The Time Tournament (Order of the Dragon #1)

CHAPTER 7

Elena

July 1378

O ver the next few days, Mel avoided “the talk” like the plague. I would have much preferred for the talk to be about the birds and the bees. But no, it was about how not to die while killing time-traveling warlocks. Fun. While she acted like nothing was happening, I discovered the great taste of bitten nails. A delicacy if you asked me. Okay, I didn’t actually eat them, but biting them off felt so good. If she didn’t start talking soon, I’d end up with raw, bloody nail beds, which wouldn’t help my fighting skills either.

It wasn’t like I didn’t badger her about it. Constantly. And every time, she responded with “soon.” Like, how soon was soon? I even started calling her the witch of edging. The not-so-fun kind. She didn’t find that particularly amusing. But we were talking about my life here, the one I kept losing over and over. And she kept busy chopping a bunch of stinging nettles. Who cared about random weeds when I didn’t know the first thing about fighting?

“When are you going to tell me how to defeat the witches and warlocks?” I asked, finishing my daily nail-biting routine.

“If you would care to help, maybe soon,” she said, then went back to humming a weird witchy tune.

“You sound like my mother.” I crossed my arms. Anger always helped my anxiety.

“I might as well be.” She smiled softly.

“No one is like my mother.”

“That is true. But I’m here to help you return to her, even if it takes decades.”

“You truly mean that?”

“I do. You just need to keep yourself alive.”

“You keep telling me this, but then you don’t show me how.” I almost started pouting.

“How about you rekindle the fire and pour some water in the cauldron?”

There was no negotiating with this woman. “Fine,” I said dejectedly and left to fetch water from the spring.

Once the fire began heating the water in the cauldron, Melisandriah threw in the stinging nettle. Loads and loads of it. Until it turned the water into mush.

“Is this why my hands are blistered? So you can make yucky porridge?”

“Who was the one who forgot her gloves? The undisciplined suffer most.”

I couldn’t argue with that. “Why do you need this mush?”

“All in due time, my daughter. All in due time.” She began stirring the mush with a giant wooden spoon. “But don’t worry, I saved some water for our nightly tea.”

“At least one good thing will happen today.” Sadness began to blur my mood again.

“Go fetch me that jar over there,” she said, not letting me dwell on my thoughts.

“Which one?”

“The one on the tallest shelf,” she said.

“Really? What’s in there that you need so badly?” I stood on a tiny wooden chair and reached on my tiptoes in the dustiest part of the house. By the time I grabbed the jar, I sneezed three times. “Do you ever plan on cleaning these shelves?” I asked, bringing down the sealed jar filled with dried herbs and field flowers. I tried pulling the cork, but it wouldn’t budge.

“Never. The less people think I’ve been here, the better.” She took the jar and mumbled something. Suddenly, the cork began turning, though it had some kind of glue around it.

“What’s so special about these herbs? They look like regular weeds.”

“Even the most regular weeds hide something special in them,” she said, pulling out a tiny dagger. The rusty blade was small, but the handle fit perfectly in Mel’s hand. It looked so old, I couldn’t understand why she admired it so much.

“How is this piece of junk special?”

“It’s to fool the eye of the ignorant, my daughter. Special things need the right environment to show their full strength.” And she dropped the ugly thing into the green mush.

“As if that’s going to do anything,” I said, convinced this was all bogus. But then the stinging nettle mush started bubbling up and turned into some kind of tar-like substance. “What’s happening?”

“You’ll see.” Mel put on her gloves and grabbed a metal pincher.

The dark substance kept frothing until it finally settled at the bottom of the cauldron. And out of it emerged the most beautiful object I had ever seen. It was the same small dagger, but the blade was multicolored, sparkling in iridescent hues of purple, blue, and green. The handle was intricately detailed despite its small size. The most prominent feature was the engraved scales ending at the grip and connecting the blade to a golden guard curled at its ends.

“How is that even possible? Is this painted on?” I tried to touch it.

“No.” She slapped my hand. Again .

“Are you a toddler in the body of an eighteen-year-old?” she asked. “Why do you think I’m wearing gloves and holding a pincher? So you could touch it with your bare hands?”

“What is this?” I asked, still mesmerized by its beauty.

“As you can see, it’s a dagger. The metal was dipped in prismwater, hence the colored facets. The metal is so powerful that when stabbed into flesh, it eats up anything surrounding it. Technically, it’s not dangerous if you only touch it, as it needs blood to work. But I won’t risk it with you. The handle is the only safe part for you to hold. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“If you didn’t understand until now, this is your way of defeating the impending threat. As long as it penetrates flesh, you will have an easy time defeating them. Plus, if you defeat them here, you’ll have the upper hand.”

“How many will I have to defeat?”

“Usually, there are two warlocks that time travel after you here.”

I breathed an unintentional sigh of relief. Two was better than a mob. “Can I hold it?”

“Only with gloves on and very carefully. We don’t want to finish the warlocks’ job for them.”

“Good point,” I said, all giddy. As I hurried to put on the gloves, Mel went to the cabinet and pulled out a sheath that looked custom-made for the iridescent dagger.

“Your first lesson is to put the dagger into its sheath,” Mel said .

“What? That’s it?” My shoulders drooped instantly.

“Once you get over the first impression and wipe that starry look off your face, we can practice fighting.”

“You always know how to ruin someone’s fun. Wasn’t this supposed to be an emergency? Aren’t the evil warlocks coming after me?”

“Not before tea,” she said. “Now show me you can do the one thing I asked you to do.”

“Fine,” I said, sheathing the dagger. “Happy now?”

“Very. Now place it on the countertop, and let’s have tea and biscuits.”

Even though discovering the dagger felt anti-climactic, I still felt at ease. I now had an answer. And Mel knew it all along.

We sat at the kitchen table and began our newly formed tradition. Or at least, new for me. Who knows how many traditions Mel made with the other versions of me?

“I always wanted to ask, how do you always know when I arrive here?” I asked as I sipped on the herbal tea.

She took a sip too and pointed at her chest. “It’s the stone. It lights up in the time continuum. I always know it’s you because the light moves so erratically. Only an uninitiated time traveler would behave like that.”

“And how long does it take for the next time to happen?” I asked eagerly, happy to get more answers.

“When you die, the loop renews. But I don’t know how long it takes overall because the deeper history goes, the faster time moves. And the closer to present time, the slower time gets. But after so many cycles, it usually takes me several years for us to meet again.”

“Where do you get these stones that have so much power?”

“Well, the one you had was made by dragons.”

“No way. Like real dragons?”

“As real as you and I. Well, until they return to their human form. Without that ability, they wouldn’t have survived for so many centuries. Humanity would’ve found a way to kill them.”

“Don’t tell me they’re shapeshifters?” My eyes widened like a kid in an ice cream store.

She chuckled. “You always liked this part of our history. Yes, in 1408, they and their human royal coalition will become part of a monarchical chivalric alliance called the Order of the Dragon.”

“Yes, yes, monarchical chival––something, something, I got it. Now tell me.” I bent closer to Mel. “Are there any handsome dragon shifter men? I wouldn’t mind ‘morphing’ with one, if you know what I mean.” I wiggled my brows.

“There aren’t a lot of dragon shifters in general. Men or women. They’re still an anomaly of nature forged through magical elements and used as tools for Fates to interfere with human history.”

“Anomaly or not, I’d definitely bang one.”

“Elena, have some decency.” Mel gasped and clutched her invisible pearls.

“What? Don’t tell me that if you had the chance, you wouldn’t do it with a fire-breathing man-dragon.”

“‘Banging’ young undisciplined male dragons is the least of my problems.”

“Hey, there’s probably an older experienced one waiting for you. I’m sure. Don’t lose hope.” I patted her on the shoulder.

“I know you’re trying to rile me up to get a reaction.” Her brows furrowed.

“Is it working?”

“No.” Her mouth formed a tight line. “Now drink your tea. You’re going to sleep early. We start our training at dawn.”