Every year, hundreds die within the walls of Basgiath War College. It's no surprise that many are those who choose the Riders Quadrant. Dragons do not tolerate much, but neither do the ruthless gryphons on the outside of the wards.
At least...
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・・・ ・・・ ・・・
Varrish is striding toward me with a sneer on his ugly face. Unfortunately, Rhiannon has left my side in favor of running toward "Clice" to meet her, so I have no backup. I sink my shields into place, pressing the magic further and further into my mind, layered upon each other until even Tairn's channel feels a little fuzzy.
"Ah, there you are," he snides like I was easy to miss before finally coming to a stop a few feet away from us. It's not like the biggest—and only black—dragon in the quadrant is standing right behind me or anything. "Major Varrish," I greet with a small dip of my head, but my eyes don't leave him. If Aetos sings his praises, I don't want to find out what kind of signet he has right here. All that bastard ever valued was power. He pulls his hands behind his back, showcasing his pristine uniform he's ironed like he's infantry and distinctly no patches.
"Quite the necklace you have there." His eyes glance down pointedly at the bruises marring my neck. "Thank you. It was expensive." I tilt my head up and back slightly so he can see the worst of it along the right side. "Worth a life." "Yes, that's right. I recall hearing you were nearly done in by a first-year." Venom and disgust pour off his tone. "Good to see that the embarrassment didn't the finish the job he started. But I suppose you must be used to barely squeaking by alive, seeing as how you like to stick your nose into business that isn't yours." I raise a brow, but smirk slightly to myself. "I'm not usually concerned about it. I'm so unkillable, I couldn't even kill myself."
From the corner of my eye, I see Sawyer and Ridoc's heads turn in my direction, but I can't afford to look away from this vermin before me. He leans slightly to the left to look around me like he can't see Tairn from well above my head. "I thought you were bonded to two dragons?" "I am." My blood freezes instantly, so quick I couldn't guarantee it's not whatever Fior's mystery gift is. With the reminder, I lock my shields down once more. "And yet, I only see one." He looks up at Tairn. "Where's your little golden one? The feathertail I've heard so much about? I was hoping to see her for myself."
I almost laugh at him, biting back a chuckle by just a breath that makes his expression sink. "Mine isn't golden, sir," I tell him. What I can't tell him is that he can see her right now, considering she's two positions over growling at Violet. "I'd implore you to read Kaori's logs again." A growl rumbles through Tairn's chest. The ground vibrates underneath our feet as he leans over me to drop a massive glob of saliva right before Varrish's perfectly polished shoes.
He steps back, but the amusement doesn't leave his face. "Always has had a temper, this one." "He likes his space," I offer. "I've noticed he likes you to have yours, too," he comments, to which I nod. "Tell me, how do you feel about the way he gives you... shall we say an easier path than your fellow cadets?" I raise a brow at the implication. In what way? His protectiveness? The feature of many bonded dragons over their riders?
