A New Beginning: Passing The Torch

Chapter 34

Tessa's POV:

I followed Mom through the forest somewhat uneasily. I had never gone this far before, and certainly not when it was this dark. Everything was vaguely familiar, though, courtesy of my evening talks with Abby.

The deep shadows in the park weren't what was making me nervous – it was the prospect of seeing the entire flock at once. I hadn't even met a third of them yet. All of them were likely in a clearing ahead, waiting for the Morning Song to begin.

Finally, I would get to see for myself why so many bonded dragonets liked to sing with the wild flock in the morning. Mom slowed down, and I could see glints of color ahead. I snorted faintly as we passed several Kymari sitting in a tree.

"Why are there Kymari in a tree?" Dirk asked, equally as perplexed as me.

Dad glanced at them. "They like to watch. There are usually about fifty or so that turn up every day."

I wasn't sure I liked the thought of spectators during my first day with the flock, but it wasn't as if I could do anything about it. My attention was quickly captured by the numerous red, blue, purple, green, gold, and silver dragonets scattered around the clearing.

Many of them looked over as we entered the clearing, although the brightening horizon drew their gaze back quickly enough. My ear tufts perked up when I saw Serena and Tom. A closer inspection revealed that four other dragonets also wore harnesses.

Abby flew to greet me. "You made it!"

"Just in time, too!"

"Let's land on the grass by the other fledglings. It won't be long. I can already feel the call building."

Mom and Dad had already perched on a tree branch, so I followed Abby. Dirk came with us, more at ease since we knew all of the fledglings fairly well. Glen was noticeably absent, as was his father, who was remaining close to the burrow.

We fell silent as we focused on the sun that was beginning to peek over the horizon. Seconds before the light rippled, some dragonets spread their wings and took to the air. There was barely enough time for me to realize that not everyone could take off at the same moment – then the Morning Song's call suddenly strengthened.

At its beckoning, I jumped into the air along with the others. With so many dragonets taking flight, even our normally silent wingbeats were producing enough sound to be heard. It didn't matter, though – our voices immediately drowned out the faint noise.

A handful of clouds were accented in bright pink against the dark blue sky, creating a contrast that we had to somehow bring out in our song and dance. The dragonets quickly converged on the center of the clearing, turning it into a three-dimensional dancefloor.

It was almost too much to take in.

Not only was the Morning Song filling me with its usual joy and happiness that made me just want to focus on flying and singing, but now I had to also watch out for nearly a hundred and fifty other fliers in the same area. The effect of being so close to this many dragonets while they were singing was something my mind couldn't wrap itself around.

I joined the swirling mass – somehow avoiding dozens of potential collisions – as I added my own dance and song to the joyous celebration. The air around my scales shifted from close passes, but I was too caught up in the Song to really notice.

Before I knew it, the Morning Song was coming to an end. As always, I was sad to see it go. This time, the ending was more noticeable since the group effort had amplified the Song's effects.