Dragon Riders

Chapter One: Part Two Myra

Chapter 1

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Myra

Isle of the Blessed: Heartscale Temple

I was found in the Little Waste by the High Priestess herself. I was alone and frightened when she found me. Half-starved and almost dead she took me in.

The Little Waste is a spot on the Eastern Continent that is marked with active volcanoes and blackened rocks. The land has been uninhabited for centuries, and can no longer support life. The ground itself is hard, and is littered with black rocks.

As a result, I am different from every female on this island. My skin is darker than the others here, tougher than the others here. I am tougher than the others here.

The other Priestesses that I am now passing give me a second look.

“Praise be the Blessed.”

“Praise be the Blessed.”

As they pass me I hear the loud chimes of their bells as they scurry to get away from me. They know I am in trouble, though they might not have heard my punishment.

I start my long walk down to the pits in silence. I am allowed to get nothing from my quarters before I go; not that I would have time to anyway. I would have to go to the other side of HeartScale Temple. Instructions are to be carried out immediately unless told otherwise.

The Blessed Isle houses one of the smallest temples anywhere on the planet. It is the home of the High Priestess, who is the highest level of spiritual authority. She oversees all other temples, and as such has no time for inaccuracies.

The Blessed Isle is a lone island that has a temple built into a hollow volcano. Since the volcano is no longer active, we use the pits for storage.

The entrance to the pits is at the lowest point of the temple. Only one staircase leads to the pits and it is the least used. As a consequence, many of the torches remain unlit and the tapestries remain dusty for long periods of time. Many of us avoid this part of the temple if at all possible. It is cold, and very dark. The windows dwindle down to none the further down you go, until you rely solely on the few torches on the stone walls.

The pits are guarded by two massive black metal doors that are thousands of pounds. They remain locked at all times, unless we are letting someone in or -very rarely- out. Usually a Temple Mother sits by the doors to make sure they are closed at all times.

Many years before I was born, there was a breakout. The women who were locked up down below broke out, and almost completely killed off the other women in the temple.

Only the High Priestess survived.

As I approach the tall metal doors, I hear the frightened screams of the Acolytes and Temple Maidens beyond. I keep an even stride and raise my brows at the noise beyond the two doors.

Highly unusual.

The temple is barely noisy at all, even though we have children and daily prayers. SIlene is golden after all.

“Going in?” Asks an old Temple Mother.

“Yes mother.”

A frown tugs at her wrinkled mouth and she pulls a lever by her left hand.

“Praise be the Blessed.”

“Praise be the Blessed,” I respond.

My brown eyes widen at the locks twisting and moving to unlock themselves. It somehow reminds of the Holy Brazier in the main Prayer Chamber. The movements of the metal are smooth, much like flames.

“Have you never seen the doors before Priestess?”

I slightly shake my head no and the old Temple Mother smiles at my wonder.

“I never get tired of seeing it, no matter how many times it opens.”

I study the old Temple mother. Her white hair is pinned behind her head, and she has ten gold rings in her hair.

She has birthed ten children. How many made it into the temple is beyond my knowledge, but not my curiosity. I can’t imagine leaving here, and being an outcast in another country. That is the fate of all those who leave.

Why would you leave an assured security?

Food?

Purpose?

I snap my eyes back to her face as she starts to speak again.

“The rumor is that dwarves made the door and the castle as a gift.”

I feel my brows crinkling in confusion before I can stop myself. Dwarves died long before our religion was even founded-about 5,000 years ago.

“A gift for who?”

“For the Dragon Riders.”

Her white brows lift into her hairline, and I clasp my hands in my sleeves once again to hide my displeasure.

“Such topics are banned for a reason, Temple Mother. We know this well.”

Dragon Riders were selfish, and almost brought an end to The Empire with their willfulness. They refused to join the Empire and instead launched a 400 year war that led to their ultimate destruction.

How many lives were lost just because of their stubbornness?

How she can mention them so offhandedly is beyond me. She may also be close to her end. Her white hair signaling a possibly feeble mind. But since she has been a productive member of the temple, they must have given her this job.

The doors finish unlocking themselves, and open with a loud clack. They swing open to reveal another staircase, with no end insight.

“But do we really?”

I force myself through my pause and walk past the threshold into the pits.