The Dragon Chase: A Tale of the Everburning City

Chapter 2: Mathias

To live is to burn.

It is the cruel truth of the life of a crafter. Those who can break the fires over their will, find the fire consumes them in turn. Inevitably, the power will burn away a crafter's mind until only a raging husk remains, devoured by the need to see the world aflame.

It is also the creed of the Guild of the Flamecrafters; the official agency that governs the training of a crafter. Under the Guild's oversight, a potential is trained to master first their own will, in order to master the flame. No one in the Everburning City is allowed free use their power, to Craft, except as a graduated member of the Guild.

To that end, every potential is given the opportunity to study at the Apprentice Hall, for as long as it takes for a supervising master to submit the apprentice's name for graduation. The training regimen is brutal, its classes relentless, and its participants are encouraged to quit. Most wash out, to continue lives of mistrust and stigma.

Those lives are often short.

Because of its brutal pace, the Apprentice Hall is a flurry of activity during the day; its corridors filled with people, life and struggle.

By night, the halls are empty. The curriculum is exhausting, and the consequences of failure, dire. So it was not unusual for the pair now treading through its high, stone corridors to see only empty corridors and abandoned classrooms.

"He won't like this," Mathias Aranhall said, as he followed Crafter Tabitha a'Loria from a half-step behind.

"He'll be tired, and tired minds make mistakes. You should let him rest before you test your machines," he insisted. He was wary as he spoke, and his unsettled gaze flittered to the ends of the corridors and open doorways.

His hands rested, habitually, on the grips of his knives.

"Nervous, Mathias?" his crafter asked, without turning her head back to him. She laughed as she spoke, and Mathias noticed the dramatic inflection in her tone.

"Shadows aren't welcome in these halls," Tabitha added, ominously.

Mathias chuckled to himself, not bothering to correct the common term for his profession. "Accident has a peculiar definition here," he remarked.

"So what has you so perturbed, evaluator?" Tabitha asked him, as she marched on. "It can't be this empty hall."

Mathias scowled irritably and followed. "No, it isn't the hall."

Mathias sped up, gliding forward, timing his steps to match Tabitha's until he reached her and rested a hand on her shoulder. "Tabitha, you should have waited for approval. Even a crafter cannot flout the authorities of the City."

Tabitha whirled around to respond, her expression set in a harsh scowl. "Should I give Parliament the chance to regulate my ships before they even fly? Or let the military seize my creation?" she asked him, her voice echoing through the empty hall.

Mathias was keenly aware of the air around them growing hot and still. The nearby torches flickered with unnatural vigour, and Tabitha's eyes blazed with a hazy orange light.

Mathias' hands gripped the knives beneath his coat.

"No, not while I draw breath,"  she hissed, the anger seething in the harsh rasp of her voice. "I'll beg their forgiveness after I do what they'll never give me permission for."

Mathias chuckled, opening his hands and holding them out in front of him. "You, beg? The Bore would go out first."

Tabitha laughed, rich and loudly, and inclined her head in acknowledgement.