“We aren’t weak, you know.”

“I know.”

“You’re an Elf Mystic. You all think we’re weak.”

“You,” Ceilia looked Kali dead in the eyes, “are the farthest thing from weak. Believe me, I’ve been called just as weak as you.”

Kali’s gaze didn’t soften. “We can fight.”

“I never said you couldn’t.”

“You think it, though.”

“Even a Typic can fight.”

“You don’t know what it’s like! To be able to fight, to want to fight, to protect yourself, and have all your power fizzle out! You don’t know what it’s like to be defenseless.”

“I do,” Ceilia offered a knowing look. “I know what it’s like to not be able to rely on myself. And to fight anyway. And to be judged anyway. And to wish I didn’t care that they care so much.”

Kali faltered. “But-“

“I’m an Elf Mystic? Even Elven Patrons could be peaceful. Come on, let’s spar. You don’t need magic to win.”

“Fine,” She decided after a moment. Kali readied herself, but not before Ceilia struck. “No fair!”

Between swings, Ceilia shot back, “Dragons don’t play fair.” Kali dove around with wind-like agility. She was smaller but could try to catch her opponent off guard. But Ceilia was two steps ahead. She knocked Kali off balance, and she tripped over a root.

“Good job, fighting offensively.”

“Where’d you learn those moves? They were so… dragon-like.”

“Grew up near the border.”

“Right, I remember,” Kali nodded, then flashed a grin. “Again?”

“Again,” And Kali swung as Ceilia tried to help her up. This time she kept up for longer. With an adrenaline rush, Kali tried to even the playing field. But as she tired, Ceilia only seemed to grow more energetic.

And—

She inhaled sharply as Ceilia crumpled.

What?

“Are you okay?” Kali cried and rushed down. Something wasn’t right.

“I’m fine.” She looked the farthest thing from fine.

Kali moved around to help her up. And gasped again. Her eyes were blood red. Kali backed up, and Ceilia’s gleaming eyes widened.

Ceilia breathed,” Wait!”

“What?” Kali snapped.

Celia stuttered. “Even— dragon… patrons… can be— peaceful…”

“…What?” Kali relaxed.

“I’m what you call an— Albino… Mystic. Now please, hush.”

That was that. A pact, a promise, whatever you’d like to call it. Kali nodded, and that was that.

Ceilia struggled to her feet. “You, Miss Kali, have some explaining to do as well.”

[If you’ve made it this far, thank you so much! This is an idea I’m still playing with, but the context is that Mystics, or magic users, have magic that originated from magical creatures. The dragon kingdom is currently at war with the Flori. Dragons can be identified by red eyes when hurt, frightened, or otherwise excited.

Typics are an (experimental) term for non magic users. Uncommon.

The mechanics of magic are important. Abilities reflect (but have changed over time) from the original “patron” creatures. Thus, some magic is inherently more peaceful than others. And vice versa. Albino mystics are a gentler subtype of Dragon Mystics, and the main character is passing as an Elf Mystic (in the Flori kingdom) for her own protection.

Finally (bear with me), I try to hint that Kali herself is part of another mystic subtype.

Hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I had writing it!]