by Ramy Vance
When she took another deep breath and tried to open her eyes, she couldn’t. There was no way to get past the light, which was otherworldly-bright. She pulled her knees close and cried softly from the pulsing awakening in her head as she put the blindfold back on.
The sound of the door opening broke her reflections, and she jumped. “Who’s there?” Alex asked, her voice cracking.
The sound of beating wings filled the room, and they were getting closer. “It’s me, Jollies. Just got back from breakfast. Figured you didn’t have any. Hold on, all right?”
Jollies’ fluttering wings disappeared for a moment, came back, then vanished again. The noise continued for a couple of minutes until the door shut completely. Alex felt a tiny soft hand on her wrist. The touch moved down her hand to her finger, grabbing it tightly.
Jollies guided Alex to the desk by tugging on her finger. There were two plates of food there that Alex hadn’t even smelled because Jollies had been moving so fast.
She moved Alex’s hand to a pair of utensils and released her. “Got the best of the best. Don’t want you going hungry or anything like that.”
Alex dug into the food. She was famished. The night of sleep had been good for her head but not her stomach. She ate so fast that she hardly tasted what went into her mouth. She was too busy inhaling everything edible near her. Suddenly she stopped. “Wait, how did you get all this here?”
Jollies laughed, and Alex could hear her zipping around her head. “Pixies are extremely strong. We can lift nearly three hundred times our body weight. You can’t tell when you look at me, but…”
Jollies’ voice trailed off. Alex was used to that happening. A lot of people thought she would be offended at the choice of words, but Alex had come to terms with that a long time ago. It was just a phrase.
Alex smiled to let Jollies know everything was okay. “Don’t worry about it. I know what you mean,” Alex said. “And when I did see you, I wouldn’t have imagined you could lift so much.”
“Yeah, I could probably lift you if I put my mind to it.”
Alex burped loudly as she wondered if she could cram any more food into her stomach. “So, what all did I miss?” Alex asked. “I’m assuming Gill and Brath had something to say about me passing out.”
Jollies didn’t answer at first. Alex wished Manny was there. She’d started to get used to looking at new people as she spoke. Finally, Jollies answered, “Well, Gill didn’t say much,” Jollies admitted. “But Brath…he had a lot to say. It’s probably best if I leave it to your imagination.”
“You know, usually, it’s the opposite of that. You don’t leave it up to anyone’s imagination because they make it worse than what was actually said.”
“Oh, well. He said you’re a pathetic human who will never amount to anything in the dragonriders, and it would have been better for you if you’d never been born.”
Alex sat there quietly for a moment while she tried to compose herself. She remembered what Jollies had told her about Brath, about him losing his home realm. That didn’t make his words sting any less. “Maybe I should have just used my imagination.” Alex groaned.
“You gonna tell me what Myrddin did to you that made you pass out?”
Alex pointed to the blindfold around her eyes. “Well, no reason to beat around the bush,” she said. “Everyone knows I’m blind. Myrddin cast a spell that gave me sight, but it turns out he gave me dragon sight, and it’s tied to Chine. It’s too detailed and too focused, especially for me.”
“Maybe you just need practice.”
Jollies flew over to Alex and landed on her shoulder. “What if I helped you get a handle on all this?” the pixie asked. “I mean, we are roommates and everything. We’re going to be spending a lot of time together. It’s probably like using a muscle.”
Alex tilted her head in the direction of Jollies’ voice. “What do you mean?”
“You know how if you don’t use a muscle for a long time, it gets weak? Since you’ve never really used your eyes, you’re probably not used to flexing that muscle. It might just take practice. Like, we should train you up to it?”
“Sounds like bad anime.”
“That’s one of those human cartoons, right?”
Alex chuckled as she nodded her head. “Do you know anything about humans? Like, our culture or anything?”
“Probably about the same amount you know about pixies. Things I’ve read or was told about. You’re the first human I’ve ever met, not counting Myrddin. I personally don’t think he’s human anymore, though. Now, you ready to give it a try?”
Alex sighed. She didn’t want to look weak in front of Jollies. Asking for help was not something she was particularly good at; it rubbed her the wrong way. But Jollies was offering to give her a hand, and it was fairly obvious she needed the help. “All right,” Alex muttered.
“Great!” Jollies exclaimed as she flew around Alex’s head. “We should start with something small. Like, I will pick something, and you see if you can look at it. How’s that sound?”
It sounded like Jollies was pulling ideas out of her ass, but that didn’t keep her mood from being infectious. “All right. What are we going to start with?” Alex asked.
Jollies grabbed Alex’s hand again and pulled it across the table, resting it on what felt like a clock. Alex felt around until she was certain. “The clock?”
“Exactly. I figured that would be easy enough. Now, take off your blindfold, and let’s get started.”
Alex removed the blindfold and held it in her palm. Her eyes were still shut tightly. She was afraid of opening them. The pain was going to come instantly, just as it had before. She wanted to avoid the pain—and to avoid the failure.
Jollies tapped Alex’s ear impatiently. “Ready?” she chirped.
I’m going to have to figure this out sometime, Alex thought. Otherwise, I can kiss riding Chine goodbye.
The thought of riding the dragon perked Alex up. There had been so much going on that she’d briefly forgotten she was enrolled in a program that would take her back to the skies. She couldn’t give up yet. There was no way she was going to let that possibility slip away.
Alex peeked through her left eye, opening it a crack—hardly at all. The pain was immediate. The light in the room was like a knife to her eye socket. She yelped with pain and shut it before the headache could set in.
Jollies flew down and rested on Alex’s hand. “You hardly even got one open!”
“Jollies, I know that. It’s a lot harder than it seems.”
“I’ll say. It looks like you’re having a very hard time.”
“I don’t know what pixies think is encouraging, but by human standards, you’re terrible at it.”
“Pixies don’t encourage. We motivate. Now get those eyes open! You wanna fly, don’t you?”
Alex felt like Jollies had read her mind, but in all honesty, it wouldn’t have taken too long to figure out. They all were here for the same thing, except maybe Jollies since she could already fly. “All right, I’ll try again,” Alex grumbled.
She pulled down her blindfold again. This time she opened her right eye less than before, and the light felt less aggressive. It still felt searing in its intensity, but more manageable.
Next, she opened her eye a little more, almost as wide as she’d opened it earlier. Now the light was flowing in, and everything was too white and hot. She had to stop. It hurt too much.
Jollies’ voice rang sharply in Alex’s ear. “There you go!” the pixie squeaked. “It’s more open than before! You’re almost there. Just take a deep breath. Concentrate and you’ll get there.”
Alex snapped her eye open. She didn’t want to waste half an hour on this. Her vision blurred as intense color overloaded her brain, but she looked straight ahead and reached out for the clock she knew was in front of her.
Slowly, the clock started to take shape, the colors distinguishing themselves from each other, like the sharp blackness of the clock’s hands. Th
en the excruciating details became clear. Alex winced as her eyes picked up the specks of dust on the clock’s face.
Now would have been a great time to take a break, but Alex felt she’d accomplished so much already. Her eye was open. She had to see how far she could take it.
Slowly, she opened her other eye. It was the same thing. At first, it was too much to handle, but the longer she kept her eye open and focused on the clock, the less painful the experience became.
Alex had both eyes open now. Everything around her was blurry as she focused on the outline of the clock. She was tempted to look away and figure out what else she could see. Looking through her own eyes was exhilarating, and the pain was already more tolerable.
The dorm room door suddenly opened. Alex jumped at the sound and looked to see who had come in, which was a mistake. The moment she looked away from the clock, her eyes became overstimulated. A sharp pain pierced the back of her skull, and she fell from her chair.
“Who the hell is it?” Alex shouted.
No one answered. Finally, the intruder coughed loudly. “I just came in to check on you,” Manny said. “It’s about time we get you to training. First day and everything, you know?”
“Ugh. Manny, I’m going to need you to give me a hand with seeing again. I’m sorry.”
“No worries, that’s what I’m here for. We’ll get you up and ready in no time.”
Alex felt Jollies land on her shoulder. “Don’t worry, Alex. We’ll all help you,” the pixie said. “Or at least me and Manny will. Now come on. We shouldn’t be late.”
Chapter Three
Before Manny led Alex out of the room, he reestablished his psychic link with her eyes. The effect was uncomfortable, to say the least. Alex saw through her new eyes while simultaneously seeing through Manny’s.
She stumbled out of the room, attempting to walk straight. She felt like all the descriptions of drunks she’d read about in her Victorian novels. The only difference was that she wasn’t having anything close to a good time. Well, neither were the fictional drunks, at that level of intoxication.
After being hit with a wave of motion sickness worse than any she’d ever experienced, Alex leaned against the wall to catch her breath. “This isn’t going to work, Manny,” Alex said as she tried to steady herself.
Manny floated over to Alex and rested one of his tentacles on her shoulder. It was supposed to be a comforting gesture, but Manny’s tentacles were somewhat slimy. “Don’t worry, kid. We’ll figure it out,” he said.
“’Kid?’ You sound like one of those old-time detectives from a film noir.”
Manny smiled as some of his eyes widened. “That was a good time in human cinema,” Manny laughed. “No one ever gets tired of Humphrey Bogart.”
Alex stood straight and pulled her blindfold from her pocket. She tied it around her eyes so she only saw through Manny’s eyes. “That’s better.” She sighed. “At least I’ll be able to walk without falling over. So, where are we going?”
“First day is in the stables.”
Alex did a double-take. “Wait, are you saying that the dragons are kept in stables?” she asked. “Some of the most ancient, dignified creatures of all time are kept in the same place as horses?”
He laughed at Alex’s horror. “Trust me, you’ll understand better when we get there,” Manny said. “I don’t want to ruin the surprise, but you’re going to be glad you’re picking up a few tricks.”
He led them farther down the crystal halls, which shifted and contorted of their own accord. Even though Alex knew it was a bad idea, she was interested to know what the crystals would look like with her new eyes. Probably too beautiful to understand.
Manny, Alex, and Jollies rounded a corner, and the crystals pulled apart and created a large archway for them to walk through. Alex was still considering what Manny said about the stables.
It didn’t make any sense for the dragons to be kept in stables. For one, the stables would have to be huge. Chine had been the smallest dragon, and he was twice the size of Alex’s living room. The other dragons were nearly the size of a house.
Plainly put, Alex hadn’t been expecting for her training to involve picking up dragon dung. The thought had never crossed her mind, and she realized right then and there that she couldn’t think of anything she’d rather do less.
Not too high a price to pay to be in the sky, she reminded herself. You’ve changed baby diapers before, and all infants ever do is look cute.
Alex watched as the two crystal archways formed a set of double doors. To the right, the crystals produced a datapad. Manny floated over, ready to press his tentacles to the pad before he stopped and turned to Alex. “Actually, you should be all credentialed,” he said.
She looked at the pad, which had changed so it had the imprint of a human hand. “What do you mean, credentialed?”
“You should be in the Nest’s security system. As a dragonrider, you have access to most of the facility’s operations and departments. The only place I know for sure you can’t get into is the kitchen’s storehouse after hours. Believe me, I’ve tried, but the kitchen is open twenty-four/seven anyway.”
“So, I can come and go whenever I want?”
“Myrddin believes that our recruits should be treated with respect. We don’t hold your hands, and we don’t baby anyone. It should be refreshing.”
Jollies flew over to Alex’s left ear. “I’ve loved it,” she whispered. “Supposedly, all we’re supposed to do is train. The rest of the time is up to us.”
“Do you really think they’re stables? Like, for horses? I mean, I don’t really want to pick up dragon turds. Don’t get me wrong, I’ll do it if I have to. It’s just… Not that I was looking for something glamorous, but…”
“I was thinking the same thing. I can’t imagine a dragon putting up with being confined to a stable, but who knows? Maybe they’re really clean stables because we’re the ones who’ll be taking care of them.”
Curiosity was getting the best of Alex, and she finally decided she didn’t care if she was going to be cleaning up after her dragon. She only cared about flying again.
The dragons in Middang3ard VR had been nothing more than glorified steeds. Alex had been surprised when she heard Chine speak. The stables might be just as surprising.
She pressed her hand to the datapad; it was cold but instantly warmed at her touch. The doors to the dragon stables opened.
The first thing Alex noticed was how large the room was—easily the biggest room she’d been in so far. It was large in every sense of the word. The space gave you a bizarre feeling of having stepped into an infinite snow globe. Alex looked down as she walked. It felt as if the floor were sloping away from her.
As she got her bearings, she was able to take in more of her surroundings. “Stables” must have been a colloquial term for what the room actually was. It was split into multiple sections, most of which had a use Alex could not discern. Only the left part of the room was remotely identifiable. That section held a series of platforms, each big enough for the most massive dragon to rest upon comfortably.
Around the platforms were dozens of robotic arms with some kind of contraption attached to them.
Scientists zoomed by on floating scooters, taking notes or shouting at each other as they passed. It was that section Manny was leading Jollies and Alex toward.
Near the closest platform was a yeti standing nearly seven feet tall and covered in white fur. She wore nothing but a bandolier with a blaster and a rifle sheath attached. When she saw Alex and the other two approaching, she sneered and walked toward them.
Alex was surprised to see a yeti. She’d assumed the creatures that existed in Middang3ard were fantastical, like she’d read about in science fiction books. The thought reminded her of what Myrddin said about aliens and James Cameron, and suddenly yetis made much more sense.
The yeti raised her hand to Manny, showed her palm, and bowed slightly. Manny made a similar gesture with one of hi
s tentacles. “Nice to see you three understand what being prompt means,” Tribble growled.
Manny smiled and looked at his dragonriders. “These two do, at least,” he said with a wink. “Neither of them could wait to get down here. Sally Tribble, meet Alex and Jollies.”
Alex laughed. She really appreciated Manny trying to talk Jollies and her up. From Tribble’s tone of voice, it seemed safe to assume Gill and Brath hadn’t made it down to the stables yet.
Alex raised her hand to get Tribble’s attention. The moment the yeti took notice of Alex’s hand, the dragonrider regretted the action. Tribble stooped so she could look Alex in the eyes. “Are you in a classroom right now?” Tribble growled.
Alex swallowed hard as she prepared to answer. “I thought I was in something kind of like a classroom,” she whispered. “I was just trying to get your attention without interrupting.”
“That meek attitude is going to have to stop real soon. We can’t afford dragonriders who waste valuable time being as polite as possible. If this is a classroom, it sure as hell isn’t an etiquette lesson. Now, state your question.”
“I was just going to ask about these being called stables, ma’am. Am I supposed to call you ma’am? I’m sorry. Never mind. These don’t look like what I thought stables would look like.”
“From what I’ve heard, how would you know what anything is supposed to look like?”
Alex flushed bright red as she tried to think of a retort. Tribble raised her hand, signaling to her to not even bother trying. “I don’t have time for babysitting,” the yeti said. “I’m assuming you can keep up since you’re here, and I’ll treat you thusly. Understood?”
Alex had heard of backhanded compliments, but this was something else entirely. She was happy Tribble didn’t see her as some kind of helpless charity case. That was more than some of the other recruits thought of her. And it was exactly what Alex wanted: to be treated like everyone else.