The Legend of Kaise

By Seth Giolle

Jeres has spent a life time searching for that one place to feel truly free. Things haven't been going well of late. Life as a Dragon Rider didn't work out as planned, so she fled in search of a legend, the Legend of Kaise, the high seas pirate who once led a fleet of ships and ruled the free waters as its queen. She'd found Kaise Isle, and she's determined to know its secrets. With an attractive stranger and her reclusive Ividor Dragon at her side, she'd do just that and more.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Apr 2, 2017
• ISBN: 9781365866524

Seth Giolle

Seth Giolle was born on a small, rural farm in southeast Ontario. After Travelling throughout Canada in all its splendour, he once again makes Ontario his home.

Book preview

Soul

Chapter One

Introductions

Jeres closed her eyes and in and exhaled long. Cracking her neck, she flexed her shoulders before bringing her arms up and out, offering herself to the wind, leaning back against the dragon’s raised back.

Its neck was lowered enough where she sat to make it a secure space, and the thick neck was wide enough for her legs to grip. As much as the dragon dipped and veered left and right as it flew, as much as its neck, back and tail all got into the motions of flight, those motions were barely felt. There was little reason to expect anything but a smooth, safe flight.

And it wasn’t the first time she’d ridden a dragon. Yet, she couldn’t help but expect them to tip, and she’d fall off straight into the endless crashing seas whipping past below them. Even with her arms out to the wind in defiance, it didn’t help. No matter how many times she was on a dragon’s back, it always felt the same. Her stomach did loops, and her shoulder muscles tensed up.

Recent events had intensified that emotion.

She had to have faith. She did have faith she assured herself. The dragon knew what it was doing. That at least made one of them. She had to get over her fears. She knew that much. Why did it have to be so difficult?

She kept her eyes closed and tried to enjoy the sensation of wind washing over her.

The dragon dipped its head, its body following, and they arched low enough that the spray from seas was picked up and cast back. Jeres’ eyes popped open, and she instantly grabbed the leather straps before her. She wished again they’d attached the leg supports before taking off.

The dragon lifted back up into the blue again, and Jeres glared ahead. She knew the dragon was smiling, thoroughly enjoying the moment. It knew what it was doing alright. It was playing with her. There were thoughts, and she tried to close her mind to receive just what was sent. Like every other time, she got too much.

Pulling her mind back, she briskly shook her head. Why hadn’t she stayed in training? Right, that’s why. Always back to that one pivotal decision. A quick veer right had her back in the moment, and she glared ahead again.

Making the ride rough or dropping straight into the water won’t change the past, she groaned quietly, knowing the dragon could hear her words as clear as if she’d shouted them. People don’t get over things so easily, alright? Making things rough on me certainly won’t make things any easier.

As if in response, the dragon arched its back and spun. This time, it angled almost straight down towards the water. Jeres’ eyes popped open wider, her grip tightening, fingers going white, breath failing her.

The dragon rose again at the last second through a denser, soaking spray, then, evened out again about forty feet from sea level. Its commanding wingspan cast a wide shadow with its hooked tail curling between straighter stretches. Watchful eyes scanned ahead and aside from its horned snub-nose.

Jeres took a few calming breaths, swallowing more than she said. Nope, didn’t work, she replied stiffly. Still dealing.

Swallowing more unsaid curses about stubborn, prideful, way too playful dragons, Jeres fought the shiver aching to run through her several times over. She refused to give the dragon the satisfaction. Instead, she looked to her soaked cloak, pants, and boots. The hood was the only thing that was only a little wet. Just how had that worked out?

Jeres quickly checked the leather bag strapped into place behind where she sat. It looked wet, but the ties held strong, and there weren’t any openings. There was no reason to believe any water had gotten inside. It wasn’t her clothes or gear she was worried about.

They’d dry in time.

It was the journal stored within.

They were headed out to sea because of that journal. With any luck, it held all the clues she needed to discover truths no one had known for decades. Truths. And so much more. The journal had to be kept safe and dry.

Still holding onto the hand holds with a determined grip, she looked forward again. Endless blue with breaking white caps. The sky was a lighter shade of blue. There were clouds collecting on the horizon. A storm moving in? Maybe it would pass. They did that sometimes.

Where is it? she asked searchingly. How can an entire Isle go missing?

The dragon sent more thoughts, and she closed her eyes. It still hurt, just not as much.

I trust you know where you’re going, she grudgingly assured her companion. I just wish you’d hurry.

Brown specks appeared on the horizon. Jeres could feel her arms and legs going numb. The dragon was cloaking. She both loved yet hated when this happened. Breathing became difficult. Blinking a few times, she allowed this shiver to run her length.

Who are they? she managed.

There were no thoughts this time. There was a lift in flight to ensure they were clear of the galleons and trolleys that Jeres could now more clearly make out. A moment later, they were passing over the ships with their nets cast and anchors dropped, their crew scurrying about at their regular duties, unaware any dragon and its Rider had just passed anywhere near them. On an average day, even without its cloak, the dragon would have gone unnoticed. Its grey skin tone and white neck, underbelly, and under tail would have blended inside any average cloud cover. But blue sky wasn’t offering that natural camouflage.

The cloak lifted and feeling returned to Jeres’ limbs. She greedily took in a few lungfuls of air before looking back behind them. Four trolleys, one galleon. They were looking for something, and those nets weren’t fit for fish. They certainly weren’t filled with any.

A contented growl. Jeres turned forward to see something brown-green on the horizon this time. The closer they drew in, she made out toothy rocks that surrounded a lush Isle. There were a lot of old stone spars poking from the sea surrounding it. Closer still, she first made out the rocky shore, water beating hungrily on a coarse beach. The isle also had its allotment of sheer cliff and raised look out. There was a small cove, but it would be a tight fit for a boat of any real size to reach that cove in one piece.

A forest took over a big portion of the island, but there were clear paths to walk, and earth and stone were visible enough. It all centred around a low but wide mountain. Something extended out from a leftmost side the mountain. A house? It was a good hike up on that broken terrain, but the path up into those hills had been well trod.

Jeres smiled, then, shook her head.

Not this way. No.

She closed her eyes and nodded, doing her best to send thoughts forward.

The dragon snorted in response. There was a short circle airborne, Jeres dreading each moment not spent on the ground. They landed, and the dragon shook itself dry. That was when Jeres finally opened her eyes and knew she’d made the right choice.

She was there. She was actually there!

All anxiety forgotten, she loosened her pack and jumped down onto a damp, rocky shore. The dragon snorted derisively, and Jeres rolled her eyes. Before she could respond, she heard the footfall, and both Rider and dragon wheeled around, the dragon striking a defensive pose.

Claw-tipped wings were out, its grey back arched and nostrils flared. One step was taken above and over its charge. The man that stood half out from the fanned leaves along the grassy cliff to their left looked to that exposed foot as if rethinking whether or not his intrusion was a safe choice. Clearing his throat, he first smirked, then, shrugged and jumped down to beach level.

Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle anybody. Just happy I’m not alone.

Jeres considered the man’s weathered black boots - cuff, buckles, and water stains included. The pants looked comfortable, albeit in need of a good wash. The belt looked like it had been fashioned from the hem of a coat that was now a rag, as did the make-shift bandanna. The off-white shirt was a little large, but all he needed was a slip of a vest and thin rapier, and he’d be the model pirate. Without a ship?

A Southerner at that?

No human stood over seven feet that she’d ever met, not with this man’s matching muscular build. There weren’t any tan lines she noticed subconsciously. She found herself wondering what there was that she couldn’t see. Maybe he was this well built in other ways.

A rude thought flickered across, and she glared back. She was welcomed to her own reveries when on a tropical Isle, wasn’t she? The warning thought returned, and Jeres frowned. Fine. The dragon was right. She didn’t know who this man was or why he was there. Or how many friends he had that she couldn’t see, just waiting out of sight.

Were they as handsome as him?

What’s your name? she asked.

She cast a quick eye around the beach and its surrounding leaf and tree wall as she spoke. The mountain rose in the distance above that colourful forest. A snake slithered out from a beaten path, then back into the green, and a brightly coloured bird called from under tall branches above. Beyond that, there was nothing but the wind. Maybe their concern was just healthy paranoia.

Verrin, the man replied with a grin. My ship was dragged in too close to the Isle by a sudden squall. It was dashed onto the rocks out there. He wiped his face and shrugged. The next thing I knew, I was swimming for it. I found my way ashore alright, just not the way I’d hoped.

This isn’t the first pick for someone looking for rescue, Jeres countered playfully.

His story was a little too simple, but he had nice teeth.

I don’t even know where here is. I’ve been wandering around alone for at least a day, he offered, taking a few steps forward. Can I ask what kingdom your represent? Am I safe?

The dragon snorted out smoke and crouched a little. Its hooked tail flicked to one side cracking like a whip.

Verrin smiled gingerly and stepped back again.

I guess not. Let your dragon know I don’t mean you any harm, okay? he quickly added.

Not my dragon.

That was her first thought. It was instantly squashed, but it remained at the back of Jeres’ mind, and she knew the dragon felt it. The dragon didn’t move much, but there was a stiffening of its joints and lifting of the wings. Very proud. Protective, but easily insulted! Verrin stood with his arms out, quietly swallowing while Jeres considered what her next move would be.

The insult had been delivered. It was true. They weren’t bonded. Jeres wasn’t even sure why this dragon of all dragons had chosen to spend any time with her. Not her dragon, just a loyal helper, a companion. What did that make them? How did the dragon see their bond? That much had never been shared.

It was too late. Intended or not, the deed had been done. The insult had been passed.

She’s a little protective, Jeres finally replied. Maybe changing the subject would help. You’re a Southerner, descended of Barbarian. What would bring a Southerner out to sea to be taken by a storm in the first place? I thought your kind tended fields and chopped wood?

Verrin rolled his eyes, then, hung his head.

Thanks, he groaned. I haven’t heard that before.

Sorry.

Jeres muttered under her breath. Had she said something else wrong? This just wasn’t her day. This man wasn’t a threat, not as she saw it. Jeres passed her confidence in this meeting to the dragon as best she could. At least some of it got through. The dragon snorted louder, but it stepped back and turned, the hooked tail swinging around taking off the tops of three trees behind where Verrin stood.

The dragon with its grey scales and white underside faded from sight. There was a small wind storm that quickly abated. When it cleared, Jeres wiped her clothes clean and shrugged.

Sorry about that, Jeres repeated. Like I said, she’s a little protective.

Don’t worry about it, Verrin countered dismissively, smiling again. So you know where we are then? How lost am I?

Jeres picked up her pack and pulled her canteen from inside. What if I told you this was Thief Isle? Verrin smirked. Jeres took a drink and shrugged. You asked, she grumbled, stoppering her canteen again. I’ve got some exploring to do. It was nice meeting you.

She found a quick step off the beach headed inland along that beaten trail. How long would it take him to follow?

I think we should stay together, Verrin suggested, falling into step behind her.

Had that even been a second?

You don’t say, she teased.

You didn’t give your name, he noted offhandedly.

Jeres did her best to ignore the man. She was on Thief Isle in search of a great mystery that would make her and her father proud. She felt a lot more sure of herself than she’d felt for a long, long time. As such, she was thoroughly enjoying the moment.

She led the way batting nature aside as need be. The forest was looking a lot more like a jungle the further she walked. Fanned leaves mixed with tall, leafy branches, vines winding up or hanging down from a lot of the healthy growth up above. Something swung in the distance, and a flock of blue birds escaped some branches to their right. The smell was intoxicating. It was sweet, and for some reason, she was getting a buzz. The red and yellow blossoms to their left looked familiar. Where had she seen them before?

Well? Verrin pressed.

Oh, right, him.

Jeres, she replied with a smirk. My name’s Jeres.

And how old are you Jeres?

Jeres stopped to dig a hunting knife from a side pocket of her pack. The small belt and sheath were damp. The handle was damp for that matter, but the blade was still in good shape. She noticed Verrin watching her inspection of the knife closely and smiled.

Don’t worry, she mused, just making sure I’m ready for whatever might come at me. He stepped back and raised both hands. Twenty, she added quietly. Why do you ask?

She started walking again, strapping the knife to her right hip, watching a snake slither along a thick branch that reached out from deeper green. The patches suggested it was a constrictor. Its size and large bulge suggested it had already eaten. Or was currently eating. No direct danger, so she ignored it.

I ask, Verrin replied confidently, because I know of Riders to some extent. Jeres smirked uneasily, still enjoying the game but also now wondering where he was going with this line of questioning. I ask because from what I was told, Riders aren’t linked, fully linked with their dragons until they’re at least twenty-four or twenty-five. There’s supposed to be a few years of training in there first, isn’t there?

Not always, Jeres lied. It’s different for some Riders. That was at least somewhat true. Anyway, she continued quickly, it doesn’t matter how old I am. It simply matters that I am a Rider, right? Verrin offered a slight, hesitant nod. Then how about we get down to gear and food? I take it you lost everything when your boat hit the rocks?

I used up what little I got from the wreckage, Verrin grumbled, distractedly wiping his brow. What else I had is at the bottom of all that water, yes. And I’m very hungry, but I can hunt and get my own food.

Jeres figured his answer had been too quick. It was almost like it had been practised if not rehearsed. I’m sure you can, she replied with a nod. We won’t get up that mountain, or near the centre of the Isle today anyway. It’s too big for that. It’ll take us at least a few days, maybe just two if we’re lucky. What we’re looking for is a good place to sleep tonight. Did you come across anything that looked secure? Walls would be nice.

Verrin thought for a moment. Something crashed in the underbrush to their left, and Jeres’ hand went to her knife. A pinched wail and stealthy scampering took the sound away, and they started walking again, albeit more cautiously.

Secure from the locals? Verrin inquired.

Something like that.

There are ruins I came across, but that takes us down into a small vale.

Jeres followed where he pointed. Ruins? she asked, interest piqued.

"An old house, maybe a lookout or boat storage at