Somehow, I wished others would stop sending me their blessings and well wishes. Because I had no need for jinxes, or words to remind me exactly what was at stake.
I didn’t even have to see who the sender was. I only prayed Angus was joking about watching from the crowd.
For most academies, only students, relatives, and close friends would watch the admission exam. However, Ergos was not “most academies”.
It was the very best among them.
Journalists, nobles, authorities’ officials—all eyes would be set on the amateur riders who could soon become the next Silver Wings of the generation. Even then, only very special guests could attend the admission exam.
Yet it didn’t change the fact there would be hundreds of people watching me ride Styx.
My stomach rumbled, my nerves getting the best of me.
There were far too many people.
In the main stadium, all applicants were receiving the instructions and overview of the exam through one single silver orb floating above our heads.
I could only wonder how much an orb that size cost when liquid silver was not easy to come by—especially silver infused with mana for broadcasting.
First, we would have a writing section—which I had no issues with whatsoever. I knew the theory, and I knew the sport. I could tell the name of every maneuver, and describe every gear they wanted, even go over all the rules and limitations.
My worries began with the second part, the practical race.
There would be twenty judges who would evaluate the applicants based on three principles; overall performance, strategy, and control.
The last seven thousand riders to cross the finish line would be disqualified immediately. So I should at least aim to be among the first two thousand.
When they finished explaining the rules, the silver orb shook slightly as it changed the displayed image. In a different room, a man sat in a highchair with hands clasped together.
A man I recognized, quite well.
“It is with immense pleasure that I welcome you all to Ergos' 150th entrance exam.”
In the giant silver orb above the stadium, Ergos’ director spoke with his voice echoing through wood stereos spread throughout the arena.
He was a man with sharp eyes and even sharper features, his round glasses doing nothing to hide the vibrancy and intensity of his green eyes. Though he already had some white hair, the man appeared young.
Or younger than he was, at least.
“Though Ergos has been standing for more than four centuries, it took some time for the world to recognize the prestige and worth of dragons, and for our council to recognize that in order for our academy to grow we also had to embrace those changes.”
The way he was dressed in black leather and gloves, a brooch with Ergos’ coat-of-arms shining against the light, made me listen closely to his words. When I passed the exam I would become a student in his academy, be under his surveillance.
Hemdal Von Tosell.
“Yet when Ergos chose to open our door and change our curriculum, we did so with one goal in mind: to reach for greatness. To be not one among many, but the one to set the example. At Ergos, we provide the best so we can receive in kind. You chose us for you know who we are and what we offer, and now it is our time to choose the best among you.”
The man leaned against the chair, the faintest of smiles touching his lips.
“If you want Ergos, prove to us your worth. Show us how high you can fly, and we will move the sky for you. Wish you a great exam.”
The director disappeared, leaving the silver orb floating in midair with nothing to show.
Then, not even ten seconds later, applicants were shown their rooms where the written exam would take place. We were separated by batches, with twenty-five batches total.
Mine was batch 19.
I didn’t try to look for Emrys amidst the crowd, not when there were nearly ten thousand people leaving the stadium and going to their specific rooms.
As I left through Batch 19's designated door, I found myself in a long corridor with many rooms, on both sides. However, only four doors were currently open.
There was a list stuck on the wall beside each door, and if my guess was correct those lists informed who should go to each room. I found the list with my name, choosing a seat in the already full classroom.
As I looked around, it was hard not to be impressed with the space. The wooden floor, as well as the desks and corners, were sparkling clean. For someone who had lived the past decade in the underground, this room was far too bright and far too polished.
The blackboard showed a summary of the instructions we had been given earlier, the academy’s instructor waiting in his seat for everyone to arrive. There was a black crystal on top of the instructor’s desk, the timer still frozen.
I avoided looking at the others, my mind stuck on the race. As the written exam took place, the instructors would examine the dragons to make sure they were all fit to compete, and that no applicant had lied during the registration.
Funny enough, I kept thinking about Emrys’ dragon—Blue hated it when strangers touched him.
A few of my guys had lost a few fingers because of the wingless dragon, and the fingers the dragon ate were impossible to recover. I did pay for their treatments, yet in the end, it was decided only Emrys would tend to Blue.
...I hoped Emrys had taught him to behave, at least.
Styx seemed used enough to these procedures, so I was mostly calm about him. Yet whenever I thought about the gates opening, and the race starting, I could feel my heart racing against my chest.
Make it to the first two thousand, Vex…you can do it.
Just beat eight thousand riders more experienced than you.
“We will begin the exam now. You will have two hours.”
Two hours for 250 questions was not much, for most people.
The wooden desks opened a compartment, revealing the exam inside, with a quill and ink. I answered the questions with no difficulties, occasionally one or two would make me waste a bit more time.
However, there was one question that made me freeze, the ink dripping from the quill and into the parchment as I found myself struggling.
Why.
Why I had to leave my home like an unwanted pest, why every penny I ever won was taken away from me, why I was stripped down from my position, why the Jackal was being hunted down like a criminal.
Why I had to spend millions to buy a dragon, why I had to spend the last months training like an cursed stray dog, why I had to endure all that pain and all that struggle just so I could guarantee a fighting chance.
Why did I want to become a rider.
Because I have nothing else left.
Because she took everything away from me.
The quill broke in my hand, bringing me back to the present. Focus, Vex. One step at a time.
I finished the exam with almost forty minutes to spare. Yet even after I left the room and went back to the stadium, I could not rid myself of that bitterness.
That taste of failure and rage.
----------------------------------------
“Did they treat you well?”
There was no reply.
“Did you treat them well?”
Styx rolled his eyes and snorted. I suppressed a smile, my eyes making a brief scan of the other applicants.
As I presumed, most riders had chosen two-legged dragons. They were not only easier to ride but, in most cases, they were the most balanced for novices.
When someone was still learning the basics of races, managing and navigating a dragon’s powers and attributes was no easy task. Especially when the dragon was young and more immature.
Styx was an experienced racer, and still, I could barely keep up with him whenever he used air to boost up his speed. And it was precisely because Styx knew what he was doing that the dragon was able to catch me whenever I dropped out of the saddle.
For dragons that possessed more than one attribute, or a power too strong, it could be overwhelming for their riders, especially when it came to four-legged dragons.
Yet wingless dragons like Blue, they were challenging for other reasons.
They had too much mobility and speed. Unless the rider knew how to maneuver and maintain their balance extremely well, they could fall to their death without a shred of inconvenience.
That’s the reason why Emrys quickly became the Jackal’s ace. The boy had everything a ringleader searched for in a rider; instincts, keen senses, good synergy with their mount, great technique.
It was also why Ergos wasted no time to snatch him away from me.
“Wait, I think he is a rider. The dragon has an application number.”
“Shit, the guy really brought a fossil to compete.”
The two applicants who were talking behind our backs were quick to shut up the moment Styx glared at them. I glanced behind my shoulder, giving a brief analysis of their mounts.
Both were two-legged dragons, one yellow and the other green. Their bodies lacked strength overall, both being thinner than average. This could either mean their riders didn’t feed them properly, or they were not under the best regimen for their type.
They were mediocre dragons, at their best.
As I adjusted Styx’s saddle, I spoke in a low voice. “You should ignore those people. If you are too easy to tease, it becomes more amusing to them.”
The dragon did not reply, yet I saw his tail moving left and right, at a slow pace. Styx usually did that when he was thinking hard about something.
Or when he wanted to pounce on me just to see me eat dirt on the ground.
Suddenly there were shouts and grunts. I couldn’t see what was happening, too many dragons and people surrounding me.
Yet the commotion kept escalating, bringing angry shouts from humans and dragons alike. Before I could ask or do anything, Styx let out a cry, turning abruptly to the side.
That’s when I saw—
“Oh no, no you won’t. Drop it. I said, drop it!”
A young woman mounted on a four-legged dragon. A dragon that, although half the size of Styx, had bitten his tail and was not letting go.
Yet what made me freeze in my spot was not the woman who could not control her mount, nor the possibility of Styx doing something that would get us disqualified.
It was the woman’s dragon.
It was way smaller than the others from his race, and it looked young. Terribly so. But more important than all that, was the fact that it was a four-legged dragon.
A four-legged dragon—
Without any wings.