It had been almost a full round of seasons since his little rebellion, and it seemed to have paid off. They had given him more free time at various points along his route, and even come at him once with rags and brushes, polishing his scales until they shone.
It was quite nice really.
But today was strange. He was currently headed towards his next stop with no bags, and only a single rider. On top of that, the rider was an adult, which had never happened to him before. He hoped that this wasn't going to become a regular thing, their weight felt badly distributed and awkward on his back, and they couldn't crouch in his neck as the children did.
If they tried to put a saddle and bridle on him, he was rebelling, end of. He had seen horses and wanted none of it.
That said, this seemed to be a special occasion, and he didn’t really understand what the handlers had wanted from him. They had stripped him of his leathers and held him back from leaving, giving him slow and careful instructions on what they wanted him to do, but his lack of language skills was showing, and no matter how slowly they went, he was still confused.
As far as he could tell, from their body language and gestures, they wanted him to go to a certain city, circle a bit, go onto the next one, do the same thing, and then head back to them to report.
Very odd. He had moved his head in a gesture of “I don’t understand”, and after a minute of rather heated debate, one of the humans had climbed up onto his back and ordered him to fly. He knew that word!
He more or less understood where they wanted him to go, he wasn't stupid, he just had no idea why.
It wasn’t a long flight, a week or so at normal speeds, but they hadn’t even bought food! Not even a safety harness! He was pretty sure that adult humans needed food and water just as much as children, as well as breaks, to relieve themselves and to stretch their legs, and that they still cracked when they hit the ground.
The rider knelt on his back, clutching onto his neck, and Dragon decided that this trip was going to be as fast as he could make it without dropping them. The whole thing was very worrying, and he wanted this over with as fast as possible.
The world below them was late spring, and the earth below was clean and bright, new growth everywhere. The spring rains had washed away any last traces of winter, leaving only good soil and healthy plants, all doing their best to compete for the brightest display.
He followed the line of the road between cities, heading along the coast. Roads made good landmarks, and he often followed them if the route was right, taking joy in the little glimpses he could see of the lives below. A glance down told him that this one was a little greener than normal, and lacking the travellers he would normally expect to see. Disappointing.
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He was flying high, so it was a little hard to tell, but so far he hadn’t seen a single walker, never mind horses and carts. Very strange. The few farms he flew over seemed cold and quiet, lacking both people and woodsmoke, although it was hard to be sure from this high up.
He had visited the first city on his route once before, only a couple of years previous, and hadn’t liked it much. He thought of it as "Circles". The buildings were all packed into concentric rings, and the only place to land was directly in the centre, amongst the carts and people. The air smelt of coal and smoke and it was, all-in-all, an unpleasant and irritating place to visit.
He tucked his legs back and beat his wings to get up speed, feeling as the rider on his back clung on tighter. He could make it there in a little over a day if they kept the rest stops short. Best get this over with.
-
The rider had not bought food or water, yet still expressed unhappiness when Dragon offered them half a deer. Oh well, no loss for him. He swallowed it down, waited for the human to finish seeing to their own needs, and then they were off again.
-
He knew something was off long before he reached Circles. There was no smell of smoke in the air and no noise of mining from the hills.
There was new growth over the spoil piles outside the city, which was also not normal. He had watched them grow over the years, and they were normally in constant flux, ever-changing black scars upon the landscape. Even the shape of the land changed year on year, making it confusing to navigate.
Past that city would be thick woodland, but the land around it had been chopped and cleared for farmland, which was now quiet and still.
The lack of activity explained why they didn’t want him to land, and why they hadn’t sent him with the normal goods. No point in landing if there was nobody there to pick it up!
-
Dragon did as the handlers had asked, circling low over each city a few times, before moving on, leaning so that the rider could see.
He tried to land in Circles, but they didn’t like that, making fearful gestures and noises until he aborted the landing.
Even from above, there was a smell of old rot in the air, but whatever had been here was long gone. Still, he couldn’t communicate that, so made do with low sweeps.
The second city was much the same. It was by the ocean, and not somewhere he remembered visiting before. The smell of rot here was much stronger, and the smell of smoke still lingering, even to the human on his back. Half of the city was in ruins and something still smouldered near the docks, but the forest was already reclaiming what it would.
The rider was very quiet after that, and they flew back towards home in silence.
-
He had transported a child once, a few years back, who seemed to almost understand him. He had imagined he could even understand when they spoke back, and dropping them off at their destination had made him lonely in a way he hadn't known he could be.
He felt a sense of loss as he thought back to them. Maybe if they were here now then he could get the message across, but he had left them weeks away, and it was too far for him to detour.
He hoped the child had done well for themselves. They had been a happy little spark, fearless and bright with magic. Maybe one day he’d meet them again.
He was musing to himself, flying tight and fast, when he smelt the smoke on the wind.
It was getting towards evening, and the scent of smoke and charred meat indicated a cook-fire, people settling down rather than travelling onwards in the dark. The smell would be too faint for the human on his back to ever pick up on, but… It was the first sign of life he’d scented in a normal three days flight range.
Mentally shrugging to himself, he put his face into the wind and headed toward the fire.