Xilin

The dark corners deep within Rustwater Lane were the only world Xilin Emerald-Shadow (a name she much preferred to the code names given by slavers) had ever known.

About five years ago, an eight or nine-year-old Xilin was shackled in iron chains by several crude slavers, dragged through the dark alleys of Rustwater Lane.

Her emerald green hair was caked with filth, her small horns deliberately concealed under a wrapping of torn cloth, and the proud vertical pupils of the dragon race held nothing but numb fear as the slavers ahead of her muttered about how to sell her at an underground auction for a handsome sum as an “exotic.”

Just then, like a burning meteor crashing into the darkness—Tikona appeared, barely over ten years old, yet already displaying astonishing combat talent and a fiery temper.

She witnessed the scene and, without a thought for the consequences, relied on her innate draconic strength and a desperate ferocity.

With a scavenged, rusted iron pipe, she brutally beat the slavers—all much larger than her—until they were bloodied and fled in disarray.

When Tikona used her blood-and-grime-stained hands to carefully undo the cold shackle around Xilin’s neck, Xilin’s emerald eyes, for the first time, reflected the light of something called “hope.”

She didn’t speak, but simply used all her strength to cling tightly to Tikona’s dust-covered and blood-stained leg.

From that day on, Xilin became Tikona’s little sister.

Tikona gave her food, gave her shelter, and carried the weight of another life on her own young shoulders.

Tikona’s talents lay in pure, explosive power and an affinity for fire; her fighting style was wild and direct.

Xilin, on the other hand, displayed an entirely different kind of gift—she possessed an extremely keen perception of the elements and an unimaginable affinity for them, especially the rhythms of wind and water.

She could effortlessly make droplets from a puddle levitate and dance, and could sense the faintest shifts in the air currents… it was a natural affinity for magic.

However, her identity as a dragon-kin and her origins in the slums meant that the gates of the Royal Academy, a symbol of knowledge and power, were forever closed to her.

The exorbitant tuition fees, the strict background checks, and the deep-seated discrimination against “non-human exotics” both inside and outside the academy firmly barred her from the hallowed halls of systematic magical learning.

But desire, like a weed, can grow stubbornly even in the cracks of a stone.

The magnificent library of the Royal Academy was like a magnet to Xilin, especially the “Restricted Section” located deep within—an area with relatively lax security that housed a vast collection of fundamental magical theories and ancient spell transcripts (a restricted section for students, and a forbidden zone within a forbidden zone for outsiders).

Relying on her small frame and an almost instinctual caution, Xilin had discovered an extremely hidden route—slipping through a vine-covered, dilapidated drainage grate in the academy’s back wall, she could evade the patrolling guards and warning wards to sneak into a dusty, paper-filled corner of the library’s Restricted Section.

She dared not light a lamp, relying only on the faint daylight filtering through a high, small window to greedily devour the words that were like treasures to her.

Obscure spell structures, complex magical circuit diagrams, profound elemental theories… she was like a dry sponge, desperately absorbing everything.

She carefully recorded the parts she understood on scraps of cloth with a piece of burnt charcoal, and repeatedly memorized the parts she didn’t, hoping to grasp them on her next visit.

Today, as usual, she used the cover of dusk to skillfully climb over the low wall, slip through the creaking small door, and sneak into the old book section of the library.

She deftly made her way toward a bookshelf in a remote corner, where a few books on the basics of water element shaping were left unread from her last visit.

However, the atmosphere in the old book section today was somewhat unusual.

The air was thick with a suppressive, low pressure, like the calm before a storm.

Xilin’s keen senses picked up on the anomaly. She retracted her outstretched foot, hiding herself in the shadowy corner formed by two tall bookshelves, and held her breath.

“Useless! A bunch of useless fools!”

A female voice, suppressing extreme rage yet still shrill and piercing, rang out not far away, accompanied by the muffled thud of books being slammed onto the floor.

Xilin’s heart sank.

That voice… she recognized it!

It was that blonde, proud-as-a-peacock daughter of Duke Midgard, Isabella!

What was she doing in this remote old book section?

“My… my lady, please calm down…”

A timid female voice, laced with tears, spoke up. “It… it was that Xia Ya Wolfgang… he was too… too insolent…”

“And that lowly dragon-kin mongrel!”

Isabella’s voice was distorted with venom. “How dare she… how dare she humiliate me like that! And that degenerate from the Wolfgang family! How dare they!”

Xilin’s vertical pupils contracted instantly. She had heard the name of the kinsman her sister had mentioned! Beilixiya! And that… that Young Master Xia Ya who had helped Sister Beilixiya? They… had they offended this terrifying woman?

“Investigate! Investigate for me!”

Isabella’s voice was filled with madness. “I want to know every detail about that dragon-kin mongrel! And that Xia Ya! One day, I will make them pay! Ten times! A hundred times over!”

“But, my lady… the Wolfgang family…”

“What about the Wolfgang family!”

Isabella cut her off sharply. “Is that old fool Geralt going to fall out with our Midgard family over a picked-up mongrel and a worthless son! Go now!”

“Yes… yes…” several followers answered in a fluster.

The sound of footsteps began to approach the bookshelf where Xilin was hiding! It seemed they were about to leave this corner where they had vented their anger.

Xilin’s heart leaped into her throat. She absolutely could not be discovered! A dragon-kin from the slums who had snuck in—if she were caught by someone of Isabella’s status, the consequences would be unimaginable!

She would be treated as a thief, an intruder, and might even be handed over to slavers directly!

She had to escape!

The moment Isabella and her followers turned the corner of the bookshelf, Xilin moved, darting out from the shadows and sprinting in the opposite direction—into the deeper labyrinth of the old book section!

“Who’s there?!”

“Stop!”

“Catch her!”

Xilin’s sudden appearance and flight instantly ignited the already enraged Isabella. She caught a flash of emerald green horns and a dragon tail! Another dragon-kin?

Another one of these filthy creatures! And it dared to eavesdrop?!

“It’s a dragon-kin! A thief! Seize her for me!”

All of Isabella’s anger and humiliation seemed to have found an outlet. She lifted her cumbersome skirt and, with a ferocious expression, gave chase!

“Catch that little mongrel! I’ll skin her alive!”

The quiet old book section instantly turned into a chaotic hunting ground!

Xilin’s small figure weaved desperately between the maze-like tall bookshelves.

Her familiarity with this place was incomparable to that of those pampered young ladies.

She used narrow gaps, piles of old books on the floor, and even a short library ladder as obstacles and cover.

“Whisper of the Breeze!”

She muttered hastily, a faint magical power gathering at her fingertips, which she brushed past the heavy, precarious tomes teetering on top of several shelves behind her.

A few brick-thick books fell with a crash. Though they didn’t hit anyone, they successfully hindered the pursuers for a moment, drawing a series of gasps and curses.

“Puddle Trap!”

In a dusty corner, she quickly sketched a simple rune. The magic drew upon the scarce moisture in the air, forming a nearly invisible patch of slickness on the floor. One of the followers in closest pursuit slipped and fell flat on her back with a yelp.

However, among Isabella’s entourage, there seemed to be a house guard with decent skills.

He moved swiftly, bypassing the obstacles, and continued the chase relentlessly.

“Light Spell!”

In her desperation, Xilin flung a weak ball of light in the direction of her pursuers. The light was dim, but its sudden burst in the dark environment made them instinctively shut their eyes, their steps faltering.

Xilin seized the precious moment, sliding under a low bookshelf and dashing towards a narrow passage that, from her memory, led to the deeper, almost abandoned “pre-archival storage for the Restricted Section”!

The terrain there was more complex; maybe she could lose them!

“She went that way! After her! Don’t let her get away!”

Isabella’s furious voice echoed behind her, like a soul-reaping specter.

Xilin panted, her heart hammering, her lungs burning with pain.

Her eyes were filled with fear, but even more so with a stubborn will to survive.

She couldn’t be caught… for her sister, for the knowledge and hope she had so painstakingly stolen, she had to escape!

She plunged into the narrow, cluttered, and even dimmer passage, the sound of footsteps and Isabella’s hysterical screams growing closer behind her.

At the end of the passage was a thick iron door, covered in dust and cobwebs, with a large, rusty lock hanging on it—the door to the true Restricted Section.

I’m doomed. Did I take a wrong turn just now?