I Married A Dragon (Prime Mating Agency)(58)
“So you had developed enough to have greater power than the rest of the population, but not enough to be a Shadow Lord,” Kaida concluded.
“Exactly. First, only golden-scaled Derakeens have the potential to become a Shadow Lord. The rest of us can only hope to become Kwesars. About ten percent of all the younglings who enter the Shadow Trail will linger past a couple of weeks,” Aldyr continued. “Each day spent in the void increases their affinity with the shadows and their control over their phasing abilities. However, unless they remain for at least six months, their skills will not be strong enough to become a Miner. You need a minimum of nine months for a Scribe, and more than a year for a Gate Master.”
“Wow, that’s fascinating!” Kaida said. “Do you take in the children the minute they come out of the void?”
I smiled, loving how fascinated my Ejaya was about the ways of my people. Although it would help her investigation, I could also tell that she was genuinely curious by the way she was leaning forward in her chair, eating up every single one of his words.
“No. Kwesars return to their parents and are raised normally. However, they will have qualification tests at specific age milestones to assess their suitability for their chosen role, and take classes from the general curriculum that supports that choice.”
“Chosen role? I thought the time spent in the void determined that?” Kaida argued.
I smiled at my mate. “We still have free choice, my Kaida. Although I emerged from the void with the crown of a Shadow Lord, I technically could have chosen to become a Scribe, a merchant, an artist, or whatever other profession appealed to me. Has that ever happened? Not based on any history that I’ve read. But it would still be our choice.”
“That’s correct,” Aldyr said. “Considering how few Shadow Lords exist at any given time and how essential their roles are, should one ever choose not to pursue that vocation, there would certainly be some pressure to try and change his or her mind, but no coercion. With Kwesars, while they cannot choose a profession above their shadow affinity, they could opt for a career with lesser requirements, but which they could accomplish with a much higher degree of success.”
Kaida nodded in understanding. “Because they are more powerful than if they had just met the minimum requirement.”
“Exactly. Most Kwesars who barely passed twelve months in the void become Scribes instead, even though they have sufficient power to be Gate Masters. Since they have the strict minimum, they often struggle to open stable portals or with the precision of their destination, and they take a lot more time to close greater portals to distant destinations.”
“Oh okay,” Kaida said, perking up. I could almost hear the thoughts firing off in her mind now that she thought she had a possible trail. “You say it’s their choice, but could a Kwesar be forced to specialize in a field with lower requirements? Are there Gate Masters who insist on summoning portals even though they occasionally land in random, and sometimes dangerous places?”
Aldyr chuckled and shook his head. “No, Miss Daigo. While the opposite has happened where we had to convince someone to go for a higher tiered profession, the other way around never happens. Your reputation directly impacts your employability and the rates you can charge for your services. People want instant gratification. They will not stand around for ten minutes while you’re fumbling in failed attempts to summon a portal. And they won’t hire you to mark stones for them if you are too slow or if the marked destinations are off.”
Kaida’s shoulders slumped, and my hearts broke for my female. “Right. That makes sense.”
Aldyr tilted his head to the side with an air of sympathy. “I’m sorry that I’m not giving you the type of answers you sought. But I’m confused about how this line of questioning would help your specific case.” He cast a slightly confused glance my way before turning back towards her. “I thought your Shadow Lord said you were trying to find out more about the off-worlders casting portals into our world. I assumed you wanted to question me about portal summoning using obsidian stones.”
“Yes, but first I need to know how they got their hands on shadow obsidian to begin with,” Kaida explained. “No off-worlder travels to Dramnac anymore since the Shattering. The phase shifting all around your planet would basically send any approaching vessel into the equivalent of a wormhole, and they’d end up only God knows where. The Shattering occurred many decades ago. These incidents only started occurring a year ago. That means whoever the off-worlder summoners are, they likely got their hands on the stones in the past twelve to twenty-four months. But how? How did they come in contact with Derakeens or Dramnac?”
Aldyr rubbed the bone spikes on his chin with a pensive expression. The same question had plagued me, and there could only be one way for it to have occurred.
“So you understand the issue, Headmaster?” I asked. “A Derakeen unequivocally opened the first portal that gave them access. The mines are too closely watched and much too busy at all times for a human to have entered an accidental portal and no one noticing or reporting it. Aside from Shadow Lords, the only people able to open portals are your colleagues and students.”
His brow creased. “True. However, we also keep a very close eye on them. No summoning, scribing, or mining is allowed unless a Master is present to handle any accident. And they happen a lot, especially at the beginning of a novice’s training. But none ever led off-world. We do not have that kind of shadow power. And you know we would have warned both the Shadow Lords and the Council if an accidental portal had brought off-worlders onto Dramnac.”