30. 30 #2
Aniah's been discussing the new spear she was given after her last one broke—apparently a sign of her ever-growing strength. I silently congratulate her, but my eyes remain on Carella.
Her squad of friends consist of finlings in a different group training for Current Two. Their names were never spoken to us, but they accompany her any chance they get.
“Heads up, Carella and her squad of sidekicks are headed this way.” Defymin’s eyes are locked on them too.
Carella’s voice rings out through the dining hall, turning many heads as they search for the cause of commotion.
“Oh look, the group of misfits and their human wannabe,” she hisses. She floats at the end of our sea-stone table, and though her words are meant for all of us, her glare never leaves mine.
“Carella, go away. Your taunts are losing their sting. We have grown to adore your attention.” Defymin chuckles slightly at his comment, thinking that will help the situation. I know it will only make it worse.
Her eyes shoot to Defymin, a growl escaping her lips, “You best learn to quiet that mouth of yours. Duels are quickly approaching and I cannot wait to destroy you during them. Show you what true power looks like.”
Aniah snickers at her comment. “Honestly, you would not know true power if it hit you in the face.”
“You three are a disgrace to the Neravyn name.” Carella spits, surveying our group, narrowing her eyes at us. “Why associate yourselves with a human wannabe?”
I hate that she asked that question, but it’s a valid one. I don’t feel as though I’ve earned these friends, if that is what I can call them. Maybe just companions? Or teammates?
“It's not so much associating ourselves as it is—” Keil interjects before Defymin can speak.
“—we trust the king’s judgement,” The twins say in unison.
“And you should too,” Aniah says, finishing the thought.
Carella sneers at their comment. “The king is barely present to watch his pet in action, so can you truly trust his judgement?” She turns her body with her hips, jetting out of the dining hall, her squad of sidekicks following close behind.
“I appreciate you two standing up to her for me.” The words feel surreal as they come out of my mouth. I've never needed to thank anyone for doing something like that for me.
The twins watch me intently in silence for a few moments before Keil speaks up.
“Look, the king is still new to being in charge, but when we start to doubt him, that is when things will fall. We trusted his father and he never failed us. Why should we not assume that King Thaldrin taught his son how to properly care for his kingdom and subjects? That includes if he thinks you are trustworthy enough to let you this deep into our barriers.”
Wow. That rewires my conception of them completely. A prickle races up my scalp as something in me goes on edge.
I had wondered if they truly trusted me or if it was something else. Though, whether they trust me or not, they chose to associate themselves with me rather than fall in with Carella’s crowd. So it’s not as bad as it could be.
“Keep in mind, Sarah, just because we choose to trust the king’s choice, doesn't mean we don't trust you.
You've proven yourself several times already,” Aniah starts.
“I mean you're a human who gained magical powers, survived the swim to Virellan, completed Current One, and now halfway done with Current Two and you don't appear to be slowing down. Those that are not fond of you come from the aspect of change. This kingdom has done the same things for centuries. You are new. You are a sign that the king is adapting to the situation. That frightens some of the kingdom; those not ready for improvement in Virellan.”
So they do trust me; it’s not just an obligation keeping them at my side.
It’s something steadier, something chosen.
The tightness in my chest eases, if only a little.
The thought lingers as the dining hall slowly settles back into its usual rhythm, the tension from Carella’s outburst fading into the background.
It doesn’t change everything, but it shifts enough to quiet the edge that’s been following me whenever Carella is around.
Tonight’s secret training feels more important than the rest. Tomorrow marks our first duel with our peers. A tradition Lord Zevrin said will continue weekly for the next month, sharpening us for the final challenge. Unlike the last Current, these duels allow magic.
Magic lessons have consumed every other day, from breakfast until long past the sea’s last light. No new powers have surfaced, which has left Orion impatient and tense. He insists on trying a new tactic first thing tomorrow, before the duels start. Am I nervous? Absolutely.
To prepare, Defymin and I asked Aniah and Keil to join tonight’s secret training session. They too confessed their nerves about tomorrow. Defymin pairs off with Keil, while Aniah and I hover to the side, observing.
Keil darts aside, evading Defymin’s strike, then angles behind him with a slash at his already-injured fin. Our weapons are dulled, practice-only, but the sting is real enough. Every hit reminds us how dangerous mistakes can be, forcing us to adjust, rethink, and counter.
We rotate partners, taking turns, each of us chiseling away at weaknesses. For me, without any new magic to lean on, I’ve had no choice but to double down on physical combat. My peers may still doubt me, but I refuse to fall behind.
Zevrin announced our pairings for the next month at breakfast. Each week we battle someone different. Every duel involves some kind of battle strategy we must learn.
For week one each pairing seems scattered.
Defymin faces Neiord, one of the weaker recruits.
Aniah and Keil received opponents whose names I barely remember, but their skills are intimidatingly advanced.
And me? I’m matched against Carella, the early defeat already ringing in my ears.
She's built strong, sharp, and relentless. Orion worries she’ll overpower me, unless some spark of magic appears that will shift my chances, which I doubt will happen.
And her continuous taunting during meal time doesn’t help my confidence.
When the training ends, we slip back to our quarters. Just before parting, Defymin breaks the silence. “Do you plan to use magic during your duel?”
I pause, uneasy with the question but too tired to overthink it.
“I doubt I can conjure anything new at this point. No fresh developments have occurred with Orion since the first time, and even then, it wasn’t anything I could use in combat.
I’ll just have to rely on my serpent form and hope the physical training is enough to hold her off. ”
He doesn’t respond. Just turns and vanishes into the dark of the sea trench.
I capture a glimpse of his dorsal fin. It’s split in two, halfway down, the cut section sputtering in the ocean’s waves.
His movements don’t seem to falter much, but his strength has moved elsewhere through his body to compensate.
A few years ago my team and I rescued a bottlenose dolphin.
She was badly injured after getting stuck in a trawler’s nets.
We hauled her safely to my lab where we healed her and after six months of therapy and medicine, released her back into the ocean.
However, her injuries didn’t come without a cost. By month three, we noticed her swimming patterns were not the same.
She could no longer swim with the same urgency and swiftness as her species.
But damn was she determined. We placed a tracker on her in case those injuries produced more damage.
A year ago, Leo found her tracking number close to San Francisco, and took a boat out to her and found her swimming with her pod, no issues to be found. I hope the same can happen for Defymin.
After entering my sliver of space, I finally stretch out on the stone bed, but my thoughts won’t still. Closing my eyes, I slip back into my locked penthouse.
Every time Orion tested my magic, he also pressed me to strengthen my barriers, using Nyra to probe for weak spots.
Only once did she break through, and only because I was distracted, chasing after the idea that some new ability might finally spark.
Nothing has. I’m just a glorified serpent-human trophy, apparently.
He taught me to tuck my thoughts completely out of sight, even when the “metal doors of death” stay unlocked. That first night, after he left me at the Drekaris gate, I tried it his way.
I slipped back into the familiar shape of my mind, my penthouse.
This time, though, I stretched it further.
Beyond the living room and kitchen, a hallway unfolded toward my bedroom, the one from the surface, antique set and all.
After several rounds of practice, I learned to place my deepest thoughts inside that room, locking it behind me whenever I left.
A double-locked method: elevator code and bedroom door.
But Orion warned me, even locked-away thoughts must be reachable in an emergency, though he never explained what kind of emergency. His advice? Create another entrance. A hidden way that leads only to that room, without exposing the rest of my mind. A hidden entrance only known to myself.
It turned out to be surprisingly easy. I created a fire escape, just like back home, that opened only into that room.
A hidden way in, mine alone. It gave me peace of mind knowing my deepest thoughts were still reachable if I needed them, yet the rest of my mind stayed locked away. Safe from nosy intruders like Nyra.
We Snapdragonis may not be allowed in Drekaris, but that doesn't mean I'm far away, human. And look at you, barriers down again. Sloppy.
Shit.