For the first time, I’m flying through the sky with someone else besides me.

It hasn’t been easy.

After she agreed to let me ‘talk’ to the airship, Kuro wasted no time thrusting into the air, effortlessly able to find a way to climb through the currents and begin flying south. I followed after her but found it much harder to locate the updrafts she was so easily able to ride on. Straining to gain altitude, by the time I flew high enough to match her she had already gained a considerable lead on me to the edge of the continent. It took me a few moments of fast flying to catch up to her.

It’s clear Kuro has untold years of flying experience over me. Ykuvi had an impressive landing back in the clearing, too. Just how skilled are the flyers of this ‘Kin’ they keep talking about?

We fly side-by-side, our wings only a few yards apart. Looking over I see Kuro staring back at me a little cross. “Y-You took off way faster than I could,” I explain, short of breath.

“I didn’t take off any faster than I normally do.”

“Kuro, you’ve been flying your entire life. I didn’t even have feathers until a few days ago.”

Kuro looks away, her expression unchanged. But after a moment she starts beating her wings less to slow to a more gentle glide.

“Thank you,” I reply softly. She stays silent keeps her head pointed forward.

We fly low, skirting just over the tops of trees. I suppose Kuro is flying this low intentionally because she believes she’ll be less visible to the airship. It’s strange to consider that mighty Lithans, the apex predator of the moon, are worried about the threat posed by a single, very flammable airship. But it makes sense if you think about it.

When Enyll called the airship a ‘wretched beast’, I realized that Lithans don’t see airships as… an airship. They believe they’re just another feral animal like themselves. A very strange and bad-smelling one, I’m sure. As ferals, how could they understand the notion that something is ‘created’ by hand with raw materials? They don’t even have hands!

That’s when I got the idea that I could ‘talk’ to the airship and tell it to leave. Of course, I won’t actually be talking to the airship, but I am going to threaten it.

Flying through enemy territory to try and attack a Lithan off the Northern Continent… whoever’s unfortunate enough to be on that ship has got to be scared out of their wits. Surely they understand just how daft of a mission they’re on.

They were ordered to come all the way out here just to find me. If I fly out and confront the ship over clear air, they won’t have a reason to fly inland and harass other Lithans. So, all I have to do is threaten the ship and become the big, terrifying monster they think I am. I’m almost certain they’ll turn around, tails tucked between their legs, and return to Ellyntide.

It bothers me a little bit, having to do things this way and not be completely forthright.

It’s not that I’m lying to Kuro… at least, I don’t think I’m being duplicitous. But how could I explain the nuance of a veiled threat and the politics around the ship being here? It’s just easier to simplify things in terms they already understand — they believe Airships are feral animals. The easiest way to explain what I’m doing is to say I’m ‘talking’ to the feral. If it achieves the same result, does it matter how I communicate it to them?

We continue flying until we bank to pass a large elderus that’s been blocking our view of the sky in front of us. A great wind whips our feathers as we pass to the other side, and the trees begin to thin down to a grassy, windswept plain. Off on the horizon, just as Ykuvi claimed, is an airship floating silently in the sky.

“Goddess above,” I say to myself. “Mother, what have you done?”

I thought mom would have sent a smaller vessel like one of our lightly armed scout ships. Something that flies fast and has a better chance of moving through enemy airspace discretely. But what I see in the sky before me isn’t just an airship. This is an Air Destroyer.

A ponderous, beast of an airship that’s more than twice the size of the Blue Daemon. Slow flying and armed to the fangs with steam cannons, they’re easily the biggest ships in the fleet. Mom’s decision to send this class in particular shows just how seriously she’s taking the threat of Lithans retaliating against it. Either that or she just really wants me dead.

“Your mother sent the airship-prey?” Kuro asks as I gaze at the sky.

“Yes,” I say. “My mother is the Queen of Ellyntide — our leader. All our airship-prey follow her orders.”

“And it’ll listen to you over her?”

See, I knew she wanted to learn more!

“It will,” I say simply. Kuro is curious, but I don’t want to elaborate too much about how this is going to go down. The truth is, I’m not entirely sure myself.

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Below us a group of Lithans are standing next near a windswept oak, watching the ship hover off in the distance. Enyll, Ykuvi, and a smaller, chestnut plumaged drakaina. As we approach them Kuro cries out below, just like Ykuvi did before his landing in the clearing. We land a short walk from the oak and approach the group from behind.

“Foul-smelling beast. Why do they just fly around in circles?” asks the Chestnut plumaged Lithan, a female with an older-sounding voice. The horns on the back of her head are longer than everyone else’s, curving around to point forwards.

“Who knows,” says Enyll. “Airship-prey are as senseless as the Farlanders who allow themselves to be eaten by them.”

Wait, what?! Eaten?

…Ohhhh, he means the platforms on the exterior of airships! Airwomen sometimes exit the cabin to get a better view of things in the sky, or to inspect a particular piece of machinery located on the hull. Lithans must see this happening and think the airship is eating and regurgitating animals.

…That’s actually quite morbid to think about. It seems the more I learn about Lithan perspectives, the more I understand why they’re so terrified of airships.

The reason this one is flying around in circles isn’t difficult to understand, though. “It’s waiting for orders on what to do next,” I speak out to the group.

The Lithans turn their necks and Enyll looks repulsed to see me. “You, again?!” he kvetches.

The chestnut Lithan tilts her head. “Who’s this?”

“Some despicable, maddening Loner that Kuro seems to have become friends with,” Enyll says, casting a dubious glance past me and onto Kuro.

“She has nothing to do with this,” I growl, moving to stand in front of the bigger, copper drakon. “I’m here because I want to stop the airship-prey before it hurts anyone. I’m going to talk to it and tell it to leave.”

Enyll scoffs. “Talk to an airship?!”

“That’s right,” I counter.

Asha and Enyll stare down each other. Enyll is markedly larger than Asha is. [https://www.sarlain.net/img/m2/ch28-1.png]

“How can you talk to an airship-prey?” asks the chestnut Lithan without a trace of hostility. Out of the corner of my eye, I spot Ykuvi starting to act concerned about something.

Enyll waves a wing in a dismissive manner. “Ignore her, Gima, This one has completely lost her mind. It’s Impossible to talk to airship-prey.”

Irritation begins growing under my feathers. “You can believe whatever you want. I’m going to fly out there and tell the airship-prey to leave. If you don’t like it then stay here and watch me.”

“You’ll do no such thing,” Enyll growls, opening up his wings to block me. “A mad Loner like you will only provoke the monster into flying inland.”

I’m getting tired of this dude. “I’m a Farlander, I know how to talk to airship-prey. It’ll leave if I order it to return to Ellyntide!”

Gima and Ykuvi exchange disbelieving glances at each other but stay out of the exchange.

Enyll bares his teeth and lowers into an attack stance. “Again with the Farlander nonsense! If you take one step further towards that airship—“

“Enyll,” Kuro calls out to interrupt him. He pauses, staring with an eyebrow raised as Kuro moves to stand next to me. “Let her do it.”

“What?” he hisses, his expression plummeting. “Kuro, have you los—“

“If she’s telling the truth, then the airship-prey leaves and nobody gets hurt. If she’s lying…” Kuro trails off. She locks eyes with mine and hisses, “Then the flock has one less Loner to deal with.”

I nod slowly. Point taken.

Enyll continues growling for a moment before he loosens and lowers his wings. “Alright, fine. We’ll do it your way, Kuro. I’ll be glad to explain to your grandmother why we had to kill an airship-prey and start a forest fire in harvestwing.”

I hate to admit it, but I can understand Enyll’s concern. Clearly, Lithans know from past experiences that when an airship ‘dies’, it explodes in fire. An explosion here in the middle of autumn (or harvestwing as they seem to call it,) when everything is dry and kindling would be a disaster. Enyll has good reason to be apprehensive of the airship flying over land and retaliating. It’s misplaced apprehension, of course. Their mission was to fly out here and look for me. If I come to them instead they won’t have any reason to fly inland.

Gima shakes her head disbelievingly. “Wait, wait, wait. This fress… she really thinks she’s a Farlander?”

“It’s a long story,” I concede. “But, yes. A few days ago I was a Lemur living in Ellyntide. Somehow, I took this form.”

She examines me for a moment, looking me up and down like I were some kind of specimen in my brother’s lab. “You know of forbidden knowledge, and yet you are not Kin,” she rasps, squinting age-marred eyes. "I’ve lived enough seasons to have heard every long story that’s ever been told by a stranger. Nobody learns that information unless they are told by someone else.”

“Or she’s telling the truth,” Kuro offers.

Gima furrows her brows and frowns. “She speaks of impossible things. How can you of all Kin believe her, Kuro?”

“I agree,” adds Ykuvi. “Prey becoming Lithan… that’s absurd. The only logical explanation is some bitter exile spoke of the Farlands to her.”

Enyll rolls his eyes, amused that their concerns mirror his own. He steps away from the group and works to preen his wings on the leeward side of the windswept oak. At least these other two Lithans are being civil instead of downright hostile. The more Enyll opens his muzzle, the more I understand why Kuro seems to have something against him.

Kuro remains silent, ruffling her feathers slightly. Seemingly giving in to their objections she looks down, deferring to me for a response to Gima and Ykuvi.

Well, um, alright then. What should I tell them?

I exhale, feeling the weight of skeptical gazes bearing down on me. As a Lemur I was always one of the tallest girls in the room, but as a Lithan I seem to have become comparatively short. For the first time in my life, I feel small.

“I don’t expect you to trust or believe me,” I tell them. “The truth is, I don’t understand how this could have happened to me, either. But Enyll and Kuro showed me the bonds of compassion exist here in your territory as they do in mine. They saved my life and offered me prey. Telling the airship-prey to leave is the least I can do to repay that kindness.”

The two Lithans stare at me in silence, their expressions softening a little. Umm, that sounded rather poignant. It wasn’t too sappy for them, was it?! Man, that sounded just like something mom would say in some speech to a crowd of people! I just made it up on the spot!

A breeze from the edge blows through us, and I take in another whiff of the acrid scent of the airship. It seems like it’s changed course. Unwilling to give them any time to object, I dip my head to the skeptical drakes. “Well, if you’ll excuse me.”