Chapter Thirty: Ivalia

  Wings outstretched, extending motes of frost, Ash wasn't much faster than before. What the wings did do was emit hoarfrost, slowing any homunculi that approached. Pulling on his elan, he drew more elar and, with the now more manageable wooden soldiers, he easily got through them.

  The closer they got to him, the more ice coated their forms. Some of them were frozen outright; Ash crashed into those, shattering them into chunks of frozen wood that broke when they crashed to the ground with a fracturing sound that echoed across the stone. Despite his exertion, he felt little strain. The elar coursed through him like an icy river, granting him strength and clarity beyond what he had experienced before.

  He felt the weight of Amalia's violet gaze on him, analyzing his every move as he navigated through the training exercise. Each shattered homunculus sent vibrations through the stone floor, the impacts jarring yet oddly satisfying. The taste of winter filled his mouth, crisp and clean like the first breath on a frosty morning.

  A wooden sea of soldiers approached him like an oncoming wave over a rock. None touched him, for every time they tried, his wings would pulse, and vivid frost crystals would cover the wooden soldiers. The crystals caught the light, sending prisms of blue and silver dancing across the walls. The sound of crackling ice filled his ears as the frost expanded over each wooden form, transforming the homunculi into glittering statues.

  Ash felt a thrill of pride. This was his technique, born from his ice-aspected elan, and it was working perfectly. With each pulse of his wings, he could feel the bond between himself and Lilith strengthening, as if her draconic nature fueled his ice manipulation.

  He achieved the gray flag in no time at all. Walking through a legion of ice sculptures, he planted the flag in front of Amalia, who was eyeing his wings. Her face remained impassive, but he thought he caught a flicker of approval in her eyes, quickly masked by her usual stoicism.

  "Not quite what I imagined, but as I said, elar is different for everyone. You have succeeded," she stated, her voice betraying no emotion. She ran her fingers along her white staff, the strange markings catching the light in an almost hypnotic pattern.

  Lilith walked up to his side, face looking like a smug cat. Her green eyes glittered with pride, and Ash could feel her satisfaction radiating through their bond. The small dragon-girl practically strutted, her shoulders back and chin lifted in a show of draconic dignity.

  Ash took a deep breath, letting the cold air of his technique dissipate. His muscles ached pleasantly, and he could still taste the lingering chill of winter on his tongue. "Am I ready, then, for this exam?" he asked, barely containing his eagerness.

  "As ready as you'll ever be. Come, it is time for sleep. We reach Ivalia tomorrow." Amalia turned away, her black robes swirling around her ankles. The conversation was over, as abruptly as it had begun.

  Ash glanced down at Lilith, who sent him a thought-image of them triumphantly entering Wyrmhaven Academy. He smiled in response, his heart lighter than it had been in days. Tomorrow would bring them one step closer to his goal, one step closer to answers.

  Lilith walked beside him in her human form the following morning. She never strayed too far from him, but when he tried to hold her hand or pick her up, she would glare and hiss. Her pride would not allow her to be treated like a human child, regardless of her appearance. The sound of her displeasure was reminiscent of a kettle about to boil, high-pitched and warning.

  The Vynterium mountains were ahead of them. They loomed over all, jagged stone-like layers of darkness set into a canvas of white, blue, and silver. Dawning sunlight cast subtle shadows over the mountains, creating an awe-inspiring image. The peaks rose so high they seemed to pierce the heavens, their snow-capped summits glittering in the early light. The air grew crisper as they approached, carrying the scent of pine and cold stone.

  Lilith sent him an image of her flying at the top of those peaks, her dragon form soaring between the jagged spires. Her longing was palpable, a yearning that resonated within their bond. Ash smiled down at her, adjusting his sword at his side, feeling the comfortable weight of it against his hip. The leather of the hilt had begun to conform to his grip, becoming an extension of himself.

  "One day, we'll make it happen," he promised, his voice soft but filled with conviction. The thought of Lilith grown large enough to fly, with him on her back, sent a thrill through him. To see the world from above, to ride the winds between those majestic peaks...

  Lilith nodded as if the matter had been decided, and that was that. Her confidence was absolute, brooking no argument or doubt. In her mind, it was merely a matter of time.

  Ivalia was a town founded at the base of the mountain, just before the path that led to the valley Wyrmhaven had been built upon from the bones of a great dragon. The history of the place seemed to press upon Ash, stories of ancient dragon lords and forgotten magic lingering in the very stones.

  As they crested the final hill, the town spread before them, a tapestry of color and life against the stark backdrop of the mountains. Ivalia was far larger than any town he had yet to see. With Brilehaven being the only other town he had seen, that likely wasn't hard to accomplish. Still, the sheer scale of it impressed him, the sprawl of buildings and streets teeming with activity.

  Buildings of every color and architecture dotted the landscape. Paved roads crisscrossed in a pattern he couldn't discern, and people of all races bustled about. The market square was alive with commerce, shopkeepers calling out their wares while customers haggled over prices. The smells were overwhelming: spices from distant lands, roasting meat, fresh bread, and the ever-present scent of humanity pressed together.

  "This is incredible," Ash murmured, his eyes wide as he tried to take it all in. The farm boy in him felt small and unsophisticated amid such vibrant chaos.

  He saw dwarves with beards braided with metal and gems, elves whose grace made them seem to float rather than walk, half-elves trying to blend in while existing in two worlds, and then, most stunning of all, a visenium!

  She was willowy, with nearly translucent skin and liquid silver flowing through her like visible water. Her hair was reminiscent of storm clouds, and her eyes were like lightning bolts. She moved with otherworldly grace, as if the laws of the physical world applied to her only by her consent. Ash couldn't help but stare, having only read about visenium in books.

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  The visenium woman noticed his gaze and stopped, her lightning eyes narrowing dangerously. "Got a staring problem? I can fix that." She flourished a dagger, the metal gleaming with an unnatural light. The threat in her voice was clear as mountain water.

  "Sorry," Ash muttered, averting his gaze. He felt his face flush with embarrassment. So much for making a good first impression in Ivalia.

  The visenium woman scowled, her eyes flickering with literal sparks of annoyance. She walked past them, her movements fluid like quicksilver, leaving behind the faint scent of ozone.

  Amalia said nothing about the encounter, continuing to lead them through the winding streets. Ash noticed that many people gave her a wide berth, perhaps sensing something in her demeanor that warned against casual interaction.

  Eventually, they came to a simple two-story dark wood building. A simple sign outside read in white lettering: Adventurers Guild. The wood looked weathered but well-maintained, speaking of a place that had seen its share of history but was still very much alive.

  The sound hit him first as they approached the door: laughter, arguments, and the clinking of tankards all blended into a wall of noise. Amalia, Lilith, and Ash entered to raucous noise, the atmosphere inside thick with the smell of ale, sweat, and leather.

  "What do you mean, only three silver! Those goblins are worth way more!" A burly man with a scar bisecting his left eyebrow was leaning over the counter, his face flushed with anger.

  A human woman with chestnut hair and dark brown eyes looked bored as if she had grown regularly accustomed to this routine. Her fingernails tapped an impatient rhythm on the wooden counter. "For the fourth time, it doesn't matter what the goblins are worth. The job was to clear out the den and kill the shaman. You were asked to bring its head and staff back as proof, and you didn't. As a result, your reward was halved. This isn't the guild's fault...sir."

  She added the last bit as an afterthought. It didn't sound like a respectful affectation so much as a perfunctory acknowledgment of his gender.

  The man addressing her scowled. His face looked like an ugly dog, as if it had taken too many punches throughout his life. Scars crisscrossed his exposed arms, and his knuckles were permanently split and calloused. He reeked of stale sweat and cheap ale.

  He scooped up his three silver, growled a vulgar word that made Ash's ears burn, and walked away, shouldering past a group of younger adventurers without apology.

  "Ash!"

  The voice cut through the noise like a bell, familiar and welcome. Ash looked around and grinned widely when he found the source of the voice.

  Rosalia bounded up to them, green eyes bright with excitement. Her red hair caught the light, giving her the appearance of being crowned with fire. Her movements were quick and graceful, so different from the awkward half-elf girl he had known on the farm. She was dressed in simple but well-made leather armor, a short sword at her hip.

  She threw herself at Ash, hugging him tight, nearly knocking him backwards with her enthusiasm. "You're here! Thank the light; you're safe!"

  She smells like flowers by a stream, Ash thought, awkwardly patting her back. The scent brought back memories of the farm, of simpler days when his biggest concern had been tending sheep rather than mastering elar and fighting monsters.

  "Yeah, of course, I'm safe. Why wouldn't I be? Hey, I have someone I want you to meet!" He gently disentangled himself from her embrace, keenly aware of Lilith's disapproving stare. The dragon-girl was radiating jealousy through their bond, though whether it was over the physical contact or the attention, he couldn't quite tell.

  Rosalia pulled away from him, her smile still wide. She glanced over to Lilith, who was looking at her curiously, head tilted slightly like a predator assessing potential prey. "You do? Oh! Who's this cutie?"

  Lilith's left eye twitched violently. She sent Ash an image of her roaring fiercely, wings spread wide and flames erupting from her jaws. She didn't communicate with words yet, but her thoughts were clear. Dragons were not cute. They were powerful and fiercer than any predator. The indignation in her mental voice was almost comical.

  Ash smiled, telling her to be nice through their bond. She turned her nose upward, chin lifting in a display of draconic dignity that looked oddly charming on her human face.

  "This is Lilith. Amalia's little sister," he lied smoothly, the story they had agreed upon coming easily to his lips. "She was staying with relatives, and Drakosia was the meet-up, so Amalia could take her with us."

  "That's why you guys went there, huh? It's very nice to meet you, Lilith!" Rosalia's voice took on that special tone adults often used with children, sweet and slightly condescending. She knelt low, closing her eyes as she widened her smile, holding out a hand in greeting.

  Lilith leaned forward and took a big sniff before shrugging, making no move to take the offered hand. The disdain in her posture was unmistakable.

  "Oh, well..." Rosalia withdrew her hand, unsure what to do with the rejection. Her smile faltered but quickly returned, though it didn't quite reach her eyes this time.

  "Where's Nick and Will?" Ash inquired, changing the subject to ease the awkward moment. He scanned the room, hoping to spot his other friends among the crowd.

  Rosalia flicked a hand dismissively, recovering her composure. "Oh, they went to fight some goblins in a cave."

  Ash arched a brow, concern immediately flaring within him. "Really? You three don't have techniques yet. Seems like a bad idea." The thought of his friends facing monsters without proper preparation made his stomach knot.

  Rosalia shook her head, red curls swaying with the motion, catching the light like copper wire. "No, not really. They're just portering! We've learned so much while we were here." She glanced at Amalia, who was scowling, her disapproval radiating like a physical force.

  "You should be careful who you choose to learn from, miss Va'Sear. If you're not careful, you'll ruin your foundation." Amalia's voice carried a warning, cold and precise as a surgeon's blade.

  Rosalia held up a hand, her expression shifting from excitement to defiance. "What else should we have done? Can we talk about this at a table, please? I already have one." She pointed at an empty table in the corner where her backpack rested, marking her territory.

  The group sat down, the wooden chairs creaking slightly under their weight. The table bore the scars of countless adventures, knife marks and spilled ale telling silent stories of triumphs and failures.

  Rosalia continued, leaning forward eagerly, "There was only so much training we could do. We met a real adventuring party! They escorted some potential students of Wyrmhaven here, and are helping them get ready for the exam. Their leader, Vaughn, offered to help us out too! He's taught us so much!"

  Rosalia's eyes were sparkling with excitement, her hands gesturing animatedly as she spoke. "For example, we learned about aspects! And how to adapt absorbed elar to our cores! We aren't anywhere close to bronze rank, but we got a real boost."

  Amalia's scowl deepened every second, the lines around her mouth becoming more pronounced. Her fingers tightened around her staff until her knuckles whitened. "Teaching should be done by those who know better, not random adventurers."

  Rosalia's sparkling eyes changed, swimming with green fire. Her posture straightened, and her voice took on an edge that Ash had rarely heard from her. "Oh? Well, do you see any professional teachers around here willing to help? Wyrmhaven's entrance exam doesn't start for another two weeks, and for all we knew, you were dead. Forgive us for taking assistance where we could find it."

  The tension between them was palpable, like the air before a lightning strike. Ash found himself holding his breath, waiting for Amalia's response.

  Amalia didn't look happy, but she said nothing, apparently deciding that further argument would be pointless. Rosalia nodded curtly, taking the silence as a minor victory.

  "The only thing they didn't help us with is techniques. We know what they are, but they said we should wait until someone more qualified to teach one was available." She glanced at Amalia as if daring her to find fault with this.

  "So they had some sense, at least," Amalia muttered, her voice barely audible over the din of the guild hall.

  "We also got tons of combat experience and learned about dungeons! I am so going to ace this test." Rosalia's expression turned self-satisfied as she leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest.

  "So, anything new with you, Ash?" she asked, her attention turning back to him. Her eyes softened, genuine interest replacing the defensiveness she had shown with Amalia.

  He was about to respond, to tell her about his frost dragon wings technique and his progress with the sword, when a cultured, slightly nasally voice cut in like a knife.

  "So the mixed blood has friends after all. Be careful, mixed blood; just because someone's willing to talk to trash like you doesn't make you any less trash."

  The voice carried over the ambient noise of the guild hall with insulting clarity. Ash felt his blood chill, not with fear but with anger, as he turned to face the speaker. Rosalia's face had gone pale, her freckles standing out starkly against her skin.