Title: Rites of Passage
Summary: Edana and Shana, two of the most promising warriors of their clan, are finally going to complete their Excursion so they can be considered full-fledged warriors. But they can only succeed if they don’t kill each other first. Luckily, Elowyn has come along for the ride, even if she isn’t technically supposed to be there. Rules were meant to be broken, right?
Author’s Note: The first draft of one of my first chapters for the Dragon Riders. This is only the first part of the chapter, but it got long so the second part can be found here. The Excursion itself will most likely take up two chapters, and the second chapter will be posted at a later date.
Dark skies loomed over the forest, the slate clouds crawling over blue, devouring their way across the sky from the mountain range miles away. In the midst of the grey, two figures raced across the sky, one pulling ahead with the passing of each second.
Wind and rain whipped against Edana’s face as she leaned into Aerys’s rough neck, urging the dragon to fly faster. A tail’s length behind them was Shana’s purple behemoth Nightshade. The fierce expression on the rider’s face made it clear that Edana couldn’t relax just yet. She squeezed her knees against Aerys’s neck and the leathery wings folded inward. They became a spear slicing through the wind, leaving Shana and Nightshade in their wake. When they darted past the finish marker—the top of a redwood tree that towered above the pines—Aerys’s wings unfurled and billowed in the wind. They jerked to a stop and Edana whooped in celebration and punched the air. The beast beneath her released a triumphant roar, too, as they circled the top of the tree.
👎🏼 Very simple 👍🏼 Basic
👎🏼 Very shy 👍🏼 Timid
👎🏼 Very short 👍🏼 Brief
👎🏼 Very shiny 👍🏼 Gleaming
👎🏼 Very sharp 👍🏼 Keen
👎🏼 Very serious 👍🏼 Grave
👎🏼 Very scary 👍🏼 Chilling
👎🏼 Very scared 👍🏼 Petrified
👎🏼 Very sad 👍🏼 Sorrowful
👎🏼 Very rich 👍🏼 Wealthy
👎🏼 Very rainy 👍🏼 Pouring
👎🏼 Very quiet 👍🏼 Hushed
👎🏼 Very quick 👍🏼 Rapid
👎🏼 Very pretty 👍🏼 Beautiful
👎🏼 Very powerful 👍🏼 Compelling
👎🏼 Very poor 👍🏼 Destitute
👎🏼 Very perfect 👍🏼 Flawless
👎🏼 Very pale 👍🏼 Ashen
👎🏼 Very painful 👍🏼 Excruciating
👎🏼 Very open 👍🏼 Transparent
👎🏼 Very old-fashioned 👍🏼 Archaic
👎🏼 Very old 👍🏼 Ancient
👎🏼 Very often 👍🏼 Frequently
👎🏼 Very noisy 👍🏼Deafening
I see a lot of writing tips and I post a lot of writing tips but I feel like I’ve been forgetting the most important one: you’ve gotta learn to trust yourself.
And I don’t mean that in sort of “uwu have faith in yourself! You can do it!!” kind of way. I’m not here to repeat empty affirmations–I’m saying you’ve consumed a lot of media over the years. You know what you like and what you don’t like. You have good taste.
But if you’re like me, all that certainty goes out the window when you’re writing your own stuff. “Will the readers like that?” you think. “This is too weird. It’s unrelatable. Nobody else’s story looks like this–I must be doing something wrong.”
“This is silly,” you tell yourself. “Why do I even bother?”
And when you start doubting yourself like that, that’s the moment you stop creating. You get blocked and stressed and it gets all too easy to fall back on cliches and stereotypes. You start stripping away the things that make the story uniquely yours in order to make it look more like everyone else’s.
Which is infinitely sad.
You’ve lived a life no one else has seen, and you have ideas that nobody else in the world could think of. Even if the story has been ‘done’ before, there’s nobody else who can tell it like you. You can start with the most ‘cliche’ idea ever, but if you come at it with any measure of emotional honesty, it’ll still be new–because it’s being told by you.
I just finished a draft of a book that’s probably the most painful thing I’ve written so far. It’s way out of my comfort zone, and I had to explore aspects of myself I prefer not to think about. I did a lot of second guessing, and a good bit of whimpering facedown on the floor because writing is scary and hard.
And rereading the draft now, the absolute best parts are the bits where I gave up on convention and I wrote what I wanted exactly the way I wanted to write it. Yeah, it’s kinda silly and kinda dumb and kinda just a big load on nonsense–but it’s MY nonsense. If people like it, great. Wonderful. If they don’t like it, well–reading is a subjective experience, and maybe my work just isn’t for them. That’s okay.
Be you. Be honestly, genuinely you. It’s a scary, vulnerable position to put yourself in, but… Even if you’re one in a million, there are 7,000 people just like you–and that’s 7,000 people who will read your work and go “this writer gets me.”
Write it for them. Write it for you. Create shamelessly. Learning to write is only half learning the craft–the other half is learning to trust in the value of the things you have to say.
So, so many works I’ve read could be vastly improved with tightening and shaving of superfluous words. Wordiness is an easy stumbling block, as we’re used to how we talk. We’re used to how others (long ago) wrote. But times change, my friend, and so do expectations of the writer. We don’t get paid by the word in fiction. So show your smarts and say as much as you can with as much power as you can in as few words as possible.
Here are a few things you can cut without reserve to help shorten your story right now. And as you catch yourself using these words in your next draft, hit that backspace before you finish the sentence! It’s okay if you already have. You can go delete them now. No one will ever know.
Moment/Second/Minute
It’s so tempting. I am guilty of using this word like fertilizer in my first drafts. But most of the time, these words aren’t needed at all. They add nothing.
He sat down for a moment, sipping his coffee.
vs.
He sat down and sipped at his coffee.
But he only did it for a moment, you say!
He sat down for a moment, sipping his coffee. When the door opened a second later, he shot to his feet.
vs.
He sat down and sipped his coffee. The door opened, and before he could swallow his first sip, he shot to his feet.
I know, this is about making your writing more concise and my “right” example has more words than the first example. But what’s the difference? The words used in the second sentence are more tangible. They give a visual that “a second later” and “for a moment” don’t. And you could leave that part out, of course, if you’re really going for trimming word count. It doesn’t paint quite the same image, but “The door opened and he shot to his feet.” is a perfectly good sentence.
Suddenly/All of a sudden
You’ve heard this one, before, surely. These words are used…when? When you’re trying to portray suddenness. Surprise, perhaps. So why are you adding in extra words to slow down the pace?
She flipped on the TV and reclined in her chair. All of sudden, the TV flashed a bright light and the power went out.
vs.
She flipped on the TV and reclined in her chair.
The TV flashed once before the lights went dark. The power was out.
That sense of immediacy is felt when stuff just happens. So let it happen. If it’s rhythm you’re worried about, then find more useful words to create the rhythm. Notice that I didn’t just cut “All of a sudden” out of the sentence and leave it. I reworded it a bit to make it stronger.
Finally
It can be a useful word, but more often than not, it’s just taking up space.
Really/Very
Just…delete them.
To alter a Mark Twain quote:
“Substitute ’[fucking]’ every time you’re inclined to write ‘very;’ your editor will delete it and the writing will be just as it should be.”
But seriously, if you’re saying, “She was breathing very hard.” You could just cut the “very” and say, “She was breathing hard.” Or, even better, “She was panting.” Or, EVEN BETTER: “She panted.”
Himself/herself/myself/themselves
Reflexive nouns have a specific purpose, though they can still often be avoided. They fall into the category of “use only when it’s confusing otherwise.”
Correct:
He looked at himself in the mirror.
Better:
He looked in the mirror.
Incorrect:
She gave them to Andrew and myself before leaving.
Correct:
She gave them to Andrew and me before leaving.
Technically correct I guess:
I haven’t eaten lunch myself. (Intensive pronoun; aka waste of words)
Better:
I haven’t eaten lunch.
Intensive pronouns add emphasis, but that emphasis is negligible and often negated by the power of tightening your narrative.
That
You can likely cut 60% of your “that"s and your story will be unaffected. Sometimes, you do need to add a “that” here and there for clarification, but not always. And sometimes it’s just plain incorrect.
The jacket was the coolest one that he’d ever owned.
vs.
The jacket was the coolest one he’d ever owned.
In other cases, you might do well to substitute “that” with “which.” Though, if you’re doing this, make sure you do it properly. That change can often alter the meaning of your sentence. That can be for the better, though.
The vandalism that read “Bad Wolf” made Rose nervous.
vs.
The vandalism, which read “Bad Wolf,” made Rose nervous.
Do you see the difference? In the first sentence, the words are what make Rose nervous. In the second, the vandalism itself makes Rose nervous, and it happens to say “Bad Wolf.” In this case, if you’ve watched Doctor Who, then you know the first example is the correct one.
So when you’re sharing details using “that” or “which,” contemplate how important they are to meaning of the sentence to determine which type of clause you need to use.
Then
Or worse, “And then.”
It makes your writing sound a bit juvenile. Either cut it entirely, or substitute “and.”
She jumped into the pool, then hit her head on the bottom.
vs.
She jumped into the pool and hit her head on the bottom.
And then, after all that time, she fell asleep.
vs.
After all that time, she fell asleep.
Even
Sometime “even” can help emphasize a situation or behavior, but when it’s used in narrative improperly, it sounds childish and silly.
He couldn’t even breathe.
vs.
He couldn’t breathe.
Even with the new hair gel, his hair was terrible.
(This one is fine, though you could still cut that “even” if you really wanted to…)
Just
Just…Delete it.
Breathe/breath/exhale/inhale/sigh/nod/shrug
Another one I’m so guilty of. In my first drafts, I tend to talk about how a character is breathing, or when they’re sighing like nobody’s business. I know a lot of writers who are guilty of this, too. It’s a great tool to use scarcely. In intense moments, you can let your character take a final deep breath to calm themselves. When a character almost drowns, those first few sweet breaths are important. But you readers know that people breath all the time. And just because you need a beat in your dialogue doesn’t mean you need to remind your reader that the character is still breathing or moving.
Rather/quite/somewhat
She was rather tall. She was tall. He was quite idiotic. He was idiotic. They were somewhat snazzy. They were snazzy. Why do you need those words? Kill ‘em.
Start/begin
This is a great example of fluff.
She started to run toward the shop.
vs.
She ran toward the shop.
He began scolding them for their performance.
vs.
He scolded them for their performance.
There are obviously uses for this word, like anything. He started the car. Begin your tests! But when you’re using it to slow the action and the pace of your narrative, then consider heavily if you need it. You probably don’t.
In order to/in an attempt to
Phrases that add unneeded complications, cumbersome wording…kill ‘em!
She bit down in an attempt to stop herself from screaming.
vs.
She bit down to stop herself from screaming.
Was able to
He was able to call.
vs.
He could call. OR He called.
This is one that isn’t inherently bad, but it can easily be overused and cutting it will help simplify your narrative.
Due to
Ugh. Are you trying to sound proper and stuffy? Because that’s a reason, I guess, to use this phrase…and yet it sounds like doodoo. (Yes. I’m an adult.) Rephrase. Use “Because of” or just avoid the need altogether.
We stopped due to traffic.
vs.
We stopped because of traffic.
OR (Strength of narrative!)
We stopped mid-highway. The parked cars went on beyond the curve of the road, out of sight.
Visibly/obviously/apparently/audibly
These are a sign of telling in your narrative when you should probably be showing.
She was visibly shaking. –> She shivered, hugging her upper arms.
He was obviously tired. –> He yawned and tripped on his own feet as he crossed the room.
They were apparently angry. –> They stomped and shouted, demanding attention.
She screamed audibly. (Really?) –> She screamed.
Don’t tell your readers what emotion a character is feeling. Instead, give a few clues that they can see/hear/feel the emotion too.
While
This word has lots of legitimate uses. However, if you’re using it poorly, then your narrative reads like an Early Reader’s book, and you (unless that’s what you’re writing) probably don’t want that.
“Get it together,” he said while flipping them off.
vs.
“Get it together,” he said, flipping them off.
Turned
One of the classics. So overused, my friends. It’s needed on occasion, but not nearly as often as we use it. Just cut it out.
They turned toward her as they spoke.
vs.
They gave her their full attention as they spoke. OR They looked into her eyes. OR (Nothing. Readers don’t have to be updated on every little movement.)
Saw/looked/regarded
UGH. Regarded:Looked::Mentioned:Said
And, like “said,” many, many instances of these words can be nixed.
She saw them run for the hills.
vs.
They ran for the hills.
This can be tricky, I know, when you’re writing in limited-third or first POV. It’s tempting to put every action directly through your POV character’s filter. But resist that temptation! There are times when it’s appropriate, occasionally, but it can be overdone so easily.
I looked at her and said, “Please.”
vs.
I said,“ Please.” OR. I took her hand. “Please.”
This example sides with the breathing and the turning. It’s often an unneeded update on the tiny movements of the characters. And, again, sometimes you need that beat or that little detail in an intense moment, but not often.
I’m not here to tell you to cut all your dialogue tags (please don’t). I’m also going to the last person who insists you get rid of “said.” In fact, I’m in the “said is invisible” party of writing nerds and I think, if you’re going to use a standard tag, it should be “said” 90% of the time.
But aside from that, using as few dialogue tags as possible is a good thing. I’ll do a full post on this soon, but for now, be aware of how often you rely on these words in your dialogue and do your best not to overuse them. Use surrounding action and context to take some of the reliance off of these words.
To-Be in all its conjugated forms
If you’re using any of this list:
am, is, are, was, were, be, being, had been
Then check yo'self. Some tenses call for an auxiliary verb. Some types of sentence do, too, not doubt about it. But many don’t, and cutting to-be verbs when you can will help tighten your writing.
We were going to the store.
vs.
We went to the store.
Sounds were echoing through the chamber.
vs.
Sounds echoed through the chamber.
To-be verbs can also be an indicator of passive voice, though they aren’t always.
He was hit by the ball.
vs.
The ball hit him.
Last but not least, check all of your adverbs.
Chances are, if you’re using an adverb, you could be using a single strong verb instead and giving each sentence more punch.
He ran quickly. –> He sprinted.
I hit him hard. –> I socked him.
She spoke quietly. –> She whispered.
They ran into each other fast. –> They crashed.
So what am I supposed to do about this?
Take it to heart. Try not to let these words take over your brain as you write. Once your manuscript is finished, try this method:
Use Find and Replace. Replace any and all of the aforementioned words in ALL-CAPS. Now, if you’ve paid attention to my advice in using emphasis, then those all-caps will really stick out as you’re reading over your work and you can decide at each instance whether your usage is appropriate, or if it needs to be rewritten. As I did to this very old draft of mine from my first NaNoWriMo (in which I used every single word on this list, I’m sure).
When I used this method with my most recent WIP, I was able to cut my word count from 105k to 93k without cutting any content whatsoever. It takes a lot of work and it’s pretty tedious but the results are amazing!
It wouldn’t be the English language without exceptions, would it?
Now, there is actually an important time for intentionally using any or all of the words on this list. You know when that is?
When it fits the character’s voice. - More on this in my next post!
This is something that happens every day in your life. A shift of your eyebrow in skepticism, or the way your lip may twitch to a half smile cause you’re trying not to laugh. These behaviors are vital for writing in character, because not only do the allow you to visually see what is happening but it is also reaffirming whatever emotion your character is showing.
So why should you write it?
Much of human communication is non-verbal which means you need to also translate this non-verbal reaction in a post. It allows you to greatly enhance the emotions of another character and always another person to ‘visually’ see how they feel in a post. Most of all, this will add depth and volume to your post to make it feel more real. IT will make your character feel like a human instead of just another fictional person you look at from above.
Below you will find a list different type of emotions and what sort of body language can be exhibited to them.
Three ways to accent an action.
When writing about emotions, there are different ways to verbally write them out. Each one is unique in their own way, allowing you to show more about the emotion.
Emphasize the Emotion.
But doing this, you are expressing both the emotion and the body language. We’ll use a simple example. It’s short and simple yet you can sense he is happy.
John felt so happy that he was humming a tune while walking down the hall.
Complicate the Emotion.
Sometimes, even when you are feeling one emotion, deep down rooted underneath the facade of it all, there is actually an underlining emotion they feel. This is something you have to truly express otherwise no one will know.
John felt so happy that he was humming a tune while walking down the hall. However, it was obvious by the way his nose crinkled that he was disgusted by the actions beforehand. Instead, John covered it up by appearing pleased today.
Contradict the Emotion.
This is a little different than complicate. Contradicting means that you are claiming one thing when in fact its the other. In many ways, this has a variety of uses, from inner depth of the truth to what you see in person, or someone creating a wall. It could be considered a lie, but when is anything that easy?
John felt so happy that he was humming a tune while walking down the hall. In truth, once he was in the classroom, his shoulders slumped and a pout crossed his lips when no one was around, showing just how displeased he was with the situation.
Remember that you do not always have to contradict or complicate anything. Sometimes all you need to do is emphasize and that will be just fine. You don’t always have to have an underlining complicated for an emotion to make it more enhanced.
Do be afraid to use the Thesaurus to also improve an emotion. Such things as “happy” is a nice emotional word, but think of how much more powerful it is when you heard some is “overjoyed” or “content.” She how these emotions matched up with a body language can give two different styles of happiness? Mix and match to find what works best for your character at the time.
More In Depth Information
What I’ve stated above is more of a simplistic overview. IF you truly want to improve yourself, go to this
LINK HERE
To see just how much body language can reveal about a person. You will find things such as how a person lies, how the eyes reaction, the positioning of a person in personal space, mouth, and head body language and so much more.
Use these resources to greatly increase the reactions of your character to another and create a more life-like world.
Sticking a landing will royally fuck up your joints and possibly shatter your ankles, depending on how high you’re jumping/falling from. There’s a very good reason free-runners dive and roll.
Hand-to-hand fights usually only last a matter of seconds, sometimes a few minutes. It’s exhausting work and unless you have a lot of training and history with hand-to-hand combat, you’re going to tire out really fast.
Arrows are very effective and you can’t just yank them out without doing a lot of damage. Most of the time the head of the arrow will break off inside the body if you try pulling it out, and arrows are built to pierce deep. An arrow wound demands medical attention.
Throwing your opponent across the room is really not all that smart. You’re giving them the chance to get up and run away. Unless you’re trying to put distance between you so you can shoot them or something, don’t throw them.
Everyone has something called a “flinch response” when they fight. This is pretty much the brain’s way of telling you “get the fuck out of here or we’re gonna die.” Experienced fighters have trained to suppress this. Think about how long your character has been fighting. A character in a fist fight for the first time is going to take a few hits before their survival instinct kicks in and they start hitting back. A character in a fist fight for the eighth time that week is going to respond a little differently.
ADRENALINE WORKS AGAINST YOU WHEN YOU FIGHT. THIS IS IMPORTANT. A lot of times people think that adrenaline will kick in and give you some badass fighting skills, but it’s actually the opposite. Adrenaline is what tires you out in a battle and it also affects the fighter’s efficacy - meaning it makes them shaky and inaccurate, and overall they lose about 60% of their fighting skill because their brain is focusing on not dying. Adrenaline keeps you alive, it doesn’t give you the skill to pull off a perfect roundhouse kick to the opponent’s face.
Swords WILL bend or break if you hit something hard enough. They also dull easily and take a lot of maintenance. In reality, someone who fights with a sword would have to have to repair or replace it constantly.
Fights get messy. There’s blood and sweat everywhere, and that will make it hard to hold your weapon or get a good grip on someone.
A serious battle also smells horrible. There’s lots of sweat, but also the smell of urine and feces. After someone dies, their bowels and bladder empty. There might also be some questionable things on the ground which can be very psychologically traumatizing. Remember to think about all of the character’s senses when they’re in a fight. Everything WILL affect them in some way.
If your sword is sharpened down to a fine edge, the rest of the blade can’t go through the cut you make. You’ll just end up putting a tiny, shallow scratch in the surface of whatever you strike, and you could probably break your sword.
ARCHERS ARE STRONG TOO. Have you ever drawn a bow? It takes a lot of strength, especially when you’re shooting a bow with a higher draw weight. Draw weight basically means “the amount of force you have to use to pull this sucker back enough to fire it.” To give you an idea of how that works, here’s a helpful link to tell you about finding bow sizes and draw weights for your characters. (CLICK ME)
If an archer has to use a bow they’re not used to, it will probably throw them off a little until they’ve done a few practice shots with it and figured out its draw weight and stability.
People bleed. If they get punched in the face, they’ll probably get a bloody nose. If they get stabbed or cut somehow, they’ll bleed accordingly. And if they’ve been fighting for a while, they’ve got a LOT of blood rushing around to provide them with oxygen. They’re going to bleed a lot.
Here’s a link to a chart to show you how much blood a person can lose without dying. (CLICK ME)
If you want a more in-depth medical chart, try this one. (CLICK ME)
Hopefully this helps someone out there. If you reblog, feel free to add more tips for writers or correct anything I’ve gotten wrong here.
How to apply Writing techniques for action scenes:
- Short sentences. Choppy. One action, then another. When there’s a lull in the fight, take a moment, using longer phrases to analyze the situation–then dive back in. Snap, snap, snap.
- Same thing with words - short, simple, and strong in the thick of battle. Save the longer syllables for elsewhere.
- Characters do not dwell on things when they are in the heat of the moment. They will get punched in the face. Focus on actions, not thoughts.
- Go back and cut out as many adverbs as possible.
- No seriously, if there’s ever a time to use the strongest verbs in your vocabulary - Bellow, thrash, heave, shriek, snarl, splinter, bolt, hurtle, crumble, shatter, charge, raze - it’s now.
- Don’t forget your other senses. People might not even be sure what they saw during a fight, but they always know how they felt.
- Taste: Dry mouth, salt from sweat, copper tang from blood, etc
- Smell: OP nailed it
- Touch: Headache, sore muscles, tense muscles, exhaustion, blood pounding. Bruised knuckles/bowstring fingers. Injuries that ache and pulse, sting and flare white hot with pain.
- Pain will stay with a character. Even if it’s minor.
- Sound and sight might blur or sharpen depending on the character and their experience/exhaustion. Colors and quick movements will catch the eye. Loud sounds or noises from behind may serve as a fighter’s only alert before an attack.
- If something unexpected happens, shifting the character’s whole attention to that thing will shift the Audience’s attention, too.
- Aftermath. This is where the details resurface, the characters pick up things they cast aside during the fight, both literally and metaphorically. Fights are chaotic, fast paced, and self-centered. Characters know only their self, their goals, what’s in their way, and the quickest way around those threats. The aftermath is when people can regain their emotions, their relationships, their rationality/introspection, and anything else they couldn’t afford to think or feel while their lives were on the line.
Do everything you can to keep the fight here and now. Maximize the physical, minimize the theoretical. Keep things immediate - no theories or what ifs.
If writing a strategist, who needs to think ahead, try this: keep strategy to before-and-after fights. Lay out plans in calm periods, try to guess what enemies are thinking or what they will do. During combat, however, the character should think about his options, enemies, and terrain in immediate terms; that is, in shapes and direction. (Large enemy rushing me; dive left, circle around / Scaffolding on fire, pool below me / two foes helping each other, separate them.)
Lastly, after writing, read it aloud. Anyplace your tongue catches up on a fast moving scene, edit. Smooth action scenes rarely come on the first try.
a Cora/Maggie piece I deleted a while back, but after some time away from it, I feel better about it, so it’s back! @pearlouettes I don’t remember if you read it or not
Something shifted between them after the Coldspell festival. They weren't the lovers they used to be—and they certainly didn't confide in one another they way they would when they were younger—but while the weather stayed cold, their attitudes towards one another warmed. It was a subtle shift, as Maggie was still distant and Cora was more than willing to give her space, but neither went out of their way to actively avoid the other and when their paths did cross, Cora would softly smile at the other woman rather than ignore her completely.
An understanding had passed between them, even if forgiveness hadn't. They both knew Maggie's actions had altered their relationship into something neither of them recognized, but both were secretly happy to simply have a relationship between them again, even if there were still words left to be spoken about what had happened. As much as Cora wished to know the answers to her questions though, she would not be the one to make the first move. Not out of pride, but out of necessity.
There were more urgent matters than her complicated relationship with Maggie.
New recruits had to be trained to replace those that she had removed, maps needed to be studied to find the most likely points of access in the Duke's lands, and more of the Duke's guards needed to be evaluated. The fact that Maggie's father challenged her at every turn didn't make matters any easier for Cora. Every meeting with him left an ache pounding against her skull, which worsened with each doubt he voiced.
She wasn't fit to lead.
She wasn't strong enough to protect them.
She would never be good enough.
Cora shook those thoughts from her head and tried to come back to the here and now, where a fire blazed in the hearth across her room and the Duke was nowhere to be found. The cracks and pops of the wood were far more soothing than the thoughts that had been whirring through her head. Beside her, a smaller flame sat upon the candlewick, illuminating the maps that blanketed her desk. The candlelight flickered when she released a sigh of frustration. She wished she knew who she was dealing with. She knew Maggie's father was hiding something from her, and she had a feeling that knowing his secrets would make her job easier, but he was keeping them closely guarded, leaving her in the dark.
She sighed again and rubbed the back of her neck as she scoured the maps once more for viable routes the mercenaries could use to get into the Duke's lands undetected.
If it were her, she would brave the forest trails and trickle forces in until they created a flood of enemies for the Duke to deal with. But she had grown up in these lands and discovered the secrets of the surrounding forests years ago. While there was a multitude of hidden trails that could be taken if you knew them, the dangers of leaving the King's Road—bandits, Wild Ones, the forest itself—was enough to discourage strangers from following those winding routes. Unless the mercenaries had a guide to lead them through the lesser traveled trails, she doubted that was their entry point. Still, it would be worth a few soldiers to patrol those paths just in case.
Sneaking soldiers in a few at a time still seemed to be the best option, but without the cover of the forest it would take time and patience to get everyone into position. Or they could simply walk right in and take the place with overwhelming forces for all Cora knew. She scowled and crumpled one of the maps in her hand. This would be so much easier if she knew who was threatening the Duke and his family. She quietly cursed him under her breath for refusing to put aside his disdain for her. Sometimes she felt the Duke would rather have his castle and lands taken than see her succeed.
A knock at her door pulled Cora's attention from the maps. She looked up, expecting to find Ivan or Dinah filling the doorway, but she found Maggie lurking there instead, her face drawn in the serious expression Cora had become accustomed to over the last two months. There was a softness about the way she carried herself, though, that hadn't been there before the Coldspell festival. She almost seemed shy without the ramrod posture she usually held herself with. The dresses she usually wore had been replaced as well, exchanged for the winter clothes that she used to call Maggie's adventure ensemble.
Cora quirked an eyebrow at the outfit. Even when Maggie wandered the courtyard in the coldest parts of Coldspell, she had never seen her swap her elegant dresses for the heavy tunic and leggings she wore now.
“A bit late for a stroll around the castle, Your Grace,” Cora said.
“A bit late to be squinting at maps in the candelight, too, yet here we are: you squinting and me strolling,” Maggie replied.
Cora laughed and shook her head. “Funny, but I don't remember you being so fond of jokes.”
“Nor do I recall you being so enthralled by maps,” Maggie said before stifling silence engulfed them both.
The trouble was, they both remembered those things. As much as the memories pained them, they remembered everything.
Cora remembered rare glimpses of Maggie's childish side, and those glimpses were such a stark contrast to her stone-faced demeanor, it was hard to believe she was the same woman whenever she stuck her tongue out or turned sensual touches into tickling ones. And Maggie could easily recall the nights when she would have to physically pull Cora away from whatever book or scroll had caught her interest, things she herself had never been able to enjoy. But it was easier for both of them to pretend that they hadn't held on to those pleasant memories; easier to pretend they had stopped caring long ago.
Cora cleared her throat to break the suffocating silence and shuffled the maps on her desk. “So what can I do for you this evening, Your Grace?”
Maggie proceeded with caution, choosing her words carefully. “I had hoped to take a stroll, as you called it, beyond the castle walls,” she said. “Given the circumstances, I thought an escort would be wise.”
Cora nodded, and absently replied, “If you give me a moment, I'll find Ivan and Dinah. I'm sure they wouldn't mind getting out of the castle for the evening.”
Silence met the offer and when Cora looked up from her desk, she found the doorway empty once more. Cursing under her breath, she stood up and winced at the pain in her neck from hunching over so long. Then she followed after the much larger pain in her neck that had taken off down the hall. Maggie's long, quick strides had Cora jogging to catch up.
“You know, your impatience is a lot more irritating than I remember,” Cora said once she reached the larger woman. “It wouldn't have taken me that long to find Ivan and Dinah.”
“Your oblivious act is not exactly pleasant either,” Maggie replied in a clipped voice as she turned the corner at the end of the hall. Before Cora could ask what she was talking about, Maggie stopped and turned around, trapping the smaller woman in her icy gaze. “If I wanted Ivan and Dinah to escort me, I would have gone to them first, not you, and you know that.” She stepped closer and, after a moment of hesitation, she took Cora's hand in both of hers. “Please,” she started, the single, quiet word catching Cora off guard, “stop pretending like you did not know what I was suggesting.”
Cora pulled her hand from Maggie's and let it fall to her side. By the way her shoulders slumped, Cora knew which answer Maggie expected, and she hated that she felt guilty about it. She rubbed the back of her neck and sighed. It wasn't like she would get much more done with the maps without more information.
“Let me change into something a bit warmer,” she said, and the way Maggie's eyes widened was enough to stop Cora from regretting her answer.
Maggie waited in the corridor while Cora returned to her quarters to change, all the while wondering if she could really handle being alone with the smaller woman. She fidgeted with the hem of her tunic and bit her lip. There was so much she needed to say, but she would not be surprised if Cora refused to listen. And that was if she could work up the courage to say those things. She had not been brave in a long time; she wasn't sure she remembered how. She dropped the hem of her shirt when she caught sight of Cora again, dressed in the fine leather armor and dark, heavy cloak she had arrived in on that rainy day at the end of Mistfall. There was something about the attire that managed to take Maggie's breath away no matter how many times she saw Cora wear it.
“Almost ready,” Cora said as she tucked a powder blue scarf under her chin and wound it around her neck.
While she finished preparing for the cold, Maggie's gaze wandered down to the sword that now hung at Cora's hip. Sometimes it was easy to forget why Cora had returned to the keep, but then she would see the sword swinging along with Cora's gait and Maggie would be reminded of the circumstances that had brought the woman back into her life.
“I'm ready when you are, Your Grace,” Cora said.
Maggie was ready to loop her arm around Cora's the way she used to, but stopped herself at the last second. As much as she craved that closeness, she knew Cora was still uncomfortable with it. She had seen it in the way she pulled back her hand earlier and the way she held herself at a distance. Maggie settled for simply walking beside her.
Silence followed them through the wide halls of the castle, but it was not uncomfortable like it had been in Cora's quarters. That had been far too intimate a place for the awkward silence between them and was one of the reasons Maggie had refused to visit for so long. She only had so many words at her disposal and she never knew which ones would be the ones to dispel the awkwardness between them. It was easier to let Cora take the lead—it always had been—but she had destroyed any chance of Cora reaching out to her first, so now it was her turn to take the risk—if she could find the courage to follow through.
When they reached the door that led to the courtyard, Maggie and Cora nodded at the soldiers on guard, who saluted their commander and the future duchess before opening the door. Cora braced herself for the cold blast of air, but still shivered when it kissed her skin. She pulled the scarf over her mouth and nose and followed behind Maggie.
Despite the cold, Cora could admit it was the perfect night to leave the castle walls. After the initial cold burst, only a light breeze tossed loose snowflakes through the air. The cloudless, indigo sky was alight with twinkling stars and the light from the full moon bounced off the snow that lined the road to town. The moment Maggie stepped off the main road onto the winding trail that led to the forest, Cora's hopes of spending the evening in a warm tavern in town were dashed. She watched the larger woman walk towards the trees, then shook her head and followed behind her.
“You are aware I can hear you mumbling back there,” Maggie remarked as they stepped beyond the treeline.
“It's cold,” was Cora's muffled response.
Maggie slowed her steps until they were walking abreast on the narrow trail. She pursed her lips for a moment then draped her arm over Cora's shoulders so the smaller woman was safely tucked beneath the cloak. Maggie was unsure how comfortable Cora was with their sides pressed together. The last time they had been in such an intimate position was during the Coldspell festival and Cora had been the one to initiate the contact then, but nothing had passed between them since.
Cora wasn't sure how comfortable she was with the touch either. Pressed together at the festival, Maggie had been on her left side, but she needed her arm free now in case they ran into trouble, which was something Maggie seemed to to take into account. Unfortunately, Cora hadn't thought to attach the wooden piece to her shoulder before she left, and with Maggie moving so close to her, she was mentally kicking herself for forgetting it. Again.
When Maggie brushed against her shoulder without flinching, Cora breathed a sigh of relief.
“You were right, Your Grace, it is a nice night,” she conceded as they shuffled along the trail that wound its way through the bare trees. “I don't see why it couldn't have been enjoyed in the courtyard though,” she muttered.
“The courtyard loses its appeal when you've been confined to it all winter,” Maggie said. “Some of us don't have the pleasure of leading patrols whenever we feel the urge to leave the castle.”
“You say that like I enjoy freezing the last of my fingers off.”
Maggie snorted and covered her mouth with a gloved hand. “That's not funny,” she said as she struggled to school her features into a more neutral expression to match her words. As hard as she tried though, she couldn't shake the soft smile from her face. Jokes from Cora were sparse these days and, as morbid as they could be now, Maggie was happy to hear them again. “When you first returned, you truly seemed to favor that prospect more than speaking with me.”
“Well...”
“Oh.”
Maggie supposed she deserved that. She cleared her throat and quickly steered the conversation back to safer territory about Cora's assignment at the keep. Despite Cora's earlier response lurking at the back of her mind, Maggie caught herself smiling as the other woman talked about the soldiers that served under her, enchanted by the sound of Cora's voice and the way it rose and fell with her excitement.
With each step forward, Cora slipped further into storytelling, and the awkwardness she had first felt beside Maggie fell away as well. The words came easily as she wove together stories about rough mistakes the cocky new recruits had made during training and sang the praises of those who showed more promise than others. Maggie mostly listened in silence, but she occasionally interjected, asking about the names of the recruits in some stories or for clarification in others. However, the stories trailed off as the trees grew denser and those that had been bare were replaced with towering pines, whose needles sprinkled the snow beneath their sturdy branches.
It had always felt wrong to speak here, as if a whisper would shatter something sacred dwelling within the trees; something older than even the Wild Ones. The spell broke as it always did when they stepped beneath low-hanging pine branches dripping snow. When they stepped beyond the trees into the clearing that surrounded the lake, the cliff overlooking the water rose up beside them, the trail covered in snow drifts too deep for either of them to wade through.
A wave of nostalgia rolled over both women as they stared out at the frozen water. As long as she had been at the castle, Cora had avoided the lake and the memories held in its depths. Bathed in the moon's light, it was as beautiful as she remembered. She wiped at the moisture building in her eyes with the back of her hand and looked beside her, only to find Maggie watching her with a soft smile.
“What?” she asked as she stepped away from the taller woman.
Maggie shook her head and started walking towards the lake, her long strides plowing a trail through the snow. Cora cautiously followed in her steps until they reached the shore, where ice met freezing sand. There she stayed while Maggie continued moving forward.
“Your Grace, I'm not jumping in after you if you fall in,” Cora hissed, but Maggie ignored her.
The ice beneath her feet was thick and slick and even with her careful steps, there were several times where she nearly fell. Back on the shore, Cora watched as Maggie wobbled her way along the ice. It wasn't long before the ice beneath her feet got the better of her, however, and had her flat on her ass. Cora cursed under her breath and finally followed the other woman with shaky steps.
She stopped the moment she heard Maggie's boisterous laughter that had the woman shaking from the force of it. As if she had tried to hold it back, but for once, it pushed its way out, demanding to be heard. Maggie's eyes were tightly closed and one arm was crossed over her stomach as she leaned forward.
Hearing it now, Cora realized it was the first time she had heard Maggie truly laugh since she left the castle. Five years, and she finally realized just how much she had missed the laugh she had fallen in love with. The thought came unbidden, and she quickly pushed it to the back of her mind before she approached the duchess.
“Are you alright?” Cora asked as she knelt down beside the other woman.
Maggie took a deep breath to calm herself, but the moment she looked at Cora, the laughter bubbled up again. It wasn't until she laid down on her back and focused on the stars above that she was able to control herself again. There was still a smile on her face though, and when her gaze fluttered to Cora, she blushed and quickly looked back at the sky. Her heart skipped a beat when Cora laid down beside her on the ice.
“I apologize for the outburst,” Maggie said, still breathless. “It has been quite some time since I have been here.”
“Sounds like you needed it,” Cora remarked.
“Maybe,” Maggie said as she scooted closer to the smaller woman. “There was no need for you to lay with me, you know. You're probably freezing.”
“I'm fine,” Cora said, only to shiver a moment later. She turned her head and found Maggie's gaze lingering on her. “I survived the walk out here. I think I can survive this.”
“You've survived a lot of things, Commander,” Maggie said, “and I... Well, I destroyed a lot of things, didn't I?” Unable to hold Cora's gaze, she looked back up at the stars.
“Your Grace—”
“You know, when you first left, it was so easy to pretend you would be back in a few days,” Maggie started, “but the more serious your letters became, the harder it was to pretend and the less I knew what to say.” She paused to collect her thoughts, the asked, “What do you say to the woman who risks death every day? How do you comfort that woman with silly words in a letter when the only thing you want to do is hold her?” She rolled onto her side to face Cora. She took Cora's hand in hers and gathered as much courage as she could. “I have never been good with words, and because of that, I made the worst mistake I could have. I stopped trying,” she said. “Hurting you was the last thing I ever wanted to do. I hope you know that.”
She watched and she waited until Cora's hand slipped from hers and the other woman stood.
“Is that why you wanted me to come out here with you?” Cora asked. Maggie knew by the tone of her voice that she had chosen the wrong words yet again. “Did you think bringing me here would make it easier for me to forgive you?”
“No.” Maggie stood as well, and while she may have towered over Cora, she felt small trapped in her gaze. “I wanted you to accompany me here because I missed this,” she said. “I missed us.”
“There is no 'us' anymore,” Cora said. “You made that very clear to me when you stopped writing.”
Maggie's eyes narrowed and she stepped into Cora's personal space. “I am aware I stopped writing—you certainly won't let me forget it—but I am not the one who left,” she said. She balled her hands into fists as she added, “And you weren't the one who was left behind.”
“No, I was the one killing for the king, this country, and for a life with you. One you apparently didn't want as badly as I did,” Cora said with a scowl. “But please, continue to paint me as the one in the wrong.”
“I never asked that of you. I didn't even want you to go,” Maggie reminded her. “Or did you conveniently forget that?”
Cora threw her arm up and groaned in frustration. “And what was I supposed to do instead? Waste my life living in your shadow as a servant?”
“Is that all I was to you? A waste?”
Cora shook her head and said, “For someone who claims to be awful with words, you're great at twisting mine. I'm sure your father is proud to finally have a daughter just as slippery as him.”
“I am nothing like that man,” Maggie said through gritted teeth.
A bark of laughter, and Cora said, “Manipulative and unfeeling. You might as well be the same person.”
“I am not him,” Maggie said. She looked down at the ice and, quietly, repeated, “I'm not.” When she looked up again, she squared her shoulders and drew her mouth into a thin line. “This was a mistake,” she said. “I apologize for wasting your time, Commander.”
Maggie slowly started back towards the shore with wobbly steps. Meanwhile, Cora silently fumed on the ice as she watched the duchess walk away. She was more upset with herself than with Maggie. After all, she had been the one stupid enough to let her guard down and go with her. Things may have improved between them after the Coldspell festival, but not enough for them to spend time completely alone together it seemed. And maybe she hadn't reacted in the best way possible, but she also didn't enjoy being blindsided by a conversation she wasn't ready to have.
“All those excuses, and not one apology,” Cora muttered to herself before finally following Maggie.
It was going to be a long walk back to the castle.
A post to keep track of what order the pieces I’ve posted should be read in, or at least a general idea. Just a heads up that the Cora and Maggie pieces are kind of all over the place anyway because a lot of them were just pieces I wrote to explore their characters and relationship and I haven’t tied them all together yet. Will add more to this list as I write more segments.
“Do not 'Tess' me right now, Captain. This is a shit idea and you know it.”
Maya watched Tess pace the floor of her quarters. Noise from the deck penetrated the closed door, her crew's night of revelry piercing the thick air between the two of them. She sighed and rose from the edge of the bed. She placed her hands on Tess's shoulders to stop the pacing. Tess cast her an indignant look, but didn't pull away.
“You're right, Tess. It's a shit idea,” Maya said. “But I can't keep doin' this. I keep lyin' to myself, convincin' myself we're in the business of prisoner transport, but one look at 'em and I know those people aren't prisoners.”
Tess stared at her, long and hard, before she said, “This is because of that half-pint below decks, isn't it?” When Maya didn't respond, Tess's eyes narrowed. “I knew it. I knew this would happen. Captain, I told you not to get close to her. Now she's filling your head with things you shouldn't be thinking about.”
“She's making me to look at the things I've been more than willin' to ignore!”
Maya took a deep breath and turned away from Tess. While she had expected this response from her first mate, it didn't make the conversation any easier. A hand on her shoulder made her turn back towards Tess, whose expression had softened.
“So you would just leave us then? Not a word to the crew?”
“They'll find a new captain.”
Tess threw up her hands. “Then what is the point? You leaving will not change the fact that this is still happening.”
“But I won't be part of it!”
The words hung between them. While the laughter from outside could still be heard, Maya's declaration rang even louder. Tess ran her hand through her hair and shook her head.
“I understand,” she said. Maya started to speak, but Tess cut her off. “No, I really do. You're too good for this life. Too good for us. You always have been.” Her eyes turned hard as she said, “But you've been doing this for years now with no questions asked. Pretend all you like, but quitting does not absolve you of the wrongs you've committed. Not when you'll just be letting someone else take over.”
“So I should continue going on like this because if I don't do it, someone else will?”
“You should do whatever you believe is best for you,” Tess said. “And if pretending like your absence will make things better is what's best for you, then by all means, leave.”
Maya sighed, rubbed the back of her neck and looked up at the ceiling.
When she lowered her gaze, Tess's eyes had softened and Maya had to strain to hear her as she asked, “Why even tell me of your plans? You have no trouble abandoning the rest of the crew for some waif of a girl, so why not me.”
“You know this is about more than the girl,” Maya said. She reached for Tess's hands and when she didn't show signs of pulling away, she took them into her own. “And I told you because I know how you are. I didn't want you worryin' about me,” she said, but they both knew the true meaning behind her words: She couldn't bear to leave without a goodbye; not after the years they had spent side by side.
Title: Casting Anchor (Part II)
Summary: The not-so-famous Captain Maya returns home from her latest delivery in time for her city’s unity festival. She can’t stay long before her next voyage, but she’ll be damned if she doesn’t spend time with her family before it’s time to ship out again.
Author’s Note: This is a first draft of Maya’s first chapter. It still needs work, but I am satisfied with where it is for now and feel comfortable letting you all take a look at it.
When they pulled apart, a toothy grin brightened his dark face and he kept his hands on her shoulders. “You've been gone too long yet again, Maya,” he said, “but I'm happy you've found your way home in time for the festival.”
She wrapped her hands around his wrists and smiled softly. “I can't stay long, Papa.”
“You never can,” he said with a nod, “What's the good in being the captain of your own ship if you can't take one day to spend as you like?”
Maya pulled away and returned her gaze to the floor. It was so much easier to face than her Papa's sad eyes. Sometimes she wondered if it would be best if she stopped visiting when she only had to leave so soon after. But she was selfish. She needed them more than they needed her. Needed the reminder of who she used to be so she could survive who she was now.
“I can give you one day,” she said as she finally looked up and met his gaze. “Like you said: what’s the good in bein’ captain if I can't spend a day with my family?” She took her Papa's hands in her own and her golden eyes brightened as she beamed at him. “You two get dressed. I'll wake the others and make sure they're presentable.”
She placed a quick kiss on his smooth cheek, leaving him wide-eyed as she twirled around him and slipped out the door to the front room.
Grunts of displeasure filled the living space as Maya went about the room waking her younger siblings, whether it was with rough kicks to their feet or ruffling their hair. When their eyes landed on her, however, their faces lit up and they quickly clambered to their feet and swarmed her. A warmth filled her chest as they wrapped their arms around her, each one of them chattering, pleading for a story from the sea, asking if she had met mermaids and the other monsters lurking in the depths, asking if she had brought them anything.
Maya laughed—and it felt so good to laugh with them after so many months—and lifted the smallest one onto her hip. “Be calm. I can only answer one question at a time,” she said, laughter still in her voice. “I have not met any sea monsters or mermaids just yet,” she said, and a chorus of groans filled the space around her. She shushed them and continued, saying, “No sea monsters, but I did escape the clutches of pirates.” The curly-haired boy in her hands—Mykah—squealed in delight and wiggled in her grip until she placed him back on the floor with the other children. “And there are no gifts this time, but I think I can find you all something at the festival today.”
“You're staying?”
The question came from the shaggy-haired figure leaning against the wall, lanky arms crossed over their chest. Makani. She was their fathers' fifth child, but not by birth like Maya and her younger brother Isaac. They had found her begging on the streets of J'onis when Maya and her Da still worked at the docks together. She had been nothing but skin and bones hidden beneath layers of dirt and bloody scrapes when they brought her home, sick from too much sun and too little clean water.
She wasn't the first child Maya's parents had taken in, but she was the first to fight them every step of the way, to hiss and kick as they scrubbed the grime from her cuts and chopped off the dead bits of knotted hair. Maya still had a pair of crescent-shaped scars on her forearm where Makani's teeth had dug in and broken the skin. Despite the years that had passed, she was just as surly now as she had been back then.
“I'm stayin',” Maya said. She rubbed the back of her neck as she added, “For the day, I mean.”
Makani rolled her eyes and pushed off the wall. Before her sour mood could infect the rest of Maya's siblings, the door to their parents' room opened. Her Da leaned heavily on a cane as he stepped into the front room. Beside him, her Papa fidgeted with the blue scarf hanging from his neck until her Da told him he looked fine.
“Now stop messin' with the damn thing and wake your son up,” he said in a gruff voice.
When her Papa returned, her stout brother followed behind him from the only other bedroom in the cottage, scratching the back of his bald head as he stifled a yawn. While she had gotten their Papa's height, Isaac had inherited their Da's short and stocky build. His wife Jules wasn't far behind, rubbing her eyes. Their twin children were somewhere in the sea of children that had swelled around Maya. Isaac greeted her with a tired wave, but didn't say much, most likely too tired for coherent thought.
She smiled at the sight of her family together—even Makani sulking in the corner—and an old wish tugged at her heart. To go back to work at the docks, where she would be close to home and her family. To see them grow. But the sea had lured her in, sweet as any siren's song, and sunk its hooks into her heart. There was no leaving it now.
Not to mention the coin her job provided her.
“Alright, alright. Stop crowdin' your sister. We're leavin' now,” her Papa said as he ushered the children towards the front door. “That means you too, Makani.”
There was a groan in response, but Makani shuffled away from the corner and followed the herd of children out the front door into the early morning air.
Maya and Isaac easily pulled the cart carrying their family from the outskirts of the city to its center, where merchants from across the region had gathered to sell their wares. Maya still remembered when she and her Da used to use the cart for the large crates that needed to be taken from the docks to the storage yards in the city. Those days had ended with her Da's accident, but as their family grew, they had found a new way to utilize the cart.
When they entered the densely-populated square, her Da called a halt and Maya and Isaac dropped the handles of the wagon. They grinned at one another, glad that neither one of them had lost a step over the months. While Isaac went to the back of the wagon to gather his family, Maya grabbed her Da's cane while he gingerly slipped from the seat at the front of the wagon. Her Papa provided a steadying hand until Maya handed him his cane, which he promptly used to swat her leg.
“You dragged us here at the crack of dawn, Little One,” he said, “so how 'bout you find us something to eat?”
Maya nodded and stepped away from the cart. Her Da joined her, most likely because he would stay with the cart when the rest of them went down to the shore to join the dancers. As much as he loved the sea, the reminder of what he had lost was too painful for him to return, so he would enjoy his time with his daughter while they shopped.
They were studying the pendants of a young woman's stall when her Da gently tapped his cane against her shin. Maya looked up from the piece in her palm.
“You've been distant, Little One,” he said.
She rolled her eyes and returned her attention to the pendant. “I've been at sea.”
“You know that's not what I mean, Maya,” he said. “Even when you're here, you aren't. It's gettin' to be like you can't stand to be home anymore.”
“I'm just tired,” she said. She dug into her coin purse and pulled out two gold pieces. After she handed them over, she turned to find her Da watching her with golden eyes so like her own. She squirmed under his gaze and rubbed the back of her neck. “A lot has been weighin' on me lately, Da, and I'm sorry I've been distant. Next time I'm home, I'll stay longer.”
“I know your Papa will appreciate that. He misses his oldest daughter,” he said with a grin. She pouted and her Da laughed. He reached up and placed his hand on her shoulder. “I'm already looking forward to your next visit, Little One.”
Maya rolled her eyes and stuffed the pendant into the pouch hanging from her belt. The morning quiet hung between her and her Da as they perused the rest of the stalls and she picked out gifts for each of her siblings. Once she had something for each of them, along with several sticks in her hands with pieces of meat speared on them, they made their way back to the wagon. She smiled when she caught sight of Isaac and quickened her pace, but her Da stopped in his tracks.
“Maya,” he called, and when she turned around, the worry she found etched on his face made her chest ache. “If somethin' were wrong, you know you could tell us, right? That's what your family is for, and the gods know you got a big enough one.”
Maya smiled and nodded. “I know, Da, but I'll be alright.”
If it weren't for the guilt gnawing at her stomach, she could almost believe it.
For the rest of the day, Maya let herself forget about the troubles weighing on her shoulders. Instead, she spent it giving her siblings the gifts she had bought at the stands, munching on smoked meats and fish, and dancing on the shore with her family. She even tugged Makani away from the shallow sea water to join her for a dance despite the girl's surly attitude. As they kicked up the white sand with their bare feet, the seemingly permanent scowl on her sister's face eventually faded and a grin appeared that was wide enough to rival Maya's as the music filled them.
But the day couldn't last forever, as much as Maya wished it could. Too soon, the sun was sinking below the horizon, setting the sea ablaze in its golden light. The descending sun did little to dishearten the revelers, though, and fires were quickly lit along the shore as the moon and stars replaced the sun. Maya shared one last dance with her Papa, twirling along the edges of the firelight until the song ended.
When they headed back up to the city, Maya cradled one of the sleeping twins—she couldn't tell whether they were Iris or Jayden—while Isaac held the other against his chest. Myka had scrambled up Maya's back somewhere along the way and had his arms looped around her neck, careful not to bump the sleeping child in her arms with his knees. Makani had Jessa's hand in hers as well, and the sleepy girl could barely keep up. Noah had stayed behind with their Da to keep him company in the square, and he eagerly waved at them when they approached the wagon.
The trip back to the cottage was too short, filled with a tense silence only broken by the soft snores of the children and the creak of the wagon wheels. Once they were home, the sleeping children were gently carried inside and laid on the floor beside each other. Sleepy objections were uttered by each of them, but they were all quieted with a quick kiss to the temple before they were covered with a scratchy blanket. Makani huddled in the corner with a blanket of her own, glaring at Maya over its edge.
“You won't be staying for the night, will you?”
Maya shook her head. “I've already stayed too long.”
Her Da huffed and looked away, but her Papa wrapped her in a hug that didn't last nearly long enough. He slipped his blue scarf over head as he pulled away. The smile on his face didn't quite reach his eyes.
“To keep those unruly locks of yours out of your eyes,” he said before he nudged her Da towards her.
He was always the hardest goodbye and when she pulled him into a hug, she squeezed her eyes shut against threatening tears.
“Remember your promise, Little One.”
She nodded, unable to speak.
After the goodbyes were said and done, Maya headed down the gravel path with a heavy heart. Even the sight of her ship bobbing in the water near the docks couldn't lift her spirits. Tess's crossed arms and tapping foot did nothing to help her mood as she walked up the ramp to the deck.
“Where have you been? Do you know how long you've kept them waiting?
“They've waited months for us to come back. One more day wouldn't have killed 'em,” Maya said as she started across the deck towards her quarters where her employers were bound to be waiting for her.
Tess grabbed her hand and tugged her back.
“I know that look in your eye, Captain. Take a moment and regain your senses.”
She yanked her hand away and glared at Tess. “You said yourself I shouldn't have kept 'em waiting. I'm being a good lapdog and reporting back.”
“Maya!” Her name was harsh on Tess's tongue, a foreign sound coming from her first mate. When Maya's gaze met hers, Tess's eyes softened and she said, “Please refrain from saying something you'll regret while you're in there.”
“Make sure our new companions are comfortable below deck,” was all Maya said before she disappeared behind the door to her quarters.
As she suspected, a young man and woman awaited her at her desk. Their clothes were far finer than her own, the cool silk of their tunics shimmering in the candlelight. They wore matching grim expressions. The man in the chair at her desk cleared his throat and adjusted his vest while his partner glared at Maya from his side.
“You know how much we hate waiting,” the man said.
Maya shrugged. “I got caught up in the excitement of the festival is all.”
The woman's eyes narrowed and her grip tightened on the back of the chair. “We don't pay you to get caught up in festivities.”
“No, you pay me to ship your precious cargo before the weak ones can die from whatever sicknesses they've caught from your prison cells, and that's exactly what I do,” she said. “Remind me, how many have I lost since you hired me?”
“None,” the woman said through gritted teeth.
“None,” Maya repeated, nodding. “Meanwhile, the rest of your ships might as well be costing you money with how many prisoners they lose on the voyage. All the gold I'm saving you, I would think that would have earned me at least one day of rest before you send me back on my merry way.”
“Don't forget who you are speaking to, you little urchin!”
The man waved his hand. “That's enough Luna,” he said, and his companion fell silent. He stood from the chair and absently flicked through the maps on Maya's desk as he said, “It would seem our captain here has been feeling a little overworked and under-appreciated. Such a nasty combination, you can't fault her for needing a day to recuperate. But I am sure the time spent with her family has been enough to rejuvenate her.” Maya's breath caught in her throat at the mention of her family. He shifted his gaze from the maps and when his bright blue eyes met hers, a chill tingled up her spine. “We have nothing to worry about. Isn't that right, Maya?”
Unable to find her voice, Maya nodded.
Her boss clapped his hands together and his lips curled into a smile that made her stomach twist into a knot.
“You don't know how happy I am to hear that,” he said as he approached. Her muscles tensed as he draped his arm over her shoulder and pulled her closer. “Now, this voyage is going to be a bit longer than the last, but that just means a bigger purse for you, my friend. I'm sure someone of your ilk can appreciate that.” He withdrew an envelope from his fur-lined vest and placed it in Maya's hand. The sickening smile was still on his face as he said, “Don't let me down, Captain.”
Her throat was dry and her voice came out in a rasp when she said, “I won't.”
“Those are the very words I love to hear, my dear,” he said. He returned his gaze to Luna, much to Maya's relief. “Come now, Luna. I don't believe we'll be having any more trouble from our captain here. Let us return to our own business so she can get back to hers.”
Luna left the desk to join her partner's side. The man gave Maya a parting smile that made her skin crawl. Distracted, she didn't see Luna's punch coming until it was too late. The wind left her as Luna buried her fist in her stomach. Maya wheezed, gasping for breath, only to catch another blow to the head that made her stumble to the floor. A well-aimed kick to the ribs had her struggling to curl into a ball to protect herself from any other blows.
“I trust you won't be late for our next meeting,” Luna said before she followed the man outside.
Maya lay there still gasping for the breath that had been stolen from her when Tess came through the door. She heard a muffled voice before Tess's soft hands were on her shoulders, easing her into a sitting position. Pain flared in her side and her head spun, but she was grateful for the salty air finally reaching her lungs. Tess rubbed soothing circles against her back and Maya leaned her head against Tess's shoulder, grateful for the support.
“You're alright, love.”
She took Maya by the elbow and helped her to her feet. Maya allowed her to lead her to the bed and complied as Tess's hands guided her down to the sturdy mattress. The bobbing of the ship did nothing to help her spinning head, but at least the bed was stable beneath her. Tess left her for a moment to rummage through the desk drawer. She returned with a rag and the decanter of wine from the night before. She poured a liberal amount of the drink onto the rag and dabbed at Maya's split lip, her touch filled with a fond tenderness.
“I thought I told you not to say something stupid.”
When Maya stayed silent, Tess sighed and returned her attention to the task at hand. Once the cut was cleaned, she inspected the rest of Maya's hurts, tsk'ing at the bruises already starting to swell over her torso and the knot on her temple. She set the rag and decanter on the floor before she gently placed her hand against Maya's cheek and gave her a soft smile.
Title: Casting Anchor (Part I)
Summary: The not-so-famous Captain Maya returns home from her last delivery in time for her city’s unity festival. She can’t stay long before her next voyage, but she’ll be damned if she doesn’t spend time with her family before it’s time to ship out again.
Author’s Note: This is a first draft of Maya’s first chapter. It still needs work, but I am satisfied with where it is for now and feel comfortable letting you all take a look at it.
Moonlight shimmered on the glassy surface of the water, winking in and out of sight as small waves rippled through the reflection. The night air was warm and the soft breeze carried the smell of salt and fish from the water up to the city of lights twinkling far above the docks and the sandy shores. Bonfires dotted the shores, circled by dancers and lovers alike. A ragtag group armed with lutes, drums, and flutes offered up a song for the air to carry across the sea, but the music didn't quite reach the lone ship bobbing out on the water or the woman sitting in its crow's nest, her long, thick legs dangling over the edge as she rested her chin on her hands propped up on the wooden railing that encircled her.
A soft smile rested on Maya's lips as the boat inched closer to land with each gust of wind. As much as she loved the open sea and all the freedom it offered up to her, months away from home still took their toll on her.
“Captain!”
She shifted her gaze from the shore down to the deck, where a member of her crew waited patiently. She slid her thick body under the railing and dropped down to the ropes dangling below. Her movements were steady on the ropes that rocked beneath her as she scrambled her way to the deck. She jumped the last few feet and once she had acclimated to the stable boards beneath her, she turned to face the man who had called to her.
“Tess was lookin' for ya,” he told her. “Should've guessed you'd be up there.”
“She knew exactly where I'd be. She's just too busy lazin' about to fetch me herself,” she said. She placed her hand on the man's shoulder and gave it a rough squeeze. “Tell Hakim we'll be usin' the far docks tonight. Too many festivities this week to cast anchor on the beach.”
“He's not gonna be pleased about that,” the gruff man groused.
“Tell him I'll buy him a drink if he can get us ashore without scrapin' up the ship,” she said with a wink before she left the man and went in search of Tess, the golden beads in her dark locs jingling behind her.
She found the lanky, dark-haired woman in the captain's quarters sitting in a rough wooden chair with her legs propped up on the desk set against the wall. A large-brimmed red and black hat hid her face and muffled her soft snores. Maya rolled her eyes before she crossed the room and shoved Tess's booted feet off the desk. Her first mate startled in the chair and the hat fell from her face. She glared at Maya as she retrieved the hat off of the floor and settled it back on her head.
“It's about time you showed up,” Tess said in a smooth voice that had captivated men and women alike throughout the taverns of Marvadel. “I thought Jamal would never find you.”
“Aren't these supposed to be my quarters?” Maya asked with a raised eyebrow. “And you're the one who sent him instead of coming to find me yourself, ya lazy git.” Tess absently waved off Maya's words as she opened a drawer on the desk and pulled out a glass decanter of dark red wine and two tumblers. She glanced at Maya, who only shrugged and said, “Help yourself, but I think I'll wait 'til we're ashore.”
“Always the responsible captain,” Tess teased before she filled her glass.
Maya shook her head, but said nothing as she walked to the porthole by the side of her bed. The calm she had felt while up in the crows nest had fled, replaced by the burden of responsibility Tess had mentioned. Suddenly, the prospect of returning home was no longer appealing. As she stared out at the dark waves, soft footsteps approached and a pair of hands rested on her shoulders.
“Relax, Captain,” Tess said in a soft voice. “Maybe you should have that drink. Loosen you up a bit before we drop anchor.”
The skilled hands started to knead the thick muscle near Maya's shoulder blades, and her shoulders drooped as her eyes slipped closed. She hummed in pleasure and indulged in the comfort a moment longer before she turned away from the window and took Tess's hands in hers, marveling at the smooth skin against her rough, calloused palms.
To Maya, that was the most striking thing about her first mate.
Despite her experience on the sea, Tess's skin had remained soft—mostly because she talked others into doing the heavy work for her aboard the ship. But it was more than that. From her voice to her quiet, fluid movements, everything about her was soft. It was no wonder she had a line of lovers lusting after her in every port, along with several aboard their own ship.
“Thank you,” Maya said, “but my original decision stands. No drinks for me until we're safely on land where I can make all the foolish choices I like.” She laughed at the frown on Tess's face and playfully draped her arm over her shoulders. “You almost had me there, though,” she said before she planted an affectionate kiss on a pale cheek that flushed red at the contact.
Tess scowled and rubbed at her cheek as Maya slid away from her. “How is it you have remained immune to my charms all these years, yet you can make me blush like some untouched virgin with one sloppily placed kiss on the cheek?”
“Maybe you're not as charming as you think.”
Maya laughed when Tess swatted her arm.
Dawn was edging its way over the horizon by the time the ship reached the docks near the cliffs that loomed over the sea. A fire blazed at the top of the lighthouse that stood at the edge of the cliff, but even with the light it provided and the brightening sky, docking was a precarious task. Maya's helmsman Hakim muttered beside her as he edged the ship around the rocks lurking just beneath the water's surface. Maya didn't speak his language, but judging by the tone of his voice, her ignorance was probably for the best.
Once the anchor was cast and the ship was secured, Maya lowered the ramp from the ship down to the docks. As they disembarked, Maya inspected what she could see of her vessel. Despite Hakim's best efforts, a long scrape marred the hull of the ship.
“Jamal, tell your man that last rock left a mark,” she said to the lithe sailor she had spoken with earlier. He repeated the words in the foreign tongue he shared with Hakim, who scoffed and said something that sounded far from pleasant. Maya laughed and said, “Don't worry. You still earned that drink.”
As they reached the end of the docks, Tess stepped closer and wrapped her arms around one of Maya's, whispering, “Don't forget you owe me one, too.”
“I would never,” Maya replied, “but there's somewhere I need to go before you leeches drain me dry.”
“Of course,” Tess said with a nod. “You know where to find us when you're done, love.”
She disentangled herself from Maya and gestured for the crew to follow her so Maya could take care of business. Tess offered a parting smile before she led the rest of the crew along the cobbled path that wound its way up the cliff to the coastal city. Maya watched them leave before she headed down her own path that curved around the cliff side.
She had walked the narrow path more times than she could count since she was a child, whether she was heading to the city with her parents or chasing her squealing siblings to the docks. She breathed in the sweet scent of the pink and blue flowers blooming on the cliff face, and a hint of the sea wafting behind it. The familiar smell brought a smile to her face and she absently plucked several of the blossoms from their craggy homes. As she walked, she twisted the stems and knotted them together. When she reached the cottage at the end of the cobbled path, the handful of flowers had transformed into a loose circle that she held gently in one hand while she opened the door to the cottage with the other.
The door creaked open, revealing the wide living space of the cottage. Several prone figures were sprawled over the floor and the familiar sound of snores filled Maya's ears. Somewhere near the wide window, someone murmured in their sleep and shifted their position. She shook her head at the sleeping arrangement before stepping carefully over her younger siblings. She was practically dancing as she picked her way among the slumbering children until she reached the door on the far wall of the living room. Once she was sure she hadn't woken any of them, she cracked open the door and slipped inside.
In the flickering candlelight she saw her Papa tucked between the wall and her Da, their hands clasped even in sleep. Beside him, her Da sat with his back propped up with pillows piled against the bed's headboard, his bearded face hidden behind a book. Wordlessly, she approached the bed and pulled the book out of her Da's hand. His golden eyes flickered to her sun-kissed face. If he was surprised to see her, his face didn't show it.
“Welcome back, Little One,” he said in a hushed voice. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. A smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “You bring the sea with you.”
“I always do,” she replied before she leaned forward and placed the circle of flowers over his head. Before she pulled away, she placed a quick kiss against his temple. “I missed you, Da.”
“And we missed you,” he said before he turned to his husband and shook his shoulder.
Maya's Papa snorted as he jolted awake. He glared at his husband for rousing him, who only nodded his flowered head towards Maya. When her Papa's gaze met hers, Maya rubbed the back of her neck and studied the floorboards. Blankets rustled and floorboards creaked before she was engulfed in her Papa's lanky arms.
“Good morning, Papa,” she said as she returned the hug.
Title: Rites of Passage
Summary: Edana and Shana, two of the most promising warriors of their clan, are finally going to complete their Excursion so they can be considered full-fledged warriors. But they can only succeed if they don’t kill each other first. Luckily, Elowyn has come along for the ride, even if she isn’t technically supposed to be there. Rules were meant to be broken, right?
Author’s Note: The first draft of one of my first chapters for the Dragon Riders. This is the second part of the chapter, but it got long so the first part can be found here. The Excursion itself will most likely take up two chapters, and the second chapter will be posted at a later date.
The three dragons landed around a shrine of scorched and scarred stone that rose from the earth. The sculpture was of a dragon rearing on its hind legs, its mouth a vicious snarl. It’s claws swiped at an invisible enemy in the air and the massive tail curled around its body. Unlit candles trailed up the spine, each one wedged into the stone. Hardened rivulets of wax filled the cracks between the stone scales. The shrine had weathered storms and withstood forest fires since the ancient ones formed the clans, and Edana knew it would stand tall long after she was gone.
The dragons knelt and the three young women slid down to the ground. They gathered at the base of the shrine and craned their necks to see the top of the statue. It had seemed small from the backs of their dragons, but on the ground they were dwarfed by its shadow. A hush fell over the area as Edana raised her fist. Shana followed suit. When Edana opened her hand, Aerys released a stream of fire that lit the right row of candles that ran up the sculpture’s spine. Shana opened hers and Nightshade’s stream of fire joined Aerys’s on the second row of candles.
Title: Rites of Passage
Summary: Edana and Shana, two of the most promising warriors of their clan, are finally going to complete their Excursion so they can be considered full-fledged warriors. But they can only succeed if they don’t kill each other first. Luckily, Elowyn has come along for the ride, even if she isn’t technically supposed to be there. Rules were meant to be broken, right?
Author’s Note: The first draft of one of my first chapters for the Dragon Riders. This is the second part of the chapter, but it got long so the first part can be found here. The Excursion itself will most likely take up two chapters, and the second chapter will be posted at a later date.
The three dragons landed around a shrine of scorched and scarred stone that rose from the earth. The sculpture was of a dragon rearing on its hind legs, its mouth a vicious snarl. It's claws swiped at an invisible enemy in the air and the massive tail curled around its body. Unlit candles trailed up the spine, each one wedged into the stone. Hardened rivulets of wax filled the cracks between the stone scales. The shrine had weathered storms and withstood forest fires since the ancient ones formed the clans, and Edana knew it would stand tall long after she was gone.
The dragons knelt and the three young women slid down to the ground. They gathered at the base of the shrine and craned their necks to see the top of the statue. It had seemed small from the backs of their dragons, but on the ground they were dwarfed by its shadow. A hush fell over the area as Edana raised her fist. Shana followed suit. When Edana opened her hand, Aerys released a stream of fire that lit the right row of candles that ran up the sculpture's spine. Shana opened hers and Nightshade's stream of fire joined Aerys's on the second row of candles.
Once the candles were lit, Elowyn turned her back on the ritual while Edana and Shana wordlessly rummaged through their packs hanging from their saddles. After passing over more rations, Edana found the incense the elder had given her. She pulled the thin sticks from the pack and went to the tail of the statue. Shana met her there, an engraved bowl in hand. Edana gave her one of the incense. Once they were lit, they placed them in the holder and carefully carried it to the front of the shrine, where they set it at the dragon's stone feet.
Edana and Shana quietly recited the prayers to their ancestors in a tongue not quite their own. The literal translation of the words had been lost ages ago as the languages of the clans evolved, but the meaning behind them was still heavy on their tongues. Once the words died on their lips, the smoke from the incense carried the prayers skyward and Edana and Shana slowly opened their eyes.
A weight lifted from Edana's shoulders, as if someone had loaned her their strength. Judging by Shana's lax posture, she felt the same. Relieved, they shared a rare smile and slowly stood up. When they realized their hands were still clasped, they quickly broke apart and took a step back from one another. Shana busied herself by unloading her bags from Nightshade's back.
Edana awkwardly cleared her throat and said, “We're done, El, you can turn around now,” before she walked over to Aerys to unload her bedroll. The dragon's curious gaze followed her every move. She felt a familiar warmth pressing against the back of her neck and scowled when it started to spread. It was less of a physical sensation and more of a mental one. Aerys's annoying habit of trying to get into her head, to learn how she was feeling and what she was thinking without asking.
Stop.
The warmth disappeared and Aerys jerked beneath her touch. The dragon sighed and Edana felt a wave of guilt roll over her, but she shrugged it off and finished untying the bedroll from the saddle. Aerys didn't need access to every part of her.
“You shouldn't block him out like that,” Elowyn said as Edana carried her bedroll past her. “He just wants to know you're okay.”
“I'm fine,” Edana grumbled as she laid the furs out on the ground and smoothed out the wrinkles.
Elowyn crouched beside her and rested her hand on Edana's. “You're scared,” she said. Edana jerked her gaze up from the furs and glared at Elowyn, but she refused to wither under the harsh gaze. “You can't be scared, Edana. Not of Aerys. He won't hurt you.”
Edana pulled her hand away and stood up. “I'm going to gather supplies. I'll be back later.”
Shana looked up from the map in her hands and arched an eyebrow. “The sun's almost down. Is that really wise?”
“I guess we'll find out,” Edana said as she shouldered one of her empty packs. “I'd rather not waste time doing it tomorrow.”
Shana rolled her eyes. “Fine. Waste time scrounging around in the dark instead,” she said. “Makes sense to me.”
“Well nobody asked you,” Edana snapped before she disappeared beyond the dark tree line.
When she returned, the sun had sunk below the horizon and Shana and Elowyn had made a small fire to fend off the darkness and the creatures that thrived in it. In the firelight, they could see Edana's clothing was worse for wear—she had stumbled over tree roots and slipped in the muddy earth several times in the darkness—but the pack slung over her shoulder was full of the treasures she had found. The anger that had rolled off her in waves had also dissipated now that she had had time to herself.
She threw the full pack at Shana, who let out a soft 'oomph' when it hit her in the chest. Inside, she found roots, nuts, and berries to add to their food supply, along with several rocks to use in their slings. Wordlessly, Edana sat beside Elowyn, who tried to apologize as best she could, but Edana only shook her head and leaned into Elowyn's side. She was already forgiven.
But the words she had spoken earlier lingered in Edana's thoughts long into the night, even as she settled into her bedroll beside Elowyn and Shana. The words had plagued her during her venture into the forest as well, but she had been able to distract herself then. Now she only had her thoughts to occupy herself.
She rolled onto her side and gazed at Aerys's dark form in the low firelight. He blended in with the shadows that surrounded them. The only thing that gave him away was the way the fire glinted off the dark, shimmering scales. As if feeling her gaze, Aerys sleepily opened one red eye. Edana huffed and quickly rolled onto her back to stare up at the blanket of stars burning in the night sky.
She wasn't afraid of Aerys. What kind of Rider would she be if she was afraid of her own dragon? She sighed, and rolled onto her other side, her back to Aerys.
No, she wasn't afraid of her dragon. The fear was of something greater than that. Unbidden, dark thoughts of Jonah came and her breath hitched in her chest. The hardened expression her mind conjured sent a shudder down her spine. She still couldn't reconcile the ruthless man he had become with the smiling boy he had been. The bonding with Jaz had twisted him, contorting him into someone Edana no longer recognized.
Soft breaths against her neck momentarily drew her out of her thoughts. Elowyn had scooted closer to her in her sleep and buried her face in Edana's neck. A pang shot through Edana's chest as she watched over her. She tucked a stray hair behind Elowyn's ear and placed a soft kiss against her forehead.
Elowyn's bonding had changed her, too. Just like Jonah, she had become more dragon than human. Driskani. It was evident in the way she moved and the way she spoke. And while Mar was a mellower dragon than Jaz, there were still times when Elowyn forgot her human nature completely and reverted to something wild trapped in her own skin.
Edana's gaze traveled over the women sleeping next to her and landed on Mar. The small dragon met her eyes and, as if sensing the tension between them, Elowyn shifted and murmured meaningless words against Edana's skin until she relaxed. Slowly, Edana's thoughts quieted and she allowed herself to close her eyes. The last sleepy thought she had was of Aerys.
She knew she wasn't afraid of him.
She was afraid of becoming him.
The last vestiges of a dream clung to the edges of her mind as Edana awoke in the cold grey of pre-dawn. Beside her, Shana's face was still burrowed in the crook of Elowyn's neck, whose side was still pressed comfortably against Edana's. Gently, she disentangled herself from her companions and stretched as she circled the camp they had set up for themselves. The cool morning air kissed away any lingering grogginess, but fragments of her dream remained. She paused her pacing beside Aerys, who watched her movements curiously without lifting his head from the ground. She knelt so they were eye level and absently scratched the underside of his chin.
“Sneaking into my dreams isn't a fair fight, Aerys,” she chided, but there was no venom in her tone like there had been the night before. The dragon lifted his massive head and nudged Edana's chest with his snout until she was pushed off balance onto the grass. While she was still sprawled out on the ground, Aerys rested his heavy head on her chest to trap her against the ground and flicked his tongue against her chin, leaving a thick line of slime on her skin.
“And El says I act like a child,” Edana muttered, but she rubbed the thick ridge of his nose. “You have to know you're not the one I fear, Aerys. I trust you with my life,” she said, but she left the words Aerys needed to hear unsaid. Telling him she trusted him with her mind was a lie too hard for her to tell. Instead, she sighed and said, “I'll work on the rest, my friend. I promise.”
That was enough for the dragon, who flicked his tongue once more before he lifted his head off her chest and slowly rose to all fours. His black scales glittered with the morning dew as he unfolded his body and blocked the sun's slow ascent from Edana's view. She met his expectant gaze and rolled her eyes, but got up and walked across the camp to where Shana had piled their packs the night before to block the wind. When she returned, she was dwarfed by the large saddle in her arms and the reins piled on top of it.
After the reins had been secured and the saddle cinched at the base of Aerys's neck, Edana climbed into the seat and patted the dragon's neck once she was ready. The earth shook beneath Aerys's feet as he sprinted across the open field and the roar of wind from the rise and fall of his wings filled Edana's ears. Soon they had gained enough speed with Aerys's long, powerful strides. It wasn't long before they were airborne and Edana was filled with a different kind of rush. The kind that filled her chest to nearly bursting until she released a yell of exhilaration.
Once they were high above the plains, she dropped the reins and lay down, resting her head on her hands as she stared at the immense ocean of brightening skies above her. Way up there, skirting along the edges of the clouds, she could forget the problems that awaited her back home. All that mattered was the rise and fall of Aerys's torso gently lifting and lowering her as they glided on the wind currents. Lost in the rhythm of Aerys's breathing, Edana closed her eyes and slipped into the dragon's senses, marveling once more at the sights, sounds, and smells that were hidden from her.
It never ceased to amaze her how open her dragon was with her.
No matter how often she pushed Aerys away from her own consciousness, the dragon always shared his self with her. He never cut off the connection, never pulled away to punish her. One day she would repay him for that, but for now she let herself get lost in the dragon's senses.
When Edana returned to the ground, the sun had inched above the horizon. Shana and Elowyn had awoken and were huddled around the low flames of the campfire from the night before.
“Nice ride?” Shana asked as she used a stick to flip a rabbit leg roasting over the red coals of the fire.
“Refreshing,” Edana said as she took a seat beside Elowyn, who was already tearing into her own rare haunch of rabbit meat.
Once Edana was settled, Elowyn offered her a bit of the undercooked meat, but she declined. Elowyn only shrugged and chomped on the remaining bits of meat. Edana grimaced at the red juices dribbling down Elowyn's chin. Luckily, the piece Shana thrust in front of her had a crisp char—just how she liked it—and she gladly accepted.
“Elowyn thought freshly-caught breakfast would be a good start to our Excursion,” Shana said, “but somehow I ended up cleaning it and cooking it.”
“Would you really want to eat anything Elowyn prepared?”
Shana grimaced and shook her head.
The meal was over too quickly. Soon, Edana and Shana were shouldering their packs and arming themselves with slings and pouched of stones. Edana was double checking the weaponry that hung from her belt when Shana nudged her shoulder and nodded towards Elowyn, who was absently scratching Mar's chin with one hand while she tightened the cinch of his saddle with the other. Edana and Shana shared a look before Edana sighed and went to speak with their friend.
“We're nearly ready,” Elowyn said without looking up from the task at hand.
“I can see that,” Edana said with a soft smile, “but there's something I need to talk with you about.”
Elowyn's hands stilled and she looked over her shoulder. Caught in that gaze, Edana's words caught in her throat. She rubbed the back of her neck and mentally sent a prayer to her ancestors to lend her strength for the discussion she had ahead of her.
“El, I know you want to come with us and that's fine,” she said, “but dragons can't easily follow us on this part of the Excursion. Do you understand?”
Elowyn's brow furrowed and she shook her head.
“The dragons can't come with us into the forest. They have to wait for us here,” Edana explained, “and that means Mar, too, if you come with us.”
Elowyn slowly turned so she faced Edana. “What do you mean if I come with you? I already told you I'm going.”
“Yes, but that was before you knew Mar couldn't come,” Edana snapped. She glanced back at Shana for some support, but the other Rider had conveniently wandered out of sight—hiding behind Nightshade, no doubt. She frowned and turned back to Elowyn. “Look, El, this isn't the time to pretend to be naïve. We all know how you get when you're, well, when you're—”
Blue eyes flashed gold as Elowyn snarled, “When I'm what, Edie?”
Edana stepped backwards out of reflex and nearly stumbled in the process. Gold faded back to blue and the scowl on Elowyn's lips morphed into a grim line. She turned her back on Edana and resumed fiddling with Mar's saddle, although from what Edana could see, she was neither tightening nor loosening the cinch. Long seconds passed before Edana reached up and placed her hand on Elowyn's back. Tense muscles relaxed under her fingertips.
“I'm sorry,” Elowyn whispered.
“I know,” Edana replied. “And I know you don't want to be apart from Shana and me, but you have to think of the consequences. We could be in the forest for days. Is being with us worth the price you'll pay for being separated from Mar?”
Elowyn studied her hands, as if they held the answer she needed. Time dragged by until she finally looked at Edana again. “I won't sit here while the two of you are fumbling your way through the forest,” she said. “Mar will just have to find a way to survive without me for a few days.”
The words wavered on Elowyn's tongue, but Edana smiled and slipped her hand down to Elowyn's to give it a gentle squeeze.
After their conversation, Elowyn went to work removing Mar's saddle again and Edana went in search of Shana. As she suspected, the other woman had hidden herself behind Nightshade.
“You know this is going to make our Excursion that much harder, don't you?” Shana asked as she absently studied her fingernails.
“If you're going to criticize my decision, then the least you could have done was make yourself present for the conversation. But you didn't, so now you have no say in whether she comes or stays.”
“She wouldn't have liked what I had to say.”
“And you think she liked it better when I said it?”
Shana shrugged. “You two have always been closer. I assumed she would take the words better from you than from me, but I guess that backfired. Now we're stuck watching out for her, too.”
“Don't do that,” Edana said, and Shana looked up from her nails. “Don't act like we exclude you. And don't pretend like you wouldn't have worried about Elowyn even if we had left her here.”
“That isn't what matters, Edana,” Shana said. Her dragon stirred when she stepped towards Edana until they were nearly nose to nose. “I know you like to pretend otherwise, but she is driskani. She is a risk.”
“She is our friend!”
Silence hung between them, and the weight their ancestors had so graciously lifted the day before had been replaced with a new one. Both women glared at each other, each daring the other to back down.
“She's coming,” Edana said. Shana looked as if she were about to protest, but Edana turned on her heel and called over her shoulder, “The decision's been made, Shana. Make your peace with it so we can get a move on. We've wasted enough time already.”
She shouldered her way past Shana and crossed the campsite to say her goodbyes to Aerys.
Title: Rites of Passage
Summary: Edana and Shana, two of the most promising warriors of their clan, are finally going to complete their Excursion so they can be considered full-fledged warriors. But they can only succeed if they don’t kill each other first. Luckily, Elowyn has come along for the ride, even if she isn’t technically supposed to be there. Rules were meant to be broken, right?
Author’s Note: The first draft of one of my first chapters for the Dragon Riders. This is only the first part of the chapter, but it got long so the second part can be found here. The Excursion itself will most likely take up two chapters, and the second chapter will be posted at a later date.
Dark skies loomed over the forest, the slate clouds crawling over blue, devouring their way across the sky from the mountain range miles away. In the midst of the grey, two figures raced across the sky, one pulling ahead with the passing of each second.
Wind and rain whipped against Edana's face as she leaned into Aerys's rough neck, urging the dragon to fly faster. A tail's length behind them was Shana's purple behemoth Nightshade. The fierce expression on the rider's face made it clear that Edana couldn't relax just yet. She squeezed her knees against Aerys's neck and the leathery wings folded inward. They became a spear slicing through the wind, leaving Shana and Nightshade in their wake. When they darted past the finish marker—the top of a redwood tree that towered above the pines—Aerys's wings unfurled and billowed in the wind. They jerked to a stop and Edana whooped in celebration and punched the air. The beast beneath her released a triumphant roar, too, as they circled the top of the tree.
The scowl on Shana's face when she and Nightshade approached only brightened Edana's mood. When they reached the tree, Edana and Aerys flew circles around them in the rain. Rider and dragon alike sported a cocky grin.
“You call that flying? It felt like I was racing a kid who just got their wings,” Edana said as she hovered alongside the other rider. A deep rumble rolled from Aerys's throat—a laugh that made Nightshade snap his teeth in Aerys's face.
Shana rolled her eyes. “You weren't that far ahead of me,” she said. “You know, nobody likes a poor winner.”
“Actually, nobody likes a sore loser. You should really work on that.” Edana leaned back in her saddle and rested her back against Aerys's body. She took comfort in the way the dragon's spine felt against hers as she stared up at the grey sky. A warm feeling spread through her chest, letting her know Aerys felt the same. She closed her eyes and allowed herself a moment to see through the dragon's eyes as they glided along the air currents. The way Aerys saw the world—each color sharper, everything so much more alive—always put into perspective how much she actually missed with her own eyes. Even from this height, she could see the animals moving along the forest floor.
“I hope you don't plan on flying like that during our trials,” Shana said.
Edana opened one eye to look at Shana then slowly closed it again. “Maybe if I do, you'll actually have a chance of doing better than me.”
She could practically feel Shana bristling at the comment, but before the other woman could retort, a loud yell pierced the air above them. Edana sat up in the saddle and both riders looked up, only to see a figure spiraling through the air, descending from the blue dragon beating its wings high above them in the dark clouds. Edana held her gloved hand over her eyes to block out the rain so she could see better, but seconds later, the body had twirled between the two dragons. Laughter followed, and Edana caught Shana's panicked gaze.
They knew that laugh.
“Elowyn,” they called after the spiraling rider. Both were about to urge their dragons after her when she opened her arms.
Wings of leather spread from her wrists down to her hips and caught the wind. A moment later, she looped upwards, laughing all the while. After she completed the loop, she brought one arm back to her side so the wind only caught one wing, which had her circling the air until her lithe dragon—Mar—came down to collect her. The scales were slick with rain and she quickly found herself slipping over Mar's side. She smoothly caught one of Mar's massive claws on her way down and dangled from it, her face red from the cold and exhilaration. While she pulled herself up and clambered onto Mar's back, Edana and Shana raced down to meet her with their hearts in their throats. Thunder rumbled in the dark clouds above them. When they reached Elowyn, the three dragons greeted one another butting horns and nipping at scales while Edana and Shana worried over Elowyn.
“Stop fussing. I'm fine,” she said with a bright grin. “You both worry too much.”
A flash of lightning followed her words, and thunder rolled behind it. All three riders glanced at the dark clouds that had gathered above them then shared a look. Wordlessly, they urged their mounts forward, racing the storm to the edge of the forest. But even their dragons could not win against nature. Before they could reach the open plains, all three were soaked by a downpour and shivering in the blustery wind. None of them could see through the thick curtain of rain. One by one, they slipped into their dragons' minds and let them be their eyes.
“Over there!” Edana shouted over the rain. She pointed towards a clearing in the trees she and Aerys had spotted. She only hoped it would be big enough for all three of their dragons. With no time to spare, all three flew towards the clearing. The flight was a battle against the wind and rain. Each gust pushed them further and further from their goal and while their dragons were strong, they were still young. They had yet to learn how to fly against the gales of wind without tiring themselves out. By the time they reached the clearing, all three beasts were exhausted and the landing was far from graceful.
Edana leaped off of Aerys's back moments before he crashed into a copse of skinny trees. She hit the ground with a loud 'oomph' as her legs buckled beneath her and sent her tumbling.
Fat droplets of rain pelted her face as she tried to regain the breath that had been knocked out of her. Slowly, she sat up and groaned. Her hands burned from her grip on the reins as she tried not to get dragged out of the saddle by the wind. Every other inch of her ached from the rough landing. Across from her, Shana and Elowyn appeared to be in the same dazed state. Assured that they were mostly safe, Edana closed her eyes and laid back down on the grass to rest in the pouring rain.
It wasn't her smoothest landing, but at least now she knew all three dragons fit in the clearing.
The rain stopped pelting her face and her brow furrowed. Edana opened her eyes and found burning red ones staring down at her. Aerys loomed above, head cocked to the side. A question entered Edana's mind, probing to see if she was okay. She slowly reached her hand up and Aerys's rough snout met her palm.
“I'm alright,” she cooed, but she made no attempt to move again. The dragon snorted in disbelief, but still ran a rough tongue over Edana's hand in response. She could feel Aerys's worry over her like it was a pit in her own stomach. To put Aerys at ease, she sat up once more, wincing at the sharp pain in her side. She had hit the ground much harder than she thought. Still, she looked up at her friend and smiled through gritted teeth.
“Told you I was fine,” she said.
Aerys huffed again but dropped the subject when Nightshade and Mar joined them at the edge of the clearing. They each helped their own rider over. Shana leaned heavily against Nightshade's leg as she limped along and Mar carried Elowyn by the back of her tunic. Shana gingerly sat down beside Edana while Mar gently placed Elowyn in between the other two riders. Immediately, the three of them huddled closer together for comfort and warmth. Once the three women were settled, the dragons formed a circle around them and lay down. They spread their wings and formed a makeshift roof over their charges. The rain sounded hollow as it thwacked against the wings. Slowly, their bodies started to radiate enough heat to dry off the riders and their clothes.
“Well, if today is anything to go by, I think we can count on this Excursion being a disaster,” Shana said as she wrung the water out of her hair. Beside her, Elowyn shook out her long locks and water droplets flew into Shana's face. She narrowed her eyes at Elowyn, who smiled sheepishly and shrugged. Shana scowled. “As I said: an absolute disaster.”
“Calm down, Miss Priss. Excursions aren't supposed to be easy,” Edana said before she turned her attention to Elowyn. “What are you even doing here, El? Weren't you supposed to start your lessons with the Dancers today?”
Elowyn nodded, but didn't bother to elaborate until she noticed Edana and Shana's expectant stares.
“Oh. I thought this would be more fun,” she said. “Besides, I still got my first lesson done.” She lifted her arms and showed the webbed leather that ran from her wrists to her hips. A long tear split the middle of it.
Shana's brow furrowed. “They gave you a glider suit already?”
“Not exactly...”
“You stole it?!”
Elowyn winced and said, “I was going to give it back.” She ran her finger along the tear in the fabric and looked at Edana. “Do you think they'll be mad?”
Edana sighed and shook her head. “I'll talk to my father about it,” she said, “but you need to go back once the storm passes.”
“But I just got here.”
“You're not even supposed to be here,” Edana said. Elowyn flinched at the sharpness of her voice.
“Elowyn, this is our rite of passage. Not yours,” Shana said in a softer voice. She placed her hand on Elowyn's shoulder and waited for her to look over. When bright blue eyes met hers, she said, “It isn't fair to the other riders if we have you helping us.”
“Then I won't help you. I'll just watch.”
Edana raised an eyebrow. “Seriously? You think you'd be able to stand by and watch if we were in danger?” Elowyn ducked her head and stared down at the wet grass. “Our ancestors would have to rise from the graves themselves to stop us from interfering if you were in trouble, El, and I know you feel the same for us. And there's nothing wrong with that,” Edana said with a soft smile. It was much more pleasant than the sharp tone she had used moments earlier.
“But that's exactly why you can't be here,” Shana continued. “Trust me. When you have to go through your rite of passage with the Dancers, we'll be in the same predicament.”
Elowyn jerked away from Shana's touch. “No you won't,” she said in a low voice. A deep growl rumbled from Mar's throat beside the three of them as Elowyn got to her feet. She stumbled slightly, still dizzy from the crash. “You'll have each other while I'm gone. All I have is Mar.” The dragon huffed in response. “Sorry,” she said over her shoulder before turning back to Edana and Shana. She crossed her arms over her chest and said, “I can make up the Dancer lessons when we return, but I couldn't get the two of you back if something happened out here.” Her expression softened and she looked back down at the ground. Mar's low growl slowly subsided as Elowyn's mood shifted. “And I'm not stupid. I know Excursions are dangerous, so don't try to promise that nothing will happen.”
“We won't,” Edana said from her spot on the ground. “Sit down?” Her voice was soft as she patted the ground between her and Shana. Elowyn bit her lip before taking the offered seat. She leaned against Edana and linked their hands together. Shana followed suit, resting her head on Elowyn's shoulder and wrapping her arm around her waist.
Edana didn't know what they would do after the storm passed, but she knew sending Elowyn back home would be a mistake. She always seemed so fearless, jumping from cliffs and from dragons alike, that Edana often forgot the fear of separation that constantly lurked in the back of Elowyn's mind. It was hard to imagine her afraid of anything.
“We'll figure it out,” Edana said, squeezing the hand clasped in her own.
“We always do,” Shana added.
And so the duo became a trio once more beneath the wings of their dragons.
They would deal with the consequences of their decision when they returned home, but for now, they would stick together.
The three women huddled closer together as they waited out the storm. The wind howled above them outside and thunder crashed, shaking the ground beneath them. Edana shuddered at the sound. As powerful as Aerys was, they wouldn't have survived in the skies.
They had been lucky.
Her gaze wandered to Elowyn, who was busying herself with Shana's horns. Slender fingers tenderly traced the swirls winding their way up the horns. Shana's eyes closed at the delicate touch and she breathed a content sigh when Elowyn's fingers wandered back down to the base of the horns, where bone met flesh. Edana smiled at the scene unfolding before her. If Elowyn hadn't caught up to them, she would still be caught in the storm—alone—and they wouldn't have known until it was too late. Overwhelmed by that thought, Edana wrapped her arms around Elowyn and trapped her in a tight hug. She breathed in her scent and reveled in her warmth. She shouldn't have followed them, but she was there. She was safe.
Elowyn said nothing at the touch. Rather, she paused in her ministrations to Shana so she could lean into the embrace. One hand dropped from Shana's horn to rest on Edana's knee. The touch reassured her more than any words could.
Her worries soothed, Edana took one more deep breath of Elowyn's scent before she pulled away and stood up. She gingerly limped to the saddle at the base of Aerys's neck. Droplets of rain leaked off her dragon's black scales onto her hands as she dug through the bags attached to the saddle. She heard a low grumbling in her ear before she felt Aerys's warm snout against her cheek.
It seemed she wasn't the only one who needed reassurance.
She rubbed her hand along the smooth scales between Aerys's nostrils and allowed the nuzzling to continue. Then a forked tongue flicked against her cheek and, grimacing, she pushed Aerys away. The dragon seemed to pout at the rebuke, but Edana only rolled her eyes and continued her search through the bags. She scrounged through the packs until she found the food buried at the bottom of one. She pulled out a small pack of jerky and a block of cheese wrapped in cloth. She tossed the latter to Shana, who fumbled it. She glared at Edana as she picked it up off the grass and unwrapped it. Meanwhile, Edana reclaimed her spot beside Elowyn and split the jerky with her.
Elowyn tore into the dried meat with vigor, her eyes alight with something primal as she devoured the strip. Edana chewed on her own, lost in thoughts of what was to come in their Excursion, and how she was supposed to explain Elowyn's presence when they returned. Her father wouldn't be pleased—not with Elowyn and certainly not with her. Excursions were meant to test teamwork between two fighters. She could only imagine the flak she was going to catch the clan found out Elowyn had come with them.
She jumped when something hit her square in the chest. She looked down and found the half-eaten block of cheese in her lap.
“Can't have the chief's daughter starving to death,” Shana said. “Not before we get back safely at least.”
“Your concern is killing me,” Edana said. The cheese crumbled in her hand and she popped a piece into her mouth. Relishing in the sharp taste on her tongue, she looked up at the wings sheltering them. “Looks like the rain is dying down,” she said absently. “I say we take our chances and head out soon.”
Shana arched an eyebrow. “And when do you suggest we take care of your side? After our next crash landing?”
“What?”
“I saw you earlier, after we landed. I know it's bothering you.”
Elowyn stopped chewing on the jerky and glanced down at Edana's side. She gently lifted the hem of Edana's dark tunic and winced at the sight that greeted her. Edana's skin—usually as dark as her dragon's scales—was marred by an inflamed, red scrape. Purple and blue bruises painted the abrasion's edges and Edana hissed when Elowyn gingerly ran her fingers along the injury.
Edana jerked away from the probing fingers. “Well don't touch it and it won't hurt,” she said as she adjusted her tunic.
Elowyn pouted, but Shana was already on her feet and digging through her own saddlebags on Nightshade. She returned with her hands full, a bowl and a bundle of cloth in one hand, a waterskin in the other. Wordlessly, she laid the contents in a row on the grass.
“I said I was fine.”
Shana's gaze remained fixated on the bowl as she poured water into it. “And your body disagrees,” she said. When the bowl was half-full, she looked up and held Edana's gaze. “The stronger you pretend to be now, the weaker you'll be later.”
She corked the waterskin and placed it back on the grass. Nighshade's neck stretched until the dragon's massive head hovered over Shana's shoulder. She closed her eyes for a moment. After she opened them again, she placed the bowl on the grass and waited. Nightshade's head lowered to the ground and, carefully, the dragon released a small stream of fire from between razor teeth to boil the mixture. Once it was done, Nightshade pulled away so Shana could dunk the cloth in the water.
Reluctantly, Edana held up the hem of her tunic once more and allowed Shana to clean the abrasion on her side. The cloth was hot against her skin and she hissed at the touch. Her discomfort prompted Elowyn to scoot behind her and wrap long limbs around her. She placed soft kisses against Edana's neck to distract her from Shana's ministrations.
“You shouldn't have hidden this from us, you know,” Shana said. Her tongue poked out as she dabbed at the wound.
Edana scoffed. “It's just a scrape. We've both had worse.”
“It is more than just a scrape, Edana,” Shana snapped. Her hand shook and she quickly balled it into a fist around the cloth. “It's coated in dirt and grime and who knows what else. If you let it fester, you get sick. You get sick, we both die when we try to drive out the qualtri. All because of a little scrape.” Shana returned her gaze to the wound and continued cleaning dirt and blood from the wound. “You act like nothing has the power to hurt you and it's going to get us all killed out here.”
“And you act like I have a choice,” Edana said. “First and foremost, I am the chief's daughter. I don't have the luxury of showing weakness.”
“Well out here you're just another Rider. You're no better than the rest of us.”
“I never said I was!”
“Not with words,” Shana said.
Edana scowled. “You have a lot of nerve acting like I'm the one who thinks she's better than everyone else when you're the one waving your wealth around like a weapon,” she said. “Tell me, do you plan to throw that fancy saddle of yours at the qualtri when we find them, or are you going to test your luck with a bribe?”
“Enough!” The loud, deep rumble of Elowyn's voice startled both Riders out of their argument. “Both of you are acting like hatchlings over something silly,” she said. “Besides, it isn't like she's the only one who hides when she's hurting. You need to swallow your own pride before you can lecture Edana about hers.” Shana's pale cheeks turned a bright red and she averted her gaze. Elowyn squeezed Edana a little tighter against her chest and nuzzled her neck again. “And you don't have to be strong all the time. Not with us.”
Silence fell on the three women, punctuated only by their dragons' breaths and the rain drizzling against the wings above them.
Once the wound had been dressed and Shana had put the supplies away, Edana disentangled herself from Elowyn's long limbs and stood. She was pleased to find that the pain that had plagued her side earlier had lessened to a dull throb.
“Acceptable work, I suppose,” she said as she inspected the stark white bandage against her skin, “but I could have done without the lecture.”
“You and me both,” Shana said. She glanced over her shoulder and looked past Edana to glare at Elowyn, who was occupying herself by scratching under Mar's chin and speaking in hushed tones. If dragon's purred, Mar would have. As it was, the dragon's tongue darted in and out in pleasure, eyes half-closed. Shana huffed and shook her head before she returned her attention to the saddle. “How can she say I'm the one acting like a hatchling when she's... she's...”
Edana's eyebrow arched. “A driskani?”
“Exactly! She calls me—me—a hatchling when she's more dragon than human most of the time,” Shana said.
“You're the one with horns here,” Edana said, which earned her a glare. “Look, driskani or not, Elowyn had a point. We were acting like children,” she said. She rubbed the back of her head and said, “You had a point, too. I shouldn't have tried to hide what happened to my side. It was irresponsible.”
“Yes, well...” Shana cleared her throat. “I'm glad you're letting me take care of it,” she said. “I mean, I'd hate to fail our Excursion because of something as small as a scrape.”
Edana's brow furrowed. “Careful. For a moment there, it was starting to sound like you cared about me.”
“Edana—” But Edana only winked and quickly crossed the small circle to Aerys.
Once all three Riders were securely in their saddles, reins in hand, the dragons broke the protective circle. The rain fell in a drizzle and a thick mist filled the spaces between the trees surrounding them. The sky was still grey, but the darkest of the clouds had passed over them and the skies were safe to travel once more. However, the limited space made leaving the clearing more difficult than landing in it.
Elowyn and Mar took to the skies first, the dragon's small size perfect for leaving the cramped area. When Shana and Nightshade tried to do the same, Aerys was smacked by Nightshade's wings and both Rider and dragon huffed. Once Shana and Nightshade were in the air, Edana and Aerys followed suit, taking out a tree in the process when Aerys's long tail collided with it on the way up. Not their most graceful takeoff, but at least they were airborne again.
The travelers flew until the thick forest they had crashed in thinned into a yellow meadow dotted with patches of red and blue wildflowers. In the distance, thick smoke billowed from the top of a volcano. It would be a full day of flying to reach it, but the Riders had other matters to attend to before they could head for the qualtri den at the base of the volcano.
