Dragon Fighters: The Beginning

By Rebecca Knopsnider

Brand has been warned never to enter Dragon Territory, but when his younger sister is taken, he has no choice but to enter the forbidden area and rescue her. Once there, Brand discovers that Dragon Territory isn't what he thought it would be, and neither are the dragons that live there.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Oct 24, 2011
• ISBN: 9781467041423

Rebecca Knopsnider

Rebecca Knopsnider was a middle school teacher for several years before completing her first novel. There is nothing more important to her than her relationship with God, the Creator of the world who sent His only son, Jesus Christ, to die on the cross so that all the world might be saved.

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© 2011 by Rebecca Knopsnider. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

First published by AuthorHouse 10/17/2011

ISBN: 978-1-4670-4143-0 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4670-4142-3 (ebk)

Printed in the United States of America

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Contents

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Sacrifice day is a day to rejoice

For the King just and fair

Has made his choice.

We honor the sacrifices for what they give

Freedom from the dragons

And peace in which to live.

—Excerpt from the royal histories of Argoula

Prologue

The smoke burned his eyes while the smell of sweat and fear filled his nose. The sounds were overwhelming, and he tried to sort them out in his mind. The shouts of joy made sense, but the cries of sorrow from those around him only added to his confusion. Sacrifice Day was supposed to be a day of rejoicing. It was the day that the dragons were appeased, a day to celebrate the peace that had lasted for centuries. The small eight-year old was still filled with confusion as he felt a small hand fill his. He looked down to see his four-year old little sister, her fear-filled eyes looking to him for comfort, but he had none to give. Their mother would come soon. She would end their confusion. She would explain everything.

The wind shifted, finally blowing the smoke out of his eyes. He was relieved that his eyes had stopped burning, but he still had a problem. The parade would be starting soon, and he couldn’t see past the crowd that surrounded them. He couldn’t even see the fires that were always burning on Sacrifice Day. Every now and then the crowd would shift, and he would catch a glimpse of the Guardians who were continually feeding the fires, making sure they didn’t go out. The Guardians in their shining metal armor and bronze facemasks were nothing to be afraid of… not for Brand. After all, his own father was one of the protectors. Right now, his father would be feeding the fires, keeping them burning.

This Sacrifice Day seemed so normal and yet so different at the same time. Their mother was always here with them on Sacrifice Day, and they could always see the parade. He pushed forward with Cynthia, trying to get closer, trying to see, but they were both blocked by the rather large man who was standing in front of them. Cynthia started crying, and Brand squeezed her hand, telling her silently that it would be okay. Everything would be okay. He just had to find his mother.

Finally, the man moved, and a way opened before them. Brand led Cynthia closer to the street where they could both see that the parade had already passed. Brand cheered like he always did, and one of the women in the parade turned around. Relief filled him as he recognized his mother. She must be surprising them by being in the parade this year. His relief vanished when he realized that everyone around him was still crying instead of cheering. Brand looked toward his mother for reassurance and noticed the spot of white in her hand. It was her handkerchief—the one that she always used when she cried, but that didn’t make sense… why was she crying?

Mom! Brand yelled as he ran out toward her. Everything would be okay if he could just reach her. He pulled Cynthia after him for a few steps, but when she fell, he dropped her hand, knowing she would only slow him down. Suddenly, a Guardian stepped in front of him, picking him up. Let me go! Mom, Mom! Brand screamed, tears coursing down his face as he watched his mother start to move toward him. She didn’t get far before a Guardian stepped out from beside the fires and stopped her. The handkerchief dropped from her hand as she fought the Guardian who was holding her, keeping her from her children.

Brand! Cynthia! She screamed as the Guardian pushed her forward down the street. The other Guardian picked Brand up and carried him toward the fires, away from his mother.

Stay put, the Guardian said gruffly as he returned to his duties. Brand obeyed, sitting beside the fire as the tears continued to run down his face. Cynthia slowly found her way to him, and Brand held her as they both cried. Soon the parade was over, the fires were out, and most of the people had left. A few of the Guardians were still around, but Brand ignored them. A white scrap of cloth fluttered in the breeze, catching his attention. Brand glanced at the Guardians who were left as he ran into the street and retrieved his mother’s handkerchief. When she came back, she would need it. He hurried back to his little sister, held her in his arms, and waited… waited for someone to come.

Brand opened his eyes and sat up, trying to steady his breathing. He quickly wiped away the tears that were running down his face. Sixteen year olds didn’t cry, especially over nightmares. Brand usually had bad dreams, but they didn’t usually bother him as much as this one had. He rubbed his eyes, trying to remember what he had been dreaming about. There had been fire, and someone was crying. Cynthia had been crying. Brand shook his head as he set his feet down on the cold, hard floor. It only took him a moment to light a candle and walk across the hall to his little sister’s room. Slowly, he opened the door, being careful not to make too much noise. He was relieved when he saw Cynthia sprawled across her bed, sleeping peacefully.

Quietly, Brand walked back across the hallway to his own room and lay back down. He blew out the candle and lay there for a few minutes in the darkness. Part of him wanted to remember his nightmare, to know what it was that he couldn’t remember, but another part of him didn’t want to close his eyes. He didn’t want the nightmare to return. His eyes finally closed, only to open again a moment later. As soon as he closed his eyes, he saw a white handkerchief fluttering in the breeze. Brand sat back up and re-lit the candle that was on his dresser. It only took a moment for him to retrieve the white handkerchief from the drawer where he kept it at night. It was the only thing he had that had belonged to his mother. At least, he thought it was hers. His father never talked about their mother, and Brand didn’t remember her, but when he held the white handkerchief, he almost felt as though she were right there beside him. His dream had to have been about his mother if it had the handkerchief in, didn’t it? Closing his eyes again, he tried to make the nightmare return, but even the few parts he had managed to remember had faded until there was nothing left. Nothing but fear. Slowly Brand drifted back into a restless sleep, his dreams full of images that he wouldn’t remember in the morning.

Chapter 1

The autumn sun shone overhead while a slight breeze blew. Some brightly colored leaves fell slowly to the ground. Everything was peaceful, calm. The chirping of birds and chattering of squirrels were nowhere to be heard, but then again, those sounds were rarely heard in any forest that was this close to Dragon Territory. Other than the absent sounds, the forest was perfectly ordinary, and a little on the small side. On one side of the forest, there was a log cabin with smoke rising out of a stone chimney as a sign that there was life nearby, somewhere. The other end of the forest was cut off quite abruptly with a charred black line where trees used to be. If someone stood on the black line at the edge of the forest and looked out, they would be looking straight into Dragon Territory. Of course, very few people were foolish enough to actually do that.

Brand made his way slowly through the trees in the forest, methodically searching the area. The wind blew through his dark blond, almost brown hair as he stopped moving, scanning the trees around him, listening for any unusual sounds. Come out, come out wherever you are, he whispered softly, and yet, in the silence, it almost seemed as if he had shouted. Quickly, he turned his head toward the sound of rustling leaves. Even though the wind was blowing, it wasn’t blowing quite hard enough to make the leaves rustle like that. No, that rustling sound had to be caused by something else. He took a couple of steps closer to the sound, searching for what could be making it.

His light blue eyes peered through the surrounding foliage, and even though he didn’t see anything, he smiled. I’ve got you now, he said as he made his way closer to the giant oak tree where the rustling sound seemed to be coming from. He heard a giggle and smiled wider as he saw a flash of white dart from behind a tree. Brand took off in pursuit, easily avoiding the branches around him, but he seemed to get no closer to his quarry. You can’t run forever, Brand called out, but his little sister only giggled louder and increased her speed.

What do you think you’re doing? A loud voice stopped both runners in their tracks. They turned and faced the source of the voice. Don’t you see where you are? Both of you get into the house. Now! Brand looked at his father, confused. It took him a few seconds to notice the black line where the forest ended, and he realized the source of his father’s anger.

Dad, come on, we’re at least ten feet from the edge of Dragon Territory. Brand saw the furious look on his father’s face and decided that now was not the time to have the same old argument.

Come on, Cynthia, let’s go inside and play something else. Brand held out his hand and waited for his younger sister to take it before turning and walking toward the cabin at the edge of the woods. He noticed that Cynthia’s hand was trembling, but he knew that nothing he could say would help the situation. She had always been afraid of their father’s anger. Brand didn’t quite understand why his father was so angry either, but it didn’t scare him; it made him mad. He glanced down at his little sister and smiled faintly when he saw the mud covering the bottom half of her white dress. He reached down and gently pulled a small twig out of her long, black hair. She looked up and smiled at him. Brand smiled back just to let her know that everything was okay.

The black hair and violet eyes on Cynthia’s pale face were unique. At least Brand thought they were. It was not a combination that he had seen in anyone else. Not that he saw many people, not with his father’s paranoia toward town. Brand stared at his little sister, thinking that it wasn’t just her looks that made her unique. At almost ten years of age, she could easily outrun her sixteen-year-old brother, especially when she was in the woods, which seemed to be where she felt the most comfortable. Cynthia didn’t have any playmates except Brand. This was one reason why they were so close. Brand stared at his little sister, who suddenly seemed so small and frail. His father didn’t need to worry about Dragon Territory, because Brand would never let anything happen to her. Never.

He heard the footsteps behind him and turned, glancing at his father. His father was a big man, and Brand knew that he was disappointed that his son was so small, but Brand was glad he was not built like his father. He wanted to be different. Cynthia squeezed his hand harder, and Brand knew that she had heard the footsteps too, but Brand knew what Cynthia didn’t. He knew the discussion that would come after Cynthia had gone to bed. They had the same discussion all too often, but never in Cynthia’s presence. Maybe that was because the discussion was always about her. I know what we can do, Brand said, trying to make Cynthia feel better. Why don’t we make your favorite pie for dessert?

I don’t think we have enough berries. Cynthia bit her lower lip, answering so softly that Brand almost had to bend down to hear her.

I know where there are muldoon bushes with berries just ripe for the picking. We can get enough to make a pie before it gets too late. Brand knew that the small, red berries were Cynthia’s favorite food, but she still hesitated and glanced behind her, shrugging her shoulders. Don’t you think that’s a good idea, Dad? Brand knew that Cynthia wouldn’t agree unless she knew that it wouldn’t make their father even angrier. Brand heard a grunt from behind him, which he took to mean approval. It wouldn’t take too long to make. It should be cool just in time for supper. What do you say? Cynthia nervously glanced back at her father and then up at Brand.

Okay, she said as she gave her older brother a weak smile.

Brand smiled back. I’ll race you to the front door. They took off running even though the front door was only a few feet away. Cynthia won easily.

Why don’t you run in and get the buckets? Brand watched from the door as Cynthia disappeared into the cabin.

Just where are these bushes? Brand’s father asked, still frowning, as he came closer to the front door.

Don’t worry, Dad, they’re nowhere near the border of Dragon Territory. They’re just a little way up the road. Brand watched as his father frowned and nodded. There was silence as Brand and his father stood outside the little cabin, neither one saying anything. Brand was relieved when Cynthia came back with the buckets, and they could leave the stifling atmosphere. He glanced back as they walked down the road and saw his father standing in the doorway of the cabin, just watching them. Neither Brand nor Cynthia truly relaxed until they turned the corner and were out of sight of the house. It didn’t take them long to reach the bushes and start picking the little red berries.

I don’t understand why Dad gets so angry. Cynthia frowned up at Brand as she popped a muldoon berry into her mouth.

Be careful, or we really won’t have enough for a pie, he cautioned her as he watched her eat another one. He’s just worried about us, Brand said, knowing it was true, but he didn’t really understand why his father was always so angry either. Maybe if his father would talk to them, they would understand more, but he never did. He never even talked about their mother, and they had both stopped asking a long time ago. Brand wished he knew what had happened to her. At the very least he wished he could remember what she looked like.

He only acts like that because he’s afraid you’ll get hurt, Brand finally said. Cynthia was shaking her head before he even finished his statement.

I don’t think that’s the reason. I don’t think he cares what happens to me. I mean, he barely even looks at me, and when he talks to me, he just yells. Brand watched her eat another berry, but he didn’t respond. He wished that he could make her see how much their father loved her. Brand could see it. He saw it in the way his father glanced at her out of the corner of his eyes, just every now and then, almost as if he was afraid she was a leaf about to be blown away. He had told her before that their father loved her, but nothing he said would change her mind.

I wish I could remember Mom, Cynthia said wistfully, and Brand nodded, wishing he could remember too. Do you remember anything? Cynthia turned to her brother. She had asked him that question often, but he usually just shook his head.

I think she had dark hair, Brand said softly, not even sure if it was true or not. Sometimes when he closed his eyes, Brand thought he could almost see her, but he realized it was probably just his imagination. He stood still and closed his eyes, trying to remember her. There was a wisp of a memory, dark hair blowing in the wind, but Brand wasn’t sure if it was really a memory or just another dream. His fists clenched in frustration, and he almost hurled his bucket into the bushes. He should be able to remember his mother, so why couldn’t he? It wasn’t just his mother that he couldn’t remember. Brand didn’t remember anything from before he was eight years old. It just didn’t make sense. He shook his head in frustration and opened his eyes, noticing for the first time how late it was getting.

We should be heading back if we want to make this pie before supper, he said as he turned to the place where Cynthia had been picking berries, but she was gone. Cynthia? Brand called, but there was no answer, and he started to panic. Cynthia! He shouted as loud as he could and started pushing through the bushes, searching for her. Where had she gone? Cynthia! Brand called out once more as he plunged into the bushes where he had last seen her, ignoring the thorns.

Brand was trying not to panic, when he heard the giggle. You should have seen the look on your face! Brand looked down, and there was Cynthia at the bottom of one of the bushes.

Don’t ever do that again! Brand didn’t even try to keep the anger out of his voice. Cynthia’s face went blank… the same blank expression she always had when their father yelled at her. Brand took a breath, calming down, before speaking again, this time in a normal voice. You scared me to death. Please promise me right now that you won’t ever do anything like that ever again. Brand knelt down in front of her, looking straight into her violet eyes. Cynthia stared at Brand’s scratched arms and pale face, which was slowly returning to normal as she promised.

I didn’t mean to scare you. I won’t do that again. I promise, Cynthia said.

Let’s go home and make this pie, okay? Brand had had enough excitement for one day, and he was ready to head home, even knowing that his father was there.

Last one home is dragon fodder! Cynthia smiled and took off running, but Brand didn’t follow her. Instead, he went off the path through the woods, taking a shortcut. He was there at least a minute before she got to the door.

What took you so long? Brand smiled at Cynthia’s flabbergasted expression. He hadn’t beaten her in a race since she was five years old.

You cheated, she accused, smacking him on the shoulder.

Did not. Brand retorted as they went into the house, but the playful argument stopped immediately when they entered and saw their father, sitting in his chair by the fireplace in the living room. He glanced up when they entered, still frowning. Brand tried to keep the smile on his face, but it was forced. His father didn’t seem to notice, or to care. He turned back toward the fire as Cynthia and Brand walked past him and into the kitchen, but even though their father wasn’t in the room with them, they could still feel his presence. Working in silence, they made the muldoon pie and then started on supper. Brand felt more comfortable in the kitchen than most boys his age would. When Cynthia was younger, he had been the one who took care of the cooking. He had a faint memory of his father showing him how to fry an egg, but mainly it was Mrs. Branish, one of their few neighbors, who had shown him how to cook. When Cynthia was old enough to learn, Brand had taught her, as well. Now they shared the cooking as well as most of the other household chores.

The kitchen was roomy, with a wood stove in the corner for cooking and a large table in the middle of the room with four chairs around it. Most of the utensils, plates, and cooking supplies were kept in the two large cabinets that stood beside the outer wall. The cabin wasn’t big, but there was more than enough room for the three of them. It was quiet and peaceful, especially when their father wasn’t there. The kitchen and the living room were the only rooms on the bottom floor. The top floor consisted of three bedrooms, all about the same size. Of course, the outhouse was in the back, far enough away from the little cabin that it didn’t smell, but close enough for them to find it in the middle of the night. Brand glanced over at his sister, who was leaning over the wood fire, adding a few more pieces of wood. She seemed more somber than usual.

So what do you want for your birthday next week? Brand tried to end the silence, but Cynthia just shrugged as she stood back up and opened the cabinet that held the wooden dishes. He stopped trying, aware that his sister didn’t want to talk right now. The silence continued as Brand helped Cynthia set the table, but it didn’t become uncomfortable until their father came in and sat down, ready for supper. He was frowning, and they both knew that he was still simmering under the surface, not that there was anything they could do or say that would calm him down. Their father was always angry with them. Brand didn’t even attempt conversation as he finished placing the food on the table and sat down. There was no point in talking when their father was brooding, and Cynthia was too scared to talk. The three of them pushed the food around on their plates for a while before Brand silently cut the pie and served it for desert. It was almost a relief when his father finally spoke.

It’s time for bed. He said to Cynthia without even looking at her.

Goodnight. She got up from the dinner table without argument even though it was a good hour before her normal bedtime.

Brand sat there and waited for his father to start. He already knew what he would say, and Brand was ready with an answer.

What were you thinking? How could you be so careless with your younger sister? How many times have I told you that Dragon Territory is dangerous, and I don’t want you anywhere near it?

I wasn’t being careless. We were in the woods, still ten feet from Dragon Territory, Brand answered, his own anger rising. I know you’re upset, but there’s no reason to be angry. I was with Cynthia, and neither of us was in any danger. We were just playing.

I need you to be responsible. You can’t be playing childish games that close to Dragon Territory. I need you to watch out for your little sister, not lead her into danger. Grow up! his father’s voice had risen until he was almost shouting.

Don’t you tell me how to watch out for my little sister! Brand yelled back. I’m the one who has always watched out for her. Do you even remember that it’s her birthday next week? When was the last time you talked to her without yelling? I’ve always been the one who has watched out for Cynthia. You’re the one who needs to grow up. His father pulled back his hand as if to hit Brand, but he didn’t. Instead they both glared at each other, neither one backing down. A small scraping sound caused them to turn their heads. Cynthia was standing on the stairs, watching them, her face white with fear. When they turned, she immediately ran back to her room, slamming the door behind her. They both watched with different expressions. Brand’s face was filled with sorrow. When he glanced at his father, his face was stoic, expressionless. Silently, Brand turned to go up the stairs to talk to Cynthia, but his father stopped him.

Brand, I’m not done. Brand turned around to face him, but his father didn’t look at him. Instead he looked down at the floor. I’m leaving tonight.

What? Brand’s forehead wrinkled in confusion. What do you mean, you’re leaving?

I have to. I have no choice. I’ll probably be gone for a couple of weeks. He looked up at his son and walked over to him, putting his hand on Brand’s shoulder. I need you to look after your sister while I’m gone, he said, glancing up toward Cynthia’s room. I really need you to be responsible and make sure nothing happens to her. Stay away from Dragon Territory, and take care of things for me. Brand watched in shock as his father grabbed the knapsack that was ready to go in the corner of the room. Brand hadn’t even noticed it earlier. He felt as if his father had just punched him. Brand couldn’t even move until he saw his father taking the sword from where it was hanging against the wall.

What do you mean you have no choice? Where are you going? Brand took a step forward as if to stop his father from leaving, but he knew that there was nothing he could do. His father had left before, but never without notice like this.

There’s an extra sword in my room. You know where it is. You should have plenty to eat for a couple of weeks, and I’ll be back soon. There are things that are happening that you don’t know about, things that I don’t want you to know about. I know you don’t realize it, but I’m doing this for you and Cynthia. Don’t worry, I’ll be back as soon as I can. Brand’s father turned to go, but Brand stopped him with his question.

Are you even going to say goodbye to Cynthia? Brand’s father looked up toward her room as he shook his head.

Tell her to be careful, and tell her that I love her. Make sure you watch out for her, he said, and just like that he was gone. Brand went over to the window and watched him walk down the path in the dimming light until he couldn’t see him anymore. He tried to think of how he would tell Cynthia as he turned and started walking slowly up the stairs toward her room.

Cynthia? Brand knocked lightly on the door before he opened it.

Come in. Cynthia was sitting on the edge of her bed with her legs pulled up and her hands wrapped around them. Brand opened the door, walked over to where she was sitting, and sat down beside her.

Why does Dad yell so much? Cynthia leaned against her brother, and he put his arms around her.

I don’t know, Cynthia. I just don’t know. Brand looked at her, not knowing exactly how to tell her the news. It shouldn’t make that much difference. Even when their father was at home, he