6:30am (Warm-ups)

Tara and Zarketh arrived on time and eager to start training in the morning, it was a little earlier than Tara had gotten used to over the last few years but she had kept herself disciplined and it wouldn't take much to adjust to this new schedule. She didn't think much of the discipline of two of the other tamers as one arrived soaking wet and the other still wrapped in her sleeping blankets and required an encouraging burst of flame from her dragon to get started. Zarketh fumed and plotted payback after Porylucia's comment about the other tamers.

The pair set off around the edge of the meadow, Tara setting a fast but steady pace. After only few minutes of this and a couple of tamers overtaking Tara, Zarketh pulled ahead of her impatiently. I know you can move faster than that.

You also know I'm pacing myself, there's no point sprinting now and not being able to run at all later.

Zarketh sent back some rather uncomplimentary images and thoughts on the theme of Tara being slow and lazy and embarrassing Zarketh by letting the other tamers beat her. Tara growled something under her breath about children and sped up. Zarketh sped up in response, taunting her and soon Tara was running flat out.

That's better. Shame you still can't keep up with me though.

Unused to being inferior in anything physical and thoroughly infuriated by Zarketh's immature taunting, Tara drew on some reserve of strength she hadn't known she had and sped up again, closing the distance between them in a second and leaping onto the dragon's back, only just managing to get a grip and avoid tumbling over her head.

What was that? Tara tried to make sense of what just happened while Zarketh continued running, feeling a little surprised but mostly just smug. Tell me what you did! Tara insisted, shaken. She didn't like being surprised by her own body.

I didn't do anything, not deliberately at least. When a dragon bonds with a human they usually transfer some specific ability along with access to their mind and mana. It seems yours was speed, maybe you will be able to keep up with me after all.

Reassured that the change was normal for a new tamer and unlikely to be the first of many, Tara jumped down from Zarketh's back and continued running alongside her at a more normal speed. She wondered what the limits to this new skill were, there was a slight ache in her legs that was different from normal but otherwise she felt the same. How long could she keep that speed up for?

I felt something when you ran. It was similar to the drain of energy when I do the same thing, but less.

Then perhaps the limit is on how much energy I can take from you, I wouldn't want to tire you out and leave you vulnerable in a fight.

I think it would take a lot to do so, you need a lot less energy to move than I do, you are so small.

Tara smiled a little at the affectionate insult. We'll have to find time to test our limits. Not now, it sounds like we're both going to need our strength for the rest of today.

3:00pm (Magic Training)

Tara listened carefully and nervously to Merrik and Nova's explanation. Everything they had done so far relied on skills she already had, even if she was applying them in very different circumstances. Balancing on Zarketh's back while she did her best to throw her off was a lot harder than moving between and balancing on stationary objects. She would have several new bruises in the morning. This was something completely new, she didn't have any previous experience to draw on and she was aware of the destructive potential of uncontrolled magic. She could hurt someone, she could hurt Zarketh. They had only been together for two days and that thought already terrified her.

That won't happen. You have a sharp mind, and I won't let you lose control either.

Tara took a deep breath and calmed her mind, she could do this. She would focus and work at it like every other skill she had learnt and she would succeed. Merrik ended with a magical light show and the tamers spread out, Tara picking a spot a good distance away from everyone else. Right. Understanding. She knew how to start a fire and how to put one out but she had never really thought about how it worked, it not being of practical use to her before; she would have to rely on Zarketh's instinctive understanding. The two reached out to immerse themselves more fully in each other's minds, Zarketh focusing on her memories of breathing fire. Tara let herself become Zarketh for the second time, only holding back a small part of her own identity. She felt what it was like to breathe fire, to direct it to her will. She tried to tease out everything Zarketh knew about fire and used without actually thinking about it. She knew she needed to be more aware than Zarketh was to have control, she wasn't born to this like a dragon. When she felt like she'd gained everything she could she reluctantly pulled back to her own mind. She had learned a lot in a short time, she just had to hope it was enough.

According to Nova the next step was mana. Zarketh drew her attention easily to the pool of energy within the dragon that she herself used and Tara tried to reach out to it, touch it in some way. Nothing. How do you use it? Tara asked, frustrated after a few minutes of trying with no results. I can't explain it, I just do. No short cuts there then. She forced her mind to relax again and let herself become familiar with the energy. It took awhile but eventually she felt a connection and mana flowed through her mind and body in a sudden rush that shocked her into inaction until a nudge from Zarketh brought her focus back and she restricted the connection and stopped the flow. The power raced around her body, crackled under skin. It made her feel hyperactive and powerful, she felt a strong urge to release it, use it. She resisted and spent a few minutes just getting used to the new feeling and making sure she was in control of it, not the other way round. Then she focused on what she knew about fire and what she wanted to create, the mana responding eagerly to her wish and she let a trickle flow out of her and into a small patch of air in front of her. There was a sudden flash of light and heat as the air burnt and she took a reflexive step back and shut off the flow of power.

A burst of approval, pride and excitement came from Zarketh who had been doing her best not to distract Tara while she was trying to control magick for the first time. She roared and sent a stream of yellow fire into the sky. Tara grinned joyfully back at her. That was amazing! She spent the rest of hour practising and by the end she managed a steady flame the size of her hand hovering in the air in front of her.

Arameus woke to a spectrum of colors streaming across the room as the rays of the raising morning sun filtered through the stained glass window above the bed. Swinging his legs over and off the side of the bed, he rose and wiped the sleep from his eyes then pulled his sword from the scabbard, placed it point down on the floor and knelt down with his hands upon the pommel and recited his morning devotional. After a moments prayer, he got back to his feet and went over to the wash basin and filled it from the pitcher of water next to it, then knelt over and splashed the water on his face. The coldness of the water was unexpected and his breath caught a moment, in the back of his head he could hear a distinct Dragonish chuckle.

He dressed in simple britches and a loose fitting pullover shirt then headed down to the kitchen where the aroma of breakfast being cooked brought forth a grumbling from his belly. He offered a polite Good Morning to Lord Merrik before helping himself to a few slices of boar bacon, cheese and bread then excused himself and went outside where Alysia was already out and warming herself in the morning sun.

6:30 am (warm-ups)

Arameus and Alysia made their way to the training field in relative silence, for him, training was to be taken seriously, a trait that had been instilled in him by seeing far too many fellow Knights and Soldiers lying dead on the field of battle, many he had known that had trained with halfhearted regard.

"They smell disgusting"

He turned and gave Alysia a curious look, the statement pronounced in his brain was not her thought, evident in the disapproving look in her crystal blue orbs and the low grumbling in her throat. He followed the direction of her gaze to see the Pirate and his Dragon following behind them, not wanting to start a controversy, he encouraged Alysia to move on and he and she joined the other Tamers and Dragons as Lord Merrik began to speak on what was expected of them.

The end of Lord Merrik's instructions were punctuated by the increasing volume of incestuous cursing coming from a bundle trapped in the jaws if the Dragon named Felynne, who upon reaching the group unceremoniously dumped the bundle on the ground. Once Sparks pulled herself from the bundle, he and the other Tamers took off and started to run their laps only to cringe slightly as Sparks came racing past them with her backside aglow and Felynne on her heels, black smoking curling up from her flared nostrils.

7:00 am (Balance practice )

[ "Lord Merrik instructed us to use the straps" ] ,Alysia reminded him as Arameus climbed up and got to his feet on her back and settling into a comfortable stance, "Yes I know what he said, and if we were to take to the air, I would use them, but since we're to remain on the ground, the fear of a bruised backside will help me concentrate on keeping balanced", he stated. [ "Alright then, its your arse, not mine", she replied before taking off across the field.

8:00 am (agility practice)

Alysia sat with a smug look as Arameus sat in a tenderly fashion as this time Obsidian Nova instructed them on agility, once on their way to the woods, he made arrangements for her to take the lead and call out to him what we she was about to maneuver and he would sit accordingly. As they reached the woods, and since nothing had been said about not to, he had Alysia fly up so they both could get a birds eye view of the woods layout before diving down and joining the chase. Despite a few tree branches to the head, he managed to stay seated, due in part to his training and riding a Warhorse, as Alysia twisted and turned along the paths.

[b]10:00 am (flight training)

Feeling more at ease, he was able to relax more as Alysia lazily flew about, using the strong thermal up drafts moreso then her wings, though it still caused his belly to quiver, he forced himself to look ground ward, the view was incredible and through the breaks in the clouds he could almost see the entire expanse of the Kingdom. With a bit of encouragement, he convinced Alysia to do some simple aerial maneuvers in effort for him to get accustomed to the sensations that came with her diving and twisting till finally with the threat of losing his breakfast all over the back of her head did they return to a leisurely flight.

1:00 pm (swordmanship)

They were late in returning for lunch, not that he felt hungry or possibly keep anything he ate down after the improptu flying maneuvers. They landed just as the others were pairing off to spar when suddenly Sparks flew into a seeming rage and pummeled Lord Merrik as viciously as the blunted weapon would allow. For his part, Lord Merrik was doing extremely well in parring her attacks, but when words were beginning to be exchanged between the two, it was clear there was something far more personal in Sparks attacks that went far beyond simple sparring, and he considered stepping in between them least things got too personal, but to Lord Merriks credit, he dismissed Sparks ti her Dragon before he could hop down from Alysia.

3:00 pm (magic training)

Arameus folded his arms across his chest and listened as next Lord Merrik spoke of magic and mana, of all the aspects of the training this was going to be the hardest for him to learn. Since the time of his becoming a squire, he'd been taught that magic was a thing of witches and sorcerers, something to be used only by those with evil intent and not by honorable Knights such as himself. As the Black Dragon stepped forward and continued on, the whole ideal concerning mana seemed too far fetched for him and he looked at Alysia curiously, knowing his thoughts, she quickly spoke [ "It us truth, you received my mana as well when we bonded... but reading your thoughts and learning your feelings about magic, I hid its use from you, though you would of discovered it eventually, I was hoping for a time when you have a better understanding that magic in and of itself is neither good or evil, but its the intent of the person wielding it that makes it so. Just as the sword at your side can be used for either defending the innocent or slaying them were they stand... in your hands, the use of my mana will be but for good, or else you would not of been chosen by Lord Merrik, and then by me"] .

4:00 pm (study)

Arameus sat in his room and flipped through the book concerning magic and mana, Alysia had gone off to hunt, with a reminder to keep her eating thoughts to herself as he climbed the ladder to his loft. Once more he started from the beginning of the book still filled with doubt, after only halfway through the first chapter, he pushed the book aside and grabbed a more interesting looking book about the past tamers then settled down on the bed, which was a mistake, for it wasn't look his eyes fluttered closed and he dozed off, whencing in his sleep now and then when he put too much body wieght on his bruised left arse cheek.

Sunday afternoon (End of week one training)

The week had gone by in what seemed like the blink of an eye. There had be hardships, but that was expected. Some of the tamers took to their training better than others. Some had personal issues that were preventing them from excelling in the way he knew they could, others weren't taking things seriously and this bothered Merrik to no end. ”How could a person, knowing fully what lies in the future, refuse to take responsibility and step up to the plate in the duties?” he wondered to Obsidian Nova as he carried plates of food and dishware to the large stone table in the middle of the meadow. Nova carried a large basket in his mouth with the larger items that Merrik himself could not carry. As they reached the stone table he began laying out the bountiful dinner that had just been prepared. Like every other night, apart from the night of arrival, the entire party gathered for dinner. This was to encourage socializing between tamers and gave the dragons a chance to catch up and relax with their siblings as they lounged about the meadow while their tamers ate. Merrik felt it was important for the group to get used to each other and openly communicate. This would be crucial when the war began and the party was split off into groups to be assigned to different missions and tasks. Today he would open up the doors to assignments and explain the tamers first tasks.

”The bond is a powerful magic Merrik, it is indeed possible that the high of its power is altering the sensible sides of some of the drakes’ minds. Surely they were not raised to act in such ways. Nonetheless, we must focus on implementing disciplinary tactics as well as working to heal the tamers of their burdens, be they emotional, physical, or magical.” Obsidian Nova was referring to Irin’s problematic bond and the two of them made a note to assist him in his meditation this evening. Merrik also insisted on working with Yennifer on a more regular basis to improve her understanding of magic and anatomy; a healer would be crucial.

Once the meal was set out, Merrik took his place at the head of the table, his back to the stables in the distance, he had intentions of waiting for the rest of the group (they knew full well what time dinner was), but something in his conscience was itching. He rose and made his way back to the stables. He entered the halls and made his way to where Sparks’ quarters were, knocking on the frame of the entrance. ”I beg your pardon m’lady, but I’d request entry. May we speak?” He had been through a difficult week with Sparks but a part of him felt deeply for her and what she was going through.

~~~

As Merrik took his place at the table once more, he looked around at the group of unique individuals before him. Only a week had passed since they arrived and already their faces had taken a fond portion of Merrik’s mind and heart. He looked around the meadow at the dragons as they lumbered about in miscellaneous action and interaction. He smiled at the young scaled serpents, a sense of pride warming his being.

”You've all made great progress this week.” He said to the group as they ate and sipped their drinks. ”Some drifted through the training as if by second nature, others struggled with certain aspects, but you've all done well. I want to stress the importance of what we do here each day. Without our dedication and elite abilities, this land will most certainly fall to darkness. Families will be torn apart, lands ravaged and destroyed, all that we know and love will slip into the evil that seeps across these magnificent lands. It is our duty to protect Illos. We are the New Order; we are bound by our titles and by our bonds. Do not ever forget the weight of our responsibility.”

He paused to take a long gulp of sweet wine, a nearly non-alcoholic drink, as they had removed all alcohol from the property to remove the temptation from Sparks’ reach. ”Irin, this evening I’d like to work with you personally on your bond. Yennifer, I’d like to take some time to work with you on your healing magics as well if you wouldn’t mind. I shouldn't be more than an hour with either of you so you’ll still have your evenings to do as you please. Now, on another note, this week I will be assigning each of you a task to complete. Some will be done in groups, others alone. You are to consider these as real and as important as any mission I send you on during war. I need to get an idea of how seriously you will take your responsibilities. Some of your tasks will take a few days to complete, others will be a daily task of a few hours. When you are not working on these assignments you are to go throughout your day as normal; our training may be second priority to missions but it is a priority nonetheless and for your own sake, and for the sake of this army, you must remember this.”

”I beg your pardon m’lady, but I’d request entry. May we speak?”

Throughout the entire week, Sparks made little to no progress. She was terrified of going onto her dragon's back, her magic training still came up with nothing, and she even had to sit out on some of the agility training because she refused to receive yet another bruise on her head. But that wasn't the only issue - her attitude to the entire situation hadn't changed in the slightest, and not only was it wearing down on her, it was also wearing down on Felynne. The two argued often. Felynne herself became snappy and violent to her own brothers and sisters, and on the other side of the issue, there were at least two occasions where Sparks and Felynne kept well away from each other, despite the piercing loneliness that their bond gave them (Which worsened their mood tenfold), just to try and stop the onslaught of negative emotion they were feeding each other.

Sparks herself wasn't inclined to eat much, or anything at all. She was sharply ripped from her usual alcohol consumption, which wasn't healthy for any addict. Not only was this causing even further problems but she was usually paler than usual, being sick, shaking like a leaf, sweating...most of her study periods were spent with Sparks vomiting in a bucket, whilst Felynne moved off to the meadow with books to try and read them so at least -she- knew something.

And, of course, her attitude towards Merrick hadn't changed.

"Come in!" she hollered, flopping onto her bed wearily. Felynne was out hunting, any excuse to keep a distance from Sparks. Whilst Felynne's' part of the stables was neat, it's clear Sparks' mood seeped out into her own room - books thrown everywhere, tables and other furniture upturned, pieces of paper and old bread rolls strewn across the floor in a mix between a feeding frenzy and a temper tantrum. Sparks looked a wreck, as per usual. She needed a bath, new clothes, and a good stern talking to. Whilst the idea of a bath could be approached, and the 'talking to' was about to be given to her, her wardrobe is completely empty. She's been wearing the same ripped up outfit for a whole week, making her look even more like a tramp.

Two amber eyes focused on Merrick coldly as he walked in. "What do YOU want?" she snapped.

Merrik struggled not to scoff at the blunt rudeness she still pushed on his presence. "Am I bothering you? If you'd like I can leave. I don't wish to cause you any more discomfort. But if you would have it, I'd like to talk to you." Truth be told, he had been worried sick about her. Obsidian Nova was openly connected with each of the other dragons, and they to their tamers. Through the stress of Sparks' bond with Felynne, Obsidian Nova could feel the pains that seeped through their connection. And through Nova's emotions Merrik could fell the sorrow and the pain and the stress that plagued Sparks, and therefore her dragon. He was not so proud a man that he would deny his sympathy for others. The fact remained that Merrik cared deeply through each of the tamers through their dragons; he felt as if he had known them a fair time longer than what reality would show. Sparks' had struggled throughout the first week and though things looked dim at this time, he would not give up on her. He would not give up for he saw a great strength, hidden beneath deep emotional pains. More than any of the other tamers, he wanted to help her to live up to her potential. Not because he thought she would make a fine soldier, though that was a blessing nonetheless, but because something about her made him feel like she deserved it.

"Sparks, I have to ask you... What do you want?" A broad question, a strange one even. But all things came down to want and need, and he could not help her to achieve her desires until he knew what they were. He was done playing games with her; the situation between her and her dragon had reached a breaking point and if they continued down this road their bond would surely kill the both of them, be it by sorrow or pain.

Whilst Merrick was over with playing games, Sparks seemed to still have a bit of her usual, irritating self despite a week's worth of wear and tear on her personality. She pushed herself up a little, a coy grin playing on her lips, but a very bitter one. She glances around the wrecked room approvingly, and chose her answer; "What I want, is a drink." Sparks sat up, groaning just a little. "And some old clothes. These ones are ripped to hell. Oh, and a bucket, so I don't have to stagger past my freaking dragon each time I want to be sick."

Referring to Felynne as "her freaking dragon" is only a confirmation of how bad things have gotten, like a wound left to fester. The real question was - is their bond too infected to be saved? Sparks pulled her blanket over her shoulders, still shivering from wracking withdrawal pains. She took a deep, shuddering breath and, realizing that's probably not the answer Merrick wanted, decided to repeat what she said all those days ago, in the spar:

"I want to go home, Merrick. I'm a drunkard, and a tramp, and a beggar living on an eternal alcohol debt to fuel my own bar brawling income, which barely gets me a square meal each day. Despite what you want to think, I have no grasp on magic, I am not able to fly on my own dragon after a week, I -clearly- haven't 'bonded' with that sap at all, and I'm not worth anything. Shouldn't you be finding heroes to ride dragons into the sunset with? Why pick me, of all people? I'm expendable. Nobody should care about me this much, either, which is why I asked you what the hell you were doing here."

Sparks hunched over and into herself, keeping her face on Merrick. Her usual glare of hostility softened into a look of pure bewilderment, as if she didn't expect that sort of thing to slip out of her mouth. But clearly, she blamed Merrick for it, because she scowled at him and shifted her weight uneasily. "Besides," she muttered angrily, "Felynne shouldn't be stuck with a wreck like me."

The all to common furrow of Merrik's brow deepened as Sparks' spit her words at him in her usual way. He thought he was right when he assumed she would simple leave him with a snide remark and the threat of a swift kick to the groin. She seemed so lost, as if she had fallen to a dark place and could never truly be retrieved. But Merrik Tetra was not one to give up so easily. His caring personality and personal feelings for Sparks' and Felynne refused to let her break his effort. He was about to turn around and leave when he noticed a look on her face, a look of debate, and then she spoke. With each word she spoke he felt a sadness growing inside him again.

"It is strange, that you would title yourself as such. For I do not see a drunkard before me; I see a woman who's body trembles in proof of her defeat of her addiction. I do not see a tramp; I see a proud woman that none could step on. I do not see a woman living in debt; I see a Dragon Tamer. I see a woman with a sacred bond to a creature of legends, I see a woman who, despite many hardships and burdens that have befallen you in the last week, still stands before me. Still trying, still fighting. You say you have no grasp on magic, but I say you simply have not found a hold sturdy enough for a mind who's grip is as strong as yours. You say you cannot fly and take that as some kind of an offence but what you don't know is that it took my ancestor, Merrikhai Tetra, nearly 5 months to find his place on Cosmaur Sarpe's back. He went on to become the greatest legend in the history of the Order." He sat down slowly on the bed next to her, his eyes staring intently into hers.

"You say you have not bonded, and yet you are fully aware of Felynne. You have a connection with her that leads you to believe that she can do better. If you did not care, you would not take it to mind that she deserves better. Despite what you think, Felynne chose you and she knows everything about you. A dragon only chooses on person in the entire world to dwell with them in their soul. And Felynne chose you, and her decision was a good one for I did indeed go out seeking heroes. And before me, I see a hero. I see a powerful woman with all the makings of greatness. But those makings are shrouded in a pain that cannot allow your maximum potential to flourish. And whether or not you wish to believe my words, I will say them yet. You, are not expendable. You are not worthless, you are not weak, you are not a burden on your dragon. You are filled with potential that all but you can see. You have determination and strength to be envied by most. Felynne isn't stuck with you, she would do anything in her power to keep you near her. She would die for you, because she has seen into your soul and what she saw pleased her. So do not say that she deserves better, for it is an insult to her judge of character." Standing he walked to the other end of the room, leaning on the rail before turning to face her.

"So what the hell am I doing her? I'm here to tell you that I won't be giving up on you for it would be a great loss to this army and it would pain me personally to see a woman with such potential slip away into the gutter. I'm here I'm here to bring out a hero, one that sits before me in hiding. One worth more than all the gold and ale and want in the world. You are a dragon tamer. You are a legend now."

Sparks shifted restlessly under her blankets, watching Merrick like a hawk, listening to every single word he said. Her untrustworthy gaze turned rather quickly into one of disbelief, and she made sure to shuffle a little away from Merrick when he went to sit down next to her. She didn't show much of a reaction until Merrick said, with all the sincerity he could muster, that she wasn't expendable; at that point, her eyes widened in shock and she sat there, numb and speechless. She didn't move at all, even when Merrick got up and moved to the railing.

Whilst she didn't really get around to the 'speaking' part, she gave it a very good try to figure out some sort of snide remark to make it seem like this little chat did nothing to change her, but her face was an open book. Merrick would be able to clearly see that she hasn't had someone say something like that to her in decades, at the very least. Then her eyes narrowed and she looked away, muttering "Thanks." scathingly.

"Feels strange, having someone to care for you, doesn't it?" purred Felynne, drawing up to her fullest height to peer over at Sparks from her own stall. When she returned from hunting is indeterminable, but it's assured that she heard the whole thing. "Going to break down and cry a little?" she added slyly, a big grin on her lips, revealing the rows of ivory fangs.

Sparks picked up a ruined book from near-by, and hurled it at Felynne angrily. Of course, a book can't do anything against a dragon - Felynne caught it in her jaws and, with a jet of flames so hot they were white, reduced the valuable knowledge into ash in milliseconds.

"And I suppose you think all of that is true too?" snarled Sparks, rising up to her own height instead of sitting there on the bed, hunched up.

Felynne rolled her eyes. "Of course it's true, you idiot." she snapped, albeit not in frustration. "Despite what you want to think about it. You've done nothing but try to rip yourself to shreds ever since we arrived, and it's taking a lot out of me to stitch you back together again. Besides - and I'm sure you'll agree - Lord Merrick has a point."

"That...that you still think that I'm the only person in the entire world to bond with?" stammered Sparks uncertainly.

"No, that you're insulting my judge of character." replied Felynne, cocking her head to the side, smirking.

At that, Sparks stood up angrily, crossing the room in moments. She shoved up-turned furniture out of the way, slid books across the floor with her feet, rolled a bottle of nearly non-alcoholic wine that she smuggled from the feast across to Merrick's feet unintentionally, and stood face to face with Felynne, looking as if she'd kill the dragon.

But that doesn't happen - she just pressed her forehead against Felynne's, and shut her eyes. Almost instantly, that dark cloud of torment that hung over Sparks dissipated, and there was a distinct outburst of emotion from the two of them - something they didn't get the chance to do when they first bonded, as Sparks finally opened herself up to her dragon. Neither of them broke down crying, or laughed, they just stood there, Sparks with her fists clenched and Felynne glancing down at the top of a mass of dreadlocks pressed against her nose.

"Right," stated Sparks, her voice cracking with emotion - as soon as it did she glanced over at Merrick and blushed furiously, pointing at him threateningly. "Tell. No-one." she snarled. "I don't want them to think I'm soft." she added, after a moment's hesitation. Felynne watched with amusement as Sparks paced around her wrecked room for a few minutes, fixing her hair, trying to do anything to not look at Merrick. Then she span around again.

"First thing's first - You do NOT cut an addict off their addiction like that." she snapped. "I. Have been through. Hell. Just to try and fight this off. Didn't you know that you were supposed to wean someone off of their drink instead of stopping it altogether? You probably noticed that I've been trying to get those wine bottles all damn week, and even then it's only grape juice. I NEED a drink. Even if you kept brandy in your bedroom, I don't care, because if I get the shakes and the hallucinations on the back of Felynne, we're BOTH going to end up in trouble. Especially if she's in the air. I bet she can't do a dive maneuver yet, can she?"

Felynne looked at Sparks seriously for a moment, and Sparks slumped her shoulders, feeling Felynne's disapproval weighing on her back. "But don't-....Don't give it to me unless I need it, it's just....if I end up getting really bad. Only in case of emergencies." she mumbled regretfully. But at least she caught up with her own anger as she remembered what else she asked for. "And another thing! If you've got any old clothes, I'll take them. If you don't want me thinking I'm a tramp, you'd give me something else to wear - I've been wearing this ripped shirt over my boobs for a week and I'm constantly worried it's going to fall off."

"Don't forget the bucket," urged Felynne, finding the whole situation hilarious as she stifled a laugh. "AND THE BUCKET!" exploded Sparks, throwing her arms into the air, then hoisting the aforementioned shirt back up a little. "Who in their right mind wouldn't give an alcoholic a bucket?! Besides, you can carry things in it too! It's useful!"

With her little rant over, she looked over at Merrick expectantly. "Well?" she asked. "Bucket, clothes, booze. Simple enough, right?" From behind Sparks, Felynne glanced over at Merrick with a big grin on her face. She's still trying to keep in a laugh, but there's a grateful look in her eyes. Thank you, she mouthed silently to Merrick.

Merrik smiled as Sparks' true nature returned as she gruffly began barking out rules to him. "You have my word. Our private workings are of no concern to the others. Though I doubt anyone could ever mistake you for being soft" He furrowed his brow at the memory of the many times she had nearly damaged his manhood. No, she would never be a soft woman, she was a warrior inside and out. He listened to her continue on to lecture him on removing all her alcohol. For this he had no regrets; a woman with such will as hers needed drastic measures to make progress. He had no doubt that a seasoned alcoholic such as Sparks' could find the means to make even an ounce of liquor remain in her system for much too long. No, he had carried no intentions of letter her consume so much as a drop until he saw a definite change in her mindset. It wasn't her drinking that was the problem, he himself enjoyed the escape of a heavy drunk; the problem was her need for it and the reasons behind it. She did not simply enjoy drinking, she needed to do it. And until this moment, he knew that any brew offered to her would be used as an escape from facing her real inner struggles.

"I will not apologize for what I did. I know full well what it takes to wean an addict, but you are no weak minded, pathetic addict. No, you contorted your use to draw yourself into a well fortified fortress of seclusion within your mind. You needed to be ripped out of that fortress and held captive in the dungeons of sobriety until I could get through to you. You're too sly to be subjected to usual methods." He leaned down and slid his hand into his boot, retrieving a thing flask of pure, 60-year-old brandy. Laughing about her remarks about the usefulness of a bucket he straightened up.

"Here." He said tossing her the thing silver container."You'll get exactly 6 ounces a day, and no more. Make it work, and don't tell me you need more because I know better. I'll get you a bucket soon, but first, I want you to come join me at the dinner table. We'll eat and act as if we never had this conversation. Later tonight I want you to come with me to the manor. I'll explain more at dinner. We'll get you fresh clothes from the wardrobes there; you'll have a pick of some well made attire, perfect for training and everyday operations, so look forward to that."

A warmth entered into Merrik's heart. It was not the heat of victory, but the warming presence of comfort and relaxation of a portion of the strains in his mind. He hoped what had happened in this loft today had unlocked the true warrior with the dreadlocked woman that stood before him. "Now come, I have to return to the table to greet the rest of the tamers."

Obsidian Nova felt a rush explanation of the events that had occurred. Merrik had been too consumed by the happenings to regularly inform his dragon, but as he walked past his stall, the great black drake silently joined them, a warm smile, just hardly noticeable, tugged at his scaled lips. An aura of hope and positive aspirations filled the bonded space between him and his tamer.

Sparks reached up and grabbed the flask mid-air. She kind of tuned out for most of the conversation, but hearing scraps about heading up to the manor alone with a rich man kicked in a few little warning bells and she glanced up again, only to have her precious, precious liquid courage stolen from her by Felynne.

At that point, she really did punch her dragon, and damn-near broke her hand on the tough scales. Felynne hid the precious brandy. "You will get it when I know you're ready," she scolded, trying to shout over the incoherent yellings, whines, and curses of Sparks for getting her hope and joy snatched from her again. "Food first!" roared Felynne, loud enough to make Sparks stop complaining, her deadlocks billowing behind her at the force of the yell.

---

Sparks burst out of the stables, her mood visibly lighter and more upbeat than she was for the entire week. More importantly, she looked much less irritated with her dragon, who was prodding her in the back with a talon to get her to move towards the feast table. She took a seat between Tara and Arameus, grabbing the bottle of sweet wine by instinct, not even listening to Merrick. She gulped down a quarter of the bottle while he talked, her expression thoughtful, before putting it down on the table where her glass should be and glancing over at Arameus.

"See this?" she said bluntly, pointing at the wine bottle. "Merrick wants you to think he doesn't want his precious tamers with hangovers for training the next morning, but between you and me, he's a massive lightweight. I should know, we met in a bar." muttered Sparks, grinning mirthfully. "The name's Sparks. I need to get used to meeting you guys since I've been in a sulk all week. What's your name, then?" she asked. Whilst it wasn't exactly very polite, and her tone of voice was rough and hardened by years amongst the scum of society, she did sound generally warm, friendly and inviting.

Felynne glanced over at Sparks, and smiled just a little. Her elation and joy to see that Sparks is finally happier once again could be felt by her siblings, the other dragons, as she tumbled around and played with them, but she did not speak a word of the happenings within her stall.

Arameus shot up in a sitting position in the middle of the bed, his first thought was that he was about to endure another of Alysia's feeding frenzies, though not the largest of the Dragons, she had quite the voracious appetite. After only a moment he realised that it was the protesting hallowness of his own belly that he had awaken from a nap, he reached over and closed the book he had been reading concerning Dragon mana and magic then pushed himself up and off the bed, wincing slightly as his muscles ached with his movement. Whether it was the intense training of the first week, or the fact that he was no longer a young Squire, but he found himself suffering more aches and pains then he could remember from past training.

He gave Lord Merrik a polite nod upon seeing him in the hall in front of Sparks room, then quickly scampered down the ladder to Alysia's vacant stall before there was an answer to Lord Merrik's request to enter. Sparks near incessant cursing throughout the week had lead to some embarrassing questions by Alysia as to the meanings of some of the phrasing and choice of words that Sparks had howled during the training sessions and he didn't want to be within earshot of another round that was bound to come with Lord Merrik's entrance, nor try and explain anything new she might cuss to Alysia who now seemed to delight in making a point of listening to every foul word uttered and question him about.

~~~

Arameus noted the gravity of Lord Merrik's words as he spoke while they all sat and ate, the mans devotion to his cause seemed to mirror that of his own devotion to the Knights code and found a sense of kinship with the man, despite not having engaged him in any sort of lengthy conversation other then the night following the revealing of the Black Dragon. He perked up and listened intently as Lord Merrik went on to speak about assigning tasks to them all, eager for the chance to prove himself and Alysia's abilities. As he listened, he spotted the rolled parchment in front of his plate and took hold of it and read it carefully, his mind already forming a plan as he glanced up at both the Tamers Talisar and Rhyana to see if they had gotten similar parchment's.

His thoughts were interuppted by movement on his right side and he turned to look, only to advert his eyes quickly at the flash of naked side boob revealed by the tattered remains of garment that the Tamer Sparks had refused to change from for the entire week. He was then taken aback by her unexpected turn of mood and regarded her with a perked brow as she spoke,

"See this?,Merrick wants you to think he doesn't want his precious tamers with hangovers for training the next morning, but between you and me, he's a massive lightweight. I should know, we met in a bar, The name's Sparks. I need to get used to meeting you guys since I've been in a sulk all week. What's your name, then?"

Arameus looked at her suspiciously, though slightly boisterous and rough, it seemed she was making an attempt at being friendly, which given her mood for the past week, caused him to wonder what had been said between her and Lord Merrik that had caused the changed, he looked at the bottle she was holding up for him to see, then replied,

"Given your manners, choice of language and demands for drink, there's little reason to think you met him anywhere else but a Tavern", realising that might of sounded abit harsh, he softened his expression and offered a warm smile, not wanting to be the one that caused her to slip back into her fowl mood,"But I make a poor jest at your expense, forgive me M'Lady, I'm Arameus and tis a pleasure to met you, and if I may be so bold as to say, I was quite impressed with your ability to handle a sword, with a bit more technique and balance added to your raw power, I would wager you could of bested his Lordship, but then again we're not here to fight amongst ourselves are we?...so what manner of task have you been given, if I may ask?".

3:00 PM (Magic Training)

Irin marveled at Merrik's little magic show, oohing as the tendrils of flame and shadow shot into the air. Merrik then provided them with their first task: to create a flame and to twist it at will. Irin thought for a minute. He was right handed, meaning that in battle his right hand would be occupied with his sword. Therefore, he'd want to use magic with his left hand. Fingers folded, but palm wide open, he stuck his hand out and thought about fire. Symbol of life, bringer of death and destruction, power in its physical form. Smoke began to slither out of his palm, which, being as unnatural as it was, completely surprised him and caused him to lose focus, the smoke quickly vanishing. Regathering his senses, he stared at his palm, feeling it with his other hand. If this were any other circumstance, he would have convinced himself he was just seeing things. He took a few deep breaths, and held his palm out again. Feeding off of energy found in the air around it, it is a producer of light and heat. It is power, and as such, requires caution to control. A flare of light shot out of his hand, and quickly vanished, leaving a steady candle flame levitating above his hand. Fire.... fire... That is fire. But what moves fire? He paused for a second, and the flame faltered, but he quickly regained focus and the flame became steady again. Air. air directs fire. Air... energy and force in a state of dormancy. Only when it becomes wind does it awaken itself. But that is not all it does. It has the life in it to keep everything alive. Without air... nothing would survive. Not even fire. He cupped his other hand, and held it in front of the flame. The flame danced and flickered, leaning away from his right hand. He moved his right hand underneath his left, and made a circular motion with it. The flame writhed and twisted, slowly forming the twisted shape of a corkscrew. Irin breathed heavily with concentration, but a grin appeared on his face as he marveled at what he had just done. He had performed a miracle of miracles...

Magic.

As Merrik wandered about the group as they discovered magic for the first time he kept keen eyes out for anything that may have appeared dangerous or unusual. Magic came in all sorts of forms as a result of variation in thought processes and will. He saw a variety of different approaches to the simple task of creating a flame, but as he passed by Irin and Uram he couldn't help but furrow his brow at what he saw. There was a flame before the man no doubt, but it twisted and wove about in a way that was unnatural of fire. It was if it was it was being pulled up into a small tornado of air. This was enough to bring about Merrik's protest.

"Irin, could you halt your workings for a moment?" He made his way over to the man and his silvery dragon, nodding politely to Uram as he always did in the presence of a lady. "I wonder if you could explain to me the process behind your manipulation of the flame. If you cannot put it into words, I'd like for you to feel it and open your mind to Uram that she might work as a vessel to help me understand."

Irin released his mind from its concentration and the fire vanished instantly. He shifted his gaze over to Merrik and responded to him. "I'm manipulating the fire by controlling the uh... I don't really know. He turned his head so that his gaze was on Uram, who acknowledged his silent request, and conveyed his thoughts through to Merrik. Partway through, she faltered, as she realized just what the issue was.

Oh, uh, Master Merrik, I believe I see the problem. He's using wind magic to manipulate the fire as opposed to just fire. My apologies, I must have mixed my thoughts a bit when giving him the necessary knowledge.

His thoughts now confirmed by the presence of wind magic, Merrik lifted his hand to his chin in a thoughtful manner. He knew the flame wasn't right in the sense that it did not behave in the way fire would naturally behave; he knew there was something off about the manipulation, yet he didn't expect Irin to be harnessing wind magic to manipulate the flame. This meant he did indeed understand fire to some extent to have created the flame at all, but his bonded instinct had shifted in wind magic to flesh out the idea of how the fire would move. "Hmm, this I did not expect. I hadn't planned on introducing your specific elemental magicks until a strong understanding of basic fire magick was grasped. You certainly have the basics, your flame was strong and very much alive. But it seems Uram's air-prone instincts were portrayed. I know you've long used wind to manipulate your flames Uram but we do need to get Irin to focus on and understand the fire magicks before anything. Though, seeing as you've picked up on Uram's instincts rather quickly, I think it might be best that we get you started on your elemental magic sooner than planned."

He paused for a moment and turned his head to where Obsidian Nova lay watching, his attention was perked at the strange use of magic just as Merrik's had been. For a few moments he simply stared at the dragon, obviously locked in unspoken conversation with his bonded drake, but eventually turned back and spoke to the pair before him. "It's settled then. If you can prove to me that you can fully grasp fire magick, I'll start you on wind magick. Take your time; if you're going to be using flames at all I expect you to have a full understanding of them just like everyone else. Work hard and quickly and soon enough you'll be expanding this new instinct to contort the wind. You may go on to do great things; wind magic users can be very powerful, and it's not uncommon that Atmosphere Dragon tamers of the past have gone on to control even the most disastrous tornadoes, twisting the wind in a nature not unlike their own breathing. But promise me, we take this slow. Magick is dangerous, no matter how natural it is to you."

Irin nodded at Merrik's statements, a look of surprise on his face. Magic was not something he would have thought he'd be good at, but then... how would he know? Barely a few days ago, he would have laughed at the whole concept of magic. Yet here he was, apparently with natural talent, too.

Holding his left palm up and open, with the fingers folded, he stared intensively at it again. Fire... he thought about it hard until a flame appeared levitating over his palm.

Fire is a representation of life, but life doesn't just bend to the will of what's around it, it has its own will. It hungers, it eats, it grows, it dies. But it follows its food, like a wolf follows a deer. Fire feeds off of fuel, and this flames fuel is my magic. The focal point of my magic is what it burns off of. If I move or change the shape of the focal point, the fire will obey. He shifted his magic slowly left and then right on his palm, and the flame followed. He then moved his magic in a small circle, clockwise, then counterclockwise, and the flame did likewise. Then Irin intensified his concentration as he attempted to turn the focal point into a shape. A short bar shape. The flame widened, as though it obtained more fuel to feed off of. Irin's brow furrowed, and the right side of his lip was twitching from concentration as he made the fire rotate about its center. The fire dimmed briefly and then began to rotate and twist about the center. The speed at which it rotated was inconsistent at first, but it soon came to maintain a steady speed, slowly increasing as Irin put more and more effort into it.

Merrik watched as Irin tackled the concept of fire once more, this time with a refreshed understanding of the element thanks to Uram. He watched Irin concentrate and begin to understand the true natural working of the flame and slowly begin to contort it to his will. "Yes! You're understanding fire's true nature now." He circled around the pair, observing their actions. "It won't be long before you have a strong base of understanding for the use of mana. I figure by next week we'll get you working on implementing wind magic into your pool of ability...How's your mind training coming? Do you think you're nearly ready for your first round of lucid meditation?"

Irin felt proud when Merrik praised him, but the pride was replaced with embarrassment when Merrik mentioned the lucid meditation. "I... suppose so. But I'll have you know that I could not study that journal, for..." He stared down at his feet. "I... can barely read at all. I could read bits and pieces of it, but it was difficult enough to read a couple sentences. I don't think I could read a whole page, much less a whole journal."

Shock was Merrik's first reaction; he often forgot about the lack of necessity for people to learn to read and write. But a moment later he settled his surprise and nodded in understanding. "My apologies, I often forget that reading and writing are of little use to many folk in these parts. In my life, and the duties I've been assigned, I could not go a day without these crucial skills. You must know, this cannot go on forever. You'll have countless hours of studying to be done; you will be taught to read. A Dragon Tamer stands above nobility in social stature. Not because we seek out standing, but because our work requires high skill in many areas. Yennifer, you've met her I assume? She's got a keen mind for teaching and she is a highly literate woman. I'll work with you personally as much as I can but when I cannot, she will help you until you learn to decipher our unusual language. We'll begin tonight, come and meet me in my chambers if you would. By the end of the week I expect we'll have worked through a number of journals and hopefully, after reading past tamers' experiences with this ailment and after you've spent at least 10 hours in meditation, we'll concoct the potion and send you into the land of Uram's soul.

In the mean time, I expect you to work on focus on improving your understanding of fire magick. When you can convince me you've mastered the concept, I'll begin working with you and Uram in expanding your experience with wind magicks."

Irin nodded at Merrik's request, "Yessir." He said, and he held his hand back out in front of him, and created another flame, concentrating on the finer properties of the flame.

"Given your manners, choice of language and demands for drink, there's little reason to think you met him anywhere else but a tavern."

Sparked raised an eyebrow, before bursting into a laughter so loud that it briefly overwhelmed the chatter around the feast table. She leant back in her chair, shaking her head, and giving Arameus a toothy grin. "I like you. You're funny." she said, trying to give him a hearty and slightly painful slap on the back.

"But I make a poor jest at your expense, forgive me M'Lady, I'm Arameus and 'tis a pleasure to met you, and if I may be so bold as to say, I was quite impressed with your ability to handle a sword, with a bit more technique and balance added to your raw power, I would wager you could of bested his Lordship, but then again we're not here to fight amongst ourselves are we?...so what manner of task have you been given, if I may ask?"

"M'lady?" spluttered Sparks, practically choking on the sweet wine she started guzzling between one sentence and the next. "Arameus, I am no lady. I'm a woman, yeah, but I'm not a lady. You and Merrick, goodness...I'm sure you can flatter all the other birds on this table but I just find it irritating. I'm sure a couple of them swoon over gentlemen, at least." snickered Sparks, glancing down the table at the women in particular. She wipes a bit of wine off the side of her mouth with her knuckles, giving Arameus her undivided attention the moment he makes a comment about her sword skills.

"I find it amusing that people call Merrick a lord. Anyways, thanks for the compliment." she grunted, hoisting up the aforementioned boob rag to cover her decency just a little more. "And I have all the technique in the world - he's just flighty and avoided a kick to the manhood, which means he's scared of having his manliness tested. I'd put him down as a 'crumple up in pain' kind of guy. There used to be a man who wandered around Freya who could take several and not even stop to think about it. Mind you, I think all the tattoo ink made him completely numb."

Sparks reached for the wine bottle, but then hesitated. Her expression became one of grim determination as she stood up and hurled it as far away from her as possible - Felynne picked up the bottle grudgingly, as to not cover the meadow with litter. Sparks glared at Merrick with as much hatred as she could possibly muster, waited until he was looking at her, and jerked a thumb to the now-empty spot where her drink was. Hopefully, it wouldn't have taken him that long to look at her - after all, she did just stand up and lob a glass bottle away for no apparent reason.

Somewhat pleased that particular little episode was over, she returned to her conversation as if nothing happened, the only explanation she gave is "I think I would've bested the poncy sap if he didn't decide to give me a shove like a temperamental child and fly off on his dragon. But, haha, just you wait; I will personally kick his arse one day. 'not here to fight amongst ourselves' indeed."

"As for a task, I, uh..." Sparks trailed off, looking around her seat for a roll of parchment. "...Was apparently too good for one..." she manages uncertainly as she glances around the table at everyone else's parchment, wondering if one of them had two. "...So clearly I'm up for some very important task." finished Sparks, with not nearly as much confidence as she had before.

No parchment. No task. Merrick didn't even trust her and her dragon enough to give her a mission. Sparks suddenly regretted throwing away the wine behind her, she just found a much better target; Merrick's chair looked easy enough to fire a breadroll at without anyone looking, right? She folded her arms, scowling. "-Way- too important to have written down on parchment, Arameus. Don't worry about that." she muttered sulkily, turning her attention to Tara. "Did you get two rolls of parchment or something?" asked Sparks hopefully; perhaps there was still a chance.

Tara had been busier this past week than she had been for years and she was very glad for it. Between training, flying, studying and spending time immersed in Zarketh's mind she hadn't had time to wallow in her own thoughts and guilt like she spent most of her time over the last five years doing. Merrick's talk of evil brought back things she had been gladly distancing herself from though, memories of her home and people she had lost. She didn't need to be told what would happen if Ogual went unchecked, she had seen it herself. She wouldn't forget her responsibility, and she wouldn't fail it this time either.

Tara was relieved to see Sparks, as she introduced herself, in a better mood. Perhaps she would progress more in her training and attitude now. Tara was used to working by herself, relying on herself. It had been 15 years since she had fought in a unit and she knew that their success and her life would be dependent on the skills of her fellow tamers and how well they worked together. So the inexperience and lack of dedication of some of them made her uneasy. But she was enjoying the company, although she hadn't got to know any of them very well or spent much time socialising. It was nice just to have people around. She took the parchment Merrick handed out and read it as Sparks and Arameus talked. She frowned as she read; she wasn't a builder, her father had been a carpenter and she had worked with him as a child but she had joined the army because she didn't enjoy it. Not exactly a first mission suited to her skills, but that wouldn't be enough to deter her.

She put the parchment down just as Sparks turned to address her. “No, sorry.” She replied then added with a friendly smile, “My name's Tara, if you hadn't already caught it. Nice to meet you properly.”