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Nick pressed himself close to Vesper's neck, hunched over the saddle and smiling like an idiot as they scorched through the air, leaves fluttering all around them, blown astray by the air they moved.
Nick laughed, as one twitch of Vesper's mighty wings launched them to the right as they burst through the end of the Vines; his birth-forest, leaving an explosion of little tweaks and leaves behind.

The young flyer shadowed his eyes with his hands, not used to the brightness of the sun just yet. Vesper let out a happy 'Mrr' as she looped through the air, chirring away in dragonese, while Nick looked down on the rolling hills beneath them, watching the little, white villages spread out in the shallow valleys.

He sighed as Vesper's speed dropped and laughed as she flapped her wings one last time before floating gently through the air that would carry them to Caldar-castle.
Nick gently rubbed the back of her neck, kneading the muscles he felt there, just like he knew Vesper enjoyed.

She purred at him and lazily flapped with her wings, a tremor running over his spine.
And while this was a small shake to a dragon like Vesper, it almost made Nick fall out of the freshly oiled saddle.
He chuckled, regaining his balance and petting Vesper gently after her apologising hum, but his face darkened as his eyes looked up to the mountains up ahead.

The Lunar-mountains, named after the moon that hung above them at night, were the centre of Ylonia, Caldar-castle –their destination— located in the highest peak.
The mountains waved out into the hills on one side, the Chysnii-desert on the other. Nobody knew where the Chysnii ended, but the hills had a bright scala of large forests at their feet, one of which Nick called his home.

All of these forests and mountains had names, many in several dialects, but Nick –not really a student for geography, though mated with an aerial-type dragon— only knew the most important ones and some of where his friends lived. Besides, Vesper would always take him where he needed to go.

Now, though, she was taking him to the place where he least wanted to go. To the castle of the Elders.
He had to remind himself that it was for a good cause; to get his little brother back, at least for a little while.

Some sarna-birds, phoenix-like birds that instead of burning, brought forth a grand scala of colours, decided to accompany them in their flight, trying to imitate the shine of Vesper's scales in their long, graceful wings.
Nick had to admit they did a marvellous job, but nothing was quite like dragon-scales in the sunlight.

They didn't give up though and Nick saw many human-dragon pairs, bullets (a very intelligent breed of Minotaurs) and others alike stop in their tracks to smile up at the Blue Aria darting around with the birds. Nick tried to enjoy himself, drinking in as much of Ylonia's beauty as possible, before they would reach the castle.

Eventually though, they reached the mountain and landed on the giant deck of the black castle. Frankie's new 'home' was half build into the mountain and had lots of sticky-out bits, consisting of massive towers, layers of hallways, gigantic windows and entrances for all kinds of creatures.

Vesper's wings twitched nervously, like she was reading his mind, spreading them out protectively before folding them in again to let him slide off her back. Nick petted her flank softly.

Nick didn't like the feel down here either and he involuntarily shuddered as he looked up at the ancient palace, which housed enough ancient magic to rule all of Ylonia. He always felt slightly imposed when he would come here –not that this was a frequent thing— and was faced once again with the sheer greatness of it all.

"I know," he whispered to Vesper anxiously kept flicking her tail and she growled in response, watching servants in impeccable white approach them, three of them, as usual. Their cloaks were tight and split at the sides, from their hips to their ankles, to allow them moving space.

Nick self-consciously worried the hem of his own tunic, loose and screaming of his freedom ideal. He really should start listening to his mother.
Vesper nudged him playfully.

Okay, sometimes. Maybe.

"Aria Vesper and Flyer Nicholas, third heir to the Lucas family?" One of the servants asked.
It was a middle-aged nymph-male, pale like his waters and fingers long and webbed that stared at him with the startling blue eyes of his kind. Behind him stood what Nick guessed was a young werewolf, going by the scars on his face and another nymph, probably related to the one in front of him.

Nick confirmed the question with a nod and watched as the nymph bowed to Vesper, asking her permission to approach them and pressed his cool fingertips to Nick in formal greeting.

"Follow me please," he requested and stepped back in the formation of three, leading them further into the castle.

Nick's eyes goggled once again, even though he'd been here before; the architecture of the building was unexpectantly pleasant to the eye; sculpted ceilings and wall-paintings of heroic times were only a few of the many impressive traits of the castle. And that were just a few of the ones that originally came with the building. The elders had obtained many other treasures, through war, tax or gifted, sometimes simply because they'd wanted it.

The steps of their feet, whether clad in the soft, white servant-shoes or his own leather boots, echoed through the space of the hallways, build for dragons even larger then Mandy, Joe's dragon. Vesper's nails ticked on the tiles and Nick felt unease raiding off her. He tried to soothe her silently, through their link and reached back to softly touch the tip of her nose.
She gave him a draconic grin and licked his fingers. 'I'm okay,' she said silently, 'just make sure you'll be'. Nick nodded.

They entered the main hallway of the castle, crowded with visitors and servants, several dragons looming on the beams above them. There was a lot of noise, almost every creature that roamed the land of Ylonia represented in this gigantic mountain-space, each with its own sound, look and ways of communication.

Mostly, it were Flyers though, visiting the castle for some reason or another. Some for a request, others because they were summoned by the Elders. He heard Vesper hum softly as she recognised a dragon she'd met before.

Nick tried to ease his mind, she'd be fine here, surrounded with her kind, he shouldn't worry over her.

"Leave your dragon, please," the nymph requested, but Vesper had already taken off towards the ceiling, gracefully dodging a group of harpies and nipping at some playful winxes in order to reach her friend, whom happily chirred at her.

"Come along," The nymph said and took Nick to where few people were ever allowed to enter. Let alone with a weapon or dragon –hence the separation– and it didn't surprise Nick that they were completely alone after the black door closed behind them.

The young werewolf opened another boy and they entered another, fairly large, but much darker corridor, stopping there. There were no more doors here, but archways, leading further into the private domain of the Elders.

Nick saw servant's in grey speeding through the luxurious chambers and darkly-coloured pixies resting on the chandeliers. Their dust clinging on the dark walls like a decoration, other then the paintings and decorative lights.

The three white-servants wordlessly handed him over to a single grey one, a young demon woman, and they started walking again. Their footsteps muted now, as they walked to purple-carpet.

Nick curiously looked around –it had been a while since he'd been here, after all– and marvelled over the wealth on display.
This time, the walk was shorter then before and they walked into a very familiar room.
The Caldar throne room.

The room was the ultimate conclusion to the castle, but Nick only had eyes for the boy sitting on the black dragon's throne.

Frankie.

He was stiff and looked bored, but it was most definitely Frankie and Nick nearly –kinda– teared up at the sight of his little sibling. He'd grown since last time Nick had seen him, which was more then six months ago, on the back of his father's ridgeback Arrow, who had brought him back to the castle.

His curls were so similar to his and his eyes completely their father's. The black robe he wore didn't suit him, but Nick didn't complain.
The only thing he really wanted was to run up to his little brother and hug him flat.

He could only avert his eyes when a creaky voice spoke to him; "Welcome, young Flyer."

Nick's eyes darted to the figures, six of them, Frankie making the seventh, whose dark grey cloaks nearly camouflaged them against the equally grey walls.
What a horrible place to grow up.

Nick felt the pressure of the oath on his shoulders, pressing down and he fell to his knees, bowing down before the six men and his brother.
He loathed this part.

"Stand, brother," he heard Frankie say and immediately felt the pressure disappear, "What is your purpose?"

Ridiculous traditions, Nick thought. "I have come to request tour return home for the sommerfestivals."

There was a brief silence, before all six Elders nodded their heads, one by one. After that, Frankie nodded too, eagerly and Nick could see him hiding his smile.

"Your wish is granted!" and with that, he flew off his throne and into Nick's arms. Finally.

At that moment, Nick didn't give a damn about the disapproving faces of the Elders, or the fact that it was their fault he was missing out on this.

The only thing he cared about was the boy in his arms and the complete trust and happiness that he felt in the death hug.

"Hey," he whispered to Frankie, who nodded against his neck, nearly buried in him.

"You may escort Franklin to his room now to retrieve his belongings," one of the Elders said, before all of them disappeared through the archway and out of sight.

Nick knew there were a lot more elders then just the six he saw here, but that these were the most important. They were Frankie's direct teachers and functioned as the highest form of ruling, now that the Caldar wasn't fully educated yet and even after that they would stay highly influential as Frankie's advisors.

He carried Frankie back through the hallways, smiling at some servants that broke their mask of indifference when they saw the brothers. It must have been a sight for them in between these grey walls.
Nick knew for sure it would've driven him crazy, but he was grateful for the care on their faces. It meant Frankie wasn't completely on his own and a few even greeted them –mostly Frankie– and he smiled at them.

They were mostly human-like creatures. He saw a few more nymphs and werewolves (who would be guarding the castle at night, but now served as human look-a-likes. All of them dressed in white or light-grey cloaks.

He even saw a two or three Neko's, which was more then he'd seen in a lifetime, but he recognised the cat-people immediately and he was impressed.

Neko's were a breed half human, half feline, which had resorted in a human appearance adorned with furry cat ears, cat-eyes, fangs, claws and a matching tail.
Neko's were known for their exquisite beauty, but the ones Nick saw were absolutely gorgeous. Their faces flawless and soft-looking, their bodies graceful in their movements, as he saw two of them run playfully through the corridor, smiling like chesires before continuing their game. They were slim and languid, their aura's radiant. Nick saw why so many people and creatures were attracted to them.

He was also disgusted by the role they were forced to play.
They were pets, in the best way to phrase it, prostitutes in the worst. People wanted them and since they weren't very strong, people simply took them.
It had grown to be normal to most of the kinds, over the years. A pet-neko had become a status-symbol.

Their family could probably afford one, but Nick was glad none of them felt the need.

He softly stroked the back of Frankie's head, still holding him.

No, he thought, they were much too busy with each other, and smiled.

They reached Frankie's room and the big brother in him was glad to see this room, at least, was more child-like and painted a proud dark blue. He smiled affectionally at the mess.

He put his brother down and the nine-year-old immediately ran over to his bed in the middle of the medium-sized room, a small trunk and a back from underneath it.

"Just as sneaky as I remember, huh?" Nick said, his voice slightly raspy and chuckled when Frankie beamed at him.

"Yeah," he said, "they said I couldn't pack before the confirmation of your request, but I really want to go home."

"Still see it as home?"

"Of course, what else would be home?"

"Nothing. C'mon, let's get going," he said, glad that Frankie still viewed their tree as home and swiftly swooped up the trunk, which would fit nicely in Vesper's saddle-bag and gave Frankie the bag to swing over his shoulder.

"No, wait! I still have to say goodbye to Peeka!" Frankie said in sudden horror, dropping the bag and speeding off, Nick –the trunk back on the bed as well– following him in amused confusion.

"Peeka!" Frankie hissed into one of the rooms, "Where are you?"

Nick wondered who and what this 'Peeka' person was and how she was related to Frankie. He really hoped it was some sort of playmate or something.

Then, something furry dropped from the ceiling.