Chapter Text
‘There were a lot of different ways to describe Tris Chandler,’ Niklaren thought to himself, glancing at the girl walking next to him. They were heading to an inn at the edge of the city. The people at the temple he’d just got her from would describe her as rude, combative, and dismissive: a danger to those around her. Niklaren the Seer would describe her as desperate, lost, and lonely. Tris was so very lonely; it seeped into the aura around her. Any adult dragel with aura sight that looked at the child would likely immediately burst into tears.
Niklaren the Man looked at her and saw his. His child. His mentored student, and a new person to give a part of his heart. The second he’d looked at her sitting in that chair, back straight and eyes furious, so defensive- like people wouldn’t notice her red eyes or tear tracts if she yelled at them enough.
She was such a mixture of angry and heartbroken.
Niklaren had felt his magic buck his control for the first time in decades, responding to the sight of her. The mentor bond had struck light lightning, binding him to her.
‘Protect her, keep her,’ his instincts had raged.
Niklaren had been rooted on the spot, disbelief filling him. He…hadn’t expected her. He hadn’t seen her. She was a blindspot to him. Oh, he’d known Lady Sandrilene fa Toren, he knew Briar Moss, and in a week, he would be meeting one Daja Kisubo. However, how those meetings would go was dependent on a lot of factors. They were expected, however, and he’d planned on laughing at his friends and the trouble the new students’ would bring them.
He’d been glad of it! They needed something to shake them up.
But he had not planned on joining them and getting one. He liked his life the way it was. His independence was hard-earned, and he refused to ever lose it. But…now there was one Tris Chandler.
Niklaren was confused, to say the least. And he planned to go straight to his home and check the ritual he’d done there to find his friends’ students; maybe something of his had gotten put into it by mistake. That said, he couldn't leave her. Both his new bond with her and his compassion for what she’d been through wouldn't let him. Tris clearly expected him to abandon her as her family had, and he was determined to prove her wrong. Niklaren wanted her to trust him, a difficult task considering that he didn't know how to begin explaining to her about dragels. Lady Sandrilene was dragel high nobility, Briar had his plants, and he’d know how to help Daja as soon as he saw her. Tris…was a blindspot.
Because her family had witches among them, Tris likely knew of magic. That made things easier and harder in some aspects. Easier in that she would believe him about being a magical being. Harder, in that he didn’t know if she’d have misconceptions about dragels. He was not unaware of how the witches of this planet saw his kind. That could be…troublesome.
Up ahead, he spotted the inn. Niklaren sighed. It was time.
“One room,” Niklaren said to the innkeeper. Tris bristled, “Two. I’m not sleeping in a room with you.”
“One. There are things we need to discuss,” Niklaren refuted. ‘We will not remain here for the night.’ He spoke in her mind. She flinched but kept silent. Judging by the angry flush on her face and how the wind around her picked up, however, she was not endeared by his power. The innkeeper made a sign to ward off evil as a wind swept through her inn.
Tris was silent up to the room until he shut the door. Then she gave him a piece of her mind, “You keep out of my mind,” she snapped, and a sudden rain banged against the window in the room. Niko ignored it, keeping his eyes on her. “My thoughts are mine. If you ever do it again I’ll-”
“What? Hurt me? On purpose, I doubt you’ll be able to, but your poor control of your magic could kill someone. I wonder if it has already.” Niklaren interrupted her growing tirade. Tris flinched back like she’d been struck, and Niklaren heard lightning strike outside. He sighed, “Tris, why were you in that temple?” She stayed silent, a mulish look on her face. He’d hurt her.
“Shall I guess?” Niklaren probed. Tris crossed her arms. To Niklaren, it looked like she was bracing- like she expected to be hit. The sight wounded something inside him. He walked over to the only chair in the room and sat down.
“To begin, I’ll start with what the matron of the temple you were at told me. Yours is a family of merchant witches. They sell potions, charms, and the like. They have no specializations or rare gifts. Your family are simple witches who work as merchants.” Outside, the rain and wind picked up. Tris stayed silent.
“You, however, were born strong.” Thunder rumbled directly above the inn.
“For another family, that might have been a good thing. For your family, though, it only caused jealousy.” A lightning strike headed for the inn, deflected only by Niklaren’s wards. He frowned, “Poor control-”
“Shut up, you don’t know me,” Tris interrupted, voice cracking.
“I know more than you want me to,” he countered gently.
“Why are you doing this to me?” There were angry tears in her eyes, and Niklaren’s barriers had deflected three more strikes. “Because the mere mention of your family could kill someone with your unstable magic. You need control, and I’m best to teach you.” Tris’s arms tightened around her, a shield. “I just want to be left alone.” Niklarnen his head slowly, “I can’t do that.”
“Why?”
Niklaren took a deep breath and strengthened his wards. “Do you know your father?”
Poignant silence answered him-
Then, the largest strike of lightning so far hit the inn.
Niklaren blinked the spots from his eyes; his wards had stopped any damage from the inn, but the brightness of the strike still blinded him. When he regained his vision, the sight before broke his heart.
Tris was crying, curled up in a ball on the floor. He sighed, “Tris-”
“I know,” Tris interrupted him again. ‘I already know what you’re going to say,’ it was a bitter thought.
~
Anne, Tris’s mother, competed with her sister to be the head of the family. Her sister won. That loss was a bitter one and officially broke the already splintered relationship of the sisters. To make matters worse, her sister announced she was pregnant a month later.
That news broke something in Anne. She decided to have a child also, and her child was going to beat her sisters’. Her child was going to be better at everything: looks, brains, and most importantly, talent. To ensure this, Anne made a contract with a magical being to give her a powerful child. However, Anne died in childbirth.
Tris grew up knowing the entire story because her family would not let her forget.
‘What good is your power when you killed your mother?’ Her Aunt mocked.
‘What good are you when we don’t know who your father is?’ Her younger cousin taunted.
‘What good are you when we don’t know the terms of the contract? Your father could come for you tomorrow or never,’ Her grandmother sneered.
The final strike came when she hurt her cousin. He had come into her room to do his favorite thing- mess with her. This time, she’d determined to ignore him- she didn’t want to be lectured and yelled at again for arguing with him. She’d buried her face in a book and tried to tune him out. He hadn’t liked his favorite victim not paying attention to him. Her cousin had torn the book from her hands- then ripped it apart before her eyes. That’s when things went fuzzy. She knew her magic had lashed out at her cousin; his screams had made her aunt and grandmother come running. They’d contained her- then decided she was too much to deal with permanently, especially if she was going to be ‘hurting her family over a book,’ as her aunt put it. They’d officially disowned her from the family and shipped her off to a temple, where she wouldn’t bother with them anymore.
~
“What do you want with me?” Tris looked up at Niklaren, the man who’d taken her from the temple- yet dredged up all her painful memories. He knelt next to her, “Tris, your sire was a Dragel. Do you know what that is?”
She flinched, “A dark creature.” Tris’s thoughts turned bleak, ‘My family was right. I am cursed.’
Niklaren frowned, “Just because something is powerful doesn’t mean it’s dark.” He paused, “Tris, I am a dragel.”
Tris blinked, then uncurled herself to look at him. Encouraged by her reaction, Niklaren continued, “We all receive a mentor when our inheritance comes in. They help guide us. Though your inheritance hasn’t come, when I saw you in that temple, my magic reached out…and yours answered. It created a mentor-student bond between us.” Here, he paused again, waiting for her to speak.
Tris closed her eyes, “What does this mean for me? Can you teach me control?” It was a painful hope. Niklaren’s answer made her eyes pop back open, “I can and will. It is my duty as your mentor.”
“Then-”
“Two things first,” Niklaren interrupted her this time. “Dragels have our own realm, Nevarah. I teach at a magic school there. When we go, you will learn there from others, though I will be your primary teacher.” Tris wrinkled her nose but nodded. She had nothing tying her to this place. A new place, with people like her, with the same magical strength as her…hope bloomed in her chest. “The second thing is that when we go, I’ll be the adult responsible for you…unless you want us to find your sire and third.”
Tris froze, “...third?”
“Dragels have three parents. We are made primarily with magic. The bearer, the sire, and the third.”
“Do I have to decide now?” Her voice was small. “No,” Niklaren assured. “I’m simply telling you that if you want to find them- I’ll help you. Your parents will not change our bond. It was chosen by our magic.” Trisc nodded slowly. Niklaren stood up and held out his hands, “Shall we go?”
‘A new place,’ she thought. Tris nodded and grabbed his hands. “I will be porting us there with a general portal. Hold your breath as it may feel a little strange at first.” Tris inhaled, and Niklaren noticed she looked similar to Briar. A little amused, he wondered how they would interact with each other.
“Temptrificus Portgas!”
Magic shot up and encircled them, and they were gone.
To Nevarah.