"Dragon magic is not as simple as ordinary magic," Rotilda Meprin said, striding back and forth in front of the class.

She was another of the new teachers who’d been brought in by specific order of the Traitor at the time of the upheaval. And sitting through her first class with the woman, Alisa vastly preferred Lane Ryvas.

At least the practical dragon magic lessons were purposeful. But ‘Theory of Dragon Magic’? What did that even mean? Apparently, rehashing tedious details that no one cared about.

“It interacts in unique ways with every other power alignment, because the primary element of dragon magic is not fire. This is a common misconception. It is dragonfire, which is a specific and very much distinct power from fire. It is as much a fire magic as an unaligned spell could be called water magic."

It took Alisa a moment to get what she was trying to say. Humans were inherently aligned with no element, but she supposed there was a sort of liquidity to their spellcasting, a fluidness that did speak to their nature as semi-water beings. Dragons, being fire, were in a way the complete opposite.

"Which is why we see such dramatic effects with combining dragonfire or dragon magic with ordinary fire. The powers do not align because they are similar but different. That difference is what causes the volatility."

Yes, yes, we get it. Alisa doodled spell formulas across the page while half watching Zen, looping and twisting, climbing up the wall to stare out the window, coiling himself around a table leg just because he could.

He’d quickly learned that once she was seated in a classroom he had to stay quiet, so he tended to crawl around the floor poking at other dragons, or students' legs and feet, or stretching himself up the back of Alisa's chair to peer over her shoulder. He would sometimes spend minutes staring down at her hand writing, or spellcasting, as though trying to understand it, then get tired of that and run in tiny circles or hiss at one of the other dragons.

He’d gotten used to being around other people and dragons faster than she’d anticipated. Within a few days he completely lost his reticence. When something scared him, he'd hiss and retreat, then almost immediately slink up on it as though hoping to get a different response.

Alisa supposed this was reasonable for a creature living among mostly-friendly humans, but it wouldn't serve him well if he ever went out in the wild and she told him as much. She was still working over the plan to escape the Academy before they could be fully pressed into service in the war.

Things continued to change rapidly, work crews reshaping the Academy to serve its new purpose. They'd demolished several walls and restructured the lecture hall into a tiered building with only four large rooms instead of the former dozen classrooms, to accommodate the growing dragon population. Every student had a monstrously growing beast at their side at all times, and the classroom was no longer sufficient. No longer did tiny dragons cling to clothing or wrap around shoulders, most walked or hovered well away from their mages, the sheer size requiring them to give clearance so as not to knock the humans over with an ungainly wing or haphazard claw.

Alisa was one of the few whose dragon still shared her seat, Zen remaining thin and agile despite his rapid growth. His lithe snakelike body continued to elongate as he grew; he could wrap around her waist four times now and still have length left over. His main body did thicken, but remained no thicker than her arm. His tail had begun developing spikes at its end (which he employed against any renegade grasses with great glee) and the spines along his back becoming more solid and rigid. His face changed as well, growing a crown of tiny horns. His legs remained thin and short, more newt-like than anything, though their claws grew sharp and black.

His scales had clarified into a brilliant grey, like faintly tarnished silver that gleamed in the slightest light. Lighter and darker markings flowed along his back, curling in thick patterns across the scales around his wings and forelegs, then flattening out into lines toward the tail. Nahdno Wave, Reen had called it. A rare and beautiful pattern. The heavy plates along his back were brightest toward his head, fading out to his normal dark silver colour by the tail, while the smaller scales across his chest were darker than the rest of him.

Alisa may be biased, but she rather thought he was one of the prettiest dragons in their class. Though Mirva was also beautiful, her deep ocean-blue scales setting off her rounder face to great advantage. Azendandor’s face was thinner, with an almost sly look to him, but maybe that’s only because she knew him so well.

"Water magic is hard for us to control because it is so closely aligned to our innate power's natural state. This is why there are far fewer water spells than any other type."

Well, that was completely false. Nearly all illusion was built off a foundation of water. Ice spells were some of the most common for attacks, due to their stability. Steam was incredibly powerful and heavily utilized in manufacturing. Water could be used for a lot besides being wet. It retained pride of place as one of the base elements for a reason.

Any respect Alisa had held for this 'dragon theory' teacher was rapidly disintegrating.

"Add dragonfire into the mix, and that's two elements you'll be unable to utilize."

Unable? Alisa scoffed and started composing a fire spell with water for stabilization. Just watch. Fire wouldn't beat her any more than dragonfire would cripple her. She could learn. She would adapt. And she'd show them all.

She wrote ‘Dragonfire + fire’ at the corner of her page, then started trying to work out the necessary components for making them synergize without fighting each other. It would require a lot more testing to figure out the exact nature of their interactions, but Alisa was sure it couldn’t be as simple or final as ‘they don’t work together and do random things every time’. She would figure it out.

"There are—”

“The library’s on fire!” shouted one of the boys near the window. He leapt to his feet, staring outside. “Quick, someone do something!”

Alisa gasped and stood, ignoring the teacher as she rushed to the window to see. Indeed, a thick column of smoke rose from the building, flames licking out the windows. People were running out, others running toward the conflagration. She saw the shimmer of spells being cast, but the fire showed no signs of diminishing. Every time one section was put out, more fire sprang up somewhere else.

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Then she saw why. A glint of crimson barely seen through a window, then a new burst of flame from a patch recently-extinguished.

“There’s a dragon trapped in there!” Alisa shouted, pointing. “Someone must have left a window open, a wild dragon found its way in and then, panicked by its inability to escape, it’s burning the place around itself to make a way out.”

They had to get it out, but an angry wild dragon would be a handful for anyone. She turned to the useless teacher, hoping she’d have something useful to contribute, but she only stood with wide eyes and her hands pressed to her mouth in shock.

Alisa could understand the feeling, the desperate emptiness of knowing the library was burning tugged at her heart, but every moment they delayed was another moment of priceless knowledge being destroyed. Now wasn’t the time to freeze, it was a time to act. She turned away from the window.

“Mrs. Meprin, I understand that this is a shock, but there’s a dragon trapped in the library. We need to get it out. How do we do that?”

“I don’t know!” the teacher shrieked. “I study theory, not practicum! I don’t know what to do!” She sounded on the verge of hysteria.

“Obviously we need to break a hole in the wall,” Francine said. She started undoing the latches on the classroom windows. The moment she pulled it open, the heavy scent of smoke suffused the room and Alisa coughed as it stung her eyes. It wasn’t thick enough to be dangerous this far from the burning building, she didn’t think, but it was definitely present. “You, you, and you, get these windows open. Anyone who can hit a target, we’re aiming for…” Francine hesitated a moment, then nodded. “The third window on the second floor. Blast it open, blast the wall around it. We need a gap big enough the dragon will notice it.”

The students she’d indicated started opening more windows, and Alisa reluctantly had to admit that Francine was right. If they could blast a hole in the outer wall, the dragon could fly out and away and it should stop rampaging. It would be intentional damage to school property, but if they did nothing there would be much more lost. She took her place by an open window and started casting.

She may have a longstanding hatred for Francine based on her behavior and arrogance, but if there was one thing they shared in common it was a respect for learning bordering on obsession. Neither of them wanted to see the library lost.

Francine’s dragon growled, deep and uncertain, and she stopped conducting the attack and turned to see what had drawn his attention.

Josephiin burst into the classroom, sobbing and screaming something inarticulate. She grabbed Francine’s shoulders, bawling out something Alisa couldn’t make out.

Francine must have understood, because she went quite pale. “You’re sure?” she asked, voice faint but as prim as always.

Josephiin nodded frantically, tears streaming down her face.

“I’ll handle it,” Francine said. “Here, sit down. It’ll be alright. Gold! Come.”

Her Grandus, who apparently she’d named for the colour of its scales, got to its feet and followed her obediently like a trained dog as Francine ran from the room.

Alisa shook her head and returned her focus to the library. They were making progress. The window was broken and the bricks around it began to show signs of impact damage.

A moment later, she saw Francine and Gold emerge onto the grounds below, running toward the library. Francine pointed to the opening, and Gold took to the air, arrowing through the opening with enough force that the weakened sections of wall broke and collapsed at the impact.

They all heard the screams, the shrieks and bellows as Gold fought the rogue dragon within. Alisa stopped casting, the others falling still around her. They'd done their job, now all that remained was for Gold to toss the intruder out so it could fly away.

Minutes passed. The fires began to die down as the extinguisher crews continued their work, as more teachers and older students joined in, but new gouts of flame sparked off regularly as the screeches and shriek of claw on scale continued within.

The students watched with bated breath, helpless spectators to the unknown drama below. Every moment Alisa expected to see the wild dragon thrown out, Gold trotting back to Francine's side to be patted, but the sounds died down beneath the roar of the flames with still no sign of either dragon.

Then, a glint of gold, and Gold slowly flew out of the smoke, his wings thrumming rapidly as he flapped madly to keep aloft, ungainly. He held something bright red in his claws, red with more red dripping, the smaller dragon hanging limp and unstruggling.

Gold landed awkwardly and Francine held her arms out for the limp form. Gold dropped it into her hands and stepped back to prance around its master like a pleased hound playing fetch.

Only when Francine turned back toward them did the truth become obvious.

It wasn’t a wild dragon at all.

It was Josephiin’s Quetzlen, the one Alisa had tried to convince Zen to befriend, the one who’d spent so long with medical problems. Its body hung limp, its spine twisted into an unnatural angle.

Josephiin let out a whimpering gasp, then collapsed to her knees.

Sadie's mouth formed a quiet, "oh," and she put her hands to her mouth.

Francine patted Gold’s head, then turned and walked slowly back to the building. Josephiin’s harsh broken sobs were the only sound, as everyone else stood awkwardly silent. Distant sounds of the teachers still battling the fire drifted up, but they were only background noise.

Zen whined faintly, a high thin sound that barely reached Alisa though he sat on her shoulder, and Francine stepped into the room. Josephiin jumped up and ran to her, then hugged the limp broken feathered form to her chest. Francine put her arms around Josephiin and they stood there for a long moment.

“Ah, um. Class is dismissed,” mumbled the useless teacher, breaking the silence.

Alisa wasn’t sure how to feel. Josephiin had been unkind, deliberately and consistently, to Alisa and Sadie and probably others as well. But she somehow couldn’t feel vindicated at this display of raw grief. She looked away and left the room without speaking, retreating to her own room.

She unclipped Zen and removed his harness mechanically, hanging it in its place without ever consciously registering the actions.

Something had gone wrong. From the very beginning. But the loss of any dragon was a shock. For so long, Alissa had thought of dragons as, distantly, pests and trouble, and more closely hyperactive bundles of frustrating adorable. Now, they were vulnerable creatures that could be hurt or killed like anyone else. It was a sobering realization.

The library was beyond saving. Only the basements contained anything that could be salvaged. Thousands of volumes of knowledge, gone in a flash. Alisa could think of a dozen books she wished she’d taken out just so they would have survived. As it was, all she had was a dumb book of dragon jokes she’d been reading to Zen for fun.

Later, news circulated that the Quetzlen had attacked and violently mauled another student’s dragon, injuring the student himself when he tried to step in, then went into a rage and began burning everything in sight.

Rumors insisted that the whole affair was the fault of an incorrectly-drawn bond circle. Or that the dragon had been possessed by an evil djinn. (Alisa was quite certain there was no such thing as a djinn.)

Regardless of how and why, the what was very clear. He’d gone wild, and had to be put down.

Lia took advantage of this example to try and harangue Alisa into moving forward with the bond while Zen slept off his latest meal, but Alisa pointed out that the snaky nature of the Quetzlen made it a close analogue for Zen, and the mis-drawn bond had almost certainly been the source of the problem.

Proving she couldn’t possibly draw the bond correctly in a space as small as Zen’s side was no help, as Lia insisted that it was different. Quetzlens had feathers, their wings were difficult to reach with a stylus. Zen had big, wide, leathery wings - perfect canvas for a quick little spell circle.

But Alisa could be stubborn when she wanted to, and she’d promised Zen he could make the choice for himself. Their trust was still too fragile for her to be willing to break her word to him. And that was that.

Josephiin did not return to class that day, or the next. Three days later she briefly visited the morning assembly, then packed up and quietly left, never to return.

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