//------------------------------// // Chapter 8 — Culture Shock (Huoshan I) // Story: Pom's Chapter — A Novelization of a Story That Doesn't Yet Exist // by AIPomgeon //------------------------------// "Ye cannae be serious! Please tell me it's a joke!" Pom stands before Captain Estrela, eyes nearly watering, begging for mercy. Estrela looks at the pathetic display and repeats herself. "Two hundred and sixty salt." "But I dinnae have that much! I... I've not a quarter of it!" Tapping her hoof against Pom's chin the captain quips, "You should consider it a mercy that we forgot to charge your dogs until now. If you want to come back with us, I expect that debt paid in full, and full price for the return trip. One hundred and twenty for the dogs, one hundred and forty for all of you, two hundred and sixty salt." "That's robbery!" cries Pom. "Are you accusing us of piracy? A pirate would've shaken you down in the open ocean. We're honest freighters, who expect an honest pay. If you don't have the salt, you'll simply have to find another way home." "Wait! Please!!" Pom shouts as the black goat returns to her ship. "Weigh anchor, we're headed home." "Aye, captain!" a sailor shouts. "Gosh, that was a good one, the look on her face!" Estrela, of course, never 'forgot' the charge. When she had stepped off the ship, Pom thought she was standing in a gigantic pile of ash. Black sand covers the shoreline of the volcano, transitioning into a rocky outcropping further in, also black. Climbing up the jagged, uneven terrain sounds like it'd be a nightmare on Pom's hooves, let alone her dogs' paws, but she mercifully doesn't have to, as a winding path made of black and gold stone, adorned with lanterns at fixed intervals, extends from the shoreline all the way up the mountain. Above Pom rests an uninviting orange sky, and the peak of the volcano is obscured entirely by clouds. Were the path descending instead of ascending, one might assume this were the entrance to hell. Pom stops, looking over her letter one last time. She's here... despite the cost. All she has to do is transfer it to some soldier—which, from how Tianhuo described Huoshan, is one hundred percent of longma—and... well, she's done with this. If she had been more proactive she may have been able to give it to one of the longma who collected cargo from the Landracegeder, though they were already finished and out of sight before Pom even herded her dogs onto the deck. What comes next, Pom decides to think about later. Maybe she won't even need to, and the longma will give Pom a ride to Baaah, or Reine, or anywhere that isn't stranded on a volcano. Pom wipes her brow, drawing away sweat. "Be good, all of you, and stick close tae me. I dinnae wanna lose ye here." she tells her pups, individually embracing them. With that, Pom begins the climb. The higher Pom ascends, the steeper the mountain becomes. After a while it becomes difficult to climb, and Pom can't help but wonder if the longma even take this path that often, given their flight. Fortunately for her, at the point where it starts to feel like her hooves might slip the path detaches itself from the mountain altogether, turning into a narrow bridge supported by vertical pillars. With less of a need to conform to the shape of the mountain the path winds like a serpent, sometimes staying close to the natural terrain and other times soaring a dozen feet out from the base. The size of the drop, should she fall off, fills Pom with dread; she could actually survive a long fall most likely, given how light she is, but the same could not be said for someone like Big Papa. Pom nervously glances back, taking a head count before carrying on. Perimeter guard duty is perhaps the least rewarding position in the Huoshan Empire. What is there to guard against? Beyond a rare zebra bearing gifts, or that one doe who keeps trying to get in, there are no trespassers or tourists in this sacred land. Any longma who signs up for guard duty does so with the hope—the dream—of becoming an internal guard for the Daughter of Heaven, but it tragically is not meant for all. Sitting atop the great wall, the lowly guard assigned for this shift ponders her life decisions and whether it's too late to apply for something new. She is so lost in thought, so entrenched in the tedium of her daily job, that she fails to notice the faint knocking at the bottom or the wall. Neither does she notice the calls for attention, even when they turn to shouts. She does notice, however, the flying dog suspended in front of her, propelled by its tail. And yapping incessantly. "Puff! Get down here! I told ye not tae do that!" Having gotten the guard's attention, Puff lands into Pom's embrace. "Oh lad, ye know I don't like that. I dinnae want ye to fall." she scolds, before playfully roughing him—as bad as it was, she'd never seen him jump so high before, almost something to be proud of. The guard stares down, leaning from the top of wall, dumbfounded at the sight. She knows what that thing is—that's a sheep! ...she's pretty sure it's a sheep. The longma rushes back to the guard-post and blows gust off the guidebook. She leafs through it, past the common guidelines on goats, zebra, deer, through the footnotes on antelope, camels, cows, tapirs. The guidebook contains references to visits by the Order of the Horn and even one-off freak encounters with dik-diks and giraffes... but no matter how much she checks and doublechecks, there is nothing on the Sheeple. Are they banished? But if there were an explicit decree like that it'd be written in this very rulebook. Maybe the lamb can be easily spooked away; they did get conquered by wolves, apparently, probably not too hardy... "Hey!" a voice above Pom shouts. Pom jolts at the sudden noise, instinctively backing away and nearly stepping off the bridge. She looks up, and more than thirty feet above her the head of a gray-scaled longma pokes out. Pom can make out some vague red clothing, but it and the longma's flames seem to be the only splashes of color; gray scales, a white underbelly pattern visible from the neck, and gray eyes that, like Tianhuo's, cross certain wires in Pom's brain and activate whatever part of it produces fear. Pom had the chance to become acclimated to Tianhuo's looks, but it seems not enough to override instinct. Doing her best to behave rationally and treat the guard like a normal ungulate, Pom shouts "H-H-Hello!" and forces a smile. "I don't think you should be here. I'm sure what you're doing isn't that important, please shoo." says the guard. Feeling that may not have been enough, she steps away from the ledge, then pops back out, waggling her hooves with a "Boo!" The weak attempt at a scare is barely even recognized, but Pom's body nevertheless starts speaking for her. "Sorry! I'll be going!" she shouts, turning around and walking back down the path. The guard, satisfied with the job they did, trots away to tell someone about this. Fifty paces from the great wall, Pom recovers from her hysteria. "Och, what am I doing?" she scolds herself, quickly returning to the wall. All six dogs sit as they were, none of them plussed at all; they know their caretaker, if nothing else, would never leave them behind. Pom just needs to explain her task to the guard and it'll be— Two of them. Next to the gray-scaled guard is a turquoise longma in similar red clothing. They had been chatting about the situation, until the newcomer points at Pom's return. The two longma exchange glances, having a conversation that Pom cannot hear, staring at her all the while with those... sharp eyes. The gray guard gestures something to the other, and in response he speaks. "What is your purpose here, sheep?" "I need tae," Pom begins, reflexively feeling the letter on her collar to make sure it wasn't somehow stolen again, "deliver a message." The pair of guards converse for a moment, and the turquoise asks, "what is the message?" "I mean I, it's not a verbal message it's a..." Pom stops speaking and plucks the envelope with her teeth, holding it up. "Mmm?" she gestures through closed teeth. "Who is it for?" asks the gray ones. "I'm... not really sure. I think it's for... the Empress?" At the mention of the Empress the guards get into an even more heated, still inaudible, conversation. Eventually one says, "Please wait here." and both of them rush away at once. Pom leans into Big Mama, more concerned by the minute. Four of them! Pom's concern bolsters itself each time a new face appears. Accompanying the confused guards are two additional longma. The less intimidating of the two, a thin-looking orange one, practically gawks at Pom, no subtlety or attempt to hide his bewilderment. The other isn't much better at hiding his expression: abject disdain. A crimson longma, at least a foot taller than Tianhuo and broader as well, glares down at Pom. In contrast to the longma Pom had previously met, whose flames all had the reddish-orange hue expected of fire, this one's flames burn a bright yellow. At once he descends. Without fear the giant longma steps off the ledge and lets gravity take him. The moment he begins fallin, both Mama and Papa begin barking in fury, viewing it as an attack. He accelerates as he drops, quickly reaching a dangerous speed—and at the final possible moment his wings flare, spreading beyond the width of the bridge, decelerating him with a single flap. Four large hooves stomp against the stone like a seismic quake. Pom, who had been trying so hard, loses control of herself at the impact. Her legs move on their own, propelling her away from the crimson beast before her. Everything fading but raw survival instinct, Pom ignores her obligations, her situation—and her elevation. One hoof steps off the bridge, then a second, then both hind legs push Pom away in a leap toward another platform that doesn't exist. Pom falls. "No you do not!" Two strong forelegs catch Pom in midair, wrapping around her chest from behind; two hind legs support her lower half to keep her from slipping. Pom snaps out of shock to find herself in the unavoidable, inescapable grasp of the red soldier. The longma swiftly returns to the bridge, dropping Pom atop it before landing himself. Heart racing and adrenaline pumping, Pom's ears ring too hard for her to understand the longma's words: "Be less clumsy! You nearly got yourself killed for no reason." Every dog threatens the half-dragon with barks and growls, putting the guards above on alert. "Call off your wolves, sheep." he instructs sternly, his gold eyes barreling down on her. Pom is unresponsive, too focused on trying to calm herself. Now is the worst possible time to get like this, she's too close. Pom begins to stand, shakily stepping toward her companions to feel safer, but the longma prods at her side, anger boiling. "Hey! Don't turn your back on me, you're the one who came here!" This is the final straw for Big Papa, who lunges at the soldier with a horrific snarl that rouses Pom's notice. "Call off the wolves!" he shouts. Guards descend to defend their superior. The pups get in position to stop flanks. Mama prepares for her own counterattack. Pom, still dazed, struggles to keep up. Drawing one massive breath, she begs, "Please, I need a MINUTE!" The crimson longma silently counts the seconds as Pom, embraced by her flock, quickly calms down. The gray guard tries to approach from the side of the bridge, but Mama easily scares her away. "Private Potunghui, fetch me a pail of water." the crimson one says to her. "For the sheep?" "I will determine what it's to be used for!" As the one referred to as Potunghui flies away, the orange longma who arrived third approaches and asks, "Sir, given the circumstance, I believe we should get—" Performing an about face the red brute shouts, "If you get HER I will see to it you spend the next one hundred years scrubbing floors!" "But—" "With your tongue!" "Understood, sir!" Pom, so close to the group of longma, has a much better look at them than before. Every one of the guards wears a small, identical maroon vest with a thin gold trim and decorative flame patterns. The crimson one adds to this outfit a helmet with a slit for the flame. One peculiar detail about this longma, besides his size, is a set of flamelike markings on his legs, from the base of his hooves to the ankle on his hind legs, and up to the knee joints on his front. The patterns are monotone in color and perfectly symmetrical between the left and right, like it was makeup or a dye. Pom's attention is drawn away from his hooves quickly, though, by his gravelly voice. "It's been a minute, soldier. Time to talk." The longma looks quite keen to approach Pom and give the third degree, having spent the last minute thinking of the exact words he wants to use. Tragically for him, though, Pom stumbles forward, letter in mouth, and drops it before him. "This is..." "Please take it, 's all I came here for." pleads Pom. The longma examines the envelope, immediately fixated on its tear. "This has been tampered with." "I promise it ha'ent. There was a... scuffle, but I cannae even read it, let alone write." Pom can hear "She's illiterate?" uttered by one of the two guards behind the crimson one. Skimming the first two lines the soldier raises an eyebrow. "This is Her Majesty's script, written perfectly... where did you get this from, soldier?" "I'm not a soldier, I—" "Where did you get this from?" he repeats, patience draining. "I had tae come here and deliver it for Tianhuo. Please take it." Every longma in proximity double takes. The turquoise guard breaks rank, hovering over Pom. "You got this from Tianhuo, Most Noble and Virtuous Captain of—" "I'm the interrogator here soldier, back of the line!" roars the crimson one. Back to Pom, he hisses, "I cannot fathom how you've gotten mixed up with our Most Noble and Virtuous Captain of the Guard Tianhuo. To be clear, though, I have every intention to find out." "...so I'm nae going home right now." "Not in the cards, soldier." Tugging at her collar, Pom barters, "This is a bit much, I'm 'ardly a fan of confrontation like this. Maybe we could sit down somewhere nice, have some tea and talk about this?" "You will not be entering our city!" The soldier squares up to Pom, as if she were about to object. "Especially with those predators behind you." "Okay..." Pom scrapes at the ground a couple times, struggling to move this forward. "May I ha'e your name?" "I should be asking you that! You come here and stir up my recruits and now you're asking requests of me?" Pom takes a deep breath. Don't take it personally, he's probably trained to do this. "I'm Pom." "Title?" "Dinnae have one." The longma clearly takes it as an insult. "I demand you tell me your title!" "...I don't have one? Really, I dinnae." "What kind of primitive, backwater place do you have to come from to not have a title?" "Huh?" "The fact that you can even speak means you should have a title! What is it?" He refuses to back down, refuses to accept a non-answer. Against her own wishes, Pom tries to oblige him. "I'm... champion?" "Foenum has a champion! It's Tianhuo, Most Noble—" "Yes, aye," Pom quickly cuts him off, "but I'm champion o' the meadow." "Do you expect me or anyone else to accept that?" "I mean... Tian did." "'Tian?!' She is to be addressed as Tianhuo, Champion of the Volcano and Most Noble and Virtuous Captain of the Guard! Every word of it! Understood?" "I ken." Pom nods. Why's he so angry? What am I doing wrong? "I've known our champion since we were born, soldier, and I'm not buying what you're selling." Pom is suddenly, though not very forcefully, poked in the chest, setting her dogs into another barking frenzy. "Tell them to shut up already!" Pom does not tell her dogs anything, one passive grasp for control over the situation. "I cannae say I know her like ye, but she seemed nice, and treated me nice. Tian was—" The longma boils over, taking flight. "She is Tianhuo, Most Noble and—" A voice cuts off his repetitive shtick. "Lieutenant Zhongweiran, could you please not scare off the sheep before I've done my tasks with her?" "I explicitly instructed you not to get HER!" The orange guard waves his hooves. "I didn't sir! I was here the entire time!" Zhongweiran faces the new voice in the crowd. "As for you, you know I'm to be addressed as Igniter of Sparks and Shaper of Wills Lieutenant Zhongweiran!" "Please cut the overt formality, we are not presently speaking in front of Her Majesty." says the interloper. Four short legs touch down in front of Pom, and a mauve longma stands half the height of Zhongweiran. 'Short' is perhaps the least accurate word to describe her, however; as if to compensate for her limbs, the longma's body stretches several feet longer than that of the guards. More than anyone else she could be described as serpentine—though the first thing to come up in Pom's mind, something she would never say aloud, is a certain breed of sheepdog. Without moving her hind legs at all, the longma's body twists as she faces Pom. Two magenta eyes provide that trademark longma stare, but this time contrasted with an almost alarmingly cordial demeanor. "Please forgive my tardiness, had I known sooner of your arrival I would have beaten this one to the punch." The longma extends a hoof, and Pom nervously accepts. "I am Huoreshi, Enligh—" A warm splash of water douses Huoreshi's flames, catching Pom in the crossfire. Pom sees the expression of shock on Huoreshi's face, quickly turning to embarrassment. "Thank you, Private Potunghui." says Zhongweiran, handle of a pail in mouth. He drops it and instructs, "I may need another before this is finished." "Yes, sir!" Potunghui collects the bucket and flies off. Embarrassment turns to anger. Gently retracting her hoof from Pom's, Huoreshi nearly crashes into her crimson aggressor, pink flames renewed and twice as bright as before. "Are you trying to keep me from doing my job?!" she demands. "You're not needed here, soldier. I have this taken care of!" "This is not your jurisdiction, it is solely mine!" Zhongweiran groans loudly. "Is it? You are our Enlightened Historian." "Enlightened Historian and Officer of Foreign Interests, you who obsess over titles. The lamb is foreign, and is absolutely in our interests." "I was about to dismiss her, she's a messenger and nothing more." "I watched you, you were not about to dismiss her! You were ready to play with her until sundown!" "As if that's not what you wish to do?" Zhongweiran muses. Flames roaring hotter, Huoreshi shouts, "It is not 'play' for me, you know my position better than just about anyone!" "I know you're about to let that sheep bring six wolves into our capital if I don't stop you." Pom weakly steps in. "Um, they're not wolves." "This is the first time a member of the Sheeple has come here and just about the first contract between us since the fall of the Predators, and you want to just turn her away?!" "Yes. Because she is traveling with wolves!" "Not wolves..." Pom murmurs. Huoreshi's hoof knocks against Zhongweiran's armor. "You will not impede my collection of this untold history." Zhongweiran bumps his chest against Huoreshi's, craning his neck to look down at her. "This is the one time I have to stop you from doing your job." Huoreshi stands up on her hind legs, craning at Zhongweiran instead. "Her Holiness would side with me." Zhongweiran matches her posture, meeting her almost at eye level due his massive legs. "I plan to settle this without bothering Her." Huoreshi takes flight. "Do you?" Zhongweiran kicks off the ground. "I do!" The two begin ascending, jockeying for height and hurling remarks at high speeds. Pom looks away, fearing a fight may begin. Her eyes dart to the right, then to the left— Faintly, at a far distance, Pom makes out the silhouette of a goat. She squints, and sees the aqua tone of Shanty's bandana. The goat, taking full advantage of the distraction at the bridge, effortlessly walks up the nearly vertical wall as if it were level ground. Shanty notices Pom looking in her direction and, without even slipping, quickly waves to her before resuming her climb. Pom focuses on the argument at hand. A much greater crowd of longma congregate atop the wall, dozens of them watching the two esteemed soldiers dance through the sky. The motions each of them go through are unrecognizable to Pom and she has no idea who is winning or if this is something that can be won, but one thing is clear: Zhongweiran is both faster and more dexterous than Huoreshi, going in circles around her. Despite the lack of violence Pom cannot shake her discomfort as she watches, the movements so frenetic that it feels things could come to blows at the next moment. The lieutenant's movements react to the historian's, like he too is bracing to dodge an attack that doesn't come. Huoreshi dashes toward him again and again, only for it to be a feint each time. It doesn't take too long for Pom to get a theory of what's really going on. Huoreshi is trying to bait Zhongweiran into attacking. But why? He could probably swat her out of the sky with a single strike, given his mass. Yet, feint after feint Huoreshi keeps up this tactic. The crimson longma, though, refuses to take the bait, waiting to receive the first strike. Minutes pass like this, and then, without any sign of finality from the match, Zhongweiran lands back on the bridge with a thud. "Fine, have it your way. She's your responsibility!" "Thank you, lieutenant." says Huoreshi. Zhongweiran merely shakes his head. "I'm confused," says Pom, "what happened?" "You're her responsibility now. Anything you break or bother is on her head." With a final glare, Zhongweiran takes off high in the sky, watching high overhead. The victor trots over. "Please forgive that digression. As I had meant to say, I am Enlightened Historian Huoreshi. I am very hopeful for what's to transpire today, and promise compensation if possible." "What... what do you want from me?" Pom asks. Can she get me a ride off the island? "Only to ask you some questions, I promise! Huoshan's base of knowledge on the outside world has seen better days, and it is my task to update and amend that base, especially with the recent developments in Foenum." "The Predators..." Huoreshi nods. Eyes drifting from Pom to the companions behind her, she says, "I'm sure, beyond hearing the fantastical developments of the meadow, you have great insight into predators' lifestyles." "Maybe...? But ye have tae know, the lads aren't—" Huoreshi places the tip of her hoof against Pom's lips. "Please forgive the interruption, but this is best done inside, where I can write it all down. Perhaps with some tea. Do you prefer green, white, dark?—forgive me, I'll log it once we're situated." The historian motions the two guards at the base of the bridge, and without instruction they fly to the top of the wall and begin lowering a lift. Pom, in tow with Woof, Ruff, Tuft and Puff, are pulled up. When it's lowered again, Big Mama steps on, startling the guards as the metal pulley bends slightly. With great effort, though, they and several other guards raise her up. Everyone looks down at Papa and can tell at a glance the lift would not sustain his mass. Huoreshi, stumped, calls for Zhongweiran, still perched high in the sky. "Could you help us here?" "As I said, Enlightened Historian, your responsibility!" After long deliberation, the course of action is decided upon. Half a score of longma push against the bottom of the lift, barely counterbalancing Big Papa's weight. Two longma push against the frame of the pulley to lessen its load, and the remainder present desperately turn the crank. It is a slow, painful process, but Papa manages to join the other dogs. Those underneath him nearly plummet as they flap to solid ground, all of them collapsing in a heap. "Please forgive the inconvenience," says Huoreshi to Pom. "I will take you right to my office, and we can begin."