Cracked Open: The Dragon Born Academy

by T L Christianson

  It was a Balaur student planner, and inside the first page was a neatly folded schedule and school map.

  "Here—look," her pink polished acrylic nail tapped one of the highlighted classrooms. "Someone has even marked all of your classes."

  "Oh, wow. That's a lot of classes," I laughed.

  She squeezed my arm. "No, it looks normal, and look, you have a study hall and weekly meeting with the school counselor." Her gaze met mine, and she sighed, "Do you need anything else? I don't mind, but you need to ask."

  Slipping on my shoes and coat, I shouldered the backpack. Standing in the open doorway, I glanced back at my roommate. "Thanks, I will if I do."

  She smiled back at me before applying her mascara. "See you at breakfast. I usually sit at the far-left table near the back—those on the left are Drake tables. You don't have to sit at a Drake table, but, well, most of us do."

  I glanced down at the new shoes I wore. They were black Mary-Jane's with a low heel. "I'm not going to breakfast. I don't think I could eat anyway. I'm going to go find all my classes ahead of time."

  "Okay, see you later."

  When my eyes found Becca again in the mirror, she was curling her bangs with a curling iron.

  I closed the door quietly and made my way down the hallway. My stomach turned and rumbled—not from hunger but worry.

  Walking the hallways in Drake House, I felt eyes on me, heard a few hellos, but my focus was on getting to the school building, Wyvern Hall.

  When I stepped out through the vestibule and into the cold, the frigid air seemed to seize my lungs. The wind, smelling of pine trees and reminding me of Ashe, swirled around me, making my ponytail whip at my face.

  I reached out with my mind to feel for my mate the way I had before, but instead of his burning warmth and intensity, I felt nothing.

  Aaraeth was quiet, but I still felt her presence. Not like last night when she'd flown into the sky and away from me. The loss of being separated had been uncomfortable.

  As I walked, I nodded to myself. My dad would come for me, and when he did, then things would go back to normal.

  Stepping out of the shadow of Drake House, the quad was quiet and dark. The sun had risen in the distance but had yet to crest the trees on the horizon.

  All my life, I'd been told how stupid school was and how mean kids were, but in my heart, I'd always wanted to go to school—any school. I pictured living in a little house with a mom and my dad. I'd have a mom who would walk me to the bus stop holding her coffee. Then she'd smile and chat with the other parents before waving me away.

  Then as I got older, instead of bus rides and a coffee toting mom, I wanted sleepovers and a boyfriend.

  I sighed, my breath making a puff of white vapor as it left my mouth.

  Dad and I never stayed in one place long enough for me to form any real attachments. I touched my lips and thought of my first kiss. Roman. He'd been a college student doing an internship. We had a brief flirtation that led to stolen kisses in the makeshift lab set up in a field tent.

  Then he found out I was only fifteen at the time.

  The guy freaked out and treated me like a leper from that point on.

  I sniffed and pulled open the door to the Main Hall, thinking of Roman. He'd been nineteen.

  The age difference brought me back around to Ashe and his wary expression.

  The hesitation and... not quite shame, but maybe it was guilt that I felt from him.

  In the eyes of the world, I was still a child. But for most of my life, I'd been treated as an equal and partner by my dad. I took care of him, and he did the same.

  And now I'd abandoned him.

  I left him in a foreign hospital all alone.

  He might die, and I'd be here.

  I bit my bottom lip as waves of anger and helplessness washed over me.

  I was a terrible person. Here I was thinking about guys and pitying myself while my dad fought for his life thousands of miles away.

  There's nothing you can do. I told myself. It's out of your control.

  "Is it, though?" I spoke the words aloud and swallowed hard.

  Was I genuinely helpless? Did I really, honestly, believe that?

  I wasn't in a cage. I wasn't locked up.

  I needed to leave, and before I could do that, I needed a plan.

  But I couldn't give myself away. I had to at least appear to try to adapt.

  But Ashe… My mind seemed to whisper.

  I sucked in a shaky breath — one step at a time.

  Reaching Wyvern Hall, I yanked on the door, and it opened with a slight creak. Checking the map, I made my way to one of the yellow highlighted classrooms on the first floor. My new shoes made quiet, taps on the worn hardwood floor.

  This building was old, but well maintained. The turn of the century architecture and furniture conjured up women in long dresses and men with top hats and canes.

  The lights were off, but sparse emergency illuminations guided my way. The sun had crested the trees, shining yellow light into the building with slanted beams that trickled through classroom windows and transoms.

  When I arrived at the classroom, I tried the door, but it was locked. Gazing around, I searched for some kind of landmark to remember this specific room by. A paper covered message board hung next to the door and I marked it in my memory.

  Checking the map, I searched out another class—literature. It was on the third floor with Ms. Popov. Trudging through the building, I found the English section. All the doors were open, allowing warm puddles of sunshine to spill into the hallway.

  I peered inside and was greeted with a typical classroom setting. All the desks faced a large chalkboard that spanned the room. The teacher's desk sat in one of the front corners surrounded by plants, knickknacks, and baskets full of papers.

  But my favorite part was the windows that reached all the way to the ceiling giving an unobstructed view of the forest. The tall pines outside beckoned to me, and I set my backpack down on the foot-wide ledge below the glass. The dense green forest began about ten meters from the building.

  I laid my hand against the window, and when I pulled it away, my handprint began fading from the surface.

  Mixed emotions swirled inside me, and I turned to gaze around the room. On the other side of the room were rows and rows of books. I spotted Of Mice and Men, Pride and Prejudice, and a few others that I didn't recognize.

  When I felt like I'd taken the measure of the place, I slid out my cell phone. Opening up my email, I found nothing—again.

  The microphone icon sparked an idea. First, I set my VPN to Vietnam and then searched for the hospital my dad was in.

  Biting my lip, I dialed the number using the call feature in my email.

  I hesitated when the call was answered in Vietnamese.

  "Hi, hello. Do you speak English?" I asked breathlessly.

  A long pause hung over the line until a new person answered. "Yes. Hello?"

  "I'm looking for George Miller. He's an English man, blond hair, blue eyes?" I breathed, trying to speak clearly.

  "Ahh, yes."

  "…wait! Can I talk to him?" I asked, but the man had already placed me on hold.

  "Hello?" A woman's soft voice came onto the line. "You are looking for George Miller?"

  "Yes, I'm his daughter. Is he doing better? Can I talk to him?"

  "He is still sedated. You may come in and visit."

  "I can't. I' m... I… Can I give you my email or my phone number to text me or call me with updates?"

  She hummed a reply, and I very carefully gave her my email.

  "When will he wake up? Will he wake up?"

  "He has swelling in the brain. When the swelling goes away, we will wake him up to check damage…"

  I cut her off, "damage?"

  She hummed her reply, "Mmmm. Yes. Hopefully, he will be fine, but he had a lot of trauma to his brain. Head injuries can only be assessed when patient wake up."

  "But he has brain activity,
right?" I breathed.

  "Yes. Brain activity is normal."

  After getting a promise to contact me with updates, I said goodbye and ended the call.

  Worry mixed with guilt washed over me again.

  Then outside the window, something caught my attention. Branches of the towering pines swayed in the breeze, and I thought I saw a shimmer of something black.

  Aaraeth perked up and slid over my skin. Eondian is nearby.

  Searching the trees, I spotted the giant black dragon looming in the shadows below.

  I reached out to the beast and to Ashe with my mind. A shiver of fear ran through me at the memory of the dragon from the cave.

  You fear Eondian? My own dragon asked.

  I'm not sure, I told her.

  Hmmm… She murmured.

  The large shape below disappeared, and I sat there in silence, staring out into the forest. My back ached, and I stretched, reaching my arms into the air.

  Then, a tug seemed to pull at something deep inside me, and I straightened. It felt like something was stretching outward... extending... unfolding. My heart raced, and I let out a gasp... not quite pain but definitely the opposite of pleasure.

  Aaraeth slipped my control over her, sliding off my skin to appear beside me. She gazed out the window, her long form pushing the nearby desks out of order and her tail knocking several books off the window sill.

  "Aaraeth?" I reached out to run a hand over her beautiful turquoise scales before gasping for breath as the invisible cord tugged painfully at my chest. "Oh my god! Ashe is leaving… isn't he? Aaraeth? Do you feel that?" I stumbled over the words.

  Yes. They are leaving. She told me angrily, her claw scratching at the window.

  I turned toward her, "What does this mean? Are they leaving for good? For how long? Why?"

  Snorting, her breath left a layer of vapor on the window. Sydney, you make me weary. I do not know these human things.

  I blew out my own exasperated sigh.

  Glancing at my phone, I connected to the wifi and texted the number Ashe gave me.

  There was no response, and I paced the small area Aaraeth had cleared with her body and tail, not caring that she was making even more of a mess around us.

  Ashe's number kept going directly to voicemail. I tried it again and then twice more, the same.

  Finally, after a potted plant fell from its perch, I looked up at my dragon. "Will you knock it off! Get back into your tattoo or whatever! I don't need more problems to clean up!"

  As soon as the words slipped out, I regretted my tone.

  Fear, pain, and confusion filled me. I was lashing out, and Aaraeth didn't deserve my harsh words.

  The dragon stood still, her multifaceted eyes gleaming in the dim light of the morning.

  "I'm sorry," I told her, shaking my head and closing the distance between us. Carefully reaching out, my fingers stroked the ridges above her eyes.

  Sydney, there is a simple solution. We must go after them.

  I bit my lip and sank down into the nearest upright chair, defeat filled me. "We can't.”

  9

  The light shimmered off Aaraeth as she turned her head from the windows.

  Why not?

  “Why not what?”

  Go after them.

  I scoffed. “Go after them? We can’t. We’re in the middle of nowhere. Look around. It’s winter! We’d freeze to death! I have no car, nothing.”

  Helplessness filled me, and my gaze settled on a crack in the glossy wood floor.

  I’m never stranded. I can fly. She sniffed, seeming to gaze away at a sound I hadn’t heard.

  “Yeah? But I can’t…” my voice trailed off as I assessed Aaraeth’s size.

  Could I ride you?

  Her eyes swirled blue as we considered my question.

  “Do people ride their dragons?” I asked, barely frowning.

  Her eye ridges raised, and she seemed to shrug. I don’t know. I’ve only known the dragon place where dragons are. People do not go into our world.

  I hesitated, the dragon place? I had no time to consider that new piece of information.

  Sucking in a breath, I held it for several moments, thinking.

  When I came to a decision, I spoke, “Let’s try to be diplomatic first. I need to find the Headmistress’ office and talk to her.” I held my hands out to my dragon as if giving her an opportunity to dive back onto my skin.

  The dragon gave me an irritated look before rushing me. I gasped as we merged, her form settling around me like a second skin.

  Stumbling backward, I groaned at the mess she’d made. After pushing the desks back into place, I glanced around at what else I would need to fix. Cleaning up after Aaraeth would take too much time, and the thread that bound me to Ashe felt terribly thin and fragile. Setting a book to place it back on the shelf, my hand shook because of the tension. I didn’t have time for this, so I left the rest of the books on the floor along with the plant and its broken pot.

  Ashe said it was illegal to keep us apart.

  Picking up my backpack, I nearly ran to the Headmistresses office just as the older woman entered. Her knobby fingers slid up and turned on the lights. Pulling me inside, she closed the door behind us.

  Angeven continued around to her side of the desk and pulled out her chair. Sitting, she gazed up at me from under her heavy brows. My breath caught in my throat, and I stood there like a fool trying to force it out.

  “Well, sit down, child,” she told me, impatient with my silence.

  I fell into the chair across from her. “I... Ashe…”

  She tilted her head, watching me. “Mr. Carrick has gone, has he?”

  Pathetically, my eyes filled, and I nodded, moving to perch on the edge of the seat, my elbows on her desk. “How did you know?”

  “Because we spoke last night, and he said he was thinking of leaving.” She pursed her lips, assessing me.

  “No,” I whispered. “He wouldn’t have just left. He told me it was illegal to keep us apart.”

  Her fragile hands enveloped my own in a warm grasp. “It’s not illegal if you choose it, and he chose to do it for both of you.”

  I plucked one of my hands from her strangely tight grasp and pressed it to my chest. “But it hurts. I feel like I’m dying.”

  Tears overflowed the rims of my eyes and trailed down my cheeks.

  Headmistress Angeven sucked in a breath. “New dragons aren’t supposed to mate so young. You and Aaraeth need time to get used to your own bond before sharing it with others.”

  I shook my head, none of this was making any sense. I opened my mouth to protest, but Angeven interjected, “In time, you’ll feel better. However, I can’t allow the two of you to finalize your bond while you’re in my care. You’re so terribly young. It’s simply not done... None of this is usual. There’s going to be a lot to answer for.” She shook her head. “I knew you were too old to have the ritual, and now there are consequences.”

  “Consequences?” I asked.

  She nodded. “Yes. There will be an inquiry. Ashe is most at risk, he’s an adult. He should’ve been able to control Eondian.”

  “It’s not his fault... that’s ridiculous,” I spat out.

  “A mate-bond is unbreakable. Both Ashe and you need to take some time before agreeing to complete it. I should’ve known better than to have had Ashe Carrick help during the ceremony. Dragon-Bonds run in the Carrick family and yours as well.”

  I mopped my tears with the sleeve of my new sweater. “What do you mean?”

  “Prime bonds are in your lineage. Your mother was dragon-bonded, and her parents before her, and their parents before them. Dragon-bonds run in Ashe Carrick’s family as well.” She shook her head. “I shouldn’t have allowed him to be there, but none of us thought... none of us suspected for a moment that…”

  “That his dragon would mate with mine?” I said quietly and sucked in a shaky breath.

  Her gaze lingered on me for several heartbeat
s before she answered, “Not at your age. But Eondian knew Aaraeth and felt her in you. If Eondian hadn’t been here, then you probably wouldn’t have become a Prime.”

  Her gaze weighed down on me, chills ran the length of my arms. I wasn’t supposed to have a dragon. I was too old, and everyone knew it.

  “If I’d been given the ritual at a younger age, would I have gotten Aaraeth?” I asked, my voice small and quiet.

  “No one knows, but it’s believed that a person is destined or not destined to a specific dragon or wyvern.” Her eyes darted between my own and the door as it opened.

  A woman with unremarkable features and slight build ducked her head before mumbling an apology as she began to slip away again. “I’m so sorry Angeven, I had no idea you were with someone.”

  She’s holding something back from you, whispered Aaraeth in my mind.

  The headmistress called out to the little mouse of a woman, “No, no. Come in. Miss Miller was just going to class.” She hesitated before her gaze roamed back to me, “Hurry along now. If you hustle, you won’t be late to first period.”

  Angeven made a shoeing motion as if I were five years old.

  With an irritated expression, I did as she asked. What was she holding back from me?

  In my English classroom, most students were already sitting in desks, chatting. Across the room, someone carefully swept up the debris from the broken pot. I spotted the plant now resting in a plastic coffee container on the window sill.

  All eyes were on me as I approached the teacher sitting at her desk, reading something on her laptop.

  After several ticks of the clock above and she still hadn’t noticed me, I cleared my throat. “Are there assigned seats?”

  Glancing up at me, Ms. Popov blinked as if waking from a dream. “Oh, oh,” she stammered, gazing at me through thick glasses. “You must be Sydney, Celine’s daughter. Yes... I mean, no. There are no assigned seats. Please take any open desk.”

  Wearily I threaded my way to an open seat in the middle of the class and set my backpack down. It was immediately knocked off by the girl sitting in the next chair.