Chapter 7
When Ando next opened his eyes, it took him a moment to make sense of anything at all.
He was wrapped snugly in a heavy winter cloak, a deep, steady warmth seeping through his limbs. For a heartbeat, he simply lay there, suspended in that comfort—until he lifted his gaze.
Yuki was right above him.
And in the instant he understood where he was—what was happening—the color drained from his face.
He was airborne.
Still half-reclined against Yuki’s chest, Ando found himself riding on the back of a Steedraptor, cutting through the open sky. One of her arms held him securely in place, firm and unyielding, while the other guided the reins with effortless control.
They were higher than anything he had ever imagined. Far below, clouds drifted past—no, not above him, but beneath his feet.
The sheer impossibility of it stole his breath.
“Oh—you're awake?”
“Y-Your Majesty! Wh—what is this?!”
“Sorry,” Yuki said with a small, sheepish smile. “You never woke up—not even once since yesterday—so we just headed out.”
She tilted her head slightly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
“It’s already the next evening.”
“I—I beg your pardon!”
“Hey, it’s really fine,” she said lightly. “We’ll fly a bit longer, then make camp for the night. Your big brother—the commander—packed everything up for you.”
He hadn’t even managed a proper farewell before departing. Shame and remorse twisted in his chest, leaving Ando utterly at a loss for where to put himself.
Perched on the back of a Steedraptor high above the clouds, streaking across the sky, even the slightest movement felt dangerous. Not wanting to get in her way, he went completely still.
The sky was slowly turning amber to the west.
The setting sun lit the edges of the clouds and washed the mountains below in gold. Beneath them, an endless stretch of dark conifer forest rolled on. Long shadows stretched across the land as ridges and valleys slipped past in a steady, flowing sweep.
They were moving far faster than anything on the ground. The scenery rushed by in a blur.
The wind was cold, but the cloak held it back. Warmers sewn inside kept him comfortable. He felt only the force of the air—their speed made tangible.
Yuki’s steady heartbeat beneath his cheek gave him something to hold on to.
Ando exhaled.
—So this is how dragons see the world.
Colors you’d never notice from the ground. Shapes that only made sense from above. Air so clear it almost felt unreal.
Yuki guided the Raptor without hesitation, driving it forward as if she could already see where they were going.
When his Dormancy ended… would he see it like this too?
Leaning into her solid, unwavering presence, Ando fixed the scene in his mind—the fading light, the forest flowing beneath them—determined not to forget it.
As the last glow of sunset faded, the Steedraptor dipped down into the mountains.
Below, a fast-moving river threaded through a narrow channel of rock, its surface veiled in drifting steam where the heated earth warmed the water from below. Pale vapor rose from cracks in the stone, blurring the edges of the rushing current. Kiba and Azu had already landed ahead of them and were setting up camp.
“Found this on the way,” Yuki said, clearly pleased. “The ground’s warm—there are hot springs here. Too rough for humans to reach, I think.”
She grinned, looking far too satisfied for something so remote.
“I did give them Raptors, so they might find it eventually. But until then… it’s ours.”
Ando, almost by instinct, pictured a map in his mind. The sun had been setting off to their right—so they’d been heading south. Toward Tatsuno.
And this heat—this sharp, mineral tang in the air—
He knew this place.
—Mount Agnia.
It should have taken three days at a hard ride. They’d crossed the distance in half a day.
The only known volcano within Imresia, the Agnia Highlands surrounding it were held directly by the crown. The land was rich with geothermal heat and fertile volcanic soil—rare ground where crops could grow even through winter.
Grain, beans, root vegetables, hardy fruit trees. Leatherworking and dyeing powered by the hot springs. Sulfur, heat-resistant ores, and other valuable minerals. It was a region that underpinned the kingdom itself.
For that reason, it was tightly controlled. A trusted lord governed it in the king’s name, and a standing force of knights was stationed nearby.
Ando had never been assigned here permanently, but before his transfer to the Royal Guard, he’d come once for joint military exercises.
Leave troops in place, and you invite resentment. Leave it unguarded, and you invite conflict.
No one reckless enough to meddle with royal land should exist—but there were always those who watched for weakness, waiting.
Camping here, of all places…? The thought surfaced on instinct—the reflex of a royal guardsman.
And just as quickly, it fell apart.
Yuki was crouched by a pool of steaming water, testing it with her hand—smiling like none of it mattered at all.
“No one’s climbing this high,” Yuki said with a shrug. “There’s not even a game trail. And anyway—nothing in this world goes after dracoserpens.”
Then Azu smirked and added, “Well… maybe a skunk.”
“…Fair enough,” Yuki said, nodding with a completely straight face. Wani snorted.
“…A skunk?” Ando asked.
Azu made a face like he’d just bitten into something rotten. “Small animal. When it feels threatened, it sprays this unbelievably foul stuff from its rear. If it gets on you, no amount of washing gets the smell out for days. If it hits your eyes, it burns so bad you can’t see—and if you breathe it in…”
He went distant for a moment.
“…For three days, everything I ate tasted like it.”
Something like a weasel, then—one of the kinds found in Imresia.
Still, that experience… Ando couldn’t help but feel for him.
“My sympathies…”
Tien let out a laugh. “You probably won’t find any here. It’s a bit too cold for them. Weasels, maybe?”
“We do have weasels,” Ando said, then paused, choosing his words carefully. “…Then there is nothing here that could pose a threat to us?”
Yuki gave an easy nod.
“Nothing,” she said. “Except the weasels.”
The dragons moved with easy efficiency, dividing the work as they set up camp.
Three tents went up in no time. Kiba and Azu had a fire going soon after. Wani unpacked their supplies and began laying out ingredients, his knife already moving with practiced ease. By the time the steady rhythm of chopping filled the air, Yuki and Tien returned from tending to the Steedraptors.
“I’ll help!” Yuki called.
Wani’s hands stopped.
Without a word, he calmly set the lid on the pot.
Kiba stepped forward at once—quiet, deliberate—and planted himself squarely in Yuki’s path.
“Yuki,” Wani said gently, though there was no room to argue beneath the smile, “why don’t you wash up first? You can help with cleanup afterward.”
Yuki made a disgruntled face, about to protest—but Kiba cut her off.
“Your ‘taste testing’ has a measurable impact on the final portions,” he said flatly. “Tien, take her.”
“Got it. C’mon, Yuki—bath time.”
Grumbling under her breath, Yuki let herself be led off toward the steaming pools behind the rocks.
The same being who had commanded lightning in the cathedral… now wasn’t even allowed near the pot.
Feeding the fire, Ando could only stare.
By the time the two returned, dinner was nearly ready.
As he helped where he could, Ando suddenly caught a faint stir in the brush nearby. He borrowed a small knife from Kiba.
A moment later—he read the movement, then threw.
The rabbit dropped.
“Oh.”
“That was fast.”
The dragons gave a small round of applause. Yuki’s eyes lit up.
“Not bad.”
Ando dipped his head slightly. “You’re too kind.”
“Let’s cook it,” Azu said. “Tonight’s a feast.”
With practiced ease, he skinned the rabbit and dressed it, stripping the meat from the bone. A quick sprinkle of salt, a flat pan over the fire—and before long, a rich, savory aroma began to drift through the camp.
That night’s meal, warmed by the fire and scented faintly with the hot springs, sank deep into their bones.
The cold, the tension—somewhere along the way, both slipped into the background, carried off on laughter.
After the meal, while Yuki and Tien took care of the cleanup, Kiba, Wani, and Azu went to use the springs.
Ando stayed behind to help, but before long the others returned, steam still clinging faintly to them.
“Ando,” Kiba called, “go wash up while that pervert is occupied.”
“Hey—are we still on that? I said I got it already.” Yuki shot back from behind him.
Ando had no idea how to respond. Caught between them, he managed an awkward thanks and slipped away toward the rocks.
The black stone formed a natural screen, blocking any line of sight. Alone, he sank into the pool.
The moment the water reached his shoulders, that same sensation—first felt in the cathedral—returned, wrapping around him completely.
This spring ran even hotter than the one before. Heat seeped in slowly, melting through the cold that had settled deep in his bones.
The chill of the day, the strain of flight—everything seemed to dissolve.
When he lifted his gaze, a thin crescent moon hung in the sky, sharp and pale, with stars scattered around it.
Through the drifting steam, the light felt distant, almost unreal.
—I don’t want this place known at court.
The thought slipped in unbidden—unworthy of a servant of Imresia.
And yet… no voice rose to rebuke it.
Nearby, the fire crackled.
From beyond it, Yuki and the others’ laughter carried softly through the night air.
It was all too calm. Too beautiful.
His chest tightened, and for a moment, it felt like tears might come again.
Ando quickly dipped his face beneath the water. Letting the heat and the sound swallow him, he gave himself over to it—just for a while, thinking of nothing.
That night, Yuki shared a tent with Tien, Wani with Azu, and Ando with Kiba.
Inside the tents, large heated stones had been set in place, and despite the thin fabric walls, the space was surprisingly warm.
“If you get cold, say something,” Azu said. “And don’t worry about sleeping in.”
Wani added with a small smile, “Don’t fight the drowsiness. During Dormancy, that’s the most important thing.”
Kiba, noticing Ando’s lingering concern about oversleeping this morning, spoke up as well.
“If you’re not awake when we leave, we’ll carry you again—same as today. Just be aware of that.”
Ando nodded and bowed his head.
“…As you say. I shall retire, then. Good night to you all.”
Before long, the steady rhythm of breathing was already coming from Wani’s tent.
From the other side, Yuki, Tien, and Azu were still talking in hushed voices, quiet laughter slipping out now and then.
“…Hey.”
Kiba’s low voice cut through the night.
“Enough. Get some sleep. We move at dawn.”
“Yeesh, okay…” came the reluctant reply, their voices fading at last.
“Sorry about them,” Kiba said with a small shrug.
Ando shook his head.
“Please, Lord Kiba. There is nothing for which you need apologize. …No. This has been the finest camp I have ever known.”
The words came more easily than he expected.
It truly was nothing like the harsh encampments he had known during military exercises.
Kiba narrowed his eyes slightly, the hint of a smile touching his lips. “I see.”
He reached over and gave Ando’s head a brief, gentle pat.
The steady warmth of the heated stone filled the tent. Even the sounds of the night beyond the fabric felt distant.
Ando let himself sink into that warmth, closing his eyes without a care for wolves howling in the distance or the marks of bears upon the land.
For the first time in a long while, he felt safe.
