by B C Penling
“Warisai,” growled Zen.
“Yes, it was them,” Thalassinus confirmed, nodding his head sadly. “She was a very kind soul. One we shall all miss greatly, me especially.”
After a pause, he continued. “From beneath the surface, your boat looked precisely the same as the one the Warisai were sailing, which also looks like many ships from Port Eyzin. Assuming that the ship was that of the Warisai, a couple of my kind attacked it to avenge the death of my mate, my love. Unfortunately and with much regret, it wasn’t the right ship. They had gotten away. My mate’s blessing gave them haste and they ended her life.” He looked at the sand after he finished. Zen saw a glimmer of sadness in his emerald eyes before he turned to face the sea.
Zen and Lana looked at each other empathetically. The Warisai’s slaughter was effortless and grossly unjust. The murder of Thalassinus’s mate Oshani was as unnecessary as the mass slayings preceding it. A venomous hatred effervesced within them. Thalassinus’s actions made more sense. Losing Oshani was difficult enough and after losing the Septum, too, it was too much for him.
“Sunwake has started her trek across the sky and we should begin ours to Port Eyzin.” Thalassinus shifted closer to Zen and Lana. “Climb onto my back. It might not be a completely dry ride but a swift one I assure you.”
Zen helped Lana onto Thalassinus’s back and followed her as smoothly as he possibly could. If he had only the bite wounds he could’ve managed well enough but his broken wing made it much more difficult and painful. It quivered beside him, bones fractured in multiple locations. He used his tail to support the limp wing while agonizingly climbing onto Thalassinus’s back. He breathed deeply trying to manage the pain as it throbbed throughout his wing.
“I’m so sorry, Zen,” Lana consoled.
“There’s nothing for you to be sorry for,” he replied.
“Here, take this.” Thalassinus lowered his head to his stubby front leg and pulled off a large chunk of green from under his neck. “Eat it. It’ll help your pain a little.”
“Ew, I’m not going to eat you,” Zen said, flustered.
“It’s just algae,” Thalassinus held out the clump. Within it were small, iridescent spheres that were fascinating to look at but not at all appetizing.
“I dare not ask what those things are,” Zen commented. He put it in his mouth, glanced at Thalassinus with disgust, then tossed his head back and swallowed it with a grimace.
“Glimmering snapshell snails,” Thalassinus answered. “They are a mild pain reliever.”
“That’s exactly why I didn’t ask,” Zen murmured. “But, thanks. I think.”
Thalassinus turned to the men and addressed them. “Are you three staying here?” They were standing on the beach aimlessly, staring at the trio. “Last chance,” Thalassinus chimed. “If you don’t want to be stranded here, I suggest you get on.”
They looked at each other before slowly walking to the riotinan’s side and helping each other onto his back, their faces pallor with misgivings.
An ocean surge filled the crescent-shaped bay and gathered around Thalassinus. When it was deep enough for him to become buoyant, he swam into deeper waters. He kept only half of his body submerged as his enormous tail began to drive them forward and out to sea.
The surface of the Midisian Sea, the ocean that separated Genetricis and Ancienta, was smooth as they headed south along the coast of Ancienta. Thalassinus swam at twice the speed of the fastest ship and by midday the long docks of Port Eyzin were in view. The harbor personnel unloading freight took notice of them; stopping what they were doing to stare at them.
Thalassinus slowed his speed and stopped beside a dock past where the large ships moored. The men slid from his back, thankful to be home again.
Lana paused, unsure whether they should be there or not. It was unfamiliar territory to her and made her feel uneasy. Unlike Meridsani, this place lacked the warmth of welcome. She felt that Barator could help Zen better than anyone else; and was the better choice in her opinion.
“I’m not so sure about this place, Zen,” she commented quietly. “Look at how unhappy everyone is.”
“Yes, I noticed,” he replied. “It’s hard not to.”
“That might be our fault, us riotinans,” Thalassinus said. “Since we sank one of their ships.”
“I don’t like it,” Lana said. “Can’t we go back to Meridsani?”
“I’m not against it, Lana,” Zen admitted. “I’m hurting, though. I want somewhere to rest.”
“If you both happen to decide you need to move elsewhere, just call my name by the shore,” Thalassinus said. “I will be able to hear you, Lana, if you need me. I’ll take you wherever you need.” The seriousness in his expression implied to her that it was because of the Septum. She didn’t want to pry in case it brought unnecessary attention, something he told her to avoid.
“Thank you, Thalassinus,” she said. “It means a lot to me.”
“Us,” Zen chimed. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” he said. “You wouldn’t have been in such a predicament had I been of proper judgment. This is the least I can do. If you need additional assistance, I’m happy to help.”
Lana hopped onto the dock and thanked Thalassinus again. “Also, I’m sorry for Oshani. My heart pains for your loss.”
Thalassinus nodded his head, sorrow filled his eyes but he didn’t speak. He looked at her, unfocused, as if he was reminiscing of days past, of happy times and a love now lost.
Zen cradled his wing with his tail the best he could and slowly slipped onto the dock. The dock was sturdily built with wide, thick lumber that could withstand the force of the sea and the weight of cargo that was transported on top of it. It was able to hold Zen’s bulk without complaint.
“Once again, I must apologize,” Thalassinus said. “I hope you mend well and soon soar upon the winds again."
Zen nodded, wincing with pain but still managing to smile. “I can only hope. My heart yearns for the sky.”
“You two take care of each other,” Thalassinus said. “The lord here will be accommodating but if you need me, call for me. Farewell, my friends.”
He turned around and headed out to deeper waters. Once past the ships, he dove beneath the surface and disappeared from sight. With his absence, Lana was made aware of the audience that had congregated along the shore. They were staring at Zen with neither fear nor hostility but with curiosity and awe.
Lana spoke up, breaking the silence. “Is there a wagon or sling we could use for his wing?”
The crowd looked at each other, searching for someone with an answer. Someone had anticipated Zen's need and, a few moments later, a group of men came through the crowd dragging a scrap of old sail from a ship.
Lana and Zen recognized the tallest man as one they had rescued. The men laid it beside Zen and cut a notch so it could fit around the base of his wing at the shoulder. They cut ribbons into the same side and the man Zen had saved told him to lie down. With agony, he did and moved his tail from beneath his wing. The man then carefully moved between Zen’s wing and body and lifted the sail as high as he could.
“Hold it, please,” he said. “I’ll climb up and secure it then.”
Zen reached back and took a piece in his mouth, holding it until the man was on his back. The man took it from Zen and tied the sail around his spikes. He then instructed Zen to lift the other side of the sail and bring it to him so he could secure it. Zen lifted it with his mouth. Pain shot through his wing as he raised it but he persevered and held it until the man cut the ribbons and tied it around Zen’s spikes. His wing settled into the sling, not without pain but it was better than nothing. He thanked the man.
He twisted his face in disbelief. “You did your best to save me. It’s I who should be thanking you.”
He turned on his heel and waved for them to follow. The crowd parted, allowing them to find the stone pathway beyond. They followed the man up a wide roadway that ended with them coming to a
tall gateway with two guards lazily chatting with each other until they saw Zen.
"That brute is not allowed to enter these grounds,” one guard shouted, pointing his finger.
Zen rolled his eyes. “Your lord is expecting us. And if I was a brute, you’d be nothing but ashes by now.”
"You speak?” the second guard asked.
“Obviously, you dimwit,” the first guard hissed.
“Please, can we see your lord,” Lana pleaded.
“None shall pass into the grounds of Eyzin Manor,” the first guard began stiffly.
“Unless they have approval,” someone interrupted.
He rode down a side street on a large palomino stallion with a long, full mane and tail that were as white as an aspen’s bark. The horse arched his neck proudly, holding his head high, and carried himself with a lofty prance. On his forehead was a star with three points, the only white on his rich golden body. The rider’s nobility was obvious from the mount he rode and the attire he wore; scarlet tunic and a black cloak with gold trim.
“What is this all about?” he asked the guard.
“Please, sir, the lord of Port Eyzin is expecting us,” Lana said quickly.
A faint smile showed and he rubbed his beard. “Yes,” he said. “I have been. I am Lord Orderic and I welcome you to Port Eyzin. Come. Let’s get you settled. Rufier, let them pass.” He waved his hand dismissively.
The guards stepped away from the archway obediently. Lord Orderic gestured for them to pass through first. The palomino eyed Zen nervously but didn’t act up. He kept his proud prance and high head set and followed them beneath the arch and into the courtyard of a large stone multistory house of four floors. Its roof was gabled and six brick chimneys protruded from it. The house had lattice work attached in some areas that allowed for creeping plants to climb. The courtyard was pristinely kept. White statues of horses stood out against green shrubbery that was neatly trimmed. It was very clean. Not a single twig or leaf littered the grounds.
“I got word of your arrival from the dock master,” Lord Orderic said. He trotted his horse to be level with Lana. “Most unfortunate occurrence, dragon, but we will do our bests to aid you. What the dock master didn’t know was your names.”
“I’m Lana of Arbortown,” Lana replied, curtsying shallowly. “And this is Zen. He’s like a brother to me.”
“An odd pair,” Lord Orderic said. “How’d you meet?”
“He saved me,” Lana replied, “after my family was killed. We’ve been together ever since. He’s all I have.”
“My apologies, Lana,” Lord Orderic said empathetically. “You’ll find my house a suitable residence for as long as you need. Zen, I’m sorry I have nothing larger than the stables to fit your size but you’ll be able to rest for as long as you wish. I was just returning from requesting Port Eyzin's best healers to tend your wounds."
They rounded the backside of the house. Slender white logs signified the perimeter fence of an arena roughly two-hundred feet wide and three-hundred feet long, if Lana had to guess. Beside it was a stone building that matched the house but was half the height. On the sunwake side of the stable were numerous paddocks for Orderic’s horses to graze.
Stone statues of rearing horses were on either side of the entry and beside them were thick oak hitching posts. Lord Orderic stopped beside one and swung his leg over the cantle, dismounting fluidly. A stable boy rushed out and took the palomino’s reins, all the while gawking at Zen.
“Turn Rosso out in the arena, Lox,” Orderic said.
“Yes, my lord,” Lox replied.
He hastily unsaddled Rosso and draped the saddle on a saddle rack before leading the large horse to the arena gate. He led him through and slipped off his bridle. After Lox pat him and shut the gate, Rosso spun around and took off at a gallop. He circled the arena at full speed a few times, kicking up his heels as he went and whinnying. Lana watched the beauty of his movements as his hooves thundered against the ground. He was by far the fastest horse Lana had ever seen.
“Lana,” Lord Orderic said, drawing her attention away from Rosso. “Come in. Come in. Tour my stables. I have many horses here if you wish to ride any. All you need to do is ask. I trust you know how to ride?”
Lana nodded, stepping into the stable’s breezeway. “Thank you. I wouldn’t mind going for a ride. Are all your horses as fast as Rosso?”
“No, no, no,” Lord Orderic replied. “He is the fastest horse I’ve ever owned. And I’ve owned many. He’s my prized stallion. You can see his offspring in the paddocks. All of them are golden like him. They’re beauties, every one of them. Feel free to brush and pet them. They love attention.” He turned his attention to Zen. “Now Zen, come on inside and get comfortable. I had my stable hands spread some bedding for you. I do hope it’s comfortable enough.”
“Thank you,” Zen replied.
He ducked through the opening and into the stables. There were bales of rice straw stacked on either side of the opening and beside one of the shorter stacks was a heap of straw the stable hands had prepped for him. He gently lay down on the pile and sighed with relief.
“This feels much better.” He rested his head on the floor and closed his eyes.
Lana looked around. There were a number of large stalls that ran the length of the building. The stalls were made of a dark wood and each stall had a hinged door with a metal frame. From the metal frame were links of chain that connected worn horseshoes to one another in various patterns; each one was unique. Beside each gate were placards with names on it; the largest stall in the corner belonged to Rosso. All the stalls were empty though; their horses put out to pasture so the stable hands could clean the stalls and refresh the bedding.
Three women walked into the stables, each noticeably different than the others. One had fair skin and blonde hair with a figure of a birch tree, tall and slender. The second one who entered had a darker complexion with dark hair with green eyes; she was stoutly built with a personality to match her physique, robust. The third one who entered was dark like twilight and just as demure and beautiful; her hair was light brown along with her eyes. She presented herself as approachable and wore a smile that the blonde couldn’t conjure. Behind her was a black horse that pulled a small wagon full of supplies.
“Ah, Aalish, Elena, and Mellowney,” the lord greeted them individually. “This is Zen. He’s had a most unusual accident and needs his wing mended. I do hope you three can manage.”
“We’ll certainly attempt to,” Aalish said seriously, her face matter-of-fact.
“Absolutely,” Elena, the black-haired healer, said confidently.
“We’ll try,” Mellowney said sedately with a kind smile.
“Very well then, get to work,” Orderic said, clapping his hands together. “I want the best work done. He has to fly if he is to fully live. Let the stable boy know if you need anything additional to what you’ve brought and he will fetch it for you.”
Lana watched the healers quickly examine Zen with quiet mouths, gentle hands, and intent eyes. As they worked, each one took turns fetching items from their wagon. They tended his bite wounds quickly; removing the kelp that had nearly lost its iridescent glow and replacing it with a poultice. Then, they set to work on his wing. First they took it out of the sling to examine the fracture locations; palpating each one before marking the angle of the break with chalk.
“Unfortunately,” Aalish, the blonde, said. “There is a lot of damage near the joints. The humerus is broken close to where it joins the ulna and radius. They appeared to be fractured as well and the phalanges have dislocated from your joint here and here.” She pointed to the first and second joints away from his shoulder. “They could also be fractured but at this time, with all the swelling, I cannot be certain. However, based on what I can tell, and speculating there are also tendon and ligament injuries, I’m doubtful you’ll fly again.”
Zen’s heart sank faster than freefall, as did Lana’s, upon hearing that dreadful diagnosis.
What good is a dragon that can’t fly?
“I believe there’s still hope for healing, though,” Elena chimed in. “You just have to behave and let it heal.”
“It might take a while, dragon,” Mellowney said with a smile. “But I think you’ll soar in the skies again.”
Lana was too upset to speak after seeing the look of despair on Zen’s face and was on the verge of tears.
The healers manipulated his wing as gently as they could and measured each bone. They sent Lox to give the measurements to the metalsmith who would fabricate rods to splint his wing. They spent the next couple hours waiting for their completion and while they waited, they improved the sling the men had made from the old ship sail.
A couple hours later the rods were delivered by the smith who seemed quite fond of Zen. He padded the rods and helped hold them against Zen’s bones while the healers worked to fasten it to the wing the best they could. They used a knife to cut small holes in his wing membrane so they could thread through a strong, thick sinew that would hold the rod in place. The humerus, radius, and ulna were secured and after some manipulation around the first and second wing joints, they relocated the phalanges. They then tucked his wing to his side and hoisted it gently into the sling. Afterwards, they wrapped ropes lightly around the sling and his body to prevent it from shifting outward. They fed him a disgusting tasting herbal remedy, indicated they’d be back daily to check up on him, and then departed quietly.
“It feels much better already,” Zen commented.
“I hope it mends well,” Orderic said. “You may stay here as long as you need. My home and lands are open for you to roam as you please. I’ll have my men bring you food at your request. Hearty meals help healing, my father always said. As for you, Lana, come, let’s get you settled inside.”
Lana hesitated, looking at Zen. He nodded to her and motioned with his hand to go. She smiled meekly and followed Orderic to the manor.
