Chapter Four
The Book of the Riders
Disclaimer: See chapter Two
The three were snapped out of their reverie by a crystal-clear, ringing, note.
They looked up, and saw the big rider who'd chastised Kialandi earlier.
'Ladies and gentlemen, it is my pleasure to present too you all, the four newest members of our order.' He said in a gruff, clear voice, the sort of voice you found yourself listening too because the owner was normally shouting drinks at a pub.
The crowd clapped, until the rider motioned for silence.
'The first of our new riders, is Jarren Miles, the son of Bastion Miles, captain of the Indomitable Spirit.' Said the rider, and Jarren stood, his dragon jumped into his arms, and he stepped up beside the rider, and bowing low from the waist, rather theatrically.
The crowd gave him a standing ovation, and he waved it off modestly.
The bearded rider motioned for quiet and the crowd settled.
'Our second new rider, is Sarah Coburg, the daughter of Ismira and Markus Coburg.' Said the rider, and Sarah went and stood beside Jarren.
The crowd clapped politely, but many of the poorer inhabitants of the city clapped loudly, and several cheered.
Again, the bearded rider motioned for quiet, while Sarah blushed, embarrassed at all the attention, and gave a small wave, as the crowd quieted again.
'The third new rider, is Kialandi Aldmer, the son of the esteemed Davia Aldmer.' Said the rider, letting a note of distaste enter his tone, as Kialandi stood beside Sarah.
There was polite applause from the crowd, and some louder applause from where the richer folk were seated, but the general populace were less enthusiastic about Kialandi joining the riders, as he was generally considered an utter bastard, and not much more that was pleasant.
Kialandi inclined his head in acknowledgement of the recognition.
The applause died quickly, this time the big bearded rider didn't need to motion for silence.
'The last of our new riders, but by no means the least, is Jesse O'Malley.' He said briefly, not elaborating further, as Jesse came and stood beside Kialandi, 'accidentally', standing on the nobles foot, making Kialandi wince.
Many of the mid-class and upper class shouted in outrage, while the rest of the mid-class and all of the lower-class guests clapped and cheered, giving Jesse a standing ovation similar to what they'd given Jarren.
Most of them didn't know him, but seeing a shabbily clothed youth, with dirty, overlong hair, who was obviously from the poorer parts of town gave the poorer populace hope that one day, their lives could change for the better as well.
Jesse smiled, bowed very low, and with a flourish that even the upper-class nobs had to admit was flattering, then parodied a salute to the crowd.
This made the half of the mid-class who supported Jesse, and the lower-class applaud and cheer all the louder, while it silenced the rest of the mid-class who were with the upper-class.
The upper-class began to rant and rave all the louder, one in particular,-probably Davia Aldmer,- called for Jesse to be flogged and thrown out.
Jesse smiled a wicked smile at the rich-class, who bayed even louder for Jesse's blood, which made the lower-class snigger.
Despite himself, the big rider smiled into his beard and chuckled, the boy could play a crowd as good as an elf could play a harp.
'Alright, alright, settle down, he might be a bit rough around the edges, but he's up here, so that means he's got good in him; So shut up Davia!' The rider shouted the last bit, startling Davia in mid rant, and as Jesse had surmised, it was Davia who'd been calling for him to be flogged.
The noble scowled and fell quiet, as the poorer folk laughed loudly.
The big rider motioned for quiet, and it fell, slowly, and punctured hear and there by sniggers, and bursts of merriment.
'As of now, the feast of ascension is over for another year, we hope to see you all again next year, until then: Atra du evarìnya, and good night.' He finished as the knights of the citadel stepped forward to assist anyone to move who might've been reluctant, or too drunk to leave under their own power.
As the guests filed out, Jesse seemed to realise he was standing on Kialandi's foot, and leaning on that leg.
Jesse stepped off with a sarcastic: 'Oh, sorry, I thought that that was a loose board.'
The big rider said nothing, Kialandi was getting his come-uppance for being such an arse before joining the riders, he didn't do anything to stop it, because all the riders agreed Jesse knew where to draw the line.
When all the revellers were gone, the riders escorted their eight newest recruits back inside the citadel and into a small annex chamber, on a table was a thick, leather bound book.
One of the riders, a slightly short man, with short red hair, and sun-tanned, weather beaten skin, opened it to a page that was half blank.
'This is the Book of Names; Every rider, and every dragon that is paired with a rider, has their names written here, from Eragon the Scion, and Bid'Daum the Peacemaker, to the last initiates we inducted,-all have their names written here, and more than a few used this as an opportunity, and a great one: It is a chance to choose a name for yourself, a name that is yours, and only yours.' He said reverently, taking a quill and an ink bottle from a pouch on his belt.
'Who will be first?' Asked the rider, stepping aside.
Jesse stepped forward, then hesitated.
He shrugged then turned around. 'Ladies first, you go Sarah.' He said stepping aside, and allowing the girl too etch her name onto the paper.
After a minute, she rose, and stepped aside, looking slightly self-conscious.
Probably wondering if she picked the right name for her dragon-partner. One of the riders told Jesse.
Jesse reached out, hesitantly and replied:We pick our dragon's names? He asked thrown off-guard.
The rider,-the man who'd opened the book, blinked in surprise. Why, yes, young Jesse, they can't very well pick at the stage of mental acuity they have at that age, now can they? He asked. Of course, many dragons choose their own when they're old enough and abandon the one they're given, but for the first few months it's convenient.
Jesse remained silent, resolving that he'd ask his dragon before deciding on a name.
Jarren tapping Jesse's shoulder snapped Jesse out of his reverie.
As he went to step past him, Kialandi knocked Jesse out of the way, and began scribbling his name in the book.
I'll shave him tonight, and glue that head of hair of his to his chest. Thought Jesse angrily.
Although he didn't notice, all the thirteen adult dragons, and several of the riders snickered in amusement.
When Kialandi had finished agonising over the Book of Names, and stepped aside, Jesse, and his dragon partner perched on his shoulder, stood before the book.
Jesse knew how to write. Hell, to keep in practice with reading and writing, he often wrote his own stories, and, on more than one occasion, had taken to reading some of his better ones out to entertain acquaintances, and his few friends, even reading to crowds for money if he was desperate, and too wary of stealing something.
He picked up the quill and thought hard.
One thing he was immediately sure of: There was not a snow flake's chance in hell, he was going to remain Jesse O'Malley.
He thought for a moment.
…Aragon… The thought drifted into Jesse's head, like it had when he'd first picked up the dragon.
Without hesitation, Jesse immediately wrote 'Aragon' on the line below where Kialandi had written 'Kialandì', Jesse noted that both Sarah and Jarren had kept their names the same.
Jesse thought for a moment, then grinned, before adding 'The Grey' to his name.
This done, Aragon the Grey turned his attention too the second column.
Kialandì had written in this column: 'Khârn'.
Sarah had written 'Marinæ'.
Jarren had written 'Infernia'.
Aragon realised that the second column was for the names of their dragons.
Aragon tapped the quill against his chin, then glanced at his dragon.
What do you think? He asked it.
The dragon looked him straight in the eyes.
Instead of the grey he'd been expecting, the dragon's eyes appeared… more human, and were a soft blue-green.
It cocked it's head and seemed to consider. Fortune, Fortuna, or something along those lines. Answered the dragon after a moment, it's voice was unmistakably female, and sounded youthful, but tempered with uncanny wisdom.
Aragon blinked in surprise, and many of the riders looked at the little dragon sharply.
She jumped off Aragon's shoulder, and flew up onto his head, coiling her tail around his skull, and surveyed all the riders looking at her.
After a moment, all the riders looked too the ground, and appeared to be deep in thought.
Then a thought struck Aragon. 'What's the Ancient Language word for 'fortune'?' He asked the elf who'd saved his life.
'Thelduin,' is the word for fortune, initiate Jesse,' she answered in her lilting accent.
'It's Aragon the Grey now.' Replied Aragon as he wrote 'Thelduin,' in the column under 'Khârn'.
Good choice, powerful, and descriptive, but how about a bit more flair? Asked Thelduin after a moment.
Aragon smiled, then asked: 'What is the word for 'Star?'
It was the big rider who'd chastened Kialandì, who answered. 'The word for 'star', is 'Evar', if I remember correctly.' He said in his deep, rumbling voice.
Aragon nodded, and wrote 'Evar-Skulblaka', to the end of 'Thelduin'.
Thelduin Star-dragon? How's that sound? Aragon asked.
Thelduin hummed in contentment. I like it, it has style, but it isn't over stated, thank you. She said, with gratitude.
Aragon set down the quill and stood up.
He sighed heavily and looked around at the assembled riders.
'So, what next?' He asked eagerly.
This chapter didn't see that heavy an edit.
Just some tweaking here and there to clarify the fact that Kialandì was an elf, and that dragons usually pick their own names when they're old enough to do so.
Also, I've based Thelduin on a picture on NeonDragonArt . com, so I'd just like to acknowledge J. "NeonDragon" Peffer, as the artist.
No One-liners!