-THE WINGS OF WAR - CerebralError + CirindeFae-

[CerebralError]

The Grahnin Flats – The Eldran Conquered Territories
               - Spring 1916

   
   Laying down in the fleeting afternoon sun, the creature known by her human handlers as Petra  shifted in her pen, fanning out her large, stony gray wings to soak up as much of the sun's rays as she could. The highland air was cool and damp from the frequent rains, two conditions that she did not greatly enjoy. Being cold-blooded, it made her feel lethargic and slow, so she took advantage of these rare moments of sunshine to soak in the sun's warmth. The adolescent dragoness watched as the humans rushed about in a display of near chaos that she found strangely intriguing. They circled and bobbed around one another like leaves caught in the current of a stream, but they always had a destination, a goal. Very rarely did they just...wander... But even watching the humans grew dull over time, and Petra yawned, a soft, keening sound that echoed throughout the small hangar that housed her, and nearly a dozen more of her kind.

   Dragons had been an integral part of this world before since the dawn of human history. At first, they had been gods to the humans, mighty and indestructible beasts that were feared, respected, and worshiped by all. Then they were legends, and the humans that slayed them were lavished with riches and fame. And finally, they were merely obstacles to human expansion, creatures destined only to meet extinction at the hands of human armies. But as the rest of the world hunted down the dragons one by one, the Eldran Republics captured them, bred them, and made them into weapons of war to use against their enemies. Traits were pruned away or passed on to the next clutch for centuries, until the dragons had finally become what they were now: domesticated beasts of war and burden.

   And this new breed of dragons had been the key to many of Eldra's military victories. The armies they faced could do little against soldiers who attacked from the sky, held aloft by the swift wings of smaller, more nimble dragons than the ones their ancestors had faced down generations before. Tooth, talon, and fire still inflicted appalling damage upon human bodies, while dragon scale still resisted arrowhead and sword edge as it had done all those times before. And even as time and progress marched on, and sword and bow became musket and bayonet, Eldra and its dragons emerged victorious. The last great battle between ground soldiers and flying cavalry had been during the 90 Days War two decades ago, only a few miles away from where Petra now rested in the sun.

   But this all mattered very little to Petra, despite being a direct result of that history. She had little use for history. Such knowledge was not passed down from one clutch to the next, instincts were. Emotions were. She could learn the rest when she found her Rider. Despite all of Eldra's experience with breeding dragons, it was still not understood how a dragon 'chose' its Rider, if it was even a conscious decision at all. There were many theories regarding the subject, but it was known that only a small number of humans had the ability to become bonded to a dragon, and that a dragon's performance and survivability increased dramatically once bonded to a human. Until then, she was only able to fly about the camp, under the close watch of a human caretaker, not allowed to freely explore the skies like her brothers and sisters.

   Her siblings also rested in their pens, basking in the sunlight that reached them. Unlike her, they all had Riders to call their own. The dragoness let out a great sigh, setting her head back down on the pile of bedding that covered the floor. She knew that she still had a few years until she was too old to find a Rider. It was plenty of time. But still, a lingering part of her feared that she would never find hers, or find it too late, and be given up as a beast of burden, hauling heavy loads around instead of flying like she had been born to do.

   That was not a life that she wanted.

   Petra smelled his approach long before he entered – the smell of hot blood and raw meat – and instantly her mouth started to water. She lifted her head and stared towards the open front of the hangar, watching. Pushing along a rattling, squeaking cart, one of the caretakers walked in amongst them. The cart carried several buckets of steaming slop. It smelled delicious. The man stopped at her pen first, reaching between the bars to rub the tip of her nose with his palm. He was a man whose hair had turned the color of ashes, his skin looked as tough and leathery as dragon's scale. But the man was nice to her; he talked to her, even though she couldn't understand a lot of what he said, and she enjoyed the company that a human brought. They were strange, fascinating creatures. Despite being unable to properly communicate with her kind, the humans still talked to them, even when they received no answers in reply. She knew it would be different with a Rider.

   "Hey there, Petra." He said, grabbing one of the filled pails and dumping the mixture of entrails and ground-up gristle into the trough in front of her. When one bucket was empty, he grabbed a second and dumped it in as well. "Hot and fresh from the slaughterhouse. And..." The man reached between the bars of her pen, rubbing the tip of her nose. He reached into his pocket, and produced a small white egg, holding it out towards her. "A treat."

   Petra licked at her thin lips. She had almost been ready to plunge her muzzle into the trough of hot, bloody meat when she saw the egg. Her tongue stretched out until the man set the egg upon it. She quickly pulled her tongue back in and mashed it against the roof of her mouth, swallowing the pulp. Eggs were a rare treat here, not just because of the distance needed to ship them from the farms, but because a healthy dragon could eat thousands of eggs if it was given the chance. All those years ago, dragons had eaten the eggs of weaker or defeated dragons. The taste was instinctual. So they were given out as treats, to make the limited supply last longer. It seemed that the humans liked eggs, too, and wouldn't be happy if their dragons ate them all.

   Immediately after finishing the egg, Petra buried her snout into the trough, wolfing down huge gulps of the meaty slop. It warmed her from the inside as it filled her stomach. The man was talking to her again, but she was so focused on her meal that she hardly noticed the sounds. She could pick up a few words though, words she vaguely understood. "...some good news for you, girl..." Petra slowly lifted her head from the trough, licking away the blood from her lips. The man was pointing out of the hangar, towards a line of rickety-looking trucks that had lined up alongside the barracks on the other side of the base. "Got a bunch of new potentials in today. One of them might be your Rider..."

   Her interest in the food was instantly lost, instead focused on the distant line of trucks that disgorged soldiers and supplies, trying to spot the potentials that the man had mentioned. Even with her hawkish eyes, she couldn't get a good view. The sounds melted together across the distance, and all that reached her ears was a mush of muffled voices, the sharp bangs of an engine backfiring, and the soft chant of boot steps. She would never find her rider like this. Her excitement bursting, Petra lowered her head and bashed against the door to her pen. The man's eyes widened. He said something, alarm creeping into his tone. She rammed the door again. The bars were thick, and made of steel, but it would take more than that to stop a dragon from going where she wanted to go.

   A final bash dislodged the sliding gate from its tracks, and Petra pushed herself free of the enclosure, rushing out of the hangar and into the center of the camp. There were hundreds of humans around her, hurrying back and forth. Some saw her and started walking in a wide berth around her. Others backed away when they caught her looking at them, still afraid of the beasts that they bred and flew. But, those humans were not of interest to her. Their scents were familiar. No, her interest was the trucks and the men and women they brought, new smells. She could hear loud voices braying to the lines of men and women that stood rigid. Was her Rider really among their ranks, like the man had suggested? Had any of them even seen a creature such as her? Would they be afraid? Or would they instantly know they were supposed to fly together?

   Even though she was much smaller than the dragons of old, she was certainly not 'small' by any standard.  A creature almost eighteen feet from nose-to-tail and six feet tall at the shoulder, and with a wingspan of nearly twenty four feet: Petra was still an imposing sight to behold. She continued to stride towards the lines of soldiers, but she never made it that far. Before she could get much closer, a group of men – soldiers – cut her off. They all carried rifles, and one carried a gun much bigger than one that would be used on a man. They warned her off, not knowing her intentions. To them, she was still a beast, still a dangerous creature that could kill many, many humans if not put down quickly. Petra let out a snort, looking over the heads of the humans blocking her to the lines of soldiers again. Reluctantly, she turned away, and the humans guided her back to the hangar.

   She had dislodged the door to her pen, and so while it was being repaired, the soldiers stood watch in front of it. Petra sighed again, pacing around before dropping with a soft thump against the bedding. The dragoness looked outside once again, before she lowered her head and resumed scarfing down the meal of meat slop. It had cooled significantly while she was out, but it was still meat. She ate every last morsel.

[CirindeFae]

Gray eyes scanned the horizon, looking for any sign of where he might be headed. He couldn't tell where the military was taking him, but then again he couldn't exactly complain. He didn't have much to leave back home and the chances were high that there was something better waiting for him when the military vehicles came to a stop. Until that time, Sion's eyes would continue to absorb all the details they could of his surroundings.

Sighing, he shifted to lean against the side of the vehicle and brushed his silver hair out of his vision and back behind his ear. His hair wasn't that long, but in a good breeze it just seemed to go everywhere fortunately he'd grown used to it and could still see extremely well through the silver white strands. This trip was far too long and his butt was starting to fall asleep. A small sound of dismay left his lips to earn looks of disapproval from those around him. The looks caused him to smirk as he shrugged it off. If their asses were falling asleep like his was they probably wouldn't have done the same. Shifting again to get some more blood to his backside, Sion continued to watch the horizon looking for any sign of possibly stopping to unload.

After what seemed was hours, the vehicles finally came to a stop and started to unload the soldiers. Sion gave a sigh of relief as his feet hit ground then licked his lips as he looked around. The place was decent according to his standards, not too fancy nor too bland. Although it did possess one feature he fancied - the dragons overhead. He couldn't keep his eyes off them and more than once it caused his commanding officer to shout at him. Eventually it got through Sion's head that the sooner he did as told the sooner he could wander around, gaze locked onto the soaring beasts.

Not even thirty minutes had passed before young Sion was allowed to explore the grounds and a sort of joy filled him. Eagerly, he moved through the grounds his eyes to the sky until he hit a sort of stable where his gaze was drawn to the beasts settled into pins. Curiosity coursed through him and his feet had him moving before his brain caught up. The creatures held behind the metal bars were all so majestic, nearly commanding respect. He was in awe and his feet continued to carry him down among the beasts until he was standing before a couple of soldiers and a beautiful stony dragon. His feet stopped there as his gaze landed on the creature. Why? Why was he drawn to this one? It confused him, but then again being from the countryside he knew very little about dragons and even less about the military. The only reason he was there now was his unusual prowess with a gun. He'd had a lot of practice with one during his childhood when he went out attempting to hunt for his family. Not that he minded so much. Leaving the country would be good for him.

Slowly he tried to get closer to the dragon only to be stopped by the guards, drawing him from his almost trance. Blinking, stormy gray eyes flicked from one soldier to the other before he realized where he was. "Oh," Running a hand up into his loose hair, Sion took a few steps back. "My bad. Apologies." He muttered then turn to go, his gaze shifting to the dragon once more.

[CerebralError]

The weight of the meat slop she had eaten settled pleasantly in Petra's stomach, but the the dark gray dragoness still let out a mournful sigh. She rested against the far wall of her pen, watching as a couple of men worked to repair the broken door to her cell, while armed soldiers stood guard outside as if though she was a dangerous animal. Meanwhile, her Rider could be outside and she would never even know it! The new humans had shown up in those rickety trucks some time ago, and the sounds of activity outside were even more hurried than they were before. The air was full of new voices, new smells, already mixing in with the old. How would she find her Rider if she was sealed up in here? She thought of trying to knock her way out again. She could do it, she knew she could, but she might hurt the men who were fixing her pen, and the men with the rifles would start shooting without hesitation. She did not want that. And so, she waited like she had for many days before.

A group of Riders brought their dragons back to the hangar when their patrols had finished, some of them looking over at Petra and the repairs being done to her pen. A few of the humans showed sympathy, the others wore looks of annoyance. This wasn't the first time that Petra had been overeager in the search for her Rider. She had at one point broken into the barracks house, causing damage that had taken days to repair during the wettest part of the year. The other dragons however, were universally understanding of her uneasiness - they had all been without Riders once as well. Petra let out another sigh and lowered her head to the dry hay bedding on the floor and closed her eyes in rest, waiting for when they would bring her out to see the potential Riders. If they brought her out after what she had done.

There was a new smell.

Petra opened her eyes again, lifting her head to look sharply at the new human that had just walked into the hangar. His smell was new, even though it carried the familiar stinks of exhaust fumes and coarse fabric and cordite. His curiously gray eyes were focused on her, as if he knew she was the only unbonded dragon. That it also could have been that she was the only dragon with soldiers standing in front of her pen never once crossed her mind. When the young man came to a stop in front of her pen, Petra felt...something. A yearning deep inside her. The soldier in front of her was not dressed like a potential Rider, his uniform was the usual dull brown-green that the soldiers wore, and it lacked the armband that would have designated his advanced position. But could this human be...really be?

The human stepped closer to her pen, but the armed soldiers warned him away. The soldier apologized and turned to leave. Petra took a few steps forward, too quickly for the comfort of one of the guards, who swung his rifle back in her direction and raised the sights to his eye. Petra quickly shrank back and whined painfully as she watched the human leave the hangar, his last sight of her being that of the stone-gray dragoness being warned away by the barrel of a rifle.

A hand clamped down firmly on Sion's shoulder. Glaring at him was another one of the soldiers that Sion had gone through training with, although to call the well-groomed and arrogant boy in front of him would be a stretch and likely an insult to the uniform. Johan Müller III was the only son of an aristocratic family living near the capital city of Königshaven. Two years younger than Sion and infinitely more spoiled, Johan had not enlisted in the Imperial Army by choice, but because his father wished to make a good impression for the Kaiser - something he pointed out with irritating regularity. For some unknown reason, Johan had chosen Sion to be the target for the bulk of his bigotry, and even the supposed equality enforced by their identical rank could not erase the class difference between the two recruits. In Johan's eyes Sion was a peasant, someone beneath his contempt, and the mere thought of someone like him becoming one of the proud, elite few that commanded Eldra's dragon was enough to make him laugh. Unsurprisingly, his uniform had an armband, courtesy of father's political connections.

"Beautiful, splendid creatures..." Johan longingly eyed the winged beasts that stirred in their pens, even the one that was backing away from the weapons pointed at her. For a moment, he seemed no different than any of dozens of soldiers of all ages that had seen the flying creatures, but then he added: "It's a shame that you'll only be looking at them from the ground."

[CirindeFae]

Sion's gray eyes narrowed at the male before him, his anger stirring easily at the sight of the male. It didn't take long for his hands to curl into fists as he was talked down to, but he quickly dug his nails into his palms and forced himself to regain his sanity. Taking a deep breath he centered himself and looked back to the hangar. "Only from the ground can one truly appreciate them." He said softly, then turned his attention back to the younger male. "Is there something I can do for you? Or would you prefer to use me as a punching bag?" He asked, revealing no signs of the anger swirling in the pit of his stomach or the dismay he felt at being looked down upon for simply being born to a family that preferred hard work over easy money. On the other hand, his father was well supported by the military. Or had been. It had been several years since his family had heard anything from him. In fact, Sion had even given up hope that he was still alive. Besides, who in the Engel family would care if Sebastian Albrecht was still alive? The only two who knew the man was Sion and his mother, and she had denounced her marriage to him after Klaus was born.

Uneasy, Sion pushed thoughts of his father and family away. They would do him no good here among hardened soldiers and dragons. Returning his attention to Johan, Sion let his gaze take in his expression. He would remember this boy and when he got the chance....

[CerebralError]

The next few hours were a such whirlwind of activity that Sion wouldn't have been able to focus on his anger at Johan even if he had wanted to. The new recruits were all broken up and assigned to their barracks. The wooden buildings just barely kept out the cold, and the beds were little more than cots and uncomfortable to sleep on, but like it or not, it was home. Johan was assigned to a barracks for Riders and potentials, and women had their own separate barracks. The new recruits barely had enough time to get acclimated before an officer strode in, his head clad in a pointed Pickelhaube helmet. His uniform was crisp and pressed, dark grey fabric lined with red, epaulets on his shoulder marking his rank as Sergeant-Major. His mustache twitched slightly as he looked upon the new assembling of soldiers. He was obviously not impressed by what he saw.

"And what is this?" He shouted, his voice deafening. "I asked for soldiers! Not a bunch of ballerinas!" His arms were folded tight behind his back, his knee-high boots polished. "Oh!" He said with mock surprise. "You are the soldiers they have sent? Well! You do not look like soldiers to me! Now get outside and get in formation! If you are going to be soldiers, you are going to act like soldiers! And that means marching! Now move!"

[CirindeFae]

Sion's mind was swirling with information and drills as the incoming soldiers were separated and directed to their designated locations. He was going over all the stuff he'd learned in the few short years just case it was going to be... Taking in a few deep breaths, he made his way to his assigned barracks only to discover he was there without Johan. The knowledge of that was a bit of a relief, but at the same time it concerned him. If Johan wasn't here with the foot soldiers that most likely meant the boy was among the Riders and Rider potentials, at least if his information was correct. The idea irritated him. What gave Johan the right to be placed there and not him? And what of that beautiful gray dragon he'd seen?

His thoughts were then pulled from him as he was called to attention by a commanding officer entering the barracks. He'd no longer have the luxury of thinking. He also wouldn't be able to allow himself to get angry. He was sure to be shouted at relentlessly and getting angry and lashing out at his CO just wasn't a good idea. For now, he would just wait this out.

[CerebralError]

The men left when they had finally finished repairing the door to her pen, but the soldiers remained there with their rifles, in case she tried to break free again. She looked at them dejectedly, but they showed impassiveness towards her. How could they understand what she was feeling? Then, a thought that alarmed her crossed her mind. What if they didn't let her out like they usually did when there were potentials for her to see? What if she had gone too far this time? Worry started to pool deep down in her belly, ruining the pleasant weight of her earlier meal. Petra climbed to her feet and started pacing back and forth inside her pen. That there wasn't really enough room for her to do so wasn't a concern of hers, she had to do something other than lay there. As the minutes passed and the shadows started to lengthen, her worry began to give way to despair. They should have brought her outside by now! Would they make her wait until tomorrow? Or even longer? Weeks? Months? She was sorry! She would behave! Just let her find her Rider and she would behave!

Then, a smell. Familiar. Petra rounded on the door as fast as she could turn, her eyes wide and pleading. The person entering the hangar was not the young man who had come in here before, the one who she had felt such a strong yearning towards, but an older man in a crisp gray uniform and a cap, his expression stern. The man was the commander of the base, and he had already heard of Petra's little 'breakout' and was far from amused by it. Even though Petra was a dragon, she was still an animal, and stubborn animals had to be broken in. If he had his choice, he would have had this dragon sent back to the Heartland, where she could be used for things other than damaging his base and eating up food that could be used to sustain the other, already bonded dragons. But, orders were orders, and one of the new potentials was some rich bastard's son with a growing amount of political influence. He ordered the gate to her pen opened up, but the men with the rifles would continue to stand guard until she was back in her pen.

Petra wasn't entirely sure of what had just happened, but the gate to her pen was open and she was being allowed outside. She moved slowly, looking back and forth between the base commander and the men with the rifles as they escorted her out of the hangar. Ahead of her was a gathering of men and women of various ages, all wearing uniforms with armbands. The potentials. But the grey-eyed human was not there with them, and she remembered that his uniform did not have an armband. She looked for him, hawkish eyes sweeping over the base for a glimpse of him, her nose trying to pick up his smell from the myriad of odors that filled the air. The base commander began to speak to them, about the honor and privilege of becoming an aerial cavalry soldier. Petra had heard the speech several times before, the words were just noise to her now. She was hardly paying attention to those gathered before her. She already knew that they were not her Rider.

One-by-one the commander called out their names and they walked up to her. She sat quietly, obediently, behaving under the watchful eyes of the commander and the armed guards. When a potential walked up to her, she paid attention to them then, but one-by-one they went back to the line disappointed. One particularly smug-looking potential strode up to face her. She had heard his name called out as 'Johan Müller'. When she did not respond to his presence, he got angry, furious even. He did not want to believe that he was not her Rider. He started yelling that she was just a stupid animal, before finally storming back to the line and glowered at her. The rest of the potentials went quickly, alarmed by Johan's outburst and not wanting to be seen the same way. Finally, there were no more. Once again, Petra did not have a rider. The base commander sighed and dismissed them back to their barracks, and ordered Petra back to her pen.

Petra had turned and began to walk away when she smelled something familiar. It was him. She stiffened like a hound who had just picked up a scent, looking around for him. There! Marching with a bunch of other men near the barracks. Despite the fact that she was under guard, Petra was not going to let the opportunity escape her again. She spread her wings and swept them down powerfully, pushing her gray body off the ground and into the air. The guards shouted with alarm as they swung their rifles towards her. Another powerful flap of her wings thrust her forward through the air. Rifle fire cracked past her, but none were close enough to hit her. She swept towards the group of men who had stopped running and were now flat on their bellies, trying to figure out where the gunfire was coming from. She picked him out easily amongst the crowd.

She covered the distance in only a few seconds, quickly flared her wings and thudded down onto the rough gravel, towering over the human that had come into her hangar before. Once again, she felt that deep yearning tugging in her chest, and she knew. She knew. All this waiting. It was done. She laid down beside him, like a faithful dog, her golden eyes bright as she looked at him. She had found her Rider.

"It's you." The thought resounded powerfully in her head, and she could feel it echo against his own thoughts.

[CirindeFae]

Sion was more than occupied with the orders his CO shouted out at him and the rest of his squadron. He had almost forgotten about the existence of the dragons in the compound until he could see where he'd been caught by Johan. Thinking back to that moment, he started to fall behind in the march which in return caused his commanding officer to shout at him further. Well, at the very least the higher ups expected him to be troublesome since he came from an "underdeveloped" family.

So distracted by his thoughts and musings at the other soldiers thinking so little of him due to his upbringing, he failed to notice the sound of flapping wings like the rest of his group had. All eyes but his went up to incoming dragoness. In a split second many of the new recruits had dashed out of the way or fell to the ground. It was then that Sion noticed the oddity of what was happening and his gaze went wide as he recognized the creature coming at him. Awe filled him at her grace, never once did fear enter the equation. Some how he could tell she wasn't out to eat him or anything, he couldn't explain it but he just knew. Slowly he smiled, the expression awkward upon his face. And then she was laying down beside him and he felt...oddly whole, like he'd been missing a piece of him only he never knew he was. His smile grew some, changing the awkward expression into one that made him seem much more human. Without thought or caution, his hand extended and caressed her lovely stone colored scales.

Moving closer he spoke. "You recognized me, huh?"

[CerebralError]

Petra bowed her head as Sion's hand brushed over her scales, closing her eyes. "It's you." She repeated, her voice lifting with excitement. "I've waited for so long to find you." Her words were not spoken, but intoned directly in his thoughts. It was a strange, alien, but...comforting experience. Slowly, the other soldiers began to get up and look on in awe at the dragon that had scattered their formation, and then looked towards Sion. There were boots pounding on the ground as soldiers ran up - these ones with rifles at the ready, rounds loaded in the chamber. They only hesitated to fire when they saw Sion's hand upon Petra's muzzle, and how she sat faithfully by his side.

The base commander's fury lessened only somewhat at the sight, but it was enough to keep him from ordering the dragon from being put down. He strode up to the dragon and her newfound Rider, standing there quietly until the blood left his face. Even still, the firmness of his voice was still evident. "What do you have to say for yourself, young man?" He spoke as if chiding Sion for his actions. "You were not one of the listed Potentials."

[CirindeFae]

Sion couldn't help but smile as the creature at his side bowed her head. And then a voice inside his head had him looking around a bit wide-eyed until he realized where it had originated from. Blinking, almost unsettled by the idea, he looked back to the dragoness.

Feeling all eyes on him and the dragon, he started to feel nervous. Had he done something wrong? Or was it simply that impressive to have a creature such as this come to him? Slowly he let his gray eyes scan the forming crowd, particularly on the armed soldiers. The way things appeared, Sion felt as if he'd done something extremely wrong. Something so wrong that it punishable by death. Swallowing hard, he found himself pressing closer to the stony gray of the dragon. He wasn't sure what was to come and he wasn't sure he wanted to find out.

His gaze quickly landed on the base commander when he approached, obviously furious. Despite seeing the man, Sion felt that he had no need to be afraid. Unfortunately, that wasn't enough to stop the fear from worming its way through him. Base commander stopped in front of him, Sion snapped to attention. A quick salute happened as he was addressed and didn't fall until the commander stopped talking. "Uh, I'm sorry, sir, but I'm not entirely sure what's going on..."