Day 1 of the Scythe season, year 2447

The long-awaited event was finally about to begin. Azéna was about to begin her training as a dragon rider. Her life was about to undergo a drastic transformation. She felt a little nervous, but mostly excited.

She didn't wait long. Rendar, perched on one of the walls of the academy, gave the signal with a deafening roar. Several other dragons joined him. Each was mounted by a humanoid. The crowd fell silent, and hundreds of eyes focused on them. 

“Recruits, parents, family, friends, I welcome you to the Archlan Academy,” Terenas began in a voice that was much stronger than before. “First of all, I'd like to introduce the academy staff to my right and left. Then we'll move on to more exciting things.”

Azéna looked at each of the dragon riders around her. She noticed that there was a duo who had a family resemblance and an outfit more extravagant than those of their companions. She assumed they must be of higher rank except for Terenas, of course. She stared at them, one by one, counting a total of ten dragon riders and dragons.

“Don't stare at people like that,” Leith muttered in her ear. “You never know. You might offend the wrong person one day.”

“Are there different kinds of elves?”

One of the dragon riders had elven physical characteristics, but he was different. His skin was coppery instead of bluish and his ears were much longer and at a lower angle.

The teenager's eyes widened. She honestly didn't think such people existed. The realization that there were two different races of elves blew her mind.

She continued to stare at the staff and stopped at a young man with long ebony hair tied back in a ponytail. His small, dark, piercing eyes met hers. At first, she felt intimidated. Fortunately, he quickly turned his attention to the other recruits. His dragon, like Tyrath, was of the grey flight, but its scales were iron grey and it was three times his size.

“Do you know him?” she asked Leith, pointing subtly at the hard-looking man.

“No. He must be new. Be polite and don't stare.”

Azéna tried to follow her advice despite her tempting curiosity. She was distracted by Terenas who spoke again:

“Without further ado, let us begin the binding ceremony. Future dragon riders, line up in front of this wall.”

The potential recruits followed his orders with haste. Their gaze sparkled as they followed the dragons waiting nearby. It was a dream come true for them, just as it was for Azéna. She felt fortunate to have Tyrath as her partner.

“Now,” Terenas continued, “I need to bring you up to speed on a few things. Before you introduce yourself to the dragons, you should know that once you become a dragon rider, your loyalties will lie solely with the Guardians of Aerinda. This is a security measure to preserve the balance of power between the kingdoms and to avoid disasters. Also, as an apprentice dragon rider, you do not have superiority over others. Where you come from, your gender, age and titles do not matter here and you will have to give them up for the rest of your life. You will all start at the bottom as equals.”

Concerned murmurs spread through the audience.

“Make your choice now.”

Some candidates withdrew immediately. Most of them were dressed in eccentric clothes, suggesting that they belonged to the noble castes. They certainly did not want to lose that prestige. Azéna saw much more integrity in becoming a dragon rider: protecting Aerinda and forging an eternal friendship with a dragon.

“This is outrageous!” shouted one of the parents. “My son is the next patriarch of my family, my heir! I refuse to lose him!”

The young rebel girl couldn't have been more disappointed with the greed of these adults. She felt the urge to punch them. She would never give up Tyrath for a throne. All the same, she was slightly shocked at the conditions for becoming a dragon rider. It was an oath not to be taken lightly.

“Holy woodruff, you didn't tell me that,” she grumbled, turning to Leith. “I'm fortunate that these things don't matter to me.”

“Apologies,” the healer replied. “I was concerned with you and Tyrath’s safety.”

“You could have warned us anyway.”

“It doesn't matter. Once you are bonded, you are expected to respect these rules.”

“Pfff… Whatever, it works in my favour. There will be no more favouritism and no more people telling me what to do because I'm supposed to be a lady representing her family. Besides, there are such strange people here that I will be considered normal for once in my life.”

Leith smiled weakly, seeming torn between contentment and sadness.

“Finally,” Terenas continued, “it's possible that no dragon will choose you this year, but don't despair. Next year may be better. Now, swear that you will keep your oath or pay the price of betrayal.”

Azéna felt a lump of anxiety rise in her throat, yet she chanted with the other recruits: I swear.

“Come forward and present yourselves to the dragons,” said the grandmaster.

The recruits obeyed and stood in line next to each other.

The Kindirah girl had no need to join them, for she was already bound to a dragon. A dragon who had come to collect her personally at her home. Smiling proudly, she stared at Tyrath who puffed his chest slightly, and laughed softly.

“By the way, what's the price of betrayal?” she asked Leith casually. “It can't be as severe as in Daigorn, can it? I mean, you steal, you lose a hand. It’s insane.”

The old woman's proud face darkened. She gave her no verbal response.

The little rebel felt uncomfortable. Maybe she shouldn't have sworn an oath without knowing the details. It was too late now. Bayrne had often warned her about how strict the disciplinary actions of some of the other kingdoms were and how lucky she was to have been raised in Daigorn. 

One of the staff members cleared her throat and announced the singing of the draconic flight anthem. She was a small moon elf with white hair who was sitting on her blue dragon. She began to sing, her voice most enchanting like a caress.

Black as night, white as snow

All the mystery of purity will clear up

The bright flight will bring justice and honour to all

It will fight against the evildoer and the ungrateful

Their dark and misunderstood brothers will take their place in solitude

Their eyes will be fixed on independence

The blue ones, curious spirits of the storm

In the neutrality of a tepid drop

Will become the intelligent rivals of the

Greatly jealous, tough and passionate: the red ones

Whose determination only has eyes for his ambitions

Earth or wind are opposites untouched by each other

Solid conscience which will have fun during challenges,

The grey ones will remain faithful to themselves

The brown ones retain immortal wisdom

That will react calmly and will offer guidance

One cannot live without the other

Yet no one understands their opposite

Deep romantic is the purple one

Faithful zeal is the green one

The sensitive flower will bloom shyly

The soul of the tree will protect the balance of life

In openness, they do not understand each other

Idealistic, the amethyst will weave bonds

Conservative, the emerald will drive out the intruder

In the depth of a soul, the dragon will seek its place

Pure wholeness; in conflict or in agreement, it will bond

For each is a challenge to be met, a problem to be overcome

As soon as she was done, it was like everybody could breathe again. At least, that’s how Azéna felt.

“A beautiful voice, as always, Neige,” Terenas complimented, encouraging the others to applaud.

Neige made a small bow and her winged partner grunted as it shook its big, majestic head.

When the dust settled, one by one, the dragons, ready for the possibility of meeting their own partner, passed by the recruits and examined them carefully. Some of them did not react to anyone and flew away, while others showed affection for a particular person.

The last dragon had cerulean-blue scales and, clearly male, a pale goatee hanging from his chin. Like the rest, he took the time to observe each recruit carefully, but seemed disappointed every time.

When he reached the halfway point of the row of recruits, his glittering gaze fell on Azéna. He stared at her with envy. Uncomfortable since she was already bonded with Tyrath, she moved a few steps to the right, revealing Fayne. She hoped he would continue on his way, but he stood there frozen like a statue. He blinked slowly and seemed lost in his thoughts.

After a long moment of inactivity, he stepped forward. The closer he got, the more obvious it was that the centre of his existence revolved around Fayne. Fayne, visibly confused, looked away to Terenas, who nodded in encouragement.

“I think we have our last recruit for this year,” he announced with a smile.

He had just confirmed the suspicions of the herbalist who began to beam with joy. Amazed, she put her hand on the dragon's snout. His bluish scales glowed with the brilliance of a gem. She could see her reflection through them, unlike Tyrath's who were matte. Like a horse, he had an ivory mane. On either side of his head were large horns. The tip of his tail was equipped with a pair of fins that allowed him to steer with ease in a storm.

“My name is Buhrik of the Thrienhaj clan,” he introduced himself in the softest tone he could muster with his voice, which had a rough edge like all the dragons’. “Buhrikthrienhaj.”

He stroked his long pale goatee with a scholarly air.

“Buhrik,” Fayne murmured.

Her voice was filled with recognition and wonder. It sounded even more alive than before. She cocked her head to the side, deep in thought, and then hurried to answer him:

“My name is Fayne of the Litfow family. I am a native of the kingdom of Daigorn.”

“Nice to meet you,” Buhrik purred. “I had a feeling you were going to be well mannered.”

Azéna held back a chuckle. She knew her friend could be as fiery as her mother from time to time.

Buhrik brushed his muzzle against Fayne’s cheek. At his touch, she smelled a refreshing storm scent. Despite his cold colour, his presence and physical touch warmed her. When he separated from her, she noticed the noticeable softness in his eyes. She lost herself in those two tempestuous spheres of a vibrant turquoise hue.

“Fascinating, isn't it?” the aeromancer asked, realizing that her friend had just experienced the same emotion she had when she met Tyrath. “Now you have no choice but to suffer by my presence for all our years of training.”

“Sadly,” Fayne chuckled, looking away toward Terenas with gratitude, but you could see that there was some concern in her expression.

But as much as all this pleased Azéna, it also bothered her as well.

The grandmaster nodded, content. The redhead hesitated, but finally took the oath. 

Then the audience and staff cheered the new apprentices. Soon after the brief celebrations, Terenas announced that it was time to enter the academy.

The intimidating fortified doors of the colossal seven-towered fort opened with the magic of Neige and the duo Azéna had noticed earlier.

Terenas cleared his throat before continuing:

“I will ask the relatives, friends, and unfortunately, those who were not lucky enough to have bonded with a dragon, to leave. We will move on to the next stage of the ceremony which is private. You will hear from your loved ones soon.”

The parents hurriedly bid their children farewell, either by covering them with kisses and giving them a zillion hugs or in more formal ways by giving them a handshake or by bowing.

“Don't worry, Mother,” said a young teenager with a white dragon at his side. “On my honour and our kingd…”

“Only on your honour now, my dear,” corrected the mother.

“On my honour...! I will become a great Guardian of Aerinda!”

He seemed filled with confidence. He took off his long gold embroidered cloak, put it in his father's hands and bowed low.

Azéna noticed a drastic difference in culture between the various races and also between the prestige of the families. She was glad that her adoptive parents were not present. She had to admit that she was missing the friendly duels with Argent and the naughty tricks she was pulling with Ravon and Gendrel.

At the main gates of the academy, Terenas was overseeing the whole event, making sure the apprentices were entering at the right place. Fayne stared at him with big, round eyes.

“Give me a moment! Please, Grandmaster!”

“What is it?” he replied with interest.

“I don't want to impose, but... my belongings. I have absolutely nothing, no equipment from the list.”

“Don't worry about that. You're not the first one to have this happen to, though it is rare.”

“Thank you, Grandmaster,” the redhead replied, bowing slightly.

The apprentices lined up to enter one by one. In the meantime, Terenas approached Leith.

“Leith, you still don't want…”

Desperation was in his voice. Whatever he was talking about, he didn't seem convinced that the healer would accept. It couldn't have been the first time he'd tried to convince her.

“I have my reasons for coming back, my dear,” the old woman interrupted. “I do have two conditions to this, though.”

“We can discuss this in my office,” Terenas replied, smiling weakly. “Thank you, really. We missed you dearly.”

“Oh, that's enough flattery. Go on, get out of here, Grandmaster. You have new apprentices to impress.”

The moon elf pulled on the reins of his partner. Rendar took off and headed for the seventh tower, which stood like a stone tree in the centre of the fort. Leith watched them go, a solemn expression on her face.

“Hurry up,” someone ordered in an authoritative tone.

Azéna's eyes instinctively turned to the back where the voice was coming from. It was the dragon rider with the ebony ponytail. He was on foot and hurrying the apprentices to the entrance of the fort. 

“W-watch out...!”

A turbulent teenager stumbled and bumped into him. They wobbled before regaining their balance.

“Ruvior... I'm... sorry,” breathed the younger dragon rider. “I tried to warn you.”

An irritated sneer formed on the lips of the one called Ruvior.

“That will be Master Ruvior for you, Apprentice Murkwan, and no one, least of all you, will be an exception.”

The teenager seemed to lose all confidence as Ruvior maliciously said the words "no one" and "you".

“What are you waiting for? Go in.” the master asked, turning his menacing eyes away to Azéna and Fayne.

The two friends were overwhelmed by his imperative voice. Fayne lowered her eyes and started walking. Azéna smiled weakly, waited a little and glanced in the direction of the adult. She had a feeling she wasn't going to like him. He was already irritating her with his megalomaniacal attitude.

He walked with a hurried step toward his dragon which was waiting for him near the wall of the academy. After climbing onto its back with feline grace, he motioned it to take flight. The grey dragon obeyed and disappeared inside a huge window that stood to the right of the main doors, high above ground.

“Hmph," grunted the Kindirah girl as she followed her friend inside. “What an asshole…”

She thought she could fool herself into believing that the obnoxious master was not to be trusted, but the back of her mind was buzzing with interest. He controlled the same element as her and he had many years of experience at it. She knew she could learn a lot from him. 

She told Fayne what she had seen.

“No way!” the redhead exclaimed in amazement. “He went in through the roof, with his dragon?”

“Dragons can only come into Archlan’s Hall and a few specific rooms,” Leith explained. “But the hall is the only room big enough to hold many of them.”

“What is "Archlan"?” asked Azéna.

“It's the name of the founder of this academy who fell a long time ago.”

Fayne glanced behind her and saw the young man who had tripped over Ruvior. He was rubbing his cheek with one hand, wincing in pain, and pushing a mint-green strand of hair away from his face with the other.

“Do you think he’s wounded?” she asked her friend.

“Eh? Who?” replied the Kindirah girl who wasn't really paying attention to what she was saying.

“Him.”

Azéna followed the herbalist's gaze and observed the teenager in question.

“He’s an elf. They are tough. It said so in the fairy tales Rivatha read to me when I was young... Not that they're fairy tales now... Either way, he's going to be fine, I assure you.”

Fayne stared at her in amazement, her eyebrows raised.

“You don't even know what you're talking about, do you? Why should elves be tougher than humans?”

Azéna ignored her and pointed in front of them where they could finally see the inside of the academy.

“It doesn't matter. We've arrived! Look!”

Before they walked through the gates, a staff member in armour offered to take care of Shirah. With the consent of the two friends, he escorted the troxx to the stable. Tyrath and Buhrik entered the same way Ruvior and his partner did. They were followed by a multitude of dragons, all different colours and sizes.

Azéna, Fayne and Leith had gone to a small room lit only by a few torches, whose flames gave a strange supernatural feeling, as if they were soaked in magic. 

Two staff members, one being Neige, were welcoming the dragon rider apprentices on either side of the room. They invited them to go sit at their respective tables in the Hall of Archlan, which was the next room. 

As they passed, they were stopped by Neige.

“Ah, Leith, Terenas has asked me to convey his warmest greetings to you and to inform you that he will be waiting for you in his office in the Mother Tower immediately after the ceremony.”

“Thank you very much, Neige. It's so good to see you again.”

She smiled, sounding honest in her words, but something in her body language told a different story. Her fingers twitched, sticking shyly out of her sleeves.

Azéna began to admire the decorations hanging on the stone walls to distract herself.

“It's much darker than home, but I love it. It's a nice change from the white palace.”

She and Fayne were amazed when they entered the hall. It was huge and the vault was so high and deep that the dragons could fly in

with ease. Specially built perches rested near the ceiling all around the room. There were drawings of scenes carved into the walls. Many of them featured the relationship between dragon and riders as a partnership. There were also some that featured the depiction of Archlan's history, the founding of the academy, and a bloody war that darkened the rest.

The teenagers looked around for their winged partner. Azéna noticed Tyrath rather quickly, as he spread his wings and roared for her attention. Most of the apprentices turned to him, either out of annoyance or fear.

“What a crazy dragon,” Fayne giggled.

A young moon elf in an apprentice's uniform waved at them.

“First year, I presume?” she asked amiably. “I didn't see you last year.”

“Yes,” said the redhead.

The two friends were assigned to the leftmost table where about twenty other apprentices were seated. Once at the table, Fayne finally found Buhrik who was perched not far from them. He greeted her when she met his gaze.

There were five tables that took up almost the entire length of the room. Azéna guessed that they were divided by cycle, since the oldest students were sitting the farthest from her. Facing the five tables, a last one was at the back of the room. Behind this one was the staff members, above whom were perched their dragons, some of which were inconceivably large.

Terenas, who was sitting in the centre, stood up and simultaneously, his companion roared with such ferocity that others fell silent. When the cry of the mighty red dragon faded, he stared at the apprentices with sternness.

“Welcome all, my dear friends, colleagues and young apprentices,” the moon elf said in his strong, clear voice. “A new year is beginning!”

“Don't give me a reason to burn you to the ground,” Rendar growled, his small eyes fixed on the youth.

All eyes, even those of the staff and dragons, were on him. He was undoubtedly the biggest and strongest dragon in the room. Azéna wondered how old he was to have grown so imposing.

“Thank you for those... words, Rendar. Anyway, before I let you eat,” Terenas continued, “I'd like to share some information with you.”

He paused and, taking advantage of the silence, Neige spoke up.

“You don't need the list to remind you of anything, do you, Grandmaster?” she asked in a serious voice, but with a subtle tone of mockery.

Was she implying that his memory was getting poor because he was old? He didn't look that old to Azéna, but then again, that was a misleading aspect about elves.

The man to her right glared coldly at her. Master Ruvior. He commented, but subtly. The young mistress, on the other hand, seemed disconcerted.

Terenas cleared his throat after giving her an amused smile.

“Amusing, Mistress Blakar.”

“Fiara,” she insisted.

It was at this point that Azéna became confused. Fiara? Wasn't that Neige? Come to think of it, she was wearing a different dress, a red one while the so-called Neige was wearing a blue one. She scanned around the table where the adults dwelled more carefully and identified the two. Twins?

“In any case, first I must tell you the rules,” the grandmaster continued. “It's the same as everywhere else. Be civilized, be mature, don't hurt others, either mentally or physically. Also, I will ask you not to enter the Mother Tower, also known as the Tower of Masters, without permission from a staff member.”

He paused to make sure there were no questions or comments and then, when he realized that no one had any, he continued:

“You are here for one main reason; to become an accomplished dragon or dragon rider, but more importantly, a Guardian of Aerinda. This title is only granted when you complete your training, which is after five years of good performance. If you fail, you will train until you are ready. You will return to your parents' home

during the summer vacation. You may stay here if you wish, just let us know.”

“That said, being a dragon or a dragon rider means that you are abiding by the Pact that Archlan himself signed with the representative of all draconic flights, the great Rageroth of the Raluan clan. This pact was made because of the need for neutral guardians in times of war as well as to forge strong bonds between humanoids and dragons.”

The tone of his voice suddenly turned dark at the mention of wars, but it quickly brightened.

“Exactly,” he continued. “Being a Guardian of Aerinda means becoming the protector of life and the defender of peace. I will now recite the pact for you to remember by heart.”

The other staff members and the apprentices looked down in respect. Some took a moment before realizing what was going on and limited them. Azéna had to swallow her pride and her disgust for authority to lower her head slightly.

And so Terenas began.

Thou will do everything in thy power to stop wars.

Thou shalt do all in thy power to protect the balance of life.

Thou shalt do all in thy power to support nature,

for without it, all living things would not exist.

Thou shalt learn from an accomplished dragon and dragon rider.

Thou shalt respect others as long as it does not turn into madness.

Thou shalt be fair and mature at all times.

In times of conflict, objectivity and logic

shall always be thy right hand.

Thou shalt not commit murder.

Thou shalt not steal.

Racism, sexism and other moral crimes

shall not be tolerated from you or others.

Dragon and dragon rider shall help each other and

be faithful to each other, as partners.

You will respect this pact or else the title

of Guardian of Aerinda will be revoked.

The dragons roared and the humanoids cheered.

Fayne concentrated frantically to remember everything. Her face crinkled and she clenched her jaw.

“Do you want a scroll?” her friend offered, trying to speak over the others.

“Yes! Hurry up!”

She aggressively took the paper, quill and ink from Azéna, who was staring at her, slightly shocked, and began to write.

“Well, you're welcome,” the Kindirah snapped.

When silence fell, Terenas continued.

“This is the original pact, which you are to follow with as much respect as you will show for the staff and other apprentices. As for the functioning of the academy, according to your years of experience, you will sleep in your respective tower. The dormitories have gender specific sections, even for fifth years. You are not here to get married and have children. You are here to become the future Guardians of Aerinda.”

Most of the boys let out grunts of despair. Azéna rolled her eyes.

“What a bunch of perverts,” she muttered, placing her chin in her hands to support her lazy head. “They're lucky Terenas didn't hear them. Although I would have liked to see them get their asses roasted.”

“I don't know anymore,” said a human boy with spiky black hair and golden streaked brown eyes who was sitting next to her and Fayne. “Maybe I should have become a knight of Elthen like my father wanted. Oh, Renora! I don’t know anymore!”

“Tch,” growled the girl named Renora who was next to him. “What is this I hear? Vorshiènn Florux, you have made your decision and pledged your loyalty to the Guardians of Aerinda. Do your duty and be honourable as your kingdom has taught you!”

“Yes, ma'am!” he replied, giving her a military salute. “My honour, my soul!”

This was the famous motto of the Golden Cup Kingdom. Honour was an integral aspect of the lifestyle of its citizens. They were known for their loyalty, nobility and good manners.

The young Vorshiènn suddenly seemed determined. Renora smiled mischievously. She obviously knew how to manipulate him. They had probably known each other for several years.

“Your dragons will sleep in a place called the Great Nest,” Terenas explained. “It's a series of caves in Atgoren. It is located in front of the outer wall of our academy. There is one cave for each draconic flight. However, you are strictly forbidden to leave your dormitories at night, so no night visits. As for classes, you will find your schedule on your bed.”

He thought for a moment as if he was trying to remember something.

“By the way, each tower has its own name. These names represent our philosophy of learning in stages. Listen to them carefully. In order: Knowledge, Clarity, Resilience, Growth and Achievement. Each year will be divided into four groups and the classrooms will be grouped into two of these four groups. Classes will begin tomorrow morning. There are several specialties. You will learn more about them during your second year of training. When the time comes, choose your path carefully. You only have half a season to change your branch. Finally, I would like to introduce you to our staff before the feast begins. For your information, a sage is an advisor, often to a grandmaster. Together, the three form the High Council. They are: I, Wirus and Murun of the Senblom family.”

He turned to his staff. Two of them stood up at his signal.

Wirus was blond, had green eyes and was dressed in a crimson unisex robe. The man to his right, probably Murun, looked like him except his chin was slightly more triangular and his eyes were a reassuring brown. He looked friendlier; his features softer.

“Wirus will teach the anatomy class and Murun will teach draconic wellness,” Terenas continued. “Now I'd like to introduce the rest of the staff. Starting to Murun's right is Fiara Blakar. She teaches draconic and elemental mastery.”

A bunch of fifth-cycle apprentices applauded. Azéna guessed that, under normal circumstances, Fiara would be young enough for a man of their age to have a chance to woo her. Sighing, she stared at the mistress who ignored the cheers.

“Neige Blakar. She teaches mind control and mana control to those who need it.”

The young elf with pale bluish-beige skin did as tradition dictated; she greeted the apprentices with a slight bow. Despite her serious expression, she exuded an aura of singular and endearing beauty.

“Vyrius Arahich. He will teach physical training, combat and the optional strategy course.”

He was the copper-skinned elf. He was bent forward and despite his obvious youth, his body language suggested that he had an old man's constitution. Curiously, his eyes did not stay fixed in one place for very long. He looked as if he was struggling with himself and seemed uncomfortable. Anxiety, perhaps?

The man with the dark and severe gaze on his right ignored him. Despite this, he couldn't hide his irritation. Unlike the others, he didn't even bother to react when Terenas introduced him.

“Reaginn Ruvior. He will teach survival. Finally, he will discipline the apprentices who earn detention. I advise you not to go to that point.”

Azéna remembered him: long ebony hair tied in a ponytail and small eyes with an iron shade. She hadn't liked it when he had attacked the boy earlier.

“Eldarytzan Valkirel. He teaches draconic psychology class and history.”

Eldarytzan was a moon elf with long, smooth, silver hair. His piercing blue eyes caught Azéna's attention. Strangely enough, something about him intrigued her, but she couldn't put her finger on what.

“Nymia Valkirel. She is the head of security at the academy, and also trains the skotar players and teaches the flight course and the optional politics and command course.”

Nymia looked reasonably young, perhaps in her early thirties. Her gaze was stern, but passionate. A subtle tinge of defiance dominated her comforting brown eyes. Although she didn't know her by any  means, the aeromancer had no doubt that she had guts.

As she sat down, she was greeted by Eldarytzan's mischievous, almost envious gaze. She met his eyes briefly, frowned slightly, then turned her attention to the apprentices.

“Well, well,” Azéna murmured with a mischievous smile. “Even the masters have to break the rules sometimes.”

“What do you mean?” asked Fayne.

“They're a couple, obviously.”

“You're so hopeless,” replied the redhead, rolling her eyes.

“Pfft, it's so obvious. But I’ll admit it's cute.”

“Anything that breaks the rules is cute according to you.”

“Precisely. It adds spice.”

She turned her attention to Terenas, whom she hoped would announce that the food would be served soon.

“Last, but not least, Leith Shidira, who is returning to us, will take up her previous position as healer and teach healing and botanical to those who need it.”

Leith, who had been sitting at the end of the table, stood up, waved to the crowd, who applauded her. She seemed delighted, but Azéna had the feeling that something was amiss.

“It's sad for Leith,” Fayne said. “But I'm really excited to be working with her in healing and botany!”

“Sad about what?” asked the rebel, who was absorbed by the subtle concern in the traveller's face.

“She's not bound to a dragon. I mean... I think.”

“Maybe that's why she retired. Do you think they'll let us go if our dragon dies?”

“No! I… I don’t know… Don't say things like that!”

“So, did you notice anything wrong with her?”

“Of course, I noticed, you turkey,” replied the redhead, nudging her friend. “She must have a lot of memories here that are returning.”

Distracted by the words of her friend, the Kindirah girl did not anticipate the friendly blow and received it in her rib. She crouched slightly, swearing silently, hoping to alleviate the pain that disappeared rather quickly.

“No... There's more to it than that,” she muttered to herself.

“Here we go!” said Terenas, opening his arms as if he was sure he was happy to see all the apprentices before him. “It's time for lunch!”

The doors to the kitchen opened and several servants walked through. They placed beautiful dishes in front of the apprentices and the academy staff.

“Wow!” exclaimed Azéna excitedly. “Even my parents' cooks can't achieve anything like this. It certainly cannot be compared to this work of art.”