The peaceful town of Karwich sat on the coast of Sapphire Ocean. They had lived and thrived there for centuries, perfectly content in their 'old fashioned' ways. Theirs was a small fishing community on the eastern coast of Saxet. Unlike their inland brothers, they did not enjoy daily brawls or gun fights. In fact, one might say that gun fights were strictly forbidden by all of Karwich's villagers.
Today was a day like any other. The sun had risen over the ocean and shop keepers had begun selling their wares. Women went back and forth between business like a horde of primed-up bees. Gentlemen (there were no other kind) tipped their hats and discussed politics over a rousing game of poker. Ships set sail from the harbour to find the best fish and peace reigned. At least for a little while.
In a small shipyard by the docks, something unfamiliar was happening. A disturbingly loud shout filled the air, momentarily startling anyone near by, and was followed by the slamming of two doors. A young, redish-haired woman stormed out into the filled streets and continued storming until she had reached the docks. Behind her trailed the shipyard owner, pleading with her to be quiet.
"I can't believe you're letting me go!" The woman shouted. She turned suddenly, causing the man to nearly run into her. "You're not letting me go."
"I'm sorry, Bette but we have to. Times are changing and-" The meek old man never got to finish his sentence.
"No!" Bette's face contorted into a mask of stone. "No. I have been with this company for twenty years and my father before me." The man opened his mouth but Bette cut him off again quickly, her voice rising and falling on every point. "What about my career? What about my men? What about- What about my ship?"
"Your ship will be sent to the retirment docks." The man had to talk over the enraged woman's biting words.
"The retirement docks?! Do you know what happens to ships at the retirement docks?" Bette snapped angrily.
"I'm sorry, Bette." The man stood straight and sighed deeply. "We have to let you go. That's final." He looked into her eyes pleadingly then turned and walked back into the busy streets. A few patrons of the docks had stopped to watch their public display. When Bette's firey green eyes fixed on them, everyone returned to their own business.
Bette stood for a moment in silence. The hand that gripped her slender, black cane had turned white with pressure. She felt her own nails dig into her skin but didn't relinquish her hold. Turning on her heels, Bette stormed towards the ship anchored near by. Her ship, her pride and joy. The ship was called the Rising Dragon in memory of her father's ship, Hatching Egg.
All her life Bette had lived by or on the sea. Her father had taken her on every voyage possible, teaching her all that she knew of the water. She loved the sea as much as he had.
Only a few years ago her father had passed away, leaving her with the family business. His ship, the Hatching Egg, had been caught in a terrible storm out by the rocks and had finally... hatched, spilling all her passengers into the raging waters. Bette had learned of his death the next day and commissioned the building of her own ship, Rising Dragon.
A man strode leasurily towards her, dressed in the familiar sailor's garb of a loose, white tunic and black pants. A red sash tied around his waist fluttered lightly in the breeze. Bette pulled back her cane then hurled it with all her strength towards the man, letting out an enraged cry at the same time. The man ducked the flying projectile and caught it, just barely, by his head.
"You dropped this." He grinned, handing the cane back to Bette as she stormed by. Bette growled and scrunched her face into a snarl, snatching the stick out of his hands. She continued stomping towards the loading deck, hearing the man's sound footsteps follow behind her. "What's up, Bette?" He asked curiously.
"Meeting in my quarters. Now." Bette replied, her booted feet thundering up the wooden plank as she strode onto her ship.
Not ten minutes later, most of Bette's personal assistants on the ship had crammed themselves into her small room below deck. There were five of them, all men and all seasoned sailors. Bette sat at the table nailed down to the floor in the far corner of her room. Her captain's jacket rested over the back of her chair, the soft, red silk lining dull in the single candle light. Little of Bette's face could be seen, but everyone knew the vengeful, plotting look that filled her eyes.
"They've let me go." She said in a flat tone. No one spoke behind her so she continued. "They're going to send Dragon to the retirement yard tonight to be chopped up for kindling."
"What are we going to do about it?" One man spoke up. There was no 'I'm sorry' or 'too bad,' all five men had lived around Bette long enough to know she wouldn't give up that easily.
Bette smiled slightly, a gentle upturning of her lips that hinted at diabolical schemes. "We're leaving."
* * * Bette Artimis barked out commands left and right as her crewmen scurried around to prepare the ship to leave dock. The sails were released and the anchor brought in. Bette marched regally up to the helm and looked out over the vastness of the ocean. In the dying light of sunset, the water sparkled with captured fire. The sun was an untouchable treasure floating out where no man could reach. A light breeze had come up almost two hours ago, just enough to fill the sails. The timing was perfect.
The second roaring shout of the day disturbed those still on land as the shipyard owner came out to see what the commotion was. He'd heard rumours that all of the Rising Dragon's crew had been called back and the planks retrieved. Seeing Bette ready to launch her ship, he cried out again and waved his arms wildly to get her attention.
Bette turned and peered in amusement down at the balding old man. She raised one hand, keeping the other tightly clasped behind her back and twiddled her fingers in a mock farewell. With a broad smile on her face and vengence glittering in her eyes, Bette gave her First Mate the command to launch.
She decended from the helm when all had gone well. The village and it's pompous citizens were behind her and her baby was sailing majestically over the waters. The same man who had caught her cane earlier turned to her and grinned. He had seen the shipyard owner's face when she waved to him. Bette smiled then threw her head back and laughed, nearly doubling over with mirth.
"That was priceless!" She grinned, patting the other man on the back. "I'd do it again just to see his face. HA!"
"It'll certainly be something we never forget." Her look-out chuckled. He congratulated her on a dramatic exit then scurried up to his post. Bette was left to wander over her ship, feeling the planks thud soundly beneath her feet and hear the waves lap harmlessly against the hull. Her heart swelled with pride as she watched every loyal crewmember hard at work. Even the cabin's boy did his chores with extra vigor after the thrilling escape.
Before they had left, a letter was sent to each member of Bette's crew. It told of the escape plan and when they were to set sail. Also, it gave them the option to stay on land and deny any knowledge of their leaving. She wasn't about to force them to leave their families. A few sailors hadn't returned, but those that had were there to the end. These were the people she could trust.
"So, where are we headed?" Her First Mate came up behind her unknowingly. Bette awknowledge him with a nod and motioned for him to stand by the side railing with her.
"We'll figure it out when we get there." The red-haired woman shrugged.
A commotion broke out suddenly by the escape boats. Crewmen stared in shock at something in the bottem of one of the boats while the cabin boy scurried over to Bette. Recieving a questioning gaze from his captain, the boy saluted quickly then blurted out his message.
"There's- there's something in the bottem of the boat, cap'in." His high voice quivered with a mixture of fear and wonder. Obviously, he had never seen anything like the 'something.'
Bette grumbled to herself and briskly stormed towards the circle of crewmen. She dispirsed them with a wave of her cane then strode forward to the offending boat. No one disrupted her ship. Still, she was cautious as she lifted the very edge of the tarp with the tip of her cane. Bending down slightly, she peered into the darkness of the craft and tried to discern where the disturbance was.
A loud snort and snore split the tention that had been building up inside of her. Bette jumped back a step then, scowling in her best commander fashion, she ripped the tarp from the boat and exposed her stow-away. She was quite surprised by what she saw.
A man (was it a man?) lay sprawled out on the bottem of the boat. His mouth hung open in another loud snore as he slept soundly on. That wasn't the surprised part though. What drew the most attention was his attire... and hair. His clothes consisted of a single, whtie body suit with a light blue, metal breast plate. Wires ran up and down one side of the suit while the other was bare. Lights flashed and danced and would've displayed his vital signs had Bette been able to understand them. His face was hidden behind a round, metal helmet with a blue visor. From the helmet rose a single antenna and across the visor sped multitudes of numbers and equations. His hair was the other noticable thing. It was blue. Pure, dark (and shiney) blue. It hung nearly to his shoulders and was as straight as a rod. One could swear later that day that they heard Bette's jaw hit the ground as she gazed at her tresspasser. When he began to wake up, Bette jumped back another step and held her cane like a sword.
The man yawned and smacked his lips as his eyes lazily began to open. He stretched one arm, then the other, then finally looked up at the woman standing over him. With a broad smile on his face, the man removed his visor and sat up, holding out a hand to Bette. "Hi. Name's Chip." His voice was animated and friendly, as was the smile he wore. Still, Bette only raised a brow and swung her cane back and forth threateningly.
"What are you?" She asked dryly, still not trusting this... creature.
Chip blinked in confusion then looked at himself up and down. "Well, I thought it was kind of obvious that I'm a human."
"Human's don't have blue hair. At least not the ones I know." Bette returned. She gingerly took a step forward though didn't drop her defensive stance. By now, their odd predicament had gathered a crowd.
"Then I'm glad to be the first." Chip grinned. He waited a moment before hoisting himself uneasily out of the boat and onto the main ship. Clinging to the side rail a moment, he waited until his legs were no longer jelly before facing Bette again. "What's your name?"
"Bette Artimis, Captain of this ship." She replied sharply, jumping back a step as he set foot on deck.
Chip smiled broadly and straighted, reaching his full height of 6 feet and towering over Bette's small frame. "I'm honoured to meet you, Captain Bette Artimis." He bowed low and awkwardly to her, obviously not used to the motion. He opened his mouth to speak again but was cut off as a shattering boom rocked the ship. Bette lost her footing and went careening into Chip's arms, barely missing running him through with her cane.
The strong willed captain glanced up just in time to see the sleek, metal form of a sky ship pass over head. The vessel was small and shone with the reflected brilliance of the water. It turned through the air like a giant bird, circling around for another attack. At the other end of her ship, Bette saw the prow burst into flames. Her eyes widened in shock, unable to comprehend how the single red beam that shot from the front of the air ship could do so much damage.
Chip lifted the stout woman to her feet again, his eyes worriedly scanning the sky for more 'metal birds.' The joyful expression that once marked his face disappeared beneath a serious and thoughtful cover. Chip snatched his helmet off the reeling deck and quickly placed it back on his head, immediately focusing on the numbers flashing across his visor.
"Wh- what...?" Bette croaked desperately, stunned to a point of numbness. She watched her diligent, loyal crew scurry quickly across the deck to control the fires; watched them thrown back by blast after blast from the air ship; watched them scream as the red beam tore through them.
"I'm afraid this is my fault." Chip spoke softly, his voice dropping to a flat, determined tone. "It's me they're after." He paused for a moment to push a few buttons on his flashy suit. "If you'll let me, I can get rid of them."
"This is your-?!" Bette turned on him viciously, finally able to do something. Though she wanted to tear his head off for bringing this plague on her ship and crew, there weren't enough words in the world to curse him. "You brought this on us!"
"I didn't mean to get you involved." He replied calmly, adjusting the controls on his helmet. He held up his left arm and tilted his wrist down, revealing a small pocket just above his hand as he did. "If you can get them over here, I'll get rid of them. Then you can do what you want with me."
Bette sputtered for words for a moment, her green eyes focused on him with a burning hatred. Another deathly scream split the air as the air ship leasurily picked off each of her crew members, one by one. Bette looked up fearfully and swallowed the lump that had grown in her throat. With a stiff nod, she ran forward and began waving her arms wildly.
"Hey!" She shouted at the ship, though she didn't know how much it would help. "Hey you! Down here!" With all the strength she could muster on the rocking deck of her wounded ship, Bette drew back her arm and hurled her cane at the bulk of the metal creature. It had the desired effect. Slowly, as if offended by the attack, the sightless bird turned towards Bette. It dove suddenly, almost too suddenly to be seen. Bette collapsed to the ground and threw her arms over her head. She waited for a moment, knowing that the red fire would soon tear through her body like it had her friends.
A thunderous explosion rocked the ship. Searing heat blasted across the deck, biting through Bette's jacket and scorching her skin, but she was alive. Silence fell after the blast, complete and undisturbed save for the ocean. Waves continued to rock her ship but soon they too were quieted. Cautiously, Bette peeked out from under her hands and surveyed her ship, what was left of it at least.
The prow had been utterly destroyed and still burned in places. The wooden dragon which had adorned the front of her ship, glittering green and gold, was now a charred mass missing its head. Burned and wounded bodies littered the deck, staining the sable wood with blood. A gaping hole passed air through one of the sails, black around the edges. Her baby was still afloat but in pain.
Footsteps broke the silence as Chip walked forward. He paused beside Bette and held out a gloved hand to her. Bewildered and stunned, Bette allowed the strange man to help her to her feet. He still wore his helmet, giving him a mysterious, other-worldly look. Lifting his eyes from her, he looked across the water to where a red glow still marked the place the other ship had fallen. When it had dove for Bette, it exposed its one weak point. It was a risky shot but Chip had never missed in his life.
"Oh dear gods..." Bette choked, stumbling towards a crumpled figure lying beside the main mast. She dropped to her knees, ignoring the pool of blackened blood that covered the wooden planks and brushed the man's hair away from his eyes. Bette shivered and let her hand fall, confirming her fears. Her First Mate was dead.
* * * Bette ran her hand over the smooth, cold metal of Chip's helmet. She felt the curve of the back and followed it around to the tip of the visor. Small, colourful buttons lined up along the edges, some dancing with light and others dull and blank.
"So you come from... Barok?" She asked for the tenth time that day. They sat in her cramped quarters, a lamp swinging overhead to give them light. Night had fallen and her crew was beginning to recover. The dead had been gathered and would be given a funeral at sea the next day. Wounded were tended and sent back to their quarters. Those who could still work spent the rest of the day cleaning up the ship and putting out fires. Now, the day was over and the sounds of a sleeping ship mixed gently with the lapping of waves against the hull.
"Yep." Chip's voice was lighter then it had been during battle but still not as carefree as when he'd first been found. He sat across from Bette, his arms resting on his knees and his hands clasped between his legs. He carefully watched Bette inspect his gear, making sure she didn't set anything off by accident.
Bette nodded slowly, letting her eyes wander over the liquid shine of the helmet once more before she set it aside. Her face was grim and her attitude towards him was one of thankfulness and anger. He had saved her life and her ship, but he was also responsible for bringing death upon them in the first place. Her eyes, bright in the darkness, locked with his and seemed to delve into his soul as she thought. They stayed like that for a moment, waiting in silence.
"You're the reason we were attacked." She began quietly, gripping her hands tightly together. She leaned forward and rested her arms on her legs as he was. "But you're also the reason we're still alive." She let the information sink in, watching him nod slowly.
"This is your ship and I am I trespasser. I guess it's up to you what to do with me." Chip couldn't help but smile lightly. The woman before him was deeply tanned with a mane of wild, red hair. Her features were short and solid, nothing like himself. He was a tall, pale skinned stranger with deep blue hair. Though he would never admit it readily, he thought it was cute when she tried to look serious.
Bette chewed on her lip in deep thought. "Why are you here?" She finally asked.
Chip shrugged lightly, almost too slowly to be believable. "In Barok, everything has a pattern. You're born with a social status, grow up with a certain way of thought, become a working member of society then die. There's no adventure, no escape. I wanted something more then to be a mechanic." He looked up at her and saw the dream-like vision in her eyes. She was picturing what it was like for a society of 'strangers' to live everyday. "I stopped working and focused on getting away. The higher-up people didn't like the idea that I was different and so gave me a choice, rejoing their society or go to prison. I chose to escape."
Bette nodded slowly and deeply, her face taking on the look of one deeply knowledged in life. "Well... I can't just kick you off. We're in the middle of the ocean." She conceeded. "Are you headed anywhere?"
Chip brightened suddenly, a broad smile touching his lips. "I am, in fact. I'm- I was headed towards the Warren. My ship was shot down so that's why I tried to hitch-hike on yours. I want to be a dragon rider."
Bette's lips turned down in a frown. "Dra... gon?" The woman's brow crawled up her forehead in confusion.
Chip grinned. "Big, flying lizards that talk. They're really cool. I'll have to show you my studies on them sometime." His voice became animated and joyous once again.
Bette continued to stare at him oddly. The expression on Chip's face was one of honesty and belief. Sighing to herself, Bette shook her head and fixed him with a new, questioning look. "Do you know how to get there?"
"Yep." Chip dipped his head in a quick nod, his eyes still dancing with laughter and life.
Bette closed her eyes for a moment and dropped her head so that a veil of hair covered her face. Her knee bounced up and down for a moment before she stood and looked down on him, finality in her gaze. "Alright. You'll have to direct the ship since I have no idea what a Warren even is." She held up an accusing finger before Chip had a chance to thank her. "And if those metal birds of yours return, you have to get rid of them."
Chip nodded enthusiastically, having jumped to his feet as Bette stood. He clasped her hand and shook it vigerously. "You won't regret this. I'll take good care of your Falling Dragon."
"Rising Dragon!" Bette shouted after him as he ran out the door. She had a moment to think on whether or not this was a good idea before Chip's voice rang out loudly up above. He was trying to play her job.
* * * Days passed, and then weeks. Though the crew was suspicious of him at first, they soon grew to accept and then love the stranger in a white suit. He laughed with them and played their games. His flashy buttons and criss-crossing wires always drew attention, often making him the center of attention when everyone should've been at work. Even Bette became less cautious around Chip. She smiled more, lighting her eyes with a familiar fire, though it was tame now.
With Chip's position as guide and protectorate, he began to take on the duties of a First Mate. He even sat beside Bette at meals. Or tried to until she shooed him away for some reason or another. At the close of three weeks, Chip had become one of the crew.
Throughout this time he never failed to keep them on a calcuated path towards Magik. Storms came and blew them off course yet with Chip's advanced tracking devices, they always found the trail again. It was no surprise to everyone that when the shout went up for land, it was the exact date Chip had determined the first day he took charge. Now there was only one problem, where did they land?
Bette stood by the prow of her ship, a spy glass to her eye. She swept the magnified gaze across the expanse of beaches and cliffs, looking for anything suitable for landing a ship. There was nothing. Beside her, Chip held a flat, metal sheet before his visor and tapped the screen lightly.
"Anything?" He asked absently. His eyes remained locked on the darting numbers and image of the beach.
"Nope." Bette returned in the same, flat tone. She sighed deeply and pulled the spy glass away from her eye, letting it slide together on its own. Chip pressed a button on his flat screen. When the device beeped and turned black, he turned towards Bette and shrugged.
"Now what?" There was a blank, helpless look to his face.
Bette opened her mouth to reply when the second cry of the day went up. "On coming ship!" Cried the look out. Immediately, Bette's crew leapt into action and prepared themselves for possible attack. Bette snapped out her glass sharply and looked over the blue expanse of water to where the other ship had been spotted.
She didn't have far to look as the opposing vessel was almost upon them. The crew was so caught up in getting to land, no one had been paying attention to their rear. Bette watched a flag raised on the main mast of the other ship, sporting blue and silver as its main colours. She motioned behind her quickly to get their own violet and black flag in the air. Praying that someone had understood her wild motions, she grabbed the loud speaker from the cabin boy standing beside her and waited to be hailed.
A tall, red-haired man strode to the prow of the other ship and stood with one foot on the wing of a wooden angel. His deep blue jacket and tri-pointed hat gave him away as the captain and the ease in which he stood told of how many years he had spent on the sea. The darkly tanned man lifted his own loud speaker to his mouth and made the first hail. "My name is Captain Chris Audil of the Hydra Scorn. What is your position?" The distorted sound reached across the quickly disappearing distance between them.
"I am Captain Bette Artimis of the Rising Dragon. My crew and I are looking for a land called Warren. We hail from Saxet and mean no one any harm." Bette shouted into the metal hole. Her voice was still flat and commanding, as it usually was when she worked. Chip smiled faintly at the memory of when she had laughed as loudly as the rest of them.
Chris paused for a moment and spoke to a man beside him. When his voice drifted across the 20 ft. distance between them, it had lost its formality and taken on a lighter tone. "You mean The Warren? What business do you have with Mystic that would bring you all the way from Saxet? If you don’t mind my asking, Captain."
"I'm dropping off a friend." Her reply was short and to the point. Bette was somewhat confused by his change in attitude.
"Follow me into the harbour and we'll finish our talk there. If your intentions are good and your sights set on the Warren, you'll be welcome in Terglinear." Chris lifted his loud speaker in a salute then jumped down from the prow to ready his ship.
Bette blinked and cast Chip a confused glance. "What just happened?"
The man in white was grinning broader then he ever had before. He had removed his helmet and now the wind swept his silky hair up in playful curls around his pale face. His blue eyes danced with joy as the Rising Dragon turned to follow Hydra Scorn. "We're going to see Mystic."
* * * Rising Dragon set into port in the fishing capital of Terglinear. Small shops dotted the cobble stone streets leading up to the town square. All around the central fountain sprouted grand towers and mansions which housed the wealthy ship owners. No beggars roamed the streets. In fact, Bette could faintly make out a long, slant-roofed building with a sign that read 'Shelter' near the edge of the shopping district. Her crew marvelled at the fancy maidens who perused the streets with their fathers or mothers and drooled over the banquet of new and exotic food. She had given them leave to go explore as soon as they set in. So it was when Chris came aboard, only she and Chip remained.
Bette straightened her back and clasped her hands together tightly by her coat tails. Her favoured cane rested beside her, leaning against the railing. Chip stood a little ways behind, his helmet held under one arm while his face showed the same respectful look that hers did.
Chris smiled warmly, removing his hat before holding out a hand to greet Bette. He was much taller now then standing on the prow of his ship. A light dusting of freckles spread across his nose and his hair was short cut and wild. Bette caught herself comparing the sky blue of Chris's eyes to Chip's joyful, almost childish gaze. She cleared her throat and shook the other Captain's hand politely.
"A pleasure to meet you, Captain Audil." She said formally, nodding her head curtly. Chris chuckled lightly in his deep, accented voice.
"And you, Captain Artimis. I see your crew has already gone to inspect the wonders of our land. Does that mean you'll be staying?" He shrugged his shoulders back in his light captain's jacket. Though Bette was close to melting in this heat, his jacket seemed to keep him cooler.
Bette tilted her head slightly to the side, squinting in the bright light of this tropical land. "For a few days I suppose. I-"
"-Want to see Mystic." Chip cut her off quickly, finishing her sentence with an innocent smile spread across his lips.
Bette turned to him and frowned lightly. Her formal appearance dropped completely. "Now just wait a minute. You said we'd just drop you off and forget about it. None of this meeting new people."
Chip smiled graciously at Chris while fluidly wrapping his arm through Bette's and pulling her out of ear shot of the other Captain. When they were safely at a distance, he leaned down to her level and clasped his hands before his chest in a pleading gesture. "Please, Bette? Just come meet her. You'll like it here! I know you will."
"No!" Bette spread her hands and swept them across the expanse of Terglinear while her mind desperately searched for words. "Look at this place. I don’t belong here."
"Where else are you going to go?" Chip returned. "Back to Karwich? They'll hang you!" He paused to let the information sink in then, in a very Chip-like gesture, got down on his knees with his hands raised up to her. "Please? Please? Please? Please? Do you even know who that guy is? That's Aaron's brother." Seeing Bette’s blank look, Chip sighed and continued. "Aaron is the Caretaker Second of the Warren and Mystic's husband."
Bette glared down at him as one would a disobedient child. Neither of them noticed Chris' odd glance at their behaviour. "Why should I? I'm not going to impress a dragon or anything." If Bette had learned anything from her time with Chip is was about dragons. It seemed the Barok born man never talked about anything else. At least not to her.
Chip's face became a festival of joy and sudden inspiration. Bette paled at the mischief dancing in his eyes. "No." She said determinedly. "Absolutely not."
"Just try. Not everyone impresses!" Chip latched onto her jacket tails. Bette hissed at him to let go but try as she may, she couldn't dislodge his hold.
"Will you swear to leave me in peace if I agree to this?" She growled under her breath, still trying to jerk her coat out of his grasp.
"Yes! I swear. I swear I will." Chip replied, finally letting go. Bette reeled back a step but quickly caught herself before she made a complete fool of herself in front of Chris. She threw her shoulders back proudly and glared at Chip as he literally skipped back to her side.
"Alright." Bette muttered, somewhat sulkily. "Let's get some directions." She walked back to where Chris was standing, apologized for their actions then asked which road they had to take to the Warren. Chip would have bounced off the ship had she not kept him in check after that.
* * * Mystic sat in the cool darkness of her enormous weyr. A fire blazed in the duel fire pit against the far wall, casting light into the shadowed corners of the egg-shaped room. A few papers decorated the top of her elegantly carved table along with the dried wax from several candles. A quill rested in one of her slender, graceful hands while the other rested on the ebony armrest of her chair. She looked up at the two figures standing before her with a calculating glance. All three of her search riders (and her husband's dragon) had already informed her that both of them would be worthy dragon riders. Though it wasn't right to get their hopes up right away.
"Not everyone impresses." She repeated what Chip had said earlier in her calm, commanding voice. The strange, flashy man from Barok seemed about to fly through the roof with excitement. His eyes continued to wander over every inch of her weyr, pausing the longest on the sleek form of her silver bond. The woman, on the other hand, seemed almost uninterested.
"So I've heard." She muttered dully. The woman sighed deeply and let her arms drop to her sides where they had previously been crossed over her chest. "Look, unless you’ve got some kind of dragon made out of water, I doubt I'd fit in here."
Mystic raised a slender brow and chuckled softly. "Almost but not quite. We have water bound dragons and a Water Wing." She shifted forward in her chair. "Is that what you're interested in?"
"The water's my life." Bette returned in the same tone-less voice. Her eyes met and held Mystic's inquisitive gaze. Mystic smiled and stood slowly.
"And what of your friend?" She asked mildly. With a flick of her wrist, the red mage called her staff to her side. She felt the cool metal press against her palm with a reassuring strength.
"Pfft! Me?" Chip spoke with the same joy that he had the first day he’d met Bette. "I was born on the water." He gulped back a yelp as Bette applied pressure to his foot. "Well, maybe not born on the water."
Mystic smiled and chuckled softly. Her gaze passed from one to the other. They are an odd couple. She sent to her bond.
So are many couples. Myrah'Care returned with a sly smile. Her starry blue eyes pierced the darkness of the cavern. But Blakoreth says they will do well.
Yes but where to send them? Mystic seemed to stare off into nothingness as she bespoke her bond. What, to them, was a full conversation, took only a few seconds to be transmitted.
Baeris will know what to do with them. Myrah'Care settled her head back onto her forepaws and closed her eyes, signally that she had said all she needed to.
Mystic smiled and turned to Bette and Chip. "If both of you are still eager to impress, then I suggest you gather what you need and meet me out on the flight fields."
"We have all we need. We packed it before we came." Chip almost stumbled over his own words (and feet) as he followed the red-robed woman through the tunnel leading outside. Bette followed at a slower pace, stopping completely as her eyes were blinded by the bright light of day. She blinked and squinted to see anything beyond the white glare in front of her gaze.
The first object to swim into focus was that of a gigantic, golden dragoness. The queen dragon sat proudly a few feet in front of them. Her wings were half spread to capture the sunlight and turn it into dancing brilliance across her hide. Swirls of light and dark gold wrapped around her form, reminding Bette of a candy treat. The dragoness’ eyes whirled a bright blue as she tilted her head and smiled at them.
Hello, Captain Artimis. My name is Mariamanth. The fluid, sweet tone floated through Bette's mind with startling clarity.
"Whoa!" Chip exclaimed, seeing Bette’s utter bewilderment and jumping to a conclusion. "She spoke to you! I wonder if I can get her to speak to me." The man in white turned and focussed all his attention on Mariamanth, willing her to speak. His eyes grew wide as contact was obviously made. "Well, that wasn't very nice."
Mystic's soft laughter interrupted them. The mage stood beside a tall, sturdy woman who was obviously the dragon’s lifemate. "Don't mind them. I've found that any dragon who lives here tends to speak their mind more openly then most. You won’t find as much of that in the Nexus."
"I'm not sure I'm ready for this." Bette stared up at the magnificent gold. A creature out of myths, larger and more stunning then she had ever thought possible. She was both in awe and overwhelmed. An arm wrapped around her shoulders reassuringly. Bette looked up into Chip's smiling face, or what she could see of it through his visor. Everything was tinted a pale blue because of the screen. Still, the promise in his eyes was undeniable.
"Don't worry about it, Captain." He used her title, both to lighten her mood and lift her spirits. "You're Bette Artimis, Captain of the Rising Dragon. You can do anything."
Bette smirked and considered swatting the impish grin right off his face. Instead, she patted his hand lightly and walked towards Mariamanth's lowered shoulder. Rei already sat in the dragon saddle, waiting to help both candidates up to her bond's back. Chip took one more long look around the Warren, memorizing every tree and blade of grass. He drew in a deep breath then let it out, then followed Bette to the dragon's back.
Images drawn by: Me! Don't steal them!
Bette and Chip are candidates at: The Healing Den