The sounds around Tate Delmont were deafening in the city square. However, he barely heard the commotion. His mind was too busy wandering down a path of memories as he pulled out the large eggs from their crates lined up in front of him. He polished the large eggs carefully before displaying them one by one for all to see. He was barely aware of what his hands were doing, but there was no way he'd drop one of the priceless treasures. The eggs gleamed in the afternoon sun as they were meticulously nested on their velvet cushions and silks. Although they were massive eggs, which barely fit into the cradle of Tate's arms, in his hands they managed to look as delicate as spun glass.
If the eggs alone weren't enough to get people's attention. People who passed couldn't help but glance at him or openly gawk, he was famous after all. Being famous and handsome was the most potent combination for attention, whether wanted or unwanted. To some passersby, mostly men, he was a legendary hero who had tragically been reduced to just another noble by no fault of his own. A living legend forced to live among mere mortals like them. To others, mostly women, he was like some divine being shining brighter than the sun no matter what his current circumstances. They each fantasized about being the one chosen to comfort him in his despair, they longed to be the sole reason for his happiness.
He was Tate of house Delmont, the youngest son of Lord Akir the head adviser to the Emperor. His mother Kira, was a great beauty of the Empire and a fashionable leader in her corner of court. His oldest brother Dian was a respected, swiftly rising member of the House of Judgment. He was known for his solid winning streak when it came to championing justice in the courts. His house was well respected by nobles and commoners alike.
However, Tate was not like the rest of his family who all had a hand in the politics, policies, and fashion of the Empire. Tate was the fallen soldier. At only twenty years old his career which had been a shooting star had already crashed into the earth, quite literally. His name was whispered wherever he went with both awe and pity. Tate was, or he had been a Dragon Rider. He had been a prodigy, the youngest to ever hatch an egg. He had touched a dragon egg that was in his family's vaults when he was only five. It had not even been a "Choosing Day" but the egg had responded to him. He still remembered the pain and the rush of power that had filled him. It may have actually been the first vivid memory of his life.
When he had walked back upstairs out of the basement he had been in a bit of a daze. His little feet had taken him automatically to the person who was at the time his safe space. His mother had screamed hysterically when her five-year-old had appeared in her parlor. She had been hosting a tea for her three best friends when her son suddenly appeared with a dragonling wrapped around his tiny shoulders and runic tattoos from his fingertips up to the corner of his right eye. His little chubby face had visible tear tracks down his cheeks and snot running out of his nose. Oblivious to his mother's confusion and fear he'd walked until his face ran into the side of her dress and buried his face there hiding and shaking, clinging to the fabric for dear life. He only realized much later that he'd made his mother fall into hysterics because her child was clinging to her with an unknown dragonling clinging to him and she'd been terrified but too scared to touch him or the unexpected creature.
He lost his childhood that day, it was also the last time he was physically able to cling to his mother like the small child he was. It was not long at all before everyone in the capitol knew the story, and not long after that before those in the countryside heard of it as well. At just five years old he'd been sent to the Dragon Academy. He'd been thrown into a world that for most new trainees didn't start until they were at least thirteen. For ten years he'd endured jealousy, rivalry, and bullying. In time he did find camaraderie and friendship, but it was hard won from those older than him, many of whom were forced to acknowledge his power and skills only after being humiliated by him in training.
He was fifteen when the war broke out. The Veneswa nation to the south began to block trade into the Empire from the smaller coastal nations below them. It was not necessarily their main objective to create an enemy out of the Empire but was instead an attempt to subjugate these smaller nations. The king of Veneswa, who pushed this plan forward against his adviser's wishes, made a huge miscalculation. He thought it would only take a month at most to subdue his neighbors and take over as their king. He never could have anticipated the fight those scrappy little countries would put up and their refusal to bow down to him. The unintentional consequence of this was that the trade routes remained closed for so long that it quickly became a problem. The king of Veneswa was so focused on the stubborn countries and angered that his invasion was failing that he forgot the most powerful and feared country was to his back, the large and prosperous Empire. The Empire of Lya was not a forgiving land. It had not become the largest and most prosperous country on the content by being a pushover. When the demands for the king of Veneswa to stop his foolishness came from the Emperor the king felt insulted and wronged. This invasion was what his legacy was riding on, who cared if a few merchants were losing their bottom line? The result of this thought was that he dug in his heels and ignored the Emperor, and no one ignored the Emperor. The Emperor sent infantry first to occupy Veneswa which was met with little resistance because the focus of the kingdom and its king was to the south of its borders. The king was enraged when he received word at his outpost that his castle had been taken over and claimed as property of the Empire. In a surprising twist, the king who had sought to subjugate his neighbors was being subjugated himself. In one of the most unlikely and unwilling alliances in history he and his lower neighbors had no choice but to join forces to prevent them all being annexed into the Empire of Lya.
With more numbers than the Emperor had initially sent to invade now coming against them, the Emperor changed tactics. This was no longer about a trade route being blocked, it was about nations he'd generously left alone all this time defying his will and the will of the Empire. Thus, he dispatched the Empire's greatest weapons, the very reason for the Empire's success. The "Dragon Corps" was sent to rain down fire and destruction on the insolent. Those in the south did possess a few dragon riders. These riders were gained from eggs that had been randomly found or stolen over the centuries. However, they did not have the numbers or training that the riders of the Empire had.
Tate and his dragon Aquana had blazed into glory during those three years. It was estimated that he and Aquana were single-handedly responsible for the capture of two of the resisting countries. Everything had been going perfectly for him until he was betrayed. He still didn't know who had been behind the attack to this day. His only memories of the worst day of his life were that they were traveling to their new post at a small coastal town and were not expected until late in the night. He was floating peacefully on Aquana's back, chatting with her happily about the beautiful fields of wildflowers passing beneath them as they cruised at one of the dragon's lowest speeds. He remembered the bright sunshine beaming down on them accompanied by the pleasant breeze that was created by her wings. Her scales were so warm and soft beneath his body that he had begun to get sleepy. He remembered just nodding off when his entire world shook and a sound, a scream, that he would never forget if he lived a thousand lives came from Aquana. He had jerked awake but everything happened too fast. They plummeted to the ground. The crash from her huge body hitting the dirt threw him from her back and his body was slung through the wildflowers he'd been admiring. It turned out they were flowers with thorns. Dizzy and bleeding from hundreds of small cuts and slashes to his entire body he had risen and stumbled to Aquana. He had gasped then sobbed when he saw her even as his ears rang and his body's damage began to make itself known. Her right wing was gone, just completely severed. He didn't even see it anywhere. Smoke rose from her chest as her flame acid and activator glands began to mix in her still body. The last straw was when he took in her neck, dragon necks were pliable and limber but they were not meant to be bent in such a grotesque angle.
"Aqua." He sobbed. He reached for her, even though he was still at least a hundred paces away. The explosion that came from her body threw him once again. This time as he lay on his back almost unconscious he watched with blurry vision as fragments of her skin and scales fell and floated in the air mixing with ash until he at last blacked out.