Hello everyone! Happy Friday, and I hope people are doing okay and keeping occupied as much as they can!
Also, holy crap it's the last chapter. Hhhh. Finishing something this long always feels super weird. Doesn't help that I'm a bit sleep-deprived and incoherent, so... ajlskdfjlksdj enjoy!
116. Wings
It was time. It was past time.
Raven had stayed until the hybrids were all freed. She'd stayed until they settled into temporary homes in the burnt-out headquarters building. Then she'd waited even longer, until they were shipped off to Beacon or to Atlas. There was nothing left for her to do.
So why was Phoenix being so difficult?
"Come on," she snapped. "We can't keep the tribe here any longer. They don't trust this place, and neither do I."
"Nn." Phoenix sat down and pointedly ignored her.
"Our forests are probably teeming with Grimm by now." Raven gave Phoenix a hard shove that didn't budge her an inch. "Now get up."
"Izz it," Phoenix said mulishly.
"Is it what?"
"No. Izz-it."
"I can't tell what you're saying."
Phoenix gave her an unimpressed look.
Raven grimaced. "Fine. Fine. We'll visit. Occasionally."
Phoenix preened.
"You can't seriously be telling me you like it in the kingdoms."
"Nno. 'Ang."
Damn it. "She doesn't want anything to do with us," Raven reminded Phoenix, as she gave her another tug. This time the dragon got to her feet and followed.
"Does," Phoenix insisted. She balked again when Raven tried to get on her back, pushing her away with her nose. "Bye. Ssay bye!"
"Ugh."
Raven hoped Tai would be too busy with the last of the hybrids, but when she went looking she found him sitting on a bench between Yang and Ruby, watching the sunrise. So she tried the next best thing, and cut straight to the point in the hopes of getting this over with as quickly as possible.
"We're leaving."
Phoenix was having none of it. She purred and rubbed her nose against Tai's chest, then licked the side of Yang's face and sniffed at Ruby's hair. Raven watched it all and swallowed the odd lump in her throat.
"Izz-it," Phoenix promised.
Tai patted her nose. "We know you'll try," he said, glancing at Raven.
She walked away and Phoenix had to follow, trotting at her heels and muttering, "Izz-it," one last time. Raven nodded, knowing full-well the meddlesome creature would drag her back to Vale by the scruff if she tried to get out of it. She'd taken to Yang so quickly, always purring and nuzzling her like she was a hatchling rather than a human teenager.
Raven's fists clenched. She pushed through a group of riders, the ones who had agreed to take on the hybrids. Most were veterans who had lost their dragons. A few still had their partners, and had decided to adopt one together. Some were completely new faces, jumping blindly into the task of raising the dragonets.
It made her skin crawl. Phoenix had been one thing, but that? There wasn't a professor in the world who knew any more than they did about the hybrids. How could they possibly trust themselves with that? How could they be sure they wouldn't ruin something so small?
Ghira always used to say it was a sign of a great compromise when everyone involved was bitterly unhappy with the result. That might make this the single greatest compromise Sienna had ever seen—even Blake, who seemed to be the only one who didn't find General Ironwood's suggestion either cruel or pathetically lenient, was clearly uncomfortable with the whole ordeal.
To be fair, there had been quite a lot of people calling for the heads of everyone who had been in the White Fang. Including Jacques Schnee—though after his own children tried to have him arrested for funding Arthur Watts, no one was inclined to take him very seriously. Instead, Sienna and her people were on probation, which was more than she had dared hope for.
And, incidentally, a lot more than Jacques would be facing. Legally, anyway. Sienna had the sense that the looks on his daughters' faces didn't bode well for the man, even if he had gotten little more than a slap on the wrist. It had felt distinctly odd to say that she wished them the best of luck and mean it.
Still. It was hardly a shock that the powerful human had escaped justice. But Sienna, the Lieutenant, and the Albains weren't in prison. The decision was made by a slapdash makeshift Council, made up partly of humans and faunus who had been promoted from lower positions in the old government and partly of Riders and dragons. James himself had pointed out that the majority of the harm they had caused had been to dragons, so the four of them were more or less drafted into taking care of the hybrids that still didn't have riders. They were the ones too dangerous and destructive to be safely moved to a Dragonry, or those who weren't strong enough to survive the trip.
The Albains muttered darkly about humans pawning off the worst jobs as usual, but... it seemed right, to Sienna. Like penance.
"Come on." She coaxed another spoonful of mush into the jaws of a silver dragonet. It ate slowly, whimpering whenever it moved. If she was very lucky, it might keep this meal down. After checking to make sure there weren't any holes in her gloves, she stroked the little creature gently. It was beautiful, with sleek shining scales and mirror-bright eyes. Beautiful and doomed.
Sienna left the room a few minutes later with an uncomfortable leaden feeling in the pit of her stomach. It always reminded her too much of the first dragonet she'd thought would be hers—the one that had died within hours, killed by powers she couldn't control.
Flux noticed her mood and bumped her nose against Sienna's palm. Sienna smiled despite the slight sting, and scratched her gently behind the ears. There was one more dragon left, but before she could move further down the hall, a roar from outside made her ears twitch. She sprinted outside, readying herself for a massacre—
It was Brand. He streaked across the courtyard, barking uncontrollably, towards a towering figure that had just come around a corner and up the hill. Sienna didn't have to see him to know who he was. Not when the fire dragon jumped on him and sprawled onto his side, his tail thumping happily against the grass.
Hazel was technically on probation, too, but they hadn't known where he was. He could have just walked away. She'd had a feeling he wouldn't.
She stood there for a long moment, leaning against the wall of the headquarters building and watching Brand roll around in the grass. In all the time she'd spent around him, she'd never imagined he could get better until he'd shown her.
Suddenly she didn't want to watch anymore. She turned away and headed back inside, stopping in front of the final room. There was a thunderous clang from inside. She winced and eased the door open. In the center of the enormous space, growling, stood the giant. At some point, someone had suggested calling her Big Bertha, and much to Sienna's chagrin the name had stuck.
Bertha wasn't alone. Willow Schnee stood at her feet, clicking her tongue and holding out a fluffy white towel. After staring at her for a long moment, the giant lowered her head and allowed herself to be groomed.
The woman sneered when Sienna and Flux approached. She ignored it, and dropped a gigantic haunch of beef on the ground. The giant tore into it in a frenzy, spattering blood all over Willow's white coat. After a frigid glare, the Schnee turned on her heel and swept out of the room. Bertha stared after her, crunching noisily on a bone. Flux's ears twitched anxiously.
"How are you feeling today?" Sienna asked, though she knew the giant wouldn't understand her. Even other dragons couldn't communicate with her with much precision. James had compared her to the brood dragons. Whether that was because of whatever Watts had done to make her grow to this size or because she'd spent months under his control, no one knew.
Bertha blinked. Even after several days of looking after her, Sienna couldn't help finding the motion a bit creepy. Her eyes weren't quite in sync, and there were far, far too many of them.
"I see Willow hasn't changed," Sienna went on, her voice dry as she fetched water for the metal tub that sat in one corner of the room. Perhaps that was unfair—she might not have liked the plan to kidnap Whitley, but they had still done it. Except she'd seen the woman sending Blake the same chilly looks.
"Paw," Sienna said, and Flux demonstrated the motion for Bertha. After a little coaxing the giant held out her paw, letting Sienna look at the pads underneath her claws. The scales there tended to get rubbed raw, because there were so many toes crowded together, and it seemed like every other day there was a new infection.
They went through the whole checkup step by step, with Flux showing Bertha what to do and Sienna fighting not to let the sickening sensation in her stomach show in her body language. Her right front leg had shifted out of the socket again, and another tooth had fallen out. Her vision had gone from bad to worse.
When they were finished, Sienna held out a hand. As usual, Bertha snorted and backed up a step, so she left without touching her. Then she leaned against the wall and pressed a hand to her forehead, breathing deeply.
She'd assumed the hybrids would be free, now. And some of them were... but many more would be suffering from the Council's recklessness for the rest of their lives.
The White Fang hybrids were all perfectly healthy. Because... because...
Footsteps came around a corner and stopped abruptly. Sienna opened her eyes and felt her insides twist into a knot. Even Jacques Schnee couldn't fill her with so much dread just by walking past—but Pyrrha Nikos could.
"I'm sorry," she blurted. "I just came with some toys for them." She held up a bag between them, as if to put up a barrier.
Sienna nodded stiffly and made to walk past her. But Flux walked over to greet the human, and Pyrrha paused to pat her nose. It made her bristle, and that made her hate herself just a little.
Pyrrha cleared her throat. "It's good to see you here. Ilia says you're good with them."
It felt pathetic, to be a grown woman hating a teenager, but Sienna couldn't seem to stop.
"You know that isn't true," she snapped. "There's no need to remind me."
Green eyes widened, like she couldn't imagine what that was supposed to mean. Maybe she couldn't. That was why things were the way they were, wasn't it? Because she was such a wonderful person.
"They trust you. That means something."
"Not all of them."
"Oh." Pyrrha looked down, like she suddenly found the bag of toys fascinating. "That."
"That."
"She does, you know."
"Does what?"
"Trust you."
Sienna scoffed.
For the first time she could remember, anger flashed in Pyrrha's eyes. "Changing for the better doesn't erase what you did to her. Of course she doesn't trust you like she would have. Of course she can't go back to you like nothing happened." She glanced at Flux, who watched her with wide eyes and flat ears. "But she trusts you to do better this time. That means a lot."
She walked away before Sienna could muster up a response. Flux whimpered and butted her head against her thigh, and she reached down to pat the hybrid's shoulder. It came up past her waist, now.
"I will," she promised.
"No," Whitley said flatly, and scratched out the line Weiss was writing. She scowled and stole his pen.
"Do you have a better idea?"
"Yes. We're not trying to convince the public he shouldn't be heading the SDC. The legal battle over Glacier already did that. We're trying to convince the board, and they don't care about dragons."
"That's precisely the problem!"
A knock at the door. Winter walked in, took one look at the small tornado of papers and files, and sighed. "Have either of you packed yet?"
"My things are in Glacier's saddlebags," Whitley said, without looking up from the textbook he was flipping through.
"I'll do it in a moment." Weiss glanced over his shoulder and scoffed. "Are you seriously trying to add up how much lien he spent funding that monster? That's like calculating how many fluid ounces of arsenic a serial killer slipped into the local well! The quantity isn't the issue!"
"You have to learn to speak their language, sister. If we can prove it was embezzled, that's checkmate."
"We already proved he was an accessory to everything Watts did, and that didn't even make a dent."
Whitley rolled his eyes. "They already know he's immoral. If you want them to care, show them he's losing them money."
Winter cleared her throat pointedly. "Are you two still planning on leaving for Beacon? In an hour?"
"Yes, yes, we're—" Weiss paused. "An hour?"
Whitley blinked and looked at the clock. "Oh."
"Yes. Oh." Winter reached over their heads and closed all the books and folders. "Pack now, start a war with Father later."
In a frantic rush, Weiss gathered up everything she would need in Beacon. She'd gone shopping a few days ago for the basics—shampoo, toothpaste, everything she'd just been borrowing from Atlas Dragonry and missing horribly all the time they were stranded in the wilds. It felt odd to be shoving binders and notebook paper and pens into her luggage.
Stranger still to have spent the past several hours working with Whitley. It was a nice kind of strange, though. She paused, weighing a stapler in her hands, and said, "Thank you. For helping me with this, that is."
He shrugged. "I've spent my whole life preparing to take over. It's what I would have done eventually... just much more aggressive."
"Still." That was true of Winter, too, but she wanted nothing to do with the company. Weiss could understand that—part of her wanted to throw it away, along with all the pain and fear it represented. But she'd promised herself a long time ago to make it hers, and to bring back the company her grandfather had built. The one that had acted responsibly, both on the executive level and... and in research and development.
She dropped the stapler.
"Weiss?"
"I have an idea," she blurted. "Come on. We need to talk to Pietro."
"Who?"
She grabbed Whitley by the hand and pulled him in her wake. "Weiss! Ugh. Just once it might be nice for someone to explain themselves before dragging me around!"
Pietro was in his lab, poring over a line of test tubes. He'd taken saliva samples from all the hybrids who would let him, and from what Penny had said he was hoping to reverse-engineer the formulas that way. It would give them a place to start, but if they really wanted to bring the hybrids back ethically, he'd need a lot more resources than Ironwood could give him.
The door was open, so Weiss knocked on the frame. "Doctor Polendina?"
"Hm?" He turned and broke into a wide smile. "Ah, Miss Schnee!" Then, when Whitley came into view, "And young Mister Schnee."
"Hello," Whitley said. "Who are you?"
"Whitley," Weiss hissed under her breath.
"If you didn't want me to ask, you should have told me."
"He's the one who built Penny," Weiss said quickly, "and he'll be in charge of bringing back the hybrids."
"Er, yes." Pietro's brow furrowed. "And you... aren't you supposed to be on your way to Beacon?"
"Yes, but—!" Weiss took a deep breath and looked at Whitley. "We need to convince the board to drop Father, right? And we can do that by proving he acted against the company's best interest, but there's another angle we haven't considered. Showing that we can make things better without him."
Whitley stared at her. "So?"
"So, the SDC is on the verge of losing its injection contracts with all the major Dragonries—and Pietro has to rely on Ironwood for funding, which is already stretched thin enough as it is dealing with the recent Grimm surge."
Weiss turned to Pietro. "Sir... what if we offered you a position as the head of research and development? You'd have access to whatever resources you needed, and we could get the company away from our Father before he has the chance to find another Watts. He wants patents for new dragons, badly, and if we don't do something about him he's going to treat it as a competition between him and whoever else is researching the hybrids."
Whitley blinked. "That's... actually not a terrible idea."
"Thank you for your overwhelming support."
Pietro hummed thoughtfully. "It is tempting. At this rate we'll be hard-pressed to work out what went into the hybrids already hatched within the next few decades. But I don't know about having such strong ties to the SDC."
"We'll make sure to keep your research free of obstructions—" Weiss started to say, then cut off with a glare when Whitley elbowed her.
"Honestly, Weiss," he scoffed. "This is not the time to be using the honor system." Then, to Pietro, "We'll have to work out some kind of contract that will be agreeable to both parties, and make sure it includes Father's resignation and your autonomy. Our best bet is probably to have you as a semi-independent contractor, but the general public will balk at that if we don't make it clear that we're to be held accountable if you turn out to be a serial killer."
"Whitley."
"What? He's not a serial killer and we're not planning on hoarding dragon patents, but it's not as if someone who doesn't know us will trust that."
Pietro chuckled. "You two are going to make an interesting team, aren't you?"
Weiss was already starting to miss the Grimm. And, much more than that...
"Thank you, Doctor Polendina. We'll keep in touch—but, um, we are actually supposed to be on our way to Beacon right now."
"Of course." He smiled. "I look forward to working with you."
They made a mad dash for the courtyard. Weiss left behind a few things she'd planned to pack, like the stapler, but all of a sudden she couldn't stand the thought of delaying even another second to get them. Only one thing was important enough to delay their departure—a tiny passenger that crawled in under her coat.
In five minutes, they were standing in the destroyed courtyard outside the former Council Headquarters. In fifteen, she was in the air with her team, and Glacier and Ragnar, on the way back to Beacon. And in four hours, they were circling overhead. Nostalgia hit Weiss like a ton of bricks.
"It looks the same," Blake murmured, as the four of them dismounted on Beacon's wide, sweeping lawns.
Weiss shivered, only partly because of the hatchling she was coaxing out of her jacket. She was the same one that Watts had brought with him, the one with the aura of killing cold. It turned out she could turn it down, but not off, and carrying her had felt like holding a lump of ice against her chest. Weiss suspected that might be why Ironwood hadn't been able to find a rider for her yet.
She hopped free and paced around with her nose in the air. The grass around her went stiff and brittle, and cracked under her paws as she raced off towards the main building. Three more soon leaped down from her teammates' arms and followed her. Weiss stared at the distant throng of dragons and riders, elementals and hybrids, fully grown dragons and tiny hatchlings all racing around the campus together.
It really did look the same. Different faces, different dragons, even more chaos, which Weiss hadn't thought was possible... but the same feeling in the air.
A series of thumps heralded the arrival of JNPR and SSSN. "Is it just me," Sun said, "or is this weird?"
Weiss made a face. "It's definitely not just you."
It had only been a few months, but it felt like a lifetime ago that she'd last walked across this field. There was the cliff, and the endless sea of the Emerald forest, serene and unchanged. The last time she'd seen them like this had been during their frantic midnight flight.
Weiss tried to sneak a surreptitious glance at Pyrrha without her noticing, to make sure she was doing alright. Ten other people tried the same thing at the same time, which ruined any chance of stealth.
Pyrrha sighed. "Let's just find Prof—um, Dragonmaster Goodwitch?"
None of them really knew what to call her, now. She was handling all the administrative tasks a Dragonmaster normally would—because, "Someone has to do it, and it certainly won't be Qrow,"—but Ragnar was just as much a part of decision making for the Dragonry as she was. Not to mention, she was also enrolled as a student while training Cumulus.
Weiss was even less certain of her own status, right now. They were still technically first years, but it wouldn't make much sense for them to go back to learning how to take off from various ramps when they'd already been flying in combat for months. Not to mention that there were far more dragons and riders this year than was normal for Beacon, which meant Professor Goodwitch had asked them to pitch in occasionally to help with teaching the hybrids.
It was going to be a mess, and that wasn't even getting into the upcoming fight over the SDC. Part of her was almost nostalgic for their days in the woods. But there was something electrifying about it, too—after all this time putting their sweat and blood into keeping things from getting worse, they could finally start making the world better instead.
Tai stood at the front of a massive room, staring out at a sea of expectant faces. The silence stretched.
God, why had he thought this was a good idea? He could barely get out of bed these days, why had he promised to teach?
Tempest snorted and pressed her nose against his back. At the same time, a student near the back of the room gave him a thumbs-up. He was one of the four that had come to learn from Tai and Qrow, when Beacon was still under the Council's control. The boy with the earth dragon. The one Quake had liked.
Tai took a deep breath and said, "So. This is normally when I'd start you all out with a nice, simple earth-style obstacle course. But, uh..."
He glanced around the room, his eyes passing from dragon to dragon. One was an earth and water hybrid almost as big as Tempest, for whom the usual obstacle course would be utterly trivial. Another was earth and fire, hatched just yesterday from the clutch of eggs that had been in Watts' lab, and much too small to handle an ordinary lesson. No two were alike.
"Yeah." Tai mustered up a wry grin. "We're gonna have to improvise. So! Let's start off with some simple commands, just to get used to working together in class. Everybody stand about ten feet away from your partner, and practice calling them to you."
He leaned against Tempest's shoulder to watch, satisfied, until he noticed a pair of hybrids standing off to one side, watching him with their heads cocked. Neither seemed to have a rider. One, an earth and wind hybrid, sat in the middle of the room. Both his left legs were missing below the knee. The other didn't even seem like she was supposed to be in here—she was a fire and lightning mix, Tai was pretty sure. She certainly had the slitted eyes.
"Uh..."
The little one squeaked.
The big one huffed out a breath and struggled painfully to his feet. A pair of makeshift prosthetics were attached to his stumps, and he wobbled slowly over to his... partner? Then he sat down heavily, panting, and the little one chirped and licked his nose. Then she trotted away, her tail twitching, and waited.
He barked. She scrambled over and jumped on his back, overbalancing him and sending them both toppling in a heap.
"Great. Well. Carry on," Tai said awkwardly, giving each of them a pat on the head. He winced slightly when he touched the fire and lightning hybrid—she wasn't quite hot enough to burn, but it was close.
From there he circled around to the back of the room, where he found Tumbleweed sitting alone. "I guess this is pretty old news for you, huh?" Tai said. The pit dragon bobbed his head.
At a glance, the big earth and water hybrid seemed like he was having some trouble with the basic commands. But Tai noticed his old student and his hatchling were both looking bored. "Why don't you keep that one entertained?" he suggested, giving Tumbleweed a pat on the shoulder. His tail perked up and he ambled over. Within minutes he and the little one were play-fighting, with Tumbleweed falling dramatically to the floor whenever he was 'defeated'.
The lesson went on like that. Tai would give the whole group something to do, then find the ones who were struggling or bored and pair them off so that they could get the most out of the lesson. He made a mental note to talk to Glynda later about sorting the hybrids by age rather than element, at least when they weren't working directly with their powers.
By the time they finished he was exhausted and sweaty, and strangely satisfied. When he opened the door to the classroom, he almost tripped over Ruby and Yang.
"Dad!" Ruby jumped on him, and startled a laugh out of him for the first time in almost a week.
"Hey, kiddo."
"Sorry we're a little late," Yang added. "How was your first class?"
"Weird," he admitted. "Hard to figure out what to do with a group that's got hatchlings and old veterans in it."
Ruby grinned nervously. "Heh, yeah. Wish me luck?"
Tai blinked. "You're teaching?"
"Sorta. Me and Ren and Scarlet are doing a group meeting thing after classes. There's a lot of hybrids that have disabilities from hatching, or the battle. We thought it would be good to have a group where they can learn how to work with them."
"Plus, now we can get them gear that would help," Yang added. "Like goggles for Nimbus."
Tai thought of the young hybrid struggling with the two prosthetics. If he could have access to something like what James had...
He wrapped an arm around each of his daughters and hugged them. "I'm so proud of you two."
Ruby squirmed. Yang rested her chin on his shoulder and said, "We're proud of you too, dad."
A shadow fell over them, as Tempest coiled up right there in the hallway and purred against their backs. Tai drew back and wiped his eyes. "Alright," he said brightly, though there was a lump in his throat. "Let's get the heck out of the way before the little rascals start climbing over us."
Storm had thought this new group would be a lot like their classes—maybe with older dragons coming around and talking to them, and giving them exercises and things to do. Ruby said that was what it would be like, eventually, but today the main thing was finding dragons that would need things like goggles, or prosthetics, or even surgery, and getting measurements and things like that. Which meant it was a little bit like the doctor's appointments she'd been going to every so often since the Council had fallen, to check on her wing. Except that there were dozens of dragons around and only a few of the doctors, so most of their time was spent playing with each other.
She bounded up to Tallow and tackled him onto the grass, yelping when he rolled onto her tail. He was heavy, now. He barked and squirmed around on his back, purring and sniffing the grass.
"Are you feeling okay?" Storm asked him, when he sneezed and let out a little puff of fire. He purred some more and wiggled his legs until Ruby walked over and scratched his belly. That was as close to a yes as she was going to get—he hadn't been able to talk before, and the devices definitely didn't help. Some of the grown hybrids could still only chirp and squeak like hatchlings, even though they were bigger than her.
She moved on when Tallow snapped playfully at a nearby hybrid, and the two of them started wrestling. Most of the group seemed happy, even the ones who still hadn't found riders, or had decided they didn't want them. Dusk bobbed her head at her as she passed. Beside her, Diver caught a small hybrid under the belly before he could fall over.
Storm caught a flash of movement and turned to find a wind dragon about her age, shuffling his wings and inching closer to the group. She squinted at his rider, who looked oddly familiar...
She leaned out from behind his shoulder, so that her face and hat came into view. It was May—Storm hadn't realized they'd let her come back to Vale. She barked a greeting. The dragon perked up and raced over, his wings flaring on either side. She winced at the sight of the joints bending in ways they definitely shouldn't, scared that they might break if he kept moving so fast.
Finally he reached her and sat down heavily on his haunches, breathing hard. "Hi," he said. "I'm Flurry."
His rider stayed hidden behind him.
"Hey there!" Ruby said, giving him a pat on the neck. "Are you new?"
"Um." May poked her head around his shoulder. "Hi."
"Oh. Hey!" Ruby's eyes widened. She glanced over her shoulder—but Ragnar wasn't there. He'd visited in the beginning, but had to leave soon after. Maybe this was why. "Are you staying in Beacon now?"
May shook her head frantically. "No! No. I'm taking a shuttle back to Atlas tomorrow. I just came out here to meet Flurry." At the sound of his name, he perked up and nuzzled her side. She hugged him around the head and took a deep breath. "It's been a while since..."
Ruby made a pained noise.
"But it's okay!" May winced. "I mean, it will be. Eventually. R-ragnar vouched for me, and I've been, um... pardoned. Mostly. I'm not allowed to carry anymore, but I didn't really want to anyway."
"Y-yeah." Ruby shot Storm a panicked look. She whined.
"So." May shifted from foot to foot. "I, um... they told me I should make an appointment with a doctor, to see what they can do for Flurry. But he doesn't like tight spaces anymore, so they said I should come here to get it done outside."
"Oh, right!" Ruby glanced at his wings. "Sure, we can set that up for you!"
Within minutes, Flurry was being poked and prodded by one of the doctors. It was lucky they didn't need to draw any blood, because he spent the whole appointment eyeing the needles distrustfully.
Later, once the group lesson was over, Ruby patted Storm's neck and said, "Your turn."
She huffed. Storm would much rather have her appointment out in the open like this, and eventually she probably would—but the doctors were only out here for so long, and most of the hybrids wouldn't go anywhere near a lab or anything that looked a little like one. They couldn't even call them doctors without getting everyone's hackles up—though a lot of them weren't, anyway. Technically most of them were in training under field surgeons for dragons out fighting Grimm, or doctors that normally worked on humans, since the sudden surge of hybrids combined with the new laws about caring for injured or handicapped dragons meant there was suddenly a lot more demand for them.
Anyway, Storm could go to see them in their labs, so that was what she had to do. She grumbled under her breath as she padded into the large room in the infirmary that was set up for dragon patients. Apparently it was easier for them to work in here—something about keeping things sterile, which seemed to mean lots of white walls and nasty chemical smells.
"Hello again, Storm."
Her ears, which had been pinned flat against her skull, relaxed slightly. These doctors were mostly nice, at least, and this one offered her a treat to chew on while they examined her wing.
"You know the drill. Let me know as soon as you feel any pain." Hands curled under her wing, lifting it higher and higher. Storm's tail started to twitch. She hated this part, and the stabbing pain that always ran from the joint all the way to her wingtip. So she sat, waiting, her ears getting flatter and flatter as she braced herself...
The doctor stopped lifting. "Still comfortable?"
Storm barked. Why had they stopped in the middle this time?
"Alright. Why don't you try lifting it now?"
She hesitated, remembering all the times she'd accidentally tried to flare her wings on instinct, and the horrible pain that had come after. Slowly, gingerly, she twitched her bad wing.
Nothing happened.
She lifted it partway, so that the sling wasn't supporting it anymore. Still no pain.
"That's good, that's very good." The doctor picked up a huge pair of scissors, and Storm balked. "Easy, easy!" They put the scissors down. "I'm sorry, I should have warned you first—I'm going to cut the sling off now, alright? You don't need it anymore."
Storm stared at the doctor. They reached for the scissors again, and this time she let them approach and start clipping away at the sling. It had been there for so long, now, she hardly remembered what it had felt like not to have something tied around her like that. Ruby watched, bouncing up and down on the tips of her toes, as the last of the stiff fabric fell away.
"Alright. Let's see that beauty, shall we?"
She could hardly believe what she was hearing. Her wing twitched and unfurled partway, and she felt the first twinge of pain. Not the stabbing kind she was used to, though—more like when they'd been flying with weights and her chest would ache afterwards.
"A little stiffness is normal," the doctor assured her. "Keep going until you feel a sharp pain."
Her left wing stretched out until it brushed the far wall. Fully extended, the light above shone through the membranes and cast a dappled half-shadow on the floor. Ruby squealed and threw herself at Storm's neck, burying her face in her scales.
The doctor peeled off their gloves and stepped back. "I'd say it's time to start reconditioning it."
"Like with flying?" Ruby burst out, her eyes huge with excitement. Storm's ears perked up. Surely that wasn't what they meant... right?
They narrowed their eyes. "Gentle flying. No fancy tricks just yet, and no rider. But the wound's healed enough that you won't reopen it whenever you flap the wing, which means now is the crucial time for you to make sure you're stretching the muscles. I'll give you some exercises to help with flexibility, but nothing's going to be as important as flight."
Ruby flailed her hands. "Oh my gosh! We're gonna—let's go do that! Right now!"
Without even glancing up from the chart they were holding, the doctor reached out and grabbed her by the back of her jacket. "In a moment. I need to actually give you those exercises first."
Five endless minutes later, the pair of them came tearing out of the infirmary, barking and whooping and roaring and laughing until they were both breathless. Storm would have taken off right then, if the doctor hadn't warned them to start out on the ramps. Something about the strain of takeoff, Storm hadn't been paying attention.
She galloped around a corner, almost bowling over Harpy and startling the rest of team JNPR.
"We're cleared!" Ruby shouted. It took a second for it to register, but a second later Jaune let out a delighted cheer and all four of them started running alongside Storm. The commotion drew SSSN's attention a moment later. Sun stood up in Huo's saddle, hollering at the top of his lungs.
"What's going on?!" Pit poked his head out of the earth stable, his head twisting back and forth like he was looking for a threat. Storm dashed up to him and grabbed him by the scruff, tugging him bodily out into the open air. Jade followed, warbling in alarm. Fang was only a few dozen feet away in the fire stable, and ambled out with his eyes gummed partway shut.
"I was sleeping," he grumbled. "What's—"
"I'm cleared!" Storm jumped on him, then leaped off. She flared her wings to glide back to the ground. Her heart skipped as the wind caught her for just a second, and without another backwards glance she set off in a dead sprint, right towards the ramps.
Specter was halfway between the school and the fields, chatting with Glacier and Steele. He looked up at all the noise, his head fins ruffling up in fear. Then his eyes went wide as Storm spread out her wings and let them trail behind her, cutting through the wind and making a wonderful whistling sound. He hopped from foot to foot, too excited to get his paws underneath him, then came bounding at her side, barking up a frenzy.
Her heart was pounding when they finally made it to the ramps. Storm locked her eyes on the nearest one, her back legs tensing. She shot up the grassy slope. There was a flicker of fear—what if she didn't remember how to do it? What if she fell and hurt herself even worse?
But the end of the ramp came up before she could think, and it was like no time had passed. Her wings swept up, her hind legs pushed down, and she hurled herself into the wind.
Time seemed to slow, and all the noise and chaos of the ground fell away. She savored the sharp snap of air filling her wings. The sudden feeling of weightlessness as she reached the peak of her jump. Even the slight twinge of pain on her first downstroke, as Beacon Dragonry shrank beneath her. Her eyes fluttered closed.
There came a triumphant cry from just beside her. When she looked, Ruby was standing up in Jade's saddle, waving both arms and shouting into the wind. Storm called back, dipping into a wide turn that sent her sweeping past Specter and Fang, then ducked under Pit's outstretched wings.
Huo and Harpy dove playfully at her. She darted between them, sailed over Guang and Nimbus, then flew wingtip-to-wingtip with Twiggy. Nymph sped past her, showing her a thermal that carried them both high into the air. Freya and Zircon followed, spiraling around her and Jade as they struck out over the Dragonry.
Storm could see everything from up here. Hybrids playing on the wide lawns, Ragnar perched at the top of the tower, even a few older students flying over the Emerald Forest. Suddenly it was all real—their flight from Beacon, Cinder's betrayal, the final fight with the Council. The worry and fear of months of running and hiding fell away, bit by bit, leaving her as light as the wisps of cloud that passed beneath her.
She turned her head, and met Ruby's shining eyes. Her heart swelled. Tomorrow had become such a scary thing, once Beacon fell—but somehow all those tomorrows had gotten them here. Now tomorrow meant more Riders to bond with the lost hybrids, more hatchlings born into a world that would never cull them, more doctors learning to take care of dragons even when they couldn't fight Grimm anymore.
Tomorrow Storm would fly again, and the next day and the next until she was strong enough to carry Ruby again. And it was still unknown, still a little scary... but more than anything, it was hopeful. She couldn't wait to get started.
