"Hey. Hey!"

Ginger was startled into unfreezing by the annoyed voice of the oddly dressed man before him. He gulped and tightened his grip on his sling bag and scarf.

To think he had brushed this man off, dismissing him because of his attire when he was the exact person he was looking for.

What was it that Ancor had said yesterday again?

'Yes, school. I'm sending you there so you can learn about yourself. Yes, yes I know it's sudden, but you'll be fine. In fact, I have a friend there. An exceptional dragon who is regarded very highly by the school. Dresses really well too. Fashion sense is on point. Name's Ira Otus. Keep the name in mind.'

Ginger's face turned dark. He subconsciously scanned the 'on point' fashion sense staring him in the face, and he wanted to chew his own tongue.

'Why did I take that idiot's words seriously? It's Ancor!' he thought.

A rough hand gripped Ginger's shoulder firmly.

"This is not the time to be spacing out, imp! What was it that you had to say to me? You're already off to a bad start if you're coming to learn here," the man, Ira Otus, said gruffly.

Ginger quickly summoned his focus back after a quick draw of some Mana Essence-rich air.

"Sorry, sorry," he quickly apologized. The look on Ira's face spelled several flavors of displeasure, and Ginger was attempting to salvage what little consideration the irritable-looking dragon had left.

He scrambled within his sling bag. The enchanted item reacted to its user's intent. As long as they knew what they were looking for, they would be able to quickly find it in its expanded space.

Ginger pulled out a piece of folded paper and respectfully handed it to Ira.

For a few moments, Ginger was stuck with his arm extending to Ira, however.

The man refused to take the folded paper from him, for some reason.

The march of the last of the students through the entrance, along with the departure of beast-drawn locomotives in the background, quickly faded to push in an awkward silence.

Ira only continued to stare while Ginger felt once again, a crazy urge to scratch his thigh which he quickly killed.

'Say something!' Ginger pleaded.

Fortunately, his prayer was answered.

Ira took the piece of paper, but the look on his face was far from comforting.

"I don't take kindly to written words. Whoever sent you with this either means well or is making a fine effort to provoke me," the man said with a frown so deep, it made him look old.

Ginger felt light-headed as Ira spoke, and he bit his upper lip.

What was this strange sensation?

The still second heart in him almost shook to life.

Ira unfolded the piece of paper and began reading.

'Heavens, Ancor! Are you trying to get me killed?' Ginger thought while turning pale. Standing in front of Ira somehow made him feel numb, and the odd dragon taking his time to read only made things worse.

As Ginger had begun to think that perhaps he should run away and give up before more of Ancor's antics irritated Ira even more...

"Hahahahahahahaha!"

An odd, boisterous laughter exploded.

Ginger shook, alarmed.

All of a sudden, the tension and the light-headedness he felt disappeared.

Ira slung his arm around his neck and shook him violently.

"Why didn't you lead with this, little imp? You know that fool Ancor? The human Shaman? How long has it been? 70 years?" Ira roared ecstatically.

Ginger saw the world blur. Ira's strength was extraordinary. It felt like he could squash him into a dragon ball, and chuck him to the other side of the lake.

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He probably could.

The young, plump boy struggled to maintain his balance after the shake.

Ira then pulled on him.

"Come. We shouldn't discuss sensitive matters like this here."

He and Ginger walked a distance from the entrance while he loudly spouted pieces of tales that Ginger could barely comprehend. Did he think Ginger would suddenly have memory of them and chime in?

In the back of his mind, Ginger was relieved though. It seemed Ancor was really friends with this dragon. Things were finally looking up.

Perhaps he had doubted Ancor too early.

When they were a fair stretch away, and curiously directly under the statue of the azure dragon with the heavy jaw, Ira faced Ginger.

"It's most peculiar. Your name is Ginger, is it? I have never known any dragons to be born in the Wild. Not even the worst criminals among our kind are banished there," Ira said while his striking blue eyes bore into Ginger's own grey pair.

The young, plump boy tried to avoid his gaze. It was clear that Ira wanted him to satiate his curiosity on how and why he originated from the Wild.

Ginger's inability to answer was apparent to Ira, however.

"No matter. You don't need to answer that," he said, and he adopted a rather serious expression. "Though, being conceived in the Wild for a dragon, while unheard of, will surely not be received well. It is impossible to hide the fact. I'm already starting to see how... different you are. Lacking even. Human blood dilutes your potential."

Ginger withered.

"What?"

"You are a halfling, aren't you? One of the worst kinds – potential-wise. Either your mother or father was human."

The moment the subject of his family was brought up, Ginger clenched his fists and avoided Ira's gaze once again.

"Relax. I'm not that interested in what you are. I'm a mere gatekeeper of the school after all. I don't typically participate in such subjects," Ira said with a shrug. "And well... I hate to tell you this, but whatever favor Ancor thinks I owe him, it is not nearly big enough to force me into somehow making a place for you in the school."

Ginger's eyes shot straight into Ira's, shock livid within them.

"What? No. But he said..."

"He said? Hahaha! That's Ancor for you. Go back and tell him it can't be done," Ira cut off Ginger rather abruptly, and with a strange sigh.

The eccentrically dressed dragon even turned from the dragonling dramatically.

Ginger reeled back. The way this man rejected... It would have left him devastated... if it were genuine.

But...

'Right...' Ginger thought. His heart calmed down a bit. Ancor had said something else about Ira other than his style of clothing.

Rummaging through the sling bag again, Ginger pulled out a small pouch and extended it to Ira who peeked behind his shoulder.

It was like Shamanry the way Ira's eyes suddenly sparkled, and how his lips curled into a lustful smile that almost turned his face into a crescent. He grabbed the little pouch and opened it.

His smile grew wider, turning inhuman. Then again, Ira wasn't human.

"Good ol' Ancor. So he really did still have that stash he won back then. I bet it was useless in the Wild," Ira chuckled.

Ginger couldn't see what was in the sack. He had been instructed by Ancor not to open this pouch, and another one out of the three he had, which was marked the same as this one. As for Ira, Ancor had told Ginger:

'Ira is a good man. Dragon. Once he reads my letter, he'll probably understand. I think. In case he doesn't though, give him this. It's sure to change his mind. Probably.'

As Ancor had expressed doubt in his own strategy, Ginger had also. But it seemed to have worked.

Ira spared no other words to Ginger. He looked up to the violet-blue sky and whistled loudly.

Almost instantly, there was a harsh fluttering noise from behind the wall, and a small creature came flying down from its height to land on Ira's shoulder.

Ginger was startled by its speed of flight, and more than that, its appearance.

It was a small dragon – as far as Ginger could tell – as large and as long as a man's arm with beige scales and two long, webbed wings.

Its large nostrils puffed out smoke, and its bulbous green eyes blinked rapidly.

Seeing the way Ginger gawked at the creature, Ira laughed.

"Ah, of course. You wouldn't be familiar with things like this, would you?" he said, but didn't elaborate. Instead, he extended a finger to the creature on his shoulder, and Ginger watched in wonder as a small, yellow flame appeared at the tip of it.

The winged creature chomped on the flame and swallowed.

Ira then whispered to the creature:

"Send it to Noam."

And the little thing shot up, disappearing behind the wall.

Ira smiled and gestured for Ginger to follow him back to the entrance.

'What... what was that all about?' the plump dragonling thought.

He had seen some pretty bizarre stuff with Ancor, but this was bizarre of a different nature.

Did dragons domesticate... other dragons?

Ginger didn't know. He hoped to find out.

Sadly, how Ira switched to deafening silence on the way back to the gate didn't help him with curbing his anxiety.

Ginger felt even more unsettled when, just as they arrived at the entrance, a man dressed extravagantly walked out, and looked right at Ira... and then him.

Behind the man, trailed the figure of the creature Ginger considered a miniature dragon.

Oddly, Ginger felt himself turned numb as the man drew nearer to him and Ira.

'Again?'

That feeling...

The approaching man had smooth, honey-colored skin that looked too youthful for him. He was rather tall and had a rigid posture which was emphasized by his broad shoulders.

He had ash blonde dreadlocks that ended in a ponytail and an immaculate fade at the sides of his head.

Ginger thought he looked rather cool.

However, nothing on the man's face betrayed emotion. Nothing about his downturned emerald green eyes expressed malice or kindness, and his nose, while cute as a button, seemed to carry an accusing nature in its blunt point.

The look this man gave Ginger made him feel like he and this man would never get along. Ever.

"You've gotten quite bold, Ira," the man said in a surprisingly deep voice while turning from Ginger. "A halfling from the Wild."

"Yes. What of it, Noam? I have a good source that says he can fight his own battles. Well, as long as he manages to get enrolled and get through his First Burning. So do it," Ira declared with a menacing smile. His little 'dragon' raced from the stern man's side, and jumped onto his shoulder.

Noam scoffed.

"Very well. I'll play," he said, and his green eyes turned back to Ginger.

"Come along, then. Let's get you to the Burning with your fellow First Years."