Present Day
Sylvin’s shadow dragged over the formal training grounds causing the gardeners to lift their eyes from their tasks and then to scatter. Sylvin landed neatly and carefully due to his passengers, between the trees, and crouched whilst they dismounted.
He saw the golden-haired King wearing only a sleeveless over robe, hurry out amidst a gathering of servants, to stand on the grass, a grin slowly spreading on his face.
Sylvin preened, letting the sunlight catch on the silver of his scales, and stretching out his full wingspan, before rising onto his rear legs so that his shadow fell across the king, shifting as his forepaws came to rest upon the ground into his man form, crouched. He rose to standing.
“Finally,” Macedius exclaimed, crossing to him. “Magnificent, my Silver Dragon, utterly and completely magnificent. I knew that you would be as beautiful a dragon as you are a man, but imagination and reality are vastly different things.”