Chapter 2
/Angel, I hear you/
"Again, it was a pleasure to meet you."
Eret, son of Eret, Drogo's up and coming commander, said it so softly that Astrid almost didn't hear him. With one last gentle press of his lips on her bruised and scared knuckles, Eret turned and followed the Chief and Bludvist out the arched doorway of the receiving chamber.
It was hours later, after the fiasco of the final presentation, after the victory party in the privacy of her class' sleeping quarters. Astrid had been summoned away to meet with the headmaster, his honored guest, and this Eret, son of Eret, who was insistent to meet her.
They were impressed, generous with their compliments, and expressed their interest in her future. Astrid let it all wash over her, her mind somewhere else entirely.
Now she was alone, and hope bloomed in her heart. Before today, he'd always find her when she was alone, whether it was in deserted hallways, or private, forgotten training rooms. He usually startles her with a snarky comment.
"Wow, what a charmer."
Like that.
Astrid turned towards the voice, finding her phantom lounging on one of the corner banisters, as if he'd been there the whole time. "You're here." She said, disbelieving.
He tilted his masked face slightly. "Don't I always keep tabs on you? Thought you'd be used to it by now..." He said, his tone casual. While keeping his balance, he jumped onto his feet and started walking and swinging about the banisters, switching the use of his arms and legs in too quick a pace. This used to make Astrid nervous-afraid that he would fall. His confidence and lazy skill has since proven her otherwise.
"You were exceptional today, milady," He continued. "Predicting the Nadder's attack pattern… then going for the knot on her throat…" Her phantom stopped when he realized Astrid wasn't listening, but looking up at him, disbelievingly. They'd grown close and comfortable in their time together, of course her strange demeanor would put him off. "Astrid?"
"I thought... I thought you'd be angry..." said Astrid plainly. "I didn't think you'd come see me again."
By the rise of his shoulders and chest and small shake of his head, she knew he sighed deeply. "That wasn't your fault, Astrid. You didn't know that they'd pit you against a dragon. You didn't have a choice-"
"But what if I killed it?" She cut in. "And I almost did if you hadn't come."
"But I did come. You wouldn't have killed her. I got your signal." Her phantom continued to reason. "I heard you, Astrid."
For years, he'd stun her with simple comments like that. Was he a mind reader, or she just an open book? She would have pondered on it more, but he suddenly dropped down from the banisters, landing on balls of his feet. He stood, and took careful steps towards her. Her phantom would come and stand within her reach twice in one day. She could hardly believe it.
He's kept his distance all this time, either speaking to her-instructing her, from atop the banisters, or rafters-sometimes from across the room. Astrid's heart hammered in her chest, she was almost sure he could hear it.
Why she was so drawn to him, Astrid couldn't understand. When he'd first made himself known to her, she was an angry teenager, ready to take on any and all dragons to avenge her tribe-to avenge...
A shy, flecked face with a lopsided smile flashed in her mind's eye.
Astrid shook her head and willed the memory away. She was different now, a woman grown with a new purpose. Her phantom had shown her the truth about dragons and had been teaching her how to care for and train them. They would meet late into the night-friends from class assuming she was putting in more hours in her training. They were half right. Astrid had lost count on how many new dragons her phantom has introduced to her—all tame and easily under his control. With a simple gesture, or some instruction spoken in clicks and grunts, the dragons would freely and fearlessly approach her—befriend her. Someday, they'll show you how to fly, he'd said before. He had shown her a life beyond the ruin and rage of her people. And now, after so long of settling for his voice and wisdom, her phantom stood before her, in flesh and blood.
He was tall, she realized, standing at least half a head taller than her. He wore a fitted leather helmet, studded with dark horns to resemble a dragon's head. From a far, she could sometimes make out his mouth-especially when he smiled at her-but how, his whole face was hidden, expect for the two eyes locked on her hers.
Green like the forests of her youth-the forests of Berk.
"How do you know," she started, itching to touch him. "How do you know I wouldn't have?"
"Because I know you, Astrid. You know better. You're different." Like a wish granted, he raised his hand towards her, his palm spread open, hovering between them-a gesture she recognized instantly. It's how he subdued unruly and untamed dragons. In this moment, it was an open door to what she only ever had in dreams.
Astrid mirrored him, and touched her hand to his, their fingers and palms pressing into each other. A shiver ran down her spine and a fire blazed in her chest.
Something flashed in her phantom's eyes, as if he had been asking her question and she just gave him the answer he wanted. "I..."
The spell broke as faint and faraway footsteps echoed into the chamber. Astrid couldn't tell if they were headed here, but from how well she knew her phantom, he wouldn't risk it. Of course the gods wouldn't let this last. Cursing her fate, she started pulling her hand back, already letting him go in her mind, when he suddenly grasped hers even tighter.
"Come with me."
Astrid was struck dumb with the question. Did he mean right now? For how long? For forever? Come with him to where? Logic, reason, and caution all screamed in her head. At least the realization that he didn't ask a question silenced the hammering of her heart.
The footsteps grew louder. Whoever it was, they were definitely coming this way. Her phantom tugged her hand closer, almost crushing it to his chest. "Astrid, come with me."
Her eyes searched his hidden face. She tried to imagine what lay beneath the mask. Who was this man she was about to give herself to? His voice and presence had been both the light to her world of dark caverns and fiery nightmares, all the while being a complete mystery to her. But there was always something about him, how his soul always seemed to resonate with hers… how his voice soothed the storm in her mind.
"Astird."
It was so different... to hear him say her name up so close. She tuned out the voice of logic and reason and caution and gave him her other hand. By the crinkle of his eyes, she knew he smiled. He dropped her hands to pull her by the waist until Astrid was flush against him. Her face burned. He smelled of steel and sweat.
And air—as if the wind itself was etched onto his skin.
The footsteps were almost at them now. Beneath the mask, he made a clicking, warbling sound, then a long, black, scaled tail shot down from the banisters, wrapped around them both, pulling Astrid and her phantom to what might as well have been the unknown above.
xx
