The Final Storm (Part 3)

Jaydon the Punch Bag

 Ryan sighed as he steadied the heavy lance in his cramping hand. They’d been at it all day and still Lauri wanted more. “When you’re a Rider, that doesn’t mean you just ride on your dragon and laugh as he does all the work for you. You fight! You’re aware and you always have your dragon’s back. You fight as one. Let me demonstrate.”  She was astride Vali, who was fully tacked in fearsome dragon armor, making her look even scarier than before. A spike, not unlike a unicorn horn protruded from the armor protecting her skull along with a ling of spikes running down the plates on her neck and tail. Armor shone on her sides and legs, shifting as she pranced in place with uncharacteristic energy. Lauri was also in full armor, her helmet sporting a plume that shivered slightly in the wind. In her hand, she easily held her ridiculously long lance straight up in the air, where it hovered at twenty feet high.

Then Vali broke into a run, charging at the string of human-shaped hay targets which were moved by a series of ropes and a strange machine which a man cranked wildly as the huge dragon approached. Ryan was amazed at how silent the armor was as Vali’s body coiled and shot forward in crazy spurts. It should be impossible. But he had always known that Vali was more in tune with her magic than most other dragons. Still, her effortless beauty and power was enough to make his jaw go slack. Lauri lowered her lance, impaling the first hay target at an easy sixty miles an hour. The second one swung from a rope, running from the palace roof to the training grounds. Vali reared onto her hind legs, roaring as if she were amidst a real battle. Lauri hung on using only her legs, her braid vertical to the ground. She stabbed the target neatly through the middle before it could fly past.

The rest went by in a flurry of motion that even Ryan could hardly see. Lauri and Vali are a terror, Thistle said gravely, I’d hate to be on her bad side.

Ryan knew what he was talking about. He couldn’t help but steal a glance towards the ice dragon and Rider as they stood silent as stone next to them, watching with all the ferocity of a hawk eyeing a rabbit. They had hardly talked the whole time, even when Thistle had tried to make a conversation with Fraylon. The ice dragon, usually so pleasant and personable was now as cold and distant as his Rider.

It didn’t fool Ryan, though. When Thistle and him flew up to their room, they almost always passed Daemon’s room. And especially when they were returning from late-night patrolling, they would find Fraylon on the balcony, keening to the soft moon. When he did this, his voice would rise so high that humans couldn’t hear it. But Ryan and his dragon could. It was one of the most beautiful sounds Ryan had ever heard, both heart wrenching and mysterious. He had heard it before, many years ago in the icy realm of Grunde. It was the call of an ice dragon that had lost something very dear to him. He was grieving.

But now Ryan could recognize something new in his soft blue eyes. A hardness, like his heart was coated in a thick layer of ice to protect his fragile, hurting heart. Ryan was concerned by this. No matter what the pain you are going through you go through it with your dragon or Rider. You never harden your heart against them or things are bound to go ill. He brought it up to Thistle. Don’t tell anyone I said this but I feel like they were never the best match. Yes, I know that opposites can work- just look at Ralem and Jaydon. They are polar opposites yet they are such a great pair. But Daemon just doesn’t seem to be of Rider material. I know he must love Fraylon, but… I don’t know. Something’s not right about them.

Thistle caught what he was thinking and swished his tail agitatedly. We must not be so quick to judge. Okay, they’ve been a bit more frosty lately but that’s because they’ve been through a lot. We’d probably be the same way if it was us.

No we wouldn’t. Okay, it would stink, but still we’d have each other. But they seem to have closed each other out, trying to go through this alone. That can’t be good.