45. CHAPTER 45 #2
Hildegard surveyed the chaos like a warlord surveying his battlefield. “Fly up and drop again!”
And we did, for over forty minutes. My stomach was so turned, I was surprised I hadn’t puked like the others.
I watched so many cadets not make it back on their fliers, with Drusearons or Riders dipping in to grab them before they hit the ground.
I knew I’d seen Zane at least twice grab a cadet.
Thankfully, I didn’t need saving, nor did anyone in my flight.
In the last ten minutes, we all landed on our fliers in the saddles successfully.
Hildegard ordered each wing to swap maneuvers. We ended up flying around, doing quick drops and rises in the sky next. Nothing too extreme, which allowed my stomach to settle some. This was the flying I missed on the rare times Kim flew me. For once, I was the one who looked graceful in the sky.
This part was more about flying with our dragons, feeling comfortable on them, and flying for periods of time without breaks.
When we all flew home, if everything went well, it would be a straightforward flight without any maneuvers.
However, if something arose or we found ourselves in hostile territory, we needed to know how to handle the flights our fliers would need to make to get us somewhere safely.
Finally, after what felt like hours, we heard the long whistle beckoning us back.
We all turned and flew back to the field, landing and making the ground shudder once more.
When I slid down her leg, I felt the consequence of flying for hours, especially on a poor-quality saddle.
Both of my glutes screamed in pain, my legs wobbly from the position and vibrations of Esme.
Hildegard stalked the line like a general surveying a battlefield, his boots crunching on the frosted ground. His eyes raked over us—sixty-five of us first-year Riders all sweat-soaked, standing with wobbling legs but still standing.
“I may be hard on you,” he said at last, voice booming, “but you all have made me proud. You’ve completed a week’s worth of training in four days. We have never had to push training this hard, and you all did it.”
There were collective sighs, like a room finally letting go of a held breath.
“I am confident in every single one of you to fly home tomorrow. Professor Yan has informed me she and her leather workers have finished every one of your saddles.” A sharp grin twitched at his mouth. “Though, knowing Yan, I suspect she had some witchy help.”
That even drew a few tired laughs.
He continued, pacing slowly. “Now, your fliers will hunt for their meals. You will go eat yours. After lunch, you will report back here for saddle fitting and adjustment. Depending on how quickly we finish, you may have some downtime before dinner. Don’t waste it.”
Micah leaned toward me and muttered under his breath, “If downtime doesn’t involve lying face-down on a mattress, I’m revolting.”
I snorted, but Hildegard’s gaze snapped to us instantly, sharp as a blade. We both straightened like guilty children caught stealing sweets.
Unimpressed, he went on. “After dinner, you will gather in Professor Vindex’s lecture hall.
It is the largest available, and we’ll need it.
We will review flight plans home. The twelve remaining Drusearon cadets will also be present, as they will be flying home as well, some of them on the same flight plan, and I expect cooperation. ”
His gaze swept over us one last time, and despite the pain in my legs and the ache in my spine, I felt something stir in my chest. We weren’t perfect.
Gods, half of us were still green-faced from vomiting out of the sky.
But we’d survived. We’d flown. And tomorrow, we’d fly home.
Well, I would be flying to Zane’s… my stomach churned at that sudden reminder.
***
We breezed through lunch, most of us starving from hours of riding, not to mention most of us puked out our breakfast somewhere in the sky—well, not me, of course, but I was still starving.
As soon as everyone finished, we headed to the flight field.
All the leadership was preparing to leave, finishing last-minute meetings, which would make the return process go smoothly.
The flight field was cold, but the air smelled of fresh leather in the bitter wind.
Tables were crowded with saddles—rows and rows of them, dark, gleaming hides stitched and tooled.
They almost looked like works of art. Professor Yan stood in the center, her silver dragon standing directly behind her—over her, actually.
Her scales shimmered like diamonds. I was mesmerized for a brief second.
Daren lingered nearby with his golden griffin, both beasts watching with unnerving sharpness as we filed in.
Yan’s gaze swept over us, sharp as a knife, though her mouth curved faintly in pride. “Every stitch, every strap has been checked. These saddles will carry you through the skies for years to come. Treat them as an extension of yourselves. Neglect them, and you neglect your life.”
All of our fliers were lined up in the field, waiting for the final part of the day. Some of them were preening their feathers, some of them looked like they were utterly bored, almost asleep.
“Your last name is etched into the side of the saddle. It won’t be visible when you are riding—in case you come across enemies, but it is there for when you store your saddles in the tack room, or if your flier returns without you. Please approach, find yours, and then saddle your flier.”
We all walked forward to the tables. The saddles were in alphabetical order, so I quickly found mine at the beginning of the pile.
I ran my finger across the “Blackcreek” that was etched into the side.
It was a stunning piece of work. I picked it up and carried it to Esme, then started cinching it down .
“Too tight,” Yan muttered, adjusting one buckle, smacking my hand lightly when I reached to help. “Hands off. Learn to watch before you ruin my work.”
Heat flared in my cheeks, but I stayed put, watching her trim the strap until it lay flat and smooth.
Esme’s hum rumbled through the bond. “This one respects the craft. I like her.”
“That makes one of us,” I thought back.
Across the room, Lorenzo tried to mount Syth with his new saddle and promptly slid off the other side, hitting the ground with a grunt. Half the room erupted in laughter.
“Shut it!” he barked, rolling to his feet, though even Syth looked amused, a low rumble vibrating through the red dragon’s chest.
“Perfect fit,” Thora drawled, deadpan as always.
By the time all sixty-five saddles were strapped, Professor Yan and Daren walked around checking our handiwork, making slight adjustments as they went, praising some and critiquing others.
Luckily for me, not only was I used to Kim’s saddle, but I also rode horses, which had much smaller saddles, but saddles, nonetheless.
“You all will mount and fly around the campus for at least an hour. You need to stay within the campus airspace, but you may practice whatever maneuvers you want. Test the saddles. If anything—and I do mean anything—feels off. A cinch, a buckle, a ring, a pommel, anything feels off, let’s take care of it today.
You fly home tomorrow, and don’t want your saddle to fail then. ”
“Oh, she said whatever maneuvers we want…” she sent a full laugh down the bond.
I am so fucked. I might not have puked earlier, but lunch might see itself out. Esme launched like she’d been waiting all day to show off, her wings snapping open with a thunderclap.
“Whatever maneuvers we want,” she repeated through the bond, smug delight dripping from every syllable .
“Esme—please,” I begged, already gripping the pommel tighter. “I just got used to my lunch staying where it belongs.”
She rolled to the side without warning, the world flipping upside down, my braid smacking me in the face.
“Parvaiz above—” I choked, clinging for dear life.
Her laughter rang bright and merciless. “You should see your face. Pure terror, it suits you.”
Across the skies, chaos reigned. Micah was already shrieking as Sera performed a corkscrew dive, his voice echoing over the rooftop. “Whyyyyy does she like thisssss?”
Sadie whooped gleefully as Korra skimmed so low over the field her talons kicked up snow.
Lorenzo looked like he was praying as Syth climbed high, then abruptly dropped in a vertical plunge that had him screaming obscenities.
“This isn’t testing the saddle, it’s testing my digestive system!” he bellowed as they leveled out.
From the ground, Yan and Daren craned their necks, shouting corrections up at us like furious parents. “If you puke, puke away from the leather!” and “Check the buckles, don’t just scream at them!”
Esme, of course, chose that moment to snap into a steep dive, my stomach hurtling into my throat as the wind tore at my eyes. Just when I thought I’d hurl, she pulled up so sharply I nearly kissed her neck.
“Esme!” I gasped, half laughing, half gagging. “This is not funny!”
“It’s hilarious,” she corrected, smug as ever.
By the end of the hour, the sky was littered with cadets—some grinning ear-to-ear, others hanging limply like half-dead ragdolls. All of our saddles stood the test of our wild fliers. At least four had landed early, one clutching his stomach, another pale and trembling.
Esme landed with a triumphant snap of her wings, lowering herself so I could slide off. My legs hit the ground like wet noodles, and I grabbed her foreleg for balance, groaning.
Micah stumbled past, his face green. “I really hope they don't do this to us tomorrow… ”
“We absolutely will not. It’s only fun when we’re training. Trust me, we all get a good laugh—well, except Korra, she’s a quiet one,” she shot down the bond before taking off.
Sadie smirked, still glowing with adrenaline. “Speak for yourself. That was the best hour of my life.”
I groaned again. “I hate you.”