Vivid green eyes opened slowly beneath the hanging fabric of a plainly colored cowl. From her vantage point wedged between two cliffs, Freija could see the domain of the Windsinger spread out before her. She had been here for fourty-one days now, if she remembered correctly (and she was sure that she did). Moving stiff fore-claws, she wedged them into the cliff sides and pulled herself upwards into the open air above. The sky was a clear, deep blue of summer that was unbroken by clouds. The constant wind of her homeland buffeted her gently as she rose, a comfort after weeks of stillness.

She stretched long-unused muscles and turned her head to survey herself for any changes that her body may have experienced. A deep rumble of content rippled through her belly as she looked at her wings, now marked with the runes of a shaman. She stretched them experimentally and the runes sparkled in the light from the sun, sending dancing light across the cliffs around her. She would be the youngest shaman that any lair near her home had seen in hundreds of years.

Her mentor had warned her that this could cause problems if she were to decide to return after her journey. There were dragons who could not bring themselves to respect someone as a Voice of the clan when they had known them as a hatchling. Freija shook her head at this thought, banishing it from her mind. During her long meditation she had decided that she would not return home, making this line of thought invalid. Instead, she rose up on her hind legs and looked down across the Zephyr Steppes where the newer, smaller clans of the Windsinger would be. That was where she was called to go.

Launching herself into the air, she spread her wings and delighted at the feel of wind racing across her body as she flew down toward the steppes below. Her bright mane rippled along her back and she held her mouth open in ecstasy while cool, fresh air filled her lungs. The antlers that had sprouted from her head as a hatchling were long now, with many points to them and her cowl beat back against them as she flew onward.

For two days, Freija kept herself to the air, though she was famished from her recent fasting. As she looked down upon the land below, she let a momentary worry that she would not find what she was looking for fleet across her mind before dismissing it. As she flew on, toward the edges of the lands held by the Wind dragons, she searched.

Eventually, the Sea of a Thousand Currents came into view on the horizon, but she did not stop her gentle glide. Instead, she kept her eyes on the ground, searching fiercely for that which she sought below. Finally, a glint caught her eye and she honed in on what she found to be a solitary dragon below. His coloring was something that she had never seen before and his shimmering blue wings almost sparkled in the sun as he lumbered back and forth.

Reaching out, she sent a tentative call to him with her mind and was answered almost immediately.

Who flies? came the formal query.

It is Freija, a dragon looking for nourishment. May I join you?

As he gave his permission for her company, Freija began looping in large spirals, slowly descending through the air. As she landed, she took a closer look at this strange dragon that had chosen to make his home at the edges of her homeland. He was not of the Windsinger, for his eyes shone a deeper green than her own, and he had been hurt recently, for fresh scars marked his forearm.

Who are you? they both questioned at the same time and both chuckled shyly before Freija decided to answer first.

My name is Freija and I come from a clan that lives in the Cloudsong. I have left my home to find a new clan and act as shaman for them. I have been meditating on this for a long time. As she said this, she spread her wings slightly so that he could see the runes marked across them now. She was afraid that this curious creature would claim that she was lying simply because she was so young to be a shaman. Instead, he cocked his head to the side and studied her for long moments, until she fidgeted uncomfortably under his gaze.

Finally, he responded to her and his deep voice resonated in her mind, I am Chatzkel of the Gladeveins in the Gladekeeper’s domain. I have come here to make a home.

The simpleness of his answer took her by surprise and she blinked at him before remembering to collect herself. It was not her right to push him for answers, though she was curious. In time, she would learn more about this reserved dragon that had traveled so far from his kin and deity.

May I join you, Chatzkel?

Yes, he responded simply before pushing a half-eaten carcass toward her. With a happy mind, Freija descended upon the meal with a viciousness that made Chatzkel chuckle as he sat back on his haunches next to her.