Lonna kept Tercala occupied below deck, distracting him from his anxiety about his wings. She included him as she looked through her notes. The more Tercala focused on those, the less his wings seemed to weigh on his mind. Above deck, Shan soared through the sky with Ann and Raylee at his side, feeling the wind rush past as they moved. The thrill of flight never lost its charm for him, and today, he practiced swooping and diving. He focused on the water below, honing his instincts, and, with a flash of his talons, snatched a fish from the waves. Triumphant, he flew back to the ship and dropped it onto the deck, where the sailors cheered and quickly went to collect their prize. They were grateful for his help, and Shan felt a quiet satisfaction as he watched them handle the fish, thanking him with nods and smiles. Though he couldn’t speak to them in this form, he could see their appreciation. And in return, he was learning more about the techniques of flight and the art of hunting. As he banked left for another round, Shan realized he could no longer see either dragon. Yet he felt no unease. He could still reach out to them telepathically if he needed to. He wasn’t adept in telepathy yet, but it was the only way he could communicate in roc form. Looking down, he spotted Loka watching him from the ship, her small form leaning against the railing as she shielded her eyes from the sun. Feeling a rush of happiness, he gave a loud, joyful cry, letting the sound echo across the sky. She waved at him with a warm smile that he felt even at this distance. A moment later, Lanni appeared beside him, her thoughts brushing against his own with a touch of concern. “What’s wrong?” she asked, her mental voice like a soft chime in his mind. “Nothing, I was calling to Loka.” Lanni sighed in relief, chuckling. “Sorry, I can understand roc’s human tongue, but I can’t make sense of their cries. It took me years just to learn dragon cries. It’s all about tone and mood. Probably the hardest language I’ve ever learned.” Curious, Shan asked, “How many languages do you speak, then?” “I lost track after fifteen,” Lanni replied, shrugging as if it were no big deal. Shan let out a mental sigh. “Fifteen, and I can barely handle Baj-tisk.” Lanni grinned. “But you picked up the sign language easily enough.” “That’s different—I already knew some. I wanted to learn a language that didn’t hurt to use.” He trailed off, thoughtful, before continuing, “Unfortunately, there aren’t many…” His thoughts were abruptly cut off by a sharp, piercing cry. He whipped around just in time to see another roc, larger and darker, diving straight for Lanni. She dodged with surprising speed, letting out a growl as the roc wheeled around for another pass. Instinct took over as Shan dove at the intruder, his wings slicing through the air with a fierce determination. He had no plan, only a primal urge to protect. The other roc twisted in mid-air, letting out a screeching warning. “Leave her alone!” Shan sent, projecting his thoughts forcefully. He felt the intruder jolt, pulling back in surprise. “Menthan?” came the other roc’s shocked reply. Shan recoiled, realizing his mistake. A roc wouldn’t have used a foreign language to speak to his own people. “Shan?” The other roc asked. Shan cocked his head. Lanni’s mental voice broke his focus. “What is it?” “He knows my name,” Shan replied, confused. Lanni, who had been watching closely, looked thoughtful. She spoke aloud, voice steady. “Krina?” The roc jerked its head toward her, then nodded slowly. “Land on the ship,” Lanni said, keeping her tone gentle but firm. “We can talk there.” Cautiously, Shan followed the others down, his heart racing with unanswered questions. As he landed, he noticed Morina and Kritalla joining them, their gazes wary. The moment he took human form, the other roc—now in the shape of a man with deep-set eyes and wind-ruffled hair—stepped forward and wrapped him in a hug. Shan stiffened and pushed the man away, drawing a knife instinctively. “Don’t touch me,” he snarled. The man’s face crumpled with hurt. “I’m sorry,” he stammered, voice raw. “I…” Lanni stepped forward, looking between the two of them. “Krina, how do you know him?” Krina turned to her, bowing slightly. “Princess, forgive me. I didn’t realize it was you. I thought one of my people was being attacked.” He looked back at Shan, eyes softening. “I… I know him because he’s my son.” The words hung in the air, heavy and shocking. Shan’s eyes went wide, and he shook his head. “No,” he whispered. “No, you lie.” Kritalla placed a hand on Shan’s arm, speaking quietly. “We need answers.” Swallowing hard, Shan stayed rooted, unwilling to leave just yet. He felt Loka slip her hand into his, her presence grounding him. Her gaze met his, reassuring and steady. She gave a slight nod, silently telling him what he needed to know. She’d checked. This man spoke the truth. Lanni, watching this, folded her arms. “Ambassador Krina, then?” she said, her voice hardening slightly. “Care to explain?” And so, Krina did. He spoke of treaties and impossible love, of meeting Shan’s mother and losing her, of years spent searching and longing for a son he could barely remember. He told of his desperate, secret visits, hearing whispers and following rumors, hoping against hope that he might find his child. Shan listened, his anger a slow, simmering thing that burned even as his heart stirred with uncertainty. He wanted to reject it all, to hurl these words back and walk away. But then he thought of the quiet, lonely ache he’d carried for years. An ache that, no matter how he tried, he had never managed to ignore. Finally, he spoke, his voice low. “If this is true…” He struggled for words. “If you’re my father, then you owe me more than stories.” Krina’s eyes filled with tears, and he nodded, understanding. “I’d give anything to get to know you, Shan. Please. Let me be part of your life, even if it’s just for a while.” After a long silence, Shan nodded. “We’re in the middle of a war. But… perhaps, we can talk. See if there’s anything worth finding here.” He felt Loka squeeze his hand, and its warmth chased away the last of his doubts. For now, he would take it one step at a time. And, just maybe, he would find something he’d never expected to have: a father. #fantasy #magic #dragons #hiddenlands