Jirnethelle spent the following days pushing himself as hard as he dared. The more he walked, the less he had to think about what he left behind. Or so he thought. As hard as he tried to put it out of mind, he couldn’t help but wonder what had caused the fire, why his home was left untouched, and what began to nag at him: why the surrounding land hadn’t been affected by the fire.

On the third day, he was forced to stop as a wave of early summer heat rolled in. As the day grew too hot for travel, he stopped under the shelter of some birch trees to wait out the worst of it. He set his pack on the ground next to him as he sunk down against the trunk of one of the trees. He hadn’t planned on napping but the heat and his exhaustion tugged at his eyes until he gave in and drifted off.

He was startled awake by a sound like the wind, but there was no breeze playing through the trees as he looked around, the day was as hot and still as it had been when he had stopped. He began to dismiss it and settle back against the trunk when the sound grew louder, reminding him of thunder. Puzzled, he got to his feet and gazed up through the trees. The sky was clear with hardly a cloud in sight, offering no explanation of the sound. He looked around some more, wandering out from under the trees, when he heard a distant voice. It was too far away for him to make out, but it gradually grew louder until he was able to make out the words.
“That’s it! Keep flapping!”
He looked to the sky again and this time he spotted a Dragon and a Faerie.
“You’re doing it!”
The ground gave a gentle rumble and Jirnethelle turned his attention from the sky to the horizon where he saw a Unicorn running at full speed in his direction, her head turning from the sky to the path before her.
“You’re doing it, Xavier!” the voice went on and Jirnethelle concluded it was the Faerie’s voice as the Unicorn was too far off to be heard.
As he watched, the Faerie turned around, flying backwards as she stayed near the Dragon. She wasn’t so high up that he couldn’t make out her features. She had long hair that, even pulled up and flying through the air, he could see came past her waist. She wore a pale blue tunic with a thick brown belt clasped tightly around her small waist, and brown leggings tucked into white boots of a material he couldn’t quite make out. But what really drew his attention were her wings. Every Faerie he’d ever encountered had gossamer wings and everything he’d read and learned about Faeries gave no mention of a variety in wing type, save for style and colour. But this one had the wings of a Pegasus, the feather-winged, horse-like beings who lived in the far north amongst the Dragons and in the far south.
Jirnethelle was so enraptured by the Faerie’s wings that by the time he realised she was on a collision course with the trees it was too late to warn her.
“Keep up the good wor—” she was cut off with a shriek as she flew backwards into the birch trees and tumbled through their branches, landing hard on the ground.
Jirnethelle hurried to help her up, but she was already leaping to her feet and running out from under the trees to find the Dragon.
“How do I stop?!” the Dragon, still in flight, screamed.
“Don’t flap you wings so much!” the Faerie yelled up to him.
“I can’t!”
“I’m coming!” the Faerie started to flap her wings and crouched, ready to jump into the sky. “Ow!” She stopped flapping and stood straight as she looked at her wings. “Rheetlespit,” she hissed and looked back at the Dragon. “Uh...Just hold your wings out to your sides,” she said, holding her arms out to demonstrate.
“Like this?” the Dragon called, his voice a high squeak as he started to drop rapidly from the sky.
“Flap slowly!” the Faerie yelled and darted out of the Dragon’s path as he began to lose control and spiral to the ground.
“Oh, is he going to be okay?” a timid young voice spoke to the Faerie.
Jirnethelle looked over to see the Unicorn had caught up. He had been so busy watching the drama unfold with the Faerie and the Dragon that he hadn’t noticed the Unicorn’s approach.
“I hope so,” the Faerie replied. “Flap your wings!” she yelled, but it was too late. The Dragon crashed into the ground and the Faerie ran over to him, hovering like a mother over her child.
“Xavier! Oh, are you alright? You’re not hurt, are you?” she fired off the questions as she helped him to his feet and examined him from all angles.
Xavier giggled, it was a funny squeaking sound Jirnethelle hadn’t expected from a Dragon the size of a small bear.
“That was fun!”
“Oh, thank goodness you’re not hurt,” the Faerie prattled. “I don’t know what I would have done if you were hurt because Cliff’s not here and—”
“Excuse me,” Jirnethelle interrupted.
“Oh...hello,” the Faerie said, jumping around in surprise to face Jirnethelle. “I didn’t see you there.”
“Are you alright?” Jirnethelle asked her. “You took quite the fall.”
“Me?” she asked, blinking her large violet eyes in surprise as she pointed to herself. “Oh, I’m fine. A few feathers lost, a few scrapes, nothing I can’t handle.” As if to prove her point, she stretched her large ivory feathered wings out behind her and gave them a flap, stopping suddenly with a sharp intake of breath. “Okay, maybe it’s more than a few lost feathers,” she said with a sour look on her face. “But still, it’s nothing I can’t handle.” She nodded towards her wings. “They’re just bruised is all.” She stuck her hand out to Jirnethelle. “I’m Khale of the Draco Mountains, this is Xavier, also of the Draco Mountains, and Mysty of Kasasia,” she said, pointing to the Dragon and Unicorn in turn.
Jirnethelle took her hand and shook it. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Jirnethelle of...” his throat tightened as he realised he now had no place to call home.
“Jirnethelle of...?” Khale asked.
“Just Jirnethelle now,” he replied.
“Nonsense, you came from somewhere,” Khale insisted.
“Zailmairia,” Jirnethelle said.
“Oh,” Khale’s grin faded. “Oh...I’m so sorry. I-I didn’t know.”
“Did you survive the fire?” Mysty asked, eyes wide.
“That’s impossible,” Khale said, “we heard there were no survivors.”
“No one?” Jirnethelle stumbled over to one of the trees and leaned against the trunk. “No one survived?”
“That’s what we heard,” Khale said. “I’m so sorry. Did you have family there?”
“Yes,” Jirnethelle said, “but all those people. I knew just about everyone in Zailmairia. I visited the graves, but still, I thought surely others had made it out.”
“D-do you have family outside of Zailmairia?” Mysty asked.
Jirnethelle shook his head before he said, “My father may not have been in the village at the time of the fire. I’m trying to find him.”
“Do you know where he may have gone?” Khale asked.
“I think so, or at least I know where I can find people who may know where he is.”
“That’s something, isn’t it?” Khale smiled. “Where are you going?”
“Palaceide,” Jirnethelle said. “My father’s the Elven representative on the king’s council.”
Khale’s eyes widened. “I knew something had happened! Flamescale--the Dragon representative--left so suddenly and without much word. It really wasn’t like him. Do you think the council’s in Palaceide?”
“If they’re not, I would assume someone in the palace knows where they are,” Jirnethelle said and retrieved his backpack. “I should get going. I’ve spent enough time sitting around.”
“Do you mind if we walk with you?” Khale asked.
Jirnethelle smiled at her. “I don’t mind at all. Actually, I’d like some company.”
“H-how far are we walking?” Mysty asked.
“I don’t know,” Khale shrugged. “Xavier!” she called the Dragonling over.
“Where are we going?” Xavier asked, releasing the butterfly he’d caught and bounding over.
“Down the road a bit,” Khale said as they started walking. “We made a new friend, it would be rude to just leave.”
“I hope you don’t mind my saying,” Jirnethelle said, “but you’re a rather odd trio.”
“We get that a lot,” Khale grinned.
Jirnethelle looked over Khale to where Mysty was trying to stay out of sight. “How old are you, Mysty?”
She gave a small squeal of alarm before glancing at the Elf and lowering her gaze. “Four,” she said softly.
“I take it you haven’t performed a spell yet?” Jirnethelle asked. During the first half of his two years in Kasasia, he’d stayed with the Unicorns and learned that all Unicorns were given a name consisting of two or more syllables when they were born. Only when they successfully performed a spell using their horn were they granted their one syllabic name and deemed an adult.
Mysty looked at Jirnethellle, her baby blue eyes widening. “You know our customs?”
“Yes. I spent a year with the Unicorns of Kasasia recently,” Jirnethelle said.
“I’m from Kasasia.” Mysty picked up her pace so she could see Jirnethelle better.
“Are you? It’s a very beautiful place.”
Mysty tossed her head in a nod. “I want to go back one day.”
“And we will. One day,” Khale promised, patting Mysty’s shoulder. “Xavier!” The Dragonling had toddled off and was trying to set a flower on fire, which wouldn’t have been an issue had the flower not been in front of a small cluster of trees.
“Xavier, practise your fire away from the trees, remember?” Khale coached while pushing his muzzle away from the trees.
“Oh. Right.”
“It may not be a good idea to practise until we’re closer to some water,” Khale added as an afterthought.
“Aww, but Khale!” he whined.
“No buts. It’s too hot right now and you could set the entire area ablaze.”
Jirnethelle smiled as he watched the two. “How old is he?”
“He’s in his third year,” Khale replied. “He’s just learning to fly.” She laughed lightly. “As you could probably tell, it’s not going that great. I’m starting to realise flight is either something he has to learn on his own, or with other Dragons of our weyr. I try to help, but I’m afraid I’m just confusing him.”
“I haven’t learned much about Dragons,” Jirnethelle said. “What’s a weyr?”
“It’s like a clan,” Khale said. “A community of Dragons living together in the same territory.
“My turn to ask you a question. Were you in Kasasia when the fire happened? Is that how you made it out?”
“Yes,” Jirnethelle sighed. “I shouldn’t have been gone for so long. If I was in Zailmairia when the fire hit maybe I could have—”
“Died like everyone else,” Khale finished.
“I suppose you’re right,” Jirnethelle exhaled shakily. “What about you? You said you were from the Draco Mountains? I’ve never heard of Faeries living up there.”
“They don’t, but I was raised by the Dragons,” Khale said proudly. “Cliff said I was given to the Dragons when I was just a baby.”
“Given? As in, an offering?”
Khale shrugged. “He didn’t say. Though I have to admit, the Dragons wouldn’t be my first choice of foster parents for a child that wasn’t a Dragon.”
“What’s the story behind your wings?” Jirnethelle wondered.
“My wings?” Khale glanced back at them, holding one out slightly. “Why does there have to be a story behind them? Faeries have wings and these are mine. Simple as that.”
“But yours look like a Pegasus’ wings. I’ve never seen or heard of a Faerie with anything other than gossamer.”
“I was born like this,” Khale shrugged. “Don’t know why they’re feathered.
“Do you have friends in any of the other villages?”
“I have a friend that lives in Kzazk,” Jirnethelle said. “My other friend left Zailmairia about five years ago to live with the Wolves in the Piercing Cries Mountains.”
“Why are you out here searching for your father alone instead of with your friend from Kzazk? It’s not that far from Zailmairia, right?”
“Leif and his father are travelling tailors,” Jirnethelle answered. “This time of year they’re either in Hrast or Palacide.” The thought of tailors made him look down at Khale’s boots. Now that she was on the ground he could see that they appeared to be made from Dragon scales. “Where did you get your boots?” he asked.
“My boots?” Khale glanced down at them. “Oh.” Her tone turned melancholy and she said, “They were a gift...in a way.” She continued to stare down at them and fell silent.
“I’m sorry,” Jirnethelle said. “I didn’t realise it was a sensitive topic.”
Khale was silent for several minutes before she inhaled and said, “It’s alright. Hey,” she said, forcing cheer back into her words, “why don’t we come with you to find your father?”
“What?!” Mysty exclaimed.
“Oh,” Jirnethelle said, taking aback. “I appreciate the offer but---”
“But we can’t just go away!” Mysty interrupted.
“Why not?” Khale countered. “It’s not like we have anything else to do.”
“W-well we--we’re not prepared,” Mysty said.
Khale patted Mysty’s neck. “Of course we’re prepared.” She gestured to the packs that lay across the young Unicorn’s back. “We packed to be away from home for a few weeks. What’s a little longer?”
“Wh-what will Cliff think if we don’t return when you said we would?” Mysty asked.
“Cliff will understand,” Khale said. “Besides, I never told him exactly when we’d return. Come on, Mysty. It’ll be fun! You really shouldn’t worry so much. After all, what could possibly go wrong?”
“That’s what you said before we ran into that bee hive,” Mysty moaned.
“Oh...well, that was different,” Khale said. “So, what do you think, Jirnethelle?”
“If you’re certain, then I would be very glad of your company, Khale.” he smiled.
“Then it’s settled. We’ll help you find your father.”

Next Chapter: Chapter Three