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“Now, class...” Rend said, waiting for everyone’s attention. He continued to wait but nope, everyone was still staring, even Vella, whose eyes had gone wide. “Class?” Still nothing. I was looking, ready to learn, really, really ready to learn, but people had even turned right around in their seats to take a look. “Class!”
Apparently that was enough to get people’s attention. As if waking from a dream, everyone faced the front and focussed. Rend looked both flustered and relieved to have order back. “If you remember last time, we covered the use of dragons in the former Brigintinian Empire and how this was the precursor to our current system. Obviously, they were utilised in quite a different way, giants being no dragon riders. Now, who can tell me what they were predominantly used for?” A sea of hands shot up, though Vella’s notably didn’t. “Yes, Mishie?”
“They were used as both a messenger service and to cart freight around the vast empire.”
“Correct! Without the use of dragons, it would have been incredibly difficult to maintain connections between the far-flung centres of trade and—.”
“Well, that’s not true.”
Miazydar had slipped from my shoulder, increasing his size until he was about the same as his dog form, so his voice came out clear and deep when he interrupted. Sure enough, everyone’s eyes were back on us. “I’m sorry?” the professor said with a frown, sounding anything but.
“Shut up, shut up!” I hissed.
“Where are you getting your information from? Dragons weren’t aerial cart horses for anyone.” I glared at the M, hoping that somehow via Vulcan mind-meld I might be able to get my dragon to stop derailing the class.
“Information? Why only straight from the walls of the ziggurat at Pelasia.” Rend clicked a button on the wall and a light appeared on the screen at the front of the classroom. He navigated past a dizzying array of images before settling on a bas relief, carved on an ancient building. Several stylised looking human figures stood holding out what appeared to be packages to much smaller dragons who swept down, talons outstretched. For a second, the professor looked like he was in his element, his finger tracing the flight path as he explained his interpretation of the image. When he was finished his smile was smug as he waited for Miazydar’s retort.
Shut up, M, I said. You may be right, he’s probably wrong, but we’re not getting out of here by publicly humiliating a teacher.
“This is a depiction of the giants making offerings to the dragons. This is a depiction of veneration, not slavery,” my dragon said.
“Fuck. My. Life,” I mumbled to myself, punctuating each word with a smack to my forehead. I’d studied history and anthropology, I knew that current cultural bias when examining historical artefacts was a thing, I just didn’t feel the need to ram that down the throat of the guy who was going to mark my paper.
“Your dragon...” Vella struggled to put into words all she was thinking. Of course, she did. Hers was sitting outside, obediently whiling away his hours on top of his eyrie, dropping down to feed when needed. He didn’t change size or form, he definitely wouldn’t have come to class to argue about the content.
Miazydar, I need you to sit down and shut up. No response. Miazydar, now. I need to learn whatever interpretation of history this guy is selling and be able to write a paper on it. It’s what I have to do to get us home. M? He ignored me, continuing to debate the issue.
“And what qualifies you to contradict the teachings of Aravisian academics?” The professor’s challenge rang out across the classroom
“I was there.” Gone was the arrogant tone M had been using before. Instead, the bristle went from his spine, his eyes dropping to the floor as if considering what he’d just said. Rend didn’t. His smile went wide, his teeth glimmering in the bright artificial light.
“You assert you’re a Rozenrrath dragon, a family that was put to the sword over 300 years ago, and you were also alive to see the Brigintinian giants, whose empire fell over 2000 years ago? A dragon’s lifespan is several hundred years, if pampered, which certainly wouldn’t have happened under the giant’s rule. You have invalidated your own ridiculous arguments, now begone from my classroom. I’ll not have the education of hard-working students compromised by what appears to be little more than a spoiled pet. Ms McKinnon, remove your animal, or remove yourself with him.”
“But Professor...” Scalla said, raising a hand.
“Sit down, Ms Andus.”
I managed to get Miazydar to return to his eyrie with a combination of pleading and threatening. He was quite agitated, his yellow eyes reeling as he tried to explain his point about the carving, talking me through each part of it and telling me what he thought it represented. It took me dropping down to his level, wrapping my arms around him and saying, “You may be right, but this guy is a gatekeeper. We will not be allowed to keep our portal in Damorica, nor fly about the continent, without a passing paper marked by him. He’s telling me what he wants to see in it, I need to give it to him, even if you think he’s wrong.” I could feel M’s claws flex and curl on empty air, his body thrumming with tension. “Go back to the cottage, have something to eat, keep the guys safe and I’ll be with you as soon as I can.”
“I’m not a dumb animal!”
“I know, that’s the problem, but I, we, have to do this, OK? I’ll see if they’ll let you come to my other classes, but you need to keep your mouth shut.”
“But —.”
“Seriously M, it’s the only way.”
Rend barely acknowledged me as I took my seat, the lights in the classroom dimmed now that he was working his way through his slides. I picked up my pen and took notes on whatever I could, having no framework for what was useful and what wasn’t.
He looked my way a few times as if daring me to interject. Nope, that was my dumb arse dragon, not me. I was too busy trying to work out who the hell Thothen II was and why his reign was significant. I noticed a few people around me taking the same amount of notes, but I just scribbled on, glad when class finally finished and my aching hand could rest.
“Did any of that make sense to you?” Vella asked, looking concerned.
“It would be bad to say no, right?”
“We’ll get you up to speed,” she said with a pat to my arm. “Don’t worry.”
“Despite this being a beginner’s class, we’ve all studied the Brigintinians as children,” Scalla said, her eyes sliding d
