The Dragon Games

Fowler's Six

"Hey!" Cassian elbowed his way to the middle of the circle, snatching the envelope off the table. "This letter was not given to the squad, let's not gawk as if it belongs to us–" 

He saw the seal and broke off mid word. Then, he too gawked at the envelope as if it belonged to him. 

 "Fuck me," he breathed. "Fowler... Fowler has come out of retirement."

The letter was simple, only containing a time, date, and location. I glanced up from the messy black script to find the entire table watching. Judging by their awed expressions, this was the announcement of the century. The gods had descended the heavens to shake my hand.

"Uh," I said, rubbing an eye. "Who?"

A chorus of groans went around the table. Some of them even started booing me. 

"Liam Fowler is the best instructor to have ever graced Skydescent's halls," Cassian said. "He hasn't taken on a new pupil in over a decade. For him to choose only you –"

The back of the mess hall burst into applause. Edmund stood on top of the Balthasar's table, the torches highlighting his icy blond hair and the new button fixed on his riding jacket. He must have been recently appointed as captain, because his new button's design looked exactly like Cassian's. The same dragon eye close up, except his was gold where Cassian could only afford bronze. 

But the real prize was the letter Edmund clutched over his head. His squadmates cheered fiercely for him, but there was something off about their energy. All of them had strained eyes and tight shoulders, like each was afraid to be the first to stop cheering. They might have kept at it indefinitely, if not for squad Steward.

The Steward table formed a line around their new captain – Atlas – and as they swayed to the beat of their chants, they looked directly at the Balthasars in challenge, making sure to cheer even louder. Grinning, Atlas held an envelope of his own, raising his brows at Edmund in taunt.

Sensing a pattern, I turned across the mess hall until I found the Windsor table. Grace Midlands sat alone at the very edge of the bench, facing the wall ahead as she tucked a letter into her pocket. 

Even though only her side profile was visible from this angle, I could tell that she was still the most beautiful girl I had ever seen, like a princess ripped straight from the pages of a story book  – skin fresh as a raindrop, hair black as the night.

"So Fowler chose four new pupils," Cassian amended, clapping my shoulder. "That is still a remarkable –" 

His face froze, honing in on something over my shoulder. I turned around to find another messenger crossing the mess hall with two letters in his hand. Every Tudor instantly went dead silent, holding their breath as the messenger boy walked closer and closer – except for Gordo. 

Smirking smugly, Gordon stood up and extended his hand. I thought it was impossible for anything to make Bianca look more annoyed, until the messenger boy handed Gordo a letter. The second and final one went to Elio – a recipient no one had expected. 

"So I guess they just let anyone in," a new pledge snickered under his breath, only to get elbowed by the Tudors sitting next to him.

But to me, even though I've never even met this Fowler guy, everything he did seemed calculated, from the manner he sent his letters to the rookies that received them. There was a reason behind all of Fowler's selections, whether that be their dragon, divine, or political power, but if anyone could be picked purely based on merit, it would be someone as conniving and well-studied as Elio. 

An uneasy feeling pricked the back of my throat. As if to sense my stare, Elio glanced in my direction, but I was already looking away.