Akira Dracorider's Arc

Chapter 3 of 12

Akira heard them before he saw them — the same family from earlier, their voices carrying up the path toward the gazebo. He'd been standing with Cascade for the better part of an hour, waiting to see if anyone would actually stay this time. The dragon hadn't moved from the golden bench, hadn't flinched when the wind picked up or when Rebel had growled at a sound in the trees. Now footsteps crunched on frost, getting closer, and Akira felt his shoulders tighten. Then Takashi stepped out from behind the ice sculpture near the gazebo entrance, his six legs moving with that characteristic rolling gait that made children scream. Akira hadn't known he was back. The displacer beast walked straight to him, pressed his massive shoulder against Akira's side, and Akira's hand went to the dark fur without thinking. He wrapped his arms around Takashi's neck and felt the rumble of the creature's purr against his chest. The family rounded the bend. The mother stopped first, one hand reaching back to hold her children. But she didn't turn around. She stood there, watching Akira hug a displacer beast while a dragon sat motionless on a golden bench behind them. The father pulled up beside her, and the two children — the same ones who'd cried earlier — peered around their parents' legs. Akira didn't let go of Takashi. He met the mother's eyes over the displacer beast's shoulder and waited. This was the test Takashi had tried to spare him earlier, the one Cascade had taken on himself. But neither of them had needed to. The mother's hand dropped from her children's shoulders. She took one step forward, then another. "Is it safe to come closer?" she asked. Akira straightened but kept one hand on Takashi's back. "Depends what you're afraid of," he said. The mother glanced at her husband, then at the dragon, then back at Akira. "We came back because my daughter wanted to know if the dragon was lonely," she said. "She saw him sitting by himself." Cascade's head turned slightly. Not enough to look directly at the child, but enough that Akira caught the movement. The dragon's wings shifted, just a fraction, and Akira read the question there as clearly as if Cascade had spoken it aloud. Behind the mother, the little girl stepped out from her father's shadow. She was staring at Cascade with the kind of open curiosity that hadn't been taught fear yet. "You can ask him yourself," Akira said. The girl looked at her mother, who nodded slowly. Then she walked forward, past Akira and Takashi, straight to where Cascade sat on the golden bench. "Are you lonely?" she asked. Cascade lowered his head until his eyes were level with hers. "Not anymore," he said, and his voice came out gentler than Akira had ever heard it. The mother followed her daughter. The father came next, slower, keeping the younger child's hand in his. They stood in a half-circle around the gazebo, not running, not backing away. Just standing there with a dragon and a displacer beast and a magi who'd been told his whole life that this would never work. Akira felt Takashi shift beneath his hand, felt the displacer beast's weight lean into him with something that might have been relief or satisfaction or just exhaustion. The family wasn't like the child who'd asked to pet Takashi that first time — they'd been afraid, they'd run once already. But they'd come back. That was different. That was something Akira hadn't known to look for. He released Takashi and walked over to the frosted bench near the path, the one he'd placed there for visitors who needed a moment to gather themselves. He gestured to it. "You can sit if you need to," he said to the parents. The mother shook her head. "I think we're fine standing." The father was watching his daughter trace the edge of Cascade's wing with careful fingers. "She's been talking about that dragon since we left," he said. "Wouldn't let it go." Akira looked back at Cascade, who had angled himself so the girl could reach his shoulder