The dragon’s weakest rider

1

The factory horn blasted through the streets.

Once.

Twice.

Then a third time. The final call. The doors began to close slowly.

“No… please not yet!”

Eryx Varyn shoved through the crowd of workers filling into the iron gates, his boots slipping over loose stones as shoulders crashed into him from every direction.

“Move boy!”

Someone elbowed him hard enough to make him fall but he immediately steadied himself. Another cursed as he stumbled into their path, sweat dripping down his face.

Eryx had his eyes fixed on the narrowing gap between the closing gates, not noticing the looks of contempt on the workers’ faces as he walked passed them.

Please… let me make it.

This was the last factory in the Lower District still accepting applications this seasons. If they rejected him… he would have nowhere to go.

His brothers had made that painfully clear to him before he left that morning.

“Come back empty handed and don’t bother coming home at all.”

That memory seemed to shove more strength into him.

“I’m here!” He shouted, waving the worn-out application clutched in his trembling and sweaty hands. “Please wait!”

The gears groaned as the massive gates slowed just enough for him to squeeze through before they shut behind him with a deafening clang!

Eryx bent over, hands against his knees as he closed his eyes fighting to steadying his breathing.

“I… I made it.”

A shadow fell on him. A deep husky voice followed.

“You almost didn’t.”

Eryx looked up.

The gate guard stood over him, broad shouldered and middle aged, studying him with tired eyes rather than the disgust and contempt others had showed to him before.

For a brief moment, hope flickered. Perhaps, today would be different?

“Application?” The guard drawled out.

Eryx quickly handed over the folded document along with the fading identification badge hanging around his neck.

The guard reached for the badge first and within that instant, his expression changed. His eyes lingered on the almost faded black stamp on the metal.

DEAD PULSE.

He looked back at Eryx, pity in his gaze as he sighed quietly.

“So you are one of them?”

Knowing what he meant, Eryx lowered his head. This was a pattern. They found out what he really is and they send him away. The hope that he had instantly fizzled out.

After a long moment of silence, the guard returned the badge.

“You have been turned away before.”

Eryx gave a small nod. “Twenty four times.”

The words tasted like bile as he spoke. The guard stared at him for a few beats before asking.

“Why do you keep doing this to yourself?”

Eryx blinded, confusion etched on his face. No one had ever asked him that before.

“I have no choice,” he answered after a long pause. “If I don’t earn my food, I will starve.”

His hands tightened around his badge, eyes filled with determination.

“I want to stop being a burden.”

Something in the guard’s face softened. He had seen several applicants like him, struggling to survive but the world was cruel, very cruel especially to people like Eryx.

“The office is down the hall,” the guard said before slowly lowering his voice. “I’m not supposed to be telling you this, but don’t get your hopes too high.”

Eryx gave an appreciative nod and smiled.

“Thank you.”

The guard watched him walk away while shaking his head.

He already knew how this would end. He had seen it way too many times.

…

“Next!”

The application office buzzled with quiet conversations. Everyone had hopeful gazes on as they watched the clerk. Some began to discuss excitedly about wages.

Others discussed about which workshop they wished to join. In all of this, Eryx say alone not like he wanted to but immediately one of them took a glance at his badge, they scurried away.

“Number thirty eight!”

One applicant stood up and walked straight to the clerk, handing in his application letter.

A few minutes later, the soft slap of a stamp on the paper echoed.

“Accepted.”

Soft cheers erupted.

“Number thirty nine?”

The same happened.

“Accepted!”

Hope instantly swelled inside Eryx’s chest again, he had shoved the guard’s advice to the back of his head. Today will be different.

Maybe…

Just maybe…

“Forty one?”

Eryx stood up quickly, his heart rapidly beating in his chest as he walked forward.

“That’s… that’s me,” he stuttered.

The clerk barely looked up at him before saying, “Application?”

Eryx placed his application in the clerk’s hands, watching with anticipation and anxiety as he walked him read through it.

His pulse quickened.

For the first time in months, someone was actually reading his application!

The clerk nodded once, a glint of satisfaction in his eyes.

“You have worked the docks?”

“Only unloading deliveries, sir.”

The clerk gave a small nod before turning the page.

“You can read?”

“Enough to follow maintenance manuals.”

That response earned him another nod. Eryx’s face brightened up.

Maybe today was his lucky day.

The clerk finished reached the final page and his eyes stopped. He glanced up slowly at the identification badge hanging around Eryx’s neck.

His face instantly darkened slightly with disgust.

“Dead pulse!”

His words echoed inside the office, others immediately stopped their bickering and stared up at them.

The clerk instantly tore the application into shreds. The sound was like a knife stabbed into Eryx’s heart as he watched the clerk discard his application into the dustbin.

“You didn’t even read my application to the end,” Eryx said, trying to stop his voice from breaking.

The clerk raised a brow in annoyance. “Get out of here kid. We don’t need someone like you. You all bag of bones and with Dead Pulse effect, what good could you be of around here? You would be a liability. Get lost!”

Around them, dozens of applicants stood in a line. Some avoided looking at Eryx like he was a plague while others openly stared and smirked.

The words seemed to stab deep into Eryx’s heart, but he had no other place to go.

“I can carry loads,” he pleaded, his eyes glistening with tears. “I can clean equipment. I can work longer hours if necessary. You don’t have to pay me the same as everyone else.”

He received nothing but silence.

“Half is enough.”

The clerk slammed his palm hard against the desk.

“Ain’t you listening to me? You can’t even circulate enough mana to be able to activate the factory tools!”

“I will find a way.”

“Find somewhere else! Security!!!”

Someone in the line forcibly shoved Eryx away and he almost landed on his face. He bit back the bile in his throat as he walked towards the gates.

Outside, machines were roaring to life while the workers worked tirelessly.

Eryx pursed his lips in disappointment as he stared at his empty hands which had once held his application.

Twenty five.

Twenty five factories.

Twenty five rejections.

He let out a shaky breath and turned away, dread knotting in his stomach.

What would his family do to him now?