Wyvern Rider (A story in the Ravenglass Universe) - VIII

An orphan girl and an orphaned wyvern find shared a destiny...

Irina cradled Nim close as she navigated the narrow village lanes, her cloak wrapped tight around the wyvern. The forge loomed ahead, a squat shadow against the deepening dusk.

She slipped inside, easing the door shut behind her. In the dim light, she could just make out Nim’s nest of rags in the corner. She knelt, gently placing the wyvern amidst the soft folds. “There you go, Nim. Safe and sound.”

Nim chirped, his tail curling around himself. But as Irina stood to leave, a wave of unease washed over her. It took a moment to realise the feeling wasn’t her own—it was Nim’s.

She looked down at the wyvern. His eyes were wide, his claws kneading the rags. A sense of loss, of worry, emanated from him, seeping into Irina’s mind through their bond.

“Oh, Nim.” She sank back to her knees, stroking his scales. “I know. I don’t want to leave you either.”

The wyvern leaned into her touch, a soft trill rising from his throat. Irina’s heart clenched. The thought of Nim alone in the darkness, afraid and missing her was almost too much to bear.

But she couldn’t stay. Her family would be waiting, wondering where she was.

“Listen, Nim.” She cupped the wyvern’s face in her hands, staring into his eyes. “I have to go. But I’ll be back. I promise.”

She sent a pulse of reassurance through their bond, a wordless promise that she would return, that he was not alone, that he would be safe. Nim chirped, his mind quieting, settling.

“That’s it. You’re so brave, Nim. So strong.”

With a final caress, Irina stood. She forced herself to turn, to walk away, even as every instinct screamed at her to stay, to curl herself around Nim and never let go.

She paused at the door, looking back. Nim watched her, his eyes glinting in the low light. Irina sent one last pulse of love, of comfort. Then she slipped out into the night.

The walk home felt like trudging through thick mud. The village was quiet, most folks already settled in for the evening. Light spilled from the windows of her family’s cottage as she approached.

When she entered, she found her family already gathered around the table, bowls in front of them.

“Irina!” Yulia looked up, a smile on her face. “We were starting to wonder about you.”

“I’m sorry I’m late. I lost track of time.”

Rurik waved a hand. “No matter. Come, sit. The solyanka is still hot.”

Irina hung her cloak and took her place at the table. Yulia ladled out a bowl for her, thick with chunks of sausage.

“How was your day?” Irina asked, picking up her spoon.

Rurik shrugged. “Same as always. Preparing for the Midsummer Festival.”

“And I was busy with the washing and mending,” Yulia said. “Nothing too exciting, I’m afraid.”

Irina nodded, blowing on a chunk of sausage.

“So, Irina.” Matyev leaned forward. “Where have you been disappearing to these past few days? You’re hardly ever around anymore.”

Irina’s spoon paused halfway to her mouth. She could feel Rurik and Yulia tense.

“I’ve been in the forest. With Ksenia.”

“Doing what? And who’s Ksenia anyway? I’ve never heard of her.”

“She’s been teaching me about animals.”

Matyev opened his mouth, but Rurik cut him off with a wave.

“Speaking of work. We have a big jewellery order coming in. A wedding.”

“Oh yes,” Yulia said. “I heard about that. The baker’s daughter and the blacksmith’s son. An interesting match, don’t you think?”

Rurik grunted. “As long as they pay, I don’t much care who’s marrying who.” He turned to Matyev. “You’ll need to pay close attention to this one, boy. Big jobs like this, they can sustain us through the lean times. The long winters.”

Matyev’s brow furrowed, but he nodded. “Yes, father.”

The rest of the meal passed in stilted conversation, Rurik and Yulia making determined small talk about village goings-on while skirting anything to do with Irina’s whereabouts. Matyev remained quiet, his eyes often flicking to Irina, a scowl on his face.

As soon as she was able, Irina excused herself, claiming exhaustion. She cleared the dishes and hurried to her room.

As she reached for the door handle, she found her path blocked by Matyev.

She glared at him. “What do you want?”

“I want to know what’s going on.” He crossed his arms, his chin jutting forward. “You’ve been acting strange, sneaking around. And the way Ma and Da jumped in as soon as I started asking questions, like they were trying to hide something…”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Irina tried to push past him, but he stood firm.

“I’m not stupid. You’re up to something out there in the woods, and I want to know what it is.”

Irina sighed, rubbing a hand over her face. “I told you, I’ve been learning from Ksenia. About plants and animals. There’s nothing more to it.”

Matyev’s eyes narrowed. “You’re lying. I can tell.”

She opened her mouth, a sharp retort on her tongue. But then she paused. Arguing would only make Matyev more suspicious, more determined to uncover her secret. “Believe what you want, Mat. But I’m tired, and I need to go to bed.”

She made to move past him again and he stepped aside.

“I’ll find out, Irina. One way or another, I’ll find out what you’re hiding.”

Irina paused, her hand on the door frame. She could feel Matyev’s gaze boring into her back. “Goodnight, Mat.”

She stepped into her room, closing the door behind her.