Ryan sighed as he steadied the heavy lance in his cramping hand. They’d been at it all day and still Lauri wanted more. “When you’re a Rider, that doesn’t mean you just ride on your dragon and laugh as he does all the work for you. You fight! You’re aware and you always have your dragon’s back. You fight as one. Let me demonstrate.”  She was astride Vali, who was fully tacked in fearsome dragon armor, making her look even scarier than before. A spike, not unlike a unicorn horn protruded from the armor protecting her skull along with a ling of spikes running down the plates on her neck and tail. Armor shone on her sides and legs, shifting as she pranced in place with uncharacteristic energy. Lauri was also in full armor, her helmet sporting a plume that shivered slightly in the wind. In her hand, she easily held her ridiculously long lance straight up in the air, where it hovered at twenty feet high.

Then Vali broke into a run, charging at the string of human-shaped hay targets which were moved by a series of ropes and a strange machine which a man cranked wildly as the huge dragon approached. Ryan was amazed at how silent the armor was as Vali’s body coiled and shot forward in crazy spurts. It should be impossible. But he had always known that Vali was more in tune with her magic than most other dragons. Still, her effortless beauty and power was enough to make his jaw go slack. Lauri lowered her lance, impaling the first hay target at an easy sixty miles an hour. The second one swung from a rope, running from the palace roof to the training grounds. Vali reared onto her hind legs, roaring as if she were amidst a real battle. Lauri hung on using only her legs, her braid vertical to the ground. She stabbed the target neatly through the middle before it could fly past.

The rest went by in a flurry of motion that even Ryan could hardly see. Lauri and Vali are a terror, Thistle said gravely, I’d hate to be on her bad side.

Ryan knew what he was talking about. He couldn’t help but steal a glance towards the ice dragon and Rider as they stood silent as stone next to them, watching with all the ferocity of a hawk eyeing a rabbit. They had hardly talked the whole time, even when Thistle had tried to make a conversation with Fraylon. The ice dragon, usually so pleasant and personable was now as cold and distant as his Rider.

It didn’t fool Ryan, though. When Thistle and him flew up to their room, they almost always passed Daemon’s room. And especially when they were returning from late-night patrolling, they would find Fraylon on the balcony, keening to the soft moon. When he did this, his voice would rise so high that humans couldn’t hear it. But Ryan and his dragon could. It was one of the most beautiful sounds Ryan had ever heard, both heart wrenching and mysterious. He had heard it before, many years ago in the icy realm of Grunde. It was the call of an ice dragon that had lost something very dear to him. He was grieving.

But now Ryan could recognize something new in his soft blue eyes. A hardness, like his heart was coated in a thick layer of ice to protect his fragile, hurting heart. Ryan was concerned by this. No matter what the pain you are going through you go through it with your dragon or Rider. You never harden your heart against them or things are bound to go ill. He brought it up to Thistle. Don’t tell anyone I said this but I feel like they were never the best match. Yes, I know that opposites can work- just look at Ralem and Jaydon. They are polar opposites yet they are such a great pair. But Daemon just doesn’t seem to be of Rider material. I know he must love Fraylon, but… I don’t know. Something’s not right about them.

Thistle caught what he was thinking and swished his tail agitatedly. We must not be so quick to judge. Okay, they’ve been a bit more frosty lately but that’s because they’ve been through a lot. We’d probably be the same way if it was us.

No we wouldn’t. Okay, it would stink, but still we’d have each other. But they seem to have closed each other out, trying to go through this alone. That can’t be good.

“Ryan, what have I just told you?” Lauri’s voice came. He jolted in his saddle, grabbing for the horn in his surprise. Vali had sidled up next to them and Lauri was looking down from her mount with steely eyes. “What have I told you about talking to your dragon when someone is speaking? Not only is it rude, but it catches you off guard. I could have killed you right now and you would have never known. If it’s so important, say it out loud.”

“Yes ma’am,” Ryan said, looking fixedly at his gloved hand.

“Okay, since you weren’t listening it’s your turn first. Go on.”

Thistle loped to the starting point, his hind legs bunched for the powerful kick-off. Ryan tensed on his back, his sweaty palms losing grip of the lance. I wish this was darts instead! He thought vehemently.

Here we go, Thistle warned, before jumping skyward. He thrust his wings down in a powerful downthrust. Another stroke sent him high above their heads. He circled the training field lazily, before diving towards the first target. Ryan bent low on his back, feeling the rush of adrenaline as the ground rose up to meet them. He had never lost the fascination of flying, and never would. He lowered his lance.

Ptha! Thistle shot a glob of poison at the victim right before Ryan impaled it with a flurry of hay. “Definitely dead,” he told Thistle smugly as the scarecrow’s hay guts were eaten away by the poison.

“Good job!” Lauri called from the sidelines, “The mixed use of poison and stabbing is a good technique to make sure someone is assured a quick death! Now get the next one!”

Thistle gained altitude before angling his wings and pulling them closer to his body. At the last second he unfurled his wings and pulled out of the nosedive, his frill raised defensively at the next target, which bobbed around a bush. Ryan struggled to aim at the cavorting target, his weak hand shaking from the pressure. Get it! Thistle yelled as they swooped in for the kill. Ryan wormed the lance pathetically in the air and Thistle tilted his wings, trying to angle his body so that his Rider could aim better. Ryan thrusted at the scarecrow’s leering face a little too hard. His lance fell out of his hands, cracked painfully on Thistle’s wing, and flipped off, almost clipping the side of poor Thistle’s head. He watched it fall into the grass with a grimace. Sorry, Thistle,

Thistle flapped forwards two times, his hind legs lowered for the descent. He landed lightly on his feet. It’s okay. You were doing great. Everyone messes up, Thistle said kindly.

This is my third time! Ryan replied bleakly.

Lauri didn’t seem as impressed. “Ryan Mynor. What do you think you’re doing? You’re supposed to impale the hay figure, not your dragon.”

Ryan heaved a great sigh, “I’m tired, Lauri.”

Lauri raised an eyebrow. “Tired? Tired isn’t going to cut it in the battlefield. You can’t call a time out, unless you’re dead.”

“But Lauri, you know the javelin and lance aren’t my thing. Can’t I just practice my darts?” He knew he was walking on thin ice. Lauri never really approved of his weapon choice. He could feel Thistle stiffen under him as Lauri’s gaze hardened.

“Are you saying you can’t take this? Ryan, you aren’t fooling me with your cutesy little boy looks. I know you’ve got more strength than you let on.” Vali nodded in agreement.

Thistle spoke up, “He is tired, Commander Lauri. We both are. And he isn’t made for carrying lances. Perhaps-”

“Do not give me advice on how to train you! You do what I say, understand? Or you’ll be patrolling the perimeter all night tonight. So I advise you to keep your trap shut or you’ll find yourself in a world trouble. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes ma’am,” Ryan said.

“Then do it. Again,” Lauri waved her hand impatiently.

Ryan slid off the saddle to retrieve his lance.  He mounted again with some trouble, his unwieldy lance seeming to vibrate in his grasp live a live animal. Finally he threw his leg over the side of the saddle and relaxed into the comfortable leather seat. With a sigh, Thistle jumped off the ground and flapped hard, twice. And they tried again. And again.

Lauri gave them pointers, telling Thistle how to move in a way that would help his Rider aim, how to angle his wings to offer the best protection, how to use scare tactics to freeze the enemy in their tracks. Ryan needed a little more guidance on the subject. He was grumpy as anything and came to absolutely detest the lance and everything it stood for.

Finally Lauri gave them a break to see how Daemon and Fraylon were doing. Vali had set them aside to do a practice run. Now Ryan and Thistle landed by the cove of trees and Thistle flopped like a tired cat onto the grass. Before he could curl onto the ground, Ryan tumbled into the grass and just laid there, too lazy to get up. He stared at the wreath of glowing green leaves overhead, swaying in the breeze. Thistle curled his tail around Ryan and pulled him closer to his heaving green chest. They sat there for a while, listening to Lauri bark at Fraylon and his Rider.

Finally Thistle spoke. “How about you play your flute? I know you have it in your back pocket.”

Ryan obliged, rolling over slightly so that he could retrieve it. Wetting his lips, he began to play. Soon the notes rolled from the instruments like a lullaby, rippling through the forest sounds with an enigmatic effect. The birds stopped singing to listen to the beautiful sound, stopping what they were doing to flutter to a branch near him, their heads cocked at the wonderful sound. Thistle hummed along with the tune, his spiked tail tapping along with the rhythm. Thistle loved music, especially Ryan’s. Ever since he was a wee hatchling he had loved all kinds of music. When he was small, he would sway as if in a trance, sometimes falling over backwards with his eyes rolling back in pleasure. Now his head bobbed as he sang the lyrics, his voice low and humble.

They didn’t even listen as Lauri chewed Daemon out. If they thought she was being hard on them, she was being just plain cruel to the ice dragon and Rider. She pushed them to their limits, emotionally and physically. Neither Daemon or his dragon said a word during the whole ordeal. Their determination shone like the sweat on his forehead and the crystalline ice on Fraylon’s scales. Daemon was a warrior. Fraylon a survivor. Together they were built to succeed, if they managed to actually work together. “Come on!” Lauri screamed at them from astride Vali, “You call that teamwork? Daemon, you’re off in your own little world while Fraylon’s trying to take things down himself! I’ve trained hatchlings that were better at teamwork than you bumbling sloths! Come on, communication is key! Get the target!”

Finally after a whole hour of horrible teamwork that could rival that of Jaydon nearly killing his Rider, Lauri had had enough. Once again, Daemon had aimed his lance at a target, while Fraylon had flapped hard to attack the one mounted on top of a hay bale. Daemon’s lance had gotten tied up in the elbow of Fraylon’s wing, almost wrenching it from his grasp. Losing his rhythm, Fraylon skidded to an awkward landing, Daemon almost tumbling off his back. Even before Fraylon could take off again, Vali roared for them to stop their training and come into a huddle. Lauri dismounted and in respect, Daemon did the same. “Daemon, you tell me right now what’s going on between you and Fraylon before things turn bad to worse. Where’s the communication? Where’s the reliance on one another? You are to fight as one, not split up and conquer. Tell me, how is your connection with him?”

“It’s just fine,” Daemon said, his voice not belying any emotion. Icy blue eyes gazed past Lauri and into the forest.

“No it’s not,” Fraylon blurted. Daemon twisted to glare at him. Fraylon avoided his stare and met Lauri’s. “It’s been horrible for a long time now.” Lauri stayed silent, prompting him to continue. Fraylon shifted his talons, “I mean, I know how it feels like to have a strong connection. Daemon and I used to be closer than brothers in the wilds of Grunde, hunting as one! And I knew he was lonely, and missed his people, but I was happy.” Daemon tried staring him down but Fraylon continued spilling his guts. “And when he found out about you guys- people who accepted dragons and Riders- well everything changed. All he cared about was getting here, and now that he’s here all he wants is to be back with his people. And ever since then, our connection has dwindled to almost nothing. I can hardly tell what he’s feeling, let alone what’s on his mind. He never talks to me anymore. And I feel almost… lost.” At that, he fell silent, his wings folding over his face to hide his embarrassment. He had no clue where that speech had come from.

An emotion flashed across Daemon’s face, then quickly disappeared.

Vali spoke up this time. Her huge head dipped forward and nudged away the ice dragon’s wings before pressing her forehead to his. “Small one,” her deep, melodic voice soothed him, “It is not your fault. You have done your best, and have been a great partner to your Rider.” She blinked slowly, staying there for a moment more.

Finally she broke contact and Fraylon swayed as if he had been hit, his beautiful wings curling to his side. Vali turned to Daemon, her gaze fierce. “As for you, Rider. You are a selfish pig.”

Daemon blinked.

Fraylon opened his mouth to protest, but a flick from Vali’s tail warned him to keep his trap shut. This time Lauri spoke, “Vali’s right. You need to keep your priorities straight, young man. Your king is not going to have your back in the time of your greatest need. Your people are not going to be behind you all the way. None of your greatest friends can have the highest honor of soul-brother. And I know for a fact that nobody cares for you more in the world than your dragon. That in itself demands respect. And you know who’s going to be there for you, all your long life? He is. So I want you right now to get to your knees and ask for his forgiveness.”

Daemon faltered. His expression read, seriously? Fraylon’s ears flicked in embarrassment. Neither the sea dragon nor the Rider even blinked. Daemon gulped and dropped to his knees. When he spoke, his words sounded like it came from a bullfrog. “Fraylon, I’m- I’m sorry. I didn’t know it would hurt you so much. I guess I still think of you as the little hatchling who was always satisfied as long as I gave him the occasional belly rub. And I know I’ve been really rough on you lately and I’m sorry. If you give me a chance I could really try to be a better Rider. I know if I was you, I wouldn’t forgive me but now I’m asking; will you forgive me?” He closed his eyes and waited for the rejection. Brick by imaginary brick, he tore that wall down between himself and his dragon, letting him into every dark mark he was trying to hide, every mask he had created for himself, all the things he had done that he was not proud of. Everything that he was vainly pretending didn’t exist. He had built these walls because he had forgotten how deep a dragon’s love is.

And Fraylon came in, his presence like a breath of sweet mountain air. Three simple words rippled through his mind like a healing melody; I forgive you. Slender taloned hands pulled him to the dragon’s icy chest, where the most beautiful sound was thrumming through the ice dragon’s body. It was a hum, something that he had not done in a long time. It’s so good to have you back, he purred.

Daemon sunk into his dragon, his heart feeling like it had grown wings. It’s good to be back. I love you, my little Fray.

Lauri watched with a pleased expression as Fraylon hummed a hauntingly beautiful tune. She just hoped this would last. The faithful little ice dragon deserved it. Lauri hadn’t seen many dragons who were as soft hearted and sensitive as Fraylon was. Personally, she thought they wouldn’t last long in war, but they were all she got. She better do her part and hope for the best. Because, according to her spies in Vulnaire, a war was coming. And it was coming fast. Apparently some Vulnarian radicals that happened to be in high positions had been stirring up lies concerning Baroke, and it seemed she would finally have her war.

But now Fraylon had finally let go of his Rider and they tumbled apart, smiling widely. Lauri knew it was time to rain on their parade. Call Ryan, she told Vali. Vali bugled to signal the others to come, making Daemon jump and Fraylon almost take to the skies.

Within seconds Ryan and Thistle reappeared, looking alert. They slid next to Fraylon and Daemon, waiting for Lauri to begin. She pulled out her satchel and fumbled for something, her eyes trained on her miniscule army. “Don’t think your training is over. You have yet to acquire a taste of what fighting real cats is. Unfortunately I can’t duplicate that for you” –fortunately, you mean, Thistle told his Rider- “But the next best thing is this.” With that she pulled out two mud figures, shaped roughly in the shape of a man.

Ryan’s eyes widened, “No way,” he whispered. Thistle’s jaw slackened, “Are you trying to kill us?” he protested.

She smiled, “I’ll stop them before they do any real damage.”

“How did you get them?” Ryan wheezed, “You couldn’t have-”

Lauri shrugged it off, “Got them while he was sleeping. Believe me, I hate using these up, but you need the practice. And I have more if needed.”

“What are you talking about?” Daemon shook his head out of lala land.

“This,” Lauri smashed both to the ground, one on either side of her. Nothing happened.

Daemon raised an eyebrow, “Serio”-

“Shut up and watch,” Lauri snapped. And sure enough, the clay was building, twisting and growing taller than all the Riders. Daemon took a step back as the clay took on features, raven hair sliding over one eye and spiking up everywhere, expressive eyebrows stagnant on its smooth face. It's eyes were closed, long eyelashes fanning olive cheeks. The rest of the body quickly followed, long legs and muscular torso that were covered in an expensive leather jerkin and pantaloons. The other one looked exactly  alike. "What? But I don't understand!" Daemon cried.

"Don't worry," Lauri said wryly, "it's not really him. But it is what you are going to be trying your mettle with. These are the Ton Doppelts of Jaydon, and it can fight just like him too." She fondled its hand, applying pressure to the palms before massaging upwards, towards its fingers. Inch by inch, huge, jagged claws emerged. She did this to both of them, wishing upon wish that the real Jaydon was among them. How she needed him right now....

“Wait- so you mean we’re fighting against them?” Fraylon asked, in awe.

“No. You’re going to have a tea party with them and braid each other’s hair.” She rolled her eyes, “Of course you’re going to fight them. I don’t have an actual cat to have you fight so this is the next best thing.” She smiled proudly at the clay statues, “I collected these just a week before the ball. He had been so tired that night after training he had fallen asleep in his pie. I found him before Ralem did, luckily with all my supplies.”

Thistle was horrified. How many did she get? He knew that creating too many of the Ton Doppelts can draw so much magic from a dragon, or a human for that matter, that it could kill them. “How many?” he couldn’t help but ask.

Lauri saw the look on his face, “I didn’t collect these all at once. But it’s amazing how fast his magic restores itself.” She smiled hungrily as she took its hand and admired the talons. Thistle was disgusted. He raised his frill halfway, She’s been using him!

Ryan put a steadying hand on Thistle’s snout, watching Lauri’s eyes become distant. She had that look on her face, like that of a fawning lady with big, dopey eyes. Eww! “You like him?” he accidentally blurted out loud.

Lauri was so surprised she jumped sideways. “No!” she said, with so much ferocity it made Ryan shrink away. “I can’t believe you think that! That has got to be one of the stupidest things you’ve ever said.”

Vali swished her tail, “She doesn’t like him,” she said, as if she were soothing a toddler. “But he is a very powerful dragon. Lauri?”

            “Oh. Yes,” Lauri looked a little embarrassed. Her face smoothed back to expressionless, “This will be almost like fighting a cat.” She stepped back, “He’s about six foot five. Imagine him three feet taller and covered in fur and you’ve got a Jag, or an adult male.”

            “I’ve fought with Ralem before and beat him soundly,” Daemon said gruffly, not impressed.

            “This is not Ralem. And even if it was, I doubt you could beat him again. He’s had three months of my training. And so has Jaydon. They are killing machines. That is why this will be quite new to you. Just remember, defend yourselves and each other. Even if these don’t have Jaydon’s healing powers they are pretty darn hard to kill.”

            “Yeah,” Ryan winced, thinking of the one that had broken Jaydon’s back.

            “Okay, so Daemon- since you’re so confident you’ll beat him, you’re first. Mount.” She folded her arms and expected a show.

            Daemon mounted, his lance held awkwardly in his hand. Ryan handed him his hunting knives, “You’re going to need this,” he said. Daemon thanked him, but was getting increasingly nervous. What kind of magic was he dealing with?

            “Go on. Poke him with the lance,” Lauri prodded.

            Fraylon hesitantly edged closer, bent like a cat on the prowl. His angular head swayed left to right, tasting its scent. Daemon lowered his lance. Faster! He urged. Fraylon jumped forward and Daemon’s lance aimed straight at where its heart would lay.

            Right before it could be impaled, it neatly sidestepped and Fraylon charged right by it in a blur of white. Its eyes opened, revealing milky white pupils which seemed to stare past everything. It coughed. “Where am I?”

            Vali’s webbed ears perked forward in alarm. “Lauri? I thought you labeled the größten Doppel!”

            Lauri bit her lip, “I thought I did too!”

            Ryan fluidly mounted his dragon and took to the skies. “How does it know how to talk?” he yelled.

            The größten Doppel blinked. “Lauri? What’s going on?”

            Lauri unstrapped her javelin warily, “Jaydon, you’re in the park. See, over there?” she pointed with her javelin at Fraylon and Daemon, who had stalled on the other side of the field. “Daemon and Fraylon have returned. And I give you permission to kill them.”

            It smiled a dragon smile, complete with fangs and a forked tongue. “My pleasure. Where is my Rider?”

            Vali swept her fanned tail over the other Doppel. Lauri’s smiled tensed. This didn’t work out the way I wanted. I was going to use this for the battle! Now I’ve wasted a perfectly good größten Doppel on training!

            You should have labeled it, Vali said sternly.

            The doppel shifted, its talons clicking against each other. “Where is he?” It sounded agitated.

            Lauri readied her javelin if things turned bad. “He’s busy,” she said soothingly, “And besides, if he was here would he let you kill Daemon?”

            It seemed to think about it. “I suppose not.” It turned its milky eyes to the ice dragon, “Attack now?”

            “Yes. Now,” Lauri said. She had only made a größten Doppel one other time in her life. They were scary, with all the memories and battle skill of their possessor, and so hard to kill. And they were smart. In fact, a größten Doppel of a particularly powerful Rider had once been sent to kill her by its owner. That had been the fight of her life. But a größten Doppel of a dragon would be an outright assassin. These, special types of Doppels were the perfect way to kill someone without doing the dirty work yourself.

            Vali crouched uneasily beside her, her eyes trained on the clay creature. We must be careful with such a powerful Dopple.

            Lauri nodded in agreement before shouting to the ice dragon, “Come on! Fight! And be wary, for this one will be more than you bargained for! Hold nothing back!”

            Fraylon took to the skies, circling Jaydon’s clay double, which was now hunched over, its milky eyes following their every movement. Daemon readied his lance and gulped. Dive. We’ll catch it by surprise.

            Fraylon folded his wings to his side and dove, his talons outstretched and teeth bared. Daemon aimed for its head, both hands trying to steady the weapon.

            It summersaulted out of the way before shooting upwards at the ice dragon’s retreating tail. Fraylon screamed when the talons locked on his tail. Daemon twisted in the saddle to find Jaydon’s face smiling at him, climbing hand-over-hand up Fraylon’s tail. He tried to turn the lance, but it was too long of a weapon to use for short distance attacks. Thinking fast, he latched it into the saddle before pulling out his hunting knives just as the clay creature made it to Fraylon’s haunches. “Hello Daemon,” it snarled, flicking a forked tongue. “I have waited long for this hour.”

            “What are you?” Daemon cried, dropping back into the saddle. Fraylon- barrel roll! Fraylon quickly responded, his wings twirling in a complete three-sixty as he flipped through the air. Daemon sank lower in the saddle, clinging to the horn as the world spun around him. Finally Fraylon righted himself and soared over the castle. Did we lose him?

            Daemon gasped as strong hands grabbed him from the back and yanked him out of the saddle. “Think you lost me?” clay Jaydon sneered as he held Daemon by the shoulders like a little kid. Fraylon roared and tried to crane his neck around to snap at it, but he couldn’t reach that far. Daemon cringed when he felt talons press into his shoulder, just enough so that it wouldn’t break his skin. It licked its fangs, “Puny human. You are nothing to me. I could crush you like a bug underfoot.” The talons pressed harder. Daemon! Fraylon cried.

            “Not just yet,” Daemon said, plunging his knife into its heart.

            It paused to look down at the wound. Daemon plunged it deeper and the silver point protruded from its back. Jaydon’s double looked up and smiled. Daemon plunged the other knife into its chest, gritting his teeth. The Dopple hissed and kicked him hard in the chest, knocking the air out of his lungs. Daemon screamed breathlessly as he felt empty air meet his fall. “Daemon!” Fraylon roared. On his back, the dopple was carelessly pulling the knives out of its chest and letting them fall like silver streaks to the ground below.

            Fraylon pulled into a nosedive and snatched his Rider before he could fall to the ground. He held him close to his chest before saying, hold on. I’m going to lose him. Blue eyes narrowed in determination, Fraylon powered upwards, so high that the castle looked like a picture on a quilt. On his back, the Doppel was trying to turn into his dragon form. Unfortunately, he wasn’t really Jaydon the Ventus Magnus Rex. He was just a clay replica of Jaydon the dragon-turned-human. But he was so engrossed in his transformation that he didn’t know to hold on when Fraylon veered sharply to the left and start a rapid corkscrew before snapping his wings out and swerving suddenly skyward. The dopple’s feet suddenly left Fraylon’s back and he hung there for a long second before falling to its death.

            A flash of conifer and Thistle scooped it up. “Meet us on the ground!” Ryan yelled. Both Rider’s stomachs flipped as they plummeted. Finally both dragons let their wings open to catch the air and use it to cushion their fall. Thistle set clay Jaydon to the grass before settling on his haunches. Fraylon did the same to Daemon. He got to his feet, sputtering, “Lauri- this is madness! This thing is going to kill us!”

            Clay Jaydon shot to his feet to make an attack but Lauri said, “Stop!” sharply and it froze. She turned to Daemon, “Not as easy as you thought, huh? I want you to try again, this time on the ground. Don’t let it climb on your dragon’s back. If a cat ever does that it could easily tear Fraylon’s wings off and then you’re definitely dead. Where’s your knives?”

            “I stabbed him but he threw them to the ground,” Daemon said glumly.

            “Here’s my pair. Don’t lose them,” she warned before handing him two deadly, curved knives that she had strapped to her thighs. “And don’t just stab. Tear him apart! I know he talks, but remember he isn’t real. Don’t forget that. Now mount.” Daemon did so and Fraylon took to the skies.

            “Gehen!” Lauri signaled. Immediately the creature shivered to life. And then the fun really began.

            Ryan looked at his own ‘cat’. It looked so peaceful, so little like the real Jaydon who was always full of some sort of emotion. But the talons curving from the limp hands were enough to send a shiver up his spine. He couldn’t imagine an army of creatures with claws like that, able to rip Thistle’s wings off with just one blow!

            We’ll be fine, Thistle said, If one even tries to hurt us, some good old fashion acid in the eyes should do the trick. And besides, how about our fart grenades? Do you think those will do any damage?

            Ryan laughed at the thought of cats gasping for air in a huge green cloud. Yeah, probably. Hey, how about we prank Duke Harold after this is done? That should be a good laugh. I already have an idea…

            A scream. They looked over to see Jaydon’s double impaled on the lance, his talons scratching frantically on the metal. Lauri congratulated Daemon for the good work, but the sight made Ryan feel sick inside. The größten Doppel was crying in fury, calling for his Rider in such plaintive tones that it wrenched Ryan’s heart, even if it wasn’t real. “Rider!” he cried, “Why have you deserted me? Where are you? Help me, please! Please help me!” It clutched at the metal running through its chest, tears running down its face and creating muddy streaks.

            Poor sensitive Fraylon pranced in place, throwing his head nervously, “Make it stop!” he pleaded to Lauri, “Please, make it stop!”

            “Stop!” Lauri commanded. Immediately it went limp. She turned to the dragon, “It’s not real!”

            Fraylon ducked his head, “I know. But I can’t take it. I can’t take this anymore!”

            “Sorry, but you’re going to have to. War is not about putting flowers in each other’s hair and polishing each other’s scales. It’s about killing. You can’t afford to spare people, when they will stab you in the back when they have the chance. Now go on. Do it again.” She grabbed the lance and kicked the clay creature. When it fell it had a huge hole in its chest. “We aren’t stopping until this thing can’t even move.”

            She let them practice again and again until they had found their groove, a way to work together that would be the best weapon for a cat. The Dopple was starting to look very mutilated, but it continued to work. Soft Fraylon could hardly stand it. He let his Rider do all the dirty work. Once, he retreated to vomit in the forest. Ryan felt bad for him. He knew Fraylon wasn’t made for war, or for killing for that matter. He was made for hunting small things like rabbit and fish and for looking beautiful and for flying. He was too slender and feminine for tearing people to bits and stomping them into the ground.

            Lauri was thinking the same thing as she watched Fraylon lunge at the mangled clay thing half-heartedly. She knew that training the young dragon for war would not only be changing who he was, but it would also take away some of his innocence. If she succeeded into making him into a warrior, he would no longer be Fraylon. That seemed to be crossing the line. Somehow, it felt worse training the four-year-old frost dragon than the five-month-old wind dragon. With Jaydon it had felt right, like he was created for it. Jaydon…

            She knew she was a bit obsessive over the wind dragon, but he was one of the Firstborn! He is basically a legend in the making… and it was all in her grasp. She could do anything with him under her command. If he was killed…. They were sunk. Unless Ezra and Renaldi make it back from Alleria with their forces. All she could do was hope that the trained group of trackers and assassins she had sent would find them in time. Her thoughts wandered as she imagined them out there on their own… hopefully kicking some cat butt.