AN: The story may seem very short-paced right now, but I've actually been building up important background information in the past few chapters and will continue to do so for a while longer. That being said, I wonder if any of you will be able to put the pieces together and be able to accurately predict where the story is going from here...
Dear Ozone,
Ever since your tribe's visit, things have gone back to boring normality. Getting up early, training, etc. Kulta says that was only to be expected, but Tumbleweed and I are both disappointed by the lack of liveliness. Our soldiers-in-training actually put a lot of time and effort into preparing that meeting with all of you, and now that the big event has come and gone, falling back into our old routine is hard.
Not that we really need to go back to our old routine. Sometimes dealing with all the formality can be tedious, especially considering the tribes haven't been at war in years. I'd like to think that we're at least a bit more civilized than the big dragons give us credit for! Honestly, we got through a whole day of being crowded together and no one started planning world domination yet, right?
Tumbleweed is giving me a disapproving face as she not-so-subtly reads what I'm writing over my shoulder. Is it too soon to make jokes about how SandWings seem to always start the big conflicts? Tell me what you think.
Your friend, Jackal
Dear Jackal,
Settling into our old schedule wasn't as big of an event as it seems to have been in the Sand Kingdom, but it does seem strange how no one really mentions it. In the months we've been training together, we haven't been on an outing like that before, but it doesn't seem to have made a lasting impression on any of the other dragonets.
I still haven't asked Claret about going to Possibility, since I've been doing a lot of flying off after training lately, and I don't want to pester her with too many requests around the same time. I like being by myself sometimes. It helps clear my head.
I can see the humor in world-domination themed jokes, but it does seem a little too soon. Maybe wait until all the grumpy old generals like Spark retire? I don't know if I mentioned him the other day, but he's my other supervisor besides Claret. He has a lot of experience, so you learn a lot talking to him, but he can be awfully prejudiced. He's also a little deaf, so he might not pick up your joking tone.
Your friend, Ozone
Dear Ozone,
So you speak up at last! I guess you write more readily than you talk. That's understandable, I suppose. Tumbleweed does have a tendency to run her mouth and drown out all the other voices in any conversation she happens to participate in. And before you ask the obvious question here—how I can get away with slandering her like that—she's out hunting right now, not snooping over my shoulder. One point for me!
Take all the time you need! I think it's better to wait until the novelty of letter-writing has worn off anyway. After we all go visit Possibility together, everything else will probably seem pretty lackluster by comparison. For now, though, I have to admit it is rather entertaining to imagine your serious face as you reply with the utmost sincerity to my joking tone.
Flying clears your head, huh? I know quiet dragons are deeper than they seem, but I never would have guessed you have so much in your mind that it gets cluttered!
Ah, I've never been too good at avoiding anyone's sensitivities with my jokes. Kulta warns me that my tendency towards inappropriate humor is going to earn me a barb to the face one day, but I know she doesn't really hate me, so she'll step in to save my neck if that becomes necessary. Reassuring, right? I suppose you don't really have that problem, though. You're much too quiet to accidentally offend someone!
Your friend, Jackal
Dear Jackal,
Sorry if it seems like I don't talk much. I'm always so thoroughly lost in thought that I don't always realize I never respond to half the comments I want to! Writing is easier, because if I spend all my time just thinking, there's not enough on the paper to send. I guess I just follow my train of thought.
Actually, about offending dragons... Gale was furious with me when we came back from the inter-tribal meeting. I guess she took out her anger at the unsatisfactory results of your fight with her out on me. I hate to be pessimistic about anything, but I look at the quarreling among my own tribe and sometimes wonder how the whole world can stay at peace when there's so much fighting every day.
Sorry if I got a little too serious-faced in your imagination there. It's just that for some reason, you strike me as someone who would understand. Sard's funny, but I don't think she really gets me as much as I'd like to pretend sometimes, so I don't even bother trying to tell her this kind of thing.
Your friend, Ozone
Ozone,
No worries—I know how to deal with quiet dragons! You're a bit like a more openly friendly version of Kulta, actually. She doesn't laugh much, but she'll smile at me when I joke around sometimes, like she just can't help it. You're probably surprised to hear that you have anything in common with Kulta, but you do—really! She might seem a little scary sometimes, but she's really loyal and surprisingly dedicated to the utopian future of Pyrrhia everyone dreams of.
What do you see when you think of the future, Ozone? You seem like an idealist, and I'm curious to see if your vision is anything like ours.
It's interesting how you sometimes get along better with dragons outside your tribe than your peers, isn't it? I have Tumbleweed and Kulta for decent company (I'm kidding, of course—they're the best!), but I couldn't feel more distant from the rest of my fellow soldiers. Sometimes the idea of a tribe being made up of only dragons who look like you and have the same skills as you seems ludicrous to me. Do you ever feel the same way, Ozone?
Jackal
Ozone still wasn't entirely sure why he'd decided to open up to Jackal so much, but as he read the most recent letter the SandWing had sent him, he was glad that he'd decided to. Telling Cornice about the incident with Gale hadn't relieved the burden the way he'd expected it to, and he'd found himself looking for someone to share the heart of his worries with. Jackal, who'd been nothing but humorous since the day they'd met, hadn't seemed like the perfect dragon to unload his worries to, but something about the blank paper—knowing that the SandWing's fathomless black eyes would eventually take in whatever he wrote—compelled him to fill the emptiness between them with words, the same way Cornice's sharp blue gaze did.
Ozone wasn't sure he knew what Jackal was talking about. He hadn't ever really felt limited by having only SkyWings in his troops. But the more he thought about it, the more he realized that Jackal was right. In a perfect world, he could train with Jackal and Tumbleweed and Kulta instead, and no one would find their friendship strange.
Not the way Sard did, wrinkling her snout whenever she found Ozone curled up with a letter from his SandWing friend. She never commented on the frequency of their communication—every day, Ozone either sent or received a letter through the MudWing who acted as their messenger—but he could tell it irked her, simply because Jackal was a SandWing. A potentially dangerous outsider.
She would look at Cornice that way, too, if she knew he existed.
I should check on him, Ozone decided. It had been several days since he'd taught the IceWing the necessary stretches to relieve stiffness in his muscles, and Cornice was probably immensely bored. Besides, the longer Ozone sat there, the more he could feel his thoughts turning uncharacteristically bitter. He needed to clear his head. He'd write back to Jackal later, when he'd have more time for a thoughtful response.
When he arrived at the cave, Cornice nodded in greeting.
"I was wondering when I'd see you again," he told Ozone. "I've been using your stretches to strengthen my wing, and I finally feel ready to fly again. But, um, I was wondering if you'd come with me... just in case I'm wrong and I start falling out of the sky." He rubbed the back of his neck below his mane of spikes, and Ozone could tell that the IceWing was embarrassed to be asking, torn between pride and practicality.
"Of course," he responded lightly. To him, it wasn't a big deal.
"I'm sure everything will be fine, though," Cornice went on, an edge of his usual bravado returning to his voice. He lifted his chin proudly.
"I'm sure it will," Ozone said agreeably. The IceWing shot him a suspicious look, and Ozone gazed back with guileless orange eyes. "Are you ready?"
Cornice gave a sharp nod.
"Okay," Ozone responded, trying (and probably failing) to match the IceWing's confidence. While he knew in theory how restoring a dragon to flight worked, actually using the information was something very different. "I'll go first so that I'm already in the air to catch you if anything goes wrong, and I'll let you know when to follow."
"Fine," Cornice agreed, but Ozone thought he saw a faint glimpse of nervousness glittering behind the cool look in the other dragon's blue eyes.
I hope those stretches did the trick, Ozone thought worriedly. I hope I don't just accidentally make Cornice's injuries worse by letting him fly before he's ready. With his claws curled around the edge of the cave floor, the ground looked very far below him. Falling wasn't something most dragons feared, but without fully-functional wings, the jagged rocks beneath him looked like enormous, deadly teeth.
He leapt into the air, feeling relieved when the wind caught him like it always did. He angled his wings to glide, testing the breeze. The mountains on either side of them created a wind tunnel, so the gusting air felt steady and strong beneath his wings.
"All right," he called to Cornice. "You can come out now!"
The white dragon stuck his head out of the cave, his wings partially extended to feel the air currents. After holding them out tentatively for a moment, he disappeared back into the cavern. Ozone had only a moment to wonder what he was doing before the IceWing came racing back towards the mouth of the cave and launched himself, with a running start, straight into the wind.
Ozone's heart lurched as the white dragon plummeted, but Cornice's wings soon caught the breeze and held him aloft. With a few surprisingly steady flaps, he rose to the same height as Ozone, who had been hovering anxiously nearby.
"You did it!" he called to Cornice, and flew a triumphant loop-de-loop in the air.
Cornice wrinkled his snout at the SkyWing's acrobatics. "Nope, definitely not trying that anytime soon."
Feeling light with relief, Ozone barked a laugh. "Come on, let's keep flying for a while. I'll show you some of the Sky Kingdom."
Cornice nodded in agreement. "If I've really left the Ice Kingdom behind forever, it's time I started to see the rest of the world."
Ozone flew up higher in the air, looking around to make sure that there were no other dragons in sight. He'd believed Cornice when he'd said that he didn't want any trouble, but his fellow SkyWings might be more suspicious. To his relief, the sky around them seemed completely empty. Still, it might be safer to fly above the thick cloud cover the universe had given them today, though Ozone would have to be careful to make sure Cornice didn't struggle in the thinner air.
Ozone led the way higher by catching an updraft with his wings. He couldn't help but close his eyes for a moment as he felt the breeze ruffle through his ears and stir his wings. Flying through the mountains was something he'd never get enough of.
Ozone twisted in midair to look back at Cornice, who was flying a considerable distance behind him. In direct light, Cornice's white scales glittered, not as harshly as sunbeams reflected by ice, but more softly—like moonlight on freshly-fallen snow. His brows were furrowed in concentration at first, but his scowl lessened as he managed to fly along for a while without falling. As Ozone watched him, he glanced off at the range of mountains on the horizon, some untouchable emotion glistening in his gaze.
He's probably glad to feel the wind under his wings again, Ozone thought with a smile. Or is that something that only SkyWings love? He couldn't imagine not getting a thrill every time he took flight, not relishing in the feeling of the air holding him aloft and the sight of trees far below, diminished to specks by their immense distance.
Following the IceWing's gaze, he saw something white shining on the horizon. That must be the edges of the Ice Kingdom, he realized. Cornice must miss it, even if he tries to pretend otherwise. I wonder what made him leave.
This wasn't the first time he'd been curious about Cornice's past, but he shoved away his desire to ask any questions. If Cornice didn't want to talk about it, it wasn't his place to ask. Ozone had offered to help, and he didn't like the thought of being a dragon who helped only if he got something in return—in this case, answers.
As they ascended through the clouds, Ozone felt airy wetness kiss his scales. He turned around to see how Cornice was faring, and saw that the droplets of condensation on his scales only made him sparkle even more beautifully.
Cornice gave a surprised-sounding laugh. "We look like we've just come out of the ocean. I didn't expect to get so wet flying through clouds!"
"They look soft and warm from the ground," Ozone agreed, "but they're actually wet and cold, like a very thick fog. My dragonet self was very surprised the first time I flew up this high." He smiled at the memory.
"How old were you?" Cornice asked. When Ozone glanced at him, he was a little surprised to find the IceWing deep in thought, as if trying to picture the scene.
"About two or three," he responded. "SkyWings learn to fly at a younger age than most other tribes, but we don't have enough stamina to get up this high until later. The air is thinner here, so you have to flap harder. Speaking of which—how do you feel?"
Cornice was breathing a little heavily, but his wing beats were steady. "Fine."
Ozone wasn't sure if that was really the truth. From what he'd seen of Cornice, the ice dragon could be proud and a little defensive at times. He probably wouldn't tell Ozone there was anything wrong unless he was actively falling out of the sky. "Still," the SkyWing said in a neutral voice, "we probably shouldn't stay up here much longer. You can fly again, but you still don't want to push yourself too hard."
Cornice snorted. "I've pushed myself harder before."
He's hard to figure out, Ozone thought. His words and tone make it seem like he dismisses what I'm saying, but I know he has been listening. He didn't fly off before he was ready, and he's been doing the stretches I taught him. Is it possible that he values my opinion more than he wants to admit? As far as he knew, no one had ever asked for or really cared about his opinion before—even the dragons who liked him.
That's probably because I'm not confident enough, he realized. But confidence is not something I can force myself to have.
He flew in slow circles as he thought, absentmindedly watching as Cornice tested the strength of his wing by performing small dives and banking turns.
"All right," the white dragon said at last. "I guess I'm ready to go back now."
Ozone glanced at his face and saw that he was clenching his jaw a little. Whether he was willing to admit it or not, Cornice was starting to tire. After going for such a long time without flying, he'd need to build up his stamina again.
Ozone nodded and obligingly angled his wings to fly below the cloud cover again. Cornice followed more slowly, and when Ozone glanced back at him, he saw that the ice dragon's flying had become a bit wobbly. He was favoring his uninjured wing, making him tilt ever-so-slightly to the left.
As they descended to the cave, the tilt became steadily more pronounced until Ozone shifted to support the injured wing with the wind from his own flapping. Cornice shot him an embarrassed yet grateful look.
They parachuted their wings to land in the mouth of the cave, and Ozone couldn't help feeling relieved when they both touched down safely. He wanted to help Cornice as much as he could, and that meant taking risks here and there, but he always worried that the other dragon would get hurt and that he'd feel responsible.
"How does your wing feel?" he asked, turning to Cornice and studying the patch of snowy-white scales, unbroken apart from a faint blue line that was probably a scar.
"Decent," the IceWing answered, flexing it experimentally. He didn't wince, but his eyes did harden ever-so-slightly, and Ozone guessed that movement was still a little painful. "Everything was going well until I started listing to the side towards the end."
"Still, at least that means the stretches have been working," Ozone pointed out optimistically. "I wasn't one hundred percent sure they were."
Cornice smacked him with his good wing. "I'm not one hundred percent sure it was a good idea to put my faith in you." His cold aura felt especially chilling against the water droplets still clinging to Ozone's scales.
Ozone wasn't entirely certain he'd been joking, but it was hard not to laugh at the other dragonet's retort. He ducked his head to hide his amusement.
Cornice seemed to notice it anyway, glancing sideways at Ozone with a hint of something like contempt in his eyes. Their gazes caught each other, and the harshness in Cornice's eyes faded as they held Ozone's for a long moment. Then the IceWing shook his mane as if ridding himself of an annoying insect and looked away.
"I've been doing those dumb stretches every day since you taught them to me," he said. "If I'd known you were probably wasting my time..."
"I wasn't," Ozone reminded him. "There's no stiffness anymore, right?"
"I suppose you're right," Cornice sniffed. "Congratulate yourself if you must." He glanced at Ozone again—very briefly, as if looking for something, and the SkyWing could tell that he was at least half-joking this time.
Ozone laughed, and Cornice's eyebrows lifted as if he'd been pleasantly surprised.
He wasn't sure when it had happened, but somewhere along the way, Ozone had come to think of Cornice as his friend.