Chapter Text
“There is a cycle in the world - life and death. It is at the core of all things. The moon embodies this cycle. Bit by bit, it will fade away; then bit by bit it will brighten.” - Lujanne, ‘Through The Moon’
Prologue
There was a saying in Silvergrove that doing the same thing - even after not doing it for a long period of time - was as easy as ‘popping a honeyburst grape.’
Even after hitching a ride on Zubeia, Rayla didn’t think she could ever get used to flying on the Dragon Queen’s backside, especially for long distances.
Zubeia’s surprise visit on the way to the Sea of Castout was welcome, but unexpected. After Rayla and Callum had separated from the pack, Ezran had got that ‘fizzy feeling,’ he explained. It would eventually be revealed that it was Zym, the Dragon Prince himself, seeking out his best friend using their dual connection. Ez’s instinct - fizzy, fuzzy, whatever he wanted to call it - was strange, yes, but positively accurate.
The Dragon Queen landed first, her wide-clawed feet splashing down in the shallow marsh, and Pyrrah touched down after. Zym’s frantic, celebratory circles ended with a bantherhound-like pounce on Ezran, who welcomed his draconic pal’s zappy kisses with gusto.
But Rayla, Soren, and Callum looked up at Her Majesty with concern in their eyes.
“There is word from Domina Profundis,” Zuebia explained, not even greeting the circle of friends, and getting right to the point, “that a group of travelers have entered her territory: an Earthblood elf leading two human mages.”
Immediately, Soren sighed. “ That would be my dad and sister,” he dejectedly responded.
Ezran’s draconic snuggles paused as he heard these words, and Zym, too, looked up at his beastly mother. “Isn’t that where we want to be, though?” Ez asked genuinely. “Wouldn’t it be best to go after them?”
The Dragon Queen’s reptilian eyes blinked slowly, “And what would chasing them do, young king?”
Ezran thought for a moment, a finger on his chin in contemplation even as Zym nearly squashed his form. But Callum stepped forward, understanding the Queen’s implication. “We’ve already tried beating them to the chase,” the mage added thoughtfully, “and that didn’t work.” He actually glanced at Rayla as he said the next words, his eyes round and shiny.
“And we almost lost…”
But here Callum paused, and the words were gone as he quickly looked away; the elf couldn’t help but feel a ping at his words. Yet it only took a moment for Callum’s resolve to return. “If we can’t beat them…”
“We need to outsmart them,” Ezran finished, the pieces falling like a puzzle into place.
And so, just like that, the Dragang found themselves on the backside of a set of dragons, with the littlest dragon flying by their side.
Much like their journey into Umber Tor, Callum had taken flight with Soren on Pyrrah, and Ezran and Rayla occupied the Queen herself.
Rayla couldn’t help but glance over at the smaller, redder Dragon, who had pulled ahead despite her smaller size. Stella, her cuddlemonkey, gripped the elf’s shoulder fiercely as the wind whipped her fur. Rayla felt the creature’s little claws dig into her skin, even underneath her clothing, as it held on.
She felt a hand on her shoulder as Ezran sidled up beside her.
“You okay, Rayla?” he asked, brotherly concern emanating from his tone. “Did you and Callum…?”
Rayla nodded as the breeze ruffled her own clothes. “We did talk… Your Majesty .” She tried answering in jest, but her words were undeniably damp. “King’s orders, I promise we did.”
But Ezran only frowned deeper. “Then why aren’t you riding with him?” the young king asked.
The Moonshadow Elf looked ahead as Pyrrah’s feathery horns created a whirlwind of crimson. “I can’t answer that, Ezran,” she responded honestly, and then added, “but I can tell you we’re working on being friends.” There was only a hint of dejection in her voice as the last words left Rayla’s lips.
Ezran’s eyes widened, as if this was news to him. But his hand only gripped Rayla’s shoulders harder. “I know Callum is pretending to put on this tough act, now that he’s High Mage and all…” Now the young boy stared at the accompanying dragon, too. “Don’t let that fool you, Rayla. He missed you… Every. Single. Day. ” The young boy pronounced each syllable with vigor. Then he added, gentler this time, “I think Callum’s just coming to terms with…things. And…he’s always been soft on the inside.” At this, Ezran pulled the elf into a hug. “He’ll come around, Rayla. I know it.”
Rayla returned the embrace, her young friend’s words oddly comforting. “You always know just what to say, Ez.” She squeezed her companion. “You are pretty wise for such a young king.”
Ezran beamed, and gently scratched Stella’s downy ears. He stopped, though, as Zubeia’s altitude began to dip.
“I can see it,” piped the boy, breaking free from the hug. “We’re almost home!”
Indeed, the duel towers of Katolis were like a lighthouse on a stormy night. As the caravan of heroes approached, Rayla couldn’t help but smile at the anticipation of once again visiting the kingdom that started it all.
And, she admitted to herself, it will be nice to sleep in a real bed again.
Zubia began her descent, and Zym plunged down, whirling in delight at the site of the city. The Valley of the Graves came into view, large and beckoning and impressive. Rayla could see soldiers scurrying like little ants, no doubt concerned about a giant dragon now flying into their port-of-call. Those guarding the entrance began rushing on horseback, concern and confusion clear on their features…but when they realized just who would be landing, there was a sudden, tremendous din.
A soldier broke free from the formation. Within seconds, he was up at the watertower, and a call - like a deep, tremendous horn - sounded through the air, reverberating against every rock, every gate, and every person as the Dragon Queen landed.
The signal was clear. The King of Katolis has returned.