“Ok!” The creature put his hand down without a single second’s hesitation. “Friend knows what’s best for friend.” He scuttled over to retrieve the new scroll. There was a distinct lack of malice in the creatures movements, bringing to mind infant animals taking their first tentative steps.
“My home!” Devan exclaimed excitedly. “Many friends come visit me, Dolphus is the latest. Dolphus will write yes? Devan likes when friends write.” He looked around at all the stools. “Some friends not write for long time, Devan hopes they write soon.” Devan opened the scroll, and smiled deeply at what he read.
Here the King walks softly, burdened with immense sorrow. He has lost his parents he has never known his home. I walk alongside him, we just buried my love 3 days past. A daemon of shadow took her, it extinguished her light. She died a slow death carried in the young kings arms.
I weep for that, we were supposed to protect him, yet in the days since our identity has been revealed he has been the protector of us. We have failed, I try to call my light, but I am clearly unworthy. Being mortal is so cold, so cold. I hope our King can make it himself, his throne has been vacant too long. I only worry of timing, the prophecy states, an old wrong must be righted before a new King can claim the throne. I’m so cold.
“Devan’s friends so creative.” He said in absolute delight. “Here read if you want.” He then offered the parchment to Dolphus.
Mariner stopped walking, sitting in the murk at the bottom of the ocean he noticed a leather strap. Bending yet again he pulls it up to uncover his bag of medicines. At last, this day is looking up. He thinks to himself as he continues back towards the ship.
Dolphus breathed out his relief at Devan’s apparent acceptance of the situation. In spite of the creature’s frank naivety, he was having immense difficulty imagining that an intelligent entity could exist which did not have an angle of some sort. Everyone was out to get something, after all.
The dragon’s words came to mind.
Dolphus swallowed, looking back at the scroll in his hand. Who knows how long ago this message had been sent. If this individual mentioned was not Tharwin, the person responsible could have died hundreds of years ago. Was death so alien a concept to this creature that it never crossed his mind?
If only I could be so lucky.
Stop. He frowned. I need to not be left alone with my brain for very long.
Gently, Dolphus took the paper from Devan, setting the first one aside. It didn’t take very long for his eyes to start glowing, reading over the paper multiple times as quickly as he could.
Dolphus practically devoured each word like a delicacy. The King… Vacant throne… A new King…
…And then there were the parts that hit a little too close to home. Lost parents, immense sorrow, and literally anything else he could twist and contort in his mind to fit his own circumstance he did so. He definitely didn’t have a guilt complex or anything, nope.
“Who wrote this?” Dolphus looked back towards Devan, his eyes sparkling.
“Winged Friend! Gracten!” Devan pointed at the stool which it had come from. It was the only one paired right beside another stool. “Gracten came by 20 years ago. Good friend, always writes. Always asks me to send copy along to metal friend!” Devan holds out his hand for the parchment. “Need make copy now.”
With his other hand he starts to gather up a piece of fresh parchment and an inkwell. “Metal friend always happy to hear Winged Friend’s stories!”
Dolphus offered the paper forward as minimally as he could, his mouth agape yet again. Perhaps he should consider getting that fixed at some point. Regardless, the paper was taken from his loose grip, freeing his hand to dig into his hair once more as he stared in shock at the opposite side of the room.
It’s not just Hethila.
There’s more.
…Metal Friend?
A terrible cloud began to form in Dolphus’ mind. A horrifying revelation - although still only a vague suspicion, but carrying such tremendous implications that it elevated it from a rather unlikely circumstance to a horrifying intrigue, devised by the head of the hearthtemple, for some unknown end. To remove any suspicion of bias? With the loyal hand of Mariner to guide, and to prod, and in so doing just happen upon the intended path?
“Who…” Dolphus brought the room back into focus with a couple forceful blinks, casting his eyes about until they finally landed on Devan. “Who is… Metal friend?”
Devan, who had immediately started writing out two seperate copies of the letter looked up. “Metal friend is best friend, visits me twice as often as others. Always wears metal in front of face, sometimes gold, sometimes black. Always doing funny thing with voice. Uses different one for different colours.” Devan finished his copies, and threw them on two different stools.
As the letters disappeared with a pop Devan turned back to Dolphus and added. “When metal friend was wearing black, he asked Devan for seperate copy to different location. Metal Friend good friend, Devan happy to help good friend.”
Devan’s stomach growled. “Devan hungry, friend hungry? Devan has lots of tasty fruit.”
…Doesn’t help. Dolphus sighed, looking down at his hand briefly. The red was starting to come out of it; concerning, since the only things he had really touched were his wing and his hair. I don’t have enough info to go off of to come to any kind of conclusion. What’s all this supposed to mean? Did I just find the King, or did I just find…
…What DID I just find?
Dolphus didn’t look away from his hand. There was too little to go off of, but also the implication that, just under the surface, was the answer to not only this little mystery but a whole plethora of others… Including ones he may not want to know.
Perhaps I should just drop the subject for now. So I can sleep at night. Or, at the least, so I don’t have anything else to obsess over. Like that winged friend Gracten; is he like Hethila? Or is she different? Is there any rhyme or reason for why either of them have wings? Were they both experimented on, maybe part of some wicked order trying to make more of these horrible things? Do they work for them, or what? And why would-
“Huh?” Dolphus jolted slightly, looking around for where in the world Devan ended up (he had not moved since Dolphus looked last). “Oh, uh, n-”
There was a loud grumbling noise.
“…Yes.” Dolphus clutched the wound on his side, looking away shamefully. Is it possible to keep functioning if I were to cut my stomach out? Because I might just take that opportunity to keep this from happening over and over again.
Devan scuttled away to the wardrobe, opening it he removed a wooden bowl full of fruit. He brought this back over to Dolphus. “Devan only eat fruit, good thing it very tasty, dragon fire ash, makes best fertilizer.” Devan offers Dolphus the fruit. They all appeared to be perfectly ripe, and a touch larger than what they would be in Emberhold.
“Devan thinks he grows best fruit in world, everyone comes far for Devan’s fruit. Devan meets many friends this way. Is this why Dolphus came?” Devan stopped talking after this, he was looking at the pair of stools in the corner with something like concern on his face.
Dolphus tried not to actually eat any, he really did.
But after not having any food since before he started on this crazy voyage, he was so famished that it was actually a good thing that one of his arms was a wing, since it forced him to not horde everything in the bowl. He selected a pear and paused just long enough to notice it didn’t look nearly as small and underdeveloped as the ones he had consumed in the past.
And then he took an absolutely massive bite out of it.
Dolphus wanted to say Yes, absolutely yes but having his mouth full made that very inconvenient. It took a good twenty seconds before he was able to swallow, deciding in that time that a creature who could so easily dig at his past might also be able to discern the truth of the matter and get offended if he didn’t explain himself properly.
“I came looking for a King,” He said, taking a second to breathe. “So far I haven’t-”
He froze. The geniality of the little imp had defied all cares and concerns with the world so resolutely that this sudden expression of anything other than youthful enthusiasm contrasted quite noticeably with the precedent set before. It was enough to set Dolphus sharply on edge.
“…You okay?” He swallowed once more to ensure he could actually speak properly.
“Gracten visited me, on his way north. He had another with him, another Winged one. She hasn’t written anything for quite some time, their letters used to come together. Ever since Gracten’s last letter, I’ve been thinking. I see lots of stories. I think hers might be done now.” The creature sounded sombre. “I hope it was a happy end. I wish all my friends could have happy ends to their stories”
Then he seemed to shake himself off. “King you say? Sounds like a good story. Will you tell me of this story?” His tone had rebounded back to it’s usual upbeat rhythm almost immediately.
He blinked at Dolphus, he could see many emotions there. Which puzzled him, he understood sadness, but sadness was temporary, put in a story to make the good seem all the better. Wasn’t it? The boy was as much an enigma to Devan as Devan was to him. Although likely for entirely different reasons.
Devan couldn’t comprehend someone who’d been through so much misery, with so little good. It made him sad, he wanted to fix, but he’d been explicitly told not to.
Dolphus’ face fell. So this was how the strange Devan fellow processed death, or at least, this was how his little world explained it. In a way, I suppose that’s a more graceful approach than death itself. If the hereafter the old cartographer spoke of is attainable, I suppose most people would find it a fitting end to their own personal stories.
But…
Dolphus shook his head slightly to force the thought out of his mind. The last thing he needed was to start reminiscing about Her again, much less right in the middle of all this. But, in spite of his best… well more like half-hearted efforts, it wasn’t for long.
Dolphus could feel the brush of every feather in the peculiar avian skin upon his alien arm, forced to coexist with the bizarre fusion of his own. Despite his valiant and definitely not minimal efforts to avoid thinking of her, his fingers ached with the memory of a pulse gone dry, twitching ever so slightly against the skin of the pear.
“…Me too.”
Dolphus’ tired mind took a second to catch back up to what was happening, bring his focus away from the area where wall and floor met on the opposite side of the room in a dizzy trance an back to the small creature looking up with anticipation for this story about a King. “Uh, I uh, yeah, sure.” He cleared his throat, trying to think of ways to preface what he was about to say in a way which didn’t shatter any glass ceilings this creature might be residing under.
“There is a um, land, not too far from here, where many of your friends might be from.” He paused, taking another bite of the pear. This is absolutely delicious. I don’t know how I’m ever going to eat hardtack after this. “For hundreds of years, it has had many Kings and Queens all ruling one after another, after each of their, um, stories had come to a close.”
He clenched his jaw for a moment. His natural instinct had been to motion to some invisible Kings and Queens in the room, and his wing began to move on the prospect. I have to stop doing that.
“Come the time of the last- most recent Queen, however, there was no heir apparent to the throne, and with no leader the people were… Confused and frightened.” Most of the story thus far had been taken from his very early tutelage, and he was quickly running out of pre-written things to say that he could tailor, such as removing On the brink of despair and replacing it with something much more paletteable, at least in his opinion. “So, uh, a guy that…”
No, don’t name his as Metal friend, because if you’re wrong - or even if you’re right - that’s going to come back to bite you big-time.
“…That could predict things, he uh, found the next thing. I mean King.” Dolphus took another bite of pear, thinking about how when he was fifteen he would have been enrolled in public speaking courses with the best tutors money could buy, and how that could really come in handy right now. “And then he hired a bunch of people to go find him, of which I am one.”
“That’s about all I know.” He brought the pear towards his mouth, but paused to clarify before taking another bite. “It’s not exactly my story.”
“You mean to say, the new King of Armada is of age?” Devan practically squealed. Or at least what could be equivalent to a squeal in his deep baritone voice. “This is indeed good story. Fire and Ice ancient rivalry! You must please write to me, I want hear story.”
Devan scuttled around excitedly, eventually he grabbed a notebook and a fancy quill. “Here, use this. I make seat for you. Ice first then fire to meet, a new twist!” Devan seemed beside himself. “I imagine you want to leave soon then.” He seemed just a touch put down by this. He went back towards Dolphus, offering the supplies he’d gathered. “Write on this paper, then hold it up and say ‘Devan’ and I will receive it.”
Mariner eventually reached the ship, and began to climb back aboard. He dumped the barrels he’d collected onto the deck, a few crew members leapt to stow them. Mariner wasn’t truely paying attention, he’d gone into his bag of medicines and retrieved a flask. Inside was the same medicine he’d given Dolphus, but in a higher concentration. Mariner drank deep, and immediately his head felt a little better. He decided to stumble below decks to sleep off his injury.
Mako emerged soon after , witnessing Mariner stumble off like a drunken oaf. He gave a sigh of ambient frustration, a long exhale of whatever was rattling around in his skull at the moment. Ok. What now? Mako thought. I have two things to do here, but only one of them is something I might be able to do myself, so…
He started off towards the wreck once more. Just see if I can find anyone? Wouldn’t they be dead by now? But what if they’re alive? I still have some bandages. . Mako reached the wreck, looking down for any tracks. If there is anything left.
“Uhh,” Dolphus quivered slightly, the enthusiasm once again catching him off-guard despite it happening frequently enough that he should have gotten used to it by now. “I- I guess? It sounds like you know more about it than I do.”
There wasn’t much pear left, and Dolphus finished it slowly while maintaining a concerned gaze on Devan, watching him hobble about and collect some stationery before explaining the way this system operated.
It sounds an awful lot like magic. B-But it’s probably not magic, it’s probably… just… Otherworldly, uh… Paper. Yeah. It’s not magic. It’s just, uhh… Some… kind of power, beyond this world, that isn’t magic. Like how that, that thing works, the, um…
“R-Right.” Dolphus accepted the writing materials from Devan, the quill in particular appealing to his more decadent tastes. “I’ll, uh, I’ll make sure to do that.”
Awkwardly, Dolphus held the notebook and quill and turned to the door.
His fingers could not find the strength to touch the knob.
Fix hurt.
That statement dug at the back of his mind, screaming out in protest of every action he took to leave, his straining muscles aching as they tried to push him just forward enough to officially leave. His hurt extended well beyond the superficial slash in his side; Devan’s puzzled glances told enough of a story there. But was he foolish to accept the potential to repair said harm, to prevent further risk of infection in his side? Or was he foolish for attempting to deny it, to potentially risk his life on the high seas, encountering who knows what kinds of risks might threaten?
“Would…” Dolphus showly turned from the door, his face trying desperately to push back the expression of shame it now bore, to fake a more earnest appeal, as his forefinger glided slowly across his body and tapped lightly at the stinging wound. “Would you … Fix … hurt?”
As did Karl, who had just turned, hearing the sound of the two dripping crewmates returning to the deck.
“Mako, have you seen Dolphus anywhere? Alexis sent me to find him, but no one seems to have seen him on board the ship yet. Do you know if he may be in his cabin?”
“You didn’t notice?” Mako rolled his eyes, walking towards the wreck.
“He fell overboard. That’s probably what she meant, to go look around the island, not wait around for him to,what? Descend from the heavens?!” Mako shouted,flinging his hands up to the sky dramatically.
“There’s a wreck over there, and i saw footprints.”
Mako pointed over to the half shell of a ship.
" I’m going to try and do my job, and track down whatever walking half-obliterated corpse walked through the forest. So, either follow, and try not to get in my way, or see what you can do to get help and try to put the ship back together."
“Of course not, all I saw was us getting hit by the biggest wave of the century, then next thing I know Alexis is shouting, Mariner’s making the most awful noises, everyone else is panicking, and our Caelin’s making a bonfire before getting chewed out by Alexis. You think I’m looking out for squid bait when no one seems to know what happened to half the ship?”
He turned, walking towards the gangplank.
“Maybe you have a reason to be so concerned, but let me remind you there was another person who went overboard. You think everyone’s so worried about him?”
Devan nods. He holds out his hand to touch Dolphus’ side. If Dolphus allows, when Devan’s fingers touched the wound it seemed to warm a bit. Then after a short time he lifted his fingers, the wound was completely closed. The damage repaired, even the memory of the wound seemed dulled a bit.
Devan looked up at Dolphus. “All fix. No more hurt. Friend need anything else?” He looked about his small house for anything he had to offer. He seemed to be coming up short.
Somehow, his recollection of the event grew visibly fuzzy until it seemed like details involved simply never happened. Where was the vivid sensation of the knife striking bone? The shock, the flash of pain that raced through his whole body, dropping him to the ground? It had been so clear before… All these things he knew had happened, and yet… Not only were the specifics growing faint, those visceral sensations he could so easily recall before, simply… Vanished.
I must be succumbing to my extreme and repeated head trauma. Before too long I might end up like Mako.
Oh-KAY, Dolphus. C’mon, that wasn’t very nice, regardless of its accuracy.
Hey! You can’t just cheat and insult him in your own correction. Devan’s staring at you, c’mon snap out of it.
Dolphus bit his lip for a moment.
…Oh, FINE. I suppose if he wanted to find that out and weaponize it against me, he had a million chances to do so before now. And, it might save some awkwardness with Mariner…
“There… There is…” Dolphus swallowed, his hand quivering slightly as he started moving the cape over his wing aside, terribly unsure if Devan was going to react poorly to it or if he somehow already knew and accepted it as fact. “…another hurt.” He could feel his knees touch together and had to mentally force them apart again.
As the wing slowly unfurled, Dolphus reeled it back in to tap the wound caused by his sword so, so long… Literally one day it was one day ago am I going to be okay? Oh come on we both know the answer to that is No. “If… If you could…”
Mako didn’t answer that question. Possibly because he had no answer, more likely that he just didn’t have enough tolerance at the time. He strode off, approaching the site of the wreck, looking for any tell-tale prints, of any sign of what direction. Ok mystery person, I hope you’re still breathing.
Devan Immediately reached out his hand to heal the second wound. His face was in total confusion. As he examined the wing he noticed how it seemingly grafted into the human upper arm. Every motion seemed natural. Eventually he couldn’t contain his curiosity.
“Friend only born with one wing?” Devan had never seen such a thing. The asymmetry of it astounded him. What was the point? Could the boy even fly with it? “Sorry,.being rude, just never met someone with wing there.”
Immediately in his head, Devan was now comparing Dolphus to his other winged friends, their wings were on their back, they weren’t patterned like that either. In fact, unless they were on fire they couldn’t be seen at all. Devan had seen them anyway, he could see lots of things. Still, this single winged boy posed a real mystery to him ,and he wasn’t used to mysteries. It intrigued him, and excited him. He almost forgot to take his hand away when he finished healing. Oops he thought as he realized. Hope I didn’t heal anything I wasn’t supposed to.
Devan looked back up at Dolphus, bewilderment clear on his face.
As Mako neared the end of the prints in the sand, he found tracking more difficult, without the odd mud patch revealing a large bootprint, it’d have been completely hopeless. Eventually however they led him to a clearing, which was full of footprints, judging by the depth of some of them, they were armoured.
