Ferilon Candidates for Dragons! Stats | Story Originally across several pages on DTF.com/ferilons/ferilon_ranch/dragons collected now in one page 4.8.25 Site links are usually broken when old Geocities but have been left in for posterity |
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They were always the outcasts, the loners, the ones in their tribes that just didn't fit in. How could they? After all, they walked upright or they had those weird thumb-things, too many limbs, and more. Mahno was the first to leave his tribe. He could hardly bear the differences between he and his relatives, let alone the others in the tribe. He was set apart by his colors first, being so bright and some would say jarring. But then when his ear just wouldn't 'stay on' and he lost the chunk of his upper arm, even his own family line shunned him. He could feel their tension whenever he was near. They didn't feel comfortable with his weird slightly smelly 'wound' there. It was somehow still functional, even though he had no muscle nor tendon on his arm. Perhaps that was what triggered his powers. He sensed emotion but more than that, he could control it on a basic level. What he usually wound up doing was scaring the crap out of anything that came his way. He liked that just fine. Caiva with his brightly pink segmented skin and obnoxiously flame-patterened fringe ... not to mention the two heads... He was dumped outside his tribe's territory and told not to return, the moment he was old enough to fend for himself. Perhaps a little earlier than that, really. But... He was never alone. That was a joke, you see. Though his two heads function separately and control different parts of his body (the fringed head controls his legs, while the finned one his torso and arms), they only get along when they have a common enemy or goal. His - their - ability to confuse and confound other minds became apparent when he and the group ran amok of their first Zekirans. But that's getting ahead of the story. CharnBat slithered her own way out of her tribe's sheltered base, leaving everyone there in a state of disarray. Her powers over physical form left many in pain, some with moults, and a few itching crazily for no apparent reason. Her powerful torso aids her when legs would hardly do: she can get into tight spaces and loves to dangle herself on improbable perches. It was on one of those that Thoihra found her, and created the first of their own tribe. NhieuTay had powers that would really have come in handy in the savannah. It's too bad he already lived in a cold climate. And of course, he looks a little like he's wearing clothing fit for a nice chilly place. His control over cold aside, Nhieu is very smart. His four hands seem to be enabled by a much bigger brain than the rest of his old tribe could handle. His trek down from the mountains led him right past BoHam's territory. BoHam with her weird colors and strange fin back and her ugly palpating mouth. To hear any of her tribemates say it - if they had complicated speech, which they didn't - she was simply unfit for life at all. She had to spit on her food to eat it, and what was up with that sheepy curl to her fringe anyway? What had her mother been breeding with? BoHam didn't take much to the things they did intimate about her family. She hoped that when she could summon small lizards and birds or mice to feed upon, purely by thinking it and willing the creatures to her side, that her tribe would appreciate her presence. They feared her instead. So instead she went off with Nhieu when he beckoned from the woods. And Thoihra. Madeningly limbed and graced with impossible flight. Of course he can barely stand being out in the sunlight, his mutations are so strong. No one knows if he was a natural occurance or something that one of the old immortal Zekirans created in their long-dusty labs. He certainly looks it. He is normally very silent, even when on the wing. Yet he does have his moments of both noisy chatter and of complete clumsiness. On the ground he's a mess of limbs, and that huge tail of his doesn't help. But when he's in flight, it is the only thing tying him to gravity. That, and when he's off the ground he is more apt to produce the brilliant gouts of flame from his sensitive eyes... |
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"Are you sure they went this way?" BoHam asked, her patience was begining to wear thin. Caiva as always chattered to himself with both heads at once, and they turned to answer her in unison. Two voices, two minds, one statement. "I'm sure!" "Fine, fine," she said, her mouth parts able to speak even though they looked nothing like normal. Kind of like how Mahno's arm worked, she thought. She glumly followed the annoying pink feri'taur through the forest, and finally he stopped in front of her. He held one hand down, indicating to freeze, and she did. If she was concentrating, she could hear him thinking to himself between his heads. She wasn't too keen on that, so she just silently padded forward until they were shoulder to shoulder. She looked over the edge of the precipice and peered down. Their 'tribe' held some sway over the land nearby. Nhieu occasionally would freeze blocks of ice that would last them until late summer in case their water springs dried up. Thoihra would melt them with his eyes. Each of them did something amazing. But even though they were commanders of their environment, they could never hope to command the Steeds. The great granite outcropping where BoHam and Caiva stood - seeming very small indeed upon the vast stretch of grey rock - overlooked a valley of grand proportion. It had been carved over the course of the last fifteen thousand years, as the last of the Zekirans died off. Once the ice age ended, their story seemed to as well. But they'd left reminders, the Steeds were among them. In fact, the Ferilons were too. Most of the little tribe's genetics would never be like they were if Zekirans hadn't interfered with them at some point in the ancient past. Adding bits of birds, or bats, or insects... Fish, whatever. They weren't picky, those Zekiran animal masters. It was a shame that all but the immortal among them were now long gone. Their creations ruled the planet now. Sure - there were a couple hundred 'people'. But they were nothing to the Steeds. Gigantic animals, already bigger than most Earthly horses when they were brought from their homeworld some eighty five thousand years before. They stood now over 24 hands high, with wingspans getting into the ten and twelve meter range. Some of them had the big curved batwings common for lifters, others had the feathered wings that could soar for hours. Most of the show-bred ones had died out long before. The two Feri'taurs looked down upon a herd of perhaps seventy colorful Steeds. They were grazing, this valley was their spring home. There was a dramatic blue-black one, a huge male, with scarlet wings and mane, he was clearly the leader. He had a family of perhaps fifteen females with him, all in varying states of pregnancy or suckling their young. BoHam sat down, ignoring any warning to remain frozen. She was transfixed, they were lovely. They were dangerous, too, those Steeds had been known to rip through Ferilon territories without even noticing. Their hooves were bigger than most kits, and they were heavy beasts. Beasts they were. BoHat could feel them all from their perch. She could hardly hope to control any of them from there, but should the desire take her, she knew that she'd be able to control one of the young ones. They weren't all that smart. Certainly not as intelligent as their ferilon tribe members. Thumbs would do that for you. "Well, that solves the question of whether we're moving east this summer," BoHam said. She rose, stretched her limbs, and began to make her way down to the tribe's nesting area again. She heard the frantic noise between Caiva's heads, and wondered absently why he'd never taken two names. That way, when he swore at himself, he could at least distinguish between himself. He galloped up to her, as quiet as he could be and without alerting the flying Steed lookouts. They had to be careful, because sometimes the Steeds would run the Ferilons off, and this area they'd found was somewhere that the whole group wanted to keep. "BoHam, wait up!" One head hissed. She slowed down a little, let him catch up, but didn't stop. "Didn't you see the one weird thing down there?" "Weird thing? No." She said, flatly. "Then look again," Caiva said and he exerted a little of his mental willpower over her. She stopped, knowing what he'd done, and was angry. But she wasn't angry enough to fight him. They crept back to the promontory outlook and, wary of the scouts soaring above, sorted out the big herd. "That one there is the thing I mean," Caiva said, pointing carefully. Down by the streamlet one of the colts did stand out a little. His wings were big and leathery, unlike every other Steed in their herd. "So where did he come from?" BoHam asked, softly. "He's obviously not of this bloodline, at least not fully." "Or not at all," Caiva said, low. "He might have come from another Herd." BoHam sighed in a little anger, "oh not another one." "That's what I'm worried about, BoHam. Exactly what I think." He tapped his one head, which bit at his own fingers. "Then we've got to find out," the female replied. "And I am not doing that alone." Together they slipped off the rock and back into the rich forests where they made their home. This part of Curra was the higher end of what used to be Polaen, it was hardly a stretch that there were wild groups of Steeds out here. The whole plains land south of here was where some of the best show and race Steeds had been bred for the better part of fifty thousand years. What wasn't apparent was how Ferilon tribes lived here at all. They were not native, at least not originally. Of course the reason they were all "freaks" to their tribes was that every one of the Ferilons living on Curra or Zerin, or what used to be called those names, as the race that used the terms had petered out and forgotten them, had been brought by rich animal lovers from their native lands. The breeding of Ferilons went in cycles, first trendy colors, then strange mutations, and then it was not uncommon to find fighting breeds that had dangerous claws or spines or protective shells added to their genetics. Those messy genes were largely recessive now, of course, they'd never been natural in the first place, but they were present. The Ferilon tribe here knew a little about it, when they'd run into one of the Outsiders. Plus, with CharnBat's ability to alter the biology of those around her, the Outsider was eager to instruct her on how best to use that ability. They'd evolved Zekiran psionic powers, to match their weird appearances. They'd become Zekirans. |
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-- The Past -- At first he was quiet, when they observed the tall very dark skinned Zekiran man as he paced around the ruins of a city, perhaps forty summers past. On the north edge of the Ferilon's territory was what appeared to be a very large inhabited zone, with the appropriate amounts of steel, concrete and ruins that said they had once been a thriving society. It wasn't the only city that the tribe had encountered on their way to their current home, there had been many - much smaller but in the same vein. This place seemed to be enchanting for the Zekiran. But it held its share of ghosts. Literally - he stood still for a moment, and Mahno swore that there was a brilliant sheen of light around him for that time. Then the man who was known once as a master breeder turned and looked directly at the group. All six of them bristled, CharnBat lay low and flat on the ground, her tail twitching; the others noticed the practical impossibility of someone 'not noticing' Thoihra... But the man merely blinked at them, and lowered his stance a little. He shrunk down, until he was crouching, still staring with those brilliant blue eyes. NhieuTay noticed that there was a white ring around his feet, in the grass. The grass had been bleached of all its color? When was this? "I won't hurt you," the man said, softly, and in a language that was as old as the race he now represented. It was similar to the language that the Ferilons spoke, but with a heavy accent, an odd way of saying things. "Come on out," he repeated, "I will not harm you." The two bolder males, NhieuTay and Mahno, looked at one another and began to approach. BoHam remained with CharnBat, but stood tall. Caiva began to bicker quietly between his two heads, his 'torso-head' wanted to move forward with the others. His 'body-head' didn't want anything to do with it. Eventually it was Thoihra nudging all three of the stragglers with a variety of his wings, that got them to move into the patch of sunlight and into full view of this Zekiran man. "Well, there you are, I ... was told there were some little people here." He said. It was faintly garbled to the Ferilons, but they got the gist quickly. He smiled, bright teeth against his darkly brown skin. Since the Ferilons had been bred by these people for generations, they knew that the smile he had on his face wasn't a menacing grimace or snarl, it was a greeting. They used it on each other, most of the time, but in the Ferilon society it had a faintly mocking tone. They were the slaves of the Zekirans when they were being bred, and that stigma subconsciously traveled through the generations. "What are you?" Asked CharnBat suddenly. Most of her still lay on the ground, only what she chose to lift, her neck and head, were really visible above the grass. The man tilted his head, surprised at the speech, perhaps he hadn't known they could speak. But there was more to it than that, really, because in any of his incarnations, this particular man was well known for learning quickly. He adjusted his speech for them. "I am one of the Outsiders," he said, watching their reactions for whether they understood him or not. "Sadly immortal, we cannot die, and yet we wander still..." He drew in a sigh. "And the ghosts come to me," he waved his hand as though indicating one. Only Mahno saw what he meant. A wisp of smoke, almost with a face. "So I knew you to be here because one of them saw you." "Ghosts - pah," NhieuTay said. "No such things." "I beg to differ," the Zekiran said, "there are millions of them. Do you know your history?" "We know we were once pets to your sort," BoHam said. "Have you come to reclaim us now?" Defensively, she stood and her tail moved through the grass. "No, no," the man chuckled. "I was just walking here. This city was built to accomodate those who had to leave Rook," he stood and indicated the mountains to the east, "when an earthquake dropped Rook down the mountainside, hundreds of thousands of lives were lost. It was a terrible disaster. But," he turned back, "we recovered as we always did..." There was a tint of sadness in his voice. "Did you have a hand in our creation?" Asked Mahno. "Oh, no, no, I never bred Ferilons. People, Zekirans I mean, yes." He smiled. "Now this all belongs to you," he looked around and surveyed the overgrown city. A tremendous sadness moved over his long face, Mahno explained that the spirit that had been near him decided to leave. "You just.... walk?" Asked Thoihra. The man looked down at the collection of limbs and wings on Thoihra and almost laughed aloud. "That I do, because I cannot do anything else." He knelt again, extending his hand carefully for them to sniff if they wished. CharnBat hesitated, but Caiva finally moved forward, and finally everyone came toward him. "I ... don't know if I should scratch you or just talk," the man said. "It would be okay to scratch just here," NhieuTay said, tilting his head a little, and the dark skinned Zekiran obliged him. A gesture of friendship? Perhaps, or just getting an itch scratched by someone with nails just as hard as they needed to be. Eventually, they learned that the man's name was Vanya Sengihr. He explained what he did all this time, walking from place to place and just surviving on his own. He loved being around people, but he told the Ferilons that most of his folk - the immortals among the dead Zekiran race - lived on a small continent far away and he prefered not to live there. He didn't like the climate, nor some of the people he'd have to stomach. So even though he loved being around some people, he just couldn't stand to live there like nothing happened to the rest of their beloved race. Another odd look came upon him while night fell, and they were sitting in one of the ruins. Mahno watched this time, as a ghost shot itself into his body. The nearby stone that he sat upon changed from a dark grey-green shade to a bleached white when it did so. Vanya looked at them all oddly again, and then narrowed his eyes. He got the very same look on his face that Caiva got when he was arguing with himself. "I do not think that is appropriate," he whispered, "and I will ask them first." "Ask us what?" Mahno said, putting his hand up to indicate the others to be silent. "Well," Vanya said with a grin, "one of the ghosts here would like to know if you'd want to become like me." "We already stand upright," said Thoihra, doing so proudly. "No," Vanya said, "he was a ... I don't know if 'healer' is the right word," he spoke to the ghost, mostly, "and he had powers to alter the genes of his patients... Clean them of things they'd been born with, engineer something new into a body. Like you can," he looked at CharnBat, who shrank again. He had to explain what he meant by 'genes', and 'engineering' but they essentially understood shortly. By the time it was quite dark, Vanya had asked them if they in fact wanted to be immortal. "We will have to think upon this," Mahno said. "Think quickly," Vanya said. "The ghosts only last so long. He wants to do something important for someone before he's gone entirely." "Gone?" Asked BoHam. "Every time they come to me to do these things, speaking through me or performing their old powers," Vanya explained, "they lose their own existence. It's... like they only have a certain amount left in them. He wants to use his last essence on you." "To make us immortal?" Asked Thoihra, and Vanya nodded. Thoihra glanced at the others, but then said, "I'll do it." Of course that got the rest muttering. Why did they want this? What about how lonely this Zekiran seemed? What if they got tired of it? In the end, they agreed to do it. They were already a good tribe, but they hadn't bred yet and there would be a good chance that the offspring they produced would also be immortal. They could guide the Ferilon community if it became large. They would be able to out think their normal four-pawed brothers. They already did that, of course, by virtue of their new body types. But this was more. They could learn so much! They might enter this ruined city, which Vanya called Nuark, and find tomes of history and learn them. "You are looking for a legacy," BoHam said, and Vanya tilted his head. "You are looking for your race's legacy to live on, in us?" The ghost within Vanya forced him to nod, and grew a pleading look onto the man's face. "Please hurry your decision." "We've decided already," she said. |
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The ghost that left his mark on the tribe seemed to sigh with relief when he vanished. And when he did, it wasn't just Mahno that noticed it. The others were kind of creeped out. "That was... it?" Asked CharnBat. Vanya nodded, and they saw that the whole of the room where they sat during this night had been sucked clean of any color. Each of the Ferilons privately was glad that they themselves hadn't been bleached! Exhausted, Vanya announced that he needed to rest after that. He wasn't sure when he'd wake up. Sometimes he would sleep for years at a time. They hoped that wouldn't happen this time... There was much to learn. As a tribe then, they wandered for a little while with Vanya. They left their territory - knowing they would be coming back some day - and escorted him to where he said he'd had a large amount of land and buildings. A city known as Behat. The distance they wandered was large. It took them more than four years to travel it, too, because while there were roads, they were not in good repair. Plus, Vanya towered over the small Ferilons. Even though they stood upright, the tallest among them, Thoihra, came merely to his thigh. Vanya had to slow down to accomodate the pattering limbs behind him. But the travel was good. It was enlightening. They found communities of other Ferilon living near the ruined roads, watched Steeds fly overhead in their great colorful herds, and they learned the history of the world they traveled. Not every one of the tribe really learned everything. They each enjoyed some aspect more than others. Thoihra was entertained most by the exploration of the world. CharnBat would have been an ideal healer, had she been Zekiran. Caiva was interested to note that they used to race the Steeds, he was enfatuated with them. BoHam learned to read, and read everything she could find - that wasn't rotted away or dust - about Animal Mastery and how food sources and environment played key roles. Nhieutay ... wanted to be a superhero. "Why would you say that?" Asked Mahno, whose own delight in arts and politics was fulfilled by many records. "They were only popular for a little while." "But they did amazing things," Nhieutay said. "I can do that. We all can. Look at us, we're a natural group!" With the typical stolid expression on her face, BoHam dismissed the cold-controller with a sigh. "You go do that then... We'll be waiting for you." "Who would you save, exactly?" CharnBat asked. "Well - I ... That.... hrm." That kind of put the stop to that line of thinking. But he was still eager to see what new things they would find. He wanted to explore a bit. They did so, on their way home. It took another six years to return from Behat to Nuark. In their own way, they had adventures worthy of recording. They did record them too, in a kind of song they shared. Ferilons would yip and bark, whine and purr, but they could add language to all that noise too. Their new history - the tribe of immortal freaks - would now be told as an ongoing tale. -- And back to the present-day -- "What will we do with the new herd, if there is one?" Asked Mahno. "We can't scare them off," he glared at Nhieutay and the icy-colored feri'taur clamped his mouth shut. "So what now?" "If there is one. We should find out first." Thoihra flexed his wings. But BoHam put a stop to that. "They patrol their territory by flight, Thoihra," she reminded him. "If they see something new in the sky with them, they'll attack you." "And I would attack right back," he said, his dark crimson-violet eyes glowing a bit with the heat power he had. "I don't think that's the best way to deal with them..." CharnBat said. "We could be more ... sneaky." The two females looked at one another, and a kind of grin crept across BoHam's muzzle - it was hard to read because of her mouthparts. But they'd long since gotten used to it. When she spread her palps and raised the inner jaw like that... was a grin. "Between you and I we could ... begin to pursuade any small herd to leave on its own," BoHam said. "Obstinate Steeds don't cooperate well," Caiva pointed out. "That's why we have you 'convince' them." CharnBat purred. She slunk up to him and wrapped herself around his torso. She'd be going into heat sometime soon, perhaps they'd have kits? Their new physiology of immortality came at a cost, they would have offspring but they would also be rare. Instead of coming into heat every year or so, the females noticed they alternated about every six or eight, plus they didn't come into heat the same season. "I still think I could just fry them," Thoihra muttered, but he knew that would be folly. Mahno also knew that. "I would say that our abilities," he glanced at the group, "make us uniquely suited for this. So Caiva, we'll be superheroes if only subtle ones." With glee, the group made its way toward the herdlands. Well, perhaps glee was too strong a word. Determination. They figured that if BoHam could get any information from the steeds nearby, they would be able to get the location of the other herd more easily. If they couldn't pry that information from the steeds thick skulls, then perhaps they'd just sneak around the valley until they located it. There were only two real possibilities that the ferilons thought the herd could take. One was to the other side of the valley, where the land was rugged and difficult but livable, and the other was the once-urban setting of Nuark. BoHam got herself down to the edge of the valley, where the trees began to thin and the bright green grasses and low shrubs took over. There was precious little cover, especially for a creature as brightly colored as she. CharnBat offered to 'change her colors' for her, but the violet striped feri'taur declined. She operated with stealth, she'd been their best hunter for years. But hunting voles and rabbits and mice was something different than this. Ferilons weren't necessarily the top predators in the forest, nor were they on the bottom of the food chain. But no animal enjoyed its privelege outside that food chan as much as the Steeds did. They were bred long ago to have a fierce self-reliance. To have strong instincts but to take commands from their leader properly and quicly. When the scout caught a whiff of the ferilons up on their promontory rock, he gave a warning knicker. When the ferilons didn't leave, he shrieked down to the herd stallion. All the fur on BoHam's body stood up with that sound. It was uncannily like a death scream, it'd certainly put everyone on edge. The steeds all bolted toward whoever was biggest. In most cases that meant foals went to their mothers, and in the mother's cases, they went to a big bundle of danger. The herd leader. Sable and crimson, with an eerie look in his eyes. BoHam made sure that her powers of animal coersion were working. Either they didn't see her, or they didn't care. The steeds, once rousted into groups of ten or eleven each, sent what appeared to be their biggest member to the stallion. It was almost like a military play. Unfortunately, the Zekirans never had wars like this. They were never organized in troops and squadrons the way these steeds were. Thoihra wanted to get to BoHam, but he knew that would give away her position. So they set about preparing to defend themselves, from the batch of flying steeds who now rose into the air. The big black one at the point, followed by six large impressive others. Two were female, showing that these steeds never got it into their heads that they couldn't have females fight. While they got into the air, though, BoHam crept further into their territory and started looking for the bat-winged foal. Of course, he was nearly on the other side of the valley by now. But she was quick, and as long as the steeds thought all the danger was coming from the rocks, she was relatively safe. At last, while the steeds above were shrieking and whinnying and dancing their sharp hooves in front of the other Ferilons, BoHam made it to the group where the foal stood. He was smaller in build than most of the feather-winged ones, which confused her. It was plain that one of the mothers brought him into the world, though, because her markings of pale dust colored dots were echoed on his hide too. So it would be the mother that BoHam needed to investigate. Calmly, quietly, BoHam reached out with her mind powers. She reached the animal's mind, and rummaged around in it for any signs of the male that'd sired her odd-winged foal. "Got it," she whispered, and immediately started back. While she did that, though, the boys and CharnBat were having a field day defending their rock. Thoihra had taken wing, but not left the safety of the woods. The big wings on the steeds meant they couldn't follow up there. His heat vision left one steed with a burning wing, and another with a charcoal stripe across his flank. Even so, neither of those steeds gave up any air, they continued to harry the group until they heard BoHam's chirp from the other trees behind them. Abruptly, then, they broke off their attack. NhieuTay let loose one bolt of cold that froze the feathers right off one steed, and they tumbled to the ground - without breaking anything, it seemed. It would be a while before that one flew again, though. With the vanishing act that the ferilons did, the big black stallion decided it was time to return things to normal. He flew down and tested the air with his big nostrils, and then snorted the all-okay. "Dumb beasts," NhieuTay muttered. "Did they get you?" "No, I wasn't seen. Thank you," BoHam breathed, still gasping from her gallop there. "And did you get the information?" Mahno asked. "I did. They're in the city, but they're very few. She thought her mate was lost, that was the impression I got." BoHam told them. "Then we need to get back up to Nuark," Thoihra said. "Maybe if we chase the batwinged ones down into the valley," Mahno pondered, "the feathered ones would drive them away for us." "There's a thought," said one of Caiva's heads. "But we can't be sure they wouldn't just team up. That happens with those things." "It would depend on if it's a very small herd or not," said CharnBat, "but if it's that small we don't really need to worry about it anyway." "Five or six won't make much difference to that herd," Thoihra said, nodding. "It's worth it either way. These feather-steeds won't be going anywhere, and they can't come into our woods anyway. They know that much." "They're dumb as rocks otherwise," muttered Caiva. "Let's get our sleep and head out tomorrow. Today's gone anyway." ** The herd turned out to be tiny. Six in total, and one of them looked to be older than the rest by a bit. One foal, that was all. It didn't look as though there were a dominant male in this group, and BoHam confirmed that with her powers. "They look to the eldest, then there are two other females, that foal, and the two brothers. Too small to survive on its own, really. No wonder the one boy there," she pointed to the one with greyish green wing sails, "went for better pickings than these old nags." Caiva got a strange look on his faces, and started slinking toward the herd. "What are you doing?!" CharnBat hissed. "I'm going to catch one. We could ride them." He continued to slink until Thoihra wisely intervened with a sweep of his many wings. Depositing himself between the herd and Caiva. "You're no fun at all." "We aren't here to have fun," Thoihra pointed out, with a worried glance over his shoulder at the herd. They surely were going to scent the group sooner or later. "We're here to move this herd." "Who's to say that I couldn't get them to move that way?" Caiva said, and even CharnBat snickered at that. Given Caiva's typical addled energy it was entirely possible that the two headed Feri'taur could move the herd all by himself. He had help after all... The group watched this herd for a few days. The elder of the steeds seemed wary of their presence, but did nothing but occasionally stamp her hoof on the old cement angrily. Once they had a good idea of where they slept, how they made their way through the ruins, and where all the good hiding places might be, the tribe was about to launch a herding run. They would make lots of noise, Thoihra would swoop around in the air zapping things behind and to the sides to get the group running. They'd be able to pen the steeds into an area where the overhead was too low to take off, so they'd have to run down into the valley. Steeds, as BoHam would point out occasionally, weren't all that incredibly bright. If they were urged to run instead of fly, then she'd make sure they didn't take off. Everyone was in position, and then... The six Steeds erupted into a panic. So intent on their targets were the tribe of ferilons, however, they didn't see what it was that startled them. But as that was a good a cue as any, they began their run toward the herd. BoHam blasted the eldest with her most fervent animal controlling power - stay on the ground! it'll get us if we fly! stay on the ground! - and kept running as hard as she could to keep up with the big animals. Thoihra was the first to notice what it was that had startled the herd. He was up in the air, still preparing for his first dive, when a shadow passed over him and blocked the sun briefly. He only noticed it because he was always so warm in the sun... It was no wonder he wanted to get rid of all that hot energy! But what was it that could have -- He turned to see a gigantic shape - well, gigantic compared to the ferilons and steeds, anyway. It was dark blue against the cloudy sky, with great segmented leather wings rather like those on the steeds below. A long neck, a pear-shaped body... long tail... "What is that thing?!" Thoihra screeched, and plummeted to the ground. It was the first thing he could do, he just wanted to get out of its way. The steeds below continued their frantic run anyway, regardless of the presence of squawking ferilons. Right down into the tunnel of trees, where they'd either run out of energy or head all the way to the valley. Either way, the ferilons knew they wouldn't be returning to the ruins. But why was Thoihra panicked too!? He flew, wings pumping in all directions, yet somehow zipping in only one. "There's - a - thing!" He panted, and tumbled to the ground near the others. CharnBat was the last to show up, she'd been at the head of their tunnel with her powers at the ready. She slithered up and looked around. "What just happened? Did we do that?" "No!" Thoihra gasped. "There's something else up there! Big!" "You are the biggest chicken known to ferilon kind," Mahno muttered, and started walking out toward the ruins again. "Well I could say something about you being the biggest pussy but that'd be an insult to the girls!" Thoihra yelled. Both of Caiva's heads looked at Mahno, who shrugged. "Is this how you use the things I taught you?" Asked a low, masculine Zekiran voice. The group spun, seeing the tall dark-skinned humanoid from their past, and rushed him as a group-glomp. "Vanya!" NhieuTay called loudly, "it's Vanya! Thoi!" From beyond one of the overgrown walls, they could see his wingtips moving, "well that's just fine," Thoihra said with a grumble. "What's wrong with him?" Vanya asked. "Oh, he's just pissy because someone chose Caiva instead of him to pair up with next season..." BoHam said with her strange 'grin'. "Well they're acting like old partners already," Vanya muttered. "So you've come back, with... a gigantic... monster?" Thoihra finally said, coming out from the shadows and greeting their mentor. "He's not a monster, he's Ruarth. A dragon." An odd look passed over Vanya's eyes, "oh, that's right, this is the timeline without them. Heh." He shrugged, and added, "you shouldn't be so shocked, it's rather similar to you, Thoihra." "It's huge," the flighted ferilon said simply. "Anything bigger than me in the sky is a monster." "That's sensible." Vanya said. "So - what ... exactly... did I miss?" "You didn't miss, in fact you did what we'd been trying to do for days," Mahno replied. "Chasing the steeds down into the valley so they won't interfere with any more of our territory." Suddenly Vanya got a strange guilty look on his face. "Oh. Steeds. Yes." "Why are you getting all-" CharnBat started to say, but then she perked up and looked down toward the valley. "What's happening?" "I think... That Ruarth just killed and is now eating one of those steeds you were talking about..." Vanya said. "That's fine with me," NhieuTay muttered. "Anything that keeps them from our territory, right?" CharnBat said with a bit of a grin. "I had never really noticed your incredible cruel streak, CharnBat," Vanya said. "I wonder which one it was," Caiva said, pushing his noses into the air and sniffing, as if he could tell that way. Vanya's eyes glossed over a little, and then he said, "a big spotted brown one." "That would be the elder," BoHam nodded. "Without her, the others will head toward the valley. I gave them a very strong impression of where to go." "Then our mission was a success?" NhieuTay said, proudly. "See, I told you we were ideal as a group!" The others rolled their eyes in exhasperation. |
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The ferilons and Vanya made camp in the ruins that night. Ruarth finally descended from the sky, finding a good open space to land. The ferilons first stayed away from him, but then as the day wore on their curiosity got the better of their fear. Vanya swore up and down that Ruarth was perfectly safe - they were his friends and he knew it. "But ... where did you get him? And how? And... why?" Asked Mahno. "A place called DragonSoul," Vanya replied. "And... I got him in the future." All the looks on their muzzles were the same and it was a look that Vanya had seen many times before in his travels. He explained some things about what happened to him after he and the tribe parted. "I went to Behat, of course you know that. I found some of my old buildings, nothing was intact of course, but it was there. The snow kept me there for another two years, but it was all right. When the summer came I headed down the coast around where Altem used to be, and ran into one of my ... old friends." The way he said it indicated they were anything but friends, but still, Vanya continued without explanation. "We traveled together for a while, made our way across the ocean." That got a gasp from the tribe. The lake near by was enough to make most of them tired, let alone the idea of something so gigantic as an ocean. "In a boat, Caiva, in a boat..." That clarified, they laughed nervously. "We went to Neres, where the others had been assembling a ship." He glanced skyward, "a star ship. One that could carry us all away from here. And we did. We left." "Left... left Zekira? Into what?" Asked BoHam. "Into space, where the stars are, other worlds." Vanya said. The stars were coming out, now, over the cover of clouds. They all stared at them, and Vanya nodded to himself. "This will sound strange, but ... about six years after we parted, did you see anything in the sky? Do you remember?" They all looked at one another, and then Mahno slowly nodded. "I remember. There was a very bright star, for days on end. They didn't share my fascination." He thumbed at the others, who made la-de-da motions. "It was... you? Your ship? But you are here. Have you all come back?" "Oh no, no... I have, others have separately... Ones with dragons. You see," he sighed and settled in, "we traveled for nearly a thousand years before we encountered even one habitable planet..." That brought The Look back. "I've traveled back in time, with Ruarth. It's a thing they can do, since they teleport. The dragons of some worlds merely need to know what a place looks like, the stars positions, the time of day, and they can reach it. It was ... a very long journey from where I was, and that was why Ruarth was so hungry." "You. Traveled through time. Back here." BoHam said. "Why?" At that, Vanya smiled. "Because I wanted to get you. Bring you out to the stars. Maybe to a new place... We've ... traveled a long long time, my old friends. I only even remembered we'd met because we were looking over all the old records of Zekira and I saw something about ferilon breeding. We have gene samples, but no living ferilons yet. I came back ... for you. And maybe others." The tribe looked at one another, confused and curious. "We have a new colony world," Vanya said. "It's called Planet Twenty." "How very original," CharnBat said. "I didn't name it," Vanya said. "The Zekirans are there, along with a number of furs like yourselves. Genetically engineered many generations ago, they're starting to do the same things you did: you evolved powers like Zekirans. So are they. Minor ones, like heating and healing, telepathy." "Now there's something we could use," Mahno said. "It's handy. Dragons use it, if you're paired with a dragon you can... well, speak through them to someone." Vanya said. "Wait, wait," NhieuTay shook his head and his ears flopped around, "you are saying that you not only want us to leave our territory - now that we've defended it - and get... dragons... and live on another planet?" "... Essentially, yes." "How about we don't?" Said CharnBat. "I like it here." It was very clear that Vanya was disappointed with this reception. He was quite eager to see them come back with him, but ... perhaps another tactic. "You could stay here, with the dragons," Vanya said. "They can travel back and forth between the worlds, if you want to visit." "You're really keen on these things," Thoihra said, looking at Ruarth. The dragon's big wings were strong, meant for quick flight moves and powerful diving. Thoihra could appreciate the build of it. "I ... am, really," Vanya said. "They won't age if you won't. They won't leave you, won't die unexpectedly unless you take them into battles. Some of them love it, fighting threats on worlds. The dragons of Planet Twenty keep some other people away. It's a privelege to have a bond like Ruarth. Not everyone is good for it." "And you think for some reason, that we are?" Asked Caiva's one head. The other added, "we do have our own legs to carry us, you know." "I've known stranger things to bond a dragon," Vanya muttered and shook his head. "We'd need to discuss it, of course," Mahno said, tilting his head toward the others, who nodded. "Well, take whatever time you need," Vanya said, leaning back, "we've got that." ** Of course they decided to go and at least investigate the idea of ... dragons. "They'll have to be somewhat small," Mahno indicated how little they really were. "You're only about the size of a young teenager - Zekirans like myself are deceptively tall," Vanya said. "But you're right. You'll need littler dragons." "I don't want a little dragon," Thoihra said, with a vicious smile, "I want a big one. Bigger than yours." "Almost every dragon is bigger than mine," Vanya said, and Ruarth gave a little annoyed bellow. "Well they are!" He turned and explained about sizes, colors, genders... It all went fairly over their heads. "I can take you now," he said. "If you want. But I'll have to come back. Or I suppose I could find the others, and ask them if they would help." "We've never met any others," CharnBat said, slightly worried. "It's all right," Caiva said, protectively. "We're going to have to meet others now. Besides," he grinned, "we're superheroes, we can't be harmed. No one can take our group and split it up." At that, Vanya made a little cough. "You might consider going to separate places, for breeding purposes..." "You are always talking about breeding this and breeding that," BoHam said. "What if we don't want them breeding?" "They'll do it anyway," Vanya laughed. "Ruarth did right under my nose, I didn't even realize it until he told me there were eggs on the sands that were his." So it was decided that Vanya would fetch some other riders and their dragons, ones who could carry the odd little four-footed people. He left, and the ferilon tribe looked around themselves and tried to figure ways to reclaim their territory once they needed to. In the middle of the next day, during a heated discussion between Thoihra and Mahno about whether they should remain in the ruins with their dragons or return to the forest land, another great shadow burst through the sky. It was followed by two others, smaller, and then one that they recognized, Ruarth. But that first one had Thoihra all aquiver: it was gigantic. Black, scaley, and best of all it spit a long gout of flame when it came over head just to make sure that everyone knew they were coming. "Well if the Steeds had any inclination to return here," BoHam said, "that would certainly convince them otherwise..." The dragons found a place to land, an area that used to be a park or some monument. Only grasses grew there, it was a good landing spot, surrounded by mostly intact buildings. The big black one was having some trouble fitting in on the turf near her three companions. Ruarth was indeed dwarfed by comparison. And Vanya was very tame in comparison to two of the other riders. One of them could have been his brother only all pale instead of all dark. Tall and elegant with a huge mane of shaggy silver-brown hair, the rider of the big black female flew down on his own wind power, landing near Vanya and saying something that made the darker man roll his eyes and sigh. The two other dragons stood with their heads high, though they were completely different from one another - and from the other two. Ruarth was pear-shaped, with a long slender neck and a long tail, smooth back, and rounded wings. The black, whose name was apparently Neres Storm, had ridges and spikey feet and all sorts of texture to her scaley skin, and long antennae that both CharnBat and Thoihra equated to their own. The smaller of the others was a brilliant green-golden shade, a solid build and a short neck, horns, and large thick legs. Her wings were strong, they looked to be narrow and good for gliding. The creature which got off her back ... "Is that a Zekiran too?" Asked CharnBat, but she knew the answer already, her powers told her so. In fact, her powers told her that all four of the people who rode these dragons were related. The white-skinned wildhaired male was the progenitor of all, while he was clearly the father of the female who dropped down from the beautiful rainbow-chrome dragoness. The green's rider however stood on four paws, had wings, and an almost entirely birdlike head! The ferilons watched him, and he suddenly realized they were staring at him. "Those are them?" He asked, and Vanya nodded. The 'taur's voice was pleasant, soft, light. He padded up to them and they then realized that if a creature of his size and shape could ride a dragon, they could. The three 'taurs were perhaps as large as his flank. Maybe add a leg. His wings were delicate, insect like, barely solid enough to be seen, let alone carry him. Yet, they seemed to aid him when he jumped from the back of his dragon. "This is Szhraad," Vanya said, "and his dragon is Marantanth." The yellowish green nodded her horned head. "There is Wildstorm, and her father Tresis," the tall pair - the girl had a tail and long ears, as well as markings on her slightly furry skin. "And Keluanya," Vanya introduced the chromed shiny rainbow female, "and Neres Storm." The big black one bellowed, and the ground shook. "Who is louder than she needs to be." "She says she never gets out," Tresis said with a grin on his thin lips. "I want to show her where I used to live, if you don't mind." "Don't be too long," Vanya warned. "And try - please - not to get lost." Tresis made a harrumph, echoed in his dragon, and they left abruptly. The other three relaxed a bit, not just because she was taking up so much space. As she flew off, great wings beating, everyone could hear the sounds of the terrified Steed herd in the valley. That put smiles back on the ferilon's muzzles. "That," Vanya said, "is a Glenn bred dragon. Keluanya is from Ryslen, and both of ours are no longer hatching." "Pity," said BoHam, "Marantanth is very pretty." "I'm sure we'll find you a place to bond one somewhat like her," Szhraad said. "When Tresis gets back, we'll head to Planet Twenty and then off to wherever." "He just wants to bring us there to breed," NhieuTay said. "That is not an entirely bad idea," said Szhraad, and while they watched his head turned from being birdlike to being more... like them. He grew fur on his long thick tail, and his wings shrank down to nubs. He was a ferilon'taur, only he was a Zekiran. "That is amazing!" CharnBat exclaimed, and slithered up to him eagerly. Caiva wasn't too pleased about that. But then shortly, Tresis and Neres Storm came back. "You didn't get lost?" Vanya asked. "No." Tresis said, from the back of the dragon. "But I did greet myself in the Tower." Vanya groaned, "you're not supposed to-" "There were no others around, not even the natives, then... I was quite lonely, Vanya. You know that feeling well." Tresis said, in a rather chiding way. "Wait, you went through time, to head somewhere here on Zekira, and you met yourself doing it?" Caiva said, "that's different." "It is also very dangerous," Wildstorm reminded her father. "But we're ready, if you are." Though the dragons were large, it would be difficult to take the 'taurs, so Caiva went with Wildstorm, NhieuTay was assisted onto Marantanth's back, and BoHam took Neres' passenger spot. Thoihra flapped around like a gigantic flitter, but Vanya warned him he couldn't just fly with them - where they were headed, he would get lost immediately. So he flapped down onto Neres' back as well. That left Mahno and CharnBat to go with Vanya. CharnBat snuggled up close, and gave Vanya a grin. "I bet you think twice about breeding now." "I've bred with stranger things than you," he replied with his own grin. CharnBat was silent the rest of the trip. ** Planet Twenty was a wide open place, a little less forest than the ferilon tribe liked, but then they were only used to it because they hadn't bothered to move anywhere else. The thing that really got to the group - apart from being in the air, they'd never flown before - was that there were people. Lots of them. Of many colors, shapes, sizes and species. The thing they liked the most, though, was that because of that fact, they weren't looked upon as complete freaks. For the first time they were welcomed into a group, accepted, even with their odd mix of features. The Zekirans that had already started breeding with the cheetah kin had four-footers, two footers, multiple limbs, spots with wings... They were impressed. They were hungry. When one of the Zekirans suggested they go to Wildstorm's place for a feast, she sighed and flew off with Keluanya to find something worth cooking. "Cooking?" NheiuTay asked, "I remember reading about that..." "You've never tried it?" Vanya asked, during their leisurely stroll toward the big open air homestead that Wildstorm and Cryten lived in. "Thoihra can make fire from his eyes, and you've never tried cooking your food?" "It seems like such a bother, when we just like eating things raw..." NheiuTay muttered. By the time the group - the Ferilons, Vanya, Szhraad and a number of happy curious Kin and Zekirans - got to the wooden and stone building over the large dragon cave, Keluanya and Wildstorm had returned with some indescribable animal from the plains nearby. It started the tribe's mouths watering, but the feast wasn't going to happen just yet... No. They had to burn the meat, strip the skin from it, rend it from its bones. "What are they doing?" Asked CharnBat, "this is idiotic. We're hungry, you know." She tugged at Vanya's silken sleeve. "I know, but... it's a tradition. When we visit your tribe's home we'll eat your offerings raw or whatever it is you'd like. How's that?" She seemed somewhat satisfied with that response. When the plates with meat - lightly charred, it still had some blood to it at least - and vegetables (which had been steamed expertly by Cryten) and bread were passed out, the tribe wasn't quite sure what to do. Finally, Thoihra bit into his meat and began nibbling at the tubers. NhieuTay lifted the bread and sniffed at it, before gnawing on it a little. BoHam however did what she always did with her food. She slobbered a load of acidic mouth juice on her plate, which began dissolving the meat into paste which she then began sucking up with palps. Needless to say, the Zekirans around the table were horrified. But they were guests, and tradition was that guests did what they did. If they wanted to eat, why didn't they just hunt? Wildstorm leaned over to Vanya and whispered clearly, "Vanya?" "Yes?" He said, the part of his face not visible to her was smirking. "You said these ... people... were civilized? Yes?" "I did, they are." "Then teach them some table manners, my sweet healer..." She muttered and tried to ignore BoHam's slurping. When everyone was filled to the gills with excellent food - dissolved, baked, charred or otherwise - someone brought out a flute and started playing it while others danced. The ferilons were bewildered, but they had seen such things in the Zekiran archives. "This place is so ... different." Caiva said. "I don't know if we can get along here, really." "Don't worry about it," Vanya said. "You won't have to if you wish. If you go back to Zekira, you'll have dragons to keep your territory safe, and visit here if you wish." "We would do that," agreed BoHam. "I will." Late into the night, the Kin and Zekirans and eventually the Tribe played and danced. The tribe did their best to emulate dancing, though they had never done it before. They immitated the ways they would hunt, that went over well with the Kin. Exhausted, everyone slept where they sat, in Wildstorm's big house. ** "Well, we can get you to wherever you want to go," Vanya announced, "Cryten and Wildstorm will be taking over from here, they travel the Nexus better than I do." "Any day, gramps," Cryten laughed. He wasn't really Vanya's grand child, however he was Kalkin's - sort of - and they were the same person in different skins. The semi-cheetah kin helped himself to a branch of grapes, and led the group outside again. Down on the wide plaza of stone and grasses, were a large number of dragons. "We've asked the dragons to come show off for you," Wildstorm said with a grin, "and of course they came. You already know that my Kel and Cryten's dragon are from Ryslen. And that the Glenn offers many like them -" she waved her hand at Neres Storm and two others of different colors. "I would say walk among them, carefully. The dragons will take you to their home sands, it won't be hard to find good places for you to bond." They did just that. Walking among the big legs and shifting tails, listening to the rumbling breath and the occasional scrape of claw against stone... "Well I know I want to find one like her," Thoihra said, still pointing at Neres Storm. "She said the Glenn isn't around any more, but there are a couple places. Where?" "Midsummer has a number of them, I think?" Someone suggested, and Neres Storm nodded from the far side of the field. "Then that is where I wish to go." Thoihra said with surity in his voice. The others milled about, still unsure. Then they began to filter around to one or another. Eventually, they found who they were looking for. *continued on each page* |
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