Talon followed the massive form of the Mother of Dragons through the winding cavern, Lyra close behind. His new senses were still adjusting. Everything felt sharper, more vivid—the sound of dripping water echoing through the stone tunnels, the faint scent of minerals and ancient earth filling the air, the gentle swish of his tail brushing against the cavern floor. Even the very warmth of the ground beneath his claws felt alive, pulsing with energy.
The Mother led them to a wide-open clearing outside the cave. The air was fresh and crisp, and Talon squinted against the brightness of the midday sun as it shone over the landscape. They stood on a high plateau, and beneath them stretched endless skies and vast seas far beyond the horizon.
“This,” the Mother said, spreading her massive wings wide, “is your world now. Your domain. The ocean and the skies will challenge you. But they will also provide. A dragon’s first lesson is to understand the land and the surrounding life.”
Talon glanced at Lyra. She looked equally awestruck, her pale pink scales reflecting the sunlight. He could sense her uncertainty, though she tried to hide it behind a brave facade.
“First, you must learn to hunt,” the Mother continued. Her voice held no warmth or coddling, only the commanding tone of a teacher who had done this many times before. “Your strength means nothing without sustenance. Follow me.”
With a single powerful thrust of her wings, she leaped into the air, her body gracefully soaring high into the sky. Talon felt a rush of excitement watching her ascend. One day, he would fly like that.
But for now, he had to stay grounded.
“Are you coming?” Lyra asked, her voice softer than the Mother’s, but with a hint of playfulness.
Talon nodded, flexing his claws against the earth. He was still adjusting to this body, but it felt natural. More natural than he ever felt as a human.
They followed the Mother, racing down the sloping path, their claws digging into the dirt as they gained speed. The terrain shifted from rocky cliffs to dense forest, and soon they found themselves in a lush green jungle filled with towering trees and thick vines. The air was heavy with the smell of moisture and life, and the sounds of distant creatures rustling in the underbrush echoed all around them.
“This is your training ground,” the Mother’s voice boomed from above as she circled overhead. “Your prey is near. But a dragon must not rely only on strength. You must learn to stalk. To strike with precision.”
Talon’s muscles tensed as he scanned the forest, trying to pick up any sign of movement. His senses were alive, every sound, every scent sharpening as he focused. His dragon instincts took over.
“Do you hear it?” the Mother asked.
Talon strained his ears, and there it was—a rustling in the bushes up ahead. His heart began to pound with excitement. He felt the thrill of the hunt course through him.
Lyra crouched low beside him, her eyes locking on the same spot. She was silent, her movements graceful and deliberate.
“You go left,” Talon whispered. “I’ll take the right.”
She nodded, and the two of them split, moving in sync. Talon felt his muscles coil with anticipation. The scent of the prey grew stronger—a small animal, likely a deer-like creature, grazing in the clearing ahead. Talon could hear its heartbeat, smell its fear as it sensed the danger.
He crept closer, his breath steady, his body poised to strike.
Then, without warning, Lyra lunged from the bushes. Her jaws snapped around the creature’s neck before it could even react. The hunt was over in seconds.
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Talon was impressed by her speed and precision. He hadn’t expected her to move so quickly.
Lyra stood over her catch, her chest rising and falling with adrenaline. She looked at Talon and grinned, her eyes sparkling with excitement.
“Not bad for my first hunt, right?” she teased.
Talon chuckled, shaking his head. “Not bad at all.”
“Good,” the Mother’s voice called from above. She descended gracefully and landed with a thud beside them. “But remember, hunting is not just for survival. It is a test of your instincts, your power, and your patience. You must learn to master them all.”
Talon nodded, taking her words to heart. He could feel the raw energy inside him, waiting to be unleashed. But he needed control. He needed to understand the balance between his strength and the world around him.
“Now,” the Mother said, “feast. You will need your strength for what comes next.”
Talon and Lyra began to eat, their sharp teeth tearing through the flesh of the creature. It felt natural, primal, and empowering. Every bite fuelled their bodies, every taste awakening more of their dragon instincts.
The hunt was just the beginning.
----------------------------------------
The next day began with an excitement neither Talon nor Lyra could contain. After their first successful hunt, their confidence had grown, and they were eager for what the Mother of Dragons had in store next.
“Today, you learn the most important skill of any dragon,” the Mother said as she led them back to the high plateau where they had begun their journey. “Flight.”
Talon’s heart skipped a beat at the word. Flight. The freedom of the skies, the rush of wind through his wings—he had dreamt of this moment. And now, it was within reach.
“You’ve felt it already,” the Mother continued. “The strength in your wings, the way they twitch, ready to lift you off the ground. But flight is more than just strength. It’s balance, control, and instinct. If you cannot master the skies, you will fall.”
Talon glanced at Lyra. She looked nervous. He could sense her uncertainty, the same fear of failure that lurked in the back of his own mind. But he pushed it aside. He was ready.
The Mother spread her massive wings, and the wind shifted around her, as if responding to her command. “Watch closely.”
With a single, powerful thrust, she launched herself into the sky. Her wings caught the wind effortlessly, and she soared upward, her body moving with fluid grace as she glided across the open sky.
Talon’s eyes widened in awe. She made it look so easy.
“Now,” she called from above, “it’s your turn.”
Talon stepped forward, his heart racing. He stretched his wings out, feeling the tension in the muscles. They were heavy, but powerful. He could feel the wind brushing against them, teasing him with the promise of flight.
He crouched low, his muscles coiling. Then, with a deep breath, he pushed off the ground and flapped his wings.
At first, he only rose a few feet, wobbling as he tried to find his balance. But he flapped harder, pushing against the wind, and slowly, he began to rise higher.
The sensation was exhilarating. The ground fell away beneath him, and the wind rushed around him, lifting him higher into the sky. He could feel the power of his wings, the strength coursing through his body.
But it wasn’t easy. His wings strained under the effort, and every movement felt unsteady, as though he could fall at any moment. He struggled to find the right rhythm, to balance his body with the wind.
“Focus!” the Mother called from above. “Feel the wind. Let it guide you.”
Talon gritted his teeth and flapped harder, trying to find that balance. And then, suddenly, something clicked. The wind seemed to catch him just right, and his wings locked into place. He wasn’t just flapping to stay aloft—he was gliding.
The world below spread out before him, vast and endless. He could see the ocean stretching to the horizon, the forest far beneath him, the sky above vast and blue. For the first time, he felt free.
Lyra, however, was struggling. She flapped her wings desperately, trying to rise, but she couldn’t quite catch the wind. She wobbled, her wings tilting awkwardly as she hovered just above the ground.
“Don’t force it!” Talon called out. “Feel the wind! Let it carry you!”
She glanced at him, her eyes wide with frustration. But she took a deep breath, steadied herself, and tried again. Slowly, her wings caught the wind, and she began to rise, shakily at first, but soon she was gliding beside him.
Talon felt a surge of pride. They were both flying.
The Mother of Dragons watched them with approval, her massive form circling above like a guardian. “Good,” she called. “Now, we begin the real test. Follow me.”
Without another word, she took off toward the horizon, her wings cutting through the sky with powerful strokes. Talon and Lyra exchanged a quick glance before following her, their wings working hard to keep up.
The wind grew stronger as they flew, the air becoming colder the higher they climbed. Talon felt his muscles burn with the effort, but he pushed through the pain, determined not to fall behind.
They flew for what felt like hours, crossing vast stretches of ocean and sky. Finally, the Mother slowed, descending toward a series of floating islands that hovered high above the water.
“This,” she said as they landed on one of the islands, “is where your true training begins. From this point on, you will rely on your own strength to survive. You are no longer hatchlings. You are juveniles now.”