The group reached the camp quickly, urgency driving their every step. As they dismounted their dragons, Henric hurried Daniel to the healers. Cordelia rushed in with him, her heart pounding with worry. Outside, Talia and Henric tried to talk to the chief, their voices carrying loudly through the open door.

“I’m not moving my camp!” the chief protested.

“Fine. Don’t come crying to the knights when you’re attacked,” Talia retorted.

“You’re the ones who let them go!” the chief yelled.

“We? I saw a guy turn the dead into Azhar in seconds!” Henric shouted back, his voice tinged with fury.

“Listen,” Talia interjected, “We don’t know what they’re planning, but if I were you, I’d get far away from here.”

Inside, Cordelia sighed as she listened to the argument. The tension outside mirrored the turmoil in her heart. She felt a knot of frustration and worry tightening with every raised voice. The healer's tent was a dim haven compared to the chaos outside. A single oil lamp sputtered on a makeshift table, casting long shadows that danced on the ground. The acrid tang of disinfectants and herbs hung heavy in the air. Meira and the other healer worked swiftly on Daniel’s wound. Meira shook her head angrily at her father’s stubbornness as she listened to the argument but remained silent. Cordelia could sense the unspoken words of frustration hanging in the air.

Daniel, pale and shivering, reached for her hand. He squinted, as if opening his eyes was the hardest thing to do. She felt helpless, seeing him like this. He squeezed her arm until she looked at him.

“What?” Cordelia asked softly.

“You… did a good job… today,” Daniel managed to say, his voice barely above a whisper.

Cordelia placed her hand over his with an aching heart.“You too, my friend.” she said, “You too. Now rest.” She wished she could do more for him, something to ease his pain more effectively. For the first time ever, she regretted not listening to Master Volrank’s lessons more carefully.

“No… I mean it. You did… great.” Daniel tried to smile, his lips trembling. “You… summoned your dragon… without fainting… that’s good…”

Cordelia gave him a sad smile, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I guess I need to thank Master Lysanthir when we return.”

“How…” Daniel tried to speak again, his voice getting even weaker. “How do I… look?”

Cordelia chuckled softly, trying to lighten the moment. “Like griffon dung.” She hoped humor might lift his spirits, even just a little.

“Damn…” Daniel sighed, still attempting to smile. His face turned away from her, and Cordelia held his hand between hers as he drifted to sleep.

The healer stood up with a wooden bucket filled with bloody bandages and herbs. Suddenly Meira also put her hand on top of Cordelia’s hand, giving her a comforting look almost similar to Cordelia’s mother.

“We slowed the poison from spreading, but he needs an antidote soon. Embral poison is not something we’ve dealt with before.” She sighed, glancing at her father still arguing outside. “I guess we should start learning that as well.” The uncertainty in Meira's voice mirrored Cordelia's own fears.

Cordelia glanced at Meira, then back at the Chief's silhouette arguing outside the tent. Frustration bubbled within her. She felt a growing anger at the Chief's stubbornness. Couldn’t he see the urgency?

"Can't you convince him to leave?" she pleaded, desperation creeping into her voice.

Meira shook her head with a flicker of resignation in her eyes. "He's stubborn. Needs to see it to believe it, even if it means…" Her voice trailed off, a heavy silence settling between them.

"What we saw," Cordelia finished, and took a deep breath, "is something no one should ever have to see."

Meira offered a sad smile. "I’ll try to convince him, but he’s too stubborn to listen. You did your job. Now it’s our turn to prepare, one way or another. If it’s our destiny, we’ll survive. If not… then that’s the gods’ will."

Cordelia scoffed, hiding it behind a soft smile. “You can make your own destiny.”

Meira removed her hand from Cordelia’s and stood up with a thoughtful expression. "Or perhaps," she said softly, "The destiny you fight for is simply the fate you were always meant to face. You’ll never know. But in any case,” Meira’s hazel eyes looked warmly at Cordelia, “Keep safe, dear cousin. May destiny bring us together again.”

“I hope it will.” Cordelia smiled, “Take good care of yourself, Meira.”

Cordelia had hoped for more from the field training—a triumphant battle, slaying a monster, and proudly being declared a Knight upon their return. Instead, she felt like they had accomplished nothing. The elves were still in trouble, the Embrals had escaped before they could finish them off, and now Daniel was on borrowed time unless they reached the academy in time.

Perhaps this was the reality of being a Knight, she thought. Not every quest ended in victory, and not every heroic act was rewarded. Her father’s words echoed in her mind: Not all stumps grow to be trees again. She had always thought it was because the trees were too weak to grow from a stump.

Cordelia slowly let go of Daniel’s hand and looked at her own palms. It was never the fault of the tree stump for not being able to grow again, but the woodcutters who cut the tree in the first place. But why did she feel so angry at herself for not being able to do more?

Suddenly, Talia and Henric entered the healer's tent, their faces still etched with anger. Talia sighed and silently moved closer to Cordelia, signaling her to shift over so she could sit next to Daniel. Cordelia skidded slightly to the right, and Talia sat down, taking off her left gauntlet and gently touching Daniel’s face to check his fever. But there was also a soothing touch to her fingers, as if she was caressing his face.

Meanwhile, Henric sat across from them, sighing deeply. He fidgeted with his hands, clearly still replaying the argument in his head over and over, growing angrier with each passing moment over the long ended dispute.

Cordelia spoke in a low voice, feeling ashamed to break the silence. “When do we head back?”

Talia sighed and shook her head. “In a few hours. Daniel needs help and as you know dragons aren’t fond of being mounted unless there’s an emergency. I don’t wish to argue with my dragon and lose more time over it.”

Cordelia took a deep breath, her gaze fixed on Daniel with concern. “Will he make it?”

Henric nodded, trying to reassure her. “We have the antidote at the academy. He’ll be fine.”

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“What about the elves?” Cordelia asked.

Henric let out an audible sigh, his face masked with frustration. He didn’t say anything, but his expression spoke volumes.

Talia answered instead. “The Chief wants to stay.”

Henric gritted his teeth. “Bastard is going to condemn innocents just because he doesn’t want to believe the Embrals can turn people into Azhar with just a snap. I don’t know who this Lord Aiden is, but that power alone changes everything.”

Talia nodded grimly, “He probably doesn’t want to take it seriously because he’s afraid. I’d say it’s human nature, but…”

Henric cut in, “We’re all cursed with the ‘hope for the better’ mentality, sadly.”

Talia put her hand on Cordelia’s shoulder and gently tapped, “In any case, you should get ready. We’ll be heading back soon.” Cordelia nodded and got up and started to prepare for the journey.

A few hours later, they set off on foot, venturing deeper into the forest's embrace. Summoning giant dragons in the middle of a tiny settlement was too risky, so they had to walk until they found a suitable clearing for the dragons to land. Cordelia forced a smile for Meira who was waving from the trees as they left. However, it felt hollow. Leaving like this felt like a betrayal after everything that had happened. They kept walking as the towering trees cast long shadows, creating a mosaic of light and dark on their path.

Daniel was cradled in Henric’s arms once again, while Talia and Cordelia walked side by side. The silence between them was heavy, filled with unspoken worries and lingering tension.

Finally, they reached a clearing spacious enough for the dragons. With a soft glow emanating from their arms, Henric and Talia tore open portals in the sky. Familiar bronze and golden dragons emerged, their majestic forms descending gracefully to the ground.

As they mounted their dragons once again, Cordelia took a moment to look back at the forest one last time.

The dragons ascended, leaving the forest behind. The vast view of Jur stretched before them with a breathtaking tapestry of green fields and tiny settlements nestling among the hills. While the day-long journey was far away from the return she hoped for, the sight offered a moment of peace.

***

Exhaustion clung to Cordelia like a shroud as they finally stumbled through the Academy gates. The night was deep, the air thick with the chirping of unseen crickets. The usually bustling courtyard was quiet, save for the flicker of torches casting long, dancing shadows on the cobblestones. Even the ever-present glow of magical wards seemed dimmed. Daniel was immediately rushed towards the inner temple of the Academy to get the healers working on him. Henric and Talia’s dragons flew away as the group went inside.

Returning here after weeks of travel felt different this time. Cordelia looked around the Academy. Everything felt familiar, yet strangely changed.

Madame Liana led them, a candle in hand, her nightgown subtly sliding across the floor. The three followed her silently.

The corridors felt darker and emptier with nearly all the students either gone or sleeping. When they finally reached Madame Liana’s office, the other teachers were already there, waiting for them.

Madame Liana opened the door and sat at her desk, taking a quick, frustrated breath. She placed the candle down and looked at the trio.

“So, Commanders. What happened out there?” Liana asked.

Henric looked at Talia and Cordelia, then took a step forward. He recounted everything: their journey through the forest, the missing scouts and hunters found dead, Daniel’s injury, the Embral leader transforming the dead into beasts, Lord Aiden, and the ominous 'surprise' they were planning.

Madame Liana listened intently, rarely blinking as she absorbed Henric’s words.

When Henric finished, Liana sighed and shook her head. “That is impossible. There is no way they can do that.”

Henric stepped closer, struggling to contain his anger. “We didn’t come here just to lie to you! We saw it with our own eyes!"

Madame Liana stood up. “Only Arcanists are capable of such a thing, and it takes days, not mere seconds. I sent you there to secure the camp, and you return with practically nothing.”

Talia suddenly stepped forward. “Nothing? NOTHING? My lady, this Lord Aiden is planning something! You should send a troop to investigate. We need to find out what’s happening out there!”

Madame Liana scoffed. “You should’ve done that yourself instead of coming back with your tails between your legs.”

Talia gritted her teeth. “Our student was dying!”

A tense silence filled the room. Finally, Madame Liana turned away, her back rigid as she stared out the window at the moonlit courtyard.

Lysanthir spoke up, “My lady, you do know there is a way for them to do that.”

Liana crossed her arms. “No way. They need to be Knights to wield such power, or at least have some connection to the Void. They don’t have the ability.”

Master Thornley scratched his beard. “Well… maybe this Lord Aiden does.”

Talia spoke up, fidgeting with her fingers. "My lady… isn't it worth looking into, at least?"

Madame Liana stood silent for a few moments, the room thick with anticipation as all the teachers awaited her response.

Finally, Liana took a deep breath and looked at Henric and Talia as a flicker of resignation crossed her features. "I will send out a troop to investigate. You two will lead them. Come back with answers this time."

Henric and Talia seemed relieved. Cordelia felt a surge of gladness knowing the elves wouldn't be left to fend for themselves.

Master Volrank then cleared his throat, his gaze falling on Cordelia. "What about Faerondal?"

Cordelia held her breath, caught off guard by the sudden shift in focus. Her heart hammered against her ribs as all eyes turned towards her.

Henric and Talia turned to her and smiled encouragingly. Henric addressed Liana, his voice filled with conviction. "She did well. They both did. Brightsteel held his ground until he couldn't, and Cordelia stood by to protect him. They both showed courage, loyalty, and the potential to be valuable assets to the Knights."

Liana raised an eyebrow, her gaze lingering on Cordelia for a long moment. Cordelia braced herself, unsure what to expect.

"Are you sure?" Liana finally asked, a hint of something unreadable in her voice.

Talia stepped forward, with pride evident in her dark brown eyes. "We are, my lady. Give them the title."

Liana turned her back towards her desk and stamped a few papers. Then she looked towards Cordelia, “Well then. Cordelia Faerondal and Daniel Brightsteel now hold the title of Knights in our archives.”

Excitement bubbled up within Cordelia, momentarily eclipsing her doubts. With a grateful bow, she stammered, “Thank you, Madame Liana.”

Henric and Talia also smiled.

"Congratulations," Liana said finally. "Although you'll be formally knighted in a ceremony once Brightsteel recovers. Now, you may go. Henric, Talia, please stay a moment longer. There are a few matters we need to discuss regarding your mission."

Cordelia bowed once more with a mix of emotions swirling within her – relief, excitement, and a sliver of apprehension. As she exited the room her steps took her not towards the infirmary, but towards the familiar comfort of her own quarters.

When she finally made it to the dorms, Cordelia pushed open the door, the familiar scent of stale parchment and wood polish hitting her senses. The room was quiet, devoid of the usual chatter and laughter that filled it during term time. Most of the students were still out on their field training, leaving Cordelia with a sense of loneliness. She slumped onto her bed, the worn fabric offering little comfort against the ache that throbbed in every muscle. With a groan, she began to remove her armor, each piece clanging wearily against the floor. Bruises bloomed on her exposed arms as she removed her gauntlets. When she peeled off her once-white tunic, now stained a dull brown with grime and blood, a wave of exhaustion washed over her.

She looked outside the window, as the moonlight subtly shone through the window. She took a deep breath and sat in silence. She needed a moment, a sliver of solitude, to process the whirlwind of events and the weight of the title she now bore – Dragon Knight Cordelia Faerondal.