Dragonheart Pact

A text message from my bank vibrates in my pocket. I stare at the screen with the same chilling sensation one gets from an ice-cold bath. “Balance: -300 credits. Pending university payment: 1500 credits. Deadline: Friday.”

Riven leans against the desk, his cane propped against the seat. His amber eyes, serious as always, remain fixed on the chalkboard filled with complex equations.

“Red numbers again, Bran?” His gravelly voice barely rises above the class’s murmur.

I put my phone away. The cold sweat is already trickling down the back of my neck. “I have to pay the monthly fee by Friday. If I don’t secure half a mission by then, I’m not getting into class on Monday.”

Riven lets out a raspy sigh. I already know that sound. “Easy mission in two days. You have to pay the fee, right? You won’t find anything low-risk that pays that much. Not for an E-rank.”

“I know, damn it. I’ll ask Mirel.” I open my cell phone and search for her contact. The hold tone drags on. I bite my thumb.

“Hello?” Mirel’s voice is calm, efficient. The background noise of a bustling guild almost swallows it whole.

“Mirel, it’s Brandom. I need a favor. Is there any low-rank mission, something I can wrap up in one or two days, you know… with good pay?” The question sounds like a plea. I can’t believe I’m the one saying it.

She doesn’t laugh. She doesn’t play around. “Hello, Brandom. University urgency again? Nothing for two people, I’m sorry. The easy ones, the truly easy ones, require teams of five. Some route clearing. They pay well if there are five of you for the shifts, but the guild won’t let them be taken with fewer.”

I close my eyes. “Damn it.” My back hits the seat rest.

“I could ask others, I suppose.”

Riven gives me a light tap on the leg with his foot. I shake my head; I know what he’s thinking.

“I have someone for the group,” Riven interrupts, his gaze fixed straight ahead. “I’ll ask them during the break.”

I pull out my phone. I enter the chat for my first-year combat practice group. “Anyone for a quick mission, daily pay? Team of five, looking for two spots. Leaving today after class.” I send the message.

Two notifications arrive almost instantly, with the names of Javi and Sara. They’re from my class. A minuscule relief washes over me.

“Perfect. Tell them we’ll meet at the main entrance once we leave class, alright?” Riven nods. Four. Just one more spot.

We step out into the bustling crowd of the hallways. The murmur of hundreds of voices crashes against the University walls. I head toward the main exit, dodging a group of second-year students arguing about the power of their aura. I look at them as if they were from another world. When will I learn to control it like them?

At the entrance, by the stone columns, I spot Riven. He’s with a girl. Orange hair, tied up in a high ponytail, with a few stray strands framing her face. Short, almost skeletal. She reminds me of a gazelle. She wears the middle school uniform, but the looseness of the fabric only makes her look even thinner. Her face has soft lines, and the way her golden, almost transparent eyes observe every movement around her tells me there’s something about her that doesn’t fit her appearance.

I approach, and Riven gives a nod.

“Bran, this is Keila,” he says in his usual gravelly voice.

Keila looks me up and down. Her eyes linger on my hands, on my arms. A silent assessment. Her expression doesn’t change.

“Hi, Keila. Nice to meet you.” I raise my hand in greeting. She barely twitches her fingers. “Well, Riven, are you sure? I don’t mean to offend, but... is she really ready for this?” I gesture vaguely toward her, trying to soften the question. “Missions can be tough. And for five people...”

Riven steps to her side and places a large hand on the girl’s shoulder.

“She’s part of my group.”

“Ah.” A shiver runs through me. She has no business being here. She’s just a kid. “No wonder Riven seemed so calm... she has the same steely gaze. Though she is... more adorable.”

A stupid smile spreads across my face.

Without thinking, I reach out and pat her head. Her hair is soft, like cotton, but the gesture doesn’t last long.

Keila swats my hand away with a sharp smack that catches my fingers. It doesn’t hurt me, but it startles me. Her gaze is pure ice. A low growl escapes her throat, almost imperceptible, like the grinding of two stones.

“She’s sixteen,” Riven blurts out, his arms crossed. His face shows no anger, rather a resignation I already recognize.

My eyes widen in shock.

“Sixteen? But she looks fourteen, tops!”

I look at Keila. She still has the same stone-cold face. A flush rushes to my cheeks.

“Shit. I’m sorry, really. I thought you were... you know. Much younger.”

The silence stretches on.

“Don’t underestimate me,” Keila says. Her voice is deeper than I expected. She doesn’t sound like a little girl. It’s a low, dark contralto that pierces right through. “I’m here because I know what I’m doing. And I don’t need to be treated like I can’t defend myself.”

I swallow hard. The heat rises to my face. My cheeks burn. I look at Riven, as calm as ever.

This is going to be a long trip.

“Well, whatever.” Riven breaks the silence. “The other two should be arriving soon. We need to go get your gear.”

Heavy footsteps echo down the hallway. Javi, a blond behemoth in light armor with a hammer that looks like a toy on his back, appears alongside Sara, agile and dark-haired, with two daggers gleaming at her waist. They are already prepared. Seeing them brings me a little relief; their presence is like a security blanket, a promise of brute force and experience.

“Bran,” Javi says, giving me a slap on the back that nearly knocks the wind out of me. He has no idea about the disaster I just had with Keila. “Ready for action, eh.”

I shake my head, my cheeks still hot. “I need my gear.” I look at Keila. She crosses her arms, one eyebrow raised, her eyes locked on Riven. I’m certain the smack on my hand wasn’t just a reflex.

Riven nods. “Let’s go, Bran.” He turns toward the University dorms. “Keila will go to the armory; they’re already waiting for her.”

Permission? That kid handles bows. I can’t imagine her with a weapon. A knot forms in my stomach. “Your permission? Shouldn’t you come with us?”

Keila shakes her head, her gaze icy.

“My gear is special. They don’t just hand it to me anywhere.”

“I nod, but I keep turning over what she just said. If Riven thinks this can work out well, I’d better not screw it up.” The hallway narrows, and Riven walks beside me. I can still feel the residual heat from Keila’s slap on my hand, a faint tingling. I rub the area.

“Why did you never tell me you had a sister?” I ask, my voice lower than I intend. The words slip out almost without thinking. “She looks so… little. And adorable. Really, she doesn’t look like your sister.”

“There isn’t much to tell,” Riven replies without looking at me. His gaze remains lost down the hallway. “She and I… we’ve always been apart.”

His tone is dry, sharp. There is no more room for questions.

We reach my room. I grab my backpack, my short sword, and my shield. It’s heavy, but it gives me a sense of security. Riven waits for me at the door, impatient. We quickly return to the exit, where Javi and Sara are waiting alongside Keila. She already has a longbow and a quiver full of arrows strapped to her back. The bow is almost as big as she is. “I swallow my comment, but I’m no longer so sure this is a simple mission.”

The train awaits us. The whistle of the locomotive sounds like a warning. The journey to Nareth begins now.

We board the train in silence. The third-class seats are hard, but it’s what we can afford. Keila sits by the window, her bow resting against her shoulder. Sara takes the seat across from her, legs crossed, with her daggers resting at her waist. Javi takes the spot next to her, and Riven settles in beside me, staring straight ahead.

The train lurches forward with a jerk that pushes us against the backrests. The wheels screech on the rails, and the car is filled with the constant metallic clatter.

“How much longer until we get there?” Sara asks, adjusting one of her daggers.

Riven answers without taking his eyes off the front. “Three hours. Enough time to go over the plan.”

Keila barely tilts her head. “Plan? I thought we were just going to clear out goblins.”

“Not exactly,” Javi says, frowning. “Mirel said they’ve been attacking trade routes. If a group of goblins is doing that, it’s not a small problem anymore.”

Keila glances at me out of the corner of her eye, then at Riven, as if evaluating the response. “Then someone is moving them.”

Sara nods, serious. “Or someone is giving them more courage than they ought to have.”

I feel a knot in my stomach. Organized goblins mean trouble. It means there’s something else behind it.

“And what if there’s more than we expect?” I ask.

Riven barely turns his head toward me. “Then that’s why we’re going together.”