The tales of old with dragons flying always excited Ariela. The stories told around the fire of those who did not fight the dragons but did something greater in deed, they rode them...

What if the tales of old were really not all forgotten, what if the dragons dead to the world were not dead at all, what if they were still out there, watching and waiting for the day to come when a rider would be chosen...


7. never to return

The tears blindingly peeled down my face, stinging my cheeks in the cold night air. I was trying to hide my pain but I could see that Atu could tell, she felt colder than usual. I wanted to heat myself up but for some reason I couldn't. I tried to scour my mind for something my parents had said about not being able to use my powers but instead I was taken back to a night long ago, around a fire, with my grandpa telling me stories.

~"and she dare not go into battle for she would be too weak" "but why would she be too weak papa?" "Because of her curse, each rider has a flaw to balance out their powers, otherwise, they would be unstoppable." "But what is her curse?" "Her curse is her loved ones, she holds them so dear and so close to her heart that she will do anything for them. If they were to get killed, she would be stricken with grief, that is the curse of the fire rider, her powers would not work as well especially if she had not undergone the full training." "But will she be ok?" My Grandpa then lent up close to me and whispered into me ear "that is up to you.." As I was about to ask what I meant my Grandpa held his fingers to my lips and told me never to mention to anyone what he said, it was our little secret... ~

He meant that I would be the next fire rider, he was pre-warning me before I would know what was to happen. It was my curse, my parents were now dead... At least that meant there was no one left that I loved alive. I would recover, it was only in the moment at which I was crippled. By the time we would reach the destination I was sure I would be fine.

The only problem was that I couldn't stop thinking about my parents. So I came up with a plan, it was how I was taught to deal with the death of my grandpa. I imagined a cage and inside were two little birds. One was the colour of fire, mergings of red and orange bathed the body with glints of good shimmering from the wings. It represented the firey passion of my father, the ability to fight for what he believed in and loved. The other bird was full of element blue and purple tones. It had stripes of gold and green metallic glints within her wings. It represented her calmness, the way she could extinguish a flame if needed, it was eleven they strong, could fight but could also reason well. They complimented each other. My parents had been perfect for each other. And together they had brought me up to be who I am today.

In my mind I then opened the cage, I let them fly, up and away, free forever. Then I shut the door of the cage so they can never return. There was no one in the cage now. The cage was my heart, and there was nobody left that I loved...

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