The silence in the rookery after his mother's departure was heavier than a dragon in flight. Aiden stood frozen, the Queen's words echoing in his ears. Lead them. The idea was so absurd it was almost funny. He couldn't even lead them to clean a room without it ending in a small fire or a flood.
"Well," Nimbus rumbled, breaking the silence. "This is an unexpected development. I approve. It will be much more entertaining to watch you fail with an audience."
"Thank you, Nimbus. Your support is, as always, overwhelming," Aiden muttered, rubbing his temples where a headache was beginning to bloom.
"So, where do we get the sandwiches?" Rina asked, her practicality cutting through his despair. "And the bandages! And should I pack extra socks? I hear it gets very cold in the Spine Mountains. My toes get all puffy when they're cold."
Aiden stared at her. She was already planning, already thinking about logistics. He looked at the empty doorway where his mother had been, then at the determined, hopeful face of the maid in front of him. He was trapped. Utterly and completely trapped.
"Right," he said, his voice flat with defeat. "Okay. Rina, here's what you're going to do. You're going to find the others."
Rina's face lit up. "Ooh! A mission! I can do that!"
"Tell them to meet me at the old armory on the south wall in one hour," Aiden instructed, his mind already shifting into a reluctant, tactical mode. "And Rina? Try to be... discreet."
Finding the other four maids was like herding a different species of magical cat in each direction of the castle.
Rina found Talia in the training yard, her sword a silver blur as she sliced through a training dummy. "Aiden's going to the Spine Mountains to fight the poachers," Rina panted, skidding to a halt. "The Queen said you have to go with him."
Talia stopped, her chest heaving. She wiped a bead of sweat from her brow with the back of her glove. "He's what? That idiot. He'll get himself killed in five minutes." She snorted, but there was a flicker of something else in her eyes—a warrior's interest. "Fine. But I'm not going to hold his hand when he cries."
She found Lyra in the gardens, kneeling by the rosebushes, her expression vacant and sad. "Aiden needs you," Rina said softly.
Lyra's head snapped up, the sadness instantly replaced by a burning, fanatical light. "Aiden? Where is he? Is he in danger?"
"He's going to the Spine Mountains. We're all going with him."
A slow, serene smile spread across Lyra's face. "Of course. Where he goes, I go. I will be his shield."
Rina shivered and moved on.
She found Eira in the library, not dusting, but standing before a massive, open tome, her eyes closed as if listening to the book. "Eira? We have to go. Aiden's mission is a go."
Eira's eyes opened, their pale green depths calm and knowing. "The variables have converged. The path is set. My presence is required to ensure the most favorable outcome. I will be there."
Finally, Rina found Seraphine in a small, forgotten chapel, the morning light filtering through a stained-glass window, painting her silver hair in rainbow colors. She wasn't praying, just... observing the dust motes dance in the light.
"The Queen has given her approval," Rina announced, feeling a little braver now. "We leave within the hour."
Seraphine turned, a faint, knowing smile on her lips. "Did she now? The Queen plays a longer game than most. Very well. It seems my investment is about to yield a return. Tell the prince I will be... delighted to join his little expedition."
One hour later, Aiden stood in the dusty, forgotten armory, feeling like a ringmaster at a circus he never wanted to run. The maids arrived, one by one.
Talia was first, clad in her own worn but practical leather armor, a sword on her hip and a bow slung over her shoulder. She looked every bit the dragon rider.
Lyra arrived next, wearing simple, sturdy traveling clothes. She carried no weapons, but her devotion was a more formidable armament than any sword. She stood silently, her eyes fixed on Aiden.
Eira followed, holding a gnarled staff and wearing a belt laden with pouches that hummed with latent magic. She looked like she was about to conduct an alchemical experiment, not go on a journey.
Then came Seraphine. She had somehow acquired a set of dark, form-fitting travel leathers that looked more expensive than Aiden's entire wardrobe. She moved with a predatory grace, a small, sharp dagger tucked into her boot. She looked less like a maid and more like an assassin queen.
And finally, Rina. She stumbled in, wearing a borrowed cloak that was two sizes too big for her, a backpack lopsided on her shoulders, and brandishing a large basket. "I packed the sandwiches!" she announced proudly, tripping over the hem of her cloak and nearly sending the basket flying.
Aiden looked at his "squadron." The tsundere warrior, the yandere devotee, the stoic mage, the vampire noble, and the walking disaster. They were a chaotic, mismatched, and frankly terrifying group.
He let out a long, slow breath. "This," he said to the room at large, "is a nightmare."
"A nightmare with sandwiches," Rina corrected cheerfully.
"Let's just go," Aiden sighed, leading them out of the armory and towards the rookery.
As they walked, Nimbus's voice rumbled in his mind. I hope you plan on reinforcing the saddle. I am not a public transport service.
"Shut up, Nimbus," Aiden muttered under his breath.
He looked at the five women following him, a strange, unwelcome feeling bubbling up in his chest. It wasn't just dread. It was something else. A twisted, chaotic sense of... responsibility.
He was leading them. And he had a sinking, terrifying feeling that he was about to become far more attached to his magical misfits than he ever intended to.
The walk to the rookery was a procession of absurdity. Aiden led, his shoulders slumped in defeat. Behind him, his "squadron" followed, a collection of clashing armors, mystical auras, and one very oversized cloak.
Nimbus was waiting for them, his great black head lowered. His golden eyes swept over the group, and a low, gravelly chuckle echoed in Aiden's mind. *An entourage. How lovely. I hope they don't all expect to be carried.*
"They're not all riding," Aiden muttered aloud. "Just Talia."
He turned to the fiery-haired dragon rider. "You're up. You know the route better than I do."
Talia's lips curled into a smirk of pure, unadulterated glee. She loved being in control. "Gladly. Try not to fall off, Your Highness." She took the saddle's primary reins from Aiden, her movements confident and sure. She handled Nimbus not like a beast, but like an extension of her own will, her hands firm yet gentle on the straps. The dragon rumbled his approval.
The others stared. Rina looked from the immense dragon to Talia, her eyes wide with a mixture of terror and awe. Lyra's gaze was fixed solely on Aiden, her expression one of deep concern for his safety, as if he were embarking on a suicide mission. Eira was observing the dragon's scales, her head tilted, as if reading the weather patterns in their patterns. Seraphine simply looked bored, as if this were a tedious but necessary step in a much larger plan.
"Climb on," Talia ordered, her voice all business. "Rina, you're behind me. Hold on to my waist. Don't you dare let go. Aiden, you're behind her. Lyra, you're behind Aiden. Eira, Seraphine, you two take the rear. And for the love of all that's holy, don't lean."
Getting five people onto a dragon saddle designed for one or two was a clumsy, undignified process. There was a lot of shoving, elbowing, and Rina squeaking as she was sandwiched between a hardened warrior and a brooding prince. Aiden found himself pressed uncomfortably close to Rina, with Lyra's hands resting firmly on his shoulders, a possessive, grounding weight that felt both protective and suffocating.
"Hold on!" Talia yelled.
With a powerful lurch that sent Rina yelping, Nimbus pushed off the stone floor. His wings beat the air, once, twice, and they were rising, soaring through the large opening at the top of the rookery and into the vast, open sky.
The castle shrank below them, the intricate gardens becoming a colorful carpet, the people scurrying like ants. Aiden had flown a hundred times, but this was different. This was crowded, chaotic, and... surprisingly exhilarating.
They flew north, leaving the familiar lands of the kingdom behind. The world unfolded beneath them like a magnificent, living tapestry. They soared over endless emerald forests where herds of deer scattered like leaves in the wind. They crossed rivers that shimmered like silver threads, so high up that the waterfalls looked like strands of white lace. The sun was warm on their faces, and for a while, there was only the sound of the wind and the rhythmic beat of Nimbus's mighty wings.
Rina, after her initial terror, began to gasp in pure wonder. "It's... it's so beautiful!" she shouted over the wind, her voice filled with a childlike joy that was so out of place it was almost painful.
"Focus, Rina!" Talia barked back, though Aiden could see the corner of her mouth twitch. "We're not on a pleasure cruise!"
Even Aiden felt the tension in his shoulders begin to ease. The sheer scale of it, the freedom of the open sky, made his problems with his mother and his misfit maids seem small and insignificant. He was flying. He was free. He was on his way to do something that mattered.
But the freedom was not to last.
Nimbus rumbled, a deep, uneasy sound that Aiden felt more than heard. *The air tastes wrong. A storm is coming.*
Aiden looked ahead. The horizon, which had been a clear, crisp line, was now bruised from blue to a sickly, angry purple. The wind began to howl a different tune, no longer a gentle song but a sharp, biting whistle. The first drops of rain were cold and heavy, striking Aiden's face like tiny pebbles.
"Storm front!" Talia yelled, her voice now sharp with professional urgency. "Big one! Hold on tight!"
The beauty of the journey vanished in an instant. The sky turned a menacing gray. The rain was no longer a drizzle but a curtain of solid water that reduced visibility to almost nothing. Nimbus began to struggle, his powerful wings beating against a gale that seemed determined to push them back. The dragon let out a roar of frustration that was swallowed by the thunder.
"We have to land!" Talia shouted, her knuckles white as she gripped the reins. "Now!"
She scanned the churning landscape below, her eyes narrowed. "There! A cave!"
She pointed to a dark gash in the side of a rocky hillside. With a series of gut-wrenching maneuvers that had everyone clinging to each other for dear life, Talia guided the struggling dragon towards it. The landing wasn't a landing; it was a controlled crash. Nimbus skidded on the wet grass at the cave's entrance, his claws scrabbling for purchase before he finally came to a halt, his sides heaving and smoke puffing from his nostrils in angry clouds.
They all tumbled off, a heap of wet limbs and bruised egos, into the relative dryness of the cave's mouth. The rain hammered down outside, a deafening roar that filled the world. Nimbus folded his wings and shook himself violently, drenching them all a second time.
Aiden leaned against the cave wall, soaked, windswept, and utterly miserable. The beautiful, freeing journey had ended in a chaotic, cold scramble for shelter. He looked at his "squadron," huddled together in the dim light. Rina was trying to wring out her cloak, Talia was checking her gear, Lyra was already staring at him with that worried, possessive look, and Eira and Seraphine stood apart, observing the storm with an unnerving calm.
They were grounded. Stranded. And the mission had barely even begun.