Chapter Two
The Choice of Jesse O'Malley
Disclaimer: I do not own the Inheritance cycle, but any characters that are original belong too me.
Oh, and I better warn you all, I'm not afraid to use coarse, and occasionally highly inventive swearing as a writing tool.
Not to mention blood, guts and gore.
The riders withdrew from Jesse's mind, and he regained mobility once more.
He let out a shaky breath, although he didn't smile.
He quite agreed with the female rider who'd stood up to Dorian: Dorian was a complete bastard, and a prejudiced ass.
Jesse relaxed slightly, confident that he'd just passed through the fire in terms of the 'test', and come out the other side.
He watched, as one at a time, the others assembled underwent the test, often with entertaining results.
He particularly enjoyed seeing all the cockiness, arrogance, self-importance, swagger, and colour drain from Kialandi under the impassive stares of the riders.
It was practically the best thing he'd seen in his fifteen years.
The girl stiffened when the riders entered her mind, and her pupils contracted in fear, but it passed, and when the riders finished examining her, she sagged visibly.
Jesse nearly went to support her, but Kialandi beat him to it.
Jesse mentally pictured the elf being torn apart by an urgal war-band, which cheered him up.
It cheered him even more when the sleazy smile on Kialandi's face was wiped off by a few choice words from the girl that Jesse didn't catch.
When finally the test was over, the riders came to life, calling names.
'Jesse O'Malley, Sarah Coburg, Kialandi Aldmer, Jarren Miles, step forward.' Intoned Dorian sonorously.
The four complied.
'The rest of you, will be escorted out by the knights of the citadel, you have failed our test, and are oath-bound not to reveal the nature of the test to any who ask; Remember what we told you, and feel free to try next year. Enjoy the festivities.' Said one of the riders who'd supported Jesse's inclusion, in a neutral tone, that resonated with authority unchallengeable.
There were looks of bitterest disappointment on the faces of those who'd been rejected, and on a few were acceptance, these ones bowed to those assembled, before they were shown out, along with all the others.
When the doors banged shut once more, the riders relaxed their impassive stances, and more than one let out relieved sighs, one of them, who appeared to be the youngest of the assembled, laughed shakily.
Kialandi, the girl Sarah, and the other boy, Jarren, all looked elated.
Jesse, felt cheated, but refrained from arguing his case, apparently Master Dorian was too influential a figure to be swayed.
Dorian stepped forward and regarded the four figures before him.
'You may think that you have achieved something, passing this initial test, but the truth is, you've achieved nothing yet, now it is up to the unhatched dragons, it is their judgement, not ours you must pass.' Said Dorian, smirking smugly, as he raised his left hand, and sixteen pillars all at waist height to Jesse, formed out of the stone of the hall's floor.
Jesse's eyebrows rose in awe, despite himself.
Will I be able to do that someday if I join the riders? Wondered Jesse silently.
A hidden door banged open at the opposite end of the hall to the four aspirants, and sixteen hooded figures filed in, each reverently bearing a dragon's egg the size of a large rock, but flawless, and perfectly ovaloid in shape.
Jesse felt his chest tighten as the sixteen egg-bearers, placed their charges on the pedestals, and filed to the sides of the room, standing just in front of the riders, at the edges of the pillar-field.
'You may choose any egg you wish; if one egg doesn't hatch for you, move on too another, after you have returned the egg you just touched to it's pedestal.
Remember thief-boy, you only have one chance at this, if you touch an egg, even by accident, and it doesn't hatch for you, your chance will have been used, and you will be thrown out after the others. Dorian said, with evident relish to Jesse.
Jesse had to use all his self control to refrain from replying with go to hell.
Jesse wandered through the forest of columns, careful not to approach any of the columns, until he felt absolutely sure about the egg atop it.
His eyes kept returning to one in particular: A flint-grey egg with a pearly, sheen to it.
After he'd wandered past all the eggs twice, Jesse approached the silver-grey egg that kept drawing his attention, and reverently went too lay his hands upon it, when out of nowhere, came Kialandi, and bumped into Jesse, using the supposed clumsiness to disguise a shove at Jesse, which sent him staggering into another pillar, where Jesse tripped and slammed back first into the pillar, knocking the egg into Jesse's lap.
Jesse could only watch in apoplectic, impotent rage, as Kialandi picked up the egg Jesse had been about to touch.
Nothing happened.
Kialandi casually replaced the egg, then turned to the pillar Jesse had fallen against, and casually picked the purple egg, that hadn't hatched for Jesse, out of Jesse's lap, and shot him a malicious grin, as the purple egg cracked open in his hands, and a dragon the colour of lavender, the same shade as the egg, crawled out and into Kialandi's arms.
Jesse got back up and tried to touch the grey egg, and his heart leapt as his hand came within a finger's-breadth of the egg's surface, only to have Dorian intercept his hand.
An equally malicious look was in Dorian's eyes, and that's when it hit Jesse that the Master of the Citadel had told Kialandi to ruin Jesse's chances.
'You bastard son of a bitch!' Hissed Jesse in fury.
Dorian was unmoved, but Jesse didn't need telepathy to tell that Dorian was ecstatic.
'You have used your chance, Jesse O'Malley, feel free to try again next year.' He said in the same sonorous tone that he'd used to call out he and the other three.
'That's not fair, Kialandi shoved Jesse into that pillar when he was about to touch that grey egg!' Said the girl, Sarah, in outrage, a sapphire and green dappled, dragon was cradled in her arms, and a Gedwëy Ignasia marked her left hand.
'Yeah, you should be throwin' Kialandi out, not him!' Agreed Jarren indignantly. He cradled a mottled red, orange and yellow dragon in his arms, and he too, had a Gedwëy Ignasia, only his was on his right hand.
'Be silent!' Snapped Dorian fiercely, 'this boy showed up of his own volition, has been shown to be a thief, and has demonstrated that he will challenge all authority, such arrogance will not be tolerated, I gave him a chance, and it has been used, even if he had no choice in the matter, it is not the place of two initiates, barely two minutes into our order to question the decisions of a master, who has nearly three centuries of experience!' A blazing, manic light was in Dorian's eyes.
Jesse hung his head in despair.
He'd been cheated! Cheated by a spiteful noble, and a prejudiced rider! His chance had passed him by.
Then, Jesse's eyes alighted on the egg again.
Do it! Screamed something in Jesse's mind; It could have been one of the other riders, or one of the dragons, or it could've been the dragon in the egg, or even Jesse's own rebellious nature.
It could have been all four.
Whichever it was, Jesse acted on it: He kneed Dorian in the groin, gave him a shove for good measure, which sent him reeling onto his back on the floor in shock and pain.
Kialandi went to restrain Jesse, but Jesse was like a cornered, injured wolf: desperate, manic, and dangerous.
He floored Kialandi with a punch that had all the force of Kialandi's own momentum, Jesse's shoulder, fury, desperation, and hatred behind it.
The blow was so strong it lifted Kialandi clean off his feet and when he hit the ground, he went skidding a full three feet backwards; it also broke Kialandi's nose.
None of this registered to Jesse, as he sprinted past the writhing Dorian, past the limp and bloodied Kialandi, and reached the pillar as Dorian mastered his pain, and came to his feet, sword in hand.
He was halfway to Jesse when he grabbed the egg with both hands.
'No you don't you, callow, malformed, whoreson!' He roared, striking at Jesse from behind, but Jesse was beyond listening.
Jesse O'Malley was buried under a torrent of desperation and adrenalin.
He rolled out of the way, displaying incredible reflexes, and Dorian's gold-yellow sword skated off the stone pillar.
He turned snarling in fury to see Jesse, egg still clutched against his chest, in a crouch, eyes alive and attentive.
Dorian lunged, but missed as Jesse rolled clear again-
Right into Kialandi's waiting arms.
The new rider kicked Jesse onto his back, and Dorian lunged for the third time, as Kialandi was set upon by Jarren Miles and Sarah Coburg who laid into Kialandi fists flying, and fury alive and burning.
Jesse went to scramble aside, but realised he'd never make it.
Using the egg to protect himself from the murderous blade of Dorian's sword didn't even cross Jesse's mind, not because he knew the sword would cut through the egg like a knife through bread, but more because the thought of killing the dragon inside to save himself was repellent.
Jesse just stared at the deranged rider and a calm acceptance came over him: If he was going to die in pursuit of his dream, so be it.
As Dorian brought his sword down in a murderous, two-handed blow that would disembowel Jesse from the torso down, an emerald-and-silver sword intercepted it and turned it aside.
This was followed by a lightning fast punch to the solar plexus that knocked Dorian unconscious.
Dorian's sword clattered to the ground, and Dorian himself fell backwards in a heap.
Jesse looked at his rescuer.
She was, quite simply, gorgeous.
She was an elf with unblemished alabaster skin, long, silky black hair with a streak of purple along the left hand side,-an effect that Jesse assumed she'd used magic to achieve,- kind, and, it had to be said mischievous, blue eyes, and angled features.
She was also, heavily armed.
Along with the sword in her hand, she had at least six other, shorter knives on her person: Two long knives on her back, two boot knives, and two others at her belt.
Also on her back was a short bow, and a quiverful of arrows with hawk feathered fletching.
She was also wearing burnished silver elven plate armour.
'I think we can all agree that the Master of the Citadel was a long way out of line there, and deserved that.' Said the elven rider calmly as she sheathed her sword.
Nobody agreed with her, but nobody disagreed either, deciding plausible deniability was the best course of action.
This to has seen an edit, though it mightn't be too obvious if you haven't read Inheritance.
I used to have Kialandi's dragon as maroon, which I've changed to purple to match new info in Inheritance.
I already invoke poetic licence a fair bit with my stories, and I like to keep things canon-accurate.
Of course, thanks to Du Namar Aubodr, I can name the dragons of the Forsworn whatever I like.
No One-liners!