What a happy coincidence my reposting schedule lands on vore day. I hope this lives up to all your hopes for the day.

And with this the story comes to a close... I had thought I was cutting it in half, but turns out I was more, cutting off the first third ^^; either way, here is the continuation and conclusion of the little story following the young wisp Ral.


A Wisp Coming of Age: Part 2

The wisp Ral flicked his wings, short, controlled adjustments as he dived through the gauntlet on the lower section of the tree he knew as home. Largely it took the form of rings or barriers he had to avoid while manoeuvring through the route… the first section tended to be straight down in order to clear the floor it was attached to, before making a full ring of the tree. Sometimes he wondered if that meant the gauntlet got harder each generation, as the tree steadily if slowly grew…
Not that the question had much time to linger in his mind. The gauntlet wasn’t intended to be easy. His path broke into the circle of the tree, requiring he manage his height constantly, while evading the obstacles. He was told, when he would be expected to fly the adult course further down the tree, they would have living obstacles too… dragons to chase, and, any landbound predators that happened to be nearby, and wanted to try their luck for a mouthful of wisp. He hoped in equal measure that he survived to take that course, and that they were joking. If nothing else he found it hard to believe anything too dangerous would be allowed to get close to the tree.
Today, the arrangement of blockages was new to him, but he pushed his wings, knowing well, his mentor would expect him to get through it with little more delay than the course he had flown the day before. He hadn’t yet figured out the pattern to when they changed it, and they did so without warning. As his mentor would tell him. The course was intended to train his reactions and reflexes, not his memory. It was a huge world out there; branches could change because something big enough happened to land on them the day before. A wisp didn’t have the luxury of assuming the world they flew in the day before would look, act the same the next day. Such was his training.
Ral weaved around a barrier, sharp eyes already planning the next move as his wings grazed past it, diving to sweep below another, before needing hammer his wings to rise through a high ring. By the time his darting path had followed back to where he began, every muscle in his chest ached and his breathing set each on fire. Yet, as he arced his path through the last ring, and began to flutter more casually back up for the platform above, he got to enjoy the delicate thrill of running a new course without catching his wing on something. There were decidedly unpleasant memories lingering, of the first time he dived to find the course had changed. It had been the only time they warned him pre-emptively that it was a different course to the day before… but that hadn’t helped.
“Not bad” His mentor nodded to him, already back on the platform and awaiting. Not only did his mentor tend to fly, higher and hence closer to the platform but, his observation was without obstacles. A bitter part of Ral sometimes wished his mentor needed to fly such a gauntlet, while observing him, but he suspected while it would be good training for the older wisp, his own guidance would, diminish.
“New course” Ral observed after he had panted for a long moment “didn’t think you’d change it day before my test”
“I did argue against” the older wisp mused “but we don’t play favourites. Course changes when it changes”
“I see” Ral shrugged, it didn’t matter too much to him… he had the night to rest. Though the risk of clipping a wing the day before his test was sobering to think about “anyone else from here has their test tomorrow?”
“Plenty” His mentor mused “think you said there was another Green in your class even, Eld, right?”
Ral nodded quietly. Despite both attending ranger training, he didn’t really know the other greenwing. They lived on different floors and had different mentors despite sharing combat training. Eld was a good fighter, Ral considered, better than him even.
“Anyway” his mentor interjected “that’s you for the day… go have fun, just make sure you rest well, hmm? You’ve a good set of wings on you, would be a waste if they got digested to wisp stew so young… and give the old dragon my regards, hmm?” his mentor smiled slightly “had the same beast trying to swallow me for lunch when I was your age. Just remember, don’t overthink it. Your instincts are faster than your head. Get all your thinking done before you face him, you need to be quick, speed is your advantage, alright?”
“Thank you, sir” Ral bowed quickly, before turning as his mentor waved him off. Ral gazed up the tree with the abject dread of getting all the way back up. He was nervous of overworking his wings before such an important day, and with little particular planned for the remainder, he somewhat reluctantly started to walk, taking the long route.

Around the edge of the tree, rising in a helix from the lowest floor where the rangers lived, to the highest that housed the ruling dragons and their guard, was a pair of pathways, one on each side of the tree, opposite each other till the top few floors, where it reduced to just the one. Mostly the paths allowed transport of anything too heavy to conveniently fly up the tree, or, for those just wanting to take a slow walk with the view. Or in Ral’s case, wanting to work his legs rather than his aching wings.
The path was a lot longer than flying, though Ral didn’t mind the time to think. He honestly wasn’t sure how to avoid his teacher for any length of time… dragons were big, their necks and tails long, muscular and powerful. He’d have to focus on evading the dragon, he mused… and yet… He had been told a lot about dealing with wild dragons, often the advice was not to flee, but to fight. Hence the combat in the ring. The dragons were faster in the air, if not as agile. Perhaps, he supposed, he would be better at flying away. Green-wings flew alone a lot, scouting, and the point of the advice to stay near the dragon was based on the hope of rescue. If no rescue was coming, then being able to fly well, dodge through tight branches and gaps was his best hope… but there were none of those for his combat test. The more he thought about it, the more he wondered if he was at a disadvantage. Half of his training was for one strategy, and the other for an opposite strategy.
He sighed to himself, pausing to watch a dragon flying out of the floors above, gleaming in the light of sunset. For his test he had to stay close, use his agility to stay out of biting range, stay out of sight using the dragon’s own body, and strike… jab where he might be able to hurt, to discourage the beast… and yet, his teacher wouldn’t give up… not till the time was up, so.. was fighting at all worth it? A wild drake, he could maybe jab where its scales were soft till it decided his meat wasn’t worth the pain, or it worried his blades might find an eye, or something else vital, and flee to find more placid prey. But those wouldn’t work on his teacher… he wouldn’t want to actually harm the dragon either. He supposed the trade off was that the old dragon had to swallow them alive. A wild drake might try to crush them, snap their bones with its tail, or just bite them in two. Any method to stop them moving around. The idea made him shudder.
From outside the tree, as he rose to the residential region, he could just faintly smell the tinge of the yellow-wing workshop above. While it made Ral grimace slightly, it did make him wonder how Cit was doing. A yellow wisp, he understood, could bring any project they had worked on in their training. He’d heard of lots of chemical weapons the wisps had brought, or tricks they’d tried… but Cit had never seemed the prankster type… so he doubted the wisp would have any sort of harsh powders to throw on a dragon’s snout. He liked Cit. He hoped the wisp wouldn’t just be part of their teacher’s diet, come the next day.

The evening was gathering around when Ral wandered up to his floor. Wisps were aplenty, moving steadily to the centre of the residential floor… and he had every intention of following, soon. With a quickening pace he headed for home.
The home of his family rested between two others, huddled as most were against the surrounding walls. Not far away was the looming abode of one of the floor’s dragons. Forming the points of a perfect triangle, the three dragon homes rested on the floor, carved into the natural wood. A stairway ramp to a high plinth, with wooden panels up top for privacy… the dragon homes were more, open, to give them room and to account for their difficulty with doors. His home, like the rest bore an amber sheen given by the firm resin that composed the bulk of it, lathered on thick to hold the thin frame of wood together. They were glued to the walls and each other. He eased inside, to the warm thrum of youthful noise. The floor of their main room littered with the smaller forms of his young siblings. There were six, a fairly standard clutch of little motes. They all bore simple names like his own… though he’d come to like it. A lot of wisps took an adult name, assuming they lived long enough to become adults. The simple names of young wisps were a nod to inevitability. His clutch had been small, only four. But only he and his sister remained. He was sure she’d already headed to the communal area.
His mother looked to him, from her efforts to pry two of the motes apart, offering him a familiar gentle smile. Her wings bore green like his own, and while half of the young motes could say the same, the rest bore blue, red and silver.
“You’re back late”
“I walked” Ral explained, crouching to brush at one of his young sibling’s heads “I wanted to rest my wings”
“Yes, tomorrow is a big day isn’t it” his mother stood straight, rubbing her lower back. Ral could only wonder how long she’d been hunched down “Have plans for after the test?”
“Nothing special, was going to groom Pila for a while” Ral tried to hide his unease behind a smile. She always talked like his passing was certain… whether overconfidence or an attempt to nurse his own he wasn’t sure. In truth besides agreeing to see Pila quickly to confirm his survival, he had no plans… it had seemed like tempting fate to plan for after
His mother sighed, and nudged the young motes towards the door “you spend a lot of time with that dragoness…”
“We’re friends” Ral eased aside to let his siblings out the doorway “I’m her wisp”
“Ral, there are other dragons” she observed “you shouldn’t spend all your free time fawning over her”
“I enjoy being with her” Ral folded his arms
His mother petted his cheek with a knowing smile “Oh Ral, I know it’s easy to look to the first dragon you know and think, I’ll be theirs forever, I had a thing for this regal dragon who I knew as a mote, but it can all change in an instant. When I was assigned to Rivice as his ranger companion, it all changed. I can’t see myself being any dragon’s but his now” she ruffled at his hair when he grunted as reply “just don’t make promises, ok? You never know what life will bring. You’re too young to be deciding which dragon you want to carry you”
“Ok, ok” Ral murmured to placate her attention… though his sense of certainty remained untarnished. Of course his dragoness would be Pila…
He helped to nudge his mote siblings along, shepherding them with his mother towards the middle of the residential floor, the smell of food alluring after his day. Flanks of beasts larger than he was cooked on the wide grill, huge berries the size of his head cut and portioned as the floor gathered to eat together.
Indeed, he saw his sister, wings a bright blue. Bluewings were rare on their floor. Which, he supposed, did allow his sister a luxury he lacked. She knew her father… or was pretty sure. Of the four males his mother frequented, only one was bluewinged. Two were green like her, another was a redwing. In theory his father could be any of them, seeing he could have inherited his hue from her. The one she had considered her, primary mate, who had lived with the family had been lost to a wild drake a while back. Ral had tended to assume that one was his father. Not that it mattered to much, he cared for all the adults who raised him.
Once he felt sure his younger siblings had locked onto the food, and needed only mild overseeing, he tended to himself. A plate of polished wood, with a fine piece of roasted mouse and a sharp slice of citric yellow were his first course, which he carried to sit by his sister.
She gave him a glance, continuing to eat.
“Evening Aza” Ral greeted, sitting himself heavily, a flick of his wings in greeting, which she responded with.
“You look exhausted” Aza commented
“And you look ravenous for a wisp who spent her day reading books, not flying around blocks of wood”
“Don’t you know that the brain consumes more energy than anything?” she responded with a brief grin, that quickly vanished behind a forkful of food
Ral shook his head with a twitch of a smile, before letting himself eat… the food always tasted better after he had flown “confident about tomorrow?”
Aza paused in her eating, to chew for a few seconds, an uncharacteristically long time that betrayed her mood.
“are you?” she asked in turn, though the question hung with a rhetorical weight
“Fair enough” Ral conceded
“spent the last week reading up on the last few tests my teacher led” Aza finally continued “I think I’ve got a pretty good idea of her normal behaviour. She tends to start the same way, same pattern of approaches… I’m hoping if I play on that I can trip her up, keep one step ahead” Aza twirled her fork “feels pretty pointless, I’m exploiting the nature of the test, the fact that she is new and hasn’t learnt to mix up her strategy… she is so focussed on the test and giving us all a fair shot, she’ll be predictable…”
“One could say that you’d pass by seeing a pattern others would not, and finding a way to exploit your situation” Ral reasoned “it’s not like you’re likely to be flying out into the wilds unaccompanied anyway… you don’t need to be able to, deal with completely unplanned situations”
“Perhaps” Aza rolled a shoulder “I’m just frustrated. That I need to risk my life so early for the sake of a scenario I’ll never need to face” she grunted “and I know why… it’s about maintaining a standard, so if I happen to have any young greenwings, say, one day, which is likely, then they’ll have the best chance of being strong and agile enough to evade a dragon’s jaws… but it still frustrates me, even if I do understand it”
Ral ate quietly and let his sister talk. He wouldn’t begrudge any wisp needing to vent a little, tonight… well, any wisp who had their test the next day…
“You’ll do fine, I’m not so sure about me”
Aza shook her head, tapping her fork to her plate “you’re agile, graceful, I’ve seen you fly, Ral. You’re good”
“If it was a flying test, I’d be confident” Ral frowned slightly at his food “But taking wing is the last thing I should do tomorrow”
“True” Aza noted, looking off as the rest of their family stumbled over to join them at their table. Their talk came to a close, to not bring the dark topic up around their mother, and as the young motes needed help to attend. Even when the fathers of the family stopped in to help, Ral already felt too tired to keep talking. The energy just seemed to flee him. Stress maybe, he wondered. In the end, he headed back to the house early, to find a soft spot for himself in the bedchamber. Curling up in the corner. He was lucky to doze off quickly, before the hubbub of his siblings could keep him up, the family gathering in a wing-laden huddle in the softer room.

Ral stretched in the light of the morning sun. The angle casting its light deep into the combat floor, across the three marked rings where the tests were running today. He was taking a long moment, to fix the amount of space in his mind. It wasn’t small, all things considered. There was room aplenty to move and dash. Though he had to stay inside it. It would look smaller with a dragon in the middle of it.
“Morning” Bie spoke from behind him, and Ral looked to her with a forced smile, nodding in greeting. Although, his curiosity rested on the pole she had in her hand. It had the gleam of metal, seemed nearly as tall as she was
“So, your project”
“Yep” she made a show of spinning the staff and balancing it on her palm “took time to get it right… has a secret but, I’ll be keeping that one to myself. My plan requires a bit of surprise, can’t have our teacher overhearing it”
“Fair enough” Ral couldn’t see anything particularly interesting about the unorthodox weapon, though he supposed maybe that was the point “Hope you know how to wield that”
“I’ve been practicing” Bie shrugged
A thump through the wood paused their conversation, eyes moving to the landing of their teacher on the far side of the ring. Wisps of their class were, gathering near them. Nervous huddles talking, preparing.
“Oh, hey Cit” Bie observed cheerfully, calling Ral’s attention off the settling dragon.
Cit seemed, about his usual, nothing obvious that he’d brought… though a tremble was running the yellow-wing.
“You need to calm down” Ral observed
“I know” a sickly little smile curled his lips “you two confident?”
“About normal” Ral offered vaguely. In truth he wasn’t sure how to feel
“Pretty confident” Bie answered optimistically “going to keep him running around and, if I get in trouble… plan B”
Cit took a moment to look up and down the metal staff “oh… I think I pretty much just have my plan B… but I guess I’ll be trying to not use it for as long as possible”
“Guessing you’re keeping it hush too?” Ral mused
“Works better that way” Cit’s hands met to fidget together before himself “do you know what order we’ll be in?”
“If I recall…” Bie noted “we volunteer. If two want the same turn, the one with the better duelling scores gets to take the spot… if nobody volunteers, the lowest scored goes first”
Cit nodded, though his eyes drew to their teacher “I know mine are bad… but I want to go as close to last as possible”
“Pretty common wish” Bie observed ruefully “Morbid as it can be, by the end of the session, he’s likely to be a bit tired… and may be a bit, heavier in the belly. It’s easier, in theory. Although, he’ll also be back into full predator mindset by then too. There’s a tactic to getting him at the start when he’s rusty… and maybe acting a little more impulsively from hunger”
Ral clicked his tongue “preferably I’d be near the end too but… if it comes down to it, I’ll let you take it, Cit”
“Me too” Bie smiled slightly “I may volunteer near the start anyway. My plan doesn’t work better or worse at any slot so, I’d like to get it over with” she shrugged “in the off chance I fail, I’d rather go down early, not be shoved head first into half-digested wisp”
Ral grimaced “eww”
“Risks of going last” Bie smirked “an empty, hungry belly is the nicer way to go, I’d think, even if the later end is… probably faster”
“I’d rather not think about that” Ral murmured, looking back to their teacher as the dragon cleared his throat. A familiar flick of the wings was their signal to line up like they did every class. In order of their duelling scores. Ral parted ways with the others… all in all, he scored fourth. Rist was first of course… followed by the class’s other greenwing, Eld. The third spot was, oddly enough, a greywing. The unlikeliest of wisps… though Ral had heard her mother was a purplewing and trained her herself.
“Morning class” their teacher spoke, padding his way towards the centre of the ring “I’m proud to see all of you here, for this test of your skill… would be that all of you would pass. I wish you all well… however” he snorted for emphasis “I have fasted, for three days to be ready. I am hungry, wild, and eager to sate it. Like any creature you meet out there with an appetite for wisp… you must survive me, for two minutes, until rescue can arrive. In that time, you must avoid being swallowed, or I’m afraid you will be acquiring your second life early”
Ral tried not to grimace, he felt so unready… but then was he ever ready for this? He did want to be a ranger… what better training was there than this. To the sides, he could see other wisps, other dragons, gathering to observe. There was a wisp who had been, infrequent teaching assistant to them, who was likely doing the counting today. His whole life came down to this test… no pressure.
“Is there a brave young wisp who will volunteer to be the first to face their future?”
Ral looked up and down the line… it was an uneasy silence, before he saw Bie step forward from her place down the line. He was realising now, the only thing worse than facing the dragon early, was having to watch his friends do it…
“Well… our confident redwing” the dragon rumbled, stretching his wings, as he sat back to his haunches “I hope not overconfident, young Bie… enter”
Bie moved into the ring, hands shifting on her staff. The twin daggers they all wore, sat in her spot beside the ring. She was unarmed but for the, strange weapon she had presumably made herself.
A bell echoed from the assistant by the ring, and, the first strike was so fast. In all his time, Ral had, never seen a dragon truly try to catch a wisp.
Hind legs solid with muscle kicked, taloned forepaws and spreading jaws descending on the, small shape of Bie. A shocked eep of sound escaped her, but she managed to stagger back, and to the side, clutching her staff to her. That first pounce, Ral felt was a terrifying thing… he was glad beyond all words he hadn’t been first… just seeing his teacher that way was unseating his thoughts. He felt frozen with the shock of it. Even after that pounce it wasn’t over. Their teacher turned in mere moments, a second spring after his fleeing meal. Bie looked so small, so uncertain now. She dodged the wrong way, and a sweeping paw struck across her. She flew like a doll, shoulder hitting the wooden floor before she rolled twice.
Ral could feel his own heartbeat as their teacher padded over to the strewn wisp, as his jaws parted and lowered down. It was, almost gently that he scooped up Bie as she struggled to stand. The bright red of her scales and wings disappearing behind his scales as she lips closed behind her. Ral shivered… how many, seconds had it been…
A swallow didn’t follow, the head of the dragon shook suddenly, an unnatural twang of sound before the teeth wrenched open, a choked growl in the parted jaws. Bie came into view, hair matted in wet tangles against her face, cheek pressed to her staff, hugging around it for dear life. It looked longer now, tip wedged into the palate and tongue of their teacher.
Jaws strong enough to splinter bone clenched, a whining creak of sound as the staff seemed to shrink, for a long moment, before the pressure eased and it snapped back into place with a twang. Bie seemed to crouch, fumbling at the end at the tongue, pushing to keep her staff in place as the muscle below wormed. She kicked the tip of his tongue as it tried to curl around her, her weapon. The struggle seemed to last forever… but then, Bie jumped out past the teeth, fluttering to soften her landing, looking back. The staff, seemed to slip, before the jaws sealed again, a low snort as their teacher shook his head again. He visibly winced, a cough echoing past the teeth. Then his head turned, and the long pole was spat to roll and slide along the ground away from him.
Bie looked, more ready this time. When the dragon pounced, she was running, around him on the opposite side from her staff… lucky, or planned it seemed the right call, as his hips, on landing pivoted to swipe his thick tail over the spot the staff had fallen. Bie dived under the next bite, wings beating against belly plates to throw herself from under the dragon. By the time his head turned, she was pouncing on her staff, taking the slimy metal back into her hands with a death grip. She was panting, as she levelled it at the muzzle aimed her way, a grimace, if a determined one on her face.
A bell rang from the side-lines… and the teacher’s stance softened in a moment, though Bie remained tense and ready for a fair few moments longer. Their teacher raised a paw to his throat, rolling his claws to the scales with a cough “you bruised the back of my throat with that… springs?”
Bie nodded slowly “spring-loaded…”
“Heard of an instructor losing a tooth to something like that once… I’ll count myself lucky… well done”
Bie nodded mutely, and staggered to the side of the ring, collapsing to her backside, and laying the staff before herself, staring at her weapon, before seemingly trying to reset the springs.
“Any volunteers for next?” Their teacher noted. Ral felt his senses coming back.. that, was just the first, and not even his own turn yet. His dread was only multiplying.
In the corner of his eye, Ral saw Rist step forward. So, the brownwing has wanted to see someone else go first. Ral couldn’t deny the wisdom in that… deep down he was starting to feel that, more than a test of skill, this coming of age was, about understanding what dragons could be… what the wild dragons would be like. He’d known dragons all his life, they were big, a little intimidating, but easy enough to handle with some petting and scratching, they could be doofy or graceful… they were wonderful… but, that visage of savage hunger… that was part of them too. Just a side they were fortunate to be spared.
The Brownwing stepped into position, their teacher facing him. The stance Rist took was one Ral knew well. The blades were drawn, posture ready for a duel. Ral heard the greywing to his side sigh, and shot her a look, noting how she shook her head.
His eyes snapped back, as a bell noted the new round was beginning. Their teacher surged forward, but Rist held his ground, using his strength to bring both blades down on the approaching muzzle. Their teacher halted his advance, though a little too late, his chin being smacked to the wooden floor by the strike, not that the dragon looked injured. The dragon stepped back, as Rist followed through, advancing with elegant strikes. The head just, couldn’t seem to draw back fast enough, Ral observed… something felt off about that, surely the dragon could avoid a blow… but Rist seemed to be in control. Each strike batting the muzzle of the dragon in one direction or another, if only slightly. Their teacher’s stance had changed though, Ral noticed. The dragon had turned to his side, while backing away. Rist swung for a new blow, and the muzzle wasn’t there. So fast by comparison to the previous retreat, the muzzle swung back and away. Rist missed his footing, his blow swung, seemingly with the expectation of impact. The tail of the dragon was already in motion. Their teacher’s legs held firm, swinging his hind to bring the tail sweeping, to strike Rist between the wings while he was off his balance.
The head that had retreated, parted to show the innards of the maw before lunging back to its spot, in time for Rist to be thrown off his feet into the damp abyss. The teeth clicked with finality. The arena was silent, only broken by a slight leathery creak of dragon scales against hide as the muzzle rose and their teacher sat. The snout tossed up, and the neck weaved. A soft, wet pulse of sound, heavy around a mouthful as their teacher swallowed. A flicker of movement showed under the thinner hide of the throat, small deformations, hidden as the head lowered again. Still, from his position, Ral could see as the slight shape merged to the scaly chest. Their teacher turned his muzzle, tongue seeming to work to his jaw, before he spat a soaked wooden blade towards the side of the arena, where slick as it was, it spin and skittered to a stop not far from Bie.
“Volunteers for next?”
Ral felt his heart sink to his stomach… seeing Rist, sink to a stomach of his own. Rist had been so skilled… and yet, just like that.
“fool” The greywing beside him exhaled, her wings flicking. Ral looked her way, and she met his gaze, raising an eyebrow “you do see, don’t you?”
Ral shook his head quietly.
“He was overconfident” she explained with a sharp shake of her wings “he forget he wasn’t fighting a wisp… sure he was excellent at that, and a lot of the skills are transferable… but he was too used to being the strong one… a dragon is always the strong one… whoever was coaching him outside of these lessons wasn’t doing a good job…”
“Easy for you to say” Ral murmured
“I suppose” she shrugged a shoulder “teacher warned him enough times though, I know that much”
The next round began, and Ral watched with a certain dread… that did ease slightly with time. A lot of the students took their turns, only one more failed, not that the day was over. He got to see the greywing fight. She did well, he felt. She had fought so differently from Rist, agile, retreating, the teacher had been chasing her, and in that Ral felt he saw what she meant. For one thing, their teacher hadn’t had any opportunity to use his heavy tail… he needed the right footing for that.
He had almost been managing to relax and, enjoy the display of skill… till their teacher asked for a volunteer, and was met with silence.
“No one?” their teacher asked again, sat to his haunches and panting softly from the exertion of the day “If I don’t have a volunteer, we shall begin in reverse order of your duelling scores”
The reminder of the rules struck Ral… he had almost forgotten… Cit. A glance down the diminishing line of wisps showed him Cit at the far end. His friend was trembling. If he didn’t do anything, Cit would be called… He grimaced… did that mean, he had to volunteer… or, wait and improve his own chances… would Cit forgive him… would Cit even expect that of him… He had said, he’d let Cit go later than him. If Cit got eaten and he hadn’t taken the yellow-wing’s spot… would Bie hold it against him… Ral really didn’t want to go… he didn’t want to face the teacher at all though… and he’d have to so, why not? That argument seemed so sensible, but he struggled to step forward. Yet, he had to, didn’t he? He grasped for his courage.
“I’d duel you, dragon” a voice Ral didn’t know called from the edge of the ring, most eyes seeking it, their teacher included. Just inside the ring, the air seemed to shimmer, the shimmer turning into a wingbeat, before into view, appeared a small, wisp figure, the wings that folded, ebony black.
A darkwing, Ral couldn’t help but stare… he’d never seen one, only heard of them, and normally not favourably either…
The darkwing folded his wings, offering a low bow to the watching dragon, before taking another step into the ring
“You are no student of mine, darkwing” their teacher finally answered
“I am student of no dragon” the darkwing observed “and yet it is my time to come of age. I would fight for that title, as do the others”
Their teacher snorted “is that so? I could eat you, you know”
“I invite you to try… for, two, three minutes isn’t it?” he glanced to the wisp with the bell “I was never told the specifics… had I come to be trained when these wisps did, I’d probably have been eaten then, no?”
“Perhaps” their teacher rumbled faintly “depends on the teacher, your kind do not have a fond reputation”
The darkwing drew his blades, wooden like the other young wisps, flickering his wings as he pointed them at the dragon “all I want is a fair chance to earn what you would offer to the other wisps, nothing more”
“Very well” their teacher turned his bulk, facing the wisp that looked, so small “I have never sampled darkwing”
The bell rang, and in an instant the darkwing was, gone… vanished. Their teacher padded quickly to where it had been, taking a swipe through the air, but seemingly finding nothing. He snorted “and how, little darkwing, are we to be sure you are not breaking the rules and are within the ring…?”
The dragon suddenly hissed, looking down his flank, thick tail swiping to the ground. The darkwing was visible for a moment, leaping free of the tail “you’ll feel me” the visage disappeared just a moment later.
The dragon snorted, tail flicking, looking around himself, strangely still despite the challenge. Slowly he padded a few steps, then flared his wings. A cry echoing in the air before a thud, the darkwing visible on the ground, before rolling and disappearing as forepaws and talons slammed to the ground where he had been “do not think my other senses are so weak you can trick me, darkwing. I do not need to see you, to find you”
Their teacher stood, looking around again, rumbling faintly “you may have thought this would be easy… for one such as you, but I am an experienced dragon…”
The dragon suddenly let his legs fold, flopping for the ground. A cry called, but was muffled, as the belly hit the ground. The beast glanced down his flanks “predictable…”
The body rose, the dragon peering under himself with a hum… no wisp to see. He inhaled, lifting his muzzle, padding away, and pawing to the ground “I’ll admit, I am impressed at your willpower to remain invisible…”
The dragon’s ear twitched, a rumble, before his tail swept. The darkwing reappearing in a leap away from the long tail.
Closer to them, Ral finally got a better look at the darkwing… it looked, just like any wisp, but for the hue of the wings… and yet, he couldn’t do that… he could make his wings invisible if he focussed on it, even wrap them around himself to hide behind them while they were so, unseen… but because of that he couldn’t both move and be unseen. Darkwings were scary…
The dark wisp panted for a moment, before disappearing from sight again as the teacher rushed the spot. Talons raked, paws swiped… Ral found this, more frightening than any of the other displays… the teacher had been gentle with the others, his goal to swallow them. But if he couldn’t see the wisp, he had to incapacitate it, it seemed…
The dragon inhaled again, rumbling, and turning his head, seeming to track something “in case you live, darkwing, and I do not get the opportunity to correct your behaviour… it was crafty, to smother your scent as you have… but you paid little heed to where you were going. I’d never track your scent in a forest like this… but your new scent stands out in this arena… you have made it easier to track you, not harder…”
The dragon pounced, forepaws slamming to one spot, triumphantly… although, he snorted discontentedly, lifting a paw to sniff, drawing his muzzle back with a grimace. The head jolted down suddenly, before the darkwing appeared on the muzzle, one hand grasping a horn, the other aiming a blade at the eye of the dragon, the tip hovering so close to the wide globe.
“Yield” the wisp shouted into the stunned silence.
The dragon rumbled slowly “you deal with a hungry dragon, little wisp”
“It would be a foolish dragon who sacrificed an eye”
The teacher rumbled again “desperation is a powerful force… trade an eye, for a meal, or rather the chance of one. A chance diminished by the loss of the eye, and all future chances equally diminished. A dragon ravenous enough to lose an eye to eat? Surely such a dragon is so unskilled it needs the eye more than most. Such a dragon would live longer with the meal but be doomed thereafter perhaps?” the dragon shook his head, but gently and with a weak rumble “I yield, little wisp…”
The darkwing leapt from the muzzle, as he slipped away his blade, turning to bow to the seated dragon before disappearing again.
“I want to know, before you go, wisp” the teacher reflected aloud “I mentioned your scent… was I wrong? The scent clung to my paw so noxiously, was it all to allow you that diversion?”
“If I’m honest” the wisp’s voice called from… somewhere on the other end of the ring “I thought of that in the moment, instant you mentioned it”
Their teacher shook his head “good instincts… seems my ploy of using talk, to stir observable reactions from you backfired then… good to know” He yawned, shaking his head “well now class… since that diversion is over…”
Ral felt the weight of the moment resume, and glanced down the line… nobody, seemed more willing than they were so, reluctantly he stepped forward, and had the immense pressure of his teacher’s gaze focus on him. He watched the eyes narrow, honed upon him. He felt so small. He drew his blades as a surge of… something he couldn’t explain and hadn’t truly felt before, surge into his belly…
The bell was distant and yet distinct, more important was the way the muscles in his teacher flexed to power the mighty shape of dragon in his direction. Ral drew his blades, and yet felt he didn’t need them. His eyes were more vital weapons. The way his teacher moved, he’d seen it before… not just today, but in all dragons. His teacher was powerful, faster than he used to believe, and yet…
Ral leapt to the side, a puff of his wings to drive some momentum into his legs and nothing more… they were cumbersome and would only slow him down, he realised. His teacher couldn’t turn very quickly. Not on the ground… he turned fastest on his haunches, exactly the pose he’d be in if Ral took wing. The young wisp darted around the charge of the dragon, weaving towards the predator as his teacher turned… those big wings, they were cumbersome on his teacher too. He darted under the dragon’s body before the head could follow round, running out the other side and near the tail… His mind was calculating even though he wasn’t thinking… angles. If his teacher’s front was turning after him, the tail… would be this way. Ral dived under the sweeping appendage, allowing himself a moment to breathe and look back. The dragon’s confusion was only brief… his teacher was experienced. One glance to see the wisp wasn’t where he expected, and he had deduced where Ral was. But the dragon didn’t turn quickly. Ral’s heart skipped a beat… surely then, his teacher would sit, to turn faster. He saw the forepaws rising, as the hinds turned. He’d seen Pila do that so many times. Ral backed away, only looking down to make sure he stayed in the ring. His teacher didn’t have the reach like this. He wasn’t losing. The excitement of that thought was encouraging… and yet he questioned his latest move… his teacher could see him plainly. The dragon dropped down to his paws again and loped towards him. The gait was slower… it made sense to Ral. The initial charge hadn’t worked to overwhelm him. Now the dragon was being careful. Yet, something the darkwing had done gave him an idea. His teacher was advancing on him so, steadily, wings half out and hanging low to block Ral against the edge. Ral glanced to his blades… only useful to sting the dragon really, distractions, or mild deterrents. He could make one of them do just that. He hoped all his training aiming his body through hoops would help, as he swung his arm, and tossed one spinning blade towards his teacher’s face, his piercing eyes. The head rose, the eyes closed, and Ral bolted. The forepaws scrabbled at the ground, blind but sweeping, expecting Ral’s move but, Ral ran to the side, under the cover of a wing, making a sweep with his remaining blade up at the membrane… the wooden edge harmless but to sting, right where his teacher would feel it most. He heard a rebuking hiss, and hoping it was enough of a distraction, he ran beneath his teacher’s arching body once more, diving beneath a belly that emitted gentle, ominous gurgles. It was almost enough to cut through the adrenaline… though only served to motivate him.
Much to Ral’s relief, his teacher fell for the same trick, head looking first where his wing had been struck, before eying where Ral had run. Yet, Ral could feel himself flagging. An ache was growing that was hard to ignore, energized or not. He had been doing a lot of running. Though his wings felt fine… His teacher turned, practically in a jump, snorting through both nostrils as he advanced on Ral again, faster, head low, jaws already beginning to spread for a bite. He must not be able to see though, Ral reflected… not that it was comforting, if he leapt to either side, he’d be chased again. Still, Ral was feeling bold, encouraged. He had a blade left. He flicked his wings… if his teacher couldn’t see him… He waited, with wings flared, keeping his blade held tight. As the jaws grew close, he jumped, beating to rise over the gaping jaws, hands thrusting the blade forward, between two of the deadly teeth. Unable to clear the muzzle, he had to cling to the jabbing snout as a low whine of sound escaped it, the head recoiling like the dragon had been stung. One large forepaw batting Ral off and to the ground, while the other raked its claws between the teeth of the dragon, till a shake of the head dislodged the offending weapon.
Distantly, Ral heard a low ding. A bell… no, the bell. The forepaws of his teacher thumped to the ground either side of him, the muzzle lowering with a low exhale.
“Well done Ral, you pass… retrieve your blades and go sit with the others… nice use of your limited weaponry, effective if unorthodox, and good use of your breed’s natural speed”
“Thank you, teacher” Ral murmured, nodding before scrabbling from the looming muzzle. Still… he collected his blades less quickly… his legs were starting to ache more intently.
A few moments later Ral was sitting down beside Bie, who offered him a cheery smile.
“That was terrifying” Ral murmured
“You did good, told you so” Bie smirked “I’ve never seen you run like that”
Ral chuckled slightly, unsure why even to himself… giddy perhaps “I’m starting to think my training grounds are on the bottom floor for another reason… they wear out my wings… and I have to train my legs coming back up…”
“Sneaky” Bie nodded “speaking of sneaky… ever seen that darkwing before?”
“Never seen one till today”
Bie nodded slowly, rubbing her chin “I didn’t think I had but… you know, having seen him, I’m starting to think I might have spotted him watching our class before… I guess darkwings want to learn too, huh? I don’t really get why they are so taboo… just because they can go invisible like that… I think it’s interesting”
“I suppose” Ral shrugged “got to be a reason, right?”
Bie made a neutral hum as reply, looking back to the test. The teacher had repositioned himself, looking along the line. Ral’s heart sank a little to see Cit being called forward. He’d bought his friend one round… but nothing more.
The yellow-wing looked nervous… rightly so of course. He barely moved when the bell rang, and their teacher advanced… though, the approach seemed slower, more cautious? Ral wondered why, though, maybe it was because he didn’t know what tricks Cit had brought… with a greenwing, there were no tricks, only speed and strength. Yellow-wings though, they were alchemists.
Suddenly Cit was running, to the side, along the edge of the ring, forcing the teacher to pursue, though faster. Cit paused to throw something, something their teacher did stop to avoid… a small tinkle of breaking glass. Ral didn’t see anything though, was it a bluff? Cit had made a little distance with it though. Their teacher was soon chasing again, faster this time. Suddenly the dragon changed course, to intercept the wisp, forcing Cit to stagger and stop himself. The tail of the dragon swept past Cit, then back, smacking the wisp across the chest… no, the hip. Ral peered with some shock, noting Cit’s hip bag flicked halfway across the arena. So that was it.
Cit rolled twice onto his belly, starting to crawl towards his thrown bag, but not their teacher was bolder. In three bounding steps his shadow loomed over Cit, the jaws dropping. In an instant, Cit was scooped up around the middle, tossed high, and left to squeal, flailing his way through the air back into the waiting jaws that shut with a sharp snap. Ral’s heart sank as the head drew level, their teacher exhaling slowly. The underjaw undulated as the tongue moved to guide the morsel of food back. But then it stopped. The muzzle of their teacher wrinkled, disgust before his head dropped suddenly, spitting Cit to the ground with a hacking cough. The dragon rose his head, paw lifting to rub his tongue against the scales, shaking his head with a snort.
“Eugh… so that is your ploy, Cit…” their teacher huffed “you yellow-wings always want to go last… counting on a partly sated dragon not being hungry enough to endure your flavour, hmm?”
Cit was shaking his wings of saliva, shuddering as he clambered to his feet, half running, half falling for his bag. The dragon advanced again though, snorting “I’ll choke you down even if I don’t enjoy it, Cit”
The yellow-wing fumbled in the bag, bringing out something else that he held in his trembling hand. Their teacher hesitated, though Cit suddenly threw it… though not at the muzzle, which rose to avoid it, but at the ground before the dragon. A fine dust exploding into the air. Their teacher’s panting, laboured breaths drawing it in. A grimace took the muzzle, before their teacher backed away with a hacking cough, shaking his head “get out of my arena… blasted yellow-wing…”
Cit nodded and scrabbled quickly away. Their teacher looking to the class while pawing his muzzle “excuse me a moment, I need to go find some water to dip my face in…”
The dragon turned, padding away with haste, while Cit, slimy as he was, settled down beside Ral, still trembling.
“What was that?” Bie mused thoughtfully
“Just a mild irritant” Cit answered slowly “I make it from crushing up these, hairs in flower pods… meant to itch anything that tries to eat them. Make it fine and it turns into a very light powder… I was hoping he’d be breathing heavily, otherwise it wouldn’t work… he could just hold his breath. His throat and nose and… possibly his eyes too will be itching soon. I guess he knows that though… it’s a pretty common thing we’re taught”
Ral smiled to himself… relief washing over him… he still had some classmates at risk but, his friends had made it, he had made it “you had me worried there, Cit”
“I had me worried” Cit smiled weakly, before looking over his bag with a sigh “he tore it… I’ll need a new one…”
Ral petted Cit’s head, despite the lingering ooze… nothing could bring him down today… he couldn’t wait to tell Pila… though maybe he should wait… till after he had his metal adult blades to show off.