City Sector Uplift part 1
#53 of The Life and Times of Jarzyl Mintaka (Slice of Life Stories)
Atlas comes to Jarzyl's home early in the morning for a special event
Here's another series of slice-of-life, flying city, dragon adventure stories, featuring Jarzyl and Atlas once again.
Synopsis: Big changes are coming to the City of Wings, as a huge new sector has been built by Clan Mintaka and is to be added to the flying city. Jarzyl is going to watch the new sector be launched, and Atlas has been invited to join her.
It was early in the morning, before even the faintest traces of dawn had started to light the sky. Atlas's night eyes let him fly through the dark with ease, not that the City of Wings was ever truly dark. Navigational lights adorned all the buildings and streets to keep the airways illuminated, providing enough brightness that even diurnal dragons could fly at night, let alone a nocturnal dragon fledgling who knew his way around.
With silent flaps of his wings, Atlas swooped between two residential apartment towers before entering a gliding descent. His destination for this morning was a neighbourhood near the edge of sector one. The airspace around was as quiet and calm as it ever got for the city's central sector, though he could clearly see several other dragons flapping their way around in the cool, dark, early morning sky.
At the edge of sector one, there was a gap between the city sector and this adjacent region, sector five. From up above, the space between sectors resembled an artificial canyon of intricate metal and smoothly polished stone. Bright city lights marked out the straight, vertical edges of both sectors, but in the middle was nothing but inky blackness. Even with his nocturnal eyes, Atlas found it difficult to see the true ground far, far below.
Though the young fledgling drake was flying at a low altitude over streets and buildings, the City of Wings was itself flying high in the sky. Avaeria, the drakken capital city, was a monument to their mastery over magic and technology, for no other sapient species could have hoped to build such an immense airborne megastructure--or perhaps it was simply an obvious symbol of how much dragons loved flying, enough that even their home had to always be in the sky.
Out of the many residences that made up this neighbourhood, the ones right at the edge of the sector border had balconies that extended outwards into the sector gap, meant for occupants and visitors to arrive and depart. Coming in for final approach, Atlas set his flight scales to a landing configuration, and he could feel the air tugging against his wings as he slowed even further.
With a flutter of his wings, Atlas touched down on the balcony of one specific house. His momentum caused him to take a small hop forward, slightly awkwardly, for Atlas was a three-legged dragon missing his left foreleg--but it had been a couple of years since he'd started going through the fledgling growth spurt and first learned how to fly, so he was well practiced with making landings by now.
The stone surface of the balcony was smooth and cold against his paws--even with the morning condensation, his claws gave him grip. The balcony doors had large glass windows, but curtains were partially drawn across them, obscuring views of the interior. Warm diffuse light spilled through those drawn curtains, supplementing a pair of small spotlights that lit up the balcony ledge. From inside the house came the faint sound of crowded chatter, and even through the translucent curtains, silhouetted shapes could be seen standing or strolling about the living room.
But Atlas had barely even folded up his wings when there was a flash of magic and a whirl of motion, and in an instant, he was no longer alone on the balcony.
The swirling, colourful sphere of magic dissipated in a split second, revealing another dragon standing between Atlas and the balcony doors. It was a young drakka no more than a few years older than him, but she was old enough to be unquestionable an adult dragon, whereas Atlas was still straddling the murky boundary between adolescent fledgling and mature drake. The drakka was a nocturnal just like Atlas and she had scales of dark grey, nearly as dark as Atlas's own sooty black colouration. She was of average size for an adult dragon, though this still made her bigger than Atlas by around a quarter.
The drakka was wearing a neat and impeccably trimmed flight harness, while the pennants tied around her wingtips clearly displayed the insignia of Clan Mintaka--by comparison Atlas's flight harness was worn out and barely even fit him, as it was sized for a younger fledgling, and his own pennants were a plain black colour with no clan insignia.
However, the most striking component of this drakka's appearance was her weapons. A pair of sharp, thick blades were strapped over the forward edge of both her wings, right against the leading edge. A dragon's wing muscles were the strongest in their body--meant to carry their entire weight in flight--so a blow with the wings was already powerful, but those blades turned a blunt force strike into a cutting slice. Even with her wings folded, those blades glinted faintly in the dim light, catching the eye and serving a warning. Atlas instinctively glanced down at the drakka's paws to see if her claws were extended--they weren't, but her posture was jumpy and alert, as if ready to attack or defend at any moment.
The drakka stared at Atlas, with her expression completely flat. "Identify yourself please."
"I... I was..." Atlas leaned back and glanced to the side, to check the house number painted on the wall beside the balcony. He was at the right address. "Atlas. I'm Atlas. I was supposed to meet a friend this morning. She lives here."
The drakka gave him a suspicious look with eyes squinted and neck crest flattened, but at this moment the curtains were pulled open, and then another drakka shoved open the balcony doors and came strolling leisurely out. Older and calmer, with scales of an azure shade, this new arrival Atlas did recognize--Zilarin Mintaka, a senior healer in the Avaerian medical centre, and the mother of Jarzyl Mintaka.
Zilarin looked mildly surprised to see him. "Oh, it's you!" she muttered, in a curt but not unaffectionate manner. Zilarin turned to the younger drakka with the wing blades. "Relax. He's a friend of my daughter."
The young drakka did not relax. She still looked tense and ready to jump, like a spring bound with energy just waiting to be released. "Drak Zilarin. Is he on the approved visitor list, then?"
"Probably not, but I can vouch for his character, and this is still my house." Zilarin lazily shrugged her wings. She certainly wasn't wearing wing blades or any sort of weaponry or armour, yet through sheer self-assurance Zilarin managed to project an aura of confidence that was even more forceful than the younger drakka. "As much as I do appreciate your security, I don't think a friendly three-legged fledgling is going to be a threat."
The drakka gave Atlas another suspicious, stern look, but then she dipped her head in a short bow towards Zilarin. "As you say, drak." Tilting her head towards her other shoulder, she spoke quietly into a bulky radio set that was strapped to her flight harness. "Prowl-two. No issue. Returning to patrol." There was another flash of magic and motion, and suddenly the drakka was gone again. Atlas glanced around, but he couldn't see where the drakka had teleported too. In through the open balcony doors, across to somewhere on the adjacent sector edge, or even somewhere up into the dark sky high overhead--wherever she was, she was presumably still watching him from afar. Idly, Atlas also wondered how many other eyes were watching, for there was no way a security team comprised of only one dragon, especially for such a powerful clan as Mintaka.
Half suppressing a yawn, Zilarin unhurriedly strolled out onto the balcony and sat down right on the ledge edge. "Sorry about the harsh welcome. We have some... visitors over right now, for a little get-together."
"No problem, drak. Uh, good morning." Atlas bowed his head in a quick but respectful motion. It was very early in the morning, hours before sunrise, and while nocturnal dragons like him frequently roamed in both the day and the night, diurnal dragons made up the majority of the population and they would not normally be up and about at this predawn time. But then again, today was not a normal day. "Visitors?" inquired the three-legged fledgling politely.
Zilarin stared out over the dark expanse between city sectors, and her eyes darted over the countless building lights on the opposite sector. "Yes, visitors. Some clanmates, and colleagues of my mate, here for the same reason as you. I assume Jarzyl invited you to watch the launch?"
Atlas nodded again. "Yes."
Zilarin snorted faintly. "Hah. She never mentioned that to me. But it's good for her to have some company through the day. She would get bored just sitting around with us all the time, I think."
Through the partially open balcony doors, Atlas could hear faint chatter from within the house. Inside he caught a glimpse of the living room, warmly lit and elegantly decorated, containing a small crowd of dragons who were mingling about, chatting, playing games with cards and coins, and picking at pastries and other breakfast food placed around at tables. While there were some fledglings like him, and even a couple of hatchlings sitting on their parent's shoulders (Atlas's recognized the young, tiny dragons as Jarzyl's cousins), most of the assembled were adult drakken. Despite the sociable atmosphere, everyone was immaculately dressed wearing neatly fitted flight harnesses, tail ribbons, wing pennants, or other accessories that spoke of class and status, and everywhere was the insignia of Clan Mintaka.
Atlas had meticulously scrubbed his flight harness clean, and taken the time to carefully trim away any loose fraying threads from the straps, but his appearance was still plain by comparison. He was wearing a pair of pennant flags tied around his wingtips, shaded a plain dark grey to go with his sooty black scales--however he did not have the right to wear any clan insignia, especially not that of an apex clan like Mintaka.
Zilarin was sitting back on her haunches at the edge of the balcony, with her tail curled forward to leisurely dangle its tip off the ledge. She was wearing Mintaka wingtip pennants, dyed a warm yellowish colour that contrasted well against her azure blue scales. Her flight harness wasn't some new, fashionable model that boasted of wealth, but instead the straps and pouches were a faded shade of reddish maroon--it was an attire that only healers wore, earned through hardship in one of Avaeria's medical centres.
Casually beckoning with a forepaw, Zilarin waved him closer. "Come here, I'll check you." Atlas obediently strolled over, and Zilarin placed her paw against the side of his neck. Her touch was warm and firm, yet gentle, then Atlas felt a distinct tingle at the point of contact as a flurry of magical sparks spilled from the drakka's paw. Tiny bright sparks of arcane power weaved between the tessellating lines of his scale plates before sinking into his flesh, and the young fledgling instinctively drew a deep breath as his heartbeats quickened. The healing magic flowed through his body, instantly wiping away any faint tiredness from his recent flight and replacing it with a sense of wellness and strength.
"Your hearts are strong. Body mass is a bit lean, but that's common amongst fledglings who are still growing. Overall you're completely healthy." Zilarin held her paw against Atlas's neck for a few seconds before she withdrew her touch and her power.
Glancing down over himself, Atlas watched as the lingering magical sparks quickly faded away and dissipated. The general sensation of wellbeing persisted, however, though just for a split second the three-legged fledgling also felt a faint tingle from below his left shoulder, echoing from the limb that should have been there but was not. Even with all the capabilities of modern medicine and the great skill of healers like Zilarin, there were still some injuries that could not be undone. Atlas had, as far as he could remember, lived all his life missing a forelimb, and he had long ago made his peace with this aspect in which he was different. "Thank you, drak," he said politely.
Zilarin acknowledge his thanks with a brisk nod of her head. "Be well."
At that moment, the two of them were joined by a drake who had scales of a warm, golden yellow colour, who had a long neck frill and a medium build. His scales were the exact same shade of yellow as the wing pennants that Zilarin was wearing, and he too was wearing pennants that were azure coloured to match hers--it was an old but enduring tradition for a drakken mated pair to wear each other's colours on their wingtips.
Galon Mintaka carried a woven basket with its handle resting around his neck. As he strolled out onto the balcony, he smiled warmly at Atlas with his neck frill perking slightly. "Atlas! Good morning."
"Good morning, drak," Atlas replied, bowing his head.
"Momentous day today!" Galon went over to Zilarin, and the two mates shared an affectionate nuzzle, briefly bumping their snouts together. Galon then sat back on his haunches and unslung the basket from around his neck, which Atlas could now see was filled with various baked goods. "May I interest either of you in bread?" He offered the basket to Zilarin, and she snagged a minced meat puff. Galon then offered the basket towards Atlas, who also took a pastry which turned out to be a bread roll with a filling of caramelized apple chunks.
"It gladdens me to see you. You're right on time, though I don't know if Jarzyl is even awake yet. I tried to wake her up, but I'm not sure it stuck." Standing at the edge of the balcony right beside Zilarin, Galon took a slice of toast and bit into it, then he gestured outwards and downwards into the darkness. "Can you see it?"
Zilarin and Atlas both turned their gazes to where Galon was pointing his forepaw. Zilarin squinted, but she shook her head. "No, I can't see a blasted thing. What are we looking at?"
Galon chuckled warmly. "History. Can you see it down there? I can barely make it out, so Atlas's night eyes should be able to see it too."
Atlas nodded his head. "I can see it." Thick, puffy clouds partially filled the sky, but in the distance towards the north, not in the flying city but in the ground far below, there was a cluster of lights many leagues away. The regularity of those lights was clearly artificial, marking a large area that stood out from all the other surrounding mountainous terrain. "That's the new city sector?"
"Sector forty-nine. Marvellous, isn't it?"
"It looks huge. This is a big development for the city," Atlas said.
"Oh, of course. Hopefully all goes to plan." Galon's smile faded slightly, and his neck frill drooped. "I've lost many nights of sleep worrying about this new sector. The... scale and complexity of this project exceeds anything done in the last few decades. In some regards, sector forty-nine is even more ambitious than sector one, the maiden launch of Avaeria itself."
Whereas Zilarin was a healer in the medical centre, Atlas knew that Galon was an architect who worked with clan Mintaka. "You designed the new city sector, drak?"
Galon laughed good-heartedly. "Hah, certainly not all of it!" He nodded his head towards the house, where there was a crowd of dragons socializing. "I'm just a senior architect from one team, and there are so many teams involved, so many departments, so many moving parts." Galon snapped up what was left of his toast, then he gestured sharply with his forepaws. Suddenly a small chunk of stone about the size of a dragon's paw tore out from the balcony's surface, carved by the drake's magic.
That rock floated suspended in the air for a moment. Then as Atlas watched, Galon made quick, precise gestures with his paws, and without even touching it, he cleaved and reshaped that rough chunk of stone like it was soft as clay. The rough, uneven shape became a flattened hexagonal, thrice as wide as it was tall. Spikes rose from the top and bottom surfaces of the carving which looked like stalactites and stalagmites, but with too much regularity and evenness--on the model those represented building towers, constructed right into the structure of the new city sector itself.
When Galon was done, he cut off his stone magic and caught that small carving of the new city sector in his paw. It had taken mere seconds, but it was as much a display of power and skill as when Zilarin had used her healing magic to check Atlas's health.
The three-legged fledgling peered curiously at the small rock carving of sector forty-nine, then he stared out from the city, looking down into the mountainous terrain for those distant lights that marked the location of the real construction being done far below and away. Clouds, distance, and darkness made it impossible to see as much detail in the real sector forty-nine, but he could make out the glow of lights that illuminated a huge hexagonal patch in the mountains.
Galon looked closely at the rock sculpture he had just made, and he extended a single claw to make some final, fine carvings. "The city always must grow. It started as one singular piece, but over the centuries it has grown piece by piece with each new sector added. But this one is different. Historically, Avaeria always had to be grounded to do major expansions. It takes hours for us to even rotate or change course, and so it takes entire days to safely descend and land the city somewhere in the Outer Colonies where a new sector was already built. Then we would stay grounded for weeks or even months, while that new sector was hurriedly attached to the city's support structure. It's such a huge and costly way to do things that it's no wonder there haven't been any major expansions in more than a decade." Once again using his magic, Galon made the sculpture hover a short distance over his outstretched forelimb. "This new sector is different. Instead of landing the city, we're going to fly sector forty-nine up and join it to the city mid-air."
"Like an airship," Atlas commented.
"Like an airship, but also like the city itself," Galon agreed. "If this goes right, we will add major new space to Avaeria and set a precedent for new sector construction for the next century, solidifying Mintaka's territorial reach and power. If it goes wrong..." The drake shook his head, and he stared out into the darkness with his neck frill drooping. "Very few things can destroy an apex clan, but a failed project of this magnitude might just be one of those things."
Zilarin had finished her small puff pastry, and she casually licked the crumbs from her paw--which wasn't a very well-mannered action, contrasting against the polite, dignified air of Galon and the various guests inside the house. Jarzyl's mother had a deliberate, assertive confidence about her, which Atlas very much recognized in Jarzyl sometimes. Zilarin bumped her snout against Galon's neck. "Oh, I'm sure your team's designs were fine. I rather doubt you'll go down in history as the drakken who destroyed our clan."
"Obviously I don't think anyone expects anything but success today, but the risk does exist. The massive investments we've put into sector forty-nine have stretched Mintaka thin," Galon replied. "If the launch doesn't go smoothly and somehow sector forty-nine does not end today being successfully linked up with the city, we're in some serious financial trouble." Galon casually put his wing around Zilarin's back in an affectionate manner, but he frowned thoughtfully. "Though that being said, Taslin clan will share some of the suffering since this is a joint project with them, so this project has potential to destroy not just one apex clan, but two. Success or otherwise, today will be a day for the history books."
Atlas nodded politely, and he took another bite from his bread roll.
Galon frowned again, but then he shrugged and flicked his neck frill back to its normal position. He casually dropped the sculpture of the new city sector right back into the uneven hole in the ground he had carved it out from, then with another wave of his paws the stone flowed back into position so the surface was left smooth again. Galon then picked up the bread basket, which only had a few more pastries left, and pushed it towards Atlas. "The launch should be quite a sight. Why don't you go see if Jarzyl wants some breakfast? She's still in her room."
Zilarin snorted. "And tell Jarzyl we'll be leaving soon. She should get ready if she hasn't already."
"Yes, drak." Atlas swallowed the remnants of his bread roll and then he slung the basket around his neck. Because he was still not yet fully grown, the basket was just a bit too large for him to leave dangling around his neck, so instead he grabbed the basket handle in his jaws and held his head high. For a moment Atlas considered the living room, filled with important Mintaka dragons who were socializing and chatting in what was soon to be a massively important moment for their clan, along with security bodyguards, assistants and secretaries, and others.
A clanless, three-legged, young fledgling didn't really fit in with all of that. Instead of entering the living room and going down the corridor, Atlas stood up and starting leaping from ledge to ledge until he had reached the balcony of Jarzyl's bedroom. Still holding the bread basket in his jaws, Atlas carefully stepped forward to find his friend.
TO BE CONTINUED