SUPER SECRET [Short Story Project?] Crown Tournament

Hey peeps!

So, BIG NEWS! 

Last month, I posted a short story about a boy who bonds with a kirin. I had thought of it for a long time, because kirins are my favorite mythical creature of all time, basically. None of the books I've written so far have focused on a kirin arcanist, thought (and one is the villain in the Frith Chronicles, obviously, lol) so I always just kind of thought of it in the background.

WELL, it turns out that a writer buddy of mine wants to do a co-author project.

He loves martial arts.

And he wants to do a martial arts style tournament sent in the arcanist world.

We talked about it, we discussed the outline for several hours, and I told him that I thought it could work, so long as I had creative control, basically.

SO - Crown Tournament (as pictured above) will be a martial arts style tournament story featuring the kirin arcanist from my short story. Ryan Tang (the co-author) has already started the project, and super excited to complete it.

And I'm going to show you guys! lol

Here it is! Chapters 1-4! <3

Please let me know if you enjoy. We both worked hard on it, and I wanted to surprise people. So... SURPRISE!

Shami

CHAPTER ONE

Everyone in the orphanage dreaded being picked.

When House Mother Mila had us clean the common room and line up for a shower, we all knew what was coming. The others were afraid, but I became icy.

“Amir, you’re next,” House Mother Mila called. “Hurry, child.”

I stepped forward, trying not to think.

House Mother Mila’s gentle hand pressed against the center of my back as she pushed me under the showerhead. She rinsed my thick and curly black hair and then lathered the soap across my tan skin. She was hasty with the washing since there were twenty-five kids to get through.

Icy water cascaded over me, numbing my body as much as my mind. I closed my eyes and took deep breaths. I hated the water ever since my mother was… Ever since her death.

The East-Sea Raiders had invaded our shore town just a few days after my fifth birthday. My mother had tried to flee with me.

I shuddered.

This was why I hated thinking.

Images of that day played at the edges of my thoughts, clawing their way into my imagination. A raider whose face was riddled with pockmarks. Timo, the kind blacksmith, being dragged beneath the sea. I couldn’t shake those images. Every day in the orphanage, a parade of dark thoughts trumpeted through my mind.

“Amir,” House Mother Mila whispered. Her comforting voice brought me back to the present. “You’re all done. Get ready now. Quickly, quickly.” She ran a hand over my head, pushing my hair to the side of my face so it wouldn’t get into my eyes.

I stumbled away from the shower, trembling as I gathered my ratty clothes and pulled them on. Rosewood Orphanage was too small for the number of people who lived here. And new kids arrived every day. The East-Sea Raiders had been more active, or so I heard the adults whisper.

Kids disappeared on the regular, too, but they didn’t go on to live glorious new lives.

Plenty of “parents” only wanted children so they could work them death. The adopted kids to send them to the rice fields or help build ships or even mine for them. The children they adopted were free workers, not a family. Sometimes, the kids ran away from their forced labor and returned to Rosewood.

They were the lucky ones.

Some other kids…

Some were never heard from again. They were taken by vile men. I didn’t know what the men did for a living, but House Mother Mila never looked them in the eyes when they came.

What if they were secretly East-Sea Raiders? What if they were adopting kids to put them to work on their boats? What if I was taken by them one day?

Once boys reached a certain age, they were always picked up to be workers. I was six and a half now. Big enough. They could take me. They would.

Luna was the next to stumble from the icy showers. We all shared one room—the boys and the girls—and she hurried to her bed to grab her clothes. We all wore the same outfit as well. A gray shirt and pants, worn at the edges since it had been passed down from one kid to the next for who knows how long.

Once dressed, Luna turned to me, her brown eyes wide and innocent, like a little deer. She hurried to my side, still shivering.

“Amir,” she said, her throat tight. “I don’t want to go.”

I nodded. I didn’t know what else to say.

Luna held her hands together and kept them pressed against her chest. “The older girls said Rebecca was taken b-by men who fed her to manticores. Do y-you think that’s true, Amir?”

I had no idea. I hoped not. Desperately hoped not.

My silence didn’t help her. Luna’s eyes grew watery. She pulled at her short brown hair, her fingers laced in her locks.

“I don’t want to be picked,” she whispered, staring at the floor. “I-I don’t want to be eaten.”

I placed a hand on her shoulder. Luna glanced up, tears streaming down her face. She was the same age as Rebecca. Seven. Maybe Luna would be picked. Unless, for some reason, she wasn’t allowed at the lineup…

With my chest knotting in anxiety, I glanced around. The shabby beds had wool blankets and feather-stuffed pillows. I walked over, tore open a bit of the casing, and removed one of the soft tiny feathers. Occasionally, a kid inhaled one in the middle of the night. They would cough for several minutes straight. Sometimes an hour. The tiny feathers always got stuck in their throats, and refused to come out.

I offered the feather to Luna as another child walked into the room to get dressed.

“Swallow it,” I whispered. “And then tell the house mother you’re sick.”

Luna grabbed the tiny feather from my palm, her own hand shaky. It took her a moment to realize my plan. She’d have a fit of coughing the moment she swallowed it. And House Mother Mila never put sick kids in front of potential parents.

When Luna met my gaze, her eyebrows were knitted. “You swallow one, too.”

If we were all sick…

Maybe… No. That was silly. House Mother Mila would see right through our childish plan. Adults were smart. But if it was just one… Maybe Luna would get away with it.

A bell rang throughout Rosewood Orphanage. That meant the new parents were here.

House Mother Mila hurried everyone to their beds. Most of them hadn’t bathed, but we were out of time. They changed into a new outfit and quickly took their place at the foot of their beds. I did the same.

Luna went to the house mother and swallowed her feather, just as I told her. She started coughing, so loud it drew everyone’s attention. Her face turned red, her eyes watered—she couldn’t stop, even when House Mother Mila scolded her.

“Go outside,” the house mother said, guiding Luna to the back door. “Go to the well and get a drink. Wait there for me. I’ll see you afterward.”

Which meant Luna had gotten her wish. She wouldn’t be here for the lineup.

Then House Mother Mila clapped her hands and straightened our hair as she walked down the center of the room. “Everyone stand straight,” she said with a smile, but there was no smile in her tone. “You might find a loving home today!”

Not a single word. Most of us didn’t even look up.

House Mother Mila exited the room to gather the potential parents. Everyone listened to the creak of the floorboards as she walked the small hallway, and then back down a moment later. When she returned, she was accompanied by a single man.

He had eyes like smoldering coals.

The man’s stiff hair was more silver than black, but despite his obvious age, he stood tall and proud. I always thought House Mother Mila was so taller—so much taller than me—but compared to this new man, she seemed small.

The man had obvious muscle. It reminded me of the East-Sea Raiders.

Maybe he was one of them.

He even wore a bizarre outfit. A chest piece made of black scales, thick pants, leather boots, and a pair of gloves. His cloak was a dark red—blazing scarlet—and it hung over him like a silky waterfall of blood.

I already hated this man. I hoped beyond hope he wouldn’t even look in my direction.

“Here are all the children,” House Mother Mila said. She motioned to us with a short gesture. “They’re all so well behaved. If you have any questions—”

“I don’t,” the man said, cutting her off with a gruff voice as coarse as sand.

“O-Oh. Pardon me. Perhaps you want to at least speak to the children?”

The man stepped forward. Each footfall was heavy. The floorboards groaned. Everyone stood stiffer and straighter than before.

When he drew near, I chanced a glance up at his face.

His forehead…

It was marked with a seven-pointed star.

An arcanist star.

I almost gasped. Some of the other kids must’ve seen as well, because a few of them whispered with excitement.

Arcanists were the most powerful people ever! They could wield magic so powerful it could control the weather, or tide, or rearrange a mountain! They were both feared and respected—the best of the best! Some arcanists used their magic to protect people and improve life, while other arcanists used their magic to terrorize the world…

Like the arcanists in the East-Sea Raiders.

This man—the strange man with the red cloak—had a star laced with a wingless dragon. A drake of some kind. The beast in the star represented the mystical creature the arcanist had bonded with.

The raiders who attacked my shore town…

One of them had a whale. A murderous, undead whale. It was as rotted as a corpse in a graveyard but animated through vile magic.

I would never forget.

“This one.”

I shot my gaze up the moment the man spoke.

He was pointing at me.

“Amir?” the house mother asked. “Perhaps you want to spend some time with him before—”

“I’ve made up my mind,” the man said, his words practically a growl.

House Mother Mila never denied the people who came to “adopt” us. No matter how scary or mean they were, she took their money and sent the kids away. If this strange man said he wanted me, there would be no fighting it.

“Very well.” House Mother Mila walked over and gently touched my shoulder. “Come, Amir. Gather your things.” She forced a smile. “Today is your lucky day.”

No one said anything. They watched with wide eyes, some of them smiling to themselves. I bet they were happy they weren’t the ones picked.

I grabbed a small sack and stuffed in my one other outfit. Then I reached under the mattress and pulled out a thumb-sized scale. It had belonged to a dragon—maybe. I didn’t actually know. All I knew was that my mother loved it.

The scale changed colors. During the day, it was white, and at night, it was black. She always kept it with her. Well, before the East-Sea Raiders came.

Now it was my sole possession.

Once everything I owned was all put together, the house mother walked with me and the strange man all the way to the front door of Rosewood Orphanage. The man handed over a bag of coins—far larger than I had ever seen anyone pay—and then said something under his breath to House Mother Mila.

She took the bag and glanced inside, her brow furrowed.

Then House Mother Mila glanced down at me. “Behave yourself, Amir. And stay strong.”

Stay strong.

I mouthed a goodbye, but the words never formed.

She patted my head one last time.

I held my small sack close to my chest, my thoughts cold, my body shaking. I stepped outside with the man in the red cloak. The orphanage door shut behind me, the harsh snap a reminder that I’d probably never see anyone inside ever again.

The man grabbed my shoulder, his grip like an iron handcuff. He walked me across the yard, his footfalls as heavy as ever. We reached the gates, and the man placed a hand on the wrought iron bars. Before he opened the age, he stared down at me.

He was just… so much larger than me.

“My name is Elias,” the man said.

I said nothing.

He narrowed his piercing eyes. “Didn’t the orphanage teach you any manners?”

“O-Oh,” I said, my throat so tight, it was difficult to breathe. “I’m Amir Thee—er, I’m Amir Rosewood.”

My birth name had been Amir Theeno, but everyone who arrived at Rosewood Orphanage always took the last name of the building. I liked it better, anyway. Theeno was my father’s last name, and he left my mother a while back. He wasn’t there to protect her from the raiders. He had abandoned us—which was why I would abandon his family name.

A warm and pleasant breeze drifted towards me, heating my face. A stray grain of desert sand almost hit me in the eye, forcing me to blink.

“Let’s go,” Elias said as he pushed open the gate. “She has been waiting a long time. It would be rude to make her wait any longer.”

I didn’t question him. I didn’t even ask who she was. I just wanted to get this over with. I wanted him to just tell me what my fate was. A worker? A raider slave? A manticore’s dinner? Questions ran around my head like the children in the orphanage did after a sweet treat.

We stepped onto the main street of town. The sun set in the distance, lighting the sky up with a flash of crimson. Merchants in tents shouted at us, hawking their goods. People bustled by, staring at Elias’s arcanist mark. Some pointed.

Elias ignored everyone.

He took me straight to our town’s sole inn. It was made of wood, but larger than most buildings around. We entered, and the serving woman behind the bar nodded to Elias.

“Welcome back, Ronald,” she said.

Ronald?

When I turned to Elias, he stared down at me with half a grin.

Then he took me to the stairs. We walked up the first few creaky steps before he said, “I don’t give many people my real name, kid.” He crossed his arms. “Don’t go tellin’ anyone, got it?”

I nodded once, both confused and curious.

But I couldn’t bring myself to speak.

We reached the top of the steps, and Elias guided me down a long and empty hall. It was dark. The lanterns hadn’t yet been lit. Elias didn’t seem to care. He strode forward with confidence. I hurried my steps to match his pace.

When we reached the door to his room, my thoughts filled with dark imaginings. What was going to happen?

Elias knocked on the door before he opened it. “Hyperion. I’ve returned.”

In one quick movement, Elias pushed me into the door as the door fully opened. Then he stepped inside and shut the door behind him, like he wanted to make sure no one else would even get a glance inside.

I couldn’t breathe.

Inside the room…

Was a giant, monstrous drake.

It a long serpentine neck and a deadly spiked tail. Its scales were as burnt crimson as Elias’s cloak. Its eyes were as golden as the sand in summer. Its claws… They were large enough to slice through a man.

The drake was larger than the bed, and just a little bigger than a horse. When it moved, its muscles rippled beneath its fiery scales.

I stumbled backward and ran into Elias’s legs. He pushed me forward, and my vision tunneled.

She’s been waiting a long time.

Now I understood what Elias had meant. This drake…

It was going to eat me.

All the stories were true. Kids being feed to mystical creatures. I’d never leave this room alive.

“I think the boy’s gonna faint,” the drake said, a huff of embers and smoke wafting out of its serpentine mouth as it spoke.

Elias grabbed my shoulder and tightened his grip. “He’ll be fine.” Then Elias glanced down and narrowed his gaze. “Hm? What’s wrong with you? Never seen a drake before?”

“He’s paler than bone,” the drake hissed.

Elias shook me with a hard jerk of his hand. “Damn kids getting afraid of nothing.” He pushed me over toward the sole bed in the room. “Pick yourself, kid. Hyperion isn’t going to hurt you. He’s a friendly little syrocko. Most of the time.”

Hyperion—a male drake, then—huffed a laugh. “I’m nice for a syrocko drake. Maybe not so much when compared to a sapphire drake.”

“Knock it off,” Elias growled. “The damn kid is about to pass out. We don’t any more of this.”

Their banter confused me. I wasn’t going to be eaten? What was happening then? Why had Elias brought me here? There was so much I wanted to ask him, but I just couldn’t find the words. I wished I were an adult—so I could be brave and just do and say whatever I wanted—but the smell of smoke reminded me of the raiders…

Elias positioned me next to the bed.

It was oddly lumpy.

Was someone sleeping?

Elias threw back the blanks. A strange creature was curled up on the mattress. One I had never seen before. It looked like a cross between a dragon and a unicorn.

It had the body of a foal, but its cloven hooves reminded me of a deer. It had dazzling white fur and a long mane of hair. Or maybe it had scales? The little creature shimmered when it attempted to stand. Its blue eyes were like precious stones—too valuable for anyone but royalty.

The mystical creature had a horn on its head. It was twisted, but pointed, and was a clear blue crystal, just as wondrous as its eyes.

The little creature stared at me for a long time. It was like… we were staring into each other’s souls.

I couldn’t look away. I could barely breathe.

“We’ve been looking for you for a long time, Amir,” Elias said as he reached over and patted the little foal. “This is Roux. She saw you in the orphanage courtyard when we got into town. She’s a kirin. Do you know what a kirin is, boy?”

I shook my head.

“It’s a special kind of mystical creature. Normally, a person has to prove themselves to a mystical creature in order to bond. But kirin… they know who they want to bond with the moment they’re bond. Roux has been looking for you. She’s been searching for her entire life.”

She looked like a little fowl, but when I stared into her eyes, I somehow knew she was much older than that.

Mystical creature didn’t grow older unless they were bonded. That was what House Mother Mila had taught us.

So Roux… this little kirin… had been looking for me?

And she knew she would bond with me when she saw me in the orphanage courtyard? Why hadn’t they approached me then? Why wait? Why adopt me?

When the kirin spoke, it wasn’t with her mouth, like a normal person or creature—she spoke directly into my mind, filling my thoughts with her words.

“Amir,” she said, though no one else could hear. “I’ve waited so long to meet you.”

I lifted my hand, nervous and still confused. “Hello.”

“Don’t be frightened. It’s my job—my destiny—to lead you to greatness. I’ve seen it in my dreams.”

“R-Really?”

“That’s right. Elias and I are going to make sure you grow to become the most powerful arcanist of them all. That’s your destiny, Amir.”

CHAPTER TWO

This morning I awoke as an orphan, but now I was to become an arcanist?

“Really?” I whispered. I felt awkward for asking the same question again and again, but I just couldn’t believe it. Why me? I was nobody.

Roux nodded. Then she moved to the edge of the mattress, her thin foal legs wobbling due to the soft surface. When she drew near, she lowered her head so that her crystal horn pointed at me.

“It’s true,” she said directly into my thoughts.

“But… how? Why? I… I don’t know anything.”

“We’ll teach you. And when the time is right, you’ll prove your worth in front of the world. But first, we must bond. We will accomplish this momentous goal together.”

I didn’t know what momentousmeant, but I could tell this was important. With a shaky hand, I touched the kirin’s horn. It was warm. I hadn’t been expecting that. Then a feeling filled my thoughts. A kind feeling. Something forever and wondrous.

I closed my eyes.

Then warmth spread from my fingertips and traveled throughout my whole body. My forehead burned as I was marked with the symbol for arcanists. I developed a seven-pointed star with a kirin woven throughout the points.

It felt right.

Then Roux lifted her head. “We are bond together. You are my arcanist. I am your eldrin.”

Eldrin. That was the term for mystical creatures who had bonded. Roux was my eldrin. Just like the syrocko drake, Hyperion, was Elias’s eldrin.

Elias’s stern voice cut through my thoughts. “Time to leave.”

I opened my eyes as Elias walked over to his syrocko drake and secured a single saddled on its back. It was made of worn leather that seemed well loved. Once it was tightly fastened around his giant drake, Elias turned to me and glared.

I picked held my sack of belongings in one hand and gripped at the hem of my shirt with the other. “Um…”

“What’re you waiting for, boy? Get over here.”

“W-We’re going to ride him in the room?” I asked as I glanced around the tiny area.

Elias walked over to the window. It was night, and the glow of the white moon drifted in through the glass. Then Elias opened the window, and a rush of cold air filled the bedroom.

“We’re going to fly to our destination,” Elias stated.

I stared at Hyperion. The massive drake met my gaze with a smile.

“He doesn’t have any wings,” I whispered.

“We don’t need wings.” Elias walked back over to his eldrin. “Now come. I don’t want to stay another moment longer in this dusty old village.”

I stood still.

Roux leapt off the mattress and trotted to Elias’s side. The man effortlessly scooped her up and held my kirin in his arms. She was so small, and Elias was so large…

Then Elias glowered in my direction a second time. “I said we need to go. Hurry.”

“But…” Again, I glanced at Hyperion. “He can’t fly?”

“Syrocko drakes control the desert winds,” Elias said with a growl.

“They do?”

Elias nodded. “Like I said, we don’t need wings. Now come. You’ll learn everything you need to know in due time.”

“So where are we going?” I walked over to Hyperion.

“My home.”

“Where’s that?”

“The Sunset Desert.”

“Really? But nobody lives in the Sunset Desert.”

The Sunset Desert was on the west side of the Pale Dragon River. House Mother Mila said it was an empty wasteland raging with deadly twisters. Humans didn’t live there. Only mystical creatures.

“I live in the Sunset Desert,” Elias said. “Now can we please stop asking questions? I’m your master, and you’re my student. I say things, and you listen. That’s our relationship.”

I frowned.

That didn’t sound fun. What if he ordered me to act like a raider? What if he wanted me to kill people?

“Aren’t I supposed to be a powerful arcanist?” I asked. “Powerful arcanists don’t have to listen to others.”

Hyperion snickered and a flame unfurled from his nostril. “The boy has a point.”

Elias scoffed. “No, he doesn’t. Amir. Just ask your kirin.” He pointed to the kirin. “She’ll tell you to listen to me.”

Roux stared at me with her beautiful blue eyes. “The kind of arcanist you become is completely up to you. Whether you take the advice of your mentor or do things all your own—I will back your decisions.”

Elias waited a moment and then half-smiled. “Well? What did she say?”

That was odd. Elias couldn’t hear Roux? Were her words only in my head? It seemed that way.

I fidgeted with my sack as I replied, “Roux said I don’t have to listen to you.”

Elias frowned, his eyes practically half-lidded. With a sigh, he brought Roux to his chest and held her protectively. “I carried you around for close to two decades,” he whispered, but his voice was deep enough I could hear. “This is how you repay me? You could’ve at least played along.”

Hyperion laughed. “You’re a better fighter than teacher, Elias. Day one of our training, and you already created a tyrant.”

Elias turned to his eldrin, his frown somehow deepening. “I should just give him to the raiders. Theycan train him to be a tyrant.”

My eyes widened and my heart plummeted.

The raiders?

They wanted to let the raiders train me?

“What? No!” I cried.

Elias and Hyperion glanced at me strangely.

“I can’t go to the raiders!” I said. “I don’t want to be like them!”

“Calm yourself, my arcanist,” Roux said in my thoughts. “Elias and Hyperion would never give you to the raiders.”

Elias walked over and grabbed my shoulder. “Calm down,” he said, practically parroting Roux’s words, even though he couldn’t hear them. “I’m not going to give you to the damn raiders.”

My lower lip quavered as I stared up at him. “R-Really?”

“Well, as long as you don’t disobey.”

Hyperion snorted and then lashed his tail. “Don’t scare the kid.”

“Fine, fine!” Elias pulled me over to his drake eldrin. “Don’t worry. Hyperion and I won’t let the raiders have you.”

I gulped. “I’ll listen. Just don’t send me away to the raiders! I don’t want to be like them.”

“Good,” Elias said. “Because those dastards aren’t worth emulating. Just listen to me, and I’ll steer you right.”

“Right?” I asked as Elias helped me onto the saddle.

“Yeah.”

The syrocko drake was so big and warm, I felt comfortable the moment I shifted my weight around on the saddle.

Elias effortlessly climbed on behind me. The saddled was large, but it clearly wasn’t designed for two people and a little foal. Despite that, Elias hooked my feet into little straps, and made sure I was nice and secure. Then he tied himself down and wrapped one around me.

“Once you’re done with my training, you’ll see,” Elias said. “Those raiders think they know what true power is, but they’re just thugs. Even the arcanists—they don’t know how to wield magic any more than they know count to ten.”

“You’ll teach me to be powerful?” I touched the rough scales of Hyperion and felt the muscles of his large drake body move with each subtle twitch of his tail.

“You’ll be powerful enough to defeat villains and protect the innocent. To right the wrongs of the world. To sit upon a throne and govern with justice.”

Defeating villains and protecting people who needed protecting… I liked the sound of that. I didn’t know what he meant by the rest of it, though.

Before I could ask any more questions, Hyperion turned to face the window. Then he carefully climbed over the sill and leapt into the sky.

At first, I thought we were going to fall and crash into the ground. I gasped and grabbed hold of the saddle, my heart pounding loud in my ears. Elias held me tight.

Then a rush of hot air lifted up around us. It whooshed and howled, and Hyperion tucked his legs close to his body. We rose with the wind and glided into the sky, going higher and higher at a steady pace, slowly gaining speed.

The town disappeared beneath us, growing tinier and tinier with each passing moment.

Hyperion didn’t stop. The winds took us closer to the clouds before helping us toward the desert. I had to gulp down breath because my chest was so tight.

“Everything is fine,” Roux said to me in my thoughts. “Enjoy the scenery.”

She spoke to me like an adult. I liked that. My eldrin was so mature…

And when I glanced over and looked at the ground below, my fears melted away. The desert sands shimmered under the glow of the moon. The dunes rolled out in all directions, all the way to horizon.

Hyperion flew like a snake swimming through water. His tail flickered behind him, and his head swayed back and forth as we went. I thought the wind would bother my eyes, or mess up my hair, but it was like we were surrounded by a bubble of calmness. I barely felt anything as we sped onward.

***

I didn’t remember falling sleep.

When Hyperion landed, and my eyes fluttered open, I realized it was morning. The sun was peaking over the distant dune, filling the sky with orange and red.

Elias let go of me and slid off the saddle. Then he unhooked my straps and held me down. Hyperion also made the process easy by lying down.

Where were we?

I didn’t see any buildings. We weren’t near any towns. All I saw was sand and rocks.

“Home at last,” Elias said with a smile.

Hyperion nodded. “Thank the good stars.”

“Home?” I asked.

Elias waved his arm out in front of him. The sands answered his command and moved along with his motion. The grains all shifted away to reveal a conceal staircase. “It’s cooler underground.”

“We’re going to live underground?” I asked, my voice loud and high-pitched. “Really?”

“Settle down, kid.” Elias guided me over to the top of the stairway. “Today, we’re going to take it easy, get you all set up, and then tomorrow, right at dawn, we’re going to start your training for real.”

CHAPTER THREE

According to Elias, the Sunset Desert had once been the bottom of a great ocean. The water all dried up, leaving the red sands and strange rocks in its place.

Elias lived underground, in a dwelling carved from stone and opal. The shimmering open veins brightened the walls at odd points, giving color to the otherwise drab abode. By being underground, we were protected from the harsh desert winds and the unforgiving temperatures. Elias also had a way to get water—a well of some kind.

I felt safe in the underground home. All six rooms were pleasant.

Roux and I had our own sleeping space, which was amazing. I hadn’t had my own room since I lived with my mother. I even had my own tiny bookshelf. Elias had books stacked on the shelves, but I made a small spot for my dragon scale.

We had no windows. Our light came from glowstones—rocks imbued with ambient magic. They glowed no matter the time of day. It was a dim glow, and pleasantly warm.

However, since I couldn’t see the sky, my dragon scale acted like a clock. At night, it became black, no matter what. During the day, it was white, even if I didn’t expose it to the sun. And it reminded me of my mother, so I kept it prominently displayed in my room.

***

I didn’t leave my new underground home often.

Elias wanted me to learn the basics, so for months, I just followed his routine.

Once I woke, I threw off my thin blanket, yawning and stretching my arms. The glowstones—and the light of Roux’s crystal horn—were enough for me to see everything in my bedroom. I glanced over at my scale. Black. Still night.

Elias told me that deserts grew terribly cold at night. Much colder than normal places. I didn’t know why, but because of that fact, I was forbidden from going outside at night unless I had Hyperion with me.

I didn’t mind.

Hot and dry was a lot better than cold and wet. I preferred the daytime.

Dread tickled the back of my mind, and my muscles tensed. I shook my head and slid out of bed. Ever since Elias adopted me, I’d slept on a firm straw mattress. It was better than Rosewood Orphanage, and I would’ve happily slept longer, but that went against my training.

I needed to wake before the sunrise to meditate and clear my mind for the day.

Meditating on my bed was wrong—according to Elias. The bed was for sleeping. I wouldn’t have the right mindset if I prepared for my day while lying there.

I made my bed, then sat cross-legged on the floor. I closed my eyes, pushing away the intrusive thoughts. There was no point worrying about the raiders. Elias said worrying about things in the present only poisoned the now and weakened my future. I needed to be as strong as possible—in mind, body, and soul.

I didn’t know what that meant, but it sounded important.

The negative thoughts and energy slowly seeped away from my body. My heart beat evenly, my muscles loosened, and Roux’s magic danced in my veins.

Fifteen minutes later, I stood and did my morning stretches. I braced my hand against the stone wall, and then pulled back my leg and loosened my muscles.

Roux slept at the foot of my bed. She always woke at the same time I did and watched over me as I performed my meditation and morning routine.

She watched me now, even as I finished my stretches and walked over to the calendar hanging on the wall. I used my charcoal pencil to cross off another day.

Then I smiled.

“Hey, Roux, it’s my eighth birthday,” I said through our shared telepathy.

“Congratulations,” she replied as she bowed her head, the crystal horn almost touching the rug covering the stone floor.

I stared at the calendar and frowned. “When is your eighth birthday?” I asked aloud. Sometimes I would forget to use our telepathy, which was awkward for Elias.

Roux’s ear twitched. “I celebrated my eighth birthday centuries ago.”

I turned to her, my eyes wide. “Really? You’re that old?”

“Yes. But us ladies don’t like to discuss numbers.” She stood and trotted over to me, lifting her legs high with each step. “I don’t need to celebrate my birth. I wasn’t truly born until I met you, after all.”

Roux talked like that, occasionally. Like her life wasn’t complete without me. I didn’t know how to respond.

“Roux, let’s get some food.”

“Sounds good, my arcanist.”

We left our room and went to the central living area, which had a very wide dining table. Someone looking at it for the first time would have thought we had a dozen people living here. It was ten feet long, and five feet wide—practically a small boat. It was so Hyperion could eat at the table with us, which was why I loved it.

As always, Elias had left a plate of fruit on the table. There were berries and agave leaves, but the prickly pears were my favorites. The bright pink fruits grew on cactuses, and they were delicious. Unfortunately, I had to pluck the spines out first.

I grabbed the fruit and pulled the needle-like spines out three at a time. In my haste, I pricked my finger. A red bead of blood appeared on the tip of my finger.

“Agh! Curses.”

My cry of irritation echoed through the empty house. Elias and Hyperion always left early in the morning for fresh food and other supplies. If he was here, Elias probably would have laughed at me.

Elias said I should take the needles out one by one, but that was so slow!

Roux chuckled. “Pricked again? My arcanist, wouldn’t it be easier to have some of the berries? At least those don’t have spines.”

“But the pears are so good,” I groaned, telepathically sending over my irritation. “They are way sweeter than the berries!” I worked through the pear again, tearing it apart as fast as I could. “Why doesn’t Elias just pluck these? I don’t get it. He brings them back each time, then just leaves them on the table.” The faster I went, the more I hurt myself. With gritted teeth, I powered through it.

Arcanists healed themselves faster than normal individuals. The magic in their veins helped to mend all injuries—especially minor ones from prickly pears. I would be fine. It was just… so irritating.

“Perhaps it’s part of your training,” Roux replied.

I grimaced. “Right. If I keep getting these spines stuck in my fingers, I can eventually use them as a weapon.” I swung my hand around. “I’ll grab my enemies and prick them, too! Amir the Human Porcupine will be the greatest arcanist ever.”

After plucking out all the spines from the first pear, I tossed it to Roux. Her ears went straight as she leapt to catch the freshly plucked pear. Her hooves slopped against the stone floor with each movement.

With the pear in her mouth, Roux tilted her head to the side. “For me?”

“I’ll take the next one,” I said.

She nodded, though she waited for me to finish pulling out the spines out of the second pear before starting on her own. The moment I took a bite, the pain in my fingers melted away.

Prickly pears were delicious.

They were like… superior watermelons. And I loved watermelons. I had them only twice in my life, but each had been its own glorious experience. Prickly pears were even better, and every time I took a bite into one, I closed my eyes and allowed the flavor to wash through my entire body.

They were the best. Worth every prickle.

After the first serving, I went back for seconds, painstakingly plucking the spines out again. I would eat them for every meal if I could.

Roux turned to me when I finished eating.

“Let’s get started on our training.”

I nodded to her. Then, as a pair, we walked into the deeper set training room. Elias—well, MasterElias—said that I needed a wide-open place to study martial arts. He said it was important to treat my body like a weapon that needed sharpening. I was never sharp enough. I could always improve.

The training room was set apart from the others. Taller ceilings. A large floor. Stone pillars were erected in a few places to hold everything up. The glowstones cast an inviting orange hue over everything.

A weapons rack was propped against the wall. I grabbed two of the wooden sticks—they were heavy, and short, and made from wood that didn’t splinter, according to Master Elias. Then I practiced my footwork and strikes. I would stand with my feet apart, for a steady stance. Then I’d swing my faux weapons.

When I made a mistake, Roux was there to correct me.

“Remember,” she chided. “Elias said to twist your hip.”

Right. Twist my hip.

Master Elias said I had to master all these stances and motions before I could move on to anything substantial. It felt like I had to wait for everything. My prickly pear, my training—my adulthood. It was frustrating to think about.

Roux clopped around me. “You’re not focusing. Stay in the moment, Amir. That’s how you become great. Your mind and body work together on a single project.”

Focus. I had to focus.

If my mind and body operated as one, I’d be deadly. At least, that’s what Master Elias said. I tried to wrap my mind around my stance and my strikes.

One.

Two.

Three.

I kept going. More strikes. Better footing. Sweat poured down my back and face.

Fifty-five.

Fifty-six.

Roux watched with her blue eyes, her beautiful white scales shimmering, even in the dull orange glow of the magical stones. Her observation kept me honest. I couldn’t miss a count or just stop because I was tired. I didn’t want to let her down. I had to keep going.

Roux wanted me…

To be a great arcanist.

Sometimes, when I swung my training weapons, I imagined striking raiders. If I was strong enough to stop them, I would be happy. I didn’t need to be the strongest ever. Just… strong enough.

With gritted teeth, I wondered what it would be like to go back in time and save my mother from the East-Sea Raiders. Too bad no arcanist had the ability to time travel. That would be amazing.

Even if Roux gave me that ability, Master Elias said I couldn’t practice my magic just yet.

People didn’t normally become arcanists until they reached adulthood. I was much too young—I was only eight. Master Elias was afraid I would hurt myself, or my kirin, so he said I should focus on the physical first, and then I could go to the magical.

“You’re doing a great job, my arcanist,” Roux telepathically said.

“Thank you.”

For hours I pressed on.

Until lunch, really. The moment my stomach growled, I happily stopped with my training. I returned the weapons to their rack and headed for the stairs up—my legs burning with each step, but I pushed that all aside.

A familiar sound echoed throughout the underground home. The loud scrape of stone on stone, followed by a slam. It was the front door—a circular stone that rolled in and out of place. Only Hyperion seemed t move it with ease. Elias could, he just struggled at times. The door prevented the hot air and sand from getting into the house. As long as we kept out the heat, the cool temperatures from the deep underground water helped keep the place livable.

“Let’s go meet them,” I said aloud.

When I tried to hurry my step, my legs almost gave out in protest. Roux clopped to my side, her crystal horn glittering. “You should rest.”

“I’m fine.” With a grunt, I forced myself to stand straight on the stone steps.

Roux stood on the step just below me, her ears leaning back. “A man peddling a raft as fast as he can is at risk of smashing his vessel on the rocks. A man who takes him time avoids such perils.”

“But one makes it to the riverbank first.” I hopped up the last of the steps, and with a powerful huff, I headed for the front door.

“Kids…”

Elias and Hyperion were in the kitchen, unloading their packs they’d brought back from town. Elias always appeared grumpier than usual after going into town, but the moment he spotted me entering the kitchen, he softened up and half-smiled. “I see you’re panting and sweaty. Did your eldrin keep you training all morning?”

“Roux didn’t have to tell me,” I said as I crossed my arms. After a deep inhale, I continued, “I did what you said. I’m learning.”

“Uh-huh. Let me see a defensive stance.”

I spread my feet and dropped my center of weight. Master Elias nodded once in approval. His syrocko drake watched from the corner of the massive kitchen.

“What about an agile stance?”

I shifted my weight to the balls of my feet, so I could pivot and move faster if needed. Again, Master Elias seemed pleased.

“You might be ready for the next step.”

With a smile, I asked, “Really?”

He only nodded.

“Oh, when do I bond with my second eldrin? Today is my birthday, after all. Maybe it could be my present?”

Technically, arcanists only bonded with one creature—ever. But that wasn’t true with kirin arcanists. They were a special creature that allowed their arcanists to bond with one other. Kirin magic was said to be one of empowering, so kirin arcanists were at their best with they had a powerful mystical creature to boost to even greater heights.

Someday, I would have two eldrin.

I couldn’t wait.

“You’re much too hasty,” Master Elias replied. “About everything.”

“I can handle it. Kirin arcanists are special, right?”

Apparently, if a normal arcanist attempted to bond with a second mystical creature, they would die. A mystical creature fed from someone’s soul—slowly, steadily. Like a leech that drains blood from a person. Eldrin didn’t consume too much, but if there were two, the arcanist would waste away, like someone starved to death. Or someone consumed from the inside out by too many leeches.

But not kirin arcanists.

“Roux bonded with you because she’s a kirin, and they don’t care about your age. But other mystical creatures don’t tend to bond with anyone until they’ve come of age. You need to be fifteen.”

That made sense. Eight years old was too young to impress other mystical creatures.

I groaned. Elias got irritated when I complained too much, but the good thing about having a telepathic eldrin was I could silently complain at any time. Roux never seemed bothered by my words, either. “Do I really need to wait until I’m fifteen to find my second eldrin?”

Roux chuckled. “Imagine waiting four hundred and seventy-two years for your first arcanist.”

I laughed. That definitely put things in perspective. With a smile, I said, “Alright, so I just need to wait another seven years. I can do that. Then I’ll just go out and find the strongest eldrin, and then I’ll become an unstoppable arcanist.”

Elias shook his head as he spread out the food for lunch. Rice and fish. Always rice and fish. “It’s not going to be that simple. Like I said, kirin are a special case. Other mythical creatures have a Trial of Worth.”

I Took a seat at the table. “Oh, I know. I’ll just pass one of these trials, and I’ll be good.”

“It isn’t that simple.” Elias held out his hand and flames fluttered out from his palm. He cooked the fish without any spices—just heat. Once charred on one side, he flipped it over to the other. “A mystical creature’s Trial of Worth is difficult. You can’t go into thinking you’re just going to pass.”

“So, they’re all challenging?”

Elias nodded. “That’s right. Each mythical creature has their own challenge potential arcanists must face before bonding with them. Not only that, the challenges are harder the stronger the mythical creature is. There are plenty of people who go their whole lives without passing one.”

“So how am I going to get good enough to pass a Trial of Worth?” I asked, though part of me already knew the answer. I stared at the table in front of me, wondering how all my strikes and stances would help.

Elias smiled and then motioned to the cooked fight. “First, grab some lunch. Then we’re going outside. The desert is a harsh teacher, but a fair one. Once the sand is done with you, there won’t be any Trial of Worth you can’t handle.”

CHAPTER FOUR

Training in the desert was harder. I had to wear protective gear, but even then, my skin burned and darkened, and I had to make sure I drank enough water.

Sometimes, I didn’t realize how much time had flown by until I noticed subtle differences in my physical capabilities. I grew taller. Stronger. So did Roux. She was… a fully grown horse long before I was a fully grown man. The day I started riding practice was interesting. She moved like water, as fast as the wind, and my body felt as stiff as a stone at first.

Thankfully, Roux wasn’t a normal beast of burden. Every day, when we went out into the sands, she would help me. Soon, it was second nature to hop on her back and head out into the Sunset Desert.

A lonely place with no people.

Just me, Roux, and the dunes.

Two and half years of practice really paid off. In all that time… I hadn’t seen another individual. No one. Master Elias and Hyperion were my sole family. Well, and Roux. Sometimes that thought amused me, and other times it made me sad. Today, I pushed it from my mind.

“Quickly, Roux! I can handle it!”

I held onto my eldrin with all my might, my legs squeezing her sides.

Hyperion’s shadow snaked over the desert sands. He flew high above us, taking Master Elias farther ahead. Roux and I raced along the dunes, unable to fly. My clothes fluttered around me—baggy pants, a tight vest, and a head wrap to protect my ears and eyes from the harsh sun.

Roux chuckled. “Don’t fall!”

I laughed along with her.

Roux was so fast. But delicate. Speedy.

Every so often, her hooves sank into the loose sand, but I shifted confidently to make up for the uneven ground. It felt like we were one.

The familiar desert became a blur. Stones and cacti streaked past us. In the distance, something small hopped back and forth—likely a jackrabbit, but perhaps some kind of small mystical creature.

It didn’t matter. I was only ten years old. Ordinary mystical creatures wouldn’t want to bond with me for another five years.

Hyperion slowly flew towards the ground. Roux and I met him during his descent. Master Elias clung to the spines on Hyperion’s neck like a veteran drake rider. He held himself with confidence, and even with the sands buffeting him, he didn’t lose balance.

At the last second, he leapt off and Hyperion glided to dune below, like a leaf slowly descending. Syrocko drake arcanists manipulated the wind like experts.

“Here we are, Amir,” Master Elias called as Roux came to a trot next to him. “Are you ready? Today, we’ll start a longer-term training project.”

I couldn’t help but remember the first day I met Elias, when he’d introduced me to his home in the middle of nowhere. He liked surprises. That much I was certain of.

Master Elias motioned to a large wedge of stone jutting out of the desert. It created a plateau devoid of sand. Like a stage. In the center, alone and forgotten, was a single boulder. Elias hopped up on the rock as Hyperion flew around us, chasing anyway any vultures.

I followed my master. Roux, too. When her cloven hooves hit the stone plateau, she made a delicate clopping noise that was different from when she clopped around our home. I smiled at her. Her horn glittered brightly in the daylight.

“This here,” Elias said as he approached the lonely boulder. “Is your new assignment.”

I glanced around. “What is?”

“This rock, obviously.”

I stared at it, then stared at Elias. “Um, are you going to move it? Is there a secret training area?”

Elias laughed, slapping the rock playfully with his hand. “This rock is the training! Come. Strike it with your palms.”

I frowned. “My palms? Not weapons?”

The outside of the boulder was rough and almost porous. Where had this boulder even come from?

“Well?” Elias said. “Strike it with an open palm. Come now.”

I was familiar with punches, chops, and grabs, but Elias had never taught me to just slap things. I held up my hand and stared at the lines across my palms. Then I frowned.

Elias nodded. “Yes, your palms.”

“But… How will this help my fighting?”

“This lesson isn’t about fighting. Hit this rock with your palm.”

I walked over to the boulder and full-on slapped it with my right hand.

“Yow!”

I jerked my hand away and shook it out. The rock wasn’t just spiky, it was hot! There was a small cut on the side and my palm was turning red.

“Are you okay?” Roux asked. She moved forward, her head held tall.

I nodded. “Of course. I’m not going to lose to a dumb rock.”

“This isn’t about losing,” Elias stated. “It’s about smoothing. Do it again, but this time, drag your palm a short distance along the stone.”

I tried hitting it again, but before long, my right hand was sore. Not only was my palm red and cut, I’d also hit it hard enough to bruise the inside of my hand.

I scowled and took a few good hits with my left, but it didn’t make a difference.

The rock was still standing there, and my palms were injured. “Can I stop now? Or maybe I can kick it?” I eyed the rock. If I kicked it at the base, I might be able to topple it.

Elias shook his head. “Don’t you dare kick it. You need to hit this rock every day until it’s smoothed all the way around. And you can only use your palms.”

I raised my red and bloodied hands. “Are you kidding me? Why would I ever do that?”

The desert wind howled by, as if it was also disgusted by the training. Elias’s black hair was tossed around for a moment as he just stared at me. In a calm voice, he eventually said, “If your strikes are true, the stone will smooth.”

“Yeah, in like, years from now!”

Elias nodded once. “You’ll come out here several times a week for now on, all right? It’ll be great riding experience, and I can check on your progress by visiting this boulder. Only once it’s smoothed all the way around, will I consider it complete.”

It still seemed insane to me. I glanced over at the boulder, and then back to my hands. Roux just tilted her head.

Elias wouldn’t lie to me…

So I guess this was my new training, now.

***

“Alright, Roux. I’m twelve and a quarter years old now. Two years and three quarters later, and I’ll be of age, and we can get that second eldrin.”

I rolled to the side of my bed. Roux rested in the corner, atop her plush blankets and surrounded by baskets of grass and hay. She rarely ate, though. She said that magic kept her full and healthy, and I wondered how true that was.

“Two years and three quarters,” she telepathically replied, her voice lyrical and beautiful. “You’re keeping close track, my arcanist.”

I laughed and rolled my eyes. “Come on, Roux. You’re so old that you only keep track of the hundred mark at this point.”

Roux laughed. “That’s not true. I waited centuries for you, and I’m just as eager to meet our destined third. It’s just that I think of things in terms of decades rather than months… After a while, everything blurs together.”

To Roux, all of this was a short period of time, but that didn’t change my thinking. It still felt like an eternity until I could find my second eldrin, pass their Trial of Worth, and become the greatest arcanist ever.

“So, hear anything from Master Elias?” I asked.

“No. He’s in town getting supplies. I saw him leave with Hyperion. He probably wants you to smooth the rock until he gets back.”

I smirked and then glanced over at the dragon scale on my bookshelf. It was white. Daytime. “Getting supplies, huh? I bet he has a secret lady in town. That’s why he’s making me spend so much time hitting that dumb rock. It’s just a distraction.”

“I don’t think so. Elias isn’t the type of arcanist to engage in flirtatious behavior.”

“Yeah,” I muttered aloud. “He’s only got two emotions: angry and disappointed.”

Roux tilted her head. “My arcanist?”

“He just… doesn’t seem happy with me sometimes.” For years I did what he wanted, but it never seemed enough. I rolled onto my back and stared at the stone ceiling. “Do you think he hates me?”

“Elias doesn’t hate you.”

“How do you know?”

“I know him well. Elias was tasked with helping me find you. We traveled the world once over for a long time.”

The stone ceiling was the same as it always was. Boring. Flat. Reddish in coloration. I ran my hands down my face. “I need to meditate.” I rolled off my bed, tucked the sheets around the hay mattress, and then took a seat on the floor.

No negative thoughts. I couldn’t start my day like that.

After a deep exhale, I cupped my hands and held them in my lap. Then I dispelled all the negativity I had toward Master Elias and my situation. I needed to focus. Perhaps smoothing the rock wasthe best course of action.

Roux watched me the whole time.

As soon as I had cleared my head, I stood and smiled.

She did the same. “Excellent. You’re prepared for the day.”

I rubbed my nose. “I’m prepared for anything.”

“Even a sandstorm?”

“Especially a sandstorm. Nothing can take me down.”

Together, we exited our room. I grabbed my pack, and some prickly pears, and then I headed for the front door. It was closed. When I got close, I took a deep breath and then slid my fingers into the hand groves. With all my strength, I spun the circular stone door open. Bits of sand rushed inside, along with a wash of heat, but I kept my eyes shut and just ignored it until I was outside.

Roux followed me, and then I rolled the stone door back into place.

Hyperion made it look so easy. I was winded afterward.

Then I climbed on top of Roux and pointed in the direction of our training rock. Before she took off across the dunes, I secured my head wrap over my ears and face. The sands were rough, and if we went too fast without protection, the little grains would cut right into my skin.

The desert was unforgiving.

Together, we headed straight for our destination. The sun was rising, the heat climbing with it, so we couldn’t stay out too long. I’d get an hour or two with the stone before I had to turn back for home.

As we rode, I patted Roux’s mane.

After years of striking that rock, my hands had grown permanent callouses. At first, I thought my hands would become stiff and unusable, but the heat of the stone, coupled with my arcanist healing, left me with leathery palms. They were soft, but thick, and durable. Very few things cut—or stung—whenever I touched them anymore.

Roux brought me to the stone plateau in the middle of the desert.

I dismounted, climbed up, and then went straight for the lonely rock. One half of it was smoothed. Years of my “training.” The northern side was still jagged, however. I walked over and struck it a few times, just prepping myself mentally for the task ahead.

“You don’t even flinch anymore,” Roux commented.

I worked my way around the rock, smiling in satisfaction as my toughened hands hit the stone with loud smack after loud smack.

I grinned at Roux. “I’m relentless as the desert sun.”

“Yes, but you must remain as fluid as the shifting sands.”

“Don’t forget swift as the desert wind.”

If anyone could hear our conversation, I was certain they would laugh, but I liked hearing the poetic words. I wanted to be as strong and powerful and forceful as a desert. No one ever defeated a desert. It was impossible.

But I knew what those words really meant. It was about keeping an open mind and always learning from new challenges. I had to draw inspiration from all new experiences and grow even stronger.

I didn’t know exactly what this lesson was, but I’d continue working on it.

I smacked the stone again.

“As hard as this stupid rock…”