Season I | Episode III | Chapter III

Tarrick can only watch in horror as the mountain scorlion moves towards the Growing Rock. With each enormous step, the ground shakes. The scorlion roars. It rears up and slams its two front paws on the ground. Two orange and red walls shoot up, straight towards the sky. As if by command.

Tarrick’s lips shake. “That thing can actually control Meaning,” he whispers in Grandma’s ear.

Were the Wide Canyons the product of this creature’s angry outbursts?

The mountain scorlion walks towards the Growing Rock. It reaches the base. With another roar, it starts to climb. Using every single one of its legs, it ascends. Up, up, up. At the top, Isolniel looks down. She starts to scream. A long, high-pitched wail. It only ends up making the mountain scorlion angrier. That beast roars again. Isolniel wraps herself around the tip of the Growing Rock and closes her eyes. She never stops screaming.

There’s nowhere for her to go.

“What are we supposed to do?” asks Prothea.

“I don’t know!” answers Tarrick. “Grandma, what are we going to do?”

“Me?”

“Yes, you! You’re the experienced Chronicler here!”

Grandma’s mouth hangs open. “I’ve never faced an angry giant mountain scorlion before! I…” Her paws dig deep into her face when she grabs her head. “I don’t know what to do!”

Tarrick looks around. He looks at Isolniel, clinging to the tip of the Growing Rock. His gaze follows the sheer rock. The mountain scorlion is on its way. His gaze goes down further, towards the base of the Rock. Towards the mouth of the cave. Towards the lair of the beast.

“I have an idea.”

Tarrick runs. He barely hears Grandma yelling at him to stop. He runs as if in slow motion. The cave seems farther and farther with each step. Not for long. He’s almost there. Almost. A few steps more… Something pulls on Tarrick’s tail. Pulling him back.

Prothea.

“What do you think you’re doing?!?!”

“I’m trying to save Isolniel’s life!” Tarrick spins around. Prothea lets go of his tail. Tarrick puts himself in her face. “Don’t you think there might be something inside that cave? Something the mountain scorlion doesn’t want us to see? Why do you think it’s so protective of its own territory?”

“I don’t know! It has anger issues?”

Tarrick’s paws grip at the empty air. “Come on, there’s no time to waste! Trust me.” Tarrick points at the sky. “Trust me or she’s dead!”

Prothea’s eyes become steely. “I trust you. Let’s go.”

Tarrick starts to run towards the opening of the cave again. Prothea gets there first with a few flutter of her wings. Tarrick squeezes right between the stalagmites. Between the teeth of the mouth. He shudders at the thought. It’s dark in there, but his eyes quickly adjust to the lack of light. There’s not much in there. A few old-fashioned metal armours, the kind worn by the knights of old. Half-eaten old clothes. Prothea sniffs around. She backs away from a corner, paw on her nose. He doesn’t want to know why. He really, really doesn’t want to know why. Tarrick walks inside the cave. Something cracks under his foot. Bone. He’s stepped onto a skeleton’s rib cage.

There are others. Davrian skeletons.

“Great. Okay. Wonderful.”

Tarrick swallows the bile building in his throat. He looks further. There’s stalagmites here too, blocking his line of sight. He stumbles around one. More skeletons. More clothes. A rusted sword lies on its side. Useless. What’s that on the ground? Straw. That looks like straw. And that big, slick rock… It’s shaped like… like a bowl. No. Not a bowl. A nest. He’s found the mountain scorlion’s bed.

Tarrick leans around the edge of the bowl. He gasps.

“Prothea?”

She jumps onto his shoulder. “Yes? Oh, my…”

Pairs of eyes gaze back at Tarrick in the dark. Fifteen, actually. Divided between five creatures approximately Tarrick’s size. Mountain scorlions. Five baby mountain scorlions, to be precise. They’re all piled up in a corner of the nest. Unmoving. Uncomfortable. All the babies stare in one direction. Tarrick’s gaze shifts towards the other side of the nest. Red crystals glow there. Sticking out of the nest’s rock. He frowns. What are those for? Where do they come from? What’s their purpose?

“What do you think those are for?” asks Prothea in his ear.

“I… I don’t know. But I don’t think the babies like them very much.”

Tarrick can’t stop himself. He leans over into the burnt red stone nest. One of the babies growl at him. He freezes. The baby mountain scorlion looks deep into Tarrick’s eyes. Tarrick doesn’t move an inch. He blinks. The baby mountain scorlion lies down in its nest. Satisfied. With one paw, Tarrick grasps one of the red crystals. It’s… warm. It doesn’t burn. But it’s warm. Tarrick breaks it clean off the side of the nest. Energy flows inside the crystal. Goosebumps bloom on Tarrick’s arm. He almost drops the crystal. He holds onto it. And smiles.

“You don’t like this, don’t you?”

One of the baby mountain scorlions shakes its head. As if to say “no”.

“Is that what’s been making your Mama angry?

Tarrick puts the crystal in his bag. Soon, the others follow. After the last crystal is in Tarrick’s bag and he closes it shut, the baby mountain scorlions jump up and down. One chirps happily. Another walks up to Tarrick and sniffs at him. Tarrick doesn’t move an inch. The baby mountain scorlion chirps again. It’s… a nice sound to hear. High-pitched. Different. Now that Tarrick is closer, he can have a good look at it. That thing is… kind of cute, really. For a beast with the face of a predator and deadly mandibles sticking out of its cheeks. It’s cute.

“Hey… hi. My name’s Tarrick. This is Prothea. What’s yours?”

The baby mountain scorlion opens its mouth. Tarrick wants to run. Scream. Anything. He can’t. Fear roots him to the spot. But the mountain scorlion doesn’t eat him. It licks him. An enormous rugged tongue licks his entire face up to his ears. Tarrick groans in disgust. He wipes at his face. He’s going to remember the feel of mountain scorlion saliva for a long, long time.

“What was that for? Ah… I see. You’re welcome. ”

The mountain scorlion grins at him. It laughs. Hi, hi, hi, hi, hi! At least, that’s what Tarrick thinks is what a mountain scorlion’s laugh feels like. Prothea doubles over laughing.

“You should see your face!”

“Har, har. Very funny, huh?”

The other four baby mountain scorlions lean in against the side of the nest, looking at Tarrick with curiosity shining in their big eyes. Tarrick pats one between its many rows of eyes. It chrips again. Happily. Tarrick chuckles. They’re really, really cute.

Someone screams. A roar shakes the Growing Rock.

Isolniel. And Mama Mountain Scorlion.

“Quick!” hisses Prothea in his ear. “We have to help her!”

Tarrick and Prothea run outside the cave. Grandma’s at the brand new wall Mama Mountain Scorlion created a few minutes earlier. She’s walked up there, but hasn’t moved since. Tarrick lifts his thumb at her. Everything will be fine. Tarrick looks up. Isolniel still holds on for dear life. She’s screaming constantly now. For good reasons. Mama Mountain Scorlion is almost there. A gigantic mouth full of teeth opens up. Isolniel’s scream climbs an octave. If that’s even possible. Tarrick bites his lip. He doesn’t have much time. He takes one of the red crystals out of his bag and lifts it in the air.

He yells:

“Hey! Mama Mountain Scorlion! Down here! Hello! I’m right here!”

“TARRICK!” comes Grandma’s call. “What do you think you’re doing?!”

A sun’s ray catches onto his crystal. Making it glow. It hums with energy. A beam of reflected light hits Mama Mountain Scorlion right in the eye. She roars. Great. Now she’s spotted him. Tarrick waves his arm around. Her eyes follow the red crystal. Tarrick starts to walk backwards. Towards the edge of the canyon. Mama Mountain Scorlion climbs back down, Isolniel completely forgotten. She climbs down way faster than when she climbed up. She’s on the ground a minute or so later. Mama Mountain Scorlion stops a few steps away from Tarrick. Her entire body blocks out the sun. Tarrick gulps. He swallows down his fear and stands his ground.

“Look,” he says. “I think I know why you’ve been so aggressive. All you want is to keep your babies safe. You’re a mom. I get that. And this crystal… it hurt them, didn’t it? Your babies? It made them uncomfortable and that made you angry. Now… you don’t have to worry about them. You’re free.”

Tarrick puts the crystal back into his bag. He closes it. Immediately, Mama Mountain Scorlion relaxes. Her body slumps down in relief. With a newfound spring in her step, she walks towards the opening of the cave. She squeezes between the stalagmites and disappears into her lair. Tarrick smiles. He looks up at Isolniel, who’s staring at him from her perch on the Growing Rock.

“It’s okay, Isolniel!” he shouts, two paws forming a cone around his snout. “Come down!”

She has climbed back down a few minutes later.

“You did it,” she says as soon as her feet hit the ground. “You calmed her down.”

“I did.”

“Those glowing crystals… where did you find them?”

“In her lair. In her babies’ nest.”

“Ah!” Isolniel smacks her forehead with her palm. “A mom! I should’ve seen it coming.”

“Congratulations, fluffy pie!” Tarrick and Isolniel turn towards Grandma. She’s walking towards them. One of her paws curls around Tarrick’s shoulder. “You did a good thing. Thank you. Now, can I take a look at those crystals? Maybe… oh.”

“What?”

Tarrick turns around. Mama Mountain Scorlion is walking out of her lair. Boom, boom, boom, boom. A shadow spreads over all three of them and way beyond. She cocks her head to the side.

“Oh,” says Tarrick. “Hello.”

A giant paw reaches out. With one claw, she hoists Tarrick and Prothea, sitting on his shoulder, up onto her head. Grandma and Isolniel are with him soon enough.

“What is she doing?” asks Tarrick.

Grandma’s eye twinkles. “I think that’s her way of saying ‘thank you’.”

A roar makes the air around them shake. Mama Mountain Scorlion slams both her paws on the ground. A wall shoots out from under the mountain scorlion, propulsing them towards the sky. Wind whips at Tarrick’s face. He holds onto a tuft of fur. Soon, the wind recedes and he opens his eyes. He gasps. They’re as high as the Growing Rock. The view is magnificent. All blue skies and orange and red and yellow walls. Upon the horizon, the rock forms an arcade.

“That’s Yeagsant,” says Grandma, pointing at the arcade. “We’ll go there. Sometime.”

“Right.”

“I wonder why she didn’t do this when it tried to get at Isolniel,” says Grandma.

“Don’t give her any ideas! I’d be dead if she’d done it.”

Tarrick shrugs. “She wasn’t thinking clearly because of her rage I guess.”

Tarrick doesn’t really care about hypothetical questions right this moment. He closes his eyes, enjoying the wind in his fur and the sun on his skin. He could stay up here forever, he bets. Of course, they’ll have to come down eventually. He has a story to chronicle, after all.

“You guys know what?”

They all turn towards Isolniel.

“What?”

She puts her fists on her hips. “This is pretty nice, but I prefer climbing on my own!”

They all burst out laughing.