Free (Dragonkin) Dragon Rider by C.E. Swain

robes. The staff he carried was the only thing that did not look common about his attire. It looked very old, and it had the head of a dragon carved into the top.
       He studied magic from the masters at the school in Tharien for twenty-four years, before being forced into service by Chidren and the armies of Arnoran. Darik's people did not owe an allegiance to the mage king, so his armies invaded Lorchant, and conscripted its men into service by force. Darik followed orders to protect his family back home, but lately, rumors were filtering in about whole villages that had been taken away to work as slave labor for Kath.
       His powers were far stronger than he let on to those around him, and though the leaders of Arnoran's army considered him a mid level mage, he was in fact, a master. When he was at the age of thirteen, he chose to study the ancient magic of dragon lore. No other students wished that knowledge, because it took far longer to master, and few of the masters who taught at the school knew it. Darik however, was quick to learn any spell or incantation that came his way, and though dragon lore was a more difficult magic to learn, it was also far more powerful. He was a master by the age of twenty-three, and a supreme master by the age of twenty-seven. No other mage in all of Lorchant had held that title at so young an age, but Darik also studied, and mastered, the common magic of the realm as well. He hoped to become a teacher at the school, so he could learn more from the ancient parchments and scrolls in the great library.
       Then the armies of Arnoran took him, along with all of the young mage's at the school. Hiding his true identity from those who would use his knowledge, he found himself separated from the others, and in the service of Chidren. That was more than two years ago, and now he was far from home, and in a strange land. He doubted that he would ever see Lorchant again, or the school at Tharien for that matter. Now it looked like his family had been taken as slaves as well. There was nothing to go back to, and the mention of dragon armor got his attention, though he showed no sign to Avren of his interest. He would make preparations during the night, and be ready to ride the next morning. The protection spells that he had chosen to use would take him a long time to complete, and he must be rested if he was to survive the trip. He sensed there was something ahead of him in the city of Glansford, where the dragons and their riders had lived so long ago. The magic he mastered had come from the dragons themselves, in the ancient times before the Great Dragon Empire had come to power. It was the dragon that was magic, and all magic, was known by dragons. This was the corner stone of the knowledge of dragon lore.
       It was late when Darik finished his preparations, and the spell was in place. It could not be broken by any other mage, or countered by any other spells, except by a dragon itself, and none of them had been seen in five hundred years. Tomorrow he would go with Finor and the warriors to see what Glansford and this warrior in dragon armor was all about. He believed that his destiny was somehow drawing him to the warrior, but he did not know why.

    *****

       Gaston led his men out of the camp that morning, before the sun's rays had reached the land around them. There were nineteen men counting himself in his unit now that Tarkrin was following Rylee, and he did not like it. His unit was set up to operate in ten man units, and Tarkrin was his best tracker. He thought it bad enough that he had to clean up after Avren, but to lose his best man while he did, angered him. He should be scouting ahead like Chidren had ordered, but Chidren had been called to Kath, and Avren had taken control of the camp in his absence.
       Two weeks had passed by the time that they reached the western crossroads, and found the graves behind the old guard shack. This was unexpected and unforeseen, and