LIGHTNOVELONLINE Chapter 47, Day 84: Devotion
Pryce woke up first, as usual. He snuck past the two slumbering dragons to get some fresh air, and almost swore when he came face-to-face with a dragon sitting by the side of the cave entrance – Ghorrah, he realized a full second later.
“Why is everyone showing up here?” he asked in exasperation, his heart still pounding from the scare.
Ghorrah didn’t respond, and instead she snaked her head past the cave entrance to glance at the younger dragon, who still drowsed beneath her father’s wing. Ghorrah pointed a talon at Pryce, then made a beckoning gesture before turning away.
Pryce followed after a moment’s thought – if she wanted to kill him then she’d already have done it, and he was curious to see what the adversarial dragon wanted with him.
He had a pretty good guess, considering yesterday’s events.
They walked for a minute, and Ghorrah stopped a good distance away from the cave, far enough that no one would hear their conversation.
Ghorrah turned to face Pryce.
«You.»
She gestured to her right wing – the same one Jooral had broken – made a snapping gesture, then reversed it.
«Heal.»
She set her forelegs back onto the ground, then pointedly tilted her head.
«Yes?»
The message was pretty clear, but Pryce wasn’t sure how to respond; a simple shrug on his part could mean “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” or “I don’t know if I can do that.”
Ghorrah growled impatiently in response to his silence. It was a sound of agitation rather than aggression, but it was still a rather terrifying noise coming from a creature the length of a bus.
“Look, I don’t know, okay? If you wanted to have a proper conversation, you should have woken Fathom,” Pryce said, focusing on his irritation to hide his anxiety.
She stopped growling, then stared at him with an undecipherable expression. When he did not elaborate, she drew herself up and suddenly lowered her head.
Thud.
Pryce flinched involuntarily – but there was no pain, and when he opened his eyes he was shocked to see Ghorrah with her arms and neck bent inwards, and the top of her head planted firmly upon the ground.
He stood staring in disbelief at the proud dragon, bowed in supplication. She couldn’t see him at all in this vulnerable position, and the only way for her to be more unguarded was if she literally rolled over.
A gentle breeze blew through the mountainside forest, and the mournful whistling noise they produced filled the silence between them like water from a burst dam.
Neither of them moved for a period of time, until Pryce let out an inordinate sigh.
Ghorrah twitched, and slowly raised her head, eyes wary.
“I don’t know you very well,” Pryce said, sitting down cross-legged as he reached into his pocket and retrieved his notebook, “but when a prideful individual bows their head, it’s usually only for the sake of someone else.” He flipped to a blank page to draw something, then ripped out the page to place it on the ground, oriented so that Ghorrah could read what he had written.
Ghorrah looked on in confusion before Pryce made the same snap and reverse gesture she had used for ‘heal’, then traced ‘!’ and ‘–’, the Draconic symbols for ‘yes’ and ‘no’.
“I will try,” Pryce said, aware he was saying “Heal yes-no,” but recognition seemed to dawn in her eyes.
Ghorrah straightened herself, eyeing him with a somewhat softer expression than the one she held before as she nodded. Pryce watched as she flew back in the direction of her home, and wondered if Jooral knew what her partner had done for her.
A few thoughtful moments later Pryce walked back to the cave, sighing in exasperation.
“What is with everyone having secret meetings with me?”
“Do you want to hunt now, or do you want to wait until sunset to make things fair?” Pryce asked, holding up the chronometer as Fathom and Celeste stretched awake.
«There is usually more prey in the morning, I don’t need an advantage to win,» Fathom said austerely.
«Are you sure? You might need it,» Celeste offered once she’d prodded him for a translation.
«Of course I am sure; we can have another competition when I beat your time tonight.»
“Alright, that’s enough of that, let’s go over what we’re going to do today,” Pryce said, “Jooral might be a bit distressed, so let’s be careful. Try not to ask any questions that might make her feel worse.” He gave both dragons a pointed look.
«Do you think Ghorrah might attack us?» Fathom asked.
«No, she would not attack you,» Celeste said, though not with as much confidence as one might have hoped. «Unless Jooral is very upset…» She trailed off, glancing at Fathom.
“...I don’t think she will either, but let’s be cautious,” Pryce said. He didn’t like keeping secrets, but he had a feeling Ghorrah would be less than happy if he told everyone what she had done.
The two dragons suddenly snapped their heads up, as if pulled by a string. Pryce followed their gaze, shielding his eyes from the sunlight to see a dragon on the horizon – Ghorrah, according to Fathom.
They exchanged greetings when she landed a minute later, which were rather stilted on Ghorrah’s side. She glanced between Fathom and Pryce for reasons obvious only to the latter. «Jooral told me yesterday that the human – Pryce,» she amended, «fixed your broken wing. Is this true?» She asked, getting straight to the point of her concern.
«Yes,» Fathom said cautiously. He unfurled his left wing and traced where the injury had been, just as he had done yesterday – though he kept a watchful eye on Ghorrah all the while.
«And…how did he fix it?» Ghorrah asked warily. «Jooral said that you did not mention how this was done.»
«I was hurt badly enough that I fell into a deep-sleep, and Pryce used that opportunity to cut off the bent parts of the bone, and used tools to keep it straight as it healed,» Fathom said, glossing over the grisly details. «As you can see, it has worked well.»
«He cut off a piece of your bone? Is that what he would do to Jooral?» Ghorrah hissed in alarm, talons digging into the rock beneath her.
“Humans have medicine that can make us feel less pain or make us fall into a deep sleep. This works on animals too, so it should work on dragons as well,” Pryce said, which Fathom translated by working around the terms that had no direct translation.
«...I know your wound was real, Celeste would not lie about that, but I am having a hard time believing that such a dangerous method worked,» Ghorrah sighed, looking conflicted.
“Do you have any proof that this would work? Other than my wing, I mean,” Fathom asked Pryce.
“Would showing her the piece of your bone help convince her?” Pryce asked, raising an eyebrow.
“No, that’s just creepy,” Fathom grumbled, not bothering to translate that question. «Do you have any other questions?» he asked Ghorrah.
«...you could still fly without much difficulty, right? Her wound is far worse than yours was, can he really fix it?» Ghorrah asked severely.
«Pryce said that he makes no promises on whether or not humans can fix her wing, but he can promise that they will try, so long as dragons are not hostile to humans,» Fathom said, reciting what he and Pryce had agreed upon earlier.
«That is…reasonable,» Ghorrah said, nodding her head slowly. «So if I help you locate this human ‘ship’, then the humans will try and fix Jooral’s wing?»
“Yes,” Pryce said once Fathom had translated this.
«If I agree to this, then there will be three of us searching. What if I am not the one who finds this ‘ship’?» Ghorrah asked.
“Don’t worry, so long as she tries to help, we will help Jooral,” Pryce said. “Don’t forget to tell her that this depends on what happens between humans and dragons,” he reminded Fathom, “so it might be some time until we have learned enough about dragons to be able to heal her, but it should be less than ten years – if things go well.”
«...Very well, I would not let you try and fix her wing without knowing what you are doing in any case,» Ghorrah said. «Follow me; we will talk to Jooral,» Ghorrah said as she fanned her wings in preparation to fly.
“Wait, I have a question,” Pryce said. “Why did you come to us? You could have waited back home with Jooral.”
Ghorrah hesitated to reply when Fathom translated this question for her. «...do not tell her I said this, but we had a…disagreement, yesterday,» she said, her spines twitching almost imperceptibly. «She might be happy now, but she has a look in her eyes whenever I go flying, and I know she misses it, even if she has convinced herself otherwise. I wish to persuade her, but there are some questions I wanted to ask you before we talked with her.»
“I understand,” Pryce said, nodding. It was quite obvious she was referring to their earlier covert meeting this morning, especially given the pointed look she was currently giving him.
«Any more questions? Then follow me,» Ghorrah said when no one else voiced any concerns.
The short flight gave Pryce some time to realize how nervous he was. He was no ambassador; did he really have the right to make a promise on behalf of humanity? He wasn’t offering anything of great material value, but it felt dishonest to be making oaths that involved people who knew nothing of the matter.
Well, there was nothing to be done about; he just had to give it his all.
Each dragon landed some distance apart from one another, so as to not foul each other’s wings. Jooral glanced up as they landed, but she soon lowered her head in an uncharacteristic silence.
«I know you asked me not to fret,» Ghorrah whispered apologetically, «but I am still worried about you.»
«Yes, yes, I am fine.» Jooral tossed her head as she said this, which conversely made her dejected mood all the more obvious.
«...I am worried.»
«I know,» Jooral sighed, leaning against her partner’s side. «Thank you, my wings. Did you learn what you wanted?»
«Yes…» Ghorrah said uncertainly. «According to the human, first your bones would need to be…cut, and then be allowed to heal in the proper position.» Jooral flinched despite Ghorrah’s delicate tone, and she guardedly folded her broken limb more closely against her back. «He said that humans have things that would make you fall into a deep-sleep, so you would not feel anything,» Ghorrah quickly added reassuringly.
«They can do that?» Jooral asked, a bit of her curiosity shining through her hesitance. «I suppose that should not be surprising; it sounds like alcohol, but stronger.»
«Yes, that is true. He also said he does not know when humans will learn enough to be able to fix your wing, but it should not take more than ten years.»
«He told me that yesterday,» Jooral sighed. «At least he seems to be honest; if he were lying then he would have promised a shorter time.»
«Then…» Ghorrah said slowly. «Does that mean…?»
Jooral sighed, looking up at the skies. «This morning before you left, you asked me if I missed flying. I thought about it while you were gone, and I found that I had no answer. Eventually I realized that…I remember flying, but I am not sure if I remember how it felt, or if I only think I remember how it felt,» she admitted, her deep voice quavering. «Can I miss something I do not remember?»
«I do not know,» Ghorrah said, and wrapped Jooral in a tight embrace. “But it does not matter, because you will fly again,» she hissed, resolute. «And when that day comes, you can tell me the answer to that question.»
Jooral pulled her head back to look Ghorrah in the eyes, her jaws parted in a sad smile. «I asked you not to make any ridiculous promises, but you never listen,» she sighed, though her eyes were devoid of any anger.
«Of course not,» Ghorrah snorted gently. «Why would I, when I make them for you?»
“I don’t mean to interrupt,” Pryce said into the period of awkward silence. “But can we make our promise now?”
«Yes, we are in agreement,» Ghorrah said, and padded over to Pryce.
“I thought I would be making the promise to Jooral,” Pryce said, eyebrow raised.
“No, Ghorrah is the one helping you, so you are making the promise to her that you will try and heal Jooral,” Fathom explained.
“I guess that makes sense,” Pryce said. “And just so we’re clear, you know we might need to spend a few days looking for the ship, right?” He asked Ghorrah.
«Yes, of course I know that. Jooral is more than capable of living by herself for a few days,” Ghorrah snorted. «On the ground, she is a better hunter than me.»
“Alright, that’s good to know,” Pryce said, taking a deep breath before reciting the promise he had prepared in his mind. “If you help us locate the rescue crew, then I promise I will learn how to fix a broken wing, and then do my best to heal her.” It was a bit of a mouthful, but he felt it was best to cover his bases.
Ghoorah listened to the translation and spent some time thinking over the translation. «Are you certain you have repeated his words correctly?» She asked Fathom.
Fathom huffed in irritation. «Of course I have.»
«Then that is acceptable,» Ghorrah said with a nod that abruptly stopped.
«...What is it?» Fathom asked as she tilted her head in bemusement.
«I just realized that he is…a little small to make a promise with,» Ghorrah said, glancing at Pryce’s tiny human hands.
“Is something wrong?” Pryce asked Fathom.
“We just realized it will be difficult for her to make a promise with you,” Fathom said, flicking his spines in mild consternation. “Normally, for a promise like this, the one who is first to offer something holds their left arm forwards with the palm facing up,” he explained. “The other grabs that hand with the same arm, palm facing down.”
Pryce saw the difficulty in executing this act, but deciding to try anyway he lifted his left arm palm up, as if he were offering something. Ghoorah seemed doubtful, but she carefully reciprocated the gesture so as to not rake his skin.
She awkwardly held it there for a few moments, then lifted it away.
“Is…is it done?” Pryce asked uncertainly.
«Is it done?» Fathom asked Ghoorah, who nodded dubiously. “Yes,” he relayed back to Pryce.
“...I assume it works better when two dragons do it,” Pryce said, feeling a bit disappointed with this anticlimax.
“Yes, your hand is too small,” Fathom said, then asked Celeste to demonstrate with him. They clasped hands from opposite arms, three fingers on top with the ‘pinky’ and thumb fingers interlocking. “It is supposed to represent a…connection, or giving something away,” he explained.
Pryce held his chin as he studied the gesture. “It’s interesting that dragons do something similar to humans.”
“You grab hands like this?” Fathom asked, surprised.
“You do it when you meet someone for the first time, but you also do it when you agree to trade something,” Pryce explained, then had to spend a minute awkwardly directing Fathom and Celeste to do a handshake, which they weren’t able to do very well due to the structure of their hands.
“That’s kind of what it looks like,” Pryce said, shrugging in defeat.
“I assume it works better when two humans do it,” Fathom echoed.
“Why…humans do this?” Celeste asked in English. “This is not…like…the action of giving something, is it?” Celeste asked, swapping languages when her vocabulary proved insufficient.
“I…don’t know, actually,” Pryce frowned. “It’s a very old gesture, but I’m not sure why people started doing it…we use hands for everything, so it makes sense to grab each other’s hands as a gesture. If someone falls down we also help them up by grabbing their hand, so maybe that’s it,” he mused.
“Do humans fall down often?” Fathom asked dubiously.
“Sometimes; it’s easy to fall over when you only have two legs.”
«...are you sure we can trust him?» Ghorrah sighed when this had been translated for her, making Fathom bristle in secondhand offense.
«Well, you did not offer anything of great value, so we do not have much to lose,» Jooral shrugged. «I am surprised he agreed to do so much for so little.»
«He would have done it even if you did not agree to help him,» Fathom said a little smugly.
«That is ridiculous, no one would do so much for nothing in return…would he?» Jooral asked, more confused than disbelieving.
Ghorrah was silent for a moment, looking as if she were recalling something. «...Why would he do that?»
«He likes doing things like that,» Fathom shrugged. «That is just who he is.»
«Well, even if they are strange, the important part is that they are going to help us,» Celeste said optimistically as she turned to Jooral. «If you don’t remember what it is like to fly, then it will be like doing it for the first time again, right?»
«...Yes, I suppose that is a good way of thinking about it,» Jooral chuckled, tilting her head in a draconic smile. «I think I am starting to believe this is possible…it is a strange feeling.»
«I know what you mean,» Ghorrah rumbled. «Something like this is normally impossible. It is strange to talk about it as if it were, even if he has proven that he can do it.»
«This is not customary, but I am grateful to you, Pryce,» Jooral said, bowing her head. «Even in my dreams I no longer fly, so I am glad to have this hope, even if you do not succeed.»
“You’re welcome, and I will do my best,” Pryce said. “That reminds me, I think now is a good time for me to ask a favor from the two of you.”
«Both of us? There is nothing much I can do for you that Huroumh and Ahnoumh cannot, unless you would like me to make something?» Jooral asked, tilting her head while Ghorrah looked a little surprised.
“It is nothing like that,” Pryce said, shaking his head. “I cannot properly say Draconic words, so I am unable to say your names. Could you let me give you both a name that I can say?”
The elder dragons shared a glance and shifted uncomfortably.
«Names are…important,» Jooral said civilly.
«Now that I think about it, I have never heard you use any of our names,» Ghorrah noted with a tilt of her head.
“…I have,” Pryce admitted, “but the closest sound I can make just doesn’t sound like any of your names.”
«Could you try again?» Jooral entreated.
Pryce sighed. “Jooral. Ghorrah,” he said, pointing at each dragon as he said their names.
The two older dragons shared a glance, their spines flattened.
«What name would you give us?» Jooral asked.
Pryce muttered under his breath as Fathom stifled a suspiciously amused noise. “I was going to name Jooral ‘Fortitude’ and Ghoorah ‘Devotion’. Fortitude is what someone has when they are hurt but do not give up. Devotion is what someone has when they do not give up on someone or something.”
Jooral tilted her head in surprise. «You are giving us names that already have meanings?»
“Yes, that is what humans do,” Pryce explained.
«Such strange creatures,» Ghoorah muttered. «At least this ‘For-ti-tude’ describes Jooral well,» she admitted, sounding out the unfamiliar word.
«Yes, and Dev-o-tion is an appropriate name for you,» Jooral said. «This is a better option than the alternative.»
«Then do you accept these names?» Fathom asked.
«It is an easy choice,» Ghorrah – now Devotion – shrugged and glanced at Fortitude, who nodded. «He may use these words instead of our names.»
“Excellent,” Pryce said, nodding in relief. “I’m so glad to be using words I can actually say again.”
«Did he give you two names?» Devotion asked interestedly.
«Yes, my human-name is ‘Fathom’, it means ‘understanding’.»
«And mine is ‘Celeste’, it means ‘sky’.»
«‘Sky’ is a thing, and not a personality trait like our names, is there a reason for this?» Fortitude asked.
Pryce explained a bit of how he and Fathom planned to meet Celeste, and that meant giving her an English name. “Fathom, Fortitude, and Devotion, are human words, but they are not human names. Celeste is a rare human name, so I thought it would be alright to give her that name.”
“I did not think of this before, but when you say ‘human names’, do you mean there are different humans who have the same name? Fathom asked curiously.
“It is not rare for one human to have the same first or last name as another, but it is very rare for two people to have the same first and last names.”
“I guess this makes sense if there are 50 million humans, but dragon names are all different; it feels wrong to have two people with the same name,” Fathom snorted.
“A lot of human names don’t sound like they fit a dragon, I’m trying to give them good names that describe them well.”
Fathom blinked, then nodded in approval at this justification before translating it for the others.
“And speaking of meanings, I think it’s time to teach you all how to talk to humans,” Pryce smiled.
«It will be useful to be able to speak and listen to humans without the help of another,» Devotion admitted with a lackadaisical air.
“Alright, great teacher,” Pryce grinned as he gestured to Fathom, “time to teach.”
“We’re supposed to teach together!” Fathom hissed indignantly as Pryce sat cross-legged on the ground.
“You already know all the words they need to know, and it’s not like I can do anything to help; I can’t say any Draconic words, remember?” Pryce asked, completely undaunted by the daggers Fathom glared at him as he sat down on a nearby rock.
He snickered as Fathom muttered something unintelligible. It was probably profane, judging by the gradient of amused reactions the three females expressed.
Later, Fathom and Celeste landed by a river and immediately thrust their muzzles into the cold mountain water.
“I’m surprised, you taught them well,” Pryce complimented, which Fathom acknowledged by the twitch of his spines. Fortitude and Devotion had quickly caught up to Celeste; for the first few minutes she only listened while Fathom went over the basics of human language, but then she started teaching what she knew, which lightened the burden on her father, though she did require the occasional correction.
The two older dragons had surprised Pryce with the speed with which they learned, though they were not quite as fast as Fathom and Celeste, their progress was still prodigious by human standards.
“Not fair, you didn’t help,” he pouted as he pulled his head up. “Today might have been the day that I spoke the most words in my life.”
“Me too,” Celeste said, though she had not spoken quite as much as her father.
“To be fair, I did help whenever I could.”
“That wasn’t much,” Fathom snorted, tossing his head. “Let’s fly back to the cave, I still need to beat Celeste’s hunting time,” he said, a competitive edge to his voice.
“You can do this tomorrow…when you are less…tired,” Celeste offered, almost genuinely.
Fathom roundly ignored this jab, and only gave Pryce a few seconds of warning before he leapt into the skies. A minute later they landed, and Pryce retrieved the chronometer as per Fathom’s request.
“It is 5:45 PM right…now,” Pryce said.
“I will be back soon,” Fathom called out before taking off.
Celeste watched her father fly off for a few seconds, then turned to eye the shiny device in Pryce’s hands.
“What is that?”
“It has been 9 minutes and 10 seconds, you took 10 minutes 21 seconds to hunt those two animals, so he has one minute left to beat your time…now,” Pryce said, having mostly finished explaining the function of the chronometer, to Celeste.
“That is amazing, like it is alive,” Celeste said, reminding Pryce of Fathom’s own reaction. “I do not see him,” she said, tearing her eyes off of the device to peer around on her back legs, her head turning about like a periscope used in armored vehicles. «Wait…there he is,» she said a few seconds later, pointing at a vaguely dragon-shaped object in the sky.
“Thirty seconds,” Pryce said. “Twenty seconds…ten seconds…” he counted down as Fathom approached, he was close now, but it didn’t look like he would make it. “Nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one, and zero,” he called out over Fathom’s wing flaps as they steadily increased in volume. “Looks like you win,” he said to Celeste, who curled her tail around herself smugly as her father landed roughly onto the ground, dropping three of the same creatures as his daughter had caught – though each individual specimen was noticeably smaller.
“I counted 52 beats, how many minutes and seconds has it been?” Fathom asked urgently once he spat out the rodent-like creature in his jaws.
“You took 10 minutes 33 seconds, 12 seconds more than Celeste,” Pryce said, making Fathom droop as Celeste preened.
“...I caught one more,” he protested weakly.
«The rule was ‘the one who finishes hunting enough food for the both of us in less time wins’, not who could catch more,» Celeste nearly sang as she tore into her rodent. «It seems I win, father.»
«Nothing was around for me to hunt,» Fathom huffed, «but…you did beat me,» he admitted somewhat ungraciously, though that did not seem to matter at all to Celeste. If anything, she seemed to glow with joy.
“Why did you catch three when two would have been enough?” Pryce asked.
“Two would not have been enough, they are too small,” Fathom mumbled disgruntledly as he nibbled on his own food. Pryce raised an eyebrow at this, but Fathom discreetly shook his head while Celeste started on her half of the catch.
“Did you hunt three of those animals to let Celeste win?” Pryce asked later, when the dragon in question had left to get a drink of water.
“No,” Fathom said vehemently, surprising Pryce. “I would never do that to her; it is very insulting to let someone else win,” he said, chastising.
“Sorry,” Pryce said, raising his hands placatingly. “Humans don’t like other people letting them win either, but I thought that was what you were shaking your head about.”
“I wasn’t sure what you wanted to ask, but I didn’t want you to make her think I might have let her win. We both followed the rules we agreed on, and she won. She did have good wind, but that is part of winning.”
“Right, okay, I won’t tell her anything about that,” Pryce said a little shamefacedly. “What did you mean by good wind?” He asked, after a moment. “It wasn’t very windy yesterday, and it’s not very windy today either.”
“Wind is like luck. We call things someone cannot control ‘wind’,” Fathom explained a little shortly.
“...understood."
Awkward silence filled the air.
“I am not mad,” Fathom finally sighed, “I can see why you would think I did that, but there is no reason to let someone win; a win is only a win if it is earned,” he said in a lecturing tone that made Pryce wonder if that was something taught by his parents. Fathom paused for a moment, then added in a more humorous tone, “The only time you should let someone win is if they are a hatchling or a young dragonet.”
“I guess dragons play with their children too, huh?” Pryce chuckled, relieved to see he had not given too much offense. “...you should tell her,” he said, though it came out more abruptly than he had intended.
“Tell her what?” Fathom asked, bemused by the non sequitur.
“That you’re proud of her,” Pryce clarified.
“But she already knows that,” Fathom said, tilting his head in confusion.
“Does she? You didn’t say it, did you?” Pryce asked, raising an eyebrow. He was fairly certain that he grasped most of their conversation, and he hadn’t heard Fathom say anything like that.
“She knows. A parent admitting that their child has beaten them is a parent saying they are proud,” Fathom explained, dismissing Pryce’s concerns. “You saw how happy she was, didn’t you?”
“That’s true, but…sometimes it’s important to say something, even if the person you’re talking to already knows it.”
Fathom scoffed at this. “That doesn’t make any sense, why would you say something that the other person knows?”
“It would make her happy, wouldn’t it?”
“Yes, but...that feels like it would be awkward. I think that is more of a human thing,” Fathom said doubtfully just as Celeste entered his line of sight, having walked back to the cave on foot.
«What are you talking about?» She asked once she had closed the distance.
“Nothing important,” Fathom said indifferently as he pointedly glanced at Pryce.
Later, Celeste laid beneath Fathom’s wing just as she had the night before, her breaths steadily slowing as she slipped into unconsciousness. Fathom had been mulling over Pryce’s advice, and before she fully fell asleep, he decided to trust in him one more time.
«You have grown up well, I am…very proud of you,» Fathom whispered abruptly. Celeste’s head was curled under her wing, so he could not even tell if she had heard his awkward affirmation.
Seconds passed, and Fathom was beginning to deeply regret this mortifying decision when Celeste shifted and curled herself more tightly against his side.
«...Thank you,» was all she mumbled, the two words spoken stiffly and awkwardly, but that did not matter at all. Fathom quietly breathed a sigh of relief, feeling inexplicably lighter as he wrapped his wing more tightly around his daughter until they both drifted off to sleep.
[JOURNAL ENTRY]
Day 84,
Good news: Jooral and Ghorrah have accepted the English names Fortitude and Devotion.
Better news: Devotion has agreed to assist us in return for repairing Fortitude’s wing sometime in the future.
Fathom spent the rest of the day teaching the three of them English, and they’re making great progress. All three should be sufficiently fluent by the time the rescue ship arrives.
As for their competition, Fathom ended up losing to Celeste by 12 seconds. Despite his discontent, Fathom was still proud of Celeste for beating him. I asked if he had let her win, but he took great offense to that; apparently it is very insulting for a dragon to go easy on another. I better keep that in mind.
We haven’t brought it up to the others yet, but Fathom and I are going to go back to his territory tomorrow to check up on things. I’ll synthesize more penicillin while I’m there, so we should be back by the day after tomorrow.
Weird thought: I’ve been thinking of certain draconic behaviors as ‘human-like’, but their species could very well be older than humanity…it might be more accurate to say certain human behaviors are ‘dragon-like’.