Author: A. D. Trosper
Date: 2014-02-12 04:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Fantasy
Description: In the War of Fire, death often heralds a new beginning… Dragons, magic, and war are commonplace for sixteen year old Emallya. Though she longs for the simple life of hearth and home, some things are not meant to be. Her dreams for the future are changed in a single night when battle breaches the walls of her home, and she finds her true calling. The innocent hopes of youth are cast aside as Emallya steps forward into a future she never imagined for herself. *This is a short story within the Dragon's Call world and includes a bonus a peek into Embers at Galdrilene, the first Dragon's Call book
Publisher: A.D. Trosper

A NEW BEGINNING

Copyright © 2014 A.D. Trosper

All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without prior written permission of the publisher.

This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Published by

Silver Spirit Publishing

ISBN-13: 978-0615970516

ISBN-10: 0615970516

Emallya hurried through the chilly evening air and pulled her wool cloak tighter, wrapping it around her slim figure. Unease prickled over her and raised the hairs on her arms. For a moment the air felt oily, and something stirred in her mind.

She paused. The wind tossed her chestnut hair across her face. Pushing it away, she closed her eyes and reached out with her mind.

The gathering darkness felt unusually still. Guards walked the wall of the village; their tension palpable. Something was out there, creeping through the night-shrouded grasslands beyond the town. A nervous knot settled in her stomach. Whatever it was, she prayed to the Fates that it wouldn’t strike tonight.

Except Emallya knew better. She felt them. Her mental powers grew stronger by the day. Soon, she would have to seek passage to Galdrilene and begin training. Already, her mother was the only one she could touch without being overloaded by thoughts and emotions.

In her sixteen years, Emallya had wanted nothing more than what her mother had; a comfortable house, a loving husband, and many children.

She gave herself a mental shake and started walking again. Her mother needed the Healing mage. Now was not the time for childish dreams and wishes. Some things were not meant to be and that was that.

The neat little house with its well-maintained garden came into view, and she followed the narrow path through the many plants to the door. A black-haired woman with green eyes answered her knock. Though young for her station, the mage wore the bright yellow robes of a senior mage.

“Please come, Araina.”

Araina nodded and grabbed a small leather bag from a table next to the door. “Your mother’s time has come then?” Though it wasn’t a question, Emallya nodded.

The Yellow wasted no time talking; instead, she moved down the path with such quick, purposeful strides that Emallya had to trot to keep up.

As they neared Emallya’s house, chaos shattered the quiet night. Shouts of men and women along the wall, and roars beyond it, filled the air. Bells clanged in warning; a sound that was altogether too familiar.

Araina grabbed Emallya’s hand and raced the remaining distance to the large, rambling home that housed Emallya’s family.

Her father yanked open the door. Dressed in full battle gear, he paused long enough to place a comforting hand upon her shoulder. “Take care of your mother and siblings. Keep a sword with you.” And then he disappeared into the night, running toward the sounds of battle.

As the Yellow swept through the front room and into the nearest bedroom, Emallya moved throughout the house extinguishing lamps and candles. It was routine anytime the bells tolled.

Shendal, her twin brother, helped her gather their younger brothers and sisters and herd them into the room where her mother lay. They needed to stay together in case the conflict spilled into the village.

Emallya clasped her mother’s hand and tried not to tremble as the sounds of battle drew closer. Tallayna squeezed her hand and panted through another contraction.

Light flickered over the darkened room, casting her mother’s face in an orange glow. Emallya wiped Tallayna’s forehead with a damp cloth and glanced out the window at the flames that engulfed their neighbor’s home. The wings of a low-flying dragon whipped the wind around the outside of the house, and dust swirled past the window. More fire lit up the night, alternating between the bright orange of the Guardian Dragons and the sickly green of the Shadow Dragons. Mages worked together from the ground, wielding their magic against the attacking Kojen and Shadow Riders.

Though battles were a way of life, they had never carried into the village before. Nestled in the grasslands not far from the capital, they had always been buffered by the border towns from the worst of the attacks.

A soft hum whispered through her mind, and Emallya nearly jumped off the bed. She froze, holding her breath while she waited to hear it again. Comforting and crooning, she heard its sweet call and her heart leapt. She was called. It wasn’t anything she expected, or even wanted, but there was no denying it. Now Emallya understood the stirring she’d felt in her mind. She would be going to Galdrilene for more than mage training.

Emallya glanced out the window again, watching men and women fight Kojen in the light of the fire. She was called, but would she live long enough to answer it?

Tallayna stifled a groan, her face wet with perspiration. Emallya read the fear in her mother’s mind. A deep terror that she might die before giving birth, and if the battle carried into the house, that she would be helpless to defend her other children.

“You must be quiet.” The Yellow’s urgent tone confirmed the fear that Emallya sensed in her as well. Newly arrived from Galdrilene, the senior mage had faced Kojen only once before. Emallya would never forget the stark terror that had filled the woman’s face a week earlier when the Kojen came within sight of the walls.

The emotions emanating from everyone in the room combined together and crept inside her until a dull ache spread through Emallya’s head.

Tallayna nodded but groaned again as she bore down with the urge to push. Emallya’s heart thundered in her chest. The clang of steel now echoed outside the house. She glanced at the sword next to the bed. Although her father had spent some time showing her how to use it, she wasn’t good with it. A sword wasn’t something she’d ever had the desire to use.

The front door shuddered under a heavy blow. Tallayna gasped, her eyes wide. Quiet whimpers broke out among Emallya’s younger siblings. She looked at their huddled forms. Only Shendal stood apart from them. He held a sword in his hands and braced his tall, wiry frame between the door and their younger brothers and sisters.

Something slammed against the door again. The wood shook, and the hinges creaked. Emallya pulled away from her mother and grabbed the sword next to the bed in her sweaty palms.

The Yellow whispered prayers to the Fates, frantically trying to wipe away blood and birthing fluids. She looked up at Emallya as terror pooled in her wide eyes. “I have to get this cleaned up. They will smell the blood.”

Emallya shook her head. The mage needed to get it together. “Then you might as well quit trying to wipe it away and concentrate on catching the babe when it comes. They will smell it anyway, and it is not as if my mother can stop giving birth.”

She walked past the woman and out of the room. Her brother followed, closing the door to the sleeping room behind him. Emallya planted her feet and braced herself, trying to calm her racing heart as the front door shuddered again. The wood splintered. Emallya glanced at her brother. “We cannot let them get past us, no matter what.”

He gave her a tight nod. “I know.”

The door shattered and pieces of wood flew into the room. They both waited anxiously as they stared at the ruined doorway. At first, only smoke filled the night beyond. Confusion mixed with tension poured through Emallya. She blinked against the sting of smoke, her sword tip dipping toward the floor. A snarl rippled through the air as a Kojen moved into the room, the wood planks of the floor creaking under its massive weight. Emallya froze, her breath catching in her throat when it lifted its face and sniffed the air. Firelight flickered over its dark purple skin and reflected off the stained steel of its sword. The heavy curled horns on its broad head brushed the ceiling. It issued an earsplitting roar, revealing sharp canine teeth.

Shendal moved first, leaping to meet the creature. More Kojen came out of the night, filling the house with their stench. Emallya brought her sword up, deflecting the solid blow of the second Kojen and staggered back, her arms vibrating from the impact. The weight of its mental attack came up against her mind’s walls and it struggled to maintain them. Now she had to fight the enormous beast on two levels.

The sweet song of the dragon hum called to her. Emallya reached for it. There was no way she was good enough with a sword to live through this without the dragon’s help. She surrendered herself to the call; accepted it with every fiber of her being.

Energy flowed into her body. It wrapped around her mind and formed a barrier against the Kojen’s mental attack. Strength poured into her muscles and she moved with speed that wasn’t hers as she brought her sword up against the creature. Surprise flushed through her when she managed to bring down the beast.

A scream cut through her concentration, freezing the air in her lungs. Emallya jumped back and turned to see Shendal fall to the floor, his torso nearly cut in half. Blood poured across the smooth boards as he gasped and shuddered. The walls closed in around Emallya as she watched the life in her brother’s eyes fade.

Panting, she backed away from the advancing Kojen. Her sword clattered to the wooden planks of the floor. She grabbed her head; emotions raged through her mind, not all of them hers. Power built from deep within. The Kojen seemed to move in slow motion as they lurched toward her. Without conscious thought, without understanding, Emallya wove thick bands of silver together within her mind and lashed out with the power.

The weaves spun across the small space and settled onto the beasts’ heads. More strands of the woven magic flew out through the door. Emallya could feel the strands drape over every Kojen in the village. In her mind, she grabbed on the one strand holding all of the weaves together and yanked it tight. The individual weaves collapsed into the minds of the beasts, crushing them.

The Kojen stopped and their broad, flat faces went slack. Their swords fell from limp hands. They swayed and then dropped. She stared at the unmoving beasts as the power receded and the energy in her mind returned to a quiet hum. Exhaustion swept through her and she slumped to the floor, barely able to keep her eyes open.

Mernoth slammed his body into a Shadow Dragon, the impact jerking Bardeck in the saddle. The gold sunk his claws into the black scales. His massive jaws ripped the rider from the Shadow’s back, and dropped the torn and broken body to the ground. The Shadow Dragon screamed, its body collapsing in on itself while it snapped uselessly at the air. Mernoth released the dying black dragon and let it fall.

Bardeck scanned the sky. There were no more foul Shadows. The rest had likely Jumped back to the Kormai. Strange they would suddenly go hide in their desert mountain and abandon their Kojen when there had been a serious chance of taking the village.

“Something is happening,” Mernoth sent.

Bardeck followed the dragon’s line of sight through their mental connection. On the ground below, Kojen were dropping dead without being touched. He had seen this happen only once—five years earlier during the first battle he and Mernoth had fought. A Spirit weave was in motion, handled by a powerful Spirit user. There were no Silver Riders in Sharren at the moment, and a mage wouldn’t have the strength to use that weave.

At least the sudden Jump by the Shadow Riders made sense now. “Someone down there emerged and has the strength be a Dragon Rider,” Bardeck returned.

“So it would seem, my rider.” Mernoth angled his wings for a landing and glided toward the ground. Like most villages, this one had an extra wide street in the middle. It provided a place where dragons could land without damaging their wings on any structures. Working his wings in short bursts, the gold settled on the hard-packed dirt.

Fires burned everywhere, and thick plumes of smoke hung thick in the cold air. Nearby, two red dragons landed and their riders leaped from the saddles. Though Bardeck couldn’t see the weaves they used, only a Silver could sense all of the powers, he knew they were putting everything they had into bringing the fires under control.

Bardeck pulled on his power and raised a shield of light around the burning structures. It glowed softly in the night. He adjusted the weave to allow living things out. It also let the smoke escape, leaving only the fire trapped inside the shield. It would make the work easier for those putting out the flames.

The dead villagers lay strewn among the bodies of the Kojen—the price for the defense of the village paid for in lives. The stench of burning flesh mixed with the scent of blood and innards spilled on the ground. Bardeck covered his mouth and coughed, yet he needed to block it out. Somewhere in this mess was a magic user. And not just any magic user; it was a Silver. He moved toward two of the mages; three people searching were better than one. The smoke blew on the wind, obscuring them briefly, before drifting away. His eyes watered from the irritation.

“It radiated out from that direction. We should start there.” The woman in green robes pointed into the darkness.

“Start where?”

They both turned. Marna, the green-robed mage, pointed again. “I said the weave radiated from that direction. The Kojen dropped in a wave that started over there.”

Bardeck squinted and nodded. “It’s what I saw from the air too. Shall we see if we can find whoever it was?”

Marna nodded and started through the night, deftly stepping around the dead, human and Kojen alike.

Silence hung thick in the air, disturbed only by the crackle of flames. Shouts of victory went up outside. Several men and women in the red robes of the Fire mages ran past the open doorway. Smoke drifted in, burning Emallya’s nose and throat. They had their work cut out for them; it would be a miracle if they could bring all of the fires under control. More houses would catch before they were all contained.

The gold scales of a dragon flashed past the door followed by two red dragons as they landed. Emallya breathed a sigh of relief and struggled to her feet. With Fire Riders and a Light Rider, the flames wouldn’t spread and consume the remaining houses.

Emallya turned toward her brother and dropped to her knees beside him, heedless of the blood that soaked through the soft fabric of her dress. The sharp pain of loss squeezed her chest tight, and she struggled to breathe. Tears welled in her eyes as memories of Shendal filled her mind. Climbing trees with him down by the river. The time they slipped away with their father’s draft horse and pretended they were riding a dragon; and the trouble they had gotten into upon their return. The first time he practiced with a sword.

The memories came faster and faster like an avalanche when a sharp wail cut through her thoughts and abruptly pulled her back to the present. Emallya slowly stood and walked to the bedroom. She cracked open the door and stopped, hesitating. Her mother lay on the bed, crying as the Yellow placed a babe in her arms. Such was the time of the War of Fire. It seemed every new life was heralded by the death of another, and no family was left unscathed.

“Is everyone all right in here?”

Emallya spun back to the shattered front door, closing the one to the bedroom. A young man dressed as a rider and two older women in the robes of senior mages stepped into the house, avoiding the large mounds of the dead Kojen. Her eyes fell upon her brother when the mage in the yellow robes of the Tower of Healing knelt beside him. “He is the only casualty,” Emallya said quietly. Her mother didn’t know yet, and she deserved a chance to celebrate a new child before she had to grieve the loss of another.

The other mage, dressed in the green robes of the Tower of Earth, stared at Emallya with sharp eyes. “You can use magic, child. I can sense it in you. Since there are no Spirit mages or riders present, this must be your doing.” She glanced at the dead Kojen and pursed her lips. “And a strong talent you have to accomplish such on first emergence. Only riders can use this much power. Have you heard the call?”

Emallya nodded, not trusting herself to speak. Had her father survived the attack? He’d spent his entire life fighting in the War of Fire and was a proficient soldier. Still, there were never any guarantees when it came to war.

The man stepped forward and bowed slightly to her, the five-pointed pendant of a Dragon Rider swinging from his neck. “I am Di’shan Bardeck Darshan, rider of the Gold Mernoth. It would be my honor to escort you to Galdrilene to answer the call if you so wish.”

Emallya cleared her throat and tried to blink away the tears that spilled over despite her attempt to control them. “Thank you, Di’shan,” she answered, remembering to use the formal title of a Dragon Rider. “I will accept your escort.” She glanced at her brother’s body again. “Must I leave this instant?”

“Of course not, Foundling.” Bardeck smiled, a kind light in his eyes. “Your path is always yours to choose. When you wish to answer the call is also your choice—be it now or a year from now.”

It felt strange to be addressed as Foundling; to hear the formal title of a newly called Dragon Rider applied to her. “Thank you, Di’shan.” She gestured to Shendal’s form. “My mother doesn’t know my brother is dead, and I need to know if my father survived this attack.”

Bardeck nodded. “I will send someone to retrieve your brother so he can be prepared for burial with the rest of the dead.”

Emallya couldn’t answer. She swallowed several times and managed to whisper, “Thank you.” She was determined not to break down in front of these people.

She waited in silence after they left. Soon two junior mages arrived. They shifted Shendal’s body onto a large blanket and wrapped him. A blessed numbness settled over Emallya as they covered his face and carried him from the house. Acrid smoke still filled the chilly night air of early fall as she stood staring through the ruined doorway. The silhouettes of people flashed across the light from the fires. Though several houses still burned, most of it was under control.

“Emallya, Shendal, come and meet your newest sister,” Tallayna called, her voice muted by the door separating them.

Emallya walked slowly into the room where her younger siblings crowded around the bed to get a look at the newest member of the family.

Tallayna looked up, her eyes raking over Emallya’s blood-soaked skirt and her tear- stained face. “Emallya,” fear crept into her mother’s voice. “Where is Shendal?”

“He…” She swallowed hard as her eyes filled again. “Shendal is in Maiadar now.” Maiadar, the realm of the dead, where so many from her village resided.

Grief closed over her mother’s face. Emallya watched Tallayna struggle to control her composure in the presence of the younger children.

Eraden, her brother of only eight years shook his head, vehement denial in his expression. “Shendal cannot be in Maiadar.”

Emallya reached to embrace him, but he pulled away, glaring at her as if it was her fault. Maybe it was. If her magic had come just a few moments sooner, Shendal would still be alive. The emotions in the room swamped Emallya, and the ache in her head built until she could hardly bear it.

She walked away and passed through the front room. The bodies of the Kojen had been removed. By now they would be piled with the rest. She stepped out into the night, ignoring the blue dragon that walked past, gingerly carrying a dead Kojen in its teeth. Rank smoke billowed from the pile of burning beasts.

By the light of the bonfire she drew water from the well and carried it back into the house. It only took a moment to grab a scrub brush, towels, and a cake of soap from the kitchen. While her mother and siblings mourned together in the other room, Emallya sopped up the cold, congealed blood with the towels and scrubbed her brother’s death from the floor until only smooth wooden boards remained.

Three days later she stood with her parents and other villagers as the bodies of the dead were laid to rest. Twenty new graves filled the already crowded yard. Grass hadn’t even begun to grow over those created from the last attack. Emallya stared at the mound of soil covering her brother, barely registering the words that were spoken.

The warm, mid-day sun bathed the grassland in golden light. Emallya glanced at the city of Salendar in the distance. Tall spires, sculpted by the Earth Riders, rose above the damaged city wall where repairs were underway. What had the world been like before the War of Fire? There were tales of the beauty of Salendar, the capital of Sharren, but over fifty years of war and constant repairs had left its mark on everything, even the beautiful cities.

Off to the side the rider who had offered her passage to Galdrilene, the home of the Guardian Dragons, waited. Emallya let her gaze roam over her family. Her father, straight and proud, but full of grief at the loss of his eldest son. Her mother, unbent by years of war and worry, held her newest child in her arms while she buried another. Her brothers and sisters gathered tight together, seeking solace in each other.

As soon as the ceremony was over, Emallya would depart to answer the call. She didn’t even know her new sister’s name; her parents had been too distraught to think of one. It didn’t matter. While they would always be her family, and she was sure word of the name would reach her, Emallya was headed to a new life, a new family.

Three large shadows flashed over her and across the grassland as three dragons flew overhead, the sunlight dancing over their scales. Emallya raised her hand to her forehead, shading her eyes from the bright sky and watched them soar toward the city spires. There was such beauty and grace in the dragons. She watched until they landed at the dragon keep on the east side of the city wall.

The group of gathered mourners began to break up, each family walking away. With a start, Emallya realized it was over. Tallayna hugged her tight. “I feel like I’m losing another child.”

Her father shook his head. “This is an honor, Tallayna.” Never one to show emotions, he gave Emallya a brief, awkward hug.

Eraden embraced her, his skinny arms clasped tightly around her waist. She hugged him back just as fiercely. Would she see them again? Or would she lose more to the Shadow Riders?

Emallya brushed away a tear as she stepped away from Eraden and dropped a kiss on her youngest sister’s forehead. She didn’t want a long goodbye, and it wasn’t like it was forever. Only a few years, three at the most, before she could visit her home again.

She walked to where Bardeck leaned against his dragon, patiently waiting for her. “I am ready to answer the call, Di’shan.”

He inclined his head. “Then I would be honored to assist you, Foundling. “I am sorry your hatching comes on the heels of despair.”

Emallya glanced back at the graves. “There is always despair these days. One must find happiness when they can.” She offered him a sad smile and reached for the saddle.

Within minutes, she sat behind him on the massive gold dragon. Her stomach did a small flip as his wings came down and he launched himself into the air. The ground fell away and she closed her eyes briefly, trying to quiet the irrational fear brought on by flying for the first time.

A large whirlpool of rippling air spun open. Emallya had seen Slides open all her life, but it looked bigger from this vantage point. The dragon flew into it, and the world dissolved into a kaleidoscope of color. It lasted only a moment and then they were out the other side.

Mountains ranged all around them, marching away into the distance. It was the mountain below them that held her attention though. Half the height of those surrounding it, the mountain was an old volcano. A lake filled one end of the caldera and poured off the edge in a waterfall. The horseshoe-shaped ridge was all that remained of the crater rim.

To her right, a vast bay sheltered the shoreline from the worst of the sea’s storms. Dragons raised their voices in welcome to the arrivals, roars reverberating off the walls of the caldera. The openings of many caves fronted by broad ledges filled the inner walls. Dragons representing all six colors of their species occupied many of the ledges as well as the sunny expanse of grass near the lake—gold, blue, red, yellow, green, and silver.

Mernoth glided toward the broad inner terrace of stone that filled the toe of the horseshoe. His strong wings beat the air with heavy strokes as he settled gently on the edge of the terrace. An older woman with strands of gray showing in her red hair walked toward them.

Emallya slid down from Mernoth’s back and studied the older woman. She knew her; everyone did. Natsukynn Erenvain. At close to seven hundred years old, she and her bondmate, Jedrek were the ones that everyone looked to for direction.

Though Natsukynn was old by any standard, her face only showed a few crow’s feet gathered at the corners of her blue eyes. Her Di’shan pendant hung from a silver chain, though no one needed it to know she was a Silver Rider.

“Bardeck, you bring us another Silver. This can only bode well for Galdrilene given how fast the Shadow Dragons reproduce.” Natsukynn’s voice was strong and sure.

“How do you know I’m a Silver?” Were the rumor’s true? Did this woman really read minds the way other people read books? Did she really see the future?

Natsukynn laughed softly. “If I wished to, yes, I could read minds in such a way. Not that I have such an inclination. However, when someone broadcasts their thoughts as strongly as you, I can’t help but hear them. The future though, that’s another story. What we think is the future isn’t always what it seems.”

Emallya frowned. What kind of answer was that?

“As to how I know you’re a Silver, it’s the eyes, child. You have violet eyes. Though Silvers can have other colors, those with violet are always Silver. They’re never called to another color.” She gestured toward the caldera. “And of course my dragon, Afaerynn, has relayed everything that happened in Sharren.”

Emallya turned to look at the massive silver dragon. Her scales showed numerous, tarnished battle scars. How much fighting had the silver seen in the past fifty years? Natsukynn seemed to pick up on her thoughts. A shadow of regret fell across her face. “I have to take responsibility for each of her scars, for every death both human and dragon that has been the result of this war.”

“Why?”

Natsukynn smiled sadly. “Galdivan happened on my Watch. I missed the signs of his unstable mind. I missed the jealousy that filled him like a disease, and I missed his plans to steal eggs. If I had caught those things, Galdivan would never have been able to create the Shadow Dragons, and we would not be facing what appears to be a never ending war. A war I’m not entirely sure we can win.”

Emallya knew the story; everyone did. “I thought all of Galdrilene took the blame equally because everyone, including the other Dragon Riders and mages, failed to see it.”

“And they do, I suppose. I’m the head of Galdrilene, however, and as far as I’m concerned this falls squarely on my shoulders.” She shook her head. “No matter. Blame, pointed or accepted, will change nothing. You, my dear, have an egg to hatch, although it will be a few days before that will happen. There are some things to learn first and a protocol to follow.”

“My father trained here. I already know the workings of Galdrilene and the responsibility of the call.”

“Be that as it may, we have to make sure for ourselves that every Foundling knows exactly what they’re agreeing to before they hatch a dragon.” Natsukynn waved a plump woman with her blonde hair in a bun forward. “This is Theraia. She is the head of the Foundlings. She will ensure you have whatever you need as well as instruct you in what you need to know.”

Emallya watched Natsukynn walk away before turning to the man who had brought her. “Thank you for offering escort.”

“Always an honor to bring a Foundling to Galdrilene.” Bardeck bowed slightly and kissed her hand, his black hair fell over his forehead and his dark eyes sparkled. “I will stay until the hatching has occurred so that I may carry news of it back to Sharren. Perhaps I will have the chance to speak with you again.”

Theraia shook her head and led Emallya away. “That young man is too smooth for his own good. Half the female riders in the hold have been falling all over him since he hatched Mernoth eight years ago. You would think his charm would wear off after a while.”

“What color are you?” Emallya asked. She tried to remember all the heads of Galdrilene as she had been taught.

“I ride a red, which makes things fun. I’m not tied to any man.” She appraised Emallya. “You’re going to be a Silver though, so you will bondmate with someone.”

Bondmating. It wasn’t something Emallya had ever thought of until that moment. A bondmate was far more than a husband. He and his dragon would be connected to her and her dragon through a bond that would tie them all together. There was no way of knowing who the man would be until it happened. It was like an arranged marriage except this was decided by dragon compatibility and magic. A necessary bond. Only dragons that were part of a bondmate pair could reproduce. In this time of war, the more Silvers the better.

Theraia showed her to a small, simple room with a narrow bed against one wall and a small wardrobe against the other. “I will find some dresses that should do until the Hatching. This will be your room until your draclet chooses a lair. Take a moment to relax, and get your bearings. The mid-day meal will be served soon. I will come back and show you the way to the Dining Hall.”

Bardeck watched Theraia lead Emallya away. Until that moment, he had always felt content with nothing more than his bond with Mernoth. Now he found himself longing for more. Images of Emallya from the past few days flashed through his mind.

“Perhaps there is more for us,” Mernoth sent.

“It’s possible, I suppose. Eight years is a long time to wait. With four other Silvers hatching since you hatched, you would think we would have found our bondmate by now.”

“There are no time limits.”

Bardeck shrugged and looked at the massive golden dragon. “Perhaps. I guess all we can do is wait and see.”

Emallya spent the next few days going over the many things Galdrilene felt she should know before hatching, mostly of which she already knew. Thanks to growing up with a man trained in Galdrilene and near an outlying battle hold, she had learned most of this growing up.

Still, she couldn’t fault Galdrilene for making sure she was well aware of everything like bondmating, which would be best if it happened sooner rather than later. Silvers were vulnerable because of their powers until they had the shield of a bond to keep the emotions and thoughts of others at bay. They made sure she was well aware that even though those in a bondmate pair were the only riders who could have children, babies came rarely to them. Her dream of a house full of children was dashed. And they made sure she understood the danger of the war they faced and what her role would be.

None of it changed her decision to answer the call. The sweet song of the dragon was always in her mind. Without it, she would have died that night in Sharren. She owed her life to the draclet still in its shell; she wouldn’t deny the draclet its life by refusing her call.

When Emallya finally stood before the two heavy doors that led to the Hatching Chamber, she did so without wavering. Natsukynn stood on one side of the closed doors, her bondmate, Jedrek to the other.

Jedrek smiled and said, “Beyond this door, a future you cannot yet comprehend awaits you. Within is a very large chamber with a circle of eggs in the center. Though the chamber is large, only those Hatching and a couple of witnesses are allowed. Hatching is a personal thing.”

Natsukynn picked up the ritual. “Once we open the door, Jedrek and I will step aside. You must step through the doorway and into the chamber of your own free will. Once you are in the chamber, the compulsion to bond with your dragon will overcome you.

“You must be absolutely sure this is the path you wish to take and accept the offered gift of the bond without reservation. If you feel any doubt at all, turn and walk away from this door. At the end of the hall you will find someone ready to guide you from the Dragon Hold. No shame will be on you for your refusal. Shame can only be found in a false acceptance.”

Emallya gazed steady at the door. “I accept the gift of the call without reservation.”

The older couple opened the doors, and Emallya felt an instant pull. She stepped into the massive chamber. There were at least forty eggs within; several of them glowed softly, their humming filling the space. Emallya barely noticed them as she was drawn toward one of the glowing silver eggs. It filled her vision, her mind, her very being. As if compelled, she reached out and touched the satiny shell with her fingers. The room disappeared.

She stood in an ash field of a recently erupted volcano, the rim but a small reminder of the mountain that had once towered in its place. A dragon, its scales faded to almost white, labored to breathe. A clutch of dead eggs were around her. A woman touched the only living egg left and a silver draclet hatched, forming the first human-dragon bond.

Everything swirled and she saw a city rising from the ash; it swirled again and she saw the city, this time finished and beautiful; it swirled again and she watched dragons fall dead into a lake; it swirled once more and Shadow Dragons flew against a rising sun.

With a gasp, Emallya opened her eyes. Even after being told of the ancestral memories her draclet would share upon hatching, nothing prepared her for the rush of emotions that accompanied the Hatching. So much love, happiness, sadness, and fear. Overwhelmed, she knelt on the smooth stone floor and wept without shame.

When she was finally able to gain some control over the emotions, she raised her eyes and took in the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. A silver draclet about the size of a pony gazed back at her with large violet eyes, her damp wings somewhat folded as she stood among the large pieces of silver shell.

Emallya gently touched the soft scales of the newly hatched dragon. They wouldn’t harden until the draclet was almost a year old. Her heart swelled, bringing new tears to her eyes.

Intense hunger filled her along with love. Jedrek motioned her forward. “The older dragons have brought freshly killed elk for her to feed on. Follow me.”

Emallya climbed to her feet and started forward. “Come along, Rylin; let us get a meal into you.”

They followed Jedrek up a long, sloping tunnel that let out in the caldera. Rylin caught a whiff of the fresh blood on the breeze and rushed forward. Her dagger-like teeth and claws ripped through the hide to reach the meat underneath.

Emallya smiled fondly at the draclet. They were blended heart and soul until she couldn’t separate herself from the draclet. A deep sense of love and contentment settled over her. This was her dragon; the other half that made her whole. She looked ahead to the many hundreds of years she would likely live and could only smile.

“She’s beautiful.”

Emallya turned to see Bardeck standing next to her. “She is the most beautiful thing in the world.”

Bardeck nodded. “Every Hatchling feels that way about their draclet. What have you named her?”

“Rylin. I do not know why. It just came to me when I first looked at her.”

“The name always seems to come that way. Sometimes I wonder if the dragons already know their names and share it as they hatch.” He looked at her. “Would you like me to fetch your family so they can attend the introduction ceremony that will name you and your dragon to all of Galdrilene?”

“Not all of them will be able to come, but it would be nice to have those who can.”

He smiled. “I would be honored to bring them.”

Bardeck took her hand and started to raise it as if he meant to kiss the back of it. Instead, he froze as a thousand luminescent threads flowed out of each of them and reached for the other.

They watched the threads while they wove themselves tight and then faded. Bardeck stared at her with wide eyes. Emallya stood stunned. She could sense everything about him, but not in an uncomfortable way.

Jedrek chuckled from where he stood a few paces away. “It would seem the ever popular Bardeck has been claimed.”

“Claimed?” Emallya frowned.

Bardeck seemed to thaw. He blinked and looked at her as if seeing her for the first time. “What just happened…that was a bondmate bond forming. I’ve seen it happen before. Mernoth thought there was a possibility, but I didn’t believe it.”

“You?” She raised her eyebrows, surprise flashing through her. “You mean we…?”

“It isn’t anything you need worry about right now.” He smiled gently. “Not until Rylin is older. For now, all that matters is that you spend time with your draclet.”

He finished raising her hand and brushed his lips softly across it. “I will go fetch your family.”

Emallya watched him walk away before looking at Jedrek. “A bondmate? Already?” Her head spun. So much had happened all at once.

The older man shrugged. “It usually happens right after hatching if the compatible person and dragon are near.”

Emallya turned back to watch Rylin, overwhelmed by the events of the day.

“I like him.”

Emallya heard Rylin’s words as clear as day in her mind. With a smile she returned the sending. “I think I like him too.”

Even in the face of war with the recent loss of her brother, the future looked promising. Emallya gazed at Rylin and realized every dream she’d ever had for her future meant nothing now. She no longer cared if she ever had children. She had a bondmate and best of all, she had Rylin. That was more than enough for any woman to receive.

The light of a single candle flickered across Emallya’s features. Unconscious, she alternated between raging fevers and sweat soaked shivers. The Healing mages could do nothing, not for this. Bardeck sat and dipped a cloth in a basin of cool water. Gently, he wiped away the perspiration beading on her brow. For two days, since they found her broken body lying next to her dragon on the battlefield, he had watched her fight for survival.

The memory of Rylin, her beautiful silver scales blackened by Shadow fire and covered in blood, brought a lump to his throat. Rylin was dead. Bardeck watched tears leak from the corners of Emallya’s closed eyes. He longed to see those violet eyes open, yet it terrified him. He dreaded the shattered look he would see in them. He knew the tearing pain the loss of her dragon would cause.

By the Fates, he had seen enough riders go through Separation during the course of this war. Most didn’t survive the pain of being unbound, and the utter desolation, when their dragon was ripped from them. Even in Emallya’s unconscious state, pain pulsed in her. He felt it in himself, through her and through his own dragon, who grieved the loss of his mate.

He tensed as she stirred restlessly. He already pulled as much of the pain from her as he could. He felt Mernoth ready to block him from pulling enough to harm himself. As much as he wanted to spare Emallya, he understood. Separation was even harder on a dragon.

Would he lose her, as so many others had been lost? Bardeck knew only too well the pain of losing a bondmate. Ilyana, and her dragon, had been dead almost a year. He and Emallya still felt the ache of her loss. Now Rylin was dead and Emallya teetered on the threshold. His heart clenched. How much more could he and Mernoth take?

She bolted upright in the bed, her eyes wide and glazed. Leaping from his seat, he grasped her hand. She sucked in a ragged breath, her voice sounded harsh and otherworldly when the words began to flow from her mouth. “The last shall be fought and both sides will lose. Blood and fire will mark the ruins. A ray of light, a stain of shadow, will endure to breathe life and death into the future. The fire will perish, yet embers shall return to answer the call.” Her eyes were filled with the horror of her vision as she stared off into another time and place. Her breath left in a rush and she collapsed in a heap.

Pain was hers. It writhed through her body and flowed in her blood. Slowly, Emallya climbed out of the dark fog shrouding her mind. The liquid fire in her veins made her thoughts confused and hazy. She knew. Knew to the depths of her being that her dragon was dead. Her Rylin. Gone. Forever. How would she live without her?

The closer she got to the surface, the more intense the pain became. She wanted to retreat back into the darkness, but the life still pulsing in her veins wouldn’t let her. She shivered violently in reaction to the first wave of Separation and lay helpless as the pain convulsed her body.

Time passed, how much she didn’t know and didn’t care. Minutes, hours, days...the eternity it felt like? Her muscles still quivered in the aftermath. There would be more, she had seen it enough times and tried to help those who went through it. Now she knew why they eventually chose to give in to it and follow their dragons.

She opened her eyes. Darkness greeted her. Good, maybe I am dead. No, surely there is not this much pain in death. Where am I? Where is Bardeck? She started to reach for him and stopped at the sharp pain that stabbed at her head. Cool hands touched her forehead and face.

A dim light sprang to life, revealing the haggard face of a woman. Emallya struggled to remember her. Mari. The woman’s name was Mari and she was a mage from the Tower of Light. Why was a gold here? Why not a yellow or Bardeck? Slowly, her mind focused. She took in Mari’s disheveled hair, red rimmed eyes and the fresh tear streaks in the grime on her face.

Emallya pushed herself into a sitting position. “Mari,” her voice was nothing more than a whisper in her dry throat. “What happened to you? Where is Bardeck?”

Mari didn’t answer. Instead, she poured water into a cup and offered it to Emallya. She accepted it gratefully and took a long drink, the cool water sliding down her parched throat. When the cup was empty, Emallya looked at the other woman again. Beyond the dirt and mess of hair, Mari’s gold robes were torn and singed as if she had been in the path of a young Fire mage.

Emallya leaned forward. In the dim light, Mari’s eyes were haunted. “Mari, tell me what happened.”

Mari stared back without speaking. Emallya felt pain and confusion rolling off the other woman. She reached for Mari’s mind, intending to find out for herself what happened, but the magic weave shattered on a thousand shards of pain. She should have known better than to try and touch her power this close to Separation. Gritting her teeth she bore through it, her body and soul reminded of the loss by the touch of power. The second wave rolled over her.

When it was over, she climbed unsteadily to her feet. Wiping at the tears that ran unchecked, she looked down at herself, half expecting to see blood running in rivers. There was none. There wouldn’t be. The wounds Separation made ran much deeper than skin and muscle. Still shaking, she looked around her. She was in the Hatching Chamber. A small table stood against the wall under the dim glow of an orb. A book lay on the table. No, not a book. A journal. Bardeck’s journal. It was open to the pages in the back and covered in dust.

Mari spoke for the first time, her voice barely above a whisper, “He wanted you to find it. He wanted you to read it. I didn’t know…I didn’t know where to go. So I came here.”

“Why is he not here to tell me himself?” Emallya asked. Bardeck wasn’t there in her mind either and the pain stopped her from reaching for him. But why was he not there? Why did he leave this damaged mage here where he should have been? She tried to ignore the tendrils of fear growing in her stomach and tightening around her chest. She blew the light film of dust off the pages and squinted at the script in the dim light.

It detailed the plans for a major battle; told of a gathering of dragons and their riders, of the protections they had laid on a large clutch of eggs. It told how they placed her in the Hatching Chamber because it was one of the deepest in the hold, in the hopes she would survive as a guard against the future.

Turning, she peered into the semi-darkness. In the shadows in the middle of the chamber, covered in their own sheet of dust, lay a large clutch of eggs. Among them were the last her dragon had laid. Tears stung her eyes at the sight of them and she returned her attention to the pages of the journal.

Dread settled over her as her eyes moved over the writing. It told of a future, one both beautiful and terrible. It told of doom and possible salvation. A future she had foretold. The vision that spawned the forewarning exploded into her mind and swept her away. Someone was screaming. Was it her? The images rolled over her, one flowing into the next. Her mind tried to block the vision, but without her dragon as a buffer, she had no control over it. It overwhelmed her and pushed on, carrying her with it until its conclusion.

She was on the floor next to the table. She reached for Ilyana before remembering her bond-sister was dead. Desperately, she reached out for Bardeck, pushing past the pain, and found…nothing.

She scrambled to her feet with Mari’s help. She grabbed the woman’s arms in a tight grip and looked into her eyes. “Mari, where is Bardeck? Where are the other riders?”

Mari’s lower lip quivered, tears swam in her eyes and her voice wavered, “There is only…there is only you, Di’shan.”

Emallya’s heart pounded as she ran for the door of the Hatching Chamber. “Oh, no. Please, no!” Yanking the door open, she threw herself into the hall. Stumbling, she half ran through the Dragon Hold. Fear coiled in her stomach. Rubble and rock were strewn across corridors. The dead lay in twisted piles that she tripped over in the near darkness. Weeping from those still alive echoed down the halls.

Even in the Great Hall, the light was terribly dim. In one direction, the doors leading to the inner terrace were torn from their massive hinges. In the caldera beyond, the bodies of dead draclets lay strewn across the grass by the lake. She choked on a sob and turned the other way. The entrance from the city was almost completely buried in collapsed rock.

Her breath came in ragged gasps that tore at her throat as she scrambled up the sharp rocks of what had once been a mighty arch. Uncaring of the scrapes that made her hands and feet bleed, she pushed herself through the narrow hole at the top. Losing her hold, she fell down the far side. Her bruised and battered body came to rest on the broad terrace at the top of an enormous, sweeping stairway of stone.

Lying with her forehead pressed against the gritty stone of the terrace, she trembled. She didn’t want to look, didn’t want to see what she knew lay beyond. She fought for control of her emotions, her mind and her body. Everything in her screamed for release from the horror her world had become.

Slowly, she raised her head and looked out at a scene of utter devastation. The city of Galdrilene was no more. The six mage towers stood broken and burning. The ground itself was churned and blasted. Fires raged uncontrolled, feeding off the remains of what had once been a beautiful city. In desperation, she again reached for Bardeck and Mernoth with her mind and was greeted by a bleak void. The burning city echoed with her screams as fear and aching loss rode in with the next wave of Separation.

She wanted to die, wanted to follow her dragon. There was nothing left for her; except the eggs. Rylin’s eggs were there and they needed protection. Mari scrambled down the rubble of the doorway to her. There were other survivors, too. They needed her. And the future needed her. Galdrilene was in ashes, but her vision spoke of embers that would fan flames into the future. Embers. Future riders. Somehow, she had to be here for them.

ALSO BY A.D. TROSPER

The Dragon’s Call Series

Embers at Galdrilene

Book One

Tears of War

Book Two

Ashes and Spirits

Book Three

Available Summer 2014

Other Titles

Bound by Time

Available Spring 2014

The Legend of Christmas Magic

I have to thank my husband for his
consistent support as I pursue my dreams.

Thank you also to my readers:

I adore each and every one of you.

And as always, many thanks
to Blue Harvest Creative
for everything you do.

MEET THE DESIGN TEAM

Cover design, interior book design,
eBook design, and editing by

Blue Harvest Creative
www.blueharvestcreative.com

Born in Kansas, I spent a lot of my childhood moving around. I’ve lived in Kansas, Oklahoma, Washington State (around Seattle), and southern California. I had many great adventures growing up. Right now I reside in Kansas again with my husband of 19 years, my three children, assorted cats, and my wonderful dogs Roxie and Abby. One of these days I will escape the plains and make my way back to my beloved Pacific Northwest.

I’ve been an avid lover of fantasy since I was a young child. Dragons, elves, fairies, dwarves, and other denizens of the fantasy world as well as magic have always fascinated me. As I grew up, I developed an interest in vampires, zombies and my interests branched out to take in paranormal and urban fantasy.

I don’t have any special writing credits to my name other than a wildly active imagination and the ability to form that imagination into written stories. Beyond writing and reading, I also have a deep love of neat stairways, doors, doorways, and gates. I’m also convinced chocolate is a food group.

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Table of Contents

Book Description

Title Page

Copyright Information

Books by A.D. Trosper

A New Beginning

Preview: Embers at Galdrilene

Purchase Links

Acknowledgements

Meet the Designers

About A.D. Trosper

Visit the Author