by CC Rose
Chapter 8
Stepping into the Dinner Hall, I spotted Xavier by the food table. He dipped his head, as I sheepishly walked towards him.
“How did your morning go?” He asked, reaching for several meat rolls.
“Good,” I said, reaching for a chicken roll. “Karson took me horse riding in the west,” I said, seating at a table, glancing around the empty hall of students.
“Neat,” Xavier scanned over me before turning his attention to his meal. For him, it was finished in three mouthfuls and he started on his second roll. “These are real nice today.” He added trying to sound less hungered and more relaxed.
“They’re not bad. So why didn’t you go with the others?”
“Oh, Er … had to wait. The shuttle was full; I’ll head over on the next shuttle.”
I nodded to his tone, a little shy as he started on his third roll. Something about the foods in the east were different, perfect came to mind, along with; what have I been doing, avoiding things like this.
“You looking forward to spending the two months here with Karson and a bunch of Royals.”
“Royals?”
“Yeah, you know the festive always bring too many Royals to EzRah. They end up having to stay here, which of course becomes the place to be, having parties, functions and who knows what else they get up to.”
“Why would they do that? Don’t they fight the war?”
“Some do … most that are not spoilt. There are few who participate, but it isn’t that bad. The war is just … there.” He shrugged and finished off his fourth roll, watching me as I finished off my mere one and dabbed at my mouth with the napkin. “You know Rehema, you’re almost royalty yourself.”
“Almost? You sound unsure.”
“No. It’s just, you’re Dy’Monian. The first of the herd and well, that gives you first spot on the Royals line.”
“Oh, I never thought of it like that.”
“Well, just to let you know, you act royal at times. It’s nice to see.”
I raised my brow, was he being funny? La’Kera’s snort told me I was over thinking it.
“So what is your plan for in EzRah … you and Alyssa seem close?”
His cheeks turned pink, his eyes hinged on a spark, and a smile, tugged on his lips. “Oh, we’re … we might meet up. Not sure yet. She lives a few streets over from me. Tobias lives closer to her.”
“Well, I wish I was going. I would meet up with you all, and then … I don’t know. Go some place better than training.”
“They have shows most every night in EzRah. The best theatre shows in the lands, so I’m told.”
“They do tells in acting?” I questioned. He nodded, not hearing my question.
“And what are you up to for the rest of the day?”
“Oh, Karson said he’d come find me. Seems I have to do a lot of catching up in my study.”
“Bummer, maybe you could outwit him.” Xavier tilted his head, winking a blue eye, before nodding to the nearly empty hall of students.
“I’m Dy’Monian. I would stick out like a dragon’s thorny tail.”
He laughed just as Karson made his way towards me. I took in his change of clothes. Okay, so it wasn’t work out breeches and vest, but light leathers and a simple tunic that held an embroidered fire on his chest. For Karson it revealed his broad chest, and narrowing of his hips. A lumberjack maybe, but a Ryder through and through. Karson paused at our table, nodding to Xavier, who flushed at the sudden acknowledgement.
Karson turned his eyes to me. “We can head to the history building.”
“Sure, let’s see what assignment you can muster up for me.” I waved Xavier off. “Good luck on your holiday. And give my greetings to Alyssa and Tobias when you see them.”
“W-Will d-do,” he smiled feebly and blinked hastily with Karson in front of him. Odd. I didn’t feel all that bothered by Karson, Xavier on the other hand reminded me of—
“You ready?” Karson distracted my thoughts, and I was walking out the hall. Crossing the courtyard and heading to the south.
“So any favourite legends you want me to read about?”
Karson gave me a puzzled look as he veered to the History building. “That is up to you and what you believe is a legend.”
“Aren’t they all legends?”
His lips pulled to the side, making my heart flutter. I blushed to look away. Thankful I was following, and didn’t have to keep pace with him, just—wow. He was able to make me fault in my steps. The smile was gone when I peeked.
“You may find some you dislike, or ones that you disagree with altogether.”
“Do I have to read?” I pouted as we climbed the stairs of the history building.
“You don’t like reading?” he asked.
“Um … well, sort of … not all the time.” We turned along the hall of level two, and into room five.
“If you wish to read, I won’t stop you.” Amusement lingered in his voice as he guided me to a study area. The room was for a class of younger students, which had me roll my eyes, seeing the small sitting area with a mat that the young ones would have sat around while the teacher—hopefully not Karson—would read aloud to them.
I raised a sceptical brow. Please tell me he isn’t reading to me.
“We have to start on the basics. And you said before; you have the knowledge of a second grader. Here …” He gestured to a table, facing a wall that held a large black slate, chalk and a duster were in view. The last days of work still visible and a few simple drawings were in the lower corner. Karson slipped a simple volume towards me.
“Take your time. And answer a few questions when you’re done.” He tapped a parchment beside me. How did he bring that here and me not see it?
You were paying more attention to his shoulders than what he had in his hands; pointed out La’Kera, laughing at my shock. The buzz in my head, the way my stomach made odd flips and tugs on my skin. Is this a mating desire?
I had to hide a smile.
Something like that, I mused, and turned to the task.
My thoughts lingering on Tobias. He mentioned Karson was a hundred years old. After passing into their fifties, most, if not all Ryders, would have had books written about them somewhere, which had me wonder; what was written about him? Karson had taken a seat in a comfortable chair—not the mat chair. He flicked through a thicker volume as if it were a simple read, putting his feet up to settle in further, making it look easy. I touched the book he wanted me to read and glanced to the list of questions he had placed out. I chewed my lip in thought, wondering if asking Karson about himself was a good thing. If I was able to ask him something of himself, what would I ask? The list of possible questions stirred inside of me. Did he have children? Was he married? And if he wasn’t … I couldn’t think straight. His good looks were a distraction. From his sculptured lips to his masculine body. All I wanted to do was take his clothes off, least just to see if his chest was bare of hair.
Distractions, La’Kera was suttle, a little amused, she had to keep warning me and found the sensation as before, confusing and partly uncertain as I was. Perhaps you should find a mate … a different mate. You must not take on your mentor. That is a bad omen to Drae’Gon.
I know. I rolled my eyes and refocused on the book. History. I sighed at the idea of learning about the past. I knew the basics.
A hundred years after the elves and dragons bonded, the forefathers from the Lands of the Lost arrived on shore, calling it, The Land of the Tame eight hundred years ago now. It was said that the first two hundred years, held many unneeded wars, and confusion on all sides. The elves, the dwarfs, the dragons, even the centaurs had not seen dangorians before that day. In the end, a peace was made when young Nicholas wandered into a hidden chamber and discovered a dragon glove five hundred years ago. His Bond Kl’Ors became the first Bond of a round-ear, as dragons called us. And in the battles that followed, the festive of Kl’Ors was a token of their time and our peace of freedom, which was alway
s celebrated in summer: Kl’Ors Day. For a time, the elves worked with other round-ears and discovering many other Bonds and links before returning to the shadows they preferred. While man from the Land Of The Lost and sometimes referred to as The Land None Go-To, or the Land We Came From; were soon welcomed and ventured around the lands of Dangora.
The few decades that followed became a combination of battles, leadership struggles, and simple life issues. Four hundred years ago, was the time of Sy’Rah and his rule. For near on a hundred years he claimed the lands and controlled many until the herds fought back and won the lands. Three hundred years ago was the Great War. That was when Nicolas severed the arm of Sy’Rah’s Bond and thrust the diamond blade into his chest. Ending his life and the darkness at least. It was discovered soon after that the Dy’Monian herds were lost, the O’Pulsans and A’Mystians were a handful of survivors, and all the elder Ryders had been slain. Many turned delgori or suffered from their dragon’s mind that were poisoned from the vipers bite. The years that followed the Great War became a retreat to the herds. Another half century of leadership struggles took place, towns and the people were starting to grow in fast numbers, most had celebrated in the death of the maddest Ryder of all time, and a time of discovery was under way. Rich were rich, poor were poor. Two hundred years ago, there was the Chamber war, the Dark Wizard War, and the Last War, which was referred to as the Bronze Viper War, which was one hundred years ago. They say seventy five percent of Ryders and EzanGuard were killed in that battle, which took place in MaBela Falls. Most of the dead increased the delgori population. The vipers that had attacked at such a high rate, had dwindled off, and many believed that they were low on numbers too.
For the past eighty years, the people of Dangora became a federation and a constitution. We were to serve the Ryders, and the great Drae’Gon lore was passed, our crops were halved to feed and contribute to the lands. The people were given freedom of fear and safety no matter where they were, as long as they followed and obeyed the word of a Ryder. All Ryders were welcomed without question or unjust. I remember Walter complaining about the lack of rain in the summer months or the Ryder that insisted on a fancy room, a wench to bed, sometimes more than one. An odd look would sometimes pass across his gruff features. I remember he would say—“Rehema? When you get older, you make sure the man you choose, be a worthy one. Not a tool of some damn glove, or some damn sword.” It never made sense to me. Even now. Now I was a chosen, I was a Ryder. Would he think less of me, or worse of me? I was still a girl, a simple dangorian girl, wasn’t I?
I flipped through the volume on Dangora history; taking in words that needed my attention, and in the end, I was to make a list of Ryders and their Bonds. Since the book was small, limited as a simple reading for young children. It was annoying to keep up to all the wording of times before. I rubbed my yawning jaw at the sight of the book. Second grade students keep up to this? Ugh! It was all jumbled and around ways, I didn’t understand. Sure, reading was something I could do; I just didn’t understand all that I was reading.
By the end of the hour, I skimmed through the pages in haste, listing Ryders as I glanced at Karson constantly. Seemed I was doomed to fail, even if he looked relaxed, bored, and maybe a little too appealing in the chair, holding a book, I might have understood my task better.
Karson stood suddenly.
“Must be ready for me to assess you,” His tone was light. He slipped my notes from the table before I could utter a word of protest. His oh, so sea-green eyes, scanned my messy writing with a wide grin, which turned into a laugh, increasing in volume. Loud, and bluntly.
My cheeks flushed and I wanted to reach for my notes. Damn it. I did write things down about Ryders… and not him, oh, so good-looking-mentor, right? I reached for the parchment, and he pulled away to smile and tap them.
“You don’t like reading?” He tilted his head, making several strands of hair fall across his view to have him push it away and stare into my eyes.
“I read the book,” I pointed. What was so funny? He placed my parchments in my view, and I scanned them with as much haste as he had. I heaved a sigh of relief seeing the simple dot form I had made. No Karson quotes, no Karson words. Just my bad writings on what I had discovered.
“You wrote here that Isaac of Sapherian was a drunk lunatic. And here you said that Lorne of Roo’Bineyes was nothing but a rebel, ready to cause a fight rather than stopping them.” Karson pointed to my notes.
I shrugged, not seeing his point. “That’s what the book said. You said to find out where they went wrong as a Ryder, what their flaw was.”
“Did you discover how they died, lived, loved? How many vipers they slayed, delgori they beheaded and vragon or viper stones they collected?”
I huffed with a defeat. He had a point. I missed all that information. How bad did I suck? The weight of his words hung in my head. I did discover how one of the Ryders was killed going to a tavern. He didn’t bother taking his weapon, thinking it was a short walk. I already knew the answer to that Ryders mistake.
Attacks can come at any time.
“Hmmm.” Karson pressed his forefinger and thumb to his chin, cradling them together as he narrowed his eyes, assessing my notes. He stood swiftly and tilted his head. “There will be a way to make you learn about the past Ryders and let you understand them for what they were.”
I rolled my eyes. I had no idea or understanding of past Ryders, Royal Ryders, or simple Ryders let alone anything in-between. He definitely had his work cut out for him.
“I could ask you about them?”
He paused, mid reach to the book, I had been reading; and his eyes burned into me with a look I couldn’t place.
“That won’t work. Besides, I have a different understanding of the past to what you are meant to learn.” He held a half smile, making my mind drift for a fleeting second.
“And isn’t that what you’re supposed to do. Teach me. You’re old and all. You know things about the past that will be of more benefit to me.”
“Old and All …?” He quoted my words as a slither of a fox-look touched his features. His tone was playful. “Still won’t help you. See here—” He waved his hand at my parchment. “You wrote Isaac was a drunk, but that wasn’t the case. Yes, he had a taste for the wines and meads, but he suffered the death of his wife and three children for sixteen years before his end. Mind you, his wife had been in his life for seventy years prior to her death.”
“See. I didn’t know that. Now I do.”
Karson laughed. “Nice try. There will be a way to get you to focus.” He placed the book onto the shelf and folded my notes into his pocket.
Why? I shrugged. Most likely to keep evidence of my lack of understanding and make me study every single day.
“Time for Dragon Lore.”
I grumbled. Great, more reading. Mêlée would be better than this. This was my torture.
As the afternoon slowly melted away, Karson laughed several more times, much to my delight, and to my dismay. He wasn’t impressed with my potion making skills, considering it was a simple bruise rub lotion, which to him was child’s play. The potion I created was to see if I understood the elements of herbs, how to prepare, collect, and store potions. I failed in all areas. With the potion finished, according to my assessment, I frowned at the gooey liquid. I wasn’t going to put it anywhere near my skin.
“I stuffed it up.” I pressed my lips together in thought, and realisation as La’Kera pointed out another truth. I was the only one who managed to blow something up in class. I made a face as the wooden spoon melted and simmered with a slither of smoke.
Karson held a sour expression, grimacing mildly as he placed it at arm’s length. “Well, it’s a good thing we didn’t get you to mix up any love spells.” His smile was cheerful, and together we started to clean up the mess.
My heart skipped a beat at his words. Make a love spell. Was he implying something?
It was my crush throughout the day; small
thoughts that had me tickle inside with feelings and desire. And as La’Kera pointed out, a need for a mate that wasn’t Karson. Most times, La’Kera kept my unnatural thoughts at bay. But was he … was he suggesting a love spell?
He is nothing but a distraction … please, for me. Don’t think of him as anything but your mentor. He was pointing out the devastation of your potion … making a love spell would be disastrous.
I hastily redirected my thoughts. She was right. It was nothing but a crush and my awful clumsiness in potion making.
