Heart Of Destiny_Book One Of The Heart Of The Citadel Page 8
“Then we will make an amazing team, maybe the best pairing of all.”
Beryl chuckled again. Already you vie for supremacy. I must admit, I am glad to see the training facility reopened after so long. Too long we sat idle. Were it not for the current crisis, we would still be ignoring our greatest strength. She stretched out her foot and her green claws extended, scales shifting and flashing in the low light. What is it you need? You did not climb all this way to bring me blankets. One emerald eye blinked at the tiny dragon.
Chryso shifted back to a human form and grinned. “I need you to prime the floor lighting. The lava levels are low and need an infusion of flame.”
More work. Always more work. I will do it for the girl. She blinked at him, owlishly. Then I am going to rest, if you don’t mind. Beryl pushed to her legs and walked to the edge of the opening then tipped off the side and glided down to the floor. She ambled over to a hole in the far end of the wall, just large enough to fit her nose into. She took a deep breath, let the heat build then shoved her snout into the opening and belched a long gout of flame that heated the rock around her nose.
At the far end of the vent, a thin vein of lava brightened, absorbing the heat and melting the crust that had formed. Lava flowed from the rupture, tumbling and falling, to fill the cavity and then a constant stream began to flow. Bits of char crumbled and fell into the liquid flame and vanished. It raced away down channels of obsidian, the lava spreading out under the cavern floor and down the passages, casting light up into the passages and warming the floor. The crystal tiled floor brightened and glowed from within, lighting the floor. Crystal sconces flared to life as the lava touched the veins that fed to their location.
Beryl gave another blast, just to be sure, and then flapped her wings to fly back up to her rook. Now, little Djinn, I am going to rest, she said as she re-entered the cave. She circled on the spot several times, like a dog finding the best place to sleep, and settled into place.
“Excellent idea,” said Chryso, and he curled up against her belly and slept.
Chapter 12
Dragon Games
OVER THE NEXT COUPLE OF DAYS, the balance of the chosen arrived at the training grounds. Once they were settled in their chambers, the Djinn assigned to each trainee returned, to introduce the young women to the school. They took them on long guided walks to the various sections of the mountain-based facility. In silence, the newcomers toured the ancient school, which was so different from the lives they had led in their native provinces. Little was said and few questions asked as they struggled to absorb not only the physical changes in themselves but in their surroundings.
The school was built with security and longevity in mind. The classrooms and training facilities were carved from solid rock to create whatever space was required. The smoothed walls were the work of dragon flame, the rock melting away under the intense heat. The early architects of the school had envisioned a world where the dragons would become teachers and the flying stadium was a lecture hall built for them, to teach the students not only how to team up with their dragon but also how to fight from its back. The dragons especially loved the battle training and helped forge the weapons to be used in combat. The humans built forges for the dragons, complete with quenching barrels and hammering anvils. The dragons contributed their flame and the magic inherent in their species to the weapon while the humans shaped it. But the weapon was of Djinn design. The flaming trident had long been the trademark weapon of the Djinn but was impossible to wield by humans due to their physical limitations. The weapon’s strength came directly from the Djinn and was nothing more than a fork in the hands of a human.
The humans soon learned to forge swords in the flame of the dragons, breathing into the tempered metal the heat of battle. To the merged human, it could become a weapon of flame, moving from a solid to gaseous state.
Fascinated by the arena, the young women began to talk to their Djinn, forgetting the strangeness of the situation, in the excitement of learning about the dragons. When they discovered that they would be trained on how to ride a flying dragon and also how to fight from the back of one, they gasped in unison. Flying lessons were on all of their minds from that moment on.
On the second day, Master Conteur, professor of history, brought them into his favourite classroom, which was actually the library off of his office. Once they were all seated in the overstuffed couches, he handed out a stack of books to each of the young women.
“You will find the complete history of both Gaia and Jintessa and a comparative compendium contained within those tomes. The aging process you have undergone plus the magic of this land has accelerated your academic learning abilities. You are expected to learn the history and geopolitical situation of both Gaia and Jintessa. From these books, you will learn everything you need to know to perform your future missions. You will find firsthand accounts of the killing of the dragons by a rogue Djinn, thought by some to be the inciting incident leading to the Great Purge, and the ramifications for the whole world. Study hard, for you must understand what it is you are being called to defend. Liberty and life go hand in hand. Tyranny can take many forms. Once you have completed reading the books we will discuss them in depth and you will be quizzed on your knowledge. You will not be released to fight until you have memorized its contents. The knowledge may save your life, and that of your djinn and dragon, some day.”
On the third day, the women were woken early and brought to the main dining hall for breakfast. As they passed the mirrored glass of the atrium, they were able to see their full reflections for the first time since their arrival. The tiny mirrors in their rooms had only reflected their faces back to them as they prepared for the day. Large mirrors were not permitted in Jintessa, as the Djinn believed them to be a portal to evil. All of the young women had aged into their mid to late teens. Shikara, the youngest to begin the journey now appeared of an age equal to her companions. As she passed the panes, checking out the flash of her silhouette reflected back at her from multiple angles, she giggled at all the new curves as the result of sudden puberty. Parisa, daughter of Tunise, also giggled, sticking out her chest for a better look. Shikoba glared over her shoulder at the childish sounds issuing from the pair, and then rolled her eyes. Nerves were running high for this was the day that their training would begin in earnest. The dining hall was vast, designed for thousands of students, with vaulted ceilings and tables set for groups of eight, the seating carved with dragons climbing the legs and the rungs of the ladder-backed chairs. Frescoes on the ceilings depicted dragons in flight, some in battle, some caring for young. In the center of the fresco, an Opaleye dragon stared down at them all, eyes fierce and the opals shining with life. They seemed to follow everyone through the room, wise and knowing.
The cavernous room was abandoned in favour of a smaller, more intimate dining room off to the side, normally reserved for the instructors. It still happily sat two hundred, and the students and Djinn took up one small table at the front near a raised platform.
As the young women settled around the heavily scarred table, serving staff entered from a side door, bearing platters of steaming food. Plates of eggs, bowls of porridge and berries, racks of crispy toast, and pitchers of cream were placed on the table, and then the servants withdrew.
Silence descended, as the young women stared at one another. Although this was not their first meeting, it was the first time they had eaten in each other’s presence. They did not know what to make of it. Eyes met then dropped. Silently, they reached for the food in front of them. Kara’s hand rose toward her mouth. It was a nervous habit she had not quite forgotten. Chryso grabbed her hand and pushed it down, winking at her, at the same time filling her bowl with porridge. Kara blushed, realizing what she had been about to do. She shook herself mentally, vowing to not slip again and smiled a grateful smile, linking her fingers in her lap.
Parisa, seated beside her Djinn named Corun, stuck out her hand to Shikara. “Hi, my name is Parisa. I a
m from Tunise. What colour are your dragon’s scales? Mine has purple! I love purple. It’s my favourite colour.”
Kara unlinked her fingers and shook Parisa’s hand. “I am called Kara. I am from Bastion. My dragon is Beryl. She has green eyes and scales.”
The other eight young women ignored the exchange, eating their breakfasts mechanically, heads down and avoiding eye contact, until a side door opened and a woman entered. All were immediately drawn to the regal woman, a new addition to the exciting but strange circumstance they found themselves in.
There were three things that were immediately startling about the newcomer. She was human with shockingly white hair that tumbled to her waist. She was tall and slender and dressed in silver armour that molded her shape precisely over a sleeveless white tunic and wide-legged pants that gave the appearance of a skirt.
The second thing that stood out was her tanned face set with eyes that glowed with ruby flecks, adding a fierce light to her countenance.
The third thing that immediately drew the eye was the dragon tattoo that ran from her bejewelled fingers up her arms, twisting around their length.
She paused at the front of the table and placed her hands on her hips. All eyes dropped to the table except for Shikara’s. She stared at the woman and smiled, for once forgetting about her thumb.
“Mama!” she cried, and the woman smiled at her.
“My name is Madame Cherise. I am the headmistress of this facility. Let me be the first to officially welcome you to the training Citadel of the Djinn, known as Dragon’s Lair.” She gazed around the table at the Daughters of the Heart, staring back at her with expressions that ranged from confused to defiant to eager. “I apologize for the lateness of my appearance, but I have only just arrived. I requested that the staff allow me to officially welcome you to your training. You have settled into your new accommodations?” Heads nodded around the table. “You have been given a tour, and have been issued your books?” More nods followed her statement. “Good, for your training will now begin in earnest. This sanctuary, “she waved her arm to encompass the school beyond the walls of their chamber, “is one of three known to mankind and the original. The other two were located in Bastion and Tyr. The Bastion Lair was destroyed during the Great Purge. The school of Melina was built on its ruins. The lair in Tyr is located within the Castle Ionia, as one of our members here should now recognize.” Elissa nodded, smiling.
“This is bound to be a confusing time for you all. You hail from different provinces and cultures. You have all grown up within those cultures with little to no contact with the other provinces, and so your education about the greater world is severely lacking. You are all now strangers in a strange land. This is by design.”
The young women shifted on their chairs, looking at one another, curious about where everyone was from. With some, the style of dress gave it away, as did their hairstyles. “From this day forward, you are not from anywhere. From this day forward, you are all Warriors of the Heart. You have been called, chosen since birth, to answer the call of the Heart. You are to be the blades that free the world from the chains of the Citadel and to return magic and freedom to the provinces of your birth. The Citadel is not what it seems. A great evil stirs within its depths. Ever since the Great Purge, magic has been hidden, lest it be wiped out completely. We were taken by surprise in those times. Betrayed by one we trusted, we were nearly destroyed. A remnant survived and went into hiding to preserve the gift. Once again evil is rising and this time we will be ready. That is why you are here. You will be trained in your magic and the magic of your dragons. You will be taught the triad bond and through this become stronger than you can possibly imagine. But strength of body and magic is not everything. You must also learn of your home provinces and their cultures and ways. You will also learn of your sister’s cultures. They are your first sisters now. Put aside your old hatreds and prejudices. This is essential for you must be able to trust them implicitly in battle.” Madame Cherise’s hot gaze rested on each girl briefly, compelling them to make eye contact and acknowledge her words.
“You have much to learn. Your education starts right now with a quick lesson about your Djinn partners. Djinn are not human. They are shapeshifters. They can take any form they desire from human to animal to plant, as long as it is a living form. They are intelligent and wise and so long lived as to be nearly immortal. When bonded to the intelligence of a dragon—this is called a Dragonmerger—the combined intelligence is beyond your own. You will learn to respect the Djinn as the mentors they are. Once you leave these shores, their lives will be in your hands, as they cannot live separate from your dragon. If your dragon dies, your Djinn companion will die, too.” Heads swivelled, staring at the Djinn scattered around the room. “They will die?” gasped Seraphina. Alarmed, she found herself reaching for the helmet she had unearthed, and her sphere. I will protect them with my life was the fierce thought that flashed across her mind.
“When breakfast ends, you will be taken back to your rooms by the Djinn assigned to you, where you will find that new clothing has been provided. You will dress and meet me in the main antechamber where we will begin your training. Now eat up. You will be sorry if you do not. Training days are long and hard. I will see you in one hour.” Madame Cherise left the table and walked to the door where the young women had entered and was met at the door by a thin balding man with similar white hair to her own.
As the door clicked shut behind them, the young women looked at each other again. Then Niloo, daughter of Samos, spoke up. “She reminds me of my aunt.”
“She reminds me of my grandmother,” said Jannah, daughter of Peca.
Selina, daughter of Wydra, pulled her crystal heart out from around her neck. “Do you all have a necklace like this?”
Around the table, each and every young woman pulled out a crystal heart and showed the others.
“Well, at least we have this in common,” said Shreya, daughter of Cassimir. “It remains to be seen what else we might share. I, for one, am very fierce and I do not quit.” She glared around the table at the others, in challenge. “I always win!”
Seraphina, daughter of Hindra, glared at Shreya. “We are all chosen. There isn’t going to be a need to be number one. This isn’t a competition. Were you not taught the significance of the hearts by your mother?”
“All life is a competition. It is all a struggle,” said Shreya. “And the weak die. My magic is just another tool that I will use to win.”
Shikoba’s steady gaze fastened on Shreya’s tawny skin, typical of her race, then her eyes traced the fading scar that split one eyebrow. “I will pick up your challenge, Cassimir. I am stronger than you by far. We will see who is weak.” Shikoba hailed from the province of Shadra.
Shreya glared back, and then a slow smile spread across her face, baring her teeth. She nodded, accepting the challenge. “We will see what magic you possess, Shadrian.”
A gong sounded the half hour. Realizing that time was slipping away, they fell silent and scooped porridge and toast into their mouths, quickly finishing before heading back to their rooms to change.
Half an hour later, they had assembled in the main entrance, dressed in identical training togs of a neutral grey, escorted by their assigned Djinn. Spying the headmistress standing on a platform on the second level, they took the closest staircase and lined up on a viewing platform built onto the landing. Wide-eyed, they took in the vaulted ceilings and dragon rookery. An occasional spurt of flame or an orange glow gave away which of the caverns were occupied. Once they were lined up, the Djinn left them, continuing to climb the staircase and branching off toward where their respective dragons were housed.
Madame Cherise waited with ill-disguised impatience for the gawking to cease, this time with a small Djinn woman at her side. She was dressed in a striped jumpsuit in lurid colours and had emerald green hair. The combination was riotous.
“This is Trainer Jade. Jade will be your instructor for dragon husbandry.
” The Djinn woman bowed to them in greeting, smiling. “Part of a warrior’s training involves dragons because they will become a part of your magic. Right now, you do not have the ability, but in time we will hone it and sharpen it until you can handle a dragon’s magic. Trainer Jade?”
“Thank you, headmistress.” She turned to the students. “Come closer. In this class, you will learn the different breeds, composition, relative strengths and weaknesses, and fundamental needs of a dragon. You will also learn to fly.”
The short woman stepped onto a platform overlooking the chamber and putting two fingers to her lips, whistled a blast that rang out through the chamber.
At the sound, dragons launched out of the roost, flashing into the air and diving toward the ground, gushing bouts of flame as they passed the viewing platform. The young women jumped back at the wave of heat released and flames that licked the balcony. With a nervous giggle, they crowded forward, eager to watch the display.
“Watch how the move, how they turn. A dragon is not a bird. Their center of gravity is completely different. If the dragon relied on the strength of its wings alone, it would crash every time. You must learn to move with it. See the rider? He is one with the dragon, a part of it. They move as one creature.” The dragons swooped and twisted, turning in the theatre and then with a final dive, landed to a puff of dust then walked forward so that they lined up in front of the young women. “The dragon that brought you here is the dragon you will be trained by, as is the Djinn rider. Make no mistake. The dragon will be training you, not the other way around. Now, go greet your dragon.”
The young women ran down the steps and at the bottom came to an abrupt halt. The Dragonmergers slid from the backs of the various dragons and waved at the young women, encouraging them to approach.
“They look so much bigger than they did in the dark,” whispered Niloo. Gathering her courage, she walked nervously over to be reintroduced to the dragon she had arrived on, a trip she had mostly slept through. The dragons crouched to bring their heads down to a level with the young women, docile as pets, tongues flickering out to taste the air and capture their scent.