Gadalik drew back slightly from his friend’s volume, and the implication that his plans were illogical. “No?” he answered, more confused by her reaction than anything. “Based on what Guinevere told me, and the fact that earth dragons are safe on the mountain below light dragons after they lost their wings, it only makes sense that light types won't target a dragon that's flightless.”
“Earth dragons are only safe at the mountain base because the light types’ territories are on the peaks. It was never about who could fly–it was about who could trespass,” Gretel corrected him sternly, still maintaining eye contact.
The hybrid swallowed uncomfortably. The young wind dragoness was usually energetic and constantly changing her focus to whatever fancied her in the moment. The fact that she was now still and intent on him hammered home how serious this was.
“Flight just happens to be the easiest way to come across their territory,” she explained after a brief pause to consider where his facts had gotten mixed up. “But it doesn't matter how you get there… Because if you get there, you're dead.”
Gadalik processed this. He thought back to his initial conversation about it with the fairy dragoness:
“Wait…so they are only targeting dragons that can fly?” he had asked her.
“As far as I'm aware, yes,” Guinevere said, “because flying is the only way to reach them on the mountaintops.”
When he then mentioned his ability to climb, he realized now that she had changed the subject–bringing up the fact that earth dragons likely wouldn't let him reach the mountain to climb it in the first place.
Was that her way of gently trying to deter me from going near light dragons? he wondered.
Suddenly the memory of how she had handled his emergence day goal came to the forefront of his mind.
“Flight comes more naturally to some dragon types than others,” the pale blue fairy dragoness softly stated, sitting down beside him. “For example, wind dragons can use their ability to create gales that they can easily glide on. However, their bodies are lightweight. When it comes to heavier winged types, like fire dragons, their flight is limited, even though their wings are fully functional.”
“Are you saying I’ll never be able to fly because I'm heavyweight…?” Gadalik asked quietly, and the pink glow of her wings faded to purple, then blue, and she averted her light yellow eyes without answering.
Glacia had encouraged them to work together toward his goal to fly, and they had wasted weeks before Gadalik caught on that they knew from the start it was impossible for him.
At first he was grateful that she had tried to let him down easy, and justified it since they had probably wanted to spare his feelings. But now he felt that uncharacteristic anger take hold of him for the second time upon realizing that she had done it yet again in their discussion of light dragons: instead of dashing his hope of reasoning with them, the adults in his life tried to find another excuse for him not to discover he was wrong–just like they had fed into his delusions of flight. He heard another growl escape from his throat and he pushed past Gretel to descend the hill.
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The wyvern quickly began gliding to match his pace. “Did I just hear a growl? From you?!”
“Yeah,” he muttered, not even glancing her way; his eyes were trained on the forest where his adoptive parents resided. It isn't fair. I'd rather them be upfront with me than lead me on like that… Do they think I can’t handle failure? Can't they see it hurts so much more to fail after they let me believe I could succeed?
“Well…I'm sorry if I struck a nerve. I just don't want you getting yourself killed,” she said.
Gadalik hesitated, not sure why she was apologizing. Then it hit him. “N-No–I'm not mad at you,” he assured her, meeting her gaze to prove his honesty. “At least someone in my life has the guts to correct me.”
“What do you mean?” Gretel asked, obviously because she cared, but he detected a desire to meddle within her tone.
The young green dragon continued walking. “I’m sick of being treated like a hatchling,” he vented. “I thought I've been doing ok on my own lately, but apparently everyone still thinks I'm too sensitive to be told when my goals aren't achievable. Just a few weeks ago, my family let me think that I'd be safe to meet the light dragons if the earth types let me through. And…I'll even bet that they know there isn't a chance the earth dragons would invite me into their territory, after all…” He slowed to a stop, his anger fading. There really is no hope for me to have a life outside of the forest, is there…?
Gretel landed beside him, placing her purple-tipped paw on top of his comparatively large one in an awkward attempt to get his attention. “Uh… You good…?”
The hybrid tried to shake the doubt from his mind; he didn't want Gretel to see him so distraught and start coddling him too. Not knowing how else to hide his emotions, he turned his back to her and rushed for his home.
“H-Hey! Don't ignore me!” she huffed, easily catching up by surfing the breeze. “If you want, I could go talk to them while you calm down.”
“I don't think Glacia would listen to you,” he rejected the idea. “She barely even listens to me.”
“Can't Guinevere help convince her to stop babying you?”
“Guinevere’s part of the problem,” he cried, frustrated.
The wyvern landed once more–this time to block her friend’s path. “Okay. You want my advice?”
Gadalik couldn't think clearly enough to make a decision so soon, but ultimately, he nodded.
“I think you should stop waiting around for their permission to go where you want,” she said. “It sounds like they aren't giving you a chance to prove you can make it on your own–so give yourself that chance.”
He considered it. “That…isn't true. Sure, they made a fuss about letting me come with you to the hills… But they still go out of their way to help me try the things I want to do, even if it might not work out. Or…things that they know won't work out…” Why am I appreciating that? Isn't that why I was mad at them in the first place?
“Hey. You don't have to listen to me, either,” Gretel added. “Do what you think is best.”
The green juvenile shook his head. “All I want is for them to stop beating around the bush when it comes to the goals I set. I just…don't really know what to do about it.”
“My offer to talk to them for you still stands.”
“No–if I let you speak up for me, that would just be more proof to them that I'm not capable on my own.”
She gave a soft hum of understanding.
“...But, I would like you to come with me and see how my talk with them goes,” he invited her with a slight smile. “Maybe you can give me tips on what to say beforehand.”
She grinned. “That’s what I want to hear!”