“Yes, but what about magic, where did it go and why?”
—Prince Habib, Commentary on Pena “On the Origins of Ponies*(*and Others) and Magic”
“Wakey, wakey eggs and… fish.” Rizi poked at Gwen. With her stick. A large catfish was impaled on the end of it.
“Oh hey, nice wakeup call. Are there really eggs?”
“Chicken.”
“Really?”
Rizi pointed at a bird hanging upside down.
“No kidding. What luck. Are you going to eat?”
“Already” Rizi smiled and rubbed her stomach. “Rooster”.
“You’re having fun with seven letter words, aren’t you?”
“Plainly. Rizi will nap now, okay?”
“Sure Rizi, wake you when we’re all packed and ready to go?” Rizi nodded. Gwen sat up and took the catfish. Her claws had it peeled and roasted over the fire swiftly.
She packed up the campsite and put out the fire.
It was quiet. A wildcat yowled in the distance. Insects buzzed. After filling the canteens at a spring, a quick bath, and some basic preening, she woke Rizi, and they began their journey anew.
Rizi’s pack had grown tight again, and she adjusted it. Perhaps her cloak had shrunk a bit? She loosened the clasp slightly. She had to loosen her peytral also, which lowered it a bit more than she liked. Had the straps shrunk?
Rizi walked and Gwen flew through a forest of 60 length deciduous trees full of broad leaves. Suddenly they came to a break. The hills continued much as before, but the trees and greenery had all been stripped. All the trees were bare of leaves and even small branches.
Some foul whitish substance covered the ground and it smelled of death and decay.
“Oh, my bird, that's foul. Pardon the pun.” Said Gwen, landing on a stump uncoated by the nasty discharge. “What happened here? Have you ever seen anything like it? Have you ever smelled anything like it?”
“Yes, yes, very long ago. Smells like bat guano or glowworm cave. Excrement everywhere, yes.”
“So, what happened to the land?”
“Something ate it, pooped it out.”
“But what could do that?” The devastation went for canters, all the way to the far northern horizon. That far horizon was the ocean. They had nearly reached the northern shore.
“Who knows, insect swarm, maybe?”
The nasty slop made for treacherous footing and Rizi was glad for her pointed stick. She soon added a second stick as she trudged through the mess. Gwen offered to carry her, but Rizi declined. Flying wasn’t an experience the underground loving kobold was ready for just yet.
They declined camping as the mess was everywhere and it had covered any signs of a trail. They were now just heading north vaguely following the last heading they had been sure of. That evening Rizi called a halt. The moon was down, and the slop and lack of vegetation made night travel impossible, even to the normally well sighted kobold. They scraped an area clear of the muck by using some bark and bedded down in a tiny square clear of the nasty filth. Gwen offered to take first watch and she flew concentric circles high above their pitiful campsite. Rizi had not fallen asleep yet when Gwen excitedly returned. “Rizi, Rizi, there’s a fire. It's just a few canters off! Grab your stuff, and let's go!”
Rizi repacked her bedroll and stood up. Where had Gwen flown off to?
There was an impact from behind, and suddenly Rizi was flying, clutched in her companion’s talons, her legs and tail held gently by her rear paws.
Rizi screamed for nearly a canter as they rose into the sky. Only the darkness and inability to clearly see the ground let her heart calm enough to begin to talk again.
“Put Rizi down now catbird! Rizi is not a field mouse!”
“Yea no kidding, you're a lot heavier than you look… and bigger than I thought, did you grow some?” The griffon flapped hard and rocked from side to side as their ascent switched to a descent. “We’re almost there, look!”
Rizi had clutched her eyes closed, and now she reopened them. She wailed and peed for nearly a canter as they swooped down a steep glide slope to the fire far below.
Flapping furiously, Gwen gently slowed their descent and softly placed Rizi once more upon the sandy earth. She lay there in a tiny ball shivering.
“Oh, don’t be a baby. Ferocious fire breathing dragons and giant pony griffons you are ok with, but a little night flight through calm air and you go to pieces?”
“Rizi is not a field mouse!” She shook and shivered. “Horsemarket never drag Rizi flying through air! No, no, neither did dragons!”
The fire was burning, but there was no sign of a griffon. They were past the awful goop, and between two sand dunes.
“Rizi, stay here, I’ll fly and look for the others. They must be close.
“Rizi doesn’t think Rizi can move, no.”
“Oh hush, I’ll be right back.”
The moon had come up, but it was reddish orange. A full lunar eclipse apparently. She stared at it feeling uneasy wondering what the seers would make of it. After a few minutes Rizi walked over to the fire. It ruined her night vision, but it warmed her after her harrowing flight.
There was a thunk noise from farther up the sand dune ahead of her. Rizi looked up. There was something small in the sand, but she couldn’t make it out. She stood up and took a step. There was another thunk noise, this one off to the side. Rizi turned her head. A stick with feathers on the end had appeared in the sand up the cliff.
Rizi turned around. There was an orange blob halfway up the sand dune behind her, it was almost the temperature of the surrounding sand dune. It was not shaped like a griffon, not at all.
“Rizi asks what you are, or who?”
The blob tried to stand up. Now it looked more like a griffon. It held a bow and arrow. A shout and a cry came from it. The arrow moved from the bow to foot, where bright hot red ran down into the sand.
“You shot yourself with an arrow?” Rizi asked in disbelief.
The blob drew another arrow. It notched it and in what suddenly became slow motion aimed it right at Rizi and let fly.
The blob griffon went crashing to the ground as another griffon tackled the one in front of her from behind. But Rizi barely noticed. A black feathered shaft was sticking out from just above her peytral, it had two warm spots on the end where claws had touched it moments ago. There was pain. Just pain. It felt like it came from everywhere at once. The worst pain Rizi had ever felt. After a moment she realized it was coming not from the tiny hole where the feather had struck, but from behind her, in her back. Suddenly unable to stand she toppled forward onto the sand.
Face to the sand, brilliant red blood ran down her claws. Super bright, hotter than any mammals, heated by the campfire, the darkness let her see her hot blood run into the sand from the hole in her chest and behind her, down her arms and sides, wetness even ran down her tail into the sand where it cooled in dimmer orange pools and tiny rivulets all around her.
There was fighting and yelling behind her, and then silence.
Claws shifted her gently, there was cursing and shouting. The feathers in her chest were snapped off. Suddenly Gwen was there, her hot bird breath on Rizi’s face smelling of catfish and she was saying something.
“Stay awake.”
Silly Gwen. That isn’t seven letters.