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tension between him and the elves from Aravell – all but Vaeril, who was almost the opposite. His attitude towards Therin stopped just short of reverence. Calen had no idea what to make of it all.

Calen propped himself up on his elbows. He blew the air from his lungs up over his face in exhaustion and let the sweat roll down his forehead. Erik hunched down beside him in much the same state.

“That was good,” he panted, resting his elbows on his knees. “Sorry about the nose. Just try not to over-extend yourself. Gaeleron seems to be warming to you, at least. He’s a bit stiff, isn’t he?”

Gaeleron raised an eyebrow.

“I think he may have heard you,” Calen whispered, ignoring the pain that throbbed in his nose as he tried to laugh.

“Ah, he’s fine. Good lesson, Gaeleron!” Erik gave Calen a cheeky wink as he stood up from his haunches. “I’m going to get some water. Want some?”

“Please.”

Just as Erik walked away, Calen felt something stir in the back of his mind. He turned his head to see Valerys stand up from where he had spent most of the afternoon bathing in the sun. Calen wasn’t sure if it was because Arthur had been letting him take his pick of whatever goats or sheep he wanted each day, or if it was just the way dragons grew, but Valerys had nearly doubled in size in the last few weeks.

He was easily the size of Faenir; at least seven feet from snout to tail. His jaw had widened, his snout had elongated, and his chest was deeper. The ridges of horns that framed his neck and face were longer and sharper. His neck was thicker, more muscular, and the frills that ran the length of his body were more pronounced. Where his forelimbs had once been weak and spindly compared to his hind legs, they had grown strong and powerful. As Calen watched Valerys approach, his white scales glistening in the sun, he couldn’t help but stare in awe. He was still a far cry from the dragons of legend, but he was no longer the vulnerable creature that had crawled from that egg.

Valerys’s pale lavender eyes drew level with Calen’s as the dragon stopped in front of him. Warmth flooded the back of Calen’s mind, a conscious recognition. Comfort. Calen closed his eyes and placed his hands either side of Valerys’s head, touching his forehead against the tip of the dragon’s snout.

“Draleid n’aldryr,” Calen whispered. He wasn’t sure why he said it, the words had touched his tongue without ever passing his mind; but they felt right. Dragonbound by fire. He felt an acknowledgement from Valerys, a mix of emotions and colours that somehow mimicked the words. Then there was something else – a longing. For something that Calen didn’t recognise. But then he felt a sudden flash in the back of his mind – he understood. Calen opened his eyes. “Go.”

Without waiting for another word, Valerys shook his body from side to side as if throwing off imaginary chains that held him down. The frills on the back of his neck stood on end as he moved forward, towards the walls of the inner circle that looked out over the city below. Calen felt it as if it were his own – the urge, the need.

Valerys spread out his wings. If he had doubled in size, they had grown even more so. They were as white as the purest snow, with veins of black that streaked from Valerys’s forelimbs, giving them shape.

There was a thump as Valerys cracked his wings against the air. A gust of wind swept across the courtyard. The need that Calen felt at the back of his mind only grew stronger. It burned through him, as it did Valerys. Another thump carried Valerys forward, lifting him off the ground. Calen felt his feet moving, following Valerys as his wingbeats carried him higher – towards the walls. Thump. Valerys’s powerful wings lifted him into the air.

Gasps of shock came from the precisely one hundred armoured men who stood guard along the outer rim of the courtyard. Arthur had insisted upon their presence anytime that Calen practiced there, as though the empire would suddenly swarm the Inner Circle if he were alone.

He ignored their open-mouthed stares. His feet moved faster, bounding over the stone of the courtyard, towards the stairs that led to the ramparts. Valerys was almost twenty feet above him and had almost reached the walls. His heart hammered in his chest as his feet pounded against the stone steps. Then it lurched as he watched Valerys lift higher into the air, clear the wall, and then plummet over the other side. Gone from sight.

Left foot. Right foot. The vibrations shot through his body as he scaled the stairs. Just as he reached the top and threw his hands onto the parapet, a white blur shot past him, followed by an immense gust of wind. The noise that tore through the sky was like nothing Calen had ever heard before. It was a visceral roar that rippled through the air, like a howling clap of thunder booming forth from Valerys’s jaws.

Something pulsed inside Calen as Valerys soared through the air. He felt Valerys’s mind in a way that he never had before. He closed his eyes; he didn’t need them. The emotions, the thoughts, feelings, sensations – he felt everything. The power that flowed through Valerys’s wings as they hammered against the sky. The cool air as it swept over his scales. The soft susurrations of the wind with every slight movement of his wings. The warmth of the afternoon sun on his back. The raw, primal emotion as it coursed through both of their minds at once.

Every hair on Calen’s body stood on end. It was the most intensely free feeling he had ever experienced. Even with his eyes closed, he could see every movement Valerys made.

He stood there for what felt like hours

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