The Rider's Truth.

Music

He wheeled through the sky, thoughts flittering across the expanse of his mind like the wind over his wings. He allowed me to just be there; to cling to his back and pretend this wasn't the first time in eight months. He had known me for less than any of my friends, but knew me better than they ever would.

It ended too soon. My body, as thin as it had become, couldn't handle the cold like it should. Once the bite of the autumn's wind grew just too much for me, he wordlessly titled towards the academy island. Even his landing was smooth on the crash-pad, great sweeps of massive swings carrying his heavy body to a light drop while serrated claws gripped tight to the ground as he lowered himself into the grass.

He turned to look at me, a slit of an eye regarding me closely while he wondered about the strength of chicken bone legs.

'Chicken bone?"

I moved to examine the old wound that had forced him to be put under during the Ashbourne fight. It was only a ghost of a wound now, skin knitted back together and freshly formed scales growing over the glimpse of puckered, dark skin. When I brushed my fingers against it, he twitched with a snorting growl. Narrowing his eyes down at me, he tried to swat me away with a soft push of his paw.

"You're ticklish."

He coiled around me, his head pressing into the grass as he heaved a great sigh. "Flown very far, very fast."

"Thank you." I eased myself onto the grass, my back against his side. Without thinking, without asking, he settled the tip of his tail over my lower legs and let out another great sigh.

"Human."

---

Dark dreams hunted me, the heavy consciousness of sleep broken by the distant memory of shrieking demons and sobbing pleas. I stirred on the hard floor of my bed-room, blinking around me in confusion as I sat up, the knot of blankets around my legs collecting at my hips. I had tried sleeping on the bed, but the comforting pull of the mattress had made me uncomfortable and in the sleepy haze of my mind, I had dragged myself down onto the ground, giving myself the comfort of only a blanket.

Nethore's mind itself was bogged down in sleep as he guarded the outside of my hut, the quick snort of his snore travelling in under the doorway. His dreams were strange – Nethore had limited vocabulary but his mind was quicker and more expansive than anything I had ever heard. Sometimes it seemed so vast; beyond the quick wit and derision was an ancient knowledge that seemed to seep down from dragon to dragon, make them more cunning than their predecessor.

Tonight, he dreamed of blood and stars; crimson droplets passing through the years. So strange.

Carefully, I inched out of the door but it was no use. The instant my foot touched the path, a single eye of blue cracked open. Peeling his muzzle back, he let out a single disapproving growl.

"I just want some water." I croaked.

He watched me with fathomless eyes for a long moment before they slipped shut again. He appeared to be sleeping, but I knew too well that he wouldn't sleep until I returned to the hut. He would be listening for threats until human was safe again. For a moment, he wondered how I could gotten punier. Human was tiny.

I smiled wryly at that. "I am not human anymore Nethore. Technically, Riders are another species."

He blinked long and slow. "Human."

That nearly did it for me. The simple stubbornness in his voice, tinged with amusement nearly crushed my fragile strength in my emotions, making tears burn in the back of my eyes. I bottled it back down quickly and screwed that damn lid tight. Instead, I wondered how a dragon – a creature of iron-hide scales and fire could unravel me so easily and drudge up emotions when sometimes I felt dead inside.