Page 83 of The Dragonrider and the Void
“You did graduate then,” Venrick said.
“Not with any help from you,” Yarla jested.
“No,” Venrick said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I guess not.”
“I’m sorry,” she said, stepping closer to him.
Venrick shook his head. “Don’t be, Yarla. We were kids. There wasn’t anything anyone could’ve done to keep me in Gambria. Once they knew I wasn’t full elf, no amount of training could’ve kept me there.”
“I tried to make them see that their rules were unfair,” she said.
“But you were one young elf against an entire Kingdom engrained in tradition. I just wish my mother could’ve stayed and lived the life she deserved.”
“How is your mother?” Yarla asked.
“She’s gone,” Venrick said.
After a long silence, Yarla said, “Do you know why I left Gambria?”
Venrick saw the pain behind her eyes as she held her emotions in.
“I left because no matter how many times I tried to make a change from the inside, I couldn’t. I made it to Knight, but I left to find Cheyanne before they could bind me there with the title of Paragon.”
“You gave up becoming a rider?”
“Potentially,” she said. “I can still bond with a dragon here in Lamar or Nordraven,” she said with a smile. Then, placing a hand on Venrick’s shoulder, continued, “I know we were just kids, and it was a long time ago, but it wasn’t right. You deserved to be there just as much as any of us.”
“After my mother passed, I was alone, desperate. I made my way to Astral City to apply for the Paragon Academy there. They took one look at me and turned me down,” he said with a chuckle. “But there was one among them who didn’t judge me because of my heritage.”
“I’d always heard Tel Roan was the only honorable Paragon of Lamar,” Yarla said.
“He took me under his wing, chose me as his Squire after only a few sessions of watching me train. He saw something in me that he didn’t see in others. When I didn’t get accepted into the Academies the second and third time, Tel said it was common for the pool of applicants to be extremely competitive. Likely that the majority were Squires or Squad leaders with multiple years of experience. Then, when the rejection letters continued to come, year after year, he understood what they were doing. Lamar’s system didn’t want a half-breed either.”
“Lamar boasts of being a place of opportunity to all,” Yarla said.
“Not when it comes to becoming a Knight or a Paragon. I was damaged goods in their eyes. So, Tel continued with my training, each year showing me more of what a true Paragon of Lamar should be. How to be honorable and just. In those last few years, we were working together almost as equals. By all rights except in name and title, I was his Knight.” Venrick shook his head. “I wonder what he would think of all this. Tel wouldn’t have fought for the Vermillion Keep had he known what the King was up to, or had he known what Lark and Cheyanne were trying to do.
“Cheyanne’s mission had to be discreet in the beginning. For her to build her base,” Yarla said.
“He must not have known because Tel idolized the riders of old. He was brought up in a world where the dragonriders of the Vermillion Keep were a symbol of justice and world peace, not in the reality that we now face. He never fought threats like these,” Venrick sighed. “Tel believed in meeting threats head-on,” he added. “I always preferred to find the cracks in a defense, to slip through rather than break through.”
Their conversation was interrupted by a commotion at the edge of the clearing. Hardin stood knee-deep in the foreststream, his face contorted in concentration as he held his hands out before him. The water between his palms shimmered with an unnatural purple-blue light, forming into a sphere that wobbled precariously.
“Focus!” Ezra called from the bank. “Feel the connection, don’t force it!”
The sphere of water suddenly exploded outward, drenching Hardin completely. He staggered back, frustration evident in his expression.
“I’m trying. It’s like trying to thread a needle while riding a galloping horse,” he growled, pushing his soaked hair from his face.
Quinthara watched from a few dozen yards away, her midnight scales glistening with droplets from her rider’s failed attempt. Though her expression was unreadable to most, Venrick could see the concern in her posture.
“He’s struggling with control,” Yarla murmured. “The bond formed too quickly, under duress.”
Venrick nodded, remembering what Hardin had told them about the moment he’d bonded with Quinthara. The dragon had been exposed to the Hyalite’s power in Red Lodge, just as he rushed in to help. Their bond had formed instantly to save them both, without the usual period of gradual connection that most riders experienced.
“Perhaps I can help,” Venrick said, setting down his cup and moving toward the stream.
Hardin looked up as Venrick approached, embarrassment flashing across his face before he mastered it. “I should be better at this by now,” he said. “We’ve been trying for weeks.”
