Chapter 3 - Dragonboy
As the ritual returned to normal and the pair bonded, the tensed instructors were pleasantly relieved at how quickly the lanky youth had recovered the situation. They conversed quietly amongst themselves behind some trees.
“He’s got a cool head that one.”
“Never seen a bonding go like it!”
“Seems like a promising lad. He's a smart one.”
“With that level of calm he might end up as the leader of their dragonflight.”
“That black is a surprise. I've never seen any dragonling flying that young! Nor one so small.”
“Me either!”
“Able to fly before bonding, what a surprise.”
“Its size though. Doubt he'll carry the boy any time soon.”
“Yep. That thin and short, you’re probably correct.”
“No need to worry about it right now. None of the dragons will carry a rider for at least a year.”
“Yes, Vor is correct. Ah, take a look, the boy succeeded.”
As the adult's discussion winded down, Ash had finally finished bonding with the contrary hatchling.
The little beast had entered a food coma while Ash sat nearby. Its bloated belly bulged while it relaxed, having coiled back around the quartz.
The sitting boy was slightly disappointed the hatchling didn’t play with him like the others, but was very happy he had finally gotten his dragon.
All the trainees here had waited years afterall, for all the older boys to pair off before it was finally their turn.
Gorged, the small black didn’t seem to mind his presence anymore, so the boy sat on the ground idly scratching its' perfect tiny scales. As he ruminated over his whole bonding, Ash suddenly shivered in his soggy tunic. I hope I dry out soon. And I almost got trampled into meat paste.
After questioning looks from the remaining waiting boys, the instructors waved the go ahead for the next trainee to start.
During the next bonding, Ash’s mood slightly soured at how easy it was for the next trainee. But it was tough to stay put-out after his new partner started snoring softly.
He was so enthralled with his new partner that he didn't even notice when the large scarlet bonded near the end.
Eventually the tenth boy and dragonling paired up, ending the bonding rituals for this dragoness' clutch.
The spectators waited patiently as the sun crept higher into the sky. This time in the meadow was a important moment for the newly bonded. For the dragonlings to acclimate to their new partners, and to leave their mother forever.
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When the sun had reached the zenith and every dragonling in the deep throes of a good food coma, an instructor stalked out of the treeline.
He barked out to get the boys attention, “From this moment on, you are all truly dragonboys and therefore have a dragonboy's responsibilties. You are now your dragon’s caretaker. You are responsible for feeding it, playing with it, and talking to it. You’ll do everything, so that one day when your dragon has grown strong, it will bear you into the skies. Only then will you Wartorn be capable of repaying the Empire with your service. The Empire that has provided this path for you. Never forget that. You are all hereby assigned one month with the sole task of getting to understand and accomodating your dragon's needs before we resume lessons. You had best be prepared to work thrice as hard. Does everyone understand?”
“Yessir!!!”
“Now firmly grasp your destiny and fall in.”
As the group set off down the mountain the violet dragoness gave a long series of rumbling huffs, as if sending off her brood with her final goodbyes. Accepting a understanding pat from the nearby man, she then knelt to allow the rider onto her back.
And in a gale of dust, the dragon and rider were in the air and were soon out of sight.
Marching in single-file, the dragonboys and their instructors steadily left the breezy clearing behind as they entered a narrow ravine heading down the mountain.
Ash looked down at the little dragon curled up in the open pack across his chest. The little guy, and it was a male, hadn't woken up during the speech, nor when he had bundled it and the quartz up. Or when he'd been clapped across the back by a few of his proud instructors. And the black was still firmly wrapped around his shiny treasure.
Stumbling slightly, Ash quickly regained his balance, but the little one in Ash's arms was jostled.
The sleepy hatchling looked up at the boy with heavily lidded eyes. Raspsss? He vocalized a raspy hiss of discontent that was combined with strong jerky breath that wrinkled Ash’s nose.
I'm supposed to talk to it right? It didn't really matter about what either, he recalled. So he vented in a low voice, “Oi, you’re annoyed are you? Attacking me and now you're tired. I’m tired too you know. I had to wake up early to stand outside your cave, and I haven’t eaten since last night.”
The other boys took cue from his actions and the rocky chasm soon filled with low mutterings.
After a short while Ash's partner was lulled back to sleep with all the droning.
The sun was well on its way towards the horizon by the time the group exited the ravine into the beginnings of a descending and wide mountain valley. There was a stone gatehouse, but no one stopped them as they passed by.
Ash tiredly raised his head to peer down the path. At the bottom were rough slabbed buildings nestled underneath a fortified stone wall that stretched wide between the arms of the mountain they were descending. It was the ancient Skyfort, and Ash's home.
The fortification defended not only the dragon grounds, but also served as the training grounds of all Talon's dragonriders.
A thin hatchet-faced man was waiting patiently for them. He waited until the boys assembled themselves before him.
"I am houselead Huso. I'm the one in charge of the dragonhouse that will serve as your new quarters. Follow me."
The new dragonboys fell back into line as he led the newly bonded pairs to one of the many dragonhouses. Living areas solely dedicated to the housing and feeding of dragons.
As there was a need to distance the dragons from the soldiers who manned the walls, the dragons and their partners were housed away from the rest of the human living quarters, which were situated much closer to the wall.
When the exhausted and foot-sore dragonboys trudged into their designated dragonhouse, each pair was assigned a simple but large stall with a feeding trough and a wooden bench for the boys to sleep on. Their old bunks in the dorms would soon be filled by new trainees.
Ash one-handed slid the door closed on stall eight after easing into his new quarters. Spotting a fresh pile of hay in the center of the stall, he softly deposited his coiled dragon atop it. As the black dragonet laid there snoring, the youth pondered aloud, “What am I going to name you?”
A slow raspy rumble back was all he got.
Ash broke out into a wide grin. That was a sign. Stooping down to rub his sleeping partner’s head. “I’m going to call you Rasp.”
Fighting off the urge to lay down he took off for dinner with a skip in his step. Once Rasp was big enough, he’d be a dragonrider!