Alora's Plotter

Dust Travel was extraordinarily rare, but was essentially a global passport. The Sagemores perfected the method and created their own dust (even patenting its chalk form), which enabled them to freely travel anywhere in the world they needed. It had the bonus of being far more pleasant than Apparition or Portkeys, though a Sagemore's upbringing included regular exposure to many forms of magical transport to ensure they adapt to any situation or in case of emergency.

The circle had to be as neat as possible, and with enough space around them to not have anything crossing the line or getting too close. Yet not too big that there was a lot of empty space. The destination had to be written very clearly, similar to Floo Powder -- but with worse consequences.

Kamari and Alora knew the story well -- of a Great-Uncle several generations back who accidentally dropped himself, and two sacks of water-activated fizzy-bangs, into the middle of an ocean.

Not that she had such pressure now, as the circle and the writing didn't do anything on its own; it required use of a wand; her parents would surely check everything over before anything were to happen. But this was a big moment, regardless. It was a sign of her growing up, to the point that her training as a Sagemore Heir was becoming more focused and no longer just about learning things -- but also doing them.

It meant they believed she had a solid enough foundation now, and was old enough to gradually become more hands on. Kamari knew the basics -- now it was time to be tested on them, and to be entrusted with new tasks. She knew that also meant there could be consequences depending on her actions or words, and that meant failing or making mistakes would also be her own mess to clean up. With their guidance, if necessary, but this was it.

This was the point every Sagemore waited for. It wasn't the same for everything, but her parents clearly thought she was ready for the next step. Everything came full circle (literally), as Zareb handed off the the chalk to his daughter. He gave her an encouraging nod, then waited for her to begin.

Thankfully, it was magic chalk so the uneven ground or scattered leaves meant nothing. They could draw it in mid-air if they wanted to, though it was absurdly more complex to enchant, and yet Irene had done so a few times in the past. The soft ground of a forest was easy work.

---

Zareb did a, overhead, circular wave of his wand -- dirt and similar organic matter of the clearing spun up from the ground and mixed with the dust released from the chalk, encasing them in a tornado for a brief moment. The powerful whooshing and dramatic display was familiar now, but had frightened them in their earlier years.

The ground beneath them glowed white and spiraled into the dust -- then taking it away, to evaporated overhead. It was a fast, loud, and highly magical process that felt to take a while and yet was surely less than 30 seconds.

As the enchanted dust vanished upwards, their new location was revealed.

Unlike most parents, neither Zareb nor Irene made any instinctive move to catch or help her. They were accustomed to this by now, and insisted on letting her fall if the only harm was a few bumps or embarrassment. That was how she learned to pick herself up, and improve her own balance.

But they did stop walking, so Alora wouldn't get left behind while she tried to keep her balance and right herself in time. Sharing a glance, they got into attentive move -- as if watching the outcome of a high-intensity sport / game. Zareb nodded as she made her adjustments, then they applauded as Alora succeeded with a V-pose at the end.

'Well done, very graceful,' Irene said, giving Alora a thumbs up then glanced at her husband. 'What do you think?'

'Hmm, it was a mere pebble. But a graceful finish, I agree.' Zareb eyed his youngest daughter seriously, though there was amusement in his eyes and a quirk of his lips. 'I'd give it a solid seven out of ten.'

'I'll go with an eight out of ten.' Irene held up four fingers a hand. 'That pose was inspired. You've come a long way since landing on your back in puddles.'

They didn't ask Kamari for a score, assuming she was probably so over this little routine by now. But it was for Alora's sake, as to never turn her falls into something negative or shameful. And also not to fear falling, just of course be careful in riskier areas. She'd continue to improve, and they were proud of her for that.

Zareb sighed in exasperation at the sight. While their parents were clearly far more used to such a predicament, this was only Alora's third dragon (not counting the one that flew over Hogwarts). It was Kamari's fifth. Most of those were from a distance or the dragons were more contained. The memories were a big vague, mostly wrapped in awe and a sense of it being more of a dream than reality.

Apart from Kamari's vivid memory of her third dragon when she was nine, which was a juvenile spikey thing that thrashed a muddy village it had been set loose on. Its tail hit a basket of cabbages, which had flung at her and smashed directly above her against the hut wall she was backed against. A close call, and why she hadn't seen much of if for the rest of the trip since then.

Strangely, she couldn't remember why she was out there alone in the first place. She'd been safe enough away from the dragon itself, but close enough that fling debris could reach her. Kamari just remembered that her Aunt had found her in time, and they rushed back to the group on the other side of the village. Alora and Irene hadn't been on that trip. The rest was hazy at best.

But there was no mistaking the dragon they saw now. The best view they'd ever had of one, though perhaps too good a view -- as there were clear scars on its legs and neck, as well as a croak to its roar as if its voice was strained. Nothing seemed fresh, but the dragon was clearly on guard. And it simply refused to budge from the entrance to the mine.