The Tale of Tara and Emiko

XXIX. Emiko

Weeks passed. I tried to stay loyal to Zia, only interacting with Tara and Scoria when necessary, but it didn't feel right. What was Zia going on about?

I'd talked to Selene, and she said to give Zia some space. She didn't trust Tara, that much was clear. But Selene and I couldn't see the problem. Sure, Tara's dragon was powerful. But so were all Anailes. And this nonsense about Scoria really being a dragon that went extinct centuries ago? We were sure this was one of her phases, like her "wyverns are real mutations hidden by the government" phase, or her "there's a dimension out there dragons don't exist and are just creatures in fairy tales'' phase, or even her "the dragons we befriend are secretly planning a rebellion to wipe out all human life and reclaim the planet for their own" phase. That didn't last long.

Of course, that meant we still had no explanation for what Zia claimed to have seen. But maybe there was a sadistic, wild dance of Ubonihs living in Tara's backyard who enjoyed pranking others. Either way, we didn't have the time to worry about that. Not when I had battles to worry about!

Battles were a fairly new concept, having been created only a few decades ago, but they were already deeply embedded in the customs and ways of the dragon tamers. In school, now that I'd finally passed that blasted test, we were being taught to train our dragons to fight without dealing or sustaining irreparable damage, the requirement of battles. The victor was decided based on whoever stepped out of the boundaries first, which were not only marked on the floor but also extended up in the air, creating a sort of "ceiling". Essentially, we had to learn how to force a dragon over a line without hurting them or interfering in any way.

Quite a lot harder than it seemed.

Battles were optional and not required to live a good life (that rule's for you, Amraks), but were highly recommended if you wanted to get just a little more respect from the people around you. Ranks were important. Some colleges would take a look at them when considering your application. And all I knew about my first opponent was that it was also their first battle, nothing more.

The battle grounds were vast and daunting, one of the largest buildings in our city. Looking around at the different arenas showcased on the TVs, I noticed the boundaries came in every shape and size: circles, squares, triangles, stars, even random, organic blobs. I smiled.

Of course it would be hard.

After receiving my student ID from the front desk, I navigated the twisting halls to section 28. The room of my first battle.

"Shiitake-fricking-mushrooms," Zia muttered under her breath, having come to watch me.

"Hey-that's my line..." Selene's voice trailed off as she saw what Zia was looking at.

Tara Grey and Scoria of the Anailes.

I walked up to her, holding my hand out, which she shook confidently. Not as my friend, but as my opponent.

"May the best trainer win," she whispered so only I could hear. I nodded in response, smiling. We both know the outcome of this wouldn't ever affect our friendship, right?

But, as Zia and Selene went to sit with the spectators, I saw Tara walk over to her friends on the other side of the simple square arena. She talked loudly, boasting about how good of a team her and Scoria were. Her friends mirrored her confidence, laughing and grinning. I felt left out, even though these were Tara's friends. She had hers and I had mine, so morality says I really shouldn't feel jealous.

Why did I, then?

The audience quieted as Tara and I took our places on opposite sides of the arena, outside the boundary. Lenora stepped into the square, alone, Scoria staring her down with a glare strong enough to melt rock.

"Lenora of the Dlofneps against Scoria of the Anailes!" an announcer called, officially starting the match.

Scoria instantly went on the offensive, dashing forwards with leaps and bounds. Lenora, startled, reflexively stepped back, her tail coming too close to the border. I nearly shouted at her, then bit my tongue, avoiding breaking the "no trainer involvement" rule. Thankfully, the Dlofnep regained her confidence and jumped up, leaping over the Anaile in a graceful arc and landing on the other side of the snarling dragon.

The Anaile ran forward again, determined to forcefully shove Lenora outside the boundary...until a wall shot up in front of her. The crowd grimaced.

Turns out Anailes don't have good brake systems.

I sighed, softly laughing to myself. Of course it would be dangerous.

Lenora carefully hopped up on one of the rising platforms, watching Scoria shake off the surprise attack. The spaces between the volcanic dragon's scales glowed white hot, the Anaile enraged. She flew up, her wings coming within centimeters of the uppermost boundary, and dive-bombed Lenora, desperate for victory. Smoke trailed behind her, slipping out from beneath her teeth and her nose in her rage. She wouldn't be ridiculed again.

It was a blink-and-you'll-miss-it moment.

Lenora's eyes widened, and the ethereal glow associated with every Dlofnep faded for a second. The lights in the room dimmed and winked in and out, flickering. The shadows grew larger. A black haze, almost like a dense raincloud ready to spill over with watery tears, enveloped the already terrified Anaile. She backed up, clawing at her eyes.

Then the lights flicked back on, the shadows receded, and Lenora's scales resumed the steady glow that they always should have. Everything went back to normal.

Except for Scoria. There was a shadowy mist still coating her eyes, which were not skittish and fear-filled. She roared a string of curses in Dragon that would've made even the drunkest sailor proud, slashing at some invisible enemy the rest of us couldn't see.

Taking advantage of the distraction, Lenora slipped around Scoria's thrashing form and hooked a claw around her wings, sliding her talons into the sturdy scales, whipping around gracefully and pushing Scoria over the border without so much as a scratch on either dragon. Scoria, still preoccupied with her phantom pursuers, snarled furiously, flecks of fiery spit peppering the ground as she refused to accept defeat. Thankfully, Tara was there to calm her dragon, but she didn't do so without shooting an acidic glare my way first.

I'd never seen a battle over so quickly, and by the looks of it, neither did anyone else. The roar of applause filled the wide room. Tara stormed off, frustrated, Scoria slowly trailing in her footsteps. I opened my mouth to say something, but she was already long gone.

Looking back on it, what the heck would I have said if I had the chance? Would I apologize? For what? Winning? Would I have congratulated her? No, that could and would be interpreted as pity. Would I ask her if we were still friends? No, that was the worst idea of them all, making me seem desperate or manipulative. I could barely hear Zia and Selene's voices as they hugged me, ecstatic. I barely had the strength to smile. Lenora nuzzled my hand, worried. I'd won a battle but lost a friend.

What now?