Reed, the Dragon and Laken

Chapter 2: Ice and Encounters

The early morning light caught his startled smile, and Laken felt the day shift subtly on its axis. Neither of them could have known it then, but that moment—that first real connection—would set in motion events that would shake the very foundations of Corban and Kretia.

Above the arena, unseen by either of them, a massive shadow passed across the glass dome, and Harold the dragon allowed himself a small smile. The pieces were falling into place.

Three days after the mountain incident, Reed found himself at the Corban Ice Arena, seeking solace in the one place his family rarely thought to look for him. The early morning light filtered through the arena's massive windows, casting prismatic patterns across the empty ice.

"Perfect," he murmured, setting up his camera at the rink's edge. The mysterious scale from the mountain sat in his bag, a constant reminder that he hadn't imagined that strange morning. Every time he tried to film it, the scale seemed to blur in the footage, as if refusing to be documented.

***

The sound of blades on ice interrupted his thoughts. Reed looked up to see a figure gliding across the rink with fluid grace. He hadn't expected anyone else this early—the arena didn't officially open for another hour, a time he'd specifically chosen for solitude.

The skater moved like she was part of the ice itself, her brown hair with blonde highlights catching the morning light. She launched into a perfect triple axel, landed with remarkable precision, and continued into a spin sequence that made Reed instinctively raise his camera.

"You know," she called out, coming to a stop in a spray of ice, "most people ask permission before filming strangers."

Reed lowered his camera, embarrassed. "Sorry, I just... that was incredible. I've never seen anyone skate like that here before."

She glided closer, and Reed noticed her eyes—bright and analytical, studying him with the same intensity he usually reserved for his documentary subjects.

"You're Reed Sterling," she said, not a question but a statement. "The one who nearly caused a media sensation by showing up late to his own factory opening."

"Guilty." He smiled. "Though in my defense, I was working on something important."

"More important than the Sterling Motors' expansion into sustainable energy?" She raised an eyebrow, skating closer to the barrier.

"Actually, yes." Reed hesitated, then asked, "How did you get in here? I thought I had the only early access pass."

She laughed, the sound echoing through the empty arena. "I have my ways. I'm Laken, by the way. Laken Mills. I'm here training for the Regional Championships."

"Mills?" Reed's brow furrowed. "As in Mills Enterprises from Kretia?" he ventured, not quite sure about whether he was perhaps drawing a silly conclusion about her identity.

"The very same," Laken sighed. "Though like you, I prefer not to lead with the family business card."

A comfortable silence fell between them, broken only by the distant hum of the arena's cooling system. Reed found himself studying her through his photographer's eye—the way she held herself with both athletic discipline and a hint of rebellion, the subtle signs that suggested she, too, carried the weight of family expectations.

"So," Laken said, nodding toward his camera, "what was so important that it made the heir to Sterling Motors late to his own ceremony?"

Reed's hand instinctively went to his bag where the scale lay hidden. "Would you believe me if I said I found something impossible on the mountain?"

"Impossible?" Her eyes lit up with genuine curiosity. "In my experience, impossible usually just means no one's looked hard enough."

Before Reed could respond, the arena's main doors opened with a bang. A tall, athletic young man strode in, his features sharing enough similarity with Laken to mark him as family. Reed drew in a deep breath in anticipation.

"Laken!" he called out, voice sharp with disapproval. "What happened to training with Wade this morning?"

"Hello to you too, Luca," Laken rolled her eyes. "I told Wade I prefer to train alone."

Luca Mills reached the rink barrier, giving Reed a cold once-over. "And yet here you are, not alone at all."

"Reed was just—"

"Filming without permission, from the looks of it." Luca's green eyes narrowed. "Did you know the Sterling Motors' PR team has been trying to spin your little disappearing act as 'youthful inspiration seeking' rather than plain irresponsibility?"

Reed met his gaze steadily. "I wasn't aware you followed our PR statements so closely."

"I make it my business to know about potential competitors," Luca replied. "Especially ones who might distract my sister from her training."

"Luca," Laken's voice carried a warning edge. "I can handle my own schedule."

The tension in the air thickened, but before anyone could speak further, Reed's phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen to see a message from Tom:

[Dude, you need to see this. That weird footage you sent me? Something showed up in the background when I enhanced it.]

"I should go," Reed said, gathering his equipment. He turned to Laken. "It was nice meeting you. Maybe we'll run into each other again?"

"Count on it," she smiled, ignoring her brother's visible displeasure. "I'm here most mornings. And I'm curious about your impossible discovery."

As Reed left the arena, he heard Luca's stern voice: "Wade's been waiting for you to partner with him for months. He's a perfect match for your skating style..."

Reed smiled to himself, thinking how the morning had unexpectedly given him two mysteries to pursue—the dragon on the mountain, and now the intriguing skater who seemed to understand the weight of family legacies.

His phone buzzed again. Tom had sent a still from his mountain footage, enhanced and sharpened. In the clouds above the burning branch, a distinct shape was visible—a serpentine form with wings spread wide, watching.

Reed's pulse quickened. Behind him, the sound of blades on ice continued, Laken's graceful movements a defiant response to her brother's lectures. Two different worlds, both full of secrets waiting to be uncovered.

And somewhere above Corban, a dragon circled, sensing the threads of destiny beginning to weave together. Harold grinned wide.