My gaze stayed transfixed on the arm, motionless and without any trace of feeling beyond a dull throb at my shoulder. I couldn’t move it, not that I would even try at this point; the last time I did I nearly collapsed from the pain. Since then I’ve gotten a rather lovely amount of likely dangerous medication that has reduced the terrible screaming pain to something more akin to merely sleeping on your shoulder. Of course, that’s a different problem, as the moonlight comes in through the window of my bedroom I wasn’t quite sure how I was meant to sleep on it either. The chair perhaps? Maybe the only option.

The arm was held firm against my stomach via tight straps meant to keep me from moving the shoulder. A futile gesture, because I simply couldn’t. It’s shattered, ruined, it won’t heal. I had grown up around enough farmland to know the many ways one can destroy an arm or a leg, and this was roughly the equivalent to being walloped by a horse fully angry. Even if I did ever manage to get movement in it again, which was likely at least to some small extent, I would never have the strength I needed in it ever again. Some movement, but not enough. I glanced at the other arm, lifting it above my head and swinging it down before yanking back. The long piece of wood I would normally be holding was gone, but even then I could tell the balance wasn’t there; a child could swing a hoe better than this.

I couldn’t work a hoe with one hand, I doubted anyone could. Or turn hay, or manage coos, or milk them any faster than half-speed, or rebuild a barn. About the only thing I could do easily was toss seed, and that wouldn’t get me very far. Managing a farm alone, which had never been an easy task, just became impossible. All because I was a hasty fool that tried to do more than I could, hell, more than I was meant for. And now I’ve managed to quite likely ruin my life along with the arm, as I have no idea how to ride a wyvern one-handed either.

I let out a sigh, shaking my head slowly as I pushed myself up from the sitting position on the bed. It was odd moving without an arm, a sense of balance is lost that one doesn’t realize they were using. If I was to compare it to something… it would be like someone was missing an arm. I made my way around the recliner and over to the window, looking out over the school grounds illuminated by the midnight moon. The green grass in the light looks nearly blue, a far lighter shade in comparison to the black surf of the channel in the distance. It was still the same day, scarcely more half-a-day passed since I destroyed my shoulder, and there was little reason to stay in London. The next event was still a month away, something apparently to do with having to build a new field after the one they used previously got heavily damaged by a beast during the spring season.

I placed the good working hand against the glass, my reflection staring back at me… I needed a shave. A flash of light illuminated a speck of the water briefly, and I found myself watching the ship. The light attached to it danced in the waves for a good long time, however long I couldn’t say, but it was approaching the docks of Dover itself as the door opened behind me. A familiar figure appeared in the reflection, and I frowned slightly at her presence.

“Normally people knock.” I said, turning back to look at the woman.

She was dressed in her usual nightwear; a silver and blue dress that clashed with her hair. It did nearly glow in the light of the moon though, so I didn’t fault her choice regardless, not that a Scottish lowland farmer has much in the way of opinion about fashion, to begin with.

“I own the room, and the door, and the clothes you are wearing. I can do what I like.” Morrigan replied, a cautious humor to her voice, like she was afraid of offending me. Not that she could, wasn’t her fault what happened today and there was nothing to gain by blaming others for my own stupid mistakes.

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“Ah never got the story of that. How you came to run this school.” I said, turning around to face the woman as she closed the door behind her. I didn’t particularly care either, but I was in no hurry to talk about what she likely came in here to discuss.

Morrigan came to a stop a few feet in front of me, and her gaze went past me out the window. “You never cared before, why now?”

“Ah want to distract myself from the inevitable. And ya have been… unnaturally generous.” I admitted.

“Kind of you to say so,” Morrigan replied, a small smile coming onto her face. “Does that mean you will be less of an ass?”

I matched her smile. “No promises. But regardless, what stake do you have in this anyway? Ah half expect ya to be sendin’ me back north tomorrow.”

Morrigan let out a breath, green eyes looking out over the moonlit fields out the window before she turned them onto me. “It took you long enough to ask.”

I shrugged with one shoulder, gesturing to the cast with my working hand. “Not much reason not to be curious. Thought ah wouldn’t look ah gift horse in the mouth before. Frankly, not sure much ah care now.”

Morrigan hummed, her gaze moving about the room. It wasn’t much changed since I moved in. Barring a now fuller closet and the mattress placed back onto the bed… which would be on the floor later, but I didn’t feel so far like it was worth figuring out how to move the heavy thing one-handed. “I’ve been pushing for the rights of wyverns for quite some time. Bastards like Welbrook abuse them, and they are half smarter than most people I tend to meet.”

“Aye, at this point ah’m fairly sure Beithir is smart enough to talk,” I replied. Peering out the window towards the stable the wyvern was currently sleeping in. She almost seemed to know something was wrong, as the moment she saw me again she damn near barreled over the handlers trying to get to me. “just wise enough not to.”

“Something like that. Yes.” Morrigan said. “I saw a wyvern being loaded into a cage in London several months ago. But she looked like she had been chained down for some time before that. It was being set in the colosseum for wyvern brawls when I… broke in and freed her.”

I blinked, slowly. Then I asked the question I felt I already knew the answer to. “Did she fly off wildly to the north afterwards? Roarin’ and spewing fire the entire way?”

“It did, yes.” Morrigan replied. Her gaze turning away towards the wall.

I didn’t say anything, at least, not for a little while. I just sort of laid sideways against the wall on the good shoulder and looked back over the bed. Morrigan stared at me but said nothing as I thought about what she said. Then I simply just let out a breath and turned my head back to her. “Nothin’ to be done about it.”

Morrigan gave me a shocked look, and I shrugged and explained. “The beast was scared, and if ah saw Beithir in the same position as ah know ‘er now ah’d probably do the same.” I shook my head, looking back towards the stables through the window. “Ah want to be mad ‘bout it, damn mad. But Beithir didn’t deserve what that git did to ‘er, and ya helped me out already by givin’ me the chance.” Then I gestured to the arm again. “But ah’m fairly sure ah can’t get back at Wellbrook with a shattered arm, let alone get back to farmin’ either. Unless ya’ve got a plan in that Irish brain of yours.”

Morrigan lets out a thoughtful hum. Eyes landing on my arm as she does so. “You should focus on speed instead of control if you are to fly with one arm.”

“Ah think Beithir is plenty fast already.” I replied.

Morrigan grins. “I think there are plenty of tricks I could teach you to make her go faster. If you are still interested of course.”

“Ah don’t have much of a choice,” I started to say. Only to get a finger pressed against my lips. I glanced down, to find Morrigan’s pointer finger shushing me.

“Get some rest Arthur, we start in the morning. I want no complaining.” She pulled the finger back a moment later, still grinning before she turned on the spot and left the room.

I stared after her, not finding much to say as the door clicked shut behind her. I didn’t have much choice did I? It was riding the wyvern or nothing at this point, but at the very least… I had more to learn.

With a sigh, I turned back towards the bed. I couldn’t help but wonder.

What was I hoping to get from this?