Kundu -

Kundu – Clan of the Dragon Maidens

Gliding on the warm air currents, Nyka followed the river’s meandering course as it cut through the forest. Crisp air, hinting of the coming winter, redolent with the scent of decay and rebirth, parted as she flew, filling her slitted nostrils with information about the forest and its many inhabitants.

Nyka had made similar trips before, usually with others her age for training. But occasionally she flew alone, just for the pleasure and sensation of flight. This time, however, her purpose was serious, the implications severe. Her days of flying alone were almost at an end.

She blinked and closed her inner eyelids, blocking the cold wind. Lowering a wing, she banked along the river’s bend, scanning its wooded banks.

Searching for the one destined to be her rider.

Flying alone was wonderful, but finding a rider, her rider, was the sole reason for her journey away from her mountain home. Since coming of age, Nyka had known the requirement for a rider was the next step. Grown dragons were matched with one rider. It had always been so, and though she loved flying alone, Nyka looked forward to finding her special rider.

A rider was essential. Without one, her ability to fly would fade and ultimately vanish, condemning her to crawl about upon the ground.

To Nyka, flying was freedom. On the ground, her weight slowed her, made her clumsy. In the air, she was quick and agile, a dangerous predator. No bird could out-fly her, and nothing on the ground could outrun her.

She beat her wings once, coasting high above the river. The refreshing breeze felt exhilarating, and her heart lifted.

She preferred flying over walking, but today she had to choose if she wished to continue soaring through the skies. Of course, the choice was hers alone. Some dragons kept their clawed feet firmly planted in the earth. That might be fine for some of them, but not for her. If she could, she would never come down, never need to land, to feel the hard ground beneath her.

It had always been thus—the ancient partnership between the dragons and elves of Kundu. The Collection, the annual act of finding a rider, occurred on the eve of the winter solstice. All dragons who had reached maturity and chose to do so answered the call to collect their rider. This year, six took flight, searching for their elven counterpart.

Collecting a rider was the next step in defining her role among dragon kind.

Nyka knew the Law; if one accepted the calling, the gods bound one she-elf to one dragon. She also knew that each was drawn to the other: the child, unwittingly, through the actions of longstanding traditions ingrained in the elven race. At the same time, an indefinable but irresistible urge she could not ignore compelled the dragon to find and collect her soulmate—her rider.

The gods promised an elven girl-child to her, and Nyka meant to find and collect her.

It could only be a girl child. Only young elven females could bond with dragons. Males were deemed unfit to be riders. Their arrogance conflicted with a dragon’s complicated nature. A dragon’s emotions were unpredictable. It took understanding and compassion to calm them—no simple task for males, but second nature to females.

A shrill cry of panic sounded below, startling Nyka from her reverie.

She dipped a wing, banking toward the cry as three elves emerged from the tree line.

One, a woman, dropped to the ground, crying. “I lost my sister to them,” she screamed, reaching out to a man carrying a small wailing child toward the sheer face of the riverbank. “Please, not my daughter too.”

Could this be what she had come for? Nyka felt unsure; she never had the calling before. Others who paired with their riders did not speak of how it happened for them. They only said, ‘you will know.’

The child’s cries continued as the man tied her wrists to a stone obelisk at the river’s edge before turning and walking away.

Why did he do that? Nyka glided closer. Was this how the collection was done? Do the elves callously discard their girl children? What if she hadn’t been nearby? Wolves lived in the forest. The girl would be easy prey.

Should she intervene?

Could this be the one? No other girl child was nearby. This one must be hers.

The little one struggled with the rope, trying to free herself.

Unsure, Nyka watched. The girl fell back as her restraints broke. She stumbled and went over the ledge. The sound of the elven girl’s desperate cry decided it.

The child bobbed in the water as the river carried her toward the falls, where the merciless rocks awaited.

Nyka had to act.

The girl’s screams faded as the current carried her toward the falls. Nyka folded her wings close to her body and dove. Heart hammering, she focused, searching for any sign of movement.

There. A tiny arm flailed as the river swept the child to the precipice of death.

Beating hard with her wings, Nyka dropped faster, gaining on the young elf child. Then their eyes met, the child stretching out her arms in desperation. In that briefest of moments, less than the blink of an eye, their thoughts transferred — each knowing the other’s — and they bonded.

The child’s name was Liluth, and she was six years old, like Nyka.

Nyka followed her over the lip of the falls and down. She reached for the girl with one claw as they fell into the mist from the crashing water below. Blinded by the spray, she let her senses guide her, knowing they would both be dashed on the rocks if she missed.

Instinct took over, and Nyka closed her talons, feeling the girl’s fragile elven body and her tiny hands squeezing in response. Nyka flared her wings, straining with the effort of pulling up. As she burst clear of the mist, the child safe within her grasp, the chill of the wind rushing across her face felt terrific. She had done it—collected her rider.

She felt the body go limp and glanced at the tiny cargo clasped in her claw. The child was unconscious. Her eyes were shut, but her small fingers still held tight.

Nyka turned to run with the wind. Flapping hard, she winged her way back to her mountain aerie, where her clan waited.

Now, the training would begin. Liluth would learn the ways of the Kundu, and Nyka would be there to help.

But am I ready for the test?

She put that concern out of her mind for now. Only time would tell. But Nyka, at long last, felt a sense of completeness she had never imagined.

* * *

Liluth sat up and rubbed her eyes. She sat on a rough stone floor beneath a high ceiling of rock.

She stood and looked around. “Mama?” she called.

The clipped echo of her voice responded.

The room was mostly empty. Flaming sconces set at intervals along one wall cast wavering yellow light on her and the five other girls in the large space. The five, Liluth guessed, ranged between six and eight years old. They either sat on the floor or stood and, like her, looked around at their surroundings. She saw no grownups.

The space did not resemble the cave her father took her into back home. That one was cold and damp. This place was warm and dry. And much larger than the cramped cave. A passage disappeared into darkness at one end of the cavern—the echoing sound of dripping water came from there. At the other, a wide entrance showed a cloudy sky. No trees blocked the view.

I’m not below ground, she thought.

“Mama, where are you?” she cried out. Tears threatened, but she willed them away.

I’m not a baby. I won’t cry.

She thought one or two other girls were crying. They wandered around, each calling out for a mother or father. Some called out names.

No one answered.

We’re alone. She felt fear wash over her.

Two rows of benches sat beneath the wall sconces. She walked over to the nearest bench, sat, and tried to recall what had happened and how she came to be there.

She gasped as the memory came like a sharp slap. “Papa left me by the river. Why? Why would he do that?”

From somewhere off to her right, a woman’s voice answered. “So you might live another life. One richer and more wonderful than you can imagine.”

Liluth turned as a white-haired woman entered the space through the passageway. She was tall and wore a purple robe cinched at the waist by a gold sash. The other girls quieted. All faced the old woman and waited in silence.

Deep lines etched her cheeks and brow, and when she smiled, the corners of her eyes showed wrinkles, but her eyes shone with vitality. Her smile appeared genuine. Liluth relaxed, her fears oddly calmed.

The woman gestured to the girls. Her voice was deep, with a slight rasp, as if she had a sore throat.

“Come closer, young ladies.”

The girls hesitated, sharing glances between them.

“Have no fear, little ones. You are in no danger here.” She beckoned again. “Come. Sit.” She pointed to the bench where Liluth sat.

One by one, the girls gathered close, sitting together on the bench while the woman waited, her smile never wavering.

Once the girls’ murmuring stopped, the woman nodded, clasping her hands, and scanned the group.

“Now, I know you all have questions,” she said. “I’ve heard them from others like you many times. Once, I was like you are now—scared and confused. I promise, all your questions will be answered in time.” She paused and seemed to collect her thoughts. Then she raised two fingers to her mouth and gave a loud whistle.

Liluth wondered why she did that.

Turning back, the woman said, “My name is Ravanea. I am chief rider and priestess of the Kundu.”

Liluth had no idea what that meant. A sudden sound of wings beating the air drew her attention to the mouth of the cavern. An enormous shape dropped into the opening, blocking the entrance and casting the cavern into semi-darkness, lit by flickering torchlight.

A collective gasp and cries of alarm from the girls rose as a giant beast ducked to crawl through the cramped opening.

Ravanea raised a hand. “Quiet. All of you. Watch.” She turned toward the animal and spread her arms wide.

The dragon, as Liluth recognized it to be from stories her mother told at bedtime, lumbered across the stone floor, holding itself up by a savage-looking curved claw at the midpoint of each leathery wing while its back legs propelled it forward. It grunted as it went, seemingly from the effort of moving its bulk. A blast of exhaled air accompanied each thrust of a wing as it walked.

In the torchlight, the dragon’s scaly hide appeared a dull gray. Its serpentine neck supported a narrow, horned head with golden eyes that seemed to take in everything as it swiveled left and right. It wore a bridle of purple that matched the color of Ravanea’s robe. A long, spiked tail swished across the floor, curling around its flanks as the beast stopped in front of Ravanea. She closed the distance, pressing herself against the dragon’s lowered head. Their foreheads touched, and Liluth knew something with certainty in that intimate moment.

That is her dragon. She is its rider.

The image of the two caused a memory to coalesce in her mind: stumbling, falling into the river, swept away. And the dragon, Nyka, catching her as she went over the falls. She recalled looking into Nyka’s emerald eyes and knowing who and what she was.

She’s my dragon, and I’m her rider.

Ravanea stepped back, her hand tracing along the ridge bone between the dragon’s eyes down to its nostrils. With a bow, the woman turned away and faced the girls.

“Ladies,” she said, extending a hand toward the looming behemoth. “This is Aemmar. We bonded over sixty years past. In time, you too may be as fortunate as I. But first, you must strengthen the bond you have with your dragon. Each of you has met your dragon. Now it is time to build trust. That trust will help you complete your training.”

Ravanea paused, crossing her arms over her chest. “Each of you is meant to become a Dragon Maiden of the Kundu. But hear me. The requirements are difficult. Training is long and demanding. Over the next ten years, some of you will fail. But fear not. You won’t go through training alone. Each of you will have a guide.” She clapped her hands. “Form a line.” She directed the girls to stand beside one another in a row. “It’s time to meet your shepherds.”

Liluth stood between two girls, one older and taller, the other about her height and age.

The taller girl made a face and poked an elbow in Liluth’s side. “Move over. You smell bad.”

Liluth sniffed at her sleeve, smelled nothing bad, and opened her mouth to say so, but Ravanea clapped a second time, pointing back toward the direction she came. Six women, all wearing hooded robes, each a different color, marched into the cavern. Two switched positions as they walked. The procession stopped in front of and faced the row of girls.

Each girl faced one of the robed women. The woman standing before Liluth, wearing a robe of forest green, was one of the two who had changed position while marching in. She had dark hair and eyes that matched the robe’s color. There was something familiar about her face Liluth could not place. A brief smile crossed the woman’s lips but vanished, becoming stern as Ravanea spoke.

“These shepherds will help with your training. I charged them with ensuring you learn your lessons and become capable riders. Listen to them. Follow their orders and instructions. The gods have chosen you to be riders. Now, you must do your part.”

She clapped once more. “Spend the remainder of this day with your shepherd. They will answer your questions. Rest up. Tomorrow, you join your dragons, and your training begins. You are dismissed.”

Ravanea spun, grasped Aemmar’s bridle, and climbed onto the dragon’s back. A quick jerk of the reins and the beast turned its massive bulk around, grunting as it crawled to the cave’s entrance. There, it halted. Ravanea looked back over her shoulder. “Be true,” she said and urged Aemmar to the cavern’s ledge.

The dragon spread its wings, flexed its hind legs, and leaped into the air. One moment it blocked the light; at the next, it dropped from view. The sound of flapping leathery wings grew louder, and then dragon and rider soared past the entrance as they climbed higher before passing out of sight.

A collective gasp from the girls broke the silence. Several began murmuring.

“Silence.” This came from the green-robed shepherd standing before Liluth.

The murmuring stopped.

The woman looked at Liluth. “Come with me, child.” She turned and strode toward the dark passageway without waiting to see if Liluth followed.

Liluth looked left and right as the other pairs moved away. She hurried after the green-robed woman, not wanting to be left alone.

You are not alone, Liluth. I am with you.

Liluth spun, searching for whoever spoke, but no one was there. “Who said that?”

The woman stopped and regarded Liluth. “What did you hear, child?”

“A voice said I am not alone. That it was with me.” She waved an arm in an arc. “But no one is here.”

The woman smiled once more and squatted in front of Liluth. She tapped Liluth’s forehead. “She is here.”

“Who is?” Liluth asked, but she knew, somehow.

“Nyka, of course.” The woman’s words verified what Liluth suspected.

“The dragon?”

“Yes. Dragons talk with their minds, but mostly to their bonded rider only. She is letting you know she is here for you.” She stood. “Now, come along, child. We have much to discuss.”

Liluth considered that for a moment. “Excuse me, ma’am?”

“What is it, child?” The woman didn’t slow or look down at her.

“My name is Liluth, not Child.”

The woman stopped at the mouth of an intersecting passage and gave a curt nod. “You’re a rather impertinent young lady.” She squinted, then nodded. “All right, Liluth it is. My name is Marisel. Now that we have been properly introduced, do you have any more questions for me, or can you wait until we reach our destination?”

Liluth nodded. “Only one… for now.”

“Only one?” The thin line of her mouth twitched as if she were trying to suppress a smile. “Then we should have time. Ask your question.”

“Why?”

Marisel raised an eyebrow. “Why, what? Can you be more specific?”

“Why am I here? Why the other girls? And only girls. Are there no boys?”

“That’s three questions, child, Liluth,” Marisel corrected, but not in a mean tone. “But, as they’re much the same, I will answer.” She took Liluth by the hand. “First, come this way. We were supposed to wait till tomorrow, but perhaps now is more appropriate.”

Marisel guided Liluth into the intersecting passageway. Occasional wall-mounted torches pushed the darkness back enough to see several large spaces carved into the cave wall. Carved into the rock above each was a series of letters. Though only six, Liluth could read some. She thought they might be names.

Liluth did not recognize any of the names until they reached the third recessed space. Chiseled above the entrance was one she knew immediately: Nyka.

Marisel stopped at the entrance to Nyka’s pen. She gestured inside. “This is why you are here, Liluth.”

“I don’t understand.”

“The gods chose you to be a dragon rider, a maiden of the Kundu.”

Liluth furrowed her brow.

Marisel sighed. She sat and beckoned Liluth beside her. “You know of the ancient law regarding the firstborn girl child of elf families?” She continued before Liluth could answer. “After imprisoning the Dragomir daemons a thousand years ago, elves and dragons signed a pact. From that day forward, the firstborn daughter of each family would be given over to the dragons of the Kundu to become riders—dragonkin, maidens of the Kundu.”

Marisel shifted her position before continuing. “Only girl children are suited for bonding with dragons. We are like them, you see.”

“How do you mean?”

“The dragons we ride are all female. Our minds are alike, as are our spirits. Boys are too arrogant to be riders. They want to dominate the dragon rather than work together.”

Liluth considered that a moment, then asked, “Are there no boy dragons?”

“Ah, excellent question. Yes, Liluth, but very few, and none here on the mountain.”

Liluth had many more questions but kept them to herself for now.

I will help you. Together, we can find the answers.

Liluth turned toward the dragon pen’s entrance. She thought the voice came from there. Something large moved about inside the enclosure. A loud exhalation, followed by a warm breeze against Liluth’s face, preceded Nyka’s appearance. High above Liluth’s head, the dragon peered out. Its lambent eyes scanned left and right, then down at Liluth, who stared, awestruck, at the giant animal.

Hello again, Liluth.

Startled by the voice in her head, Liluth sat hard on the stone floor, catching herself by planting her hands behind her. “Umm… hello?”

Nyka’s head emerged fully from the darkened pen and lowered to eye-level with Liluth. Nyka’s head was larger than Liluth’s entire body, but that did not frighten her. Recalling what the priestess Ravanea had done with Aemmar, Liluth held out a hand. Nyka moved closer, enough that Liluth could touch her. She rested her palm against Nyka’s rough facial scales. Nyka closed her eyes and pressed into the touch.

It pleases me to see you again, Liluth.

Liluth tried to think of something to say in response. She sent, I was scared at first, but not now. I’m just confused about why I’m here. Can you tell me?

I can, but that should wait. Will you give us time?

Liluth nodded. She sent, I will. If you promise to tell me the truth.

Always. That is what we dragons do.

They say I’m to be a rider… your rider. Is that right?

If we work very hard. Yes, I hope so. I will do what I can to help.

Liluth felt herself lifted from the floor, breaking her mental connection with Nyka.

Marisel helped Liluth to her feet. “No fear,” she whispered. “Very unusual, but promising.”

“Huh, what?” Liluth asked, looking up to find Marisel staring down at her.

Marisel shook her head. “Nothing. Just talking to myself.”

The dragon raised its head and turned its eyes on Marisel. And Liluth had the feeling some communication transpired between the dragon and Marisel—one she could not hear. A moment later, Nyka withdrew into her pen, and Marisel reached for Liluth’s hand.

“Enough excitement for today. Come, let me show you to your room. Things will be much more demanding tomorrow.”

Marisel led Liluth along a confusing route, with many turns onto smaller and smaller passageways, until Liluth felt utterly lost and the beginnings of fear crept up on her.

“Marisel, how will I ever find my way back?” Liluth glanced all around, trying to get her bearings. “Is it much further?”

Marisel gave another of her kind smiles, though Liluth thought it failed to reach her eyes. “You’ll have an escort until you learn the mountain’s corridor system.” Then she leveled a finger at Liluth, and the smile dropped away. “You would do well to learn your way around. The quicker you learn, the better. There are spaces here where no child should venture. Learn those as well.”

Marisel stopped at a small ironwood door set into the corridor’s wall. Burned into the door’s crossbeam was, Liluth, Yr. 1. Marisel pushed the door open and stepped aside. “This is your room.”

Liluth took a deep breath and entered. She didn’t know what to expect but exhaled with relief at the room’s clean furnishings. A small bed, nightstand with a candlestick, and desk and chair were the only items aside from the lighted wall sconces, burning with a warm yellow glow on each side wall. There was no window. Nevertheless, she felt a soft breeze against her cheek. She looked up and found a small, circular opening in the ceiling, the fresh air filtering down. She considered asking how it worked, but Marisel spoke.

“You should be comfortable here. Get some rest.” She moved to the door. “As I said, tomorrow will be demanding. You will break your fast at dawn. Your escort will fetch you soon after. Don’t be late. You will be punished for any tardiness.” With that, she pulled the door closed behind her, leaving Liluth alone, standing in the center of her tiny bedroom.

Liluth stared at the door for a long moment, trying to understand all that happened since her father carried her to the river’s edge. She sat on the bed, hands folded in her lap, and felt tears well up.

Don’t cry, she told herself. She bit her lip, hoping the pain would forestall the tears. Instead, it unleashed the first of many. Liluth gave in and wept. She curled up on her bed and sobbed. She wanted her mother, missed her little brother, and was angry at her father. She was scared and alone.

The only good thing was Nyka. Liluth reached out to the dragon with her mind and was comforted when Nyka’s voice spoke.

Do not be afraid. Sleep now. Tomorrow we will be together, and all will be well.

Liluth pulled the bed’s coverlet over her, wiped her eyes, and let sleep take her.

* * *

The sound of someone pounding on the door pulled Liluth awake. She tossed the coverlet aside and sat, still fully dressed. She padded across to the door and swung it open. A gray-haired woman with a bent back held a tray in one hand. In the other, she clutched a walking stick on which she leaned.

“Good morn, Liluth.” She held out the tray. “Your morning meal.”

Liluth accepted the tray. A piece of bread, a hunk of cheese, and several pieces of fruit were on it—also a small pitcher and cup.

“Thank you.” Liluth stepped back and held the door. “What is your name?”

The woman looked at her with rheumy eyes and gave a nearly toothless smile. “I’m Agatha.” She pointed at the tray. “Eat quick. Your escort will be by shortly and will not wait for you. Leave the tray there,” she nodded toward the floor beside the doorway. “I’ll collect it later.”

“Thank you. I will.”

“Be true. Work hard.” Agatha turned and left, the sound of her walking stick tapping the stone floor fading as she rounded a corner.

Liluth shut the door and sat at her table. The food and drink were tasty and satisfying. She had barely finished eating when a single rap on her door alerted her. Opening the door, she looked up into the scarred face of a one-eyed woman. Patches of hair were missing on that side of her head. The rest was dark, with streaks of gray that fell to her shoulders.

She’s been burned, Liluth thought. But by what?

Thinking about it, she wasn’t sure she wanted to know.

“Time to go,” the scarred woman said. She walked on without waiting. “Come along.”

Liluth took a step to follow but remembered the tray. She returned, gathered the pitcher and cup with the tray, and set them on the floor in the corridor. She closed her door and turned in time to watch her escort round the corner.

“Wait, I’m coming.” Liluth ran to catch up. By the time she reached the turn, the escort was nowhere to be seen. Liluth stopped and covered her mouth. “Where are you?”

She ran along the corridor but did not see the scarred woman anywhere. “Hello?”

She turned down passages and corridors, running madly, calling for the escort at each side corridor. Before long, she was panting, sweating, and on the verge of tears.

Liluth stopped. She turned slowly in a circle and realized she was hopelessly lost. Frustrated, she plopped on the floor.

What am I to do? She wondered.

Listen to me, Liluth, and follow my instructions.

Nyka? Liluth stood. Can you help me?

Yes. I know where you are. Go back to your left and turn right at the next corridor.

Liluth followed the mental guidance offered by Nyka. Before long, she heard other girls talking and increased her pace. Nyka gave one last direction, and Liluth emerged into the central corridor twenty paces behind the scarred woman and the five other girls. She caught up to them and told Nyka thanks.

Today will be hard for you. Be strong, and don’t despair. We will be true.

Liluth lined up behind the tall girl who elbowed her and told her she smelled bad.

The girl looked back and sneered. “Well, look who finally made it. The smelly one.”

“I don’t smell bad. Don’t be mean.”

The girl shoved Liluth, making her stumble. “Don’t walk so close. You make the air stink.”

“Stop it.” Liluth gained her feet but kept out of arm’s reach of the mean girl.

The short procession emerged at the same large cavern where Liluth found herself yesterday. Today, however, it was not empty. Lined up across the main entrance were six dragons, each much smaller than Aemmar. Standing in front of each was a shepherd. Each dragon wore a colored bridle matching that of the shepherd’s robe.

Third from the left, Nyka wore the green bridle matching Marisel’s robe.

The girls marched to stand before their respective shepherds.

Marisel held a smaller robe of the same color. She passed it to Liluth. “Put this on. Now.”

Liluth slipped the robe on, inhaling its fresh scent and marveling at the soft feel of the fabric.

Marisel said, “We give each pairing a name at the onset of training. Yours is Emerald. In the past, emerald teams were renowned for their superior flying skills and aggression. You will exceed them all. I’ll make sure of it.” She handed Liluth Nyka’s reins. “Take control of your dragon. Training begins now.”