What if she had been killed too?
My mouth had grown bitter, nausea bubbling in my throat. Everything I believed was coming undone at the seams.
My father would’ve been Headmaster if he was still alive.
The image of Headmaster Archer having Janshaik chained and his dragon murdered were seared into my mind. I could still hear his poisonous voice in my head, murmuring the threat he had whispered to me on that very day.
Surely, my father wouldn’t have been that kind of leader. Then, why would they have him killed? Wouldn’t it be better to have someone who actually cared about the cadets leading the Academy? My brain hurt.
Ignimitra curled up around me, tucking me away in the fold of her huge body. I felt her warm tongue on the side of my face, gentle. Her warmth did wonders for the ice chilling my insides.
I needed to find out more.
Avek had promised me help, but at a risk.
Now, I was ready to take the plunge.
Our classes seemed to move in slow motion. Or maybe, it was my mind that was moving too fast. Luckily, the classes we had that day were ones that Ignimitra and I were good at—archery, formation flying and aerial arithmetic. Not wanting to risk Irikai and Solra’s suspicion, I pretended to be as calm as I could. It was too much to share right now, I could tell them when there was something worth telling.
That evening, I had supper alone—Irikai and Solra went for an afternoon flight together—then set out to find Avek.
I turned to my oldest friend on the mountain, Betheka.
Apparently, she knew Avek well. Nurik often showed up sick from eating the delicious but poisonous mulberry bush that grew near his cave. Armed with a District Pass signed by Betheka, I ventured up to the Administrative District. I found Avek’s cottage just where she said it would be. Nurik was slumbering in the backyard, confirming that Avek was home.
I was frozen in my soles.
Showing up at his house unannounced wasn’t something I’d do on a regular day. He had made an offer to help me, and I needed that help more than ever. But what if his offer was just an offer, like when Solra offered you some of her food at breakfast? I knew not to take it because she didn’t really mean it.
What if I was making a terrible mistake? He was my superior. This could turn out badly for me—he was my superior officer. I was still thinking when the door flung open
“How long do you plan on standing there?” Avek said.
In all this, I never once considered how he would look.
His hair was wet and stringy, the droplets of water glistening in the orange sun. A wool robe was wrapped about him, a ripple of wet skin visible above the neckline.
My head was about to explode.
I couldn’t find my voice, only felt my cheeks, no, my whole body getting hot.
“Kaos?”
Focus.
“Uh, er,” I cleared my throat. “It’s a bit private, can I come in?”
He smiled, nodding.
Avek’s house was grand. Cut stone walls the color of storm clouds overlooked shiny slate marble floors. The sitting room he led me to brought the outdoors in. The centerpiece was a large desert cactus, the breed I recognized from my mother’s garden back home. Bamboo chairs covered with animal skins formed a semi-circle around it, facing the huge windows looking out to the backyard.
“I’ll be back.” He disappeared into the hall.
I sank into one of the seats.
His house seemed bare despite the grandeur. There were no pictures, no trinkets, no clutter. All that personalized the space was a painting of the ocean. It was serene, with so many shades of blue. I was gawking at it when he returned.
Avek was dry and appropriately dressed, this time in a tunic and leather pants. A blue stone dazzled around his neck, held by a blue twine strap. That was new.
“A gift from my mother,” He commented, noticing my line of sight. “For good luck at the Academy.”
His explanation was a salve I hadn’t known I needed, for a knot untwisted in my stomach at his words. He joined me on the loveseat.
“Nice of you to pay me a visit,” He smelled of fresh soap and eucalyptus. The urge to smell him more was strong, but I resisted.
I chuckled nervously. “It’s not much of a social call.”
He wrinkled an eyebrow.
“The help you offered. I need it.”
Realization flashed across his face.
“Why the urgency?”
I sucked in a breath. If anyone would believe me, it would be him.
“I don’t think my father’s death was an accident. He knew he was going to be killed.”
The words sounded foreign, strange. The moment they left my mouth, I wanted to recall them, realization burning the back of my neck.
Avek didn’t seem at all surprised.
“You’re sure of this?” His stare was hard.
“Completely,” I nodded. “I need to know how he died.”
He sighed, leaning back on the sofa. From this angle his eyes looked gray, like reedy pools of water.
“If there’s any information available on the circumstances of his death, I know where they would keep it,” He began, his voice suddenly a whisper. “The Dragon Guard keeps their important information in the Records Hall on the side of the mountain. I’ve been there a few times for more intensive research.”
“Take me there.” My mind was made up.
Avek’s nose crinkled.
“If we’re caught, we will be killed,” he said. “We’d be breaking nearly every law in the book.”
My heart started to race.
“It doesn’t matter,” I began, searching his eyes. “If I don’t take this risk, I’ll never be able to live with myself.”
He gave me a lop-sided grin.
“Then let’s do it,” he said. “Wear your cadet uniform, and meet me by the cliff where you practice formation flying tonight, when the moon is at its highest point. We’ll fly together on Nurik.”
I nodded firmly, and he squeezed the top of my arm. That was when I realized that his hand had been around my shoulders the entire time.
AVEK WAS TRUE TO HIS word and arrived on time.
Despite his size, Nurik landed almost noiselessly in the night. Avek was dressed in a black combat uniform, lending him a certain stealth in the darkness. I hoped my brown uniform blended in similarly.
He helped me up with an outstretched hand, and we slipped wordlessly into the night.
Despite the balm of the night, I felt cold.
“Thank you for doing this,” I whispered.
Nurik’s saddle was smaller than I remembered, barely having enough space for the two of us. I had to hold on to Avek’s torso.
He didn’t reply to me at first.
“I know what it’s like,” he said softly, his words almost swallowed by the sound of the wind rushing past us. “The Dragon Guard never gives answers. You have to risk your life to find them yourself.”
Avek’s words resonated with me.
That must’ve been why my father asked me to be careful. It was why Avek discouraged me from asking questions when we first met. We were going up against something much bigger than just the two of us. I had witnessed what could happen if you defied the Guard.
“Is that why you’re helping me?”
Avek turned his head, looking at me out of the corner of his eye. He cracked a smile.
“I’m helping you because I don’t want you to get killed,” he said.
It felt like he had left much unsaid, but I didn’t press.
“Thank you, Avek,” The sappiness of the moment made my insides feel like jelly. “How did you learn to be so fearless?”
He had more on the line than me. He had accompanied the Headmaster to my village for what was supposed to be a high-level extraction mission. Dragon Guard rank wasn’t as easy to tell as Royal Militia, but I imagined that he was high up.
Avek chuckled, smiling.
“I didn’t l
earn,” He said. “It was a matter of survival for me.”
He paused, heaving a sigh.
“Succeeding here was the only choice I had. My only way to give my mother the life she deserved.”
I understood him. His story reminded me of Solra’s, of Irikai’s, of my own.
“She must be proud of you.”
“She was.” His lips pressed into a hard line. “She died a week after I graduated. I think she had been holding on just for me.”
My heart hurt, as if it had been pricked by a million cacti.
The pain of losing a parent fractured your world. It made you helpless. I pictured Avek receiving the news—the guilt of not spending more time with his mother and the pain of not being able to help her after his immense sacrifice must have been hard to bear.
On my worst nights, it felt like I was reliving the day I learned of my father’s death.
“The pain doesn’t go away,” I said. “You don’t even really get used to it. It’s like, after a while it becomes a part of you.” I sighed. “My father died seven years ago, and I still feel like it happened yesterday. I lost my mother the same day too. My memories of them have been fading ever since then, but the pain...it never leaves.”
His jaw clenched.
“That’s why this is so important to you,” He murmured.
“If it turns out that his death wasn’t an accident, then at least I’d have some closure. I’d be able to make peace with it. I could find out what exactly happened to my mother. I could—”
“Get revenge,” He cut me off.
I paused. That had never crossed my mind.
But it didn’t seem far off. If someone had killed my father, they would have to pay. It was only right.
“I hope you like what you find,” he said.
On Avek’s intelligence, we circled the records hall before landing to check for signs of life. It wasn’t always heavily guarded, only during specific parts of the night. By his calculation we had two hours until someone showed up, which I imagined would have been enough time to do our digging.
The records hall was perched on the side of a cliff, with a courtyard big enough for three or four dragons. An impressive tower stretched up into the sky, shining down a huge ray of light.
Avek had Nurik land briefly for us to alight, then sent him off to a nearby cave.
“How will he know when we’re ready?” I asked. “Wouldn’t calling him attract attention?”
“We’re fusion bonded. He’ll know,” he said quickly, waving a hand. “Kaos, I need you to clear your mind. Save your questions. We have only one goal now, everything else is unimportant.”
His aura had darkened to the point where it felt wrong to even argue with him. I had many questions—like, what the hell is a fusion bond?—but I shelved them. If we were successful tonight, we could talk about it whenever.
This was like my mission into the Forbidden Ruins.
If I could have pulled that off, this would be easy. I traced the hilt of the blade strapped to my thigh.
Wordlessly, Avek instructed me to ready my sword, and the two of us slinked off towards the building. We stuck to the shadows, hugging the walls of the courtyard. My heart was loud in my ears, my legs weightless.
When we got to the double height iron doors, Avek motioned that they were locked and instead pointed to the open windows above us.
That would be our entry point.
Jumping from wall to wall, he scaled the side of the building until he was on eye level with the window. He beckoned for me to follow.
Returning my sword to its sheath, I ran to get some momentum then started my own zig-zag ascent. I was used to hopping between trees in the forest back home, but this put a different kind of strain on my thighs and ankles.
When I made it to the window, he grabbed my hand to pull me in. The catwalk beneath us creaked as we landed. I was thankful for the few moments to catch my breath.
There was a huge drop below us.
Avek rustled in his pack, then a flame flickered to life.
He held a stick of something carob-colored. The flame was lit, but didn’t seem to be eating away at the stick.
“Light sticks coated in a slow-burning potion,” He whispered. He produced another, lit it from his flame and handed it to me.
With the light sticks in hand, we started our descent. We only had to climb down a ladder. We found ourselves in the middle of a hall that put the library to shame.
The floors reflected back the light, a crest that I didn’t recognize in the middle of each tile. Huge wooden shelves stretched up into the darkness, and the spice of paper and wax assaulted my nostrils. The room felt untouched, like the truth should be.
I was sure that what I was looking for was here.
We walked through a maze of bookshelves, Avek leading the way. Our footfalls, though light, echoed in the room. All I could see was the back of his head and his broad shoulders, but it was enough to make me feel safe. There were thousands of records here, but I was with one of the few soldiers who knew this hall well.
Finally, we stopped in front of a grand bookshelf.
“Your father’s name is Kressin, like yours?”
I nodded, and he stretched up to survey the books that were too tall for me to look at.
“I think it’s on your shelf,” he said.
Doing the same, I walked along the shelf, holding the light stick to the spines of the books. I held my breath. At the end of the row I saw it—Kressin, Branton.
“It’s here,” I said, my throat dry.
Avek took my light stick, moving to tower over me as I took the book from the shelf. It was heavy, the dust sticking to my fingertips. My heart swelled at the thought—a book this big definitely meant that there was a lot here. Yet, when I opened it my mouth fell open.
The pages were blank.
I skipped ferociously.
More blank pages.
Blank, blank, blank.
“What the hell?” I looked up at Avek, my eyes burning.
His eyes were gentle, his expression as troubled as I was—brows knitted, jaw slack.
“Maybe look through it again? Slower?” He offered.
Licking my finger, I paged through the book again.
Still nothing.
“Why would they have a blank book here? Some sort of sick joke?”
At that moment Avek looked like he had been struck by lightning. “Wait, hold this.”
He gave me a light stick; I gave him the book. He flipped to the first page, and held the light stick up to the paper.
Suddenly, pale letters began to appear on the page.
“We learned about this in second year. A concealment technique,” he said. “My first time seeing it.”
“Concealment?” I huffed. “We’re in Pyralis, why would they need to hide this.”
He shrugged. “This information is probably highly classified. What rank was your father?”
I didn’t really know. They taught us little about rank outside of the fact that as cadets, we were at the bottom of the barrel.
“I don’t know...” I chewed my lip. “He was about to become Headmaster when he died, if that helps.”
Avek’s face paled.
“He was an Aerial Command Master then,” his voice was low. “That’s probably why it’s encrypted like this.”
First, my father’s letter. Then, this. This whole situation was shrouded in secrets, it made my stomach lurch. Secrets begot more secrets, and it was a slippery slope.
“Go on, read it.”
He handed me the book.
The nervous thrumming returned when I took it, and with trembling fingers I started to decode the information.
My eyes burned as I read.
Branton Kressin had been raised by a Dragon Guard father. He grew up Deftero, just like I had been. He had bonded with Jairyn in a storm, having rescued him from a tidal wave.
There were details of how he met my mother, Kat, at his Dragon
Guard graduation. She was the daughter of a leather worker who lived in the Artisan District. I even found a snippet about my birth.
These pages held the entirety of my father’s life. His Finishing School and Placement School education. His graduation from the Academy. Logs from the hundreds of missions he had led. Then, I encountered the page that made the tears fall.
His death log.
I didn’t even trust myself to breathe.
He had been leading an intelligence mission that took them deep into Hydralia, doing reconnaissance along its border with one of our enemies, Astraphotis. They were ambushed by enemy soldiers, who shot them down over the Great Pyralian Sea. Everyone died, except for one soldier and his dragon.
The report wasn’t more than a few sentences.
A hot pain blossomed in my head—my father’s life was reduced to two paragraphs. The pain crested when I noticed who the officer to submit the report was.
Aerial Command Lieutenant Vulcan Archer.
The Headmaster.
I was about to bring it to Avek’s attention, when his eyes snapped to mine in panic.
“Someone’s coming,” he said hurriedly, grabbing the book from my hands and carefully stowing it away in the bookshelf.
I couldn’t understand words anymore.
“What?” I asked.
He grabbed my wrist and started running.
“Nurik’s sensed something,” he said in a harsh whisper.
My confusion deepened.
A dull ache emanated from deep in my brain, like I was trying to process too many things at once. The Headmaster had been a part of the ill-fated mission that killed my father and was conveniently the only one to survive. Avek was this far away from Nurik, yet he could tell that he had sensed something.
Nothing made sense.
We retraced our steps through the maze of bookshelves, Avek pulling me along at a breakneck pace. We went up the ladder, but instead of going through the window, he led me along the catwalk.
The wooden boards screamed as we ran.
“Extinguish your light stick.” He held his up for me to see. “Like this,” he spat at the flame and it smoldered.
Dragon Academy Page 13