Priča
Fantazijske minijature jahača kecala
Nothing that lives in the canopy has ever consented to be ridden. The Quetzal simply allows it, for reasons no rider has been rude enough to ask about.
The riders are chosen young, for weight and for nerve, and they are taught one rule before they are taught anything else: the bird decides. A Quetzal that judges the wind badly will turn mid-dive and take the hillside instead of the target, and the rider's job is to still be holding on when it does. Agama war-song counts their dead in a separate verse.
They are not shock troops. They are the reason a besieging army wakes to find its supply train scattered across nine miles of forest and its officers missing.
Iridescent plumage rewards patience — glaze over a mid-tone base rather than reaching for the bright colour first, and let the riders stay drab so the wings win.
Izradio studio naveden iznad. Tiskano u Hrvatskoj, Vault of Delights.
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