A thunderous boom reverberated through the room, waking Mason from his slumber. He jerked and turned to the open door. Standing there was a burly figure, though the dim, yellow light from outside did not reveal any immediate details. Mason stared blankly at the figure for a moment before realizing they were saying something. Though the words were muddled and jumbled in his ear, he recognized the voice as his mentor, Graham. As he gained his bearings, he managed a half hearted, confused grumble.
“—need to get up you lazy brat! You’re getting your first assignment.” Graham’s words finally broke through Mason’s ears, at least that last part.
“At two in the morning?” Mason grumbled as he looked at his alarm clock. “What is so important this early?”
“Get dressed and wake Kastari, meet us at the airfield in fifteen minutes,” Graham barked with a growl of frustration. After Graham slammed the door shut, Mason contorted his face and stuck his tongue out at the door. He contemplated returning to his deep slumber and dealing with the mission when the sun was up. The bed was so cozy and comfortable after all; sinking deep into the warm foam with a thick blanket like he did before.
Bah, he’ll just come back and drag me out himself. Not worth the pain.
With the mutter of a curse, Mason rolled out of his bed and moseyed over to his wardrobe. He pulled his nightwear off and donned his pristine flight uniform in a minute. At this point, it was second nature for him to change into it that fast; Graham saw to it that it was drilled into his muscle memory during his training.
In the mirror, Mason made sure everything was straightened and tidy. The midnight black leather of his flight suit was snug against his lean build, the Empire Dragon Corp’s insignia pinned directly over his heart, the pure black gem in the center glimmering in the low light of his desk lamp; he smiled at the newly adorned bar above his emblem, identifying him as Lieutenant. Just one rank below Graham’s Second Lieutenant rank. He adjusted the collar to make his uniform perfectly symmetrical, though he never understood why this was even necessary. The uniform was always in disarray after a flight. Why put in all this effort to make everything perfect?
Mason reached for his Drake Call on his nightstand, holding down the red scale embedded in the middle. “Kastari, wake up, we’ve been summoned for a mission,” he spoke into the device. Pressing the scale brought a bit of comfort to him as each Drake Call was fitted with the scale of the dragon it was meant to reach. It made it convenient to get new scales when the magic died out, but also comforting to have a part of his dragon at all times.
“I told you we’d get a mission in the middle of the night. You owe me a cow.” The raspy, snake-like voice of Kastari responded through the device, followed by a deep, growling yawn.
“Whatever lizard-brain. Meet at the airfield in five minutes.” It seemed the majority of the conversation on the flight was going to revolve around cattle. Loads of fun for me.
The walk to the airfield was enveloped in silence. Dormitories stood shadowed with their windows dark, as if the buildings themselves were asleep. This stillness was merely the result of the other inhabitants enjoying their well-deserved slumber—a luxury that Mason too should have been partaking in, if not for the duty-bound guards who roamed the grounds during the nocturnal hours.
After a few minutes of walking, Mason came upon the end of the dirt path. A field of grass spanning hundreds of yards, large enough to field as many as a hundred full-grown dragons. There were spots where overzealous Flamebreath dragon’s fire had something to say about the grass. A cool, low mist hovered over the field, giving it an eerie, haunted feel.
As Mason stepped onto the field, a blur of red scales entered his vision from above, landing directly in front of him, less gracefully than what was probably intended. At three years of age, she finally reached her full size, something Mason expected her to get used to soon.
Extending out her peach wings, Kastari flashed Mason a smug smile. Her crimson scales glistening against the light front he lamp post, her deep yellow eyes glaring into his, smoke rising between her sharp teeth.
“Beat you again,” Kastari hissed, puffing her chest out with pride, her light red underbelly expanding in an attempt to look more imposing, failing to intimidate Mason as she intended.
“Congratulations, you big orca, you’ve won your special prize of being extra tired!” Mason responded, clapping slowly.
With a twitch of an eye, Kastari’s smirk wavered at the mention of orca. “One of these days, I will bite Graham’s head off for that comment.” Mason seized every opportunity to remind his dragon of Graham’s comparison of her adult size to that of an orca whale.
“Besides, I walked this time. I bet if I ran I—” Mason was cut off by someone clearing their throat, causing Kastari to whip around. Her tail wrapped around Mason, sliding him to her side where he could see his mentor standing arms crossed, feet tapping. Strands of hair extended it multiple directions in his beard, his cold, disapproving eyes hovered over deep bags. For once, Mason could not blame Graham for looking grumpy, he must have been awoken unpleasantly as well. Next to him stood a man, taller than Graham, but his build seemed stockier, his face showing more wear in with age. Behind him stood a large, brown Groundclaw dragon, taller and wider than Kastari twice over; he built as if his main task was running through buildings. They looked familiar, but their identities eluded Mason; he was supposed to memorize all superior officers, but that task put him to sleep every time he tried.
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Ulbhag, Graham’s loyal Groundclaw, was nowhere to be seen. As hard as he tried to hide it, a smirk creased his face. So he’s not coming on this mission, fantastic. The smirk quickly evaporated with his mentor's gruff, booming voice.
“You’re late again,” Graham grumbled, disapproval evident in his voice.
“Ten minutes before being assigned, right? We were here in five minutes.” Mason retorted. Though not a requirement of the Corp’s, Graham made clear at the start of Mason’s training he was to be early to every scheduled assignment. While Mason consciously figured he was just strict with time, in the back of his mind he knew it was because he tended to be late to everything as a youngling squire.
Graham pulled out his rusty mechanical pocket watch and snorted, “Six minutes. If we were not short on Flamebreaths at the moment, you would never be chosen.” It was then that Mason noticed they were not alone in the airfield. In the distance, another Flamebreath took off with their rider, followed by a deep blue dragon, an Aquafin dragon.
Were.. we the last ones here? Mason took a deep breath, trying to combat the tightening in his chest.
“All Flamebreaths are needed? So the mission is to burn a lot of stuff?” Kastari exclaimed. Her tail thumped the ground, causing the dirt around them to vibrate. .
“Don’t get too excited, dragonet,” the other man interjected.
“Dragonet?” Kastari cried. “I’ll have you know I am at full growth.”
“Watch your tone, young one.” The deep, growling voice of the Groundclaw made the hair on Mason’s neck stand up. “Three years of age is barely a dragon, so speak accordingly with your captains present.”
Captain? Mason thought, noticing the claw shaped pin above the unknown man’s Corp insignia. That’s when Mason recognized him. He straightened his posture. “I apologize, Captain Oliver. Kastari was just…” With a quick glance, he could see Kastari had also stiffened, recognizing her error: talking back to the champion dragon, Fionan. “Impassioned. We are both excited to go on our first mission together, sir.”
The captain looked over Mason with curious eyes. “Keep calm, youngling. You will accompany us in pursuing one of several escaped powerplant dragons.”
Youngling? I’m no longer a youngling, I made the rank of Lieutenant, Mason thought. As much as he wanted to speak it aloud, he bit his tongue.
“Some of those pathetic dragons escaped? How amusing.” Kastari stifled a chuckle after a glare from Graham.
“This one in particular is of importance.” Captain Oliver handed Mason the mission brief document which he read over, the description of the dragon catching his eye.
“A Shockwing? I thought those were extinct?” Mason exclaimed. Reading further, he realized that was not the strangest detail. “And it has a—”
“An egg. I hope you see the importance of this mission, youngling.”
All of them turned their heads to the new voice; A slithery, discordant voice, as if two people were speaking through one source, one a higher pitch with a regal serenity and exuberant confidence, the other a soft, but deep, reserved voice. Neither voice overpowered the other, speaking in perfect unison down to the tone and inflection of each word. In place of the voice was a dark figure, a shadow brought to life. It had a midnight blue hue that would fluctuate with the curling smog that rippled the outline of the figure. Despite it having no eyes, a chill ran down Mason’s spine as if it were staring straight into his soul.
Everyone immediately bowed as low as possible. “My Lord!” They all called at once, followed by what felt like an eternity of silence. The emperor rarely ever graced Corp members directly. The only other time Mason had seen the emperor was at his rider initiation three years ago.
Mason finally realized the emperor was expecting a response from him, “Y-yes, my lord. A loose egg is a potential wild dragon, and a wild dragon is a danger to us all.” His voice almost caught in his throat, his heart pounded against his rib cage.
“Good, assure this nuisance is dealt with by any means necessary.”
The shadowy mist disappeared as quickly as it appeared, leaving no trace of its presence anywhere outside Mason’s soul. They stayed bowed for a moment, frozen in place waiting for the emperor to return any second. If the Emperor himself came to this briefing, this must be really important. Once he was sure the emperor would not return, Mason looked back up to Graham, who already had his head raised. His expression was still its usual gruff, mean demeanor, but Mason caught glimpses of fear in his eyes. Captain Oliver’s composure did not falter. He must have encountered the Emperor many times by now as a Captain.
“My patience grows weary, let us go, Lieutenant.” Captain Oliver effortlessly climbed onto Fionan’s back and took to the sky in a swift motion. Mason looked back to Graham who took a deep breath and nodded. Kastari leaned her shoulder low for Mason to ease his climb onto her back. With a few beats of her wings, they took off after the Captain.
⧫ ⧫ ⧫ ⧫
Commander Leif watched from the balcony as the last team departed the airfield. He took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose. He stepped back into the command room, the oval table in the center was littered with papers, the chairs crooked and out of place. The rush of the captains as Commander Leif gave the situation briefing left its mark. Feeling embarrassed by the state of the room, he shuffled the chairs into order around the table and collected the papers into neat stacks.
As he tapped the last stack against the table, aligning all sheets together, he felt a familiar, eerie presence from the balcony. He turned and bowed to the shadowy figure of the emperor looming over the railing. Unsure if the shadow was looking at him, or gazing upon the empty airfield, Leif approached the emperor slowly.
“My lord,” Leif started, “All available Flamebreaths have been deployed. I assure you this breakout will be extinguished efficiently.”
“I expect nothing less, Commander.”
“Pardon me if I overstep, but must we execute these dragons? We are already short dragons in the powerplant as is. Wild dragons have been… problematic to capture lately. Not even riders have been able to go into their territory and come out unscathed.”
“If they do not willingly return, examples must be made. We cannot have these sorts of incidents again. I know you understand.”
Lief wanted to push further, but felt the pressure exuding from the manifestation to not continue. Instead, he decided to try to get information another way. “Why show yourself to the Lieutenant, my lord? It is unlike you to speak directly to anyone lower than a Captain.”
A moment passed before the Emperor responded, “That egg must be eliminated. My presence was to instill the importance of that into the youngling.”
“More than one dragon had an egg with them, I understand it is a Shockwing egg, but why send Oliver after it over the others with a fresh Lieutenant? I’m sure—”
“That information is none of your concern, Commander. I expect a report of success in the coming days of not just this, but your other operations as well.” There was a tension in the Emperor’s voice Lief never heard before. With the Ichneumon gone, the scouts to the south should be called back to aid with the wild dragons to the west and let the Guards Corp handle any lingering rebellion. However, questioning the Emperor’s decision now would not go well. He could only give a bow of acknowledgement. When he raised his head again, Lief was alone once again.
Gods, I pray we are on the path to maintain peace, for the sake of humans and dragons alike.