“Emallya, Shendal, come and meet your newest sister,” Tallayna called, her voice muted by the door separating them.
Emallya walked slowly into the room where her younger siblings crowded around the bed to get a look at the newest member of the family.
Tallayna looked up, her eyes raking over Emallya’s blood-soaked skirt and her tear- stained face. “Emallya,” fear crept into her mother’s voice. “Where is Shendal?”
“He…” She swallowed hard as her eyes filled again. “Shendal is in Maiadar now.” Maiadar, the realm of the dead, where so many from her village resided.
Grief closed over her mother’s face. Emallya watched Tallayna struggle to control her composure in the presence of the younger children.
Eraden, her brother of only eight years shook his head, vehement denial in his expression. “Shendal cannot be in Maiadar.”
Emallya reached to embrace him, but he pulled away, glaring at her as if it was her fault. Maybe it was. If her magic had come just a few moments sooner, Shendal would still be alive. The emotions in the room swamped Emallya, and the ache in her head built until she could hardly bear it.
She walked away and passed through the front room. The bodies of the Kojen had been removed. By now they would be piled with the rest. She stepped out into the night, ignoring the blue dragon that walked past, gingerly carrying a dead Kojen in its teeth. Rank smoke billowed from the pile of burning beasts.
By the light of the bonfire she drew water from the well and carried it back into the house. It only took a moment to grab a scrub brush, towels, and a cake of soap from the kitchen. While her mother and siblings mourned together in the other room, Emallya sopped up the cold, congealed blood with the towels and scrubbed her brother’s death from the floor until only smooth wooden boards remained.
Three days later she stood with her parents and other villagers as the bodies of the dead were laid to rest. Twenty new graves filled the already crowded yard. Grass hadn’t even begun to grow over those created from the last attack. Emallya stared at the mound of soil covering her brother, barely registering the words that were spoken.
The warm, mid-day sun bathed the grassland in golden light. Emallya glanced at the city of Salendar in the distance. Tall spires, sculpted by the Earth Riders, rose above the damaged city wall where repairs were underway. What had the world been like before the War of Fire? There were tales of the beauty of Salendar, the capital of Sharren, but over fifty years of war and constant repairs had left its mark on everything, even the beautiful cities.
Off to the side the rider who had offered her passage to Galdrilene, the home of the Guardian Dragons, waited. Emallya let her gaze roam over her family. Her father, straight and proud, but full of grief at the loss of his eldest son. Her mother, unbent by years of war and worry, held her newest child in her arms while she buried another. Her brothers and sisters gathered tight together, seeking solace in each other.
As soon as the ceremony was over, Emallya would depart to answer the call. She didn’t even know her new sister’s name; her parents had been too distraught to think of one. It didn’t matter. While they would always be her family, and she was sure word of the name would reach her, Emallya was headed to a new life, a new family.
Three large shadows flashed over her and across the grassland as three dragons flew overhead, the sunlight dancing over their scales. Emallya raised her hand to her forehead, shading her eyes from the bright sky and watched them soar toward the city spires. There was such beauty and grace in the dragons. She watched until they landed at the dragon keep on the east side of the city wall.
The group of gathered mourners began to break up, each family walking away. With a start, Emallya realized it was over. Tallayna hugged her tight. “I feel like I’m losing another child.”
Her father shook his head. “This is an honor, Tallayna.” Never one to show emotions, he gave Emallya a brief, awkward hug.
Eraden embraced her, his skinny arms clasped tightly around her waist. She hugged him back just as fiercely. Would she see them again? Or would she lose more to the Shadow Riders?
Emallya brushed away a tear as she stepped away from Eraden and dropped a kiss on her youngest sister’s forehead. She didn’t want a long goodbye, and it wasn’t like it was forever. Only a few years, three at the most, before she could visit her home again.
She walked to where Bardeck leaned against his dragon, patiently waiting for her. “I am ready to answer the call, Di’shan.”
He inclined his head. “Then I would be honored to assist you, Foundling. “I am sorry your hatching comes on the heels of despair.”
Emallya glanced back at the graves. “There is always despair these days. One must find happiness when they can.” She offered him a sad smile and reached for the saddle.
Within minutes, she sat behind him on the massive gold dragon. Her stomach did a small flip as his wings came down and he launched himself into the air. The ground fell away and she closed her eyes briefly, trying to quiet the irrational fear brought on by flying for the first time.
A large whirlpool of rippling air spun open. Emallya had seen Slides open all her life, but it looked bigger from this vantage point. The dragon flew into it, and the world dissolved into a kaleidoscope of color. It lasted only a moment and then they were out the other side.
Mountains ranged all around them, marching away into the distance. It was the mountain below them that held her attention though. Half the height of those surrounding it, the mountain was an old volcano. A lake filled one end of the caldera and poured off the edge in a waterfall. The horseshoe-shaped ridge was all that remained of the crater rim.
To her right, a vast bay sheltered the shoreline from the worst of the sea’s storms. Dragons raised their voices in welcome to the arrivals, roars reverberating off the walls of the caldera. The openings of many caves fronted by broad ledges filled the inner walls. Dragons representing all six colors of their species occupied many of the ledges as well as the sunny expanse of grass near the lake—gold, blue, red, yellow, green, and silver.
Mernoth glided toward the broad inner terrace of stone that filled the toe of the horseshoe. His strong wings beat the air with heavy strokes as he settled gently on the edge of the terrace. An older woman with strands of gray showing in her red hair walked toward them.
Emallya slid down from Mernoth’s back and studied the older woman. She knew her; everyone did. Natsukynn Erenvain. At close to seven hundred years old, she and her bondmate, Jedrek were the ones that everyone looked to for direction.
Though Natsukynn was old by any standard, her face only showed a few crow’s feet gathered at the corners of her blue eyes. Her Di’shan pendant hung from a silver chain, though no one needed it to know she was a Silver Rider.
“Bardeck, you bring us another Silver. This can only bode well for Galdrilene given how fast the Shadow Dragons reproduce.” Natsukynn’s voice was strong and sure.
“How do you know I’m a Silver?” Were the rumor’s true? Did this woman really read minds the way other people read books? Did she really see the future?
Natsukynn laughed softly. “If I wished to, yes, I could read minds in such a way. Not that I have such an inclination. However, when someone broadcasts their thoughts as strongly as you, I can’t help but hear them. The future though, that’s another story. What we think is the future isn’t always what it seems.”
Emallya frowned. What kind of answer was that?
“As to how I know you’re a Silver, it’s the eyes, child. You have violet eyes. Though Silvers can have other colors, those with violet are always Silver. They’re never called to another color.” She gestured toward the caldera. “And of course my dragon, Afaerynn, has relayed everything that happened in Sharren.”
Emallya turned to look at the massive silver dragon. Her scales showed numerous, tarnished battle scars. How much fighting had the silver seen in the past fifty years? Natsukynn seemed to pick up on her thoughts. A shadow of regret fell
across her face. “I have to take responsibility for each of her scars, for every death both human and dragon that has been the result of this war.”
“Why?”
Natsukynn smiled sadly. “Galdivan happened on my Watch. I missed the signs of his unstable mind. I missed the jealousy that filled him like a disease, and I missed his plans to steal eggs. If I had caught those things, Galdivan would never have been able to create the Shadow Dragons, and we would not be facing what appears to be a never ending war. A war I’m not entirely sure we can win.”
Emallya knew the story; everyone did. “I thought all of Galdrilene took the blame equally because everyone, including the other Dragon Riders and mages, failed to see it.”
“And they do, I suppose. I’m the head of Galdrilene, however, and as far as I’m concerned this falls squarely on my shoulders.” She shook her head. “No matter. Blame, pointed or accepted, will change nothing. You, my dear, have an egg to hatch, although it will be a few days before that will happen. There are some things to learn first and a protocol to follow.”
“My father trained here. I already know the workings of Galdrilene and the responsibility of the call.”
“Be that as it may, we have to make sure for ourselves that every Foundling knows exactly what they’re agreeing to before they hatch a dragon.” Natsukynn waved a plump woman with her blonde hair in a bun forward. “This is Theraia. She is the head of the Foundlings. She will ensure you have whatever you need as well as instruct you in what you need to know.”
Emallya watched Natsukynn walk away before turning to the man who had brought her. “Thank you for offering escort.”
“Always an honor to bring a Foundling to Galdrilene.” Bardeck bowed slightly and kissed her hand, his black hair fell over his forehead and his dark eyes sparkled. “I will stay until the hatching has occurred so that I may carry news of it back to Sharren. Perhaps I will have the chance to speak with you again.”
Theraia shook her head and led Emallya away. “That young man is too smooth for his own good. Half the female riders in the hold have been falling all over him since he hatched Mernoth eight years ago. You would think his charm would wear off after a while.”
“What color are you?” Emallya asked. She tried to remember all the heads of Galdrilene as she had been taught.
“I ride a red, which makes things fun. I’m not tied to any man.” She appraised Emallya. “You’re going to be a Silver though, so you will bondmate with someone.”
Bondmating. It wasn’t something Emallya had ever thought of until that moment. A bondmate was far more than a husband. He and his dragon would be connected to her and her dragon through a bond that would tie them all together. There was no way of knowing who the man would be until it happened. It was like an arranged marriage except this was decided by dragon compatibility and magic. A necessary bond. Only dragons that were part of a bondmate pair could reproduce. In this time of war, the more Silvers the better.
Theraia showed her to a small, simple room with a narrow bed against one wall and a small wardrobe against the other. “I will find some dresses that should do until the Hatching. This will be your room until your draclet chooses a lair. Take a moment to relax, and get your bearings. The mid-day meal will be served soon. I will come back and show you the way to the Dining Hall.”
Bardeck watched Theraia lead Emallya away. Until that moment, he had always felt content with nothing more than his bond with Mernoth. Now he found himself longing for more. Images of Emallya from the past few days flashed through his mind.
“Perhaps there is more for us,” Mernoth sent.
“It’s possible, I suppose. Eight years is a long time to wait. With four other Silvers hatching since you hatched, you would think we would have found our bondmate by now.”
“There are no time limits.”
Bardeck shrugged and looked at the massive golden dragon. “Perhaps. I guess all we can do is wait and see.”
Emallya spent the next few days going over the many things Galdrilene felt she should know before hatching, mostly of which she already knew. Thanks to growing up with a man trained in Galdrilene and near an outlying battle hold, she had learned most of this growing up.
Still, she couldn’t fault Galdrilene for making sure she was well aware of everything like bondmating, which would be best if it happened sooner rather than later. Silvers were vulnerable because of their powers until they had the shield of a bond to keep the emotions and thoughts of others at bay. They made sure she was well aware that even though those in a bondmate pair were the only riders who could have children, babies came rarely to them. Her dream of a house full of children was dashed. And they made sure she understood the danger of the war they faced and what her role would be.
None of it changed her decision to answer the call. The sweet song of the dragon was always in her mind. Without it, she would have died that night in Sharren. She owed her life to the draclet still in its shell; she wouldn’t deny the draclet its life by refusing her call.
When Emallya finally stood before the two heavy doors that led to the Hatching Chamber, she did so without wavering. Natsukynn stood on one side of the closed doors, her bondmate, Jedrek to the other.
Jedrek smiled and said, “Beyond this door, a future you cannot yet comprehend awaits you. Within is a very large chamber with a circle of eggs in the center. Though the chamber is large, only those Hatching and a couple of witnesses are allowed. Hatching is a personal thing.”
Natsukynn picked up the ritual. “Once we open the door, Jedrek and I will step aside. You must step through the doorway and into the chamber of your own free will. Once you are in the chamber, the compulsion to bond with your dragon will overcome you.
“You must be absolutely sure this is the path you wish to take and accept the offered gift of the bond without reservation. If you feel any doubt at all, turn and walk away from this door. At the end of the hall you will find someone ready to guide you from the Dragon Hold. No shame will be on you for your refusal. Shame can only be found in a false acceptance.”
Emallya gazed steady at the door. “I accept the gift of the call without reservation.”
The older couple opened the doors, and Emallya felt an instant pull. She stepped into the massive chamber. There were at least forty eggs within; several of them glowed softly, their humming filling the space. Emallya barely noticed them as she was drawn toward one of the glowing silver eggs. It filled her vision, her mind, her very being. As if compelled, she reached out and touched the satiny shell with her fingers. The room disappeared.
She stood in an ash field of a recently erupted volcano, the rim but a small reminder of the mountain that had once towered in its place. A dragon, its scales faded to almost white, labored to breathe. A clutch of dead eggs were around her. A woman touched the only living egg left and a silver draclet hatched, forming the first human-dragon bond.
Everything swirled and she saw a city rising from the ash; it swirled again and she saw the city, this time finished and beautiful; it swirled again and she watched dragons fall dead into a lake; it swirled once more and Shadow Dragons flew against a rising sun.
With a gasp, Emallya opened her eyes. Even after being told of the ancestral memories her draclet would share upon hatching, nothing prepared her for the rush of emotions that accompanied the Hatching. So much love, happiness, sadness, and fear. Overwhelmed, she knelt on the smooth stone floor and wept without shame.
When she was finally able to gain some control over the emotions, she raised her eyes and took in the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. A silver draclet about the size of a pony gazed back at her with large violet eyes, her damp wings somewhat folded as she stood among the large pieces of silver shell.
Emallya gently touched the soft scales of the newly hatched dragon. They wouldn’t harden until the draclet was almost a year old. Her heart swelled, bringing new tears to her eyes.
Intense hunger filled her along with love. Jedrek motioned h
er forward. “The older dragons have brought freshly killed elk for her to feed on. Follow me.”
Emallya climbed to her feet and started forward. “Come along, Rylin; let us get a meal into you.”
They followed Jedrek up a long, sloping tunnel that let out in the caldera. Rylin caught a whiff of the fresh blood on the breeze and rushed forward. Her dagger-like teeth and claws ripped through the hide to reach the meat underneath.
Emallya smiled fondly at the draclet. They were blended heart and soul until she couldn’t separate herself from the draclet. A deep sense of love and contentment settled over her. This was her dragon; the other half that made her whole. She looked ahead to the many hundreds of years she would likely live and could only smile.
“She’s beautiful.”
Emallya turned to see Bardeck standing next to her. “She is the most beautiful thing in the world.”
Bardeck nodded. “Every Hatchling feels that way about their draclet. What have you named her?”
“Rylin. I do not know why. It just came to me when I first looked at her.”
“The name always seems to come that way. Sometimes I wonder if the dragons already know their names and share it as they hatch.” He looked at her. “Would you like me to fetch your family so they can attend the introduction ceremony that will name you and your dragon to all of Galdrilene?”
“Not all of them will be able to come, but it would be nice to have those who can.”
He smiled. “I would be honored to bring them.”
Bardeck took her hand and started to raise it as if he meant to kiss the back of it. Instead, he froze as a thousand luminescent threads flowed out of each of them and reached for the other.
Tales from Galdrilene 1 New Beginning Page 2