Terror Eighteen - Snack​

The lead wyvern, the largest in the pack, lands with the grace of a bird of prey, wings sweeping around and kicking up a gust that has me stumbling back a step.

“I, uh,” I swallow. “I have to admit I’m not super fond of flying. At all. But wyverns are very fast, and they can fly high enough that we won’t have a hard time spotting something like a caravan, even if it’s a day’s travel ahead of us.”

Felix’s jaw is hanging open. “Is that a dragon?”

I push my glasses up the bridge of my nose, happy that I can turn this into a teaching moment. “No, it’s a wyvern. Taxonomically, they’re in the same family as dragons, but you’ll note that their wings are actually ‘arms.’ At least, that’s how they’re attached to their skeletons. A dragon has four limbs, and their wings are actually on their upper backs, like shoulder blades.”

“It feels like a dragon to me,” Felix says.

“They do share some ancestry, I think. Well, not these, they’re monsters, so they didn’t exactly evolve into their shape. Which is interesting. Why do monsters look the way they do? And why do they so often look like creatures seen in nature? It’s an intriguing question, but no one seems to have explored it. At least, no one who I’ve found.”

“I’m not sure about all of this,” Felix says.

“We’ll be fine.”

And then the kidnappers, who I had totally forgotten about, burst through the underbrush. Six guys armed with knives and clubs.

“Got you, you little... oh,” the biggest of them says.

I blink at him, then follow his gaze to where he was staring at the wyvern next to me. It must have been somewhat intimidating to expect to come across two girls and instead find yourself up against a four-metre-long monster with scaled skin and teeth longer than a handspan.

“A-a dragon!” one of them squeaks.

“Actually, it’s a wyvern,” I correct.

They start screaming.

I sigh, and then point at them while glancing back to the wyvern. Another pair of the big flying monsters land in the clearing, and a few more circle overhead. I give the monsters a simple order.

“Snack.”

Felix ducks down as the wyverns shoot off after the would-be kidnappers; only the biggest of them stays back. I press a hand to its chest, keeping it in place. Well, not literally. It’s a lot heavier and stronger than me, but it listens to what I say because Mom would be really miffed if it didn’t.

“Let’s pack our things away,” I say as I shrug off my backpack and the bag full of food I got at the inn.

“Okay,” Felix says.

I’m glad that Felix isn’t too bothered by the sounds of people screaming and the wyverns having an impromptu snack. The kidnappers even have a chance to get away, what with the woods providing good cover. As long as they zigzag, they might be fine.

The wyvern, quite conveniently, has some large bags on its saddle, so it’s not too hard to shove my backpack in, then the one filled with food. Felix’s bag fits snugly on the other side.

“Okay,” I say once everything is set. I’ve pulled out my scarf from one of the bags and after a bit of consideration, give it to Felix, who hesitantly wraps it around her neck. I keep my flight goggles for myself, though, it’s not as if they’d help Felix at all. “There should be plenty of room on the saddle for both of us. I think. Just, uh, go on first, and I’ll get in front.”

Felix tilts her head, then takes a deep breath before she climbs up and into the saddle. “This isn’t very comfortable,” she says as she pushes herself back.”

“I know,” I say. “We can take breaks every couple of hours if you want. The saddle is cushioned, but your bum will still get sore. Better than a horse though.”

“I’ve never touched a horse,” Felix says.

“Huh... actually, me neither. We have horse-like monsters at home though. One of them is like a unicorn, but evil. It’s kinda neat looking, even though it really doesn’t like me for some reason.” I grab onto the saddle, and then a spine along the wyvern’s back, and hoist myself up. Felix leans back just in time to avoid an accidental kick, and I flop down onto the saddle before her.

It takes some shifting and wiggling--skirts aren’t optimal for wyvern-back riding--but soon we’re ready to take off.

I lean forwards so that I’m closer to the wyvern’s ear. “Let’s go. We’re heading west, along the coast of Ares’ Pond.”

The wyvern stretches its wings as wide as they’ll go, and I’m reminded why I don’t like flying when it launches itself straight up.

It feels like my stomach stays right where it is while the rest of me is tossed into the air, then everything snaps back into place.

Felix screams into my ears and I clutch the saddle.

“This... this is great!” Felix yells.

Her arms are splayed out, straight to either side, and she laughs as the wyvern beats hard against the air and pushes us higher and higher.

“Y-you like this?” I ask.

“Yeah! We’re moving so fast! I can feel so far!”

The wyvern isn’t using magic to achieve flight, just a lot of muscle and bone and simple physics. I guess that means that there’s nothing magical interfering with Felix’s wind-sense and, with the wingbeats no doubt helping her project her senses further, I can imagine her gaining a wider field of “vision” in exchange for a less accurate picture.

All very academic knowledge that in no way helps me as I’m working hard to keep my lunch where it belongs.

The wyvern tilts, and I scream as a pair of arms wrap themselves around my torso. It’s just Felix holding on, but I can’t help but imagine her being thrown off and carrying me with her.

Of course, that’s silly; the wyvern is flying slowly and steadily. Soon we’re joined by the others, some of whom have faces covered in splatters of blood and gore from their snacks.

I keep my eyes closed, at least until our flight levels off. Felix’s grip loosens and I peek out, looking over the side to the ground that’s far, far below.

“Oh boy,” I breathe.

If I can look past the fact that everything is very far away, it’s not hard to make out the road cutting across the landscape. Much of the area is entirely untouched. There are too many monsters this far from the city, so there aren’t any homes or anything.

The area around the road is cleared; no trees for a ways and the brush looks like it’s frequently burned down to keep the grass low.

It’s a precaution to stop monsters from sneaking up on any passing caravans.

I can’t see any caravans though, not for as far as I can make out, which isn’t that great with goggles on instead of my glasses.

Still, I figure it won’t be hard to spot them when we get close enough. The road is dry, and there hasn’t been rain in the last couple of days. They’ll be kicking up dust.

“Whelp, we have a bunch of time and not much to do,” I say.

“Do you know any stories? You’re smart, right?”

I cough. Obviously I wouldn’t blush at such faint praise, but it’s nice to hear. “Well, I guess I know a thing or two. Honestly, I don’t read that many fiction books, but I know plenty of stories that are at least a little true.”

“A little true?”

“Who wrote a story will tell you a lot about what was and wasn’t exaggerated. If you’re on the same side as the hero, you’ll speak well of them, but if you’re on the other side, they’re your enemy, and you’re not likely to consider them worth a lot of praise.”

“I think that makes sense,” Felix says. “We have heroes in the Roughs, but the guards are always talking about them like terrible people. Brie Who Stole Bread was my favourite hero.”

“I never heard of that one.”

“It’s about a girl that was real clever and who stole an entire bakery’s worth of bread,” Felix says. “And then she gave it out to everyone that needed something to eat, which is everyone in the Roughs.”

“That’s something,” I say. “Most of the stories I know are a bit... bigger in scope. My favourite story is about Roderic the Renegade. I like the ending.”

“His name and title have the same sounds at the start?”

“A lot of heroes are named that way. It’s easier to remember, I guess,” I say.

“How does it end?” Felix asks.

“Well, the official ending in the books is that after a big final battle in the land of monsters, he strikes a blow against the God of Darkness, and she’s so impressed she lets him return to his home where he lives happily ever after. But I asked Mom, and she said that he was a bit of an idiot, and by the time she noticed him invading, her monsters had already eaten him.”

“Oh,” Felix says.

“But the stories are really entertaining! He was the hero of his age!”

***