Gatekeepers Book 2: Galeforce

“Do it.”

Upon Theravor’s command, Reothad, Damrabe, and Vertex all took action. As Damrabe and Vertex leapt out of the window at the front of the top box, Reothad extended his right foot forward. A thin trail of frost shot from his foot and across the floor, exiting through the window and snaking its way through the spectators as it reached the barrier. It penetrated the barrier and quickly reached Draycos and Clyad’s positions. Large ice spikes abruptly shot up from the ground where the two fighters laid, completely encasing their bodies in ice as a cool mist covered the arena floor.

Damrabe and Vertex had reached the part of the barrier where Draycos’s final attack had been stopped. One of the Managuard mages producing the barrier had been standing right behind the wall, and he had fallen down to the floor after the large-scale magic attack had failed to penetrate the barrier. He was obviously hurt and exhausted after bearing the brunt of the attack, so Damrabe flicked a drop of his blood on the unconscious dragon while Vertex pointed at the arena floor with his right index and middle talons extended. The coliseum vibrated slightly as the rift Draycos’s attack had gouged out gradually closed itself up, restoring the arena floor. A light tap on the barrier from one of Vertex’s claws was enough to repair the cracks in the barrier, making it whole once more. The actions of all three dragons took no longer than a few seconds.

Reothad sighed as he retracted his right foot back to its prior position. “All done, sir,” he told Theravor. “Draycos and Clyad are both safe from any further harm now; they should both be transported to the infirmary immediately so their wounds can be treated.”

“Excellent work,” Theravor praised. “I must say, even though I’ve seen it countless times before, your Ice magic truly is incredible. Not every Ice-type magic user can instantly freeze multiple targets at once and place them in a suspended state of animation.”

Reothad shook his head, somewhat embarrassed by the king’s rare words of praise. “I’m flattered, but you really shouldn’t be focusing on me right now. There are other matters of importance you need to address at the moment.”

Theravor nodded. “Indeed. While I tend to said matters, why don’t you take Draycos and Clyad to the infirmary and have Damrabe work on them? He’s the only one capable of reattaching that severed arm, anyways.”

Reothad bowed and quickly exited the top box without a word. Theravor sighed and stood up from his throne.

“Let’s go,” he announced. “We need to tell the spectators not to worry about the barrier possibly being destroyed. It’s the only reason why we can have an event like this open to the public, so most of them are sure to be rattled by the fact Draycos did some visible damage to it now. By the time we finish our business here, their treatment should be done.”

“Honestly, what was that brat thinking?” Vinzgar growled as he and everyone else rose from their seats. “I can’t believe he actually went and damaged the barrier.”

Zero laughed as the group made its way to the door. “I highly doubt he was going for that. Was probably just trying to fire off the strongest attack he could manage and ended up doing that by accident.”

Boreta sighed. “You’re probably right. But having to deal with all the messes he makes is starting to be a real headache.”

Draycos groaned as he came to. The first thing he noticed was that he was extremely cold; his whole body was already shivering before he even opened his eyes. He opened his eyes and sat up, taking a look at his surroundings as he rubbed his arms in an attempt to warm himself.

He was laying in a bed in the familiar infirmary he had been in after his assessment exam. His bed had been shoved up against the far wall with no windows, and a fire roared in the fireplace to the left of his bed. He had no memory of the fireplace being there on his last visit.

“I see you’re already awake.”

Draycos snapped his head to the left and saw Damrabe squatting low to the ground next to a bed on the other side of the fireplace. Someone occupied the bed, though Draycos couldn’t see their face. Judging by the hair he could see, though, Draycos assumed that Clyad was in the bed. Draycos shook his head, puzzled.

“How long have I been out?” he asked, teeth chattering. “And why the hell am I so cold?”

Damrabe chuckled. “You’ve been out for only about thirty minutes or so. And Reothad froze you and Clyad after the two of you past out so you wouldn’t lose any more blood. You were both in critical condition at the end of your fight, but you’re already treated, and I just finished Clyad’s treatment, as well.”

Draycos threw the sheets off and pulled the front of his new, clean shirt up. The gashes Clyad had given him had already completely closed up, not even leaving a scar.

“Damn,” Draycos commented, impressed. “You’re healing magic really is something else.”

Damrabe snorted. “Healing you was much easier than it was with Clyad,” he grunted. “You cut off Clyad’s entire left arm with that last attack of yours, and it’s a pain for me to help someone regenerate a limb. I just reattached his arm for the time being, so in a few days, he should be back to full strength.”

The last few seconds of the fight were a bit hazy for Draycos, but he could recall seeing Clyad’s left arm lying on the ground. The mere thought of it made him queasy, and he put a hand over his mouth as if he was going to be sick.

“Ugh, I really didn’t mean to do that to him,” he groaned. “I can’t really stand the sight of blood, except for my own. Nothing against you, though,” he quickly added as Damrabe gave him an unusual glance. “I just don’t think being a medic is anywhere in my future.”

“Medic?” Damrabe tilted his head to the side in confusion upon hearing the new word, but shook his head to clear those thoughts. “Anyways, Theravor is going to be here shortly to ask you a few questions about that fight, so sit still for a few moments.”

Just then, the handle of the door on the other wall turned with a loud click, and Theravor stepped into the room, closely followed by Vertex and Poseidon.

“Speak of the devil, here he is now,” Damrabe said as he rose to his feet, bowing slightly to the king as he drew close. “I presume the rest of the council is watching the second semifinals match?”

Theravor nodded. “Yes, we couldn’t very well have everyone leave the coliseum and not observe the second match today. Balara is most definitely going to win, though, but we still have to be present for all matches during the games. The three of us are all that could make it.” He turned his gaze over to Draycos. “I trust that you’re already healed since you’re up and about?”

“Yeah, Damrabe is something else,” Draycos responded, rotating his right shoulder to relieve some stiffness in it. “Anyways, Damrabe just told me you were coming to ask a few questions about the fight just now. Whacha wanna know?”

Vertex growled softly at Draycos’s words, but Theravor raised a hand to stop him from taking action. “It’s alright, Vertex. I don’t mind his casualness. Just take it easy, alright?”

Vertex stepped down and gave a slight bow. “Yes, sir.”

“Now, then.” Theravor returned his attention to Draycos. “Let’s start off with something simple. Draycos, have you seen yourself since waking up?”

“Huh?” Draycos was caught off guard by the unexpected question. “No, I haven’t. Why do you ask?”

Poseidon pointed at Draycos, and a thin sheet of water appeared right in front of Draycos’s face, surprising Draycos so much he nearly fell off the bed. It was like looking at a square section of the top of a fast moving river, and Draycos could see his own reflection in it as he peered at the sheet. He noticed the differences immediately.

“Woah, what?!” he shouted. “What happened to my hair and eyes?!”

“So you really didn’t notice,” Theravor sighed. “Look, Draycos; your hair and eyes changed to that color the instant you successfully used Mana Overload. I was expecting them to return to normal after you ran out of magic, but it looks like it’s more permanent than I originally thought. Appearance-wise, you look like an ordinary human now.”

Draycos continued to stare at his reflection in shock, too stunned to process this sudden change in his appearance. Poseidon snapped his fingers, and the sheet of water disappeared with a loud pop, splashing Draycos in the process. Draycos shook the water from his hair and glared at Poseidon in irritation, his eyes and hair turning back to their original colors.

“Do you mind?” he snapped. “I don’t mind a bath after a hard fight, but that’s just ridiculous!”

“Ah, there we go,” Vertex announced as the other three dragons chuckled. “All it took was to irritate you and your hair and eyes went back to normal.”

“Anyways, back to the conversation,” Theravor restarted. “That technique you used at the end of the match; do you know what it is?”

“Yeah,” Draycos relied, nodding his head. “Clyad told me all about it when he used it himself. So, I thought I might give it a try, since he was able to do it.”

“He explained the process to you?” Theravor asked. He could hear the two conversing from his throne in the top box, but he asked anyways for clarification. Draycos nodded again. Theravor sighed and covered his mouth with a hand as he gazed quizzically at Draycos for a few moments. Draycos grew concerned from this reaction, as he could tell that something worried the Dragon King.

“Did I end up doing something wrong?”

Theravor shook his head. “No, you didn’t. Well, not exactly, anyways.”

What the hell does that mean?

“I need you to understand the weight of your actions during that fight just now,” Theravor told him. “That technique, Mana Overload, is an extremely powerful asset for anyone who can use it. However, the amount of training and focus required to use it is quite ridiculous, and only a handful of beings among the races more gifted in magic, such as elves and dragons, are able to achieve it.”

“But Clyad was capable of using it, and he’s human.”

“Clyad’s case is understandable, to some degree. I heard him mention it took him twenty years of training to produce any results. It takes half that, at most, for elves and dragons to learn Mana Overload completely. Clyad’s probably capable of it due to the many long years of intense training he spent learning it, and his natural gift with mana puts him near the top of the entire human race.”

Draycos looked at the floor and said nothing. He was beginning to see where Theravor was going with this.

“However, you come along. Although you’ve only been able to use magic for the last week, you went and successfully used Mana Overload on your first try. This feat was displayed in front of an entire coliseum full of spectators. Mana Overload is common knowledge in this world, and those able to fully utilize it usually end up becoming quite famous, contributing to the world in some form or another. The fact that you were able to use it so easily is sure to raise some eyebrows, and people will begin questioning who and what you are.”

“So, in other words, I drew unnecessary attention to myself that will end up hindering the Dragon Council in the long run?” Draycos summarized, guessing at what Theravor was hinting at.

Theravor nodded. “That’s right, and we’ve now been forced to take extreme measures to counter the actions you took during the fight. Our plan is to send you down to the surface to search for the Orb undercover, but if everyone knows who you are, then the whole endeavor would end up being fruitless.”

Draycos shook his head, unable to understand what Theravor was saying. “I don’t get it,” he muttered. “How are you going to prevent the information from leaking out? The entire coliseum saw what I did, and even if you had every one of them swear not to tell anyone, there’s bound to be plenty of people who would break their word.”

Damrabe sighed. “It’s not as hard as it seems, Draycos,” he told the boy. “You see, everyone who lives down on the surface think dragons are nothing more than legends.”