Tolian stood frozen, his gaze locked on the extraordinary scene unfolding before him.
From across the grounds, he watched in utter disbelief as Jolthar effortlessly subdued the drake, a beast renowned for its wild ferocity and untamable nature.
The drake, which for months had been the bane of every handler in the pit, now stood quietly before Jolthar, its enormous head dipping with something almost like reverence as the young man gently rubbed its scaly brow.
Nearby, a group of pit men had arrived from the caverns, their expressions mirroring Tolian's shock. They, too, had failed countless times to get the beast under control.
Since the drake had been brought to the estate, the clan had spared no effort in attempting to tame it, believing it destined as the mighty mount of their clan's eldest son, who had recently wed. It was actually the wedding gift from his in laws.
But every attempt had met with the same violent rejection. The drake was an indomitable force, one that had defied every handler and spurned all who tried to break it.
As Tolian watched Jolthar and the drake, his mind reeled.
Jolthar hadn't used ropes or chains, nor had he relied on sheer strength to overpower it. Instead, there was a silent understanding between the two, a mutual respect that seemed almost magical in nature.
Tolian saw Jolthar's steady hand moving along the drake's head, the beast's eyes narrowing as it leaned into the touch, resembling more of a loyal companion than the terrifying force it had been only minutes before. The men who had witnessed the drake's previous rampages could scarcely believe their eyes.
The drake's massive head was lowered, its fiery eyes softened, and it emitted low, rhythmic sounds, almost as if it were purring under Jolthar's touch. ɴᴇᴡ ɴᴏᴠᴇʟ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀʀᴇ ᴘᴜʙʟɪsʜᴇᴅ ᴏɴ novel·fiɾe·net
A ripple of murmurs broke out among the men of the pit, who were now gathered around. Some of them shook their heads, while others stared in silent awe.
The drake, now utterly relaxed, nudged Jolthar's arm with its enormous head as if encouraging him to continue his gentle pats.
A ripple of laughter escaped from Jolthar's lips, his voice warm and filled with a rare sense of triumph. "I think you've been misunderstood, my friend," he murmured to the drake.
"Unbelievable," one of the older handlers muttered. "We tried everything. And here he comes, without fear, without a whip, and the beast practically melts." The disbelief was still evident in his voice.
Every man there knew the drake's history and the relentless struggle to tame it. They remembered Lorryll's attempt, which had ended in disaster; the beast had tossed him aside with contempt, nearly injuring him.
After that, it had been confined to the pit, its wildness deemed too dangerous for anyone to attempt taming again.
Tolian's face darkened as he thought of Lorryll's failure.
Lorryll was the clan's pride, the heir, the man they had all expected would take control of the drake with ease, yet he had been humiliated before their eyes.
The commotion in front of the estate had brought everyone outside, and Lorryll was among them.
He was standing along with Davis and Orimus. Lorryll watched the drake with a slight annoyance, but he didn't let it show as he quickly masked it with a blank expression. Then he asked, "Who is that?" he noticed a young man standing right next to the drake, patting its head.
Orimus was quick to reply as he recognised Jolthar. It had been quite a while since he had disappeared.
Jolthar had changed a lot since he left the Estate. Now, he stood six feet two inches tall, his long silver snow hair hung back in a ponytail behind his head. He wasn't too muscular nor too thin; an above average build of muscle behind his clothes and forearm muscles flexed as he stretched them to pat the drake. Two scabbards hung on his back; one was the Horgath, and the long sword was Knashii.
"Jolthar!" Orimus exclaimed as he watched Jolthar petting the drake, unable to process what he was seeing.
Davis also remembered meeting Jolthar for a brief moment in the Keep and recognised that he noticed that he changed a lot and the swords too.
"That boy who ran away from the keep," Lorryll said as his gaze fixed on the drake. Every time he watched, he remembered the time when he tried to mount the drake and how it was rejected. In his anger, he wanted to kill, but he didn't as it was a gift from his in-laws.
"What is he doing here?" Orimus said out loud. It had been years since he left the estate, and no one really bothered to talk about him.
Lorryll's sharp eyes fell upon the drake and Jolthar, his face contorting in a mixture of irritation and disbelief. He walked towards the drake; the two of them followed behind Lorryll.
Tolian noticed Lorryll's arrival and straightened, nodding respectfully as the eldest son moved closer. But his gaze flickered to Jolthar, a silent warning to be careful.
Lorryll's pride was well-known, and Tolian could already sense the tension brewing.
"So," Lorryll said, his tone laced with forced casualness, "you seem to have tamed the beast everyone deemed impossible." He looked at Jolthar with a raised brow, his voice carrying an edge. "Impressive... I'll grant you that."
Jolthar met Lorryll's gaze, nodding respectfully, though he sensed the faint hostility beneath the words. "The drake is strong-willed, that's certain," he replied carefully, his tone neutral. "But strength responds to understanding as much as to force. I merely found a way to speak its language."
A flicker of irritation crossed Lorryll's face, but he masked it quickly, turning his attention to the drake. He stepped forward, reaching a tentative hand towards it, but the beast's calm demeanour shifted. Its body tensed, and it released a low growl as it recoiled from Lorryll's approach, returning to Jolthar's side as if seeking his protection.