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DRAKELAND

1.)The Way Of Things

Drakes Landing. A port town on the coast of Grassy Spire, one of the many islands winding around the planet of Baradoon. I've lived in this town my entire life, and despite leaving it several times for family outings, I've always been happy to return. Apparently it was the first outpost created on the island after my ancestors arrived here, centuries before now. Hence the name, I suppose.

Like many, I hold many names. There's the name of my tribe, or country if you prefer more modern designations. Then you have my family name of course, and finally my personal name. Add it all together, and you have Delladunn Jadewing of the Greenscale tribe. But please, just call me Del. It rolls off the tongue much better. Thanks to recent events, many of us were asked to write down our experiences or have them dictated if required. I've been keeping a personal journal for a few years now, so I might as well contribute to the pool of information.

The incident happened late in the morning, not long after many were likely having a second breakfast. I remember enjoying a plate of sweet fruit and candied meats, with a strong mug of tea. It was all quite excellent, sourced from a number of local vendors that had recently received deliveries of the wonderful food and drink during one of the many trade ship arrivals. The meat had been rubbed just so with a reduction of fruit juices, lightly salted, and dried to perfection. And the tea! I could go on about the blend for a while, so flavourful it was... but I'm rambling, and drifting off topic.

I was manning the counter of the family money-changing house when cries of alarm began to echo outside. Curious, and naturally concerned for my fellows, I sat the dregs of my meal down next to various working implements, and swung around the counter to head outside. Many fellow Drakes were jogging or flying downhill, as the mood suited them, towards the port. I saw Jith amongst the crowd, his bulging light green underbelly wobbling around as he flapped overhead, muscles standing out all over as his body worked to keep so much weight in the air. We locked eyes and he waved with a smile, before we lost sight of one another amongst the buildings. There were too many full figured Drakes milling about to spread my wings and take to the air, else I would have joined him. Perhaps it was good that I didn't have the chance.

Hundreds of claw-tipped feet clattered along the stone walkways as we finally came within range of the port, to see what the fuss was about. A great ship was burning, throwing out thick and dark smoke into the air. The smell hit us all first, and you could almost hear everyone's nostrils slamming shut from the noxious odour of burning coal. Many began to cough and gag, and a good chunk of the population broke off and headed upwind as fast as they could. The smoke was foul and tended to make people sneeze, plus long term exposure was considered harmful. The wood and iron clad ship was definitely of modern design, and likely burned the horrible yet energy dense fuel for motive power. Nobody liked it, but it was faster and more predictable than sailing.

Still, there was obviously troubles with carrying large stockpiles of the stuff aboard the ships, especially if those ships were carrying any other supplies that could burn. I didn't dare get any closer to the flaming ship, and could see distant shapes jumping into the water to get away from the burning vessel, while others were waving orange coloured warning batons to try and clear citizens from the general area. The fire department was busy flapping their way around the ship, dropping large buckets of sea water onto the flames, hoping to contain it before things got any worse.

It looked like citizen volunteers were not needed or wanted at the time, so I returned home as swiftly as I could, coughing slightly as the noxious smoke blew into town. At the time, I wasn't sure where most of my family had gotten off to, but figured some were either resting in the warrens below, or were out on errands. Like many large families within the tribe, we had more than a few businesses and properties to take care of. With there being nothing to do about the fire at the port, I made sure the surface vents and windows were closed, and went back to my counter and plate of food.

I felt the blast more than I heard it. One moment I was reaching for a remaining scrap of succulent candied meat, the next everything went white. For the briefest of instants it was impossibly bright outside, then a wave of force blew the building down. I was hit with debris as the dock-facing walls exploded inwards, and was sent flying behind the counter and into a pile of rubble. The rest of the building came down atop the little nook created by my counter and the back wall, and that's probably the only reason I'm still alive. Rather than being crushed under falling debris, and the flaming roof, I was burred alive instead.

I don't remember much of the ordeal, only the initial explosion and a few fleeting moments of panic from within the rubble. I hurt all over, and knew I was wounded to say the least. I also couldn't move, and barely had enough air to breathe. All I could do was slip in and out of consciousness, after the heat of the flames above had died down. I remember seeing the face of a rescue worker at some point or another, as they started clearing debris and looking for survivors. Scales so covered in ash and grime, that the fellow looked like one of the Grey's from up north.

It was days later when I woke up next, groaning with pain and blinking my eyes open bit by bit. A field medic was hovering over me as I came to, and helped me sit up somewhat in bed. Looking around, I recall taking a moment to process just what I was seeing. It appeared to be a field hospital, like what you might expect to see in the aftermath of a war zone. Dozens of medical staff were buzzing about, checking on various individuals in other beds, or administering additional care. Looking down at myself, I noticed that my normally chubby frame was quite a lot more slim than I remembered. I also realized I was ever so hungry. As if on queue, my stomach rumbled, and my attending medic handed me a bowl of stew to drink.

"Careful with this, and don't go too fast. You've been asleep for days, and were buried for several more. No doubt you're half starved."

I tried to reach out with my left hand to accept the bowl, only to find that nothing happened. Looking a little shocked and concerned, the medic cursed under her breath and leaned over me to place the bowl into my right hand, which was fortunately still there. Taking a sip of the warm stew, I glanced to my left and confirmed that I was missing an arm. There was nothing there but a stump near the shoulder, but it appeared to have already smoothed over, and was starting to bud a new limb. Disconcerting for sure, and very inconvenient, but it would heal in a few weeks provided there were no other serious injuries. More sips of the stew proved to be very relaxing and just what I needed, and I almost felt like going back to bed. I felt so very weak, and sore all over. I returned the empty bowl to the sheepish looking medic, who seemed a tad embarrassed over trying to hand me food on a side that was shy a limb.

Clearing my throat, I felt I needed to at least thank her for her help.

"Thank you for the meal. And no need to hang your head in shame. No harm done, really. Where am I? And what happened?"

The medic, whom was apparently recruit Jasper according to her uniform, took the bowl and set it aside, and helped prop my head up with a spare pillow. She waved another individual over with a spare hand, even as she began to answer some of my questions.

"You were in an explosion, and have been seriously injured. So far you're stable however, so no cause for alarm. We dug you out of the rubble of what I assume was your shop, as well as a few others nearby. This is a field hospital the military set up just down the beach from Drakes Landing... I'm sorry to say the town is gone. It was completely flattened in the blast, and burned to ash."

She must have felt that she told me too much too quick, as she patted my good hand for a few moments in silence, then got up and left to check on other patients. A full figured fellow sauntered up to my bed shortly after, reaching out check my pulse and other doctor like duties. Content that his poking and prodding wasn't making anything worse, he pulled up a chair and sat himself down facing me, leaning forward to look me in the eyes.

"Good to see you're awake, citizen. I caught some of what recruit Jasper was telling you, so you've obviously got the gist of the situation. I'm the senior field medic of this particular medical detachment, and you can call me Doctor Jaxton, or just Jax, or even just Doctor. I'm not picky. I have some tough things to talk to you about, so please stop me if you need a moment to process, OK?"

I nodded slowly, already feeling the beginnings of tears forming merely knowing that my town was gone, and no doubt many had lost their lives. The ship I had seen burning in the harbour was not only full of coal, but it was also full of chemical fertilizers destined for farms all around town. The fire had set off the chemicals, and had also ignited a warehouse that contained mining explosives. The resulting explosion was seen and felt on other islands, and our own military had been dispatched to render aid. Current estimates indicated that everyone left on the ship had died, as had everyone anywhere near the port. The blast itself and the fire storm that followed ruined the town, and countless others lost their lives. All told, over half the population had been killed, and those that survived had suffered various injuries.

The layout of our town was credited with the relatively high survival rate, considering the whole town was destroyed. Like many others around the world, we built our homes with a single surface level for business or receiving guests, and everything else was located underground. Moreover, most of the underground warrens connected to underground passages, that allowed families and neighbours to easily interact even when the weather above was unpleasant. Most of the warrens had survived, and even though the remaining population was buried under rubble, they were able to move around and access stored supplies, to feed themselves and tend to the injured. I was one of the few survivors found on the surface, and it was pure luck that the rubble had fallen in such a way to shelter most of my body, instead of crushing it. Still, I had suffered quite a lot of harm along the way.

As the doctor spoke, he removed the blanket covering my lower torso, and revealed that both my legs were gone above the knee. Looking into a mirror he held up, I learned that both my wings were gone too, and half my tail. I was quite the sight, that much was certain. Everything was bandaged flesh and seeping wounds, plus stained and scarred hide over what was left of me.

The good doctor explained that I was currently very medicated, and there had been more medication in the stew I'd eaten. It was obviously good stuff, as I didn't feel a thing. I hadn't even realized anything was missing, until I'd seen the stumps for myself. Still, much like my arm, everything seemed to be scabbing over, and getting ready to heal. I'd learned during my years of education that the regeneration process was slowed if you lost too many limbs at once, and could even get messed up if they were all gone, or if it happened too often in your life. Still, this was the first time I'd had any amputations, and they were all performed by trained professionals above any crush injuries or burns, so there ideally shouldn't be any complications from improperly healed flesh.

Regenerating a crushed or burned limb rarely worked out well, so standard practice was to cut it all off above the injury, to give the body a fresh start. This tended to have a success rate in the high 90's, which was good enough for me. I'll say this much, it certainly felt odd to be equipped with only one arm, and nothing else. I'd likely need help getting dressed for a while. The doctor and I talked for a while longer, and he made sure I understood what had happened to me, and what his medical detachment was going to do about it all. Once I was deemed safe for transfer, I was going to be moved to a proper hospital a few islands over, in our capitol city. Until then, I was to rest, eat well, and sleep as much as I could. The more energy my body had for healing, the better.

I was given another bowl of stew to contend with before long, and eventually was allowed to flop face down on the cot I was currently occupying, and pass out. I always preferred laying on my own belly, and in this case it was softer than the bed despite malnourishment. Days passed in a blur of naps, checkups, easy to eat meals, and the odd visit from medical staff and government workers. I received teary eyed notices of death from surviving family members, as the odd cousin trickled in to let me know my elders had died in the blast. I'd lost my siblings too, minus an older sister who lived in the capitol with her own family. I lost a lot of blood relations, but at least I had Tribe. There were many more Greenscales left in our island chain, and we looked out for one another. Same as any good nation.

One of the many government workers roaming through the camp provided me this journal I'm writing in, and asked that I jot down what I could about the event. They were apparently gathering witness testimony from survivors of the blast, as there was a legal battle brewing in the high courts. It appeared to be quite the legal case indeed, as journals were being handed out to everyone in the medical tent, including some of the staff. Our journals were to be collected as we were transferred to the capitol, and sifted through for legal ammunition. That was fine with me, as something had gone terribly wrong on the day of the blast, and we had a duty to make sure it didn't happen again to some other town.

Transport waggons had arrived to help move the wounded once they were safe for travel, and they were the sort the military used for their medical division. Not the most glamourous of rides for most, but they had padded cots and plenty of insulation in the walls, to keep out the weather. One wouldn't want their wounded soldiers to die of exposure on their way to a hospital, now would they? Survivors who were in better shape were given the option of flying if they wanted, though it was several days worth of flying to get to the capitol. It was several islands to the east, after all. Still, if you had the fortitude for it, and didn't mind stopping in towns along the way for food and rest, it was much faster than taking the waggons. The waggons however could take dozens of drakes and cargo all at once, so it evened out.

Each one was pulled by a tamed Grax, or occasionally two of the big beasts should the waggon be large enough. The six legged reptiles were handy to have around on the farm, or on the road as the case may be. Plus they were quite tasty, when properly cooked of course. My left arm was about halfway regenerated within a week of waking up in the hospital, and I was taken out into the ruins of the town to pay my respects to the dead. There wasn't much to say that hadn't already been said, and the ruins had already been combed over for any valuables to return to rightful owners, or reclaimed by the tribe as need be. It was quite upsetting, sitting there in a rolling chair at the edge of the debris field, all blackened by fire and smashed by concussive forces. What was left of the town council had decided to abandon Drakes Landing, as the land wasn't fit to live on anymore. It would take time for everything to heal, and perhaps a new town would spring up some day.

My surviving cousins had already left, and they never did find any sign of the friends I had in town. With nothing left for me in the ruins, I was packed into the back of a waggon with a small box of recovered coins and such from the money changing house, and sent on my way. The waggon driver whistled and nudged the Grax into gear, and off we went down the long road to the capitol. Overall, I'd say there are worse things than travelling by medical convoy. I had my own bed, I could move a wooden slat to see out to one side whenever I wanted, and I was relatively comfortable. My stumps itched like mad, and the attending medics kept making sure I was properly medicated so I wouldn't scratch, or feel much pain from the limb loss.

I hadn't been out to the bridge since it was built, but I do remember seeing it under construction when I was younger. It was a simple enough design, namely a large and relatively flat mass of stone and dirt spanning a shallow point between the two islands. The last time I'd been out this far, it had been on a family vacation by boat. We briefly stopped at a small harbour built for a series of farming communities, all along the large island of Windy Plains. The overwhelming majority of the island was farms, ranches, or other such enterprises tasked with food production. Many would come here, work for a few seasons, then move on to start fishing or go back to their family businesses. It was a good way to re-connect with nature.

As we were rolling through by waggon train, we weren't stopping at the harbour this time around. Instead we merely paused from time to time at one collection of farmhouses or another, and resupplied the convoy by purchasing goods from the farmers. I chipped in some of my coin to buy a fat roast from the locals, and was happy to dine with everyone by firelight. My family hadn't been rich by any stretch of the imagination, but we were certainly well off. Now that I'd nearly died, I felt justified in splurging on quality food. Besides, my doctor had told me to eat all I could, to regain my strength. At least for the moment, I'd regained my well filled middle. I received complements about it quite often, especially as the medics helped me in and out of the waggon. One of the cheeky fellows had even gotten in a feel under it all, to make sure I hadn't lost anything else in the blast. It was all there, that much was clear to us both.

I have to admit, I did feel a little guilty while mating with a few of the medical staff. Not for the act itself, of course, but because they had to do all the work. I was a big fat torso with one arm and sprouting limbs, I couldn't exactly put much effort into things. Still, I was able to receive my fellow males well enough, and even give back should they not mind riding the wounded. They weren't shy about things, that was for sure. The trip was made far more bearable by having somebody to bundle up with at night, and I mean to write a letter of thanks to the whole unit once I get to the capitol. Anyone who can tend to the physical, and emotional needs of their patients so thoroughly has a bright future in medicine.

The rest of the trip was much the same, all told. We'd travel during the day, stop during the night, and more often than not sleep in the waggons. Sometimes I had a few cuddly companions in my bunk, other times it was just one. Every day I was examined for limb regrowth, fed plenty, medicated, and occasionally given massage to help stimulate health. I had a full length tail again by the time we crossed another bridge onto Capitol Island, though half of it was a much lighter shade of green than the rest of me. It was new flesh, so it hadn't yet darkened from light exposure. That would take some time. The attending medics encouraged sun baths when I could move myself easier, to rebuild nutrients and help even out my colours. It was something to keep in mind for the coming weeks. It was nearing sundown when we pulled into the Capitol itself, and were quickly transferred out of the waggons and into a central hospital. The building looked quite new, as I looked up at it from a stretcher. Evidently there had been quite a lot of progress in our central city, by the looks of the tall structure and wonderful stonework.

I received goodbye snout-bumps from those I'd grown close to on the trip, and then they were off on their way while I was taken to a waiting room. There were a few dozen others there in similar condition, all waiting on roller beds to be directly attended to. I caught word that the local medical staff wanted to give us all a full checkup to make sure nothing was missed by the field medics, then get us assigned to appropriate parts of the hospital. It looked like there was going to be a bit of a wait, and with nothing much else to do, I laid back with my good arm under my head, and promptly fell asleep.

All I remember next was loud noises and fire. A nightmare of explosions and pain, wooden shrapnel piercing my hide, and pain filled moments of screaming as I was picked out of rubble, ruined limbs burning... It must have been one hell of a bad dream, as I woke up screaming and thrashing around. Several nurses were nearby tending to other injured drakes, and one of them was quick enough to catch me before I tumbled out of bed. The last few weeks must have been catching up with me, because I broke down in tears, clinging to the nurse with wracking sobs of grief and terror.

The nurse I was clutching to at the time at least had the bedside manner to keep a good grip on me, uttering gentile comforts in my ear and rubbing the back of my head. The other nurse meanwhile administered a strong sedative via careful injection, and sent me off to a dreamless void. I don't blame them for knocking me out at the time, it was likely the right call. There were dozens of blast survivors being unloaded and admitted, and tending to trauma in the waiting room was likely not the best of choices.

It took a few days of bed rest and gentile encouragement before I began keeping this journal again, as the doctors felt it might help me get my thoughts in order. I'll admit I was a mess, and certainly didn't expect the levels of grief and anguish I was going through. A number of doctors had been assigned to see to my recovery, and I'd even been given a nice little room overlooking a shopping plaza outside. I was much more used to sleeping in an underground room, but the doctors insisted I get some sun, so a bed by the window took care of that. One of my doctors was actually a therapist of sorts, specializing in helping people recover from trauma. She'd diagnosed me with post traumatic stress, something they mostly encountered with soldiers after wars or other major incidents. They felt a town exploding around you was about as close to a supremely traumatic incident as a citizen was likely to encounter, so the diagnosis fit the bill.

I spent my days getting plenty of rest, eating healthy meals, exercising regenerating limbs when possible, and talking to my therapist. They let me know well ahead of time that my treatment wouldn't be an overnight cure by any stretch of the imagination. It would take hard work, time, patience, and time with my doctor. I didn't have to worry about anything else while I was in their care, other than getting better. That was perfectly alright for me at the time. They must have known what they were doing, as they even encouraged the local chapter of personal companions to visit the hospital when they could, and provide comfort to those who needed it. Having a warm and cuddly companion in bed with you at night certainly works as a means to keep your mind from worrying about things, that's for sure.

I had been admitted to the hospital for a week when my left arm finished regrowing, much to my delight. I was given some small weights to start lifting to strengthen the new limb, as it was quite lanky compared to my right arm. It was nice to have something to do for an hour or so a day, while I was propped up in bed. With my legs still budding stumps, all I could really do was heave myself out into a rolling chair, and get pushed around the hospital from time to time. The local authorities must have been getting reports on our progress, because later that afternoon I got a visit from a clerk working for the Capitol law offices.

The fellow looked like he'd just recently had his hide buffed and scales polished, as he practically gleamed with green. He was wearing a rather fetching black vest with a red stripe, framing his moderately pudgy midsection rather effectively. He must have had a cunning tailor, as the red stripe continued onto his black trousers, going down both legs right to the ankles. As lovely as it all was, I was half tempted to tell him to save money on his wardrobe, and eat more. He was quite undersized compared to the average build I'd grown up with, but he seemed healthy enough. To each their own, I suppose. He paused at the doorway and gently tapped his claws against the wall to catch my attention, before coming in.

"Hello there Citizen. You're Delladunn, correct? I was wondering if I could have a moment of your time."

I had been lifting my weights at the time, so I set them to one side and gestured to a chair that was located nearby.

"Be my guest. And please, call me Del."

The fellow nodded and made himself comfortable, helping himself to a glass of water from a nearby pitcher.

"Don't mind if I do. And if we're dispensing with formalities, you can call me Jarreth. I won't keep you long, I just wanted to have a quick word with you about a few things. As I'm sure you heard by now, there is an official investigation going on about the explosion in Drake's Landing. I know it will likely be a difficult subject for you, injured as you are, but that's why I'm here."

I nodded, managing to keep things together even though unpleasant memories were still quite fresh in my mind, after losing my home and so many good people.

"Yes, I'd heard that things were in the courts after the blast. What can I do for you, Jarreth?"

The fellow green-scaled drake pointed a claw tipped finger at the journal I'd received back in the medical tents, and continued.

"Well for starters, I'm here to collect your journal. As I'm sure you were told back before leaving Grassy Spire, we wanted to collect personal experiences written down by those within the blast zone. I understand from your doctors you've been using the journal as part of your therapy, so don't worry, I've got a blank one with me to replace it. When we're done with the journal and make copies of relevant information, we'll return it to you. In addition, we were hoping you'd be willing to attend hearings when you're able, to give testimony as a witness to events."

I was quite relieved to know I'd have a replacement journal, and I'd get the old one back. I'd been pouring out my thoughts as part of my treatment, and I didn't want to lose anything. Who knows, it might come in useful someday. I was surprised to get the invitation to court, and a little curious at to what they'd want my testimony for. Seeing as I had an official sitting with me, it was as good a time as any to find out.

"I'll check with my doctors, but I'm sure I could be rolled in there. My legs haven't grown back yet, nor have my wings for that matter... I may not be able to stay long though. What help will I be? I just survived the explosion, I didn't do anything."

The vest-wearing fellow smiled and nodded, leaning back and getting comfortable.

"Don't worry about that. You'll be asked a bunch of questions about what you saw before the blast, and likely your opinions on a bunch of things. Did you know this isn't the first time one of those coal burning ships has gone up? We're not the only country with the technology. The blue's have had an accident with it, as have the reds. A land based power station up north in the Grey islands also went up in smoke not too long ago. This isn't just an investigation into the accident, it is the start of a greater evaluation into the future of energy usage in our island chain."

I'd had no idea there had been other accidents. It definitely sounded like there was a safety issue at play here. I know there had been public complaints in the past about the horrible smell from the coal smoke, plus the dangerous working conditions for those who mined the stuff. Apparently workers had to sign agreements saying they wouldn't go after their employers for damages after losing limbs, which was a high possibility in the mines. Brutal stuff, and it made me glad I wasn't a miner. Still, the horrible substance had left its own mark on me, so to speak. Not to mention all the mining supplies that had ultimately exploded.

Jarreth continued along, talking about how the port authority had already been assigned blame for storing explosives so close to the docks, and would be forced to begin building blast hardened underground structures to store hazardous substances in going forward. They were also paying out fines to the government, for eventual dispersal to affected citizens and their kin. The chemicals aboard the ship in question had been properly stored, and wouldn't have gone off if it weren't for the intense fire in the engine room. Coal dust in the air had ignited, and fire crews on the ship and around the port were unable to get it out before the blast happened. It was a perfect storm of mishap, but one that wouldn't have happened without the coal fire. No fines or punishments had been doled out to the crew of the ship, as they were all dead. However in the wake of it all, experts from all over were meeting in the Capitol Court to debate if this form of energy was safe, and if it needed regulation.

Even in my rather addled state, I could see that this could make for sweeping changes. There were coal powered factories being constructed here and there that could be forced to stop, or make radical alterations to their designs. And there were existing coal burning plants that would be forced to shut down and rebuild their steam engines, should the black rock be banned. No doubt fortunes would be made and lost over the coming years, depending on what happened. Personally I wouldn't miss the stuff, as it was not looking that safe. Plus the smoke was simply terrible, and made me sneeze. Who wanted clouds of that stuff wafting over their homes?

I agreed to attend the court sessions whenever possible, and surrendered my journal for examination. The new one was just as nice as the old one, and I planned to use it as much as possible to document my recovery and hopefully any interesting developments from the legal case. For that particular day in question however, I merely went back to lifting my weights, and wondered what they were serving for dinner. Hopefully it was fish stew again. I do so love fish stew...

* * *

The court battle had been ongoing even before I arrived at the Capitol, and was positively raging by the time I was wheeled in. I must have been a sight for the assembled tribal leaders, members of government, law practitioners, and assorted spectators. I still remember the looks on some of their faces, especially those of my tribe who had managed to come to support one of their own. While I had both arms now, one was definitely slimmer than the other, and pale in comparison. I'd opted not to wear a vest to further the point of my testimony, and so everyone could see the patchwork of scars all around my torso, and right arm.

The fact that I had a discoloured and partially scarred tail, and was still missing my wings and legs may have been too much for some in the stands, as I recall seeing a few sensitive souls faint in their seats. I gave myself a fright the last time I saw myself in a mirror, so I don't blame them. It was tradition for all to rise when the judges began the session, and I was promptly forgiven for not being able to stand. The eldest judge sat in between all the rest, 9 in total, forming the grand court of the Capitol. He was of another tribe, but they'd always been on good terms with my own. In this setting however, that didn't matter. All that mattered was getting to the bottom of things. The elder began to speak, and that landmark day began to unfold.

"Good morning everyone. We'll keep this mornings session brief, as several individuals bringing testimony before us need their rest, and should be in bed instead of a court room. Now then, Delladunn Jadewing, please tell us what you remember of the explosion."

I remember telling them everything I could, about the commotion outside, the burning ship, and the emergency crews desperately trying to put out the fire. I went on about people trying to go back to their homes, the immense blast, the pain, the burning, and waking up missing everything but an arm. I told them of devastation, of seeing most of your kin killed, my home flattened, friends dead or missing, and leaving everything behind. It wasn't an easy story to tell, and I feel that I only made it due to having so many people at my side helping me through it.

After a few moments to compose myself and allow murmuring in the huge courthouse to die down, I was asked about my recovery, and overall health. A few of the hospitals doctors were standing behind me to help field questions where needed, and they filled in the odd blank about my physical and mental state. I told the court about my gradual recovery, nightmares of the blast, and a general sense of unease from being cooped up most of the time. The doctors said I was suffering from severe emotional trauma, suffering from flashbacks and survivors guilt, but was otherwise healing well enough. Just slowly, due to the severe damage I suffered. Frankly they felt I was lucky to be alive in the first place, and still sane.

As the day became mid-morning, I was eventually asked by the elder judge to provide any personal opinions I might have into coal based energy production, in any form. I had to think about that one for a moment, especially as I'd only recently learned there had been more accidents of various sorts due to the flammable lump of black stone. Eventually I cleared my throat, did my best to sit up, and spoke my mind about things.

"Well your honour, I feel that it is dangerous. Perhaps too dangerous to use. Drake's Landing is not the only town to be severely damaged or destroyed due to an accident, and I've learned that there have been many land based accidents at factories and mines. Plus, I feel there is an overall health issue. I've always felt slightly short of breath when near the smoke emitted by a coal fire, and it makes me sneeze. Plus it doesn't smell very nice. The working conditions at the coal mines are unacceptable as far as I'm concerned, and I feel we would be better off without the stuff in our lives. We can continue to burn wood for heat, and I'm sure there are other methods of powering the factories. I'm not a scientist, though I'd very much like to meet with some and see what can be done about this problem. I'm not a rich Drake, but I'm willing to put my coins on the table and be a part of a solution."

I was asked to refrain from conducting business in court, but otherwise my opinions were met with lots of nodding, applause, and various rounds of cheering. Late-morning came soon after, and the assembled judges dismissed everyone for a break. I wasn't needed for the rest of the day, so I was taken back to my hospital room by way of rolling chair. Various individuals outside the courthouse wanted to speak to me on behalf of local news sources, but my doctors insisted I return to bed for the time being.

I was quite tired after my part in that mornings events, so after a snack and a drink, I promptly fell asleep. For many days after that one, I continued my routine of rest and recovery, and was called back to court twice to be professionally examined and have my injuries documented in detail for court records. My doctors were also asked when they thought I'd be fully healed again, and they estimated it would be months, if not a year. I learned later part of this investigation was being used to determine financial compensation for victims, plus to further hand out fines and charges where needed.

I was assured by my doctors that I would be taken care of for as long as was needed, and I didn't have to worry about my personal finances or anything of the sort. My assets had been claimed and stored by my tribe for safe keeping, logged in both family books and the local money houses just to keep my mind at ease. Over the weeks and months to follow, quite a few things were ultimately determined by the Capitol Courts. Business owners with an interest in coal power were charged with overstating safety records, and for trying to downplay previous health concerns that had cropped up for many years now. Many were fined, arrested, and ultimately put to work as indentured labourers on public farms as their punishment. They'd pay back to the society they'd helped to harm with sweat and toil.

Further, the government would begin a phase out of coal power, with directives to develop alternatives. There were apparently already some alternate power sources that had been explored at various universities, so the scientists and professors would soon be called upon for public demonstrations, studies, and such as needed. Work programs would be put into place to move affected citizens to other professions, or simply altered versions of the ones they already had. Miners were still miners, and they could mine something else as an example. I was awarded a considerable sum of coin for the damages I'd suffered, plus the loss of home, business, and family. Some of the coin went to the tribe as a whole, but the rest was mine. For the time being I let it sit within the tribes coffers, though before long I was entertaining guests from my hospital bed whom hoped I would be an investor in their various ventures.

Most I politely declined, but one Drake caught my attention. Sporting a very dark green complexion, and an exceedingly fetching paunch, the fellow certainly stood out when he came by during afternoon tea. He was all too happy to help himself to a helping of candied meats, and his own mug of tea fresh from the pot. Dragging a chair over to my bedside, he made himself comfortable and took a few good swigs of his beverage before introducing himself.

"Pleasure to meet you, Sir Jadewing. I was hoping to speak with you for a while, if you're up to it."

I had no idea where this "sir" nonsense was coming from. I was no noble, but apparently I'd become a tad famous thanks to the court case. And all it took was having an opinion after being mostly exploded. These are strange times we live in.

"Sure, I welcome the company. And please, call me Del."

The portly Drake nodded and smiled, leaning back while letting his wings droop with obvious relaxation.

"Del it is. If we're going with short names, then just call me Dunn. Easier to pronounce anyways. I was in the visitors stands during your trip to the courts, and was hoping to speak with you about some of what you said. I'm an engineer with the local university, and we've been working on steam production via methods other than burning coal."

That certainly got my attention! All the coal burning engines of industry and transport were generating steam at the end of the day, and the steam drove the machines. Everyone knew that wood was used before coal, but burned hotter, thus more steam. If they could generate steam some other way, it would surely be put into use what with the recent decisions handed down by the courts.

"Our primary interest is seeing if we can use the heat from our sun to do anything useful. We've already had some success with using sunlight to generate lots of hot water. We've been deploying large metal tanks out to small villages and farms, where they're filled with water and painted black. After being out in the sun all day, the water within gets heated up quite a bit, almost to the boiling point. So far they're working very well, and are apparently far more popular than heating water with wood stoves and the like. We'd like to try and refine the idea, and see if we can get the water hot enough to drive a steam engine."

I nodded as he spoke, finding that everything sounded all well and good so far. The water heating tanks definitely sounded like a good idea, though I'd yet to see one myself.

"Well Dunn, that sounds like a fine idea, and I'm glad you told me about it. I'm pleased to hear that somebody is taking the problem seriously, and trying to do something about it. What does this have to do with me, though?"

Dunn must have realized that I'd been subjected to several business pitches already. Perhaps my body language was giving something away? In any case, he decided to get to the point.

"Ahem. I came here to see if you'd be interested in joining our little group. We don't have all that much which is commercially viable just yet, but with all the new mandates and likely new sources of funding, we think it will only be a matter of time. We're looking for people who have an interest in the work, and hopefully some talent to back it all up. Now I know you're going to say that you're no engineer or scientist, but you were a money changer as I understand. That demonstrates a certain talent with maths, which is always useful. And even with an extended recovery period in the hospital, you could start studying to become whatever you'd like."

That was certainly an idea, I had to give him that. I'd never given much thought to what I was going to do after the money handling business had grown stale. Many of us drakes tended to switch careers and practices many times in their lives, so going to university to study the sciences wasn't outside the realm of possibility. And he was right to assume I had an interest in the subject, now that I'd gotten involved in things so directly.

"That is quite a lot to think about, Dunn. I must say it is quite a lovely idea, and one I'll have to give some time and consideration. You'll forgive me if I don't make snap decisions about a new direction for my life to take..."

The portly fellow tidied up the last of his snacks and stood up, dusting some crumbs off his vest-covered middle.

"No, that's perfectly reasonable. I figured I'd come over, plant the seed of an idea, and let you get your rest. Speaking of which, I see the duty nurse eyeing me. Visiting time must be over, so I'll get going. Do look us up at the University if you want to chat more about anything. Be seeing you, Del."

With that he was off, and soon enough the nurse wandered in to make sure I was comfortable, and encouraged me to get some sleep. A nap sounded like a great idea at the time, and soon I was blissfully slumbering.

Over the next few weeks I weighed my options in life, and started making plans that went beyond simple recovery. My doctors felt it was a very positive sign, as they were worried I might slip into depression if I simply existed in the hospital for too much longer. Brief meetings were held with various individuals in the city, and ultimately I decided that getting into the sciences was a fine idea. The University was all too happy to have me, and of course quite happy to have my coin for books and other materials.

I was able to start the basics from my hospital bed, reading up on more advanced forms of the mathematics I was already familiar with, and other such subjects looping into the engineering world. My doctors estimated I'd be able to start attending classes in a few months, provided I decided to live on campus. There was a great hospital facility there, so they'd be able to help me with my recovery on a daily basis. Several of the hospital staff I already knew also helped out around the University hospital, and also taught there from time to time, so no doubt I'd be seeing more of them.

I'd now officially retired from the money changing business, and was eagerly exploring a new line of work. Hopefully one that benefited both myself and the world as a whole, and prevented further mishap like the one that had destroyed my home town. As the months passed, and my body healed further, I was able to move into the University campus itself. I was assigned a nice little ground floor suite that had all the amenities I needed, including a rolling chair I could get around with until my legs finished growing back. It wasn't the easiest device to use, but it was better than being stuck in bed all day, or forced to crawl around on my belly.

My doctors felt I adjusted to University life well, and many of them hoped to see me around the campus for many years to come. Truth be told, campus life was just what I needed. So many wonderful people to get to know, with wonderful minds and lovely bodies. The campus bath house was a great place to relax, and get treated to all sorts of pleasurable stimuli. Plus the warm water felt wonderful on my tender hide.

I dove into my studies with as much interest as I could muster, happy to be doing something productive with my time other than just lazing about. Not that there's anything wrong with lazing about of course... there's just a time and a place for these things. It was going to take a while to learn all I wanted to learn, but I was willing to take the time. After all, I had plenty of it to spare. I'll have to wrap up this journal for now, as I'm running out of space. Hopefully the campus store has spare journals, as I've rather gotten used to writing the things.

Worst case, I suppose I'll have to order a few of them for good measure.

-Tombfyre 2016

To be continued!