Ortai Legacy: Descent

8.1 - Drykon Ranch (L)

Eventually, the grass thinned and became manicured to a bit under knee-height. Without foliage obscuring the sun, everything became much harder to see. On a whim, I tried to see through Mar'kost's eyes like he'd done with mine before. There was a bit of resistance, but he let me through after a moment.

We approached a massive paddock where a herd of drykons that looked like Duskfeather were grazing. To the left were a dozen or more round pens of varying sizes, each with a lizard person running a drykon through their paces. Past them was a smaller paddock next to a stable. A road led from the stable into the thick grass at the edge of the property. Partway between the stable and the grass was a decent-sized house.

All in all, it was a fairly standard ranch—if you ignored the fact that the 'horses' were scaly creatures smart enough to hold a conversation.

[I'll talk to Cadmus about how he treats the drykons,] Mar'kost offered.

Despite how reverent Cadmus had acted when we met, I doubted he would make any changes based on my complaints alone. He'd already seen how unthreatening I was, and as far as he was concerned, he wasn't mistreating the drykons to begin with. If they'd been horses, I wouldn't have disagreed with him. They all looked fit and energetic, and despite Pretty Boy's annoyance earlier, he hadn't actually seemed afraid of Cadmus.

Maybe I was wrong. Maybe the drykons stayed here because they didn't fancy living like wild animals. The fences certainly weren't high enough to keep them from running away if they really wanted to. Besides, I already had enough to worry about right now. If the drykons actually needed a revolution, it could wait until after I'd protected the ship full of magic weapons from looters and rescued the other Earth-born Ortai.

As we wove between the round pens, a thundering boom made us jump. Clutching Mar'kost's fur, I stared through his eyes as he located the source of the noise.

Two pens over, a massive white and crimson bird drykon—maybe five feet tall at the shoulder—reared up with their wings spread and serpentine tail thrashing. Muzzled head posed like a striking cobra, the drykon let out another boom that resembled an exploding mortar.

A chirp drew my attention to a smaller bird drykon lying beside the larger one's manacled feet. The smaller one was entirely snow white except for a splash of red on their side—which looked more like blood than natural coloring.

[Those two are wild-caught Tundras.] Guilt colored Mar'kost's tone. [They were injured when Cadmus bought them, but they won't let us treat them.]

The larger Tundra drykon flapped their wings, and I saw a couple of lizard people hesitating to enter the pen. One of them had a rifle, and the other carried a bucket and a black bag.

[I want to talk to them.] I sensed Mar'kost's hesitation, so I added, [I'm not asking to get in the pen with them. Just bring me close enough that I can talk telepathically.]

He hesitantly moved toward the pen. [Even muzzled and chained, they could kill you. Don't move closer than I bring you.]

[Okay.] I reached out my mind to 'listen' to the drykons.

A low but somewhat feminine voice pierced my inner ear with much more clarity than the other drykons had. [Stay back, hunter! I'll tear you to pieces if you hurt one feather on my poor Frost.]

The smaller drykon—presumably the aforementioned Frost—sighed without lifting their head from the ground. [I believe they want to treat our injuries.] Their voice was somewhat ambiguous, but I got the feeling that they were male.

[If they drug us again, they could separate us. Who knows where we'd end up?] The big one looked down at him. [I'll be able to fly soon, and I'll get us out of here.]