This day had been a long time coming.
Yori loved her great-grandmother. Loved her from the bottom of her heart. Her beloved, beloved great-grandma. Though, it wasn’t just Yori who loved and respected her great-grandma. Great-grandma had been the living encyclopedia of their tribe. They’d had all sorts of names for her, like the great mother, and godmom, and so on, but Yori was able to call her great-grandma because they were related by blood.
I’m great-grandma’s great-granddaughter.
Just thinking that gave her power. It let her believe she was invincible. There wasn’t a thing Yori couldn’t do. There was no goal she couldn’t accomplish if she set her mind to it. Nothing was impossible.
When a child was born into the tribe, great-grandma was always the one to name them. So, of course, great-grandma was the one who had named Yori Yori.
Yori was the second Yori of her tribe. She hadn’t met the first Yori herself, though. Her great- grandmother had only had one son, and that son’s first daughter was named Yori. So the first Yori was her great-grandmother’s first granddaughter. But the first Yori had apparently died young.
She’d heard that if her great-grandmother’s only son had been born a girl instead, she would have named him Yori. Great-grandma had an emotional attachment to that name. And great-grandma had given that name to Yori. That made Yori special.
When Yori begged her dear, dear great-grandmother for a story, great-grandma would beckon to her, and let Yori sit on her lap. The others would tell her that the great mother was too old to be doing that anymore, and that it would be terrible if it affected her health, and all sorts of other things they shouldn’t have said, but great-grandma didn’t care in the slightest. Great-grandma’s stories were all incredibly interesting. Yori loved all of them, and remembered them precisely. But Yori’s favorites were the tales of adventure in Grimgar.
Long, long ago, great-grandma had lived north of the Tenryus. She hadn’t been alone. She’d had comrades, and together with them, she’d gone on unbelievably grand adventures.
Yori could imitate great-grandma’s unusual storytelling style perfectly. Great-grandma had met lots of people in Grimgar, and been through many heart-pounding battles. She’d had painful partings as well. The man who had become Yori’s great-grandfather had been one of great-grandma’s adventuring companions.
After that, great-grandma had escaped from Grimgar during the great cataclysm, and crossed over to the Red Continent. She hadn’t been willing to talk much about how she had been forced to flee in desperation while protecting her only son. It had been so hectic and difficult that she’d said she didn’t remember what happened very well.
However, even once she reached the Red Continent, great-grandma probably hadn’t had much time to rest. “Maybe not,” great-grandma would say with a smile. “It was fun, though, and there was all sorts of stuff goin’ on.”
The reason that “all sorts of stuff” happened was because great-grandma had been incredibly popular wherever she went. According to the stories told in their clan, there had been thousands, maybe even tens of thousands of men who had tried to court her. But great-grandma never got into a relationship with any of them. Yori had heard time and again how cool and amazing her great-grandfather had been. After praising him to high heaven, great-grandma would always say, “The only reason everyone’s here is because of him.”
Great-grandma was singly devoted in her love, and Yori thought that was a wonderful thing. She admired her for it. Yori hoped she could be the same. No, she would be. When Yori found somebody to love, she’d never betray them. And she’d never let them betray her. Yori would love only that person for all her life, and only let that person ever love her.
Great-grandma was a tolerant person. Her patience was deeper than the boundless sea. She’d often said, “Yesterday’s enemy is today’s friend.” When the time came that she had to shake hands with old enemies, she always initiated it, never making them extend their hand first. She was flexible, but had an incredibly strong will. She even smiled when telling sad stories. When she got mad, she was so terrifying that the whole tribe shuddered, but then she’d go back to smiling again in no time.
“There’s somethin’ your great-grandma forgot in Grimgar. And someone’s gotta go get it. Do y’think you could go and do that for your great-grandma, Yori?”
Great-grandma had only said that to Yori once. Never again. They had been alone at the time, with no one else around. Of course, Yori had promised to go. But when she did, great-grandma shook her head and said there was no need to promise.
“Yori, you should do whatever it is you want to do. That’s how your great-grandma’s always lived her life. So, Yori, you live for Yori. Can you promise that?”
Of course, Yori had made that promise to her great-grandma. But she had made a point of not specifying what she meant by doing so. She was going to go and get whatever it was that great-grandma had left behind, because that was what Yori wanted to do. She loved and admired her great-grandma beyond compare. If her great-grandma had a wish that she couldn’t fulfill herself anymore, then Yori would make it come true in her place. That was Yori’s own wish.
“Karambit!” Yori called out at the entrance to a dragon hole, and a screech responded from deep inside.
The hole was about four meters across, and more than twenty meters deep. There were eight dragon holes about halfway up Step Mountain, which was located on the southern side of the Tenryus, and one winged dragon was being raised in each of them.
“Ushaska!”
There was another voice calling for a different dragon at a neighboring hole. Yori looked over to see Riyo looking back at her. Yori wasn’t very fond of her blood-related little sister. When she’d been younger, Yori had adored her, and she didn’t hate the girl now, but she’d gotten sick of Riyo following her everywhere. For one thing, her sister was a year and a half younger than her, and used to be so little, but then she’d pulled a growth spurt, and now Riyo stood about a head taller than Yori. Just try to put yourself in Yori’s shoes, being followed around by a little sister who’s way bigger than you. She got in the way all the time, and was annoying and creepy.
Yori looked back at the dragon hole. Right before she had done that, Riyo had opened her mouth as if to say something, but as usual, now she was going to just slump her shoulders and keep it to herself. Yori wished she’d stop acting like that. It made it seem like Yori was being mean to her. But all she was doing was ignoring her annoying little sister. She was expressing with her attitude that it was time for Riyo to grow up and become independent. She’d told her little sister that too. Repeatedly. But Riyo wouldn’t listen. Yori’s little sister was such a dunderhead. Ah, by the way, dunderhead was a word great-grandma used. When someone went too far, she’d be like, “Oh, you’re such a dunderhead.” Though, maybe only Yori used it now. She had a number of great-grandma-isms like that. Quite a few, actually. But anyway, Riyo was a real dunderhead.
Karambit crawled up out of the dragon hole. The winged dragons they raised on Step Mountain were small to medium size for dragons from the Tenryu Mountains, and even then, they never got bigger than the low end of medium size. They had wing membranes on their front legs which allowed them to fly, their necks were a little on the long side, and they were quite skilled with their tongues. Their rear legs had a streamlined look to them, but they had considerable kicking power.
Karambit poked its head out of the dragon hole, and immediately started licking Yori’s face with its reddish-purple tongue.
“Whoa, Karambit! Ah ha! Hey! Hee hee!”
Yori grabbed Karambit’s head with her hand, but didn’t try to stop the dragon from licking her. The skin of a winged dragon was covered with something that was like a midpoint between scales and feathers. It wasn’t soft or hard. Its texture was indescribable, but felt amazing to touch. Their saliva was smooth, and had a surprisingly mellow taste. Their breath wasn’t particularly bad unless they had just eaten. Humans who didn’t brush their teeth were far worse. Though, maybe Yori only thought that because she was used to it.
Karambit had still been an egg when they’d first met, so Yori had known this winged dragon since before it had hatched. She’d spent five years learning to be a dragon tamer as she raised the dragon to this size.
“There, there. You’re a good girl, Karambit. Yori loves you. Almost as much as she loves her great-grandma. Ha ha! Stop it! Don’t get mad. It was always gonna be this way. You never stood a chance against great-grandma. But you’re still special, Karambit. You’re gonna carry Yori south of the Tenryus now. Riyo’s gonna come along too, though. She’s such a dunderhead. It’s so annoying. But oh well. You already know this, but Ushaska’s a good girl. Unlike Riyo, it won’t be so bad having her along with us. You agree, don’t you? There, there, there...”
It had all been for this day.
Raising dragons was incredibly dangerous. One in five dragon tamers would be killed by a hatchling, and two more would be killed during the juvenile stage. Only the two still alive after that would get to become dragon tamers. But even after becoming full-fledged tamers, many still died. It had always been rash to try and tame dragons, hadn’t it? That was an opinion that was still strongly held in some quarters. But if care was put into raising them, some dragons would grow attached to humans like these ones had. They might not do everything they were told, but they would listen to the caregivers who’d raised them. That was why if you wanted to be a dragon rider, you had to become a dragon tamer first.