Monday afternoon, and not under a lake…

Julia DeVerdra thought there were some tough moments of training when it came to her martial arts or the absolute calm it took to hit a target at eight hundred meters with the gentle reassurance of her mother at the gun range. She’s been able to tackle any challenge thrown at her to date, and usually, all it takes is a level head and careful study.

That all got thrown out the window when Nick ‘Double-O Dragon’ DeShandrea crossed paths with them on that fateful Friday afternoon and showed them how woefully out of their depth they were. After a recovery for the past few days and one intense day of training on Sunday, Nick has decided to dump a new bit of information on them. No one’s happy about leaving Drenar’s house, where they’ve been camping out whenever they can.

“No way. We're not camping out at your place,” Angela states with crossed arms, and for once, James has her back. Julia isn't keen on it either on Monday afternoon, after school. “Tell us why.”

“They know your vital statistics and your address. I doubt Crosomer's claims of testing you for funzies, because the smart thing to do would have been to just kill you three and be done with it.”

“He seemed to have an awful amount of restraint during that fight. Did anyone else pick up on that?” Julia poses. “Like he could have killed us without much effort. Well, some effort, we gave as much as we got.”

“He was teaching.” Drenar makes the revelation with a finger in the air. Angela tousles his brown hair just to annoy him and leave it even more of a mess than usual, and she grins mischievously when he frowns at the interruption. “Alex told me that Crosomer was a hardcore academic. The battle triggered some memories for him. And the one thing that rattled out first was how boring Robespierre was during his lessons, even though Alex was the senior. Well, year-wise. A-anyway, that’s not important. What’s important is he was teaching us to defend ourselves.”

“Better question, why?” Angela chimes in.

“He’s an old geezer who now gets his kicks out of beating up teenagers with attitude?” Drenar proposes. “Honestly, I’m still figuring that part out. Unless he was deadpanning us when he said we’d be the tip of the spear that gets thrust into the beating heart of the Conclave.”

“Gonna be real with you, he could do way better than investing his time in us, people who have a bone to pick with him for an experiment gone horribly right that’s changing us all into dragons.” And yet, Julia can’t dismiss the idea. Crosomer had been remarkably in control of the entire fight. The only major surprise had been–

“Drenar, what’s the deal with your dagger, by the way?” The question catches him off-guard. It's something she hasn't even really thought about until now.

“You mean why do I still have it strapped to my person? I dunno, maybe because I expect danger at our doorstep any second now? But not at school. That's like, sending a bad message–”

“No, not that. Are you aware that it’s glowing a little bit?” she asks. Nick is instantly at attention, and Drenar pulls the dagger out and runs his fingers along the flat of the blade. His motion stops when he gets to the hilt. His eyes widen.

“She’s right. It’s glowing.”

“Did it do that before?”

“Oh for–Julia, you honestly think I’ve been holding out on a magical dagger, which is utterly trivial compared to being a flipping dragon?!” His animated reaction isn’t exactly unwarranted, she notes. “It had to be something to do with that spell trap I got tangled in. Maybe there’s some residual…mana, I think? Yeah, mana is covering the blade surface.”

“No, look closer. It’s originating from these weird shapes on the hilt. They look like sigils, or some glyph language. Or runes? Are runes a thing in magic?” Nick nods in affirmation.

“They can be. Runes are sort of the way to engineer magical effects on items if they’re not baked in immediately into the construction of said item, or the process of how it’s made. May I?” Drenar doesn’t even blink before he hands the dagger to Nick. The light instantly dies out, and he frowns. “Um. Okay. That was strange.”

“It doesn’t like you,” Julia teases. Nick picks up the cue and hands it to her. The glow resumes, much to her surprise. “Well, now, aren't you a curious little thing! Angie, I need to borrow you.”

“I’m not a fan of daggers, but alright–” she barely touches the dagger and the glow gets even brighter, and she looks at it apprehensively. “Uh, hey Nick. Two questions. Why is this dagger now glowing, and why does it get brighter when I touch it?”

“I haven’t the foggiest, but you can bet I’ll find out.” He takes the dagger back and the glow dies in an instant. “Oh, fine then, mystery weapon, I guess I’m not worthy. Give me time, I’m more of the slow charmer kind of guy.”

“Uh…are you talking to the dagger?” Julia snerks at this.

“Julia, you’re going to find that a lot of weird stuff happens with mages. And your best recourse to not lose your mind is to just roll with it,” Nick suggests. He furrows his brow and examines the dagger, tip to hilt. “This construction is highly unusual, this is not mage steel, this is something else. Mythril? Nah, not light enough. Alarite? Wrong color. Grain structure is all wrong, it looks like this all grew from a single crystal of metal.”

“You seem to know a lot about metallurgy,” Drenar says after a second. Nick shakes his head, his blonde ponytail swaying gently for a second. For a man who’s seventy years old and looks less than twenty, and having spent almost five decades fighting men and monsters, he can wear whatever style he wants. Even though she feels it's a touch dated.

“Only enough to get by. I’m not an expert by any measure, but you learn stuff over the years. The aesthetics of the dagger are…Celtic? Scandinavian? And five runes. Five? Who the hell made this thing?” He tries to pull back the leather on the handle, but it seems resistant. “Sorry Drenar, I don’t want to manhandle this thing, but a smith mark would typically be underneath these windings, and they seem firmly attached.”

“Please don’t?” he says edgily. “That’s my mom’s dagger.”

“Well, why do you have it?”

“Because she gave it to me, Legolas.” James laughs out loud, and Nick shoots him a glare that could melt steel.

“That nickname sucks, and hasn’t been earned, either,” he says with annoyance. “Besides, I was more of a fan of Game of Thrones, before they jumped the shark.”

“Which season?”

“I meant the book.”

“Oh. in that case, Storm of Swords. A feast of Crows was alright. But Dance with Dragons sucked. You know there’s two more books left,” Drenar reminds him.

“Yeah, I’ll be dead of old age before that gets finished,” he rebukes. He gently hands the dagger back to Drenar. “Alright, it’s magical. I can’t tell you what it does, but it’s likely because of your Awakening.”

“Wait, did I enchant it?”

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

“It’s not unheard of, but in your case…no. They were already there.”

“So, my mom picked up a magical dagger from a bargain bin store, and it just started working? Nah, that seems like a long shot, Nick.”

“You’d be surprised how many magical weapons end up in normie hands,” he says with a sigh. Julia raises her eyebrow. “Normie? Normal, non-magical humans?”

“It sounded pretty derogatory.”

“Fine, just non-mage hands. Does it really sound that bad?” he asks with reservation.

“Guess it’s lingo you picked up?” Julia asks with a hint of anger. His expression confirms it, even in silence. “Yeah, don’t use that term. If we think it sounds bad, it probably is.”

“Right. Damn. It's been a while since I’ve interacted with people that got violently thrown to the shadier side of the Veil,” he admits. He turns back to Drenar. “Well, I’ll be honest, it’s possible this was a random find for her. It happens sometimes. There’s a heap of magical items and artifacts that find their way to non-mage hands, and nothing ever comes from it. Most of them require just a hint of mana in your body to activate or be useful, anyway.”

“That’s reassuring,” he says before securing it away. “It cuts through body armor like butter. I’ll keep an eye out if it does anything else.”

“If it starts demanding blood, Drenar, better to dump it,” Julia reminds him.

“Hey, it’s sentimental! And it’s also a really nice dagger, I got a lot of use from this while camping and during scouts.”

“It actually is really high quality. Some idiot must have thought it was a Renaissance fair impulse buy,” Nick says with distaste. “Do you…mind if I send a photo to Levine?”

“Nah, go ahead. I feel like this isn’t that big a mystery to solve, and that broadsword that we brought back is clearly a plus-one weapon.” Julia giggles at that, and Drenar scowls. “No seriously, it’s a straight-up magical upgrade. It’s lighter than standard steel for a blade that length, and it cuts a sheet of paper if I drop it on the edge.”

“You actually tested that?”

“You realize I want to be an engineer as a profession, right? Problem-solving and observations of physical tests are kind of my bread and butter.”

“Yeah, now we can add a magical engineer to the title!” He sighs and simply shakes his head.

“Okay, I see how this is going to go. What's a magical engineer without sounding dorky? A magitech engineer, a magineer? I'm kinda keen on the job title of ‘technomancer’. For an aspiring chemist…what's that in magical terms?”

“Alchemist,” everyone but Nick says simultaneously. He looks warily at them.

“Spooky. Are you guys some kind of hive mind?”

“You realize we've known each other since forever, right?” Angela says crossly. “So what's your job title? Officially?”

“Captain Nicholas DeShandrea, SAF special investigations. The military rank doesn't mean too much. I get called ‘the verdant fluffy hunter’ to the amusement of some of my coworkers' kids.” This elicits a few laughs. “But that doesn't detract from the fact that I've done plenty of tracking and investigative work over the years.”

“Amaranth kinda missed the mark a bit, I didn't realize Hinterlands have so much feather coverage. You're more bird than dragon,” James comments while holding the magical creature bestiary that had started this whole adventure. Nick looks at it and walks over.

“Hey. I know this copy. One of the first editions! Four volumes later, he's still begging me for permission to put me on the contributing author list. It's tough, I tell you, that this is like my second job that I enjoy more, and do mostly as a pro-bono effort.”

“Doesn't being a dragon make it a little too easy?” Angela asks with a raised eyebrow. “No wonder why you talk about the outdoors all the time. I wonder how many of those stories pale in comparison to the truth?” It's almost adorable how Nick reacts in a subtle way of arching backward.

“Uh, well…you know the secrecy of mages is a whole thing, right? I can't exactly talk about any of my hunts or magical creature management sorties. And there's a lot of them. And some of them did cross over the line of military importance. Damn bloodcaps,” he mutters.

“What's the story behind that one?” Julia prods further.

“Little bastards with sharp, fetid spears who bleed out way too slowly and will eat humans and other Kin. They're not sapient, but they're intelligent. And just nasty.” He rubs at his shoulder uneasily. Maybe the reminder isn't just a mental one. “Look, let's not talk about me all day. As much fun as it would be to amuse you teenagers by regaling you with old tales and of harrowing hunts, we have priorities. All of you recite to me the principles of Veil protocol as I asked.”

“See no magic, hear no magic, speak no magic,” Angela sighs. Nick looks at her with an amused smile.

“Close. But less memes, please.”

“Alright, fine. Conduct all magical business in veil-free zones or in the absence of non-mages. We don't talk about mages, Kin, or magic harder than we don't talk about Bruno to anyone not already a Kin or a mage.” Drenar’s brother Evan fights back a laugh at this.

His brother. That’s a phrase that’s still taking some getting used to. Up until last week, Julia had known him as an adopted brother of Drenar. It must have been pretty awkward for Drenar’s father to walk back into the scene and see his ex-wife now with a son that wasn’t his on the way. Evan said he didn’t want to know who his dad was, because it’s something he doesn’t want closure on. She still doesn’t understand why. Nick’s ongoing quiz breaks her train of thought, and she focuses on it again.

“Better. Recite to me contingency protocols in case of accidents.” He points to Drenar.

“First priority, the safety of civilians and non-mages, immediate life-saving responses as deemed necessary. The second priority is to call SAF on a secure line, and inform them of location, witnesses, and if there are suspected audio and video recordings. Containment falls on us to the best of our abilities or any other responders.” Drenar’s been studying, she notes, even though he should have been resting. Drenar might be a bit of an improv planner in a crisis, but he can hit the books when he needs to. “What about imminent hostilities, say a Talons kill squad starts shooting?”

“You have permission to defend both yourself and others from aggressors of that nature, but refrain from doing so unless it's critical to defending others,” Nick replies.

“Dragon forms okay?” Julia interprets that as ‘Is it okay to curb stomp those hateful fiends into oblivion for daring to hurt innocent people.’ Except she would just outright state that.

“Proportionate to the threat, yes. But try to avoid collateral damage, dragons have powerful abilities that can kill or injure non-mages. We’ll be going over that too.” Nick points to James. “What is containment policy priority?”

“Wipes of cell phone data using magical fields, and digital recordings. Mages have contacts at all major media outlets to drop stories or convince people they're fakes. Memory alteration is allowable for non-mages where such efforts are considered non-traumatic and are to be done by professionals only. Seriously, anyone with a trickle of mana can't be mind-wiped?”

“Correct. The enchantment effect is highly sensitive, and prone to failure, and highly controlled in its application. It's easier to build trust by bringing a few non-mages into the fold.” Nick points to Julia. “Protocol for post-event debrief?”

“We sit in a glass box with SAF and go over the events, and fill out paperwork. I presume that breaches of the Veil protocol are rare?” This part is boring, she'd rather be firing that new autobow.

Or that .50 BMG beast of a rifle. Her shoulder still hurts from the incredible recoil force and she's annoyed at the heavy bruising, but what a treat it had been to put Crosomer in his place. She'd been somewhat annoyed her aim hadn't been better, but the conditions of being injured and exhausted hadn't helped, either.

If she hadn't been fighting crippling pain, that last round would have got him right in his smug grin. It’s frustrating when even a .50 caliber weapon has trouble stripping arcane barriers. She ponders if a dragon could carry an even bigger weapon. I wonder what it would take to make a dragon-portable 20-millimeter autocannon? Nah, that’s overkill. Maybe a 14.5mm round? Hmm…I’m getting worked up over this. I’ll have to pester Nick later!

“Breaches are rare. But the consequences of the whole world waking up to find magic and mana are real things, and, you know, dragons, would be…bad. Bad on a lot of levels.”

“You don't want it industrialized, do you?” James asks quietly. “Mana and magic could do a lot of good if we could solve energy shortfalls, and it sounds like mana is the next great renewable resource.”

“Or a dragon-backed army. I know we’re not at our original numbers, but dragons are a force factor multiplier just like a regular mage. Mages already have their own internal issues as it were.”

“But you know the secret can't last forever,” Julia says boldly. “Someday, someone is gonna screw up badly, and it won't stay hidden.”

“Until that happens, we keep the peace,” Nick says stoically. “Plus, I don't want the magical biozones becoming tourist traps or dump heaps. That's my personal stake.”

“Eh. I can respect that reason,” Angela agrees with a shrug.

“Glad you agree. Now, field training time.”