{
  "$type": "site.standard.document",
  "canonicalUrl": "https://serpentsquiggles.neocities.org//posts/fiction/endless-stars/i1",
  "path": "/posts/fiction/endless-stars/i1",
  "publishedAt": "2019-01-19T00:00:00.000Z",
  "site": "at://did:plc:ivoe7cntxuy6at7uzmxzs2ft/site.standard.publication/3mfk6cpprzt2t",
  "textContent": "::: subchapter\n\"Silent winds, my friend,\" said Hinte as she turned, waving her tail.\nWhile she appreciated Kinri's help in the lake, she breathed relief at\nparting ways with her. The exile had no appreciation of the thoughtful\nsilence, always annoying her with unhatched questions. But worse, she\nacted utterly apterous when she opted not to ask questions. As if her\ntongue were rubber and her frills were stone.\n\nThere were worse issues, however. Such as Hinte deciding to carry back\nall of those apes. When she should have known the inquirers would\nreturn regardless, when she should have known the weight would have her\nhelpless to fly. Or that it would put her at the mercy of those\nrockwraiths Kinri had doubtless stirred up. Hinte wasn't helpless.\n\nThe apes had escaped because of her tonguelessness. If she had tied them\ndown better, if she had ensured they held no surprises, if she had\nthought to remove their weapons, if she had brought more emergency\nmixtures, that incident could have been avoided. She was better than\nthis. These were hatchling mistakes, and she did not have the exile's\nexcuse of being a hatchly sifter. Her Dozent would be disappointed.\n\nThe dark-green wiver fell back on her hindlegs, crouched tensely,\nprepared to take off. Then, she remembered. Apterous rockwraiths.\n\nCould she exact a proper revenge on them? In the academy, she learned of\nthe alchemical plague that had eliminated the arboreal songwraiths from\nthe forests. She wondered if her Opa or her Dozent knew anything about\nit. She swatted her dark frills at the thought. Nothing for it, right\nnow.\n\nMore pressing would be defending herself better. Her Dozent's knife\nwouldn't suffice, even if she still had it. That left alchemical\ntricks, and Opa would know plenty. And she knew which she wanted; she'd\ndreamt of it since Academy.\n\nAs she crossed the canal and entered the clean and empty west side,\nHinte took off her cloak. She bristled her freed wings, felt the\npunctures nimbly mending. The cloak was an embrace or shield, but she\ndidn't need it at night, on the west side of town. Elsewhere, however?\nEven long after the Inquiry, a grain of suspicion regarding alchemists\nran through the town. Their work, of course, was accepted.\n\nMost of the town ignored or forgot rumors of Ushra's return, but the\nGären name itself wore alchemical connotations, even outside the\nforests. And treasonous connotations because of grandmother. And\nso, she did not garner friends, or even friendliness. Even above\nthe... unsavory reputation of forest-dwellers themselves.\n\nUshra had not helped that. Besides being the sole surviving alchemist\nfrom before the Inquiry, besides being older than\nGwymr/Frina⁠ ⁠---⁠ older than Dwylla⁠ ⁠---⁠ yet still living, Ushra was\na surgeon. You did not become surgeon without being well-acquainted\nwith dragon anatomy and physiology, with corpses and cadavers.\n\nIt offended the frilly religion of the cliffs. While their offense\nfledged an ashy sort of sense, it did not fly. Nothingness awaited you\nafter you alighted. Corpses were sacks of flesh that would only turn to\nrot and dust. The cliff-dwellers, however, insisted that your body acted\nas a vessel, that on death some distillate would evaporate out toward\nsome life-after-life. If you believed that, then of course you would\nprotect your corpses from science and medicine. And if, despite that\neffort, someone had gained enough familiarity to perform surgery?\n\nUshra had studied and invented die Wundervernarbung before the war,\nbefore there was a overabundance of listless, lifeless bodies. Even\nthen, there had not been a shortage of cadavers; but there had not been\na shortage of fledgling anatomists and surgeons, either. The academy\nhad a system, and if a student needed extra cadavers for further\nresearch, there were forms to fill out, intervals to wait. Ushra's mind\nworked faster than that.\n\nWhether it was for practicing surgery, or perfecting a flesh\nregenerating formula, there was suspicion against anyone possessing a\nskill that required intimacy with dragon physiology. Why?\n\nThey robbed graves.\n\nThose days had long landed for him, Ushra had said. Now that he once\nagain acted as head alchemist of Gwymr/Frina, he did not want for\ncadavers. But, he had continued, it would be a shame for you to lack\nthose skills should you ever need to travel abroad.\n\nTraveling abroad. The world held a number of alluring sounds and smells.\nAs a Gären, even unmoored from the forests, she did not want for money\nto spend or gyras to live. But would she ever follow that trail? Her\nDozent, her grandparents, even Digrif and Kinri all lived in the\ncliffs. Was there any cause to leave? She flexed her wings, and tasted\nwelcomed salt on her fangs.\n\nApterous rockwraiths.\n\nThe walk home was slow. She moved like a tortoise, unable to fly, only\nable to inch forward, step after step after step. The pace gave her\ntime to macerate in the events of the day. Her jaw was mouthing the\nwords that had set everything in motion.\n\n\"Have you found them?\"\n\nShe'd lighted on her Dozent's map and his calculations. She'd\nconfronted him like this, and he'd answered, his eyes never leaving his\nbottle, saying, \"Yes, I found⁠ ⁠---⁠ something. In the dustone cliffs.\nAt long last, ha.\" But why did his tone sound so hopeless?\n\n\"Let me go investigate, I will taste whatever is there.\"\n\n\"It's been a fruitless search for so long.\" It hadn't sounded like he\nwas talking to her. \"It would turn out no different.\"\n\n\"Then I will bring someone. With two tongues, I will find them.\"\n\n\"So assured. If you catch them, pry at the shadows, then this whole\ncrooked tapestry unravels.\" He licked his eyes, and his tongue hung in\nthe air for a beat. \"Let me sleep, hatchling. We have two\ndays⁠ ⁠---⁠ and you wouldn't let me rest till then, would you?\"\n\nHer Dozent had never told her the full extent of his mission, never even\ntold her who 'they' were. She had her guesses⁠ ⁠---⁠ that Wrang\ncharacter; and perhaps even the rod-twirler and the angry guard Ffrom.\nBut Wrang stood more centrally; he catalyzed this somehow, she knew. He\nhad smelled of sour metal and ozone, and she knew exactly what magic\nsmelled like.\n\nWhoever it was, her Dozent had been right. Someone was using the apes.\nHinte'd solved that problem. She only wished Dozent's solution didn't\nleave her claws dripping. But there was no guilt in justice; and there\nwas no loss in justice, either⁠ ⁠---⁠ only gain. Only gain.\n\nAnd now, with the threat of war on the horizon, she found her gaze\nsearching that star-splattered sky above. What had he meant with his\nwords? The whole crooked tapestry unravels.\n\nStaring up the sky, Hinte's dark frills folded back. More than once\nKinri had dragged her out in the southern cliffs, to 'gaze at the\nstars.' As if there were anything worth seeing in the mess of\ndiminutive suns that hid from the luminous lovers, who far outshone any\noffering of the night.\n\nThe exile, whose night-blue face looked as messy with silver scales as\nthe sky above, she could tell you everything and more about any of those\nstars. How they were indispensable for navigating high in the sky over\ndays and days of anonymous ocean, or how they were moving and you\ncould see it if you built a telescope the size of a house. Kinri had\nsaid the stars watched you no matter how far you went.\n\nWhat vast tapestray had to come undone to leave that cluttered mess of\nlittle runt suns up there?\n\nHinte swatted her frills.\n\nIt never had. Hinte spread her frills and brought her gaze back to the\nearth. The stars were nothing. Blind and silent. She wouldn't have time\nfor such pointless musings if she could fly. Apterous.\n\n------------------------------------------------------------------------\n:::\n\n::: subchapter\nHinte did reach her home. As she stepped from the gravelly lapilli to\nthe soft, loamy soil, she felt at home on two levels. If you clouded\nyour eyes and held your tongue, you could pretend you never left, never\nhad to leave the forests. Hinte could almost forget what happened, why\nshe now lived with her grandparents.\n\nShe was very still. When the dark-green wiver cleared her eyes the\nillusion broke, as it should. The house stood before her, one story\ntall, not unlike a traditional Teif/Günstig house. Yet it lay on the\nground, a departure. The neighborhood itself lay in a basin of sorts, a\ndistance from any canyon walls, which had dragged any choice from them.\nAhead, the looming shapes of trees and other plants writhed in the wind\nand shadows. It felt welcoming in a way the red and amber lamps of\nGwymr/Frina never had.\n\nThe dark-green wiver strode toward the house in a high walk, ignoring\nthe ache in her legs. The Gären estate had a wide and raised porch, fit\nfor landing. At the moment, Hinte appreciated instead that she could\nclimb onto the porch. Apterous.\n\nHinte eyed the walls of the house as she marched toward the door. The\nwindows sat narrowed in the cute slit design of the forests. In those\nwindows lay glass, another departure, something that was, in the\nforests, a luxury. But they lived in Gwymr/Frina now, where glass sold\nlike brick. The walls, however, were built of wood, something that had\ntraded places with glass as a luxury. It had slacked her tongue, seeing\nso many houses built of scoria or even stranger stones. The town had\nhouses built of dustone or fire clay, too. But those were just sad.\n\nShe gave the windows another glance. Light was slinking out from breaks\nin the dark curtains; Hinte didn't give herself time to groan. Before\nshe stepped onto the porch she had stripped out of her sifting suit and\nscraped the largest chunks of glass from her legs. If you flicked, you\ncould still taste she'd been sifting. Ushra would. But Hinte pulled\nout again her cloak, covered it all up. She would step into her room\nbefore anyone had time to wave their tongues.\n\nThe short, wide door lay before her. It opened inward and its handle\nperched on the right edge. She glanced at the keyhole just below.\n\nFalling to her hindlegs, the dar",
  "title": "Smolder"
}