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Chapter 13

A searing pain shot through his wing, yanking him from the warm embrace of darkness. He screamed and his eyes shot open.

At first, Aravarys was confused. He was... somewhere in the mountains, but nothing around him looked familiar. He was on stone. Awfully warm stone. He had shifted and his right wing had bumped the stone. Aravarys grit his teeth and turned his head to examine it.

His wing was wrapped uncomfortably tight against his side. The leading edge was covered in bandages that felt surprisingly solid for something made out of cloth. His shoulder, and most of his wing membrane, was also bandaged. What had happened to him?

Suddenly, memories of the crash flooded back to him. Flying after a receding red form. Pushing himself far past exhaustion. Keeping up his pace through a desperate need to reach him. And then... nothing.

He snapped his head up, looking for Kaleramek. He was nowhere to be seen. Aravarys was on a flat, stone plateau, pitted with pools of different sizes. It was cradled by steep mountain slopes that shot from the plateau like a jagged stone wall. The pools flowed together into a small stream that ran off the edge of the plateau. Aravarys walked to the edge. It dropped off in a sheer cliff, and the stream fell in a small, misty waterfall. The plateau was situated in the mountains at the edge of a massive valley. The mountains that surrounded it shot off in either direction for miles. To his left, the mountains closed off after a few miles. To the right, they kept going, gently curving in, until they were barely visible. The huge, tree-covered valley spread out before him, a rolling sea of green leaves and dark trees.

Dejectedly, with his wing hurting like the twelve hells, he lay down, looking over the valley. The glassy, volcanic slopes that cradled the plateau, smooth and pitless as high as Aravarys could reach, were unclimbable. Nimble on his feet as he was, even he couldn't climb down the sheer cliff to the bottom of the valley. There was no prey anywhere on the plateau, and even if there had been, he wouldn't have been able to catch it. There was water; lukewarm, disgusting water, but water all the same.

Even in his situation, he couldn't believe the view this plateau afforded over the valley. As he looked out over the great green rolling sea, a small red glint caught his eye. It rose further from the trees, moving towards the plateau. However, as it got closer, Aravarys noticed it wavering, flying unsteadily. It was Kaleramek.

Aravarys got up, trying to make space for Kaleramek to land. Kaleramek stumbled to a stop on the stone, barely avoiding falling into one of the pools. In his jaws was a deer, uneaten. He dropped it and opened and closed his jaws a few times.

"Thought that would be easier," he said, trying to massage his jaws.

Aravarys looked at him, unsure of where to start. "What... what happened?" he asked.

"I went hunting, and carrying something as heavy as deer is harder than it looks," Kaleramek replied.

"No! No, I meant... you know what I meant! Where am I? What happened to my wing?" Aravarys said, frustrated. Kaleramek let the slightest hint of a smirk play across his mouth.

"Well, you're at my home. As for your wing, I'm pretty sure you broke it."

Aravarys looked at his bandaged wing. He had suspected as much, but it hurt to know that he truly had lost the power of flight again. For a few months, at least.

"How did I get here?" Aravarys asked.

"I flew you here. A...friend helped me with your wing. Never really been all that good at fixing things, myself," Kaleramek said.

Aravarys wanted to know more, but he had more pressing matters to attend to. His stomach growled loudly. He looked toward the deer, only marred by Kaleramek's teeth where he had been carrying it.

"Go ahead. I wouldn't bring it all the way over here just to eat it myself," Kaleramek said.

Aravarys turned to the deer. It was larger than anything they had ever fed him in the City, and it was all his. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

Chapter 14

Kaleramek had never seen a dragon eat so quickly before. Despite his size, Aravarys inhaled the deer at an unprecedented speed. Kaleramek circled him to look at his wing. The old bag had done a good job. The wing looked set, the bandages looked solid and intact, even with Aravarys moving a bit, and his wing was still folded securely against his side.

Aravarys finished with the deer, leaving a small pile of bones that Kaleramek suspected lacked more than a few of the bones a deer was supposed to have.

"Well, what now?" Aravarys asked.

"I've got to rest, since I've been up all night trying to make sure you weren't crippled for life."

"You aren't going to try to abandon me again?"

"Not yet." They sat in silence for a moment.

"Where am I supposed to sleep?" Aravarys asked.

"On the stone. Don't want to get your bandages too wet." Aravarys didn't seem too pleased with the idea.

"Where are you going to sleep?"

"In one of the pools."

"Do you just live out here, lying in the pools? No shelter, no privacy?" Aravarys asked.

"The valley is private enough." Aravarys huffed. He glanced around. Kaleramek looked at the plateau as well. It did look a little barren, now that he thought about it. It was a cozy place to relax, but he wouldn't like to be stuck on the stone, flightless.

"How long will it take for my wing to heal?"

Kaleramek thought back to what the old bag had said. Dragons healed quickly, much faster than humans. Because of this, she had been in a rush to set Aravarys' wing, but once it had been set, she said the bone would heal soon.

"A week, maybe two, until it's healed. Longer until you can fly, unless you can stand the pain."

Aravarys seemed pleasantly surprised. He probably expected to be flightless for longer. Kaleramek had been glad when he heard, too. He didn't want to keep having to haul prey back here several times per day.

The sun was just starting to rise over the mountains, but Kaleramek was ready to pass out in one of his pools. He made his way to his favorite pool - always just on the verge of being too hot - and laid with his head on the stone. It was always warmed by the hot water, so it was pleasant to lie on.

"Well, while you're sleeping in your little pool, what am I supposed to do?" Aravarys asked.

"I don't know. Sleep, climb, whatever you want. Just don't get your bandages wet."

Aravarys huffed and walked to the lip of the plateau to lie down, looking out over the valley. Kaleramek closed his eyes, and sleep came to him easily.

He was flying with his wingmates in formation. There were five of them, arranged in a V. Their commander was flying at the head, and Kaleramek was at the back of the right leg of the formation. They were flying over the foothills, back south to the Great Forests. They had just finished their assignment in the Snowfields and couldn't wait to get back to their homes. Usually, as they flew, the squad bantered with each other playfully. They had been training and fighting together for decades. They were closer than family. This flight lacked their usual banter. Their several month-long mission in the Snowfields had been the last one they would have together. They were being dismissed. Some of the squad had families and homes to return to, like Kaleramek. Others weren't so lucky.

Kaleramek's family and home was the furthest north, and their path south passed directly over it. He wished his wingmates well and started to descend. His best friend, Karu, made one last jab at him, but he couldn't remember the words. As he slowly spiraled down to the forest, he looked up at his wingmates one last time.

A dozen Glaciarens sprung from the forests below and tore his wingmates from the skies.

Kaleramek awoke with a jerk. He glanced around fearfully, until he realized where he was. The sun had set, darkness had enveloped his home, and a small form had fallen asleep at the ledge above the valley. It fidgeted in its sleep. It seemed ready to wake at the slightest disturbance. Kaleramek climbed out of the pool and quietly took off, flying up to the cavern above the pools. He entered through a large, horizontal crack in the stone, and flew to the bottom of the cave. He rummaged around until he found what he was looking for. A strange, human-made pelt. It had been a gift of some kind, years ago, but Kaleramek had barely used it. It was thick, though, and soft. Plenty large enough to cover a small dragon. It was green, and patterned with images of the leaves from the Great Forests. He took it in his jaws and flew out of the cavern, back down to the plateau. He landed softly and walked over to the dragon lying on the ledge. Kaleramek was about to drape the pelt over the the young dragon, as he always had to calm his sleep.

Aravarys was still fidgeting on the stone, barely asleep.

The sight of the Glaciaren wrenched Kaleramek from his sleepy daze. He realized what he was carrying and dropped it in his shock. Aravarys shifted slightly. Kaleramek looked at the soft, green pelt- blanket, he remembered distractedly- and at the dragon he was about to drape it over in horror.

He lept over Aravarys, over the ledge, and took to the air.

Chapter 15

Kaleramek flew deep into the forests that filled the valley. He sped through the trees, wind whistling past his head. He didn't allow himself to think. He focused completely on flying. Tree, bank left. Bank right, left, faster, keep flying. His wings were never fully extended, only flicking out for a moment to give him what little lift they could when the trees permitted it. He used his claws and his tail to help him weave through the trees. He had to be light with his touch. These weren't the massive, strong trees of the Great Forest.

When the forests became too dense to traverse, he broke through the canopy. He soared over the trees. He let the wind carry him, no destination in mind, just feeling the air fill his wings.

The wind carried him over the forests. He watched them pass beneath him. They had a distinct sound to them, always rustling softly, always had some sort of animal making noise.

The wind carried him above a familiar stream. It ran over a rocky bank that hid all sorts of fish during the warmer seasons. Now, deep into the Autumn months, the stream was all but deserted.

The wind carried him to a cave. The deserted stream ran through a tunnel of rock. He didn't know where it let out. The cave was too small for him to fit through. He didn't feel like forcing himself through an underwater tunnel if he didn't know how long he might be under for. The fish swam up through the cave, though, so it had to let out somewhere.

The wind carried him to a meadow. It was blanketed in tall grass that waved with the breeze. On the far edge of the meadow, a herd of deer were resting. A few were watching the treeline. Most were dozing off. Too bad he hadn't found this herd earlier. The other deer he caught had been much further from the springs. He flew over them undetected, as the deer weren't watching the sky. Why would they? He was the only dragon in this valley.

He circled around slowly and flew back towards the herd of deer parallel to the treeline. Kaleramek tucked in his wings and dove for the group. He wasn't high off the ground, and he reached the deer quickly. As he got close, one of the deer perked its ears and looked up. Kaleramek reached out his front claws and snatched it off of the ground. The rest of the herd bolted, but he had gotten what he wanted.

He snapped the deer's neck while flying away. It went limp. Kaleramek looked around, gauging where he was. During the day, he could navigate most of the valley without a second thought, but at night, it was much more challenging. He was still close to the springs. He could make it back in time to eat his deer while it was still warm.

Eating on the forest floor wasn't dangerous. Nothing living in the valley could hurt him. But eating in such an exposed area just felt... wrong. Uncomfortable.

He flew back, making much better time since he wasn't flying through the trees or leisurely soaring with the wind. Kaleramek glided onto the plateau as quietly as he could. He dropped off the deer, and looked toward where Aravarys slept.

He had made a plan while he flew. Grab the blanket, store it back in his cavern, and pretend it never happened. He would forget soon enough, and Aravarys wouldn't know. He strode quietly to where Aravarys slept. However, while Kaleramek was away, Aravarys had climbed atop the blanket where it had fallen and made it into his bed.

Kaleramek recoiled. He wanted to rip the blanket out from under Aravarys. Wanted to tell him he had no right to sleep atop it. But he didn't. He watched Aravarys' sleeping form. He wasn't fidgeting anymore. He looked... peaceful.

Chapter 16

In the extensive snowfields to the north of the Claws mountains, a hatchling bounced around an old dragon's house.

"Get down from there!" Father yelled.

"Catch me first!" he yipped down.

Father turned to the old dragon. "I'm so sorry about him. This is the first time he's seen a house."

"Oh, it's quite alright. I'm glad to see he's got your energy," he said with a chuckle. The old dragon turned to Mother, who was in the middle of trying to get him down from the slabs of stone that ringed the not-cave. "And what would your name be?"

She turned away from the hatchling. "Sylarys," she said

The strange dragon smiled. "A beautiful name," he said. Turning to Father, he whispered loudly, "How'd you manage to snag that one?" They chuckled with one another.

Mother smiled warmly. "It's nice to finally meet you. Aravaren's told me plenty about his days with you."

"Really? Well, I hope he would. I don't know if he told you this, but I pretty much raised him," the old dragon said.

"You did no such thing!" Father protested, much to the old dragon's amusement.

The hatchling, meanwhile, was trying his best to ignore them. Mother had resumed her chase, trying to fetch him down from the strange, flat slabs of stone that jutted out from the walls of the not-cave. The hatchling had never seen anything like it before. It rose from the ground, a short rectangle of stone with straight, clean edges. The inside was even more mystifying. Clean cut walls, a flat floor, no pile of furs to sleep on. How did this strange dragon survive? This not-cave was barely even habitable.

Stone slabs jutted from the walls, too small for the big dragons to lie on. They were at head-level for the big dragons. The hatchling marvelled at them as he jumped from slab to slab, avoiding his mother's grasping arms. Why were they there? What purpose did they serve? He could play on them, oh yes. He could most certainly have fun with them. But they were far too small for the big dragons. He concluded that they were made for him to play on and continued to jump across them, as Father and the strange dragon talked and Mother tried to catch him.

"Well, I'm glad you finally found yourself a family," the strange dragon said. "But, since you seem to have everything you need down south, why come back up here? I wish I could think it was to see my beautiful face, but you didn't know I had moved into town, did you?"

Father sombered. Mother stopped trying to catch the hatchling. He looked around the room, confused. They weren't paying attention to him! He jumped from the ledge down onto Mother's back, but all she did was reach back and place him down at her feet. Still not paying attention to him.

"No, we didn't know you were living here. We need to know what's going on. You know we live on our own. There weren't any issues, but recently, prey's been getting scarce. Really scarce," Father said. The hatchling knew something was wrong. Concern etched Father's face, and his words lacked his usual cheer. The hatchling tried to move forward to comfort him, but Mother held him back.

The old dragon frowned. "You live down by the Claws mountains, right?"

"Yes."

"You hunt near there as well?"

"I used to, but now I have to fly eastward to get even a hint of prey."

The old dragon thought. "I'm sorry. I don't know what could be scaring them all off. If you want, though, you could stay with me. This little hut is plenty big enough, and it gets lonely in here."

"Really? You'd share your home with us?" Father asked, surprised.

"Sure. Besides, there's always someone around town that'd be willing to trade some prey for a day's work."

"I- I don't know what to say. I guess it wouldn't hurt to spend the night. Get some rest before the flight home." Father looked over at Mother. "We'll talk about it. Either way, we truly appreciate your offer." Father still seemed worried, though.

The old dragon smiled and spread his wings. "Enough gloom! This is the first time I've seen you in decades, and I'm not going to let your terrible hunting skills ruin it."

Father laughed, the worry wiped away for the moment. The three big dragons started to make their way towards the door, and the hatchling sprinted out in front of them.