Lysandra sat low in her saddle, leaning forward she urged Zamira to gain speed and continue to follow the road way beneath them. The countryside was picturesque; covered in lush green grass and pink and white wild flowers. She closed her eyes and felt the suns warmth upon her face. The wind rushing past set her long white hair dancing in rhythm to the twist and turns of its currents. She had always loved flying; it made her feel limitless and free. “There is no time for reverie today.” She chastised herself, knowing that her current flight was one of great importance.
Clouds quickly rolled by and she scanned the terrain below, looking for any signs of life.
The Highland Plains held few obstacles. From a proper altitude the pair could see all the way from Madhuk Lake to the mountain city of Darslan; which they were quickly approaching.
“Zamira, the courtyard ought to be big enough for a proper landing.” Lysandra yelled to her mighty friend.
Zamira nodded and slowed as she entered the mist that canopied Darslan. The city was nestled among the clouds and visibility was nil. The air was heavy, thick and wet making it hard to breathe. They flew on and dived left as the first of the towns spires abruptly came into view. Zamira circled twice before locating the courtyard and starting her decent. Her pale blue wings fluttered just enough to keep them upright as she lowered the bulk of her massive purple body and prepared for landing. Steam loosed from her nostrils and she touched down without incident.
Lysandra slid out of the saddle careful to avoid the barbs of Zamira’s scales and spoke quickly, “Zamira, remain here. I shall bring news from His Majesty and will require your counsel.”
“I shall await your return.” Came Zamira’s telepathic reply.
Her flowing skirts, trailing in her wake Lysandra ran down the garden walk, up the castle stairs and pushed past the guards who bowed as she entered into the Great Hall.
Upon seeing her each member of the crowd turned quiet and watched with awe as she walked purposefully down the aisle to the head table. When she reached the dais she bowed respectfully and much to the amazement of the courtiers present, Seth, the Lord of Darslan, rose, spoke her name, and bowed in return.
Upon straightening, his booming voice resonated off the walls of the now silent hall, “Why have you come, Dragon Rider?”