Chapter One
The Choosing
Warfang was ablaze with colour.
The streets were crammed with dragons of every element: Fire Dragons with red scales the colour of sunsets, Ice Dragons with scales as pale and blue as frost, Earth Dragons with deep green hides like moss and Electricity Dragons with scales so violently bright and yellow that nothing at all was like it. Colourful buntings fell from the city's sandstone buildings, fluttering boldly against the azure summer sky. It seemed that every dragon in the realms had come to Warfang to watch the ancient, celebrated ceremony that was the Choosing.
Ignitus swallowed. He had never seen so many colours and so many dragons before in his life. He came from a place called the Burned Lands - a vast, volcanic stretch of land where the only dragons were Fire Dragons, and the only thing that could be seen for miles was red magma and black brimstone. He already felt nervous as the prospect of the Choosing. Now, all the new sights and smells and sounds threatened to overwhelm him.
His best friend, Flavius, seemed to be feeling the exact opposite. He was gazing with wonder at his surroundings. "Look, Ignitus," he breathed. "Isn't it wonderful?"
Flavius and Ignitus both came from the Burned Lands, and were as close as brothers. Two weeks ago, a strange Fire Dragon called Ishlandur had appeared in their village, claiming to be the Guardian of Fire. He explained that the Guardians were looking to take on worthy young dragons as their apprentices, to train them in the element of fire at the Dragon Temple. The worthiest of them all, Ishlandur said, would be become the Guardian of Fire - the highest honour that could be bestowed upon any dragon.
Flavius had eagerly put himself forward. For Flavius, a life as Fire Guardian – powerful, respected, admired – was his best chance at escaping the bleak, impoverished existence typical for many in the Burned Lands. No longer would he have to choke on volcanic ash and swelter in the heat and fly for days on end, hunting for a morsel of food in the charred, barren wasteland. Instead, he would live in the Dragon Temple, comfortable and well-fed, pursuing the honourable goal of mastering his element and protecting the realms.
Ignitus didn't mind living in the Burned Lands. It was what he was used to. But had put himself forward, too, so he could be with Flavius.
So for two weeks, Flavius, Ignitus and some other young Fire Dragons had undergone the trials Ishlandur had set for them – spitting fireballs at targets, flying perilously between pillars of volcanic rock, trying to navigate their way half-blind through thick volcanic smoke. Now, they had come to Warfang to hear whether or not they would be chosen to train as apprentices at the Dragon Temple. And so has every other dragon, Ignitus thought nervously.
The crowd seemed to grow even thicker as they moved closer to the town square where the Choosing was taking place. Someone in the crowd jostled him, and Ignitus was shoved painfully into the flank of a dragon beside him.
"Sorry!" Ignitus gasped.
The dragon turned, very slowly, to look at him. He was a young dragon – about Ignitus' age – yet instead of bright red scales, his hide was a pale, icy blue. An Ice Dragon! Ignitus thought in awe. White spots speckled his back like freshly-fallen snow, and his horns were so clear and so smooth they looked as if they had been carved from ice. Adorning his body were copious amounts of jewellery – an elegant silver choker encircled his throat, and around his forelegs he wore silver bracers studded with small amethysts. The Ice Dragon peered contemptuously at Ignitus.
"Are these the dragons that get selected for the Choosing nowadays?" he said derisively.
It was clear from the Ice Dragon's jewellery and from his plummy accent that he was very wealthy. Ignitus wondered how it was that the Ice Dragon was the same height as him, yet seemed to be looking down on him.
Flavius growled beside Ignitus, smoke rising menacingly from his nostrils. A second Ice Dragon, equally adorned in jewellery, shot Ignitus and Flavius a disdainful look over her shoulder.
"Come on, Cyril," she said dismissively. "Let's not waste our time on these two."
The two Ice Dragons put their horned noses in the air and strutted off, disappearing into the crowd. Flavius watched them go, indignant.
"What a jerk," he said to Ignitus. "I guess it's true that Ice Dragons are unfriendly, then."
Ignitus continued his journey towards the town square, now feeling even worse than before. If this was what other dragons were like, he should have stayed in the Burned Lands.
To Ignitus' great relief, the crowd began to thin: they had reached the town square, where the Choosing was taking place. Some dragons hung to the edge of the clearing, each straining to get a good view of the ceremony; others perched on the tall sandstone buildings surrounding the square and watched from above. Four very large dragons stood near the centre of the square: Ignitus recognised Ishlandur, the Guardian of Fire who had come to the Burned Lands. His red scales were dull and greying with age, but he still made a formidable sight.
The crowd began to clamour excitedly: it seemed that the other young dragons who were taking part in the Choosing were arriving, too. Ishlandur let the noise go on for a moment, then raised his wings for silence. Almost at once, a hush fell across the clearing. Flavius was right, Ignitus thought, awed. The Guardians are really respected.
"Dragons of Warfang, and those who have flown further afield," he began. "We are about to commence the ancient ceremony we know as the Choosing."
A roar rippled through the clearing. Dragons stamped or thumped their tails enthusiastically on the ground. In spite of his nervousness, Ignitus couldn't help but feel a spark of excitement in his paws.
The crowd grew quiet again as Ishlandur continued. "The Guardians are the defenders of the realms. There are four of us, each representing the elemental powers our ancestors blessed us with: fire, electricity, ice, and earth." As Ishlandur listed the elements, the three dragons standing beside him nodded in turn. "Together, it is our duty to protect each year's clutch of dragon eggs – the future of dragonkind. And when evil falls upon the realms, the Guardians are what stand between you, and the darkness beyond.
"Our ancestors blessed the dragons with a long life, sometimes spanning a thousand years. Yet we cannot serve as your Guardians forever. It is time for us to train the next generation of dragons, four of whom will be chosen to take over as Guardians once our bodies have turned to dust. They, eventually, will choose Guardians to succeed themselves; and so on, as has been done since the dawn of time."
Ishlandur stepped back. He looked at the great green dragon beside him. "Kytheron, will you begin?"
The Guardian of Earth stepped forward. Powerful muscles rippled under his green hide. When he spoke, his voice rumbled like the earth itself was shaking.
"Quakar of the Tall Plains," he said.
A burly Earth Dragon stepped forward into the square. He stood before the Earth Guardian, his face unreadable. A mole suddenly scurried up to the dragon, a beautiful silken cloak in his arms. He fixed the cloak around the dragon's neck. The dragon went to stand beside the Guardians, his new cloak shimmering in the sunlight. The Earth Guardian nodded at him briefly, then called another name. Another dragon, this time a dragoness with crystals sprouting from her shoulders, stepped before the Earth Guardian and was fitted with a cloak; she joined the first young dragon in standing beside the Guardians.
The process of calling names and fitting dragons with cloaks went on for a short time. Then, with no warning, the Earth Guardian stepped back and a dragon who Ignitus presumed was the Guardian of Ice stepped forward. The ceremony was repeated, except this time the dragons who stepped forward were pale blue or white. Ignitus' attention began to wane. The sun felt very hot on his scales.
Suddenly a dragon stepped forward who made Ignitus start. It was a pale blue dragon, with silver jewellery around his neck and forelegs.
Cyril!
"It's that jerk you bumped into earlier!" Flavius hissed in his ear.
The Ice Dragon walked confidently over to the Ice Guardian to receive his cloak. He held his head high, as if being accepted to train at the Dragon Temple was his birthright. Ignitus watched him, feeling an uncomfortable squirming in his belly: he didn't want to be at the Dragon Temple with this snobby dragon. Then he quickly checked himself: You're here for Flavius, he reminded himself. You're not going to be accepted to train at the Dragon Temple, so put any thoughts of being there out of your mind right now.
Ignitus tried to supress the nervousness he felt when it was Ishlandur's turn to announce the young Fire Dragons who would be accepted into the Dragon Temple. You're here for Flavius. You're not going to be accepted. You're here for Flavius. You're not going to be accepted. Yet he couldn't help the leap of hope, then disappointment, he felt when Ishlandur called a name that was not his. A pretty dragoness with copper-coloured scales padded over to Ishlandur to receive her cloak.
More names were called. Ignitus could sense Flavius becoming increasingly agitated: Ishlandur had now called several names, but none of them were his. Ignitus, on the other hand, felt more and more calm the more names were called. He had already accepted his fate: You're here for Flavius. You're not going to be accepted.
"Ignitus of the Burned Lands," Ishlandur said.
It felt like an Ice Dragon had blasted ice over his heart.
Ignitus.
My name.
Ishlandur was looking expectantly at Ignitus. Other dragons in the crowd followed his gaze and they, too, began to peer curiously at Ignitus. It was only when Ignitus noticed Cyril looking at him with an expression that said, 'Jeez, is this dragon stupid or what?' did he realise he needed to go to Ishlandur to receive his cloak.
He put one shaky paw in front of him. Then another. He could feel the gazes of all the dragons in Warfang burning on his back; he kept his own fixed to the floor. He noticed, vaguely, that the ground below his paws was paved with a pretty mosaic pattern. His paws felt as heavy and useless as lead. His mouth felt too dry to swallow. He couldn't hear anything except his heart bumping and the blood roaring in his ears.
After what seemed like an age, he reached Ishlandur. With effort, he lifted his gaze to meet the eyes of the Fire Guardian. The old dragon smiled warmly as some small, deft hands fiddled with clasping a cloak around Ignitus' neck. Feeling as if he were in a dream, Ignitus joined the rest of the chosen dragons.
His eyes met Flavius's. Ignitus finally felt some semblance of rational thought. If I've been picked, then Flavius definitely will be. But Ignitus could only watch the shock, despair and disappointment in Flavius' eyes as Ishlandur stepped back to let the Electricity Guardian call the names of the chosen Electricity Dragons.
Some tiny ray of hope danced in Ignitus' chest. There had to have been some sort of mistake. Any moment now Ishlandur would interrupt the Electricity Guardian and say, "My apologies, but I appear to have missed a name from my list. Could Flavius of the Burned Lands please approach?"
But no such thing happened. The Electricity Guardian continued to call names uninterrupted. Ignitus searched desperately for Flavius's gaze, wishing to convey that he was sorry, he'd never planned for this to happen. But Flavius had gone, melted into the crowd like frost in the sunlight. And then the final Electricity Dragon accepted his cloak and it was all over.
"That concludes the Choosing," Ishlandur declared, raising his wings. "The dragons that stand before you have been recognised as the worthiest in all the realms, and each holds the power to become Guardian in his paws. May their horns be sharp, their wings swift and their breaths true. Farewell!"
The crowd, seeing that the ceremony was over, began to disperse. But suddenly a dragon froze. Then another. A voice near Ignitus hissed, "What is that?" And then every dragon's eyes were fixed, not on the chosen dragons, but on the shadow that passed over the square.
The shadow was cast by a dragon. He must have watched the ceremony from above but now he was descending, wings beating, into the town square. For a moment Ignitus could not see what the fuss was about; there were many dragons in Warfang, and he did not know why everyone was transfixed by this one. And then he saw.
It was a dragon, fully grown, though clearly not as old as the Guardians. A nest of horns sat atop his head like a crown. And every scale on his body was a rich, magnificent shade of purple.
Ignitus racked his brains, trying to remember which element of dragon had purple scales. He'd heard that Electricity Dragons sometimes had indigo underbellies, but something told Ignitus that this was not an Electricity Dragon. Everything about him seemed at once both wondrous and unnatural. Ignitus was still trying to work out his element when the dragon landed in front of the new apprentices. He leered at them with eyes as golden and brilliant as the sun, and he showed them his fangs in a wide, toothy grin.
"Welcome, apprentices," the purple dragon rumbled. "You have done exceptionally well to be chosen to train at the Dragon Temple. I also trained at the Dragon Temple when I was your age, and I remain there now."
Trained in what element? Ignitus wondered.
"I shall be watching your training with interest. Good luck!"
No one responded. Instead, the apprentices simply gawked at him. The purple dragon waited a moment, then turned and took off into the sky. Ignitus watched him go, feeling curious and slightly in awe. After a stunned silence, the apprentices began to disperse: the Earth Dragons gathered around the Earth Guardian, the Ice Dragons gathered around the Ice Guardian, and the Electricity Dragons gathered around the Electricity Guardian. The crowd who had come to watch the Choosing, too, began to filter out of the town square. Ignitus made his way to Ishlandur, but his mind was still on the strange dragon he'd just met.
Ishlandur bent his head as Ignitus approached, smiling warmly. "Good fortune, young dragon!" the old dragon said. "I hope you will be very happy in your new life at the Dragon Temple."
"Yes," Ignitus said distractedly. "Ishlandur, may I ask you a question?" Without waiting for an answer, he said, "Who was that purple dragon just now?"
"Oh, him?" Ishlandur rumbled kindly, staring at the purple shape now disappearing into the distance. "He was an apprentice of mine at the temple, many years ago. Very talented. He lives at the Dragon Temple now, though he is neither a Guardian nor apprentice." He returned his gaze to Ignitus, smiling. "His name is Malefor."