The Rider's Truth.

Scales

Unedited. 

Chapter Three – Scales.

My blood-stained existence funnelled away into surprisingly pleasant dreams. The uneven ground beneath me lingered, pressing against my right arm but I felt the fresh air still my fevered skin. There was salt on the air, a smell that brought me back to the quick years of my childhood and teenage years where the sea was a constant in my life. The bond, forged by magic and fate, twisted inside of me; seeming to give a long, wanting whine.

I opened my eyes. The sun was low in the sky, evening fast turning into night. I noticed Nethore immediately, perched on the edge of a cliff with his snout raised to the sky, watching clouds drift across the sky. Open doors allowed me to see into the sitting room, where I saw the outline of people arguing, fervent voices threatening to break the peace. I knew this building; it was the old Lynch manor on Eldn coast.

I was an invisible spirit, the wind moving around me but this dream didn't let Nethore sense me. The people inside only caught my attention for a moment because I couldn't see them from where I was standing and I was beginning to fear that any movement would unhinge the dream.

Nethore himself didn't shift, but the tip of his tail tapped against the ground. His head only turned when another dragon called out to him. Golden scales shimmered against the ground as Turana padded towards him, her head lowered to him. I barely acknowledged her passing; my eyes were riveted on the Nethore presented in my dreams. My chest ached, wishing that he would turn those dark, ocean eyes on me. Sadness seemed to permeate off of him, and in this dream, the bond twisted with the ache of it.

"Human..."

The wind brought the words to me, instead of the easy fusion of our minds. I wanted to stay here, even if it was on this aching precipice because I could see Nethore here, where the shadows clung to obsidian scales and the beginnings of an ancient power hummed along his powerful body.

"We have searched the caves of Muscarn already," A soft voice broke the silence. A woman, clad in loose fitting pants and a cropped top that showed a hint of a muscled abdomen, stepped out barefoot onto the grass. Her hands moved with each word, emerald flashing from her Rider's mark. Following her, came Abner. In this dream, he wore no long- sleeved shirt. Instead, his arms were bared and I could see the waxy, twisting scars where fire had bitten him.

He glanced down at Nikki, his face haggard and tired. "I know we have."

She folded a hand into the crook of his elbow, her unfaltering smile slipping for just a moment and she looked just as tired as him. Next, the dream churned out Dem. His gait was slow and ambling, as he held an open book spread on one palm and a pencil tucked over his ear and nestled among thick dark hair. His brows were tight in concentration, and I nearly began to speak up, to warn him not to walk into the corner of something while his head was stuck in a book.

I let out a long sigh, leaning forward as my toes curled in damp grass. 'This is a good dream'

The people still hidden from me in the conservatory began to bicker back and forth, but I heard no real malice. Jamie's voice boomed above them all and a real smile flickered for a moment as I imagined what she would look like. Dragons hurtled overhead, shrieking to each other, followed by the sharp whistle of turning wings.

Then, another person stepped out onto the grass. For a moment, I didn't recognise the image my dream conjured. She looked older, more burdened as she looked out to the sea with eyes of lilac burning against her pale face. She watched the darkening horizon for only a moment, before someone called her name and she turned back.