Wyvern Rider (a story in the Ravenglass Universe) - XIV

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

Irina limped through the village, keeping to the shadows as much as she could. Each step sent a jolt of pain through her injured ankle, but she gritted her teeth and pushed on.

As she approached her family’s cottage, the warm glow of firelight spilled from the windows. The familiar scents of cooking food and woodsmoke filled the air.

She paused at the door, taking a deep breath. Then she pushed it open and stepped inside.

Yulia looked up from the pot she was stirring over the fire. Her eyes widened. “Irina! What happened?”

Rurik and Mat shot to their feet, rushing to Irina’s side.

“I’m fine. Just a little banged up.”

Yulia guided her to a chair. “Sit, sit. Let me take a look at you.”

Irina sank into the seat, wincing as Yulia prodded at her ankle.

“This needs strapping. Matyev, fetch me the bandages.”

As Mat hurried to comply, Rurik knelt beside Irina, his eyes searching her face. “What happened out there? Was it the hunters?”

Irina nodded. “They found us. We had to fly.”

“Fly? You mean…”

“I rode him. We escaped, but Ksenia…she stayed behind. Led them away from us.”

Mat returned with the bandages.

“That woman,” Yulia said. “She’s going to get herself killed one of these days.”

“She saved us, Aunt Yulia. If not for her…” Irina trailed off, not wanting to think about what might have happened.

Yulia softened, her hand coming to rest on Irina’s shoulder. “I know, dear. I just wish it didn’t have to be this way.” She set to work on Irina’s ankle, wrapping it tightly with the bandages.

Irina bit down on her lip, trying not to flinch at the pressure.

Rurik stood, pacing the small room. “This can’t go on, Irina. It’s too dangerous. Your wyvern friend needs to be somewhere safe. Somewhere far away from here.”

Irina’s heart clenched. “No. I can’t send him away. He needs me.”

“And you need to be safe. Those hunters won’t stop. They’ll keep coming, keep searching. As long as your wyvern is here, you’re both in danger.”

Irina shook her head, feeling the sting of tears. “I can’t abandon him, Uncle. I won’t.”

Yulia finished tying off the bandage, giving Irina’s leg a gentle pat. “No one’s asking you to abandon him, dear. But your uncle is right. We need to think about your safety.”

“Nim is my safety. Our bond…it’s everything. I can’t just leave him.”

Rurik sighed, running a hand over his face. “Then we need a plan. A way to keep you both out of sight.”

Yulia stood, her expression stern. “Enough talk of wyverns and hunters. It’s time for supper.” She bustled around the kitchen, ladling out bowls of shchi. “And the midsummer festival is almost here.”

Mat perked up at the mention of the festival. “The jewellery orders are about done. We’ve been working non-stop to get everything ready.”

Rurik nodded. “And the stall is going to be our best yet.”

As they gathered around the table, Irina scooped up mouthfuls of cabbage.

“I’ve been experimenting with a new silver alloy,” Rurik said. “It takes a higher polish, really makes the pieces shine.”

Mat grinned. “And I’ve been working on my engraving. Wait until you see the detail on the medallions.”

Irina listened, letting their enthusiasm wash over her. It was a welcome distraction from the fear and uncertainty churning in her gut.

“What about you, Irina?” Mat asked, turning to her. “Are you looking forward to the festival?”

Irina mustered a smile. “Of course. It’s always the highlight of the summer.”

Yulia glanced at Irina’s bandaged ankle. “Will you be healed up in time?”

Irina flexed her foot. The pain had dulled to a steady throb. “I think so. I’ll just have to take it easy until then.”

Rurik leaned back in his chair, his eyes taking on a faraway look. “Remember the bonfire from two summers ago? The flames were so high, I thought they’d lick the stars right out of the sky.”

Mat nodded, his foot tapping. “And the music! I’ve never seen so many people dancing. It was like the whole village was under a spell.”

“And let’s not forget the strength competitions,” Yulia said. “I seem to recall a certain someone getting his rear handed to him by the cartwright’s daughter.”

Mat’s cheeks reddened. “She caught me off guard, that’s all. I’d like to see you try to lift those barrels after a few cups of festival ale.”

Irina laughed along with her family. She imagined herself in the middle of the revelry, twirling and spinning to the music. She hoped her ankle would be healed by then, allowing her to dance the night away without a care in the world.

And Nim would be safe, tucked away in the secrecy of the old forge.

But even as Irina smiled and laughed, she felt as if a cold hand had gripped her heart, squeezing tighter with each passing moment.

She pictured the hunters as clearly as if they were standing right in front of her—their cold eyes, their hard faces. She could almost hear the baying of their dogs, the thud of their heavy boots against the forest floor as they chased her and Nim.

Irina tried to shake the images away, to focus on the warmth and joy of her family’s presence. But they lingered at the edges of her mind, dark shadows that refused to be banished.

They had found her and Nim once. They could find them again.

As the meal drew to a close, Irina excused herself, claiming exhaustion. Yulia fussed over her, insisting she rest her ankle, while Rurik and Mat promised to clean up.

Irina made her way to her room and eased herself onto her bed, staring up at the ceiling.

Her thoughts turned to Nim, alone in the old forge. She reached out through their bond, feeling the familiar warmth of his presence. He was restless, uneasy in the confined space. But he was safe. For now.

Irina closed her eyes, letting her mind drift. Images flickered behind her eyelids—the vast expanse of the sky, the rush of wind, the feeling of Nim’s muscles bunching and flexing beneath her.

They had flown together. Really, truly flown.

No matter what tomorrow brought, no matter what trials lay ahead, she knew one thing with unshakable certainty—she and Nim were one.