1 - Daughter Of The Storm

19 - Weaving A Bond

31st day of the moon season 2448

Autumn had given way to winter. The leaves on the trees had all fallen and the branches were shivering in the chilly breezes. The dragons that preferred warmth, such as the red, brown and blue ones, were cranky. Those who were comfortable with the cold, such as the black and white ones, welcomed the change in temperature with infectious enthusiasm.

Fayne had never thought, even in her wildest dreams, that she would have the chance to see a family of dragons playing with their young in the fresh snow. It reminded her of her own childhood. Her father Lyran was quite the tease and loved to create fortresses out of a snow mound with her and then pretend he was a vile invader. Often, Azéna would join them, fleeing home, angering her parents. The two of them could give the teddy bear that was the tavern keeper a hard time. Bold as ever, the young Kindirah girl distracted him while Fayne prepared a strategy.

Most of the time, Saria, the mother of the chestnut-haired beauty, simply watched, a wide smile stretching her lips. Lyran was a big, broad man. When Saria encouraged the girls, he would carry her over his shoulder and tickle her until she promised to remain neutral in the matter. They had married for love and not for their lineage or duties and Fayne admired that. She had learned through Azéna that the most prestigious families did not enjoy this freedom and it had always worried her for her friend.

After a long playful fight, the family returned to their humble home for a comforting cup of tea and hot chocolate for the two little ones.

With the first significant snowfall of the year upon them, Fayne let herself be washed away by the nostalgia of it all, which also reminded her that Azéna's birthday was nearing. The next day in fact.

"I assure you that it is," a female voice insisted with concern.

The teenager's scrupulous attention to her karsayrethès notebook was suddenly redirected. She was walking alone in the labyrinth that was the Archlan Academy. She wandered when she wanted to study and Azéna and Teriondil made it difficult. She had been dedicating a lot of her time to her studies lately, even during her breaks, because the exam period was almost upon them, in less than a season. Gritting her teeth, she cursed her curiosity that occasionally distracted her from her occupations.

She turned a corner and emerged into the corridor where the classrooms were located on the main floor.

"Indeed, these are the items that were stolen," confirmed a powerful voice that echoed down the hall.

Fayne continued on her way, but she was also aware that she was getting close to the author of these insistent words. She had a hunch he was talking about a criminal robbery, which interested her because of everything that was going on with Gragèn and Serfantor, but she couldn't afford to be late for her introduction to draconic class.

"It's true," a second, softer voice assured her. "The Dungeon has been..."

"Be quiet!" a woman's irritated voice ordered. "Someone might hear us. We'd be wise to discuss this in the Mother Tower."

"Classes don't start for another fifteen minutes. The apprentices are still in the Hall of Archlan at this hour."

"Pardon me, but what was stolen?" asked a third female voice.

Fayne, close enough to discern that last voice, identified Fiara. She held back a frustrated sigh. After all, she could afford to waste a bit of time. She stopped next to the classroom door where the discussion was coming from and listened.

"The four Artifacts," Neige whispered, her tone somber.

"What of the other object?" asked Nymia sternly. "And don't repeat that name, or any name for that matter," she growled.