Bullseye (A Dragonguard backstory for Maelstrom Redtail)

In the middle of an archery assessment, the long sleeves of Maelstrom’s ceremonial royal garb itched. An arrow was already pulled. He kept his gaze on the target. The breeze on his body was consistent at that height, but along the trip down to the central target, the cracks in the auditorium’s walls would dance like a mating pair of hawks. The ceremonial garb was the very sign of his royal lineage. He carried the very pride of his familial line on his back, a diving hawk of crimson flames brocaded into the gold. He was the only archer representing Redtail in the assessment. Maelstrom inhaled and kept the breath inside. He raised his chin and adjusted the shot waiting for the lower ribbons to whip back towards the sun. The exhale came slow but the release was quick.

The shot landed true, striking deep into the wooden bullseye. Cheers went up through the sandstone auditorium. Smiling, Maelstrom looked to the stands. Tyrus, his brother, pounded his heart with a triumphant fist. His father clapped and shouted along with his family. But his mother didn’t share in their revelry. She met his eyes with discipline. It was too early to celebrate, her eyes told him. But Maelstrom had struck a bullseye from the wall’s edge. It was the hardest standing shot in the competition. The dueling shots would end if his competition couldn’t match the feat.

On Maelstrom’s other side, Sulfia Daybreaker took her stance. She planted her feet wide, bouncing up and down to gather courage. Her long black hair was braided tight. She wore the same style of ceremonial garb, but it hugged her form. It had been tailored and constructed for this very event and would be sold once the competition was done. Such was the benefit of being born to the Archdomitor’s family. She twirled the arrow in her fingers and glanced over at Maelstrom. Her royal amber eyes were full of mirth. Sulfia steadied her feet and though she took her time, it was obvious which of the two took longer to prep the shot.

The arrow sailed high, trailing over wind guides and rider targets, and it seemed to be coming in too high. The arrow changed directions on its descent, pivoting down as if driven by divine right, and sunk into the bullseye. On her retreat, she glared at Maelstrom.

The two had attended the same preordinant school and could’ve been friends if she and her twin sister weren’t such sootfliers! They teased Maelstrom’s friend, Cherryl, to the point that the poorer noble had been driven to tears of righteous fury. Before the match, he’d promised Cherryl that he’d wipe that smirk off Sulfia’s face. But her confidence remained. With a flourish, Sulfia returned to her waiting circle and gestured for Maelstrom to go again.

Down below, light-skinned servants drove red-feathered daggers into the wooden targets. Sulfia’s second target was on the inside, working with the auditorium’s wind flow. Maelstrom’s was on the outside. Up in the stands, the daggers looked fairly placed, but they would only be fair if the targets were mirrored. Placed as they were, Maelstrom would have to shoot far and into the wind, but Sulfia could keep her shot mostly straight. If he missed the board, he would lose immediately. If the wind died down in the shot, he’d lose his chance at getting into Umber Ordinant.

Maelstrom aimed for the middle of the board.

~ ~ ~

“They cheated!” shouted Kaeric Quillborn. He was pacing back and forth in the auditorium halls, flailing his arms around while he enumerated their dissonance. The fifteen-year-old grew up in the same preordinant school as Maelstrom, Cherryl, and the Daybreaker twins. Though he was born to the purple house of wisdom, he boasted a courage that few could deny. Unfortunately that courage didn’t come with sense, and he’d attended the formal affair in courier’s riding leathers. “Even the lowborn know that fair bouts are mirrored, not copied!”

“Just let it go, Kaeric.” The downtrodden Cherryl Bloom stayed limp against a sandstone wall. The dim lights of the hall made her cherrywood eyes black. Unlike Kaeric, she’d dressed for the occasion, but as a non competitor, she’d worn a hand-me-down debutant’s gown from a decade Maelstrom dared not guess.

“How are we supposed to let it go!” Kaeric yelled at the wind. “I knew those Daybreakers would do anything to win, but I never thought they’d cheat!”

“Her grandfather is the Archdomitor of Courage.”

Maelstrom remained quiet, but reached out to silence Kaeric. He pulled his arm back, pacing further into the hall as he ranted with renewed vigor.

“Well, my granduncle is Archdomitor of Law. No man is above the law, not even the Dragon Knights! My family will make sure that the entire realm knows that Sulfia Daybreaker is a cheater.”

That’s when Sulfia decided to speak up. She’d been walking down the hall with her twin for nearly a minute, and any person that spoke with a reasonable register would’ve heard the clatter of their shoes. “A cheater? That’s a serious allegation, Quillborn.”

Kaeric had enough shame to blush, but scowled at the fifteen-year old girls once he met their eyes. “The servants put the daggers on the same side of the board.”

“The horrors we commit for our pride,” Sulfrei said to her sister, though she clearly intended her sardonic jape for all to hear.

“It’s a semi open arena!” Kaeric shouted. “The boards needed to be reflected to be fair.”

“It was in the rules, Quillborn. I’d assumed someone from your house would have the wisdom to read them before jumping to conclusions, but then that’s not a skill you’ve developed, is it?” Sulfrei tilted her head sideways.

Kaeric fumed as he stammered to come up with a comeback.

The twins walked past him and glanced at Maelstrom. Sulfia’s eyes asked if he wanted to make a scene as well, but he raised his chin in false confidence.

Kaeric decided to dig his grave deeper. “He still had a disadvantage. On any even match he would’ve won, especially without these puffy clothes!”

“Remind me, Quillborn, how high was the tower made from excuses?” Sulfia asked walking backwards to keep stride with her twin.

“Oh, don’t you quote-”

“Tall as the ground.”

“You’re tall as the ground! You grounded dirt-vendor that lives on the ground!” Kaeric shouted impotently at the passing victor.

Maelstrom and his friends were silent, until the sound of the women’s changing room door slammed shut. Cherryl placed a single hand on Maelstrom’s shoulder. He looked to his friend and found her somber eyes looking to him with pity.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” she asked.

Maelstrom shrugged. “They were right. I lost fair and square. Why are you upset about this anyway? This doesn’t affect you.”

“Because you’re my best friend.”

“I thought Indrine Soothill was your best friend.”

Maelstrom ignored Kaeric and answered Cherryl. “I know that you feel bad for me, but everything will be fine. I’ll attend Scriptmore and become a respectable Tail by the time I’m eighteen. Have you heard back about Pail Road Academy?”

She made a chuckle that sounded more somber than pleased. “I got accepted.”

“As target practice?” Kaeric asked.

“What? No!” She smacked Kaeric on the arm.

“Then why are you sad about that? You said that Pail Road was the best in the Heartland for becoming an Edler of the Hunt. Shouldn’t you be happy?”

“I am.” Cherryl sighed. She glanced at Kaeric before staring into Maelstrom’s eyes. “I just didn’t think we’d be able to go to the same Ordinant School. I could-”

“You’ll be back for holidays,” Maelstrom assured her with a smile. “Maybe I could visit you at the academy. It’s only a half day’s flight from here right?”

“A little less.” Her voice was soft. Stricken by the tenderness of her heart she looked to the etchings on the sandstone walls. As if moved by sympathy, locks of her black hair slid down to hide her face.

Kaeric dropped his hand on Cherryl. “I’ll be there too. I know how dim you get when I’m not around.”

“That’s really not necessary.” She took his hand off her shoulder.

He put it back. “It’s no problem.”

She rolled her eyes and looked to Maelstrom. He couldn’t help but smile at the pair. The untitled boy added his arm to Cherryl’s shoulder. The childhood friends made their way towards the skystables without saying a word. Maelstrom slid his arm over Cherryl until his chest met her arm, the friendly touch made intimate. Not to be left out, Kaeric added his entire arm to the pile, the trio walking like a crippled gecko.

“You know, Kaeric,” Maelstrom spoke up. “You’ll only be able to visit Cherryl if you don’t go to school far away.”

“What are you talking about? I’m going to be at Scriptmore with you.”

“You said your family wouldn’t let you attend,” said Cherryl.

“That’s why I didn’t tell them. I delivered the writ of admission myself.”

“Now I really want to stay,” Cherryl grumbled.

“It’ll only be for two years, maybe less,” Maelstrom said.

She wrapped her arms around Maelstrom’s chest, hugging him as they meandered down the hall. “You better visit.”

“I promise.”

~ ~ ~

Dragonback helped Maelstrom clear his head. When he was flying with Gleam, the towers of Feather’s Breath shrank. The wind pushed out the words of the past. Best of all, he wasn’t alone. The Fire Dragon under him was warm, his scales were smooth, and his flare for adventure kept Maelstrom from soaring among the clouds like a goose. Gleam was happy to be home. Sleeping anywhere but his stablebox did a number on the big guy’s stomach. This last trip to Umber was three days short of a week. By the end of the fifth day, Gleam had taken to chewing on rocks and logs. Sharp as his fangs were, they’d wear down without proper care, but he was ornery and disobedient. In a way, Gleam reminded Maelstrom of his friend, Kaeric. He supposed that was part of why he liked the dragon so much.

Gleam set the pace of their afternoon flight and he took Maelstrom into wing spins, nose dives, and full stalls. He’d come to a full stop, scream at the clouds, and do a modest reverse before climbing back to his peak. With the weather as wet as it was, Maelstrom didn’t have any trouble breathing. Some part of him knew that he should keep Gleam from testing his limits, but Maelstrom didn’t want to punish him. They were having fun together and the dragon was still only seven years besides. There’d be plenty of time to train him at Scriptmore Academy.

Maelstrom’s older brother Tyrus flew up to meet him. Both of their dragons were crimson-scaled flamesouls, but Tyrus’ was larger. The adult dragon’s horns had already started its second curve whereas Gleam was just starting his first. It made some stablehands mistake him for a female, but that nonsense ended the moment they saw Maelstrom. Though he’d had some problems with that when he kept his hair long like his brother’s. Turning Captain had changed Tyrus. He took his position of leadership seriously and wore his hair short like their father. Though he clearly took after their mother’s lithe features and not their barrel-chested father.

Tyrus pushed his mask of office to rest on his crown. “We need you at the homestead.”

Maelstrom untied the top straps of his family mask, the hawk of flames was made visible from the inside. “Why? Dad has tomorrow off.”

“Must you ask questions?” Tyrus asked a subordinate. Another change he’d picked up from his promotion.

“I’m fifteen, Tyrus. Soon enough I’ll be a man by law.” Mael raised his chin, ready to fight his older brother to earn the smallest measure of respect.

Tyurs considered the confrontation, but sighed to concede. “Father needs me for a trip.”

“Another secret mission?” Maelstrom guessed. Though he had no idea how long Tyrus had been attending his father on night flights, it had been going on for too long for either of them to hide the matter.

Rather than admit the truth, Tyrus looked away.

“I want to go.”

“No.”

“Tyrus, I-”

“No!” He snapped. “This isn’t something father wants you to know about. He wants you and Flit out of this. What we do…” Tyrus shook his head. “Mael, we could be executed as traitors for this. We can’t afford any grounded risks.”

“Like bringing in an untitled boy.” Maelstrom looked up.

“Like bringing in an untitled boy,” Tyrus agreed.

“Tyrus,” Maelstrom said to change the conversation. “When I was at the archery assessment, I choked. I saw that the final shot was difficult, so I aimed for the center instead of the target.”

It took a second for Tyrus to process this information, but when he did he gave a little nod. “You were scared you’d miss the board.”

“I was representing Redtail to our entire House. If I failed by disqualification I would’ve brought shame to father and to you. What if I’m not brave enough to be a Tail in the Crown’s Dragon? What if I’m a coward?”

“Maelstrom, we all act on fear sometimes, even father. When I was rejected from Umber Ordinant I got really dim. I didn’t practice my shots. I gave up on swordplay and stopped reading. I would just come out and fly all day.”

“I remember.”

“I was afraid of mom and dad. I didn’t want them to have a failure for a son. So I joined the Crown’s Dragon to be a Wing like father. I was back for Kingkneel after being at Scriptmore for almost a year and father drank with me. We’d shared a cup of blood wine before, but this was different. Dad got drunk with me.”

Maelstrom smiled. “Really? What was he like?”

Tyrus chuckled. “Funny. Dad actually likes to tell lots of jokes, but I don’t think Mom likes to hear them. He kept whispering them to me and then he’d drone on about flight formations the second mom entered the room.”

Maelstrom laughed.

The laughter faded on Tyrus’ face. He became pensive. “Dad told me that joining the Crown’s Dragon startled him. He thought I was going to be a Edler of Flight like I’d always talked about. He apologized to me for stealing my dream.”

Maelstrom burned the tears out of his heart.

“Sometimes the things that we’re afraid of aren’t real.” Tyrus grabbed his reins. “Come back and watch Flit for the night. You can send for your girlfriend after she’s fallen asleep.”

“I don’t have a girlfriend.”

Tyrus smiled at him.

“What?”

He shook his head. “Nothing. Let’s hurry back. The sooner the servants are sent away, the sooner father and I can be done with this.”

“You’ll be careful, right?”

“I’m the best flier in the realm. I’ll be fine.” He smiled at Maelstrom before flipping on his mask and descending with a barrel roll.

Maelstrom tied on his mask and followed him into the towers of the city.