The air was chilled and moist; even with the summer sun hovering above, Cain shivered. He worried he’d never get used to the cold, slashing winds of flight. Silently, he wished for his winter tunic. Though, at the very least, it took his mind off of the image that was now scorched into his mind.

  That night was the first night he didn’t see his fathers bloody, disfigured face in his dreams. Initially, he tried to keep it from Kryn, but it was impossible to hide his discomfort, and she helped him through it by teaching him meditation along with her subtle touches in his mind. Her presence gave him a comfort no one else had before.

  “Hold firm, my dear. We are near a town where we can gather supplies,” Kryn said, her voice muffled by the raging wind.

  A week had passed since he and Kryn fled the cave. They walked the first day, but started flying together the next. While difficult, Kryn flew slowly and cautiously until he could stay on her back for a long period of time.

  Cain could not fathom where they might be. They could still be near his old village, they could be halfway across the world. Though, it would make no difference to Cain. His faith in Kryn did not waver. She knew where she was going; she had a plan for them not just to survive, but to thrive.

  When on the ground, they continued their training and studies, which included morphing parts of his body to hers. They started with their eyes. The world became bright and beautiful through her eyes. All the detail and intricacies came into focus and made everything wonderful. For the first time, Kryn was confused. According to her, she could see less colors despite the enhanced vision. Perhaps it was true, but Cain did not see it that way. His life had always been dull and lifeless. Through her, his world was whole.

  The sounds he heard when they shared ears was overwhelming. It was something he would have to get used to, Kryn told him. Now, they were working on her claws. In the brief time he could maintain his focus, he could wield her claws when he sparred with whatever object Kryn set up. It was much more efficient and effective than using his fists, but it was something he could only maintain for a brief period. Kryn did not tell him why, but it would get better with time.

  Cain did wonder sometimes where Kryn learned everything. She was smart and intuitive, more so than anyone he had ever met. Since there was no school in his village, that was not a high bar to beat. He would never tell the dragon that, though. He did, however, want to ask where she learned everything, but for some reason, he felt it was a subject not to be discussed yet.

  Cain broke free from his thoughts as the town came into view. From their height, he could see every building, road and person. Homes were neatly placed around a central road that was lined with shops and taverns. All of which encircled a clock tower that dwarfed any building he had ever seen. Surrounding the town was a wall built of stone, taller than the homes that sat against it. While Kryn thought it was but a tiny, futile defensive structure, Cain marveled at its size. None of what he saw was in his small, insignificant town. He was seeing the world anew.

  As they descended toward a clearing outside the town —a league away as Kryn described— the air warmed and Cain felt his muscles relax. He questioned why they would not land in or closer to town. “It would be unwise to reveal ourselves to a large crowd. A random dragon could unnerve the people and questions would be raised. We should remain inconspicuous while we resupply.”

  Once they landed, Cain slid off Kryn’s back and stretched his aching legs and arched his stiffened back. Only when he was forced to carry buckets of milk across town did he ever feel his back crack as much as it just did.

  When Cain felt loose, and Kryn relaxed, they fused. Kryn conjured a mental image in Cain’s mind: a still memory of the terrain from above, creating a makeshift map. With that, she showed Cain the best route to take. It was hazy, but with her guidance, he made his way.

  Cain was still surprised at the strength he gained when Kryn shared her magic. It allowed him to traverse the rough, swampy terrain with ease, arriving at the road leading to the gate in about half an hour. Using the newfound strength, Cain snuck under, and clinged to the bottom of a carriage entering the town.

  Beyond the gate, at Kryn’s word, Cain dropped to the ground and rolled away. When he saw no one paid him any mind, he took in his surroundings.

  Even being on the outskirts of the city, the crowd was overwhelming. In contrast to his quiet, sparsely populated town, the city was bustling with hurried people trampling over each other. It was utter chaos. The ground rumbled with stomp of hundreds, no thousands of feet, creating a roar of noise that rivaled even a dragon’s. Cain couldn’t fathom how to navigate the hoard. Kryn said something, but the noise, combined with the weight of his own anxiety, muffled her voice.

  Driven by panic, he found the nearest alley and dove behind a sack of waste and rubbish. The rancid stench almost felt familiar, which calmed him some, but his mind was racing at speeds nigh impossible.

  His chest heaved, legs wobbled as he slowly sat. He pulled his knees to his chest and he pressed his back against the wall. His heart pounded so hard, he felt it drum against the bricks.

  The world around him spun. Nothing was right. There was no path forward. Everything was chaotic. He was lost, scared and alone.

  ‘You are not alone, my dear.’ Kryn’s voice eased into his mind, soothing and passionate.

  Cain’s surroundings started to stabilize and the fog of his mind receded. The noise of the crowd became muffled and he felt he could finally focus. All thanks to Kryn; her presence was everything he needed.

  “Sorry, I… I don’t know what happened,” he said aloud.

  ‘Talk within your mind, Cain. As we did before.’

  Cain shook his head. ‘Oh, right… sorry.’

  ‘Pay no mind, my dear.’ As if she were physically there, she gave him a nudge within his conscious. ‘This must be a lot to take in; exceedingly active compared to your quiet village. Take a moment to adapt, then I will guide you to where we need to go.’

  Cain nodded and took a heavy breath.

  ‘Just… perhaps not here. We share senses, remember?’

  His cheeks flushed. He may have been accustomed to the horrid stench, but Kryn was not. He could feel her repulsion at the wretched stench.

  After he moved away from the rubbish, he gathered himself and Kryn slowly eased his senses back to normal. When he was comfortable with the noise, Kryn guided him through the crowd and into the town square. It was as if half the previous crowd ceased to exist.

  Many people gathered around the tall, imposing clock tower, unnerving Cain. Kryn hummed curiously.

  ‘When I flew overhead a fortnight ago, the crowd was thinner. Perhaps there is a special occasion or celebration?’ Cain’s mind started to wander at the possibilities, but Kryn denied his curiosity. ‘We must be quick if we are to gather supplies and leave before nightfall.’

  They took a wide berth around the clock tower to avoid whatever commotion drew the crowd. On the other side of the city center they continued down the main road for a minute and stopped at a shop. It looked massive from Cain’s perspective, though so did every other shop they passed and it did nothing to stand out from the others. Cain questioned why they came to this shop above all the others if they were trying to be quick, but Kryn avoided the question, imploring him to trust her. He did.

  The shop was filled with a variety of supplies, varying from foods to medicinal herbs to tunics. A shop for adventurers Cain guessed. A few adventurers visited his town every now and again, and this was the kind of gear they equipped. After gathering a basket of fruits and a canteen, Kryn urged him to find something new to wear.

  It took some convincing; his tunic was the only gift he received when he turned ten and five. A gift from the local seamstress given his old clothes barely fit him. His father was never going to purchase or make new clothing for him, so the seamstress took pity on poor Cain. It was the only thing he wore in the last two years. It wasn’t much of a tunic, more like a potato sack, as Kryn described it.

  Cain begrudgingly browsed the small clothing section. He picked out a drab, but whole tunic. Next to it was a dark cloak with subtle navy spirals woven into it. His eyes lingered on it. How nice would it be to have? It would keep him warm during their flights and no longer would he look like a beggar.

  ‘Take it if you want,’ Kryn said.

  ‘There is no chance I have the gold for it.’ That’s when he realized he had no gold. No silver. Nothing. How would they buy supplies with no coinage?

  ‘Worry not, my dear. Just take it.’

  His hand hovered over the cloak, hesitating for a moment. But Kryn’s comforting presence emboldened him. He grabbed the cloak and threw it atop the rest of their supplies, grabbing a bag and dagger to round off their extravagant shopping spree.

  With heightened nerves, he approached the lady running the shop and placed the items on the counter. She warily looked everything over, then at him and narrowed her eyes.

  “You sure you can afford this?” She asked.

  With a mental nudge from Kryn, he nodded. “Y-yes, ma’am,” he said, chewing his lower lip.

  The shop keeper sighed and scribbled something on a parchment. The runes were foreign to Cain, but Kryn recognized them as numbers, explaining to Cain that she was doing math. Soon she would teach him to read and write as well.

  “One hundred and five and thirty gold pieces.” She crossed her arms with a tired expression, as if she expected him to just walk away.

  Cain’s first instinct was to do just that. However, he felt a tingling sensation in the back of his throat and eyes. Doing as Kryn instructed in training, he closed his eyes and set his jaw. Once the magic was in place, he opened his eyes and saw with Kryn’s beautiful vision. The shop keeper jumped back with a yelp.

  “We thank you for contributing to our cause. Your generosity will be remembered, uchd inntinn,” Kryn said through Cain with a sultry tone. The odds of this woman being able to understand were slim to none. Even if she could, why would she just give them these supplies? Then Cain sensed a stream of magic leave his mind and hover toward the shopkeeper.

  Her eyes glossed over and her posture straightened. “I… of course, little one… The pleasure is mine,” she said with drawn out enunciation.

  The magic lingered, but Cain’s own vision returned when he blinked. He quickly grabbed the items and briskly exited, dipping into a nearby alley.

  ‘What… what was that?’ Cain asked.

  ‘Worry not, my dear, we are supplied for the journey ahead.’

  ‘But that felt… wrong.’

  ‘She had everything, we had nothing. Is that itself not wrong? She just required… insight, and an agreement was made.’

  Cain supposed she was right. Why should she live in comfort and hoard all of the supplies when they fight to survive with nothing of worth? Perhaps one day he could repay the shopkeeper, though.

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  Maintaining cover in the alley, Cain changed into the new tunic and stuffed the supplies in his new bag. Despite wishing to adorn the new cloak, he stowed it in the bag so as to not attract unwanted attention. After checking for prying eyes, they returned to the streets.

  Kryn showed him a path to the western gate so they could leave town and start their journey again. To where, Kryn had not told Cain, but she promised it would be worth the trouble.

  As they rounded the clock tower again, Cain was struck by the scent of grass, as if he had just entered a freshly cut field. Then he felt a stinging pain in his chest that made him double over and heave. It felt as if someone had punctured his ribs and squeezed his heart.

  It lasted for a few seconds before he felt Kryn’s magic rush to surround his quickened heart, waging a battle with whatever intruded. He rose to his knees, breathing heavily and curious onlookers encircled him.

  ‘What… what was—’

  ‘We must leave, now!’ She said anxiously.

  ‘Kryn, what is—’

  ‘Cain, run!’

  He stood and then felt a hand on his shoulder. Kryn uttered a curse as Cain turned to see a tall, gangly man towering above him, a smirk on his face. His long, bony fingers gripped him with brute strength, pinning him in place.

  “Hello, youngling. Care to chat?”

  ? ? ? ?

  Evelyn’s eyes snapped open. She sat up quickly, her breath heavy and laboured. Beads of sweat rolled down her face. So too was Lumin dazed from the dream that became nightmarish. The image of the gangly man standing over them haunted Evelyn’s vision.

  It had been so long since their last dream, Evelyn had nearly forgotten about Cain and Kryn. Whatever force was sending these dreams, it wanted to ensure they remembered. And remember they would.

  “I didn’t like that… I didn’t like that at all,” Lumin said nervously.

  “Me either,” Evelyn whispered. “But we need to tell Isak.”

  “Tell Isak what?”

  Evelyn jumped from Lumin’s side and her legs got caught in the blanket. Entangled, she fell face first into the nesting of the pen. Lumin whirled around and nudged her side to check on her. With a groan of embarrassment, she assured him that she was fine.

  With his help, she rose to her knees and wiped her face. No blood, just a layer of dust with strands of hay stuck to her cheek.

  “A blanket out here is a terrible idea for this very reason.” Evelyn looked up to see Riley with her arms crossed. “Now that he’s grown some, let Lumin cover you with his wing.”

  Evelyn and Lumin looked at each other. His eyes seemed to glow at the idea. She berated herself for not thinking of that sooner.

  “Thanks, we’ll try that tonight. What are you doing here? This isn’t the training cavern.”

  Riley hummed. “Answer me first. What are you telling Isak?”

  Evelyn bit her lip and looked at Lumin. The dragon looked at Riley, then back at Evelyn and shrugged with a head tilt as if to say why not.

  She pushed her hair to the side and sighed. If anyone was trustworthy enough to know, it’s Riley, Evelyn thought.

  “This is going to sound a bit weird, but…”

  Evelyn went on to explain their shared dreams. Any detail or gap in information she missed or left out, no matter how mundane, Lumin mentioned. Even with his astute mind, she was surprised he remembered so much from the dreams.

  Riley listened thoughtfully. Once Evelyn finished, Riley rubbed her chin and considered the information. “I’ve never heard of such a thing happening, though you two seem to share a unique bond. Isak said he’d tell you more once you share this latest dream with him?”

  “Mhm. I don’t know if I should be concerned or not.”

  “Too bad Isak is preoccupied, which is actually why I came to find you. The last egg is about to hatch. I assumed you would want to be there.”

  “Really? That’s amazing!” She looked at Lumin, who’s tail thumped the ground.

  “I think the dream can wait,” he said. They fused and followed Riley into the nursery.

  Inside the nursery, Isak, Violet and Norah encircled the egg as it rested upon its moist nest while Landon laid in his bed with Rjuka sitting guard next to him. Riley joined Violet while Evelyn stood by the door, watching from afar.

  Just like when Rjuka hatched, Evelyn eagerly watched, but feared getting in the way. While the hatching itself was great, she also studied Norah throughout the process. Thankfully, Lumin didn’t mind Evelyn taking her gaze away from the egg to the healer, also wanting to learn.

  The egg wobbled, then wobbled more. The dragonet inside was becoming restless. Everyone watched intensely, waiting for the first… CRACK.

  A thin line formed on the outer shell, slicing through the purple waves. Norah smiled from ear to ear while both potential riders watched anxiously, Isak with a small grin as he seemed to enjoy Violet and Riley’s anxiety. Landon sunk into his pillow, seemingly uninterested. Rjuka did his best to imitate Landon’s indifference, but Evelyn noticed him shift his gaze to the egg multiple times.

  With everyone so focused on the egg, no one else seemed to notice the loud thud just outside. Camadh stuck her head through the side window a few feet from the nests.

  Just like with Rjuka, a sparkle in her eye flickered when she gazed upon the egg. Everything else about the dragon, her posture, her frown, the bags under her eyes, told Evelyn Camadh’s thoughts still lingered on her brother, though.

  It was awkward for Evelyn as she did not think it would be right for her to be near Camadh, but she was still glad the dragon had the will to witness both eggs hatch.

  Eventually, Riley noticed, and acknowledged the dragon, then turned to Evelyn with a reassuring nod.

  A second crack lined the egg. A third crack, then a fourth. The egg rattled and shook as the dragonet desperately tried to escape. Then, with a bang, the shell shattered into tiny, jagged pieces that collapsed into the nesting, unlike Rjuka’s explosion of shards.

  Sitting in the scattered remains of the shell was a purple dragon. Her tail curled around her was disproportionally thick and looked identical to Safir’s. She stretched and made groggy gibberish noises. Once loose, she opened her beady green eyes.

  Seeing this, Evelyn’s heart melted. It made her hope that one day, they could witness every hatchling's arrival into the world. A small pang of jealousy through their bond told her that Lumin did not share the sentiment.

  She gave him a gentle mental nudge. ‘Just enjoy these moments, Lumin. Who knows how many more we will get.’ He grumbled in response, but muted his emotions.

  Though, she understood where it came from. Knowing he could view her memories, and despite her warning not to, she figured he saw his own hatching. Instead of a warm and joyful hatching like now, his was frightful and stressful with only a few seconds of elation strewn in. Then there was the aching loss of her home and her father —she still held hope he was alive, but it was fleeting. If only there were a way to relive that day and be able to truly appreciate the life that began, the life that changed hers.

  At least someone would experience the bliss of their partner hatching today.

  Riley and Violet knelt down to eye level with the hatchling as Norah began her examination. Both remained relatively calm, though Evelyn could sense their nerves.

  Norah’s examination was typical of any newborn animal Evelyn had experienced: a physical inspection on top of noting her vital signs, weight and size. The hatchling whined, but at least she did not nip at Norah like Rjuka did. The biggest difference from other animals Evelyn noticed was a device the healer used to measure the flow rate of magic. She didn’t have it for Rjuka’s hatching, but managed to procure one on her last trip back to her empire job. All it required was a dragon scale to power, and Lumin was all too eager to give his to see the device work.

  Once Norah was satisfied, she backed away, allowing the aquafin to roam freely within the nursery. Evelyn double checked the door was shut. The last thing anyone needed was a hatchling running amuck in the base.

  She stood and wobbled, carefully taking her first steps. With her large tail dragging along the stone floor, she started exploring her surroundings. At first, she ignored everyone, choosing to investigate the beds and nesting, taking a wide berth around Landon and Rjuka, the latter doing a poor job of masking his disappointment.

  Anticipation was thick in the air. Everyone knew the hatchling didn’t have to choose a rider today, in fact, she didn’t have to choose at all. Isak reassured Riley and Violet that scenario was highly unlikely, though Evelyn could sense his uneasiness about that prospect. Bringing a dragon here without her bonding would be a huge blow to their mission.

  After sniffing and clawing at just about every inanimate object in the room, her curiosity about the humans overtook her apparent anxiety. First, she approached Isak. He did not protest, just smiled and nodded at the hatchling.

  Next, the hatchling waddled to Evelyn, making her nervous. Not only was she worried she’d frighten the little dragon, but now all eyes were on her, including Camadh. She was not the person the hatchling should approach. Say hello to Riley, not me, she thought.

  Evelyn crouched to greet her anyway. “Hello there. It’s nice to meet you.” The dragonet sniffed Evelyn’s chest and tilted her head. She glanced back at Isak then at Landon and Rjuka, and back to Evelyn. With her nose, she poked at Evelyn’s chest, tilted her head and chirped curiously.

  ‘Maybe she senses our bonds?’ Lumin suggested inquisitively.

  ‘You think so?’

  ‘It’s possible. I can sometimes sense Rjuka when he’s fused. Perhaps she senses me and Safir.’

  That made Evelyn wonder if she could sense bonds as well. She reached her mind out to her surroundings, hoping to feel Safir. Nothing came, so she returned her attention to the now frowning hatchling.

  “Do you sense our dragons?” Evelyn asked, pointing to her heart.

  The aquafin’s head tilted to the other side. A wordless moment passed. When she didn’t get the information she seemingly wanted, she stumbled toward Riley and Violet to Evelyn’s relief. As she approached, her ears twitched and her head perked up. She sat a few feet from the pair and looked between them, a curious coo escaping her.

  Isak inched forward, and so did Norah. Camadh’s head lifted slightly, even Landon shifted his gaze. Everyone sensed it.

  The dragonet yearned for a bond.

  For an agonizing few minutes, she shifted her gaze from Riley to Violet, back to Riley and back to Violet. Evelyn felt her heart pounding and imagined theirs were beating even harder.

  It was wrong, she knew, to hope for one outcome over the other, but she couldn’t help it. Riley would be an amazing rider, and Evelyn looked forward to training with her with dragons in their hearts.

  Finally, the tension constricting the air vanished as the dragonet approached her rider.

  Violet's eyes glowed with joy as the purple dragon nudged her snout against her palm. A small ebb of magic emanated from the pair. Since Evelyn did not witness Rjuka bond with Landon, it was the first time she felt the sensation.

  “Good choice, girly. We’re gonna make great partners,” Violet said with a wide smile. Her dragon chirped in response, rolling her tail back and forth.

  Isak and Norah congratulated Violet, startling the newly bonded dragon. Landon clapped his hands a few times then laid back and placed his hand on Rjuka’s head. Even Camadh managed a smile. The only one who didn’t react was Riley.

  Her expression remained neutral, but Evelyn saw the devastation in her eyes.

  Evelyn knew she would witness one of them experience disappointment, and she cursed herself for causing it —Lumin silently scolded her for self-deprecation. For it to be Riley, though, made it sting just a bit more.

  “Congradulations, Vi,” Riley said after a minute with forced enthusiasm.

  Violet smiled and gave her a quick nod before serenading her dragon with affection. Riley set her jaw and turned on her heels, calmly leaving the nursery.

  Evelyn figured she was the only one who watched her leave and felt obliged to follow and comfort her, but, like with Camadh, felt she would be the last person Riley wanted to talk to.

  At the edge of her vision, she saw Camadh peering at the front door. The groundclaw’s eyes mimicked Riley’s. The groundclaw must have known that with this outcome, Riley would have likely bonded with her brother, but that was a fruitless thought.

  Camadh’s gaze drifted to Evelyn, and their eyes met for the first time since Camadh arrived. It seemed to Evelyn that, despite her anguish, her loss, her hollowness, she was silently inquiring about Riley.

  Expecting disdain and anger from Camadh, Evelyn could only hang her head apologetically. She braced for the groundclaw’s hateful stare.

  But it didn’t come.

  Instead, she gently nodded and retracted her head from the nursery. It wasn’t a nod of forgiveness, Evelyn gathered, but it was of acceptance. Accepting Evelyn was at fault, but there was nothing to be done now; acknowledging any hatred or anger would ruin this moment.

  Despite how Evelyn felt about Violet, she, nor her dragon deserved to have this moment tainted by grudges or past mistakes. So Evelyn let them both go and retreated to the corner of the room, watching the celebration.

  Lumin’s mind still lingered on Riley. ‘Shouldn’t we go after her?’ He asked.

  ‘We should give her space. It would be selfish to chase her. We will see her in the morning.’ If they had training that day, Evelyn assumed Riley would be exempt.

  Lumin hummed in response, and they watched as Violet started pitching names for the aquafin.