Scaled Soul (Dragon Academy Book 1)

by Gage Lee

  Kam nodded vigorously as yet another dragon easily batted the lotus blossom off the ramp with the wood element. “Well, they can't kill you on purpose. Accidents happen.”

  Taun remembered the way Reth had dismissed his worry over the death of those students fighting out in the Tombworld. Taun had thought dragons were rare, but there must have been many born each year. The flagrant way they threw the lives of their children away made Taun wonder just how many dragons were really out there. Maybe they were like fish who had dozens of young in the hopes that one would be strong enough to survive.

  While he considered that, more dragons went up to the stage and guided their lotus pods to the target. Most of the dragons used fire, the heart element that was tied to the path of servants according to Axaranth. Earth was also frequently used as it was tied to claws and the warrior path. A handful of students chose the wood element, a few used water, and then the proctor called out, “Taun Koth'tok. To the stage.”

  “You've got this, man,” Kam said with a grin. “It's not that important. It only decides which battle lodge you'll join. Don't even consider how your lodge is the single most important thing when it comes to success here. No pressure!”

  “That didn't help,” Taun said with a pained grimace.

  “What's the worst that could happen?” Kam said, pushing Taun forward through the crowd with one hand on his back.

  “I could fail,” Taun said.

  “Big deal,” Kam said, steering his friend to the right of the stage. “There are worse things.”

  Kam shoved Taun toward the challenge. When the young knight's foot landed on the first step leading up to the stage, a round of jeers rose from the dragons nearest him. He didn't need to look at the dragons to know the golds were behind that. They reminded Taun of a litter of pups his hunting dog had once had. The bigger bullies had chased the runt away from the mother, trying to starve it to death to get more of the milk for themselves.

  But Taun had rescued that little pup and raised it by hand. It was his father's favorite tracker, now, and had pride of place at the feast table after every successful hunt. If that little pup could do it, so could Taun.

  “Here you go,” the proctor said, offering a lotus pod to Taun. “Don't let them under your scales—I mean, skin. You wouldn't be here if you couldn't do this.”

  Caught off guard by the dragon's kind words, Taun scarcely remembered to take the lotus pod from the man. It weighed almost nothing. A stiff breeze could push it. But Taun had no idea how to move it with his mind.

  “Little help here,” he whispered as he put the pod at the bottom of the ramp. “I have no idea what I'm doing.”

  That is a surprise. Your core is weak, you have no scales, and you do not wish to fight your enemies or strike weaklings to prove your strength. Who knew you would be unable to master the most basic exercise of sacred pneuma.

  “You need me here as much as I need to be here,” Taun whispered through gritted teeth. He examined the ceramic cups that at the bottom of the ramp in the hopes they would show him something useful. The leftmost cup held an orb of shimmering silver energy, the next a ball of sloshing blue, coiled green threads shimmered in the third, a shimmering red haze bubbled in the fourth, and, finally, a blob of yellow wallowed in the fifth container.

  Start with metal. Axaranth said, confidently. The silver. I feel your affinity for it. Stand and inhale. That's it. Imagine you're drawing the essence of metal into your center. Yes, yes, just like that. Feel its power, like lightning trapped within your core.

  Something stirred inside Taun as he breathed. Pain blossomed behind his solar plexus, but the knight held onto the breath. He felt the energy entering him, coiled and restless as a tiger in a cage. It reminded him of the power Axaranth had poured into his core.

  Exhale, slowly, and direct all your attention to the lotus pod. There, yes, it is working.

  Taun stared in amazement as an invisible hand pushed the lotus blossom up the ramp. It moved slowly, but steadily. It reached a quarter of the way up the ramp, then halfway...

  And stopped. Taun's surprise at the pod's stop jostled his control over the metal element. He felt his mind slipping, his thoughts racing in every direction.

  Breathe. Do not be a fool. The tiny pool at your center is not a true core. You cannot direct enough pneuma using a single element. You have some affinity for water, so on your next inhalation, draw both of the elements at once.

  “Just do what you did when we fought the Eldwyr,” Taun muttered under his breath.

  There are some things you must do for yourself, man-child. They will sense my power if I do it, and who knows how they will respond.

  “That sounds like you're just lazy,” Taun grumbled to the voice in his head. When he got no answer, he went to work.

  Taun straightened his shoulders and threw out his chest as he breathed in, deeper and deeper. He ignored the snickering gold dragons in front of the stage. His thoughts centered on his family. They needed him to succeed and return to them with the strength required to drive back the Eldwyr forces. He would not fail his father and mother. He would make his older sister proud, and his cocky brothers would eat their words. He would return a hero, and the first step along that path was as simple as moving a lotus pod up a ramp.

  Any dragon child could do it.

  And so would he.

  Taun lost himself in the sensation of water and metal flowing into him, filling the hollow space at his center with elemental essence. When he was full as he could stand, Taun let his breath out in a long, slow sigh. He closed his eyes and imagined the lotus pod floating on twin pillars of water and metal, light as a feather and moving swiftly. He kept pushing until there was nothing left inside him and sparkles of light swam through the darkness behind his eyelids.

  A startled gasp went up from the crowd of dragons.

  Open your eyes, boy. Look at them, so they know you are not to be trifled with.

  Taun did as the dragon commanded. He didn't even spare a glance at the ramp; the surprised looks on the dragons' faces told him all he needed to know. Taun had succeeded where they all thought he would fail. He looked down on the gold dragons, his eyes firm and unyielding, and held their gazes until they looked away.

  Good. Now get off the stage before you collapse. The shock of your effort will set in soon, and you need to be off your feet when that happens.

  TAUN HELD IT TOGETHER as he descended the steps and walked through the crowd with his head held high. He managed to stay on his feet long enough to reach the edge of the initiates' crowd, then sat down into a cross-legged position before he collapsed. It was a near thing, but he doubted any of the dragons noticed that his trick had nearly wiped him out. They were all too surprised by what he'd done.

  He was surprised by what he'd accomplished. Channeling pneuma and elements was for dragons. Humans could not master those arts. And, yet, Taun had done it.

  Without Axaranth's help.

  Do not get cocky. Your strength is a candle next to the bonfire of my own. But, yes, you did accomplish this through your own efforts. That is commendable for someone with so little training.

  Taun was about to respond when a shadow fell over him.

  “That was quite a show,” a young female dragon, her cheeks dusted with silver scales said as she sat down next to the young knight. “Metal and water are rare elements. To use them both is rarer still. People will be talking about you for days to come.”

  The dragon's words were teasing, but her smile was warm and genuine. She was by far the most human-seeming of the dragons that Taun had met, and he found himself warming to her. “And how could you tell which elements I used?”

  “I'm Karsi Lors,” the girl said, “from—”

  Taun knew what her surname meant. “The Opal Axe clan,” he said with a smile. “You're awfully far from the Icefang Plains Kingdom.”

  “Clever boy,” Karsi said. “I didn't know they taught humans about dragon kingdoms.”

  “O
h, yes,” Taun said. “It's important to know all about our masters. Like the fact that you don't have a secondary surname, and that puts you in direct line to the Lors family nobility. Let me guess, you're a princess.”

  “My goodness,” she said, her voice low, her eyes appraising. “You are not at all what my mother told me humans were like.”

  Taun leaned back on his elbows, feigning nonchalance while he recovered his strength. The truth was he could barely sit upright and felt weak as a newborn kitten. “You're not much like the other dragons, either.”

  The princess and the knight shared a long glance. Taun felt a loose warmth spread through his chest and up his neck. He noticed that Karsi had blushed right up to the roots of her silver hair. For a moment, neither of them said a word, or needed to. It was enough to be together, then, basking in each other's company. Taun couldn't have imagined a better follow-up to his victory in the first challenge than sharing this moment with a dragon princess. There was something magical in the moment, and he wanted it to go on forever.

  But such things never do.

  “Is this human bothering you, Princess Karsi?” A male dragon initiate with streaks of copper scales lining his face like war paint had strode up to the pair and glowered down at Taun.

  Stand up and punch his teeth down his throat. Draw on metal, fill yourself with its power—-

  “We were just talking,” Karsi said, her blush deepening to a scarlet that made her silver scales seem to glow.

  “Get up, boy,” the copper snarled. “My name is Venki Lors'nan, and you will not sully the ears of my princess with your foul words. I challenge you to a duel for your impertinence, Taun Koth'tok.”

  “Venki, no,” Karsi said as she rose to her feet with an ethereal elegance. “This is unnecessary, truly. I'll take my leave. The human's done nothing worth punishing.”

  Those words stung Taun more than the way Venki had spat his name like a curse. He'd felt something between Karsi and himself, fleeting, to be sure, but too real to ignore. Her casual dismissal wounded his pride and made him more determined than ever not to be pushed around.

  He took a deep breath and concentrated on the feel and taste of metal flowing into his core. He could only manage a trickle of the power, but it was better than nothing. The pneuma gave him the strength to stand. Taun considered that a good start. He'd show these dragons he wouldn't take their abuse sitting down. If they wanted a fight, he'd fight. Even if he had no chance of winning. “I accept your challenge, Venki Lors'nan. As you challenged me, I have the right to decide the terms of the duel. Fists, to the first down.”

  Taun knew his odds of winning the fight were better with sabers, but he also knew he was far less likely to die “by accident” in a fistfight than with live steel.

  “So be it,” Venki said, then bowed to Karsi. “If you'd be so kind, princess, as to summon a member of the staff to certify our duel, I would be forever in your debt.”

  Karsi hesitated and looked to Taun. He nodded curtly to her, and she returned it. “Don't kill each other while I'm gone,” she snapped as she marched off to find a proctor to oversee the duel.

  A small crowd had already started to gather. Kam pushed his way to the front of the group, grinning from ear to ear. “You're just full of surprises. First you pull off two elements at once, and now you're dueling? You humans move fast. I passed too, by the way.”

  “Congratulations,” Taun said drily. “And this fight wasn't my idea.”

  “You could always bow out,” Venki said with a laugh. “You're no match for me, human. You'll just embarrass yourself.”

  “I've fought eldwyr and won,” Taun said. “Just imagine the shame you'll feel when I beat you.”

  We fought eldwyr, and I still have not fully recovered from that. If you want to win, hit your foe hard and fast, square in the throat. I would bet the master of his battle lodge never taught him that in martial arts class.

  A spike of alarm speared through Taun at the ancient dragon's words. He'd had no idea that Axaranth was not at peak strength. No wonder the dragon hadn't offered to help him at the first challenge. The young knight also didn't like the idea of a throat strike in a sanctioned duel. It was a dirty trick that could easily kill an opponent. Taun wanted to win, but murdering a dragon would cost him more than losing a stupid duel.

  “The eldwyr are gone,” Venki snarled. “We dragons destroyed them while humans cowered behind their walls. Just like you're cowering before me right now..”

  “Relax, gentlemen,” a student in scarlet robes strode up. “I'm Devoted Suto Lors'nan, here to officiate your duel. Karsi tells me you've agreed to the terms of the duel already. Since you're both so eager to fight, we'll use this as a placement challenge. I want a clean fight, understand? No strikes below the belt, no eye gouges, no biting, and no breath attacks, Venki. Odds are at five-to-two, in the dragon's favor. Bets are open for the next five minutes, then we'll begin.”

  Those five minutes passed at a glacial pace for Taun. He had no money or Glory to wager on the fight, which was perhaps for the best. Five to two odds were terrible, and it bothered him that the dragons thought so little of a knight's skill at arms. His family had trained to protect the border against the Wyld for centuries. Knights like him were the first line of defense between the dragons and dangers from beyond the Empire. Surely they couldn't believe he was so useless in a fight.

  Then again, the Academy was high up in the mountains, far from danger and the humans who guarded their lands. Maybe Devoted Suto Lors'nan didn't know anything about humans.

  “Bets are now closed,” the dragon called out at last. “On the count of three, you may begin—”

  “Hold,” Auris said as he strode up to the proctor. “I have a proposition to make.”

  The gold was speaking to Suto, but he only had eyes for Taun. He held the human's gaze with the merciless strength of a hawk crushing a mouse in its talons.

  “What do you wish to propose, noble Auris?” Suto asked, averting his eyes from the gold's face. Apparently, Auris had a lot of pull around here.

  “Venki, I'll give you ten Glory to act as your champion in this duel,” Auris said.

  The way the copper dragon smiled at the gold made it clear that Taun had walked into a trap the two had prepared beforehand. The young knight's blood ran cold as Venki nodded and bowed to Auris. “It would be my honor, Auris,” he said. “Try not to hurt him too badly. It's his first day.”

  “Oh, I'll go easy,” Auris said with a laugh. “For a dragon.”

  Karsi stepped between the dragon and Taun. “This is preposterous,” she spat.

  Auris stepped past Karsi. He only stopped when his chest bumped into Taun's. “Do you want to hide behind the princess?”

  Taun very much did want to hide behind the princess. The dragon had a good foot of height on him and a solid thirty pounds of muscle. His arms were longer and his scales, though hardly a full set of armor, would provide him with protection that Taun simply did not have.

  But a decade and a half of dealing with his brothers had taught Taun that backing down from a bully only made the harassment worse. Better to hold his chin up and take his beating than to let everyone believe him for a coward. And maybe there was a clever way to turn this to his advantage.

  “I'm still in the duel,” Taun said to Auris, and then to Suto, “But it hardly seems fair that the challenger gets Glory for bowing out, but I get nothing for standing against a clearly more dangerous foe.”

  Suto considered that for a moment, then gave a sharp nod to the combatants. “Taun has a point,” he said. “There is no Glory to Venki for stepping down. That Glory will, instead, be given to Taun for accepting the change of challengers. I have also updated the odds to 2:1 in Auris's favor. Very good, then. Each of you take three paces back. Bow to one another. Excellent. Three, two...fight!”

  The gold came at Taun as if his life depended on winning. His hands flashed like twin meteors, one at Taun's face and the other at his midsection. Au
ris had put everything into those strikes, leaving nothing for defense. If Taun hadn't still been exhausted from his trick on the stage, he might have taken advantage of that.

  Instead, he took both hits full on. The blows knocked the air out of his lungs and the thoughts from his skull. The knight flopped back on the grass like a beached fish, his back arching for a moment before he lay still. He was vaguely aware of Devoted Suto standing over him, but that seemed like the hazy edges of a fading dream as the blackness closed in around him.

  You stood your ground. That counts for something. Not much. But something.

  Chapter 7

  TAUN WOKE SLOWLY. THE ringing in his ears told him he'd taken a shot to the head, and the way his ribs ached was a sure indication someone had clubbed him in the side. The channeling ache from his core had faded, though, so that was something.

  Oh, good. You are awake. Get up and talk to the members of your lodge.

  The knight opened one eye and took in his surroundings before he committed to rousing himself. He was in a small, stone cell. The roof was thatch over timbers, and a single narrow window let in a beam of sunlight that drew a bright line across the stained, pitted stone floor. The door to his cell was open, so he wasn't a prisoner. That was nice. He heard voices nearby. With no immediate danger in sight, Taun dragged himself up into a sitting position and groaned at the aches and pains that brought to light. His bed, if you could call it that, turned out to be a thin layer of straw over a stone slab attached to the wall.

  “Where am I?” Taun asked.

  Broken Blade Lodge. The lowest-ranked in the Academy.

  “Awesome,” Taun grumbled. Apparently, his dramatic loss to Auris had hurt him more than just physically. He must have missed the third challenge while he was down. Taun had hoped that his two-element stunt on the stage would have earned him a higher ranking despite his losses.

  Hope, it seemed, was for suckers.

  The young knight dragged himself back up to his feet and leaned against the wall until his head stopped spinning. Then he strode out of the cell, fingers crossed that he looked better than he felt.