Rise of the Darkness

Setback

Oculeera

The cold ground feels good against my back and wings, but the cold, dry air feels like it is cutting through my lungs. My tongue, devoid of any moisture, hangs from the side of my mouth as I pant. I need a drink, but I have no energy to fly to the lake for water.

Too many aerial maneuvers. Master Ingra has chosen to work with Novayar today, so I have Master Cadall to deal with. I like Master Ingra, who pushes me to my limit but never beyond. Master Cadall starts lessons at my limit and pushes me farther. How can a spirit dragon like me win an aerial fight against a well-trained fortune dragon? And he would accept nothing less. I already have used a good portion of my magic healing myself during and after my training.

Except that we are not done. Both Masters want to see our ground-based fighting skills against each other. Novayar, who only has just gained some comfort with gliding and a good bit of control over his magic, has no fighting skills at all. Mine all have come from play fighting and wrestling as a younger youngling. He does not stand a chance against me, just as I have no chance against a Master. But this hopefully is just a demonstration of our skills, or lack thereof.

Do I want to impress the Masters, or try not to humiliate Novayar too much? Not that I can do much to impress them, but I can probably pin Novayar to the ground very quickly or hold him by the neck before he can try to swipe at me. Novayar needs more confidence but the Masters need to see my abilities. Why not have us wrestle against other dragons?

Or I can just lay here, dehydrated and utterly exhausted, which should pose no threat to anyone. I need water and rest.

A few wispy cirrus clouds slowly float by, but otherwise the sky is clear. The air is dry, allowing me no chance to use magic to condense any moisture into my mouth. A large smudge of red and yellow covers the sky, casting a shadow that cools me farther. It then hits me that Master Cadall is standing next to me, head looking down at my prone self

"You need more endurance, Oculeera."

"I know," I croak.

"Individual fights never last long, but no one knows if any battling you may endure will be individual or an all-out battle. The latter requires constant action."

"I know," I croak again.

"No, you don't. You are a youngling and younglings don't know of such things. You've got stamina in your wings, but not in the rest of you."

"Okay..."

"Here's some water."

My eyes catch sight of a large blob of water hovering next to Master's head just as it starts falling. I open my mouth, hoping some falls in.

"Eerrgg, cold!" I exclaim after swallowing.

"You have magic, do you not?"

"Uh, yes."

"Whatever. You have ten more minutes to rest up."

Though it all hurts from the cold, my mouth and throat no longer feel parched. I sit up and shake my mane, trying to get away from the cold water. I cannot imagine being dropped into that lake. Though I wish more would have fallen into my mouth.

Wait, magic. I have used most of mine, but moving water takes little. I imagine the water in the puddle and on me in a ball like the one Master dropped on me. Very quickly a ball forms, though not as big as before. I blow a small flame on it, taking a bite out of its chill.

I sip on the water as the minutes tick by. Slowly energy returns to my body, though I am far from well rested. My mind, however, races through the many play fights I participated in as a younger dragon. Just in case I am asked to demonstrate my skills against one of the Masters, or if Novayar has more experience than he should.