The trees were changing. Tiny green buds spotted their bare branches bursting with vibrant green colour. I've always loved the colder weather. From snuggling up in front of the fireplace with a cozy blanket and a good book to the beautiful colours, the trees had to offer us as their final goodbye. My feet crunched over the fallen dead leaves, browned from the colder season's harsh chill. Snow clung to the land far longer than we were accustomed to this year, but now the trees were finally showing signs of life as the sun warmed their hibernating minds to awaken.
Gentle whispers passed by my ears as I walked through my village. Being born and raised in the village of Acrine, I had grown accustomed to the quiet lifestyle. Acrine was the smallest village out of the six that rested on the lands of Pontheugh. The largest being referred to as a city held most of the population and was where the annual celebration of the warmer weather was held, which would take place within the next few days as nature bloomed with life.
My family and most of the village were on their way to Solaris, where we would stay a few days to attend the celebration. I was giddy about the trip, unable to contain my excitement. I wasn't sure what I was excited about—Whether it be the celebration or seeing the statues of our Gods we worshipped wholeheartedly. I knew I was dreading the crowd, the bustling streets and the loud noises, but the overall experience of participating in the celebration was enough to give me a skip in my step.
The Gods were the very first beings to have existed in this world. Before anything in this world existed, they were there. No one knew how they came to be, but they were the first thing anyone could remember about our world. The Goddess of Water, Onera, created the oceans surrounding our lands. Vast open seas with secrets in the deepest parts where no one has ever been able to explore. The God of Fire, Fydyis, gave our people the ability to have light when the world turned dark. We were able to warm ourselves and cook food that was not to be eaten raw. The God of Air, Sydar, gifted us with the ability to breathe and expanded our lungs with sweet-tasting air. His presence was all around us, and we could feel him in the gentlest of breezes to the most tormenting winds. The God of Earth, Idon, covered the world with fertile soil so we could plant crops of every degree. We grew food as well as crops to harvest for clothing. The trees grew tall to shelter us from the sweltering sun and anchored the soil so it would not blow away from the wind.
Lizarae, the Goddess of Lightning, was revered by all of the townspeople. She poured her heart and soul into giving us the gift of rain that drenched our soil with life to grow lush and green. However, we could see her anger through the storms created that tore through cities, damaging homes and destroying crops. When she was mad, we knew about it.
Most people supported the Gods because they gave us the ability to live and grow. They also gave us protection in the form of gifting certain people who would defend our lands from the monsters that plagued us. Every season the Gods would come to earth, gifting our people with their stones to show us who would be next in line, destined for greatness.
There are others who did not support the idea of binding their children to death and war. I could understand this, but if we had no one to protect our lands from the demons hiding in the shadows, then who would?
There was one God that no one spoke of much, but he was known to be around. The God of Darkness, Deimos. He made it so we could have a break from the sun that blistered mercilessly all hours of the day. But when darkness comes, so did the corrupt. The darkness allowed for sneaking around, and the demons had an advantage with the element of surprise when we couldn't see a thing.
People don't enjoy the thought of someone being bonded to shadows. If someone were, then they would be bonded to a dragon that was uncontrollable and the person's soul would be just as ruthless and terrifying. But, he hadn't visited these lands in centuries, and I'm sure I wouldn't be alive to see the day when he would appear again.
The last person to be bonded to shadows waged a war far too terrible to speak aloud of. He divided the land, burned down cities, and killed thousands of people and enslaved dragons. His name was feared, and so arose the stereotype of Deimos. That being said, his statue was ripped down after the war, and there hadn't been someone bonded to darkness since then.
For some time now, the Gods had not visited our lands. No one had ever laid eyes on the Gods, but it is known that they visit when there are stones left at the bottom of their statues. Many worried about their disappearance; others couldn't care less.
I just wondered what it would be like to have a life full of unexpected adventures at every turn.
There is talk about how one stone remains unclaimed from years ago. Having an unclaimed stone for so long was unheard of, as the Gods only gift their stones when they sense someone has come of age to handle their power. I had never laid eyes on a dragon or rider, but that's because they were rare in the world we lived in and they resided in a different part of these lands.
Aeberuthey, the dragon island, was where the unbonded dragons dwelled and where riders went to claim their other half. Once having done so, these young men would train at the Academy of Rhydderck where they would become fully fledged dragon riders. This was their destiny, to protect our lands from beastly creatures and create a safe home for the people living here.
Here in Acrine, everyone got along, well, mostly everyone. There were often occasions where the town's drunk, Steve McGarty, would cause a ruckus after he's been in The Belltower Inn all day. Not many could stand to be around him, nevermore than be capable of holding a conversation with him. There was one person in the village that could stand to be around him, and that would be me. Though he may stink and would be drunk more than three-quarters of the time, the stories he told were phenomenal. I couldn't get enough.
There were tales of his crusades across the Endless Sea, how he met royalty, far more than what lives around here. He battled against demonic creatures that were two times the size of men and were oozing with the stench of death. And there were the tales that I craved to hear the most, how he was once a dragon rider. He says it was the best thing that happened to him, and the worst was when he lost his dragon in battle.
No one in the village had laid eyes on these creatures; they were a rare sight, so why would they believe him? I didn't mind if they were real or not. It's the way the story's told, how the author described everything to the finest detail, almost making it so that the creature was standing before you.
I was on my way to the Belltower Inn with a book in hand that Mr. McGarty had loaned me for a few days. It told a tale of a sailor lost at sea, with no wind to guide him home and no sun or stars to point him in the direction of home. He was alone, his crew having been swallowed up by the dark, icy talons of the ocean. He grew to insanity, seeing visions of what used to be his ship—His crew hoisting the sails, running around on deck, as he stood watch by his helmsman. But it was all in his head, a memory of what once was and what would never be again. The ending of the book was not happy, as he succumbed to the desires being sung into his head, weaving a wicked lie of finding peace in the depths of the ocean. He jumped into the water and was dragged down to the darkest part of the sea where he soon realized his mistake when he stared into the eyes of a siren.
It left me craving more, but the author was cruel and decided to leave the book just as is. I often times made up my own ending if I didn't enjoy the book. Maybe his praying to the Gods was heard, and he was gifted with the wind in his sails and a starry night sky to guide him home where he reunited with his family. I liked this ending far better than the others. But, I knew the author's main point was to convey how alone we truly were in this world with Gods who did not listen to our pleas for help.
He was a hardcore anti-believer, but there were also those who were extremists and worshipped the Gods night and day. I was glad I grew up in a family where we lived in a happy middle. I believed in the Gods higher power, but I did not depend on them to answer my prayers. We were put into this world to make our own way of living, testing our endurance of all the bad days that came with it.
"Hi Mister McGarty," I said, taking a seat beside the crinkled man. "I have the book you loaned me."
He turned his head to gaze at me. It took a moment for him to focus on where I was, but once he did, a half smile spread on his face. "Ah, so how did you like it, Las?" He turned away, clutching at a mug on the counter.
I shrugged my shoulders, placing the book on the wooden counter before looking it over. "I didn't mind it. I wished the ending were different though."
McGarty snorted, his whole body shaking with the force. "As everyone says when they read it," He grumbled lowly, hunching over in his seat.
I put the book down, slid it toward where he was and sat with him for a few moments in silence. "Mister McGarty, are you going to the celebration?"
"Hm?" He sounded as if he didn't hear me. The words must've registered because he then replied, "Oh, that thing. No, no. I don't think I will be going."
I felt almost sad for him. If he wasn't going, then he would be stuck in here all day, alone until I came back. How boring that sounded.
"I think you should come," I shifted in my seat. "You should get some fresh air, and think how fun it would be to see the festival."
McGarty snorted again, something I was used to when he responded to me. "I'm too old to travel, Las."
"I disagree," I countered in a sweet voice.
He was quiet, staring ahead as he clutched onto his mug. I almost wondered if he was deep in thought, too drunk to hear me. He looked out of it.
"Did I ever tell you how I first came to be a dragon rider?" He suddenly said, shocking me. I pondered for a moment, not finding any memory of it.
"No, I don't think so."
McGarty took a sip from his mug, closing his eyes as he drank in whatever ale he purchased from the barkeep. "I was in Solaris, there for the celebration." He humphed as he remembered that day. "A large festival it was. Dancing, music, alcohol." He held his mug in the air, swishing around the amber liquid inside of it. "It was a time when a young man could let go and feel free of worry. But that's where I found out my life would change forever." He sat his mug down on the counter, raising a finger to the barmaid. Malvolia took the empty mug and began pouring him another drink.
"I had never felt a feeling such as the one where I knew one of those stones was mine. It called to me, like a breeze whispering through the trees and the sun beaming through the leaves. I felt connected to that stupid little stone, so when I went over to where they were presenting the stones, one of them glowed when I was near." She placed a mug in front of McGarty, side-eyeing him slightly with a crooked stare. Her last Inn burned to the ground with her husband inside. She barely made her escape, but she would always have the scar on her face to remember that day. Widowed and unmarried, she was also alone in this Inn with no other company than a drunk full of tales and a curious girl with a taste for adventure.
"Green for Dreo. I was bonded to the earth. That was over a hundred years ago." He finished his story, and I had to contain my sarcastic tone in my response.
"You're not that old," I laughed softly.
He made a hmph sound, "I sure don't look it, do I?" He sounded serious, and I had to remind myself that he was a delirious drunk.
"It is my curse," McGarty finished as he took a sip from his new drink. He sighed in contentment, hanging his head over the mug. "I hope you enjoy yourself, kiddo."
I patted Mr. McGarty on the back, bidding him a farewell and a promise to return with my own story to tell him. Stepping out onto my village's soil, I made my way back to my family's cottage where they were packing up the horses and buggy. I placed a gentle hand on my horse's neck, scratching underneath her mane. Nickering, she nudged my shoulder with her nose, scratching me with her lips.
Laughing softly, I shook my head. "You greedy girl. I don't have any treats right now, so you'll have to wait." Her tail swished behind her, smacking away at the flies accumulating on her back. Her patterned coat twitched every time a fly would land back on her.
"Are you ready to go, Navidean?" My dad asked me as he finished attaching the horses to the carriage.
Nodding my head, I replied. "I'm packed. I'm just waiting on you guys."
"Someone's excited," My mother laughed as she exited the cottage with a large armful of blankets.
I shrugged, feigning my interest in our travels. "I've never been outside of Acrine before."
"Well we better not keep this one waiting too long," Dad said from beside Mom. "She's going to explode if we don't get moving soon." His eyes crinkled in a teasing manner.
I faked a laughed and grabbed ahold of my bag sitting beside a fence post. I put on Zenera's blanket so I would be more comfortable riding her and mounted her as she kneeled on the ground for me.
"How was Mister McGarty today?" Mom asked as my horse stood under me, scratching at Zenny's neck. Her eyes closed shut in contentment.
"He was good. I finished that book he gave me." I adjusted my seat on Zenny. "Did you know he found his stone in Solaris? It was during one of the festivals."
Mom frowned slightly, furrowing her eyebrows. "I didn't know that. But that was probably before I was even alive."
I nodded in agreement, remembering how old Mr. McGarty really was.
"Ready?" Dad asked as my younger brothers, Chay and Keaton, climbed onto their own horses.
"Ready." We all said at once.