PART I
THE PILGRIMAGE
1
KAILIN
Five years ago
The 27th Day of the Third Month
Year 11663 of the Dragon Pact
Year 3384 Post-Division
It is said that you can smell death on the wind before it comes to claim its due. Tonight, the air tastes of frost and pine and something else—something metallic and sharp that makes my skin crawl—but I ignore it and convince myself that there is no chance the monsters will come for me on the one night I'm left alone in the house.
—From the journal of Kailin Strom
Iadded a sketch to my journal entry, trying to capture visually the feeling I struggled to express in words. Drawing had always helped calm my nerves, turning vague impressions and uncomfortable feelings into more tangible visual representations, but tonight, even the familiar rhythm of pencil scratching against paper couldn't quiet the churning in my stomach.
Perhaps it was the wind howling outside my window or the cold seeping through every crack and crevice in the old stone walls. But I didn't really mind the cold, and I was used to the wind, so neither could be the cause of my sense of foreboding.
The most likely culprit was my brother's impending pilgrimage and my apprehension over the fate he would learn at its culmination.
Coupled with our parents' return trip home and the potential dangers they might face on the journey, was it a wonder that I was anxious?
Shedun attacks were rare in our area, but no place in Elucia was immune to this scourge.
Still, what was probably at the root of my unease was the realization that Dylon would not be coming home regardless of the fate awaiting him at the summit of Mount Hope.
When my brother had walked out the front door this morning, he'd left our childhood behind, and the life we'd shared was already reduced to a collection of memories and journal sketches.
With a sigh, I tucked the journal under my pillow, turned on my side, and propped myself on my elbow to gaze out the window.
The auroras were particularly spectacular tonight, great ribbons of green and purple light dancing across the sky. Their glow transformed the mountainside, casting an ethereal light over the landscape and making the snow-covered peaks shimmer. From afar, it all looked magical, but Elucia's breathtaking beauty was as harsh and unforgiving as its people.
In the distance, I could make out Mount Hope, its sacred summit disappearing into the clouds.
Tomorrow at dawn, Dylon would start the ascent, and in three days, he would reach the Circle of Fate and learn his destiny.
In five years, it would be my turn.
Thousands of young Elucians joined the three annual pilgrimages, hoping to be declared gifted and become riders, but only a handful were selected, if any.
The ability to bond with dragons was rare, dormant until awakened by Elu's touch and coaxed to the surface by the shaman's words. The trait ran in families, and since neither of our parents was gifted, it was highly probable that Dylon and I would be found talentless and get assigned to other branches of the Elucian military. But there was that one distant relative who'd been gifted, and that was enough to feed my brother's dreams and my nightmares.
I was probably the only Elucian dreading the possibility of becoming a dragon rider, and there were several good reasons for that, but chief among them was my fear of heights. It was uncommon for a mountain dweller, and I did my best to hide the embarrassing affliction, but merciful Elu was all-knowing, and I clung to the hope that the shaman would not decree a fate I couldn't endure.
Naturally, if I was chosen, I would fulfill my duty and serve my country to the best of my ability, but just imagining myself astride a dragon sent chills down my spine. I could barely handlea hover car skirting a ravine even with my eyes tightly shut. How could I possibly soar through the skies on the back of a flying beast?
With stubborn determination, that's how.
I was an Elucian, after all, and Elucians didn't let fear rule them.
Telling myself that I needed to set these thoughts aside and get some rest, I moved my journal to the windowsill and burrowed under my thick blanket, pulling it up to my nose. The warmth slowly lulled me to sleep, but I had barely started to doze off when Chicha's warning bark sliced through the night like a thunderclap, startling me awake and sending adrenaline coursing through my veins.
I bolted upright, the loud and rapid rhythm of my heartbeat nearly drowning out the barking. But then, as my terror burned through the cobwebs of sleep and my mind processed what was probably a false alarm, I took a calming breath and commanded my racing heart to slow down.
