When Ignimitra came into view, it became clear why our connection had dissipated. She was stone cold asleep, even snoring lightly. Perhaps my messages had been getting through to her, but she wasn’t conscious to receive them.
I often teased her about how easy it was for her to fall asleep, and for the most part I never really minded it. I enjoyed being with my thoughts most of the time. But this time was different. I needed to confide in her—the burden of carrying what I saw was too heavy for me.
Walking over to her slumped frame, I prodded her shoulders with my knee. Nothing. Not that I expected her to budge. Ignimitra could crush a cow in a single bite, one of my touches probably felt the same way the wind did against her scales.
There was only one thing left.
IGNIMITRA! I screamed, hoping the sound would ricochet through the recesses of her brain like I wanted it to.
She rose with a sharp growl that sliced through the otherwise still night, her eyes aflame with a mixture of surprise and anger. Her head snapped around to face me, smoke billowing from her nostrils. I thought for sure she would've had something witty to say, but her features softened when she realized that it was me.
Kaos, I..., she hung her head. I fell asleep.
I walked over to her and rubbed her chin.
I know. It's past your bedtime, angel.
She tittered, nuzzling her head against mine. Then she stopped suddenly, urgency in her eyes.
What did you find? Was it a dragon?
My tongue was a dead weight.
I...I can't describe it. It's better you look.
I closed my eyes, allowing her access to my memory of what had happened. I felt when she did, the images involuntarily shifting to the front of my mind. They played back like a highlight reel—I heard my own breathing, the sound of that horrible man's voice, and even the harrowing sound of the dragon's cries. Things I hadn’t noticed before became clearer, like the fact that the tarpaulin wasn't spotless. It was stained with something that I feared was dragon blood.
My knees were weak all over again, an unsettling guilt coming to rest in the pit of my stomach. Ignimitra was quiet for a long while after seeing it all.
Angel? I wrapped my arms around her huge head, burying my face in her cheek. I felt her hot tears like raindrops on my scalp.
I feel full of...hatred.
Me too, girl. Me too.
THAT NIGHT, IMAGES of the dragon haunted me.
Had I really made the right decision to flee? I turned over what I remembered in my mind. It seemed weak, defeated. More than the physical pain, the dragon seemed like its spirit had been broken. If they had been able to capture it, it was either docile by nature or a loner.
Where had the dragon come from, then? It certainly didn't seem Pyralian—I'd never seen a black dragon here in my entire life. And it seemed much too small to be an Astraphotian one. I turned the question over in my mind, coming up short every time. I had so many unanswered questions, but of two things I was sure.
One, what I had witnessed was cruelty in its purest form. Hakan was an alchemist, so I knew first-hand the lengths that they went to so they could perfect their craft. But, Hakan never conducted research on sentient beings. There were other ways of going about it, like building your potion from a proven formula or using sensitive plants.
That man should've been ashamed to call himself an alchemist.
Second, he had support within the Guard. Those four soldiers were more than privy to what he was doing, they acted as accomplices. My head pounded at the thought of them capturing the dragon. I couldn't be sure if they were acting alone, but someone had to know.
It all felt like a weight on my chest. I laid awake in bed nearly the entire night.
The more I thought of it, the more my resolve deepened. I had to do something about what I saw, and there was only one person wise enough to give me advice on how to handle what I had seen. I counted down the hours until I could see her.
AT SOME POINT I MUST've fallen asleep, for when I woke the sun was high in the sky and my eyes felt like they were filled with gravel. The sunlight burned my eyes, so I covered them with the back of my arm and stumbled towards the bathroom.
A hot shower brought some life back to me and eased the tension in my joints. Desperate to cleanse myself of the images that darkened my thoughts, I even washed my hair. It took me a while with all the detangling, but at the end it was worth it.
I felt lighter.
Today was a personal day for Ignimitra and I, and I was grateful for it. With the worsening conditions of the world, our personal days were virtually nonexistent. Truthfully, I don't know how we would have performed in training with all that we had witnessed last night. At least we had a day to come up with a plan that would make us feel a little better.
Changing into my casual clothes, I wrapped a thick towel around my hair and padded into the kitchen, intending to make breakfast.
What I saw there nearly made me faint.
At my kitchen table, sipping a cup of tea from one of my bone cups, sat Headmaster Vulcan Archer.
He looked out of place.
Broad shouldered and clad in head to toe in black leather, he looked like he belonged in a battlefield. Not sitting at a slight wooden table with his legs crossed, bringing a small cup to his mouth with his pinkie extended.
If my stomach wasn't empty, I would've retched right there on the floor. I wanted to scream. I wanted to run. I wanted to hide. My hand traveled to my thigh, only to come up bare—my dagger was in my room and he had two four-foot swords strapped to his back.
What was he doing here? How did he get in? Why hadn't Ignimitra alerted me? Was she okay? My mind raced at a million miles per second.
"Captain Kressin," he said, finally locking eyes with me. His mask was unreadable. "Fine day we're having, don't you think?" He gestured to the window above the kitchen sink that lay open. It looked out onto the backyard.
I released a breath that I didn't know I'd been holding when I caught a glimpse of Ignimitra, still asleep. Beyond her stood five Dragon Guard soldiers. Their presence sent an eerie chill down my spine. I didn't want them near my dragon.
When I refocused my attention on him, he wore a smirk.
I wanted to smack it right off his face. I hated this man. I hated that he made me feel so scared. I hated that he could get away with doing damn near anything he wanted. And most of all, I hated that there was nothing I could do about it.
"Headmaster Archer," I finally croaked out, my throat hoarse. I felt ill bringing my hand up to salute him. Every fiber of me screamed not to, but I couldn't.
He was my superior officer. I still had to respect him.
"At ease," he said, a wicked smile painting his features. "Come, take a seat. Pour yourself a cup of tea."
Cagily, I crossed the space between us. He had set a tea cup and saucer at the seat across from him. With shaky hands, I poured myself a cup.
What did this man want with me?
I felt like an animal being led to the slaughter. He could've killed me right now in this kitchen and those Dragon Guard soldiers would've helped him cover it up. It would have been like nothing happened.
I could tell the tea was hot from the steam rising out of the cup, but each sip felt like a wet swallow of nothing but despair.
"Don't you want to know why I'm here?" He leaned forward, that awful smile on his face. My stomach roiled.
I nodded. "I'd like to know,” my tongue was heavy.
He set his tea cup down with a clatter, pinning me with that harsh green gaze.
"Ah, the right to know," He began, using that leading tone I'd become so familiar with from his addresses. It struck a different kind of fear in me now that we were alone. There were no other soldiers to hide behind. He was addressing me directly, and any attention from this man was horrible. "You want to know why I'm here, because I'm in your personal space. I'm somewhere you don't think I should be. I've trespassed."
That last w
ord almost made me drop my cup. He was here about last night. Crap.
I must've been doing a horrible job at hiding my thoughts, because the Headmaster pressed on like I had given him the confirmation he needed.
"Early this morning I received reports of a trespasser at one of our government facilities," he began, taking a long sip of his tea. I was determined not to shudder under his gaze. Government facility he called it? A slaughterhouse seemed more like it.
I took a sip of my tea too. Growing up in a village policed by the Royal Militia taught you a lot. First, never admit to anything they had no proof of, otherwise your admission of guilt becomes the proof. Maybe the Headmaster was only here on a hunch.
"At first, I thought it was one of the dragonhands. Those pesky kids get into more trouble than they're worth sometimes," he added, watching me. I stared back defiantly. "Then reports of a white dragon flying away nearby came in. It was easy to spot for at that hour, there's so little air traffic," he continued. My knees felt so weak that if I had been standing, I would've collapsed. "We only have one white dragon on the mountain, Captain Kressin," he spat my name. "And her tamer seems to have a penchant for trespassing on government property."
My throat was dry. Though the evidence was circumstantial, he seemed convinced of it. Should I deny that I was even there? It was worth a try.
"Bold of you to assume that," I don't know where I found my voice.
A flash of shock crossed the Headmaster's features, but it was quickly replaced with something more normal for him. Anger.
"Where were you last night?" He pressed.
"Asleep," I retorted.
"Would you swear on your dragon's life?" He continued.
I almost said yes. Almost.
Then the image of those Dragon Guard soldiers standing near Ignimitra appeared in mind. Just a few months ago the Headmaster had sanctioned the killing of a dragon in front of its tamer, in front of our entire cohort.
I knew better than to bait him about something so serious.
"No." Defeat seeped into my blood.
He seemed satisfied at the answer, draining the last bit of tea from his cup.
"What you did is punishable by death," he snapped. "But you seem to always have a way of weaseling your way out of that, don't you?"
His cynicism cut deep.
The Headmaster had threatened me with death minutes after our first meeting. The first time I had avoided it thanks to Avek, and the fact that Ignimitra had chosen to bond with me. Now, what would save me?
"I'm not going to beg for your mercy," I said, the shakiness of my voice not matching my words. We both knew mercy wasn't in his vocabulary.
That genuinely delighted the Headmaster, for he held his head back and laughed, the sound echoing through the kitchen. I ground my teeth to stop myself from grimacing.
"Quite a fire you've got. No wonder that dragon chose you," He said in a low tone. From anyone else, it would've sounded like a compliment. "But, I'm not here to kill you, just remind you of something."
I quirked an eyebrow.
"You stole your dragon from the crown, and I was gracious enough to allow you to come here instead of giving you the just punishment you deserved for such treason," he said. "I'm here to collect on that favor."
Favor? Human decency was a favor? I couldn't tell if I was angered or scared.
"What you saw was the price of winning a war," he said matter-of-factly. "What Alchemist Huxin is creating will win this war for Pyralis. I'm sure you wouldn't want to stand in the way of that. To be the reason why your friends and family are killed, or worse yet sold off to savages."
His words brought back the feelings of the thick ropes that had bound me in the Astraphotian camp, of the condition that Avek had returned in. I imagined Hakan, imprisoned and tortured. My fingertips grew cold.
"Nobody needs to know what you saw. It will only confuse them."
"What did I see?" I ventured. I didn't have much bargaining power, but I needed more than abstract information. Miraculously, he took the bait.
"The testing of a serum that would strengthen our dragons tenfold," he smiled as if reminiscing on something nostalgic. "I expect you to keep your tongue until it is announced."
I examined him for a few moments. That serum was to strengthen dragons? Hadn’t it nearly killed the black dragon? I had seen its skin peel off and its muscles grow. He couldn’t have been planning to use that on the dragons in the Guard...
"Otherwise, you'll force my hand. Everyone faces reckoning for their actions, and you have escaped yours twice, Captain Kressin," His threat was like an iron fist in a velvet glove. "Don't expect to get away a third time."
He didn't have to spell it out for me. I understood.
"Yes, Headmaster Archer." I said, raising my hand to my temple.
"Good," he said, smiling a heartless smile.
He got up a few moments later, his imposing frame dwarfing everything in my kitchen. I sat there, watching his back as he left.
What had happened to him? Why had he become this kind of person? And why did I have the great misfortune of being caught in his sights? A heaving sigh escaped me when he finally disappeared.
In the yard, I saw the Dragon Guard soldiers leave as well.
Ignimitra managed to sleep through the whole ordeal. I felt like a husk, spent from all the feelings that Headmaster Archer had just put me through. I wanted to crawl back into bed and hide from everything.
But I couldn't.
His threat only confirmed what I had been theorizing all along.
Somebody else needed to know about this, and his visit only made it more urgent.
Chapter 9
After a hurried breakfast of scrambled eggs, I ran all the way to Betheka's house.
I left Ignimitra still asleep in the yard, much to my chagrin. I filled her trough with charcoal so she would have something to eat until I got back.
Despite the fact that the Headmaster or his guards were nowhere in sight, I still felt the need to hurry. My legs couldn't carry me to her fast enough, and my mind was aflame with how to tell her what I wanted to. It was probably best to have the conversation in her basement, I couldn't risk anyone overhearing us.
Betheka had always been discreet though, so I shelved my worry.
She opened the door on the first knock.
"My, did you run over here?" She asked me when I stumbled into her kitchen and doubled over, holding on to the counter for support.
A few heaving breaths later I had composed myself enough to speak.
"I did. I need your help," I said loudly, motioning for her to follow me. "I need you to prescribe me a potion." I hoped my voice carried enough.
Betheka didn't miss a beat, she followed me while playing along. "Okay, what do you need?"
"Let me show you," by this we had come upon the door that led to her basement.
I motioned for her to unlock it, which she did.
When we were safely in the bowels of her home, I exhaled a sign.
"Mind telling me what that was about?" She asked with a small smile.
We squeezed ourselves into the tiny table set in a corner of the room. The air was stuffy, ripe with dust because there were no windows down here. I felt safe talking here.
"I think I uncovered what you were afraid of happening," I begin, kneading my temples with my thumbs. "With the new alchemist."
Betheka's brow furrowed.
"What do you mean, child?" She asked.
I took a deep breath, the weight of all the Headmaster had said to me settling on my shoulders. This was bad.
"Early this morning Ignimitra and I heard what sounded like a distressed dragon call. We saw four soldiers pulling what looked like a dragon into an abandoned part of town," I said. "I snuck into where they carried it and found some kind of messed up research lab. There was an alchemist there testing something on a dragon that burned its skin off, but also made it bigger. Like, it grew in a second, right in front of me."
<
br /> The line between Betheka's eyebrows deepened. A shaky hand clutched her heart, and for a moment I thought of stopping. But her eyes willed me to continue.
"From the moment I realized what I saw, I knew I had to come talk to you about it. But," I lowered my voice then, still wary of an eavesdropper. "This morning I found the Headmaster in my kitchen."
Betheka jumped. "Vulcan?" She was incredulous. "In your kitchen?"
I nodded. "He threatened me with death if I didn't keep quiet about what I saw."
Disgust colored Betheka's features, her lips forming a scowl. I got a glimpse of her fiery temper, and for a second it warmed me to think that maybe I had inherited my defiance from her.
"That bastard," she spat.
"He called it the price of winning a war," I added. That sentence from the Headmaster had haunted me most. The price of winning a war. I didn't want to believe it, didn't want to think that this war would mean hurting innocent dragons all in the name of alchemy.
I wanted Betheka to tell me that he was wrong.
Her eyes were glassy, a defeated sigh escaping her. "He is right." My heart sank. "Why do you think we are the most advanced nation? We are the most ruthless, child. That doesn’t excuse his actions."
Betheka stretched out a hand to pat my hair. Her touch was soothing.
"Vulcan has wanted to do this for a while, but I've always resisted. A good alchemist knows never to test on animals, let alone creatures as sensitive as dragons. He has been intent on creating superdragons from the moment they made him Headmaster," her gaze was fixed on the wooden table that lay between us. "I thought I still had some time to change his mind. But with my sickness and the recent attacks on our colonies, my time has dried up."
I could feel Betheka's sadness seeping through her pores. She felt personally responsible for all of this.
"He would've done it anyway," I offered, hoping to make her feel better. "He's a horrible man."
My words seemed to help just a little.
"This new alchemist, who is he?"
I shrugged. "I didn't really get a good look at him. He wore his hair in dreadlocks, graying a bit. Tall and slight." I remembered something else. "Headmaster Archer called him Huxin."
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