The Dragons Queen Saga

Part 28: The Will of a Dragon

"Ardent!" He screamed, flailing against the sky. Dresden panicked and flapped his wings as fiercely as he could. The fall alone was terrifying. Rocky ledges speeding closer as he dropped, and if his body didn't work immediately, he would be thrashed by the force of the impact. Dresden focused on righting himself in midair, fighting against the air whizzing past him. He reached out with his claws, his body undulating in the current.

A force slammed into him so hard, so instantly, it knocked him out cold. By the time he woke, the sun was casting evening shadows on the mountains above him. He could still see quite far below, but his vision was fuzzy and his head felt like it had been slammed into the mountainside. His legs were too shaky to stand on, so he sat, like a cat, testing his wings while he regained his senses. His long dragon neck craned hard over the edge to gaze up at the opening of the crevice. Ardent hadn't followed him. He couldn't see the top of the cliff from where he'd landed. Tucked up against the mountainside, he had only a little shelter from the elements. At least, in Dragon form, the cold could not penetrate his scaly flesh. He would be safe from that discomfort at least, but he could not transform into a man or being naked he would die of cold, his one and only weakness in that form.

"You will either fly or fail. There is no other way." He ran Ardent's words over in his mind while he sat uncomfortably on the tiny ledge. His joints were shuddering from the collision, but that soon subsided. He remembered how on BasNassal as well as Numa, that fledglings, baby Dragons, would be tossed from high cliffs at the moment they would learn to fly. There were very few who could not pass this kind of test. Like birds, their instincts took over and they would use their bodies as nature had intended, and they would take to the air. Dresden could not be expected to reproduce those kinds of results in his current condition. He was wounded, deeply, and in a way that nature might not be able to fix with instinct. He curled up like a cat and let himself fall asleep again so he could recover.

To his surprise he dreamed. It was the same dream he'd had when he'd coughed up the ingot. He was flying over the mountainous ranges of Numa. He could feel the sensation of wind underneath his wings. The power of the sky, the freedom of flight. He could go for miles this way, perhaps half a day or longer, just roaming over the landscape. His mind was also free. He thought only one thing.

"How am I dreaming?" He had never had a dream while in his Dragon from. Perhaps this was the result of spending too much time in a human body, a side effect of that choice. He didn't have much time to ponder it, when he felt himself hit something hard and he woke to the darkness of the mountain and the precarious ledge that sheltered him. He inspected the mountainside once more, this time considering the possibility of scaling the cliff. His claws were sharp enough if he could get a hold of something that would support his weight. He reached up and grabbed a rock jutting out of the wall behind him. When he pulled, it came off in his claws. That wasn't going to work.

He knew what it felt like to fly. He knew what his body was unwilling to do. How could he override his physical condition? He looked far into the blackness below. He could not see the ground, only the looming dark that filled every crevice around him. Instantly he got to his feet, set his mind sharply on the task. "Fly or fail, there is no other way," he told himself grimly. Then with all his might, he kicked off hard from the ledge, and spread his wings.

At first, he glided just past the mountain wall, just far enough to reach open air. Then he flapped his stubborn wings hard, and began to fall, but he flapped them over and over again. He was not gaining. His legs began to flail against the inevitable. He gritted his teeth, bearing down as hard as he could on the shoulder that would not heal. He fought the wind, he fought his own fears and he fought the idea of failing.

As he plummeted to his death, his mind suddenly cleared, he could see the craggy ground coming up fast below him. He could feel the air whipping against his body. He straightened out, stretched into the wind and allowed it to carry him. He glided, ever so gently, the wind supporting his wings just enough to keep him in the air. He wasn't gaining, but he also wasn't falling now. Then he tested his wings once more, he flapped into the current, lifted his head and neck with each push. He felt the air rising around him. The landscape receded as he climbed. He used the wind like a ladder, lifting him to higher rises. He struggled against his own thoughts, pushed them back far enough to keep himself in his body, set hard in his will. He was steadily climbing, slowly, steadily rising up towards the cliff tops. He smiled, grinning wide into the dark night, feeling the freedom within him. Without warning he heard a sickening snap as his shoulder crunched suddenly, twisting his wing into an unnatural position. He growled into the night, clenched the pain between his teeth and bore down harder. He refused to die this way. Every ounce of energy spent in righting the injured wing. It was not broken, but realigned now. He felt the place where Ardent had worked so hard to heal, something had been dislodged, that was back in place once again. He tugged harder, rising up above the mountains, and into the clouds, the cliff edge growing smaller with every intentional flap of his wings. Then he let go, and glided among the foggy cover gracefully. He let out a bellow from deep within his belly that reverberated through the hills below. His shoulder was working properly, finally.

"I guess a little push was all it took." He said to himself, half jokingly about what Adrent had done. He doubled back to the camp to find Ardent curled up on the cliff edge right where Dresden had been resting before he'd been thrown off of it. He came in hard and fast. Ardent saw him and got to his feet. Dresden did not wait for Ardent to bolster himself before he dived right into him, barreling him over, nearly taking out the yurt as they flipped over one another. He positioned himself on top of Ardent and began punching him in the jaw with both his scaly fists. Ardent was laughing from underneath as his head swung from side to side with each blow, his antlers scraping the ground, leaving deep grooves in the earth and stone.

"Get off me, you donkey's arse! You're obviously fine." He managed to say between strikes. Dresden threw a few more punches before letting him up, then added a kick to the ass as Ardent rose to his feet.
"You have a temper to rival any human woman I've met so far, my friend." He continued chuckling to himself as he left Dresden and headed for the yurt, rubbing his sore jaw. Dresden took a few deep breaths before following. He found his clothes bundle waiting for him just inside the doorway. He also noticed the tea steaming on the night table next to his bed. Ardent was grinning, wearing only the white tunic. Dresden noticed thatArdent had added extra furs to his own bed on the other side of the table.

"Shall we talk about why you felt the need to throw me off the cliff?" Dresden broke in, glaring at Ardent with fury, even though he felt quite satisfied with himself for achieving the impossible.

Ardent smiled widely enough to see his sharp canines. He chuckled again between steam rising from the tea between his hands, fleeing from his breath.

"Dresden, you continue to impress me." Was all he chose to say with closed eyes.

"Oh shut it, you lizard stag! I could have died. You had no way of knowing I would be able to use this wing at all."

Ardent tipped his head and scrunched up his features. "I was given a puzzle to solve, and it just took me a while to find the correct piece."

"You what?" Dresden inquired.
"I knew you would figure it out. It took me some time to understand what Lazarus meant, but once I did, it became clear what I needed to do."
Dresden did not want to hear about anything Lazarus might have said. He wanted to sleep for a week, to shred a grizzly bear, to roll in some of the softest sand and light a forest on fire with his breath. He wanted to rage properly in Dragon form and get it out of his system. Dresden wanted to be madder than he had ever recalled being, just for spite.

"Lazarus assured me that you would make a full recovery, regardless of how I approached your healing. Kindness wasn't working. I had to take an extreme measure."
"You threw me off the cliff, you dolt!"