Sweat dripped from my chin, my arms throbbing.

“When the concept of this room was first created, we called it Initiating Room - Iron Class. Quite fancy, right? Almost unnecessary, even.”

Clenching my jaw and tightening my grip on the reins, I forced the metal creature to dodge the sides. Two projectiles rushed at me, one getting so close I felt it brush my clothes—felt it tear the fabric.

“However, after a couple of trials, I heard our students referring to this room as something else. Want to take any guesses?”

There was no way for me to reply and the man knew that. I could see it from the amusement in his eye to the way he grinned at me with mockery.

“Iron Training Cell. Honestly, I prefer the name given by my dear students—way more fitting. I’m sure you also agree.”

Even though the room was astonishingly spacious, both in height and length, by each passing second I felt more claustrophobic—as if it truly lacked space.

And that was because, even with enough room to do maneuvers with the metal dragon, the fact I couldn’t fly away from that place or just go out of the projectiles range was excruciating. I was about to go insane.

Ergos had proved itself to me when I saw the lanes for the admission race. The underwater cave, the lightning and raging storm, the dense woods. Yet to think they could simulate a controlled environment in one single room, even if in a simplistic way…

It was almost terrifying.

Made me wonder what more could they do.

There was a barrier isolating the professor, giving him only a small square of space—enough for him to sit in the chair and spread his legs.

The rest of the room was being dominated by an artificial yet ferocious wind, with three turrets shooting all kinds of projectiles. Fire, venom, lightning, stronger bursts of wind, whatever could impact the flight was being thrown at me.

And the turrets were fast.

Not as fast as real dragons, but fast enough to make me miss my training with Emrys—desperately.

“I’m getting bored here. Is this really all you’ve got? We can surely pick up the pace if that’s not the case, right?” Before I could even reply, Belenus pulled another lever behind him.

Each turret began shooting twice in a row, in different directions.

And their speed, at least, tripled.

I clenched my teeth, sweat running down my eyes, making them burn. Whenever I blinked, I had to rely on my memory and on the sounds surrounding me to make sure I would be able to dodge on time.

How long had I been here? Even if deep down I knew it hadn’t been ten minutes, it felt like hours. Hours of pulling and pushing the reins and feeling the cold metal beast move exactly as I instructed. Or better saying, exactly as it had been instructed.

More than once, the fake dragon moved differently from what I wanted. It didn’t take long for me to realize the real problem was me, and not the metal creature. That thing, whatever it was, had guidelines. Dive downwards when the ride does this, fly higher when they do that. All the maneuvers every rider should know.

Things I didn’t.

Suddenly, one of the turrets dropped a metallic sphere to the ground. It rolled toward the center of the room, hastily, and the moment I heard the explosion the entire room was covered by a pure, blinding light.

From memory, I knew more or less where the next shots were going. The possible safe spots I could instruct the dragon to fly to. And I tried.

I really did.

But the fake iron dragon did not understand me.

I felt an electric current passing through the dragon almost a second before I was blown away by a burst of wind, a fire projectile hitting me in my right leg as I spun in the air.

All air left my lungs as I crushed against the wall, adjusting my body only enough so I would fall with my shoulders instead of my face.

My ears began to ring, a new pressure in my head as the sounds around me became muffled. Professor Belenus pulled down all the levers, deactivating the turrets, the wind, and the dragon. Through all the pain, I could see his lips moving, yet no words.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

As my vision darkened, the ringing and the pressure getting worse, all I could see before blacking out was the heavy double doors opening—a new light pouring into the room.

And how, even from afar, I could smell a sweet fragrance. One that was familiar enough to make my stomach clench.

----------------------------------------

There were three main things attacking my senses before I could open my eyes.

First, there was the throbbing pain in my head, leg, and shoulder—a pain that was the main contributor to bringing me back to a conscious state.

Then, there was the desperate need for water, my throat drier than sand.

Finally, the third thing was the pungent, intense, and sweet scent impregnating every inch of the place.

Even before I opened my eyes, the thing bothering me the most was not the pain in my body or the dryness in my throat. And when I met that gaze, as my mind came to acknowledge the person I was seeing in front of me, I had a hard time figuring out if I was feeling sick because of that scent—

Or the woman.

“For a first-year, you are quite brave to get on Professor Bel’s bad side—I never saw anyone going to the Training Cell so early in the term. How are you feeling?”

She was standing a few meters away, her hands searching for something in the drawers.

Bile rose from my stomach, burning its way to my mouth. I clenched my fists, swallowing and feeling its acid again as my heart raced against my chest.

The woman glanced my way when there was no response, her expression unchanging.

“From my understanding, you did not hurt your head. The physician cleaned and covered your bruises, but I was told you could take some medication if you were in too much pain.”

A quick glance around the room confirmed we were, at that moment, alone. The infirmary was as spotless as it could possibly be, the curtains open as the rays of light poured through the window. I noticed with annoyance how the sunlight reflected in the woman’s silver hair, highlighting even more her bright red locks.

I knew—I knew—we were going to meet at some point. Even when I was a nobody, a reinforcement class student from the underground, at some point we were going to cross ways.

Because that woman was far too impressive and talented to not be displayed as one of Ergos’ most precious treasures.

“I’m fine.” My words almost made me choke from how dry and rash they were, my voice scratching my throat as if it wanted to make me bleed. And me needing water was only part of the reason.

“There’s no need to pretend, if you’re not. Many first-years neglect their injuries because they don’t wish to be seen in a poor light, yet afterward they are forced to—”

“I said I’m fine.”

Poison and anger dripped from my voice, drenching every letter until each word carried its own tune of hatred and fury.

Because she was there.

The person who stripped me of my power.

The woman who made me lose everything I had in my possession.

The one who took away my freedom.

Alantra Harris.

She glanced my way again, yet if she was offended by my tone she didn’t show.

“‘Sing to me your sweetest tunes, and I shall not search for its lies’…” Alantra mumbled, almost as if to herself, finally taking a thermometer and a small package of herbs from the drawer. “You know your body best, so I won’t insist.”

She walked towards me, placing the thermometer and package on top of the nightstand. Then she glanced at the clock on top of the door, checking her black crystal right after.

At that moment, her scent was strong enough to replace all the air in my lungs and choke me. A scent I could almost name, yet one that kept escaping me.

“Make sure to check your temperature before leaving, and take the herbs with you, just in case. The physician already went home for the day. When you are done here, Professor Bel wants you to go see him in the Professors’ Lounge. I strongly suggest you do as he instructed, if you want to remain here.”

Worse than having to face her that close, to have her look straight into my eyes without the minimum knowledge of what she had done to me—of who I really was…

It was the genuine care I sensed from her words. Her gaze. Even if her voice remained impassive, I knew there was no irony or malice.

And that was sickening.

Alantra Harris turned away, making her way to the door.

“Wait!” I flinched, the word hurting my throat more than I wished.

The woman looked back, the sweet and intoxicating fragrance still lingering in the air.

I cleared my throat, my hands gripping the sheets.

Gripping tighter and tighter.

“My name is Vex. And I will become Ergos’ number one. No matter what.”

It was almost childish—an immature war declaration to someone who likely did not even care. Someone who did not even consider me as an intrusive thought, much less a threat. Still, the words poured from my mouth almost on their own, as if they needed to be heard.

As if that pathetic and childish war declaration was Jackal’s way of saying he would not be forgotten.

That he was still, very much, a part of me. A part that ached to be heard and avenged.

Alantra Harris did not laugh. She did not look away annoyed, sighed, cursed, or mocked my ridiculous statement. In the short seconds that passed between us, the silence stretching until it could no longer be tolerated, Alantra’s eyes met mine steadfast.

And even if I wished to hear the thorns and poisons in her voice, I was left with an honesty that matched the sweetness and intensity of her scent.

“I will be waiting.”

When I was finally alone in the room, I stood up as fast as my body allowed. Even if my leg screamed and my head throbbed, making the room spin and my stomach churn, I rushed to open the window and gasp for air. To be freed from that scent.

I bit my lip, the metallic taste of blood spreading in my mouth while hot tears ran down my face. Tears that carried my shame and frustration.

For Alantra Harris, one of the best dragon riders in our generation, had accepted my silly declaration.

Right after I failed to ride a fake dragon made for children.