[JOURNAL ENTRY EXCERPTS]

Day 86,

We made some good progress on Murian lessons today. Unfortunately, Fortitude decided to inquire about human clothing, which led to a rather awkward discussion about human physiology.

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Day 87,

The Daybreak should have departed today.

I won't know for certain until I go back to the Horizon to receive the confirmation message, but I certainly hope things stay on schedule. We have a margin of a mere two days until the Solstice – that doesn't give us much time to prepare, but if the Daybreak is late then I'm going to have to speak to hundreds if not thousands of dragons on behalf of humanity.

I'm no politician. I'm not qualified

Upon second thought – I'm the only human who's even aware that dragons exist. I cannot deny that I am the most qualified ambassador available at this juncture, even if it is by default.

It won't do any good for me to hide from this responsibility. I need to be prepared for the very real possibility that I will be the sole envoy of humanity for the foreseeable future.

[JOURNAL ENTRY EXCERPTS]

Day 88,

Nothing unusual to report. Fortitude has also promised to show me something interesting tomorrow, though she refuses to elaborate on what it is.

[Day 89]

"Do you think you'll be safe?" Fathom asked, casting a doubtful eye at Fortitude.

"Be calm. I will not let him be hurt," Fortitude snorted in derision, her Murian having improved markedly over the past day.

"I'll be fine," Pryce reassured, though he felt rather coddled. Still, he appreciated the concern, but Fortitude had only agreed to show him her tools and creations if he came alone.

It took a minute, but Fathom was eventually convinced to leave, grumbling all the while.

"So, are you going to show me now?" Pryce asked a little impatiently.

"Yes, yes, I show you now," Fortitude said, her jaws parted in an excited smile. "Follow me."

"I know I promised not to tell anyone about what you are going to show me, but do we not need to do the hand-thing?" Pryce asked, jogging in order to catch up to her.

"Yes, but you are too small. Hand-thing looks stupid."

She led him a short distance through the nearby forest, giving Pryce an unexpected opportunity to observe the environment from the ground for once. The local flora, though foreign, did not appear completely alien. After all, a shrub or a tree could only be so different, though they occasionally came across very odd plants.

One such plant greatly resembled a pitcher, and a closer inspection revealed a surprising amount of water-like liquid inside of it.

"You…move like a hatchling," Fortitude rumbled, her eyes narrowed in amusement. "This plant eats bugs, but you can drink this water." She paused for thought, then amended, "dragons can drink this water. You maybe get sick."

"Don't worry, I'm not going to drink weird plant water," Pryce chuckled.

"Good," she said, then nodded towards another strange plant. "This plant is sweet."

"Sweet?" Pryce asked, briefly mistaking the elder's words as youthful human slang. The shrub in question had a large base that supported an odd structure that almost resembled an elongated tongue, except it was half a meter tall with odd dew-tipped hairs jutting out the sides of the 'tongue'.

"This plant also eat bugs, it…go like this," Fortitude said, and demonstrated by licking dew off the plant.

Pryce blinked in surprise as the plant immediately began to curl in on itself with surprising alacrity. Under normal circumstances it might have trapped an unsuspecting insect, even if the predatory plant's present efforts were in complete vain.

"Oh, it's syrup," Pryce realized as he observed the sticky liquid dewdrops. That must be how it attracted its prey. It made sense, but it was still bizarre to see a plant move so quickly. He doubted this would pose a threat to anyone, but it did make him wonder if there were any similar plants that he should watch out for.

"Walk now," Fortitude said impatiently, nudging him towards the camp.

"Alright, alright," Pryce chuckled, and they resumed their trip.

Shortly afterwards, the forest adopted an oddly uniform structure, with strange shapes sticking out of the surrounding trunks. Upon closer inspection, these objects were revealed to be clam shells almost as large as his head, though they were currently empty.

"I use shells like this to get tree-blood," Fortitude said, pulling a shell free and emptying its contents into a clay pot.

The top layer of the tree sap seemed to form a strange, rubbery substance, though Pryce wasn't sure what it actually was. Either way, it seemed she had already harvested the sap from all the other shells earlier, and had only saved this one to serve as a demonstration.

Fortitude carried the pot in one hand and adopted a strange gait, using her broken wing as a surprisingly effective crutch as she led him to the mouth of a nearby cave.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

This opening led to a deceptively vast cavern lit by a singular beam of sunlight that streamed through the ceiling. It was more than bright enough that his eyes did not need to adjust, but it still took Pryce a moment to understand what he was seeing.

When he did, it struck him dumb.

Thousands upon thousands of ceramic works of art lined the shelves carved into the walls. The pieces came in every shape and size imaginable, and in nearly every color of the rainbow. They admittedly weren't as vibrant in hue as those one could find in a pottery store, but that hardly detracted from the grandeur of her achievement.

"How many years did it take for you to make these?" he asked in breathless wonder.

"Maybe…one hundred years?" Fortitude uncertainly replied. "I did not make these…in one time. It take long time to learn how to make some types, so this is hard to answer. Some of these are old, some are new. I have many more in other places."

Pryce had empirically known that Fortitude was 337 years old, but such a length of time had been difficult for him to truly understand. Now with this mere fraction of her work before him he was finally beginning to comprehend just how long a century was.

The pieces seemed to have been organized by the time of their creation, as those in the back appeared notably less refined than the other pieces. These had an orange, bumpy texture like the one Fortitude had carried into the cave. The other works were much harder to describe due to their sheer variety, but they seemed to be based on everything from dragons to animals or even to abstract shapes. Almost all of them had some sort of design etched upon their surfaces, including geometric patterns, symbols, and icons of unknown meaning.

"Amazing," Pryce murmured, awed by the literal century of work before him. "Can I touch them?" He asked, holding out a hand in mid-extension.

Fortitude rumbled, a deep and uncertain noise. "Why? Humans can make better ones, yes?"

"Those were not made by dragons," Pryce replied emphatically. "But that does remind me, I do have something to show." He brought out a plain glass mug from his backpack, just like any one might find in a kitchen. It was unremarkable by human standards, but the faceted design was quite beautiful from a fresh perspective. "You can touch this, then I can touch these other ones, okay?"

Fortitude's eyes lit up as she carefully accepted the mug. "You can touch them, but be careful," she said, with only a glance away from her borrowed treasure.

"Of course," Pryce nodded, and gently reached out to brush a finger against the hard, uneven surface of the nearest pot. The material itself was somewhat unrefined, but its meticulous design belied the skill Fortitude had honed through centuries of trial-and-error research. "Amazing."

While he marveled at these ceramic works of art, Fortitude stared in awe at the human artifact in her hands.

«So clear, and so…perfect,» she rumbled, an indecipherable expression on her face. "This is more beautiful than all things I have made. If you have things like this, then why do you think my art is…amazing?" The elder had a particularly stone-faced expression on her face as she asked this question, but Pryce thought her eyes had a forlorn quality to them.

He pressed his lips together and he took a minute to formulate his response. "Why are things beautiful?"

Fortitude cocked her head, confused by the apparent non-sequitur. "Things are beautiful because they are interesting."

"Okay, so why is the cup interesting?"

The elder cocked her head. "Because it is glass, and clear, and perfect. Is this not obvious?"

"To most humans that cup is just a cup. It's not interesting at all, because it is very common."

"That…does not make sense," Fortitude replied, flattening her spines in confusion. "How did they make this material? What kind of fire did they use? How was the liquid glass shaped? Is that not interesting to you?"

"Well, yes, it is," Pryce admitted, "but there's no time to learn about everything, so most people just worry about their own lives."

Fortitude narrowed her eyes as she lifted the glass cup up to the light, its faceted surface causing tiny glints of light to dance around the cave walls. "This is…not what I expected. I assumed humans to be curious and love creating things," she said, sounding somewhat disappointed.

"That is still very true, but not everyone is like that." Pryce scratched his head as he considered another tact. "Tell me, did you learn how to make these from others?"

"That is a complicated question," Fortitude deeply rumbled. "Many years ago we lived with others, and we helped each other make things."

"Oh? What happened to them?"

"Things became complicated," the elder succinctly summarized. "Our group did not last very long, so I learned most of my knowledge without others."

"Really? Devotion didn't help?"

Fortitude cocked her head. "She is not others."

"I see…well, the important thing is that you made all of this-" he gestured to the vast array of artworks around them, "-without learning much from others, and that is amazing."

The elder narrowed her eyes in a frown. "But humans must do the same, yes?"

"Humans depend on others to survive, remember? We can make amazing things because we learn skills from others, but you did almost everything yourself."

"I…think I understand now," Fortitude slowly replied as she sat down on her haunches. "You are very strange. But not bad. Are other humans like you?"

"Humans…can be very different," Pryce said, scratching the stubble that had begun to grow over the past few days. "I might be a bit strange."

"Hmm. That is bad," Fortitude chuffed. "It would be interesting if they were all like you."

"Oh…thank you?"

"Do not thank me now," she snorted as she gestured outside. "We have something more interesting to show you."

Pryce initially thought the column of smoke was a sign of Devotion's breakfast preparations, but as they approached their destination he realized it was something else entirely.

A great dragon-sized kiln sat in the rocky clearing, with Devotion studiously tending its flame. The elder only gave them a brief nod in greeting before returning to her task. She handled a twisted and worn iron poker to rake the coals, though she kept her head a comfortable distance away from the fire. Pryce was a little amused to see her wearing a pair of thick leather gloves, though upon closer inspection they were more like mittens.

"What are you making?"

"Clay tools," Fortitude replied. "I like to wait ten days for clay to dry, but this is good enough. When these are ready I can try to make iron."

"I see," Pryce said as he examined the fascinating kiln. It was shaped like a rather lopsided dome, and seemed to be made entirely of clay, stone, and mud. Dry logs were fed into the lower hole, while on the opposite side sat a chimney. Pryce was far from familiar with pre-industrial kiln designs, but it was clearly designed to draw cold air into the fire before expelling it out the chimney, greatly reducing the need for bellows.

The bottom hole was partially sealed off with slabs of rock, preventing the kiln from getting too hot. Underneath the chimney sat another opening around the middle of the kiln, giving Pryce a peek at the baking tools.

"How long will it take to finish these tools?"

"Three days. It will need one day to cool, and then I will need to fire it again to make it shiny."

"Ah, that's called 'glazing'," Pryce said. He'd seen the glazed ceramics among her collection, though only the more recent half had such a level of refinement.

"Glazing, hrrm?" Fortitude hummed. "Do you know much about ceramics?"

"Only a little. I'm sure you know more than me about these things."

"Understand," Fortitude nodded. "That is too bad. I would like to learn human knowledge about ceramics."

"I'm sure I can find someone who can teach you all about them," Pryce offered.

"That would be very interesting," Fortitude smiled. «Do you need any help, my wings?»

«Could you get me some more wood?» Devotion asked as she fanned the smoke away. «I'm running a bit low here.»

«Of course,» Fortitude nodded.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Pryce asked.

Both elders turned and eyed his comparatively frail body with a doubtful air.

"You can just sit and see," Fortitude politely instructed.

[JOURNAL ENTRY EXCERPTS]

Day 90,

The firing of Fortitude's ceramic pipes went well; four out of five of the pipes survived the cooling process.

In other news, Fathom and Celeste are still holding their daily hunting competitions. The result seems to be a toss-up each time, something that seems to please the both of them.

[JOURNAL ENTRY EXCERPTS]

Day 91,

I don't know what ceramics are normally glazed with, but Fortitude's custom mineral solution appears to have worked quite well. The pipes have obtained a glossy layer and now look significantly stronger.

They just need one more day to cool, and then Fortitude can try making some iron. There's something engrossing about seeing (most of) the process from start to finish, and I find myself greatly hoping for her success.

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