Chapter Thirty-Eight – Taking Flight

At first, Tara wasn’t certain how to respond. Acalon’s black, direct gaze never left her face.

“The Prime Dragon?” she repeated at last. “She wants to see me?”

The dragon rider’s glance flickered. “You know of her?” he asked.

It was a loaded question. Tara knew that technically speaking, she wasn’t supposed to know anything about a Prime Dragon. She had never been to Skorcrest before and as a Borzerk, she had absolutely nothing to do with dragon riders, also known as flight folk. There was a long history of conflict between her people and theirs, and Tara doubted that it would soon be forgotten if a Borzerk spoke with the Prime Dragon.

But Tara did know about Veraxyn. She had multiple previous characters who had met the Prime Dragon in her various playthroughs of Swords of Allerion. Usually those interactions were brief, but they were always a little unsettling. The respected leader of dragons and flight folk exuded power and danger. But Veraxyn had always been fair in the game and despite her great power, she had never been evil.

“I know about her,” said Tara at last. “Few people haven’t heard of the Prime Dragon of Skorcrest—even a Borzerk like me.”

She was getting better at this. At first, it had been awkward trying to explain her knowledge of Allerion to others. But Tara had learned that admitting she knew so much about this world because she had experienced it initially through an online game wasn’t particularly well-received.

Although her answer seemed reasonable enough, Tara could see Acalon wasn’t convinced. She had told him too much at their last meeting. He still didn’t trust her.

“Is it true, then?” he said. “You really are this—‘Last Hero’?”

Only Acalon could say the phrase like it was something small and scorned.

“What did the Prime Dragon say about me?” asked Tara, countering him. “She must have said something for you to come all this way.”

“It’s enough that I was asked to go,” replied Acalon. "The Prime Dragon does not explain herself to others unless she believes it wise. But you are right. She said that you are our…” He forced himself to say the next word, as clearly as he resented it, “our salvation.”

Tara didn’t want to be amused, but she was. For years she had imagined what it would be like to meet someone like Acalon, and here the dragon rider was himself, exactly as she would have imagined. His absolute refusal to accept her at face value was genuinely refreshing, considering how the others looked at her.

“Does that bother you?” asked Tara, unable to resist.

The cloth covering the lower half of Acalon’s face puffed with a short, possibly exasperated breath. But Tara knew he was genuinely troubled.

“I don’t believe it,” he said at last. “The Prime Dragon is mistaken.”

Tara’s mouth opened and closed. “Oh. But—”

She stopped herself before she could protest. The last thing she wanted was to get ahead of herself again.

“Make no mistake,” said Acalon suddenly, “I would not be here if the Prime Dragon had not commanded me. I know nothing about you, nor do I like you, Tara MacQueen. Whatever fanciful ideas you have about me, I will thank you to abandon them. You say ‘visions’ gave you some foreknowledge of me, but visions are meaningless if I know nothing of you as well. Whatever interest the Prime Dragon has taken in you, I do not understand it at all.”

The blood rose and fell in Tara’s face. She might have expected something like this from Acalon—she might have, but she really hadn’t. She was reminded again of how withdrawn and cold he had been during and after their fight against the grimps. The first time they had met, he openly questioned her ability as a warrior.

Tara’s fists clenched, trying to fight back her rising anger.

“I understand,” she said after a moment. She struggled to form words, not wanting to show weakness. “I see that everything I said would be frightening to someone who didn’t understand what was going on. I’d be scared myself. People often fear what is mysterious and new.”

This was exactly what she wasn’t supposed to do—provoke Acalon. Nothing riled the dragon rider more than questioning his courage. But Tara couldn’t help it. She was hurt, and glad to see a reciprocating emotion flicker to life in Acalon’s so often flat gaze.

“I am not afraid of you,” he said. “Why should I fear you when, as I have said, I know nothing about you except that you are mad?”

Because I know everything about you, Tara was about to say. She grit her teeth, holding the words back. As much as Acalon deserved pushback, she knew that the advantage here was hers, and it would be too easy to win. She could tell Acalon of the secret truths he had told no one, to prove her knowledge of him—how he had befriended the black dragon Fenryx—how he had suffered as a youth, neglected and abused.

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She could tell him that she knew what he looked like under his face covering, that there was a scar on his left cheek running towards his jaw that had not been caused by any grimp or troll, but a far crueler source. She could tell him that he tasted of moonlight and smoke, and describe their first kiss— how Acalon always tipped his head the same way for all the human or elven avatars she had ever played, bending towards her to see if she was willing. She could tell him how his eyes beat closed when their lips met, and how neither of them spoke afterwards, not at once.

Tara was aware of her tight breathing. She forced herself to meet Acalon’s burning gaze, his icy words and proud dismissal inviting her to lash out. But this wasn’t a fair fight, not for either of them.

“You’re right,” Tara said finally. “Maybe the Prime Dragon is mistaken.” She turned away. “If we are going, let’s go now. You said that Fenryx could carry us all to Regan?”

“Yes,” said Acalon quietly.

“I’ll tell them to get ready,” said Tara.

“Wait…” The dragon rider’s changed voice held her when she would have started back for the camp.

“What is it?” she asked. To be honest, she was surprised that he called her back. True, it wasn't like Acalon to be so deliberately antagonistic. Withdrawn, cautious, and calculating—these were traits she expected from him. But his rising antagonism seemed completely undeserved. The only way Tara could explain it was that he must be hiding some truth from her. Either he truly was afraid, or the Prime Dragon had said something to make him more guarded than usual.

“Those people,” said Acalon quietly. “Did you really save them?”

Tara blinked. “Yes. Me and my companions saved them together.”

“Companions,” repeated Acalon.

“They will come with me to Skorcrest,” said Tara firmly. “Elita the gnome, Wenrik the Borzerk, and Horon the Fenman. These are my companions, my friends. We go everywhere together.”

“Indeed?” said Acalon, and she heard that slight, ironic edge return to his voice.

“Is there a problem with that?” asked Tara.

“No,” said Acalon. “If your Borzerk friend behaves himself, I believe we can endure him.”

“Good.”

“There is something else,” said Acalon, stopping her once more. In response to Tara’s curiosity, his head slightly lifted. “I know that I have not been—welcoming—towards you. I am not aware that you require welcome. Our kind is needed, not often praised, and rarely rewarded for what we do. But perhaps I…” He stopped, his black eyes burning.

“Our kind?” prompted Tara cautiously. "What do you mean?"

“You are a Borzerk and I am a Skor,” said Acalon. “But we are, both of us, warriors.”

The last thing Tara expected was any kind of compliment. “Um…yes?”

“I do not fear you, whether you are the Last Hero of Allerion or not,” said Acalon. “I do not care what others believe you to be. But for this—what you’ve done for these people. I do honor you.”

This time, Tara was beyond hiding her emotion. It was hard to believe, but these were the exact words that Acalon said in the game when she first began to impress him. As much as she had done, often by mistake, to get on the dragon rider’s bad side—acts of bravery still weighed more with him than anything else, even his own doubts.

“I th-thank you,” she stammered awkwardly.

“Don’t,” said Acalon, but there was new warmth in his terseness.

***

It wasn’t easy, getting everyone on Fenryx’s back. Acalon was careful to make sure that each person had a good grip on one of the bony spikes that followed the dragon's spine from neck to tail, and was seated with a safety rope around them. Tara could understand his caution. During flight, falling meant instant death.

Tara climbed after the others. She wasn’t sure if she could manage the rope even with the knots designed to provide foot and handholds. Surprisingly, it wasn’t as hard as she expected, although she did have to take her time. Her progress was slow but definite, and Acalon was waiting for her when she reached Fenryx’s bulky shoulder.

The dragon rider helped her the rest of the way. Tara sat behind one of the dangerous-looking spikes near Acalon’s usual place. Acalon was about to give her a rope like the others when Tara shook her head.

“No thanks,” she said. “I’m alright.”

The dragon rider’s dark brow rose, skeptically arch. “I believe you need it more than you think you do. Unless you have ridden a dragon before—in reality, not a dream.”

Tara wasn’t entirely willing, but she didn’t want to argue. She tied the rope around her waist, knotting the other end to the dragon’s spike.

“It really isn’t necessary,” she muttered under her breath.

Acalon’s humor flashed in his eyes. It was the first time, Tara realized, that he was truly, openly smiling. She would have given a lot to see more than a suggestion of that smile under his covering.

“Even so,” he said. “Here.”

The others had been given face coverings as well. Grudgingly, Tara tied the cloth around her face.

“Do I have to?”

“Most of us require it,” said Acalon. “Let’s find out, Hero of Allerion, what you are made of.”

Acalon took his own seat closest to the dragon’s neck. Fenryx was very patient as his passengers settled, but as soon as he felt that Acalon was ready the great dragon began to move, his massive body stretching and wings arching for flight.

Tara felt a thrill of wonder and amazement. She had seen Fenryx fly before, but it was an entirely different experience being on his back. The powerful dragon’s beating wings lifted them all easily off the ground, and Tara found herself clinging to the spike in front of her with all her strength.

The wind whipped and rushed past them. It was incredible, surging through the air on the massive dragon's back. Tara understood then why the face cloth was used. The wind whipped past them at a speed that would have certainly made breathing difficult without some kind of protection.

All the same, she couldn’t resist. None of her characters wore the covering in-game.

As soon as she pulled the cloth free, Tara regretted it. The wind’s strength whipped her breath away. She squeezed her eyes shut, clinging to the dragon. After a moment’s panic, she began to breathe easier, and risked opening her eyes again.

They had flown over the clouds. The familiar twin moons were blazing silver above them, and the clouds below were stirred by the rhythm of the dragon’s wings. Even with the moisture being forced from her eyes at the air current, Tara couldn’t close her eyes. It was too beautiful a sight, unlike anything she had known before.

Only the sight of the third moon, glowing sullen red, cast any kind of taint on an otherwise wonderful scene. Tara found herself watching that third moon, trying to understand it. It was less a moon than a shadow, gleaming with a kind of negative, dark light.

Tara didn’t know why, but it frightened her. She looked away but couldn’t escape the feeling, possibly imagined, that the third moon was watching her.