Spirit (Legend of the Dragons Book 1)

by Denelle Elison

  Adriahnna inhaled at the implication, realizing that he was probably right, for who else could this young child be? Lord Tristeil’s son had gone missing about seven-and-a-half years ago, and the connection the two children shared would make sense.

  Rinald watched his wife, remembering that eventful day after Rinald had yanked his daughter free of Lord Tristeil’s grasp. Lord Triesteil dropped to his knees and placed his face in his hands asking for Daniel once again, telling Rinald that his three-year-old son, Tristan, had gone missing.

  Tristan and Briahnna had been inseparable since the day Tristan had suddenly showed up at the palace when he was only two-and-a-half years old. Anytime Tristan had something that Briahnna wanted, he would give it to her. When they were together, their hands were never separated, and the King swore that they could communicate silently.

  When Daniel led everyone to the forest where Tristan’s trace ended, King Rinald knew it was too late. The forest was impenetrable. And by the time they reached the border crossings, the boy would most likely be too far away. Daniel could not trace long distances outside of their forest protection.

  . . .

  Briahnna shuffled her food around her plate. “Is Jerrick going to stay with us?”

  Jerrick’s head jerked up from his food upon hearing her question. He was surrounded by Briahnna’s family: her brother, Darian, and two sisters.

  “Briahnna, we think Jerrick might belong to Lord and Lady Tristeil. They lost their son seven-and-a-half years ago, and the likeness and coincidence of it all seems too close to ignore,” King Rinald said, gauging Jerrick’s reaction. Jerrick seemed to be shocked because he dropped his fork with a clank on his plate.

  “Do you remember the boy Tristan of Tristeil?” asked the King.

  “No.”

  “Well, we think that was Jerrick’s given name before he was taken. He disappeared while at the market with his father.” The family sat listening to Rinald’s story of the lost boy.

  Jerrick’s anxiety rushed through Briahnna. “Are you okay, Jerrick?” she asked.

  Not really knowing the proper way to be excused, Jerrick simply stood. “I want to go to my room if that’s okay.”

  “Of course.” Addressing the guard at the door, the King asked, “Reed, will you please escort Jerrick to his room?”

  With a bow, Reed followed Jerrick.

  Briahnna could feel Jerrick’s fear flowing through him when he fled the dining room. She did not like Lord Tristeil. He was a tall muscular man, with loud, outspoken mannerisms. She couldn’t picture him with a child. He always seemed angry. “He’s a horrible man,” said Briahnna in a small and quiet voice.

  “I agree,” Emiliya stated from across the table, sitting next to her husband.

  “Girls,” Adriahnna said, looking at them both. “Since Lord Tristeil lost his son, he has not been the same. However…” Her worried look told the King that she felt the same as her daughters.

  “We cannot keep their child from them, Adriahnna, no matter how we might feel toward the man. Maybe this will help heal inner wounds,” said Rinald.

  . . .

  When King Rinald made a visit the next morning to Lord and Lady Tristeil, they were elated. They didn’t even question that the boy was their son. They were so desperate to get their son back. Arrangements were made to dine together at the palace later that same evening.

  Bri’s sisters all departed to their own homes, cities, and estates after Rinald returned from his visit with the Tristeils.

  After saying goodbye to her sisters, Briahnna went in search of Jerrick. She was pulled to his temporary room. He opened the door before she knocked.

  “Hi,” he said, smiling because she came to find him.

  She returned his smile and looked at the floor. “My father visited your father this morning,” she said, trying to hide her sadness.

  “You don’t like him,” said Jerrick.

  “I don’t really know him,” she said with a shrug of her shoulders. “He’s a little loud…aaaand big.”

  But you get to come over and have lessons with me everyday!” she said suddenly elated, changing the subject. “I have friends that come and have lessons with me. My father says it helps to keep me from getting lonely. Now he’s making arrangements for some boys to have lessons with us. That way you won’t have to be with just me and my friends.”

  He smiled at her enthusiasm. She had a contagious personality. “Ok. Sounds like it will be fun.” But he couldn’t hide his anxiety.

  “What?” she asked.

  “I don’t know very much,” he said. “I don’t even know how to read, and I don’t know about your kingdom.”

  “It’s your kingdom too,” Briahnna said, looking at his hesitant face. “I’ll help you with everything.”

  Jerrick turned around and looked out of his window. “How come we have never felt each other before two nights ago?”

  “My father and I discussed this last evening,” she said, excited to tell him her theories. “We have a protection around Mageia. It’s the forest. The protection placed in the forest keeps intruders from the other three kingdoms away. It’s magic and is surrounded with an impenetrable shield. It‘s one of the reasons you were not found. Daniel, our tracker, is an earth mage and can track magiks. But since he can’t enter the forest it was too late to find you outside of it. He can’t track very far outside of the forest. There is a road into Mageia for trade with the other kingdoms, but it’s heavily guarded. We don’t know how your trace ended at the forest. Apparently someone very powerful was able to lift the shield somehow and cross through it.

  “That night I found you was the first night you entered our kingdom isn’t it?” she asked.

  “Yes,” he said.

  “So who lifted the shield?” she asked.

  Jerrick shrugged and shook his head. “I don’t know. I didn’t know anything about it.”

  Briahnna paused thoughtfully then said, “I felt you after you passed through the forest. The forest must block our connection.”

  “Oh.”

  “Are you glad you get to come back for lessons?” she asked.

  “Very.”

  “Good. Because I think it would be terrible to not see each other often,” she said with a smile. “Come on. Let’s go play.”

  He couldn’t hide his excitement at the thought of running out and experimenting with their magic together.

  That evening Jerrick was introduced to his parents who called him Tristan right away. Briahnna felt Jerrick cringe at the strange name. She couldn’t imagine calling him Tristan either.

  King Rinald asked Jerrick, politely, if Jerrick was the name with which he wished to be addressed. He looked at the ground and nodded his head. His parents then agreed to call him Jerrick.

  Jerrick had his mother’s blond hair, but the rest of his features were a sharp resemblance to Lord Tristeil.

  Lord Tristeil and his wife took Jerrick home that evening.

  . . .

  Briahnna was anxious all evening. She couldn’t tell if it was her anxiety or Jerrick’s. She worried over him until it was time to retire for the night.

  Once again after Gabriela turned down her bed and helped her into her nightdress, Briahnna escaped out of the window. She had to make sure he was okay.

  She made her way safely to his home. It was a short distance from the palace. Safe walking distance, she thought. She waited under the window she knew to be his until she saw it open and his head poke out.

  “Briahnna? Are you down there?” Jerrick whispered loudly.

  “Yes. I’m sorry. I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” she whispered back.

  “Sure. They’re pretty nice,” he stated with little emotion.

  “Okay…well, I’d better go.”

  “Wait!” Jerrick stopped her. “You’re out all by yourself?”

  “Yes…I…just…I don’t know. I was worried.”

  “Just a minute, I’m coming down. You shouldn’t be out
by yourself. I need to take you back,” Jerrick insisted as he wiggled out of his window and made his way down a tree near the rooftop under the window. It was one of the largest estates in the city. The Tresteils were one of the wealthiest and most powerful families in the kingdom. Lord Tresteil was an Elder, born into position. They upheld law and tradition, and were consulted in dire times.

  “You don’t have to take me back. I’ll be fine. I don’t want you to get into trouble on your first day home,” she said.

  “No.” He glared at her and took her hand, leading her back to the palace. “I’ll be fine. I promise. Do you promise not to come alone after dark anymore?” he asked.

  “I promise,” Briahnna said sheepishly, and then she straightened. “Hey, you’re not in charge of me. You can’t tell me what to do,” she said. “You’re the same age as me, remember?”

  He smiled a little, “Yeah, but I’m older, remember?” he mocked her.

  They giggled as they made their way to the palace.

  He lingered at her window, making sure that she got into bed and didn’t follow him to his new home, then he climbed down the tree and left.

  “Tristan!” yelled Lord Tristeil when Jerrick made his way down the path to the Tristeil estate. The Lord of the estate was waiting outside of the gate to his home. As Jerrick looked upon the man who claimed to be his father he knew he was in for a good punishment. He was not a fool. His father had that look on his face. Jerrick resigned himself to the fact that his fate lay with this man.

  Ignoring his better judgment, he walked up to Lord Tristeil, looked up into the big man’s eyes and said, “My name is Jerrick.”

  . . .

  Briahnna woke with start, heart racing and mind frantic. But she couldn’t recall what her nightmare was about. She felt around in her mind trying to feel Jerrick and decided that he must be asleep. She turned over and saw sparkling, unearthly green eyes staring back at her through the window. She gasped, blinked for a long second and looked back out of the window. Upon seeing nothing, she shook her head, sure she must have been seeing things, because it looked as if whatever she saw was floating, or maybe even flying…She shook her head again, turned over and fell asleep.

  The next morning Lord Tristeil sent word to the King that Jerrick would not be attending lessons that day or the next. They wanted to spend a little time alone with their son.

  Chapter 4

  Jerrick walked into his father’s sparring room, stretching out his sore muscles. The night he returned from taking Briahnna back to the palace his father was livid that he had snuck out and didn’t hesitate to show it. Jerrick was bruised head to toe again. So his father gave him a day to rest and heal. His mother rubbed a salve over his battered body.

  He noticed how timid she was, how her eyes were always cast down. They were dull and practically lifeless, as if the light had been snuffed out of them. Jerrick could understand, of course, her having lived here with his father for who knows how many years. She must have been beautiful at one time in her life, but now her face held a gaunt and weary look about it.

  Jerrick should have hurt more, should have been more sore, but his body always healed fast. He’d never thought about it before he returned to Mageia. He figured it had something to do with his magic.

  Jerrick stood watching his father grab a sword off of the wall. Lord Tristeil turned to Jerrick and tossed the sword at him. It turned end over end as it soared toward Jerrick and he snatched it out of the air before it impaled him. He dropped it immediately giving his father an astounded look. He couldn’t believe his father would actually throw a sword at him. He had caught it by its blade which sliced threw his hand. Blood made a steady course down his hand and Jerrick stood transfixed watching it. Looking up, he glared at his father.

  Lord Tristeil snorted, “First rule of combat don’t get hurt before your opponent.”

  Jerrick kicked the sword away from him holding his hand to his stomach, and looked at the wall full of weaponry. “There are plenty of wooden swords,” he said pointing at the wall. “How come we can’t use those to practice?”

  Lord Tristeil was in front of him in two quick strides, grabbing his tunic in a large fist and lifting Jerrick so that he was face to face with him. To no avail, Jerrick tried to move his head as far away from his father as he possibly could, but Lord Tristeil followed his movement, making sure he was right in the boy’s face. “What kept you from being punished every day as a street thief?” he growled.

  Jerrick glared at him. “I was the best.”

  Lord Tristeil dropped him and turned away, kicking the sword back to where Jerrick had fallen on his haunches and then grabbed his own sword off of the wall. Tristeil turned sharply and stood ready.

  Jerrick grabbed his sword off of the floor, and scrambled to his feet.

  “Every noble boy in this Kingdom has been taught swordplay and weaponry for years now,” Lord Tristeil said. “Years, Tristan.” Jerrick flinched. “If you’re to be the best you have to know how to survive. What better way to learn how to survive, than with a real sword?

  “Everyday when you come home from lessons, you will spar and practice weaponry for three hours.” Jerrick’s jaw dropped. “Then you will practice your magic for one hour, under my tutelage. I know more about your magic than you could ever learn at that blasted castle, but it will be good to learn with the princess and find out everything that she’s learning and capable of. As time passes, we will explore our archives. I have much stored away and much to teach you about where you come from and why you were born.” He walked forward pointing his sword at Jerrick’s throat. “You will tell no one about any of this. Understand?”

  Jerrick gulped and nodded at his father.

  “Good. We begin.” Lord Tristeil took a step back and gestured for Jerrick to hold his sword up at the ready. “I want you to tell me what you learned while you were with these Gofroud brothers.”

  Jerrick took a leaping step forward, gripping his sword tightly in both hands and knocked it as hard as he could against his father’s, catching his father off guard. Living in the streets made Jerrick strong. He had to fight for his life many times, and he was able to knock the sword out of Tristeil’s hands, kicking Tristeil in the knee as soon as the sword fell from his father’s grasp. Lord Tristeil grunted in pain while he grasped for his knee and fell to the floor. Jerrick held his sword at his father’s throat and Tristeil looked up at him with wide eyes as Jerrick growled, “How to survive!”

  Lord Tristeil’s eyes flashed dangerously and his mouth turned up at the corners. He grabbed the blade of Jerrick’s sword with his bare hand, yanking Jerrick forward, using his good leg to sweep Jerrick’s legs out from underneath of him. Jerrick landed flat on his back with a “whoosh” when the air was knocked out of him. Before Jerrick knew it, Lord Tristeil was over him, his foot on Jerrick’s chest, pinning him to the ground.

  “Pull a stunt like that again, and I won’t be so kind,” Lord Tristeil said dangerously, removing his foot, grabbing Jerrick by the hair, and standing him up.

  “Living on the streets obviously taught you how to find your opponent’s weaknesses,” Tristeil said as he slightly limped backward, blood dripped from his own hand, and he returned to his position. “This could be to your advantage. There really are no rules when it comes to fighting. The noblemen believe in fair play and sportsmanship. You know how to fight to survive. You will learn to add your street skills discretely with your weaponry, and you will be the best.”

  Chapter 5

  Briahnna didn’t see Jerrick for two whole days after he left the palace, and she couldn’t really tell what he was feeling. All that she could feel from him was a resigned indifference.

  When he finally returned to the palace to attend lessons with her, he didn’t say much. She did not fret, however, because he was happy to see her again. She was relieved and happy to see him too.

  Briahnna and Jerrick’s lessons were attended with children, both boys and girls, from surrounding
estates within the city. The boys, he learned, were Samson of Reginald and Abriel of Darrah. The girls were Abigail of Darrah, twin of Abriel, and Cassandra of Zelida.

  He and the other boys were tutored with the girls in History, Literature, and Mathematics. The boys were then escorted to another part of the palace to spar, while the girls went to music lessons. Briahnna’s wishes were disregarded when she threw a fit about this, because her mother insisted that she have nothing to do with sparring and that the pianoforte was far more important. Jerrick couldn’t argue with the Queen on that account. He had heard her play while he was staying at the palace and thought that he had never heard a more beautiful sound.

  Daniel, the earth mage, usually taught sparring, but he had to leave on missions for the king every so often. So Reed, the head of the palace guard, worked with them when Daniel was gone. Jerrick and Briahnna worked with their powers together after the other children left for the day. Then Jerrick returned to his parent’s estate.

  This was the routine as days, weeks, and months passed.

  Jerrick was a fast learner and a lot of the skills he learned on the streets served him well. His potential seemed to be endless. He had always been able to read people fairly well as he observed them from a distance, learning their strengths and weaknesses.

  On one particular day after Jerrick had been observing Samson and Abriel, Jerrick found them in the sparring room right before lessons. Samson had been making it difficult for Jerrick to fit in and enjoy his lessons, for word had spread quickly through Mageia about the son of Lord and Lady Tristeil. And everyone knew that he had been a street thief. Abriel always told Samson to stop his taunting and teasing, but never got too worked up, because he wasn’t very sure about Jerrick either.

  “I wanted that sword, Samson,” Jerrick said, looking at the wooden sword Samson held.

  “Hmm,” Samson mumbled gazing at the sword in his hand. “No, I like it. I think I’ll keep it.”