The bell rang again, now from below us and further away. This time it continued for longer and sounded considerably more urgent.

“Something to worry about?” I asked Assistant Altengart.

He shook his head. “It’s a warning about approaching dragons, but they’re expected. The other candidates for the bonding are due.”

“Everyone!” said Academy Leader Silver. He had been scrupulously silent since we had arrived in the old section. Now he seemed intent on making up for it by being twice as energetic. “If we could make our way back to the main block.”

I was concerned that we would have to tackle the hill in the opposite direction, but he moved instead to a small building on the far corner. The door opened to reveal it was actually a spiral staircase leading down. Some two storeys of dizziness later, we exited through another door at the bottom of the stairs. It was somewhat cruder that a room, but less than a natural cave, and I blinked as I came out into the sunlight. I – we all – were confronted with bridge. A very wide bridge, spanning from side to side almost as much as it did across the gap, true. But a bridge over a gap so deep I could not even see the bottom of, between the carved cave we had emerged from and the buildings on the other side. A bridge with absolutely no guardrails of any description.

“It’s our take-off and landing platform for dragons,” explained Academy Leader Silver proudly. “They can safely fall some distance before needing to recover altitude when leaving, and should they try to land at the wrong angle, there is plenty of space that they can drop behind the platform and come around for another attempt. Magnificent, isn’t it?”

For a very particular definition of the word ‘magnificent’, perhaps. This dragon rider profession was just getting better and better. Dragons could use all this space and still fail.

“Raise the flag!” called Academy Leader Silver to a small tower on the opposite side.

The tower was also the home of the bell we had been hearing, and I could finally orientate myself. We had traced a large circle and were almost back to where we had begun. A green flag rose from the tower, and Academy Leader Silver and Assistant Oxenden began walking instantly, like busy pedestrians at a too-short traffic light.

> Imagine a heavily trafficked thoroughfare where people are only permitted to cross during predetermined windows of time. This was apparently an attempt to improve the safety of those on foot.

I realised then that the ‘old-section’ staff, Academy Leader Darkwater and Assistant Altengart, had remained behind at the top of the stairs and it was just us left. Branneth and I started to follow like ducklings. Lilianna came to a halt instead. I offered my arm and suggested, “Close your eyes?”

She nodded. Step by step we crossed the wooden platform, walking straight through the centre, her hand a death grip on my wrist. We had meters of clearance on either side, and rationally there was no possible way we could have been any danger. But a gust of wind, barely enough to ruffle my hair, was enough for my heart to stutter. Never mind the dragons. The architecture was going to kill me before we even got that far. Once we were across, I continued leading her until we were under the cover of the building.

“We’re over,” I said quietly. “There’s a wall to your right. Avoid looking left.”

She reached out to the wall before opening her eyes. She did glance left for a second before determinedly looking ahead. I had done what was necessary to maintain my reputation as a caring person.

> We are indeed all very convinced that His Devotion, Saint Percival the Investigator, performed this act – that he took care to hide from everyone else, that no-one else even noticed the need for – purely to maintain his reputation.

I turned with the others to stare out over the view. The green flag went down and was replaced with a red flag. Others started pointing, and after some moments I could see it myself. Six dragons, flying in a V formation. Even at that distance, it was impressive. Their wings were huge when fully outstretched, but my mind still told me I was seeing an impossibility. The bodies of the creatures were far too heavy for them to have stayed in the air by physics alone. I felt an involuntary revulsion – or perhaps it was more accurately described as visceral horror. These things were no part of the natural world, and all my instincts were screaming at me that something was wrong. I maintained a calm but fascinated expression, of course. I was no beginner that would give away my true feelings that easily. Branneth, it must be said, did take a step back.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

Some time after that, another oddity suddenly explained itself. The human riders weren’t riding behind the dragon’s necks, like I had assumed. They were strapped below the dragon’s chests. That did, on balance, make more sense. Two riders had additional bags to either side, while four had teenagers strapped in turn to the riders. I had just about adjusted to the scale when they were ready to land. They hit the platform in pairs, before pulling to the side for the next two to land. Contrary to Academy Leader Silver’s unflattering words, they all landed exactly to mark, without any indication that they couldn’t have done the job just as well on a landing site a fraction of the size. But if that was a skill issue, then I might still be on the wrong side of the safety spectrum.

The passengers and the bags were onloaded with practiced speed. The dragons and riders, again in pairs, dropped off the bridge, dipping five meters or so before regaining their height and disappearing again. The red flag went down and was replaced by crossed black.

“What do the flags indicate?” I asked Assistant Oxenden.

“Green is people crossing,” he said, “Red is dragons landing. No flag means it’s available for either. Black crossed means it’s reserved. The dragons will be back with family members and more supplies shortly. They’re being ferried up from the bottom of the mountain.”

“Welcome, students!” said Academy Leader Silver. “You are the fortunate candidates to bond with dragons alongside our heroes. So let us begin with our first step in this sacred process. Please all, come forward and declare yourself with a Registration of Intent!”

It took me a little while to interpret that, but to my disappointment it did not turn out to be some challenge I could ‘unfortunately’ fail. It was just a sign-up sheet. The heroes were indicated to go first.

“I’ll need to do the writing for you,” said Assistant Oxenden. “The anti-fraud inscriptions interfere with the magic that automatically translates the words of heroes.”

That was interesting. I had assumed the magic doing the translating was active on my brain directly. That suggested it acted on the world around me.

“So,” I said, “If I wrote it, it would read like gibberish?”

“Not immediately,” said Assistant Oxenden. “But over time, yes. The words would slide back into your original alphabet. Reactive magic tends to work slower than active magic, you see.”

I wondered what other assumptions I’d made that were incorrect. That might be useful information to know. “Is there something I can read to familiarise myself with magic as it is used in this world?”

“Certainly,” said Assistant Oxenden. “I’ll arrange a staff member to provide an introduction as soon as possible, and they can bring some works that will be helpful.”

That was a bit more assistance than I had expected. Or even than I had wanted. “You don’t need to go to that extent. I’m sure I—”

“No, not at all,” he said. “This is exactly what we should be doing for our heroes. In fact, we should have thought about it before.”

Branneth unsubtly moved forward to push me aside and go first. He was more than welcome to the position, so I let the matter go. The Registration of Intent turned out to be even more symbolic for the heroes than the others, as most of the sections were ‘not applicable’. Within a very short period of time, it was the turn of the teenagers. The taller of the two girls filled in her form quickly and without any hesitation. When she started to put down the pen, the other girl stopped her.

“You can fill it in for me as well,” she said.

I wondered if she thought the fact that we had been given assistance had been some sort of indication of status. I suppose it would have been a fair assumption to make.

“I’m not your servant, Bethany,” replied the girl.

I glanced down at her registration form to get her name – Shanelly Oakswell. Shanelly must have decided it wasn’t worth the argument and just turned to the next form to comply. She wrote down half of the sheet without any input whatsoever, before Bethany provided a few details. They knew each other well, it seemed. Or at least, Shanelly knew Bethany. The two boys came up last, each filling it in for themselves.

Academy Leader Silver started a rousing speech about our wonderous path to becoming dragon riders, before being interrupted by a messenger jogging out from the building. The Academy Leader frowned, but dutifully read from the paper. “I’ve just been told there is a correction to the itinerary. The chapel hasn’t yet recovered sufficient grace to hold the Purification Ceremony. We will instead perform that after supper.”

I hadn’t seen any itinerary. Was I meant to have? I thought back through the day. No, they definitely hadn’t provided one. Who knew how many opportunities I’d have to disrupt some key step in the process.

“Heroes are rightfully expensive,” said Branneth with self-importance.

“Yes,” agreed Lilianna. “Luckily, since we’re rookies, the price wouldn’t have been too excessive.”

Her expression was so innocent that even I couldn’t tell whether she was making a point. Either way, it was amusing to see Branneth to deflate as quickly as he had inflated.

“We will take escort you now to your rooms, and you can rest until supper,” said Academy Leader Silver.

Thank the gods for small mercies, supposed, and now I had something to say if we were required to pray. I was more than ready to hide myself under the covers and panic for a few hours.

Memo to self: Track down that itinerary.