Day 41 of the Suns season, year 2447

Soldiers threatened to cut Leith’s exposed throat. A bulky man prevented the old woman from moving by holding her arms firmly behind her back. Despite the delicate situation, she did not struggle. A simple smile of confidence dominated her face.

“I’m guessing you’re surrendering yourself?” questioned Bayrne, his hulking figure towering over his foe.

“Your Father would listen to me,” Leith replied calmly.

“Of course, he would. He was a good ruler, but as a family man, he could’ve used some council,” he ended in a snappy tone.

“He knew better. He just didn’t lift a finger for the cause.”

“What do you mean?”

“Dragons are the most important beings in Aerinda. Slaying one for a reason determined by such a poor judgment is a crime against the lands you walk on, that nourish you. And what of your own kingdom’s words? Only peace will heal.”

“People seldom know the other part. That or they choose to ignore it.”

He stepped toward her and placed the top of his sword on her neck’s fragile skin.

“Dark times bring peace.”

“Much fear is rooted in your heart.”

“You will be silent. I am done with your nonsense.”

Azéna was aware of the firmness of her adoptive father, but she was disturbed by his cruelty. She knew his intentions; he was going to kill Leith and the dragon for the sake of his kingdom’s peace.

Bayrne's anger aged him, tightening his face and accentuating the subtle wrinkles, but it also made him more threatening. Even so,

Leith remained impassive. She waited indulgently for the Lord to make his move.

Bayrne glared at the soldier who was holding her. Without words, the latter nodded and drew his sword.

“Absolutely not!” Azéna barked.

The dragon roared fiercely and rushed toward Leith. The speed with which he dove surprised Azéna. She gritted her teeth as a cold and powerful wind beat her face. In addition to this discomfort, the claws of her carrier threatened to tear her clothes. She kept her composure and looked straight ahead. The ground was fast approaching. Her blood rushed to her head and her heart pounded, filled with adrenaline.

Then, without warning, the dragon rotated. His head upside down, he opened his mouth, revealing two rows of gigantic fangs, and took a deep breath. A violent energy formed in his belly and then a brief, powerful tremor shook Azéna.

The citizens, including soldiers, panicked and fled. A powerful gust of wind lashed them. Most of the victims were pushed to the ground, including Leith and the guard holding her. The latter tried to retrieve his sword, but it slipped too far away.

The dragon rotated on itself a second time, bringing it back to its original position. One of his front paws released the teenage girl and grabbed onto Leith by the pants. He flapped his wings mightily and rose again toward the sky, leaving the stunned soldier behind.

Flying was much harder because of the extra weight on top of his injury. His heartbeat accelerated and he had to open his mouth to breathe comfortably.

Azéna just knew that she had to lead them away from there. The quietest place was usually the royal graveyard. She pointed to a dark area and the dragon redoubled his efforts.

A few arrows flew passed by them. They whistled in the teenager's sensitive ears.

“They're shooting at us! They lost their minds. Noklyssed stupid soldiers.”

His face purple with anger, Bayrne screamed and the archers

stopped their attack. He could only watch as his adopted daughter slowly disappeared in the distance.

During their journey, Leith did not say a word. Azéna couldn't help but giggle when she saw her with her head in the air and her buttocks held by the dragon's claws. The winged behemoth uttered strange and irregular growls that the teenager recognized as laughter.

“I didn't know dragons had a sense of humour.”

“Most people think they know them,” Leith explained. “They couldn’t be more blind.”

They had almost reached their destination. The dragon screamed in pain and his wings stopped beating. Azéna opened her eyes and panic surfaced. The ground became the sky.

Her blood boiling, Azéna yelled in excitement. It was as if she had been born to fly on the back of this dragon. It felt like home. She was going to be free. A sense of boldness overtook her, and she cursed the city and her father in a war cry.

In paralyzing pain, the iris-eyed dragon yelped. He could do nothing but fall.

“Watch out! The tree!” Azéna screamed.

The dragon wrapped his wings around the two women to protect them as a shield would. He managed to flip on his back just as it crashed to the ground, plowing through the earth as he went. He stopped dead in his tracks as his skull smashed through the tree.

For a long moment he lay there, stunned. Meanwhile, his proteges moved away, giving him some space.

Finally, he struggled and turned his head in all directions trying to free himself. Leith and Azéna hurried to the other side of the tree where his face was showing.

“What do we do now?” asked the rebellious girl, overwhelmed by her feelings.

“The guards are the entrance!” Leith exclaimed. “Go check if they saw us! Quickly!”

Azéna looked around and found no one.

“They never leave their posts except for a rotation. It must have been Bayrne who summoned them to the defence of the city.”

“That buys us a bit of time, but not much. They will come for us.”

The dragon whimpered. With a roar, he exhaled a gust of wind. Azéna and Leith's hair danced in the violent current. The Kindirah pushed a strand away from her face. The traveller knelt in front of the creature who was panicking. Her facial expression hardened.

“Calm yourself. Be calm, Tyrath.”

Her words soothed the young dragon who turned his gaze to Azéna. His pupil slowly dilated. He sniffed fiercely and his lips stretched strangely to form a sort of mischievous smile. His bared fangs intimidated the teenager. She flinched. A single bite could break her fragile body in two.

“Tyrath?” muttered Azéna, a feeling of wonder overcoming her.

But why and how did Leith know his name?

The silver dragon tried to force himself up, but the trunk denied him so. The shackles around his paws rattled noisily.

“Stop your foolishness!” Leith ordered curtly, raising a stern finger.

The dragon whimpered, then looked down. 

“Good,” the mysterious lady said.  “Focus, you rascal. I know you’re excited, but now is not the time.”

The majestic creature dug his claws into the ground, hardened his facial expression, and began to exhale, but it was not a normal breath. It was powerful, like a growing tornado. It gave him the momentum to break away from the tree trunk. When he did, he whipped his tail through the air and nearly slammed his saviour who did not seem worried. He looked up to meet Leith's eyes and snorted, obviously offended.

“How do you get him to obey you?” asked Azéna.

Leith approached the dragon, who watched her with irritation. She stroked the tip of his snout affectionately. He purred softly and blinked slowly.

“How did you manage to tame it so easily?” continued Azéna. “Who are you? Why is it here? What's going on?”

Unaffected by the energy of her interlocutor, Leith raised her hand to her face.

“Too many questions are lingering in your mind. We'll discuss it later.”

A muffled squeak echoed from underneath the tombstone that led to Shirah’s nest.

“Ignore her,” advised Leith. “We must move.”

“But… I want to bring her. She can’t remain stuck in that hole forever. She deserves freedom, just as anybody does.”

More insistent squeaks echoed throughout the cemetery.

“We’re leaving,” commanded Leith. “Now.”

As she started to walk toward the exit, nobody followed suit. The dragon shook his head, taking a step toward Leith before pausing and looking back at Azéna. This supposedly greedy, destructive creature that didn’t respect the Pantheon wasn’t exactly acting as the priests claimed they did. In fact, it was kind of like a goofy spirit stuck in an apex predator’s body.

Why was he making Azéna feel in such bliss?

“Would you help me?”

The dragon curved his powerful neck upwards and nodded. Without hesitation, he blew an aggressive gust at the tombstone which fell backwards in a loud thud.

Shirah jumped out of the hole like as if it was nothing and ran to Azéna to rub her snout against her cheek.

Leith had stopped dead in her tracks and looked unimpressed.

“Let’s go now.”

“We should fly over the wall, not go back to the city,” suggested Azéna who pointed to the back of the cemetery.

Behind the biggest tombstones was the damaged stone wall that snaked around the entire city.

“No dragon is a pet,” explained Leith. “You can’t expect him to carry us. Girl, you do not want to insult a dragon.”

But the creature in question sniffed, opened his large bat-like wings and beckoned them over.

“I think it’s fine,” Azéna said, smiling.

She was starting to feel comfortable enough to tease her new friend.

“Your landing could’ve been better.”

The dragon snorted, half playful, half proud.

“Azéna!”

A familiar face framed by a mahogany mane stampeded through the cemetery entrance.

“Fayne!?” called the Kindirah girl.

The dragon’s scales bristled up, making him look a bit larger. He snarled and snapped his jaws.

“Oh, no! She’s my friend!” yelped Azéna, panicked.

 The dragon didn’t change his stand, but he also did not move. Fayne, on the other hand, had gone pale and trembled.

“Young Litfow, please leave before you get in trouble,” requested Leith. “You could get wrongly accused.”

“That’s true,” growled Azéna. “Father’s choices will be limited if you’re seen with us.”

“But… What about you?” asked the redhead with worry.

Azéna’s heart twisted in her sadness. She had hoped to avoid this moment.

“It’s my chance to leave.”

Her friend’s eyes grew humid as tears formed in the corners.

“Zé, you can’t be serious. I know you’ve always dreamed of it, but…”

“I don’t want to be shackled to the Kindirah will.”

She avoided her gaze, swallowing her own emotions. She couldn’t be weak, not right now.

“Leave, Fayne! Please!”

“I don’t leave my family like a coward!” thundered the herbalist, tears rolling down her face.

The dragon huffed and stomped his front paws in an intimidation display. Even with his jaws closed, some of his protruding fangs, making him look terrible.

His tactics worked. Fayne started backing away slowly, still hesitant. She feared all dragons, for her surroundings always painted a grim picture of them.

“Azéna… don’t force this upon me.”

Her voice trembled, dreading the reply.

“What is it?” asked Leith, her body tensing up.

She had her attention fixed to the dragon named Tyrath. He had one front paw in the air and was repeatedly sniffing. Even Shirah seemed on high alert.

“Huh?” said Azéna, not seeing anything out of the ordinary.

“Listen closely,” whispered Leith.

The sound of multiple pairs of boots running in the mud resounded softly in the distance.

“It’s too late,” squeaked the blue-eyed girl. “You must come with us, Fayne. You can’t be seen here.”

They all rushed to the back of the cemetery.

Once there, Tyrath started making a fuss about carrying anybody other than Azéna, claiming she was his only priority. He was panicking too.

“Tyrath, leave with her,” ordered Leith. “Bring her to the academy. Grandmaster Terenas will know what to do.”

“What!?” exclaimed Azéna who had not expected this sacrifice. “You will not! And what about Fayne!?”

She felt her face twist under her growing anger.

“Find another way.”

The boots were so loud. They were nearly upon them.

“Take her, Tyrath!” thundered the old lady.

As the dragon grabbed Azéna by the collar and lifted her as if she was a kitten, the first guards turned the corner with their spear in hand.