《Conscious, Conscientious》28. Gibblezgorv
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Deon followed Skrili along Conscious City’s walkway. They had cleared about half of the vibrant and circular pathway, so now Deon could see The Phoenix in the distance across the large hole in the center of the floor.
The whole time, Skrili had simply walked wordlessly, looking around a bit. They had already passed by countless people, but she made no attempt to approach anybody and ask if they would be interested in buying Kotono Inoue’s signature. Deon was confused.
“Hey um, shouldn’t we be trying to sell that thing?” he finally asked.
“I am,” said Skrili as she continued to lead him. “You have to look for the right situation.”
They remained walking, and Skrili kept paying no mind to those she passed by. Soon Deon couldn’t take it anymore.
“I don’t think you get the concept of selling things,” Deon announced.
“Oh? And what is that concept?” questioned Skrili, unimpressed.
“This,” said Deon. He stopped walking. “HEY EVERYBODY!!!” He bellowed to the city street. Many people turned to face him. “WE HAVE KOTONO INOUE’S REAL SIGNATURE OVER HERE, AND—”
Suddenly, the walkway erupted into chaos. People from all directions darted at Deon and Skrili, as if the two of them were Kotono Inoue and Hiroko Hamasaki. They were all screaming with excitement, obviously wishing to behold their beloved celebrity’s signature.
“See?” Deon said to Skrili as the crowd was closing in. “I bet these people are willing to pay some big money to—”
“Run,” said Skrili.
“What?”
“RUN!”
Skrili grabbed Deon’s arm and darted away from the crowd. Struggling to keep up with Skrili’s intense speed, Deon looked back to see what the problem was. The people seemed more like an angry mob than a group of potential buyers—they were charging after Skrili and Deon clamorously, pushing each other and struggling to get to the front of the rushing crowd.
“Give me that signature!!!” one man shouted.
“No! Give it to me!” cried a woman. “I’ve been trying forty-five years to get her signature! FORTY-FIVE YEARS!!!”
“But she’s only twenty-two! That makes no sense!” a young man pointed out.
“GET BACK HERE, YOU VERMIN!!!” roared an old man.
“Skrili, run faster!” Deon shrieked, terrified for their lives. They raced along the street as the crowd followed closely behind.
~
Deon and Skrili sat slumped against a brick wall, panting heavily. They were in a thin alley between two stores. Deon cautiously peaked outside the alley to see if the coast was clear.
“I think we lost them,” he said.
“We wouldn’t have found them in the first place if you weren’t an imbecile,” Skrili muttered.
“Well how was I supposed to know they’d rush at us like a bunch of rabid animals?!” responded Deon defensively.
“I told you: the people here love Kotono Inoue and Hiroko Hamasaki. They’ll do pretty much anything to get one of their signatures,” Skrili explained. “But not everybody’s going to have two-hundred scale cards they can just spend at a moment’s notice. That’s why you need to wait for the right situation.” With that, Skrili stood back to her feet. “I’ll be back soon. We don’t have time for any more problems, so stay here.”
Deon was about to protest, but before he could say anything, Skrili left.
After a few seconds of solitude, Deon chuckled to himself. She always acts like she knows so much more than me, he thought. Just wait, Skrili. There’s no way you’re always right.
~
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A few minutes later, Skrili walked back into the alleyway with no apparent emotion. “Come on,” she said to Deon.
“Did you get two-hundred scale cards?” Deon asked her curiously.
“No. Come on,” Skrili answered.
Deon smirked. He felt he should be upset they couldn’t rent a dragon, but he was currently enjoying the fact that Skrili had to eat her words for once. Deon stood and joined Skrili in the main walkway. “So what’s the plan now?” he wondered.
“To head to the dragon rental place,” said Skrili.
“Wait—but—I thought we didn’t get the money.”
“We didn’t get two-hundred scale cards for it,” Skrili told him. “We got two-thousand.”
“WHAT?! HOW?!” Deon exclaimed.
“I found a couple of rich men outside of a high-class restaurant. The bidding ended at two-thousand,” Skrili informed him, her expression still completely blank. “Now we have some money to live off of for a while.”
Deon stared at her, flabbergasted. Not only did she make an absurd sum of money in under fifteen minutes, but she was so nonchalant about it, as if her talent was nothing special.
“What?” wondered Skrili.
“You’re…you’re just weird.”
Skrili remained emotionless, as if Deon’s statement didn’t compute. “Oh,” she said plainly. Then she silently began to lead the way along the street.
Deon followed. She’s so weird…he thought with a smile.
~
After a few minutes of walking, Skrili and Deon approached what was evidently the end of Conscious City. They had used Skrili’s levitation bracelet to ascend back to the top floor, and before them was an arched brick opening, parallel to the entrance Deon and Skrili had come in from. Looking back, Deon briefly noticed how far they traveled, as the gateway back to No Man’s Land appeared very small and far away.
Beyond the arch they were nearing, Deon observed that the cobblestone road turned from tan to gray, and was surrounded by dark grass. He couldn’t see much else, since the remaining buildings and the archway stood in his view.
As it turned out, Deon realized they didn’t have to leave the city to rent a dragon. The final store just to the right of the archway read “Fantasy Country Official Dragon Rental System” in glowing light blue letters. The building was surprisingly small for a place that was supposed to hold numerous dragons. In fact, it didn’t look big enough to even contain a single one.
The consciousness duo entered the tiny rental building. It was very clean and neat on the inside, with a wooden floor and light blue walls. Various products were posted throughout the store: accessories like gloves, saddles, and specialized riding cloaks.
A desk was near the back wall, and behind it sat a short female employee. She was dressed in one of these special cloaks, which were made of some sort of tough leathery texture, probably to fight the harsh winds of flying. The cloak was navy blue and had the dragon rental store’s logo on the front.
“Hello,” the employee greeted pleasantly as Skrili and Deon walked up the desk. “What can I help you with?”
“We’d like to rent a dragon for a one-way trip,” Skrili told her.
“Sure thing! How many days will this trip be?” asked the employee.
“Just one.”
“Okay, let me see what I have…” the woman said. She opened a large book that rested before her on the desk. It appeared ancient. To Deon’s surprise, as she flipped through the pages, a three-dimensional projection of a dragon appeared on each page. Beside it, various statistics were listed in floating text. Eventually, the employee stopped at a page towards the end. The book projected an image of a thin, mint green dragon.
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The woman paused to double-check the information floating above the page. “Alright, it looks like we do have one dragon that doesn’t have any appointments today,” she observed. “He’s an old guy, though. How long will you be travelling for?”
“I’m not sure. We’re going to the nearest mainland registration center outside the city,” answered Skrili.
“Oh, yeah, that’s about four hours. He should be fine then,” the employee decided with a confident nod. “If you’re all set, that’ll be two-hundred and three scale cards.”
Skrili retrieved their money from her bag, counted the proper amount, and handed it to the worker.
The woman stored the money away. Then she stood from her chair and exited the desk. “I think you guys will like this dragon. He’s such a sweetheart,” she shared. “Come with me.”
As she spoke, an opening materialized in the wall. It led outside, to what appeared to be a field. Deon wondered if this trick had been done using imagining, but he dismissed that thought, since Imaginers can’t wipe real objects from existence. He figured it was another use of Fantasy Country’s magic, like Skrili’s levitation bracelet and the employee’s book.
Deon and Skrili followed the woman through the opening and into the outdoors. They now stood in a vast yard at the top of a tall hill, marked by a short wooden fence. Within it, four dragons stood around with saddles on their backs. Three of them were muscular, colorful, and majestic, each standing taller than the Conscious City buildings on all fours.
A fourth dragon stood at the far right corner of the yard, facing outward. This was the one the employee showed them in the book: he was a soft mint green and thin, unlike his tougher, younger peers. The spikes that ran down the center of his head, back and tail were a faded white and were worn-down to a harmless, round shape. While the other dragons’ tails were constantly raised above the ground, his rested limp in the grass. Even his leather saddle seemed rather aged.
This mint dragon appeared to be gazing over the hilly horizon, before him waited miles and miles of dark green plains and a clear, blue sky.
“Um…not to question you guys, but how is this tiny fence supposed to hold these huge dragons? They can just walk over it,” Deon commented. “Wait—I get it: there’s an invisible wall or something, isn’t there?”
The employee let out a good-natured laugh. “I can tell you’re not from Fantasy Country. No, our dragons come here on their own accord. This is their job,” she explained to him. “Gibblezgorv!” she called to the old dragon.
Gibblezgorv turned to see the worker. Noticing Deon and Skrili, he leapt into the air. The dragon spread his flimsy-looking wings and flapped his way over. When he was before them, Gibblezgorv flopped onto the grass with a grunt, causing the ground to shake.
The dragon had round, yellow eyes with wrinkles underneath that gave the impression he spent many years smiling. Every time they blinked his eyes fully closed, as if someone was squirting water them. Gibblezgorv’s snout was long, and at the end of it he had many lengthy, gray whiskers that dangled down on either side like a moustache. He emitted a very warm and welcoming presence as he stood before them.
“This is Gibblezgorv,” the woman introduced.
“This is so cool! I can’t believe I get to ride one of these!” Deon exclaimed. He reached over and pet Gibblezgorv’s snout. “Hey, buddy, how are you?” he asked.
“I’m quite well, young lad, but to be honest I’m wondering just why you’re petting and talking to me like some sort of domestic pet,” Gibblezgorv answered. He had a hoarse but friendly old voice.
Deon was taken aback. He immediately stopped petting Gibblezgorv. “Oh…uh…sorry,” he said, blushing. “I thought...”
Gibblezgorv and the employee laughed lightheartedly, and Skrili cracked a half smile.
“Not to worry, boy! Don’t be embarrassed,” Gibblezgorv assured.
“So Gibblezgorv,” began the worker, “These two would like a one-way, one day trip. They’ll provide the details, and just make sure you run through our policies with them. You remember them, right?”
“Of course, my dear!” responded Gibblezgorv. He looked at Deon and Skrili. “This little one makes me laugh, making sure I know the policies. She’s been alive for two or three decades. I’ve been doing this for almost fifty decades. I guess it’s just a part of getting old…” He gazed into the sky with pretense self-pity.
“Oh Gibble, you’ve still got a few hundred years left in you,” the woman told him.
“I’m only teasing, dear. I’ll take care of these two. Hurry along and make sure nobody’s looking for you in the store,” Gibblezgorv suggested gently.
The employee nodded with a smile and headed back to the building.
“Well,” said Gibblezgorv, “You’ve heard my name. What may I call you two?”
Skrili introduced them politely. She reached into her travel bag and pulled out her TeamTrack, pressing its side button twice. Instantly, it projected a hologram of the Multiverse map. She slid her fingers on the screen to zoom in on Fantasy Country. “We would like to fly to the nearest registration center outside Conscious City,” Skrili told Gibblezgorv.
“Ah, a TeamTrack,” the dragon noted enthusiastically. “You young ones are on the quest of a Consciousness Team!”
Skrili nodded.
“How exciting…Smart of you to avoid the line of the Conscious City one,” Gibblezgorv commented as he began to study the map. “Ah yes, I know where the closest one is: Crooked Plateau, just by the Mainland Desert. I can get you there in under four hours.”
“Perfect,” said Skrili. “Thank you.”
“No, my dear, thank you for giving me a good trip. They’ve mostly been assigning me short, five minute errands and the like these days. It’s rare that I get to do a longer trip, with all of these younger dragons coming in to cover them,” Gibblezgorv explained. “But enough of my ramblings; shall we get going?”
Deon and Skrili nodded.
Gibblezgorv lay down onto his stomach, so that Deon and Skrili could reach his saddle. Skrili walked over and climbed on gracefully. She grasped the round handle at the front of the saddle. Deon followed, climbing up Gibblezgorv’s smooth scales and hoisting himself into the saddle behind Skrili. He could feel the immense strength and sturdiness of the dragon underneath him—it was both reassuring and intimidating.
“While you’re getting comfortable, allow me to go over our policies,” Gibblezgorv told them. “These days the company has us memorize this long-winded, repetitive list, but I’m afraid I’ll bore you to sleep. Instead, here’s the short version. One: remain sitting in the saddle at all times during the flight, unless I tell you otherwise. Two: follow all the directions I give you. And three: enjoy the ride! If you can handle those three rules, we’ll have a great flight.”
“Understood,” answered Skrili.
“Got it,” affirmed Deon, but something seemed missing. He couldn’t find another handle like the one Skrili was using. “What exactly do I hold on to?” he asked.
“Me,” Skrili said.
“And hold on tight, unless you plan on skydiving!” added Gibblezgorv.
“Oh…alright,” muttered Deon. He looked at Skrili’s back. Figuring she’d launch him off the dragon if he got too close, he barely placed his hands on her waist. “I’m ready, I guess.”
“Okay, like I said, hold on tight!” Gibblezgorv exclaimed. “We’re off!” He spread his wings out fully, leaned lower than he already was, and with a powerful push, launched into the air.
They ascended at an immense speed. The wind shot against Deon ruthlessly, and was more thunderous than any wind he had ever heard. His stomach sunk as he felt himself losing his balance. Panicking, Deon slammed his eyes shut, leaned forward, and held onto Skrili with all of his strength.
Eventually, their ascent stopped. Deon could now hear the slow, rhythmic flapping of Gibblezgorv’s wings. He opened his eyes to witness an amazing view: they were now high in the sky. Deon could see dark green hills for miles, and the silhouettes of mountains in the distance. Clouds were sparse, but the ones he noticed floated not too far beneath Gibblezgorv’s feet. They appeared soft and full enough to jump on as they passed by.
He also saw numerous other dragons transporting people across this immense terrain. The colorful, moon-like “worlds” he had first witnessed in Conscious City still appeared just as distant from them as before.
Then Deon’s focus on the view was interrupted when he detected an unusual sound and feeling. He could hear someone laughing, and he would have doubted it was Skrili if he couldn’t feel her shaking.
Skrili was giggling from the rush of their ascension. As opposed to Deon’s terrified reaction, hers was pure amusement. Deon almost didn’t recognize her voice—she sounded so much more lively and joyful than he was used to.
“It sounds like somebody’s having fun!” Gibblezgorv commented. “Is my friend Deon still up there?”
“Yeah…” Deon responded woozily. Finally, his heartbeat was beginning to slow down. Then he realized how closely he was holding Skrili—he could feel her laughing voice vibrate against him. Blushing, Deon quickly put some space between them again.
“Good! Well, keep holding on!” Gibblezgorv instructed.
With that, he darted forward, speeding up very rapidly. Deon felt the wind and inertia pushing him back, so he immediately hugged Skrili again. The sinking feeling returned to his stomach, and at the same time he could feel Skrili’s laughter increase again. Deon tried to see where they were going, but Skrili’s hair flew around wildly, covering his face.
After about half a minute, the wind died down. Then it completely stopped, yet Gibblezgorv was still moving across the sky. In fact, he was traveling faster than Deon had ever comprehended possible. The surface far beneath them looked as if it were spinning.
“Sorry, sometimes I forget to use my windshield!” Gibblezgorv apologized. “The magicians invented it ages ago, but I’m not used to trips where I have to fly fast enough to need it! At any rate, now you two can relax and chit-chat.”
Deon was grateful for Gibblezgorv’s convenient little trick. He still had to hold on to Skrili for balance, but at least now her hair wasn’t slapping him.
Skrili’s laughter had finally faded. She looked to the side and beheld the ever-changing view. Now Deon could see her face: she was smiling spiritedly as she looked around with equally delighted eyes. It was a pretty expression, and it reminded him of the destroyed photo of her with her little brother. This was practically a different Skrili, or at least another side of her he hadn’t yet experienced.
“I take it you like dragon rides,” Deon commented.
“Yeah,” Skrili said with a nod, still smiling. “I’ve never done this before.”
Skrili’s smile was contagious, so Deon found himself mirroring it. “Yeah…this is pretty wild.”
Their rapid flight across the plains of Fantasy Country continued on. Every several minutes, another dragon would cross their path or fly by, some with passengers and some without. Gibblezgorv would often wave to them in passing.
They also noticed occasional lakes and rivers amidst the plains. Along these, Deon sometimes caught glimpses of unfamiliar creatures—some birdlike, others furry and large. But due to Gibblezgorv’s elevation and speed, it was difficult to see any details.
When Deon noticed any curious animals, he pointed them out to Skrili. She often responded with great curiosity, and eventually, she started pointing out creatures to Deon.
“I think that one’s a whatizit,” Skrili said, after they spotted a spec of rainbow fur in a distant tree branch.
“A ‘whatizit?’ What is it?” Deon asked, squinting to see.
“Nobody really knows what it is,” explained Skrili with a shrug. “That’s why they call it a whatizit.”
“You made that up.”
“I’m dead serious,” Skrili insisted.
“Nope. You definitely made that up.”
Skrili laughed and continued to deny his accusation.
While her sudden enthusiasm had initially surprised Deon, he quickly switched to soaking it all up. Finally, she seemed to be loosening up a bit. Soon enough, he found himself just as intrigued by this new side of Skrili as the new world around him.
Just as Deon was beginning to wonder how close they were to the registration center, he and Skrili noticed the terrain far below beginning to change dramatically. They had been over thick forests and rivers for hours, but now trees were becoming sparser. Next the rivers grew thin, until soon there was no water in sight. Even the grass had died down to occasional, mostly-dead patches.
“It appears my memory hasn’t failed me yet!” Gibblezgorv said. “We’re near our destination!”
Soon they began steadily dropping in altitude. Over the horizon, Deon noticed a series of square, reddish plateaus, with buildings covering many of them. The centermost one stood tallest, but its surface was oddly inconsistent and sloped in random directions. The gray buildings atop it were lopsided, and Deon wondered how they hadn’t fallen over.
“There it is: Crooked Plateau,” announced Gibblezgorv. “Not the prettiest of towns, mind you, but it hosts the registration center you’re looking for!”
As Gibblezgorv grew close, he began to circle the plateau. Deon noticed this place was much less populated than Conscious City. Only a few people walked the streets, and Gibblezgorv was the only dragon in sight.
“Ever heard of this place?” Deon asked Skrili.
“Not until today, actually,” she said. “This will be a new experience for me, too.” She paused. “For once, you won’t be the only clueless one.”
“Rude!” Deon exclaimed.
Skrili let out a small laugh, so Deon joined in.
They were slowing towards a round surface resembling the landing platforms in Conscious City.
“Hey,” started Deon.
“Mm?”
“Well…I think we’re gonna be a great team,” he said. “I can’t wait to do this with you.”
Skrili turned to look at him. But as soon as their eyes met, her smile retreated. She abruptly turned back around.
“Me too,” she uttered in the same detached tone as before.
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