no title at the moment

Here is the first chapter of a book i'm working on....Does anyone have ideas for a title???




The moon was just beginning to show up from behind the clouds. There was a sudden gust of wind, the clouds shifted, and the whole moon suddenly showed up, a circle of white light in the dark sky.
A thousand miles away from the moon, a boy called Alistair woke with a start to the sharp crack of a dragon hatching from its egg.
At first he didn't realize where the noise had come from. He sat straight in his bed, looking out the window, trying to find the source of the sound. Then his eyes landed on the moon outside, and he understood. Alistair ran outside, looking for his dragon egg by moonlight, wanting to see it hatch.
He finally found it hidden behind a large snowdrift: a large egg, much like a chicken egg, but gold instead of white. He watched, thrilled, as he saw hid dragon's arm popping out of a hole. He saw it draw its arm back in the egg and heard it punch again: CRACK! The hole got even bigger. CRACK! It became so big that the tiny dragon was finally able to come out.
Alistair watached in adoration as his baby dragon hopped out of the shattered egg. The prophecy had come true...On the eve of a New Year, when there is a full moon lighting up a snow-covered ground, a dragon egg shall belong to one with green blood...Then, and only then, may dragons hatch into the world...
Alistair had heard that prophecy years before, when he had wanted nothing better than his own dragon. He had carefully searched throughout the mountain range near his home for an egg, for everyone knew that dragons only laid their eggs in valleys between mountains. He had serached for years, combing just about every nook and cranny there was until he had almost given up hope. But he'd finally found one.
And finally, on a New Year's Eve with snow on the ground and a full moon showing, it had hatched.


Alistair's fascination of dragons had begun six years ago, on his 8th birthday. Every child who had wizard and witch parents learned what type of magic they had then. Each child was taken to the Tester of Magic, who would take a sharp silver dagger and make a small, thin cut along the child's spine. The color of their blood would indicate what type of magic they would have power over. Blue blood meant water power, white was air, orange was fire, brown was earth, purple was spirit, and if you had red blood, it meant you were a person with no magic.There was also one more type of magic: power of all dragons.
Green blood. The color of Alistair's blood. The color of dragons' blood.
But the thing was, nobody in that country, the country of Mantao, nobody had had that power in over a century. And the dragons who surrounded the country would not be tamed by anyone except a true green-blooded person, so they were running wild, and many people in the country were being attacked by them.
It was Alistair's fate to have his own dragon and tame the others. It would be up to him and him alone.


Hundreds of miles away from where Alistair's dragon was hatching was a counry called Arandia. It bordered Mantao. The two countries were at peace with each other.
Or so everyone thought.
But the fact of the matter was that while Mantao hadn't had a dragon tamer in more than 100 years, Arandia had plenty. And while the Mantaotians were getting attacked by dragons constantly, the people of Arandia never had that problem.
Suspicious. Very suspicious.
A few people in Mantao had noticed this, but they didn't really realize what it could mean. Oh, sure, there were some whispered rumors about the mean king of Arandia, about how he was such a power-hungry misery. But what did they care? He wasn't their king; it wasn't their country.
But what they didn't realize was how shortly that would last.


King Morando, king of Arandia, was speaking to one of his spies.
"You're sure of your information, Randoc>" he asked the spy.
"Perfectly sure, Highness...All throughout Mantao was tgalk of the new Dragon Tamer. They say he already has an egg."
Morando cursed. "This cannot be! Don't you realize what this means? They have found another Tester!"
Randoc was completely bewildered by this statement. "What, my Lord?"
"Fool! Didn't you know that every single Tester of Magic throughout Mantao was planted there by me? Don't you realize that whenever they found a green-blooded dragon tamer---and there have been way too many--that they were, shall we say, immediately silenced by the tester before they cold tame any dragons? They were all part of the plan!"
"But, sir-" started the confused spy.
"Do not interrupt!" roared the king. "They have found a Tester that was not planted by me. They found a Tamer, who is living to this day. If he already has an egg, he'll be able to tame the others in no time!"
"My Lord, he's only one boy!"
"One boy could mean the difference between takeover. He could be the difference between the fall and the rise of Mantao. Now what did you say the boy's name was?"
"Alistair."
"Good. Send out spies and troops to find this boy. Make sure they don't look unusual. Don't arouse any suspicions. And then...." Morando made a gesture as though he were chopping off his head. "Kill him."

Meanwhile, Alistair's dragon was growing bigger and bigger with each passing day. He decided to name him Goldenstar because he came from a golden egg and because each of his scales sparkled like stars. Goldenstar wasn't really one set color; his scales were kind of an irridescent white that glimmered with many different colors whenever the sun shone on them. His eyes were the same shade of gold as the egg he hatched from.
By the time he was a week old, Goldenstar was a few feet long. And after a few more weeks, he was already breathing fire: long, thing jets of silvery flame.
Alistair's parents were very proud of him.
"I can't believe we have the first dragon tamer in more than a century!" his father told him one day. "I'm so proud of you, son."
"Yes, Alistair, your dragon is getting big. How soon do you think you'll be able to ride him?" his mother wondered.
Alistair's smile faltered. "I don't know," he admitted. "I don't know how big a dragon gets, or how to tame it, even. I know I'm supposed to be able to, but I wish I had a teacher, like Ariana or Rorus or Aaron."
Ariana, Rorus, and Aaron were Alistair's brothers and sisters. They all looked alike: jet black hair with blue eyes, contrasting Alistair's sandy hair and green eyes. But even though they looked alike, they all controlled different magic: Ariana controlled air, Rorus controlled fire, and Aaron controlled earth. They all went to a different school, one best suited to their abilities, just like every other wizard or witch kid in the world.
Except Alistair. He had no teacher. It had been so long since there was anyone who could control the dragons that no one knew anything about that type of magic anymore. Of course, people who didn't have green blood had tried to control them, but their efforts were fruitless. They simply didn't have the power to command them.
"Alistair?" Rorus said innocently to him one day. "Why don't you travel to Arandia? They have lots of Tamers there. Surely one could teach you."
"Yes, sure, Rorus," he said sarcastically. "I'm just going to travel out of the country with a dragon." He laughed. The idea was so wild and ludicrous, even.
Rorus scowled. He was tired of Alistair being the center of attention. Alistair this, Alistair that. He just wanted him to go away. Who cares if he was a tamer? he thought angrily.

Spirits are everywhere. Not only are there spirits inside living people, they are all around us, the spirits of the dead. Only people with spirit magic can see or control them, which, in a way, makes them more powerful than any other type of magic. Unfortunately, this was the type of magic Morando had. He could see all spirits, dead or alive, and bind them to his will with a simple command.
You cannot kill a spirit. They live on indefinitely. The only way to capture one inside a small container or flask with an incantation. They, when it was released again, it had to give whoever freed it a wish. Everyone knew that. And although only purple blooded people with spirit magic could capture one, anyone could free it.
And so, King Morando, after sending his troops and spies off, strode briskly to his chamber, firmly shutting the door behind him. He produced a small golden box encrusted with amethysts and sapphires from his wardrobe. He turned, and said to the apparently empty room, "Enclosus!" and pointed to the open box. There was a strange gust of what seemed to be wind, even though the windows were closed, and suddenly the box snapped shut.
Morando pulled a wand out from inside his robe. It was unusually short and very thick, rather like a thin club. He jabbed it at the box and it opened. There was another gust of wind, and in the room was suddenly another--person? No, it was almost transparent, a see-through silver woman. Was it a ghost? No, it wasn't that either. It was a spirit.