Wisteria Colland has prepared her entire life for the Rider's Quadrant. Why would you go into infantry or the scribes when you could have the chance to bond a dragon? But things aren't as simple as Wisteria had hoped when she gets herself tangled up...
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"Welcome to your first Battle Brief." Professor Devera stands at the front of the lecture hall. She has a bright purple Flame Section patch sewn onto her shoulder that matches her short hair exactly. I take a moment to observe the hall—it's a circular, tiered room curving the end of the academic hall. It's one of the only rooms capable of fitting every cadet, although every seat is filled and third years line the walls.
I sit in a row with all of the other first years in Second Squad. I'm seated with Ridoc to my left and Rhiannon to my right, with Violet on the other side of the dark skinned girl. I can't recall the names of the other first years, other than Sawyer, who sits further down the row. Maize is fiddling with her quill on the other side of Ridoc. She's ignored me since the parapet, and I can't say I'm upset about it.
"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 we're up against," Devera says as she walks slowly back and forth in front of a massive map of the continent mounted on the back wall.
"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." The professor arches a brow and the cadets, and I write down a few notes in my messy slanted scrawl.
Politics of enemies. Strategies defending outposts. Knowledge relating to current and past battles.
"This is the only class you will have every day," Professor Devera continues, "because it's the only class that will matter if you get called into service early. Because 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." Professor Markham steps forward, and leans closer to the rider when she whispers something in his ear.
The scribe's gaze flies towards my row, settling on Violet just two seats to my right. He sighs quietly before directing his gaze to the whole class. "It is the duty of the scribes not only to study and master the past but to relay and record the present," the Professor says. "Without accurate depictions of our front lines, reliable information with which to make strategic decisions, and–most importantly–veracious details to document our history for the good of future generations , we're doomed, not only as a kingdom but as a society."
Maybe he's right, but could he at least say it in a way that doesn't make my brain hurt? I rest my head on the palm of my hand, already bored.
"First topic of the day." Professor Devera steps forward again and I immediately perk up. Finally. " The Eastern Wing experienced an attack last night near the village of Chakir by a drift of Braevi gryphons and riders."
