Chapter 9: Episode 8: He Is A Magic user
Theron was already vibrating.
The air seemed to freeze as Professor Valerius eyes were fixed on him.
Valerius pointed a single, accusing finger at the plate Reynold was holding. "Then perhaps you can explain to me why the space for Trial One is empty. Why is Reynold Starweaver’s first trial space blank?"
Theron licked his lower lips nervously. He glanced desperately at Reynold, who stood with his arms casually folded..
However, before Theron could stutter out his lie, a young cadet came forward and leaned in, whispering something into Professor Valerius’s ear.
The Professor’s eyebrows barely twitched. "Excuse me.." He said.
Seeing his opportunity, Theron darted toward Reynold, his face pale.
"Reynold, please, you have to help me!" Theron hissed, grabbing Reynold’s sleeve. "Just tell him i forgot to record the score for the first trial. Anything! Don’t mention what I said earlier. Please!"
Reynold removed Theron’s hand from his body as he chuckled.
This was the same arrogant peacock who tried to ruin his chances of getting into the academy. No way he was offering a help.
Reynold cleared his throat. "That sounds like your problem, Theron. Not mine." He casually pulled his sleeve free.
Theron’s face twisted. He was finished.
At the corner, the cadet was whispering something to Professor Valerius.
Professor Valerius listened, his face turning into a frown.
He nodded to the cadet then walked back to Theron.
He stopped before Theron and Reynold.
"Theron," Valerius’s voice was cold. "Your actions today were in-excusable. You nearly cost this Academy a potential great Rider. If this young man was not determined, we would have lost a talented candidate due to your arrogance."
Theron face fell. He tried to defend himself but he couldn’t... "Professor, I..I just thought.."
Valerius didn’t let him finish. He curled his right hand into a fist and a visible shimmer, like heat coming out from asphalt, appeared around his fingers, turning into a white mist.
Theron screamed, dropping instantly to his knees and clutching his stomach. He was in pain. He tried to scramble backward but he could not.
"You will remember this lesson, Theron," Valerius eyes glowing faintly with internal energy. "Your uncle’s influence is the only thing still keeping you at the academy, but it has not give you the authority to do whatever you want. A cadet who cannot bond a dragon cannot commands respect here."
Reynold’s mouth hung half-open.
Damn! He was a magic user.
Reynold’s father had told him that magic users are powerful and they also help to shield dragon riders during the war. Just like they have magic users who are healers, they also have magic users who are warriors.
This was his first time seeing a magic user performed. Reynold swallowed hard, his eyes snapping to Theron, who was now filled with cold sweat, and groaning softly on the floor.
With a sudden release of tension, Valerius unclenched his fist. The white mist vanished. Theron collapsed completely, gasping for air.
Ignoring him, Valerius turned to Reynold, his harsh expression was replaced by a slight smile.
Reynold instinctively stepped back, a little intimidated. Magic Users were said to be cunning and dangerous.
" The first trial is concluded, Reynold," Valerius stated calmly, his voice returning to normal. "All trials are timed due to the Magic Board that records the results instantaneously. It locks once the window closes."
Reynold’s heart shattered as his fell. "It’s over, then? I missed the cut-off?"
His dream of Wyrmwood was dead.
"Not entirely," Valerius said. "Your performance in the other trials are exceptional. They offer evidence of high potential. The Academy will not lose a candidate of your caliber just like that."
Reynold’s face lit up.
Valerius stepped forward and gently patted Reynold’s shoulder. He took the small, wooden score plate Reynold still held and inscribed a symbol on the back.
He handed the plate back.
"Congratulations, Starweaver. You are now an official student of Wyrmwood Academy."
"YES!" Reynold let out a muffled shout of joy, clutching the plate like a priceless gift.
"There is a temporary residence for new candidates outside the main gates," the Professor continued, gesturing vaguely. "Find the Wyrmwood hotel, it’s the first block to the left. Report there tonight. Be at the main assembly grounds tomorrow morning."
Reynold nodded. "Thank you, Professor. Thank you." He turned ad left.
The murmuring crowd erupted.
This was the first time a candidate was accepted into the academy without completing the trial.
Soon, the news spread like wildfire.
...
Reynold found the Wyrmwood hotel easily.
Standing by the gate was a man, beside him was his Dragon, a mid-sized, emerald-scaled dragon that was emitting a low, guttural thrum, the sound dragons made when settling.
Seeing the dragon, Reynold instinctively took a step back.
The Rider glanced over. "Plate."
Reynold fumbled for the marked plate and gave it to him.
The Rider scanned the plate. Seeing the Professor’s mark, he nodded once, and patted his Dragon’s flank.
The Dragon shifted its massive bulk aside with a groan, clearing the entrance.
Reynold passed through the gate and into the hotel.
...
It was now 9:30 PM.
In a secluded hall of the Academy grounds, far from the cadets dormitories, a large stone hall buzzed with activity.
Dragons varied in size, flew into the compound. Once the riders dismounted, the dragons lifted off again, heading toward the main dragon stables.
A few figures dressed in rich white and black robes, clearly Magic Users, moved inside the hall.
The dragon riders were not dressed in cadet uniforms, but in beautiful sexy dresses and sharp formal wear.
This was the ’Bonded group.’
Near the double doors, two cadets, a boy and a girl were in a deep kiss, oblivious to the traffic around them.
A rider, just having climbed down from her midnight-black dragon, strode toward the door, pausing only to look pointedly at the kissing pair.
She raised her eyebrow.
"Honestly? Get a room," she drawled, pushing past them without waiting for a response.