Aarde is wandering through the ornately decorated halls of his, or rather his father's, palace in Nobele Strad when a young servant flags him down, "Master Aarde!"

"Yes?" Asks Aarde.

"Duke Hertog is having a meeting in ten minutes and would like to have both of his sons present," answers the page, "Lucht is already on his way."

"Thank you Knecht," thanks Aarde.

As he is walking he starts thinking, 'Those meetings tend to go for a while. I should probably visit the restroom now. Lets see the nearest is… The master restroom. Mom and dad would already be at the meeting so it should be empty.'

Opening the unlocked door he is greeted by the strong metallic smell of blood, 'Why would a restroom smell like blood?'

Stalking over to the closed curtain the first thing he notices is the blood red water that his unmoving mother is in.

"Mom?" asks Aarde, his voice catching in his throat. Reexamining the tub he can make out long cuts up her forelegs and a knife grasped in her claws. Putting his hand to her cold neck he finds no pulse as tears fall down his cheeks and sobs break free from his throat, "Mom no! No! Why would you do this? Why!"

As he is sobbing on the floor he hears a splash. Looking up he sees his mom staring at him with empty, dead eyes as a raspy, angry voice emanates from her, "Because of you!"

"H-how?"

"You knew I was struggling with the loss of my egg to those apes. You knew that for eleven years! Yet you did nothing!"

"But I did," chokes Aarde.

"Yes for a few months, but then you dumped me on that peasant lady. She never stopped moping and whining about the attack and how her precious purple egg was destroyed. It was her first egg and he was killed."

"You told me you didn't need any more help," supplies Aarde.

"Yet during those many dinners and meetings you never offered so much as a single word."

"B-but I thought,"

His father appears in the infinite black void he's suddenly found himself in, "She's right," he gets in Aarde's face, "Any son that caused their mother to kill herself is no son of mine."

A twisted version of Lucht appears, "Moms dead? Why haven't you told me?"

"I didn't want to hurt you."

"What a great job you did of that," scoffs the twisted Lucht, "You don't deserve to be called my brother."

As the dragons start to spin around him saying various insults a sharp overpowering scent makes its way into his snout yanking him, rather abruptly, out of the nightmare and into the waking world.

After a moment of disorientation his eyes land on Umbrae, "What happened?"

Umbrae's POV

"It was a Fear Fury, apparently. If Cynder wasn't here we would've been stuck in those nightmares forever."

"Cynder!" calls Aarde, "The terror of the skies. Malefor's servant! Why is she here!"

"We just barged into her home," exclaims Umbrae, "I would expect her to be here."

"Why hasn't she killed us?" Asks Aarde.

"I'm not proud of what I've done," mumbles Cynder almost inaudibly, "And he was the first dragon to not fear me."

"If you regret what you did, why do you still do it?" asks Umbrae.

"Because my master commands it," hisses Cynder, "I cannot refuse my master."

"Then why don't you just leave then?" Asks Umbrae,

"I-I can't."

"Why not?"

"If I even think of going against his will he-he punishes me," a tear rolls down her face.

"How?" He asks in what he hopes is a comforting tone, "What does he do?"

"He makes me feel nothing but pain whenever I try to run."

He turns to Aarde, "Where I come from thaumaturgy is the magic saints use to perform miracles, like purification. Do you think you can remove this 'masters' influence?"

"I think, but proper purification circles take a while to draw, it's a lot of symbols that need to be perfect. Not to mention I don't know how powerful and deep the corruption will go. It'll be faster with your help, draw me two six pointed stars, the second rotated forty five degrees," He starts to write glowing green symbols in the air.

"Right, how do I do that?"

"You need to channel your spirit core's energy to the tip of the talon you want to draw with and then just slightly beyond. From there you can draw anything, then manipulate it however you wish."

'How convenient, a six pointed star is the only type of star I can actually draw,' muses Umbrae as he draws the stars.

After a while Aarde completes the circle and lays it flat around Umbrae's stars, "Now you just need to step into it."

"What if this doesn't work?" Asks Cynder.

"If this doesn't work then I'd need to make an amplification crystal and one of the needed qualities would take months if not years to make."

As she takes a step towards the circle she stops before clutching the sides of her head, "No! I won't listen! I'm about to be freed from you."

With a scream she suddenly becomes wreathed in shadow and a new voice speaks, "You will not steal my servant that easily."

"How?" asks Umbrae.

"Judging by that journal you've stolen I can see you're a curious one, so I'll indulge you," answers the voice.

"I, Malefor, am speaking through my link with my servant here, a link that was established when she hatched."

"Why can't you go all Voldemort, take her body and use it?"

"The link is long and tedious to communicate through, I'd rather have my own body back. Now if you excuse me Terredor's crystal should be full soon. Actually hold on," the controlled Cynder exits through a door and the sound of flapping wings is heard before she returns with a scarlet vest, something that resembles pants equipped with a hole for his tail, a simple black crown inset with gems that match Cynder's eyes and a scarlet cloak with a hood and holes for his wings and horns, "Cynder wants you to have this. You'll need it to get past the apes. It's a sign that you are under Cynders protection."

"The crown seems a bit redundant considering the cloak has a hood," comments Umbrae.

"I had it commissioned by ape artisans and enchanted it to always fit the head it's on for Cynder," answers Malefor, "but apparently she thinks it's too ostentatious and would rather wear her armor."

"This may be my simple peasant mind speaking but I like it, it's shiny and looks cool."

"Glad somebody likes it," grumbles Malefor, "but Cynder really must go. She has important business to attend to."

After she leaves he turns to Aarde as he puts the outfit on, "Should we go? And don't worry I'll take it off before master Senex sees it, but it does look cool so I'll still keep it, just hidden."

It's roughly noon by the time they sneak back through the balconies to their rooms. After hiding his book and the treasure in his vanity drawer, the outfit in the chest at the foot of his bed, and places his sword on top of the vanity he exits to find Aarde waiting, "It's lunch time. The others will be in the cafeteria."

"Let's not mention this adventure to Senex," suggests Umbrae.

"As fun as that was I'll have to agree," nods Aarde, "She wouldn't be happy that we went against her will."

As they enter the cafeteria Umbrae speaks up, "That was a wonderful tour my favorite part was," he thinks back to what Aarde said before the adventure, 'the library holds books dating back to before the founding of the Order of Guardians', "The Library. It'll take months to read all those books. Assuming none of it is restricted."

"While other guardians will swear that knowledge is dangerous," says Senex, "I am in the camp of, 'it's not the knowledge that is dangerous but what you do with it'."

"So if theoretically, one was to read a journal written by a cultist you'd be fine with it? Theoretically of course."

"That's disturbingly specific," mumbles Płomień.

"Such a tome, if written by someone high up, would probably have descriptions of rituals conducted by the cultists. As long as you don't perform the rituals, it's alright to know about them. Especially how to safely stop them."

He nods, "So what's for lunch?"

"Something they've never had, Quesadillas," answers Płomień, "Or as close as I could get with the limitations of what I can find here," placing a quesadilla on Umbrae's plate she whispers, "That was way too specific. Next time think a little before speaking."

After eating the surprisingly delicious quesadillas Senex speaks up, "Next is combat training. If you have anything you wish to grab from your rooms, do it now."

Returning with his sword he notices the full plate armor on Płomień and Aarde and fine chainmail on Lucht.

Once they're all back together Senex leads them to what looks like a dojo, "Being a guardian is as much a spiritual process as a physical one. Here I will see how well you can fight before furthering your elemental prowess."

"Good!" Calls Lucht, "Now I can show this peasant what it's like to lose to a better."

"Not so fast," calls Senex as she raises her wing, "First I must see where they stand in terms of combat."

A single dummy appears, "First test. Fight however you prefer. The number of dummies will double each round until one lands what would be a fatal hit or you call it off. Veneneer, you are the youngest and most spry of us, you go first."

Entering the ring Veneneer slowly edges up to the dummy. Looking back towards the group Senex nods, "It won't attack until you hit first."

With a meek swat that doesn't leave any damage the dummy leaps to life as it swings its club causing Veneneer to let out a surprised scream that launches a glob of poison at the dummy that quickly eats through the straw and cloth dummy. With the second round two dummies appear next to each other before darting in opposite directions, when she attempts to pounce on one of them the other comes from the side and clubs her in the head.

As the dummies disappear Senex speaks, "You'll improve. Soon you'll be able to command your element flawlessly. Now Umbrae, when is your hatchday?"

He turns to Płomień and whispers, "Do they conveniently use the same months and days we do?" At her nod he continues, "May fifth."

She turns to Lucht, "And you?"

"June sixth."

"Lucht you're younger. You go."

"You already know my skill level," spits Lucht.

"I'm old. Refresh my memory."

With a sigh he steps up. As he is fighting with the same few moves, as if copying a textbook, Umbrae looks to Veneneer who appears to be attempting to use her breath weapon.

"You need help?" Asks Umbrae.

"I'm just trying to do that acid glob thing I did but it's not working," answers Veneneer.

"Are you pulling your element up?"

"What?" Asks Veneneer a curious look on her face.

"Found your problem," comments Umbrae, "Within you, near your heart, is your spirit core. The wellspring of your element. First step is you need to mentally contact it."

"How do I do that?"

"For me I closed my eyes and reached to my heart, without actually moving my arms, and felt something slick and oily wreathing inside me. Of course a single data point makes predictions impossible so it probably will feel different to you."

"Umbrae you're up!"

"Keep trying to reach it until I get done," stepping up to the ape dummy he calls out, "I would like some dueling practice before I get started. Could you give him a saber?"

The club glows before dissolving and being replaced by a saber and the dummy repositions itself into a proper stance.

With a tap on the dummies blade it springs to life. After circling each other the dummy thrusts towards his chest which is effortlessly parried. After an exchange of blade thrusts and clashes Umbraes eyes flicker to the left side and make an attack from that angle before redirecting the sword into its opposite side. Feeling the blade bite through the straw he quickly pulls the blade back deepening the wound. As the dummy clutches its side he drives the tip deep into the dummy's chest.

Using a combination of shadow and his blade he manages to get through round five before he is overwhelmed.

"Very good," nods Senex, "However you do realize that you don't have to knock over torches to make enough darkness when you have a shadow, right?"

"Uh, that never occured to me," Comments Umbrae.

"Clearly," sighs Senex, "Aarde. You're up."

With an embarrassed blush Umbrae returns to Veneneer, "Have you found it?"

"Yes," nods Veneneer, "it feels tingly."

"Good now pull some of that magic off and direct it to the back of your throat," he awaits her nod, "Now force it out with all of your strength. Just make sure to do it away from anybody you don't want to hurt. I'd rather not melt."

With some effort she manages to launch a glob a few feet eliciting a cheer from Umbrae, resisting the urge to clap her on the back, "You did it! Now let's see that it wasn't a fluke!"

She manages to launch another glob as a smile crosses her face that only grows with each glob spat.

She attempts a final one but nothing happens, "I can't reach my magic anymore. Did I break it?"

"I haven't the foggiest idea," comments Umbrae.

"No," answers Płomień as she leaves her match, "Whenever a dragon uses its power their spirit core shrinks but never disappears, though more experienced dragons have a longer 'reach' so to speak. Now it will replenish over time but green spirit gems will speed along the process."

"So dragons have mana bars and green gems are mana potions," nods Umbrae, "Got it."

"Sure," affirms Płomień with an incredulous tone, "If that's what works for you," she mumbles under her breath, "Whatever a mana bar and mana potion are."

"You gave me a lot of great information." Nods Senex, "It will take some time to review the data. You have the rest of today free."