Chapter 12: Episode 11: The Three Dragons
Landon’s big hands were fists tightly at his sides as his eyes were on his cousin Cian.
Cian refusing to help felt like a physical slap, somehow worse than Nymeria’s insult to Landon.
Nymeria had embarrassed them but Cian is making it clear he didn’t matter at all and he was supposed to be his cousin.
Laena was no different. She stood beside Landon, her face was filled with a frown as her stomachs twist with anger.
She was fighting to keep the anger inside her from breaking loose.
Nymeria’s words crushed the perfect image she had worked so hard to build. Her years of training, and the hard way she had climbed the Academy ladder, and the effort to be member of the Bonded, it was all just "petty dating drama" to Nymeria.
"Now, take your little pet and get out."
The words were still resounding into Laena’s mind as another anger spiked inside her. She wanted to scream, to rush at Nymeria and tear the bored, perfect look off her face. But she did not stand a chance to fight Nymeria alone except her dragon, Veridium is involved.
It’s his fault.
Laena thoughts shifted to Reynold. It was easy to blame him and besides, Reynold was the name that had ruined her perfect chance of being a member of the Bonded.
He had made her look like a fool.
"Rey It’s all your fault! You are worthless, weak pest! You are just trying to ruin everything! Why now? Why couldn’t you just stay a loser?" she cursed him in her head, the bitterness almost making her puke.
Landon saw the anger look in her eyes. He quickly licked his dry lips as he grabbed her hand, holding it tightly. He didn’t dare look back at Cian or Nymeria.
"Come on, Laena," Landon mumbled, his voice tight with disappointment. "We have to go."
He pulled her fast out of the Hall. And the heavy wooden door shut behind them with a loud thud.
....
Reynold let out a dry sound from his throat. His legs were were tired and he was feeling pain and numb under his boots.
The sand under his feet was an endless, white sand, burning under a sun that was so hot.
He was running. Run.
That was the only thing his terrified mind could focus on.
Behind him, the ground shook again as a heavy THUMP-THUMP-THUMP sound rattled his bones. He moved his neck and glance back.
The three dragons were still coming after him.
The Black Dragon, was big and terrifying. The Dark Red one was lean and fast. And the last one was brown in colour.
Reynold tripped, his ankle stepping and twisting on a small rock, and he crashed down using his face to hit the sand. Sand filled his mouth and stung his eyes.
He clawed at the ground, pushing himself forward on his hands and knees, his legs were already very tired.
No. Not yet. I can’t die here.
He pushed himself up and stumbled to his feet, but his heart dropped looking ahead.
The desert ended. Ahead was a massive, black chasm like a bottomless pit.
He dug his feet into the sand at the very edge and stopped. His chest heaved, taking huge, fast breaths.
There was nowhere to run to.
He turned slowly, with his stomach twisting in fear.
The three dragons were landing.
They landed in a half-circle, their heads lowered, their eyes focused on him.
The Black Dragon opened its jaw, a deep, earth-shaking sound rising from the throat..
Reynold squeezed his eyes shut against the coming heat, holding his hands tight to his side.
ROAR!
He wake up in bed, gasping.
Reynold sat upright with cold sweat on his face. His heart beat wildly. The sheets of the bed were twisted around his legs.
His breath came in fast, short gasps.
It was a fu£king dream but it felt so real.
He wiped the sweat from his forehead, fighting to calm down.
His eyes landed to the clock on the wall.
8:15 AM!
"Sh!t!"
He threw the blanket off. He had to report to the Academy by 8:30 AM. He had overslept!
He hurried into the tiny bathroom, splashed cold water on his face, rinsed his mouth, and quickly pulled on dark clothes.
He grabbed his backpack, slung it over his shoulder, and picked up the plain, wooden nameplate from the table.
He rushed out of the Wyrmwood Academy Hotel.
Inside the Wyrmwood Academy was impressive. The main Rider building was a huge fortress of white stone and dark tiles, built to look like a giant dragon’s wings. The central tower were topped with a giant dragon head.
A small, arched gate at the back of the Rider building that leads to the Magic Academy, It was a four glass and steel towers that glowed softly with internal magic. The two sides were separate but linked.
Reynold hurried into the crowded central courtyard that was full of nervous, excited, and confident new students.
He ignored the grand buildings and went straight to the large, floating Magic Display Board where the lists were posted.
His name ws at the very top. Reynold Starweaver.
As he stood there, the crowd started growing louder as more students noticed him.
"Look, that’s the guy who skipped the first trial and still got in!"
"Four scores over ninety? That’s insane."
"A 98 on Flight Theory? Unbelievable. And he’s good looking, too."
Reynold felt his ears get hot, but he kept his face calm and showed no reaction.
He found the check-in area in a corner, a small stage where older cadets were handing out supplies.
A Year 4 Cadet, wearing a dark blue cadet uniform with gold trimming, stood behind a simple table.
Reynold went up and gave her his wooden nameplate.
The senior girl took it, ran it over a small magic slate, and got a packet. "Reynold Starweaver. Rime Wing Dorm. Classes start tomorrow. Here are two sets of the uniform. Don’t lose your name plate; it’s your key and I.D." The cadet’s voice was clipped, her attention already drifting to the next student.
The uniform for the first-years was a simple, crisp black tunic and pants with plain silver buttons, no signs or ranks.
"Thank you," Reynold said, taking the packet. He left the staging area quickly, heading for the rime wing dorm.
He followed the directions to the Rider Dormitory Wing. He reached the door marked rime wing and swiped his nameplate.
The door made a soft, magic-powered sound and opened.
He stepped into the common room of a four-person suite. Three young men were sitting at a table, already arguing about dragon gear. They looked so much alike they had to be triplets or siblings.
"Hi," Reynold said, giving a small, friendly wave.
"Huh," one muttered, not looking up.
"Whatever," the second grumbled, messing up his brown hair.
The third just raised an eyebrow at Reynold, judging him silently.
Reynold didn’t mind. This was Wyrmwood; everyone was already fighting for position.
He found his own room marked RS506 and swiped his nameplate on the door, and walked in.
The room was small but fine. A simple bed, a sturdy wooden desk and chair, and a wardrobe.
The walls were gray, and a window looked out onto the busy courtyard.
On the desk, there was one odd item: a beautifully carved wooden dragon, flying, with dark, shiny obsidian stones set into the eyes. It was the Academy’s welcome gift.
He dropped his backpack and tossed the uniforms onto the bed, staring at the dragon’s dark eyes as his mind shifted back to his dream earlier.
But he quickly shook off the thought. He needed to unpack his small stuff and get himself ready for his first class tomorrow.