She turned her gaze to Hunter, wondering if he would shed some light onto the matter, but he just shrugged. “Not my area of expertise.”
“Magic is an old thing,” Orm murmured. “It was around long before mankind existed, and it will be around long after it’s gone. Magic is old, and it is also wild and unpredictable. It has taken thousands of years for us to weave spells to harness it, to have some semblance of control over it. The spell used to bind dragons and their Riders was very raw and powerful magic, practically untamed. In order for there to be more than the stipulated number of Dragon Riders, the king must either be more powerful than those who created the spell in the first place or is using a very old form of magic to circumvent the spell.”
Having no prior knowledge of magical matters, Nessa could barely comprehend what Orm was saying. “I…uh…presume both of those scenarios are bad?”
“Oh yes,” Orm said brightly, as if delighted. “It’s very bad. But also very interesting.”
“What’s very interesting?” someone asked, their voice carrying an underlying hiss to the words, making the question seem almost sinister.
Nessa jumped, startled, and turned to see Chaos stepping out from behind a tree. For someone so large and who also had wings, he moved with an unnatural degree of stealth. His footsteps were silent on the rustling leaf litter and the whispering grass.
“Ah, there you are,” Hunter said blandly, pointedly ignoring the question. “I was wondering where you had wandered off to.”
Chaos scowled, the ghastly scars around his eyes crinkling and deepening. “No, you weren’t.”
“No,” Hunter agreed with a small smile, “I wasn’t. In fact, I was quite enjoying not having you around.”
Chaos simply grunted and moved to take the lead. Orm jogged up to his side, murmuring something that was too low for Nessa to hear. She and Hunter trailed behind them, keeping a comfortable distance away.
“You should be careful talking about magic and Dragon Riders when Chaos is around,” Hunter advised quietly. “It can send him into a rage.”
Nessa’s eyes ran over Chaos’ back, taking in the sight of his large, bat-like wings. They were folded in tight, the taloned tips rising over his shoulders and the lower points reaching down to the backs of his knees. Walking behind him, Nessa didn’t think that he was quite as intimidating, not when those pale, scarred eyes of his weren’t trained on her. They were unnerving, like they could look straight through flesh and bone and see the soul, laying it bare for the world to scrutinise. Without Chaos’ gaze on her, his attention focused elsewhere, Nessa could almost see past the sense of warning that came over her whenever he was near. She could appreciate the strange, unearthly beauty he had.
Although his wings were quite terrifying to behold, they were also fascinating, a clear reminder that, whilst he appeared mostly human, he was anything but. And his hair, Nessa eyed it with a touch of envy, wondering if she would ever get hers to be as smooth and as shiny. She toyed with a lock of her brown tresses, pulling at a curl gently so that it became straight as she held it taut. When she let it go, it sprang back, the bottom couple of inches winding back into a loose curl, the rest falling back into relaxed waves.
No, Nessa supposed it would never be as smooth and as straight as Chaos’, but that was alright. It was normal hair, mundane hair, nothing that would mark her out as anything other than human. It wasn’t something that would draw unwanted attention to her. Chaos’ hair was just another thing that revealed him as something other than human: too straight, too dark, such a deep black that it almost shimmered blue in the sunlight. The way he walked, that too wasn’t quite right: too quiet, too fluid, like that of a cat stalking its prey, or maybe, upon further reflection, a panther.
Nessa couldn’t help but wonder if all Old Bloods were like Chaos. Were they beautiful in a strange way too, inhuman in appearance and mannerisms? They said that she was one, and yet Nessa felt so very human, so very normal. She didn’t have wings or the ability to see into someone’s soul—not so far as she could tell—and she certainly didn’t move with the grace he did. Fallen leaves whispered with each of her steps, twigs snapped occasionally too. Maybe they had it wrong? Maybe Nessa wasn’t an Old Blood and was just a Dragon Rider?
Just a Dragon Rider. Nessa nearly snorted at such a notion. As if being a Dragon Rider wasn’t enough for her to deal with.
Nessa gazed down at the mark on her hand, suddenly feeling like she hadn’t even begun to fully comprehend what being a Dragon Rider really meant.
Chapter 11
Nessa tried to hold onto the memories of actually enjoying the walk, but despite them only being a few hours old, it was hard to keep a grip on them. They just kept slipping away. Gone was the enjoyment of being on the move, the exhilaration of heading somewhere new and exciting. Those feelings had been replaced by constant aches and pains.
Her feet hurt the worst, the soles tender and bruised. Hunter’s thick socks did little in the way of cushioning them anymore. Nessa was pretty sure they were just acting as makeshift bandages, soaking up the blood and whatever else oozed from the popped blisters. Her calves were faring only slightly better. The tops of the boots had rubbed a band of skin nearly raw. No matter how tightly or loosely she tied the laces, they still shifted with each step. Nessa accepted that there was little she could do other than to go barefoot, which wouldn’t be any good. So, persevering, Nessa trudged alongside the others, telling herself that a night or two at a nice inn with a soft bed and some decent food was well worth the pain.
She wasn’t having much luck convincing herself. Especially when the muscles in her lower back protested as she stepped around a chunk of broken wall.
Nessa slowed, emerging from her little world of misery, and looked around.
The forest still surrounded her, oaks and a handful of other hardwood species growing all around, but they were small and sparsely placed. This part of the forest was young, not yet fully established. Grass covered the ground, fresh and green, not yet hindered by the encroaching winter. The juvenile trees had already given up their lot for the year, their leaves littering the floor in a patchwork of browns and oranges, building up against the remains of a wall, blown against it by the autumn winds.
The others walked ahead, not noticing Nessa’s hesitation, not noticing her moving closer to the wall. It was the first thing she had seen all day that wasn’t something flora related.
The wall was old and broken, what remained of it only coming up to hip height. Nessa could tell that it had once stood taller, but time had worn it down, making the top half crumble and fall around the base. It was built from pale stone which caught the sunlight, twinkling gently when viewed from different angles.
Nessa placed a hand on it, leaning against it for a second, and wondered why there was an old wall running through a forest, neglected and forgotten. A peculiar sensation settled over her, resting upon her shoulders like a fine cape. Nessa grew cold and disconcerted, then lightheaded and dizzy.
The world twisted, spinning in a sickening way, a blur of sky and trees, ground and stone.
Abruptly as it started, the spinning stopped. Nessa stumbled a step or two, steadying herself against the wall before she fell. Her stomach churned and her legs felt weak. She doubled over, praying to gods unknown to not let her be sick or faint. The gods, whoever they might be, seemed merciful, for neither of those things happened.
With her hand still braced against the wall, Nessa pushed herself upright.
She blinked and stared.
“What the…”
The forest around her was gone, replaced by far-reaching gardens of manicured lawns and flowerbeds filled with blooming roses. Twin rows of oaks lined either side of a cobbled road, disappearing into the distance. The wall beside her was new again, unbroken and standing tall. Hunter and the others were nowhere to be found.
Uncertain as to what was happening, to what had happened, Nessa stumbled onto the road. On either side, the wall en
ded in decorative piers. Carved into them was an emblem. Nessa’s wide eyes were drawn to it, she was drawn to it, and in a blink, she was somehow standing before one of the piers without ever taking a step.
Swallowing nervously, Nessa gazed around for an explanation. She had just moved from one spot to another with the faintest of thoughts. Magic was clearly afoot. What kind, Nessa didn’t have the faintest idea. She wasn’t even sure if the magic was hers or someone else's, even though she couldn’t see anyone.
Her eyes went back to the carved emblem, the crest. It was of a bird, a raven or a crow perhaps, perched neatly on a branch with its head turned to the side, looking back over its shoulder. A blue gem was set into the stone, acting as the bird’s eye. Nessa raised a hand to caress it and reared back in shock.
She was a ghost.
There, but not entirely.
Nessa stared at her hand in horror. It was nothing more than a pale shape, all but invisible. With her heart hammering away like the hurried beats of a hummingbird’s wings, she looked down, discovering that the rest of her was similarly affected. She had lost all colour, all substance. She could see the ground beneath her too-large boots.
Keep calm… It’s alright… Keep calm… She started chanting those words like a mantra. Keep calm… It’s alright… Keep calm…
Nessa didn’t move for fear of the earth opening up and swallowing her whole, claiming her wandering soul, sending it to whatever hellish place that might hide in the earth’s belly.
A voice whispered.
Two names drifted through the air, uttered almost too softly for Nessa to hear.
She turned towards the source, but the world spun again, a sickening blur of colour and disorientation. Nessa swayed, dizzy and faint, and her knees buckled.
Hands gripped her shoulders, holding her steady. Nessa blinked wearily, unsettled and confused.
Gone was the sight of manicured gardens and bird crests, replaced by the worried eyes of Hunter staring down at her.
“Are you alright?” he asked, his hands slipping from her shoulders and coming to rest on her upper arms “You’re very pale.”
Nessa’s gaze darted all around. She felt rather lost. The forest surrounded her once more, an endless sea of trees and fallen leaves, and the wall had reverted back to its broken state, weathered and crumbling. There was no sight of the bird emblem or the cobbled road, no suggestion of grass lawns or flowerbeds filled with roses. Nessa couldn’t help but wonder if she had momentarily lost her mind, imagining it all.
“Nessa?” Hunter said, giving her a gentle shake. “Are you with me yet? You’ve been staring into the distance for a good minute or two now. It’s a little disconcerting.”
“Fine.” Nessa tried to clear away the fog that filled her head. She felt like she was in two different places at once, here and there. Nothing seemed quite real. “I’m fine.”
Hunter didn’t look convinced. “Are you sick? Faint?” His eyes ran over her, searching for any clues as to what ailed her. “I knew we should have taken things easier. You need more time to heal and rest, and to recover from your ordeal.”
My little Rider, Aoife called, her voice loud and urgent, drowning out whatever else Hunter had to say. What happened just then? You were there, and yet you weren’t. It’s hard to describe.
Aoife’s words, her alarm, pushed aside the fog in Nessa’s head. She frowned, more than a little bewildered.
“I’m fine,” she told both Hunter and Aoife, her words holding a measure of assurance, of truth. “I just kind of, I don’t know, slipped into this weird little daydream.”
“And got lost in your little daydream,” Hunter muttered. “If you ask me.”
Nessa chuckled. “I guess so.”
“And you’re sure that you’re alright?”
Nessa nodded.
“We can take a break if you’re tired?” Hunter insisted.
Nessa spied Orm and Chaos standing nearby. Orm, like Hunter, looked at her with a mixture of worry and concern. Chaos, though, had something else shining in his glacial eyes, a strange kind of consideration. A shiver of warning ran up Nessa’s spine. She forced herself to smile.
“A break isn’t necessary,” she told him, the desire to leave being stronger than her aches and pains. “And anyway, I’m eager to get my new shoes.”
Hunter nodded to himself and took a step back, his hands slipping from her arms. “Your feet hurt, don’t they?”
“Nope,” Nessa said, trying to be believable, worried that he would keep pressing the issue. Even though she wasn’t sure what had happened to her, she didn’t want to linger, fearing that it would happen again. “My feet are perfectly fine.”
Hunter, although looking unconvinced, thankfully didn’t seem inclined to argue. Without saying a word, he turned and moved to join the others. Nessa hurried after him, her feet protesting with each step.
As soon as Orm saw that they were continuing with their journey, he started off, leading the way through the trees. Chaos hesitated for a second, and Nessa could feel his stare focused on her. She was unable to meet his gaze, knowing that he would be able to see her lies and doubts.
I’ll trust that you are okay to continue on your way, Aoife said quietly. However, I can tell that something has unsettled you.
Nessa was reluctant to divulge what had happened. The whispered names she heard in the daydream echoed softly in her ears, resonating and haunting. But Aoife was her bonded partner, though, and if a girl couldn’t confide in her dragon, then who could she confide in?
I’m not sure that the daydream was entirely a daydream. It felt as if a spell had been cast over me. It felt more like a waking dream, one that held a great and terrible secret, and quite possibly a warning too.
Aoife was quiet. If not for the tie of their bond, Nessa would have thought that she hadn’t been heard. As it was, she could faintly sense Aoife’s deep contemplation, her mind a churning mass of emotions and sensations.
How very peculiar, Aoife eventually said.
Do you know what it was?
I do not.
Oh… Nessa tried to hide her disappointment, but some of it managed to leach through the bond.
You are a creature born of magic, Aoife said placatingly, and magic is a strange and sometimes unpredictable thing. Do not worry or dwell on what happened for long. You’ll just give yourself a headache.
Nessa took Aoife’s advice under consideration. Please don’t tell the others.
Why not? They’re concerned about you.
It’s just something I want to be kept between us. At least for the time being.
If that’s what you really want, then I shall keep my silence.
Thank you.
Although I do suggest sharing your experience with the others, Aoife murmured gently. They may be able to help.
Nessa had her doubts. Those names…the undercurrents of warnings and secrets…they felt as if they were for her ears only.
You fear that they will see you as weak, don’t you, if you ask for their help, Aoife mused, thoughtful. That’s why you won’t tell them your feet hurt, and why you’re reluctant to tell them about what happened back by that wall.
They worry enough about me as it is. I can feel it coming off them in waves. They already think that I’m helpless and weak.
No, they don’t.
They do, Nessa argued. But I’m not. I’m not weak and helpless. I won’t be a burden, slowing them down and causing a fuss over a few blisters.
Judging by your discomfort, I think it’s safe to say that you have more than just a few blisters.
Maybe.
Just take a break from walking and let Orm give you a piggyback. It will be fun. You’ll enjoy it.
I’m perfectly capable of walking, thank you very much.
That’s just your pride talking.
Nessa huffed. My pride?
Anyway, you’re not weak if you admit that you’re hurt or scared. You can’t be strong every moment of every day
.
Aoife withdrew from Nessa’s mind, leaving her with a lot of things to mull over.
Chapter 12
The town of Arncraft was bigger than Nessa expected. Quite a lot bigger, in fact. She had anticipated a small farming town consisting of a number of dwellings and a little marketplace. Instead, Nessa found that Arncraft had a vast selection of inns to choose from, a wide array of shops and a rather sizable market.
Arncraft was a town large enough for weary travellers to get lost in if they weren’t careful.
The market occupied most of the main road that wove through the town like a snake, long and narrow, with tall buildings rising up on either side, a mixture of houses, shops, bakeries and everything in between. Most were timber framed with small mullion windows and pitched roofs, their wattle and daub panels painted a pleasant cream or yellow. The streets were crowded with people, and the air was filled with joyous noise. Arncraft was bustling and alive.
With no recollection of ever visiting a village, a town or—to be honest—anything, everything Nessa saw was a first. She found it to be awe-inspiring and a smidgen overwhelming.
Nessa trailed behind Orm and Hunter as they made their way down the market street, searching for an inn they liked the look of. Those two were picky when it came to a place to stay. They both carried a couple of bags each containing their clothing and a few extra things. The tents and other supplies were with Aoife, who was tucked a few miles away in the foothills of the Clēa Mountains. Through their bond, Nessa knew that Aoife was curled up comfortably on a rocky embankment, soaking up the late afternoon sun, hidden far away from prying human eyes.
They had met up with Aoife shortly before Arncraft had come into sight, relieving her of her load and taking what they needed for their short stay in the town. While Hunter and Orm were sorting through the bags that would be left behind, Nessa had sat beside Aoife, resting her hurting feet, savouring their time together. Chaos had wandered off, claiming he was going to get changed. Nessa briefly wondered why, given that no one would be looking at his clothing once they caught sight of his monstrous wings and eerie eyes.
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