Better Beastiary

     
     A crippling fear of heights is apparently not excuse enough to exempt one from one's duties here at Better Bestiary. Though we fauns like to keep our hooves firmly planted on the ground, when there's a story to be gotten, we must soldier on. Such were the arguments of our editor-in-chief, Zyanya, upon hearing my complaints about my latest assignment, and, as a willing and obedient junior reporter who would like to keep her job, such is my attitude today.

     The assignment was this: visit and participate in The Simurgh School of Flight, an institute dedicated to training riders and caretakers of the mythic and massive bird of prey, the roc. 

     Domesticated in ancient times by military leaders looking to give their forces an edge, the roc has long held a special place of honor among persian cultures. Modern times, however, have seen the sport of roc riding nearly go extinct - no longer viable for military purposes and considered an overly lavish pass-time of the rich, economic downturn nearly put an end to the Simurgh Flight School, one of the oldest still in operation. Unwilling to let this ancient tradition go defunct, it's 46th director, Basir Parande, set out to find new relevance for his floundering flock.

     He found it on the Persian countryside in the form of a lesser-known species of dragon known as the vulturine naga. Nesting in the surrounding mountains, these naga were the terrors of local farmers - feeding off their flocks and frightening travelers on the road. Where others saw an annoyance, Parande saw opportunity. He gathered his small throng of remaining students and offered their services to the dragon-plagued farmers, giving both his birds, his pupils and the farmers a new lease on life. Seeing opportunity for exciting and useful employment, a new generation of students flocked to the school and the art of roc riding began to thrive anew.

      When my partner, Garshasp, and I arrived at the school, they spared no time in incorporating me into their ranks - after touring the eyries and meeting the newly hatched chicks (most of whom, though only weeks old, already dwarfed me) I was thrown into an over-sized flight suit and introduced to my friendly and feathered mount, Bousseh. Less than two hours after arriving I was receiving my first and only flight lesson before going up on patrol. Despite my assertions that I wasn't ready to fly, my instructor, Ramin, assured me that my bird, Bousseh, would do all the flying - I only needed to hold on. With those less than comforting words I was strapped to the saddle and took to the air with a flock of other flight students.

     For me, it was the most exhilarating and terrifying experience in my life, but for the other students it was little more than a routine flight. We soared across the farmlands west of the school, patrolling for naga flocks and chasing off intruders.
     
     It might seem like these roc riders are playing aerial bully to the native vulturine nagas, but the situation is actually mutually beneficial.

     "You want the nagas to be able to live in their natural environment," Ramin explained to me, "but you've got to sympathize with the local farmers. Watching your livelihood be carried off by the native wildlife doesn't exactly endear you to it."

     The rocs, natural predators to the nagas in the wild, make for the perfect deterrent. During my short flight, the mere presence of our team in the sky was enough to repel several flocks of nagas. This constant patrolling keeps livestock safe from predation and the nagas out of the farmer's crosshairs. When presence alone isn't enough to deter the nagas, the rocs put their training to use to herd the beasts to more acceptable hunting grounds. The aerial acrobatics these birds can perform are breathtaking - with awe I watched as Ramin and his bird plucked a straying naga from the air mid-flight, depositing it back with its fleeing flock without a single scratch.

     "People often characterize us roc riders and the nagas as enemies," says Ramin, "but the truth is we owe our very existence to that little dragon. If the nagas hadn't made a nuisance of themselves, we'd be out of a job and our birds would be out on the street. We're happy to see the nagas nest here for years to come."

     And the farmers, from what I can see, are equally happy to see these riders and their birds patrol the skies for just as long. I still prefer to keep my hooves on the ground, but I consider my short duration as a student of the Simurgh School of Flight a (very large) feather in my cap.