"Control him, Rivera! You are his rider, not the other way around!" Professor Scarlet's voice cut through the morning air like a blade.
Authority personified. The left side of her face bore the mark of battle—a burn that twisted her features into a scowl. Her broad shoulders and muscular frame gave her an almost masculine appearance, made apparent by the tight rider armor she wore. A sword, both practical and ceremonial, hung at her hip, its hilt worn from years of use. If anyone was fit to teach Dragon Bonding and Combat, it was her.
Once, Scarlet had been the only female dragon rider of her time, earning her place not through privilege but through sheer grit. Now, under her tutelage, new riders were forged—Rivera among them.
"Make him submit to you, Rivera!" Scarlet's sharp gaze didn't waver as she scrutinized the pair.
Rivera's heart pounded. Fear wasn't new to her; she had faced countless challenges since bonding with Earthtipper, her dragon. But this was different. The thought of delving deeper into their bond—of opening herself to his magic—terrified her. She didn't even fully trust her own powers, let alone his.
'I should feel offended, but I won't,' Earthtipper's smooth voice resonated in her mind, dripping with sarcasm.
Rivera shot him a death glare. Earthtipper Lounged lazily on the training grounds, his purple eyes gleaming with mischief and utter boredom. He was already the size of a foal, his blue scales shimmering in the sunlight. His wings, spread slightly, gave him an air of effortless magnificence. He knew he was beautiful, and he relished it.
'Are we doing this, or are you going to keep being the cocky little prick you are?' Rivera shot back mentally, crossing her arms.
'Hey, you forgot to mention 'beautiful,' Soul added, mock-offended.
"Do not be distracted, Rivera!" Scarlet's tone was biting. "We don't have all day to watch you and your dragon play mind games."
Rivera stiffened. No one knew she could communicate with Earthtipper telepathically. Dragons weren't supposed to develop that ability until they matured, just share images. And yet, Earthtipper had already surpassed expectations.
'Please, Tipper,' Rivera begged, trying to keep her frustration at bay. 'Let's get this over with. I'll get you whatever you want later. Just cooperate before everyone thinks I'm a failure.'
'You mean you're not?' he quipped, amusement evident in his voice.
Before Rivera could respond, a voice behind her shattered her focus.
"What's wrong, Whelp? Having trouble taming your anomaly?"
Rivera didn't need to turn to recognize the smug tone. Bhajar. The orc towered over most students, his imposing frame a testament to his warrior bloodline. His earth dragon, Rock, stood at his side, glaring at Earthtipper with molten gold eyes.
Professor Scarlet eyed the two and decided to remain silent. It was the way of things around there. Once you get chosen by a dragon egg, everything that happens in the academy is a means of proving yourself to be worthy. That implies bully too.
"Go away, Bhajar," Rivera muttered, her fingers twitching with barely suppressed magic.
"Oh, no need to get upset," Bhajar sneered. "When you inevitably fail, I'll be happy to take your dragon off your hands. He deserves a real rider, not some halfling who can't even control her emotions."
Rivera's resolve cracked. She spun, swiping her hand through the air. Six razor-sharp icicles materialized and shot toward Bhajar.
He smirked, tapping into his own magic. The ground rumbled, and a wall of stone rose to intercept the attack.
Scarlet, arms crossed, watched the exchange with mild interest. She wasn't one for coddling her students, preferring they learn through trial and error.
"Temper, temper," Bhajar taunted, stepping closer. His mocking grin fueled Rivera's anger.
Without thinking, she summoned another wave of ice magic. This time, Bhajar countered with a barrage of rocks, forcing Rivera to dodge as he closed the distance.
'You're lagging and thinking too much.' Earthtipper remarked, his tone almost bored.
'Not now, Tipper!' Rivera snapped, deflecting a punch aimed at her ribs. She twisted, locking Bhajar's arm behind his back in a painful hold and freezing it. Momentarily stunned, Rivera took the opportunity and kicked him behind the knee, bringing him down. She raised her leg in an attempt to stamp at his disgusting face but Bhajar rolls away, shattering the hold on his hands.
"You're surprisingly strong for someone so weak," Bhajar grunted, his voice laced with mockery.
Before Rivera could retort, Bhajar muttered a command to Rock, his dragon and the earth dragon lunged, his tail sweeping Rivera's legs out from under her. She falls with a startled cry.
"You really are pathetic," Bhajar sneered, standing over her. He reached down, his hand aiming for her hair.
A low growl rumbled through the air as Earthtipper launched himself at Rock, the two dragons colliding with a thunderous crash. They rolled across the training grounds, claws and teeth flashing.
"That's enough!" Scarlet barked, her voice cutting through the chaos.
But Bhajar wasn't done. He stepped closer, his smug grin widening as Rivera tried to stand to her feet.
"You're weak, Rivera," Bhajar said, his voice dripping with contempt. "You don't deserve—"
Something inside Rivera snapped. The word "weak" echoed in her mind, stoking a fire she couldn't contain.
A scream tore from her throat, raw and animalistic. Magic surged outward in a blinding wave, throwing Bhajar and Rock across the field. The force knocked everyone else off their feet, including Professor Scarlet, leaving a stunned silence in its wake.
Rivera's vision blurred as exhaustion overtook her. The last thing she felt was a pair of strong arms catching her before darkness claimed her.
Memories before the reaving
Concentration and patience—two virtues Freya prided herself on—were slipping through her fingers like grains of sand.
"Magic sharing with your dragon enhances the bond and boosts your power." *Poke.*
"Taking too—" *poke* "—much of their—" *poke* "—energy leaves side effects for—" *poke-poke* "—both you and your dragon—"
Freya whipped around, her flame-red eyes narrowing dangerously. "The next time you poke me, I'm punching you in the throat."
Ariella, her perpetual shadow for the last three days, stood there with a sheepish grin, holding a thin stick.
"Sorry! Really, I'm sorry!" Ariella squeaked. "But I still have questions!"
They were seated at the back of Professor Madack's classroom, safely out of his sight—or so Ariella thought. Freya didn't know if she should admire her persistence or be infuriated by it. For the past three days, Ariella had been everywhere—classrooms, dining halls, even the bathroom. The girl's unrelenting curiosity knew no bounds, and if Freya didn't indulge her, she'd resort to the stick.
"After. The. Class." Freya growled, her words a low threat.
Ariella gulped and nodded, facing forward. She turned to face Freya, as if to say something, but a quick flick of Freya's wrist sent sparks dancing on her clenched fist. Ariella wisely decided against speaking.
The class dragged on, though Freya barely absorbed a word. Her patience wore thin, and Ariella's staring from the corner of her eye didn't help. The only saving grace was the absence of any more poking.
When the lesson finally ended, Freya hurriedly packed her things, intent on escaping before Ariella could intercept her. But as soon as she stood, she found herself face-to-face with her grinning tormentor.
"Fine!" Freya groaned. "What is it this time?"
Ariella rattled off her questions rapid-fire. "Can Sanguis already fly? How did you share his magic without draining him? Can you communicate with him now? Does he hunt his own food?"
Freya clenched her fists, suppressing the flames threatening to ignite. Most of these questions had already been answered, but Ariella's endless curiosity knew no bounds.
Inhaling deeply, Freya counted to ten in her mind. "No. Long story. No. No." Each word dripped with exasperation.
"I see," Ariella said, tapping her chin thoughtfully. Her expression suggested she didn't believe half of Freya's answers. "Alright, then. If I have more questions, I'll knock on your door. Or, we could discuss this with the principal? It's not every day an elf becomes a dragon rider, after all."
Freya's jaw tightened. Ariella was playing with fire—literally and figuratively. "Feel free," Freya hissed, forcing a sharp, insincere smile. "I'll gladly answer."
Without waiting for a reply, Freya turned and strode out of the classroom, barely resisting the urge to let her flames loose.
Her next class was elemental control. Freya already knew the basics—she probably knew more than most of the students—but attending the class was better than wandering aimlessly. The stares she received in these lessons, though, were less than welcome.
As the only female elf dragon rider in the school, Freya stood out like a wildfire in a dry forest. She knew some students envied her, while others simply feared her. Then there were those who avoided her entirely, unwilling to challenge the reputation she had begun to build. Those, she loved.
She was walking briskly toward the classroom when a shoulder rammed into her, sending her stumbling.
"Hey! Watch it!" she snapped, turning to see who the culprit was. But the figure disappeared down the hallway without a glance back.
Freya was about to let it go when something caught her eye—a piece of paper lying on the ground. She kicked it over absentmindedly, only for her heart to skip a beat at the sight of what was on it: a viper's head, mouth open wide, fangs dripping blood.
Her blood ran cold.
Only one person—or rather, one group—used that symbol. She thought she had escaped them, thought she'd finally found peace.
Clenching the paper tightly, she turned and followed the hallway, her movements fueled by equal parts anger and dread. She shoved people aside as she pursued the shadowy figure who had collided with her. More papers littered her path, each marked with the same sinister symbol.
Her chase ended at the library, where the trail stopped abruptly. By now, her hands were full of crumpled papers. With a low growl, she incinerated them, the flames swallowing the symbols before the ashes drifted to the floor.
The smell of old books and scrolls filled the air as she stepped inside. Freya hated libraries; they reminded her of her father, who had forced her to read endless texts despite her protests. She preferred action to words, but now, words had dragged her here.
At the far end of the room, she spotted him.
Kazeem.
He lounged at a desk, a dagger in hand, picking at his teeth. His dark hair fell in strands over his sharp, angular face, and his tattered shirt bore the unmistakable marks of fire damage.
"I see you haven't changed," Freya said coldly, her voice low and dangerous.
"And you've grown sharper, little flame." Kazeem's grin was wide, his green eyes alight with excitement.
"How did you find me?" Freya asked, cutting straight to the point.
"Straight to business, as always," he replied with a chuckle. "The General sends his regards. Says he misses your… talents. He's building his forces, you know. A world free of reptile riders—it's what we've always wanted."
"And if I refuse?"
Kazeem twirled the dagger, his grin widening. "Well, things might get… unpleasant for you. And your precious dragon."
Fire ignited in Freya's veins. "You won't touch him!" Her voice cracked with fury, the air around her thick with heat.
Kazeem's laugh was sharp and mocking. "Calm down, little flame. I've already met your dragon. Gave me this," he said, gesturing to his burnt shirt.
Freya didn't wait for him to finish. She lunged, fire coating her fists. But Kazeem was faster than he had any right to be or any human should be. One moment he was in her sights; the next, he was behind her.
"How—"
"Let's just say," Kazeem interrupted, "the General's new friends have made me stronger. Strong enough to do… this."
A force slammed into Freya's mind. She dropped to her knees, a muffled scream escaping her lips as the connection to her dragon was severed.
"Squirming already?" Kazeem sneered. "Pathetic. The General will wipe out all of you—every rider, every dragon. It's only a matter of time."
Freya's panic reached a fever pitch as Kazeem's power tightened around her. Her dragon, Sanguis, roared in her mind, his anger and fear bleeding through the link.
And then, in the midst of her desperation, Freya did something she hadn't done in years.
She pleaded.
Kazeem's laugh echoed through the library. "Pathetic. I'll spare you both this time, little flame. But next time… there will be blood."
With a snap of his fingers, he disappeared, and the hold on Freya's mind vanished. She collapsed, gasping, as Sanguis's presence flooded back into her consciousness. His rage and concern enveloped her, and she barely had the strength to reassure him.
Moments later, the dragon burst through the library window, his little form filling the space as he sniffed her urgently. Once satisfied she was unharmed, he curled protectively around her, his low purr soothing her frayed nerves.
For the first time in a long while, Freya felt lost. She didn't know what to do.
But one thing was certain—she had been found.