"Quiet. I won't have you sullying our family name. Don't let yourself be swayed just because you finally have your dragon." Lord Dimmal wasn't happy. Based on what I've heard from Bide and what I'm seeing now, I like him a lot more. Bide spoke about how people often praise Lord Dimmal's kindness and how he always shows grace to people.

First, I'm surprised to hear that Donald is Dimmal's child. They don't resemble each other at all. Donald may be adopted, or his mother is a big woman, but he's still young, so maybe it's just baby fat. Who knows? However, I'm curious about his attitude. Bide was never as cocky as Donald is.

"Isn't it true that younger riders are easier to be influenced by their dragon?" I spun around, glaring at my father for thinking of speaking out such an idea.

"Daad!" My tongue slipped. Accidentally, I said dad instead of father. I can feel my face start to warm up. How embarrassing. "Don't say such things."

How can he say such a thing? There's no way a dragon can influence its rider. It's an equal partnership. No one can control or influence the other. Everyone knows that, and such a thing goes against the Order of Drake.

Drakelene follows the Order of Drake, the religion of all riders and dragons. Becoming a rider means pledging loyalty to the Matriarch, who lays the foundation of eggs for the dragons and is a lifeline to their deity, Omara, the Dragon God of Souls.

Lord Dimmal raises his hand at me. "It's alright, young Hunter. As bluntly as you put it, Mr. Hunter, yes, younger riders tend to be more swayed by their connection to their dragon.

Seriously? How? Wouldn't that undermine the Order? I swear it states that dragons and humans shall live and work together to conquer all who would threaten our home and the Order. Not one shall rule over the other.

"Younger riders tend to be more curious and open-minded, making it easier to influence their behavior and ideas," Lord Dimmal tells my father.

Seriously?

"I think that's just how kids are; I mean, how else are they supposed to learn anything if they have a thick skull?" My father responded with a loud chuckle.

I felt targeted. "Hey!" I yelled at him. I could almost feel his eyes glaring into me.

Donald scoffs as he turns around and leaves. "I'm perfectly fine. My dragon can't even talk yet, so how is he supposed to be influencing me?" Donald's dragon scurries after him, using its wings to pick up its legs for longer strides. Lord Dimmal shakes his head.

"I apologize for my son's behavior."

"It's not a problem, my Lord," my father responded, bowing to Lord Dimmal. I felt my father elbow me in the side, telling me I should bow before him too, so I did.

"You both don't need to bow before me," Lord Dimmal abruptly responded, raising his hands like he was pushing us away. "So, are you planning on attending the Festival of Soul?" I just realized Lord Dimmal's face wasn't as sharp as before. It was as if he just wanted to talk about something that wasn't a thorn in his side.

Before either of us could speak, Lord Dimmal's dragon started climbing down from the rooftop. It used its claws on its wings to grab onto the brick wall, allowing it to slowly descend with such finesse that it seemed only fitting for Lord Dimmal to have such a graceful partner. Guiding its wing around itself like a dress, covering its hide and torso from us. We could only see its long neck as it moved next to Lord Dimmal.

"Many other riders are coming here to celebrate the festival, so the sky should have the Rider's Aurora this year." Lord Dimmal's mention of the Aurora sent my heart to the roof.

"Father, come on, please, just this once. I want to see the Aurora—like the ones the summoned heroes spoke about." I jumped up with excitement and gave my father the best begging face that I could make.

"Stop it! You're scaring me!" My father rubbed the back of his head.

"Sure. Why not?"

We all looked up as dragons filled the sky, howling as they flew across the country.