Fanfiction link:
https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13019231/4/The-Pursuit-of-Endless-DayChapter 4: Trial by fire
“If you want to see the sunshine, you have to weather the storm.”
~ Frank Lane
Petrie sighed as he finished his confession. Now the truth was out to the pious flyers that, up until now, had been his companions. Now they knew exactly what he was.
The silence dragged on. The young flyer could only wait for the inevitable talon to drop.
“What kind of flyer attacks during a talk with the Bright Circle?”
Petrie’s body jerked a bit at the recrimination before he realized a few moments later that it was not directed at him. He found himself staring at Talos who, like his brothers, now wore expressions of anger that were not directed at the killer in front of them.
“Yeah! Surely no one can blame you for ending the fight,” Galen suggested
Petrie could only blink at the response from the audience around him. As he briefly glanced at the others he only found the same expressions: pity, sadness, but no recrimination.
“But… me kill someone,” Petrie spoke in a voice that was barely a whisper, “You not upset that you fly with killer on this important flight?”
There was silence for several moments as Knacker appeared ready to fly over to speak to Petrie, but that was when another familiar body landed beside his. Never one to stand on ceremony, Verpos placed a wing against Petrie’s chest.
“This flight was meant to pass judgment on you, was it not?”
Petrie remained silent and merely nodded, obviously not understanding what Verpos was getting at.
“Then there are two outcomes, Petrie. One, you die in this awful spectacle in which case the Bright Circle will have made you pay its price - who are we to add to its judgment? Or, two, you do not die in which case the Bright Circle finds you not guilty.”
Petrie blinked at the explanation as the other began to nod and murmur with agreement.
“And, lad, killer or not you sound like better company than this Zagar fellow,” Knacker added with the slightest bit of humor to his eyes, “And trust me, I have lived long enough to see bad company.”
Petrie could only shake his head at the reactions. Perhaps there was much about the Old Ways and the flyers who followed them that he still did not understand.
“Thank you,” Petrie finally said with a slight bow.
It was exactly at that moment that the first significant hints of light began to appear across the horizon.
Ulan snorted. “No rest for the weary, I suppose. Everyone ready for three days and nights of this shi… stuff?”
Verpos sighed and shook his head before looking at the first hints of the Bright Circle in an apologetic manner. “Ready or not, my friend is right. Let’s be on our best behavior for the Bright Circle. It will be watching us closely now.”
Knacker nodded. “Fly strong, live proud, die well.”
There was silence then as the old flyer spoke the commonly heard mantra. Everyone knew what he meant. This time when everyone raised their wings to cover their eyes in the traditional ritual, Knacker did not protest. Petrie knew what that meant.
He do it today.The moment ended as soon as it had begun as the flyers removed their wings from their faces and stared at the coming light. It was an invitation for some journeys to continue and for at least one to come to an end.
As Petrie took off once more, possibly for the final time, he was not short on company as the flock ascended into the skies. But in his mind he couldn’t help but replay the events that had led him to this place one last time.
Little did he know that he was not alone.
Petrie’s wings twitched as if in protest as tendrils of wind reached them that did not make sense. Feedback from bodies that were simultaneously welcome but all together too close. It almost felt like he was back in formation again with his brothers.
He moved his gaze to his left.
The eyes of Knacker, Talos, Galen, and Valen all followed him ever as they kept their beaks forward-oriented in order to guide their bodies through the treacherous air.
He then gazed to his right.
Ulan and Verpos both flew in close formation. A formation so close that one could hear the others against the wind.
Petrie couldn’t help but laugh at the display even though part of him wanted to cry at the same time. They were awaiting the end of his song just in case. For Knacker to tell it to the ancestors, and for the others to tell the living… just in case Petrie also joined the ancestors soon enough.
He forced his eyes into conveying gratitude and mirth as he spoke in a loud but clear voice.
“Thank you. Petrie did not know what to do, so me go to only place me think of…”
---
One year ago:If anyone had asked Petrie where he was going he would have not been able to give them an intelligible answer. More so than at any other time in his short life his experiences and sensations felt as if they were happening to another person. The wind against his wings, the thermals spotted by his eyes, the bluffs ahead of him, they were all being seen by someone else… all being controlled by someone else. Everything in his mind told him that what just happened couldn’t possibly be real.
He couldn’t have done that… could he?
But in such times thoughts are often trampled under the stampede of mindlessness that is instinct. As a result the entire flight was like a blur. An incomprehensible cascade of images and sounds that faded into the background. It was only when he landed with a loud thud that consciousness truly returned like a slap to the face.
“Ahhh!!!”
“Whoa!”
Petrie did not particularly appreciate the loud voices or the screams as his overwhelmed senses tried to make sense of the situation around him. It took him a few moments to register that Brasko was shaking him.
“Petrie, what happened?”
“Stop, Brasko! You might hurt him worse!”
The shaking suddenly stopped without any retort from his brother as Brasko allowed Valaria to examine her brother. Now there were two faces staring back at Petrie with all of the intensity of the Bright Circle’s harsh glare.
Petrie forced his beak open. His voice, shaky but certain, then felt as if it spoke of its own accord. “Got in fight. It got pretty bad.”
“Trampling threehorns!” Grondo exclaimed.
Brasko, on the other hand, looked at Valaria for a moment as if conferring with her silently before turning back toward his brother. “With your friends or…”
Petrie merely shook his head. “Ol-older flyers.”
His voice felt like his own again, some part of his hazy mind noted.
Valaria looked over at the other siblings. They were all looking over at Petrie’s form with shocked expressions, but they all also carried more than a hint of uncertainty in their wings. No one knew what to do.
“Grondo, go get mother,” Valaria order quickly.
This seemed to break an unspoken order among the siblings as muttering and whispers resumed as soon as Grondo’s form retreated into the skies.
Brasko stepped forward grimly and looked at his sister, “I will get one of the Elders.”
Everyone went silent in an instant.
---
Elders…Instinct threatened to overtake Petrie again at that word, but some part of his wavering mind held firm against the tides of fear and confusion. It was as if that single word encapsulated the full extent of what was happening… and the possible consequences.
Two flyers fought. Either it would be resolved by the Elders or it would become two families fighting. And considering how the fight had ended…
Petrie hesitantly moved his wing towards his beak. Despite suspecting what the wetness was he was not prepared to have it confirmed. As a red wing tip greeted his eyes he tried to choke back his fear.
“It’s alright, Petrie, we will get you cleaned up!” Valo noted in a frightened voice. “Uh… I guess you can go to the drinking puddle and…”
Petrie paid his brother little heed as he examined his wing in silence.
Blood. His own blood.
It was a silent confirmation of what had transpired and of how bad the fight had become. And considering what he had done…
“No, you not clean Petrie up!” Petrie barked suddenly in a voice that made his siblings jump back.
Valo held his wings out in a placative manner. “It’s al-lright, Petrie. Whoever hurt you is not here, we just…”
Valaria nodded, offering her best attempt at a reassuring smile. “Your wings are good and it looks like you just got a busted beak, but that will heal.”
Her words had the opposite effect of what was intended, however, as Petrie closed his eyes. “Me hurt other flyer much worse-er.”
“Well, serves him right!” one of his brothers asserted before being agreed with by several affirmative nods.
Valaria, however, took on a grim expression. “How much worse?” She finally whispered.
Petrie merely looked down. That was all the indication that she needed.
She sucked in a deep breath. “Luca, get Aunt Frena and Aunt Wista here now.”
Luca looked back at her in confusion. “Sis?”
Valaria looked at her brother grimly. “We need to defend the nest.”
---
On the other side of the Valley, by the Snaggly Tree:The massive longneck peered over the medium-sized tree with relative ease while taking the occasional bite of its green foliage. To anyone who was watching from a distance she would appear to merely be enjoying an afternoon meal. But her decision to eat here had another purpose entirely.
And Volant was seeing right through it.
With a smirk on her face, Volant landed on a rather enticing looking branch before the massive sauropod could snatch its accumulated leaves.
The flyer snorted upon seeing Grandma Longneck roll her eyes in an expression that did not appear to match her dignified and aged face. “I thought it was my turn to watch our adventurous children,” Volant admitted.
Grandma Longneck nodded before grabbing some leaves on Volant’s branch, causing the branch to shake and the flyer to let out a surprised squawk.
The sauropod could only smirk at Volant's look of mock indignation as she landed on a nearby branch.
The longneck then swallowed her quarry of leaves for a moment before speaking. “Grandpa and I decided that two pairs of eyes were better than two. Our grandson asked us a question about Blue Petal Plants this morning.”
Volant sighed before shaking her head with amusement. She couldn’t help but look over in the distance at the rapidly growing preadolescent longneck. “Those only grow past the Mountain that Roar. Does he really plan on walking halfway to the Big Water?”
Grandma Longneck merely looked at Volant.
Volant rolled her eyes. “Forgot who I was talking about for a moment. Well, maybe they will think better of it. They haven’t gone on one of their journeys in the last two seasons.”
Grandma peered over the tree again as she watched the threehorn kick a rock in frustration as Chomper and Ruby walked around awkwardly. The fact that her son was saying something and that the threehorn’s grunted answers were somewhat audible in the wind confirmed that some kind of argument might be developing. A quick headcount confirmed that everyone was there… Ruby talking to Chomper as Spike and Ducky looked on… Littlefoot trying to calm down Cera… and…
“I think they are waiting on your son,” Grandma noted before she took another bite.
This made the flyer go silent for a few moments. Petrie was old enough in flyer terms to be free during much of the day, even under the looser standards of the New Ways, but there was something odd about him not showing up on time with his friends. Volant was not under any delusion that Petrie spent any more time with his siblings than he had to.
“That is odd…” Volant noted before taking a leaf for herself, “My son does keep to the Old Ways more than his brothers and sisters so he might be talking to the Bright Circle about something.”
The longneck looked at the flyer for a long moment. “Does that trouble you?”
Volant shook her head after a pause. “My son and I have talked about it. I will respect his future choices though I hope he does not go beyond his talks with the Bright Circle. If it gives him peace, then who am I to interfere?”
Grandma Longneck took another bite. “I suspect a similar talk will come in the future with our brave grandson.”
Volant couldn’t help but smirk. “You think he has a bit of a herd leader in him?”
This earned her a snort from the longneck. “He leads a little ‘herd’ with many kinds in it. Makes trouble when life doesn’t give him enough trouble to keep him occupied. And he has a lot of his father and our daughter in him.”
Volant thought about asking what that meant but held back, remembering that their daughter had long-since went to the Great Beyond. Instead she asked another question that wasn’t really a question. “A lot of will in him then.”
Grandma Longneck smiled with her eyes. “Bron’s reputation preceded him before he became a herd leader, while our daughter once got stranded on a tree branch. If that tells you anything.”
Volant couldn’t help but laugh at the mental image of a young longneck somehow getting up a tree and then being stranded up there of all things. “Did you ever tell him about that?
Grandma laughed. “By the stars, no! Grandpa and I did not want to give him any ideas!”
This made both parents laugh heartily as they made sure once more that their children were still in the clearing by the tree. Their continued presence confirmed that all was well. All except for one notable absence.
Volant sighed. “Well, I should probably go looking for my son before Cera threatens to ram him into a tree or something.”
Grandma looked at her with surprise. “You can hear what Cera is saying from all the way over here?”
Volant laughed. “No, I am just assuming.”
The flyer prepared to take off from her perch with some reluctance. She always enjoyed her chats with the elder longneck. But if she could save her son a headache then it was worth it.
That was when her branch lurched.
“Grandma Long-” Volant began to protest before she noticed that the longneck was not anywhere near her branch. Instead her perch had two new arrivals.
Her heart began to beat rapidly as soon as she identified the newcomers. What happened?
She spoke in a much higher pitch than normal as she tried to force down the sense of growing dread. “Frena? Wista? What’s wrong?
Both of her sisters looked physically ill, with Frena’s blue hide appearing to sag on the branch even as she clung to it. Wista’s brown form looked little better as she held her head up high, looking like a stubborn leaf that would not fall from the tree. In the end it was her that spoke.
“Brosko, your son, tried to find you but he came to us. We made sure that Elders Doran and Gravis were watching the nest before we came-”
Volant could barely control herself as she took a wing and practically grabbed her sister. “Spit it out, Wista! The children… are the children okay? What happened?”
Grandma Longneck could only look upon the scene with a sinking heart as it played out. Her head turned in the direction of the Rock Circle as if suspecting that a tough valley meeting was soon to be declared.
Wista swallowed. “The children are fine… only Petrie was hurt.”
Volant gripped her sister’s wing as if ready to fly off at any moment.
“He is okay. He will recover,” she continued, “He just got a bloody beak and some scrapes from the fight.”
“A fight?” Grandma and Volant exclaimed at the same time.
Wista nodded slowly. “Yes, a fight. Zagar messed with the wrong flyer.”
Volant’s wings shook as her eyes narrowed in rage. “The bully? I will make sure that bent-beak won’t fly for a season!”
Both sisters went silent and merely looked at one another with a knowing and cold expression. The sudden change in demeanor was not lost on Volant.
“What?” she asked finally.
Frena sighed. “Your son already made quite sure that Zagar will not fly.”
Grandma Longneck’s face contorted into open-mouthed silence while Volant’s shifted into confusion, as if not believing what was being insinuated.
Wista finally killed any doubt. “Zagar began the fight, and Petrie ended it.” She looked up with as much compassion as she could muster for her stunned sister. “It doesn’t look like Zagar will wake up.”
Volant took off without another word.
---
If anyone had asked Petrie what had happened since the Elders had arrived at the nest he would have been unable to give a coherent answer. All that he knew was that in one moment an Elder was standing watch at the edge of his family’s perch and the next moment he alone was being guided into a cave by a formation of four adult flyers. It was only when one of the elders landed and gestured for Petrie to follow that his numbed mind comprehended where they were.
A cave?There was no answer to his unspoken question. There was merely the other flyer gesturing for him to follow into the cavern’s unknown depths.
The somber journey continued then with Petrie following the flyer hesitantly while walking on his wings. He had no idea if he was to fly or not so he did not dare try. As such it took them several moments before the sudden influx of light in one path made him realize exactly where they were.
“The Cave of Many Voices?”
Petrie was horrified by the voice that left his beak. Against the reflective walls of the cavern his words echoed like the wispy winds from a distant storm. The elder flyer did not say anything immediately as Petrie’s hoarse voice echoed around them for several moments. It was only when it died down that he spoke into the darkness of the chasm around them.
“Yes,” the elder began in a soft whisper, “I suppose that is one word for this place. Some of the older flyers call it “The Place That Talks Back”. It is a place to listen to our own words and to reflect.”
Silence fell upon them as the elder looked down at the battered flyer. Petrie’s beak still contained dried blood which had congealed into a black stain upon his distraught features. All the while the flyer’s body shook with uncertainty.
The elder sighed. “This is a place to tell your side of the story. To listen to your own words and to hear if they sound true.”
Petrie swallowed as he looked up at the male. “What happen now?”
The elder’s voice did not reassure him as he refused to meet Petrie’s eyes. “That is up to you, young one.” he then placed a hand on his back and gently patted it, “Speak now.”
The young flyer’s mouth quivered as the expanse of the cavern appeared to stare back at him. Despite being bathed in light from the ceiling openings, it’s numerous shadows hinted at things unseen. At truths unspoken. In many ways an audience of no one was more terrifying than being questioned by the entire valley. Uncertain of what the elder meant exactly, Petrie turned to ask a question.
But no one was there. It was just him and the cavern.
Petrie swallowed as his heart raced with nervousness. He would have to relive the terrifying moments in his recollection if he were to obey the elder’s summons. Almost every part of his body protested at him with pain and aches as his mind raged with despair. But the light from the cracks on the top of the cavern prevented him from acting on his impulses.
The Bright Circle had seen what had transpired. It would know if he lied.
The little flyer swallowed as he struggled to build up his courage, and to again face the events of earlier that day.
“Me… talk to Bright Circle after playing with friends,” Petrie hoarse voice began as its ominous echo resonated across the expanse, “Me was worried about us getting too big for some things and me ask it for advice. But… but that when Zagar interrupt.”
Petrie sucked in a deep breath as he willed his voice to cooperate. Dry eyes or not he would do what the elder had ordered.
“He say mean things to Petrie and then… and then other flyers laugh…”
"I guess MeMe can't hear right either!"
Petrie swallowed as his vision began to narrow at the flyer. When his voice did escape his beak he was shocked by its clarity.
"Me hear just fine. You do not. Otherwise you would know that Petrie praying."“Me called MeMe and told me can’t hear right… tell Zagar that me praying and that me hear just fine, and that me praying. And me not back down when he threaten me.”
Before he could understand what happened next he felt something collide into his chest as his back collided with the bluff wall.
"Stop it, Zagar!" a feminine voice protested.
"That's enough!" said another.Petrie was practically laying on the ground now as if trying to fight off the unseen attacker. “And then he knock me to rock wall… and then he hit beak…”
Petrie tried to catch his breath as he touched his beak as if to confirm that it was still there. His beak then clicked nervously.
"By the ancestors, Zagar, stop!"
Petrie did not notice Culus grabbing his friend's wing. He also did not notice the sudden hesitation in Zagar as an opening for flight presented itself. No, as Petrie swayed and his talon's tried to regain a firm hold on the ground, it was something firm and hard that reached his consciousness.
A small rock. One of the rocks he had used to hold his offering.“Me… me not know what to do! Me not know if he done or attack Petrie again! Me too weak to stop Zagar with wing or beak! But then me remember pinecone game and how Petrie throw pinecone… and me throw rock.”
Petrie blinked, still staggering over the pile of leaves and small stones. That was when he finally saw the full extent of his handiwork.
It was something out of a nightmare.
Zagar's body still heaved with unsteady breaths as it lay where Petrie's rock had felled him, one of his wings covering much of his body and beak. His eyes appeared to stare at something in the distance as his body seized as if shivering in extreme cold. Behind one of them was a gash where the stone had done its work. And, beside the fallen youth, was the stone itself. The very stone that Petrie had kicked. A stone that was now spattered in blood.Petrie’s eyes went wide as the image appeared in front of him again. It was all that he could do to cover his eyes and shake his head to make the image go away. In the end his own echo appeared to condemn him.
“...and me throw rock.”Petrie could only shake his head. “Me wish it happen some other way.”
This time his voice did not echo. Instead the small flyer was left with silence as the cool light from above continued to bear down in the desolate chamber. Against the oppressive silence and his own conscience Petrie finally allowed himself to curl up and weep.
Petrie had no idea how much time passed then. Against his shut eyelids and tears it could have been moments or eternities as far as the flyer was concerned. It was only now in the silence that the true weight of his plight fell upon him. He had hurt another flyer grievously and now Petrie’s own fate was unknown. All that he did know was that in the oppressive blanket of reality that now surrounded him he had no further control over his fate. It was now in the talons of others.
Over an imperceptible span of time Petrie wiped his eyes and allowed himself to gradually calm down. There was a strange serenity in knowing that nothing more could be done. His fate would soon be decided by someone and there was nothing he could do about it.
When he finally did open his eyes and took in the muted hues of the cavern once more it took him several moments to process what he was seeing. Because underneath the canopy of rock and the backdrop of reflected light something new now took residence among the shadows.
Flyers… were they there the whole time?Eight elderly faces greeted him in the distance as they sat in repose among natural crevices in the rocky canopy around him. Their eyes were almost opaque in their emotions as their beaks stared down at him like accusatory fingers. Among them there was only one face that he recognized.
Swooper?The large flyer’s unseeing eyes appeared to stare into the young flyer’s soul as he nodded slightly to himself. It was as if he were listening to a melody that only he could hear. When he did speak it came out as a solemn whisper.
“There is no lying in this young one. Swooper would have heard it otherwise. He has spoken his truth.”
The other flyers slowly nodded at this as one of their number clicked his beak three times in slow succession. All the while he did not take his gaze off of Petrie.
Petrie was confused for a moment until a familiar face arrived at his side. It was the elder that had abandoned him here earlier.
“You may go, Caran. Join the guard out front. Petrie has only spoken truth to this council.”
Petrie watched with equal parts surprise and horror as the large adult sighed with relief and bowed to the elder. “It will be done, Elder.”
Petrie opened his mouth to ask a question, but just like that the flyer darted out of the cave. Again leaving Petrie in the cavern. He could only imagine what would have happened if he had not told the truth.
The young flyer turned around again, his head hunched down as if weighted with stones. Unlike last time he now knew that he was not alone. In the absence of any confirmation he could only guess what would have happened if he had lied.
It was only with the greatest reluctance that he opened his beak to speak. A quick wave of the main elder’s wing quickly silenced him.
“The accused has spoken. Now the wronged will get to speak.”
Petrie could only swallow the lump in his throat. This did not sound good at all. But part of him was hopeful.
Wronged? Does that mean Zagar get up? Hesitantly he looked around for any sign of the young flyer. Though he had been wronged by him Petrie knew well enough that a recovered Zagar meant that his worst fears were unfounded.
It was exactly at this moment that one of the elders launched herself from the cavern wall and landed on the ground with a tremendous thud. As soon as Petrie met her eyes, his sudden burst of hope died as quickly as it had hatched.
The female was not one that Petrie recognized in particular. To him she was merely one of the elders of the valley flyers; a bluish female with an old and wizened face. But now as he stared into her piercing eyes he could identify this flyer. There was only one person she could possibly be. As a result her introduction was not a surprise.
“I am Escal, Elder of the Valley, sister of Allus and watcher of her clutch. When my daughter met her end I gave my vow to the Bright Circle that all of her children would be safe.”
Petrie’s eyes went wide as the female fixed him with a piercing glare.
“And today you have made me a vow breaker. My nephew is dead.”
---
“Where do you think he is? Petrie is not usually this late, oh, no, no, no.”
Cera could only groan at her friend’s question. As the threehorn aimed her growing horns at a nearby tree she scrapped the dirt with enough force to send a torrent of dust behind her. That was everyone’s cue to make a path for the soon to be charging threehorn.
Ruby, meanwhile, continued to study a pinecone suspiciously as if it held all of the answers to their unspoken question. This did not tell Chomper anything, however.
“Whatcha’ thinking about, Ruby?”
Whether it was due to a desire to get some distance from Cera’s upcoming tree massacre or mere curiosity, Littlefoot decided to trod over to the pink fastrunner as well. As did Spike as soon as Ducky encouraged him to depart from an enticing-looking bush.
The fastrunner sensed the growing audience and did not speak immediately. She instead turned over the pinecone in her hand a few times before nodding.
“I have been thinking about pinecones since our last game of pinecone. We are all big enough to be safe in the game…”
A deafening slam and the sound of cracking bark interrupted her words as Cera’s charge met its inevitable conclusion with her slamming into the tree.
“...as long as only Littlefoot gets to be hit by Cera.”
The longneck’s head may have now towered over most of his friends, but even they could sense the sauropod’s eyes rolling. “Lucky me.”
Ruby then held up the pinecone for emphasis. “But Petrie is in danger when he plays near the ground! So maybe next time each team can get a flyer and they can only pass.”
The sound of an audible thud could be heard as Cera suddenly aborted another attack on the tree. She then turned around. “So each team can have passers in the air?”
The fastrunner nodded. “And that way no one gets crushed!”
The threehorn thought about this a moment before fixing her eyes on the tree again. Then she began to retreat in preparation for another charge.
Littlefoot watched her warily before taking on a slight reassuring smile for the sake of his friends. “That might work, Ruby! Though… if Guido is the other flyer then we need to be in a place with more trees. He is a glider, not a flyer.”
Ducky nodded. “And we would have to use a smaller pinecone otherwise Guido would be knocked down!”
A final deafening slam emanated in the background as Cera met her target. This was followed by the sound of splintering wood and an audible creaking as snapping bark adding to the impromptu symphony of violence. A symphony that only ended when the tree crashed into the ground with a deafening crash.
None of the gang spoke for several moments as their ears adjusted to the sudden report from the fallen tree. In the end it was Chomper who spoke first as he gave a shrug to Cera’s handiwork. “Yep! We don’t want Guido knocked down like that tree!”
Despite her anger this actually earned a snort from Cera, “If Petrie doesn’t want the tree treatment then he had better hurry up!”
Littlefoot sighed as he lumbered over to Cera’s position by the fallen tree. “I’m sure Petrie must have a good reason to be late.”
Cera growled as she watched a flock of flyers fly to the west. “He had better…”
Both the sauropod and threehorn watched the parade of flyers for several moments as a dozen rapidly turned into several dozen, and then an uncountable multitude. That was not what caught their attention, however. What caught their attention was the usual screeching from the flyers. Or, rather, the complete lack of it this time.
The flocks were completely silent.
Both Cera and Littlefoot looked at one another with concerned expressions.
“Children.”
Every head turned towards the voice as Grandpa Longneck’s elderly face greeted them back. His long neck appeared hunched over more than usual and his eyes appeared more tired than he could remember. Neither of these signs was lost on Littlefoot.
“Grandfather? What happened?”
---
Petrie could only stare at the elder female in shock as the revelation worked its way through his consciousness. He had not only killed another flyer; he had killed a flyer under the protection of an elder. In light of the heavy burden of guilt that now hobbled him there now was the fear of what was coming.
When she slammed her beak shut the resulting sound cracked the cavern. It was as if she had struck everyone who was listening. She then raised her wing to gesture at Petrie’s diminutive form.
“Is this what we want for the valley? A place where a flyer who can’t take his blows can summarily kill? I watched my nephew and his siblings grow into young flyers and had hoped to see them fulfill the Old Ways as my daughter and our ancestors would have demanded. If anyone was to judge my nephew it would be the Bright Circle, not this-” her voice hissed in anger before waving her wing dismissively at Petrie, “-nephew of an exile.”
The shock quickly wore off as Petrie watched the display from the angry female. In its place was a growing sense of unease.
She want things to be even… she want Petrie to die?The aunt then covered her head with one wing as she looked away from Petrie. It was then that he could hear her heavy breathing. Each breath, labored and heavy, lasted for a few moments. It was only after a pause that she looked back at the young flyer.
For his part Petrie couldn’t meet her in the eyes either. His gaze merely looked her in the knees as he tried to avoid her piercing gaze.
“Look at me, child.”
Petrie took a deep breath before following the female’s command. Between the horror of what he had experienced and the slight to his lineage his expression came across more as a glare than a sympathetic expression.
Escal met his expression with equal fierceness as they stared at one another for several moments in a nonverbal standoff of wills.
“A friend of my grandson held his wing so that he would stop. Did you not see this?”
Petrie opened his beak but then quickly shut it as he thought back to those horrible moments of terror and pain. “Me did not.”
She raised an accusatory wing. “Those who were there saw it…”
“How was Petrie supposed to see anything? Me bleeding from beak and scared!” he practically shrieked at the female, “What me suppose to do?”
She snapped her beak in anger, “You could have shown some backbone and stood your ground instead of being a coward!”
Several elders quickly leapt from their perches.
“Coward?” Petrie spat out, now beyond caring. As far as he knew he was already dead. “Attacking smaller flyer is what coward do! Me not begin fight, but me end it!”
Petrie barely had time to react as Swooper’s massive form enveloped him, protecting him from the now enraged female. Now as blind as the flyer which held him down he could not see Escal being held down by several of her peers.
“That’s enough, Escal!”
“By the ancestors, it is! You know what honor demands!”
Swooper could only raise his head as he allowed Petrie to walk away from his massive form. “I might be old and blind, but even Swooper can see there is no honor in killing a young one.” He tracked his unseeing eyes to the last place he had heard her voice. “You’re better than this, Escal.”
Petrie staggered around for a moment before finding his footing. When he did he could see Escal pacing behind the seven other flyers. Her steps were as uncertain as his own.
“I used to be better than this. Now I am no better than any other vow-breaker.” she grabbed ahold of one of the elders’ wings, “I vowed to my dying daughter and to the Bright Circle! I vowed with all of my honor that I would do right for her clutch. I know… I know Zagar and some of the others were getting to the Time of Chaos, but even still I… I…”
Two of the elders were there when she collapsed to the ground, letting out an ear-piercing shriek of grief which was only magnified by the reflective walls of the cave. As Petrie held his ears at the auditory onslaught and watched the horrific scene play out in front of him, he could only imagine his own mother in a similar situation. Would this have been his mother if Petrie had met his end today? Might it be her once Petrie faced “justice”?
He looked at the others in turn now. At the male elder who was trying to comfort the female. He did not know his name, but he had been the main talker of the council. At Swooper, who continued to guard the region between the small flyer and his accuser. And at the others, who all wore similar expressions of regret. No one wanted to be here today. No one wanted to be faced with this terrible dilemma, but the events of the day had forced their wings.
Petrie sighed and bowed his head. He had no idea what to do here, but his mother had always told him that understanding would take you far.
What would Petrie do if friend killed? If was a valid question in many ways. He had friends that often got themselves into trouble. Would he be able to fight the impulse to want revenge if suddenly one of them met their end at the claws of some sharptooth? Or one of their own kind after a dispute? Would me feel different than her?
He closed his eyes.
No, probably not.He looked up at the cracks in the cavern which provided its only light. They were small enough to permit perhaps the passage of a single small flyer. If he truly wanted to escape this he could… but there would be one witness he could not escape even if the Bright Circle was not there.
Himself.
He looked over at the elders once more. They were still off of their perches and several were milling about as if wondering what to do. If it were any other circumstance it would almost be a hilarious sight. Instead it just made him feel even more uneasy.
Petrie lightly tapped one of the elders on the wing. “If, um, me prisoner then one of you need to watch sky lights.” He then gestured towards the cracks above.
The female elder merely looked at the boy with a sad expression before nodding. Within a few seconds she had returned to her original perch, guarding the cracks above.
"You're better than your uncle then. You don't fly away from your actions."
Petrie jerked back as he tried to spot who had said the comment. Much to his surprise he quickly realized that it had come from Escal.
Her face now fixed him with a curious stare. The anger was still there, but there was something else as well. Something that Petrie couldn't quite place.
"Me not fly away unless it what that... um... council want." Petrie hesitantly answered.
"Petrie," Swooper cautioned, but Petrie continued.
"Me not know, uh, anything about any of this. How any of this works. Me just want it to be over.”
The female appeared to consider this for several moments as she rubbed her eyes. Gone was the rage from Escal, or the cold glare from before, and in its place was something Petrie would have expected from an elder: an almost contemplative expression.
Swooper sighed as several of the elders looked at Escal expectantly.
“Exile would be a death sentence, child. You are not familiar with the Old Ways and lack strength for that burden.”
Petrie blinked. “Me thought you wanted me dead?”
Escal practically growled as she looked away. “There are deaths, and then there are deaths, child. There are good ways to die and then there are dishonorable ones. If your mother had taught you right…”
Petrie glared but held his beak.
“...you would be strong enough to have ended the fight with only wing and beak. And you would be strong enough for the test of justice for things such as this. Now what am I faced with? Adding to this injustice with one of my own?”
Petrie blinked in confusion which made the female sigh in exasperation.
“I am no fool, child. I know my nephew was brutish. Many children of his age are. It is the curse of males of our kind that only time sometime corrects.” She then sighed as she looked upon him with a mournful expression. “He will never get that chance now. And what can be done to fix that? Nothing. Nothing without adding to this tragedy.”
She shook her head sadly as her voice turned mournful. “But doing nothing is no solution here. The Old Ways are what keep our kind ordered. Without them our vows are but words, and our deeds are but claims. But what does that leave me with?” she shrugged desperately, “Having this council let you go and then resorting to keeping my vow as the Old Ways would demand? A vendetta that would leave our families broken until blood had been met with blood?”
Petrie was taken aback by this. “Why not use a New Way?”
“My destiny was made long ago when I made my vows, young one.” Escal said solemnly as she examined the small flyer from a distance, “I don’t have it in my heart to meet blood for blood. Perhaps a last flight is in order…”
Several elders raised their heads in alarm. “Now, Escal…”
Escal waved them off. “It is my life and my wings. A vow-breaker is as good as mud and to that mud I would return. It is the only way that the honor of my line would be upheld. It is the only way.”
Despite her arrogance and intransigence, Petrie could only look upon Escal with pity. She had come across a chasm that she could not fly through. A maze of her own creation. No matter what she did it would result in deaths. Even a sacrifice of herself would not be the end of it.
“If you die then your family still attack mine, and if me die then my family still attack yours,” Petrie deduced solemnly. “How would you… doing that... fix this? It sound like it only make it worse-er.”
“Aye,” A male elder agreed, “Sacrificing yourself would solve nothing, Escal. It would be just as pointless as killing Petrie. And I know you don’t want to do either.”
And there it was. Petrie was no fool and could suspect what the price would be for the death of Zagar, but up until now it had never been directly stated.
She nodded sadly as her head hunched down. “I wouldn’t do it and this council would not let me. But you know as well as I do that I cannot control the rest of the family. If the Bright Circle can’t decide then you know what tradition requires. You know how this will end.”
Petrie lowered his head in thought at the somber words of Escal. Now that the emotions of defensiveness and indignation had retreated what remained was a sense of helplessness. They were both trapped now, him and her. Both wanted to do what was best for their families, but there was no clear path forward. The only thing that was sure was that Petrie had killed and in any possible conclusion he would most likely pay with his own life.
He took a deep breath as he stared at the beams of light emanating from the cavern ceiling. In the darkness of the cave it looked more like an echo of something in the distant past. A reminder of how much simpler the world was merely moments ago. But also, in its own way, a reminder of what there was left to protect. His family, his friends, his pride... He may not be able to save himself, but he could save either family from terrible choices.
He narrowed his eyes with determination. “Is... there is some way to let Bright Circle decide? If there is… Petrie will do it.”
And with that Petrie’s fate was sealed.
---
“This should be a valley matter!”
Caran swallowed as he and his two companions stared down the angry threehorn. The fact that she could not fit through the opening was little consolation when she and the longneck could encourage Petrie’s other friends to do the same.
Reluctantly Caran stepped forward towards Cera's angry form. “Ms. Threehorn, we flyers would not interfere with a threehorn matter. We hope that you can do the same.”
“He is our friend! He is, he is!” A swimmer stepped forward that Caran’s mind quickly deduced was Petrie’s friend.
“And he was defending himself!” A booming voice protested from the adolescent longneck.
Caran took a deep breath as he examined the scene before him. The well-known gang of seven stood before him against the backdrop of hundreds of flyers perched on the bluffs all around them, causing even the vine-covered rocks to appear brown in the communal gathering of bodies. They were all silent and solemn as the situation demanded, with the only possible bellgerents having been secluded in the chamber or their nests. The Elders had seen to that.
“Children.”
The feminine voice surprised the flyer before he realized who it was from. Then he grew increasingly concerned.
His mother...Volant landed in front of the children with a soft thud as she raised a plactive wing towards them. All the while speaking with an almost terrified voice. “Children, this is something that cannot be interfered with.”
Perhaps it was the tone of her voice but the children quietly down immediately.
“But we have to do something!” Littlefoot protested, “Petrie is our friend. We should be able to support him.”
Volant looked uncertain as she looked to Caran. He merely nodded, answering the unspoken question.
He was not foolish enough to lie. The blind listener heard none.“The best thing that can be done is to see what they decide, children,” Volant spoke with some relief, “When he comes out… we will give him as much support as possible.”
The fastrunner looked surprised. “You are Petrie’s mom. Shouldn’t a mom be in there if they are.. deciding what to do?”
Volant took a deep breath before bowing her head. “It is our way, children. He must face this alone. And then we will do what we can.”
“Indeed we will!” the yellow threehorn affirmed with a booming voice before storming off in the direction that many of the other land-based valley residents had congregated. The longneck, though sighing, followed her lead. Soon so did the others.
Caran could only look at the somber scene with equal parts sadness and cynicism.
For many of them this is a spectacle, but for us flyers this is a tragedy.“Caran?”
He focused again on Volant before nodding.
“My son… did he say what happened?”
“It was self-defense, but you know as well as I that that does not change many things. I cannot say how the council will decide, but you know that they will want to limit reprisals.”
“Of course. What are two families when it comes to the flock?” she practically spat out the words, but she did not refute them. With the utmost reluctance she then flew over to the massive audience of her own kind, joining the multitude of bodies as just another observer She would have no choice but to watch the decision like everyone else.
It is our way, Caran thought to himself. It was both an affirmation and an accusation. It is our way because the alternative is so much worse.
Several long moments passed then. Against the expectant stares and the muffled conversation was an emotion that hang on the wind. It was a certain tension that even a talon would have difficulty cutting through. Both unseen and ever-present.
He did not hear the flapping of wings until Escal was behind him. “I will announce the decision of this council. To remove all hostility and to remove all doubt.”
Caran turned around slowly to face the elder female’s stone cold face. In neither her words nor her eyes was an indication of what had been decided. But the solemn words clearly indicated what had happened. There was only one way to resolve such disputes without bloodshed.
He swallowed in fear for what would soon befall the child, but dutifully stepped aside. Then, like everyone else in attendance, he merely looked upon the female in trepidation.
“Will my kin rise?” her voice commanded with a booming firmness that sounded impossible from someone so frail.
Several dozen flyers disrupted the orderly brown haze on the bluffs by raising their wings in unison.
“The Old Ways will be fulfilled here! There will be no vendetta!”
The muttering among the flyers reached a fever pitch as her kin slowly sat back down upon their perches, some with relief and others with disappointment. Against the backdrop Caran could see Volant being attended to by a few others as she finally allowed herself to mourn. She knew what the Old Ways meant in this context.
Caran closed his eyes.
Good luck, kid.“Petrie has decided to perform the Pursuit of Endless Day. The Bright Circle will decide his fate and no one else.” she then gestured at the Bright Circle’s luminous form in the sky with a shaky wing, “May it remove all hostility and remove all doubt!”
The flyers then said those words in unison, creating a deafening chorus that appeared to emanate from the ground itself.
The trial was over.
---
Grandpa Longneck could only look upon the proceedings with a mixture of disbelief and disgust as Petrie’s small form was led away by three elders towards his nest. As if in a mockery of any consideration for his distraught mother, she was forced to follow them from a distance.
“This is insanity.”
The longneck looked at the threehorn with a tired expression. “My friend, I have to agree. This will only end in tears.”
This agreement did little to appease Topps as he scrapped the ground in annoyance. “Were Petrie a threehorn the matter would be settled. If someone starts a fight then they have no right to complain about how it ends!”
Grandpa Longneck could only sigh. “It… is a little more complicated with longnecks. But, yes, our herds generally follow that rule.”
“So what can we do?” Grandma Longneck asked softly, “Because if we can’t do something then you know what our children will do.”
There was no disputing this unquestionable truth as the adults looked at their children in the distance. Where before there were six friends impatiently waiting on the flyer, now there were six dinosaurs on the warpath. Who were already talking in hushed whispers as they eyed the general direction of Petrie’s nest.
“And if they do something it will very likely cause the death of more flyers,” Topps deduced, “Urgh! And I thought longnecks were stubborn!”
It took Topps a few moments to realize that the sauropods were staring at him.
“So what are our options?” Topps quickly changed the subject, “If Petrie leaves the valley without this stupid test then we will have flyer fights for seasons to come, but if he goes as he is, well… I mean look at him.”
“He wouldn’t stand a chance,” Grandma Longneck admitted.
“Exactly,” Topps agreed, “The boy needs to thicken up and start training for whenever this thing is. It looks like he could be blown over by a light breeze.”
This made everyone pause for several moments as the flyers continued to fly from their perches as the trial proceedings broke up. The flyers, just like the moments until the test, were slowly flying away from them.
“Volant and I talked about the test back when Petrie was excited about it several seasons ago.”
This made both Grandpa and Topps turn towards Grandma Longneck with surprise.
“He talked about this before?” Grandpa asked.
She nodded. “It is part of their Old Ways, it seems. Like our Big Longneck Test. And Volant told me that there was only one person in her family that passed the test in the last generation.”
Topps nodded. “Now that is an idea! Someone can train the little pile of bones into something!”
Grandma nodded. “Yes, but, he is not in the val-”
Topps stomped. “Well then surely a flyer can go fetch whoever this is. Look, unless we want to watch our children every moment of every day while they wait on their friend to die in this stupid flyer test, we need to help,” he looked at the longnecks assertively, “Now who is this supposedly amazing beak-brain who survived this before?”
Grandma Longneck merely looked at Grandpa Longneck and sighed. It was at that point that he knew that an evening of arguing lay ahead of them.
“Pterano.”
---
The present:
"Me spare you all the training talk. You already be through that on your own. But that Petrie's story."
There were no words for several moments as Petrie's ears were overwhelmed by the sound of rampaging wind from their headlong rush to their final destination. In the silence the young flyer could feel his own anxieties and uncertainties grow as a small rock grew in the distance. A rock that soon took on the appearance of a giant spire of stone rising in the distance.
"Thank you for the story, Petrie!" Talos yelled over the roaring wind. "But I guess we need to conserve energy now?"
"Aye!" came the shout from Ulan's beak as he and several of the others spread out into a wide triangular formation so as to make collisions less likely.
Petrie bobbed his head as if nodding and then quickly elevated himself so as to slow down his forward velocity. Then, with a carefully maneuvered swerve, he took his place behind Knacker and his three nephews.
The massive rock in the distance continued to grow as the flyers continued on in silence. Its towering heights extended into the clouds like a gigantic talon poking the sky. All around it stood flat desolation. All the while the blazing hot glare of the Bright Circle beat down on the surroundings and on the struggling flyers. There were now no doubts as to where they were.
The Land of Tears, Petrie thought as he gazed upon it with sad eyes and recited the old warnings,
The last place we see while everyone still alive.He had no idea how right he was.
------------
Thank you, everyone, for your reviews! I would also like to thank TheWasp1995 and Historian1912 for looking over this chapter prior to its publication. I greatly appreciate your help!
DiddyKF1: You are quite correct that the previous chapter did not offer much in the way of plot in the 'present' scenes and, to be honest, the same can be said of this chapter. The focus has been on the past scenes here in order to establish what befell Petrie and led him to this place. From here the focus is going to shift to the present for the most part, although we shall see some elements of his past. Now that Petrie has had a trial by fire in the caverns he is going to face his true trial by fire in the flight that will either end with his salvation... or his death. I look forward to your thoughts on the latest installment. 
Sovereign: Indeed, this chapter presents a surprising element to Petrie's past though I am surprised that no one caught on to this possibility before when I hinted at exile in the second chapter. I also enjoy Knacker as a character and quite enjoyed the banter between Petrie, Knacker, and the nephews. I was quite conflicted in the third chapter between wanting to expand upon some of these characters and not wanting to drag down the focus on the chapter too much. It is a special difficulty in some ways due to the constant flashbacks in this story. I wanted to create the feeling that the reader (and Petrie) are caught in time in many ways. His life cannot go forward until his ordeal is finally surpassed. I only hope that I can continue to maintain this delicate balance in the chapters to come.