SCA: Ringer
A pilot competes for the a Ringer Championship title on an unconventional pegasus
The roar of a crowd filled the jagged canyon. Rows of seats had been carved into the steep walls surrounding a portion of the valley that was studded with tall spires of stone. Spectators whooped as a broadwing pegasus as red as the desert rocks wove deftly through the columns, sweeping dangerously close to large wooden pillars set into the stone.
The pillars dotted the canyon arena's landscape from top to bottom. Hoops of different colors hung from them by delicate string: green worth 1 point, yellow worth 3 points, red worth 10 points, and blue worth a hefty 25 points. The pilot snatched a green hoop hanging out in the open on a pillar, then dove down to find a red hoop wedged in some rocks near the floor of the canyon. Then she followed a natural stone spire upwards, looping around it and grabbed a yellow hoop close to the stands.
Her pegasus' outermost feathers whipped across the stands, forcing the spectators to scramble out the way, but they only cheered all the louder. Then she angled her pegasus toward a narrow archway. Within the center of the arch hung a blue hoop. The crowd anticipated the move, starting to chant. Picking up speed, and just moments from the archway, the pegasus folded its wings tightly to its body and shot through the small opening so fast you could barely see the pilot snatch the blue hoop from its string. The crowd roared again when she held it in the air triumphantly.
Sothy raised his eyebrows. Impressive. He clapped along with the crowd as the pegasus continued to swoop and dive elegantly. Sothy, like many others, was keeping track of her score: eight green, four yellow, four red, and a blue adorned her arms, bringing her score to 85. Previous scores from other pilots were comparable, but she was in the lead. He didn’t want to admit that he was nervous, but with the competition this stiff, Sothy had his work cut out for him.
Leaving the stands, he retreated to the narrow end of the canyon. The sounds of the crowd dimmed as he walked down a covered aisle and then into another open area. Chirping, cawing, and nickering met his ears. The other competitors were here in the holding corral. They all waited with tense energy for their turn to be called; to compete and have a shot at victory and the spoils that went with it. This particular title was for the Coal Canyon Circuit Championship (Quad-C) Signet. It was a mark of prestige and carried a hefty winner’s purse. If he could win this, he’d have a very good chance at joining a Ringer team.
Sothy stopped short as the red pegasus came in for a landing. Both the pegasus and the pilot were breathing hard. Sothy and the pilot nodded at each other. He finally made his way to his own pegasus, and whistled to her. Pippa raised her elegant head.
She was not a broadwing pegasus, but rather a longwing. She was thinner and lighter than the broadwings, but larger in terms of height and wingspan. Longwings were normally known for their stamina and stability, not for agility or speed, so she was a strange sight in the Ringer circuits. Pippa, however, had proven herself as a snappy longwing. She could compete against many broadwings in terms of agility, yet still retained some of the characteristic longwing stability. And on top of all of that, she was flashy. Unlike the darker colors of the broadwings, she was an ethereal white with beautiful blue eyes. While it was common for longwings, she looked stunningly out of place among the spotted and striped browns, reds, blacks, and golds of the broadwings.
Sothy knew he had a gem of a pegasus on his hands with her. If he could dethrone the reigning broadwing champion, it’d be fantastic bragging rights for all longwing pilots.
He breathed deeply, trying to will away the tightness in his chest as he saddled Pippa. Finally, he slipped a thin, decorative halter over Pippa’s head, and tied delicate beaded bands around her long neck. They were adorned in silver and lapis lazuli, adding a subtle sparkle to Pippa’s already silvery sheen. She contrasted his plain amber show vest and black flight trousers. It bore the pins and patches of previous competitions he’d won. He just needed one more. This win would solidify his place as a champion pilot, and give him an entry to a Ringer team. The gatemaster called his name.
Sothy and Pippa made their way to the head of the runway. Everything seemed to fade as he hopped onto Pippa's back, using her wing as a springboard. He barely noticed the previous rider zoom in for a wild landing. Sothy stared at the flagman. As soon as the flagman's arm came down, Pippa surged forward. As they charged down the runway, Sothy kept her wings close to her body, not allowing her to unfurl them.
The crowd gasped as Sothy and Pippa leapt headlong off the edge of the cliff and dove toward the canyon floor! But Sothy grinned as he spotted a blue ring nestled in the rocks, reachable only with a flightless dive right out of the gate. He grabbed it as they zipped past, then pulled out of the dive. Gaining height was effortless with Pippa’s long wings. Sothy took his surroundings. The hoops were set in different places after each race, so he couldn't memorize where they were while spectating. He had a total of three minutes to gather as many as he could. Pippa swooped and dove through the pillars, but Sothy only managed to snag a few greens and a yellow. The course was tight and challenging. Perfect for smaller broadwings, but not suited for his larger longwing, even as agile as she was.
The halftime horn sounded and Sothy started to feel panicked. He needed more points and fast! Suddenly, a flash of red! He wheeled Pippa around a dove again, spotting the red hoop. He reached out…..and missed! The hoop glanced smartly off his fingers. He yelped as pain blossomed through his hand. Gritting his teeth, he pulled Pippa up, then rolled over in frustration. He would be darned if that red hoop was escaping him. He managed to grab it the second time, but now he was truly behind. Only 37 points!
He looked around in desperation, searching for a way to boost his score. Then, out of the corner of his eye: a glint of blue! Clinging to the canyon wall was a set of scaffolds. Within them were two blue rings! But no pegasus, not even the little red one, could fit inside. Getting at them would require an in-flight dismount, then remount. A highly dangerous maneuver, and one that Sothy had little experience in...but victory wasn’t gained by the faint-hearted. He was going to try! He lined Pippa up with the scaffolding, skimming along the side of the canyon wall. At the last possible moment, he leapt off Pippa’s back on the downstroke of her wings, and landed in an uncoordinated heap on the edge of the scaffolding as she darted underneath.
Hardly seeing what was in front of him, he scrambled to his feet and dashed for the first blue ring, yanking it off it’s string. Pippa had cleared the scaffolding and now circled back around, looking for him. Sothy spotted the second ring. It was tied to a long post, dangling out in the open above the canyon floor. He laughed in disbelief and exhilaration, and then whistled for Pippa. Gathering his courage, he bolted for the edge. Sothy launched himself out into the air.
The hoop met his hand, the string broke, and he saw the canyon floor below him…but no pegasus! His stomach lurched has he started to freefall. He turned his head, looking for her. She was above and behind him! He’d jumped too soon! “Pip!” He shouted, his voice shrill with fear, “Dive!!” Pippa tucked her wings and dove. They hurtled toward the canyon floor. Wind rushed in Sothy's ears, and he couldn't see his pegasus! He caught the glint of the river embedded in the canyon floor. If he could somehow land in the water, would he survive? Suddenly, a force slammed into him, catching him beneath his arms. Pippa! Her left wing had collided with him near her shoulder, throwing them into a spin. Sothy grasped for the saddle, but couldn’t pull himself up. Pippa instinctively threw her wings out as wide as they could stretch, trying to regain balance.
But she couldn’t get any lift! Sothy could see detail on the river’s surface now. He managed to rasp out as he slipped,
"Over starboard!" Pippa angled one wing in, rolling to the right. They dropped faster, and Sothy’s stomach lurched again, but his gravity was centered as she listed. His muscles strained as he hauled himself onto her back and into the saddle. Sothy could hear running water below. As soon as he was clear of her wings, Pippa snapped them open. The wind caught her, yanking them out of the dive. Pippa raced along the top of the water, the momentum of the fall hurtling her far too fast and too close to the river’s surface. She suddenly lurched perpendicular to the river when her left wingtip tore into the water’s surface. She teetered, dangerously close to flipping over.
Sothy threw himself to the right, yanking her wing out of the water, and pressed his toes to her ribs. Pippa rocked with his weight shift. She beat her wings fast and shallow to gain altitude, then caught an updraft, and soared effortlessly back up to the course, making full use of her long wingspan.
Panting, Sothy held aloft the two blue rings as the final horn sounded. He heard the crowd explode in cheers; he had done it! “Good girl! Good bird!” Sothy and Pippa landed to the exclamations of shock and praise of other pilots who had watched their run. He winced as he tossed his rings to the scorekeeper. His hand was aching again, and he was now aware of a fiery pain across his right side stretching from his collarbone to under his arm.
With a prickle of worry, he started to check Pippa, too. He prodded her shoulder and wings, looking for any signs of discomfort. She’d lost a few feathers to the river, but she didn’t seem to be in any pain. He exhaled in relief. A pilot approached: the woman on the red broadwing.
“That was a ballsy stunt you pulled.” Her voice carried admiration but also a hint of disapproval. “Is your mare alright?”
“Yeah,” Sothy replied, “She looks fine. I’ll give her a few days rest before heading back to Oak Creek Falls just in case.” I’ll probably need it more than her, though. His side really did hurt. The other pilot grinned and said,
“Good. C’mon, time for scores.” Sothy and Pippa joined her, along with the other competitors and their pegasi along the canyon edge, above the stands. Sothy steadied himself against Pippa’s shoulder, trying to ignore both the nervousness in his stomach, and the burn in his side.
Everyone was restless. Then the announcer started calling scores. Out of seventeen total pilots, there were eight qualifying competitors, and the scores were all close. Only six would pace, only the top three taken seriously by Ringer teams, two in the line up wouldn’t place at all, and of course, there was only one champion of the Coal Canyon Circuit Championship.
The announcer called the six winning places from the bottom. All of the scores landed in the 80’s, just a few points away from one another. The pilot with the red broadwing claimed second with 82 points. Sothy held his breath. He hadn’t counted his points... He’d been too focused on not falling to his death. The announcer called the final standing,
“And in first place, with 91 points and a harrowing leap...is Sothy and his longwing, Pippa!” Sothy whooped and ruffled Pippa’s feathers. The champion’s signet was hung from her halter, and the victor’s purse was handed to a gleeful Sothy. His aches were forgotten. Victory was sweet!