Nivara growled, annoyed she hadn't clocked the usurper over the head for that.
"You're late, Calvaros."
Just as she had spoken her informant's name, the illusion lifted and there before her was a full war battalion fit to take over a good chunk of Opalis and then some. If they so desired.
The Ravenback Moles were infamous for their stealth and cunning, only choosing missions that benefited their clan, kinsmen and creed to protect all who took shelter with them. Even lowly outlaws like the Tempest of Caldor were acquitted under their colours.
They wore varying colours of cyan and indigo warpaint, their spears aloft but barely visible against the desert nights embrace. Only the leader of the group dared to dismount from his Spiritwalker, his hooked mask and cloak depicting the ravens they idolised so much.
"I have stated my claim. I believe it is only courtesy to state yours."
Nivara rolled her eyes at the formality, the current commander's stickler nature never changing no matter how many of his kin was in his company. She eyed the semi translucent beasts, their forms whirring the sand into a quiet frenzy.
The subtle shifts of her mist told her another soldier had moved without their commanders orders, attempting to use their black fur to hide their bumbling clawsteps. Still pissed after Calvaros had unreservedly used her first name in front of his entire squad she ignored it, seeing no need to warn such a competent leader.
"My claim is to myself, Squad Leader. I am led by my own actions not by the eyes of the Fatekeeper. Perhaps you would know what that’s like if you kept a better eye on your soldiers."
As if she had predicted it, a girlish scream echoed around her secluded camp, causing the group of Tinker Moles to murmur restlessly. Calvaros' anger was almost palpable as he raised a claw for silence but Nivara had no intention of letting him waste any more time.
She stalked around the back of her tent, the sound of swearing muffled by the partially soundproof canvas, her dagger tight in her grasp. Nivara's flaring Trait kept the Squad Leaders fury at bay, her footfalls silent as she entered her hideout.
"A dragon always lies..." She called out the first half of the password, ignoring the whining baby of a Tinker Mole.
He was slumped over against the closest tent wall, clutching his bleeding neck as he stained the canvas with his blood. The Tinker Mole continued to curse in Nocturian as a livid dragon twice the size of their mounts bared her teeth at the intruder.
Nivara worriedly scanned the room, lowering her weapon and stance to try and alleviate the situation. Knuckle Burst dragons were known for their temper especially when cornered and the added addition of Willow being abused was a delicate concoction.
"But...but not without intention."
She barely caught the voice of the young Fire Traited still huddled within his sleeping bag beneath his protective Agar. Willow's belly was low to the ground, her collar fully extended in outrage as she bared her bloodied teeth at anything that moved.
Nivara knelt down slowly, eyes transfixed on the dragon as she discarded her dagger. Ever so slowly, she pulled down her hood and gently offered a hand to the Agar and her partner.
"Stand down, Willow. You did exactly as you needed to. Well done."
The dragon growled, Sleek's anxiety towards her slowly helping her snap out of her enraged state. He reached out to calm her, stroking her neck until her collar and anger lessened in size.
Willow looked at Nivara completely ashamed by her own behaviour but she smiled reassuringly at the dragon. She was well aware of what wrath that could occur from an overprotective partner.
Once Nivara was satisfied leaving Willow mothering Creed she turned to the sizable crowd of Ravenback Tinker Moles. The injured one had staggered to his feet with the aid of two others, waving them aside despite him still clutching his wound.
"What in Hell's name is that creature still doing here? It dared to attack me, the Raven Lords-"
An axe handle buried itself in the back of his head, immediately knocking him out cold.
"Get this indrada outside and patch him up before he gets us all killed. If he disturbed the Morrosai we'll have more than Hellgrind to pay." Calvaros ordered, his claws embedded in the accusatory but detachable axe.
Nivara's mouth tweaked upwards as his officers gave a claw crossed salute, dragging the idiot outside to leave them be. Calvaros sighed, disconnecting his weapon with an unceremonious 'thunk,' removing his raven mask and bowed apologetically to the group.
"I hope this royal idiot does not affect our arrangement?
She shrugged, deciding to rescue a pot of tea brewing outside on the camping stove before silently directing the duo outside to have a private conversation. Calvaros immediately relaxed as he pulled over two makeshift chairs. Nivara balanced the cups and poured the tea with her Trait, her ethereal mist casually passing it to him.
"The only reason I brought the fool is because he’s next in line to be chief. The Raven Lord sees promise in him, Leaffa knows why."
He collapsed into his chair, sipping his tea to try and quell his fury. Nivara sat beside him, her Trait acting as a suitable table. She knew it had to be serious if he was willing to tarnish the name of the inventor who had created the Labyrinth over a single one of his kin. Tinker Moles were loyal to a fault.
"So he’ll be retiring soon? I never thought Rayner was the type to provide a successor, considering he’s an elf and all.”
The Tinker Mole snorted, knowing full well how she felt about elves. After all, he had been the one to heal her many scars when he had freed her as a child. He was her only friend in the desert wasteland but she still didn't appreciate him calling her Nessra in public for all to hear. That name had died alongside her family.
“I’d rather betray my kind to the Taishin than train Noir as our Ravenlords replacement."
Nivara almost spat out her tea, realising how serious he was.
"The Ravenlord believes that after the last clan war he should ‘prepare for the worst.’ Hell’s teeth, he’s even convinced the Fatekeeper to pass on her knowledge to another and she’s been with us for decades!”
She allowed him to rant, trying to get her past with the Taishin out of her head. Nivara sympathised with both sides despite her bias about the elves; she knew that the war against Tarragon was not easy.
Nocturus had tried to remain impassive but once Neridia tightened their borders they had no choice but to defend their own or ally with them. But once the war ended and the anti demon barriers were constructed they decided to opt for peace at the cost of allowing the barriers to segregate them further.
They needed to rebuild after the war and for that Nivara couldn't blame them. The Dominion, the name the Caldorians had given their own barrier loomed above them, only now deserving of her attention. The fact she had forgotten it was even there was what scared me the most.
"But it is rare for a Traited such as yourself to ask for a request for aid. You normally escort them to our territory and no more. Why now?"
Nivara placed her half drunk cup on to her table, crossing her legs thoughtfully but in fact she felt a bit apprehensive. Ever since she had sworn in as a Mist Maiden she had decided to rescue as many families or abandoned children as possible.
Many had decided to make their own path across the border, seeing her as only a child who had donned a costume or a traitor who had abandoned them for the blue cloaked clan. But ever since the borders were closed off and Opalis had introduced a far stricker regime of allowing immigrants, Tempest’s way of bypassing the rules had become more necessary as the years went on.
"Creed has no family left after what happened in Shuriken. His parents were on the border when it happened. Mine were taken from me during the demon attacks. I can't abandon him with his Trait as it is."
Nivara couldn’t help but fidget in her seat, trying to ignore how close she was with Creed compared to the last time she had trusted someone. Long before Calvaros had become part of her mission she had escorted people to the Labyrinth alone as their bodyguard and had vowed ever since then to never get too close.
But Creed needed her more than any other orphan or refugee before her and if she wanted her plan to succeed she needed him to trust her. After all, he was the Timekeeper. If anyone could teach him about his Trait it was her. Even if she wasn't entirely sure what his Fire Trait did.
"The Fatekeeper will be glad to have your assistance, no matter how long the storm remains. We are grateful for all you've done, Tempest. Even if Caldor is not."
Nivara smiled evenly, acutely aware of her storm rumbling above them and Calvaros' intuitions. The people of Caldor weren't very grateful to Tempest after the Taishin overtook their own capital. But she didn't want to think of that.
"How is Anirri? I was sure she'd turn up for the border check last month." Nivara asked, casually changing the subject.
Once the Dominion emerged, the Tinker Moles had done monthly checks to see whether it could be broken. She had gone once or twice as privately hired backup and it was the same for Fatekeeper Anirri.
They had met on equal ground despite their duties and became good friends after attempting to dent an impossible anti demon barrier to no success. Anirri had used her Forger Craft to blast it from underneath while Nivara tried to slip by it with her mist.
Calvaros had tried to micromanage and suggested using their Trait or Craft in various ways along with several unnecessary rules and formality checks to keep peace. They proceeded to use their gifts of fire and mist on the Squad Leader instead. Calvaros was not best pleased but the two ended up bonding anyways.
Nivara couldn't help but chuckle at the memory, pouring herself the last bit of tea. It was a shame Anirri was so busy managing three different clans of varying Tinker Mole races and their leaders.
"The only reason she has not attended herself is that her compass is in need of training." Calvaros explained, smiling knowingly before draining his cup.
"Compass?"
He didn't reply, deciding instead to remain elusive with his open ended answer. Nivara narrowed her eyes, deciding to mirror his silence but still curious over the Tinker Mole saying. Was he talking about a moral compass? An actual compass or even a person's name? Tinker Moles always had to be so cryptic and confusing.
"I hear your apprentice is a fine cook." Calvaros said, changing the subject expertly as ever.
"When he doesn't mix up a dandraleaf for a fogleer, yes." Nivara retorted, snorting at the thought of the 'death by stew.'
The Tinker Mole laughed heartily, his claws slapping his knee at the comparison.
"No wonder you chose the Undercity for his new home. Creed may make a good alchemist if cooking is not his passion, no?"
Nivara smiled sadly, the thought of Creed leaving so soon made her throat swell up with emotion.
"Of course."
The Squad Leader inclined his head, acutely aware of her sorrow but not wanting to dwell on it further he tried to divert the topic.
"Twenty four across the border, Tempest. That is not a feat to be taken lightly."
"Technically, below the border. But yes. It's a start." Nivara reminded him, a tad harsher than normal.
He couldn't help but chuckle. Calvaros knew it would never be enough for her to help the damage the Taishin had caused. The Tinker Mole sighed, deciding to move onto business once he realised how little tea was left. The teapot began to rattle and the Tinker Mole's curiosity soon got the better of him.
Calvaros stared inside the empty teapot, glancing at the Mist Maiden solemnly before taking out an unfamiliar stone in the centre. It was a grey marble like texture with a carved raven within it. The Squad Leaders eyes widened in recognition at the indigo glow of a Nightspell rune.
"The boy...I take it he is your request?" Calvaros asked, daring to lower his voice despite the already active rune silencing their conversation.
Nivara nodded solemnly, grateful for stashing the Ravenlord's rune safely within the hidden section of her pot. She had removed the divider with her Mist Trait before the last dregs of tea had been poured for herself.
That way, the rune remained intact and protected from water regardless of what kind of dragon was eavesdropping on their conversation. Willow might be small but no one could escape the detection of a Mist Maiden.
"He deserves to have a place free from being hunted. I am not that. I never have been. I'm a stopping point."
"A wanderer." Calvaros added, unaware of the implications of such a title.
Nivara couldn't help but wince, the thought of her adoptive mother travelling through the desert sands alone but content. Her heart ached to see the dragon again, knowing full well that Odi embodied the title more than she ever could.
"Exactly."
Nivara smiled sadly, her eyes beginning to water but she accepted the title graciously. The canvas divider burst open, a blinding blaze of flames coiling around the duo as Creed burst into the room, his Trait alight with all manner of emotions etched on his face.
"No, Master! No! I won't go!"
Calvaros picked up his things and darted to the nearby exit, giving Nivara a worried look as he went to go find his battalion. She gave him a tight lipped smile, fully aware of his prior commitments and set to work on the rising smoke of burning canvas.
Immediately, her mist began to smother the flames as much as she could but they were determined to extinguish everything in sight. The clay teapot exploded in a spray of shards, forcing Nivara to cover herself with her cloak. She had to get to him before they both suffocated.
"Look at me, Creed. Look. I'm right here. You need to breathe, OK?"
He was unconsolable at this point, crying heavily as his Trait became uncontrollable that even Willow couldn't stand to be near him. Nivara could feel her own control over her Trait overwhelm her at the sight of his sorrow, the storm brimming over just enough to make it start raining.
Steadying her breathing, Nivara processed the situation at hand and wielded her Trait like a whip to dismantle the metal supports of her transportable home. Flinging as much Trait as she could at the roof the canvas began to steadily fill with mist like a balloon and sluggishly shifted away from them.
The Mist Maiden collapsed on the sand, exhausted as the torrential rain began to soak her cloak and cause her to shiver against the cool night air. She could hear the sound of sobbing and the steadily crackling flames that died against the oncoming storm. Caldor hadn't seen rain in years and Creed was the one who had finally made it happen.
"You said we'd stay til you taught me about all the plants. I don't even know half…"
Nivara sighed, spotting the blackened and shrivelled up leaves he had spent days trying to perfect. Picking herself up off the ground, she steadily made her way towards the Fire Traited and sat beside him. The entire encampment had been lost in a sea of smoke but right now, her heart ached for the boy without direction or purpose.
"Yes you do. I know you do. Tell me what a dandraleaf does. It has four uses, right?"
Nivara dared not move any further, her voice even and kind while the dragon had burrowed herself in sand, eyes watching what she did next.
"It...it's good for thickening soup and stopping bleeding and...and…"
The fire began to rise up again at Creed's hesitation despite the coarse grains of sand stopping its ascent.
"Burns. It's good for soothing burns." Nivara reminded him, brushing his hair away from his face.
She pulled out the yellowish green leaf from her cloak, its ends singed but still intact and showed Creed her secret. Her mask lay at her feet, the pain searing her vision as the brand the Taishin had left on her face stung with conviction. She had been a slave, just like Creed had been to his father.
It was an ugly brand of oozing fire, a miscellaneous mark that only reminded her of chains locking her in place. She had been lucky not to lose her eyesight or have a Trait that could hide the pain. But the mask only did so much.
Nivara shredded the leaf with her Trait and placed her hand over her cheek. Creed's Trait had unknowingly caused it to flare up again with the rising heat. It was a wound that never closed. That was the price of her freedom. That was the price of killing a Keeper of Trait.
"But...your face?"
Creed's audible shock made Nivara flinch, the horror of being beaten for her injury causing her to grasp for her mask again. But his careful hand stopped her. He hugged her tight, clinging to her cloak for a fraction of a second as Nivara burrowed her face in his jacket, barely able to keep her anguish at bay.
"It's not your fault, Creed. I was hurt by the Taishin too. Just as much as you were. They used me, my Trait to create natural disasters for years, decades longer than I'd actually been alive. I was only a child and he did that to so many people and I…"
Nivara couldn't stop the tears from falling at the reminder of how she had been captured and forced to forget her abuse. It was before Odi had found her, before her memories of being the elves puppet and before she had realised who she was.
This time it was Creed who held her close and let his Trait reverse what he had done. Nivara sniffed, awkwardly shuffling away but she could feel the heat lessening the stinging for the first time. She sighed in relief, finally realising what the Timekeeper's Trait was for. It could heal what was broken. It could reverse what was known.
"Master? You said there were four uses of dandraleaf. I don't..I don't know the last." Creed asked her, yawning as he rubbed his eyes sleepily.
Nivara smiled at him reassuringly, offering her arms as he reservedly allowed her to help him up onto his waiting dragons back. Willow was still covered in sand but was now twice the height of Nivara. It was getting late. She had to let him go.
"When mixed with radistrips it creates a potent sleeping potion. It doesn't work on people who already want to go to sleep, though." She said softly, knowing full well the snack she had provided was already working.
Stifling a yawn, Nivara kept her mask in her hands for a little longer as the melancholy rain subsided. Stretching, she pulled the water away from the fabric just enough to avoid ruining its structure and turned it into mist.
Making a mental note to search for her remaining weapons and essentials, she could feel Willow's eyes on her burn scar. Using her mist to create the illusion of smooth skin she ended the unspoken question with a finger on her lips. There was no mistaking the dragon had recognised her. More importantly, she had realised what Nivara had done.
"You knew Creed wouldn't leave without you. You lied to him. You lied to me."
Nivara didn't confirm or deny it, deciding instead to keep a watchful eye on the horizon. The night was lit up with the blue flame torches made by the Spiritwalker kitsunes a mile or two away. Calvaros had no choice but to move downwind so their enemies didn't associate the smoke rising over the dune with them.
"Dragons never lie without intention. Neither do I."
Willow averted her gaze, knowing full well what she was alluding to but wouldn't dare utter it while her Agar was on his back. Her wings were arched in a protective stance but Nivara's knowing smile made her doubt her intentions.
"Where are we going? How can we even trust them, trust you after you…"
Nivara knew that it was Willow who suggested to frame Creed for selling her to the black market. She had threatened them to provide her with a way out and leave him in her place. It wasn't until her own partner betrayed her did she realise she did wrong. Ever since then she had vowed to protect Creed with her life to atone for her misjudgement. That was how Tempest had found her.
"You're going to an old friend of mine. You'll know who to trust if you use your gut. Just...don't use her full name on her, OK? Odi...she hates it as much as you do."
Nivara parted ways with them once they reached the camp, heading towards the cluster of Tinker Moles gathering her still smouldering canvas tent. They scuttled away immediately, claws over their eyes as if Nirvara herself was indecent.
Snorting, she pulled away the material to find her scavenged weapons burned and half broken. She ignored the shouts of Calvaros ordering his fellow Ravenbacks preparing to leave. Willow however, remained by her side until she was satisfied with her haul.
"I guess I should thank you, Tempest." She said awkwardly, scuffing her claws against the sand.
Nivara hadn't really cared about her campsite or her missing weapons. She just didn't want them to see her cry. Brushing the tears away with her sleeve, the cold facade of Tempest returned as soon as her mask went on.
Glancing at her last companion, refugee number twenty five she let herself breathe. Seeing Creed safely curled up within his dragons wings made everything a little brighter. Fishing out her grimoire she opened it and ripped out the healing herbs page she had copied over and crumpled it into a ball.
Placing it in his outstretched hand, she dared not cling to Creed any longer, acutely aware of Calvaros giving her one last salute before Willow joined them in the formation. Nivara took a breath and let herself admit her real name for the first time.
"You can call me Nessra."
…….
"Nivara Cross!"
Internally groaning, the soaking wet apprentice gave a halfhearted salute towards her commanding officer despite longing to avoid any more attention. Mesmer was known for her harsh but unusual training methods but her nitpicking over small details and her own ego was what prevented any discipline or trust towards the nobility. Nivara didn’t hate her but her fellow apprentices had more than a few choice words to describe the Regent of the Excelliars.
"Yes, my Regent?"
The no nonsense Fire Traited glared ominously at the incredibly tardy Mist Maiden, cloakless, armourless and barely prepared to start the grievous training she had agreed to participate in. Nivara ignored her growling stomach, the scarlet demon in red armour staring daggers at her. It was a shame Mesmer wielded a basic bitch sword as a Trait weapon.
She couldn't help but feel grateful that neither of their dragons were present otherwise this 'intimidation match' would've turned into a fight. Matching her Regents gaze she adjusted her posture despite how tired she felt and waited.
"Why are you forty five minutes late? You knew your squad meeting with our Throneholder was today yet you've completely gone past curfew. Explain yourself."
Nivara’s patience was already thin from having to deal with her dragon’s constant complaining on the flight back so seeing Regent Mesmer standing there smugly in her scarlet armour instead of actually being concerned for her charges was more than a little aggravating. But if there was one thing she had learned from living in Opalis was to hold her temper and channel it into something more constructive later on.
Mentally however, she was barely keeping things together, exhausted and trying to use her Trait to rid her clothes of as much water as possible. Thankfully, her mask was still water resistant.
"Ma'am. Hornet and I, I mean my second should've informed you I took the night watch yesterday. We were ambushed near Willowridge and were stranded there. I told her to go get reinforcements but…"
She allowed her shoulders to sink, looking down at her feet for a more subdued act as the sound of the other apprentices snickering made her face flush. It was far easier to act submissive and take the punishment instead of berating it but the humiliation of it all still stung.
Nivara's quiet fury became fixated on the chatting apprentices, sneering and pointing in her direction. Mesmer had set up a 'buddy system' of pairs acting as surrogate Captains and Regents by naming them as 'firsts' and 'seconds.'
Her second was a Lightning Traited called Hornet and had been her only friend since they had gone through the apprenticeship trials together. She was a wiry, snarky, dark haired teen a little younger than her but their habit of bending the rules had made them fast friends. But it seemed that had changed.
Nivara averted her gaze, the nobles from other houses making her nervous as they jabbed and encouraged Hornet for her part in the 'scheme.' She had been the oldest member in the squad of apprentices and had been immediately outcast along with Hornet because they weren't born in Opalis.
They were labelled as traitors or weaklings because no one wanted to learn the Caldorian way of fighting or the bait and switch tactics of both Tarragon and Shuriken parents. No matter what they did their allegiances were always tested. It seemed Hornet had buckled under the pressure and had used her new found status among the nobles to throw her in hot water. Literally. Fire and Water Traited rarely got along.
"You of all people should know that Willowridge is my home. If anyone would've known it was an attack it should've been me, yes? The other pairings informed me that you were out chasing shadows again! You put the lives of your crew for some rumour-"
"I don't believe the creation of Hellgrind was based on rumour alone, Regent Mesmer."
A sole woman entered the room, drawing all the light and the attention towards her in a single second. Her crystal white armour dissipated effortlessly as she steadily made her way towards the group. Her blonde hair was messily tied in a loose bun and trailed in an attempt of a braid.
Her partner rested on her shoulder, his white scales blending into her winter jumper. Despite Ethros' grumpy expression he seemed content as he snuggled around her neck. Mesmer's eyes went wide, immediately kneeling in front of her leader with her sword planted in the sawdust. She was the Throneholder of Opalis: Captain Aria.
"My Lady. Captain, I-"
The Light Traited smiled reassuringly, resting a comforting arm on her Regent. Her dragon growled despite his salamander size but the Captain scolded him and flicked him on the nose.
"None of that today, Mesmer. It's my day off, after all." Aria addressed her, her tone far more casual than they expected.
Nivara stood a little straighter, trying to avoid laughing at her fellow apprentice's slack jawed faces. Compared to their Regents strict schedules, seeing a higher up with a more laid back attitude was either a breath of fresh air or a severe case of whiplash.
"I was hoping to sneak into the kitchen to see whether they had any redderbie buns left but it seems you enjoy eating into your apprentices instead, Mesmeradith?"
The Regents face blazed as red as her armour at the sight of Aria's cheeky grin and the use of her full name. Nivara didn't know whether Mesmer was embarrassed or angry but either way, using the full name of a Traited took some guts. Or she was incredibly confident about her position as Captain.
"No, Milady. It's just Miss Cross here decided to…"
"To investigate a viable claim that something other than a few stray dragonlings might be nesting nearby? I remember you and I doing something similar back in the Undercity. What was it now...ah yes, the very first Truant." She said nonchalantly as if the very notion wasn't important at all.
Lady Aria cut her Regent off for the second time, Nivara growing increasingly stunned at Mesmer's submission and patience. Throneholder or not, that had to be annoying but she couldn't help but feel glad that at least someone was defending her. She had no doubt her peers would enjoy seeing Mesmer being taken down a peg or two.
"Granted, your apprentice could've arrived a bit more presentable but then again, flying from here to Willowridge in the middle of a storm is bound to give someone a windswept look. Don't you think?"
The Regents mouth tweaked in amusement and soon Mesmer began to burst into laughter along with her apprentices. Nivara just gave them a polite and bashful smile to comply.
"But yes, informing you sooner would have been a priority and thankfully her second of sorts had the sense to contact me first. I hope my tardiness on the matter wasn't too bothersome, my Regent."
The Mist Maiden went bright red as her second gave a sly wink at her, averting her gaze and decided to walk over to her classmates. They continued to jeer as she walked by but Hornet made it a point to walk over to her.
"No, not at all, Captain! We were just about to start drills when this circumstance about a black dragon sighting was interrupting our progress." Mesmer tried to explain, pointing at the accusing apprentice.
The hushed whispers of rumours being passed about sent Nivara anxiously turning away from the conversation. A black dragon was known for being a bad omen, that anyone who saw it would go mad and would immediately be sent to Hellgrind.
Her second gave her a gentle side hug, noting her awkwardness before breaking away into her more smug and confident self. It was a silent apology but Nivara knew that she meant it.
Nivara smiled, knocking elbows with Hornet only for her to retaliate as a way to say 'I told you I wouldn't let you down.' The sigh of relief overwhelmed the angry twist in her gut and she resigned herself to returning the gesture, smiling genuinely for the first time that day.
"You may as well get used to calling him by his name, Mesmer. After all, Night is not one to give you the same courtesy." The dragon reminded her, deciding to speak up against his Regent.
Mesmer let out a strangled hiss as if stung by a bee, the dragon lazily settled back into his Oathed and ignored his second in command.
"Of course, my Throneholder. I will keep that in mind when I slay him myself."
…………..
"You're late."
Nivara folded her arms, her bare skin displaying the white sigil of the Excelliars as if taunting her apprentice with its brilliance. Her cloak was folded up in a neat pile alongside her pack she carried for emergency supplies.
Waiting for her own tardy apprentice reminded her of her own training, her stomach twisting at the reminder of her own acceptance into the clan. Over the past two years she had eerily been compared to her own Regent.
"Sorry, Master. I lost track of time in the study hall. Did you know-"
The young Tarragon bent over in exhaustion, her words trailing away along with her breath. Cricket was a little skinny from her time travelling to Caldor and lacked muscle or stamina but her reaction speed and intellect far surpassed any other. It was time they stopped relying on brute strength.
"Guard up."
Nivara's command was met by a shaky response, Cricket's arms were up in a defensive but overall lacklustre attempt at a block. Her Trait lazily stayed behind her back like a long flowing tail but Nivara didn't have time for any sympathies.
Her mist slipped by unnoticed and swept Cricket's legs out from underneath her, landing her face first on the arkalite pavement. Nivara's mouth tweaked upwards, stifling her laughter as her very first apprentice picked herself up off the ground.
They were only two years apart but age didn't matter to a group like the Excelliars, only skill. Cricket had a good handle over her Haze Trait but her hand to hand combat was worse than a Knuckle Burst dragon in a snowstorm. It was Nivara's job to fix that.
"I was reading about the different ranks in the Excelliars and how long it takes to become a Master. You only took two years so-"
Nivara cut her apprentice off with a quick jab to her midsection, not wanting to dwell on her status or her time as an apprentice. Her Trait lashed out at Cricket like a whip but was soon entangled by an emerald green snare of her own.
Nivara retreated, calling her Trait back to aid her as she blocked a sloppy attempt to bombard her with Cricket's haze. Startled, her apprentice backed away but her legs were already encased in the indigo mist her Master was infamous for as Nivara aimed a savage kick at her head.
"So, you should probably read up more on fighting techniques instead, Cricket!"
In a burst of sheer madness, the Air Traited summoned her grimoire right as her kick slammed down on its open pages. With a grunt of exertion, Cricket trapped her Master's leg within the confines of her open grimoire and tried to reright her path but Nivara was too quick for her.
Twisting her body, she pivoted and landed square on her feet again, still wondering how on earth that had happened. It was common knowledge that grimoires could be summoned and used during a fight but never like that. She'd have to remember that in her next sparring match.
"But that's the thing, Master. I don't want to become one. The same way you don't want to be Regent."
Nivara shook her head, ignoring Cricket's one sided outlook on the ranking system reminding her of another Traited. Hornet. But she had died a long time ago and putting her personal feelings into training her apprentice wasn't going to help. Hornet was gone. She had to keep going without her.
"A Regent is only chosen when the current one dies, Cricket. We have an excellent one already. There is no need to speak of things that haven't happened yet."
"But Lady Hornet-"
Nivara silenced her with a hand, annoyed that her training had been interrupted for a futile trip down memory lane. Cricket meant well but she had no idea what she was talking about. Her apprentice cowered awkwardly, obviously feeling guilty for even mentioning such a thing.
Sighing, Nivara ran a hand through her hair and stopped at her braid before undoing her long hair. She pulled it loose as she gently began unravelling her hair from its tight coils and smoothed it out as best she could. Once she was satisfied she felt a lot calmer and could address Cricket properly.
"Go get some dinner before the canteen closes. It'll be sundown soon and I better not catch you in the library again or I'll have you up at sunrise before you can say 'jackanape.'" Nivara said sternly, giving her a smile just to cheer her up.
The tension in her apprentices shoulders immediately relaxed, making her laugh out of sheer relief.
"OK then. I won't be saving you any greevy pie this time, Master!" Cricket reminded her, giving her a knowing grin and a quick wave.
Nivara rolled her eyes, watching her apprentice half run towards the prospect of food. Returning the goodbye, she collected her things and reattached her cloak and shoulder guards just so she didn’t have to carry them. A wicked grin crossed her face at the thought of her apprentice arriving in the canteen to find none of her favourite pie left. After all, she was on the night shift this evening and had Cricket arrived at her training on time she would’ve been too busy to go back for seconds.
Chuckling while she walked, Nivara made her way through the grounds and steadily monitored the comings and goings. Ethros slunk out of the back kitchen window, redderbie jam staining his jaws. Another instance saw Mesmer, her very own Regent sneak out a large pitcher of wine.
As the sun went down Nivara decided to retreat towards the back courtyard, keeping her footsteps as quiet as possible. A loud rumble startled her, glancing at her hands as if her Trait had caused it by accident. But as she made it outside the rainstorm made it clear that this suspicious storm was not of her doing.
Hastily pulling up her hood she ran towards the only cover not bordered up or locked. It was a tall, ornate watchtower similar to the one's the Mist Maiden's had used to lure people into their service. She was too far from the main Opalace and everyone was asleep so she resigned herself to opening the latch and taking shelter in the Watchtower.
It was practically bone dry despite the large slats for windows and had been swept clean of any brick dust or grime present from its storage days. The normal gloomy atmosphere was mellowed out by numerous candles secured on various metal plinths.
A set of table and chairs were placed in the middle of the circular floor and it was set with flowers, food and a similar pitcher to the one Mesmer had borrowed. This strange setup made the entire room go from claustrophobia hell to a warm and inviting nook. Until the door closed behind her.
Nivara's anxiety towards the small space returned as the candles flickered ominously in response. Unhooking a dagger from her cloak, Nivara brandished it in fear and trepidation as the wind howled against the window slats high above in the roof.
"Hello again, Nessie."
Nivara flung her dagger behind her, the knife embedding itself in the thick wood inches away from the intruder's neck. Her hands shook as her eyes recognised but couldn't believe it right away. Her best friend, her second in command stood there as if nothing had happened. For the first time in two years, Hornet was alive.
"Nettie?"
Her voice failed her as it struggled to process the person in front of her. Hornet had the same quiet confidence from her smile to her stance and her green eyes were full of mischief. But they held her gaze much like a soldier would challenge their commanding officer or a dragon would threaten its captor.
"I thought you-"
"Died? No, no. Not without seeing you first, Nivara." Hornet said, cutting her off before she could assume further.
Shoving the uneasy feeling aside, Nivara hugged her old friend like she hadn't seen her in years. Then again, they hadn't. She still smelled of the spicy and sour notes of beesnap nectar and spicy nettlettes of her heritage, her new radical hairstyle complimenting the conflicting sides of Tarragon and Nocturus.
Perhaps that was the reason for her dyed hair, hacked short in the style of a mohawk intertwined with yellow and black accents. She had never represented her namesake of Hornet more until now.
"Mesmer, I mean our Regent said you died after an escort mission went wrong. I don't...understand, Hornet. What happened to you?" Nivara let go of her Regent, rubbing her eyes only to bashfully remember she had a mask on.
Hornet smiled evenly, the small scar on her lip making Nivara stare a little. Gesturing to the earlier setup she had seen, the Lightning Traited offered her to take a seat and listen.
"Sit, please. It might be easier to explain if you do."
Still wary of the storm and her prior commitments to remain on night patrol, she hesitantly made her way towards the table. Still anxious of being trapped inside, Nivara concentrated on the unknown factor and the promise of answers.
Sitting opposite her companion she noted the nostalgia of how they sat together like they did at lunch. Nivara eyed the redderbie buns longingly but restrained herself to be polite. But she couldn't help but stare as Hornet poured the two glasses full of what looked like redderbie juice.
Her right arm had been replaced with a mechanised version of a prosthetic, created by various bits of scrap metal, spare bolts and wires which created even more questions in Nivara's mind. But the pity she felt soon twisted into curiosity as her Trait gently reached out to investigate it.
"Don't worry, they aren't poisoned." Hornet said, laughing to distract herself from the stares.
Nivara blushed, trying not to make it even more awkward after mourning her friend for the past few years. Tucking a loose strand of damp hair behind her ear she avoided Hornet's gaze and stared at her hands instead.
"I know. I just ate way too much dinner. That's all. You said you had answers for me?"
Hornet settled back in her chair, sighing as she noted Nivara's shaking hands and gently rested her metal hand on her cold skin. Startled by its warmth, the Mist Maiden allowed the familiarity of Hornet's Trait to settle her nerves before the Lightning Traited began with something not even a Fatekeeper could've predicted.
"We found him, Nivara. We found Nightshade."