Alright guys, go easy on me. This is sort of a "testing of the waters" to see either how tremendously well this story goes over, or how horridly it will flop. Please read and review, especially if you're normally one of my Labyfic readers- I'd like to see what you guys think of it too! When she's speaking in another language, it's Draconic. I thought I'd be nice and slip in the translations for you…

Andrea

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Chapter One

The woman signaled her horse to a stop with a soft noise; a gentle hissing screech of sorts, so quiet that unless someone were carefully listening, they may have mistaken it for a baby owl's first cry. If they heard it at all. Signals passed between the woman and her mount quickly and quietly, they needed no harsh voice commands or sharp pulls of the reins to understand each other. The few signals they did use were unnecessary, they understood each other with what some would say was a sixth sense.

The large white war horse paused at the top of the grassy knoll, and patiently waited as she surveyed the lush green lowlands. Of all the places she'd been, this was the only area whose grass seemed to flow over the hills and valleys of the terrain like water, it moved in waves. Small wildflowers dotted the landscape, varieties that she knew Ja'er loved to graze on- she'd let him once they stopped. His granddame had loved them, as had his great grandsire whom she'd both ridden. She'd been here before, many times before over many years. The time before last was when she'd accidentally frozen half of the remaining members of a wagon party she'd been hired to protect. She was young, though, and learning her abilities and limitations. The last time she had been here, though, that was right before…

Ja'er stomped a large, feathered foot and flipped his mane. She patted his neck with affection. Ja'er always knew how she felt.

"Shafaer, ervorel aussir thurirl." On, my beautiful white friend.

Melianthe urged Ja'er on, down the hill. Another hour's hard ride or so over these grassy hills and there was a small village in the valley. It was doubtful that the village had changed much in the nearly three years since she'd been there. The shoddy, faded, inn would be the same, though it was probably now run by the son of the owner. Raoul had been old the last time she'd visited, and she was sure he would have passed it on to one younger by now.

Ja'er paused again at the bottom of the hill and the woman slid off his back easily. "Ready to run, my steed?" she whispered excitedly. This would be their last time for a few weeks at least; the town would soon be too close to risk such reckless yet blissfully carefree behavior.

Ja'er snickered, eager to be loosed. She slid the bridle over his head, and set it on the ground at her feet. The supplies he carried came next, followed by the saddle and saddle blanket. He then waited patiently for her to place her shield on the ground, undo her belt and remove her longsword and dagger, carefully remove her studded leather amour, padded garments beneath, then finally her shirt and undergarments. Lastly, she pulled a fire-opal pendant strung on a delicate gold chain over her head, and set it on top of the pile. One remaining piece of leather striping, loosely knotted, still hung around her neck. This was threaded through a silver, mother-of-pearl looking oval pendant. This, however, she did not remove. Fully naked, she turned to Ja'er.

"Thrae svern, edar vhir," air above, earth below, she chanted, and Ja'er's body tensed, one foreleg raised slightly, "on your mark, get set, and GO!" she finished. Ja'er took off like a white arrow, racing down the valley. Not a split second behind him, Melianthe took a long stride and jumped, felt her body change, took another long stride then leapt into the air, pushing off with her hind legs as her large, silver wings unfurled, then gained altitude as her wings made the first, powerful downsweep.

She soared upward, leveling out her ascent when she was a couple hundred feet in the air. Below and slightly ahead of her, Ja'er raced on, whinnying his triumph over her.

Melianthe beat her wings harder, caught up to the white horse, then sailed past him as he abruptly changed direction and ran back the direction he'd come.

Foiled!

She screamed her challenge at him, her silvery voice filling the air, and turned to go track him down. He was quite a ways before her, but she swooped low, flapped her wings furiously, and finally caught up to him. They ran and flew like this, Ja'er below, Melianthe above, for a few minutes. Neither gained nor lost any ground. Finally, Ja'er suddenly stopped running and looked up at her, whinnying, just as she flew overhead, the downdrafts she created sending his mane flying.

Still a draw.

She'd raced like this for years, with Ja'er, his granddame before that, his great grandsire before that… Ja'er's great grandsire had outflown her at a considerably early age, only three years old. As she had grown, learned to fly better and gained control of her wing muscles, he'd also grown stronger and faster. They'd raced simultaneously like this for years during their adventures, until the gray age had started to overtake him. His grandmother had been in her prime when she had finally matched Melianthe in flight. Not long after that she'd been cut down, in the best years of her life, by a group of horrid kobold wraiths. Melianthe had been crushed, afraid her long line of beloved horses had finally come to an end.

But nay, one small colt from that noble line still lived in a stable kingdoms away…

She'd had to fly for weeks, stopping only long enough at streams to drink and find sustenance, in order to get to the kingdom of her friend. Similar to her in looks, though not in lineage, he and his family before him had been raising horses for centuries. He'd given her her first horse, Ja'er's great grandsire, Lathien, which had actually been his personal horse. He'd kept Lathien's son, and continued breeding the line, exclusively for his own use, and her own.

She'd stayed in that little town of her friend's kingdom long enough to raise the newly born colt to adulthood, then had started adventuring again. Ja'er, named after her friend, had been with her ever since.

She let loose one more saucy challenge, then turned on a wingtip. Backwinging lightly, she landed a few feet away from Ja'er. He trotted over to her and bumped his head against her plated chest. Good run, he seemed to say.

Axun, she agreed. Yes.

He nickered and walked away from her, his head down as he nibbled lightly on the small flowered vegetation around him. She uttered a short, low grunt, and leapt skyward again. She would fly for a few hours while he foraged contentedly. With her sharp eyesight, she could fly for miles and see anyone approaching Ja'er or their combined pile of goods.

Yes, this would be the last time for a few weeks that they would be able to run and fly and race so freely. Tomorrow they had to ride into the village, and face what would undoubtedly lie before her.

She angled her wings and soared upward at a dizzying speed. Ah, but she would worry about that later. For now, it felt good to be a dragon!

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