“Ya showed up at a good time, Yer Highness,” the Wyvern Master says in greeting as Shiro and Uryuu dismount from Getsuga’s back. “Most a’ the unpaired wyverns’re hanging ‘round the dens right now.”
Uryuu glances from the man and up at the sheer cliff in front of them where wyverns are lazing in the sun. There are more wyverns here than he expected, their bright hides eye-catching against the pale stone. It’s almost dizzying to stand at the foot of the cliff, to realize how many wyverns call Sōkyoku Hill home—
“Only ‘bout one in ten e’er agrees to a rider,” Shiro tells him with a faint smile. “Most jes put up wit’ us cause these dens’re safer than any they could find in th’wild. Ya can usually tell those sort by how they treat th’caretakers, all aloof an’ disinterested. It ain’t a guarantee that they’ll never bond, but you’ll hafta work harder t’ earn their respect.”
“How many are there?” Uryuu asks.
The Wyvern Master chuckles and gestures for them to follow him. “Over a thousand adults, ‘bout two hundred fledglings, an’ another hundred or so ancients. Largest population a’ wyverns in th’entire continent,” he says with pride as they enter one of the large, dimly lit tunnels, Getsuga trailing after them. “Any pref’rences which wyverns we visit first?”
Uryuu shakes his head and drifts closer to Shiro’s side, giving his Lord a pleading look. He knows nothing about the unbonded wyverns beyond the little Shiro has told him, and now that he’s here, about to meet them them, his stomach is churning.
(What if he’s not good enough?)
(What if Urahara is wrong about him—)
“Which ones’re out?” Shiro asks as his hand settles on Uryuu’s lower back, magic sparking warm and soothing against Uryuu’s skin.
“Zephyr an’ his lot,” the Wyvern Master says as they turn down a slightly smaller tunnel. “Out making trouble, I suspect. They’re a wild bunch.”
Shiro snorts and shakes his head. “Figures. Ain’t e’er seen Zephyr sit still unless he’s sleepin’,” he says in amusement, then looks over his shoulder at Getsuga. “Cha think, girl. Whirlwind an’ her group first or Stormwind an’ his?”
Getsuga scoffs and taps a claw against the ground once, giving Shiro a baleful look that has him laughing.
“Whirlwind, then?” the Wyvern Master asks dryly, leading them on without hesitation. “Why am I not surprised.”
“Shiro?” Uryuu asks softly, wondering what he’s missing.
Shiro smiles and bites back his laughter, sending a warm look over his shoulder at Getsuga as he does. “Stormwind’s young an’ taken wit’ Getsuga, an’ she thinks he’s jes a yappy pup right now. Maybe when he grows inta his limbs a bit more an’ stops tryin’ ta show off he’ll have a chance wit’ her.”
Getsuga growls and shoves Shiro forward with her muzzle, making him stumble into the Wyvern Master with a yelp. Then, before Uryuu can react, she shoves her head against Uryuu’s chest and gives him a look that he can only interpret as long-suffering.
“Ah…” Uryuu fumbles for words amidst the tangle of amusement-panic-uncertainty that chokes his throat, before finally giving up and patting her cheek ruefully. She seems content with that at least, snorting a gust of hot air right in his face before she draws back and settles on her haunches.
“Traitor,” Shiro says without heat, sending Getsuga a fond look. “I see how it is.”
She lifts her muzzle into the air and turns her head away, haughty and pointed and playful in a way Uryuu never expected to see, not with the reputation she has. And it isn’t long before her posture relaxes and she makes an impatient sound.
“Yeah, yeah,” Shiro says with a grin and a beckoning gesture to Uryuu. “Shall we?”
The rest of the trip through the tunnels is quick enough, though Uryuu is irrevocably lost after another three turns. He’s sure there’s something about the tunnels that lets the Wyvern Master and Shiro know where they’re going, but to him the entire place is one gigantic maze. There isn’t even any sunlight, just Moon Orbs casting their gentle silver light upon them.
It makes the place almost surreal, the light enough to illuminate but not to reveal, leaving the ceiling in shadow and the walls deceptively craggy. It’s like walking through the twilight hours, where everything is subtly exaggerated and colors are not quite right.
Another turning and suddenly there is sunlight, pouring in from opening after opening, blinding in its sudden brightness. Uryuu winces and raises a hand to block the light, shooting Shiro a look at the lack of warning.
“Whoops?” Shiro offers with a sheepish grin, rubbing at the back of his head. “Sorry, fergot how startlin’ it can be.”
Uryuu rolls his eyes and turns away, following the Wyvern Master towards one of the openings and looking out. His eyes adjust to the brightness and he finally sees the wyverns.
There are six or seven of them, sprawled out across the wide ledge like gigantic cats in the sunlight, their wings resting on the ground and their bodies lax with contentment. They’re all kinds of colors and shades, no two alike, and… and it’s beautiful, nothing like the sedate monochrome of pegasi that he grew up with.
“Th’grass green wyvern’s Whirlwind,” the Wyvern Master tells him, pointing towards a mid-sized wyvern napping furthest from them. “She’s th’leader a’this flock. Decent gal, bit nippy when irritated but o’erall pretty intelligent an’ cunnin’. Ain’t quite done growin’ but she’ll prolly end up a middling weight with a small emphasis on speed when she’s got ‘er final growth in th’next season ‘r two. Th’grey to ‘er right is ‘er second, Silver. He’s a bit lazy but makes up fer it wit’ decisiveness. Bit more straightfor’ard than Whirlwind, but a steady sort wit’ good stamina. Think he’ll end up closer to a heavy weight as an adult.”
The wyverns stir, heads lifting one by one and turning to stare towards them. Whirlwind’s eyes narrow as she heaves herself to her feet and does her best to loom over everyone but… but after Getsuga she looks small, her body lacking both the bulk and the height. Even to Uryuu’s untrained eye she looks more streamlined than Getsuga, wings and body shaped to cut the air more easily than Getsuga does.
None of the wyverns here are Getsuga’s size, Uryuu realizes as he watches them rise one after the other. Some are smaller than Whirlwind and some are larger, but none have Getsuga’s sheer mass. They’re all built slimmer, even Silver, and… and he can’t help but look over his shoulder at Shiro in surprise.
He’d thought… he’d thought Shiro would suggest a wyvern like Getsuga, large and powerful; she’s a Lord’s mount from muzzle to tail tip, and Uryuu had thought Shiro would prefer he choose one similar, but this…
This isn’t similar, this is Uryuu’s style of mount, swift and agile, perfect for an archer who wants to remain mobile.
Shiro smiles at him, barely a quirk of his lips but so, so soft and warm that Uryuu has to look away, mouth dry and butterflies swirling in his stomach.
(He’s never going to grow accustomed to Shiro’s effect on him.)
“Well? Go on an’ see,” Shiro murmurs, nudging him towards the flock of wyvern. “They won’t dare do anything wit’ Getsuga here.”
Uryuu takes a deep breath and squares his shoulders, reminding himself of all the reasons this is a good idea, and takes a step. The wyverns watch him with sharp eyes, shuffling around as he moves closer. Only Whirlwind stands firm, her golden eyes remaining fixed on him as he approaches.
“I’m looking for a mount,” Uryuu announces once he’s closer to her. He has no idea how wyverns and wyvern riders agree to a partnership, and Shiro had only said that it was a personal thing. So… he does what he knows, announces his intention and lets his magic drift outward—
Silver snorts and turns away to flop back down in the sun, disinterest in every line of his great body. Other wyverns drift away as well, turned off by his words or his magic or both, leaving him standing before three wyverns: Whirlwind, a steel blue wyvern, and a ruby red wyvern.
He can feel them through his magic, feel the way their own innate magic resonates with his and… and he has no idea what to say, what to do. If they were pegasi he’d know what to do—
The ruby red snaps at him, great teeth slicing through the air less than a foot from his face, and Uryuu glares at the beast, hesitance forgotten. “I’m a Quincy,” he growls back, letting his magic swell and chill the air around them. “A Quincy Mage. If that’s a problem for you then kindly take yourself aside.”
The red settles back with a chuffing sound, amber eyes glittering with pleasure. Uryuu doubts the wyvern actually likes him — of the three, the red’s innate magic meshes the least with his own — but he can tell that the red is interested in him.
It’s the blue who edges closer at his declaration, nostrils flaring as they take in his scent. The blue feels familiar, feels like cold-wind-swift-water-dark-sky against Uryuu’s mind, and Uryuu can’t help but reach out to brush his fingers over the blue’s muzzle. “Beautiful,” he murmurs, and the blue preens.
Whirlwind snorts and shoulders the blue aside, assessing Uryuu with narrowed eyes. She spreads one of her wing-arms just enough to bar Uryuu from the blue and the sense of her in his head changes, less interested and more protective, her sharp-wind-lightning-crackle magic taking on a sharper edge.
Uryuu takes a breath and meets Whirlwind’s gaze, trying to project as much confidence as he can. “It’s up to us to decide if we want to be partners. Do you always make the decisions for everyone in your flight?”
He doesn’t know how much Whirlwind understands as she brings her muzzle close to his head, lips drawn back to show her teeth. She’s judging him, measuring his worth against some invisible balance, and it’s all Uryuu can do to stand firm.
(Wyverns respect strength and perseverance, Shiro told him.)
(He refuses to give a bad showing in front of his Lord.)
Finally, finally, Whirlwind steps back and swings her head around, growling at the blue and herding them away from Uryuu.
The blue snorts as they’re herded away and Uryuu gets the impression that he’s not escaping them so easily. He’s caught their interest and that, for now, is enough for the blue to decide they like him. Whether it’s enough for him to earn their respect and cooperation is a different matter, and one Uryuu’s not so certain about.
He’s the son of a pegasus rider, grew up with the majestic winged horses and… part of him wants that. Wants the softer sound of feathered wings and the warmth of a furred flank.
But… the blue’s innate magic resonates well with his. They’d make for a deadly partnership, much like Shiro and Getsuga.
Uryuu takes a breath and shakes his head, turning away to return to Shiro’s side. It’s too early to decide, no matter how tempting it is to just… settle for the first potential partner he finds.
(The blue doesn’t deserve to be chosen on a whim, partnered to someone not even certain about his own mind.)
(No. He’ll see what his other options are first.)