Abigail is going to kill me when she finds out. I never meant for this to happen. She probably thinks I betrayed her. But I never intended to do this. I never wanted to take the spotlight or steal her dream. And yet this still happened. Walker rubbed one of the dragon hatchling's scales with his finger. The texture was like that of the wood on the inside of a tree when it's just been cut. The dragon hummed softly in his lap.
After the egg had hatched, Walker and his dragon had been taken into a back room by the man by the pedestal. Walker sat in the first chair he saw to get off of his wobbling knees. His mind had been spinning and he took a few moments to smooth his breathing.
It was not for a while until he noticed that there were two other people in the room with them. They were all standing as they stared silently at Walker and the new hatchling. There were two men and one woman, including the man that had led them into the room. The man from earlier was more than six feet tall, his hair was completely gray and pulled back into a short pony tail, his mouth was set into a straight thin line, and his eyes, that were still studying Walker and the hatchling, had a very angular shape and were crystal blue. It seemed like those eyes could stare straight into a person's soul. Maybe they can. As quickly as the thought came, Walker dismissed it. Around his neck was a golden chain necklace that he was fiddling with in-between his fingers.
The other man was shorter and very stout. He had bulging muscles all over his arms and chest that gave him the look of being fat rather than strong. A tattoo lay on his upper left arm. The tattoo was of a snake twisting itself into the shape of an eight on its side. It was the sign of the Du Vrangr Gata, an organization that was made up of all of the magicians in Alagaësia, well actually just all of the human ones. The man's skin was black which was unlike anything he had ever seen even though he had heard tales of the wandering tribes having that type of skin. On the man's bottom lip was a gold ring that twinkled in the light whenever the man moved. The man's nose was very flat and wide and his eyes were beady like a lizard's.
As if she was lounging, the woman in the room was lazily leaning on the wall by the only window. Sunlight poured over half of her face while leaving the other half shrouded in darkness. She looked to be about his age even though there was something about her that told she was many decades, maybe even centuries, older than that. Her light brown hair was severely pulled back into a bun at the base of her neck. She folded her arms over her stomach and he saw a long red scar running from the wrist of her left arm up to the middle of her upper limb. Her ears were rather pointed but not nearly enough to be an elf's. She stared at him with hazel eyes as if bored with what she saw.
Suddenly, the floor beneath Walker shook as a big thump sounded throughout the city. When the shaking ceased, he looked up out of the window and saw a large golden eye staring back at him. The iris was the size of two human heads put together. The dragon it belonged to was one of the biggest Walker had ever seen and he only needed to see part of its snout to see that. Most of its snout was covered in golden scales but streaks of scarlet red ran along the top of its head and along its mouth. Walker's dragon hatchling made a sound like a friendly yelp at the older dragon who quietly growled in response as a greeting.
"Ah, now we are all here." The tall man said. He turned toward Walker. "What is your name, boy?"
Walker took a big gulp in an attempt to try to clear his throat. He wasn't sure if he would be able to speak but he tried anyway. "Wal– Walker. Walker Moransson." The words stumbled clumsily out of his mouth and he cursed himself in his head with how pathetic he sounded. They were probably all thinking that the hatchling had made the wrong choice just like he was thinking. Abigail would have done so much better.
"You are the next human Rider, Walker Moransson. It is a pleasure to meet you. You are the lucky one that he has hatched for." He made a motion with his head toward the dragon. So it's male. "My name is Rhylite and this is–."
"Bardan, High Ambassador of the Du Vrangr Gata," the dark-skinned man said.
"And I am Vesta and this is Eridor, the dragon I am partnered with." She made a motion with her hand to the window but the dragon, Eridor, did not move except to blink as he stared at Walker and his dragon.
"The four of us, for the past two decades, have been charged by King Valorn to take this egg across the Empire to be touched by thousands until it hatches." Rhylite said. "Once the egg hatches, we must also protect the new dragon and rider and lead them safely to the capital, Ilirea. There they are to stay until both of you grow strong enough to travel to the east to be trained by other dragons and riders. You do understand?"
Walker nodded. This day just keeps getting better, he thought sarcastically. The thought of leaving everything he had ever known sickened him. Rhylite was about to speak again when Walker said, "Wait." They all stayed silent as they waited for what he was going to say. He cleared his throat again and looked up at them. "This shouldn't have happened. It shouldn't have been me."
"What do you mean?" Bardan asked.
"I've never wanted to be a Rider. I was only in line because I was with my sister because she wanted to be the Rider. She was always meant to be it, not me. I don't know why he," he motioned to the dragon in his lap, "picked me. But I do know he was wrong. This isn't me. I'm not meant to be the next rider. Sorry." No one else spoke. Bardan and Rhylite looked dumbstruck while Vesta seemed to just be staring into the distance. "Something can be done. Right?" It was stupid question but Walker still hoped there was a chance of getting away from this somehow.
"No. Not really." Rhylite said.
At least I tried. "You can go on, now." Walker stared down at his dragon as he tried to hide his downcast expression.
"Before we move on, first things come first. You must decide upon a name for the hatchling."
"Oh." The dragon in his lap stared back at him. "What should I name you?" He whispered so only the dragon could hear. Walker went through the many dragon names he had heard from bards or from Abigail. A pang of guilt went through him at the thought of her. "Should you be Vanilor?" The dragon shook his head. "Fundor?" He shook his head again. Walker went through a few more names that were denied until he found the one. "Ingothold?" The dragon nodded. "Ingothold." Walker repeated louder.
"A strong name." Vesta commented.
"A strong name." He repeated. Walker agreed with her. The name was strong and dignified and it fit the dragon in front of him.
Slowly, Walker raised his head and asked, "So I'm to leave Carvahall." It was such a foreign thought. He had always felt certain that he could never leave Palancar Valley. The thought was overwhelming.
"Yes. We would like to leave to go to Ilirea as soon as possible," Rhylite replied. "About a year is the usual time that a dragon and rider remain in Ilirea. After that you will be escorted across Alagaësia to the east. There you will train." Hearing him say it made everything feel more definite. His life would go as exactly as Rhylite had just said. There was no way to go back in time or to stop all of this. Abigail will hate me. It felt like his heart was deflating under his extreme guilt when he thought of how much Abigail must be hurting that instance and he could do nothing about. In fact, he believed that it was all his fault.
"Walker," Vesta said, "why do you think that this is some mistake?" Her voice was soft and low and it betrayed a bit of curiosity in it. She talked in such a way that Walker thought it would be easy to tell her anything.
"My sister, Abigail, has always been the one in the family that wanted to be the Rider. Our father has never believed that she could become one, and that's why she wanted to be one so badly. I was just in the line to see her touch the egg. I. . I hadn't meant to touch it myself. He, Ingothold, didn't hatch for her but then I ended up touching it and he hatched for me. You don't know Abigail. She'll be crushed even more when she finds out that I'm the new Rider." In a lower voice he said, "I shouldn't have touched it."
Vesta seemed to have heard him though. "Don't feel bad. It's not your fault Ingothold picked you. You need not say you're sorry to her. You have done nothing wrong. Don't let her make you feel any different." He listened and took in her words. He knew that what she said was true but he still couldn't truly believe that it wasn't his fault at all. No matter what he was still sure that Abigail would be crushed even more so than she was now.
Something strange seemed to touch Walker's mind. It felt like a maze with many intricate hallways and dead ends. Walker felt that even if he ventured a little into that maze he would be lost forever. A deep voice spoke inside his head and he realized that it was the dragon, Eridor, who was touching his mind. Fate has a way of creeping up on us when we least expect it to. Philosophers and teachers who have lived for centuries even do not understand the sense behind what it does. You are hesitant to accept this unforeseeable destiny and it is something your sister has vied for. And yet you are the one who becomes the Rider. It seems that Fate has a bit of a sense of humor. Walker heard a deep chuckle emanate from Eridor. Tell your sister "By Fate's unpredictable nature he still may give you what you so long for." Maybe then, she will understand. Eridor's consciousness drew away from his.
Walker repeated what the dragon had told him over and over again so he would never forget it. 'By Fate's unpredictable nature he still may give you what you so long for.' Maybe Abigail will listen to that.
"How old are you?" Bardan asked Walker.
"Fifteen."
"Where do you live?"
"Way down the road. My father is a blacksmith."
"I'll need to speak with him," Rhylite said.
"We can go right now if you want. I don't think he'll be too busy." Now that Walker thought about his father he released that he probably wouldn't be too happy either. What Abigail had said earlier was right. Father did expect him to stay in Carvahall forever and to inherit the blacksmith since he was the first and only son of the family. I'll just have to hope that Abigail and Father aren't both there now. I don't think I can handle both of them at the same time.
Ingothold climbed out of Walker's lap and up his arm and rested around his neck once more. Vesta pushed herself from the wall she was still leaning on and stepped more into the light. Walker could see the other face of her face. All along the right side of her face and neck were savage red burn marks. Her right ear was shriveled up and it didn't even resemble an ear anymore. The burns shocked him. I wonder how she got those?
"I cannot accompany you to see your father. Eridor and I have some business to attend to. Excuse me." She made a quick nod to all three of them before exiting the room.
"Like Vesta, I too have some things to take care of myself. Excuse me." Bardan sauntered out of the room also.
Rhylite said. "That leaves the two of us."
They headed out of the room going a different way than through the big hall where the dragon egg had laid just a while ago. As they were walking in silence through the hallways, Walker felt a presence enter into his mind once again. It was both similar and different from Eridor's mind. This mind was less vast and much smaller. It was still like a maze but less intricate than Eridor's consciousness. Walker could travel through this maze and not get lost in its vast dark pathways. He could tell that the owner of the mind was admiring its surroundings. Walker looked at the violet dragon sitting across his shoulders that stared intently at anything their paths crossed with.
It's you. Isn't it? As best as he could, Walker projected his thoughts toward the little dragon. He had never tried anything like it before. The thought that he could touch other minds with his was daunting.
The dragon hatchling stopped studying his surroundings and turned his head toward Walker. He had succeeded! The dragon did not speak using any words but rather with images. He told him through those images: yes.
Well, aren't you something. A shiver went down Walker's spine. It was made by pure excitement. He hadn't ever meant to be a Rider, but the past few events had intoxicated him in a way that nothing else had ever did. Maybe this won't be so bad after all. Then he remembered Abigail.
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