Chapter 10 Alar
"What divides us runs deeper than blood, yet what binds us runs deeper still."
—An Elurian proverb
Post-Division Era
The cacophony of voices and clinking glasses that welcomed Codric and me as we entered the bar felt like a warm embrace. Other than the rough-looking furniture and lack of professional decor, the place smelled and sounded like any of the bars we had frequented in Vedona.
The main difference was the way people looked at us.
As we made our way to an empty table in the corner, I could feel the stares of dozens of eyes upon us; some were just curious, but many were openly hostile.
"Not exactly a warm welcome, is it?" Codric murmured, his easy smile masking the tension in his voice.
I shrugged, pulling out a chair and settling into it. "We're outsiders, and they regard us as competition for the few available spots."
It was idiotic, given that everyone who possessed the gift was accepted into the training program. After that, it was up to each cadet's ability and luck to survive the training, pass the tests, and get into the Dragon Force.
"I think it's more about them being suspicious of foreigners," Codric said. "They are not used to seeing Elurians in these parts."
A serving girl approached our table, her expression carefully neutral. "What can I get for you?"
"Two of your finest Elucian ales, please." Codric turned on the full force of his charm, with a honeyed tone followed by a bright and friendly smile.
To her credit, she didn't so much as blink. "Coming right up," she said, turning on her heel and disappearing into the crowd.
I leaned back in my chair, taking in our surroundings.
The bar was a large hall, with many round wooden tables and chairs that were an assortment of empty barrels, roughly chopped tree stumps, and even some large empty cans.
It was built for scale with no regard for aesthetics.
The idea was to accommodate the mass of Elucians who arrived from all over the country for the pilgrimage, and not to wow them with fancy decor.
"You know," Codric said, his voice low, "I'm starting to think that we should order a meal and take it to our room. These people really don't want us here."
"We need to make a stand." I scanned the bar. Most of the patrons were pointedly ignoring us, but a few were shooting us nasty looks. "We're not here to make friends. We're here for the dragons."
Well, that wasn't entirely true. If I wanted to learn the secrets of Elucia, befriending some people was actually a good idea. The problem was that making friends had never been something I was good at. Codric was better, but then he wasn't very discriminating about who he befriended.
As our drinks arrived, I wrapped my hand around the cool glass, more for something to do with it than from any real desire to drink.
Codric, on the other hand, took a long swallow and grinned. "Not bad, though it's a far cry from Elurian ale."
I was about to remind him to keep his voice down when two men walked toward our table, and from the way they were looking at us, they were not coming over for a polite chat.
The men were tall and broad-shouldered, with the kind of muscle that came from hard work rather than vanity.
The taller of the two inflated his chest and sneered. "Well, well. What do we have here? A couple of Elurian lordling hopefuls? Dreaming about riding dragons?"
Next to me, Codric tensed, but he kept his expression friendly and humble or as humble as my cousin could manage to act. "Just two pilgrims, here to hear our fate from the famous Saphir Fatewever."
The other guy snorted. "You're wasting your time, Elurians, and taking spots from deserving Elucians. Go home to your comfortable beds and secure cities. There is nothing for you here."
I took a slow sip of my ale, watching the exchange with outward calm, but beneath the table, my free hand had curled into a fist.
Codric leaned forward, his green eyes glinting with a mix of amusement and challenge. "Is that so? And here I thought Elu's truth illuminated the path of all mortals who sought it. Or did I misunderstand the teachings?"
The tall guy's face darkened. "You misunderstand a lot of things, Elurian.
Like thinking you belong on the Dragon Force.
You have no idea what it's like to live with the constant threat of Shedun attacks, to lose family and friends to these demonic monsters.
Are you ready to become our defender, to pledge your life to Elucia and its people, or are you here just for the fame and glory? "
I saw Codric's smile falter for just a moment, and I knew he was thinking of the stories we'd heard on our journey here. The raids, the tunnels, the ever-present danger.
"We may not have lived it," he said, his voice softer now, "but we've heard the stories.
We respect the sacrifices your people are forced to make.
I won't lie. Alar and I dreamt of riding dragons since we were young boys, but we will be honored to defend Elucia and its people against the savage barbarians who seek to annihilate its people and erase dragonkind from existence. "
The shorter man laughed, a harsh, grating sound. "You defending us? A couple of dandies who have never fought for anything other than attention? Go back to your cushy lives in Eluria and leave the real work to those who can handle it."
I felt something inside me snap at that.
Slowly, I set my glass down. Both men tensed, clearly expecting a fight.
But I simply crossed my arms over my chest and gave them a condescending look that I knew would infuriate them.
"You are just showing your ignorance and lack of manners by making accusations without knowing the first thing about us.
" I kept my voice low and let loose my aristocratic accent.
"We are not going away, so you'd better get used to our presence and try to be civil.
" I smiled. "You don't want us sending a message home to Eluria and telling all of our friends and relatives how rude and unwelcoming Elucians are.
" I uncrossed my arms. "It would be a shame if the Elurian Federation started to rethink its support of Elucia. "
It was an empty threat since Eluria needed Elucia as much as Elucia needed Eluria, but these men didn't necessarily know that.
The tall guy's face turned red, and as he took a step forward, he clenched his hands into fists. "We don't need your bleeding support. You can take it and shove it up your—"
"That's enough." A booming voice cut through the tension.
All four of us turned to see a man making his way toward our table. He had a commanding presence about him, and he moved with the fluid grace of a fighter, but it was the insignia on his jacket, a stylized dragon, that marked him as a rider.
As the two Elucians stepped back, I had no doubt that they hoped the floor would crack open and swallow them.
"What are your names?" the rider asked them.
"Gareth, sir," the tall one said.
"Lorn, sir." His friend kept his eyes on his boots.
"Harassing fellow pilgrims is unbecoming and unacceptable behavior. Apologize to these gentlemen at once."
As the two mumbled their apologies, shooting us one last glare before melting back into the crowd, both Codric and I dipped our heads in respect to the rider.
"I'm sorry about that," he said. "Perhaps by the end of the pilgrimage, these two will realize that they do not command fate and that Elu is her ultimate arbiter."
I wondered what he meant by that, but this was not the time or place to question him. We were already the center of attention, and I wanted this fiasco to end as soon as possible.
Codric flashed a smile and offered the rider his hand. "No harm done, sir. We understand the sentiment, even if we don't agree with the method."
"Well said." The rider clasped Codric's hand. "I'm Theron, commander of the Sixth Squadron in the Fury Wing."
My eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. The Fury Wing was legendary, and only the best of the best were tapped for it.
"It's a great honor to meet you, Commander. I'm Alar." I extended my hand, and he shook it.
After the introductions were over, Commander Theron pulled up a chair, settling in as if he'd known us for years.
"So," he said, his keen eyes studying us, "what prompts two affluent Elurians to join the pilgrimage?"
I exchanged a glance with Codric, silently communicating my suspicion that Theron, commander of the Sixth Squadron, hadn't just happened to be in the bar. He was one more layer of security, ensuring that we weren't saboteurs or spies.
A commander in the Fury Wing had to be the top layer of scrutiny, probably the last one before we got to face the shaman who would determine our fate.
I wasn't angry. I understood and respected the level of security Elucians employed to screen foreigners.
As disgraceful as I found it, some Elurians sided with the Sitorians even though our ethnoreligions were opposite of each other.
Our society had its share of mentally deficient people and those who fell prey to powerful propaganda or sold their souls to the devil for some of the illegal drugs the Sitorians manufactured and smuggled into Eluria.
Theron could suspect us of being Sitorians or even Shedun sympathizers who had been brainwashed, coerced or bribed to spy, sabotage, or worse.
We could even be Sitorians in disguise.
It wasn’t difficult for a Sitorian to assume Elurian or even Elucian ethnicity. We were essentially the same people, and the physical variations between us weren’t significant.
The disparity in appearance was mostly extrinsic.
The more profound differences were intrinsic and not so easily distinguishable. Some Elucians could form mental bonds with dragons and some Sitorians could control giant worms. Elurians could do nothing of the kind, but despite that, we were the most prosperous of the three nations.
"My cousin and I have always dreamt of becoming dragon riders," I said. "But we have only recently discovered that we have distant Elucian ancestry. We took it as a sign that we should try to fulfill our childhood dreams."
Theron nodded. "Elucian blood is strong. Even when it's as diluted as yours, it has a way of calling to its own."
Surprisingly, he seemed to approve of us, and for the first time since arriving at the bar, I was hopeful that Codric and I might one day feel like we belonged here—that we really deserved to become riders.