He followed after the purple-furred male, gaze shifting from Roten to the dragon waiting just beyond the line of handlers.
"This is Wildfire."
She was far from the largest of the dragons gathered for the day, but she carried herself like she believed otherwise. Her scales held a deep ember-red sheen beneath darker ridges of charcoal and smoke-gray, each plate catching the daylight like banked coals beneath ash. A pair of swept horns crowned her narrow head, and her long tail dragged slow furrows through the dirt as she turned to regard the strangers being brought before her.
Navarre lifted one gloved hand, not touching her at first. He let Wildfire lower her head on her own, let her breathe him in, then set his palm against the warm bridge of her snout. She sniffed at Roten before blowing a breeze of hot hair over him as well.
"She is quick, sharp-tempered, and far too clever for her own good," he said, the faintest trace amusement softening his otherwise composed tone.
"Which means I expect the two of you will get along splendidly… "
Wildfire gave a low rumble, smoke curling thinly from between her teeth. It was not quite a growl, not quite a purr; more a warning that she was listening, and had opinions.
Navarre stepped in to check the fastenings himself, fingers moving with practiced care over each buckle and cinch. He tugged once, then twice, testing the give before he looked satisfied. He stepped back and gestured toward the saddle.
"Roten, you mount first... Keep your weight centered when she climbs, lean with her when she turns, and if she dives, do not stiffen. That is how people lose their seat."
Wildfire shifted, claws pressing into the earth as her wings unfurled halfway. The movement sent dust stirring across the yard, rattling tack and loose chain. Navarre looked up at the dragon, then gave her shoulder one last firm pat.
"Yes. I know. You are very impressive."
He waited to mount until after Roten, then removed a length of silk cloth to wrap securely around his eyes. Once seated, he scooted forward, slipped his arms around Roten's waist, and folded his own golden feathered wings in tight.
His grip was surprisingly strong for such a svelte creature.
The dragon chosen for Jackie was the smallest of the group, though only by comparison to the great beasts gathered around them. He was still a powerful creature, all lean muscle and restless energy beneath scales of blue-green iridescence. The colors shifted running from deep lagoon teal to bright sea-glass green, with hints of violet catching along the curve of his horns and the fine ridges of his spine.
Unlike some of the others, he seemed delighted to be going.
His claws tapped against the stone in a lively rhythm, tail swishing behind him as he struggled to hold still. The handlers tried to settle him with soft commands, but the little dragon kept craning his neck, bright-eyed and eager, as though the sky itself had called his name.
He did not seem to mind the pink youth before him. If anything, he appeared pleased by Jackie's presence, lowering his head with a cheerful little rumble before nudging him gently with his snout. When Jackie did not mount quickly enough for his liking, the dragon gave another careful push, helping him up toward the saddle with surprising patience.
Once Jackie was settled, the dragon crouched.
Then he sprang upwards suddenly; the leap was enormous!
Stone vanished beneath them as the dragon launched himself skyward, wings snapping wide to catch the air. The first climb came fast and hard, a fierce ascent that pressed breath tight in the chest and sent the world dropping away below. Wind tore past in cold, silver currents, sharp enough to sting at the eyes and tug loose strands of hair free. The warmth of the courtyard fell behind them in an instant, replaced by thin, rushing air and the bite of altitude.
Higher still, they climbed, up and up and up!
The clouds swallowed them in pale mist, damp and freezing against skin and cloth. Then, with one final stroke of his wings, the little dragon broke through the upper veil and leveled out above the cloud layer.
There, the flight finally became smoother.
The winds remained strong, but they moved in broad, steady streams, carrying the dragon forward with almost effortless grace. The cold was cleaner up here, thinner, threaded with sunlight and the distant scent of rain. Beneath them, the clouds rolled like a white sea, soft hills and valleys stretching toward the horizon.
Ahead, the rest of the flight had already pulled into formation, dark shapes cutting across the open sky.
Beyond them, far in the distance, Eosmere waited their arrival.
The city rose through the haze like something born from pearl and stone, its towers catching the light above the clouds while the world below remained hidden beneath the weather. It was still far off, but visible now, a promise on the horizon.
The little blue-green dragon gave an eager trill and angled himself toward the others, wings steady, heart clearly set on catching up with Wildfire was not far behind.
Roten
Jackie Rosso
