Rockhill

Tea was served. The kitchen was clean. Even the dinner table, seldom used, had been dusted off.

Kaelan found no other way to entertain himself. He took a seat on the dinner table, slouching and resting his chin on the wooden surface. It soon began vibrating in unison with his bouncing leg. Desperate to fight boredom, he unfurled his left wing and began preening.

He had already preened that morning, and his thumb going through his feathers rustled the peachy scent of the oil he had used. But regardless of how much time he spent preening, there was always dust that could be wiped off or barbs that could be straightened. He took in the surroundings, already quite familiar by then, but both his hands and his mind needed busying.

The shack was small, built vertically against a stone wall. It had three floors of wooden planks, each one consisting of a single room. The little dining room was in the first one, connected with steep stairs to the kitchenette on the second floor. Every time he gazed up, he imagined how impractical it must be to bring down a big meal through those stairs. But it's not like Rigel did a lot of cooking, the area was only put in use for removing rust from scrap metal.

The dining room was surprisingly maximalist. While the only furniture was the round table and three seats, every inch of wall was covered in schedule tables and flight charts, with the odd blueprint here and there. And despite the overwhelming quantity, the charts were straight and orderly, Rigel’s meticulous handwriting an art in itself. Kaelan could almost get lost staring at the few blueprints. Pure gibberish in his eyes, but the geometric patterns of wires and metal were satisfying nonetheless.

Pausing his preening, he reached for the jar of water in the middle of the table. It held a few weed cuttings that Kaelan had pilfered from the nearby woods. While still fresh, little root nubs were beginning to form at the base. He had already noted them, the weed jar was always the first thing he checked when he came over. Seeing he had time to spare, he began counting the roots.

The sound of a chair dragging across the floor gave him pause. Kaelan tilted his head, giving him a better gauge of the direction. After the chair came steps, from a higher floor. Rigel’s workshop.

Immediately, Kaelan straightened. He flattened down the brown feathers he had left mid-preen, adjusted his bangs, and made sure the jar was well-centred on the table.

Light poured out from an open trapdoor in the corner of the kitchen area. A small Avian climbed down a ladder, head first. He approached the table walking on fours.

“Kaelan. You’re early.”

As usual. He tended to overestimate how long the trip to the Stargazer village took.

Rigel climbed onto one of the free chairs. He was an old Cyclone, face weathered by wrinkles and long scars. His long hair and feathers were red, shining like embers when caught by the light. He was scowling, as was usual, though the tension between his eyebrows softened a speck at being met with the steamy cup of tea. He unfastened the buckles of his gloves, exposing hands covered in black scales. While setting the gloves away, he asked, “Did you come by wing?”

“Yes!” Kaelan beamed, allowing himself the pleasure of a toothy grin.

“While wearing that?” Rigel gazed at the ruana Kaelan wore, a hooded wool garment that covered his frontal shoulders and chest like a blanket. With its pine green colours, it was good camouflage for the forested mountainsides. But Kaelan knew that his mentor disapproved, long fabric pieces like those made flight more difficult.

“Um, yeah. It gets cold up there…” He whined, tugging at the yellow bandana on his neck. “But hey, I didn’t get lost this time!” Swaying his legs, talons softly rasped against the wooden floor.

“That’s good.” Rigel took his time taking a sip of the tea. Kaelan did so too, a wary eye on Rigel. He had brought a new blend, black tea with cinnamon, ginger, and cloves. He left it after just a taste. The ginger dominated the beverage; and while neither Kaelan nor Rigel felt the heat, the flavour made him choke.

The old Avian didn’t show any cracks in his expression. Another long sip and Rigel continued. “Considering you came flying, we can forgo warming up today.”

Looking at him, Kaelan noted that he was already in a black flight suit, a pointy metallic mask hanging from his neck. The younger Avian hid a smile by taking another disgusting sip. It wasn’t often that Rigel went as far as to put on flight gear.

Rigel finished up his cup. He put on the gloves again and jumped down to the floor. He was so small that the table hid him. “Finish that up and meet me by the Forest Split.” He walked past the cane beside the door and left.

Now alone, Kaelan eyed the tea. He dunked it down the kitchenette sink and ran behind Rigel.

The Fissure was relatively small for a Stargazer village, with no more than two hundred residents. It was constructed inside of a slot canyon, with shacks made of mismatched wood in different levels of rot, and half-rusted metallic panels that clung to the stone walls. A stream covered the canyon’s floor, and while rain wasn’t frequent in the area, everything had been built on posts. The houses and buildings resulted in being several metres above the ground, interconnected with catwalks of more wood, chain link, and frayed rope. All the buildings seemed to sport clothes and towels, hanging in the windows like flags, or in clotheslines that connected two or three shacks at a time.

While the narrow passage closed off in various ceiling areas, there were plenty of crevices that still let in the waning sunlight of the late afternoon. At that hour, most of the day’s work had finished and the habitants were taking time to mingle near the big (and only) eatery. With the vertiginous catwalks and elevated buildings, it wasn’t surprising that nearly all of the residents were flighted. Whirlwinds were the most numerous, their wingspan projecting wide shadows as a couple flew past.

Kaelan had already lost track of Rigel, the small Avian had expertise in disappearing among the labyrinthine village. But he knew where the Forest Split was, and he made his way to it on foot.

The biggest downside of walking at that hour, besides the traffic, was the swarm of dinner scents. Mountain goats were the most plentiful catch from hunters, and a family of Zephyrs had set up a fish farm in the deeper area of the stream. The smoke of grilled meat seemed to come from most houses, making Kaelan’s mouth water ravenously. A Whirlwind noticed him staring at their makeshift grill, and they playfully spread their dusty wings, metallic golden rimming their flight feathers.

Rigel wasn’t famous for his patience, but there were priorities Kaelan couldn’t ignore.

He arrived at the Forest Split, a half-eaten fish skewer in hand. The Split was one of the myriads of crevices in the canyon wall. It was a tall, sinuous crack that overlooked the forest on the Braukar side of the mountain range. It gave a good vantage point, and a platform had been installed to serve as a watching point and landing strip.

Rigel was sitting on a table, the resting area for the watcher on duty. Across him sat Ari, a tall woman with shoulders and wings as wide as they get. She had tan skin that contrasted against her sharp blue eyes, which at that moment were shrouded in shadow. Kaelan slowed down his pace, bringing the skewer to his mouth. They hadn’t noticed him yet.

“It isn’t prudent, you aren’t prudent.” The woman grunted, polishing a black and navy rifle that already looked spotless. She straightened from leaning against the table. “You should have asked for permission.”

“Permission? Are you a handler, perhaps?” Rigel hissed, his red shoulder feathers spiking despite his steeled face.

“Fuck off. You live in a community, and the things you do impact all of us.”

“It is a community, yes. Of free Avians.” Rigel narrowed his eyes. “Free. That’s something you tend to forget, miss Warden.”

“Don’t-” Ari was suddenly on her feet, the rifle placed on the table. Her wingspan was a behemoth of rusty feathers, so much so that she completely cloaked Rigel. Even if she was giving Kaelan her back, he heard her roaring. “Don’t you patronise me. I care for this place more than you ever will.”

“I don’t doubt that." Rigel's reply was tinted in levelled calm. "But you don’t do a good job showing it. The last thing these people need is to be forced back into lacking independence.”

Ari closed her wings, shaking her head. Kaelan noticed the older Avian’s easy posture hadn’t shifted despite Ari’s display. But then, green eyes went straight to him. Rigel’s scowl broke into a raised eyebrow of disapproval.

Still, Ari continued. “It’s not lacking independence. Most of our Stargazers come from a government background, and to have a sense of structure-”

With Rigel distracted, she followed his gaze. Seeing the newcomer stopped her train of thought. She took a few steps back, fisted hands uncurling.

“Kae.” Ari gingerly sat back down, her voice taking a softer tone. “It’s not polite to eavesdrop.” Kaelan had a sliver of a smile, a cloak as he swallowed the last bit of charred meat. He slouched, making himself small as he replied. “I didn’t want to interrupt.”

“You should have.” Rigel asserted quickly. He got off the chair, and still on fours, walked to the lip of the crack. “Come on.”

Trotting to join Rigel, Kaelan nodded in greeting to Ari when he passed by her. He subtly tossed the wooden skewer in the bin beside the table.

At the crack, a soft breeze tussled with his hair. Summer was on its last leg, but it still made for long days: even at dinnertime, the sun was just starting to set. They could see miles upon miles of forest and farmed land, the mountain casting long shadows over the patchwork of greens. The landscape wasn’t like his homeland, but seeing the tilled land dotted with trees made Kaelan’s heart quiver. An expanse of water enveloped the north, the Gulf of Braukar that connected to the frigid Achis Ocean.

The wooden platform was replaced by stone at the entrance of the hole. Kaelan sat on the floor beside Rigel, crossing his legs and keeping distance from the precipice.

“Tell me-,” Rigel started before something gave him pause. “Kaelan, were you eating?”

The younger Avian smiled, “What makes you think that?”

Rigel prodded his cheek with a scowl. Kaelan blanked for a moment before he wiped his own cheek with the back of his hand. There were bits of fish scales, fragrant with the herbs and lime in which it had been cooked. He licked it off and recovered his smile.

The mentor sighed with a hint of a growl and paced behind Kaelan. “Tell me about the weather.”

Kaelan hummed, absent-mindedly spreading his wings. “With the hour, there’s going to be a mountain breeze soon, which can be good to push us out of the mountain and into the valley.”

As he talked, gloved hands inspected Kaelan’s pointy flight feathers. He tried not to fidget under the touch. Still, Rigel's snort made him flinch. “Peach?” He referred to the oil that enveloped his feathers, giving them the pleasant scent.

“It smells good, doesn’t it?” He turned with a grin.

“Good for tracking, yes.” Rigel moved on to check the barbules on the shiny red secondary feathers. “Go on.”

“Um, well,” Kaelan returned his gaze to the sky. He had to squint, the gentle sunrise was like daggers to his eyes. The high layer of clouds was wispy and translucent, letting through the pastel tones of the sky. “There’s some…well, there are clouds that won’t cause precipitation tonight. Maybe a light drizzle, at most. I don’t smell rain, though.”

“Names.” Rigel loved his proper terms.

Kaelan mumbled cloud names, scrutinising the sheer off-white of the clouds, almost expecting them to whisper the answer to him. “Cirrocumulus?”

“Cirrostratus.”

“Agh, close enough." He looked around, seeking the direction for where the blues turned bright, brighter than any pigment or screen colour. Locating the north, he felt how his whiskers swayed. "Right now, the wind is going southwest, but I guess it’s bound to switch eastwards once the mountain breeze hits. That's all I got."

"Decent." Rigel let go of Kaelan's feathers, patting his back so he'd turn around to face him. He pointed towards a distant layer of long clouds, thicker than the cirrostratus. "There's a warm front coming up, you can see by the altostratus clouds in the distance. It's not going to hit us soon, but it’s important to identify them."

Rigel marched to the crack's border, overlooking the landscape. "Today's activities are going to be a bit different. We're going to recreate a game of Hunter, between the two of us."

"Hunter?"

Ari sighed from the table. "Tag, the game. Chucha," she specified in Tescano.

“What was it you said on eavesdropping?” Rigel cut in like a knife, his frown deepening. Ari didn’t reply, not verbally. She might have gotten into a staring contest with the older Avian, but Kaelan didn’t bother to confirm. He was busy panicking.

"Oh, wow. Okay.” He hugged his knees, wings closing to his sides. “So, like, while flying?"

"Yes."

"Against you?" He reiterated, feeling a pit forming in his belly.

"Yes.”

Opening his mouth and closing it again, Kaelan eyed the mentor’s build. Short, chest heavy and with sharp wings that effortlessly cut through the sky. The perfect high-speed Cyclone. Even at his advanced age, nobody in The Fissure matched him.

“Um, I think…,” he hesitated, eyes still glued to the large flight muscles in Rigel’s chest. He didn’t think, he was certain. “I can’t keep up with you.”

“I would agree, if this were a freestyle chase.” Rigel nodded before adding, “but that’s not the case. I will only be doing manoeuvres that you have already mastered.”

It did sound more reasonable with that limitation, but Kaelan still replied with a quivering hum.

“If you’re uncertain, we can do something else. But I wouldn’t be wasting time on this if I didn’t think you could achieve interesting results.”

“Do you, really?” Kaelan cracked a tiny smirk at the mention of ‘interesting’.

Rigel only stared at him, expression vague. There wasn’t hesitation in his eyes, Kaelan thought, but he was hard to read. The mentor might have been beyond grumpy and impatient, but he had never told him anything untrue, not even for a joke. An unfair measurement, perhaps, as the old Avian wasn’t one to jest anyway.

“Well, okay. Sure.” Kaelan stood up, unclasping the brooch that held his ruana together. He was going to need any advantage he could get. He folded it neatly and walked towards Ari.

“Can you hold this for me, please?”

“Kae, you don’t have to do this.” She received the bundle of fabric but held apprehension in her voice. “The bastard only wants to show off. You could get injured, your landings…” She shook her head, “I’m sorry, but your landings aren’t good.”

He smiled, but his fingers still went to fidget with the bandana on his neck. “I think I’ll be fine! Rigel wouldn’t do something just to injure me.”

“Didn’t he knock you out of the sky once?” She whispered, a faint growl mixing into the question.

“To make me lose the fear of crashing! It was holding me back a lot, and I turned out fine.” An aggressive tactic, perhaps, but Kaelan couldn’t deny its effectiveness. Rigel had made an effort of teaching controlled crashing due to the younger Avian’s tendency for unfortunate landings. Knowing how to crash, and what ways to move to minimise injury had eased his fear of the sky. He still aimed for good landings, though. The soreness after those lessons had been memorable.

“Sweet angels, Kae. You turned out fine that once, but that might not be the case always. Landing accidents are the top cause of death in-”

“Kaelan! Tick tock!” Rigel called, evident annoyance in his voice.

“Sorry, Ari! I’ll take care, don’t worry.” And he ran off, more to not let the woman lecture him further.

He reached the crack’s side, stepping towards Rigel. “Sorry! I was leaving my-”

“Yeah, leaving your things and talking shit. Are you ready to take off now?”

He pulled out the climbing gloves from the front pocket of his wide belt. They were made of thick cloth, with rubber fingertips that opened in a slit to allow his claws to poke through. He slid them on, his hands still a bit sticky from the oily fish.

Finally, he nodded, excitement starting to take hold.

“Ready!” Wings unfurled, and he gave them a last-minute check. Everything looked good.

“Remember our airspace. Don’t get too close to the gulf, or head too far south.”

“Got it!”

“I will be the hunter, you are the prey. I will ‘catch’ you only if I touch your body with my hands. The game ends when either that happens, or when half an hour has passed,” Rigel explained, then looked away and towards the landscape.

“I’ll give you one minute of head start. Starting now.”

“Wait-”

Rigel closed his eyes and counted out loud. “One. Two.”

Kaelan swore in a colourful Tescano, and ran for the crack.

“Three. Four.”

The urgency didn’t give him time to think, probably what Rigel had wanted. Kaelan jumped without hesitation. The moment his feet left the ground, his wings began beating strongly, carrying him high above the trees. He soared for the sea, wind rushing in his ears.

He took on a brisk pace, quick flapping followed by wings closing in and letting the momentum carry him. His angle of attack remained levelled, keeping his body straight.

The landscape below him transitioned, the verdant thicket replaced by abandoned farmland. The meadows were starting to take over the former tiled ground, with grass and bush an explosion of emerald in otherwise lighter green. He took the clearer prairies as a warning and tilted his body to bank for the north.

The sky flared in colours, stars beginning to dot the far firmament. Kaelan had had concerns about the hour: both Avians had eyes better adjusted for low light. Perhaps the sunset had been planned as an additional challenging layer.

Had the minute passed yet? He wasn’t sure. Keeping up with the intermittent flapping, his mind rushed for possible tactics. When it came to raw speed, Rigel bested him by far. But that is if he used dives, a manoeuvre Kaelan didn’t have yet. On level flight, he could sprint faster. But it wasn’t very useful, not when his flight stamina was poor.

Lost in thought, Kaelan saw his small reflection crossing over a shallow lake. A dark blotch followed, making his flapping stammer.

He craned his neck low, seeing the landscape and sky he was leaving behind. There was the silhouette of an Avian, wearing a white metallic mask that covered the face. Crimson wings stretched at his sides. Every one of those wing beats was precise, never overextending or wasting a movement.

Looking down, Kaelan noted how their shadows were getting closer and closer. Even with the speed at which he went, his whiskers began swaying towards the west. A subtle gust, but it was a herald of what was coming.

Rigel closed in and Kaelan braked hard. His tail feathers unfurled loudly, stalling his pace almost immediately. He twisted his body, facing to the west and letting the mountain breeze carry him away. Sneaking a glance back, he saw how Rigel banked, overshooting for the front of Kaelan’s trajectory.

At the impending meeting, Kaelan aimed up. Before he lost airspeed, he twisted to the side, swinging his legs and letting gravity finish the loop. He returned to levelled flight, heading straight back from where he had come. It was difficult riding against the wind, so he opted to zigzag his way back to the mountains.

He had no idea how Rigel caught up again. The mentor had placed himself to the west, making it impossible for Kaelan to look at him. But he could hear him. The snapping of his wingbeats, the solid tremor of his heart, the whistling of the tubes in the mask.

Kaelan arched in a barrel roll, twisting over the older Avian. Talons swiped for his ankles, but he folded his knees close and in an impulse, he closed his wings and dropped like a stone. Not like a hawk in a dive, but as a swimmer doing a cannonball. He couldn’t help grinning. That definitely wasn’t a standard Cyclone manoeuvre.

Recovering in a streamlined posture, he stretched his wings and glided. He aimed for the sea, trying to recover some altitude with the mountain breeze.

Looking behind, he was met by an empty sky and mountains. As much as he could see, anyway. He had tried to be careful, but looking at the west had left a bright afterimage.

Aiming for the mountain, Kaelan gave himself a moment to catch his breath. The mountain air was cold and fresh, though even with the distance he still could pick up traces of wood and smoky meat from The Fissure’s residents. But there was something else, a trace of motor oil, metal….and ginger.

He looked up. Rigel was gliding above, matching every move beat to beat, cloaking his noise with Kaelan’s. The mentor swiped down. Kaelan dodged with a wide roll toward the mountains. A few barbs split at the tip of his tail, but surely that didn’t count.

Quickening his pace, he kept the trajectory for the village, a plan in mind. With the cover blown, Rigel started getting more aggressive. Fingertips brushed feathers and whiskers, every strike getting closer to actually hitting. Kaelan tried to make his dodges unpredictable, but the older Avian had read his intention of returning. The tension made his stomach buckle. He couldn’t see him, not when both the sun and Rigel were right behind him, and analysing his noise was hard; in the speed, everything turned into a whir of wind.

Heart beating in his ears and panting hard, he sprinted. Flapping in a flurry, he blasted ahead of Rigel. Fire in his chest and his limbs, he couldn’t keep it up for long. The cold air whipped his face, like shattered glass inside his nose and lungs. A last burst, and he closed his wings.

He shot like a bullet through the Forest Split, making Ari screech at the sudden entry. He continued past her, past the landing strip and the ladder. He stretched his arms and landed loudly on top of a house. But he kept going, running on all fours, sticking close to the walls. He dashed, roofs of metal and wood rattling on his step. Sight restored in the darkness of the canyon, he saw Whirlwinds and Zephyrs howling at his presence. He feigned ignorance and kept a swift pace, leaping from roof to roof.

Rigel caught up quickly, rowing his wings narrowly but unable to touch the younger Avian. There simply wasn’t space to squeeze in unfurled wings. He still tried to get close, zigzagging while beating on and off.

Illustration of two winged people, one flying and the other running. They are traversing at fast speed through a slum situated inside a canyon.

“Kaelan, that’s cheating!” Rigel yelled, disconcerting energy in his voice. His wings beat so fast, the metallic crimson made him appear like a lit bonfire.

Kaelan wanted to tease but had no breath to reply. He limited himself to smiling, before jumping down to a catwalk and losing Rigel. He bent around corners and climbed poles, unconcerned by the direction. He only needed to get away.

He surfaced from a cramped alley, squeezing his way between a group of Zephyrs, their small wings fluttering in surprise. From the solid platform of a house, he took a long leap towards a more deserted catwalk. And he could have made it, had it not been for the red flurry that knocked the wooden board down.

With no platform to receive him, Kaelan had his heart in his throat. His wings unfurled reflexively, catching the air like a parachute. He glided, attempting shallow flaps and gauging the available space.

From the corner of his eye, a window reflected ember feathers shining golden under the lamps. Rigel emerged from an upper catwalk. Kaelan wailed, twirling and sending a few of his own feathers flying.

Kaelan saw the discarded wooden board floating in the stream below, getting lost between the posts that held the buildings. He descended, Rigel hot on his heels, and took a sharp turn towards the columns.

Left and right, he winded around the wood. His tail was on overclock, tilting and leading his movement like a rudder. He wasn’t sure if Rigel had even followed, and he didn’t bother to check, all of his mind was focused on not crashing. A false movement, and he would impact against a support or the river, the former perhaps more disastrous than the latter.

At a distance, he noticed a beam of light that leaked from one of the canyon’s cracks. He aimed for it, tilting hard and kicking the stone wall to help him turn.

Exiting the mountain, a narrow waterfall spluttered below and soaked his primary feathers. He flapped vigorously, an explosion of droplets and noise. Taking a moment to circle over the landscape, he assessed the surroundings.

Once again, he was over the Braukar airspace, the trees swaying to the mountain breeze. The remaining sunlight was a golden sliver on the horizon, tinting the gulf in bronze. Taroján, the younger moon, was beginning to rise proudly behind the mountain. He slowed down his pace, for Rigel was nowhere to be seen.

He risked getting closer to the gulf if only to get a boost from the breeze to push him upwards. While his heart rang in his ears and he was panting heavily, there was an even worse weariness in his wings. In the easy soar, he felt his chest muscles and his limbs shaking under the repetitive strain, his flight feathers visibly trembling.

He wasn’t sure for how long they had been out, but if the game’s time wasn’t over soon, he’d allow Rigel to just catch him. Kaelan considered he had given an interesting enough show.

The lower airspeed gave him a chance to listen to the world. Owls hooted. Crickets orchestrated at full force, accompanied by a few shy cicadas that remained from the waning summer. Grass and leaves fluttered to the breeze.

He climbed higher. In truth, he was concerned about Rigel’s whereabouts. The mentor was quite old for a Cyclone. Kaelan hoped that he hadn’t pushed him too far. The increasing altitude silenced the wildlife below, cloaking the night into a stillness that Kaelan wasn’t used to.

Looking ahead, he stammered in surprise. He was almost levelled to the peak of the mountains, several hundred metres over The Fissure, and several many more above the ground. Taroján carved silver on the rocky mountainside, while her larger sibling Alderján still had yet to rise for the night. While the sight was spectacular, he couldn’t help but feel unease.

He had grown up in a mountain village, and fellow Ajahuanos warned about ignoring the outposts at the pilgrimage paths. Climbing the roads carelessly led to soroche, a haunting dizziness that easily claimed lives. But Kaelan had grown to know those paths like the back of his hand, and he never once felt the sickness. Right then, while soaring high over the land, so close to the clouds that he felt he could touch them, he felt fine.

Still, it was prudent to not linger, if only to quiet the memory of his mother chastising him. His tail feathers fanned, lowering his airspeed. It was followed by the noise of rushing wind, which gave him pause.

The sky sounded different from that altitude. The air was thinner, so everything dulled down. His tail spreading shouldn’t have made a noise. But the rushing sound, it was loud, and it was close.

Kaelan was enveloped in a strong embrace, forcing his wings shut. He gasped, kicking the air and flailing like a fish to get out of the grasp.

“Got you.” Rigel’s voice, dampened by the mask, was right behind Kaelan. They spiralled in the air for an instant. Kaelan was still screeching by the time Rigel had stabilised, holding the younger Avian close in a leisured glide. With the added weight they were slowly losing altitude, but they were far too high to threaten a crash.

“Where did you come from!?” Kaelan yelled. He had stopped his thrashing once his brain registered that he wasn’t in danger.

“Above. I was counter-shadowing.”

He referred to the technique he had used before; mirroring Kaelan’s movements from a higher altitude. It effectively cloaked both his noise and his shadow.

“Agh.” Kaelan felt foolish, having fallen for the same trick twice. “Why didn’t you catch me sooner?”

“I was curious to see how high you were willing to climb.”

“Plenty high…I think.” He glanced again at the mountains, their peaks still levelled to them. “Can you release me now?”

There was silence. Rigel held him close, the tube that connected the flight suit to the metal mask battering against the back of Kaelan’s head. He liked getting the break, but he preferred getting it on land. If he kicked up, he was certain that Rigel would let go, but he also didn’t want one of his pissed-off lectures.

“Rigel?” He tried to look at him, but the red Avian’s head was right behind his. Still, he could hear his lax heartbeat, a steady rhythm that didn’t reflect having done any workout.

“Do you want to dive?”

“Dive?” The words took him so off guard, Kaelan had to take a moment to process them.

“Yes or no?”

“Yeah, okay,” he blurted out.

Diving was meant to be the bread and butter for high-speed Cyclones. Their short stature, core strength, and pointed wings gave them an ideal build to slice through the air. And while the move itself was simple, Rigel had been more than clear that it required abundant training and control. Kaelan wasn’t expecting to begin diving any time soon, especially not before fully mastering landings.

“Hold on well.”

Kaelan gripped Rigel’s arms, digging his claws into the thick flight suit.

“Contract your leg muscles very hard. Don’t panic if you feel like you’re going to pass out.”

They started to tilt down, the horizon getting lost above them.

“Pass out?”

And then, they dived. Falling like arrows for the ground, Rigel progressively closed his wings from an m-shape to a perfect drop. The adjustment of his pose came with a boost in speed, and in an instant, the world disappeared into a blur. The wind whipped their faces, and the younger Avian struggled to keep his eyes open and his lips shut.

Darkness took over the periphery of Kaelan’s vision. Down, down they went. A quiver in his chest urged him to go faster, making his already folded wings to clench close. The blotches that made up the landscape disappeared, and he was uncertain whether his eyes were closed or not. His very presence blurred away. He could barely hear the wind anymore.

Abruptly, he was hoisted up, and his mind recovered with a snap. The world took a moment to return to his vision, but once it did, he saw Rigel’s wings outstretched in a glide. He let go, and Kaelan unfurled his wings too. He tried to flap, but the airspeed was so strong, it felt like moving his limbs through mud. He strained instead to fan his tail, easing into a brake.

The little stunt had launched them a vast distance to the north. Rigel flapped loudly, more in an attempt to catch Kaelan’s attention, and then turned for the south. The younger Avian’s entire body protested at the simple bank. Wordlessly, they sailed for The Fissure. This time Rigel kept a healthy distance to his left, remaining inside Kaelan’s field of view.

A headache was starting to take hold, but Kaelan ignored it. He hardly paid attention to the landscape anymore, or to anything at all. The only thing in his mind was the darkness that had set in during the dive. It was as if his body had melted away, becoming nothing but the wind. His heart was still sputtering like rain on a roof.

And that one had been just a little dive, he assumed as much. They still were flying at a vast altitude. His body quivered in exhaustion, but he wished to be falling again. How far could he get launched with a real dive? How high would he need to climb? Beyond the mountains? Maybe even above the clouds, where the water turned into ice and not even the birds dared to reach.

How long would it be before he could dive again?

At last, they reached the Forest Split. Rigel landed with a simple wingbeat, feet first and finishing the move by landing gently on his hands.

Kaelan attempted something similar, lurching his legs forward for touchdown. At feeling ground, his knees buckled and he fell face-first, skidding along the platform as he diffused the remaining speed. He took a moment there, limbs sprawled about, before attempting to regain composure. Legs too weak to rise upright, he stood on fours.

Mask gone, Rigel stared at him with disapproval, which was the usual after such a landing. But Kaelan noted how much softer the frown was this time.

“There are splinters on your face,” Rigel observed, subtly lowering his head.

Kaelan chuckled, sitting back and carefully wiping them away. He muttered between pants, “So, was that interesting enough for you?”

“Quite, yes,” the red Avian nodded, straightening one of his primary feathers. His voice turned stern. “Don’t break into The Fissure like that again.”

Kaelan looked away, a bit apologetic. In hindsight, it had been an impulsive move. He opted to change the topic. “Hey, had you planned for that dive since the beginning? Because, whew.” Rigel’s face softened to his default stone. “No. But considering our altitude then, I didn’t see why not try it out.”

“Oh, well. It was a rush! I really liked it!” The adrenaline had left his system, but there was a jitter that remained at the back of his mind. It had been terrifying, and exhilarating. The closest thing that could measure up had been flowing through The Fissure’s columns, and yet it couldn’t hold a candle to the deadly drop.

“Did you lose consciousness?”

“Maybe? A little bit.” And if he was being honest, the way the world seemed to fade away, leaving only his heartbeat behind, had added to the experience. “But it wasn’t too bad. Will we be doing something like that again, soon?”

“Don’t get too excited-”

“Kaelan! Rigel!”

Ari’s voice crushed Rigel’s words, his scowl actually breaking into wide eyes. She was nowhere to be seen, but the approaching stomps and rising growling foretold of her arrival.

“Kaelan, see you next week,” Rigel sentenced, before taking a headstart run and gliding down towards the buildings.

Ari emerged from the ladder, her head snapping towards the remaining Avian, her feathers mantled behind her like a porcupine. Kaelan knew he was in for a show.

“What the hell were you guys thinking!?”