Wisteria Colland has prepared her entire life for the Rider's Quadrant. Why would you go into infantry or the scribes when you could have the chance to bond a dragon? But things aren't as simple as Wisteria had hoped when she gets herself tangled up...
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Have you ever wondered what flying feels like? Well, take falling, and then reverse it.
Because falling sucks, and flying is great, you know? Falling is where you die, and flying is where you live. Falling; down. Flying; up. Reverse.
These are the kind of thoughts that race through my head as I fall to my death. I don't know how far I am from the glistening underground lake I had seen from solid earth up above, but I know I've been in freefall for at least three seconds. And that's a long time, when you think about it.
Well, in any case, it's a long time when the next second is potentially your last.
I squeeze my eyes shut tight and prepare for the impact that would shatter every bone in my body, trying to dissociate like I had always done with arguments. But it doesn't work. Of course not. Not when I actually want it too. Nothing ever does.
So my eyes are still squeezed tight when the impact comes—except my bones don't shatter. Theres no searing pain and then nothing; just the air getting thrust out of my lungs and giant claws wrapping around my body. Wait—what? The claws are gone before I can register what just happened and I fall the next few feet into the water below, which is surprisingly shallow. I flail around for a moment before breaking the surface, wheezing as I try to recover my breath, and rest on my knees. The water is freezing—as you would expect from an underground lake—but the fact that it goes all the way up to my chest doesn't help.
I sit there for a moment, wondering how I'm still alive, as I sputter and cough and wheeze. And then I hear a voice. A cold, low, feminine voice that is humanoid yet otherworldly at the same time.
"Get up. You look like a dying fish."
My first thought is to be offended. My next thought is, what the hell?
"Are all humans this slow? I said get up."
I slowly get to my feet and raise my eyes from the surface of the water. Giant eyes, each as big as my torso, glimmer at me from the dark. Except these eyes aren't golden, as all dragon's are. They're blue. A cold, cunning blue, pale like my own yet a hundred times more intelligent.
"I'm glad you realize that, Wisteria Colland. I see you're not as idiotic as you look."
"Excuse you?' I sputter. "I don't know who you are, or why your eyes are blue, or why you're even down here, but that, I might say, is rude."
The dragon, which I still cannot see except for its large glowing eyes, lets out a chortle that I can only translate into laughter. "Of course you don't know who I am, child. Hardly anyone does. But I suppose you have to know what I look like eventually."
