by Jada Fisher
“I know, I know, but you can’t blame me for being worried. You have to overcome so much that the others don’t.”
“We all have our struggles. Don’t worry, Grandfather, you have taught me to be strong.” Eist reached up to hug the taller, muscled man before finally letting go. “Good-bye, but only for now.”
Finally, she let him go and turned to go with the crowd. Mothers, fathers, guardians, and friends all fell off, leaving only the hopefuls streaming into the academy.
It took several minutes for all of them to get in, and several more for them to shut the doors. But when they did eventually slam closed, the deep pulse of it was strong enough to nearly throw off Eist’s heartbeat.
Her surprise at that quickly faded as the same three council members appeared at the top of another platform at the edge of the grand courtyard.
“Congratulations on starting this journey,” Rodoth said, the others standing quietly beside him. “First things first, this is possibly the least exciting part of your journey here. We will split you into three separate groups for our registration, where each of you will be given a number and a tie of cloth.
“You must keep all of these items in your possession, as this is how we will identify you during these trials. Should you lose them, you will not be able to continue.”
“Be prepared for questions,” Elspeth added, raising her fair face. “We must know what we can about all of those who hope to join our ranks.”
And that was it. The three of them retreated through the curtained back of the platform and Eist could hear murmurs of concern and curiosity all around her. But it was easy enough to dismiss those, and she craned her neck to look at the many entrances that surrounded them.
The whole of the Dragon Academy seemed to be set up like a half-moon, with the outer curve being the large, grassy area upon which all the initiates stood. The inner curve was lined with pillar after pillar, which supporting a large canopy that provided plenty of shade. Eist could certainly go for some of that cover now, the sun was beating down on her blonde head and she knew if she was out too long that the part in her hair would burn her scalp into a nice red color. If she was to ever one day be worthy of a dragon’s back, she was definitely going to have to make use of a helmet.
As she looked around, three doors opened and several people in different colored robes came forward. Bit by bit, they organized the groups and Eist found herself being shuffled inside the leftmost entrance.
It was by no means a quick process, but it did go faster than she had anticipated, and she soon found herself in a long hallway with many entrances and exits to it.
Like most of the official buildings in the city, the corridor was quite tall to allow for the presence of all sorts of dragons. Granted, there were no dragons currently present, which was a bit of a disappointment to Eist, but she kept her thoughts to herself.
In fact, that was her intention for all of her time at the academy, should she get in. Just lay low and put all of her energy into succeeding in whatever she had to do.
The adults in robes lined everyone up on one side of the hall. As time passed while they stood in line, Eist began to think that the Dragon Academy trials was were going to consist of a whole lot of organization but not much action. After maybe an hour, they were finally admitted one by one through a door at the very end of the hall.
Eist estimated there were at least seventy people in the hall with her, and she was right smack in the middle. Judging by how often they were letting a new person in through the door, she certainly had a wait in store for her.
She could feel the buzz of conversations all around her, but Eist crossed her arms and stared solidly ahead. The less people she had to interact with, the better. She was fully prepared to focus solely on her training for the next five years, and her entry seemed like a good place to start.
Eventually, it was her turn and she found herself walking through the door into a small room. There was a table in the center where a man stood with a scroll, several small swaths of fabric, and many pots of ink around his feathered quill. He gestured for her to have a seat, his face mostly hidden in shadow.
He asked something, but Eist was so distracted with taking in the room in its entirety that she realized she missed a good chunk of it.
“I apologize, what was that?”
“Your name?” he repeated, a bit louder.
“Eist of W’allenhaus,” she answered simply, making sure to study his face and take in all of his features. It was a skill that she had been building up over the past few years. There was so much information that someone could get from just tiny movements of another person’s visage. The crinkle of an eyebrow there, a cheek tensing, an eye shifting. It was almost like a language entirely its own, and Eist had found that it definitely helped her decipher what people really meant.
“W’allenhaus?” the man asked in surprise, his eyebrows shooting upwards. “As in Ivanya and Felden W’allenhaus?”
Eist nodded slowly. She had no intention of resting on her parent’s laurels, but she couldn’t exactly avoid that either. “They were my mother and father, yes.”
“That’s some pedigree there.”
“Thank you,” Eist said flatly. “Before I was born, I made sure that I had an extra illustrious lineage waiting for me.”
“Smart move.” The curl of his lips told Eist that he could tell she was being at least somewhat humorous, and he moved on. “With parents like that, of course you’d want to be a dragon rider.”
She had anticipated something like this. “I would want to be a dragon rider even if my parents were farmers, or fishermen, or anything else for that matter.”
“And why is that?”
“Because it’s what I’m meant to be.”
“And how do you know that?”
“I just do.” She was aware that her frank answers could leave a bad impression, but her grandfather had drilled into her to be as honest as possible. Yes most girls were expected to be gracious and polite at all times, but Eist didn’t have time for that.
“Why? Because you deserve it?”
Eist shook her head. “No one deserves a dragon. If someone believes they have some sort of automatic right to greatness, I would keep an eye on them.
“Being chosen by a dragon is an honor above all others, not a default. So no, I don’t think I deserve it. I just know that I was meant to walk this path, wherever it might lead.”
“I see.”
The man wrote something down that Eist couldn’t see, and then he asked as he looked down at the table, only raising his head for the last part.
“…end up not being chosen by a dragon?”
Eist shrugged. “That’s not a possibility.”
“But what if it was?”
“I don’t think it’s healthy to dwell on things that could go wrong, but if I were to fail, then there are many other things I could be led to. Maybe I was meant to be a caretaker like my grandfather. Maybe I was meant to be an orator, or maybe even something I could never guess. But I can feel it all the way through my core that this is exactly where I’m meant to be right now.”
“I see.” There was a pause as he regarded Eist, then he leaned forward slightly. “You have the mark of the All-Mother upon you.”
“Pardon?” Eist asked, surprised by the comment that had seemingly come without prompting.
“Your eye,” he said, gesturing to her face. “The All-Mother sees far more than any of us mortals can. She’s blessed you with her sight. You are meant for great things, Eist of W’allenhaus. Just like your parents.” He leaned back, as if satisfied with his pseudo prophecy.
“You have passed the first trial.” He quickly wrote a number on one of the fabric squares and handed it to her with a sharp pin. “Take this and wear it well. May the destiny that you seek come to bear fruit.”
“Thank you,” Eist said uncertainly, taking the offering and heading out of the other side of the room.
This time, she was in
troduced into another long corridor where a dozen or so other people were waiting. She guessed that these were the other folks that had passed the first trial, but her mind was far from that.
Catching her reflection in a looking glass on the wall, she regarded the eye that the man had mentioned. While both of her irises were a dazzling green, one of her onyx pupils was much wider than the other, blown out to show only a sliver of emerald around its rim. It didn’t affect her vision as far as she could tell, but goodness did people love to comment on it.
Some thought her a witch, some just pointed and stared, while some—like the man in the room—were certain that it was a mark from one of the Three. Eist thought all of them stupid. Her eye had been normal for most of her life, until a fever four years back had nearly struck her down. Her grandfather and her had barely survived, and the sickness had marked her for the rest of her life.
Frustrated, she turned to the side and meant to stalk off to a far corner, only to run into a solid mass. Stumbling back, she caught herself before she could hit the ground and looked up to see a trio of strange faces.
One was a taller figure with a thick shock of brown hair and kind blue eyes. The other stood in stark contrast to him, his cat-like hazel eyes glaring at her from his tanned face. The third was by far the most striking, easily standing at a head above the rest and layered with so much muscle that he almost resembled an inflated pig bladder. If that bladder was capable of beating down about six men at once. How was that physically possible?
The cat-eyed one sneered, and Eist recognized that he was saying something most likely vile, so she just turned on her heel to go in the opposite direction. She didn’t have time to waste on those who felt the need to spit hatred and would much rather—
A hand on her shoulder interrupted her getaway and suddenly she found herself yanked face to face with the cat-eyed one, his white hair falling over his glare ever-so-slightly. “What are you, some kind of idiot?”
Eist blinked at him, trying to figure out a way to get out of the situation without drawing attention to herself. But her thoughts kept being interrupted by the back of her mind telling her just how punch-able the boy’s face was.
“What’re you, slow? I asked you a question.”
“This is unnecessary, Ain,” the brown-haired young man said, placing one of his hands over the boy’s that was gripping Eist’s tunic. “I know you’re mad that your father would rather go to the gambling halls then spend time with you, but there’s no need to take it out on a stranger.”
Suddenly Eist found herself let go and the white-haired boy, who was apparently named Ain, whipped to the intervening stranger. “I know you think you’re so superior just because your father is the Lord of the House, but I’d watch what you say, Yacrist.”
Lord of the House? Eist eyes widened as she took the young man in.
Unlike most of the other kingdoms, Rothaiche M’or didn’t have a king. However, neither did the council rule exclusively. No, they had far too much justice and protection to handle to deal with the day in and day out issues of running a city. So, to make sure that the kingdom didn’t fall into some sort of despotic decline, a Lord of the House was selected by the council every generation. And for the last four, they had chosen the eldest son of the House of Auber.
Which meant the dark-haired boy in front of her was very, very rich, and very powerful. It would be best to sneak away before she could be embroiled in the issue any further.
She turned to leave once more only to find Ain standing in front of her again. He was fast. She would have to watch out for that in the future.
“Where do you think you’re going? You’re the one who started this. Weren’t you taught manners? When you run into someone, you’re supposed to apologize.”
Normally, Eist would apologize for stumbling into someone, but there was something about this boy that made a fire burn in her belly, licking at her heart and making it smolder with not-so-nice intentions. “That was you?” she murmured carefully. “I thought I’d just tripped over a dog.”
He smirked, his lips curling like a cat’s too. Funny, Eist had always liked the whiskered miscreants that ran around her home, but there was nothing inviting or pet-able about this boy who couldn’t be more than a couple years older than her. “I’d be careful who you call a dog, considering you look like some sort of fat gnome that was hit in the head one too many times.” He let go of her and laughed, the mountain of muscle giving a low chuckle as well. “I suppose I shouldn’t pick on somebody who obviously was malformed at birth, but they really are letting anyone in, aren’t they?”
The fire within her ice-like facade licked up farther, threatening to reach her head, but as much as she wanted to tell this jerk exactly where he could shove his words, she knew she didn’t want to get kicked out for starting a fight on the first day. So instead she stood there, fuming.
“Awww, look, I confused the poor thing. There, there.” He condescendingly reached out and ruffled her thick hair. Eist slapped his hand away viciously, but he just seemed amused by it. “Don’t worry. Even the dragon council needs a charity case every once in a while. I’m sure they’ll keep you around for laughs for a good long while before finally sending you back to whatever hole you crawled out of.”
“Why don’t you just get lost, Ain?” the dark-haired boy spat, Yacrist, if Eist remembered correctly.
Before he could respond, a large chime sounded and then someone was standing at the end of the hall and speaking. Their words were impossible to make out beyond the hubbub going on around her, but Eist didn’t need to hear them to guess what they were saying.
It was time for the second trial.
3
Race to the Finish
Once more, Eist found herself filing forward, thankfully with a good distance between her and Ain. She didn’t know what possessed some people to go out of their way to be so downright unpleasant, but she would show him. She would show all of them.
He wasn’t the first person in her life to tease her, to call her slow, but if people wanted to think her stupid, that was their prerogative. The only thing that mattered was proving to the council that she was not. She had made it through the first interview, so she knew that at least one of them was on her side.
Soon she was through another door and she recognized an indoor training area. Her grandfather had helped build a much more hodge-podge and amateur one, but the idea was the same.
There were ropes that hung from the ceiling, tied in different places for different exercises. There were spinning posts with short, thick dowels sticking out of them to practice blocks and reflexes. There was a short wall that looked like it was for climbing, and on the other half, there were all sorts of weapons.
Eist’s fingers curled and uncurled. She would love to get her hands on any of those tools. The one area her grandfather could never train her on was classical weaponry, considering the only defense he ever had was a paring knife and a rake. However, he had taught her how to improvise and defend herself no matter what the surroundings, so she was sure that she would be able to put that to use when a sword was finally in her hand.
Another figure stepped to the front of them, but this one wasn’t wearing the formal robes that the other had. No, he was a strapping man with no shirt, his entire torso featuring scars overlaid upon each other like the most confusing map that Eist had ever seen. He took one look over the crowd before beginning to shout.
“Congratulations on getting this far, Initiates. You are now facing your second trial. Some of you will consider this difficult, but I assure you this will be one of the easiest tests you’ll ever take compared to what lays in wait for you if you get into the academy.
“Your job is simply to get from one side of the room to the other as quickly as possible. However, you must take one of two paths.”
He pointed upwards to the ropes and Eist realizes that they had stripes of red painted across them. “You can take the scarlet pass, which requires upper
body strength and strategy. Or—” He pointed to the sandpit on the floor, the spinning posts, and several other objects. “—you can take the blue path. Either way, you must defeat each obstacle of the path before continuing. If you skip a single one, you are disqualified. So be thorough.
“Now, that sounds simple enough, but you will notice that on the floor there are several lengths that are painted black. The red path has more than the blue path, but the blue path’s areas are in more strategic places. If even one foot touches the black, you are disqualified and your journey ends unless a test proctor decides to give you a second chance. Some of you may object to second chances, saying that they are unfair, but life is often unfair. Sometimes when you fall, you’ll be given a chance to get back up, and sometimes you won’t. The important thing is to do your best, so you don’t have to rely on chance at all.
“Align yourself now!”
Eist gave the scene one last look over before going straight for the red path. While it was more challenging, she could already see a trail that would get her to the other side safely, black zones at all.
Unsurprisingly, most of the group queued up at the start of the blue path, some of them stretching and some of them staring at the expanse in sheer terror. Eist didn’t have much hope for those initiates, although she wished them the best.
Suddenly a hand was on her shoulder again, trying to turn her around. “Did you get turned around on your way to the easy line?”
She recognized Ain’s vocal rhythm as he continued to try to steer her toward the blue line. She shook him off, giving him a baleful glare, but he just laughed.
“Fine! It’s your funeral. I just thought that someone should help the slow one instead of just laughing at you when you fail.”
“We’ll see who fails,” she countered sharply.
But that just seemed to amuse him more as the remaining initiates gathered around the red path. There were only ten of them, unlike the much more crowded blue path, which just meant less competition.