A dragon without its rider is a tragedy.

A rider without their dragon is dead.

- Article One, Section One

The Dragon Rider's Codex



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Conscription Day is a fucking joke, especially if you're a marked one.

I stand at the entrance of the massive gates, tightening the straps of my pack as I leave the safety of the fortress, through the gates and into the chaos that awaits me.

Making my way towards the Riders line, I can feel the stares burning into my arm like tiny little daggers, good, stare, I lift my chin and glare right back, at least they know who to stay away from.

"Next" a voice calls from behind the wooden table that bears the rolls for the Riders Quadrant, I pick up the quill and sign my name, earning a judgmental stare from the roll keeper.



By the time I reach the top of the stairs all I can hear is the huffing and puffing of the people behind me, gods why would anyone voluntarily choose this.

The wind whips at my long, wavy, unbound hair, The Parapet looks even worse in person, it claims roughly 15 percent of the rider candidates every year and i'm beginning to see why.

"Ready for the next one Riorson?" My head snaps up immediately "Xade?" I say with a slight tremor in my voice, "Anastasia?"

Before I can respond, i'm pulled into a dark alcove, "By the gods Stas you look so grown up", he says before pulling me into a tight hug.

"I missed you big brother" I say burying my facing into his chest. "Missed you to Kahlia."

Xaden pulls away, grabbing my shoulders, " You should have cut your-" Xaden starts "No" I deadpan, looking him straight in the eyes, "I don't care."

Xaden rolls his eyes but doesn't protest, "How many daggers do you have?" "Seven, can I go please?" I say hugging him one more time, "Arms out, Eyes forward."

I nod turning towards The Parapet, "Oh and Anastasia, stay safe. Please" I look back at him, a smile creeping across my face.

Taking a deep breath, I step out onto the Parapet, throwing arms out wide. Xaden, Bodhi, Dad, Liam, Imogen, Garrick.

I repeat their names like a mantra, i'm doing this for them, I am going to survive for them.

The halfway mark is getting closer, wind slams into my back and my foot slips on the slick stone shit, my knee slams into the stone, I dig my nails into the parapet, Xaden, slowly I bring myself into a crouch.

Bodhi, keeping my legs steady I raise my body to a stand, Dad. Putting one foot in front of the other, I force my legs to keep moving, Liam, Imogen, Garrick.

The last 3 feet come into view and I sprint to safety. "Name" a redhead drawls, clearly bored, "Anastasia Riorson" I say, lifting my chin ever so slightly.

"Riorson? As in..." she trails off, staring me down intently. "Yes, can I go please" I say, annoyance tainting my voice, she nods turning to the next person.



I stand in the courtyard, taking in my surroundings. The courtyard is shaped like an angular teardrop, the rounded end is formed by a giant outer wall at least ten feet thick.

Along the sides are stone halls. There is a four story building carved into the mountain with a rounded end, academics, the one to the right must be the dorms.

The imposing rotunda linking the two buildings also serves as the entrance to the gathering hall, commons and library behind it.

Suddenly i'm swept into someones arms, what the "I missed you Anastasia" Liam says resting his chin on my head. I tilt my head up to get a good look at him, "Liam?"

"Watch it Liam, that's my cousin" Bodhi says, leveling Liam with a warning glare. Liam steps back, muttering to himself about how interesting the ground is.

"Seriously guys?" Imogen grins, tucking her pink hair behind her ear. "Of course Stas" Bodhi smirks, linking his arm through mine, "Plus we have to go anyways, it's starting.

As if on queue, Xaden and Garrick walk out from the turret, I smile at them just before turning to the dais.

"Three hundred and one of you have survived the parapet to become cadets today," Commandant Panchek starts with a politician's smile that I don't trust as he gestures to us. "Good job. Sixty-seven did not."

My chest clenches as my brain spins the calculation quickly. Almost twenty percent. Was it the rain? The wind? That's more than average. Sixty seven people died trying to get here.

"As the Codex says, now you begin the true crucible!" Panchek shouts, his voice carrying over the five hundred of us that I guess are in this courtyard.

"You will be tested by your superiors, hunted by your peers, and guided by your instincts. If you survive to Threshing, and if you are chosen, you will be riders. Then we'll see how many of you make it to graduation."

Apparently about a quarter of us will live to graduate, give or take a few on any year, and yet the Riders Quadrant is never short volunteers, that i'll never understand.

Every cadet in this courtyard thinks they have what it takes to be one of the elite, the very best Navarre has to offer...a dragon rider, yet most do not, it's sad almost.

"Your instructors will teach you," Panchek promises, his hand sweeping to the line of professors standing at the doors to the academic wing. "It's up to you how well you learn."

He swings his pointer finger at us. "Discipline falls to your units, and your wingleader is the last word. If I have to get involved..." A slow, sinister smile spreads across his face. "You don't want me involved, that sends an uncomfortable shiver down my spine.

"With that said, I'll leave you to your wingleaders. My best advice? Don't die." He walks off the dais with the executive commandant, leaving only the riders on the stone stage.

A brunette woman with wide shoulders and a scarred sneer stalks forward, the silver spikes on the shoulders of her uniform flashing in the sunlight. "I'm Nyra, the senior wingleader of the quadrant and the head of the First Wing. Section leaders and squad leaders, take your positions now."

I watch as Garrick weaves his way through the crowd to stand at the front, good for him.

"First Squad! Claw Section! First Wing!" Nyra calls out.

A man closer to the dais raises his hand.

"Cadets, when your name is called, take up formation behind your squad leader," Nyra instructs.

The redhead steps forward and begins calling names. One by one, cadets move from the crowd to the formation, and I keep count, making snap judgments based off clothing and arrogance. It looks like each squad will have about fifteen or sixteen people in it.

I'm called to Second Squad, Flame Section, Second Wing. I move towards formation quickly, ignoring the stares. Taking my beside Imogen, I survey my squadmates, there is a stunning girl with high cheekbones and oval face, she has dark skin and brown eyes. Her dark brown hair is worn in several rows of short braids.

There's a small girl with half silver hair, holy shit, that's Violet Sorrengail, I should have been able to tell by the way Imogen was glaring daggers at her, honestly I don't understand all that crap, it's not her fault our parents are dead.

Liam is called to Second Squad, Tail Section, Fourth Wing. Damnit, it would have been nice to have him with me. The sun is out in full now, scorching my skin.

When the order sounds, we all turn to face the dais, my gaze drifts to Xaden who looks like he's plotting Violets death, she lifts her chin.

I grin to myself, I like her already.

Then he says something to Second Wing's wingleader, and then every wingleader joins in on what's obviously a heated discussion.

"What do you think they're talking about?" the girl behind me whispers. "Quiet," the squad leader hisses, gods he sounds like an ass.

Finally, the wingleaders turn around to face us, and the slight tilt to Xaden's lips makes me instantly queasy.

"Dain Aetos, you and your squad will switch with Aura Beinhaven's," Nyra orders.

Wait. What? Who is Aura Beinhaven?

Dain nods, then turns to us. "Follow me." He says it once, then strides through formation, leaving us to scurry after him. We pass another squad on the way from...from...

I grin, we're moving to Fourth Wing. Xaden's wing, My brothers wing.

Nyra looks at Xaden as she finishes assignments, and he nods, stepping forward.

"You're all cadets now." Xaden's voice carries out over the courtyard, stronger than the others. "Take a look at your squad. These are the only people guaranteed by Codex not to kill you. But just because they can't end your life doesn't mean others won't. You want a dragon? Earn one." Most of the others cheer, but I keep my mouth shut.

Sixty-seven people fell or died in some other way today. Sixty-seven, whose parents would either collect their bodies or watch them be buried at the foot of the mountain under a simple stone.

I can't force myself to cheer for their loss.

"And I bet you feel pretty badass right now, don't you, first-years?" More cheers.

"You feel invincible after the parapet, don't you?" Xaden shouts. "You think you're untouchable! You're on the way to becoming the elite! The few! The chosen!"

Another round of cheers goes up with each declaration, louder and louder.

No. That's not just cheering, it's the sound of wings beating the air into submission.

"Oh gods, they're beautiful," the girl whispers behind me as they come into view-a riot of dragons.

Just when I think they're about to fly overhead, they pitch vertically, whip the air with their huge semi translucent wings, and stop, the gusts of wing-made wind so powerful that I nearly stagger backward as they land on the outer semicircular wall.

Their chest scales ripple with movement, and their razor-sharp talons dig into the edge of the wall on either side. Now I understand why the walls are ten feet thick. It's not a barrier. The edge of the fortress is a damned perch.

A few cadets scream.

Guess everyone wants to be a dragon rider until they're actually twenty feet away from one, every except people like me.

Steam blasts my face as the navy-blue one directly in front of me exhales through its wide nostrils. Its glistening blue horns rise above its head in an elegant, lethal sweep, and its wings flare momentarily before tucking in, the tip of their top joint crowned by a single fierce talon. Their tails are just as fatal, but I can't see them at this angle or even tell which breed of dragon each is without that clue.

There are three dragons in various shades of red, two shades of green, one orange, and the enormous navy one ahead of me. They're all massive, overshadowing the structure of the citadel as they narrow their golden eyes at us in absolute judgment.

A cadet bolts out of Third Wing, screaming as he makes a run for the stone keep behind us. We all turn to look as he sprints for the giant arched door at the center. I can almost see the words carved into the arch from here, but I already know . A dragon without its rider is a tragedy. A rider without their dragon is dead.

Once bonded, riders can't live without their dragons, but most dragons can live just fine after us. It's why they choose carefully, so they're not humiliated by picking a coward, not that a dragon would ever admit to making a mistake.

The red dragon on the left opens its vast mouth, revealing massive teeth. Fire erupts along its tongue, then shoots outward in a macabre blaze toward the fleeing cadet.

He's a pile of ash on the gravel before he can even make it to the shadow of the keep.

Sixty-eight dead.

Heat from the flames blasts the side of my face as I jerk my attention forward. More screaming sounds around me. I lock my jaw as hard as I can to keep quiet.

There are two more gusts of heat, one to my left and then another to my right.

Make that seventy.

The navy dragon seems to tilt its head at me, as if its narrowed golden eyes can see straight through me to the secrets I hold in my heart.

For Dad. The words repeat in my head, for dad.

I push my shoulders back and lift my chin.

The dragon blinks, which might be a sign of approval, or boredom, and looks away.

"Anyone else feel like changing their mind?" My brother shouts, scanning the remaining rows of cadets with the same shrewd gaze of the navy-blue dragon behind him, i'd bet thats his dragon. "No? Excellent. Roughly half of you will be dead by this time next summer." The formation is silent except for a few untimely sobs from my left. "A third of you again the year after that, and the same your last year. No one cares who your mommy or daddy is here. Even King Tauri's second son died during his Threshing. So tell me again, Do you feel invincible now that you've made it into the Riders Quadrant? Untouchable? Elite?"

I bet he enjoyed every second of that speech, stupid prick.

No one cheers.

Another blast of heat rushes-this time directly at my face-and every muscle in my body clenches, preparing for incineration. But it's not flames...just steam.

I level a glare at the navy dragon.

"Because you're not untouchable or special to them." Xaden points toward the navy dragon and leans forward slightly, like he's letting us in on a secret. "To them, you're just the prey."