Authors: Jeffrey Johnson
Should she be this nervous? Should her legs be shaking this much? She thought if she got to this moment, then everything would be okay. But it wasn’t. Her heart felt like it might burst through her chest. Her lungs were struggling so hard to bring in air that she thought they might have abandoned her body. And her legs fought hard against the pull of the earth as she tried to keep herself standing.
She had dreamt of this moment. And now, it was here. With this one race, she would achieve almost everything she had ever wanted. But fear had somehow found her, trying in vain to rip her confidence from her body. She tried to fight it away. She tried to infuse her body and mind with the fire that has sustained her throughout the entire season. But that fire was being threatened. Fear . . . that pesky, unforeseeable force was trying to destroy it. She rubbed her hands together. And continued to rub, until the friction set her hands ablaze.
She tried to steady her breathing as the other riders were being called up to the tower. She knew she should be getting back to her dragon. But the importance of the moment had made her nauseous. She had wanted to be alone when she could no longer hold down the churnings of her stomach. So, she stood by herself, at the edge of the compound, surrounded by prairie and pasture. She forced herself to squat down to the grass. Roars shook the ground from a distance. Children, men, and women were applauding, cheering, and encouraging the efforts of each rider and their dragon, but who they were really there for . . . was her. She was their distraction. Their diversion from the brutal realities of life.
She was at the very edge of a circle reserved for an exclusive group of riders. Her admittance rested on the outcome of this one race. Win this race . . . and the door of opportunities opened up to her. Win this race . . . and she would be rewarded with an overwhelming advantage over countless others to further her career. She fell to the ground, on all fours, and puked up whatever her stomach didn’t expel before.
She wanted to cry. Why was she behaving like this? Why had pressure reduced to her to feeling so low? She pounded her fist on the ground. She hated acting like this. Hated feeling like this. She picked herself up and stared at her stomach contents with disgust.
You’re better than this, Areli
, she told herself,
get a grip on yourself.
She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and then wiped the acidic residue on the side of her pants. She walked back to the wooden holding pen, back to her dragon and her personal Academy trainer, her ears ringing from the noise.
“Are you okay?” asked her trainer, practically yelling, when Areli showed up again.
“Yeah,” yelled Areli, “I’m fine.”
“It’s just like any other race,” shouted her trainer, “just race. Just be yourself and you’ll be fine.” Areli nodded her head as she petted Kaia on the side. But they both knew this wasn’t like any other race. Losing had too many consequences. And winning, a vast amount of rewards. The entire holding-pen shuddered and vibrated as Areli continued to pet her dragon, sliding her hand gently across smooth sea-green skin. She playfully traced the many crimson splotches on Kaia’s skin with her fingers, trying to distance herself from the competition. But it was useless. The noise was too great. The energy too overwhelming.
No matter how hard she tried. She knew she wouldn’t be able to separate herself from the pressure of the situation. Or settle the dark feelings that rolled around like shards of a broken vase, chewing away at the lining of her intestines. She felt guilty and ashamed. Kaia was as fierce as they came, and now she was infecting her dragon with feelings that she had always fought to keep from her.
“Areli!” yelped her trainer, “Areli, we need to get you and Kaia ready.” Areli was pulled from her scattered thoughts and followed her trainer to the warm-up pen. Her mind tried to dismantle the anxiety building inside of her as they walked. As they entered through a pair of large oak doors, servants carrying ladders flooded around them. Areli hugged her trainer. She could feel her tension and apprehension as well. They were both aware that the events of today set the course for the rest of Areli’s future. Areli let go of her trainer, wishing that her unease could be as easily discarded. She then climbed up to Kaia’s saddle, took up the reins, and settled her feet into the stirrups.
“Remember, Areli,” screamed her trainer through funneled hands, “be fierce and Kaia will be fierce. Be confident and Kaia will be confident. Demand greatness and Kaia will give it to you.” Areli nodded her head, hoping her stomach would calm as her fingers held onto the leather. She was given no such reassurance.
Her legs tapped into Kaia’s side.
Stop it, Areli
, she scolded herself,
cease your shaking. Calm yourself. You’re going to have to calm yourself. Take the breaths like you were taught. Mind over matter, Areli. Mind over matter.
She led her dragon to the middle of the pen. Above her, two other dragons were warming up. Making perfect circles around a cylinder shaped room, built of rock and stone that stretched up to the far reaches of the sky. Areli kicked her dragon to join them.
Kaia leaned into the ground, her muscles storing energy for the release. It was quick. Not the elegant lift-offs that were taught, but an aggressive statement, like the battle dragons that roamed and ruined the lands. Kaia flapped her wings heavily as they reached further into the air. Areli’s breathing increased, but her lungs felt damp and heavy.
Stop, Areli
, she told herself. They flew through the centers of the invisible circles the other riders were making and then started making their own. Areli worked to loosen Kaia’s wings. She kept her outside leg nudged up against Kaia’s neck, and held the reins loosely and to the inside. She worked Kaia in both directions, alternating every five laps. As they warmed-up, Areli constantly looked down at the flames flickering on the stone floor below, displaying the next rider called to the tower.
The other riders exited out of the pen as the burning fires morphed into their assigned numbers. Areli’s lungs continued to shake, and her heart hurt to beat, but at least she found some of the tensions begin to subside as she now flew alone. She continued with the circles. She continued to plead with her nerves to relax. Her ears felt like they might explode, as the crowd could be heard through the walls. Areli thought the stone might crack and break. Their screams never ceased. Never took a break. They only seemed to grow, louder and louder. Areli looked down at the flames below. They had shifted. Now, they were in the shape of her number. They were calling her to the tower. The moment had come.
She could hear her name vibrate through the wall. The crowd’s anticipation was choking her. Her heart galloped and sprinted in her chest. She thought her lungs may not have the endurance to keep up. She dug her leg into Kaia’s side, and held the reins left and low. Kaia broke from their circle, cutting through the air and headed for the ground.
The wind curled through Areli’s hair, and she had to squint her eyes to keep them firmly in their sockets. Once near the bottom, Areli steered Kaia into a wood tunnel, complete with lanterns to guide their way to the exodus at the top.
When they neared the exit, Areli could see blue skies and white wisps of clouds. Once unhidden, the crowd’s excitement rivaled that of a child’s during gift-giving on their birthday. Their enthusiasm hit her like aged ale on an empty stomach. Areli had to fight to keep the reins loose as she circled Kaia once around the top of a massive oak tower, which served as the dive-point into the run.
Easy, Areli
, she told herself,
just be easy.
She gathered the reins into her hands and sunk her rump into the seat. With a few stabilizing flaps, Kaia was safely on the tower.
Her heart continued to tease her lungs, as if taunting them into a race. Areli felt sick again. Her stomach had somehow twisted itself into a series of knots that not even a sailor could undo. She felt lighthearted. She felt like she might faint. She reached for the saddlehorn, desperate to keep up with her mount.
You have to win
, she told herself,
you have to. You can’t be here anymore. This is your ticket, Areli. It comes only once this year.
She inched Kaia forward to the edge of the tower, her insides taking a knife to the knots. She let the wind play with her hair, wishing it would sweep away her qualms along with it. Plucking them from her like the seeds of a cloud-flower.
She let her eyes drift down to the coliseum, the source of the noise below. Three columns protruded out of its middle. Set into a perfect triangle. How she performs around those three columns decides her fate. How she performs around those three columns decides everything. All she waited on now were the horns. Telling her it was okay to go. Areli closed her eyes.
You are the best, Areli
, she told herself.
You are the greatest Column Racer in the world. Believe, Areli – believe in yourself. Believe in Kaia. Trust your instincts. Fight the fear building inside you. Rip it to shreds. Rekindle your fire. Place on top of it the biggest and driest of logs. Be fierce. Be quick. Be agile. For Kaia. For your future.
A horn was sounded from the coliseum. Volcanic cheers erupted from below, filling the skies with translucent ash, bearing the weight of her name. A second horn sounded. This one more near. Areli opened her eyes in time to see the gold instrument dropped from the lips of a servant next to her. It was time. All was a go. It was all on her now. She had always lived to race. But today. She had to race to live. And for both her and Kaia’s sake, the outcome could only be one thing.
She edged Kaia forward, until her dragon’s shortened claws hung off the side of the platform. Areli gave a kick . . . and then they were gone. Hopefully, racing for Oroin for the final time.
The wind was violent to Areli’s hair as if snapping and clawing at it like some vicious wild animal. It tried to gauge out her eyes, cleaning them from her skull, but Areli only fed it tears. As she and Kaia dove, Areli’s heart, her lungs, and every bone in her body fought to stay as one, as half of her felt like it was still stuck on the platform, and the other half was plummeting towards the ground.
Areli gave another kick. Kaia responded by spreading her wings, but only a few feet from her body. Wind gathered into the membranous sheaths and helped stabilize the drive, slowing them down enough to enter the alley connected to the coliseum, but not enough to ruin their run. Wind howled in Areli’s ear and then turned into a hiss, as she and Kaia flew through the wooden tunnel, inhabited by lanterns. With the swiftness of an arrow, they cleared through the alley and into the arena. Areli kept her back low, for she couldn’t grab the saddle horn and she didn’t want to be a victim of the wind.
She worked the leather in her fingers as she directed Kaia to the first column on the right. She felt the firmness of Kaia’s neck as she surged her calf into her dragon’s skin, commanding her to turn. Deft fingers of one hand were used to extend the reins to the inside, and the other urgently sought the saddle horn. The turns were devastatingly sharp and dreadfully jerky. If a rider failed to secure her mount before the turn, her parents would be left daughterless and ashamed. Their dragon, if alive, sold to slaughter.
The reins went back to their normal position. Areli’s hands holding them securely but gently. She kept them low, almost to the point of grazing her dragon’s skin. Areli kicked Kaia aggressively to the other side of the arena, as if cutting it perfectly in half. They flew in a matter of blinks to the second column.
Her hand went white, and her arm strained, as she kept herself from being thrown from the saddle as they rounded the column. Both hands found the reins again as they cleared through. Her legs tapped rapidly and forcefully against Kaia’s neck, with the speed and poise of rabbit’s feet’s being chased by carnivorous foes. They clipped through the air. Kaia’s wings going up and down harshly, yet gracefully, making flapping sounds that boomed in comparison to those of birds as they rushed towards the final column.
Areli held the reins out over Kaia’s shoulder, keeping them low, and pulled Kaia around the third. She had to kick Kaia hard now. She had to push her dragon as hard as she could be pushed. All that was left was the sprint back and through the alley. With the reins held only an inch from Kaia’s neck, Areli’s legs beating against Kaia’s skin, and her lips making exaggerated smooching noises, they cut through the air like a predatory bird towards its prey.
They cleared back through the alley. It was over. The pattern was complete. Areli found it unbearably hard to breathe as she and Kaia were now flying into open space. Every breath was truncated. Every heartbeat pounded with a skip. Eyes were watching her from below. Eyes were watching her from above. Her name was crowding out the air in the atmosphere. It was being pushed to every nook and cranny in her sector. It was a good run. It might have even been perfect.
She slowly directed Kaia back into the warm-up pen, using the tunnel next to the tower. Her trainer was already waiting. Tears raining from her eyes.
“What was our time?” shouted Areli, her mind whirling like the wind and her heart thumping against her sternum. Her trainer opened her mouth. But nothing was said. Or nothing could be heard. Only her name. It sang from every mouth present. It threatened to break every window and tear down every wall. Areli quickly descended the ladder. Her trainer hugged her, her body shaking from either sadness or joy.
“You did it, Areli!” yelled her trainer, holding Areli by the cheeks. It came out as a murmur, but Areli knew her trainer’s voice was straining to combat the crowd. “You and Kaia did it!”