Chapter 28
Reynard
Cinared was basking in the sun on the lower terrace.
The three dragons acting as messengers surrounded him in silence.
He stood up at my approach, and the beasts bowed their heads, then moved respectfully to the side, giving him space, as a family of wolves would with their leader.
My eyebrows shot up at this display, and I couldn’t resist goading him a little.
Oh, King of Dragons, I humbly beg for your indulgence to take us home.
The crimson dragon’s head shot up. The surprise in his thoughts at my jest was palpable before it developed into a very toothy grin.
We don’t have kings, Reynard. Unlike your kin, dragons have no need to rule, but if you insist on giving me a title, I suppose then perhaps Master would suit?
he answered, spreading his wings so I could climb onto his back.
Yet they bow to you, I thought, more curious than ever. I was determined to learn more about my soul-bonded companion.
I’m an eldritch dragon, he answered, as if that explained all. I do not rule. I protect, he said, his scales rattling as if my footsteps irritated him.
Then protect me. I almost impaled my arse on your crest. Could you lower it? Or is there another place you want me to sit? I grunted as I settled onto his shoulders, and Cinared’s spiked crest rose to meet my falling backside.
I don’t know, Reynard. You are my first rider. Since you have experience in mounting my kin, you should teach me. His laughter rumbled through my body. White steam escaped his nostrils, blasting into winter’s cold, but he did as I asked.
I eyed the flattish area at the base of his muscular neck warily, hoping Cinared wouldn’t repeat his little joke. Then, muttering something about dragons and old age, I sat in the space where most dragon riders put their saddles.
This is where Vahin prefers me to sit. Is this comfortable for you?
His scales were much hotter than the blue dragon’s.
Can you do that thing to hold my calves?
I sent him a mental image. Cinared shrugged his shoulders, and the skin stretched out next to my knees.
I placed my legs there and found it remarkably comfortable.
One smoky huff later, my legs were held firmly in place.
He shifted his muscles, giving me a running commentary of his opinion on the situation. Is this really necessary? One sneeze and you’ll fall off.
I didn’t fall from other dragons, I said, when, after a lot of shifting, wriggling, and complaining, my dragon was finally satisfied with our position.
You won’t ride any other dragons from now on. Cinared turned his head, glaring at me. You are my chosen.
You have a bit of an attitude problem, don’t you? I thought back just as he spread his wings. With one massive leap, we were in the sky. I thanked the gods for the dragon’s hold on my legs because I was close to being thrown off his back. I’ll need to order a comfortable saddle.
As soon as the thought of leather seating flashed in my mind, Cinared turned his head in my direction, the unblinking stare of one golden eye meeting mine.
If you ever try tying such a contraption on me, I’ll impale more than your arse.
I may allow you to ride on me occasionally, but I’m not a pony.
When I choose to let you on my back, I’ll make sure you stay there.
The pride in his thoughts offset the harsh words. The low rumble of approval that ran through his body fused with the working of his wings, and before I knew it, I was looking down at my men as they cheered their king and his magnificent beast.
We were soon so high that all I could see were clouds, and despite the buffeting of the wind, Cinared glided with ease, barely shifting his muscles to move forward.
I grabbed the crest spike in front of me and leaned forward.
The clouds parted, and I gasped in wonder at the beautiful world below.
Wiosna and my kingdom, covered in snow, seemed untouched by the horrors of war from this distance.
The pristine white fields and forests looked more like a scene from a fairytale or an artist’s attempt to capture winter’s charm.
It all seems so calm from above. My thoughts were tinged with sadness, but Cinared opened our link, and I saw the world through his eyes. Colours sprang to life around us, each vivid and overwhelming. They moved in harmony, twisting and turning as we slid between them.
This is the world a dragon sees, Reynard. Each colour is the aether in its different forms, changed and influenced by each living being.
I marvelled at the joy in his soul, not just at the freedom of flying, but at the chance to share this with someone. Cinared was happy, even if he hid it deep in his soul.
The world may seem calm, but each emotion, each action, affects the aether. As beautiful as it appears, this life is also lonely, and after centuries, even time becomes irrelevant. I am glad I found you, Reynard.
I thought about what he’d said, how it must have felt gliding alone all those aeons.
On a smaller scale, I was like him, but that was before I met Sana, and before Cinared.
I placed my hand on his warm scales just as his wings beat the air.
His body radiated coiled strength, which he revelled in showing me.
Cinared swooped down each time I wished to see the countryside, his passage shaking the snow from the treetops.
Thank you. I couldn’t dream of having a better companion.
I let him feel my emotions as I delighted in this shared experience.
I’d ridden dragons before, but flying with Cinared was a completely new experience.
First, our mind link removed all my worries.
Second, he was warm. My excursion with Vahin left me as cold as an icicle.
Now, I thoroughly savoured the ride, and even the harsh wind currents couldn’t dispel the heat radiating from the dragon’s scales.
Why is it so different? I asked, sending him a mental image of my recent flight.
My brother belongs to the storms; I am fire incarnate. Mischief flashed in his mind, and suddenly, the edges of his wings burst into flames, trailing a plume of fire and smoke in the clouds.
‘Are you out of your mind?’ I coughed, grasping the crest harder.
My instincts recoiled in terror when smoke engulfed us. I could only hope no one watched from below because the burning silhouette of the dragon would spark panic in the bravest of souls.
Haven’t you learned that the fire will never hurt you? The same aether I arose from is now woven into your blood. You’ll reign over the flames with me, the fire and the skies. His voice brimmed with ancient power, but despite his reassurance, I couldn’t stop my hands from shaking.
Cut it out, the people below have enough on their plates without worrying about eldritch horrors flying over their heads.
Oh, but where’s the fun in that? he said, pure joy filling his soul, and mine. The fire died down, but the lingering power still shimmered over his scales, as crimson as blood, the ridges now gleaming with gold.
The grey walls of Truso appeared on the horizon, growing larger with each passing moment. He was faster than any dragon I knew, and even with his prickly demeanour, I couldn’t deny this feeling was worth dealing with his occasional reproach.
Reproach? I was holding back. The amusement in his thoughts made me smile, but it soon faded, returning to the wistfulness I’d felt before.
I was angry when your pain reached me through the clouds.
But the power that awakened your Wild Magic, the one that bonded us, was stronger than time and space.
Now, my insolent human, I think that maybe…
just maybe, you’ve always been my fate all along.