40. CHAPTER 40 #2
Thora rolled her eyes, tightening Sylivia’s straps with clinical precision. “At least your fliers try. Some of us don’t get the luxury of drama. Isn’t that right, Sylivia?”
The dark blue griffin blinked slowly, like she couldn’t be bothered to dignify the chaos with a response.
Then Erik stomped over, pale and shaken after nearly being bucked into the afterlife by Sylari. “If anyone tells my mother about this,” he said, “I’ll say you pushed me.”
That made everyone laugh. Even me. Which felt strange, considering my hands were still trembling.
Esme’s silver-blue eyes swiveled toward me, her voice rich with smug amusement, “Tell him I’ll happily push him if he needs proof.”
“Don’t tempt me,” I thought back, biting a grin.
Professor Hildegard’s whistling cut the laughter short. “Enough chatter! Feather Wing, you’ll be running paired launches. I want synchronization. Takeoffs, vertical climb, descent. If one of you hesitates, both of you will eat dirt.”
“Guess we’ll find out who’s dead weight,” Sadie said, swinging onto Korra’s back.
“Not me,” Micah sang, vaulting onto Sera in one graceful move. Flames licked harmlessly at his boots.
“Oh, this is going to be a disaster,” I whispered.
“Correction,” Esme said smugly, “this is going to be fun.”
Professor Hildegard whistled loudly again. “Riders, get ready. Your fliers don’t need my instruction—they were born knowing how to fly. You are the ones who need discipline. If you cannot stay in the saddle, you are useless to them. Understood?”
A ragged chorus of “Yes, Professor!” followed, though a few voices cracked .
“Sadie and Akira. You’re first.”
Korra preened her wings like she was about to walk a stage, then crouched low.
Orix, Akira’s yellow-golden dragon, yawned wide enough to show every daggered tooth before launching without warning.
Akira squealed, clutching the saddle as Orix twisted sideways mid-climb just to see if she’d fall.
Korra followed in perfect, smug arcs, wings slicing the air like golden blades.
Sadie sat proudly and balanced, not budging an inch, while Akira flailed so hard she almost lost a stirrup. From above, Orix let out a roar that rippled through the sky so loud I felt it in my chest.
When they landed, Akira slid halfway off and glared up at him. “You’re an asshole.” He then blew a sulfur breath at her. Gross.
Korra shook her feathers, flicking dust onto Akira’s boots like punctuation. Sadie smirked, “Don’t blame him for testing your grip.”
Hildegard didn’t so much as twitch. “Lorenzo and Erik. Up.”
Syth launched straight up like a shot, wings tucked tightly before flaring open in a dizzying spiral.
Lorenzo’s jaw clenched so tightly his teeth threatened to crack.
Meanwhile, Sylari took Erik on a wild sideways climb, banking into sharp, aggressive turns that made him swear loudly enough for the entire wing to hear.
Both dragons landed smoothly, like the whole thing had been choreographed. Their Riders, however, looked green around the edges. Lorenzo slid down stiff-legged, knees shaking. Erik hung on to Sylari’s neck long after the landing, pale as death.
Micah snorted. “Pretty sure Hildegard said stay in the saddle, not claw your way off your flier like a drowning rat.”
“Eat flame,” Erik said, still clutching Sylari’s neck.
“Riggins and Blackcreek,” Hildegard said.
Micah vaulted onto Sera, bursting upward in a flare of fire. Esme’s stardust eyes gleamed as she crouched, her body thrumming with restrained power. Sera’s heat shimmered over the line, sweat breaking instantly on my brow.
“Ready, little Rider? ”
“No,” I shot back, heart hammering.
“Perfect,” she purred, and launched.
The force slammed me back in the saddle, wind ripping through my hair.
Esme climbed vertically, faster than I could blink.
My stomach lurched, the ground a blur beneath us.
Then she tipped sideways, rolling once, twice—deliberately throwing my balance.
Sera danced through the sky like pure flame incarnate, Micah holding steady, his grin infuriatingly smug.
“Esme!” I shouted, clutching hard, the straps biting into my palms.
Her laughter flooded the bond, wild and wicked. “Prove you deserve me.”
I locked my thighs, gritted my teeth, and forced my body into her rhythm. My muscles screamed, but I held. By the time she leveled out and spiraled down to land, my entire body shook with adrenaline. I slid off, boots hitting the dirt hard. My legs wobbled but didn’t buckle.
Esme’s eyes glittered, her voice smug in my mind, “spectacular.”
When the last pair arrived, half of Feather Wing looked like they were about to vomit, while the others tried to hide it.
Saddles squeaked as cadets dismounted, their boots dragging in the dirt, faces pale and sweaty.
The fliers shook off the fatigue, looking confident and shiny, as if none of this had required any effort.
Professor Hildegard stalked the line, his boots crunching in the gravel. His gaze swept over each of us in turn—lingering on Akira’s frizzed braid, Erik’s trembling hands, the dirt still smeared across Lorenzo’s cheek.
Finally, he spoke. “Your fliers flew flawlessly today. Every stumble, every near-fall, every scream—” his eyes flicked to me, sharp enough to make my stomach twist, “—was on you. Do not forget it.”
No one dared move. The griffins crouched low, feathers slicked tight, like they respected him enough to listen.
Hildegard crossed his arms. “If you thought today was hard, enlighten yourself of the notion now. This was nothing but a warm-up. Tomorrow, we add maneuvers—dives, banks, and speed runs. Your fliers will push you harder. Some of you will eat dirt. I don’t care.
You either keep up or you don’t belong here. ”
Sadie muttered something under her breath that made Akira snicker. Hildegard’s head snapped their way like a hawk, and both of them went stiff.
“You think this is a joke?” Hildegard’s voice was like steel grinding against stone. “Every second in the saddle is a test. Fail, and you’re not just humiliated—you’re dead. Or worse, your flier is.”
Silence pressed heavily on us. Micah’s smug grin faltered.
Then Hildegard straightened, his expression unreadable. “Dismissed. Eat. Rest. Tomorrow, you’ll need it.”
I exhaled, realizing I was holding my breath.
Esme’s low rumble of laughter filled the back of my mind, “he likes me.”
“He terrifies me,” I thought back.
“Both can be true,” Esme said, her eyes gleaming as she stretched her wings, “wait until tomorrow. I haven’t even started having fun yet.”
By the time Professor Hildegard barked ‘dismissed’ my legs were jelly. The trek to the dining hall felt longer than any march, every step reminding me of muscles I didn’t know I had.
Esme peeled off toward the cliffs, her voice smug in my head. “Eat well, little Rider. Tomorrow I’ll shake it out of you again.”
“Can she hear herself?” I muttered, earning a curious glance from Sadie.
Feather Wing claimed the tables near the back of the mess. Trays clattered, boots scraped, and the smell of roasted meat and stale bread thickened the air. Most of us slumped into seats like corpses-in-waiting.
Sadie dropped her tray with a loud clank. “If I survive this week, someone owes me a medal. Or at least boots that don’t smell like griffin sweat.”
“That’s optimistic,” Akira groaned, collapsing beside her. “Orix nearly rolled me straight into the dirt. Pretty sure my left arm’s longer than my right now.”
“Good thing you didn’t have my dragon,” Lorenzo muttered, pushing food around his tray. “Syth would’ve launched you into the stratosphere just for the entertainment value. ”
“Correction,” Erik said, still pale from Sylari’s antics. “He would’ve launched me into the stratosphere. Then eat you for dessert.”
That earned a round of tired laughter, the kind cadets use when they were too sore to manage anything louder.
Micah leaned back, balancing his spoon across his fingers like it was a weapon. “Honestly, you lot make it sound worse than it is. Sera and I could’ve gone another ten rounds.”
“Because she carried you,” Thora cut in, her voice sharp as her griffin’s talons. “We all saw it. She practically gift-wrapped that landing while you sat there grinning like a prince.”
Micah’s grin only widened. “And didn’t it look flawless?”
Akira chucked a crust of bread at his head. He caught it mid-air, popped it in his mouth, and winked.
For a moment, it almost felt normal. Almost.
Then the whispers started.
“…wasn’t just an accident. You know it wasn’t.”
“…fourth one dead, now fifth…”
“…professors can scrub stone, but they can’t scrub the truth.”
The laughter died off. Trays scraped quietly.
Sadie lowered her voice, glancing down the length of the table. “Word is, the one they found this morning wasn’t the first Rider. Making it two, now. Two Riders died in a week.”
My chest tightened. I forced myself to chew, though the bread tasted like ash. Around us, the mess hall buzzed with the same rumor, each retelling darker than the last.
“They’re targeting branches.”
“No, they’re targeting personalities—he was cruel, remember?”
“Doesn’t matter. None of us is safe.”
I caught Zane across the hall, coming in to sit with his wing. His eyes met mine for a single heartbeat, dark and unreadable, before he looked away.
The unease in the room spread like a stain, impossible to ignore.
After lunch, Feather Wing dragged to Professor Duft’s wielding class. The room smelled of chalk and ink, the walls lined with shelves of rune-etched tomes. Duft herself stood straight at the front, her hair pinned in an impeccable bun, her voice carrying like steel through the air.
“None of you has manifested your specific ability yet,” she began, “but that does not mean you are powerless. It means you are unprepared.”