As twilight approached, Pryce reached the shores of Emberfall Island. The soft splashing of water against his small boat created a calming cadence, causing him to question the wisdom of his choice to be alone on an island, become a dragon trainer, and accumulate debt.

He tied the boat securely to the weathered dock, the rough rope biting into his palms. "Ouch, " he said before grabbing his bag of belongings, quiver, and bow. Then he made his way toward the barracks as the wooden planks creaked beneath his feet.

As Pryce walked, he heard unfamiliar sounds—rustling in the undergrowth, distant screeches, and the faint whistle of wind through abandoned buildings. It was a far cry from the familiar bustle of Crystal Shores. More than once he found himself whirling around, certain he'd seen something move in the corner of his eye.

Pryce clutched his bow tighter. "Get a grip, Harper-Green," he said to himself. "It's just an old outpost, not some haunted island."

Inside the barracks, Pryce fumbled with a flint to light a fire in the fireplace. "Come on, you piece of junk," he said, striking the flint again and again. Finally, a small spark caught, and he coaxed it into a flame. Warmth spread through the room as the fire grew, casting an orange glow across the walls.

Pryce set his belongings on the table where they had shared breakfast earlier, noticing a few crumbs and a forgotten spoon still lying about. He removed the ripped book from his pocket and placed it on the table. "Can't let those numbskulls win," he said, gently smoothing out a crumpled page.

Clutching a flickering torch, Pryce stepped outside to check on Stormwing's condition. As twilight descended, the air grew chilly, prompting him to tug his coat closer.

Pryce opened the cell door wide, not intending to close it. "Hey there, girl. Ready to be set free?"

Stormwing's eyes glowed in the torchlight. She pressed her snout against his body. "You can use this as your bed if you want, but you're free to roam."

Stormwing unfurled her wing, the movement smooth. Pryce couldn't help but chuckle, shaking his head in amusement. "Feeling better already, huh?" He reached out to stroke her scales. "You had me worried for nothing, you know that?"

As Pryce made his way back to the barracks, Stormwing followed. Her footsteps shook the ground slightly, and Pryce found himself marveling at her sheer size. It was easy to forget sometimes, just how powerful she really was. At the barrack's entrance, the dragon attempted to squeeze through, but her bulk prevented her from entering.

"Sorry, girl. You're a bit too big for indoors. Don't worry, though. I'll be right inside if you need me." He felt a pang of guilt at leaving her outside, but what choice did he have?

Stormwing let out a soft rumble, almost like a purr, and settled down just outside the door.

A commotion nearby caught Pryce's attention. The mottled gray cat he'd seen earlier had cornered something, its prey emitting high-pitched screeches. The cat's tail swished back and forth, its eyes fixed intently on its quarry.

"Hey now, leave that alone." Pryce shooed the cat away.

To his surprise, the cat's victim was a Tidewing gull, its feathers ruffled. The bird's plumage was a mix of soft grays and whites, with distinctive black markings on its wingtips. Around its leg was a small brass cylinder—a message capsule.

"Well, aren't you a sorry sight." Pryce carefully scooped up the bird. "Easy there, little fella. I'm not going to hurt you."

Pryce carried the cat and bird into the barracks. He set the gull on the table and turned his attention to the message capsule. He unlatched it, pulling out a slip of paper.

The message was old, the ink faded. It read: "Supplies running low. Send reinforcements. Marauders closing in."

"That's a really old message," Pryce said, setting the paper aside. He glanced nervously at the windows, half-expecting to see marauders peering in.

He rummaged through his meager supplies, tearing off a chunk of bread for the cat. "Here you go . . . Ash. That's what I'll call you." The name seemed fitting for the gray feline. The cat purred, rubbing against Pryce's leg before digging into the bread.

He pondered what to feed the seabird, eventually deciding to provide it with some water in a flat container. "I'll see about catching you some fish tomorrow . . . though I imagine you're quite capable of finding your own meals." Pryce added fishing to his expanding roster of chores, realizing it would benefit him as much as his newfound animal companions.

Glancing out the window, Pryce saw Stormwing drinking by the water's edge. The sight of her moving freely, without pain, brought a smile to his face. "At least she's settling in nicely."

The place was a mess—cobwebs in corners, dust on every surface, and who knew what kind of repairs the roof might need. "How am I going to make this work?" he wondered aloud, stoking the fire. "I'm no carpenter, that's for sure." Now, he wished he'd paid more attention when his father had tried to teach him basic repairs.

In the kitchen, Pryce discovered Declan had left behind some salt and dried herbs. "Thank you, Declan." A grin spread across his face. "Now I can make my awful cooking taste somewhat better."

Settling at the table, Pryce spread out the torn pages of his book as the fire crackled in the background. For a moment, it almost felt cozy. Ash eyed the bird with predatory interest, while the gull perched on the back of a chair.

"Ash, leave the bird alone. I mean it. No midnight snacks." He wondered if he'd have to separate them for the night.

Pryce watched as Ash sauntered across the room, tail held high, clearly at ease in the surroundings. The Tidewing gull, too, seemed unbothered by its new environment, preening its feathers as if it had always belonged there.

"You two seem right at home. The Oceanriders must've taken care of you, huh? But why'd they leave you behind?" Pryce asked, not expecting an answer from his furry and feathered companions.

"Well, whatever the reason," he said, "looks like you're stuck with me now. Hope you don't mind slumming it with a novice dragon trainer and his oversized lizard."

Pryce watched the bird flap its wings. I should give you a name . . . Stormy? No, too close to Stormwing. How about . . . Skye? Yeah, Skye works." The bird cocked its head at the sound of its new name, and Pryce grinned. "You like that, Skye? It suits you, I think." Naming the animals made them feel more like family than strays.

Pulling out a small notebook and a stub of charcoal, Pryce began listing his immediate needs and plans for the barracks. As he wrote, he knew his new housemates could largely fend for themselves. It was one less worry on his growing list.

"Look at us," he said to Ash and Skye. "A regular little family already. Who would've thought?"

Exhaustion setting in, Pryce moved his cot near the fire. As he lay down, Ash curled up beside him, the cat's warmth a small comfort. Skye settled nearby, its feathers rustling softly. Through the open window, he could hear Stormwing's heavy footsteps returning to her cell. It was beginning to feal like a new normal.

Deep in sleep, a noise jolted Pryce awake. He sat up, but saw nothing. Ash slept peacefully beside him, and the fire had died down to embers.

"Must've been a dream," he said, settling back down.

When morning light filtered through the windows, Pryce awoke to find Ash eyeing Skye hungrily. The cat's tail twitched back and forth, its gaze fixed on the bird. It was a reminder that despite their seeming friendship, nature had its own rules.

"Ash, no." Pryce scooped up the cat. "Skye's not breakfast. We talked about this, remember?" He set the cat down on the other side of the room, hoping the distance would be enough.

As he stretched, working out the kinks from sleeping on the hard cot, something on the table caught his eye. The torn pages of his book, which he'd left scattered, were now neatly stacked. Pryce froze.

"Did I do that in my sleep?" Pryce looked at Ash and Skye, but neither seemed bothered. "You two didn't see anything, did you?"

Shaking off his unease, Pryce made his way to the door. "From now on, this door gets locked at night. No more mysterious tidying while we sleep. Got it?" Ash meowed in response, while Skye merely ruffled its feathers. Pryce wished he could be as nonchalant as they were about the whole situation.

With that, Pryce stepped out into the morning light, Ash and Skye shooting out behind him. "Slow down, you two."

Pryce found himself glancing over his shoulder as he made his way towards Stormwing's cell, the dragon's pitiful lair.