1 - Daughter Of The Storm

21 - Confrontation

34rth day of the moon season 2448

Azéna didn't know if it was due to the dream catcher or just a coincidence, but she was sleeping better and feeling more confident. That nasty disciplinary session had eroded her and since then she had suffered from anxiety, she who was normally full of zest. She often wondered how Arièlla had recovered from the experience, but she hadn't had the courage to ask her. They were now on friendly terms, but nothing more. Azéna had managed to get over her jealousy and so, and she had learned to turn those feelings into a friendly rivalry.

The negative side of this experience was the new image she had of Master Ruvior and Master Arahich. Before, these two fools annoyed her and she distrusted them, but now they horrified her. She avoided them as best she could and worried about the stolen artifacts, Serfantor and Gragèn. She thought she'd have a little more luck if she talked to Katanor, since he was more of a wimp than his older brother.

After classes, she sneaked away from Fayne and Teriondil to follow the younger Diramin to the border of Atgoren on the eastern side towards Sivèth, a human village. It was perfect, he was alone. Usually he had a few friends with him. He sat on a stump, looking up at the clear sky. He did not notice the intruder behind him.

"So Katanor, we're basking casually under the suns," she growled dryly.

"What?" asked the gray elf, who turned to check who was addressing him.

Azéna's patience already drained, she pursed her lips, irritated by this interaction.

"Do you know why your brother is forcing Gragèn to do his dirty work!?" she shouted, clenching her fists.

"W-what are y-you talking about?" he stammered, his voice jerky with obvious angst. "P-please, explain yourself. Now!"

There was a bit more ferocity in his tone, but Azéna was still not intimidated. He had grown up like her, privileged. This was his only source of confidence and it didn't hold up."

"Don't play the innocent with me, you stupid prince!" barked the angry rebel. "What does Serfantor want so badly in the Dungeon? What did he steal, gods damn it!?"

She was fed up with this bullshit. It had to end.

Her blood was boiling with rage and her promise to Fayne to keep her cool was getting hard to respect. For fear of being disciplined, they had agreed on one thing: the masters could not know they knew about the artifacts. They had to investigate on their own.

"You're crazy!" Katanor yelled. "Come on, my brother doesn't steal! You clearly don't know him. And if you're so determined, go ask him. You're brave, aren't you? He's at the skotar field. His training should be over soon."

"And you're a vermin!" spat Azéna. "You Diramins are so damn twisted! Go on, get out of here! I'll be happy to convince you if need be. Get out of my sight!"

The anger which dominated her voice had the desired effect. Panicking, the gray elf's eyes widened, his heart was beating frantically and he scurried away.

"Chicken shit," Azéna muttered irritably. "Ah, well... I'll just have to wait for our dear Serfantor. I guess it's gonna be quick one-on-one talk then..."

With little time left, she went to her destination in long strides, cursing, frustrated that Tyrath had gone hunting with his adoptive mother and that she had not been able to benefit from his help. Fortunately, he would be back soon.

Once at the skotar field, she sat in the front row of the bleachers and watched the scene carefully. Fourteen players, seven pairs of dragon and rider were training there. Their silver and purple uniforms were adorned with a dark sword and united them under a proud team emblem.