Book 1: Bonded Spirit

Chapter 1

You have got to be kidding me!

Glaring at the parchment tacked on the wall, my face flushed reading the words—Seeking a fun night out: Try this! My mouth hung open in shock as I stared at the diagram. It not only showed directions to my room, but a lists of options! That was too much. I palmed the wall hard; tearing the parchment away, I stormed towards the north hall.

How dare he! I growled, and clenched my fist in determination.

Turning sharp at the end of the hall, I skidded to a halt by several students. Surprise showed, followed quickly by smirks and eye rolls. I pushed past them with little care. I was too focused, irritated, and pissed off. For two months now I wanted to do this. I had always held back, but not today—no. This was too much. This was the last time.

My lip twitched with unheard insults as anger boiled. The north tower was in my sights. I shoved the twin doors open, glaring through the pitted shadows of half torch lights. Several students were on their feet, ready for the fight. I narrowed my eyes on the three boys sitting by the fireplace.

What is the meaning of this? I yelled, too angry to keep my voice down, I marched toward him.

Oh, said Bronson slowly rising to his feet. His teasing blue eyes held with mine, lifting his chin smugly as he held his hands out in protest. Well, thought it might cheer you up over the summer holidays.

You’re a real piece of shit!

"Oh, come now. That’s not what you said a few weeks ago. Isn’t that right boys?’ He turned his gaze to the others sitting at the lounge. They nodded and smiled. Their laughter mimicked his.

Thrusting a fistful of parchments into his view, I hissed through clenched teeth, How dare you write this about me! You dare say these things.

Relax, Rehema. Just a harmless Joke—

Harmless joke! I snapped. This is downright bullshit! How dare you treat me like a whore in front of the whole school. You’re worse than delgori breath. Why would you do this to me?

Oh, it’s not that bad. He flicked his sand blond hair from his brow as his lazy blue eyes scanned me over, taking in my anger with nothing but a teasing smile. Besides, we all know how fast you were to get me and Edric into the bedroom.

"I did no such thing." My face flushed.

I glanced at Edric. His eyes dropped in shame. He was no different than Bronson.

I balled my fist tighter, taking a step closer. You lying piece of shit! Seeing him flinch by the smallest fraction gave me some reprieve. Why do you keep doing this to me? That is not what happened and you know it. This— I waved the fake notice in his face— "Is going to be the last time. I want those parchments back NOW!"

No.

His smugness infuriated me.

I clenched my teeth, and glared at him, hard. He was only an inch taller than me. You will give me those letters. Now! Or I will kick your ass. Venom laced my voice. The threat was well acknowledged. Problem was, I sucked at kicking anything.

His smirk was too coy. He rolled his eyes to show he wasn’t threatened. I’ll tell you what, Rehema. He folded his arms casually over his chest. Since you want them so much, I’ll trade you for them. His eyes narrowed in taunting.

My anger simmered with the voice of reason, screaming to calm down, to walk away, and to let it be. No. Not anymore.

I won’t trade a thing with you Bronson. You’re a creep!

Me? No. You—you’re a fox.

I pressed my lips together, hating his comment in front of so many people. He winked, tilting his head a little bit. The small look of an apology lingered.

No way. He was not sorry for this. I will not fall for his tricks again.

Give me my letters, I repeated.

"Sure. For a small price."

I should not be tempted, and the small voice in my head told me not to participate in anything Bronson had to offer. Just one more chance. I rolled my eyes, irritated. What small price?

He licked his lips. A kiss. And his pupils dilated with excitement.

I gagged inward at his request, shuddering and avoiding the bile that rose in my throat. It was foolish to think anything he offered was a good solution.

The voice in my head and I both agreed simultaneously.

What a jerk!

You will get nothing from me you creep! I growled. I don’t even know why I bothered.

Well, you did. And this is what you get when you play with Bronson. He straightened his shoulders, showing off his boyish charms.

I shook my head in disgust. Why can’t you leave me alone? In case you didn’t get the message. This thing we had, is over. Has been now for three months. Your stupid half ass crush on me is pathetic. You’re a shit Ryder. You’re a shit talker and you’re too crap in the bedroom to know which way was the right way. You’re an ass. My words were truth.

The flicker of remorse crossed his features, with a hue of red staining his cheeks.

Finally, I got through to him.

He composed himself with a smug smile and a shrug—just like every other time.

Oh. I got the message. It’s you who keeps hounding me. See— He pointed to the parchment.

I knew it was a load of crap. Lies, letters, and a list of things I once wanted with him. Once—being an extremely small gap in my head, was now completely empty of anything I wanted with him.

Get over yourself, Bronson, I snapped. You’re a Jerk. Give me the letters. Now!

Or what? He folded his arms on his chest.

I smiled sweetly, with a wicked wink to match. Bronson’s face paled. His blue eyes bulged. I turned swiftly, with a deliberate flick of my brown curls over my shoulder and left the lounge area. Oh, so many people. When did they get here? I kept walking towards the sleeping quarters.

You’re not allowed down there, he called after me.

Oh, but I want to see your room again. You know how I missed it last time—the whole two minutes I was in there, I mocked.

Laughter broke out with sniggers and whispers of my words passed around to the other boys in the hall.

Within moments of entering his room, I pulled open drawers, and tossed them aside when I found no parchment. I flung garments on the floor and reached for another drawer.

Get out of my room. NOW! Anger laced his voice. His face blotched with crimson as he stood in the doorway, his cool calm demeanour melted away as a rage boiled to the surface.

Uh-oh.

Not until I get the rest of those parchments. I ruffled the third drawer, tossing his books off the bench and rifling through countless papers in my view—not what I needed though. A searing heat touched my skin, as a flame shot past me by mere inches and blasted into the wall. I jumped back in shock.

You dare use magic on me?

I told you to leave. His face twisted with anger as his left palm held another mânã ball of fire ready for attack.

Oh. And I haven’t even been in here for thirty seconds this time. I smiled sweetly, toying with him for a split second before the flame spiralled towards me.

Crap.

I shot out my left hand—I know I shouldn’t have encouraged this fight, and I wasn’t especially good at magic to start with—but I had to defend myself.

Water and air collided into a spiral of ice-liquid, knocking him to the floor, and suffocating his flame instantly. He scrambled to his feet, gasping at the attack. I was pleased with my magic that helped out when I least expected it to. I couldn’t keep my smile for long. Another flame streaked towards me, twisted in fury as his attack held more direction for my chest than necessary. I rolled away from the flame.

Get. Out! He shouted. Get out of my room—

I dived from another attack, landing on the opposite side of the bed. I took a side step from another assault, stumbling to get my footing right. I want those parchments NOW!

I blocked another fire ball with my left palm held towards him. My anger and rage surfaced, reminding me of a blaze inside my body, but it was magic, tingling, leaking, and releasing from my palm.

It wasn’t what I was expecting either.

Not Water, Fire, Air, or even Earth. Maybe it was Air—

He dropped to his knees as the magic spilled into him. He heaved in lung-fulls of air. His eyes shifted, the blood vessels changed from red to black veins, creeping over his eyeballs, completely covering the iris and spilling on to his skin. Stunned, I dropped my hand in fright. His body crumbled to the floor, hard with deep breaths as he coughed violently.

Where are they? My voice betrayed the shock as I trembled with disbelief. I clenched my fist to hide my fear.

Bronson raised a weak hand, pointing to his bed. Taking in the brown trunk, hidden under the frame, I flipped the latches and there on top of the pile lay the parchments of my long forgotten love letters, or rather my wishful thinking letters.

What a cheesy bastard!

Stuffing the parchments into my pocket, I gloated on my win. Don’t hound me again, Bronson. You’re a jerk and you will always be one.

He shot to his feet, water dripping from his brow, his blue eyes glared with fiery anger.

Startled. I pressed my palms to his chest and shoved him hard into the wall. His body jolted awkwardly—something cracked.

Oh, no.

Miss Thorndale! What is the meaning of this?

Too late to realise, I’d been played, yet again.

Salvador Baldwin glared at me.

Great—just what I need.

It’s nothing, Master Salvador, I said innocently. He frightened me is all.

He did no such thing, said the Master. A tall man, thin by my standards, with a slender face. His pure white hair hung past his shoulders, cowering from his piercing blue eyes which burned into me. The wheezed cough from Bronson had him break the hard gaze.

She attacked me for no reason, Sir. Bronson shuffled his feet, faking the pain in his side and hand, holding it to his chest as if broken.

Maybe I did do damage?

In moments, Master Salvador was at Bronson’s side, assessing the damage.

When Salvador wasn’t looking, Bronson winked over to me, and then winced for extra attention, hissing to add emphasis on the pain. I narrowed my eyes. I knew this would happen.

He is such a brat.

Bronson was the son everyone loved and everyone wanted to help no matter what. I was not one of these people. I could see straight through his phoney bullshit to the third moon of Dangora.

I want you to go straight to the infirmary Mr. Creet. And as for you Miss Thorndale. You will go to the headmistress office right this minute.

I didn’t mean it on purpose, I mumbled.

"I saw you purposely push Mr. Creet into the wall. And look at this room. Is this all your doing as well?" He glared at the state of the room.

Burn marks simmered with swirls of smoke, water soaked the rug and clothes that were crumbled on floor and bed.

I grimaced. My anger was pretty much soaked up once Salvador busted me.

Bu—

And you have witnesses too. His brow rose with assumption. Did anyone here see what happened?

In a heartbeat, the other students jumped to Bronson’s defence. I was the one who destroyed his room, I was the one who tossed his books and clothes around, and I even used magic on him.

The thin man’s face paled with a greying if that was even possible. It might have been the dull light. I didn’t get a chance to defend myself. Forcefully pulled from the room and marched straight to the headmistress office, but not before the endless halls of students got an eyeful.

It was late afternoon, the last week of classes. This was gossip, and my walk of shame was just what they needed. The whispering doubled in shock when Bronson and his misfits helped him along the corridors with his pathetic limping. I desperately wanted to prove he was faking it.

The majestic voice in my head said. Was that the best way to handle this?

I sighed. I know, I know … Answering the voice in thought.

La’Kera was right. She was always right. My dragon was six months old and she knew more than I did. She used the voice of reason; I used the voice of action. While I saw reason in this action, I didn’t think I’d get busted. I smiled smugly, knowing I did succeed in getting the parchments at least.

***

Sitting in the headmistress office was the second most uncomfortable feeling I had ever felt. And it wasn’t my first time here. Sitting across from me, behind her oak desk was the headmistress:

Lady Darcia Croft, Sapherian Ryder, Bond of Da’Vora.

A tall woman with a simple look, her features sat more masculine, with a wider jaw, deeper brow and broader shoulders than most women. Though, just as beautiful as all Ryders were. Her dark hair was wrapped into her standard top bun with the fringe pinned tight to her left brow. Her eyes were a deep brown; black in the dimly lit office. Darcia wore the standard blue cloak for a Sapherian Ryder, listening to Salvador’s tale, her eyes glared into mine.

I dropped my gaze, knowing it didn’t matter either way. Salvador stood to my left, while he usually was a calm teacher; definitely not one of my favourites. He was angered and fired up. His pale face was splashed with red blotches from his gasped explanations to the headmistress. To my right, was someone I had never met. He was already in the room when Salvador pushed me into the seat and interrupted this stranger, bowing to apologise before continuing on with what he had discovered in the north tower—me, attacking Bronson.

I rolled my eyes. He deserved it. After what he did to me this afternoon. I heaved a sigh. I tried not to look too relieved just yet.

Side glancing the stranger’s form, I hid a smirk that twitched my lips. Black shoulder length hair napped his neck, masculine with a nice golden tan on his forearms and shoulders. Mid twenties like all Ryders of the lands. He wasn’t wearing any coloured cloak to show which dragon kin he belonged to. He did have the dragon glove in view.

I dropped my gaze to my pale ashen glove. It ran the length of my left forearm, from knuckles to elbow and like all Ryders, chosen to be guardians of Dangora. The glove was fingerless, strong of unbreakable material with four small holes on the underside from palm to elbow. This was the reason I was here—this glove. A Dragon Ryders Glove. This pale ashen-glove, covered in small indentions and hidden hieroglyphs was the one thing that would save me from a sound lashing—might save me from a sound lashing. I know it would definitely save me from expulsion from Draeos. They didn’t punish students with time off. No. They gave you more time on.

I peeked up to Salvador just as he finished his tale of what he discovered, saw, and heard from the other students, and the damage I had done to poor Bronson.

Now I wish I did hurt him. At least a bruise on his face would have been nice.

Do you have anything to add to this, Miss Thorndale? Darcia’s voice was harsh.

For a fleeting moment, I thought she had heard my thoughts.

I didn’t mean to do it. He jumped up so fast—

Jumped up? So you don’t deny using magic on him? She tilted her head.

He did it first— Darn it. I was done for. I really shouldn’t talk. I was just blocking.

That is beside the point. Mr. Creet will be punished for his behaviour. But you. You will be punished far stronger.

I swear I didn’t mean it.

"Whatever your intentions, Miss Thorndale, does not sit well in the lands or in the school of Draeos. You should be ashamed of yourself. You are a 1st year senior. A Dragon Ryder. Given the privileges others would only dream of. And this is how you repay us? Your Bond?" Her thin lips pressed together in disgust.

I stared at the floor. The weight of what I had done started to sink in. She was right. Sort of. Putting up with what I had to endure for the past six months, she wouldn’t want this lecture either.

I know that coming to Draeos at such a late stage in life has put you under a lot of pressure to keep pace with the other students. Her tone changed, as to her features; softer maybe.

I lifted my eyes from my knotted fingers.

I am aware that you completed your exams last week, and I would like to inform you that your results have returned.

And? I wanted to prompt her, but stayed silent.

And after reviewing your test results and discussing matters with your teachers, I’m afraid to inform you, Miss Thorndale that you will not be moving on to the final year of training. You will be repeating your 1st year senior.

What? You can’t! I can’t be that bad. I know I was late getting here—

"Late!—Late, Miss Thorndale would have been a few moments. You arrived ten years too late. Your training is far behind all the other Ryders. Not to mention basic hand work, simple knowledge of lands and lores. While we take great pleasure in knowing another Dragon Ryder is in training, and we will provide to the best of that Ryders needs, we wish to make sure you are more than capable when you do graduate. Sending you off to your final year would be devastating. You are not even six months in. Your fellow students have been training for years; their Bonds are three years older this coming year. That is why we ask that you repeat your eleventh year. Hopefully you will go on to your final year with better grades than what you finished with this year."

She may well have spoken about a common flu. Me failing? That was hard to take in. Was I really that bad? Okay, maybe.

I know I can keep up. I can do more study, after lessons. Please. Don’t keep me down a year. Begging wasn’t helping.

She raised a palm to stop my plea.

It’s not up for discussion, Miss Thorndale. The rule is clear. No student is permitted to leave a grade unless capable, and worthy of moving onwards. You are not capable. And after today, and the other three incidents in the past six months, it is a wonder you managed to get even a grade on your exams.

Well, don’t try and make me feel better, I scoffed inwards.

What does La’Kera have to say about my decision?

I blinked at Darcia’s tone. She didn’t show anger anymore. Perhaps she realised she was being a tad harsh. Trying to hide my pain, fear and shock, wasn’t easy. Sadly, La’Kera was the one to receive my pain. She tried for soothing rumbles.

She thinks that it would be for the best … that we are too young to continue to the next level, I said, sullenly. The shock had passed and so too the anger. Now I was just numb. I wasn’t angry with La’Kera. She spoke truth.

She is far wiser than you, Miss Thorndale. I ask that you heed her advice more often. She sighed.

I figured that was it. I was now free to go. I risked shifting my legs. Her gaze held me in place as she tilted her head to the stranger, who was still as a statue in the room.

I will discuss your punishment in a moment. First, I would like you to meet, Master Karson Albury, Bond of Blade’Dur. He is a top level Master, experienced in mentoring the best students in the lands. He has come here today so that we could discuss your training in more detail.

I turned my attention to the stranger. Karson Albury. That didn’t ring any bells. Maybe he was new to Draeos, or the east of Dangora. Taking in his chiselled features, they reminded me of statues, carved from marble. I double blinked in my distraction and focused. Not on his good looks. Well, maybe a little. But mostly on what Darcia was saying.

Because of your situation, I am withdrawing your visit into EzRah during the holidays.

NO! I almost leaped from my seat. My face drained of all colour. Not allowed to go to EzRah? Along with repeating my eleventh year. What more could this woman do to me?

It’s my decision to allow you entrance. It isn’t part of your punishment. It is a requirement by the Guild to allow you to gain more skill while staying here in Draeos for the holidays.

I have to train on my holidays?

Training daily with Master Karson throughout the two months will aid you in more ways, Miss Thorndale. Her voice was heavy. Once the school year resumes, Master Karson will be teaching you after class and on weekends for the remainder of your schooling at Draeos.

You have got to be kidding me! I gasped. This was too much. Too much for one day. I know I’m behind—

Behind? You are far behind in your study, Miss Thorndale. She wet her lips, with another heavy sigh. "And least I remind you, that you are the only Ryder in the lands bonded with the rarest dragon. The first in three hundred years! You are bonded with the only Dy’Monian dragon. The rarest, the most sought after of all kin. That is the most valuable thing in this land. You shouldn’t be turning down Master Karson’s generosity with little thought to what this could mean for you and La’Kera. You will do as Master Karson asks. Is that clear?" Her dark eyes pierced into me with order.

I wanted to protest.

Stay calm … it will be okay, La’Kera’s gentle voice echoed into my thoughts. She was overjoyed that I was staying in the grounds of Stone Heart Valley. It made her purr with excitement.

The longer I twisted my fingers, the harder it was to think of how I could get out of it.

"Is that clear?" She demanded an answer. Her words were final.

I nodded. Yes, Lady Darcia, I squeaked.

Your punishment will be as follows … You will clean the lavatory in your section for the rest of the week. You will help in the kitchen with the house elves after evening meals. And you will produce a parchment on proper mânã usage in two evenings. And if you use magic on another student again, you will scrub the shower rooms on every level for the next year. Is that clear? Her command was absolute.

Dropping my gaze to my lap, I grumbled inwardly at her tone. I didn’t want to risk irritating her more. She usually isn’t this mad. Maybe my other incidents were overlooked because I was new. Not anymore. I would have preferred to do a ten thousand word essay on why not to use magic rather than clean the lavatory. I had to swallow my pride, annoyed and frustrated in myself.

That is all, Miss Thorndale. I hope not to see you in here again. Her tone was edged with less steam.

I nodded. With shaking legs, I rose, avoiding eye contact with Salvador and Karson, and left the room.

Once free of the tower, I released the heavy breath I’d been holding. My body was in knots; my eyes were close to moistness. I didn’t like being yelled at, humiliated and insulted, and the punished on top of it all. I swallowed several gulps of air, taking in the dappled rays that splashed the cobble stone with afternoon warmth. I crossed the courtyard and entered into the Main Building.

Least it’s only the rest of this week to clean the privy, said La’Kera.

Easier said than done, I answered her in thought. Seeking her mind, she was out by the far woods; several hours walk from here, a fifteen minute flight for her. She was hunting rabbit at this time of day. I continued towards my chamber. My heart and mind were heavy with all that happened and knowing the truth—I wasn’t going to EzRah.

Chapter 2

Climbing the stairs towards my chamber, I passed several students who knew me and dozens who didn’t. In all my life, I had never seen so many people—young people in one place. Hundreds of students attended the academy, not just Ryders. All children with magical ability or training in the Arts of Sword, Magic, History, and Lore attended, even non-magical children came to Draeos.

The Dragon Ryders Academy Educating Open Sorcery; a place where, Wizards, Witches, Swordsmen or Alchemist can come in safety to learn, and make friends. I was the one person who didn’t have friends. Most didn’t bother making eye contact with me. Some had questions, usually the swordsmen or archers, but most avoided me. The majority heard the rumours, and all of them believed everything that slime-ball, Bronson said. I knew none of them, unless it was in class, and the few who did try, had all turned away from me in the past two months, regardless. A part from La’Kera, I was alone. Since I wasn’t going to EzRah for the following two months, I was completely alone. I lived for so long in tunnel vision, direction and aim was my code.

I shouldered my loneliness for the better part of five months when it all went sour for me. The day after I decided to get all body connections with Bronson, he dumped me like a fireball—fast and painful. I pressed my lips together in irritation, remembering that night. I had slipped into his room, claiming I had an assignment I needed help with. Course one thing led to another, and then it was a tangle on the bed … sadly; he wasn’t as much fun as I had been led to believe. He was lame and ashamed. Lying there in the dark, I was a little unsure; thinking, maybe it will take time. A relationship should take its time. But he just wanted me for his … collection, as I discovered. He told the whole 1st year senior in moments of our encounter, making out I was the worst person he’d ever slept with, which was completely different in my eyes. It was worse, because I didn’t actually realise what everyone was whispering about. Most were laughing; small smiles reflected wherever I went. The boys all snickered, and slowly the bad joke became painful when Amber Bernet pointed her finger, laughing between breaths of—you didn’t waste any time—like that was a way to say, he couldn’t do right by me, spreading lies to everyone, and hours after our encounter. Sadly, I ran from them, and wished I could keep running. La’Kera was the reason I couldn’t leave. She had dragon friends to keep her company at least. I didn’t hate her for it. I just hated I was here, with them.

The most frustrating thing about the whole situation was that he turned around a week later stating he was sorry, he didn’t mean it, he was just being stupid. Course, I believed him. I was so caught between the idea and the reason; I didn’t see him for what he was. A complete low life. He turned around the next day and told a whole heap more lies, adding to his tale with colourful exaggeration, which I realised too late; he was a jerk. I hated myself for being swayed into thinking he was the sweetest guy, and he wasn’t. What a loser!

The first time he tricked me; I thought he was, lost, shy, willing to make something of it. He was a fool. Ugh. I was a fool for giving in to his … charm? I slept with him that once, and he treats me like crap? I knew all about courting and intimacy prior to him. I was disappointed, ashamed I’d allowed myself to be taken advantage of. I wasn’t like other girls, I knew that. I had Milton; my steady boyfriend back in Plumridge, who showed me a few things; not a lot, but enough that I knew the birds and bees and all things sweet. And sadly, Bronson was completely shy about his own nudity. He used me until he got what he wanted. Trying to be my secret friend, meanwhile, he used everything I would say in one conversation to turn around and have me look like I was stalking him. Tugh!

I once liked him, before we tangled on the bed. He was sweet, talking to me, chatting to me; showing us all kinds of things those first few weeks, even spending time with La’Kera and me. Now it was all for nought. I had written him secret notes, hoping he’d forgive me, and sadly, I put a little too much creation in my letters. The stupid idiot placed a flyer around the academy, stating I was to be all alone in the city. Anyone was welcomed to cheer me up for free, only need to come by my chambers before they leave. What an ass. Anger boiled at the memory of reading the parchment. I discovered six on my way towards my room after combat, and there were more around the grounds I’d never see or find.

I exhaled heavily, trying to manoeuvre my way higher to my sleeping chambers. It so happened, the staircase wasn’t narrow. Spacious enough for six people to stand shoulder-to-shoulder, and of course, everyone wanted to do that. Maybe I should have stayed on the lobby floor. The museum held countless artefacts, paintings, and fake Fallen Ryders, dummies of wizards and witches, dotted the area. Least there, I wouldn’t have to shoulder my way through a thickening crowd of students. I came free from one crowd to have another. Most were going downstairs, while I was trying to get to my chamber on the ninth floor of the Main Building.

Hey, Rehema?

I paused between level seven and eight. Three boys were smirking widely. Wizards had a scrawny look about them, easy to pick in a fight. They had nothing but height to aid them. At present these wizards were teens, at five foot nine, they were still growing. Worse, they used the wrong sound to my name.

It’s Ree-Mah, not Re-He-Ma. I spat at them.