Rontu did his best to fight against the iron grip the Honno had him in. It seemed that once it realized this Shutok wasn’t dangerous to the touch like Serratia, it clamped down like a vise. Rontu found his right arm pinned underneath the talons, unable to move much. His left arm furiously beat against the creature’s belly, but as they rose higher and higher into the air Rontu left much less compelled to force the Honno to release him.

The fires of the raider camp were slowly shrinking in size as each flap of the four wings took Rontu higher and higher. It was only a matter of time before the hazy clouds of the Barrens began to mist against the Shutok’s armor, slowly blocking out his view of the Earth below with a sea of white fluff.

The Honno breached the cloudy layer, scattering vapor in a large puff as it pulled its feet close to its body, Rontu coming with them. The view stunned him in a moment of pure awe, bright and twinkling stars spreading across the endless expanse of dark violet sky in every direction. It was enough to almost make him forget the circumstances in which he was granted it. The wind gently rolled across the curvature of his armor as he swayed his head from side to side and absorbed the experience. With his back to the sky and his belly to the Earth, it almost felt like he himself was flying.

Rontu heard the sound of ruffling feathers, the wind against his helmet growing rougher. The clouds rushed towards him as he plunged downward. The stars disappeared almost instantly. The roar of air flying past his head was almost deafening as they quickly traversed the cloudy layer, the dimming fires of the camp now quickly growing in size. Rontu felt his stomach churn and rise to his lower chest as he realized what the Honno was doing;

They were falling.

The same as when it had first picked him up, the monster had tucked its features as close to its body as it could. The pair plummeted toward the ground at a dizzying pace, a slipstream forming around them as they rapidly gained speed. Rontu felt the Honno shift slightly, rolling backward as it positioned its feet toward the ground.

Rontu loved the dirt. He loved the soil. That didn’t mean he wanted to become one with it. His free arm once again began beating any part of the Honno it could reach, yanking out any errant pieces of plumage he could get his hand on. His fist slammed against the injured legs, desperately pulling, scratching, and clawing for some sort of hold that would put him back on top.

The ground loomed close below, now less than one hundred feet. It shortly became less than fifty. Rontu tightly closed his eyes, his vision going dark as he prepared to become a paste of guts and armor.

The Honno was suddenly wrenched backward, the force enough to pull its momentum in a completely new direction. Rontu curled into an almost fetal position as they were suddenly yanked in a way that would instantly break the spine of a normal human. His eyes shot open, the horizon now in his view instead of the ground.

He felt the Honno extend its wings, aggressively flapping them to reorient itself upright and maintain control. He turned his head in the direction they were heading, noticing the thin wire jutting from the creature was now pulled tight again. Rontu traced the line with his eyes, following the length down until he spotted the source.

Serratia waved her arm at him, the anchor harpoon now firmly tied around the guard railing on the back of the Gemmer as it raced forward. Shen stood next to her, giving his friend a small nod of acknowledgment.

Rontu breathed out a sigh of relief with enough gusto that it made him cough, waving back with his free arm.

The Honno was less than pleased, unfurling its wings and creating an immense amount of drag as it was towed like a bloodthirsty kite.

“Rontu! You alright?” Serratia shouted out to him, her voice barely audible through the rushing wind.

He gave her a small salute, clearly thankful despite the fact that he was still in the Honno’s clutches. The line seemed much more secure now than it did in the dirt, not even budging against the immense weight being pulled against it. Hope glimmered inside him a bit, but the situation hadn’t changed much. The only source of power he had was passing underneath him as seventy miles an hour. Rontu never felt more useless as a Shutok, but at least this had bought him some time to think.

Now that he was closer to the ground, he tried to wiggle his trapped arm free once more. He tugged it a few times, but the Honno only clenched harder against his struggle. No dice. Rontu gave one more good effort, his hand brushing against something as he did so. He awkwardly twisted his wrist as he patted his side down, feeling for whatever had caught his attention. His fingers gently intertwined between something thin and loose. A string? Rontu traced the string down his hip, feeling the top of a cylinder poking out from his compartment.

“No way!” He audibly gasped. It wasn’t a string, it was a fuse! Rontu was still carrying the dynamite he had been given in the tent. He felt his heart hammer in his chest again, anxiousness welling up inside him as he tried to formulate some sort of plan with this new information.

“Serratia!” he yelled at the top of his lungs. “I need two things!”

He watched as she leaned forward, listening closely. Rontu had to repeat himself a few times, but she eventually understood.

“Can you reel us in?” he shouted at her. “Like closer to the Gemmer?”

She looked around for a moment before she cautiously nodded. The last thing they wanted was the Honno immediately opening fire as soon as it landed.

“And the other thing! I need a lighter! Like a flame or a match!”

Serratia seemed to look around for a moment turning from side to side before she perked up. She pulled her arm back and her knee into the air, pitching a small object in Rontu’s direction. It was only a dark speck in the air, but with a bit of anxiety-inducing finesse, he was able to catch it between his knuckles.

He held it up to his face, shaking his head in disbelief. “This is a rock!” he shouted at her, looking back down before flinching at his own stupidity. It wasn’t just a rock;

It was flint.