I had hoped to find out right then and there who made the team, but instead, I returned to the dorm and wandered around the picturesque campus until dinner time. That night, the anticipation of being on the Dragonstryke team consumed my thoughts, plaguing me with the possibility of not making the cut. My restlessness prevented me from falling asleep, so I roamed the dimly lit hallways and ventured outside the dormitory, taking a walk until I felt tired enough to return and finally fall asleep. I didn't know what else to do despite knowing I wasn't supposed to wander around at such a late hour. It was as if my body had transformed into a reservoir of unspent energy, surging at the exact moment I was meant to fall asleep.

The following morning, I eagerly checked my mailbox, anticipating a letter.

It wasn't there.

After my morning classes, I checked again at the beginning of the afternoon.

Still not there.

As my last class finished, I jogged from the imposing education building to the Fyron Dormitory and checked my mailbox one more time.

Empty.

Frustrated, I slammed the tiny door shut on the cubby hole and retreated to my room. Around dinner time, I left my room and met up with Farrah and her friends to walk to the bustling dining hall together. I told them to go ahead while I checked my mailbox one last time. To my delight, I noticed a letter.

Finally.

Swiftly swiping the envelope from the tiny mailbox, I sprinted to catch up with Farrah and her friends, who were chatting animatedly. But Farrah hung back, patiently waiting for me.

"So, did you get it?" she asked.

"Yeah, I think so. I just grabbed whatever was in my mailbox. I didn't even check who it was from or what it was for." Glancing at the envelope, I saw it was addressed to me and sent from Fyron Head Coach Florence Kymba.

Together with Farrah, we tore the envelope open and held out the letter in front of us, our eyes scanning the words eagerly.

Rollie,

Thank you for your patience with the Fyron Dragonstryke program. Trust me when I say I wanted you to be part of our team last year, but I felt it was best to wait, and in a way, I'm satisfied with the decision. I believe it may have motivated you to work harder over the summer, and your progress has been remarkable. Your performance at the tryouts yesterday was genuinely unbelievable. In all my years of coaching and watching the game, I have never seen a second-year student achieve what you have. It is with great pleasure that I welcome you to join the team. Congratulations! Please attend our first practice next Sunday. We have a lot of work to do to prepare for our first game against the Aquasos.

Head Coach Florence Kymba.

Emotions bubbled within me, and I felt on the verge of tears. The overwhelming joy tingled through all my senses. Unable to contain my excitement, I jumped up and threw my fists in the air, skipping around behind the group. Farrah chuckled as she watched my excited display.

"Congratulations, Rollie!" Farrah beamed.

As soon as my celebratory dance ended, we hugged each other tightly for a moment.

"Come on, lovebirds, let's keep it moving," Farrah's friend Jasmine teased.

Just to spite Jasmine, I held on to Farrah even longer than I had initially planned.

"I'm so proud of you, Rollie. I can't wait to watch you play this season," Farrah whispered.

I couldn't wait either. Every night that week, sleep eluded me as thoughts of the upcoming Dragonstryke season consumed my mind. More than anything else in the world, I wanted practices to start. My nighttime walks around campus became routine. It was the only thing that could calm my restless brain. Each time I returned to bed, sleep would claim me instantly. But I knew I had to break this bad habit; the last thing I wanted was to get in trouble and risk being kicked off the team.

Sunday finally arrived, and with it, our first practice. The team had many familiar faces, including Arthur, who was a massive jerk to me the previous year. As the week progressed, however, practices became more enjoyable for me since I managed to claim the starting thief spot from Arthur.

Feeling on top of the world, I often watched my teammates practice and shouted out:

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"You can do better than that! You have to focus, focus, focus!"

"What kind of play was that?"

"What were you thinking?"

"Get it together, you guys are playing like garbage!"

"Pick up the pace! How do you expect to win if you're practicing like that?"

We were supposed to vote for team captain on Friday, and I thought I'd be a shoo-in. After all, I was one of the best players on the field, if not the best, and my presence in practice was undeniable.

On Thursday, during a drill, I flew through a zone attempting to grab a trophy. Coach Florence had devised a play where I would go in third after two other players, but they kept getting hit by fire bolts, meaning they would've been out for the rest of the match in a real game.

"Are you guys serious? You can't both go down so easily! Get it together and run it again!" I snapped.

Coach Florence blew her whistle and gestured for me to return to the ground. An assistant coach stepped in and had the players rerun the drill.

"What's up, Coach Flo?" I said.

Her glare was intense. I half-expected lasers to shoot from her eyes and fry me on the spot. "Rollie, what the heck is the matter with you?"

"What are you talking about?"

"You've been acting like a cruel jerk during every practice. I can't stand it anymore. At first, I thought it was just a fluke, but you're habitually scolding your teammates. What are you thinking? Why do you think this is okay?"

I paused for a moment, genuinely confused. "I guess I wanted to be captain, and I figured I had to be tough, you know?"

"No, I don't know. Captains are typically people that everyone likes and respects. They're kind and mature. Do you know what you're doing right now?"

I shrugged, unsure of what to say.

"Everyone despises your behavior, Rollie. You can't continue acting this way, or your team won't stand by you," Coach Florence warned, her expression stern and concern etched on her face. "Despite being one of our best players on the field—a fact I truly appreciate—you'll sabotage our chances of success if you persist in being so rude and mean to others." She shook her head, disappointment in her eyes. "I regret praising you so highly in your acceptance letter. It seems to have inflated your ego and clouded your judgment."

"I'm really sorry, Coach. I was just trying to be a leader," I said, hanging my head in shame.

"Leave the coaching to me," she said firmly, her voice strong and unwavering. "If you want to be a leader, reflect on the qualities of the captains from other teams you've played for, and consider what made them effective or not."

"Well, I played football in high school, and our captain acted like that and—"

Coach Florence raised her hand, stopping me. "I hate to say it, but he sounds like a terrible captain. To be an effective leader, you must support your teammates, even when they're struggling. Encourage them, acknowledge their accomplishments, and give them a pat on the back or a high-five. Collaborate with them. Be the person they can rely on. If you can't find it in your heart to show kindness to your teammates when they need it, you're not fit to be a captain. And if that's the case, then keep your mouth shut. Any questions?"

I shook my head, understanding her message and feeling the weight of my actions.

"All right, get on out of here, then. Do better, Rollie. I have faith in you and your ability to change."

I nodded, flying back up to the area on the field where I had just been practicing. The Blackbird jerked from side to side, and I struggled to regain control. Its turns were rough, too. I longed to apologize to my teammates, but embarrassment held me back. I silently wished for practice—and the day—to end.

When Friday arrived, we selected captains at the beginning of practice. Unsurprisingly, not a single person voted for me, even though I genuinely believed I would have been good at it.

My teammates chatted, greeted each other warmly on the train and at the practice field, and laughed together. They conversed during breaks and shared jokes, forming strong bonds with one another. However, no one spoke to me.

I felt utterly defeated and isolated. Despite my drills going well and my recurring role as the focal point of plays and strategies, I had driven everyone away. The thought of complimenting or praising my teammates felt awkward after being so harsh, so I remained silent, a heavy weight in my chest.

Our first match against the Aquasos took place in the most crowded stadium in the cavern I had ever seen. The atmosphere was electric, buzzing with anticipation and excitement. But my heart was heavy as I faced the reality of the strained relationships I had created with my team, knowing I had a long road ahead to mend those connections.

On the floating platform at the side of the field, where everyone on the team parked our dragon bikes, Coach Florence stood confidently at a podium. She would remain there for the rest of the match, commanding our team with her strategic insights. Clearing her throat, she enthusiastically addressed us, "This is what we live for, everyone—the beginning of the Dragonstryke season! I love that we open it up with a rivalry game against the Aquasos, a classic battle that always keeps the audience on the edge of their seats. Remember what an honor it is to play in this game. Whatever you do today will be etched in history, so go out there and give the performance of your life. Don't give the Aquasos the satisfaction of a season of bragging rights. Let's continue our victory streak from last year, but don't underestimate them—they are always a formidable opponent. Make it known that this is our season. Everyone thinks we are in a rebuilding phase since we lost many players who graduated. But I believe that couldn't be further from the truth. I think this is our season for the taking, and it all starts with this game. Now, let's make the thousands of alumni that come to this game proud. They want to see their glorious Fyron siblings begin this season with a victory."

My teammates erupted in shouts of glee, but I remained silent, focused, and ready to begin the match.

As I flew toward the center field on my Blackbird bike, my body trembled with anticipation. Despite my nerves, I managed to steer and control the bike without any issues.

The Aquasos, clad in royal blue cloaks, took their positions on the field, and the announcer's voice boomed over the loudspeakers.

"Hello, mages! Welcome to the opening game of the Dragonstryke season! I'm your host, Mickey Alvarez, and it's a thrill to begin a new season!" The excitement in his voice matched the stadium's energy as we prepared for the game to begin.