Fantasy Come Fly with Me (AronTheAron and TifftheOdd)

[Tiff the Odd]

“So, my first real time doing anything with a spell and that didn’t even work...”Lark muttered as she looked at the little tree. The roots were tiny and not connected to the earth, it wouldn’t had survived long. She stared at the tree before Lark also noticed the glowing. She stuffed her hand in her pocket and pulled out a small acorn. The mana belonged to Lark though it had not come from the young girl, not directly. She then pulled the acorn close to her, giving Necroa an untrusting look. He hadn’t been very considerate lately so why did she think that he would be nice now.”It came from the tree that grew from my mother’s ashes....”She said, stuffing it back into her pocket.

“Maybe it was a sign that the forest doesn’t like how rude and inconsiderate you are being to your guide. You would still be wondering around this forest without me.”Lark wasn’t going to allow Necroa to leave her behind but she was not going to be carried in his claws.

 

[Aron the Aron]

“Maybe it was a sign that the forest doesn’t like how rude and inconsiderate you are being to your guide. You would still be wondering around this forest without me.”Lark wasn’t going to allow Necroa to leave her behind but she was not going to be carried in his claws.

Necroa pointedly ignored that last sentence in favor of closely studying the unnatural tree. He quickly stripped some bark off a small portion with his claws, accidentally clawing into the soft stem when he was surprised by the bark peeling away instead of crumbling. "It doesn't behave at all like other tree's in this forest. I'm no master of Life Magic, but trees are supposed to have ring patterns inside its cross-section." He muttered to himself, craning his head down to inspect where he clawed the tree.

"Is there a correlation between the magic in this forest and the burial practices of the locals? They use their dead to feed the forest; maybe the innate magic of sapient life directly influences the ambient magic of the area when buried..." His muttering had quickly devolved into incoherent chittering of New Tongue and Ancient Draconic, which was further muddied by his sudden pacing.

"Hmm... I must bring this up with the Elders as soon as possible; this could prove a boon to our research..." He shot a claw out and pointed at Lark. "We're leaving to the South posthaste, if I have to carry you in my claws I'll have too much to manage if I want to create and maintain a tailwind with my magic."

Hey wait a minute...

 

[Tiff the Odd]

“The rings say how old the tree is so the tree may be bigger but it’s still the same age. If you made me bigger or look older then I wouldn’t act different. I would still act like 11 year old me.”Lark watched as he picked at the tree, stuffing the acorn in her pocket.”Of course it’s connected. My people have been here for generations. Who knows how many people are buried here. Every baby born without life, every child whose life was taken too soon, and those who were ready to greet death with open arms. You can’t feel them?”She asked with a tilt of her head.

Lark supposed it would make sense, Necroa wasn’t a Druid and wasn’t born in these woods.”Like I said, the magic-....”She noticed the dragon had started to mumble in some language and Lark couldn’t help but giggle slightly. She often did the same when something excited her though less ancient tongues and more moving her lips faster than her words could keep up.

“If you suggest that I ride on your back then I’ll going to scream because that is literally what we are fighting about.”Lark gave him a scowl as she walked over to him though she stopped.”What if once we leave, I can’t feel her anymore?”Her hand went inside the pocket where the acorn was.

 

[Aron the Aron]

(Sorry about the absence; moving day!)

“If you suggest that I ride on your back then I’ll going to scream because that is literally what we are fighting about.”Lark gave him a scowl as she walked over to him though she stopped.”What if once we leave, I can’t feel her anymore?”Her hand went inside the pocket where the acorn was.

"Irrelevant question; hurry up a- bah! Ekess uoinota mrith nomeno!" He growled, scooping Lark up and onto his spiny back with one claw. It was not the most comfortable experience feeling a weight between his wings, but surely it'd become barely noticeable by the time he reached the Southern Ocean. Likewise for Lark, it was suddenly apparent just how uncomfortable Necroa was.

The moment she had awkwardly landed on his back, his scales made their presence painfully known to her. It was like sitting on thorns and glass; whenever she wasn't being scrapped and jabbed at by more jagged scales, she was slipping and struggling to hold onto the smooth portions of his back. Settling square on his back was an option, if Lark fancied sitting on rows of uneven crystals with very pointy tips. There was that faint thought of putting a saddle on Necroa's back, but it was improbable that any reasonable trader would have a Dragon-sized harness in stock. That, and Necroa would reduce her to paste if she dared to entertain the thought.

Did I mention that Necroa was already in the middle of taking off?

 

[Tiff the Odd]

Lark let out a small yelp as she was lifted onto his back. It hurt to sit and she knew that her legs were going to be torn to ribbons by the time they reached their destination. She was struggling to find something to hold onto and fear gripped her heart when she saw Necroa about to take off. She was going to die. She was going to die. Why had she done this? She closed her eyes, remember how she was treated. How the children wouldn’t let her play with them and how her father had faded before her eyes over the years. Their treatmeant of them and her mother’s death had beaten him down.

No, she could handle this. She knew that she couldn’t put a saddle on him. She could buy a leather wide strip and hopefully she could convince the dragon to allow her to do put it on him and maybe some chain that she could hold onto. Necroa didn’t care about her but that didn’t matter. She was going to prove that she could do this, to him and to her people.

Lark opened her eyes, hissing in pain as she tried to keep herself comfortable. She took a deep breath and tried to calm her panic. She could do this, she wasn’t a little kid. She found the smoothest part of his back that she could sit on, ignoring the stinging coming from her rear and legs. She didn’t know if the dragon could smell very well but she hoped he couldn’t smell the blood that she was sure started to creep down her leg. She got settled in a somewhat comfortable position and waited for Necroa to completely take off.

 

[Aron the Aron]

After assessing his ability to fly with Lark on his back, Necroa deemed himself air-worthy and stretched his wings out to their fullest. Suddenly every wingbeat shot him higher into the heavens like a bullet, leaving behind little gales of turbulence as he raced away from the ground. Suddenly the same scales and spines that cut into Lark's little legs dug her in and braced her against the headwind threatening to blow her off the Dragon's back, though for sure she would need to devise some sort of solution if she wanted to keep her legs into adulthood...

Higher and higher did Necroa race into the blue skies, parting clouds and winds alike as he soared without rival. And like flipping a switch, the ascent had ended as suddenly as it started, and the chaos had ceased. The ground Lark called home was no longer visible to her, buried under a sea of clouds that she could easily reach down and touch with her hands. The baby blue skies had become a muted navy not unlike a brightly-lit night, with stars twinkling ever faintly if she dared to gaze further into heaven. The once thick and hearty air had thinned considerably, making breathing an interesting, if uncomfortable foreign experience.

Lark was possibly the first Lesser in existence to fly in the domain of birds and Dragons.

 

[Tiff the Odd]

Lark was terrified. She had to clutch Necroa’s neck not to fall off and all she could think about was that if she died like this then her father would have no idea what happen to her. Her body would fall and land somewhere random. She never knew if she would get burial rights like the rest of her people but she had always hoped to be next to her mother though. Oh, she was going to die. She was going to fly off his back and he would care less about it. Lark was beginning to rethink leaving with a creature that clearly didn’t care about her safety or wellbeing. That didn’t care about her.

But then suddenly...

It was like everything stopped and suddenly she didn’t have to struggle to hold on anymore. She opened her eyes and they widened instantly. It was so pretty, an endless sea of clouds and sky. Lark reached her hand up and touched the clouds like one would do with water. The cloud were cold and her hand came back wet with water. She laughed and it did with her other hand. She was breathing heavily and it was uncomfortable but she found that she couldn’t bring herself to care.

It was beautiful and everything was calm. She was worried about her legs as she was sure that they got more cut up, her hands were full of little cuts and nicks but adrenaline was keeping her from feeling pain in her legs or hands.”This is amazing! You do this everyday? There are so many clouds! Necroa, look! I can touch them!”She touched the clouds again and then noticed a few birds flying a few yards away.”It’s beautiful, don’t you think?”She asked softly.

 

[Aron the Aron]

Tragically for Lark, all of her words never reached Necroa's ears. Despite the tranquility of the open skies, Necroa was still flying at a hurried pace, and whatever Lark had said was quickly left behind before he could hear it. His wings churned the clouds under him as he continued to fly, and his Runes glowed a ghostly white as he blew tailwinds to speed him along his way. He didn't need to fear any sort of threat; no Lesser being could hope to touch the skies like Dragons, and being above the clouds spared him from the majority of weather that would otherwise blockade his progress southward.

But even at speed with a favorable wind, the journey would take a touch under a week at least, not taking into account any stops or unforseen events. Such sprints meant he'd have to stop once or twice somewhere to briefly recuperate, a time when Lark would hopefully prove useful. Much of the land was still foreign to the Dragon, and discerning safe places would come down to his intuition and Lark's knowledge of the land (which she didn't have in reality).

The morning quickly gave way to the afternoon, and the sun's heat and brightness intensified as the day went on. Necroa had to duck down into the cloud layer for brief stints of time before returning to the open air, lest he burn and boil under the unfiltered sunlight for too long...

 

[Tiff the Odd]

Flying was cool but Lark knew they were going to have to land soon. There were many reasons why she was dreading this. Her excitement was starting to die down which meant that her legs were starting to hurt. A lot. She had to be careful how to move them or she would gasp in pain. She felt the legs of her trousers were a little wet so she must be bleeding. She was scared to look down to see the state of them though maybe if they were bad enough then Necroa might take pity on her though her legs were the least of her concerns.

When Necroa ducked below the clouds to escape the sun, all she could see was land that she was unfamiliar with. The black dragon was going to ask her where they should stay and Lark is going to have no idea. She would be useless so he would probably just leave her behind. She could feel panic seizing her chest and she had to take a deep breath. Lark was only 11 and as children tend to do, she hadn’t thought all of this through. Unfortunately, that lapse in her concentration had caused her to start to slip from Necroa’s back. She tried to hold on but her hands and legs were hurting and they had little to no strength to allow her to pull herself off.”Necroa! I’m slipping!”She yelled, praying that he heard her or at least felt her weight shifting.

Lark whined softly as she tried to stop herself from slipping but the next time that Necroa ducked below the clouds, the moisture from the clouds made her grip slippery. She let out a scream as she fell from Necroa’s back, plummeting to the ground below.

 

[Aron the Aron]

Necroa had preemptively felt Lark's weight shift on his back before she had slipped, but her weak attempts to stay on his back had inadvertently forced an uneven balance on his back. He was caught nearly rolled to one side if he hadn't forced his tailwind to reverse into a headwind, catching air in his wings to restore his stability. Not so much luck with Lark though, as he had felt her weight lift and fall away from his back along with her scream of terror.

"Oh for the love of..." He growled in exasperation, aborting his self-righting and turning his unwanted roll into a sharp dive downward. His lithe build and serendipitous scale shape made him a perfect missile as he raced downward, helped by the generous window of time generated by the insane height he started from. Catching up with the weakly flailing Half-Druid was remarkably easy because of his greater speed, plucking her out of the air with a claw before he fanned his wings out and began to pull out of his dive. With Lark firmly nestled (read: completely enveloped) in both of his claws, he took notice of the small puddle of blood he was collecting. There was already stains of Lesser Blood on his back, and he didn't fancy having that dry out on his scales, so he elected into a gentle descent.

Having started so high above the clouds, Necroa still had a long ways to go before he could touch the ground. The greens of Lark's forest home had long given way to rolling hills and plains, with a lone brown line signalling a path the Lessers had flattened out for travel. No signs of life aside from him and his (fraudulent) guide, but clusters of trees were sparse and small; finding somewhere that could conceal him from unwanted attention was impossible...

 

[Tiff the Odd]

Lark was falling and screaming then suddenly she was enveloped by darkness. Her chest heaved and she could feel tears gathering in her eyes as she tried to calm down from the near death experience that she had just experienced. She continued to try and calm herself because she figured Necroa had caught her and was landing. It was hard though, the space was small and the air was thin.

The moment that Lark tried to stand, she fell down on wobbly knees. She had to fight the tears that were threatening to fall. She could feel the pain in her legs start to come back and she gently pulled back the pants leg of her trousers. It looked like someone had tried to peel her skin away with potato peeler. They are raw and bloody. She was so shaken and pained that she couldn’t even bother to try to pretend to know where she was.

“W-Where are we? Where did you land us?”The small girl had clearly been shaken by her fall and the flight. She didn’t have anything to bandage her leg with and she was going to have to continue to travel like that.”Just carry me in your claws, alright? You win, you were right. It’s not better on your back.”She said softly, wiping the tears from her eyes but they kept falling. She bet that Necroa would make her get back on his back for spite. He could probably care less that her legs were in pain.”I need to clean my legs or I’ll get an infection...”She spoke through her tears as she tried to stand up.

 

[Aron the Aron]

The moment Necroa had touched down atop a knoll, he began to take stock of his situation. Lark had crawled off his claws and fallen over onto her raw legs, and while Necroa would've made some snide comment on the fragility of the Lesser Races, he had more pressing issues to deal with...

She was so shaken and pained that she couldn’t even bother to try to pretend to know where she was. “W-Where are we? Where did you land us?”

... Like what Lark had basically confessed. Some calmer part of him rationalized that Lark was likely delirious from the pain and too addled to recognize her surroundings, but...

"So you know not of where we are what you called home! You... YOU!!!" He roared, his voice commanding and wrathful from the duplicity. "Insolent wretch! A youngling of the Lesser Races dare play me for a fool! I spent ten days flying and three days wandering that damned forest; I let my bleeding heart win one time and carry a whelp on my back like petty livestock, and now I stand here in the middle of buck nowhere. And what did get out of all that? NOTHING! Nothing but news of wasted time and energy to my people!" His rant was made manifest in sparks of dangerously unstable magic, with sparks of flame erupting with every snort, and arcs of electricity dancing across his scales to accompany his hate-ridden speech.

Necroa was mad, very mad.

 

[Tiff the Odd]

Lark didn’t yell back or snap at him like she usually would. She was in too much pain and there was a part of her that was scared. He was loud and he was clearly angry with her. She pulled her knees tight to her chest as she felt tears roll down her cheeks.”I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t think it through, I just needed...”She trailed off as she backed away from him, wincing in pain. Everyone was right about her. She was useless.

His words did make her feel a little angry.”That flight wasn’t great for me either. My legs are...are...”She had tried standing and she was able to do so though her legs screamed in pain. She could feel them shake.”Go, just leave. I don’t care if you do anymore. I wanted us to be...”The words got caught in her throat and she finally had to sit back down. She didn’t know ever she was going to do about her poor legs. Necroa was just going to leave her here.

That was the thought that broke the dam. Her tears came down faster and she hugged her knees to her chest.”I’m sorry, Necroa...”She said softly, the young girl looking defeated as she buried her face in her knees as she tried her best to keep her weeping silent.”Stop calling me that! I’m not lesser! Why do you hate me so much?”She did manage the weak command, scrubbing furiously at her cheeks though she wasn’t really sure if the last sentence was meant for Necroa.

 

[Aron the Aron]

”Stop calling me that! I’m not lesser! Why do you hate me so much?” She did manage the weak command, scrubbing furiously at her cheeks though she wasn’t really sure if the last sentence was meant for Necroa.

The furious glare Necroa threw at Lark was smouldering as he vented and raged. He was still plentifully angry, enough to whip his tail around and shatter a tree by accident as he continued to rave on. "Hate you? Hah, you talk as if my hatred is single-mindedly meant for you! No, whelp; I hate you and the entirety of your misbegotten kind. Generations of Ancient Draconic history desecrated and destroyed by Lesser creatures; remnants of our mighty cities torn down and replaced with filthy stone castles; temples of our Goddess burned and looted by your people in the name of their pagan gods. By Asherah, even our own magic you have pilfered and turned against us. We are lucky enough to know that scarce ruins still remain..."

Necroa snorted as he turned and spread his wings to take off. "We left everything behind in our Exodus, and we returned to find nothing."

 

[Tiff the Odd]

“I didn’t do any of that! I’m 11 years old, you stubborn dragon! How was any of us suppose to know about your ruins and your magic? You are just like them! You take your anger out on me even though I’ve done nothing! Nothing! I would give it all up, you know! I never cared about magic or sacred ruins. I just wanted to not be left behind. Mama died, Papa might as well be gone. He drinks and passes out. You saw how my grandfather and uncle treat me. I bet nobody has noticed I’m gone.”Lark stood up on shaky legs, ignoring the pain as she took a few steps forward.

Necroa’s wings outstretched and Lark knew he was about to take off. She had looked for belonging with this dragon who probably was always different from his kind as well though.”I-I didn’t do anything wrong...”Her voice was soft and a wind started to pick up. Her eyes starting to glow a soft purple. Her red hair started to whip around as wind grew stronger and stronger.”I didn’t ask to be born the way this way. I didn’t do anything WRONG!”Then it was like something shifted. The soft glow of her eyes grew more intense as the wind picked up to a speed that would disrupt any kind of tail wind that Necroa would try and create.

Lark felt like her whole body was on fire. Somewhere inside her, something had woken up and was trying burst out of her all at once. The magic was her own but she could not control. She felt scared and she didn’t know how to stop it. She could feel the mana threatening to tear her apart. Something blew away from Lark’s pockets and landed near Necroa, a little acorn. It was small and insignificant but it held some kind of magic to it.

The magic wasn’t wild and chaotic like magic that the young girl was displaying, it was gentle and calm. If Necroa chose to touch the acorn, a vision would flash in his mind.

A young woman laid in a bed, she was beautiful but clearly very sick. Her hair was the color of fire. Nobody else was in the room except for a small girl curled up on the woman’s side with her head on her stomach. It was clearly Lark, her red hair was longer now and she was much smaller. The woman stroked the girl’s hair, gazing at the child like nothing else mattered. Nothing was said but the memory emitted a strong feeling that developed anyone who saw the memory. Love. The love only a mother could feel for her child. Pure, untainted love. Suddenly the woman looked at the viewer, her eyes still warm and she smiled.”The thing about hate, is that it consumes you. It leaves room for nothing else. It consumes you until you can’t even love yourself.”

The vision ended though the emotions and feelings would still linger. Lark was battling to get herself under control. She had reached into the pocket that the acorn had been in but when she felt nothing. The wind picked up and small cracks started to form along the edges of the young girl. Yes, Necroa could leave. His magic was probably strong enough to fight through the storm that Lark had created but leaving her like this would most likely destroy her.

 

[Aron the Aron]

”I-I didn’t do anything wrong...”Her voice was soft and a wind started to pick up. Her eyes starting to glow a soft purple. Her red hair started to whip around as wind grew stronger and stronger.”I didn’t ask to be born the way this way. I didn’t do anything WRONG!” Then it was like something shifted. The soft glow of her eyes grew more intense as the wind picked up to a speed that would disrupt any kind of tail wind that Necroa would try and create.

Necroa's foul mood darkened further when his wings caught the erratic gale pulsating from Lark, causing him to stumble awkwardly and catch himself before he could be blown away. "Wretched... I am this close to killing you whelp; be lucky that..."

Whatever left of his sentence was forgotten when he felt the Mana. He was no stranger to it, being so attuned to magic; he could tell that whatever hellish magic was unfolding was far too unstable to end well. The quantity of Mana was intense, far more than what Necroa was experienced in handling when he casted Arcane Magic. If he let the Mana spiral beyond control, the resulting blast and shockwave would level the area, himself included.

Turning around with a grim expression, he stomped forward towards the chaotic storm of Mana. He felt an odd twitch in his head when he unknowingly stepped on the acorn, but whatever intrusions into his head had been swiftly crushed and forgotten, his mental defenses too much for the memories to have taken cognitive hold. The power emanating from Lark lashed out like whips, cracking and whirling against the Dragon's scales, seeping into his adapted body and filling him with a proverbial wind.

"Hmph. So the Lesser maintains an unstable brand of magic unlike which I've seen. Interesting..." He mused to himself, taking a moment to inspect Lark and her suffering. "Were it not for the fact that I cannot escape the resulting blast, I would've been content to sit and watch what happens next. Sadly, dying now is of ill benefit to the clan." He reached out with an arm, enveloping as much of Lark as he could...

Basic magic theory among the Ancients was that Mana fuelled every bit of magic made manifest, and the hypothesis was simplistic: cut off the Mana, kill the magic. Add more Mana, intensify the magic. Tapping into his latent magic, he began the arduous task of absorbing the volatile Mana that was feeding the system. He could feel the uncontrollable Mana Lark emanated clash with his own natural Mana, wriggling and struggling like a rabid animal while he wrestled it in his own body. It was hardly a contest. Lark's dangerous outburst of magic was simply her body not being suited to control such amounts of Mana at once; compared to the living magic catalyst that was Necroa, taming the wild Mana had been but a workout for him and his fortitude.

Necroa would never admit it, but he created far worse as a whelp when he was still learning the basics of magic. After all, they named a crater after him back home...

 

[Tiff the Odd]

Whatever Necroa was doing, seemed to be working. Lark could feel the heat and the burning leaving her body. She could feel her knees give out and she was able to catch herself with her hands as she started to fall.”Sorry, I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”She was causing trouble again for someone who didn’t deserve it, maybe this was exactly what she deserved. She glanced up at the dragon and she knew that he probably just stayed because he wouldn’t have been able to take off.

Maybe Lark was finally worth a second glance. The thought filled the young girl with anger but she could feel something. She could feel some kind of energy. It was familiar and she felt like she needed to get to it. The young girl’s Mana had began to ebb away but now, it’s energy began to pick up and she stood. She was beginning to panic, searching her pockets desperately.

It was clear what she was looking for but some of the energy, she could feel on Necroa. Whatever energy that had come from the acorn seemed to have clung to him, it was almost like it did it on purpose when Necroa had refused the vision it had tried to share. Whatever Necroa had been doing stopped working but the Mana was ebbing away again.

Lark walked to Necroa, placing her small hand on his arm. The wind died down and the cracks faded from the corner of her eyes.”I’m sorry. I don’t...”The glowing faded and just as quickly as it had come on, everything stilled.

Lark suddenly felt tired and she could feel her legs again. She sat down before she could fall, panting.”Are you okay? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to do that! I don’t even know what that was. It was kind of cool though, right? No, it was scary. But kind of cool. You were just gonna leave me here with two injured legs!”Her rambling ceased and she scowled at the dragon.

“How could I have done that?”Lark asked.

 

[Aron the Aron]

Lark suddenly felt tired and she could feel her legs again. She sat down before she could fall, panting. ”Are you okay? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to do that! I don’t even know what that was. It was kind of cool though, right? No, it was scary. But kind of cool. You were just gonna leave me here with two injured legs!” Her rambling ceased and she scowled at the dragon.

“How could I have done that?”Lark asked.

"Had I the choice, I would've gladly left you to suffer the effects of whatever chaos you unleashed. Unfortunately for me, such inaction would've ended my own life, so suppressing your unbounded magic was my option." He raised the claw he had used to directly absorb Lark's unstable magic, noting the peculiar pattern of crystalline growths on the back of his claws. They appeared to be temporary growths, and he guessed that they would naturally fall of with time, not unlike ice covering a stone statue. "Your unstable Mana I overestimated in strength; forcing it to heel and assimilate with my own magic had been insultingly easy to achieve." Overall it had been an interesting exercise in suppressing and absorbing another being's magic; the applications in further research into such a practice could be a boon to him in case he came across more Lesser creatures capable of Magic.

"Whatever questions you have about your magic you can keep to yourself. Much as I would delight in exploring the magical physiology of a Lesser, you are a hazard to my health and sanity. I still have a week's worth of travel ahead of me, and your stunts have done me no favors." He had already wasted several minutes on the unwanted stop, and with the Lesser whelp now in a condition that wasn't a threat to his own life he was free to get back to the skies... sans one passenger. Shrugging off another strange twinge in his head (something told him that whatever it was wasn't going to be leaving him alone anytime soon), he stood up and flared his wings out wide once more.

 

[Tiff the Odd]

Lark was laughing though no humor was present in her tone.”I’m a hazard to your health and sanity? Look at my legs! You did nothing to suppress what just happened. I felt something, I don’t know but you didn’t calm me down. Actually, you are kind of making me mad again.”It was true. Lark would have raged on and on and on if it hadn’t been for whatever energy she had felt coming from the-.”The acorn!”She walked over to it and picked it up. She turned it over in her hands, she wondered if it had something to do with why she had been able to get her magic under control.

“You touched it, so some of its energy was left clinging to it. But I shouldn’t even be able to...”She trailed off. That had never happened before and it had left her kind of exhausted.”Please...”She had walked over to him and she placed her hand on his forelimb.”Don’t go, okay? I’m sorry I lied but you wouldn’t have taken me otherwise and I was helpful back in the forest. You would have been flying around for weeks.”The dragon was infuriating, he was cocky and selfish.”Aren’t you lonely? They sent you out here by yourself. If someone had come along would you had been able to try and control me while fighting off angry village people or worse, the King’s men. I may not know locations but I still know more about this kingdom then you. I can talk to people about rumors or magical temples or whatever, you know, information?”She wasn’t going to let this jerk of a dragon just leave.

 

[Aron the Aron]

The annoyed groan and pinching of his snout was probably enough to tell what Necroa's personal opinion was of Lark. Baggage, annoyance, unworthy creature, the list unfurled in his head as he considered leaving without the Half-Druid. Did she seriously think that his own clan would be capable of sending help? The precious few of them that were on the continent had their own duties to tend to, and the only other Dragons that could've made the journey so far inland like him were from less-than-friendly clans. Then again, it wasn't like Lark was aware of just how thinly stretched the Dragon Clans were over the massive continent...

As he stood there and then, he did have some figment of a conscience in his Draconic mind telling him otherwise. He hated the Lessers for their crimes against the Dragon's history, but he knew fully that an injured child like Lark would stand no chance alone in unfamiliar lands. She was still claiming to be of some use to him, despite her earlier lie. The silence dragged on for an uncomfortable few minutes as Necroa deliberated internally. Then, when it seemed that he had turned into a statue, he spoke up.

"... Fine, I'll humor you out of some sick passing of mercy. Do not make me regret this decision... Nine hells, I already am regretting this..." He grumbled, almost having to spit out the words like sand in his mouth. Blowing a gentle Northbound wind with his magic, he stretched his wings out and took to the air with a running start, scooping Lark up in his claws once more before taking off once more into the air.

 

[Tiff the Odd]

Lark was use to the treatment so her determined look didn’t waver as she looked at Necroa. There was something about her though that seemed a little more subdued though whether that be from exhaustion over her previous “outburst” or from the emotional toll of the day, she was unsure. Her look wavered the longer Necroa stood there. Would he just leave her? She had no idea where she was and she wasn’t sure how far she would be able to travel in her current state. Her mind was already starting to figure how she was going to make it if he left when Necroa spoke again.

As he spoke, her face morphed to one of glee. Lark’s blue eyes brightened and she grinned.”You won’t regret it, Croa!”Lark would never admit that the nickname was meant to annoy him slightly, payback for threatening to leave her. Lark didn’t protest when he scooped her up in his claws. She was not eager to have a repeat of earlier. Her spirits seemed to have lifted considerably now that she could enjoy the flight without her legs screaming in pain.

She was determined to be of use to Necroa. Though she really only had one goal right now: To get Necroa to use her name. He hadn’t called her by her name once. Her eyes spotted a large lake that was overlooked by a large city.”Thats the Capitol! The royal family lives there. Don’t fly directly over it!”She yelled over the wind that was roaring through her ears.

 

[Aron the Aron]

With clouds looming densely over the skies, Necroa shot upward higher and higher into the air like a rising gale. The brightly-colored roofs of the settlement Lark pointed out stuck out against the rolling greens of the surrounding countryside, and little ships wobbled and bobbed on the gentle lake like toys. He didn't see too much harm in brazenly flying over the city, but he did choose to rise up into the generous cloud cover above the medieval city. His wind magic was at full force with a hefty tailwind, pushing him up as he darted above the clouds and on to his eventual destination. His shadow did scarcely peek through the inevitable gaps in his cloud cover, but he doubted that he would be made out for briefly casting a shadow over the land. Even if he was discovered, no weaponry could touch him from the ground, much less hurt him.

Passing over the city (if he could even call it that) without disturbance, he continued his flight south with Lark firmly grasped in his claws. With his passenger in his claws, he had to divert some of his focus into making sure his claws didn't flex or relax. Though her value to him was still questionable to him, rushing or dropping her be repeating what had transpired earlier. It was a good thing she had stopped bleeding; the unpleasant sensation of dried and crusted Lesser blood was an icky feeling on his scales. He didn't have the greatest grasp on Life Magic to do any reliable healing, not to mention his lack of knowledge on Lesser physiology.

---

The sun hung to Necroa's west as he continued unimpeded, slowly drooping with the passing hours until it was touching the distant horizon. The landscape below had become even less familiar from their day of flight, being a mishmash of pastures and woodlands with the odd village here and there. For the Dragon, it had been a monotonous and tiring experiment in testing the limits of his endurance; flying and casting a continuous stream of magic had been taxing on his mind and body. Lark likely suffered an uncomfortable ride, being stuck with his claws as her only means of comfort during the long hours...

 

[Tiff the Odd]

As the hours ticked on, the young girl was started to grow limp in the dragon’s grasp. She had found a way to lean her head against his wrists that was comfortable enough to try and close her eyes. The only thing that kept her from falling asleep was her empty stomach and a full bladder, both of which she hadn’t mentioned to the dragon because surely he must stop to ear and rest soon. Lark’s legs were also stinging painfully and she was still felt a little sad from earlier if she were being honest. She was use to pushing her needs away so that others didn’t think she was weak so this was no different, though she could hide her hunger all day. The other problem was a little more pressing.

Lark had been squirming in his grasp for awhile and she continued for about half an hour before speaking up.”Can you land?”She asked, speaking loudly over the wind so that her voice would reach Necroa’s ears or whatever dragons used to hear. Lark wasn’t really sure. She also wondered if the dragon was tiring out, he had been flying for awhile.”Don’t push yourself too hard.”The words fell from her lips though she doubted that the dragon heard them and honestly, she was nervous to do anything around the dragon. Necroa hadn’t wanted to bring her and she wasn’t going give him an excuse to leave her alone. A jerk dragon as company was better than being alone in unfamiliar land.

 

[Aron the Aron]

Rest had tempted Necroa from the moment he felt the strain of flying and casting simultaneously. Lark's bugging and asking had been the reminder that daylight wouldn't last for much longer, and flying in unknown territories during the night was only inviting misfortune. The day's travel had produced an unsatisfactory distance, with Necroa and Lark's argument having been the biggest culprit. He still nursed the idea of simply abandoning Lark to her fate; her worth to him had dwindled to "questionable" at his most optimistic, and she had yet to prove herself of greater value than being a glorified weight for him to hold on to...

Spying an alcove of trees gathered among the vast nothingness had been the final push. Drained of physical and magical energies, he dropped his wind magic and steered himself down to the ground. He was still careful the whole way down; the odds of encountering or being spotted by other Lessers always remained low, but he would've been gambling with his life if he ignored the possibility... When he finally touched down the first thing he did was scan his surroundings for any particular detail that would serve to hinder his ability to remain relatively concealed. The trees and undergrowth were modest in covering his frame, but the majority of his stealth would have to be from his natural coloration. He was not dark blue, but at least his greyscale palette would let him synchronize with the abundant shadows...

 

[Tiff the Odd]

When Necroa touched down, she squirmed from his grasp. She did make a small noise as her feet landed on the ground, sending a wave of pain. Her wounds weren’t hurting like they had earlier but the constant ache coming from them was enough to make her want to cry. She just wanted to cry in general but she wasn’t going to. Necroa had made it very clear about what he thought of her and the fear of him abandoning her gripped her heart. She couldn’t see much but she lifted up her hand, able to produce the littlest of flames. She then chewed her lip, knowing she shouldn’t stray too far from Necroa.

The young girl turned to him.”Croa, I need...um, you know and you need to turn around and not listen.”She sounded tired and downtrodden. She slowly shuffled away from him and found some bushes that she could go behind.”Don’t listen!”She called and then made quick work of relieving herself. She was use to going outside in the wilderness. When she was done, she stood up to walk back though her foot caught on a tree root and she fell on her belly.

Lark wasn’t hurt though the fall hadn’t helped the pain in her legs. She felt so emotional and she felt like a toddler for letting that fall bring her closer to tears. She slowly stood up.”In the morning, if you want, you can drop me off at the next village.”Her words shocked her but maybe she just rather be treated unkindly by her own tribe then this dragon who cared less about her then her people.”It’s okay, I’m not very strong and I can’t do magic like you. You are the most amazing person I’ve ever met. I’ll always be glad that I met you.”She didn’t care if he tried pushing her away, she sat right by his leg and leaned her head against it.

“I’m sorry I lied to you and I’m sorry that I wasted so much of your time. You gave me a chance and that’s more than anyone has ever given me...”She then looked up at the sky.”I did like flying though, despite everything. It was the most exciting thing that has ever happened to me.”Her lips formed a smile as she laid down on the grass with her arms under her head.”Thank you.”She added, giving his leg a gentle pat.”And you are my friend even if I’m not yours.”