Dragon School_First Flight

by Sarah K. L. Wilson

  As we followed the line of dragons, the trainees peeled off to where their dragon stood. Savette seemed almost to skip towards her red dragon and off toward the end I saw someone leading a green dragon away – Tamas’ dragon. I felt a pang at the thought of him kneeling in the dust, giving up his whole future. He didn’t need to do that. He shouldn’t have done it just because the other students doubted us. I wished I had the chance to tell him that. Maybe I should have been out there helping people be brave this afternoon instead of sleeping in Raolcan’s stable and then watching Leng ride off to the horizon. I swallowed back worry and tried to focus on what was ahead. Raolcan? Where are you?

  Wait, was that him? Why was he so silent? I didn’t hear him in my mind at all. Something wasn’t right. It made me feel strange and lonely – like a butterfly on a snowy field. Was he angry? Was he silent in his anger? His golden gaze fixed on mine as if he was trying to communicate silently, but that was just silly. After all, if he wanted to speak to me mind to mind he easily could. I cleared my throat, suddenly uncertain.

  I waited as Grandis Echomeyer and Grandis Dantriet worked their way slowly back down the line in the gathering dark. We were stretched too far apart to see what they were doing with each trainee before us. I was almost startled when they finally found me in the dark. Two servants held torches beside the Grandis, outlining everything in dancing orange hues.

  “Amel Leafbrought?” Grandis Dantriet said as if he didn’t already know it was me.

  “Yes.” My voice shook a little.

  “This is the dragon you chose, Raolcan the Purple?”

  “Yes.” My voice was clearer now.

  “Do you choose to bind with this dragon and be his rider?” Grandis Echomeyer asked. He was slender like all Dragon Riders but stooped with age and his skin was yellowed and sagging.

  “Yes.”

  “Hold out your hand.” His eyes went still, like he’d retreated to another world and then heat flared in my wrist.

  I yelped and drew it back at the same moment that Raolcan snorted, flames gouting out of his nostrils. He missed us, but his continued silence cut deep. Was he angry at me? Was I making the right choice?

  A bright white stylized feather appeared on my wrist, and I saw the same feather burning brightly in the twilight against Raolcan’s wing. We were marked with an identical sign. I stared at mine in wonder as it faded into a dull glow.

  “Different every time.” Grandis Echomeyer seemed to beam with pride.

  “We’re the only ones with this sign?” I liked that, though I still feared Raolcan’s silence.

  “Yes. Each pair has its own. The magic determines it. You’re bound now, and he’s gentled to you. Treat him well.”

  It seemed so informal – so basic – for such an important moment. My eyes went wide with surprise and I would have remained stunned if Grandis Dantriet’s voice hadn’t broken into my wonder.

  “You may write your vote for First Rider now and place it in the jar.”

  “I don’t choose to vote.” I was proud of how clear my voice was.

  His eyebrows rose. “You realize that it could be you.”

  I barked a laugh so suddenly that I surprised myself. “Of course, it will be me. That’s who everyone else is voting for. I’ve decided not to make anyone else feel the way I do, with my name on the paper.”

  “The duty of First Rider is a great honor.” His expression was unreadable. “So let it be.”

  I wasn’t surprised when all the rituals were complete and Grandis announced firmly that the vote was unanimous - I would be First Rider the next day. I wasn’t surprised when they all trooped away, leaving me to hobble back in their wake. What surprised me – worried me – was the silence from Raolcan. It was like a wind had been blowing for days and was still now. I felt completely abandoned, alone and bereft at his missing voice, and worst of all I feared what it meant for that first flight.

  Chapter Fourteen

  I woke to the sound of thunder. Rain beat down on the ledge outside the wide window filling the room with the sound. I sat up in the soft bed, trying to shake off sleep. The darkness around me was cloying, trying to pull me back into sweet unconsciousness but the wind thrashed against our dorm and in a flash of lightning I saw a half-dozen girls silhouetted against the light, trying to force the shutters closed.

  A bobbing lantern came through the door with a whoosh of wind behind it just as they were finished. Soaked to the skin and irritated looking, Grandis Elfar lit our dorm chandelier with her lantern. Moans and complaints filled the room but she hushed them curtly.

  “Enough complaining. Most of you will get to return to your warm beds in a minute, so hush.” She waited for quiet before she continued, peering into every cranny of the room to stare down whisperers. “I know that was you, Arielle. Watch it or it’s double stable cleaning tomorrow for you. You know that’s no idle threat. Now, I’m here for the newest wave of trainees. Front and center.”

  I climbed awkwardly from my bunk and joined the handful of recruits from my wave. Grandis Elfar grimaced at me, or maybe it was at all of us.

  “We’ve received an urgent message from the Dominion Capitol. The part pertaining to you reads as follows.” She pulled out a thick sheaf of paper and began to read. “To that end, all training shall now be expedited. Upon the receiving of this message any trainees who have not completed First Flight by morning shall be removed from Dragon School. Inducted and above shall be trained at the most demanding pace possible for the fulfillment of obligations...”

  We gasped.

  “Does that mean we’re being reduced to servants without even a chance?” Starie protested. “I’m a High Castelan. You can’t do this to me!”

  “Hush, child,” Grandis Elfar looked tired and frustrated rolled into one. “No one is against you in this. It is our hope that we can fulfill the Dominar’s decree while retaining all of you, but time is urgent.” She ran a hand over her face, as if wiping away the exhaustion. “Usually you have a solid week to prepare for your First Flight. We act as though your First Flight will come before you are ready but honestly, we make sure each of you has what they need to make success probable if you set your mind to the work and really want to do it.”

  “You do?” Savette gasped.

  One of the Initiates behind her snickered, but Grandis Elfar waved a hand in irritation. “Of course, we do. This is a school, not an abattoir. Do you really think we take the maiming and death of students lightly? Of course not. But we must test, test, test or you will never be ready to be real Dragon Riders. Only those of tough spirit and iron spine are ready for the rigors of this life. It is our job to ready you and that can’t be achieved gently. But tonight, we must force your First Flight before you are ready, and if all of you make an attempt, we will lose some.” Her jaw line stood out as she clenched her teeth, her mouth drawing a grim line before she spoke again. “We do not wish to throw you all in the servant ranks. Many of you are of noble blood. You have the potential to be more than dishwashers and launderers. Make no mistake, we do not push you into this trial. Better to be a boot polisher than a smear on the rocks below.” She moved her penetrating gaze from one person to the next, as if to impress on us the image of spattered rocks. “But the choice is yours. The First Flight must be completed before dawn or none of you will be allowed to stay on as recruits. You will all pack your things and move five levels below to the servants’ halls. Those who complete First Flight will be initiates. Just like that. No other tests.”

  “It’s storming out there,” one of the girls from our wave said in a small voice. I couldn’t help but agree, fear welling up in my own heart at the thought of slippery saddles and driving rains to contend with on top of everything else.

  Grandios Elfar sighed. “And it’s dark. Tonight is a grim night but it is your only chance. If you wish to take that chance, dress. We leave together in five minutes. If you choose to stay as servants, begin packing. Dame Adelle will arrive in ten minutes to sheph
erd you to the servants’ quarters.”

  I swallowed hard. I could just go now and sleep with the servants, awaking to a good life of being warm and fed and safe here. And if I did that I’d never see Raolcan again. Or Leng. I’d never deliver messages on the back of a Purple dragon. Was this message delivered by a Purple? Only a fool would take their First Flight – as First Rider no less – in the dark, during a storm with death waiting for them.

  I turned to my bunk and started to pull my clothing on. I was a fool. I couldn’t just walk away. My belly swam with nerves, a sour taste flooding my mouth and my head feeling hot and light. I was going to hurl. I fought down the impulse. I should just pack my things. It would be so easy. I saw one girl already beginning that. She was cautious and wise. She’d probably live to old age with a parcel of grandchildren and worn happy hands. I would probably be a broken hulk on the rocks below by morning. Did birds fly down and tear the flesh from those who fell, or did they let the dragons swoop down and burn them up?

  I clenched my jaw hard and fell in line.

  “Amel Leafbrought?” Grandis Elfar said.

  “Yes?” My hands were shaking so hard that I hid one in the folds of my clothing.

  “You understand that time is precious tonight.”

  I nodded.

  “In light of that, you may try a First Flight but we can’t wait for you to ascend the ladder. The honor of First Flight will go to another. You will fly your dragon when you arrive topside. Catch up when you can. If you do not ride by dawn your chance is gone.”

  Honor? I thought it was a punishment. After all, everyone voted for me because they didn’t want to be the one to go first. It was horribly humiliating to be singled out a second time over my slow ascent. As if I was somehow a drain on the energy of those around me. Bitterness intermingled with my fear.

  “How long until dawn?” I asked.

  “Next bell,” she said and turned to face the doorway, lantern held high. “Follow me, trainees. Don’t fall out of line. If you lose this chance, it’s gone forever.”

  I was already three steps behind when the trainee in front of me was through the door.

  Chapter Fifteen

  It was slick outside and my crutch lost purchase and slipped along the rock more times than I could count as I hobbled to the first set of ladders. The bench and pulleys from earlier were gone, not that I thought swaying up on a bench in the middle of a storm was a good idea. Ladders were slippery enough. I gripped the ladder as hard as I could in cold, shaking hands. I was wet to the bone already and starting to feel chilled. Water poured over my face, blurring my vision and the endless drumming of rain against the cliff face and on the ledges blocked my ears from navigating by sound. It had been hard to maneuver up the ladders dragging one leg when it was dry. Doing it now in the pouring rain was even worse. The minutes dragged long and twice I slipped, barely catching myself, my breath ragged and laced with fear when I’d caught hold more tightly.

  At the top of the first ladder, I collapsed in a heap before craning my neck to look upward. Lightning lanced through the sky, lighting the edge of topside. Along the edge, silhouettes stood inky black. My wave was already at the top and I had three more ladders to go. My hands wouldn’t stop shaking with fatigue and my good leg ached from doing twice the work. If I slipped on a ladder it would be no different than falling off the dragon. I would fall to my death.

  I scanned the cliffside for the bench and pulleys. If I kept relying on the ladder I would be too late. There. It was down along the ledge. I fought my way up to my feet, pushing back exhaustion and fear and scrambled towards the ladder, my crutch slipping and twisting over the wet ground. I stumbled, falling hard onto the ledge, my crutch sailing away.

  I lay on the ground for a moment, grateful to have stayed on the ledge and not careened over the side. My cheek was burning with pain and when I felt it with my hand it was tender to the touch. It felt wet, but everything did. I could taste blood in my mouth and my good knee and palms were throbbing. I couldn’t let injury stop me. There would be time to tend my wounds after.

  I scrambled to my hands and knee and scanned the ledge for my crutch. It was gone. The bottom fell out of my stomach and everything inside me wanted to let loose at once. I turned to the side and heaved, bringing up everything I had, and then wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. I shook my head, gasping in the pouring rain, my body shaking and spasming almost uncontrollably as I drew in the scraps of determination I still had. I needed to be courageous. Yes, this was bad. It could be worse. It could be me who fell over that cliff edge.

  The bench wasn’t far, so I crawled to it. Slick as it was, venturing onto it felt foolhardy at best, but I swung my good leg over, wrapping that leg around the underside of the board to grip it. I grabbed the rope with both hands, hauling on it like I had before. Wet and heavy, it responded sluggishly, barely moving a few inches instead of the meters it had soared upwards at a single pull before. Despair washed over me. With my crutch gone, this was my last hope. I had to get there with the bench or lose any hope of becoming a Dragon Rider. Tears flowed from my eyes that I didn’t bother to hold back, but I heaved on the rope, again, and again, and again until I was sobbing and panting all at once, my palms raw and sore from the wet rope and my arms shaking and wobbly.

  There was no way I could make it.

  There was no way I could let myself give up.

  All this time, in all of my life, I had never given up. If I started now, then I might as well give up on everything, and then what? Should I just die while I was at it? No. I gritted my teeth, closed my eyes and pulled. I was halfway up when I felt a whoosh of wind that was unfamiliar and I looked up. Our dragons were circling in the sky above, Dragon Riders positioned on either end of the train of dragons. Everyone else was about to take their First Flight. If I didn’t get up there and take mine, then what would happen to Raolcan?

  I pulled, fear and desperation coursing through me, my nose and eyes running freely with a combination of frustration, anger, and despair. Why. Did. It. Always. Seem. To. Happen. To. Me? Why?

  Where are you?

  I gasped, almost dropping the rope and then clutching it tighter when I realized what I’d almost done. Raolcan! I could hear him again!

  The magic of the bonding mutes our voices. We come to you completely vulnerable in that ceremony, without even a voice to speak.

  That was horrible! Why would they do that to a sentient creature like Raolcan?

  They fear our thoughts. We think differently than they do.

  I’m so sorry, Raolcan. I didn’t know what to do but I just couldn’t walk away from you. I chose to bond with you but it’s not my intention to make you a slave.

  It’s okay, spider. Remember, I chose you.

  He did, didn’t he? And why did he call me spider?

  A private joke. Don’t ask.

  I didn’t have time to ask, anyway. I needed to pull harder. It wasn’t just me relying on this, it was Raolcan, too.

  What do you need to pull on? Why can’t I see you with the others? They’re lined up for us.

  I’m on the bench trying to get up the side of the cliff. I lost my crutch. If I don’t get there in time to ride you then I miss my shot. I won’t be your Dragon Rider.

  Something lashed out, rocking me mentally, so that I had to grip the rope tight and rest my forehead against it, flinching from the agony. Was that a dragon’s mental curse?

  Hold tight. I’ll find a way to get to you.

  A nice thought but he was a slave and if I didn’t hurry we’d never see each other again. I set back to work, but a scream pierced the sky and I stopped again, gripping the rope, my gaze darting around looking for the screamer.

  I caught sight of him for only a moment as he fell past me, arms and legs pinwheeling through the air. His mouth and eyes wide in terror. Good-looking Jael would never flirt with Starie or Savette again. If I hadn’t already lost my dinner, I would now. I bit my lip as my whole body shook, fi
ghting down fear through clenched fists and teeth. The only thing that wouldn’t clench tightly was my eyes. Every time I closed them the image of Jael falling past resurfaced.

  I didn’t look up for the second scream. I didn’t want to know who it was. I didn’t want to have to remember their face forever.

  Chapter Sixteen

  My teeth chattered and my limbs shook. My muscles were past burning with pain and into a dead zone beyond that. Would they give me any warning before they let go altogether? I didn’t dare think about that. I needed to draw on any strength I could find. I took a deep breath, determining to be strong, insisting within myself that I push past my fear and refuse to quit. I must not give in. I would be strong. Above me, thunder crashed so loudly that it left my ears ringing. I risked a glance as lightning pierced the clouds.

  White light flooded the sky and I could finally see a string of dragons soaring through the sky. Starie was on hers, hair wild and posture stiff. As I watched, Daedru leapt through the air, landing squarely on the back of his Golden dragon and deftly strapping in. I drew in a deep breath. Despite the storm, not all of my wave were perishing. There were other silhouettes on dragons, but I didn’t have time to identify any of them before the thunder boomed again and the light faded away.

  A second spear of lightning appeared and in the glow, I saw Savette swinging, half-on and half-off her Red dragon. The dragon was tumbling slowly, like he was trying to keep her on with his movement, but her flailing legs found no purchase and her arms gripped the saddle awkwardly. Had she missed the mount? Had she caught the saddle on the way past?