Logos Conclave

The Western Wall was a great white wave, its lower slopes sprinkled with the green of pine groves amidst the now-bare hardwoods.
Snow now fell over the Lir’s early encampment, the grassy knoll in the foothills. But the Lir themselves had made their decision, found their new camp close upon the plains to the east, reasoning that the herds of horses were their best wager for surviving the oncoming weather.

The new site had been prepared on the banks of the river, in the lee of an over-looking bluff; additional wind-breaks had been constructed along the edges of the camp, fallen trees having been dragged in and threaded between living trunks to a height twice that of humans, according to Logos-determined measurements. The Logos themselves had found a deep, tree-filled cleft, a short box canyon further south in the same bluff, perhaps a quarter-days’ walk distant.

It was the 51st day since Exile from Eden had begun and the Logos had called for a conclave to discuss everything that had occurred- an event the Lir had not been aware of until the Logos Nunejinn had appeared with the announcement. ‘Inauspicious’ was the word she had used to describe the late arrival of the message.
“I do not think that word means what she thinks it means,” Disanjer had offered as they watched her fly off. Disanjer was the Lir’s ‘memory,’ his mind absorbing every detail, every fact brought to him in an attempt to keep track of the history of the Lir from the moment of Exile.

When no word was offered either way on his statement the dragon continued: “Her phrasing suggested it is an open invitation. Please, Kavus, I’d very much like to accompany you.”
Despite his position as Lir historian all of the Lir had been delegated daily tasks to keep on top of their situation; Ssyan had already assigned Disanjer a hunting post. As much as he felt obligated to do the job, this seemed far more important.

Kavus watched with some amusement as his friend all but danced in anticipation of a ‘yes.’
His response was a curt “Come see me in the morning.” Disanjer walked away with his head bowed, whiskers trailing in the thin crust of snow.
“That was mean,” Thule said.
Kavus smirked. “How long do you think it will take him to realize I didn’t say ‘no’?”
There was a “Whoop!” at the far edge of the camp. “Right about now, I think.”

-------

The night had been clear and cold but the Lir enjoyed sleeping close by each other, only a few scattered about the edges of the group; between that proximity and the thick manes of fur they were graced with, sleep was still fairly comfortable.
One benefit of the camp was an open exposure to the east, looking across the river to a flat horizon; the sun lit the camp almost instantly upon rising.

Kavus was one of those who preferred to be on the fringe of the group, lying with his body pointed eastwards, ready the instant the sun graced his face to leap to his feet and get on with the day’s work. If he had to be First, he intended to be First in his duties to his Lir… initiating the day’s entertainment was up to whomever accomplished their tasks first- and he was rarely the first one finished, often the last.

This morning, though it was a clear shot straight to the horizon, there seemed to be a shadow impinging on his view of the sunrise. Kavus gathered himself slowly, eyes cracking open ever so slightly to find something blurry close before his face. Paw-hands ready to lash out the dragon opened his eyes wide-
To find a horse’s skull staring back at him.

His strangled shout had the entire troupe on their feet, to find their leader literally standing straight up on his tail for an instant as he flung himself backwards. The next sounds they heard were the deep guffaws of Thule, his forelegs clutched across his chest as he rolled about on his back.
The third event was the sight of Kavus leaping into the air, his long body arcing over Thule’s-
There ensued a flurry of limbs and tails, snarls, snarfles and barks as the two dragons wrestled in the snow, the sounds shortly evolving into mutual laughter as the two dragons collapsed in a heap.
After a long moment a hand-paw rose into the air. “We’re done here. Ssyan?”
The big female began to move among the Lir. “Good morning all,” She said, nudging Lir with hips and head as she moved. “I trust everyone remembers their chores this morning?”
Grumbles and protest rose all about but Ssyan was having none of it, cajoling, castigating and slapping with her tail where need be. Kavus felt that the entire troupe was going to wrestle her down some morning… his expression grew wistful at the thought. The Lir needed some playtime, but when? There was so much to do-

“She does quite well,” Thule said as Ssyan got the troupe on their feet.
“She’s raised more pups than anyone,” Kavus rejoined, allowing his body to relax- intentionally making the tangle of their two bodies harder on Thule. “And they listen to her,” he continued, looking down into his friend’s face. “Listen to me, Thule: I don’t like that skull.” It was in fact his rule that the remains of their kills be removed a fair distance from the camp- as much to ease his feelings of guilt over that first kill, as to keep them secure from the approach of wolves, or any other predator which might be out there.
Thule looked away. “I was just playing,” he said sulkily. “I miss being able to play whenever we wanted.” Indeed, life in Eden had been mostly play in one form or another- and that in a literal sense, also.
“We’ll have our chance,” Kavus remonstrated. “This weather cannot last forever-“
“We don’t know that-“
“We do!” Kavus shoved himself up a bit, his hand-paws pressed upon his friend’s chest. “God may be testing us, but He would not put us upon a dying world. This will not last. We just have to… find our way…”

His voice trailed off as he glanced up, his eyes meeting those of a dark blue female, Satho, who was slowly walking past them. Contact between them lingered as the beginnings of a smile rose on her face; then, she turned herself towards the river, intent upon her task.
Thule looked up, only able to see the underside of his friend’s jaw. “Don’t you dare drool on me.”
“…what?”
“Excuse me?”
Thule craned his head back; Kavus shook himself, looked in the same direction, both of them finding an unfamiliar Logos looking back.
“What you two are doing. Is this some kind of mating ritual?”
“What? NO!”
“Ooomph! Get off my chest!”
The two scrambled to their feet, snow flying in the raven’s face as they did so. “We’re just playing,” Kavus said sheepishly.
“I wouldn’t know where to start,” Thule added.
“Not. Helping! …. Who are you?”
“I am Ubiwjinn,” the raven offered. “I am to accompany you to the conclave.”
Disanjer came pounding up to them, sliding to a halt- the raven shoved aside with a squawk in the process. “Am I too late?”
“We’re still here, aren’t we?”
Ubiwjinn shook snow off herself and stared at the trio. “Are you Lir always like this?”
“Worse,” Disanjer said. “Trust me, I keep track.”
The Logos stared.
“Um. Shall we be going?”

Upon that question Kavus immediately set out, pausing for an instant to glare at the skull in the snow. It looked familiar… “I’m sorry.”
He proceeded down-river with Disanjer and Ubiwjinn, unaware that Thule had held back for a moment, his attention also upon the skull.

---

The trio were silent as they followed the raven, Ubiwjinn flitting from tree to distant tree but always maintaining visual contact as she led them forward.
Two had many things on their minds, many questions they wished to ask; One- Thule- had but one overriding thing on his mind as they traveled- but it was not a thought he could speak openly, and not to his companions. Or any of the Lir.
He wore a brief harness, holding upon his back a small pouch made of pliable vines woven tightly together by Sunnol, whose weaving expertise had grown substantially over the past days. Contained within it was the object primary to his reasons for attending the conclave. Thule was looking forward to presenting it to his intended audience.

That their destination was close at hand was apparent from the increasingly loud, raucous chatter; Soon they could see clouds of the large, black birds, either flocking about the shelter of the box canyon or perched within the trees it contained, some of which still sported leaves a few green leaves.
“I never knew there were so many,” Disanjer opened.
“We number one thousand, one-hundred and twenty-three,” Ubiwjinn called back. “However we did not know that ourselves before the Exile. Too often we were scattered all across Eden- no way to keep track!”

Disanjer’s eyes widened. The number was beyond his experience. “This ought to be interesting. They have been flying everywhere they could since we all arrived.”
Kavus was thoughtful as they trotted into the interior of the gathering. Humans were on his mind. “Then you will be very happy here, Dis. Let’s see what they have for us to begin with- and then I want you to go among them and ask as many questions as they will answer.”
Thule made to speak for an instant; decided to hold his tongue. He already knew who he wanted to speak with.

As they entered the Logos flocked to either side of them, taking their place in three large trees which bordered upon a central clearing. The open space allowed them a view of everyone- and everyone a view of them. The trio took up a grassy spot some thirty yards from the position held by the First, Senjinn and Ourajin, the Logos also maintaining a respectful distance from them.
As if on command the entire flock fell silent.
Senjinn and Ourajin looked expectantly at the Lir.
Kavus and his companions looked just as expectantly at the Logos.
This dragged on for several long moments.
“Well, this is new,” Kavus opened.
Senjinn cocked his head to one side in confusion. “What’s that?”
“All of you have shut up for once.”
The entire flock erupted as one; laughter, hoots and cheering from most corners- cat-calls from one smaller group. The trio looking about in amusement as Senjinn hopped up and down, his wings semaphoring for his people to cease talking, his voice unheard over the rest-

Silence finally ensued. Senjinn cleared his throat. “Hm. Yes. Well we are new at this-“
“I hadn’t noticed,” Kavus smirked.
“Do you suppose the Humans are like this, also?” Disanjer wondered out loud.
Ourajin pounced upon that. “Humans! Yes! If we must begin somewhere-“
“Oura’s exploration teams flew to the e-east,” Sen stepped in, earning a wing-slap from his mate. “Mine proceeded to the south. We instructed them to spend four days in flight each way; two days to explore-“

“So we learned from A’Cojinn,” Kavus spoke up. In a nearby tree the raven in question leapt forward from the rest, bobbing in acknowledgement.
“But we question the period of time,” Kavus continued. “I recall very long periods of time passing as we explored Eden- I should think this world just as vast?”
Disanjer: “I thought we were talking Humans-“
“We desired a much longer period of exploration, also,” Oura returned. “But we feared the approaching weather might preclude their ability to return if they remained absent longer. You can understand, until we know what is happening, we do not wish to have any of our own stranded elsewhere.”

“I do understand,” Kavus’ thoughts went direct to Magus and Pyth. “But: were their journeys enough to learn anything? Beyond finding the Humans.”
“Oh hey, Yes!” Disanjer said. “Humans?”
Oura gave him a hard look, then turned to her left. “Krikonjinn.”

From a large Oak tree which appeared to hold a large minority of the Logos appeared one particularly large raven, those about him edging back so that he might stand out from the feathery black mass. As appeared to be typical of all the Logos Krikonjinn launched directly into his account.
“Upon the 14th day of Exile my Flight traveled east as directed, in hopes of finding the Humans which a very early expedition had discovered were on this world with us. Evidence of their passage is extensive in that they are hunting and consuming plant life in a wide swath as they go. There were also indications that they are using fire-“
“Eh?” Disanjer pricked up. “ ‘fire’?”

“Their term,” Krikonjinn replied. “Humans are as you know adept at naming things. ‘Fire’ is a force which consumes plant life but mostly the remains of trees. When we encountered one group of Humans late on the 3rd day of our outward journey they were in the process of… ‘cooking,’ with fire. Cooking horse meat, to be exact.”
“Cooking.” Disanjer’s eyes flickered back and forth, the Lir rocking up on his haunches, his visage intent upon the raven.
“They also looked upon us with some hostility.” Krikonjinn seemed to withdraw within himself a bit.  “We do not understand this. Their only explanation was to attack us, which we managed to avoid though several were slightly injured. We chose to proceed eastwards.”
Thule looked interested; Kavus looked alarmed. “The Humans have split up? Where is their First?”
“Four days’ travel was not enough to determine,” Krikon said by way of response. “Upon completion of the 4th day we paused and explored briefly to the north and south. Other groups of Humans were observed; they appear to be much greater in number than even we Logos.

A secondary goal was to meet up with other Flights of Logos during the two-day overview of the region. This did not occur. We believe this was partially due to the differences in strength, speed and stamina of the various Logos in each Flight- but not the only reason.”
Krikon drew himself up as he finished. “As per instruction we completed our scout at the end of the 6th day, and began our return. This is where the discrepancy becomes apparent, for upon completion of the 10th day of our Flight it became apparent that a bit over 11 days had elapsed-”
Noise exploded from the Sycamore on the other side as a much smaller group of Logos spoke up. “We, too!” one cried. “We sought out Humans to the south! Many more of them went south! Time is wrong in that direction also!”

“Wait! More on the Humans!” Disanjer was desperate to learn all he could but it was becoming apparent that the Logos could not stay focused- and were not paying attention to their First, both of whom were now dancing about trying to gain their people’s attention.
Kavus found himself staring intently at that group. He had previously met A’Cojinn, one of the southern Flight leaders. Rather curiously A’Cojinn and his Flight stood well apart from that group of ravens, indeed sitting in another tree entirely.
“Those are the ones who do not like us,” Thule observed. That particular group had held his interest since their arrival.
“I did not see that in A’Cojinn,” Kavus said over his shoulder. “While he did not join us that night his Flight did- you recall them joining us that night, yes?”
Thule turned his head away. “I was… stargazing elsewhere.”
Kavus glanced back for an instant. Thule often wandered long after the rest of the clan had settled down for the night-
The cacophony about them increased as the two larger groups- Eastern Flights and Southern Flights- began to castigate each other over something none of the Lir could make out. Kavus’ demeanor as it continued hinted at exasperation; he knew an argument had been brewing among the Logos but this was not the time!

Disanjer was a bit more open about his feelings, nudging up against his friend. “Kavus, they’ve barely begun and we’re already going nowhere. This is that ‘we need to fly south’ bit we’ve been hearing of and it seems more important to them than providing the information they promised us! I need to talk to this Krikonjinn direc-”
Kavus reached back, laying a paw-hand on his friend’s shoulder. “No need to ask me,” he said, eyes focused upon the Southern Flight. “This argument methinks has more bearing upon our immediate situation. Go- and listen. You know they will be happy to talk.”
Disanjer made off with a chipper bob, pleased. Neither of them noticed that Thule had already gone his own way.

The First began to make some headway against the massive argument, Oura and Senn flinging themselves headlong into the two groups, seeking out Flight leaders, both wing- and brow-beating them into silence, which they then directed them to enforce upon their teams.
Senjinn returned to his roost first, glaring alternately at both groups as ruffled feathers settled down all around. Ourajin joined him several minutes later, clearly the more upset of the two. “Reason, Love, not emotion,” Senjinn cautioned. “This was coming for some time.”
“Yes, but in front of the First of the Lir? This isn’t what they came to learn.”
“Oh, isn’t it?” Sen looked about, a hard glint in his black eyes. “We observe everything about the Lir. We talk to them constantly. But what do they see of us?”
The two could see Disanjer and Thule moving towards the two opposing camps. Oura watched them, glanced at her mate with a nod of approval. “They seek answers to their questions. Perhaps reports are not the best way to go.”
“I concur,” Sen said. “Kavus! Ask us what you will. We shall… do Better.”

Kavus had kept one eye upon the First of the Logos the entire time. “We appreciate that, Sen.” He took note that Disanjer was now among the Eastern Flight and that some few of them were quite ready to engage him. Almost at the same moment he caught a glimpse of blue-green fur, as Thule made his way to the Southern Flight.
Disanjer had asked. Thule on the other hand had taken off without so much as a word, an act totally out of line with agreed-upon practice.
The Lir had decided in those first days- Kavus as First; Magus and Pyth, in parallel thought- that their movements and thinking must always be known to each other at least to a degree, in order to avoid the mistake Magus and Pyth had made in Eden. Thule was Kavus’ closest friend and he was aware he’d allowed him some leeway in that regard- but Kavus planned to question Thule’s actions on this occasion.

“Kavus?” Sen queried.
“Yes! Sorry,” he responded, bringing full attention to the First. As the Logos were abrupt in their words, so he intended to be. “Why must the Lir learn how to hunt?”
That silenced quite a bit of background chatter, many ravens suddenly focused upon Kavus. It was a bit unnerving.
“Learn how to hunt?” Both First looked puzzled. “This does not appear to be a problem for you?” Oura asked.
“To an extent it is,” Kavus began. “Look: We have come to understand that we were Created with claws and teeth designed for slicing through meat. We can hear for long distances- If you recall, Sen,” Kavus grinned. “We have been given legs which carry us swiftly across the landscape-”
“Once you understood the landscape,” Oura reminded.

“Yes.” Upon his walk back to their old camp that first day, Kavus had discovered a number of injuries from his stumbles through the forest, including a slice in his side which was now become a scar. It was only some days later, when A’Cojinn’s Flight had joined them for the evening meal, that he had finally learned that what he felt was called ‘pain.’
“God designed us to be hunters. Yet we have had… difficulties taking down prey. The more we figure out, the more they seem to figure out about us. Even our ability to take their form has not sufficed for very long.
But it seems to us that none of this should have mattered. We were designed to be hunters- should we not know how to hunt?”
Dead silence.
The First of the Logos appeared to shrink, their feathers tucking down tight about their bodies, suddenly very aware that not only Kavus but most of the Logos were staring at them. “You- you are asking us to explain the way you were Created.”
Sen suddenly flared his wings out, stretching to his toe-tips, startling his mate “And we shall have an answer! More or less. Please ask another question while we discuss this. Thinkers, attend!”
“Another question?” Kavus gaped, as a score of ravens darted in to surround the First, abruptly turning their backs upon the Lir.
“Well,” Kavus huffed, “You certainly live up to my people’s assessment of ‘rude’-”

“I wish to be of assistance to you,” came a familiar voice, Kavus turning to see A’Cojinn drop to the ground a few yards away. As he approached a score or more conversations broke out among the Logos, the noise levels threatening to drown out any conversation. “A’Cojinn, pleased to see you again. But I must say you are a disorganized lot-“
“Please! Oh, please-” A’co waved one wing towards him- “Do not think so badly of us. Today is not typical. Consider our First- they like you are always thinking of their people, what needs to be done to protect them, the need for information. Sen and Oura are constantly sending out Flights, listening hard to their reports- along with their Thinkers-” He indicated the crowd of ravens about the First.
“I should think you belong in that crowd.”
“I prefer to think on my own, though I do consult with my friends if I am confused on a subject,” A’Co said. “It provides a different perspective from the consensus. Now, consider: The Logos are constantly coming and going. Our First must know everything that can be gleaned from our surroundings, from you, from the Humans. They have oft-times been addled and exhausted by day’s end. Come to today: our clans are at odds with each other. We have no idea what you are going to ask. We have been so occupied gathering information that we spent no time organizing this gathering. Your invitation was not even a thought until-“

Kavus suddenly smiled, feeling a lot less perturbed. “Your explanation does your First well, A’Cojinn. I can forgive them for being overly occupied.” He’d slept hard for entire days on several occasions since their arrival, mind and body running overtime on the needs of the Lir.
Glancing across the compound he found Disanjer engulfed within a black torus of birds, the dragon looking dizzy as he attempted to listen to all of them at once.
Thule was another matter, the Logos about him appearing standoffish, the dragon looming over them, his mane frizzed up. What was that about?
“I am an adjunct to the First,” A’Cojinn said. “And it seems to my thinking, better to talk one on one. I shall answer as I can- if not, we shall put the question to the First and the Thinkers.”

“Hm.” Kavus laid himself down, forelegs folding over each other as he regarded the raven. “Tell me about the Southern Flight.”
“This is your first concern?”
When Kavus did not answer A’Co took a deep breath. “The Southern Flight are led by Amintajinn. I was appointed secondary leader… for the purpose of hearing their argument, and she is the primary actor in that argument.”
“But your Flight was a very early one. And this argument was already under way?”
“Kavus, this argument began the day Exile began. But beyond that: the Logos were witness to the events of the Fall. When our First were approached by Lucian they rejected his reasoning- but were curious to see what, if anything, would happen when he approached your First. And where they went, many Logos followed.
You are aware of exactly what your First did, yes? God impressed that upon the minds of all the Lir when Exile began. We Logos however- many of us, that is- watched and listened. We too can tell you every detail of what happened-“
A’Cojinn paused for a moment as the Lir leapt to his feet. He had expected this reaction but held his tongue, his natural curiosity only ramping up with the Lir’s next words.
“I’m sorry,” Kavus whispered, mincing about for a few moments, hackles rising. “I- I want to-“
“Run?” he watched the dragon closely. “Why have you not?”
“Because!”
Kavus paced back and forth before the raven for several long moments, struggling to focus his mind. Magus and Pyth had run, had not yet returned. It left too much pain wide open- “Because… this needs resolved.”

He flopped down in front of the bird with a huff, head down, nose to the ground. “So. The Logos witnessed what we did. We ruined it for them. We ruined it for Everyone. And of course you are angry at us, you have the right to be angry-“
“Those of us who witnessed the event are not angry with you.”
Kavus looked up, startled. “But you saw-“
“And we realized,” A’Cojinn said. “We could have put an end to this. We had argued against Lucian’s words yet we allowed him to go after you. We were complicit in his designs the moment he walked away from us.
So yes, we saw. We saw Our mistake. Perhaps it is you who should be angry with us?”
“No. I… don’t know why, but no.” Kavus shook himself, glanced about. Disanjer’s group seemed to be winding down; Thule and those he had been with were out of sight. What was that about…

“A’Cojinn,” he said, still staring out where Thule had been, “Amintajinn-”
“Is also Adjunct to the First. She and a fair number of the Logos were elsewhere in Eden. And, like yourselves, suddenly found themselves aware of everything which had happened-” He raised his wings, forestalling Kavus’ speaking- “Yes. We, like you, were given full knowledge of our sin in this matter. Only in our case the perception of the event appears to differ. Those of us who witnessed the Fall have chosen to stand with you. Those who did not directly experience it…”
“Have chosen to lay the blame entirely upon us,” Kavus finished.
A sudden image of the Human response to the Fall came to him, the dragon shuddering. “If the Humans feel the same way.”
“I believe your Disanjer might be hearing about that,” A’Cojinn said.

---

Disanjer felt that he had bitten off more than he could chew- and he hadn’t even known that phrase or its meaning until just a few minutes ago.
Krikonjinn had watched as the dragon approached their tree, understanding that this Lir could soak up information without effort, was the ‘memory’ of the Lir.
Well he was going to test this Lir’s limits. And while he could not smile, there was a set to his body which suggested one. Krikonjinn dropped from his branch the moment Disanjer arrived- followed by several-score of his kin.

The dragon found himself surrounded and somewhat unnerved, as the Logos were totally silent, all looking at him expectantly. His jaws worked several times before he found words. “I am used to hearing, more than seeing-“
“Then we should be more open,” Krikonjinn began. He’d picked up a certain type of ‘joke,’ as the Humans called it, now wondering how long the Lir would take to catch on-
Disanjer’s eyes crossed in his confusion. “Whatever. Please, Krikonjinn-”
“Krikon will do. We got tired of all that ‘jinn’ stuff days ago.”
“Days! Time. Uhh, save that for another time. I would-”
He paused as the raven’s eyes lit, followed by a gurgling chuckle. The Lir had punned without realizing it. It would be fun teaching them-“Apologies. We are at your service. What of the Humans?”
“Mrf. Krikon, you mentioned ‘fire,’ ‘cooking.’ These came from the Humans acquiring Knowledge?”
“Yes. Recall that their First ate of the fruit of the Tree. This subjected them to something we do not yet understand. Whatever that force is, it steeped them – all of them, in the same instant- in Knowledge. From this beginning they have begun to acquire many things which our flight was only able to touch upon briefly.
The Humans as you know are always naming things. Creating new words seems to be almost a game among them. When we first arrived among them we could scarcely understand what they were about- until we began to associate their words with their actions, or with those things which they have created-“
“Created! Yes!” Disanjer minced a bit closer to Krikon. “Humans acquired the power of Creation?”

The dragon’s question struck Krikon oddly, though he could not see why. “Not so much. They have acquired an… understanding, of all that is about them. That understanding appears to vary greatly. However they are not Creating so much as…. Erm, ‘creating’ by using that which already exists. They reshape it into new things. Clothing for example-”
“Clothing?”
“They cover their bodies with the hides of animals. Disanjer-” he raised a wing against the Lir’s next question, the Lir suddenly a bit closer, his mouth hanging open. “We have a great deal to relate to you. Please do not bite off more than you can chew-
Oh dear. Now I even have to explain my own choice of words-”

-------

Thule moved with slow intent, not seeking out anyone in particular as he approached the Southern Flight. Tight-lipped, eyes casting about, his expression and body language speaking for him: ‘come to me.’
His mien drew mixed reaction from the Southern Flight: dismissal, perplexed stares; some few mocked his movements. All what he expected from a group apparently hostile towards the Lir.
Some few of them still held enough curiosity of the Lir to come down and see what he was about.
Amintajinn was among them. Yes. They would do.

“Why do you wish to speak to us?” Amintajinn asked as they lit about him. “You are quite aware of our opinion of the Lir.”
“Am I?”
“Certainly.” While the others had held back, this one was bold enough to approach him closely. “We have discovered you on several occasions, close by the outpost Senjinn had positioned near your encampment. You are not as silent as you believe yourself to be.”
I’m so glad you think so, Thule thought to himself, knowing exactly how many times they had ‘discovered’ him- and how many more they had missed. “I shall strive to do better. But: If you are so intent on having nothing to do with us, why take a station at an outpost which exposes you to us? Is not the Eastern Flight better suited for gathering information?”
That ruffled Amintajinn’s feathers. “They may have the outpost soon enough. It is our intention to move south regardless of the arguments of Krikonjinn, A’Cojinn or the First.”
“It will do you no good.”
“What?”

Thule reached up his back with his tail-tip, seeking out the woven-vine satchel attached to the harness he wore. Musing as he did so:
He had spent many days rooting about the forest floor. Ripping into fallen trees, long rotten; digging into the ground where he had spied disturbances, to find insects which had dropped into hibernation. Studying the gnawed bones of long-dead animals… but especially watching closely the dissolution of the horse which Kavus had slain upon that day-
Snagging the satchel he transferred it to his hand-paw, swung it deliberately before the lead raven- then with a flourish overturned it, dumping a horse skull full in the bird’s face.
Amintajinn bounced back, the skull seemingly mimicking her movement as it bounced after her. Thule felt as much as saw the anger emanating from the Logos all about him-
“There is no future. Especially if you remain here.”

-------

Disanjer’s world whirled about him. Literally, for the crowd of Logos who had descended upon him had seemingly become restless and now flew in a tight circle about him.
But he was focused. “The Humans have all gone east?”
“No. We have found them moving in all directions, even signs that they have tried to go over the Western Wall. But there, so far as we know, they always turn back.”
“They will not go over the Wall?”
“We cannot go over the Wall. We cannot even reach the top. No matter how hard we try, the slope continues to rise above us. Therefore the Humans cannot, either.”
There was something wrong with that idea but… later! “What numbers? How many went south, how many east-“
“Disanjer! We have made two Flights since Exile began. We need substantially more time and as you can see time has become pressing,” Krikon said, shaking a light dusting of snow off his body. “We can only think that perhaps we saw more moving east. We had more Flights in the air that way; each saw large numbers of Humans. If I had to guess I would say thousands-“
“What’s ‘thousands’?” He’d heard the term earlier in the numbers of the Logos, but it had not quite made sense.

Krikon sighed. “Later! What else?”
“They seemed hostile towards you.”
“Ah! Yes. We cannot say what their reasoning was, but several of our own were injured in attempting to approach them for purpose of communication.” Krikon glanced up into the tree above. “Some few believe that they were being actively hunted.”
“Hunted?” Disanjer’s eyes grew round. “For food?”
“There are a great many humans. The animals upon which both you and they prey are hard to find. And they are slowly becoming subject to this weather, also. We think this partially explains their anger.”
Disanjer slumped back. “No doubt.” Large numbers of people, dropped upon a world which, to some, appeared to be dying-
A shudder ran the length of his body, worked its way visibly up his tail. Then: “You call this gathering a ‘conclave.’ Is that a Human word?”
“Yes?”
“And you picked up this and other words in the two days which you spent in the presence of Humans? So you did join in conversation with some of them.”
“Yes. Ahhhh. Maybe?”
Disanjer’s mind was racing down multiple lines of thought. “In two days. Except, it wasn’t two days… was it?” he looked up at Krikon. “You kept careful track. It took ten days. But eleven days and a bit passed here-“

-------

It was clearly getting noisier and Kavus said so. A’Cojinn looked about; birds were flitting between the two main camps and the conversations sounded ugly. “This is not how it was supposed to go,” he said. “Our First were supposed to maintain control-”
A quick glance at the huddled First and Thinkers. “Without them paying attention… Kavus, how does it go for you? Is it so hard to stay on top of your people?”
The dragon’s head swung back and forth as he followed one particular group of Logos. He was uncertain but they’d seem to have broken off from the crowd which had surrounded Thule- “I- don’t know. I try to keep watch over everyone, Ssyan helps, Satho helps… sometimes there are arguments?
But we’re so busy! We must always have someone out there to keep track of the horses. Right now, constantly having to break the ice on the river so that we might have water, keep ourselves clean-“
“Yes. We have noticed that the quality of your droppings has changed since you began eating meat.”
Kavus’ eyes closed tight for a moment, then popped wide open in bewilderment. “Uff! Remind me to describe to you in detail just what I think of your approach on some topics. There is something missing in you manners.”
A’Co’s turn to look puzzled. Then he shrugged and moved on. “And then there’s the issue of your people attempting to mate with other animals-“
“DO you ever stay on-topic?” Kavus said, exasperated and not a little uncomfortable with the subject. Several of the Lir besides himself had reported they had experienced the bizarre desire to mate with those animals whose forms they were wearing at the time. Kavus had a feeling more were keeping it to themselves out of guilt. He just hoped desire was all that came of it-

A’Co watched the silent dragon for a few moments. He seemed on edge. “We’re tired all the time,” Kavus said. “Shifting forms… it takes something more than it used to in Eden, you know? And we’re hungry all the time and not even certain there are enough animals-”
And something is wrong with Thule, Kavus thought, looking across the clearing. The dragon was almost out of sight, still talking to that group.
A’Co followed his gaze. “What is it?”
“Don’t know,” Kavus climbed to his feet. “We decided right at the beginning that we needed each to know what the other was doing. Disanjer followed the rule. Thule-“
He trotted towards the small gathering, A’Co in tow.

-------

Disanjer’s attention was caught between Krikon and the increasing noise level between the two major camps overhead. The First of the Logos appeared to be ignoring it, deep in their huddle with the Thinkers.
He tried to focus. “Krikon, we are going nowhere. Everything either of us brings up, only serves to bring up more questions. And I really want to Know, but you seem to have so little to offer-“
Krikon’s beak clacked closed. Then: “We need more time! We need more time, and this, whatever this weather is-” he waved a wing- “We don’t dare try again until we understand what is bearing down upon us!”
Disanjer was a bit taken aback. “I meant no offense-“
“I know you did not. But, look at this.” He flared his wings to encompass the entire camp. “We like you. We want to stay. They want to go. We’re trying to move on little to no information. Nothing like this ever happened in Eden! It was peace, and quiet, and plenty-“
“And we threw it away,” Disanjer’s head fell.

Krikon regarded him for a moment. “I won’t say things haven’t been a great deal more… Interesting, since then.”
The dragon looked askance at Krikon. “Lir and Logos never spoke much to each other in Eden. Did we even play together? I miss-“
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING!”
Kavus’ voice- holding a tone no Lir had ever heard before. “I think we have a problem,” Krikon said.
“Which one would that be?” Disanjer said sarcastically.

-------

An odd shiver had passed down Thule’s spine as the skull bounced after the raven.
And a moment of satisfaction as Amintajinn ogled it at close range, suddenly silent.
Another raven spoke up. “How can there be no future? Time has only just begun.”
“Time has begun, but shall we continue?” Thule’s eyes were steely. “Look at us. He made changes to us. Changes to somehow ‘suit’ us for this world.
And yet what happens when we arrive? We find little here. We are starving; we know not what to do. You find your way easily but look! Your food has vanished.”
“We can eat meat, too!” one of those about him protested. “And you Lir have offered it to us from time to time-“
“What? You want nothing to do with us but what?” Thule paced back and forth among the Logos encircling him. “Yes we offer but look! Our food is always moving. We cannot count upon it to be there! We don’t know how long it will last- can you say how long this weather will last? What if it never ends?”
He towered over them, fur frizzing up. Several of the Logos shrank back. “We are always hungry. We don’t know if we have enough! So we hunt sparingly. And you expect us to share with you?”

“As you said, we want nothing to do with you,” one of them responded. “We shall fly south-“
“South!” Thule’s voice rose, then dropped again as he cast about, hoping Kavus had not heard him. “What is south? Will things be better there? Why would you think so? Or is this, too, this need, something which God designed into you?”
Amintajinn finally spoke up. “We don’t-”
“No, you don’t!”
The force of his exclamation drove them all back save Amintajinn who’s bearing suggested anger. Several flew away, having had enough. The rest gathered themselves together, turning their backs upon him.

“Oh we are not done,” Thule snarled under his breath. Two steps brought him to the skull; walking on his hind legs Thule pursued the ravens with it.
“Look at this!” he cried, flourishing the skull. “This is how we began our life here.”
The image of Kavus’ blood-smeared face, his friend hovering over the corpse of the horse, floated in Thule’s mind. He saw it nightly in his dreams. ‘Here is our future,’ dream-Kavus would say-
Angry caws greeted him. “Leave us alone! We will go south. We will be away from-”
“Go south! I do not care!” He did care- but not for any reason they knew. “Just remember that your First are as much to blame for this situation as ours-“
“We were not there! We had no say in it!”
“Does that matter? You are here now. And you can Hope for Lir scraps, or you can fly south- and hope you find something that will save you!
Look at this skull.” He set it down before them, noting that some of them were staring intensely at it. “This was the horse we ate that day. Kavus described it to me again and again-” Rather, Thule had repeatedly demanded it of his friend- “And she was an innocent! Just like us! And she was interested in him and he ate her! And now, Death-“
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING!”

Thule’s fur bottled up at the shout coming right at his back. Before he could turn Kavus shoved past him to scoop up the skull, the ravens fleeing before him.
All save Amintajinn, frozen in shock at Kavus’ shout.          
Kavus stared at the skull in astonishment. The shape of the horse’s head was permanently impressed upon his mind. The look on her face... The horse, that horse! It’s skull! In his hand!
Shame and guilt flooded him, the dragon seeming to deflate before those gathered about. He had saved his Lir, brought them to their senses, but had to kill to do so! It wasn’t fair-
Anger, pain washed away guilt as the strains and stresses of past days overwhelmed him. This wasn’t fair!
Kavus looked up at his friend, tears rimming his eyes. “Why? How could you do this to me? What are you even thinking?
You know how much it hurt me to kill her! How bad I felt even as I ate her flesh?
How much it hurts me that you would carry this around with you!”
Kavus lifted himself fully upright on his hind legs, the skull held high overhead in his paw-hand-
Thule reached out too late as Kavus slammed it down with all his might, the skull shattering with the force of impact.
Seeing the skull destroyed hurt. And it hurt even worse than his best friend committing murder upon the horse, tears exploding as he dropped to all fours to poke ineffectually at the fragments “My toy! You broke my toy!”
“Your toy?” Kavus was outright crying also, scarcely noticing as Disanjer slid to a halt next to him.  Logos dropped about them in increasing numbers, seeing a sight absolutely unknown to Lir or Logos.  “A skull? Is a toy? You would play with a skull?
I told you I didn’t like it! I asked you to get rid of it! And you hung onto it! For what? To hurt me?”
“You are my best friend,” Thule returned. “How could you? All I wanted to do was play-“
“WE ARE NOT CHILDREN ANYMORE!” Kavus screamed.

Upon that note Amintajinn nodded to herself, ascending into her Flight’s tree.
Kavus had more to say, a lot more, as all the frustrations and worries since their arrival sought to pour out of him.
But a quiet voice stilled him. “Yes. Yes, we are children.”

The three dragons turned at that to discover that the First of the Logos and their Thinkers had joined the throng. It was Ourajin who had spoken; Senjinn held back a step, cringing; their Thinkers could only look away as she continued to speak.
“We arrived here, and there were so many new things,” Oura continued, her voice subdued. “Our lives were new, your lives were new. There were so many new things to see! So much to learn.
And we thought we understood. And we hoped to- no, we were going to be your teachers. We were going to show you the world. It looked so easy! All one must do is observe, and think-
Then this day came, and you brought your questions, and we were all set to impress you.
And we know Nothing.

Oh, we know all kinds of words! ‘Fire’ and ‘cooking’ and ‘clothing’ and all the words you and we use every day.
But we don’t have the first clue where we even got these words. And we know ‘fire’ but we don’t know what it is or how it works or even how to make it and what else is it good for? And what good is it to us who have no hands?
And we realize now that the Humans looked upon us in anger because we weren’t really communicating with them, we weren’t trying to understand. We’re just children, pestering them, playing at knowing big words.
Acting like we knew what we were doing.

We think we know. But we don’t have Knowledge, like the Humans have. We have no experience, no point of reference- we know some of you want a way to measure distances! You want to know how time could be wrong! A better way to keep track of the days! We-”
A burst of sound silenced her, the Southern Flight abruptly exploding en-masse from the trees their side occupied. As if the dragons beneath them were some sort of barrier the Flight turned back as one, rising up over the rim of the box canyon. Heading south.
Lir and Logos looked on in disbelief as their world was shaken by yet another loss. Many in the Eastern Flight leapt into flight as though to pursue, turning this way and that in confusion as others called them back; some few finally sped after the Southern Flight, seeking some hope of bringing them back.

Aghast, Kavus turned to his friend- only to see Thule wearing an expression of satisfaction. “This- you did this? What have you done?”
His eyes focused upon the departing Logos, Thule only said “I have ended their indecision.”
Kavus’ eyes teared up once again as Thule turned away from him, the dragon inclining his head as though listening to something. And then Kavus himself could hear it: Ourajin, speaking ever so quietly, a fresh, deep sadness in her voice.

“And we squabble like little children over a slight which was no one’s fault. Angry, and hurt, unwilling to listen, unwilling to grow.
We don’t know what is expected of us.
What we must learn.
What any of us are even here for.”
She looked directly at Kavus.
“And you wanted to know why you didn’t know how to hunt. And there’s your answer, for children must Learn. And it is the parent’s duty to teach them. But what was the need in Eden? We had all we wanted. There was no need to know such things.
But even we who are parents were no more than children in Eden. We had no need to learn, no need to teach. We only had to live, and play, and love each other.” She was looking directly at Kavus and Thule.
“We wanted to be your teachers,” Oura faltered. “And all we are is little children, playing at knowing what we are doing.”

Silence enveloped all- for all knew it to be the truth.

Almost everyone.

“I still need to know what ‘thousands’ means.”
“Disanjer, no,” Kavus said, wiping away tears.
“And I want to know why no one can climb the Western Wall,” Disanjer continued. “And I am tired of measuring things in ‘humans’ – that was your idea, come to think of it,” He said, looking at Ourajinn.
She looked vaguely offended but he would give her no chance to speak. “And I am the ‘memory’ of the Lir,” Disanjer said, “And how am I supposed to keep track of things? 52 days and I can’t even recall the first three and I’m beginning to get mixed up on who did what on which day-”
Kavus’ eyes were opening wider and wider; his breath was catching in his throat. Thule could only stare.
“So we don’t have knowledge like the Humans do. But we are gaining experience, and isn’t that what knowledge is based upon? God said we would all become equals- well, how do we get there?”
Kavus brushed a hand down his friend’s shoulder. “I want you to be First.” He had come to realize he hated holding the position.
Disanjer burst into laughter, snatching at Kavus and hugging him tight to himself. Thule turned away.
He took his friend’s face in his hand-paws, the two snout to snout as he looked him in the eyes. “No. I have too many questions I need answered first.”
Kavus sighed, pulling back. “Thanks, I love my job.” He looked to the First of the Logos. “And we need our teachers.”

Every Logos in the glade was staring at them. Kavus was curiously comfortable with it now.
“You… would have us?” Senjinn asked.
Kavus shook his whole body, settled down on all fours, and came to a decision. “I would have you in our camp.”
He smiled to himself as a physical reaction ran through the Logos. It became apparent at that instant that it was possible for a Lir to read Logos body language. And didn’t that teach him something? “Well? We came here to let you talk and you have nothing to say?
You chose a good camp for yourselves, it is better-protected from the winds than ours. But we can secure food for you. And perhaps, with your qualifying and quantifying, you could help us figure out how to better stave off the winds.
And we’re just as curious as you are- well, Dis is certainly curious,” He gave his friend a sidelong glance. “We’re children? We need to be taught? Then why don’t we be each other’s parents for a time?”

He could see the calculating look rising in the eyes of the First, even as the background grumble of conversation began to rise in volume about them.
“You would have us?” Ourajin this time.
“No one listens to me,” Kavus smirked. “Yes. As soon as you can come.”
Upon that statement hundreds of loud conversations broke out across the glade. Senjinn did his best to talk above the racket “It may take a bit to get things together-“
“What? You have trees,” Kavus countered.
“Oh. Yes.”
All three First looked about. “I fear this argument will run for some time,” Oura stated.
“Don’t give them the lead, then,” Kavus offered. “Move! Bring yourselves to our camp. They will either come to us, or go join the Southern Flight.”
“That is harsh.”
“That is-“

“I HAVE A QUESTION FOR OUR TEACHERS!”
Ravens scattered as Kavus and Disanjer bucked sideways, startled.
Thule stood to his full height on his hind legs, looking over the crowd. “I want to know,” He opened. “I want our teachers to point out to me where the Tree hangs in the sky.”
For long moments no one responded. Then, hesitantly, wings were raised here and there, all pointing to the same place in the sky. More wings raised as Thule looked about.
“And that is where it hangs now?”
A few scattered words of assent came back to him. Most looked on, confused.
“And so it does,” Thule said, looking up into the sky. Many eyes followed his. “Look carefully, and you shall see the point of brilliant blue which is Eden, hanging in the branches of the Tree,” Thule said.
And as more eyes rose to the skies he asked “And where does the Tree hang in the night sky?”
A lot of heads bobbed back and forth, looking from him to the sky. And then… wings rose.
And pointed to the exact same spot.
Thule leered. “And is this not strange to you? The Tree hangs in the day sky. The Tree hangs in the exact same place in the night sky!
How does that work?
When we lived in Eden I spent nights beyond count, watching the stars,” Thule said. “And we all knew then that those stars are suns like the one above us now.
And each night I watched, they moved. Ever so slightly, but they moved. And after many days, the same stars would appear in the same places once again.
The stars do not move here!”
He cast his sight across the Logos once more. “We called Eden ‘The World.’ And the stars moved. We may not know why but I do know this- This isn’t a world!
What is it?”
Silence.
“Answer that, my teachers. And then I’ll believe we can learn from you.”
Thule dropped to all fours and began to walk away.
“Thule!” Kavus came after him. “Where are you going?”
You broke my toy! “Home,” Thule said sullenly. Abruptly turning away, ignoring Kavus’ entreaties.
He would have gone after him if Disanjer had not pulled on his tail. “Kavus? I want to stay. If they will have me.”
Kavus held back reluctantly, eyes locked on his friend’s receding form. “Oura? Sen?”
“Yes. Yes, please!” both assented.
“Then I will be going. I would keep an eye on my friend.”

The First of the Logos seemed almost eager to send him on his way, watching until he was out of sight. They had other things on their minds.
“We are not good Firsts. This entire event was a disaster.”
“I learned a great deal,” Disanjer said at their side.
“We do not have control of our people.” Sen looked out to the south, wondering if they would ever see the Southern Flight again.
“Were we supposed to?”
“If only we knew more-“
Disanjer toward over them- more like a shield than a threat. “I think you learned a great deal about yourselves today.”
“There you have it,” Oura said, nudging her mate. “Listen to your student.”
“Wait, when did you become the optimist?
Hold that thought. Disanjer! Welcome! We have ‘thousands’ of questions for you.”
“I have nothing to say.”

-------

The journey home was quiet and lonely.
Kavus followed his friend’s footsteps in the snow. He wanted to catch up to him, to apologize. But the pain in both directions seemed to slow his footsteps; eventually he just trod along, his mind blank. It was the only way to stop hurting.
“I didn’t mean to,” he whispered. But he wasn’t sure if it were Thule or the horse he was apologizing to.

In due time the bend in the river which signalled home drifted into view. The dragon plodded along, noting the various landmarks as he went. Only a short time more until the camp itself came into sight-
Walking head bowed he almost ran into the figure standing in the snow before him. Startled Kavus looked up, just as Satho reached out to take him by the chin. “Talk to me,” she soothed. “Tell me what happened.”
Kavus smiled wanly. “Yes. I’d like that.”

-------

Nunejinn arrived in the camp of Magus and Pyth shortly after dark, grousing as she did so about the length of the flight, much longer now that the Logos camp was farther east.
The two had waited upon her return eagerly- and as Nune filled them in they were not disappointed. “Today was… a calamity,” she finished. “But Kavus did exactly as you hoped.”
Both dragons let out a mutual sigh of relief. “He’s on the right track,” Pyth said.
“I’m surprised he did not ask after us,” Magus replied.
“I’m sure he wanted to,” Nune answered. “But not to worry. Disanjer did after Kavus left. He will know, soon enough.” The raven looked from one dragon to the other. “Not that he will be pleased about it.”

Magus set aside the thought. “Nune. We will continue up here. But, we want more of you to come by. There will be a great deal of… information, to pass along.”
Nune dipped her body in assent. “Of course. And I know one who will be pleased to help right away.”
She chirped happily. “A’Cojinn. I think you will like him.”