by Gage Lee
The hallway beyond the common area was more finely decorated than even the throne room in Taun's home at Ruby Blade Keep. An amazing artist had carved a repeating pattern of warring dragons, bodies coiled around one another in a seemingly endless knot, into the wall. A pulsing radiance washed through the design from one end of the hall to the other and then back. Its golden light picked out the silver metallic threads in the carpet beneath Taun's feet. The knight focused his attention on that, and not on the group of dragons that had followed his lodge mates when they left the common area.
“Fancy,” Kam said with a nervous grin. “We're really moving up in the world.”
Sutari snorted as they begin their ascent up the stairs. Like Taun, she ignored the dragons on their tail. “It's nice, but I bet the next step up is nicer yet. You think they'd let Auris live in a dump like this place? I bet the walls in his lodge are gold and the carpet is made of baby yeti hides so soft it feels like walking on a cloud.”
They all chuckled at that, but Taun knew there was truth in the warrior's words. This was only one step up from the hovel that he and his allies had just left, and to him it looked like a palace. But that meant there would be as much of a difference between the next step up and this place. He couldn't even imagine how nice that would be. If they saved their Glory and won a few more challenges...
“This is it,” Kam said excitedly when they reached their door on the second floor. “Open it up. Hurry. I can't wait.”
The excited occultist practically bounced from foot to foot as he waited for Taun to fit the key in the lock. The knight was glad to see that the security here was much better than in their old home. The lock was set flush with the door. The heavy metal turned easily, though, a sure sign of regular maintenance. The solid chunk of the bolt sliding out of the wall and into its place within the door was another good sign. If anyone wanted to break into this lodge, they had their work cut out for them.
The open door revealed a room twenty-five feet wide and thirty feet long. A large, rectangular table and the six chairs that surrounded it occupied the center of the room. Even at a distance, it was obvious to Taun that the furniture was of exquisite quality. The dark wood gleamed beneath the glowing orbs set into the ceiling. The floor was of a lighter wood, sanded and polished until the blurry reflections of the overhead lights shone in its surface.
“You think this changes anything?” The same copper dragon who'd challenged Taun to a duel stood at the head of the mob who'd followed the human upstairs. “Just because the school lets you live with us doesn't mean you'll like it.”
The rest of the dragon mob nodded, their scales flushing with color as their tempers rose. Taun's violet core felt the anger and disgust that emanated from the dragons. It was every bit as clear to him as the colored scales on their faces and hands. These creatures did not like him, and they wanted to be sure he knew it.
This is ridiculous. Dispatch this fool and scatter his flock of pigeons.
“I think we'll like it just fine,” Taun said, keeping his tone calm. He didn't want to start a fight that could turn into a mob scene, even if he wanted to follow Axaranth's advice. “It's a nice place.”
“It was,” the copper snarled. “Now there's a distinct odor. Maybe we should take out the trash.”
Taun took in the young dragon before him. His talons were not as impressive as they would be when they'd fully grown in, but the dragon sign was already dangerous. The copper's core was blue, which Taun knew was stronger than his violet. Not a lot, but enough to make a significant difference.
But the knight was not about to let that cow him. If he backed down from this bully, he'd spend the rest of his time at the school looking over his shoulder. Well, looking over his shoulder more often than he already did.
“Auris isn't here,” Taun said, his voice still smooth as a pond on a windless day. “If you push this, you'll have to fight your own duel.”
Oh, I want to see this fight.
The copper licked his lips with a forked tongue. “That's all right. I'm a dragon. You're just a human.”
Taun smiled as toothily as any dragon. He cracked his knuckles and took a step forward. He had to look up at the dragon who had a good six inches of height and twenty pounds on the knight, but he didn't care. Taun had a weapon more potent than size.
“You haven't heard,” the knight said and chuckled. “Might want to ask some of your friends what happened in servant's path class.”
Smell his fear. Delicious.
The copper's smile didn’t waver, but Taun sensed the unease that had taken root in his core. The knight held his gaze and drew in a deep breath of pneuma. He let the mystic energy fill his core, then pushed it in the one direction he'd never considered before that moment.
The dragon scale accepted the trickle of power that was all Taun could manage. There wasn't enough pneuma to fuel a fight like Axaranth's battle with the eldwyr. But there was more than enough to ignite the scale's venomous green glow. It poured through the weave of Taun's shirt and flooded the copper's face.
“What kind of trick is that?” the young dragon asked. His smile evaporated, and he took an involuntary step back. All the dragons in his little gang did the same.
“No trick.” Taun pulled the neck of his shirt down to reveal the scalloped upper edge of the soul scale. “It's a soul scale. A powerful one.”
A murmur spread through the crowd. The scent of fear filled the hall, sharp and acrid as the ashes of an old trash fire.
Impressive, man-child. Most impressive.
“Liar,” the copper said, his voice cracking.
“Challenge me to a duel and find out,” Taun said. “And that goes for the rest of you. There's a reason a human is living among dragons. Consider what that means before you start a fight you can't win.”
Taun held his ground. He felt the rest of his lodge behind him, their pride as warm against his back as the open door of a forge. Their presence was a comfort to him and a deterrent to his enemies. The soul scale's glow was just the icing on the cake of Taun's confident challenge.
“Watch your back,” the copper snarled.
“My friends help with that,” Taun said. “Run along, kids. You know where to find me if you want to try another challenge.”
The crowd of dragons broke up and drifted back down the stairs in ones and twos. The rage had shriveled into a cloud of shame that clung to them with the stink of rotten eggs. Taun didn't move until the last of them had vanished. Only then did he turn to his lodge members, who watched him with wide-open eyes.
“Well, that was something,” Kam said. “Glad it worked out. I thought we were about to get torn to pieces by that mob.”
The rest of the lodge laughed at that, and the five of them stepped inside their new lair.
Taun waited outside the lodge's door after the rest of the dragons had gone inside. He shrugged off his backpack and pulled the battered sign with Broken Blades etched into its rusty surface. He held it in place above the threshold with one hand, plucked one of the nails he'd created in class out of the pack with the other, then used pneuma to secure the sign to the fine wooden wall. The metal spike shot into the wood with a metallic ringing noise that echoed through the entire building.
You do know how to attract all the wrong kinds of attention. They will see this sign as a challenge.
“Good,” Taun said.
He'd decided it wasn't enough to just live here. He wanted to stake his claim and show the other dragons he had a right to be here. They'd branded him and his team with a name that marked them as useless. Taun would carry that name through the Glory Chase. He'd drag it along behind him until he'd reached the very top of the ladder. And then he'd hold it over his head and show the dragons that a broken blade could get the job done just as well as a shiny new sword if you knew how to use it.
LIRA EXPECTED EVERY day in the new lodge to be her last. She struggled to believe that this was her life now. It was far too good to be true. People like he
r didn't live in warm, comfortable homes with soft beds and smooth sheets. She'd never even imagined an indoor privy, and each of the five rooms in her lodge had their own that disposed of their waste without so much as a whiff of stink. Their kitchen held a stockpile of food that was far too much for five people, and a wave of a hand and touch of pneuma activated enchanted cookware that prepared delicious meals.
The scout woke every morning, unsure of where she was, sure the dream would end.
Because her earliest memories, and the ones that came back to her in the cold, quiet moments before dawn, were of going to the market with her mother. Not to buy food or sell it.
To beg for enough scraps and castoffs to survive another day.
Those days had been hard. But not nearly as hard as what came after.
Lira's memories of that dark time haunted her, and they seemed to have gotten worse after the move into the new lodge. It was as if her mind was punishing her for the pleasures that her new quarters provided. The more comfortable she became in the present, the more terrifying the specter of the past grew in her thoughts.
She puzzled over that on her way to the scout's path class every day. It was one of the few times she was truly alone, and she used it to pick at the problems that plagued her thoughts. It had been a week since she and the other Broken Blades moved into their new quarters, and she felt worse now than ever before. The fear that her new life was a cruel dream hung over her head like an executioner's sword. The others didn't believe her, but Lira had seen this story play out far too often.
People like her didn't live like this. Someone would notice that she'd pushed her head up from the muck, and they'd put their heel on the back of her head.
That was the way the world worked when you were poor and powerless.
No matter how Lira turned that around in her thoughts, she couldn't shake the truth she'd lived her entire life. Even as she sat down in a classroom and waited for the other dragons who seemed bored and utterly clueless how good they had things here. Or how quickly it could all vanish.
Professor Koth'nan smiled at the scout as he entered the classroom. The elderly instructor's eyes crinkled with warmth as he said, “First as always, Lira. I wish all my students were as dedicated as you are.”
“I do my best,” the scout said humbly.
She came to class early because of the irrational fear that one day she'd arrive and all the seats would be filled. It made no sense, because there were plenty of empty seats in the lecture hall every day. But no matter how logically she analyzed her worry, no matter that she understood it wasn't a real problem, Lira couldn't let it go.
Because her presence here at the school made as little sense as Taun's. She was a prisoner and a slave. That was her reality. That Emissary Reth had plucked her out of that dreary life didn't change the truth. Her time at the Academy was an illusion that would shatter just as soon as someone realized there’d been a mistake bringing her here.
But until that happened, Lira vowed to uphold the promise she'd made to her lodge members. To Taun. Lira would help her team win the Glory Chase.
And so she sat in the lecture hall as the rest of the class ambled in. She ignored their sneers and whispered insults, because that was her lot in the world. As a slave, she was subject to the whims of any dragon who felt like punishing her. Over the years since her capture by outriders of the Lors family, her owners had treated Lira well enough, but the fear of a beating or tongue lashing was always present. Irritate one of the master's children and get beaten. Displease the mistress and hear about it for days after. That had trained Lira to keep her head down and her mouth shut, no matter what came her way.
None of it mattered, anyway. The other students could mock her all they wanted. It didn't change the fact that she was the best scout the Academy had ever seen. Professor Koth'nan had told her as much.
“Good afternoon, class,” the professor said as the last students settled into their seats. “Today is a challenge day for you. Settle down, and I will explain what's in store.”
The professor waited patiently behind his lectern for the students' excited chatter to fall to a reasonable level. Then he raised one hand and snapped his fingers to summon a large sheet of light in the air beside him. Over the next few seconds the white light shifted into shades of green and brown, forming an overhead view of a farming village on the slopes south of the Academy. The small houses with their smoking chimneys reminded Lira of her home before the monsters came and destroyed it. It seemed so peaceful. She wondered if the farmers knew how quickly danger could upend their lives.
How easily monsters could tear their pleasant little homes open and scatter their broken bodies across the bloody snow.
“This is the site for your next challenge,” Professor Koth'nan said. “After I finish this presentation, we will gather outside the southern gate to begin. Your mission is quite simple: move into the village undetected, find one of the flags I've hidden there, and return it to me as quickly as possible. The first dragon to return, undetected by any of the villagers, receives twenty Glory. Second place gets ten, and third place gets five. The rest will receive the knowledge that they must try harder to win.”
A gold dragon that Lira had seen hanging out with Auris during the students' free time raised his hand.
“Yes, Rothe?” the professor asked.
“If a villager sees us, but we incapacitate them, can we still continue with the challenge?” The gold asked with a smug grin.
“Of course not,” the professor said. “Scouts are unseen, unheard. We are the ghosts of dragonkind. If you are spotted, your mission has failed. And, in the real world, that would put your warband in terrible jeopardy.”
Rothe snorted dismissively at that. “A dead enemy can't report back on what they've seen. It's as good as not being spotted at all.”
That earned the gold laughter from the other students, except for Lira. She scowled at him with a furrowed brow. Fools like him were more dangerous to their allies and enemies. Their bravado was deadly to the squads who depended on their discretion and skill. Lira hoped this one got some sense pounded into his head before someone died.
The professor clearly agreed with her. He glared at Rothe until the laughter subsided and kept staring while the silence grew into an uncomfortable weight on all of them. He didn't speak until the gold fidgeted in his seat. “In the field, anyone a scout kills becomes a burden. You must take time to hide the corpse. You spend energy digging a grave, and then you must hope your enemies don’t discover it. A scout must never be afraid to fight. But unlike warriors, scouts must weigh every engagement against the needs of their mission. Remember that, and you'll go far. Forget it, and your squad will curse your name. If the enemy doesn't kill you for your foolishness, your allies will.”
Professor Koth'nan let that float in the air for a moment while the scouts hung their heads. Then he clapped his hands together and offered them a wide grin. “All right let's move out.”
The other students resumed their chatter. Lira listened to groups of friends discuss their plans as she walked among them. It was a struggle not to laugh at their pathetic strategies. Of course, she had to remind herself that she was the only one among the scouts who'd explored the countryside outside the Academy's walls. In fact, she'd been to this very village the first night she'd been in the school. While the other students slept, Lira had ventured out in search of one thing she could never have enough of: food. Her keen nose had led her to a small farmhouse down the slope from the Academy, and she'd used skills honed over her short lifetime to steal fried rice from a kitchen while the farmers dreamed of fair weather and bountiful harvests.
Lira had returned to that village every night. She'd been careful not to steal from the same house twice and was confident that none of the farmers even knew they were missing food. The scout had shared that food with her lodge members when they'd needed it, which had ended when they upgraded their quarters. Still, taking food was a hard habit for Lir
a to break. She'd grown up never knowing where her next meal would come from, and as a slave she'd never had enough to eat.
“All right, scouts,” the professor said when they'd passed through the sally port of the massive southern gate. “I need each of you to take one of these pearls.”
The instructor had produced a small bag of the precious beads and handed one to each student. When they all had one in hand, he put the bag away and explained their purpose. “Put the pearl in a pocket or a pouch,” he said, “and keep it with you at all times during this mission. If it leaves your person or you don't return with it, your mission has failed.”
“What does it do?” Rothe asked.
“It will turn red if a villager spots you,” the professor said, “and then I will know you were not careful. And, yes, it will turn red even if you subsequently incapacitate the person who saw you, so don't hurt the villagers. Also, the Academy protects our farmers. They provide us with food, and we make sure they are safe. Take nothing from the village except for a flag, understood?”
Lira felt her ears going red as the professor said those last words. Did he know she'd taken food from the farms?
And even if he did, Lira knew she wouldn't stop. The people in the houses below her had more food than they could ever eat. Even if they noticed her theft, they were in no danger of starving. Lira, on the other hand, knew what true hunger felt like.
She'd do anything to avoid that horrible aching emptiness.
Anything.
“All right, students,” the professor said. “This is an individual challenge. You may begin!”
While the other scouts scrambled down the hill, Lira skirted off to one side and vanished into the forest on the east side of the path to the village. The undergrowth and dense foliage would slow her down, but the increased cover made it less likely an observant villager would spot her. Moving slower would also allow the other scouts to provide cover for her. Some of them would be spotted, and that distraction would allow her to move unseen amongst the farmhouses.
