Fathom flared out his wings, pulling out of an evasive roll before regaining his lost altitude. His breathing was a little strained, as this was the last of many practice maneuvers he'd done that morning, so he decided to rest for a few minutes of passive flight until he recovered his stamina.
Instinct and experience made long distance flight a trivial task, so he had decided early that morning to run through some old practice maneuvers while patrolling; it had been a long time since he had two properly working wings after all, and he needed to be at his best for the Solstice. The past fifteen days or so had helped him remember how to properly fly, but the process was not easy as he would have hoped; his body still occasionally insisted on flying as if one of his wing fingers were still broken.
He tossed his head, shaking off the frustration. That was what the practice was for.
On occasion Fathom would scan the skies around him, but he had yet to encounter another dragon that morning. It was far from unusual given that he had only been flying for around two hours, though he idly wondered if the circumstances surrounding Callan would make it more or less likely for him to encounter other dragons in the following days.
He was pulled from his thoughts as his first destination appeared on the horizon; the Slumbering Dragon. The name was really quite self-explanatory; the landmark was simply a large pile of rocks that had long ago been carved into the shape of an oversized dragon. The finer details had long since been eroded over the ensuing centuries, but its shape was still distinctly artificial.
Anticipation welled up in Fathom’s chest as he fell into a steady descent. He had only ever interacted with Qnaoro several times, but he was quite certain that the dragon would have helped Callan hide the message in plain sight; it was simply the most sensible thing to do.
…Unless Qnaoro was an idiot, which seemed increasingly likely as each crevice he inspected yielded no results. The rocks seemed virtually unchanged compared to the last time he had seen them three decades ago.
Fathom renewed his search from the tail-end of the stone dragon, picking up rocks and looking underneath them for anything of note. His inspection was so thorough that twenty beats had passed by the time he made it to the head.
In the end, it seemed there was nothing to be found here at all.
Grunting in frustration, Fathom turned his attention to the surrounding beach. Rocks and boulders of various sizes dotted the landscape, but it didn’t take long for him to detect the scent of blood – not human or dragon, but of prey. Following the scent led him to a slab of rock, stained in blood old enough to have turned black.
Fathom smiled as he carefully flipped over the rock, revealing a cavity in which several palm leaves[1] sat, each covered in familiar symbols.
Fathom picked up the leaves with great care and refocused his eyes to read the small text. His progress was stifled by an occasionally unfamiliar word – even sounding them out didn't help him recognise it – and he frowned as he gleaned the most important parts of the message.
It seemed Pryce was right after all.
----------------------------------------
Fortitude abruptly looked up, alerting Pryce to Fathom's returning figure in the sky.
“You’re back early, did you find anything?” she asked as he landed upon the deck.
Pryce wanted to keep his expectations low, but he couldn't see any reason why Fathom might have returned so early unless he had found something important.
“It’s easier if Pryce reads it first,” Fathom said, unfurling his foreclaws to reveal leaves – dried leaves with words written in blood.
> Mission Day 84 85 86 87 88 90
>
> Surprise, I'm alive!
>
> I suppose I should begin with how I survived. Writing on dried leaves using animal blood is a pain in the ass, so I’ll try and keep things short.
>
> Sometime around day 14 I heard a commotion in the hallways. Edward was stumbling about in what seemed like a manic episode, and he bolted for the deck. I tried to stop him, but a huge wave dragged us both into the ocean.
>
> We would have died there if not for the whale who sucked us into her mouth. I know it sounds ludicrous, but she carried us for a long time before spitting us out onto the beach of a small island.
>
> She stuck around for a little while along with her calf, but seemed to lose interest after a few hours.
>
> I didn’t get a great look at her, but she had a lopsided X-shaped scar over her head, was about 30 m long and almost entirely black on the top and white on the bottom – an unknown species, at least to my knowledge.
Pryce stared at these sentences, baffled by the ridiculous sequence of events. The ocean was incredibly vast, so perhaps it shouldn't have been surprising to discover intelligent marine life. There were stories of cetaceans helping humans in crisis, but verified or not he'd never heard of such altruistic behavior from a sea creature, and certainly not from a whale.
He continued reading, and noticed that the following words were written carefully, as if the writer were holding themselves steady.
> The two of us were still sick, even if we were saved from drowning.
> Ed died a few days later. I got better. Don't know why.
>
> The island was pretty small, so there weren't any predators around that could threaten me. At least until a gods-damned dragon showed up 46 days after my arrival – and then he started talking to me! Not in English, obviously, but he was clearly speaking a language.
>
> But you clearly knew that, since you needed the help of a dragon to find this message in the first place. Honestly it's ridiculous how smart they are. Aurum – the name I've given my new buddy – can string together sensible sentences after only two weeks! Wish I could say the same for myself, but their language is more or less unpronounceable to me, so I haven't really made much headway.
>
> I’ve no idea when a rescue crew will arrive, but Aurum has been asking around to find out where the hell everyone else is – you know, you.
>
> Gods, I hope someone’s alive to read this.
>
> -Jane Callan
P.S. I’ll update the date every time I check up on this. If I’m late, then I’m (hopefully) busy doing something more important.
The following message was written upon leaves that seemed to be a little more recent:
> P.P.S
>
> Day 92,
>
> Shit.
>
> We were discovered by another dragon. Aurum had to promise to bring me to some solstice event just to get him to leave us alone.
>
> It was only a matter of time, really, but that doesn't make it any less of a problem.
>
> Aurum and I will be reaching out to dragons with potential to be our allies. We'll be gathering as many as we can before the summer solstice event in ten days.
>
> At this point, I doubt anyone will find this message. Aurum wishes to introduce me to a dragon who's apparently something of a vegetarian herbalist, and I agree that it would be more beneficial to gather allies than to waste any more time here.
>
> The next line was struck through, and the message continued below the illegible text.
>
> To whoever finds this, do me a favor and send a few messages for me.
>
> Dad – thanks for everything that you taught me. I don't think I would've survived until now if you hadn't taught me all that you did.
>
> Gordon – regardless of what happened, the choice to go on this expedition was mine and mine alone. What happened wasn't your fault.
>
> Don't blame yourselves for any of this; I knew what I was signing myself up for. Kind of. Wasn't really expecting to meet a dragon of all things, but hey, at least I’m (probably) the first person to ever speak to one!
>
> I love you both,
>
> Jane
Pryce stared at the sign-off, his lips pressed into a thin line. It was no surprise that Callan had assumed that everyone had either died or gone home by now.
Maybe it was his sense of responsibility, or maybe he was just being nosy, but wrong as it felt, Pryce found it impossible to stop himself from reading the personal message. It wasn't just Callan. Everyone aboard the ship had someone waiting for them back home, they just never had the chance to leave behind any parting words like she had – at least, not that he knew of.
Pryce furrowed his brow and made a mental note to check the crew's quarters for any last messages. There were a few individuals he was quite sure would be on the rescue ship, and they deserved as much closure as they could get.
“I am waiting," Fortitude said, interrupting his thoughts. “What did she write? Is it good or bad?”
“It’s what I expected. We missed Callan by three days, but she's alive and gathering allies with Aurum – that's the name she's given Qnaoro, so I can start calling him that.”
“Finally,” Fathom rumbled in relief. “What does that name mean?”
"It's an old word for gold, probably because he's gold colored.” It wasn't a bad name. Perhaps he should consider naming dragons after metals and minerals if he couldn't find suitable words.
Fathom cocked his head, bemused by this conclusion. "There are no dragons who are gold colored. Qnaoro is supposed to be yellow, not gold."
"It must have to do with how dragons can see more colors. Gold looks mostly yellow to humans," Pryce explained. He faintly remembered that the precious metal reflected IR light very well, but he would have to refer to some reference material to be certain.
Fortitude made an impatient rumbling noise, sounding vaguely like someone clearing their throat. "This is not important, did you learn how she survived?”
“Apparently a whale saved her,” Pryce said, not quite believing the words coming out of his mouth. “Those are the big round animals who live in the ocean,” he added when Fortitude looked blank.
“I thought I could read that part,” Fathom said, “but I wasn't sure if I understood the sentence properly.”
Fortitude hummed at this piece of intelligence, her eyes narrowed in thought. “Strange. I thought whales were stupid. Sometimes I find them on the beach," Fortitude said when asked to elaborate. “I have helped a few whales back into the ocean, but they die if I am too late, so I thought they could not be very smart if they kept dying like that.”
“You…helped them?” Pryce asked, mildly surprised by the altruistic behavior.
“I felt pity for them,” she simply said, and shrugged her wings.
“Maybe it is easier than it looks to get stuck on land?” Fathom suggested. “Sometimes a dragon crashes into the ground, but that's because something else caused it.”
"Most humans think whales swim onto land to escape predators like the leviathans, and the ones we find are just the ones that get stuck.”
“Leviathans?” Fortitude asked blankly.
"Very large sea animals, sometimes over 30 meters long. They have long bodies like snakes, and have thick pointy heads,” Pryce said, aware that he was describing the bane of mankind’s seafaring efforts in a rather dull manner.
Their name was an old one, given to the creatures when their true identity was yet veiled in mystery. They had a tendency to hunt in small groups, and people once believed their coiling bodies to be limbs of a far larger creature, resulting in the interpretation of a ‘leviathan’ of the seas.
The tsunami of 897 AE had left one notable specimen stranded deep inland, which had gone far to dispel much of the mystery shrouding the creature. Some biologists had wished to change the common name of these creatures, though their efforts were largely unsuccessful due to people stoutly refusing to use anything but the name they knew.
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
“Sea-snakes," Fathom translated when Fortitude looked a little uncertain.
"Oh, those," Fortitude said, recognition finally dawning. "I have never seen one before, but Devotion once said she saw leviathans eating a whale in the ocean."
"That's interesting, but we can talk about it later. Let’s focus on this for now,” Pryce said, gesturing to the leaves. “This message was left 6 days ago, and Callan says that Aurum wants to meet Helsha. They've probably already left him, but if Devotion can find Helsha-”
“We can ask where they went next," Fathom finished, though his spines were a little flattened. “Why did Callan not write a list of dragons they were going to talk to?”
“I do not think Qna- Aurum has many allies, so he might not have a list,” Fortitude said, rumbling in thought. "Anyone would know that Helsha-ǂ would be a strong ally, but I have never heard of them working together before. Why would he go to him first?” she made a frustrated noise before tossing her head in frustration. “Grhh. Not important, we just need to find Helsha-ǂ.”
"Can you read the messages out to us?" Fathom asked. "I want to make sure I didn't misunderstand anything."
“Yes, do that!” Fortitude exclaimed as she peered at the writing – a pointless task, different that she could barely read any English, yet alone English that was upside down.
“No, I think I mentioned everything important,” Pryce said, scanning the text again. "But I'll read it out anyway, except for the last part, that's personal stuff."
"Personal how?" Fathom asked, head cocked.
"It's a message for her father and husband – her partner," Pryce elaborated.
Fortitude blinked in surprise. "She has a partner? Was she on the ship?"
"Was she on the ship?" Pryce asked in confusion. "Oh, you mean her husband. Callan's partner is a male – his name is Gordon, and he wasn't one of the humans on the Horizon."
"Do human partners not do things together?" Fathom asked. The two dragons appeared surprised by this, which perhaps wasn't very surprising considering what Pryce had told them about humans.
"Gordon was supposed to come with us, but he and a few others were injured in an accident," Pryce clarified.
“Makes sense,” Fortitude nodded.
“Read now, please," Fathom said, nudging him in reminder. "I have a few words I want to ask about, like what does ‘pain in the a-s-s’ mean?”
----------------------------------------
Reading out the message required several more awkward explanations largely supported by "that's just a thing people say", but he was somehow able to finish this task without too much mortification on his part.
He had never expected to feel irritation at Callan's crass choice of words again. In a way, it was oddly nostalgic.
“Human expressions are strange,” Fortitude chuffed, then turned to Pryce. “Are you going to ask him now?”
“Might as well, I suppose,” Pryce sighed, “but it's a bit awkward to have this conversation in front of you.”
“Ask me what?” Fathom asked, looking between the two. “...Oh, this must be about Pathogen,” he surmised with a hint of exasperation.
“...yeah,” Pryce admitted. “How did you know?”
“It's the only thing you're this reluctant to talk about,” Fathom shrugged. “Let's go to the other side of the ship; I don't want to talk about this in front of you either,” he added to Fortitude, who scoffed before burying herself under her one good wing.
“I have a lot of things to talk about,” Pryce said once they both sat themselves down at the stern of the ship. “But there’s one thing I want to ask you first: you know about Pathogen’s past, don’t you?”
“I do,” Fathom admitted.
“So why didn’t you tell me?”
Fathom rumbled uncertainly, his head drooping in a rather guilty manner. “It is true that I don’t know why he hated me so much, but there were also some things I just…wasn’t ready to talk about,” he admitted.
“Nothing wrong with that,” Pryce said. He’d assumed as much when Fathom had been so cagey about the subject. “Are you ready to talk about it now?”
“Yes, but there is one more thing I wanted to discuss first,” Fathom said, shifting uncomfortably. “That time you left to get more penicillin…I said I was mad at you because you didn't think you were going to survive getting more medicine, which was true, but…” he trailed off, and wasn’t quite able to meet Pryce’s gaze. “It is shameful for a dragon to need the help of another, so it was frustrating to be saved by someone as small and weak as you.”
Pryce frowned as he recalled those events in his mind. It certainly made sense, though the thought had never crossed his mind.
“But there was another reason I acted the way I did,” Fathom said, quietly by his standards. “You cured me. That proved that infections were caused by bacteria, which meant that Ighnahr wasn't cursed, and if he wasn't cursed then…” he drifted off, a torn look in his eyes. “It made me wonder whose fault everything was.”
Pryce opened his mouth, Fathom continued before he had a chance to speak.
“It took Abyss two months to die. She couldn't even recognize me or Celeste, by the end.” Fathom bowed his head, staring down at his talons. “I…thought about killing her just to end her suffering, but I always hoped she might get better.”
Pryce didn’t know what to say to that.
“I thought about it a lot while I was healing,” Fathom continued, apparently not having expected an answer. “It was very difficult to accept that Pathogen might not be responsible for everything, at least not in the way I blamed him for. I just…saw him as the source of all the problems in my life. I didn't think or care about why he did what he did – I just thought he was a terrible person, someone who simply deserved to die.”
“But…even still, you didn’t kill him, even when you could have,” Pryce said. “Fortitude said that no one would have cared if you killed him. If you thought he deserved to die, then why didn’t you kill him? Was it because you didn’t think it was honorable?”
“Yes,” Fathom said, though he seemed oddly hesitant. “That and…he killed Abyss outside of a death fight. I didn’t want to be like him. I wanted to kill him without betraying myself, and now, I finally have a plan to do that.”
“Oh?” Pryce asked.
“Don’t worry,” Fathom said, apparently noticing the concern on his face, “I think this is a good compromise: Pathogen thinks I am weakened, if he tries to challenge me to a death fight because of that, then I will kill him. If he does not, then I will let him go and live his miserable life.”
“That…sounds alright to me,” Pryce said uncertainly. “What if he fights you normally?”
“Then I’ll give him a few scars, but I won’t kill him.”
“...This is actually what I wanted to ask you to do,” Pryce admitted after a moment’s thought.
“What?” Fathom asked, surprised. “What about the “I should understand him” thing you wanted me to do?”
“I’ve thought it over while I talked to Fortitude, and reading Callan’s message just made me more certain: I realized that it doesn’t really matter what his motivations are, or even if he’s guilty. I just want you to do whatever it takes to survive, even if it means killing him.”
Fathom blinked, tilting his head a little as he regarded Pryce with a curious expression. “This is different from what you believed before. What changed your mind?”
Pryce sat up straight and looked Fathom in the eyes. “It’s not what I want to do, but I have to be realistic. Maybe this isn’t the most ethical plan, but if there’s something I can do to help keep you alive, I’ll do it.”
“You said something is ethical when it is the “right thing to do”, right?” Fathom asked. “Why would this not be ethical?”
“Killing someone is rarely the right thing to do,” Pryce huffed, rolling his eyes.
Fathom shrugged. “I don’t think any dragon would say that it’s wrong to protect what you care about, so I don’t see why you should feel any guilt. As for Pathogen, I don’t see how his actions can be justified by being a loser. Losing is normal – even I have lost a few fights, but I don't act like him.”
“Maybe, but it sounds like he rarely ever won fights, while you rarely lost them,” Pryce pointed out. “I'm just saying...I know what it's like, to never be good enough. Wouldn’t you be a different person if all you did was lose?”
“But I don’t,” Fathom said, eyes narrowed in confusion. “Why would I imagine myself being someone like him?”
“Imagining yourself in another’s position can help you understand them,” Pryce said, though Fathom didn’t seem very sold on the idea.
“Maybe that’s a human thing,” Fathom grumbled. “I guess I would be different, but I wouldn’t be me to begin with if I was weak enough to lose so many times.”
“If everyone else were stronger but you stayed the same, wouldn't you lose while still being you?”
“...I suppose,” Fathom grumbled. “But it still doesn't excuse Pathogen.” He cocked his head, apparently stumbling across an interesting thought. “Have you tried to imagine yourself in my position?”
“A few times. Dragons think differently from humans, but you’re also pretty reasonable, so it’s not hard to imagine what you would do.”
“Hmm…I wonder what you would be like as a dragon,” Fathom mused. “I think you would be very strong.”
“Didn’t you just call me small and weak a minute ago?” Pryce asked, unsure of how to take the odd compliment.
“I was referring to your body, obviously,” Fathom snorted. “It’s not my fault that your language doesn’t have different words for strength of body and strength of mind – or is the right word soul?”
Pryce blinked. “...you think my mind is strong?”
“Of course. Your body is weak, you overthink, and you’re often afraid of things, but you don't let anything stop you from doing what you need to do, even if your own desires say otherwise. That is why I respect you, because you did something I could not.”
“Oh.” Pryce said. “I didn’t know that.”
“Hmph,” Fathom chuffed. “Your eyes really are terrible. Why would I be friends with someone I didn't respect?”
“I guess you're right,” Pryce chuckled without mirth. “But what I’m asking you to do…isn’t that the opposite of what you respect me for? I’m asking you to stay alive for selfish reasons, not because this is what I believe is right.”
“Maybe a little bit,” Fathom admitted, “but no one is perfect, and I think it is the right thing to do given our circumstances.”
“If you say so,” Pryce shrugged, though he did feel somewhat better about his decision. “I will say that I appreciate your ability to admit your mistakes. Not many humans are as willing to do that as you are.”
“That’s normal for dragons,” Fathom chuffed, though he was obviously pleased by the compliment. “Pride rooted in lies is nothing but delusion.”
“Oh? Is that an expression?”
“It's good, isn't it?” Fathom cracked a smile. “It took me a few tries to translate it well.”
Pryce smiled. “Yes, it flows quite well. I think we should talk to Fortitude now, she seemed interested in how our conversation would go.”
“Yes, if that nosy dragon isn’t already listening in on us,” Fathom chuffed.
----------------------------------------
“It is a good plan,” the nosy dragon sighed reluctantly.
Pryce raised an eyebrow. “Do you have a suggestion to make?”
“No, I just wanted to see something more interesting,” Fortitude grumbled. “I did not think being on this ship would be so boring.”
“Hmph,” Fathom chuffed. “At least you don't have to spend all day f…”
Fortitude’s eyes slitted dangerously.
“...facing many directions, looking for dragons who might want to talk to you,” Fathom said, recovering with impressive grace. He quickly announced that he was going hunting, and flew off before either of them could stop him.
“Hunt something for me too!” Fortitude called out after him before falling into a rumbling snicker. “If there is one thing I will miss about having a broken wing, it is that I will no longer be able to joke about it.”
“That would be a great tragedy,” Pryce agreed, though her certainty was a little worrying. “About your wing…I will try my best, but you know there is a chance I might not be able to fix it, right?”
“Yes, yes, I remember what you said,” Fortitude said, waving a wing-thumb dismissively. “I was just saying that if I were healed then I would miss making people uncomfortable – it is never not funny.”
“Good,” Pryce nodded, though he noticed she hadn’t directly answered his question. “I just wanted to make sure you understood the risks. There's still plenty of daylight left; if you're bored then I could teach you how to read, if you'd like.”
“Yes, go get books! Ones with pictures!” Fortitude urged, the elder dragon nearly knocking Pryce over with an enthusiastic nudge towards the staircase, her injury forgotten at the prospect of having so much to learn.
----------------------------------------
“I could not find Kharno,” Devotion said as she landed, answering the question everyone wanted to ask. “Her neighbors said that she has already gone to the Plateau.”
«Of course she left early,» Fortitude chuffed, apparently unsurprised by this news. “Did you find Helsha-ǂ? Or anyone else we talked about?” Fortitude said, apparently unsurprised.
Devotion shook her head. "No. He lives far north from here. If I went, I would be back late. Better to leave early and find him tomorrow," she said, something Pryce could heartily approve. Long conversations with new dragons were difficult enough in broad daylight, and he had no desire to have one at night.
“Did you find a message?” Devotion asked, turning to Fathom.
“Of course,” Fathom said, and quickly summarized his own findings.
“A whale? Interesting…” Devotion rumbled. «I have never heard of anyone observing intelligent behavior from them. I wonder if anyone has ever tried talking to them?»
“I have never heard of anyone doing that,” Fathom said, “but we could ask the other dragons when the time comes.”
“It would be nice if someone did, but I would be surprised if that were the case,” Pryce said. “Whale songs are completely different from the noises that you can make.”
“We can think about it later,” Fortitude said, turning to her partner. “You should go to sleep if you are going to get up early tomorrow.”
“I am not very tired. It was good to stretch my wings,” Devotion said, but laid down without protest. A few minutes later she was snoring, with Fortitude curled up beside her.
“I'll tell Celeste everything when she gets back. You can go to sleep now, if you want,” Pryce said.
Fathom looked to the south before curling up to sleep. “Alright, but wake me up if she does not return by sunset.”
“Of course.”
----------------------------------------
> [JOURNAL ENTRY]
>
> Day 96
>
> Fathom ended up finding Callan's message, much to his daughter's disappointment.
>
> The contents of said message were….mixed. With any luck, Devotion will find Helsha tomorrow, and he can point us in the right direction.
>
> In the meantime, I just hope Callan and Aurum don't come across any problematic individuals.
>
> Among dragons, Pathogen and Trespasser are currently the biggest problems. The former may not be able to link Fathom to humans, but Trespasser certainly can. It might prove inconvenient if he tells others about the ship being in Fathom’s territory, but they still have no way to track us.
>
> I've moved Horizon as close to 22.5 degrees north as I could get it. Tomorrow I'll have Fathom replace the message he found with another one, detailing our location to Callan in the event she goes to check up on her message.
>
> P.S. I've updated the map with Devotion's help – the Plateau turned out to be a bit closer to our location than expected.
>
> image [https://imgur.com/a/Xk1G2kI]image [https://i.ibb.co/3pb7WJb/Areas-Of-Interest.png]