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Chapter Seven
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Galvarys fought his smile the whole way to the Village
of Rings. He did not like smiling so much. It was very unbecoming for a dragon.
He was ferocious, furious, sly, witty, cunning. He was not a happy, joyful
idiot. Yet the further they flew, the more joy Elyra exuded. The more exuberant
his minion became, the harder it was for the dragon to avoid sharing her
happiness. In the end he gave up his struggle and let the foolish grin mar his
muzzle. The girl couldn’t see it anyway.
His minion prattled the entire trip. Galvarys did not
mind, given that everything she said was about the beauty of flight. Touch the
clouds this, reach the mountains that, how wondrous and amazing and so on. To
Galvarys it was like seeing flight through new eyes. He had not lied when he
told her he never took it for granted. But it had been a long time since he’d
first met the sky.
Galvarys’ first flight was one of his favorite
memories. Long before his own wings were strong enough to carry him, his mother
took him flying. She cradled him against her chest plates, her forelegs wrapped
around him. Her heartbeat was love, her warm grasp security. He remembered how
as the world fell away, his joy grew and grew. He’d laughed and squealed and
waved his little black-striped legs in the air. His mother laughed with him. It
was not a memory he thought of often, but he cherished it nonetheless.
