My name is Miriel. I am 300 years old. I have blue eyes and light purple scales. I am a Royal Dragon. Royal Dragons have mastered all the arts so they can keep bad dragons from doing bad. We supposed to keep order. Dad is king. Mom is queen. Nyra is older sister, Marina is twin, Rovreln is younger brother. I learn to write right now. I fly higher than Marina. Nyra flys good. Rovreln can not fly. He just hatched. Nyra is 500. I light candles with magic and
"Miriel, that's enough," Mom said. I looked up at her, away from the parchment, ink dripping from the claw I used to write. Why'd she stop me? Did I do good? Did I do something wrong? Did she have to leave? "You did good. If you keep it up like this, you'll be miles ahead of Marina!" she laughed affectionately and I felt a burst of pride surge through me. I was better at writing than Marina!
You're not better than me, Marina reminded me in my head. I'm still the one who can first talk to you through our minds. My moment of triumph vanished. Telepathy was easy for twins, especially Royal and Psychic Dragons. Marina had already figured out how to enter my mind, but I still couldn't enter hers unless she let me in. It annoyed me, but it was comforting that I was better with the natural elements than her. Fire, earth, ice, water, sky. They came easily to me.
"I'm afraid I have to go, now," Mom said. "Clean your claw." I obediently licked my claw clean from ink and looked back up at her. Her eyes were green, and her scales were so dark they appeared to be black. But sometimes, when you look really closely, they sometimes look like really dark purple. She was sitting upright, wings wrapping neatly around her, her legs and slender tail barely visible.
"Why do you have to go?" I protested, trying to imitate her pose but my wings weren't big enough yet to cover both my forelegs and my tail wouldn't coil around my left foreleg properly. I knew I looked ridiculous, but it was just me and Mom there. How did she manage to look so regal without even trying?
"Your brother has to learn to fly, too, you know," she answered. I grumbled in reply, and she laughed. "Why don't you try and enter Marina's mind?" I gave up on trying to sit like her as the idea sank into my mind. If Marina could do it, then I could too, right? How hard could it really be if twins could do it easily? I was going to figure out how to do it, and I was going to figure it out right then and there. Normally, I wouldn't be able to focus on figuring it out because I would get distracted by flying or something else. But not this time.
Focus… focus, I thought, closing my eyes and scrunching up my face in concentration. I pictured Marina in my mind, how similar to me she looked, how her voice was slightly softer than mine, how she and I constantly competed to get ahead of each other.
How I saw her face look when I saw her practising telepathy once.
I instantly relaxed, mimicking what I had seen her do. I stopped scrunching up my face, and I stopped trying to force it. I took a deep breath and reached out with my mind.
Marina, I called silently. I repeated her name over and over.
WHAT? Marina's voice was harsh in my mind. You've said my name like five times; what do you want?
Marina! I can talk to you first now! I said to her, hoping I was able to keep the link open. Was it really this easy? I felt no drain on my magic energy at all! Marina didn't reply, making me worry that I couldn't reach her anymore.
It's about time, she finally replied. But now I'm in the middle of a flying lesson, so I can't talk right now.
Flying? That sounds like so much fun! I didn't want her to go. I wanted to keep talking with her, just in case I wouldn't be able to pull this off again.
I said I can't talk right now! Marina said. I briefly wondered how far I could go with this ability, and then my magic reached out further to her. All of a sudden, I was in the air. The wind was cold and harsh, biting at my scales. I was furiously beating my wings, trying to get higher. With each wingbeat, I became more tired. Soon exhausted, I tried to land. I slowed my wingbeats, trying to control my descent. But it was difficult. Once I was a few feet off the ground, I folded my sore wings and fell, landing on my feet.
"Again! Fly higher!" I could hear the instructor order. I opened my eyes just as I was about to take off again. I had seen and felt what Marina had seen and felt!