XV - The Seven on the Move

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The media on top is Vypress's griffon, guys. Chapter dedicated to my senpai, Wingedknight88 for the unending support.

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"Trust your own instinct. Your mistakes might as well be your own, instead of someone else's."

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Thanks to the griffon, I'm able to confirm two things.

First, Herastall's sun knows no mercy. Travel by air proves to be a bad idea because the extreme heat chases moisture away. This results in the sky being bare of clouds. Worst day to say 'Hello sunshine.'

Second, I seriously have an issue with heights. Riding sword which has morphed into a winged lion only makes it worse. I firmly clasp tight on the creature's thick fur.

Ghastly bauchi. I'm literally holding on for dear life here.

I try to look below. Dizziness plagues me at once. The buildings of the city which appear like miniature blocks when I was at the tower are nothing more than tiny dots right now. Vast stretches of desert surrounds the city outskirts. Deprived of green, Herastall is barren as hell.

Surprisingly enough, Vladimiria seems to be enjoying the trip. The heat doesn't even upset her. She hasn't stopped yapping like a delighted beast ever since we took off.

"Are you feeling well? You've fallen silent since our ascend," Merci asks. Good thing he didn't turn around because it would be strange, speaking to somebody faceless.

"I'm good. Nothing to worry about."

"That's great since it'll be a while before we reach Lagrisme."

"Uh-huh," Xandria mutters, her arms tightly locked around my waist. "Will you stop using arcane, please?"

"What?" I elbow her side.

"You look paler than a ghost and you're slowly getting colder. Are you sure this isn't the work of your frost arcane?"

Her tone obviously speaks pure sarcasm.

"Just shut up."

Xandria giggles softly. Wench She really knows how to annoy people. I'm having second thoughts whether bringing her is the right thing to do. 'Wish you'd fall off'. Then I realize how rude the thought is. 'Maybe not.

"How does the fierce wind slapping your wretched face feel, rookie?" Dragor yells. I glare back, only to be silenced with amazement. He's riding a red dragon, a fierce-looking one larger in size than Merci's lion. The radiant shine of its metallic scales reflecting sunlight instantly captures my attention.

The liquid dripping from its mouth is also worth mentioning. Why? Because it's drooling smoke and lava.

"Griffins come in different forms and abilities," Merci explains, seeing that I'm too stunned with awe. "In fact, their natures are defined by the master's personality. Take a look at Dragor for example. He's a hot head and ill-tempered. So, his griffin is a feared beast that basically reflects who he is."

"Bloodymazing," is all I could say.

"Worry not. You'll be given a baby griffon once you become a member of the Circle."

My heart beat suddenly starts racing. Me? Getting a griffon? What would it look like? An intimidating lion like Merci's? Or a scary dragon like Dragor's? The idea gradually fills me up with excitement. Even Xandria's sarcastic 'tsk'-ing doesn't affect me at all.

Holy scite, I can't wait to arrive at Lagrisme.

"You could have just surprised him, No Face," Xandria sighs. "Look at how this idiot's intoxicated with excitement he's going to burst. It's pathetic."

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