remember still spending a good few days polishing saddle straps as punishment.”
Roric laughed.
Tauran had forgotten how much he’d missed their banter, despite the pain in his chest those memories triggered.
“Catria has taken the new sky recruits up to the plateau for a practical training lesson,” Roric said, absently tugging each metal clasp of his harness. Tauran’s gaze lingered on the clasps. The tugging was a subconscious action. Drilled into every recruit for months and months before they were even allowed to sit on a dragon’s back. Always check your harness before every single flight. Even if you checked it just minutes ago. “I was thinking of heading up there and lending a hand. Why don’t you come with?”
“Sure,” Tauran said, before he had the chance to let his cowardly tendencies decide. He tried telling himself he had nothing to prove, but didn’t quite succeed. Roric. Catria. Emilian. Falka. They’d all seen him ruined and broken and trembling in terror. They’d all moved on. Only Tauran hadn’t. But his success in the archive stoked his bravery. “I just need to see Falka before heading home.”
“That’s not a problem. He should be in his office all day.”
Valeron curved his long neck around to greet them. Roric scratched the dragon’s nose, then walked around to mount up, placing one foot in the stirrup and settling in the gap in front of Valeron’s wings. Valeron cooed with quiet contentment. The two of them had been a team for several months before Tauran had even flown for the first time.
“Need a lift?” Roric asked and offered Tauran a hand.
Heat rushed through Tauran’s body and he took a step back. “That’s all right. I’ll borrow a horse.”
“Are you sure? If we fly, it’ll only be a minute to the top.”
“I’m sure.” Tauran took another step back and dug his hands into his pockets.
“All right, then. I’ll see you up there.” Roric clipped the main strap at the front of his harness into place and tugged it, not caring with the secondary safety clasps. With a nudge of his heel, he turned Valeron around.
Tauran stepped out of range of the dragon’s sweeping tail as it bent its legs and pushed off, folding its wings underneath itself to gain height. It could take a year or more for dragons to grow strong enough to take off from a standstill. A remarkable display of strength.
As Tauran headed for the stables, ignoring the curious glances cast his way, it struck him just how distant the Landa brothers had grown from each other. Tauran had always been close with Roric, the two of them sharing a similar temperament. Despite Valeron’s lighter body, Roric had followed Tauran enthusiastically into any storm. They’d been fearless. Too fearless. Cocky youth would do that, but it hardly seemed like Roric had changed.
Emilian, on the other hand, despite only having a year and a half on Roric, had always been considerably more tempered and thoughtful. His dragon, Kalesta, had been much the same. She had required a gentle hand. In turn, Emilian had made her an artist in the air, no other team as comfortable and seasoned on the treacherous, shifting east currents. Tauran had known Emilian as a kind and optimistic soul, the two brothers often discussing the day’s flight over drinks in each other's quarters late into the evening.
But Tauran knew all too well how the death of a dragon could turn a heart cold and empty. Even then, Emilian had been stronger than Tauran, staying with the ground guard when Tauran couldn’t even bear to stay in the city. The Battle of the Broken Wings had ruined something in Emilian, and with it, the closeness he once had with his brother. At least the battle hadn’t added Roric or Valeron to the list of dead and damaged. For that, Tauran was thankful.
CHAPTER 8
To get to the Sky Plateau, Tauran had to leave the city through the northern gate and follow the road up the cliffs. On his left, the vast expanse of Lake Virastos glittered in the sunlight. On his right, the plateau’s vertical drop had once set the scene for Tauran’s Leap of Faith, the one act that would officially turn sky recruits into real riders. If they survived.
Despite the cliffs closing in on both sides, shielding Tauran from the view of the drop, simply feeling the colder bursts of wind near the top sparked his nerves. He tugged the reins, keeping his mount in the center of the man-made path.