Wings of Fire • Quest for Autonomy [Book 1]

scene i.

Fifty years later...

She could not see the desk or the paper which sat on it, but she felt like it was staring at her – as if mocking her. Under her talons, she could feel the raised lines which came together to form words. So many professions to pick from, so many easy choices – a simple check would do – but now that the moment to decide had come, Dragonet Q-984 did not know which to pick.

     It was obvious among the list which ones she should consider first. Hunter, farmer, gatherer, or sentry. Those jobs would allow her to go to the surface. But she did not have a high enough mark to be a hunter (why did she need to memorize the breeding requirements of buffalo, anyway?) and while being a sentry might be nice, she would work long, sporadic shifts. Could she stand for hours under the hot sun with nothing but her mind and the sky for company?

     Probably, she thought to herself. Simply seeing the sky would be enough for her. But she feared she would get distracted and miss an enemy spy, and if she failed in defending the Colony in the simplest way possible, how could she live with herself?

     No, she would have to make do with farmer or gatherer. From many years in schooling, she knew exactly what these jobs entailed: Farmers tended the crops on the former site of the city, feeding three tribes, while gatherers collected the harvest. Both of these jobs were only annual, because while crops were growing or being planted, depending on your job, you had nothing to do. So she was back to her original predicament, trying to decide what lesser occupation to pick.

     Other dragonets did not have such luxury as she. With one of the highest Examination marks, Q-984 was allowed almost any job. Almost. It seemed any menial, boring task like cleaning or digging or plumbing was not for her. Surprisingly, neither was Hunter, the one she and her friend Q-974 had wanted to pick together.

     But Seven... (as they liked to shorten their names since really the only difference was one number; Q-984 went as Eight). Seven had been designated a Hunter after her Examination, so she was already sorted. The young AntWing was just sitting at her seat, waiting for the others to finish.

     "Five more minutes," intoned the Dragon Sorter, reminding the dragonets they did not have all day to decide their futures.

     She marked 'Gatherer' by dragging her pencil over the raised lines. Now for a lesser job to occupy her when the fields were not in harvest...

     The only problem with having as high an Examination mark as she did was that she acquired the mark by being good on almost every exam. She felt like she had to be because what would happen if a potential Worker was useless, unable to aid the war effort? Three tribes depended on the AntWings surviving. They had no other option but to be perfect.

     Thus the studying, cramming, panicking, inevitable failure due to stress, momentary relief, and now overwhelming unsureness:

     What if my Examination was a fluke? What if all those marks I got were just accidents, and I'm actually very, very bad like I was at all the exams for those repetitive jobs? What if I lose interest in the jobs I pick and I embarrass myself so badly that I-

     "The Sorting is now over, you may turn in your papers."

     She quickly crossed Metalwork before she could think twice and slammed her pencil down. Just in time, too, as she could hear the Dragon Sorter rustling about in the darkness. Papers were being collected. Hers was taken a moment later, and Eight realized she did not know what would happen next. She did not even know the pathway to the gardens, or the forge. How was she supposed to do her job if-