Alisa hurried to the lawn, feeling very strange without Azendandor following at her heels. How had she gotten so used to his presence so quickly?

She hastily collected a few branches from trees where they wouldn't be noticed, then turned around to rush back to her room.

A familiar voice brought her to a sudden stop.

"Alisa! Where's your dragon?"

She bit at her lip, then forced a smile and turned to face Zo Rienna. "In my room. He refuses to let me harness him again."

"I can help you if you need assistance." The dragon tutor crossed the lawn toward her. "You need to start bringing him out around others as soon as possible. It's unhealthy for him to stay indoors this much. Aelaniri need a lot of sunlight."

"He sits on the windowsill almost all day," Alisa said with a frown. "That's sun. Should be enough. Right?"

"Perhaps. But exercise is good for him as well. Essential, in fact. He’ll grow thin and lazy if he doesn’t have room to roam."

“But I can’t—” Alisa sighed and shook her head. “Alright, you can come with me. Help me get him ready and I’ll bring him outside.”

“Good.”

Alisa led the older woman back to her room. Azendandor had been setting off a dreadful racket, growling and scratching at the door, but he dropped the dramatics and promptly attempted to squirm out through the gap the moment the door began to open, then hissed and backed off as he noticed the stranger.

"You know her," Alisa scolded. "She's been looking out for you since you were hatched!"

Still, the distraction allowed them to get inside and the door closed before he could slip out. She was glad of that. If he got loose in the residence hall, she wasn't sure she'd ever track him down.

"I need you to hold him for now until he calms down," Zo Rienna said, taking the harness off the doorknob and moving to stand by the window, looking out, as though she were paying no attention to the pair of them.

Alisa made coaxing 'Tsss, tssi,' noises and held out a hand toward the dragon-shaped lump in her bedding, but Zen was paying no attention to her.

"Well, there's always this." Alisa sat on the bed, and Zen wriggled toward her. "Ready for a little trip?"

Zen tilted his head, or so she assumed, as he remained a dragon-shaped lump under her bedding. But his head-shaped lump moved to the side as if he were tilting his head.

Alisa put her arms down on either side of him, then quickly brought them together, wrapping him up blankets and all. He squirmed and growled, the sound muffled by the bedding, and she held out the oversized lumpy bundle to Zo Rienna. "Will this work?"

She laughed gently and nodded. "Careful with that, though. He's apt to chew his way out if you try it again, once he realizes what you're up to."

Alisa winced at the idea. So far, the worst he'd done was get claw holes in every piece of clothing she owned and leave snagged threads down the bedspread. If he actively tried to destroy it, he would probably succeed.

"Noted."

Zo Rienna observed the wriggling bundle for a long moment, then located a fold and coaxed it open, arranging the harness's neck loop around the opening. Zen eventually poked his head out and started to squirm his way out, only for the loop to snap tight with a clank of chain against scales.

"It's okay, it's okay!" Alisa grabbed him before he could retreat, holding him so the loop wouldn't choke him, letting the blankets and sheet fall away. Azendandor hissed at her for the betrayal, then turned his head away to growl threateningly at Zo Rienna strapping the rest of the harness around his wings and forelegs.

"Oh, I brought you something,” Alisa said, hoping to distract him. “I'll put them in your nest for you. Here." She set the branches there, as though that had been why she grabbed them. The moment the tutor released him, Azendandor immediately jumped down to examine them thoroughly. He slithered up one, nibbled at the leaves before spitting them out vehemently, and crawled down the other side.

Then one of the chains snagged on a twig, bringing him to a sharp halt. With a snarl, he flared his wings and thrashed his body about until the branch snapped in half.

That wasn't enough for him, apparently, because he continued attacking the twig until it was reduced to splinters and scraps of bark, then attacked the metal links around his stomach connecting the neck and wing loops of the harness.

"Violent today, aren't we?" Alisa asked, sighing. She knelt down and Zen stopped worrying at the chains and stood very still and erect. He looked away as though he had no interest in her existence whatsoever. “I know you’re watching me,” she said, poking him in the side. “I see you flicking your tongue so fast. You think I don’t know what that means? You’re checking for my scent moving away. I’m not going to fall for it.”

Zen huffed out a breath and continued his overly dramatic attempt to ignore her.

She clipped the leash to the harness in a single quick darting motion before he could squirm away, then stood up before he decided to snap at her hand. He was usually pretty good about not biting, but you never know. Rile him up enough, and he could do anything. He hadn't manifested fire breath or acid spit or any other draconic hallmarks yet, but she knew it was only a matter of time and motivation. It was entirely possible that they could show up at any time. Probably not until he was at least six months old, but probability didn't mean everything.

"Come on. We're going outside." She led him toward the door, and he resisted out of principle for few seconds, until the door opened. Then he seemed to forget his resentment entirely and ran eagerly out into the hall, climbing all over everything in sight, getting his lead tangled around decorative pillars, and otherwise being a nuisance. She was glad it was during class time, or there might have been other people around to witness his ridiculous behavior.

Zo Rienna followed them for a few minutes, watching to be sure Zen didn't do anything ridiculous enough to be worth mentioning, but she eventually smiled and nodded.

"You're doing very well. He seems healthy and completely normal. You'll need to make sure to keep up on his exercise, but he doesn't seem stunted in that regard at all."

She gave a few more suggestions, which Alisa half paid attention to and half disregarded as her attention was drawn back to her insane dragon and his antics.

"Have you been able to take him to a class yet?"

Alisa shook her head. "I didn't want to scare him and have him acting up and distracting everyone."

"Then bring him to an outdoor lesson. I know those are becoming more and more common as we transition toward full dragon integration."

Alisa nodded, and only then did Zo Rienna finally leave her alone.

She didn’t like thinking about the transition, but the work on converting the place was evident all around. Necessary work. Before long, Francine's dragon wouldn't fit into the building at all, let alone through doorways. And though the grandus would likely be the first to outgrow the current buildings, she wouldn't be the only one.

There was a lot of work to do in converting the academy for larger dragons, and she was continually astonished by how much thought and detail the Traitor had gone to in his orders for the place. Every stage of the transition was covered in exacting detail, from which areas to take over and which teachers to dismiss and hire elsewhere, to a schedule conversion.

It made it very clear that this specific action was not random. He had big plans for his new dragon mage academy, and nothing would stand in his way. Not the students, not the teachers, not logistics, and not sanity.

Zen tugged at his leash, and Alisa moved to let him reach whatever he was trying to get at. It wouldn't hurt anything for him to go scratching around in the flowerbeds...

Then she remembered something Mirva had mentioned, and realized that he was in fact trying to make himself a burrow.

"No, Zen. Stop." She tugged on the lead, pulling his head out of the newly-excavated hole.

Azendandor hissed and growled irritably, walked in a disconsolate figure-eight, then darted toward the hole again when he thought she'd forgotten. He jumped just before reaching the end of the lead, flapping his wings as he tried to increase his forward momentum, but his weight and force wasn't close to enough to tug his lead from Alisa's hand.

"Got to get bigger and stronger before you expect that to work," she said, grinning at him. "Besides, you need sunlight and exercise, not a new place to laze around in."

Zen kept up a discontented low rumble in his throat for almost two minutes before a glint of sunlight on stone attracted his attention and he went bouncing off after the decorative rock. Alisa followed at a jog, allowing him to dictate the direction.

And yet, when she saw others start to come out, with their dragons walking free or running ahead of them unrestrained, sitting on heads or shoulders or around wrists or clinging to backs, she felt oddly ashamed. Everyone else had succeeded, regardless of how tiny their dragons had been at the time they hatched. Everyone else had a happy, safely bonded, free dragon. Only Alisa had to hold hers down with chains and straps and physical force.

She shouldn't feel bad, she was doing it to protect him, but ... it still made her want to hide. Alas, Francine emerged with her strutting Grandus before Alisa could make an escape, and her eyes glinted with evil satisfaction at seeing her longtime rival stooping to such crude methods to control her beast.

“Come here, Zen,” Alisa said softly, and to her surprise he immediately stopped trying to dig the shiny stone from the ground and slinked to her low along the ground, looking around with his wings half raised and back tense.

She held out a hand, and he crawled obligingly up onto it, and then she held him to her chest and sprinted for the dorm building, trying not to imagine everyone staring and pointing and laughing. It didn’t matter.

Tears stung at her eyes, belying her attempted self-deception.

It shouldn’t matter. Why did it still matter?

Hadn’t she given up? Hadn’t she decided caring about anyone’s opinion was pointless? How was it they could still hurt her even now?

Azendandor made a low whining growl, and she felt his coils tense as though he were preparing to strike. She tried to reassure him, but her voice came out in wordless sobs instead.

It was too much.

Everything was just too much. She couldn’t handle any more.

Something had to give.

She burst into her room and threw herself onto her bed. She didn't even have the presence of mind to unlatch Azendandar's harness, so he ended up crumpled beneath her in a squirming hissing pile of dragon. She buried her face in her pillow, shifting just enough that Zen could slither out from under her, but for once he didn't start tugging at the lead or trying to claw it off. He crawled up onto her back and lay his head against her neck, his warm breath puffing against her chin as he made querulous little sounds.

"I'm sorry," she sobbed, the words muffled by her pillow. "I know you don't understand me, and I can't understand you, and I know you hate being chained as much as I do."

She still hadn't expelled all her grief and worry by the time a soft tap at her door heralded the arrival of an unplanned visitor. She tried to regulate her breathing, rubbed away her tears, but she knew there was no chance she could pretend things were okay. She let Zen drape himself over her shoulders, then opened the door.

"Sadie," she said, voice unsteady. "What brings you here?"

"Are you alright?" Sadie asked gently, coming in and closing the door behind her. Mirva chirped and Zen said something in reply. Sadie frowned. "What's wrong?"

Alisa shook her head. "Nothing. Everything. It's all so stupid. I feel so stupid. I shouldn't care. I know I shouldn't. It doesn't matter. It's-- it's so s--stupid..." she lost control, dissolving back into shaking sobs. Sadie came over and gently wrapped her in a hug, holding her tight and letting her cry.

"It's okay to be sad," Sadie said. "It's nothing to be ashamed of. You don't have to hide it."

"B-but it's so si-silly." Alisa drew a deep shuddering breath, trying to calm herself, but it didn't help. "I know everyone else is ha-happy to be doing all this special training, to be going off to war. I don't-don't want to. I hate it. I hate the Traitor, I hate dragons, I hate Zen, and I--I know I shouldn't and I know it's not his fault. I hate that I have to bond him and I hate that I haven't yet and I hate everyone judging me. I can't do this. I can't."

Zen made a sudden deep whining buzz and she felt a tug on the lead as he ran toward the window. She twisted her hand free and dropped the loop so he would be unencumbered.

"It'll be alright," Sadie murmured gently. "You'll get through this."

"Will I?" Alisa stood up stiffer, drawing her face back from Sadie's shoulder. "Will I really? And what good will that do? It's going to be like this for the rest of my life, Sadie. This isn't a detour, it's a klypsing cliff we're falling off. There's no going back. Nothing is ever going to matter."

"It will. This will pass. You get used to anything, given enough time." Lingering sorrow tinted Sadie's voice, and Alisa felt briefly annoyed that her wealthy, well-off friend could dare pretend to know what it was like to lose everything.

Zen was still whining, keening, and Mirva shifted uncomfortably on Sadie's shoulder. After neither girl made a move, Mirva jumped down and hesitantly approached the dragon lying desolately on the windowsill, stretched out like an exhausted rope, head raised to wail at the ceiling.

"You probably shouldn't have said you hate him where they could hear," Sadie said very quietly. "I think he took it personally."

Alisa immediately felt guilty. After she'd tried so hard to hide any hint of animosity, now she'd come right out and screamed it in front of him while he had an interpreter.

She buried her face in Sadie's shoulder again, and tried to think of any way to make amends. Sadie held her until she gathered herself sufficiently to nod and disengage, backing up a step to make it clear she was done.

Zen was still whining, though it was a quiet, defeated sound now. "Guess it's time to run damage control." Alisa laid across her bed on her stomach, facing the windowsill-covering dragon. "Zen, I know you're listening. I know it's not your fault, what we have to do. I don't blame you. I truly don't."

Mirva chirped quickly, and Zen turned his head away even more, raising his chin in defiance.

"I'm sorry you're stuck with me. If there were any other choice, I'd be happy to get out of the way and let you find someone who better suits you."

Zen started keening louder again.

"Mirva says he thinks you're planning to send him away," Sadie said quietly.

"Oh, no, nothing like that. I do love you, Zen. And that’s why— that’s why I wish you’d been able to have someone better than me.”

Mirva chirped, and Sadie shook her head. “Too complicated. He doesn’t understand.”

Zen looked so utterly miserable, Alisa couldn’t bear it. She picked him up, ignoring his displeasure, and held him close against her chest. “I’ll protect you. I’ll always protect you. I swear.”

Zen slowly lifted his head to look at her, his eyes open wide, staring into her soul. She swallowed her own grief, her own hurt, her own confusion, and stared back with the closest thing to unwavering resolve that she could muster.

He was too young to understand the complexities, the depth of the chaos within her. So she had to be straightforward and simple.

“Whatever it costs, I know you’re mine, and I’m yours. I promise you, Azendandor, I will never abandon you.” She carefully unlatched the harness, dropping it to the floor, then held him closer. “Whatever it takes. I’m yours for as long as you want me.”

Zen continued staring for a long, long moment, while Mirva chirped and growled the translation, then he reached out one tiny clawed foot. Alisa blinked down at him as he slowly climbed up to her shoulder, then scrambled up to perch atop her head. It tickled, the prick of dragon claws across her scalp, and she shivered involuntarily. Then he flopped down, head hanging alongside her left cheek, tail on her right, and exhaled slowly in a deep huff of warm air, before nuzzling his long neck and head against the side of her face.

Sadie smiled. “He says you’re his forever, too.”

Alisa took a long deep breath and pushed all her resentment and anger and hatred down deep inside herself, burying it under the knowledge that if she ever let it out she’d end up hurting Zen again. And that was one thing she’d never wanted.

She couldn’t smile, but she did nod with resolve. “Then it’s settled. Guess we’re stuck with each other for good.”

Zen hissed in agreement, and then promptly fell asleep. She felt him begin to slide off her head like a limp rope, and carefully relocated him to his nest. He curled up into a surprisingly small bundle, clearly worn out from all the excitement.

“Rest well, Zen,” she said, wiping the stray tears from her eyes. “And I’ll figure a way out of this, for both of us.”