A Fifth Daughter [Book 1: The Dragon Rider]

Chapter ~ 9

~ Chapter 9: The Bickering Duo Argue Over Tombstones ~

The V2 picks Filly and I up at 8:30 for breakfast. We're both unquestionably morning people compared to all the other Acolytes on the train as they lean against the windows or each other to get an extra few minutes of sleep. The V2 is only one car smaller than its namesake and the second car is packed. Elves, Dwarves, Vampires, Werewolves, humans, Shifters, Witches, Wizards, Sages, Shades, Warlocks, Fae, and even some Venti Fairies are all sitting two-by-two in the seats of the last two cars. The door leading to the first car has a sign over the tinted window; Teachers Only. Thankfully two seats have been left open beside each other, because after the look we shared, I don't think Filly and I would have enjoyed being separated.

A Fae and – I think – a Witch (maybe a Sage) sit in front of us. Some people used to think that Fae and Elves were the same, and maybe some still do, but there are noticeable differences. For one, Fae features are sharp and cold, while Elves appear homey and happy, there is nothing inviting about Fae. Their long pointed ears that sometimes almost touch behind their heads, look as if they've been torn into by some angry animal. They have dagger like teeth and longer canines that sometimes sneak over their lips. They're the evil counterpart of Elves and they make me shiver and Filly uncomfortable as her body tightens up into a rigid posture.

"When's your birthday?" Filly asks, obviously trying to ignore the Fae.

"August 26th." She blinks and actually focuses on me. I nearly smile to hide how uncomfortable I am under her wide gaze. "What?"

"Mine is the 24th."

Now I do smile. "Really?"

"Yeah." She almost smiles back. I'm getting there. Soon she'll be grinning all the time.

"Guess we both got the Dragonmage bomb dropped on us, huh?"

Filly shrugs. "Apparently. Although, unlike obviously you, I've been looking forward to this for years. I couldn't stand being seen as a mia fenghi anymore."

I raise an eyebrow. "Why?"

"Let's just say, when you're someone like me, you don't exactly get a lot of respect and are always left wishing you'd never been born. The only good thing about me is that I'm an Elf – a mongrel maybe – but an Elf, and I can go to whatever school I want to within Fantasy's boarders. Dragonmage offered the out I wanted."

Both eyebrows have shot into my hairline, but I try to hide my surprise. She definitely doesn't want my questions. I hadn't really taken notice – or thought about – the difference between her and other Elves I've seen. She's short, even if she hasn't hit her growth spurt it doesn't seem like she'll get much taller. Her ears are slightly rounded, but only slightly, and her complexion is lighter – more human – than the darkness of Forest Elves, which I know she is. She's stuck with her green clothing and a small headband of leaves twists through her hair. It's plain to see she's a mongrel.

It's amazing what you take notice of when you know there's something different about them. Makes me feel disgusted with myself. So I turn to her fully.

"Ask me something else, because I can't think right now." I also don't want anything insulting to come out of my mouth if I ask something too personal. I can think better when someone else is asking.

"Okay." There's that almost smile again. "What color dragon are you hoping for?"

Ugh... that's an awful question. Why am I not asking again?

I shrug to hide my agitation. "Don't know." Thankfully my two weeks falls under the 'one month until you get your dragon' guideline. "I haven't really thought about it. I suppose if I get one I'll have to deal with whatever color it is. I don't think you get to choose."