A Fifth Daughter [Book 1: The Dragon Rider]

Chapter ~ 8

~ Chapter 8: The Definition of Shopaholic ~

Butterflies take flight in my stomach. A terrible feeling that can only be conquered by ice cream, hot chocolate, or just getting over whatever is making me nervous. Considering I don't have either of the first two right now, I'll have to go with the latter. Okay, let's get this over with.

I pull the brown package from my bag and glare at it. I can barely remember my dad and I don't really like reminders of him, so I'm not exactly sure I want to open this and read whatever he's written down, because if he's just given me storybooks I might dig him up and bury him again.

Sighing, still glaring, I tear the thick brown paper away and two books slip out. One is a soft grey leather with the imprint of a quill, the other a royal blue with a fire breathing dragon. The pages of the grey journal are worn and the cover bent from overuse. Each leaf is covered in words, numbers, maps, and small sketches. It's the journal of a traveling journalist.

Everything about the royal blue book is in pristine condition, and it fights to be opened. I flip through it. All the pages are empty but the first two. I skim over the words and end up glaring some more.

'To my dearest Miracle, Aug. 26th

'I'm afraid I might not be around much longer and so, for my grown up child reading this, I say: "I'm sorry."

'Your mother has been given very strict orders to hand this and my journal over to you when you turn 15 and are preparing to leave the nest next year. But knowing Allied, she'll have held onto it a little longer. So I hope you are reading this and are about to begin your own adventures. We Greens have never been able to stay in one place long, and I do hope you gained that trait. Traveling will keep your mind open to the beauty of our world. I hope you take your place as a Dragon Rider and grow into the position that has been given to you.

'Oh, Miracle, there is so much I wish you knew, so much I wish you didn't, and no time to tell you what I want you to know and to help you forget what you shouldn't know. But, I guess it will be my fault that this doesn't happen. Your mother has warned me but I can't find any heart to not go through with it. By the time you read this, I will be gone.

'It is amazing what a man wishes to do when he is told he'll die. With the help from a Sage friend of mine, I know something not even doctors can tell me. This friend has narrowed down my death to the day; hour, minute, second, and apparently it will be raining. How kind of the heavens to cry for my departure.

'My journal is full of my journeys and memories. I know I haven't been a big part of your life, but I do hope you can be a part of mine through these scribbles.

'-Charles'

That's it. That's all my great, dead father had to say as an introduction; 'the heavens will cry for my departure?'

He even signed it Charles. Not dad or father, but Charles. I already feel distant from barely remembering him, and he isn't helping me get to know him better by being all proper about writing letters to his youngest daughter. He wrote it on my birthday, but when? The year I was born? He died the spring after my second birthday, did he know he'd die before that? Did he know I'd be a Dragon Rider since I was born? And how?

That sorry isn't helping him any – not after all the questions he's left me with.