Chapter Text
The first time she meets him is pure chaos. Crates of dragon feed toppled over, dragons let loose from their stables, hay strewn all over the compound— He crashes through her office door with some of the stuff still stuck in his hair before turning to lock it, Abyll and some others on the other side shouting and running past, clearly incensed.
He breathes a sigh of relief and leans back on the door before freezing like a deer in headlights, gaze locked with hers. Zulay stills her pen, just about to sign an agreement to some property she had bullied the owners into drafting. In the silence, she thinks she can almost hear his heartbeat drum to adrenaline— and fear.
Good . He should be scared.
“I wasn’t expecting company today.”
“I’m uh- uhm.” The young man with the messy long white hair looks everywhere but at her, cheeks flushed pink. She crosses her hands on her desk, one brow raised. The fleeting thought was that there was no way he was from Down City. Everyone knew better than to waltz into her private office uninvited.
“I’m here for a uh- flag?”
It takes her far too long to catch his meaning, for good reason.
“A flag.” She repeats, voice level.
“Yes, uh- ma'am.” He answered, back still plastered onto the door.
Digging through her drawer she pulls out a tiny purple banner with the Dragon Eye Insignia, tossing it at him. He catches it easily with one hand. She notices.
“Is that all?”
“Yes! Thank you!” He says, looking extremely pleased for someone who had trapped themselves with the owner of the compound they had just trashed. It’s cute, she still admits to herself.
She lets him go, slipping away from whence he came with more grace than she had expected of him.
---
Weeks later, she receives a small package with a note written with handwriting more elegant than most of the mail she received from her members, clients and partners. An apology, addressed to her:
“To Zulay Paynn, Leader of the fearless Dragon Eyes,
I sincerely apologise for intruding on your compound and causing inconvenience. Attached is the flag I took by mistake.
Signed,
Word”
Zulay chuckles, unfurling the newly washed piece of cloth. How thoughtful. It had been a spare, the usual ones were hidden for children over at another building as part of an initiation test for those wanting to join the Down City crews.
"I gave it to you, silly."
---
Word on the street was that a new racer who had come from nowhere was brutalising people on the track. Zulay knew, watching rookie and even seasoned racers from her crew return to the compound with more than just their pride wounded.
“White haired bastard has been ruthless on the tracks and crawling his way up.” Abbyl supplied, following her gaze. “He has also been seen using some weird homemade gear and equipment too. Emryss got severe burns from catching the end of a whip.”
“Burns?” She asked, curious. "He'll be kicked out by the race marshals by the end of the month at the rate he's going."
Too violent. Not sporting enough in dragon racing. Current mechanical gear and equipment was already heavily criticised by race officials and the general public as cheating, though growing in popularity within some groups. That Word was still allowed to race was only because he was still starting out in the unimportant rookie races.
The Academy kept a watchful eye on making sure races were mostly about racer and dragon. The Big 3 corporations that made everything and anything were, of course, lobbying against all this. Zulay sensed a paradigm shift in the racing community in the motions. She had to keep a Dragon's Eye out for the opportunity to take advantage of it.
"I'd give him 2 weeks tops." Abyll winces as some other crew members helped drag a rookie sporting a serious black eye off to the compound medic bay. “For the better.”
“He sent you and the boys on a merry chase, last I remember.”
“Ugh, don’t remind me. The cleanup took hours. Even worse was stopping the boys from seeking him out themselves. They were so ready to rip him apart.”
She hears the question in his statement. “He’s an interesting one.”
“That’s it? That’s shallow, coming from you Boss.”
“Awww Abyll, but it’s been so long since a pretty one warmed my bed for me. You understand.” She teased, enjoying the scowl he sent her way.
“No, I don’t. He let 10 of our dragons out rampaging through the compound. Two of them decided to raid the canteen.”
Zulay waved him off. Though her compound had been a mess, it had added a little bit of excitement to her day. A small price to pay for a change in pace as her life as Dragon Eyes Leader grew more mundane. Who knew taking over the city involved so much paperwork?
“Anyway, I’d appreciate it if you could help me register Addyr and I for the next Remus race.” She said, walking back to her office.
“Remus? But that’s the rookie race- Oh.” His scowl deepened. “ Zulay, you can’t be serious.”
“His monobrow is quite cute, don’t you think so?”
She laughs when he groans, muttering about how her surname should have warned him away from befriending her.
---
She enjoys the way the rookie, Word, jolts in surprise and flushes pink when she greets him at the start gates. She relishes his squawk of disbelief when she zooms ahead of him, her lithe dragon making quick work of the obstacle course they had raced on years ago.
“Catch me if you can!” She yells into the wind, barely minding the other racers who had given her ugly looks at the start.
Abbyl had pulled a few strings to get her into this race, seasoned and headed to the Academy as she was. That it was a forgettable rookie track where first place meant nothing helped. Plus, her growing reputation drew more spectators, more ticket sales. It was win-win in the organiser's eyes.
Still, she pushes Addyr into a speed that has her heart racing. She was bait afterall.
---
She finishes first. He finishes second.
The sting of his whip on her arm exhilarated her more than it hurt.
Interesting times were ahead.
---
She pins up a few new newspaper clippings onto her cork board before standing back to mull over all the documents. Saurcom was suffering huge losses to competitors from being slow to respond to providing better customer service and warranty for their gear products. Leviacorp and Reptilico were laughing in their piles of money.
She wanted all that they had. And then some.
“There’s nothing much on him. No idea where he came from up till he worked in some packing facility in Work Town for a bit 3 months ago. Started racing 2 months ago. Odd part time jobs here and there whilst racing, some short gaps of unemployment where he shells out money for mechanical parts and tools.” Abyll reads to her from a file that was too thin for an increasingly digitised city.
“He must’ve been making those fancy toys of his during downtime whilst starving. Those factories are notorious for underpaying and rookie races are infrequent whilst not paying well. Parts aren’t cheap through official means and I doubt he’d have the favour of black market merchants.” Abyll whistles, flicking through the receipts for gear parts he had copied. “He’s currently living in a shabby apartment, but that’s a new development from recent race winnings.”
“That explains the breaking and entering three months ago. The street strays must’ve teased him.”
“I still can’t believe an adult would take on a dare from a child.”
“Probably saw it as some sort of initiation activity into the group.” Zulay half-mused, largely focused on evaluating the list of Dragon City Security officials she could either pay or blackmail into keeping mum about the crew’s next job.
“There’s nothing on his past, but there is a funny log of notices from his landlord that dragons aren’t allowed in the apartment. He’s paid the fine… 2 times now. 3rd strike and he’s out. You’re probably right about him there, the street kids mentioned how strangely he behaved in their hideout. A social outcast before and even after he moved in with them. Sticks to his dragon like glue.”
“Hm. Keep watch for when he either gets kicked out of the races or from the apartment. We’ll move in then.”
“You want to recruit him?" Abyll asks in disbelief. "Is he really that valuable to us? Sure, he fights well and makes some interesting gadgets. So do a bunch of other strays trying to survive. Plus, the Big 3 will likely wave more Drakkals than we can ever offer in the future, why would he work for us?”
Zulay thought back to how he moved on the track, how he fought. Quick and dangerous with a fighting style foreign to her and unlike anything she had seen from the other coloured crews. She had been hard pressed to stay on top of her dragon. The unpredictability had given him an advantage, and it almost seemed like he was familiar with the Dragon Eye’s fighting styles. She had mixed and matched what basics she knew from the other crews and he had evaded them just the same. Moved to respond to them.
He couldn’t be from Down City. The crews guarded their secrets closely, there was no way they would ever allow someone to hop between them, much less young new recruits. How did he wind up here then? Dirt poor and with only his dragon as his confidant?
And then there were the mysterious gadgets he owned. They glowed bright with his dragon’s mag energy. She had never seen anything like it on the tracks. Most of the stuff dragons used was either just armour or mechanical and powered by battery packs. Bulky, heavy, inelegant.
“It doesn’t sound like he has anyone else. Who knows? He could turn out to be an asset.”
“Of course, of course. Dragon Eyes, home of lost causes and strays.” Abyll shuts the file and opens another tiredly, too used to Zulay’s impulsiveness at recruitment. Though it usually worked in their favour somehow. “Anyway, update on Sir Krytt Radaar. From my sources he’s apparently laundering money through some public property development…”
---
The boys shove Word onto his knees in front of her and he stills his struggling only when he sees her. Interesting.
She scowls. Chastises the boys for being too rough. Apologises to Word for roughing him up for a conversation. Compliments him for his gear like she did after that race she had won. Disses the marshalls for their harsh judgement.
A small ruse, easily woven having spun one many times before. Establishing rapport always made work easier, made people more malleable to her will. She was the friend in a sea of thieves and other no good crooks.
Kicked out by both the races and his apartment she offered him a trade. A place to stay, some resources for gear development, some work hours where he would be paid more than he was used to. All in exchange for anything and everything he would ever build.
Abyll had called her reckless. People in Down City called her fearless. It was a gamble, offering such a large hand to someone she knew so little about. A nobody.
He accepts, the blush on his cheeks still present even as he steps out of the office on his own, in a daze.
Zulay ponders about him long after he leaves.
It's been a while, she thinks with a smile, since anyone as fascinating as him showed up in Down City.
How exciting.