Burnt gunpowder and Petrichor sweet

1.Dragon and Rider.

Cujrim is the very idea of growth. A growth of body and spirit, it's true, but most importantly, a growth in numbers.

Every year, when the world gives up on the last few specks of warmth to the ruthless winter, the Cujrim festival is born. And with it, a new batch of dragon eggs hatches, for which new riders must be chosen.

The week before the festival, a series of trials is held for anyone of age or above who'd like to try their luck at being a drake chosen. For the spawn of Eldon are not like their Altean cousins, their power calls for power, and they'll accept only those who've proven themselves worthy.

This is why Cujrim has always meant growth.

Nico has always been curious on the children Nita, born in the brink of summer, calling for quintessence to match their own. But his mother didn't leave Altea guiltless, so wonder is all Nico could do.

He's not the only one with Altean blood in this year's chosen, but unlike him nobody knows about Nico's mixed blood. It's the reason they took the trials at the same time, even though he's one year older, and even though he wins the competition with ease.

It's been only two years since Nico discovered this similarity between them, and, in turn, two years since he's been watching him like this.

Now though, there's something much grander than the omega grabbing his attention. The large clutch of tannish brown eggs.

Particularly, the biggest two of the clutch, one paler than the rest, a color closer to pink than brown, the other a beautiful reddish brown.

He keeps an eye for the pair as the other eggs hatch, first the male drakes, then the females, each stalking their party, reading their minds to find a worthy match. It's an extremely odd sensation, the prodding of dozens of drakes in his head.

And then the last two eggs, the ones Nico had been eyeing, finally hatch.

From the palest egg, emerges a large drake with scales tinted in sunset golds, glistening brightly, and from the reddish-brown egg emerges a drake covered in deep sable black scales, seeming to absorb the light.

The two drakes face each other, and then the male of the two takes a step forwards, sulfuric yellow eyes scanning the remaining crowd and then swooping towards him. Nico would watch, but a sharp tug in his head has him once again facing the black drake, it strides gallantly towards the group and stops before him, glowing purple eyes on level with his own.

'Mine' her voice rings in his head.

Nico reaches out, and meets her call head on.

He feels the deepest cold of winter climbing along his veins and settling there, to stay for as long as he'll be tied to her, for the rest of their shared lives.

There's meaning to the fact that she was born in tandem with another drake, he knows, but for now it's just the two of them, the way all first connections should always be.

The next day all those who were picked by a drake have to present themselves to Nyx, this century's Vortex drake and direct descendant to Eldon. She's a surprisingly small drake, scales a deep purplish black with speckles of every color all over, making her look like a galaxy.

Nyx is a feral drake, as every other Vortex drake has ever been, only attended by the strongest of their draconids. She levels them both with a severe look, and speaks directly into his mind.

'Welcome one who was chosen by darkness'

She opens her wings, the underside an iridescent white, casting rainbow light onto them, Nico's drake shuffles in place. And Nico himself feels as though irked by the unnatural light.

Still, he takes a knee respectfully, and is pleased when his drake bows with him. Nyx makes a low-pitched melodic sound at this, and her eyes seem to soften.

'You may now choose a name for your partner; may it be the final link to your connection'

Nico breathes deeply, shifting to face his drake, still kneeling on the ground, like this she towers over him, the way she always will in the future. He looks into her glowing purple eyes and sable black scales, and thinks of only one thing fitting.

"Abyss"

There's meaning to the fact that Blue was born in tandem with another, in tandem with Red specifically, but Lance can't acknowledge it yet. Not when he's struggling so much to keep up.

He's grateful to Admiral Valdez for the door he opened, and grateful to Duchess Luxia for the opportunity to join the naval forces. He truly is.

But gratefulness does not equal talent, and in that area, Lance finds himself lacking.

A breeze from the coast has him shivering, Blue's connection to him is made with white ice, beautiful and cold. And fragile.

It eats at him, that knowledge, the fact that he's failed at the most natural part of it all, at connecting with the dragon that had chosen him. That's also part of why he can't be poking at his other connection.

How is he supposed to tame the wild heat in the back of his head, to be a tether, if he can't even handle his own ice?

How is he to connect with anyone, if he can't even connect properly with Blue?

A warning hiss takes him out of his thoughts, and he turns to Blue, glaring at him. having gotten his attention, the drake makes a whistling sound with its gills and lowers her head, moving her snout until it presses against his chest.

'Mine'

It's the sound of water drops falling into stone, gentle and constant, less of a claim and more of a plead. It fills his lungs and tightens his throat, and he crumbles into her.

The bond between them flares, hailstorm wind that brushes against his core, changing him like a river changes the earth, but much sharper, much deeper.

And, for the first time, Lance meets the cold head on.

'Finally'

Everything clears, the Ice turning a beautiful transparence, hued in gentle blue. And he knows, it's something much stronger, pure quintessence, solidified.

"I'm so sorry Blue"

Blue simply trills at him, a sound akin to the little glass windchimes his family hung out in the summer. Lance laughs.

"Thank you"

'Always'