1217-06-24
Mary Elephon:
"Over your months at Venedoma, I've seen significant improvement in you," the professor tells us, his voice cutting through the silence.
We stand at attention, the sun glaring down on us. "You are almost ready. You are almost perfect."
He says it with a sly grin, his expression masking something darker.
"Combat," he continues. "That is why we are here. That is why we become knights—to defend our country, to defend our visions."
The man I knew—Jay—has become a distant memory. A fleeting thought, lost in the future of our country. I tell them this, too. I agree with them. I lie to them all for survival.
Jay. The man I loved. I had resolved to become stronger, stronger than my sister. To free him. To create a world where opinions are allowed. Adrian Kundra's words—his books—still haunt my mind. They strike my heart again and again, like a melancholy song stuck on repeat.
I need power. It runs through my head as I fight. I train—day in, day out—through these months, improving my skills. With a sword, a spear, even with sticks—without weapons, even.
I have potential. They told me.
"You truly are like your sister," they said.
But I feel betrayed. Angry. I hate this palace, these halls, the professors, the king who would allow a young man to suffer just for thinking differently.
Over these months, I've read Adrian's books over and over. So much so that I've memorized them. They repeat in my head, over and over. I'm lost in them now, so much so that I don't even hear what the professor is saying.
These months have passed like days, the next chapter in a never-ending book.
"Mary," a voice calls. "The void repaired itself."
I salute the air in front of me, but the professor isn't there.
The voice is familiar. Agatha.
She smiles at me, though it feels forced—a fake smile.
As we train in the fields behind the school, Venedoma towers above us. We practice, going through the motions. Agatha and I have become in sync. It became hard to make progress. It's like a chess game where we anticipate each other's moves. The anger I once held toward her has slowly faded away.
I understand now. She wanted to protect me. I'm grateful to her for that.
I sit down to take a break as Agatha and Bran begin to fight.
Agatha and Bran clash fiercely, their movements fluid and calculated, each trying to outmaneuver the other. The sound of their weapons striking the air fills the space between them, a constant rhythm of challenge and counter.
I think, watching them. It's clear Agatha has improved significantly.
Bran falls to the ground, scraping his skin on the rough dirt. Agatha pulls him up.
"I'm so tired," he sighs.
"Can we take a break?" he asks.
The professor's voice calls out.
"No!" he yells at us.
"Why not?" Bran sighs again.
"You wouldn't want to end up like those in the Battle of the Rose," the professor replies.
"I would never be that stupid," Bran mutters, standing up again.
"Then continue."
A voice calls out from the distance, "What is the Battle of the Rose?"
The professor tells them that Ahk and Wara used to be on good terms, allies even, before their conflict tore them apart. Wara once created a city called Kima, a thriving place of peace and prosperity, a gift from Wara himself. But Aldric Kundra, driven by his desire for destruction, took his men and stormed the city.
"Kima was a fortress," the professor says, "almost impossible to break into."
He goes on to describe the battle that followed. The city stood tall. The earth soaked in red blood, a lasting memory etched into the land, as the red tint of the water from the battle remains to this day.
The professor adds that Aldric lost the fight, his men slaughtered, and he barely escaped with his life.
"He was dishonored for life," the professor continues, "and never fully recovered from the shame."
He shakes his head. "The pitiful thing about Aldric is that he was too arrogant and unprepared. It's not something you'd expect from a holy knight."
Someone then asks, "Why's it called the battle of the Rose?"
The professor says, "In the heart of the battlefield, a single rose remained untouched. Its petals, once white, were soaked in blood, turning a deep crimson."
This rose became a symbol of the peace that was lost
Since Marano didn't take part in the fight, I'm inclined to believe it, I thought.
The professor pauses, looking at his notebook in hand, the weight of his words settling in. "Since you're ready, and the Pacting ceremony takes place in two months..."
We all lean forward.
"Now that you're at a good place with combat, it's time to teach you about the powers that govern this world," he says, his voice growing serious.
"Those who cannot bond with dragons... are impure."
He gestures towards us.
"You will attempt to form pacts with dragons. Those who fail will be removed from the Holy Knight program."
Are there other powers, besides pacts with dragons?" I asked.
"No. There are only dragons, and only seven types worth noting." He lists them, his voice steady.
"Fire, Wind, Water, Ice, Earth/Sand, Darkness... and Light/Lightning."
And there's one more. The type from Tethambia, but they're all gone now."
"What was the Tethambian type?" Someone asked.
"Time," the professor answers. "Yet they died out long ago."
"You can bond with any type of dragon, but only Light and Lightning will be accepted as Holy Knights ... It's what you've been training for."