Chapter fourteen - Arrogant dragon prick

Aurum arena is nothing I imagined. In truth, I wasn't sure what my mind had conjured it could look like. But it certainly wasn't this.

The discordance of crowds from higher levels drift into the large arena opened up to the sky. Freya then drags me to sit beside Link onto the stone benches going in concentric circles and down towards the sanded pit. Across from it, my gaze centers on the balcony where the queen leans her back against a beige pillared throne.

Even shielded from the mid-morning sun, her golden gown shimmers as she turns her head to speak to Venators in each corner. The General sits on a smaller throne next to her, overseeing everything as he glares towards the pit.

For just one second, I allow myself to think of Lorcan. He'd watched me enter the carriage outside the barracks and when I'd walked past just as he led a horse to the stables. Since the night of Adriel and Oran's attack, we'd exchanged glances. And more so, each time we did, that unfamiliar sensation filled at my chest like pressure had been added and breathing made it all impossible.

"Did you guys know the Golden Thief robbed one of the stores on Chrysos district the night of the Rumen attack?"

Blinking, my head snaps to the left at Rydan, forcing us to scoot further as he drops by Freya's side.

"How did you find out?" Freya asks. "And since when do you come and talk to us?"

"Since now?" He says, making a face of disbelief. "And Frey-Frey, I know everything. Besides, he left a coin behind and strangely a necklace." My eyes go round as he sighs pensively. "Sir Longford was not happy his Jewelers was broken into."

At least Sir Longford didn't have to deal with an arrogant dragon prick that—

"Imagine coming face to face with the Golden Thief." Rydan leans back, smiling. A shadow casts over half his face darkening his warm brown skin. "I'm not sure if I'd shit myself or ask for him to sign one of his posters."

I refrain from a roll of the eye. The Golden Thief would likely love the second idea.

"Solaris, I'd freeze on the spot," says Freya, slumping her shoulders and gazing widely.

"I'd run away." Link shudders. "He's too dangerous."

I snort at that last part, causing them all to turn their heads at me. Clearing my throat over their sudden frowns, I say, "I don't think he should merit from a grand title like that. You know what is dangerous? People who despise strawberry pie."

They all blink like I've gone mad. Perhaps, but I didn't want the Golden Thief winning even in conversation.

"So, you think Shifters aren't dangerous?" Freya asks slowly.

"Of course, she won't think that," Rydan drawls. "She once killed a Rumen without remorse, stood before an Ardenti—" He grins, throwing back what I'd said to him after he'd irked me. He really is a nuisance. "—Caught the attention of the queen with her impressive knife skills and is the daughter of the one and only Nathaniel Ambrose."

Heads turn at the mention of my father, and I look away, but a pair of hazel eyes further down meets mine from up here. A woman no later than her mid-forties in layers upon layers of thick tunics. Amethyst crystals clip back her vicious and beautiful black curls as she narrows her gaze, tilting her head like she knows me, yet I'd never seen her in my life.

A frown creeps onto my forehead as she breaks off our stare and I return to Rydan still going on about remorse. I shoot him a tight smile. "I'll show no remorse by throwing you in the pit."

"Now that would be classified as murder."

Shrugging, I answer, "A murder with a worthy cause."

He twirls strands of Freya's curls in his fingers, and she flicks his hand away, but he doesn't seem to take notice as he regards me with a contemplative gaze. "Is that the same thought you had for Adriel and Oran?"

I tense at their names, as does Link. "I forgave them," I mumble.

"Wow, Ambrose, I never took you as the forgiving type."

"I usually don't like doing it," I grit. I didn't want to stoop to Adriel and Oran's petty level. Idris had always taught me to forgive, and I'd always disobeyed. For once, I felt good doing it on my own.

A long pause between the four of us breaks out that this would be highly awkward if it wasn't for the racket of people. That is until Link smacks his lips and says, "So, Chrysos streets... Golden Thief. You went up that way, Nara. Did you witness anything?"

"No." I tuck my lower lip. "Well, except for an odd little creature." Not a complete lie, at least.

Freya smiles. "What kind?"

I describe the orange fur-coated critter and how I'd wanted to trap it. By the end of it, the three are gaping at me.

"What?"

"You tried to capture a Tibithian?" Link gawks his blue eyes at me, and it's the most expressive I'd seen him be so far.

"What on earth is a Tibithian?" I'd never heard of such a thing.

"They're the rarest form of creatures!" Freya's voice takes on a rather excitable edge. "All are born from elemental fire plants near Helland volcanos up north."

My brows lower, gathering that piece of information and recognizing how the lands of Zerathion separated into what they deemed the four elements. Emberwell, fire, Terranos, earth, Undarion, water, and Aeris, air. History is told that when Zerathion was created, the power of the sun and moon fell onto a small island named the aisle of elements. Situated at the center of our continent and parted by the ocean of storms and sea of serenity.

And every year, a festivity named Noctura falls on the same day of the summer solstice, where we celebrate the release of magic, it projects up into the sky, supposedly to help all of our lands maintain their elemental balance. When young, I'd watch the bright colors of yellows and oranges glimmer like stars, coating the velvety night with my brothers, eating and dancing along our village market square. This year is different though because I wouldn't celebrate it in my village, I'd be celebrating it in the city.

"They're supposed to aid the fields and crops, which is why no one captures them," Freya carries on, and I blink out of my thoughts. "Save for certain people living in the Draggards who enjoy slaving any creature, be it good or bad."

That must be why Ivarron had never told me of these Tibithians, but he usually never cared for any creature.

"I'd like to know how one got to the city," Rydan says. "Maybe I could befriend it, so it brings me food." He pats down on his stomach.

Freya gasps, frowning at him. "Solaris, no! They are sweet—" Her words drown out as soon as the crowds' cheers increase and all our heads whip to the pit. People start exchanging gold coins with each other until the queen raises her hand, and shouting becomes mere whispers.

"Oh my," Freya breathes just as grates groan open from both ends, and I suck in air when two dragons emerge into the pit. The crowds silence becomes ecstatic once more as roars bluster like a storm sweeping from the grounds towards us in a breeze. I look at the long thick chains that attach to their hind legs, preventing them from flying up but still accessible to move around, to fight.

That is where I'll be facing my trial, on that same ground, likely against dragons too.

I chew on my bottom lip, staring at both, circling the other. A low rumble vibrates the grounds, and then velvet specks of shadow wrap around one of the dragons. An Umbrati.

My gaze instantly cuts to the other dragon, much smaller in size compared to the Umbrati. Its body is leaner and sharp at the head, where large fiery eyes glare at the Umbrati's muscular physique.

Female... it's a female.

Not only is it that, but the scales, faded colors of reds, almost feathery implies it's young. But when it opens its muzzle and projects fire, I recognize the dragon.

It's the one that attacked our village. The one Venators captured because of me, and if the Umbrati was older and a male then— "It's an unfair fight," I turn to Freya with wide eyes, she simply frowns back. "The Ardenti is a fledgling, barely an adult compared to the Umbrati. It will lose."

Freya glances between me and the pit as people around jeer on the Ardenti. "All the arena fights are never fair, Nara. They won't care even if it was a young whelp," she answers, slightly wincing, knowing there's never a choice.

And something I wonder why on earth I cared just then, but I did—I do.

Whirling my head to the two dragons, I lean forward, anticipating what can happen next, what skills the Ardenti might use against the Umbrati. They pounce at each other as chains rattle and dust the sand into the air. Their tails thrash, making it harder to see which has the upper hand. It's clear they'd been riled up beforehand. Their primal rage dominates the whole arena.

They topple with the Ardenti latching its maw onto the neck of the Umbrati. For minutes It's a constant back and forth as the Umbrati manages to throw the dragon off.

The crowd shoots up from the benches at that, waving their gold as the Ardenti gets up on its hinds and the Umbrati darts to the left, rounding and spewing black shadows from its mouth like sharp blades. The Ardenti successfully dodges each one that I almost rise myself to just peeve those betting against it.

But that feeling is short-lived once the Umbrati catapults into the air. All eyes lift, watching the chain just about strain as it flaps midair and dives towards the Ardenti.

It happens too quickly that the Ardenti doesn't have time to veer out of the way as the Umbrati's claws come out and slice through the wings, pinning them to the ground.

"Oh, that ought to hurt," Rydan winces. Still, I ignore as the Ardenti yells out a painful cry, allowing the Umbrati to clamp razor-sharp teeth onto its neck. Blood, so much blood, pours onto the pit as the Ardenti stays rooted to the floor, and the other backs away with a snarl.

I stand all too fast that I don't care if anyone is questioning me right now. The Ardenti tries to rise, its torn wings slowly opening, but still, it falls back down on its side, blowing puffs of smoke through its nostrils.

Shaking my head, I stare past everyone else's quiet grumbles and murmurs. My face painfully frowning as the Ardenti's eyes flutter to a close.

Concern bangs at the surface of my ribcage as my fingers fiddle with the border of my thin cloak, tightening, wringing it in-between.

Get up, my mind frantically tries to communicate, fight.

I say it over again, get up, fight, get up, fight, and I don't stop just as the dragon moves its head and large serpent eyes open. It finds me in the crowd. It looks at me, looks at me as if it'd heard and recognized who I was from that day at the village too. And at that crucial second that I hold my vehemence to it, I repeat, fight.

A bawl from within it then slices across the air as the crowds' rioting sounds come on again. The Ardenti takes off, pushing itself from the arena walls to gain speed and atop the Umbrati.

It shrieks, releasing shadows as the Ardenti sinks its claws into its chest. And with strength brings that muzzle down to where the heart lies.

A wet crunch like bones splitting echo the walls, and then there's stillness from the crowd. The ardenti raises its head through the dust, stretching its neck as a roar followed by flames of fire unfurl across the air like it's a call of victory. But the Umbrati doesn't move, doesn't flinch.

Dead, it's dead.

"Is it over?" Freya asks, and despite not glancing at her, I know she had her eyes closed the entire time.

"Yes," Is all I can say in a stunned breath like I'd been the night the frogs went up against Adriel and Oran. "It's over."

Not a minute after Freya exhales, the crowd complains and yell, having lost money on the Umbrati as some start leaving and others get into disputes. My eyes slide from the pit to the queen. While the General has his regular cruel gaze on his expression, the queen is blank. Thoughtful, I'd even say, as she just stares at the Venators hauling the dragon back to what leads into the dungeons.

I don't quite notice anything happening around anymore. Nor do I hear Freya and Link saying my name until the third, maybe a fourth time, of them shouting it. They start descending the stone steps, and I glance at the pit a final time, with the memory of the Ardenti. All my life, I'd despised dragons. I wouldn't care if someone had said a dragon died, so why did I want to help this one? Why did an ache of sorrow drown through me even for the Umbrati's death?

I'm making my way down, squeezing past people when a clutch on my wrist jerks me back. I twist, gazing up at the woman who'd stared at me before the fight. The crystals in her hair glow a darker shade that it almost looks blue.

"Naralia," she says, her voice delicate and sweet, but her hazel eyes narrow into distress.

I try and twist out of her grasp. "How—"

"I knew your father," she says, and shock swamps me. "He spoke of you."

I attempt to get my words out, yet I'm mute as she expels a shaky breath glancing at everyone still heading out of the arena.

"Meet me today by the Draggards," she says, her voice faint and low for no one to hear, but just at the mention of the Draggards, my joints stiffen. "There's a tavern called the Crescent Eye." Her grip hardens but not enough to cause pain, and it's not intentional either. "Ask for Leira, and they will inform me of your arrival." She lets go, ducking her head as she pulls her tattered cloak up and blends through the crowd, leaving me no chance to say if I'd meet her or not.

Because one way or another, if she'd known my father, then she knew my curiosity was just like his.