The Rider's Truth.

The curious case of the vanishing Vidalin.

Not when he was a hatchling, alone and vulnerable in a world that would destroy such a young, unprotected baby.

Not to the grief when he could not find me, or when the herd of Pegusi that raised him and thought him to fly were slaughtered. He saw them in his fragmented dreams sometimes- memories of how they thought him to let his instinct guide his fragile wings. How they played with him as he grew, and the forest began to skitter away from him in fear.

Only once had he conceded, and it was the day that he thought uttering my name would bring me back. Now my name was a curse to him – the last words he had uttered to me for eight months.

"Neely.

Neely.

Come back.

.... Please.

Human?"

Nethore's attention flicked to me for a second, and shit just literally poured from the sky. I felt the malevolence pulse like the beat of a drum.

"Nethore!" I screamed his name in a desperate plea as Lilac descended from above with her claws outstretched. She had come to quickly, like the time she had attacked Turana and her intent was just as deadly this time.

There was no time, just seconds filtering away as my heart slammed in my chest. Her claws opened to sink into Nethore back, and shred through those glorious wings of dark velvet. The Ashbourne and Ithrall dragons were launching themselves from where they had been observing the fight, a chorus of outraged snarls trumpeting through the pit – they were enraged by the cowardice of Lilac.

Nethore didn't look away from me as Lilac closed down on him, but someone screamed as shadows rushed from the corner into the light.

As Lilac's claws began to close, slicing through Nethore's rump, he vanished in a haze of scattering shadows.

The amethyst dragon shrieked, her wings snapped out as she collided with the sand and a sickening crunch sounded. She whined loudly, one of her front legs broken badly and Ashlar swivelled as he searched for Nethore.

A silence echoed throughout the pit. No one dared to breath, and I felt my heart furiously slamming inside my rib-cage. I could feel him, but his mind felt strange. Like a light brush of darkness, fervent whispers of shadows.

'Hide.' They whispered.

"What is going on?" I muttered. "Stop talking to me."

"Whose talking?" Dem glanced down at me.

"The shadows. They actually never shut up." I could sense him, and there was a suspiciously out of place shadow cast against the stone.

"I can relate to that." Dem clucked his tongue. "I can't stand beside a river for too long because it just babbles all the time. And yes, I mean that literally."

"Try having to listen to the wind all the time, and then come and talk to me about babbling." Zephyr fell into step on my other side, his dark brows pressed down.

"Nethore?"

Students gasped as shadow rushed forward again, withering together like coils of obsidian snakes to form a solid body once again. I was already frowning as I saw how his body swayed, confused as it became solid once more, but the other dragons were rushing forward to his side protectively. Turana stepped in front of him, her wings flared like a golden shield while Demor pressed her snout to his side to keep him from falling.

Energy crackled, thick and tangible in the air and I felt it skitter along my arms. My eyes tipped close for just a moment, letting the mix of elements wash over me.