(Dragonkin) Dragon Rider by C.E. Swain

pool, then disappeared under the rocks on the other side. There was something in the back of his mind, a shadow of a thought, or was it a voice. He could not tell for sure, but he would think about it later. Right now he was hungry, and the hunger was consuming his thoughts. It was passed time for him to feed, and there were grazing animals in the clearing below, he could smell them. He liked the fat little deer that he found here, they were easy to catch, and good to eat. His mind was filled with the thought of the tasty meat, and fresh blood just waiting there, as he arose from his bed, and walked to the pool. Drinking deeply, he turned and walked to the opening of the cave, stretched his wings, and leaped into the air. He would grab a buck in each front claw, eat his fill, and then he would think about the voice in his mind, he was sure now, it was a voice.
       After he gorged himself on the deer, and had rolled in the grass by the lake, he thought about the voice as it called to him. He was beginning to become aware of the magic that flowed through him, and the memories of the dragons that came before him as well. As he thought about the voice it came to him. It was his master calling, and he knew his name now, he had always known his name. They were born at the same time, and on the same day, and each had a part of the other inside him.
       Danorathin had reached his full size now, and was the biggest dragon ever to take to the skies. His deep bronze color was the first of its kind, and he was one third again, bigger than the brown dragons of the old empire. The brown dragon and his rider led the smaller, Tan, and gray dragons that made up the bulk of the squadrons of the Great Dragon Empire, into battle. The dragon and his rider stayed together always, dying at the same time when the dragon grew too old. Only when one dragon died was another born, and the riders were magically linked from birth to their dragons, living far beyond the lives of ordinary men.
       He took one last roll in the grass before launching into the air, gaining altitude with each stroke of his mighty wings. No dragon had died to make way for him in the world, as was the way of dragons, even though they always made sure their population stayed constant, to keep the flow of magic in check. The last five hundred years without dragons had caused the magic of the land to warp, and twist. The dark side of magic had a power all its own, but the evil of the spell Arnoran had used caused a rift in the flow of magic, and created the warp. Not until the evil of that spell was undone, would the land where it was cast be restored. The flow of magic was everywhere, and in everything that existed, but it was the dragon that held it in check. Without the dragon, the flow of magic would warp and twist, until it could no longer exist, and then all things magical would no longer be in the world of man. Several of the races in the lands were tied to magic, as well as many plants and animals. Magic was in the grass, and in the trees, and in the stones. It was in the water, and in the air, and in the very land around them, but most of all, it was in the dragon.
       The spell Arnoran used, captured the remains of the armies of the Great Dragon Empire, and the dragon's riders as well as their dragons, and froze them in that moment in time. With the dragons gone but not dead, the power, that the spell required, put Arnoran in a magical slumber instead of killing him. The balance of magic was changed, and in the end, Danorathin was born to reverse the changes created by the dragon's absence, along with another.
       Flying higher, and circling the lake as he gained altitude, Danorathin took one last look at the mountain and the cave that was his home since birth. The time had come to leave the hatching ground behind, and make the journey into the land of his master. Though he had never been out of the mountains and valleys of the ancient lands of his kind, he