The next morning, I was awoken to the sounds of combat outside. Shouts and screams and the clash of weapons wasn’t really what I was expecting to wake up to but I rubbed my eyes sleepily and tried to wrap my head around what had taken place, apparently around dawn.

There was a large crowd of travelers now, and I saw Kirk fighting another older man, he was dressed the same as him except he was using a large stone mace and shield instead of a spear. They were surrounded by two distinct groups of travelers who were egging them on as if it was some sort of sport.

I heard cheers and catcalls exchanged between the two groups. I looked around and spotted the teenager I had seen earlier sitting next to my barrier, ignoring the conflict. He had his wand out and was studying my working carefully as if trying to figure out how it was formed. I could feel the subtle probing at the outer layers of the warding and I smiled.

Throwing a rope ladder over the side I climbed down, cinching my battle harness tight and adjusting my sword bandolier as I approached him. He didn’t even notice me until I mentally prodded him out of my warding. Toppling backwards with a yelp, he winced and looked up. “Oh hey, morning!” He said cheerily and I nodded towards the combat.

“Some sort of contest?” I asked and he laughed bitterly.

“Asshats… yea the Beachlords found out about our little deal with you. They want in and Kirk don’t want to let them get a cut so they are fighting over who’s top dog… again.”

I gave a critical eye to the combat, and it looked less like a fight to the death and more like the two were just having fun. The larger man with the stone club had knocked down Kirk and laughed and stood back to let him get up and get his spear. Kirk was grinning and gave him a few friendly insults and they went back at it. It didn’t look like either one was trying too hard to kill the other.

“You don’t like that other group?” I asked the boy, and he shrugged as he studied the shifting patterns in my warding with interest, I tweaked it a bit mentally to make the symbology and scripting more visible, pulling back some of my encryption for a few moments. The look on his face was most entertaining. His eyes narrowed and he scratched his stubbly hair as he muttered darkly to himself. I tried not to laugh. This kid really didn’t have much of a clue what he was trying to puzzle out or ever how to read basic warding structure.

“Doesn’t really matter to me either way, both groups don’t like me much, it’s just that Kirk’s group doesn’t kill me on sight and tolerates me enough to let me tag along. I’m really not much use in a fight, and really that’s all they care about.” He spoke absently and he went back to muttering to himself and fuming as he tried to puzzle what he was looking at.

Idly, my hands rubbed across my brow as I pondered just what he meant about that. I knew if I tried to think too hard about travelers and consider all their peculiar traits I’d just hit the great seal and that wouldn’t do my morning any good. However, there were a few things I knew from some of the stories. Like how supposedly they were immortal.

Asking direct questions was out, I had already tried that with the last travelers I had met. Best I could do was remember some of what my grandad had said about them. I felt my mind slip away from his stories the harder I tried to remember, and I flinched and rubbed my head. The great seal was always stronger as you got older but some people like my grandad had just been less gripped by it. It was annoying.

“So, you don’t know any battle forms?” I asked and he considered me with a look of complete confusion as he shook his head sadly. “Nope… not really. I mean I can move water… well somewhat. I can make a bit of a glowing shimmer around me when I get angry and when I’m holding this wand but that’s just about it.”

I considered him for a bit. He was probably at an early stage in his development, and I wondered just how set his attunement was yet. Either you were born with a strong attunement as a magi, or you were born with power in your blood and you gained your attunement over the course of what you worked at. Anyone could break their attunement and settle their pattern in a different direction. The degree of a magi’s strength in any attunement varied but normally everyone discovered or was born into what they were good at.

In my case, I had been born to the winds, and my family was descended from godsborne of the wind. Our attunement was especially strong. I had no idea what a traveler was capable of, but some of the tall tales I had overheard about the exploits of these new travelers was quite daunting.

“Aright lad.” I bent down until I was at eye level where he sat on the ground outside my warding. “You want a job?” I asked and his eyes lit up.

“You… will take me away from this shithole?” He gestured at the two distracted groups of travelers and winced as he saw Kirk get knocked down again, this time with the big guy sitting on him trying to get Kirk into a painful arm bar.

“Not so fast… I’m not just going to give you a berth aboard my fair skiff, you have to earn it.” I smiled at him sardonically. I reached into a spellfolded pocket on my vest and pulled out a small toy I had trained on when growing up. It was a tiny ballast crystal on a silver chain.

“If you can keep this thing floating at will, I’ll consider you.” I said and tossed the trinket to him. It passed through the barrier with a hiss and crackle. He caught it and looked fearfully at the others to see if they had noticed the exchange.

The teenager stared at the small crystal that sat inert in his palm and looked up at me confused. “What is this thing?” He asked and I just stood up and flicked an errant bang out of my eyes and I turned my back to him and walked over to the rope ladder I had off of Sweetwind’s stern. Yawning, I climbed up to get a good perch above the little scuffle outside my warding.

Kirk had tapped out and the other man was pulling the man to his feet and they shook hands. They both turned to the rest of the gathered and the older man raised a fist in victory. I guessed what was coming and mentally added the rest of the newcomers to who could see the ship. The older man blinked and I glowered down at him as his jaw dropped in a parody of what the others had gone through the day before.

“You weren’t kidding Kirk! Shit, and that thing is just a little messenger ship? Tis huge!” He called out to me.

“Lass, my name be Tombason! I’m ur new negotiator!” He cawed and I saw Kirk roll his eyes and stalk off.

“I want the agreed cut Tombo!” He jeered and was given a disconcerted wave of affirmation by the other man. The man hefted his stone club and shield as he stalked up to the shimmering barrier and looked at it quizzically. “Ye ah already tried to get the squealer to break it for us?” He called at Kirk and he shrugged and nodded.

“It’s not like we have any other magic users, heck we tried that stupid wand with everyone and he’s the only one that gets it to glow. And no, he’s still just a noob, look at that NPC, she’s some kind of high-level magic user or something. I doubt anything on the island save old broke fang would even make a dent in it.”

Listening to their banter away as if I wasn’t even here, I just sighed and crossed my arms as I glared at the stupid travelers. “So are you fine gentleman going to deal with me or should I just upship and move on to Bagliona? I have enough supplies to make it there easily.” I growled, frustrated that all of my previous haggling was just a waste of time if I now had someone new to try and foist my junk onto.

“Bagliona?” The older warrior’s shrewd eyes fixed on me and he rolled up a nearby rotten log and sat down to peer at the stuff I had been dickering over with Kirk the evening before. I had moved most of what he had wanted to cloth mats just inside the barrier and he gave an appreciative whistle at the collection of old tools, junk and bits of cloth, beads and fancy embroidery kit I had arrayed out on it. It was much easier to see the collection in the light of day instead of swiftly falling twilight.

I slid down the rope ladder and pulled up a small folding stool I had used the day before and stretched out, peering at the man with a relaxed gaze. Smirking, I gestured grandly to my meager heap of junk as if it was the king’s own ransom.

“Lady Becca is it?” I nodded.

“Becca be fine, I’m no noblewomen or anything. I work for a living.” He nodded sagely and sighed.

“No offence to your fine offerings, Becca but they are all a bit worn. We are working on getting our bloomery up and I think we can manage better in a few weeks or so at least with the basic tools and knives you got there.” He licked his lips and stared up at Sweetwind longingly. I grinned at the sly old fox, remembering how my father used to introduce me to some of his more… colorful associates. This guy was probably born crooked if I’d ever marked anyone for such a role. I knew a certain cousin of mine with the same familiar attitude about him, and it was something that most sky folk held in great esteem. Other nations called us scoundrels, or worse but I liked to think we lived by our wits more often than not.

“Well I’m really not asking for much, a skiff really isn’t a trading vessel, it’s meant to travel light and this was pretty much all I could dig up. I’m sure you could use any of this stuff and be all the better for it.”

He nodded and looked at Kirk. “She looks like she can handle herself, think she can take out broke tooth?” I frowned at the two and he pointed off into the distant tree line. “You see we have a bit of a dragon problem.”

“Why should I kill anything that’s worrying you for free?” I asked and he just smirked at me. Even my shrug couldn’t hide the small spark of interest that had me intrigued. I knew I had felt something odd about that side of the island. The wind folk can always sense other predators of the skymarches. It didn’t quite feel like a dragon though, that wouldn’t have felt even remotely the same, even if it was a tamed dragon.

“It’s no dragon, I’d know if it was.” I said, rolling my eyes and grinning. If it was a dragon there would be more evidence. Dragons were typically quite large and very intelligent, and tended to leave a bit of a trail of destruction. They also preferred volcanic islands. One reason I had picked this island was that it didn’t have anything I could see from the air that could be home to a dragon roost.

Nope, had to be a drake or wyvern, I was betting more on it being a wyvern as drakes preferred upper elevation jungles and not so much the salty swamp sort of jungle like this island had. Wyverns also had a particular affinity for water and tidal swamps, something that was in abundance on the island.

The rest of them were exchanging glances, and I saw one of the women from the first group, the haughty one about to speak but someone else elbowed her. Sighing, I stood up and eyed the travelers with blatant distrust.

“I be guessing you will offer to show me it’s lair, for some of my… goods?” I asked and Tombason gave me a cautious nod.

“Two things… first I need to be provisioned, heck if I go look at your little issue and I find it’s out of my ability I’m not going to try and solve it for you. I still need supplies, and you will give me what I ask.”

Tombason nodded, and grinned at me. “Whatever you want lass, I know you people consider those creatures valuable for their loot, so I’m not going to pay you for killing it, it’s been a thorn in our side since day one.”

I nodded. “Second, do know if somehow you do manage to break my warding, the ship won’t work for you people. It’s keyed to me and also has a mind of its own.” I glared at Tombason and he raised his hands in mock surrender.

“Figured as much, from what I’ve heard about those airships.” He said and pointed at Sweetwind.

I gestured at the bundles of supplies on the other side of the barrier. The group of travelers still had yet to return my water barrels, but there were plenty of strings of dried fish, and meat as well as bundles of fruit and other items scattered around. I had particularly asked for some sweetroot, and described the tuber to Kirk who had found several baskets of the stuff. It was like a potato, and I knew that it was a common plant on these islands. It tasted quite good when properly prepared, and could also be turned into a paste and dried for making different types of ration.

“Tombason, I’m going to make sure I cast purity rites on everything, if you want me to stop by here on the way back from Bagliona don’t try anything cute. I don’t mind picking up something better to trade with in port for you fine… fellows.” I gazed skeptically at the motley crew gathered around my warding.

“Ah lass, I’m willing to deal on the level. And I do have a list of a few things I can give you to shop for us, and in return I’m willing to offer a few more… valuable items we may had acquired.” Tombason’s grin was shrewd and calculating. I shivered, and made a promise to be more careful in where I decided to set down next time if I came back. And to spend time making a proper landing circle here I could activate from the air as I approached.

They were up to something, of that I had no doubt. I had dealt with his kind all my life, and I could get that sort of uneasy feeling that I was missing something here. I looked around for their little magi, but he had vanished as soon as Tombason had come up to chat.

I looked up at the sky and judged the winds as I tried to gauge the air pressure. I’d have clear skies today for a bit, but I could feel a storm somewhere nearby. Felt more like a small squall then a real blow though. I would have to lift ship by the evening if I wanted to make my delivery at Bagliona on time. I had rested enough.

“Right then, let’s make this exchange! Where be my water barrels?” I asked and Tombason held a muted conversation with Kirk. “They will be back soon, there is a spring nearby, but they had to dam it so they could quickly fill the barrels.”

I sighed and walked over to a roll of canvas sail patch I had rolled up next to my stuff and I tossed it through the barrier. “Put the stuff on that and I’ll pull it through.” I said as I dragged the cloth mat with my junk on it to the barrier and pushed the corner of the mat through so they could grab it. They pulled the stuff out and complied with my request. I pulled their barter back in the barrier and piled it in the cargo net I had set out. Cinching the net, I climbed up to the deck on my rope ladder and wheeled up the goods with the block and tackle winch, then moved the cargo boom over the deck and set the stuff down.

Out of sight of the crowd, I passed my detection medallion over the stuff they had given me and nodded when I didn’t see any flash of script on the surface of the tool. It was clean, or at least I couldn’t detect any real issue with their provisions.

Taking the time to stow everything in warded perseveration bins, I finished in a few minutes and slid back down my ladder and pulled out a small navigator slate. Focusing on it, I mentally outlined the island and set it in the slate. Handing it through the barrier, I pointed at the island, with my own position marked.

“Where is your little beastie? I’ll take care of it.” I sighed.

Tombason studied the device a bit, marveling at it as he used his finger to poke and prod the terrain of the island as he tried to figure out how to manipulate it. I rolled my eyes and huffed. Everyone knew how to manipulate a basic slate; my navigator’s slate wasn’t much different from standard ones.

“Just point to where the beastie is, I’ll go take a look.” I snarled with impatience and he turned the slate towards me and pointed to the swampy jungle that started at the tree line and extended down out of the valley to the sea. Where his finger set, was where the sea met the jungle. He reluctantly handed back the slate to me and I studied the location. It was as much as I suspected. It had to be a wyvern, right next to where swamp met sea was an idea spot for one of them to have a nest.

Pocketing the tablet, I climbed back up into Sweetwind and descended down to the tiny armory next to the captain’s cabin. I would need a few things if I was right about hunting wyverns. The vile creatures were infamous for their caustic breath, among other things.

It took some time hunting down what I needed from the armory but I emerged wearing a small pouch containing a protective mask that I could breath though to protect my lungs from their toxic emanations, and a few general poison antidote vials. I was gambling that the wyvern was of the more common species that tended to live in tidal swampland and not one of the more dangerous varieties.

Adjusting my battle harness and pocketing a few extra containment crystals for emergency power, if I had to overextend myself, I gave a running leap and poured power into my harness. Leaning forward, I directed it out and over the meadow as I angled towards the tree line and the swamp downhill from it. The crowd below me gasped and pointed up at me as a few of them gave surprised waves and I did a barrel roll for them as I spread my arms out and steered myself through the winds.

The feeling of finally being back in the air even if for the small glide, was uplifting to my spirits and I gave a small whoop of joy. Below me, the island spread out in all its rugged glory. It wasn’t a very thick jungle as far as jungles went, more like a scrubby tropical swampland that had the elements of some jungles. There was a lot of color though, the green trees were bracketed by giant colorful jungle flowers, some of which I knew from experience, to be carnivorous. There were the large armored sea turtles basking along the banks of a lazy river that flowed down out of the hill and added to the tidal marsh that stretched out around the island in a sticky, hot and smelly embrace. Even high up above it I could smell the wet decay of the swampy undergrowth.

There were several subspecies of wyvern, and if it was the common variety it would be semi-aquatic as well as a passible flier. They more often soared on thermals and hunted fish or small game in the swamp. My mother had made me study almost every type of aerial predator on within Prime’s skymarches and many other varieties of airborne threats that weren’t as common to this realm, but did exist in abundance in others.

I had never been outside of Prime, but my mother’s family was supposedly from Talscar, a realm that had an active greater worldgate at the great northern spire of Keserwan. They had come to Prime several generations ago and settled in Swapper’s Needle with other Celestial Elves. Or so claimed the lore from my ancestors, that was still bound within mother’s small library. When growing up, I had been made to study much of it and I had only begun to master a fraction of what was contained in my grimoire, much less those ancient records.

Sometimes people did remark on my oddly colored eyes or my blue-black hair that was slightly iridescent, the mark of someone who had a bit of the fey blood in them like many of the races of other realms. In my case it was celestial elvish blood. My slightly pointed ears and the odd hair, I always made sure to keep hidden my aviator’s cap, and I made sure to dye my eyebrows to get the bluish hints out of them.

Humans, and even half-bloods mistrusted other races. They blamed them for just about everything that went wrong in Endaria, a sentiment that wasn’t always without merit. There were some very violent non-human races, even a few of them were of elvish decent. It mattered little to humans if celestial elves had never made war against the races of man residing in Prime, paranoia towards all non-humans tended to be more the norm than not.

My eyes picked out a large ball of sticks and dried mud, a nest of gigantic proportions and I squinted at it. Oddly enough there was a small footbridge raised above the water leading to it. That was definitely a wyvern nest. I recognized it from drawings in my mother’s books. But why the footbridge?

Gliding down, I was careful to settle on the largest of the massive swamp trees nearby as I pulled out my spyglass and lifted my fogging googles to peer through it. This was strange to say the least. I felt the shiver of dread wash over me again and I shrank back into the vines covering the canopy of the tree as a dark shadow fell over me. I looked up and gasped as the largest wyvern I had ever seen slowly glided out of the sun and landed on the bank next to its nest.

That thing was monstrous! Usually wyverns were less than twenty feet from snout to the end of their barbed tail’s tip but this thing had to be almost twice that! There was someone on the back of it, and I saw that it had a black flying rig of finely tooled leather.

My hands shaking, I lifted my spyglass to my eye again after rubbing the moisture from the lens. In the distance I heard a call and I saw one of the castaways sprinting down the footbridge towards the creature and its rider. The newcomer was dressed like the others from the group that had been trading with me and my eyes narrowed as he shouted at the rider and pointed uphill towards the small valley than to the sky as he peered around.

I would be having some words with Tombason. For now, I had to get back to Sweetwind at once and up ship now. There was no way I could fight that thing by myself, especially if it was tamed by someone. I was betting it was one of the types of beastkin that had the ability to talk to reptiles. I couldn’t identify the rider’s race from this distance but that was the most likely reason I was looking at certain death rather than a quick purse of gold.

Cursing Tombason and all of his ilk, I clenched my fingers around my focus crystal and carefully wove a distortion into the air to hide me from the sharp eyes of the wyvern. Launching off, I sped away, pouring speed into my flight as I fought not to panic. Behind me I heard the piercing cry of a creature and its rider on the hunt.