Sky Riders: The Rising Sun

The fields surrounding Amiscan were filled with soldiers, each of them engaged in various forms of training—archery, sword play, magic, and even hand-to-hand combat. Eliana approached slowly, unsure of what she was expected to do. Caelum had not appeared this morning to give her any instructions; she had not seen him since his sudden disappearance the night before.

After waiting for him for nearly an hour, she had dressed in the green-and-brown uniform of the army and set out to train on her own. She had her quiver of gold-and-white-fletched arrows across her back. Her sword rested against her hip, and she clutched her black mahogany bow in her right hand. A few soldiers glanced towards her as they approached, obviously curious, but they did not stop what they were doing, and none of their faces looked familiar.

“Eliana!” a voice called.

She looked towards the sound and sighed with relief to see a familiar face approaching her. He grinned childishly and waved. She waved back with a small smile of her own as he trotted towards her.

“Hello, Iocus,” she said when the blonde elf reached her.

“What training are you doing today?” he asked.

She shrugged. “I don’t know. Nobody told me what I should do.”

Iocus laughed at her obvious naiveté. “That’s because you decide what to work on. The soldiers know best where there weaknesses lie, and they train according to their own needs. So, what do you most need to work on?”

She glanced around the field at the various types of activities. Her eyes paused on the few pairs of elves that sparred without weapons. They moved quickly and fluidly, looking more like dancers than fighters, striking and blocking with fists and feet. She nodded in their direction. “Well, I’ve never done that before.”

“Perfect!” Iocus said with a smile. He placed a hand low on her back and guided her firmly towards the end of the field where the weaponless elves sparred. As they drew near the group, Iocus spotted a figure sitting outside the group, restringing a bow. “Raena!” he called.

Eliana’s heart dropped into her stomach as the blonde woman turned to face them. Hatred immediately filled Raena’s blue eyes. She set down the bow she’d been fixing and stood, turning towards them and crossing her arms angrily over her chest.

“Yes?” she asked in a short, sharp voice.

“Eliana need a sparring partner,” Iocus answered, pressing the Rider forward with his hand on her back. “She wants to practice hand-to-hand.”

There was a brief pause, then a malicious smile played over Raena’s thin lips. “It would be my honor,” she said in a poisonously sweet voice, and she gave an exaggerated bow.

“Wonderful!” Iocus patted Eliana lightly on the shoulder. “Good luck, Eliana! I should get back to the sword field. My sparring partner is waiting on me.”

With that, he turned and jogged away, leaving Eliana at Raena’s mercy. The Rider swallowed, wishing she hadn’t sent Oriens out hunting in the mountains that morning. She reached out to him with her mind, but he had moved beyond her mental reach. She was entirely alone with the one elf who hated her more than any other.

“Well,” she said with the same mocking grin on her face. “Shall we begin, oh great and wonderful Rider?”

The bitter sarcasm in her voice inflamed Eliana’s anger, and the word leapt from her lips before she was able to stop it. “Yes,” she answered tersely.

Eliana dropped her sword, bow, and quiver, and stepped out into the open space. Raena began to circle her, her movements catlike. She tried to follow the elf, rotating as well, waiting for her to strike. There was something feral in those blue eyes, and Eliana felt certain this would not be a training session—this was going to be a personal grudge match. Raena would spill every last drop of her blood if she got the chance.

Suddenly, Raena rushed forward, faster than Eliana had anticipated. She felt the blow to her head before she ever saw it coming, and she stumbled backwards, spinning towards her attacker again. She was already upon her again, and Eliana raised her arms quickly, managing to deflect the kick Raena aimed at her face.

Raena took a quick step backwards, snarling silently, recalculating her approach. Eliana didn’t wait for her to decide. She rushed towards the elf, letting her hatred for the woman course through her. She lashed out with one closed fist, then the other, throwing half a dozen blows. Raena blocked them all easily, her lips turning up into a smug grin as she did so.

As Eliana tried to strike again, Raena caught her wrist. She swung with the other hand, but the elf caught that one as well. With a shout, Raena shoved backwards with all her strength, and Eliana was sent flying backwards. The earth knocked the wind from her chest, and she tumbled over herself before springing back to her feet.

But Raena was still quicker. No sooner had Eliana reached her feet than the elf swung out with one leg. Her booted foot struck the Rider in the side of the face. She felt blood beginning to pour from her mouth almost immediately. She fell back to the earth, her head spinning, pressing her fingers to her split, tender lip.

Raena knelt beside her, gripping the front of Eliana’s tunic. She pulled on it, lifting the Rider’s torso from the ground; she was stronger than she appeared. She leaned in, her lovely face close to Eliana’s bloody, dirty one.

“Well, well,” she whispered. The fingers of her other hand touched the blood at the corner of Eliana’s mouth, and she looked at it for a moment before wiping it on the Rider’s tunic. “Your blood looks just as filthy as I thought it would.”

The familiar fury flamed up inside of Eliana, fueled by years of taunts and torments from every villager in Vegrandis. She placed a hand on Raena’s chest, shoving her away with all of her strength and rage. A powerful current of wind burst from her hand, unbidden, and sent Raena arching through the air. She landed several feet away, striking the grass with a dull thudding sound.

The elves in the field had stopped their training and were now gathering in a loose circle, watching in fascination. Raena lay still for a moment, evidently shocked. She was still just long enough for Eliana to begin to worry that she’d actually injured her. Then she began struggling to her feet, snarling like a wild animal. She looked positively rabid as she started towards the Rider, who had risen to her feet as well.

“Why, you filthy little—!”

Raena didn’t bother to finish telling Eliana what she was. She raised her hand in the Rider’s direction, though she was still several feet away, and clenched it into a fist. Eliana recognized the motion immediately; Caelum had made the same gesture towards the guard at the gates of Iterum, on the day that Oriens had hatched. And she quickly learned what the guard had felt.

She tried to inhale, but it was as if nothing was there. The air around her had completely vanished. She opened her mouth, struggling to gulp in some form of oxygen, but there was none. Raena’s lip curled with violent amusement as Eliana fell to her knees, spots swimming in front of her eyes, lungs burning.

The circle of elves stood, staring, watching it all.

Raena’s voice sounded far away as she laughed. “And you’re supposed to be our Chosen One? The one from the great prophecy? You are weak! You are a filthy little mongrel who is much too easy to kill. You are nothing!”

Eliana was on her hands and knees now, the edges of her vision darkening. Distantly, she heard someone shout from the crowd. Raena’s hand immediately dropped back to her side. Air rushed back into Eliana’s lungs with such sudden force that it felt as if her chest was going to burst. She lay on the ground, gasping and coughing, but relieved by the feeling of warm oxygen in her lungs.

“What did you think you were doing?” the angry voice shouted.

Eliana raised herself to her knees again and looked up to see Iocus grasping the front of Raena’s tunic, his normally cheery face inches from her, glowering with fury. Raena was doing her best to look innocent, but she was failing.

“I was sparring with her,” she replied in a falsely calm voice.

“Sparring includes neither magic nor trying to kill your opponent!” he spat back at her.

The woman yanked Iocus’s hand off of her tunic and shoved him away, taking a step back. “Don’t you lecture me, Iocus! She used magic first! And this has nothing to do with you!”

“Nothing to do with me?” he repeated in a loud, furious voice. “You just tried to kill my Rider! You tried to kill our Rider!”

A low murmur spread through the crowd as the elves evidently began to realize that what they’d just witnessed had not been an innocent sparring match at all. Eliana saw one dark-haired woman slip away through the crowd, heading back towards the village. The rest continued to whisper among themselves, their expressions beginning to look angry.

By that time, Eliana had gotten enough air circulating through her body to stand. She struggled to her feet, wobbling slightly. She coughed again before finding her voice.

“Raena,” she finally managed, her voice sounding raw and raspy. All eyes turned to her. “How many ways are you going to try to kill me before you give up?”

“What?” the woman snapped back.

“This is the second time you’ve tried to kill me, and you tried to kill my dragon before he ever hatched. But every time, you’ve failed.”

Raena’s eyes widened at the mention of the egg she’d stolen. Eliana had recognized her beside the waterfall all those months ago, but she had never said or done anything about it. The elf’s surprise made it apparent that she had hoped she’d been unrecognized.

“Yes,” Eliana went on, her voice growing stronger. “I know it was you who stole Oriens’ egg and tried to destroy it. Before we’d even met, you tried to put an arrow through my throat. And now this. Tell me, Raena, is it worth all of the effort? No matter what you try, whether you succeed or not, he will never want you.”

Rage flashed through her blue eyes, and Eliana knew that she was about to attack her again. She started forward and Iocus grabbed her arm. She quickly shook it off with a snarl and made towards the still-dazed Rider, her expression demanding blood.

“Raena!”

The elf stopped immediately, her expression of hatred turning to one of guilt and fear as she looked towards the sound of the voice. Eliana followed her gaze. Caelum was shoving his way through the crowd, followed closely by the dark-haired woman who had slipped away earlier. Raena shrank back, leaving Eliana where she stood, slightly bent as she tried to steady her spinning head.

Caelum planted himself firmly in front of Raena and glowered down into her face. “Is it true?” he demanded. “Did you attack Eliana? Did you try to kill her?”

Raena straightened herself and lifted her head, managing to look defiant. “Yes. She attacked me with magic first. I defended myself as I felt necessary.”

Iocus interjected, stepping up to them. “Raena had Eliana outmatched in hand-to-hand and she continued to attack. Eliana lost control and struck her with magic unintentionally. Raena retaliated by drawing the air away from her. And in my opinion, sir, she was not going to stop.”

Caelum looked from Iocus back to Raena. “Do you have anything to say for yourself?” he snapped.

She cast Iocus a dirty look, then met Caelum’s gaze steadily, her face expressionless. “No, sir,” she said calmly.

Caelum’s jaw clenched, and Eliana saw a faint, red glow forming around him again, as she’d seen it once before. “Go!” he shouted, pointing behind him towards the mountains, the glow flaring slightly.

Raena look startled, her calm façade shattered by the single word. “What? Go? Go where?”

“Do you think I care?” he shouted in her pretty face. “Go to Iterum. Go wander the desert for all I care! Just get out of here! You are dismissed from Iterum’s armies. I want you gone within the hour, and if I ever see you near Eliana or Amiscan ever again, I will kill you myself!”

“But, Caelum—!”

“Go!”

Raena bowed her head and started towards Amiscan. Eliana saw tears beginning to slide down her pale cheeks as the other elves parted, giving her a wide berth. Nobody attempted to offer her any comfort. The way they avoided her reminded Eliana of Vegrandis, how the villagers had avoided her like she carried a disease. If Raena had not just tried to kill her, she might have felt sorry for her. As it was though, Eliana felt nothing but relief at her departure.

The red light around Caelum did not dim, but grew brighter as he turned to the surrounding soldiers. “And what did you do?” he snapped. “I trusted each of you with our Rider’s safety, and you stand by and watch this happen? How much longer would you have waited if Iocus had not stepped forward? Would you have allowed your Rider to be murdered in front of your eyes?”

The elves made no answer, but shifted uncomfortably, avoiding their captain’s gaze. He turned away from them and finally faced Eliana, the fire around him finally dimming slightly as he stepped towards her. She straightened and tried to meet his gaze calmly, but her body swayed, her head spinning again.

Caelum quickened his step and caught her against his chest as her oxygen-deprived legs buckled under her. Immediately, he swept her into his arms and marched through the crowd, towards the hill in the center of Amiscan.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” she grumbled weakly. But despite her own protests, Eliana wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her face into his shoulder. His spring-rain smell seemed to slow her head’s wild spinning.

She sighed and trailed her fingers across his shoulder, over the skin of his neck, and into his hair. His arms tightened around her at the touch, the muscles in his shoulders tensing. Then, he sighed in a resigned way.

“Please,” he whispered, “don’t do that.”

“Why not?” she muttered, her face still resting at the base of his neck.

At the back of her mind, Eliana knew she was still slightly delirious, or she never would have behaved so forwardly. As it was, she felt as if everything was happening in a strange, surreal world, where there would be no consequences for her actions, no matter how ridiculous they might be. And she was relishing the feeling of having him hold her so close.

She hadn’t even noticed that they’d entered her quarters when he laid her on the bed. She tried to keep her arms around his neck, to pull him there with her, but he easily unlatched her fingers and forced her hands to her sides. She gave an irritated sigh as he lifted the blankets and pulled them over her.

“Because,” he finally answered, placing a cool hand on her flushed cheek. His eyes looked sad, somehow. “I just… can’t…”

The words rolled off of her like water from a duck’s back. She knew that the words should have hurt, but her emotions were still numbed by her delirium.

“Okay,” she whispered groggily, snuggling deeper under the blankets. “Later then. We can talk about it later.”

He smiled softly and shook his head as he brushed her hair away from her face. “You should rest. I’ll bring you some food later.”

She barely heard the end of his sentence. Her eyes closed against her will, and she fell into a deep, exhausted sleep.

~*~

When she awoke several hours later, the sun was directly over the opening in the roof. It was late afternoon. She glanced around, the morning’s events settling on her heavily. A plate of fresh fruit sat on the table beside her bed. In the chair in the corner, a blonde-haired elf sat slumped, his head resting on his fist, looking at the dragon who was curled in the center of the room.

Her heart gave a little jump of excitement at the sight of the short, blonde hair. Then he looked up at her with an impish smile, and her heartbeat settled to its normal rate. It was Iocus. He and Oriens looked towards her in unison, then the elf jumped to his feet and plopped himself onto the edge of her bed.

“How are you?” he asked eagerly.

“Fine, I think,” she answered, pushing herself up into a sitting position.

He made a sympathetic face. “That a pretty rough experience, what Raena did to you. It can wear you out for a good while.”

“Yeah,” she answered quietly. She gave him a small smile, meeting his earnest blue gaze. “Thank you for stepping forward, for stopping her.”

His smile returned. “You don’t think I would have actually let her kill a Rider, do you?”

She shrugged. “Nobody else did anything.”

He sighed a little, appearing to think about this fact for a moment. “I think… they all wanted to see what you would do—what you could do. I think they expected you to be able to do something incredible. I was just the first who recognized that you couldn’t fight back.”

She sighed irritably, looking away. “People have all of these expectations because of that prophecy,” she grumbled. “But… perhaps I’m not as strong as they think I am. The magic I used in that fight wasn’t even intentional.”

He shrugged, as if this mattered very little. “You’re still new to elven magic. It can get away from you sometimes, and it can be difficult to use it under distress. Still, you are a Rider, so I’m sure you’ll be stronger than any of us someday.”

Eliana gave a dismissive shrug, looking at the wall.

Iocus touched her shoulder, drawing her attention back to him. “Are you sure you’re alright?” he asked, tilting his head with an expression of worry on his face.

“Sure,” she said with a forced smile. “Just still a little tired.”

“Alright,” he replied with his usual cheeriness. “Well, if you’re sure, I’ll let you alone. I just wanted to see how you were.”

“Thank you, again,” she said.

He nodded and stood, giving a slight wave before trotting down the short flight of stairs and off through the tunnel.

In the center of the room, Oriens gave an irritated rumble in his chest. “I thought he’d never leave.”

She laughed and slipped out of bed, descending the stairs to where her dragon rested. “Be nice,” she scolded him silently. “He did save my life, after all.”

“Both of ours.”

“What do you mean?” she asked standing in front of his graceful golden face.

He tilted his head to the side. “Don’t you know? I thought Mara had told us about it in one of our lessons…”

“Told us what?”

“If a dragon decides to imprint on a Rider, it’s more than their minds that are connected—it’s their very lives. A dragon lives only for a day or two after the Rider has been killed. Just long enough to seek their revenge for the Rider’s death.”

She stared at him in silence for a moment. “Why would any dragon decide to mark a Rider if it means death when the Rider dies?”

He gave a snort of laughter. “Would you rather I hadn’t marked you?”

“Of course not,” she said with a quiet chuckle, stroking his nose. “But wouldn’t it be easier for you if you hadn’t?”

He shrugged his great, scaly shoulders, making his wings rustle against his hide. “Perhaps. But a dragon will always feel that his life is incomplete without a Rider. No matter how wild a dragon may be, a part of him will always yearn for the bond that was never formed. It has been that way since the first Rider was marked.”

“How do you know all of this?” she asked curiously.

Oriens paused. “I just… do. When we are in our eggs, our mothers share their thoughts with us, giving us their memories. And so knowledge is passed from one generation of dragons to the next, so that we never forget our history or our duty.”

Eliana let this sink in as she sat on the ground in front of him. He lowered his large head into her lap, and she scratched him behind his cheekbone, making him hum happily. After a moment of silence, she spoke, changing the subject.

“I assume you heard about Raena.”

“Yes,” he answered. She sensed his anger and agitation at not having been present. “Caelum managed to contact me when I was on my way back to Amiscan, about an hour after it happened.”

She sighed. “So she’s gone then.”

“I saw her starting up the mountain, alone, as I flew back to you.”

So it was over. Raena had been dismissed from the elven army and banished from Amiscan. It was possible that Eliana would never face her jealousy or hatred again. For some reason, it bothered her. Suddenly, all of the bickering and angry glares seemed so petty, and yet, it had led to this.

She leaned forward and rested her cheek against the top of Oriens’ head, taking in his warmth. She tried to be pleased at Raena’s departure, at the ending of all of that hatefulness. She failed.