For once, her escape had been swift enough.
The Windrider gradually slowed down to her equivalent of casual stroll, relaxing from flying faster than all terrestrial beings ran to only flying faster than most of them could run. Her body was used to so much more than this, velocities which could kill many lesser creatures on their own from sheer inertia.
Alas, her age would only let itself be temporarily overlooked, but never forgotten.
Despite her relatively sluggish flight, she was still making progress towards the next stop on her journey, and it was all that mattered. Or at the very least, all she knew she should’ve been focusing on, on the mere fact of progress instead of fretting about its exact pace.
Easier said than done.
...
Blast it.
The low thrum that left the dragon’s throat went unheard above the calm waters, not a single fellow flier sharing the afternoon sky nearby. She thought she had remembered the direction to take, that her long sharpened sense of place in the world would let her find her way without any aid.
And yet, she wavered, gradually stopping in the middle of the vast ocean.
She wasn’t doomed, nowhere near. Even if she were to become truly lost, her return would merely be delayed until she made it to shore somewhere and then followed along with it. And that was the worst-case scenario.
Latch’s foresight made sure of that.
Once the Windrider had stopped, she opened the thick canvas bag affixed to her red wings, telekinesis ruffling through the assorted junk until she’d pulled out a small, metal item. She may have been living amongst the people of Golden Sky for over a century by now, and yet she felt no less distant from them and their inventions of brass and iron.
If not for her and one of their greatest tinkerers having taken a liking to each other, she would’ve probably long since left them for good.
Even despite the accomplishment she thanked them the most for.
Shaking that thought aside, the dragon thought back to her friend’s instructions on how to use the supposed navigational tool. Two needles spun freely in a circular brass chassis, moving through a dense forest of unfamiliar symbols.
The red, iron one always pointed south, a feat accomplished though means beyond the Windrider’s comprehension. The green, silver one, however, pointed to a beacon at the location Latch had specifically arranged for to be her resting spot on her way back.
It was a provision the dragon was simultaneously deeply grateful for, and equally worried by.
Was her diminishing strength that easy to sense?
The remainder of her journey towards her resting spot for the night was spent in annoyed silence, verbal and mental alike. She ignored her body’s complaints, forcing them silent despite their best efforts.
She hadn’t even crossed into her sixteenth century yet, she couldn’t let herself be overtaken by such annoyances.
And so, she raced on, chill air staining her down with salt as she passed by any onlookers in a red and white blur, much too fast for most to even react to before she was long gone.
Her destination was almost too small to even be called an island.
It wasn’t just small enough for her to run circles around, but even for most terrestrial beings, she imagined. A tower of stone and brass took up a non-insignificant part of it, housing the beacon that had beckoned her over, as well as its singular maintainer. Surrounding it was a grove of trees small enough for one to see the base of the tower from the shore.
Beyond that, only the unending ocean.
The mere existence of this structure so far from land baffled the dragon greatly. She’d listened to Latch’s explanations of sea and air routes, of using these so-called beacons as safe refuges amongst the waves and as jumping-off points to more exploration, but none of it really stuck.
It felt useless to her, and perhaps even cruel to the sole person forced to stay here and maintain the device in solitude. She’d also heard something about these positions being voluntary, though, so maybe it wasn’t as evil as it seemed?
Suppose it only made sense to ask Latch about that once she’d returned.
Following the custom of this wider culture, the dragon knocked on the door with a modest application of telekinesis, her physical paws far too short to reach. The building remained silent as a grave; the shimmer of calm waves washing against the shore was the only sound gracing her ears-
"Greetings."
The sheer startle made her fly near the top of the beacon as her hide erased her from sight before she could even consciously react; lungs slowly taking in air as she descended and examined the island’s occupant.
She almost never encountered creatures truly new to her anymore, not after having circumnavigated the globe so many times. This case was no exception. Though, the only other times she’d seen this particular kin be depicted or described were as harbingers of death, otherworldly beings that killed with a single touch.
Probably wouldn’t have to worry about being touched with her swiftness.
“^I greet thou in peace, specter.^”
Their singular red eye focused on her just as much as it focused on everything else nearby, what amounted to their expression unchanging. She didn’t suspect them of being particularly emotive, either. Their head’s light gray matched the color of their raised collar, giving way to a darker body underneath. The yellow stripes across their body glowed dimly, with only the pale light emitted by the round protrusion on the top of their head being really noticeable.
"Our guest?"
“^That is indeed true, specter, but not by mine will.^”
Their head slowly nodded before they turned their bulky body towards the entrance to the beacon’s tower, continuing shortly after.
"Inside, freshwater. Provisions. Firm ground. If questions, us answer. We ‘Sun of Great Beyond’. You?"
Once more, silence returned to the scene, the dragon’s expression remaining perfectly flat as her golden eyes scanned the area. They didn’t take too long to understand the message. Eventually, the ghost turned around, about to return to their previous spot, before hearing the dragon’s telepathic voice again.
“^Answer me such, Sun of Great Beyond. Dost thee not grow somber by loneliness?^”
Their silence was short-lived, answer echoing through the dragon’s mind as they hovered away, phasing through the golden sand.
"Not alone."
The ghost’s answer provided a quandary, but one the dragon was hardly interested in pondering deeply over. A simple press of the brass handle opened the way into the beacon’s tower; the mechanism whined as if it hadn’t been used in decades.
Inside, as was promised, was a sealed box of provisions. Among its contents were an eagerly downed wooden bottle of water and several smaller meals. Golden Sky’s customary flat bread, sugared Lum preserve, and salted soybean curds in thick, peppery sauce.
Off-putting as their culture and people might have been, she couldn’t deny them their culinary sophistication. Even if she wished their creations would be less… intensely flavored.
*ring, ring-ring*
Oh?
The high-pitched chime coming from the tiny pier made the Windrider turn around on the spot, spotting a hardly unfamiliar sight rearing from the waters. In most places, the blue-red jelly kin were known as nuisance at best, and ocean’s malice made manifest at worst. Under the Golden Sky’s reach, they were kelp harvesters, medicine providers, or simply marine couriers.
The latter seemed to be the case here.
A gray tentacle was lowering a small, brass capsule into the basket affixed to a small bell at the end of the pier when the rest of the creature had spotted her. Instead, the creature floated closer, flashing the red orbs on top of their body to catch the dragon’s attention as they held the capsule high in the air for her to reach.
With a quick telekinetic grab, she received the package, hovering it in front of herself afterwards.
A wordless exchange of nods later, the courier descended back under the waters again. The Windrider watched the faint red light fade away with distance as the jellyfish followed the guidance of a thick rope attached underwater to the pier’s end, connecting the tiny island with the nearest landmass.
Unsure what to do with it, the dragon floated back inside the beacon, intending to leave the small capsule for Sun of Great Beyond to read once they had returned. As she was placing it down, though, she took notice of the recipient field, a single symbol engraved in soft wax.
Latch’s nickname for her.
Taken aback, the dragon slowly worked the capsule open, breaking its wax seal before unscrewing both halves apart. Inside, a single tightly rolled sheet of the most common writing medium in Golden Sky, a dry paper made of seaweed that always felt more fragile than it actually was.
As far as the Windrider was considered, the only reason these people stuck to it was because of the lack of a suitable alternative.
With the message taken out, she dumped all the metal parts into a large basket in the chamber's corner. One day, they would be transported back to Golden Sky and smelted to be reused in perpetuity, but the dragon neither knew nor cared about that.
At last, she unrolled the small page, the Golden Sky’s emblem taking up a hefty chunk of it. Combined symbol of its ever conflicted twin deities, their inherent strife giving way to ingenuity, creativity, and invention, at least as far as the civilization folklore was considered.
Outer ring of solid gold, symbolizing Chaos.
Three silver stripes inside it, symbolizing Order.
The medium didn’t convey their colors, but the iconography was so common inside the brilliant city that her mind had filled in the blanks. Underneath the grand seal, the words written in rushed, messy cursive.
V,
Assuming I planned it correctly, you’ll get this at your rest on East Edge Islet! No worries if not, sadly I’ll get to tell you everything in person, anyway.
Expedition was delayed!!
Aggravating beyond words. Sages mumbled something about The Twins being in particularly harsh conflict lately and some more of their usual vague warnings. Can’t care less, but the bookkeepers do and so another week to go. Just in time for you to get back!
I know you didn’t want to go, you were clear enough about that, but another thing happened! Which I can’t tell you about here! If we were to leave at our original date, I would’ve told you because you would really want to know but if the bookkeepers found out, they would have me buried in salt and I’m not risking that if I’m leaving late and can just tell you in person!
Just know that it’s something VERY important and something you will want to know about! But not as important as to have you skip your rest to fly over here! Not urgent! Important, not urgent! Eat, rest, take as much time as you need V. The news will be waiting for you when you arrive!
I hope your pilgrimage hasn’t had any more obstacles than usual!
Missing you dearly,
Great Latch of the Utmost Grand Gate
