Ashborn Chapter 2
Chapter 2: Aspira Dareya faces the ancient and deadly ritual as dragons arrive—bonding stones glow, alliances form, and deadly rejection looms in the arena’s shadow.
“Dareya Calderin”
The Warden’s voice rang out over the hushed arena as she pulled the final name stone from the bowl. My name.
I gulped as I marched forward, willing my nerves to steel, the tremors beneath my boots growing stronger. A quick salute to the Wardens and before my mind had caught up to my feet, I stood before the Sphere, stunned, my hands limp at my sides.
Out of twenty Aspira who had marched into the ceremony, only six stood behind me clutching stones.
My mind flooded with every reason I shouldn’t be found worthy.
Too fiery.
Too proud.
Too quick to question Order.
Too unwilling to submit.
I took a deep breath, lifting my hand from my side.
“Are you going to complete the ritual?” The elder Warden gently prompted as the strengthening tremors rocked the ground.
I nodded, barely, letting my hand snake upward, inching forward to the Sphere until it finally made contact.
The Sphere erupted into brilliant light. I turned away instinctively, blinking hard to clear the spots in my vision as the light faded. A softly glowing gray stone veined with gold fell into my hand which I suddenly remembered to place under it.
I walked silently back to the group, turning the stone in my hand as the glow faded, marveling at the runes sketched into its surface. This wasn’t an ordinary stone, I realized. This was an ancient relic.
Before I was halfway back, the flapping of wings, a roiling heat, and a shadow crossing over me caused me to look up from my pondering.
The dragons were here.
The elder Warden’s lips moved silently as she counted under her breath. “One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten.”
She looked to the seven Aspira standing in formation, their stones clutched in their hands.
“Oh, shit.” She breathed, her composure breaking into visible, unrestrained, pure terror.
The Soldiers ringing the arena snapped to readiness. Guns, crossbows, and other projectile weapons rose in unison, every bolt and barrel trained skyward, tracking the dragon in their sector. Those with melee weapons stood ready their lines tight and unwavering.
The dragons were coming in fast.
And somewhere, beneath the thundering, a ceremony still hung in the air. Unfinished.
Only seven of us remained, clutching our relic-stones like lifelines.
A Warden grabbed my arm, hard enough to leave a bruise, dragging me away from the others. I stumbled on the blackened stones, barely managing to keep myself upright as I struggled to keep my footing and keep up with the Warden.
I watched the six other Aspira each being desperately pulled by a Warden, our tight formation broken into a wide, deliberate circle.
The Soldiers around us kept their unwavering attention on the sky, eyes and weapons tracking the movement of the dragons, ready for whatever might come.
Except for the Soldiers, the seven Aspira and the seven Wardens escorting the Aspira, the arena, which had been crowded with people only moments before, had emptied, the heavy gates slamming shut. I gulped, my heart pounding.
The dragon could still reject the bond. I had heard the stories. Sometimes when a dragon rejects the bond, the dragon kills the Aspira.
I almost didn’t notice the dragon softly landing.
Jessa looked smug as a large beast stood in front of her, her stone glowing brilliantly as he lowered his head to her.
"First,” she mouthed, smirking triumphantly at me as she slotted her stone in the empty socket of the helm crowning the dragon’s brow. The dragon prowled until he stood behind Jessa.
The next two dragons had landed in turn, each selecting an Aspira. Their choices were swift and sure.
Both women stepped forward, faces lit with stun and awe, slotting their glowing relic stones into the dragons’ helms.
The stones flared to life before the light faded. Acceptance.
Three bonds had formed.
A fourth dragon circled and flew away without landing. My stomach turned.
The fifth dragon landed before Aspira Ageli Morin.
Ageli, the heiress to a legacy of riders. Cunning. Ambitious. Perfect.
Ageli held her stone to the dragon. Bold. Unflinching.
But it didn’t glow.
The relic remained dull in her hand.
The dragon stilled, tilting his great head. For a moment, I thought he might reconsider.
Then, the beast before her threw back his head and with a thunderous roar, launched upward in a torrent of wind and ash
Ageli didn’t move.
She just stood there, her mouth agape, holding her stone out, as though sheer willpower could make the relic glow. As if defiance could force the dragon’s return.
But he was gone, the rejection absolute.
For a second, the arena held its breath.
Then two Wardens sprinted from the shadows. One seized Ageli’s arm, the other lifted her from the scorched stones by her waist.
She kicked. Screamed.
“No!” She tried to force herself from the Wardens’ grips. “He was supposed to choose me!”
Her voice cracked with rage and disbelief. The Wardens hauled her across the arena, past the line of burning torches illuminating the ceremony, and through the gate which had been hastily opened.
As soon as she was through, the gate slammed shut behind her.
I swallowed hard.
The bond was not guaranteed. Not even for those who were legacy born.
The gold-veined gray stone felt heavier as I tightened my grip.
I watched as the dragon returned, searching, and not seeing Ageli, flew away again, disappearing from our view.
Five dragons circled overhead.
Three Aspira remained.
And one of them was me.
A sixth dragon landed and prowled through the arena. He paced back and forth between the three remaining Aspira. We held our breaths, our hearts pounding. I’d swear he was enjoying his little moment of torment.
After several minutes, he stopped before the woman standing between two bonded pairs to my left. She gasped as she raised her relic-stone toward him. It glowed, a gentle green.
He bowed his head, and she slotted the relic into position. As it made contact, if briefly flared its acceptance of the bond.
The seventh and eighth dragons flew away without landing.
Shanel Kotari and I shared a knowing look. Two Aspira. Two Dragons. Two more bonds.
One of the dragons landed immediately and decisively in front of Shanel. She smiled her triumph as she held the glowing stone out.
The dragon snarled at her, recoiling, as the glow faded from the stone. Two Soldiers quickly appeared by her side, grabbed her, and rushed her from the Arena.
Shanel had been the only other Aspira to make it through the selection ceremony who wasn’t from a noble house, though she came from landed gentry.
If she wasn’t chosen, I have no hope.
I stepped back, my heart hammering, eyes warily locked on the tenth dragon as he lazily glided down a spiral path.
“Hey, Witchwake!” Jessa’s mocking voice carried across the arena, loud enough for everyone to hear. “Run.”
Laughter bubbled up from the bonded women surrounding her. Jessa’s eyes gleamed cold with calculation. Confidence wrapped around her like armor. She had been chosen first, her dragon the strongest and most coveted.
My breath caught as I calculated how close the dragon was and how far I had to run. Jessa’s right, but even at a full sprint, I’d never make it to the gate.
The tenth dragon landed with a thunderous crash mere steps from me, the ground trembling from his weight.
I almost didn’t notice. I’d been too caught up in Jessa’s taunt and my pounding heart.
The dragon's eyes, a molten gold, ancient and unreadable locked onto me. Time stopped as I raised a shaking hand to him, the stone already glowing before I had lifted my hand.
His scales were a lovely gray, like the clouds in a frontier thunderstorm. From the firelight, I imagined how they might look glistening silver in the sun.
I stood, still shaking but mesmerized, holding out the glowing stone. The dragon took a slow step toward me, massive claws clinking against the scorched stone.
He stretched his wings, saying nothing. Just watching me.
And then, he bowed his head to me.
I stepped forward on unsteady legs. He didn’t move. Didn’t blink. Just watched.
I felt the heat of his breath as placed one hand on him to steady myself and slotted the relic-stone into the empty socket of his helm. “Thank you.” I whispered, lowering my head to his.
Then I heard it, a voice, inside my head. “Mine. At last.”
*****
The arena reeked of fear. Of the stench of steel and mortal arrogance. I circled high above, watching as my brothers scattered or were satisfied. One by one, the others chose or refused.
But I hadn’t descended. Not yet.
She stood alone, surrounded by the bonded pairs, including the sneering one whose stone flared first. The one who believed her beast to be dominant. She reeked of bloodline and bluster.
My beloved’s name was not a word, not yet.
I dropped lower. I could feel her doubt, her fear as the bonded jeered, yet she didn’t run.
I landed as close as I dared. She looked at me, her trembling hands lifting. So fragile. Then, her fingers on my muzzle. Soft. Mortal. Warm. She lifted the relic and pressed it into my helm. “Thank you.” Her voice was just as soft.
In that instant the world ruptured and reformed. “Mine” I said to her, speaking in her head. “At last.”
*****
Something vast and ancient surged through me. I couldn’t breathe. My knees gave out, but I didn’t feel myself hit the ground. Voices echoed in the distance, shouts of confusion and above them, a triumphant, inhuman roar. Then silence and then nothing.
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