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This is backstory for that dragon-on-dragon/rider-on-rider story I wrote. This was initially supposed to be a quick flashback at the start of that story to setup the characters, explaining that Tanya was the rider of Jurantis, and explaining that Steffon/Vale were the dragon rider combo who recruited them. However, in the end I couldn't stop writing and this segment grew long enough to become its own story, so I cut it out and let it grow separately. It's still in early draft phase because the initial character and worldbuilding setup is complete, but the plot has only just kicked off and does not have a satisfactory arc or conclusion.

In the end I decided not to bother finishing this story—not because of lack of inspiration, but because it was growing too long. Not that I dislike long stories (quite the opposite, in fact), but I don't really want to invest too much effort in what was, at heart, fan-fiction. If I am going to all the effort of creating likeable characters and an interesting plot, I don't like the idea of the last element—the worldbuilding—just being borrowed from another author.

Bearing that in mind, I really like some of the character interaction here, so I've decided to upload this unfinished story as-is. If you only read my stories for the sex, then there isn't much of that here. However, if you like my other stories for their characters or dialogue, I hope you'll get some kicks out of this draft. Enjoy.

Years ago, Tanya Booker had been nothing more than lanky young adult whose prospects at life where either becoming a librarian like her mother, or becoming a librarian like her father. Tanya had never expected more than that, and she’d made peace with the idea of having a nice, predictable, and very mundane life. Keeping archive records for the Broddring Empire was a respectable public sector job, and she would likely never even have to leave her home town of Eoam.

But then one day the town had become filled with excitement as news spread about the imminent arrival of a dragon and rider pair, coming to recruit fresh blood to swell the ranks of the dragon riders. It was a long-held tradition for dragon eggs to be ferried across the countryside from nation to nation, and through cities, villages, and all manner of settlements so that the eggs could be touched and the unhatched dragons contained within could judge if they had found someone worthy to be their rider. So of course everyone in the town had gotten excited over the idea of gaining immortality, arcane power, and all the other nonsense that went along with linking your soul to a huge, winged, fire-breathing, magical creature.

Tanya hadn’t bothered to attend the arrival ceremony when the dragon rider had landed in town square, nor had she bothered to join the queue to touch the dragon eggs. It had seemed like a waste of time to her. Of all the tens of thousands of people from all across the empire who touched the eggs, what were the chances that she would be the one who could actually attract the attention of a yet-unhatched dragon?

On the other hand, all her friends had thought it was tremendous fun queuing up hours just to hope for a chance at becoming something greater—a protector of the land, a healer for the injured, and a guardian for the weak—a dragon rider. Mostly out of peer pressure, Tanya had finally been persuaded to go touch the eggs on the last day before the dragon rider packed things up and left to go to the next destination on his route. By now most of the excitement had died down, so fortunately she didn’t have to queue for too long. Tanya had scribbled her name down on a logbook, and then a clerk had ushered her into the tent where she would got her chance to become a dragon rider by touching the dragon eggs!

The eggs looked like rocks—very boring rocks. There were three of them, and they all resembled ovals made of hard but immensely smooth material coloured a pale white. Tanya had tapped a finger on each of the three eggs in turn, and then she’d shrugged her shoulders and decided that the whole thing had been vastly overhyped. The eggs were each about as long as her arm from fingertip to elbow, but they didn’t glow, or hum with magic, or even feel warm to the touch. It was a rather anticlimactic experience.

Tanya had politely bowed a quick curtsy to the dragon rider who was sitting on a chair by the side (despite supposedly being immortal and all-powerful, he looked bored), and then she’d left the tent to go get something for lunch. The very next day, the rider had boarded his dragon and flown off. And that was that.

Tanya went back to helping her parents sort and document archive records, and life returned to normal until a few days later when she was rudely awakened in the middle of the night by members of the Eoam town guard pounding on the house door. Despite this obviously being a ridiculous hour to do things, the guards had insisted that Tanya was immediately required for urgent (but classified) business. Faced with the prospect of coming willingly or possibly being arrested, Tanya decided to go quietly and see what the hell was going on.

When Tanya reached the centre of Eoam, the guards brought her not to the town hall but to the small inn that was directly beside it. In the front lobby of the inn she found the mayor and the other town leaders waiting for her, along with the dragon rider, who had apparently returned instead of heading on to his next route. Surprisingly, the dragon rider’s dragon had squeezed its head through a window and was watching the proceedings. Even more surprisingly, when Tanya entered the room, she instantly found everyone staring at her as if she was now the centre of attention. “What have I done now?” Tanya wondered, but aloud she said nothing.

The hushed conversation in the room died down in an instant, and the dragon rider stepped forwards. For the first time Tanya took a proper look at the rider, taking in the sight of his well-fitted riding coat and his lean figure. A grey-coloured sword was strapped to his belt, with a large translucent gemstone embedded in the weapon’s hilt—the blade was not silvery grey like the lustre of polished metal, but instead a dark, unnatural grey that seemed to absorb almost all light. It was impossible to say how old the dragon rider was—his face held no wrinkles and his movements had a smooth grace, yet the rider commanded an aura which spoke of vast experience and wisdom. Even the town’s leaders seemed to respect and defer to this man who physically appeared to be a mere fraction of their age. “Tanya Booker, daughter of Barakis and Felanor?” he asked, his gaze fixed on her. His voice was accented with the clipped, precise, and faintly impatient tones of someone from the central cities of the empire.

Tanya glanced to her parents, then to the town elders, then even to the guards who were standing at the side of the room. Everyone except her seemed to have an awestruck but excited look, as if they were on the verge of witnessing something great. She, on the other hand, still had no idea what was going on. “Uh…yes?”

“You have been judged and found worthy. Follow me, please.” The rider beckoned to her, and then he snatched up a lantern from the front desk before heading to a side door that led out of the inn.

Feeling a hand on her shoulder, Tanya turned around to find her father overcome with emotion. Joy, sorrow, pride, and more—it was hard to identify exactly which emotion had lead this normally stoic man to reach a handkerchief to wipe his eyes dry. “So it is to be you! Tanya…my sweet child. I…I have always known you were special. Destined for something extraordinary…”

Tanya almost snorted with ridicule at this suggestion that she was somehow destined. “Really? Based on what? I’ve always tried very hard to be ordinary.”

Her mother laughed softly, then she pulled both Tanya and her father together into a quick hug. “Go on, daughter! Go be ordinary then. But don’t keep that dragon rider waiting. You know what happens now.” Her two parents smiled warmly and stepped back, and all of a sudden Tanya felt terribly isolated and lonely. In the back of her head she was vaguely aware of what was happening, but everything seemed surreal, as if this was but a dream. Her mother had been correct—Tanya did know what was supposed to happen now, even if mentally she was still in denial.

The dragon rider was waiting by the doorway, and he led Tanya down a corridor. They stepped out of the inn and onto the road behind the building, and suddenly they were herself face to face with the dragon rider’s dragon, who had pulled its head out from the window.

“My name is Steffon, and this is Vale,” said the rider, gesturing towards the dragon. Even though the beast was only partially lit by a street lamp, Tanya could see that the dragon was huge, with dark grey scales all over and a series of horns or spikes running down its spine. It was easily larger than several horses put together, although most of this size was from the broad pair of wings on its back, resembling the folded sails of a ship. Yet even for all its size, the dragon looked slender and agile (just like Steffon, Tanya mused), and the tip of its long tail was slowly swishing from side to side.

“Oh. It’s…nice to meet you,” Tanya said slowly. “Wow. Dragons are way more impressive up close.”

For the first time since she had met him, Steffon broke into a grin, and in that moment he could easily have passed off as someone only a couple of years older than her. Of course, as a rider he didn’t age, so he was probably a hundred years old or something. “Vale says it’s nice to meet you too. She thanks you for the compliment, and adds that she would look even more impressive in the daylight.”

“I’d bet so,” Tanya agreed.

An appropriately large harness and saddle were placed on the dragon’s back. Steffon put down the lantern he was carrying; then he reached onto one of the saddlebags and carefully removed a rectangular wooden box that was about the width of his shoulders. The box had several handles and intricate carving that appeared to have been traced out with metal, forming flowing runes.

Steffon gentled placed the box down on the pavement and flipped open the lid, allowing Tanya to see what was contained within—one of the dragon eggs which she had touched just a few days ago, nestled in thick layers of cloth. Unpoetically, she wasn’t even able to tell which one of the three eggs it had been. But as she watched, Steffon carefully lifted the egg from its box, holding it firmly with two gloved hands. “Take it. This is to be your responsibility now,” he said, offering it to her.

Tanya shook her hands to try and get some feeling back into her fingers; there was a chill in the air, and she was wearing her coat but no gloves. However when she tried to take the egg, Steffon didn’t let go. “Are you holding it?” he asked.

“Uh, yes,” Tanya said.

Steffon still didn’t let go. Now his gaze was all intense and serious, which just made Tanya nervous. She’d liked him better when he was smiling. “Don’t just say yes so casually. This is a major transfer of responsibility. Say it fully, please.”

“It fully, please?” Tanya repeated, without thinking about the words she was saying.

Steffon drew a sharp breath through clenched teeth. “That’s not what I meant.” Unlike her rider, Vale made a huffing noise and snorted an amused puff of smoke from her nostrils.

“Sorry. It’s the middle of the night and I’m half asleep! Can’t we do this major responsibility transfer thing in the morning?” Tanya protested.

“Unfortunately, we cannot. Much as I would prefer to be in bed and asleep right now, dragon hatchlings listen to no one.” In spite of his statement, Steffon took the egg and placed in back in its box on the floor. He stood up and reached into his riding coat to take out a small metal flask, which he passed to Tanya. “Take a sip of this. It should wake you up.”

Tanya took the flask and removed the cap. She cautiously drank a small sip, and the liquid seemed to burn in her mouth and throat as she tried to swallow it down. It took all her effort not to cough and spit it all out. “Mmf! What…what is this stuff?”

“It’s called Faelnirv. Elvish liquor. It’s expensive stuff, but gives lots of energy. We’re supposed to use it only if the mission calls for it.” Steffon took back his flask and drank a sip of his own, then he emptied the rest of the flask into Vale’s open jaws, giving her what probably equated to a dragon’s sip. “However, if you drop your dragon’s egg I shall have to kill myself from shame, so I think this qualifies as an appropriate use.”

Despite it all, Tanya still couldn’t believe that a dragon rider was openly conversing with her as if they were equals, or would soon be such. “My dragon’s egg?”

“Yes. This thing.” Steffon bent down and picked up the egg with both hands. Once again he extended it to Tanya and said, “This is to be your responsibility now. Let’s try this again—Tanya Booker, are you holding it?”

Tanya reached out with both hands and carefully held the egg. It felt no different than it had a few days ago. Under her touch the shell felt smooth like marble, yet also neutral in temperature—not cold, but also not warm. “I am holding it.”

“Then the responsibility passes to you.” Steffon slowly released his grip and took a step back. “Hold it well, for you are carrying a life in your hands.”

Swallowing nervously, Tanya wished that her hands weren’t quite so cold. Her fingers felt numb as she gripped the dragon egg, but she was scared to hold it too tightly in case she somehow cracked it. “Is this your egg? I mean—is this your dragon’s egg?” she asked.

Steffon returned the lid to the empty box and slid it back onto his dragon’s saddlebags. “Are you asking if Vale laid that egg?” He let out a short barking laugh. “Haha. Gods, no! We’re just the couriers, and Vale’s way too young to be making eggs. Not that she couldn’t, just that the elders don’t quite approve of romps.” Tanya watched the dragon rider as he worked, and suddenly Vale winked an eye at her. After a moment’s hesitation, Tanya winked back at the dragon.

“I’ll tell you about the lineage of your dragon later, after it’s hatched,” Steffon continued. He stood up and headed back inside the inn, and Tanya followed him, clutching the egg to her chest. Just before the entered the doorway, she saw Vale stick her head back through an open window.

They re-entered the main lobby where her parents, the town elders, and the guardsmen were waiting. Despite the late hour, it seemed like even more people had turned up to see what was going on—some of them were travellers, while some of them were townspeople who rented accommodation at the inn.

All the conversation died down to quiet murmurs as people noticed their presence, but Steffon just strolled across the room without saying anything. Walking past a table, he snatched up a plate filled with what looked like flat squares of dried meat. Tanya had assumed this was a plate of refreshments for all the people waiting around, but it seemed like no one had touched the food.

Carrying the plate of meat and the lantern, Steffon headed past the front desk and down the corridor to where the inn had lodging. As Tanya trailed him, she could feel the gaze of everyone else watching her closely, especially taking in the sight of the egg she was carrying. Here she was following this dragon rider with his jewelled sword and his arrogant strut, but she felt far more affinity for all her townspeople than she did for some strange man who she barely knew. Again she felt a surge of loneliness, but her parents smiled warmly at her and she tried to look brave for them.

At one of the vacant rooms, Steffon kicked the door open. He put the plate of meat down on the desk at the side of the room, followed by the lantern he was carrying. The flickering light cast long wavering shadows on the walls.

Tanya used her foot to gently push the room door shut behind them. Idly it occurred to her that she was now all alone in a bedroom with a stranger, but she had never really cared for staying virtuous. Nevertheless, at this point she wasn’t even thinking of Steffon in such a manner—he wasn’t a man, he was a dragon rider.

“As I said before, hatchlings wait for no one.” Steffon pulled out the only chair in the room and sat down with a sigh. “It’s just bad luck that your dragon decided to hatch in the middle of the night.”

Tanya carefully placed the dragon egg down on the wooden desk, though she kept one hand on it to stop it from rolling. Steffon was already sitting in the only chair in the room, so she just stayed standing. “My dragon? Are you…sure about that? I don’t exactly think I’m dragon rider material. Could there be some sort of mistake?”

“It’s not about whether you think you’re dragon rider material; it’s about whether your dragon thinks you’re dragon rider material, and clearly they do. There has been no mistake about this. You are to become Shur’tugal—dragon rider.” Steffon leaned back in his chair and put his boots up on the desk. Yawning, he placed his hands behind his head and closed his eyes. “Admittedly I’m not the best at spellwork, otherwise I would have spotted that the egg had started the hatching process before I left Eoam, and I wouldn’t have had to rush back here to deliver your dragon to you. But yes, I’m now sure that the egg has started to hatch, and I’m extra sure it started when you touched it. Vale double-checked my calculations. She’s much better at magic than I am.”

Perhaps it was the lateness of the night, but Tanya felt that this dragon rider wasn’t behaving very much like how she’d imagined a rider would act. From all the stories of riders being legendary warriors and wise scholars, she had always imagined a rider would be a bit less…casual. “You’re not very good at magic? Aren’t you supposed to be, well, a dragon rider?”

Steffon opened one eye and stared lazily at her. He pulled off his right glove and pointed his finger towards the ceiling. “Brisingr.” Out of nowhere, fire suddenly burst from his index finger, forming what looked like a candle flame above his fingertip. He waved his hand around, and the flame seemed to trail behind and follow his extended finger, before jumping from fingertip to fingertip. “I resent that assertion. What would you know about magic, anyway?”

Tanya didn’t even blink. She raised her own right hand and snapped her fingers. “Brisingr.” Instantly a flame appeared over her own fingertip.

Steffon’s eyes went wide and he almost toppled out of the chair, before barely managing to regain his balance. The flame he was playing with instantly winked out in a puff of smoke as he grabbed the table to stabilize himself. He stared disbelieving at Tanya’s spell, speechless for about a dozen seconds until he finally found his voice. “Huh! That’s… What? How did you…? But I…I thought you were a librarian?”

“I’m an apprentice librarian,” Tanya corrected. As she controlled her spell, the flame danced around her hand before vanishing in an instant. “The Library of Eoam specializes in magical artefacts and texts, especially the study of wild magic. My parents are both magicians, and so am I.”

Steffon frowned and took a sheet of paper out from one of his coat pockets. Since Tanya was, as she had just said, an apprentice librarian, she could recognize the paper as a copy of one of the records that the town kept on everyone who lived on the island of Eoam. Still frowning, Steffon slowly looked between the paper and her. “This record…never mentions that you’re a magician. All magicians have to be registered on the mage’s list, per order of the high queen.”

Tanya didn’t know if she ought to laugh or sigh. She tried to fold her arms, but she had to immediately unfold them so that she could stop the dragon egg from rolling across the desk. “Eoam is under the territorial jurisdiction of the sovereign nation state of Surda, which, as I guessing you maybe don’t know, has different laws from the majority of the empire. In Surda we set the age of full adulthood at twenty-three years old; and since magicians only have to register when they become adults, my record wouldn’t mention that I’m a magician since I’m twenty-two.”

“Oh…” Steffon frowned at the record paper, then he stared at the wall and frowned at that, and finally he frowned at Tanya. “Well! This is embarrassing. Are you hiding any more secrets I should know about?”

“It’s not a secret that I can use magic; everyone in town knows that I’m the daughter of two magicians. You just never asked,” Tanya retorted. This dragon rider wasn’t living up to the expectations created by the legends of the dragon riders. Certainly her initial impression of Steffon possessing vast experience and knowledge was quickly being disproved, yet inversely this seemed to make him more relatable. He was still a dragon rider, but now he wasn’t some ancient, all-knowing being.

Steffon rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Never mind; we can talk more in the morning. For now, let’s just stay focused on the important things. Listen up. Your dragon will begin hatching any moment now—in fact, I’m surprised the egg hasn’t already begun to crack. You don’t need to help it out of the shell, just let it do its thing until the hatchling is completely free. After your dragon has hatched, just feed it this meat. Once it’s eaten its fill, it’ll probably go to sleep, and you can too. I’ll leave you two alone and tell the town people and the guards not disturb you till morning. If something goes wrong and you need my help, I’ll be in the room just next door.”

Tanya nodded. “Ok.”

Steffon drummed his fingers against the desk and looked thoughtful. “What else, what else? Oh, right. The bond. So important…can’t forget that. Now, the first time you touch your dragon, you will form the dragon-rider bond linking your minds and souls. It’s a sacred magical pact forged in ancient times between the elves and the dragons, and later on also expanded to include us humans. Nowadays, even the dwarfs and the urgals can also become dragon riders because the spell was modified by the current head of the riders at the end of the Great War—” Steffon suddenly paused midsentence. “Do you know all this already?”

“Some of it,” Tanya admitted. Working in a library, she had read a considerable amount of history books—especially since the Eoam Library was a library of magic, and dragons and their riders were the most powerful magic users in existence. Nevertheless, there were undoubtedly many things she didn’t know. “I know about how the tyrant king was overthrown in the last war, and a little bit about how magic works, but I don’t know much about the dragon riders themselves.”

Steffon scratched his chin, but he didn’t have a beard so Tanya didn’t know why he bothered with the gesture. “Ok then. Long story short—your dragon hatches, you touch it. Congratulations, you are now a dragon rider. I recommend you make sure your first point of contact is your dominant hand.”

“Why so?”

Steffon turned his right hand upwards so that Tanya could see his open palm. A whitish mark was visible, resembling a faint spiral that almost seemed to be glowing. “This big silvery mark will appear on your body wherever you first touch your dragon; it is the conduit through which magic flows, and the mark of the sacred bond between two souls. It’s called the gildway insignia.”

As a magician, Tanya already knew that this was a mispronunciation—the correct term was ‘gedwëy ignasia’, which translated to ‘shining palm’ in the ancient language of magic. But she chose not to interrupt Steffon.

“Now since dragon riders are nicknamed ‘Argetlam’ or ‘silver palm’, it’s tradition to have the mark on your palm. But that’s cosmetic and doesn’t really matter; your dragon will link to you regardless,” he continued. “Also, the actual process of forming the bond might sting a little. Try not to scream too loudly or the guards outside might think you are being attacked by your dragon, which doesn’t make for a very good impression.”

“Will it really hurt that much?” Tanya asked.

“It varies from rider to rider. Some people say it feels like boiling oil burning through your veins, others say it’s more like sticking your hand in cold water. For me personally it felt like the time I touched an electric eel.”

It was impossible for Tanya not to get curious from that last statement. “You’ve touched an electric eel?”

“Yes of course, but that’s a story for another day. Non-urgent questions can wait till the morning.” Steffon pointed both his index fingers towards Tanya. “Right now we’re talking about you and your dragon. Any questions?”

Tanya stared at the dragon egg resting on the desk, yet she couldn’t seem to think up any questions. There was just so much she didn’t know that she wasn’t even sure where to begin, but she did have one particular suspicion she could clarify. Steffon had mentioned in passing that Vale was a relatively young dragon, which would logically imply that Steffon was a dragon rider who was really as young as he looked, not just someone who had been kept youthful by magic. “I’ve heard that the dragon riders have ranks, and that only the elder riders are put in charge of transporting dragon eggs and recruitment. Are you an elder?”

Steffon was silent for a moment, his face unreadable. “That is not an urgent question. I will see you in the morning.” Then he got to his feet and left Tanya alone in the room.

Tanya waited for a few seconds, then she walked towards the door and turned the lock. The lock was a simple mechanism that could easily be defeated by a lock pick, let alone magic, so Tanya put a spell on it that would hold it shut unless she said the counter-spell. “Waíse huildr,” she muttered, and a faint shimmer of light briefly covered the lock. Her quick ward wouldn’t stop a determined or experienced magician (such as, just for a not-so-random example, a dragon rider), but it would at least warn her if someone tried to unlock the door.

Immediately after placing the spell, Tanya wondered why she had even bothered—did she actually suspect that someone might sneak up on her? Perhaps it was just paranoia, but her whole situation still didn’t feel real. Just a few hours ago she had gone to bed thinking that life would continue as it always had, but now she was somehow supposed to become a dragon rider.

Before she could contemplate life any further, Tanya spotted a flicker of movement out of the corner of her eye and she realized the dragon egg had begun to roll towards the edge of the desk. By making a panicked lunge, she managed to grab the egg before it slipped off the desk.

Tanya decided that trying to worry about the future could wait until tomorrow. Her best course of action was just to takes things as they came. She sat down on the chair, which was still faintly warm from where Steffon had been sitting.

So now she needed to wait for the dragon egg to hatch. A quick examination of the egg’s surface revealed no signs of any cracks or dents, and Tanya couldn’t even hear anything when she pressed her ear against the shell. She almost wondered if this was all some ridiculously elaborate prank, but there was no way she had imagined meeting Vale.

The desk wasn’t perfectly flat and there wasn’t anything she could prop the egg against to ensure it wouldn’t roll. It might have been possible to use both the plate of meat and the lantern, but Tanya wasn’t sure if the heat from the lantern would cause the egg to get too warm. Leaving the egg on the floor seemed demeaning, so her only option was to place it on the bed.

Tanya put the egg on the bed and sat back down on the chair. To keep herself entertained she looked through the record sheet which listed information about her, which Steffon had left behind, but it was just simple information about where she lived and who her family members were. Leaving the paper on the table, Tanya went to go sit on the bed beside the egg. Minutes seemed to tick by with nothing at all happening, and eventually she decided to remove her coat and kick off her boots. The room was warm and the bedding smelled fresh. Tanya leaned back on the bed’s headboard with her legs crossed, still staring at the egg and waiting for something to happen, but it didn’t crack, or rock, or even emit the slightest sign of life. Perhaps Steffon had been mistaken after all, and even come tomorrow morning the egg would still be unhatched.

After a few more minutes, Tanya took the egg and nestled it in blankets and her coat so that it wouldn’t roll off the bed. She lay back and straightened out her legs, with the egg by her side and wrapped in cloth, and in less than a minute she was fast asleep.

When Tanya next awoke, the lantern had run out of oil and gone dark. The inn room was lit only by moonlight streaming in through the window, but something must have woken her up. “Garjzla,” she whispered, and a ball of red light materialized beside her head. She was briefly blinded by her own spell, but her eyes adjusted quickly and Tanya was then confronted with a truly astonishing sight.

Standing on her chest was a dragon hatchling.

So it hadn’t been a mistake—the egg had hatched. Tanya stared at the hatchling, unsure of what to do. The hatchling stared back at her. Neither of them moved.

“Moi Garjzla,” Tanya whispered, when she finally managed to get her mouth working. Her magical ball of light changed from red to white, and in this improved illumination she got a better look at the tiny dragon.

The hatchling looked much like how Vale had looked, albeit far smaller and lacking the spines that had been running down Vale’s back. The dragon (her dragon?) was the size of a small cat, but it hardly seemed to weight anything as it stood on her. Its wings appeared vastly oversized compared to the rest of its body, so much so that they seemed to overflow from its back instead of furling up neatly. From the magical light Tanya had summoned, it was clear that the hatchling had an interesting colouration—its hide was dark purple with vertical streaks of black, like an elegant royal dye that had been applied too thickly in certain locations.

Tanya didn’t dare to move for fear of scaring the dragon. “He—hello,” she said, wondering if it could understand her speech, or at least her tone. The hatchling tilted its head, and Tanya wondered if it was just as curious about her as she was curious about it. Both of them stayed almost completely motionless—the only movement was Tanya’s breathing, which made the hatchling move up and down slightly since it was standing on her chest. Its serpentine neck moved up and down, keeping its head perfectly still and its gaze fixed right on her. The hatchling glanced at her magical light briefly and its pupils constricted, then it turned its gaze back to her.

Finally the purple-scaled hatchling seemed to grow impatient when nothing had happened for about a minute. “Eek!” it squeaked, revealing a mouth filled with tiny white teeth. It turned its head to look around the room before returning its gaze to Tanya. Slowly the hatchling started moving towards her head, as if it was trying to get a closer look at her face.

Just at that moment, Tanya broke out of her shocked paralysis and remembered what Steffon had said to her about what she needed to do in this moment. “This big silvery mark will appear on your body wherever you first touch your dragon,” he had said, and the full ramifications of this fact abruptly occurred to her.

“Wait, not on my face!” Tanya exclaimed. She jerked her head and shoulders backwards, but this sudden movement resulted in her sliding off the side of the bed. Flailing her arms, she only managed to grab the blanket which just slid off the bed with her. “No, no, no…” As she fell to the floor, the dragon hatchling smoothly hopped off her chest and onto the bed instead. Tanya had the wind knocked out of her as she landed hard on her back, hitting the carpeted yet still painfully solid floor. “Oof! Oww…”

The dragon hatchling sat down on its haunches and stared from its perch on the bed. Tanya had the distinct impression that she was being judged. “Don’t…don’t…you…give me that look…” she gasped. “It’s rude to wake someone up…by standing over them and glaring…”

“Eek,” chirped the hatchling in reply.

Tanya pushed herself up into a sitting position. “It’s not my fault. You’re the one who decided that I ought to be a dragon rider anyway. If you don’t want me to be your rider, just say the word—I’ll go back to bed and you can go put yourself back in your shell.” Sitting on the floor, her eye level was at approximately the same height as the dragon hatchling. “Let’s do this again properly.” Slowly she raised her right hand and extended it towards the hatchling, trying to get it to touch her palm.

In response, the hatchling jerked its head backwards away from her outstretched hand. The tiny dragon reared up on its hindlegs and swung its wings around wildly. “Eek! Ah-eek! Neek!” it squealed, and then it fell backwards on the bed, landing on its back with limbs all sprawled out. It took Tanya a full seven seconds of pondering this curious behaviour before it occurred to her that she was being mocked.

“Hilarious. Absolutely hilarious.” Tanya glared at the tiny dragon, but she kept her hand raised and nodded towards her open palm. “Are we going to do this or what?”

Finally deciding to take things more seriously, the dragon rolled back to its feet and approached the edge of the bed again. With the look of a king bestowing knighthood on some lowly peasant, it carefully bumped its nose against Tanya’s palm.

Tanya had been bracing herself for a shock, but instead there was…nothing. The hatchling’s nose felt warm and its scales smooth, but there was no rush of energy to indicate the formation of a dragon to rider bond. She tried pushing her palm forward slightly in case the point of contact just wasn’t large enough, but still nothing. Tanya stared at her palm just to check, but there was no sign of any gedwëy ignasia.

The hatchling opened its tiny jaws and started gently gnawing on her fingers—perhaps it was curiously exploring her hand, or more likely it was just feeling hungry. Tanya pointed towards the desk, where the plate of dried meat squares was waiting. “There’s food there if you want.”

“Eek.” The purple-scaled dragon turned to look at the table, then it climbed onto Tanya’s hand and stared at her with an expectant look. “Eek.” Its claws felt like small pinpricks on her skin.

The small creature seemed much lighter than it should have been, but Tanya supposed this was because a dragon needed to be lightweight enough to fly. She carried the dragon over to the table, where it eagerly began snapping up the squares of dried meat.

Meanwhile, Tanya continued to prod and poke at the dragon’s flank with her hand, trying to get her gedwëy ignasia to form. Finally she voiced her concerns aloud. “This isn’t right. There’s supposed to be a flash of magic or something, followed by a silvery mark on my hand. Otherwise we aren’t a dragon-rider pair—we’re just a dragon and a girl who happen to be sharing a room.”

As expected, the hatchling didn’t say anything in return. It had already scarfed down about three-quarters of the meat on the plate. After swallowing another scrap of meat, it picked up the largest piece of meat in its mouth and walked up to Tanya. “Ek?”

Tanya took the piece of dried meat from the hatchling’s mouth and tore it into two smaller, more manageable pieces. But when she tried to pass the meat back, the hatchling refused to take it. “Eek.” It nodded its tiny head towards her, which made Tanya realize that it hadn’t been asking for help—it had been offering her some food.

“Oh, thanks. But I’m supposed to be the one feeding you, not the other way around.” Tanya sniffed at the meat. It smelled vaguely of flavoured spice. “I appreciate the thought, but I think we have bigger problems to worry about than food. Where’s my dragon rider mark? Is there something wrong with the magic? Are we bonded or not?”

“Eek.” The hatchling squeaked again more insistently, and sat down on its haunches with a determined look. “Eek!” it demanded.

“Alright, fine.” Tanya put the dried meat in her mouth and chewed it. The meat had a soft texture, and it tasted both sweet and salty at the same time. “This isn’t bad, actually.” She tried to take another piece of meat from the plate, but the hatchling suddenly reached out and used one of its front paws to push her hand down onto the table. “What now…?” Tanya began to ask, but then the hatchling put both its front paws to tug on her hand and flip it upright. Her left hand, not the one she’d tried to touch the hatchling with.

Sure enough, there it was—a silvery, spiralling mark was visible right in the middle of her left palm. It was a gedwëy ignasia—the mark of a dragon rider. Tanya used her other hand to rub at the mark, but her skin felt no different from usual even though there was now a clear discolouration. “Huh! Where did that come from? I suppose you must have touched my palm while I was still asleep,” she guessed.

The dragon released her hand and walked back to the plate of meat, where it resumed eating what was left of the food.

Tanya was still staring at her palm and coming to grips with the realization that she was now a dragon rider. “But Steffon said that there was supposed to be some sort of sensation when the bond first formed? Maybe I slept through it? Or maybe it didn’t really affect me so much since I’m already a magician? I have got to admit, this is pretty strange. Nagz reisa!” At her command the blanket lifted from the floor and returned to the bed, but simultaneously the mark on her left hand glowed faintly as she used her magic. “My hand glows when I use magic now. Haha, wow! How odd.”

Despite her curiosity about what else had changed, Tanya couldn’t suppress a yawn. “Are you done eating? I’m kind of tired…” Seconds later, her dragon gave up on the last few scraps of dried meat and also yawned. Tanya put her right hand flat on the table, and just like before, the hatchling leapt onto her arm and let her carry it over to the bed.

Eggshell fragments were scattered on one side of the bed, but Tanya just pushed them all onto the floor. As she reclined on the mattress, the hatchling snuggled up against her side so she let her hand rest on the dragon’s warm back. That simple contact felt surprisingly reassuring. I’m a dragon rider now, and this is my dragon! Who would have thought? Tanya thought to herself. After yawning yet another time, she ended the spell creating her magical ball of light and the room plunged back into darkness. “So…it’s nice to meet you! My name’s Tanya…” she murmured, as her thoughts slowly grew incoherent.

Jurantis, said a faint voice in her head. It was the last thing Tanya heard before she slipped into the calm embrace of slumber.

Tanya wandered from dream to dream, floating through both imaginative fantasy and recalled memory but unable to tell one from the other. Everything mixed up and flowed into one large mess—thoughts, ideas, and situations rolling together endlessly. At first the dream might be vivid and real, only to suddenly shift into absurdity that could border on terrifying. Tanya remembered hugging a soft toy from her childhood, then suddenly she was surrounded by spinning knives that kept getting closer and closer, then without warning she was soaring through an open sky. Again and again she remembered and forgot.

When Tanya finally woke up, she found tears dripping from her eyes as she was struck with intense emotion that had already faded away with her dreams. She reached up and wiped her eyes quickly. It was disorientating to find that she wasn’t in her room and this wasn’t her bed—it took a few more seconds for her to slowly recall why she was here. Even her dreams couldn’t compete in absurdity with her sudden life change—she was a dragon rider now. Tanya glanced around, but the dragon hatchling was no longer leaning against her side. He had shifted in the night and was now lying above her head curled up into a ball, while Tanya’s feet were dangling off the edge of the bed.

Sunlight was pouring in through a crack between the curtains—the day was well underway. Tanya sat up and slid her feet to the floor. Normally she would usually wake up just before sunrise, her schedule like clockwork, but today she’d overslept by many hours. Her dragon was still fast asleep, so she tried to nudge his side. In the daylight, Tanya reaffirmed her earlier impression that the hatchling’s purple-scaled hide looked like someone had been trying to paint on a coat of purplish paint, only to put too much and leave faint dark streaks that ran vertically down his side.

“Jurantis? Wake up.” Then Tanya stopped. How did she know that his name was Jurantis? Come to think of it, how did she even know that the dragon was a he? She couldn’t remember where this information had originated from, yet innately she knew that it was true. She kept poking at the hatchling’s side insistently.

Go away, said the voice in her head. This time Tanya was wide awake and able to identify the source—no doubt at all, it was her dragon.

Just like any magician, Tanya had the ability to project her thoughts outwards. This power could be used for communication or even combat, but attempting to read or influence the thoughts of other people was strictly forbidden unless the situation was unequivocally hostile. Tanya had little practice with using her mental powers besides the few times she had tried (largely unsuccessfully) to chat with her family’s pet cat; either she lacked the skill to adequately focus her thoughts, or the feline just liked to ignore her.

However, probing out the mind of a housecat was leagues apart from being mentally linked with a dragon on a fundamental level—Tanya’s consciousness felt intertwined and twisted up with a new, alien presence. It was like there were no more barriers between her mind and the dragon’s, and communicating took hardly any effort at all. She could remember memories that hadn’t been there before—things that hadn’t and couldn’t have happened to her. Closing her eyes, Tanya tried to reach out and access Jurantis’s consciousness to see what her dragon was dreaming about.

And then she was flying.

Tanya found herself soaring across a vast forest of green, contrasted against a stunning backdrop of clouds brilliantly lit by the sun. Nothing in the world could compare with this incredible feeling of freedom—the sky belonged to her and there was nowhere she could not go. The wind felt wonderful as it rushed across her scales, and with every slow wingbeat she pulled herself even higher aloft the world…except that she didn’t have wings, so this was clearly impossible.

The world seemed to grow cloudy and immaterial as the dream began to fade away. Tanya was now sitting in an endless room of white in all directions with no ceiling or walls, and no furniture to fill the vast blank space. A tiny purple-scaled dragon was sitting on the floor beside her, but he unfurled his wings and tried to wrap them around his head. Stop ruining my dreams, he said. I was flying. I liked it.

“How are you dreaming?” Tanya asked. “How are you even talking? You were just hatched last night. How can you have all these memories?”

I don’t know. Let me fly.

The formless white space slowly receded and was replaced by a different scene; this time of towering coastal cliffs and rolling thunderclouds. Tanya looked down and found herself standing on the edge of a cliff, overlooking a churning sea as rolling waves pounded against the shore. “Wait, I know this place!” She recognized this memory—it was a hiking spot not too distant from her town of Eoam, where the island met the ocean. In the distance, one of the neighbouring islands was barely visible through the approaching storm. “This is one of my memories. I could actually go take you to see it—”

Out of nowhere, they were both yanked out of the dream and back into real life by the loud, violent, and unexpected sound of shattering glass. Tanya snapped her eyes open to see that Vale, Steffon’s dragon, had smashed one of the inn’s windows and stuck her head into the room. “What?!” Tanya exclaimed.

“Eeeek!” Jurantis squeaked loudly and immediately jumped up onto Tanya’s shoulder. He spread both his wings and hissed at the grey-scaled dragon who was many, many times his size. “Tisss!” Dragon! Big dragon! Big! He hissed again, then suddenly he folded his wings shut and began to lick his wing membranes clean, as if he was completely dismissing Vale as a possible threat. Rude! Interrupting my dreams. Tell the big rude one to go away, he said to Tanya.

“Hmmm.” Vale made a soft rumbling noise, and then Tanya heard the dragon speak using the same mental power which she’d been using to communicate with Jurantis. Good morning.

“What?! Good—good morning?!” Tanya sputtered, still feeling shocked by the sudden draconic intrusion into the room.

Vale tilted her head slightly. Actually it is not. It is good afternoon. Good afternoon to you, Argetlam, and to you, little one. My apologies for the interruption, but I was beginning to wonder if you two had died in your sleep.

“You could have asked someone to knock on the door! Or you could have just knocked on the window instead of destroying it!”

I did knock. That was a knock.

Tanya gestured incredulously at Vale, then at the remains of the smashed window. The dragon did not look at all apologetic.

I thought it would be less disturbing if I woke you up with the sound, instead of trying to reach your mind directly. Vale paused for a moment. You are a magician, aren’t you?

“I was, but now it seems I am a dragon rider too.” Tanya stood up and walked over, still carrying Jurantis on her shoulder. “Ikonoka!” she uttered, raising her hand and gesturing at the glass shards—her spell reformed the window pane into a solid whole.

Vale acknowledged the magic with an approving nod. She pulled her head back so that Tanya could put the glass pane back into its frame and open the window properly. I apologize for not speaking to you yesterday, but new riders usually take some time to get used to speaking with their thoughts. I did not realize that you were already a magician.

“Magician or not, I still feel like a fish out of water.” Tanya looked out the window. Vale was sitting just outside the inn, partially blocking the road with her bulk. Other than the large dragon, life seemed to be going on as usual in the town, but people walking by in the street soon stopped to stare at Tanya and the hatchling sitting on her shoulder. “Everyone’s staring at me.”

Of course they are. You are Shur’tugal—dragon and rider. Vale’s mental voice was quick but precise, sharing the smooth, neutral intonations of her rider’s spoken voice. Tanya briefly wondered if Steffon’s accent originated from his dragon’s manner of thinking, or if his dragon’s thought projections took after her rider’s speech accent; perhaps a mix of both. Stand tall and proud, for you have more power than any of these mere people could ever hope to even touch. One day in the future everyone in this town will have grown old and withered away, but not us. We will persist. It will have been but a miniscule flash of time compared to the long eternity.

Tanya swallowed. “I don’t think I’m ready for that.” There was something deeply unnerving about imagining herself remaining a youthful dragon rider while time passed on for everyone else in her home town. Her unease echoed across her mental link, and Jurantis nervously shuffled his wings on his back.

You are adapting magnificently. The fact that you already possess magical power gives you a major advantage over average humans, on par with being an elf.

“An elf?”

An elf, yes. All elves can use magic; it runs through their blood, just as it does for us dragons. As a human, you are lucky that you already had the gift before you were chosen by your dragon.

All the while, Jurantis had been quietly listening in on Tanya’s thoughts and observing her conversation with Vale, but now he spread his wings. “Eep!” He made a chirping noise, and Tanya heard him trying to shout with his thoughts. My name is Jurantis!

When it seemed that Vale could not hear him, Tanya spoke on behalf of the hatchling perched on her shoulder. “Jurantis. His name is Jurantis.”

Vale turned her head to stare at the tiny dragon. Named already? Most hatchlings take a few weeks to begin speaking properly with their riders. Perhaps you are just as lucky as your rider, and your parents blessed you with many ancestral memories. On seeing Tanya’s confused expression, Vale elaborated further. Dragons are not born helpless and knowing nothing as you two-legged creatures are. We pass on the best of our knowledge to the strongest of our children, but also the weakest, so that they might both persevere. Little one, are you one of the strong ones or one of the weak, I wonder? Will you succeed or merely survive? Your egg was damaged when it first came to the riders, but the elders tried to make it whole and we carried it regardless, out of the faint hope that you might still be able to hatch. And see how our hope has been rewarded!

“Rrrr!” Jurantis made a soft rumbling noise that Tanya could tell was supposed to be a growl, but which ended up sounding like an adorable purr. I am not damaged! If I am weak then I will grow to become strong, but you will always be ugly! He tapped Tanya’s neck. Tell her that! Ugly! Scales like…grey…things. Like thunderclouds or the moon, but an ugly version.

Tanya reached up and gently tugged on Jurantis’s curled tail. “Jurantis says he will be strong.” She didn’t forward the rest of his comments to Vale.

We will see, but I think you are both doing very well already. As a human magician you already have a head start on your rider training. You have the advantage that you already know how to use magic, you already know how to throw or receive thoughts, and you already know the ancient language of power. You certainly put Steffon the spot yesterday when you suddenly revealed your magic like that. I found it most amusing. Few people have managed to fluster my rider.

Tanya grinned, and she felt Jurantis peering into her memories to recall how she’d first met the other rider. “That was just a simple little spell. I’m sure my magic hardly compares to the kind of expert spellwork which a trained dragon rider can do,” she said, trying to be modest.

Vale snorted. I would not be so certain of that. Undoubtedly you cannot hope to beat an elder rider, especially when your dragon is just a hatchling, but the gap in ability between a highly skilled mage and a less practiced dragon rider can be smaller than you might imagine. And Steffon is hardly the most…disciplined….of spellcasters. When I first chose him to become my rider he hardly knew anything of magic beyond superstition and rumour; and he was so worried about punishment that he tried to keep me a secret, as if I would let him do such a silly thing.

Punishment? Jurantis asked curiously, his offended state quickly forgotten.

Tanya asked the same question aloud. “Punishment? Why would Steffon be punished for becoming a dragon rider?”

Because he was not allowed to touch my egg, but he did so anyway, and so I chose him to be mine. Vale paused for a moment, her gaze briefly going distant. What’s this now? I hear the call of my rider… Steffon says I should stop gossiping away our life story and spreading false rumours about his magic competency or lack thereof. Also he wishes for me to inform you that it is already half-past afternoon, and that it is high time you got out of bed.

“I am out of bed, thanks to you,” Tanya muttered.

Vale appeared to take this as a compliment. Indeed. Steffon invites you to the inn’s eatery so that you might join us for an early dinner, or in your case, breakfast. There is much more we can discuss there, I think.

Jurantis poked Tanya’s neck with his nose. Breakfast sounds nice. I am hungry.

“Alright then, let’s go get food,” Tanya said.

Very well. I’ll see you in the eatery shortly. Vale bowed her head, then she stood up and headed towards the inn’s restaurant, which was on the opposite side of the building. The grey-scaled dragon chose to take the shortest route—leaping onto the top of the two-story building and walking across the roof, which caused the whole structure to shake.

Tanya pulled the window shut. She went to the bathroom to wash herself up, but the sight in the mirror made her stop. Crumpled clothes, plain face, brown hair, and a dragon perched on her shoulder. “Who is that girl in the mirror, I wonder…?” she muttered.

A flash of confusion ran across the mental tether as Jurantis considered this question. That is you. It is a…a… He paused and Tanya sensed her dragon searching through her vocabulary as he tried to locate the words to express himself. A reflection. That’s what it is.

Tanya reached out and let her fingers brush against the mirror. “I know. I just meant—who am I? I thought that I was an apprentice librarian, but now I’m supposed to be a dragon rider. Who am I, really?”

Jurantis got even more confused by this existential question. You are Tanya. You are my rider, I am your dragon. Now can we go get breakfast?

Tanya took a quick shower, and then she put Jurantis in the sink and rinsed off his scales. There were no spare clothes for her to change into, but she muttered a quick spell which dissipated much of the dust and odour which clung to her garments, and removed a few of the more visible creases.

With Jurantis once again perched on her shoulder, she left the room and headed to the eatery. Several people passed by in the hallway, both staff of the inn and guests, and they earned numerous curious stares. Tanya reached up and tugged on her dragon’s tail, which was partially curled around her left upper arm. I hope they are staring at you and not my crumpled clothes, she said, throwing her thoughts to her dragon. Jurantis bent his neck down and playfully snapped at her fingers.

When they arrived at the inn’s eatery, the establishment was more packed than usual for this time of day, despite it only being late afternoon and too early for dinner. Near one of the corners, Vale had stuck her head through an open window (as was apparently a habit of hers) and a table and several chairs had been moved closer so that Steffon could sit beside his dragon. It seemed like most of the eatery’s current patrons had come to curiously observe the dragon and rider, but no one dared to approach and there was a no man’s land worth of empty tables surrounding them.

Steffon was reading something on a sheet of paper. He nodded in approval when he noticed Tanya and Jurantis. “Greetings to you, Tanya Shur’tugal, and to your dragon.” As before, his voice had the smooth but impatient precision which was associated with the central cities of the empire.

“Greetings.” Tanya pulled out a chair and sat down opposite Steffon. “This is Jurantis.” Jurantis jumped off her shoulder and onto the table; he spun around, excitedly taking in the sights, sounds, and smells of the eatery.

“Yes, Vale mentioned that your dragon’s already chosen his name. Now that you two are finally awake, there are serious things we need to discuss. But first, the most important matter of all—we must order food.” Steffon raised a hand and gestured towards a waiter who appeared to have been waiting by the side and eagerly anticipating this moment.

The waiter rushed over to the table and bowed respectfully to all of the four of them in turn, even little Jurantis. “Argetlam! What an honour to have dragon riders in our restaurant! How might I be of service?” He put down four glasses and filled them from a jug of water. Then he tried to offer a menu to Steffon, but the dragon rider waved him off.

“Just give me whatever you recommend.”

“As you wish, Argetlam. The chef’s special for today is roasted sea bass and crab, freshly caught from the sea and seasoned with our unique recipe.”

“That’ll do. I’ll take one portion of that, and my dragon will take fifteen.”

“I…yes of course, Argetlam. Certainly.” The waiter turned and offered the menu to Tanya, but she just followed Steffon’s lead.

“I’ll have the same thing—the special,” she said.

“Eek!” Jurantis walked over and squeaked at the waiter, so after a brief hesitation the waiter also put a menu in front of the hatchling. Yes! I get to choose food? This is…amazing! Uh… Tanya felt the hatchling rifling through her mind so he could interpret the text, so she let Jurantis see her memories from visiting Eoam’s port and fisheries. He was not enthused on learning about the origins of seafood. Crab? What’s crab? That’s—oh that’s disgusting. Why are there so many legs? Four legs is the ideal amount, and having two legs is marginally acceptable, but not more than four. Ten is obviously absurd. What’s shrimp? Wow that’s even worse. Now the legs are all small and wriggling. How horrible. Eww.

Maybe you should just eat the fish that comes with my food, Tanya suggested.

What’s fish? How many legs does a fish have?

Fish don’t have any legs.

Excellent. I will have that then. Jurantis let out a satisfied chirp. “Mrr-erp..” He stuck his snout into the jug and started lapping at the water.

“Make my meal a double portion,” Tanya told the waiter, who quickly repeated their order before hurrying off to the kitchen.

“Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, let’s get down to business.” Steffon glanced down at the sheet of paper he’d been reading, then he extended his hand as if he was offering a handshake.

His grip felt warm and firm as Tanya took it, but instead Steffon flipped her hand upwards so that her palm was exposed. Since this was her right hand, her palm was empty. “Where’s your mark?”

“Oh. It’s on the other hand.” Tanya raised her left hand, exposing the gedwëy ignasia that marked her as a dragon rider. She considered explaining how Jurantis had marked her hand while she was still asleep, but that experience felt like something deeply personal; a moment that was shared between only her and her dragon.

Steffon took her left hand with his right, and just for that moment their gedwëy ignasias were mirrored. “You’re left handed?” he asked.

“No.”

“Fun choice, then.” Steffon released her hand and picked up a quill so he could make a small mark on his paper. “Next up… hmm… You said you dragon’s name was Jurantis, correct?” Tanya nodded, so Steffon leaned slightly closer and addressed the hatchling directly. “Happy birthday, Jurantis.”

Jurantis stopped drinking water and pulled his head out of the jug. Tanya! This Steffon person is speaking to me?! What should I say? Uh…tell him happy birthday too.

Tanya was glad to comply. “He says happy birthday to you too.”

“Thanks.” Taking the jug of water, Steffon refilled his own glass. “Jurantis, do you mind if I examine you? I’m supposed to check for hatching defects—malformed limbs, missing scales, fused wing membranes—that sort of thing.”

“Tss!” Jurantis hissed and backed away slowly. No! No one touches me! I’ll bite you! I am not defective! I am—AHH! The hatchling ended up walking off the edge of the table and tumbling into Tanya’s lap. Except my rider. My rider may touch me, he conceded. Vale snorted in amusement.

Tanya picked up her dragon and put him back on the table. “He doesn’t seem very comfortable with the idea.”

Steffon shrugged his shoulders. “Fine by me—you look healthy enough. That’s just one less thing I need to bother doing, and another item off the checklist.” He made another small mark on the piece of paper in front of him.

“You have a checklist of things to do for new riders?” Tanya asked, realizing what the piece of paper was. “May I see it?”

“Good idea. Let’s speed things up.” Steffon slid the paper across the table, followed by the quill pen he’d been writing with. “Just go ahead and tick off the things we can skip—I assume you already know the stuff about magic and how to throw your thoughts?”

“I know the basics, but I…uh…why is all the ink smudged?”

“Circumstances beyond my control.”

Tanya sniffed at the paper—it smelled of sea salt. “You…dropped this into the ocean?”

“We experienced some inclement weather while flying from the mainland back out to Eoam last night. There were strong crosswinds on final approach, so the checklist slipped out of my hand because we were kind of in a rush. In context, it’s just a piece of paper. These things happen.” Steffon shrugged his shoulders, and Tanya had to give him credit for at least being absolutely shameless about his mistake.

All the text was partially smudged from exposure to seawater, but the piece of paper was still clearly an itemized list with each item having a brief sentence, or sometimes even just a single scribbled word. The writing was in the common runes which were used by both humans and dwarfs, and Tanya managed to read it even through the smudging. “Transfer responsibility of the egg—that’s done. Gedwëy ignasia—yeah, I’ve got that. Explain the history and background of the dragon riders…?” Tanya looked up at Steffon.

“Dragon riders ride dragons and use magic. What more is there to say?” he replied.

“I…think there’s a bit more to it than that.”

“Alright, fine.” Sitting up straight, Steffon flipped his palm upwards so that his Gedwëy ignasia was visible. “Dragon riders are chosen from any and all of the four major races of Alagaësia; the elves, humans, dwarfs, and urgals. Every rider is bonded to a dragon. Together the dragon and rider serve as peacekeepers, arbitrators, scholars, healers, teachers, and so on. There is a hierarchy of four ranks. The highest ranked rider is the head of the dragon riders—he doesn’t do much. Below him are the elders, who are the most experienced and wise members of the order—they’re mostly responsible for teaching the younger riders, although sometimes they also carry out vitally important missions like safeguarding dragon eggs and recruiting new riders—such as you two.”

“So you and Vale are elders, then?” Tanya asked.

Steffon stopped, but Vale spoke up on behalf of her rider. No point hiding it—you would find out the truth soon enough. We are not elders; not even close. Fully ranked Shur’tugal who have completed their training are sent out to perform missions and tasks to serve the realm—as Steffon said, by being peacekeepers, wardens, judges, or whatever is required of us. We are thus. Less experienced than elders, but more so than apprentices.

Jurantis could hear what Vale was saying, even if the hatchling was still unable to speak with anyone except his own rider. What happens now? he asked, and Tanya voiced his question aloud.

“You are apprentice riders, the lowest rank,” Steffon said. “You will be taken to the rider stronghold for further training in physical, mental, and magical ability under the tutorage of an elder. Once your training is complete after a period of about a few years (give or take depending on how fast you learn) you will be considered a proper rider. Like Vale and I.” He patted Vale’s neck. “Go on, ask your questions. I can see you have questions.”

Tanya wondered if that meant she would not see her family again for several years. “Where is this rider stronghold? It’s not in the Broddring Empire is it?”

Vale spoke. The Shur’tugal maintain several consulates and outposts in the realms of all the races, but our headquarters resides on neutral ground. They call it Dras Fell Eldrvarya—the burning mountain city! Our home.

Steffon’s lips curled into a thin smile. “It’s built into the side of a volcano—a volcano fortress, impossible to reach except on dragonback and therefore completely impregnable. The ashen ground is rich in nutrients for farming and the updraft thermals make for easy soaring.”

“How long have you been a rider?”

That is synonymous with asking how old I am, Vale said. Steffon has been my rider for four and a half years, but the first three and a half of those years were spent in training.

Tanya turned to look at Vale, and she realized that the dragon was not wearing the saddlebags she’d been carrying previously. “What happened to the other two eggs—if you aren’t carrying them, who is taking care of them now?”

Jurantis’s egg was transported alone. The other eggs were merely painted rocks—decoys intended to make it difficult for any who might dare to steal the genuine one.

“If you said that rider recruitment was done by elders, how come you two were carrying his egg?”

Vale’s response was enigmatic. Situations change unpredictably and we adapt accordingly. Urgent matters arose, so we stood up to the responsibility.

“It’s a long story,” Steffon said, interrupting her. “It also concerns the…unfavourable origins of Jurantis’s egg. I don’t think Vale has told you the full background of your dragon? Some of the elders didn’t think his egg could even hatch due to the damage it had sustained.”

What!? I am not damaged! First the ugly grey one insults me, now the ugly two-legged one also insults me, Jurantis grumbled. Tanya! We must make an appropriate response to defend my honour. I will attack the grey one while you duel the skinny two-legged one.

Tanya wasn’t quite sure if Jurantis was joking, but she grabbed the tiny dragon anyway and held him in her arms. We will do no such thing. Neither of them is ugly, and I don’t think Steffon was insulting you. Do you know what he is talking about? What happened to your egg?

How would I know? I was inside it sleeping peacefully. Jurantis barred his teeth at Vale, and his tail swished from side to side. I still think we must take action to assert dominance, or they will think they are better than us.

Technically they do outrank us. They are fully ranked riders, while we are only apprentices.

I don’t care about ranks. Jump on the skinny one and pin him down until he begs for mercy. I bet you can make him scream. An apology would be nice—but if that is unfeasible, I will settle for his death instead. Meanwhile I will attack Vale—she is big, but she is also slow. Victory is assured.

No, Jurantis… Aloud, Tanya said, “What happened to his egg?”

“Hold that thought.”

Before they could continue the explanation, the waiter returned carrying their food. Steffon, Tanya, and Jurantis all got a plate of fish and crab each, while Vale got a platter that was large enough that it had to be carried by a team of waiters and placed on the neighbouring table. “Argetlam, I am proud to present you the best our chef has to offer! I hope this meal will be to your satisfaction,” proclaimed the waiter, with great pomp and enthusiasm.

They all started to eat their food. Jurantis refused to touch any crab or shellfish, so Tanya took his crab and gave him some of her fish in return. Having lived in Eoam (an island coastal town) for most of her life, she knew exactly how to eat all manner of seafood; she used a knife to cut open the exoskeleton of her crab so she could pick out the meat. But when Steffon tried the same thing, he lacked the proper technique and soon resorted to impatiently muttering out a spell which snapped open the crab’s shell. “Jierda!”

Vale simply bent her neck and ate her crabs whole—meat, exoskeleton, claws, legs and all—producing a dreadful crunching sound as she snapped down, and messing up her table with spilt sauce, meat, and vegetables. Tanya felt all the other patrons of the restaurant were staring at them, but certainly no one dared to approach the dragon or say anything. In fact, many people seemed to greatly enjoy the entertainment as Vale created a mess.

Despite his inexperience with eating seafood, Steffon ate at a hurried pace and was soon finished with his meal. Everything the rider did seemed to have an air of quick impatience, as if he was always in a rush for some unspecified reason. Jurantis finished soon afterwards, and Tanya could practically feel contentment radiating from her dragon. He leapt back up onto her shoulder, where he liked to perch. Tanya grabbed a napkin and wiped Jurantis’s muzzle, then she wiped her own mouth clean.

Steffon pushed anyway his now empty plate. “It’s good that we finished the meal before we talk about the background of Jurantis’s egg. It is not a cheery story, but I think you two both need to hear it. All the other riders know it, so you should too. Vale?”

Vale took her time to lazily snap at pieces of food she had missed, but the dragon didn’t need her mouth free to speak. Hark well and heed your history, she said, fixing her grey eyes on Jurantis. In the open skies of Alagaësia, wild dragons roam fast and free. Your dam was one of these dragons—her name was Sorlin. Eight years ago she was caught in a severe storm while flying and blown far out of her home territory—she strayed into the magical elven forest, Du Weldenvarden, and the elves’ defensive wards shot her out of the sky. An elven patrol was sent to investigate the magical discharge, and they found Sorlin injured, soaking wet, and very angry. Fortunately for the elves, one of the Shur’tugal pairs assigned to protect Du Weldenvarden managed to restrain Sorlin before she could inflict any serious damage. I forget the rider’s name, but the dragon’s name was Tlorine the Long-tailed. He is your sire. Can you see where this is going?

Tanya felt slightly uneasy as she thought about this situation—there were two possible ways this scenario could have gone, and one was significantly worse than the other. Jurantis quickly sensed her mental unease, which only made him more curious. What? What is Vale talking about? What does it mean? Then he looked into Tanya’s mind and saw her suspicions before she could think to hide them from him. The hatchling’s tail went still and his wings drooped flat onto his back. Oh…no…

“When you say Sorlin was…restrained, what exactly does that mean?” Tanya asked, speaking to Steffon. “Do dragons have a different sense of morality than us?”

“What?” Steffon had been impatiently drumming his fingers on the table, but he stopped when he noticed Tanya’s expression. “Morality? What does that have to do with anything? I assume Tlorine just calmed Sorlin down and stopped her from attacking the elves. What does morality—” Suddenly he froze, then he burst into laughter. “Hahaha, oh you think he coerced her…? No, not like that! Gods, no! Not like that at all. I’ve met Sorlin and Tlorine when I was on rotation to Ellesméra—I can assure you it was all very consensual.”

Vale made a huffing sound which might have been amused laughter. An injured dragon is not one to be trifled with, especially a wild dragon who has spent her whole life honing her survival skills. I have been told that Sorlin was furious when the elves’ magic yanked her out of the sky, but there would have been much blood spilt if Tlorine had somehow been foolish enough to attempt to conquer her by force. No, he used an altogether more effective technique—charm.

Jurantis seemed relieved, and he curled his tail around Tanya’s upper arm. This is good. I would not like it to have been the other way—that would be very wrong.

“So then Tlorine’s rider heals Sorlin’s injured wing, and she stays in the rider outpost with them until she is recovered. That’s how these things happen.” Steffon gestured towards Jurantis. “Somewhere along the line your egg gets made, and your parents decide that they’ll give it to the dragon riders so it can be bonded with a rider.”

Vale once again took up the story. It was your dam’s first time carrying an egg, and the first time is always the riskiest. Unfortunately her body went into delivery well before your egg was ready. The shell-forming process did not complete properly, and you were completely undeveloped. The outer shell layer was far too thin over the majority of the surface; more like a membrane than a hard shell, and utterly inadequate to allow proper hatchling development. So the healers tried to repair it by creating an artificial substitute—such a thing has been done before, but rarely with eggs exhibiting such levels of damage.

“Did you save any of the eggshell fragments?” Steffon asked. “Let me show you something.”

Tanya had. She reached into her coat pocket and took out a small cloth sack which she had filled with the remnants from Jurantis’s egg just before she’d left the inn room. Jurantis sniffed at the sack as she handed it to Steffon, but the dragon said nothing.

Loosening the sack’s drawstring, Steffon poured out the eggshell fragments onto the tablecloth. The fragments came in several sizes ranging from tiny chips to one large piece as big as Tanya’s palm. Each piece was pale white in colour, not so different from the shade of a domestic fowl’s egg. “Dragon eggs are supposed to have the same colour as their hatchling. There’s a reason why this egg breaks that rule.” Steffon picked up the largest fragment and held it up between his thumb and forefinger. “This is not what a genuine dragon eggshell would feel like. This is marble—marble rock.”

“Really? I did think that all three of the eggs felt kind of like rocks when I touched them,” Tanya admitted.

“Then you were right. The other two were fakes, but this is also rock. One of the elder riders—a dwarf who had once been a miner—helped create this using pure and carefully polished material which he had been intending to make a carved statue from.”

“Eep.” Jurantis let out a confused chirp. I…do not know how to feel about this. My egg was made by a dwarf?

“Of course, rock alone doesn’t make for a good eggshell,” Steffon continued. “This is pulverised marble mixed in with a glue layer and held together with more magic than you would believe. A spell to add breathing holes that are so small you can’t even see them, a spell to make sure that the rider-bond magic could still work, and a spell to allow the egg to break into pieces when the hatchling decides to hatch. Ven!” Steffon spat out a word in the ancient language, and suddenly all the eggshell fragments seemed to light up with lines that formed geometric patterns along the break edges. “You can even see how it was designed to break apart if forcefully stressed from within.”

Tanya reached out and took the fragment from Steffon. She hadn’t thought to examine Jurantis’s egg before, but now her experience with magic allowed her to see all the intricate spellwork that had been poured into what she had thought was nothing more than a natural creation. She could puzzle out what a few of the enchantments did, but most of the magic was advanced beyond her comprehension.

Much ado was had when the healers attempted such a feat. It was the talk of the whole mountain. Supposedly Sorlin and Tlorine were glad that there was at least a chance for their offspring to survive, but others were of the opinion that it would have been better to destroy the egg instead of trying to fix it with engineering and magic, warping its already broken form into something unnatural and twisted.

Vale addressed her speech directly to Jurantis, although Tanya heard it as well. Normally when a dragon lays an egg, the infant is already ready to hatch, but not you. You were nothing more than protein and yolk at that point—you had no body and no existence, and would have felt no pain if we had destroyed you. Instead the elders decided to run the risk and hope that you might survive. Or if you grew but then died before hatching, hopefully it would at least have been a death without too much suffering.

Tanya could feel uncertainty and confusion running through her dragon’s mind. When Vale mentioned “destroyed” or “death”, Jurantis’s tail would tighten around her arm. Should I ask them to stop? Tanya asked her dragon, sending her thoughts only to him.

Jurantis kept his head held high. No. I need to know more. We need to know more.

Vale continued. It was a great challenge, of course. For a while it looked like things were working and you were developing properly inside the egg, but then infection took hold. That was almost the end of you, and most of the elders did think that it would be the end of you. The solution was just as heroic a measure as everything else that had already been done; after all, what was the worst that could happen? You could only die once. They blasted your egg with…it is…an energy poison that radiates in invisible beams and passes through most things, wreaking havoc with their material structure. The hope was that they might destroy the infection without completely destroying you—gambling that a controlled burn might save your from the wildfire of infection. I think that is what those lines on your body are—scars where magic once cut deep.

Tanya couldn’t help but glance at Jurantis’s side, where black stripes cut across his dark purple scales. Jurantis shuffled his wings so that his flight membranes were partially blocking the marks. I thought those were normal colour patterns. I did not know that dragons do not have stripes, he said.

Steffon swept the eggshell fragments back into the sack and returned it to Tanya. “This was seven years ago; before Vale was hatched, and before I was a rider. But Jurantis’s egg—your egg—was always a great uncertainty. Normally we can use spells to check the status of a dragon egg and make sure the hatchling isn’t in distress, but for you that wasn’t possible. Your egg was so enriched with magic that even the most skilled healers could not be certain if we were seeing a healthy hatchling waiting for a rider, or a live body without a mind—a dead dragon that would never be able to hatch.”

“A dead dra…? Shouldn’t you have mentioned this before I touched the egg?” Tanya asked. “What if turned out the other way and there had been nothing but a corpse inside? Then for all those people who lined up to touch the egg, there would never really have been a chance to become a dragon rider.”

“Really? Would knowing this information have changed your decision to touch the egg? Did you actually think about the choice you were offered?” Steffon sat up straight, and Tanya saw that Vale was also watching closely.

“Of course I did! But the choice wasn’t presented honestly!” Before she’d touched Jurantis’s egg, Tanya hadn’t genuinely believed she would become a dragon rider, but she had at least understood what would happen if she became a dragon rider. Except now it was clear that she hadn’t actually understood, because Steffon and Vale were admitting that they hadn’t been sure if Jurantis was even alive and capable of hatching at that point in time. “All my life I’ve been working to find information, record it, and archive it so that it might benefit others. But you hid the information about that egg and misrepresented it, when you just admitted you had no idea if there was even a live dragon inside it or not.”

Steffon didn’t look angry, but now there was intensity about him as they discussed the issue. “You believe we should have told the background to everyone who wanted to touch the egg—to all the people who were hoping to become a dragon rider? Should we have reminded everyone that the chance of being a dragon rider is more than just a power fantasy that grants immortality and magical ability? That maybe, just maybe, there might have been some responsibilities involved? Would that have been the right thing to do?”

“Would giving people more information be wrong? Wouldn’t it have let them make that choice more fairly?” Tanya shook her head. It was hard to meet Steffon’s intense gaze. “I don’t know. I’m just an apprentice librarian; I don’t have all the answers.”

“That’s good. At least you recognize that. I don’t claim that I know better than you, but wiser minds than us both have deliberated the issue and decided that we ought to keep it a secret till the egg actually hatched. Yes, it was unfair that we didn’t tell everyone that the egg might have been dead, but it would have been even more unfair if we gave them reason to be suspicious and the hatchling turned out to be alive. The secret had to be kept, lest people assume that Jurantis might turn out to be some sort of cripple and refuse to touch his egg and give him a fair chance. He deserved better than that.”

Tanya swallowed “You’re right. That’s not fair. He’s done nothing wrong.”

Yet…what if I am a cripple? I have my legs and my wings, but what if inside me something is broken? I did not know that my egg was so damaged. I thought I was whole, but I could be wrong. You were right—they were not insulting me, they were speaking the truth. Icy doubt seemed to run through Jurantis’s mind, and when it echoed across his mental link with Tanya it cut deep into her heart.

No. It’s not your fault. You didn’t choose any of this, she replied, sending her thoughts only to her dragon, but Jurantis didn’t seem convinced. . In all this debating she had been thinking from her perspective, or even Steffon’s, but not from Jurantis’s. Yet it had been his egg and his life, so Jurantis’s point of view mattered far more than hers. But it was too late—she’d spoken honestly about being misled, and now her dragon thought that she regretted her choice.

I didn’t choose to have my egg laid without a shell, and I didn’t choose to have the healers try to fix me. But I did choose one thing—the first choice I ever made—I chose you to be my rider. I thought I was making the right decision, but perhaps it would have been better for us both if I had slept forever. I am sorry, Tanya.

Jurantis tried to jump off her shoulder, but Tanya grabbed her dragon and clutched him against her chest. Don’t you dare say that! You are my dragon, and I am your rider. We are Shur’tugal now. I don’t care if you have stripes on your side, or if your egg was partially built by a dwarf. I never cared about any of that. Jurantis’s misery washed over Tanya’s consciousness, but she weathered it and refused to back down. She didn’t avoid his self-conscious sorrow; instead, she opened her mind and let him what she felt. Even if you were somehow a cripple, you would still be my dragon, and I am not going to abandon you. I chose to touch your egg, and you chose to hatch for me. I do not regret that.

No one said anything for a few moments. Jurantis was the one who finally broke the silence, even if Tanya was the only one who could hear him. Thank you, was all he said. His misery had faded into calm acceptance and a more complete understanding of their choices. He climbed back onto Tanya’s shoulder and wrapped his tail around her arm again.

Steffon shook his head slowly, but his gaze was on his own dragon. “Non-riders always think of Shur'tugalar from the rider’s point of view—as if dragons are nothing but dumb, obedient creatures for us to command. As if they were just horses that flew. They always think about what the rider gets from the dragon—the long life, the magical power, the title of Argetlam…but it’s supposed to be a partnership. What does the dragon get from the rider?” he asked, his voice a quiet murmur that Tanya just barely heard.

Vale tilted her head to meet her Steffon’s gaze; but whatever she said, she said to him alone.

After another minute, Steffon drummed his fingers against the table and this was like some unspoken signal which ended the sombre melancholy. “Alright, whatever. So long story short, Jurantis’s egg wasn’t the most secure of bets, but there was always still the chance he could hatch so we put it into the recruitment rotation. Which almost brings us to the current day.”

Germundi the silver, and her rider, Khiva the dwarf, were originally the two elders assigned as stewards of Jurantis’s egg. We were merely their escorts, intended to serve as bodyguards, Vale explained. We brought the egg from the rider stronghold and swept westwards through Du Weldenvarden, passing through elven territory until we left the northern forests and reached human settlements, where we moved south through your major population centres.

“Germundi and Khiva were supposed to also bring the egg to your town and oversee the recruitment, but there was a…complication.” Steffon leaned forward and lowered his voice so there was no chance of anyone else overhearing him. “From the dwarf tribes that live in the Beor Mountains, one of their clan leaders has fallen gravely ill. They have dragons riders assigned there who know medicine, but Khiva is an elder and she’s also a dwarf, so her presence was requested. It’s generally not a good idea to ignore calls for help.”

Vale also moved her head closer and spoke in a conspiratorial tone, although she was throwing her thoughts directly and couldn’t be overheard regardless. And this is how Steffon and I were promoted from bodyguards to acting-stewards, even though we are not elders! Khiva decided it was an acceptable risk for us to be taking responsibility of the egg for a short period, just to fly it out to Eoam, and then we’d pass it back to her and Germundi when we met them in the Beor Mountains. Eoam is a small town and we didn’t think there was a high chance you’d hatch, but life is full of surprises.

“We should probably have been trying to act more responsible and wise like how the elders would have, but oh well. I’m not elderly enough for that.” Steffon shrugged his shoulders.

“So what happens to us now?” Tanya asked.

“You get a few days to put your former life in order and say goodbye to friends and family, and then Vale will whisk us all away to the mountains of the dwarfs, where we’ll meet up with Germundi and Khiva. From there I assume we’ll fly back to Dras Fell Eldrvarya so that you two can begin your training.”

Steffon reached for his riding coat, which was resting on the chair beside him. He pulled out a large roll of parchment and spread it across the table. “This is our navigational chart—the most complete map of Alagaësia known to any of the races. Take a look.”

Tanya recognized the map—she had seen many maps of various sizes, but this map had far more detail than any other she’d seen before. Cities and towns were marked all over the map—not just human settlements, but settlements from all the different races. Further information was written in miniscule text or long sweeping lines. “What are all these numbers? And those lines?”

The numbers are elevation heights. The thin lines are general wind patterns. The thicker, shaded lines represent the limits of restricted airspace over Du Weldenvarden—we can still fly inside of the elven borders, but you must cross the demarcation on foot or else their defensive wards will pull you out of the air. That is exactly what happened to Jurantis’s mother.

Jurantis let out a curious chirp and jumped off Tanya’s shoulder so he could peer closely at the map. The world is big! One day we will fly to every corner of this map.

I’m sure that riders have already travelled to all the corners of this map. That is how they created it in the first place, Tanya replied, but she felt Jurantis disagree. He reached his tail out and wrapped it around her wrist.

No. I did not mean ‘we’ as in dragon riders, but ‘we’ as in you and me. We shall fly far and high when I am big enough that you can sit on my shoulder instead of the other way around. I have dreamt of it, and it will be glorious. A shudder ran through his wings, and Tanya suddenly felt a sympathetic longing for the open sky. So where are we right now?

Tanya echoed the question to Steffon, but it was Vale who replied. The dragon leaned over the table and let her nose touch the side of the map, and suddenly a glowing symbol appeared over one specific spot. The rune was a greyish colour and was located on a small island to the south of the main continent—Eoam, Tanya’s hometown and their current location.

“You big show-off,” Steffon muttered. He pushed his dragon’s nose away from the map, but the symbol kept glowing. “That’s dragon magic for you. They can’t use spells on command like riders or magicians can. Instead they use wild magic—powerful, instinctual, and almost never useful.”

Vale let out another huff of amusement and she blew a puff of smoke at Steffon’s face, but Tanya was staring at the glowing symbol that had been placed on the map. “That symbol…”

Steffon tapped the map. “That symbol is sharjalví. In the ancient language it means—”

“Movement,” Tanya translated.

“Right…I keep thinking you’re an apprentice rider, but I forget that you were already a magician. I suppose you can already speak and read the ancient language.”

“A little bit. But why does a sharjalví symbol represent our location?”

“Because every rider has a sigil or crest associated with them, and ours is sharjalví. Vale chose it.”

Vale let out a pleased hum. Movement! It was a good choice. We have done nothing but wander around the world, and I like it.

“It’s here too.” Steffon reached down to his belt and unsheathed his sword. He placed the double-edged weapon flat on the table, and Tanya saw that the same symbol was inscribed on the side of the grey-coloured blade. “You can pick it up if you want a closer look.”

Wrapping her hand around the sword’s handle, Tanya tried to pick it up. “This is heavy…”

“It’s really not. Rider weapons are forged with brightsteel—a metal with incredible strength but less weight than normal iron. An armourer or soldier would marvel at how much lighter than sword is compared to usual. In the right hands, a rider’s weapon is like an extension of their own body—an extension of their will.”

Tanya felt this couldn’t be further from her experience. It felt like at any moment she might lose her grip on the weapon and accidentally cut herself, or worse, Jurantis. The dark grey colour of the blade seemed to suck in any light that shone on it.

That pointy stick is the same grey as Vale, Jurantis noted, staring a bit too closely for Tanya’s comfort.

“Oh, you’re right. Steffon, Jurantis said that your sword is the same colour as Vale.”

“That’s not a coincidence, obviously,” Steffon explained, “When your own sword is forged, it’ll be in the same colour as Jurantis—purple. He’s a pretty colour.”

Jurantis fluttered his wings so he could show off his purple scales. Yes! I am a pretty colour. I have changed my mind—I like Steffon now. Tanya smiled.

Steffon paused for a second, then he looked to Tanya again. “Are you good with a sword? It’s been a while since I’ve had a good spar. I could use some practice.”

“Your sword is the first sword I’ve ever touched in my life. It’s an impressive sword, but not my type of thing,” Tanya replied. She tried to swing the sword around from side to side, but in her hands the weapon felt unwieldy and inappropriate. Certainly it did not feel like an extension of her arm, but rather like she was trying to carry a giant metal stick.

“That’s fine. How about the bow? Can you shoot?”

“No. Never touched a bow either.”

“Not a problem. Your rider weapon can be any weapon you have proficiency in. I’ve seen axes, spears, clubs, lances, longswords, and even a shield,” Steffon said.

“Never touched any of those either.”

Steffon looked thoughtful. “Really? Hmm. I guess since Eoam is a coastal island town there’s no wild game to hunt except sea life. Can you use a harpoon? No? What about a slingshot? Or a crossbow?”

Tanya shook her head to all the suggestions. “I don’t use weapons! Why would I use weapons? I’m not a soldier or a hunter, I’m a librarian. I can use scissors and that’s about it.”

Steffon grinned, but he shook his head. “Well you have to learn something. Scissors won’t be enough to defend yourself if someone attacks you. Dragons and their riders have a habit of attracting trouble. And it’s just tradition that riders have some sort of weapon.”

Jurantis was still staring closely at the grey sword Tanya was holding. I want to try holding it!

You don’t have hands, Tanya replied. And besides, this sword weighs more than you do, she added. But when the hatchling remained insistent, she placed the weapon flat down on the table.

Jurantis grabbed the handle with his jaws and tried to lift it. He couldn’t even raise the whole sword off the table, but this did nothing to dampen his enthusiasm. This is going to be great! When you get your sword I hope it is beautiful and purple like me.

“A sword would be wasted on me.” Tanya took the sword from Jurantis’s jaws and wiped the handle clean of his spit, and then she handed it back to Steffon, who took it and smoothly returned it to the sheath at his belt.

What sort of sigil will come to represent you two, I wonder? Vale said.

Jurantis wrapped his tail around Tanya’s hand again. Yes this is a good question! If Steffon and Vale are sharjalví, what would represent us?

“I think it’s far too early to be making that sort of decision. We’ve only been Shur’tugal for a day,” Tanya replied.

Jurantis remained undeterred. But why? You already know the ancient language. Here, let me see… He reached out with his mind and began searching through Tanya’s knowledge of the ancient language. Oh, that symbol is nice. Let’s use that.

Suddenly Tanya felt a surge of energy run through her arm. The sensation seemed to be focused on her gedwëy ignasia, which was the spot where Jurantis’s tail was touching her palm, and then Jurantis moved forward and tapped his nose against the navigational chart spread out on the table. A second symbol appeared on the paper, right over Eoam and directly overlaying the sharjalv mark with a fresh symbol. “How did you do that?” Tanya asked. It almost felt as if she had used magic, but not a single word of the ancient language had been used to form a spell.

Jurantis couldn’t explain it either. I don’t know. I just wanted it to happen, so it did.

Steffon tapped the map and frowned. “That symbol is…‘kvaedhi’. It means book?”

“It’s eld kvaedhi,” Tanya corrected him. As she said the words, the symbol seemed to briefly flash with a purplish glow. “A more accurate translation would be writer, or booker.”

Jurantis let out a pleased chirp and he jumped onto Tanya’s shoulder again. Yes! Booker—that is your name, is it not? So it could be our sigil.

_ _

[Eventually the riders leave Eoam to fly for the Alagaësian mainland. Steffon, Tanya, and Jurantis ride on Vale's back. A storm catches them as they are over the ocean, but Vale is confident she can fly through it. Riding a thermal, they get sucked into the clouds by intense updrafts. Jurantis is almost blown away by the fierce winds, but Tanya leaps to grab his tail at the last moment.]

[They come across an ancient lighthouse--it is an abandoned relic from the era of the old riders, before the war. Once, a dragon and rider pair would have been assigned here to keep the beacon lit with their magic, shining a light out to guide dragons flying between the dwarfen mountains and the human mainland.]

[They meet up with Khiva and Germundi, the elders in charge of recruitment, but they cannot leave the Beor Mountains just yet. The dwarf elder remains gravely ill, and Khiva suspects that this was a poisoning attempt which they must investigate. They explore the dwarf towns and enjoy the mountain scenery--for Tanya this is a fascinating new experience to see such tall mountains, compared to the coastal islands she has been used to for all her life. Jurantis shares her curiosity,although he gets a little annoyed when Germundi mentions offhand that he isn't growing quite as fast a a normal hatchling would. Steffon and Vale are both praised by the elders for their (somewhat) responsible handling of this important task, but they both seem more standoffish now that they are back to being bodyguards.]

[As the dragon riders wait around and investigate the poisoning, suddenly someone breaks into their sleeping quarters and snatches Jurantis into a cage. Their mysterious assailants also try and kidnap Tanya, but they are taken aback when she reveals a mastery of magic unexpected for a new rider. Try as she might, Tanya is still overcome and taken hostage along with Jurantis.]

[Steffon and Vale persue the kidnappers, but they get lost in the winding labyrinth of tunnels under the mountain.]

[The kidnappers turn out to be dwarf insurgents conspiring to declare overthrow from the ruling high king. They had planned to steal Jurantis egg as it was being transported through the mountains, thus humiliating the high king by showing that he could not protect his guests. Their goals will work just as well even though the egg has hatched and bonded to a human rider. The kidnappers are not malicious to Tanya or Jurantis--they are treated well, but with suspicion.]

[Time-wise we are only a few hours past the initial kidnapping. Vale has flown back to alert the elders (Khiva and Germundi) that something has gone wrong, but Steffon continues trying to track down Tanya and Jurantis. By moving through the night, he manages to locate the tunnel camp where the dwarf conspirators are holding Tanya and Jurantis. Steffon sends a message to Vale, but it will take some time for her to return and help him siege the camp. Though he is a rider trained in combat, it would be madness to attack so many hostiles head-on.]

[However, he may not have the opportunity to take things slowly. He mentally sends a thought projection to try and contact Tanya, and she tells him that Jurantis is in trouble--worried about them escaping, the dwarfs forced them both to take a drug which blocks magical ability. This is an inconvenience for a human, but the effect is far worse for a creature of magic such as a dragon, especially a little hatchling. Jurantis is suffering greatly, and Tanya worries for his health. The dwarfs don't speak the language of humans, so she can't expain to them that they are inadvertently killing the hatchling.]

[Steffon reaches out to Jurantis to try and assess his condition from afar, but the young dragon's mind is confused and panicked. Faced with little alternative, Steffon tries to infiltrate the camp to free both Jurantis and Tanya. He manages to get to where they are being held, but he is discovered by a guard and a fight breaks out. The dwarf rebels attack and almost overwhelm him, but Tanya saves him with her magic.]

[More dwarfs attack, but then it is too late. Morning has come, along with reinforcements--Vale comes barreling through the tunnel, sending dwarfs flying as she charges to the rescue of her rider. Finally they come to a standoff--the leader of the dwarf rebels gets Tanya in a chokehold with a knife to her throat. and he starts backing away from Steffon and Vale.]

[Jurantis to the rescue--the hatchling charges out of his cage and leaps at the rebel leader, trying to claw his eyes out. Tanya breaks free and goes to assist her dragon, offering a vicious punch to the rebel's gut.]

[Finally, the conflict is resolved. The dwarfs take the surviving rebels into custody, while Jurantis and Tanya are taken back to the rider stronghold to begin their training. Steffon and Vale follow them for a while, but soon they leave on some other mission or task. As they wave goodbye, Jurantis and Tanya both wave back, wondering when they will next meet.]

DRAFT ENDS HERE