Black Fur

My overthinking module whirs. Neither of us has said a word since we left the city. Akkuiggana has simply been trudging a step and a half in front of me the entire time. He has, at least, lowered his hood, letting his teal hair dance in the wind. The way the sunlight strikes the golden gems growing at its tips could easily have been called beautiful by someone with a need to affirm others’ beauty. I look to the side, crossing my arms.

Akkuiggana turns his head and sighs. “Come on, spit it out.”

“I do not understand,” I answer.

“Right, so you’re pouting for no reason, I get you,” the dragon says rather curtly before continuing on. “Feel free to keep going, don’t let me bother you.”

I focus my eyes on the back of his head. On his beautiful mane of hair. My overthinking module keeps whirring, and I record the momentary activation of my panic module. It quickly shuts down, but I am left wondering what had triggered it. I look down at my golden arm. Equally as golden as the ends of his hair. Hair. Hair. Why did my hair have to get destroyed? Why did this comically large creature find it in itself the power to destroy my most prized possession? I tried to rearrange it back into shape using my ribbons, the way they reinforced my arm, but to no avail. Nothing. No solution. And this dragon gets to have a full head of it, perfectly maintained to boot? I limit my overthinking module as it starts to overheat. The sun is strong on its own, my systems shouldn’t be running at full power in these conditions. But it’s so difficult when all I want to do is rip Akkuiggana’s entire scalp off and burn it into cinders before his bawling eyes. What would he say? Would he even cry? Does he care? I attempt to imagine this scenario, but I find I have too little information on him. Too little, since he talks so little, and even Gua rarely talks about him. They’re a family. I had very low odds of running into one as dysfunctional as theirs.

“We’re there.”

My thoughts are interrupted by Akkuiggana stopping abruptly. When I look ahead at where he looks though, I see nothing but a path leading to a more forested area. Not a wood on its own, but not a meadow either. The path veers upwards between the treeline and up a small hill. Akkuiggana turns to me with a frown. “Still pouting? Doesn’t matter to me, honestly.”

“I am a machine, I do not pout.”

“Yeah tell that to your pouting face. I’ve had a young daughter for quite some time now, believe me I can recognize a pout when I see one.”

I choose to ignore this. “What is this place?”

“A common. Or rather, a former one, ever since it made it its home.”

I need further information. “It?”

“Yeah, that’s why we’re here.” Akkuiggana says calmly and resumes walking. “Stay close behind me, and if you hear knocking, ignore it.”

The common seems to open up further as we walk past the treeline and up the hill. Akkuiggana leads me upwards until we reach a rocky plateau filled with purple flowers. They sway in the wind, calm and graceful, splayed before the open sky. The area seems almost walled off by the treeline that surrounds it. Like a city, or an island with no water. Akkuiggana approaches the flowers and kneels before one, sighing deeply. “Really didn’t wanna have to come back here,” he says. “Blasted Gua, for forcing me to go… And she knows.”

I ready myself to enquire about what it is she knows, when I hear a knock. Then another. And another. A strong gust of wind blows, settling into an uncanny silence. I find that Akkuiggana has risen, and that my systems have begun scanning the area for the source of the knock to no avail. Each knock seems to have come from a different rock. One 37 degrees, another 93 and the final at 110 from where I stand. Each at a varying distance, with no discerning pattern aside from them moving in the direction of the wind. I stop moving. Akkuiggana shifts, however, and as he does, so does the wind, as if waiting for anyone to make a move. He walks past me and back towards the path. “Shall we?”

I follow, uncertain of what I had just witnessed, but recalling Akkuiggana’s warning.

//If you hear a knock, ignore it- Good work, Chief, although in that moment, you totally lost it.//

Shush, I tell myself. While the experience was unusual, I didn’t get afraid or alarmed by it. If anything, it was the profound effect it seemed to cause to the wind that gave me pause, but that was likely just a coincidence too. It was likely some monster like the Triptophages or the Glomeruloids. One that knocks on rocks, as some elaborate hunting method. For some reason, I hasten my pace.

And find myself rubbing shoulder with Akkuiggana.

He turns to me slightly as I step to the side. “If you’re worried about monsters, I’ll kill any that you don’t recognize,” he says unprompted, but his face remains stony. A shadow of a tree passes over us, making light break and refract off of his piercings and hair. He frowns. “Stop staring, it’s weird,” but then he blushes.

Or doesn’t. I am unknowledgeable in dragon physiology.

We make it further along the path before I realize we are moving in a circle around the flower meadow. In the break between two trees, I catch a glimpse of the purple swaying and the rocks. And hear another knock. Then two more.

But what alarms me this time, is I get a read on something moving across the meadow at almost an unreadable speed.

Akkuiggana’s sandals click onto a rock, not dissimilarly to the knocks, and I turn forward again. He looks at me once again and hesitates before speaking. “You, uh, and Gua getting along?”

“Why don’t you ask her? I am but her maid.”

He sighs. “Thanks, I’ve just been trying to keep your focus. For a robot, you’re oddly skittish.”

Skittish? Not a word I’d use to describe myself. “I’d rather say I am thoroughly uninformed on what is happening here today, and would like explanations, but if you wish to call me skittish, if Gua agrees, I won’t have a choice but to accept it.”

“Right. Goddess you’re annoying.” Akkuiggana grows silent again, and I find myself suddenly too aware of the sound of our feet crunching on the road beneath. Every pebble, every grain of dry soil. Amplified in this silence. I am not like this, I should not be bothered by the silence. Silence is a respite. Respite from the screaming, howling noise. But this one feels loud for some reason. Feels? Incorrect term. It IS loud.

But not as loud as the next knock.

It is a rock to my right. About five metres away. My overthinking and panic modules snap into action as my head snaps rightwards to look for the source of the knock. In that moment, I realize two things; one is that Akkuiggana is blocking most of my view. Second is that there is something launching itself at us from that direction and throwing itself at Akkuiggana. “Wait, no-” I grab his robe, pulling him back with enough force to lift him off his feet. I hear him shout something my language module fails to translate, and for a moment I watch a black furry shadow looming in the air above us before it falls on top of Akkuiggana and they both fall on top of me.

“Auuuughhhh, what’s wrong with you!?” The dragon roars. “I had no desire to deal with this.”

“Wait, isn’t this something dangerous?” I ask, unable to see from his body laying atop mine. He shifts.

“No! Akh, get away from me, you’re so annoying-” He seems to be talking to something other than me. “Fine, take one, just take one and go you good-for-nothing furball.” Akkuiggana shifts again before a small bark resounds through the area. His body relaxes as he lets a breath out. “Really, that damn thing is still as feisty as ever.” Akkuiggana says. “It was going at you too, yknow, and you would’ve had nothing for it to play with. I told you to just ignore it, useless robot.”

“I’m still underneath you.”

“...sorry.”

As we both get our bearing, Akkuiggana dusting himself off, I take a look around only to see nothing. “What was that?” I ask and he smacks his face with his hand.

“Will you stop giving it any attention, it can still hear us, you know.”

I consider this, but am unable to reach a satisfying conclusion with my thoughts. Whatever it was, Akkuiggana seems to want to drop the topic, but my overthinking and panic modules keep yelling at me to ask him more about it. As I open my mouth, however, another voice speaks from behind me.

“Now now, that’s quite enough, you’ll give the old girl a stomach ache if you make her run around all day.”

I turn around. Standing before me, framed by the light peering through the trees, with its unmistakably metallic body, is a machine. It is as tall as me, with a long, hunched over cylindrical body connected with rubber, ridged sections and two rudimentary arms and legs. It would’ve been considered an outdated model even 2600 years ago, but it matches nothing in my records. It is equally as brass colored as I am, golden arm notwithstanding. I record its appearance for further reference, taking in more of the details. Its body is comprised of three sections, with two longer ones at the bottom and one shorter one on the top, likely a rudimentary head. The upper segment turns until a green line of light meets our gazes. Akkuiggana is the first to step forward.

“Hello, old friend.”

“Hello.”

“I brought a visitor, is it alright if we move inside?”

“Certainly, follow me.”

The conversation is banal. But what is even more banal is that the machine starts leading us further down the path in jovial silence. In this state, I disregard the previous creature entirely, focusing on the oddness in front of me. “You have sentient machines?”

“What do you think you are?” Says Akkuiggana. “Also rude, Madama is a family friend. She does my hair when it needs doing. She’s one of the only people who can.”

“You flatter me,” says Madama. Her voice is clear, meaning her voice module is less rudimentary than her chassis. “But yes, I am one of the few remaining skilled enough to handle draconic hair. Akkuiggana here has visited me many times to change his hairstyle back in the day. That was quite fun, was it not? You’d say normal hairdressers scared you because they wanted to talk.”

Akkuiggana groans at this. “Yes yes whatever. He needn’t know all this.”

“As you say. Privacy is blissful. I take it you want me to tame that mane of yours?”

“Well, mostly his.” As he says this, Madama’s face turns to me while her body continues walking forwards.

“As yes I see. And his hair, may I presume..?”

“Yes you can presume. It’s probably correct.”

“Then you came to the right place.” Her face snaps to the correct side of her body. “We’re here, welcome to my studio.”

We stand before a small wooden cabin in a clearing in the woods. There are no special signs on the building, nor does it appear to be of a special quality of build. It is simple and rural. That’s about it. Madama stands by the entrance, inviting us in, and we oblige. To my surprise, there is nothing inside aside from a chair, a table with a pair of scissors on it and a freshly cut flower in a pot, and a hole the diameter of Madama’s body in the corner, stacked right beside a broom leaning against the wall.

“What shall I do for you today then, boys?”