22!

Chapter 22: Durand the Red

-----

Draygor waited impatiently as the other students filed out of the classroom excitedly, throwing passing glances at him as they did so. Nhi’la, in particular, stuck her tongue out cheekily at him before she made her exit, sliding the classroom door shut behind her.

“It’s always such a pleasure teaching the young ones,” Durand mused as he watched the first-year students exit the class with a pleased look on his face.

“What did you want to talk about, professor?” Draygor asked as the door was shut.

“Well…” was all the old professor said before he spun around, throwing a metal ruler – that had seemingly appeared in his hands – straight towards Draygor. As he did so, several pieces of stationery floated up from the teacher’s desk, hovering for a split second before they too went flying straight towards Draygor at extreme speeds.

Of course, the shield Draygor had conjured before was still up. The pieces of stationery, consisting of pencils, scissors, and some chalk were halted before they could come into contact with Draygor, smashing into his transparent shield uselessly. The sturdier pieces of writing material clattered onto the floor as they slid off the shield, whereas the pencils and chalk practically exploded, sending splinters and chalk dust flying around the room.

Draygor flinched as the makeshift weapons impacted against the shield just inches from his skin. He had not expected to be assaulted in the Academy, by a teacher, of all people. The chalk dust obscured his vision slightly, but centuries of combat experience caused his momentary surprise to fade away as he stood up from his seat, ready for a fight.

Durand narrowed his eyes as he stared at the boy, and Draygor felt a little, barely noticeable pinprick at the back of his scalp, which he recognised as an attempt at entering his mind. The old man was good, Draygor had to admit, but the attack wasn’t too effective. It was like a battering ram against a reinforced, layered steel gate. All it served to do was give Draygor a slight headache. After a few tries, the professor retreated from his attempt, collapsing into his chair with a hand to his head, seemingly exhausted.

“I hope there’s a good reason for this… assault, professor, or I will be forced to act in self-defense,” Draygor spoke after a moment, a clear hint of anger and caution in his voice, his tail coiling tensely behind him. He decided to hold back his hand, seeing as the attack had barely done anything to him, and that the professor was out of commission. The professor stared incredulously at his student, and Draygor took a menacing step forward to reiterate his point.

Durand clutched his stomach, laughing aloud – a little too hard, apparently, as the laughing fit soon turned into a coughing fit, his eyes tearing up from the effort. “Just… give me a moment to catch my breath, Draygor,” he asked, holding up a hand in surrender.

“Oh, I haven’t had that much fun in decades! I feel young again!” Durand exclaimed after he had calmed down, leaning back in his chair with a wide grin upon his face. “Please, do let your guard down, young Mithras,” the professor chuckled as he reached out with a hand, pulling a chair to him telekinetically and patting it, indicating that Draygor should take a seat.

Draygor moved cautiously toward his assailant, taking the seat without letting his guard down. “Explain. Now.”

“Oh, you remind me of your grandfather, though you’re much more mellow in character than he was. I taught him general magickal theory when he was your age, you know. That hot-headed little rascal,” Durand laughed softly as he recalled the memory. “I do apologise for my sudden actions, Draygor. A bad habit from my youth, that. I was – well, it seems I still am – a pretty reckless teacher, always acting before I thought things through. The students called me the Red Demon,” he explained, referring to the blazing gleam in his reddish pupils. Draygor simply stared at the man, though he did relax a little.

“I do hope you’ll keep that nickname a secret. It was pretty embarrassing being referred to as such,” Durand added sheepishly. “Perhaps we could come up with a nickname for you too, eh?” he joked, eyeing Draygor’s uniquely coloured scales. Draygor stared impassively in return, and the professor continued to the topic at hand. “Now, I’m sure you’ve at least partially guessed the reason for my rash behaviour…”

Draygor did indeed, though he didn’t exactly believe it himself. “You noticed my shield, and decided to test it out?”

“Spot on! Of course, you were in no real danger even if I had gotten past your shield; I’m not that reckless, to physically hurt a student of mine. Though, I didn’t expect the shield to hold. It was impressive, I must say,” Durand grinned. “You didn’t think it’d get past my attention, did you? It was plain as day to me, though I suspect only a handful in the Academy can say the same. There are a few of us who have seats in the Mage’s Council, after all,” he added with a wink.

Draygor stayed silent, clearly guilty of the thought. It was hard to believe that the old professor was one of the leading authorities of magick in Gar’nashia, if that was what was being implied. Most on the Council hid their identities, and there was no way to find out, unless one made it onto the Council themselves. It wasn’t the first time he’d judged someone’s capabilities by their looks, and he chided himself for it. It was a bad habit formed in the days where Elyian nobles sucked up to him for favours, though he rarely indulged them.

“I have to say… I hadn't expected a first year student to be able to conjure a shield, and one of decent strength as well. Not to mention that you've just only started attending classes, much later than the other first years. Did Lukas teach you that? Well, it doesn't matter if he did. You are the most capable young mage I’ve ever seen in all my years, and if my judgement is right, you still have many tricks up your sleeves. I can see why Sah’ra came to me with your special request. Very well, you’ll have the right to skip out on my classes, at least for the beginner ones. As for the more advanced lessons, hmm… we’ll see, eh?” Durand said thoughtfully.

“Would it be too much to ask if you’d attend the beginner classes as well, though? I do get bored repeating the same stuff every year to students, and you are an interesting young man. You’d be very welcome company indeed. How about it, Draygor? Care to indulge an old man near his deathbed?” the old professor chuckled weakly. Durand suddenly seemed very old and weak as he slouched in his chair, but Draygor could tell it was all an act. The sharp light in his eyes gave it away, though the illusion of a weak old man was perfect otherwise.

“You’re hardly near your deathbed, not with those movements you pulled off before,” Draygor pointed out, referring to the nimble movements Durand had made just moments before. The professor’s request did sound enticing though, as Draygor thought back to the comment Durand had made about sitting and chatting during the lesson.

“I’ll drop by every once in a while… if I have the time, AND as long as you don’t attack me without warning again,” Draygor relented as he turned to exit the classroom, hoping that he wouldn’t regret the decision.

Durand watched as his newest student closed the door behind him, a wide smile upon his face. “Does this mean I can chuck things at the boy if I give him a warning in advance?” he pondered jokingly, before shaking his head slightly at the thought. He sat for a moment longer, before flicking his hand at the mess he’d created, causing the tables and chairs to rearrange themselves and the stray bits of stationery floating either into the bin, or back onto the desk. Satisfied that the classroom was back in its original condition, Durand turned to leave, his books and teaching materials hovering in tow behind him.

-----

Draygor pushed his way through the throng of students, eager to have his lunch as well. The mages academy building was smaller than most of the other buildings, especially compared to the multiple buildings under the warrior school, due to its much smaller annual intake of merely a few hundred students. Despite this, the hallways were still packed, with eight years’ worth of students on varying floors. Due to the number of people, Draygor – like everyone else – was jostled around uncomfortably.

A hand pushed Draygor suddenly, and he almost tripped. Catching his balance unceremoniously, he turned to berate the culprit behind the deliberate shove. The one who had pushed him was Nhi’la, and she giggled aloud as he fixed her with a fierce glare. “What was that for?”

“Just a greeting,” she laughed. “Come on, lighten up! That frown will stay on your face permanently if the wind changes!” she continued, reciting an old wives tale as she slapped him on the back.

“The professor said your name was… Draygle, right? That’s a funny name,” Nhi’la observed. “Why did you enter the Academy so late after everyone else? I thought you’d have to wait till the next year if you missed the admission tests,” she asked, her eyes studying Draygor curiously.

“Firstly, my name is Draygor, not… Draygle. How did you even come up with that? They don’t even sound the same,” Draygor corrected. “And secondly, that’s really none of your business. We’ve just become classmates and I don’t even know you,” he pointed out bluntly.

“Hmmm,” Nhi’la hummed as she put her hand up to her chin in thought. “Well, I’m Nhi’la Glasen. I’m eight years old this year. My scales are dark brown, and my hair is of the same colour. My eyes are… bur-gen-dee? I think that’s how it’s pronounced, I can’t remember how grandpa said it. I have pretty good aptitude with mind magicks, and I’m a big fan of Elias, or the White Death as others call him. I like – ” she rambled on as she introduced herself excitedly.

“It’s pronounced burgundy,” Draygor corrected her again, raising his voice slightly so that he could be heard over the noise of the crowd. “Did you say Glasen? Are you related to the Royal Advisor somehow?”

“Yep! Grandpa’s the best ever! I want to be like him one day,” the girl gushed as she spoke affectionately about her grandfather. Clearly, she thought very highly of him. “It’s a shame that he couldn’t teach me magicks since he can’t use them, but he’s the very best and strongest warrior around! Perhaps only Elias would have been able to beat my grandpa!”

“I see…” Draygor noted. It was just a passing observation. “Why do you like Elias then? Aren’t you aware of the many monstrosities that he committed? I’m sure many people were celebrating at the news of his death. Surely your grandfather doesn’t think too highly of him?” he said, pointing out what he thought to be the truth about his old self.

A frown came upon Nhi’la’s childish features, and Draygor could see a small hint of anger in her eyes. “That’s what those who know nothing of him would say, and they’re stupid for believing it. You’re stupid for believing it. He only did what he had to do for the Ely, and he was certainly not the only guilty party in the war. Everyone involved on both sides was at fault, and yet he was the one that took most of the blame. I’ve read Elyian history books and all of them give accounts of how he saved the lives of countless Ely over his lifetime. He kept them safe, and allowed his people to live in peace and prosperity. How can people say that he was a monster, when he was a selfless protector all along?” Nhi’la reasoned, nearly shouting as she finished the last sentence.

A few of the students walking close to them gave her weird glances at her small outburst, shifting themselves slightly away from the pair. It was embarrassing, but at least they weren’t being shoved around anymore, a result which Draygor noted satisfactorily.

“I was just stating general opinion, not my own…” Draygor stated in his defence. “I know what he did wasn’t right, but it was not wrong either. Besides, you can’t deny that his reputation did take a huge plunge after the whole thing.”

“Well, I disagree with general opinion very much. Even grandpa said that Elias was a good person after learning about his history, and that his actions during the war were not entirely his fault,” Nhi’la pouted, having calmed herself down. “At least it seems that you don’t condemn him as much as others do, and that’s a start. I think we’ll be good friends!” she grinned as she slapped him on the back again, unaware that the very person she admired was in her presence, albeit in a different body.

Draygor sighed mentally at her declaration of friendship. He’d wanted to avoid her, but it seemed that it wouldn’t be possible to do that now. It also came as a pleasant surprise to hear about Stefan's opinion of himself.

“So, now that you know more about me, it’s your turn to tell me more about yourself!” she continued before Draygor could get a word in. “You still have to tell me why you entered the Academy so late! Were you in an accident or something? Oh, oh! What about your scales? I’ve never seen white ones before, can I touch them? They look so pretty!”

Introducing himself properly wouldn’t do any harm, Draygor decided, and thus he gave her a brief introduction of himself and his family, though he left out many of the juicy details of his life. “And no, you can’t touch them,” he said drily, swatting her hand away as she attempted to sneak up on his scales. “As for the other matter, maybe your grandfather will tell you,” he suggested. She’d gotten the crux of the issue right, but he wasn’t about to tell her more. He wasn’t opposed to Stefan giving her the details though, if the old man so wished.

“Huh? What do you mean? Why would grandpa know about what happened to you?” Nhi’la asked, her confusion clear. Draygor simply smiled and shrugged in response, leaving her to ponder what he meant as they continued making their way to the closest cafeteria.

-----

The cafeteria was noisy. Very noisy. Hundreds of students chatting as they had their meals would do that. It was only one of the many eating places around the Academy; one central cafeteria would not fit the huge student population after all.

Someone who was usually talkative was quiet, however. Draygor had managed to stump Nhi’la with his cryptic statement, and she stayed silent as her mind ran through the many possibilities behind his words. She’d pestered Draygor during the remainder of their journey to the cafeteria, but he’d kept mum, immune against her efforts.

All of a sudden, she was startled from her thoughts as a tail slammed into the side of her new friend with a loud ‘whap’. Draygor doubled over, more in surprise than pain, turning to look at the new arrival. The impact had been loud, but whoever it was had held back. “Hey, Dhi’na,” he greeted his childhood friend, giving her a small hug. As soon as his hands were around her, he reached down and began to tickle her at the waist.

It didn’t take long before Dhi’na’s usual stoic demeanour dissipated, laughing uncontrollably at the unexpected assault. “A-alright stop, I give up,” she said in between giggles, trying to catch her breath, and Draygor grinned at his victory. They had become closer upon his return from his disappearance of three years, and she had become more comfortable with expressing her emotions around him.

Nhi’la watched the scene with an amused smile, before her curiosity got the better of her. “Who is this, Draygor?”

-----

The three of them managed to find a table, after Draygor had introduced the two girls to each other. While Nhi’la was her usual bubbly self throughout, Dhi’na was much more reserved with her new acquaintance, at least until Nhi’la brought up Draygor’s trials during their lesson.

“And the professor just spit all over him throughout the entire class! I wanted to warn him at first, but it was the only empty seat left, and I couldn’t give up the opportunity to prank the new student. You should have seen his face, Dhi’na!” she burst out laughing as she recalled the events of the lesson. Draygor glowered at her as she brought it up, causing Dhi’na to giggle aloud when she noticed his expression. Soon, his childhood friend was telling their new friend all about his embarrassing moments when he was younger, though Dhi’na skirted around the issue of Draygor’s absence from school whenever Nhi’la brought it up.

Their conversation was cut short when a bell tolled again, signalling that the afternoon classes were to begin soon. “Come on, girls, or we’re all going to be late for our classes,” Draygor reminded them.

“Aww, we were just getting to know each other better too!” Nhi’la sulked as she clung onto Dhi’na, unwilling to leave her new friend to return for more classes. “Why don’t we meet at lunchtime again tomorrow?” Dhi’na suggested with a smile, patting Nhi’la softly on the head. “It’s a date!” the other girl replied excitedly, hugging Dhi’na tightly again as they prepared to leave.

“I’ll see you after school, Dhi’na,” Draygor added, giving her a little wave as they separated for their respective classes.