The ranger opened his mouth to speak again but quickly sealed his lips. Can you hear me? he asked through their bond.
Of course, the dragon replied. I have heard quite a lot while you have been sleeping the day away.
Asher was still too stunned at hearing her voice to defend himself. Instead, he remained quiet and hoped to hear more of it.
Our enemy has been found, she stated, revealing some of the fierce warrior that her mother, Thessaleia, had imparted to her. I heard a report given to Inara, she continued. Ravens from both Dunwich and Darkwell have arrived with news of Reaver tracks entering The Vrost Mountains. Inara and Athis believe Alijah and Malliath are holed up in The Bastion, biding their time.
Asher had to shake his head to catch up with the details, so enthralled was he with his companion’s level of intelligence and personality. Already, the ranger could tell that Avandriell was from a fighting stock of dragons that had long served the order of the Riders in Drakanan. She thought like a predator and dreamed of the hunt. Her significant bond to Asher was what tied her to current events, making Alijah and Malliath her prey.
Again, Asher had to shake his head and blink to focus his thoughts. He felt as if he could fall into Avandriell’s mind and way of thinking for days. There were parts of her that just came to him without question or reason.
We have today, she informed him, but The Rebellion is moving on from Palios at dawn. We will meet up with Doran before taking the fight to the enemy. Avandriell looked away for a moment, her mind flitting through Asher’s countless memories of the infamous Heavybelly. I think I will like the dwarf, she remarked offhandedly. He would make for a good Rider.
Asher couldn’t help his scoff. Doran would disagree. As would his dragon… he added with amusement.
A rapid guttural sound resonated from Avandriell’s throat as she shared in the joke. You are not wrong, she agreed.
Asher laughed all the more. I can’t believe we’re actually talking to each other. It doesn’t seem real.
Avandriell lowered her head until the flat of her snout was within the ranger’s reach. Does this feel real?
With his free hand, Asher pressed his palm to her scales and felt the warmth within them. They weren’t as smooth as he recalled, when she was no bigger than a dog. Now, her bronze scales had a weathered texture to them and felt harder.
You are not alone anymore, good ranger. I live in you. And you live in me. There is nothing of the sky or earth that can come between us. We are free.
Those last three words struck a chord in Asher and he retrieved his hand so that Avandriell could raise her head to see him. We are free, he repeated.
The dragon tilted her head again. What was it you said? I am ranger. Yes. I like that. My mother and father have memories of dragons who lived free of the order. They were known as rogues; dangerous and territorial creatures who could not be trusted. But rangers live by a code. I have seen that in you. It would be a life no other dragon has ever known. Quite an adventure, she concluded with delight. Yes. I am ranger.
We are rangers, Asher emphasised.
Though nothing changed on her face, Asher could sense the pleasure that resided within his companion. Perhaps, Avandriell suggested, if you’re done bleeding everywhere, we could find somewhere quiet to rest together. Somewhere we can talk.
Unlike the dragon, Asher displayed his pleasure with a contented smile. I would enjoy that, he replied, limping away from the gardens beside her. What would you like to talk about?
Oh… everything.
Asher let out a short sharp laugh. Everything sounds good.
51
Home is Where the Heart Is
Descending beneath the clouds, Gideon Thorn was met by the white cliffs of The Shining Coast. The jagged cliff stretched from north to south, beyond even that of Ilargo’s vision. To millions of others, it would have been a welcoming sight, to see those white walls and know they were home.
It didn’t feel like home to Gideon.
He had lived in many places during his life; enough to have good and bad memories of Illian, Ayda, and even Erador. They had all felt like home at one point or another, though some had also felt like prisons. These days, home was in the sky, free of the lines drawn over the land below.
Of course, it was never the land that drew him anywhere - it was the people. He cared for the everyday lives of the families that inhabited the realm, be they humans, elves, or dwarves. He had fought and suffered for them all during his long life and the old master knew it was a habit he could never break. It was a duty that surpassed the codes of any order, a sense of responsibility that came with the power he and Ilargo both harnessed.
Perhaps, Ilargo said, we could find others who share that sense of responsibility.
Gideon looked over the snow-covered fields of Alborn, his gaze drawn to the far west. Further than any could see was Erador and, further still, was Drakanan, the ancient home of his predecessors. It was there, hidden deep in the mountain rock, that any hope might be found for a future filled with Dragon Riders.
No, Ilargo corrected, turning Gideon back to him. The hope you hold in your heart does not rest in Drakanan. It lies out there, in the vastness of Verda. Those eggs will not bond to just any. They demand a companion who embodies all the virtues of a true warrior. Nothing short of that will do.
I’m not even sure it’s the right thing to do, Gideon replied. We’ve done this before. We’ve made this same decision before. Restarting the Dragorn came from a sense of duty, regardless of the outcome. Now, I have to wonder if my heart desires
