Chapter 7: RIDE THE WHITE FIRE DRAGON.
Fourth bell.. The sky over stride was a bruise,the kind that promised a sunrise only if you survived to see it.
They matched me uphill through a spine of black rock to the rookery...a bowl of shattered basalt where wind keened like a saw. Sigils burned along the cliff rim,blue-white and cold, a ring of warding meant to keep spectators from being flash-cooked. It did nothing for the two idiots scheduled to tempt fate inside the circle.
One of those idiots was me.
Alma floated at my shoulder like a smug screensaver,glossy hair, neon eyes,no shame. "Chin up, Master. Nothing boosts confidence like the possibility of spontaneous cremation."
"Not helping," I muttered.
"Wasn’t trying to."
Rhea met us at the gate...a slate-gray cloak over light armor,hair tied high,eyes steady. Seeing her dropped my pulse ten beats. "You slept?" She asked.
"No." My face heated at the memory of exactly why. "Things...were loud."
She studied me a fraction longer than was professional,like she could read the embarrassing pop-up windows in my head. Then she pressed a strip of leather into my palm..a simple wrist wrap, edge-stitched and worn smooth. "Tie it. Grip charm.. won’t stop you from dying, but it might make you die slower."
"For legal reasons," Alma murmured, "I should disclose that it is, in fact, adorable that you keep exchanging accessories."
I looped the wrap once, twice. "Thank you," I told Rhea, trying to pack a lifetime of gratitude into two words.
"Don’t die," She said..
"I am giving it strong consideration."
Trumpets tire the wind. The Emperor
"Don’t die," she said.
"I am giving it strong consideration."
Trumpets tire the wind. The Emperor arrived with a wedge of guards. Nobles fanned along the rim, jewels throwing dawn like shrapnel. And striding late with the self-confidence of a landslide came Charlotte,scarlet hair,gold eyes, silk and chains that did nothing a dress should do.
She smiled at me like a cat about to sit on a laptop. "Ready, pet?"
"I am not your.." I started, and the herald bellowed
"By decree,the Challenge of White Fire! Contestants: Lord Lucien Val Corvaria, and the irregular candidate..Eiji Kagemaru alias Eight."
Lucien stepped forward in spotless white and gold, his cloak not even pretending to be practical. He looked me over, sneer sharp enough to shave with. "Do try not to embarrass the Princess before you burn."
"Embarrassment is my brand," I said. It came out braver than I felt.
A new sound knifed the air...deeper than thunder, older than words. The rookery floor vibrated. From a cave-mouthed gash in the cliff, something massive uncoiled,scales like hammered marvel veined with light. The white Fire Dragon crawled into the bowl and the world shrank around it.
White flame licked it’s fanged jaws, but it wasn’t fire like a hearth,it was the colour of pain, heat that made the air scream. It’s pupils were vertical razors. It looked at us the way rich people look at appetizers.
Alma voice went soft in my head.
"Beautiful."
My mouth forgot how to swallow.
A robbed Magus shuffled between us, staff humming. "By tradition, the sovereign chooses who is worthy to bear it’s heat. You approach with an offering. You speak your intent. If you try to bind by force, you will be ash."
Lucien flicked his cloak and produced a barbed chain-thrower, polished and hateful. "Old traditions bend for new tools," he said, and strode into the circle.
He didn’t bow. He didn’t offer anything.. he fired.
The chain screamed out, books yawning. The dragon moved like a thought. White Fire belched, the chain glowed red, then molten, then smoke. Lucien dove behind a ward stone, cloak on fire, pride on brighter fire.
He emerged spitting fury, hair signed artistic. "Defective wards!"
"Defective brain," Alma Whispered.
Gasps,murmurs,courtiers tasting scandal. The Emperor’s jaw clenched once. The magus didn’t even blink. "Next."
It was my turn.
My legs decided they were decorative. I made them move anyway. The rock underfoot felt like glass and knives.
"Master," Alma breathed,oddly gentle now. "Quick rules download. Dragons are old.. They respect three currencies: heat,honesty and audacity. I can lend you thermal shielding and grip, but you need to bring the rest."
"What do I offer it?" I whispered.
"The truth. And a little shame." She bit her lip, delighted. "Also..new subquest," She sang, and a panel winked up.
[Subquest: Declare your true intentions before the court.]
[Requirement: Use the words "I am not here for the princess."]
[Reward: Borrowed set.. Heat ward, Grip II.]
[Failure: Slippery Hands (debuff), -20% control on surface.]
"Of course," I hissed. "Of course the lewd system wants a public confession."
"Transparency futures intimacy," Alma said primly. "Go on."
My mouth was desert-dry. Charlotte watched me like a little match over oil. Rhea stood at the gate,not blinking.
I stepped into the ring.
Heat hit me like a wall...baking, arid, the kind of dry that flayed skin. Alma slid cool against my palm, fingers lacing mine, not quite touching and somehow everywhere.
"Say it," she whispered.
I faced the dragon. "I am not here for the princess." The words cracked the air like glass. "I’m here to keep someone from destroying my system. I’m here to live." I hesitated. "I’m here because I’m tired of being a joke."
Silence stretched. Then Alma’s laughter sparkles. "Honest. I’m swooning."
[Reward Granted: Borrowed set—Heat Ward (White), Grip II.]
A shimmer crawled over my skin. The air softened...still a furnace, but one I could stand in. The wrist wrap cooled like river stone.
The dragon lowered it’s head, not a bow,more of curiosity. White fire licked the basalt more curiosity. White Fire licked the basalt inches from my boots. The edges of my vision boiled.
"Easy," I told my knees "That’s my line."
"Approach left, three steps," Alma murmured. "Don’t square your shoulders, it reads like challenge. You’re asking to endure, not to dominate."
I moved the way she told me. The dragon’s breath was metal, ozone, old storms. I could feel it thinking, or maybe that was Alma...our sync humming like a tight wire.
"Hand," She said.
I lifted my right hand. Alma poured herself down my arm in a ribbon of cold light. The gauntlet bloomed around my fist...obsidian plates, runes ink-bright, claws like carved moonlight. Not the crude glove from the intake yard..a sleeker evolution, as if we’d learned each other.
Gasps shivered around the rim. Rhea’s mouth tightened, pride and worry in equal measure. Charlotte’s smiled thinned.
I offered the gauntlet,palm up, empty.
The dragon’s head came down until my reflection warped in it’s eyes. I saw a small man in a big mistake, wrapped in magic he didn’t deserve. White flame washed across the back of my hand, hungry and silent. My skin should have been gone. Alma’s ward held, barely.
"Its reading you," Alma Whispered, and for once there was no tease in it. Only wonder. "Don’t lie."
"I don’t want to marry your princess," I told the dragon. "I don’t want her bed. I don’t want a throne. I want my system. I want my life. I want to go home someday.." My throat tightened. "But I’ll fight to get there."
The dragon’s pupils narrowed to needles. Then, slowly, it tilted its horn.
"That’s permission," Alma breathed. "Two fingers on the base. No grabbing. If it flexes,you flex."
My hands were theater props. I made them actors. Two fingers, the horn was hot stone, humming under my touch. My wrist wrap cooled again, as if drinking the heat and giving me back a fraction.
The dragon rumbled. The sound buzzed my teeth. Its shoulder dropped a fraction. Space opened where a person could go, if that person had poor judgement.
"Eiji!" Rhea called from the gate. Her voice didn’t shake. "Breathe."
I realized I hadn’t been breathing.
"Borrowed set upgrade available," Alma sang sweetly in my ear. "One-time: Balance+30,Thermal Tolerance+15. Cost: say ’Alma, I trust you’ Loud enough for the nobles to hear."
I glared at her. She smiled like a mischievous little succubus that knew what it would commit
Heat pressed on my lungs. White Fire licked my boots. Rhea’s eyes held steady. Charlotte’s glittered, daring me to fail. Lucien looked like a man watching a banana peel.
I swallowed. "Alma," I said, loud enough for everyone to hear. "I trust you."