The wind whips through my hair as we soar through the clouds on Darcy, the Dragon’s, back. The world below looks like a patchwork quilt of greens and browns, dotted with the occasional glint of a river or lake. I can feel the dragon’s powerful muscles rippling beneath us with each wingbeat, a reminder of the incredible strength contained within this majestic creature.
Lydia sits behind , her arms wrapped tightly around my waist. Her wild red hair streams out behind her, occasionally tickling my face when the wind changes. Rowena perches near Darcy’s head, her short black hair barely ruffled by the breeze. She seems perfectly at ease as if riding a dragon is no more exciting than a leisurely stroll.
Suddenly, Lydia’s excited voice cuts through the rush of wind. “Look, brother!” she shouts, pointing ahead. “Your new ho!”
I follow her gesture, and my breath catches in my throat. There, sprawling across the horizon is Starcrest Academy. It’s even more magnificent than I had imagined. Towering spires reach towards the heavens, their gleaming surfaces catching the sunlight and sending it scattering in all directions. Vast courtyards and gardens spread out between the buildings, creating a tapestry of green amidst the stone and marble.
The campus seems to stretch endlessly within the borders of the Holy Kingdom, its grandeur a testant to the power and prestige of the institution. I can make out training grounds where figures clash in mock battles, libraries with windows glowing with soft light, and what looks like a massive stadium in the distance.
Rowena leans back, a serene smile on her face. “They have a really great cafeteria,” she says, her voice carrying a hint of excitent despite her calm deanor.
I can’t help but laugh at her comnt. Here we are, witnessing one of the most impressive sights I’ve ever seen, and Rowena is thinking about the food.
As we draw nearer, I can see people milling about on the grounds below. They look like ants from this height, scurrying about their daily routines. But as Darcy begins her descent, I notice sothing odd. The figures on the ground are starting to move more erratically, gathering in groups and pointing up at us.
As we drop, the world below grows larger and more detailed. The ant-like figures resolve into people. Their faces turned skyward in awe and alarm. The wind whips more fiercely around us as Darcy’s massive wings beat against the air, slowing our descent.
Diana, who has been skillfully guiding Darcy’s flight from her position at the dragon’s head, scans the ground intently. Her eyes, sharp as a hawk’s, lock onto an empty field near the edge of the campus. With a subtle shift of her body and a gentle tug on Darcy’s reins, she directs our approach.
The ground rushes up to et us, the green expanse of the field growing larger by the second. My stomach lurches as we drop the final few ters.
With a thunderous boom that reverberates through my entire body, Darcy touches down. The impact is violent yet precisely controlled, a testant to Diana’s exceptional skill. Dirt and debris billow up around us, montarily obscuring our view of the surroundings.
As the dust settles, I see a crowd gathering at the edges of the field, their faces a mix of awe and trepidation. Before I can fully take in the scene, I feel strong arms wrap around .
“Hey, hey!” I protest as Diana effortlessly lifts into a princess carry. Her armor clinks softly with the movent, cool against my skin. “I can get off on my own!”
Diana sighs. “They don’t have the proper platforms to accommodate a dragon landing here,” she explains, her voice tinged with disapproval. “The ground is uneven and potentially dangerous.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Lydia and Rowena gracefully dismount with elegance only seen in great gymnasts. Their feet touching the ground with barely a sound. Lydia’s eyes are already scanning the crowd, her posture alert and ready for any potential threat. Rowena, in contrast, seems utterly unfazed by the commotion, her serene expression a stark contrast to the excitent around us.
Diana steps off Darcy’s back, still carrying . The impact of her landing sends small tremors through the earth, a reminder of her imnse strength. She sets down gently on the grass, her hands lingering on my shoulders for a mont longer than necessary.
A nervous-looking woman in official robes hurries across the field, her eyes darting between our imposing group and the massive silver dragon behind us. Her hands fidget with the hem of her sleeves as she approaches, a forced smile plastered on her face.
“Ah, Warbringers!” she exclaims, her voice pitched slightly too high. “It’s nice to et you today. And I see you’ve brought your... family dragon with you.”
Her gaze flicks nervously to Darcy, who regards her with ancient, rcurial eyes. A thin, mocking wisp of smoke curls from Darcy’s nostrils, and the administrator takes an involuntary step back. Darcy’s eyes seem to stifle sothing that seems like a chuckle.
‘Darcy the Diva. Putting on smoke just get a laugh.’
Diana’s icy blue eyes fix on the woman, her gaze as sharp and unyielding as a blade. “Can you please fetch the attendants to grab our bags?” she asks, her tone clipped and brooking no argunt.
The administrator bows deeply, her robes rustling with the movent. “Right away, Instructor Warbringer,” she says, her voice tinged with a mixture of respect and fear.
As the woman scurries away, Diana turns her attention to the growing crowd of onlookers. Her eyes sweep across the field, cold and calculating. Students whisper among themselves, so pointing excitedly at Darcy, others shrinking back under Diana’s penetrating stare.
As I take in the awestruck faces of the students and staff gathered around us, a thought suddenly strikes . I turn to my sisters, my brow furrowed in confusion.
“Why are we the only family with a dragon here?” I ask, gesturing to the majestic silver beast behind us. “Surely other kingdoms would have their own, right?”
Rowena’s serene expression doesn’t waver as she responds, her voice calm and matter-of-fact. “That’s because most countries, when they see a dragon, commit their entire army to killing it,” she explains. “Dragons are seen as dangerous, unpredictable creatures to be feared and destroyed.”
Her grey eyes take on a distant look as if recalling a tale she’s heard many tis. “But in our case, Mother saw Darcy when she was young and decided to make her serve her instead.”
I blink in surprise, turning to look at Darcy with newfound wonder. The massive silver dragon ets my gaze, her rcury eyes swirling with embarrassnt.
Tentatively, I reach out and pat Darcy’s scales. They’re warm to the touch, smooth yet unyielding. “Is that true?” I ask softly.
Darcy lets out a low, mournful whine that seems to vibrate through my very bones. The sound is filled with a complex mixture of emotions, longing, regret, and a deep, abiding loyalty. Then, as if shaking off the mont of vulnerability, she lowers her massive head and nuzzles with surprising gentleness. Her actions are almost puppy-like in their affection, a stark contrast to her fearso appearance.
I pet Darcy’s head harder. “It’s okay, girl, I bet you’d be able to kill everyone else’s moms.”
Darcy snorts in agreent. Her rcury eyes dance with a mixture of amusent and arrogance.
Diana’s voice cuts through my reverie. “You two,” she says, nodding to Lydia and Rowena, “escort him to his private dorm.”
I blink in surprise, turning to face my eldest sister. “Private?” I repeat, confusion evident in my tone.
Diana’s icy blue eyes et mine, a hint of pride glimring in their depths. “We are royalty, even here,” she explains, her voice carrying the weight of our family’s status. “We will be afforded accommodations befitting our house.” Her gaze softens slightly as she continues, “And since you are a male, you will have a dorm to yourself.”
Lydia grins, slinging an arm around my shoulders. “Don’t worry, little brother,” she says, her voice filled with mischief. “We’ll make sure your private quarters are fit for a prince.”
Rowena nods in agreent, her serene smile never wavering. “And we’ll ensure your safety at all tis,” she adds, her soft voice carrying an undercurrent of steel.
As we make our way across the sprawling campus towards my dorm, I’m struck by the sheer grandeur of Starcrest Academy. The pathways are paved with gleaming white stone. Towering trees line the walkways.
Students hang about, their voices a lodic hum of excitent and anticipation for the new term. Many pause to stare at us as we pass, their eyes wide with a mixture of awe and curiosity.
I can’t help but feel a bit self-conscious under their scrutiny, but Lydia and Rowena flank protectively, their presence a comforting buffer against the attention.
As we round a corner, my breath catches in my throat. There, standing beneath an ancient oak tree, is the most breathtakingly beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on. Her flowing white hair cascades down her back like a waterfall of moonlight, contrasting starkly with the deep brown leather of her armor. The armor hugs her athletic fra perfectly, each piece clearly crafted with both function and aesthetics in mind.
But it’s her eyes that truly captivate . Golden and intense, they captivate to my very core. As we draw closer, I find myself unable to look away, entranced by her presence.
Suddenly, her gaze locks with mine, and I watch in fascination as her eyes widen. A myriad of emotions flashes across her face too quickly for to decipher.
‘Is this love at first site.’ I can’t help but wonder to myself, praying it’s that simple.
Lydia’s eyes light up with recognition, a spark of excitent dancing in her hazel irises. She steps forward, her fiery hair bouncing with each movent. “Oh, you’re Octavia, right?” she exclaims, her voice brimming with enthusiasm. “The girl that pulled the hero’s sword from the stone?”
The white-haired beauty’s deanor shifts instantly. Where monts ago her golden eyes had been fixed on with an intensity that made my heart race, now they slide coolly over to Lydia. Her face settles into a mask of practiced politeness, all trace of the earlier emotions vanishing like mist in the morning sun.
“Yes, it’s nice to et you,” Octavia replies, her voice smooth and controlled. She extends a hand towards Lydia, the gesture graceful yet sohow distant.
Lydia grasps Octavia’s hand with enthusiasm, shaking it vigorously. Her grin is wide and infectious, a stark contrast to Octavia’s asured smile. “You must be very strong then,” Lydia says, her tone a mixture of admiration and challenge.
Octavia chuckles awkwardly, the sound low and lodious despite her apparent discomfort. “Oh, I’m sure I’m no match for a Warbringer,” she says, her golden eyes flickering between Lydia and Rowena. “Your family’s strength is legendary.”
I step forward, extending my hand towards her. “I’m Elwin,” I say, offering a warm smile. “It’s a pleasure to et you, Octavia.”
The mont her na leaves my lips, a transformation cos over Octavia. Her entire face flushes a deep crimson, the blush spreading from her cheeks down her neck and disappearing beneath the collar of her armor. Her breathing becos ragged and heavy, each inhale a struggle as if the very air around her has thickened.
Her golden eyes now widen to an almost impossible degree.
My outstretched hand hangs in the space between us, but Octavia seems to have forgotten it exists. She’s frozen in place, her body rigid as a statue. The only movent is the rapid rise and fall of her chest and the slight trembling of her fingers.
Suddenly, Octavia’s lips part. “Fuck...You..” she mutters. Her eyes go even wider, if that’s possible, as she realizes what she’s said.
‘Fuck you? Ouch. I guess it wasn’t love at first site.’ My mind reels at the thought of her reaction.
Then, without warning, she turns on her heel and bolts. Her white hair streams out behind her as she sprints away, weaving between stunned students with the agility of a seasoned warrior. The sound of her boots pounding against the stone path echoes in the sudden silence that’s fallen over our little group.
As Octavia’s retreating form disappears around a distant corner, the air seems to vibrate with the lingering energy of her explosive departure.
Rowena blinks slowly, her serene expression giving way to a rare look of confusion. Her brow furrows delicately, creating tiny creases in her otherwise smooth forehead. “Did she just... say ‘fuck you’ to brother?” she asks, her soft voice tinged with disbelief.
“Yeah,” Lydia manages between gasps of laughter, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. She turns to , her hazel eyes twinkling with mischief. “Looks like she’s not your biggest fan, little brother.”
I can’t help but feel a pang of disappointnt as I stare at the spot where Octavia vanished. She seed really special.
“Oh well,” I sigh, trying to inject so nonchalance into my voice. “Plenty of fish in the sea, right?” The words feel hollow as they leave my lips, echoing slightly in the open courtyard.
Lydia’s grin turns sly, a dangerous glint entering her eyes. “There are also fish at ho, you know?”
“Fuck off, Lydia,” I say with a sigh.
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