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As wind whipped and whistled past Astrath’s snout, they couldn’t help but feel they were forgetting something. Scratching the underside of their chin, they looked down at their clawed hands, squinting. Their black scales gleamed and shone in the sunlight, outputting a rather spectacular reflection of the light. They were at peace; Which was… a rare occurrence for them, to say the least.
Surely, something must’ve been wrong though, right? They couldn’t remember where they were, how they got there, or what all these blasted noises roaring around them were. Stretching their wings out, they took a moment of glee to examine them, a small source of pride, even as they couldn’t shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong.
The sudden realization that a piercing scream had been trailing them for quite some time sprang upon them, and they flipped over to investigate the source of the noise. Their eyes widened slightly, seeing none other than Katarina, flailing wildly about in that infernal wing suit all the students had insisted on being constructed before they went to the Stormguard Citadel, the one Katarina had specifically asked Astrath to look at...
The second realization was that the ground of Kandarin below was rapidly approaching both of them, enough to finally snap Astrath’s addled mind into action. Folding in their wings for a dive, they shielded their eyes as they rushed towards Katarina, trying to remember how they got here in the first place…
---
“... and as you can quite clearly see, the machinery and intricacy of the design here indicates a much higher level of mechanical understanding than we currently possess.” Astrath finished, passing the meticulously restored golem heart around for the interns to examine. He held his tongue to the best of his ability as one student nearly dropped the heart, before quickly passing it to the next intern and making themselves as small as possible.
“To this day, the only functioning golems discovered have been in the desert, at the ruins of Uzer, which I have no doubt you’ve all studied extensively.” he continued, eyeing down one intern in particular, who only slunk his head in shame. This student had been a particular annoyance, and between smashed artefacts, late work, and blatant laziness, Astrath constantly found themselves boiling over at the mere thought of having to interact with this intern further.
“Fascinatingly, the golems at Uzer operate on entirely different internals than the reconstructed ones from Stormguard,” they added, as Katarina took the mechanical heart gently into her grasp. Though they held no true fondness for humans, Astrath had to admit that Katarina was among their favorites - how rare and wonderful it had been to find a seemingly honest and goodhearted human, when so many others they’d encountered had been quite the opposite. Then again, they supposed and had to remind themselves, not all humans were the same, just as not all dragons and their kin were the same. Turning on the spot, Astrath picked up a piece of chalk, and began writing out instructions and reminders on the dinky chalkboard as they prepared to wrap up instruction for the day.
“And with that, our lesson for today is concluded. Now, I need not remind you that the group-teleport to Kandarin leaves at 9:00am sharp tomorrow, do not forget your wingsuits, as they will not be provided for you when we arrive at the site and failure to bring one will result in - “ Astrath trailed off, as the sound of hundreds of hours of delicate reconstruction being instantly reduced to springs, sprockets and other assorted detritus as it collided with the floor, sending magically infused sparks flying. The rage building behind Astrath’s eyes needn’t be seen, as a thick black smoke had almost instantly started pouring out their nostrils.
“AUTOMATIC FAILURE.” Astrath roared, turning around and slamming their hands into well-clawed grooves on the desk, digging the grooves just that much deeper as they struggled to maintain their temper. Scanning wildly across the room, their eyes quickly fell upon the culprit.
Of course it was Jimmy. OF COURSE. No matter how many times Astrath had reported their immense displeasure with Jimmy’s work ethic, general aptitude, and otherwise demeanor to Acting Guildmaster Reiniger, nothing had ever been done. Now, his ineptitude had destroyed perhaps one of the best restored finds to come out of the citadel, and the rage inside Astrath was burning hotter than in the Necrosyrtes afflicted by the curse of Jas.
“JIMMY. WOULD YOU CARE TO EXPLAIN WHAT HAPPENED? WHAT POSSIBLE SERIES OF EVENTS COULD HAVE TRANSPIRED THAT WOULD CAUSE YOU TO DROP THE SINGLE MOST IMPORTANT ARTEFACT DISCOVERED AT STORMGUARD THUS FAR?” they seethed, embers trailing each word, each lick of breath hotter than the last.
Jimmy, to his credit, did not immediately soil himself, though he quickly was reduced to a shaking and crying vaguely human-shaped mass of matter.
“I, I just - I d-d-didn’t mean to - “ he stammered helplessly, his ability to speak degenerating by the second.
“CLASS IS DISMISSED. ” Astrath roared to the class at large, tramping over to the window and throwing it open, immediately unleashing a massively hot spit of fire into the air outside. They could hear their students rapidly scatter, of which they were sure Jimmy was at the forefront.
Staring pointedly across the River Salve while trying to collect themselves, Astrath could hear a tiny ‘ahem’, of someone clearing their throat behind them.
“Professor?” came Katarina’s voice, her demeanor soft. Even in her considerably smaller-than-a-dragon’s human hands, she had picked up every piece of the golem heart she could find, and was gently holding it out for Astrath to take.
Swallowing the rest of their rage for the time being, Astrath gestures to the table for her to deposit the pieces.
“Thank you, Katarina. That will be all for the day.”
“Actually, Professor, I was wondering if you could help me? I’m still having that… issue , with my wingsuit. The differential on the one wing is too strong, and I end up in a flight spiral whenever I try to use it.” she said, knitting her fingers together after depositing the parts.
“I was hoping you could… take a look at it for tomorrow?” she asked, a glimmer of hope in her eyes as she reached into her backpack, and retrieved the folded wingsuit, in addition to a small, multi-faceted object. Astrath perked slightly, recognizing it as something from the Orthen digsite. Where had she gotten that?
“My older sister sent this back, and while it’s quite a nice bauble, I know this is your particular area of… interest, and I would be more than happy to let you have it if you could look at my suit?”
Astrath’s hard heart melted just slightly. She was their best and brightest student, and surely it wouldn’t take too long to look at the suit and fix the heart before tomorrow.
Astrath nodded. “Leave it on my desk. I’ll return it to you tomorrow before we leave for the site.”
The newfound light behind Katarina’s eyes would almost make the coming sleepless night worth it. Almost.
---
Astrath settled down at their workbench, letting out a string of curses in the dragonkin language that would make even Sistrath blush. Sliding a pair of specially made goggles over their eyes, they gently ran their claws over the seams of the wingsuit, looking for the latch. This invention stuff never got any easier, especially when none of the tools were made for their hands.
Palming the dodecahedron that Katarina had given them in one hand, they felt at least a little at ease as they could feel the ancient letterings inscribed onto each face. By best they figured, this was some sort of ceremonial die, though for what ceremony and for what purpose, they hadn’t the foggiest of clues.
Settling it down as they finally opened the wingsuit and exposed its internals, they opened the drawer built into their workbench, and stashed the small trinket for now. They paused before closing it completely, their eyes glancing over their small stash of… illicit for dragons, substances. Surely, indulging just a little after such a stressful day wouldn’t hurt, would it?
Taking out the intricate container and pushing the drawer closed with their tail, they portioned out a bit of marrentill and dumped it into the censer in front of them, before deciding to hell with the caution, and dumping the rest of their supply.
Bringing the censer to the edge of their snout, they let loose the tiniest of flames to catch the leafy herb, which immediately began smouldering. As soon as the scent hit their nostrils, the overwhelming calm they had become accustomed to washed over them, and they knew they’d find the rest of the tasks at hand much, much more enjoyable while high as a kite.
Tracing the delicate machinery inside the wingsuit, they adjust a spring here, redirect the flow of energy there, and delicately attempt to make it more flight-worthy for the following day.
Drumming the metal of the wings against the bench, Astrath traces in their head how much power this should output on the next flight. Hooking the power supply to a divine charge, they grab some magically reinforced wires, and allow it to drip charge, while they move onto the main event: The heart. They make a slight note to remember to take the wings off the charger before wrapping up their work for the night.
Pulling a bench-mounted magnifying glass close to them, they peer down into it and allow them to see the microcracks, busted sprockets, misaligned structures, and quickly find their rage rising to a boil once again. Quickly pulling the censer over, they inhale deeply, and allow the calm to wash over them once again.
“Keep your head on, Astrath”, became the mantra of the night. As the seconds stretched to minutes, and the minutes stretched into hours, Astrath’s head swam in the delightful fumes, carefully reconstructing each delicate structure, every dainty piece of the heart. Testing, testing, and re-testing, until it would function properly for the demonstration on the trip tomorrow. By the time they were done, the sun's rays weren’t just peeking over the hills, it was damn near broad daylight.
Even though at some point during the night the censor had run dry, Astrath was still pleasantly buzzed when their alarm started going off, the heart pumping away steadily on the desk. Taking a moment to comprehend what that annoying sound was, Astrath shot like a bolt of lightning out of their chair, scrambling to collect everything and get to the teleport gathering.
Shoving the golem heart into a satchel and slinging it over their shoulder, they only barely remember to grab the wingsuit, ripping the connecting wires off of it and clumsily seal it back up as they dashed out of their cramped workshop, papers and studying guides scattered to the wind as they did so.
They only barely make it to the meeting location in time, and clumsily pawn the ‘repaired’ wingsuit to Katarina, trying their best to seem as if they were totally normal and on the ball, while the truth couldn’t be more of the opposite. Even as Astrath’s eyes fell upon Jimmy, the marrentill was still doing its job, and not even a flicker of rage flickered inside of them.
“Yes, great. Is everyone ready?” they said, clapping their hands together, trying to desperately remember who was supposed to be there that day.
“Teleporting… now!”
---
The feeling of the ground de-materializing and re-materializing underneath their feet was something Astrath had never quite gotten used to. Even on the best of the days it left them a little stunned and woozy, but with their mind swimming in sweet sweet euphoria on top of it? It was all but guaranteed they were going to end up ass over tit, sprawled out over the lush grass and surrounded by their students nearby the Ikovian Memorial.
“Everyone, remember to put on your seats before we interface with the telesphere. Do not deploy them before we’re ready to fly, I will not be having a repeat of our last excursion.”
Getting to their own feet, they greeted some of the nearby archaeologists, including the Gee’ka, who only shot them a look, but said nothing of their current condition.
Within minutes, they were all once again miles in the sky and gearing up to take the final leap before flying through the rest of the citadel.
“ONE at a time, please come up and deploy your wings for final checks, and we’ll begin our journey to the Nightguard Excavation Site.” Astrath called out over the hollering winds, unable to help but feel the piercing gaze of Armadyl in the distance. They still weren’t sure how they felt about Armadyl’s rather… intrusive gaze on the site, ever since they’d received a replica dreamcoat from another archaeologist. There was almost… too much interest.
Out of the corner of their eye, Astrath could see Katarina fiddling with their wingsuit behind them, but didn’t pay it much mind yet. Katarina had always been a somewhat nervous flier, and was usually the last to step up for final checks.
Astrath tried not to pay too much mind to it, as they beckoned for the students to come forward. Five students checked and thrown into the air, and all was going well. Then, Jimmy approached and they couldn’t help but suck in a sharp breath. Thankfully, a sharp howl of wind disguised it, as Astrath approached.
Examining the outer metallic layer for holes and other defects, as well as making sure they weren’t bent or broken, Astrath nodded. For once, it seemed that Jimmy hadn’t loused this up. They were still in deep shit from yesterday, and Astrath did their best to remain civil for the time being.
Just as they were about to give the final okay and get Jimmy into the air, the wind picked up again, and made it unsafe for him to jump.
“Do NOT open your wings!” they shouted over the gale, to which Jimmy seemed to take a moment to process with a puzzled look on his face, before slamming his hand onto the extend button.
The results were almost as comical as they were dangerous. The wings instantly extended on both sides, one of them striking Astrath directly in the snout, and sending them tumbling backwards from the unexpected force. Normally they would’ve been able to stop themselves from tumbling over the edge, but three factors came into play that Astrath had not been prepared for.
Firstly, they were still sloshed from the marrentill, and their reactions were majorly slowed. Secondly, the gale-force winds were almost forcing their wings open, catching it and dragging them backwards across the top of the floating island. Thirdly, they hadn’t expected to tumble backwards into Katarina, sending them both hurtling directly over the edge into the screaming abyss of nothing below.
Katarina, on instinct, tried opening their own wings, striking Astrath squarely across the head, and stunning them into forgetfulness for the briefest of moments as they tumbled, with the stark realization that their wings not only still didn’t work properly, but now didn’t work at all. Thus, began the screaming, as both of them accelerated towards terminal velocity.
---
“KATARINA! GIVE ME YOUR HAND!” Astrath roared, their powerful claws outwardly stretched, hoping against hope that she’d thrust her arm up into their grasp.
Even now as the wind screamed in their ears, they could see the absolute panic that Katarina was in, tears streaming down her face as her hair whipped around her, the wings sputtering weakly as they attempted to do anything to slow this descent. The ground continued racing towards them at a startling pace, and time was most definitely running out
The dragonkin word for ‘faster’ raced through Astrath’s mind, as they pulled in their wings and body parts as tightly as possible, trying to exceed Katarina’s speed.
“Faster… faster… FASTER!” they could nearly scream, finally managing to wrap one arm around her, and deftly pulling her into their chest, stuck their legs out below both of them, and flapped their wings as if their very lives depended on it.
---
The impact was not what one would call ideal. While not hitting at mach speed had been a great boon, Astrath still hit the ground with considerable speed and power. Cratering the ground for a small distance around them, Astrath’s powerful legs were screaming in agony from the force of the impact. Dirt had been sent flying, coating them in a fine mist of earth and detritus, but the important thing was that their student was alive.
Shaken, crying, and a trembling mess, but alive. Collapsing onto their hindquarters, Astrath sprawled backwards, gently placing Katarina on the ground beside them.
“Fucking… Jimmy.” Astrath spat, slowly looking up to see where exactly they had landed. Still in Kandarin obviously, but the local land features looked… uncomfortably familiar.
Casting their gaze eastward, their eyes settled upon a manor that they wished they’d burned down when they left.
End.