The Journey, Book 2; Chapter 16 - Previous Chapter
Chapter 17; Flight
Vivi walks into the center of the plateau carrying a massive leather saddle, its surface worn but lovingly oiled, the brass buckles gleaming in the morning sun. Beside him, Tarasque strides with quiet purpose, one hand resting on the hilt of her blade, the other steadying the saddle’s weight. The air atop the Termini Cliffs is thin and sharp, the wind curling around them in playful spirals as it sweeps across the vast, sun-bleached stone.
The plateau, had become the home of Elqiana, the great opal-white dragon whose scales shimmered like moonlight on still water. She waited now at the edge of the cliffs, wings half-unfurled, eyes glowing with ancient intelligence and a barely contained thrill. Today was the day. After seasons of trust-building, silent communion, and skyward dreams, Tarasque would climb into the saddle, and Elqiana would carry her first rider into the skies.
Vivi set the saddle down with a grunt, wiping sweat from his brow, but smiling. Elqiana lowered her head, a soft rumble rising in her throat, not a warning, but an invitation. The wind stilled, as if the world itself were holding its breath.
Above them, the sky was wide and open, and Elqiana was ready.
She was excited.
Very, very excited.
With Elqiana’s slow, deliberate nod, Vivi stepped forward and began the careful process of fitting the saddle. The leather was thick, dragon-hide reinforced, custom-shaped to the curves of her long spine and broad shoulders. She shifted her stance, rising slightly onto her hind legs to give him better access, and Vivi moved with practiced efficiency, ducking beneath her to fasten the main buckle under her chest.
The sound of leather pulling taut, the clink of buckles locking into place, it was all familiar music to Vivi, though never before played on a creature so massive, so sacred. Elqiana hummed low in her throat, a sound like distant thunder, patient and alert.
Tarasque stood nearby, eyes narrowed, arms crossed, studying every motion. She wasn’t just watching, she was memorizing, tracing each strap and knot in her mind. Today she would ride, but soon she would saddle her dragon alone.
Vivi stepped back and patted the side of the saddle. "Now," he said, turning to Tarasque, "the leg harnesses. These—" he unbuckled one and let it fall, "—are what’ll keep you in the saddle when she’s diving, spinning, or if gods forbid, taking hits."
He lifted the harness and showed her how to thread her legs through, then how to tighten the loops just below the thigh. “Tight enough to hold you in, but loose enough not to cut off your blood. You feel it when it’s right. You’ll know.”
Tarasque took the harness in her hands, flexed it, adjusted the straps. “And if we fall?”
“You won’t,” Vivi said simply. “But if you do—” he pointed to a small silver ring on the side of the saddle “—you pull that, and the whole thing releases. But only if you’re clear of the wings. Otherwise... well, better to ride it down.”
Elqiana gave a soft snort behind him. Not displeased—amused.
Tarasque smirked faintly. “We’re not going to fall.”
“No,” Vivi agreed. “You’re not. You’ve trained for this. She’s waited for this. And the sky—” he turned to look at the horizon, where the clouds opened like gates, “—the sky’s waited too.”
Elqiana crouched low, wings twitching.
It was time.
Tarasque approached with slow, measured steps, one hand brushing along Elqiana’s side as she walked beside the dragon’s flank. Elqiana remained perfectly still, tense, but in that focused, anticipatory way creatures get when they know something important is about to begin. Her wings trembled once, folding tighter against her back.
Tarasque placed her boot in the stirrup and, with a deep breath, pulled herself upward.
She climbed deliberately, using the small leather footholds sewn into the saddle’s side, careful not to tug or shift her weight too quickly. Elqiana shifted ever so slightly beneath her, adjusting to the presence, helping without words.
At last, Tarasque settled into the saddle. She sat for a long moment, hands gripping the front curve of the pommel, her spine straight but her shoulders tight. She shifted once, twice, testing the seat, leaning left then right. The saddle creaked faintly, but held true. Elqiana gave a soft, approving exhale through her nostrils.
"Good fit," Tarasque murmured, more to herself than anyone else.
Vivi stood at her side now, nodding. “All right. Harnesses next.”
Tarasque bent forward and began threading her legs through the straps, just as he had shown her earlier. Her fingers worked steadily, if a little clumsily, buckling the leather, adjusting the tension. It took a few tries before everything sat right, but she double-checked her work before leaning back with a short breath.
Vivi walked around her once, giving each buckle a tug. “Not bad,” he said, then stepped back with a satisfied grunt. “Not bad at all.”
Tarasque glanced down at him, waiting.
Vivi’s expression softened. “Trust is important,” he said. “If you trust in Elqiana, she will keep you safe. In the saddle, and in the skies. She’s your wings now. You’re hers.”
Elqiana rumbled beneath her, the sound vibrating through the saddle and up Tarasque’s spine like a low, steady heartbeat.
“I do,” Tarasque said quietly, placing a hand against the base of Elqiana’s neck. “I trust her.”
The dragon’s tail gave a flick, wings rising.
The sky waited.
And Elqiana was ready.
With a shudder of anticipation and a final pulse of energy rippling through her limbs, Elqiana crouched low.
Tarasque barely had time to brace herself.
Then, with a deafening thud of talons pushing off stone, Elqiana launched forward.
Her powerful legs thundered across the plateau in long, bounding strides, the saddle creaking under Tarasque’s grip as wind rushed past her ears. The edge came fast, too fast, and then it was gone.
They were airborne.
The world dropped away beneath them.
For one heart-stopping moment, they were falling. The wind screamed past, and Tarasque did too, eyes clenched shut, body locked in place by the harnesses as gravity took hold.
And then—
Whumph.
Elqiana’s vast, translucent wings flared open.
Sunlight hit them like crystal glass catching fire, shimmering with pearlescent hues, and in one smooth, impossible motion, she pulled them up, up into a graceful, powerful climb. The force pressed Tarasque back into the saddle, her scream cutting off into a sharp gasp.
In the sudden quiet of the high sky, a voice slid gently into her mind, warm, resonant, and amused.
'It’s okay, little red head,' Elqiana said, her mental tone like a purr made of clouds. 'Open your eyes and see the world as I do.'
Tarasque’s breath hitched. Slowly, hesitantly, she opened her eyes.
The world stretched below them. The ocean sparkled far beneath, the cliffs now tiny, the forests a carpet of green. Clouds drifted beside them like drifting islands of mist. The wind carried a wild song through Elqiana’s wings, and for the first time, Tarasque heard it.
Truly heard it.
Freedom, and unity.
She blinked back tears, gripping the saddle a little less tightly, letting her body move with Elqiana’s rhythm instead of against it.
“I see it,” she whispered aloud.
And Elqiana, circling ever higher, roared with joy.
Vivi stood alone on the wind-scoured plateau, the cliffs behind him dropped steeply into the vast blue horizon, but his eyes were fixed on the sky.
He smiled.
Not a small smile, not the polite kind, but a broad, open, genuine grin, the kind that broke past years of restraint and quiet memory. His eyes shimmered just slightly, though the wind would take the blame for that if anyone asked.
It had been a long, long time since he’d seen it.
A rider in the sky with their dragon.
Elqiana soared like a silvered star through the heavens, her wings catching the sun and refracting it in wild, dancing colours. And strapped firmly to her back, Tarasque clung to the saddle with all her strength, her body low, her hands wrapped tightly around the pommel as Elqiana banked wide in a rising arc.
Then came the barrel roll.
Vivi's breath caught, his sharp elven eyes tracking every motion, the exact tilt of Elqiana’s wings, the torque in her spine, the way Tarasque stiffened, braced. For a heartbeat, she looked terrified, muscles locked against the surge of momentum.
But then something changed.
As the roll completed and Elqiana leveled out with a triumphant cry, Tarasque let out a sound of her own, a shout, wild and unrestrained, part scream, part laugh. She raised one hand skyward and then pounded her fist to her chest, exhilarated.
Elqiana dipped again, then spiraled upward into a second barrel roll, faster this time.
And this time, Tarasque didn't hold the pommel like it was life or death. She leaned into the motion, and this time, she cheered first.
Vivi laughed softly under his breath. "That’s it," he murmured. “That’s what it’s supposed to be.”
Wind tugged at his cloak, and somewhere far above, dragonfire glittered in the sky like a comet trail of joy.
Vivi turned and sat at the edge of the cliff, legs dangling, eyes still skybound.
It had been a long time since he’d seen a rider fly.
But now, he believed he’d see many more.
The wind roared past them as Elqiana cut through a bank of clouds, her wings skimming the mist like a dancer’s veil. Below them, the sea glinted and frothed. Above, the sky was endless. Tarasque's laughter still echoed in the open air when Elqiana’s voice drifted gently into her mind again, curious, teasing, but with a quiet, meaningful edge.
‘You’re enjoying yourself.’
Tarasque grinned against the rush of wind. ‘More than anything.’
A pause. Then:
‘Would you like to see it the way I do?’
Tarasque blinked, caught off guard. ‘You mean… through your eyes?’
‘Not just sight. Feel. Know. For a moment, let me show you what it’s like to be me.’
There was no hesitation.
‘Yes,’ Tarasque said, her voice bright with wonder. ‘Yes. Please.’
Elqiana's presence swelled in her mind, warm and vast like a tide rising. It wasn’t overwhelming, no, it was like a second heartbeat aligning with her own. Then, slowly, gently, Elqiana reached through her, and something shifted.
Tarasque gasped.
Her eyes—no, her perception—changed.
Colours exploded around her, hues she had no words for. The sky was no longer blue, but a vast spectrum of shimmering gradients. The world below wasn’t just green and stone, but pulsing with heat, with life, outlined in threads of energy. Blues bled into fiery reds, veins of orange shimmered across the landscape. Heat signatures flickered like stardust in the forests far below. White halos crowned distant peaks where magic flowed strong and ancient.
She turned her gaze toward a distant storm brewing at the sea’s edge, and saw it not as a danger, but as a slow, living creature, full of static tension and silent movement.
She felt the air shift on her scales, her scales, and the wind didn’t buffet her; it sang to her. She could sense every muscle in her wings, the ripple of air along her tail, the instinctual awareness of gravity and lift and direction.
She felt free in a way she’d never known possible.
‘This,’ Elqiana said softly, sharing the sky, ‘is my world.’
Tarasque could only whisper one word in return, choked with emotion.
‘Beautiful.’
Tarasque turned in the saddle, glancing back toward the plateau through Elqiana’s radiant, layered sight. She spotted Vivi seated at the edge, his cloak still fluttering in the breeze, his heat signature glowing like a familiar beacon of calm.
Grinning, she raised her arm and waved.
Far below, Vivi lifted his hand in return, but the motion halted mid-wave as he caught something in the corner of his eye. He turned sharply, rising to his feet.
A figure was approaching from the far side of the plateau. Quiet. Measured.
It was a woman, her gaze fixed upward, not on Vivi, not on the horizon, but on the sky itself.
On Tarasque.
She stood motionless, her expression unreadable, her posture proud but trembling with emotion just beneath the surface.
Vivi recognized her instantly.
“Don’t worry,” he said gently, stepping closer. “She’s perfectly safe. Elqiana wouldn’t let her fall. Not now. Not ever.”
Tarasque, still watching from above, felt a wave of emotion ripple through her as the dragon’s vision wavered, colours shifting, blurring. Elqiana’s presence gently withdrew, receding like the tide, warm and reassuring even as it faded from her senses.
‘The rest is yours now,’ Elqiana murmured, her voice soft as feathers in the wind.
Tarasque blinked. Her own eyes again. The sky was blue and bright, and her mother’s face, though distant, was unmistakable.
Her breath hitched.
‘Elqiana,’ she whispered, ‘take us down.’
The dragon let out a slow, contented rumble in reply and banked gracefully, wings tilting as she began a wide, circling descent. Wind curled around them as they spiraled lower, the cliff drawing closer with each gentle pass.
Below, Vivi stepped back, giving space.
Tarasque’s mother stood at the edge of the world, hands clasped, her eyes locked on the sky, tears shimmering, but not yet falling.
As Elqiana’s claws touched down on the plateau with a gentle thump, the wind stirred the dust around them in slow spirals. Her wings folded in with the grace of silk drawn tight, and she lowered herself slightly, allowing Tarasque to unbuckle the harnesses and dismount.
Tarasque slid down with practiced care, her boots finding the solid stone again, but the ground felt strange, almost distant, as if part of her still floated somewhere in the sky. She turned just in time to see her mother approaching.
Her mother’s face was glowing, eyes wide with emotion, a hand pressed to her chest. And then she smiled. A radiant, real smile that Tarasque hadn’t seen in years. It broke something open in her chest.
“It was quite nerve-wracking,” her mother said, her voice warm with pride and love, “seeing you so high up, daughter. But you looked... magnificent.”
Tarasque swallowed the lump rising in her throat, unable to speak just yet.
Her mother turned then to Elqiana, who loomed behind Tarasque like a living sculpture of moonlight and ancient power.
“Thank you,” her mother said, voice clear and steady. “Thank you for keeping her safe. I trust you. And I believe you always will.”
Elqiana lowered her head, nostrils flaring softly. A low, gentle rumble welled up from deep in her chest, not threatening, not boastful. Just… promise. A wordless vow, forged in air and soul.
Vivi stepped beside them, quiet and watchful, a small, knowing smile on his face.
Tarasque exhaled and looked between them. “It was… like nothing I’ve ever experienced,” she said at last, her voice still touched by awe. “When she let me see through her eyes, it wasn’t just sight. It was everything. I saw heat and energy and life itself moving through the world. I could feel the wind on her wings as if they were my own.”
She paused, eyes distant for a heartbeat. “The sky wasn’t blue, it was layers of light. I saw things that don’t even have names. Magic, breath, truth, like the world wasn’t hiding anything anymore.”
Her mother’s eyes shimmered. Vivi looked away for a moment, blinking hard.
“It felt like… belonging,” Tarasque finished. “Like I’ve always had wings. I just didn’t know it until now.”
Elqiana snorted softly behind her, amused and proud.
And as the wind danced once more over the plateau, mother, daughter, dragon, and Vivi stood together.
Meera the swallow burst from the sky like a feathered dart, wings beating furiously as she swooped down and landed on Vivi’s shoulder, chest heaving with exhaustion. She chirped urgently into his ear, rapid and high-pitched. Vivi blinked, brow furrowing as he tried to follow, then suddenly froze. His eyes widened, jaw dropping. “Neko found an orange dragon egg inside the mountains?” he said louder than he intended, his voice cracking with disbelief, drawing everyone's attention.
Chapter 17; Flight
Vivi walks into the center of the plateau carrying a massive leather saddle, its surface worn but lovingly oiled, the brass buckles gleaming in the morning sun. Beside him, Tarasque strides with quiet purpose, one hand resting on the hilt of her blade, the other steadying the saddle’s weight. The air atop the Termini Cliffs is thin and sharp, the wind curling around them in playful spirals as it sweeps across the vast, sun-bleached stone.
The plateau, had become the home of Elqiana, the great opal-white dragon whose scales shimmered like moonlight on still water. She waited now at the edge of the cliffs, wings half-unfurled, eyes glowing with ancient intelligence and a barely contained thrill. Today was the day. After seasons of trust-building, silent communion, and skyward dreams, Tarasque would climb into the saddle, and Elqiana would carry her first rider into the skies.
Vivi set the saddle down with a grunt, wiping sweat from his brow, but smiling. Elqiana lowered her head, a soft rumble rising in her throat, not a warning, but an invitation. The wind stilled, as if the world itself were holding its breath.
Above them, the sky was wide and open, and Elqiana was ready.
She was excited.
Very, very excited.
With Elqiana’s slow, deliberate nod, Vivi stepped forward and began the careful process of fitting the saddle. The leather was thick, dragon-hide reinforced, custom-shaped to the curves of her long spine and broad shoulders. She shifted her stance, rising slightly onto her hind legs to give him better access, and Vivi moved with practiced efficiency, ducking beneath her to fasten the main buckle under her chest.
The sound of leather pulling taut, the clink of buckles locking into place, it was all familiar music to Vivi, though never before played on a creature so massive, so sacred. Elqiana hummed low in her throat, a sound like distant thunder, patient and alert.
Tarasque stood nearby, eyes narrowed, arms crossed, studying every motion. She wasn’t just watching, she was memorizing, tracing each strap and knot in her mind. Today she would ride, but soon she would saddle her dragon alone.
Vivi stepped back and patted the side of the saddle. "Now," he said, turning to Tarasque, "the leg harnesses. These—" he unbuckled one and let it fall, "—are what’ll keep you in the saddle when she’s diving, spinning, or if gods forbid, taking hits."
He lifted the harness and showed her how to thread her legs through, then how to tighten the loops just below the thigh. “Tight enough to hold you in, but loose enough not to cut off your blood. You feel it when it’s right. You’ll know.”
Tarasque took the harness in her hands, flexed it, adjusted the straps. “And if we fall?”
“You won’t,” Vivi said simply. “But if you do—” he pointed to a small silver ring on the side of the saddle “—you pull that, and the whole thing releases. But only if you’re clear of the wings. Otherwise... well, better to ride it down.”
Elqiana gave a soft snort behind him. Not displeased—amused.
Tarasque smirked faintly. “We’re not going to fall.”
“No,” Vivi agreed. “You’re not. You’ve trained for this. She’s waited for this. And the sky—” he turned to look at the horizon, where the clouds opened like gates, “—the sky’s waited too.”
Elqiana crouched low, wings twitching.
It was time.
Tarasque approached with slow, measured steps, one hand brushing along Elqiana’s side as she walked beside the dragon’s flank. Elqiana remained perfectly still, tense, but in that focused, anticipatory way creatures get when they know something important is about to begin. Her wings trembled once, folding tighter against her back.
Tarasque placed her boot in the stirrup and, with a deep breath, pulled herself upward.
She climbed deliberately, using the small leather footholds sewn into the saddle’s side, careful not to tug or shift her weight too quickly. Elqiana shifted ever so slightly beneath her, adjusting to the presence, helping without words.
At last, Tarasque settled into the saddle. She sat for a long moment, hands gripping the front curve of the pommel, her spine straight but her shoulders tight. She shifted once, twice, testing the seat, leaning left then right. The saddle creaked faintly, but held true. Elqiana gave a soft, approving exhale through her nostrils.
"Good fit," Tarasque murmured, more to herself than anyone else.
Vivi stood at her side now, nodding. “All right. Harnesses next.”
Tarasque bent forward and began threading her legs through the straps, just as he had shown her earlier. Her fingers worked steadily, if a little clumsily, buckling the leather, adjusting the tension. It took a few tries before everything sat right, but she double-checked her work before leaning back with a short breath.
Vivi walked around her once, giving each buckle a tug. “Not bad,” he said, then stepped back with a satisfied grunt. “Not bad at all.”
Tarasque glanced down at him, waiting.
Vivi’s expression softened. “Trust is important,” he said. “If you trust in Elqiana, she will keep you safe. In the saddle, and in the skies. She’s your wings now. You’re hers.”
Elqiana rumbled beneath her, the sound vibrating through the saddle and up Tarasque’s spine like a low, steady heartbeat.
“I do,” Tarasque said quietly, placing a hand against the base of Elqiana’s neck. “I trust her.”
The dragon’s tail gave a flick, wings rising.
The sky waited.
And Elqiana was ready.
With a shudder of anticipation and a final pulse of energy rippling through her limbs, Elqiana crouched low.
Tarasque barely had time to brace herself.
Then, with a deafening thud of talons pushing off stone, Elqiana launched forward.
Her powerful legs thundered across the plateau in long, bounding strides, the saddle creaking under Tarasque’s grip as wind rushed past her ears. The edge came fast, too fast, and then it was gone.
They were airborne.
The world dropped away beneath them.
For one heart-stopping moment, they were falling. The wind screamed past, and Tarasque did too, eyes clenched shut, body locked in place by the harnesses as gravity took hold.
And then—
Whumph.
Elqiana’s vast, translucent wings flared open.
Sunlight hit them like crystal glass catching fire, shimmering with pearlescent hues, and in one smooth, impossible motion, she pulled them up, up into a graceful, powerful climb. The force pressed Tarasque back into the saddle, her scream cutting off into a sharp gasp.
In the sudden quiet of the high sky, a voice slid gently into her mind, warm, resonant, and amused.
'It’s okay, little red head,' Elqiana said, her mental tone like a purr made of clouds. 'Open your eyes and see the world as I do.'
Tarasque’s breath hitched. Slowly, hesitantly, she opened her eyes.
The world stretched below them. The ocean sparkled far beneath, the cliffs now tiny, the forests a carpet of green. Clouds drifted beside them like drifting islands of mist. The wind carried a wild song through Elqiana’s wings, and for the first time, Tarasque heard it.
Truly heard it.
Freedom, and unity.
She blinked back tears, gripping the saddle a little less tightly, letting her body move with Elqiana’s rhythm instead of against it.
“I see it,” she whispered aloud.
And Elqiana, circling ever higher, roared with joy.
Vivi stood alone on the wind-scoured plateau, the cliffs behind him dropped steeply into the vast blue horizon, but his eyes were fixed on the sky.
He smiled.
Not a small smile, not the polite kind, but a broad, open, genuine grin, the kind that broke past years of restraint and quiet memory. His eyes shimmered just slightly, though the wind would take the blame for that if anyone asked.
It had been a long, long time since he’d seen it.
A rider in the sky with their dragon.
Elqiana soared like a silvered star through the heavens, her wings catching the sun and refracting it in wild, dancing colours. And strapped firmly to her back, Tarasque clung to the saddle with all her strength, her body low, her hands wrapped tightly around the pommel as Elqiana banked wide in a rising arc.
Then came the barrel roll.
Vivi's breath caught, his sharp elven eyes tracking every motion, the exact tilt of Elqiana’s wings, the torque in her spine, the way Tarasque stiffened, braced. For a heartbeat, she looked terrified, muscles locked against the surge of momentum.
But then something changed.
As the roll completed and Elqiana leveled out with a triumphant cry, Tarasque let out a sound of her own, a shout, wild and unrestrained, part scream, part laugh. She raised one hand skyward and then pounded her fist to her chest, exhilarated.
Elqiana dipped again, then spiraled upward into a second barrel roll, faster this time.
And this time, Tarasque didn't hold the pommel like it was life or death. She leaned into the motion, and this time, she cheered first.
Vivi laughed softly under his breath. "That’s it," he murmured. “That’s what it’s supposed to be.”
Wind tugged at his cloak, and somewhere far above, dragonfire glittered in the sky like a comet trail of joy.
Vivi turned and sat at the edge of the cliff, legs dangling, eyes still skybound.
It had been a long time since he’d seen a rider fly.
But now, he believed he’d see many more.
The wind roared past them as Elqiana cut through a bank of clouds, her wings skimming the mist like a dancer’s veil. Below them, the sea glinted and frothed. Above, the sky was endless. Tarasque's laughter still echoed in the open air when Elqiana’s voice drifted gently into her mind again, curious, teasing, but with a quiet, meaningful edge.
‘You’re enjoying yourself.’
Tarasque grinned against the rush of wind. ‘More than anything.’
A pause. Then:
‘Would you like to see it the way I do?’
Tarasque blinked, caught off guard. ‘You mean… through your eyes?’
‘Not just sight. Feel. Know. For a moment, let me show you what it’s like to be me.’
There was no hesitation.
‘Yes,’ Tarasque said, her voice bright with wonder. ‘Yes. Please.’
Elqiana's presence swelled in her mind, warm and vast like a tide rising. It wasn’t overwhelming, no, it was like a second heartbeat aligning with her own. Then, slowly, gently, Elqiana reached through her, and something shifted.
Tarasque gasped.
Her eyes—no, her perception—changed.
Colours exploded around her, hues she had no words for. The sky was no longer blue, but a vast spectrum of shimmering gradients. The world below wasn’t just green and stone, but pulsing with heat, with life, outlined in threads of energy. Blues bled into fiery reds, veins of orange shimmered across the landscape. Heat signatures flickered like stardust in the forests far below. White halos crowned distant peaks where magic flowed strong and ancient.
She turned her gaze toward a distant storm brewing at the sea’s edge, and saw it not as a danger, but as a slow, living creature, full of static tension and silent movement.
She felt the air shift on her scales, her scales, and the wind didn’t buffet her; it sang to her. She could sense every muscle in her wings, the ripple of air along her tail, the instinctual awareness of gravity and lift and direction.
She felt free in a way she’d never known possible.
‘This,’ Elqiana said softly, sharing the sky, ‘is my world.’
Tarasque could only whisper one word in return, choked with emotion.
‘Beautiful.’
Tarasque turned in the saddle, glancing back toward the plateau through Elqiana’s radiant, layered sight. She spotted Vivi seated at the edge, his cloak still fluttering in the breeze, his heat signature glowing like a familiar beacon of calm.
Grinning, she raised her arm and waved.
Far below, Vivi lifted his hand in return, but the motion halted mid-wave as he caught something in the corner of his eye. He turned sharply, rising to his feet.
A figure was approaching from the far side of the plateau. Quiet. Measured.
It was a woman, her gaze fixed upward, not on Vivi, not on the horizon, but on the sky itself.
On Tarasque.
She stood motionless, her expression unreadable, her posture proud but trembling with emotion just beneath the surface.
Vivi recognized her instantly.
“Don’t worry,” he said gently, stepping closer. “She’s perfectly safe. Elqiana wouldn’t let her fall. Not now. Not ever.”
Tarasque, still watching from above, felt a wave of emotion ripple through her as the dragon’s vision wavered, colours shifting, blurring. Elqiana’s presence gently withdrew, receding like the tide, warm and reassuring even as it faded from her senses.
‘The rest is yours now,’ Elqiana murmured, her voice soft as feathers in the wind.
Tarasque blinked. Her own eyes again. The sky was blue and bright, and her mother’s face, though distant, was unmistakable.
Her breath hitched.
‘Elqiana,’ she whispered, ‘take us down.’
The dragon let out a slow, contented rumble in reply and banked gracefully, wings tilting as she began a wide, circling descent. Wind curled around them as they spiraled lower, the cliff drawing closer with each gentle pass.
Below, Vivi stepped back, giving space.
Tarasque’s mother stood at the edge of the world, hands clasped, her eyes locked on the sky, tears shimmering, but not yet falling.
As Elqiana’s claws touched down on the plateau with a gentle thump, the wind stirred the dust around them in slow spirals. Her wings folded in with the grace of silk drawn tight, and she lowered herself slightly, allowing Tarasque to unbuckle the harnesses and dismount.
Tarasque slid down with practiced care, her boots finding the solid stone again, but the ground felt strange, almost distant, as if part of her still floated somewhere in the sky. She turned just in time to see her mother approaching.
Her mother’s face was glowing, eyes wide with emotion, a hand pressed to her chest. And then she smiled. A radiant, real smile that Tarasque hadn’t seen in years. It broke something open in her chest.
“It was quite nerve-wracking,” her mother said, her voice warm with pride and love, “seeing you so high up, daughter. But you looked... magnificent.”
Tarasque swallowed the lump rising in her throat, unable to speak just yet.
Her mother turned then to Elqiana, who loomed behind Tarasque like a living sculpture of moonlight and ancient power.
“Thank you,” her mother said, voice clear and steady. “Thank you for keeping her safe. I trust you. And I believe you always will.”
Elqiana lowered her head, nostrils flaring softly. A low, gentle rumble welled up from deep in her chest, not threatening, not boastful. Just… promise. A wordless vow, forged in air and soul.
Vivi stepped beside them, quiet and watchful, a small, knowing smile on his face.
Tarasque exhaled and looked between them. “It was… like nothing I’ve ever experienced,” she said at last, her voice still touched by awe. “When she let me see through her eyes, it wasn’t just sight. It was everything. I saw heat and energy and life itself moving through the world. I could feel the wind on her wings as if they were my own.”
She paused, eyes distant for a heartbeat. “The sky wasn’t blue, it was layers of light. I saw things that don’t even have names. Magic, breath, truth, like the world wasn’t hiding anything anymore.”
Her mother’s eyes shimmered. Vivi looked away for a moment, blinking hard.
“It felt like… belonging,” Tarasque finished. “Like I’ve always had wings. I just didn’t know it until now.”
Elqiana snorted softly behind her, amused and proud.
And as the wind danced once more over the plateau, mother, daughter, dragon, and Vivi stood together.
Meera the swallow burst from the sky like a feathered dart, wings beating furiously as she swooped down and landed on Vivi’s shoulder, chest heaving with exhaustion. She chirped urgently into his ear, rapid and high-pitched. Vivi blinked, brow furrowing as he tried to follow, then suddenly froze. His eyes widened, jaw dropping. “Neko found an orange dragon egg inside the mountains?” he said louder than he intended, his voice cracking with disbelief, drawing everyone's attention.
