Page 133 of Forcing Fate

I don’t know how it happened, but it was my secret, and I liked it.

Night terrors often plagued my sleep. Images of men banging on the door, or slamming it into my cot. The theme was always the same—Victyr and his lot trying to get me.

Among the other soldiers, I developed a reputation for being distant but present. I was cold and withdrawn, telling myself that I didn’t need their friendship and no longer cared what they thought. I joined to be a soldier, and I could do that on my own… if I improved at fighting alone.

I applied myself completely to every task, though more often than naught, I failed. The Masters were unsure of what to do with me. Commander Dewal admired my determination, but I knew he considered me the weakest link. I never got close to any of my company, always maintaining a mental distance. They saw me as a leech, one who was strung along by their strength no matter how hard I tried to stand on my own.

This was the path I chose, and yet again, I felt like a failure. A constant sensation of worry lingered. What if I’d made the wrong choice? When I considered it, I didn’t see another option left to me. Even if it were possible, I was too old to switch occupations. I was contracted to the army for another four years. If I tried to get out now, I would be labeled a coward, a traitor, and hung.

Definitely not the way I wanted to die.

Hatching Day came, and I barely had time to reflect on its importance. A day of freedom was welcome, even if I didn’t have plans.

A few weeks prior, I wrote to my mother, telling her yet again not to come, but was vague in my reasoning. I needed to admit to her what I had done before autumn. I could only put it off for so long. My mother brought me into this world and raised me as best as she could. She cared for me and loved me on a level I could not comprehend. She didn’t deserve to be left in the dark. I kept my recruitment from her for my own selfish reasons. I didn’t want her to know until I had a solid standing with the Masters. If I proved I was good at this, perhaps she would not be so against it. She would surely be against it, but maybe not so adamantly.

The commotion of dragons and their Riders sounded across the King’s grounds, but I continued about my day, ignoring the excited din. I didn’t have any training, but I busied myself in the bunkhouse, tailoring my uniform.

Willhelm left with his fellow officers to visit a nearby village. He invited me, but as time moved on, I felt more and more out of place at the table with his friends. Commander Rory was a great sport, but Corporal Bane and Sergeant Greyson seemed guarded around me. Honestly, I was glad that Willhelm got away. I didn’t want him to always feel like my nursemaid.

I sat on my cot and sighed at my pile of mending. I finished the last bit and had nothing to do. It was a little after midday, and the Chosen were already forming their bonds with the hatchlings.

I shook my head, trying to banish those thoughts, and stood. I straightened the few items in my room and set off. Perhaps I’d find out where General Rafe was and see if we were training today.

Pushing my rolled sleeves up further against the summer heat, I bared my forearms to the scorching sun. Its glaring rays beat down on me as I walked through the barren streets of the barracks.

I glanced around at the empty buildings. During the Summer Solstice, the school grounds were packed with people bustling about, enjoying life. Here, it was quiet, except for the distant noise of the crowds and the intermittent roar or bellow of a dragon.

I walked around to the officers’ quarters but saw no sign of the General. Moving on, I checked the training fields where he sometimes exercised. Not finding him there, I checked the stables to see if he was perhaps working his horse.

Sighing when I didn’t find him, I stopped and sat on a bench outside the stables. I looked down at my legs wrapped in trousers and boots. The uniform no longer unnerved me, as it once did. It kept me far warmer in the winter, being covered head to toe in clothing. In the summer, however, it was a pain. The ankle-length trousers were hot and stifling in the heat. The boots were also a nuisance. I was accustomed to wearing sandals in the hotter months.

I shaded my eyes and peered up to see a brilliant green dragon barreling through the cloudless sky. It was a young beast, perhaps three-winters old. Likely enjoying the last few days of freedom before it left for the front. The Rider gripped its shoulders with their legs and threw their arms out. The sun glinted off the beast’s vibrant scales as it bellowed and ducked into a dive.

I felt my smile falter, knowing I would never experience that, and watched them drop out of sight. Pushing myself to my feet, I headed for the King’s Lake. I wouldn’t allow myself to wallow in pity or the jealousy of others. This was the life I was given, and the path I chose. I would learn to accept it and move on.

My feet took me toward the place I ran to last Hatching Day. I walked for a good chime or two, following a different path than before. I looked up at the trees and the sky as I distanced myself from the main core of Northwing. This place was peaceful—quiet.

I took my time enjoying the sights and cadence of nature. Being away from people and the buildings, the sounds of civilization, did something to my heart. It was like waking from a dream and seeing the world for the first time.

Everything brimmed with life. Cities were alive too, but in a different way. Being alone in nature made the present more distinct. Animals bustled about on their way, eating or building homes. Perhaps the squirrels were already thinking of winter, or the birds glorying in the empty nest that the summer brought.

The forest was busy, yet calm. Every animal, every plant, had a focus and a purpose to fulfill. Wanderlust flared in me like it often had when I was younger.

I smiled, trying to pull from the faint recollections of my childhood. Studying the thick trees, I remembered climbing with the village children, racing to the tops.

The distant gurgle of a stream reminded me of when I tried to catch fish with my bare hands. I was so sure I could catch one if I just moved fast enough…

I spotted a wild hare in the underbrush and had a faint memory of chasing rabbits away from my mother’s garden. My smile slowly fell, remembering my mother. I was living as independently as possible, and she likely missed me. I had not only lost a father in the war, but also my mother.

That was selfish and vain thinking, however. She had lost not only her husband but her child. She’d been unable to care for me on her own, and the village had too many widows as it was. I had been torn away from her as much as she had been torn away from me. Here I was, trying to further my life, and ignoring the one who cared for me. It was awful of me to tell her to stay away. I wasn’t thinking of her, only of myself.

I resolved to write to her soon and tell her I missed her and needed her to come in the autumn. Hopefully, she’d be able to. I could even try to find jobs to help cover the cost of travel. I wasn’t very good at sharpening or polishing blades like the rest of the soldiers, but I was far better than them when it came to mending.

Every soldier knew how to do a rough mend, but I took classes, and thanks to dear General Rafe and my uniform, I had some experience mending men’s clothing. Maybe I’d hire out my services as a tailor.

I couldn’t stop the small smile that came with thinking of the ‘alteration’ I had done for General Rafe. I snickered to myself as I cleared the thick of the forest and the dirt gave way to sand. Looking up, I expected the beach to be empty. This section of the King’s Lake was the furthest point from the barracks and school. Though technically still on the school grounds, it was rarely traveled to.

However, someone else sought solitude here.

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