The Arena Dust and rock shook loose and fell under the thunderous charge of a Copper adolescent. The dragon was chasing a small boy wearing a leather jerkin and trousers sewed and decorated with silver thread –signifying the boy was a rider of a silver dragon, though his silver dragon was nowhere to be seen. The silver dragons and their riders were unusually fast, and this particular boy was no exception. The boy glanced over his shoulder at the pursuing dragon. “You are fat and slow, rodent chaser,” shouted the boy. The words the boy shouted were not human words, or would even be recognized by most humans as a language. The sound that came from the boy’s mouth was as the wind flowing over the embers of a cooking fire. The boy was an offering given to the dragons shortly after his birth. He had learned to speak dragon even before he’d learned to speak the human tongue. “I will crush you, rat boy,” the Copper shouted in that crackling sound of the dragon’s language. The boy laughed as he dropped into a narrow crack in the floor of the corridor, created eons before by an earthquake. The copper dragon tried to follow, but came to an abrupt stop as its shoulders wedged against the sides of the fissure. The boy pressed himself flat against the ground at the bottom of the crevice, the Copper’s jaws snapping futilely only a few feet above him. The dragon, frustrated at not being able to reach the boy, spit at the boy’s face, but the boy had learned and obeyed his lessons well. Ointment from slippery elm leaf applied to his skin every day neutralized the acid in dragon saliva. “Go eat some sweet bark,” taunted the boy, wiping the saliva from his face. “Your breath stinks.” The Copper redoubled his efforts until he was only inches from his prize. The boy wiggled away and out of reach of the dragon. He climbed out of the crevice, looked down at the dragon, and then proceeded to empty his bladder on the upside-down dragon. The Copper would wiggle his way out, eventually, and there would be consequences later, but for now the dragon got what it deserved. The boy turned away, and ran back the way he’d come. He was only a speck among the massive worn columns that supported the ceiling high above. Ancient statues of great dragons watched silently as he ran. Another boy perhaps two summers older appeared ahead of him. The older boy was panting heavily as his head whipped side to side, searching. “Where’s my dragon?” demanded the older boy. “He’s resting. Next time check your saddle straps and you won’t fall off.” “I know you loosened them!” The younger boy only laughed and ran around the older boy. He knew the older boy, and knew he was lazy and skipped too many exercise sessions to be first in line for breakfast. Being a dragon rider didn’t mean you got to ride around all the time. When you were out in the desert, you walked beside your dragon, otherwise you’d tire out your dragon trying to carry you and all the supplies needed when in the desert, and then your dragon wouldn’t be able to fight if you got attacked, and then you’d be dead because you were too lazy to walk. He always carried his fair share of the supplies on the long grueling training marches the Marshal Dragon took the boys and dragons on, but he liked the marches. At night when everyone was burrowed in the sand between their dragon’s coiled bodies was his favorite time. He knew the other dragon/rider teams were nearby, but it felt like you were alone with just your dragon. And when it was time to sleep was the best. Dragons swam circles in the sand while they slept, after-all, they were sand dragons. The friction of the dragon against the sand caused the burrow to warm up – it was like sleeping on a gently rolling warm bed of water. He reached the main corridor – the ceiling so high you couldn’t even see it shrouded in the shadows. He ran his hand across the foot of the statue of the Great Golden Dragon Gethadar, founder of the dragon city. The foot was rubbed smooth from eons of dragons and riders rubbing the clawed stone foot for luck. The boy glanced up at the statue as he passed. “Thank you, I won another battle.” He hurried past, other boys on their dragons wanted to touch Gethadar’s foot also. There were a lot of boys on dragonback, and many on foot like him, having sent their dragons ahead to secure a good ledge in the arena while they finished morning chores in the kitchens, or latrines, and other places that never ran out of chores to do. He saw a friend on the back of a red dragon. The Reds were smaller dragons, but sturdy and capable of carrying multiple riders over vast distances. The Red Dragon teams were used to carry sick and injured riders to the hospital, or wounded riders away from a battlefield in the desert and back to a medical tent. His friend held out an arm as he approached. “Come on, you’ll be late.” He grabbed the offered arm and swung up behind his friend and onto the gurney fastened to the dragon’s back. The red dragon had a smooth gait, as if they were running on air, which was probably helpful when carrying a sick and nauseous person, or a wounded rider with an arrow sticking out of his side. The crowds rushing into the arena parted to the red dragon as they approached the arched gates of the arena. Generally, everyone gave way to a red dragon – you never knew when they were carrying an injured rider, or were on the way to pick up someone to take to the hospital. The Red Riders had bugles they were supposed to sound while carrying an injured person, but everyone knew it was best to just step to the side and let them pass regardless. One never knew when it was going to be you riding on the back of a red dragon, and the respect you gave now might affect the urgency later in which they carried you to a healer. The boy’s eyes tried to take in everything at once. The arena looked like everyone in the city was here today. The main fight today featured the golden titans of the dragon world. The gold dragons weren’t fighting out of anger, but to demonstrate skill and technique. Even older riders could benefit from watching the highly skilled golds fighting. The pre-fights had already started. Two Greens were in the center of the arena displaying skills that would take him many more years to master, and in front of each Clan’s section there were boys and young adults fighting for rank, status, or simply a better ledge in the sleeping caverns. And standing near each fight were several red dragons. The red dragons were the most beautiful dragons and he was fascinated with them. He’d caught a bad cough a few years ago, but didn’t need the big hospital. He’d been taken to one of the smaller infirmaries tended by younger red dragons and their riders still studying healing. That’s when he’d met his friend. Someday, when his friend earned the rank of Master Healer, he had said he wanted to continue his studies and become a Master Surgeon. The boy thanked his friend and jumped off the red dragon in front of his clan’s ledges. The first two tiers were reserved. The bottom ledge was always reserved for the eldest of dragons that could no longer climb up to the higher ledges, and then on the second tier lay the Nath Dragon Mother with all the very youngest dragons and boys still in the nursery and arranged to each side of her. He saw his dragon, Balanath, on the third tier and frowned. They had been on the fourth tier, but he’d lost a challenge fight against an older boy during the last arena gathering and dropped to the third tier. The tiers rose mostly in order of age, until the very top ledge with the great silver dragon, Talanath, leader of the Nath Clan. The boy’s eyes followed the top ledge around and saw all the other great dragon clan leaders – but the most spectacular was the largest ledge where the great gold King of Dragons lay with all his gold dragons arranged below him. Assembled in the arena was nearly the entire Northern Nation of Dragons. It was a splendid sight. He started the climb up to his dragon, but stopped on the second tier first. He detached a small pouch from his waist, and placed it on the pile of gifts all the riders and dragons had placed in front of the Nath Dragon Mother. The pouch contained some sweet meats, which was all a boy his age could afford. He remembered when he had sat on this ledge with mother waiting anxiously for her to begin giving the gifts out to the boys and dragons. Not all the gifts were sweet treats, the older riders and dragons would have given more expensive gifts. His first set of soft leather boots came from that pile of gifts. He wrapped his arms around her neck and gave her a hug while nuzzling his face against hers, as any proper dragon would. “Happy Arena Day, Mother.” She nipped at the side of his head, causing him to giggle. “Oh, my little Ka, smallest of riders, but bravest of hearts, did you answer Basteth’s insult?” Ka’s eyes widened. How did mother always know everything that was happening? “I didn’t use any weapons, and I never hit him, I know the rules. Fighting is only allowed in the arena.” “What did you do?” asked Mother. “I know he was the one that peed on my sleeping blankets. The rest of us had already left for morning exercise, but Jamanath was still cleaning the latrine. He saw Basteth come in and do it, so I lured him into a hole and he got stuck, then I peed on him.” Mother nodded approvingly. “Well done, you must never let such an insult to Nath Clan go unanswered, but prepare yourself for battle. Basteth will likely challenge you to fight today, and Balanath will not be allowed to help you.” Ka gave his mother a lopsided grin. “I’m ready.” “Balanath is waiting, go on now.” Ka nuzzled his face one more time against the Dragon Mother before scrambling up the rock face of the arena to where Balanath was waiting. He flopped down against the dragon, but had to wait a moment before speaking, as Balanath was trumpeting loudly at a particularly exceptional backflip one of the green dragons in the arena had just performed to avoid a bite. Balanath swiveled an eye to look at his rider. “Did it work?” Ka grinned. “Oh yes, he is really mad. I’m certain he’ll challenge me. Is everything ready?” The dragon grinned, showing two rows of lethal teeth. “I got here at midnight, so nobody saw me. Everything is ready, but you can’t win right away, you need to put on a good show of struggling against the larger foe.” “I’ll give them the best show ever, nobody will ever insult me again,” replied Ka. Balanath leaned affectionately into his rider. “When your human father placed you on my sand burrow, you were no bigger than the length of my claws, but I knew you would become a great warrior. Today, everyone will learn what I already know.” Ka pressed into his dragon. “My weapons?” “They are behind me,” said Balanath. The morning sun broke over the top of the arena. One of the green dragons fighting had timed his position perfectly to have his back to the sun. The other dragon was momentarily blinded, and the fight was over as he was seized by the tail and flipped onto his back. A set of powerful jaws clamped onto his neck. The Red Dragon officiating the fight thumped his tail three times and called the fight. The two dragons stood, lowered their heads to each other in respect before yielding the field. Boys with rakes ran out to smooth the sand for two Blues waiting their turn to fight. Ka cheered with the crowds – the Blues were magnificent fighters.