Ortai Legacy: Descent

7.3 - Grassland (L)

[Weylan, what's going on?] I asked.

[I cannot scan your surroundings while inside your graxi's Void.]

[What about me? Can't you sense my health or something?]

[Yes.]

[Well? What's it like?]

[Your health is at 92% and rising.]

[Did the sun injure me?]

[Most likely not.]

I waited for clarification that never came. [Why isn't my health at 100%?]

[An injury to your posterior lowered your health. How you acquired such an injury is unknown to me.]

[What about the sun?]

[The sun is a large ball of plasma which provides light and heat to the planet you are currently located on.] He sounded as annoyed as I felt.

Okay, how to put this in words he would actually dignify with a useful response... [I can't see well in the sunlight, and I feel feverish. Why is this?]

[Ah, a specific question.] His voice implied an eyeroll. [Sunlight activates arka, and you are made of solid arka. Due to Void Ortai being well-adapted to darkness, they have no natural protections against sunlight. I recommend using tinted glasses and sun salve.]

[That would've been nice to know before I came out here in the sun.] After sending him a mental glare, I switched to addressing Mar'kost. [I figured out what's wrong. Apparently-]

[I can hear Weylan unless he blocks me.]

[Oh. Right.] I felt a pang of embarrassment, which was exemplified by the fact that Raeve was staring at me. "What's up?"

She started. "N-nothing. Just admiring the- Duskfeather. She's a 'beaut, isn't she?" She waved past me at where the big green blob had been earlier.

With some squinting and eye-shielding, I managed to make out a massive scaly horse with dark green feathers in place of a mane and tail. Spines the length of my forearm grew from her shoulders. When she caught my eye, the spines spread out to reveal they were actually rib-like supports of scaly fans. She tentatively stepped closer and lowered her head. A forked tongue emerged from under her bit, tasting the air around me.

"Does she bite?" I murmured.

Mar'kost shook his head and patted her snout. "She's well-trained."

I tentatively held out a flat hand for her to smell.

Her rough tongue flicked over my slick crystal skin, and she froze. [Old one?]

I jumped. "You didn't say they could talk."

Mar'kost's feathers rose. "They usually can't."

"Wait, you can talk to drykons?" Raeve buzzed closer. "I thought only Ortai could do that." She gave Mar'kost a pointed look that could've meant anything from 'this girl is crazy' to 'I know she's not a shifter.'

"It's linked to her Polyglot Skill," Mar'kost offered.

"Is that so?"

I avoided Raeve's prying gaze and touched Duskfeather's snout again. [Can you understand me?]

[Yes, Old One!] She hopped from one cloven hoof to another, tail swishing excitedly.

[Why're you calling me 'Old One?']

She paused, blinked, and closed her shoulder fans. [You are Old One.]

I got the impression that she was referring to my species, not my age. [Do you know where any other Old Ones are?]