Kailin
“Across the vast Addolian Ocean, away from mortals and dragons alike, Elu created a refuge for his forgotten brethren—the fallen gods—to dwell in sacred Dolis, among its golden mist-shrouded valleys and diamond-encrusted peaks.”
—Ancient Elucian Myth
Pre-Division Era
"Kailin and Shovia." Morek blocked the doorway as we were about to leave. "Just the two ladies I need to talk to."
"About what?" Shovia asked. "If it's about Erona again, I'm not asking her out on a date for you."
He glared at her. "I told you that's not what I wanted you to do." He looked back to check the corridor for anyone who might be listening in and then leaned back to get closer to Shovia's ear. "I just wanted you to find out if she was interested."
Morek was a handsome, likable guy, and even though he wasn't overly bright, he should have zero problems talking to women, but the poor man got flustered every time he was face to face with a girl he was attracted to.
Should I feel offended that he had no trouble talking to me and Shovia?
Granted, neither of us could rival Erona's beauty, but Shovia had a knockout body, lustrous long brown hair, and oozed sex appeal, so he should at least get a little flustered around her.
Although the fact that they were neighbors and had practically grown up as siblings probably had something to do with the lack of sparks.
I, on the other hand, didn't have such an excuse.
I hadn't grown up with Morek, and even after my family had moved permanently to Skywatcher's Point, I hadn't interacted much with anyone, but I'd definitely noticed Morek.
For a little while, I even had a crush on him, but he hadn't noticed, or if he had, he'd chosen to ignore it.
I couldn't blame him.
The first annum after the move, I hadn't been much fun to be with.
After the attack on our village and Dylon's acceptance into the Dragon Force, I had retreated into myself, and if not for Shovia, who had taken me under her wing and pulled me out from the dark hole I had sunk into, I would probably still be stuck down there.
I was grateful to Elu for saving our village from the savages, and that only a handful of people had perished, but the attack had changed me. I had lost a part of myself that night, and I hadn't been able to get it back.
We moved to Skywatcher's Point mainly because my grandmother needed help running her apothecary, but also because my parents had realized that it would be better for me to get away from our old village.
They'd leased the house along with the farm and everything that went with it to a young couple, and we moved in with Grandma.
The move had been good for me. I felt safer in Skywatcher's Point, and after a while, I'd stopped lying awake at night and listening for dogs barking or feeling for tremors.
I could finally get a good night's sleep without having nightmares about monsters with black-painted faces coming to kill me and mine.
Nineteen people had been murdered that night, people I had known all my life, and their faces still haunted my thoughts.
My gaze drifted to Mount Hope in the distance.
Five days from now, I would climb to the summit and learn whether I was one of the gifted. If I was, and if I made it through the training, I would join the Dragon Force and get a chance to avenge my people, but I was conflicted about that.
The Shedun who had killed and wounded my neighbors were all dead, turned to ash with dragfire, and killing their brethren as revenge didn't burn as hot in my veins even though it should.
I craved a safe and quiet life, on the ground, but I had to reconcile myself to the possibility that instead of going down the mountain with my friends, I might continue to the Dragon Force Citadel sitting behind a rider with my eyes closed in terror and shaking all over, and not just because of my fear of heights.
As magnificent as the creatures were and as purportedly intelligent, they were terrifying and vicious. They didn't think or feel like people.
Dylon had told me about how difficult it was for him to learn to communicate telepathically with his dragonia and all the misunderstandings they'd initially had because of their differences. Now, they were as one, and I didn't know whether it was good or bad.
Dylon had definitely changed, but there could be several reasons for that, other than the solidification of his bond with Jagura. He had matured, hardened, and what he'd seen during his service had scarred his soul.
He was still Dylon, funny and sometimes obnoxious with his uncannily accurate imitations of people and crude jokes at their expense, but while before the service it was what had defined him, now it seemed like he was putting on a show for my benefit and that of our parents.
I loved him just as fiercely, maybe even more so because I didn't get to see him often, but there was a distance between us that hadn't been there before.
If I became a rider, we would have more in common again, and that distance might shrink, but my wish to restore our easy sibling relationship wasn't motivation enough to make me want to become a rider.
It just wasn't how I saw myself.
Dragon riders were supposed to be born, not made, and being gifted did not guarantee becoming a rider.
The training was brutal, and only the best got to the finish line.
So even if I was touched by Elu, I would most likely get kicked out within the first week or two, and even though it would be a little embarrassing, it wouldn't be a big deal. There was no shame in failing.
The only shame was in not trying hard enough, or worse, failing on purpose.
It bordered on blasphemy.
"So, what do you say?" Morek's hopeful tone pierced through my thoughts. "Will you help me?"
"With what?" I asked.
Shovia shook her head. "Where were you just now? Riding on a dragon and gliding along the magnetic lines?"
I grimaced. "That's not how it works."
"That's precisely what I need help with," Morek said. "You have a gift for explaining difficult subjects so even a moron like me can get them."
"You're not a moron." Shovia flicked the top of his head. "Your brain is just too busy dreaming about girls. You have zero capacity left for critical thinking."
He smiled sheepishly. "What's more important than finding my one and only?"
"That's a load of crap." Shovia rolled her eyes. "As if you are looking for a wife."
"Eventually, that's the goal of all this dancing, isn't it?"
Shovia shook her head. "You are lucky to be so good at the athletic stuff so you get merit points to counter your barely passing grades in other subjects. If you want a command post, you'll need to do better on the academics."
I chuckled. "For me, it was the other way around. Remember the accursed rope climbing? Your father let me pass even though I barely made it to the first knot."
Shovia didn't bother to deny it. We both knew it was true.
The coach hadn't needed to do that. The merit points from my academic classes would have more than compensated for my rope climbing failure, but he hadn't wanted me to have a shameful failing grade on my record.
Did that constitute lying? Had Coach Emil committed blasphemy to help me?
As counterintuitive as it seemed, truth was not absolute, it was subjective, and Coach Emil could have claimed that he'd let me pass because of the effort I had put into achieving the goal. That wouldn't have been a lie. I had really tried.
Morek puffed out his chest. "I'm not great at studying, but I don't need to be to become an awesome dragon rider. If I have the gift, I don't have to ace any other tests. It's enough that I pass the damn refresher."
He had an uncle who was gifted, so it was possible that he had the gift as well, but if he didn't pass the comprehensive refresher, he couldn't attend the upcoming pilgrimage and would have to wait until the next one, provided that he passed it then.
I smiled encouragingly. "I do not doubt that you will make a great rider."
"So will you." Morek leaned and patted my back.
"I know that you are not thrilled about bonding with a dragon, but I can't for the life of me understand why not.
It's not just about the rush of soaring through the sky, which is the most awesome thing any human can do.
It's also about living practically forever. "
It was a good selling point, and it wasn't a lie, but it wasn't the whole truth either. So, even though it didn't violate the Second Sacred Truth principle, it did violate its spirit.
"Show me a rider who lived to an old age," I said. "Most of them end up dead sooner than they would have if they weren't riders, let alone living forever. Secondly, it means never having a real life outside the Force."
Dragon riders served for life, and since their lifespans could be extended indefinitely thanks to the bond with their dragons, that life was theoretically much longer than that of regular Aurorysans—a reward for sacrificing everything in service to Elucia or punishment, depending on how one looked at it.
"The shaman," Morek said. "No one knows how old Saphir is. Some say that he's two thousand years old, and he doesn't look a day over forty."
He was right about that. The shaman's hair was all white, but his skin was smooth and his stride youthful.
He had to be more than a thousand years old because he survived the Second Extinction War, which had happened one thousand and thirty years ago, but no one knew how old he had been when it had happened, and Saphir wasn't volunteering the information.
"He might be the only exception." I waved a dismissive hand. "So, what do you need help with?"
"Everything."
I narrowed my eyes at him. "Don't tell me you haven't studied at all."
A sheepish smile spread over Morek's handsome face. "Fine. I won't tell you that."
"You're terrible." I turned on my heel and returned to my desk. "There is no way I can cram everything into a couple of hours."