Dragon Riders

Prologue

            I grew up in a world where dragon riders were revered for not only their bravery and looks, but also for their intelligence. Children would spend days on end studying just in the hopes that they would get accepted to the Rider School, and those who did get accepted left their homes like kings, followed with respect and well wishes.

            It had been years since a dragon rider had been accepted into the Rider School from my town, which was understandable since we boasted a population of only about 100 kids in the acceptable age range.

            Every year we were visited by the Counselor, the man who decided who would be accepted, and every year at that time our town lit up. Festivities lasted the Counselor's whole stay, with competitions to test children's intelligence, stamina, strength, and looks set up to look like games.

            Like every year at that time I was groomed to a near breaking point, and stuffed inside my nicest dress, which most of the time was too small, and paraded out to the festival. My brothers and I would participate in the "games" and would be disappointed by our poor scoring before rushing home in hopes of making it in time to have some of mother's delicious pie, which she only baked on the day of the festival.

            Then, in my 15th year, everything changed. That summer my body had started to darken under the sun until my skin seemed to "glow, like the candle" as my mother said. My muscles had tightened and become more defined under the grueling work it took to keep the farm on which my family lived operating, and my previously mud brown hair had grown and darkened until it draped down my back like an onyx cloak. My previously poor sight was changed to be sharper than most of the hunters in our village and my face had lost the last of its childish characteristics.

            Mother said it was a miracle, how my looks changed, and soon my father and brothers were fending off advances from the young boys of our village. Around me people where complementing me on my face and body, and asking me the secret as to how I had grown to look the way I did. Embarrassed I would answer as honest as I could and moved on.

            And then it was time for the festival. With my newly shaped body I could no longer fit into the childish gingham dress that I had worn previous years and my mother decided that instead of making me a new dress, we would splurge and buy one. So, by the time the fair rolled around, you could almost sense the excitement in my household, it seemed to be notched up more than the year before.

            It was one of my brother's, Jacob, last years of eligibility, meaning that my parents were trying to turn it into a big event, as if after 18 years of being rejected he would finally be accepted. Of course none of us said this, and just went with the festive mood.