Page 6 of The Storm of the Empire

“I asked around after you agreed to come out with me. People speak very highly of you.”

“People are either too afraid to harm their career by speaking ill of me or are actually afraid of my sword. There is no respect among the flyers for a dud in their midst, however skilled.”

“A dud?” he asked.

“A dragon with no ryder. If a dragon cannot fulfill its destiny by being called to their ryder and bonding its magic with theirs, then they are considered a dud.”

“That’s pretty harsh. And it’s utter nonsense. Skill itself earns respect, dragon or not,” he countered.

“You don’t know dragons,” I said flatly. “Dragon culture is harsh. Duds are considered defective. Forgotten by the Goddess and unworthy. There is no place for us in dragon society because we aren’t allowed in the army.”

Luka’s head shook as I spoke like he was rejecting the notion, but he couldn’t possibly understand. “That seems like a waste of a good dragon. You’re still young.” He waved at me. “Nyx was older than you before he found his ryder, right?” he asked with all the optimism of a fae who was totally unfamiliar with dragon culture.

“Wrong. Nyx was called to Zaria as a young boy. He knew she was out there. He just had to find her. I have no such hope.”

Not at my age. I was considered an old maid even by modern standards.

“And you haven’t had the call?” he asked softly.

I shook my head.“I’ve never even had an inkling of a pull towards a ryder.”

“And there is meant to be a ryder for all dragons?”

“So says dragon lore. I mean, no, not every dragon gets a ryder—duds aren’t uncommon. I’m not alone. It’s thought that when a dragon never gets the call, their ryder must have died in their youth. But some, those with more puritanical beliefs, think that a dud happens when a dragon goes against the Goddess in a past life or isn’t deserving of one because of their character.” I didn’t want to talk about it. It was too depressing.

“It’s a slight against your character?!” Luka scoffed. “That sounds like the nonsense I was raised on.”

“Well, nonsense or not, I don’t have a ryder, so I’m a dud, and there are enough dragons who believe the nonsense that they’d never allow for me to be more than the weapons instructor.”

“Couldn’t your ryder be out there somewhere and you just haven’t found them yet?”

I shook my head. “It doesn’t work that way. The call to them would be irresistible wherever they happened to be.”

“So that’s it?” Luka’s shoulders sank in disappointment, as if he was fully invested in my hunt for a ryder for a moment, and I’d dashed his hopes. “You’re just giving up?”

I lifted my tankard and took a long drink. Setting it back down, I mustered the courage to look him in the eyes and admit to him something I have hardly even admitted to myself: “I think I’m starting to accept it.” I looked away, scanning the bar for anyone I wouldn’t want hearing me say such a thing, then returned my full attention to him. “Truthfully, while I have never given up hope that the Goddess would call me when it was my time, I acknowledge that time has all but gone. It’s extremely unusual to be my age and still waiting. It happens, but it’s rare. I maintain a positive front on the matter because I worry the King will declare me unfit to even teach in the legion if I’m officially declared dud. But I’m starting to accept my fate more and more as time passes.”

Luka reached across the table without hesitation and took my hand in his. His skin was warm, and when I met his intense gaze, his eyes were burning with something I couldn’t read. “You should never give up hope.”

“I’ll always believe it’s possible if it’s the Goddess’ wish. I’m just being a realist.”

“Eh, reality is overrated if you ask me!” He smiled, instantly lightening the mood. “Let’s just believe what we want to believe and enjoy what this wonderful place has to offer.”

I caught his infectious smile and felt all the weight of my doubts and fears lifting off my shoulders. What magic was this he wielded? I laughed, surveying the tavern. “This wonderful place?”

“This city.” He shrugged.

I tilted my head in a silent question.

“Where I come from—what I come from—I could have never imagined a place like this existed. The freedom, the joy, the?—”

I scoffed. “The impending threat of war?”

Luka leaned in towards me. “I’ll take it. Even that. It’s better than a life of nothing but subsistence. Where I grew up, every day was the same.”

I studied him. “Does nothing faze you?”

He gave me a long look, thinking. “Only being rejected by the best weapons instructor in all the kingdoms.”

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