Burning Promise I a fourth wing ff

Classes

"Welcome to your first battle brief," Professor Devera says.

This is the only class held in the circular, tiered room that curves the entire end of the academic hall and one of only two rooms in the citadel capable of fitting every cadet. Every single one of the seats are filled, the seniors stand behind us, but we all fit. It's a big difference compared to our history classroom.

"In the past riders have seldom been called into service before graduation, and if they were, they were always third-years who'd spent time shadowing forward wings, but we expect you to graduate with the full knowledge of what you're up against. It's not about knowing where every wing is stationed, either," she says, making eye contact with the first-years." You need to understand the politics of our enemies, the strategies of defending our outposts from constant attack, and have a thorough knowledge of both recent and current battles. If you cannot grasp these basic topics, then you have no business on the back of a dragon."

"I thought dragons chose based on bravery" Ridoc whispers to me.

"Well I bet they're not too keen on having an idiot as a rider either" I respond.

"Fair point, but bad news for us," he says, pulling a face. I shove his shoulder to shut him up.

"This is the only class you will have every day, because it's the only class that will matter if you're called into service early. Because of that this class is taught every day and relies on the most current information, you will also answer to professor Markham, who deserves nothing but your utmost respect." she glares at us, challenging anyone to object. She's strict and I can tell, because Ridoc hasn't made any remarks.

The professor motions for the scribe to step forward who takes a pause before begining to speak.

...

During class we talk about the recent attack on the easternmost outpost bordered by Poromiel, which is usually out of range for the gryphons, but they managed to raid it when the wards faltered, and according to the professor this isn't the first time the wards have faltered. Something has to be wrong, because the wards shouldnt be faltering, its old magic, magic doesn't break. After the professor questions us,and some argument breaks out in our wing we're dismissed to go to our next class.

"We get to spar," I say in a sing song voice to Ridoc as we leave the classroom

"Thank gods for that because my brain is about to explode," he replies, gripping his hair and pulling on it.

...

We walk into the sparring gym, and I almost drop my mouth in shock. "Damn, it's huge."

"Ha, that's what she said," Ridoc laughs.

There are mats in the middle of the room and space on the side to stand and spectate, I look up and see a balcony overlooking the room.

The professor walks into the room and explains that this is an assessment, meaning no weapons, and preferably no killing each other. We'll be called out in pairs of two and spar until one of us is injured or taps out. The second one is not an option for me, not if I can help it. The professor takes note of our builds and size before he begins pairing us up with each other. The fights begin and excitement creeps its way up my spine.

" Aurelie and Ridoc," the professor calls out.

"Do me a favour and hold my shirt, don't want to get choked by it, that would be tragic," He says, taking off his shirt and shoving it into my hand, then practically skips out to the mat. Fucking idiot, I smile.

They begin to circle each other, sizing the other up, this goes on for about two more minutes and I'm about to tell Ridoc to just get to it, but before I can get the words out of my mouth the professor steps in.