An hour before dawn, most of Caerel was still asleep, safe in their homes and dreaming of better days. Even Draketooth mountain was quiet, the earliest of risers just starting to stir in their caves. There was a streak of purple and green in the dim predawn light as a flitwit soared up on feathered wings, reversing course and plunging back into the leafy canopy with a low whistle. As sleepy hands began to stoke the fires on the lower levels and wake the kitchens up bit by bit, there was one lamp burning brightly on the upper council floors.

Of course, it wasn’t a question of being an early riser—Sergeant Keltor had simply been awake all night. 

Choosing a team for a mission of this nature was a delicate process, to say the least. She couldn’t pick fresh-faced greenhorns, but neither could she take the most seasoned riders away from the island in a time of need. They had to be good, but not absolutely vital to the dragonriders—and above all, they had to want to help. There was no room for anything but dedication on a trip like this—their success might well hinge on the devotion of these riders. So she chose carefully—riders she’d seen in action, whether or not they were aware of her scrutiny, and none of them were the privileged type who bonded with a dragon just to uphold a family legacy, or tried once and gave up. No, these were riders to the core, and that was exactly what she needed.

Anara sighed, dropping her quill and kneading the bridge of her nose. She leaned back from the desk with a jaw-cracking yawn, and after one more glance at the list in front of her, she stood abruptly. No more stalling—she’d chosen well, she hoped, and worrying over a name or two wouldn’t help. The summons, written in her usual concise style, had already been sent out yesterday morning, courtesy of one of the smaller flitwits, to the selected riders—[i]If willing, come to the lesser council chamber soon after sunrise, packed for a long journey. Sarge Keltor.[/i] She’d left the reasons deliberately vague—she [i]really[/i] didn’t need word getting out ahead of time—but she hoped her chosen few would be curious enough to investigate.

She could sense Inirath stirring as she strode to the outer door and made a quick detour, taking the short passage to the outermost and largest room of her suite. It was a large cavern, with one side open to the mountainside, cold winds occasionally gusting in. It was quite warm inside, however, because most of the room was taken up by the shining silver bulk of a dragon.

Anara could feel her hair crackling with static as she approached her partner, and when she reached the great head—almost as large as she was—one gleaming eye opened to watch her. A sense of sleepy contentment rolled over her, and it was only long practice that kept Anara from yawning again in response. She scratched a favorite spot behind an eye ridge and Inirath huffed, hot air blowing Anara’s hair from her face.

“Lazy beast,” the councilor muttered, but she couldn’t quite keep the smile from her face as she got a distinct sense of acceptance from the dragon. She stepped back as Inirath stretched, claws grinding and throwing up sparks as she extended to her full length and settled back down, expansive wings fluttering every so slightly. Simply by habit, Anara glanced over to the pegs carved straight from the stone and the leather riding harness that hung from it, idly checking each connection. Inirath caught the direction of her thoughts and both eyes opened, her head raising slightly off her forepaws in anticipation of a ride.

“Not yet, girl,” Anara said absentmindedly, stroking a hand over the dragon’s oddly warm, steel-smooth nose. “Later. Soon. Have to get the others first.” Her dragon huffed again, this time in irritation, and went back to the important business of sleeping through the entire day. 

Anara snorted, and with one last scratch at the base of the horns, resumed her roundabout path to the council chambers. She intended to be the last one there—if she arrived to a brawl, well, at least she’d know ahead of time that there would be issues. 

Now...well, it was up to the riders whether or not to show.