They had no real idea where they were.
Caldris had vanished behind them hours ago. At least, he assumed it had.
The roads below didn't match anything he remembered from the maps at Evernight. Too many bends. Too many wild trees. The rivers were wrong. The fences were crooked.
And no one kept torchlight anymore.
Lindarion squinted into the wind. His eyes were dry. The air hurt. But he kept watching. The third village below them had barely ten rooftops and no smoke. Dead farmland, half a wall around it. They didn't slow down.
He didn't want to see it up close anyway.
Behind him, Lira shifted her weight again. He could feel her fingers tightening around one of the ridges in Ashwing's scale. Not out of fear. Just to hold on.
She hadn't said anything since they'd lifted off.
That alone told him how new this was for her.
'She's never ridden a dragon before..well me neither.'
He was sure of it now.
The silence wasn't practiced. It was stunned. Measured.
But she was working hard to keep her posture from showing how much of this made no sense.
He hadn't seen a full-grown dragon until about fifteen minutes before climbing on one either.
Ashwing kept climbing. Not fast now. He was conserving energy. Wings beat every few seconds, long, even strokes that lifted, glided, lifted again. There was rhythm now. Not grace. Just efficiency.
Lindarion adjusted his grip on the base ridge.
His fingers were going numb again.
His face already had.
He leaned down slightly, kept his head close to Ashwing's neck to block the wind. It didn't help much.
Still no real stars above. Too much cloud cover. And even if there had been constellations, he wouldn't have known which ones meant what out here.
'We're not even in Caldris anymore, probably.'
No borders from the sky.
Only trees and quiet.
Lira tapped once on his shoulder. Light. Precise.
He turned his head slightly, and she leaned closer.
"This is insane," she said.
It wasn't fear in her voice.
He shook his head. "First time."
She made a short noise behind him. Not quite a laugh. More like disbelief sharpening into humor just to survive.
"I haven't even seen a full dragon before today."
"You didn't act like it."
"Didn't have time to scream."
He didn't smile. But he heard the words anyway.
She'd just climbed on.
He wasn't sure what that meant yet.
Below, another stretch of forest passed under them. Pine. Tall, crooked. Dark between the gaps. A low river curved through the base of the trees like a scar. No roads led in or out.
"Anything look familiar to you?" he asked.
"Guess we're not in Caldris anymore."
Ashwing adjusted instantly.
A slight bank to the right. The wing dipped. Lira tensed behind him but didn't react outwardly. Her breathing stayed even.
He felt the dragon's body move beneath them. Each flight muscle pulled like coiled rope. Heat still radiated from the ridges. Enough to keep them alive. But not enough to call it warm.
Lindarion squinted ahead.
No lights. No cities. No signs of trade posts.
Nothing but empty land.
They passed over another village. Or what was left of one. Collapsed roofs. A few blackened beams. No movement. No lights. One half-finished wall around the outer edge.
Lindarion pressed a hand to the side of the dragon's neck. Not to give a command. Just to keep connection.
Ashwing let out a slow breath. The wings stayed steady.
Another mile passed. Maybe more. Time didn't move normally up here.
Lira tapped his shoulder again. "We need to land soon."
He glanced back. "Why?"
"His wingbeats are slowing."
Not weaker. Just tired. Ashwing wasn't used to carrying passengers. Not for this long. Not this far.
"I'll look for cover."
"There," she pointed ahead, toward a ridge of trees broken by a set of stones. "Old ruins. Small ones. Can't tell what they were, but they'll block wind."
Lindarion studied the spot. He couldn't see much either, but she was right. It was the best they were going to get before sunrise.
He leaned forward and gave Ashwing a small nudge, not physical. Just focus.
Ashwing responded. His wings shifted inward. They lost height. The cold deepened fast, wind slamming harder now.
Branches rushed up toward them.
Lindarion braced. One hand gripped the scale, the other flat on the back ridge.
Ashwing landed in a low crouch. Not gentle. Not rough either. Just controlled enough not to throw them.
They didn't speak for a second.
Then Lira exhaled behind him.
"That was horrifying."
"Welcome to flying," he muttered.
Ashwing didn't wait for permission.
The moment Lindarion and Lira slid off his back, the dragon lumbered toward the tree line. His steps were slow, each claw pressing deep into the frost. Not limping. Not limbered. Just heavy the way things get when exhaustion isn't about muscle.
Branches cracked ahead, followed by the sound of ice shattering.
Lindarion stepped after him, careful not to draw too close. Through the gaps in the brush, he saw Ashwing lower his body into a shallow stream.
Thin ice cracked around his legs. He crouched in the water, wings folded tight, and drank.
Steam curled off his snout.
He didn't move again.
Lindarion stood for another few seconds, watching the dragon's spine rise and fall with each breath. The rhythm had slowed. Almost sleep.
He pulled back toward the clearing where the ruin stones had collapsed into uneven shapes. Not a full structure. Not even a wall. Just pieces of a shape someone used to live in.
Lira had already picked a corner to drop her pack. She crouched low, shoulders tight from cold, scanning the perimeter.