Revaramek the Resplendent - Chapter One Hundred Nine (Patreon)

Revaramek awoke early the next morning. Dawn had broken beyond the mountains, edging the many stone sentinels in pink and gold. But it was still cold in the valley shadows, where the rising sun’s light had not yet penetrated. The dragon rose up, easing away from Nyramyn, careful not to wake her. Mirelle was still asleep as well, curled inside her thick, padded bedroll. There was still some wood leftover from the night before, and a few embers yet glowed in the ashes of the fire pit. Revaramek stacked the leftover wood atop the embers and ashes. When the new additions did not catch flame quick enough for his liking, the dragon took a breath and spat just enough fire to ignite things.

Satisfied that it would keep Nyramyn and Mirelle warm while he hunted breakfast, Revaramek padded to the to the edge of the mossy island. He peered down into the water. A school of small silvery flick flitted about in a deep pool, pursued by something larger, and darker. As delicious as fish were, Revaramek doubted he’d be able to catch enough of them to make a snack, let alone a meal.

The dragon vaulted into the air, beating his wings. The valley floor fell away beneath him, breath by breath. Usually Revaramek ascended in a spiral, but the looming mountains on either side made that difficult. Instead, he followed the river’s winding path, banking back and forth as he rose higher and higher into the cool mountain air. The wind gusts bouncing off the cliffs buffeted him, and he flared his wings and tail fan to help keep his flight stable. The air here had a different smell, a different weight to it than that of the marsh. It felt lighter, a little thinner, and drier, without the frequent humidity of the marsh. Where the air back home was redolent with the aromas of water, here the old scents of stone and earth were more prevalent.

Sunlight cascading over the mountaintops struck Revaramek as he fly. He squinted, glancing away a moment. The dragon’s flight membranes protected his eyes from the worst of the glare, but it still took a moment to adjust. Somehow the morning sunlight here seemed brighter than it did back in the marsh. The golden light shone with extra intensity. Revaramek wondered if it was because they were at a higher elevalation and thus closer to the sun? Or perhaps it was because they were nearing the desert, where the light was harsh enough to scorch the earth into lifeless sands.

That didn’t sound very pleasant, he thought.

But it wasn’t really without life, was it? Vakaal’s desert certainly had plenty of life, once upon a time. While they weren’t heading for Vakaal’s desert, Revaramek expected their destination would have life. It damn well had to if they expected to find herbs growing there. It was possible that whatever oasis Asterbury built was the only beacon of life in the whole of the desert, but Revaramek doubted it. Why, surely there were all manner of scorpions and oversized spiders and other things with which he could scare Mirelle. On second thought, he knew Mirelle would probably just step on it, and then put her boots to other uses.

Following the valley’s winding path eventually led to a flatter area where the water was shallow but swift. The river raced across smooth stones and crashed against boulders. Myriad eddies and long stretches of white rapids glittered in the sun. Wide sections of riverbank were laden with long grasses, rippling in the breeze. Further along, late season wildflowers still in blossom brought sharp contrast to all the gray stone with speckles of vibrant blue and bursts of bright crimson.

A half dozen mountain sheep with large, curled horns and shaggy, dingy gray wool wandered the river bank, grazing on the tender blooms. Revaramek had learned during earlier mountain hunts that those sheep were not only faster than they look, but capable of scaling all but the sheerest rock face. He selected one in advance, even before he started his dive. As soon as his shadow passed over them, he knew the sheep would scatter, and he did not have much room to safely pursue them.

The dragon folded his wings, and went into a steep, sharp dive. Unless he intended to clamber over rocks and starting climbing mountains to chase them, he needed to be on his prey almost before they even knew he was there. As he picked up speed, hurtling towards the bottom of the valley, the sheep scattered. One prey beast scattered in just about every direction. The one he’d picked in advance made it to the cliffside faster than he anticipated, but another one panicked and simply ran along the valley. Revaramek adjusted course to chase it down.

By the time the sheep he hunted had turned to run towards the looming cliffs, Revaramek was nearly upon it. He snapped out his wings to arrest his dive in an instant, the sudden change left his stomach in his hind paws, if only for a moment. Revaramek lashed out and sunk sharp claws into the animal’s haunches, deep enough to hit bone. The sheep bleated in pain and terror as the dragon beat his wings and hoisted his prey aloft.

Normally, Revaramek preferred to kill his prey as quickly as possible. Given the confines of the valley, though, he was far more concerned with keeping himself alive. He did not have a lot of room to maneuver, let alone to worry about trying to bash an animal’s skull against a mountainside without also bashing himself. He flew on until he had room enough to turn around. Then he ascended, banked in a tight arc, and flew back the way he came.

Once he was on his way back to the camp sight, he made sure to finish off the bleating, struggling sheep. The dragon held his prey out in his forelegs, curled his neck down, and bite into the back of its neck. Revaramek twisted his head one way, and wrenched the sheep in the other. He intended just to shatter its neck, but ended up tearing the thing’s head off completely. The wrenching, ripping sound surprised him, and he almost dropped his prey. Blood poured down into the valley. For a second he thought about spitting out the head, but decided to keep it. It would make a nice trophy for Nyramyn.

By the time he returned to the campsite, the other two were awake. Mirelle had packed up most of her things, save for her cookware which she was using to make herself breakfast. Her padded leather flight jacket lay across a smaller boulder, warming in the sun. The light made the golden diamond patterns glow. Nyramyn was down in the water, drinking. As Revaramek swept in overhead, she splashed about in a pool, chasing the fish and laughing.

The only thing that kept Revaramek from laughing with her was the sheep head still in his jaws. But it was good to see she was still in such a happy mood. He hoped she didn’t wear herself out before the day even began, but he wasn’t going to deny her the simple pleasures she was still learning to enjoy. As much as she loved swimming back home, he could only imagine how wonderful it must be to be able to play in the water, and know it was no longer slowly killing her.

Revaramek tossed the headless sheep carcass to the ground as he came in for a landing. It tumbled across the moss, bloodying the green carpet. He touched down, and trotted to a stop. Then he spat out the sheep’s head, and licked the blood from his muzzle. The dragon stretched his limbs, and folded his wings back against his body before he turned towards Mirelle.

“Morning, Mirelle!”

“Hey, Rev.” She waved at him, then stared at the sheep’s head. “Why did you…never mind.”

“It’s for Nyra!” Revaramek tossed the head over.

“What part of never mind don’t you understand?” Mirelle stared at him, tapping her spoon against her cookpot. “Wait, you brought her a severed head?”

“Don’t make it sound so macabre, Mirelle.” Revaramek grasped one of the horns in a paw, lifting the head. The sheep’s maw hung open, and its tongue flopped out. Blood dribbled off its tongue and from its torn neck. “It’s a trophy!”

“That’s disgusting.”

“Says you.” Revaramek lifted his voice as his mate clambered up over the edge of the island. “Nyra! I brought you something!”

“Is it a hunting trophy?” Nyramyn hurried across the mossy ground, half-furled wings bouncing at her sides.

“See, Mirelle?” Revaramek flashed her a smug grin before turning his attention completely to his mate. “Yes, love, it is!” He held the head up for her as she approached him. “Look how big the horns are!”

“Oh, they’re magnificent!” Nyramyn lowered her head to stare at the trophy, her finned tail tip swishing against the moss. “Your creatures here are so odd!”

Mirelle ladled her breakfast onto a wooden plate, then gestured with her cooking spoon. “You know, that head was going to be attached to the sheep anyway. Tearing it off doesn’t…” Mirelle shook her head, lowering her ladle. “And, she can’t understand me.”

“It’s the gesture anyway, Mirelle.” Revaramek smiled at her. Nyranym took the sheep’s head to inspect it. She tilted it back and forth, looking it over. While she examined it, Revaramek went on. “You see, dragons are complicated creatures. Especially dragons like Nyramyn. She likes formal gestures, and complicated rituals. I wouldn’t expect you to be able to understand the deeper significance of this sort of thing.”

Nyramyn plopped the sheep’s bloodied head atop Revaramek’s head, giggling musical laughter. “There! Now you have horns again!”

Mirelle burst out laughing along with her. “Oh yeah, real complicated!”

Revaramek flattened his ears back as blood trickled down his scales. “Oh, shut up, Mirelle.” He shook himself, and the head toppled back to the moss.

Still laughing, Nyramyn trotted over to the rest of the sheep. “Is this my breakfast?”

“Not all of it.” Revaramek followed her, licking at droplets of sheep blood that ran down his muzzle. “Unless you want all of it. I haven’t eaten yet, but I can always catch something else for myself on the way.”

Nyramyn took a breath, and blasted fire across the sheep, burning away most of its wool, and singeing the skin beneath. Then she flopped down on her belly alongside the thing, glancing at Revaramek. “Do you ever want new horns?”

“What do you mean?”

“You could affix some to your head, if you wanted.” She patted the ground near her with her tail, inviting him to join her meal.

Revaramek settled in next to her, scrunching his muzzle. “Oh, no. I’m not tying some sheep’s horns to my head.” He flicked his ears forward, but flattened his spines. “Why, don’t you like the way I look without my horns?”

Nyramyn cupped his chin in her paw, smiling. “You look immensely handsome, love. I’ve never known you to have full horns. I have trouble picturing it, anyway. It was just a passing thought.”

“Well, you should know.” Revaramek tilted his head to lick at her paw. “That I had the most immaculate, magnificent, resplendent pair of horns you’ve ever imagined.”

Nyramyn just smiled at him. “No, you didn’t.”

Revaramek snorted. “Did too. Ask Mirelle.”

“Alright.” Nyramyn glanced back at Mirelle. “Did Revaramek have impressive horns, or simply adequate horns?”

Mirelle give them a blank stare, then shrugged.

“Sounds like adequate, to me.”

“Nonsense.” Revaramek used his claws to slice away a tender bite of meat, and offer it to Nyramyn. “She just refuses to get involved.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being adequate.” Nyramyn ate the meat, licked his paw, and then fed him a piece in return. “Why, last night, you were perfectly adequate.”

“All I heard was that I was perfect.”

“Of course, you did.” Nyramyn nipped his neck, laughing. “The only thing you’re perfect at is exaggerating your own importance.”

“Hey Rev.”

Revaramek turned his head to gaze back at Mirelle. “Yes?”

Mirelle waved her pot at the dragons. “I’m going to go get a quick bath in the river, and wash my cookware. When I’m back, I’ll get out the map. I think we should reach the desert today.”

“Very well, Mirelle.” He took another bite of food from Nyra, then called out. “Be aware the water is quiet cold.”

“Which is why it’s going to be a very quick bath, and then back to the fire!”

Together, Revaramek and Nyramyn finished off the rest of the sheep. Revaramek ate slowly, and got Nyramyn to eat part of his share too. They ate just about everything, all the meat and most of the organs, leaving just the digestive tract for the scavengers. Revaramek broke open a few of the largest bones, and let Nyramyn lick out the marrow, cautioning her to be careful with the sharp edges. The meal was just enough for two dragons without leaving either of them too full to comfortably fly.

By the time they were finished, Mirelle had returned from her bath, and was dressed and settled near the remnants of the fire. She had her back to the flames, with the large map they followed removed from its leather scroll case and spread out across the moss. She weighted down its corners with a mug, a boot, a stone, and a strap from the dragon’s safety harness. As Revaramek returned to her, Mirelle traced a finger across the map.

“We’re about here.” She tapped the map, glancing up at the dragon.

Revaramek peered at the map, tilting his head. Though he’d originally planned to bring Enora with them as she was the only one who had ever seen their destination, his plans changed when Nyramyn announced she was going with. Instead, he asked Enora to help the gryphons care for Korakos while they were away. While they meant Enora could help Jekk and the others continue their research, it also left Revaramek and his friends forced to follow a map.

The map itself was brand new. Jekk had brought in the village’s best cartographers to help craft it. They started with maps of the area, and known passes through the mountains, then had Enora point out landmarks she remembered, locations she saw from the air, and so on. Eventually they were able to come up with the most likely route Aylaryl had taken when she flew Enora and Asterbury into the desert. Unless Asterbury decided to literally move the mountains, there were only so many places they could safely cross. While Revaramek no longer doubted the urd’thin could do such things, there was no reason to believe he had. So the cartographers created several new maps with routes highlighted for Revaramek to follow.

“You’re right.” The dragon licked his nose. “It does look like we’re almost there.” He lifted his head and glanced back to his mate. “If we travel as far today as we have the last few days, we might be at the edge of the desert by sundown.”

“That would be nice.”

The dragon lowered his muzzle to the map, gesturing with a single claw tip at the area where the mountains were depicted as dwindling into foothills, at the edge of a vast ocean of sand. “We should stop for the night somewhere in here, if she can make it that far.”

“I agree.” Mirelle swatted his paw away. “Now go wash up before you get blood on the map.”

Revaramek snorted as he pulled his paw back. “We’ve got others.”

After Revaramek and Nyramyn rinsed the meal from their scales, Revaramek returned to let Mirelle get him harnessed up. He shifted back and forth, lifted a limb here and there, and did whatever he could to make it easier for her to buckle everything up. The cargo pouches settled against his chest. They still felt a little odd to him, but no more so than the network of straps against his scales. Nothing he wore was uncomfortable, at least. Mirelle strapped on her section of the safety harness, and climbed up onto his back.

Revaramek led them back into the sky, and deeper into the valley. With each passing our of flight, the mountains changed. The towering, angular peaks did not reach quite so far into the sky. Their jagged edges rounded off. The gray hues darkened, and soon faint hints of darker colors mixed in. Red ridges ran along the backs of smaller peaks. The valley, changed too. The river that cut it was slowly divided up into its feeder streams, each meandering away in another direction. Sand stone cliffs jutted up around those smaller feeder streams, each with their own little valley.

When the time came to pause for lunch, there was little valley left to follow. But by then, the mountains were easier to fly over, and the sun made for a fine compass. They stopped upon a rounded hill dappled with weathered sandstone boulders amidst tufts half dried grass, and isolated pine trees. Revaramek hunted more sheep while Nyramyn rested her wings. After they were full and Nyra had a bit of rest, they returned to the sky.

The mountains continued their transformation. To Revaramek, they seemed to somehow both shrink and expand. They did not tower as high as before, and lacked the same spires of stone, and the truly monumental cliffs. But at the same time, each mountain stretched wider than before, flatter but covering a larger distance with their earthen creases. Smaller ridges jutted from wider, gentler slopes covered in sagebrush and juniper. At first the ridges and lesser cliffs were still partly gray, granite and limestone. Gradually, they were increasingly replaced by long lines of dark red-gold sandstone. Murky lines on the cliffs and ridges provided evidence of the mountain’s tears in the wetter springtime.

By the time the sun was settling towards the earth behind them, the hills beneath them were wide, but low. They were barren and rocky, their slopes covered in scree. The stone had a blistered, orange color to it. Green lines snaked between the hills were little creeks cut pathway, and watered hardy vegetation. Birds roosted in the stands of trees along the small waterways. A small, four-legged predator crossed one of the stony slopes. Revaramek wasn’t sure what it was, a coyote, or some sort of desert fox, perhaps.

In the distance, the setting sunlight shone upon golden sand.

Revaramek wasn’t sure if his first glimpse left him more excited, or nervous.

“I think we’re here.”

“Find a place to land.” Mirelle called to him, patting his neck. “Somewhere we can fill up my canteens, and all those big water pouches we brought for you two.”

Revaramek translated the plan for Nyramyn, and then went into a circling pattern. Each circle he made was wider than the last. Nyramyn flew to the north, and circled in the opposite direction, so that between the two of them they could cover more ground. Eventually Nyramyn called out that she had found a suitable place, and Revaramek flew to meet her.

Nyramyn landed as Revaramek drew near, and he followed her down to the earth. Between two hills, a large pool of emerald water lay at a deep bend in a small creek. Trees and brush surrounded the water, and grasses spread beyond them, giving the dragons a more comfortable place to lay for the night.

As Mirelle dismounted and removed the harness, Revaramek gazed at the trees lining the pool of water. Most of the trees looked like relatives of species Revaramek knew, but some were totally unfamiliar. A few of them had leaves like giant fans. Others had vast networks of spindly boughs holding up broad, flat canopies. In several places, other plants jutted from the rocky earth, looking like nothing more than a collection of broad, thick leaves stuck together. Tiny thorns decorated them. A few had bright flowers or dark red fruits tipping their strange branches.

“I’ve never seen anything like this place!” Nyramyn wandered around as Revaramek helped Mirelle remove his harness. She nosed a rock over, staring at it. “This one has bugs under it!”

“That’s hardly unusual, Nyra.” Revaramek shook his head, glancing at Mirelle. “I think the longer she spends here, the more she acts like a hatchling, curious and wondrous about every little thing.”

“As happy as that makes me, you should probably tell her not to go poking her nose in dark places here.” Mirelle tugged the last bits of harness off him, and spread it out across the grass. “There. You’re free.”

Revaramek shook himself, and then padded across the rough ground to join his mate. She pushed over an old, desiccated tree stomp, then lowered her head to inspect what lay beneath it. “Revaramek, look, a spider snake, missing its legs! And…its teeth.”

“That’s just a snake, Nyra.” Revaramek glanced down under the overturned stomp. A small snake with bright yellow patterns down its back sat coiled up, head cocked. “And…I don’t know what kind that is, so, let’s just leave it be.” Revaramek nudged her till she backed away, then gave her cheek a lick. “For that matter, let’s not go overturning every little log and stone we see, hmm?”

“I thought you said there was nothing poisonous or dangerous in this world?” Nyramyn tilted her head, her ears perked. A flicker of concern shone in her eyes as they caught the fading sunlight.

“In the marsh.” Revaramek grit his teeth. “Remember when I warned you I didn’t know what we’d find out here?”

“But I thought you meant angry little world-breaking urd’thin?”

That made the dragon laugh. He draped his wing over Nyramyn to guide her back towards Mirelle. “I sure as hell not. But the possibility there could be a trap or something did cross my mind. It just…” Revaramek licked his nose, staring out at the distance, gold sands. “It doesn’t seem likely, anymore. But I have no idea what might be out there. Or even what might be right here.” He waved his paw at the barren landscape around them. “I’m sure there are…all sorts of desert creatures who come to this area, looking for water. Maybe none of them are dangerous. Maybe all of them are.”

“They can’t all be dangerous.”

Revaramek pulled her against him, hugging her with his wing. “Nyra, you know I love you. And I love seeing you so happy and curious again.”

Nyramyn smiled, and nuzzled his cheek. “As short as my time may be, Rev, what reason could I ever have not to try and explore and see and experience everything your world has to offer?”

“I agree, Nyra.” Revaramek sighed, returning her nuzzle. After a moment, he shifted to pull back from her, and cup her muzzle in his paw. “But if Korakos was here, would you let him wander around, lifting every rock he saw, not knowing what manner of venomous creature may be hiding beneath?”

“Certainly not!” Nyramyn flattened her spines back, glancing away. “I suppose I see your point.”

“Good!” Revaramek released her, then licked her nose.

“I shall have you lift them for me, instead.” Nyramyn turned towards the creek, bumping him with her haunches.

“Oh no.” Revaramek followed her to the water, then hurried ahead to scythe down some of the thicker brush for her with his claws and tail. “Not until I’ve found what I need to cure you. Once I’m sure there’s not a trace of poison left in you, then I’ll risk my life for your amusement.”

“I suppose I can wait that long.” Nyra gave him a lick of thanks as she passed through the brush, then lowered her head to sniff at the water. “It smells different.”

“Good different or bad different?”

“It’s not poisonous. I don’t think.” She curled her tongue against the water, lapping at it. “Tastes good, at least. Not as cold as before.”

“Different source than the water of the mountains, or the marsh.”

Revaramek eased up alongside her. She was right, the water did smell a little different. It held hints of earth and minerals that he hadn’t detected in water before, but nothing about it set him ill at ease. He took a drink, and found that while it tasted a little stronger than the marsh water, it was still pleasant enough. When his thirst was quenched, he turned away from the pool to go and find Mirelle.

“Oh, Rev!” Nyramyn sounded excited again. “Look at this!”

“You’d better not be poking your nose where it doesn’t belong again.” With a sigh, the dragon turned back around.

“You don’t have to keep telling me that.”

“Now you know how I felt whenever we went exploring in the ruins.”

Nyramyn lifted her head, her frills flat. She glared at him. “I seem to recall you ignoring my warnings, and getting stung right on the nose by-”

“If you get stung by anything out here, not only do I have no idea what it will do to you, but I wouldn’t have the first clue about how to treat it. Or if there’s anything around here that will treat it. So please, Nyra. I’m not just trying to irritate you.”

“I haven’t been poking my nose anywhere, regardless.” Nyramyn lowered her head to stare at an odd, rounded plant. “It’s a big, fat, round thorn vine!”

Revaramek inspected the thing as they approached it. The plant was one single growth, about as tall as Mirelle’s knees, and pale green and round. It was also covered with hundreds of tiny, sharp looking needles. “I don’t think that’s a thorn vine. Or…any kind of vine. But whatever it is, don’t touch it.”

“It’s covered in needles, Revaramek, I wasn’t going to touch it.”

“Mirelle.” Revaramek glanced back to where they’d landed. “Do you know what this thing is?”

“Nope!” Mirelle walked off, her knife in one hand, something red and juicy in the other. She stared down at the mystery plant, licking red juice from her lips. “I think it’s…uh…what’s the word? Cat-something? No, that’s not right.” She took another bite of whatever she was holding it, chewing it thoughtfully. Then her eyes lit up. “Oh! Cactus! That’s what it was.”

“Oh, of course!” Revaramek flopped onto his haunches to clap his forepaws in glee. “It’s a cactus, just like in the stories! I’ve never seen one before.” He smiled at Nyramyn, translated best he could, and then realized what Mirelle was doing. He quickly swatted the rest of the red thing out of her hands. “Stop that!”

“What the hell, Rev!” Mirelle stomped against the rocky ground. “I was eating that!”

“I know!” Revaramek snarled in frustration. “That’s what I knocked it away. Do you even know what it is? Where did you even get it?”

Mirelle pointed with her knife. “I cut it off that plant over there.”

“And what exactly is that plant?”

Mirelle shrugged. “I dunno, but-”

“But you don’t know if it’s poisonous or not!”

With a sigh, Mirelle sheathed her knife and folded her arms. “Enora said there was some kind of…red fruit out here that-”

“I see three plants by the water with red fruits, too.” Revaramek snapped his teeth. “Are you going to try those, next?”

“If they look like the ones Enora described-”

“Why am I suddenly the reasonable one?” Revaramek tossed his head, heading back towards the camp site. He curled his tail around Mirelle’s middle. “C’mon. No one else is eating anything strange until we see if it’s in that book we brought. If it is, and it says it edible, then you can eat it.”

Mirelle tugged at Revaramek’s tail. “Rev, Enora described the plant to me, and that’s it. Flat leaves with tiny needles, bright flowers, elongated red fruit with thorny rind. That’s it.”

“And I can describe a dozen snakes from the marsh, Mirelle, at least one of which resembles the one Nyramyn exposed.” He shot his mate a glare over his wings. “That doesn’t mean a similar looking snake here is just as safe to handle.”

“Suppose you have a point.”

Only when Mirelle relented did Revaramek release her from his tail’s coils. “Mirelle as much as I’d love to celebrate you finally admitting I’m right about something, I’d rather just get you to look up that fruit you were eating so we know if we need to make you vomit or not.”

Revaramek padded away as Mirelle went through the cargo pouches to fetch the book about known desert worlds. He spread his wings, and glanced back at the others. “I’ll hunt Nyra and myself some dinner, and-”

“Are you sure you know what’s safe to hunt, before I look it up in the book?” Mirelle spread out a blanket, and thumped the book down on it.

“Don’t be cranky just because you’re wrong, Mirelle. I’ll hunt dinner, and then I’ll fetch wood for you to build a fire. We all need plenty of rest tonight. Tomorrow…” He trailed off, staring out across the horizon. With the sun setting behind the mountains, the sunset left the distance sands aglow, like molten earth. “Tomorrow we search for Asterbury’s oasis.”