Warfire | Broken Time Series: Book Two

Chapter 16

The first thing Nagan noticed was the lack of a Professor Fai. Instead, the two lieutenants who were with General Byteron on the first day were in his place — Wyvet and Qentor, he believed — and their dragons laid behind them with watchful gazes. Very much full-grown dragons, in fact.

Immediately Nagan thought they were there because the general once again thought of Professor Fai unworthy, leaving two of his own to teach instead. He quirked an eyebrow as he watched the lieutenants talk amongst themselves, not very impressed with them overall. Both of them didn't look motivated to be there as Qentor stared blankly ahead and Wyvet talked his ear off. He had already fought the general today, perhaps fighting two at once wouldn't be any harder.

Soon after the thought crossed his mind, he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up as both Milora and Az shot him a pointed glare. They knew him well enough to know what he was thinking. But it seemed they weren't the only ones who caught on as Wyvet turned and scanned across the crowd quickly before settling her gaze to meet his. She sent him a lazy smirk before saying, "Relax, kid. We're old students of Fai, and he asked us to fill in for the basics as he takes care of a few more things."

She soon moved on as students finally settled around the field. "Since it looks like everyone is here, I'll start with introductions." She motioned to Qentor before motioning to herself. "This is Novo Qentor, and I'm Bonnetta Arim Wyvet, but Qentor and Arim or Wyvet are preferred."

The students barely had enough time to process their names before Wyvet was moving once again. She picked up a basket that was next to her dragon, and the basket was filled with scarf-looking items, all made with a black material.

"These will be your flight masks until you decide to get fancier ones of your own," she said while holding up one for display. "You will be required to wear one every time you mount your dragon while you're training. Afterward, not so much, but it'd be smart to wear one. They are enchanted to draw more oxygen in as you climb to higher altitudes. Unless you want to be chanting some oxygen-drawing incantation and drain your magic reserves, you'll want to wear these."

With that, she began passing them around with the help of Qentor, who Nagan had still yet to hear from at all. One by one the masks were handed out, and it wasn't long until they had reached their little group. Wyvet stayed behind while Qentor continued on after they had received their masks.

"So you must be the kid who fought General Byteron," Wyvet grinned lopsidedly, but soon added after giving Nagan a once over, "I must say, though, I kinda expected you to be taller."

Nagan didn't know if he should have been baffled or annoyed. Both perhaps. Instead, he raised an eyebrow as if silently asking, Yeah? What of it? Both Wyvet and Nagan stared each other down, neither of them saying a word until Nagan huffed and crossed his arms.

"Sorry to disappoint you," he said sarcastically before turning his attention to Qentor who continued to pass the masks around dutifully. "Shouldn't you be helping him instead of chatting?"

Wyvet laughed heartily at that. "You got some spunk, kid. No wonder the general hates you so much. Fai must adore you. Anyway, I'm not actually here to chit-chat. Here."

She shoved something that felt like smooth glass in his hand. Not exactly discreetly, but at the same time at an angle where the other students couldn't see what it was. Glancing down at the item, he saw it was a vial of a muddy liquid that he quickly recognized as a nourishment potion. He looked back up with question, only to be met with the still-sly grin Wyvet casually wore.

"It doesn't take a genius to know your dragon is one of the wilder ones, so you'll need every bit of energy you can muster to even get a saddle on her," Wyvet said, stealing a glance up at Ravi who merely cocked her head to the side in curiosity. "One day you'll be able to get a custom saddle for her, but for now all we have is the standard ones."

She then gave Nagan a small tap on his shoulder before strolling away, only to throw over her shoulder, "Keep the vial. It's not like I'll be needing it."

The class then continued on as normal, albeit after Az had checked the potion and deemed it safe to drink. It wasn't long until all the masks had been passed around, and Qentor and Wyvet made their way back to their dragons.

"With that all taken care of, there are a few more sets of instructions that need to be followed," Wyvet explained, but her smirk took a sharper turn as she said, "If they aren't, I can guarantee a swift end."

A shiver ran down the spine of every student, and some audibly gulped. Wyvet burst out laughing at their reactions soon after.

"Just kidding. You should've seen your faces!" She eventually calmed down enough to continue with her usual cheerful demeanor. "But seriously, listen carefully for your own safety. Qentor and I are great flyers, but, you know." She shrugged. "Things happen."

So maybe that promise of a swift end wasn't so much of a joke after all.

"First off, is how you put on a saddle. I don't care if you've done it before on your parent's dragon or something, I want all of you to watch carefully."

After that, everything seemed to be a whirlwind of activity with Wyvet continuing to do the talking while Qentor gave the physical demonstration on his dragon from how to adjust the saddle to different seating arrangements that would suit specific dragons. It was a surprising amount of information to take in, yet it was explained easily enough. Nagan was sure Wyvet would've made a marvelous professor if she wasn't a soldier. The woman seemed to have an unlimited amount of energy, after all.

It was deeper into the evening with the sky beginning to turn orange by the time the instructions were done, and Qentor, by Wyvet's request, wordlessly summoned the correct saddle type to each student present. "Is he mute?" Nagan heard Gath whisper, and he couldn't help but wonder the same. Nonetheless, all of them got to work.

Or at least tried to.

"Iccmiravi, I swear—" Nagan grunted as he awkwardly draped himself over Ravi's back, trying to clasp the straps together snuggly enough so the saddle wouldn't move, yet Ravi continued to wriggle and puff up her scales to get in the way. "Must you be so difficult with everything?"

"I think you're the last person to get a saddle on your dragon," Az noted.

"That's why it's a work in progress, not an instant process," Nagan replied grumpily. Ravi then snapped her jaws at Nagan and huffed smoke in annoyance, only for Nagan to glare back. He was used to the attitude by now.

"Are you sure you don't need any help?" Milora offered, having long since abandoned the silent treatment once Ravi started making a fuss.

"I do, but I can't rely on help all the time. Besides, if Ravi wasn't being such a big baby about this—" Ravi whined in objection, "—then I'm sure this would've been done twenty minutes ago."

Growling in frustration, Nagan straddled the amphithere's back in favor of leaning closer to the clasp, only to instantly regret the decision. Ravi held a triumphant gleam in her eyes. The act was a massive trick. Before he could react, purple tendrils held Nagan in place tightly by his legs as Ravi ripped the saddle completely off with her teeth and threw it to the ground. The look of utter horror spread across his face as Ravi spread her wings.

"Ravi, don't you dare—"

The wind rushed against his face as they took off into the air.