FSE

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“Hold there a moment, rider!"

Aaron felt Jes pull on the leads, causing him to twist sideways as he tried to stop before reaching the edge of the island. Much as he didn't want to learn to fly by jumping off the edge, tumbling off the edge would be even worse.

It took longer than he'd have liked to come to a stop, but once he did, he happily walked away from the edge, getting solid ground under his feet.

“What is it, sir?" Jes called out as she climbed down from the saddle.

Aaron turned to look towards the speaker; there was a man standing there looking unremarkable save for his very out-of-place clothes; whereas most of the people on the island wore clothes chosen for a combination of warmth, durability, and ease of cleaning, this man was dressed in formal attire. Between that and the handful of papers he was carrying, Aaron suspected him to be the inspector, an impression that was immediately confirmed.

“I'm Jack, senior clerk at headquarters. I'm here to perform an inspection of this aerie and wanted to ask you a few questions about the incident that just occurred."

“And you couldn't have said something before I was taking off?"

It was probably for the best that the inspector ignored her outburst. “Are incidents like that common? We at headquarters were under the impression that limiting the number of males had eliminated that sort of thing."

Jes shrugged. “Any time you've got more than one male wyvern in an area there's a chance of incidents like that. And I'm sure your list will confirm we've three males right now. But such incidents are not common; we've got enough female wyverns that the males rarely try and fight over them."

Jack looked down at the papers he was holding. “You can be sure I will be letting headquarters know about this. Do you have a flight authorization?"

“Authorization? For regular training operations?"

“All flights, manned or unmanned, require an authorization."

“Never heard of it. You should probably talk to the Flightmaster about it. Besides, the wyverns are large and powerful; I doubt many could stop them if they decided to go for a flight alone and I doubt you'll have much luck convincing them to get an authorization." She gave Aaron's neck a pat. “That's part of why we strive to make them want to stay."

Jack snorted. “You can be sure I'll be talking to the Flightmaster about this." He eyed Aaron. “I should make sure your beast is in good condition while I'm here as well."

Aaron heard Jes sigh. “If you must."

The inspector circled Aaron, staring at his wyvern body intently. Aaron returned the favour, not taking his eyes from Jack. He didn't trust the inspector in the slightest and wasn't willing to allow him near without supervision. The way Jack avoided his gaze suggested the scrutiny was not subtle.

“Well," the inspector said after circling Aaron a few times, “no visible problems at least. Now to check the harness."

Jes put her hand on Aaron's shoulder. “Stay calm. He shouldn't take much longer." Between the tone and volume of her voice, Aaron didn't think she was talking to him. Which made sense; wyverns were not exactly known for their conversational abilities.

“It'll take as long as it takes," the inspector retorted. He walked up and started tugging on the various straps that made up the harness. Aaron squirmed as parts of his body were pulled this way and that; unlike when Jes had put it on him originally, the inspector demonstrated no grasp of how the harness was supposed to be fastened and seemed to be just messing around with it.

“Ha! What's this? One of your straps is loose."

“It's supposed to be. We aren't using the equipment that attaches there so there isn't anything to attach it to."

The inspector took a few steps than yanked on another strap. “And this one? Shouldn't it be drawn up tight?"

“It was. I literally just watched you undo it not two minutes ago."

“Don't talk back to me like that. I'm going to have to talk to your Flightmaster about this. Don't you go anywhere." And with that, the inspector turned and stormed off.

Aaron heard Jes sigh again. “At least I know the Flightmaster has more sense. Once this is all dealt with we can finally be on our way."

She was just finishing settling the last strap back into place when Aaron saw the inspector returning, this time with the Flightmaster in tow. Aaron nudged Jes with his head, apparently harder than intended given the way she stumbled.

“Hey! What was that— Oh, he's back."

The inspector and Flightmaster came to a stop facing them.

“I seem to be seeing a lot of you today, Jes." The Flightmaster said.

“Indeed, sir."

“The inspector here tells me you were going to go flying with an unfastened strap. That's not a report I can take lightly."

“It was fine until he started adjusting it."

“Really?"

The inspector glared at her. “She lies. Why would I do that?"

Aaron bit his tongue, holding back a reply. But only briefly before remembering he couldn't actually say anything at the moment anyway.

“I see you've got the harness all in place, including the wayward strap. Let's take a look and see if anything's wrong."

“Yes, sir," Jes said.

The inspector and the Flightmaster began circling Aaron. It didn't last long; moments later, the inspector stopped, pointing at a steel ring on the harness.

“Look, she's got nothing at all attached to that point."

The Flightmaster shook his head; “That's an attachment point for the chest plate. We haven't used those for, what, forty years? Even when we did, we left it off for basic training exercises."

It was news to Aaron that they'd ever given wyverns chest armour; while he hasn't gotten the training on harnesses that riders did, he'd understood that they focused on evasion and staying out of range instead of being armoured. Of course, he hasn't been working with them for forty years, either.

“And that strap is loose as well," the inspector said, pointing.

“Well, yes. We only use the equipment that attaches to it for specialized missions."

The inspector could be heard mumbling under his breath and, for a moment, nothing was said as they continued their inspection. Then the inspector dated forward, grabbing a strap near Aaron's tail and yanking on it, causing Aaron to yelp. “See? Loose!"

The Flightmaster shook his head and sighed. “It is rapidly apparent that you do not have the familiarity you believe you do. Jes, return to your training, we are done here." He gave Aaron's flank a friendly slap. “I'm confident Aaron here is in competent hands."

“Yes, sir."

“I shall be mentioning this in my report," the inspector said, but he did not try to remain as the Flightmaster left.

“I don't doubt it," the Flightmaster replied. Then both were out of sight.

“Well, I'm glad that's over. Shall we get back to it?" She asked Aaron.

Aaron's joy at the departure of the inspector lasted only a few moments until he remembered what they'd been about to do before being interrupted. Flight. He had no idea how to fly, but actual wyverns did. They started flying quite young, even. Jes might accept him being untrained, but he doubted it would even occur to her that he had never actually flown before.

He stared at the edge of the floating island as Jes climbed onto his back once more, his heart pounding in his chest. It wasn't until she motioned him forward a second time that he even started walking towards it. His steps were slow and unsteady, the edge of the island getting closer with every one. He eyed it cautiously, as though it were hiding something.

Although he never actually stopped, it seemed that he was not going fast enough for Jes. She prodded him with one foot. “Go already! If I didn't know better I'd think you were afraid of heights or something."

He looked back over his shoulder at her, stepping forward a little faster, but not too much so. She pointed forward at the island's edge. “Go."

He started walking a bit faster but curved his path so he wasn't heading directly towards the edge. This was not tolerated for long; a jerk on his harness put him back on track to reach the edge of the platform.

“I swear, for as calm as you were before, you've sure become intransigent now. I almost wish I knew what was up with you, but I'd rather not get any more involved in whatever shenanigans the Flightmaster is involved in. So let's just get this done so we can go back to your stall to relax and forget about whatever issues are about."

He did not start moving faster in response to her words, but he didn't expect that she was surprised, either. Wyverns were not known for their ability to be persuaded through speech. For a couple of minutes, he continued plodding towards the edge of the island, his eyes becoming more and more fixated on it. Then, when he was only a dozen feet from it and every footstep took a force of will to make at all, he felt something jab him in the base of his tail.

Without even thinking about it, he leapt forward, trying to get away from whatever was jabbing him. Then, suddenly, there was no ground beneath his feet. Looking down, the ground was visible far below. With a loud yelp noise, he desperately beat his wings, watching as the ground approached all too quickly.

“The hell are you doing? Fly already!" Jes said, holding tightly to him as he flopped around in a manner more suited to a fish on dry land that a wyvern in the air. “How the hell do you not know how to fly? And how did you even get to the island? You sure as hell didn't hatch here!"

Aaron barely paid attention to her words; even if he had been in a position where he could have answered her, there were far more pressing matters to attend to. Like the way the ground was rushing up towards them. He continued beating his wings despite the growing ache in his shoulders and twisted in the air as he tried to get them to do their job.

How did wyverns fly? He had seen them do so, many times. He'd even been carried by them occasionally; there weren't many alternatives when it came to getting onto a floating island. What Aaron had never done, however, was paid attention to how they went about it. As far as he had ever noticed, they simply spread their wings and floated through the air like gigantic, featherless birds.

In a desperate move, since the ground wasn't approaching any slower, he did his best to mimic this, thrusting his aching wings outwards and trying to freeze in place. The experience was not much different than what he imagined hitting the ground would've been like; a terrific force crashed against his wings and it felt as though they were going to be torn off. He closed his eyes, barely keeping himself from screaming.

Then it was over. To his amazement, he could still feel the air rushing over his hide and the way they hurt suggested his wings were still attached, as well.

“Aaron?" Jes' voice was soft, barely audible over the rushing air. He could feel her on top of him, her arms wrapped around his neck. “Would you mind opening your eyes? I'd be a lot more comfortable if you were watching where you were flying."

He blinked. It seemed he hadn't crashed and that the constant rush of air was a sign of things going well. He blinked again, slowly shedding his panic. Looking down, he could see the ground was still rushing, but now it was rushing past rather towards him.

Then he looked forward, only to start rapidly beating his wings again, desperately trying to pull up, to get higher and away from the cliff he'd just noticed he was uncomfortably close to.

But this time the panic did not last long; he felt Jes pulling at his harness, pulling him to one side. He did not fight it and quickly found himself easing into a banking turn and, before long, was heading away from the cliff once more.

He sighed, letting his eyes drift just slightly closed as he soared through the sky. He ached, and it felt like he'd run into something decidedly solid, but no longer was he rushing into the ground. He might yet survive his first experience flying.

“Well," Jes said, her voice sounding less panicked and more exhausted. “That was more exciting than I had expected our in-air training session to go. I think that might be enough for one day, even. Perhaps we'll do the actual exercises another time."

That sounded wonderful to Aaron. Having only just come to terms with the idea of flying, he had no desire to move beyond the basics. In another day he'd be human again and could leave the flying to those born to it.

Jes tugged at his harness, guiding him in a graceful curve until he was pointed back at the island once more.

“Um, you do know how to get back up, right?" Jes asked.

Looking up, he belatedly remembered the flight starting with a large drop. The Aerie was surprisingly small in the distance and located considerably above them. He groaned in a long, rumbling sound; it seemed there was more to flying that he'd have to learn before he could rest his aching wings.

By the time they got back to the Aerie, nearly all of Aaron's body ached. He landed on the soft ground outside his particular stall with a thump and dragged himself back in. As he was crawling in, Jes slid off his back, sagging slightly as she landed on her own feet.

“Well," said a familiar voice. Aaron looked up, surprised to see the Flightmaster waiting for them. “It's always good to see an apprentice willing to put serious effort into her training exercises. I trust you had no further troubles?"

Jes drew herself up, taking a deep breath. Then she looked at the Flightmaster and seemed to deflate once more. “No, sir."

“Then I'll leave you to get Aaron there cleaned up and washed." The Flightmaster left, giving Aaron a pat on the shoulder as he passed.

Jes, meanwhile, sighed. “Well, let's get that harness off you, then I'll see about getting us some water." She reached up, grabbing a strap and, for a moment, it seemed as though the strap was holding her up. Then she got to work undoing buckles and removing straps.

As she finally pulled the harness off of Aaron he slumped down, letting the cool stone floor, cleared of the soiled straw of the morning, absorb the aches in his muscles. His gaze was on Jes as she hung the harness on the pegs on the stall wall, but he didn't pay attention.

Then she was off to get water and even as he was being thankful he didn't have to get up and help, he found himself dozing off.

Only to be brought back to awareness as water splashed over his face. “We aren't done yet. You can sleep after I finish getting you clean." He could see that she'd brought in a partially-filled barrel of water. It smelled fine, if a bit stale, when he sniffed it, so he started lapping some up, only realizing how thirsty he was as the water started going down his throat.

“Thought you might be a bit thirsty," Jes said, watching him. “After this I'll see about finding something for you to eat as well."

Once he finished lapping up water, leaving the barrel with significantly less in it than before he'd had any, she scooped out some of the water into a bucket and pulled a rag off her belt.

“Well, let's get to it." She knelt next to his shoulder, dipped the rag in the bucket, then started briskly rubbing him down with it. At first, he watched her; he'd been unaware riders washed their beasts this way. Admittedly, he'd never had a reason to learn. Soon enough, the feel of her hands slowly rubbing over his body and soothing his aching muscles overcome his meagre curiosity and he laid his head back down on the ground.

Not only did her hands feel good as they roamed over his body, the pressure of her fingers and the rag were like an anatomy lesson. The feel of them on his body reminded him of the existence of his altered anatomy in a way that his body aching had not. He had barely noticed his tail, or his powerful thighs while in flight, but now, with her hands rubbing them down, he could not ignore them.

And then she was pushing on his hips; he obliged her by rolling over, barely noticing as his back pressed against the floor dampened with water that had run off his body. His wings fell limply over the floor, covering much of its surface with their membranes. Her hands continued their work, roaming over his massive chest, and his empty stomach. He let out a sigh as the chill of the floor seeped into his body.

She leaned over his chest as she worked his way down to his belly, her clothes rubbing against him as she worked. He could feel the firmness of her breasts through the fabric and wished she wasn't wearing so many layers. But even if she was one of those riders who desired physical intimacy with their mounts, he doubted that she would seek it with a wyvern she knew she'd be with only for a day.

It didn't take long for her to finish with his belly. For a brief moment she got off him entirely and he heard the splashing of the rag in the bucket once more, but then she was pulling herself over his chest, her arms reaching down towards his legs. Presumably, she was trying not to step or kneel on his wings, though he wasn't sure why. The membranes were thick and durable enough that she was unlikely to damage them unless she deliberately pierced them. Not that he was complaining; even if he could have, he wouldn't have told her to move. He liked the feel of her laying across his body.

Her touch was lighter as she rubbed his inner thighs as well as the hide between them; more likely she was having trouble reaching than any intentional gentleness. He felt his shaft begin to stir, but by the time it started to show itself, she had slipped off of him once more. Once more he heard the splash of the rag in the bucket, then she slumped down against his side.

“That was an unexpectedly exciting day. You are one unusual wyvern, Aaron; something tells me most riders don't get nearly so much excitement from a day of training exercises."

Or, Aaron thought, multiple visits from the Flightmaster. It had been an exciting day for both of them, but he was ready for it to be over.

The peaceful moment was interrupted by Aaron's stomach rumbling. Jes sighed, pulling herself to her feet once more.

“I'll grab you your dinner. Then I'll be off to get cleaned up before I go find my own." She left even as she was speaking, returning a few minutes later with a pair of large buckets, one in each hand.

“I hope you enjoy it," she said as she dumped each bucket in turn into the large trough at the side of his stall. Once again, the meal mostly consisted of unidentifiable, and uncooked, meat chunks. He got up, walking over to look more closely. The smell was causing him to salivate and his stomach to rumble once more, but did nothing to convince his human mind that what he was looking at was appetizing.

“Goodnight, Aaron," Jes said, leaving as he forced himself to begin eating. As ever, the meal was far more satisfying then he wanted to admit.

Aaron relaxed as he stretched out across the fresh straw on the floor of his stall. One of the older boys, nearly ready to become an apprentice, had come through and scattered it over the floor of the stall after Aaron had finished eating.

There wasn't much wyverns needed to do in the evening unless the aerie came under attack, unlikely as that was. Not only were they far from the border, but an enemy would need a way to reach the floating island. Riders and wyverns alike used this time to socialize, though usually not with each other. He hadn't planned on spending much time with the other wyverns; his own time as a wyvern was nearly over.

In the quiet of the growing darkness, a familiar smell began to drift in on the air currents. He'd smelt it somewhere before, somewhere recent, but he could not place the source. Lifting his head, he sniffed the night air. His head sought out the source, seemingly of its own accord, and as it did, his body rose to follow it. And that wasn't the only thing to rise; a stiffness formed between his legs, bobbing with each step.

The night vision of wyverns was remarkable only for its absence; the darkness outside his stall was marred only by a few scattered lanterns that hung on posts as they marked the main pathways around the aerie. Dimly visible in the distance, glowing spell stones marked the edge of the floating island.

While he appreciated the meagre light that helped keep him from tripping over things or people in the dark, it was his nose that guided him. His nostrils flared as they took in that alluring scent in the air. The scent only grew stronger and more alluring as he made his way towards its source.

Another wyvern appeared as he followed the scent, visible as nothing more than a silhouette against the scarce lanterns. The other wyvern had a vaguely familiar scent but Aaron could not place it. Still, aggression tore through his veins; how dare this other wyvern keep him from what was his. But before Aaron had a chance to act on this aggression, the other wyvern lowered its head and fled.

No matter. It was not the source of the alluring scent and so was not important. Finding the source of the scent was all that mattered. He shook his head, trying to clear it and continued.

It was only a few moments more before he reached the source of the scent: a wyvern stall. He approached the stall carefully, able to partially make out the form of a wyvern within in the light of a lantern that hung on the side of the stall entrance. It was her, the female he'd encountered earlier in the day. The female he had almost mounted in full view of the aerie. In the light of the lantern, he could see her turn to look at him before running her long, pointed tongue over her lips.

He could run; he could escape back to his own stall and forget everything. Pretend nothing had ever happened. No one would ever need to know. They might wonder about the mysterious wyvern that showed up briefly, but they would never associate it with him.

But the shaft between his legs was harder than ever. Even the last time he'd been turned into a wyvern, when he'd been exposed to female pheromones, he hadn't felt so turned on. But then, he hadn't had an interested female watching him, only his own hormones.

He took a step into her stall, then another. She didn't back off, but just kept watching him. It didn't take long before he reached her, but he nearly fled when something brushed against his thigh. A glance back revealed it to be her tail, brushing against his hide.

She took advantage of his distraction to run her snout over his neck and caress the base of his horns with her tongue. He hesitated; he was a man, not a beast, and should rise above his base impulses.

But he didn't want to. And the wyvern rubbing her body against his certainly seemed quite eager.

With that thought, he returned her attentions with a long lick over her neck. Her hide was bland, but not unpleasant. His neck rubbed against hers as his attention moved backwards, his tongue exploring her shoulders and back.

She pressed against him, her own attentions focusing lower. The feel of her snout bumping against his shaft elicited a gasp, but she ignored it, even as he felt a bead of moisture forming on the end, getting spread over her hide as she pushed her head deeper between his legs, nuzzling his inner thighs.

He lifted his wing, settling it on her back as he moved against her and turned his attention to the base of her tail. The scent of her arousal was strong and the scent of rival males entirely absent. He licked the base of her tail as his wing pulled her tighter against him.

He had no desire to remain a wyvern, but in that moment it didn't seem like it'd be so bad. Her body was warm against his and her attentions were leaving his shaft ever harder.

His head snaked around her tail, leaving the end of his snout at its underside, near enough that the only the inability to see through his own snout prevented him from seeing her sex. His tongue flickered out, taking in her scent and even her taste as it pushed into her, spreading her. His head pounded at the sweat taste and he felt his shaft throb, leaving a trail of fluid over her neck.

Then she pulled back, separating herself from him. Had he done something wrong? He looked to her, stepping towards her before he caught himself. In the darkness, it was difficult to see the details of her form.

She looked at him and licked her lips once more before turning around, lowering her chest to the straw-covered floor and raising her tail to present her hindquarters.

He stepped forward, then hesitated. There was no turning back after this. He would forever be a man who had mounted a wyvern. It wasn't forbidden, but he wasn't a rider and had no need to bond with another man's wyvern.

She looked over her shoulder, staring at him and swaying her hips. Somehow, she seemed closer. No; he had walked towards her. It made no sense, but he craved to feel her beneath him, to feel her around his shaft.

It only took a few moments to cover the remaining distance. Then he was wrapping his wings around her, pulling himself onto her back. He felt his wings push back against her thighs as he thrust his hips forward.

The spines of his shaft rubbed against her thighs, catching briefly on folds of hide, but his cock missed her entrance. Again he thrust, pulling her back tighter against him, but again he missed. He growled, frustrated but ever more determined. Beneath his chest, he felt her shiver and push against him.

The third try was the charm; the tip of his cock caught against her opening and the length penetrated her, spreading her open. He nuzzled her neck as he pushed his length deeper.

The thrust stopped as the first of the hard ridges on his shaft caught against her. A thrill ran through his body. He drew back and thrust again, harder, forcing the ridge into her. They both grunted as it entered her, but it was only a moment before the next ridge caught as well.

He drew back, the motion slowed as the first ridge resisted being pulled out. As he thrust in once more he closed his teeth over her neck, not biting down, but silently claiming her. She grunted again as his ridges pressed into her. His body wrapped around her, surrounding her with him. The only thing he could smell was her sweet scent of arousal; the only thing he felt was her body around his cock.

Grunts and growls filled the air as he continued to thrust into her. With every stroke she pushed back against him, taking more of his length into her until their hips were meeting with every thrust.

The sensations surging through his body were raw, primal. They dominated his mind, only a tiny voice remaining to wonder if this was normal; no human sex had ever felt so all-consuming. What if the transformation spell had gone wrong somehow?

But there was no more time for concern. He thrust once more, deep into her depths, and released his grip on her neck. He barely felt the throbbing of his shaft as he emptied his seed into his eager mate; even his loud roar was secondary to the rush that ran through his body.

For a moment they remained still. He panted slightly, resting his head on her shoulder. Gradually, he became aware once more of his surroundings.

They had not been quiet. The light of the lantern hanging from the stall door, though dim, was enough to leave them visible and human night vision was not nearly so bad as that of wyverns.

What if someone were to discover them? They weren't exactly hidden from view; for one, the stall didn't have a door. He glanced back towards the door but did not see anyone. The sound of wyverns mating was not uncommon, he told himself. Anyone living in an aerie got used to it quickly. Still, this was not two wyverns. This was him.

He huddled on top of his partner and gave her neck a lick. He was surprised to find indentations from where his teeth had been pressed against her neck, but she returned his lick and seemed unconcerned.

It was a few minutes before he pulled himself off of and out of her, allowing himself to slump to the ground next to her. The night air was cool against his damp shaft and the straw of the stall was prickly, causing his cock to quickly retreat back into his body.

The female wyvern laid down next to him, pressing herself up against him. He shifted just enough to press his neck against her and rest his head beside hers, their horns nearly touching. His time as a wyvern had had many exciting moments, but it was this feeling of closeness in the darkness he thought he'd miss the most when he became human again. In fact, it was the only part he expected to miss.

Although he drifted off to sleep, it was still dark when the female next to him woke him once more, prodding at him with her snout. Her tail snaked around his thigh, slipping under his body to tease the slit where his shaft was hidden and the attention awakened arousal once more in him. When she presented her hindquarters to him this time, he did not hesitate in mounting her once more.

It was not until much later that he finally slunk back to his own stall, exhausted. The light of dawn was not yet visible, but it would not be long until it appeared.

The sound of liquid splashing into the trough at the side of his stall woke Aaron. He lifted his head, blinking blearily. It seemed even as a wyvern he had to get up way too early.

“Morning, sleepyhead," Jes said, setting the now-empty bucket next to the trough. “Better get eating. I have to get you ready for the final inspection with that inspector so he can go and leave us in peace."

Aaron dragged himself over to the trough. Neither getting up nor the inspection sounded appealing, but he'd rather not do either hungry and the stew-like breakfast appealed more to his human mind than the usual chunks of meat wyverns got. As he ate, Jes gathered up the harness and he wondered if she could smell the previous night's activities on him. Sex had been found to serve an important social role with wyverns and was thus encouraged, but Aaron was not normally a wyvern, nor even a rider. If anyone found out he'd no doubt never hear the end of it.

Despite his tiredness, the food was soon eaten. It did not take long for Jes to get the harness on him once more and he was glad that, this time, his cock didn't decide to make an appearance. Natural and normal it might be for a wyvern, he still found the idea of facing the inspector with an erection unappealing.

It didn't take long before he could hear the voices of the inspector and the Flightmaster. They were muffled by the walls and the normal sounds of daily life, but he could hear them slowly approach.

The inspector walked into Aaron's stall with a scowl on his face as he glared into the room. He held a clipboard in his hand with a haphazard stack of papers stuck to it.

“Yet again, this place reeks. Do you not scrub these stalls down?"

The Flightmaster entered a few steps behind the inspector. He appeared no more pleased than the inspector, despite the pleasant expression plastered over his face.

“Again, I apologize for the wyvern stalls smelling of wyverns." The Flightmaster said. “Unfortunately, this is one of the older aeries and the smell eventually settles in to stay. The only way to clear it out at this point would be to raze the entire complex and rebuild it."

“Perhaps I should suggest it." The inspector turned to glare at Jes. “You, rider. You ready?"

“Yes sir," Jes replied, her tone neutral.

“Name?"

“Jes."

“Sounds familiar." The inspector said as he noted it on his clipboard. Then he looked around the stall. “Wyvern, young male in good health, one. Harness, correctly fitted, one. Rider, young female, one. No visible damage. Extra clutter, none." He kicked the straw on the floor. “Straw, mostly clean. Very well." And with that, the inspector tromped back out of the stall.

The Flightmaster remained behind. “The inspector will be leaving as soon as he goes over the last few stalls. Wait a couple of minutes, then you can unharness Aaron again. Afterwards, you're free for the day; go get yourself an early lunch, but do not return to Aaron. I will attend to the remaining work myself."

Jes blinked. “If you're sure, sir."

“I am." He turned and walked after the inspector. A moment later a muffled “took you long enough" could be heard.

“Well, let's go get you unharnessed, then." Removing the harness was quick and Aaron watched as Jes wiped it down and dumped it on the pegs on the wall.

“It's been interesting knowing you. Good luck with whatever the Flightmaster has planned. Putting you back wherever he got you from, I suppose." She gave him a pat on the shoulder, then walked out.

The sun was nearly overhead by the time that the Flightmaster returned with a bundle of clothing in his hands and the master mage in tow. They both stared at Aaron for a moment before the Flightmaster spoke.

“Well, ready to return to being human?"

Aaron nodded. The Flightmaster took a step back as the master mage stepped forward, vial in hand. “Open your mouth." Aaron did so as the master mage opened the vial. Then the mage dumped the contents onto Aaron's tongue. There was little more than a few drops, but even as those hit his tongue Aaron could feel a tingling sensation. It started from where the drops landed but quickly spread, extending itself over Aaron's entire body.

He barely noticed as the master mage stepped back, casting a spell with a few words and gestures. “I have again isolated us from anyone hearing or seeing what we do."

“Good." The Flightmaster replied.

The tingling sensation was quickly replaced by numbness, but this did not last nearly as long as Aaron would have liked. Only moments later, the world exploded in pain as though every bone in his body shattered at once.

He was laying on the floor, pain lingering everywhere. His throat was raw, his stomach heaving. He tried to move, but effort left the world spinning. His hands grasped at the straw on the ground as he struggled to roll over.

“I wish you'd isolate me from the sound." The Flightmaster said.

“You could've waited outside."

“This was my project; I need to see it to the end."

Aaron managed to get himself onto his back and push himself up on his elbows. He looked down his body and, despite the pain, smiled at the sight of his familiar human skin. He lifted an arm, staring at his nimble fingers. But then he turned his gaze further down his body. His cock was incongruously, almost painfully, hard. But, worryingly, he could see claws. Raising his head further, he could see that his legs still resembled those of the wyvern he had been. And the tip of a tail could be seen lying between them.

“He is going to finish changing?" The Flightmaster asked.

“Yes. Probably." The master mage replied. “It may take a few minutes."

Everyone remained still, watching Aaron's legs fail to become human once more. But at least the pain receded, leaving only a dull soreness behind, and his erection wilted. But his legs and tail remained stubbornly unchanged.

After a couple more minutes, the master mage crouched next to Aaron's legs, grabbed one, and spoke a few mystic-sounding words. There was another flash of pain, but when Aaron looked again, his legs seemed normal enough and the tail was gone entirely. Well, his toenails still seemed awfully claw-like, but he could live with that; it was better than having wyvern legs at least.

From the exhaustion on the master mage's face, Aaron suspected the potion he'd drunk had not been responsible for these final changes, but some new, additional spell.

“There. Done." The master mage said. “If you notice any lingering symptoms or problems, keep them to yourself. I'm done with this." He stood, holding the wall for support. “I'm heading back for a strong drink then plenty of sleep. Don't disturb me unless it's urgent." With that, the master mage stumbled out of the stall.

The Flightmaster helped Aaron stand. “Well, I thank you for your help," he said before handing Aaron the bundle of clothes. “Here's your clothes; get plenty of rest for the next few days and, when you feel up to it, head over to the cafeteria for some food." He gave Aaron a pat on the shoulder, then turned and followed the master mage.

For a moment Aaron just stared at the clothes. Not even two days and already they felt alien. He found he had to force himself to pull the strangely-unfamiliar fabrics over himself.

Well, no matter. He'd have a lifetime of being human to get used to them again.