The Time Tournament (Order of the Dragon #1)

CHAPTER 25

Elena

October 1429

I grabbed Laszlo and Tarra’s hands. Tarra grabbed Soraya’s, and off we went down the hill. We jumped into the dance. I had no idea what I was doing but mimicked everyone else. I sweated through my dress, dancing and cheering. It was the most fun I’d had in years. Since becoming a rider, it was always “Killian this” and “Killian that.” Ugh. It felt good to ignore his grumpiness for once.

Afterward, we went over to the table and stuffed our faces with grapes and sweet cheese, washing it all down with red wine. Some might call it a gourmet meal.

“Friends, look who I found here,” Tarra said.

Laszlo, Soraya, and I turned, still working on our food with both cheeks full.

“It’s Rosalynd,” Tarra continued.

“It’s nice to see you’re doing better, Elena,” Rosalynd said. With her soft features and long blonde hair, she looked like an angel.

I took a minute to swallow my food, then said, “Thank you. Are you here alone?”

“No, my mother will perform today’s ritual of the Sacred Goddess.”

“You can always join us for a circle dance,” Tarra said.

“I’d love that,” she replied in an ever-so-soft tone. “Oh, Killian, you’re here.”

“Good evening, Rosalynd. How are you? How is your mother?” he asked, but considering she avoided his gaze, the relationship between them felt awkward.

“I’m good. Mother is preparing everything for tonight.” She blushed. Wait, she blushed?

Why would she even be interested in this brute? The silence became unbearable.

“Did you know today is Laszlo’s birthday?” I asked.

“Truly?” Rosalynd asked. “Then congratulations.”

Tarra gave Laszlo a hug, which threw him through a whirlpool of emotions. Poor kid. Pining for someone not interested in you had to be tough.

Suddenly, the music changed, becoming more solemn. We all automatically turned to witness the procession. People dispersed to create a path to the strawman. Only then did I notice a simple throne covered in flowers.

First to walk were Lord Valkorian and the head of the village. Following them was Rosalynd’s mother, Raisa, and finally, Darya began her slow walk. She wore a very fine white dress with a long train held by her sisters. She measured each step and kept her head high. In her hands, she held a bouquet of wildflowers. She truly looked like a goddess.

She took a seat on the flowery throne and closed her eyes for a moment. Only then did I realize she was pregnant. What an endearing picture. I could spot her husband as well, who looked at her with loving eyes from the crowd.

“Today we celebrate Darya’s consecration as Sacred Goddess,” the head of the village said.

Killian coughed, clearly annoyed. What was his problem?

“Healer Raisa, you are welcome to perform the ritual.”

Rosalynd’s mother lit a bunch of sage and began singing and mumbling. Sparks of fire danced over her head as Darya remained stoic, showing no emotions of happiness or nervousness. Only a serious look added to the solemnity of the ritual.

After much singing, Rosalynd and her mother placed a large flower crown on Darya’s head and bowed. Everyone else followed suit, except Killian.

Then a man lit the strawman on fire. The flames engulfed the straw statue with mesmerizing speed. The music resumed, and everyone danced around the burning man and the newly appointed goddess.

I never thought 1429 would be a great time to be alive, but I was wrong. The events that happened that evening would stay forever ingrained in my memory.

Tarra invited Killian to dance several times, but he declined, judging us from afar. I had to find out if he was my blanket supplier. As we continued to dance, I took a step back and let my dance neighbors join hands. Then I turned to Killian. He stood just as stoically and unimpressed as always.

“Commander, I have a question,” I said.

“What is it now, Rider Costin?” He downed a goblet of wine.

“Was it you who covered me with a blanket last night?” I asked.

“What nonsense you speak of? I was hunting last night until early morning.”

“I see. Wait, but isn’t it more dangerous for you to hunt at night? Especially alone?”

“I’m not sure how you can afford to inquire of your commander and assume there will be no punishment. Are you looking forward to doing pushups tonight?”

“But we’re not in training now.”

“War never waits. So I recommend, instead of worrying about a blanket, you focus on your training.”

“Yes, Commander,” I said more out of inertia. With slumped shoulders, I turned back to my friends. It was foolish of me to think he could do something nice. They comforted me while Tarra side-eyed Killian. Afterward, they pulled me into the circle dance, and I forgot all about it.

When dawn appeared behind the horizon, my feet were so swollen they barely fit in my boots. I could feel my lungs and heart bursting out of my chest. “That was a hell of a night,” I said to Tarra. “I hope next year will be the same.”

“It’s not done yet,” Tarra said.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“We have the second part of the ritual to perform,” she said.

“There’s more?” I jumped in excitement.

“Yes, we’re walking now to the Prismatic Lake.”

The Sacred Goddess rose from her throne and led the procession of people. We didn’t stray away from what everyone else was doing.

“But where is the Prismatic Lake?”

“An hour from here,” Tarra said.

Excitement buzzed through the air as we continued our walk. The path to the Prismatic Lake was illuminated by torches, casting a warm, golden glow on everyone’s faces. The sense of community and tradition was palpable, and for the first time in a long while, I felt truly at peace.

After yesterday’s four-mile ‘jog,’ this didn’t seem as far. The night’s festivities had worn us out, and now the silence among the crowd felt eerie.

As we reached the cliff, I had a sudden urge to see the Prismatic Lake, but Tarra grabbed my arm so tight it would probably bruise .

“Why can’t I go?” I asked.

“Not now,” she whispered.

Most people rushed ahead and lined up along the cliff’s edge. They parted, creating a path for Darya to step forward. The healers and the head of the village stayed in the crowd. Only her husband was allowed to join her in the ritual. They embraced, their foreheads touching gently—a tender gesture, yet their faces showed no joy.

“How do you want to do this?” the husband asked.

“I want to look in your eyes as I go,” she said.

They hugged once more, and then he lowered her on her back over the cliff and… let her go. What the fuck?

Everyone began chanting and raised their arms pleading for something. Were they out of their minds?

“Why are they doing this? I thought she was going to throw some flowers, not herself.”

Tarra didn’t answer and looked down. She knew this would happen, like everyone else. But she wanted to make Darya feel special.

The chanting continued. Some were crying, others looked hopeful. I squeezed through the crowd and finally saw the lake. But it wasn’t a regular lake—it was more like a swirling galaxy of pinks, purples, greens, and yellows. The colors shifted constantly in waves, unlike any other lake I’d ever seen. It resembled a whirlpool, but the rings formed from within the center. There wasn’t even a hole to justify the unnatural wave formation. There was no sign of Darya, only her beautiful flower crown floating above the rings .

Suddenly, the lake’s surface began to bubble and churn, before darkening to an ominous black.

Raisa appraised the change and said, “The Mother of Dragon was not chosen today.” The Taddeus family began wailing. Laszlo joined his sisters and aunts with whom he shared tears of loss. Slowly, one by one, the villagers headed back, and then I saw Killian. His face was stricken with pain. What kind of ritual was this?

“Tarra, what just happened? You must tell me.”

“This is how a Mother of the Dragon is chosen.”

“What? But why do they need to do it in such a cruel way?” I asked.

“Let’s head home.” She looked once more at the grieving family. “I’ll tell you all about it.”

We walked a good stretch through the woods. The numbness in my feet from last night’s dancing let me know. But truth be told, I just couldn’t wait any longer. I needed to know more. “Can we talk now? What is a Prismatic Lake?”

Tarra sighed. “It’s a place which holds a great concentration of magic. Hence, you can make weapons with it. It is said that at the bottom of the lake lives the Fire Goddess. Long ago, when humans pleaded for great power, she granted them the wish through the birth of a dragon. But in exchange for such great powers, humans had to sacrifice one of their own each year. There was never a guarantee who would become the next Mother of the Dragon. But once they had found theirs, as long as she lived, there wouldn’t be any sacrifices. Mother lived many years, and people had forgotten how cruel these rituals were.”

“How are these women chosen?”

“The best choice is always the pregnant wife of a dragon shifter. But if the lord or the princes don’t have one, then the next best thing is a pregnant woman part of an element-wielding family. Though it isn’t a requirement. Any pregnant woman could try her luck in exchange for her death.”

We stayed silent, weighing the cruelty of the situation.

“They are chosen from the five dragon houses. Each year, a different house is chosen. Except in the year when a Mother of Dragon dies. Then the same house gets the chance. But never before was a woman chosen twice from the same house.”

“So––”

“So everyone knew Darya would die.”

“That’s heartbreaking.”

“It had to be done.”

“Who chooses who goes next?”

“The Pure, usually. But they don’t know either. Only the Fates truly know. The Pure make their choice based on the highest likelihood.”

“Does the chosen woman need to be pregnant?”

“Yes, it’s in the folds of the prismwater that a dragon shifter is born.”

“What happens if you don’t perform the sacrifice?”

“They tried it before. The lake erupted and flooded everything with liquid fire. With so much death surrounding it, it’s strange to call it my birthplace.”

“So your mother did the same ritual?”

“Uh-huh, Mother became Mother of the Dragon when she jumped in the lake and resurfaced in a massive wave holding Killian in her hands. Two years later, she became pregnant again. A rare feat for a Mother of the Dragon. That’s how I was born.” She tightened her lips. “Isn’t it strange that in the same place where one must die, another can be born?”

“This must feel like such a burden.”

“Mother shielded us from it until she couldn’t anymore.” Tears flooded her eyes, but she wiped them away.

“You know you’re allowed to cry?” I grasped her hand. “You can cry till we get home. I’m not going to say a word.”

“Thank you.”

“What are friends for?”

We walked in silence, with only small hiccups interrupting us, when a strange rustling sound came from a pile of dead leaves.

“What could it be?” I grabbed Tarra’s arm. “Could it be a snake? I’m not afraid of them, but after last time, I wouldn’t want to meet one face to face.”

“It’s probably nothing.”

We continued our walk, but another noise emerged. This time, from a bush. “Someone must be following us.”

“No one would dare risk following a dragon shifter if they knew what’s coming,” Tarra, the badass dragon shifter, said. She took a step toward the noises and pushed aside a branch. A tiny lizard stuck its head out.

“Was this what you were afraid of?” Tarra asked.

“Well, I didn’t know it would be a lizard.”

“Let’s keep going. We have only a little bit left.”

We continued our foot-numbing journey when the same rustling sound started all over again. Was the lizard following us? I shooed her away a few times, but she continued to wiggle her little body from side to side just to stay closer to us. As we reached the Keep, I knelt and let her climb on me. Her body was mostly green, except her tail which had the same iridescent colors as the lake.

“She must’ve dipped her tail in prismwater. Some of the droplets must have splashed onto her body. Reptiles can survive the lake, but only when part of their body is touched by the prismwater.” Tarra admired her colors.

“She must be a very lucky lizard,” I said.

“For sure.”

“But now it’s time to go, little one,” I said, trying to gently pry her off my sleeve. But she clung on stubbornly. “She doesn’t want to leave.”

“At least someone was chosen today,” Tarra said bittersweetly.

“Should I keep her?” I wondered.

“Lizards like caves. There’s plenty of food for her as well. Keep her.”

“Then I’ll call her Patches.”

“A befitting name. Come, Mother of the Lizard. Let’s go home.”