The thoughts themselves were the only warning she had, but Catrin knew the thoughts were not hers, and she turned to find a small feral dragon stalking her. Low to the ground, it remained still for an instant, as if hoping Catrin wouldn't see it, but as soon as Catrin raised her hands, it lunged. Lightning crackled between them just before they collided, and both were sent sprawling. Catrin wasn't exactly certain she had attacked, and she wondered if the dragon had struck her with lightning. It seemed unlikely, since the dragon could just as easily have snapped her up in its jaws. Deep down, Catrin was relieved; feral dragons with the ability to wield Istra's power would be truly terrifying things.
Even without power, the beast hunting Catrin seemed made of fear. A single look from it caused Catrin to tremble, and its every movement forced Catrin to envision her own death. None could stand before such a dark and menacing visage and not quail. Catrin did the only thing she could think of, foolish or not: she ran.
The dragon moved in slow pursuit, seemingly unworried by Catrin's sudden flight. What looked like a tree branch swung out into the air before her, but it was no branch, and it moved to intercept her neck.
The pole arm cut the air with a sound that promised death. Only narrowly avoiding the strike, Catrin ducked low and let her momentum carry her forward, which proved to be a mistake. She'd have had a better chance facing the dragon. At least a dozen demons were clawing their way toward her, and behind them came the giants. Each one was a walking exaggeration; everything frightening about the demons only made larger. And now Catrin was tumbling into their midst. Without much thought, she compressed the air around her and released it all at once. The blast sent demons tumbling, and even the giants took a step back. The smell of ozone assaulted Catrin's nostrils, and a quickly evaporating mist hung in the air around her. The air was cool and moist, and for some reason, that meant something to Catrin, though she didn't know exactly what.
Lumbering past their fallen and disorganized comrades, the giants continued forward, single file, unable to move two abreast in the narrow valley. Taking two steps back, Catrin turned and froze. The feral dragon rose up to its full height. Even if it was a small feral dragon, it still managed to be terrifying, and Catrin considered trying her luck against the giants. When they saw the dragon, the hulking brutes stopped, seemingly ready to assault her if she tried to pass but nothing more.
Cocking its head to the side, the dragon approached, low to the ground, its head now level and weaving in a hypnotic motion. It took one more step forward then stopped, looking up. A moment later, it was backing up the ravine as quickly as it could before turning and launching back into the sky. Catrin did not want to raise her head to see, but instinct made her look, and she nearly fell down in fear. Staring back was the face of the largest feral she'd seen, one she recognized from when it chased the Slippery Eel. This massive beast radiated terror, and Catrin raised trembling hands. The dragon struck, quick as lightning, and again Kyrien intervened. Dropping from the sky and flying between Catrin and the feral, Kyrien intercepted the strike with his side, and the regent dragon cried out in pain when the feral bit down.
Unleashing all the energy she could muster, Catrin sent fire and lightning at the feral's eyes. It arched back and released Kyrien from its deadly grasp, and Kyrien rolled away. Sensing movement behind her, Catrin lashed out at the giants, again going for the eyes. One managed to block the attack with a massive wrist guard, but another was struck full in the face and went down, leaving the third stuck behind its corpse.
Raising her arms for another attack, Catrin felt the air leave her lungs as Kyrien snatched her from the ground in his powerful claws.
This should not be! What have I done!
Catrin could almost feel the tears in his words, and she wept for her friend and for the fact that she was somehow the cause of his anguish.
Moving through the darkened halls within Dragonhold, Halmsa of the Wind clan was determined to learn as much as he could from Catrin, even if he could not learn it in person. Nothing in the prophecies ever said that she had to be there to teach them how to fly dragons. It seemed strange that something that had seemed so far away when he was a child was now here before him. There had always been a silent disbelief in the back of his mind that the things foretold would come to be, and now he was humbled. He had ridden a dragon, and now he was ready to try flying one. These ferals are feisty, he thought. It seemed like a challenge worthy of the Arghast.
Feeling like a thief within the hold, Halmsa searched for a room that he knew existed, yet he had few clues to its whereabouts. He knew that holes in its walls faced open air and that it must be along the outer walls of the keep, but still it eluded him.
A deep growl sounded nearby, and even its echo challenged Halmsa's courage. He reminded himself that brave men felt fear, but they did not let it make their decisions. Keeping to the shadows, he waited until the demon passed, this one sniffing the air as it went. Halmsa moved back toward the God's Eye, a thing he would not believe existed had he not seen it himself. Moving deeper into the mountain was contrary to his mission, but there were also more places to hide. He'd found nothing leading from the great hall, and this seemed a logical next step. The fact that it moved him away from those growls reinforced the decision.
His eyes had nearly adjusted to the darkness when a dim light appeared at the end of a descending hall. Quickly he moved closer, and when he reached a junction, he found another descending hallway bathed in a ruddy glow. Halmsa nearly shouted for joy, but he wisely kept his mouth shut. Moving toward the light, he found a room with two head-sized holes in the wall and beyond, open sky. Halmsa smiled despite his fear. He could not fail at this. This was the foretold time; he was certain of it. One of them had to step forward; one of them had to prove himself worthy of the title dragonrider, and Halmsa was determined to be that person.
In spite of the inherent danger of leaving his body completely unprotected in a part of the hold occupied by demons, in one of the few rooms that gets any natural light, he prayed for release from his prison of flesh. It seemed an unwise thing to hope for, but Halmsa wished with all of his heart as he stared out into the open sky. Reviewing the tales in his head, trying to remember exactly how Catrin had described astral travel, he tried not to despair. He had no access to the Cathuran chant or drums, and he chose to take another wild risk and hum a tune. Catrin had said it was the vibration that helped her and not the melody. Perhaps, he thought, the melody was there only to entertain those who must chant for hours at a time.
Humming, Halmsa stared out at the sky and strained his eyes, trying to look himself into the open air. A trickle of fear ran down his spine when he wondered if he would ever be able to return to his body should he break free of this mortal shroud.
Still humming, he closed his eyes and envisioned himself soaring through the skies, a dragon beneath him. When he opened his eyes, nothing happened. Frustrated, he sighed and sat back. That was when he remembered that Catrin had done the same; only she had smacked her head on the stone chair. Halmsa wondered if it had to be by accident and come as a surprise and exactly how hard he would have to hit his head. He was not afraid of the pain or a coward, but no man would slam his head against stone any harder than he might have to.