If only her sister Talia, and Claws, had been there it would have been absolute perfection; there wasn’t a day when Xandrie didn’t think of them, and long for their presence.
Thankfully, she was kept too distracted to give in to melancholy. It wasn’t just the physical space and the astounding people that made Farden a dream-come-true for Xandrie, it was the kickass routine that made up her day. She and Demelza sparred every morning, Sir Vincent Vasili spurring them on.
“You need to hold the sword in the traditional way.” He scooted behind Xandrie and put his arms around her, showing her the correct stance.
Interesting how non-invasive he felt; like her brother, but blond, honed, and more muscular than Damion. Not her type at all, but Vincent was pleasant and pleasing, with a wicked sense of humor.
Xandrie smiled at her own thought: her type. She’d never had one before, to her knowledge. Some actors in movies had seemed attractive, and she’d certainly noticed the beauty of the two Elves she’d met what felt like a lifetime ago. Now, she had a defined type: a little taller than Vincent, a little larger in the shoulder, with piercing eyes, a beard, and ash blond hair.
Shaking her head, she forced all thought of Rhey Vasili out of her mind, like she did every time he crept in. For one, the man happened to be a freaking King. There was probably a law against lusting after Kings.
Vincent placed her hands on the sword. “The hilt is long enough to accommodate both hands, which you’ll need if you want to slice someone with this bad boy.”
Xandrie rotated her wrists, sending the sword in a singing arc above their heads.
“No. You’re not beating meringue. You’re brandishing a heavy class-A weapon. The wrists remain still. Try to keep it steady, because your adversary certainly knows how to use hers.”
Vincent nodded towards Demelza, who came at her, full on. The Claiming was only days away; she’d said she needed all the practice she could get.
Vincent dodged to the edge of the arena, grinning like the proverbial cat. He loved training, so much so that Xandrie wondered why he didn’t make it his profession.
Demelza did not mess around. She danced this side, then that, then behind her with her kabutowari, the famed helmet-breaker – singeing the hairs on her arms as it flew by. Xandrie had neither Demelza’s speed, nor skill, but Vincent said she had good instincts and grit, which she took to mean she might catch up to Demelza someday. Possibly. Maybe. As much as a human could catch up to a dragon. She couldn’t imagine when, though; Demelza was faster than a damned dervish.
“Cheater.” Xandrie fell back, mopping her forehead with her sleeve. “You can only move that fast using magic.”
“So? Use yours,” said Vincent.
Both women stopped dead in their tracks.
“What do you mean?” said Xandrie.
Vincent looked at Demelza. “Surely, you feel it?”
Demelza shook her head. “You lost me, cuz.”
Vincent pointed to Xandrie’s abdomen, saying, “Here, in the pit of your belly, you feel power stir?”
She just frowned, confused.
“You have plenty of magics in you, little girl; not just mage blood, but dragonfire, too.”
As he spoke, Vincent walked forward, invading her personal space like he belonged there, and grabbed her hand.
She was a second away from kneeing his groin, but he did something she hadn’t seen coming; something she didn’t quite understand. He touched her hand - the one marked by that strange rune - his own palm ablaze with dragonfire.
“Holy shitty dragon fucking scale.”
That came from Demelza, but had she been able to talk, Xandrie agreed. Her rune shone, and all of a sudden power did radiate from her entrails, she felt it in her bones.
“Do you know what dragons are?”
She had no clue what Vincent talked about - dragons were dragons, and that was it.
“One of the first kinds of great Beasts - they roamed Eartia long before humans, before Elves, and any such things. They lived alongside gods, monsters and creatures of legends, in complete chaos. Then, our time came, and the monsters disappeared. Aether swallowed them all, so that Eartia may be at peace. Dragons, however, never disappeared. Instead, they were sealed inside the strongest and wisest of men. Dragons are a gift of Aether to mankind. The fire inside us should consume us, but Aether blessed it, and molded our bodies to withstand the flame. We have the lifespan of our beasts, and their powers, too.”
“You speak of Aether as though it was a person, not an entity.” Vincent shrugged.
“Aether is conscious, that much has always been clear. What I mean to say, little, supposedly human, gal, is that you have dragonfire, and are Aether blessed, just like the rest of us.”
That didn’t make any sense.
“Now, Elza, you will stop holding back. And Xandrie, make use of that magic if you want to see another day.”
Because Demelza was her friend, she did what she had to do, and obeyed their trainer. Xandrie felt the all-consuming, heavy, oppressive source of power rush towards her, ready to strike. Fuck. Here goes nothing.
Lies
Holy fire, she was a vision. Seeing the human - or supposedly human, as Vincent rightly said - take on his very well trained, extremely lethal, fully fledged dragon friend, Rhey was so stunned he came out of the dark alcove where he’d been lurking, joining Vincent.
Alexandria didn’t all of a sudden develop superior skills and kick Demelza’s ass - but she did hold her own. The first assault, she dodged, using a speed that shouldn’t have been possible. The second, she blocked, her katana blazing with golden flames as she withstood the dragoness’ attack.
“This makes zero sense.”
Vincent nodded his agreement, but there was a humongous smile on his lips, telling him he didn’t quite believe that.
“Talk.”
“You know I use to have a thing about stealing books from the Elders’ archives…”
He had - and Vincent had never been caught.
The two cousins had grown up together - Vincent was only three years his elder; he’d been the studious, serious one, up until the incident no one talked of occurred. Then, instead of breaking, as some might have, Vincent started to make light of any situation, using humor to make up for his pain.
Vincent had lost his dragon - or sealed it inside him; no one knew. The gist of it was that he couldn’t shift. He could have crumbled; instead he survived it.
Before that change, Vincent had amassed his fair share of forbidden knowledge, though.
“Go on.”
“This didn’t come from me. And for the sake of everything that’s holy, don’t tell the Elders you know of it, either.”
Rhey nodded his agreement.