Rakarthen Academy

by Clara Hartley

  I looked at Kaji. “Flower Trials? Have you heard of that?”

  Kaji shook his head.

  I raised my hand. I was always up for competition. “Where is the well?”

  The teacher turned to me, wearing a scowl just like the rest of the students. “Dragon-kind are not allowed to participate.”

  “Why? Is there a rule against it?”

  “Not written,” Alyxe replied, shaking her head. “But it’s a tradition that dates back thousands of years. Only the fae have joined it, and we intend to keep it that way.”

  “But there is no rule against it,” I said stubbornly.

  “You aren’t invited, princess.”

  “Anybody who drops the flower into the pond gets to join?”

  Alyxe’s looked annoyed. “You will not be allowed to sully tradition. There has never been a dragon-kind who has joined the competition, and there never will be. You’re invited here as a guest, and only that.” She turned around and reached for the weapon rack, shaking her head. I thought I overheard her mutter something about Neremin, the dragon fae king, as she plucked a sword from the rack. “Now,” she began. “Since the academy has asked me to give you aspiring students more details about the trials, that is what I will do. There have been some notable fae amongst those who showed their talents in the trials. General Erutan, our beloved principal, being one of them.”

  I tensed at hearing the principal’s name. Was he not dragon-kind? Based on what he’d told me, he had to be like me, at least partially. Alyxe must not have known about his heritage. Otherwise, she would have been stopped from lying.

  With that, I saw joining the Flower Trials as a rite of passage. If Charmingface had gone through it to win the favor of the fae, why not me as well?

  “Where is this pond?” I asked, raising my hand again.

  The scowl on Alyxe’s face deepened. “You shouldn’t be asking such questions.”

  “Just asking for the sake of the other fae who might have wanted to know,” I lied.

  The other students saw my obvious deception. Hah. I bet they were jealous about their inability to do the same. I stuck my tongue out at the nearest student. He shuffled away, and I mentally congratulated myself on winning our insignificant, petty battle.

  I probably shouldn’t have done that. But according to Kaji, I stepped on toes frequently. I couldn’t help it. With the careless way I acted, I pretty much had “hate me” written on my forehead.

  Alyxe waved off my short-lived attempt at finding answers and moved on with her lesson. Elfaryelle, the tiny dryad who liked to sit on her shoulder, clapped her hands excitedly.

  “It’s just another lesson,” Alyxe said. “I don’t know why you always get so excited.”

  “You’re wonderful when you’re fighting, Lyxe,” Elfaryelle replied in a singsong tone. Her voice reminded me of the rustling of leaves. I thought her voice strangely pleasant. “I don’t remember you showing us your skills in the forest.”

  “You don’t remember most of the things that happened in the forest.”

  “The magic helps my memory come back every so often. Can you blame me for having died?”

  Alyxe rolled her eyes and proceeded with her teaching. I had no idea what she and Elfaryelle had talked about, but it sounded intriguing. What did the little dryad mean about dying?

  “We went through the arakata swing last week,” Alyxe said, whipping her sword about. She was skilled with it, but I thought I could defeat her if we faced each other in a duel. I had heard a rumor about her need to avoid using magic. I didn’t share the same insecurities in the art and would have no qualms about using it to win. There was something about the way Alyxe moved. It looked like she was dancing. And once she began her movements, she fell into a trance. I still thought of Kael as the best fighter I’d ever known, but Alyxe exuded a passion for battle that was unmistakably charming.

  “This week,” Alyxe continued. “I’ll be teaching you the Bellquaine hook. It’s a move that was invented by my family, so I suppose I’ll have to be more excited in teaching it.” Alyxe leapt into the air. There was no excitement on her face, just serious concentration. She executed a maneuver midair, one that involved her twisting her arm above her head. It looked complicated, but not too difficult. She landed on her feet, reminding me of a cat. “It’s one of the more challenging moves, but with enough practice, you’ll all master it. Do it perfectly ten times, and I’ll pair you up with one of your peers. We’ll finish off with our weekly duels.”

  We fell in line, arranging ourselves neatly in rows so we could practice the move. It reminded me an awful lot of air stance, and so would I master it with ease. I had spent countless hours training to be a warrior, after all, despite everyone telling me that I needed to be a princess and learn courtly ways. The stances taught in physical combat lessons were easy for me to master. I would have asked for more of a challenge, but I faced enough of it with the daily bullying. Who knew how tiring facing unwarranted injustice could be?

  My first few attempts at the Bellquaine hook were shoddy. With the lesson schedules so packed, I didn’t have enough time to train. Plus, my muscle memory from my past training got in my way. I mastered it soon enough, however, all the while thinking about how fun a duel would be. I’d been paired up with a dark fae from past the Bellquaine Bay last week. I recalled how I’d managed to beat him. It was nice to swing my weight around for once after all that bullying.

  I huffed, brushing my hair from my face once I was done. I wasn’t surprised to see the triad lounging on the sidelines of the training ground. Aland had his nose stuck in a book while Nemreth laid his head on Cendri’s shoulder.

  “Good,” Alyxe said, walking up to me when I finished my last, perfect hook. “You’re paired up with Nemreth today. Have fun sparring. And remember—no magic allowed.”

  I whipped my head toward Nemreth. “Him?” I asked.

  “Have a problem? Are you scared, princess?”

  I bit my tongue. He’d humiliated me the last time we fought. I won, eventually, after a stroke of luck. His expression he now wore made it clear that he hadn’t forgotten what happened last time, and that he was eager to return the favor.

  Knock yourself out, I thought, swallowing my nervousness down. I was hoping that whatever worked last time would do so again. Nemreth continued searing my skin with his gaze—a promise that he was going to hurt me. A lot.

  Alyxe brushed past me to inspect another student. “Why are you standing there like that?” she asked. “Hurry up and finish your duel, then maybe I can teach you more techniques. You shouldn’t idle. Make yourself useful.”

  “Um, can I face another opponent?”

  Alyxe halted, giving Nemreth a glance. “Why?” She raised a brow at me. “Nemreth,” she called, spinning back to him. “Go easy on her.”

  Nemreth tilted his head, a twinkle in his green eyes. “Easy, huh? I’ll consider it.”

  Yep. That was a no.

  He drew his golden sword from his scabbard, made an elaborate motion, then strolled toward me, obviously just to taunt me.

  “Ready, princess?” He halted in front of me, the grip on his sword tight. “I realize I hadn’t asked for a round two.”

  Alyxe had her attention mostly focused on another pair of students as she said, “Remember that this is just friendly sparring. I know that both dragon-kind and fae heal quickly, but I still don’t want any broken bones or punched-in faces. All right?”

  Nemreth flashed his teeth at me. It was hardly reassuring. “Duly noted, ma’am.”

  Kaji and the two other members of the triad watched me from the sidelines. They’d already finished with their practice. Why did I get the short end of the stick? I didn’t see Alyxe giving them assignments for duels. Especially not with people who looked eager to skewer them.

  “It was a Challenge of Fate,” I said, feeling the need to explain myself. “I hurt you in the name of self-defense. You weren’t letting up, and—”

  “Oh, I kn
ow.” Nemreth ran his tongue over his top row of teeth. “Doesn’t mean that the situation wasn’t utter skatte.”

  I’d learned that the dragon fae cursed with the word skatte. It was an insult of some sort, related to a smelly bug.

  I tried to contain my frustration. How had I dealt with all this for a month? Charmingface had asked me to take it lying down, but that didn’t seem to be working. “You pushed me into a corner. I took the first chance I got to save myself. And now you’re mad and want to hurt me. Your resentment shouldn’t be directed at me. You should be mad at the Dragon Mother. The old dragons. And gods, do you fae know how to hold a grudge.”

  “Mad? Did I say I was mad, princess?”

  “You don’t say many things. You leave out the important details, and it drives me crazy.” I was speaking through gritted teeth, my blood simmering. I drew my sword, the glass reflecting the sunlight, and aimed it at Nemreth. “You’re not allowed to use magic in Alyxe’s training grounds. Don’t look so smug. I stand a chance.”

  “I didn’t say you didn’t.”

  “Again with that!” I thrust myself at him, not caring to hear what else he had to say. It was always best to take your opponent by surprise. Nemreth parried my attack. He swung his sword toward my legs, and I jumped so that the glass of his blade missed my calves. I growled. Vaguely, Kael’s reminders that I stay more levelheaded went through my mind, but I was controlled by my emotions, and they soon got the better of me.

  “You know the moves,” Nemreth said, leaning backward so the tip of my sword barely missed his neck. “But you lack the honed concentration of a master.”

  “Don’t tell me how to fight.”

  “It’s a friendly duel, isn’t it?” Nemreth grabbed my wrist, pulling me toward him. He thrust his arm up, hitting my ribcage.

  That. Was. Painful.

  I groaned, took a couple steps backward, and refocused on Nemreth. My first instinct was to see to my pain, but doing so would keep me distracted, and Nemreth would have another opening. I quickly adopted iron stance, lifting my sword to ready myself.

  Nemreth dragged his blade across the dirt-covered ground. He paced slowly, his gaze trained on me, like a predator. I didn’t cower despite the shocking color of his eyes. The sharpness of his features made him look villainous. “You know what I don’t like, princess?”

  He spoke in such a chilling way that I immediately put my guard up. I shifted my foot, pressing it harder into the ground. Shrugging, I answered, “Me. You’ve made that plenty clear.”

  He gave a low chuckle. “Oh, no. I don’t have hatred for you, just love for Cendri. I stand by him no matter what. I hope you understand. He has good reasons for hating your kind.”

  “Then what?” I asked. Nemreth was too calm. His movements too calculated. I kept wondering when he might spring his next attack on me.

  “I don’t like the way I feel about you,” he said. “I really like you. I’m drawn to you. It’s an odd sensation.”

  “What?”

  “Hm. It seems my confession has taken you by surprise.”

  “You sound crazy.”

  Why would he be scaring me, hurting me, if he liked me? People just didn’t do that to someone they liked.

  “And why do you think that?” Nemreth said. “You don’t believe that you’re someone deserving of my affection?”

  “Because of your actions,” I replied. Nemreth took a step closer to me, and I inched back. He glanced at my mouth, almost as if he was thinking of kissing me. I must be imagining things. I’d never kissed anyone in my life. Not properly, anyway. Having four hidrae fathers who could burn down villages any time they wanted to scared all my potential partners away. “Your actions don’t add up.”

  “I contradict myself often. It’s not uncommon for hearts to be pulled in different directions.”

  “You’re talking too much,” I said. And I went for him. I closed the distance between us, tensing my right arm so I might swing my sword. Nemreth grabbed my arm before I could even finish my attack. And then he did the unthinkable.

  He pulled me into an embrace.

  Shock filled my mind, and it was like I forgot how to breathe. His minty scent surrounded me. He held me against his hard body, and abruptly, I forgot about my hatred. It wasn’t the attraction. It was his sudden change in demeanor. Why hold me like that? We were supposed to be enemies. I’d adjusted to the notion that Nemreth would only hurt me and nothing more.

  So, when he flattened his palm on my back in a tender motion, I didn’t know what to think. His actions gave me whiplash.

  I blinked past my initial stupor. He was leaving himself vulnerable to me. This was the best time for me to make my move. I readied to head-butt his chin, so as to loosen his grip on me.

  Nemreth acted faster than I did, however, loosening his grip so that he might hold me from behind, instead. He kept me in a chokehold. How was he this strong? I was one of the strongest dragon-kind, and was used to winning silly arm-wrestling matches with all the evaradraes I picked fights with.

  “You’re a confusing little thing,” Nemreth said, his breath tickling my ear. My stomach sank. Why did I have this sense that he was about to do something terrible?

  “Call it,” I heard Kaji say behind me. “Nemreth wins. I don’t think Ly can do anything from that position.”

  But Nemreth wasn’t going to let me go that easily. He hadn’t made me suffer enough.

  Quickly, he grabbed a chunk of my hair and chopped it off with his sword. My eyes widened as I felt strands of my hair falling all around me.

  “What… what did you do…?” I asked. It had taken years to grow my hair out. The pain of loss gripped me.

  “A favor,” Nemreth replied coolly. “Doesn’t your hair get in the way sometimes?”

  “That was not yours to take!”

  “It’s just hair—”

  I flung myself at him, rage boiling over. All I saw was red. I used all the moves I knew I was best at. What enraged me was that he countered all my attacks easily. It must have been the anger. It made me careless. It weakened me. I must have left a thousand openings for him to take. From the smirk on his face, I knew he was toying with me. I tried hitting him and hitting him until Nemreth swung the butt of his blade at my head.

  And he knocked me out.

  Fifteen

  “Drink up,” Kaji said. “You’re going to get parched if you don’t get enough water.” He handed me a wineskin.

  I pushed it away. “Is it magic water that’s going to help me get my hair back?” It felt so much cooler without it. My neck was exposed. The wind kissed my bare skin, taunting me with the chilliness, a reminder that my hair had been stolen from me. It was like I’d lost a companion, one I didn’t even know I’d miss. It’d be easier to deal with, since long hair did get all over the place, but I did enjoy how black it was, and how it framed my face. I thought I looked prettier with it. With how tomboyish I was, my hair was one of my last vestiges of femininity I held on to.

  “Magic water?” Kaji said. “Has the fairy dust gotten to you?” He paused, then continued, “Yes, yes this is magic water.”

  I lifted a brow. “Mhm. Why don’t I believe you?”

  “Because you obviously have some trust issues from what those three guys have been doing to you.”

  I screwed my nose up.

  Kaji shoved the wineskin in my face again. “Come on. Drink up. You don’t want to get dehydrated.”

  “I’m a hidrae. We don’t get dehydrated.”

  “Stop being a stubborn baelbeast.”

  I sighed. It seemed like the only way to get Kaji to stop nagging at me was to accept his offer, and so I snatched the wineskin and took a swig. “For someone who likes to act like he doesn’t care half the time,” I muttered, “you can really be a bother.”

  Kaji made small gestures with his fingertips. He projected little images with his fire again. Horses. He loved the little displays of horses he summoned. “Maybe that’s my plan. I’m
just trying to get on your nerves by caring too much.”

  I snorted, capping the wineskin and placing it by my feet. “I highly doubt so.”

  “I could simply be very good at deception.”

  I withheld an eye-roll. Kaji’s jokes usually weren’t this bland. My guess was that he was trying to cheer me up, but he wasn’t doing a very good job of it. “Sure. Your plan is working fantastically.”

  He projected a horse that danced around me. It was pretty, but it did little to ease my sour mood.

  I was lying in Mayhem’s fur. It was comfortable. Light to the touch. The beds in the barracks, despite the upgrade, just didn’t feel as welcoming as Mayhem’s fur. Before coming to Cardell, I’d sought out challenges, but I liked the serene spot we’d chosen. It was filled with peace and quiet, and close to the gates of the academy. Few students came here, and the quietness attracted more flickerflies and allowed the songs of the cicadas to float by more clearly.

  The quietness also allowed the memories from the last fight to play in my mind more vividly.

  I was disgusted with myself.

  Kael had told me countless times to not let myself get distracted. To not be consumed by emotions. With that fight, I’d thrown all of his advice out the window, and did everything I shouldn’t have. I couldn’t just blame the students for the humiliation I sensed. I felt like the fault lay on my own shoulders, and that ate me up from the inside.

  Kaji sat next to me, a couple feet away from Mayhem. He folded his legs and pinned me with a serious expression. I couldn’t take him seriously. “Before you tell me the secrets of the drae lands and whatnot,” I said, “you might want to wipe your mouth first.”

  He scowled. I passed him a napkin, and Kaji tore it from my grasp. He wiped his mouth roughly, then leaned forward. “Are you going back to Constanria after this?”

  “What?”

  “Going home. You don’t deserve to be treated like this, Ly. The people here obviously don’t want you around. You don’t have to stay.”

  “No.”

  Kaji sighed, brushing a hand through his red hair. “Why?”