The Rider's Truth.

Winter comes again

Unedited. 

Painfully so. 

28: Winter comes again.

There was no pity in Caoimhe's eyes as I trudged into training the next morning. There was a headache throbbing in the back of my skull brought on by the strength of the senses that had been torn open by the Change. There were things that I constantly kept noticing, like the bonds alighting between the Riders and their dragons when they felt a particularly strong emotion, or the strains of their unconscious magic.

Everything felt strange and malleable under my finger-tips, and that made me incredibly uneasy. I wanted to shove it away, but the strength it had given my limbs gave me a degree of confidence that I had been missing all my life.

"Don't expect me to go easy on you, Lynch." Caoimhe held out her flask and I took a swig of it, shuddering as the alcohol burned its way down my blood-stream. "You have missed a weeks' worth of training."

"I mean, I suffered incredible agony during that week." I shrugged my shoulders, picking up my twin blades. Because I went through the Change, that meant I would be gifted with runed blades. Dem had gotten his before the Change, but that's because he was rich and even though his father hated him, he couldn't let his son wait like the commoners. I rarely saw him ever lift those in training: they were gorgeous, but his pride was too strong.

"And that attitude shows me you're up for a sparring match."

I swung my blades, listening to the whistle of the blades as they sliced through the air. "Maybe I won't go easy on you?"

Caoimhe grinned. "Just keeping joking Lynch."

The Sentinel motioned for me to start my warm-ups, and I eased myself into it to test my muscles. Caoimhe rattled on as I stretched, telling me about her training in Whithaven where all Sentinels took their oaths to protect Valaxia from exposure, and to protect the innocent humans from the evils that did spill out from the Supernatural world.

Their oak tattoo infused magic into their blood, making them stronger so they could take the blows inflicted on them. When I was warmed up, and my chest was heaving as the beginnings of adrenaline coursed through my body, I faced the Sentinel.

She fixed me with a strange look as she rolled her shoulders and there was a slight reluctance in her stance as she glanced over my shoulder. I couldn't see anyone other than Nethore who sprawled out lazily along the benches with his eyes on the birds who dared to take his place on the dragons' perches that surrounded the arena.

"Why don't you make them move?"

He sighed, sending out a lazily trail of smoke. "Nethore likes their singing."

Caoimhe lunged as I turned, and I balked. I only raised my blades quick enough to stop her smashing her own down on top of me, and my arms screamed at the strength behind the blow. It pushed me back, my heels digging into the soil before I wrenched myself away and spun. There were guards on our blades to keep them from slicing us open but Dia, was she trying to hurt me?

My trainer moved expertly, hounding my steps and I barely could manage to keep blocking her each time. I had become quicker and stronger since I escaped from that mountain, but I still wasn't strong. It made frustration simmer inside of me, fleeting and quick as I tried to concentrate on defending myself.

"Neely!"

Metal rang, the sound reverberating across the arena before my attention flickered to the person in the archway. It was Gabriel – with his chest heaving, and a phone in his hand. The other Riders were hurrying up behind him and Dem was grinning widely. The twins were more reserved, talking rapidly to each other in French and ...of course, Zephyr wasn't wearing a shirt because why would he wear a shirt to bed when it was winter.