The Language Of The Trees/ An Evalyce Novel [#NaNoWriMo16]

Chapter 12: The Lion's Pride

Libernaath, Northern Argoth, 10000 ft above the Aeryth Ocean, Year of the Lion Claw, 1727 CE

    Ari suffered my inevitable scolding with amused patience, and allowed me my time to be angry. He'd been right though. Once settled into my work, the reconstruction had gone smoothly. I held Rykkyr's imprints from the start.

    Learning to work with them was a different story, and we were back to me studying, and Ari running missions with our new team. I did get to go on a few short ones, with Rykkyr accompanying Rogys. The Dashmari showed an aptitude for, and interest in, learning to be a gunner. Rogys' ship, the Kolobo, was equipped with twin ion cannon, but he travelled with no gunner, hadn't since an accident stole the life of his last.

    Winter settled over Libernaath, bringing with it high, frigid winds and snow that crusted to ice almost as soon as it touched down. Nights grew longer, turning roads and paths ever more treacherous. Salt and scraper carts were daily to be seen, out trying to make the streets safe for chokka and humans alike.

    I grew cranky with the demands of working with Rykkyr, and well sick of snow, and of ice that turned to slush on the salted thoroughfares. Rykkyr wasn't the problem. Turns out, he's a very patient man, and we got so we could anticipate one another well enough.

    No, the problem lay with me. I admit, I was sick of learning. I'd had a taste of what being out in the field was like, and I was a bit resentful of being left behind again. I missed Ari, too, when he was gone.  

    Today was my final day of training before the Solstice holiday, and I was looking forward to it. Ari was scheduled to return tomorrow, and we would have the holidays to ourselves. I was headed to the airship paddocks of the Academy now. Rykkyr had already returned to his lodgings. Though I had tried to get him to come home with me, he insisted he'd rather spend these holidays alone.

    "Evenin', Lady Maia." The soldier at the paddocks gate greeted me with easy familiarity. "Headed home for Solstice then?"

    "And so ready for it, Markwell! Will you be headed home soon too?"

    "Leavin' tomorrow, ny'della. Home to the wife and younglings.

    “You've a transport already arranged. Came in this afternoon, special for you."

    Markwell turned to the paddocks, where several captains sat around a table. Dull thuds against the wooden top suggested they played kessala.

    "Stetsson, your charge is here!" he yelled. One of the young men rose, laughing as his companions raucously teased him about being saved by my arrival. Markwell pointed me towards a small transport ship.

    "Will-o-wisp is the good Captain's ship."

    I thanked Markwell, wishing him blessed holidays, and headed towards the ship he’d pointed out. Captain Stetsson bowed slightly, fist to heart, at my approach.

    "Who sent you, Captain?"

    "Ah, well, I'm to keep that a secret for the time being. Orders, ny'della," Stetsson replied.

    "I don't suppose you can tell me where we are going," I asked, scowling.

    "Yethe, ny'della. I can't tell you that either."

    "What can you tell me, Captain?" My voice had grown sharper, and the Captain fidgeted uncomfortably beside me, as we buckled ourselves in.

    "I am to say nothing, ny'della. Just to pick you up and deliver you safely."