Dust hovered like a snow globe in denial: too heavy to float, too proud to fall. The office air was thick with stale smoke. A rank sweat glistened on the forehead of the gaunt man behind the desk, fingers twitching at his cuffs, crimson gems glistening. He was the kind of rich who showed his wealth through expensive apparel. He wanted to be the kind of rich who showed his wealth on his gut.

Geothermal flames smoldered inside a chamber to his back, chiseled brick giving way to polished slate. While the green-tinted embers added the perfect eerie glow, the weather made even a light coat unnecessary. Heat waves distorted the air around him.

Malric leaned forward, using the desk to support his weight. A bead of sweat dripped from the end of a misshapen lump on the front of his nose and landed on his hand. He pretended not to notice, that was half of being a politician anyway. “No unnecessary stops on the way. You will meet the transport team near the Southwestern Edge. Is that simple enough?”

A figure slumped in the chair, partially obscured by shadow. They let out a sigh as they turned their attention to the sweaty man in front of them. “How do you do it?”

His face shifted through a variety of emotions: dumbfounded, frustrated, confused, before finally settling into a defeated slump. He spoke with a hint of hesitation. “Do what?”

The figure leaned forward, leather boots thumping on the ground. The emerald firelight danced across their face, unveiling soft cheeks framed in dense brown waves, frizzled by the heat.

“Any of this! It’s so damn hot!” She swung her arm out, gesturing around the room. “You’re wearing at least three layers. I would worry about heat stroke if I were you-”

Malric slammed a hand down on the desk, jostling a parcel sitting in the center. If time slowed down, she would have noticed the brief moment of worry as Malric glanced at the package. Alas, she couldn’t slow time and, therefore, was none-the-wiser.

He glared down at her like a disapproving parent, the kind who forgets birthdays, spits your name like a curse, and still takes credit when you succeed. “Do you understand the instructions I’ve given you or not?”

She rolled her eyes and haphazardly grabbed the package, “Yes, I got it. Instead of using reliable, public transport out of the kingdom I need to hike my ass to the middle of nowhere.”

He groaned and dug the tips of his fingers into the hardwood desk. “I told you, this requires a level of discretion public eyes cannot provide. It will be simple.”

Gravel crunched underfoot, cutting through the memory like paper. The morning’s conversation echoed in her head as she continued through the rugged slopes. She questioned whether this would be worth the money, and why she hadn’t wondered that sooner. What good was getting out of debt if she didn’t live to enjoy it.

The path she was walking ended in a sheer drop, not ideal. She crawled on her hands and knees to assess the cliff. Peering over the edge she could confidently say that, scientifically speaking, she was sure it was enough to release her from her mortal coils. However, she decided she quite liked hanging on to those and inched back.

She weighed her options and settled on a narrower, more gradual slope. Far less likely to lead to death. Fortunately, she was correct in her judgement of the slope. Unfortunately, she was incorrect in her judgement of herself. She slipped with the grace of a drunken goat, gravity all too eager to help.

She opened her eyes to the empty sky. Her ears rang while her vision came into focus. For a moment, she was stuck on her back, gasping for air. A minute stretched into eternity before she was able to sit herself up. Stars danced in her vision, brighter than the midday sun.

Her brain throbbed against the back of her eyes. Jagged pebbles dug into her skin. A low, layered growl moved through the stone. Too alive to be thunder.

She had barely caught her breath before the force of a hundred men slammed into her chest, launching her into the rock wall. Panic flared. Was this it? Was she going to die halfway to a payday she barely agreed to?

She wheezed, choking on spit and blood, and blinked. Shadows became fur, teeth, and muscle; a silhouette beyond logic. Massive jaws expanded from dual hinges. She couldn’t manage a scream before another arm was barreling down on her. The air condensed, static clinging to her hair.

A large, wet crashing sound erupted then… nothing.

The silence that followed was louder than any ringing.

After a few seconds wondering why she wasn’t dead yet, she dared to open one eye. The beast, or what was left of it, had been impaled.

The entire core of its body was gone; a cleaner cut than the finest blades. Heat radiated from within, distorting the air.

Blood poured from the body into a crater that definitely hadn’t existed a moment ago. The stone glowed red, cooling into smooth, iridescent obsidian. Her vision faltered. She slumped forward, brain stuttering through the scene like a broken record.

As her eyes began to shut, she could’ve sworn she heard people talking.

“—over there—”

Blood sizzled against the stone.

***

Pink sunlight diffused through a curtain of green leaves, casting wavering shadows on the packed dirt floor. Wooden cots lined the walls. The scent of damp moss and something herbal filled the air. Soiled cloths and half-empty vials sat on the table next to the bed. She stepped outside, questioning whether she had actually died.

Bird songs fluttered through the air, harmonizing with the buzz of insects. A massive crater, easily the size of a village, brimmed with glassy water that teemed with life. Lily-like fronds swam more than floated, drifting alongside sleek silver serpents with frilled ruby fins. The air flowed with an energy that tingled across her skin.

Towering trunks with emerald canopies huddled the far side of the water. Trees? They didn’t just grow, they watched. They felt ancient. Revered. The gardens lacked the trimmed perfection of Tharavos’ plazas. These pulsed with life. It was imperfect. It was too perfect.

Nearly identical huts circled a small clearing of wood benches surrounding an unlit bonfire pit. Nearby, a crowd had formed, voices low but tense.

Their clothes were crafted of tanned leather and natural dyes. Though clearly handmade, they were expertly tailored.

“Why would you risk it?”

“A Tharovian could be dangerous.”

“She was in the path of our kill. It’s only right.”

“She was blessed.”

She tugged at her collar, the nerves threatening the contents of her stomach..

As she walked towards the group, each step fell like a drumbeat in the night. Children slowed their play in the meadow as she passed. The murmurs between the adults died down, each turning to her expectantly. .

“Hi, um… thanks for saving me. I really appreciate it, but… where am I?”

The group whispered inaudibly amongst themselves before a woman stepped forward. Her red curls shimmered like sunset streaks beneath rainclouds. She had the attitude of someone wise beyond her years, but smiled with the innocence of a child. Light amber eyes reflected golds unimaginable.

The woman was holding a bag in front of her like an offering. “Hello, I believe this is yours. I’m Thalira. I brought you here after you were attacked.”

Ryn reached for her bag. Thalira held on a moment too long, grip unwavering. Time froze. Her pulse spiked as their gaze locked. Thalira’s gold-dust eyes seemed to bore straight through her. At last, she let go, and the bag returned to its owner’s arms.

Ryn checked the contents, willing her body to settle.

The parcel was untouched. A shudder escaped with her breath.

She looked up, meeting the woman’s eyes again. “I’m Ryn. I’m sorry to cause any trouble.”

Ryn took a steadying breath, willing her body to settle. This place was strange, an oasis where there should be desolation. She would’ve remembered this on the map.

“Where exactly are we, though? I’ve never seen so many plants in one place.”

Thalira smiled warmly, “We are a small village near the edge. This land has been blessed by Valthuran for centuries. Would you like to come eat?” She motioned towards a hut near the treeline. The others scattered, tension dissipating as they left.

Ryn hesitated, feeling absolutely alone. She couldn’t tell if this was hospitality or a soft imprisonment.

The grumble of her gut pulled Ryn from her dread, propelling her forward without a word.

Ryn followed Thalira inside, wide-eyed at the lofted second story nestled above the rafters. Shelves of books and vials lined the walls, unfamiliar herbs hanging underneath. Warm air rolled from the kitchen. Food bubbled on the stove, rich aromas engulfing the room.

Thalira placed two wooden bowls on the table. Inside was a spiced grain and legume mixture that smelled like a home Ryn never knew. It was topped with a creamy, rich meat stew.

Thalira sat down, placing a loaf of bread on the table. She tore a chunk, crackling crust revealing a pillow-soft interior. Steam wafted through the air as she offered it to Ryn.

“Are you sure I can have this?” she asked, hope flooding her voice.

Thalira raised a brow. “Yes, please eat.”

Ryn stared down at her bowl and a nauseating feeling rushing over her. The excitement melded with fear. The warmth, the generosity felt foreign. Was this what safety felt like? Or just a clever disguise?

She wasn’t used to this. In Tharavos, a smile meant someone wanted something. Here, there was no price tag, and that felt worse.

A sharp pang in her gut pulled her back to the present. Steam curled into her nose, her mouth watering. She dug in, trying not to show her enthusiasm, but failing miserably.

Thalira had hoped to talk, but Ryn was too engrossed. She let her eat, picking bites from her own bowl.

Ryn finished the final bite and leaned back. They broke the silence in unison.

“S-”

“W-”

“Sorry-”

“Sorry-”

They both took a breath.

Finally, Thalira spoke again, “I’m sure you have questions.”

Ryn’s cheeks glowed, her words feeling like an accusation. “Yes, sorry. What is this place?”

“Our clan has lived here for centuries. This land was blessed by Valthuran through a pact with our ancestors. We are charged with protecting this place and honoring its sacrifice.” Thalira spoke with a confidence Ryn had never known.

That didn’t make sense. Ryn’s face twisted as she played with the pieces. “Sacrifice?”

Thalira’s fingers flexed as she bit back her anger. “Valthuran has provided its body for the benefit of humans. Tharavos would not exist if Valthuran willed it.”

She took a minute to slow down, a soothing comfort returning to her voice. “When the world’s creatures can live in harmony, all will flourish.”

The air buzzed around them.

Ryn froze, fighting back a nervous smile. She had heard of people worshipping Valthuran, but had never expected to meet any of them.

It didn’t make sense, though. Yes, Valthuran carries the kingdom of Tharavos on its back, but it was really no different than any other animal. Just really, really big. Scholars have long proven that it doesn’t even notice their existence. We’re inconsequential.

Here though, it almost felt real. The ground pulsed beneath her feet like a heartbeat reaching out.

These people have been blessed by Valthuran. It was a lot. Too much, really. Time snapped back into focus. She didn’t know what the parcel held, only that missing the deadline may mean more than just losing her job.

Ryn pulled out a crudely hand-drawn map of her destination. “I’m sorry, but do you happen to know where this is?”

Thalira took a few moments to study the map, nodding. “It’s not far. I can take you there, if you’d like.”

Relief surged through her like lightning. She might make it in time.

“Wonderful! Let’s go.”

Ryn stood, but a firm hand on her wrist guided her back into the chair. Her instinct was to flinch, but her body froze. It wasn’t pain that stopped her, it was the quiet authority in Thalira’s grip. The kind that didn’t allow resistance. Ryn stared at Thalira, unsure if she should be nervous but sure that she definitely was.

Thalira quickly adopted the warm smile again. “Sorry, I was just hoping you would answer a few questions for me before we leave.” Ryn suspected this wasn’t truly a request.

“Great, I’m just wondering where exactly you’re going.” Thalira eyed the stranger with suspicion. “Why are you out here instead of using more… traditional routes?”

Ryn’s eyes dropped to the table. Something gnawed at her thoughts. Nerves, or maybe fear. “I have a package that needs to be delivered to the mainland urgently,” she tried to come up with a good reason to not use the public airships but failed.

Ryn shifted nervously under Thalira’s stare, clutching the bag in her lap.

Thalira nodded slowly, finally filling the silence. “And do you know what this package is?” Her eyes pinned on Ryn’s bag, unwavering.

Ryn shook her head, still looking down, “Only that it’s important.”

Thalira’s jaw clenched when she said this, studying her a moment longer.

Her voice turned saccharine, almost too quick to be real.

“Well!” Thalira’s hands met with a sharp clap as she stood abruptly. Her gaze turned sharp, calculating. Like a mask snapping in place. “Let me start packing and we’ll be on our way!”

Ryn jumped at the sudden noise and watched Thalira start loading up a travel bag. “Packing…?” she echoed, her chest fluttering. Was this relief, or dread?

Thalira hummed a cheerful tune, but didn’t answer.

***

After a strange, stilted farewell, Thalira and Ryn left the lush sanctuary behind. They trudged through the grey mountainside, slate shattering like glass beneath their feet. A dry chill cut through the air, biting into the cliffside.

“Be careful on this slope. The gravel can make you lose footing.” Thalira stepped with confidence.

“Gee, that would suck.” Ryn kicked at the ground, knees throbbing to remind of her earlier fumble. How mortifying.

Navigating the crags proved easier with Thalira tagging along. They reached their destination as dusk began to fade. Ryn glanced at their surroundings. Her map wasn’t too bad. Then again, it’s not hard to draw rocks on rocks.

Three men awaited them: a wiry boy fidgeting with his packs, a lanky man with a permanent scowl, and a broad, surly brute who barreled forward the moment they approached.

“It’s about damn time you got here. You’re late. Damn near left without you! And who in the hell is this? Malric didn’t say nothing about two women.” Spit flew from the man's mouth as he spoke, allowing no time for breath.

Ryn held his gaze. His clothes were rugged but had the angular style of Orrivar. “I assume you’re our ride?” Men like him were always trying to feel important, never reaching it. Best to pay them no mind.

The man’s face turned shades of red and purple, growing increasingly annoyed at his current charges. “I was paid for one of ya. I only do what I’m paid for.”

Thalira took this moment to step forward and place a soft hand on his arm. “You can relax.”

The color drained from his face. He let out a soft sigh. Eyes dilated, he spoke in a trance. “I guess we can manage two of ya.” He paused, his voice regaining momentum as he refocused. “But it’s going to be a tight fit.”

He gave a sharp motion with his hand.

A beat.

Then,

The air exploded with the thunder of wings as three massive raptors descended, talons clinking on the rock. Each bird stood as tall as two men, their feathers shimmering like burnished armor in the dwindling light.

Ryn flinched as massive feathers filled her vision. Her head spun. For a heartbeat, it felt like the ground had vanished beneath her. A raptor’s cry ripped her back to the present.

“We’re taking vaeltryns? You guys don’t have an airship or anything?” She tried to catch her breath, but it slipped away like wind off the cliff.

“You got something against the classics? ‘Sides, flying an unregistered airship is askin’ for trouble. My boys’ll be flying back up to chase anyone off iffin we need, though.” He seemed partial to the animals, stroking the ash and black bird on the chin. It let out a deep, throaty purr.

Thalira stepped towards the dark amber-feathered one to the left and held out her hand.

The man interjected quickly, “I’d be careful. They don’t like strangers too much.” He trailed off, watching as the vaeltryn nuzzled into her hands expectantly and decided not to argue further.

“It will be okay Ryn.” Thalira returned to stand next to her. “We don’t seem to have much of a choice.”

The man nodded. “Choice is leavin’ whether you’re on or not.” The others mounted swiftly. All but the ash-colored bird took off, staying grounded for now.

Thalira slid into the saddle behind the man without hesitation and held a hand out for Ryn.

Glancing around, Ryn was suddenly aware it’d be dark. She’d be stranded in the middle of nowhere. Alone.

Rushing to the bird’s side, she scrambled into the saddle behind Thalira. Ryn’s knuckles turned white, heart pounding, as her arms wrapped around Thalira’s waist.

The wind screamed in her ears as the vaeltryn stepped toward the cliff’s edge.

“Name’s Dorran!” the man shouted over the roar.

The bird folded its wings and tipped forward, the ground vanishing from view.

Ryn opened her mouth to scream, but wind stole the sound from her throat.

***

Ryn’s stomach climbed into her throat as time slowed to a crawl.

This is my purgatory. I’ve died and been sentenced to an eternity falling through the void.

The slender bird shot through the sky like a torpedo. Suddenly, its wings snapped open with a jolt, catching the wind. They were gliding smoothly now.

Thank god.

As the roaring wind eased and the ringing in her ears faded, Ryn thought she heard… laughter?

“… your eyes!”

Ryn only caught the tail end of Thalira’s shout.

“WHAT?” Ryn shouted, maybe louder than intended.

Thalira tapped her arm. “Ryn, open your eyes! It’s amazing!”

Ryn tightened her grip on Thalira. “No thank you, I quite like my view right now.” She didn’t avoid dangerous situations, but she absolutely hated them.

Thalira’s voice softened. “Just look up. Trust me.”

Up?

She had absolutely no desire to look down, but maybe? With reluctance, Ryn tilted her head and cracked one eye open.

What she saw knocked the air from her lungs for the second time that day. Above them loomed the belly of Valthuran. She’d only ever seen the jagged slate shell where Tharavos resided, but this certainly wasn’t that.

This was something else entirely.

Gone were the rocky ridges. In their place stretched a shimmering, unfathomable void: an ever-evolving nebula of blacks, blues, and violets. It flickered in and out of perception, feeling real one second and illusion the next.

From the surface, Valthuran’s underside was rarely visible. The energy it radiated distorted sunlight itself, rendering it all but invisible to the untrained eye. But here, soaring in the gales underneath, it was beautiful.

Thalira broke the silence. “I can’t believe I finally got to see it…”

Ryn’s gaze shifted to Thalira. She was beaming.

“You knew it looked like this?”

She shook her head slowly, refusing to look away. “It’s talked about. We tell stories… but no one has seen it themselves. Some don’t even believe the stories anymore.”

She paused and muttered quietly, “Shows them…”

Suddenly, a piercing screech split the sky to their right.

The amber vaeltryn flailed past them, bleeding and riderless.

Ryn’s breath caught. She lurched forward, instinctively reaching for nothing. Thalira went rigid. A single amber feather spun toward her; ragged, bloodied, and tumbling like a fallen leaf. Ryn grabbed at it without thinking, but it slipped between her fingers, lost to the wind.

Before there was time to process it, the golden-feathered vaeltryn swooped in beside them.

Its rider shouted above the wind. “We’ve been intercepted! You need to go!”

What the hell is going on?

Without waiting for a reply, he peeled off, banking hard to the left. Three new riders burst from the clouds, streaking past the trio towards the fleeing bird.

Ryn tightened her grip, brain scrambling for answers in the roar of wind and fear. Were they the target, or just collateral?

Dorran’s expression hardened. He gripped the reins. “Hold on.”

Thalira clutched him tighter, voice urgent. “We can’t just leave them!”

He didn’t look back. “They must help themselves.”

“That makes no se-” she protested.

A bronze vaeltryn appeared, rider readying an attack.

Dorran interrupted sharply, “I said hold on!”

Their vaeltryn reared, wings flexing, then dove; plummeting to the earth.

Ryn held on for dear life. Her stomach protested, violently. She focused all her willpower on keeping it down.

Success was… relative.

Alexis Sears

Aspiring Mammal | Writor

--

1