It had been a week since Saelina had moved into the manor and she was still cursing out the names of every god she could think of that Ezeas of all people had been assigned to train her. He had been there, the first morning, waiting for her with his usual haughty expression. If he were displeased with his task he seemed to find some comfort in her misery.

His parents had been the picture of graciousness, though his mother to a far greater degree than his father. The latter seemed a bit reserved and spent most of his time in his study. However, the couple did give off a strong vibe of affection and care for one another as well as their children. Ezeas was the second-oldest of four, his siblings having long moved from their parents to start their own families. Saelina had not yet met any of them, nor was she like to, according to their parents.

While Saelina's body had been healing, she had been taught the basics of Nyxan culture. She knew there were two other 'dragon-bonded' as she discovered they were called and it was something of a status symbol to be one. She learned that Islasa's main income came from hiring out its people to other countries.

The nyxis were uniquely suited for shadow work and three of the five houses were responsible for their own branch within that area: The House of Night specialized in spies and trackers, the House of Phantoms worked mainly in thievery and deception, The House of the Blade was wet work and mercenary. The House of Gold was responsible for trade within and outside Islasa and the House of Shadow were jacks-of-all-trades, dealing mainly in politics. As such, the latter was considered best-suited for leading the Council of the Houses.

The Sethaernans had held the High Seat for close to five hundred years, having had three members win the vote for High Councilor, so their name carried weight. Even so, most of them had other employment to occupy their time, rather than simply being nobility. It was very unlike anything Saelina had grown up expecting. She supposed, with the average life expectancy being around half a millennium, enough things could change that relying on one's bloodline was far less secure. It was still an adjustment to know she was in the care of a noble family.

And now she was waiting for the oldest son to teach her, in a room she had never been in, before that point. The floor was covered in something which looked like straw mats and there was a certain elasticity when she stepped on it. It was cleared of furniture and there were wooden and straw dummies along the far wall, some of them rougher for wear and some with targets painted on them. She sighed, hoping she was not about to be another dummy.

Superfluous question. You willingly trust the people who tied you up and dragged you off.

“It seemed the better option to stay locked up in my room, learning nothing,” she said, out loud.

She did not always bother to keep her thoughts quiet, when alone.

Are my efforts so wasted on you?

She shook her head.

“I'm grateful for what you've been teaching me, I just wish my progress wasn't so slow.”

If you have time to feel sorry for yourself, perhaps you should do something to change that.

She was becoming accustomed the dragon's brand of helpful insults and decided to take his advice. She calmed her breathing held one hand in front of her and focused her concentration. Reaching inside she searched for the source of her power. It took tremendous effort to pinpoint it and even more to draw it out; her grip slipped and she had to start over, carefully coaxing the heat through her arm and to her hand. Her heart beat faster as her temperature rose and she felt a sense of excitement as she tried to concentrate the magic above her fingertip. There was a spark, then nothing for a few seconds, then a small flame sputtered in flickered to life at the end of her index finger.

She smiled victoriously. It did not take much energy to maintain once there was a flame. She repeated the process with the remaining four fingers and for a while she simply observed the results as five tiny flames shone above each finger.

They almost extinguished when she was startled by the sound of voices, outside the door. Laelith's was raised in exasperation and Ezeas sounded annoyed and dismissive. They were talking in their own tongue, so she could not catch their meaning very well but it was not hard to guess that they disagreed vehemently on something, as was the usual.

Bickering. The noise will never be welcome.

Are you forced to see and hear everything I do?

Of course not. The tedium would undoubtedly spell my death.

So, you can disconnect from me?

When I so choose.

What about me?

An exasperated grumbling reverberated through her mind.

In due time. Until then, you need only ask.

That's comforting.

I'm not so fond of mortals as to linger when I'm not wanted.

She turned her attention back to her own work, letting herself sink into the bright lights, enjoying the heat that pulsated through her arm.

“I see your control has increased.”

“Hello, Essy.”

She did not turn to greet the owner of the dry voice.

“A pretty parlor trick,” she noted, “useless for anything more than lighting candles.”

With effort she spread the fire down her finger until her entire hand was enveloped in fire.

“This is slightly more useful, if I were to get close enough to punch someone.”

“But anything more is still not forthcoming, I take it?”

She sighed and clenched her hand, killing the fire, entirely.

“No. It seems I'm at a disadvantage when it comes to mastering the power.”

Ezeas raised an eyebrow.

“How so?”

“Apparently, being pushed beyond my limits before learning the first thing about my power has made it harder to grasp the most basic concepts.”

He walked past her, loosening the jacket he was wearing.

“Are you sure that's the problem?”

“According to Dhíanvhúr it is. I take it his experience outmatches my own.”

He removed it and hung it over a dummy. She observed him with casual curisoity.

“How's Laelith?”

He paused, giving her a stern stare.

“I don't appreciate being spied on.”

She scoffed.

“First of all, it'd be foolish to listen in on a conversation where you don't even understand half the words, reckless too. Secondly, You guys got loud and I recognized her voice, that can hardly be considered 'spying', and finally: please stop upsetting your cousin, because I'm genuinely worried that she'll get enough of you and won't come by anymore.”

“So what if she doesn't? That only seems positive to me.”

She glared at him.

“Right, the idea of my forming a bond with someone and actually feeling motivated to protect something when partaking in a fucking war for your people, that's the ridiculous part.”

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He bristled slightly at the venom in her voice and hesitated for a moment before answering.

“Don't worry, she has a soft heart for the weak and helpless. She won't be scared off by a spat with me.”

Saelina rolled her eyes.

“It's impossible to reason with you.”

“I'm not here to weather your complaints, I'm here to train you. Speaking of which.”

He gestured for her to stand in front of him and she obliged, feeling some trepidation at the prospect of being tossed around.

“I assume you have no prior combat training, armed or unarmed?”

She nodded.

“So, you have no idea how to protect yourself?”

“That's really a different question, isn't it?”

“Oh?”

She felt her anger rise at the skepticism in his tone.

“From my recollection, outside of your little flame-out your skills were laughable, whelp.”

“You're also not a drunk human trying to force yourself on me...or an angry spouse.”

He gave her a curious gaze and she shrugged.

“Some men get confused when they see a woman begging. Apparently, a man's cock and his coin pouch are easily confused. Having both in his pants is a faulty system.”

“And the spouses?”

“Sleep with half the population of a human town, you're bound to step on some feet.”

“Was it worth it?”

“What? Being a beggar or being a whore?”

“Both.”

She considered her words for a moment; Ezeas' face was as unreadable as ever, so she had no clue what his reaction would be.

“Begging wasn't. Few wanted to give money to the town pariah. However, paying to sleep with the most hated person...that's apparently a different matter, entirely.”

“When I watched you in Mahlein, you were scavenging. Why would you choose that instead, if you'd found a better way to make money?”

She crossed her arms, not looking straight at him.

“The Lord decreed that begging would be fined. As for my other career choice, at some point a list was nailed to the notice board, revealing the name of every one of my 'clients'.”

She chuckled.

“Oh, if I thoughts those miserable fuckers hated me before...”

She looked at him, waiting for some snide comment but non came; instead he observed her with an incomprehensible expression and she was wondering if what she had said even sounded strange by Nyxan standards.

“Maybe you're not so helpless, after all?”

She did not say anything out of sheer surprise. The first thing that finally came to mind rushed out her mouth.

“Are you feeling quite well?”

He seemed puzzled by her outburst.

“Did you hit your head? Did Laelith cast a spell on you?”

Her eyes widened and she leaned in while staring intently at his eyes.

“What?” he snapped.

“Did you smoke mooneye?” she whispered.

He rolled his head back, regretting his comment.

“Despite what you might believe I'm not so jaded that I'd fault someone for doing whatever is needed to survive. Nor do I enjoy taunting you so much, that I'd lie just to make you feel worse.”

She stared at him, unsure what to believe, and he met her gaze, earnestly. She decided not to push the subject, and changed it, instead.

“So, is there a particular reason the council wants me to learn how to fight?”

“The idea is that if you find yourself on a battlefield, you'll know enough to either keep yourself out of danger, entirely, or, more likely, defend yourself from it, long enough for help to arrive or well enough to run away,” Ezeas explained.

“Oh. That makes sense.”

He nodded but then held up a finger.

“However, the idea is that you'll mainly face human opponents. What I teach you won't help you in a physical fight against a nyx, any nyx.”

“That goes without saying,” she agreed.

“Alright, then.”

He had her attack him and showed her the different flaws in her strategy, while slowly getting her used to different movements and tactics. She ended up on the floor more times than she cared to count but kept getting up and trying again.

Learning how inexperienced she was made her grateful that she had never truly been forced to test her mettle against an enemy. Ezeas corrected everything from her stance to the order in which she tensed her muscles; his demeanor remained unchanged throughout the lesson, regardless of how completely she failed to follow his instructions or how many questions she asked him.

Every fall was painful in its own way, but with it came catharsis; knowing she was working towards something stronger, something more than she had been. The determination to try again was renewed, each time, as was the wish to learn more, do more.

“Let's stop.”

The announcement came so suddenly, Saelina just stared confused up at Ezeas from her position on the floor.

“Why?”

There was a note of disappointment in her voice but the nyx shook his head.

“You're not used to this type of training. I might have already overdone it and you'll be paying the price, tomorrow.”

“How often are we going to do this?”

He considered for a moment.

“Twice a week, for starters. We'll see how well you fare, with that.”

She stood, then stumbled and her teacher quickly grabbed her shoulder.

“Why didn't you say you were getting tired?” he asked.

“I want to get stronger.”

The reason sounded dumb when spoken out loud, she realized.

“Surely, you're not stupid enough to think that was going to happen in one day?”

His voice had taken on its usual terse note and she refrained from answering as she straightened her stance. He accepted the non-answer and nodded.

“Before you go, I should tell you that Laelith wants to take you out, sometime during the next week or so.”

“Really? Where to?”

She started feeling excited at the prospect of seeing more of the city.

“She wants to visit a historian, someone who could teach you more about Dhíanvhúr.”

“Was that what you were fighting about? Seems like that would be the most sensible thing to do.”

Ezeas was quiet for a while and she wondered whether there was something she was missing.

“The person you'll be meeting is named Miralise. While Laelith trusts her, I think you should be cautious. Her family's from the House of Gold, and they have caused trouble for the Sethaernan's in the past.

“She's the best source for anything dragon-related and the only practical option, really.”

She observed the stoic man but his posture revealed nothing.

“Do I sense some history?”

“I won't get into it. Laelith or Miralise can fill you in, if they want to.”

Saelina decided to drop it and sighed.

“You told me there are two other dragon-bonded. Do they have to go through all this, as well?”

“No, they're both nyxis, so they have the proper combat training and grasp on our culture. Not to mention the dragons they're paired with are well-known entities in our lore.”

“Where do they live?”

“One is loyal to the House of Phantoms, the other the House of the Blade.”

He started putting on his jacket, again.

“Is every house looking for an essence?”

He shook his head.

“Our position in the council isn't as strong as it appears. There's already been one attempt at pushing my grandmother from her seat. With a dragon-bonded, the Blades could make their own push to remove her.”

Saelina realized what his explanation alluded to.

“I see. And instead of having a pure essence to enhance one of your own and show your strength, you got stuck with a weak human, with no clue what she stumbled into.”

“That's more or less the gist of it.”

She smiled mirthlessly.

“Ah, to be hated. It reminds me of Mahlein.”

He smirked.

“You may be hated but you're also necessary for us. Draw what strength you can from that.”

“Are you suggesting I ask for money? Because I'm not opposed, in fact feel free to start paying me, any day, now.”

His smirk widened.

“Nice try. You should rest. Sounds like I might have knocked something loose in your head.”

She groaned and headed for the door.

“Spoilsport,” she muttered, before exiting.