A/N: This chapter is more a continuation of the previous one as I did not want to post something too long. Thanks for the great reviews and your support and if you have any comments good/bad feel free to post them as a review or pm me and I will reply :)!

Dragon Games

When they reached the city centre where the palace stood Tristan was in a fool mood. Tall pine trees circled the building in front of them, exotic colourful flowers and bushes grew in and around, and the palace itself was a place of beauty. Despite himself he let out a whistle of appreciation. The gates of the palace opened in order to greet them and they passed structures much taller than the dragons until they reached the centre which was an open garden. Again, Tristan realised the architecture of the palace was one of a circle, with buildings built all around to give way to the open yard.

Individual structures were also built to accommodate dragons-no more than ten-and there were stables for steeds and mounts. Already two dragons stood inside those structures, happily gulping down water. As soon as they heard them approaching, the elder dragons paused and walked forward. They stared at the group no doubt examining the wounds of the other two dragons and growled loudly when they stared at the three eggs that were strapped on Gijnard's back.

"Hellsfire!" the female human rider bellowed as she run to Melor's side and gently touched his dragon's scales which were damaged and dirty. The elven rider watched carefully and he pressed his lips tightly together.

Stoic and Melor unstrapped Kayla from the other dragon's back and the human rider took the eggs gently in her lap, tears running down her face. The elf put a comforting hand on her shoulder and then walked to Kayla's side. Tristan approached them as well, his blue dragon sniffing the air inquiringly.

"Do you know what's wrong with her?" he dared ask, as he gazed at the still form of his sister.

The elf knelt on the ground and touched Kayla's brow. He was deep in concentration for a long time until he exhaled loudly and opened his eyes.

"She is alive but… I do not know when she will wake. The magic she used took quite a hard toll on her body. We warned her about the consequences but she did not listen" he said and pressed his lips even tighter together than before. The purple dragon let out a small wail and gently nudged its head against Kayla's hipbones.

"At least that has improved" the elf commented as a group of magicians and other elves came to carry his sister, taking her to a nearby wooden structure in the middle of the garden. The elven and human rider stood next to the injured dragons and started reciting words of the ancient language together. Holes in the wing membranes of the dragons healed, the skin stitching itself back together and cuts were dried blood stood, were wiped clean. Soon Gijnard and Stoic's dragon were as good as new and they walked inside their individual structures where water and roast meat stood.

The aroma of the food reached Tristan's nose and he heard his stomach growling. He watched as the two dragons devoured the cuts of meat, bones, skin and ligaments disappearing from his view. His grey-blue dragon sniffed, hunger radiating from it and its tongue was pulled out on the side.

The riders walked close to a water fountain in the centre of the garden and they sat on the green, cool ground, resting their backs and washing their faces on the cold water. Tristan repeated what they had done but his dragon slipped from the fountain's edge and fell inside the water. Amusement radiated from it and it jumped out of the water, shaking its wings and spraying everyone with water droplets.

Tristan smiled and rubbed his dragon's chin, a purring sound emitting from it and the creature half closed its eyes.

"Is this you dragon?" a small voice came from behind and Tristan turned around to look who it was. A young dwarven boy stood, no more than 14 years of age. He reached Tristan's waist in height and he had bright ginger hair. His cheeks were round and red and some ginger fluff covered the sides. He had a clever expression fixed upon his face.

"Yes, yes it is" Tristan replied proudly and rubbed his dragon's belly once again as the creature emitted more pouring sounds.

"My dragon, Fiord is there in the corner" the dwarf boy said pointing at an orange dragon, four times the size of Tristan's who sat near the fountain, drinking water. "Your dragon is beautiful. Isn't his colour similar to Saphira's? How you do call him?"

"I wouldn't know, I have never seen the elder dragon. And as for a name I have yet to come up with something suitable. Besides he is still young and doesn't like sharing his opinion with words just yet" Tristan replied and tsked. His dragon rolled on the side and shot him a perplexed look.

The dwarf laughed.

"Neither have I, but rumours and stories travel. As for a name I am sure you will find something. What is yours?"

"I am Tristan. And you are…?"

"I am Rikon Sulfurcarver" the boy replied and Tristan took an instant liking to him.

Twilight had already approached and the palace's servants set table stands and chairs in the middle of the garden. Soon, the aroma of fresh and cooked food reached Tristan's nose and his stomach growled despite himself. He had been sited between Rikon and his grey-blue dragon and when the first cold cuts of meat arrived, the dragons snatched them before the boys even had a chance to look at them. They shared glances and started laughing.

More food was served and this time the dragons gave them the chance to eat first. As soon as Tristan went to grab a stuffed pigeon pie he saw a purple blur descending and the food disappeared from his hands only to appear into purple's talons.

"Tskk. Manners, dragons, manners. What will the fair ladies think of us?" he said and smiled, feeling almost content. He had not forgotten of his sister, who was unconscious or his mother who probably sat alone in their cottage watching the fire flames or the two young dragons who had died for naught but for a moment he allowed himself not to worry.

While he was happily spooning big mouthfuls of some mushroom stew, chatting with Rikon about their adventures and how the dragons had hatched for them, he saw another figure approaching. Tristan could not exactly place the race or the age of the man. He probably extended six feet in height but his body was lean as an elf's apart from maybe his shoulders which were slightly bigger. He had horns above his ears but by no means did they look like an Urgal's. Urgals had ram's horns, curved inside in a spiral, while the man's horns were straight and pointy in the ends, almost like baby goat's horns. There was a dragon that walked by his side, the size of a horse and he had a black-brown colour with highlights of some sort, but the dim lighting from the torches did not help to discern much else.

The young rider nodded in acknowledgement to the elder riders, who despite the food and wine still looked solemn, and then walked to where Tristan and Rikon were. He sat opposite them, looking on the table, his demeanour contained.

Rikon raised his eyebrows at him. Tristan cleared his throat and started playing with a fork that was close by. An uncomfortable silence prevailed until he decided to make the first move.

"So… I am Tristan. I guess you are the other rider?"

"I am Laer. And this is my dragon Onyx but I thought there was a forth rider?" the young rider replied, perplexed.

"Yeah, my sister but she is rather occupied at the moment. Some sort of spell took too much of her strength and she is recovering now. Long story, too many details, you wouldn't want to know" Tristan tried to say lightly, smiling, but his heart twisted just a little.

Laer nodded and proceeded to take a bite from the food that was served in front of him giving big amounts to his black dragon, who did not, however, grab the food like it was his last day in Alagaesia and was rather contained. Tristan took it as a sign of the dragon's older age. He was probably two months old and had passed the hatchling stage, entering into puberty now.

Tristan watched carefully as Laer's lips curled upwards while he ate and he noticed that his teeth had an edge to them and were sharper than a human's or elf's. He kneeled forward, just as his grey-blue dragon flew to Onyx's direction and started sniffing him curiously.

"So how old are you?" Tristan asked him.

"I became seventeen years of age two moons ago" the young rider replied. Tristan nodded and smiled, noticing the youth of the man's skin.

"And what exactly are you?" he asked again and Rikon next to him let out a loud whistle of exasperation. Laer looked taken aback just as his black dragon growled and the grey-blue dragon flew to Tristan's side, alarmed.

The young rider sighed and wiped his mouth with a napkin.

"I would prefer not talking of my past unless it's absolutely necessary. Why don't you tell me about your lives instead?" he asked politely and Tristan nodded although he was more than curious to find out what Laer was hiding. He drunk a glass of sweet wine the likes of which he had never tasted before and he soon felt light-headed.

He and Rikon started talking about their experiences with an easy air and Laer joined in to make comments and laugh at their jokes. Before long, midnight had approached and Tristan was feeling exhausted but satisfied, as he had food in his belly, more friends than before and a place to rest.

The young dragons had moved away from the table with the food and were now near the fountain, play-fighting. Fiord and his blue dragon were prodding each other with their paws while flying. Onyx would watch close by and he would rise in the air and join in the fight every so often. The dragons started having a race of sorts, testing their abilities to their limits. Which dragon would fly higher, which dragon would fly longer, which dragon would fly faster, which dragon would run faster...

Satisfaction, excitement and amusement coursed from his dragon and Tristan smiled happily. Just then he noticed purple gently approaching the young riders and suspiciously sniffing the area. Purple flew to the direction of the other dragons and the creatures noticing its appearance started circling each other, trying to determine their intentions. Tristan watched as his blue dragon started flying high and fast into the skies and the remaining dragons soon followed.

He was no longer the only one watching, as everyone's attention, including elder dragons', servants', magicians' and riders', had shifted to the skies.

His blue dragon was leading the way, making intricate turns and twists, once going higher, once lower, then faster, then turned direction all together to fly in circles around the garden, palace and city of Dras Leona. It was a sight of beauty to behold with the dragons' unique colours, but they were becoming a blur and vertigo coursed through Tristan as his eyes, head and body struggled to keep up with the race.

This game was testing the dragons' abilities, their strength, agility, canning and speed.

Suddenly it was clear that the race was coming to an end, as his blue rose high and then dropped in an alarming speed, with the remaining dragons following suit.

Everyone watched, holding their breath and stepping back from the middle of the garden. Just before Tristan thought the dragons would fall to their deaths, they took a turn upwards, flew around in a circle and landed near the fountain. Water sprayed everyone as Onyx's tail fell in the water and Tristan could see the dragons panting, moisture glittering on their scales but satisfaction radiated from all of them.

He had no idea which dragon had won but smugness emitted from his dragon and then a crystal clear image reached his mind which showed the end of the race. Blue and Purple had been fighting for first place with Onyx closely behind and Fiord trying to catch up to them. It had been very close but in the end his dragon had won with the rest coming behind him.