The first thing Arthur did was to take Brixaby down to the hive entrance on the bottom level. He stood off to the side from the wide mouthed arch and pointed down the road to the gate which was manned by guards clearing people to come in.
Brixaby watched the comings and goings of traders, carters, and a variety of people and horses in all shapes and sizes with keen interest.
To Arthur’s relief, he didn’t attempt — or even threaten — to steal a card from anybody. Arthur would suspect it was a sign of new maturity. The truth was, these common folk likely didn’t have a card worth Brixaby’s time.
“The first thing we're going to do is work on getting you a flying skill,” Arthur said.
“Hmm. Yes. It’s odd that I haven’t gotten one before now. Perhaps, I am an expert,” Brixaby said, standing up on his hind legs to extend his upper pair of wings, while his lower pair beat the air furiously.
“I suspect that it’s because you’ve used pure instinct,” Arthur said. “In order to cultivate a skill, you must focus and work with deliberate practice.”
He must be getting better at reading Brixaby’s expression, because doubt tinged with contempt was written large on his scaly muzzle.
“Plus,” Arthur continued, “if you get a class, or even a single skill up to level 20, you get additional bonuses. That should be easy, considering you’re an expert and all.”
“Of course,” Brixaby said, quickly. “So, how do you propose I improve what I already do so well?”
“Like I said: Deliberate practice. Think about how you move your wings, and how the air flows around your body.” Arthur was hardly an expert on flying, but he had lived in the periphery of the hive for years, and he’d heard dragon riders talk at the bars. “Some dragons use warmer air to fly up higher, and some seek out colder currents because the air is denser. The thicker air gives them fine control to maneuver.”
Brixaby bobbed his head in a nod. “You want me to fly up high?”
Arthur’s heart jolted in his chest at the thought of his little dragon flying out of his sight. It was a completely unexpected sensation, and he had to pause for a moment to collect himself. “No,” he said carefully. “Right now, let’s just work on speed. I want you to fly to that gate and back as fast as you can. Do you think you can do it three times in a row?”
“Of course,” Brixaby said, scornfully.
Then he shot off Arthur's shoulder — a streak of darkness heading straight for the gate.
Some of the cart horses shied and tossed their heads. Men called out, pointing, and Arthur heard a few loud questions, wondering if that was a bat or a dragon.
Brixaby reached the arch of the gate within a few breaths and looped around in midair, flying back nearly as fast.
However, his second lap there and back was noticeably slower.
Now people were watching for him, saw Arthur, and put two and two together. Most of the carters ducked their heads and went about their way. This was dragon rider business, which meant a fair chance of dealing with somebody with a high card.
However, many of the children still pointed, stared, and laughed aloud when Brixaby zipped by.
pαndα---noνɐ1,сoМ Brixaby came back for his third and final lap, and as he passed over Arthur’s head, Arthur heard rapid, labored breathing.
However, Brixaby was not going to give up that easily. Though he was no longer a dark streak, he was still about as fast as a man running full out as he made his way to the gate and back.
“Maybe we should put some of those points into stamina,” Arthur murmured to himself.
Focused as fiercely on Brixaby as he was, he felt the moment Brixaby got the skill.
He couldn’t see the notification, but again, it was as if something had expanded — just a little, within Brixaby’s core.
Sure enough, when Brixaby flapped heavily back to land on Arthur’s shoulder, his wings were drooping, but he was exultant. “I satisfied the requirement of two skills,” he said, proudly, between panting breaths.
“Very good,” Arthur said, warmly. There was a water trough meant for horses nearby. Walking over, he reached down and cupped some of the water, which was cold and sweet from a nearby well. He brought it up to Brixaby, and the dragon sucked it down greedily.
New Skill gained: Basic Dragon Care (Dragon Rider/Magical Animal Husbandry Class)
Due to your card’s bonus traits, you automatically start this skill at level 3.
Arthur smiled, but kept his new skill to himself. He didn’t want Brixaby to think he was taking care of him just for new skills.
He waited until Brixaby’s breathing had evened out to ask, “So, what levels did you start at?”
“Level 9 in Basic Flying,” he said, smugly. “And level 5 at Flying Sprint.”
Arthur blinked. “Those are high starting levels. Good job.”
“I told you I was exceptional. I don’t know why you continue to be surprised.”
“You’re almost halfway to 20 in basic flying,” Arthur murmured. “Those are body enhancement skills, so when you reach level 20, you’ll gain points to add to your attributes. Basic Flying and Flying Sprint are both in the same flying class?”
“Indeed.”
Turning, Arthur regarded the distance between where he stood and the gate, again. “Getting a flying class will help you with your attributes, too. Do you think you could manage more laps?”
Brixaby hesitated, but only for a moment. “Yes, but while I do, you can fetch me a proper bowl to drink from. The water cupped in your palms tastes salty.”
In answer, Arthur grabbed a small bowl from his personal space. He just hadn’t thought to use it before.
Brixaby snorted and took off for the gate again.
Eventually, a guard came by and asked, in the most painfully polite tone Arthur had ever heard, if they could move their training elsewhere. The sight of a tiny purple-black dragon, of whom uncomfortable rumors were already swirling about, zipping over commoner’s heads was starting to cause a disruption.
By that time Brixaby had leveled his Basic Flying to 12 and his Flying Sprint to level 7.
The Sprint skill was coming along at a slightly slower speed due to the fact Brixaby stamina bottomed out usually around the second lap.
He was taking longer and longer to recover between sprints, too. Arthur had upped his Dragon Care another level.
“That’s fine,” Arthur said, “we have other places to practice.”
He smiled in reassurance but if anything the guard looked more nervous than ever.
“Begging your pardon, sir,” the man said, actually doffing his guard’s cap. “You can of course use this area in the future, but if it wouldn’t be too much of a burden, perhaps send one of your servants down to tell us ahead of time so we can plan to reroute traffic to the south-west or south-eastern entrance.”
Arthur winced. There were several entrances through the hive, but though those two were the closest, that was quite a hike.
How often did high-ranking dragon riders swoop in and upend people’s lives on a whim? Arthur wasn’t sure he wanted to know.
After thanking the guard, and fending off offers to speak to the guard’s supervisor should Arthur be in need of them in the future–and also, sir, we’re always here to help. We didn’t mean any disrespect toward you or your illustrious dragon – Arthur finally made his escape.
He decided to visit one of the rider training areas, hoping that people wouldn’t scrape and be so subservient there.
The gym was on one of the lower sublevels and markedly smaller than Buck Moon hive’s had been. Though it appeared to have a sauna, which Arthur looked forward to.
He felt eyes on him the moment he stepped in and people made way – almost comically abandoning their spots on the track or obstacle course as he passed by. As if they feared Arthur would turn and start climbing one of the cargo nets over the mud-pit, just for fun.
Setting his jaw, Arthur went to one corner where a series of weights were set up. Large blocks of dull iron had been drilled through the middle with a bar stuck through. An identical block of iron sat on the other side of the bar, giving it a perfect counter weight.
Brixaby had fallen asleep on Arthur’s shoulder, legs and wings sprawled on either side and wings dropping as if he were dead exhausted.
Arthur gently moved him to a spot off to the side. He wanted Brixaby to train hard, but the little dragon had only hatched a few days ago. His newfound Dragon Care skill told him that pushing him too far at this stage would be detrimental.
Arthur returned to the weights, set his feet, focused on determined practice, and got to work lifting.
Brixaby roused just when Arthur hit level 10 in Lifting (Strength class).
This was somewhat of an accomplishment even though he had started at level 5. Apparently his years of hauling boxes of produce, slabs of meat, and heavy pots of soups in the kitchen had given him some foundation to work on.
Like with Running, hitting the tenth level had given extra bonuses.
For reaching this threshold on a body-enhancing skill, you have gained a 5% bonus to all strength while lifting heavy objects. In addition, gain a 10% temporary bonus while lifting an object greater than your own weight.
“I’m hungry,” the little dragon announced, flitting to the end of the weight Arthur was currently lifting. Thankfully he was so small that it didn’t do much to upend the balance.
“Do you want raw meat?” Arthur asked, in between reps, “Or do you want human food?”
Brixaby cocked his head and considered for a moment. “I will have both.”
“All right, watch yourself: I’m setting this weight down.”
Arthur had already planned for this, and after setting down the weight, he reached into his Personal Space and plucked out a small plate full of raw beef, shaved down to small bite-sized chunks, and a bowl of multi-colored fruit. This was all thanks to the Buck Moon hive.
Arthur had spent a few days in that luxurious room of theirs, with a practical feast brought in for every meal. He’d stuffed every scrap that wasn’t eaten in his Personal Space for later use, as well as everything he’d been given for Brixaby’s first meal after he’d hatched. Thanks to the fact time didn’t move in his Personal Space, the food was just as fresh as when he’d stored it in there.
Waste not, want not.
Brixaby looked at the bowls, wrinkled his snout, and looked up at Arthur.
“Am I not to have those tools humans use to eat food?”
“Tools?” he repeated blankly. “Oh, you mean utensils?”
“Whatever you call them,” Brixaby said, “Do you expect me to eat like a common animal?”
The answer was yes, but Arthur kept his face blank. Other dragons ate like hogs at a trough, especially as they got older and killed their food.
But Arthur had loosened the tie on this sack of problems by introducing him to human food. And Brixaby didn’t eat with the other dragons. Most of the Commons and Uncommons all ate together, socially.
Brixaby had only seen him eat, and that was with a fork and a knife.
Arthur took a moment and searched his mental list in his Personal Space. He had taken to throwing all sorts of odds and ends in there. But had he brought—Oh, he had.
Arthur brought out a tiny three-prong fork meant to help clean out the shells of seafood. He had, of course, taken it from Buck Moon hive after one of their extravagant meals.
“I don’t have a knife that’ll be, ah, appropriate,” he said tactfully, meaning one that would fit Brixaby’s size. “But you can start with this.”
Brixaby took the seafood shell fork delicately in his claws. “It will have to do. Now, show me how to hold this thing.”
So Arthur spent the next few minutes giving the basics to his dragon until Brixaby received the Eating Utensil (Basic) skill.
Then Arthur went back to weightlifting.
Brixaby hit level 20 in flying before Arthur hit 20 in lifting, but not by a large margin.
His speed in flight had increased to a visible degree. Whereas before he had been a dark streak, now Arthur could easily lose sight of him against the shadowy gym corners. He could go from a top speed to a hover almost instantly, and even the sound of a low buzzing drone from his wings had diminished. He was becoming more efficient in the air.
However, he still needed breaks between sprints.
“I shall put all my points into Stamina,” Brixaby announced, then, uncharacteristically hesitated. He brought one hand to his chin and scratched it. “Or perhaps one to Strength and two to Stamina…”
Arthur took a breath. “One to Stamina, the rest to Luck.”
“Luck?” he repeated, shocked.
“Luck,” Arthur confirmed. “I’ll be putting all three of my points there, and whatever else I manage to scrape up before we meet with the king. Brix,” he said seriously, “We’re going to need all the luck we can get.”
The dragon looked doubtful and Arthur was certain he was going to do what he wanted to do anyway. It wasn’t as if Arthur could stop him.
“As you say,” Brixaby said, and then assigned the points.
1 to Stamina
2 to Luck.
