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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・・・ ・・・ ・・・
I don't sleep much. I wouldn't have slept at all if it were really up to me, but between the festival today, flying home overnight, and having classes the moment we get back, this is really the only time I have to do so. So, I do. In the morning, I wake up to an eerie silence. The squad didn't stay overnight, which is a choice that I'm sure was hard to make but is ultimately better. We don't need Calldyr reporting us as absent to Basgiath.
I slowly get out of the old bed. It was mine, though I never used it for anything more than naps. It hasn't been restuffed in seemingly years, which was understandably not Benen's priority. He didn't even think I was alive. Everything on my body is sore, but my skin is the worst after sleeping in my leathers. I really regret doing that.
After gathering my things, I head outside just a few minutes before eight. The entire squad is waiting patiently just outside the property line where the first of many wards barring their entry starts. This one is only about as strong as Xaden's over my room—impressive but unsurprising—and could easily be unwoven to avoid suspicion. I pass through it with only a small tingle to my skin. A headache immediately kicks in, but I've already taken my medicine, and it doesn't hurt as badly when I know it'll go away in a few minutes.
First stop on our silent tour is Tomas' for breakfast. They haven't quite started burning any fields yet, but there are plenty of coal fires in ceremonial bowls already lit. Everything will be cooked over or in one such fire, as Grandma Thalia used to always tell me. The Burning was her favorite holiday by far, and every time I think about it, a piece of me sinks away to some deep abyss. I wish I could've celebrated with her at least once.
"I'll break the silence," Ridoc starts rather suddenly, startling everyone at the table. "What's your signet, Vi?" "Oh, yeah," Sawyer hums as he leans back from the table. "You never told us." Violet tries to suppress a smile, throwing her gaze around warily before moving closer to the center. Thankfully, the restaurant is currently empty, aside from us. "It's a type of Battle Foresight."
The rest of the squad hums something of dimmed-down surprise. "Like Melgren's?" Sawyer whispers hurriedly. Violet nods. "Really gunning for the top, huh?" Ridoc laughs, then takes a swig of his drink. I think he got lemonade. Tomas had some specialty drinks for the festival, which Rhiannon, Sawyer, and I decided to partake in, and Vi stuck with simple water.
Violet shrugs nonchalantly, dropping back to the booth's cushions behind her. "I wouldn't be opposed. Plus, it'll be great credentials whenever we graduate at the top of our class." "Of course," Rhiannon agrees with a knowing expression. "If there's a Basgiath to graduate from," Sawer murmurs under his breath.
Suddenly, every eye around the table jumps to me. I glance around at them before looking away and back down at my plate, suddenly feeling too nauseous to eat anything more. "What's the timeline?" Sawyer asks. "I don't know." I shrug, only managing to get one shoulder in the air. "Tairn and I have been talking about it. He thinks we only have a few months." "What's a few?" Ridoc questions. "Did you find anything in your grandpa's study?"
