CHAPTER 12 - MEDRA

It wasn't a total shock to me that highbloods sometimes killed blightborn students. Honestly, I was just kind of relieved to hear it wasn't on a daily basis.

But it did put into perspective how much worse it might have been the day before, when I'd jumped from the stone dragon. If I had died, it would have been a minor inconvenience. Not completely unexpected.

Professor Rodriguez left me at the entrance to the refectory. Quite a few students still remained, sitting at long tables, eating and chatting. I didn't see any of Blake and Regan's crew, which was good news for me.

I grabbed a mug of steaming kava, added three teaspoons of sugar and some cream, and then sat at the end of one of the tables, plucking food from the mostly-full platters of breakfast items.

There was no sign of Florence and Naveen. They were probably already heading to class.

This time, when the Bloodwing bells chimed, I was ready. Florence had told me there was a five minute warning bell before the start of each class. This time I was out in the hall and heading towards my History of Sangratha class before it even rang.

I'd memorized my new timetable but had it tucked into a pocket just in case. Today would be a little different in more ways than one. Headmaster Kim had left the Restoration and Alchemy class on my schedule for now, after Professor Rodriguez had told him it would be a good idea for me to learn the basics, though he doubted I'd show an aptitude for healing.

I thought he might be wrong, however. Alchemy, for instance, seemed more about mixing and brewing potions in the right quantities than about a natural talent or arcane ability.

True, I'd never baked a cake or mixed a recipe before in my life, but what child doesn't like pretending to make "potions" in the bathtub or out in the gardens with some mud? Alchemy seemed interesting and potentially fun. It was also linked to Herbalism, which was offered to more advanced students. I knew Florence wanted to take that class and I planned to stick with her as much as possible, so I was hoping I might be able to add it, too.

First Years only had four classes a day, but some courses alternated. After lunch today, I had Advanced Weaponry followed by my new class, Basic Combat for Blightborns. But some days I seemed to have Basic Combat or Advanced Weaponry without the other one. Instead I had a spare period that I was supposed to be using for research and study.

The first half of the day went by quickly. This time, I kept my head down in History of Sangratha. Quite literally. I focused on copying notes off the board as quickly as I could. Then, Florence and Naveen and I hurried to Restoration and Alchemy where Professor Rodriguez acted as if he hadn't bitten my head off the day before. Instead of making me stay for lunch to work on the storeroom, we made plans for my first thrallguard training session the next day.

Then, to my shock and relief, he let me leave to get something to eat–but only after reminding me that he expected to use all of my upcoming study periods and spare time to work on my dragon essay. That would have been well and good if I hadn't needed to use them for the even more pressing issue of getting my mother out of my head. Of course, I didn't mention that to him.

By the time I strode into Advanced Weaponry after lunch, I was feeling pretty good about how the day was going. I'd made it to the halfway point without anyone trying to murder me or lick blood off me and I hadn't seen Regan, Blake, or any of their ilk once.

That changed as I walked into Professor Sankara's class. The sky was overcast today. Just like the day before, the air in the courtyard was filled with the scent of sweat and metal.

Several students had arrived early. Some were sparring together in pairs, while others were practicing on wooden dummies or running drills with weapons in hand.

There was a loud grunt from the corner of the courtyard and my eyes flew to where Blake Drakharrow stood, steadily attacking a punching bag suspended from a thick iron chain.

He was shirtless. His lean, muscular frame was coated in a faint sheen of sweat as he worked. The bag swung with each savage blow he delivered, its surface denting from the force of his strikes. His pale gold hair clung to his forehead, giving him a wild, untamed appearance.

I swallowed hard. It was the first time I'd seen him shirtless. The first time I'd seen the black ink that marred his otherwise flawless pale skin. He'd been wearing high-collared shirts previous days, plus cloaks overtop those.

Now I saw that intricate tattoos covered his back, arms, and even snaked partway up his neck. Some of the markings were in Classical Sangrathan. Words I couldn't make out from this distance. But most were dragons. Their scales spread across his chest. Their claws raked down his arms as if ready to tear flesh.

As he jabbed out and rotated, another flash of ink caught my eye. My breath hitched. A full dragon was etched across his entire back, its wingspan stretching from shoulder to shoulder, its tail coiling down his spine, and its snarling head seeming to rise from the base of his neck.

I forced myself to look away.

I hated him, I reminded myself. He was arrogant and cruel. The embodiment of everything I despised about the world I was trapped in.

And yet... I snuck another glance. I couldn't seem to tear my eyes away from him.

His fists flew. Left hook. Right jab. Cracking against the leather bag with brutal force. The muscles in his arms tensed and released, tattoos rippling with every strike. He was favoring his left hand. But he fought well with both. The dragon wings on his back flared as he twisted, pounding with first one hand then the other.

I cursed inwardly as my gaze lingered on the ink sprawled over his skin.

Blake Drakharrow was beautiful in a way I didn't want to admit. In a way that made my blood simmer and my mind spin with confusion.

How could someone so vile be so compelling?

Blake suddenly stopped, his eyes flicking towards me before I could turn away. Our gazes locked and a slow smirk curled over his lips. My heart skipped a beat and for the first time I saw something in those pale, silver eyes. Awareness. Did he know the effect he was having on me?

As he moved to wipe the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand, I hastily turned away.

He was marked by something ancient and dangerous. Seeing him like that, bare and exposed, stirred something in me that I didn't want to feel. Made him seem more like me.

But he wasn't.

No matter how beautiful the man or how mesmerizing the dragon, Blake Drakharrow was still a monster.

I could never let myself forget that.

I spent the rest of Advanced Weaponry working with Professor Sankara one on one. At first, I had to list some of the skills I already possessed so he could get a better sense of where to start me.

Odessa had trained me extensively in traditional sword combat. I felt fairly proficient with longswords and short swords. We'd moved onto spears and polearms. My footwork was quick and precise and I could usually use speed and agility to outmaneuver my slower opponents.

"As you saw yesterday, that won't be enough here," Sankara said. "You're impressive for a mortal." Every time they called me "mortal" I was tempted to correct them. I was mortal. But only half. Still, what would be the point of explaining about the fae of Aercanum? They'd never believe me. "But here, your opponents won't be mortals. Vampires move faster, hit harder. For the next while, I want you to focus on speed and reflexes."

I thought of the way my body had seemed to come more alive, to quicken, as I was fighting Visha. But I said nothing, simply nodded. I had no idea if I could will that to happen again.

Sankara gestured towards a set of weighted practice weapons hanging on the wall nearby. "Take those. Practice your forms with double the weight you're used to. We'll see how quick you really are."

By the time Advanced Weaponry finished, I was a sweaty, dripping mess. But there was no time to go back to the First Year dormitory and bathe or even change. With only ten minutes before my next class, I had to hurry to get to Basic Combat for Blightborn. I made a mental note to bring a towel and extra set of clothes next time, so I could at least sneak into a bathroom and change.

Mercifully, Blake had stayed far away from me the entire class. Which was exactly how I wanted it. Our betrothal was meaningless to me–and it was clear it was just as meaningless to him. I also didn't want other students thinking it set me apart as special. Or worse, marked me as a target.

Being the only rider already did that, anyways.

Regan had yet to show up for a single Advanced Weaponry class. I was starting to wonder if it was on her schedule. Maybe she was exempt. Or maybe there were two time slots for the class being offered this term and she was in the other.

I was starting to think I'd never see her there and that was a relief.

If I could stay away from Blake and his bully friends, maybe I could make it through this term. Maybe Bloodwing could even be bearable. Dare I say it? Even enjoyable. The school itself was growing on me. I liked being tested, challenged. I liked learning new things every day. Oddly enough, I was more interested and invested in my lessons now than I'd ever been with my tutors back in Camelot.

Naveen was waiting in the hall outside the Basic Combat for Blightborns classroom.

Florence was not. She didn't have to take a combat class. At first I'd been surprised by this as one of her future career options was strategist. You would think a military strategist would have to be pretty familiar with combat.

But apparently a strategist's position was primarily theoretical. Florence would be valued more for her knowledge of historical battles and her ability to develop campaign plans. If she went with this path, in times of peace, she might be posted as an advisor to a noble highblood house. She'd coach them on security measures, defense tactics, and ways to help keep their forces strengthened in preparation for future conflicts. If it ever came to full-out war, she'd be safely stationed in a command post, issuing orders and adapting strategies in real time, but never actually out on the field.

Strategists could also become diplomats and become valuable go-betweens for the highblood houses or even as representatives of Sangratha to other lands.

"You look more excited for this class than you did for the others," I observed. Naveen was barely hiding a grin. He kept hopping up and down on both feet as he stood waiting.

"I am," he agreed. "I'm ready to move. I'm tired of sitting on a bench all day scribbling on parchment." He feigned a few jabs and I laughed. "I'm not like Florence. She loves keeping her nose in a book. I'm actually surprised she doesn't want to become a librarian like her mother. I'm sure Bloodwing would love to have her."

"That's a good point," I said, surprised I hadn't thought of it. "It would be a safer position, too, right? Librarians aren't really ever in danger."

Naveen gave a little shrug. "I mean, within the school library I've heard it can be cutthroat. Some of the librarians are vampires. But they usually aren't from very powerful houses. Still, that just means they're competitive when it comes to keeping the little power they do have. I've heard Professor Shen say the library is not for the faint of heart."

I snorted. "That's kind of funny. I've always thought of libraries as rather dull places. Peaceful and quiet, if anything."

"They sure seem that way," Naveen agreed. "Oh, look. The door's opening."

Sure enough, the classroom door now stood ajar and students were lining up and making their way inside.

We followed the others into a large open room. It resembled the courtyard we used in Advanced Weaponry in many ways, except this one was fully indoors with a stone ceiling.

"I've heard our instructor is a dwarf," Naveen told me, his voice low. "We can tolerate sunlight and we can build up an even greater tolerance, but it's more comfortable for us inside. Especially when you're, uh..." He broke off nervously.

"Yes, Mr. Sharma? Was there something you cared to share with the rest of the class?" a dry, female voice said from behind us.

I whirled around to see a short, sturdy-looking dwarven woman.

Our newest instructor had an impressively muscular build, with broad shoulders and thick forearms. Her gray hair was streaked with a few strands of dark brown and pulled into a ponytail. Her eyes were a striking shade of dark blue. A deep scar ran across her left eyebrow. She wore faded studded leather armor that had seen better days. It was clear she preferred functionality over appearance.

"Professor Stonefist," Naveen said, his voice weak. "I didn't see you there."

"No, you didn't, Sharma. And that could get you killed." The professor's voice was brusque.

I hid a smile. This woman was obviously the no-nonsense type. She reminded me of Odessa already.

The professor raised her voice so the entire class could hear her. "I'm Magda Stonefist and I'll be your instructor. You're here because you're a future scout or because you need to fulfill the basic combat class requirement. You're also here because you're mortal. You're blightborn. In other words, you're weak."

The class broke out in a stir of mutters.

"Well?" Magda demanded. "Aren't you?" She pointed to the hallway. "That's what they think you are. But weak doesn't mean useless. Weak doesn't mean expendable. That's what you can prove in this classroom. That's what you'll have to prove to me."

She scanned the room. "This class could just as easily have been called Basic Survival for Blightborn. Because ultimately, survival is what I'll be teaching you. Sangratha has been at peace for the last five years. If you can call it that." She muttered the last part under her breath so only Naveen and I heard it. "But times can change. Times can change fast."

I glanced at Naveen and he gave me a quick shrug, as if to say he didn't know what she was talking about.

"Don't consider this class optional. Don't consider it theoretical. This class could save your life." Professor Stonefist glanced at Naveen. Then her eyes swept over the rest of the group, pausing on the few dwarven students in our midst.

"Some of you have natural advantages," she acknowledged. "Dwarves were built for close-quarters combat. We have high endurance. I'll teach you dwarven students how to use that. The rest of you will learn how to fight smart. You're not here to learn how to look pretty with a sword. In fact, for many of you, a sword in your hand is the last thing you'll need. We'll use smaller weapons. Clubs, daggers, crossbows. We'll focus on swift, efficient strikes. Evasion will be our watchword. But sometimes a face-to-face fight can't be avoided. Hand to hand combat is dirty, messy, but sometimes it can be your only chance against someone stronger and better trained. You'll learn how to make the most of what little time you have to react. In future terms, we'll focus more on learning the art of stealth."

She started pacing back and forth. "Scouts have one of the most dangerous roles in a unit. They go ahead of their squad, into enemy territory, and often return with nothing but their lives. Some don't return at all. In the last civil war, between the four great houses..."

I turned to Naveen, my eyes wide. "War?" I mouthed.

"I'll tell you later," he mouthed back. Then he seemed to think better of it. "Ask Florence," he mouthed.

I tried to tune back into what Professor Stonefist was saying.

"If you're chosen to be a scout, your job isn't to fight. It's to move unseen, to gather information, and to survive long enough to report back with it. That means learning how to use your environment, how to disappear into the shadows, and how to remain silent even when it seems like everything around you is trying to find you."

Magda paused, her expression growing more serious. "Some of you may know I wasn't always an instructor at Bloodwing. Decades ago–yes, decades," she said drily, as some chatter went up from the class. "Vampires aren't the only long-lived race in Sangratha, as you should be aware. Decades ago, I was a scout in the last civil war between the great houses."

She looked over the class, her eyes dark with a faint challenge. "Some of you may have heard of me. They called me Grimblade."

Beside me Naveen gasped. A few other students in the courtyard did, too, clearly recognizing the name.

"But I thought..." Naveen stopped, his face reddening.

"You thought what, Mr. Sharma? Care to share that thought with the whole class?" Professor Stonefist barked.

Naveen shifted nervously. "I thought... I guess I thought Darkstep was a man," he said sheepishly.

There were some snickers. But I saw a few students nodding.

"You thought wrong, Sharma," Magda Stonefist said. But her voice was mild. "It won't be the first or the last time someone makes that mistake though. Some of the most famous scouts in Sangrathan history have been female. Many of them were also dwarves. All of you should be aware of that."

She strode forward into the center of the courtyard. "Now. Let's get started shall we?"

"Grimblade?" I whispered at Naveen.

His face was still red as a beet. "I'll tell you later."

"We'll be starting with the basics over the next few weeks," Professor Stonefist was announcing loudly. "Grappling, strikes, throws, disarming techniques. You'll learn how to make your movements count, and more importantly, how to stay on your feet when someone bigger or stronger comes at you."

She looked around at us. "When I was scouting in the Yavara Jungle, I survived because I knew how to use my surroundings. If you make it through this course, I also teach an advanced Concealment and Survival class where you'll learn how to disappear in plain sight, set up ambushes, and turn the environment into your weapon."

Naveen's eyes lit up. "Awesome," I heard him whisper.

"But first," Professor Stonefist continued. "We'll start simple. I want you to pair off, get into the rings, and show me what you've got. Knock your opponent down or pin them. I'll come by each of you, assessing your strengths and weaknesses."

I was about to ask Naveen if he wanted to pair up when Professor Stonefist marched up to us.

"Nope," she said, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Nope what?" I asked, confused.

She grinned. "Go find another partner, Pendragon. I can tell from the look on this lad's face that he wouldn't give you a fair match."

"Yes, I would," Naveen said hotly.

She raised her eyebrows. "Really? You'd be okay throwing your friend into the mud and slamming your fist into her face?"

That sounded remarkably similar to what had already happened to me yesterday but I said nothing.

Naveen blushed. "Well..."

I rolled my eyes. Naveen was clearly too much of a gentleman. Or maybe he just needed to learn what women could really do. In any case, I wanted a fair fight. Not someone I could beat one-handed.

"Go partner up with Aldric over there," Professor Stonefist instructed him. As Naveen walked away, she eyed me up and down. "And you. A rider, huh? Lean and slender. Those ears look pointy. Can you hear better with them than most people?"

"A little," I admitted. Fae did have better hearing than mortals. And I was half-fae.

"Good. Perhaps you'll wind up a scout since there are no dragons to ride. Wouldn't be the worst outcome for you." She scratched her chin. "You can pair up with Lace Ironstride over there. She's a Second Year student who usually helps me supervise the First Year class. She's more experienced, but I suspect you'll keep her on her toes."

I looked over to where a bold-looking dwarven girl was standing with her feet spread apart.

"Sounds good," I said, cracking my knuckles. "So the goal is...?"

"The goal is for one of you to be taken out. You can do that in a nice way or a not so nice way. Lace fights fair. Usually." Professor Stonefist grinned at me and I grinned back.

Lace was built like a boulder. She was at least a head shorter than me, but much more solid. Her strength was clear in the way she moved.

Still, a few minutes later, Lace was on her back. I'd pinned her in the dirt but I didn't rub her face in it like Visha had done. I also didn't punch her in the nose.

"Good match," I said, standing up and offering her my hand. I suspected Lace would be an even more challenging opponent the next time. She'd underestimated me a bit, but I was sure it wouldn't happen twice.

She took my hand and nodded as she jumped to her feet. "You're fast. I'm stronger, but speed can be a great asset, too."

"Speed is something that we dwarves always need to work on," Professor Stonefist said ruefully, approaching our ring. "You've got impressive speed," she said to me. "Quick reactions and agility are valuable in a fight. But don't forget, you need to be more than just fast. Strength and endurance are key, too."

I winced a little, thinking about how Visha had certainly proven that the day before.

Professor Stonefist walked around me, observing my posture and form. "In the next few classes, I want you to work on building up your strength and endurance. We'll focus on drills to increase your resilience. Strengthening your core and upper body will help you maintain control and get more power into your moves."

I nodded. "Understood."

The professor turned away. "Switch!" she bellowed. "Find a new partner. If I haven't come by to give you an assessment, I will do so before class ends. Or you'll stay late and wait. One or the other."

I quickly found a new partner. First up was a slender dark skinned mortal boy named Vaughn Sabino who nearly had me matched in speed for a few minutes. But I wound up pinning him face-up against a wall. He was gracious about losing and made me promise we could spar again the next class.

"I'm usually the fastest in the group," he said, with a grin, as I left the ring. "I'm looking forward to a challenge."

By the time class ended, I was sore and tired but happy. Basic Combat was different from Advanced Weaponry, but in a refreshing way. The class seemed much more at ease–with the professor but also with one another. Even though we'd arguably spent the last hour fighting and competing, it had been in a good natured way. I sensed a camaraderie already starting to develop.

Professor Stonefist was tough but she seemed fair. I appreciated that she was mortal. It was a nice change of pace to be amongst mortal students and not highbloods, even though I was a little worried I wouldn't have my mettle tested quite as much.

"So, what were you going to say when the professor interrupted us at the start of class?" I asked Naveen.

He flushed. "Oh. That. I was going to say that as we dwarves age, it's easier on our eyes to be indoors. Artificial lighting isn't as harsh as sunlight."

I laughed. "That's funny."

"Why?"

"Well, a long time ago, I read in a book that it was vampires who had a natural aversion to sunlight. But here it turns out it was dwarves not vampires."

Naveen smiled. "I'm not sure vampires are averse to anything. They don't have many natural weaknesses."

"What about each other?" I suggested.

Naveen nodded. "You make a good point."

"Tell me about that civil war Professor Stonefist mentioned. Who fought in it? What happened?"

Naveen held up his hands. "Look, I wasn't even alive then. You'd be better off asking Florence or taking out a book from the library." He paused. "Actually, I'm sure we'll learn more about it in History of Sangratha."

I didn't want to wait that long.

"But all you really need to know, I guess," Naveen continued. "Is that it involved the four houses. They split into factions. Two against two."

"Who was allied with House Drakharrow?"

Naveen scratched his head. "I'm pretty sure it was House Orphos. All I know for sure is that it was House Avari against House Drakharrow. The other two houses were strong but not as strong as those two."

"So House Mortis took House Avari's side?" I thought back to Catherine, the leader of House Mortis who I'd seen strolling through the refectory with her two thralls the day before.

"Right," Naveen said. "House Orphos was a little stronger then. But not by much. House Mortis and House Avari seemed to have the stronger alliance."

"But who won?" Then I guessed, "House Drakharrow must have."

"You're right. How did you know?"

"Lord Drakharrow." I scowled. "The Drakharrows seem to have the most power right now."

"They do," Naveen agreed. "Though they haven't always. But yes, Viktor Drakharrow basically rules Sangratha. The other houses defer to him. At least, they do for now. I suppose the professor was right and it is an uneasy peace in some ways."

"What happens to Bloodwing when the great houses fight? I mean, aren't we supposed to be neutral? I thought all of the highbloods had sons and daughters here."

Naveen sighed. "We are. Supposed to be. Honestly, you'd be better off asking Florence. She loves topics like this. But the long and short of it is... During the civil war, it was chaos. I think Bloodwing shut down. The school was supposed to be preparing students to stand on guard for the kingdom. But the truth is, like you've probably already guessed, it basically helps to fortify the four most powerful houses. That's why what happens in the school when it comes to house and squad selection is so important. It's an indication of what's to come in the outer world. The most powerful squads and the most powerful house inside of Bloodwing are usually reflective of the most powerful up-and-coming house. Or which house will maintain their power."

"Only three of the school houses have leaders," I said.

Naveen shrugged. "Right. But everyone knows Blake will wind up the leader of House Drakharrow at Bloodwing. He doesn't have any real challengers. Well, unless you count his friends. I suppose his cousin Theo could challenge him."

I shook my head. "Theo doesn't seem the type." I frowned, then amended, "But I don't know him very well."

"I'm exhausted," Naveen groaned. "But I'm also starving. I think my stomach is winning out." He raised his hands. "Don't tell me how bad I smell. I don't want to know."

I laughed. "You go on to the refectory. I get it. But I'm heading back to the dormitory for a bath and then to the library."

We split up, agreeing to meet in the common room later, unless we fell asleep first. For me, it felt like a very real possibility. Especially after I'd taken a bath and changed into fresh clothes. I eyed my comfortable bed with longing but then with a sigh, forced myself back out the door.

There was a new area of Bloodwing Academy I wanted to explore.