The City of Wings

The City of Wings

The roads that the griffons followed into the highlands of the Emberwild Dominion ended before reaching any obvious destination. Five riders in all soared above the clouds. One occasionally swooped down below to get bearings for the others. Drue led the flight pack with Anderix behind him. Kaelen, Blena, Alster and Tajan each hung on behind an experienced rider. Anderix had twice travelled long distances with Drue before, from the coast near Helion which included many short island hops and again across the Thalorian Sea but none of the flights were ever this long.

After many hours, Drue saw a mountain peak that he used as a navigational marker and signalled them all to follow him down. They landed high on a steep grassy incline below the snow line. The riders bid Drue good luck and each leapt into the air.

“Okay, this way.” Drue led them up a trail crisscrossing others on the mountain. There were a few trails fit for mountain gulathers at best. One trail stopped at a wall of black stone where an old lava flow had hardened across the mountain pass. Another came to a stairway cut so steeply into the rock that Dasher had to climb it with his wings spread for balance while the others followed on hands and feet. They walked for several hours until their trail ended at the edge of a cliff.

“Glad I am not walking here at night!” Tajan said as she saw the drop from the edge into a valley far below. She stepped up to see over the edge and clouds had filled the valley, brilliant beneath the afternoon sun. Peaks rose through it like islands in a thin white fog. Some were bare and black, some green along their lower slopes, and the most distant carried snow that shone pale blue in the shadows. A waterfall dropped from one high plateau and vanished into the cloud before it reached anything that could be called ground.

Blena came to the edge next to Tajan, looked down and stepped back.

“Drue, your road is broken.”

Drue loosened the strap beneath Dasher’s chest. “The road is finished.”

“Remind me never to go into any building you say is finished.”

“It’s only broken for those foolish enough to come up here without a griffon.”

He looked at Blena. “Do you have a griffon? I have a griffon. This is my griffon Dasher.” Dasher lifted his head at the sound of his name and opened his beak as if recognizing that either food or flight were imminent.

“He cannot carry all of us,” Alster said.

“He can,” Drue replied. “Remember Thalorian Tide?”

Dasher made a low screech.

“You are not going to make us hold a rope dangling from a griffon at mountain height, are you?” Alster protested. Drue smiled as his tease landed and told them the plan.

“See that?” Tajan said. “He already thinks he is funnier now that he is home.”

“These are the gates to Kael’Voryn.”

Drue looked across the valley. Nothing moved at first. Then three dark shapes detached themselves from a distant ridge. They crossed the bright face of the cloud, growing larger with every beat of their wings.

The first griffon was ash-grey, almost silver where the sun touched it. The second had a white head and rust-coloured wings. The third was smaller, its feathers black and brown, carrying a rider wrapped in red fur.

The riders approached without calling. They separated above the cliff, one passing so low over the company that the wind of its wings sent grit skipping across the path where they waited. It circled once, studying them, then landed with its talons outstretched. Tajan expected a thud, but it was almost silent.

Its rider did not dismount. She was young, though the wear on her leather gloves suggested she had been riding longer than some of the company had been adults. Thick braids had been wrapped around the back of her head and tucked beneath a wool-lined leather cap. Her cloak was patched in four colours of fur.

She looked at Drue first, then Dasher.

“Greetings, old man! You came by the lower road?”

“Only the last part of it. Breen and some of his riders brought us in along the coast and then up the range,” Drue said through a beaming smile. “You on guard duty?”

“Yes, two more days on this rotation. Why didn't Breen fly you all the way into Kael’Voryn?”

“We are travelling quietly.”

The rider glanced at the five passengers, the packs, the Mechanum tool case and Blena’s armour.

“Well, the three of us know you are here.”

“I know we can trust Tyrel, but who’s on the black and brown?”

“That is Oyman on Prince.”

“Thar’s kid? He’s a rider now? How long was I gone?”

“Provisional, and it’s Thar’s kid, so we can trust him. It’s you I am worried about.”

Blena smiled. “I like her.”

Drue placed his fist over his heart. “Drue of Kael’Voryn, son of Bahen, rider of Dasher and squad leader of the Fireballs.”

Sella smiled. “You know the Fireballs were disbanded about two years ago, don’t you? After you were seconded to Kefar communications, they reassigned everyone. Mika is with the Fearless Divers now.” She looked at Kaelen and the company. “Sorry, where are my manners? Sella of Kael’Voryn, rider of Vaska and squad leader of the Iron Gates.”

“We have actually been waiting for you and Dasher to give you all quiet passage into the city?”

“So you already heard?”

“While I am extremely trustworthy, Breen is only dubiously so. Before he left he let me know he was picking you and some friends up on the coast and bringing them up here and you had to avoid Pyrathis.”

“Pyrathis closed the routes out of the city and is monitoring the upper paths to unscheduled traffic.”

“Pyrathis closes doors it does not own.”

“Kefar pays for the hinges, and they are the problem right now. So, can you get us in?”

Sella looked beyond him at Kaelen. Her eyes stopped upon the silver clasp at his throat, then moved to Alster, Tajan, Blena and Anderix. Kaelen had pulled his hood forward, but it was too late to pretend he had not been looking at her with caution in his eyes.

“Your passengers have names?” she asked.

“They do.”

“Convenient.”

“You can’t share what you don’t know, so for now we’ll call them “Drue’s friends.””

Sella’s gaze returned sharply to him. “You really are paranoid, aren’t you?”

But she understood and pushed no further.

“We will have to do this in stages. We will make two trips while you fly into the city through the main gate. They will definitely report that you came in alone, and they will even note what socks you were wearing. After the first trip Tyrel will remain on patrol and make certain no one looks too closely towards Snownest.”

“Ready?” She had already caught Kaelen looking at her from beneath his hood. “You, with the eyes. You are with me.”

She turned in the saddle and raised two fingers. Oyman descended and motioned Blena into the saddle behind him, while Tyrel picked up Alster and for the trip into the city.

Dasher screeched when he recognised Prince and walked over to nudge him.

“All right, friend with the eye who is so obviously from the Mechanum Ascendancy. You wait over there by that crag with the Solaryn until Oyman and I come back for you.”

Anderix and Tajan waited beneath the cliffs for the second run while Drue and Dasher flew openly towards the main gate. After an almost too long wait in the cold, Sella and Oyman returned.

“All right, you two are next. Hold on!” Anderix mounted behind Sella. Vaska’s wings opened. There was a pump of air around them and they fell off the trail edge. His stomach remained somewhere back on the trail. Air tore beneath his coat and found every opening in his clothes. He gripped the first solid thing beneath his hand, which he thought connected to the saddle strap but soon found that it was Sella’s belt.

The sound was enormous. Not a flap but a deep concussion felt through every part of him. Vaska stopped falling as though caught by an unseen hand. Her next wingbeat drove them forward towards the city nestled on a plateau. He watched Vaska’s wide, strong wings rest on the air and saw feathers lift and curl in the wind. Then they entered a cloud and the world became cold white vapour. Droplets struck his face. Sella, Vaska and the front of the saddle were the only objects remaining in existence.

“I can’t see the terrain. Wait,” he said as he released one arm to adjust his vision, which allowed red light to identify objects through the moisture.

“Relax, Vaska can.”

Vaska tilted. Anderix learned to adjust his eye augmentation. He slipped slightly, decided to take her original advice and hold on, securing an arm around Sella’s waist. “How?” Sella caught his wrist before he pulled her from the saddle.

“She has eyes.”

“The cloud is opaque.”

“Then she uses the rest of her.”

“I have augmented vision and I would have trouble.”

“Lean forward and move with her.”

“I do not know where she is moving.”

“She tells you before she does, small shifts in her wings, muscles on her back.”

Anderix became aware of the muscles beneath the saddle. Vaska’s body tightened along one side. Her left wing changed its angle. Her tail spread before the turn began.

He followed it closely.

They emerged from the cloud into sunlight.

The valley had opened beneath them. The cloud was no longer weather but landscape, rolling white in every direction. Black ridges broke through it. Waterfalls poured into it. Griffons crossed between the peaks at different heights, some carrying bundles, some riders, some a meal for their grifflets.

Above them, the sky had cleared to a blue he had never seen from the ground. With a landing platform in sight, Vaska fell towards the ground, faster and faster, her wings held close. Wind pulled tears from his eye. The mountain turned. The sun flashed across a field of blue crystal far below. He should have been terrified. Dasher never flew like that. Exhilaration took over, and he leaned into the dive with a very un-Mechanum “Yeah!”

Sella laughed in front of him. Not at his whooping, but at his thrill in the impossible speed of the world.

Vaska spread her wings and the valley caught them.

They rose along the side of a mountain without a wingbeat, carried by warm air climbing from the black rock. Anderix could feel the current pass beneath the feathers. Vaska shifted one pinion and changed their entire direction.

He loosened his grip on Sella’s belt.

“There,” she called over the wind. “Now that’s flying.”

• • •

Kael’Voryn had been built upon the mountain for safety and practicality. The griffons were at home there, and the people of Kael’Voryn were almost symbiotically entwined with them. The entire city revolved around the life they brought and the safety they provided. Over eons, the city came into being, and now stone houses occupied shelves along the cliffs, their flat roofs connected by stairs, ladders and narrow bridges. Tall wooden platforms thrust over open air. Griffons landed upon them and departed again in constant motion. Signal flags cracked in the wind. Copper bells hung beneath carved beams, each one with a different voice. Roost logs stretched across sections of the rocks where Anderix determined the mighty creatures were trained to relieve themselves, as the city itself was very sanitary.

A second tier of the city stood on an even higher plateau and it was often above the clouds. The lower streets appeared and disappeared within drifting white vapour. Warm water ran in stone channels beside the paths, heated enough to steam, carried from condensers built around volcanic vents. There were few trees, but grass covered every patch of ground that was not rock. Tiny flowers grew close to the ground, their purple heads bent beneath the wind.

Hundreds of griffons filled the sky.

Drue smiled widely at all of it and proudly pointed things out to the rest of them. He flicked his head upwards as a signal to catch a glimpse of some action above. They watched a line of young riders practise turns between tall posts, holding tight reins with leather gloves. Alster could see another group on a platform learning to fly over message drops and release secure message cases, attempting to hit the target like a marksman with an arrow. Far above them, Vaska and Prince flew in formation, so close their outer feathers nearly touched. Dasher answered their calls.

Every head on the landing platform turned.

“He announces himself,” Sella said as Vaska settled beside them.

“We both like a show,” Drue replied.

Anderix swung his leg over Vaska’s saddle and slid down her soft feathers. He failed to land on both feet at the same time and launched forward onto his chest finding himself staring closely at wooden planks on the hard wooden platform.

Tajan dismounted more gracefully from Prince and went straight to the now flat Anderix.

“You yelled.”

“The rapid descent caused an involuntary vocal response.”

“Twice?”

“There were two descents.”

Sella removed her gloves. “There was one big one.”

Anderix stared at her with the betrayal of a scientist whose data had been deliberately damaged.

Tajan’s smile widened. “I wanted to yell too. Here.” She offered her hand and helped him up.

“Drue doesn’t fly like that,” Anderix offered as an explanation of his vocalisation of joy.

“Drue is a hundred years old.” Sella looked at Drue, hoping to get a rise out of him.

“Drue is wise and careful and only four years older than Sella,” Drue said in his defence.

“It is cold up here,” Alster said, rubbing his hands together.

“The gloves help,” Sella told him. She motioned to a young boy, Kam, who was taking the landed griffons to water and a stable. He was her relative which is why he had such a prestigious job at such a young age. He was a platform attendant and the experience he gained would lead to rider training one day. He wore heavy fur trousers, high boots, two coats and a cap that covered everything except his eyes. He came over to Sella.

“Take these travellers to the stable on High Street. I have some paperwork to lodge.” She looked at the group. “Don’t worry. He is my cousin.”

“A stable?” Tajan looked very concerned by the suggestion.

“Don’t worry! Griffons roost in a stable one side and you stay next door, with nice warm rooms. They are like an inn, but with heated water and cleaner air,” Drue explained.

Kam looked at the strip of Tajan’s stomach exposed beneath her short travelling coat, then at Drue. “Your friends need some better clothes.” Drue handed the boy some gold pieces and swapped them for the reins of Dasher and Prince, whom he was guiding. “Run over to the local Caveat Emptor for some warm clothes and supplies.”

“Even up here,” Kaelen said, surprised that Magnus Pactum had penetrated the highest possible market anywhere on Aethoria.

“We will meet you at the High Street Stable,” Drue told Kam.

Blena complained, “But he doesn’t know our sizes.”

Kam looked them up and down. “I got you,” he said before heading down the street. Blena felt slightly violated by the cursory appraisal and asked, “How old is that stable boy, anyway? Shouldn’t he be home already?”

Another boy carrying folded blankets for the griffons paused beside the visiting group.

“Are you injured, miss?” he asked of Tajan.

Tajan looked down. “No.”

“Then why is your skin out?”

“It was warm when we left Marinth Bay.”

The boy considered this explanation and gave her a blanket.

He gave Blena two.

Drue was about to lead them through the upper streets before anyone else could notice them and formally ask why five wanted people had met him after he entered the city. Sella came back from the Riders Assignment Office after submitting her shift report.

“That was fast.”

“Nothing to report on a very routine day! Anyway, how long do you intend to stay?” she asked quietly as she urged them to walk down the street cut from the mountain itself.

“Long enough to have Kefar forget about us and to find out what Thrankal is up to. Did he come here?”

“He did not.”

Drue looked at her.

“We heard that Pyrathis sent word that he was travelling in the Ironroot Bastion,” she continued. “No route. No arrival bell. No lodging request. No rider assigned.”

“He never travels without a rider.”

“He never travels. And this time he travelled by ship.”

They passed beneath a beam carved with generations of names. Feather charms turned on strings above them.

“Who is your source that he was in Ironroot?” Drue asked.

“Someone assigned to Kefar in Thrankal’s detail.”

Kaelen could feel the cold and joined Blena in her blanket as they walked. “If Thrankal is close, we could get a message to him. Report on our findings so far and ask him to find out why there is a warrant out on all of us and not just Anderix.”

“Hey!” Anderix felt blamed but understood that Kaelen intended to clear their names. “I can go back if it will solve our problems.”

“No, too late now! You are forgetting we are wanted in two Crestrealms.”

“You have been busy!” Sella quipped to Drue.

“There is a lot more, but let’s save it for the warmth of the stable,” Drue said.

Sella stopped before a low stone house built against the mountain with a closed barn for griffons attached. Steam curled from a vent in its roof.

“The High Street Stable! I know the owner so you can stay here for as long as you need.”

“Will they object to fugitives?” Anderix asked through a shiver.

“They object to unpaid bills and Kefarian interruptions so you will be of little concern.”

The outside walls of the stable looked wet but there had been no rain. Anderix supposed it was condensation from the clouds and elevation.

Inside, the stable consisted of one large room, a sleeping shelf above it with bunks and hammocks, and a large cooking hollow with tables and chairs around it. It was warmed by steam pipes between two layers of stone walls. Hot water was piped into troughs in the walls, forming a wall of warm air. The walls radiated enough heat that everyone stood still and absorbed it. When the air cooled at the top of the wall, it condensed into a constant drip on the outside stone and returned to the system. Anderix was impressed with both the engineering and the efficiency of the system. He had dozens of questions but thought he might save them for a better time.

Blena dropped both blankets. “Thank the Veyl it is warm in here.”

Alster was busy exploring the stable and had called the hammock. Sella was stoking the cooking fire.

“I’ll send someone with some supplies for you. Best you don’t go running around all over the city. Someone is bound to start asking questions.”

“I am out of breath after that short walk up here. It must have been steeper than I thought,” Tajan complained.

“It’s the elevation,” Drue told them.

“We all need to adjust a bit. It is harder to breathe up here and movement takes up more energy than down in Pyrathis or the coastal regions.”

“Reminds me a bit of Alfadin, but this is much worse,” Kaelen said. “I thought I was feeling ill, but that explains things.”

“You won’t even feel it in a few days,” Drue reassured them.

Sella’s cousin arrived at the door from the Caveat Emptor with some oversized furs, cloaks and gloves that would cover anyone.

Sella took them. “We are going to need some food too.”

“I just got here.” He pushed out his bottom lip and his gloved hand.

Sella frowned and tossed him two shiny gold pieces. He saw the HC stamp on the back spin in the air and caught them both. “I’ll be right back.” Then he suddenly stopped. “Mom said I had to be back by moonrise.”

“I’ll get your aunt to tell her you were doing something important for me. No... for the riders!” He smiled, and Sella thought she had a sale. Then he put out his hand for more gold pieces, and Sella slapped it away. “Get going.”

Alster had chosen the hammock because it was near a small double-paned window. He lay down, feeling the effort required to breathe. He looked out. Water condensed on the outside of the mottled glass and ran down it as though it were raining. “A design flaw, I suppose. At least it’s warm,” he said out loud. Lichen grew on the inside walls of the stable. Alster swung gently in his hammock and poked at it. Drue noticed him and half expected him to identify it.

Alster said nothing.

• • •

The children of Kael’Voryn found their griffons on the dangerous slopes above the city in nesting grounds that predated the entire city.

They did not take grifflets from nests as one takes a gulather foal and trains them. A young hopeful rider selects a juvenile old enough to leave its parents and begins carrying food to the same ledge each day. Some griffons accepted the offering as the easy meal it was and nothing more. Some moved to another mountain nesting site and a few began waiting expectantly for a free tasty morsel. Those were the beginnings of riders.

Drue brought the company to a training slope two weeks after their arrival. The climb ended above the upper streets, where even the clouds were below them and the wind swept uninterrupted across the stone.

A dozen children lay on their stomachs along the ridge. Each held a strip of dried meat at arm’s length.

“Why are they lying down?” Blena whispered.

“So the griffons do not have to decide whether they are prey,” Drue said.

“That decision remains open?” Anderix was genuinely concerned for their safety.

One of the children shushed him.

Across a narrow gap, young griffons watched from the rocks. They were smaller than Dasher but still intimidating, especially to a smaller child. Their beaks could remove a child’s hand without any effort.

A brown-and-white juvenile approached a boy near the end of the line. The boy’s arm trembled. The griffon took the meat and retreated.

The boy remained still, smiling into the stone.

“How long has he been feeding that one?” Tajan asked Drue.

“It is usually about a month or two, but you would have to ask the young rider.”

“Forty-one days,” whispered the boy, “but I will have to start over if you don’t shut up.”

Drue said, “He’s going to make a great rider. Let’s move back to that ridge and watch from there.”

“And will he attempt to ride it?” Blena asked as they moved to a more respectful distance.

“When it permits him. Could be years. The bond has to be created now and then it will be with them for life. I found Dasher up on that peak over there.” He pointed to a crag that some other children were lying flat on.

“Who decides when the rider is ready to attempt a ride?” Kaelen asked.

“Ah, now that is up to the family. My father wouldn’t let me attempt my own ride until I was ten. He took me up hundreds of times before that, and I had many hours of flight time with my mom and dad. Once you have that experience and a bonded griffon, the riders’ school will let you in. But it was ten for me.”

Anderix studied the children. “That is an inconsistent admissions process.”

“It has fewer fatal errors than one administered by some council or group. Your parents know you best.”

“Speaking of which, Drue, we haven’t met yours yet. Have you told them you are here?” Tajan probed.

“They are in Pyrathis, which is deep in Kefar’s pockets. I can’t risk going down there. There isn’t much of an economy here, so it’s either work for Kefar by proxy or live a simpler life in the highlands. Riders, though, can make some gold pieces. There are also jobs for support staff,landing crews, stable boys, messenger scribes, you know, all the boring stuff. But that is where everyone dreams of being.” He pointed directly up at the clouds.

“Well, not everyone,” said Blena, who saw the thrill of the rides but preferred her feet on solid ground.

Far below, bells sounded across Kael’Voryn. Riders launched from three platforms and turned south in formation, each carrying a narrow message case painted yellow.

Kaelen watched them disappear into the valley.

“Kefar employs all of these people?”

“Kefar believes it does,” Drue said.

“Does it?”

Drue looked at the children with their faces against the stone and the wild young griffons deciding whether trust was possible.

“A rider serves the message. Then the one who sent it. Then the Dominion.”

“And Kefar?” Blena asked.

“Kefar pays.”

Drue glanced towards the nearest landing platform, where two riders spoke quietly while a third watched the road below. “That arrangement has troubled more riders than Pyrathis realizes. Some have been asking what happens when the message and the one paying for it no longer serve the Dominion.”

Blena nodded. “That is the most sensible arrangement I have heard here.”

That evening, Drue asked them to remain in the house.

He left without Dasher.

• • •

Six riders waited inside an abandoned condenser station beneath the western landing platforms. The machine’s stone-and-metal-lined funnels had long ago collapsed. Water ticked from somewhere in the dark, one drop at a time.

Sella stood nearest the door. The others kept their hoods raised even after Drue entered.

“There are two new faces here so If any of you do not trust the riders gathered in the room,” he said, “leave now.”

No one moved. Sella had hand-picked them from rider squads she knew well or had flown with in the past. They knew why they were gathering and none of it were new concerns to them. Drue was only the first to ask that they do something about them. He told them everything he could.

He told them the mission on behalf of the High Council, the defection of the Mechanum, the unusual issue of the warrants, the pursuit across the Crestrealms, Alfer’s disappearance and the ancient mechanisms connected to the Heartwell. He told them Kaelen Thorne had been named a crystal thief and impersonator. He told them the Mechanum was Anderix, a fugitive from the Ascendancy, but that he had only stayed with them to investigate and had committed no crimes. Finally, he explained that the unknown griffon rider from the Thalorian Tide heist described in the notices was him.

One of the hooded figures gave a quiet laugh.

“They made you sound taller,” the rider said.

“Official documents often improve me.”

“The reward says one hundred gold for delivery in any condition.”

“I am touched.”

“Fifty for information leading to arrest.”

“Less touched.”

Sella did not smile. “Tell them the rest.”

Drue looked around the circle.

“Thrankal’s people say he is travelling here in Emberwild Dominion, inspecting riders and negotiating contracts. He is not. They say Kaelen’s accomplices are unknown, yet the notices describe our classes, movements and injuries. Someone is receiving reports faster than ordinary Blackbirds can carry them. Kefar is using our riders and routes while hiding the messages from us.”

“That is a dangerous accusation,” said Morth, an older rider who had never taken a contract for Kefar.

“Yes.”

“Against the government that feeds riders here and the city of Pyrathis?” asked another.

“Kefar provides employment for riders from Kael’Voryn, and it supplements Pyrathis,” Sella said. “It does not feed either.”

“Tell that to the lower farms after a bad winter.”

Drue let the disagreement stand.

“I am not asking you to forge a rebellion,” he said. “I am asking you to know which messages you carry. If a notice moves through Pyrathis naming a traveller, a village or a hidden route, I need a copy to move outside Pyrathis. If one of us disappears, the others need to know where the last order came from.”

The older rider folded his arms. “You want a second network beneath the first.”

“The first belongs to whoever pays for it.”

“And the second?”

Drue looked from one shadowed face to the next.

“The Emberwild Dominion.”

Water struck stone in the darkness in audible drips.

Sella removed a message cord from her wrist. It was plain, braided from black and grey fibre. She cut it in two with her riding knife and passed one half to Drue.

“If a message carries this beneath its seal,” she said, “it travels rider to rider. No registry. No copy for Pyrathis.”

The young man beside her removed his own cord.

Then the older rider sighed.

“This is how treason begins.”

“No,” Sella said. “This is how poor people get some choices of their own.”

“Still comes with a penalty that I find hard to live with?”

“That’s the point. We can’t choose who and when to serve when threats hang over us. Besides, six riders in the highlands of Kael’Voryn are hardly a resistance movement.”

One by one, the cords were cut.

They did not give the association a name that night. Names made things easier to report. But when Drue returned to the house with the half-cord tied beneath his sleeve, he understood that Kael’Voryn’s sky no longer belonged entirely to Pyrathis.

The Rider Network existed.

Thy Quest 3: A Moment of Exhilaration
Describe the first time you flew, or another experience that made you yell with excitement. Explain what you were doing, how you felt before it began, what caused you to yell and how you felt afterwards. Include enough sensory detail to help the reader experience the moment with you.