((EDIT February 21, 2018 Wensday))
A/N: So, err…
I know it's been awhile guys. I have reasons, and can't explain them all to you, but my life has been hectic.
Before you start panicking, No, I am NOT abandoning this fic. But updates will continue to be slow.
I have a lot of, well, I guess 'minor' health issues I deal with on a daily basis, and I am part of a situation that I have to help with, let's say. But I'm okay, I will BE okay, and I hope to find more time to write :)
I will admit that since April 14th I joined a new fandom (it rivals One Piece in length) so I was a little distracted this last particular month.
This story is planned out: will end around chapter 28 or 30, so we still got a ways to go. I apologize if my writing is a little dull this chapter.
I just want to thank you all for your amazing patience, and to all those who have followed/favourited. You have no idea how ECSTATIC I am that we are in the 50s; thanks guys!
Shoutouts to: Piper496, GodofGreed, actresspdx, Shiloh, KawaiiFangirlOvrLord, Guest(1), coolstar422, acrisafu, Guest(2), satknightcat5815, HMP, and nruiz2260 (now Pegasister60)for leaving reviews! (and some of you more than once, so thanks!)
DISCLAIMER: NOooooooOooOoOOoOOPE. Also, T. mentioned a certain cryptid suggestion a while back. You'll meet 'em in part 2.
((*Also, this is a completely made up climate/place. If something similar exists, cool. And I don't know if the head covering Wadi wears is because of where she lives, if it's part of her religion, or culture. So to avoid saying the wrong term I'm going to refer to it as a head-covering. Please let me know if it should be changed to a particular term if you find it offensive))
"There is nothing like the feeling of flight; even if we, as humans, can never physically experience it (at least in the sense of a bird or bat), it can still be imagined. All I have to do is see through my mind the wind streaming past, and feeling it, along with the burning of muscles not-quite in my back, nor my shoulders, but somewhere in-between; seeing the world rushing by in a blur and smelling drafts of ice-ridden gusts and sun-warmed currents of air; as the great star itself warms me, I strain and everything from my wings to my lungs burns, and the air grows thin as I make my ascent to the heavens, and then -
I fall.
Dropping, hurtling towards rapid-growing ever-earth, waiting to pull up at just the right moment...
That's how I see it, how I feel it; how I imagine flight.
And in a way, experience it."
-Subtle Shenanigans (March 5, 2016 Saturday)
Ascent Part 1
Ragged breaths were heard, drawn in and out, as she ran for her life, heart pounding so hard that she knew they heard it.
(Could he, so far away, hear the danger she was in through the ears of these creatures?)
It was eerie: they hunted, almost silently, only paw steps and the air pushed harshly out of their snouts to be heard. The occasional yip or yowl. She heard it again: like a drawn out coyote howl, but at a higher, whining pitch.
She wouldn't make it.
That's what crossed her mind as she stumbled on rocks and pits in the semi-barren land, dusty and dry with minimal swaths of ugly, dull green here and there. Sparse, spindly trees popped up around her as she drew nearer to one of the rock-plateau structures that jutted from the ground like strange growths.
She heard the sound rise again; get passed along. She was being hunted, and she knew it.
The sun cast out relentlessly, and she was glad for her black-fabric head-covering. On one hand it made her more visible. On the other hand, they would hunt her even if she was invisible.
Something clacked near her heels, and she realized too late that it had been teeth snapping for a tendon.
They had caught up with her.
She hurried faster, heart bursting and throat burning, only gaining a few more feet. Soon enough she had to stop, stupidly running into one of the great monoliths that stretched towards the sky. She looked up its great height with wide, pale blue eyes flecked with green and brown.
The base was too smooth to climb; the ledges too high to reach.
She spun around at a snarl, same eyes gazing at one of the pack-things, her eyes still wide.
Human eyes met hungry eyes.
It prepared to spring.
A sudden screech rang out, tearing into the moment, almost hawk-like, and talons sunk into her shoulders, gentle but firm. A mighty downward collapse of wings lifted them just as the thing leapt, smacking muzzle first into stone and leaving a smear of red. It gave a yelp, then howled mournfully at the lost prey, others of its kind joining in. It looked up furiously, foam from slavering jaws dripping as they disappeared into the sky.
A laughing, Hawk-cry rang out, its gleeful sound alone countering the lost-hunt wailing.
LINE BREAK LINE BREAK LINE STEAK LINE BREAK
Almost two hours earlier…
They were getting there, slowly (to Zak) but surely. The plan was simple.
Zak and Ulraj were to be dropped off with Doyle and Zon, and together they would help Wadi. Doc - and especially Drew - weren't happy leaving Zak alone after their last adventure, but Miranda needed help as much as Wadi. Neither would - or could - be ignored.
So Doc and Drew would drop them off and go help their fellow Secret Scientist. Fiskerton and (presumably) Komodo would stay on board to keep an eye on Abbey Gray.
For the whole ride Zak was agitated, struggling to clamp down the gruesome images his mind conjured. Doyle, his 'brave' uncle who bordered on fearless, had seemed scared - afraid even, which only meant one thing.
Whatever was endangering them must be really, really bad.
Or really viscious.
A hefty bump of turbulence brought him out of his thoughts. His eyes flickered up to meet Ulraj's, which reflected the same worry. Even though the three of them didn't hang out much, they were all fairly close friends.
Fiskerton paced around the control room, fidgety, until he eventually opted to plop down next to Zak. He muttered something, sounding even more nonsensical than usual, and Zak patted his shoulder in comfort. It was going to be hard for them, since their brotherly bond ran deep; deeper still because they were Kur and the Kur Guardian. It would be difficult, to say the least.
Another harsh bump resounded through the ship, and Zak began to start tapping his fingers nervously. The silence was stifling.
He felt them descend, the pit of his stomach getting that odd, dropping feeling, and he glanced out, peering through the dusty glass and past the white wisps of cloud that stretched across the azure sky. Goldish oranges and browns filled his vision as the land rose up, dusty with bits of scrub here and there. His eyes flickered. Rock formations rose, some impossibly high, and when the Airship finally came in for a landing, he could feel how uneven the ground was.
They left the airship quickly within the next few minutes. Zak jumped out of the door and landed in a graceful crouch, dust rising up around him. Ulraj followed, hitting a little softer, but was oddly void of any boastful comments about strength. Then again, it wasn't the time for petty arguments or jokes. Someone's life could be on the line.
Hearing a shout the two adolescents turned to see Doyle hurrying towards them. He looked worse than before: Hair grimy with dust and unkempt, clothing shredded and covered with dirt, his jetpack dinged up. Around his left ankle was a dark wrapping, spattered with what Zak suspected to be blood, rather than more dirt.
Doyle stopped when he got there, hands on his knees as he caught his breath. He waved a hand, craning his neck up towards Doc and Drew, wheezing, "Hey guys."
Doc refrained from making a sarcastic or rude comment (for that was their habit, but he knew it wasn't really a good time) and Drew shouted down, "Make sure you take care of my boys Doyle - or else."
The redhead stood up straight, confusion edging his voice. "Where are you guys going?"
Doc's voice was strained as he replied, "A fellow scientist is in massive trouble; we're trusting that you, the boys, and Zon can take care of things here."
Doyle nodded, give Doc a little salute. "Got it. We'll communicate with you as soon as we can."
"Zak, stay out of danger!" "Be careful boys!" His parents shouted down, voices mingling.
Fisk called down too, fear in his voice, "Hrrwye! Hrray sfaffre!"
Then the door closed and the airship was gone.
Time was of the essence, after all.
Doyle wasted no time himself. His eyes darted across the landscape as he gave a piercing (Zak tried not to flinch) whistle. His uncle's voice came out hushed, a breathless sort of garble Zak barely understood. "We've gotta get going before they get here. C'mon!"
Ulraj blinked in confusion, a 'wha…?' trailing from him as Zak grabbed his arm and raced after Doyle, who had begun to hurry ahead.
The sand beneath them was more gritty in a sense, with rocks and wood bits in it. There were areas where the strange, monolithic, mountain-like structures reached for the sky, with spindly trees so dead looking that they seemed fake. The monoliths weren't many, and aside from the few that congregated near one another (a spindly tree 'forest' at their base) the only other ones were too far to reach. A few prickly and brittle bushes were around too, and Zak tried to ignore how they tore into the orange fabric of his pants, scratching his legs. A look at the fishprince told Zak that he was doing the same.
They soon caught up with Doyle, almost smacking into him as he made an immediate stop. Zak glanced up as a shadow passed over him. When the figured landed, he ran up to her and threw his arms around her neck. "Zon!" "Khyaa!"
Doyle had slumped down to take a sip of water. He capped the canteen and rubbed his arm across his mouth before nodding to her once. "Glad you made it, Jurassic."
She made a kee sound at him in response. A small grin ghosted Zak's face as he ruffled her scales. Ulraj cautiously let Zon sniff one of his webbed hands, flinching at one of her welcoming screeches.
(This was his first time formally meeting the she-cryptid.)
"So," Ulraj began hesitantly. "What exactly is the … 'situation', Mr. … ?"
"You can just call me Doyle, fishman." Doyle grinned at the Fishprince's confused - and almost offended - expression. Zak plopped down next to his uncle and elbowed him.
"He's right to ask, Uncle Doyle; what is going on? You said that … Wadi was in trouble… ?"
Doyle glanced at his nephew; although Zak seemed relaxed - no, serious but calm - about the situation, his eyes were another matter. Orangey-brown, they burned with a fire different than his power, and shone with worry for his friend. Doyle could almost imagine the scenarios passing through the kid's mind: that she was injured and all alone, unconscious somewhere, mauled…
Doyle sighed. He took another draught of water then explained.
"I was in the area where the Hassi live a while back and ran into them. Maboul recognized me, luckily, and they had me stay for a bit, wanting to catch up and hear how you guys were doing.
Well, Wadi was being her usual, restless and sticky-fingered self, stealing here and there - girl's a Kleptomaniac, I tell you - and eventually got into a fight with her father. Turns out Maboul has an … ally out here, I guess, who'd been sending him letters about some trouble. So he asked, or should I say, begged that I go check it out and take Wadi with me." Doyle shook his head and gave a small chuckle. "Tryin' to kill two birds with one stone I guess; get help for a friend and give his daughter time to cool down all in one."
"What happened then?" Ulraj inquired.
"Well," he said, putting the water away into his jetpack (which was more of a backpack with jets, which seemed to be damaged). "We get out here to this barren wasteland and we couldn't even find the guy's shack! So we camped for the night, planning on searching for the shack the next day. That's when we heard them."
"Who?" both boys asked.
Doyle shouldered his pack and simply said, "The Bristlepack."
"The … Bristlepack?" Ulraj asked incredulously.
Before Doyle could explain further, a sound shrilled out, wavering in pitch. They all stiffened. Some instinct inside Zak coiled and sparked; the human part of him making the hair on the back of his neck prick, but the Kur part of him deep down wanted to growl. The sound dropped off suddenly, then started again. Zak had no doubt now: they were being hunted.
Doyle leapt up, eyes wide. "We've gotta go! Now!"
They began running, hearing something crash and burst through the brush. Zak's sharp sense of hearing picked up the sound of light, swift pawsteps haring after them. He picked up speed, hearing his uncle yelling, "Go! Go! Go!"
Ulraj stumbled, and both Doyle and Zak stooped to pick him up. Zak glanced around as they got the fishprince to his feet, seeing a monolith up ahead, and spindly trees protruding all around, like jagged bones jutting out from a grave. They wouldn't make it in time.
Some growls sounded behind him, then began circling around. Whatever they were, they were forming a pincer maneuver and cutting them off from escape.
Zak turned around sharply, trying to pull the claw off it's hook, too late in getting it out and too late in hearing Ulraj's cry as something heavy bowled into him.
And the roof became azure sky.
To be continued in Ascent Part 2…