Off To Take My Dragon-Flying Test

20250822

Prompt from DailyPrompt.com

“Ready to go, Polly??” Mum’s radiating pride and excitement. It makes my resentment feel petty.
So I force a smile and mumble “Yeah.”
This isn’t enough to fool my mother, who at once shifts to anxious concern. I don’t know how she does it; just watching her jump between moods gives me whiplash but she can do it over and over.
“Oh dear, is something the matter? Are you worried about the test? We can do some drills on the way over…”
“No, no, everything’s fine!” I try to force my tone light and bubbly, like hers was. Like mine should be. “I’m ready to go. Let’s get my dragon riding license. Woo!”
Ugh, I shouldn’t have pushed it with the ‘woo’ - it came out really strained. Mum definitely isn’t going to buy me being ok now.
“Polly. Dear. Talk to me.”
I look at my feet. “It’s… it’s silly, Mum. Don’t worry about it. Please?” My voice cracks. I hadn’t meant it to.
She gives that sigh, the “I’m trying my best for you, I really am, and it pains me that my best apparently isn’t enough” sigh, the one that always makes me want to dig a hole and curl up in it and become a worm and get eaten alive by a bird or something.
I wilt further and wonder why I always ruin everything. Why can’t I be normal, like my siblings? Or even most of my classmates. “It’s not the test, really. I just… L-let’s go, or I’ll miss my appointment.”
Thankfully that deadline forces Mum to grumble “Fine!”, and we hurry out to the stable. It’s huge, twice the size of the house - it has to be, to fit two large dragons.
And now Roy’s going on about wanting a small dragon of his own, which will require an extension. At that point we won’t have much of a garden at all. Just a cramped house, built tall and thin, and a sprawling airy building which stinks of sulphur no matter how strong the winds blow.
I strap on my goggles and hair wrap and parachute (safety first!) and climb up onto the saddle behind Mum. Bubby grumbles and stomps, as reluctant to leave as I am, though for entirely different reasons. But when Mum taps his shoulder he obediently trots down the lane to the launch pad.
The dragon market, where the licenses are given, is on an island about two hundred meters from ours, as the dragon flies. Mostly up; our island is one of the newer, smaller ones which float only about sixty meters above sea level. Dad has his sights set on the Emerald Heights, and always swears that this is the year he’ll finally get the promotion he deserves.
Whereas I…
As Bubby gallops down the runway and leaps into the air, I peer down. Down, down, down, to the city below.
The city on the ocean is very different. “More primitive”, I was taught in school. They live on oceanic islands, or big floating rafts. They don’t have magic powerful enough to float entire islands. They don’t have dragons.
Instead they get around in boats. Everyone has their own little boat, I think. And where islands or rafts are close together, there are log walkways between them.
Their islands are far bigger than ours. Even the raft houses are larger. Wide and flat. I bet they never have to try and carry a hamper of laundry up a ladder. And they have plants everywhere - in pots, covering their roofs, and the actual islands are covered in greenery. They even have trees.
All the wood in Aria is bought from the forests below. We import our food, too. We have to.
Boats, I’m pretty sure, don’t take up half your parents’ income to maintain. They don’t need feeding, after all. Nor get sick. And you don’t have to keep them on your island or raft - they just float in the ocean, freeing up space. Plus, they’re so small! We only had dragons big enough to carry two people, and even with their magical nature that feat requires a wingspan that shadows our whole house. Yet some of the boats down there seem only a little larger than the people riding them.
And, whereas humans can only fly using dragons, or by harnessing the most powerful and dangerous magics… the people below can just swim. I see a whole crowd of them splashing about throwing a colourful ball back and forth.
Imagine your life not being constrained by fences. Or the fear of falling. Imagine just being able to take some wood, with your own two hands, and make something which let you go wherever you like.
Then we’re passing over the market island, my view of the ocean city blocked by lichen-covered rock. The closest thing we have to greenery across most of Aria. Only the richest islands have public gardens.
I’ve been fighting to keep my little garden alive. Treasuring the oasis I’ve nurtured. It feels like the plants and I are fighting against the sky to cling on. Now…
My eyes drift to the streamlined racing dragons in their pens. Having one will make Roy so happy. I should be happy for him. I should be eager to extend the barn, and begging him to let me try riding his dragon.
But it feels so hollow.
Riding dragons is magical, yes, but… I wish I lived somewhere we didn’t need dragons. Didn’t cover most of our space with stables and launchpads. Didn’t pour so much of our money into feeding and maintaining them.
I wished I could just pop a basket on my head and swim to my friend’s house.
I wished my house was surrounded by pots of flowers and big beds of greenery.
I wished I could walk under trees whenever I wished, just because.
But I live in Aria. So I turn my gaze upwards and try to focus on my flying test.

Prompt was “Your character turns 16 and goes to get their dragon-riding license…”