"Y-yes, father." The fifteen year old girl bit her lip, nearly hard enough to draw blood as her father's brown eyes glared at her. Ismae didn't dare look into them. Instead, she kept her honey colored eyes focused on her bare and dirtied feet.
"Go. Now!" Anyone could tell that he was drunk by his slurred words if not for the half-empty bottle in his hand. The brown liquid sloshed inside as he lifted it to his lips again and took another big gulp. With her head down, the girl nearly ran towards the fields. Whenever he was drunk - which was most of the time - it was wise to steer clear of him. She already had bruises forming on her light brown skin from mistakes she had made earlier that week while he was drinking. She didn't want to make him mad again if she could help it.
Her mother had died in childbirth, when she was having her. Her father had told her the story only once. That he and her mother had had a child before her, a boy, who had been the love of their lives. He was perfect, but made his parents angry when he wanted to be a ship merchant instead of continuing the family turnip farm. Her brother had abruptly left one night, leaving his parents without so much as a note. So, in their grief and anger, they decided to have another son to replace the one they had loast, only it didn't turn out that way. Her mother's pregnancy hadn't been easy, and it was a surprise that even the baby had survived the birthing. Her mother hadn't, and her father blamed Ismae for her death, as well as her brother leaving.
He's still alive today, or at least her father thinks so. Late at night, when he isn't so drunk, Isame could sometime catch him staring at a painting. Crying sometimes. It pictured a teenage boy, a young mother and cheerful father. Though it was nearly two decades ago, Ismae could tell that the man was her father, and that was the life he had had before.
Shaking her head of those thoughts, she got down on her knees and started to work. She dug her hands into the soil and started pulling up the turnips and placing them in the basket. She had been late waking up this morning and when her father had woken around noon and didn't see her in the field, he grew angry. He was hungover from the night before and his solution was to get drunk again to get rid of the headache. He had woken her by slapping her across the face - she could already feel another large bruise forming there - and screaming in her ear. She has lost several hours of daylight time for the harvest. It took close to two days to pick all of the turnips out of the fields that surrounded their house. The hours she had wasted sleeping would be caught up at night. She wouldn't be able to go to sleep until early morning.
"Psst." She paused her work and looked up, but saw nothing. After a few moments she went back to her work, picking up another turnip and placing it in the basket.
"Psssst. Ismae!" The voice was louder this time, and it said her name. She sighed as she recognized the voice. First she looked behind her, making sure her father was gone. He was inside, no doubt in front of the fire with his whiskey in hand.
"Merrik! What are you doing here?" Her voice was hushed, worried that her father could hear.
The boy rose, his head peaking out of the tall grass that surrounded the fields. A smile plastered itself on his face as he caught sight of Ismae and she couldn't help the one that made to her lips either. Merrik was her best friend - her only friend, actually.
It was ten years ago that her father had taken her into town to buy some food. He was drunk, of course, and had grown angry when she had lagged behind. She was only five at the time and wasn't strong enough to carry all of the food. She wasn't a mule, but her father apparently didn't know he difference. He had lashed out at her, and Merrik saw from his family's blacksmithing barn. He saved her by stepping in front of her and taking the slap for her, which had only ended up making her father angrier. When they got home she endured the beating of a lifetime. But still, that boy who had saved her didn't leave her mind. He had found out who she was and every day he would walk the four miles outside of town to her house to make sure she was okay. She wasn't most of the time, but he somehow made it better.
"The Dragon Riders are here, Ismae! Haven't you always said that you were going to escape this place someday? The Riders are your chance!" He made his way into the field, hopping the fence and sitting next to her. He ground his fingers into the soil, pulling out turnips and putting them in the basket, looking at her every so often.
The Dragon Riders came every year to the small town of Belatona. They came with two eggs that they hoped would hatch for two kids. Ismae had always dreamed of becoming a Dragon Rider. She could be a hero, she could be strong, she could be independent and confident. The complete opposite of who she was now. But it was just a dream. What dragon would choose her as it's rider?
She gave Merrik a discontinuing look.
"An egg wouldn't hatch for me. Dragons are too..." She couldn't find the right word and ended up shaking her head. They were dragons, she was a turnip farmer's daughter. She wasn't worthy of them. She couldn't live up to the standards that Dragon Rider's set no matter how much she may want it.
"Well what's the harm in trying? All you have to do is touch it. Then you can come home and finish picking turnips out of the ground." Merrik ran a hand through his long, black hair before he reached into the soil to pick up another turnip and placing it into the basket.
"He'll know." She replied, not looking at her friend, focusing on her work.
"Not if you're fast. I bet he's already passed out. He won't wake up for hours."
Ismae sighed and stopped harvesting. Silence passed between them. Her father did usually sleep for hours at a time. And Merrik would end up helping her with the harvest anyway.
"Fine." What was the harm in trying?
Merrik smiled and stood, Ismae following him as they made their way down the path and towards the village. Everyone in the town knew that the Dragon Riders were there. There was talk of it in the street and children playing, pretending they had dragons of their own and were fighting villainous foes with sticks.
"They're in the town center. There's already a line close to a league long! And it's two elves this time. And their dragons are huge! One's red and the other is green. I bet they're at least twenty years old!" Merrik kept talking about the dragons. He was a fanatic about them. Since seeing them for the first time when he was seven, he had always wanted to be a Rider. He got ahold of any dragon related information he could. And though Isame often dismissed anything he told her, she was as interested in it as he was. It was a world away from her, and besides, the times they came to hatch more eggs, they seemed like a fantasy out of a dream.
It took close to an hour for them to reach the front of the line. The two eggs they had brought with them were magnificent. One was a dark black color with lighter grey veins stretching cross it. It looked like a polished obsidian stone. The other was small. It was rough looking and a red-brown color. As everyone went up to touch the eggs, you could see how they avoided the red-brown egg. It was small and ugly. Everyone wanted the big and strong dragon that would come out of the black egg. Ismae found that she couldn't look way from the deformed egg, though. She found it's difference beautiful.
It was her turn now. She went up the steps and stopped at the eggs. The elves, one male and one female, and their dragons stood behind the eggs, acting as guards.
"Place your hands on the egg. We will know if it bonds to you," the male elf spoke. Ismae's honey-colored eyes met the elf's blue ones before nodding. She placed her hand on the black egg first. Its surface was smooth and cool. It's surreal, she thought. I'm touching a dragon egg. An actual dragon. There was still that doubt in her mind that it would actually hatch, but just the thought of it brought her joy. She couldn't help the smile that came to her lips.
"Try the other one. The black is not yours," the elf spoke again, drawing her attention away from the egg. Her smile fell into a frown as she pulled attention to the second egg. Again, despite it's appearances, she found it beautiful. She lifted her hand and placed it on it's rough surface and found she couldn't look away. The longer she looked at it, the more she fell in love with it.
Then it moved.
She blinked once and a look of confusion crossed her face. Ismae looked up to the male elf, expecting an explanation, only to find a slight frown on his face. He looked to the other elf, a female and spoke in a language that Ismae didn't understand. The Ancient Language, the tongue that the elves, Dragon Riders, and magicians spoke. It was the language of magic and power.
"Come," the female spoke as she picked up the little red egg that shook and placed it in Ismae's arms. Then she turned and walked towards the town hall. It was where the new riders went after their egg had accepted them. Did this mean that the egg was hers? A wide smile came to her face at the thought.
"You will stay in here. We will come get you once we are finished." Then the elf left. Isame looked around the hall for only a moment. She had never been in the building before, only having saw the outside whenever she was in town. She was more focused on the little creature in her hands, however, than the architecture of the building.
Her eyes fell to the egg in her arms. It was only slightly bigger than the two of her hands. Slowly, she ran her hands along the surface of the egg. It looked as though it was made of dull dragon scales. She wondered why it was so different from the other eggs. Maybe there were multiple species of dragons. Or this was a deformed one? But whatever the reason, she didn't care. She was happy that it chose her.
Then her thoughts drifted towards her father and her smile fell. A stone fell to the pit of her stomach and her heart started to race. He'd be furious if he found out that she left the harvest to go see the dragons. Ismae didn't know what he'd do when he learned that an egg chose her. No one would be there to help him anymore. She'd have to leave him. She'd have a better life away from him, though. One filled with dragons and magic and fighting. But what if she wasn't cut out for it? She was a turnip farmer's daughter. She couldn't do any of the things the other riders would be able to do. If they'd found out about her past they'd taunt her and tease her.
The opening of the door broke her from her thoughts. Merrik came rushing in, a wide smile on his face and in his arms, a black dragon egg.
"Ismae! Guess what? The egg shook! It chose me! I'm going to be a Dragon Rider!" He shouted, his voice echoing against the marble walls of the building.
"That's great, Merrik!" She replied, a small smile coming to her face. She wouldn't be alone when she went off to train to be a Dragon Rider, at least. She'd have her best friend with her.
"Ismae Garrettsdottir. Merrik Greyson," The female elf spoke, looking between them with her forest green eyes. "You two have been chosen as the new riders to these eggs. You must go home to pack your items and say your good-byes. Essential items only. Meet Glenwing and I back here within an hour."
The two left the hall, dragon eggs in hand, and went home. First, they went to Merrik's home. When he told his mother that he was chosen, she started crying. She said that a Dragon Rider's life was much better then the life of a poor blacksmith. Many hugs and kisses were given as well as many tears shed, but in the end, Merrik said good-bye to his mother, father and little sister, promising that he would be back as soon as he could so they could meet his dragon.
As Ismae and Merrik walked the four miles to her house outside the city, she grew increasingly nervous. The closer they got, the more the stone in her stomach sunk. By the time her house was in view, Merrik had to convince her that she needed to tell her father that she was leaving.
"Father," she called as she walked into the living room, only to find him passed out on the chair. Placing the dragon egg on an adjoining chair where it would be safe from any swings or punches, she walked over to him and shook his shoulders. He woke up with cuss words and a swing of his fist. Ismae managed to avoid his hit.
"What are you waking me up for girl?" He shouted, straightening up as he searched his pockets for his flask. "You can't be done with the turnips already."
"I'm leaving, dad. I went to see the Dragon Riders. An egg...." Her mouth shut as his eyes met hers. There was fury in them, just as she had thought would happen. He rose from his chair, the sleep gone from his eyes now, but still evidence in them that he was not sober. He was a large man. Not because of muscle, but of size and weight. Ismae felt as though she was a mouse in front of a dog.
"You left the harvest?! Now it'll take you three times as long to dig up all the turnips! You insolent girl!" His voice rose to a yell towards his last sentence and Ismae took a step back. Merrik came up behind her, intertwining his fingers in hers. Ismae looked down towards the touch, and then to Merrik. The small smile on his face gave her a small burst of confidence.
"I'm leaving. An egg chose me. I'm going to be a Dragon Rider." Her words were confident for the first time as she spoke to him. Her father was taken aback. She'd never looked straight in his eyes for longer then a few seconds and now she had the audacity to talk back.
"Girl, I outta break every bone in your body!" He raised his hand and swung again, intending to slap her, but she was shoved backwards. Merrik had pushed her down to the floor, and moved to intercept her father. Merrik caught his hand in mid-air, stopping the slap. There was fury in both of the men's eyes.
"Don't. Touch. Her." The tone of Merrik's voice was one that Ismae had never heard before. It was protective and confident and angry. She watched the scene for a few seconds, watching the wordless exchange between her father and Merrik. Merrik might've been young, but he was much stronger then her father due to the hard labor in his family's blacksmith business. Ismae could see the dominance that her father held start to falter. He was worried now. No one had ever stood up to him before. Isame stood from the ground and placed her hand on Merrik's shoulder, not looking into her father's eyes anymore.
"Merrik. Let's go." She was less confident this time, her voice barely above a whisper, but she just wanted to leave. She was ready to leave this town behind.
Merrik stared into her father's eyes for a few more seconds before letting go of his arm. Her father held the arm protectively against his chest. He glared at Ismae and her friend as though that would regain some of his confidence. Ismae didn't even look at him though. She picked up her dragon egg, holding it like one would a baby and walked out of the house, Merrik behind her.
Their walk back to Belatona was silent. They found the two elves in the building that they had left them in. Merrik had grabbed his items and placed them in a backpack while at his home, but Isame had none. The fight with her father had distracted them. The male elf, Glenwing, questioned it, but neither replied. They did not want to tell the elves what had happened.
"Now that both of the eggs have chosen Riders, we will made our way to Vroenguard where you will be trained," said Glenwing. "It will take about two days to get there by dragon back. We will rest at night and travel by day. Your dragons should hatch any time between a few hours to a few days." Ismae nodded, her eyes falling to the egg she held in her hands.
They made their way outside to where the elves' dragons had been resting. A group of people had gathered around the town square. They were there to see the two new riders off. Merrik smiled and waved to the crowd, showing off his egg as he did so. Ismae on the other hand managed a smile. She wasn't used to all of the stares. It made her nervous.
"This, is Soreth," said Glenwing, putting a hand on the green dragon's leg. Soreth lowered her head down to Merrik and Ismae's height, a single green eye staring at them for a moment before standing tall once more.
'Pleasure.' The two jumped at the female voice. They had not seen anyone speak and looked towards the elves for an answer. It was the female who spoke.
"Dragons communicate with their minds, though usually only to their rider." She said with a bored expression. "Your dragons will start talking close to a month after they hatch."
'I am El'nil. Forgive my Rider. Aila can come off as rude, though she does not mean to be.' A second voice invaded their thoughts this time. This one was deep; obviously male. Ismae looked towards the light red dragon standing behind the female elf, Alia. He was larger then the green, though not by much. His translucent wings opened slightly. 'Shall we go?'
Alia nodded once and expertly climbed onto her dragon's saddle, offering a hand down to Ismae. She climbed up the dragons side, her opposite hand clutching the egg against her stomach. Glenwing did the same for Merrik.
The crowd around them cheered as the dragons opened their wings and lept into the sky. Ismae barely noticed the roar of the crowd, though. She was more focused on the ground growing smaller beneath her. Her stomach clenched and her heart started to race. As the dragons climbed higher into the sky, Belatona kept getting smaller. Soon it was the size of her thumb. The dragons leveled off with Soreth leading the way.
'I will not drop you.' The voice she recognized as El'nil, spoke in her head again.
"I've never flown before. It's frightening." She replied aloud, having to shout over the roaring wind in her ears. Her curled brown hair whipped in the wind, as did her loose trousers and shirt. The frigidness of the air caused her to shiver. So far, Ismae hated flying.
"You should get used to it. Soon you will be flying every day." Alia replied.
Ismae simply nodded into Alia's back and closed her eyes, hoping to settle her vaulting stomach.