After Skyshot left, time just sort of slipped through my claws. This might be, because there are no weeks or stuff like that, or more like I don't know about any and even if there are, then I don't know which day it is right now. 'Totally not, because there are no electronics that would normally keep track of time for me.'
From my memory, it was about ten to fourteen days, definitely nothing less. On that note, I continued the training that we established, but I had to modify the game of tag, so that I can do it on my own.
In the end and after some testing, the best thing that came to my mind was to just try and complete some of the maneuvers that we did together as smoothly and quickly as possible, but due to a lack of any timekeeping tools I was forced to weave some fetching in between.
"This feels silly... I mean this is more engaging than flying around stacks, but... fetching... It makes me feel like some kind of forgotten pet left at home." While true, there was nothing better for me to do on this island, pardon a few excursions I went on.
In those two weeks or so, I also started training with my plasma, or breath weapon, but it's a lot more useful than just that so I've been calling it plasma. The reason why it took me so long to get started was, well..., I forgot about it. To my own defence, Skyshot never used it with me around and it honestly makes more sense that she didn't, because there was no reason to.
From the very few conversations we had about breath weapons and what was in the films, most fire spitting dragons use their fire as self-defence, primarily. Dragons are, after all, pretty strong as they are, we don't need the fire to get food.
Taking aside the fact that most breath weapons are either to hot to leave a proper meal behind and that most of them don't work under water, we don't have infinite amounts of spark so it's just a waste to use it like that.
Despite how it may seam at first glance, when you actually think about it, the most common uses of spark are things like digestion, terraforming or primitive crafting. Now, this is not something I checked, but with all the alfas around, most of the fighting is either between dragons living on land, where there is less food, or because of humans. So it's not that common under normal circumstances.
'The only dragon around using it almost all the time is...' "Now that I think about it..." I said to myself, turning to look at the high peaks, forever shrouded in thick clouds. "It never hurts to ask, right?"
With this new idea, I went for my evening snack and returned to my usual spot to think about how I want to approach this. Either way I couldn't right now as it was way past midnight.
>One Night Fury slumber later...<
At first, I tried to force it, but in time it just became a bother, so I simply went along with my natural sleeping pattern. That being, going to sleep an hour or two before sunrise and waking up a little past noon. Not much sleep time, but it was more than enough for me. Likely something to do with my regeneration. 'I still think this is my reincarnation cheat and thus I will exploit it all I want.'
As the next day rolled in... '-or the same one just... never mind. I can't even say morning. Maybe I should call them suns...? It does sound nice... I will go with it for now, like werewolves measure time... or was it vampires?'
One noon of pointless thoughts and a late breakfast later, I was flying towards the mountain peaks, where the Skrill nest was located. "Looking at the clouds, this thing should be over two kilometres high. Maybe over three?"
Flying through the clouds proved challenging. The complex wind patterns throwing me off as I tried to reach the clear skies above. I squinted my eyes to avoid at least some of the wind from hitting my eyes.
It was at that time that I noticed a slight tint to the air around me. Most of it was in shades of red and blue, but I also noticed some flickering purple lines. When I concentrated more, I could even vaguely see these colours flow in certain directions, but it could have just been my imagination.
Nonetheless, as a curious cat that every, known to me, Night Fury was, I moved slightly to fit completely in a blue hue. As I did that, the pressure from the wind on my wings got somewhat equalised. This made flight a lot smoother.
Next, I tested the red hue and felt the subtle change in temperature. 'So I have some weird heat vision, birds edition?' On the other hand, or paw, I couldn't figure out what the purple lines were for.
With this new knowledge, the path to the top was relatively easy. The currents almost pristine in how smoothly they led me to the top. "Maybe the Skrills put more thought into their storms than I gave them credit for..."
Before even breaching the cloud layer, I could hear a lot of shrieks from all around me. It felt like being in a forest full of chirping birds, but not being able to see even one.
When I finally breached the clouds, I think I fell in love with flying all over again.
What stood before me was a beautiful landscape, shaped with clouds and anchored on the gray crown of mountain peaks, smoothed out either by time or the dragons themselves. Skrills flying everywhere in numbers I would never expect from one dragon species after watching the movies.
With at least thirty dragons flying around, some just playing around, others diving through the clouds in orderly formations. I could also see at least ten more, resting on the mountains, with more likely scattered throughout the island and the wall.
As I was floating there, admiring this peace of art of supernatural proportions, a snake-like voice sounded behind me like a loud wisper. "We do not mind guests on our island, Night Fury. However, it would be to our liking to remain undisturbed in our nest, unless necessary. May I therefore ask what brought you all the way up here?"
Mildly surprised at how effortlessly the dragon behind me managed to approach me completely unnoticed, I turned around to face him. At least I presumed so, by the sound of his voice.
The Skrill before me looked old. It wasn't the grandpa kind of old, but a man, or dragon in this case, past his prime. Faded lavender scales, elongated whiskers and some old signs of wear on the uneven edges of his wings. Nothing however pointed at any weakness that often catches humans in the older age.
Not wanting to keep him waiting, I shook away these thoughts and finally answered. "I was just hoping to find someone to fly around with." He didn't answer and just nodded slightly as if asking me to continue.
"I had some unfortunate, longterm experience with dragon hunters and their cages in to close of a proximity for comfort..., if you know what I mean... So I'm now trying to recover the strength in my wings that went unused for to long." I tried to avoid saying it to up front, not sure if he could tell through the cover story for my sudden emergence.
"I'm Zoya, by the way." I blurted out under his calm gaze. 'Is this some kind of seniority pressure, or just another instinct I feel facing a much older dragon? I remember hearing that dragons grow stronger as they age. Is this the case in this world too?'
Fortunately, his expression softened moments later and he answered. "You may call me Tyrfähl. And before you ask, the name esthetic is the old one. The new one was adopted by the dragons that decided to coexist with humans and not hide from them."
He then turned around and dived into the clouds. "Come, I will guide you to where most of the juvenile Skrills play, you can ask there or just join them from time to time."