5 • LARICE

HAVING TO ATTEND THE ENTIRE MORNING SESSION AGAIN, her most hated time of the day, Larice Whitewind had to sit along with these people—people who either secretly or obviously despised her. She might’ve not seen it or heard it too often, but she could feel it all the same. Their disgusted stares every time she passed by them had said it all. She wanted to walk out already, return to Librad, and sneak inside the red door. She could’ve even skipped today’s session, but she chose not to as the old hag would get into her nerves again. So she had to wait until sunset, when Erlind’s shift would end.

Larice had taken the seat at the back row of over fifty hunter trainees. Each student had to sit on a square-shaped cotton mat down on the waxed red floor, while they listened to Grand Hunter Arien Homeli in front of them.

All of them paid attention—except Larice Whitewind. She kept her eyes on the sunlit windows, madly waiting for the Fort Bell to ring. Her thoughts went wondering what could be there waiting for her in the Ardrad. Hoping she had obtained the right key, she would try to sneak in and search for information about her village. But what if she’d finally get a clue about the dragon who committed it? Would she even dare to travel north and hunt the beast?

Larice shook her head. The sight of fire had already traumatized her. How much more at the sight of a dragon? She could choose to stay inside the walls of Shavath, where she felt safe from all the fire and beasts. But then she figured—there’s no safe place in this world at all.

Arien Homeli continued his session, standing in front of the trainees. “…we have emerged as the heroes of the empire. But as you may have known, dragons have long been able to shape-shift even before the Great War had started, or what history had called as … the Red Century.”

His eyes traveled to each and one of his students as he spoke. He belonged as one of the four Grand Hunters in Shavath—the third in the highest rank below the Archon Hunters and Master Hunters. “Although they can always transform into humans like us, they do have distinct features we should look out for. One … their eyes … Dragons have different eye colors from ours …”

The young hunters slowly shifted all their attention to Larice, as if she’d been the very first person to come into their thoughts.

Larice had to stop gazing at the windows to counter their annoying stares. So what if she didn’t have a shade of black or brown eyes like them? That wouldn’t make her look like a dragon or whatsoever. But that’s great. Now they got another reason to avoid her, which was all fine for her, thanks to Grand Arien. Larice Whitewind found it pleasing when the people were the ones staying away from her.

“Eyes here, trainees … dragons can only have three shades of eye colors—amber, hazel, and gold. I’m all certain that blue is not one of them,” Arien said when he seemed to notice the students looking at her. “Besides, Ms. Whitewind here came from another country which she has yet to share to the class.”

Larice rolled her eyes. Who would care anyway if she did? And her eyes were aurora-blue, not just blue as in the shade of plain blue.

“So why is she here?” Barded spoke up all of a sudden—a long-haired and crooked-teeth guy, whom Larice had most hated in this class aside from Erlind and Archon Quarth.

Before Grand Arien could speak, Larice answered it herself, saying, “Because I passed the hunting test. Isn’t that simple enough to understand?” Then she rolled her eyes.

For months, the Grand Hunters had made her attend these boring sessions after she refused to take part in the final test, where they would have to venture north and then come back only when they had slain a dragon. Larice had known she could never do it. She might have excelled during the entrance test—the practical one where they hunted as many beasts as they could. She was even one of the top trainees who had slain the most. But dragons were a different matter already.

“I think it’s you who don’t understand. I meant to ask why you are still here.” Barded twisted a smirk, raising his eyebrows.

This stupid guy’s trying to get into her again, Larice noticed. “It’s none of your concern, Barded,” she replied with a glare.

“It’s none of OUR concern?” He looked around. “Isn’t it our concern to have a member, a fool who only wastes her time being here … when she’s even scared of the enemies we’re fighting against?” He shifted his glance at Arien Homeli. “Grand Arien, this coward brings shame to our flag in front of the Dravalon Empire. Why’s there no one doing anything? We all know she’s scared of fire—“

“I’m NOT scared!” Larice snapped, squeezing her fists—her hands growing colder and colder in every second. The curse was slowly coming out again … but she had to hold it … she had to contain it.

Larice stood up angrily.

“Show us, then,” he stood up too, “right now.” Then he turned his head and nodded at his friend. “Hand me a torch—”

“ENOUGH of this nonsense!” Arien interrupted, his dark voice echoing around the court. “No one is lighting a fire inside the Acadrim … Hergon and Whitewind,” he pointed at both of them, “you two mind your actions. Another of this and I’ll send you both to the Fortresi at once.”

Larice dug her nails deep through her palms, wishing she had her rapier with her now. She wanted to give this stupid guy a piece of her over swords. He needed pain and shame to learn how to fear and respect her.

However, she couldn’t say he’s wrong at all. It was indeed a shame for her to be here in Shavath while training to be a dragon hunter. Everyone knew her weakness … Everyone knew her fear. There’s no one and no place in this world where she could belong. A few had tried to approach and enter her life, but it was so dark and cold that when they discovered her poison, they chose to leave—all of them.  

Grand Hunter Arien was about to continue his session when the Fort Bell rang at last. He responded with a heavy sigh and said, “That would be all for today.”

The trainees all stood up and turned to face the crimson flag of Shavath, hanging down on the right ceiling. It depicted a burnt-black sword, pointing down with a pair of snow-white dragon wings on both sides of the hilt.

One student stomped his foot twice as a signal.

Then, together, they all hammered their right fist against their left chest. “Slay the Dragon!”

“Slay the dragon,” Larice muttered too late.

Right after walking out of the Acadrim Hall, Larice glimpsed the rumbling dark clouds in the sky. Light raindrops fell over her black hair, and the earthy scent of soil, smelling wet under the rain, traveled straight through her nose. She was about to climb down the wide, mud-brick stairs when Barded’s voice called out behind her.

“Hey, Whitewind,” he said. “Didn’t you say you’re not scared?”

Larice shut her eyes in frustration, taking a deep breath before she faced him. “What do you want?”

“Prove it, in front of everyone.” He glanced back at one of his friends who carried an unlit torch and then handed it to him. “Arien said we can’t do it inside. So we’ll do it here. Now.”

Larice took a step back. She looked around, only to find young trainees going in and out of the Acadrim Hall—new members, mostly. This stupid guy must be insane. She could not afford to freak out in front of them, only because of fire. It would be humiliating!

Larice swallowed hard in her throat. “Get that thing away from me.”

Barded cast a wicked smirk on his lips.

“Can I have your attention?” he suddenly called out to the surrounding hunters. Many had heard and turned their heads to him. The chattering noise in front of the Acadrim building fell into silence.

“This woman right here is about to take a test of courage,” he pointed at Larice, “or … it might only turn out to be a mere entertainment for all of us.”

His two friends walked forward, quickly reached out, and grabbed a hold of Larice by her arms up tight. She had to wrench her muscles to fight their strong grip. Struggling hard, she tried to reel back from Barded … but these two guys overpowered her, rooting her in her position.

“Let … me … go,” Larice warned them with her gritted teeth. She reached down for her belt, but then she remembered she’d left her rapier in her bedchamber.

Seconds later, the rain stopped, unfortunately.

Larice muttered a curse. The world had all turned against her once again.

“I thought you said you’re not scared, Whitewind?” Barded lit the torch, causing it to flash and blaze into bright flames.

Larice flinched—her heartbeat racing wildly as her sweat broke from her forehead, down to her face, then to her neck. Everyone watched as Barded stepped forward.

“Stop,” she lowered her voice into a whisper. The sight and the smell took her breath away, causing her throat to tighten.

“Stop, please.” Tears came to fill up and blur her vision. From the dancing flames, she saw it—her village burning … her parents’ bodies burning alive.

Barded spread his grin wider in amusement. “Can you all see this?” He glanced around the trainees watching over. “Look at her. How can she join and stay here with us when this is how she reacts with fire?”

Some hunters laughed—some cast murmurs to each other—and some watched in silent disbelief.

Larice couldn’t handle this any longer. She wanted to let the curse blow out of her … but she’s afraid she might end up hurting someone—or worse, kill someone … like how she had killed those men before …

“Barded,” one guy holding her arm said. “Her skin’s turning cold.”

Larice squeezed her eyes shut, trying hard to control the curse. Her blood flow raged through her veins along with her heart hammering against her chest. She must not. She had to keep her fear under control or else … she couldn’t even imagine what would happen.

“Barded!” the other guy said as his grip on her arm slowly froze.

When Barded saw it, his smirk faded, and his forehead wrinkled in confusion. “What the hell …”

Suddenly, heavy rain was pouring down from the dark clouds, giving everyone no choice but to run inside the building. The four of them stayed, however, and the flames got washed out in an instant.

“Dammit …” Barded groaned.

Larice found this as her chance, knowing that the hold of these two guys turned cold and numb. She could do it.

Larice twisted her body in full force, successfully freeing herself from their hands. She swirled around and ran down the stairs, but Barded came fast enough to grab the back of her neck. His hand slipped, but then he caught her necklace and pulled it back.

Larice gasped as the pearl necklace snapped out of her neck.

She paused and then turned around, only to find the most precious thing in the world, broken into pieces in her own eyes.

The locket of the pearl necklace fell along with the rain. It bounced on the brick stairs, shattered into very tiny pieces of white spheres like a splash of water hitting the ground.

“No …” Her eyes went wide open. “No … no … please, no …” She cried, kneeling as she tried to bring the small pearls back together, but it’s hopeless now.

Her tears mixed with the rainwater as she closed her eyes in agony.

Her angry blood screamed and raged as if they would burst out of her veins like a river current; wild and deadly.

She had enough of this already.

“NO!” Larice slammed a fist against the stairs where it flashed out bright, blue light, blinding all their sight. Along with it flashed the memory of her mentor, Riqui the Swordmaster, who’d given her the necklace before he died. It was the only thing she’d left of him aside from Gray Viper … and he was the only person she had ever trusted.

“Take care of it …” Riqui said with a raspy, weak voice, lying on his bed. “I was supposed … to give this to my son … but he probably … still hate me … now—“ He paused to grasp for air.

Larice sobbed, pressing the necklace into her chest.

“But you …” Riqui coughed, hard and dry. “You … you’ve been my daughter ... already … my little Whitewind.”

“Don’t leave me,” she pleaded. “You’re the only family I have left … please …” She could never imagine what her life would be without her mentor. After the burning of her village, Riqui had kept her, trained her, and raised her like his own daughter. He had once mentioned about his past of being a dragon hunter from Shavath before … but years ago, he was banished in the country of Drava for a specific reason, which he’d kept hidden from her. So he traveled overseas, then far north to the cold country of Glacia. He taught Larice how to wield a sword—a special type of sword under his own expertise; a rapier. Its lightweight body matched perfectly for Larice as a girl.

Riqui comforted her with a weak smile. “Grow strong … my little Whitewind.” He held her hands tight. “Slay … the Dragon …”

Slay the dragon—the final words of her mentor in his last hour. That’s when Larice had decided to travel to Riqui’s country; Drava, and find that dragon.

The entire memory of his death had struck her mind like a flash of thunder, but then a man’s scream instantly pulled her back to the present.

“MO … MONSTER!” Barded cried out.

Opening her eyes, Larice dropped her jaws after seeing what she’d done.

Ice had expanded from her fist, climbed upon the stairs, and froze everything in its path … until it reached Barded. His entire body got caught by the frost, covering every skin and garment with thick, colorless ice. 

The sight had seemed to frighten his two friends as they’re nowhere to be found. But the crowd slowly grew back in numbers to see what had happened.

“He … help! Help me! Anyone!” Barded cried out, his mouth shivering and his teeth chattering as his head was the only part left unfrozen.

“What is going on in here?” The loud voice of Grand Hunter Arien Homeli silenced the crowds of trainees, all soaked in the rain.

“Grand Arien! Help me! I … I can’t feel my body! She … she did it!” Barded screamed with a trembling voice.

The Grand Hunter’s lips parted after seeing the situation in front of him. He quickly darted his gaze at Larice. “Whitewind, into the Fortresi with me … NOW!”