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The Princess's Feathers
41. Welcoming Party

41. Welcoming Party

“Asha, this is Flat Rock.”

A floating island rising from the clouds with a prominent peak in the middle, sloping upwards. [https://www.sarlain.net/img/m2/ch33-1.png]

Rising through the atmosphere like the stigma of a Varecian Rose, Kuro introduces my first glimpse of Flat Rock as we pass through a bank of low-hung clouds. Though to call what I see simply a ‘rock’ would be a tremendous understatement… It’s as big as a mountain!

I find my breath taken away, contemplating the scale of the rock. True to its name, the entire left flank was utterly flat, running at an angle before reaching a small, horizontally flat peak. Contrary to the left side, the right was channeled and scabbed as if a giant hand had scooped out the mountain’s sections, one big handful at a time.

“It’s incredible!” I tell Kuro, flying on my left as we approach the large floating island in the distance. “I’ve never seen something in nature so perfectly flat. This couldn’t be natural, could it?”

She shakes her head. “Keuvra crafted Flat Rock so Kin would have a sanctuary to live in the sky, free from roving prey that would harm them, and sheltered from powerful winds that would blow them off-course.”

I see! That makes a lot of sense. The flat side of the rock is the windward side, which means all the wind gets channeled safely up and over the island. The leeward side would exist in a zone of calm, safe air. I suppose that settles whether Keuvra is their leader or deity: He’s both!

A thermal rushes up from a ridge below, giving us a gentle nudge in the island’s direction. Enyll takes advantage of the boost, giving his wings two quick beats to free the rain built up around them. While me and Kuro hadn’t had any issues flying here, Enyll struggled to keep up at times, straining to keep his labored breaths under control so I wouldn’t hear him.

I actually feel a little bad for him. I want to ask if it’s the rain making it more difficult for him to fly… but this is Enyll we’re talking about, so I’m going to keep my curiosity to myself.

ROOOOARR!

As the island grows close, Kuro calls out ahead of us.

SKREEEAK!

ROORGH!

Two voices answer back, acknowledging our approach. Kuro explained to me that Kin would often announce their take-offs and landings as a safety precaution — when you’re as big as a Dragon and traveling in a group, the clearings in Felra can get crowded quickly. I suppose that’s true, though I personally believe they like how thrilling their calls sound, echoing through the open sky.

Flat Rock becomes focused, and I begin to make out more minor features. Clearings pepper the heavily forested island, populated mainly by low-slung, windswept trees. As I suspected, the leeward side of the rock appeared to be in a zone of calm air as much taller and larger trees were growing in its wake. The stone is dappled gray and black, polished over time by wind and rain to an almost glass-like shimmer. I scan the area for other Lithans and spot a few resting on some of the leeward cliffs. I wonder if they’re the ones who called back to us?

Kuro picks a clearing nearly circular in shape a short distance from the rock. I’m the last to land between the two experienced Kin.

“So, where to from here?” I ask Kuro, shaking my feathers of excess moisture. The drizzle had subsided as we approached the island, but my wings still felt weighed down.

“All the dens are located on the other side of the rock,” she says. “It’s only a short walk through the forest.”

“All right,” I gaze around and inspect the clearing we landed in. The trees at the edges appear intentionally groomed, no doubt to make a landing in this clearing easier for less experienced flyers. Below that, the forest was dense an—

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Something catches my attention near a thicket. My eyes stop, and the bushes rustle. Although the underbrush is dark, I can make out a few peat-colored feathers sticking through the branches of enormously sized gorse. I tense my wings and inquisitively call, “Hello?”

“Uh-oh!” a young voice whispers. The bushes flutter, and the sounds of trodding talons follow, scurrying into the denser pockets of underbrush away from the clearing. I turn to gauge Kuro and Enyll’s reaction and see them looking on with unconcerned expressions. A few seconds later, the source of the disturbance is gone.

I lower my wings to the side. “Seems we had a welcoming party.”

“His name is Tott,” Enyll grumbles, shaking his head. “That boy is a brat.”

Kuro moves to stand by my side. “There’s no need to raise your wings in provocation here. The only large creatures on this island are Kin.”

I nod, remembering that Keuvra created this place solely for Kin. Anywhere I roam should be safe. “Do fledges normally greet you when you land?”

“No,” Enyll says. “That’s unusual. We should head into camp, something must be happening there.”

Kuro signals to follow and leads us down a dark, tree-lined path through the forest, just large enough for two Lithans to travel side-by-side. The ground is trampled and free of obstructions, clearly indicating that this route is used regularly. I sniff the air for fresh scents of Kin, perhaps the fledge who just ran away, but only take in the aromatic smells of damp wood and fern.

My mind wanders as we walk, and a tinge of anxiousness grows in my chest. Just how many Lithans live at their ‘camp’? Kuro said we were only going to take a rest here, but what if one of them asked me about something I don’t know?

“Kuro,” I call out in front of me. “You’re not going to introduce me to the flock here, are you?”

“No,” she shakes her head. “I believe the elders at White Mountain should meet you first. They will know what’s best for you.”

What’s best for me? Well, that’s a bit ominous. I think I know pretty well what’s ‘best’ for myself, thank you. When Kuro mentioned Keuvra and the Elders last night, she didn’t want to elaborate on what might be expected if I joined their flock. If Keuvra is their leader, how much influence do the elders really have?

Enyll rustles behind me. “And if someone recognizes she’s not Kin?”

“I’ll handle it,” Kuro answers quickly. “We’re heading straight to my sister’s den. Nobody will have time to notice her.”

We continue, passing under trees that explode in size and shape, the scents of Kin turning stronger and blending with the smells of burnt wood ash. The path begins to thin until it reaches an Elderus and seemingly ends. I’m about to ask Kuro when she leaps onto one of the tree’s gnarled roots and begins stepping from one to the next. I follow suit, finding that the tops are worn down and smooth. Just how many talons have trod these steps before me?

I canter over the roots, matching Kuro’s steps, so I don’t tumble off the side. She ambles around the corner of a huge one and disappears. When I trace her steps and find myself on the other side, I’m treated to a terrific view.

“Goddess above…!”

The path opens, and we find ourselves on the perimeter of the enormous Kin camp, perched in the shadow of Flat Rock. Fledglings bound and play at ground level, darting through the grass around a massive fire pit dug out in the center of the clearing. Along the far left side of camp, Flat Rock rises like a mountain, following a steep climb where dens were carved into the face of the rock on no less than five different terraced levels, giving plenty of space for Kin to rest on the rocks. My gaze is drawn skyward as a Kin lopes from one of the higher levels and gently glides into the grassy clearing.

I stand awestruck, amazed that such organized and lively settlements have likely existed in Felra since ancient times, utterly separate from the development of ascendant society. An agitated gruff from behind reminds me that I’m holding up the line into camp, so I follow Kuro’s lead and bound to the grass below. A moment later, Enyll follows.

“I’m going to find my sister,” he announces contentedly. “You and Asha can fly to White Mountain by yourselves.”

“Very well,” Kuro gives a curt reply. “I suppose I’ll meet you back at the del—“

“She’s here, she’s here!”

A caterwaul halfway up the rock’s side splits the air like a talon’s claw. We snap our heads skyward to see a peat colored fledge gazing over a jagged ledge with wild eyes. “Everyone, the Farlander is here!!”

“What?!” I reflexively stumble backward, moving closer to Kuro’s wing. How does this petulant child know I’m a Farlander? And why is he announcing it out loud!?

All at once, young and old, the attention of the entire camp is diverted to our group of three. Kin emerge from the dens and the far unseen crevices of the scalloped rock wall, ruffling their feathers in anticipation of getting their first glimpse of the strange outsider. As they talk, a murmur rises from the growing crowd, pointing their wings and gazing squarely at me. My talons curl into the soft ground. I’m used to standing in front of large crowds of people, so why does this one feel so much more intimidating?

A wing nudges me from Enyll’s side. He moves close to my ear and murmurs, “Told you that boy was a brat.”

For once, I find myself in complete agreement with Enyll’s aggravation.