1217-08-24
Mary Elephon:
Over the last few weeks my life has been uneventful. In truth, it has become monotonous. I wonder how Jay is. How he is doing.
I know if I become stone like my sister or pact with a dragon like my sister then I could free him.
Everything is my fault. It has been day after day of studying and working and learning about dragons but I still think about him every day. I am not sure why. Are these feelings for someone I have never felt before? It feels warm but I do not understand it.
I want to believe. I want to have faith that Milton will honor his deal as history has told me, but history is written by the victors, and those who do not support him are sent to Eleanor.
I remember before I left home we were overrun with criminals. Are they all bad, or were some of them people like me who questioned the authority of Milton and his party?
In a way they could all be like Tethambia, a country that lost so much of its will to fight, a country that owes everything it has to Sha'tar. But when Sha'tar finally finds them useful, they will be slaughtered as our soldiers have been.
What am I thinking? I know nothing of the future and nothing of other countries. I can say all I want about what will happen or what has happened, but I have not lived the lives of these rulers. I cannot see what they are thinking. Maybe I am being too harsh. Maybe Milton is sending people to Eleanor for a reason greater than myself.
"You will enter the hall one by one," a dragon knight calls. "You will be blindfolded. There will be hundreds of dragons lining the room. Walk in whatever direction you like. If a dragon chooses you, you will feel a burn where they place the seal, whether it is on your hand or on your back or your wrist. Do not fear. This seal is your lifeline, your connection to the dragon."
Before we enter, he says we must drink the fluid that waits outside the hall. If we do not, the dragons will refuse to pact with us.
Another voice rises, clearer and stronger. Lucia. "Only those of you who pact with light or lightning dragons will be able to become Holy Knights. The rest will serve Milton as dragon knights."
She tells us not to feel lesser if we cannot pact with a dragon of light or lightning. Everyone is given their own role.
Her lightning colored hair flows in the wind. Her hair is a deep blue though it used to be a deep yellow blonde.
Her armor gleams, white and gold and deep blue, polished so well it looks new.
My sister catches my eyes for a moment, a small frown crossing her face before turning into a smile.
My dark blonde hair flows beside me, like the wind is playing with it. She looks so cool. I know that if I pact with a dragon, I will change just as she has, and I know it will take years of training but I still want to become a Holy Knight.
"You will go in order of room number," a dragon knight calls. "So many of you will have to wait."
Agatha turns to me, her red hair flowing in the wind as well. "I guess it's time to study for our exams tomorrow."
"I still can't believe we even have exams," I sigh.
Agatha laughs. "I know, right? It feels like we just started training yesterday."
"I was reading about Tethambia," I say, leaning against the table. "Did you know it's a vassal to the east of Sha'tar?"
She raises an eyebrow. "Really? Every country has dragons, but Tethambia… they say it can control time."
"No one's ever seen a Time Dragon," I add. "All the stories come from Tethambian mouths.
"And apparently, no one in the world has ever killed a dragon." Agatha chuckles. "Besides Adrian Kundra, of course."
I laugh too. "Right. I almost forgot him."
She tilts her head. "The mark of a Tethambian is purple eyes, isn't it?"
I frown, thinking. "My mom has violet eyes, but she's from Tobe. There must be other factors."
Agatha nods. "The eye color always passes on, no matter the mother. Maybe she was taken from a young age." She pauses. "Also, violet is slightly darker than purple."
We both laugh softly, but it lingers in my mind.
"So… Tethambia is a vassal," Agatha says, tilting her head. "What does that really mean?"
I shrug. "It means they owe allegiance to another country. In this case, Sha'tar."
She frowns. "But why would Sha'tar, one of the strongest nations, vassal a tiny island like Tethambia?"
"They were cunning," I explain. "During the Hundred Year War, their assassins were some of the best. They wore contacts to hide their true eye color and assassinated high-ranking generals and kings. Sha'tar got them under control and now monitors their trade. If they hadn't, they would have been slaughtered."
Agatha's eyes widened. "Wow… that's intense."
I smirked. "I've always wanted to go to Tethambia."
She grinned. "We will one day."
Before we can continue, our conversation is cut short. A dragon knight calls our room number, blaring through the hall: N-161.
A small table sits outside the door. Cups filled with a red liquid that smells faintly of rosewood. I glance at Agatha. She's already drunk hers and nods to me.
I lift the cup and drink.
We step through the door, and the room immediately splits into two paths. One to the right, one to the left. There's almost no difference between the corridors. I glance at Agatha; she looks uncertain. I take the lead, choosing the right path.
Another door appears, ornate and detailed, gold trim and a jewel inset. The entrance stretches out before the dormitory. My sister stands there, a small frown tugging at her lips before she offers a soft smile.
"I'm sorry," she says.
…
"I'll have to blindfold you."
She doesn't tie it tightly. I can't see. I step inside and immediately hear a loud thunk. The door shuts behind me. It sealed me in. I could feel movement from behind me.
The blindfold slips from my eyes, and I freeze. The room is bathed in red light, walls lined with dragons.
Juvenile dragons of ice, fire, and earth stare at me, their eyes tired, angry. My chest tightens.
I feel fear.
They can feel it too.
I step forward. I extend a hand, but nothing. None of them respond, none of them accept me. I falter, realizing it's not just them. It's me.
Doubt curls around me like smoke. I still don't know if I want to trust the supreme dragon. Pacts are permanent. Once made, there is no turning back.
In this world, nothing is ever truly black and white, I remind myself. Choices are rarely clean, but this feels different. The dragon or the lion.
There is no middle ground here. I remember the library, hundreds of books warning against the Lion, thousands more on the benefits of pacts. And yet, if King Milton wills it, should I trust it? Can I?
My chest tightens even more. I can't promise eternal servitude to something with so many stories, so many unknowns.
Its history could be cruel, or perhaps just misunderstood.
"I trust Adrian more than I trust Milton," I whisper, my voice cracking. "And because of that… I trust the Lion more than I trust the dragons."
The dragons roar in response. A chorus of rage and frustration. The door behind me begins to creak open.
Panic surges.
Weight presses down on me. Dragons pile on top, wings and claws, burning against my skin. I see flickers of dark light.
The dragon eyes turned pitch black.
They are forcing the pact. I can't. I can't accept it.
"I WONT."
A sharp pain slices through me. White-hot. Nothing. Silence.
A thin grey line forms around my body, outlining me against the dragons' mass. My breath comes in shallow gasps. I feel trapped. I feel suspended between fear and helplessness.
A faint shimmer. A ghostly and pale.A grey rather than white. A small book floats before me. Its pages glowing for a second. It vanishes, gone as quickly as it appeared.
I am left trembling. My heart is hammering in despair. Every instinct screams that I am powerless here. I am nothing before them, yet the dragons wait, restless and watching, demanding something I cannot give.
I close my eyes tightly. I try to calm the storm in my chest. I wished there was another way. Any way to escape this weight. This choice. This terror.
The dragons continue to scream. Their voices echo off the walls. The door swings open.
"What's happening?" a teacher yells. "I've never seen that happen before."
Pacts are postponed for the rest of the day. I head back to my dorm room.
The lights are off. The darkness presses around me.I can feel someone is there. Their presence lingers, sharp and alive, like I can sense their spirit.
Agatha snaps her fingers, and a faint lightning glow fills the room. A dragon is sitting in her lap.
"Isn't it cool?" she smiles, the light dancing across her face.
"Yeah, but… you thought you'd pact with a fire dragon," I say, glancing at her arm.
"Matches the hair and all," she says with a grin.
She rolls up her sleeve. A sigil is stamped on her forearm. A red circle with a dragon pressed into its center.
"Did you pact?" she asks. Her red eyes are bright.
I shake my head. "No."