Asher caught sight of Ilargo gliding over the lake, his green scales glistening in the sunlight. “How long will it be before she possesses the wisdom of her mother?”
Gideon leaned into the wall before turning to rest his back against it. “Thessaleia you said,” the old master mused. “She was likely very old and her lineage older still. It could take years, decades even, before Avandriell absorbs all the memories. She also has yours to contend with and you have more than most.”
Asher felt sorry for her in that regard. “I can’t see Malliath anymore,” he revealed.
Gideon looked at him. “You no longer carry his memories?”
“I found a way to keep them down, but they were always there. Now, after Avandriell… they’re gone. It’s as if she’s purged them.”
The old master cast a warm smile over the hatchling. “I think this is going to be the best thing that ever happened to you.”
Asher couldn’t argue as he watched Avandriell tear off a chunk of meat and devour it whole. She was the thing his life had been missing. “It makes me feel sick,” he confessed, “the idea of leaving her to go and fight. But I can’t let Alijah harm that tree.”
“I know that sense of vulnerability must be crushing,” Gideon sympathised. “She won’t be defenceless for long though,” he promised. “I’d say she’s pretty dangerous right now in fact.”
Avandriell exhaled a jet of fire and enveloped the last chunk of meat in flames before picking it apart with her sharp fangs.
“I can’t imagine what it’s like,” the master continued. “I read what I could in Drakanan but I’m sure the descriptions don’t do it justice.”
“What did they say? The Riders.”
Gideon looked out over the land, his memory casting back. “They describe an evolving bond, not dissimilar to that of a parent and child. It’s nothing like what Ilargo and I had when we met. In the beginning they said it was like becoming a mother or father - you care for your child. Then, in some ways, you become a master of sorts while you guide them in the ways of the world. Then the bond changes again and you become friends before, finally, you’re left with something akin to a brother or sister. They all said it gets easier though, once the hatchling takes on the wisdom of their parents.”
That sounded like a long way off to the ranger. “What should I expect next then?”
“She’s going to surprise you,” Gideon answered with some amusement.
“How so?” the ranger pressed, never one for surprises.
“A fundamental fact you need to know about all dragons: they’re magical in nature. In their eggs, they possess a portion of this magic, but it simply resides within them, dormant mostly. But, once they hatch, they begin to absorb magic from the other realm at a rapid rate. That abundance of energy has to go somewhere.”
Asher looked expectantly from Avandriell to Gideon. “Where does it go?” he demanded.
“Some of it will be siphoned off to you - which reminds me; you’re going to need some lessons in magic.”
The ranger resisted the urge to sigh. “And what about the rest of it?”
Gideon turned back to Avandriell. “She’s going to get big. Fast.”
Asher raised an eyebrow. “How big and how fast?”
“That’s hard to say. Her egg was sitting in Drakanan for more millennia than I can count, which might suggest there’s an awful lot of magic already flooding her bones. My physical experience with hatchlings is limited I’m afraid. Some of this you’ll have to learn as you go.”
Now that was a concept Asher was familiar with. “I’ve adapted to new situations in the past, but my life was the only thing in the balance. I don’t know any of this,” he complained, gesturing to Avandriell. “I don’t know how to help her.”
“Like Inara said: listen to your instincts.”
“My instincts have no idea what’s going on,” he confessed. “When will she fly? When can we speak to each other? Is she going to influence my thoughts?” The ranger groaned. “I’m too old for something this new.”
Gideon held up his hands to calm the situation. “You’re never too old for anything; words you should live by now that you’re immortal.” Asher threw him a look and Gideon stopped himself from laughing too much. “When will she fly?” he echoed. “Very soon. It’s instinctual, like their breath. Try not to be overly concerned with her attempts either. They have strong bones designed to take impacts. As for speaking to each other…” Gideon shrugged. “Her voice will mature the bigger she gets, but every dragon is different. Avandriell can hear your thoughts but, right now, your emotions will be communicating more than words.”
The old master paused to watch Ilargo glide past the keep. Even after all their years together, he still looked at the dragon with wonder, his devotion easy to see.
“You don’t need to worry about her influencing your thoughts,” he continued. “Avandriell is not from the line of dragons that filled the ranks of the Dragorn, so there is no elder to instruct her to do so and Ilargo certainly won’t. Your bond will be pure, just as it was meant to be. That’s not to say, however, that you won’t both influence each other as your bond grows. You will both come to share the same temperament, but always remember; Avandriell can breathe fire. That’s not to say you aren’t dangerous. But you will have to find ways to calm each other when needed.”
Asher sighed. “It all sounds so… messy.”
“That’s because it is,” Gideon confirmed. “Two minds, two souls, coming together in perfect harmony. It’s a strange way to live but, once you do, you will wonder how you ever lived any other way.”
“Will we share pain?” Asher had to ask, despite Gideon’s recent description of their bond.
“No. That kind of bond is a consequence of the influence. It
