Authors: Jeffrey Johnson
“Don’t worry,” said the bridle maker, “Jax’s silence, means you look absolutely ravishing.” He looked at the bridle maker with wide eyes and gaped mouth, making both the bridle and bit maker roar with laughter. Areli though, like the saddlemaker, was embarrassed. The driver closed the door, and then they returned to the trailer room.
Areli was escorted out of the carriage and to the front of the trailer, but before she left, the bridle maker gently took her hand and told her that they would be right behind her. Areli also asked to see her dragon before she was helped up next to the driver. Kaia moved her head down towards Areli’s hand that she slipped in-between the bars. Kaia looked magnificent. Happy.
After she was situated next to the trailer driver, Areli noticed that her trailer wasn’t the only one prepared to go. The untested and unwanted were preparing to go to their arenas as well, to hopefully find a way onto either the Academy or Hall teams for the following seasons. The younger riders looked towards Areli’s trailer with eyes full of wonder and amazement. Each confident that some day that would be them.
The older riders looked at Areli with resentment, envy, and jealousy. Their eyes sneered at her, and their lips silently hoped that a gust of wind would crush her and her dragon against a column. Areli took her attention away from them and faced her head towards her lap.
Her body rocked back and forth as the trailer wheels started to churn. They began moving forward. When they stopped again, they were in front of large doors with massive dragons inhabiting its exterior. Areli could feel her heartbeat inside her entire body as the doors began to open.
She closed her eyes and let the crack of sun caress her neck and cheeks. She let its rays travel passionately to her hands and allowed her skin to bathe in its warmth. The sun was so bright, she felt like the doorway might lead to a pathway to the stars. But as it opened further, the sky turned blue and the air turned still. The light highlighted the cracks on the smooth mountain wall to the right, in which the fissures were filled with precious metals, making it look like the mountain side had veins and arteries.
The doorway led to a bridge, built next to the mountain. Like all bridges in Abhi, the sides were graciously sculpted with story and coupled with beautifully rendered statues of dragons. The driver urged the trailer forward, and Areli gripped the seat, breathing in the fresh mountain air.
The bridge led to a large tunnel that was carved into the mountain itself. Outside the mountain tunnel, an extremely tall and wide limestone wall was constructed and connected to the black stone of the mountain. This wall was only one of many used to separate the individual practice arenas for each of the riders on the Hall team. They were built to such gargantuan dimensions as to allow maximum privacy for each rider. Past the initial eight arenas were three more arenas to be used by the Academy riders. Those particular arenas were shared between two teammates, in which one rider would have training privileges in the morning and the other in the afternoon. The last arenas were for the countless unwanted, unappreciated, and under-aged riders, in which each rider would only be allowed a handful of runs and training exercises, so as to accompany everyone.
The mountain tunnel itself was as beautifully constructed as the tunnel entrance into the Valley of Abhi. However, it didn’t have as many lanterns to highlight the many carved dragons in its metallic walls, and it was vastly much wider to allow space for wagons and carriages to be parked onto one side while still permitting traffic to pass through, unihibited, from either direction.
Trailers were next to each of the expansive doors on the left side of the tunnel, except for one. Areli knew the names that belonged to the first seven, and each one of them was fierce competition, as each one of them had World Race experience.
The trailer and the carriage took advantage of the wide pathway and did a wide U-turn, stopping next to the last of the tunnel doors, arena number eight. After Areli was helped down from the trailer, her eyes had a chance to inspect the guarded doors leading into her arena. Her breathing struggled again as she looked at the nameplate that was positioned above the doors, which carried her name in the same graceful script that was used for the plate above her locker. She had nothing like this in Sector D. Everything was either wood or stone.
She got Kaia and met up with the saddlemaker and bridle and bit maker.
“Shall we?” asked Jax. Areli smiled and nodded her head excitedly. Kaia mirrored her emotions, stroking her dull talons against the surface of limestone and shifting her weight back and forth between her front legs. After the guards had a chance to check Areli papers, they opened the doors which led into a large room with grey stone walls, marble floors and fireplaces, beautiful statues, luxurious couches, chairs and tables. The floor sparkled as crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling.
At the end of the room were two large windows and an extravagant double-door rising from the floor to the edges of the ceiling, leading to a beautiful limestone platform, complete with benches, tables, and chairs.
Areli swiftly swept through the room and out to the platform, keeping Kaia close to her side. She looked at the blue of the sky hovering above her as if held in place by the enormous travertine walls on either side of her. She then looked to the left, and then the right. Her arena was closed to anyone else’s eyes. Walls were raised as high as the mountain itself. Areli could tell they were immensely thick, as there was a long row of dragon statues on each side leading to the tremendous statue of Emperor Abhiraja situated in the middle of each wall.
Areli and Kaia walked to the edge of the platform and looked out at a sight she hadn’t seen since the day before leaving Oroin. It was sand, and it extended all the way to the wall at the end, which seemed to be hundreds of miles away. In the center of the man-made desert was a cluster of columns, three of them, made of marble – exact replicas of those used in the World Arena. They were arranged into a triangle, with the tip pointing directly away from her.
“It’s beautiful isn’t it,” said the bridle maker, now standing at Areli’s side.
“We never had anything like this,” said Areli.
“No
one
has anything like this,” said the bridle maker. Areli looked at her and smiled. She then looked back at Jax and the bit maker, and then her eyes caught hold of a gold line starting at the top of the door and extending upwards. She followed it, lifting her head, then straining her neck, and then she saw it . . . the elevation. The dive-point for the run. A considerable step-up from the oak tower at her old arena.
“You spotted it,” said the bridle maker, “it’s beautiful isn’t it. The same size of the World Arena, actually.”
“It’s wonderful,” responded Areli with eager anticipation. She desperately wanted to skip the rest of the fitting procedures and go straight to the dive, but she knew better. There was no way the saddlemaker would let her do such a thing until he was absolutely sure that the saddle he prepared was completely flawless.
“Okay, rider,” said the saddlemaker, “we are just going to do some light riding. All I want from you is a simple circle around the wall and back again. Absolutely no pattern work or I’ll see to it you’re grounded for a week.” Areli nodded her head and turned to the bridle maker with excitement.
To the saddlemaker’s behest, servants came flooding out of the side walls towards them, carrying a large ladder. They set it up next to Kaia’s left shoulder and held it for support. Areli put on her headgear, which consisted of gold fabric stitched into soft leather with diamonds and precious stones inhabiting the outer surface, and a hole in the back for Areli’s ponytail to flow out of. The bridle maker did a precursory check on the straps wrapped around Areli’s abdomen, making sure they were tight. She then made sure Areli’s headgear was secure, telling her she was going to do great.
Areli turned to the ladder and was reminded again by the saddlemaker that under no circumstances was she to do anything involving the pattern.
“If the saddle checks out,” said the saddlemaker, “a trainer will be in to work with you after we leave. I hope we have an understanding.” She told him
yes
with her head and started to climb up the steps.
With each raise of her legs, her heartbeat became more and more pronounced. She stepped into a stirrup, captured the saddle horn and positioned herself on top of the saddle. The reins were tossed to her, the cinch tightened, and then all those below stood back.
“Remember, rider,” said Jax, “just to the wall and back.” Areli didn’t mind if she couldn’t go through the pattern, or even dive from the top of the elevation, all she was interested in was getting back in the air.
She gave him a nod, and then dug her leg in the left side of Kaia’s shoulder, positioning her towards the sand. She loosened the reins around her fingers, allowing the leather to only lightly touch them. She gave Kaia a kick using both legs simultaneously and her dragon responded by expanding her wings as wide as she could. Areli decided to be a lady and perform the lift-off usually expected from female riders, instead of the one she preferred.
The flaps hovered over the saddlemaker and the bridle and bit maker like an oversized canopy used to cover a herd of elephants. Areli didn’t have to look behind her to know Kaia had her wings ready. She heard the swooshing and ruffling sound of her muscled arms, which looked like the hind legs of a grass hopper, that moved wings as tough as leather and as soft as silk.
Areli gave Kaia another kick and her dragon started to move her wings down, and then up. Kaia repeated this motion, slowly, and then gathered momentum. The crowd watching was pushed back by the force of the gathered air. Areli felt like she was on a draw bridge as her dragon started to lift into the air. Her dragon’s front feet left the ground first, followed by her hind legs.
Areli kicked Kaia forward, keeping the reins soft in her hands. They slowly crossed across the sands. Areli’s whole body was filled with joy. She’s missed this so much, and she knew Kaia missed it as much as her. They flew next to the wall. When it curved, Areli pushed Kaia’s left side with her outer leg and gently brought the reins over to the right shoulder, directing her dragon lightly. She didn’t know why, but the thought of Talon surfaced in her mind. Areli laughed to herself. She was a fool to think she needed love to be happy. All she needed was this. All she needed was Kaia.
Areli didn’t want to stop, but she could see Jax’s cupped hands and his overzealous motions directing her back towards him. Areli steered Kaia with the reins and her legs, so that they were directly above him. She tightened her hold on the leather strap connected to the gold bit and sunk down into the seat of her saddle, between the cantle and swell. Her dragon stopped her forward momentum and slowed the flapping of her wings. They were then back on the ground, Kaia’s hind legs touching the limestone first, followed by her front.
“So, rider,” said Jax approaching them, “how did she feel? Any slipping? Honesty rider, I must know.”
“It was good,” said Areli, with a smile, “it was really good.” The saddlemaker turned to the bridle and bit maker, looked them in the eyes, and then huddled them up in a little group. Areli watched them from the saddle and strained her ears to hear what they had to say. But she was too far up – and they were speaking too quietly.
The group separated and the bridle maker approached Areli and her dragon.
“If what you are saying is truthful,” said the bridle maker with a wink, “Jax says that the saddle is cleared, but me and the bit maker just have a few more questions.” Areli answered her questions about how the reins felt. She told the bridle maker they were great reins, if not the best reins she had ever used in her life. The slack in the reins was perfect and allowed for easy tension and release. Pleased with Areli’s answers, the bridle maker made room for the bit maker.
“Areli,” said the bit maker, “I know I mentioned that I wanted to try a couple of other bits . . . but I never seen a dragon like a bit more than the way Kaia likes that one. But to cover my bases, I am going to have to ask how it performed.” Areli told him that the bit executed in every way that it should, and that it exceeded even her highest expectations. Kaia reacted to each cue swiftly, and she could use exceptionally quiet hands to relay commands effectively. Areli complimented him tirelessly on his work. The bit maker flushed red from her words.
“Jax,” said Areli, “I just want you to know . . . your saddle is the best saddle I have ridden. Its construction is without equal.” Which wasn’t a hard feat to accomplish, since her old facilities saddlemakers weren’t nearly as talented. The saddlemaker responded with a nonchalant nod of his head, knowing his product was far superior to any made by another’s hands.
“Alright,” said the bridle maker, “I guess we can send for your trainer.”
“Are you not staying?” asked Areli. surprised.
“We are very busy,” said the saddlemaker. Areli asked them to wait and called forth the servants and the ladder. When she came down, she walked over to each of them and offered a hug. The bridle maker was easy to hug. The bit maker . . . awkward. And Jax – refused.
“I don’t do hugs,” said the saddlemaker, after he witnessed Areli embrace the other two, his arms crossed and his face constipated. Areli was grateful.
“Handshake then?” asked Areli, reaching out to him, cordially. He grudgingly took her hand, shook once, and quickly retracted his fingers.