Skwyr Court

Lady Emgard walked into the marketplace, leaning on her staff for support. She kicked up dust as she walked, a refreshing reminder that warm weather had returned. The sun shone happily in the bright blue sky above. The perfect weather for an outdoor market.

With her basket slung over her elbow, she walked among the villagers, keeping her head down, with a little help from an enchantment to hide her identity. She hated it when people recognized her. Then it was always “Can I help you, My Lady?” or “No, please, I can’t take money from you, My Lady.” It didn’t help her mission to help the locals if they kept offering her charity. She neither needed nor wanted it. Just as bad were the people on the opposite end of the spectrum, the ones who overcharged her because they knew she could afford it. Sure, they weren’t giving away their products, but she didn’t want to support them.

She eyed a fresh crop of carrots and thought about bringing some back with her for a stew. Living in the castle rarely gave her a chance to cook for herself, and it’d be a nice change of pace. Cooking had always felt like another form of magic to her. Like magic, cooking took care, attention to detail, and a lot of patience.

“How much?” she asked, motioning to the carrots. She was careful not to draw too much attention to herself, so as not to break her disguise.

The merchant glanced at her, then turned his attention to the carrots.

“Ten copper a piece,” he said.

The price had gone up in a week, but she couldn’t blame him for that. Instead, she took out her small purse, selected a gold piece, and handed it to him.

“I’ll take ten,” she said.

The merchant made no effort to hide his delight.

“Thanks, granny,” he said, accepting the piece of gold.

She arched an eyebrow at him, then turned back to the carrots. Like the crowd around her, the carrots were smaller than usual, which was another concern of hers. She picked ten of them, then moved on through the marketplace.

She glanced up at the sky again, feeling something wrong in the air. Some small feeling that made the hairs on the back of her neck stir. She gripped her staff a little tighter. The sky was almost cheerful.

But around this part of Skwyr, there was an underlying fear creeping around the people. She could feel it lingering among them. Like a shadow falling over them. The crops weren’t doing well; people didn’t even want to go out to a market anymore. They could all sense it, even if they didn’t know it.

She closed her eyes and concentrated. The sounds of the marketplace faded away. She felt herself leaving the ground, giving her a brief moment of vertigo. As old as she was, she’d learned to ignore it, knowing full well she was still on solid earth. The world moved about her, moving energy with it. She sensed the fine threads of magic that bound the world together, looking for anything out of place.

She felt each thread of the marketplace, of the sky. A watcher only, she didn’t dare touch any of them. It was easier to feel the one vibrating out of place.

It was a rhythmic vibration. A bobbing motion, perhaps. Like…

Lady Emgard’s eyes snapped open.

“Wingbeats.”

Her gaze turned to the horizon, and she saw it. Far enough away that no one would’ve seen it yet. From that distance, it could’ve been mistaken for a bird. But even as she looked at it, a sense of dread filled her. That wasn’t a bird.

She closed her eyes again, but instead of sensing the movement of the strands, she followed one straight back to the castle. Leaning her head into her hand, she breathed one word.

“Dragon.”

With open eyes, she lifted her hand up and allowed her message to fly free. A few feathers left her hand, vanishing seconds after they did. She knew her message would make it to the king. It had to.

“That was a neat trick,” one merchant said.

She looked back at him, dispelling her disguise. She waited a moment before realization dawned on his face.

“My… My Lady Arch Mage!” he exclaimed, stammering and bowing at the same time. “I… Please forgive me, I didn’t—”

“You’re forgiven,” she said. “I don’t care what you did, only what you’re about to do. Everyone here may be in grave danger. I need help getting their attention.”

“Not a problem.” The man turned back to his family. “Get everyone’s attention. I don’t know why, but it’s important!”

Two young men and a little girl ran out and started shouting to people.

It wasn’t efficient by any means; most people looked at them as though they were crazy. She didn’t need people to obey, only to listen. She didn’t like raising her voice.

“There’s a dragon on its way,” she said, raising her voice only a little to be heard. She looked up at it again. Sure enough, it was getting closer. She could see its mighty wings carrying across the sky toward the marketplace.

People saw her, then turned their heads toward the dragon. As they did, people whispered and pointed at it.

“Everyone, get off the street. Find shelter in the tents or stands if you must, but stay out of the street.”

“What for?” asked a man.

“Because there’s a good chance that if a dragon sees this many people, it’ll raze the village for fun.”

As people began to panic, more shouted at them to keep calm. Emgard took note of each one. It was always good to know on whom she could rely. She placed her basket on the stand closest to her, then walked to the center of the street, her staff in hand.

The dragon was close enough that she could see its black scales. She took a breath to keep herself calm. With luck, it would pass over them without paying them any mind. With a lot of luck. More luck than she figured she possessed.

It spread its wings and glided lower, intending to land. People around her talked with shaking voices, but others hushed them.

The ground shook as the dragon landed. She’d seen supply caravans smaller than it. It loomed over her, its great maw opening to speak.

“What a surprise,” it said in a tongue few others would understand. “If it isn’t Lady Emgard.”

His voice was deep and smooth. He — she was sure it was male — wasn’t at all afraid of her. She didn’t blame him; she didn’t look that intimidating to anyone other than her apprentices or the castle staff.

“I confess you have me at a disadvantage,” she replied. “You know my name, but I can’t say I know yours.”

He reared back. His head bobbed up and down while he made a coughing noise. No, he wasn’t coughing; he was laughing.

“You sensed me coming. I know you can find my name if you look hard enough.”

That same sense of dread that she’d felt earlier came over her for a moment. Was he doing that? She knew dragons were better with magic than humans, but to do so seamlessly wasn’t something she’d expected.

She didn’t dare close her eyes and leave people defenseless. Instead, she reached out with her mind into the ether once again. A new thread had been created, linking her with this dragon. From that, she sensed his name.

She held her staff tighter. She’d killed dragons before, but until the king arrived with his knights, there was little she could do against this particular dragon.

She knew that now. She’d fought dragons before, but this wasn’t an ordinary dragon.

“I’m flattered that you recognize me,” he said, leaning his head closer. “I thought humans were too ignorant of us dragons to believe I exist.”

While she listened, she drew up battle plans in her head. Killing him wasn’t her concern anymore; saving as many of the people was.

“The king is on his way,” she said, hoping to stall for time. “You might be able to kill me, but you won’t kill him.”

“I have no desire to kill you. That’d only pick a fight with the king, one I cannot win. Not yet.”

Its mouth drew back in what she could only assume was a smile. Whatever it was, it was revolting.

“But do send him my love,” the dragon continued. “Be sure to tell him… and all these people my name. Tell them that the nightmare is real. I’ve come out of the shadows to burn their lives to the ground.”

“The Court of Nelaro wasn’t enough?” she asked.

“Nelaro was only the beginning. I’ve got my eye on Skwyr now. Tell the king that for me, would you?”

Emgard sensed a warm, empowering feeling. She stood on the shoulders of giants, and they weren’t far.

“You’d better run before he arrives. Unless you’d like to tell him yourself.”

He leaned in closer to her.

“Quite like an old woman. Waiting for a younger man to save her.”

She gripped her staff until her knuckles turned white. One way or another, she’d see this lizard’s head roll.

“Now, now. We both know you won’t fight me with these people here.”

“You’d better fly away while you can.”

The dragon stretched his wings.

“Until next time, Lady Emgard.”

He leapt off the ground and soared into the air. Emgard didn’t relax until she’d watched him fly away into that bright blue sky.

“It’s safe,” she said softly. “The king will be here soon.”

People slowly came out of hiding around her in the marketplace.

“Thank you, My Lady,” the merchant near her said. “We’re in your debt.”

She looked at them with a little envy, but smiled all the same. It wouldn’t do to alarm them yet.

As people emerged, she picked up her basket and checked on them. Made sure they were okay. They asked about the dragon, but she didn’t answer their questions. Only told them that the Court would see to it.

They didn’t need to know what she did, what the king would soon know. They didn’t need to know that the boogeyman escaped their nightmares. That evil had crept out of the darkness.

That Valignatiejir had returned to Skwyr.

The first sign that there was trouble was Lord Velal telling Ekla that she needed full battle gear. After taking the time to ensure every piece of her armor was right, she’d met Lord Velal with six other knights, at the edge of the wall that guarded the castle.

The second sign that there was trouble was her being made field medic. Not that she minded; she was good at it, but routine surveillance operations didn’t need a field medic, nor full battle gear. Lord Velal was quiet about both their objective and destination. When they set off, she didn’t know where they were going, but like every other knight in the court, she knew to follow Lord Velal without question.

The sun rose slowly as they rode southwest of the court, out into the wilderness beyond the walls. There were few settlements out here, where wild beasts could be prowling around any corner.

Ekla kept her guard up, still wondering what it was they were doing. Why all the secrecy? She knew the King’s inner circle had their secrets, and she knew something was going on. There were rumors of a black dragon lurking in Skwyr. She had a sinking feeling that this mystery mission involved that dragon somehow.

The sun was just peeking through the mountains behind them when she spotted smoke ahead of them. She focused her ki into her eyes, and saw something in the distance beyond the smoke.

A shape moved through the sky, away from them and the court. She could faintly make out the outline of wings. With one hand, she pulled her spyglass from a pouch on her side. There was no doubt about it: dragon. It was larger than any other she’d seen on her surveillance missions. One of its claws was curled around something as it flew off. She saw it for only a moment, then it was gone, concealed by the smoke ahead of them.

Her eyes darted to Lord Velal. Had he seen it? It was flying away, and their mission was likely to find survivors up ahead, so there was little she could do yet. She checked her helmet and activated the filter in it as they approached the smoke, then put her spyglass back into place.

Charred remains of tents littered the area. The fires had all burned themselves out, but the ruins stretched for at least a mile over scorched ground. There was no doubt about it; the dragon had been here.

Ekla dismounted along with the other knights. None of them needed the order; they started walking through the ruins, looking for any survivors sheltering among the dead.

She tested each step before putting her weight behind it, scouring ahead of and below her. She channeled her ki to her eyes and ears, checking her helmet every few steps to keep the smoke out. Several questions still fought for her attention, but she couldn’t be distracted. There’d be time to work out the problem later.

That’s not my concern either.

She turned over tents, but found charred remains of people. She tried to determine from which kingdom the tribe had originated, but there wasn’t enough left.

“Lord Velal,” one of the other knights said, “what did this?”

That’s not our concern right now, Ekla thought. Our only concern is to find survivors.

“The only thought you should be giving to that,” Lord Velal said as he too scavenged the remains, “is whether it’s going to come back.”

Ekla was the youngest master in the castle, but she knew better than to question Lord Velal. He wouldn’t keep secrets from them unless it was necessary.

You are capable of handling the worst. I will never shield you from the truth without good reason.

Respect and loyalty were two of the values on which she’d been raised. Lord Velal said it was one thing that had made her stand out when he’d selected her for master.

A sound caught her attention and she froze. Tuning out the sounds of the other knights, Ekla focused on that sound. A soft groaning, wheezing. The sounds of life.

She stepped through the ruins, keeping her focus on that sound. She could’ve missed orders, but she was following the more important ones. Besides, Lord Velal wouldn’t order them to quit until every inch of ground had been searched.

The sound came again, followed by a soft cough.

Ekla glanced back at Lord Velal, and saw that he’d heard it too. She caught his gaze, then turned her head towards the source of the sound. Through the smoke, she saw him nod.

“Hello?” she called.

Another cough through the smoke.

“Help.”

The voice was soft, wheezing, gasping in the smoke.

“I’m from the castle,” she said. “My name’s Ekla.”

“Help.”

“I’m going to get you out.”

She stepped closer, careful to avoid stepping on anything. She didn’t know what was alive or dead anymore, and she wouldn’t risk harming anyone.

“Help.”

“Keep talking. I’m coming to you.”

The voice got louder and louder as she approached. It was still faint, but strong enough that she could find it. She dragged a piece of ruined tent away, and found the owner of the voice.

It was a man. He was covered in soot and ash, but she didn’t see any burns on him. His back was to her, his arms wrapped around something. He wheezed and coughed in the smoke, but didn’t move, even after she’d freed him.

No, I didn’t free him. He could’ve gotten out.

“I’m…”

Her voice trailed off when she saw what he was holding. It was a little boy, no older than seven. Unlike the man Ekla assumed was his father, the boy’s skin was blackened, charred.

“I’ve got survivors!” she called.

The first step was to get them out of the smoke so she could work. She wasn’t far from the edge of the ruin. The ground had been razed, but it’d stopped smoking enough that she could setup a safe zone.

“I’ll be back in a moment.”

She raced along the outside of the ruin, whistling for her horse to meet her. She grabbed her medical pack from the horse’s side, then sprinted back to the man and his son. She pulled out a pair of tied sticks from the pack. Pulling them apart, she activated the magic woven into the cloth.

The cloth hung in midair while she pulled a card out of a pouch strapped to her leg. She pressed her thumb and forefinger against the card, and the tiny runes that decorated the card glowed. She tore the card into pieces, throwing the pieces around her charges.

When the last piece landed, the two of them floated into the air, the man’s arms still firmly around his son. She gently lifted them up, the spell keeping them still, and moved them onto the stretcher.

Once they were out of the smoke, she took four rods from her pack. She stuck them into the ground, and a tent sprang out from them. She ducked inside, then had the stretcher set her patients down onto the ground.

“Can you hear me?” she asked the man.

His eyes fluttered open as she pulled out another pair of cards. She activated the first one, and the card turned translucent. Looking through it at the man, she saw everything about him. His heart was beating out of control, one lung had collapsed, and he was bleeding internally. She let go of the card, and it stayed suspended in midair. Activating the second one, she turned back to the boy.

Unlike his father, the boy’s damage was mostly external, but she saw signs of infection spreading throughout his body. His eyes and ears were gone, but only the eyes were permanent if she could save him. Neither patient was in good condition, but she chose the boy first.

She pulled two more supplies from her pack: a jar and a roll of bandages. Putting the jar on the ground, she grabbed a card from her pouch — with it broken into sections, she always knew which card she was pulling — then activated it and dipped it into the jar.

“You’ve got to let go of him,” she said softly. “I promise, I’m going to do everything I can for him.”

She gently pulled the man’s arms away, then pressed the card to the boy. The card, now covered in the ointment, spread it over the boy’s body. Once the card ran out, it flew down to the jar and returned to the boy.

“Report.”

“Two survivors, I think father and son,” she replied to Velal’s shadow in the tent entrance. “Boy’s covered in burns, but I should be able to stabilize him. Man’s got internal bleeding.”

“Help…”

Ekla turned back to the man, then grabbed the card floating in midair.

“You are in the hands of the court, now,” Velal said, his deep voice emanating calm. “You and your son both have long lives left to live.”

Her first step was to reinflate the lung so he could breath again. She stabbed a small tube into his chest cavity. Pulling it out, she slapped a small bandage on the wound, then moved down to his ribs.

“I don’t have everything I need here,” she said. “Not for him.”

“I’ve already sent for Lord Gorkle and his druids.”

Ekla thanked him silently for being prepared. As proud as she was to be trusted by Lord Velal, she wasn’t proud enough that she’d refuse help.

She wrapped bandages around the boy as the card worked over him with the ointment. She’d never been good with magic and its need for precision, but when the mages made her a tool she could use, she was all for it.

“Help…”

“I’m doing the best I can,” she said. “I promise, I’m going to do everything I can to keep you and your son alive.” She took another card out of her pouch. “First, I need to put you to sleep.”

The man looked into her eyes, pleading her to help.

“Help… her.”

She shot a glance at Velal, but his silence told her that they hadn’t found anyone else.

“Who? Who’s still missing?”

Some instinct in her told her she already knew the answer. She flashed back to the dragon, flying away from the carnage it’d created.

“Daughter… It… took…”

The man couldn’t form another word, nor was it safe to let him keep talking. Ekla took the card and laid it over the man’s eyes. She watched as he drifted off to sleep.

Her own breathing had gone shallow. That dragon hadn’t taken something from the tribe; it’d taken someone.

“We will get her back,” she said. “I promise.”

Lord Velal ran through the mountains, the young girl in his arms. The moon shone overhead, providing him little light to use. Instead, he sensed his way through the rocky ground, listening for the sounds of anyone coming after him.

Lord Velal, as the one most able to deal with complications, it will be your responsibility to see that the girl is returned safely.

He slid down the mountainside, keeping one arm around the girl while he used the other one to steady himself. It wouldn’t be far to get to the court. If he could make it, they’d both be safe. At least, if he could make it back to the rest of the waiting officers.

By now, Lady Emgard would know he had the girl. With his four most trusted knights keeping the dragon’s attention, he had a good chance to escape. But he wasn’t out of the woods yet.

He heard the dragon roar. The sound echoed throughout the mountains, thrown from one to another and back again. This was the complication he was meant to handle. He hoped his knights were all safe. They’d all figured the dragon would place more importance on retrieving the girl than on killing them, but there was always a chance they were wrong.

He ducked behind a boulder and scanned the sky. He doubted he’d be able to spot it, but any disturbance in the stars would give away its position.

As he was about to move on, he spotted a fire soaring through the sky. What must’ve been an arrow moments ago struck something large and invisible. The fire spread, fueled by magic, to cover the shape in the sky. He spotted the outline of the dragon as it attempted to shake off the spell. Even as the fires died, sparks remained behind, revealing the dragon.

Clever.

He continued through the mountains, knowing that the dragon would be able to sense him without seeing him. Now it was a matter of staying ahead of it until help arrived. He couldn’t hope to win a fight with the dragon while keeping the girl safe.

He looked down at her through the dark. She was still fast asleep, enchanted to remain so until they returned to the court. With what little light he had, he could see her white skin. If he hadn’t known better, he’d have thought she was a refugee from Nelaro. Her white skin would stand out enough in the court, but the streaks of red in her hair — the mark of one touched by a dragon — would ensure people looked at her differently for the rest of her life.

His mind went back to a little boy with scars over his face and bandages over his eyes, lying in a bed in the court hospital.

You can bring her back, right?

There was such hope in the little boy’s voice that Velal couldn’t have said no if he’d wanted to.

I swear on the name of His Majesty King Fohra that I will bring her back.

There was no stopping him. He would keep his promise, even if the dragon found them. There was every possibility that they’d be found; it was becoming more likely with every moment that he stayed in the mountains.

Up ahead, another complication found him.

A light shone in the dark. It was like looking at a pearl, full of pinks and blues, but overwhelmingly bright. Velal shielded his eyes from it, taking a step back.

Once it’d gotten his attention, the unicorn lowered her aura.

Velal took another step back and tightened his grip on the girl.

“I mean you no harm,” he said, keeping his voice respectful and calm. “I seek passage back to Skwyr Court.”

“I know, Velal.” Her voice was soft, gentle. “You may pass through these mountains unharmed. But the girl may not. Give her to me so I may kill her.”

“I am under oath to protect this girl.”

“She is dragon-touched,” it said as if that explained everything.

“I can see that. The dragon that did this—”

“Is on his way. A unicorn can always sense a dragon in her territory.” The unicorn tossed her head to the girl. “That thing you hold is an abomination. It must be removed from this world.”

“I have a better idea,” a new voice said. It was low and smooth, calm and confident. The voice of one who was used to getting his way, who had nothing to fear.

The dragon landed on his other side with a crash, his invisibility spell gone. The ground shook, nearly throwing Velal off balance. The unicorn held her ground, raising her head in disdain.

“Valignatiejir.”

“Shisona,” the dragon said. “So good to see you.”

Velal looked from one to the other. He had his back to the mountain, keeping them both in view at all times. He could hold the girl with one hand and fight back with the other if necessary. And his knights wouldn’t be far behind Valignatiejir, nor would Lady Emgard and her mages be far away.

“That girl is mine,” the dragon said. “I already disposed of your knights. I can kill you too.”

Velal’s eyes flicked back towards the mountain caves. He knew that wasn’t true; he’d seen the arrow go up to illuminate Valignatiejir, meaning that at least one knight still stood. Even knowing that, he felt the fear of Valignatiejir’s words creep into his head.

His grip on the girl tightened once again. His chances of survival were slim, but her life was more important than his.

“You have made an abomination of this girl,” Shisona said.

“On the contrary, I made her better. Humans are so flawed and weak. You would be thanking me if you didn’t hate them.”

“I have no problems with humans, only with hybrids born of dragon magic.”

“Can the process be reversed?” Velal asked. He was sure the answer was “no”, but no dragon had ever offered them information on it. There were two types of dragons as far as the court knew: those that used the touch, and those who saw it as a perversion of life.

“Of course, not,” Valignatiejir said. “Why would I ever do that?”

“Irrelevant,” Shisona said. “The girl is damaged and cannot be repaired. Leave her, and you may escape.”

A rumble of thunder rolled across the sky. Clouds moved to block the moon and stars, leaving Shisona’s aura the only light Velal had. He lifted a hand and touched his helmet. The world lit up in his eyes, full of blacks, whites, and grays. Even if he could see, the oncoming storm was the work of Shisona, preparing to force him to hand over the girl and fight off Valignatiejir.

At least now I’ve got a fighting chance.

“Preparing for a fight, I see,” Valignatiejir said. “It’s no matter. I’ll kill both of you and take the girl back with me.”

Keeping a firm hold on the girl, Velal moved his free arm to his sword. With all three sides ready for a fight, his best chance was to escape while the dragon and unicorn were distracted by each other.

Valignatiejir stomped one massive claw on the ground, and stalagmites erupted all around them. Velal didn’t need to look back to know that his escape had just been cut off.

He kept his breathing calm, flicking his eyes from the dragon to the unicorn. No one would make a move until the others did. Thunder rumbled overhead, the storm holding until Shisona commanded it to strike.

Valignatiejir sucked in air, then growled the arcane word for “fire”, sending a wave of flame sweeping toward Velal and Shisona. Velal drew his sword, but turned his back on the fire. It washed over him as lightning tore through the sky and struck Valignatiejir.

The fire parted around Shisona, who reared up and brought another bolt of lightning down on Valignatiejir. The dragon shook it off as easily as he did the last one, laughing as it left him unharmed.

“Lightning? You’re so predictable, Shisona.”

Velal scanned the stalagmites, searching for a way out. There was a chance he could scale them, but they were at least twice as tall as he was. It’d take time to get over them, time during which he’d be unprotected. Which meant he had to get through them.

Another bolt of lightning flashed through the sky, but Valignatiejir wasn’t its target. Velal had a second to react, thrusting his sword up to catch the bolt. The magic in the sword absorbed the lightning, but the force knocked him off his feet. He grit his teeth as his back slammed into the rocks behind him. Before either could attack, he was back on his feet, looking for an opening or weak spot on Valignatiejir.

Shisona charged Valignatiejir, giving Velal a distraction he needed. He spun around and focused his ki in his blade. Using his momentum, he sliced clean through the stalagmites. His ki flowed from his sword to his legs as he ran at them, then leaped over the barrier, landing on the other side. He sprinted away from the fight the moment his feet touched the ground.

Velal ran through the mountains, but he didn’t get far before the other two caught up. Another wave of fire swept the ground behind him. He slipped into a crevice too small for dragon or unicorn, then sidled through it, pressing the girl to him.

The cliffs on either side of him shifted and spread apart. He looked up, and saw an opening not far above him. He jumped to one side, then the other. In a few leaps, he broke the surface and kept running.

Valignatiejir landed in front of him and reached out a claw. A harsh wind picked up and threw Velal off his feet, away from the dragon. Velal vaulted off his hand, letting the wind carry him away from the fight.

Shisona charged him, but he parried her with his sword in midair. He took off again once he was back on solid ground. Stones rolled beneath his feet as he ran through the mountains, looking for some sign that help was on its way.

Before help arrived, the ground shook beneath him. He stumbled, but kept his footing, looking for another way to escape. Before he could find one, he started sinking. He tried picking up his feet, but he sank too fast to get out.

“Enough of this,” Shisona said, galloping up to him. She faced him, glaring at the girl. “I’m sorry, Velal. I mean you no ill will, but that girl must die before the dragon takes her.”

He stopped sinking as the ground turned back to stone. He tried to move his feet, but they were still held fast.

“Thank you, Shisona, for holding them for me,” Valignatiejir said, swooping down behind him. The ground shook when he landed, and again with each step.

Velal focused his ki into his sword, but didn’t make a move. He watched the other two, knowing that if he did anything, they’d have a few seconds in which he couldn’t act. It’d take time to cut himself free, time he and the girl didn’t have.

Before either of them could act, words rang out through the night. The ground cracked apart, freeing him. A large chunk of the ground ripped free and carried him over Shisona’s head to a newcomer’s side.

Lady Emgard set him down beside her, allowing him to step off the platform. The wrinkles on her face emphasised her scowl that she kept directed at Valignatiejir and Shisona.

Valignatiejir roared and sucked in a breath.

“Before you act,” Emgard said, “you might want to know that I’m not the only member of the court here.”

A light appeared in the darkness. It formed into a doorway, through which stepped King Fohra. Valignatiejir and Shisona stepped back as the king tapped his staff on the ground, breaking the door into smaller lights and sending them swirling around all five of them.

“Valignatiejir. Shisona.” The king addressed them both, then turned his focus to the dragon. “Valignatiejir, there are plenty of places in this world where dragons may exist peacefully. I ask that you find one of those places and leave Skwyr behind.”

Valignatiejir let out a low growl.

“Why would I do that?”

“You may be able to kill any one of us alone, but together, we both know you won’t be so fortunate. I’ve met you now; I’ll always be able to find you, and I don’t approve of what you’ve done.”

The dragon glared at them, then looked at the girl. Even on a dragon’s face, Velal could see the longing. There was something about this girl he needed, and he was thinking of challenging the king himself to get it.

“Don’t think this is the end,” he said at last. “I’ll be back.”

“I expect so,” the king said.

The dragon beat his wings and lifted off into the air. He swung around, then flew off into the night, disappearing like a shadow against the sky.

“Shisona,” the king said, turning to the unicorn, “thank you for telling us where to find him.”

“You must kill that girl.”

The king turned back to Velal and the girl. Velal wondered what he was thinking. Was he considering it? Was that the plan? It couldn’t be; they’d worked hard to retrieve her, to get her safe, and the king wouldn’t hide his real intentions from Velal like that.

“I feel it too,” he said. “The unease that creeps inside your head. That she was never meant to be like that.” He turned back to the unicorn. “But she is a citizen of Skwyr now, and we will find her a home. We will protect her, from all threats.”

Like Valignatiejir, Shisona glared at the girl again, but unlike Valignatiejir, Velal knew what she was thinking. Her longing was not for some unknown goal, it was to see the girl removed from existence.

She broke her gaze, then nodded to the king. “We shall meet again, Your Majesty.”

“I look forward to it.”

Shisona turned and galloped into the sky. The aura around her faded until she was nothing more than a star in the night.

“I think that was enough excitement for one day,” the king said, turning back to Emgard and Velal. “It’s time we took that poor girl back to her family.”

“Of course, Your Majesty,” Velal said.

The three of them turned around. The king spoke words that Velal couldn’t understand, and the lights from his spell reformed into a door. The king beckoned them forward, and the three of them returned to the castle, to deliver the girl back to her family and a new life.

Roshil pulled her work-in-progress out of the furnace. Setting it back on the anvil, she took her hammer to it again. The sound of metal hitting metal filled her ears, but spending time in the forge almost every day for the past month had turned it into white noise.

Once the metal cooled again, she shoved it back into the furnace. She wiped her brow with her sleeve, sweating in the heat.

“Apprentice Roshil!”

Hearing the Lord High Artisan’s voice, she spun around and stood to attention.

Lord Grund wheeled himself over to her. He looked as dirty as she was, but despite his wheelchair, he managed to give the impression that he loomed over everyone.

“Where’s Master Udra?” he asked.

Roshil glanced around the forge, but didn’t see her master anywhere.

“Don’t know, my lord. She was here earlier. Told me to work with the furnaces this afternoon.”

He looked at the piece of molten steel in the furnace behind her.

“I can see that. Pull that thing out before you ruin it. Nothing more useless than a deformed shield.”

She grabbed her tongs and pulled it out of the furnace, then placed it on the anvil in front of her. She grabbed it with a gloved hand and picked up her hammer in the other.

“Pack it up,” he ordered. “You’re finished for today.”

Roshil looked down at the shield. It wasn’t big, but a buckler still stopped arrows and steel.

“With all due respect, my lord, I’m nearly finished.”

“You’re right. It’ll make a fine shield. Unless you intend to use it to block attacks.”

She glared at him, then went back to work.

“You’re using the wrong tools,” he said.

She paused and studied her creation. It was a little lumpy in places, but she thought it was alright.

“And, you should still be practicing the basics. If you’d mastered them, you’d know what you’re doing wrong. So pack that up for another day.”

“Can’t you tell me what I’m doing wrong?” Roshil worked the metal more, smoothing it out while it was still hot.

“First you flatten it, then you mold it. If you try to do both at once, you end up with lumps and divots like you’re seeing now.”

She growled under her breath, but put down her hammer. After waiting for the metal to cool, she picked it up and moved it to her spot in storage. She took off her gloves, goggles, and apron and put them with the unfinished piece, then returned to the furnaces as Lord Grund was shutting them all down.

“You can go to dinner,” he said. “In fact, that’s an order. You skipped lunch again.”

An image of a hundred staring eyes in the great hall flashed into her mind.

“I’m fine.”

“Having trouble with orders today, I see.” He wheeled over to another furnace and deactivated the spell that kept it hot. He turned his wheelchair to face her. “Food. Now. And if you see Master Udra, tell her I want to see her.”

As much as she didn’t want to go to the great hall, she was hungry, and if she kept arguing, she knew from experience that she’d be banned from the forge for a day.

“Yes, my lord.”

Roshil walked through the door that connected the forge to the rest of the castle. As with all the magic doors in the castle, she felt a tingle when she stepped through it. No matter how many times she walked through one, it still made her smile to think of how beautiful that piece of magic was.

She walked away from the forge, through the stone corridors of Skwyr castle, heading toward the great hall. After spending all day in the forge, the cooler air felt good on her skin. She wiped away sweat again, then looked at her arm.

Five years of living in Skwyr, and she still felt out of place. Pale skin against a sea of brown. People around her whispering about the Kingdom of Nelaro, as though she’d ever been there. All she knew about it was that her mother had grown up there, and that Nelaro City was gone.

Then there were her hair and eyes. Streaks of red ran through her hair, and her eyes were gold. It was the first thing people saw when they saw her.

She walked past a group of apprentices. They glanced in her direction, but didn’t make eye contact. No one liked making eye contact with her, although she didn’t understand why. Were her eyes that bad? Why couldn’t people look past that?

I don’t care, she told herself. I don’t need them.

Sure, she looked different, but she wasn’t the only one. There were people from Alforn and Bywin in the castle too, even a few from Nelaro.

As she neared the great hall for dinner, she spotted a familiar face. It wasn’t a friendly face, but familiar was good enough for her.

“Master Udra!”

She was among a group of people Roshil didn’t recognize. Her first thought was other masters. At first, she didn’t respond, but one of her friends nodded in Roshil’s direction. Udra turned and glared at Roshil.

“Didn’t I tell you to stay in the forge until you were finished making a shield?”

Roshil clenched and unclenched her fists. Lord Grund had ordered her to leave. She was sure his orders overrode Master Udra’s. Why couldn’t people all agree on what she was supposed to do?

Udra said something to her friends, and they walked off, leaving them alone.

“Our Lord High Artisan told me to leave. He wants—”

“Sure he did. Or you’re avoiding working in the forge!”

Roshil frowned, not sure what she meant. People confused her, and she did whatever she could to avoid them, but she’d be content staying in the forge all day. It was the entire reason she became an apprentice. Master Udra should’ve known that.

“I’m not—”

“Don’t lie to me,” Udra said, lowering her voice. “Just because I’m responsible for you doesn’t mean I’m going to believe every word you say. Unless Our Lord High Artisan tells me himself that he dismissed you, you’d better get back to work.”

“I’m not lying,” Roshil hissed. She clenched her fists. Her lips drew back in a snarl.

“Why did I have to get stuck with you?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Look at you. Anyone can see you’re not normal. I’m not talking about your skin being white, I’m talking about that hair and those eyes.”

“People change the way they look all the time!”

“Normal people do. But you’re an abomination.”

Master Udra looked her in the eye, but shook as if it were painful for her. Roshil had seen that before, that contempt.

Another voice, one from long ago, crept into her mind.

I’m the only one who will ever love you.

“What?” she asked, pushing down old memories.

“You disobeyed an order from me,” Udra said, breaking eye contact. “Go back to the forge. Stay there until I tell you to leave. And never question me again.”

Roshil glared at her, but nodded nonetheless. She was tired of being pushed around, but no one cared enough about her to stop. She turned and started back toward the forge. Keeping her gaze straight ahead, she walked until she was sure Master Udra couldn’t see her, then turned and headed toward the north tower. Along the way, she spotted a familiar crack in the wall. It opened up at the floor, creating a crawlspace big enough for her to hide.

No one will ever love you.

A shiver ran through her body. She hated that voice, but it never left her. She could still feel those eyes on her, watching her from far away. Those same eyes now stared back at her from her own reflection.

He won’t hurt you anymore.

That’s what they’d told her when she’d been brought to the court. When she’d found out what had happened.

Roshil sat there, struggling to keep herself together. People went by, but no one saw her. She knew she was different. She had been for five years. Before that, people said she looked like her mother. But that thing had taken that from her. Taken her mother. Taken her brother’s sight.

I’m not your enemy, Roshil. I’m your friend. The only one you’ll ever have.

She shook her head, shoving those memories down. She held her legs tighter. It wasn’t her fault she was like this. She didn’t want to be.

Time passed, and people returned to their rooms. Curfew was approaching, which meant she’d missed dinner. That didn’t matter; she didn’t belong in the Court. Maybe she didn’t belong in the kingdom.

She heard a familiar sound echoing through the empty corridors. Glancing out of her hiding spot and down the corridor, she saw Lord Grund turn the corner.

She crawled out, got to her feet, and stood to attention.

“My Lord High Artisan.”

“It’s Master Grund, now,” he said. “I’m taking over your apprenticeship. Report to the forge immediately after breakfast tomorrow morning.”

He turned his wheelchair around and started off before stopping.

“Do you know why people don’t like you?”

“My mother was from Nelaro, and—”

“No.”

She frowned, wondering what it was he knew that she didn’t. Was there some other reason? Her hair and her eyes?

“Go to the kitchens for some food, then go to the library. Look up the term ‘dragon-touched’, and explain it to me tomorrow morning.”

“Is that what I am?”

“Curfew starts soon. You’d best get moving if you want to be ready.”

With that, Master Grund left her alone in the corridor.

#VolumeOne #APlaceToBelong

Roshil walked through the stone corridors of the castle. It was quiet, giving her the feeling that she shouldn’t be there.

If anyone asks, I’ve been ordered by my master to go to the kitchens.

It hadn’t entirely sunk in yet that she’d be mentored by the High Artisan himself. The great weapons of the Knights, the King’s throne, all the officers’ weaponry, even some of their clothing, it was all made by him. He was the best of the best.

Is that what I am?

He also seemed to know something about her that she herself didn’t know. What did dragon-touched mean? She knew the dragon had done something to her; it was obvious by her hair and eyes. What else had it done to her?

What am I?

She descended a spiral staircase down below the castle. She heard voices up ahead of her, and saw torchlight flickering from several rooms. These were the servants’ rooms, which weren’t far from the kitchens. Apprentices didn’t venture down here often, or so she’d been told when she’d arrived.

It’d only been a month ago, but it felt longer. Her arriving at the castle, saying goodbye to her father and brother, their friend Master Ekla meeting them at the gates to show her around her new home.

When she’d arrived, she’d been excited. Possibilities had opened up for her with her acceptance to the court. Her father had been so excited when they’d been told she’d been accepted.

“Your mother would’ve been so proud of you,” he’d said.

She walked down the corridors, following the signs to the kitchens. If there was one thing for which she was grateful, it was that there were signs throughout the castle to guide apprentices. Without them, she’d have gotten lost a dozen times a day between classes and the forge.

She arrived at the kitchens and walked inside. Servants were bustling about, cleaning up from the day’s meals, or preparing small snacks for themselves. When they saw her enter, they stood respectfully at attention.

“How may we help you?” one woman asked.

Roshil wondered if they recognized her in particular, or if they knew she wasn’t a servant.

“I missed dinner,” she said, “so His… my master sent me here to get something to eat.”

The woman nodded and motioned for Roshil to follow her. “If you’ll follow me, I’ll get you something to eat.”

She walked through the kitchens as the servants went back to work. Roshil watched with interest as they all moved with a purpose, everyone knowing where they needed to be.

The woman reached into a cupboard, took a plate, and handed it to Roshil.

“What’s left of dinner will be in there,” she said, pointing to a large cupboard. “Everything’s okay to eat. Take whatever you like.”

“Thank you,” Roshil said. She turned to the storage cupboard, then turned back to ask the woman her name, but she’d vanished. Roshil looked around the kitchen, but the woman was nowhere to be found.

She turned back and opened the cupboard. Not only was there light coming from the shelves, but the inside of the cupboard stretched into the distance. Roshil walked through, overwhelmed by the food inside. She spotted some chicken, and added that to her plate. After taking some greens (making her father happy) and potatoes, she left the cupboard.

She walked through the kitchens, taking a glass of water that was offered to her as she did, moving from one room to the next, until she found another familiar face sitting at a table. This one wasn’t only familiar, but friendly.

Master Ekla smiled at Roshil when she saw her. She stood up and motioned to an empty seat at her table.

“Roshil… Sorry, Apprentice Roshil.” She smiled with a touch of pride.

“Master Ekla,” Roshil said, smiling back at the closest thing she had to a friend in the castle. She sat down at the table across from Ekla, then tore into her chicken. The salty taste filled her mouth as she chewed.

“I see your table manners are as respectable as ever,” Ekla said, sitting back down.

“What?” Roshil mumbled through a mouthful of potato that had joined the chicken.

Ekla laughed, covering her mouth before sitting up straight.

“Cut, chew, swallow, talk, repeat,” she said. “A girl as smart as you can manage that.”

Roshil frowned, then put another bite of food in her mouth.

“What brings you here?” Ekla asked. “Skip dinner?”

Roshil nodded as she drank some water.

“Really?”

Roshil started to explain, but closed her mouth when Ekla motioned for her to be quiet.

“Swallow.”

Roshil forced the food down her throat.

“I was working on the furnaces. Master Grund told me—”

“Master Grund?”

Roshil sensed another lecture coming on about using the proper titles when referring to members of the court, so she explained before Ekla could start.

“He found me a few minutes ago, told me he was taking over my apprenticeship, then told me to get food because I’d missed dinner.”

Ekla nodded, a knowing look on her face.

“That makes sense.”

Roshil frowned, put more food in her mouth, then remembered to finish her mouthful before talking again.

“It does?”

“Master Udra… she’s not a people person. All Masters are supposed to take on an apprentice sometime, but not all of them are good at it.”

You’re an abomination.

“I noticed,” Roshil said, putting an edge to her voice.

While Roshil ate her next mouthful, Ekla stood up and walked away. Her voice came from another room, along with the clattering of silver. She came back a moment later with a fork and knife.

“These might help,” she said, sitting back down and handing them to Roshil.

Roshil stared at them.

“Can I stab Master Udra with them?”

“Roshil!” Ekla snapped. “No! They’re for eating! Don’t talk about anyone like that!”

“She started it! I didn’t do anything wrong! She’s the one that said I was an abomination!”

Ekla froze, her eyes fixed on Roshil. Even the sounds of the servants seemed to fade away.

“She didn’t,” she said in a low voice. “Roshil, that’s not funny.”

“I’m not lying!” Roshil shouted. Her lips drew back into a snarl.

“Lower your voice. Calm down, I believe you.”

Roshil sat back in her chair, glaring at Ekla. The rage inside her quelled, and she took another drink of water.

“I believe you,” Ekla said again. “Our Lord High Artisan wouldn’t have taken you on himself without good reason.”

Roshil placed the utensils on the table, then ignored them and picked up the chicken and took another bite.

“Stop eating for a minute so I can talk to you, please.”

Roshil grumbled and put down her food. While she could tune out hunger when she was working, it was harder when it was right in front of her and she hadn’t eaten since breakfast. That, and ripping something apart made her feel better.

“Are you alright?” Ekla asked.

“Fine. People have always been that way. I don’t know why you’re surprised.”

“People aren’t supposed to be that way. Your brother isn’t. I’m not.”

Roshil thought of her brother. The one person in the world that had never treated her worse. He was nice to everyone, but he’d always been a little nicer to her than everyone else.

“Sure. But everyone else is. I shouldn’t have come here. I should go home.”

Ekla shook her head.

“Remember when you told me you wanted to be an apprentice? What was my first question?”

“‘Why?’”

“And you said you wanted to work in the forge. You didn’t have to become an apprentice to work in the forge, but you did anyway.”

Roshil nodded, remembering their discussions about it over the past several months. Serving the court seemed tedious, but the stories of people of all sorts fitting in at the court had made her want to go. She’d believed it. She liked making things, and she wanted to be at the court.

“I wanted to be where people could fit in,” she said. “Where I could fit in.”

She hated admitting it to anyone out loud, but Ekla had worn her down months ago by questioning her about her motives.

“And I want to be like my mother.”

As much as I still can be.

“You belong here too,” Ekla said. “If Our Lord High Artisan took over your apprenticeship, he thinks so too.”

They didn’t say anything after that until after Roshil had finished her food. The only conversation they had was Ekla giving significant looks at her and the utensils near her plate, and the nods when Roshil started using them.

“Do you know what ‘dragon-touched’ means?” Roshil asked when she’d finished and a servant had cleared her plate.

“No, why? Is… is that what that thing did to you?”

“I don’t know. Master Grund told me to look it up after I was finished here.”

Ekla got up from the table.

“Then you’ve got to get going. Curfew’s in half an hour. I’ll walk you to the library, but I can’t stay with you. I have important master things to do.”

Roshil nodded and got up from the table. She wasn’t sure she wanted anyone else to know the truth about her. If she was right, it was why people hated her. It made her inhuman.

An abomination.

They left the kitchens, with Master Ekla leading the way. No one questioned them or reminded them that it was almost curfew. They walked through the corridors until they reached the door with the word “Library” in gold letters above it.

“You’re on your own from here,” Ekla said. “Don’t worry about whatever you find out in there. It doesn’t change who you are.”

“I’m not worried,” Roshil said, ignoring the churning feeling in her stomach. She chalked it up to having eaten too fast. It certainly wasn’t from nerves, because she wasn’t nervous at all.

Ekla faced her and stood at attention.

“Good luck, Apprentice Roshil.”

Roshil mirrored her posture.

“Thank you, Master Ekla.”

Ekla turned and left, leaving Roshil to discover the nature of her curse alone.

#VolumeOne #APlaceToBelong

The library of Skwyr spanned three stories. Roshil walked in on the ground floor and looked up, wondering where the books on dragons were. She could see up to the top floor, but had no idea how long she’d have to look. With curfew approaching, she had to be back in her room soon.

She looked around the first floor, trying to remember where the librarian was. She started walking further into the library, hoping to stumble upon someone that could help her.

No. I don’t need help. I don’t need anyone.

She spotted a sign up ahead and walked over to it. She scanned the list of sections and saw one with animals. Following the sign, she made her way up one floor. Walking through shelves of books, she kept her head up.

Roshil turned a corner into an aisle just as someone else turned out of it.

“Sorry,” the other girl whispered as they nearly ran into one another.

Roshil opened her mouth to say something, but she stopped when she saw the other girl.

Her bright brown eyes stood out against her black skin. Her hair was done up in a pair of braids going past her shoulders. She clutched a book in her hands.

“Sorry,” Roshil said.

“Sh,” the other girl said.

She kept her head down and walked around Roshil.

“Can you help me?” Roshil asked, trying to keep her voice down. “I’m looking for books on dragons.”

The other girl froze and glanced back at her. She stared for a moment, and Roshil caught those eyes moving to Roshil’s hair.

“My name’s Roshil,” she said. “What’s yours?”

The girl averted her eyes and spotted something interesting on her shoes.

“Aonva.” She met Roshil’s gaze. “I can help you find what you need, but we don’t have long.”

Roshil smiled at her. She felt excited for the first time all day.

“Anything particular on dragons?”

Roshil hesitated and wondered if it was okay to tell her. Without knowing what she’d find, Roshil couldn’t know if it was bad. What if she was a monster waiting to emerge and slaughter the castle? Udra might deserve it, but Aonva was nice.

She is nice. And she’s different too.

“My master told me to look up ‘dragon-touched’. I think it’s a spell specific to dragons.”

The face of a black dragon loomed over her. He hissed words Roshil didn’t understand, then moved his claw to her. She backed into a corner and squeezed her eyes shut. She wanted to scream for help, but no one was coming. Everyone she’d ever known was dead, he’d said.

I’m the only one who cares about you, Roshil. I promise, I’ll take good care of you.

“Excuse me?”

Roshil opened her eyes. She was in the library, in Skwyr. Safe. Aonva was watching her. Was that concern? Was she worried? Did she care? Why did it matter?

Roshil’s heart had started beating faster than she thought it was supposed to be. She calmed herself down, pushing memories of that thing back where they belonged.

“Are you alright?”

Roshil grinned and nodded.

“I’m fine.”

“If you’re sure. The hospital’s—”

“I’m fine,” Roshil repeated, not wanting to go near that place again. All it held was bad news.

Aonva turned and walked back into the aisle she’d been in. Roshil followed her a little ways until she stopped. Aonva pulled a book out, tucking her own book under her arm. She handed it to Roshil without taking her eyes off the shelves. She grabbed another book, then another one, and handed them both to her. Aonva took two more books and gave them to Roshil. After thinking for a moment, she pulled one out from the middle of the stack in Roshil’s arms and put it back.

“I think I remember reading something about it in one of these.”

“Come on,” Roshil said. “It’ll be faster to look if we both do it.”

She didn’t think she wanted help, but she didn’t want Aonva to leave.

“It’s almost curfew. Just check them out and find it later.”

“I’ve got to find it tonight!”

“Keep your voice down.” Aonva glanced at the clock. “I’ll help, but only for a few minutes.”

“Great!” Tucking the books under her arm, Roshil grabbed Aonva’s free hand and led her over to a table. “Are you an apprentice?”

“Um… yes. I’m an apprentice mage under Master Kaernin. Um… what about you?”

“Artisan, under Master Grund.”

“Our Lord High Artisan? I didn’t think the officers took apprentices.”

“He took over my apprenticeship a few hours ago when he realized my old master wasn’t good at it.”

Roshil sat down at the table and put the books down. She slid one over to Aonva and started flipping through another one.

“There’s an index at the back,” Aonva said, flipping to the back of the book in front of her. “Got it.” She flipped through the book, then began to read.

“Through prolonged exposure to magic, creatures are known to mutate. While this often happens as a result of exposure to Nature’s Essence, resulting in griffins, phoenixes, etc., it is also known to occur as a result of magic.”

Roshil frowned, then looked at the page upside down. Where was this going?

“Dragons, being the source of magic, have an enchantment to expedite this process,” Aonva continued. “Those enchanted this way are known as dragon-touched. The particular symptoms differ from dragon to dragon, but physical effects are common, eyes and hair in particular.”

“That’s… me.”

Thoughts rushed into Roshil’s head. The world started to spin. She shook her head, trying to stay grounded. Why had it done that to her?

“Why?”

Aonva skimmed the page, then began again. “There’s no consensus as to what benefits this provides to the dragon. Some researchers believe it strengthens the bond between dragon and victim, while others believe it to be a way of branding those they believe they own.”

“No one owns me!” Roshil hissed.

She clenched her fists, and a low growl escaped her throat.

“Did you just growl?” Aonva asked.

Roshil grabbed the book and skimmed the page. None of this answered why people hated her so much. Did they all know what she was? Did they think she was a dragon’s servant?

“It’s worth noting that those exposed to Nature’s Essence are known to react negatively towards the dragon-touched. While unicorns in particular believe dragon-touched creatures to be a disruption of the natural order, most humans have some natural instinct that compels them to distrust, or even hate dragon-touched humans. This is exacerbated by prolonged exposure to Nature’s Essence, making druids the most outspoken against those who have been dragon-touched.”

She stared at the book, at the word “hate”. This was what that thing had done to her. People near her had an instinctive hatred of her. They always would. What was the point of trying to make friends if they’d hate her eventually?

“I’m really sorry.”

Roshil tore her eyes away from the book. Aonva stared at her with sad eyes. She didn’t look like she hated her yet. Was it only a matter of time? What about Master Ekla, or her brother, or her father, or Master Grund? Would they all hate her in the end?

“You don’t hate me, do you?”

Aonva took the book from her and closed it. She looked down, but shook her head.

“It feels a little weird being around you, but it’s not bad. I… I don’t really have friends.”

“You do now!” Roshil exclaimed.

“Would you keep your voice down?” Aonva hissed. “We’re in a library!”

“I know that,” Roshil whispered back.

Aonva got up and took the books back to the shelf. Roshil followed her, wanting to spend as much time as she could with her new friend.

Aonva put the books back, then glanced at the clock on the wall.

“Oh no.” She pushed past Roshil, nearly running through the library. Roshil raced after her.

“It’s almost past curfew,” Aonva said. “We’ll be in so much trouble.”

“Only if we’re caught,” Roshil said with a grin.

The two friends raced out of the library as the lights began to dim to remind them that it was time for bed.

#VolumeOne #APlaceToBelong

The next morning, Roshil ate breakfast with Aonva. Roshil had never eaten with anyone in the castle before, apart from Master Ekla the previous night. She glanced around and saw people all over sitting together and talking, as though everyone else had friends. She turned back and smiled at Aonva. Now she did too.

“What?” Aonva asked.

“I’ve never had a friend before!” Roshil said, then focused on her food when her face felt hot.

“Me either,” Aonva said, just loud enough to be heard over the din of the great hall. “I spend a lot of time in the library, so I’ve never gotten to know people here.”

Roshil tore into a slice of ham, stabbing it with her knife and fork.

“What about your master?” she asked before she’d finished her food. She glanced across the hall and spotted Master Ekla eyeing her from behind Aonva. Roshil wasn’t certain, but she thought she saw her mouth “cut, chew, swallow, talk” before smiling at her.

“I’m sorry?” Aonva asked after she’d finished her own mouthful. She didn’t eat with the same enthusiasm as Roshil. Instead, she picked at her food, never eating too much.

“Your master?” Roshil asked.

“Oh, that’s Master Kaernin. He’s nice, if not terribly talkative. You said you were being taught by Our Lord High Artisan, right?”

Roshil nodded and glanced up at the officers looming over them. Master Grund wasn’t there. Maybe he was already in the forge. Would he be upset if she arrived too early?

“He wants to see me right after breakfast,” Roshil said, then turned back to Aonva. “You don’t think it’s bad, do you?”

“I don’t know. Probably not, right?”

Roshil shrugged and ate more of her food. They didn’t talk much before they were finished and everyone began to leave. Roshil bid farewell to her new friend, then made her way through the castle to the forge. When she arrived, she found Master Grund there, working on something.

“Master Grund!”

“Apprentice Roshil, right on time.” He put down his work and turned to her. “What did you find out?”

Roshil repeated everything she’d read the night before. It didn’t feel real, even when she said it out loud. This was her. She was enchanted, an enchantment she guessed couldn’t be undone. Her face and eyes were going to be like this forever. People would always glare at her, insult her, regard her as inhuman. She was grateful Aonva was a mage and not a druid.

“Very good,” he said when she was finished talking. While she’d been talking, he’d placed his project in a furnace. When he removed it, he took a chisel and began carving something into it.

“Now it’s my turn. There’s something that you need to understand about Skwyr Court. There’s a place for everyone. Years ago, it wasn’t like this. The Kingdom of Nelaro was the norm, not accepting people outside the kingdom into the court, not allowing them to make the rules. Only the royal family or people like them had a say.”

He looked her dead in the eye. She gasped and took a step back, unaccustomed to people being so direct with her.

“Your family knows that better than most, I think.”

Roshil nodded, remembering the stories her mother had told her about growing up in Nelaro. It also crossed her mind that Master Grund knew a lot more about her than she’d realized. If it’d been anyone else, she’d assume they were just assuming she’d grown up in Nelaro, but Master Grund was better than that.

“But now, we make room for everyone. His Majesty sees to it. Had he taken the throne when he was your age, we’d have called him ‘her majesty’. Lord Gorkle prefers ‘Grand Master Gorkle’ because zie doesn’t identify as male or female, and doesn’t believe our titles should force us to identify as such.”

“‘Zie’?” Roshil asked.

“Gender-neutral pronoun,” Grund replied. He tapped his chair. “My legs have never worked, and when I was married, it wasn’t to a woman. Lady Emgard doesn’t feel the need for companionship at all. Half of the officers come from outside the kingdom, and we accept more people in every day.”

“So everyone’s different,” Roshil said, not understanding the point of the lecture. “But none of them compel people to hate them!”

Grund flipped the metal over in his hands, inspecting it. Roshil caught a glimpse of it, then glanced over at the storage cupboard. Was that her shield?

“You think because you have magic making people distrust you, that you can never fit in?” He glanced at her and let out a laugh that echoed through the forge. “Ha! You think there aren’t people that hated me and my husband because we were different from them? There will always be people that hate you because you’re different. Always remember, Apprentice Roshil, that it’s not you that needs to be fixed.”

He held the shield, closed his eyes, and muttered under his breath. Roshil picked out a few words, but it was all in the arcane language.

“Are you enchanting that?”

“Enchanting something you make happens throughout the crafting process,” he said when he was finished. “You start the enchantment when you start the project. It makes the spell a part of the object, so the two will always live together.”

He wheeled over to her and handed her the shield. It wasn’t perfect. There were rough edges and divots, and it was too small to do any good. It bore a spiral pattern now, with a flower engraved over it.

“All you need is someone to accept you for who and what you are, and help you grow into the best person you can be.” He placed the shield on her wrist, where it stayed without a strap, then extended her arm toward the wall. “Do you know the arcane word for ‘extend’?”

She nodded. “Deistudo.”

“Good. Now, focus on the shield, and say it like you’re reaching out to grab something.”

Beginning to catch on, Roshil focused on the shield and repeated the word.

“Deistudo.”

The shield uncoiled and a thin ribbon snapped out in front of her. The ribbon stopped abruptly when it reached the far wall.

“What’s the word for ‘contract’?” he asked.

She focused on the ribbon returning to her, and said, “Odstowro.”

The shield coiled back up, returning to her wrist to sit snugly as though it had never moved.

“Don’t use it on people in the court,” he said. “Don’t hurt anyone except in self-defense. If you’re going to impress your new friend, don’t do anything stupid.”

Roshil nodded, then frowned when something occurred to her.

“You weren’t at breakfast, how’d you know—”

“You weren’t my first visitor this morning,” he replied.

She nodded again, then looked down at the shield. She noticed the flower pattern again, then asked him about it.

“Everyone has a single, unique name,” he said. “It’s the Naming Phenomenon. For some reason, everyone ends up with a unique name in the arcane language. Do you know what yours means?”

She shook her head, but guessed the answer based on what he’d carved on the shield.

“It’s a type of flower,” he replied. “Like ‘Grund’ is a type of metal. You’ll learn all about that in your time at the court.” He handed her a piece of paper. “That’s your new schedule. Your classes have been rearranged, but I think you’ll find the arcane language classes more enjoyable now. The bad news is that you only get to work on the basics of forging for a few months.”

Roshil nodded again, still more interested in the shield than anything else. It wasn’t big, but it would help keep her safe. It would help her protect herself.

“What you said before,” she said. “About there being a place for everyone. The world isn’t like that.”

“Maybe not the whole world, but we’ve built an entire kingdom on it.”

He picked up his hammer and chisel, then went to put them away.

“Get your apron and gloves. We’re gonna start with the basics today.”

Roshil stuck her new schedule with her old schedule in a pouch on her belt, then followed Master Grund to the furnaces.

#VolumeOne #APlaceToBelong

Later that day, Ekla made her way to the forge. She knew Roshil wouldn’t be there. There were a few apprentices and masters running around, working with the furnaces. But the person she’d come to see was there too.

“My Lord High Artisan,” Ekla said, standing to attention. “I humbly request a minute of your time.”

He looked up from the furnaces.

“She’ll be alright,” he said.

Ekla didn’t allow her confusion to show on her face. “My lord?”

“Your equipment’s fine, so unless you want me to knit you a nice sweater or a pair of socks, I can only assume you’re here to ask about Apprentice Roshil.”

She didn’t want to seem out of line, but she knew better than to confront Roshil directly about her feelings. That would get her an “I’m fine!” and a growl for her troubles. She looked around at the other people in the forge. She couldn’t exactly lower her voice with the sounds of the forge all around them.

“Yes, My Lord. May I ask you something?”

“You just did.”

“Did you send me to the kitchens because you knew she’d be there? So I could talk to her?”

He pulled an iron bar out of his furnace and laid it over an anvil. He took a hammer to it, adding to the sounds of metal striking metal ringing through the forge.

“What do you think?”

“I think so, but I don’t understand why.”

That wasn’t entirely true. She’d been a master for over five years, but she still remembered the feeling of being told to talk to someone without being made to understand why. She’d eventually learned that it was part of the training of a knight. Learning to help anyone, even people you didn’t know.

He turned the iron rod over and started hitting the other side as the tip changed from orange to pink. After it cooled, he wheeled over to the furnace again and shoved the tip of the rod back inside.

“When most people start their apprenticeship, they’ve grown up in the court. They might have dreams of taking the throne one day, or being an officer, or just finding adventure.” He pulled the rod out and returned to striking it on the anvil. “Those people have it hard enough, because being a teenager is difficult on its own. But then there are those who grow up thinking they can’t possibly fit in anywhere.” He glanced at her before fetching a chisel to hold against the rod. “Like your apprentice, for one. Or Apprentice Roshil’s new best friend. Or Apprentice Roshil’s brother, when he gets here in a few months.”

In spite of everything, Ekla smiled to think of the happy little boy with no eyes. As nervous as she was to see him in the castle, she had no doubt he’d manage by himself. He’d gotten good at it over the past five years.

“When there are people like that, it’s important that they find someone to look after them, remind them that the world isn’t horrible like they think it is.”

“I doubt Oshal will ever think the world’s horrible.” She thought for a moment, then asked, “If I may ask, My Lord, why did you assign Roshil to Udra?”

“Master Udra was the only master I had under me that hadn’t had an apprentice yet.”

“For good reason,” Ekla grumbled.

“I’d seen Apprentice Roshil work before. She focuses on the task at hand until it’s finished, so I thought she’d be an easy apprentice to have. Sure, she has some issues with authority, but most people her age do. She wants to do things her own way, so she needs a nudge in the right direction from time to time. When I realized that Master Udra wasn’t doing even that much work, I knew it was time to take over myself.”

He brought the rod over to a press, then bent the rod until it snapped where he’d been chiseling it.

“Do you know what Master Udra called R— Apprentice Roshil?”

“No, but I can guess.” He placed the rest of the rod aside and inspected the piece he’d snapped off. “When I found her in her usual hiding spot, I knew it had to be bad. That’s why I sent you in.”

“That little crevice in the wall near the north tower?” Ekla asked.

“That’s the one.” He placed the piece of metal on the anvil and started hammering it again. “I keep filling that in, but someone keeps breaking through it again.”

Ekla suppressed a laugh. They both knew who that someone was. There was an artisan who always went there when life was too tough. It hadn’t been the first time, and Ekla wished she’d been able to be there for her every time like she’d been this time.

“How’d you know what it did to her?” Ekla asked. “The dragon, I mean. She said you told her to look up ‘dragon-touched’.”

“Lord Velal recognized it when he got her away from that dragon. Lady Emgard confirmed it. They told the rest of us when we considered her for apprenticeship.”

“Why didn’t anyone ever tell her? Why didn’t anyone ever tell me?!”

“What was there to tell? That some people would hate her for the rest of her life? That we can’t undo it? That we don’t even know the extent of what it did? Besides, not many people outside the officers knew about it.”

“So?” Ekla’s voice approached a shriek. Some instinct told her not to speak to him like that, but she pushed it aside. Roshil was like family to her.

“Most people won’t know she’s been touched by a dragon. If they did, it could be worse. Every druid will already look at her funny. If they knew, they might start thinking she’s working for the dragon.”

Ekla wanted to argue more, but she knew it hadn’t been his decision. Had they been afraid that she’d tell Roshil and her family? Why had Lord Velal of all people kept her in the dark?

“Have you met her new friend?” Grund asked.

Ekla shook her head, but smiled. “I saw them eating together. Roshil looked happy. I don’t think she’s had friends before.” She frowned. “You weren’t at breakfast.”

“News travels fast.”

Ekla waited for him to elaborate, but he continued to work on his project with no further response.

“Do the others know you told her?”

Lord Grund inspected the metal in his hand that had slowly taken the shape of a blade. After a time, she realized he wasn’t going to answer that question either.

“That will be all, My Lord.”

She stood at attention.

“Keep an eye on her,” he said without taking his eyes off the blade. “Like I said, she needs a nudge in the right direction from time to time.”

“Yes, My Lord.”

She turned and left the forge, letting her mind wander for a moment. It would be hard for Roshil, but Ekla was going to see to it that she was looked after. For now, she had her other responsibilities. She made her way through the castle, wondering where her own apprentice had disappeared to this time.

#VolumeOne #APlaceToBelong

Aonva and Roshil walked through the corridors of the castle. Aonva had been there for months and she still wasn’t used to it. She gazed up at the ceiling overhead and smiled.

“It took them a year to build the castle,” she said. “They had artisans working the whole time. While some slept, others were working. They enchanted defenses into it to keep away threats to the court. Then there were the magic doors. The Queen said she didn’t want a better library than she gave the people. It seemed silly to build two libraries, one for the servants of the court, and one for everyone else. Or two forges, or two schools, or two hospitals. So the High Artisan at the time had an idea to make the doors.”

She turned back to Roshil, who was smiling at her.

“Sorry.” Aonva looked away. “I was rambling again. I… I do that sometimes, especially when I’m nervous, then I keep talking until I’m not, but it never actually helps, so instead I keep talking and don’t stop, and—”

“Do you think they could’ve gotten the doors to work without having to carry our IDs with us?” Roshil asked, stopping her ramblings short.

“I doubt it. Only servants of the court can use them, otherwise it’d leave the castle vulnerable to attack. They had to enchant something, otherwise they’d have to enchant us, and that’s a lot harder. Besides, we can’t leave our rooms without them. Remember the magic doors at the north tower?”

Roshil made a face like she’d just eaten a lemon.

“Now you sound like Master Grund.”

“Sorry! Is that not going well? You seem happy with Our Lord High Artisan teaching you. I guess. I mean, I didn’t know you before that, so—”

“It’s fine.” Roshil grimaced. Aonva liked how expressive she was. She wasn’t afraid to express herself, the thought of which terrified Aonva. “We started knitting yesterday.”

Aonva had to stifle a laugh. She knew artisans needed to know how to make anything the court might need, but the thought of His Lord High Artisan — or Roshil — sitting around and knitting was too strange for her.

They didn’t have long before they both had class, but they had just enough time to explore part of the castle. While Aonva had wanted to spend their free time in the library, Roshil had dragged her along on “an adventure”. As Aonva studied more of their surroundings, she checked her mental map of the castle.

“This is… We’re near the west tower.”

“Yup.” Roshil pointed up ahead at the end of the corridor. A single door stood at the end. “Remember last week when you wondered about where the officers lived?”

Beyond that door were the private chambers of the six officers of the court and His Majesty, along with a meeting room. To say they’d be in trouble if they managed to get inside would be an understatement.

“I did, but we shouldn’t be here.” Aonva glanced back down the corridor for anyone coming.

Roshil glanced behind them, then crouched down to see the lock on the door. She inspected it for a moment, then produced a pair of long, thin pieces of metal from a pouch on her belt.

“Are those lock picks?” Aonva lowered her voice, fearing that raising her voice would cause one of the officers to materialize behind them. “Did you make those? Why did you make those?”

More questions flooded her head while Roshil remained silent. Why hadn’t His Lord High Artisan stopped her? Had he realized she was making them? He must have noticed them.

“Roshil.” Aonva pleaded with her friend. She didn’t want to know what would happen if someone happened to glance down the corridor and see them. They were exposed to another corridor not far away, save the lack of lighting in the area. Someone could spot them at any moment.

“My father says that if they don’t want you to get in, then they need to protect it better.” Roshil slid the pieces of metal inside and began to work them. “I’m surprised they even have a door. Why not a magic one that only they can use, like our rooms?”

“Who cares?” Despite her saying it, Aonva was wondering the same thing. She knew the officers’ families lived in the castle with them, but they could have baubles like the ones that let the apprentices use the doors out of the castle. Why have a door to their private chambers that could so easily be passed? They’d discovered that they couldn’t enter the other’s room. Was that why? Have a regular door so other people could enter?

She glanced back over her shoulder. No one was there. How had no one come by yet?

Aonva kept her eyes on the corridor. With luck, Roshil would get bored when it was too difficult. That didn’t stop Aonva’s heart from pounding in her ears.

“I know I asked about it, but I… I was just rambling. I didn’t think—”

“Ha!” Roshil leaped to her feet and pushed the door open. Despite the possible felony she’d just committed, she wore a grin like an excited child. “Told you I could do it.”

“How—”

“I grew up outside the kingdoms,” Roshil said as though it were obvious. “Cities didn’t always give us food, so me and my father would… improvise.” She pushed the door farther. “Shall we find the answer to your question?”

The two of them looked through the open door. Beyond it was another corridor, that ended with… another door.

The excited look faded from Roshil’s face. Like the magic doors in the rest of the castle, this one had no handle. In fact, it looked exactly like another magic door.

“The first one’s enchanted to make people ignore it,” a new voice said. “Obviously, it doesn’t work on some people.”

Aonva whirled around. All things considered, there were worse people to catch them breaking and entering.

“Apprentice Aonva, Apprentice Roshil.” Master Ekla stood with her arms folded. Behind her, a boy not much older than them wore an expression that looked sympathetic, yet implied he’d rather they be in trouble than him. “I’m sure this isn’t as bad as it looks.”

“Nope!” Roshil closed the door behind her. “Nothing to see except two apprentices learning about their new home.”

Master Ekla covered her face with her hand and sighed.

“One warning. That’s all I’m giving you. That door’s locked for a reason. I don’t want to catch you here again.”

“Then you and your apprentice shouldn’t be following us,” Roshil said, her voice taking on a slight edge.

Aonva was too stunned to express any emotion at that. Not only did Roshil seem to refuse to learn manners, but she’d accused a master of following them! Master Ekla wasn’t following them, was she? Aonva thought back on the past few weeks. She’d seen Master Ekla plenty of times, but not enough that she’d met her apprentice. Thinking about it, she’d never seen Master Ekla before she and Roshil became friends, but now she always seemed to be right around the corner.

Master Ekla glanced back at her apprentice. “Apprentice Kurgm.” The boy stood at attention. “This is Apprentice Roshil and Apprentice Aonva. If anyone asks, you didn’t see them here.”

Kurgm. Haven’t I heard that name somewhere?

“It’s really not that interesting,” Kurgm said. “The officers don’t spend much time in their rooms anyway. It’s mostly a bigger version of our rooms, split into smaller rooms for their families. Most of them don’t even bother decorating them.”

“Thank you, Apprentice Kurgm,” Master Ekla said. Aonva could hear her patience dying in her voice. “You two have arcane language class.”

“Because every good stalker knows her prey’s schedule,” Roshil muttered.

“We’re leaving.” Aonva grabbed Roshil’s hand. “Thank you for your kindness, Master Ekla.” She turned to Kurgm. “It was nice to meet you, Apprentice Kurgm.”

“We’ll run into them after class too,” Roshil said as Aonva pulled her away. “Completely by coincidence, I’m sure.”

Aonva didn’t slow down for anything until they’d passed through the door to the school and her heart had stopped beating so loud. She paused for a breath before going any further. She checked the time. They’d be late for class if they didn’t keep moving.

“We have to get to class,” Aonva said.

Roshil smiled and nodded. If Aonva hadn’t been there, she wouldn’t have known Roshil had been caught breaking and entering moments ago.

“I’m sorry we didn’t get to see it,” Roshil said.

“It’s really fine. Let’s just get to class.”

They went to class, trying not to run in their haste. When they arrived, they found they weren’t the only ones who hadn’t arrived yet. A few of the students from outside the castle weren’t there either.

They both took seats at the back of the room. Master Dordir waited until the last students had arrived before greeting them.

“Good morning, class.”

They all stood at attention and addressed him with a chorus of “Good morning, Master Dordir”. Once they had, they took their seats again.

He faced the board and wrote words for them to copy. Each one was an emotion. As Aonva copied them down, she filed them away in her head, wondering how she could use them.

While she was writing, she heard a noise. It was small, like a squeak or… a whimper.

She turned and saw Roshil staring at the board. Her body trembled slightly. Every few seconds, a whimper escaped her lips.

Then she screamed.

#VolumeOne #MakingFriends

Roshil fell out of her chair and stumbled back. She curled up and buried her head in her arms.

“Leave me alone!” she screamed.

Aonva stared at her. Her mind ground to a halt. She wanted to help Roshil. She wanted her to stop screaming, to smile again. Aonva loved it when Roshil smiled. Should she try running to her? Would that help?

Master Dordir ran across the room to Roshil. He checked her over, then covered his mouth with his hands. He whispered something, then blew on his palm. Snowflakes appeared and fluttered through the air on his breath.

A messenger spell.

“No!” Roshil backed away from Master Dordir. “No more! Please! Leave me alone!”

Roshil’s screams mixed with sobs. She trembled and recoiled from Dordir’s touch.

“Apprentice Roshil, can you hear me?”

Roshil didn’t answer. Aonva wanted to rush over to her friend’s side, but what then? What would she say? Would it make things better or worse? What if she only got in the way? What was happening? Why didn’t she know?

Roshil continued her fit until help arrived. Two people dressed in white tunics bearing a pattern of three green arcs arranged in a bigger arc, the symbol for the hospital.

Roshil hates the hospital.

Aonva could only imagine how upset Roshil would be when she calmed down and realized she was in the hospital. Should Aonva say something? Perhaps His Lord High Artisan would know what to do? Or Master Ekla? How was she not right there the one time Aonva needed her?

Before Aonva could make words come out of her mouth, the two attendants carried Roshil out of the room. Aonva watched her friend leave, then wondered if she could go with her. Maybe it’d be better if Roshil had a friend with her.

It’d be better if she weren’t there at all.

Master Dordir stood up and returned to the front of the classroom.

“Is everyone else alright?”

Aonva became aware of the whispers between people around the room. Many of them glanced back at her. She caught words like “crazy” and “wrong”. There was nothing wrong with Roshil, she’d been attacked. Even Aonva didn’t know most of the details. She suspected she wouldn’t know any of it if she hadn’t been there when Roshil learned about her condition. Aonva was always too afraid to ask.

That night, Aonva had been researching the origin of magic and the dragons that had taught it to humans. It made her smile to think that if she’d been anywhere else, she wouldn’t have bumped into Roshil. Or if she’d left, she wouldn’t have made a new friend.

Roshil’s eyes were hard to look at sometimes, and Aonva could feel a sense that there was something not quite right about Roshil, but her friend never cared that Aonva was different too. And no one else stood up for her like Roshil did (even if it wasn’t always helpful). Her parents had always dismissed her ramblings and ignored her questions.

The whispers died down, and Master Dordir continued with class. Aonva copied down everything he said. Roshil would need to know what she’d missed. While she was writing, Aonva looked over her notes, wondering what had set off Roshil. It had to have reminded her of the dragon, but what?

They’d been copying down words at the time. What word was it? She looked at the list while Master Dordir talked about the importance of understanding the words. They were emotions. Had the dragon used them a lot? Had it been part of the spell he’d put on her?

Shorarl (love), Melyuk (hate), Keska (hope), Valign (fear), Vorum (courage). The list went on, but she couldn’t tell what it had been without talking to Roshil. Was it safe to bring it up? What if she made it worse by asking? What good did it do either of them to know what had happen?

Aonva tried to put it out of her mind, but she was worried about her friend. Unlike Roshil, Aonva couldn’t do anything to help. Roshil didn’t always make a situation better, tending to have the opposite effect, but she tried. She was right there to stand up for Aonva, but when Roshil had needed Aonva’s help, she’d froze.

Aonva focused on taking notes. That would help a little, so Roshil wouldn’t have to miss anything.

If I’d done something sooner, maybe she wouldn’t be missing anything.

She hardly thought about anything else the entire time she was in class. By the time she was finished, she was determined to figure out what had happened. After class, she found somewhere out of the way and sat down.

She closed her eyes and went into her library. The massive, organized collection of books materialized in her head. It wasn’t perfect, of course, because it wasn’t real, but it was good enough that she could usually find what she needed.

She walked along the rows of books, heading for the same section she’d been in the real library the night she’d met Roshil. The section on dragons. Nothing else bothered Roshil. In the weeks Aonva had known her, nothing phased her. They’d been picked on by people in the corridors, everyone gave them both dirty looks, and she was sure Master Udra was carrying a grudge. But Roshil ignored all of it.

Unless dragons came up. She was uncomfortable talking about them. She’d growl under her breath while working on any classwork involving dragons. Aonva never asked about her attack, but there must’ve been something about it in the library. It’d been five years ago, she knew that much. So she must’ve read something about it.

She walked along the rows of books until she came to the section on dragons. Once she’d found where she’d put the history of dragons, she took the book and went through it in her head.

Years ago, she’d happened upon a book about remembering information. It’d said that anyone could remember anything, so long as there was a path to it in your head. Aonva had spent years working on it, and once she’d gotten good at it, she’d tried to absorb as much information as she could, filing away every piece of information she got her hands on.

She had information on the history of dragons in Skwyr Court, so there must’ve been something about a dragon taking someone prisoner. Magic wasn’t easy to do on the spot, even for dragons. It must’ve taken her somewhere, and someone would’ve written about it.

She picked through every piece of information she had, but she didn’t find anything on an attack on Skwyr in the last five years. Instead, she found attacks on other places. Nelaro Court, followed shortly by a brief reference to the Lapurela tribe, a group of nomads outside the kingdoms wiped out by the same dragon.

I grew up outside the kingdoms.

But when she reached for the name, she came up empty. It wasn’t there! Why wasn’t it there? Was it not in the real books? Had she somehow forgotten it?

Without the name, she couldn’t dig any deeper. She picked through everything else she knew, but there wasn’t much more than that. She still didn’t know what had upset Roshil so much. She was back where she started.

“Lapurela.” It was the arcane word for “family”. That name was something she hadn’t had before, but it didn’t tell her why Roshil was upset. She still couldn’t help her friend. Roshil had always tried to help her, even when she didn’t want it. When it was Aonva’s turn to help her, she was useless.

Maybe there’s a reason I’ve never had friends. Maybe I’m not supposed to have friends.

#VolumeOne #MakingFriends