Chapter 9

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The throbbing sensation in Ralf's arm still lingered from the morning's sword training with King Alan. He felt as though perhaps he had pulled a muscle because the pain was making it hard to concentrate on his mother's instructions as she spoke about magic. He wished he would heal already but he knew that muscle pains took longer than cuts and bruises to heal. Which meant for the next hour he would not be as focused as he should be.

"Ralf, are you listening?" his mother chided him.

He rubbed his arm and looked up at her. "Yes, I'm sorry," he apologized. "You were talking about the elements, specifically fire and its uncontrollability?"

Queen Ariana's eyes softened. "Yes. However maybe we should take a break? You seem to be more concentrated on the pain in your arm than your lesson on magic."

"I'm sorry, it's from sword fighting with Dad earlier. No matter how much I work at it, I never seem to get much better. It seems as though my puny arms weren't made to hold a sword." Ralf deflated with each word he spoke, knowing that he would never be as good of a swordsman as Henry.

His mother shook her head. "It's true, you weren't made to be a swordsman like your brother. No, you were destined for something much more extraordinary. You were made to be bonded to a dragon, Ralf. So what if you don't have the muscles of a knight or the looks of a prince? These things don't define you. You don't need muscles or looks to be dragon bonded, you need courage and heart and wisdom."

"And you know something else? Your brother could never be a dragon bond. It takes a special person, Ralf, and though I love your brother with all my heart, I can honestly say that he does not have what it takes to be a dragon rider. Because he was destined for a different path. And you can wish all you want to be big and strong, but the hard truth is that more than likely you will always have the physicality that you have now. You can't change that. What you can change is the knowledge you possess, the magical ability you acquire, and the kindness you hold deep within your heart."

"Now let's take a break, it'll do us both good," the Queen said, putting a gentle hand on Ralf's shoulder.

Ralf took his mother's hand in his own and looked at her with grateful eyes. "Thank you, Mother."

She smiled at him and released his hand to give him a hug. "Never change, my son. You are far too special."

When his mother left, he felt his spirit deflate a little. His mother always knew how to make him feel better about himself and so when she left, he tended to go back to doubting himself once again. He had to work hard to keep her words of encouragement in his head as he walked over to Mirum. He needed her to lean on for support.

Mirum's presence always made Ralf feel stronger and braver than he truly was. Without her he was just a small, crippled prince.

Deep within his heart Ralf felt the urge to soar and so he hoisted himself up onto Mirum's back. Within seconds they were in the air.


Time always flew by--quite literally--when Ralf was with Mirum. By the time they decided to take a breather, it was already midday.

Mirum headed back to the hill of the training grounds. After a few seconds, Ralf could tell she had spotted something worrisome.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Your brother. He's there with a girl. Is that the spoiled little brat you told me about? The one that had you mistaken for the help?"

Ralf sighed heavily and felt more tired than he already was. "Please tell me they're just passing through."

"They seem to be firmly rooted to the training grounds, waiting for you."

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