A week had passed since my first flight. A week filled with training, drills, lessons and study. Oh, sweet Saint Columba above the amount of study there was to do. Anatomy, flight theory, aerodin… airodyke? Air theory. Feeding practice, grooming practice, this, that, and the other thing as well, and honest as God’s truth it was starting to be a fair bit overwhelming. In just one week, the stack of books next to my desk was starting to reach up to my hip, and each was weighty enough that I could probably grab one and beat Beithir to death with it. Admittedly she would probably maul me after the first hit, but it was the principle of the matter, not the actual ability.

The point of the matter, as I sat back in my chair and stared at the heavy tome in front of me, was that I was exhausted from studying. With a tired hand, I reached past the book to retrieve my pipe from its holder -a simple wooden thing- and with a sigh, I pushed myself back up from the desk and made my way over to the window. With a simple push, it swung open letting the salty air from the channel filter into the room and tickle my nose. I grimaced slightly but leaned out the window regardless. I wasn’t quite used to the scent of saltwater, and it has yet to grow pleasant to my senses. It doesn’t help that it managed to almost completely drown any scent of nature beyond that of the aviary, though that may just be how new I am to being near the ocean. Scotland, while never particularly far from the ocean at any place, usually had enough hills to keep the smell of the brine away.

That, and the general scents of the farm I supposed. Leaning out the window I lit the pipe, the taste of tobacco filling my mouth a moment later before I breathed it out. One nice point of living near the big cities is, at least, cheaper tobacco compared to home. I had given up the art of smoking entirely at home, not so much here. Of course, here I’m not allowed to smoke in my room or on the grounds, something put in place due to Morrigan’s personal preferences. Hence why I was currently leaning out of my room over the grounds. I smiled around the pipe, idly glancing about the grounds. I didn’t particularly have the funds to afford the tobacco, truth be told I didn’t much have the funds for anything. But I don’t have much future to worry about either, it was, as far as I figured, quite simple. I either succeeded in my goal to make the money back to pay off Wellbrook, or I became a homeless worker in London. I wouldn’t be the first, I damn well wouldn’t be the last, and I was determined to at least get some small enjoyment as I could while my meals were being provided for me along with room and board. Tapping the pipe against the window frame a moment I glanced back at the room. The mattress was laying on the floor, blankets set atop it. Morrigan insisted I sleep on it, but the silly mick never specified how.

The moon illuminated the room well enough, more than the faintly flickering candle sitting on the desk. Its orange light cast odd shadows onto the tan pages of the book, and I watched it dance briefly before moving my gaze toward the mannequin standing just beyond it. It was dressed in my armor and helmet, proudly displaying some dents and scratches from the times when Beithir got a rather amusing opinion about whether or not I should be allowed to ride her. The beast had taken to me well, but she had a stubborn streak to her like a horse that needed to be broken. Of course, I could just use a twitch on a horse if it was feeling particularly feisty, Beithur would most likely set it on fire and then myself, possibly not in that order. Beithir was fast but hard to control, very… temperamental, but she seemed to calm down well enough once I actually mounted her.

Walking forward I slid my hand over the desk, idly running my hand over the open book before closing it and dousing the candle with my fingers. The room fell into darkness, the only illumination being the moonlight coming through the window. But the darkness was something I was used to, it wasn’t like my original home had a great number of candles either. Continuing my walk I grabbed my outfit from the mannequin, then made my way out the door.

If it wasn’t to be a night of study, it would be of training. If I had to spend one more bleeding moment reading about the theoretical theories of theoretical practices by Mr Pendragon I would more than likely use the pile of pages for kindling. At the very least, the hallways were quite pretty to look at at night; the moonlight poured in through the giant windows, illuminating the tiled floor and the statues. It was beautiful, and it was a private pleasure I had come to enjoy in this place, if only because -with the lack of students- I was the only person around at this time of night. Barring Morrigan, but as far as I was aware she was situated far away on a higher floor. With the help in their rooms, there was no one to bother me as I took an evening stroll through the building. The shadows of the night stretched and morphed the statues as I walked by, somehow making them taller and grander in obscurity as I moved down the hall. I stared at their white faces as I passed, a few now recognized to me… but none I was particularly impressed with. All were former students, and all went on to do this or that, attained some titles or made riches.

I would be happy just getting the farm back.

Not to say the image did not dance in my mind as I stepped into the lobby and then outside; Arthur Adair, the greatest wyvern rider to ever grace the land! The thought brought a chuckle out of me as I walked. All boys had dreams like that when they were younger, now there was just far too much to do, but I would for the time being enjoy the situation I was put in. With a smile on my face, I made my way into the stables, and I had to admit that they were a fair bit better than the one I had the misfortune of seeing back in London.

It was, in effect, a long and wide tunnel. Easily a good three to four dozen feet across and four to five times as long. The floor was dirt with stone walls surrounding it, and spaced a good distance apart on either side was a row of cages built into the walls themselves. Unlike the stone floor of the stables in London, these were dirt, allowing the wyverns inside of them to rest comfortably. The entire structure was in barest essence a straight line with two large openings on either end that could be closed with an iron gate. The reason for this particular setup was only revealed to me the first time I had to fetch Beithir from here; so that a wyvern could step out, and assuming the gates were open, sprint down the track and lift off the moment they were outdoors.

A rather smart system, and rather more humane. I’d have rather kept my wyvern in the aviary if at all possible, but that was running on a schedule of wyverns being allowed in it at certain times, and then only alone. As two wyverns trapped in there together could get territorial, and as I have been taught, a territorial wyvern tends to set things on fire… and the aviary is full of trees. So, for reasons of sanity and landscaping, the wyverns instead spent most of their time in the stable, or, if multiple wyverns were in the aviary, their riders had to be with them at all times.

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

A low growl filled my ears, and I realized that I had stopped in front of Carnelian’s cage. The beast staring at me was nearly a third again as large as Beithir, and a helluva lot meaner as well. Bright red skin with a tan underbelly, its golden eyes stared at me as I quickened my pace. The two horns on its head, signifying it to be a… frankly I didn’t recall, it wasn’t a brute, but it wasn't a ‘swift-drake’ as Beithir was called either. All that mattered was the giant hulk of meat and flame was best off far away from me, and I found myself walking rather quickly up to Beithir’s cage. Her head lifted as I approached, Beithir had apparently been resting it on her own stomach, and I watched as she unfurled herself to look at me, blinking in a way I had learned was meant to be curiosity. The cell that Beithir found herself in was rather large, a good thirty feet in every direction to allow the occupant movement, you are separated by a sturdy iron cage with a rather complicated gate and a far simpler human-sized door.

“Well good evening Beithir, all rested from the flight earlier?”

She tilted her head, tongue darting out to taste the air as I reached for the door to the cage. With a click of the handle and a shunk of the latch, it swung open. I got about halfway into the paddock before Beithir stood up on her two legs and lumbered over to me. I grinned at that, idly reaching up to pet her snout while looking her over.

“Wounds just about healed up on yer wings, gonna leave a scar sadly. Feeling good?” Beithir let out a loud ‘huffing’ sound that I’d taken to equate with a cat’s purr, and I doubled the speed of my rubbing on her snout. “Well now, glad ta’ hear it, up fer a ride this evenin’?”

“I’m starting to think you enjoy her company.” Morrigan said from behind me.

I jumped, then jerked my head back to see her staring at me from behind the bars. “Ya need to stop doin’ that ya damned cutpurse.”

Morrigan smiles, slightly. “What would that be?”

“Sneaking ‘round like some fox trying to get at the hens.”

The Irish-woman rolled her eyes. “I wasn’t ‘sneaking around,’ I was checking on Carnelian.”

“Aye, ah’m sure,” I replied, then turned around to face her. Beithir snorted, and I felt her tongue lick the back of my hand as I answered her question. “An’ why wouldn’t I?”

“It did destroy your livelihood.” Morrigan responds.

“She was just a scared animal, ah particularly big one, but still just an animal. ‘Sides, hatin’ her won’t fix the shed now will it?”

Morrigan makes a non-committal noise, not replying for a moment before she looks down the track towards the southern entrance. “I’ve entered you for the tournament in London, it’s the start of the season for them, so you’ll be doing one after another.”

I arched a brow. “I assume there is a payout for this?”

“There is,” Morrigan responded, looking back at me as she spoke. “I’m surprised you aren’t asking why I signed you up for it.”

“Ah need the money to pay off Wellbrook. Ah don’t have a choice, ah either get good enough to make some money or Beithir goes back to that bampot. Frankly ah’m willin’ to do anythin’ needed to become a good enough rider to accomplish that. Ah was plannin’ on taking Beithir out on a night-time ride over the channel if that was alright, have yet to take her out at night and ah figured me and ‘er could use the exercise.” I asked.

“Alright, but tomorrow we are starting with the obstacle course.” Morrigan responds.

I stared at her. “There’s an obstacle course?”

Morrigan only smirked and walked away, leaving me alone with the wyvern poking her nose into my back. Well.

Something to look forward to at least.

---

Beithir let out a happy trill as she stretched her wings, her powerful feet thudding on the ground as we made our way out of the stables. I was now fully armored, with Beithir’s reins in my grip as I got her up to speed. With each passing moment, she grew faster and faster, the loud thump of her feet getting louder and longer along the ground as she tucked her wings tighter and tighter to her sides. The moment before we reached the threshold she leapt forward, her wings extending then slamming down towards the earth, and with a rush of wind we were off in the air.

Beithir did not take off with the rapid flaps of a bird, no, she took off like a bullet in flight. One large burst of power, then her wings tucked at her sides as she used the speed she gained on the ground to propel herself into the air. Once she cleared the treetops I jerked the reins to the right and Beithir responded immediately. Her body tilted, one wing extended as she curved around to the right and towards the water. I then snapped the reins back, causing her to pull into a climb, with just the right amount of pressure from my legs on her midsection her wings start to flap rapidly, the wyvern gaining more speed despite the climb I was currently leading her into.

The wind whistled by my ears as the earth got farther and farther below me, and with another -harder- press of my legs she slammed her wings into the air, lifting so rapidly that I rose out of my stirrups briefly. Then we hit the clouds; foggy, wet, freezing air passing by as she tore through them. It was a matter of seconds before we were through them, and once we were I pushed my feet down on the stirrups, telling Beithir to level out and slow down, spreading her wings as wide as they could go to glide along. Controlling a wyvern was a lot like controlling a horse, a horse that moved in three dimensions and had a bad attitude. Reaching down I patted Beithir’s neck lightly, and a small jet of flame escaped her mouth. Here, above the clouds, I was soaking wet, and even through my armor and underlayers I could feel the chill setting into my fingers... but it was beautiful, and I spent a good few moments gazing up at the stars before I let out a whoop and pressed my knees into her sides again. “Alright girl, give me some speed.”

She didn’t need the encouragement. She started to rapidly beat her wings, angling her body down slightly as she gained speed in the air. Then, with a brief twist of the reins, she snapped them against her size, diving down through the clouds and slamming me back against the saddle. The helmet shifted, pressed against my face as I held onto the reins for dear life. With the construction of the saddle, I was in no actual danger of falling out from this maneuver, but as Beithir started adding rolls and loops into her flight without my supervision, it didn’t help the fact that I was currently feeling mightily close to god.

The beast was happy to dance through the clouds, flames spewing out of her mouth as she twisted and turned. We burst through the bottom of them like an erupting beast from the dirt, water stinging my eyes as we tore through the night air. I was laughing, a true, joyful sound that could barely be heard over the rushing winds as we flew over the water. Dover was a good ways behind us now, and I pulled at the reins to slow Beithir down. The faint moonlight over the channel’s waters was beautiful, and the faint orange light off in the distance in the water caught my eyes.

…

That was a ship on fire.