Ashborn Chapter 1
Chapter 1: Enter the tense world of the Arakita Order as fierce warriors face the Crucible’s ultimate test: to bond with dragons in a high-stakes ceremony.
“Well, if it isn’t Witchwake herself.” Jessa Varnell’s voice cut like a knife.
I kept my eyes on the Soldiers surrounding the arena as we marched into the ceremony. Their armor gleamed dully in the waning light of the evening. The weapons they wield, swords, lances, maces, and some sorts of contraptions that launch projectiles, all of which have runes and relics embedded, are rumored to be capable of killing dragons, should that prove necessary.
I shuddered at the thought.
Twelve runes etch the worn, blackened stone floor of the arena. Precisely cut gems were embedded in each rune, which surround the center of the arena. A sphere made of some sort of dull, dark metal levitates, rotating over a polished marble column serving as the base. Rows of stones encircle the sides of the column under the sphere. In turn, each Aspira will touch the sphere, which, if she is worthy, lights up and releases a stone.
It is not uncommon for a good number of Aspiras to make it through the Crucible and not receive a stone. Please let me be found worthy. I thought. The embarrassment of failing this last test and being ushered from the arena before the dragons arrive for the bonding ceremony would forever brand me as unworthy in Varnell’s eyes.
I could feel the ground shaking from what must have been the movement of the dragons being released from containment. This is it. I kept my eyes forward, steadying my breath as I felt the tremor pulsing through the stone. Jesse’s voice lingered in my ears. Focus, I told myself. You can’t afford to lose now.
The Wardens came forward to stand in front of the Aspiras. Their worn leather armor, heavy with relics and sigils, belied thousands of battles stretching back millennia. Their sharp, unreadable eyes sized us up like prey. One Warden, an elder with silver hair, stepped to a round, flat stone just by the sphere. A second Warden, younger, took her place beside the first, carrying a crystal bowl filled with twenty small stones, each emblazoned with the name of an Aspira.
“You will be called one by one.” The younger of the Wardens stirred the stones in the bowl. “You will either touch the sphere and accept the fate, whether it accepts you or declares you unworthy, or you may decline to touch the sphere. If you are found not worthy or are decline this final test, you will be immediately removed from the arena.”
“Aspira Miraen Walzt,” The elder Warden read the name from the first stone pulled.
Miraen stepped out of the formation and to the stone. She rendered a smart salute to the Warden before hesitantly reaching her fingers to the sphere. After an interminable time, her fingers made contact with the sphere. The sphere remained dark for a long moment. Just as she had given up, a stone began to glow. She ran her fingers on the stone and it fell out of the column, into her hand.
I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding as she stepped into formation, smiling, taking her place near me.
“Aspira Claudet Felint” The voice rang out over the arena.
Claudet confidently broke ranks and marched to the Warden, saluting her. She had been near the top of the rankings for all the training sessions of the Crucible over the last two months. Claudet didn’t hesitate, placing her hand fully on the orb.
Nothing.
The sphere didn’t flicker. Didn’t glow.
“Come on.” A gritted whisper.
In the formation, fingers crossed and echoes of Claudet’s “Come on” pulsed through the nineteen women.
Still nothing.
A Warden stepped forward and pulled Claudet from the orb. Two Soldiers flanked her and swiftly escorted her from the arena.
The Warden’s face held a flicker of shock as she pulled the next stone, handing it to the elder. “Aspira Talen Malak”
Talen’s face blanched. Claudet had been one of the best, with some of the highest scores. Well, her and Varnell had been neck and neck.
Talen ranked near the bottom of the group. If Claudet had been rejected, Talen knew she had no hope.
Dragging her boots on the stone, she moved as someone going to her execution. Trembling, she saluted the elder Warden and reached her hand to the sphere.
“Go on, touch the Sphere”
“I…I can’t” Tears welled up, Talen’s voice trembled, barely above a whisper.
“You refuse?” The statement from the Warden was gentle, softly encouraging.
“I…I just can’t” She dropped her hand, stepping back. “I don’t...don’t feel like I’d be worthy.” Her voice cracked.
“Understood.” The Wardens faces were soft.
Two Soldiers flanked her protectively as they escorted her through the gates leading out of the arena.
One by one, each Aspira stepped to the Sphere as the Warden called her name. Some stepped forward with trembling hands and were granted a stone. Most Aspira hesitated, slowly reaching to the Sphere, though a few showed no such doubt. Several had touched to stone only to be met with silence, escorted away between silent Soldiers. A handful never touched it at all, their fear outweighing their hope. For those who never touched it, their burden would linger, always wondering if they would have been found worthy had their fear and doubts at that moment not stayed their hand.
Two name stones remained in the bowl. The five Aspira who had claimed their stones from Sphere, stood behind the last two candidates: Jessa Varnell and Dareya Calderin.
“Give up, already, Calderin.” Jessa’s voice beside me was soft, barely above a whisper, but it dripped with poison. “You don’t belong. Your presence is embarrassing both to yourself and to the Order.”
“When a dragon chooses, it won’t care your pedigree.” My voice was low, but steady.
Jessa laughed, cold and sharp. “Oh, but dragons do sense weakness. And desperation.” She raised her voice slightly, pitching it to the highborn audience behind them. “Watch closely. Our little frontier girl is about to learn the hard way.”
Titters rippled through the five women holding stones.
“Jessa Varnell.” The Warden glared in Jessa’s direction. Jessa looked to the Warden, her eyes flaring with false innocence, her smirk never faltering.
“Jessa Varnell.” The Warden’s voice rang out again, sharp and clear across the arena, her eyes locking on Jessa, her stare daring her to try something clever.
Jessa stepped forward, all grace and arrogance. Her movements were those of a woman certain of her fate. She gave the Warden a clipped salute and, without hesitation, placed her hand on the Sphere, practically slapping it down.
Nothing.
Seconds passed.
Then a hesitant flicker from below a finger, an amber glow spidered across the Sphere.
A stone glowed a brilliant blue as it dropped into Jessa’s waiting hand. Jessa held up her stone, basking in the approval of the waiting crowd.
“Try not to cry when it stays dark.” She murmured, shoulder checking me, her smile a knife.
But heat coiled behind my ribs. I didn’t dare flinch, although each breath felt shallow, unsatisfying.
Now only one name stone remained.
The tremor beneath my boots grew stronger. The dragons were fast approaching the arena.
And the Wardens had not yet called my name.
Love this. The description of the dragons being let loose was felt!
It’s so fun! I’m hooked