Heart of Dorkness

Terror One - Flight

Today

The wyvern beats its wings, clawing across the sky with heavy thumps. Each one makes it climb then drop a little. Behind it, behind us, half a dozen more dragon-like monsters hover in the air, eyes twisting around and searching for prey and trouble in equal measure.

I’m clinging on the back of the largest wyvern’s neck, hands wrapped around a pair of spikes. My fingers are numb, the leather gloves I’m wearing doing nothing to fight the cold air. At least if they freeze there, I’d be that much less likely to fall off.

My knees are clamped around the wyvern’s shoulders, and my chest is pressed down onto a cloth-covered saddle. I have goggles on, to protect me from the wind, and my scarf whips at the air behind me, a banner declaring my presence.

Not that I can see any of that.

Both of my eyes are screwed shut, and my knees are wobbling against the wyvern as if I have the biggest urge to pee.

I don’t want to say anything, because that might distract the nice wyvern taxiing me around, but I can’t help but repeat the same mantra over and over again. “Please don’t fall. Please don’t fall. Please don’t fall.”

I have a whole mission to accomplish, and falling down--I peek out of one squinted eye, stare way, way down at the ground way way below, then squeeze the eye back shut--falling down all that way wouldn’t be good, not at all.

Clinging to the wyverns for hours on end isn’t my idea of a fun time. I had plans for this trip. Maybe a bit of light reading?

Of course, those plans took a backseat the moment Mom gave me goggles and made that little noise she makes when I’m about to do something unpleasant and she gets to watch. I think I even heard her laughing out loud when the wyvern took off and I started screaming.

Mom can be like that.

Finally, at long last, the wyverns shift and I can feel my tummy climb up my throat as we start to descend. I grip on even tighter not to be pulled off the monster’s back, but they’re surprisingly gentle when it comes to landing, both legs shooting out ahead of them and running across the ground for a little bit until they slow to a wing-flapping stop.

“Oh, thank you!” I cheer before disembarking.

Disembark might be a little disingenuous. It’s more that I flop off the side of the wyvern and manage to slow my fall by grabbing onto some of the monster’s many spikes.

“Thanks,” I tell it. “Now give me a bit, I need to fetch my things.”

The wyvern stares at me with surprisingly intelligent green eyes for a moment, then shifts so that it’s even lower.

I pout. Couldn’t it have done that earlier?

We’ve landed in a big clearing, an open field, with rocks all over and big bushes and spiky weeds poking out from between the rocky... everything, really. There is plenty of plant life though. The field is just on the side of a slight hill where the wind cutting across Ares Pond makes it hard for dirt to settle down.

A lot of the land around here is supposed to be fairly rough, at least according to the old maps Mom has in her library.

I take a deep breath of fresh air. It smells different here. Not as sulphurous as the air at home. We’re technically downwind from the volcanoes back home, but far enough south that most of the ashy air probably misses this area entirely.

It’s a nice place, very green. I like green.

I grab my pack from the saddle over the wyvern’s rear and shove my goggles and scarf into it. The riding gloves I keep. Then I root around and find my glasses, big round things with thick glass that weigh a fair bit and sit pretty on the end of my nose.

The backpack slides on, then I pick up my cloak and realize that I can’t put my cloak over my pack.

I sigh as I take off the pack, put the cloak on, then slip my backpack over that.

The hood can stay down for now. My skin can’t be any paler than it is, so maybe a bit of sunlight will help. “Alright,” I say as I bounce on the spot to make sure everything is sitting right. “You guys can head out now.”

The wyverns raise their wings, and I bring an arm up to shield myself from the whipping winds they create before taking off. Soon, they’re just dots in the sky above, one peeling off from the others to circle around.

Of course Mom would insist that at least one of them keeps watch.

Well, I can’t argue with her from here. This is my first time away from home, and it might be dangerous.

Every book I’ve read suggests that people remain in or near a city. The only people that should leave a city are those in large bands, and the very strong. People with at least three classes, all of them well past Novice.

According to my books, it’s dangerous to underestimate monsters. They’re always on the prowl, always searching for someone or something to kill and consume.

I see a couple now, a pack of them, all wolf-like and covered in spines, blue eyes glowing bright enough that I can see them even from where I stand.

Monsters, the terrors of the night, the remnants of twisted souls. Few things are more dangerous, and nothing has claimed more lives.

They’re also really cute! “Hello puppies!” I call out.

My trip starts on a positive note as I’m escorted by a pack of monster doggies. Most of them are only tall enough to reach my hip, but the biggest of the pack is taller than I am, and he (or she? I didn’t look!) really likes being scritched under the chin.

I have a destination, of course. This isn’t just some wandering out into the wilderness. I was given a chore to take care of. A mission.

Otherwise I’d be back home, cocooned on a nice chair with a good book.

Mom would be pretty disappointed in me if I failed though. Heck, I’d be disappointed in myself.

I keep my nose up and my emotions level as I continue on my trek. Actually, on thinking about it, it doesn’t make much sense not to use some magic. I’m not in the castle, I can do whatever I want.

Laughing to myself, I run ahead of the pack of monster dogs, channelling my Amazement into a spark that makes me just a little faster, that sharpens my perception by a bit. I’m hardly gifted with that kind of thing, but I can manage that much.

The monsters bark and growl as they follow me, probably making more noise than is wise, but these lands, these open fields and this forest that I’m skirting around, they all belong to the monsters, and the monsters, well, they’re mine too.

I skip over tiny tar-pools, black spots of sludge filling little crevices, and I push my legs as hard as they can go for a little bit. It doesn’t take long before I slow down. I might have brought too many books. Ironic, seeing as that’s the crux of my chore.

Mom is an avid reader. She has copies of everything. Everything. No matter how mundane or boring, she has a copy of it.

Getting a copy of everything means dealing with merchants and such, which is what she sent me out here to do. Someone’s late. More late than usual.

There’s no reason to believe that books have suddenly gone extinct--something Mom said has nearly happened a few times--or that there’s some big war causing delays in the market. So, the likely cause is some small bit of trouble that can probably be sorted out.

I have gold, and threats.

Mom says that they’re both great ways to get what you want.

I figure this will be a cake-walk. My first task completed on Mom’s behalf. Just get in, poke around, and leave. I could even ride along on the caravan back! No flying, and I’d finally get to read something before Mom gets to it.

The pack of friendly monsters and I break through the underbrush, and out before me, sitting in the crux of a valley with Ares Pond to the west and deep forests opposite, is a city.

Santafaria. The first signs of actual civilization I’ve ever seen.

I need to stifle my joy and soothe my core, or else my emotions will get the better of me. Still, I can’t help but be excited.