Bek, the youngest Findling candidate ever chosen to stand at the edge, balled his hands into fists and started to rise. 

“I didn’t give you permission to get up, Runt!”

Ghazzel, the oldest Findling candidate called this cycle, placed the bottom of his foot on Bek’s forehead and pushed, forcing Bek back down.

“I don’t need your permission,” Bek hissed. 

The other Findling candidates gathered around the two boys. Charged by the chance to belittle Bek in front of his peers, Ghazzel leaned over Bek, his voice mean. 

“I know your baby’s brain can’t handle it, so I’m going to spell it out for ya.” He placed a palm on his chest in feigned sincerity. “Being more experienced, I mean. It falls to me to help you understand.” 

Bek’s jaw tightened against several inappropriate remarks. 

“You’re just too small to stand at the edge. No bat is gonna call a baby beyond the edge. In fact,” he chuckled to his friends, “I bet you wet yerself before ya even set foot in the Finding Cavern.”

When Ghazzel’s buddies snickered, Bek’s confidence faltered. Having stood at the edge three times already, Ghazzel knew far more about standing than Bek and the others did.

‘What if Ghazzel is right?’ Bek thought. ‘What if I’m too small to become a bat-rider of the upper Splyne?’ 

Ghazzel’s mouth spread into a vicious, pumpkin grin. He reached inside of Bek’s trunk and pulled the younger boy’s harness out. “First off,” Ghazzel said as he unfastened all of the buckles, undoing hours of fine-adjustment work, “your gear doesn’t fit properly.” The older boy dropped the harness on Bek’s head and raised his index finger. “That’s a safety issue.” 

He lifted Bek’s wingsuit out of the trunk and held it up, turning it this way and that and pressing it against his chest to gauge the size. Disgusted, he shook his head. 

“Call for release now and avoid the embarrassment. No one will think any less of you. Heck. Ya might even get called to stand at next year’s Finding.”

Bek looked at his wingsuit, so small compared to Ghazzel’s tall frame. ‘What if he’s right? What if I fail? What if I’m left standing at the edge?’ 

Bek refused to accept failure. He wanted to become one of Sholinar’s great flying protectors more than anything. ‘Ghazzel’s stood three times without being called beyond the edge,’ he thought to himself. ‘He could be wrong.’ 

“And if I stand?” The hard challenge in Bek’s voice surprised everyone.

“You won’t.” Ghazzel jabbed a finger at Bek’s chest to make his point. “Call for release now. Or else.”

Satisfied he’d made his point, Ghazzel threw the wingsuit aside and headed for the dining cavern. 

“Let’s go,” he said to his pals. “I’m starving.” 

Bek gripped his harness with both hands. He looked at his wingsuit, cast down on the stone floor, his anger dissolving caution. 

“You’re scared,” he said.

Ghazzel froze mid-stride, cocking his head, as if he didn’t quite comprehend what he heard.

“You pick on me because I’m small,” Bek continued. “You wish I was weak, but I’m not. You’re worried I’ll be called and that you won’t.”   

Ghazzel stomped back over, his face red with anger. He kicked Bek hard enough to slam him against his neighbor’s trunk. 

Bek’s rough coughs echoed off the cavern’s rock walls. Endo stepped forward and grabbed Ghazzel’s arm, but Ghazzel jerked his arm free with a challenging glare. 

A dark tone entered Ghazzel’s voice. “I’m not afraid of the edge and I’m not afraid of you. You’d better call for release, or you’ll wish you had.” 

“Never,” Bek returned. “I’ll never abandon the edge.” 

“What’s all this?” Headwoman Maire strode across the boys dorm with Bek’s best friend, Driin, close on her heels. 

Ghazzel stepped away, but his glare continued to threaten. 

Bek crawled to his trunk, terrified by what she might have seen or heard. Ghazzel’s unwanted attentions had already gotten Bek into trouble.  Would this latest altercation be enough for her to call for Bek’s release from the Standing?

The middle-aged woman stopped before the two boys. She looked expectantly from one to the other and back again.

“Well?” 

“I–” Bek didn’t want to lie to her, but he didn’t want to push Ghazzel further. 

“Bek misplaced his gloves,” Ghazzel said, his smile too charming. “I was helpin’ him find ‘em.” 

Maire raised a suspicious eyebrow and looked at Bek. 

Bek couldn’t look at her.  He stared at her feet instead. 

Frowning, she scanned the scene, noting the scattered gear and anxious faces of the other Findlings. 

“And did you find them?” she asked. 

Bek held up a glove.  “Yep,” he said in a fake, cheerful voice. “Thanks, Ghazzel.” 

The older boy failed to keep the venom out of his voice. “Don’t forget what I told you.”

Hands hidden from view, Bek squeezed his glove so hard, his fingernails left small, white crescents on his palms.

“May I be excused?”  Ghazzel asked.

Headwoman Maire’s brows knitted into disapproval.

“May I be excused, ma’am?” Ghazzel corrected.

Frowning still, she nodded, shooing the other Findlings out behind him. 

Head bowed to hide his furious tears, Bek stoically set to reordering his gear in his trunk. He told himself over and over he could not fail. Despite his small size, he would prove to Ghazzel, and everyone else who didn’t believe in him, that he was worthy.

“He’s afraid of failing, you know.” Maire’s soft voice disrupted his thoughts.  “Imagine this was the fourth time you stood at the edge. If he isn’t called this time...” She let the thought sink in before giving Bek’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. Her smile was gentle. “If you let your opponents get under your skin, they win. Don’t let him get to you.” 

Bek rested his forearms on the edge of his trunk. He took a deep breath, nodded once and closed the lid. 

“Come on,” she said, mischief shining in her eyes. “I want to show you something.”

She led him to a rough-hewn, rock tunnel that was normally out-of-bounds to Findlings. Bek hesitated, but the Headwoman’s reassuring smile told him he was allowed, just this once. 

After a few minutes of walking, the massive Finding cavern came into view ahead. Excitement surged through Bek as he followed the headwoman in. 

Several large torches burned throughout the lower cavern, but the heights were shrouded in darkness and mist. Bek took a small, brass far-seer out of his pocket. It was a gift from his true-father, Traal, given to acknowledge Bek’s right to stand. 

Bek squinted his left eye through the small opening, bringing the heights into focus. Several riderless bats hung from stone stalactites and other natural structures. Except for a rare adjustment here and there, the creatures looked like magnificent sculptures hewn from the very rock.

The bats arranged themselves per rules established long before men had come to Sholinar’s shores. The large blacks and smaller golden-brown foxes dominated the edges. Bek thought the foxes looked mischievous, like masked rakahoons, while the massive blacks evoked great reverence and a bit of fear. 

One enormous black, tucked neatly into the furthest, shadowy corner of the uppermost tier, captured Bek’s attention. The creature was the biggest bat Bek had ever seen, including Daalren, his true-father’s great black.

Most bat-folk held the strong belief that certain types of bats favored Findlings from specific bloodlines. Bek couldn’t help hoping for such a blessed Blending. Could someone so small be of interest to such a magnificent creature? 

The black opened an emerald eye and looked at Bek. Bek gasped and yanked the far-seer from his eye, worried his intrusion may have upset the bat. Immediate regret warmed his cheeks. How could he have reacted so badly? He wanted to run away and crawl into the deepest hole he could find. Instead, he mumbled an awkward apology to the bats and Headwoman Maire and did his best to hide behind his far-seer.

Sprinkled near the center of the heights were the smoky grays, swift and fiery reds, and one of the elegant and rare ghost bats. Bek’s heart leapt when he saw the white bat. He knew a ghost bat’s presence would foster hope for a successful Finding and put everyone in a good mood.

Bek extended the far-seer to the limit, inspecting every detail of the white beauty. It was the most incredible creature he had ever seen. Larger, even, than the black! 

Bek had heard the whites were the most proficient telepaths. Preferring solitude, the Finding was the only time they would crowd into the heights with their colored brethren, but Bek’s keen eye noticed, even now, the darker bats gave the white more space than they gave each other. 

All candidates hoped beyond all other hope to Blend with a white. Ghost-riders were highly regarded and often held high positions among bat-rider and bat-folk alike. But, being a ghost-rider wasn’t without challenges. For one, the Blending drains the white rider’s skin of color making it nearly impossible to pass unnoticed among the land-walkers, like other bat riders can. Driin had told Bek that many of the land-walkers feared the ghost-riders, believing them to be apparitions or demons and there were recent reports of a rogue, land-walker group hunting the ghost-riders and their bats! 

Bek empathized with the ghost-riders. His small size forced him to work harder than everyone else. As a result, he’d grown strong and able.  Despite it, almost everyone continued to ignore him or treat him like a no good runt. But, to become a ghost-rider! To win the respect of all bat-folk and wing through the night sky to any place he desired! Bek’s breath caught at the possibilities. 

“Do you know where they come from?” The head-woman’s soft voice interrupted Bek’s fantastic visions.

“Weren’t the first generations of bats once Ulví?” 

Maire nodded. “There was a terrible accident. A dark poison spread across the land, killing everything it touched and leaving a lifeless wasteland in its wake. The immortal Ulví, the ancient, magical race who lived in Sholinar long before men came here, combined their magics to neutralize it, but at a terrible cost. Those exposed to the poison began to change. It happened slowly, at first. Most didn’t even realize what was happening until it was too late. Eventually, they became something else. Something different. And despite the efforts of their best healers, few survived. Those that did continued to change until their form resembled something similar to the small bats of the time.”

Bek gazed up at the winged creatures, silent as he thought about the horrors the first generations of bats suffered.

“The first Findlings came from their own Ulví families.”

“But I thought the Ulví all left,” Bek said. “If the bats were Ulví, how come they’re still here?”

Maire looked up at the bats, her eyes filled with emotion. “When the Ulví prepared to leave Sholinar to journey to the West, the ruling elders forbade the bats to go. They believed the bats were tainted and feared the bats could destroy the purity of the Western realms if they went there.”

Her voice thickened. “Some of the Ulví refused to abandon their beloved brothers and sisters. They disobeyed their King and sacrificed everything to stay behind and protect the bats. But Time was not kind. Constant war among the other races and various natural disasters reduced the remaining Ulví to dangerously low numbers. To survive, they were forced to form alliances and take mates from the newly arrived race of men. Together, the Ulví and their new families retreated to the safety of the Splyne to make a new home.”

Maire’s face brightened. “And so you see? We are the children of those first courageous few! We are the descendants of the mythical Ulví themselves! And if you are lucky enough to be called beyond the edge... if you are favored with a Blending and survive your life as a rider, you’ll evolve, just as they have, until you reach this final state,” she raised her hand toward the bats, “and, like your fathers and mothers before you, Blend with a new generation of riders.” 

Bek looked up again, newly terrified. The thought of mutating into something frightening and magnificent and not at all human, scared him. He found himself questioning his greatest dream for the first time in his life. 

He swallowed hard and tried to put the fear out of his mind and not think about it.  He failed.

“We should go,” Maire said. “It’s nearly time for dinner.”

Bek at very little, that night. After dinner, he and the Findling candidates settled into bed. 

Moz, their primary instructor, came into the dorm. He walked the length of the cavern, his baritone voice booming. “Prepare yourselves, Findlings!  The bats grow restless!  The Finding’ll be tomorrow night.  Next night at the latest, I’d wager.” 

Fear and excitement wafted throughout the dorm. None of the candidates slept. They rose from bed the next night and received further instructions. 

“See to your gear!” 

“Stick close to the dorms!”

“You must be ready at a moment’s notice!”  

Bek double and triple checked his gear before seeing to his daily chores. 

The candidates were not allowed to eat; another sign the Finding was imminent. Instead, they were given bitter, protection tea prepared by the Word Witch herself. She spoke strange words over it as it brewed above blue and purple flames. 

Moments after Bek swallowed his tea, pins and needles assaulted the whole of his skin, but the prickling quickly faded to a slight numbing. Almost immediately, he began to notice small changes all around him. The color of the surrounding rock seemed more intense and there were subtleties in the circulating air he hadn’t noticed before. Even the water Bek carried buzzed with color. 

Following strict rituals, they drank the tea several times that night. With each cup, Bek’s eyes grew more sensitive to light and he began to hear things he knew he shouldn’t be able to. He looked at the familiar world around him with renewed interest. It was like he was seeing everything for the first time in his life. 

He was stocking the kitchen wood stores when a soft, persistent whisper wormed into his mind. At first, he tried to swat the nagging sound away, but it buzzed within him like a tiny insect, growing more and more insistent. 

When his tea-addled brain finally grasped what was happening, he dropped the firewood in the middle of the floor.

“The Finding!” he panted. 

Before anyone could respond, Bek ran out of the kitchen. Dashing toward the dorms, he ducked through a narrow passage that ran beneath the Finding cavern. 

Odd chittering noises stabbed in his ears and reverberated in his bones. The odd sensation and pain caused him to stumble and he nearly went down. 

Covering his ears, he sprinted on.

“But... it’s... I’m not...” a boy muttered as Bek ran into the dorm. 

“What if I forget what to do...?” another boy whispered to no one in particular.

Bek shared their uncertainty, but he refused to let it paralyze him. Instead, he fixed the desire to outdo and prove Ghazzel wrong in his mind. 

Panting hard, he stripped his work clothes off to his underthings and threw open his trunk. 

The trunk was empty!

Bek stared into the box, his brain rejecting what his eyes told him. He fell to his knees and thrust his hands into the trunk, searching.  “My gear...” His voice sounded strange. 

Refusing to accept what had happened, he looked around the dorm. His eyes found Ghazzel almost immediately. Fully geared, the older boy leaned against the far wall directly in front of Bek. Dark eyes gleamed with smug victory as he saluted Bek with his index and middle fingers.

Bek launched himself at Ghazzel, fully intent on breaking every bone in the older boy’s body. Udo grabbed his wrist, stopping him. 

“No, Bek! You’ll be removed from standing permanently! That’s what he wants.” 

Bek stared up at his friend, blinking back tears of rage and defeat. Ghazzel had won. There was no way Bek could stand. He didn’t even have gloves. 

“The clothing stores!  Everyone’ll be in the kitchens, helping out!” Udo thrust a spare breather into the smaller boy’s hand. “I kept it filled... just in case.” He glared at Ghazzel. “Go!  There’s little time!” 

Bek gripped the Udo’s arm, conveying gratitude that words never could. 

He turned and ran as fast as his bare feet could carry him. 

Udo guessed right. No one was minding the stores. Bek’s frenzied rummaging quickly located a full Findling’s outfit; insulated wingsuit, fur-lined gloves and boots, and a helmet with goggles. The gear was a couple sizes too big, but it would have to do. 

Securing Udo’s breather to the suit, Bek donned everything but the gloves, which he tethered to his wrists with adjustable ties.  He found twine to help secure the gear close to his body in key places and left the wings unsecured for his return back to the dorms. 

A strange whispering carried through the tunnels on a soft draft. The bats had gone aloft!

Bek was out of time and he had no harness!  With no way to get a new one from the leathersmiths, he turned and sprinted back to the dorm.  Somehow, he would have to make it work. 

The Findlings, lined up in pairs behind four instructors, were just filing out of the dorm.  Four more instructors were positioned behind them.  The Word Witch, chanting her strange words, seemed to glide ahead of them all. 

An impatient instructor Bek didn’t know well hurried him into line. Taking advantage of his small size, he inserted himself between two larger candidates, whispering thanks to the bats he wasn’t inspected more closely. 

They climbed and climbed and climbed. All of them were breathing hard by the time they reached the uppermost level of the Finding cavern. 

He glanced left at the cavern. Except for the flickering glow from below, it now stood empty.  To the right loomed a large, black opening framed by two massive, wood doors and two heavily shielded torches. 

Bek’s heavy breathing quickened as the reality of the situation settled over him. He looked at his fellow Findlings and saw the same fear he felt reflected on their faces. Some might perish this night, though he prayed the bats would keep them all safe. Some would be left standing atop the Finding cliff, disappointed, but alive. Only a favored few would never have to enter this cavern, or any cavern, by foot again, unless they chose to. 

Bek wondered which was worse, death or disappointment? In his mind, nothing short of a Blending would do. 

Hundreds of eyes followed their progress along the final passage. All bat-folk, regardless of age, were welcome to attend. In addition, each of Sholinar’s ruling families were represented. There were men and women here who possessed power and grace Bek could not begin to fathom.  He tried to hide behind the other candidates, hoping no one would notice how little he was and remove him. 

Bek exhaled with relief as he walked through the massive opening onto the large, flat cliff beneath a moonless sky, but the awesome power of the surrounding cliffs mixed with the howling updrafts instantly made his mouth go dry.  He felt smaller than ever.  Swallowing hard, he forced himself to continue forward, one terrified step at a time. 

Four Findlings froze, unable to continue. They were immediately taken back to the passage. Another Findling fainted. To Bek’s horror, she fell forward and disappeared over the edge before anyone could reach her.

Bek glanced back at the passage. How inviting it looked! He could still call for release. It wasn’t too late.

He scolded himself harshly and fought to get control of his fear. He turned his focus to the edge and continued forward. 

Despite the dark, he could see well. With each step, the edge shrank in front of him, revealing a vast world that promised possibility and wonder beyond anything he could imagine. A line of runes, carved deep into the cliff floor, one step from the edge, glowed white in the starlight. 

‘The Standing Line,’ he thought. 

Bek fastened the large wing between his legs and secured his arm-wings to his torso.  When he finished, he placed his toes just behind the inner edge of the Standing Line and waited. 

Nothing happened for a long time. Doubt began to whisper in Bek’s mind. Had he forgotten to do something? Was he standing incorrectly? Should he say or do something to indicate he was ready?

Suddenly, a strange fluttering sound penetrated the howling winds from somewhere beyond his enhanced vision. The flapping intensified quickly, building to a disorienting frenzy that reverberated off the rock walls all around them. 

The bats!  

Adrenalin surged through his small body. Remembering his training, he whistled in a low, nearly inaudible tone, while slowly twisting his body left then right then left then right. 

The bats, led by the white, dove at them with frightening speed. An instant before impact, they banked sharply and circled above the cliff, just barely clearing the tops of the Findlings’ heads. 

Bek stepped back, bracing himself against the strong wake of their swift passage. 

In the space of a single breath, the bats disappeared back into the darkness, leaving a void behind them. Bek sensed waves of expectation radiating outward from the Findlings and gathered spectators alike.  Even the winds seemed to quiet with anticipation. 

Exchanging a wary glance with his Findling neighbor, Bek held his breath, listening hard, searching the night. Without warning, a series of rapid flashes of movement came at him, ducking away from collision at the very last moment and back into the darkness.  Several startled yelps came from the other Findlings. 

Bek stepped back in reflex, but quickly corrected his stance.  His eyes darted to each movement, too quick to hold. Though nothing physical ever touched him, an unseen force struck him each time a form flashed before him. Bek nudged closer to the edge, hoping to get a better view of the bats’ spectacular aerobatics. 

In his peripheral vision, he saw his neighbor step forward and fall, face first, beyond the edge. The howling winds swallowed the Findling’s screams instantly. 

Bek looked around. Several candidates were missing now. He wondered who had been called beyond the edge and who had chosen release. 

His heart tightened with worry. Would he be one of the unlucky ones left standing at the edge? He noticed Ghazzel standing some distance away.  If they both were not chosen...

The older boy turned. When his eyes connecting with Bek’s, they registered surprise, then anger, then hate. Bek saluted Ghazzel and turned back to the edge. 

He said a silent prayer.  ‘Please let me called.’

Just then, a queer rippling licked at Bek’s mind. He reached up and tried to smooth the sensation with his palm, worried it was an attack of vertigo.  

‘Do you fear the edge?’ The voice, a mixture of brass and liquid velvet, growled inside of his thoughts. Stunned by the strangeness of having a voice that was not his own in his head, he scanned the sky, looking for the source. 

“Yes!” he shouted above the winds.  “But I trust it also!”

‘Will you embrace all that lies beyond the edge, be it good or ill, now and forever?’

“If that be the will of Ghraeho’aal!” he recited. And he meant it, with every fiber of his being.  

‘Very well. As one of the Be’drihem, forever forsaken, I call you beyond the edge!!’

Bek did not hesitate. One adrenaline-fueled step forward, a planting of his left foot, and he jumped, as far out into the open air as he could.

At first, everything slowed. Bek heard nothing save the tearing winds that sounded like the earth roaring her defiance at him. Then, the earth reached up and grabbed hold of him, pulling him down with a force only an entire world can muster. Never in his life had he felt so heavy! 

The realization there was nothing to grab hold of, nothing to slow his fall, struck him. He panicked. He could not stop his fall. He could not go back. He’d committed his very life to the expanse beyond the edge and now only two roads lay before him. Death or Blending.

Bek kept his arms extended and ankles together as he was taught to do in the wind tunnels. After a count of five, he slowly spread his feet apart, feeling his drag increase as the lower wing filled with air.

Tearing through the freezing updrafts, more unseen vibrations pummeled him from every angle. 

Mere inches separated him from the sharp, jutting rocks that ripped past. Bek oriented himself so he was diving head first with his belly pointed toward the cliff face. Arms out, he lifted his chin and used his body to cup the air and slow his descent more. 

The distance between him and the wall of rocks grew. But his terror mounted as the ground features below sharpened significantly. He continued to count slowly in his head. By his calculation, he had seconds before the broken boulders below ended him. 

A scream was just forming in his throat when a massive form collided with him, snapping his head forward as two thick, velvet blankets wrapped around him.

He grabbed hold of the harness for dear life, winding his arms and legs through. When he was secure, the bat unfurled its wings with a crack like sharp thunder.

Bek clung to the harness as the bat winged upward. Beyond the Finding cliff. Beyond the highest peaks of the Splyne. Into the heavens. Exhilaration unlike anything he’d ever experienced flooded through him. Surely no one had ever climbed so high! 

The bat’s flawless white fur reflected a rainbow of colors that sparkled in the starlight like diamonds upon a smooth lake, only far more perfect. Bek’s heart threatened to jump right out of his chest when he realized what he was seeing and what it meant. The ghost-bat had called him!  Called him over all of the other Findlings! 

Overwhelming joy constricted his lungs.  He sucked the pressurized oxygen in from the breather in short gasps.

They broke above the clouds. Bek hooted with delight and nearly lost his grip.  

‘Where is your harness, Findling?!’

Too scared to let go, the breather kept Bek from responding verbally, but the memory of Ghazzel’s many treacheries played vividly in his thoughts. 

The bat tensed above him. ‘You knowingly put yourself in danger?!’ 

The reprimand sliced through Bek’s mind, but it was the bat’s big, enraged eyes that crushed him like nothing had before. Bek deflated into a small, frightened boy once more. 

Snorting frustration, the bat continued; softer, but still angry. ‘If we begin and fail to complete the Blending, we are both lost.’ 

Images of broken bats and men, scattered upon the rocks, flashed in Bek’s mind. ‘If not in body, then in mind.’ 

The bat adjusted course. ‘If we do not begin, I am lost. Having selected you, I cannot Blend with another. If we fail, I will die.’

Eyes closed in shame, Bek buried his face in the bat’s soft chest. Had he known the danger, he would’ve called for release, even at the last moment, despite the torment he was certain to suffer at Ghazzel’s hands. But there was no way he could have known. How candidates perform despite limited training was an integral part of this first test.

The white bat sighed defeat. ‘I will take you back.’

Overcome with a deep desire to keep the white bat from harm, even if it meant he must sacrifice himself, Bek ignored his fear of falling, ripped the breather from his face, and shouted.  “NO!!” 

He gripped the harness and hoisted himself up until he was clinging face to face with the magnificent bat. “You’ll not sacrifice yourself for me!  I’m small. I can tuck myself under your harness and wind my legs more. I don’t need a harness!” He replaced the breather roughly, defiance igniting his ice-blue eyes.

Amused pride transformed the bat’s predatory orbs. After several long moments, it seemed to come to a decision. 

‘Be certain you understand the risks. The Blending will hurt you far more than normal because of your adjusted position. We’ll need to climb higher to give us enough time and pray I possess strength enough to stop our descent once we have finished.’

Bek swallowed hard and nodded, directing thoughts of encouragement and absolute faith and trust toward the magnificent bat, while terrified he’d be the one to fail them both. Again. 

He wriggled under the bat’s harness and rewound his legs and arms. When he indicated he was ready, mighty wings powered them skyward. 

The world beneath faded beneath the clouds. They leveled at a very high altitude. ‘I ask you once more. Are you certain you wish to attempt the Blending? Once we begin, there will be no turning back. We will succeed or die.’

Bek took a deep breath. ‘I have never been more sure of anything in my life,’ he answered in his mind. ‘If you’ll still have me, I mean.’

The bat folded its wings about him in answer, pulling him close. Like before, the earth grabbed hold and dragged them down. They fell, heads first, picking up speed with each passing moment. 

Bek cried out at the explosive pain of several needles stabbing into his neck and stomach. It forced the breath out of him and he gasped like a fish out of water, sucking in air in small gulps. Soon, his vision grew blackened at the edges. 

A tugging that ended in a fraying sensation began in his fingertips and toes, numbing as it worked up his arms and legs and spreading throughout his entire body. His discomfort intensified quickly, while his reserves of strength and substance diminished in equal measure. 

A whirlwind of thoughts bombarded his mind. ‘The bat is trying to kill me! It’s decided to abandon me to Blend with another! How long will it take for my life to drain away?’

Instinctive self preservation took over. Bek panicked. He fought the bat, but the massive creature held him with powerful wings. 

‘Calm yourself, boy! You must not fight me! We do not have enough time!’

Thick, hot liquid flowed into Bek, filling his entire body. Another awareness, separate and completely foreign in form and feeling, overlaid itself upon his own. It was the bat, but Bek’s mind interpreted it as if it was his own. 

Distant whispers he couldn’t hear well enough to understand seasoned the odd echoing in his mind. 

‘I am called Lhyria.’

Excruciating pain raged across their newly formed connection, reverberating intensifying hurt between them.

‘There is no time to do this gently. You must find a way to stay conscious and survive!’ 

Bek wasn’t sure if he nodded, but he meant to. 

Through their strengthening connection, an understanding of the Blending process solidified. Despite overwhelming fear and pain, he surrendered completely to her, focusing his entire being on staying with her. 

Lhyria’s fear scared him more than anything. She hid it well and kept it strictly controlled, but through the intimacy of their connection, he felt it.  They’d closed the distance to the ground too quickly. If they didn’t finish soon, they would not have enough time to stop their fall.

Bek allowed Lhyria to reach deep into his core awareness. With great care, she dislodged the roots of his essential being and pulled them into herself. His entire body clenched in a fierce spasm from the uncomfortable stretching that occurred between them. 

The cumulative memories of countless minds flowed into him, blending with his own memories, as Lhyria began the delicate process of weaving his essence with the others she harbored. The combined memories of over two hundred minds were too vast to comprehend in the space of time it took for the Blending. Bek saw events and faces; too many to count and soon it became nothing more than a blur of color and emotion.

After several moments, the Blending was complete. Lhyria released Bek’s consciousness and retracted her needles.  Do you have strength enough to hold on a little longer, ghost-rider?’ Her voice was weak.

Bek’s mind reeled. He barely clung to consciousness, but a faint smile transformed his face at the sound of his new title. He was her rider. He would do anything she asked of him. 

Every muscle in his body trembled, but he gripped the harness with all of his might. ‘I do.’ his thoughts croaked. 

Lhyria unfurled her wings. 

Bek gasped. The ground was too close! 

Lhyria stretched her wingspan to the limit. A sharp pop in her right wing echoed stinging pain that sliced through Bek’s elbow. The shock of it, cleared his confused mind and he realized he was experiencing everything via two distinct perspectives.

Lhyria screamed agony. Desperate, she angled their descent and made for the lowest spot she could find. 

Bek’s weakening muscles caused his hand to slip from the harness. 

Lhyria shrieked again. 

Clinching his teeth against pain and fatigue, he grabbed hold again. 

Lhyria’s body shook from the force of her will doing battle against gravity. Terrified he might lose her if he didn’t do something, Bek prepared himself to let go. That’s when he saw a lake out of the corner of his eye. 

Reading his thoughts, she angled again, hoping to make the water.   

Terror built upon terror, in both of their hearts. They weren’t going to make it.  Both shrieked defiance at the earth. 

At the last moment, near the trees, a slight updraft filled her wings, bumping them skyward. It was small, but it was enough. They crashed through the upper limbs of the trees surrounding the lake, but they made it to the water. 

Bek let go. Lhyria’s screams were the last thing he heard as the water closed over him. 

The cold shocked him, but the thought of Lhyria in the water drove him to action. Finding reserves he didn’t know he had, he cut the twine free, shrugged out of his boots, gloves, helmet, and wingsuit, and kicked to the surface. 

Lhyria was closer to the edge than he was, but struggling. 

“I’m coming!” He swam to her. 

Despite her struggle to stay afloat, her damaged wing dragged behind her, pulling her down.

“Lhyria! NO! NOOOOO!”

They were both exhausted and she was too big for him to ferry to the edge on his own. They both went under. 

Desperate, he shot to the surface and grabbed her face, trying to force her back up, kicking for all his worth. 

“NO, LHYRIA!  PLEASE!!”

A shriek in the sky above answered his plea. Five bats winged into view. Their riders dove into the waters around them. Four swam to Lhyria.  The fifth swam to Bek, pulling him gently away from the white bat. 

Several voices whispered in Bek’s mind, but his tired brain was too focused on Lhyria to listen. 

“I’ve got’cha Bek.” Bek’s eyes focused on the female rider. Her face was the color fresh snow, while her eyes swirled with vibrant purples and blues. 

“Lhyria!” he struggled to reach her. 

‘We’ve got her Bek,’ a male voice echoed in his mind. ‘She’s safe.’ 

‘Sleep now, Bek. Sleep.’ The woman’s soothing voice washed over him and he slipped into darkness. 

He woke hours later, squinting against the high sun. He had been placed on a soft cushion, at the edge of the trees, near a large fire. 

“Lhyria!” His head spun and his body throbbed with pain, but he forced himself up to his elbows, searching for her. 

‘Well...’  The heavily muscled Driix came around the fire. He held a plate heaped with food. ‘He’s awake!’ 

Surprise passed through Bek’s eyes. He didn’t remember meeting Driix, so how did he know this man?! 

Driix knelt beside Bek, concern coloring his face. 

“Hey, what’s this?” said the female who rescued him. ‘Her name is Gheen,’Bek thought to himself. She sat beside him and put a reassuring hand on his arm.

Shame threatened to overwhelm him when he saw Lhyria’s prone form on the beach. Her wing was tended, but she didn’t move. 

“Is she...?” his voice cracked with concern and guilt.

“She’ll be fine,” Gheen said. “You’ll be winging again before you know it.”

Looking at Lhyria, he realized how insignificant and stupid his battle with Ghazzel had been. She was the most majestic, perfect creature ever. “I almost lost her. How could I be so selfish?”

The older, thinner Jhurl came over. ‘Yes. That was quite a stunt you pulled there, lad. One, I suspect, you’ll receive a reprimand for. And one they’ll be talking about for years.’ He grinned. ‘It’s a hard lesson. But its one we all learn it at some point. You’ve just learned it a little sooner than most.’

Gheen chuckled, ‘Oh, the stories I could tell!’ Several images flashed in Bek’s still-reeling mind, too quick to decipher. Blushing, Driix snorted. 

“Wait! I can hear you! In my mind!  All of you!”

‘Well of course you can, Bek.’ Lhyria opened her cobalt-blue eyes. In the dark, Bek hadn’t noticed they were blue, but now, they were the most amazing blue in all of Sholinar. ‘You are my rider.’

‘And you needn’t worry about Ghazzel.’  Gheen added.

“Was he called?” Bek tried to sound supportive, but he dreaded the answer.

“Are you kidding? No self-respecting bat would have him. After what he pulled?” Driix’s heavy baritone hissed. “Endangering a bat and potential rider is a serious thing. You don’t play games around a bat. Period. Ghazzel’s stood enough times to know that.”

‘Traal was so angry, he ferried Ghazzel to the lowerlands himself.’ Jhurl’s violet eyes sparked mischief. ‘Ghazzel’s been volunteered to support the Horvath.’ 

Bek swallowed hard. Ghazzel would have a very hard life.

Unable to shake the feeling he’d be seeing Ghazzel again, Bek stood and limped over to Lhyria. Despite the pain, he threw his arms around her massive head and cried grateful tears. He looked at the other bats hanging in the trees nearby and realized he was part of something, now. Something big. Something important. And from this day forward, he would never be alone.  

He wiped tears of joy from his eyes, noticing his hands for the first time since the Blending. 

They were white.