The patter of steps echoed through the halls of a posh estate. Above the light steps, gasping. That of desperation and anxiety. There was something off about the night. Whether it was the enigmatic man, with a face covered in black scales, the girl had encountered wandering through the halls or the overwhelming sense of dread that drifted. With every step, she pressed the black strings of hair from her face until she disregarded it altogether. She knew the quarter she was in well enough. It was where she and her mother would spend the days away when they weren’t out exploring the garden or seeing distant lands beyond their home, she’d fly them to with spectral wings. The time they spent together unlocked a sense she believed was natural. Her mother’s thoughts, her feelings, she could feel all of it, though not as clearly as her own. A memory of her mother came to her, now of all times. Further filling her with dread,
“Even when the world seems to be falling apart, we have to hold on to hope. Take what we have and create the best of times with friends and enemies both. Those memories, times of days spent tired from fighting or full at a campfire with allies are what I fight to protect.” She chuckled to herself, wiping away a tear that escaped her eye. She looked on at her daughter and stroke her head. Lying a kiss on her forehead before looking her in the eyes. “You’re too young to understand, maybe, but once you are old enough, you will. You can create your own Neverland. Just don’t lose your way building it.”
A yaw down the next hall and she would pass her sister’s room, then further down would be her father’s study. The dread had her by throat. She felt as if she couldn’t breathe. A pivot at the corner then, she bolted down the hall. She found her sister’s door closed and undisturbed and further down the study doors shut. Blue smoke appeared to seep from under the door, but she was unsure of what it could mean. All there was to be understood is that something was amiss. As she reached for the doorknob, she froze still. The knob had become isolated under an opaque blanket of ice. A storm of chilly wind brushed between her toes from beneath the door. The blue smoke wrapped around her legs, raising a sense of urgency that toppled every other sense. She had to open the door. Screaming rang out, forcing her hand to turn. And as her body went cold, she forced it onto the door. Before a sight from which she would never recover. A man, she knew him as her father, had a knife in his hand, lodged in a woman's chest. It was her mother, blood freezing around the red-coated blade. Both of their eyes turned fixed on the girl at the door, the mother’s hand reaching out. Seeing this, the man released the knife and allowed the woman’s body to fall lifelessly to the floor. Surrounded by her white hair like a blanket, the life in her sky-colored eyes went dim. Pupils vanishing entirely while the storm of smoke engulfed her body. Now stood a girl and her father at the scene of their family member’s death. The man said nothing, knowing no words could explain what the girl had just saw. The girl, infuriated, frightened, enraged, terrified. A mix of emotions building and shattering in rapid succession. One remained, through the uncertainty of what would happen next: Fear. She fled, the blue smoke tailing her. The black strands had slowly turned white. Her body suddenly became cold. None of it was worth questioning. As far as she knew, her life was in danger. She had to escape. To run far away from the man who took the most important person in her life. To come back one day and inflict the pain and anguish on him as he did on her.
***
Ten years later.
A Gardenia—a white shrub upon a bush, nothing special like that of a rose or daisy. The title sounds unremarkable, as if it’s something simple to be viewed and never admired in the same way as others. Ruler of the mobile machination there is The Lily of the Qu Long. Mercenary of the Southern Continent, there is The Primrose of Sands. Names that carry prestige and demand respect. The climb to greatness is generally visible to those around the role. A moment where they conquer the odds set against them, overcome a trial that earns them that reputation. My trial? To kill the man who flung my life into turmoil. The man I once called Father.
A white-haired girl observed the plants blooming along the snow blanketed crag as she stood above. A chill breeze pressed a biting air into her nose through the fog that surrounded her. The cold never disturbed her, since she was constantly cold except for the times she draped herself in several warmed blankets. She sighed, wiped her nose, then stepped back. “What a waste. ‘Do your time.’ Lavia says. ‘Prove yourself, and I’ll allow you to travel without your guards.’ Bull crap.” The snow crunched beneath her feet as she pivoted from the cliff and walked toward a battered citadel. “Then Arden sends us to the most nonsensical position to ‘establish a foothold’ mere kilos from the enemy’s first prominent attack. Idiots.” Walls of ice-covered stone surrounded her, opening to an encampment of men and women hard at work. They moved in sync, passing stones from large carts and placing them along behind the weakened stone as others melted the ice. Over her shoulder, a blue light flickered and expanded into a floating ball. It shaped itself, sprouting wings, a body, and finally a tail. The light diminished, revealing a small white dragon that looped around and landed atop the young woman’s head.
“While your persistent complaining is as tiresome as ever, I agree. Arden’s decision to mobilize a modest force of Tarragon is rather questionable. What good will it do to rebuild a deserted garrison? Amid Infernus’ ether, no less. It’s dense below. Exposed too long and those ill prepared will fall prey to his influence.”
Arden just wants to spite me. This entire campaign might be her way of getting back at me for breaking Terra’s arm during Ascent.
“Maybe you deserved it. To teach you restraint the next time you come across an opponent who is not an enemy.”
She knew the voice in her head was correct, but she didn’t want to give her the satisfaction. Whatever.
Armor clad soldiers marched in formation through the center of camp. The young woman paused near the stables, reaching towards and patting a great silvery scaled beast that stood at a height that would require another of her to match. “Tarragon strutting around while the kirin are all dirty. If they’re just gonna keep walking, then why does Bael have me looking out?” The armor-clad soldiers passed by, glancing at her before she returned an instant glare. They leaped into the air in pairs, the last a curly haired Minhki with three slashes under her eye nodding at her. Fumi? She got roped into this too. Perhaps because she almost won Ascent… Arden, that bitch. An aching in Glacia’s knuckles reminded her of a harsher time. Where she had to fight for her liberation and ultimately fail. It’s because of her the Tarragon hate the Gardenia. She somehow convinced them I’m a burden when I’ve been nothing but a prisoner my whole life. Well, I don’t give a damn what they think.
“Watch your language, Glacia!” The dragon said, with a breath of blue flame escaping its jaws. “People fear what they can’t understand. It’s as simple as that. Rumors do not define what a Gardenia stands for. The Gardenia maintains order, seeks truth, and leads the way in times of crisis. They know not what you are capable. They can talk as much as they like, as it changes nothing. Our enemy knows of our existence but turns a blind eye to the potential blow we can strike. We must ensure that it’s a fatal one.”
Glacia scratched the beast under its scales, lowering its neck in response and giving a gentle hum. A mechanical black bracelet coiled around her forearm fragmented as she continued scratching. I’ve worked too hard for too long to quit now, Seriara. Years of planning and trying to escape, but now is the closest I’ve ever been. Damn the Tarragon and damn this responsibility. If I see the opportunity, I will make that man pay! As her temper rose, the bracelet twitched to life. She grabbed onto it swiftly in response and held it to her arm. And I’ll do it with his own contraption he armed me with.
“Duty should be your motive, not vengeance. You’re next in a lineage of protectors of this world. Their knowledge and experience have passed to you. As you grow more comfortable with my ether, the past of your family will open up to you. Unlocking those memories should be your primary focus.”
That can wait. From the stables, she walked to a section of the wall that led to a steep cliff oversaw by Tarragon standing on the walls. Bael wants me to patrol the perimeter, and that’s what she’ll get. The Tarragon want to use this for quick access down the mountain. I’ll use this opportunity to get a look at the surroundings and figure out where it would be best for me to slip away. Maybe even sabotage it. Glacia peered at the narrow trail. This path looks rigid. Too many rocks for anyone to weave around. Anyone inexperienced would likely overshoot them and break their legs if they offset their weight trying to land after jumping over them. A radiance cut through the mountain fog, demanding her eye with its luminescent glow. The Crossing, its grace, extended over the nearby mountains with its colossal size. Once I’m done here. You’re next. That wish will be mine!
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“Glacia, look down!”
In the corner of her eye, movement drifted through the fog. Concealed in a feathered robe, a person inched behind a stone.
“Her again!?” Glacia gasped and jumped without hesitation.
“Gardenia! Stop!”
The rushing wind drowned out the cries behind her, falling toward the cliff. Below her feet, ice gathered into a circle, negating her impact when crashing into the snow. A shift of her heel spawned a ramp of ice that shot her over the rocks and over the figure. Landing with a roll, she rushed in the character’s direction. “Who are you and why do you keep following me?!”
“I’ve been waiting until the day came.” The woman began before pausing and turning her head downhill as if she were looking for something. “Protect him, please. You’re the only person-.” She turned back, seeing Glacia glide across the air toward her. She yanked a bracelet from her wrist, seamlessly transitioning into a rapier made of ice, and went for a strike.
The cloaked woman hardly moved, her head following Glacia as she descended from the sky. She made no remark as the feathers of the cloak detached and hovered in the air. Igniting all at once, they jetted in Glacia’s direction.
“Incoming!”
A chain of explosions set off; a thunderous boom echoed while smoke invaded the air. Glacia flipped from the smoke, her weapon and hands covered by a cracked, frozen wall. Two anima!? The first was the feathers, so wind. Second, when the feathers went ablaze and exploded. She set them off before they hit me. I’m sure if she wanted to, she could have hit me on my flank. What’s her game?
“Seriara!” the woman called, shocking both Glacia and the dragon. “You will know when you see him!”
Glacia charged through the billowing smoke, thicker ice gathering around her wrist, shaping into a lance. When Glacia reached the woman, she deflected her weapon into the air. A swing of Glacia’s iced arm deflected the kick aimed for her chest. She let out a yell as she forced the lance over her opponent, snow billowing from at the sound of collision. That came down too easy! As she thought, her enemy had vanished, leading Glacia to scan the area with her iced arm covering her front. Rumbling in the mountains interrupted her thought. A gust of wind blowing from its peak and expelling the snow with more rolling toward her. In the corner of her vision, Glacia glimpsed the woman with her arms stretched in front of her. The mountain cracked as crumbling debris rolled, followed by the tip of the mountain itself. Her hand eased as it disappeared into thin air, the rest of her body fading as she spoke.
“It’s the beginning. A living liberation.” She had disappeared before their very eyes.
“She has control over all anima? That’s impossible! Unless…”
No time! Look up!
The snow encroached upon them, swallowing her whole before she could react. Seriara! Through the snow, Glacia’s body remained steady. A light blue aura cloaking her, sprouting wings that split the surrounding tide. A bend of her knees and a jump whipped her into the air and a flap of the wings had her hovering over the rush before the mountain’s peak could crush her.
Seriara sighed through Glacia’s body. “I’m returning to camp. We should report back to Commander Bael.”
Glacia’s body floated through the sky to a location above the avalanche. It seemed the avalanche had only affected the opposite side of the peak, as the fort was unaffected. Her aura ceased as she looked at the slowing snow. “Bael’s not gonna like that.” Steps clamped behind her, driving a chill up her spine. A whip around and the first person she saw was a blue armored Tarragon with several others in gray behind.
“So much for secrecy.” The woman said, removing her helmet. “Pray that didn’t alert the enemy to our location.” She turned her head, speaking from her gut, “Gather a group and survey the base of the mountain. Any sign of over two drakes, then alert me immediately.”
“Bael, listen!” Glacia said. “There was someone here spying on us! That woman in the feather cloak I told you about!”
“Await me at my tent. There, you will convince me why I shouldn’t report this to General Arden.”
The name sparked fury in Glacia’s chest, her intent stare conveying her emotion clear as day. “Bael!” Without a response, Bael and the other Tarragon dispersed. “Damn it!” Words could not describe her exhaustion. At eighteen, she felt more of a child than she did at eleven. She eyed the cliff, every bone in her body screaming to jump and make a run for it.
“Calm down, Glacia.” Seriara appeared beside her. “Do as she says.”
***
The flap of the tents material dragged Glacia’s attention to its entrance. Bael entered, her helmet at her side, gazing back at Glacia’s cold fury.
“Find anything?” Glacia asked. “Of course you didn’t. I can tell by the urgency of your steps that we’ll soon be under attack. Should I lure them away? Die for everyone else like you all want?”
Bael sighed, then lobbed her helmet on her bed. “Some trees, some tracks from the squirrels, and the boulder that caused an avalanche.” Bael said. “Your sarcasm aside, I need you to understand something. I’m not as high on the chain as Arden. The council doesn’t have a reason to question my ability, but if word gets out that I’m letting you run amuck, there’ll be punishment for the both of us.” Tapping her fingers on the table, Bael’s eyes roamed. “I thought we came to an agreement. You serve your time here, prove your worth somehow, and I see about them getting you sent to the Elysian regimen. What you do here is crucial to getting you sent elsewhere. There is nothing you can do to skip this part. Even faking some attacker, so fewer eyes are on you here.”
Glacia crossed her legs. “Explain the missing peak on the mountain then, Bael. I won’t repeat myself, believe me or not. It won’t make a difference. But because I like you more than most Tarragon, Bael, I won’t kid you any longer. I don’t plan to sit around for another four years. When the opportunity presents itself, I will leave with or without your word.”
The statement snatched Bael’s attention. A huff bigging up her chest until it was gone in a snap with a quick exhale. Recomposed, she responded, “Is that confidence, or are you just that arrogant because you have some control over the dragon? If so certain, then how about a new agreement? Surely you would like to escape this place without Tarragon on your heels, correct?”
Bael could also be sarcastic, but Glacia knew she wouldn’t dare risk her rank with a reckless decision. I must have pissed her off. She’s usually a lot tougher to crack. Leaning her head on her knuckle, Glacia smiled curtly. “I’m waiting.”
The look in Bael’s eyes turned unsteady. As if she were questioning the choice she was about to make. She closed her eyes and spoke. “As you know, Ebonwing’s ether has spread far across the borders of this country.” Bael opened her eyes and pointed at the map on her table. “With densities fluctuating in various areas, we suspect there is more than one source of its spread. One we know for certain, the menace the order has nicknamed, The Ash of Ebon, nests in the vicinity of Morath. The port city that the dragons razed around a year ago. We don’t know what has it fixated on that location, but whenever it attacks, it drifts back and leaves a trail of Ebonwing’s dense ether. Your being part White Dragon should allow you to resist such massive ether and if you’re as every bit as capable as you believe you are, kill it or subdue it. The council will surely take you seriously if you perform the latter. Accomplishing this will provide with access to the sea for another angle to strike the dragons.” As she finished the sentence, a chill breeze blew by with Glacia walking toward the exit.
“I agree with those terms.” Bael hadn’t turned as Glacia scanned her. Regret set in, reading all over Bael’s frozen stance. “I’ll bring it back, alive.”
Bael raised her voice. “Try nothing stupid, either! The order has a blockade set in the northern half of this province. If you decide to cut and run from this, there’s nothing I can do to help when they catch you.” Unsure if Glacia had even heard what she said, she turned back toward the table. “What did I just do? Is it even within my authority to make a call like that? Did I just send her to an early grave? No. This should raise morale. Glacia has been a thorn to others in the order, and what I did was for the good of us all. With her gone, operations should flow smoothly… Yes. It should all go well.”
***
Glacia’s heartbeat raced, for her chance at freedom had finally come. She left the tent. A wry smile formed. The name of her target slipped between her lips. “The Ash of Ebon.”
“A fool until the end, you are.” Seriara said. “Normally I would oppose this, but Infernus’ ether has plagued the world enough. If we put a stop to this remnant, it could dissipate most of the thick ether that surrounds these parts. We’ll earn the favor of the White Dragon and secure their trust in us. Thus, gaining access to the training your mother once had.”
“Not my concern.” Glacia said. “My freedom is all that I want. Nothing else matters.”
“Then are you ready to fight tooth and nail for it?”
Icy smoke slipped from Glacia’s mouth as she exhaled. Her blood pumped, giving her a sensation of warmth, she’d long forgotten. “More than ready.”