Being the number one antidote against an akumon attack, corabane was very much in high demand. Akumons could smell the substance in a person’s blood and would dare not attack that person. If an akumon came into contact with even a drop of blood tainted by corabane, they would be paralysed immediately, leaving them vulnerable to death by fire. Of course, the pact prevented akumons from feeding on people’s hearts. But there was a loophole. If an akumon attacked a person without touching their heart, they would be immune to the curse of the pact. And this was why having corabane was such an important thing.
But it didn’t come cheap. Many of the ingredients needed for making corabane were very hard to come by, and even if available on the black market, still very expensive. Moreover, it needed a group of complex spells to bind all the ingredients together. Even the smallest of mistakes could ruin the whole thing. That wasn’t much of a problem for Agatha since she was rather skilled in making corabane and potions of all kinds. Getting the ingredients was usually the problem. So, she often had a limited supply, selling a specific quota to various customers.
But he wanted more, and that was a problem.
“You know I only have two bottles per week for you,” she said.
Gabriel smiled, running his fingers through his thick moustache. “I know. And I’m saying I’d like you to double it.”
“Gabriel–”
“I know. I know. It doesn’t come cheap. But you also know I’ll pay good money.”
“Fine.” She sighed. He did pay good money. But more than that, he was a valuable connection to the Four Factions. “Why do you even buy from me when you have U-Force?”
Gabriel laughed heartily. “Why will I get it from U-Force when I have you?”
“Yeah, right.” Agatha rolled her eyes. “I’ll increase your supply starting next week. I barely have any left.” Had she any more left, she would have sold some to the young dragon and her warrior mage, hellbent on going into the Darklands to find Bullet. They’d been gone for over five hours now. She hoped they were okay.
“You alright?” Gabriel was watching her silently.
Agatha forced a smile. “Just had a long day... How’s your niece?”
Gabriel paused thoughtfully. If he thought Agatha was trying to change the subject, then he didn’t show it. Instead, he said, “She’s great... You know, except for the other thing.”
“Yeah,” Agatha muttered, a bitter smile on her face. “Send her my regards.”
“Will do.” Gabriel took his box, curtly saluted, and left the shop.
Today had been quite the busy day. It was already six pm. She should have closed an hour ago, but customers just kept pouring in. She had gone to put up the closed sign when Gabriel finally came over. Agatha didn’t expect him until tomorrow and had been surprised to see him. But thankfully, she had his supply ready.
Agatha locked the door and shut the blinds to her windows. She was just about to retire to her room upstairs when a loud knock on her door stopped her right in her tracks.
“We’re closed,” she said under her breath. The sign was right up there. Was the person incapable of reading or something? Ignoring it, she took another step. But the knock came again, this time harder and louder. “Jesus Christ, who the hell is that?”
Then the knock turned into full-on banging on her door, shaking the very foundation of her house. “What the fuck.” Who the hell was trying to break down her goddamn building? Frowning, Agatha lit her index finger with her mana, ready to scribe a spell at any minute. She didn’t have to wait long as the doors flung open with such ferocity that they almost tore off.
“What in the hell?” Agatha glared at the unwanted visitor, ready to hit them with her most powerful attack spell. But she instantly halted, confused by the very sight befalling her. Right in the middle of her room was a teary-faced Nawala cradling a bleeding, unconscious child in her arms.
“Agatha...” Nawala cried out. “Help me. Please.”
“Moon.” Agatha rushed towards the dragon and her warrior mage. “What happened? What the... is that an arrow?” She touched Moon’s forehead and then quickly withdrew her hand as soon as a numbing cold pierced through her skin. Her eyes widened in horror. That couldn’t be normal. There was no way a person’s temperature could be so low. He tried to feel Moon’s cold wrist for a pulse. “He’s still alive, but his pulse is faint. We need to act now. Come with me.” Agatha led the two upstairs to her bedroom. She pointed to the wide, empty bed. “Lay him sideways. I’ll get the arrow out.”
Nawala gently laid the unconscious Moon on his side such that neither his back nor front was touching the bed. The arrow, which had been broken off, stuck out of his back; however, the other half was still embedded in his body. Nawala held on to Moon to keep him from falling back.
Agatha rubbed her hands together, and her mana gushed out, wrapping around her palms. She hovered her palms over Moon’s wound, scribing a blood-clotting spell over it with the gentle movements of her fingers. “This will stop the bleeding when I pull out the arrow. While it was a fairly simple spell, it still used a good amount of mana. She’d have to be careful not to drain herself. Looking at Moon’s condition, she would need all the energy to treat him.
She stole a glance at Nawala, who seemed to be lost in a daze, her eyes red and swollen. Nawala might not have even heard anything she had said. Seeing the sorrowful state of the once proud dragon, a sadness weighed heavily on Agatha’s heart. She knew just how much a warrior mage meant to their dragon and vice versa. The bond between a flameborn dragon and their warrior mage was like the bond between one’s body and soul. When one was in pain, the other felt that pain. When one died, the other died in spirit. Agatha would not pretend she understood what it was like. But she had watched her sister suffer that pain. And now, she was watching Nawala suffer the same kind of pain.
Agatha emitted her mana in her palm and scribed a spell with a scanning intent. The scarlet spell of symbols transformed into a thick crimson mist and then wrapped itself around Agatha’s right hand like a glove. With the mist around her hand, Agatha hovered her palm over Moon’s wound. The presence of a metal full of dark and cold magic seeped through her skin. She frowned. This degree of coldness... There could only be one explanation. Luckily, no vital organs were touched.
Slowly, per the intent of her spell, the arrow retracted from Moon’s body, levitating into Agatha’s hand. She took a closer look, narrowing her eyes. Yep, definitely drakenite. There was no point in killing a warrior mage with a weapon made of a metal as rare as drakenite. A simple knife or gun would suffice. This arrow had been clearly meant for the young dragon, and yet somehow, it had been plunged into her warrior mage. Perhaps Moon had put himself in harm’s way to protect his dragon. That certainly sounded like something syrabonds would do for each other.
Thankfully, drakenite wasn’t as lethal to everyone else as it was to dragons. To a dragon, drakenite poisoning was certainly a death sentence. However, to a warrior mage, this would simply be like any normal arrow wound. Not that arrow wounds were not serious in themselves, but with Agatha’s wide assortment of herbs, potions, and healing spells, it shouldn’t be too difficult to heal Moon. Besides, Moon’s own magic was somehow fiercely keeping him alive, making things easier for Agatha. Had this been Nawala instead, she would have been unable to do anything but watch her die.
Shaking herself out of her gloomy thoughts, she instructed Nawala to take off Moon’s kimono and lay him down over his belly. Then she quickly went out of the room and shortly returned with a bucket of water in one hand and a first aid box in the other.
From the box, she took out a vial containing deep blue liquid. She released three drops of the potion into the water. After soaking a white towel and wringing it, she began to clean Moon’s wound ever so gently.
“What’s happening?” Wala asked. “What are those bubbles coming from his wound?”
“Impurities. The potion I put in the water detoxifies many infections and poisons.” She continued to wipe away the blood, only to rinse the towel in the bucket. “I made it using rose-vine, beetroot, and sumac. Then I bound them together with a toxin-expulsion spell.”
Normally, she wouldn’t tell others how she made her healing potions. But she needed to assure the dragon that she didn’t have to worry about the safety of her warrior mage. Things could go pretty badly if Nawala assumed that Moon was in danger.
“And it’s effective against drakenite poisoning?” The dragon narrowed her eyes sceptically.
“God, no. That will certainly make me a billionaire, don’t you think?” She chuckled, but Nawala just stared at her, not amused. Agatha’s smile froze. “Moon isn’t exactly poisoned by drakenite. He’s not a dragon.”
Nawala nodded, clenching her jaws. The guilt in her eyes was palpable. She was probably thinking that it should have been her, not Moon. She was probably blaming herself for taking Moon to the Darklands. Agatha wanted to tell her that none of it was her fault. That it was better this had happened to Moon, not her. After all, Moon had a chance of survival; Nawala, on the other hand, had zero.
Drakenite halted the ability of a dragon to heal, spreading its cold poison to every cell of their body. They would be tormented by excruciating pain for an hour or so until they were dead. She wanted to tell Wala that Moon did what he did because he didn’t want such a fate to befall her. But she knew from experience that it would fall on deaf ears.
The best thing she could do for the dragon—and everyone else, to be honest—was heal her warrior mage. It shouldn’t be hard to do, though. Once the detoxification was complete, she would nurse Moon back to health.
Agatha suddenly froze, the corner of her lips twitching. What the hell just happened? The bubbles had completely vanished, and the wound was as ghastly as ever.
“What’s happening?” It was Nawala, her voice colder than the dark energy from drakenite. “Why does he look even worse than before?”
“I-I don’t understand.”
“You don’t understand what?” The dragon glared at her.
The blood in Agatha’s veins chilled, and instantly, she knew that she was not safe. She might be the one trying to help Moon, but if he died on her watch, Nawala would certainly kill her. That murderous glare was by no means a mere intimidation tactic.
Agatha chose her words carefully. “That was not supposed to happen.”
“And yet it did happen.” Even before Agatha could say another word, the dragon had grabbed her by the neck, lifting her off the ground like she was nothing but a balloon. “Are you trying to kill my warrior mage? Are you a part of all this, too? Speak up.”
A part of this? What the hell did that even mean? While none of that made sense to her, she was certain that the enraged dragon would kill her if she did not do something. The heaviness settled in her chest as the dragon squeezed the very life out of her. Air, she needed air.
With her energy slowly waning, she struggled to scribe a spell before snapping her fingers in Nawala’s face. Agatha limply tumbled to the ground as the dragon was flung across the room and pinned against the wall. Nawala thrashed violently, yet she would not move an inch. All she could do was glare at Agatha with all the hate in the world. Shit, things were getting out of hand.
With such a powerful spell feeding off her mana for as long as the flameborn was in her captivity, it wouldn’t be too long until she was completely depleted of all energy. Agatha did not want to think about what would happen if Nawala were free. She needed to act quickly before the dragon did something stupid. Goodness, why were young dragons so fiercely stubborn and quick-tempered? For such intelligent and logical creatures, they surely became overly emotional and irrational when their syrabond was involved.
“Release me right now, and perhaps, I might kill you quickly,” Nawala thundered, as the browns of her eyes instantly transformed into the deep blues of the ocean. The rage emanating from her was almost tangible.
Agatha took a few steps back, her knees wobbling a bit. This was not the dragon trying to intimidate her. No. She was fucking livid, at the very edge of a murderous rampage. The darkness of Nawala’s emotions wrapped around Agatha like a smog, threatening to suffocate her.
And blue eyes? What the hell was that? When the emotions of flameborn dragons were heightened in their human state, their eyes became as golden as the sun, while those of scaleborns became blood red. But blue? She’d never heard of such a thing.
What the hell are you? No, that’s not important right now. She needed to talk some sense into the dragon.
“Nawala, you need to calm down.”
“You are telling me to calm down after trying to kill Yong-sun. Do you take me for a fool?”
“Oh my God, I’m trying to help him,” Agatha snapped in frustration. “Why the hell did you even bring him here if you didn’t think I could help?”
“That was before I knew your intentions. You just made his condition worse.”
“I swear that wasn’t supposed to happen. Something is wrong. And I’m trying to figure it out. But you’ll have to trust me. Please.”
“I’m finding that rather hard to do right now. I swear if something bad happens to him, I will–”
“Shut up, please. I’m trying to think.” Agatha’s breath came in short, heavy gasps. The spell she had used to capture the flameborn dragon drained a lot of mana, so it was taking a huge toll on her. But more than that, Nawala’s childish tantrum was driving her crazy. Honestly, the only reason she was trying so hard to save Moon was that she actually liked the warrior mage. From his serene energy, Agatha could sense that he was a kind and charming person, and the dragon could learn a thing or two from him. “You’re wasting my time, Nawala, and if Moon dies, it will be your fault.”
To Agatha’s surprise, Nawala actually shut up, looking utterly stunned. Agatha sighed. If things got out of hand, she would have to kill Nawala with the drakenite. But that wasn’t what she wanted. She wanted to save Moon’s life before it was too late. The warrior mage’s magic was strong. Stronger than anything Agatha had felt. It was currently the only thing keeping Moon alive, right now, or he would long have been dead. But they didn’t have much time. His magic couldn’t keep him alive forever. If anything, it was slowly fading away.
She needed to act quickly.
What did she do wrong here? Why did the potion not work? It’s never failed her before. What could be the problem? The cleansing potion she had carefully concocted herself would effectively purge out any toxins in the body. Instead, it ended up purging itself out of Moon’s body. It was almost like it rejected the warrior mage’s body. That didn’t make any sense. She’d treated her sister a few times with this very potion, and it had been just as effective. So why was it rejecting Moon?
She rubbed her sweaty forehead. Fatigue was slowly tearing through her. But she couldn’t think about that right now. She had to figure out what was going on. She had to know why her treatment wasn’t working on this warrior mage’s body. Moon’s body. And then Agatha stopped in her tracks, an idea blooming in her mind. The potion was not rejecting Moon because he was a warrior mage. It was rejecting Moon’s current body as a little white girl. That was not really Moon. It was merely a shape he was wearing.
Before she could continue with any treatment, Moon would have to transform into his original body. But how could he do that right now while he was still unconscious? Unless... Shit. She would need Nawala for that.
Agatha sighed as she stared into the furious eyes of the dragon. “Moon needs to transform into his original body. It’s the only way my remedy will work.”
A tinge of hope flickered in Nawala’s blue eyes. But in that very instant, that hope was crushed into smithereens, doubt clouding her gaze instead. “He can’t transform while he’s unconscious.” She was calmer, broken rather than angry.
“He can transform. I can show you how. But you have to promise not to harm me once I release you, Nawala. I’m the only one who can save Moon.”
Nawala paused for a moment. Then, without missing a beat, she said, “You have my word.”
Agatha nodded. The word of a flameborn dragon could not be taken lightly. They had their faults, including being honourable to a fault. All Agatha had to do was keep her end of the bargain, and Nawala would keep her word. God, if she was going through all this trouble for trying to save Moon’s life, she couldn’t imagine the unspeakable torment Nawala would inflict on those who had tried to take his life. A storm was coming. She could just feel it.
Agatha snapped her fingers to sever the invisible hold over Nawala.
She merely blinked, only to find the dragon standing a few inches from her, staring her down with blue eyes that slowly transformed into their original brown colour.
“What are you waiting for?” said Nawala, sitting beside Moon. She took his tiny hand into hers. “Tell me how he can get back to his original form.”
It wasn’t until Agatha exhaled deeply that she realised how long she’d been holding her breath. This was going to be a long night. “Shapeshifting is Moon’s innate gift. It’s not powered by a spell, so he doesn’t need to be conscious to use it.”
“Yeah, well, what difference does it make anyway? Moon doesn’t know his healing depends on shifting into his original body. So why will he change while he’s unconscious?”
Agatha smiled. Now they were getting somewhere. “That’s where you come in.”
“Me? How?”
“You’re syrabonds. You have access to Moon’s mind even in his unconscious state. If you go into his mind, you can get him conscious enough to shapeshift.”
Nawala narrowed her eyes, quietly considering Agatha’s words. “Okay, but even if that works, his body is too weak to actually shapeshift. Do you know how painful it feels to transform even when he doesn’t have an arrow sticking out of him? His bones have to break down and restructure themselves. His body is in no condition for that. It could kill him.”
“What are you talking about? You’re syrabonds. You can take all of his pain when you activate your bond.”
“Wait... I can?” Nawala gaped.
“Didn’t you know that? You know what? Never mind. Go ahead and syraspeak with him.”
How could the dragon not have known about something so crucial to their existence as syrabonds? Ah... Moon did say they were homeschooled.
Had they gone to the Academy of Mana and Flame like every other flameborn and warrior mage, they would have known about this. But that begged the question. How was it possible that Nawala and Moon never went to AMF? Every bound dragon and warrior mage would enrol at the academy soon after their syrabonding ritual.
Though Agatha was a regular mage, her younger sister, Moira, was born a warrior mage, meaning she was born with a connection to a flameborn dragon. This bond was made possible by the syra that appeared on the wrists of both the dragon and their warrior mage. After Moira and her dragon went through the syrabonding ritual, they enrolled at AMF. Such was the role of the Academy of Mana and Flame when it was established thousands of years ago—to serve as a home, refuge, and school for young flameborn dragons and warrior mages. The imperial dragon clans prided themselves on enrolling their wards at the academy.
Why would Nawala be an exception? Something was off about these two, Agatha thought as she studied Nawala and Moon silently.
The dragon held on to Moon’s hands, her eyes shut. Several seconds later, Nawala opened her eyes, a resigned look on her face.
A pit opened up in Agatha’s belly. “What happened?”
“He doesn’t want us to activate our syrabond.”
“What?” Agatha couldn’t help raising her voice. “Did you tell him it was the only way to save him? He could die.”
Seeing Nawala’s defeated eyes, Agatha sensed she was asking the wrong questions. “Why is he refusing?”
“I made a promise years ago to never activate it. Moon doesn’t want me breaking my word.”
Agatha smiled bitterly. She had long resigned herself to understanding the depth of the bond between dragons and their warrior mages. Sometimes it was even to the point of irrationality, and yet she believed it made perfect sense to the syrabonds. Right now, though, it was a life-or-death situation.
“If he doesn’t transform, you’re going to lose him. We’ve already wasted too much time. He needs to decide if he wants you to keep your word or lose him forever.”
A pretty brutal ultimatum, but it was necessary to show Moon what was more important. Nawala’s eyes reddened with tears, never once letting go of Moon’s hand.
Agatha simply watched in silence, not attempting to speak or console the dragon. She sensed that the syrabonds were still syraspeaking. Maybe Nawala was convincing Moon to stop being so stubborn, or perhaps, they were both saying their final goodbyes.
Agatha shook her head. Who would be so cruel to make a dragon promise never to activate her syrabond? That made no sense. It was like forbidding an eagle from flying or a tiger from having its stripes. More importantly, why did Nawala make such a dangerous promise?
When a dragon and a warrior mage activated their syrabond, they became one in body, mind and soul. Moira had once explained it as being a shared existence with her dragon as long as the syrabond was active. While they existed in individual bodies, they were the same in mind, body, and soul, experiencing each other’s past and present all at once. Agatha wouldn’t say she fully grasped what that felt like. But it surely sounded incredibly profound.
The sudden glow of a brilliant blue light on Nawala’s right wrist captured Agatha’s attention. It was the syra—a small circle with intricate patterns all over it—shared by both dragon and warrior mage. That could only mean one thing. Moon had finally agreed to activate their syrabond.
The body of the unconscious girl began to slowly morph into something else. And as her body changed—or more accurately, as her bones shifted, Nawala clenched her jaw tightly, her entire body trembling. But it was Moon’s shapeshifting that fascinated Agatha. His tiny bones and muscles thickened and elongated as he grew taller and taller, rapidly ripping apart his flower-patterned kimono. His blonde hair darkened like coal, growing so long it passed his waist.
And then Agatha froze in a trance, as a familiar sense of dread engulfed her like thick black smoke. This darkness. This gloom. She’d sensed it back when she’d first touched Nawala while they had come looking for Bullet. But unlike before, it was now a thousand times more unsettling. It felt like she was drowning in a bottomless deluge, and her lungs craved for air. Agatha rushed to open up the windows, taking in a deep breath. What the hell was that?
Just before she could even make sense of that, her jaws dropped at the sight of dozens of dark red storms swirling as far as the eye could see, like giant pillars of blood. They reeked of powerful magic. Unlike anything she’d ever seen.
“What the fuck,” she whispered. For a moment, she thought the city was about to be ravaged by cyclones. But as she began to make sense of the situation, nothing seemed out of place. In fact, people were going about their business, completely oblivious to the strange storm brewing with rage. It was almost like she was the only one who could see what was happening.
Wait... no. She wasn’t the only one. Across the street was Old June staring at the skies with wide eyes. He, just like Agatha, was a mage. And now she knew. The storm was invisible and could only be perceived by the supernatural. What could have caused this? She slowly turned to the direction of the syrabonds in her room. Agatha frowned. Could they be responsible? They must be. The magic in the storm... it was identical to what was emanating from the syrabonds.
Agatha quickly shut the windows and took a deep breath to regain her sanity. This ominous feeling... something terrible was about to happen. And she had no doubt it was all connected to the dragon and the warrior mage right here in her room. Who the hell were these people? What had Agatha gotten herself into?
“Are you okay?”
The voice startled Agatha out of her stupor. Nawala was staring at her with worry.
“Um...” Agatha cleared her throat. “Yes. I’m okay.”
“Well, are you going to help Moon or not?”
“Oh... right. Sorry.” Agatha quickly pranced toward the bed. Lying in the stead of the blonde white girl was a beautiful Asian man whose sturdy physique could have only been sculpted by the rigorous training of warrior mages. Even if Moon never went to the Academy of Mana and Flame, it was obvious that he took combat magic very seriously.
Now that Moon was in his original body, Agatha could begin the healing process.