Krysian Yelt Point of View
The cracking of the fire spreads through the air, almost resembling the noise of moving leaves in a strong wind. My lungs fill with black smoke, deep breaths flowing through my body. I try to calm myself as the Everything's take the last of our rice, the final bits of our rations. I press my teeth in my tongue, almost bleeding from my canines digging deeper and deeper into my soft tissue. What right do they have to do this?
Mother drops to the ground begging to be spared from the Giving, the one night a week that the Everything's bombard our deteriorated shacks snatching part of our rations in favor of their feasts, the ones we cannot join because our status would practically kill them.
The Everything glares and slaps my mother across the face a dark whelp developing slowly across her sunken features. Her and I have never been close, but no man should harm a woman. Not even one that has neglected to provide since the loss of her mate.
"Get the fuck away from her you good for nothing bumpkin!" I grab the only knife we have in the house and chunk the smooth, sharp blade towards his temple.
The knife does not hit intended target lodging itself in his eye as he backs away from my mother throwing the last bit of rice on the floor.
Either we get it, or no one does.
"You just signed your death certificate." The young Noble yells and points at me sending the castle guards my way, my father's training snaps through my muscles preparing me against these men twice my size.
I watch as the first dark haired guard swings at my legs to cut off my foot, the punishment for speaking to a Noble without permission. Clenching muscles, my body shoots up onto the highest surface in the house, my dad's old rocking chair. The single room shack seems to get smaller as fellow guards run into the room, I jump over his next swing, my knees knocking into my chest. My last attempt to swing my leg to land a hit on his chin is futile, another male grabbing me midair pulling me to the ground. My face slams against the dirt, a bunch of joyous hollers moving through the small space. I hear the screams of my mother but tune her out to focus on my last moments.
My hand naturally lands over my three tear drops on my hip, my mates mark. While I hate the idea of having someone perfectly matched to me, the thought of never having felt the chest breaking pain my mother goes through, or the endless love she used to feel, settles a deep pain in my stomach. Even the weak deserve to feel love.
Tears streaming down, legs hurting, stomach growling, I watch as the guards grab their ropes, high fives and smiles throughout. They snag my mother, pinning her against the wall to tie her like we would a pig, all over a few mediocre grains of rice.
The ropes dig into my wrist as they drag me to my beheading. Mother cries as she is also dragged behind me, her ropes pinching against her skin. Does she ever pull herself together?
Our kingdom is one of old laws, outcasts, and the 'in' groups. Once you find yourself on the bottom, you tend to never work yourself back up, a fate more sealed than mate bonds themselves.
Taking in the surroundings, I watch the guard's sword nearest to me shifting out of his cover. Such an easy thing to forget, clipping in a sword, however when in such situations as these it leads to problems.
I use most of my strength to pull myself against the ropes lifting my feet off the ground to swipe the sword from the satchel. Pulling it to my mouth, the guard screams turning towards me. I use my mouth to adjust, grabbing the hilt with my feet and shoving it between the knot and the pole snapping it from pressure rather than sharpness. When I fall, my back slamming back against the dirt, my hands are free with the sword laying between my feet.
Grabbing the sword from the ground lets me stand with purpose, the blade pointed at the man who slammed me against the floor ruining my already bent nose.
"The Nothing has a sword!" His pathetic screams move through the small town, no one reacting with haste.
"Calm down Ron it's not like she knows how to use it." I settle my hips, leaning forward slightly with a small adjustment of my hold. My feet are set, gaze deadly on the guard.
"We'll see about that, shall we?" The guard, Ron, raises his fist a small amount of sweat building on his hair line. His confidence must be low, barely believing he can win against a Nothing like myself.
Loud thumps can be heard as he runs at me going to tackle but I jump to the left and spin around knocking his legs out from under him causing him to fall onto his back. I raise the blade to his jugular pressing hard enough to send a trail of dark blood down his neck. I feel his fast breathing, chest rising and falling quickly. He tries to shake out of the hold, the blade moving deeper into him. I could just kill you...
"Yield, let mother and I go, then I will spare your pathetic excuse for a life." I spit in his face, eyes starting to brim with tears.
"I will call the other guards for assistance." Said other guards watch with wide eyes, each taking a small step back. Respect the challenge.
"Then what honor you had will be lost, your title will be stripped. You will be just like me. A nothing, a nobody, a target. Do you wish that upon yourself and your family? How would you explain this to your mate?" I seethe against his ear, sliding the blade slightly a groan of pain resonating against me, "Or I could just kill you."
"Who taught you to fight?" His voice is barely above a whisper, I place a mocking kiss on his temple.
"Do you always question the executioner?"
"Excuse me?" He whispers.
"You are excused, do you yield? Or should I roll your head into the garden as spring fertilizer." He sucks in a breath and taps the ground twice. I watch his body relax, palms shown.
"I yield, you have my word that your demands will be met." I pull the blade back to step off him letting myself enjoy his walk of shame after getting up. Per the law, his blade is now mine.
My mother runs towards me, her wails falling on deaf ears. I slip the sword into the sheath the guard threw at me, the final admission of defeat, it was almost too big, even on the smallest loop. Without another word the castle guards walk away, the eyeless Noble avoiding my gaze. Your kind are next.
Our shack burned to ash, we find a field that seems to be a place of comfort. I let my mother cry into my shoulder, her heart shattering at the final loss. While our shack meant little to me, that was the last place she had with my father, she cherished it dearly. I would be a heartless child to leave her so vulnerable and alone so soon, but once I do, I might never come back. I've never been one for pity.
I ditched my mother in a nearby village. She was too emotional for a journey, and I would rather cut off my left ear than hear her cry for another moment. My father's wishes track through my mind, a reminder of what I had planned to do. What better time than now? Nowhere to go, no one to account for. My heart settles on the journey to the castle, offering myself as a Dragon Rider with promise of compensation. This is something that my father engrained in, promised was my true purpose, and now it was time to fulfill it.
I spend the last of my coin on a satchel stuffing as much grain and provisions in it I could gather. Letting myself indulge in the stream, a bath to wash the ick of the Everything's, the true adventure begins.
Each town I enter is nicer than the last. Before each new group of people, I pat the wrap around my hips that covers my mark. It's not time to find them yet, and I don't need a male spotting me like a hound dog to claim me.
As the sun set's and rises, I crawl trees sleeping in the branches to avoid guards. Small punishments are encouraged for people out of their homes at night, but it would be worse to see someone dressed like me in a town edging the castle. I don't have enough class to be on this dirt. To hell with them all I'd say, but I trust my father and his wishes, sometimes a little too much.
Looking at a small map in town, I take the final hours walk to the castle stables. Minimal guards are in place, easy to get around as I walk in. My assumption is the dragon riders can handle themselves, but it still seems idiotic to keep it so unguarded. Tracking through the grass, I pull the satchel up a little higher on my shoulder spotting a young man speaking to an older gentleman.
The younger gentlemen is very attractive, his lips the focus of my attention. I watch him speak, body language minimal with nicely set shoulders demanding attention.
My feet move without thought dragging me over to him. The black-haired beauty turns his crystal blue gaze over to me, a look of surprise across his tan features. He looks me over taking in the rags that adorn my body. Snatching the shirt and pants from a mid-level village was a good approach, but it still is nothing compared to the beautifully stitched garments both men wear in front of me.
"Hello madam, I am Pri-Pryton, Pryton East and who are you?" The handsome man says, his voice sending a fuzzy warmth over my skin.
"Krysian Yelt, former division of Gunda, a Nothing. I wish to train to be a dragon rider and offer my services to the crown." I fall to my knees lowering my head to them both. The sword that barely held on hips is presented.
In the Kingdom of Umbell it is seen as a complete show of loyalty and respect to bear someone's sword to the superior. It gives the superior a chance to kill us, or most importantly trust us. By dipping to a bow and presenting my newly won sword, my chances are a little higher for them to accept me, but it could also be my death wish.
The other gentlemen, gray haired but ranked, starts to circle around me as I hold the position anxiously waiting for his word of offering or refusal. His voice penetrates the air sending my heart into a small frenzy, "Marked?"
"Yes." I shudder as he looks down at my hip seeing my impromptu wrap.
"Hiding it?" He pauses his steps, I watch the shadow on the ground tilt his head.
"Yes for my own protection."
"Protection dear?" His voice becomes softer, steps starting again. I feel him lay his hand over the blade analyzing, "Such a nice blade for a mid-division."
"I wish to serve as a Rider. If I had a mate, my focus would not be on loyalty to the crown, I don't wish to find him." My words almost seem to hurt the handsome fellow who is still standing around watching this grass show. I skip over his compliment, no need to explain how I obtained such blade.
"You seem to be physically fit while you could do with some meat on your bones and show a promising sign of loyalty, maybe I can make something out of you. Getting passed the guards and traveling as far as you have convinced me more than the stolen blade. Pryton what do you think?" His tone is condescending as he speaks to the younger man, his name drug out when the shadow turns to him. I switch my focus to the handsome man's more broad shadow, his head nodding slowly, "With Pryton agreeing with me, and his desire to become a rider as well, you will be offered a chance. Only one. My name is Jonvi, Jonvi Gru."
"I am in your debt Commander Gru, however, Sir, I assumed it would be more difficult to get placed in the Riders." Should I bite my tongue off now or later?
"Well, Ms. Yelt, we have lost many of our riders recently. Our need to replenish is more important than qualifications. You, consequently enough, have chosen to beg at the right time." He clicks his tongue, a sigh moving out deep from his belly, "Also, Ms. Yelt please address me as Jonvi, titles are of no significance to me." A belly laugh escapes through his lips and two fingers are put under my chin to lead me up to standing. His demeanor has changed, a welcoming smile coming over his features. I smile as well. He reminds me of a dad that acts too harsh, but only out of love.
"Well, I thank you Jonvi, you will not regret your decision."
"Make sure of it, Ms. Yelt." He runs his hand through his longer beard throwing out his hand as a signal for us to follow him. We find ourselves moving in the direction of the stables, a roar breaking through the walls. Out of the corner of my eye I catch Pryton watching me and almost want to blush, something that I have never experienced in my life. Checking myself, I stop looking at him with the subtle reminder that he could have a mate at home, someone who he shares a bed with. I am nothing to him, and never will be. I have a focus, a goal, and it needs to be met.
Damien Blueblood Point of View
"Prince Blueblood please rise and go to the wash bin you have guests expecting your arrival and I do not want my body in pieces because of your love for the bed." My maid says harshly as she runs around the room throwing open the curtains that I closed ten minutes ago the last time she opened them. The morning sun breaks through stabbing my eyes sharply.
"Harsh words to your future King Ms. Dumark, harsh words." A teasing voice escapes me, I can feel her eye roll from across the room. A pet peeve of mine, but I will never correct her. She could beat me to pieces.
"Calm down Prince Blueblood, I'm the only maid that can stand your annoying antics." She pauses at a drawer looking over to me, "Are we wrapping your mark today?"
"Yes Ms. Dumark. My father has ranked ladies visiting today and I would prefer them to stay ignorant. The last time I left it uncovered I had women carving their skin. Such dedication that I must not encourage!" I lean up exiting the bed, her knowing smile greeting me as I walk through the room.
"If you wish for my opinion Prince Blueblood, I believe that your marked lady is someone of low rank. Your father is right to worry that fate hasn't brought you both together yet." Dumark clicks her tongue and runs to the closet to get my wrap, a suit hanging next to the open door.
Dumark runs through the room, helping me wrap my mark and put on the suit over it. Letting myself gather my wits for a moment, Dumark apologizes to me as Lord Kinship barrels into the room photos of woman between his arms, two young apprentices following behind.
"Oh, good morning. Glad to see you still haven't learned to knock."
Ms. Dumark exits quietly, a wink sent my way as she closes the door. Kinship huffs holding up the photos demanding me to look at each one and their respective mark.
"Do you have any boundaries? No, none of these women appeal to me, and none bear my mark. You should know by now that I don't like being hassled with such things so early in the morning."
Kinship scoffs and rolls his eyes, does no one have respect?
"Your father demands this of me. With you in line to receive the crown at the end of the month, in time with the annual Tri Time Ball, he is beginning to look at arranged agreements. Nobles have been offering their daughters left and right trying to get them in with the crown, and without a queen..."
"You act as though a month isn't long enough to find her. I will not, and won't, marry a woman that isn't meant to be with me. These Nobles can keep their daughters and be thankful when they find their own mates."
I go to step past him, already late for breakfast with my parents, Kinship tries to stop me, "But if your father..."
"My father should speak about these matters to me and me only. You are dismissed." He needs no more instruction leaving my room. Two apprentices still stand in the room looking at me with a wide gaze, "Are you in need of something?"
"Y-yes my Prince, Jonvi wishes to speak with you." I nod and they scurry out not waiting for a dismissal like their teacher had. I rub my temples giving myself one more look over in the mirror before leaving my room, my patience staying behind.
The kitchen is full of life as my father and mother eat their breakfast.
"A king is punctual son." My mother scolds and pushes a bowl of rice my way. An old-fashioned punishment for being late.
"Thank you mother." If I could shove this down Kinships throat I would, however offering me anything is appreciated.
"What is your plan, Damien?" My father's voice carries throughout the room, bouncing off the stone walls amplifying itself.
"My plan father?" He lays his utensil down, crossing his hands under his chin to give me focus.
"Your plan to find your marked? Jonvi said you spoke to him, but I have had no information brought or told to me about the topic."
He tilts his head, my mother stops eating as well waiting for the anticipated argument between father and me. While he cares for me, we are too similar of people, our heads butting at every turn. It has made the transition of titles more difficult than it could be.
"Tradition calls for the last month of duties assigned to the prince to be removed. This time is for me to understand my people, align myself with expectation, and get a time of freedom before I settle into you position, father. After speaking with Jonvi, I will be joining the riders. Traveling throughout the kingdom to serve the people will have the highest chance of me finding my marked."
My mother spits out her breakfast that she was slowly chewing, my father's hand slamming into the table.
"You imbecile, a prince has never been a rider, not since our beginning days! What in your childish brain, are you thinking?"
"Before you judge so harshly, Jonvi and I have discussed me being under a new name. Armor, with an under suit, has been made to cover my mark. While I appreciate the condescending response, this is my decision and will be executed starting today."
"Honestly Camden, while this caught me off guard, I don't see the real issue. I mean he used to ride the Dragons with your brother all the time. I feel as though he would fit in, maybe even teach him things about his Kingdom that we can't." My mother smiles at her mate, his eyes softening for her, a hand reached out to lay over hers. She sticks out her bottom lip a bit and he caves sucking in a deep breath before turning to me.
"If Sef agrees, then so do I. Sadly. Speak with Jonvi at once about the arrangements, send me a report on expected whereabouts. As of today, you are released from your duties for the next month until the Tri Time Ball."
Jonvi stands next to me, a quick discussion over my armor plating and dragon riding approaches.
"With the new developments against Laress, our riders are dying before we can make any headway. The dragons following after. I don't know how much longer we can keep this up." My uncle grumbles running his hand through his beard, a comfort of his.
"Do we have any men that have reported back since their last deployment?"
Jonvi groans, looking around the training field, "None. All the pairings weren't mated, so none can communicate with each other either or their dragons. It's made it difficult to stay together and work as a unit."
My response is halted, both of us turning to see a young lady come through the trees. No guards follow her, a long sword hanging off her hips. Her attire is interesting, a mix of noble and nothing, however she wears it well.
Her beauty is heart stopping, her dark blue hair frames her face, pants sitting low on her hips displaying her navel. The blue haired beauty's figure is rather small, her top hanging loosely on her shoulders with a satchel tucked under her arm.
Her melodic voice converses with Jonvi, his approval of her evident when he looks over to me asking for mine as well. When she stands, he gaze is set, deep red lips pulled into a smile.
Jonvi calls us to follow him, her leading the way. She holds herself well walking with purpose towards the stables. I take in the view, a nicely shaped bum in my sights, hair trailing down to just above her waistline.
Running to catch up to her side, Jonvi walking ahead, she ignores me keeping her focus towards the roaring stables.
"Dragon rider and no mate, what brough you here?"
"That was almost as dull as asking me about the color of the leaves on an evergreen, Mr. East." She snickers and slides her blade back into her sheath.
"Apologies for my dullness, darling, but I find it hard to believe you just waltzed in here for no reason."
A single laugh escapes her lips, mocking with no real humor behind it, "Darling? A little too endearing for someone you just met. Do you not agree?"
"Please call me Pryton, darling." Maybe if I push this beauties buttons she'll give me the time of day. While I find myself surrounded with beautiful women daily, hers is on another terrain. I can't help but stare at her defined features combined with that wicked tongue.
"I will call you nothing if you do not call me by my name." She bites at me, the stable a short distance from us now.
"And what do you prefer to be called?"
"I prefer Krys and will expected to be called as such." She clicks her tongue, moving through the stable doors that Jonvi has opened for us. Her eyes never turned to me, her attention becoming a challenge I am willing to accept.
Jonvi clears his throat, waving his hand over the two beasts, "These are the dragons we have. Both are well equipped and trained. I will allow you to pick your tame." He steps back laying a hand on Krys, "Ladies first please."
I look at the dragons then at Krys who's eyes are wide. I see her smile grow across her face hands outreached towards the two dragons in front of her.
Closet to the stables doors rests a large mount the name on the gate reading Frenasia.
Small crimson eyes sit gracefully within the creature's rounded, hard skull, giving the creature a very ominous looking appearance. Two small crystal growths sit atop its head, just above its large, round ears. Small diamonds line her ears, each a different shape and size as well.
Several small fan-like skin and bone structures run down the sides of its jaw lines. I watch Krys hover over the structures, the dragon offering her snot to her. I let my eyes wander over her more, analyzing other features.
Its snout is stubby and has two narrow, pointy nostrils with tiny horns on its chin to pair with the growths along the jaw.
Frenasia gives a smile towards the both of us, several huge teeth poke out from the side of its mouth with the actual smile revealing only a fraction of the terror hiding inside.
A huge neck runs down from its head and into a bulky body. The top is covered in coarse skin and a row of spikes runs down its spine. Its bottom is covered in crystal-like skin and is colored much darker than the rest of its body.
Six slim limbs carry its body and allow the creature to stand tall and proud in the stable. Each limb has four digits, each of which end in sharp talons seemingly made of stone like material.
Finally, magnificent wings grow starting from just above its shoulders and end at the end of its shoulder blades. The wings are rounded, the inner sides of the wing are full of minor holes and each bone structure ends in a curved, yet blunt tip. Diamonds mimic the structure on the ear, lining the edge of its wings sending tiny rainbows throughout the space when the light catches. Moving down its body, its thick tail ends in a scythe-like blade and is covered in the same deep purple, coarse skin as its body.
The other dragon looks alert and strong ready for battle, but not near as intimidating simply named Hound. Small pearly eyes sit low within the creature's rounded, horned skull, which gives the creature a home-y appearance, one that you could consider more pet like than deadly. One enormous central horn sit atop its head, just above its narrow, angular ears. A row of small tendrils runs down the sides of each of its jaw lines falling down like whispers. Its nose is wide and has two wide, warped nostrils transitioning well into it head that connects to a broad neck runs down from its head and into a massive body.
The top is covered in radiant skin and rows of armor plating runs down its spine. Its bottom is covered in rounded scales and is colored lighter brown than the rest of its body.
Four muscular limbs, surprisingly different than Frenasia, carry its body allowing the creature to stand arrogantly, imposing on the space like a deer that struts through the forest.
Each limb has four talons, each of which end in pointy nails made of obsidian, a dark color reflecting through the room.
Slender wings grow starting from just above its shoulders and end all the way down at its pelvis. The wings are somewhat triangular, the insides of the wing seem to be made of thin crystals and sharp, spiky scales cover the top of each visible bone. Its spiky tail ends in a curled tip and is covered in the same radiant skin as its body.
Both of the dragons hold a respectable beauty, but neither have any matching traits. I have always known that dragons are diverse but seeing two right next to each other... it blows me away.
When I was younger, I would ride with Jonvi on his mouth, one that resembles more of a cat like look than anything between these two mounts. I was never allowed to enter the stables, the riders always working with their beats, the leaving for long amounts of time. Then when I grew into my duties, the time I had to spare started to dwindle until I couldn't ride any more.
"Which one Ms. Yelt?" Jonvi speaks up, Krys's hands waving between the two. Her tongue slips out as she focused, eyes moving between them both once more.
"I claim Frenasia." The dragon's pleased with her, moving her snout through the stable letting her lay her hand on her. Krys slowly pets her, mindful of the jutting structures. The dragon shifts down her head, putting Krys hand between its eyes, she starts to shake her head mimicking a scratching motion. A laugh leaves the woman, her dragon relaxing under the scratches that Krys offers her.
"I believe that leaves me with Hound."
Jonvi nods, taking a moment for Hound to offer his snout to me. I lay my hand on the male dragon, his skin cool to the touch, "Now with these dragons, they both have abilities. Abilities are not uncommon with dragons, however these two are gifted more than most. Frenasia has a telekinetic ability. It's very useful for combat however it takes more energy than it's worth right now. On the other hand, Hound has developed the ability to produce ice and use it as a weapon. This is something that works best in colder areas and directly relates to the water in his system. No water. No ice."
He moves across the space grabbing a paper, Krys pauses her scratches to look over, Frenasia very upset as she presses her hand harder against her new masters.
"With being new riders, we have a training mission that will teach you how to work with your dragons. You both have no way to speak to each other, or the mounts. This is completely based on outward communication and understanding. You will travel to Craghorn to retrieve these and bring them back, without dying."
Jonvi hands the list over to Krys, her hair falling forward over her ears. I look behind her petite form to read it with her.
Baby Tears
Snake eyes
Gold teeth
Saddle
"Not to sound like an idiot, but what kind of grocery list is this?" I mumble, Jonvi pinching the bridge of his nose. If he could murder me, he would.
"Pryton, these are ingredients to make a mind link potion that allows us to speak to our dragons. With other stipulations of course, mind you. You have to be compatible... never mind that right now. While this might seem like a 'grocery list' these are all components that can be blended together. " Jonvi grumbles giving me the look.
"That definitely made you look like the idiot." Krys mocks, tucking the list in her back pocket.
"You really are a shining star of love and womanly compassion, darling."
"I am pushing you off your fucking dragon Pryton if you don't-" Jonvi cuts her off, clapping louder than her threat.
"I have never been one to stop a fight, however you both have limited time to complete this. I need you there and back in twenty-four hours or the initial bond you developed meeting the dragons will wear off." He claps again, shoving at Krys. She straightens her shoulders taking a step towards her dragon.
A smirk comes over her when she turns to me, "I bet she's faster than yours." Even Hound huffs at the challenge.