The Dragon Rider

There weren’t always dragons in the Valley. The story of how they came to be there is unbelievable, but I promise you that every detail I am writing is true. It all happened. I am writing this under a fake name for very obvious reasons, but I need to write it. The truth needs to be told. The world needs to know how dragons returned. But most importantly, I am hoping that this tale will help the world understand why I did what I had to do. My life and the lives of everyone who lives in The Valley will never be the same, and it is all my fault.

Before living here, my mom, my brother and I all lived in a tiny, one-bedroom cottage in a village called Yenwood. We come from a long line of ancient magical creatures called Peackers. Peackers are usually born with some magical ability but not as much as wizards. However, because we have some, we are still governed by the High Wizard council – a group of the eldest and wisest wizards that create and enforce magical law. Peackers magical abilities manifest with a specialty around the age of 65. Now that might sound like late in life for most species, but for Peackers, we tend to live to be nearly 1,000 years old.

My mother is a 632-year-old witch with a specialty in healing magic called Nikiv. In other words, people usually seek her out and pay her absurd amounts of gold to work for them or be present in their castles. We have lived in at least four different Lord’s castles’ that I can remember. My brother, however, is a 325-year-old wizard with a specialty in fire magic (that he decided to teach himself about at a young age) who goes by the name of Firebolt. His real name is Trevelo but apparently that wasn’t “powerful enough” for him. Trevelo is also a bit, uh, how should I put this? He likes the simple pleasures of life and takes them even when they are not his to take. Which is why we moved from a Lord’s castle to a tiny cottage in Yenwood. He was caught in the Lord’s bedroom with the Lord’s golden dragon egg (and the Lord’s daughter). The Lord threatened to report us to the council of High Wizards unless we left immediately and went into hiding. My mother was not one to argue, so we left and moved to Yenwood.

That just leaves me. A 227-year-old with no magic abilities. My name is Narthick. I was born with no hint of magic in me and at the age of 65, no powers or specialties revealed themselves. Mother has no idea why I have no magical abilities and neither do I. I have done extensive research on the subject. Every book I looked in had no answers. I sent ravens to the High Wizards council and even they have never heard of something like this happening before. Like ever. I am the first Peacker in history to have no magic powers.

Hooray.

Anyway, after living in Yenwood for about 2 years, a raven arrived with a note for Mother. I know you are probably thinking, “If they are in hiding, how did a Raven find them?” I asked Mother that same question when the first raven arrived only a few days after we settled in. Her response was simple, “Ravens are the most magical creatures in our land. They are directly descended from dragons.” Typical old witch answer, made absolutely no sense but sounded witchy enough that it could actually mean something.

Now normally we would have ignored this request just like we had ignored the last twelve we received, but this one was different. The leader of a village called Yellaveht, Zachariah, addressed Mother with a familiarity that could only come from a very old friend. Mother explained that she knew Zachariah when she was a child. They studied at the same witch academy. Zachariah even followed in Mother’s footsteps and chose to specialize in healing magic. Which made this request even more odd. Mother decided the situation must be dire if Zachariah could not handle the situation by himself, so we quickly packed our things and headed out. It was an easy journey because of Mother’s healing abilities. We did not have to worry about Goblin attacks or fairy bites. Although once, Firebolt got bit by a fairy and almost floated away when we were sleeping. I woke up laughing and then proceeded to help Mother pull him down and held him down while she healed him. After that, the journey was highly uneventful. Until we finally arrived in “The Valley”.

The Valley was the name locals had given this place. The real name was Yellaveht but that is a nightmare to pronounce, so someone came up with The Vallley. It isn’t a clever nickname or anything. It is just Yellaveht backwards. The Valley was a larger village than most I had ever seen or lived in. Zachariah had the biggest dwelling in the village by far. It was roughly the size of 100 elephants all standing in a ten by ten square. To give you a comparison, the cottage we live in is probably the size of four elephants standing in a group.

The northern corner held a bed big enough for me and Firebolt to share. Luckily we were both rather small for our age so we fit without falling off. The eastern corner was Mother’s corner of the hut. The only thing in that corner was a smaller bed that she curled up on whenever she was finally calm enough to get some sleep. Most nights though, she would stay awake to make sure we hadn’t been found by anyone looking to hurt us.

The southern corner was the small kitchen that we used to prepare any meals. Mother didn’t cook much because she thrives off of eating raw plants. Gross. The cooking I left up to Firebolt because he couldn’t burn himself. I excelled in burning myself.

Lastly, the eastern corner was a small writing desk and a stump that I used as a stool. Without having any magical talent, I decided from a young age that I would do my best to learn everything I could. Learning would be my specialty. I knew almost everything about the history of my kind, as well as the history of the Goblins and the Riders (as in Dragon Riders). Riders have been extinct for just as long as Dragons have been extinct.

Riders and Dragons had a symbiotic relationship. When a rider was born, somewhere in the world a dragon was hatched. Upon maturing, both the rider and the dragon would leave their homes in search of each other; they were drawn to each other as if being pushed together by an invisible force. When they found each other, the dragon would breathe fire on the rider. If the flame did not hurt the rider, the bond would be solidified forever.

These were the kinds of things that fascinated me. Different races and species all coexisting in history. Times were so different back then. But once the dragons all died off, and the riders with them, the Goblins came to rule. They decided that because they were now the strongest race, they would make the laws of the land that everyone would have to follow. Anyone who disagreed either rebelled (and got killed) or went into the dense forest of Mirthal, to live off the land.

And that was it. That was the little corner of the world that I lived in. I was happy being a nobody. I had grown used to not having any magical ability and being a freak to everyone but my family.

Then one day, my life was changed forever. I was awakened by Mother violently shaking me and Firebolt yelling at me, threatening to light my hair on fire. He often did this just to prove that he could. Brotherly teasing Mother would call it when I complained. I jumped out of bed to avoid another having yet another bald spot on my head and saw Mother holding a letter addressed to me. It was a response to a letter that I had sent years ago to an ancient Goblin named Gortall. Gortall was old enough to have lived back when dragons fly frequently. I found him in an old Goblin genealogy book I studied for years in search of answers. When I decided to write to him, I asked a few simple questions.

1. How magnificent were the dragons?

2. Had he ever been close enough to touch one?

3. And of course, had he ever heard of a Peacker born with no magical talent to a Mother like mine with extreme talent?

I grabbed the letter out of Mother’s hands and ran outside, wanting to read the letter in private. I didn’t want Mother or Firebolt to know, but if Gortall had never heard of someone like me I would be devastated. He was my last hope.

I ran to my favorite tree in our yard and climbed up it in a matter of seconds, perching myself on a branch about 15 feet in the air. This was it. The moment I had never thought would happen. I opened the letter and read it slowly. Once I finished it, I nearly fell out of the tree. That was the moment that the course of my life changed. The letter read:

“Greetings young Peacker, it is very nice to meet you. I must say I was surprised to get a letter from a raven. Nobody writes to me anymore. By the state of the parchment when I received it, your raven has been searching for me for a very long time. So to end your suspense, I will keep this brief. The dragons were the most beautiful creatures I have ever laid eyes on. I was never lucky enough or brave enough to get close enough to touch one, but I always wanted to. And on to your last question.

“I have in fact heard of Peackers being born without any magical abilities, but it has not happened in centuries. The only explanation of why a Peacker is born without any magical ability, is because they are not meant to be a Peacker. They have been chosen to be a Rider.”