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We circled each other; me making little flurries of rapid strikes. I wanted his eyes on my sword, not me, focussing on what it was doing. I waited until his gaze was firmly on my blade for several seconds and then I feinted, looking like my weapon was about to swipe down at his face, his instantly moved to stop me, yet as he did, I shifted my strike with a roll of my wrist, my blade making a dull scraping sound as wood rubbed against wood before hitting his shoulder. My sword moved like lightning, pushing the advantage of surprise with a rain of blows. His shield came up too late as his sword arm struggled to stop my blow. I felt a thrill of satisfaction as I forced him back, swiping at his legs when he stumbled. His arms windmilled as he struggled to stay on his feet, his sword and shield thrown wide. I was on him, sword point at his neck the moment he landed on the floor. He sat there for a moment, blinking after he’d pulled off the mask, then he burst out laughing, taking the hand I offered to help him up.
My heart thundered in my ears, but I felt it for the first time in ages. My grin when it came was not due to social obligation, I was genuinely pleased. Rationally I knew the dragon rider was probably taking it easy on me, not expecting much of the Intro students, but putting him on his arse made me bloody happy. I was capable; I was strong.
“Someone with talent! I forgot what that felt like. Well done! Well, you did it, you beat me fair and square. I hope the rest of you were watching closely because you’ll need to do the same if you are to have any chance of serving in the infantry,” he said to the ring of students who had watched our bout.
“So I’ve passed this class? You don’t need me to keep coming?” My heart swelled that finally, finally all those hours ‘playing at being knights’ as Mum had put it had proven useful for more than just a good cardio workout. I could spend this hour catching up on notes, getting my papers written…
“Not keep coming? No, no, no. We need someone like you with battle experience and a dragon. Too many of the riders think familial connections are all that’s needed and too many of the grounders are angling for desk jobs. Let me have a look at your timetable. I need to see where I can fit in some extra training slots. The rest of you, back to work! You have to get a pass in this class if you want that degree.”
“No way,” I said flatly, looking at the hand waiting for my timetable and shook my head. “I only need to pass this one.”
“But Aravisia needs—.”
“Aravisia can kiss my bloody arse,” I said. I tucked my hair behind my ear, showing Keel my weirdly rounded instead of pointed tips. “I’m not Aravisian, I’m here because I have to pass enough units to get honorary citizenship or they’ll take my dragon forcibly, so if you can let the VC know I’ve passed your practical exam, that’d be great.”
I turned on my heel and marched out, which would’ve been a lot more impressive if I wasn’t still bundled up in armour and toting a wooden sword. By the time I was forced to retrace my steps, Keel was preoccupied with teaching the rest of his class, though I noticed his eyes straying over to me as he did so. When I was finally sans battle gear, I settled down in one of the couches and tried to put Vella’s notes back in order. I was still at it when class ended and the dragon riders appeared.
14
“What happened?” Vella said, holding up a piece of paper covered in footprints.
“Someone pushed me down the stairs and then all the other someone’s walked past without helping,” I said, gritting my teeth.
“This is bullshit. I’ll have a word—.” Alden said.
“With who? Forgive me for pointing this out, but aren’t you all protected by big, powerful families? Like I’m guessing dukes and barons or chief officials.” I could see which had which by their changes in expression. “I don’t have family here, or anyone with influence for that matter.”
“You have us,” Alden said. I looked around the group, wondering how the others felt about this. Vella frowned slightly, then placed a hand on my shoulder. Grey appeared a little bored, eyes going to a couple of cute girls that walked past and Rylen just stared out the front door, obviously having not heard any of the exchange. I had to say, I wasn’t entirely sold on these guys as a support network. “Why don’t you tell us how you got here and we’ll work our way forward from there?”
So I did, over some quite nice coffee in the dining hall. I picked at a cake as I filled them in on Miazydar’s appearance and our adventure in Damorica, as well as a brief overview of his experiences living on the other side of the portal. The vomit stories got me a few laughs, but mostly they were preoccupied with the differences between our worlds, and that there were other worlds. I got the impression the Aravisian government liked to keep its people ignorant. That and the fact that Miazydar had effectively been brought into being by a spell. Grey shook his head, frowning, then looked up at me. “This is big, like really, really big.”
“Yes, we realise—,” Alden said.
“No, no, you don’t. We’ve been covering this in Advanced Econ, this place basically works on the supply and demand for dragons. Limited supply and a whole lot of power for those who have them. What you’re capable of, that magic, if you could find a way to use it on command you could change everything. The monopoly Aravisia has, the gap between dragon riders and merits.” He looked across the crowded dining hall at the other students. “You could change all of that.”
A cold finger of panic slid up my spine as the four of them stared at me, waiting for a reaction. My eyes scanned the room without really seeing it, the mumble of hundreds of people talking drowned out now by the rapid boom of my heart. I saw the dragon riders waiting for some indication that this had already occurred to me and my response to it. “Fuck,” I rasped, my voice catching in my dry throat.
I had made the wrong damn decision. Losing the Damorican portal would have sucked, but it had been the right call to make. I’d read plenty of fantasy books, in the simplistic ones the farm boy gained great power through extensive quests and then walked right into the now empty position of power to rule forever benignly, but that wasn’t most of them. Power structures in a society relied on a lot of people reinforcing them, supporting them. Any new power source was a threat to it, something to be extinguished. I was something to be extinguished.
Miazydar appeared beside me with a pop, something I had no idea he could do. Neither did anyone else if the exclamations and pointing around the room were anything to go by.
We’ve got to stop doing this, I said to Miazydar.
Do what? Things that other dragons can’t? How am I to know what their beasts can and can’t do? Aravisia has changed completely from when I was here, as have the dragons. I tried to talk to a few of the lunks here about the situation, the university, even their riders and got little intelligent response. They did, however, speak at length about the veritable merits of different food animals.
Yes, but when were you here, Miazydar? Three hundred years ago when the Rozenrrath’s were around? Or two thousand years ago when the Brigintinian Empire still existed?
I watched his eyes shift as he considered the question, but I didn’t get to hear the answer. An older woman wearing a white lab coat approached me. “Ms McKinnon?” she said. I nodded. “I’m Professor Lane from the Science faculty. I need you to come with me and your dragon, of course. All students complete a physical before beginning their studies, something that should have been done before attending any of the Battle Techniques sessions.”
“But I’ve got Introduction to Anatomy next.”
She waved my question away. “That’s fine, I notified my colleague. Now, if you would come this way.”
I looked back at the dragon riders, searching for some sort of indication of what was about to happen. “Rylen will find you before next class,” Alden said and they turned to head off to class.
“So your dragon’s name is Miazydar?” the woman said. We were sitting in a glaringly bright room, every surface either a gleaming white or polished steel. The woman had written down some basic information about me: birthdate, home address (one wondered why) and height and weight.
“You might direct the personal questions to me,” Miazydar said, shrinking down to dog size and then flying over to my shoulder to wrap his tail around my neck.
