33. Thirty-Three
As promised, the next morning when I wake up, a box is delivered with a handwritten note attached.
Put these on and meet me at Fendruil after breakfast for your first lesson. You may bring your bodyguard. Sylvane.
There is no room for argument and oddly enough, I”m not interested in combating her orders. Sure, riding a dragon scares the hell out of me, but it also sets my soul ablaze, as if I was always meant for this life.
The rest of the morning is a blur. Once I”ve put the white riding leathers on, I meet my friends for breakfast and tell them where I”ll be. Nyx is more than happy to accompany me for guard duty, and it nearly cleaves my heart in two when I tell him Atlas will be joining me instead, since he is who my mother believes is my bodyguard.
Atlas doesn”t say much during our morning meal, but when I stand to leave, he quickly hops to his feet and smiles down at me as we make our way to the castle rooftop where the birds are waiting. ”Don”t fall off.”
I can hear the concern in his voice despite the teasing delivery and I bob my head. ”I will do my best to keep my seat.”
When we finally make it to Fendruil, Sylvane catches sight of us as we make our way down toward the dragon pens. ”You made it.”
”We made it.”
”First thing”s first. Let me get a good look at you.” She motions for me to spin, and I oblige, turning in a circle. She smiles with an approving nod. ”You look like a Basilius.”
”I might look the part, but I feel like an imposter,” I admit, my eyes darting behind my mother at the other Basilius riders gathered to practice – or watch me fail – I”m not entirely sure yet.
”It will take some getting used to.” She steps in my direct line of sight of the others, drawing my gaze. ”Basilius blood runs through your veins, so I have no doubt that you will catch on quickly.”
”And if I don”t?” I ask, but don”t get an answer, because a roar from the dragon stable rips through the mountain.
”What was that?” Atlas steps closer to me.
”That would be Seraxes,” Sylvane sighs wearily. ”She is reluctant to don her saddle, granted she”s not used to wearing one the way her fellow dragons are.”
I shake my head, rethinking my decision with each murderous screech. ”Maybe this isn”t a good – ”
A very pissed off Seraxes slams through the doors, stomping beside the two trainers who have somehow managed to strap a white saddle around her torso. The chilly stare in her blue eyes intensifies the moment her gaze meets mine. For a split second, I believe she is going to freeze me, but instead, she roars at me, her high-pitched shriek telling me everything I need to know. I won”t be riding her today or any other day.
”Go to her,” Sylvane gently shoves me forward.
”Are you insane?” I hiss, shaking her hand from my person. ”If I go to her – ”
”You must show her you do not fear her.”
”But I do fear her,” I snip.
”A Basilius does not show fear,” she quips, non-relenting, and I realize immediately where my stubborn nature stems from. ”Approach her slowly, with your hands visible. Show her you mean her no harm, that you do not fear her, and that you will take your rightful seat.”
I dare a quick glance at Atlas. I fully expect him to voice his concerns and give me a reason to disregard my mother”s instructions, but instead, he nods his head in agreement.
”She”s right,” he says. ”A dragon will never respect you as its rider if you cower.”
”That”s your advice?” I huff, irritated for once he”s not trying to keep me from doing something reckless.
Atlas eats what little distance remains between us and slides his hands on either side of my face. I can feel Sylvane”s curious gaze pinned on us, but I don”t dare tears my eyes from his. ”Strenlys, you can do this.”
”I”m scared,” I whisper.
”I know.” He nods, swiping strands of hair from my face. ”Do it anyway.”
Sylvane clears her throat, finally drawing my gaze, and provoking Atlas to release me. ”Your bodyguard is right,” she says with a teasing tone, making it clear to me she knows for certain Atlas isn”t who I claim him to be. ”Seraxes will never let you ride her if you stand down now.”
I suck in a deep breath and roll my shoulders back. If I am going to approach the beast, I will do it with my head held high. I might have trepidation stewing in my belly, but I will do as I have always done in the past when I felt uneasy – pretended to be who everyone believed I was.
The first step is the hardest, but once I force myself forward, I take another step and then another, until I find myself within a few feet of the majestic, white-scaled dragon. Her nostrils flare as she snorts a chilly blast of air at me, whipping my hair over my shoulders. I narrow my gaze and stare up at her.
I”m not sure if I”m supposed to speak to Seraxes or just maintain unwavering eye contact until one of us backs down, but I”m determined to show her that I am not afraid of her, nor am I her enemy. For a split second, the harshness in her face irons out, and I see the pain in her eyes. Abandonment, loneliness, and the feeling of being unwanted – everything I feel is staring back at me and it hurts. Slowly, gently, I reach my hand up, but that was the wrong thing to do. Seraxes takes a step away from me, her vengeful mask firmly rooted back into place.
I raise my hands above my shoulders to show Seraxes I am unarmed and mean her no harm. She backs away, narrowing her eyes and showing me her rows of sharp, dagger-length teeth. To my credit, I don”t retreat, but take a sure-footed step forward.
”Seraxes,” I say calmly. ”I am not going to hurt you and you are not going to hurt me. I am your rider and today, I will take my place.”
Seraxes lowers her head and growls, showing me each glistening tooth she has.
This is not going well.
Suddenly, Drexel, the Frost King”s dragon, bellows in the sky and spears toward us. He lands with a great thud, shaking the foundation and I barely manage to keep my footing. He lurches toward my dragon and lets loose a thunderous roar. Seraxes screeches in return but takes a defensive stance against the much larger dragon.
My heart drops the moment I see Drexel open his enormous mouth and my first thought is he”s going to harm my dragon.
”No!” I scream and without thinking, I cast a golden shield in front of Seraxes to protect her.
The wall between the dragons doesn”t just draw their attention, but every Basilius rider in the vicinity.
Drexel slowly turns his head toward me, eyeing me with great curiosity, and its then I realize what he was doing. His intent was never to harm Seraxes; he was putting her in her place, like an alpha would chastise a pup in his pack. He”s keeping order and I inserted myself where I shouldn”t have.
Seraxes, on the other hand, doesn”t flash her typical angry eyes my way, but a momentary look of wonder and confusion flashes across her face.
Sheepishly, I lower the shield and nonverbally offer my apologies to Drexel. I am in no way trying to get on that dragon”s bad side.
”What an excellent start to your first day.”
I glare in the direction of the one-man applause and catch sight of Thrane Basilius leaning against Artax”s scaled leg as if it were a wall. He claps twice more before lowering his hands slowly. He”s definitely one for theatrics.
”Are you mocking me?” I snort.
”On the contrary, Aurelia – ”
”My name is Shaye.”
”Most Basiliuses mount their dragons their first day,” he continues, ignoring my protests. ”But you chose to show off your magic instead. Fascinating.”
It takes all manner of restraint not to hurl insults at him, unsure of where that would lead me, but then I remember the Basilius motto – We do not beg, we never surrender. We die as we live, free and feared. – and change my mind. If I back down to Thrane now, I”ll prove to him I think I”m beneath him and that certainly will not do.
”Jealous of my affinity, Cousin?”
His left eyebrow ticks up ever so slightly. ”Me, jealous?” He chuckles darkly. ”How positively laughable.”
”Are you two finished?” Sylvane approaches, her furrowed brows being the only clue to her annoyance. ”I will show you how to mount your dragon,” she turns her attention to me.
I nod, not interested in irritating her further when she”s already stuck her neck out for me. Sylvane”s dragon, Corvex, is ushered out of the dragon pen and once he presents his side to her, she sprints up his leg, bounces a boot off his side, and mounts him like a horse. ”Your turn!” She calls to me with a smile, before sliding down Corvex”s scales, motioning for him to take flight and make space for Seraxes.
As if it”ll be that easy for me to mount Seraxes. Hell, I wouldn”t be able to mount an average horse with that kind of speed and accuracy, but I”m not here to make excuses and I certainly won”t be backing down from any challenge with Atlas here watching me. So, I take a deep breath and run toward Seraxes, but as soon as my boot touches her scaled leg, she brushes me off and I go flying. I smack the ground with a painful thud and a grunt escapes my lips when my breath is stolen from my lungs. I glare up at the dragon who side-eyes me with a twinkle of mischief in her face.
”So,” I hiss, ”is this how it”s going to be?”
If dragons could roll their eyes, Seraxes would.
”Fine,” I brush myself off and stand to my feet. ”Have it your way, Seraxes.”
I turn on my heel and walk back toward Atlas. ”We”re done here,” I huff, passing him on the way up the incline. He grabs ahold of my arm and spins me to face him.
”Where are you going?”
”Back to the castle,” I say through gritted teeth.
”You haven”t flown yet,” he replies, eyebrows furrowed.
”She won”t let me mount her, Atlas, and I refuse to sit here and spend the rest of the afternoon being tossed aside like a leaf in the breeze.”
”You”re angry.” He squares his shoulders to mine. ”You”re probably hurt that she is putting up a fight, but you need to understand you”re a stranger. It will take time for her to warm up to you, Shaye.”
”It”s not my fault I”m a stranger!” My voice cracks and tears well in my eyes.
”I know,” he says softly. ”Take things slow. You both will get there in time.”
”You”re not going to let me leave, are you?”
”I would never keep you here against your will.” He leans closer, so his mouth brushes my ear. ”But I think you should stay and try again.”
Even if I wanted to argue with him, I can”t. He”s right. I may be a lot of things, but a quitter isn”t one. So, I bob my head and say, ”Fine.”
”That”s my girl,” he smiles, sending my heart soaring.
Kissing him in the open would probably be frowned upon, so I clear my throat, and walk back toward Seraxes. My sights are homed in on my dragon, but my focus is suddenly thwarted when Thrane strides up beside me and whispers, ”Perhaps she will be more agreeable, if you give her a snack.”
”Excuse me?”
He snatches my hand and plops a piece of dried meat in my palm. ”Lamb jerky. The dragons go wild for it.”
”This?” I hold it up, disbelief clear in my tone. ”You”re telling me these mighty beasts go feral for this small morsel?”
”By all means, disregard what a trained dragon rider is advising you to do to mount your beast.” He flicks invisible lint from the lapel of his pristine leather uniform. ”I”m not the one who will bear the title of the first Basilius to be denied by their dragon.”
I huff, my gaze darting between him and the jerky. ”Why are you helping me?”
”I”m not doing it for you, Aurelia,” he quips, and I don”t even attempt to correct him. ”I”m doing it for Seraxes. She is Artax”s mate and when she is in a bad mood, we”re all in a bad mood.”
My nostrils flare. ”You”re telling me that our dragons are bonded for life?”
He smiles but it”s anything but friendly. ”Did Sylvane not tell you that?” He chuckles darkly, clearly amused by the surprise on my face. ”Seeing as she is Commander of the Orhelles, I thought she would have explained that to you. Yes, our dragons are mates. Looks like we will be spending plenty of time together, Cousin, so do us all a favor and give Seraxes the jerky and mount her.”
I inhale a steadying breath to keep from cursing and march away from Thrane, fists clenched at my sides, and beeline for my dragon. The moment she sees me headed her way, she dons her cranky mask, but that look of disdain quickly disappears when I flash the jerky for her to see.
”Ah,” I coo when she follows the motion of my hand. ”Do you want this? You can have it, but it will be in exchange for a ride.”
For a split second, I think she is going to forgo the treat and double-down on her stubborn ways, but then she surprises me by taking a step forward. She lowers her head, so our eyes are on the same level, and slowly reaches for the jerky.
I hide it behind my back and reiterate, ”A treat for a ride, yes?”
She puffs a cold breath but bobs her head once in response. I extend the jerky and when she opens her sharp-toothed mouth, I toss the dried meat inside. Frost Dragons might have the traits of dogs, but I won”t be taking any chances of losing an arm while giving Seraxes a treat.
Once she has swallowed the morsel, she honors our pact by turning, giving me clear access to her side. I exhale a sigh of relief that she is adhering to our deal. With gentle steps, I try for a second time to run up her side to reach my saddle, but fall, this time without Seraxes” assistance. It takes me several attempts, but on the ninth try, I make it. I wipe the beading sweat from my brow and settle in the saddle, dragging the pads of my fingers along Seraxes” scales. Hard, yet smooth, her white scales glisten like armor in the sunlight and I adore the purple and blue tints that shimmer.
I suddenly realize I”m sitting on a dragon, and I”m completely lost for words. Beasts I thought were completely made up are not only real, but I was blessed with one of my own. Tears prick at my eyes and the feeling of being watched magnifies. I glance around and my gaze immediately finds Atlas. Pride. There”s nothing but pride and admiration beaming in his eyes which causes my heart to thunder in my chest. How I wish he could be saddled up next to me on a dragon of his own.
The ground tremors as Artax stomps in my direct line of sight, blocking Atlas from view. I narrow my gaze at my haughty cousin and growl, ”What?”
”How does it feel?”
”How does what feel?”
”Taking your place as a Basilius.” Before I can respond, Thrane motions for me to follow. ”Launching and landing are the hardest to adjust to when first learning, so tighten your legs and keep as close to the saddle as possible to avoid falling off.”
”And if I do fall?” I suddenly panic thinking of all the ways I could die up there.
”I”ll catch you,” is all he says in response before Artax launches.
Without warning, Seraxes follows her mate, spearing into the sky. I barely manage to tighten my thighs and crouch low in the saddle before she”s completely vertical.
Stars above and seas below. Father of Light, don”t let me fall.
Seraxes zips and zags through the open sky and chases after Artax as if it”s some sort of game of tag. Thrane”s hair whips behind him as Artax dashes through hoops of varying sizes and cuts through the obstacle course like he could do it blindfolded.
My dragon is fast. So fast, I can barely keep my eyes open because the wind is blasting past me, blowing my long locks behind me, threatening to pull me down. I make the mistake of looking below and all I see are the sharp rocks at the bottom. My stomach flips and I close my eyes, but that just makes me nauseas. I”m forced to keep alert during the entire flight, but my heart drops when I see Artax cut upward and circle above me. If I stretched out my hand, I might be able to touch Thrane who dangles upside-down above me. It”s then I realize, Seraxes is about to hit the same maneuver to follow Artax and before I can beg her not to, she flips, and I lose my grip.
I”m falling.
I”m falling fast.
I”m falling and there”s not a thing I can do to stop it.
I could scream or flail, but I know neither will save me, so I quietly fall, watching my dragon soar above me. Refusing to look behind me at the rocks that will be my doom, I keep focused on the clear sky and the beating dragon wings I never dreamed I”d hear. Though it”s muffled, I hear someone scream my name, and when I turn, I see fear in Atlas” eyes. My mother is standing beside him, but she doesn”t share the same terror. Perhaps, she doesn”t care if I live or die. Perhaps a Basilius falling from their dragon is worthy of death to avoid the disgrace of being unseated.
But a shriek from above nabs my attention and in the blink of an eye, Artax is upon me, clutching me in his front claw. Once he has me, he jerks upward to avoid the rocks and flies me to the landing Atlas and my mother are standing. Unceremoniously, he drops me on the ground and keeps flying, as if he didn”t just spare me from a gruesome death.
Just as I catch my breath, I feel Atlas scoop me in his arms and hold me close. I can feel his heart thundering in his chest and that”s when tears stream down my face.
”Shaye, are you alright?” He presses his face to mine.
”I”m alright.” I bob my head, but I can”t stop trembling.
Footsteps approach, forcing me to tear my attention from Atlas and look up. My eyes collide with Sylvane”s and where I expect to see disappointment, all I see is satisfaction.
”You did well,” she says.
”I fell,” I respond. ”I fell from my dragon. I should be dead.”
”Why do you think I sent you up with Thrane and Artax?” Her head tilts ever so slightly to the side.
”You knew I would fall,” I accuse her and slowly stand to my shaky feet.
”Every Basilius falls their first time.” Her eyes soften. ”But we are always there to catch our own when they do.”
Words fail me. In Midori, when I failed, I was punished. I had to earn my parents” favor back to make up for my shortcomings and misbehaving. Here, there”s not one shred of disappointment in my failure. There”s an expectation to fall short in order to learn and grow, and now I”m not even sure what I”m supposed to say. As if on cue to shatter the tension brewing, Thrane slides off his dragon and saunters toward us. I don”t miss his quirked eyebrow and smug smirk, but despite his mightier-than-thou cadence, I owe him my gratitude.
”Thank you, Thrane,” I say, and seemingly catch him off-guard. ”Please pass along my gratitude to Artax as well.”
Whatever surprise that flashes across his face is gone in an instant and the self-assuredness is firmly back in place. ”Let”s hope you return the favor one day, should I be in need.” He turns to Sylvane and says, ”A successful first day, if you ask me.”
”Indeed,” she agrees. ”A successful first day.”