Bright Star

Andra pressed her palms against the glass, breathless, praying for a closer look.

The dragon soared past the arched window, pouring fire from its jaws.

Orange light flashed on its scales as the gorgeous creature twirled in the setting sun.

Andra’s breath caught. It felt almost like the dragon was dancing just for her.

The idea lit a fire inside her, and suddenly the glass grew hot against her palm.

Andra winced as she pulled away. How strange that the dragon’s fire could reach her, far away as she was…

But there was so much she didn’t know about the beautiful creatures. So much she could never know.

She would never—could never—be a Rider. The Judges ruled long ago that only young men could be chosen, and only of the highest class.

Andra could only dream of soaring through the skies, hunting in the Wilds, or becoming one with her very own mind mate…

Fate had not shone on her like the light of the setting sun. She was just a servant girl.

The leather collar on her neck, sealed with a cold metal lock, meant she had ten more years of servitude.

She was fifteen, so she would be twenty-five before she would taste freedom.

Andra could look to that day, far in the future, and feel hope.

But she could never be a dragon Rider. That was a distant dream. And a dangerous one at that.

“Race you to the rafters!” Talias shouted, stumbling out of a nearby fireplace and stirring up a filthy cloud.

Andra was pulled from her dreams and into his twinkling brown eyes.

His face was covered in soot, and the shine of his blond hair was darkened by the dirt, but he was still as handsome as ever underneath all the squalor.

The two friends sprinted through the vast, vacant hall, their footsteps echoing off the stone walls.

“I don’t like to eat dust,” Talias shouted. “I like cakes and pastries.”

They were running neck and neck.

“With such fine taste, I would think you were a Judge’s son, not a kitchen boy!” Andra teased.

Talias grabbed the only ladder, but Andra was ready. She was already shimmying up the wooden support beam.

“A Judge’s son couldn’t run like me,” Talias retorted.

“Nor climb like me!” Andra shouted.

Grasping it tightly between her legs, she pulled her body up with her arms, over and over again.

Finally, she hopped astride the rafter and smiled as she caught her breath.

She watched triumphantly as Talias scrambled to the top of the ladder.

“I don’t know why I ever think I can beat you at climbing,” he panted.

Andra giggled. She hoped Talias would never stop trying. Then they could race each other forever—and she could always win.

“After this?” Andra asked.

“You bet. Let’s make quick work,” he replied.

Andra’s friendship with Talias was the best part of serving in the Hall of Riders. Having someone to laugh with made the time go quickly, and it made the hard work more fun.

She watched him admiringly as he dusted the wooden surface with his rag. His blond hair fell in front of his face, and the sleeves of his shirt were rolled tightly to his elbows.

He worked with sure, even strokes of his hand. Talias didn’t rush as Andra always did.

Even when he did chores, it seemed there was nowhere else in the world he would rather be.

The two finished their work in the rafters, moving through the multi-colored shafts of midday light.

When the task was complete, they walked quietly through the corridors, the sound of their footsteps lost among the chatter that echoed off the stone walls and floors.

They bowed their heads and averted their eyes from the elegantly dressed Riders who populated the Hall.

This was Andra’s favorite time of year, when the Riders of all Paerolia congregated in the Hall to see which young men would join their ranks…

Eventually, the corridor opened up to the grand entrance. Celebratory banners hung from the high ceilings and over the massive double doors.

Andra and Talias passed under the white silk banner bearing the crest of the Judges—an olive branch crossed with a sword—and the crest of the elves—a huge oak tree on a background of royal purple.

Then they were outside.

“Ah,” Talias sighed, turning to the sun. Now that they were out of the Hall, they could talk freely. “If I could, I would toil outside all day long.”

The two walked across the grass to the edge of the woods where the kindling was stacked.

“You could own your own farm someday, if you like,” Andra replied. “If you can tell yourself apart from the barn animals, that is.”

“Har har.” Talias nudged her arm playfully. He smiled down at her, and the two walked in silence for a moment.

“Would you live with me if I did?” Talias asked as he lifted an armful of wood. “I would need someone to look after the pigs.”

Even though she knew he was just teasing, Andra’s heart leapt in her chest.

“You’re lucky I like pigs. But I’ll only live with you if we have a cow, too, so we can always have milk and cream.”

“I like the way you think,” Talias replied.

The two crossed back across the great lawn to the Hall of Riders with loads of firewood in their arms. The majestic stone castle rose above them, flags flying from its turrets.

Andra’s thin burlap dress was cool against her skin, but sweat beaded beneath her leather collar. She was accustomed to the sensation. She had worn the collar her whole life.

Not all workers in the Hall wore leather bands around their necks, but the indentured servants did.

The collar itself hardly bothered Andra, though she hated the contract it represented. It symbolized her father’s crime, and the ten years of service that remained.

But she knew it was pointless to be angry about what she could not control.

A calm sensation overcame Andra, and she felt a benevolent presence press against her mind—like the warmth of a fire.

For a moment, she and Talias were cast in shadow. Andra looked up to see a massive creature flying under the sun.

Its outstretched wings were as tall as an oak tree, and the sun shone through as a translucent blue.

A long, spiked tail trailed out behind the creature. As it soared above her, Andra wondered how something so dangerous could move with so much grace.

“Dragon,” she whispered, a smile spreading across her lips.

“The Choosing will start soon,” Talias said.

The two locked gazes, and Andra could tell from the spark in his eye that he had an idea.

“What if…?”

“It’s forbidden,” Andra replied. “Especially for me.”

And yet, Andra was enticed by the prospect.

She knew from the moment Talias had suggested the idea that it was dangerous.

Then again, she’d had a hard time saying no to the handsome kitchen boy from the day she’d arrived at the Hall of Riders.

“We would be in the same room as that dragon,” Talias went on, raising an eyebrow.

“Let’s do it,” she agreed, her eyes lighting up with excitement.

“Yes!” Talias rejoiced, rushing ahead to deliver the firewood.

In the kitchen, many hands toiled for the evening’s supper. The air smelled of garlic and rosemary.

Andra dropped her armload by the large furnace.

“What mischief are you two making now?”

Talias turned to the plump, cheerful face of Nelly, the head cook of the Hall.

She grabbed Talias by the ear, and he swatted her away.

“No mischief, mother,” he replied innocently. “Andra and I are simply doing our chores. In fact, we’ve been so good, I thought we might deserve a little treat.”

Nelly narrowed her eyes in distrust, but eventually, she pulled two misshapen pastries from her apron.

Andra and Talias each ate their own sweet in one bite.

Nelly reminded Andra of her own mother, whom she hadn’t seen in years.

Her mother was bound by her own work contract in a Judge’s manor far away.

Talias escaped, weaving between the chefs with Andra at his heels. They emerged into the grand dining room, where the feast tables were laid for over a hundred guests.

Andra rushed in front of him, racing through the corridor to the reception hall.

She paused for just a moment before the vast doorway. Applause poured from the ceremony, and without hesitating one moment more, Andra ducked into the large room.

Talias hurried to her side, and the two crouched behind a large statue as the room fell into silence.

Andra peeked over the top of the sculpture’s marble base…and then she saw it again.

Andra’s eye was drawn to it like a moth to a flame. Its gorgeous blue scales were iridescent, shimmering like tiny sapphires.

The dragon lowered her head gracefully toward Judge Dusan, the Master of the Hall of Riders. The Judge bowed in turn, then gently touched the great beast’s snout.

Andra realized she was holding her breath. Finally, she looked from the dragon to the dozen human and elven boys standing before the Judge in ceremonial robes.

These were the most promising first-year students of the Hall of Riders.

The young men given the greatest opportunity in all of Paerolia: the opportunity to match with a dragon, if fate should deem them worthy of the bond.

The very thought of riding a dragon made Andra’s heart leap with excitement, even though she knew it was impossible for her.

She was a girl—and a slave.

The audience was filled with older Riders who had gathered to see the newest generation of their honorable kind…

Andra glanced up at the statue looming over her.

Eliana of the Two-Bloods, the last female Rider, and the warrior who had ended the Three Hundred Years’ War between dragons, humans, and elves.

“Welcome Riders, potential Riders-to-be, and our guest, Ena,” Judge Dusan said in greeting.

The dragon nodded at the crowd, closing her brilliant eyes.

Judge Dusan wore a regal white robe, and his long beard was braided and tied with a golden clasp.

He watched over the Hall and the surrounding area, as was his duty. When the emperors of old were replaced with Judges, the Judges were tasked with the protection of their people and the guidance of their Riders.

“Students, nobody knows the anxiety and excitement that you feel right now like the esteemed men behind you…”

Andra watched as the boys shifted on their feet.

“And now,” the Judge went on, “we welcome a moment of silence as Ena determines how many Riders are among you.”

The Hall went as silent as death itself.

Not a moment later, a fire warmed Andra’s mind, growing closer and closer, until…

She gasped.

Instinctively, Andra began to pull away, putting up the walls to protect her thoughts as she had been taught since childhood.

But there was something so gentle about the presence that she stopped.

It pressed itself against her mind like an invisible embrace, and she felt joy swell inside her at the touch, her eyes closing as she savored this strange and wonderful contact.

Andra felt Talia’s grip her hand. His was clammy with sweat.

Then, abruptly as it had come, the touch was gone.

Andra turned to Talias, smiling in wonder. But he looked back at her with confusion.

She realized she was the only one who the dragon had spoken to.

Talias tugged on her arm, but she ignored him.

“Ena has spoken!” Judge Dusan announced.

The whole room paused in silent trepidation as the Judge lifted his arms above his head.

Every soul in the Hall was hanging on his next words. How many Sky Rider bonds would form this year?

Judge Dusan sighed.

“The honorable dragon senses three potential Riders among us. Thus, she will grant us three of her own eggs for tomorrow’s Pairing Ceremony.”

Whispers went up from the crowd.

“Yes, the numbers dwindle, year after year,” Judge Dusan called, his voice sharp. “But, as always, we are thankful for what we are given.”

The two friends began to crawl for the massive double doors, then bolted, dodging left into the shadows of the corridor.

“The Choosing is about to end,” Talias hissed. “You’re going to get us killed!”

Talias’s anxiety made Andra walk even more quickly, but it could not ruin the wonderful feeling that lingered in her mind.

She could still feel the fiery warmth of the dragon, and Andra repeated her affirming words over and over in her own voice.

But at that very moment, the guests were dismissed and the Riders began to rise.

Andra started sprinting, but Talias grabbed her hand just before it slipped out of his reach. He pulled her sharply to the right, over to the engraved metal door that was nestled in an alcove.

“We aren’t allowed in here either!” she warned.

But the deep voices of the Riders were moving toward them, and they had no choice.

They leapt into the dim room, and Andra yanked the door shut behind them.

She turned to Talias, who was struggling to catch his breath. His eyes were so wide with exasperation that Andra snorted with laughter.

Though Talias tried not to smile, he eventually joined his friend. And when Andra brushed away the chin-length brown hair that had fallen into her face, Talias reached for her hand.

She felt the familiar dip in the pit of her stomach at the touch. She gazed into his warm eyes, which had come to feel like home to her.

Andra wanted to tell him what the dragon had told her, but Talias was already looking away. He gazed up at the high ceiling of the small room.

“Ers Fehnar.”

Andra’s eyes traveled up the intricate carving in the wall…and then her breath caught.

Swirling fire of all different colors was trapped in large, glass-like orbs suspended near the ceiling.

These were the first flames of the dragons of old—whose bodies were long gone, but whose memories were preserved forever.

The orbs bobbed gently in the darkness. Andra was hypnotized by a deep, molten red.

Before her eyes, the glassy orb seemed to grow and then disappear. The only thing she could see was the red flame that had burnt for centuries: forever roiling, never going dim.

She knew from its color that this first flame belonged to the Guardian Oriens of the Rising Sun, the legendary dragon who helped defeat the evil emperor of old and restore a new order for Paerolia.

He had been Eliana’s Pair.

Andra was awestruck as she thought of the Pair of Sky Riders…they were brave not just in battle, but in their vision for how the world could be.

Oriens and Eliana knew that humans, elves, and dragons could live in peace.

“Andra,” Talias whispered.

She knew, somewhere in the back of her mind, that they should leave.

But as the vision materialized before her, she was rooted to the spot.

The red flames began to twist. They formed shapes that worked together to create a complete image.

It was a dragon, soaring on massive, molten wings. And on its back was a girl whose hair blew in the wind.

Andra knew it must have been Eliana of the Two Bloods.

But for just a moment, the Rider looked like her…

An unspeakable longing filled Andra. It burned in her heart and wrapped around her throat.

Instinctively, Andra raised her hand to the silver lock on her collar, the very thing that made her dream impossible.

But the moment she touched it, she gasped and pulled away. Her finger had been burned…

All reason told Andra that she would never know magic. She would never feel the otherworldly heat of a dragon’s flame…

And yet, the lock that bound her was scorching hot.