FAR, FAR ABOVE HER head, in a vault vaster by far than anything she had ever imagined, stood a globe of darkness haloed by azure radiance, a natty sliver of which arced clearly over the top. That sliver was so brilliant it hurt her eyes to gaze upon it, yet she could not look away. Her antennae prickled madly as she took in every detail. Middlesun itself! What a thrill! Across its surface, like the ultra-slow wipe of an eyelid from top to bottom, she witnessed something living, seething, migrating, slowly revealing more and more of the brilliance of sunrise.
Allory gasped, “Whaaa – whooo?”
“Only on the dawn of the seven thousandth day, and only in this season, can you see the Shyraiama Dragons journeying around Middlesun,” Yaarah whispered, clearly every bit as overawed as she was. “In their eternal cycle, it is they who bring us night and day, shrrr-frrt. So many billions in number is the swarm, they obscure the very surface of the sun itself, yet we can observe the ripple of their movement, not so? I had completely forgotten that today was the day. This is a mighty portent.”
She did not ask what sort of portent, for his intent in stating this could not be clearer. Instead, Allory craned her neck unashamedly, awash in wonder. Middlesun indeed! Source of life and light to Spheris. This was so far beyond incredible, her entire being yearned toward it, toward the warm gleam that spread across her skin as the Shyraiama Dragons gracefully drew back the veil of night, and daybreak followed apace, the great skyfires filling the vaulting space with an uncontainable fury of brilliance. The sensation was so consuming that Allory clutched his fur even tighter, afeared of the illusion of upward-floating movement. Then, her eye dropped to trace the withdrawal of shadow across the unending sea of treetops that stretched out to the very limit of her vision.
All the reality of the world’s vastness struck her at once.
Incredible.
She wanted to look yet feared it more than anything. Trapped, paralysed by the crushing immensity of this boundless space she found herself in, the Scintillant Fae could only wheeze, “Hnnnnhhh …”
“Peace. Breathe deep, little Faerie,” he purred. “Keep holding on tight. I’m here, trrr-purrr.”
Her fingers and toes could not possibly release their grip. Ever.
“Hnnn … ah, hnnnhhh.” The imperative for breath fought the cords that bound her chest and throat. Why had she done this? Why? Blackness crowded closer and closer about her vision, yet she willed the desire to see to win out, to be stronger than anything her pathetic body could possibly inflict upon her.
Death was unimaginable, stronger than any force she knew, but she chose life.
Look again. I … I never imagined … I must look farther!
That, or she would expire from the grief that gripped her soul.
To every horizon, the sphere of the world curved higher and higher until it reached infinity. She knew in theory that Middlesun stood in the middle of the world, that the jungles and landmasses and oceans wholly enclosed it, but this … it was too much. It was so mesmerising, she could not tear her eyes off the phenomenon. This was Centresky. Endless, depthless, infinite blue. Somewhere far beyond the limits of her sight lay another part of this world, where other unimaginable creatures also lived their lives, sheltering beneath boughs or perhaps racing across open grasslands? Hazy ideas, to be sure. Below Middlesun, in her range of sight, myriad treetops waved in a gentle breeze. How could there be so many trees in all the world, so many variegated nuances of that basic burgundy she thought she had known so well?
How tiny was she in comparison to all this?
Allory gulped several rapid-fire breaths. There. Better. She remained alive, yet the anxiety lurked, gripping her ribcage like a Dragon’s fist, relentless and inescapable.
A wind redolent of faraway realms and undreamt-of mysteries ruffled her hair. She tried to breathe deeper, to take it in somehow, but her throat closed steadily nonetheless, a sensation like monstrous hands creeping about her neck, squeezing tighter and tighter. They hung in nothingness. There was … nothing … so much nothing all around her it became a prodigious, devastating something … for dread overruled her soul, the sure knowledge that she must die of exposure out here …
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“Fur and fangs, that must be our cluster of Sentinel Trees over there,” Yaarah interjected, pointing with his left wingtip. “Astonishing, hrrr-prrrt?”
Her eyes seized upon the Sentinels like a drowning person spying a chance for survival. Real, tangible things. Allory imagined hugging a tree, her face pressing against comforting solidity. Suggids! Truly the epitome of bravery – but the trick helped, at least for a breath or two.
Viewed from this distance and at this height, the grove of maybe a dozen dusky-pink trunks struck her as impossibly slender, rising at least another mile above the jungles before breaking into what appeared to be enormous bulbous flowers that unfurled even as she watched, exposing their hearts to Middlesun. Below the petals hung groups of great white ovoids, dangling like clusters of fruit beneath the flower. Were those plant organs that served some purpose she could not fathom? Her wondering gaze leaped to another Sentinel grove many miles away, and to another, another and another, all opening in sequence to drink deep of the uncontainable torrents of sunlight as the shadow swept inexorably onward and a new day was born.
At last, Allory gazed upward again despite the spots dancing in front of her eyes, drinking in the wonder of Dragons who chased day into night, and night into day. What were they like? Did they serve Middlesun or rely upon its power for sustenance, perhaps like these Sentinels? What function did the majestic trees serve, drinking so deep of that ineffable blue light? How far away could the other side of the sphere be? Far, far beyond her sight, of that she had no doubt. What was outside the sphere? How had a sun come to reside within?
“Remember to breathe, it helps,” her companion chuckled.
“Trying. Oh, Yaarah! Hnnnn – uh, thank you, thank you … hnnn-heee … phew, I’m getting there. I won’t faint this time, I promise. Apart from those dark blotches, I see pink spots in front of my eyes – over there?”
The Felidragon’s wingbeat lurched immediately. “Uh-oh, krrr-trrrt! That would be trouble incoming. Well spotted, Allory.”
“Trouble?”
“Hyperdragons, so named because of their outstanding speed of flight.”
“Eep …”
“As in, they fly faster than the speed of sound and would be foremost among a number of compelling and exciting reasons why so few creatures dare to fly directly across Centresky. Last peek at Middlesun before we duck back into safety, friend Fae?”
Friend! A word with a unique power all of its own.
She peeked. Oh, how she peeked!
At last, she knew why her world was called Spheris, the great sphere inclosing Middlesun – imaginative name, that – and what it meant to be a mote afloat in realms immeasurable and wondrous. She felt naïve for never having flown centrally before, but since she had never been able, that point was a given. Why had her family, her Elders, never told her of these marvels? Why hide the Faerie-kind so far and so deep, as if they were afraid of everything that moved in the jungles?
“If you look behind us, you’ll see mountains,” he said, whirling about to orient her while keeping his muzzle pointed at the fast-incoming pink specks, which had sprouted wings and no doubt, very bad attitudes to accompany the extreme speed.
White-tipped purple peaks stood stark against the background of burgundy foliage, like the teeth of serrated knives pointing skyward. She panted, “What’s the white?”
“Snow.”
“Snow?”
“Snow way of snowing where we’ll be going,” he quipped humorously. With a barked warning, he folded his wings to plummet down into the foliage.
Allory risked a glance back at the Hyperdragons and immediately wished she had not. The pink beasts came screaming in like a trio of arrows, unquestionably aiming for the marauding gold dot. Never mind the wind screaming in her ears as they descended at terminal velocity or more, those massive brutes approached at some insane multiple of his speed and she could only pray that Yaarah knew what he was doing. They had to be three or four times larger than the Felidragon. Maniac crimson eyes. Glints of lovely white dentistry showed between their parted lips, anticipating the kill.
She held on with everything she had, even her teeth.
Fluttering his wings in an extremely narrow range, Yaarah put in a despairing burst of effort. At the last second, the scaly marauders had to pull up or smash into the treetops. Death, at their velocity.
WHEEE-KABOOM!!
As the Hyperdragon flight hurtled by overhead, a blast of thunder pummelled her eardrums, but not loudly enough to keep her from overhearing her ride yelp what sounded very much like a zesty swear word. He spread his wings to ride the buffeting and better control their descent through the increasingly thick foliage, soon swooping into a safe landing on a smallish branch that bowed beneath his weight.
“Forgot how freaking fast they are, frrr-pssst!” he muttered.
For an intelligent scholar, he was not always the sharpest thorn in the cluster.
Allory bade her fingers and toes unclench themselves. Her body had forgotten how to work. One small tap with a hammer and she’d shatter into a million pieces.
Yaarah growled, “Well?”
“Centresky isn’t at all what I imagined,” she managed to wheeze. Leaves. Branches. Shelter, at last. The skies were no place for miniature Fae creatures. Her hypersensitive terror response began to uncurl from the inside with the return to familiar humidity, scents and closeness. The tautness across her chest, the deathly constriction in her throat, finally eased.
He threw her a sharp glance. “And?”
“It was glorious, and you were absolutely right to show me. Oh.” She clutched her stomach as it voiced a spirited protest. “Oh suggids, I think I’m going to –”
Trying to throw herself overboard, she heaved her guts out.