Before I begin, I would like to send out a special thanks to JulianR84, Historian1912, and The Wasp for their help and suggestions with this chapter. There is one scene in particular that would be much diminished without their critical input and suggestions. Thanks, guys!
Chapter 3: Light above, light below
"Fire may be represented as the destroyer of all sophistry, and as the image and demonstration of truth; because it is light and drives out darkness which conceals all essences."
~Leonardo da Vinci
Petrie's first hint that consciousness had returned to him was a loud groan that emanated from his own body. The second hint was the dull throbbing of his wings at the abuse of the previous few days. It was then that recognition returned to his mind.
Pursuit of Endless Day. Third Day. Not Dead Yet.
Reluctantly, he forced his eyes open.
"Bout time ya woke up! Knacker wanted to talk to ya before nephews woke up."
Petrie hurriedly raised his wing to cover his eyes only to have it forcefully held back by the elder flyer.
"And stop that crap! Obviously the Bright Circle didn't teach you that custom for a' reason."
The flyers held that awkward pose for several moments, with Petrie's right wing raised and Knacker blocking it with his own until both of them appeared to realize how stupid they looked at the same instant and pulled back from one another.
Which gave Petrie just enough time to cover his eyes with the other wing before giving the elder flyer a smirk.
Knacker sighed and rolled his eyes. "I see that Ulan's rubbed off on ya'. Hmmm…"
He then allowed himself a healthy laugh as he cocked his head backwards. The laugh was boisterous and grand, but there was something missing. Something that made Petrie tilt his head with concern. It sounded hollow. The sound that would be made if one's voice had lost its vigor after many coughs. But then again, the emotion was all there. The contrast was jarring to the flyer as if the two should not go together. But eventually, as the first hint of the Bright Circle's rays still hid behind the horizon, his mind put two and two together.
He relieved that he die today.
Petrie didn't know if it was something in his expression or merely a change to his eyes, but Knacker was in his face immediately.
"No don't get all slobbery on me, Petrie! You'll need that energy for the three days of crap coming yer way after I land on somethin' head-first."
Petrie recoiled as if a blasphemy had been uttered. "Knacker!"
The elder flyer, however, merely shook his head. "I've made peace with it, young one. But now, if you are willing, I think that we need to talk about what is coming."
Petrie nodded slowly at Knacker's request as he moved over on the bluff that had been Petrie's sleeping spot for the night. Soon they are both situated side by side as if they were merely waiting to watch the Bright Circle peek over the horizon together. But they both knew this would be the last chance to talk privately before the hurried activity of the third day arrived. The last meal to gorge themselves. The last stretch to prevent cramping. And the last time to look at the Bright Circle before they had to turn away from it for the long unending flight home.
"I already got the nuts and sweet bubbles piled up near em' so that should be enough to ensure they don't have to forage too much," Knacker noted.
Petrie merely looked at the elder flyer as if he had lost his mind. Me should do that, not you. You need rest, you need… Recognition hit him then. You don't need. Today your death day.
"There is enough for you, too, young one. But I would stick to more of the nuts than sweet bubbles in your case."
Petrie paused for a moment before tilting his head inquisitively. "Any reason why?"
"You're not full grown yet, and the trip back is a brutal one," Knacker said matter-of-factly, "The energy from nuts fade slower than from the sweet bubbles. You will need some sweet bubbles though."
Petrie nodded as he remembered bits and pieces of old lessons. "Me need the sweet bubbles' water in case it not rain on trip back."
Knacker nodded. "Right. And even if it does rain I can't imagine flying around like this would do you any favors."
The older flyer then proceeded to pretend to be flying with his beak gaping open and his tongue flopping out. His eyes were wide for emphasis.
In a desperate effort not to wake the others by laughing out loud Petrie held his beak shut with his wing before choking out a sardonic question. "You sure you not have mind sickness too?"
Knacker snorted at this. "Me hatched with that."
Petrie chuckled at the elder's joke as he nodded to himself.
"But it is the others that we need to talk about," Knacker suddenly noted in a serious tone, "Because it isn't until food is scarce and hope is lost that you truly see how people are."
Petrie's expression darkened as well, remembering the sniping at one another and the disagreements when he and his friends left for the Great Valley so long ago. Such pressures could forge friendships and break apart acquaintanceships. There was little room in between.
"If your path is not blessed by rain, then heat will be a problem, especially for the darker flyers. Some of em' might go a bit crazy, if you know what I mean."
"Like… in attack some of us?"
Knacker nodded. "Aye. Or go the wrong way. There are stories that flyers have been lost in the past by following the mad ones or trying to help them."
Petrie's eyes went wide.
Knacker sighed. "But… it is hard to tell how often that happens. Most of the old timers do not want to dwell on that stuff." He then blinked. "Well, dead ones, none of those old timers I talked to in my younger days are around, I suppose."
"You talk to them because you thought about doing this?" Petrie inquired.
Knacker nodded. "Aye, but Knacker eventually decided it was not my way. It was too risky and sounded too awful. I would only do this when it was time for me to die."
It took the elder flyer a few moments to notice Petrie's exasperated look. "Sorry. I guess that wasn't much of a pep talk."
Petrie shrugged. "It not wrong, though. Is there anything else that Petrie should know?"
Knacker smiled. "Just remember to keep yer' wits about ya, kid. Do what you can to keep my nephews on the path, but don't stray from the path yourself."
"But Petrie give you my…"
"Yeah, and that is the problem. Knacker ain't asking you to get yourself killed. This journey is a tough one, kid, even for the most prepared of us. If your help is what keeps some of my nephews on the path… then Knacker will forgive you for the lost ones. I only ask that you do what you can."
Petrie was stunned into silence. He did not want to agree with the elder's modification of the terms, but he knew that he could not argue with the wisdom of his words.
"Want to take a peek back home?"
Petrie turned his head at the elder, not expecting the sudden change of subject. The elder merely shrugged.
"It's not like I will see it again. We will have to fly as soon as the Bright Circle sees us."
Petrie nodded and shifted his position so as to see in the other direction. "Petrie not mean to be rude, but you night blind, right?"
Knacker smiled. "You're a sharp kid. It is more of a gesture. Knacker wants to say goodbye."
This time when Petrie covered his eyes with his wing Knacker did not protest the action. The time for words had passed and the time for deeds had arrived. It was only after an appropriate period of time had passed that Petrie dropped the gesture and stared at the darkened terrain in front of him. Even if Knacker could not see the details of the lands he had departed, Petrie could take in their haunting pre-dawn hues. It was both a reminder of the journey that they had accomplished and a reminder of what was about to transpire.
This gonna suck.
Despite the foreboding that was filling his soul, Petrie did take pride in what he had already accomplished. He had persevered to the midpoint. If nothing else, unless something managed to eat him in the next day, he will have made it to the journey back. That alone was more than those who had sent him here had probably expected. Allowing himself to imagine the route back, he followed the terrain that was visible to him. The Red Cliffs, now clouded in darkness, stood a good day away. And he knew behind them, another day passed, stood the Land of Mists. Then, if he were lucky, home would beckon to him like a light in the darkness.
In fact he could almost imagine that right now as his tired eyes saw an odd glow in the distance.
"Now, Knacker can't see much with his fading eyes. But is that the Grassy Plains on fire?"
Petrie froze at the elder's question as he took a serious scan of the skies. Sure enough, where Petrie's poetic mind had imagined the land beckoning to him, he saw the dull glow for what it really was: a massive wildfire in the distance. Which meant that the clouds in the skies above were something far, far more ominous. Because where there was fire there was heat, and where there was heat there were unpredictable wind currents.
The journey back home had just become much more complicated.
"Wake up, you lazy pile of bones!"
Verpos did not get his friend the satisfaction of seeing him be startled awake as he intentionally, and slowly, rose from his perch. My friend, you are entirely too excitable.
"Come on, Verpos!"
The flyer groaned as he opened his eyes and noticed it was still not dawn. "You know, it is a good thing the Bright Circle is not up to see you acting so foolishly. Now what has gotten you so worked up, Ulan?"
"The fucking lowlands are on fire!"
Verpos had not exactly known what to expect as an answer from his friend, but the mere mention of fire was enough to make him quickly take to the air to see what Ulan was talking about. It did not take him long to see the horrific sight in the distance.
Though the night still prevailed over the landscape, the light from the fires enveloped the horizon in a ghastly orange glow. Against such a backdrop the stars, usually quite visible, disappeared from clear view. It was as if outside of the watchful gaze of the Bright Circle the stars of the ancestors had abandoned them. Leaving them to the glare of the uncaring Night Circle.
It was only then, as he stared at the scorched terrain in the distance, that the audible mutterings of fear and concern from the others made themselves known to his ears. It was obvious that any chance to get a longer rest on this third night was now at an end. For better or worse they would have to get by on what they had.
A growling from Verpos's stomach told another story, however. Sleep might be lost to them, but food was another story.
"We focus on eating, then."
Ulan looked at his friend as if he had gone mad.
Verpos put his wing on the other's shoulders. "My friend, if we are to survive this, then we need to focus on what is important. Once we get to the Land of Tears we will not sleep or eat until we get back home."
Ulan sputtered. "That's assuming we get home!"
Verpos sighed. "If we don't, then we don't. You know it is the Bright Circle's will."
He watched over the next few moments as Ulan's demeanor changed several times, from defiance to the thought of not surviving, to fear of the possibility, and then to confusion. You had not considered that as a real possibility until now. Have you, my friend?
Verpos sighed. "All we can do now is stuff our beaks so that we have the energy to get back. As for the fire and the winds… that will be up to the Bright Circle when it rises. All we can do is hope and offer our prayers."
Ulan sighed as he took that in. But then, almost as suddenly, his eyes took on a determined glint.
Verpos rolled his eyes in amusement. Here it comes...
"We also need to make sure that we get water! I will get some sweet bubbles before the younger ones snatch them all! You get the leaves and nuts!"
And just like that Ulan was in flight, hurriedly looking for their final meal in a long while.
Verpos snorted. "Whatever your faults my friend, you have initiative and confidence," he then turned to face the burning terrain once more, "I suspect that we will need it."
Enjoy the meal, young uns'. It will be the last one for awhile.
Knacker watched as his three nephews devoured the sweet bubbles, nuts, and leaves that had been assembled in front of the flyers through Knacker's previous efforts. For his part, Knacker ate little, not wishing to entice the coughing sickness into another bout of the terrible gasping that had characterized his last two seasons.
Ol' Knacker was stubborn enough to deal with the cough for six whole seasons! I can hold you off for one more day. I just need to see the end.
His thoughts resolved, he did however partake of a few of the seeds. He had always enjoyed them and, much like a flyer sentenced to die, he took the opportunity to enjoy his favorite food as a last meal. Unlike a criminal, though, he would take things into his own wings.
Knacker smiled grimly. He could not control when his body failed, but he could choose the manner of his end. After a life lived on his own terms he resolved to end it that way as well.
Enough of that. Knacker has already decided. Let's make sure the nephews are listening the ol' Knacker and eating! Andrea never did feed them enough seeds.
He turned his gaze to each of them in turn. The strong and broad-winged Talos stood at the right of the others, as always keeping the right watch from the perch on the bluffs. Unless a cataclysm struck him in the intervening days Knacker was sure that he would survive the journey just fine. Beside him stood Valen, a much more slender and agile flyer. He had no doubts that he could fight the winds, but it would be his lack of energy reserves that might be his undoing. And then there was Galen… the runt of the clutch. He had grown rapidly in the last four years of training for the journey, but the smaller build still remained, making him look like an older version of Petrie. He would have to pace himself if he did not want to join his uncle in death.
"Eat those seeds, Galen!" Knacker chided playfully, before using his wing to throw one into his nephew's beak.
Galen coughed at the unexpected gift. "Uncle!"
Knacker smiled. "Everyone should be so heavy they can barely fly today! All you young uns' will have plenty of time to crap it out on the way back!"
"That's really nice to hear while eating, Knacker!" Ulan protested from the bluff above them.
"Better than hearing about your courtship attempts!" Another flyer retorted from nearby.
"Yeah, that's a long story that goes nowhere that leaves the listener unsatisfied!"
"That's what she said!"
As the banter echoed around them Knacker allowed himself a chuckle. Oh, to have that much fire in my belly again! Not proper before the Bright Circle, but the young uns' will need that fire for what is coming.
It was then that a familiar flyer landed on the bluff. In front of Knacker's nephews Petrie's diminutive form appeared child-like. Which, now that Knacker thought of it, was because that he was.
"Uh… me heard Knacker talk about seeds so Petrie thought you have none." Petrie laid down four large nuts as if he were dropping a massive burden. "Me sorry to interrupt, me…"
Knacker smiled. Oh, no you don't...
"Actually, Petrie, stay for a moment, will ya'?"
Petrie nearly tripped over his own feet as he hastily aborted his attempted take off. He then turned around and gave the slightest hint of a bow.
Knacker put a wing on Petrie's shoulder, a clear sign to anyone present that he considered him worthy of friendship. "I do not believe that I have introduced my nephews to you."
Petrie hesitated a moment as his beak opened and then closed. "Me not introduced, no." He finally admitted.
Knacker wasted no time in gesturing towards a rather robust and strong looking flyer. As Petrie looked upon him he could almost sense a bit of his uncle in the teenaged flyer. His eyes had a certain fire in them though his mannerisms were not unkind.
"This is Talos, the eldest of my dear sister's clutch. It is hard to believe it has been fourteen Cold Times already."
Talos bowed slightly as if replicating a ceremonial gesture. "Pleased to meet you, Petrie."
Petrie for his part replicated the gesture, lest he mistakenly cause insult at missing some unknown detail that he had not yet learned. "The pleasure all mine, Talos."
No sooner had he rose from his bow he was greeted by a wing on his shoulder and a somewhat thinner flyer looking at him as if he were an older sibling of Petrie's. This flyer had the build of a canyon flyer, as his mother would put it. A flyer who would try to outfly the wind itself.
"Petrie, is it? The name is Valen."
Petrie tried not to sputter at the forward greeting. "Glad to meet you, Valen!"
Both flyers, as if sensing that there was no way to break from the greeting without some share of awkwardness, quickly stepped back so that the customary personal space was between them. It was then that Petrie caught sight of the last of Knacker's nephews.
The final flyer, Petrie could quickly deduce, was not graced with either his elder brother's strength or his other brother's agility. Though larger than Petrie he almost looked like a replica of his reflection, a sign of what Petrie might become if this journey did not kill him first. Instantly Petrie's concerns grew. This be one me need to be worried about.
Petrie replicated Galen's bold gesture, clasping his wing on the other flyer's shoulder. "My name Petrie. And yours?"
The other flyer hesitated as if working up the will to speak. "Galen... Nice to meet you, Petrie."
It was then that Knacker's wing on his shoulder made Petrie pull away. Me do something wrong?
As he turned to look at Knacker, however, he only saw a knowing look. The doomed flyer had noticed the same thing that Petrie had. This would be the one to watch most closely.
Petrie nodded ever so slightly. Me know. Petrie keep promise.
And just like that the moment was over as both Knacker and Petrie looked at the three other flyers as if nothing had happened.
Petrie shifted his feet somewhat awkwardly. Between Talos and Galen being near his age and obviously being more prepared to be here, he was filled with doubts which had until then been restrained like a trapped ground fuzzy. Trying to drive those dark thoughts from his mind he posed a question to his new companions.
"You sent here by your mother?" Petrie asked, remembering a bit of what Knacker had told him at the end of the first night.
Talos nodded. "That's right! But we would have gone anyway. Our herd follows the Old Ways."
Petrie did his best not to cringe at the pride in Talos's voice and the obvious dig at those who would not follow the Old Ways. It was as if it were a veiled condemnation at the rest of his family.
Galen nodded as well. "Yep! We have been training for this for more than enough Cold Times. I am glad to get this done!"
Valen seemed to build up some courage that had been lacking earlier as he took on a jocular expression. "You just want to start courting females."
Galen merely smiled. "Don't hate me for my fine looks, brother!"
Neither Knacker or Petrie needed to look at one another before doing synchronized eye rolls. Talos, on the other hand, was noticeably more offended.
"Enough, you two! This is a sacred journey. We can think about females once we survive the Bright Circle's judgement!"
Galen and Valen both went silent at that as if they had been slapped by a chastising parent. Petrie kept his beak shut, but he felt more than a little offput by the reminder of his siblings' harsh words.
"The Bright Circle is not up yet, nephew," Knacker soothed, "It might be best to let them have their moment. A jolly heart is needed to confront the hardships that are to come."
Talos did not immediately answer but instead appeared to look past his uncle and Petrie. Petrie and the others quickly turned to follow his gaze. It was then that Petrie saw the spectacle that he had tried to put out of his mind since he had awakened on this morning.
The distant fire. It was as if the horizon was awash in flame.
Petrie sighed. "Momma wasn't joking when she said the flight back is hardest part."
Valen stepped forward and appeared to size Petrie up for a moment. "Did she only send you out or…"
Petrie shook his head. "You not there when Petrie explain story. But my family not follow the Old Ways."
Talos scowled which earned him a glare from Knacker. Talos, however, did not have any sour words for Petrie. "Then what made you choose to do the hardest of the Old Ways?"
Galen nodded. "Yeah! This isn't exactly easy."
Petrie snorted before cracking a slight smile. "Petrie's aching wings already tell me that. But… me out here not to prove something to my mother or because she make me. Me out here so that Bright Circle can pass judgement."
His words were interrupted by the sounds of a rock falling from the bluff and a hiss of annoyance to his left. As the small assembly of five flyers looked in the direction of the disturbance they could see two familiar faces.
Petrie kept his smile despite the rude interruption. "Ulan and Verpos want to hear story too?"
Verpos glared at Ulan as the other male sighed at being so obviously discovered.
"If it isn't too much trouble we would be honored to hear your story, little o- Petrie."
Petrie took a look at Knacker as if asking permission before waving the others over. "Alright, Petrie tell this story once because me need energy on way back."
The other grew noticeably closer as the other chatter on the bluff also grew silent. It was obvious that Petrie would have an audience of more than six. A chorus prepared to share his story in the likely event he were unable to survive the ordeal.
Petrie's eyes grew determined. This not be last time Petrie tell tale.
"Petrie begin this journey after eleven Cold times… but my path begin one Cold Time ago. It begin with me losing game of pinecone..."
The previous year:
"I've got it!"
Petrie focused on the scene before him as he willed his wings into a steady beat. Below him the verdant hues of the flat plain served as their play area for the afternoon. Compared to the wooded sections of the valley, it permitted the widest range of motion without any obstructions which any of them could crash in to.
As if on cue Petrie turned to avoid crashing into Littlefoot's side. He then swerved upwards in a desperate maneuver once he saw what was coming for his flathead friend.
"Oof!"
"Ha! Mine!"
Petrie could only roll his eyes as Cera pushed Littlefoot aside in something just less than a tackle, which sent the miniature pinecone into a rolling spin down the incline towards the side of their play area. It was here that Petrie stopped to take stock of the situation.
Me cannot get in way of Littlefoot or Cera or Petrie get smothered! But me can slip in when there be opening…
He maintained a circle in his flight pattern for several moments as his friends tired themselves out in the muddy field below. Ducky, Cera, and Chomper did their best to keep the pinecone away from their goal, a small hole in the ground, but Littlefoot and Spike's team had a very fast member in it to compensated for their bulky slowness.
"Toss it to me so that I can toss it!"
Petrie's eyes narrowed as Ruby's confident form gestured for the pinecone. As he did this he also allowed his attitude to decline ever so slightly. This Petrie's opportunity!
Ever so slowly he began to drop down and increase his speed, crumpling his wings so as to appear more like a projectile than a flyer. But he knew that if he were going to have a chance to snatch the tossed pinecone then he would have to swoop in before Ruby could grab it. From there he could push it in the direction of one of his friends.
Petrie aimed himself in front of Ruby's outstretched hands as he settled into a speedy glide. In three treestars… two treestars…
It was then that Petrie saw the pinecone sail from the threehorn's violent kick, sending a torrent of mud along with the small object of everyone's interest. But as it appeared to dangle in the air for several moments Petrie began to become aware of several things at once. First, the pinecone was indeed heading right towards the flyer's waiting body. But, second, that body was now being covered by a growing shadow. A shadow that looked suspiciously like Littlefoot's massive tail.
Petrie clicked his beak shut. This gonna hurt.
Luckily for the flyer he caught Littlefoot's eyes just before the disaster could materialize, but not before the slowed tail smacked into both pinecone and flyer sending them into an uncontrolled tumble across the muddy field. As the sounds of grunts and shouts gave way to the sounds of splashed mud and the frantic sound of rushing wind, Petrie put out his wings to slow the dangerous descent towards oblivion.
That was how he crash landed right into the puddle of mud that was their team's goal.
"Goodness, Petrie are you alright?"
Petrie did not move immediately as his frazzled mind processed the situation. It was only when the expected pain did not arrive that he realized that the only thing that had been lost in his crash landing had been his dignity.
Well, and the game.
"Urgh… there reason why Petrie hate mud." The little flyer muttered as he tried to leave the muddy prison that he found himself in. But, as he tried to reach for the threshold of the flyer-sized hole he noticed a problem.
His foot was stuck due to the suction of the mud. Great…
Before he realized it he was being grabbed by his swimmer friend. With the precursors to the Time of Great Growing she was no longer quite as small as she once was. This was only reconfirmed when she pulled him out of the mud in one stiff pull.
"Thanks, Ducky…"
The swimmer merely nodded as she quickly examined him. "Are you hurt, Petrie? Littlefoot hit you with his tail good."
"Me alright… Me guess he not see me very well."
It was then that the sound of running footsteps could be heard which nearly made Petrie go airborne out of fear. It was then that he realized that it was only the arrival of Cera, Spike, Littlefoot, and the others.
"I'm so sorry, Petrie. Are you alright?"
Petrie paused for a moment to look at his mud-covered body. "Well, me need bath now. But otherwise me okay."
The looks of concerned now turned into those of relief as Cera turned towards her longneck friend. "Nice going, flathead! We only get to be rough on one another, remember?"
Littlefoot looked offended for a moment but then promptly sighed and looked down. "I guess it had to do with everything being brown… the mud, the pinecone…"
Petrie rolled his eyes as he tried to scrape some of the mud off of himself so he could once again be airworthy. "...me."
Littlefoot nodded. "I guess that we need to be more careful or play a different game."
Spike grunted with some concern before proceeding to give Petrie a lick.
Petrie laughed. "It alright, Spike! Me can take care of it!"
"You are right, Spike! It is harder to find good games, it is, it is!" Ducky affirmed. "I am too good as swimmer and splasher… Littlefoot and Cera are too good at pinecone… Petrie is too good at hide and seek…"
"And I am the fastest because I am fast!" Ruby acknowledged. "This is a problem."
"Oh no!" Chomper exclaimed as he thought about the problem. "But we always do a lot of games so that none of us are too good at all of them."
Littlefoot nodded. "We can still do that for now, but I think that we will just need to be more careful."
"Hmph!"
Littlefoot sighed as he looked at Cera. "Fine, I will be more careful."
Petrie gave Ducky a look. "She never let him live this down."
Ducky shook her head. "Nope, nope, nope."
The banter continued for several moments as the now towering pre-adolescent longneck was half-teased, half-criticized by the yellow threehorn. For the others, however, the game question was still an open one as Petrie was confirmed to be fine.
"Well, swimmer and splasher might help Petrie clean off." Chomper suggested.
Petrie groaned as he did not like swimmer and splasher, but he could make an exception this time. "Me okay with that."
Ducky nodded. "And I am okay with that!"
"What a surprise it is that a swimmer wants to swim." Chomper teased as Ducky gave him a playful glare.
Spike, on the other hand, had a different response as his stomach growled so loudly that it even distracted Littlefoot and Cera from their argument.
"Uh… Spike might have a point," Littlefoot noted somewhat awkwardly, "I'm sure our parents will call us for lunch soon anyway."
Cera grunted. "Have to eat a few more trees so that you can keep on growing like a tree?"
Littlefoot smiled as his tail nudged her in the side. "You're growing too, you know? You're just mad that you can't get to the good treestars."
Much to Petrie and everyone else's relief, Ruby ran into the clearing and waved her hands before chuckling at their banter. "Maybe we can tease each other about eating after we all get to eat!"
The fastrunner was greeted by two glares for several moments before both dinosaurs could no longer keep up the facade, and they too began to chuckle at the situation.
"Yeah, I guess if we are acting like our parents in a valley meeting then that means that we should get some lunch," Cera finally muttered.
Littlefoot nodded. "Let's all meet up at the Snaggly Tree after lunch!"
This was greeted by affirmative grunts as everyone broke away to go to their respective families. It was quite telling that in the parting that no one even mentioned that Petrie's team had lost the game. It was good enough that everyone was happy and healthy.
With a final glare at his muddy wings, Petrie took off into the welcome blue skies and the glorious Bright Circle that bathed the land in its light. Within moments he was soaring many longneck-lengths in the sky where even Littlefoot's retreating form looked like a small buzzer. It was here that all problems, no matter how large, appeared miniscule and insignificant. Such was the blessing of the flyers.
It was exactly with that thought, and with the realization that he had some time before his mother expected him over for lunch, that Petrie's mind settled upon the Bright Circle once more. He had often asked the Bright Circle for help with big problems, but perhaps today he could ask for its advice on a small problem? Surely since the Bright Circle see everything it would also know of many games that the gang could play?
Little did he know that this thought would soon lead to disaster.
"Hey, Zagar, get a load of this guy!"
The small blue flyer quickly hurled himself up to the perch where his friend was sitting. True, he could have flown out from his perch and landed as normal, but he did not want to look like a scaredy-egg. So a vertical rise while still in the tree's canopy was the only thing that would do.
He gave the slightest exhale of breath when his talons landed on the branch securely. He then quickly walked over to where his friend sat in order to see what he could be focused on.
He was more than a little perplexed when he saw him looking at a smaller flyer.
"What is it, Culus? Did the kid take your treestars or something?
Culus glared at him before rolling his eyes. "If the moron had done that then I would actually be impressed. No, it looks like MeMe over there is keeping to the Old Ways."
Zagar blinked. "You mean he is going to do the big flight thing?"
Culus groaned. "No, genius, I am saying that he thinks that he is keeping the Old Ways. But do you honestly think this moron could pull something like that off?"
Zagar smiled maliciously. "No."
It was then that Zagar watched the flyer a bit more closely. They had come to calling the flyer MeMe due to how much it annoyed him. But MeMe, truth be told, actually seemed to be following the procedure correctly from what the elders had told him during their lessons the last time he was grounded. Some treestars was left for the Bright Circle, the flyer was alone, and he was talking to it in hushed tones.
Zagar paused for a moment. "Actually, I don't know. He seems to be doing it right, Culus."
"Are you daft? This little moron is acting like he is top flyer in the nest when he would die in the first day of the big test. You know what we think about big beaks who can't back it up!" Culus stared him down as if he were sizing him up. "Or are you so scared of MeMe?"
Zagar was taken aback. "Don't be silly! I'm just saying…"
"You worried that he is going to beak you to death?" Culus mocked with a playful smile, "You know the others would just love to hear about this. The mighty Zagar brought low by MeMe and his mighty snuggling stick!"
Zagar was now incensed as he went into Culus's face. "Don't be a miserable night-shitter, Culus. You know that isn't what this is about!"
His friend now smiled back. "Oh? Then you can prove it."
There was silence for a moment while Zagar tried to collect his thoughts.
"You know that the others will give me shit for this, right? I hardly think that giving MeMe shit is going to impress the girls."
Culus, for his part, nodded and leaned back. "Not at all, but if you remember you did dare me into shitting on a scary-looking threehorn. So consider this payback. I get to get talked to by the Elders for a lack of shit control, and got humiliated in front of everyone, and now you will get a talking to for pestering MeMe."
Zagar glared at Culus while he was greeted by a self-satisfied sneer as Culus began to examine his own talons.
"I will consider us even, Zagar. You know the rules of our little flock… we always pay our debts."
Zagar clicked his beak shut as he examined his friend. If there was nothing else that kept himself, Culus, and the others together it was a common resolve to be fair to one another. Pushing the revulsion down he looked at MeMe once more and then looked at Culus once again. "Fine! But we are even after this. No more of these stupid dares."
Culus nodded with a satisfied gleam to his eyes. "Agreed."
Zagar sighed as he turned to face the task ahead of him. But before he could take off he was greeted by a cough from Culus. "What now?"
"Oh, nothing much. Just wait for a moment while I get the others to watch this. After what I went through with your last dare I am not letting you off easy."
And with that Culus flew off, leaving Zagar to reflect upon the humiliating task ahead of him.
Petrie examined the work in front of him as he prepared for a brief prayer. Me have treestars… me not bring snuggling stick since Bright Circle say Petrie too old for that… and me have enough rocks so treestars not go away. It looks ready to me.
That was when muffled laughter could be heard in the distance over the roaring winds.
The small flyer sighed. His usual spot for this kind of talk with the Bright Circle had been chosen for its clear, unobstructed view of the bright orb. But this unobstructed view also made it popular for the cohort of flyers who were a few Cold Times older than him. As both the males and females of that age acted like his brothers on a bad day, Petrie had no desire to keep their company. Nonetheless, the task that he sat aside for himself took priority. Surely the Bright Circle would forgive some background noise in the distance.
Not even jerk interrupt talks with Bright Circle. Petrie assured himself as he put the distant sounds of conversations and laughter out of his mind and proceeded to push his stack of treestars to the edge of the bluff.
"Hello, Bright Circle. It Petrie again. I had a question for you if you have time."
Petrie waited the customary amount of time before continuing. He knew by now that the Bright Circle did not answer verbally, but still it seemed impolite to rush into things.
He ignored the laughter in the background.
"Petrie apologize for noise, some people are rude. But Petrie have small problem with friends. We growing too big to play some games together, and, well, you know many games Petrie is sure! If you could give Petrie some ideas, me.. I appreciate it!"
As was by now the customary ritual for him, he bowed his head, pushed the leaves out to the edge, and then stepped back as if to grant the Bright Circle some space.
It was then that he ran up against something blocking his path. Eyes widening, he swung backwards in order to see what had stopped him.
Only to see a young flyer looking straight at him with his wings folded.
"Perhaps you wouldn't have that problem if you played with the right kind of friends, MeMe."
For a moment the only sound that came to Petrie's consciousness was the wind blowing up against his flesh. Everything else went away. There was no smell, no sight besides the being in front of him, and no sensation. Instead a certain numbness came to him. A numbness born in confusion and shock.
It this happening?
The numbness disappeared in an instant as the flyer nudged him in the chest.
"What's wrong, MeMe? You can't hear right either?"
The laughter that had been background noise suddenly erupted again, but now Petrie could discern its character. It was a mocking laughter. He could also deduce that it was coming from a rather large audience.
Petrie did his best to keep his beak from quivering as the bitter taste of adrenaline touched the back of his throat. His mind was a confusing garble of conflicting orders. Flee! Finish the prayer! Beg him to stop! But in the end it was what the flyer did next that governed his next steps.
Zagar looked over at the other flyers who were watching the proceedings from the adjacent bluff. As Petrie briefly glanced that way he could see four males of around his age laughing at the proceedings with a few females looking on with noticeably mixed expressions.
"I guess MeMe can't speak right either!"
Petrie swallowed as his vision began to narrow at the flyer. When his voice did escape his beak he was shocked by its clarity.
"Me hear just fine. You do not. Otherwise you would know that Petrie praying."
A chorus of 'ohhs' and laughter erupted now from the unwanted audience as the flyer turned around with a widened eyes. It was at that moment, however, that Petrie realized several things in quick succession. One, he had just talked back to a flyer who was noticeably larger than him. And two: he had never fought one of his own kind before.
Petrie swallowed as he willed his body to not shake.
"What was that, MeMe?"
Petrie struggled to keep his eyes level with the other flyer. "You heard me."
Before he could understand what happened next he felt something collide into his chest as his back collided with the bluff wall.
"Stop it, Zagar!" a feminine voice protested.
"That's enough!" said another.
Zagar, however, was beyond caring as he proceeded to advance on Petrie. Petrie had little time to realize that he was being forced into a corner.
"No, I don't think that I did!" Zagat roared, "No one talks to me like that!"
Petrie's heart was pounding now that he realized his predicament. He was against the rock wall of the bluff and had no room to maneuver or to take flight. The voices around him became mere echoes as all of his focus was on the threat before him.
He had just enough time to see his adversary's wing slam into his beak. In that one instant everything went clear. Petrie's head felt fuzzy as no conscious monologue remained, but all the same his mental turmoil was resolved. There was only one thing left to do.
"By the ancestors, Zagar, stop!"
Petrie did not notice Culus grabbing his friend's wing. He also did not notice the sudden hesitation in Zagar as an opening for flight presented itself. No, as Petrie swayed and his talon's tried to regain a firm hold on the ground, it was something firm and hard that reached his consciousness.
A small rock. One of the rocks he had used to hold his offering.
What occurred next would be questioned in Petrie's mind for much of the next year. Could he have done anything different? Could there have been time to think up another course? But in such moments it is instinct more than thought that govern our actions, making us slaves to the images that come into our minds. In Petrie's case what came to mind were the pinecones from the game earlier. How he could use his talons and takeoff thrust to hurl them into the air. And as soon as that thought appeared it became his destiny.
As his heart thundered in his chest and his muscles burned with energy, Petrie placed all of his weight onto his talons. Then, with all of the force of a desperate takeoff, he kicked the small rock into the air as if it were a pinecone. At the same time sending Petrie himself into a tumble that only the ground eventually served to stop.
A deafening sound erupted on the bluff as the rock found its target. Zagar's head was twisted back at the impact as his beak slightly opened as if trying to speak. But it was not to be. Without any further sound or reaction, Zagar's eyes rolled into the back of his head as his body swayed like a reed and eventually began to fall over. Leaving Culus and his horrified companions to gaze upon Petrie's handiwork.
Petrie and Zagar both hit the ground at the same moment, but only Petrie got back up.
"We need to get help!"
"I'm outta here!"
The chatter around him gave way to the sound of panicked alert calls and retreating flaps as the once mocking audience surrendered to the terror of the moment. But none of that really registered in the flyer's mind as he scrambled for another rock. The only thing that he knew was that there still a flyer before him. Maybe he had missed?
As he gripped another potential projectile, however, his ears finally ripped the youth from his delirium. He heard whimpering.
Whimpering that wasn't his.
Petrie blinked, still staggering over the pile of leaves and small stones. That was when he finally saw the full extent of his handiwork.
It was something out of a nightmare.
Zagar's body still heaved with unsteady breaths as it lay where Petrie's rock had felled him, one of his wings covering much of his body and beak. His eyes appeared to stare at something in the distance as his body seized as if shivering in extreme cold. Behind one of them was a gash where the stone had done its work. And, beside the fallen youth, was the stone itself. The very stone that Petrie had kicked. A stone that was now spattered in blood.
Petrie blinked again in mute horror as the reality of the situation came to him. Me did this.
That was when the figure above the fallen flyer moved, making Petrie hesitantly grip on the rock again. Though now the will to fight was lost in him.
"MeMe… Petrie, just let me try to help him, alright?" Culus's voice choked out in something between a whimper and a plea. It was then that Petrie followed his gaze and realized what Culus was staring at.
The second rock that was now underneath Petrie. Culus thought that he might be next.
As Petrie hurriedly moved away from the second rock, Culus did not advance towards him or take any other offensive action. Instead he merely proceeded to shake his friend and whisper his name.
"Zagar, hey! Zagar, can you hear me?"
Petrie opened his beak to speak but then closed it. He was in a place where no words could undo what had been done. So, in that moment of confusion and terror he did the only thing that came to his terrified mind. He flew away as fast as his wings would carry him.
No one present dared to stop him.
My apologies for the delays, everyone. This entry actually constitutes my (late) entry for the January 2019 prompt challenge. I have now taken the strategy of trying to write 500 words a day in at least one of my stories without exception, so hopefully I will be more regular in my updates in the months to come. Currently it is looking like this will be the post schedule for the rest of the story:
By the end of April: Chapter 4 (response to the Conflict prompt response)
By the end of May: Chapter 5 (response to the May prompt)
By the end of June: Chapter 6 (response to the June prompt)
By the end of August: Chapter 7 (response to the August prompt) and the epilogue
Thank you all for your patience! I look forward to your thoughts and reviews. :)
OwlsCantRead: You are quite right in you suspicions, as this chapter has shown. We will soon see the aftermath of Petrie's attempt of self-defense and how the flyer's handle such disputes. Because in both the "past" story and the "present" story the time of no return is soon approaching.
Keijo6: Thank you for the review and the kind words. I am glad that you enjoyed the exchanges between him and his mother, and also between him and Cera. It is here where Petrie's own motivations have been questioned and also clarified. I also did enjoy creating the scene where the flying test was encountered. I find Petrie's siblings (at least as I imagine them) to be fun to write despite their obvious faults and excesses. In many ways they both show Petrie's strengths and weaknesses as a flyer through their respective traits. What Petrie has in abundance, however, is tendency for self-reflection and self-improvement as manifested through his commitment to the Bright Circle and abiding by its 'signs'. With the events of this chapter, however, I think that you have a new insight as to why Petrie might be doing this journey. The aftermath of what happened here will be explored in some detail in the next chapter.
Yurihentai641: Between my duties as an instructor and the amount of work it takes to prepare lesson plans and study materials for my new courses, my time to actually write is rather limited. For this reason updates will come whenever I can get to them.