Heat spreads through my whole body, and it feels strange, different from any kind of anger I’ve felt before. It’s as if fire itself courses through my veins—hot and bright and eager to turn everything around me to ashes. I can’t help but wonder if this is yet another side effect of the dragon essence.
“Commander,” I mutter with a slight bow. “Myapologies.”
“What is she even doing here?” one of the Tier Five students asks, waving me away like I’m nothing more than a bothersome fly.
Penn's nostrils flare slightly. “The darkblood has been classified as Tier Five, temporarily. We will tolerate her presence as required. I will instruct her as required.”
“Such an honor, Commander,” I say, the corners of my mouth lifting without warmth.
“Now that we’re all here, I’d like to know how familiar you all are with this hall’s energy shields and the runes used to keep them up,” Penn says, shifting his focus to the entire class.
My gaze wanders while my ears register every word coming out of his obnoxious mouth. Nyssa keeps one eye on thecommander and one eye on me—a justified abundance of caution, if I’m honest.
“The runes are carved into the twenty pillars in this hall,” one student says. “The pillars are made for direct contact.”
“What is direct contact?” Penn asks.
I see the twenty pillars, each as tall as me. Thick and sturdy, with four sides and made of red limestone blocks. I also see the inscriptions and recognize the old dragon language. It’s not a language I can read yet, but the runes now look familiar.
“Each pillar requires the life force of a dragon to generate the force field required for a sparring session,” another student says.
“Sparring session?” I whisper.
Nyssa leans in. “The dampening runes you saw outside are meant to keep the spells from becoming deadly,” she mumbles. “The force fields are a separate deal, and they’re meant to absorb the physical shock of dragon blows and dragon fire. That way, we don’t tear the school down with every sparring session.”
“We are dragons,” Commander Penn says, looking right at me. “We may live down here in human form, but we are compelled to take great care of our true form as well. We may not have the skies anymore, but we are still formidable killers. It’s a skill that requires practice. Violence. Fighting.”
“Dragons fighting dragons,” I reply.
“It keeps the blood flowing,” he shoots back with a smirk. “And it develops important reflexes for situations both on the ground and high in the air.”
High in the air? It’s not like you can go that high…I refrain from releasing that snark.
“We require sparring sessions to develop our short-range muscles,” Nyssa adds. “Pouncing. Dodging. Sliding. Then there’s the short flight aspect. Sprints. Taking off. Landing and immediately jumping into any sort of battle. Defense. Offense. For all of this, we need space, and the training hall is limited, which can lead to unintended destruction.”
“Very good, Tier 4. I’ll be sorry to see you leave us with thedarkblood at the end of the day,” Penn says. “Now, I need twenty volunteers to power up the pillars.”
I study the pillars, wondering about their mechanics. “What kind of energy drain are we talking about here?”
Penn's lip curls slightly. “Nothing that would incapacitate a dragon. But it requires absolute concentration. One lapse in focus and the shield falters. If that happens during combat...”
My mind flashes to the ceiling collapsing, bodies crushed beneath stone. No dampening rune could save us from that kind of physics.
“So there's an element of danger to your training methods,” I say, aiming for casual despite the tension crackling between us.
Penn's eyes narrow. “Speaking of danger, congratulations, darkblood. You've just volunteered to be pillar one. Tier Four, you're two.” He raises his voice to the others. “I need eighteen more volunteers. Now!”
One by one, more recruits raise wary hands to join the exercise, while I measure my breaths and try to figure a way out of this. I thought he’d bench me. Draethys continues to surprise.
I follow Nyssa’s lead as we walk along the edge of the combat arena, where the pillars are mounted. I take the first, and she takes the next, a few yards to my right. The others assume their positions as well, snickering as they pass me by. A young brunette with bronze eyes deliberately bumps into my shoulder, and I somehow swallow the curse rising in my throat. Perhaps I'm learning patience after all.
“All twenty in position?” Penn calls out, taking his place on the north end of the combat arena, from where he’s got a view of all of us. In the meantime, I take a moment to analyze the runes on my pillar. On my side, there’s an opening carved into the stone, and I can see a smoky handprint inside. “For those of you who don’t know the drill, you need to stick your hand in there.”
“Why?” I ask.
“The pillars need physical contact to be activated. The runes take slivers of your essence which will replenish by morning,naturally. But your mental concentration is essential here. You will feel the slivers leaving your body, and you will let your train of thought follow. The spell itself will do the rest. Simply remain focused on what you feel leaving your body.”
“You mean besides my dignity for having to do this?” I murmur.
