Vessa led him to a village about two miles from the crash site. Along the way, they passed through a dense forest with bright red leaves, and a stream of rushing cyan water. Everything on this planet was spectacularly vibrant, as though someone had cranked the saturation level way up on his holo-sight. Emerging from the forest, a dirt road broke the domain of the tall grass and led up to the bustling village streets where the footpaths wound lackadaisically between structures of deep brown wood, thatched with yellow straw and clay. The village was built on a series of five hills, and round bodies — creatures similar to Vessa — bounced up and down the village paths, wearing coats of different colors. White, brown, black, and spotted, Wrynn recalled the image of grazing sheep on an idyllic New Herald hillside. As they walked by, some of the creatures waved, others minded their own business, and some of the smaller ones came and walked beside them before Vessa shooed them with a firm hand and sent them giggling away down the path.

Vessa led Wrynn to a home built into the side of one of the hills. The door barely came up to Wrynn’s chest and, bending down, he discovered a number of windows looked out from the home with glass panes set in the natural grassy structure of the hill. It seemed a headache of engineering to his pedestrian mind but showed promised for technological advancement of these aliens. Vessa entered the home without knocking and announced their arrival on stepping through.

“Hello-o-o! Chief?” called Vessa. Some shuffling footsteps from within made a response. Wrynn did not feel comfortable entering with such familiarity so he waited outside for the moment, watching his surroundings.

“Yes, yes. I’m here,” came an weathered voice from within. “Ah, Vessa. What can I do for you?”

“I’ve brought a visitor for you. They are asking about a starport.” Vessa repeated the word in Universal; the creature seemed to have a better memory than Wrynn gave it credit for.

“Where is this visitor, now?”

“Apologies, Chief. It seems they did not have the sense to come into your home. They are very big, however, and might not fit.”

“Let us see, then.” The two sets of footsteps approached the entry and Wrynn made way to let them out. The two rotund beings exited one after the other. The new one, Chief, had grey fur that began as black at some of the roots. Even through its round body and fur, it appeared slightly more hunched over than Vessa or the other creatures, implying some age. Over its beady, black eyes it wore a set of glass spectacles, adding to the list of surprises for a species that apparently had yet to develop space travel.

“Fascinating,” the elderly creature lifted its head to scan the full body of the man. “I have never seen a creature like this before. Give me one moment.” It hobbled back inside the hut without addressing Wrynn.

“Excuse them,” said Vessa. “They are old, but wise.” The OmnittA Stone was unable to detect a gendered pronoun, yet, but this was already an outdated feature of the Universal language.

“No problem,” replied Wrynn. “Vessa, is there a name for your people?”

“A name for the people? Well, each individual has a name. That is Shepherd, and Singer, and Farmer. Together we are Ufuli.” One.

“Ufuli. And do all of your kind live on this hillside?”

“Certainly not. There are Guthli, and Tutuli, Kodoli, and Pretali. Probably more that I do not know. All over our Home you can find someone so you will not be lonely.”

“And have you ever seen anything flying. You know, in the sky?” Wrynn pointed up.

Vessa’s face seemed to turn whiter than usual. “Flying? The only race to fly is the followers of Darkal. They are bad folk on Home. No, no good Ufuli should ever wish to fly.”

“I see.” Wrynn considered pressing further, but the old Chief finally emerged from the house again, this time wielding a thick, dusty tome. They flipped the thin, paper pages and seemed to scan for some information.

“Perhaps a Florg,” the creature said to itself. “Gu stroo Brogo,” it strained to say as it tilted its head to Wrynn. Greetings, honored guest, translated the OmnittA Stone in spite of the shoddy attempt. Wrynn called the setting to display in his holo-sight and it showed Florgura as the language it was translating.

“I appreciate the gesture, old timer.” Wrynn bowed his head in return. “But I’m a Sapiens and I can understand you fine.”

Chief jumped at the perfect response in its own language. “Extraordinary! Who could have guessed an alien species would be able to speak Lili.” It dropped the heavy tome at the doorstep and took a step forward to inspect Wrynn more closely, appearing instantly more friendly after Wrynn (his advanced technology, in truth) had demonstrated his capability for language.

“Yes, yes. It’s good to meet you, too.” Wrynn let the creature paw at his fingers and trousers, but shifted uncomfortably as the innocent elder tried to reach for his weapon. “Listen, Vessa told me you might know something about a starport. Somewhere I would be able to fix my vessel so I can get off planet. I have credits for your trouble.”

Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

“A vessel to go off planet? So you are from space, then? Oh, this is so wonderful! I never thought I would live to see the day.”

“Right, so is there anything like that around here?”

“No,” said Chief simply. “No one leaves Home. So there is no need for such a thing.”

Wrynn chewed his tongue. His expectations were low, but the news still stung. He brushed the creatures off from where they continued to inspect his extremities. “Is there anywhere to get a drink around here, then?”

The curious Ufuli stopped poking him and Vessa spoke up. “We can go to Brewer’s if you require a drink.”

At that time, a horn sounded which was quickly followed by the panicked sounds and movement of the Ufuli. All at once, bodies started scrambling for shelter as the steady sound of the horn continued to blare through the hillside.

“What is that?” asked Wrynn, bending down to hear the response.

“It is the warning horn,” said Vessa. “Scout must have seen the Darkal.”

“Enemies? These Darkal are enemies?”

Vessa nodded. “They cause much damage to our property and they are very bad.”

“Come, you must take shelter.” Chief motioned for the two to join them inside their home. All around was chaos, and some strangers from the street took Chief’s invitation and dashed through the open door that was offered. Wrynn looked out at the horizon in the direction of where the horn was blaring, trying to see if he could pinpoint the object of their fear.

He spied it in the distance. A shadowy cloud was rolling in as the sun was nearly set. And as it got closer, Wrynn could make out the flapping of hundreds of wings accompanied by a great schwoop, schwoop the sound of rhythmic ripples that became a deafening drum beat.

“Come inside, Wrynn.” Vessa grabbed at his hand, but he shrugged off the small sheep-like creature.

“You go. I just want to get a look.” Undoing the strap on his holster, he took a few steps up the path towards the oncoming storm. Usually he would trust the locals to know the dangers of their homeworld better, but he was strangely calm in spite of the fleeing Ufuli. He considered taking up a vantage point where he could identify the threat level, but perhaps it was the bright, fairy tale colors of this foreign world that prevented him from feeling fear. Or maybe the boiling anger that consumed any sliver of other emotions. Anger that he would possibly be stuck on this planet forever. That he would never return home. That the Federation dogs had gotten one over on him and subjected him to this fate.

Wrynn walked directly towards the hurricane of black wings and stood his ground. Soon enough, the Darkal invaders approached, diving at a rapid pace towards the ground. The sky was filled with a sea of black and the flock spread out to harry the hillside. Instead of pulling up, like a bird of prey, the black bodies fell until they struck something solid.

When they landed, they curled their bodies into balls and bounced off the earth like black hailstones. Some of them knocked into trees and rooftops and flew off at odd angles, but even with how fast they impacted, they seemed to cause minimal damage to either the landscape or themselves. Fascinated by the display, Wrynn looked on and he swore he could hear hysterical laughing from the raining furballs.

Thunk. He was not paying attention and was struck directly on the top of his skull by one of the falling Darkal. The impact knocked his head forward but the soft fur collapsed under the creature and cushioned the blow before the ball of fluff knocked up and away back into the air, giggling as it went. Lesson learned, Wrynn took cover under the overhang of one of the buildings and watched the spectacle from a safe distance.

A closer look at the hoard of flying beasts revealed round, furry bodies with stubby arms and legs. When they bounced back into the air, they would pause for a moment and spread their wings out to fly back into the sky for another round. They still resembled sheep, but unlike the Ufuli, they had exclusively black fur and wings about twice the size of their bodies. Each had a pair of red eyes and there were tiny horns sticking out of their heads.

The assault eventually stopped and the Darkal flock, sufficiently entertained, started to gather back in the sky. The large cloud, Wrynn estimated about two hundred in total swept up and up and the schwoop, schwoop of flapping wings announced their departure.

Emerging from his hiding place, Wrynn watched the strange creatures leave. He found their behavior immensely bizarre, without any motivation other than chaos. Some drainage pipes were knocked loose and patches of roofing were scattered on the ground, but no real damage had been done. A single creative pre-teen on Feril could do worse in half the time.

A rustling to his left caught his attention. From a comically large haystack, a single Darkal surfaced, shaking bits of hay from its black body and knocking most of the pile to the ground. It cackled as it examined its work and spread its wings, but before it could take flight Wrynn reached out a hand and clasped onto a handful of fluff.

“Hey, what are you doing?” squeaked the Darkal. “Let me go!” Dialect branch detected. Translation in progress.

“Not so fast.” Wrynn pushed deeper into the layer of fluff to grab onto the soft body of the creature. The Darkal continued to thrash and screech as he squeezed tighter, but eventually settled from the initial shock. “That’s better. Now, I have some questions.”

“I have nothing to say to you,” protested the Darkal. “You’ll have to kill me.”

“Is that so?” Wrynn flashed his teeth at the creature, imagining how the little flying goat creature might taste. “I might reconsider if I were you.”

“Eep! Filthy Ufuli, how did you tame such a terrible thing?”

At this time some of the Ufuli had emerged from their homes and were attracted by the commotion. “This is a Darkal?” “What an awful looking creature.” “So violent, those eyes.” The land-based Ufuli whispered among themselves. It seemed for many of them this was their first encounter up close with a Darkal.

Thwack. Suddenly a broom appeared and slapped the hellish Darkal in the face. “Ow!” Thwack. Another broom. “That’s for my roof!” Thwack. “Naughty, naughty Darkal.” Thwack.

After a couple good hits, the Darkal’s face was swollen and it had lost the energy to flap its wings, hanging limply in Wrynn’s hand. “Please,” it murmured. “Please spare me from these violent Ufuli.”

“Oh, are you willing to cooperate?”

“Yes, yes. I will tell you what you want to know. Just don’t let them hit me.”

Wrynn felt a twinge of pity for the creature, seeing the line of frustrated Ufuli creating a line now to slap justice into the individual when the blame was on the flock. He lifted the Darkal out of reach of the next swinging broom and brought it with him to Chief’s house.