Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Prior to August 16th, 2027, there was only one record in the history of the world of a human being struck by a meteorite. That rare “achievement” belonged to one Mrs. Ann Hodges in the year 1956. She was lying on her couch in her home in Alabama, taking a nap, when a grapefruit-sized meteorite crashed through her roof, bounced off a radio, and struck her hip, leaving a nasty bruise but making her the only confirmed person in history to be directly hit by a space rock.

By midnight on August 16th, 2027, that world record of a single injury became one injury and three fatalities. By the afternoon of August 17th, 2027, it was seven injuries and twenty-nine fatalities. By the morning of August 23, 2027, there were 26 injuries and one hundred fifty-six fatalities.

As far as Jessica Sinclaire was concerned, that number would only tick up by one more fatality, because she was pretty sure nobody was near enough to her to be injured by the meteorite that ended up smashing into her bedroom that afternoon in Wyoming.

It was around 2:30PM. Her father wouldn’t have been home from his job at the oil refinery for another three hours, and her brother had recently left for basic training in the army. As for neighbors, they didn’t have any. Their trailer was on a dusty old road in the middle of nowhere, with the single and greatest luxury available to them being the Starlink satellite dish, which she had begged her father to get her for her birthday.

Playing her MMORPGs was one of the only ways she got to connect with other human beings who were not either truck drivers or oil workers.

After the explosion, the next thing she could remember was waking up screaming, as if it were only a dream… except… where she ended up had to be the actual dream.

There was some kind of mask pulled over her face. It was heavy, and it felt like it was made of wood. She quickly ripped it off of herself and turned it around so she could look at it.

It had red skin with three white lines painted on each cheek like war paint. The mouth was open in a smile, no teeth, and there was a feathered headdress hanging off the back of it. The eyes and mouth were just hollow holes.

It startled her enough that she threw it away from herself as if she had just opened her hand to see a tarantula sitting in the middle of her palm. Then, she heard laughter.

“Elva! What’s ah matta whi’cha?” asked the concerned voice of an elderly woman.

Jessica looked up, seeing dozens of people wearing similar red masks, all laughing. The varying expressions of the masks and the echo it added to their jeering was nightmarish enough. But what made it even worse was the red sky above, and all across the horizon she saw sharp, black, jagged mountain peaks.

Naturally, she screamed again, trying to get her feet under herself as she scrambled away, but doing so in such a panic she just ended up falling face-first into the dusty ground.

“Elva! Elva!” the old woman’s voice said again, and then someone was grabbing her by her shoulders and shaking her. “Snap out of it, darling!” Then a bony hand slapped her promptly across the face.

It didn’t exactly calm her down as much as bring her to the tipping point of being able to react with any coherence. Yes, it was another of those red masks staring at her, this one with a more neutral expression despite the rows of sharp teeth crossing the mouth portion, and it was also carved with a bone going through its nose.

“That’s better.” The old woman said from behind the mask. She stood, the laughter from the other masked people petering out. “And if I hear anoth’a peep from the rest of ya’ there’s gonna be hell to pay. Ya’ understand?”

Jessica looked at her hands, trying to piece together where she was and just what the hell was going on. Then she heard a slight purring sound and the shuffling of odd footsteps as a shadow came over her.

She looked to her left, seeing a large creature with a bat face and wings staring at her. It let out another throaty purr and leaned its head forward, sniffing her.

“Ah-aah,” escaped weakly from Jessica’s throat. Then she screamed again, once again scrambling away. This time she managed to get her feet under herself in a proper run. “AAAAAAAAAHHHH!”

“Elva! Calm down, child!” the old woman called after her.

Her toe caught something in her panicked run, her body pitching forward suddenly before she slammed face-first into the ground again, this time hitting her head on a rock, and she instantly passed out.

***

It took a few days for Jessica—or, Elva Wyrmscar, as she learned her new name was—to accept the reality of her situation.

As unbelievable as it felt, and no matter how it absolutely defied all rationality, she knew she had somehow been transported to another world and taken over the life of this Elva person.

She may have had a harder time accepting this if it were not for the fact that her new body also came with a new set of memories. Elva was thirteen years old, three years younger than Jessica was in her first life when the meteorite killed her. She was the daughter of a legendary god slayer, and with that status came an attitude of superiority over her peers.

Apparently Elva was quite sure she would take naturally to learning to fly the Direwings—that is, those bat-like creatures with the lion tails—but things did not go as expected. Her peers were of course quite happy to see her knocked down a few pegs when she fell off. The only problem is, when she opened her eyes again, she was no longer Elva. She was Jessica.

Jessica, of course, knew better than to try to explain this to anyone. The head injury provided a convenient excuse for any odd behavior or confusion she exhibited while she adjusted to her new world.

Oh, and aside from the strange people with their strange customs, strange creatures, strange sky, and strange everything about this world, there was one more peculiarity.

“Check stats.”

Name: Elva Wyrmscar

Race: Human

Classes: Wyrmscar Descendant, Rider

Level: 1

Vitals

Health: 25/25

Mana: 30/30

Stamina: 30/30

Attributes

Strength: 2

Dexterity: 3

Vigor: 2

Attunement: 2

Luck: 4

Active Skills

None - -

Passive Skills

Basic Riding lvl 1

Traits

Wyrmscar Legacy lvl 1

The taming of monsters will become easier for you.

Apparently, there were some video-game-like mechanics to this world, and humans gain access to the “System” when they turn thirteen and gain their first classes. That had happened for Elva just a day before Jessica took over. Other than classes, she would get the ability to level up, earn titles, and learn skills.

Supposedly, all creatures of this world were affected by the System, but for “monsters” it was different. Monsters could follow evolution paths and transform their bodies, while humans did not possess this ability. Humans, instead, had the ability to learn classes, which could advance to similar, more impressive classes that came along with new skills and abilities. It was a bit of a mystery how monsters learned skills, but for humans it was always through their classes.

In any case, Elva was expected to advance above her peers quite quickly in this regard, but that ended up not being the case, which may have been Jessica’s fault.

After some initial bullying in this world, the other teens whom Elva apparently had gotten a bad reputation with started to back off a little more. Jessica’s control meant a new personality, and someone they didn’t feel particularly inclined to knock down a few pegs. She’d occasionally be challenged, but when everyone saw she was no longer the full-of-herself brat that they had grown to dislike, most decided it wasn’t worth their time and left her alone.

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After a month, Jessica had just started to get used to the rhythm of this strange new life when word came from her father.

“Elva,” her aunt barked one morning, rapping her knuckles on the side of the cot Jessica was sleeping in. In this culture, people did not have personalized bedrooms. “Up. Your father expects you.”

Her heart leapt into her throat. She had yet to meet him face-to-face in this life. Fragments of Elva’s memories gave her impressions—a towering man with a voice like rolling thunder and clawed scars that crossed his chest.

“Where?” she asked, her voice still groggy.

“Several mountain peaks over—the Hell Hounds have been defeated. He’s sent word that he’s got a gift for you.”

A gift? Jessica blinked.

In her first life, “gifts” from her father meant maybe an old paperback, a bag of second-hand clothes, or if she was really lucky, a new video game or controller for her console. From this father—a dragon rider, monster slayer, and half-myth in his own right—the word carried a weight she couldn’t begin to guess.

Jessica quickly dressed in the leather armor and tribal clothing that went overtop, then pulled on the heavy mask and headdress.

Her aunt led her to the stables. Walking through town, which was set amongst sharp inclines of mountains, there were thick bridges and ramps between landings and plateaus, making the hazardous environment surprisingly livable.

Most people were not wearing these masks, and there were plenty of citizens busying themselves with normal jobs such as selling food, tending fires, or mending gear. There was the constant ring of a blacksmith’s hammer somewhere in the distance.

The masked ones, however, moved with a different air. Even the adults would turn their gazes as Jessica passed, their hollow stares following her, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that behind the wood and paint, they were measuring her up.

Eventually her aunt led her across one of the thick rope bridges to a mountain that was used for a single purpose. It was the stable area, and high above it dozens of Direwings circled in the sky, sometimes making sudden movements towards each other. Jessica wasn’t sure if they were challenging each other or just playing.

Set into the mountain were several caves in which the Direwings were kept. As they made it to the landing and walked around down a slope, Jessica peeked into one of the caves to see several Direwings hanging upside down from hooks with their wings folded over their faces.

They made it down to a flatter area with several Direwings strung up with reins and saddles and tied to posts. They all looked content, though. Some lying on the ground, others drinking from the tub that was provided for them. Others, as Jessica walked by, made that throaty purring sound as they extended their necks curiously.

Jessica also noticed that each of them had metal bracelets on their legs, which she knew from Elva’s memories were infused with magic that allowed riders who knew the proper spells to either shock them to correct behavior or track them if they flew off.

“Alright, Elva, I had the stable master prepare one for you who’s been given a route to meet with your father. Just hold tight and don’t attempt to correct its course, and you should arrive safely.”

“W-Wait!” Jessica stammered. “You mean I’m flying alone?”

“Aye, of course you are.”

“I mean… Has my teacher spoken to you? I don’t know how to fly!” Jessica complained. It was no lie that she was absolutely the worst in her class.

Her aunt crouched down slightly to be closer to eye level with her. “Listen to me. If you show up in front of your father seeming afraid to fly alone, it will disgrace him in front of the army. Do you want that, child?”

“Better than me falling out of the sky, I’d bet.”

“Don’t get smart with me, Elva.” Though she couldn’t see her aunt’s face behind the mask’s goofy smile, she knew not to test her patience.

Another masked man came forward, leading a Direwing by its reins. “Alright, he’s all prepared just as asked.”

“Its bracelet is connected with my brother’s camp?” her aunt asked.

“Yes, it shall take young Elva right there.”

“Good.” Her aunt turned her mask towards her. The goofy grinning thing almost seemed to be mocking her as she pointed a thumb at the Direwing. “Hop on, child. No more delaying.”

Saddling up wasn’t the problem. Elva had plenty of practice doing that. It was the flying part that she struggled with. As she climbed on, the stable master whispered to her. He had witnessed her poor attempts at flying before. “Don’t worry, this one’s docile and good about staying on route. As long as you don’t yank the reins and confuse her, you’ll have no problems.”

“Thanks,” Jessica said back, taking the reins in her hands and positioning herself.

As the beast crouched, preparing to take off, her aunt called after her a little more caringly. “Best of luck, child! Fly safe!”

Then, without warning, the Direwing bounded twice on its powerful hind legs before hurling itself off the cliff edge. The ground fell away in a dizzying blur, mountain peaks wheeling around her as the beast plunged into open air. A scream tore loose from her throat, muffled only by the howling wind rushing past her mask.

The Direwing’s wings snapped in a single powerful stroke. The violent jolt yanked her stomach into her chest, but it steadied their fall. Another stroke. Then another. Soon, the beast was gliding, wings spread wide, the air catching beneath them and lifting them up over the rocky valleys below.

***

When Jessica found the courage to open her eyes, she found herself soaring above an incredible world. She had gotten glimpses of it in her failed flight lessons, but this was her first time past the peaks that immediately surrounded her town.

She saw lush green and grey forests, rivers, areas of molten magma, and flat barren lands. Finally, ascending upwards and flying between a row of particularly high mountain peaks, she saw a bowled area with a magical blue lake in the middle.

She then spotted an area with smoke from campfires and dozens of people and Direwings crowding around. But what caught her attention the most was the dragon that Elva’s memories told her belonged to her father and the corpse of a giant, three-headed dog.

The Direwing flew her down to the camp with no prompting, and she was met by another stableman with looser clothing and lacking armor. “Elva Wyrmscar, welcome,” he said with a slight bow as he grabbed the Direwing’s reins and petted the side of its neck. “Your father is right that way; he’s been awaiting your arrival.”

Jessica looked around at the warriors lazing around the area, chattering and laughing with each other. Glancing up at the monstrous dead dog a few landings up from her, she felt her heart sink in the horrible absurdity of it all.

“Th-Thank you,” she stammered as she climbed off, stumbling slightly with her legs feeling like jello once she made it to solid ground.

She walked through the camp until a familiar voice drew her to the giant of a man Elva’s memories told her was her father.

“As I said,” his voice rumbled from behind his mask. “You can take these three. I take one of the hounds. That was the deal.”

“The deal is we get five of the six!” another man complained.

As Jessica walked closer, she saw something that broke her heart. There were four black puppies in cages; all of them looked miserable. Behind them, a much larger black dog was tied down with net and rope all over her so that she could barely move an inch. There was even rope around her muzzle keeping it shut, though she forced her lips up enough to show fangs and growl softly. She looked exhausted, as if she had been like that for days.

“The deal was I get one. One pup is lost to the forest, likely dead, and one is missing. That means three remain for you.”

“I lost twenty of my men in this attack!” the other man complained.

“And I lost two of my Nightharriers,” her father retorted. “One does not fell a god without casualties. Now let me explain something.” His voice lost its patient tone, becoming harsher. “Take a look at that beast up there. Had we done nothing, there could very well have been eight of them running through this region in time, between the parents and the pups. You’ve lost twenty men? Ha! It is a bargain compared to what our children would have had to face if I hadn’t led the attack. Had my Nightharrier not snatched a pup to bait the beast into using its Ultimate Storm Skill, every single man you see here would have died the moment they came over those peaks.”

Then someone else whispered through their mask and pointed towards Jessica.

Instantly, her father swung around. The giant man spread his arms wide and let out a bellowing laugh as he came towards her. “My daughter!” Before she could react, he was scooping her off her feet. His voice was much more jovial now. “How was your first flight? Ah—and I must hear of your training. But first, I have a gift for you.”

“Ah-Aaaah—” Jessica stammered out. Her face was pressed tight against his chest armor; it smelled of iron, ash, and blood.

Then the next thing she knew, she was being placed on her feet in front of the four small cages with black pups all staring up at her through the bars.

Her father patted her on the back. “Go on! Choose! There are three boys and a female.”

“Just a minute!” the man he had been arguing with complained as he stepped forward. “I never—”

Her father put his hand forward, and with a flash of light, a spear appeared in his grasp. The tip of the blade materialized right at the man's throat with tiny sparks of purple energy trickling out. “I’ve not seen my daughter in months. If you spoil this moment for me, I shall kill you where you stand.” His voice was slow and surprisingly patient for the threat he delivered. “We take one, and I will no longer debate this with you. Do you understand?”

The man didn’t respond with words, but the nervous gulp that echoed from behind his mask said he understood.

“Now then,” her father’s tone became calm again as he gestured towards the pups. “Please, Elva. Choose.”

All four had glowing eyes; two were orange, one glowed pale green, and the last was white. They all looked so sad, and she had no interest in actually taking one.

“Um… I don’t know if…”

Suddenly the much larger dog, who was tied down by rope, began thrashing and growling wildly. It let out loud, accusatory barks. Jessica stepped back, seeing the hate in its eyes.

“Quiet down!” a masked man yelled, raising a pole with purple electricity sparking off of it. “I said quiet!” he roared as he then jabbed it into the mama dog’s side.

Her growls turned into painful whimpers as she continued to thrash.

Suddenly, the white-eyed pup spun around, her eyes suddenly glowing brighter before a beam shot out of them. It struck the man who was electrocuting her mother and knocked him off his feet, leaving his armor smoking where he was struck.

“Why you little,” he growled, standing up again. The mother dog had already fallen limp, and he now marched towards the white-eyed pup with the electric pole raised.

Jessica looked back and forth between him and her father, hoping he would step in and stop him. But no, her father may have had love for his own daughter, but he clearly did not care for these beasts.

“Stop!” Jessica yelled, running forward and diving on top of the cage to protect the pup inside. “Don’t hurt her!”

The man stopped, looking at her father; everything about his posture showed his confusion.

“Elva?” her father asked, as if her behavior was completely baffling him.

She thought quickly, trying to think how to not only explain herself but also stop them from hurting these animals anymore. They may have been considered “monsters” in this world, but where she was from, dogs were supposed to be protected!

“I-I uh—” Jessica stammered. “I choose this one! I want this one!” she quickly said.

“Ha! So you’re taking the female!” Her father laughed, crouching beside her and placing a big hand on her shoulder. “An excellent choice. This one seems to have a Path related to flight as well. Now, what will you name her?”

“Name… her…?” Jessica asked.

She stared at the pup, who glared back intensely. This certainly was nothing like getting a puppy on Christmas morning. She wanted to let the dog know that the second she got the chance, she would happily free her, and she would free the rest of her family too if she were able to.

Still, as she stared into those softly glowing white eyes, a name popped into her head. Almost like it was whispered to her.

Iris.

“Iris,” Jessica repeated.

“Huh?” her father gaffawed. “After a flower? It is not a very strong name.”

Jessica squared her shoulders and looked up at him. The words slipped out before she could stop them. “It’s strong enough.”

Her father tilted his head, the mask’s grim painted features making his silence unreadable. For a heartbeat, she thought she had said something wrong—that he would see through her and realize she was not really his daughter. Who knew what would happen to her then?

Instead, a low rumble and calm laughter came from his chest. “Very well. Iris, then. Strength is not always in the name itself, but in what it comes to mean.”

He stood, addressing the gathered men with a sweep of his arm. “My daughter has chosen! Her first mount shall be named Iris. Remember it well, warriors! Today Elva Wyrmscar takes her first step toward her destiny!”