CHAPTER 82: ALLIES, FRIENDS AND SERVANTS

"That is much better?" Yaela asked in startled shock. "You realize I am being held here against my will?" This woman was really crazy, Yaela thought to herself.

"I’ll tell you this," Ophix said, her grin never wavering. "After learning, you just might be able to break the spell keeping you in here. And if you do, I’ll let you walk right past that door."

Yaela scoffed, feeling as though Ophix was mocking her. "Isn’t that the same spell you said ranked visors cannot break, or am I tripping?"

Ophix laughed. "Now this is your first lesson child, so listen attentively. Visors and witches are not the same. Sure, we all use mana, but our magic is far more complex and drawn from the most powerful sources. Figuring out how to break the spell I put on this house would be easier for a decent witch than an accomplished visor."

"But why?" Yaela asked, genuinely intrigued despite her confusion. "Why teach me in the first place?"

"Maybe it’s the guilt of keeping you here," Ophix replied thoughtfully. "Or maybe I feel bad that you might be related to that professor. Or maybe it’s because I’m just crazy and I find this fun."

Yaela shook her head. If this was going to get her out of this place, then she had no other option. She’d take it for sure.

"Oh, and..." Ophix said before snapping her fingers. The bangles that had restricted Yaela’s mana usage suddenly fell from her wrist, clattering to the kitchen floor. "There’ll be no learning how to use magic if you can’t use magic, right?"

Yaela felt mana course back into her veins with such surge that it emanated from her body in visible waves. Ophix watched her with particular interest and amusement. "You’re not afraid I’ll burn your house down?" Yaela asked, looking back at the witch with power flowing through her.

Ophix scoffed softly and turned back to the dirty dishes in front of her, her attention shifting away from Yaela as if the question was hardly worth considering. "I don’t think you will," she said with complete certainty, already focused on the task of washing up.

....

Beijing, China - 8:00 PM

The vast modern boxing gym stretched before them like a cathedral of steel and concrete. High ceilings soared overhead, supported by massive structural columns that disappeared into the shadows above. Exposed beams and industrial lighting fixtures cast harsh pools of light across the training floor, and at the center of this warehouse-like space sat a professional boxing ring—its black corner posts and white ropes appearing almost diminutive within the enormous venue.

However, Kai and his father Bastion had chosen to train not within the confines of the ring, but on the open floor of the gym itself, where there was more room.

"Again!" Bastion’s voice echoed through the cavernous space.

Kai, already partially transformed with two horns protruding from his forehead and scales covering portions of his body, threw his head back and roared. "Arghh!" Magic energy swirled around him in visible waves, but despite his efforts, nothing more seemed to happen.

"Right now, you’re not a Zelkier!" Bastion shouted, his voice cutting through his son’s struggle. "Stop thinking about your fancy swords. Right now you’re the son of Bastion, and you’re a dragon!" The words struck something deep within Kai. This might’ve been the push he needed, though the same push his father had been giving him consistently for a week.

And then finally, something shifted and Kai’s energy exploded outward as elaborate dark wings unfurled from his back, their purple and black coloring catching the harsh gym lights. More scales erupted across his shirtless torso, forming intricate dark markings that resembled tattoos. Darkish purple magical energy crackled around him like lightning, and when he opened his eyes, they had grown noticeably darker. His fangs extended, more pronounced and menacing than before.

"Perfect!" Bastion exclaimed, his face breaking into a gleeful expression. But even as the word left his lips, Kai’s form began to revert. The wings folded and disappeared, the scales receded, and the magical energy dissipated.

He collapsed forward, sweat streaming down his body as he gasped for breath.

sfx: Huff... huff... huff...

Kai planted his hands on his knees, bending his upper body low as he struggled to recover. Bastion watched with a mixture of pride and disappointment. The transformation had been brief, way too brief, but it was undeniable progress. Bastion sighed and reached for a towel, then said "We’ll continue some other day. Good work."

He cleaned his hands and had turned to leave when Kai’s voice stopped him. "Father..." Bastion paused and turned back to face his son. "Tell me about the Old Dragon Kings." This was something Kai had been curious about for some time—this part of his history that seemed shrouded in mystery.

Bastion considered for a moment, then turned fully around. "Alright." He walked back and sat down on the gym floor. Kai followed suit, settling beside his father as Bastion began to speak. "The Old Dragon Kings were the first dragons, and there were nine of them. My grandfather, your great-grandfather—was one of those nine kings. Each king was so powerful that they could rival even the family heads themselves."

Kai’s eyes widened, perfectly amazed by what he was hearing.

"The Dragon Kings had their own territories," Bastion continued, "and none interfered with the others. But as strong as each of them was, they all heeded the calls of one being each time he called to them, and without question."

"But then one day," Bastion’s voice grew somber, "this being called upon them. As usual, they all answered—taking even their strongest generals with them. My father was among those generals. But they never came back. Not a single one of them, and till this day."

"Why?" Kai asked, his curiosity burning bright. "What happened?"

"War," Bastion said simply. "That being called them to war against the family heads. But they never made it back."

"What happened? Why would the Dragon Kings want to fight against gods?"

Bastion shook his head. "That, my son, I have no answer to. I was only a little boy then, and I wasn’t told much more than what I’m telling you now. My own father shared very little before he left."

Kai’s mind raced with more questions. "Who was this being?" Before his father could respond, another question tumbled out: "But Father, if they were so powerful, why did they have to answer each time this person called?"

Bastion laughed softly at his son’s eager curiosity, as if watching a child desperate to understand the world around him. "He was called the King of the Ancients," Bastion replied. "And beyond that, I know nothing more. Our ancestors were as old as the gods themselves—no, maybe even older. However, I don’t know when this being appeared in their lives, but the Dragon Kings were simultaneously his allies, his friends, and his servants. He was the reason dragons could co-exist amongst themselves."

"But—" Kai began, clearly not satisfied with the incomplete story.

Bastion raised his hand in a gesture that brooked no argument. "That’s enough for today." He stood up and began making his way toward the exit.

"Father..." Kai called after him. Bastion stopped and turned to look at his son one final time.

Kai bowed slightly, his voice filled with genuine gratitude. "Thank you."

Bastion nodded once, then disappeared into the shadows beyond the gym’s harsh lights, leaving Kai alone with his thoughts.