8. Aurora
AURORA
I turned over the parchment with trembling fingers and read the first page. At the very top was a scoring key.
Section: MATHEMATICS
Section: NATURAL PHILOSOPHY (PHYSICS)
— Questions: 15
— Points: 75
Section: DRAGON BIOLOGY & HUSBANDRY
— Questions: 15
— Points: 75
Section: History of the Madling Wars
— Questions: 15
— Points: 75
Section: STRATEGY & TACTICS
— Questions: 15
— Points: 75
Section: DRAGON PSYCHOLOGY & BOND THEORY
— Questions: 10
— Points: 50
Section: ESSAYS / CRITICAL THINKING
— Questions: 10
— Points: 50
Total: 100 questions / 500 points
Below that was another table which read:
Score: 450–500
Result: First Rank (Exceptional)
Score: 400–449
Result: Honors
Score: 350–399
Result: Pass with Distinction
Score: 300–349
Result: Pass
Score: 250–299
Result: Conditional Acceptance / Remedial Study
Score: Below 250
Result: Fail
I took a deep breath. All right—at least I knew what to aim for. I was betting I would have to score in the First Rank to test out of the First-year classes and dorms. Could I do it?
I was about to find out.
I was worried, but the first few questions were exceedingly simple.
Problem 1 read:
A Bronze-wing dragon eats 120 pounds of meat every day. During a seven-day patrol, the dragon is accompanied by two smaller Green dragons, each of which eats 65 pounds of meat per day.
How many pounds of meat must the quartermaster prepare before the patrol departs?
I dashed through it, carefully showing my work in the space provided and went on.
Problem 2
A dragon's wingspan should be approximately three times its body length from the nose to the base of its tail.
A young Silver-wing measures 18 feet from nose to tail base.
What should its wingspan be if it is developing normally?
By the time I got to Problem 50, I was actually feeling cocky. These questions were nothing—I could do them in my sleep!
I solved some physics problems that had to do with dive angles and flight velocity and then went quickly through a few multiple choice questions about the History of the Madling Wars.
My father had been obsessed by the Madlings, so this part was easy—Auren and I had learned the bloody history of our kingdom’s greatest fight at his knee.
Next came a long fable about a fox and a hare written in the Ancient Tongue that I had to read and summarize in the Common Tongue.
That took me a bit longer—I confess my Ancient Tongue was rusty.
But the more I read, the more the words just seemed to flow for me and when it came time to write the summary, I had no difficulty at all.
It was right after I finished writing my summary that I realized Chud Larson was trying to cheat off me.
I was so engrossed in taking the test that I wouldn’t even have noticed if it hadn’t been for the low sound of a wooden desk leg scraping against the stone floor behind me.
Glancing over my shoulder, I saw Larson leaning forward in his desk, craning his neck to get a look at my parchment. He was obviously reading my translation—which was unfortunately very legible since Auren’s tutor had insisted on neat handwriting.
Quickly, I turned my head and covered my writing with my arm but then I heard a low, angry growl. Looking over my shoulder again, I saw Larson snarling at me like a rabid dog. He made a quick, violent motion with his ink pencil which clearly meant, “lower your arm!”
My stomach knotted with a mixture of fear and anger. Did he really just expect me to let him cheat? And where was the professor while all this was going on?
A look to the front of the classroom showed that Professor Griven had his head down and was completely immersed in a thick, leather-bound book entitled Drakes and their Ways. Wonderful—no help there. But even if Griven had looked up, he might have assumed I was in on the cheating.
There was nothing to do but try to ignore Larson and go on with the test. I certainly wasn’t going to let him cheat and risk my own spot at the Academy.
And hopefully, if I passed with flying colors and he failed, we would be in different classes, and I wouldn’t have to see him much.
I would just have to work extra hard to avoid him and hope he never caught me.
It was hard to put the snarling upperclassman behind me out of my mind, but I did my best. I put my head down and worked harder than ever, going on to the next part of the test which was all about Dragon anatomy.
After that there were a few easy questions again.
State the Drake’s Ratio, read Problem 75.
A dragon's wingspan should never be less than three times its body length, I wrote.
I kept going, rapidly answering questions. I was thinking I might finish before anyone else, but then things got tricky again.
Problem 88
The Quartermaster must prepare enough meat for a three-day emergency deployment. Each dragon consumes 2.5% of its body weight in food per day while on campaign.
Using the Academy's official Dragon Size Chart below, determine:
How many pounds of meat are required to feed:
— 4 Brown Dragons
— 3 Green Dragons
— 2 Bronze-wings
— 1 Silver-wing
— 1 Gold-wing
If the Quartermaster has only 4,000 pounds of preserved meat available, how many additional pounds must be acquired before the expedition can depart?
DRAGON SIZE CHART: DRAGON TYPE
Brown/ common small
Length: 18–22 ft
Shoulder height: 7–8 ft
Wingspan: 35–40 ft
Weight: 3,000–4,000 lbs
Green/ Blue common
Length: 24–32 ft
Shoulder height: 9–11 ft
Wingspan: 45–60 ft
Weight: 5,000–8,000 lbs
Bronze-wing/ Noble large
Length: 38–45 ft
Shoulder height: 13–15 ft
Wingspan: 75–90 ft
Weight: 12,000–18,000 lbs
Silver-wing/ Noble large
Length: 45–55 ft
Shoulder height: 15–18 ft
Wingspan: 90–110 ft
Weight: 18,000–28,000 lbs
Gold-wing/ Noble extra-large
Length: 55–65 ft
Shoulder height: 18–22 ft
Wingspan: 110–130 ft
Weight: 30,000–45,000 lbs
I read it through carefully—it wasn’t that hard really, I realized—it just involved a bit of math. I showed all my work, scratching away with the ink pencil until I came to the right answer—the quartermaster needed 5,262.5 pounds of additional meat to feed all the dragons.
Satisfied with my math, I went on, feeling confident again. But near the end of the test, things got a bit trickier.
Problem 95 read:
During an evacuation, you have time to save either:
two Bronze-wings,
one Silver-wing,
or one Gold-wing.
Explain why the correct answer cannot be determined by size or weight alone.
The expected answer is NOT mathematical.
I frowned as I chewed on the end of my ink pencil. Was this an ethics question? It certainly seemed to be. Math was easy—this kind of knotty philosophical problem was more troubling because it was less straightforward.
You couldn’t determine a dragon’s worth simply by its bloodlines.
There were too many other factors to consider.
I thought of G’lornie, the little brown who had brought me to the Academy.
Jorn’s whole family loved that little dragon, and he had served the Academy well and faithfully for years.
He might not be flashy or as big as a Midnight Gold-wing, but he was loved and loving and hard-working.
I also thought about my father’s Crimson Gold-wing, F’lorn. Gold-wings were at the very top of the Dragon weight class. Their bloodlines were the most Noble and their fire was the hottest—they were the only dragons capable of making Dragon Glass.
But F’lorn had always been in a violent temper—probably partially because my father was bad-tempered as well—but some of a dragon’s temperament is his own. I wouldn’t have dared to get on his back—he would have bitten me in two before I got close enough to even try.
If I had to decide who to save—G’lornie or F’lorn—I knew which one I would pick.
At last, after a lot of thought, I wrote:
"The value of a dragon cannot be measured by mass.
A Gold-wing may coordinate an entire Wing of dragons.
A Silver-wing may be bonded to the Academy's only healer.
Two Bronze-wings may transport more riders than either.
Tactical value depends on mission requirements, emotional bonding, temperament, and other factors—not just bloodlines or physical size. "
There—that was as good as it was going to get, I decided. I hoped the professor grading the test agreed with me. If not, I was going to lose a lot of points on that one.
The final problem was one that required a lot of thought as well.
Problem 100 was an essay question that read:
A mature Silver-wing dragon and rider have successfully flown together for twelve years. During a routine patrol, the rider unexpectedly experiences intense fear after witnessing a fellow rider fall to his death.
The Silver-wing immediately begins to:
— lose altitude,
— overcorrect during turns,
— flap harder while generating less lift,
— eventually enters an uncontrolled spiral.
No physical injury has occurred to either dragon or rider.
Using your understanding of Dragon Bond Psychology, Aerodynamics, and Emotional Amplification, explain why this occurs.
Your answer should discuss:
— the dragon/rider emotional bond,
— how amplified emotions affect decision making,
— why increased physical effort alone cannot restore stable flight,
— the proper procedure for recovering control.
That one took me a long time, and I had to raise my hand for extra paper to complete it. By the time I was finally finished proofreading my answer, several other cadets had gone to the front of the classroom to turn in their tests.
Larson was one of them. He gave me an angry glare, his thin lips curling with rage, as he walked past me. I tried my best not to notice but my stomach felt icy cold as I finally finished checking over all my work and brought my test to the front.
“Ah, Cadet Lysandra, let’s see what we have here,” Professor Griven remarked when I handed him my thick sheaf of parchment.
He began rifling through the papers, nodding as he did so. When he got to the ethics question about which dragon to rescue during an evacuation, he gave me a sharp look. He started to read my essay at the end, but then simply nodded.
“I’ll have to save this for later,” he told me.
I felt my heart beating in my throat.
“Did…did I pass?” I asked. The answer would determine my entire future.
“I can’t very well grade it right this minute, Cadet,” Griven said dryly. “Rankings will be posted in the common areas and the Mess Hall tomorrow at breakfast. Now go and enjoy your dinner—you’ve earned it.”
I left the testing room feeling uncertain—I thought I had done well on the math and physics questions, but I wasn’t at all sure about the ethics and essay sections of the test.
I wished I could have gotten my ranking right away. Still, I supposed it was unreasonable to expect the professor to grade every single test as soon as he got it. Auren’s tutor always had, but he’d only had two students to worry about.
As I stepped out into the hallway, I cast a cautious look around me to be sure Chud Larson wasn’t waiting to beat me bloody.
Auren’s tutor had only taught us academic subjects and while our father had trained my brother in hand-to-hand combat, he had refused to teach me even the simplest hold or throw.
“You’re a woman, Aurora,” he reprimanded me when I begged to learn everything that Auren did. “Your place is in the kitchen—not on the battlefield.”
So I was woefully unprepared to defend myself—though I was fast. Hopefully I could run away from the angry upperclassman if I saw him coming for me. Or maybe if I stayed out of his orbit long enough, he might just forget about me. That was probably too much to hope, though.
But there was no one waiting for me out in the broad corridor but Jorn-o, who broke into a grin when he saw me.
“Hey, there you are, Auri—how did it go?” he asked.
I thought about protesting the nickname, but found I kind of liked it. It was hard to remember to always answer to my brother’s name. It might be nice to have a name that was all mine here at the Academy.
“All right, I guess,” I said cautiously. “How about you?”
“All that math…” Jorn-o shook his head. “I studied for six months for the entrance exams but once I was taking the test it all seemed to fly right out of my head like a Bronze-wing soaring for a Mating Flight.”
“Oh, too bad,” I said sympathetically. “But try not to worry—I bet you did better than you think.”
“Sure hope so.” He ran a hand through his brown hair. “Hey, are you hungry? It’s almost time for dinner and I’d like to beat the crowd to the Mess Hall.”
I put a hand to my stomach.
“Starving.”
Jorn-o frowned as he looked me briefly up and down.
“I can believe it. Come on then—let’s go.”