Chapter Text
Strange things often occur around strange people - at least, that’s how the other tribesfolk of Natlan liked to explain the peculiar happenings that always seemed to manifest in the vicinity of the Masters of the Night-Wind. Given that Ororon was considered an oddity even among the Mictlan people, it didn’t really come as much of a surprise that he found himself striding into the middle of a battlefield with a basket of vegetables in his arms.
“Hello, there,” he called out, and half a dozen malicious gazes shot his way. “Can I offer you some delicious Grainfruit in this trying time?”
Coming across an injured Iktomisaurus on his way to share the morning’s harvest with his tribe was perhaps the first indication that Ororon was bound for trouble that day. The Saurian was curled up on its side in the grasses along the road, a trickle of blood painting thin lines down its wing. As Ororon approached, it did not move, but its large eyes glistened with pain and fear.
“Don’t worry, friend,” Ororon said gently. “I just want to help.”
He wasn’t nearly as skilled as Ifa, but it didn’t take an expert veterinarian to see the broken arrowhead embedded in the Iktomisaurus’s wing. Carefully, Ororon removed the object from the wing’s soft membrane. The wound would close quickly now, but the Saurian still seemed distressed. It stared off down the road and gave a quiet, lamenting cry.
“Something over there?” Ororon squinted, just barely able to make out sporadic flashes of purple light in the distance. “Alright, I’ll go check it out. You rest here, okay?” He picked up his basket of vegetables (always better to be prepared, and he found that vegetables tended to come in handy more often than not) and set off.
It wasn’t long before Ororon caught the scents of ozone and burnt grass on the wind, tinged with the faint ring of clashing metal.
A battle, he realized. And it looks like someone is wielding Electro Energy. Let’s see… The first rule of Granny’s “Guide on How Not to Be an Idiot During Combat” is to gather as much information as possible.
Drawing on his Vision’s power, he summoned a Supersonic Oculus. It cast forth a high-frequency sound wave, and with some concentration, the wave would travel far and echo back whispers of information. Ororon closed his eyes and focused, letting the sound vibrations catch in his ears and sketch the general details in his mind.
Six people? No - seven, and… a small Saurian. They’re gathered near the bottom of the cliff.
Not much to go off of, but it would have to do.
Alright. Rule number two: approach with caution.
He traveled as quickly as he could while keeping a low profile. By the time he peered around a cluster of boulders under the cliff that was within visual range of the battlefield, the sounds of combat and hints of Electro Energy had died away.
The cliff face and the ground beneath it were littered with gashed earth and scorch marks. A Huitztlan tribal warrior stood off to the side, struggling to hold a net with a desperately squirming Iktomisaur Whelp inside. Four other warriors from different tribes - all in various states of injury - stood around a hulking Tepetlisaurus Warrior, who was kneeling over a teenage boy, face-down in the dirt. The boy had a mane of long, silver hair and wore unfamiliar clothes, and his ruby eyes were filled with unbridled rage.
The Tepetlisaurus Warrior’s smirk was cold and dripping with gleeful venom as he wrapped one massive hand around the back of the boy’s head, the other engulfing his wrist and pinning it behind his back. The boy bared his teeth and thrashed under the weight, but his movements were too sluggish and feeble to even be an inconvenience to the Warrior.
“Just give up, kid,” he sneered. “You oughta realize you’ve been beat.”
“No!” the boy yelled, his words ripping from his chest like a furious howl. “They are dragon lupical. You can’t take!”
“Listen, you brat.” The Warrior pressed the boy’s face into the dirt and leaned down close to his ear. “I don’t know what you’re going on about, but that Saurian is our prize. We spent too long tracking it down for some outlander punk to butt in because he wants to be a hero.”
Saurian poachers. Disdain simmered in the back of Ororon’s mind. I need to do something. But… my Vision’s attacks aren’t targeted enough to take out all of the hunters without hurting that kid or the Iktomisaur Whelp in the process. Ororon shook his head. No – there isn’t much time to think! I don’t like it, but I’ll just improvise for now!
He could already hear Citlali berating him about what a reckless moron he was to go charging into a group of hostiles with barely half a plan, but he had already made up his mind.
Granny is going to kill me if she ever finds out…
This was how Ororon found himself in his current situation, stared down by several angry hunters (and one baffled teenager), who were most definitely not in the mood for vegetables.
There was a long, confused silence, and then the Tepetlisaurus Warrior let out a vicious bark of a laugh. “Are you blind, or are you just stupid?” he sneered.
“I can see fine, but I appreciate your concern,” replied Ororon. “Also, I don’t think there’s anything stupid about looking for fellow vegetable enthusiasts out on the road.”
“Did someone let all the idiots out today just to mess with me?” the Warrior muttered. “No one wants your worthless vegetables. Now get outta here, before I lose my patience.”
Ororon mustered all of his stubborn insistence. “But these veggies were harvested just this morning. There’s nothing like freshly picked radishes and carrots after a fight, wouldn’t you say–”
“I’VE HAD ENOUGH OF YOU!” The Warrior released the boy and charged forward, muscles tense and screaming for violence.
Great! I’ve lured the big guy away.
Ororon was, however, now met with a new problem.
The Tepetlisaurus Warrior was much faster than Ororon had anticipated, and before he could discard his vegetables and summon his bow, the enraged man had closed the distance and was preparing to swing his giant saw.
Ororon’s brain scrambled for a counter, his own panicked eyes staring back at him in the reflection of the Warrior’s blade. If I jump, maybe I can -
The air exploded with thunder then, and the space in front of Ororon was sundered in a brilliant burst of violet lightning.