Before Saila had gone off on her little quest to retrieve the good doctor’s chickens, there had been a discussion on safety measures; how to handle them, what to do if they were injured, and so on. A final check showed she’d done it well enough- not a hen was harmed, and some looked positively positive.

Saila had to laugh at that. To call Kenji’s information a discussion was generous. He’d slowly worked himself into a fret, tending to Koryu’s wound with one hand while he instructed her with the other. But at the end of the day, they were simply animals, domestic and gentle. A lot of talk, for not much need, and she’d forgotten the edges of it anyway.

Koryu, for his part, had only told her two things, and those stuck clearer in her mind.

The rooster’s name is Yari.

Do not trust Yari.

Saila’s first thought upon finding Yari was that his warning had oversold it by a fair bit.

Nestled on the apex of a sand-dune, basking in the sun and cooled by the sand, was the rooster in question. Larger than the others, legs thicker, with a stockier build, but still a silly bird.

Then he turned, his face a crimson stain on snow.

How much was due to his bigger neck-flappy thing and wild comb-like crest, and how much was due to the blood caked on his feathers was something Saila didn’t want to find out.

“Hey there Yari,” Saila said as she approached the dune. “Wanna bite to eat?”

She pulled a bit of feed from the bag- a crushed up mash of old grains and wheat- and enticingly swished her hand about.

Yari looked down on her from his little perch of sand, then pointedly looked away.

… Uptight jerk. This stuff too good for you or something?

A part of her was relieved though- climbing the dune meant finally getting the sled-wagon off her shoulder. She loosed the rope, set the bag down a few feet from the warbling chickens within, and began to gently step up the slope.

Yari spun his gaze back, feathers floofed outward in concern. He eyed her cautiously.

“Easy, easy, little guy. You wanna go home, right? I’m gonna take you home- I’m a friend of Koryu. You know, the guy you stabbed.”

That seemed to work- Yari backed down.

Saila approached, closer and closer.

Then a blast of sand struck her square in the face.

“Blrhggrhfbl!”

Saila tumbled down the dune, sand flying, body rolling end-over-end. She collapsed in a heap, unharmed though not unsore, looking up at the devious rooster- his wing to one side, as though he’d deliberately swiped a bit of sand at her.

Then he caw’d.

Saila was familiar with the way a rooster would call in the morning. A right old bastard in Dehalia would sound a solid hour or two before dawn just out of spite.

But Yari’s was an avian cackle set apart from what she was familiar with.

Mostly in that, she was sure as sure could be; the damn rooster was laughing at her.

This, obviously, meant war.

Saila pushed herself up from the sand, put Noble’s hat back on, and ran up the dune at full tilt.

Yari stopped his clucking laughter long enough to swipe another wing-full of sand at her.

This time she was ready- she stumbled to a halt to avoid it, golden white sand showering over her, and- and then…

Gravity took its toll. The dune was steeper than she expected.

“Blrghrgrlhhrf!”

Once more, flat on her back in a sea of sand, staring up at the loathsome rooster.

She rose to her feet, slapped her cheeks twice, and dashed up the dune.

This time when the expected spray of sand came her way, she ran through it, arms up to shield her eyes.

“Got you now you son of a bi-!!”

Yari swiped a second time.

The sands of the Anarkali tasted about as badly as Saila had suspected.

“BLGHFHLGFHLGFFHB!!”

Saila came to a stop near the sled-wagon, half-buried and half-dazed from all the spinning. A low rumble started in her stomach, and not just from her inadvertent meal.

Yari cackled in his ruthlessly cruel, mocking way, seeming more like a cat with cornered prey then some absurdly proportioned poultry.

Cat… Saila thought.

She picked herself up, shook off the sand, and sprinted forward.

Once more a burst of sand was swiped at her, and once more Saila charged through it.

Atop the dune now, Saila charged straight for the rooster. Her mouth opened-

Yari swung his wing and-

Sparks and sand filled the air, as a jet of flame burst into the spray of sand.

Yari was a clever little bird, but he was a bird. Birds were animals- this was just a silly game of dominance to him, Saila realized. All she had to do was show a little dominance back.

Impressed or shocked, Yari clucked once and froze.

Saila lunged at him, twisted him around in place, held him tight in a bear hug, and lifted.

Strong, scaly talons kicked out- but couldn’t reach backwards. They flailed in the air majestically, Yari howling in avian disgust.

“Not so tough when you’re not on the ground are you!” Saila shouted, laughing in her best imitation of the bird’s clucking cackle.

She almost felt embarrassed, but the only gossips around where the hens, and she doubted they’d tell anyone.

Triumph surging through her, even as Yari struggled, Saila breathed a sigh of relief and looked out over the Anarkali. It was a beautiful gold-white landscape, and while in the deepest reaches of her mind this place would haunt her, she did have to admit the beauty of it.

Then Yari’s head lifted up from the base of his neck, and turned around to face her.

Saila blinked.

The bird’s neck was a lengthy, serpentine thing, feathers layering the back, a smooth underside on the front. It was uncoiling from the body, then tensing as it twisted back at her, like a snake.

Then it shot at her.

Saila threw Yari away in abject panic as she backed off with a jolt. The red-stained beak sliced through the air, barely missing her face. Yari plopped to the ground and tumbled down the dune- and Saila with him.

They came to a stop at its base.

The sand had barely begun to settle when Yari let loose an ear-splitting caw and lunged forward.

“Oh shit!!”

Saila pushed herself to her feet and fell backwards from the force of it, only barely avoiding the high-speed peck aimed squarely for her. She scooted backwards through the sand, as Yari’s neck recoiled back, shaking the sand from his feathers.

The patch of desert where his beak had struck crunched and cracked, as it solidified into a chalky, pale-white stone.

Yari paced back and forth, head weaving through the air in a risen threat, eyes glaring with a hunter’s gleam to them.

Saila stood, legs shaky. What the hell is… no, get a grip. It’s ju- a monster, like Noble said. Like the scorpi-cat. Just- and, and he said they’re animals! So just take it easy, let it know I’m not a threat…

With great care, Saila took a step back, and whispered in the calmest voice she could manage, “Hey, hey, calm down. It’s okay, Yari, I’m… I’m sorry for scaring you. It’s okay, I…”

Yari took a step forward, talons digging into the sand. His eyes twitched, with a certain kind of animal rage. The sort of rage presented only when challenging another to supremacy.

It was only then Saila remembered three distinct facts, pulled from Kenji’s worried ramblings about safety.

One, the sled-wagon of chickens was behind her.

Two, more than one rooster in a hen-house meant hell.

Three… her hair was a very familiar shade of red.

Saila’s amber-toned cheeks burnt with embarrassment.

“I’M NOT A ROOSTER YOU STUPID F-!!”

###

Noble gently sipped at the tea- chocolate, to his surprise, despite all the herbs around the good doctor’s wandering home. It warmed him in a way the magic and medicine had not, and the satisfaction of simple mechanical movement in his arm was palpable.

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So, too, was the folded sheet of paper Kenji had written up for him.

I wonder if I should tell her straight away or not…

“How’s the tea?”

Noble set the tea down and pulled his filtration mask back over his face- the movement as repetitive and mundane as the drinking itself, but each cycle kept his body working.

“It’s good.”

Then the mask went back up, for more tea.

“You know, you’re no stranger- especially not after I’ve had my hands inside your torso. You can remove the mask,” Kenji said with an amused, polite grin.

Tea down, mask down.

“Suppose so,” Noble tapped at his chest. “Gotta hand it to you doc, you do good work”.

He was bare from the waist up, black-silver torso open to the air. What was once a gaping hole exposing his iron-clad innards was now sealed. It had taken the better part of an hour or two just to work it closed without shattering the rest of him or endangering the spine.

Mask up, tea up.

“Ah, I do my best, gunslinger,” Kenji chuckled. “But do be cautious- machinery or not, the body needs to rest for the healing to settle in. And I’m not exactly an engineer, I just know a few who’ve rambled about it all to me.”

A simple nod was Noble’s answer, and the truth was he could feel it- that glow of health was tickled with a lingering stripe of pain where the pieces had melded. He felt great in his mind, but the reality was he was still down three limbs, and cracks still ran through him.

He wondered how long his brother could wait. How long Saila could.

Tea down, mask down.

“Suppose like you said, we’ll need to put our feet up for a while more - if you’ll tolerate us.”

“Ah, of course, Mister Noble.” Kenji grinned. “I wouldn’t abandon a patient to the sands- rest assured, you and yours are safe in the Painter’s embrace.”

“Not without some payment, of course,” Noble tilted his head to the side. “You mentioned work, for the little lady?”

Mask up, tea up.

“Ah, yes. Nothing untoward of course, just little tasks around the home. She’s quite athletic- ‘good legs’, she said, adorable.”

Kenji sipped his tea, a peaceful reminiscence crossing his eyes. “I believe it may also help the young lady. She’s had to fight, she will again. A little work might help strengthen her for the journey ahead.”

Noble was still a moment, then nodded. He finished his tea, and put it- and his mask- down one last time.

“Suppose so,” he said, though a burning part of him was against the thought of it. “Nothing she can’t handle, though. Don’t push her to hard, either.”

Kenji chuckled faintly. “Ah, protective. I know that feeling well. Rest assured; the worst we’ll do is have her collect our basilisk.”

“Basi- oh, for the chickens. They do have that rooster instinct, don’t they?”

“They do, yes- the males at least. Can’t breed with chickens either, so they make perfect floor wardens for the birds. Can be feisty though- especially so, in Yari’s case.”

“Never met one myself, just read about them.” Despite himself, Noble laughed with him. “You did tell her, right?”

Kenji went silent.

Noble had lived long enough to know people like Kenji did not go silent without reason.

“You… did tell her, right?”

“… does she not know? I’d expect after everything you’ve told-”

“She doesn’t, I-”

“- me she must know, or at least suspect-”

“- I never, she doesn’t, not in the way you th-”

Faintly in the distance, an ear-splitting cry rattled the windows.

“Well shoot, we sh-”

“Damnit- SailaGH!!”

Noble instincts drove the gunslinger to his feet.

Gravity reminded him his feet were stuffed in a bag.

###

Shouting had been a mistake.

Yari’s little game of tossing sand in her face, his clucking laughter, it was not a threat, not the way the scorpicat’s sparks were. Less ‘be gone, or I’ll eat you’ and more ‘haha, loser’.

But her shouting, a visceral bellow from the bottom of her lungs?

That was a threat.

So it was Saila found herself running laps around the sled-wagon, the feathery fiend in fierce pursuit, literally pecking at her heels.

A part of her found it kind of funny, truth be told.

“Aaaaah! Get away get away get away!”

“BUCKAAAW!!!”

Another lance-like thrust of Yari’s neck that slammed into the sand inches from where her foot had been, crunchy white stone rising up in its place.

The thought of what might happen if that beak struck her skin kept her moving more than anything else.

Come on, come on, think, there’s gotta be a way to calm Yari down!

She wracked her brain as she ran, dodging the crumbly stones left from earlier rotations- she’d stepped on one once and while it hadn’t broken skin, it had sent a numbing jolt through her leg that had just about sent her spiraling.

No ideas came as they made a full lap.

How many had it been? Three? Five?

The hens in the sled-wagon likely knew, they’d been following it, warbling with interest. A gaggle of white-clad ladies, enthralled and entertained by her moves and guile.

She’d dreamed of something like this once, but with a good deal less feathers.

Another lancing peck- Saila leapt, and kicked off the sled-wagon to steal some distance.

Frustrated cawing broke from Yari, as he weaved around the spray of sand her leap threw up. Chicken-noises sounded out like an ‘oooh’ing crowd.

Saila looked back, to judge how much she’d gained.

Just a few feet, at most.

She also saw a certain keenness to her pursuer’s eyes.

This wouldn’t stop till one of them collapsed.

She kept running.

Come on come on come on! Think stupid brain think! What do I do- hell, what would Kenji or that meathead of his do? They probably know a word or a gesture o- or something that can stop- wait a second, hold on!!

Something hit her- mentally, but strong enough she almost stopped.

Why DID Koryu get hit anyway?

A simple question, but one that she’d not thought of. Why ask it, after all? It was just a bad wound from a rooster’s beak, a common occurrence. Kenji had seemed concerned but he was a caring person, it was his nature to overblow things. Koryu was a tough guy, it’d be fine.

And he was a tough guy. He’d hefted that sled-wagon like no problem, injuries or not.

But it wasn’t rooster inflicted. Whatever Yari was wasn’t a roos-

Wait shit he must have known Yari’s a monster!!

Realization hit as she dodged another piercing peck- even with the distance she’d made, he was getting closer. She started to curve her angle, hoping a sharper turn would keep the distance healthy.

If Koryu knows tha- then, then he knows the snake-neck, which- that me- he should have expected it! Maybe it was an accident, maybe it was bad- no! It can’t be that he’s too- AGHFB!

Between running for her life from Yari, dodging the chalky stone traps left in the petrifying poultry’s wake, and thinking a way out of this mess, something had to slip her mind.

Was only natural, of course.

She’d disregarded the sled-wagon. Unmoving, unyielding, an obstacle of sorts but never in her way. Till she tried to take a sharper turn of course. She winged her knee on a wooden extension- the type that’d hold the reigns for a beast of burden, but now only held the rope she’d used to pull the damn thing.

Saila stumbled, tripping over that rope as her knee cried, and twisted to recover herself as best she could.

She plopped down in the white-gold sand turned one-eighty degrees, face to face with the black-eyed Yari.

In moments like this, time seemed to slow to a crawl.

One thought crystalized, a diamond in the desert sands.

He’d gotten hit on purpose.

It didn’t make any sense. And yet- if Yari was in a mood, which he clearly was, maybe letting him get it out of his system made sense. Kenji was a doctor, the injury was minor at best- why not let the rooster thrash about, it’s not like you were any real danger with his neck exposed to you like that.

That made it click, like the hammer on a revolver.

“BUCKAAAW!!”

Yari’s shrieking cry broke through that slow moment. He was twenty feet from her- fifteen counting the neck.

Too close.

Or not close enough.

This is a STUPID plan…

Saila dipped her hand into the Anarkali and swung a handful of Yari’s own sandy medicine back at him. He recoiled with an animal shock, talons skidding, head rearing back.

She charged; hands outstretched.

Amber fingers slipped around dull brown neck, a smooth but even-keeled layer of scales. She held it tight- not tight enough to hurt, but firm enough to-

Yari’s beak plunged into her shoulder.

“GAH…tsssse,” Saila hissed between her teeth. The pain was sharp in a way she’d never felt before, a sort of chill that shuddered through her- not cold, but vacant, with a lot of pressure. Underneath it all, the damp feeling of blood pooling on her and running down her arm.

“Come on… come on… let it out. I’m not… an enemy.”

She spoke calmly, if strained. With Yari’s beak firmly wedged into her shoulder there wasn’t much more she could do. The pain spiked, then faded as chalky stone started coating the point of impact- a dull sort of numbness flooding her nerves. She tried and failed not to think of it covering her entirely, and shuddered.

But the tension in his neck started to slack, the ferocity in his fluffed-up feathers fading. Letting Yari have his satisfaction- his enemy could hold her own, but he’d still struck her that harsh blow. It was an animal sort of pride, but one she could work with.

Truthfully, she’d have preferred her grip to stay firm, to take him by the throat and NOT get stabbed. To assert her own strength and let it be clear she’s in charge- that was a teenage sort of pride, and she imagined Yari would find it as silly as she did his.

All the while, even as his aggression waned, his gaze never moved from hers, even at the odd angle they were at. The spread of stone stopped, a few inches around her wound, white on amber and speckled with red. Yari began to pull against her hands, retracting his neck. She let it loose, and it coiled around his body, settling so smoothly into feathers she could almost doubt it had happened at all.

“There, good boy. We both win. You feeling be-”

With a scurry of sharp pinches and scratches- not enough to pierce but enough to sting- Yari scrambled up her like a tower and sat on her head.

“Wh- what are you-?!”

Yari dipped down, and gave her the cockiest look she’d ever seen, be it bird or monster or human being.

With a resigned sigh, she said “… fine. You win.”

Saila stood, grabbed the sled-wagon rope, and walked back to the doctor wagon.

###

Kenji’s response was a tumultuous brew of sympathy and belly-laughter.

As though he’d never seen an exhausted, stiff-necked girl balancing a height-obsessed rooster-snake on her head before.

The laughter didn’t really hurt, though embarrassment’s sting did tingle along her stitches all the same. Kenji meant it all in kindness, and his sympathy helped soothe it like the salve he’d applied to the bandages.

Koryu, however, got to her.

“… you let the basilisk bite you?”

“Wh- what else was I supposed to do!?”

“… not, that.”

That has been the whole of the conversation, but something about it rippled through her worse than any physical pain.

She’d lost a fight to a rooster.

What chance did she have against Knave?

The thought danced in her head the rest of the day, through lunch and into the waning sunlight. To the credit of their hosts, they let her sulk and recover in peace- Koryu tending to the flock, cooking and cleaning, Kenji working on Noble in the back room.

She knew he was fixing him, in some way. Probably magic- there was a scent in the air, behind all the smells of cooking, medicine, and life.

But they didn’t let her see him.

###

The sun set. Saila went outside to light a small fire- to keep the camels and Matchsticks warm, she said, but in truth she wanted to be alone.

The dark of the night, the chill Anarkali, sister to the burning Anarkali that was the day.

It brought back memories of her march through the sands.

Through the day she’d picked up pieces of information here and there, listening in the way you learned to when living on the streets of a small town.

Apparently, their walk through it had been, all told, three days.

Likewise, the sleep afterward.

Not telling her was the right choice, the impact of hearing it would have sunk in deep. Hearing it like this… through bits and pieces, made it feel distant.

She looked up at the sky, stars twinkling in night’s curtain.

“Evening, little lady.”

Saila turned- Noble was sitting by the fire.

His right arm was in a sling, but from the curt wave he gave her she knew he could use it, at least a little.

The left was still gone, plus his left leg- a wooden crutch lay beside him.

His clothes were disheveled, his hair worse. He looked an utter mess.

But he was alive.

Tears welled in her eyes.

“O- oh, hey Noble. I um, yeah, I-”

She did her best to wipe them away.

“Now now, you don’t need to cry about old me,” Noble said, voice an even tone as ever, distorted by his gas mask. His breathing was light- not as light, but light all the same.

“Bastard! Let me cry about it. You’re safe now!”

Despite it all, he laughed, and it was a genuine one. Soft on the edges in a way Noble wasn’t, at least not normally. It dried her eyes- taking her out of it if not comforting her.

It helped that, beneath it, there was a sniffle or two- it was easier to cry alone, Saila felt.

“Suppose so,” he finally said. He took a deep breath, a relaxed sigh.

Then he reached up and took off his mask.

Saila had seen bits of his face during meals. Pale skin, polished teeth, thin lips. Reminded her of the rider in her favorite book.

The whole thing was that, writ large.

Pallid and fair, almost ghost-white in places. The fact that his hair was still a shiny gold seemed baffling. His eyes were sunken and gaunt, grey stained bags underneath, both from his mask and poor sleep, even as the eyes themselves sparkled blue. His nose was thin and sharp, ears flat even before the mask-straps had worn them down.

Flecks of black-silver ringed the base of his neck, the place where man ended and machine began.

“Sorry, little lady, if I strike a frightening image,” he said. “But I felt it time…”

The gruffness was there, the direct tone, the waver and wobble of how he spoke, but it was such a gentler voice than Saila ever expected to hear from him. The mask, plus his own intent, had made him sound as rough as the stones and sand.

Unmasked, it was as soft as moonlight.

“Time for what?” Saila sat by the fire, across from him.

Another gentle sigh. “To tell you how and why I started walking.”

He began.

######