𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐄𝐏𝐓𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒

𝐬𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐦 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐬

Watching the dragon in front of her impatiently huff in her direction, wasn't making Isolde feel a hundred percent confident about their first flight. She was soon realising that the wooden log that was meant to mimic the mounting of a dragon in the Gauntlet was clearly not thinking about the assorted sizes of dragons.

"Not to be rude or anything but I don't think this is logistically going to work out." Isolde spoke aloud to the dragon in front of her. "It seems imperative to let you know that you have no choice in the matter. We are bonded and therefore we are bound to one another, so mount." The ground rumbled beneath her as he took a step back.

A sigh dropped out of her chest as she tried to produce a legitimate method of getting onto the dragon. She stalked away from it and released a large breath before running towards him and climbing up his leg. Thighs burning, she flipped herself over and fell into the groove of its back and placed her hands carefully atop of the matte scales.

She did it. "Of course you did, I am not in the habit of picking weak riders. Now pay attention and hold on." Without much more of a warning, the dragon kicked off into the air leaving Isolde to bring her chest to his back so that she was able to hold on. After years had been shaved off of her life, he levelled out and started to soar through the sky.

As they cut through the air the adrenaline that was previously coursing through her body had started to relent, leaving her to feel the pain in her head alongside wounds on her back that had started to split open from all of the movement. "Are you often injured?" The slow drawl she was starting to get used to, filled her head.

"Not really. It just tends to be the same injuries that never seem to fully heal, and I don't know why." Isolde replied using their mental bond. He didn't reply but instead changed the topic of conversation.

"My name is Tairneanach, son of Murtcuideam and Fiaclanfuil, descended from the cunning Dubhmadinn line." Isolde tasted the name and winced at her botched pronunciation. "I'll work on it. I am Lysandra Aritia." Tairneanach dove down, hurtling towards the ground making Isolde lose her grip.

"Do not lie to me Isolde Sola Vayne. I am within your mind; I am aware of everything you have said and done as if they were my own thoughts." Her cheeks turned red from embarrassment, but she spoke no further on the matter. "We will need to complete a sequence of movements in order to demonstrate our bond and then we will be able to land, hold on and you should be alright."

Tairn took the both of them through simple flight manoeuvres whilst Isolde questioned what his definition of easy was, because she had never felt weaker in her life. In response, he grumbled something about how he should have skipped Threshing this year.

Silence enveloped the space around the two of them, and it made for a comfortable environment for Isolde to begin doubting herself. Now that she had bonded, did that make her safe. Would she become more of a target now that she would be trained up to go on missions? Why did Tairneanach pick her? She was weak and a liar. No one in their right mind would be her friend at Basgiath if they truly knew who she was so why did he?