by Jada Fisher
Black Dragon
Rise of the Black Dragon, Book 3
Jada Fisher
Copyright © 2019 Fairfield Publishing
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Except for review quotes, this book may not be reproduced, in whole or in part, without the written consent of the author.
This story is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual people, places, or events is purely coincidental.
Contents
1. Whole New Beginnings
2. Rough Start
3. Lesson Learned
4. It Has to Get Worse Before it Can Get Better
5. What’s in a Name?
6. It’s What’s on the Inside that Counts
7. Dark Wings, They are Descending
8. Long Lost Friends
9. Reunion
10. Through the Grapevine
11. Not Exactly a Crowd Pleaser
12. What Now?
13. Glimpse into the Inferno
14. What Lies Ahead
Thank You
1
Whole New Beginnings
Ukrah couldn’t believe that the academy break was almost over and she was about to start on the path of becoming a dragon rider. The days had rushed by ever since she had gotten her little charge, and even though he hadn’t hatched yet, her life was busier than ever.
Apparently, everyone and their mother was interested in her scarlet egg because no one could really identify it. The initial assumption was that it belonged to a red dragon, but it had a scaled pattern that wasn’t like the smooth shell of those massive dragons, and the tips of each scale were turning a smoky gray. Even Eist’s grandfather was uncertain of what it could be, as he’d never seen one like it in his entire time working in the hatchery.
Ukrah didn’t mind the visitors too much, however, as long as they didn’t touch him. She was fiercely protective of her little unhatched guy, almost like she could already feel him right next to her heart. The only people she really let touch it were the W’allenhauses, Fior, and of course, Crispin.
As soon as she thought of the boy, it was like he heard her, because he burst into her room.
“Look at all these new clothes the tailor just delivered!” he said excitedly, rushing them over to her bed. “They’re for you and me. We had perfectly good clothes already, but Lady W’allenhaus got us these just because!”
He was so happy that she couldn’t help but smile, his cheer as infectious as always. It was like nothing had changed between them since that bizarre moment outside of the hatchery.
Too bad no one else seemed to be able to let go of it like Crispin had.
To her, it felt like everyone was suddenly obsessed with that moment. Dille had him go through the same magical test she’d gone through, and he just sat there in boredom. Eist and Athar delved into a deep research jaunt and did their own tests…nothing. Even Cassinda would randomly surprise the boy around the corner or try to touch him through her magic. Ukrah didn’t know how, but she’d sensed that latter one immediately and snapped at the girl to stop.
Even Tayir was different. He was less snappish about the boy and his comments were more praising. Well…praising by the bird’s usual standards. Despite his complaints about only being used as a translator, the less Ukrah needed him, the poutier he became. Most of the time it seemed like he was waiting impatiently for something, irritated that it hadn’t come yet.
“I assume that the academy will put a lot of wear and tear on all of our things. From what Lady W’allenhaus described, it’s intense.”
“I’m sure it is, but her view might be a bit tilted considering she was almost murdered several times on the premises, and I think the great evil attacked them directly there twice. Or once. I don’t know, it’s hard to always know what’s real and what isn’t.”
Ukrah nodded absently, running her hand over her egg where it was nestled in its own little nest. It had been a couple of months and it still hadn’t hatched. She knew her little guy was going to come out eventually, but she couldn’t help but wonder when.
All the other trainees were going to have hatchlings already. Meanwhile, she was joining them at the start of their second year with no baby to show for it yet.
Oh well. It would all happen in time.
“Here, let me hold the guy while you pack.”
“He’s fine in his nest,” Ukrah said with bemusement, turning away from her writing to look at the boy. But he was already halfway over to her, arms outstretched.
“Why settle for fine when he could have better?” Crispin retorted with a mischievous grin, picking the egg up and hugging it gently before slowly sitting down. Like always, Ukrah was filled with a soothing sort of warmth when she saw the two of them together. Her friend and her little guy, gently rocking back and forth while Crispin hummed.
The last time she had known tenderness like that had been back when her mother was alive. When she’d had some semblance of a family left.
It wasn’t that her village had been unkind to her, at least not until that fateful night, but they’d never been particularly soft with her. When her mother died, it was almost like she had become an adult in their eyes at the ripe old age of nine dry seasons. They took care of her, taught her, but they were never soft with her.
And soft described Crispin perfectly, despite his lanky arms. Despite all the food he constantly ate, he was still a slender, gangly young man. Only his face had really filled out, which further added to his genial look. His big hands cradled her egg perfectly and his voice was always soothing. He told stories to her little guy, and partially to her, and sometimes slept over in a bedroll on her floor.
It was nice, to say the least.
“Hey, I know I’m handsome, but stop staring at me and look at the clothes. We should come up with some way to thank Lady W’allenhaus later.”
“Yeah…” But what did one get a god-woman who had everything, including a secret pregnancy? Although her stomach was just starting to grow swollen, as far as Ukrah knew, she’d been able to keep it under wraps. “Do you think we’ll be allowed to pack our own things, or will they have aides to do that too?”
He shrugged. “I dunno. And does it matter, really? As long as we’ve got the three of us, isn’t that all that matters?”
Ukrah smiled, turning to her clothes, but Tayir let out a scoff from the window.
It’s not going to be just the three of you for long.
Ukrah stared up at the open gates of the academy, a flood of students all around her. While Eist had wanted her to go in just like all the other dragon hopefuls to help her blend in, it was hard to feel like she did considering she was riding in a fairly sturdy wagon.
She wasn’t the only one, thankfully, but it was still clear that most of the students were traveling on foot. Ukrah was tempted to get out and hoof it, but Crispin looked like he was having so much fun that she was loath to spoil it.
So, she stayed put and took everything in. Like usual, she was overwhelmed by the sheer amount of wood in the settled lands. No wonder they were always fighting each other or finding new ways to kill and enslave their fellow men. They didn’t have to spend so much time harvesting resources and conserving what little vegetation there was.
They rolled through the gates, eventually stopping and getting out in a large crowd of other people mostly their age while the aides took their belongings off to wherever they were staying. But as she stepped down onto the ground, Crispin handing her the egg, she had the distinct feeling of unbelonging.
She had thought she’d grown used to being the only desert dweller around, but the point was emphasized as she looked at everyone else. As far as she could tell, almost everyone was native to the land, with only three or four Margaidians, ranging from her skin tone to deeper
and darker than Dille.
One in particular stood out, her skin so pitch that it appeared almost blue when the sunlight hit her high cheekbones. Ukrah had never seen someone like her before, tall and stately and royal. If the desert girl had to guess, she would say the woman had to be approaching her twenties. How odd to have started her journey only now.
Maybe she wouldn’t be as alone as she thought.
But perhaps it was a little soon to say. There was a grand speech, but instead of being given by Elspeth, as Eist had told her would happen, it was a tall man with multiple scars and fiery red hair. Ukrah wondered if he had any relation to Ale’a, or if red hair was just super common in the northern civilized lands.
Apparently, Elspeth had been gone for nearly a week with two others to deal with a crisis in the south. The speaker was a man who was on the Dragon Council, but she had no idea who he was. He seemed to emphasized Elspeth’s absence, saying that if anyone was joining their ranks for a life of glamour or riches that they were on the wrong path. It was a life of fighting and protecting and hardship, and most of them would die before they could ever enjoy the life-extending benefits of their dragons.
All in all, pretty grim stuff.
The mood lightened a bit as she and Crispin were taken on a tour of the dragon academy by Ale’a. It truly was massive, with multiple floors and balconies, wings and rooms, enough to make her head spin. She had no idea how she was supposed to remember it all, as the building seemed almost too large to even be real.
But nothing, absolutely nothing, prepared her for the giant room that was the cafeteria.
She stared in wonder at the table that was just starting to be loaded with food, barely listening as Ale’a explained where dragons ate, as well as mealtimes. There were just so many tables, one right after the other, and she couldn’t imagine what it would be like full of students, staff, and all the food it would take to feed them.
As for those students, none of them ever really said anything, even as they passed by the tables. Ale’a spoke to a few, checking in like Ukrah imagined a guardian would, but they all seemed decidedly distracted and uncomfortable. She hoped that it wasn’t her…but she had a distinct feeling that it was.
By the time Ale’a finished explaining everything and got all their supplies in a pack for them, Ukrah was utterly exhausted. And that was even with Crispin carrying the egg for half the time. It was like maintaining mental walls against all the side-eyes and whispers had taken a physical toll on her.
“Wait, where are we going?” she asked, realizing they were going up a staircase that she had never seen before when she was sure she had spotted other students and their dragons going in a different direction for their quarters.
“Your sponsor is here and wanted to help you get settled into your new quarters. And also probably some sentimental reasons.”
“Sentimental reasons?” Crispin piped up. “What do you mean?”
Ale’a shrugged. “I don’t actually know. I’ve known Eist since she was a child and I still don’t really understand how her mind works.”
“So, she was strange before all that stuff?”
“That stuff?” Ale’a repeated with a chuckle.
“You know, the mystical powers, her ability to commune with the gods…become them even?”
“When I first met Eist, she was outrunning every single other initiate on those short, stubby legs of hers. I didn’t know it at the time, but she was trying to survive her first year by watching people’s mouths and teaching herself anything she missed at night.
“She was a bit mean, definitely closed off, and didn’t trust anyone, so of course, I liked her right away. And at the end of her first year, when she was shot with that arrow and almost died from poison, I decided then I was going to do everything in my power to make sure she didn’t fall behind.
“And even with all that, the woman is still a mystery to me.”
Ukrah didn’t know what to think of that. For all her idolizing of the powerful god-woman, for all her dreams of the woman bathed in fire, Eist had seemed almost entirely normal during the few months that Ukrah had known her. Sometimes it was hard to unite the idea of the infamous god-woman with the stern but kind Lady W’allenhaus. It was also easy to forget that the woman struggled with hearing and made Ukrah wonder if she had some incorrect notions about what crippled folk could or couldn’t do.
“Gee, she’s intimidating enough without someone like you building a narrative like that all around her.”
“Someone like me?”
Ukrah couldn’t help but smile as Crispin blushed vibrantly. “You know, because you’re all, uh, warrior-y and accomplished.”
“Aw, young man, if I didn’t know better, I would say you were complimenting me.”
“Well, I’m certainly not insulting you, that’s for certain.”
“Good, because then I’d have to kill you, you know.”
Crispin sputtered, but a chuckle sounded from the top of the stairs. “Don’t kill one of my charges, Ale’a. That would be a terrible way to end our friendship.”
Ale’a laughed as they joined Eist on the landing. “I can’t deny that logic. Do you have it from here then?”
“Yeah, I got it.”
“Alright, I’ll leave you to it. I’m sure that you might want a few minutes to yourself.”
Ukrah wanted to ask why she would need a moment to herself for just showing them their rooms, but she didn’t ask. Instead, she followed as the woman led them down a different hall, up a different flight of stairs, and then to a series of doors that were fairly far apart.
“These don’t look like dorms,” Crispin said. Ukrah didn’t know what made a dorm or not, so she just nodded.
“That’s because they’re not. These are the suites for interim professors or folks like Ale’a.”
“Then why are we here?”
“Well, because the two of you need to stay together, but it’s against the rules for you to stay in the same room. Ergo, you need a place with two different rooms.” She pulled a key from her belt and opened the door for them, revealing what looked like a house all on its own.
There was a large, open room with places to sit, a small table to eat at, and three other doors that were closed.
“You guys can pick your bedrooms as you like. The third room is supposed to be for a chaperone, but honestly, I don’t think you guys need one.”
Ukrah looked around, feeling grateful but a bit overwhelmed. “What about this is sentimental for you?”
“Well,” the woman murmured, her expression far away. “This was where my parents stayed when they went through the academy.”
“What?” Crispin said. “You mean the dragon riders, right? The ones that banished the Blight before you?”
Ukrah tried not to look overly eager as she listened. She actually didn’t know much about the god-woman’s parents. In the desert, stories ranged from her being born from a dragon egg to falling from the sky. And while of course the woman had to have been birthed by actual humans, Ukrah had just never really thought about it.
“Yes, them. And the weird thing is this very room was where I visited my mother, pretending to be something I wasn’t.”
“Wait, you met your own mother?”
“Yes and no.” Eist shrugged. “I wasn’t exactly myself. I mean I was, but I wasn’t. It’s…kinda hard to explain the experience of being a being outside of time and existence itself. Sometimes I feel like I remember all of it, and sometimes it’s like my mind can’t understand any of it.”
“That sounds confusing.”
She shrugged again, still looking around. Her eyes were everywhere but on them, her hands tracing over things that weren’t there. “It was…is…it’s a part of my life I just have to accept, you know, otherwise it makes living in the now impossible.”
Ukrah had never thought of that. The world Eist had grown up in, the things she had experienced, were all things that no child should go through. And yet she had, an
d now she had to live a normal life like she hadn’t ascended to a plane no mortal should go to.
The young girl’s heart thumped in her chest, almost as if in understanding, and she walked to join the god-woman. “Can you still feel them here?”
Eist spared her a glance before closing her eyes and breathing deeply. “No. They’re gone. They sacrificed every bit of themselves, every echo of their souls, to seal the Blight. And when I devoured the Three and banished that thing, I had to release the last of them from our realm.”
Ukrah stiffened, trying to imagine that. She couldn’t imagine releasing the very essence of her mother from the world, and yet Eist had done just that. She looked at the woman in a new light, seeing all the tragedy and misery that wound around the incredible things she was supposed to have done.
Was that what happened to those that had power? Responsibility? It was beginning to seem so, and at fourteen, Ukrah felt far too young to deal with that.
But she had also been just fourteen when she wiped out her entire village, so perhaps her age didn’t matter.
“Are you going to stay the night with us, Lady W’allenhaus?” Crispin said, walking to join them, completely oblivious to the serious nature of the conversation it seemed. “Be our chaperone on this first night in this scary place?”
“No,” Eist said after another deep breath, and everything seemed to snap back to normal. “No, I think I’ve spent enough time in this room. You two have a good night.”
Ukrah watched her go, and she couldn’t help but wonder if the whole interaction was an omen for how her time at the academy would go. There was a whole history there, a history that wasn’t hers and she didn’t know.
She was going to have to learn fast if she wanted to make it.