Nazari || An Empyrean Story

Chapter Five

Indeed, I stand corrected; Xaden Riorson doesn't resemble an old grandpa but more closely mirrors a familiar, worn-out sock: reliable and comforting during calm moments. However, when confronted with unexpected downpours, he transforms into nothing more than a bothersome hindrance, much like a soggy, uncomfortable wet sock. Something persists in the recesses of your mind but is always resurfacing despite your best efforts to push it away.

-Journal Entry by Arina Selene Adair

"That's my foot!"

"Don't blame me if your feet resemble dragon talons!"

"Take that back!"

"Keep your hands off my hair, you hulking sandbag!"

From a young age, Arina frequently found herself corrected by her mentors. In a land steeped in calm, her fiery spirit seemed almost at odds with the Dragons themselves. Though it took her considerable time to internalize the teachings of her people, at present, she was seething. Despite her years of training, her composure shattered, especially since she had unwisely entrusted Xaden with her combat instruction, only for their sessions to be marred by constant, petty disagreements. For the four months Arina had resided at the Riorson house, she had yet to figure out the inexplicable deterioration of the barriers. Meanwhile, Xaden had stepped in, proposing to guide her through the fundamental training customary for every individual in Aretia.

"I warned you about your hair becoming a hindrance," Xaden remarked, lifting the girl from the ground. Her braid had come undone, looking like a chaotic dragon's nest. He reached out to reassemble it but stopped at the sight of the displeased expression on the girl's face.

At that moment, Arina had reached her limit. Grasping a handful of Xaden's hair, she yanked him down until he was grounded, clearly in pain. "Hair is a vulnerability, regardless of its length. I don't see you shaving it all off."

The creak of the training room door interrupted their squabble. Liam entered, chuckling at the scene of his friend sprawled on the ground. While he hadn't been particularly close to Xaden during their upbringing, their bond had solidified over the years due to his father's frequent interactions with the Duke.

"If you're planning to bring a man down to his knees, at least treat him to a decent meal beforehand," Xaden groaned, feeling the impact of Arina's unexpected move that had sent him sprawling. 

Arina's eyes flared with realization, causing her to release Xaden's hair abruptly. A blush surged to her cheeks upon recognizing the compromising position they had inadvertently found themselves in.  Swiftly, she shifted her attention to Liam, striving to regain her composure.

"I can't recall the last time I saw Xaden down on a mat, not since his father ceased our childhood training," Liam remarked with a smirk, tossing a water bottle their way. "Oh, that reminds me they sent over more books for you, Arina. They're said to be from one of the Scribes in Aretia that still work at Basigath."

"Thank Zinhal, my limbs are crying," she exclaimed, brushing herself off before downing the water Liam had given her. While she appreciated Xaden's efforts in training her, his prickly demeanor often made her contemplate using him as a practice dummy or dragging him to his room to take out her frustrations, either way, she wasn't entirely sure which option appealed more at the moment. Despite his persistent teasing, the boy undeniably had a certain charm. However, Arina had more pressing concerns on her mind.

~~~

Engrossed in her new book for hours, Arina was jolted from her reading by raised voices emanating from the adjacent room. The expansive space, more akin to a grand library than a mere study, shared a wall with the council members' meeting chamber.

"Navarre is retracting their protective wards, abandoning our people to face an unknown threat," thundered one of the Elders, his voice resonating and causing a few delicate glass bulbs in the room to quiver. "Last year, it was just one of two cities; now, our wards are barely extending beyond our borders. The weakening is accelerating—we must act swiftly."

"If we expose this danger, Navarre will brand us as adversaries. Revealing the truth would be tantamount to treason," countered another voice, softer and laced with caution.

"The toll of lives claimed by this menace has been grievous. Should we be seen as foes, then so be it. Navarre must confront its own cowardice," declared the Duke, his voice carrying an authority that sent a shiver down Arina's spine.

The realization hit Arina like a lightning bolt. The wards controlled the hatchery boundaries. She'd always harbored suspicions about Navarre's leadership, especially given their potential involvement in her parents' disappearance. Yet, the recent revelations were staggering. If the protective barriers weren't native to the Vale but were influenced by the same arcane forces as those linking Navarre to Aretia, a myriad of questions flooded her mind.

Had there been a pre-existing ward in Aretia? If so, who had erected it, and why was it no longer in place? Who exactly was this concealed "threat" the council alluded to? And what motivations did Navarre harbor for concealing them?

With each question, Arina's determination solidified. She sensed that uncovering these truths was the key to understanding the faltering defenses. She was resolute: she would unearth the answers, no matter the cost.