It felt like days before I eventually found myself flying back towards the keep, but it couldn't have been more than an hour. The moons had barely shifted in the sky, and night was still as deep and dark as it had been when we left. I made a wide bank around the mountains surrounding the fortress, looking down at the forest with what night vision my eyes afforded me. The moonlight was bright enough that I could easily make out the dark evergreen needles of the trees. I saw a lone deer sleeping in a pile of brush, and briefly considered taking the opportunity to practise hunting just in case I ever ended up in a survival situation, but decided that I had been having too relaxing of a night to spoil it by bloodying my claws.
At the apex of my curve towards the fortress, I spied a spot of light in the woods, on the opposite side of the ridge where the castle laid. A small orange beacon, hidden in the shadow of the mountains, sitting right on a spit of rock jutting out over the cliff. It was a campfire, and I could see several dragons laying around it.
I braked in the air, looking between the fire and the keep. They were obviously recruits, so as much as I preferred that nest in our bunks to sleeping on bare rock, I was tempted to at least stop by and see what was going on. And maybe this would be a good opportunity to actually talk to some real dragons. Brand hadn't been as interested in talking to me, even accounting for the language barrier between us, but I knew that some of the other dragons carried around slate tablets and chalk at the very least, and surely one of them was more personable than Brand, right?
That was the thought process that led me to gently swoop down and land in the bushes a couple hundred feet away. I'd had enough practise now that I could land in between the trees without earning myself any cuts from the branches, but I did still make a loud rustle as the air beneath my wings shook the leafy branches. Oh, well. It wasn't like I was trying to sneak up on them.
I heard a growl as I approached the tree line, though it seemed like more of a questioning noise than a nonverbal warning.
"Belfry?" Yura's voice said. "Is that you?"
I paused mid-step. So I wouldn't be fully alone with the other dragons. It was probably for the best. Yura was nice enough, and the only person that I knew was able to speak the dragons' languages.
«It is,» I called.
"Ah, she's an ersatz, like Griffin," Yura said, his voice turned away towards the fire. "She doesn't speak Valish Draconic."
There was a small chorus of rumbling tones as I stepped out of the forest and onto the rock. The small campsite was surrounded with five dragons in total. Two of them were Brand and, to my shock, Griffin. The other three were some dragons that I'd seen around the fortress, but hadn't interacted with ever. One had dark sea-green scales and an array of fins, the tips of which glowed faintly blue where they laid in a pool of shadow, another was a deep wine-red with four gnarled horns forming a twisted crown shape on top of their head, and the fifth had a yellowish hide and a tail tipped with a small blade that resembled a scorpion's stinger.
Yura sat cross-legged next to Brand, his "bruiser" club sitting in front of him as he polished the rough metal striking end. In the firelight, the pitted metal shined with an orange sheen, the bumps and imperfections on its surface creating the illusion of ribbons of cinder running through the weapon. Several feet beyond the camp, Griffin sat at the edge of the light, their wings spread to channel the heat towards Ingo, who was laying down at their feet. He was covered in bruises and small cuts, and his eyes were closed like he was either meditating or trying to sleep.
"Good evening, Belfry," said Yura. "Welcome to our little campsite for the night."
«Right,» I said, sidling around to the side of the camp nearest to the cliff and taking a seat close enough that my tail drooped over the edge. «What's going on here, exactly? I hope I'm not interrupting anything.»
«Oh, not at all,» a warm and smooth projected voice said. I looked around, confusedly thinking it might have been Griffin for a moment, before I found the yellow-scaled dragon staring at me. «We were simply taking some time to have a little bit of fun, and a bit of rest while we are able.»
"Those three are from Eighth Flight," Yura explained. "They set the camp up and invited Brand and me to stay. Griffin and Ingo showed up a few minutes—"
«Hold that thought,» I said, putting a claw up and fixing my eyes on the yellow dragon. «You can speak to me?»
The dragon tilted their head. «Yes,» they said. «I am confused as to why that surprises you, since you are speaking to me in the same way?»
«Oh, um….» I tapped my claws on the stone, feeling a little embarrassed. «I thought that this was something that only ersatz could do. I haven't ever heard a dragon—a real dragon—speak to me before.»
«I assume that you have heard us speak, but maybe not in a language you understand,» the yellow dragon said. «My name is Elvild. These are my friends, Sceocant and Raisonder.» He gestured to the sea-green and wine-red dragons respectively with his wings.
«Belfry,» I reciprocated. «So…if you can speak mentally, does that mean that other dragons can? Or is it something like a rare ability?»
«It takes practise,» said Elvild. «Many months' worth of practise. It becomes easier through the Rite of Bonding, as dragonspeech is similar to the mind-speech that we have with our partners, but it is still a skill that not many have cultivated.»
«I see,» I said. «So you….»
«I hatched in the city of Kirkwall,» said Elvild. «I have been cultivating the skill of dragonspeech since I was only a hatchling. It is difficult, otherwise, to make your way in a place where no one knows what words you say unless you write them down. Especially when you hatched among humans, and have not learned the tongue that you can speak.» He gestured his wing towards his friends. «They are still learning. I am hoping that we will all have this mastered by the time we are commissioned.»
I glanced at Brand, and Yura followed my eyes. "Oh, I see what you're thinking," he said. "I…don't believe that Brand is terribly interested in learning. So, I will need to continue being her translator, for now."
His partner bristled, and I tilted my head. «Are you sure?» I asked.
Yura shifted, his discomfort suddenly becoming plainly visible. "Yes," he said. "I think that once we are done with the test tomorrow, I'll see if I can start teaching all of you Valish Draconic. I think that would be good anyway; I'm sure that you and the other ersatz would like to be able to speak verbally while in your dragon forms."
I would, but I didn't know if the growling, barking language that Brand and the other dragons spoke would actually count for that. Still, I would really like to be able to talk directly to Brand, and it would probably be useful to know if we happened to find other true dragons in our travels. I nodded. «I'm up for that. Won't it take a long time, though? Languages are pretty complicated, I thought.»
"They are, and it will," said Yura. "But if it will take a long time to master, what better time to start learning than now?"
«I suppose….» I turned my attention to Griffin and Ingo. He was definitely asleep by now, his chest slowly rising and falling with shallow breaths. «Hey. How did you two end up here?» I directed my mental voice away from Ingo to make sure I didn't wake him. «I didn't see you in the bunks when Yura woke me up earlier.»
Griffin jumped at the sudden address. «Oh! Well. We were practising.»
«Practising what, if you do not mind me asking?» asked Elvild. «It must have been something dangerous for the Ogre to have ended up as injured as he appears to be.»
«Don't call him that, please,» said Griffin. «I think it upsets him. And it was Ingo's idea. We were skywalking.»
«Skywalking?» I blurted out incredulously. «Alone? What was he thinking?»
Griffin bowed their head in shame. «I know! I know. I tried to warn him. I said that it was too dangerous to do without someone to catch him. He said that he wouldn't need to be caught.» Their back hunched, and they wrapped their wings around Ingo's resting place like a cocoon. «We've been flying since sundown. I think he got tired, and that's what made him slip and fall.»
"Since sundown?" said Yura. "Well, it's no wonder that he tired. I'm impressed that you had the fortitude to keep up with him. He seems to have endless energy for work."
«Oh, I'm exhausted,» said Griffin. Their wings shuddered. «I'm worried that I won't be able to fly well tomorrow. I told him that several hours ago. He said that it won't matter how tired I am if we don't have the skills to pass anyway.»
«So he knew that you were hitting your limit, and kept you working anyway?» I said. Griffin nodded. «Damn. I thought he was getting better after last week, but I guess he's still just as rough as then.»
«Please don't be too harsh,» said Griffin. «He fell. If you want him to have consequences, they've already got him.»
«I'd rather him not force you to run yourself ragged,» I said. «Or the rest of us. It's okay when we need to train hard during the week to get ahead of the test, but he doesn't need to exhaust you or himself at all hours of the day and night.» I sighed, finally laying down onto my side. «It isn't healthy. I don't know where his obsession with being completely prepared all the time comes from, but he doesn't need to force it on the rest of us.»
Griffin stared ahead. Their eyes grew sad. «I don't think it's his fault,» they said.
«How?» I asked.
«I…don't think his family was very nice,» said Griffin. «I've heard of Clan Helmont before.»
I raised a brow ridge. «Really? I haven't.»
«Yes, really. I used to make trips from my home village to Wrightsmouth. I heard of them there, from the sailors that came into port. They're more famous in the south, but sometimes people here hire them to protect their ships from Kreathar raiders. They…have a bad reputation.»
«Bad reputation, how?» I asked, leaning my head a little closer. «I don't know of many free swords that have completely clean histories.»
«They sounded worse than other free swords,» said Griffin. «I heard that they would push bandits and raiders closer to people's homes so that they could sell themselves as protection. And then they would kill people who couldn't pay. Or just let the bandits raid their home and kill them themselves, and then take a cut of the loot.»
Yura scowled. "That is despicable, if true."
«Yes,» agreed Griffin. «But they also said, that. Um. Well. I heard they would….» Griffin squeezed their eyes shut. The pincers on the end of their tail clenched and unclenched. «…That they would use the ones of their clan that couldn't fight as bait. For monsters, and such.»
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I reeled back in abject disgust. «What!? That's horrible!»
«I don't know if it's true!» Griffin quickly tacked on. «But if it is…then I can see why he works so hard.»
The red dragon let out a series of low barks, and Elvild bowed his head. «Raisonder is from Grabsheim province, where I believe the Clan Helmont is based,» he said. «He says that he has heard the same stories, though he hasn't met them himself.»
"Land's blood…" said Yura. "I'm surprised a group as barbaric as that would allow one of their own to simply leave, like Ingo has."
«I don't want to guess too much,» said Griffin. «He'll tell us about his life if he wants to. But maybe they didn't let him go.»
We all went silent, pondering that notion. Based on everything that had been shared about this mercenary clan so far, it would make sense for someone to try and escape. The only sticking point for me was that Ingo seemed deeply proud of his heritage. He'd mentioned how coming from Clan Helmont meant that he was an expert fighter and tougher than other humans several times by now. That didn't seem like something he'd bring up if he hated his family enough to run away from them.
Griffin cleared their throat, a hacking, coughing sound. The slits on their neck flexed as they did, venting small trails of smoke. «Anyway. I don't think we should speculate anymore. It's rude.» They carefully shifted away from Ingo, letting him rest on his back by the fire as they sidled up next to me. «Sorry for bringing the mood down. I suppose you probably didn't want to hear about the kinds of things free swords do tonight.»
"Nonsense!" said Yura. "Where I come from, we have a tradition just like this. There is no better setting to talk about whatever troubles you than sitting around a fire, surrounded by friends." He raised his bruiser as though offering a challenge. "As for troubles, I would like to ask you, Belfry: How did you end up managing to breathe fire? Brand and I saw it from the sky, and I know that you have been struggling with it."
I cringed and shrank into myself. I felt the true dragons' eyes on me. Why did Yura have to bring that up in front of them!? Not only was I some half-dragon freak in their eyes, but now they knew that I wasn't even a good enough dragon to breathe fire, something every single other dragon at the academy could do!
«Belfry?» Griffin prodded my shoulder with their tail. «Did you really manage to do it?»
«Yes,» I said, my mental voice taking on the sound of a mumble. «It was an accident. I don't think I could do it again.»
"Well, did that accident at least help you figure out why you're having such difficulty?" asked Yura.
«I think I already knew why,» I said. «I just didn't want to think about it.»
Yura waited a moment for me to continue on my own before he held up his hand, sweeping towards the fire. "Care to share?" he asked.
I glanced between him, Griffin, and the true dragons. I didn't especially want to talk any more about it, no. But it wasn't like the whole thing was a secret; any of them could easily figure it out if they knew what town I was from. All I'd be doing by telling them now was expedite the process. Get it over with. Might as well at least do that.
«I'm…I kind of have a history with fire,» I started slowly, each word carrying immense trepidation behind it. «I'm from Vandermaine. I don't know why, but five years ago, right at the end of the civil war, it…it got burned to the ground by the Imperial Cuirassiers. There was a battle, I saw Veskites there. The fire was started by dragons, I think. A lot of people died. Some of them I knew. One of them was Grace's father. He was burned in dragonfire.»
The whole camp was silent, holding its breath while they waited for me to keep going. «That's really it,» I said. «I don't want to be the one to start a fire. I don't like the smell of smoke and ash. It makes me think of that night. Even if I'm not thinking about it, I think something in my brain just won't let me use fire because of it. Unless I'm…I don't know how it happened. I was having fun flying and just acted on instinct. I think it's the same thing that made me hurt Ingo a week ago. And I really, really don't want that to happen again. So if that's what it takes to get fire out of me, then I guess I'll just have to go without.»
Yura nodded. "I understand. I wouldn't ask you to put yourself through that again, and I think that the leadership here will be able to recognise your struggles. I'm sure that we can make do with only three fire-breathers in our flight."
«Yes,» agreed Griffin. «Although…you said that it felt like the same kind of thing that made you…"hurt" Ingo? Does that mean that you've figured out what that was?»
I pinched my finger in between my claws, a new nervous habit I'd developed over the last two weeks. Now was the perfect time to tell them and ask for help. I couldn't have wished for a better one. There were four helpful true dragons here to talk to me about those intrusive instincts, and to tell me how to control them, and I knew for sure that neither Yura nor Griffin would hold this against me. They were too understanding for that. I'd put it off all week, and here was the best chance I'd get before we went on a mission.
«No,» I lied. «It just…reminded me of then. I didn't lose control or anything. Or at least, I don't think I did. I remember everything, so I'm guessing it's fine. But I don't want to get like that again. I feel like I could have gone over the line really easily.»
"If that's the case, then maybe you shouldn't keep trying," said Yura. "At least until we get more word on what exactly went wrong back then."
«Yeah,» I agreed. «I'll wait. I'm not really in a rush to use fire, anyway.»
Yura stared down at his reflection in the shiny metal of his weapon. "I'm terribly sorry that you had to go through such an awful event as a child. I would not wish such a childhood on anyone. You must have great selflessness to be willing to join the dragoons after that."
«I'm only here for my sister,» I pointed out. «She was the one who really wanted to join.»
"Indeed," said Yura. "Selflessness." He yawned. "Far more than I have got."
«Is that so, sir Yura?» asked Elvild. «You seem to be a warm-hearted person to me. Warmer than some other folk here at the academy, certainly.»
"Hmph, being 'warm-hearted' is not the only aspect of selflessness," said Yura. "I will freely admit that I didn't come here so that I could aid the downtrodden and defenseless of the Vale. I came in search of revenge."
«Revenge?» repeated Griffin. «Against who?»
"A woman by the name of Katra," said Yura. "She visited my home island when I was younger and only just beginning to train as a warrior." His calm face folded into an unfamiliar, stone-cold glare at his weapon. "I don't know what she did, but she caused my entire village to sicken while I was away visiting a nearby mountain shrine. Most of them died within the day."
He clenched his fist. "I tracked her down a few days later, and tried to kill her then and there, but she proved to be a more accomplished swordsman than I, a skill that she enhanced with some sort of strange celestial magic that I hadn't seen before or since." His hand brushed against his empty right sleeve. "She took my arm, and told me that she would see me again in Rimewater Vale. So, here I am, six years later and hopefully strong enough to win this time."
His glare faded, and he shrugged. "I guessed that I would have as good a chance at finding her through the dragoons as anywhere else, especially if she was the sort to go around poisoning villages for whatever her schemes are. I suppose we will find out someday."
I tapped my claw against the stone beneath me. «I'm so sorry for your losses,» I said.
"It's been over half a decade," said Yura. "The scars have faded."
«But you are still seeking vengeance?» said Elvild.
"The pain doesn't sting the way it did then, but a grudge is a difficult thing to let go of," said Yura. "Once you begin directing your anger and hatred towards something or someone who wronged you, you begin to forget how to let that anger out in any way but towards the target of your revenge. I would almost compare it to addiction. It feels fulfilling to have a tangible thing to point your rage at, and even though bottling all that vitriol away is hurting you, if you stop, it might explode in your hands."
«That's an apt way of putting it,» I mumbled, slowly losing myself in thought over that comparison.
Yura sat up straighter and cleared his throat. "Well! I take my own advice, and I believe that is a trouble that has been aired. Now I'm curious; who here has actually come to the dragoons out of altruism? Thus far it seems we have one for revenge and one for family's sake, but none for the good of the realm."
Elvild tentatively raised a hand, followed shortly after by Raisonder. «I was raised on stories of knights,» said Elvild. «Then after the civil war, I wanted to help rebuild the Vale. I would say that's altruistic enough for this question.» Raisonder spoke a few short phrases, and Elvild translated, "Raisonder says that his minders were members of the cuirassiers, and that he felt like this was redeeming. Raisonder…." The red dragon grunted a quick word, before he and Elvild got into a heated discussion in the draconic language while Sceocant watched with rapt attention, slowly sipping from their bottle gourd.
I glanced over at Griffin, whose hand had stayed conspicuously on the ground. «Griffin?» I prompted. «Did you hear Yura?»
«Oh,» said Griffin, shaking their head as though snapping out of a trance. «Yes. I didn't. Come here for good reasons, I mean.»
Yura tilted his head. "Not quite what I said, but now I'm curious. You, I thought for certain would be the helpful, selfless type. Am I wrong?"
Griffin cringed into themself. «Um. I mostly came here to learn about the stone. The dragon-shifting thing.» They tucked their wings in even tighter, to the point that they had to be compressing their lungs to fold in on themself that much. When they spoke again, it was hardly a squeak. «And to get away from my family. They didn't take it too well.»
«Ah,» I said. «I'm sorry.»
"Mhm," Griffin whimpered.
"Er, I think that that's probably enough sharing of our lives for now," said Yura. He nudged Brand with his elbow, and she brought forward a large, fine porcelain bottle covered in black and gold geometric patterns that resembled a rolling, wavy body of water, which I hadn't noticed had been concealed beneath her wing. "We brought something special. Brand and I had been intending to save it for ourselves, but this is a drink meant for sharing, and share we must when presented with such a delightful opportunity."
He then pulled a cylindrical black copper cup from his bag alongside several wooden bowls. "Apologies for the lack of drinkware to go around, as I said, I thought that it would only be Brand and me drinking tonight."
I gave the set a sidelong glance. «Why do you have just a bunch of bowls in your bag?» I asked.
"Utility," said Yura.
That cryptic response out of the way, he unstoppered the bottle and poured a very slightly cloudy colourless liquid into the glass and bowls. "I discovered that they make rice wine from the hardy rice grown in the southern reaches of the Lake Lands, and simply could not resist collecting a few bottles for my travels as I made my way to the academy. I am more than happy to share this drink with you all."
He passed the bowls around, one to every person by the fire, save for the sleeping Ingo. I took mine, swirling the drink around and staring at my reflection in its surface. It smelled strongly of alcohol. I'd never been a rice wine drinker, despite the popularity of the stuff with some of the people back in Vandermaine, but I figured that I could try it again, for Yura's sake if nothing else.
«So generous, for one recently met,» said Elvild. He took his bowl and raised it skyward. «Well, I will not turn down a gift freely given. To the Ninth Flight!»
"To the Ninth Flight!" I, Yura, and a slightly nervous Griffin echoed, and I took a drink of the wine. It was warmed by the fire, and tasted smooth and dry, with a faint hint of an almost nutty flavour. I liked it a lot more than the rice wine they had in Vandermaine. At my side, Griffin quickly gulped it down before they started choking and wheezing. I gave them a nervous glance.
«You okay?»
«Burns…» said Griffin. They shook their head, looking down at their bowl sheepishly. «I…haven't had alcohol before. I heard it burned. I didn't think that it actually burned.»
Yura let out a hearty laugh, and I gave Griffin a playful shove with my wing. "Well, what a damn good first drink to have, eh?" said Yura.
Griffin made a sour face, which only made Yura laugh harder, and infectious sound that soon caught on all around the fire. Between six dragons and one human, we finished off the bottle pretty quick, and soon we were lying on our backs, gazing up at the stars visible through the patchy cloud cover. Yura turned out to be knowledgeable on stars, asterisms, and constellations, and endlessly romantic about the heavens when he was drunk. I was content to listen as he told us the myths of how the Giantslayer and the Python were placed in the sky until I was lulled to sleep.
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«Oi! You lot! Get up, and get moving! Your flights are missing you!» A gruff voice like a rock slide shouted in my ear. The sound echoed through my skull. I hadn't quite gotten drunk enough last night to suffer a truly nasty hangover, but there was still a continuous, dull pressure inside my head that the sound of that voice and the brightness of the sunlight through my eyelids aggravated.
I blearily blinked my eyes, trying once, twice, then three times before successfully righting myself just as the others were doing the same. A new dragon stood over our camp. They were several feet taller than me, with a crest of jagged horns jutting out from the deep brown scales of their face. Swirling red gradients marked their flanks and the undersides of their wings. One bright, cherry-red eye had a scar laying over it as they held it shut.
Ingo jumped to attention. "Sir Nalezen," he said, his voice uncharacteristically nervous-sounding. "I'm so sorry. I had meant to return to my bunk, but there was a—"
The dragon, Nalezen, interrupted him with two conspicuous sniffs of the air. «It smells of alcohol,» he said with dragonspeech. «Did you all sneak out last night to drink?»
"No!" insisted Ingo.
"Yes, sir," admitted Yura, his voice sounding ten tones deeper from grogginess. "I thought it would be good to celebrate the impending trial, and happened to find some friends to celebrate with along the way."
Nalezen leaned his head down towards Yura, looking him up and down before smiling, wide and genuine. «I guess some things don't change,» he said. «Well, party or no party, you're needed at the flight yards, Ninth. Your trial is beginning any minute now.»
"Right!" said Ingo. He quickly kicked dirt over the ash of the fire pit and jumped onto Griffin's saddle, making them wobble slightly from the force of his leap before directing them into the sky.
Nalezen shook his head before he too took off, leaving me with Yura, Brand, and the dragons of the Eighth. I gave them a brisk wave.
«Bye,» I said. «Thanks for talking with us.»
«Of course,» said Elvild. «We wish you great luck in your trial, Belfry-wyrm.»
«Th-thanks?» I said, not quite sure how to interpret that title.
Elvild and his friends languidly stretched in the sunlight while Yura slung his bag over his shoulder and climbed onto Brand's back, and we both set off after Griffin towards the big test we had waited all week for.
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