26th day of the season of the sun 2448

The next day, Azena's deep sleep was disturbed by Rendar's formidable roar, the Grand Master's red dragon. It was a sound the young dragon rider had not missed. She muttered a curse and buried her face in her pillow. Her skin itched on contact with the woolen blanket.

- Urghh, Azena complained.

She pushed the blanket over and rolled herself into a ball. Fayne, on the other hand, had risen with an energetic leap. She rushed to the mirror and started brushing her hair as if today was her last chance for love.

Azena glanced in her direction and raised an eyebrow.

- You know, your masters probably won't ask you out on a date.

Fayne paused and tried to ignore the remark.

- You're an idiot sometimes.

- That's part of my charm.

A sly smile appeared on Azena's lips.

- Very funny Azena, growled the brunette.

The herbalist stopped brushing her hair for a moment and stared at Azena.

- Maybe you should get dressed.

The half elf realized she was completely exposed. All she wore were her boxers and a tank top with no bra. Embarrassed, she got up and put on her apprentice uniform. A feeling of comfort and familiarity overcame her. She realized she was finally back in her element.

Away from the shackles of royalty, away from Bayrne, she said to encourage herself.

Meanwhile, Fayne finished getting ready.

- What's your first class?

She walked to the bedroom door.

- Hey, you're not leaving without me, said Azena.

She paused, unsure of herself.

- ... right?

- I'll go with you if we have the same class. Otherwise I'll be late.

- Well... fine...

Azena looked through her papers. Finally, she pulled out a crumpled up parchment.

- I'm in group one. So...

She paused, unsure of what she had just read. She resumed her reading.

- Introduction to Combat! she said in an excited tone.

- I'm in group two. I'm going to Dragon Welfare II class. I'll see you at the break. Try not to kill your classmates.

Without further ado, she set off, leaving behind an Azena who couldn't contain her enthusiasm. The half elf hastily put her books in her bag, put on her leather armor and hung her quiver and longbow on her back. She froze for a moment to get rid of the bitter memories of her battle with Shalith and Serfantor. She went up to the second floor, where classes for fighting and training were given. She followed the corridors illuminated by the dancing flames of the torches, eager to begin her training.

- The library can wait, she thought. Besides, I have to find Serfantor.

She turned a corner and came face to face with a tall blonde woman who was dressed for battle.

- Azena! Ariella exclaimed.

Her serious face quickly lit up with a smile.

- Come, come. The battle room is particularly impressive.

She stopped for a moment to observe her classmate.

- Excellent choice of armor and weapon. That's Mel's craftsmanship, isn't it?

- You know her work well.

Ariella nodded.

- Mother says it's important to know the masters in all trades. It allows you to be resourceful.

She went through the two metal doors and crossed the training room. Inside, several apprentices were waiting, equipped with various armors and weapons. Each had a unique combination of personality and style.

Ariella, brave and strong of character, possessed the athletic body that allowed her to move with ease in her sparkling plate armour. Over it, the academy tabard floated softly to the rhythm of the dragon rider's footsteps. But most impressive was the huge morning star hanging from her back, held by a thick leather harness. She held her helm with her hip and her hand. The helm was engraved on the right side with a very calligraphic and thin V, in the style of a lunar elf. On the left side there was a second V, but it was thicker and clearer, which showed the human preference for legibility.

Ariella was clearly proud of her elven and human heritage. As well as her family, the Valkirel.

- Ummm... who's our master? asked Azena, taking her eyes off the helm.

- Arahich, Ariella replied bitterly.

She guided Azena to a young wood elf who was facing the wall in a corner.

- Azena's here.

The elf was startled and quickly hid what looked like a bottle in the inside pocket of his light tunic. He wore no armor and the archer wondered about his safety in this class, especially with a master like Arahich.

- Stop sneaking up behind me, he asked anxiously.

- I spoke as soon as I arrived, Ariella defended herself after a sigh. Really, stop drinking your tea in the classroom if you don't want to get caught. Arahich should be here any moment.

Teriondil was about to retaliate, but she continued:

- I know, I know. You hate Arahich and the... nectar, let's call it that, calm yourself, she ended in a harsh tone.

The boy frowned slightly and then his face softened. The tea must have begun to take effect.

The only weapon Teriondil had was a small, simple dagger hanging from his belt. His armor was practically normal linen, except for a few hairy additions. The dense fur on his shoulder pads gave him a wild look. He too wore the academy tabard over his clothing.

Both had tied their hair in a tight ponytail. Side by side, Teriondil was more of a rogue type and Ariella a warrior, but Azena knew better. Teriondil was her clumsiest friend. He knew more about the elements and spirituality than the art of subtlety. He would make a poor thief or rogue.

- I'm not comfortable with weapons, Teriondil replied shyly. It is not my expertise.

His voice was low, almost inaudible. He blushed slightly, then a burst of energy brought forward on the rest of the conversation.

- I'll get better at it. I have the support of two fearsome warriors.

The two half-elves chuckled.

- At least we're well balanced, said Ariella. I'm physically stronger, Azena is agile and fast, while you've received many compliments on your expertise in controlling the elements and mana, haven't you?

- I've been glorified, I admit it, said the elf with a sly smile.

Azena took pleasure in teasing her friend. They laughed and, as they had just forgotten all their worries, the doors opened noisily as if they had been pushed open with force.

All eyes were fixed on a man with a curved back, dressed in dark leather armour. He was carrying a dozen daggers at his belt, all deformed or crooked. He lowered his hood and his mutilated face shocked a few apprentices. Azena had seen him before. Vyrius Arahich.

- How can he be a master? Azena asked.

Ariella did not dare to answer; Vyrius had heard the question and turned to them.

- Ah, Miss Kindirah, he whistled in a poisonous tone. Glad to see you again.

The way he pronounced his words sounded like a snake. Azena nodded, simply as a courtesy.

Vyrius waited for a more formal reply. He grew impatient and quickly examined his apprentices. His small dark eyes feverishly analysed them one by one.

- That's a good thing. You all have your armor and weapon.

He walked slowly in front of the lined up apprentices, retracing his steps as he spoke:

- You've faced some simulations of a dangerous situation before, I assume. You've practiced controlling your element, I'm sure you have.

He coughed at the end of his sentence.

- Now...

He stopped suddenly. His voice was suddenly more stable, more powerful.

- ... you're going to face a different kind of dangerous situation.

He said the end of his sentence very slowly.

- The art of combat. It can be a dance, a discipline, a virtue, a resolution. At the end of it all, it's just life. You fight every day without realizing it. It's often subtle, but today it's going to be concrete. When you have to fight for your life, you have to be ready. That's why I'm here.

A hand raised. Vyrius noticed it, but did not let the young apprentice speak.

- The elements are not always at our disposal, and if it is, it is not always the right tactic to use. Using your element or your magic reveals a vital part of who you are. Knowledge is powerful; don't let your enemy know who you are at the wrong time.

To prove his theory, he selected an apprentice who knew his opponent's fighting style. The second apprentice knew nothing of the first. The advantage was clear and the first one triumphed.

The second scenario was Azena versus Ariella. They knew each other quite well in terms of fighting. The duel was a close call, but Ariella eventually pushed Azena back in a corner, making her defenseless, her bow useless in close combat.

By the end of the session, all the apprentices were out of breath. Vyrius, smiling slightly, pulled down his hood, wrapping his face in shadow.

- You may go.

He put away the dagger with which he had performed his demonstrations and disappeared, a dark cloud in his wake.

- Not even an encouragement? Azena lamented.

She picked up her arrows, stripped them of their protective hoods and put them back in her quiver.

- You're improving fast, said Ariella. Your archery is excellent. You won't need much practice to master it.

She removed the arrow that had been stuck in a gap in her plate armour.

- I'm glad for the cap for his arrows or I'll probably be in the infirmary.

Each weapon had been neutralized with magic or a protective cap to ensure that no apprentice would get hurt during the drills. Azena left as quickly as possible.

During her break, she seeked the grey elf Serfantor, a fourth-grade apprentice. She came across him after asking a dozen apprentices where she could find him. He was alone, probably on his way to his next class.

- Serfantor! she called, waving a hand to get his attention.

The gray elf raised an eyebrow. Curiosity took over; he approached Azena. Azena met him halfway.

- Got a minute?

- Yeah, but make it quick. The break's almost over, he said, readjusting his slippery bag.

- Well ummm..., she murmured, so that no one could hear her except the person she was talking to. I know we have a bit of a sensitive history, but is there any way you could help me sneak into the library? Maybe with a little shadow manipulation?

She had a forced smile, the broadest possible.

- Don't you have access to the library? he asked, his face frozen in confusion.

- No. In all honesty, I was banned last year.

- Why couldn't Fayne go there instead of you? Simple solution.

- Because I want to do it myself, she replied, raising her voice.

The rebel realized that Serfantor was right. At that point, she was just being stubborn.

- Just help me, she continued, blushing slightly, unable to admit her weaknesses.

Serfantor took some time to think. He watched the half elf without saying a word.

Azena felt pierced by Serfantor's gray eyes. She didn't expect a positive response. After all, maybe the gray elf still wanted to steal Turion's quill. It was really an embarrassing situation, but she didn't know any other black dragon rider.

- You are a strange person, Serfantor said. On the other hand, I think you have a good heart. I don't know what you hope to accomplish, but I will help you.

Azena smiled like an idiot.

- Wait before you say something foolish.

He waited until she calmed down before continuing.

- We're going to do this on my terms.

Suspicious, Azena hesitated. She didn't trust him, but she was out of ideas.

- I accept, she answered reluctantly.

- I know you don't trust me and I don't blame you. However, I assure you on my honor that I will not betray you.

He made a gesture with his hand that ended in a fist on his chest.

- If you do no harm, I will repay you with my word.

She had forced herself to say the words. She hoped she hadn't walked into a trap.

- So, what now?

- I go to class, he said firmly. Meet me at the library an hour after supper. I have to tell Shalith of our plans before anything bad happens.

He waved at Azena and left.

- Paranoid that one, thought Azena. He accepted too easily. That's really suspicious.

She looked up at the nearest clock.

- I'm going to be late!

✦×✦

After school, Azena ran into Fayne on her way to Archlan Hall for supper.

- Hey! Fayne!

The blue dragon rider turned her head and waited for her friend.

- Did you have a good first day?

- Yeah, said Azena.

She blew on a rebellious stand of hair that had fallen on her face.

- Super interesting. I've finally started training with physical weapons. Vyrius is the master of this class. It's really strange, but it went well. Ariella knows a lot about fighting. She learned everything from her parents. It's a busy semester. Four out of five classes are physically demanding. I like the change. I'm not very intellectual.

- You're going to do better than me this semester, said the brunette with a smile. Oh, by the way, I'm going to the library after dinner.

Azena didn't know what to say. She had to cancel with Serfantor now.

- Really?

- Of course, Fayne said, looking curiously at her friend. What's going on? I thought that's what you wanted. I'll go, I assure you.

- All right, I'll be right back, she replied, hurrying away.

- Azena, Fayne cried, wait! Tyrath is looking for you.

She pointed to the other side of Archlan's Hall, but the half elf was already as far as the eye could see.

Azena searched for Serfantor throughout supper in vain. The gray elf was nowhere to be found.

Now it was time to meet him at the library. Indeed, he was waiting for him at the entrance, in a dark robe typical of his people. He observed her calmly, the frenetic whirlwind she was making, clearly indifferent to her extravagance.

- You're late.

- I've been looking for you. Where were you at dinner?

She felt the hair on her arms stand up.

- Gah, don't mention it. We're here now. Well, to be honest...

- Fayne will go, cut Serfantor.

He let out a small amused laugh.

- It's all right. I was outside with Guardian Nymia. I've been given permission to escort you to the library.

He took a scroll from his black coat. Azena devoured the scroll with her eyes.

- Hey, take it easy. Under my supervision is the condition. I want you at your best.

- At my best?

- Your behavior, he said with a smile.

It was a smile so soft you could have easily missed it. All the same, he seemed sincere.

- Her best behavior will get you into a lot of trouble, said a familiar voice.

Fayne ruffled Azena's hair slightly. The half elf growled, which made Fayne laugh.

- Did you think I wouldn't come?

Azena raised her index finger.

- That's not it. Let me explain.

She got distracted by a rebellious strand and flattened her hair, back to perfect condition.

- Don't worry, the librarian will still think you're cute, Fayne laughed.

The trio agreed to make use of the permission given to Serfantor. The warden wasn't happy to hear that.

- I'll be good, said Azena. It's a promise.

The guardian replied with a simple growl and let her pass.

They spent the whole evening looking for the history of DarkBlade. Fayne had unearthed the book "History of the dragon rider academies".

- When he created his Skotar team, Bemril DarkBlade used his last name as the team name, she read. The team also inherited the sigil of his house, a purple sword on a silver field. He decided to do so because his house was known to terrorize their enemies. He wanted to change his predefined reputation by a simple name. Moreover, since their addition to the Dragon Riders' cause, the family had declared itself free from the influence of the grey elf Queen. Bemril was thus the first goalkeeper and captain of his team and they won the first Skotar Cup.

She stopped, continued reading and looked up.

- There's nothing suspicious. Why would this rebel group use the sigil of a Skotar group?

- Maybe they find Bemril's story inspiring? Azena suggested innocently.

The herbalist frowned, unimpressed and continued:

- Our history tells us that Bemril destroyed his house. DarkBlade was powerful and feared. Bemril was intelligent and devious and he wanted to change the matriarchy for gender equality. Of course, society didn't approve. His wife was at the head of DarkBlade. After a while, she considered his opinion and ideas equal to her own. They tried to revolutionize the system, so the queen put a bounty on the destruction of their entire house. The rank of the house was decimated in a bloodbath. The last DarkBlade settled in Atgoren and vowed his life to the dragon riders. Really, the grey elves are more barbaric than I thought.

- You are lucky to have grown up in such a peaceful kingdom as Daigorn, Serfantor said, a certain sadness in his tone. That is not the case everywhere.

- But you're a dragon rider now, said Azena.

- Mmhhmm, muttered the gray elf.

- Anyway, we have to find a lead to follow about DarkBlade, encouraged Fayne.

In the end, the time for closing the library approached. The trio was not yet satisfied with their discoveries. Azena was on the verge of defeat and she hated that feeling.

- Think, think, she repeated.

- There must be relevant information somewhere, Fayne persisted, flipping through the pages of a huge book. Where haven't we looked?

Suddenly an idea was born in Azena's mind.

- The Tower of Masters.

- Say that again, said Fayne, staring at it as if she was incomprehensible.

- The Mother Tower. They're hiding books up there.

She waited for Fayne's reaction, but the herbalist remained frozen in confusion.

- There must be some information in those books. We need access. The secrets are all there.

She turned to Serfantor. The grey elf immediately understood Azena's intentions.

- That's out of question.

- We have to, it's too important.

- Not as important as my education. I'm sorry. It's no.

This time Serfantor was cold and serious, just like he was during their confrontation last year.

For a moment, Azena thought she could control herself, but suddenly her anger took over. Her blood was boiling and she raised her voice.

- How can you say no?

Fayne tried to calm her down. She ignored her and kept yelling and arguing with Serfantor. The gray elf retorted every time he didn't want to be banned from the academy and Azena replied that it was a bigger matter than the academy.

- Stop it, Fayne begged. You'll get us banned from the library.

Azena continued until a strong arm came and squeezed her head like a snake. She babbled a few incomprehensible words.

- That's how we silence Azena.

The female voice came from behind Azena. The grey dragon rider struggled uselessly and finally the arm relaxed.

- Still weak, she laughed at the same person.

Azena pulled a hair from her mouth and stared directly at her aggressor. Ariella sat down in front of her with a proud smile on her face.

- I'm going to have to train you.

Azena sulked, too stubborn to say anything.

- Ah, come on.I heard you two arguing across the library. You're lucky the guardian didn't hear you. She must be asleep. You were so loud.

- And the reason you came is... ? asked Azena, with her arms folded.

- I might have a solution for you.

Azena's dark mood changed dramatically.

- I have parents who have access to that tower.

- It seems risky to me, Serfantor said nervously. We shouldn't involve adults.

A drop of sweat, so fragile, so small, barely visible, rolled off his forehead and disappeared.

- You were so excited to help us, said Azena, staring at the gray elf in the eyes. What's going on? I think we should do it.

- It's going to be easy, Ariella said. They have the annoying habit of making out secretly in the Mother Tower and they leave the door ajar to hear if someone comes. I know because they argue about it at home. Mum's not always the smart one.

Hearing Ariella call Nymia her mother was strange, even confusing.

- What? Fayne asked.

She seemed traumatized, her eyes round and her mouth slightly opened.

- Not Nymia. It's just that it doesn't seem like her type to act like that.

Ariella burst out laughing, but stopped immediately by putting her hand over her mouth.

- Damn library. Not her type... That's the best one yet. She does look well-behaved at the academy.

- Wait a minute, said Serfantor, lost in the confusion and shock of the news. What is Nymia... I mean... What? You're talking about the serious and rigidly following all the rules, Nymia?

- Yes, confirmed Ariella. That's my mother. And my father is Eldarytzan, another master of this academy.

She loved to put emphasis on the obvious to make things worse.

- So, you see, in order to conceive me... certain things had to happen.

Ariella smiled, obviously bewitched by the idea of traumatising Serfantor because he was Nymia's favourite. Serfantor turned pale, his skin now closer to silver rather than a tone of grey and his cheeks were slightly pinkish.

- I'm speechless, confessed the elf.

- Not so perfect now, hey? Azena chuckled.

- Very worthy of an Azena dragon rider, Fayne said impatiently. There's no need to humiliate our superiors.

She stiffened, speaking with professional clarity.

- Come on, laughed Azena. Relax a little. It's too much fun to see him pale as a ghost.

She threw a friendly punch on Serfantor's arm and started laughing again.

- Indeed. It's rare that this happens, joked Ariella.

- By the White Woodruff, that was good.

She finally calmed down and wiped away a tear.

- Yeah, growled the blonde. Seriously, I don't agree with this childish behavior, but hey, it opens a door for us.

- I mean, literally.