The week flew by, and before I had time to fully settle in and get a healthy sleep rhythm going, Dragonstryke tryouts were on the horizon. They took place on Saturday, and each team was given two hours.

On Thursday, I went to my mailbox and noticed I didn't have a letter, but I asked the kid working the front desk of the Fyron entrance area if he had seen any letters for me.

"Uh, I don't think so. My name is Gerald, by the way. I don't think we met yet," The kid said. Gerald had long hair that covered his eyes and a slow cadence. He seemed like he was in a permanent daze.

"Nice to meet you, Gerald. I'm Rollie Magpie. I'm wondering if I have a letter from my grandpa?" I rolled my eyes as he was digging through a pile of envelopes.

"Oh, I think I may have found it. Uh, yeah, I think I got it. Sorry about that." Gerald handed me an envelope with my name on it. Sure enough, my grandpa had written to me.

Rollie,

Hello, Grandpa here writing you to make sure that you're doing okay and having an excellent time at Loxton so far. Please tell me how things are going! I've been thinking about you a lot.

I know this week is usually the Dragonstryke tryouts week. I wanted to tell you that I respect your decision either way. If you try out, great, if you don't want to try out, I also understand that.

During my professional days, I remember playing against another team in my third year in the league (kind of like your third year in Lementum, ha!) And I had an incident. I was a defender chasing after the other team, the Night Owls, who had just taken a trophy from us. And I'll never forget it, the player, Hoyt Flipulus, was speeding back to their zone, and I must have lost my temper. I never liked him much as a player, but I was really cruising on that dragon bike. I went beyond the regulated speed and crashed into him, breaking his shoulder. He also flew into the stands, although he didn't go below. Still, I had done some severe damage, and it shook me up.

I know what you're going through, Hoyt had to take some time off to rehabilitate his injury, but I apologized and did everything I could to express my regret. I felt the story was similar enough to share with you. I just don't want you to put all the blame on yourself and prevent you from having the best time you can at Loxton.

Please write to me if you have any questions. I understand your decision either way, and I support you. I know this is tough.

Love, Grandpa.

I paused after reading the letter. I wasn't sure how to feel. I wished he had gone into greater detail about the incident, specifically his feelings and how he overcame it, but eventually, he did because he went on to win championships. Nevertheless, I was still torn on what to do. The night before the tryouts, I couldn't fall asleep, but then I recalled the conversation I had with Aunt Josephine over the summer.

"Houston lost an arm because of me, and his life will never be the same. It's because of that whole incident that I'm here now. I've been scared to go back on the dragon bike for sport. What if I hurt someone again?"

"Rollie, you have made tremendous progress so far this summer." Aunt Josephine smiled. "You can't pin all of that blame on who you are now as a person. The old Rollie did that in the past and that was a different person. You are new, you've had new experiences, and you've shaped so many new moldings that you've shed that previous occupant in yourself. Sure, it might feel like not much time has passed, but once we recognize that we did wrong in that moment and never want to experience it again, we have grown. We have matured. We are different people. It's valuable that we learn these lessons because learning from them is the best you can do. Dragonstryke means a lot to you, and I think you are wise being hesitant, but I think you can ease back in, knowing what you know now, and a mistake like that won't happen again."

"But it's such a high pace sport. There's so much going on. Anything can happen like that." I snapped my finger.

"While that's true, let me ask you something. What would you do differently if you returned to that moment?"

"I would not have charged after Houston the way I did. I would have stopped and not let my emotions get the better of me."

Aunt Josephine paused. "See? You've grown."

"But I don't feel any different."

"And that's okay. It's hard to measure, but you are different now. You've improved, you've learned, and I think you can go back on the playing field and play with a heightened awareness that wasn't there before. You can do it. You told me once that Dragonstryke is your favorite thing to do in the whole world. When you played American football, a friend of yours got injured. Do you know if the player that injured him continued playing?"

"I don't know, probably. But that was much different. It was an accident, he didn't mean to give our player a concussion."

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

"You didn't mean for Houston to lose his arm."

I finally fell asleep.

When I woke up in the morning, I was still uncertain about going to the tryouts. I had yet to put my name on the sheet in the common room for everyone who wanted to be given a chance. I figured I could wait until the end of the day to decide. My heart wanted to put my name up there as soon as possible, but my gut told me I should take a year off.

When I finished eating dinner, all the conversations for the night at the table revolved around Dragonstryke. I stayed silent through all of it, but Zita patrolled the halls and waved to us once we headed back to our dormitory. "Rollie? May I have a word?"

"Sure thing," I said, waving goodbye to my friends.

Bran, Edna, and Daphne were surprised, but they continued along and waved.

Other students kept moseying through the halls, but Zita only pulled me off to the side, still in front of everyone. I was worried I might be in trouble, but I hadn't done anything wrong. Principal Zita had an intense presence, and I still felt intimidated.

"Relax, Rollie, you're not in trouble. I wanted to inquire about the Dragonstryke signup sheet for the Fyron tryouts. Your name isn't on that list," she said.

"Uh, right. I haven't put my name on it yet."

"Well, it's not too late. You're going to when you get back to the room, right?"

"I was thinking about it."

"Look, when I talked with your previous head coach, Ms. Florence, she made me promise her that I would ensure you would try out for the team. So this is me holding up my end of the deal."

"Well, I was on the fence about playing this year. Last year kind of ended in disaster." I was proud of myself for saying that. It was intimidating talking to Zita.

Zita folded her arms. "Yeah, I heard about that. I understand if you don't want to play, but I don't think there's any harm in trying out. That's all I was requested to do. Make sure that you try out. If you make it, you can quit the team. Or you can sit on the bench. The choice is yours, I suppose, but I don't want to disappoint your old head coach, who still cares about how you're doing."

I was honored to hear that Coach Florence cared so much that she contacted Zita. I was about to start crying, but I couldn't, not with all the students still walking around in the hallway. "Thanks. I appreciate that."

Zita tucked her head down and stared at me from over her nose. "Very well. Enjoy the rest of your evening." Zita turned away and strolled through the hall.

I stood there for a few seconds before joining the flow of foot traffic. Although as soon as I turned the corner to get to the Fyron dormitory, Bran, Daphne, and Edna waited for me around the corner.

"Oh, hey! That wasn't very long. What happened? Is everything okay?" Bran asked.

"Yeah. Everything's fine."

"What did Zita want to talk to you about?" Daphne said, almost sounding a little jealous.

"Uh, nothing really, Just a quick message. Apparently, my old teacher from Amerzia wanted to give me her regards and check in on me."

"Ah, sounds pretty boring," Bran said.

"Don't be so rude! That's very sweet of your old teacher," Edna said.

"We thought you may have gotten in trouble or something," Bran said.

"Uh, we? No, you, Bran. You're the only one who thought Rollie got in trouble," Daphne said.

"Well, good news, no one's in trouble. We can all return to the Fyron dormitory for the rest of the night." I clapped and rubbed my hands together.

Returning to the large dormitory foyer with the main door and mailbox area, the signup sheet for the tryouts was posted on a board right next to the front desk. A pen made of smooth stone with fire engravings dangled from the posting. I thought about signing up, but my friends were all around me. For some reason, I wanted it to be a surprise. So we walked into the common room together, and many students were studying and hanging out, waltzing around, and having fun. While my friends joined the mix, I went back outside and scribbled my name on the tryout sheet.

Us Fyrons had the field from 6pm-8pm to hold tryouts. The last ones.

It was an easy walk to the field, I missed taking the train like I did back at Attleton, but it was nice being able to walk through a wide bridge made of flagstone. Square windows lined the walls, letting in the breeze of the late summer air. Off to the sides, I could see the forests, and at some angles, I could see the skyline of Loxton behind me. The bridge wasn't straight but winding to the left and right. I wasn't paying close attention to my friends chatting. I was too busy taking in the sights. The bridge ran straight into a tunnel in the mountain.

"I think you're going to be really impressed with Edna This year, Daphne," Bran said.

"You keep saying that. Let my playing do all the talking," Edna said. "Daphne, you've been a little quiet. How are you?"

"Just trying to get focused, that's all," Daphne said.

We all walked until we reached the end of the bridge. Edna told me all about Coach Cambridge, a tall athletic woman with dark brown hair. The bridge led us directly to the flagstone concourse in the cave, leading to the stadium. Although we could only see the exterior, It was made entirely of wood, lit up with white flames on posts and a lot of it was run down and had stains on it. I was surprised, the rest of Loxton was so beautiful, but they never seemed to have renovated the stadium. Flags of all of the mages were flown in front. Signs on fancy lamp posts with a bulletin on them pointed us in the direction of the tryouts. Heading left, we went down another corridor and arrived at a massive room filled with slender, numbered doors.

Coach Cambridge stood by, giving a line of students a number slip. I didn't understand what was happening, but I just followed my friends, everything seemed normal, but the giant ball in front of me was overwhelming.

"Here you are, my dear. Remember your number," Coach Cambridge said as she gave Daphne a slip, and I was next in line.

"Uh, I don't exactly know what this is for?" I whispered.

Coach Cambridge gave me a slip. "Nothing to be embarrassed about. These are for your locker where your dragon bike is stored. You'll walk in, grab your bike, and open the door on the other side. Then, you'll fly out onto the practice field. Let me know if you have any issues. Remember your number, though."

"Thank you." I took the piece of paper and read it aloud "178." Fortunately, all the numbers on the doors were printed massively, so walking up the spiral staircase was easy until I got to the fourth floor. They had 50 lockers per row. I found 178 without any trouble and wondered how to open the door. There was no knob or anything except a slot to put the piece of paper in. It felt like I was back in my homeworld, placing a dollar bill in a vending machine. The door propped open, and in front of me was the dragon bike I had packed. The slender chrome Blackbird.