet, these are the new ones? Where did you find them? What - who are they?"
Asa coud tell by the quavery tone and (relatively) slow enunciation that this spiral was getting on in years, through she showed little sign of it on her shiny hide. Kabechet turned her great head to look from her clanmate to the two strangers. "I did not ask their names, but yes, they are the new ones. They came to one of my oases and asked to be granted shelter. I knew what Dasuron-soren would say if it came to her attention that I refused them."
The spiral's eyes twinkled in a smile. "Yes, so do I. Dasuron is busy arguing with Roland and Io right now, so I'll take them in." She uncoiled from Kabechet's wing and hovered while the guardian padded up the pathway to another door, through which she disappeared.
"My name is Scale," said the spiral. "I'm the clan's librarian and records-keeper. Come this way!" Without further ado, she shot off back the way they'd come.
They only descended a short distance before they found Scale wound around the latch to another metal door. Without being asked, Morana raised a claw to open the door for her.
"Thank you," the spiral said as they passed. "The engineers say they'll make these open automatically some day, but I expect 'some day' will be a while in coming."
Scale's forthright friendliness after Kabechet's cold formality was refreshing. Even Morana unbent enough to rumble, "That sounds like what my hatch-clan was told every time we reported the cannons malfunctioning."
Scale chuckled as she flew after them into the room. "Well, you won't have to worry about that here. One of our clan-daughters is an ECT and she keeps ours running right and tight." The spry spiral settled around the brass stand of a lamp that cast warm amber light onto a desk cluttered with paper. "Now then, are you two visiting, or staying permanently?"
Asa sprawled on the sill of the wide window that looked out over the Lightning Farm. Edgar was curled against his feet and squinting with every evidence of contentment into the dancing lightning in the sky around and above. Morana clicked up behind him and rested her chin on his shoulder.
"Lovely view," she observed.
"Almost as good as flying," he replied.
"Better than flying. We're behind stone, glass, and spells. No danger of getting struck down."
He laughed a little and rested his cheek against her muzzle. "You have a point."
