ed Helen.
A couple of months had passed since Aldaron had found Admir, and the dragon had grown remarkably, almost reaching his height. Their bond had deepened, and Aldaron never felt alone with Admir by his side. He had spent a lot of time making the cave more welcoming, turning it into a safe refuge for both of them.
That day, while Aldaron was gathering herbs near the cave, he suddenly came face to face with the man who had kidnapped him months before. His heart stopped. The emotional scar from that dark time reopened in an instant. The man's cruel gaze and the wicked smile on his lips resurfaced in his mind, bringing back memories of fear and pain.
For a moment, Aldaron was paralyzed, his body unable to move while his mind screamed at him to run. Then, as if his fear had transformed into a sudden survival instinct, he turned and started running as fast as he could.
The village was not far, and Aldaron knew he had to reach a crowded place. The man chased after him, his heavy footsteps and menacing shouts far too close.
When he finally reached the village, Aldaron found himself immersed in the chaos of the marketplace. The stalls were packed with people, and the air was filled with voices, the scent of spices, and the noise of goods being moved. Aldaron ran through the crowd, trying to blend in among the people. The market was his only chance to hide.
His breath came in ragged gasps as he pushed past crates of fruit and squeezed between passersby, still feeling the man behind him. Fear drove him forward, but deep inside, he knew he couldn't run forever. Admir wasn't with him at that moment, and Aldaron felt vulnerable without his draconic companion.
The noise of the crowd around him seemed muffled; his only thought was to get as far away from his pursuer as possible. But just as he turned a corner, he realized the man had managed to follow him, and their eyes locked once more. Aldaron knew he had to find a way out, or everything would be over.
Aldaron ran without stopping, his heart pounding frantically in his chest, when he collided with a sturdy man with gray hair and a scar running across his forehead. The impact nearly knocked him over, but instinct made him move quickly, hiding behind the man as if he were an improvised shield.
Aldaron's breath caught as he heard his captor's voice approaching, filled with anger and threats. The predator was now right in front of them, his imposing figure towering over them, and his fierce gaze fixed on Aldaron. "That brat is mine. Hand him over immediately," the kidnapper demanded, reaching out to grab Aldaron with a swift motion.
But the gray-haired man did not move an inch. With a firm gesture, he seized the kidnapper's wrist, stopping him before he could touch Aldaron. His voice was low but filled with authority: "Don't touch him. He's under my protection."
The kidnapper hissed in anger, struggling to free himself from the man's grip. "You have no idea who I am. This is none of your concern."
The man with the determined eyes stared at him without flinching. "What I do know is that you've terrorized a child and are now trying to take him back. I suggest you leave before things get worse for you."
The tension in the air was palpable, but the gray-haired man showed no fear. He said something to the kidnapper in a low voice, words that Aldaron couldn't catch, but they were enough to make his tormentor hesitate. With a look full of frustration and irritated movements, the kidnapper left, casting one last threatening glance before disappearing into the crowd.
Aldaron let out a deep breath, his body still tense. The man turned to him, lowering himself slightly to look him in the eyes. "Are you alright, kid?" he asked, his voice revealing genuine concern.
Aldaron nodded weakly, his hands still trembling. The man observed him for a moment, then gently placed a hand on his shoulder. "Come with me. You're safe now."
He led him to his home, a small but cozy house on the outskirts of the village. As they entered, a blonde woman with a kind face greeted them, surprised to see her husband with a stranger. "Who is this boy?" she asked, stepping closer.
The man quickly explained the situation, recounting how he had found Aldaron being chased by a violent man and had defended him. The woman listened attentively, her expression darkening with anger as she learned what Aldaron had been through. "That's terrible," she said, shaking her head. Then, looking at Aldaron with warmth, she gestured toward the table. "Come, dear. Sit down. I'll fix you something to eat."
Aldaron hesitated for a moment before following her invitation, reassured by her gentle voice. He sat at the table while the woman began preparing food, and the man remained nearby, as if to ensure that he was truly safe. For the first time in a long while, Aldaron felt sheltered, surrounded by people who seemed to genuinely care about him.
Aldaron soon learned that the man who had helped him was named Jeod, and his kind wife was Helen. The couple welcomed him into their home without hesitation, treating him as if he were part of the family.
Jeod was a learned man, often immersed in his books and manuscripts. Aldaron watched him with curiosity but never dared to disturb him while he studied. So, he spent most of his time with Helen, who was always busy with her daily tasks.
Helen was sweet and patient, and she never seemed bothered by Aldaron's presence. She taught him how to shop at the market, showing him how to pick the best produce and bargain with the vendors. Aldaron, who had never lived a normal life before, found these moments fascinating and strangely comforting.
At home, he helped Helen with cooking and cleaning, and though he wasn't used to such tasks, he learned quickly. Helen assigned him simple chores, like chopping vegetables or sweeping the floor, and Aldaron felt useful for the first time.
Even though his life in Jeod and Helen's home was peaceful, Aldaron couldn't forget what he had been through and the fear that still haunted him. However, Helen's company was a source of comfort. She always seemed to know how to put him at ease, talking to him about lighthearted topics and telling him stories from their life.
One day, while helping Helen hang the laundry under the sun, Aldaron stopped and looked at her, a shy smile on his face. "Thank you... for everything," he said, with sincerity and a hint of hesitation in his voice.
Helen turned to him, gently placing a hand on his head. "You don't need to thank me, dear. You are safe here, and this is your home for as long as you wish."
Those words struck Aldaron deeply. For the first time, he felt like he belonged somewhere, like he was accepted for who he was.
Jeod noticed the spiral-shaped scar on Aldaron's palm one afternoon while the boy was handing him a book from the shelf. For a moment, he stood still, staring at the scar with wide eyes. The color drained from his face, and with a trembling voice, he exclaimed, "This is... You're a Rider!"
Aldaron looked at him in confusion, instinctively pulling his hand back. "A Rider? I don't understand... What does that mean?"
Jeod wasted no time and gently took Aldaron by the arm, leading him into the library. Once inside, he began rummaging through his books, searching frantically for something. "A Dragon Rider, boy. That scar on your palm is the gedwëy ignasia. It means you are bonded to a dragon. It's an ancient and sacred symbol," he explained, placing a large tome on the table and flipping through its pages quickly.
Aldaron was even more confused, but something inside him stirred. That word—Rider—seemed to resonate deep within his soul. "But... what does it mean to be a Rider? What does it involve?" he asked hesitantly.
Jeod paused, placing a hand on Aldaron's shoulder. "Being a Rider means being bonded to a dragon for life. It's a deep connection that goes beyond words. It means protecting your people, learning magic, and bringing balance to a world that desperately needs it. But most of all, it means that your fate is intertwined with your dragon's."
Aldaron looked down at his palm, where the Mark faintly glowed under the room's light. "My dragon... Admir," he murmured.
Jeod's eyes lit up. "Where is he?"
Aldaron nodded. "He's in a hidden cave, not far from here. That's where we met... and where I left him when I came to the village."
Jeod seemed both relieved and concerned. "Then we must move quickly. You can't stay away from Admir for too long. A young dragon needs his Rider just as much as you need him. And we don't know who might be interested in him... or in you."
Those words made Aldaron's heart tighten. He could feel the truth in Jeod's words, but he couldn't shake off the guilt of having left Admir alone, even if only for a short time. "What do we need to do?" he asked with determination.
Jeod smiled, his gaze firm. "First, we need to make sure you understand what it truly means to be a Rider. And then, we're going to get your dragon. It's time for you and Admir to truly begin your journey."