Blood of the Sea, Chapter Thirty-Two

Chapter 32: Rapport

Astrophel

The white Thralkin’s wings cup against the wind, shaping the air to suit her needs as she slows, her lower half dropping toward the earth as she descends. Hind feet catch first, her tail lashing behind her as she rocks forward onto shorter forelegs and her wings sweep high over her back as her lips curl back, a display of glistening teeth flashing as her maw opens and she roars. Cold air blasts against Astrophel’s face and neck as his ear drums are assaulted from such a sound at close proximity. The Thralkin swings her head and eyes them, nostrils flaring and she paws at the dirt, long furrows following the path of her claws.

Astrophel’s J’korun skitters away while Dionne’s balks and rears, pawing at the sky. Seri, more in control of her mount, raises a hand and shouts, “Flykra. It’s me, Seri of Kildangan. I brought friends. Newcomers.” Her voice is hard to hear over the ringing in his ears, but Astrophel breathes through the budding panic when he hears mention of ‘friends’.

The Thralkin snorts, another cold blast radiating from her, and a voice like ice crackles through the air, [ What friends are they of yours when they stink of magic? You know we do not welcome Mages. ]

The pause following the words causes Astrophel’s heartbeat to trip for a moment. Something about the clarity of the voice and the ringing in his ears doesn’t add up.

Seri yells again, “They aren’t mages. Yes, they have magic, but they’re not from here. They don’t know our customs.”

[ Why should I trust them? Why have you brought them to my nest? ] The white Thralkin’s teeth flash again. [ I could count this as a betrayal. It would be no issue killing you three. ]

“Flykra, please.”

Realization dawns on Astrophel slowly, like the drip of melting water as Seri pleads for the Thralkin to listen to her. She’s not talking to the Rider. She’s talking to the creature. The thought strikes through him and he shushes Tore, trying to come to terms with the crackling voice echoing through his mind. His mother could mind-speak, but on a one-on-one basis or in her dreamscape. It was unheard of for a creature to do it, much less for the creature to broadcast into multiple peoples’ minds. He finds his voice amidst the confusion. “You… can talk?”

The Thralkin rears back her head, an almost insulted air about her, [ Of course I can talk, you foreign idiot. ] The words crackle in his mind like ice shattering against the ground.

“Flykra, that’s enough.” The voice, masculine and new, comes more distantly, and Astrophel realizes, as he watches the person atop the white Thralkin move towards dismounting, that it was probably him talking back to the creature. Flykra bobs her head, a gesture that reminds Astrophel of an eye roll but not quite. She shakes out her neck, her wings lowering and folding along her flanks. Even as she settles on her belly, she towers over those present. It’s hard to know for sure, but Astrophel imagines she would even tower over the ruins of Asos.

The Rider slides down Flykra’s white scales to the ground, and Astrophel sees how he almost missed the Rider atop the creature in the first place. He is clad in white scales, almost from head to toe. The Rider pushes cheekbone-length light brown hair away from his arctic white-blue eyes - a match, in this way, to his mount. His chest piece is thickly inlaid with overlapping white scales which glint and shimmer ever so softly. His arms are less armored, though the long sleeves do appear to at least be made out of leather. His pants are similarly fashioned: the top half is more heavily scaled than the part covering his shins. From a militaristic perspective, Astrophel appreciates the freedom of movement and protection the rider is provided from both a seated and more mobile position.

The Rider places a hand on Flykra’s cheek, the gesture speaking of a great bond and knowledge of one another which Astrophel respects, thinking of his own bond with Iska. Both pairs of white-blue eyes land on him, studying Astrophel in the same way he is studying them. A chill comes over him, though he tries to repress the shiver. He instead turns his discomfort into action, sliding down from his J’korun’s back.

[ What do you want? ] Flykra asks him, her teeth still showing, even if less so than before.

Her Rider also speaks, his voice softer than that of his mount. “Why have you come here?”

“We came to Kildangan after chasing the tales we found in a forgotten journal,” Astrophel summarizes. “We have come to Greystones to meet with you, seeing as we may have more in common than not.”

“What would you have in common with me?” The Rider asks.

“We both have bonded with the apex predators present in our lives. We know what it means to care for a dangerous bond.” Astrophel considers the man before him. He appears to be roughly the same age as Astrophel, but there’s a few more lines around the Rider’s eyes - either from a difference in age, or a difference in squinting against the wind he must surely endure when riding a creature bound to the sky. “And we want what is best for our people.”

“Of that, you can be sure,” the Rider agrees. “What creatures have you bonded with that you speak of? I know it can’t be the J’korun squirming under your guidance.”

“We have hydrurgas,” Dionne says. “We come from the water, so they couldn’t follow us over land.”

“You come from the water?” The Rider asks.

“Islands,” Astrophel clarifies. “Our lives revolve around the bounty of the ocean and the call of the waves.”

“I see.”

“Is it likewise for you? Does the air speak to you?”

“If you mean the call to fly, I suppose you could consider it so. However, we as Riders bend to the element which lives in our chests. Thralkins have a great deal of hold over us. The bonds grip us tightly.” The Rider scans over Astrophel. “If your bond is as great, I do not know how you could go so long without your… hydru…”

“‘Urga,” Astrophel supplies. “Yes, it is painful, being this close and yet so far from the sea,” he points behind Flykra towards where they can hear the waves crash against rock. “But we have done it for the chance to meet you.”

“I couldn’t go that long without Flykra. I wouldn’t.”

“Even if it meant trying to meet a new group of people for peace?”

“Are we at war?” The Rider asks rhetorically. “We do not have to bargain for peace. We didn’t even know you existed.”

“That might not be entirely true,” Dionne offers.

The Rider’s attention snaps toward her. “What do you mean?”

“The journal… it mentioned the ‘enthralled kin’ who seemed - as best we could tell - to fly. It’s part of what prompted us to make the journey.”

“Why would you follow a bunch of words that you don’t understand half of to another place?”

Seri interjects herself, “Rider, they are just explaining…”

“You have a traveler’s heart, Seri. Sarenet saw to that. I’m only trying to understand why they came here of all places.” He turns back to Astrophel and Dionne. “Are your lands dying? Are you coming to settle?”

[ And why do you smell like magic? ] Flykra adds.

Astrophel clears his throat. “No, our lands aren’t dying. Our families are still there, but we wanted… needed to come here.”

“Why did you need to?”

Astrophel exchanges a glance with Dionne and she nods to him. “Our goddess told us to come.”

“Ah,” the Rider seems to accept this at face value. “What about your magic, then?”

“Not all of us have magic. I understand magic can be a tricky situation with you?”

“The mages think it means they should rule over everyone else. We have magic, however.” He sniffs. “Thralkins are magic. Our bonds hold magic. Our lands.” The Rider shakes his head. “Responsibility should be put first. That’s why Flykra and I have a nest out here, instead of deeper in Rhoyenn with the others.”

“Why’s that?”

The Rider’s cold eyes seem to stab into Astrophel. “I have to protect them.”

“But why just you? Why not live with each other and protect each other.”

“The Kahu has more responsibilities than most. I have to hold the border. Protect those who need protecting.”

“Like Kildangan,” Seri offers.

The Rider’s gaze softens. “Like Kildangan.” He points back the way they came, towards the port city and further. “The mages like living holed up in Farrah, but we’ve been warned. One day, their hunger will push against us, and we have to be ready.”

“What’s a kahu?” Astrophel asks, able to understand everything else.

“The Kahu is… well it’s like the king or queen. They’re the alpha. The first. The preeminent Thralkin for a generation. It becomes their job… their duty to protect the others, and Rhoyenn as a whole.”

“I thought Rhoyenn was a place. Why does it seem like sometimes you make it out to be more?” Dionne asks.

“It is more. To us.” The Rider tips his head to the side. “Rhoyenn is as much alive as you or me. It may look like a region, but it will fight back as much as I would.”

Flykra shifts her weight, climbing to her feet. [ I grow tired of this conversation. ]

Dionne laughs nervously and Astrophel feels a small smile creep up on him. If Iska could talk, I’m sure she would have strong opinions as well. “We won’t take more of your time,” he says.

[ Good. ] Flykra turns and walks off, her gait spread out between walking on her four feet as well as, to Astrophel’s surprise, her wing joints. Her tail banners out behind her as she leaves.

Her Rider watches her go, a fond smile on his face. He catches Astrophel watching him and shrugs, “Sometimes they need a break, even from us. I’ll be with her again shortly.” His hand falls casually upon a sword hilt, which draws Astrophel’s attention.

“You fight?”

The Rider glances downat his sword, as if remembering it’s there, “Of course. One must know how to fight both on Thralkin-back, and on our own two feet. You never know what will happen.”

“A good assessment,” Astrophel agrees. “I also favor swords.”

“You fight, then?”

“We all do. Those of us who do gain magic do so later. We have to know the art of combat regardless. Magic is a supplement, not a replacement.”

The Rider nods approval. “Perhaps we do have more in common than I thought.” A gentle roar fades toward them from over the ridge where Flykra went. Her Rider turns his head that way and is quiet for a moment, but a smile forms on his face. To Astrophel, he says, “I will claim no hold over you or your people. Not while you stand so closely aligned to the Mages who have threatened us. But I do not offer you war either.” He holds out a hand to Astrophel, “May your journey here be fruitful and your sword be sharp.”

Astrophel clasps his arm, “Thank you; fly well.”

The Rider nods to Dionne and Seri and stalks off toward the jagged grey stones peeking at them from the coast. It doesn’t quite feel like an offer of friendship, but it also doesn’t feel too much like a door was slammed shut in their faces, so Astrophel counts that as a win.

Seri offers him a bright smile, “That went well.”

Dionne laughs, “As well as a ship plunging through a towering wave.”

Seri appears startled at the comparison, but Astrophel reassures her. “Yes, it went well enough. We have no new enemies, and that is a start.”

“You still have to deal with the mages learning about you,” Seri reminds him.

Astrophel clambours back onto his J’korun, turning Tore eastward with a sigh, “Yes. Vance has already churned those waters for us. Let’s hope the storm breaks out at sea instead of pulling us under.”

“Back to Kildangan?” Dionne asks.

“For now.” Astrophel offers her his hand, which she takes, urging Skai close enough to Tore that they can ride together. Seri falls in with them, and they ride back toward their people three-abreast.