Escape: Riders of Haven, #1

By Ashe E. Grace

Aervangarde holds many a tale filled with adventures of the Riders Guild, where men and women alike rise with their beasts to become greater than they are.  Before Magnar's reign, it was a land built upon the backs of Riders who sought to bring out the strength in others.  It was a land of greatness, of magic, where those seeking the light could rise from the ashes of their previous lives.  But those are just tales now.  Tales Aerrow no longer believes in.  His only constant is the small town of Whitcreke where he lives in servitude to a rancher and his family.  Even so, he still dreams to see the world outside his cage and explore all it has to offer.  To see Aervangarde once more in the light of the Riders.  Will an encounter with a strange wanderer push him to seek this light?  Can he overcome his fears to be the man he wishes to be? 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ashe E. Grace
• Release date: Oct 26, 2018
• ISBN: 9781772802047

Book preview

Prologue

"B efore our Father’s Father’s time,

When the world was dark and bleak,

When war raged on and all seemed lost,

The bravest rose to defend the weak.

They rode upon the beasts of old,

Never paused in fear,

Taking to the skies with beasts

Always keeping near.

Soul and mind connected

Their worlds forever shared,

Through hell they fought the demons,

No others could compare.

They did not turn their backs to us,

Their jaws forever strong,

For they rode upon the beasts of old,

And sought to right all wrongs.

And should you come to have a beast yourself,

Perhaps a Phoenix or a Gryph

Be not be afraid of your future, young one.

Keep your head high and jaw stiff.

Though all who ride are equally strong,

And all who train revered,

The ones to lead us all, with fiery beasts...

...they are the ones to fear.

Leathery wings that carve the sky,

With bellies full of fire,

These winged beasts you know by now,

Are the ones to most admire.

These bands of soldiers ‘cross the land,

Strong and just and skilled

Do not fear them and do not run...

...For they are the Riders Guild."

­    - Galihär of the North

Chapter One

O i, ya damn brat!  Get them bales on the wagon! Now!

I sighed quietly at the gravelly voice, an angry low growl escaping my throat for the man who was working me more ragged than I already was.  Yes sir.

I felt a slap upside my head as his brother barked at me to not use ‘that tone’, whatever that tone may have been.  I didn’t let it get to me.  They’d be gone soon.

Slade, my boss and ‘guardian’ for close to ten years now, and his brother Irv were readying their wagons to head down south and start on the trading.  It was the one time of year where I didn’t mind being barked at and abused because I knew I wouldn’t be seeing them for about a month and a half.  I would be left at the ranch with Slade’s daughter, Angela, and her two younger brothers, SJ – Slade junior, the poor kid – and Benny.  The three of them, unlike their father, were kind to me and I treasured the time I spent alone with them.

Benny and SJ were, once, much like their father – I assumed because he taught them I didn’t amount to much – but at some point Angela had gotten them to see the error of their ways.  I was told she said something about their mother and it immediately struck them.

Angela has a way with words... I won’t deny that.

For now, they were kind and considerate about my job and didn't yap at me to do the impossible.  They even tried to help me a few times but that only got me more bruises.  Slade assumed I asked them to do my job and didn't take kindly to the thought of me shirking.  I still had scars from the time he whipped me with the wire he kept lying around.  He had left me tied to a fence post with it overnight too.  Deprived of food and water it had been one of the most agonizing nights of my life.

Had Angela not released me and tended to my wounds the next morning I’m sure I would have died. 

Angela was much like her mother before her untimely death.  Sweet, kind, and wouldn’t hurt a fly even if it was her last source of nutrition in this entire world.  Bringing her spirits down was next to impossible.

I packed the last of the hay into the wagon and got ready to be shouted at once again for something I had done wrong.

As expected I received another cuff upside the head.  Should’a gone faster, brat!  Now we’re going to be late!

Leave him!  Slade called.  We gotta get on the road!  We’ll deal with him and his attitude when we get back!

Irv grumbled before running off to help get the horses harnessed and ready to leave.

I forced down another growl threatening to escape as I took a seat to catch my breath.  It stopped getting to my head a long time ago.  Slade was going to do what he wanted.  I just had to live with that.  It was hard to remember a time living on the ranch where I wasn’t hit.  I must have become numb to it over time.  Scratches and cuts that would have made anyone cry were nothing more than decoration for my skin.  The only time I ever flinched now was when I was unprepared for it.

On days like today, however... it was same old same old.

As expected, Angela was watching me from beside the well and once her father left me alone she quickly took to my side to inspect my bruises.

He use the strap again? 

I nodded, vainly attempting a grin to ease her worry.  Fresh one, barely any wear.  Only gave me a scratch, which looks rather like a horseshoe if you squint.

Her entire body sagged at this.  This isn’t funny, Aerrow!  Why don’t you stand up for yourself?!  Why don’t you just leave!?  This is cruel!

And go where exactly? I asked, knowing all too well where this conversation was going.  We’ve had this discussion before, Ang, if I speak up I lose the only thing I have in this world that I can’t get anywhere else.  Besides, it’s not always as bad as you think...

Oh shut it, you liar!  You know Aldar offered you a job at his forge!  You’d make a great blacksmith and he needs all the help he can get when winter comes!  You should take it!

And when your father sees me gone?  What do I do when he comes after me?  You know as well as I do that he’ll kill me for leaving his ranch after all he’s given me.  A bed, clothes...

You mean the cold floor in the barn and the rags that barely fit your malnourished body?

I hung my head, mustering up as much of a smile as I could through the pain.  And even if I did take the job, it’s not as though Aldar will take me in himself and give me somewhere to sleep.  I’ll be on the street and you know it.  Like I said, it’s best I just stay here and work through it.

Aerrow...

Look, I interrupted as I stood up, barely able to stop my scrawny legs from shaking, what I have here isn’t perfect, but it’s all I got.  You know that.  I began walking towards the barn, kicking up some dirt to make tiny patterns beneath my feet. 

I then paused to look up at her with a cheeky smile.  Hey, you think animals ever look at us and think our language is ‘animal’ noises?

You’re avoiding the subject again.  She called me out, making me chuckle.

I did that a lot with her to avoid discussion about my bruises.  I sometimes posed a riddle, made a lame attempt at a joke, or even made some kind of silly face to get her laughing again.  My attempts at humour seemed to be wearing thin.

I stuffed my hands in my pockets, grinning tiredly.  How many times are we gonna have this conversation, Ang?

Many more times if you don’t smarten up and get out of here.  She threatened.

Another chuckle escaped me.  I’m fine, Angie.  I’ve worked here for years, I’ve endured way worse than today.  Plus, your father will be down south for the month so I’ll get a break.  No need to worry.

Oi, Angela!  Get yourself away from that dirty rat!  Came an all too familiar voice.

Kurt strode up to the two of us and pushed me away from his bride to be.  I thought I told you to keep your grimy hands off my woman!

Get out of here, Kurt, this has nothing to do with you!  And you’re lucky that I’m marrying you at all after I caught you with that other woman!

The man raised his hand to smack her.  Don’t you mention that to yer father, bitch, or a slap will feel like a mosquito bite when I’m done with ya!

Angela flared her nostrils at him.  You touch me... and I promise I’ll kill you.

The man scoffed.  I ain’t afraid of you.  Yer as ‘bout as strong as chicken scratch over here.

I retreated from the situation.  Kurt would leave soon to kiss Slade’s tight pale arse before he left for the south and then he would go inside and continue drinking.  I would have loved to punch him square in the jaw for Angela and to show him that he’s not as strong as he believed, but I had to think about what might happen to me if I did.  Yes, I would stand up for those kindest to me but Slade wouldn’t kill me over that.  No, he would make me suffer.  And I would rather get shot in the face than live another night chained to the post in the barn like an animal again.  I didn’t want to suffer before my final moments.  I would rather just have it all snuffed out in an instant.

I sat down in the barn and inspected my bruises, the disgusting purples and yellows tainting my skin like burns.

I was used to this now, and the emotional abuse eased a long while ago when I no longer reacted to the things Slade liked to use against me, such as fire or knives.  Yes, I was still afraid of them but not like I was when I was seven.  Now that I’m slightly closer to seventeen – yet another birthday I wouldn’t be celebrating – I learned not to let my abusers see my reactions.  Now that I was reacting less and less, they laid off of me some and only hit me when they got angry or upset.  It was a small blessing, not like the ones I read about in my stories.

Though Slade didn’t approve, I read a lot while I was being held captive here.  My uncle taught me to read before the fire took his life, though only little bits here and there.  Angela and her mother helped me with the rest until I was able to go at it alone.  After learning to read I tried to obtain as many books as I could with the limited amount of coin I had.  Some stories I remembered from my childhood with my Aunt and Uncle, and some new and better than I could have imagined I read on my own.  Books and stories became my safe place... my sanctuary of sorts.  And with them I was able to live in a world unlike the one I currently resided in.  My favourite stories, the ones that my Uncle spoke and read to me the most, were about the Riders Guild.

The Riders Guild was formed during the Great Rejuvenation, when mythical creatures of all sorts banded together with humans to create an unstoppable force. The first ever Rider, Galihär, created the Guild hundreds of years before our current King took the throne.  It was said many an Old Rider were awestruck by the Galihar's connection and dedication to his Dragon, Samura. 

A fairly newer legend told around a fire, was that Haven had been formed during the first year of our tyrant King’s reign.  It was made to take down the Monarchy and instill a proper dominion that would lead us into the light.

When King Magnár began his rule he demanded the extinction of all mythical beings aside from dragons.  He believed dragons were a superior race and only the best of the best could ride one.  Any other riders were inferior and must be eliminated.  The Riders disbanded, and it was said Magnár had the last of the few Dragon Riders.

With all my heart I wanted to believe that Haven was real, and that an army of Riders was gearing up to take down the King and create a new era for us, but no one could confirm these claims and the legend ran cold.  No one who ventured out to find Haven ever returned.  And few dared to look for it after Magnár sent armies across the land to look for it himself.  As of yet, nothing had been found, or at least we haven't heard about it.

With taxes through the roof and food shortages throughout the land, even I was hoping that some miracle might come along and save us.

Or perhaps my diseased imagination was overworked from lack of food.

Either way... I had to believe that this wasn’t over.

Out of all the terrible things to come out of my life... I still had to have hope.

...

...in what... I was unsure.

---

It was the first time in months that I had any real sleep.  I was always up late at night doing chores for Slade or Irv, making sure chickens didn’t run off or the cattle were safely secured.  But with them gone for a while I had some time for sleep thanks to Angela, and I was thoroughly enjoying my slumber.

I woke at the sound of a barn door opening and I jolted up thinking Slade had come in to bark at me.

Sorry, came Angela’s quiet apologetic voice, I didn’t mean to wake you.

I heaved out a thankful breath and leaned back into my makeshift bed of old hay and rags.  Don’t be.  I should be getting to work before Kurt has something to say about it.

Don’t worry about him.  He’s too hungover to leave his bed today.

I hummed at this.  Still, I don’t want him to get a hold of any information that may cost me a beating or two.  The bruises Slade left yesterday are still sore.

Though there were few doled out that day, they did hurt immensely.  They were deep purple blotches that ached anytime I rolled over or even blinked and they wouldn’t heal so quickly.

I grumbled.  I’ll get started with the cattle once I’ve had a drink.

My father isn’t here, Aerrow, so you have my permission to eat as much as you like.  In fact, she said as she kneeled beside me, I’ve made my brothers’ and I a nice breakfast.  Might you join us?

I’m not allowed inside.  I reminded her.  And I’m not hungry.

Though it may have sounded like an excuse, I actually wasn’t too hungry and I would rather just get to work so I didn’t have to do anything later.  I learned over the years that food would always be offered after a job was done.  No, it may not have been the best food... but it was food.

I heard Angela sigh as she sat beside me.  My father has completely ruined you, hasn’t he?

Ruined?  I stated more than asked, No.  If he’d completely ruined me then I would be dead where I stand... erm... lay.  I joked half-heartedly.  But I’m not, which could only mean that I’m not as ruined as you think I am.  Scarred maybe - but not ruined.

I had a strong feeling she was rolling her eyes at me.  It had become a sixth sense, determining what mood she was in.  When she was upset I could almost feel her soul throbbing with anger and resentment.  She was fairly expressive when it came to her emotions, yet always seemed to carry herself well.  She walked with grace, kind and fair to the people around her, and more than anything she was a beautiful young lady who cherished each and every life around her.  When I first met her as a child I was sure she was a goddess from another, wholly unfamiliar territory.  I envied her pride and dignity... but she shouldn’t be wasting her time on people like Kurt who took her for granted.

A red mop of hair suddenly covered my legs as Angela lay her head on my lap.  Well... I guess that’s something.  Not being ruined.

I blinked at this before looking away from her.  I knew that being a wife and rancher was not what she had in mind.  The truth was she didn’t love Kurt or living on a farm.  She wanted adventure and excitement, to live far away where things would be more exciting for her.  The only reason she stayed was to protect her little brothers and help out her father.  What better way to help than to marry some rich farm boy from another town?  A man who beat her whenever she spoke out of turn and who would kill me if he caught even the slightest inkling that I liked her as more than a friend.

He didn’t have to worry about that.  Angela was a friend and nothing more.  I thought she was beautiful, and I loved her like she were my own family, a dearly loved sister. 

Nothing was better than having a good friend.

I mumbled a curse to myself before sitting up.  I should get to work, lest the chickens start learning to bark orders to feed them and the cows revolt because of my shirking of duties.

No, don’t bother.  Angela spoke softly, a slight giggle under her breath.  The boys already have the cattle out grazing and they’ll bring them back after feeding the chickens.  With the harvest over and the horses gone, you should just relax.  You’ve earned a day.

And just like that I’ve lost my job.

My father isn’t here, Aerrow.  She reminded.

No, but I know for a fact his spine just crawled with shivers after you said that.  ‘That boy ain’t doing his work... I can feel it.’

Angela actually snickered, By the gods can’t you at least get his voice right?!  You know he’d throw in a curse or two!

My apologies, what he WOULD have said is, ‘THAT DAMNABLE BRAT IS LAYING ABOUT ON HIS ARSE!  I CAN FEEL IT IN MY FOOT!

Angela actually doubled over laughing with tears rolling down her face.  She lost so much of her breath from laughing that I had to pat her on the back to calm her down.

Oh please, she begged, don’t be so loud next time.  As funny as that was I don’t want you getting hurt for making fun of my father.

I muttered to myself before laying back down on my floor-bed.  I wasn’t going to argue with her about my place on this ranch again.  Not when she was in charge while her sot of a fiancé was asleep.  At least I wouldn’t see him for most of the day... hopefully.

I gazed up at the ropes and riggings of the barn, Angela finally calming down and laying her head back on my lap, watching as the yellow sunlight cast heavenly beams of light through the windows and small cracks, reminding me of a legend my Uncle Cailan told me for bedtime stories.

’...and it was said that he rode on the back of a great dragon made from the light of heaven itself and he struck down the tyrant Errendore with his blade of glass.  The Riders had won and the world was at peace once again.  The Guild was founded once more and the dragon riders became the fiercest soldiers to ever live, taking down opponents so mighty it was believed that they could never fall...’

I raised my hand to the sunlight and grasped at nothing. 

...but they did. I whispered.  And now we have nothing.

They could still come back.  Angela mused.  We don’t know.

I scoffed, a grin plastered on my face.  It’s just a legend, Ang.  They never existed in the first place.

You used to believe in them.  She reminded me.  You used to sit here in the barn with nothing but a lantern and go on and on about how the Riders would return and send us all into an era of peace and tranquility.  The cold harsh world would become warm and kind once again and those seeking the light of the gods would find it just around the corner.  You were the one who had me believing in them... in the Riders and all that they stood for.  You were the one to make me believe that there was more to this world than meets the eye.  My brothers and I have hope because of those legends.  And if it can inspire one person, big or small, strong or weak, to venture forth and find the light, then they are so much more than just stories to tell around a fire.  They’re incentive to keep moving forward and keep on living.  Please try and remember that.

I took a slow breath before relaxing onto the floor.  Angela, you are kind, smart, and beautiful... but naïveté gets you nowhere in this world.  There are no Riders, there is no guild, and there are no dragons or pixies, or whatever else we read about as kids.  It’s time to grow up and face facts.

But the moment we do that, that’s the moment we give up on our dreams.  She spoke softly, uncaring of my blunt, though guarded, attitude.

I blinked at her words before closing my eyes and feeling my entire being well up with sadness.

I stopped having dreams a long while ago.

She was silent for the longest time, as if she didn’t know what to say to make things better.  And when she did speak, it was just above a whisper and harsh as ever.

More the fool is you.

A fool.  That was fitting.  I was a fool to believe my family would live forever, that the tiniest flame wouldn’t destroy my happiness and that the Riders would rise and save me from my fate here on the Ranch.  Yes, I was a fool... and I still am.  Because even though I knew they weren’t real, that they were merely stories and legends to tell kids and drunkards, I still believed in the Riders.  I still believed that they’d come riding in on their dragons, griffins, and whatever else they had and save me from my torment.  My own naïveté was battered but not broken, if that made any sense, and I still had some belief.

I still had a sliver hope. 

Even if I said differently to Angela, if only to save her from being disappointed in the long run by her own naïve thoughts, it was the one thing that this sadistic world couldn’t take from me.  It could take my family, my friends, my ability to see, to hear and smell, to think.  It could even take away my life, and drain out that last breath ever so slowly and make me suffer until it all just snuffs out and I’m forever lost to this world...

...but it cannot take my hope.

Something my Uncle always told me was that hope was the strongest and most powerful thing in a world where the strong own the weak, and the sick do not get better.  Because hope, though something you can’t physically see or hold in your hand, made the heart strong.  And if your heart was strong, you could overcome any obstacle.

Sad though... as hope is such a fragile thing.

Chapter Two

Whispers, whispers , and more whispers filled my head.  Scratching, clawing at my ears like little fingernails.  It was like having rats digging in my ears, wracking my thoughts with tormented scratches, each whisper muttering silent pleas and fearful whimpers.  I curled in on myself, begging for the voices to stop, but they continued.  Each whisper grew in intensity, a cold wash of fear filled my being.  More than anything I wanted to run away to avoid these voices, but each time I took a step away from them in the darkness of my mind, the more the whispers clawed at me and demanded attention.  I was losing my mind with what they were saying.

‘Help...! ...help me!  Lost... need help...!  Need help!  So cold... so... cold... pain... ...suffering...!  Please... please help me!  HELP ME!’

Over and over again the whispers increased and scratched at me, demanding I listen.  I tried, good gods help me I tried to stop them.  I begged, I pleaded, and I wished them away.  But they just wouldn’t stop!

Stop it... I felt my voice speak just above a whisper.

Still the voices continued, growing louder. 

Stop... my voice got louder.

The whispers increased to screams and I covered my ears.  I’d finally had it.

ENOUGH!  I screamed back, my voice hoarse but reverberating through the halls of my mind.

I shot up from my bed, gasping for breath, head pounding from a skull splitting headache.  It wasn’t even sunrise yet but I was grateful since I knew the light would only make my headache worse.  Although, this meant I had an early rise and could head into town to Aldar’s forge sooner rather than later.

I shook my head, trying to recall everything I had seen in my nightmare.  But it was a blank.  Only the whispers remained. It sounded as though they were in distress, like they were being hunted down for capture.  It was haunting to hear a foreign voice begging me to help them.  And then the shock of anger that made me scream out for the voices to stop... it hadn’t sounded like me.  I never spoke harshly, not like this.

What the hell was that...? I thought to myself.  "It was so... personal.  Not like a dream or a nightmare.  Like... like someone was actually talking to me..."

No, that was stupid.  It was a dream and nothing more.  I had bad ones like it in the past, especially after the fire... after what happened to my family.  Perhaps I was suffering from those same nightmares again.  It could be... or maybe I had finally cracked under the pressure of Slade’s fist. 

Still, dream or not, it was daunting.  A voice I didn't know calling out for help, echoing in my head to sound like more than one voice.  Maybe it had been myself but younger?  The voice was rather small like a child’s.  Perhaps I was just reliving dark memories.

I swept the thoughts from my head, I can’t think about this now.

I grabbed my satchel – an item I worked hard to pay for over the years and treasured dearly – and made for the barn door.  If Kurt caught me awake and idle, I knew there would be hell to pay and I was in no shape to deal with his ‘charming’ personality at the moment.  I just wanted to get into town and get back without running into him.

Slade I could handle.  He got his point across with a smack and stern word, something I was used to and knew how to avoid most of the time.  Kurt was something entirely different.

He was the kind of man who could make your hair stand on end and your feet turn to ice.  His voice was smooth, silky, almost angelic up until he had a few too many drinks.  He lulled you into a false sense of security, using everything he had to coax you into what he wanted you to do.  At our first meeting I thought he might show me some kindness...

...but that vanished in the blink of an eye.

He was introduced to everyone on the ranch, including me, having nothing more than kind words and softly spoken praises.  When he was alone, however, he was ruthless.  Spitting, kicking, grabbing so tightly that his nails dug into your skin painfully while his eyes bore holes into your soul.  The kind façade he put up was a ruse for Slade and Angela, saving his worst for me.  Where Slade believed he had reasons to beat and torture me, Kurt needed no excuse; he did it purely for his own pleasure.  He hadn’t cared that I cried for mercy just as long as he satisfied his sick perversion to hurt and maim.

I rubbed my shoulder from where he once threw hot coals on me.  I wanted to avoid Kurt at all costs.

Unfortunately for me, it seemed that Kurt was an early riser when he wasn’t drunk off his arse.

Oi!  The man called from the porch.  Where you off to, Trout?

I felt my anger crawl up my spine at his nickname for me.

He got the name after seeing my striking blue eyes the first time we met.  The Blue Trout was stunningly gorgeous, but a disgusting, nearly deadly dish around these parts.  They were crawling with disease and practically everyone who ate them were known to get violently ill or die.  Kurt thought it was funny that my eyes resembled the trout’s colour and it soon became his nickname for me. 

A moniker I disliked immensely.

I turned around to meet his sneer.  To the town, sir.  I was asked to pick up...

Don’t care.  He interrupted, sitting on the railing in confidence.  What I do care about is what you were doing with my woman yesterday.  I saw her enter the barn and she didn’t come back out for quite some time.  It makes me rather... suspicious of your activities. 

I took a calming breath before answering.  Nothing happened, sir.  She was just going over my duties for the week, as requested by her father.  I have no intentions for her.

Towards Angela or even her brothers I was loose yet calm, always trying to get a laugh out of them when things went dark or they worried over my injuries.  But around Kurt or Slade I made sure to remain proper and respectful.

I dared not be myself around them.

The man chuckled, Of course you don’t.  You aren’t that kind of man. He said as he slowly slid off the railing, hopping onto the ground.  Now are ya, Trout?

I understood the meaning, but I had to play innocent.  I’m not sure what you mean, sir.

He strode up to me, his height somewhat menacing.  Don’t be so coy, Trout.  We both know you’re a cock-biter.

I held back the instinct to clench my fist at his assumptions.  This kind of thing wasn’t looked highly upon by people like Kurt or Slade, more than enough people cold to the idea.  The Crown had made up laws about this sort of thing but that didn’t stop people from experimenting.  I didn’t really have an opinion on it myself, although I didn’t find the idea appealing.  People were free to do as they pleased as long as they kept it discreet. 

The larger man stood right in front of me, his eyes glaring and smirk deepening into a sneer as he grabbed hold of my face under my jaw, squeezing a bit too hard.  Don’t you look at me like that, Trout.  It’s not a sin to be assuming things, is it?  Especially when you walk about this place like nothing bothers you.  It makes the games less fun. 

‘Games’ he called it.  Yet he failed to mention that in these games only he was the winner.  Especially when I’m cornered in the barn and he’s too drunk to see how utterly I despise him.  Thankfully, it hadn’t yet gotten to a point where I had to fight him off.

Why not just tell the truth?  You’re going into town for a little... ‘Extra Income’ we’ll say.  I tell ya what, you get on your knees and service me right here, and I’ll pay you double.

I took a heavy, yet silent, breath out of annoyance before standing up a bit straighter.  I have to go into town to pick up supplies, sir.  That is no lie.  I’ll be back in a little while.

The man only scoffed, pushing me aside as he turned away.  Tease...

I growled to myself before heading down the road.  Even if it meant my life, I would never service that drunk.  I would sooner be eaten by dogs than have to spend even a second on my knees for him.  I had been significantly degraded and I wasn’t about to lose what little dignity I had left to that slimy slug of a man. 

Having escaped Kurt’s advances I slowed my pace.  I was becoming accustomed to encounters like that.  Slade once had a few friends who, in their drunken states, had mistaken me for a female or a whore child and had wanted me to service them.  Some offering large amounts of cash for my body.  Had Angela not threatened to take me and flee the farm for good I would have been forced to acquiesce to their demands.  I thanked whatever gods there were that I finally hit puberty and appeared far more masculine than when I was younger.  It helped the greasier of the drunks steer clear and helped to keep the worst of them off me, but there was always one or two people offering a few coins for my body.  More often than not they were women.

I always managed to decline and get out of the offer before it would lead to it never being my choice to begin with.

I wasn’t one for pride, and most of the time my eyes looked only to the ground in fear or deference but I have been told I am quite handsome in my own way.  Apparently, it was rare to find someone with my features, black hair and shining blue eyes, but I was unsure that those were handsome traits.  Unique maybe, considering most of the villagers had brown or light brown hair, but not handsome.  I honestly could not see the attraction.

I thought back to when I saw my reflection last and wondered what it was people saw in me. What good people, like Angela and her brothers, saw in a scrawny little trout like me.  I was ordinary... yet, it seemed, people were attracted to me.  Not all in a physical way, of course, but whenever I walked up the streets of the village I was always greeted with smiles and warm words, even with Slade watching over my every move.  I never really knew how to respond so I gave a half smile and continued on.  Most knew of my plight but they couldn’t do anything to help me.  Well... rather... I wouldn’t let them do anything so they wouldn’t have to deal with Slade and his unholy wrath. 

I hummed to myself, looking up from my feet to the road ahead of me.  It would take about an hour to get to town, so I used the time to take in the scenery.

The only time Slade ever let me off of his property was when he was with me to make sure I didn’t talk too much, or when he wasn’t around to know I had been off the ranch.  Anytime I got to see the world outside my prison, I absolutely loved what lay before me.

Äervängarde, my homeland, was a beautiful, breathtaking place despite myself only having seen the small village of Whitcreke and the long road that stretched out between us.  The trees were lush with green, tall and proud.  The wildlife was plentiful and majestic, with little creatures popping out of the leaves and rocks while the bigger creatures walked around unafraid of what lay before them.  I remembered seeing a stag as a child and being overwhelmed by such a magnificent and bold creature.  The antlers proud, tall, with his stance graceful.  It was absolutely beautiful, even if Slade had thought differently.

It didn’t matter what he thought anyhow.

I still enjoyed the majesty of the land, despite what little of it I had seen.  I wanted to explore it all and see what I had been missing.  I knew I would never get that chance.  Slade would kill me before I ever saw what lay behind the horizon.  No matter how much I dreamed to see the rest of what Äervängarde had to offer, no matter how many times I wished and prayed for the chance... it would never come.

It was a sad truth... but one I accepted.

Along my walk towards town, gazing at the majesty of the trees as I usually did, the light beaming through the branches as the sun crept ever higher, I heard a rustle in the forest and looked to see what was there.  Curiosity had been one of the many reasons Slade had beaten me into unconsciousness, having caught him cheating out a customer with less than favourable products... then letting said customer know about it.  He called me a ‘nosy brat’ then hit me with the leather strap until my skin was raw and I was begging for mercy. 

I learned then to keep my mouth shut.

Instead of an animal, however, I noticed a strange figure walking among the trees toward the town.  I couldn’t make out his face but the way he hunched over and kept his eyes forward I could tell he didn’t want to be seen.  He wore nothing but black and dark brown, except for a red scarf that hung around his neck in a tight knot.  It was the only thing I could make out above all the darkness of the woods and even darker clothes.

I didn’t call out to him.  I just kept moving forward.  I wasn’t sure if he was friend or foe and I didn't want to find out.  It was just best that I keep my head down and my thoughts to myself.

Then, as if some goddess of fate was watching over me, the man’s path converged with my own and he ended up walking just a few feet in front of me.  With this closer proximity, I could see that the man was slightly older than I and quite a bit taller than I first anticipated, not towering over me but I would have to look up in order to meet his eyes, and he had black hair like my own.  He was ahead of me so I couldn't see his eye colour, but I had caught a glimpse of his face which was hard and focussed... like stone.  The rest of his body seemed to match his face, carved and perfect as he glided across the path like it was air beneath his feet.  He had no marks or scars that I could see, and his eyes remained forward even after joining me on the path.  It was as though he didn’t know or care that I was there.

I decided to say something... anything, since we were headed in the same direction.  It would make the time pass quicker if there was someone to talk with.  He didn’t carry anything with him that would suggest he was moving into town, so maybe he was just a traveller.  Even then, however, he would’ve still been carrying something of worth to him.

No, he was something different. 

I took a breath and looked up at him.  Hullo,

No answer.  He didn’t even look at me.

I cleared my throat, knowing that sometimes my voice was quieter than others.  Especially when it came to introducing myself to strangers. 

Hullo?  I spoke up.

Still no answer, but his eyes did shift slightly at the sound of my voice.  I managed to catch a glimpse of brownish-red tinting them, but I still wasn’t sure.

Um... I faltered slightly, are you new here?

He kept walking, still not answering me.  It was almost as if he was going out of his way to ignore me.

I fell silent and just stopped walking altogether, blowing a strand of hair out of my face in frustration.  It was obvious he didn’t want to speak with me and I didn’t want to walk beside someone in an uncomfortable silence like that.  I would give him a few minutes to get ahead before I began to walk once more to avoid running into him once again.

I slowly counted to a hundred before looking up and taking a step forward...

...finding large, dark crimson eyes watching me from just a few feet away.

He had stopped... and had watched me count to one hundred... but for what reason?  I admit I was a little afraid of him at the moment, but something about having some stranger wait for me to catch up... was heartwarming.  He could have easily left me behind but he stayed.  For what reason, I was unsure. 

Despite the fear that ran through my veins, I began to walk again.  Keeping my head low and eyes off of my new companion.  As though I had commanded him, the man walked beside me the moment I caught up to him, still wordless. 

Like a shadow.

The silence was uncomfortable, seeing how the young man wanted to walk with me as well but gave no reason as to why.  He would’ve been a lot less intimidating if I knew what his intentions were.  Or even if I just knew his name.

We walked for about a half hour in silence, my mind racing with questions about who he was and why he wanted me to walk with him.  Was he a spy of the king?  Was he hired to follow me?  Was Slade behind his appearance to me?  What if he was just a traveller?  But then... why wasn’t he carrying anything?  Would he end up being my killer?  Was this my last day of living?

I started to hyperventilate a bit and this caught the man’s attention.

It had been many years since I last had a hellmare like this, with my breath short and my mind racing with questions in a panic.  The last time I had one it had been right as Slade found out about his sons helping me out.  In the brief, yet effective whipping of that wire I was terrified about what he would do to me next, and I almost passed out right in front of him.  Upon seeing the fear in me Slade tied my wrists together and dragged me to the post where I wouldn’t escape.

The words he spoke still haunted my dreams.

I own you! Don’t ever forget that, whelp!

A hand was placed on my back, making me jolt from my memory with an unimpressive chirp of surprise, giving a gentle pat.  As though the stranger knew how to bring me from my reverie.

Surprisingly, I calmed down and stopped hyperventilating, though my body continued to shake with fear.  Thank you... I said quietly.

Of course,

I jolted at the deep ragged voice.  So you do speak! I said.

When necessary.  He answered.  I suppose I should tell you that you have nothing to fear.  I have no weapons on me and no intent to harm you.

I grinned, feeling my heart begin to slow after realizing my fears were for naught. 

Alright then, so... um... where are you heading?

Silence.  Not one word from him.

I let go of the breath I was holding out of slight excitement, feeling my body sink in on itself.  Back to silence, I see.

No, he answered, if you wish to talk, then talk.  I simply don’t see the necessity in telling you where I’m going.

Oh....  I answered silently before thinking up something to talk about with him.  So then... what do you want to talk about?

Anything you like.  I happen to be quite the chatterbox when it comes to stories, if you can believe it.

I tiredly grinned at this.  Then, do you know about the Riders?

"I do, but the real question is... do you know about them?  About the Griffon Riders or say the Phoenix Trainers?"

I blinked.  Well... not really, no.  I’ve only heard tales about the Dragon Riders.  But Trainers?  That’s something unfamiliar.

As if that was his cue to begin, he straightened up slightly and spoke.

"Long before Magnár stole the throne of Äervängarde, before there even was a throne of Äervängarde, there was an order of Riders and Trainers who patrolled certain areas assigned to them.  As Äervängarde is divided by seven landmasses, so were the Riders.  The Griffon Riders patrolled the icy skies of the Elven Kingdom Elëndra while the Phoenix Trainers patrolled the Dwarven monarchy in the south mountains.  The Great Owl Trainers were stationed at eastern shores, the Serpent Riders patrolled all the water masses in Äervängarde and the Gryph Riders patrolled the skies in the east. Of course the proud Leviathan Riders of the Sandunes trained and patrolled near Suethun with their mighty sand serpents.  As for the Dragon Riders, they guarded all that was good in the world, the light, and vanquished all that was evil, the dark.  There were many other Riders as well, unclassified attributable to the timing of events, but when Magnár came into power, he decided that the only true Riders were those that rode upon the backs of dragons, and slaughtered anyone who defied his will.  In the end, all the Riders were disbanded, and the Monarchy was overcome by his tyranny.  It was said that the Riders would reform and retake our land one day.  The Serpents would poise to strike from the waters, as the Griffons, Great Owls, and Hippogryphs would swoop in from the air.  The Phoenixes would burn the old kingdom and regrow it anew and full of life once more with the earth and sand from the Leviathans.  The Dragon Riders would then be reborn, and our land would be at peace."

I blinked in astonishment at his story, feeling a quiver of excitement rush through me.  I knew there were other Riders besides the Dragon Riders, though not as many as this man had explained, but I never thought they’d be so magnificent.  It was amazing to think that there may have been more Riders than simply the ones atop dragons. 

That sounds incredible.  I wish it were all real.

He seemed to be a bit offended by this, but perked a little grin anyhow.  It is real.  It’s not just a story, but a legend.  And without it, without our legends, there can be no truths.

He stopped his walk to look me in the eye.  Don’t forget that, brother.  Promise me.

I blinked at the word ‘brother’ before I nodded to him.  Yes, sir.

And we continued on.

At my earnest request, my new companion told me more about the Riders. 

ALL the Riders.

Chapter Three

S o, do you know what might have happened to the dragons?  I know you said Magnár killed most of the Riders, but what about the ones that were on dragons and yet defied him?

My companion, who had still not given me his name, hummed at the question before taking a quick glance at me.  I can’t really tell you for sure.  I know that the dragons have all gone, but it doesn’t sound right for the King to destroy everything he wants to control.  Dragons are powerful creatures, you know, and even one would be worth a fortune.

Why’s that?  I asked, rather curious about the actual worth of something that, supposedly, died out a long while ago.

The man took a moment to stretch his neck to make a tiny, but audible, crack.  I’d rather not say.  Just know that the King would kill a thousand of his people to even obtain one dragonling.  One that hasn’t been... corrupted.

That last word struck fear into my soul.  He was implying that even the purest of beings, children, broods of all sorts, could be made to do another's will.  It was rather heartbreaking to think about but I wasn’t stupid enough to believe it couldn't happen.

I bit down on my lip.  The King practically owns everything.  All the gold and most of the silver is behind his walls.  What would he want with a dragon?

Gold and Silver is nothing compared to the raw supremacy of a dragon.  Even a little one would have more power than any coin the King could shell out.  Beasties like them are worth more than anything to that tyrant, not to mention they’re so uncommon nowadays that if one did show up you can bet he’d be the first to find out about it.  He has eyes and ears everywhere... we’re not safe.  Money means little anymore.

I bit down on my lip again, drawing little beads of blood.  I don’t know... have you met with any of his people?  Just having one silver piece would make you the richest man in town.  Well... in our town.  I don’t even think gold pieces exist anymore.

That’s because the King taxed everyone so badly in his earlier days that he took most of it for himself.  The selfish worm didn’t care about the hundreds of lives he ruined in the process.

It was true.  People had been struggling since the days of the King’s first decrees, which demanded they pay such overbearing taxes they had little to live on – the kingdom was approaching devastation.  He then let up on the taxes and instilled fear into the hearts of all who would listen, a warning something so terrible could come back to torment them again.  It wasn’t until a few years before I was born that he began sending out more guards and soldiers to keep an eye on everyone.  Up here in the north, however, things were a little less regimented.  I suppose it was because our village was too small and poor to be considered a threat.

The reasons didn’t matter... so long as he kept his men away from us.

So, the voice of my companion suddenly broke through my thoughts, what happened to you?

I blinked at him before lowering my head.  I-I don’t know what you’re talking about. 

I was terrible at lying, especially when it came to questions about my bruises. 

Listen, I’ve seen some battle scars, witnessed some fresh wounds in my time as well, yet none of them compare to that shiner on your eye and the hundreds more decorating your arms.  So, who’s been beating you?

I bit my lip nervously, drawing more of the metallic-tasting liquid, before answering with, I can’t tell.

Has he threatened you?  With ending your life, I mean.

I nodded, too nervous to speak. 

I heard the man growl before turning his head forward again.  Rotten bastard.  Don’t worry, he’ll get what’s coming to him.

I jolted at this.  No!  Please don’t get involved!

"I won’t be doing anything.  I don’t even know who it is that’s hurting you.  But I promise you that what goes around, comes around.  The more he harms you, the more his punishment will harm him.  The world has a funny way of getting even with