The Dragon Games

Training

Someone pounded on their door at sunrise, shouting, "Meeting in the commons!" While her roommates got dressed out in the open, Regan brought her clothes to the privvy. Her scars blended in among the raiders, but her skin was a battlefield compared to the pledges'. A burn on her torso, a cut between her ribs, and several more on her back. As she left the privy chamber, Regan felt someone's stare pinned on her back. But when she turned, Elio was already looking away.

Once all thirty two pledges had arrived, Cassian said, "You have four weeks until Blood Fest begins. While you train, the Sword Brethren will scout the land around the arena to compile a list of all dragon sightings. Then, on the eve of Blood Fest, they will host an auction. Each squad will give their best pledges a sum of gold to put a reward on their favoured dragons. If another pledge happens to cross that dragon's path in the arena – and does not want to bond with that dragon themselves – they can send a letter detailing its location for the prize money. So train hard these next few weeks. The instructors will be watching, and the prize is waiting." Cassian lifted a leather satchel, opening the flap to reveal a pile of gold coins lying inside.

Gordo raised his hand. "Can we use our own money?"

"That would defeat the whole purpose of the ranking system," Cassian replied. "You may only auction funds that your house sponsor supplies you." Then he glanced at Regan. "And the funds that your house sponsor supplies you can only be used at the auction. All unused funds will be returned to Duke Tudor."

With that, whatever interest Regan had in winning the money disappeared.

Cassian clapped his hands. "Alright pledges, eat up! You'll need all the energy you cant get for the next four weeks!"

They went back to the mess hall for breakfast. There was no assigned seating, but no one strayed far from their squads. You'd be laughed away at balthasar, steward and windsor seemed pretty content with themselves, and no one wanted to sit at tudor. They were pretty infamous for their lack of funds, and showing up with a sloppy 'T' patched on to their jacket didn't help, especially while balthasar had hired a seamstress to fashion their badges with small, glittering gemstones. Regan stabbed her porridge, scowling. So that's where all the tax money went when the orphanage couldn't afford to buy her a pair of shoes. Bedazzling the balthasars.

As Regan returned to the tudor table with a heavy plate of food, Bianca cut in front of her path. Bianca nodded at a leg sticking out of the windsor table, attempting to trip Regan.

Regan blew out a breath, stepping over the leg. "Thanks."

"What are friends for?"

"We're friends?"

"I hope so," Bianca said. "We're roommates and going into the arena together. If we're not friends, we really ought to be."

"Absouletly," Regan replied with a crooked grin. Auntie had turned her off of the idea of every fully trusting someone again, but that did not mean Bianca's offer was off the table. Afterall, Regan could use a future meat shield in the arena.

After breakfast, Cassian took the Tudor pledges off castle grounds, cutting through the woods to drop them off at the stables – a three story building shaped like a dome. A man with snow white hair and a hook for a right hand met them in front of the doors. He introduced himself as Instructor Gallagher, a retired knight of the Sword Brethren.

"I will be your rising instructor for the next three years," Instructor Gallagher said. "And I covet the best of the best. Strength will be rewarded and weakness will be punished. That is why I make my recommendation for the auction winner based on vigorous, constant vigilance of your aptitude and moral fiber."