The dream woke him up. He couldn't remember all of it and the images were fading quickly into oblivion, but the feeling of it? That was not something he was able to shake off. All of this was becoming tiresome. Up until this point, he'd tried to just accept what came, not think too deeply into things, not get too involved. Yes, he was involved wether he liked it or not, for some reason he and he alone had been roped into tasks to determine "if" or "how" he and Lou got home. He didn't even know if it was a question of just "if" or "how."
He allowed himself to ask questions, but only the ones that didn't matter. He'd gone to the library once to find answers, but only to things that didn't have much to do with him. Now here he was, the wall of why was growing so tall that in the darkness it was all he could see.
First off, why was he here in the first place? He and Lou had come through the impenetrable veil. No one had ever even stuck a fingernail through it, so what had happened that allowed him not once but twice to enter into it? What about Lou, did he just drag Lou along or did Lou come through of his own power? Secondly, who were the cultists that everyone talked about? The Elder had given him just the tiniest bit of information but it didn't really explain everything. Who were they, what were they, what did they believe, and how had their "markings" come to be something that was done in the human realm for the purpose of bonding? Third, why, just why was the Elder such a confusing being? She'd put them in a position that had nearly gotten Lou's throat cut but had forced him to do something that he hardly ever did even on his own side of the veil. Then she'd been back and forth and just plain vague about the outcome of the trials. At first, he'd been under the impression that he and Lou "might" die if he didn't succeed. Then it felt like she'd indicated that they "would not" die but might be trapped on this side of the veil, and now tonight she'd changed it to "you will" die. Not to mention that he'd now done some research on the Trials and theoretically, there wasn't much of a way to fail them all completely. It happened but he didn't think it would get to that point. Even if he failed the Quillitine there were other Trials he thought he might be good at, and if they were going by the traditional method and outcome of the trials, they were not used to determine life or death, pass or fail, they were literally used as a job placement tool.
His head hurt thinking about it all, this was why he'd not allowed himself to question any of it too much. If he questioned it then it went from making little sense to just none at all.
He sighed and got out of the bed. If he wasn't going to be able to go back to sleep then there was only one thing he could think to do.
In the darkness, he haphazardly threw on the first clothes he could get his hands on. When he opened the doors his guards looked at him in surprise.
"I want to go train." He told them without preamble.
They looked at each other confused. "I don't-"
"If you two are going to guard me from here what's the problem with guarding me from somewhere else? Or are you guarding the room and not me?"
They questioned him a little longer but soon gave in and took him to the training field. There was no light, the clouds had covered the moon and stars. One of the guards went around a lit a few torches in the square, just enough to let off a faint glow. The other guard disappeared for a second but when he came back Tate was not pleased to see who was with him.
Bezhar marched towards him looking extremely irritated. "What do you think you are doing?"
"I can't sleep." He answered honestly. "I didn't mean for anyone to wake you up. You can go back, I'll be fine."
Bezhar's face twisted. "You think I can do that after what happened tonight? You think the Elder will just approve of me leaving you here with just two guards?"
Tate sighed a defeated feeling washing over him. He put his hands on his hips and looked up into the back sky. "I don't know. I don't know what that woman would approve of or not."
"She is not 'that woman' to you human," Bezhar growled.
Tate gave him a dry look. "All I know is that I only have a couple of days left to master this course. I have to perfect it to the point that I might have a chance of passing the trail against a time that this dragon I don't know will set. Apparently, this really is life or death for me. I'm too confused and too tired to argue with you about what to call someone when myself and my friend will be killed if I don't get this right."
Bezhar huffed but Tate saw his posture soften just the barest hint.
"Fine, just this once I will allow this. I will give you one hour before I come back and escort you along with your guards back to your room. You need to sleep before the real training of tomorrow."
Tate nodded, he knew he was being rude and an inconvenience but he couldn't bring himself to care.
In the end, Bezhar didn't go back inside but he situated himself into a chair in the darkest corner. The guard who had gone to get him was sent up the the parapets to keep watch.
As for Tate, he was brought the daggers.
For a solid hour, that's all he did. The nearly empty square seemed to absorb the thunk, thunk, thunk sound of the metal hitting the target over and over again. He didn't try to run the course, that would have been suicide in the darkness, he didn't even try the different targets. He just threw them at the last one, the furthest one. He threw daggers and retrieved them until his arms, shoulders, wrists, and even his fingers screamed.
He felt dull and lifeless as he watched the daggers fall some of the time. He still wasn't good enough for all his throws to stick into the wood. He just plain wasn't good enough.
With each throw and the increasing pain in his body, they kept creeping more and more into his mind. Lou, Aliya, his mother, that woman who'd taken him, the Elder, and even Wyla and Wyen. He didn't know why, couldn't say why, but they kept appearing in his mind on a loop.
When Bezhar called time the last dagger flew out of Tate's hand. It hit the target...and fell. Tate just stood there staring at the target. He didn't know it, but he was covered in sweat, panting, and his arm was shaking.
Bezhar observed him with a little concern. He could understand Tate's frustration. He didn't know if he liked the human, not because of anything personal but because of what he was doing to the Nest. The human had no idea of the upheaval he was causing behind closed doors. The Elder had given everyone who might come into contact with him or the other human strict instructions on how to speak to and behave around them.
It was exhausting most of the time to hold back around the fragile humans. He knew that the other workers in the nest were starting to feel the same way. It was a problem that was also starting to seep into the greater Nest. Dragons outside the Nest proper were now aware of the human's existence. They were curious, prejudiced, and fascinated.
Bezhar knew that this human was not personally at fault for what was happening, he wasn't even aware of such things. The Elder was the one to blame. She should have just called for a mage of high renown and tried to send them back straight away. As for why she hadn't and why she'd suddenly insisted on playing such a pointless game with them, he'd never gotten an answer from her. He had a few suspicions but they were so wild and out there that he was too scared to speak them out loud to anyone much less her.
Now on top of the Elder's schemes that female had stuck her snout into things. Bezhar was one of the few beings who knew the full scope of the bad blood between the Elder and that female. He couldn't help but wonder why she'd stepped in, what her interest in the human might be. Again, he had a few ideas but they sounded so ludicrous even to himself that he dared not voice them.
As he watched the human try to pull himself together Bezhar just hoped that this would all be over soon. He hoped the humans would return to their side of the barrier and they all be done with it. That is what would be for the best.