Page 13 of Dragon Valley
Damn Nadi.
Damn her for having no tact, no respect for tradition and the way things were done. Couldn’t she see that the reason our people had done so well and the outsiders didn’t, was because we didn’t get involved in their affairs? These people were still strangers to us. Maybe the ones here were trustworthy, but why was she so eager to help them after what happened to her mother?
She studied some of the history, but she didn’t know all the conflicts between our people and the outsiders as well as I did. My father had firsthand experience with many of them when he was young. These people spent centuries trying to enslave us, to cheat us in trade agreements, to take our land, our dragons, our heritage and traditions. The only reason Dragon Valley still existed was because our ancestors defended it.
My great-great grandfather personally led a small army of Riders over the mountain range and lit up a small settlement after we had explicitly told them to get off the land. Since I was a young child, I took the importance of my future role as chief very seriously. Without a strong chief, there would be no Dragon Valley, or dragon clans.
My trials were soon approaching and I hadn’t told Nadi yet. I would be gone for weeks into the wilderness with barely anything to survive. I would have to hunt my own food and build my own shelter with no dragon to make anything easy for me. The trials were to remind us that humans by themselves were still weak. We had no fur or claws on our side, only our brains.
If the wilderness didn’t kill me and I came back by the next full moon, I would be found worthy to lead my clan as chief. But a chief also needed children to take his place in the future, and for that he needed wives.
Or a single wife, as the outsiders did it, which was becoming the preferable option to me as Nadi and I grew up.
I had my choice of potential wives to choose from, beautiful fiery women born from strong Riders themselves. My father often joked that he wished he had such choices when he was younger. But none of them mattered to me. Only Nadi did.
My oldest sister Azaria never married, and she took over raising Nadi in our home when her mother was killed. The death of Nadi’s mother was especially hard on Azaria, and I knew she took care of Nadi because she was the only thing left of her master Rider.
Nadi and I were inseparable growing up. We felt like the same person in two different bodies. I teased her relentlessly when I started my Rider training first. We still laughed about how she tried to lie and say she was ten so she could get her dragon egg too.
As we grew into teenagers, our differences truly started emerging. I’d never seen anyone take their Rider training so seriously. When I joked she wouldn’t be able to ride once she got pregnant, she yelled in my face that she would never have children. Riding was more important.
I couldn’t pinpoint the moment I fell in love with her. It was more like I realized that was how I felt all along, even when we were children. I could always tell her anything and she’d listen. To this day, she was never afraid to tell me if my ideas were great or stupid. Sometimes it was frustrating how she never seemed to think before speaking, but I honestly admired and loved her fiery spirit. She was a true Rider, most likely in tune with dragons since in her mother’s womb.
I could write it off as a close friendship when we were kids. But as she grew taller— her legs, hips, and waist becoming more shapely, those feelings were no longer innocent. I wanted to take her as mine— my strong Dragon Rider wife who rode alongside me. I wanted to taste her mouth, to feel those long legs of hers wrap around me, and hear her say my name as I pleasured her again and again.
But she didn’t seem to see me that way. Riding was her life.I belong to the sky, she always said. She lived and breathed the cool air whipping her wild hair back as she rode Dusa through the clouds. And the more she fell in love with riding, the more I fell for her.
And now she latched on to using her skills as a Rider for a greater good. Provide aid to the villages outside the valley? Even though it pissed me off, it made me admire her more.
That complicated things. A wife was supposed to obey her husband. My duties as chief meant I had to choose a wife who was suitable. I knew without a doubt that Nadi would be considered unsuitable. She was too independent. She questioned authority loudly and unapologetically. It didn’t matter who was around.
If I wasn’t the chief’s son, it would be my choice and mine alone. But I had an example to set.
Why do you have to be the only one I want, Nadi?I thought. If only I could choose among the other girls who expressed interest, but the mere thought of that sickened me.
Her laughter floated over from the central fire pit, followed the low murmurings of Caden’s voice. My hands clenched into fists at my sides. They seemed taken with each other and I wasn’t sure how to feel about that, either. She would cut him if he tried anything, I knew that much. But what bothered me the most was he seemed to be interested in her for the same reasons I was.
From what I knew, outsider women had even less rights and opportunities than our own. A beautiful, fiery-spirited girl who answered to no one must have been fascinating to him.
A rustling to my left made me look to see Captain Aron and my father exiting the hut, both smiling and talking in low voices. My father patted the captain on the back and they shook hands. The captain walked off toward Caden and began speaking low in his ear.
“Father?” I whispered, approaching from the darkness.
The chief turned to me, a pleased expression on his face.
“It’s done, my son. Tomorrow the rebel army will be allowed entry into the southern end of Dragon Valley. They will camp and rest under our protection for as long as they need.”
“I see,” I answered. “And what are they giving us in return?”
“Knowledge,” he answered. “Technology. Plants, seeds, and textiles not readily available to us in the valley. If this goes well, we may have trade agreements in the future.”
I stared at him, stunned.
“You’re really open to this?” I asked, incredulous. “This changes everything. I thought you were happiest when we didn’t have any contact with the outsiders.”
“The Dragon God has brought them to us, son. The dawn of a new age is upon us,” he said, tapping his chest. “I feel it in here. A new fire is forging. I may not live to see it through, but while I’m still here I can begin to put it in motion.”
My throat dried up, unable to respond when he suddenly turned solemn.
