I gazed at my ever-shifting face reflected back at me through the river. The scales surrounding my eye were broken and bloody, and while the eye itself remained intact, a violent slash cut across it diagonally, rendering me blind.
"The scales will heal and grow back eventually, but the eye...the eye never will."
I looked up from my reflection to Fyrlia. She had found me right as I was escaping from Kazlar and guided me away from him to this river where we would be safe while the townsfolk dealt with him.
"I know," I responded, the bitterness evident in my tone.
A missing eye was a major setback and weakness. I'd never be able to see from my right side again, putting me at a higher risk of getting injured, or worse, killed, and that risk would only increase when I began the search for my sister. And then if my element was discovered...
"Ragathone curse it!" I swore, snarling with rage as I wrenched a branch straight off a tree with my jaws. A deep satisfying crack filled the air when it snapped, leaving me standing over the broken branch, struggling to calm the fire in my veins.
Fyrlia stared at me, worry shining in her eyes.
A sigh left my body, and with it the rage dissipated from my body like a fine mist, leaving behind a feeling of guilt.
I shouldn't have lashed out like that, especially in front of her.
"I'll feel better the further away I am from here."
She gave me a slight nod, seemingly unconvinced, before frowning slightly. "What do you mean? You're not planning on leaving the town now, are you?"
"I need to."
She bounded forward until she was right up close and personal to say, "Woah, woah, woah. You need to? No, we need you to stay here so we can figure out what happened and what to do with Kazlar, not for you to go running off." Realizing how close she was, she backed off a few small steps and continued, "Besides, Kazlar wouldn't want you running away, now would he?"
The glint in her eye screamed victory, and I almost felt bad having to crush that light, but I did so anyway.
"He’d rather me leave than go running back to him like a lost hatchling, assuming he’s even still alive. I'm leaving, it’s final, so don't try to stop me."
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I took a few paces forward and unfurled my wings, only for Fyrlia to step in front of me once more.
“Well, if I can’t change your mind, then I’m coming with you,” she declared with a smug face.
I gaped at her in astonishment.
Who does she think she is, dictating where I go and who I go with?
“You are most certainly not coming with me. You don’t even know where I’m going.”
That smug face only got smugger, if such a thing were possible, while she countered, “And you do?”
We both knew she had won when I had nothing to say in rebuttal, instead left standing there grasping for excuses while she turned, flicking me lightly with her tail and nearly impaling my remaining eye on her spikes.
“Oops,” she said cheekily, “Nearly made you completely blind there.” More serious now, she added, “You’re going to need help adjusting with one eye,” she paused to send me a warning look when I opened my mouth to argue before continuing, “whether you like it or not.”
I sighed in resignation. “I’m not going to convince you otherwise, am I?”
“Nope!” She exclaimed. “So, have you decided where we’re going yet?”
“Estryai,” I said grimly, “We fly to Estryai.”
~~~
Flying was hard. Really hard. I’d just be coasting on the wind and then…
“Rylar! Watch out, mountain on your right!”
I swerved to the left, my train of thought lost. “How long until we’re out of these cursed mountains?”
“We should be nearly to the plains by now. If we keep this pace it probably won’t be any longer than an hour.”
I grunted in reply, turning my attention to the clouds beneath us and straining my eye in an attempt to see through them.
“Rylar!”
“What?” I snapped in annoyance, looking in the direction of Fyrlia’s voice. She was above me — not for the first time this trip — and I was nearly dipping through the cloud cover.
“You’re drifting again! Get back up before you go through the cover!”
“I know!” I said in a clipped, frustrated voice while I climbed back up to her level. Apparently adjusting to one eye is incredibly difficult. Not only was the throbbing pain building into a headache, but my perception of distance seemed off and I was constantly drifting away from my intended path.
Right as I reached the same height as her she gave me an annoyed look and sped forward, pushing the pace and forcing me to struggle to keep up. While I was quick for a Ryzinthin and have beat nearly every Yaegran in a race, I’m still not as quick as a Farralyn.
Irritated, I nearly lashed out at her again, but before I could I realized why she was upset.
She was just trying to help and make sure I didn’t get hurt. We’re in dwarven territory after all; breaking through the cloud cover is a death sentence.
“Fyrlia!” She gave no sign that she had heard me, but I knew she was likely just ignoring me so I kept going, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be getting mad at you, I’m just trying to adjust to everything right now and it’s a lot. I didn’t mean for it to come out like that.”
Silence rang through the air. I chirped softly, letting her know I truly meant my apology, and finally, she relented. We slowed to a glide, coasting easily on the wind.
The slower pace allowed me to relish the feeling of air on my scales, a feeling unique to flying and impossible to describe. If it was possible to physically feel freedom, then that is what it would feel like, though nothing could ever be precisely the same. I closed my eye, inhaling deeply and allowing the cool mist to calm the burning in my wound.
Wait- mist?
My eye snapped open just in time to spot Fyrlia reaching the same conclusion as I. We both roared, warning each other of the danger, but it was too late. A sharp tooth poked from the cloud cover, barely identifiable and much too close for either of us to stop or dodge in time. We barely managed to slow ourselves as we crash-landed into it, and while Fyrlia at least managed to make it look somewhat neat, I rolled and tumbled for a moment, halting myself just as I was about to slide into a fissure.
Fyrlia rose to her feet warily as I loped to her side, both of us standing back to back and staring fearfully at the dark shadows creeping from the mist.
The dwarves.