By the end of his second month Azendandor figured out how to fly, and wanted everyone to know it. Instead of satisfying himself with riding on Alisa's shoulder or wrist or head like most of the dragons still small enough to do so, he flew around her in dizzying circles, constantly switching directions when the lead started to get too short from being twisted around her body.

Sometimes he'd do this for a few minutes, racing faster and faster until he wore himself out and landed on Alisa’s shoulder to rest a minute before resuming. Other times he paced himself and flew around at a relatively sedate pace, coiling and twisting as he went, as though posing. He basically had two settings: constant motion, or utter stillness. No middle ground. No calm sedate stride for Zen. He’d stand unmoving for hours in the sun, or fly at full speed after anything that caught his fancy with Alisa running along to try and keep up.

She wouldn’t be able to put off bonding him much longer, but she wanted to try for an escape attempt before then.

She'd whispered her plan to him time and again, coaxed him through the steps, and hoped beyond hope that he'd be able to follow through without her constant coaching. She trusted him, but he was also sometimes a forgetful little noodle and went chasing off after any odd-shaped thing that caught his attention.

There was also the matter of the escape attempt requiring him to be actually legitimately loose, which would be his first time without her holding him on a lead.

Alisa told herself she wouldn't mind if he decided he liked his freedom and flew off on his own to a better life. She halfway hoped he would. But she still felt a pang at the thought. They'd been together his whole life, and she'd grown attached to him despite the lingering conflict of interests.

Even if he did leave, she wasn't sure she'd ever stop thinking of Zen as 'her' dragon, however far away he may end up.

She stayed awake late into the night, carefully covering his body with a complete surface of leaves to conceal the bright glint of his silvery scales. He preened at the attention, and spent some time admiring his new clothes in the mirror. Alisa couldn't help but wonder if he'd want others once they were away. The process of affixing them to his scales required magic, tiny little drops like glue to hold it still, applied through a filter on a mold she'd painstakingly carved with many a failure. Fortunately, with molded magic there was no size consideration to be concerned with, but it was much less flexible than circle or hand casting.

Zen nodded as she repeated the directions, then curled up in his nest to rest before his grand escape. He'd need to be at his best for the night to come.

Alisa startled awake to a shattering crash of breaking glass. She sat bolt upright, suddenly wide awake, sense and memory fleeing as she stared around in an instinctive panic. What— where— who—

Then she remembered, and looked at the stray leaf impaled on a shard of glass in what remained of her window. Zen had broken out, as planned.

She swallowed, fighting the desire to run after him right now. She had to give it some time, or he could be found before he had time to get well away. She ran to the window and thought she saw the faint glint of the single exposed scale in the moonlight. Other than that, Zen was nothing but a racing shadow low to the ground.

"Good boy," she whispered, melancholy overtaking her. She gathered her possessions slowly, careful to only bring objects she'd created herself or knew could not possibly contain tracing spells. Clothing she'd purchased could come; clothing provided by the school had to stay. Gifts Sadie had given her could come with...

Sadie.

Alisa's hands stilled as she thought of her friend. She'd somehow completely failed to consider including her in this scheme. When had that happened? Had Zen supplanted Sadie as her closest friend somehow? No, surely not. They were both busy. That was all.

But now that she considered letting her best friend in on the scheme, she quickly discarded the idea. Sadie would be the first person anyone asked. It was safer, better for everyone involved, if she knew nothing.

Alisa finished packing, but her heart wasn't in it. She'd only been thinking of what she'd be escaping when she put the plan together, not everything she'd be leaving behind. She tried to imagine how she'd feel if Sadie and Mirva just up and vanished one day without a word, and a heavy lump formed in her throat. She couldn't do that to her friend. But if she tried to tell her anything it would compromise the plan.

Well. Nothing for it but to keep going. She couldn't stop now. If she ever had the chance, she'd send a note. But for the moment, she wouldn't change anything.

She paced for several minutes to give Zen a head start, then rushed out into the hall and started shouting for Zo Rienna. People woke, voices were raised in irritation, and chaos began to spill out into the night.

Alisa babbled her carefully-crafted story, waking in the night, the window broken, her dragon fleeing. She had to find him, had to go catch him before he got away.

Things were organized far too quickly. People started dispatching spells. Messengers ran in and out. Dragons flew in every direction. Alisa had hoped to sneak out in the chaos, but she was the center of so much attention she couldn't possibly slip away without being noticed.

She silently willed Zen to find a safe place and stay low, not to get caught up in anything, not to get himself found. She had to focus on her own half of the problem for now, and trust him to deal with his.

The wait for the searchers to return felt interminable. She couldn't bear the silence, couldn't handle the constant discussion and speculation. Lia showed up at some point to berate her and say 'I told you so' about her delayed bonding, the tutor gave her a stern talking-to...

Alisa weathered it all with weary annoyance, playing up her very real exhaustion until they finally gave her enough peace to sit. But then she was alone and it was quiet, and she couldn't stop thinking and worrying. If she left the room they'd all swarm her again. She needed to wait for the hubbub to die down entirely.

The waiting hurt. It burned away her patience, worrying at the edges of her mind. She couldn't ignore the imposition of concern, the constant worry, the flinch at any sound. Maybe they'd found Zen already and they'd bring him back in chains. Maybe she'd been too slow, and they suspected she was up to something. Maybe, maybe, maybe...

Reports came in. No sign of him to the north. Nothing in the south. He must have headed for the eastern wilds. No catching him there, not at night. But he'd be noticeable in the day. Aelaniri were not native to the region, so he'd stand out. They'd find him. She shouldn't worry.

Alisa nodded, but she quietly hoped that Zen hadn't gone east. They hadn't discussed direction, only destination.

They'd meet at the south gate within two days, if she could find her way there. If not, he should go on without her. She wasn't sure if he would do so.

Now she had to find a way to sneak herself out.

That one turned out to be easier than she'd anticipated, if more time-consuming. She knew there were people who came and went constantly, bringing in supplies, food, and carrying away the waste generated by hundreds of growing dragons. Nearly all dragons left scales shed everywhere, for one thing, and the repairs to the grounds were constant. If not for the tireless effort of a dozen landscapers bringing in fresh grass, the place would look like a war zone rather than an academy.

Simple enough to swap her student's robe for a groundskeeper's tunic, cover her bundle of belongings with a pile of discarded scales, and trudge out as though she were removing the refuse. She only had to time it so no one would recognize her.

She spent the following day gathering what she needed and preparing. She slept fitfully that night, the room feeling empty and quiet without Zen's presence.

But it meant she was awake in the foggy morning to see the groundskeepers clearing away debris before the morning lessons. Her opportunity had come, and she took it.

She walked steadily, resisting the urge to rush, heart pounding the entire time. She couldn't shake the certainty that Francine would prance up behind her and ruin everything at the worst possible moment, or that a teacher would happen to walk by and recognize her hair or her gait and call her out.

She didn’t dare look behind her for fear of raising suspicion.

But then she was out, into the outer academy, where those with larger dragons lived now that the normal living quarters were insufficient. One hurdle passed, and she had to run another gauntlet of windows and strangers any of whom could turn and point at her as an outsider at any moment.

No shouts echoed after her, no one called her out.

Somehow, miraculously, she left the academy entirely without incident.

It seemed wrong, too easy. She hastily discarded the dragon scales and garbage at the nearest refuse heap, then hurried toward the market. She knew the way from many trips over the past years, knew the best stalls for someone with as tight a budget as herself, knew the places likely to offer a few hours' work.

She'd been through the market often enough that many of the vendors could also potentially recognize her as well. She couldn't allow that, couldn't afford to be noticed.

She slipped down a side alley, disturbing a small flock of wild dragons who hissed and flapped away at her approach. They looked like tiny cousins of the Blaze breed with their triangular pointed wings and slim lizard-like builds, their main distinguishing characteristic a second set of claws above the primary ones on each foreleg.

Someone coughed from the shadows and Alisa hurried on, not wanting to get caught up in anything weird. The city was ostensibly safe for students, but she didn't wear her robe and had left her stylus behind in case it could be tracked.

Also, she had only vague ideas of what had happened to the place in the wake of The Traitor's rise. Nearly everything seemed to go on as it had been, nearly without interruption, but she knew there had to be some repercussions to the sudden loss of dozens of important country leaders. Surely they weren't so utterly insignificant that half of them could be slaughtered and things just continue as though they didn't matter.

She wasn't sure where policing the streets and tolerance of criminal elements may lay on that scale, and didn't want to find out the hard way.

She exhaled with relief when she reached the end of the alley. and hurried south on the main road. This was partly calculation on her part, as her own homeland of Leviir lay to the northeast. The land to the south, Falizue, wasn't exactly hostile, but they didn't have open borders like Leviir did. A fugitive would have a much harder time escaping into Falizue than anywhere else. Even Azier or the more distant Aelend would be more welcoming.

Alisa knew that, and everyone knew that, and she wasn't sure how slippery-minded the people in charge of finding her would be once they realized she'd escaped.

She reached the appointed meeting place, a particular inn with a sizable paddock out back, with plenty of time. Perhaps too much time, but she’d not been about to miss an opportunity when it so perfectly presented itself.

A few hours of waiting wouldn't hurt...

She found a quiet corner between hay bales and sat down, her eyes drooping almost the moment she sat down. The tenseness and weariness of the past days felt overwhelming. Even though it was before noon, she’d barely slept at all for several days.

She woke with Zen nudging her, grumbled and rolled over to go back to sleep, then snapped awake as he whimpered and nosed her again more firmly.

Several of his leaves were missing, a whole strip of them down one side, as though he'd been clawed by something or snagged himself on a branch. But he still looked distinctively green and dull, apart from the shiny stripe.

"Zen! You found me!"

He huffed out as though to say 'of course I did, how could you doubt my magnificence,' holding his head up haughtily and looking down at her with the look of supreme smugness.

Alisa laughed weakly. "Yes, you've done very well. Now let's get out of here before anyone sees you."

She held out her pack and Zen gave her one last condescending look before slithering inside and making himself at home. She heard some distinct ripping sounds, making her wince at the likely destruction of her backup clothing, but the important part was that Zen was concealed and they could go.

As they ran, she was careful not to look around her. She ran with her pack on her back, at the casual haste of a worker making a delivery, not the furtive scurry of a fugitive. Zen kept nosing at her back through the fabric of the bag, and she poked him back to assure him that they were still making progress.

It took hours to clear the suburbs. Renand's capital was one of the largest cities in the world, attracting all types. Even in the wake of the Traitor's upheaval the place was bustling.

Then they were out, the town finally petering out to a few scattered farms, and Alisa searched for a safe place to pause and rest. She wasn’t used to walking for so long and her legs were screaming at her to stop moving.

A small shrine beckoned, the half roof providing shelter from the early afternoon sun, the dimness inside offering shelter from any recognition by passersby.

Alisa sat down on one of the curved benches with a sigh of relief, out of breath. The lingering fear and dread still pulsed through her body, the constant certainty that someone would come up and—

"Good day," said a pleasant male voice, and Alisa jumped up with a scream.

A tall man stood by the shrine's window, half hidden in the shadow. He wore dark clothing which helped him blend in, but now he'd drawn attention to himself she wondered how she'd missed him. He had dark hair to his shoulders and a short, neat beard. Something of his affect reminded her of Lane Ryvas, a sort of world-weariness beneath stubborn determination to keep going, but he lacked the magic scars so prevalent on the battlemage.

"I'm sorry to have startled you, Miss Veyara. I trust Azendandor is well?"

Alisa frowned and opened her mouth, but wasn't sure what to say, so only made an 'ahhh' sound instead.

"Zen, come on out," the man said, gently. He held out a hand and Alisa instinctively flinched back until she saw he held a ruby-tipped stylus. He was ... offering it to her?

"What's this?" she asked, not taking it. Zen poked his head out, then she felt him crawl onto her shoulder as he flicked his tongue at the stranger.

"A gift for you, to facilitate your future."

"Right. And, who are you?"

"A friend of Zen's." He turned to the dragon and made a few growling hisses.

Zen answered in kind, then launched himself from Alisa's shoulder and landed on the stranger's head, where he coiled into a circle. Alisa felt strangely jealous.

"I have no intention of stealing your dragon," the stranger said. He stepped forward, pushing the stylus toward her. "The ruby is more precise than your school-issued variant. You can complete your bond safely here."

Alisa stared at him. Had ... had Zen spent their day apart recruiting this man? How?

"Did you do this?" she demanded, frowning at her fickle dragon.

Zen hissed smugly and raised his head, twisting so the side of his neck lay exposed, and stilled himself completely, only the tip of his tail twitching.

"He wants it there," the man said, pointing to the spot. "Go on. I'll correct you if you start to make a mistake."

Alisa bristled at that. "I don't make mistakes." She snatched the stylus, held it while it charged and attuned to her power, then stepped toward the man. Zen leaned down so she could more easily reach, and she inscribed the circle on his neck with quick confident strokes.

The stranger was right, the ruby stylus did work better. It didn't fully alleviate the thick heavy nature of dragonfire, but it certainly minimized leakage.

"I suggest you sit down," the stranger said, helping her to the bench. "The bond will be a bit of a shock."

Alisa started to protest, then the world doubled and she felt intensely nauseous. She leaned over, gasping for air as her body rebelled. She lay coiled on her new friend's shoulder, watching her partner with concern. She felt the tension in her wings, flexed and ready to spring, felt the pent up fear and relief and weariness, felt —

Nothing.

Everything.

She was Alisa, she was Zen; she was both, she was neither... and she couldn’t say for how long she fell through that chaotic merging of mind and soul.