Chaart Acrat 1 - The Flying Bride

Chapter 1

The noon sun was shining intensively and made the sleepy shia-ags withdraw into shadows of the trees. Owata was pouring water into the drinking trough, watching its glittering and letting her mind wander. Her stomach was aching. Seeing the sea would have calmed her down, but it was still three hours until the end of her duty. And after that, she'd have to go and groom herself.

The youngest one of the shia-ags had grown a lot since Owata had seen him the last time. He heard the voice of the spilling water, released his grip on the branch and started flying wobbly towards Owata. The guards of the flock raised their heads but stayed in the shade.

Owata surveyed the baby. A pale beak and short claws, skin still vaguely greenish. The little apple of the flock's eyes.

At the last moment she crouched behind the drinking trough as the baby swooped playfully at her. If he continued, she would have to pull out and hide in the storage hut until he would get enough. The baby was small enough that he could easily be flung away, but the adults could take that as a threat. Each of the saber-clawed lizards were guided by instinct to protect the baby, and even though they trusted the Fiaans, all the humans were eventually representatives of a foreign species and thus possibly enemies.

Owata heard loud voices coming from the sand road. She peered over the trough and gasped; there was a crowd of tall black-haired Tshers along with a couple of giggling Chend girls in sundresses arriving in the clearing. Owata groped her short thick hair and stood up, but suddenly she had to dodge the baby shia-ag who tried to peck her with his beak.

The Tshers headed to the shia-ags that were napping in the tree foliages. Leading the way was Siarme, apparently laughing to something that the Chends had said. The Chend girls had stayed at the edge of the clearing, looking hesitant.

"Should they feel like attacking, you couldn't flee fast enough even if you were on the other side of the village!" Owata heard Siarme tease.

Siarme had probably come to show his new riding lizard to the others. Tshers that were responsible for supervising normally had no shia-ags of their own, as they belonged to the hunters, but as the chief's son Siarme naturally got everything he wanted. Owata had happened to hear that last month Siarme had been given the fastest female of the flock, Tricame. Tricame had now settled herself on the top of a high teak tree, but she flew to Siarme at the moment he whistled to her.

The Tshers were admiring the shiny silver-blue shia-ag, but the Chends still refused to come closer. Owata recalled she was at work and hurried to take the water bucket into the storage hut.

"Oh, look how tiny!" she heard some of the Chends call out. She was filled with a sense of foreboding. She turned around quickly.

The little shia-ag was heading to the red-haired Chend who stretched out her hands.

"Watch out!" Owata shouted. "Don't touch it!"

The Chends stared at her, astonished. The Tshers, too, turned around to follow the situation. Siarme was looking at Owata, frowning. Had he already heard of the marriage? Did he recognize Owata?

Owata hesitated. Tshers sure knew the creatures they rode. Maybe the baby was old enough for humans to touch it.

She pondered a second too long.

The baby clutched the Chend's red hair with his claws. She shrieked and tried to pull him off - the flock awoke. Tricame who had been enjoying the adoration of the Tshers emitted a shrill scream and dashed toward the Chend.

"Lie down!" Owata yelled.

The Chend threw herself at the ground just as Tricame whished over her. The baby was frightened and let go of her hair, and Tricame caught him from the air.

The flock had woken up and was emitting high-pitched voices. Tricame headed to the shades of the trees with the baby, other shia-ags were flapping their wings.

The Tshers had freezed. The red-haired Chend was still lying on the ground.

"Get away of here, they're pissed off!" Owata told.

"I think you're the one who's uptight right now," one of the Tshers yelled and laughed.

Owata nearly lost her temper. "Are you hoping to get yourself killed? If you stay here, they may attack seriously, and none of us will survive!"

"What a rude worker you are. It's your job to take care that nothing like this happens! You should just tell them to calm down, since you understand them so well." Siarme walked closer and stopped right in front of Owata, so that she had to tilt her head backwards to see his face. "Or maybe you just don't know how to do your job?"

Owata turned her head away. "It's forbidden for anyone but attendants and hunters to come to the clearing. Please leave."

"I am the upcoming chief of this village!"

"Then please tell your friends to leave."

Siarme laughed. The Chends joined the laughter with giggling, though they clearly had missed the point of what was so funny.

"Okay, let's go and let her do her job in peace. We're clearly disturbing her." Siarme led the crowd away from the clearing as the shia-ags chuffed after them.