"This is ridiculous."

Watching the heckler Effran dragging his feet through the grass as he led his tan keet toward the four-person group, Leslyn nodded in tired agreement with Erin's peevish comment. Arlis had a somewhat skittish look on his face, clearly remembering the unpleasant run-in with Effran and his busybody father.

As he neared them, the heckler's disappointed scowl turned into a grin and his walk to a swagger when he realized the opportunity for further harassment that he’d just been awarded. "My father will be overjoyed when he hears that I've finally screwed up badly enough to be allowed to join the Renegades," he said, lifting his chin in a supercilious smirk at Kaleit.

"For the last time, Effran," Kaleit said, "drop the name."

As if that will stop the problem, Leslyn thought. It wasn't just the heckler doing it, though he was by far the most vocal.

The four “Renegades,” as they were now actively known around the Aerie, didn't all associate by choice and certainly weren't friends where Kaleit was concerned, for all it mattered. Beyond their infamous "crime" of releasing Wrath and the other orphaned griffins during the fight with the wyverns, their reputation as an established cadre was further exacerbated by spreading awareness of their socially-notable guardians. It didn’t help that they were constantly being singled out in public by said guardians, as they were once again just a moment ago when they were placed into the same training group together.

In light of that, they were seen as a single unit: a lesser imitation of Koben and his contemporaries, though unlike Nilvar’s generally popular leaders, some members of the Renegades were manifestly more well-thought-of than others. The end result was that their little quartet was partially seen as an exclusive circle to be envied, and partially seen as a luckless joke. Effran was obviously one who viewed them as the latter.

Erin, in Leslyn's opinion, was lucky to be barely viewed at all. There were a few quiet whispers about the fact that she was the only female in the group, but for most observers, she'd done nothing that really stood out and was mostly included by association.

"What if I don't drop it?" Effran snipped about the group's unenviable nickname. "You gonna set Maneater Zabor on me?" He gestured rudely at the young black griffin, who hissed and flattened his ears.

Patiently, Kaleit put his hands on his hips and shrugged. "I might, just to shut you up."

"Aeriemaster, Aeriemaster! Captain Kaleit's threatening me!" the heckler whined in a loud, mocking tone. To really ham it up, he ducked and shivered in a pantomime of terror behind his arms, as if Kaleit had actually raised a fist at him. It got him a few laughs and a jeer or two, which he happily basked in.

Aeriemaster Gunu glanced his way, but ultimately ignored him once he’d correctly assessed the mocker’s intent.

Contrary to Effran’s loudmouthed opinion of the youth, Kaleit was, in fact, quite popular since he’d stepped up to lead the recruits. Even now, senior riders were watching him with hawk-like interest, waiting to see how he and Zabor would perform. It would have taken the fingers on more than one hand to count the number of younger female riders who also watched him in a similar manner, but for very different reasons. He cut quite the dashing figure, what with his tall, masculine frame, sun-darkened olive skin, and black hair.

Beside him, Arlis also had many invested watchers. He was the son of General Xavara, cousin of Prince Koben, and nephew of King Dufan, lauded for his impressive “griffin sense.” It was rumored that he could tell what any griffin was thinking, just by looking into its eyes. There were about equal bets that he’d take over for his mother someday, or else Gunu would tap him to apprentice as future Aeriemaster. Though the boy was only seventeen, he also stood quite tall, with similarly dark hair and an even broader frame than Kaleit’s.

Leslyn wasn’t one to envy another man over something like that, but, standing in their shadows, he couldn’t help but feel suddenly very aware of his own small size and relatively pale peach skin and brown hair, like a fair-haired lion shunned by a pride with large, dark-maned lions in the lead. In this case, though, it wasn’t his fairness that caused him to be shunned.

“Now that you’ve all got your groups,” General Xavara’s voice rang out, “choose your captain and figure out your starting formation positions.”

“Out of the way, foreigner.” Effran shouldered Leslyn aside as he and his tan went to take point position for the group. He very nearly missed kicking Valiant as he went by, as well as coming close to accosting Erin’s blue Phoebe, who managed to flick her tufted tail out of the way just in time to avoid getting it stepped on.

“Jerk,” Erin muttered under her breath, bending to comfort her startled griffin. She noticed Kaleit looking askance at her, and glared at him. “Yeah, no need to be jealous. You’re still Number One Jerk.”

That got her a pleased, yet deeply contemptuous smile, which then slid over to focus on Leslyn. “You’ll take the rear, I think,” Kaleit said, glancing down at Valiant. “That wouldn’t be much use in a forward position, even if it somehow miraculously passed basic.”

“He,” Leslyn said, primly turning up his nose. “What happened, Kaleit? I distinctly remember you claiming to be an expert at determining griffin sexes.”

“Excuse me,” Effran interjected, “but Disa and I are the ones at point, therefore I am the leader. You’ll be taking rear with your biter, Kaleit.”

“You’re the one who referred to me as ‘Captain,’” the tall youth sneered. “That means you’re the ones going in the back.”

“For crying out loud, I’ll take the rear,” Erin said, eyes practically rolling back into her head. “You boys can have fun playing skylords. Come on, Fee.” Cupping the back of her blue griffin’s head, she guided Phoebe to the rear of their nonexistent formation. “And if we’re taking a vote, I vote for Arlis. I’d rather listen to him than either of you two jerks.”

“You can count two votes for him,” Leslyn said, adding his own. “There. Arlis wins.”

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

Bent with one hand on red Larx’s neck, Arlis looked back and forth between the two who’d voted for him. “I don’t want to be captain. Can’t you do it, Leslyn?”

Leslyn turned an awkward side-eyed look on Valiant, who met his gaze with an uncomprehending blink. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Arlis, but captaincy is not going to be a career option for me. Val’s too small to last long enough in a fight, even if it does turn out that we can fly together.”

Yes, it still hurt to think about, and more to admit it out loud. At least he had Koben’s ongoing assurance that he could continue to hone his squiring skills until he could finally get his name on the city’s citizen ledger.

“Fine. I vote for Erin, then.”

“No thanks.” Erin crossed her arms. “Come on, Arlie. Remember what we talked about the other day? You can do this.”

Hearing her use a friendly nickname for the boy stung a little. Leslyn had always been quite formal when it came to any sort of relationship, even a familial one, so it had meant a great deal to him when he offered up his brother’s pet name “Leslie” for Erin to use. That was more than a month ago now, and she’d still yet to use it.

Arlis’ lower lip was jutting as he and the girl locked eyes. His brows furrowed as hers raised meaningfully, and slowly, his expression hardened. “You know what? I can do it. Larx and I can do this.”

With that, he stepped forward with his griffin, taking the place of a frowning Effran. Clearly, the heckler hadn’t expected to be challenged by the king’s mild-mannered nephew and wasn’t all that willing to fight back.

“Kaleit, you take the right wingpoint and move to center.” Arlis had turned to face them, and was directing with a pointing finger. “Erin, you and Phoebe take center and move to the right as we go. Effran, you’ll start in the back, but move out to the left point when we shift. Leslyn, sorry, but everyone’s right." He shrugged helplessly. "If this was a full formation, Valiant would be safest in the back, in case he gets caught in a backdraft. That way, he'd have plenty of time to reorient without crashing into anyone. You can take the other wingpoint for now, and then shift back to take the rear point of the diamond.”

Funny, how differently it was framed when Arlis gave the same exact assignment. Leslyn nodded and patted his thigh, prompting Val to follow him to their place on the left.

They placed themselves as instructed in a modified wedge where three stood behind the captain and only one took the rear. It was literally the same form they would ultimately take when they shifted, but it was perfect for learning the most basic maneuvers that were needed to go from wedge to diamond, with the two wingpoints moving back around the outside and the current center and rear moving up and outward to replace them.

As the other groups were still getting into position, Leslyn noticed General Xavara looking at her young son from where she stood beside Aeriemaster Gunu. Her expression was perfectly still, but her eyes were bright and there was a faint flush of pride on her cheeks at the sight of Arlis taking charge. He wondered how long she had been watching.

When the general gave the order, all of the groups began to shift in place. Along with the other captains, Arlis held his arm to the side, elbow outward and fist pointing toward his ear. That was the signal for "diamond." Under close direction from their leaders, everyone began to move to their places, taking turns and sometimes pausing halfway through the motion to allow a straggler to get out of their way.

After the first messy but successful round, the general instructed them to do it a second, then third time.

As a whole, the keets were very confused by the constant herding to move such short distances for no apparent reason. Because of their strict feeding schedule, food couldn't be used to motivate them. They expressed their discomfort with little groans and mews and irritated tail twitches, as well as the occasional swat with retracted claws at their masters, or with them out and flashing if it was at a sibling who'd gotten too close. More than one recruit got caught in the crossfire and ended up needing a bandage like Kaleit’s.

It would be a while yet before the young griffins got used to it, and quite a bit longer before they were mature enough to understand the point of the exercises. That understanding might not even truly set in for them until they were asked to do it in the air with riders upon their backs, Leslyn realized. If that was the case, then Valiant might never have that experience.

They practiced for the better part of an hour before the training was ended and the field was opened to one and all for leisure time. Leslyn was more than ready to spend some time watching Valiant frolic with his brothers and sisters, but he caught sight of Erin hurrying back toward the Aerie alone with her messenger bag flailing behind her and her keet in tow. Curious and a little concerned, he waved Val along and went after them.

He arrived outside the keet’s apartment just in time to hear the click of the latch on Phoebe’s cage, and waited for Erin to come out. After a few seconds, he heard her speaking quietly, but not to Phoebe.

“…Coy? Coy, are you there?”

Feeling both utterly disgusted with himself for spying and yet completely justified in doing so, Leslyn leaned just far enough to look inside the room. Erin was facing away and dangling her moonstone necklace in front of her nose, just like she did the other day when she stood still in the pond for a disturbingly long time, like she was in a trance.

“Hello? Coyrifan? Does it work here?”

When nothing happened, her head and shoulders sagged. With a sigh, she reached into her messenger bag and took out that strange metal slab—the slabbet, he thought she’d called it. She turned it on its side and held it in front of her caged keet. A moment later, a startling blast of light filled the room in front of the girl, and it was all Leslyn could do not to yelp in surprise as he had the first time he witnessed the bizarre magic of the thing.

He backed up from the doorway, staring in disbelief as the light continued to blink on and off.

Luckily, Valiant hadn’t been disturbed, though he stared at Leslyn as if awaiting the youth’s explanation for the odd goings-on they’d just witnessed. All he could guess was that, somehow, the merling’s bewitching spell was working through her necklace. Was Coyrifan also giving those apparent powers to the slabbet? He hadn’t realized that a merling’s illusory magic could reach so far.

Not only was it drawing Erin back again and again, but she was deliberately hiding it from everyone who cared about her. Leslyn felt it in his bones that something very bad was going to befall her if this continued. There were drastic measures that could be taken, but they would certainly result in Erin completely cutting herself off from anyone involved.

I don’t know, he admitted to himself. I just don’t know. What do I do? How do I help her without chasing her further away?

What else could he do but watch?

As if someone had whispered it in his ear, Leslyn suddenly remembered what had happened the last time he’d felt so helpless. It was when Valiant was dying, so weak and wasted away that he could barely even open his eyes.

Leslyn’s world had completely crashed around him. His plans and hopes extinguished. Every avenue for escape blocked. No apparent choice left but to wait until Valiant faded away, and then return to the home and life he had already fled once, to flee the shame of his utter failure in Nilvar. Perhaps it was merely coincidence, but with nothing left to lose, he’d called out to the long-absent god of Emerrane… and his cry for help had been answered.

Just as he had then, Leslyn silently called out, hoping there was someone there who would listen.

Please, if you’re there… I can’t do this alone. Even if you don’t want to help me again… just keep her safe. That’s all I ask.

He touched his palm to the wall, willing hope to stir within himself for the girl who was on the other side. Perhaps there would come a chance, a right moment to talk to her. Maybe she would realize her own danger and come to him. Whatever happened, and until then, he would wait, and watch, and trust.

With a solemn look at his griffin, now whole and hale in spite of his hopeless beginnings, Leslyn bent and gently stroked the animal’s cheek, then led him back down the corridor to rejoin the others out on the field.