Magical, metal bindings held them in place from their necks to their tails, dragons of every colour. I noticed some of the water dragons of the south seas because of their large tails for swimming. The elements of the others could only be speculated. Some were thinner, sleek and their wings were meticulously curved; they must’ve specialised in wind or flight. Others were huge, muscular, rugged, and donned thick scales that looked stronger than steel, I assumed they must’ve been earth dragons. Others were bright white or blue, with sharp edges to their scales, horns and overall design. I wasn’t too sure about those, nor did I know what fire dragons would look like.
I rambled past them, periodically slowing down in amazement of their extraordinary mystique, but in disgust at their captive state. Their eyes locked onto me, and whilst some of them branded me with honourable titles like ‘enslaver’, ‘filth’, or even gave threats, I chose to ignore them because they didn’t know better. Walking along the wide pathway, I wondered why a prison for them even existed. After all, Winter and the vice principal, Derek, did teleport them back to their homeland, right?
“You!” one of them yelled out, but his speech was a little slurred, heavy, and a bit difficult to understand.
I turned, and immediately recognised the dragon. It was the first one I’d seen, the very same dragon that destroyed a part of the principal’s office, the very one I bound until his capture. I walked up to the beast held behind glass. “Why are you here?” I asked.
“You already, know,” he said, taking his time to talk.
“No, no I don’t. That’s why I’m asking. Didn’t they send you back to your homeland?”
“Back to my land? Don’t, be foolish!” it bellowed. “You greedy piles of excrement only wish to steal from us!”
What is he talking about? “Steal what? I’m not following.”
“You, really do not know?” he asked and I shook my head in denial. His maw, when he spoke, looked rather strange. As he told me of the elements, and how draconic magic was difficult for us to learn, I realised that his tongue was missing! I wanted to inquire about it, but the mental impact of his words robbed my mind of the question, focusing my attention elsewhere. “This wretched prison, does not just contain my kin, it extracts our draconic energy to feed the surface with power.”
Did I just hear what I did? Was I in a dream? How could they do this? Why, would they do this? Who knew they were doing this? So many questions flooded the banks of my mind. But one question, or dilemma, rather, strutted about in my mind. Should I try to free them?
I entered the cell through the cut-out and encroached the leviathan. “What element do you possess?” I inquired, making small talk. He replied with fire, laughing wickedly and telling me that’s how he blew up the top of the office. I climbed up from his wings that were restrained to the ground and walked on his back. He tried moving, questioning my action in the process, but the magical bindings held him firmly. I sat on his neck and took a look inside his jaw. I wonder…
I teleported to my room and created some green pills, then returned to his cell to administer said pills. He was defiant and spat out the first few, thinking it’d kill him. I couldn’t fault him. Thankfully, he came to trust me enough for at least one to enter his system.
“What, is this?” he asked me, “I feel, so much better.”
I undid a transmutation a pill and it returned to paste form. “I have to apply this on your tongue. You won’t bite my hand off, will you?”
He shook his head and opened the cavernous jaw, showing off his fangs. I leaned over and delivered the treatment, my own little way of somewhat atoning for what I did. “I’m sorry, that this happened. Had I known…” I paused, not exactly knowing what I’d do.
The wound closed up, but didn’t restore the rest of his tongue like I’d hoped. I’ll have to learn restoration magic. “Why do they cut off your tongues?” I asked, jumping down from his neck and landing a little wobbly.
“This might come back to bite me one day,” he exhaled, “but our tongues are our weapons. Much like staffs direct the output of spells for smooth-skins, our tongues do the same for us. Without them, the elements we breathe as dragon’s breath, just spreads uncontrollably and hurt us.”
I have to learn restoration magic. I need to talk to uncle Chiron too. And if I choose to free them, I have to learn portal magic. I stepped out, “I’ll be back,” I said and walked along the rest of the way. At the very end of the path was a particularly huge pitch-black dragon with scars all over his face and body to show his experience on the receiving end of his disputes.
“Are you their leader?” I asked, but he didn’t respond, only snarled.
Why do they think they can scare me? I stepped into his cell, making sure to remain outside his reach even though he was restrained.
“Do you want to help your kin?” I asked and he opened his mouth, maybe to say something, then closed it in reluctance. He blinked a few times, glaring at me.
“You. Have you a mother named Clara? Or a relative named Chiron?”
I squinted my eyes in suspicion, “Yes. You know them?”
“Emily!” his great, yet thick speech rocked the whole place.
Why does he know my name?
“I’ve longed, to meet you! But I regret that we first meet in this situation.”
“Who are you? How come you know me?” I asked and earned a weak laugh.
“Razz’ol Blackheart is mine name. And you, are Emily Crescent, daughter of Clara Crescent and…” he paused.
He knows my father?
“Razz’ol Blackheart,” he finished his sentence.
I stared, a little empty-minded, not at all focusing on what I should. It took a few long seconds before the depth of his words made my heart implode.
This gargantuan monstrosity that peered down at me. There were countless scars and battle wounds afflicted about his black scales. That same dragon just told me that, he was my father. The scroll, was right?! I wondered. Blindly believing something to be true and finding cause to believe were two different things entirely. My mind couldn’t handle it. This was my father, Razz’ol Blackheart, a dragon!
How do I address him? What do I say? How should I react? What face am I supposed to make? All questions no one could answer, for no one but I was born of human and dragon. None but I was tainted, or empowered rather, by demonic energy. “You are, my father?”
“You, do not seem surprised,” he commented, exhaling through his elongated nostrils. “No matter, this is no place for you. You must leave here and return to Clara. I fear you might get ca–”
“Mother is dead…” I cut across him.
His breathing stopped, and understandably, his speech. I imagined he wouldn’t take it well despite dragons’ prideful mask of heartlessness. I treated him, much like I treated the dragon before. He barely moved, only stared blankly at the nothingness in front of him. “I’ll, come back.”
I teleported out into a small, secluded corner of the near-dead library. My father is a dragon, I kept repeating those words to myself, over and over like a broken record. A dragon! Should I help them escape? What kind of dragon was he? Would he do bad things if I released him? What was the correct thing to do?
This mental affliction would only cease when I began practicing portal magic. My arsenal of spells and abilities were a rather passive school of skills. And arcane or utilitarian magics that humans were good at would not suffice should I choose to do something rash.
Eblis’ blood certainly made my little breath of fire a little better than the first-years, but against the likes of Winter’s skill, or Derek’s tricks, it wouldn’t amass to a great enough spell. I needed to either improve on it by visiting and risking my life at the homeland of the salamanders, or learning shadow magic. But both would be preferred.
I hadn’t the leisure of focusing on just one spell, and since learning directly from the salamanders meant somehow persuading them to not kill me, trust me, and teach me, I knew my progress in restoration and portal magic would suffer. Demonology was the obvious thing I’d have opted for. To be sure, I searched the many texts in the library, but failed to find any educational material on shadow magic.
I resorted back to the grimoire when I sat alone in my room. Reading through the script, I found that shadow energy, as opposed to other forms of destructive magic, attack the very essence of life, causing a slow or fast death depending on the nature of the spell without any visible wounds.
The very first and most basic spell was one dubbed Shadow Sphere. By the drawing in the book, it was a concentrated ball of shadow energy, bright purple to illustrate its nefarious power. There was a strange haze or cloud-like smoke that trailed behind it, also of the amethystine nature demonology was so fond of. I tried casting it, holding one hand, but the ball of energy wasn’t smooth. It looked like water trapped within a balloon and ready to burst. The spell failed.
I grumbled, and kept on amassing magic into the palm of my hands, trying to form the perfect shadow sphere. Into the night, I stubbornly stayed awake, until sleep forced itself onto me. My doorbell woke me up, its chiming effect becoming synonymous with the much-hated moments of waking. Begrudgingly, I opened the door, expecting Mandy’s pretty eyes to behold me, but instead I found cold white ones. Winter.
“I trust, your stay so far has been, comfortable, miss Crescent?” he asked, a smooth grin on his face. After we made some small talk, he left.
He found me out, didn’t he? I felt the suspicion from him a mile away. In fact, he wasn’t even suspicious, he knew I was in his little dragon den. I wasn’t sure if he knew how I entered, but if he did, Mandy might’ve been in danger. Whatever decision I had to make, had to be made fast.
After a couple minutes, I told Mandy what just transpired, and what I felt Winter really meant by our idle chatter. “I can’t get you involved in this,” I told her.
“What did you think?” was the first thing she asked of me. “I helped capture some of those dragons on the order of Winter, even though he said they had committed crimes against humans, I never really saw or heard the kingdom acting up against the dragons, or complaining even.”
My heart cringed. I knew she probably went against her own code for Winter’s sake, and it looked like it was killing her inside. She was strong, but against the other Sentry head officers, principal and vice principal, it was martyrdom.
I had to protect her, or hide her in some way. But how? We needed to get out of this place, but I had to prepare first. I told her to get what she needed from her room and enter mine, then I put a magical barrier around the room that would disallow entering or exiting without my magical signature. I transmuted the pillars that helped in my alchemical mass production into three gemstones, an emerald, sapphire, and ruby, then pushed them into a pocket in my backpack.
My collection of books gifted to me by Chiron was limited, but resourceful. However, I couldn’t bear to leave without getting my grubby fingers on the wealth that was the academy’s library. I gathered a mountain of books and teleported to my room with them, thinking they might be of use in the future. I packed them all out neatly on a bookshelf in my room and transmuted the whole thing, shelf and books included, into a more portable ring with a little page symbol on it. I began looking like the spoilt kid of a rich merchant with those four rings.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
I was packed, and Mandy was packed, though a little silent. I apologised for getting her into trouble but she shook her head, “I’m, glad you did what you did. Maybe I just needed a similar mind to tell me what we did was wrong.” She was so brittle, a stunning contrast from her usual persona. I tiptoed a little, and sealed a kiss. There was no doubt in my mind that it grabbed her attention. Her wide eyes proved that, and so did her kiss back.
“Wait here,” I told her, and teleported away, right outside Vaughn’s room in the castle.
“Are you lost?” he asked, probably not recognising me without my lab coat. “Emily?” he grew confused when I turned around, “What are you doing here?”
“I, need your help to portal someone back here.”
With that, Mandy and I now shared the guest room I’d been in when I first came to the king’s residence. “I’d like an explanation as to why I just brought an academy head officer here. But, you did save prince Marcus’ life, so I won’t pry. You should tell Sven, as a courtesy at least.” He stood upright instead of leaning on the door’s frame and left.
“That’s the archmage! Emily, are we–”
“In the castle? Yes.” I smiled, telling her not to worry too much. I brought back my pillars to their full forms, and put back on my lab coat, making sure to transmute the academy’s designs and logo out of it so it’d just be a plain white coat.
Vaughn, Mandy, and I walked into the royal court. He was to ask the king, Sven Aran, to grant us an audience, but when the king noticed us at the corner of his eyes, he called us into a back room, primarily to ask me once more if I could take up position of head chemist. I laughed, invoking a little shock in Mandy and befuddlement in the archmage and king’s eyes.
“That, might actually be possible now,” I tittered, “however, the importance of that pales in comparison to what I have to tell you.”
He tilted his head, brushing his cape aside. “You have no reason to believe me, and I know your time is important, so I’ll make this short. Arcanist Academy is imprisoning dragons and siphoning their draconic magic against their will.”
He laughed, “That’s preposterous! You’re right, I’ve no reason to believe you, but I’d like to, seeing that you’re Marcus’ saviour. I’m aware my power as king is great, but I won’t boldly intrude into the grounds of Winter’s academy claiming he’s doing something so dastardly without some sort of sound reasoning. I’d look like a fool. So, I ask of you, to give me a reason to believe what you say is true.”
“Fair enough,” I told him. I only thought from his perspective after he gave me his perspective.
He placed his hands on his hips and exhaled, “I hear from Vaughn that you wish to stay here with your friend. You’re more than welcome, but nothing is free. My price is that you spend a little time with Marcus, or help Vaughn in his duties.”
Damn, I don’t have time for that. There was no room for me to rest. This was primarily just a safe place for Mandy to stay. I swallowed the consequences of my actions, and opted to help Vaughn. My recent discoveries had me not in the cheeriest of moods, and I didn’t have the energy to fake it with the prince.
Mandy went back to the room whilst the archmage and I went to a faraway hold in the east of Venreval. The jarl’s physician there was to be restocked with pills, coincidently, my green pills that they’d received. “If you are to become Venreval’s official chemist, it would make sense to greet those in similar professions,” the serious archmage advised.
“Vaughn, can you teach me portal magic?” I asked, completely off-topic, “The books’ explanations are a little…”
We walked into the longhouse, meeting and greeting chemists, physicians and the like. “One as talented as you have issues with portal magic?” he jested, a little glimpse into his more hidden personality. “Focus on where you wish to go, but don’t think of appearing there. Think about creating a door, then imagine behind the door is a little path that leads to another door.”
I made a short portal that would carry me just a couple metres away. Going into the portal made me end up with a foot stuck in the mud, in a pig sty nearby. What he explained wasn’t spot on, but it was definitely a better way of thinking about it. Whilst we visited some towns around Venreval, I kept practising, over and over. I had to perfect this. It was, after all, my key to freeing my father.
I’d teleport to the mountain Eblis died at and practise my demonology there. The shadow sphere proved just as difficult as teleportation, but being able to constantly cast it and having an immediate result made the learning curve a little more tolerable. In about a month, I was able to perfect the shadow sphere, despite only testing it out on patches of grass. They’d shrivel up, lose their colour and turn to a drab brown and eventually become black and dried. The shadow sphere really did exactly what the grimoire preached, but there was something else. After hurling the ball of shadow energy, when it touched with any surface, it would explode a bit to engulf its target. A frightening demise to anyone unfortunate enough to taste it.
My portal magic, on the other hand, was not yet perfect, but much better than when I started. I improved slowly, gradually. Restoration magic, the expert kind that could regrow limbs and lost parts of the body, was another thing entirely. There were many people afflicted with great bodily harm all over Venreval but I couldn’t just practise on them.
I had to do a necessary evil and practise on animals, but at least they were animals that had been in territorial fights with those of their kin. It wasn’t a complete guilt-free experience though, but the spell was at least rather easy to master because of my profound knowledge from alchemy and herbs. I somehow knew how to rebuild on a cellular level and how to incorporate the rest of the animal’s body into helping. I’d probably become one of the greatest healers in a week, but I had yet to do anything on an actual person.
I desired to visit the salamanders to the immediate north that Natrix, the chief of the water dragons in the south seas recommended. I wanted to assume they knew who my father was, and would wish to help when time asked for it. But I needed to defend myself against their dragon fire in case they couldn’t be negotiated with. Natrix’s help was needed. After all, water was a good deterrent to fire.
I teleported to the shores of the south seas once again and breathed my greatest breath of fire upwards, acting as a flare.
Natrix alone didn’t rush to me, but a whole fleet of water dragons, some landing from the skies and some crawling out the waters. “That,” Natrix looked to be seething with rage, “is a declaration of war.” He grumbled and walked around me.
“Oh, no, no! That’s not why I did that. I just wanted your attention,” I told him, and he calmed after learning of my ignorance of that dogma. “I’m here, because I wanted to properly learn to wield the water element, like Vaughn.”
“We accepted and taught Vaughn because he was too young to know to wield the power as a weapon. We will not teach someone who can, distinguish between right and wrong,” he warned me. I then asked what other ways was there to defend against dragon fire and his serpentine eyes opened up. “You, wish to challenge the salamanders?” he inquired, bringing his face just an arm’s length away from me.
“No. I want their help. I know why dragons hate humans so much. I know we’re stealing. I, also know who Razz’ol Blackheart is now. I’ve met him,” I said, earning a subtle chuckle from Natrix.
“Then, you seek their help, to–”
“Break the dragons out of imprisonment by force, if my plans fail.”
I incurred an even heartier bout of laughter. “You are a strange one. How about this,” he raised himself up from his slouched position, “you make a replica, a sculpture of a dragon with water, and I will teach you personally.”
“Deal! Don’t go back on your words now,” I warned him, a stupid smile on my face. Any progress I had kept my mind from maddening. With flapping wings, sand swirled upwards into the air and the dragons returned to their business after our discussions. I had some work to do but it’d work out.
Every day, I practised sculpting the dragon, a small one even, but every time I thought I had it, Natrix would give it a failing grade, saying it wasn’t yet detailed enough, nor was it big enough. He wanted to see the scales, the scars, the eyes and eyelids, down to a bumpy and rough tongue.
After a couple months of trying and failing, I began to lose hope, but at least using portal magic instead of teleporting every time I had to visit the south seas made me so much closer to mastering portals. I began doing it absentmindedly, my focus was automated and I fussed less and less about perfecting it every passing day, until, shockingly, he passed me.
“What?” I asked, looking at the dragon. I had not even realised when it’d become as detailed as it did.
“You pass.”
“So, you’ll teach me?!” I asked excitedly. Finally, my labour bore fruit.
He shook his head to my dismay, “You already taught yourself. The essence of controlling water is calmness of the mind, true serenity. If you falter, or get too excited, the magic wanes. Go on, trying summoning water and blasting it forth.”
To say it was great was an understatement. Water flowed through my hands like it wanted to bust open flood gates. It could easily uproot the strongest trees with the force it came out with. I stood, stupefied at the power, yet, unruffled enough to maintain it. “I’m grateful and everything, but couldn’t you have just told me these things from the start?”
“I was lazy,” the beast admitted, something I never imagined they’d feel.
“Oh… I don’t know if I’m thankful or not.”
“You better be, ingrate. I only agreed to train you,” which you didn’t, “because of your claim to free the dragons. And I only trusted that claim, because your father is Razz’ol. I can only hope your obligation to know him brings you to free him, and the rest of the dragons.”
His words hit hard. Only an incorrigible and obdurate husk of a human would turn their backs on their father, right? And I certainly was the opposite. So why then, did I question if what I was doing was correct? This was a big decision, an irreversible process with dire consequences. Perhaps the seriousness of the situation scared me from doing what I thought was right, but my longing to know my father incurred the restlessness that haunted me whenever I stopped to catch my breath. Every moment was vital, there was no spare room for daunting thoughts to intrude and trample upon my resolve. “I will. If you’ll excuse me, I have to go to the salamanders.”
“One of us will fly you across the river, but after your feet touches onto Emberscale, you will journey on your own.”
I nodded, but returned to the castle first to inform Mandy, king Sven and Vaughn of my departure. Mandy totally rejected the idea, but I reckoned the salamanders, Razz’ol’s kind, would be the most eager to help. They were my best choice if I needed help to free the dragons.
The king only saw it as sending an extremely beneficial person to Venreval walking to their death, so he tried convincing me otherwise too. Vaughn on the other hand, was of a more neutral position. Perhaps the archmage’s experience in being raised by the reptilians made him less biased.
The next day, I set off to the south seas and instead of breathing fire, I casted a large water dragon that would pull their attention. My ride crawled out the ocean and Natrix said his farewell to me. I’d never held onto something so tightly in my life. Their speed was astonishing, almost unbearable. I was too scared to fully enjoy it.
We crossed into Emberscale, home of the salamanders. The dragon that helped me across the ocean-sized river left, slipping into the very river and swimming back for safety’s sake. I began my trek into the lush green shrubbery. Tall trees blotted out the sun, long vines hung from their branches. The call of the exotic birds made me feel like I was on an exciting adventure, but I refused to let myself be overly optimistic.
Days of walking and the landscape began losing its vibrancy. The place became drab, snow-like particles floated in the air, but it was not at all cold, quite the contraire. Grey clouds kept the sun’s rays out, but I felt like I was in an oven, slowing baking. I removed my lab coat and any other unwanted slow-roasters and chucked it away in my backpack.
After a while, I stumbled upon a noticeable change in the ground. It went from lush rainforests, to a dryer, hotter grassland, then a patchy chaparral, but after that, a desert was not what followed. It was dead ground, as if the very life had been sucked out of it. A gigantic crater of epic proportions. I couldn’t see the end of it because of the bad visibility.
In time, I could hear the salamanders’ roars or cries, I knew they were close. I marched for hours, until I realised what the particles were. Ash! This was ash smashing my longsighted prowess to pieces. It was obvious now I was in the crater of a volcano, but how big was it? I walked, continuously, the visibility reaching near zero, until it all lifted. I passed the last layer of ash. The formation of the grey particles was unnatural and I figured it was the dragons’ doing. But why had none of them encroach or attack me?
What my eyes beheld was another deeper crater. Dozens, nay, hundreds of dragons laid about, flew around, and rested near the hearth of the volcano. Bright orange emanated from the centre, but looking closer, I noticed a lone dragon very close to the actual lava.
I skated down to him, assuming he was their makeshift leader in the absence of my father. His back was turned as he basked blissfully in the heat before him. The other dragons’ eyes were already on me. I was probably roasted alive many times over in their heads, but none of them said a word, or made any moves. They’re not so bad.
“Hello?” I shouted down at him, skating here and there to go closer, but regretting it a little because of the heat and somewhat volatile lava. He didn’t answer, even after I called a few times. I wondered if to breathe fire, but remembered Natrix words, that it was a sign of waging war. However, fire was the salamander’s element, so it wouldn’t be offensive to them, would it? Here goes…
I aimed my breath upwards and let out the biggest fire breath I could. The other dragons atop the crater ran down, getting really close to me. Without a second thought, I casted the barrier spell around myself, but they stopped before their claws could reach me, in hesitance.
They all kept glancing at the leader, who was still very much immobile and silent. Their anger was boiling on edge, their deep growls a sign of their ruthlessness. I actually quaked. Unlike the water dragons who wanted to instill fear for the purpose of avoiding a dispute, these salamanders would dine on me in glee. They were very horned, having a variation of horn styles on their jaw, heads, neck and shoulders. Some even had exoskeletal spikes on their wings and down the middle of their backs.
Their constant glancing at the leader made me realise they couldn’t harm me without his permission, so I said the only thing that they might’ve listened to in their rage and eagerness.
“Razz’ol Blackheart!” I yelled out at the top of my lungs and the leader raised his head up, turning his neck to face me. His face was aged, very much so. My father was nowhere near as scarred as he was. He could be identified as an elder by those scars alone.
“You come to Emberscale with the help of a water dragon, journey here by yourself like you own the place and have the gall to mention my son’s name through your filthy mouth?!” He fully turned around and stood tall, his four legs clawing into the earth in rage. His size was reminiscent of my father’s, but his scales not as youthful or shiny. “Give me one reason I shouldn’t incinerate you where you stand, smooth-skin!”