Ronan shrugs, "Not all heroes wield swords in battle. Atlas."
Twenty - One
Shaye
It might sound silly but flying over the Tronovian forests is entirely different than flying over the frost tipped mountains of Elowen. In the Frost Kingdom, the weather is bitter and the wind is cruel. Despite practicing with Seraxes daily, I didn't adjust to the cold at all before we traveled south. Here in Tronovia, even though the weather has taken a dip into chilly territory, flying has been so much easier for me. My joints don't ache and my bones don't feel as if they'll snap in two from the ferocious wind. Here, I can soar without my teeth chattering.
I thought it would be a harsh adjustment for the Frost Dragons, but if they're struggling with the new air pressure or temperature, they display no signs of it. To the great irritation of my mother, Seraxes loves to dive close enough above the tree line that her belly is tickled by the branches and leaves protruding. I keep my chastisements to myself. Seraxes knows what her body is capable of better than I do and if she wants to scratch her belly, so be it. I won't be the one to stop her.Although Corvex and my mother keep a close eye on us during training simulations.
If we are to be ready for war, we must continue to practice as a team, as one cohesive unit. There's no telling if other dragons exist other than ours, so we proceed as if our group will be the only airborne assault available. With Nyx and Drexel now in the fray, we must all learn to move together. To strike and retreat when necessary. To watch our partner's back and be prepared to aid when needed.
It's a new style of warfare for Nyx but he picks up on it quickly, as if his mind is suited for strategy and battle.
When our session is over and our dragons are safely nestled in Draakstan with all the treats they could desire, Nyx and I make our way out of the arena only to find Ronan leaning against his personal carriage.
"I got to say," he straightens, a smile beaming across his tan face, "I am very impressed. Dragon riding leathers suit you both."
Nyx strikes a pose, flexing his biceps. "What can I say, Drexel makes me look good."
Thrane was here for our training session and kept quiet with how the meeting with the council went. Vidarr flew off the moment Atlas left Draakstan earlier and we haven't seen him since. But if anyone will spill details of that closed session, it will be Ronan.
"How did the meeting go?" I ask, trying and failing to hide my anxiety.
"I'll tell you one thing," Ronan chuckles, casting a glance behind us to make sure we're alone, "I'm not interested in pissing off your cousin."
"Oh no." I groan. "What happened?"
Ronan leans closer and whispers, "Thrane did what I've wanted to do for years. Tell everyone in that council off."
I sigh, not really surprised at all. "I suppose we should have seen that coming. Thrane doesn't particularly tip-toe around the feelings of others."
"And bless him for it," the prince's voice thunders. "I had to pinch my arm to keep from laughing."
"Does that mean House Basilius isn't welcome here anymore?" I ask, bracing for some kind of consequences for Thrane's actions.
"Oh, he's welcome here forever," Ronan drapes his arms across my shoulders, tugging me close. "Sure, a couple old men got their feathers ruffled but it'll do them some good. The point is, he made a case for Atlas and Vidarr and won."
"Wait," I pull away from him to square my shoulders to his. "Atlas can ride Vidarr?"
"As Thrane put it, the council had no say in dragon matters because they don't know shit about dragons."
Nyx barks out a laugh. "That Frost Elf grows on me daily."
"And he also volunteered to train Atlas. So," Ronan kicks at a small rock, skittering it across the path. "Looks like those two are going to be spending a lot of time together."
I narrow my eyes, confused. "Thrane… volunteered? Why?"
Ronan shrugs. "I have no idea. He doesn't seem like the good-natured type. There's a reason why he is going to train Atlas to ride his dragon, but no one other than him knows what that is. Despite what he says."
"Well, good luck to them both," Nyx huffs, stuffing his leather gloves into his pockets. "They're both hard-headed and have alpha male syndrome so I'm sure there will be a small war to be fought." Nyx stops, eyes brightening. "Actually, when are they going for their first ride? I need to see this, and I'll need to bring snacks."
I swat his chest with my gloves. "Way to be supportive, Nyx."
"What is more supportive than showing up to cheer for my brother?" He wiggles his brows at Ronan, drawing a muffled giggle from the heir.
Ronan collects himself enough to say, "As far as I know, they start tomorrow."
"Perfect." Nyx smiles, elbowing me gently. "I know where I'll be tomorrow."
