Prompt: In this 'training round' your DragonInk adventure begins with the hatching of your dragon. Write about how your character became a Rider, include the packing of your belongings if you do not already live in Ellesméra. Good Luck!

Characters: No other characters from the competition were included in this entry.

Score: There was no score given for this entry.

My Entry:

 The sun was beautiful. As it peaked its elegant forehead above the horizon pigments of crimson, gold, and a graceful yellow were strewn across the forest floor. The colors had an emerald hue to their pigment as the leaves of the trees fought to eject the light from the forest.

I sat on the bole of one of these trees, bow inactive on my lap. The fresh light of the day always seemed to cheer me up, make me feel new again, not sad.

Winter in my village, Kirtan, had been swept away only a few weeks before, but the frigid weather still lingered in my bones and in the earth. Winter had always taken its toll on me emotionally, this year was no exception. I suffered from seasonal depression, usually in the winter and occasionally during the other seasons. Winter, with its icy weather and shady skies, seemed to dampen my mood, my spirits, and anything good in my life. But that had changed, at least for the time being.

I was out in the forest with my bow for no specific reason other than to relish the sunrise and perhaps, if the chance came, do some target practice.

Elves, counting myself, were commonly vegetarian, so we would never slay any kind of animal unless it was suffering or we were desperate for nourishment.

 I leisurely pushed myself up, slithering up the length of the tree trunk. I had been in the forest for hours before the sun had risen; I had just relaxed and appreciated myself, something that I never often accomplished. I had observed the sun rise; my early morning expedition was coming to a close.

I strung my bow and put my head through it and rested it on my left shoulder, string across my chest and hefted my quiver onto my right shoulder.

I ran for a short distance, halting in a glade near the edge of the tree line. There, was my stallion, River, bound to a heavy tree branch, patiently waiting for me. I strode over to the gray dapple stallion and he burrowed his thick muzzle in my chest. I stroked his forelock before placing a kiss in between his eyes. I had always possessed an adoration for horses, especially my stallion.

River was a four year old stallion from the village of Bullridge. This horse had escaped from his owners in Bullridge and somehow wound up drifting up and down Du Weldenvarden’s southern border to the Hadarac Desert. My father, who worked as a stationary at the time by the southern border, had found the stallion. River had been near death for he was fatigued, ravenous, and thirsty. Out of the kindness of his heart, my father brought the stallion back to our village and probed me about taking him on as a project. Of course I agreed and took him as my responsibility.

I had named him River because of his gray dapple pattern and I nursed him back to health. After a few months of magical and natural therapy, he was healthy again. After he had been healthy for some time, myself being a magic user, I cautiously began approaching his mind. It took weeks before he finally recognized my presence and I could search his memories from where he had come from.

I found he had been a battle charger for a guard at Bullridge and he had fled after an encounter with some nomads following his rider’s death. He was unlike the traditional elven horses, he wasn’t a creature of magic, but he was very intelligent. I quickly discovered I had forged a bond with the stallion and we had been close partners ever since.

I untied River’s reigns from around the tree branch and pitched one over on either side of his neck. I rode River bareback, but not completely tack-less so I mounted him using the trunk of an adjacent tree. I urged him forward as he departed the forest and emerged onto a hill only six hundred yards away from Kirtan. I kicked him into a hasty gallop; River put his ears flat on his neck as he bolted forward. I pressed with my knees and my thighs to grip his sides as the friction between us began to decrease. My sorrel hair began to slash my face as the wind tore at my ponytail.

~                         ~                          ~

We soon arrived back at our dwelling, or a tree house as the humans generally preferred to call it. There was a dirt path that led astray from the main strip around to the back of my dwelling where there was a small hut and pasture for River. I quickly turned him lose and suspended his bridle in a compartment in the hut.

I observed him for a few moments and found myself smiling as River bounded across the length of his pasture and pawed at the ground. I sighed and left him to himself before making my way to the front of my dwelling.

The front door had an oval contour and the wood was a dark ebony color. The door had my name sliced on its exterior, transcribed in the script of the Ancient Language, Roslyn Prancer. I had not written the name on my door, it had been my younger sister, Lyn. I was one-hundred and thirty, and my sister was only ninety-four. Because of magic, I had sternly chosen to appear as my seventeenth year self and Lyn had chosen her fifteenth year self. Because Lyn was very immature for her age, she had thought it appropriate to come up with the last title Prancer because of my love for horses. Lyn had carved the names in the wood many years before and it had never crossed my mind that I could buy a new door or decorate over the abrasions.

I seized the obsidian iron handle and pushed the door inwards. I lived by myself those days, but often received visits from my sister and less often from my parents. The front door directed into the kitchen which was dim from the extinguished candles that I had placed around the room.

“Brisingr,” I mumbled under my breath. The room was instantly illuminated as the candles burst to life. I grinned, even though I had practiced magic for decades, it still excited me that the elements obeyed my will.

My grins were cut short as I regarded my parents sitting inaudibly at my kitchen table. My father, Lynran, was sitting to my right perusing the pages of a hefty, leather bound book. He had long, frost-white hair that he had a tendency to to wear in a sloppily tense braid. My mother, Ryla, sat to my left with her hands on her lap and the same motherly grin she always wore was slapped across her complexion.

My mother had the same ginger hair and tall, lean physique that I possessed. My sister Lyn took after our father.

“Father, you mustn’t read in the dark, your eyesight is waning as it is. Doesn’t mother tell you that?”

 “I try dear, he refuses to listen,” retorted my mother.

“I’m an elf correct? I should be able to read in the dark for eternity if I avoid illness and fatal wounds. I’m not going to waste my gifts.” I shook my head at his arrogance. I was starting to adapt to these surprise visitations from my parents.

“What brings you here today? Best be blunt about it.” My father continued skimming his book. It was my mother who wished to speak this time.

“Your father and I wanted to inform you that the egg bearers will be arriving in a few short hours. We knew you wouldn’t be here this morning, we know how you like to spend time with River, and so we’ve already visited your sister. We want the two of you to try again for eggs this year.” I shook my head. Ever since I had been young I had always wanted to become a Dragon Rider. My sister and I had tried for an egg the year before and it had ended in disappointment. I wasn’t willing to experience that again.

“I won’t try again mother. Not after last year. We saw how bad my depression was this winter again because of it, I won’t do it again.”

“You will if you want to keep River,” chimed my father. I stood in disbelief that he even thought that marketing River was a possibility. I swallowed hard, a hard knob forming in my throat; my father wasn’t bluffing.

“Fine. But this is the last time.”

“Agreed,” my parents said in unison. “Best be going. Your sister will meet you at the entrance to the Nest.” I nodded, there was no use quarreling with my parents.

The Nest was an area in our village that the trees had been knotted together in preparation for the egg bearers in years to come.

 I made my way out the door before closing it behind me, only moving forward as I heard the satisfactory click of the lock. I exited the dirt path that led to my dwelling and onto the main cobblestone strip. The road wound through the tall trees of Du Weldenvarden that stretched on for miles and never seemed to cease. The road also, if followed with no detours, led straight to the heart of the village. Another cobblestone path led away from the main strip just before it entered the epicenter of the village.

The air around me was becoming thick, moist, and condensed as it promised a humid yet sunny day. Surprisingly, I was the sole occupant of the street as I strode away from my dwelling to approach the Nest.

When I arrived at the cobblestone path that led to the nest, I discovered my dear younger sister Lyn sitting crossed-legged on the boulder that had ‘The Nest’ scored upon it in the calligraphy of the Ancient Language. An issue well known, but seldom spoken of about my sister and I was that we were polar opposites in appearance and behavior.

Lyn was sitting on the boulder with her left leg bouncing up and down and the nails of both hands drumming by her waist.

Our differences resided mostly with maturity. Lyn was very immature as I feared she always would be. Her build was as feminine as it got with the elves; she had a thin waist, lean but not husky limbs, long legs and anything but flat, chest. Her hair was white like my father’s and it molded her face in such a way it made her body seem all the thinner. She had a beautiful face was sharp eyes and features.

On that precise day her hair was worn in a half ponytail with half of its thickness pulled back and the rest was left to drape over her shoulders. She wore a securely formfitting leather jerkin with an emerald green tunic under it. She also wore brown legging and tall wool boots.

As soon as she saw me she bounced off of the boulder, landing elegantly on her feet. She strode over to where I stood as she ran her fingers through the hair that had not been pulled back.

“My darling sister!” she said, holding out her arms. It was no secret that I coveted the genes Lyn had received and it was partly to blame for my depression. I unjustly had begun to hold this against my sister and our relationship had begun to wither. Lyn ruthlessly tried to restore it, and has never stopped.

“Hello Lyn,” I smiled and crossed my arms. “Have the bearers arrived?” She shook her head, “Not quite yet, but the ones who wish to try to hatch an egg have all but began to line up for them.” I nodded, “Well we might as well head on up the trail.” I gestured for Lyn to start walking and she did. I followed behind her in complete silence; I kicked a small cobblestone pebble across the path in front me as I walked.

“Do you think we’ll luck out this year?” Lyn asked.

“Doubt it. You probably will though. You always do.” I saw Lyn swallow hard; she began cracking her knuckles, something she did under stress.

“Do you want to talk about something, Roslyn? I’m here for you if you need anything.”

“Piss on me.” I pushed ahead of Lyn, not taking into account her emotional state.

I soon arrived at the entrance to the nest. It was in the form of a large dome constructed from the trunks of trees. The trunks had purple and obsidian flowers budding from their boles as they wound together in a coiled pattern. There was a small opening at the top of the dome where sunlight engulfed the area. An elongated snaking line was convoluted around the perimeter, full of the Rider-hopefuls. Another entrance on the opposite side of the pavilion had been interlaced for the usage of the bearers.

I rushed to find a spot in the line, ultimately immobilizing in between a younger eleven girl known as Sæya and her older brother, Rhoen. I greeted them heartily before leveling myself with the trees behind me.

Moments later, Lyn sauntered into the pavilion without expression; some of her friends on the opposite wall called to her and she soon linked with them. She perused the perimeter of the area with her eyes, and she quickly found me. I grimaced under her stare and chose to ignore her by engaging in conversation with Rhoen.

“How’s Lyn? She’s always chirpy, but she’s not at the moment. Is something wrong?”

 Oh sure, you ask about her.

“We’ve been having our differences.” Rhoen said nothing, but rumbled his understanding.

The edgy silence was traumatized as the thundering of trumpets occupied the air. Everyone’s heads rotated abruptly and in unison to the contrasting entrance. Two lustrous white stallions with their noses almost touching their necks trotted in hauling a hefty chest behind them. Following the chest were two raven black horses with two men upon their backs, a human and an elf. Behind the raven horses were two sorrel horses carrying a male dwarf and what appeared to be a stout man with piercing teeth. I had never seen a Werecat, but if I could guess what they appeared to look like, this would be my guess. One more horse shadowed the two sorrel, a massive draft horse which was brown with a white mane and tail. This horse carried an Urgal.

The bearers were one from each race, traditionally all were male. The elven man barked a command to the horses carting the chest and they both halted. The bearers all descended off of their horses in unison before striding out in front of the hefty container that had been towed by the horses.

The bearers said nothing as they unbolted the chest from the hitches behind the horses. They trundled the box into the center of the pavilion before placing breaks in front and behind each of the wheels on the base of the container.

I stood enthralled by the bearers themselves. Although I had seen this presentation before, this time was more remarkable than the last. The box had elaborate carvings etched across its surface; the patterns contrasting the wood itself.

The elven man unlatched the iron deadbolt on the front of the box but did not push it open.

“Welcome! As some of you may know my name is Taoin. This year, we have an extra special Hatching. Instead of three eggs, there is four. The mother of this clutch produced an additional egg this year and we thought it appropriate to add it to the Hatching.” Everyone in the pavilion applauded at the declaration and Taoin flung open the box. Inside, as promised, resided four eggs. There was a purple egg, silver egg, red egg, and an emerald egg. All of the eggs were stunning, but the emerald egg was especially beautiful. As soon as Taoin exposed the eggs my observation never left the green egg.

Suddenly, my audible range became hushed and distant. My peripheral vision became more indistinct than customary as I zoned in on the egg. An agonizing, burning sensation reverberated throughout my entire body, but it was distant. And in the same instant, my vision, hearing, and sense of mind was reestablished.

It felt as if I trekked through time, when my senses had been restored, I was standing in front of the chest. It appeared as if I had already waited in the line. There were people behind me, and there was a line along the side of people who had already tried. I perceived that the red egg inside of the box was gone.

“Is there an egg you would like to touch first?” Taoin asked. I nodded and pointed to the emerald egg. “Very well. Green and ginger go together very well.” Taoin smiled as his picked up the egg and held out his arms for me to touch it. I stretched out keenly, but stopped short. The dread that the egg wouldn’t hatch for me was greater than the need to hatch the egg. What if I was rejected, again, by someone or something else?

Nonetheless, everyone was staring. The tips of my fingers brushed the egg. White tendons were crawling along its surface that possessed a rough consistency under my fingers and as I felt the egg beneath me, fire coursed through my veins as I wailed out in agony. My vision clouded for an instant, before transitioning to complete darkness. I felt myself fall, but I did not feel the impact. The things I loved always seemed to hurt me.

My head hurt. That was my only awareness. Agonizing throbbing in my temples. I groaned and narrowed my already sealed eyes before rubbing my temples fiercely.

“Look who’s awake!” I felt a semi-heavy weight press against my abdomen. I grumbled again, but louder. I opened my eyes slightly before closing them again. “Common! Open up! You’ll be happy.” I opened my eyes again, my vision cloudy and bright. I blinked the sleep away after many endeavors to find my sister and parents standing over me, grinning. I was laying in my bed in my dwelling.

My room contained few things: a bookshelf on the right wall, my bed, and a small desk with a washing basin and cloth.

“What happened?” I asked with a hoarse voice.

“Look!” Lyn exclaimed. The weight still had not been raised from my abdomen and I looked down towards my stomach.  Inactive on my stomach, gawking at me with one velvety green eye, was an emerald dragonet. I gently pressed my back up against the headboard as not to disrupt the hatchling. I could not tell if the dragon was male or female, but as I examined my mind I felt that if I roamed too far, I would drift away. I found that my mind was no longer secure, and a feeble presence kept to the back of my mind. As I leaned towards the assumption of the dragon being male, the hatchling gave a low rumble in its belly and I knew it was a male.

He was different than other dragons I had seen. He had long limbs and thin angular body. His claws were long and instead of the normal silvery pigment, it was obsidian. The stumpy horns and spikes on his forehead and spine were white, however.

I gawked at him in complete awe, and I extended my hand out to touch him before realizing the silver oval on my palm. I twisted my wrist as the light redirected off of the glossy surface of my palm.

“Congratulations. It is an honor to become a Rider,” Taoin stepped out from the crook of the room with a smile on his face. “I regret to inform you we must leave for Ellesméra immediately. Your kind sister packed your belongings for you already.” I stared at my sister.

“Could you give Lyn and me a moment please?” Taoin and my parents both nodded before withdrawing from the room.

“I’m sure you want to yell at me again. Well don’t waste your breath, I’m leaving after you.” Lyn flung a pack at the end of my bed and crossed her arms.

“I’m sorry,” I said. Her face relaxed and she unfolded her arms.

“Really?” I nodded. “Well I’m still leaving. After you hatched your dragon, I agreed to go with Taoin’s company to receive bearer training. I want to be a bearer.” The dragon pawed gently at my legs.

“I’m happy for you Lyn. Can we agree to depart on good terms?” Lyn nodded, but I could tell she was suspicious. “Thank you.”

“Taoin said you had to leave immediately; there’s a horse waiting for you outside and the carriage pulled by the white horses will be ahead of you with your dragon.” I nodded and my dragon hurdled from my abdomen and landed on the wood below. I pushed myself up from my bed, groaning in discomfort at my sore muscles. I stood up and with Lyn by my side, I walked to the door with my dragon at my heels.

 ~                           ~                          ~

“We’re so proud of you, Roslyn. Make us burst with pride, be sure to visit us when he is fully grown.” My parents, beaming down at me with tears lingering in their eyes, embraced me. My pack was hoisted on my back. Lyn stood behind them in the door frame, grinning. Taoin stood behind me as he gestured me to my horse. It was a sorrel stallion, and I longed for my mornings with River that I knew I wouldn’t see for a long time. I mounted the stallion and secured my feet; my dragon leaping into Taoin’s arms.

“Take care of River for me, father!” He nodded and waved at me as Taoin disappeared inside the carriage with my dragonet. I urged my stallion forward and at a brisk trot, my journey began.