The Last of the Dragon Riders: Chapter 1

Chapter 1:

Autumn

            
The noon sun shone high in the sky, beating down on the tiny village that sprawled up against the great forest.  The heat of the day had driven the villagers inside, seeking relief from the burning rays of the sun.  Well, almost all the villagers.  In the meadow overlooking the village, a lone figure lay stretched out in the grass, soaking in the warmth, savoring the feeling of the sun’s rays on her face.  Autumn stretched out her long legs, enjoying one of the last warm days of the year.  Though the heat made it difficult to believe, winter was fast approaching and it wouldn’t be long before the cold took over.

Autumn opened her eyes and looked up at the sky.  It was an impossible shade of blue today without a single cloud to mar its beauty.  She sighed with contentment.  She loved moments like this when all was still and silent.  Everything seemed so much sharper and clearer during those moments:  the air tasted sweeter, the grass was greener, the ground softer.  A dog barked in the distance, breaking the spell.  Autumn sighed.  Those moments happened far too infrequently in her opinion and to have it disturbed by a dog.  She grumbled slightly as she got to her feet and began dusting off her dress.  The trees rustled as the wind raced through their leaves.  Autumn’s long red hair danced around her face as the wind caught at it.  She smiled.  This wind was playful, mischievous, not cold and cruel like the winds that often blew down from the mountains through the tiny village she called home.

Autumn brushed her hair back from her face as she looked down at her home.  The meadow on Sentinel’s Hill as it was called, due to the fact that it rose high above the valley and gave a good view of the road and the village, was one of her favorite places to escape to.   The valley spread out below her, half open fields and plains, half dense forest.  The road ran like a golden river before her through the valley all the way to Kalang Mountains, far in the distance.  To her right, the road ran past the village and the hill to a narrow pass between Mount Bakarm and Mount Siftan.  From there the road met the Maikan River and followed it all the way down to the sea.

The valley was surrounded by towering mountains and Autumn often felt like she was trapped in a cage, a very nice cage to be sure, but a cage nonetheless.  She knew she should be more grateful.  As the village women constantly reminded her, she was lucky to live in a part of Issilian where the land was so fertile and there was so little violence.  The villagers always had plenty to eat and while they were not rich, they were not destitute either.  The women and children farmed the land while the men hunted in the forest and fished in the river that ran down from the mountains past the village.  It was a good life, but not one that Autumn wanted to live forever.

Her dream was to be a Dragon Rider.  Though the Riders had disappeared nearly two hundred years ago without a trace and many believed them to be extinct, Autumn had never stopped believing in them.  The only dragons and riders to be seen anymore were those of the enemy, but even they were a rare sight anymore and certainly not in so remote an area as the valley.  Still there were rumors of a prophecy that foretold the rise of the Dragon Riders once again.  The full prophecy was unknown but the scholars, the most learned men and women of Issilian, had managed to piece together the fragments that were known.  From what they could understand, the hope of the Dragon Riders rested on four young people who would be driven from their homes, who would lose all that they loved, and once they had been broken, the light would lead them to the ones of old and somehow these four would form a circle and with their power would restore the Riders to their former glory.  The scholars had hidden this information, not wishing to stir up hope for events that might never come to pass.  Even so, bits and pieces had become known and it had become common knowledge throughout the land that the Dragon Riders were destined to return.

Autumn shook her head to clear her thoughts as the wind died down.  Quickly gathering her hair into a knot at the base of her neck, she began to slowly walk down the hill towards the village.  Once the worst of the heat was gone, it would be time to get back to work harvesting the fields, packaging and preserving most of the food for the winter, and preparing the rest to be taken to Calom, the nearest major coastal city, where they could sell their harvest and buy the items that they could not make or get from any of the other surrounding villages.

She paused about halfway down the hill, shading her eyes against the brightness of the sun.   Was that dust rising in the distance from the road?  It was!  A large flock of birds rose from the trees along the road, hurrying away from whatever had disturbed them.  Whatever or whoever was coming, they were moving fast.  Autumn raced down the hill, stumbling once or twice but somehow managing to keep herself from falling.  She stopped momentarily at the bottom to catch her breath, then ran towards the center of the town.  A large drum stood proudly there, used to gather the villagers when necessary and to warn of danger.  The village drummer was the only one who was allowed to beat the drum unless there was an emergency which this qualified as.  Autumn picked up the beautifully carved branch used to sound the drum and using both hands began to beat out the warning signal.

The response was immediate.  Villagers flooded out of their homes, running towards the village square.  The master of the village came up to Autumn just as she stepped away from the drum.

“What is it?  What’s happening?” he demanded, worry etched across his face.

“There’s something on the road heading this way fast,” Autumn explained quickly.

“Could you see what was coming at all?” he questioned her.

“No, sir, I was up on the Sentinel’s Hill but the trees blocked the road completely.  All I could see was the dust cloud,” she answered.

The villagers’ agitated murmurs made Autumn feel more on edge than she already did.  No wagon trains or other travelers were expected and the fact that whatever was coming was coming fast put them all on high alert.  Whatever it was, it did not bode well for any of them.  All eyes were on the master as he stood quietly, pondering the information he had been given.

“What do you want us to do, Master Ricard?  Do we prepare to fight?” one of the men asked.

Master Ricard looked over the people before turning to the man who had spoken.  “I want all of our able-bodied men to be prepared to fight if necessary, Leeson, if you could please supervise that.  All those unable to fight will gather in the houses farthest from the road with the doors and windows bolted shut.  Once the men are armed I want those with bows and arrows and throwing spears to move into the trees and remain hidden there in case we do need to fight.  I also want a few to remain back near the houses with the women and children.  The rest will stay here in the square to greet whoever is coming.”  The man paused before addressing the villagers directly.  “I ask that you all move quickly and quietly.  We don’t know that this will be an enemy that we will have to fight, but I would rather be cautious than careless and risk anyone getting hurt unnecessarily.  You all have your tasks, now go!”

The meeting broke up quickly.  The older women along with several of the younger women began herding the children and elderly towards the houses the master had indicated.  The men began gathering their weapons, mostly spears and bows and arrows though a few men had old swords that could still be used, and reported to Leeson who quickly dispatched them to their allotted places.  Autumn turned to follow the women but was stopped as the master put a hand on her shoulder.

“Autumn, I have a special task for you, if you will accept it,” he said quietly.

“Of course, sir,” she replied without hesitation.  She trusted this man with all her heart and she would do anything she could to help her people.

“I fear that whatever is coming is a threat to us all,” he whispered.  “We are not a warlike people and if it comes down to a fight, I don’t know how long we will last.  You are our fastest rider, Autumn.  I want you to take Nightwing and go back up to the meadow.  I want you to stay out of sight and keep watch.  If things go badly here, I want you to ride, Autumn, ride to the next village and warn them.  Will you do this?”

As Autumn struggled to find her voice to respond, she realized that she was shivering despite the warmth of the day.  She had never heard the master say he was afraid of anything, yet as she looked into his eyes, so full of wisdom and kindness, she could see the fear in them, the fear that something was coming to harm his people and all that they held dear.

“Yes, master,” she managed to choke out at last, “I will do as you ask.”

He smiled at her gently as he gave her shoulder a comforting squeeze.   “Then go, child, quickly!”

Autumn spun around and sprinted for the stables, dodging past the men hurrying to gather their weapons and get to their respective posts.  As she entered the stables she was greeted by the nickers of the horses.  She quickly gathered the tack she would need and made her way to the last stall.  Inside, Nightwing, the pride of the village, stood quietly, ears pricked forward at the sounds coming from outside.  Standing at just over six and a half feet, he was the tallest horse by far in the village and despite his size, he was also the fastest.  Autumn slipped into his stall and reaching up, secured a rope to the soft leather harness.  She led him over to a sturdy block of wood and began the difficult task of saddling the massive horse.

It took her longer than she would have liked but eventually she had him saddled and bridled.  Using the block of wood again, she swung herself up into the saddle.  The horse stamped his hooves slightly, impatient to go, but quickly quieted down under Autumn’s experienced touch.  With a light tap of her heels, she urged him into a fast walk.  Master Ricard met her outside the stables.

“You must hurry, child, they will be here any minute now,” he told her, glancing anxiously over his shoulder at the road.  “Here take this with you, to defend yourself if you must.”  Autumn hesitated to take the dagger he offered her.  She had no fighting experience, the dagger would be useless to her.  The old man seemed to read her thoughts.  “I know you don’t know how to wield a weapon, but it will be better than nothing.  Take it, Autumn.” 

She hesitated a moment more before reaching down and taking the weapon.  She held the dagger gingerly unsure what to do with it before slowly sliding it into her boot.  “Take care, sir,” she said, reaching out her hand to the man who had known her and watched over her since her birth.  He grasped her hand momentarily as he smiled up at her proudly.  When had the little girl grown into such a strong, beautiful woman?  “May our Father be with you always, my child, and do not forget that everything that happens is part of His great plan,” he said quietly.

Autumn nodded as she looked into his eyes and fought to hold back her tears.  She straightened in the saddle as she gathered the reigns and dug her heels into the horse’s sides.  Nightwing leaped forward eagerly, charging out of the village before Autumn reigned him in.  He huffed slightly, disappointed at not being able to run full speed, but obeyed, cantering quickly out of the village and up the hill.

The master watched her go, unshed tears filling his own eyes.  “Lord, keep her safe,” he whispered before turning and hurrying back to the village square.

Nightwing’s long strides seemed to eat up the ground and within moments they were at the top of the hill.  Autumn guided him to the edge of the forest, out of sight of the village.  She dismounted quickly, pausing only to loosely secure the reigns to one of the trees.  She ran back to edge of the meadow where she could see the village and lay down flat, hiding herself in the tall grass.  The dust cloud had nearly reached the village.  Though the trees were no longer in the way, the dust filled the air to such an extent as to completely obscure what was coming.  Everything was quiet in the village.  She could see the men standing motionless in the square, prepared to fight if necessary.  Autumn shivered again.  It felt as though a cold hand was gripping her heart.

The minutes passing seemed like hours, yet all too soon the dust cloud stopped at the far edge of the village.  As the dust slowly cleared, she saw that at its center was a large company of horsemen.  Autumn blinked as the sun flashed off of something in their midst.  She gasped as the last of the dust cleared and she got her first good look at the intruders.  Soldiers!  Armor, swords, and spearheads caught the light of the sun as the men moved.  Autumn studied them fearfully.  Never before in all her twenty years had soldiers ever visited the village.  Her fear continued to grow as she noticed that everything about them was black from their armor to their horses.  Autumn searched for any signs that might tell whom they served, but found none.  They carried no banner and their armor and horses bore no marks.  Her eyes were drawn to center of the company as one of the soldiers dismounted.  He was dressed slightly differently from the others, a long black cloak was draped about his shoulders and the horsehair plume on his helmet was longer than the others, flowing down his back.  He must be a captain or some kind of leader, Autumn thought as she watched.

The man removed his helmet as he walked to the center of the village square where the master and several villagers were standing, but he was too far away for Autumn to get a good look at his face.  He spoke to the men for several minutes occasionally gesturing at the village or the forest.  Although Autumn couldn’t hear what was said, she could tell that whatever it was, it was not good news.  She watched as the master emphatically shook his head and then made a gesture for the soldier and the company to leave.  The man said something else then gestured for two of his men to join him.  One of them brought a scroll that the man handed to the master.  There were several moments of silence as the master and the villagers with him read the message on the scroll.  As they finished reading, the master rolled up the scroll and shook it in the soldier’s face before throwing it on the ground.  The soldier, clearly not liking what he was hearing, drew his sword and pointed it at the old man.

Autumn gasped, half rising from the ground, before she stopped and forced herself to lie down again.  She bit her lip hard, riveted by the scene playing out below her, not even noticing when she drew blood.  She watched as the master said something, again gesturing for the soldier and his men to leave.  The two men stood eyeing each other for a moment before the soldier seemed to back down.  Autumn sighed in relief as he gestured to his men and half-turned as if to leave.  The next second though she clapped her hands over her mouth to hold back the scream of horror that threatened to break loose as the soldier spun around and plunged his sword into the old man’s heart.  The village men stepped back in shock as the body of the master crumpled to the ground but fury quickly took over them as they threw themselves at the soldier, screaming and yelling their pain and defiance.  The men hidden in the trees took up the cry as they began shooting arrows at the soldiers.  Autumn watched in helpless disbelief as the soldiers dismounted and rushed to their leader’s side, swiftly beating back the villagers.  Several charged into the woods, the arrows doing little damage to their armor.

Tears of rage and pain ran down Autumn’s face as she watched the soldiers killing the village men who stood so little chance against them with their inexperience in the art of war.  The soldiers quickly began to search the homes and it wasn’t long before they discovered the rest of the villagers.  Autumn turned and ran back to Nightwing as the soldiers began to massacre the innocent villagers and set fire to their homes.  She sobbed brokenly as she clawed her way up the horse’s back into the saddle.  She sat for a moment, her whole body rigid as an internal battle raged within her:  to turn back and attack the soldiers who were even now destroying her home or to obey the master’s last order and ride to warn the nearest village.  As she struggled to decide, an image of the master, lying dead at the center of his beloved village, flashed through her mind.

Autumn choked back another scream as turned Nightwing's head towards the nearest village and urged him into a gallop.  Her tears blinded her as she rode away, leaving behind her the only home she had ever known, now destroyed by the evil of others.

The soldier sat tall and proud on his horse, watching the little village burn.  They had been unable to locate the girl again, yet he knew that she was in one of the villages in the valley.  He turned his horse and spurred it forward as the other soldiers fell in behind him.  He would find her.  He would not fail.

The sound of the horses' hooves slowly faded into silence until all that could be heard was the crackling of the flames that ran through the village, devouring everything in its path.  The fire cast an orange glow on the side of Sentinel’s Hill as the sun slowly set, dying the sky as red as the blood that stained the ground of the little village.