Francine’s voice broke the stillness, high and mocking. “Awww, is Lissa crying?”
Alisa froze, her drawing hand tightening into spellcasting stance without conscious thought. She turned slowly to face her longtime nemesis, her temper already frayed past the breaking point. “Leave me alone.”
“I would, but you keep putting yourself in my business, so… sorry, too late. Unless… have you finally outgrown that azeiri scadge?”
“What is your problem with Sadie? She’s never done anything to you before you provoked her.”
“This isn’t about Sadie, Lissa, it’s about you and me. I’ve always been willing to forgive you if you weren’t so klypsing arrogant.”
“Me? Arrogant? Hah!”
“I mean it. You’re capable of so much more if you’d stop holding yourself back.”
“I’m not holding back.” Alisa tried to edge around the shorter girl.
Francine moved with her. “With the proper connections, even someone like you could go far.”
“Are you trying to recruit me to your little gang of simpering followers? Because I can tell you right now, that’s never going to happen.”
Francine waved a dismissive hand. “Oh, them. You’re nothing like them. I’ve seen your practicum. Your ranking comes close to rivaling my own. All you need are the right friends to get you anywhere you want to go.”
This sounded suspiciously like Francine trying to be nice. Alisa squinted dubiously at her. “What’s the catch?”
“You’d have to stop associating with that Beliren girl, naturally.”
“Not going to happen. Sadie is worth more than all your connections combined.”
Francine laughed, a tinkling mocking sound. “If you truly believe that, then you’re as lacking in common sense as your family is in funds.” She smiled viciously. “Perhaps the two are related, if stupidity runs in the family.”
Alisa’s fingers twitched unconsciously, itching to trace a spell. “My mother is not stupid.”
“Then she should have raised you better. The correct response when one of your social betters offers you a chance to advance your circumstances beyond your wildest dreams is ‘Yes, thank you Miss LeTanieur, I’ll take your advice to heart’.”
“Get out of my way.” Alisa tightened her hand into a fist, consciously stopping herself before she started drawing attack spells.
“Why such a rush? In a hurry to go off and help Beliren cheat her way into surviving this year too?”
“Helping a friend isn’t cheating. As you well know.”
“Just swallow your stupid pride and admit the truth. You only let her hang around so you’d have an excuse to feel superior to someone. Now that you’re actually better, you don’t need her. And you’re not stupid, whatever you pretend. We could use your help.”
“Yeah, right. Who’s ‘we’ anyway, your little gang of devotees?”
Francine tossed her head airily. “I don’t need them to follow me everywhere.” Her lips twisted into a mocking smirk. “Isn’t this place a little high class for you, anyway? What are you even doing here?” Her eyes flicked past Alisa to where Enna still sat with Adrena looming over her. “Huh, little Miss Urden, I never thought you were the type to stoop so low.”
Enna slowly got to her feet. Adrena bristled, her spiked plating shifting as she inflated her draconic lungs with a threatening deep intake of breath. “I know you think you own the place,” Enna said, “but I’m not someone you can push around.”
“Of course not, Urden dear,” Francine said in the most condescending voice Alisa had ever heard - an impressive feat even for Francine. “I certainly couldn’t be responsible for your family’s continued ability to trade with Renand, now could I?”
“Leave her alone.” Alisa stepped between them. “You don’t have to be so cruel, you know.”
“Cruelty is a waste of effort. This is business and needn’t concern you. I gave you your chance and you turned me down.” She glanced at Alisa briefly, then away as though she’d already forgotten her presence. “I’ve nothing more to say to you today. Run along.”
But Alisa was in no mood to ‘run along’. She’d been having a rotten enough day already without Francine thinking she could come along and make it worse.
She may not be able to cast a fraction of the spells she once had, but she’d spent the past several months being drilled on a few very specific and very effective attacks for someone with dragon magic. She wasn’t even conscious of starting the spell until she saw Francine’s eyes narrow as her own arm whipped up to draw a protective shield between them.
Alisa was faster. Her standard attack was so well practiced by now that she adjusted for the variation in spell weight by instinct, slamming a bolt of fiery slag directly into Francine’s smug face. Francine put up her half-drawn spell just in time to block it, but the collision caused the bolt to explode in all directions.
If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
All three girls jumped back, practice-trained reflexes kicking in as droplets of spell shrapnel splattered down, sizzling and hissing against the ground. But Francine, being the closest, wasn’t quite fast enough to escape the searing spell. She shrieked and batted at her sleeve, which had caught fire.
If it were anyone else, Alisa would have rushed to help. But Francine? Alisa couldn’t help it, she burst out laughing. A sort of emotionally exhausted laughter, true, with less humor in it than usual. But it was preferable to the alternative.
The substance of the spell dissipated quickly once broken, losing its integrity within seconds as it faded from molten stone to slightly-warm spell residue.
She started drawing a counterspell even before Francine recovered.
“Stop, both of you,” Enna commanded. She had her stylus out, though what she was planning to write her spell on Alisa had no idea. Francine was building a spell two-handed, while Alisa built more layers of counterspell, watching Francine’s movements so she’d know how best to counter.
Then Enna threw her stylus like a spear. It stabbed through the center of Francine’s spell, leaving frayed spell lines dangling, then both half-finished spell and stylus fell to the floor in a floppy heap.
Alisa stared. She’d used her stylus to edit spells at close range, but usually hand-casting and enchanting were treated as separate branches of magic - related, but not the same at all. Drawn or written spells tended to be much more complex than hand-cast ones, and hand-casting with a stylus was impractical. The larger size and higher power made drawing by fingertip more reasonable, especially considering the increased margin for error. Stylus-drawn spells had to be more precise, due to the increased concentration of magic, and having a solid surface into which to inscribe them helped prevent mistakes. Drawing in the air was technically possible, but no one bothered with it.
But using a charged stylus as a weapon to dispel a spell before it could be completed? She’d never heard of anyone doing that.
Alisa let her counterspell fade, but Francine was not to be put off so easily. She swooped down and grabbed Enna's stylus. Scowling like she wanted to summon thunder from the sky, she snapped it in half.
"You should be more careful with your things." She tossed the pieces at Enna's feet.
Adrena lunged forward, but suddenly Gold was there, diving from the sky with a roar that shook the earth and echoed in Alisa's chest. The korish roared back just as loudly and leapt into the air, slamming her spiky chest into Gold's, scales grinding together with an echoing shriek. The two tumbled into the nearby tables, crushing them beneath their combined bulk. Alisa screamed a warning, unnecessarily. Anyone in the vicinity had already started to flee.
Francine started casting again, and Enna whipped out a counterspell faster than anyone Alisa had seen. She timed it perfectly, the counterspell popping Francine's attempt just before it could be completed, proving that the loss of her stylus wasn't going to stop her from blocking Francine's every move.
Alisa found herself liking Enna even more.
“Don’t just stand there, get out of here,” Enna ordered. “I’ll handle this.”
Alisa nodded. “Thanks. See you soon.” She found herself incongruously grinning as she jogged away back toward the academy. If they weren't two years apart in grades, she'd have hoped she and Enna could become closer friends. But Enna and her korish would be off to join the Traitor's growing army as soon as the year ended, and Alisa would remain here.
Or... would she? She'd agreed to join Tay's private force to protect Leviir, but she had the Traitor's personal writ of freedom. She could go anywhere. Tay would understand. And if he didn't, what did it matter? She and Zen...
Zen would be so lonely if she took him home to Leviir. Their village had no other dragons for him to show off to, not even wild ones. The occasional pack of petryska roamed the area, but rarely enough that Alisa had never seen one personally before coming to the city. She had seen a pair of rajori used as guards for a caravan, ram-horned and aggressive, but Zen was so much bigger than any of them it would be ridiculous to assume they could get along. Even semi-domesticated rajori bred for size couldn't reach her waist.
And... Alisa was making progress here. She could feel the understanding creeping closer. Dragon magic could still be used in enchanting, could still be controlled and measured and understood. Maybe not to the same extent as pure, untainted magic, but—
’LISSA!’ Zen dropped out of the sky. ’Are you safe?’
“Yeah, why—“ she glanced back at the loud altercation still taking place between Gold and Adrena. “Oh. That. Francine decided to pick a fight. Enna’s handling it.”
’Enna?’ Zen flew upward, keeping his tail wrapped protectively around Alisa like a strange anchor, stretching his immensely long body up and straighter as he peered back toward the chaos. ’Ooooh.’ He sort of drifted back down, wings beating slower, lethargically draping himself across the ground in uneven coils like a wall around Alisa. ’Who’s that?’
“Who’s what? Enna? She’s in year three, about to graduate—“
‘The dragon. How have I not seen her?’ He was staring into the distance as though he could still see the fight, and Alisa recognized his blossoming crush immediately.
“Well, I’d rather have you chasing Enna’s dragon than Francine’s…”
Zen fluttered into the air a bit, still half coiled, still protectively holding Alisa in his tail, stretching to peer over the rooftops. ’She’s amazing. She’s even stronger than Gold!’
“Ah. Since we were in different classes and the third year students were gone most of the year, we've never fought them. So you respect her for being the strongest?"
'Not the strongest. I believe Narrthkel is stronger.'
"You've seen korish before. Why are you so enamored now?" Alisa asked, before she could stop herself. She should probably leave it be, not try to persuade him out of it now that he'd finally decided to change his affections to someone she could stand.
'She is no mere korish. She is a paragon of draconic ideals. I must speak with her. Can you arrange it? You know her partner, yes? Enna? Please!'
"Yes, yes," Alisa laughed. "I'll arrange for you to meet Adrena. We should probably get back to school before we get in trouble for being late."
'They will not care. They do not enforce rules on us. As well they should not.'
"Well, if we flaunt the fact that we're ignoring them enough, that'll change."
'I will not let them control us.'
"You need to learn spellcasting."
'Eurchhgghh,' Zen growled in disgust. 'Spells are so nasty. I do not understand how you use those at all.'
"Because they're powerful, convenient, fast, and useful in almost every area of life."
'I have no need of them.'
"Not now you don't, but you will. Especially if we end up fighting."
’Will we?’ Zen sounded subdued, interested but not excited. Uncertain, conflicted how he should feel.
Alisa understood the emotion all too well. “I couldn’t say.”
’Can I…’ Zen’s thoughts dissolved into a confusion of desire and trepidation and uncertainty, then he abruptly released Alisa and flew away in a swift streak of dark silver against the sky.
“Zen! Talk to me! What’s your question?”
But he didn’t respond, his mental voice growing hazier and hazier, until he finally blocked her out completely.
Alisa sighed. “Thanks for coming to help,” she said, to no one. “I’m glad to know you still care.”
The words felt hollow now, empty and lifeless. She trudged back toward the academy alone.
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