Chapter 37: Punishment Alley

Nahana lead her outside to show her around town. But, as soon as they stepped into the burning midday sun, a hectic guard with a more frantic matter on his mind stopped them. After a few minutes of intense, and extremely hushed, conversation, Nahana left and Sylph stood outside with Farron instead. Nahana seemed to trust him, him and the six guards following with some distance. Sylph doubted Nahana knew of her plans to leave, so the guards had to be a precaution.

Farron sidled up closer as they walked, leaned in with his head until he almost head-butted the side of hers. “What are you doing?” She pulled back and his expression drooped. “Right, sorry, not your customs.”

“Butting heads is not a Sol custom I have ever heard of.”

He reached for a small crevice at the side of his head, right below his thin ears. “It is a polite and affectionate way to pick up each other’s scent. And since we will spend a lot of time together, I thought I might as well introduce myself more thoroughly.” His smile was as high as could be, and she realized, or hoped that she recognized, what he attempted; Flirting. The least important thing on her mind right now, and he, with his slightly plump body and cocky attitude, was not helping that fact. “I don’t know you at all. I don’t want to be touched and I don’t want to get to know your smell. That is weird.”

He turned away. “Point taken.” To her surprise, disappointment stuck to his voice like tar as he explained unnecessary information about the age of the town’s shops. She had expected some sort of cocky comeback or more weird suggestions about bathing, but apparently rejection was not something he had imagined.

The dragons they passed regarded Farron with respect, but not as much intense bowing as they showed for Nahana. There was also considerably less staring at her compared to the first time, almost like walking into a normal town. Although not a single human could be seen, which seemed odd but kinda intriguing. A town for dragons only, and yet the remnants of the earlier inhabitants remained, judging by the small doorways and house sizes.

“How do you like it here so far?” They stopped at a corner in the shade of a palm tree. Stating her actual feelings sounded like a horrible idea. He was close to Nahana. What he heard, Nahana would find out.

“Do you want the honest answer, or the one Nahana wants to hear?”

He laughed and flicked his chin upwards. “Don’t worry, I am not obliged to tell my mistress everything that you say or have an opinion about. But questioning her authority is not advisable. Even if you are her daughter.”

Sylph surveyed the area, only spotting a Sol lounging with a bowl on the opposite site of the street who paid them no attention. “Forcing me to wait in a corridor without saying why is not how I expected to be treated.”

“I heard what happened. And, don’t tell Nahana, so did most of the guards and servants. Been a while since the palace was that lively. If you told me that her daughter would return and one of her first actions would be to threaten to mess up her sub-surface baths, I’d think they were insane.” His chest twitched in a cutoff laugh. “Nahana sees you as quite the challenge to rein in.” He nodded towards a side street and Sylph followed.

“She likes to know where everybody is at any given moment. You have earned no trust yet, not with her or the city.” He had a point. They had no reason to trust her and she had none to trust them.

The weight of the rose-gold band pulled on her horn as if trying to persuade her to trust Nahana a little. “It is pretty hard to follow rules you are not told about.”

“It’s different when you grow up in this town. You don’t question her orders. She knows what is best. Look at all of this, see what we built.”

Sylph took a long glance at the marketplace they had entered. The stalls and cobbled plaza looked familiar, but no amount of neatly arranged palm trees and carved benches could take her gaze away from what she saw in the back. Six dragons stood lined up on a sort of pedestal each. They did not move and yet they looked alive.

“The city folk nicknamed it punishment alley,” Farron said as if what she saw was completely normal.

The bronze scales of a Metia caught the sun, and she recognized him as the guard from earlier. “I remember him,” she said and approached the last pedestal. The formerly bored expression was now frozen in surprise and pain. Even his tail seemed to have stopped midst a twitch a few feet off the ground. She also could not help but notice a very slim trickle of liquid down his leg that ended in a tiny puddle, around which there were several dried outlines of other puddles. Only the subtle hiss of air through his nose told her he was indeed alive. “Is it magic?” Her scales curled upwards the longer she watched the living statues. This was the punishment Nahana choose for disobedience.

“Poison, harvested from a large scorpion that lives in the desert. The paralysis is not fatal if done right. Just, very, very uncomfortable and leaves you sore for days. They keep all senses, but can not talk back, or act.” Farron’s cocky voice trembled as he seemed to recall some memories.

Even without his armor, the guard still looked quite imposing. She wished she knew his name. “I’m sorry. But you should know that I totally would’ve made a mess just to make a point and I think she would’ve punished you more for that, me too. So I think you did the right thing.”

Farron shot her a sideways glance. “You do not go against Nahana just to make a point. That will not end well.”

“Result of her rules, not me.” Sylph snorted. “Got any helpful tips for when I inevitably end up here?”

“Relax your body, try to sleep, and-” A metallic screech in the distance interrupted him and Sylph spun towards the source. “I believe that is the new contestant. Interesting how every Aer turns towards a sound without fail. Come,” Farron motioned.

“Contestant?” It sounded like a wild animal, an angry one at that. Her guess turned out to be right. Passing another corner, Sylph saw the cage first. It sat on a sturdy cart and trapped inside crouched a strange creature. The wyvern was slightly longer than herself and looked as though someone had flattened it with a pan. Its scales shone like smooth stone plates and the spiked tail smashed into the iron bars, but wiggled through and tried to strike any dragon close enough.

“A waterfiend,” Farron said and kept a far bit of distance. “Vicious creatures. Everything, down to its very blood, is poisonous. But, cured in a mixture of salt and vinegar, you can turn its flesh edible.” His eyes blinked with glee and his tongue flicked around his snout as the Sol instincts took over. “It’s an interesting composition of flavors. The meat is quite stringy on its own but-” He caught himself mid-sentence. “Which does probably not interest you.”

Farron took another step away from the cage and Sylph followed as she realized that everyone around did. No one dared to get close to the wyvern as it fixated them all with its yellow eyes that seemed to wish death on everybody and everything. “And the second thing that came to mind after deadly and poisonous is how to prepare it for dinner?”

“Consuming its blood will give you a dangerous fever. Eating its flesh will give you painful stomach cramps. Its bite and tail-spikes carry a venom that acts extremely diuretic and stops your dragonheart from getting the water it needs. So even if you escape with a scratch, it will follow you through the desert until you fall unconscious.” Farron laughed, his posture relaxed and let a bit of what she assumed to be the real him shine through. “But, you know how we say, you have to try eating everything.”

Sylph snorted a laugh. “I expected nothing less.”

His attitude and voice changed back. He and Nahana seemed to fake being who they were, and it was rather exhausting to guess which face was the real them. Was Farron a cocky Sol that saw himself as Nahana’s next in line? Or was he an arrogant fool that only tried to be the former? “They don’t come into our town,” he said, “so no worries. They captured this one for the arena.”

Sylph recalled the claw marks on the walls. She assumed them to be from dragons. “You have wyverns fighting?”

“Yes. Speaking of which, tonight we have a match. You’ll be the guest of honor,” Farron hummed happily and turned to leave the caged waterfiend to its inevitable demise later on.

Sylph could not see the appeal of watching creatures fight. They had no tactics or plans; they were just wyvern. With a throb, the scabby scar on her shoulder made itself known. Perhaps she had to admit that wyvern could be terrifyingly intelligent to the unassuming dragon.

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Nahana already awaited them at the palace. Farron slowed his walk and whispered. “Keeping the peace is a delicate act of balance,” he said. “Realize that your mother is trying to keep us all alive. Her authority and rules keep us all here. So please, consider what you do or end on a pedestal. I’ll be nice and bring you a wet cloth for the intense headache afterwards.”

Sylph nodded. She did not intend to stay long enough for that to be a problem.

Nahana flared her wings, letting the wind ripple through the fine membrane as if to announce to the entire street that she had stepped outside. “I hope you got a feel for our quaint little town.” She smiled downwards. “It is time to introduce you to somebody. A present that will make your journey worthwhile.”

“This is not another being bathed situation, is it?” She could imagine the horrors. It now included Farron lying at the edge of the pool, waving seductively with a skewer of waterfiend meat.

“No,” Nahana said and pulled Sylph out of her imaginations, “I offer something far greater. Revenge.”