Isolde worked quickly, finishing her washing with a final, hurried rinse. She began hauling buckets of water to the small vegetable patch in the yard. Even moving as fast as her small fra would allow, she was late. By the ti she arrived at the academy, panting, class was already in session.
“…and so this particular rune, while appearing complex, is actually quite simple,” Mistress Solana's calm voice drifted from the classroom. “If you look at its core components…”
Taking a deep breath, Isolde pushed the heavy door open.
The lecture stopped. Mistress Solana turned, her expression unreadable. All eleven students at their desks swiveled to stare at the girl in the doorway. Isolde felt their eyes on her but kept her own gaze fixed on the floor.
“I'm sorry, Mistress Solana. I'm late again,” she mumbled.
“That is evident. Take your seat, Isolde,” the ntor replied, her voice devoid of warmth but also free of ridicule. It was a professional flatness Isolde had co to expect.
She shuffled to her place, a long walk under the silent scrutiny of her peers. Her desk, large enough to sleep on, was starkly empty compared to the others, bearing only a few books and a quill. She sat, opened her notebook, and began to copy down the diagrams Mistress Solana was now conjuring in the air.
Dong…
The bell signaling the midday al rang out, its tone echoing across the campus. The magical grimoire floating before Mistress Solana snapped shut.
“That will be all for this morning,” she announced. “We will finish this diagram after the break. Class dismissed.” As the students began to stir, she added, “Isolde, a word.”
Isolde imdiately stood. “Yes, Mistress Solana.”
Her ntor nodded and swept toward the door, the grimoire trailing obediently in her wake. Isolde hurried to follow. Behind them, so of the other students sighed in frustration; her perceived favoritism toward the quiet, late girl had once again dashed their hopes of asking for special assistance.
In the hallway, Mistress Solana was waiting. As Isolde approached, she held out a thin sheaf of papers.
“My lecture notes,” she said simply. “Return them to this afternoon after you've copied them.”
Isolde took them with both hands, her head bowed. “Thank you, Mistress Solana.”
“It is nothing,” Solana replied, her expression softening almost imperceptibly as she looked at the earnest girl. She turned to leave.
“Mistress Solana!”
The ntor stopped and turned back. “Is there sothing else?”
Looking into those calm, steady eyes, Isolde felt a sense of peace. Her ntor might seem distant, but she was a truly good person. “My summoning mark… it's been strange these last two days.”
At this, Solana's gaze sharpened. “What has happened?”
“Sotis it glows and feels hot to the touch. It happened again this morning,” Isolde explained, holding nothing back.
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Solana listened intently, and the tension in her shoulders visibly eased. So, it's not a rejection or a curse. It's an advancent.
She looked Isolde over, a flicker of astonishnt in her eyes. But this fast? The growth rate is incredible. To be so powerful that the advancent bled through the bond and manifested physically in the summoner… Solana found herself intensely curious about what manner of magical beast Isolde had managed to contract.
Seeing her ntor's prolonged silence, Isolde's own anxiety grew. “Is… is sothing wrong? Is it because I've been staying up late to ditate?”
Solana blinked, realizing she had been lost in thought. “No, child. Do not worry. This is a very good thing.” A rare, small smile touched her lips. “Congratulations, Isolde. Your partner is about to undergo an evolution.”
“It is?” Isolde's eyes widened, her confusion plain.
“Yes,” Solana confird, reaching out to gently ruffle the girl's fine, golden hair. It was as soft as spun silk. “You are a lucky one.” She withdrew her hand. “It is customary to offer a gift to one's partner after an advancent. It deepens the bond.”
Knowing Isolde's dire financial situation, Solana slipped a hand into the deep sleeve of her mage-robe. When it erged, she held a diamond-shaped crystal, within which a bead of orange fla swirled and danced. It was a high-tier fire magic crystal.
“Here. Take this and give it to your partner.”
Isolde recoiled as if stung. “Mistress Solana, I cannot.”
The refusal was expected. “An advancent is a difficult and crucial mont for any magical beast. This is a rare opportunity to strengthen your connection. Are you certain?”
“I…” Isolde hesitated. “I am sorry, Mistress Solana. I still cannot accept it.”
“I am not giving it to you for free. Consider it a loan. You can pay back when you are able,” Solana pressed, her voice turning persuasive. “Besides, if your partner receives no gift after such an ordeal, it might feel neglected. It could even lower its affinity for you.”
That struck ho. The bond with the partner she had never seen was already tenuous, its resistance palpable during the initial summoning. To have its favorability drop even lower would be disastrous.
Seeing Isolde waver, Solana took the girl's small hand and pressed the warm crystal into her palm.
“Pay back with one just like it soday. Or, if you feel you truly owe , make it two,” she said, the last part a gentle joke. Before Isolde could protest further, Solana turned and walked away.
Isolde stared at the crystal in her hand, then at her ntor's retreating back. A look of fierce determination hardened her golden eyes. She would pay her back. And she would make it two.
Half a month passed.
In the dead of night, Isolde slept fitfully in her small bed.
Ngh… A soft, pained whimper escaped her lips.
So hot…
Her eyes snapped open, and she sat bolt upright. A dazzling crimson light was emanating from her right hand, banishing the darkness and bringing with it an agonizing, fiery heat.
It burns!
The sensation was overwhelming, as if her very bones were being set alight. To stifle her screams, Isolde cramd a corner of her blanket into her mouth, biting down hard as waves of tornt washed over her. She could not make a sound. She could not wake her aunt.
The searing pain lasted for an eternity. When it finally began to recede, her small body was drenched in sweat, limp with exhaustion. Her head was foggy, her consciousness threatening to fray. All she wanted was to sleep.
No. Not yet.
With the last of her strength, Isolde forced her mind to focus. She channeled her inner mana, pushing the faint blue energy into the glowing sigil on her hand. A basketball-sized vortex of swirling white light tore open in the air before her.
Fighting against the crushing weight of sleep, Isolde took the fire crystal from her nightstand and shoved it into the portal.
The mont the crystal vanished from sight, her eyes rolled back into her head, and she collapsed into a deep, dreamless slumber.
In the dragon's cave, heavy eyelids scraped open.
A pair of vertical pupils, burning with an inner crimson fla, were revealed. As the wyrm's consciousness returned, the fire in his eyes slowly subsided.
Aiden pushed himself up, his scales scraping against the stone floor. He stretched his forelegs, extended his wings, and arched his back in a long, satisfying release of tension.
AOWWW… A resonant yawn echoed in the silent cavern. That was a good sleep.
Suddenly, a vortex of white light spiraled into existence directly in front of his snout. Aiden froze, watching with innate suspicion. A mont later, a single, orange, crystalline object dropped out of the portal and clattered onto the stone floor.
A magic crystal?
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