Maycor and Demaeter II
#33 of The Life and Times of Jarzyl Mintaka (Slice of Life Stories)
Jarzyl continues her attempt to take care of her young cousins. Atlas provides advice, support, wisdom, companionship, and also live music.
Here's another short slice of life story. More coming soon. 7,241 words
Atlas sat still in the middle of the room, and with steady motions the dragon fledgling flapped his wings back and forth. A slow, sombre melody emanated from the wing harp strapped atop his wings as each flap of his flight surfaces forced air through the musical instrument's tubes. This tune was dramatic and complex, at least for a relative novice, and Atlas had to maintain precise control over his flight control scales to ensure he created the right note with his wing harp.
Engrossed in his music, Atlas's gaze was focused on the booklet placed on the floor in front of him. His eyes darted across the pages, seeing the musical notation and reading it by subconscious skill. There was other movement in the room around him, but he ignored it.
A blur of colourful motion in Atlas's peripheral vision was his friend Jarzyl--she was a fledgling around the same size as him, but her scales were a bold, amber-orange colour that seemed warm to the sight, in sharp contrast to Atlas's own unobtrusive, sooty black scale colouration. Jarzyl was sprinting around, frantically chasing after the other two occupants of her bedroom.
Whereas Atlas and Jarzyl were both old enough to be straddling that loose boundary somewhere between childhood and adulthood, there were also two other younger dragons--not fledglings but hatchlings, who had, between them both, less than a couple of years out of the shell. They were Jarzyl's cousins, Maycor and Demaeter, whom she was supposed to be taking care of for the afternoon. The two hatchlings were far smaller than the fledglings, and they were nearly identical in appearance with a plain, tawny brown colour. Jarzyl was very much inexperienced with taking care of young children, though if there was one thing she knew, it was play.
As Atlas swept his wings back and forth to play his wing harp, the other three were scampering around the room, dashing around, over, or under furniture, and even jumping off the walls in a mad, playful pursuit. At one point Maycor came sprinting right towards the centre of the room where Atlas was sitting, with Jarzyl in hot pursuit. "Eeeeeeeee--ooh!" Chirping continuously, the tiny young dragon tried to alter course too late, and instead he just bounced off Atlas's side before continuing to run off in a different direction. Jarzyl also didn't change course--but instead of running head first into Atlas, she made a leap and gracefully jumped entirely over her friend, landing lightly on all four paws with barely any sound.
Atlas was a three-legged dragon. His left forelimb had been missing for as far back as he could recall memories, and even he did not know the exact cause of this disability. It rarely bothered him that he was different from every other dragon he knew, but sometimes he became acutely aware of his own limitations--his ability to run or jump was woeful compared to Jarzyl's speed or agility, though he never resented her for it. If anything, her graceful movements were something he admired.
And all things considered, a young dragon missing his foreleg didn't have it that bad. It would have been a far greater loss if he had been missing a wing and thus unable to fly, or even if he had been missing a hindleg because that would have made a takeoff jump very difficult. Being a dragon was not about walking--it was about flying, and Atlas was strong in the air. He had good wings, and with steady beats he continued to play his wing harp, filling the room with melody.
Instead of continuing to chase after her cousin, Jarzyl turned around and nudged Atlas's shoulder with her snout. "You're good at playing that."
Atlas acknowledged this remark with a bow of his head, and he kept playing. Standing beside him, Jarzyl unfurled her wings and flapped them, imitating his sweeping movements though she lacked the skill to play a wing harp. Demaeter also stopped her running to watch, but then Maycor tried to tackle her and the two hatchlings started an impromptu mock duel.
After he finished the next stanza of music, Atlas glanced over at his friend. "Do you want to try?" he offered.
Jarzyl looked briefly surprised, but then she nodded. "Sure! The last time I tried using a wing harp was... at least a year ago? No, it was two years ago. It was when they were giving us the option to pick our elective classes, and I was choosing between music and art class. They let me try using a smaller wing harp to see if I had any musical talent. I don't think I did. Not that I really have much artistic talent either, but smearing paint all over a canvas is more fun than practicing an instrument for hours."
Atlas could remember that week at school. "Hmm, I disagree. I much prefer the satisfaction of playing music over making a mess with paint. Here, try it and you'll see." He used his forepaw to unclip the buckles, then with a shrug and a twist of his wings, he unstrapped both halves of the wing harp and placed them down on the ground. He moved away so that Jarzyl could take his place, and she extended her wings.
Atlas helped Jarzyl strap both halves of the wing harp onto her wings. The female fledgling raised her wings, then she moved them about, getting used to the sudden added mass. "It's heavy."
"That wing harp they let us try during the first week of school last year? That was a toy harp. But this is a real instrument. The tubes and wires are made from metal," Atlas said.
Jarzyl's neck frill twitched. "Ok. It's heavy."
Atlas half held back a laugh. "Heh. It's not even full size. It's meant for fledglings or beginners."
Jarzyl glanced at him. "Should I... Is it easier if I try with one wing first, instead of both wings?"
"It's easier with both wings at once, otherwise your weight will be imbalanced. Ok, there." Atlas pulled the straps tight and took a step back.
Jarzyl jumped to her feet. She made a quick, excited flap of her wings, which made a hrdrumm noise from the wing harp. The discordant sound made Atlas wince, but Jarzyl grinned and her neck frill perked up. "Hehe. Real instrument or not, it sounds just as bad as when I was trying to use that toy harp." She did it again with even more enthusiasm, and the same hum was created with the same mix of disharmonic pitches, albeit louder. HRrrrddduuummm!
"Hold on, hold on." Standing behind his friend, Atlas quickly adjusted the wing harp's tension knobs. He extended a claw from his paw and slid it against the wing harp's metallic tubes, then he leaned over and tried blowing into the largest tube, which made a soft mellow note. "Try again now."
Making sure that she didn't slap her wing against Atlas's nose, Jarzyl made a gentle flap of her wings, and this time the sound that came from the wing harp was a bright, clear hum. Jarzyl was visibly impressed. "Oh, wow! Ok. That sounded much better that time."
Atlas nodded his head. This musical instrument was old and borrowed from school, but the faint spots of metallic corrosion on its resonator tubes just added layers to the harmonics. "It wasn't calibrated before, but now it should be."
"Thanks!" Jarzyl flapped her wings, and the same hum was produced over and over at the same pitch. Hum, hum, huuummm! "So how do I change the sound?"
Atlas tapped several spots on Jarzyl's wings, tracing out lines of her flight scales. Smooth, flat, roughly hexagonally-shaped scales covered most every part of a dragon's body, but over the wings these scale plates grew extra-large. Scales were anchored down on their forward edge and they could be partially raised up, allowing a dragon to use the large scales over their wings to control airflow and hence flight. "Ok. Basics--use these scales here to control the airflow into the wing harp. Using the dorsal lift dumpers gives better fine control, but it's easier to start out by using your ailerons as a beginner," Atlas said.
Jarzyl shivered slightly under his touch. "That tickles!"
Atlas let out an amused snort. "Hehe, ok. You need to feel the music, not just listen to it. When you're playing a wing harp, you have to feel the resonance in your wings, not just listen to it with your ears. The harp is half the instrument, and the other half is your wings."
"That sounds deep." Jarzyl turned her head to stare back at her wing, then with slow, deliberate effort she flipped up the flight scales Atlas had been touching. With her wings reconfigured she flapped again, which made a slightly higher pitched hum.
"You got it!" Atlas stood up and went to get his book of sheet music. "So that's the first two notes, here. And you're not playing the full chord either."
"Hahaha!" Jarzyl burst out into laughter when she looked over the rest of the dense, complex musical notation. "How do you remember all that? You need to remember all the different ways to adjust your flight scales, and then you switch between them so fast?"
"It just takes practice." Atlas waved his wings, rapidly shifting his flight scales between a myriad of configurations as if he was playing the musical instrument. "Playing a wing harp is just like flying. Imagine you're trying to manoeuvre through an aerial obstacle course, and there's a precise way you need to set your flight control scales to move through the air."
"How profound!" Jarzyl tried flapping her wings again, and she shifted between various flight configurations, which changed the pitch of the wing harp. There was no coherent melody, just a wild sequence of random notes.
Maycor and Demaeter briefly paused their hatchling tussle to turn their heads and watch, and their confused expressions made Atlas smile. Jarzyl wasn't playing music--she was just making noise, but she was certainly having fun doing it. Eventually she relented. "Ok, ok. This is why you're in music class and I'm not." Reaching up, Jarzyl unstrapped the wing harp from her shoulders and wings, and she put both pieces down on the ground.
She stepped away so that Atlas could step back into her place and pick up the wing harp again. "You could have taken music instead of art class. Or both. And you still can, if you really wanted to learn to play music," he said.
"I'm not sure I have the patience to learn the wing harp, and I don't regret my decisions." Jarzyl twirled on the spot, sweeping her wings in a wide circle. "I like listening to music, but I don't need to produce it. I have you for that."
Atlas said nothing, and instead he readjusted the wing harp to start playing again. He flipped his musical booklet to a different tune--slow but grandly elegant, with layered melodies overlapping each other.
Meanwhile, Jarzyl's two cousins had finished the play fight. Maycor scampered over and climbed up Jarzyl's back to perch on her shoulder. He used her flight harness for grip, clinging onto the straps. Demaeter also tried the same thing with Atlas, but the gusts of moving air generated by his slow wingbeats blew her off his shoulder. "Yah!" With an annoyed squeak the tiny young dragon tumbled through the air, but she managed to land on her feet and she instead went to climb up Jarzyl's back and sit on her other shoulder. Jarzyl shrugged her wings in a half-hearted attempt to push the two hatchlings off, but they resolutely clung on.
"I know this song." Jarzyl had her head cocked to the side, and her neck frill perked up. She hummed softly, then suddenly she started singing along. "Fly through the night...! I love to fly, through the night. Oh, if the sky can guuuuide you home..."
A flicker of surprise crossed Atlas's mind, but he kept playing the wing harp. He had learned to play this song as part of his music class at school, but he hadn't known there were lyrics to accompany it.
"...w_here we shall always roam! Mm, mmh,"_ Jarzyl sang, nodding her head to the slow beat_. "Fly through the night. Watch the sky all full of stars, the stars will guide us home!_" She harmonized her voice so well with the music that Atlas couldn't keep track of which notes he was trying to play, and he lost the melody entirely. His next series of notes came out completely wrong, and the grand, harmonic hum of the wind harp briefly turned to discordant sound before Atlas swiftly silenced the resonating pipes and internal strings with a flick of his wings.
Jarzyl still hummed out the next line, and then she made eye contact with Atlas and grinned. "Hmm, dumm, dnn... Hey, why'd you stop?"
"I... uh... got distracted and lost the tune." Atlas blinked, then he shook his head. "I didn't know this song had lyrics."
"Did you not? It's an old folk song. My father used to sing it to me as a lullaby when I was a little hatchling," Jarzyl explained.
Sitting on her shoulder, Maycor suddenly burst out into a melodic babble that sounded vaguely like Jarzyl's singing. "Roam, omm, wooommm! Star, arr, darr...!" Demaeter also hummed along, though both hatchlings were slightly off tune. The sight and sound still made Atlas smile.
Jarzyl glanced at her cousins. "Speaking of a lullaby, we'll have to get these two... uh... They're supposed to have a little mid-afternoon snack, they we have to... How do I phrase this without saying the word? We need to put those two into the state of restful, temporary unconsciousness which is normally associated with night time, except for nocturnal dragons like you, who do it in the day sometimes, and also hatchlings, who must do it both during the day and night due to their immaturity."
Atlas raised an eye ridge. "You mean sleep? A nap? Is it their naptime?"
"Eekk!" The moment Atlas said those words, Maycor leapt off Jarzyl's shoulder and scampered across the room. Demaeter hesitated for a moment, then she decided to follow after her brother--she carefully checked the distance to the ground, then with an uncoordinated flutter of her wings she jumped down from Jarzyl's shoulder. The two young, brown-scaled hatchlings were gone in a flash, sprinting out of the bedroom door at high speed. Maycor was running so fast that his claws skidded against the ground and he bumped against the adjacent wall before turning to run down the corridor. Demaeter followed after him, with wings spread open for balance.
"Gah! You said the word. Maycor doesn't like to nap, unless he is already napping, then he hates being woken up. Demaeter's not so bad, but she just follows his example. Children are such pests!" Jarzyl grumbled. Shifting smoothly into a stand, she moved to chase after her cousins, then she stopped and turned around. "Hey, play me some music, would you? Not that same song, though."
Atlas had been resting the wing harp against the ground, but now he lifted up his wings again. "You have a request?"
Jarzyl nodded. "Can you play something fast? I need some action music! Something exciting for a chase!"
Atlas considered this for a moment, then he flipped to a different page in his book of sheet music. He briefly used his forepaw to twist the knobs of his wing harp to adjust its tuning, then with no further comment he started to play. Whereas his last song had been grand and elegant, this next musical piece was simple and cheery. There was far less complexity in the notes to be played, but that allowed Atlas to speed up his wingbeats and the tune.
"Yeah!" Jarzyl bobbed her head and rocked her whole body in time with the rhythm, then she sprung upwards and did a vertical somersault in a sudden display of agility which Atlas knew he couldn't possibly match. "Time to catch those two pests."
Before Jarzyl could even do anything, Maycor suddenly came sprinting back into the room, apparently summoned by the music, or perhaps by the idea that Atlas and Jarzyl might be having fun without him. The young hatchling tried nipping at the tip of Jarzyl's tail, which made her spin around instantly. "You dare challenge me?!" Jarzyl exclaimed, but she was grinning and her neck frill was raised.
"Eek! Yahh!" Maycor squeaked in surprise, and then he raised his own neck frill and flared out his wings, trying to look big. He wasn't big at all. "Mmmrrrrr!" growled the tiny hatchling, making a rumbly noise sounded like a purr.
"Grrrahh!" Jarzyl growled back, making a deeper, more resonant noise that was less like a purr and more like a draconic roar, though still not quite there yet. She unfurled one of her wings and swung it down, creating a gust of wind that caught her cousin's outstretched wings and knocked him right over without even physically touching him.
Thus defeated, Maycor turned tail and ran, squeaking loudly with mock outrage. "Eeekkk! Eeek!" He was playing around and Jarzyl chased him around her bedroom.
Demaeter had also peeked her head around the bedroom doorway, though she cautiously ducked back whenever Jarzyl or Maycor came sprinting around the room. Demaeter was almost a year younger than her brother, but she was roughly the same size as him because her egg had been much larger than his. Though very young, both hatchlings already showed differing personalities.
Atlas kept playing his music. The tune was short and simple, but he repeated it over and over, letting the melody flow. The speed and energy of the piece reminded him of flying at high speed--rolling left and right to weave his way between buildings, rocking to counter wind shear, diving and climbing sharply as he maintained momentum. The strain in his wings muscles from having to play his wing harp only added to that mental image. Atlas tapped his tail to the beat, thumping it against the floor behind him--this drew the attention of Demaeter, and with an enthusiastic, adorable growl she sprinted into the room to scamper around Atlas and bat at his tail before trying to pin it down. "Grr!" The hatchling was too light to hold his tail down, even with her full body weight, and she instead ended bounced up and down as Atlas kept tapping his tail. "RrrRRRrrrRRRrrrRRR!" Her soft growl went up and down in pitch with each beat as she rode Atlas's tail.
Meanwhile, perhaps inspired by the quick pace of the music, Jarzyl had finally managed to catch Maycor. Sliding her paws smoothly, twirling around, and even shuffling backwards, Jarzyl danced her way towards Atlas. She was carrying Maycor by biting on his tail, letting her cousin hang inverted from her jaws with his four legs and wings dangling. He didn't seem to mind, and in fact appeared to enjoy the experience, waving his limbs to the beat of the music.
Jarzyl sat back on her haunches and opened her jaws, letting Maycor drop to the ground. The young hatchling instinctively threw open his wings and managed to flip himself to land on all four paws, but then Jarzyl's much larger paw came right down on his back, holding him down before he could run off again. "Got him!" Jarzyl proudly declared, with a wide grin and with her neck frill perked up.
"Don't be rough with hatchlings," Atlas warned her, even while still playing his wing harp. "You're much bigger and stronger than your cousin. You can injure him easily if you're not careful."
"I am being _extremely_gentle and careful," Jarzyl assured him. Using her paw, Jarzyl grabbed Maycor by his tail and lifted him off the ground again, which made him stop struggling. "You're fine, right?"
Turning his neck so that his head was right side up, Maycor made eye contact with the much larger fledgling, then he raised his neck frill and stuck his tongue out at her. "Yaryil! Yarz."
"Yes, that's my name. Jarzyl. And yours is Maycor," Jarzyl replied.
Demaeter gave up on trying to hold Atlas's tail, and she scampered over to stare up at her brother, who was still dangling from Jarzyl's grip. Maycor turned his head to glance down at his sister.
Atlas chuckled, and he finished playing the tune one last time before letting the music come to a fading stop. As the rich melodious sound gave way to silence, Jarzyl thumped her tail on the ground--not to any beat, but now in an applauding manner. "Well done!" she commended him.
"Welldun!" Demaeter squeaked, and she also tried tapping her tail against the ground to imitate Jarzyl. The young hatchling used too much effort, and she flipped herself onto her side from the force of thwacking her tail against the ground. "Welldon," she repeated. With a quick motion she flipped herself back upright, then she pointed her paw at her brother. "Maycor!"
"Mm Maycor," Maycor agreed. He stuck his tongue out at his sister. "Bluurgh. Demter." Then he glanced up at his cousin and stuck his tongue at her too. "Blurgh, Jaryil."
"Jarzyl. Zil," Jarzyl corrected him. "More than a year of trying, and you still can't say my name correctly."
"Jarz!" Demaeter decided. Then she stared up at Atlas. "Attas?"
"Noooo." Maycor waved his wing about and managed to slap his sister on the back of her head. She didn't seem to mind. "Atlus," Maycor corrected her.
Demaeter waved her own wings and slapped back at Maycor, making him swing about as he dangled by his tail. "Atlas? Atlas!" Demaeter cheerfully tried.
"Oh, she learns how to say your name in an afternoon, but Maycor keeps calling me Yaryil no matter how much I correct him? That's fair," Jarzyl muttered.
Atlas ignored Jarzyl's snark. "That's right. My name is Atlas." He trotted over and used his forepaw to affectionately pat at Demaeter's head and ruffle her neck frill. "Who's the smart little hatchling? It's you. Yes you are. You know everyone's name. So smart of you."
"Rrrr..." Demaeter made a soft purr, and she leaned against Atlas's paw. "Atlas. Yaryil. Maycur. Demm. Mmmrrr!"
The four young dragons made their way to the kitchen. Jarzyl carried Maycor by his tail, letting him dangle from her jaws.
"Jarz, carry him by the scruff, not the tail..." Atlas said to her.
"Mmh? But this works!" Jarzyl replied, with her words slightly muffled by having to bite on Maycor's tail.
"It's not hard to do it correctly." Atlas sat back on his haunches and grabbed Demaeter, who had been keeping a quick trot to stick right beside him. The proper way to carry a hatchling was to hold them by the scruff--the area right behind their neck and between the wings, where the skin and scales was slightly thicker than elsewhere. Atlas demonstrated exactly that, using his jaws to pick up Demaeter by her scruff. "See? Less dangling about. Hatchlings are meant to be carried by their scruff. Gently."
"Genty!" babbled Demaeter, but she remained calm, dangling from Atlas's jaws. Pinching pressure on the scruff induced a mild paralysis reflex that made hatchlings easy to carry.
Atlas glanced at Jarzyl to make sure she got the idea, then he gently put Demaeter down. "It's more convenient to carry hatchlings by their scruff, or just by letting them ride on your shoulder." With his paw, Atlas grabbed Demaeter and lifted her up to her shoulder. She eagerly jumped on, wrapping her tail around his neck for balance, and she affectionately bumped her little snout against his chin in thanks.
Jarzyl's eyes narrowed as she considered this. "I'm not letting Maycor sit on my shoulder, but that's a good point about the scruff thing." Maycor was still dangling by his tail from her jaws. Jarzyl released his tail and let him drop, before she snatched him out of the air with her paws, flipped him around, then tried biting him by the scruff to carry him the right way up.
"Woah!" Maycor chirped excitedly as he was suddenly flipped around. He was briefly motionless, then he started waving his wings and pedalling all four legs. "Wheeeeee!"
"This is a more convenient method of child transport, you said?" Jarzyl drily muttered, as Maycor flailed about frantically.
"Clearly you are doing it wrong." Atlas strolled up to Jarzyl and gestured with his paw. Sitting on his shoulder, Demaeter imitated him and waved her paw at Jarzyl. "Make sure you're actually biting his scruff, not just grabbing him by the neck."
Holding Maycor with her paws, Jarzyl released her jaws, moved her head, then tried again. "Here?" she asked with muffled voice. Maycor was still for a moment, then he started struggling once more. "Maybe Maycor's already outgrown the scuffing reflex. Why don't you try?"
Jarzyl grabbed Maycor with her forepaws and passed him to Atlas, who promptly tried carrying the young hatchling by his scruff. "Meeeeep." Maycor squeaked, but this time his muscles froze up and he went completely calm. Atlas waited a moment, looking down at Maycor to see if he was going to start struggling, then he glanced up at Jarzyl.
Jarzyl's neck frill drooped flat against her neck. "Hmm. Maycor's just biased against me. He has... we have a whole extended family, and I don't know why I keep getting dragged in to take care of these two pests. Next time I'm getting some other cousin or clanmate to do this."
Atlas held back a chuckle. He put Maycor down and gave him an affectionate lick on the neck which got a rumbly, pleased noise in response. "Hmmr..."
Still seated on Atlas's shoulder, Demaeter used her tiny paw to tap repeatedly at Atlas's neck and she stretched out her own neck until he gave her an affectionate lick too. "Yay...!" murmured the hatchling. Jarzyl's eyes narrowed again, in a subtle expression that might just have been jealousy.
Atlas nodded towards Jarzyl. "It's not hard. Just carry him properly." He stood up and let Jarzyl try to pick Maycor up again, yet she still couldn't get it right. Maycor excitedly kicked his legs and waved his wings as Jarzyl tried to carry him. "Lower. The scruff is lower. You're just biting his neck, not his scruff."
"This is very unintuitive! I have zero parental instincts and am extremely untalented with taking care of hatchlings! They don't teach any of this in school," Jarzyl grumbled, with exaggerated frustration.
This time Atlas couldn't hold back his laugh. "Hahaha. This isn't hard. This is not the hard part of parenting at all, Jarz. Just carry your cousin by the scruff. Lower. Lower... Ok, now that's too far. Higher."
Jarzyl glared at Atlas, while Maycor waved his paws. "Where? Can you show me?" Jarzyl asked.
"I did show you. I literally just showed you how to do it." Atlas moved closer and gestured again. "Just... just..." He gestured towards Maycor, then he stepped behind Jarzyl and tapped at the appropriate location at the base of her neck and between her wings. "Here." To demonstrate, Atlas tried nipping Jarzyl on her scruff, giving her a gently bite at the right spot.
A shudder went down Jarzyl's spine and she froze up, gasping softly. "Oohh..." Atlas released her after a split second, but Jarzyl still shivered all over and tapped her paws against the ground. She gave him an oddly intense look that he couldn't quite decipher, before suddenly seeming embarrassed and glancing away. "Ngggh... How come that still works on me? I thought the scruff reflex is only for young hatchlings?"
Atlas shrugged his wings. "I don't know. You tell me."
"I don't know either." Jarzyl tried picking Maycor up a few more times, but he kept struggling, so simply ended up carrying him by the tail again. He seemed most calm when hanging inverted. "This is the easiest way. Maybe he just likes to be a bat," Jarzyl muttered. Then she continued heading to the kitchen, with Atlas following behind her.
"Didn't we already feed your cousins earlier?" Atlas asked. Maycor and Demaeter were sitting on his shoulders, and the three of them were watching Jarzyl as she moved around the kitchen.
"That was just a snack. They do actually need to have a proper meal, then we get them showered up, then nap time," Jarzyl replied. At the mention of naptime Maycor shifted his posture as if he was about to leap off Atlas's shoulder and scamper away, but Jarzyl flicked her tail dismissively in their general direction. "Yes, I said it. Naptime. You can run off to try and avoid it, but then you don't get to eat. No food for you if you run off!"
Maycor appeared to get the general message and he sat back down on Atlas's shoulder, though he did grumble to the fledgling and Demaeter. "Nggrhh. Oodz. No nap."
Meanwhile, Jarzyl pushed the cover off from her kitchen's icebox and took out a small metal pot with a lid. She put it down on the countertop and lifted the pot's lid, revealing a thick, brownish stew that was cold but had already been cooked. "Hmm."
"What's that?" Atlas asked.
"Some sort of... I think it's a grain stew with chunk of vegetables and meat of some kind. Or possibly pasta. I don't know." Jarzyl sniffed at the stew, then she dipped the tip of her tail into the pot before licking it. "Hmm. Could be breakhorn meat. Anyway, my father prepared this food as an afternoon meal for these two pests before he went off for the clan meeting. We just need to get this stew heated up."
"What can I do to help?" Atlas offered, but Jarzyl shook her head.
"I got this. You just keep Maycor and Demmy occupied while I warm up their food." Jarzyl reared up on her hindlegs to reach for the kitchen's top shelf, from which she took a small reddish chunk of crystal that fit neatly in her paw. She peered at the crystal and then held it tight--for a long moment the young dragon closed her eyes and appeared to be concentrating, then she opened her eyes and her jaws. "Huuuh!" She raised the pot and exhaled towards its metal bottom, but this has no visible effect.
Atlas watched this whole incident without any comment. He knew what Jarzyl was trying to do, though he wasn't surprised she hadn't succeeded. Both him and her were fledglings--young dragons able to fly, growing very quickly to full size, and arguably on the cusp of maturity. There were many different definitions for adulthood, but perhaps the most significant was the ability to use magic. Every adult drakken had an innate affinity towards using a certain type of magic (or two), but the advancements of technological civilization allowed certain conveniences to be shared. In ancient prehistory, cooking would have been reserved as a task for dragons who had flame affinity and could use firebreath, but now many types of magic were available through technology, albeit with limits.
The small red gemstone chunk was an energy crystal, and this one had been grown and cut specifically to optimize its crystalline lattices for storing flame magic. It provided fire on demand, charged by dragons with flame affinity and intended for use by those who had other magical affinities, or even for fledglings like Atlas and Jarzyl who were too young to use any magic at all. The simple (and reasonable) way to use a fire crystal was to strike it against a surface, which would produce a shower of sparks for lighting some other object on fire. Alternatively, cracking the crystal would make it burst into steady flames for a modest duration of time as the stored energy was released.
However, there was another way to use an energy crystal. A dragon could instead let that stored magic flow out from the crystal and infuse into their body, granting them limited but direct access to certain types of magic. This didn't work with all variants of magic, but it worked with flame magic. By holding onto a fire crystal, and with enough force of will and practice, it was possible for a dragon to channel that energy through their body and use firebreath for a brief moment.
Atlas watched as Jarzyl tried again. His friend certainly had force of will, but she had no practice, and they were both still fledglings--sooner or later they would have their own innate magic, but for now even the act of drawing power from energy crystals was beyond them both.
Jarzyl's neck frill drooped slightly from disappointment, but she didn't seem surprised at all. "I keep wishing I could breathe fire. It should be... any week now we get our magic. I can't wait."
Atlas dipped his head in an agreeable nod. "It could be soon. Maybe tomorrow you'll wake up with the ability to shift rocks through mind and magic. Or maybe tomorrow I'll be freezing things with my breath. Or maybe that's still months, or even years away."
"It can't be years away! I don't have the patience for that." Jarzyl shook her head, then she glanced down at the fire crystal she was still holding. "Do you want to try infusing this crystal? Maybe you can use firebreath."
"No thanks. You just use the stove the normal way," Atlas replied.
With a casual shrug Jarzyl tossed the crystal into its slot on the stove, then she moved the lidded pot and dropped it down onto the crystal, which created a sharp _crack_and a flash of light. Flames started flowing out of the crystal, spreading out over the stove top and then licking upwards at the pot of stew. Jarzyl nodded approvingly, looked pleased with herself. "There we go. Just a few minutes and it'll be all warm." She sat back on her haunches and grabbed a nearby spoon to occasionally stir the brownish stew in the pot.
"Good job." Atlas was content to wait, as was Demaeter, but Maycor seemed more bored. The male hatchling tapped his paw against Atlas's neck, and then he pointed across the room. Atlas obligingly got to his feet and strolled across the kitchen, moving around the dining table and then coming towards the balcony.
The balcony doors were shut, but they were unlocked and Atlas pushed them open with a firm shove of his wings. A gust of cool wind rushed through the kitchen. Various cooking utensils such as a grater and a ladle were hanging from hooks on the wall, and they clanked softly against each other as the moving air swept through the room.
Atlas was unmoved by the wind, but Demaeter and Maycor both crouched lower on his shoulders and closer to his neck. The wind calmed down quickly, dropping to a gentle, fresh breeze. Demaeter remained on Atlas's shoulder, but Maycor jumped down and trotted out onto the balcony.
"Hey!" Jarzyl was still stirring the stew pot as it warmed on the stove, but she exclaimed and gestured at Maycor. "Don't let him--!"
"I got it." Atlas was right behind Maycor, close enough to snatch him up if needed. Maycor cautiously took one step at a time on the balcony, before coming to a stop a good whole body length away from the edge. Drakken architecture did not include railings, for a simple reason--balconies were entryways, allowing dragons to land and takeoff directly from any level of a building. There was no worry of falling, for open air was their natural domain.
Stepping out onto the balcony, Atlas drew a deep breath and took in the wide, open world all around. The City of Wings was a compact urban landscape filled with skyscrapers of gleaming glass, polished shiny steel, and smoothed stone. Colour was everywhere too, with flags and banners flapping from every building, indicating local wind direction as well as clan affiliation. A flag dangled from the balcony--it was over the edge so Atlas couldn't see the full design, but he knew what it was. That flag was adorned with the insignia of Mintaka--the clan that Jarzyl belonged to, as did her parents, her aunt and uncle, and even her two hatchling cousins. That flag was a proud declaration of ownership, stating that this home belonging to clan Mintaka as it flapped gently in the breeze.
Lying flat on his belly, Maycor slowly crept forward until he could peer over the balcony edge. Atlas stayed close, but Maycor was just looking to check out the view. Jarzyl lived with her parents at the edge of a city sector, meaning that over the balcony was empty space. If you looked downwards from a building in the middle of a city sector, the sight would be of nearby buildings or the open streets below. But if you peered down from the edge of the city sector, you saw the greater truth--the streets of the city were not the ground, and below them was not soil but more sky. Avaeria was the City of Wings--an airborne flying city built and inhabited exclusively by dragons. Each sector of the city was interconnected by massive struts and interlinking bridges, but there were occasional gaps where it was possible to look down and see the true ground much further down.
"Woah," Maycor murmured.
Atlas strolled up to the edge and looked over too. Demaeter snuck a peek, but the sight of so much distance made her hug against Atlas's neck, and he could feel her tiny claws pricking his scales as she held on tight to the straps of his flight harness. "Sky!"
"Yes, that's the sky. We're in the sky, but that's the ground down below." Even as Atlas watched, the distant sight of forest green far below them was slowly obscured by layers of clouds billowing by in the wind. A thick mass of grey clouds was already covering the sky up above, and now the city was large surrounded by clouds both above and below.
But clouds were far from the only thing moving through the air. Flying through the airspace at various altitudes, dragons were making their way from point to point, with scales colours of every hue and shade. Seeing other dragons in the air made Atlas suddenly feel like taking to the sky, and he apparently wasn't the only one.
"Fly?" Maycor asked, and he glanced at Atlas and fluttered his wings. Hatchlings lacked the muscle strength or wingspan to take flight, but they weren't strangers to the sky. They were carried around for place to place by their parents or guardians.
Atlas considered the request. The clouds were grey, but they weren't thick enough to fully encapsulate the city and make flight difficult. It wasn't a storm yet, or Avaeria's shield grid would be activated to harvest lightning. Instead the air was cool and humid--it was autumn weather.
Unthinkably complex and powerful magic kept the City of Wings aloft, and its course was carefully planned and determined. The city roamed through the sky above the wide realms of drakken-controlled territory, moving between grounded colonies to pick up resources from mines, farms, and other such places, while also chasing after storms to gather the energy of lightning bolts. Though the exact course and timings varied every year, there was always a plan and a schedule, and there was seasonality. This time of year, Avaeria was moving towards a mountainous region, and its increased altitude made the air colder and thinner.
Movement behind him made Atlas turn his head, and he saw Jarzyl stroll out and sit on the balcony next to him. "The food's hot and ready. The fire's gone out and I've finished stirring," she reported.
"Alright, that's good," Atlas said.
Maycor waved his wings at the two older fledglings. "Fly?" asked the young hatchling.
Atlas nodded towards Maycor. "Maycor wants to go for a flight."
"He can want lots of things, but that doesn't mean he'll get them," Jarzyl drily replied, but then she noticed Atlas's expression. "Wait, you actually want to do it?"
Atlas shrugged. Sitting on his shoulder, Demaeter tried to imitate the gesture, shrugging her own tiny wings. "Yeah, why not?" Atlas said. "I like flying. You like flying. Why not take your cousins for a flight?"
Jarzyl opened and closed her mouth a few times as she thought about this, and her neck frill fluttered slightly in the breeze. "I suppose... I've never flown with Maycor before, but I guess I could? I certainly remember my parents taking me for flights when I was a hatchling. Ok, sure, let's take these two for a flight. If they're not already tired out from all the play earlier, a flight should do the job."
"Fly!" Maycor repeated, and he waved his wings for emphasis.
Atlas leaned down and peered at Maycor. "Maycor, say please. Can we go fly, please?"
"Can we go fly, plis?" Maycor tried.
"Fly!" Demaeter agreed, and she secured her position on Atlas's shoulder.
"Ok, sure." Atlas patted Maycor on his back, and then he nodded to Jarzyl. "You take Maycor, I'll take Demaeter?"
"Sounds good to me." Jarzyl glanced back into the kitchen. "How do we do this? I don't think Maycor and Demaeter brought their flight harnesses over to my house." The amber-scaled fledgling gestured to her own flight harness--a grid of belts and pouches that she was wearing to help her carry objects. "So we can't tether them to our harnesses. Or maybe I could carry him in a pouch." Jarzyl glanced down at one of the pouches strapped to her side, clearly wondering if Maycor would fit inside.
Atlas chuckled. "Or you could just let him ride on your back and fly carefully. It's only going to be a short flight, after all."
Jarzyl clipped her pouch shut again. "Good point. That's probably the easiest. I just... I didn't think of that for some reason."
"Just don't drop him."
"I won't. Or if I will, I'll catch him." Strolling forward, Jarzyl picked Maycor up to let him sit on her shoulder, then she nudged him towards the middle so he was right behind her neck.
"Yay! Fly!" The brown-scaled male hatchling grabbed onto the flight harness strap that was running across Jarzyl's upper back, and he waved his wings before furling them up against his back. "Fly! Fly, ples?"
"Don't expect this every time I babysit you," Jarzyl muttered, and then she stepped off the balcony and dropped into open air.
"Aaahhhhh!" yelled Maycor, with a mix of surprise, terror, and elation. His voice trailed off quickly as Jarzyl flew away, moving through the inter-sector airspace before making a wide turn and beating her wings to gain altitude.
"You want to fly too?" Atlas asked Demaeter. The tiny hatchling clutched tight against his neck and nodded her head at him. "I thought so. Hang on tight, Demmy." Spreading his wings, Atlas leapt off the balcony and flew after Jarzyl.
END