Trial and Error
William's Perspective
I ran to my home on the outskirts of the city walls. The sky was completely black as the city lit up with fireworks. I was panting hard as I tried to recuperate air into my lungs. The tracking spell my father sent out to track me hasn't connected with me. The home was still rundown, with a cobblestone wall surrounding the front.
I close the wooden door quickly as I lean my back against it. I was clenching the eggshell I carried here, feeling its heartbeat still beating.
Thump-Thump Thump-Thump
Its pull was almost intoxicating, alluring as if staring at the morning sun. I ran my fingers on its now smooth surface in my pocket. Pulling it out to check on its condition, its golden color seemed to pulsate in my hands as what appeared to be dust was pulled into the shell. That strange pull even came back again, making it feel like I was being sucked into the shell as well.
That's when I felt a sudden, warm presence on my back. My back felt a tender prickling sensation run up to my shoulders as the sudden warmth spread throughout my body. Then, it vanishes.
"Father!" I said it out loud. It was his tracking spell. He knew I was here now.
I was still harboring anger towards my father, but beneath it all, guilt and regret obscured my emotions. I wanted to be alone, yet the silent company of the egg and its mysterious pull kept me tethered.
Ẁ̸̬͈̖̹̯̥͓̓͆̽͝ë̴̡̳̳̞̥̻̠̩͔́̍ͅ ̶̫̭͍̖̼̒̐̅͑̈́͒̎͑͠h̴̭̹̤̱͊͂̏̽̌̂̽̊̚̚a̴͕͐̀́̕v̵̲̮̊̌̎͆̚ȩ̷̮̱̹̓̊̋̓͆͂͐̀ ̷̡̨̥̮͎̫̱͚̣̼͌̓̐̊̏̽͒̃͠e̷̡̫͆̀̏͆̒͠ą̵͈̟͙͖͙̝̲͌̓̕c̴̣̜̗̪̺̅̋͒͗̐͂͑̿̕ͅh̶͕͇̫̫̮̲̪̐ ̵̡̧̩͔̰͗͐̏̉́͝ó̷̡͔̻̙͉̠͈̏͊͊͑͒̈t̵̡̛̝̟̻̝̩̩͓̎̏̃̓̋͒ḩ̴̖̲̄͆̓̔́͒̊̎̌͘ͅe̴̛̥̦̬̖̯̲̯͋̀̀͐̿̈͛̚̕r̷͈̦͎̞͇̈́̔́̾͒̎͘͜ͅ.̵̈́͝
Wait. We? What is this? Who else is in my head?
Thump-Thump Thump-Thump
Looking down at the egg, I took it upstairs to my room. It was somehow still alive and speaking.
No, not speaking. Feeling. But it felt different. Like it wasn't just some feeling. It was like it was the truth, even the world knew it was the truth. That feeling was absolute.
Thinking about it made me remember my father's conversation with Lord Dimmon.
Is this how dragons bond with their riders? Is this their influence? If it's influencing me, does that make as its rider? How can this even be possible?
"William!"
Before I could think about it more, a loud bang came from downstairs. Apparently, my father opened the front door a little too hard. I could feel the floorboards underneath my feet quiver.
Rushing over to tuck the eggshell underneath the pillow, my father came into my room; his face was etched with worry and concern. But once he saw me, his face relaxed as his shoulders sank.
"Sorry for barging in like that," my father said, looking down regretfully. "My spell took a while to find you, and I was concerned that..."
Before he could speak, I hugged him, burying my face into his cotton shirt. "You don't have to say, Dad, I understand." I felt his hand on the back of my head and shoulder.
"There, there. There's nothing wrong with being upset." My father spoke as he guided me to sit on my bed, kneeling before me and lifting my chin. "It was wrong of me to keep the truth of the Blight from you. You aren't a little boy, and I must accept that. After losing your mother, I didn't want to lose you too. It was my job to protect her. Both of you."
His words were reassuring to some extent, but that's because he doesn't know what happened. We weren't good at having extensive one-on-one conversations like this. "Father, I get it; you don't have to tell me." I tried to keep my emotions together, however. What he just said and what happened earlier were getting too much as tears climbed out of my sockets.
Father sat down next to me as he extended his arm to the photo of him and my mother. "You know, I still remember this day. You and your mother are more alike than you think. Always so emotional, especially when it came to hunting."
I wiped some of the small tears as I made a sniffle. "What you mean?"
"Dad, it's a cute little fox; we can't just kill it," my father said, imitating a child's voice.
"I was five!"
"It wasn't even small, and it could breathe fire."
My father and I stared at each other as we started laughing together. That fox he mentioned was a Fire Fox, and they are the size of an overgrown dog. They aren't cute once they start getting violent. It took my father quite a while to kill it. It was also my first time hunting an animal that the guild wanted.
My father manages to get control of himself as he wipes his eye with his hand. "Your mother was like that, always loving the wildlife, even if the wildlife was crazy."
"Is that why we do a chant every time we eat?"
"It is. The chant is a way for us to respect those who assisted in getting our food. Even if they were killed in the process." He brought the photo closer to us. "Plus, you also have her nose."
"No, I don't." I smacked my father's shoulder. "I can't see."
"Oooow, easy; I'm an old man, remember."
"No, you're not!"
"Thanks!"
That was it; I tackled him right there and then on the bed as we horseplayed. That attitude of his bothered me. But I wasn't angry at him. I was happy—the fact we were able to talk somewhat made me feel better.
After getting my butt kicked, my father stood up and walked to the door. "It's late, Will. You should get your rest. Remember that I am here if you need someone to talk to. And don't let anyone put you down. You're a lot stronger than you think."
I chuckled slightly as I stood at the door with him. "I know, Father. You always say that."
Father and I stared at each other awkwardly until he clapped his hands. "Well. Have a good rest. We have training in the morning."
I scoffed, "Again? Really?"
"No buts," my father responded, pointing a finger at me.
I rolled my eyes as I watched him go downstairs. I quickly closed my door and went straight to my bed. There, I pulled out the eggshell. When I grabbed its smooth golden surface, the familiar pull from before came with it. But it was slightly more intense, almost making me feel like I was having an out-of-body experience this time.
Father didn't notice it, nor did I tell him about my test with Kevlar. I couldn't tell him. I bet he would be disappointed in me if he did. Staring at the eggshell, a part of me is clinging to a dead dream.
How am I supposed to be a rider without a dragon?
But that can wait. My father said he would talk to Lord Barren about this, so there is hope. With a new determination based on false hope, I tucked the eggshell underneath my pillow as I lay on my bed. I laid my head on the pillow's edge so I didn't crush the shell. Lying on the old, torn blanket, I found it somewhat itchy, but I was used to it. I turned onto my side, sliding my arm under the pillow as I made myself comfortable. I closed my eyes and patiently waited for me to lose consciousness. I usually have to.
Next day
The sound of knocking on wood woke me as I sat up quickly, shouting at my father that I was up. Stretching my arms as I turned my body so I was sitting on the edge of the bed, my body was extra sore and almost feeble for some reason. Moving took much more effort than before, so I channeled more of my magic into my body.
My father told me to constantly channel all my magic into my body. I decided to save some of it, against his wishes, in case something like this happened. However, I also noticed the lack of magic in my body.
When channeling magic, you would feel a strange, almost ethereal-like sensation that would flow through the body depending on where you directed it, but that feeling was practically diminished.
Thump-Thump Thump-Thump
I turned around to notice something I never thought I would see. A large golden egg, shimmering brightly, rests against my bed frame.
Thump-Thump Thump-Thump Thump-Thump
The heartbeat was loud and mighty, unlike before. The strong pull that once had on me wasn't as strong as before. Reaching over to touch it, I noticed its scale-like pattern was smoother than before as well. Its golden surface reflected light off of it that seeped into my room, almost like pure gold. It felt warm. Alive.
Hold up, wasn't this just a simple eggshell? How did it turn back into an egg?
My mind race with confusion as I stared at the egg. Then it hit me. I can't let anyone know I have this. How am I supposed to tell my father about this? He would freak out. Nor would he accept it. Think. Think. What to do?
The basement!
"Will!"
I could hear my father downstairs. Needing him to get out of the house, I walked over to my bedroom door and opened it. "Ya, can you wait for me outside? I'll be right there."
"Don't take too long." I heard my father's response as I could hear the faint sounds of the front door opening.
Grabbing the large egg, I slowly took my time going down the steps, as the egg was much heavier than it looked, each step making a loud wooden creak that would terrify children. After making it to the bottom of the stairs, I looked around to check my surroundings.
In front of me was the door; to my left was the kitchen with a massive wall that also functioned as a drawer and a counter that separated from the living room. I ran across the kitchen, buried the egg in my chest, and went straight into the living room.
The living room had a fireplace, a small, stylish table, and three chairs on top of an old rug. In the corner was a lovely, comfortable couch. It was our best furniture for guests. There were a few decorations, but I paid no attention to them as I moved to the far corner of the rug and threw it back to reveal a cellar. I threw open the wooden door. It's called the cellar, but my father and I call it the basement, as we store our stuff inside it. It was almost pitch black, with a ladder going down it. I placed every foot down carefully as I held the egg tighter. Each step sounded like it would break the ladder until I reached the bottom. Rushing over to a random spot, I put the egg down, ran back to the ladder, and climbed up.
I hope nothing happens to it as I close the cellar door and throw the rug back over.
____
"You're sluggish this morning," my father said as he swung his bow at me like a polearm. Each swing was quick and precise, and then he would throw a random jab.
"Rough sleep, that's all." Blocking each attack with my wooden sword. I didn't know how to dull an actual blade, so my father made me use a wooden blade to be safe when we trained.
"If it makes you feel better..." My father spun as he let go of his hand to allow more distance with his other hand on the bow. I dove under it, only to see him swing it back over his head, making me dive to the side. "I almost feel more sore and sluggish than usual. I'm not sure if it was the festival, emotions, or the bed."
I pant hard as the taste of sweat dwells in my mouth. I wiped my face as I remembered what Kevlar said about me never being a rider. Those words still ring in my ears. I don't know what will happen now that I stole a dragon egg. I hadn't considered the consequences. It dawned on me: in Drakelene, the Order prohibits the theft of dragon eggs. Ownership is reserved solely for riders sanctioned by tradition.
There goes my chance of becoming a Dragon Rider permanently. If the egg in the basement hatches and I become its rider, both of us and my father will be executed. If I tell Lord Barren, he can help me out. No, he can't. He's the Knight Commander, and it wouldn't look good on him if he did.
Before I realized it, my father swung the bow behind my foot; its curved hook reached around my whole leg as he pulled on it. I closed my eyes as the world turned right up. I felt my head connect with the ground with a loud thud, making me see stars in my vision.
"You're distracted. Focus," my father retorted as he swung his bow over his head and brought it down onto me.
I tried to focus as I rolled out of the way, collecting my footing as I stood my ground with my sword up. He swung with broad attacks to allow himself to keep his distance. Using my sword to deflect his attacks, I tried to get closer, but his attacks hit hard. Luckily, I feinted one of my attempts to deflect, making him lunge forward at me with a jab.
Grinning widely, I repositioned my foot quickly so I could sidestep; I managed to move out of the way. With this, I dug my feet into the ground and pushed towards my father. He was still stuck in motion from his attack as I went to knee him. I threw up my leg as I felt my knee dig into his gut, making him step back.
Before I could rest, my heart sank as he grabbed the back of my neck and pulled me towards him. As he yanked me towards him, I felt all the wind in my gut get forced out of me as he kneed me in the stomach. He didn't knee me once, but twice. Then three times. Then he threw me behind him on the ground.
I coughed hard, struggling to collect my breath. I looked up at him feebly. "Just because you manage a hit doesn't mean you stop. Always stay as many steps ahead." He walked over as I took a greedy breath and stood back up. "And don't get overconfident in the moment because you have obtained an opportunity to strike."
I yelled as I charged him, swinging my sword at him as he stepped out of it. Frustrated, I swung even faster until he kicked the sword out of my hand. Before I could retaliate, he raised the sharp edge of his bow to my neck.
"Defeated," he said to me, barely breaking a sweat.
I pushed his weapon away from me with a bit more pique than I would have liked. I was just frustrated. Father says I'm stronger than I know, and yet I feel like crap, especially with everything that has happened. So much is at stake now because of my actions. It's been less than a few days, and I already feel more like a failure than ever.
"Head to the shack and grab some steak," my father yelled randomly. "You need that protein, boy!"
I scoffed at him. "Do I have to? I just got my butt kicked."
"Yes. Now. Unless you don't want breakfast."
Rolling my eyes as I sighed, I approached the shack next to the house. It was much more well-kept than our house, but that's for a good reason. I opened the wooden door, revealing a stockpile of food—mainly plants and meats. However, the atmosphere was different. It was cold as white dust-like particles floated in the air.
Magic.
My father savaged some magic tech from one of the other kingdoms. If I recall correctly, it was Perin, the Floating City. If Aunt Silfe told me correctly, Herios, the Kingdom of Heroes, was its ally. I always wanted to avoid foreign politics. It made my head hurt.
Perin was supposed to be this magical city that floats in the sky. Its technology is only rivaled by Asgard. Utilizing the technology, my father made a modified stasis unit inside the shack to keep our food cold and decompose slower. He never told me or showed me how he got or modified the technology. He only told me that he had the parts on hand to make adjustments.
Walking into the shack, filled with shelves covered in food and meat hooks, I made my way over to one of the raw-cut steaks hanging over a meat hook. It was about half my size as it dangled off the floor. Father always takes about a quarter of our food from our hunts. Sometimes, we even gather herbs and plants on the way back and plant them outside. Grabbing hold of a label on the hook, it said. Buckweval. A Buckweval was a large, striped cat with a bird's mouth. The peak was strong enough to chew down trees, and its claws could puncture iron armor. Incredibly strong. Very dangerous.
I looked around for a knife to use. Luckily, there was one. I grabbed it and took a piece of the meat off of the steak.
Arriving back in the house with the steak, I walked it over to the makeshift sink. At the corner of the sink sat a crystal. It had a dark sky-blue color that glowed. It was an Ether Stone. They could be found anywhere throughout Kalos, but most of them and the best quality can only be mined in Asgard.
Ether Stones are used as a power source. My father says it's a reusable energy source because it is made from Ether. Ether is the magical energy that flows throughout all of reality. However, the more stable the Ether is, the less it can influence the world around us. Kalos's Ether wasn't entirely stable, so it does affect us, according to Aunt Silfe. Sometimes, the Ether can be trapped underground and compressed into stone, forming a crystal, which is what the Ether Stone is. When someone uses the stone or magic, they release Ether back into the world, allowing it to be reused.
Grabbing the stone, I held it above the steak as I pushed magic into it. Channeling my energy into the stone, it glowed brighter, and soon, a stream of water emerged.
"I see your getting better at channeling your magic into the Ether Stone. Good idea to buy an enchanted one at that!" My father walked around with a few plants.
"It's easy because you've been making me channel magic throughout my body since I was a kid," I replied, focusing on the steak as I cleaned it.
"I'm glad you're focused on that; I can tell that you're still upset."
He can tell? Is it that obvious? I can't tell him the truth. But I have to do something. Keeping the egg here isn't safe. Keeping it here in Drakelene isn't safe at all.
"I was thinking about what it would be like to be an adventurer," I blurted out quickly.
My father looked at me, "Eh? What's with the sudden change of heart? It's been your only dream to become a Dragon Rider."
"I know. I know; it was just something I thought of." I looked up at him.
"You're still growing; you've got time to figure out what you want to be."
"I know."
"Do you, though?" I glared at my father for a moment. He had a severe look on his face, but then it lightened. "Sorry, it's just that if you wait to decide, the world will decide for you, and you won't like what the world will give you if it does."
After our little conversation, we finished making breakfast and ate it quietly. Father left shortly after that, saying he had to go into town for something regarding an Elven Kingdom near the western border of Herios.
Elves are rare to see, or pure elves are. So an Elven Kingdom is big news. I wouldn't be surprised if all of Kalos got involved.
I hope Asgard doesn't get involved. A place called the Kingdom of Slaves developed its name for good reasons and was the reason why the Blight exists. It is the enemy of Drakelene and the Order of Drake. I cannot support Asgard. They would turn the elves into slaves.
It wasn't until later in the evening that my father returned home. A group of bandits had discovered a hidden elven city and tried to raid it. They were all killed, but the raid left the elves vulnerable and exposed. Father was concerned for some reason. He said that he's worried about what Herios will do. Heroes tend to become very prideful.
Father never told me much about them. According to Aunt Silfe, heroes are individuals summoned from Earth, the homeworld of humans. These individuals are given powerful abilities that separate the norms like me from them. But rumors I heard said that sometimes they aren't from the same "Earth," whatever that means.
I still feel like my father isn't telling me everything, but it's fair now, I guess. I need to do something about that egg if word gets out about me stealing it. No, no, no. It won't get to that. But the only way I see myself escaping this is to run away.
I can't just run away.