"So, when are you leaving then?" Peyote asked.
Vireo took a deep breath. "Like in an hour." And then tomorrow I'll be in an unfamiliar nation he thought to himself.
"Really?" Peyote asked with a jump. "That's really crazy."
Vireo nodded. "Yep, it's how it is apparently."
Leafy, seemingly reading Vireo's expression, hopped off Peyote's shoulder and walked over to him. She looked up at him, then gently patted his claw. He knelt down, and the little creature reached out with a tiny finger and softly touched the edge of the healing cut on his forearm.
"Is she showing empathy?" Peyote softly asked.
"U-uhhhh," Vireo faltered. "Yeah, maybe?"
Peyote squinted his eyes. "That would mean their smarter than we think. If they're this smart, then why does nobody talk about the Cloth Monkeys, and the other variants?"
"Well," Vireo replied, waving a talon. "It might be because most dragons just see them as prey. Like large chipmunks or something."
Peyote shook his head. "Dragons are so dumb."
Vireo chuckled. That was ironic coming from Peyote, but he knew what he meant. The harmful kind of dumb was bad, not the Peyote kind of dumb.
Leafy, having finished her inspection of his wound, scrambled up his arm and perched on his shoulder, letting out a soft, contented coo. She began to gently pick at a stray grain of sand on one of his neck scales. A warm feeling spread through Vireo's chest.
Vireo reached up and gently stroked Leafy's back with one claw. The little creature leaned into his touch. He had to leave. He had to leave them both for this stupid trip that he never wanted to go on. The peer pressure from his mother was very, very real.
"I... I have to go, Peyote," he said, his voice heavy.
"Already?" Peyote asked, his cheerful mood dimming.
Vireo carefully lifted Leafy from his shoulder and placed her back into Peyote's waiting claws. "Yeah, I have someone waiting for me at the western gate. I don't want to be late."
"That's fine, I guess." Peyote said, looking down at the ground.
He bounded to the door of Peyote's room. "Alright," he said, opening the door. "Take care of her, okay?"
"Yeah, fly safe, Vireo!" Peyote called after him.
Vireo left Peyote's house and launched himself into the sky, not daring to look back. He flew towards the Western Gate, a massive archway carved into the city's outer wall. Waiting there was a dragon he definitely didn't recognize. He was lean and muscular, with scales the color of dark, reddish rock. He wore armor that was very obviously scarred from use. This had to be Captain Caracara.
Vireo landed a few feet away. "Captain Caracara?"
The dragon turned his head. His gaze was sharp and assessing. "Envoy Vireo. You are on time. Good." His voice was gravelly and all business. "Do you have everything you want to bring?"
"I... yes," Vireo said, indicating the small waterskin and pouch of dried meat he had taken.
Caracara walked over and inspected the pouch with a critical sniff. "I was expecting more preparation." He slightly tilted his head. "Well, I guess it'll do." He gestured with a claw. "Anyways, I am responsible for your safety, Envoy. That means you will follow my instructions to the letter. We fly high, we land only at secure locations, and we do not speak to unknown dragons. Understood?"
"Understood," Vireo replied, feeling like a clumsy hatchling being lectured. Hmm, this guy's kind of weird.
"Good," Caracara said, turning towards the open desert that stretched beyond the gate. "Inselberg is a full days' flight. Let's not waste daylight."
Without another word, the captain launched himself into the air. Vireo took one last desperate look back at the towers in his home city of Chert. The departure felt so sudden. With a powerful beat of his wings, he followed, flying east into the empty desert on a mission to hunt a shadow he himself seemingly had created. He still didn't know if this 'monolith stealer' even existed. And he had no clue of the supernatural abilities this mysterious figure had. His mother, the king, and the queen were all so vague on their explanations, it was absurd. All they told him was that a dragon could have 'supernatural abilities of science we don't understand that could wipe out a nation'. What does that even mean? His real worry was that they would find a way to control this special ability user by bribing them with a whole lot of money and nobility. Right now though, he had to focus on the task at hand.
The flight began in silence. The empty desert stretched out in every direction under the clear blue sky. Vireo flew slightly behind and to the side of the captain, the wind humming past his ear plates. The silence felt weird, and Vireo felt like he had to say something.
"So..." Vireo began, his voice sounding small in the open air. "Have you been to Inselberg a lot?"
Caracara didn't turn his head. "Several times," he replied with a low rumble. "On royal business."
"What's it like?" Vireo asked, curious.
"It's not on the coast, so hotter than here, if you can believe it," Caracara said. "And crowded."
Vireo was expecting more about the nation, but he didn't prod and stayed quiet. They flew on, the sun climbing higher and beating down on their scales. After a few hours, Caracara tilted a wing.
"Hungry?" he asked, looking back at Vireo.
"A little," he admitted.
"Below," the captain grunted, pointing downwards with his snout.
Vireo followed his gaze. A small herd of lumpy, brown camels was trekking slowly across the sand.
"Watch and learn, Envoy," Caracara said. He tucked his wings and dived, a reddish-brown blur against the tan sand. He was incredibly fast. He swooped over the panicked camels, plucked one from the herd with his powerful talons, and soared back up without even slowing down.
Vireo shortly followed, diving and grabbing another camel from the herd, although with a lot less grace and a lot more struggle than Caracara.
They landed on a flat, sun-baked rock and ate. The meat was tough, but it filled their stomachs. As they were finishing, a black speck appeared against the bright sky, flying towards them.
Caracara was on his feet in an instant, looking up at the strange thing in the air. "Night-Strider," he muttered, his eyes narrowing. "From one of the queendoms. They have no business this deep in Ventifact."
Vireo sighed. Great, he thought. Just like the trip to the island. Why can't we just fly somewhere without running into another dragon we have to worry about?
But Captain Caracara wasn't worried. He was annoyed. "Stay here," he commanded Vireo. With a powerful beat of his wings, he launched himself into the air to meet the stranger.
The two dragons circled each other. Caracara was bigger and stronger-looking, but the black dragon was sleek and angular.
"You are far from your lands," Caracara's voice boomed across the sand. "Explain yourself."
The black dragon looked terrified. His flight was wobbly. "I was hunting! In the foothills near my home, the Queendom of Veils! I swear!" he cried, his voice high and shaky. "A monster… a huge, terrible monster… it came out of the rocks! It chased me! I just flew as fast as I could!"
"The Queendom of Veil is to the north," Caracara said, his voice flat. He pointed with a claw. "Go home. Do not land on our sand again."
The Night-Strider practically fell over himself to obey, turning and flapping away as fast as he could. Caracara watched him go until he was just a tiny dot again. Then he flew back to Vireo and their half-eaten camel.
"You're just letting him go?" Vireo asked, surprised.
Caracara tore off another piece of meat. "He seemed genuinely scared," he grunted. "Finding a dead Night-Strider in our desert would mean answering questions from their Queen. That's a headache I do not need." He looked at Vireo, his green eyes serious.
They finished their meal and took to the sky again. The dunes of sand seemed infinite, and everything looked the same. There was no sign of civilization anymore. The intense heat of the day started to fade, replaced by a surprising desert chill that made Vireo pull his wings a little tighter. Vireo wondered if or when they had crossed the border between the two nations. But there was no reference.
Above, the sky turned to a dark, deep blue, and stars began to pop out, brighter and clearer than he had ever seen them from the city. They flew on in silence, the only sound the steady, rhythmic whoosh of their wings cutting through the night air. Vireo's muscles, already sore, began to burn with a dull, steady ache. This was a much harder flight than the one to the island. There were no breaks, no excited chatter, just the endless flapping with a strange and non-talkative royal soldier.
Just when Vireo felt like he couldn't flap another hundred times, Caracara's voice cut through the wind. "There."
Vireo followed the captain's gaze. On the dark horizon, there was a faint glow. As they flew closer, the glow grew, turning into the lights of a massive city. But this was nothing like Chert. The capital of Solifuge was built up and around a gigantic, mountain of rock that jutted straight out of the flat desert. Thousands of lights from torches and glowing crystals twinkled from windows and balconies carved right into the mountain's side, making it look like a giant, glittering beehive.
"We don't use the main gate," Caracara said, banking towards a darker, less lit part of the city. "Follow me closely."
They landed on a wide, flat platform hidden in the shadow of the great rock. A single dragon was waiting for them, leaning against a stone pillar. He was slender, with pale gold scales that seemed to catch the torchlight, and he had dark brown eyes.
"The sun is hot, but the shade is welcome," Caracara rumbled, the words sounding practiced.
The golden dragon smiled. "And the night brings cool sands," he replied smoothly. "Captain. Envoy." He gave Vireo a quick, assessing glance. "I am Fennec. Your rooms are ready. Follow me."
This was it. This was Inselberg. And this was it's capital, Solifuge, the heart of the nation's operations.