White - Dragon-Ridden

Dragon-Ridden

By T.A. White

Copyright Tobey White, 2012

Allrights reserved

Table of Contents

It was cold. So cold. The kind thatsunk below the skin and dove straight for the bone. So deep she couldnt evenshiver. There was no sense of self or place, just a vast dark nothingness. Thesilence was so loud it practically screamed.

Ages passed, each moment the sameas before. In time, the tiny existence floating through the emptiness becameaware of a second presence. It curled itself around her like a shieldunyielding. And silent. Sometimes shed rail against its silence begging for aword, a feeling, anything. Through it all, the presence was a beacon of lightthat drew her like a moth to the flame. Sometimes it felt as if that light wassimply a shadow on her mind, created to keep her company as the long yearspassed. Real or not, she watched its glow with the hunger of a woman starvedfor thousands of years.

She couldnt tell you her name,what she was, or how she came to be. Her world revolved around that beacon oflight. It was a hypnotic and soothing distraction that flickered and danced inthe darkness just for her.

Time passed.

Pain ignited along her nerveendings. Startling, after an eternity of nothingness. The ground reeled beneathher as she shivered and convulsed. She prayed for the pain to end. An odd sortof keening began, assaulting ears used to silence. And then there was thethumping beat that was felt more than heard.

Her chest rose and fell. Thekeening developed into a pattern, one that started and stopped in time to herchests movements. The floor beneath her felt hard and unwelcoming. She shrankfrom it, rejecting the alien sensation. Something stirred against her skin, agentle kiss of sensation. Air, her mind supplied, it was air.

Her nerve endings were alive withsensation and spots danced across her closed eyelids. Her eyes opened slowlyand blinked rapidly against the encroaching light. She held up a hand againstthe assault. Unable to see anything but a blur, she closed her eyes seeking therelief of the previous dark. But the light was too much. It followed her. Evenwith her eyes closed, it sunk below the lids and seared her retinas.

Gradually, though, her eyesadjusted, and she stared curiously at the room she occupied. She was lying atthe bottom of a glass cylinder, one big enough to accommodate her curled upbody. Her knees were pulled to her chest, her arms hugging them close as shehid her face against her knees.

On weak arms she pushed herselfupright and propped herself against the glass. The pants and thin shirt shewore did nothing to provide warmth.

What was her name? She couldntremember. She was a somebody. Surely. Her mind grasped desperately at aword that might define her. After eons locked inside the emptiness, her mindwas slow to provide her information.

Name, she thought. Name. Name.Name.

And then, slowly, a word drifted upfrom the recesses of her mind. It was a short word, but it was hersnonetheless. Tate, her name was Tate.

The breeze caressed Tates face andarms, teasing several copper colored strands from its tight braid as she leanedagainst the ships railing. It brought with it the salty smell of the ocean, asmell shed become familiar with over the last eight months shed spent aboardthe Marauder. It was a comforting smell, one that invoked memories of beingrocked to sleep by the waves and sharing meals with friends.

She rubbed a finger over theweathered wood of the railing and folded her arms over it. It was time to makea decision. She grimaced and plopped her chin onto her folded arms. Shed spentthe last week lying awake at night, unable to sleep as she went over everydetail of her plan. Even now she didnt know if she had the courage to leavethe ship at the next port or if she would choose the familiar and stay.

What do you think? a voice saidto her right.

Guilt made Tate jumpy, and shetightened her grip on the rail as she straightened, not wanting her companionto know where her thoughts had strayed. Instead she made a noncommittal soundand hoped hed move along.

When I first saw the jewel of theAurelian Empire, I was in awe, he said about the city, resting tanned forearmsbeside hers on the rail. His tall figure dwarfed her considerably smaller one.Standing straight, she still only came up to his shoulder. It took awhile forme to see that it wasnt so different from other cities. Therere stillmurders, double dealings and, luckily for me, work for men intent on skulkingabout.

Is that so? Tate said, keepingher attention on the city coming into view.

The captain was right; it was amagnificent view. The sun was just coming up and dawn gently cradled the cityin its arms, setting it alight with orange and pinks. A slim peninsula embracedone side of the harbor forming a half crescent moon that was mirrored on theother side by high cliffs. It allowed a strip of open water that ships couldpass through before deepening into the wide pool that formed the harbor. On oneside a tower stood sentry. Its purpose was to house the massive chain that wasstrung across the harbor in times of siege and would protect the city from asea invasion. Framed by the tower and cliffs the city sprawled in a maze ofbuildings and streets. A palace with its majestic towers and gleaming windows,sat atop cliffs formed from a black rock that sparkled brilliantly in thesunlight. It was an architectural wonder, the crowning piece of the city, andpeople came from all over the empire to see it.

First time in Aurelia? he askedlightly.

She kept her sigh to herself. Itfigured that hed want to chat right then. He hadnt had much of a presence ondeck for the last few weeks, instead choosing to remain in his cabin and planthe next job. Now when she was thinking mutinous thoughts, he popped up like abad luck charm. And leaving the ship would mean mutiny in his eyes. Since shehadnt exactly volunteered to get on his ship in the first place, she saw herdeparture more as a continuation of her lifes journey. He, on the other hand,would see it as a revolt. It wasnt that she wanted to leave, quite theopposite in fact. She loved the freedom of being on the open seas and seeingthe world one countrys port at a time. But it had been made abundantly clearto her over the last few months that there was only so much weirdness a crewcould take, especially from a female. When members of the crew cornered her inher bunk and told her to leave or else, Tate had gotten the message. Being afemale on an all-male crew was difficult enough. Add odd things happening whenshe was around and the situation was impossible. Shed considered telling thecaptain. He might have even come to her rescue, but she knew that hisinvolvement would only turn the rest of the men against her.

She was in danger if she stayed andmore if she didnt. There was no doubt in her mind that the captain would hunther down if she left. Shed seen him do it before when a man jumped shipwithout a word in her third month on ship. She still had nightmares about whattheyd done to him.

Tate faked a grin as she looked upat the captain. A tall man, his face was tanned and showed his age in theweathered lines around his eyes and mouth. Captain Josts brown eyes werefastened on the city as the ships crew bustled around him, preparing to weighanchor.

Not that I remember, she said.

Jost stared at her with penetratingeyes. He was a canny old seadog, unused to not knowing a persons secrets.Tate, however, still remained a mystery to him. Hed picked her up about eightmonths ago wandering a strip of rocky shore not known for being settled byhumans, unable to speak any language hed ever heard, and hed heard a lot. Sheclaimed memory loss, her past before the ship a complete blank.

Thats right, he said softly asif hed forgotten. They both knew he hadnt. The mans mind was a steel trap.Nothing escaped. Its amazing how fast you picked up our language, he said,changing the subject. What language did you speak again?