Set in the larger universe of the Anumatian gods, Bonds of Wings and Fury will converge with The Children of the Gods in future installments.

In a world where dragons dominate the skies and colossal worms tunnel through mountains, three nations teeter on the brink of war.

Like every Elucian, Kailin must brave the perilous pilgrimage to Mount Hope's summit, where an ancient shaman will decide her fate. A select few are destined to bond with dragons, and for most, it’s the ultimate prize. Not so for Kailin, who is hiding a paralyzing fear of heights and would rather sketch the magnificent beasts than ride them.

Alar appears to be a privileged Elurian seeking the glory and immortality of dragon riders. Yet beneath his aristocratic facade lies a secret agenda that could disrupt the delicate alliance between the reclusive Elucia and the cosmopolitan Elurian Federation.

When Kailin and Alar cross paths, sparks fly, and as they ascend the perilous mountain, hunted by shadowy assassins and tested by ancient rites, their unlikely bond deepens. 

Defying a thousand years of tradition, an impossible selection puts the star-crossed lovers at the center of an ancient prophecy. But in a world where dragons have their own agendas and even the gods aren't what they seem, the greatest threat may yet come from within.

TIMELINE

LEGEND OF THE DRAGON PACT

First humans on Aurorys

73000 are called by the God Elu to come through the divine portal

731 are chosen to bond with dragons.

365 young women

and

365 young men become riders

A wise woman is touched twice and becomes the first shaman.

* * *

THE GREAT DIVISION

Year 8279 After The Dragon Pact

Aurorys splits into three nations and three religions

Elucians continue to worship the Two-Faced God Elu and adhere to his Precepts of Truth

Elurionas (later the Elurian Federation) worship the creative and merciful face of Elu

ELURION

The Sitorionas (later the Sitorian Union) worship the destructive and vengeful face of Elu

ELUSITOR 

* * *

FIRST EXTINCTION WAR

Sitoria attacks Elucia

Year 8943 After the Dragon Pact

Year 664 Post Division 

* * *

SECOND EXTINCTION WAR

Sitoria attacks Elucia

Year 10633 After the Dragon Pact

Year 2354 Post Division 

* * *

SHEDUN ATTACK ON KAILIN’S VILLAGE

Year 11663 After the Dragon Pact

Year 3384 Post Divisio

Chapter 1: Kaili

         Five years ago

The 27th Day of the Third Month

Year 11663 of the Dragon Pact

Year 3384 post Division

It is said that you can smell death on the wind before it comes to claim its due. Tonight, the air tastes of frost and pine and something else—something metallic and sharp that makes my skin crawl—but I ignore it and convince myself that there is no chance the monsters will come for me on the one night I'm left alone in the house.

—From the journal of Kailin Strom

 

 

I added a sketch to my journal entry, trying to capture visually the feeling I struggled to express in words. Drawing had always helped calm my nerves, turning vague impressions and uncomfortable feelings into more tangible visual representations, but tonight even the familiar rhythm of pencil scratching against paper couldn't quiet the churning in my stomach.

Perhaps it was the wind howling outside my window or the cold seeping through every crack and crevice in the old stone walls, but I didn't really mind the cold, and I was used to the wind, so neither could be the cause of my sense of foreboding.

The most likely culprit was my brother's impending pilgrimage and my apprehension over the fate he would learn at its culmination.

Coupled with our parents' return trip home and the potential dangers they might face on the journey, was it a wonder that I was anxious?

Shedun attacks were rare in our area, but no place in Elucia was immune to this scourge.

Still, what was probably at the root of my unease was the realization that Dylon would not be coming home regardless of the fate awaiting him at the summit of Mount Hope.

When my brother had walked out the front door this morning, he'd left our childhood behind, and the life we'd shared was already reduced to a collection of memories and journal sketches.

With a sigh, I tucked the journal under my pillow, turned on my side, and propped myself on my elbow to gaze out the window.

The auroras were particularly spectacular tonight, great ribbons of green and purple light dancing across the sky. Their glow transformed the mountainside, casting an ethereal light over the landscape and making the snow-covered peaks shimmer. From afar, it all looked magical, but Elucia's breathtaking beauty was as harsh and unforgiving as its people.

In the distance, I could make out Mount Hope, its sacred summit disappearing into the clouds.

Tomorrow at dawn, Dylon would start the ascent, and in three days, he would reach the Circle of Fate and learn his destiny.

In five years, it would be my turn.

Thousands of young Elucians joined the three annual pilgrimages, hoping to be declared gifted and become riders, but only a handful were selected, if any.

The ability to bond with dragons was rare, dormant until awakened by Elu's touch and coaxed to the surface by the shaman's words. The trait ran in families, and since neither of our parents was gifted, it was highly probable that Dylon and I would be found talentless and get assigned to other branches of the Elucian military. But there was that one distant relative who'd been gifted, and that was enough to feed my brother's dreams and my nightmares.

I was probably the only Elucian dreading the possibility of becoming a dragon rider, and there were several good reasons for that, but chief among them was my fear of heights. It was uncommon for a mountain-dweller, and I did my best to hide the embarrassing affliction, but merciful Elu was all-knowing, and I clung to the hope that the shaman would not decree a fate I couldn't endure.

Naturally, if I was chosen, I would fulfill my duty and serve my country to the best of my ability, but just imagining myself astride a dragon sent chills down my spine. I could barely handle a hover-car skirting a ravine even with my eyes tightly shut. How could I possibly soar through the skies on the back of a flying beast?

With stubborn determination, that's how.

I was an Elucian, after all, and Elucians didn't let fear rule them.

Telling myself that I needed to set these thoughts aside and get some rest, I moved my journal to the windowsill and burrowed under my thick blanket, pulling it up to my nose. The warmth slowly lulled me to sleep, but I had barely started to doze off when Chicha's warning bark sliced through the night like a thunderclap, startling me awake and sending adrenaline coursing through my veins.

I bolted upright, the loud and rapid rhythm of my heartbeat nearly drowning out the barking. But then, as my terror burned through the cobwebs of sleep and my mind processed what was probably a false alarm, I took a calming breath and commanded my racing heart to slow down.

It was nothing.

Chicha had the courage of a mouse, treating every rustling bush and passing night bird as mortal threats, but despite her tiny size, she had the lungs of a lioness and a ferocious bark.

We'd all learned to dismiss her dramatic outbursts.

In the event of real danger, the night guards would blast the bullhorns, rousing the village defenders to arms.

"Quiet, Chicha!" I called out, dragging my pillow over my head.

She barked once more in defiance before dropping to a low growl, but that didn't last long, and soon she launched into another volley of frantic barking.

I loved that little dog dearly, but right now, I could happily banish her to the sheep pen. Not that I'd actually do it—partly because I would hate to extract myself from the warm cocoon of my blankets, but mostly because Chicha had mastered the art of wounded dignity. She'd give me that look, all betrayed eyes and drooping ears, until guilt gnawed a hole in my resolve.

Instead, I tried to ignore the racket she was making and go back to sleep, but it was no use.

My mind might have rationalized that the barking was not a likely sign of danger, but the lingering surge of anxious energy coursing through my veins would take time to dissipate. 

Sighing, I turned on my back and let my thoughts drift to Dylon and the fate awaiting him at the end of his pilgrimage. Was it selfish of me to wish for my brother not to be granted his heart's desire?

Despite the so-called immortality the bond bestowed upon dragon riders, they rarely survived to old age, and those who did seldom got married or had kids, even though they were encouraged to do so to produce the next generation of riders.

There were never enough of them.

The trait was rare and the number of gifted in the general Elucian population was gradually dwindling, but I couldn't blame the riders for not wanting to raise a family in the Citadel, knowing that their kids might get orphaned before they were ready to fly.

I didn't want that for Dylon. I wanted him to find love, to give our parents grandchildren to spoil, and to grow old in our village, where we knew everyone and everyone knew us.

The truth was that I missed him already, and he'd been gone less than a day. If he joined the Dragon Force, months would pass between his visits home. But if my selfish prayers were answered and he was assigned to any other branch of service, he'd return sooner and more frequently, and when his duty years ended, he'd settle back in our village, and life would continue as it should.

Dylon would hate me if he knew what I prayed for, but he would thank me later when he was surrounded by family, friends, and neighbors whom he'd known his entire life, instead of the cold, lonely skies. Because I’d volunteered to stay behind and watch over our livestock and Chicha so our parents could see him off, I wouldn't even get to hug him one more time and wish him luck before the start of his pilgrimage.

Suddenly the barking ceased, replaced by a quiet whining, which wasn't Chicha's normal mode of operation.

Something was wrong.

I bolted out of bed and hurried downstairs. My bare feet were silent on the wooden steps, but Chicha should have heard me and rushed to greet me, and the fact that she didn't added to my growing sense of dread.

In the kitchen, I found her wedged beneath the sink in her favorite hiding spot, her small body shaking.

"What is it, girl?" I reached for her.

She whimpered and pressed herself further back into her nook.

My heart began to pound. Chicha might be a cowardly little thing, jumping at shadows and fleeing from her own reflection, but in all her years, she had never shrunk away from me.

Her terror was eroding my courage, but I couldn't let fear paralyze me. I had to keep a clear head.

It was most likely a mountain lion or some other wild beast trying to snatch one of our sheep, and the distressed bleats from their shed reinforced my assessment. A Shedun attack was always a possibility, albeit remote, but the guards in the watchtowers would have spotted the monsters long before Chicha could have sniffed them out and sounded the alarm.

Still, a mountain lion was not a beast to trifle with, and I have never taken one on by myself, but there was no one else home, and it was up to me to protect our livestock.

I could do this.

I might be only sixteen, but I had a steady hand and a true aim.

My skill with a rifle was praised not only by my father but also by my instructor in the youth training camp. Even Dylon had grudgingly admitted that I was a better shot than he was.

I can do this, I repeated it in my head as I hurried to the front door, pushed my feet into my mud-covered boots, got my coat on, and grabbed a rifle and two boxes of ammunition from the shelf above the doorframe.

My hand shook as I unlatched the locks and opened the door, but the little courage I’d managed to muster fizzled out as soon as I stepped outside. 

Something felt off.

Despite the howling winds, there was an unnatural stillness about. The trees swayed in the wind, but apart from that, nothing moved. Everything around me seemed to be holding its collective breath. Even the sheep had gone quiet, and Chicha's whimpers had ceased.

The small hairs on the back of my neck tingled as dread spread through my veins. Something was definitely wrong, and I had to decide whether to backtrack into my house and lock the door or keep going. 

Glancing at the nearest watchtower, I hoped to see the night guard's silhouette against the aurora-lit sky, but deep down, I already knew that the tower would be empty even before my gaze confirmed it.

I should have panicked. I should have run back into the house and barricaded the door. Instead, a sense of numbness enveloped me. I was in denial, trying to convince myself that this couldn't be happening tonight of all nights, but at the same time I was certain that it was indeed happening and that I probably wouldn't make it out alive.

"Maybe the guard went down to relieve himself," I muttered, in another effort to convince myself that everything was alright, but the words felt hollow even as I spoke them.

The guards never left their posts until their replacement arrived. If they had to, they did their business in a bucket.

The guard was most likely dead, and it was up to me to sound the alarm, provided that I made it to the tower before they got me.

Without making a conscious decision to move, I was already running, crouched and silent, with the rifle slung across my body. It took me mere moments to traverse the short distance between my home and the closest watchtower, but it felt like so much longer.

As I hurried up the ladder, my sweaty hands slid over the smooth wooden rungs that were worn by years of use. Climbing, I still tried to convince myself that I was overreacting and that there was a perfectly reasonable explanation for the guard's absence, but it was just self-talk to boost my floundering courage and keep me going.

One more rung and I would be at eye level with the platform, but my foot hovered in the air, refusing to move.

I drew in a breath, hoping to steady my nerves—but the sharp, coppery scent that filled my lungs only served to confirm my fears.

Even then, knowing what I would find, I wasn't prepared for the scene that greeted me when I finally forced myself to climb up that step. The guard lay face down in a spreading pool of blood, his throat cut, his rifle lying just beyond his outstretched hand.

Somtan. I recognized him by the plaid shirt I had seen him wearing so many times before.

I stood paralyzed, my mind refusing to accept what my eyes were seeing.

Remembering him carrying me on his shoulders during the harvest festival when I was little, I couldn't accept that I would never see his cheerful smile again or that his four young children would have to grow up without a father. His seven nieces and nephews would never get to ride on their uncle's broad shoulders again, and his elderly parents would now face their final years without their son.

The world tilted sideways, and bitter acid rose in my throat as my body finally reacted to the horror before me. I doubled over, ready to empty the contents of my stomach.

Except, I didn't.

Somehow, training kicked in, and I forced the bile down and tore my eyes away from the still-growing pool of blood.

There was no time for shock or grief. The village was under attack, and if I didn't move fast, things would quickly get much worse.

The Shedun must have sent a forward stealth team to silently eliminate the guards, and their main force would soon follow to violate, torture, and slaughter the rest of us.

We had minutes, at most.

My hands shook violently as I grabbed the bullhorn, and it took me two tries to position my finger over the button and sound the alarm. It blared across the sleeping village, its harsh sound shattering the silence and the false sense of calm, urgently rousing everyone.

Lights began to flicker in the windows, and in mere moments, doors flew open as my neighbors emerged with rifles clutched in their hands.

At the sound of heavy footsteps on the ladder, I turned with my rifle trained on the intruder, but it was just old Ednis climbing onto the platform. The grizzled veteran took in the scene with one glance, then knelt beside Somtan's body.

"He's gone," I said, my voice sounding strangely calm to my own ears, like it wasn't I who was speaking but some alternative version of me.

Ednis checked anyway, his weathered fingers seeking a pulse that we both knew wouldn't be there. When he straightened, his face was grim.

"Get yourself home, Kailin," he said gruffly. "Hide in the cellar and bar the door from the inside. Don't open it. Not even if someone you know is telling you that it's okay to come out."

The Shedun were known to hold a knife to a child's throat, forcing its desperate parents to betray their neighbors. But they were also known to set fire to homes, so hiding in a cellar was not such a good strategy either.

My fingers tightened around my rifle. "I'm staying here." I was surprised by the steel in my voice. "I know how to use this, and I have two full boxes of ammunition in my pocket. I can help."

"Kailin—"

"I'm staying, Ednis." My hands were still shaking, and I had to grip my rifle even tighter. "I feel safer here with you, fighting, than hiding and cowering."

Ednis studied me for a moment, then nodded. "Don't let yourself get killed, girl. Your parents will never forgive me if you die on my watch. Stay close to me and do as I say, understood? No stupid heroics."

"Yes, sir. I mean, no, sir."

I scanned the darkness beyond the village boundaries, but with the auroras casting ever-shifting shadows across the mountainside, it was difficult to distinguish movement from tricks of the light. Somewhere out there, the Shedun were gathering, preparing to attack, and soon they would emerge from the shadows like a pack of demons, ready to devour every living soul in their path.

Was it too much to hope that they had abandoned their plans after I sounded the alarm?

I clung to the sliver of hope even though I knew we wouldn't be that lucky.

All four watchmen had failed to sound the alarm, forcing me to conclude that they’d been killed, so luck wasn't a word I should use, and yet I was immensely relieved and grateful that Dylon and my parents were safe, away in Skywatcher's Point.

"They're coming," Ednis whispered beside me.

I raised my rifle, sighting along its barrel into the aurora-lit landscape.

The night stretched on, tense and terrible in its stillness, save for the howling winds that only added to the dread. None of the animals bleated, mooed, or neighed, and I wondered why they were so quiet. Did they sense death's approach and keep silent to escape its notice?

The Shedun came like shadows made flesh, materializing from the darkness like the demons they were. Covered in black from head to toe, their faces painted with black tar, they seemed to absorb what little light reached them. The only splash of color on them was the red symbol of Elusitor stamped on their foreheads.

They moved with an unnatural speed that made my skin crawl.

Rumors claimed that they used dark magic, fueling it with the blood and suffering of their victims, but I didn't believe in magic. I believed in medicines, and there were herbs that could enhance performance for a short period of time. The same substances also ravaged the mind, unleashing a savage madness that perfectly explained the Shedun's infamous brutality.

It wasn't sorcery that had created these monsters.

They were manufactured by a warped ideology, twisted, evil faith, and science.

"Steady," Ednis murmured beside me. "Wait for my signal."

I forced myself to breathe slowly, trying to still my trembling, sweaty hands. My rifle felt impossibly heavy as I tracked the approaching figures through its sight.

Could I do this?

Could I aim and shoot to kill someone when I had never shot a living thing before?

This wasn't like the practice range. This was real, but I had told Ednis that I could help, and by Elu, I would.

The first shot came from the western tower—a crack that whipped through the unnatural silence. A Shedun dropped, but the others didn't even break stride. They didn't mind losing their own because they glorified death, and life meant nothing to them.

"Now!" Ednis said.

I squeezed the trigger without thinking, the rifle's recoil slamming into my shoulder. My target stumbled but kept coming. I'd hit him, but not well enough. I had to keep shooting. Gritting my teeth, I took aim again.

The night erupted into chaos. Gunfire echoed off the mountainsides as our village defenders engaged the attackers. The Shedun returned fire, their weapons making odd whistling sounds.

Before long, I barely noticed the rifle's recoil and the violent clap of detonation with each bullet fired. I became one with the weapon, a machine without feelings. The air was thick with the smell of gunpowder, but my breathing became steady, measured, and my aim improved.

I was defending my people—nothing else existed beyond that singular purpose. Later, I would have to confront this cold, empty space inside me, this strange detachment that had settled over my mind. But for now, that void was a gift I couldn't afford to question.

"Down!" Ednis yanked me to the floor of the watchtower as bullets splintered the wood where I'd been standing. "Did they teach you nothing in the Youth Training Camp, girl?"

The void shattered, the clarity was gone, and terror flooded back along with the raw horror of what I'd seen, what I'd done, and what I still had to do.

"Sorry," I murmured, trying to control the shaking of my hands and slow down the frantic beat of my heart.

I still had a job to do, and I couldn't succumb to panic.

When he released me, I followed what I'd been taught and crawled to the other side of the tower, peering through a gap in the wooden slats.

Three Shedun were attempting to flank the Marson family's home. I lined up my shot and fired. The nearest one went down hard, clutching his leg. His companions hesitated, and in that moment of indecision, they made perfect targets for the defenders in the eastern tower.

"Good shot," Ednis grunted, picking off another attacker with a careful aim. "Keep watching that side. Don't let them get behind the houses."

Time seemed to lose all meaning. I fired, reloaded, fired again. My shoulder ached from the rifle's recoil, and my ears rang with the constant gunfire. But I didn't stop.

I couldn't stop.

A scream cut through the noise—one of ours.

I risked a glance and saw Weber clutching his arm, blood seeping between his fingers. But he kept firing one-handed, his face twisted with determination and pain.

"They're retreating!" someone shouted. "They're running!"

Sure enough, the Shedun were melting back into the shadows as quickly as they'd appeared, dragging or carrying their wounded with them, but leaving the dead behind.

"Keep firing!" Ednis bellowed.

I tracked a fleeing figure through my sight, squeezing off two shots in quick succession. The second one found its mark, and the Shedun crashed to the ground.

He didn't get up again.

Within minutes, the surviving demons had disappeared into the darkness, and I could imagine them jumping into the mouth of their tunnel—a dark hole torn into the mountainside, carved out by one of their giant worms.

The sudden silence was deafening.

"Is it over?" I asked.

Instead of answering, Ednis turned and lifted his eyes to the sky. As I followed his gaze, there was nothing to see, but I heard the distant beat of powerful wings approaching.

A thunderous roar shattered the night, so powerful that it made the wooden tower tremble. My head snapped up just as five massive shapes burst through the auroras, their wings creating gusts of wind that whipped my hair around my face.

Their scales gleamed like polished steel in the ethereal light as they dove after the fleeing Shedun. The lead dragon opened its maw, and the stream of blue-white flame that erupted turned night into blinding day. The raiders were consumed in an instant, their bodies reduced to ash before they could draw a breath to scream.

I should have felt satisfaction watching our enemies burn, but the raw display of power made my insides twist, and the acrid stench of burning flesh brought about a wave of nausea.

This was different from rifle fire.

This was devastation on another level—nature's fury harnessed as a weapon. And yet, death by dragfire was swift and far kinder than what the Shedun offered their victims.

These vile creatures did not deserve such mercy.

Fueled by an irrational hatred of dragons and those who bonded with them, the Shedun dedicated their collective miserable existence to hunting both. Every life they extinguished was an offering to their abhorrent god of death, a deity as cruel and as insatiable as its worshippers.

Elusitor, the dark face of Elu, the deceiver, the destroyer, the tormentor.

It was this relentless onslaught that forced all Elucians to dedicate long years of their lives to military service, standing with our winged, fire-breathing allies against the tide of darkness.

The ground shook as the massive lead dragon landed in front of our tower, and I instinctively gripped my rifle tighter, even though I knew it didn't mean us harm.

Frankly, I was as awed as I was terrified or perhaps the other way around.

No, fear was definitely the stronger emotion. This was an apex predator, and I was a puny human it could snuff out with a hiccup. 

Dragons were just as intelligent as humans, but to assume that they were anything like us was a mistake. As my dragon lore teacher had said on multiple occasions, they didn't think like us, they didn't feel like us, and they didn't make the same judgment calls.

It was never wise to lower one's guard or underestimate their destructive power.

It or rather he, because it was definitely a male, bent his long neck so his eyes were level with mine, holding me transfixed. Glowing like molten gold, those eyes conveyed intelligence and curiosity, and as he regarded me, I felt as if he was looking straight into my soul and measuring my worth.

Mesmerized and terrified, I didn't dare to breathe, but then something stirred inside of me, and I felt compelled to shift my gaze from those golden eyes to those of the rider, which were no less captivating and unnerving.

It almost felt as if the dragon wanted me to look at his rider and had somehow communicated his wish to me, but that was absurd.

Even if I had the gift, it wouldn't manifest until I was twenty-one and the shaman coaxed it to the surface on top of Mount Hope, which would take place five years from now.

Still, here I was, gazing into the impossibly dark eyes of the imposing rider and feeling dazed and lightheaded. Was that why I was seeing gold flakes swirling around his irises, even though he was too far away for me to see such minute details?

Could it be another thought that the dragon had planted in my mind?

When the rider finally released his hold on my gaze, I sucked in my first breath since the start of this strange encounter. He shifted his eyes to my rifle, then the bodies of the Shedun strewn on the ground, and a small smile lifted his lips. A two-fingered salute followed, but instead of offering it to Ednis, it seemed as if he was offering it to me.

Did he think that I, a sixteen-year-old girl, had killed all those Shedun by myself?

I wanted to correct his misconception, but the words refused to form on my lips. Then his dragon dipped its head as if to second the rider's opinion, and my head started spinning.

I stumbled back.

"Easy, girl," Ednis said quietly as he put a hand on my back. "Never show a dragon that you fear it. It might mistake you for prey."

"I'm not afraid," I murmured. "Not anymore."

I was mesmerized, enthralled, and some other emotion I couldn't decipher. A yearning for something.

No, yearning wasn't the right word to describe the intensity of what I was feeling either.

Need.

I needed… what?

To climb on the back of that dragon and look into the eyes of its rider from up close?

What an absurd thought that was!

I was surrounded by carnage, the smell of burned flesh still permeating the air, and yet I was thinking about a guy and the strange connection I felt to him?

It must be the shock or the adrenaline or whatever other hormones were released during battle. Survivor's high. Perhaps a post-combat elation. I'd read about that, but never really understood the phenomenon before.

Now I did. 

The thrall was only broken when the dragon launched back into the sky with a powerful beat of those massive wings, the downdraft nearly knocking me over. Ednis steadied me with a firm grip on my arm, and together, we watched as the dragons pursued the last of the fleeing Shedun.

The night was lit up with multiple streams of flame, turning the mountainside into a canvas of fire and shadow. It was an awe-inspiring display, and in my post-battle euphoria, I cheered our dragons on. I wanted them to turn every fleeing Shedun into ash so none of the monsters could return to slaughter the people of another Elucian village.

"They're making sure none escape back into the mountains," Ednis said, his voice filled with vengeful satisfaction. "Burning them as they try to crawl back into their tunnel and then sealing the hole."

Once their grim task was completed, the dragons wheeled overhead in formation, with the huge obsidian dragon that had landed before us taking point and leading the others in a final pass over our village before disappearing into the ribbon of lights above.

The sudden absence of their presence left me feeling strangely hollow.

Despite the auroras still dancing overhead, the night suddenly seemed darker, smaller somehow.

"Those eyes," I whispered, more to myself than to Ednis. "I've never seen anything like that."

"Aye," he said. "That's why we call them the Wise Ones."

I hadn't meant the dragon's eyes, although they too were magnificent. It was the rider's gaze that had seared itself into my soul, and I knew that I would dream about it for many nights to come.

I shook my head and took a long, steadying breath.

As the haze lifted, reality crashed back with the acrid smell of gunpowder mixed with the sharp scent of dragfire, the nauseating smell of burned flesh, the copper stench of blood, the dead bodies strewn about, and the moans of the wounded.

Then, the throbbing pain in my palms suddenly registered—the splinters buried in my skin from the tower's rough wood making themselves known.

"We have to make sure all the Shedun left behind are actually dead." Ednis was already moving toward the ladder. "We also need to check for survivors and prepare our dead for their rites."

I started to follow, but my legs wouldn't cooperate. Now that the immediate danger had passed, my body was remembering how to be afraid. My hands began to shake violently, and I clung to my rifle by sheer determination.

"Hey now," Ednis's voice softened as he turned back to me. "It's alright, Kailin. It's over. You did good."

A sob caught in my throat. "I killed people."

"No," Ednis said firmly, walking back to me and placing his hands on my shoulders. "You killed monsters. Those weren't people out there, Kailin. People don't slaughter innocent villagers in their beds or torture captives to death for the sake of their twisted god's pleasure."

The tears came then, hot and unstoppable.

Ednis pulled me into a rough embrace, letting me sob against his shoulder. "It's okay. Let it all out."

He smelled of gunpowder and pine smoke, so much like my father that it was enough to center me and help me regain my composure.

When my tears finally slowed, he held me at arm's length, studying my face. "You've got steel in you, girl. Now, go on home and get some sleep if you can. We'll take care of the rest."

"But I can help—"

"You've helped plenty," he cut me off. "This next part is not for you. Go home, check on your animals, and try to get some rest. Tomorrow, we'll honor our dead, but tonight, there's more ugly work to be done."

I wanted to argue, but exhaustion was already settling into my bones. Looking down from the tower, I could see shapes moving in the predawn light—villagers emerging from their homes, checking on neighbors, gathering the fallen.

As I climbed down the ladder behind Ednis, my muscles protested every movement, and as I made my way home, every shadow made me flinch, every sound had me clutching my rifle, but finally I made it through the door.

I needed to check on the sheep, but it would have to wait.

Chicha launched herself into my arms the moment I crouched down, her tiny body vibrating with relieved whimpers.

"We are okay," I whispered, holding her close. "Thanks to you. You saved us, you little alarm fiend." I kissed her shaggy head. "Wait until Mom and Dad hear that. Mom will make you your favorite snack."

At the word snack, Chicha perked up and lifted her snout. 

"Tomorrow, sweetie." I kissed her head again.

Tomorrow, there would be funerals to attend and damage to repair.

Tomorrow, we would mourn our losses and strengthen our defenses.

Tomorrow, I would face my parents when they returned from Skywatcher's Point and tell them that their sixteen-year-old daughter had killed for the first time.

Tonight, though, I would cuddle my little dog and dream about a pair of dark eyes with molten gold swimming in their depths.

 

 

Chapter 2: Alar

   

   Present time.

The 21st Day of the Third Month

Year 11668 of the Dragon Pact

Year 3389 Post Division

"Truth without wisdom is a blade without a hilt; It is as dangerous to the bearers as it is to their foes."

—An Elurian proverb

Post-Division Era

 

"Look at this place, Alar," Codric said as we exited the transport. "I knew it would be big, but this is enormous."

I glanced at the Elucian port of entry as I paid the driver. "I have to admit that it's more impressive than I expected." I hefted my heavy backpack over my shoulders and stood next to my cousin to admire the awe-inspiring feat of engineering.

Carved into the base of the Elucian Mountains, the industrial-scale depot was hewn directly from the rock, the main terminal stretching as far as the eye could see.

"Nothing in Eluria can compare to this," Codric whispered as we passed through the weapon scanners.

I cast him an amused glance. "I wouldn't go that far."

Elucia was a tiny country with scant resources, the most precious among them being the dragon alliance. The exclusive pact gave Elucia the sole mastery over Aurorys's sky, something that the Elurian Federation envied and the Sitorian Union loathed.

The Sitorians had been attempting to wipe dragons and Elucians out of existence for thousands of years, their attacks often spearheaded by their most fanatical sect—the Shedun—but not always. The entirety of the Sitorian forces had taken part in the two major Extinction Wars, the second one almost succeeding in wiping out dragonkind.

Still, despite constant attempts to annihilate them and eradicate their dragons, Elucia survived in these nearly barren, barely habitable mountains, some would argue even thrived, thanks to their tenacity and ingenuity, and of course the dragon pact.

In most other respects, though, it was a backwater, poor country, especially when compared to our resource-rich, technologically advanced, and culturally forward Elurian Federation. 

Nevertheless, standing in front of this gargantuan complex, I had to agree with Codric. Elucia's ingenious transportation method and its scale equaled or even outdid many of Eluria's most celebrated technological achievements.  

Cables as thick as my thigh stretched out from the terminal into the mountain mists, carrying cars up to the main hub in the capital city, which was located far above the cloud cover.

Another network of cables handled cargo.

This transportation artery was the lifeline of an entire nation, shuttling people and goods to and from Elucia and serving the inhabitants of these inaccessible mountains.

The engineering required to maintain such a system was staggering, and the sheer size was intimidating, but other than flying on the back of a dragon, that was the only way to get into Elucia.

"This way." Codric tugged at my sleeve and pointed to a sign indicating security screening. "Remember to act like an excited pilgrim, but don't overdo it." He leaned closer and lowered his voice to a near whisper. "The secret to a successful deception is staying as close to the truth as possible, and that includes your demeanor. You are supposed to be a pampered merchant's son, excited about a chance of becoming a dragon rider."

I cast him a warm smile. "There is no need for acting. I am thrilled to be a pilgrim, and so are you. If Elurion so wishes, we will be granted the ultimate prize."

Codric and I had dreamt about riding dragons since we were little boys, but until recently it had been an impossible dream. Then we'd discovered that our great-great-grandmother had been Elucian, and that tiny bit of Elucian blood opened the possibility of joining the pilgrimage and learning whether we had what it took to become riders.

Our Elucian blood wasn't enough to qualify us, though, and given who we were, we would never have been admitted. But that hadn't been much of a deterrent given the resources available to me. I'd procured excellent forged paperwork, which had so far passed the scrutiny of the rigorous Elucian background checks, and, hopefully, our luck would hold through these last checkpoints as well.

I was nervous, and not just because I was worried about these final security checks uncovering something all the others had missed. 

The fake identity was not the only deception I was perpetrating, and I had other hidden agendas that Codric wasn't aware of. Keeping them to myself was necessary not because I didn't trust my cousin but because some of my plans were above his security clearance.

They were also so ambitious that they bordered on ludicrous.   

Well, if I cared to be perfectly honest with myself, I trusted Codric only to a certain degree. I loved him like a brother, but sometimes I couldn't help the niggling suspicion that he was just too damn charming to be genuine and too good of an actor to be sincere.

Then again, I was well aware that my father's paranoia might be rubbing off on me. His advice to trust no one had taken permanent residence in my head.

Codric cast me an amused look. “Try to loosen up and pull that stick out of your backside. You are a nobody here.”

I knew what he meant. I shouldn’t act formal and stiff. I was just another guy on his way to a pilgrimage. A nobody.

I loosened my shoulders and forced my facial muscles to relax. “Is that better?”

“Much.” Codric grinned, squeezing my shoulder. "We are both going to become riders. I feel it in my gut."

"From your mouth to Elu's ears, may it be true," I invoked the old Elucian adage.

Our religions had diverged over three thousand years ago, with the Two-Faced God Elu splitting his essence into two separate deities, Elurion and Elusitor. Elucians continued to worship the duality, and as an Elurian, I was supposed to believe only in the benevolent side of the divine. But I wasn't overly devout, and to me, Elu and Elurion were one and the same. As for Elusitor, well, that was another story. The Sitorians had taken the destructive side of Elu and twisted it into something it had never been meant to be.

The security checkpoint loomed ahead, and as we approached it, I tried to ignore the knot of anxiety in my stomach.

This was it.

After months of preparations, we were clearing Elucia's legendary security. Gaining entry to the country was just one more step in our long journey and far from being the last, but it was crucial, and we were about to find out just how good our backstories and fake documents were. Because if they were not good enough, at best we would be turned away, and I did not want to consider what would happen at worst.

"Stop fidgeting," Codric muttered under his breath. "You are drawing attention to yourself."

I shot him a glare. "I'm not fidgeting." I fisted my hands to stop whatever they were doing. "I'm an excited pilgrim, remember?"

Codric snorted. "You are supposed to look fierce and determined, not nervous."

My cousin was my best friend, but sometimes he could be an obnoxious and overbearing know-it-all. I itched for us to be on the sparring mat so I could take him down a notch.

I opened my mouth to rebut him, but I was interrupted by a booming voice cutting through the air.

"Next in line! Please step forward!"

Codric and I exchanged a quick glance before moving toward the security checkpoint. The Elucian guard, a burly man with a thick, reddish-blond beard and piercing blue eyes, regarded us with suspicion.

I reminded myself that it wasn't personal, and that he probably regarded all passengers the same way, Elucians and Elurians alike. Not that there were many Elurians about.

Codric and I were probably the only ones in the massive port today.

Elucians were suspicious of everyone, and for good reason. It hadn't even been a month since the last Shedun attack was thwarted in this very port of entry.   

"Papers," the guard grunted as he held out his hand, bringing us to a stop.

I fumbled in my pocket and produced the documents we'd spent months procuring and perfecting. Beside me, Codric handed over his own papers, a charming smile already in place.

Not that his charm worked on the guard. If anything, it made the creases in the guy's forehead deepen. His eyes narrowed as he scrutinized our documents, and I held my breath while schooling my expression into a well-practiced mask of bored indifference.

The documents approved by the Elucian embassy were all legit, but our identification papers had been doctored to hide our identities. They were as flawless and authentic as the real ones, but there was still a small chance that the Elucian Secret Service would manage to uncover the one tiny item that could expose the documents as the forgeries they were.

The guard looked over the papers and then gave us a thorough once-over. "What brings a couple of strapping Elurian lads like you to the pilgrimage?"

We were dressed as members of the Elurian affluent merchant class, which had been a deliberate decision on my part. Our accents and vocabulary indicated our level of education, and I wasn't as talented as Codric at mimicking the accents and vernacular of commoners.

"The dragons, of course," Codric said with a grin. "My cousin and I have been dreaming of becoming dragon riders since we were young boys." He leaned closer to the guard. "Not to mention our desire for the long life that comes with bonding with the magnificent beasts. That's just a small bonus, eh?"

It was the truth, at least part of it, so even if the guard had a sixth sense for detecting lies, he would find nothing questionable or objectionable in Codric's statement. The problem was his delivery.

Hadn't he learned anything about politics in all the years he had spent by my side?

As I'd expected, the guard's lips twisted in distaste, and I wanted to flick the back of Codric's head for blurting words before thinking.

"We are honored to be here, sir." I strived for a tone of polite enthusiasm. "The pilgrimage is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to visit beautiful Elucia and come face to face with its great shaman. Saphir Fatewever's name is whispered with awe all over Aurorys."

The guard lifted a brow. "I doubt the Sitorians whisper our shaman's name with awe. Hissing and spitting venom is more likely."

I chuckled. "They might hate him, but they fear him. After all, he chooses the riders."

The guard snorted. "Elu chooses the riders. The shaman is only a conduit for Elu's divine will."

"Of course," I said. "I pray that my cousin and I are chosen."

The guard grunted and shook his head. "Don't pray too hard, Elurian. Every pilgrimage we let a few of your kind join because we need riders, but do you know how many of you were chosen over the last forty years?"

"How many?" Codric asked even though we knew the answer to that.

"Zero." The guard made a circle with his thumb and finger. "The last time an Elurian became a rider was forty-two years ago." He leaned closer, his blue eyes full of cruel amusement. "He lasted less than a year before a Sitorian projectile knocked him off his dragon, splattering him on the rocks below."

I stifled an involuntary shiver. "You mean a Shedun's projectile."

The Sitorians considered Elucians and Elurians blasphemers for refusing to accept their corrupted version of Elusitor, but only the Shedun, the most extreme sect of Sitorian fanatics, instigated the never-ending slaughter attacks, mostly against Elucians, but sometimes also against Elurians. Our federation had suffered its share of death and destruction at the hands of these lunatics.

Still, my father and brothers dismissed the threat, regarding it as an occasional nuisance that they were willing to tolerate to avoid a large-scale conflict with the Sitorian Union.

The guard gave me a haughty look. "Learn your history, Elurian. Forty-one years ago, the two western territories of Sitoria, the Quarak and the Danak, attacked Elucia, hoping to conquer it once more and eradicate us and our dragons. We've barely managed to push them back into their swamps."

"I know history." I straightened my shoulders. "It was a coalition of two different sections of Shedun who attacked Elucia."

"Read a different history book, Elurian. Blessed are the seekers of truth, for they shall find Elu's radiant light within."

"Truth." I put three fingers to my lips in the Elucian form of affirmation.

The guard grunted his approval and motioned at our bags. "Take everything out and put it on the table."

We complied, and as I watched him rifle through our belongings, I wondered whether the history I had been taught and the news articles I had been consuming had been skewed because Eluria wanted to stay neutral and avoid conflict with Sitoria.

Contemporary Elurians were focused on material wealth and hedonistic pursuits. Most had forgotten their own savage past, the bloody wars that dotted it, and the empires that had risen and fallen before the rise of the current major powers, the Elurian Federation and the Sitorian Union. Two superpowers with the tiny enclave of Elucia wedged between them like a bothersome thorn. 

It was an uncomplimentary analogy, but it was apt.

Since Elurians wanted to stay out of the conflict between Elucians and Sitorians, it was very likely that the Elurian powers-that-be had knowingly and methodically painted Sitoria in a more positive light, blaming all of its follies on the deadly Shedun sect and propagating the manufactured narrative over decades through academia, books, and mass media.

After what felt like an eternity, the guard motioned for us to put everything back in our bags and returned our paperwork. "Good luck, lads."

I let out a breath even though there had been nothing in our belongings that could have given us away. We'd made sure of that.

Still, it was another hurdle cleared.

Codric and I gathered our bags and made our way to the next checkpoint. This one was operated by a tall woman with auburn hair that was pulled back in a severe bun. Despite her stern appearance, her expression was kind, and there was a hint of warmth in her brown eyes as she greeted us.

"Welcome to Elucia," she said. "I'm Irru, and I'll be conducting your final screening before you can board the transport."

Codric stepped forward, turning on the charm that had gotten us out of more than a few tight spots in the past. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Irru," he said, his voice smooth as honey. "I must say, your lovely visage is a welcome sight after such a long journey."

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Trust Codric to start flirting with a security guard. He was more likely to get us in trouble than to help us get through the checkpoint.

To my surprise, Irru's lips quirked up in a smile. "Flattery will get you nowhere, young man," she said, but there was no bite to her words. "Now, let's go over your documents one more time."

We handed her the papers, and as she began to review them, I studied her more closely. The efficiency of her movements and the sharpness of her gaze spoke of years of experience. Her easy charm was meant to put us at ease and make us less guarded, but she was not to be underestimated.

"So, Alar Tekum," Irru said, looking up from the documents, "tell me why you've chosen to undertake the pilgrimage. It's a hardship our youth must face, but why would outsiders volunteer for it?"

I cleared my throat, preparing to deliver the story we'd repeated countless times by now. "My cousin and I believe that we may have the gift. Our great-great-grandmother was Elucian."

Irru looked skeptical. "Your great-great-grandmother's blood has been greatly diluted over the generations, so even if she had been touched by Elu, it's doubtful that you two have the ability to bond with dragons. I'm surprised that your request to join the pilgrimage was approved."

She was right, of course.

I leaned forward. "Our Elucian blood might be diluted, but our passion for becoming dragon riders burns intensely in our veins. The guy who approved our request must have been impressed by our test scores and our desire to defend Elucia from its enemies."

He had also been impressed with our generous donation to the Elucian registry. They were trying to find descendants of exiled Elucians who had married Elurians, and the effort required funds.

Elucians were impossible to bribe, but they wouldn't say no to a legitimate contribution. In contrast, an Elurian clerk would have gleefully skimmed from the top to make his life a little more enjoyable in the lovely and costly capital of Eluria, and I would have gladly paid to make the process smoother.

Greasing the wheels made them move faster. But with Elucians, it was less likely to work. They adhered strictly to the Precepts of Truth and were much less flexible than Elurians. Not a good quality in my opinion.

As the saying went, truth without wisdom was like a blade without a hilt. It was as dangerous to the bearer as it was to the opponent.

"The pilgrimage itself is a once-in-a-lifetime spiritual experience," Codric said, having learned from our previous exchange with the other proud and rigid Elucian guard. "Even if we don't make the cut, just meeting the famous Elucian Shaman and hearing him declare our destinies is worth the great sacrifices we have made to get this far, as well as enduring the trek."

I nodded in agreement.

Irru seemed impressed, but not enough to just stamp our papers and let us through. "Tell me about your Elucian great-great-grandmother."

"Ah, now that's a tale." Codric leaned in conspiratorially. "Our great-great-grandfather was quite the ladies' man in his day, and he seduced an Elucian maiden that he met on one of his business trips."

As Codric spun his tale, embellishing the truth with just enough detail to make it believable, I marveled at his ability to captivate an audience. Irru tried to maintain her professional demeanor, but she couldn't hide her fascination with his animated storytelling.

"The maiden conceived, but our great-great-grandfather was a married man, and he couldn't leave his wife. The maiden could not raise the child on her own, so he offered to do so, and his wife, out of the kindness of her heart and her love for the scoundrel, adopted the girl," Codric finished with a flourish. "A scandal was averted, the family remained intact, and a drop of Elucian blood was introduced into our line."

Irru laughed. "That's certainly a colorful family history, provided that it is factual." She immediately looked embarrassed by her suggestion that Codric had lied, which would have been a great offense to an Elucian. "I suppose details tend to blur over time, and eventually, the story morphs so drastically that it becomes a mere echo of its original form."

"Oh, it is definitely true, and there is much more to it." Codric winked. "I could tell you stories that would make your hair curl."

"I'm sure you could," Irru said. "But I think I've heard enough for now."

She turned her attention to our documents, and after a few more moments of scrutiny, she looked up at us. "Everything seems to be in order." She reached for her stamp. "I wish you the best of luck. The pilgrimage is not for the faint of heart, and the trials you'll face will test you in ways you can't imagine."

"We're prepared for the challenge," I said.

Irru held my gaze for a long moment, as if searching for something in my eyes. Whatever she saw there must have satisfied her, and she lifted her stamp. "Very well." She brought it down on our papers with a satisfying thunk. "Welcome to Elucia. May Elu guide your steps and keep you safe."

"Thank you." I pocketed my papers.

As we turned toward the line for the cable car, Codric cast one last charming smile at Irru. "It's been a pleasure. Will we see you up top?"

Irru shook her head, but I could see the hint of a smile playing on her lips. "I'm stationed down here for a while longer, but I might see you on your way back." She waved her hand at the cable car. "Good luck, Codric. You too, Alar."

If she expected to see us again down here soon, she didn't believe we would become riders.

The Elucian military did not recruit Elurians other than for the Dragon Force, so if we didn't make it, we would be sent home.

The only reason some with proven Elucian ancestry were allowed to join the pilgrimage was the severe shortage of potential riders. The ability to communicate with dragons had always been rare, and after most Elucians had been massacred in the Second Extinction War and the survivors escaped to Eluria, it had almost died out.   

Codric and I were incredibly lucky to have even a sliver of a chance to become riders or unlucky in the opinion of far too many.

Dragon riders were admired and envied but also despised.

 

 

Chapter 3: Kailin

 

 

       Present time.

The 21st Day of the Third Month

Year 11668 of the Dragon Pact

Year 3389 Post Division

 

Five days until the pilgrimage.

Five days until my future will be determined by an ancient shaman in a secretive ceremony on top of Mount Hope.

Dear Elu, I'm not ready.

—From the journal of Kailin Strom

 

The view was magnificent from the observation ledge at the top of my practice trail, and I was tempted to sketch it even though my journal was filled with similar drawings.

In the end, I decided to skip it this time and returned the notebook to my backpack.

I was running out of pages, and with mere days left before the pilgrimage, starting a new journal seemed pointless. Instead, I stretched out my legs over the ledge, letting my feet dangle in empty air—an act of rebellion against the fear that still gripped me whenever I looked down.

I was making progress, but I was nowhere near where I needed to be.

At least I was ready physically, and the added reward for braving these traitorous trails each morning at sunrise was enjoying the breathtaking view, which was a perfect encapsulation of the wild beauty of Aurorys.

Jagged peaks rose like massive stone sentinels, their craggy silhouettes etched against the amethyst sky, their summits so tall that they seemed to pierce the heavens. The aurora's ethereal light danced across their snow-crowned heights, while below, sheer cliffs gave way to a wild tapestry of bare rock and the occasional glint of a waterfall.

Further down, the ocean stretched to the horizon, its dark waters crashing rhythmically against the base of the mountains. Foam-capped waves rolled in, breaking against rocky shores and casting mist high into the air, it too refracting the heavenly lights in a mesmerizing dance.

I could spend eternity gazing at the magnificence before me, but I had to get up and keep going. I really didn't want to move, though, and not just because I was enjoying the view.

The blisters on my feet were killing me, but the drakking pilgrimage-approved boots needed to be broken in, and I had only five more days to do so.

Dear Elu, only five days.

I took a deep breath to dispel the sudden onslaught of panic.

The physical challenge of the pilgrimage was considerable, which explained why no applicants older than twenty-five were permitted to participate, and there had even been fatalities over the years, but I didn't fear the trek, only the fate that awaited me at the summit.

Despite my valiant efforts to overcome my fear of heights, every time I closed my eyes and imagined myself on the back of a dragon, I felt faint and nauseous. 

I had been so proud when I had conquered my fear enough to brave the observation ledge, but it had been foolish pride. The ledge was barely a few feet above a gradual rocky incline, so even if I somehow stumbled and fell, I would only tumble a short way before coming to rest among the stones.

The ledge was hardly the death-defying perch I had built up in my mind.

My fear of heights defied logic. I wasn't a coward, and I did not fear losing my life, so I struggled to understand where it was coming from, especially given that I had already proven my mettle under fire.

I had faced Shedun at sixteen, had killed quite a few of them, had lived to tell the tale, and would do it again to protect my people, though I wasn't eager to repeat the experience.

I was not born a fighter.

Five years after the attack, I still had nightmares. Hells, the smells of sulfur and charred flesh were forever etched in my memory.

Still, even if there was a way to cure my phobia, and even if I could get accustomed to the smell of sulfur and burning flesh, dragon riders served for life, and I didn't want to spend mine killing.

Glory and adventure didn't motivate me.

I was an artist, and even though I hadn't been touched by greatness, I was probably good enough to make a decent living doing what I loved someday, and until then, I had my job at Gran's apothecary.

But the decision wasn't up to me.

It was up to Elu.

In moments of weakness, I toyed with the idea of not making it to the top of Mount Hope. Not everyone did. Some collapsed along the way and got taken down on a stretcher. There was no shame in that. But there was shame in not trying, and my drakking pride wouldn't let me quit without giving it all I had.

So here I was, once again on the trail, trudging up the narrow, steep path in my stiff hiking boots, training for the trek like I had been doing for the past four months every day at sunrise.

I should get up and start making my way down, but I could spend a few more minutes with the view that held me captive and allow my aching feet a little more time to rest.

Gran would understand if I was a little late this morning.

I was tempted to take off the boots, but I knew that once they were off, I wouldn't be able to put them back on, and walking down the trail in my socks wasn't an option.

When I got back home, I would soak them in a tub of warm water infused with healing herbs that Gran cultivated. It meant being even later for my shift at the apothecary, but schedule flexibility was the biggest advantage of working for family.

Imagining the relief, I smiled and let out a sigh, but then something passed in the periphery of my vision, and adrenaline shot through my body.

Drak! What was that?

I shifted my gaze in that direction, but I saw nothing other than the shimmering aurora.

Then I heard it.

The beat of massive wings preceded an ear-shattering roar, and for a brief moment, the primal sound paralyzed me, but then the need for self-preservation helped unlock my muscles, and I scrambled back, flattening myself against the rock face.

What was a dragon doing out here?

They never flew over this area.

Was it hunting? Could it mistake me for prey?

I didn't look like a sheep or a goat, and I wasn't wearing all black like the Shedun, but would the dragon notice these details from up high?

Not all dragons were bonded with riders, and the young ones might not differentiate yet between a human and another prey or between an Elucian and a Shedun.

I dove behind a boulder and clasped my hands over my head in a desperate, almost comical gesture, bracing for the inferno I feared would follow.

As icy tendrils of fear coursed through my veins, it dawned on me that neither my trembling hands nor the solid rock in front of me could protect me. In the blink of an eye, I'd be reduced to ash, my existence snuffed out faster than a thought could form.

My consciousness would be severed before my nerves would even register the agony of immolation.

A swift death, perhaps, but no less terrifying for its efficiency.

Another roar answered the first, and my terror intensified.

There were two of them.

There was nowhere for me to hide while the titans above my head engaged in their deadly dance, the beat of their wings reverberating thunderclaps in the aurora-lit sky. Even if they weren't actively hunting, a stray burst of flame or a miscalculated dive, and I would be collateral damage in their aerial ballet.

The irony wasn't lost on me.

Here I was, cowering in terror at the beasts' mere presence, only five days away from the pilgrimage that would determine if I had the gift that would allow me to bond with one of them.

A memory flashed through my mind of the enormous black dragon and its dark-eyed rider landing mere meters from my watchtower. I could still feel the ground shaking under those huge taloned legs and smell the scent of burning flesh. Remembering that moment sent a shiver down my spine that was mostly terror but also something else.

The rider had saluted me, thinking that I was brave, that I had fought off the Shedun attack because I was some kind of badass warrior, but I was neither of those things. I had fought that night because I had no choice and because the alternative had been more terrifying, but once it had been all over, I had nearly fallen apart, shaking like a leaf.

But I was an adult now, an Elucian about to embark on the pilgrimage, and I refused to cower.

"I am a dutiful follower of Elu, and I walk the path of truth," I chanted quietly. "My duty is to protect my people from those who seek our annihilation, and if I am fated to do that from the back of a dragon, I will not hide from my destiny."

Nevertheless, I hoped the shaman would realize that my skills would be better utilized in the mapping department or crunching numbers in procurement and supply. I was much better with drawing maps and devising charts than I was with flame-throwers or other instruments of war, rifles being the exception.

I was lethal with those.

Gritting my teeth, I lifted my head, lowered my hands, and looked up at the sky.

Only, there was nothing to see.

The dragons must have flown away to continue their fight beyond the western peak.

Releasing a relieved breath, I started to rise, when suddenly they burst through the curtain of a shimmering green aurora that appeared as if rising from the ocean surface far below.

I dropped back into a crouch, but this time, I kept my hands away from my head and looked on.

Breathing, though, seemed optional at the moment.

The larger one, an obsidian-scaled beast similar to the one who had landed in front of my watchtower on that fateful night, had a wingspan easily twice the size of my house and was most likely a male. Its rider was barely visible as he leaned into the turn and banked hard to the right.

A smaller, copper-hued dragon emerged right behind it, matching the maneuver with tendrils of smoke curling from its nostrils. Given the smaller size, it was probably a female. While the male dragons were larger and stronger, the dragonias were faster, more agile, and could climb to higher altitudes.

If the two were riderless, I would have assumed that they were engaged in a mating dance, but since both had riders, they were most likely training.

Suddenly, the dragonia surged forward, snapping at the male's tail. Its rider yanked on the reins, and the dragon responded instantly, twisting mid-air to face its pursuer. A jet of blue-white flame erupted from its maw, forcing the dragonia into a desperate dive.

That didn't look like training.

Were they fighting for real?

Dragons, as well as their riders, were fiercely competitive, and those games could take a deadly turn. Suddenly, I became much less concerned with my own safety and more with theirs.

Elucia couldn't afford to lose any dragons or riders, especially not to a training exercise. They were our best, and at times our only defense against the scourge.

When the awe-inspiring aerial dance continued, with the dragons weaving through the jagged peaks, ducking behind mountain spires, and emerging from banks of mist that clung to the rocky slopes, I allowed myself several breaths to calm my nerves.

They no longer looked like they were about to kill each other.

Abruptly, the male shot straight up, climbing so fast he became a dark streak against the pulsing auroras. The dragonia followed, determination evident in every beat of her powerful wings. Higher and higher they soared, until they were little more than specks against the sky.

Then, without warning, the obsidian dragon folded its wings and plummeted. He fell like a stone, gathering speed as he hurtled toward the churning ocean below. The dragonia hesitated for a split second, then dove after her rival.

"They're going to crash," I murmured, my nails digging into the palms of my hands.

At the last possible moment, the male's wings snapped open, and he pulled out of the dive mere meters above the waves, so close that I could see the spray kicked up by the wings' downdraft. The dragonia, caught off guard, couldn't pull up in time and plunged into the icy waters with a massive splash.

For a terrifying moment, I thought the fight had indeed turned deadly, but then she burst from the sea, water cascading from her scales, and her rider clinging to her back. She shook herself mid-air, looking for all the world like a disgruntled cat before letting out a reluctant cry of defeat.

The male circled her, both riders exchanging some sort of communication by gesturing with their hands, and then the dragons turned to fly toward the Citadel and the eyrie above it, their silhouettes dark against the ever-shifting ribbons of light.

I stood up, my legs shaky from the adrenaline rush.

In just five days, I would be making the perilous climb to meet the shaman and learn if I was destined for the sky.

To be chosen was the ultimate honor, but I beseeched Elu to be passed

 

Chapter 4: Alar

 

"Wise words might avert unnecessary bloodshed, but when words fail, strike without mercy and aim to win."

—Commander Darius Hawke, Elite Forces' Vedona Academy

As Codric and I made our way toward the back of the line, I took stock of the scene around us. The central depot was a hive of activity, with Elucians from all walks of life waiting to board the cable car that would take us over the steep mountains to the nerve center of Elucia—Podana, the capital city.

My gaze shifted to the looming mountains above. The slopes were steep, ragged, untamed by time, and their peaks were so tall that they disappeared in the clouds. There was a menacing quality to the entire mountain range, but also a primal beauty.

Somewhere up there, dragons soared through aurora painted skies.

"We are almost there," Codric murmured, his voice low enough so only I could hear him. "But I'll only start celebrating when we are seated in the cable car."

"I don't know if that's reason enough to celebrate," I said. "We managed to get here, but no amount of trickery and manipulation will help us become riders. We either have the gift or we don't."

Codric clapped a hand on my shoulder. "We have Elucian blood in our veins, cousin, even if it is heavily diluted."

I nodded. That part of the story hadn't been fabricated, but it was one of the reasons we had to hide our true identities. Our line was supposed to be purely Elurian and discovering that we had an ancient Elucian foremother had been a pleasant surprise for me, but not for my father.

Stumbling upon that story must have been the hand of fate.

"Look what we've got here," someone drawled behind us. "Spoiled rich Elurian whelps who think they can be dragon riders."

A chorus of laughter and jeers followed. 

I kept my face carefully neutral as I turned, though my muscles tensed instinctively. Four young men in grease-covered coveralls stood behind us in line, their stances threatening.

They looked to be in their late twenties or early thirties, so I knew that they weren't potential candidates for the Dragon Force, but they might still harbor resentment over not getting selected when it had been their turn on the summit of Mount Hope.

"We want to honor our Elucian ancestry by joining the pilgrimage," I said with as much calm as I could muster, pretending that nothing they had said offended me. "Of course, hearing our fates spoken by the famous Saphir Fatewever is the main attraction."

The largest of the four—a burly man with a shock of red hair—spat on the ground. "You hear that, men? These fancy lordlings think they have the same rights as us when their people abandoned the true ways of Elu."

Ah, so he was one of those. A religious purist who refused to accept the validity of the division of the Two-Faced God into two separate deities. 

Codric shifted slightly beside me, moving into a better defensive position while maintaining his casual demeanor. "We're all children of Elu," he said, flashing his diplomatic smile. "Surely there's no need for—"

That had been the wrong thing to say, and the small crowd that had gathered around us seemed to second my assessment. There were far too many angry faces staring at us. 

"Don't you dare invoke Elu," the short guy on the redhead's left snarled, stepping forward. "You Elurians wouldn't know true faith if it bit you in the—"

"Let's all calm down," I said, noting the two security guards who were watching from the sidelines but made no move to intervene. "We don't want any trouble."

Red-hair laughed harshly. "Too bad trouble wants you." He lunged forward, swinging a meaty fist at my head.

I'd been expecting it—his weight distribution telegraphing the move a split second before the attack. I stepped inside his reach, redirecting his momentum while sweeping out his legs. He hit the ground with a satisfying thud.

His friends didn't take kindly to that.

Two rushed Codric while the third came at me with a wild haymaker. My cousin handled his attackers with his usual grace, ducking under one punch while using his attacker's own force to send him stumbling into his companion.

My opponent was poorly trained but strong, his strikes fueled by anger and prejudice. I blocked his swing and countered with a quick jab to his solar plexus, driving the air from his lungs. As he doubled over, I hooked my foot behind his ankle and sent him tumbling down beside his red-haired friend.

"Stay down," I advised quietly. "This doesn't need to escalate any further."

Red-hair tried to surge up, but I placed my boot firmly on his chest. Not pressing, just reminding him of his position. Meanwhile, Codric had his two opponents effectively pinned, one in an arm lock and the other face-down with a knee to his back.

Only then did the security guards finally move in.

"That's enough entertainment for one morning," the taller guard said, his tone almost amused. He gestured to his partner, who began hauling the workers to their feet. "You four are charged with disturbing the peace. You know the penalty for that."

"They shouldn't be allowed in here!" Red-hair protested, wincing as he was handed a ticket.

"That's not for you to decide," the guard said while his partner handed the others similar notes. "Off you go. When you get to the top, march yourselves to the security office and show your tickets to the supervisor."

I'd never seen a brawl being handled like that. He was letting them go and trusting them to report to the security office on the other side?

His partner turned to us. "If you gentlemen would come with me, we need to take your statements."

As we followed him to a dingy office tucked into the side of the building, my frustration mounted. Once inside, I couldn't hold back any longer. "Why did you wait so long to intervene? You were watching the whole time, and you saw that they were harassing us. And why did you just let them go?"

The guard's lips twitched into a knowing smirk. "I wanted to see how you Elurian boys would handle yourselves." He shrugged. "Have to say, I'm impressed. That was some fancy fighting."

I clenched my jaw, stifling the impulse to demand to submit a formal complaint. In Eluria, the guards would have faced serious consequences. But we were visitors here, and if we made too much noise, we would be escorted out and not allowed to enter.

"That wasn't professional," Codric murmured.

The guard lifted a brow. "That depends on the objective." He pulled out a form and began filling it out. "You just proved what I had suspected."

I tensed. "And what's that?"

"That you're more than just a couple of soft merchants' sons dreaming of becoming dragon riders." He stamped the form and handed it to us. "This will get you access to the express line." He smiled. "For your trouble."

What the hells?

If he suspected us of not being who we seemed to be, why was he giving us access to the express line? Was this some kind of a joke, and we would get arrested when we got to the other side?

"Thank you." Codric reached for the form.

"Good luck," the guard said.

As we walked toward the shortest line, Codric bumped my shoulder. "Hey, at least we got to skip the queue."

"Don't you find the whole thing suspicious?"

He shrugged. "So, they wanted to test us. So what? We passed."

I shook my head. "The question is why they felt the need to do that. Something about us must have raised their suspicions, but then why did they still allow us to continue?"

"Elucians are strange people," Codric whispered. "We expected unconventional methods of interrogation, and we were right. I think they sent those guys to goad us on purpose to see how we would respond."

The whole episode made me uneasy, but I still couldn't figure out what the guards' objective had been.

The line continued to move, and soon we found ourselves at the front.

Stepping inside the car, I was caught up in Codric's enthusiasm and felt a thrill of anticipation.

This was it. We were in.

We entered along with a group of other passengers and took our seats. As the doors closed with a satisfying hiss, the car lurched, accelerated, and we began the ascent.

Chapter 5: Kailin

 

Two dragons in one morning is more than I've ever seen around here before, but it isn't just fear I feel when their roars echo off the mountains. It's awe at their raw power, and I wonder if they sense something we don't or if they're watching us as well.

—From the journal of Kailin Strom

 

As I rushed into the classroom, my books tucked under my arm and a cup of caff clasped in my hand, Shovia regarded me with an amused expression on her face. "Gran keep you in the apothecary?" she asked when I took my seat next to her.

"I was late to work." I placed my books on the desk. "My feet hurt so badly after the trek this morning that I had to soak them before starting my shift. Normally, that wouldn't have been a problem, but with all the pilgrims arriving at Skywatcher's Point, the apothecary is busier than usual."

Shovia leaned back in her chair. "I thought you were done with training. You were supposed to stop a week before the pilgrimage to give your body a chance to rest and replenish its stores."

Since there would be no food during the climb and water would be rationed, it would have been best to take it easy, but my plans had to change after we'd been given our equipment for the pilgrimage.

"I would be done if not for the drakking boots. I'm still trying to break them in." I took a sip of my cold caff. "Why do they make us all wear the same stuff?"

"Humility and equality," Shovia quoted. "All pilgrims are assigned the same equipment. It is our tenacity that gets tested, not our ability to purchase the best equipment to help us on the trek."

"Yeah, yeah, I know." I rolled my eyes. "So no one has an unfair advantage, but that's the epitome of hypocrisy. The whole thing is about finding the few chosen ones who can communicate with dragons. There is nothing humble or equal about that."

For a moment, Shovia seemed lost for words, which didn't happen often. My best friend might not excel at academics, but she had a sharp tongue and life smarts to animate it.

"For the rest of us it is," she finally said. "The pilgrimage is a bonding experience, and it prepares us for our military service. It's not just about identifying a fresh crop of dragon riders."

She was right, of course.

Supposedly, the pilgrimage wasn't a competition. The goal was to make it to the summit, get one's destiny revealed by the shaman, and come down ready for service.

At least that was the official version. Rumors claimed that pilgrims were watched, and that their performance on the trek was taken into consideration when final assignments were determined.

I took a sip from my cold brew. "You should have joined me. You know that we will also be evaluated on our performance."

Between the two of us, Shovia was no doubt the better athlete. Her father was the coach at our old school, and he had made sure his daughter excelled at sports and aced all the fitness tests.

I, on the other hand, had done poorly on most of them, with rope climbing being my absolute worst.

Still, despite my failure to meet the qualifying minimum in this event, Coach Emil had given me a passing grade and allowed me to graduate, either because I had been an exceptional student in all the academic subjects or, what was more likely, because I was Shovia's best friend.

She chuckled. "Even with all your training, you'll still need me to drag you up the mountain to the summit."

"I'm much better now than I was four months ago, and I won't need your help."

Shovia was still smirking, which was annoying. "I love you, and I wish you the best of luck, but just in case you need help to finish the pilgrimage, I want you to know that I will not leave you behind for the medics to evacuate even if I have to carry you on my back the rest of the way."

I knew that it wasn't an empty promise. Shovia wouldn't leave me behind even if she had to crawl to the finish line with me on her back. But I was a perfectly healthy twenty-one-year-old woman, and there was no reason for me not to make it to the summit on my own.

"I appreciate the sentiment," I said. "With all my heart. But don't worry. I will make it on my own two feet." I leaned over and kissed Shovia's cheek. "And I promise that I will not be the last to arrive. I won't be the first either. You, on the other hand, will probably be in the lead without even breaking a sweat." 

Shovia regarded me with a serious expression on her face. "That's not how it works. We are divided into groups, and we can't overtake those ahead of us unless there is a good reason for it. The real enemy is the thin air and the hallucinations it induces, and how we deal with it will factor heavily into how we are judged. I'm pretty good with high altitudes, but I still have a zero chance of becoming a dragon rider. Not that I want to. You know which post I want."

I grimaced. "Spying's even more dangerous than dragon riding, and there is no guarantee the Spy Corps is the destiny that fate has in store for you."

Even though everyone had to serve, and women could theoretically be assigned to any arm of the force, Elu rarely chose combat assignments for women, probably because of the brutality and barbarism of our enemies. There were plenty of other jobs we could do that were no less important.

The two exceptions were dragon riders and spies, and the reasons for the exceptions were simple.

Dragon riders were rare, and good dragon riders were even rarer. If a woman could bond with a dragon, she was a rider. Besides, if she fell off a dragon or the dragon was hit and they both went down, there was no surviving that, and there would be nothing left of her for the monsters to violate.

As for spies, women made the best ones because Sitorians were dismissive of females, and they notoriously underestimated them. 

"I know it's dangerous." Shovia assumed a dreamy expression. "But it's exciting, and I will get to see the world."

"What is there to see? Nothing is better than this." I waved my hand at the window. "We live in the most spectacular place in all of Aurorys."

Shovia turned to look at the view. "It's beautiful, but that's all I have seen since I was born. I want to see so much more."

Did she think it was a game?

"It's not safe for Elucians out there." I tried another angle.

I didn't want to lose my best friend, even if it was temporarily, when she was gallivanting around the world on assignments.

Shovia snorted. "As if riding a dragon over these cliffs and fighting off murderous hordes of monsters is safe."

"I'm not going to get selected, but speaking of dragons—" I intended to tell Shovia about my encounter with the two this morning, when our instructor flounced into the room with a whoosh of billowing skirts.

"Good afternoon, class," she chirped. "Are you looking forward to another fascinating lesson about the wonders of Aurorys?"

The woman was much too chirpy most days, and today her high-pitched voice exacerbated the slight headache I'd been nursing since the excitement with the dragons earlier.

I tuned her out.

I didn't need a comprehensive refresher to pass the last test before the pilgrimage. I still remembered everything I had learned about the physics of our planet, and I had my books to look up anything I was iffy on.

Instead, I turned to look out the windows.

Skywatcher's modest academy building enjoyed one of the most spectacular views of Elucia. It was nestled on a narrow ledge carved into the side of a towering mountain, and the builders had incorporated large windows into the classrooms, saving the students from the boredom inside by providing them with a magnificent view of the rugged landscape outside.

Raw, untamed mountains jutted out of a vast ocean, while curtains of ethereal light danced across the sky, their colors shifting from deep greens to vibrant purples with streaks of red and blue weaving through the display.

Shadow and light played across the faces of the mountains, revealing and concealing their features in a constant, subtle flux.

In the distance, I could make out the faint silhouette of a dragon and rider gliding through the sky, a dark shape gracefully navigating the rivers of light. They moved in perfect harmony with the shifting magnetic currents—the ultimate conquerors of our world.

Was it one of the two I had encountered on the trail?

I had assumed that they had strayed from their training quadrants in the heat of battle, but seeing another dragon sailing through the sky over our area caused me to reassess that conclusion.

The Citadel and the aviary were not far from Skywatcher's Point, but it wasn't often that dragons flew over the town. Their training grounds were on the other side of the Citadel, and to see three of them in one morning was alarming. 

As I considered possible reasons for their presence, dread pooled in the pit of my stomach.

Had worm tunnels been discovered nearby?

Were the dragons patrolling the area?

I shuddered as I imagined the vile demonic creatures pouring out of a tunnel dug out by one of their enormous worms. That was how they managed to sneak up on our villages unseen. The mountainous terrain of Elucia was impossible to infiltrate with a substantial ground force. There was only one port where people and merchandise were transported up from the valley, and it was extremely well guarded. No one we didn't want to let into Elucia could cross into our country through the official route.

The alternatives were either to fly over or to tunnel up.

Only Elucians could ride dragons, so that left the tunnels, which were dug out by the Sitorians' giant worms. They were as exclusive to them as dragons were to the Elucians, but unlike the dragons, the worms had no say in what they were forced to do. They were dumb creatures, enslaved and controlled by the Shedun.

I watched as the dragon twisted and dove through the air. As it got closer, I could see that it was black, but I wasn't sure it was the same one I had seen earlier. The rider leaned low, appearing as one with the beast's sinuous neck.

They plunged toward the ocean, pulling up at the very last instant. I recognized the maneuver. It was definitely the same one I had seen before.

The dragon twisted mid-air, jaws opening wide, and released a thunderous roar that echoed off the mountain's face and rattled the windows of the academy.

It wasn't a warning cry.

It was a victory roar.

I let out a shaky breath, my pulse slowly returning to normal as I watched the dragon glide away and disappear beyond the eastern peaks. Most likely, it had just been another practice run, but if there had been danger, it had been dealt with, and we were safe.

Still, three dragon sightings in one morning?

Danger must be close, even if we didn't realize it yet.

 

Chapter 6: Alar

 

"The confidential information your allies keep from you may be the key to defeating your enemies. Pursue it and leverage it to your advantage."

—Commander Brusdick Gorlin, Elite Forces' Vedona Academy

Through the open window, I watched as the ground fell away beneath us, the enormous Elucian port of entry growing smaller and smaller until it was nothing more than a speck in the sprawling landscape below.

As we climbed higher, the world around us transformed. The vegetation changed, becoming sparse and hardy. And above us, the ribbons of light—green, purple, and blue—shimmered and swayed in a celestial ballet that now seemed almost close enough to touch.

"Would you look at that," Codric said, the awe in his voice reflecting my own. "The auroras are even more spectacular up close."

I couldn't look away. It was beautiful, alien, and unnerving.

Auroras could be seen from almost anywhere on Aurorys, but the sky seen from the flats of Eluria paled in comparison to this magnificence.

As the car swayed and climbed, the world below shrinking, I couldn't help but think about the structural integrity of the cable it was suspended from.

Next to me, Codric chuckled. "Stop worrying, Alar. We are not going to plummet to our deaths."

"Why would I worry?" I kept my sarcastic reply low for the sake of the other passengers. "We are only hanging from a cable thousands of feet above the ground."

"I knew it." He shook his head. "I saw you frowning at the cable before we boarded the car, checking out the bolts. You always pay attention to the smallest details and fret about their construction and how sound their maintenance is."

"Of course I do. Maintenance is done by humans, and if things don't get routinely inspected, people begin to slack off, and malfunctions happen. In the case of a cable car, a malfunction means death. We are trusting our lives to the work ethic of greasy fellows like the ones who attacked us."

He put his arm around my shoulders. "This is the only access to Elucia, save for on the back of a dragon or following a burrowing worm. Do you really think they would let it fall into disrepair?"

He had a point, but I wasn't ready to concede. "The Elucians are so focused on security that they might overlook maintenance and upkeep issues."

Travel in and out of Elucia was restricted, so the cable car rail was mostly used for bringing in merchandise and for transporting export goods. Shuttling passengers was secondary. Still, enough people sat in those cars every day for the rail to be a target for their enemies.

Dragon patrols were supposedly stationed along the way, guarding the rail, but I had seen none so far. In fact, I had never seen a dragon in person, only in films and photographs, and I couldn't wait for my first glimpse of one. Even if I didn't become a rider, seeing a dragon up close was almost worth the international scandal Codric and I were risking by sneaking into Elucia with fake identities.

Hells, a scandal was the least of my worries. It could get much worse.

After a while, I gave up on trying to spot dragons and turned my attention to the chatter around me. The lilting accents of the Elucians created a melodic backdrop to our ascent, and if I concentrated, I could catch snippets of conversations and glean more insight into the world I was entering.

"...the Shedun scum are relentless," said the guy sitting across the center aisle from us.

He was holding up an Elucian newspaper in front of his face, so all I could see was a portion of his profile.

"Any casualties?" the woman sitting next to him asked anxiously.

"Thank Elu, they were spotted in time." The guy folded his newspaper and put it on his lap. "They came through multiple tunnels simultaneously. Those drakking worms, burrowing up through our mountains like they were nothing but giant anthills. There was no way the defenders could reach the village in time."

The woman gasped. "Then how did they manage to avoid casualties?"

I leaned in, trying to appear casual as I listened more intently.

"The civilian patrols stopped them," the guy said. "They detected seismic activity and sounded the alarm. The civilians fought them off, holding the line until the riders arrived. The dragons roasted some of the vermin, but the rest managed to retreat into the tunnels and collapse them as they slid back down the shafts."

"Thank Elu it ended like that," the woman said. "It could have been another disaster."

"Indeed," he agreed, some of the tension leaving his shoulders.

"How much more of this can we endure?" she whispered. "When will it end?"

"I don't know," he said. "I don't know why Elu cursed us to live surrounded by those demon worshipers."

"Shush, Bendor." She put her fingers on his lips. "That's blasphemy. Some truths are known only to Elu."  

Bendor didn't seem to agree, but he said nothing, probably choosing to avoid a theological argument with his companion.

A wise man. 

"Hello." I turned to them. "I couldn't help but overhear your conversation. We've heard rumors about the Shedun in Eluria, but it seems to me that our media doesn't paint the full picture."

"No, it doesn't." The guy looked Codric and me over with suspicion in his eyes. "Pilgrims?"

I nodded. "My name is Alar, and this is my cousin Codric. We have a tiny bit of Elucian blood, so we decided to honor our distant Elucian ancestor and join the pilgrimage."

"I'm Bendor." He extended his hand. "And this is my sister Mira."

We all shook hands, and Codric flashed Mira one of his charming smiles. 

"What else did your newspaper say about the raid?" Codric asked.

"Two nights ago, the civilian watch in one of the western villages, Marvaila, detected unusual seismic activity. Nothing too alarming at first—living in the mountains, you get used to the occasional tremor. But when the sensors detected activity at multiple points of origin, all converging on their village, they knew that something big was up."

This was far more detailed than what the Elurian media ever reported. Most Elurians didn't care about what was happening to the Elucians. After all, they had dragons on their side, so they could deal with the Shedun on their own.

Shockingly, some even sided with the monsters.

Irrational envy over the dragon pact and access to immortality for the select few was the breeding ground of hate.

"By the time the civilian watch realized what was happening, it was almost too late," Bendor continued. "The worms burst through at three locations, and the Shedun poured out like demons from the depths of hell."

"How can civilians manage to fight them off?" I asked.

I couldn't imagine Elurian civilians doing anything other than screaming and running for their lives, but by all accounts, the Elucians were made from hardier stuff.

"With everything they got," Mira said, her eyes flashing with anger. "Every Elucian is trained from childhood to defend our communities, and we all serve a minimum of four years in the Elucian Forces, with some of us serving much longer than that."

"We owe our existence to the dragons, Mira," Bendor said. "Without them, we would have perished already even if every Elucian fought to their last breath." He turned to us with a feral smile on his weathered face. "You should see the dragons at work. When they rain fire on the demons, the sky lights up brighter than the auroras, and the Shedun screech like the vermin they are as they try to outrun the inferno."

I shuddered, torn between awe at the power of the dragons and horror at the vivid description of destruction. Beside me, Codric's face had gone pale.

Mira sighed. "Despite our best efforts to preserve and nurture the dragon population, there are still not enough of them, and they can't be everywhere at once, but there is an endless supply of Shedun. Kill one horde, and two more pop up. We drive them back, and they return, over and over again."

Codric shook his head. "The reports we get barely scratch the surface."

What we thought we knew about the situation in Elucia seemed deficient, but that was one of the many reasons I was here.

As I'd suspected, the Shedun threat was far greater than what the Elurian council was led to believe, and the Elucians were fighting a constant battle for survival. My fear was that they wouldn't hold off the hordes forever, and once Elucia fell again, the Sitorians would turn on Eluria.

The Elurian council believed in the myth that the Shedun didn't represent Sitoria, and that they would never escalate their terror attacks into a full-on war again, but the truth was that they were fully supported by the majority of the Sitorians, who filled the Shedun ranks with a never-ending supply of young men eager to die for their god.

Others believed that if the Shedun were allowed to exterminate the dragons once and for all, they would stop their never-ending attacks on Elucia, but that was another fallacy perpetrated by the ignorant who didn't bother to actually educate themselves about the Sitorians and what their clearly stated end goal was—dominion over all of Aurorys.

The dragons were simply the largest hurdle in their way.

As a heavy silence fell over our group, I glanced out the window, and the auroras suddenly seemed cold and distant. How could the Elucians live that way?

Was this land's beauty really worth such horrors?

They could leave the dragons to fight the war against the Shedun and relocate to Eluria, where they could live in peace, but the ugly truth was that the Elurian leadership was happy to aid Elucians in their never-ending fight by supplying them with weapons, so they would keep the Shedun occupied and weakened.

The Elucians might have been nearly wiped out of existence during the two Extinction Wars, but they had fought ferociously, and even though the Sitorians won, their armies had been left in tatters and incapable of marching against Eluria. By the time they'd recovered and rebuilt, so had the Elucians, and the cycle had started anew.

As the cable car began to slow, the outlines of Podana, the Elucian capital, grew clearer.

Unlike the large Elurian metropolises, which housed millions in high-rise buildings made of metal and concrete, Podana was modest in both size and architecture. The capital sprawled across multiple levels of rugged mountainside, its older buildings made of local stone and the newer ones from a combination of stone and timber. The city seemed to grow organically from the rock face, with narrow, winding streets connecting the different levels.

Most buildings were low-rise, rarely exceeding three stories in height, and had steep, slanted roofs, indicative of the heavy snowfalls at these elevations. The walls were substantial, built to insulate against the cold mountain air, and many were whitewashed, reflecting what sunlight made it through the near-constant auroras. Others maintained the natural grays and browns of their building materials.

"In the pictures, Podana looked much grander than this." I waved a hand at the window. "I guess it was photographed from more flattering angles."

Codric nodded. "It looks like a village that grew into a city over time."

"That's exactly what happened," Bendor said. "Podana was one of the first communities the returning Elucians established, and we continued from there."

"Was there nothing left from before?" I asked.

He shook his head. "The predecessors of today's Shedun demolished every last building and fed the ruins to their worms to grind into dust. They wanted to ensure that our culture was erased from the face of Aurorys. There was nearly nothing left except for the ruined remains of the Citadel and Elu's temple." He leaned closer, his lips curving in a wry smile. "Thank Elu that our shamans managed to save some of the dragon eggs. They hid them so well that the demons couldn't find them even though they searched every cave and nook in these mountains for centuries."

Theirs was such a sad history, and it was a miracle that any of those long-ago Elucians managed to escape and find refuge in Eluria. The dragon eggs that had remained hidden and survived for over a millennium were an even bigger miracle.

Some believed that they had been obscured by magic, but that was superstitious nonsense that ignorant people with no understanding of science believed in. The problem was that there were enough of them to give the rumor wings.

The reality was that if not for the resourcefulness and sacrifice of the Elucian shamans, the magnificent creatures would have gone extinct. Most shamans hadn't survived, and the eggs they had hidden had either been destroyed or still remained in hiding. Only one shaman still lived, Saphir Fatewever, and the eggs he'd managed to shield and later hatch had been enough to revive dragonkind.

A miracle to some. A plague to others.

As we drew closer, I could make out more details. Small gardens were tucked into whatever spaces could be found, bursts of green amid the stone and wood. Waterfalls created by melting snow cascaded down the rock face, their spray catching the light and creating miniature rainbows. And everywhere, people went about their daily lives, tiny figures going about their business in this city in the sky.

"Look there," Codric pointed. "That's the famous Podana Academy."

I followed his gaze to a large structure near the heart of the city. While grander than the surrounding buildings, it was still built primarily of local stone and sprawled over several terraces.

"Indeed, it is," Mira confirmed. "The pride of Podana, where our brightest minds study and our scientists come up with wondrous new inventions in every imaginable field."

Her claim was a little boastful, but given how tiny the Elucian population was, their contribution to the sciences was impressive.

The Elucians revered learning, but the truth was that not many could afford to study in the academy, not because tuition was costly but because they needed to work to support themselves and their families. Most of the students depended on grants from the Elurian Federation, which financed a lot of the research in exchange for sharing the fruits of their labor.

In another life, perhaps I could have studied there, learning the secrets of Aurorys alongside the Elucian scholars. But that wasn't my path. I had a different mission, a different destiny to fulfill.

The cable car began to slow as we approached the central depot, which was a bustling hub of activity carved into the mountainside like the rest of the city.

Bendor stood, stretching his long limbs. "Good luck on your pilgrimage. May Elu guide your steps and lift your spirits."

After saying goodbye to Bendor and Mira, we disembarked and followed the throng of people into the depot. The cacophony of sounds and the press of bodies around us reminded me of the central transportation hubs back home, and the feeling of otherness that I'd been cultivating since our arrival at the foot of the mountains started to abate.

Elucians weren't all that different from Elurians when they were safe among their own and protected by walls and dragons.

"Come on," Codric said, tugging at my arm. "We need to find transportation to Skywatcher's Point."

Following the signs, we walked out to where a fleet of hover-cars was waiting for passengers and joined the line behind those who had arrived before us.

An attendant approached us with a friendly smile. "Where to, gentlemen?"

"We need to get to Skywatcher's Point," I said.

The attendant's smile broadened. "Pilgrims, eh? Well, you're in luck. Torvan here is your guy," he waved to a grizzled man leaning against one of the hover-cars. "The standard fee is a hundred lumen, and a tip is expected once you reach your destination."

"Who should we pay?" Codric asked. "You or the driver?"

"Either one is fine. You can pay Torvan directly, and he will forward the depot's fee later."

I had no doubt that he would. Elucians adhered strictly to the original principles of Truth laid down by Elu, and those left no room for cheating or even skimming a little from the top. Elurians followed the same Truths, but we were much less strict in the way we interpreted the original writings, which I was thankful for.

Without any wiggle room, Codric and I wouldn't be on our way to join the pilgrimage.

Torvan straightened, his weathered face breaking into a crooked grin. "So, you boys are here for the pilgrimage, eh? Hop in. I'll get you to Skywatcher's Point safe and sound and give you a tour of our beautiful countryside as a bonus, free of charge."

"Thank you." I pulled out my wallet, intending to pay him, but he stayed my hand.

"You pay when we get there. Not before." He opened the back door for us.

The interior of the hover-car was a little worn, but it was clean and smelled good, and two sealed water bottles rested in holders next to each seat.

"These are for you lads, and if you want to stop for a bite to eat, I can take you to a good eatery and wait until you are done."

"We are fine," I said despite Codric's hopeful expression. "We'll eat when we get to Skywatcher's Point."

"Very well." Torvan pulled out from the line of hover-cars. "The Pilgrims' Lodge has an eatery that is open at all times, but the selection is limited. You won't find any Elurian delicacies there."

"Are there any other eateries you can recommend?" Codric asked.

"Plenty." As the vehicle glided smoothly out of the depot, Torvan launched into a long sales pitch about every eatery in Skywatcher's Point. All five of them. 

"So, what made you travel all the way to our remote country in the sky?" Torvan asked as we wound our way through the outskirts of Podana.

"Alar and I were always fascinated by dragons, and then we discovered that our great-great-grandmother was Elucian." Codric smiled at the driver who was watching us through the rear-view mirror. "After that, there was no stopping us. We had to join the pilgrimage."

Torvan nodded approvingly. "Good for you. Not many Elurians make the pilgrimage these days. Too scared of the Shedun attacking, I reckon."

Frankly, the Shedun hadn't even crossed our minds when we'd decided to go on this adventure. Not that knowing about the clear and present dangers these people faced would have changed our minds. We were determined to do whatever it took to become dragon riders.

"What's it like?" Codric asked. "Living here seems tough."

"You can say that again." Torvan laughed, a deep, rumbling sound. "It's not easy, but it makes us a family. We all care for one another because there is no one else who does."

I felt offended on behalf of every Elurian who had ever aided Elucians.

"That's not true," I said. "Elurians care. Your people found refuge among us, and when you decided to reclaim your ancestral lands, the Elurian Federation helped."

Without us, the Shedun would have probably wiped them out of existence the moment they returned to these mountains. Eluria armed the returning Elucians and provided backup.

"Truth," Torvan said. "Elucia owes Eluria a debt of gratitude, but now we are on our own and take care of each other. We deal with our enemies." He turned to look at us. "We keep the Shedun busy so they don't turn their attention to you."

I nodded because he was right, and I would not offend an Elucian by parroting the half-truths printed in Elurian newspapers. There were advantages and disadvantages to our loosened adherence to the truth and our more moderate interpretation of Elurion's dictates. That being said, according to Elucian scholars, abandoning the path of absolute truth would eventually lead to Eluria's downfall, but it hadn't happened yet, and our society was successful and prosperous, so I didn't expect it to fall apart anytime soon. 

Then again, abandoning the path of truth was part of turning a blind eye to what was happening with the Sitorian Union and their global domination ambitions.

As we left the city behind, the landscape became more rugged with jagged peaks stretching as far as the eye could see, their snow-capped summits disappearing into banks of clouds. Forests of hardy pines clung to the lower slopes, giving way to bare rock and ice higher up.

"Do you see that one over there?" Torvan pointed to a distant peak. "That's Mount Fury. That's where the first riders made their pact with the dragons."

The thought of those first riders forging a bond that would shape the destiny of an entire nation filled me with awe and a bit of longing.

Those riders were legendary, their names forever etched into the fabric of Aurorys's history.

 

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