“I still don’t think this is a very good idea.”
Zephyr was mostly speaking to himself at this point. The Eudimorphodon had already levied his complaint several times during the short trek out from the monastery grounds and into the forested ridgeline. His traveling companions- his friends, Pax Excelsus the Postosuchus, and Tempest the Caelestiventus- had heard this complaint, considered it, regarded it- and then just as quickly disregarded it- several times already. He was known as something of a nervous sort, far more comfortable reading about adventures than going on them. His perpetual anxiety was an aspect of his personality he hadn’t yet grown out of. To make matters worse, now, as he neared maturity, his poor eyesight had started deteriorating. The little pterosaur had never been taken seriously as it was; the little spectacled pterosaur was even more laughable.
“We know,” Tempest said. Though he was a few months younger than Zephyr, no one would know it just by looking at him. Tempest, now fully grown, was significantly larger than Zephyr was, in height and wingspan, and in muscularity. Tempest’s voice had also deepened substantially over the last year, while poor Zephyr still only sounded marginally older than he did as a hatchling. “But you know that we’re allowed to leave the monastery now. The Elders told us to get lost for the day, and we’re allowed to be out here. I promise you’re not gonna get in trouble.”
Not that Tempest cared much for rules anyway. The Elders might have given the three subadult monks permission to leave monastery grounds, but they definitely had not given permission to go and visit the local village, especially not to visit the village several times a month, and most certainly not to go visit one’s girlfriend in the village several times a month. Not that Zephyr had any intention of bringing her up; Tempest had already taught him that lesson.
“You know that’s not what I’m worried about,” Zephyr said, irritated. “I don’t like us going to this pond; you remember what happened to Elder Stultum. Why don’t we just go swimming at the creek instead- or, better yet, why don’t we just head back to cool off inside the monastery? It’s scorching out here.”
It was unbearably hot outside. Any other day, the wind would be a bitterly cold gale, but today it was little more than a light breeze- and it was warm.
“That is precisely why we’re going swimming in the pond today,” Pax growled, his voice low and booming. “The dry season was too intense this year, there wasn’t enough rainfall up here- so the creek’s all dried up. The pond’s a spring, so it doesn’t go dry. Stultum was attacked years ago, and there ain’t enough food up here to sustain anything that big; it would’ve swam downstream before the dry season hit to go look for something to eat. ‘Sides, you got me with you. You’ll be perfectly safe.”
“Of course you’re not scared,” Zephyr said, shooting a glare in Pax’s direction. “You’re twenty feet long and a crocodile. I’m three feet long and a pterosaur, and I wear glasses.” Zephyr shook his head and sighed. “But alright, I trust you.”
“Thank you.”
Zephyr made up his mind not to push the issue further. Pax was already in a bad mood as it was; though he wasn't the oldest of the three (that honor fell to Zephyr), he was the most grounded. The strongest, he felt some obligation to understand the troubles of the wider world and to shield his weaker friends from them. They hadn’t simply been dismissed from the monastery for the day on account of the Elder’s kindness. An event of some significance had occurred in the wider world, so terrible and important that it would have ramifications even for the isolated monastery. Whatever it was, it was of a nature so upsetting that the Elders had to discuss it in private, away from young ears.
Zephyr didn’t understand it, personally. He had heard whispers: it was something political, some variety of governmental catastrophe, and he knew it had the adults seriously worried. Tempest, with his outside connections, knew more of the surrounding political landscape than the others. Pax, despite his deceptive size, was quite stealthy and had a habit of eavesdropping on conversations meant for older minds than his. The two discussed what they knew of the outside world together, often. Naturally, they did not include poor Zephyr in these discussions.
Whatever Pax had heard of these current events, they had distressed him greatly. Knowing that the crocodile, though terrestrial, nonetheless had an affinity for the water, Tempest came up with the idea of this swimming excursion. He hoped it could take Pax’s mind off of his troubles, at least for a little while.
The trio made their way along a dry streambed, a narrow canyon carved out by water pouring downstream during the wet season. It wasn’t far, but it was a tiring climb up to the summit, where the pond (or more aptly named, the spring) waited. Zephyr and Tempest could have easily flown the distance, but they didn’t want to leave Pax to have to make the climb alone.
It wasn’t long before they arrived, the ground flattening out and rough clay transitioning to squelching mud beneath their claws. The pond was quite large, at least a few hundred feet wide and a few dozen feet deep. The water was impressively clear, but a thick mass of weeds grew across most of the surface, making it difficult to see what lie beneath. That fact did not help settle Zephyr’s flighty nerves.
Not that it bothered the others in the slightest, of course. Pax and Tempest stripped off their robes and lay them in a neat pile by a rock outcropping at the shore. Pax wasted no time before slipping into the water, paddling out a few feet, and then fully submerging himself into beneath the surface. Zephyr lost sight of his colossal friend beneath the weeds in seconds, and that especially did not settle his nerves.
Tempest paused at the shoreline, scanned the breadth of the pond, and then turned back to face Zephyr- who remained robed and stood far off from the waterline. “See? The water’s completely stagnant,” Tempest waved a wing toward the pond. His assessment was accurate. “That means there’s nothing swimming out here, just like Pax said. No food means no pond monsters.”
“Pax is swimming out there,” Zephyr observed, taking a seat at the rock outcropping. “And you don’t see him.”
“You’ve gotta stop being so worried about everything, Zeph.” Tempest rolled his eyes and shook his head, turning back to face the water. “What’s the point of being alive if you’re always too scared to actually live a little?”
Tempest leapt into the air, sharply spun in the sky, and then dove straight into the depths. A few seconds later, he shot back out of the water from the other end of the pond, before whirling around to dive back in once more. Zephyr watched him repeat his theatrics a few more times before growing tired of the display, removing his glasses and placing them by the pair of discarded robes, and curling himself up on the shore. His friends couldn’t possibly amuse themselves like this for very long, could they? He was content just to wait them out. But the sun was still blazing overhead.
After a few minutes of uncomfortable suntanning, and nearly drifting to sleep beneath the scorching heat, Zephyr was suddenly shocked awake by a splash of cold water. He bolted upright, being greeted by a grinning Tempest, lazily floating a few feet from shore.
“Come on, Zeph,” he said, splashing the water with his wings, as if beckoning the smaller pterosaur in. “Your beak’s gonna get charred out there. And look: nothing’s killed me yet! It’s perfectly saf-” Tempest didn’t finish his sentence. In a flash, he was ripped under the surface, a mass of bubbles left in the wake of where he had just been.
“Tempest!” Zephyr shouted in alarm, darting to the water’s edge. There was no sign of him. Oh no! Oh no! Oh no oh no oh no oh no! Zephyr’s mind spun, his body gripped by panic. He shot into the air, circling the area where his friend had just been. He still could see no trace. I have to do something! I have to help him! Zephyr, though seized by incredible fear, knew he couldn’t just stand by while his friend drowned.
Praying a wordless prayer, Zephyr rallied all his courage- and dove.
The little pterosaur spiraled through the water, propelling himself forward with his wings. Water stung his eyes, but he forced himself to keep them open. It was hard enough to see without his lenses, but even more difficult as water thrust into his face and light was diffused through a layer of weeds. He still saw no sign of Tempest. And what about Pax? Is he in trouble too?
After a few laps around the area where he had last seen Tempest, Zephyr was forced to come back up for air. “Tempest! Tempest, where are you!” Zephyr shouted between gasps for breath, treading water and spinning all around, looking for some sign. The water was stagnant in all directions.
With incredible power, something exploded out of the water behind him. Frightfully spinning back around, Zephyr’s heart sank. There, only a few feet away, was the grinning face of Pax Excelsus. Perched upon the Postosuchus’s back was none other than Tempest, doubled over in a fit of laughter. They were both completely unharmed.
“Oh, Zeph!” Tempest cried, choking out words in between each guffaw. “Aw, you should’ve seen the look on your beak!”
“That was not funny,” Zephyr said, indignantly. A part of his mind was incredibly relieved to see his friends again, unharmed. The other burned with a level of anger he rarely reached; his friends had taken him for an idiot- and he had been! “I thought you were in trouble.”
“I know, and I’m sorry,” Tempest said, drying his eyes. He almost sounded earnest. “It was really brave for you to dive in like that. I always knew you were! But we had to get you in here somehow, that sun will cook the skin right off your wings. And now look- it’s completely harmless in here!”
Zephyr let out an exasperated grumble and turned away from his friends, slowly paddling his way back towards shore. Tempest is right, he figured. As his adrenaline wore off, Zephyr could recognize how good the water did feel against his body. It certainly felt much better than the blazing sun. His robes hadn’t been spared though, to his dismay; they were uncomfortable as it was, water just made the fabric even more miserable to wear. I am too worried about everything. That just proves it.
A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
There was a splash behind him as Tempest dove back into the water and paddled over to swim beside him. “I am sorry,” he repeated. He did sound like he meant it, this time. “I guess that was kinda mean.” He splashed Zephyr with a bout of water. “Still think it was worth it though.”
Zephyr scowled and refused to look at Tempest. He would forgive him, but later today. Right now though, he was more than content to stew in righteous self-pity.
Nearing the shoreline, some movement caught his eye and instantly snapped him out of resentment and into curiosity. A few tiny animals were making their way along the water’s edge. There were maybe fifteen of them, each following the others in a single-file line. They were unusual little creatures, each one small enough to fit in his claws. They had thin, permeable skin like a frog’s, had long tail flukes for swimming, and external gills on the sides of their necks. They were built like miniature crocodiles, splayed out low to the ground across four limbs, and with long, flat heads.
Zephyr plucked one up in his claws, and the others scattered. It had a smooth, rubbery texture, and it made an awkward croak as he held it. Spinning around, Zephyr presented the unusual animal to Tempest. “See,” he said, gently placing the tiny creature into his friend’s claws. “There are other things living in this pond. I think it’s a temnospondyl.”
“Oh, they’re real scary,” Tempest said, dropping the little thing into the pond. It zipped away faster than they could even track it. “So, these are what you were so scared of?”
Zephyr did feel a little silly. Elder Stultum had been attacked by a temnospondyl several years ago, but none of them had ever actually seen one. They had all assumed they must have been serious monsters from his account, not… tadpoles.
“I guess they’re not quite as bad as I thought they were,” Zephyr admitted, pushing himself out away from the shoreline. Maybe there was nothing to fear after all. “Maybe you’re right, Tempest. Maybe I really do need to stop worrying so much.”
“That’s the spirit!” Tempest splashed Zephyr again and then began to paddle off. “I’m gonna go look for Pax, make sure he’s doing okay.”
As soon as Tempest left, Zephyr dove again, flapping his wings and shooting through the water with the same agility as if he were in the air. This really was exciting! He had swam in the creek before, of course, but it was nothing like this. There, the water was much shallower (not that he was ever brave enough to venture out anywhere deep, anyways) and a strong current kept him from gliding as effortlessly as he could in this still pond.
After blasting out of the water, diving back in, and then repeating once or twice, Zephyr contented himself to float on his back across the stagnant pool, soaking in the warmth of the sun overhead and the cool relief of the water below. This day had turned out quite alright, after all.
Something brushed against his tail, cool and rubbery. Another little temnospondyl? Flipping back onto his chest, Zephyr searched the water but saw no signs of life. There it was again! This time it brushed against his leg, and the pterosaur quickly snapped his head down to look for it. Again, he saw nothing, but this time there was a slight churning in the water around him.
Zephyr began to feel a little uneasy. Then again, he had a tendency to feel uneasy most of the time as it was. He still saw nothing, but there was a feeling he just couldn’t shake. Small flecks of mud began to float up around him. The reeds around began to stir. A bubble burst at the surface just beside him, and the pterosaur nearly shot out of the water right there. Something felt very, very wrong.
And then, he saw it. A looming shadow, something enormous, was circling him far below. Without his glasses he could hardly make anything out beyond a blur, but he could certainly recognize the shape by its size.
“Pax?” he said, beginning to slowly paddle again. He was sure it was just his friend, playing another pond-monster. Another bubble burst, and his heart pounded so heavily he almost felt it might burst right out of his chest. The water all around him churned violently, and that looming shape stopped circling. Was it growing larger?
No. It was ascending. Ascending fast!
Zephyr desperately flapped his wings, propulsing forward as quickly as he could manage. The water erupted, a massive head surfacing inches away, just narrowly missing him. A long, flat head burst free of the water, maw agape, jaws larger than he was filled with row upon row of teeth.
“Pax! Tempest! Help!” Zephyr shrieked, leaping forward with all of his might. The great beast propelled itself forward as the pterosaur leapt clear of the water. He vigorously flapped his wing, trying his hardest to catch the air- but he didn’t have the momentum. Zephyr crashed back down into the pond as those colossal jaws dove, disappearing again under the reeds. He barely had time to consider where it had gone before a momentous weight crashed into his chest, winding him and knocking him under the surface.
His beak tore through layer after layer of weeds as he plummeted face-first into the depths. Water churned around him from every side as a massive tail sliced its way through the water, cleaving through it as naturally as his wings through air. He thrashed about, doing his best to right himself, but he could make out no orientation amidst the foaming bubbles and artificial current.
Then, with blistering pain, something struck his wing. Zephyr could no longer move, his wing locked in a vice grip, as he was dragged deeper, and then deeper, down. Sunlight faded beneath the reeds as he descended further and further. He raked his claws in every direction, desperately hoping against hope to strike his attacker. He had no such luck.
The pain was excruciating, some awful beast’s jaws rending through skin, and membrane, and even bone. He flapped, he clawed, he even screamed- trails of bubbles bursting up to the surface- all to no avail. Amidst all the adrenaline and panic and primal terror, a single clear thought wormed its way to the forefront of his mind.
Someone help me. Please.
And then, as he consigned himself to a tragic aphotic destiny, drowned and devoured at the bottom of the pond, he felt another weight pulling at his shoulders, driving with all its might to pull him free. Awful pain lashed at the other end of his body, something terrible ripping straight through his skin- and then he was free. He was ascending rapidly, some other force pulling him to the surface.
With a tumult, air cascaded back into his lungs. Water erupted all around him as his head burst clean into the air again. Blood stained the water all around, and Zephyr could not feel half of his body. He coughed up water and gasped for air with all the strength he could muster, some foreign body pulling him backwards, driving him towards shore.
Senses were returning now. He could see again, the blue sky and the blazing sun overhead. He could taste the blood on his tongue: his blood. He could hear. But what could he hear? There was a voice, someone he recognized, screaming out something he ought to know…
“Zeph! Zeph! Zephyr!” His name! He recognized that. Someone was screaming out his name. He wracked his mind, desperately trying to make out the voice. He recognized it, somewhere in his subconscious, but he couldn’t place it quite right…
“Tempest!” Zephyr shouted, coughing up dregs of water from his throat. “Tempest, is that you?”
“Yes! It’s me, Zeph! You’re gonna be okay, just stay with me!”
More details started to spin back into focus, the world around him regaining dimension and clarity. He was being dragged out of the water now, back onto dry land. He dreaded to look down. He knew what he would see if he did, but he had to. He had to know.
Finally, he looked. His robes were torn to shreds and there were bruises all along the length of his body. One of his legs dangled uselessly, hanging onto his body only by a ligament. His wing was torn asunder, blood pouring from a gaping open wound, trailing throughout the water and now up the beach. Tempest stood over him, strips of cloth from his robe in his wing, doing whatever he could to stem to bleeding.
“By the Order!” Tempest shouted, suddenly grabbing hold of Zephyr again and dragging him backwards. “It’s coming out of the water!”
He was right. There, displacing the water with furious might, a terrible beast propelled itself out from the pond. Its head extended nearly five half feet and was flat and broad, with a pair of eyes situated on the top. Its jaws were agape, rushing water pouring out its open maw. A long tail fluke offered it momentum until it burst up onto dry land, supported by four tiny legs. Zephyr recognized it instantly: a temnospondyl. A Mastodonsaurus, it must have been the adult form of the little creatures they had found earlier; the beast had to be at least twenty feet long. Its body was bloated and hefty, but that hardly slowed it down. Despite an awkward gait, the creature drove itself forward with alarming speed, ravenous jaws snapping, driving straight for the pair of pterosaurs.
Tempest pulled, dragging his friend with every ounce of strength he could, but the monster was gaining on them faster than they could retreat. Thirty feet away. Now 15. Now two yards. Tempest saw the futility of his effort and instead leapt in front of his friend, lifting his wings, offering himself as a shield. It was upon them.
The water erupted for a second time. With a deafening roar, a second beast pounced from out of the pond, latching onto the temnospondyl with gargantuan claws. Pax Excelsus was upon the monster’s back, his claws embedded into its rubbery skin. He rolled, the two colossal creatures spiraling across the mud. The temnospondyl snapped its jaws, kicking off with its feeble legs, but it was no match on land. It was heavier than him, it was longer than him, but it was no match for a terrestrial crocodile in his own element.
Pax dug a back foot into the mud, pressing all his titanic weight into the earth and gaining his footing. His second foot joining the first, Pax rose up onto his hind legs, lifting the abominable amphibian high into the air. His arms threatened to give out as the creature writhed and snapped, but he rose higher and higher still, rearing up as far as he could go. Then, with concerted effort, he withdrew his claws, and the creature crashed back into the mud, squelching into the earth with a sickening crunch.
Now on its back, it still writhed, desperately trying to escape. But it would not. Pax lifted a hind leg and pressed it into the amphibian’s chest, holding it in place. Then, with a final decisive movement, he lowered his head, fixed his jaw upon the beast’s neck, and cleaved its head from its body.
The temnospondyl offered a final defiant spasm and then Pax stepped away, leaving the body to decay in the mud. Blood tricked down his face, and his eyes shone with instinctive bloodlust as he looked back on his friends. Tempest nodded slowly as their eyes met and the fire died down in his friend’s eyes, traded for steady tears.
“I killed him.” Pax said, more to himself than anyone else, his eyes flitting between the dead amphibian and his dying friend. “Could what happened to it happen to any of us?” Pax stared at the dead monster. It was so easy. A single snap of his jaws snuffed out its life forever. “Did it already?”
This temnospondyl was little more than a feral beast, a mindless predator. But they had heard of places far away where these creatures lived peaceably, honorably among each other. Was this what happened to someone abandoned by civilization, forced to survive in the wilds on whatever prey they could find? Was this their natural state? Could this same madness happen to any of them?
Zephyr was on the verge of unconsciousness now, blood still steadily streaming from his gaping wounds.
“We have to get him back,” Tempest said, as calmly as he could manage. His voice was threatening to break. He had never seen anyone die before, now he had seen one; he didn’t want the second corpse he saw to be his friend’s. “The Elders can heal him at the monastery.”
Pax nodded and cast a final look back at the dead amphibian. Some part of him wanted to bury it, to give it the decent burial a sentient creature deserved. But this was no longer anything sentient, if it had ever been. He would let it sink in the mud; the wild beast would be buried by the earth itself. He had a friend to save.
Gingerly lifting up the weak body of the little pterosaur, Pax ran as quickly as his strong legs could manage. Zephyr would live; one death today was already enough.