Dragon Academy
Dragon Tamers of Pyralis, Volume 1
Devonnie Asher
Published by Devonnie Asher, 2020.
While every precaution has been taken in the preparation of this book, the publisher assumes no responsibility for errors or omissions, or for damages resulting from the use of the information contained herein.
DRAGON ACADEMY
First edition. June 15, 2020.
Copyright © 2020 Devonnie Asher.
Written by Devonnie Asher.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Epilogue
What happens next?
Acknowledgements
About the Author
To younger Devonnie who dreamed of being an author someday. We did it.
Chapter 1
Many people avoided the Forbidden Ruins out of fear, but I wasn’t like “many people.”
The forest was good cover as I moved deftly between tree branches. Like the drumbeat of a Royal Militia procession, my heart was loud in my ears. My missions were usually either difficult or dangerous. This one was an unsettling combination of the two.
Up ahead, sunlight streamed through the trees.
The forest fell away suddenly—the abrupt stop nearly sent me reeling to the ground. In front of me lay a clearing that no amount of description from Hakan could have prepared me for.
The Forbidden Ruins—as he had described it—were supposed to be a relic of times past. Nearly two centuries ago, Pyralis had almost fallen to an enemy nation. Their dragons had scourged the land with their breath of black death, destroying homes and wildlife. Hakan’s description had left out one crucial thing. (Part of me wondered if he even knew, that old coot hadn’t left the village in years.)
The Ruins looked as if the attack had happened yesterday.
The clearing seemed to stretch on for leagues. The earth was blacker than squid ink, and no flowers or trees grew in the clearing. Even the rocks seemed glum. All that remained was the charred skeleton of a village, slowly suffocating in the pungent smell of ash and death.
The knot in my stomach tightened into numbness. Our land had been peaceful ever since the Dragon Guard had fought off those enemy dragons. But this clearing was a reminder of just how recent it all was. These villagers had lost everything, most even their lives. An all too familiar pain gripped my heart.
I drew in a few deep breaths to distract me. The sound of footsteps beneath me brought me back the present, reminding me of my mission.
The footsteps belonged to a Royal Militia soldier. A single gold ribbon glistened on the hilt of his sword, identifying him as the lowest rank. He marched along the perimeter of the clearing, dragging his feet and whistling a tune. I paused, just in case he had any higher-ranking friends within earshot.
I had a death grip on the knife strapped to my thigh.
The golden hilt was engraved with the letter K—for my first name, Kaos—and had been a gift from my father for graduating at the top of my combat class seven years ago. I felt his power within me whenever I touched it.
Lucky for me, lone ribbon was a lone soldier.
Armed with the powder Hakan had made, I doused the soldier with it when he passed below me again. The translucent concoction glistened in the sunlight.
Within seconds, he fell to the ground like a log.
Hopping down from the tree, I sprinted towards the nearest ruin for cover. My feet were jelly by the time I ducked into the stonework structure.
If I had known that getting into the Ruins would be that easy, I wouldn’t have spent hours practicing my sparring and stealth last night. My mission was far from over, but breaching the perimeter was the hardest part.
Maybe I could make it back to the village in time for lunch.
Despite the danger and difficulty, I had taken this mission before Hakan could finish describing it. A merchant from a nearby village had offered him a huge sum of coin to make a potion that would save his dying wife from a deadly strain of Pley Virus. In exchange for getting him the rare flower he needed, Hakan and I would split the coin fifty-fifty.
The money was enough to take me just shy of my goal, cutting down an almost four-year saving plan to just two years. So, it didn’t matter that the flower only grew in the Ruins, what was supposed to be one of the most heavily guarded places in our province. I had to do it.
As for the flowers, I had never seen them before.
Apparently, they were indigenous to Shadow Country and thrived in the scourged earth that killed everything else. He said I would find them in the dark, dry corner of a crumbled building.
I had an hour until the soldier woke up from the sleep potion. I would be far away when he did. This was already too easy.
Biting my lip to stifle a chuckle, I stood on my tiptoes to look out a nearby window. Despite their age, dozens of the buildings were still intact. This search had to be quick.
The building I had ducked into turned out to be a dud, as were the other six that I visited after that.
There had to be a better way to figure this out.
I climbed to the highest elevation I could find—it looked like the remnant of a windmill—and surveyed the ruins. Based on Hakan’s description, I had to find a building that was still intact enough to keep inside warm and dry. That narrowed down my search to two buildings.
The only problem? They were on opposite sides of the clearing.
Time was tight. Even if I sprinted, I wasn’t sure I could visit them both.
Saving had been going horribly, and good jobs that paid well were hard to come by. If I didn’t find the flower, it would take me another two or three years to save enough money to buy my spot in Placement School. By then, I would be nineteen or twenty, too old to attend.
Yet, if I got caught sneaking around the Ruins, I was as good as dead.
By way of a decree from the Fire Drakken, the Royal Militia had the power to do anything they wanted to citizens found breaking the law. That fear kept most Pyralians in line. The ones who weren’t afraid—the ones like me—often disappeared without a trace.
There would be a death today.
Either I would die, or my dream would.
But I had already died once before. Death didn’t scare me.
Failing my father did.
I flipped a coin to choose which of the buildings I would visit first.
I BROKE OUT IN A MAD sprint towards the left-most, bobbing and weaving between fallen pillars and crumbling walls.
Even in this dilapidated state, I was able to make out the structure of the village.
This village had been a Tertaro one, like mine. The people who had lived here belonged to the Fourth Order—they were laborers, farmers and sheepherders. Two centuries ago, this village had been filled with people like Hakan and I, probably slaving away for someone of a higher order, like the merchant who had given us this mission.
The Ruins told me the story of its people, and my eyes burned. The land still remembered what had happened here. Centuries later, it still hadn’t forgotten.
; Making it to the first building was a welcome distraction from the web of thoughts.
The stonework was still mostly intact, with a small courtyard in the front that opened into a large room adjoined by several smaller ones. Padding carefully through the ruins, I searched for my prize. There were many dark, dry places here.
Apparently, they weren’t dark or dry enough.
“Damn it!” I kicked the nearest stone in frustration.
I was down to the wire now.
The next building looked like a five-minute run across the clearing. I was so tired that the rucksack of supplies strapped to my back felt like a millstone.
The burning in my eyes returned, just this time I actually felt the tears running down my cheeks. They tasted like failure.
My watch chimed, reminding me that I was now down to my last fifteen minutes. That was enough time to make my escape and get deep into the forest before the soldier came to.
But that would mean giving up on my dream. The dream I had from the day I was old enough to think. The dream that I’d been risking my life to accomplish for more than half a decade. Achieving it was the only way I could make sense of what happened to my father. To my mother. To me.
I had to see this through,
After a few moments to wipe away those wretched tears, I started sprinting towards the next building. If I failed it would have to be because the flowers weren’t actually here.
Not that I was too scared to find them.
THE RUN TOOK EVERY ounce of my strength.
When I made it into the building, I collapsed face-first into the packed earth floor. Breathing was hard, it was like air had become soot on the way over here. I rolled over, searching for a better way to catch my breath.
This building was much smaller than the last. There was only one room adjoined to the main one. The ceiling was cracked but not compromised—not a ray of sunlight broke through. This had to be it.
Stumbling to my feet, I looked around expectantly. There was not much to see—the corners of the house were empty.
My heart sunk.
The back room was my last hope.
If the flowers weren’t there, all this would have been in vain.
I walked into the room gingerly, ducking under a collapsing decorative pillar. The world was moving in slow motion.
When the room came into view, my breath caught.
A twinkling purple light illuminated the farthest corner of the room. It pulled me in like a homing beacon, and as knelt to inspect the light’s source, Hakan’s words filtered into my mind.
You’ll know you’ve found them because their glow illuminates your soul.
My insides were warm. An odd energy had flooded my blood, burning away all the tiredness I had felt. Was this what he meant?
There were more flowers growing here than I expected. They sprung from the exposed earth in bundles of three blossoms, rising as high as my knees. Ignatia flowers, as Hakan said they were called, were rare in the country that they were originally from.
Nectar picked from them while they bloomed possessed healing properties, while the liquid that oozed from its closed buds was poisonous. The ethereal-looking pink blossoms gave both life and death.
After getting the special pouch from my rucksack, I reached out to pick the first bunch.
A strange sound stopped in me in my tracks.
It was low, but sharp. Like the sound of a knife hitting a tree bark, if you heard it from a distance. It stopped almost as soon as it started, but I was certain that it emanated from the patch of flowers.
Had Hakan forgotten to tell me something? Did these flowers have natural defenses? My father used to tell me stories of foreign plants that seemed to have a mind of their own.
Krrrk, there it was again.
Instinctively, I reached for my blade.
Krrrrrk, Krrrrrrk.
This one was the loudest, it sounded like a huge rip. Oddly, it reminded me of the time I had accidentally stepped on a quail egg while hunting a wild boar. The sound had ripped through the quiet forest so loudly that my mark eluded me.
To my horror, the flower patch began to shake vigorously.
I must’ve looked crazy, kneeling in front of a glowing, shaking flower bush with a six-inch knife in one hand and a cloth pouch in the other.
With gritted teeth, I braced myself for the impact.
I expected a thorny tendril or a puff of poison dust.
Instead, a wet, pale-skinned creature wriggled out of the flower patch.
It looked no bigger than a mongoose, with the slimy skin of a newt.
What the hell?
Had the flower patch just birthed this strange thing? My mouth was dry.
The little thing was stumbling around blindly. In the dull glow of the room, I could see that its eyes were pasted shut.
“You need to open your eyes, little guy,” I cooed, surprising myself.
Its serpentine head flicked around at the sound of my voice. The creature was still for a few heartbeats, then bounded over to me with surprising coordination.
As it got closer its eyes opened, piercing me with an amethyst gaze.
That was when I recognized it.
It was a baby dragon.
THE BURST OF ENERGY was back.
The money from this mission would put me close to my goal, but selling a baby dragon? Hakan and I would be set until I graduated from the Academy.
This dragonling was my golden ticket.
With my blade, I parted the patch of flowers to reveal what I had suspected.
The sound I had heard earlier hadn’t been the Ignatia flowers trying to attack me—gosh, what a stupid thought that had been—it was this little guy breaking out of his shell. In between the roots of the flowers lay shards of a crystal-like black shell.
“What are you doing here, little guy?” I leaned down, running a hand along its head. The skin was smooth and sticky.
It peeped back, then bit into my knee. It didn’t hurt, but I bet the little sucker hoped that it did.
“What was that for?” I said, and somehow from the glint in its eyes I understood. “You’re a girl, not a guy.”
The dragonling’s face softened, and it opened its mouth playfully, revealing a split tongue.
“My apologies, m’lady,” I said. The dragon nuzzled against my hand.
I enjoyed cuddling her more than I should have.
A newly-hatched dragon was something like a priceless pearl. They were untamed and malleable, surpassed in value only by an actual dragon egg. This dragonling would grow into one of the majestic creatures that ruled the skies in service to His Majesty’s Dragon Guard, or guard our shores with the Royal Militia.
Dragon Guard service was my birthright. At seventeen, I should have already graduated from Placement School. But life doesn’t always work out the way you want it to. This dragonling was the silver lining in my grey sky.
A black-market trader would pay me my weight in gold for her. I could get into Placement School, support myself throughout the two year-long training and still have enough money left to cover tuition at the Dragon Guard Academy.
All my problems were solved.
It still amazed me that huge, powerful dragons started out so small. Even my father’s fearsome dragon, Jairyn, had been this small. When I was a child, I had measured size relative to Jairyn.
Unconsciously, I still did sometimes. One day, I would have my own dragon. Hopefully, the one I got was a tad better looking than this one.
“Do you want to come with me?” I asked, though she didn’t have much choice.
To my surprise, the dragonling yipped, wagging its tail in agreement. This would be easier than I expected.
Quickly, I collected as many Ignatia blooms as the pouch could hold. I stowed it away delicately, then turned to my pot of gold.
“We can’t let them see us getting out of here, okay?”
She looked at me with a serious face, seeming to understand me.
&
nbsp; “I’m going to pick you up and put you in my rucksack.”
She weighed only a few pounds, writhing playfully against my grasp. She sank her teeth into the flesh beneath my thumb, and unlike the first time, it hurt.
I was about to scold her, when the piercing sound of a horn cut through the silence of the clearing. My skin tingled all over, coldness seizing my stomach. Even the dragonling in my hands was scared stiff.
That sound was seared into my memory.
It was the Royal Militia’s war-horn, which could only mean one thing.
The lone soldier was awake, and calling for reinforcements.
I’d been found out.
Chapter 2
I was at a loss. There was no way for me to know which direction the reinforcements would come from.
As I bounded to the nearest edge of the forest, I silently cursed myself for not coming up with a contingency plan in case something like this happened.
The dragonling was tucked away in my rucksack, wrapped up in a blanket and pressed against my back—I could feel her body heat. Strangely, it was a calming feeling. Comforting almost. Even though I knew I was in danger, having her made it just a little better.
Trespassing in the Forbidden Ruins was one thing, but removing something as precious as a newborn dragon from Government Lands was enough to get me sent to the gallows. I had just stolen from the crown.
I was in deep.
There was no time to think it through now. My first priority was getting us out of the forest and back to my village. When I got home, Hakan would help me come up with a plan to quietly sell the dragon and start my new life.
He always had a plan.
After an adrenaline-fueled dash into the forest, I scaled a tree and leaped on to the nearest branch, then started vaulting between trees to make my getaway. The plan was to head north from the clearing, then double back in a wide arc, hopefully evading the soldiers along the way.
Despite their training, the Royal Militia could be superbly slow. My father often said that they were Dragon Guard rejects. I had three generations of Dragon Guard blood flowing through my veins.
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