Like a headless chicken Obi ran around trying to rouse the sailors to prayer only to at best be met with polite explanations that they did not speak or know the local hymns and at worst was given glares and told to get lost.

The coffee maids stared at him with big dark eyes as he tried with charades to get them all together and sing.

“La-aa! Glory to Rhuman!”

No response.

Obi’s throat began to feel cramped and dry. He was sure they had understood that he wanted them to sing but no one took the first tone or tried to organize themselves.

“What in the heavens did I sign up for?” Obi thought with a heavy sigh. But he would not give up so easily, after all his friends were counting on him. So next thing Obi tried was to head across the street to the little pink choir house.

Obi dove to the other building but still it was enough for his hair and shoulders to become drenched. The storm was getting worse by the minute. Water poured like waterfalls down the rooftops and the wind clawed its way through the streets.

The choir house was naught but a small chapel with woven leaf mats to sit on and a stage at the end for the choir. There were no doors but instead an open archway for people to come and go as they pleased, or as Obi quickly noted, as the animals of the port pleased. Stray cats seeking shelter huddled together on the mat. A tiny orange furred ape hid up on the beams criss-crossing over the high ceiling together with a flock of birds with sizable hooked beaks and donning feathers in white, yellow, green and red.

Lightning struck. Shadows of the animals played on the walls. The birds squawked, the sound carried across the chapel in a chorus of cries, the shadows of their wings moved in a dramatic display across the ceiling.

“Hello there. Who might you be, young man?” An old gravelly voice called out to Obi.

The sailor turned his gaze downwards and found a smiling elderly man. He was quite lanky, devoid of any hair, feathers or scales but made up for it in wrinkles over his pale toad-like skin. The monkey swung down from the ceiling and clambered onto the man’s simple earthen robes, making him buckle down and a loud snap like a breaking twig.

“Ack! My back.”

Obi rushed over to support the man, lending his arm. The little primate looked at Obi with big black eyes and held on tightly to the senior.

“You alright?”

“Yes. Yes. Help me sit down would you.”

With a careful hand Obi guided the senior down on the floor and propped him up against the wall.

“Thank you, young man. Now tell me, why are you here? You don’t look like a street urchin looking for shelter.”

“My name’s Obi. I’m a sailor in the Golden Circuit. But for the moment I’m trying to get people to sing for Rhuman to help my friends to deal with this storm. It’s not going too well though. I can’t speak Rhimise or put meaning into the songs even if someone told them to me, and no one seems to want to start singing. I thought I could get some help here at the choir house.”

“That is a predicament. Sadly, as you can see, no one is here, except for me, Vikrameshq, chaplemaster of this community choir, my trusty companion Paprika and our guests." At the mention of her name the monkey perked up and cooed which the senior returned with a hug.

Obi looked around wildly as if searching faster would have the choir house reveal some secret or clue as to how to help him.

“Where’s the singers? Should not everyone be out for the festival or trying to calm the storm?”

“The choir is not to gather until much later in the day and that is for the parade. I’d imagine everyone is in their homes, safe and wondering if this odd weather will blow over. I’m sure they would come out if they saw people chanting.”

An idea came to Obi, lighting up his face, the chapel master looked with curiosity into his eyes.

“If I brought my crew could you lead us in song?”

“I like your spirit, young man! I assume your crew can sing?”

“Yes sir. We sing often to pray and to pass the time. Though we do not know any local hymns.”

“Leave that to me. Now go with haste! I will see about getting some life into these old bones of mine.”

"Thank you Vikrameshq, Paprika, you are lifesavers!"

Obi tippy-toed over the huddle of cats and then made a mad dash out into the storm.

Things developed quickly from there. Obi got back to the ship where he managed to recruit five of his fellow sailors, among them his brother Iffa, but the captain had been clear that they were to return to the ship on a set time as the Goldfish would leave port the moment an opportunity was given.

Virkameshq welcomed the sailors and with a quick rehearsal the sailors carried the chaplemaster around in a palanquin. They chanted and knocked on doors, their crew growing exponentially as the more people who sang the more would join in. Some joined in provoked by the sailors butchering their language, others joined as followers of Virkameshq who turned out to be a kind of local celebrity. Soon their voices vibrated through the city and carried over the storm.

“I haven’t felt this young in decades! Yeehoo!” The chapel master crowed from his regal seat on top the sailors shoulders.

The gushing water and howling wind provided the baseline for the soundscape. The galloping thunder made an irregular but epic drum. A choir of a hundred voices chanted in a cornucopia of languages. Obi stood on the pink belltower of the harbour choir house covered in sweat and euphoria. The bell rang out, resonating with all the bells ringing out across the city of Rhumm. The birds who had sought sanctuary in the choir house squawked and sung with the crowd. The trees swayed and bowed calling out of the aeon of the land. Obi felt feather light, barely aware of his own body.

“We have to go!” Iffa shouted from the street, bringing Obi back to reality. His brother was right, they would have to head back to the Goldfish and prepare to sail off.

Obi looked up at the sky. He did not want to leave before seeing his new friends once more, and after working so hard to get the people to sing he felt responsible to carry their voices to the critical moment.

“You guys go on ahead! I’ll catch up later!”

“Obi! We will leave you!”

A bolt of lightning struck the iconic bathhouse, sending tiles flying in the wind. The thunder was getting more violent and focused on the upper part of the city. Keeping his eyes on the sky Obi saw a shadow descended with a majestic roar, lightning attacking the dark speck in the sky. The light bounced off and danced like a halo around the figure and like a prism light in all the colours of the rainbow spread out over the clouds.

With a smile of realization Obi turned to his brother.

“Go on ahead! I will be there soon, trust me!”

The two brothers looked at each other, brows furrowed in determination. Iffa slumped his shoulders and sighed. Obi almost did not catch his older brother muttering “damned idiot.” Before he threw his arms up in a dismissive gesture and rounded up the other crew members to return to the ship.

The crowd burst out in cheers at the presence of the Tiamat avatar. Obi reminded himself to stay focused and continue his song and to encourage the others to do the same. If they could calm the storm just a bit and stop the rain with their prayers to Ramuh it would make flying that much easier, though it was hard to get words out as he saw the rainbow dragon snaking its way towards him.

Another strike of lightning had Obi hide his eyes and like a magic trick a grin of diamonds appeared inches away from his face. Scales, feathers and glassy insect wings glimmered like Obi had been transported to an ancient divine treasury.

“Oh dear, cut it a bit close with the landing. Are you alright sir Obi?” From the top Anas’amlar poked up his head, squinting his one eye and straining to focus on the sailor. The summoner's dark hair was plastered to his face and his upper body adorned with clattering charms.

“I’m good! Happy to see you made it!”

“And you too, my friend. The chorus is splendid!”

A hand stuck out from a tuft of white in Anas’s lap, surprising Obi. “Hi Obi! I’m Merryneith, nice to meet you!”

“Hello? Do I know you?”

“Nope!”

“Merryneith is a princess, she is here to lend us a hand with her Tiamat blessings.”

Obi nodded knowingly like an idiot who clearly had not registered anything of what was happening.

“Catch!”

Looking alive, Obi caught on instinct the long object thrown at him. It was a tree rifle, a thing of gnarled wood and loaded with seeds with the power to burst through rocks. He also noted the glass scope mounted on top which signalled its higher quality.

“You know how to shoot, sailor?” Risha called out, smiling at Obi from behind the summoner. She was gorgeous. Sitting in a simple torn dress and with a rifle at the ready. Obi made an audible gulp and nodded vigorously, it was through his time in the army he had met his crew and later trained to become a helmsman.

“It has been a while, but I used to be the top shot of my regiment!”

“Then get up soldier, we may need your expertise in this endeavour. Do you have emergency seeds with you?”

“Always do, my lord!”

Obi clambered up on the dragon with some help from Risha and took a seat behind her, the crowd singing out with new vigour as Tiamat folded out their wings and took to the skies. The ground quickly grew smaller and smaller under Obi. Down below he could spot the wrinkly old chapel master and Paprika waving. Obi waved back shouting “Thank you!” loud enough to make his throat go horse.

Merryneith had her small talons wrapped around the summoner's hands, the two guiding the dragon to a position where they might spot the unicorn. Any lightning that got too close was turned to harmless rainbow lights but still the wind and rain made it impossible to spot anything with the rifle scopes.

“We need to go above the storm!”

Obi called and the summoner responded with a curt nod. If they went for Ixion now they would be running blind in the clouds. The dragon called out a crystal roar and with a puff they entered a serene world of light pink clouds and an orange morning sun. Below them was a meadow of rolling ashen hills.

“What now?” Risha asked, always focused on the task at hand.

“This is the part where we pray Obi’s work will prove fruitful. My dear friend, would you lead us in song?”

Without hesitation Obi nodded, got out a few coughs and with a pained gravelly voice he repeated the chant Vikrameshq had taught him, the other joining in on the second repetition. The clouds moved and Obi could swear he saw a giant storm cloud hand part the skies. The voices from down below swelling and swireling in this opening of light. Tiamat flew down. The clouds were heavy with rain and flying through them was like passing through waterfalls, but no drops were falling.

Obi was shaking and out of breath. Risha creasing his arm reassuringly as the helmsman coughed and wheezed.

“Does anyone spot Ixion?”

“I sense them. Brother, I think they are crying in pain.”

Risha got out her rifle and together with the help of the princess they found the unicorn jumping between the grey sponges, rapidly making its way towards the group from below.

“I see a dark spike in it’s back. There’s ooze an black veins. Does not look good at all.”

Obi, having recovered somewhat, got out his own rifle to look. Ixion reminded him of the princess in some ways. A frizzy white mane and a giant lightningstrike for a horn. It adorned a ragged metallic rib cage that glowed in contrast to the storm grey body. On its back a solid black thorn larger than Obi was pulsating with dark corruption, sickly dark oil bubbling around the wound.

“I have never heard of such a thing! Brother, what do we do?”

“We should shoot it, give em a poke and see if we can’t get out the spike.”

“Good idea Risha. Obi, Risha, you two take a few test shots, Meryneith, try to invoke a blessing. I will keep our flight steady and try to give you an angle.”

“We will do our best lord Anas! We will need to be side by side with Ixion to shoot.”

With a nod Anas’amlar steered Tiamat to make a slow and steady curve. As the unicorn got closer Obi could feel the trembles of their hoofs, his scope jumping with the rhythmic thumps. As long as they kept slightly above Ixion the freezing oil would not touch them. Obi’s largest concern was if Ixion got too close and hit them with a force strong enough to send them flying if not break their bodies on impact.

Ixion had gained on them with it’s superior speed and were now racing along with the dragon. Obi took the first shot, the seed fanning out into a rain of steel, his blood running cold as the recoil was a bit stronger than he had anticipated. Most of the seeds bounced harmlessly off the aeon while the black ooze popped and sprayed with black oil upon impact. Some of the black fountain evaporated into the air upon Merryneith calling her blessing.

“No good. It’s like a void sucking out my powers. I would need a conduit!”

Ixion neighed in pain, a barrage of wind and lightning coming right for them. Anas tried his best to gain more distance, rising higher, the four of them holding on tight.

“What’s a conduit?”

“My staff or dagger. It amplifies and concentrates the blessings of an aeon.”

“Incoming!”

A wind blast hit Tiamat right in its side, Anas turning in time for none of them to get hit. The dragon simply shook off the deadly impact and continued it’s flight.

“Do we not have any other attacks?”

“This Tiamat avatar can charge energy to fire with its wings, but we don’t have the space for it and Ixion is too swift.”

“And with ya conduit?”

“It should work in theory as a quick channel, but we would not have any range.”

For the second time that day an idea sprung to life within Obi, his eyes lighting up with inspiration.

“Princess, please begin blessing the knife! We need to prepare and get Ixion right below us.”

“Are you mad Obi? You will die!”

“I have seeds. I know I can do this. You just need to believe in me!”

“I believe in you sir Obi!”

The princess called out and began her chanting. Risha fished the bejeweled knife from Anas’almar’s sash and handed it over to Obi. The horse would not make it easy as it raced to run along and tried to ram into them. On one such ramming attempt Anas held his course and then had Tiamat roll over. While the others clinged on for dear life Obi let go. Turning and falling. He slammed the glowing knife into Ixion’s neck and a kaleidoscope of colour blinded him. The unicorn bucked and howled. Obi’s forehead received a hard slam but he kept his grip. Ixion slowed down, crying into the sky. In his periphery Obi registered a growing source of light. His fingers were growing numb with cold. The black needle had a foul smell of decay. The front of Obi’s pants froze solid.

With a wave of rainbow light the unicorn called out it’s last scream, this time of relief and gratitude. Ixion dissolved into light and white fluffy foam. Left were the black tendrils flailing helplessly at the ghostly remains of the avatar. The black needle free falling down into the abyss below.

For a moment Obi was featherlight. Gravity embracing him with wide open arms. The sun caressed his face and the wind carried the praises of the city.

With trained precision Obi reached into his pocket and slammed a handful of seeds against the wooden soles of his boots. With balance and strength Obi kept himself upright, the seeds sprouting out into little green buds that held him up against the pull of the world.

“Obi!”

Risha called out to him, tears of relief glinting at the edge of her eyes.

“We made it.” He replied back, doing his best to not lose balance.

Merryneith jumped off Tiamat, she spread her white wings and flew up to Obi, grabbed him under his arms and pushed him forward. After a bit of fiddling Obi made it back to the dragon’s back.

“Sorry lord Anas. I think I dropped your knife.”

“No worries. It’s just a material thing. Glad to have you still with us, brave sir Obi.”

“Are ya legs alright?” Risha turned to look over her shoulder feeling the frozen icicle pants.

“Yep! Only a bit cold, but I did not touch any of that… that stuff.”

“Good. Then let’s head back. I will have to investigate exactly what happened here and report to the temple.”

Before Tiamat could turn around Obi shouted “Wait! My ship! They must have already left.”

Risha brought out her rifle and searched the sky and indeed she caught the shine of solar sails. “This your ship?”

Obi took a look and almost jumped with joy at the familiar shape of the Goldfish.

“It is! It is!”

“Hold on everyone!” Merryneith giggled as she took her piloting position with her brother, the two guiding Tiamat through a blue sky. The clouds, scattered and tossed around by the storm, cried little droplets that made rainbows in the sun.

The faces of the Goldfish crew when Obi came flying in were priceless. Dumbstruck they stood gaping.

“Obi you ass herder you never showed up!”

Iffa crossed his arms, and with a stern look in his eyes.

“Sorry, I got busy.”

Obi prepared to jump, Anas slowing down Tiamat and searching for a smoother drop off then last. Before taking off though Obi turned to his new friends, a new thought gripping his heart.

“Will I get to see you again?”

“I will stay here. I have a lot of work ahead of me here in Rhumm.” Anas answered soberly.

“I’m coming with tha festival caravan, so we might see each other at tha next stop.”

Merryneith just shrugged, but it was a good enough answer for Obi. He made the jump, falling and catching himself on the mast.

“I’ll write! I promise! And hope to see you soon Risha! Wish us luck!”

He waved with both arms and the dragon turned away to fly back to port. The crew showered Obi with questions before captain Selma broke up the commotion and sent Obi away to change his clothes and take the helm.

“Seriously. With the way you are acting, do you even want to win this race?”

Selma shook her head, rubbing her temples.

“I do! But there are also other things, and I could not just leave them.”

“You might have saved the day this time, but do not make a habit of pulling these kinds of stunts.”

“Aye, aye captain!”