My Dragon System

CHAPTER 006

The summons arrived on Wednesday morning, printed on thick cream paper and delivered by a hall monitor who looked sorry about it.

Caleb Turner. Principal's office. Immediately.

"This is it," Marcus whispered at his locker. "They know. Somebody told them. Brandon told them. We're going to jail."

"We are not going to jail." 

"You don't know that."

"I'm fairly sure it's a school, Marcus." 

"Schools have jails. They call them detention."

Caleb walked to the main building alone, his stomach twisting. The Dragon Sovereign System hummed quietly in the back of his mind.

[Remain calm. Say little. Reveal nothing.]

"That's your whole strategy?"

[It has worked for dragons for ten thousand years.]

Principal Pierce's office sat at the top of the administration tower, a wide round room with tall windows and shelves full of old trophies. 

A mahogany desk sat in the center, and behind it, the principal sat with her hands folded. Beside her stood a man Caleb had never seen before.

He was tall and thin, with gray streaks in his dark hair and a face like a hawk. His suit was black and perfectly pressed. He held a small velvet box in his hands, and his eyes were sharp enough to cut glass.

"Mr. Turner," Principal Pierce said warmly. "Please, sit. This is Mr. Alden Reeves from the National Systems Bureau. He is here to observe the Games."

"Observe," Caleb repeated.

"Routine," Mr. Reeves said. His voice was smooth and quiet. "Every year, the Bureau sends a representative to monitor talent. We like to make sure no promising student slips through the cracks."

"I'm not promising," Caleb said. "I'm an alternate."

"That is what the records say." Mr. Reeves smiled thinly. "Yet you ran the Gauntlet in third place and captured Blackwood's flag in the forest. That seems quite promising."

Caleb's mouth went dry. "I got lucky."

"So I have heard." Mr. Reeves opened the velvet box. Inside lay a glass sphere about the size of a baseball, glowing faintly blue. "This is an Appraisal Orb. It measures a student's true rank. I would like you to place your hand on it."

Caleb's heart hammered.

[Warning: Appraisal Orbs are designed to measure Systems. Dragon Sovereign is currently disguised. This is a risk.]

"How much of a risk?" Caleb whispered under his breath.

[Hatchling-class disguise should hold. Probably.]

"Probably?"

[I have never been tested against this specific model.]

"Mr. Turner?" Principal Pierce said gently. "Is something wrong?"

"No, ma'am." Caleb stepped forward. His hand shook as he reached for the orb. "Just nervous." "Do not be."

He placed his palm on the glass.

For a heartbeat, nothing happened. The orb glowed its soft blue. Mr. Reeves watched with narrowed eyes. Principal Pierce leaned forward.

Then the glass trembled.

A thin crack split across its surface, humming like a struck bell. The blue glow flickered. A second crack followed, and a third. Light poured out in a flood of red and gold.

"Mr. Turner," Mr. Reeves said sharply. "Remove your hand."

Caleb yanked his hand back. The orb shuddered once, twice, and shattered. Fragments of glass scattered across the mahogany desk like falling stars. The air smelled of ozone and smoke.

Nobody spoke.

Principal Pierce looked at the broken orb. Then she looked at Caleb, and slowly, her expression softened into something very close to a smile.

"Well," she said. "That is unusual."

"I swear I didn't do anything," Caleb said quickly. "It was probably faulty."

"It was brand new," Mr. Reeves said coldly. His eyes had narrowed to slits. "It was calibrated three days ago."

"Then maybe it was a bad batch?"

Mr. Reeves studied him for a long moment. Caleb forced himself to stay still, to keep his face blank. Behind his ribs, his Ember Core pulsed anxiously.

[Do not panic. Panic is smelly.]

"Mr. Turner," Mr. Reeves said at last. "Your system. What is its name?" 

"Basic Student," Caleb said.

"Show me."

Caleb lifted his hand. The gray window appeared obediently, flickering in the air. Level one. Rank

F. Strength four.

Mr. Reeves studied it with a thin frown. Then he looked at the shattered orb. Then back at the window. His fingers drummed against the velvet box.

"Curious," he said softly. "Very curious."

"Alden," Principal Pierce said calmly. "I think we have our answer. A faulty orb. These things happen."

"Perhaps." Mr. Reeves closed the box with a click. "I will be watching the remaining events with great interest, Mr. Turner. Very great interest."

"Great," Caleb said weakly. "Can't wait."

Principal Pierce walked Mr. Reeves to the door with a polite smile that did not reach her eyes. When the door closed behind him, she stood very still for a moment, listening to his footsteps fade. 

Caleb noticed that her hands were trembling slightly. He wondered what a woman who had run a school for twenty years could possibly be afraid of.

He left the office on shaky legs. The door clicked shut behind him, and he slid down the wall of the corridor, his head in his hands.

[You survived. Nicely done.]

"That was awful."

[It was moderately awful. A true disaster would have involved fire.]

"You're not helping."

[I am excellent help. You are alive.]

Caleb laughed in spite of himself, quietly, bitterly. Down the hall, he heard footsteps and quickly stood. Principal Pierce stepped out of her office behind him and closed the door carefully.

"Caleb," she said in a low voice. "A moment." He turned, wary.

She looked at him for a long time, her eyes kind and tired. "Your father," she said softly. "Daniel Turner. He was a student here, you know."

Caleb froze. "He was?"

"Twenty-five years ago. He graduated in the top three of his class." She smiled sadly. "He was the best student I ever taught. Until he was not."

"What happened to him?"

"I do not know." Her voice was quiet. "But I know this. When your father walked these halls, he wore a pendant just like the one under your shirt."

Caleb's hand went instinctively to his chest.

"Be careful," Principal Pierce said gently. "Mr. Reeves is not here by accident. And he is not the only one watching." She patted his arm. "Win the Games if you can. But above all, stay alive."

Then she was gone, her footsteps fading down the hall. Caleb stood there for a long moment, his heart pounding. "My father went here," he whispered.

[Yes.]

"You knew."

[I suspected. Information locked. Insufficient Dragon Heart.]

"That's the most annoying sentence I've ever heard."

[I have heard worse. I once heard a Wizard System describe a sandwich as a personal philosophy.]

Despite everything, Caleb grinned. He walked out into the sunlight, squared his shoulders, and headed for lunch.

That night, a new window opened above his bed.

[Quest Received: The Hoarder's Instinct.]

[Objective: Find something your father hid at Ridgemont Academy.] [Reward: Dragon Heart plus 8. Memory Fragment.] [Hint: Dragons never forget where they keep their gold.]

Caleb stared at the window. His heart was a drum. "Okay," he whispered. "Dad. Where did you hide it?"