Flames Beneath the Surface
“…A summons?”
“Yes, Trainer Lithia. The order came directly from the director.”
The assistant trainer bowed awkwardly, sweat beading on his brow as he delivered the message.
“I see… Count Wolvart, I’m terribly sorry, but I’ll need to cut training short.”
“Oh?”
The Count, who had been perched on Lou’s back, reins in hand as they practiced riding posture, smacked his lips with visible regret.
“What’s the matter?”
“The director’s called for all trainers to gather. So I…”
Lithia trailed off, slightly embarrassed. The Count dismounted from Lou with an understanding nod, though his disappointment was clear.
“If it’s the director’s summons, then there’s no helping it.”
“I apologize.”
“No need. I’ve enjoyed being on Lou’s back again after so long. Besides, I have other appointments to attend to.”
The Count’s easygoing acceptance warmed Lithia’s heart with gratitude. She made a mental note: next time he visited, she would bring a handwritten recipe for Lou’s favorite treats.
“Thank you for your understanding. Next time you visit, I’ll give you the recipe for Lou’s special snacks.”
“Now that would be a worthy exchange.”
The Count chuckled heartily, stroking his beard with satisfaction before heading off. Once she saw him off, Lithia turned back to the assistant trainer.
“Where is the gathering being held?”
“Training Ground One, Trainer Lithia.”
“Understood.”
She quickened her pace—running a bit behind after bidding the Count farewell.
“You’re late, Trainer Lithia.”
“My apologies, Director. I was seeing off Count Wolvart—he came personally to check on his dragon.”
The director waved her off with a gruff but understanding gesture, then turned toward the gathered trainers.
And that’s when Lithia felt it.
A strange tension hung in the air. Almost all the trainers from the center were assembled—not just the apprentices. Her unease deepened when her eyes fell on a man nearby. His presence was like a thundercloud, handsome and severe. His eyes, piercing and calm, swept the room as if he already owned it.
Something’s wrong.
“The reason I’ve called you all here today…” the director began, wiping sweat from his face with a handkerchief, “…is because His Grace, the Duke of Albarant, is in need of a dragon trainer.”
A wave of murmurs swept through the trainers.
“The Duke of Albarant’s dragon?”
“The Agryx dragon? Isn’t that dragon handled by an exclusive family trainer?”
“Quiet!” the director barked, slamming his baton on the podium.
The room fell silent again.
“I understand your doubts—but it’s true. And participation is voluntary. Only those confident in their ability to train His Grace’s dragon should step forward.”
Silence.
Everyone looked at each other.
The Duke of Albarant… has he lost his mind?
The Agryx dragons—famous for choosing only the Dukes of Albarant—were shrouded in mystery. With so little known about them, approaching one carried immense risk. Dragons could be prideful and temperamental. The wrong gesture could lead to devastating consequences.
A misstep wouldn’t result in a mere scratch or bruise—it could mean death.
The Agryx dragon wasn’t just any dragon. It was a living volcano, and no one could be sure a body would be left behind if it chose to strike.
So the hesitation was natural. Even Lithia felt it.
But still… this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.
For most trainers, this might be their only chance to see, let alone work with, a dragon as rare and dangerous as the Agryx. It was an irresistible temptation.
“I’ll do it.”
One hand shot up.
Then another. And another.
One by one, trainers volunteered. It was inevitable. For those who loved dragons—who lived and breathed them—the opportunity outweighed the risk.
Lithia hesitated.
She, too, was entranced by dragons. She, too, longed to train a great beast like the Agryx.
“…Huh? Lithia, you’re not signing up?”
“I’m thinking about it.”
Was it dangerous? Yes. But that wasn’t what held her back.
If I’m selected, and the Duke takes me back to his domain… what happens to the orphanage?
It had been her home. Her sanctuary. Even if she had no memories of her parents, the orphanage had embraced her, raised her.
She had responsibilities there.
“Are you scared?”
Thompson’s mocking voice cut through her thoughts. She looked up and found him sneering, arms folded, eyes gleaming with amusement.
“Hesitating at a time like this? Guess you’re still a coward.”
“Watch your mouth, Thompson.”
“What, am I wrong? She’s just a soft-hearted girl who’s too afraid to grab opportunity when it’s in front of her.”
He moved to harass Melissa, but Lithia blocked his path.
“Don’t engage with him.”
“That arrogant prick—!”
“You calling me a prick?! You were the one who couldn’t handle Rock Will Jong without crying!”
“This bastard—!”
“Let it go, Melissa. The idiot’s flailing again.”
“Lithia!”
“The director’s watching.”
Thompson froze, glancing toward the front where the director’s gaze locked onto him like a drawn blade. He shrunk slightly, muttering under his breath.
“You’re lucky,” Lithia said quietly, turning away.
“…Is it because of the orphanage?” Melissa asked gently.
“…Yeah. You know my situation.”
“If I were your director, I’d probably smack you on the back and tell you not to waste this chance.”
Lithia smiled bitterly.
She could almost hear the old man’s voice now—gruff, half-irritated, and full of affection.
“It’s dangerous. If something happens to me, my little ones will cry their hearts out.”
“You can’t protect everyone forever. And… it’s not like you’ll ever get this kind of shot again.”
Melissa raised her hand in support. Lithia offered a small, grateful smile.
Even if she couldn’t bring herself to try, just being here, witnessing this—was something she’d never forget.
The Agryx dragon was exactly as its nickname suggested—a living volcano.
Its body gleamed like molten stone, red and black scales glowing like smoldering coals. Golden horns curled from its head, and sharp garnet-colored spikes lined its spine like jagged obsidian. Heat shimmered from its body, and with every breath, a sulfurous fog curled into the air.
Its golden eyes—burning with red light—swept across the trainers.
And when Lithia looked at the Duke of Albarant standing beside it, she saw the same fire in him. The resemblance was uncanny. They shared the same commanding presence, the same searing pressure that seemed to strip away pretense.
They say dragons and their masters resemble one another.
Lithia got goosebumps.
It was terrifying. And yet… beautiful.
“I will also participate in the evaluation,” the director said. No one seemed surprised. Even he couldn’t pass up the chance to stand before such a creature.
“You’ll approach the dragon in the order drawn by lot,” he continued. “Be prepared.”
“If I sense danger,” the Duke added in a low, calm voice, “I will intervene. I assure you, your safety is my responsibility.”
His voice carried easily across the training ground—deep and cool, like the rumble of thunder before a storm. The trainers, who had been admiring the dragon, now turned to stare at the Duke, visibly mesmerized.
Even his voice is… dangerous.
No. I can’t get involved in this mess. I like my life calm and stable. I’m happy being a simple dragon trainer.
Lithia kept her distance, comforting herself with the idea that she hadn’t volunteered. That this had nothing to do with her.
She looked back at the Agryx dragon.
Its scales glowed crimson, flickering like heat waves rising from a sunbaked stone.
“Let’s begin,” the director announced.
The first trainer, trembling slightly, stood and stepped forward.
“I’ll go first.”
Lithia’s eyes narrowed as the Agryx dragon’s pupils tightened, its golden gaze fixed on the approaching trainer.
Didn’t the Duke say he would stop it if it got dangerous…?
Wait.
Why was the Duke even here?
Why entrust the Agryx to trainers from a public academy?
Why not keep it within the noble family’s private care?
Lithia felt a chill run down her spine.
Something doesn’t add up.
Her instincts screamed a silent warning.
There’s more to this than we’ve been told. And I don’t think it’s anything good.
“…Be careful.”
“…Huh?”
“I said be careful.”
She didn’t know who she was speaking to—herself, the trainer, or the dragon.
All she could do now was watch.
And hope her uneasy premonition didn’t come true.
