Jahree watched as Tey, in dragon form with resplendent red scales, gracefully descended from the sky, his scales glinting in the sunlight like a thousand tiny embers. With a practiced ease, Tey lowered his massive form to the ground, allowing the man who rode upon his back to dismount. The man, who possessed fiery red hair that matched the dragon’s scales, had his long locks secured neatly in a ponytail. A distinct scar, perilously close to his eye, etched a tale of a bygone battle on his face and contributed to his intimidating demeanor. However, as he caught sight of Jahree, his expression softened into a smile and he offered a casual nod of acknowledgment before striding off in the opposite direction. As the rider vanished from view, Tey stretched his muscular neck skywards, seemingly inspecting the expanse above. Without warning, he released a powerful jet of flames from deep within his throat, sending a spectacular inferno into the air. Jahree was taken aback by the display. “How is that called?” Jahree asked using Menthan. “It’s called fire breathing,” explained the dragon, his voice resonating with a hint of pride. “All dragons have the ability to do it.” Jahree tested the new term, “Fire breathing,” letting it roll off his tongue as he committed the foreign words to memory. Shortly thereafter, the arrival of more onlookers broke the stillness of the scene. Milsa, Lair, Remti, and a gaggle of curious children from the local foster home approached, drawn by the extraordinary sight of the dragon’s fire-breathing prowess. Tey said something in a language Jahree didn’t understand. The group of kids started jumping excitedly and waving their hands, clearly thrilled at the prospect of something that was about to happen. “Don’t you want to fly?” Milsa, one of the children, asked Jahree with an inviting smile. “He’s offering us rides in the sky!” “Mama says maybe,” Jahree responded with uncertainty, not sure if he was allowed to participate in such an activity. “Let’s go ask her,” Milsa suggested, her enthusiasm undiminished. She took Jahree’s hand in her own and tugged him gently, leading him back toward his home. “Shima?” Milsa called out as she entered the dwelling. “Shima? Is it all right if Jahree comes with us?” “Mama,” Jahree echoed, following her lead. “What is it?” Shima emerged from another room, her expression a mix of curiosity and mild concern. “Fly Tey?” Jahree asked. “Yes, Tey can fly. I know.” Shima nodded, looking at Jahree with a thoughtful glance. Milsa, seeing Jahree struggle with his words, prompted him, “How are you going to learn Menthan if you don’t practice talking? Say, ‘Can I fly with Tey?’” Taking her advice to heart, Jahree repeated the question in clearer terms. “Can I fly with Tey?” “He’s giving rides to us,” Milsa quickly explained, eager to convince Shima. “He’ll take you up to show that it’s perfectly safe.” Shima sighed as she considered the request. Jahree looked up at her, bracing for the disappointment of a refusal. Much to his surprise, however, she nodded. Her consent filled him with both a surge of joy and a flutter of nerves at the adventure awaiting him. Jahree watched intently as the other children took their turns, his gaze filled with a mixture of excitement and envy. Then, it was finally his chance. To his amazement, Tey gently scooped up his mother into his massive arms. They soared briefly through the sky, the majestic span of Tey’s wings cutting through the air. When they touched down, Jahree saw that his mother’s expression had transformed from one of trepidation—reminiscent of their harrowing escape from the watch—to one of exhilarating surprise. She then turned to Jahree with a smile and gave him the permission he had been longing for: he could fly. Without hesitation, Tey reached for Jahree, cradling him securely against his sturdy chest. The dragon’s warmth radiated through Jahree, and he marveled at the smooth texture of Tey’s scales. Each scale shone like a polished, miniature red mirror, reflecting the sunlight in dazzling patterns. With a mighty beat of his wings, Tey ascended with Jahree, and the thrill of liftoff sent a shiver of excitement down the boy’s spine. “Tell me if you want to land,” Tey’s voice boomed above the wind, now amplified by their ascent. Yet Jahree had no intention of asking to land. The sensation of soaring high above the world was exhilarating. With a wide-eyed gaze, he absorbed the panoramic view: rooftops that seemed like toys scattered below them, distant horizons that seemed suddenly attainable. Once upon a time back on Tamaria, Jahree had beheld airships with curious wonder, imagining the experience of riding in one. In this moment, as he flew with Tey, he knew this adventure was by far superior. Airships were bound to their steady, predictable paths—they could not compare to the agile, freeform flight of a dragon. When Tey executed a swift, playful swoop, Jahree squealed with unadulterated joy. Such spontaneous maneuvers were beyond the capabilities of an airship, and they filled him with a sense of wild freedom. Tey’s laugh, a rumbling chuckle of shared delight, answered Jahree’s squeals. “You like that?” he asked, his tone infused with warmth. Eventually, the flight came to an end, and they descended back to the firmness of the ground. Jahree sighed, a sound of contentment mixed with the reluctance of return. As they alighted, he barely managed to articulate his gratitude amidst the rush of lingering exhilaration. “Thank you,” he said softly. “You’re welcome,” Tey responded, the depth of his voice wrapping around Jahree like a comforting blanket. Despite his feet being back on solid ground, Jahree’s heart remained aloft, beating with the memory of the wind and the boundless sky. The man with the scar had returned. His appearance was striking, a look that was reminiscent of a vigilant watchman, causing Jahree to rush past him with a mixture of caution and haste. “He’s not one of the bad people,” Milsa reassured him. “He won’t hurt you. And even if he tried, Papa Tey would roast him.” “Roast?” Jahree asked, his curiosity piqued by her choice of words. “Yes, with his fire breath. But don’t worry; he’s fond of children.” Milsa explained with a smile, trying to alleviate Jahree’s fears. As Jahree grasped the concept, the man with the scar climbed back onto Tey. With powerful wings unfurling, the duo took to the skies. Jahree watched in awe as the man and Tey ascended, their figures shrinking against the vast canvas of the sky. Eventually, they became nothing more than a distant speck, and then, as they soared beyond Jahree’s view, he found himself alone with his thoughts once again. The thrill of the encounter raced through his veins. He was eager, nearly bouncing on the balls of his feet at the thought of recounting this extraordinary experience to his father. Jahree couldn’t wait to share every detail of the remarkable event he had just witnessed.