A Dance of Wyverns (Original - Victorian England)

[Erien]

Thanks to @Armoury for the beta!

---

I would happily admit to any that asked in the future that I grinned like a damned fool the entire flight from London to Dover. If asked why I didn't bother containing my excitement or acting like the adult I presented myself as it would come down to one simple answer. How could I damn well not? I was a farmer -and a damned good one at that- but coos have a distinct ability to stay on the ground. This… was simply magical.

"You are going to stain my windows if you continue to drool on them." Morrigan said, amusement clear as the glass she spoke of in her voice.

"An' all wash 'em for ya." I replied, not taking my eyes away from the glass.

The sun had well and truly set by the time we had approached Dover, but that didn't stop me from seeing the landscape. The famed white cliffs were well illuminated by the town surrounding it, and lanterns streaked through the night sky as wyverns and carriages just like ours came and went across the channel. A gigantic domed structure sat near the castle on the cliffs, and the light from its interior made the glass glint like a Christmas bauble in a store window, and even from my distance away I could see stands and a gigantic pit square in the middle of it. Through the glass I could also make out a wyvern, white in color, making rapid circles in the air over the stands, it spun and twisted in the air, cartwheeling and putting on a death-defying performance.

Further down the road from it, nearer to one of the cliffs overlooking the town that sat on the beach, was a large oval-shaped building, much the same as the one I left in London. There I could see carriages and heavier ships, dozens of them, either taking off, staying, or coming into England itself. One wyvern, in particular, caught my eye, coming in for a landing, a gargantuan black beast, so black it would be invisible in the night except for the lights tacked along its side. Twin flags hung from the rear of the container it was hauling behind it, the French flag trailing behind in its wake.

"How busy is this town?" I asked a stupid question.

"Dover is the busiest wyvern-port in England. Shipping, tourism, there's hardly a dull moment. Though we aren't going into Dover itself." Morrigan responded.

I looked back to see the woman looking out the opposite window. "We aren't?"

Morrigan shook her head, then pointed out the direction she was looking. "The school is situated about three miles outside of town, best for giving the wyverns space to fly without causing any… accidents."

I slid across the cushioned bench and looked out the opposite pane of glass. There, just faintly in the distance, I could make out a rather large brick building that stood apart from everything else around it. No houses, no other parts of the town were near it, but the building itself was an entire complex, and as we slowly curved to get closer I could make out more of it. The main building was four stories or so tall with a wide flat roof, it didn't even have a center. Instead, a large courtyard made up the middle of the building, something I got a good look at as the carriage made a wide circle to come to a rolling stop in front of the building itself.

To the right of the main building was another large structure, and it was the second building I had ever seen in an oval shape. Except this one was much shorter than the last; it could not possibly be taller than my barn, and that was even if I included the stands that gave it most of its height. The entire center was an open dirt track, through which stood tall posts with large rings sitting atop them. What it was used for was beyond my understanding, but it was easily three to four times longer than the main building itself. Beyond that was the largest of all of the structures, of which there were many more littered throughout the rolling, grassy land the school was situated in.

"What on God's green earth is that?" A gargantuan dome made of metal and glass, easily the size of the track if not bigger, the base of the structure was stone, probably a good dozen feet high before glass piled up from it to form a large half-circle that completely enclosed the building. Through the grass, I could make out trees and rock formations, including a large cliff that jutted proudly over a winding river.

"The aviary," Morrigan responded, and a click of the door revealed that not only had we landed during my gazing, but she had moved to exit the carriage as well. "I can give you the tour once your wyvern arrives, for now, you must be famished."

---

"Your wyvern is on course to arrive tomorrow, just as I promised," Morrigan said simply, popping a bit of the steak into her mouth before lightly dapping at her lips with a napkin. "We shall be starting your training immediately once it has become situated in the aviary. I would suggest rest immediately after dinner."

I nodded as I cut into my meal, far fancier than I was used to… but not quite fancy enough that I felt awkward eating it. I felt more awkward about the building I was currently situated in. The office in London was fancy. Crawford's apartment was nice. This was simply too much. Tall painted walls rose to an arched ceiling, and the arch itself was glinting with some form of gold. The lights inside the building causing it to shine in different ways for every angle I turned my head. The walls were lined with tall windows, so clean and large that when I looked at the courtyard I almost felt like the room was open to the outdoors.

Upon entering the 'grand hall' -as she had called it, though I could not argue against the name- I was quickly sat at a table, whereupon a rather extensive amount of servants had seemingly appeared out of a damned fae's circle to bring in food. The table was longer than my house, and more than likely worth a fair bit more as well. It was only one of many spread across the gigantic hall, the room taking up the entire side of the building I had entered from. It made me nervous, though I tried my best not to show it as I ate. "Thank you fer the dinner. And yer hospitality."

"Welcome, of course," Morrigan replied. "I do hope it is up to your standards."

I arched a brow but carefully said nothing as I finished off the last mouthful. The moment my utensils crossed over the ceramic plates they were both lifted away from the table by a servant, who moved with such smooth, fast grace that I had to wonder if he had somehow known when I would put down my plate before I did. No sooner than I thought that, another servant stepped and gestured… something. I stared at him, attempting to decipher the gesture as he repeated it.

"He's politely offering to show you to your room," Morrigan smirked in my direction, and if I had any doubt she was taking the piss out of me before, she dispelled it with as little as a short breath that was just barely not a giggle.

"Ah… thanks." I stood up and gave Morrigan one final nod with about as much thankfulness as I could muster without words. Her smile became less teasing; kinder, I hoped, though I had not seen enough of her smile to know what that would look like. I stepped out of the grand hall and into one of the two hallways that lead out of it. In this case, it was the western hallway, which quickly cornered and turned north to reveal one straight and relatively thin (in comparison) hallway that went all the way down to the next corner of the building. The relative narrowness of the space afforded extra room along the sides for what I thought to be dorm rooms, as there were a good dozen or so doors along each side. How they managed to fill up this much space I hadn't the slightest idea, but I did not ask the servant. The only sound in the corridor was our shoes clicking and clomping against the decorated stone floor.

As we walked I took in the hallway itself. It was far less tall than the grand hall, though I would have imagined that was in part because the grand hall reached up to the very top of the building itself. Here it was a more manageable height, though it was in all honesty no less grand than the hall itself. Paintings lined the walls between each door, depicting knights like those my father used to tell me about in stories, charging on horseback into raging beasts… wyverns generally. Other's depicted famous historical scenes, most of which I only vaguely recalled from half-remembered history lessons, like that of William the Bastard leading his Norman-Drakes at the battle of Hastings.

In other places, there were statues placed in alcoves, some busts of past students or school members, even full-sized statues of figures of… some renown I was sure. The servant eventually came to a stop at the far end of the hall, to his right was a large wooden door, the only thing distinguishing it from the rest was that it is sat nearest to the corner of the hallway, giving it easy access to a carved nook situated beneath the tall windows that allowed for a view outside.

Without a word, the servant bowed his head and opened the door, and I took the invitation to step inside. It was...

Horrific.

The room was half the size of my entire home, and was disgustingly ornate. A tall and wide bed sat against the far right corner, covered in plush sheets and blankets as it sat a good four feet above the floor itself. A window was just to its left, pouring moonlight into the room and revealing that the place had its own dresser, mirror, two chairs and a rug that more than likely cost more than any of the coo I had sold to get here.

I stared at it, not saying a word as the door was closed behind me. A fireplace sat in the far left corner, sealed with an empty rack of wood beside it. Beyond that, and a large closet, it was empty, but what was there was… enough. Taking slow steps forward I unbuttoned my best and tossed it onto one of the nearby chairs, my hand reaching out to press against the mattress of the bed.

…

"Why in the name that is good and proper would someone need three pillows on a single person bed?"

---

To say I slept well that night would be like saying a goat was a sheep. In that some concepts are similar, but little else. There was sleep, it was far from good. I was awoken later than I was used to by a knock on the door, and before I could even start to respond to it the door swung open, revealing a rather pretty young woman in a maid's outfit staring down at me.

Not for the reasons one might expect however, no, she wasn't looking down on me because I wasn't fitting in very well, or even that I was the superior breed of the Isle. It's because I was sleeping on the floor. The blankets from the bed were laid out beneath me, one (and the only one I needed) of pillows situated behind my head as I used the sheets as an actual blanket on top of myself.

"Why are you… sleeping on the floor sir?" the maid asked.

I slowly raised a hand to rub at my eyes, then gestured to the now ransacked bed. "If ah were to lay down in that thin', ya'd never see me again. Ah'd be swallowed up like Jonah i' the whale."

The maid's lips drew into a thin line, but she didn't comment on the state I had left the room in. Instead, she stepped away from the door. "We have prepared a bath and fresh clothing for you sir."

"Well thank ya kindly." I grumbled as I sat up, one hand moving to run down my face before I stumbled after her. The maid's eyes briefly looked me up and down, for what reason I couldn't say given that I was still wearing my clothes, then turned on the spot and led me away. It was a short walk to the bathroom, a surprisingly private space not far away from my bedroom. I was, admittedly, expecting something more… public, given that I was in a dorm space. But it was indeed private, with a bath full of hot water and an entire set of… not sure what I was supposed to call them exactly, cleaning products I supposed.

In any case. I took my time to relax… I hadn't had a hot bath in quite some time.

---

The bed was too soft, the soaps were too flowery, and the clothing they prepared for me was…

I patted down the light blue patterned tunic I was wearing. I would call myself a fop if I didn't feel like I was doing fops everywhere a great disservice in my choice of dress. A light blue tunic, a pair of black trousers, and a pair of rather tight shoes I had trouble getting on. It did however seem to be made with something approaching practicality in mind, in that the trousers were cut as to allow riding an animal easier, and the tunic was padded with cloth on the inside far more than one would normally see. I also took the time to shave, because if I was to look like a fop I might as well go all the way. That, and I hadn't had an excuse to do so in quite some time.

I walked into the grand hall, idly rubbing at my smooth chin, not quite used to the feeling of bare flesh there. Morrigan was already present, situated at the same seat she was the night prior. What had changed was her choice in apparel. Gone was the dress she wore so well yesterday, today instead she was dressed in a tunic quite similar to my own. So similar, in fact, that were it not for the fact that her fiery red hair was on clear display I may have not recognized her, given how it bulked up her figure while hiding her more feminine features.

I knew precious little about wyverns, but I would have imagined that when it comes to riding the beasts, that ideas of 'fashion' go out the door rather quickly. Not when the hulking animals could breathe fire and can give you a skull-knocking that would make a bull tuck its tail in shame.

"You shaved." Morrigan said, idly bouncing her foot off the ground.

It wasn't a question, but I deigned to answer anyway. "Aye, wouldn't do me well to let Beithir burn my beard off. Where are the rest of the students?"

The grand hall, barring myself and her, was empty. There wasn't any food left out, or anything in the way of servants either. I did not think I had seen any students the night before either, but at the time I hadn't thought much of it.

Morrigan lowered the cup and gestured for me to sit. "Out of season, all of my students are back home with their parents. We keep the training towards the colder months of the year, the heat does poorly for them in their armor, not to mention the wyverns in their barding."

I nodded and took the offered seat, leaning back against the headrest and idly kicking my leg against the floor. "And yerself?"

"I live here, of course, the school is also my home." Morrigan gestured at her 'dining room.' Gaudy or not, she had better china than me.

I smiled, slightly. "Aye, it's nice of what ah've seen of it, perhaps a bit big for my tastes."

"I would imagine, why my servants have told me the most awful rumor, that you slept on the floor. Nothing true about that I hope." Morrigan asked, looking rather desperate for me to refute that.

I shook my head. "Aye, ah did. The room was… pleasant ah suppose, but the bed was far from nice."

Morrigan arched a brow, one hand lightly tapping on the table even as one of the servants approached out of the corner of my vision with a loaded tray. "Those beds are some of the finest to be had."

"Aye, and if they are the finest then ah'm terrified to see what Londoners consider the worst." I replied as the servant poured Morrigan a cup of coffee; steaming as a drunkard after divorce, and black as the earl of hell's waistcoat.

Morrigan's eyes narrowed. "Jock."

I simply smiled. "Mick."

"Eggs sirs?" the butler offered, making us both turn our heads to the offered breakfast.

"Of course." Morrigan replied.

Breakfast was with little conversation.

---

Morrigan pushed open the doors to the aviary, and I am not ashamed to admit I gawked. The structure was even larger up close, and I stared in amazement at the fact that an entire forest had been built on the property. Hundreds, if not thousands of trees filled the interior, ranging from proud oaks to mighty pines that nearly scratched the ceiling. I walked forward dumbly after Morrigan as she entered, the doors shutting behind us as we walked.

The first thing that hit me was the sound of birds, dozens of them chirping away inside the aviary. The second thing was a distant waterfall, and my head turned to see a massive font of water coming down on the far end of the aviary from a tall cliff face. Rocks lined that entire side of the glass, allowing a rather dominant view of the area below to anyone who managed to get up there. Closer to myself was a series of small buildings and various bits of equipme-

My musings were interrupted by a roar, and a familiar one at that. My head jerked from the buildings towards the treeline as a silver and white wyvern launched itself out of it. It shot upwards like a firework, the light of the sun glistening off of its scales as it screamed through the air. It turned in its climb to be parallel to myself and Morrigan, and I felt my jaw drop as I stared at it, my expression turning into a grin a moment later.

Beithir… was flying.

The wyvern flapped its wings, lurching upward more into the air. As I watched, it pulled its wings back, arching itself into a curve as its legs jutted outwards. With the sound of a muffled boulder hitting stone it came to a perched stop along the cliffside like a bird, and lowered its head back to lightly nip at the blisters along its wings.

"Oi! Don't pick at it ya dumb beast!"

Beithir paused in its nibbling, turning its head all the way back like a snake to look at me. Its knees then bent, and I felt a brief sense of… dread as it shifted its position so that it was facing me across the aviary.

Then it launched itself, with a mighty flap of its wings it was off once more like a bullet.

Barreling straight towards me, mouth glowing.

 

[Erien]

Thanks to @Armoury for the beta!

---

My pastor once mentioned to me that when one saw death approaching, that one was closer to God than at any point in your life. One's life was to fly before their eyes, their sins and virtues put before them in one brief beautiful moment before they were taken by the angels to the place above.

However, as I watched Beithir dive towards me like the Devil bringing all the brimstone of hell cookin' in its mouth. I saw nothing but teeth and flame. The scream that tore from my lips was quite manly, and I leapt back, grabbing Morrigan in the process and threw the both of us onto the ground. A loud whump of the wyvern landing behind me was in contrast to the sound of our bodies bouncing along the dirt. I had twisted myself in the air so that Morrigan would be beneath me, at the very least if the damnable beast burned me alive she wouldn't take much, if any, of it. I stopped there, positioned above her as I waited for the flame, pain, and quick death with my eyes closed.

It never came. I waited a good twenty seconds, the heavy breathing of the beast behind me the only sound until Morrigan let out a cough. Opening my eyes slowly I found her face a few inches from my own with something just between our ches-

Her fist hit me in the nose.

I lurched back, cradling my nose as Morrigan sat back up. Truth be told it didn't particularly hurt, little more than the pain I'd get running into a door. But the sheer suddenness of it threw me for a loop. "Aye, well remind me not to save ya the next time a Wyvern comes around to cook ya and yer nippers."

"I do not," Morrigan said as she stood up and brushed the dirt off of the back of her outfit.
"Have any 'nippers' thank you. Try to use what small little thing up in there constitutes for a brain if you would be so kind, if she wanted you dead she would have killed you long before you made it to Glasgow."

…

Alright, so she did admittedly have a point, and the fact that I was at the time not being shaken around in its jaws or being burned alive was as good a sign as any that Beithir didn't actually wish me any harm. But that didn't mean she's correct either. "If a bull runs towards ya fer a hug, ya don't stand there and just let it make friendly intercourse with yer ribs. Ya get out of the way, the same thing applies for an eight-hundred-pound lizard that can breathe fire."

"I hardly think the situations are comparable." Morrigan replied bluntly.

"Aye, the bull can't destroy a barn by crashing into it from the sky, or breath fire," I said, standing up myself and looking back at the beast as I did so. "Ah'd take the bull any day."

Beithir sat on its legs staring down at me, head tilted to the side as I stared up at it. Licks of flame sputtered at the sides of its mouth as it breathed, a good sign that the wound on its chest was finally, truly on the mend. Reaching into my pocket I pulled out the small jar of ointment, then pointed down at the ground. "Well lay down ya dumb beast, can't expect me to climb ya like a tree now can ye?"

Beithir lets out a snort that I would swear is sarcastic, before it laid its long neck down onto the grass, its tongue flicking out to taste the air briefly even as the small jets of flame set the tallest stalks alight.

Morrigan stepped forward as I got to work at the joints of its wings, her shoe patting down the burning grass to put it out. Not without commentary, of course. "I see it has truly warmed to you quickly. Most of my students couldn't get one so obedient in twice the time."

I turned back to look at her from where I had transitioned from rubbing the ointment between its wings to applying it below the chest plate, one hand was rubbing at the now healed wound, while the other was lightly scratching the beast beneath the chin to keep it calm. "Aye? What makes ya say that."

Morrigan gave me a wry smile but didn't follow up, instead changing the subject. "Are you ready to try riding it?"

I stop rubbing Beithir and fully turn to look at the woman, ignoring the feeling of the Wyvern pressing its snout against my back. "Should there be lessons or learnin' how to proper take care of it first?"

Morrigan arched a brow. "If you don't enjoy the act of riding it there won't be much point in the lessons. Most of my students had experience riding as children, you don't. Therefore you need to see if you can actually enjoy it before I will bother training you." She then pointed off towards one of the buildings near the entrance. "I had one of the staff put your equipment in there, get dressed quickly."

I could see the point in that, though it did still seem like a rather rapid leap into danger. But then again, I rather heavily doubted there were any particularly safe aspects of wyvern riding. Still, it was rather sudden. With one last look at Beithir I nodded at Morrigan and stepped past her into the building she pointed out. It was, in all honesty, little more than a stone shack. A simple building with one door and one window pressed against the walls that make up the aviary. Inside there was little more than a series of stalls with curtains, all closed. At first glance, I assumed they were for changing, and the fact that one at the far end was open with my 'equipment' hanging on racks supported that theory. Walking over I stepped inside, and the stall was thankfully large enough for me to both step in and move around.

The equipment, on the other hand, was… well, to be honest, I wasn't sure what I was expecting. There wasn't any need to remove any of the clothing I was wearing, as all of the equipment on offer was meant to go over what I was already wearing. A breastplate sat on a bench, silvery metal glinting in the faint light afforded by the sun in this narrow space. Right beside it was some form of helmet, kind of like what I saw in the pictures as a child, though while those had a full-frontal covering of metal, this one was some form of mesh. I picked it up experimentally, turning it this way and that in my hands before I found the mechanism to open it. The entire front opened on a hinge so that you could place it down over your head and then close it shut over you.

The other pieces of equipment were some form of metal… boots that look like they go over my shoes, and a pair of metal gloves that look like they would go up to my elbows. I lifted them up, looking them over before placing them aside. Grabbing the breastplate I placed it over myself, it slid down easily, and I tightened the straps at my side, little more than strings, before stepping into the metal boots. They… took a bit more effort, namely, I got them about halfway on before I had to resort to kicking the wall to force the rest of my foot in. Fortunately once in they were snug but workable. The gloves slid on easily over the clothes I was already wearing, just like the rest, and I tucked the helmet underneath my arm and walked outside, clanking like a damn blacksmith's shop all the while.

Two things hit me as I stepped back outside, the sun for starters, the contrast between the dark interior of the shack and the bright focused light of the aviary was striking. The second was a saddle, it hit me in the face specifically, and I scrambled to catch it before it hit the ground.

"Get it on your wyvern." Morrigan said, and I lowered the caught saddle to find her staring at me. Beithir for its part was still laying down on the ground, looking at me curiously. I stared at Beithir a moment, then at the saddle again. The actual seat was near identical to a horse saddle, with the benefit of a piece of leather sticking up a good two feet in the back that I would imagine was made to keep the rider from falling off when the beast decided to go vertical. A pair of stirrups draped around the front and given by the positioning of the straps…

"The straps are made to loop around its wing joints?" I asked.

"They are, you can pull on the reins to give the wyvern an idea of where you want to go. On a breed such as this, the neck is far too narrow to hold a saddle, though larger breeds do allow it." Morrigan replies.

I turned the awkward thing over in my hand. To my relief, the actual straps were padded on the inside instead of bare leather, which meant that it wouldn't rub too bad on the beast's still-raw joints. I still didn't want to keep this on it very long mind, but for a short amount of time it would be fine. Shrugging, I walked past Morrigan and approached the beast. As I did so it flapped its wings once, then stuck them out to the side. "Eager to saddle are ya?"

"Your wyvern trusts you." Morrigan said, sounding rather amused.

"Still ain't sure why, not treated it any different than my coos." I said, hosting the saddle up and onto its back. Kneeling down to figure out the straps once it was on.

"Taking her away from her former owner did wonders, I would imagine. Do you require help?" Morrigan asks.

I shook my head as I tightened the strap, stepping over the beast's back to do the other side. "Think I've got it figured out. How am I meant to mount it exactly?"

"A gentleman would at least have dinner first." Morrigan quips, now sounding amused for the first time this morning.

I raised my head and looked towards Morrigan, snapping the strap into place as I did so. Beithir, seeing that I was no longer focusing on it, turned its head as well to stare at Morrigan.

"Just hop onto it, Jock," Morrigan explained. "If it bucks you then try again."

I nodded, placed the helmet over my head, then looked over at the wyvern. I grabbed the knob at the front of the saddle, gripping it tightly before I swung myself up and onto it. Beithir yelped as my arse hit the saddle. It lurched up onto its legs, then bucked backwards. I held onto the knob for dear life, my back hitting the back of the saddle as the beast attempted to throw me off. "Calm yerse-"

My words were cut-off as with a mighty flap of its wings Beithir fully lurched back and tossed me off onto the ground. I grunted, but the breastplate actually did its job to absorb most of the impact. I rolled a second after I landed, the same instincts that trained me not to get stepped on by an angry coo kicking in. I then got up into a crouch, only to hear Morrigan laughing.

"It may take several attempts. But a good first effort."

I glared at her, then idly reached up to readjust the helmet I was wearing. Beithir, for its part, was staring at me, slightly crouched with its wings flared at its side. Its eyes were narrow slits, and its tail was lightly tapping on the ground behind it.

"Aye, playtime is it?" I asked the beast, lightly tapping my fist into my palm. "Like I told ya on the train ya damned beast, yer dealin' with a Scot!" with that I charged forward, Beithir leaned back, getting its head out of the way as I sprinted past it. A brief heat of flame covered me as I ran by, and I didn't need to look back to tell that part of the grass was aflame. I didn't, in fact, look back at all as I grasped the side of the saddle and leaped up and onto the beast. This time I took no chances, slamming my legs tight around its side as I grabbed onto the reins and tugged.

Beithir roared, flame spitting out of its mouth as it bucked underneath me. I didn't give, my feet sliding into the stirrups as I pulled the reins harder. Beithir bucked and spun in place, trying to get me off of it. Then, with a rush of air, it flapped its wings particularly harshly, and I felt an awful lurch as I realized I was leaving the ground. A shout of fright escaped my lips as the ground suddenly moved away, and I held on for dear life as with another mighty flap of its wings it started rocketing upwards towards the glass ceiling of the aviary.

Beithir let out another roar as we climbed, and I tugged the reins to the right. As I did, the left wing raised and the right one lowered, and the rapid climb turned into a sharp curve that hugged the western wall of the aviary itself. "Calm yerself, Beithir!" I shouted over the roaring beast. "Ah ain't once hurt ya!"

Beithir's wings tense, and I nearly lost my grip on the reins as it twists in the air, blood rushing to my head as I found myself suddenly and violently upside down. The only thing keeping me from falling being that my knees were digging into its sides. It righted itself a moment later, turning into a steep dive over the trees. "CALM YERSELF!"

I yanked back on the reins, pulling it back into a climb before a tug to right made it fly past the waterfall. "Now stop ya dumb beast!" I shouted, attempting to pull back instead of up on the reins. Thankfully like a horse it did so, flapping its wings rapidly and coming to a hovering stop over the rocks. I let out a breath, then several more as I felt my heart threaten to pound so hard it would break my ribs. "Nice and calm now are ya?" I asked.

In response Beithir turned its serpent head back to look at me, tongue darting out of its mouth as its yellow-gold eyes focused on me.

"Arthur!" Morrigan called out, and both myself and the wyvern turned to look at her. She is making a snapping motion with her hands, both fists rising and falling at the same time as she mimics holding a rein.

… Alright.

Looking back at Beithir I nodded, then snapped my hands, the reins lightly slapping the wings. The third scream of the day tore from my lips a moment later as Beithir dips its head and took off like a firework, its powerful wings flapping rapidly at its side before it tucked them to the side, turning itself into an arrow as it screamed through the air. I tugged on the reins to curve it to the right around the glass wall, my back slamming into the seat from the sheer speed of its movement.

I could feel the wind on my face as if the helmet wasn't even slowing it down. With another snap of the reins, the beast repeated the motion, going even faster as I pulled it up into a climb. "AYE, YER ENJOYIN' FLIGHT AREN'T YA BEITHIR!" I shouted.

I then tugged the reins as far right as I could, making the beast start to roll into a dive towards the ground. A strangled sound tore from my throat as we gained speed, something part mortal terror, and the rest laughter! I pulled up just as we were about to hit the trees to bring it into a glide over them. The sound of breaking branches filled my ears, as did what almost sounded like a happy trill coming from the wyvern's throat.

This is magical.

This is flight.

This is-

---

With another lurch I emptied the contents of the morning's breakfast into the bucket, gripping the pail for dear life in an effort not to fall to the ground from lack of balance. My vision swam as the slime and bile filled it, and I felt a sense of palpable relief as the last of my breakfast finally left me. Wiping my mouth with the metal gauntlet I looked up to see Morrigan a fair distance away, standing next to Beithir.

Beithir for its part was watching me as curiously as it always did, while Morrigan was looking distinctly amused.

"So, did you enjoy wyvern riding?" She asked.

"This is the worst I've ever felt in my entire life," I groaned, forcing myself onto unsteady feet. My vision swam briefly. "I'm goin' again."

 

[Erien]

Thanks to @Armoury for the beta!

---

A week had passed since my first flight. A week filled with training, drills, lessons and study. Oh, sweet Saint Columba above the amount of study there was to do. Anatomy, flight theory, aerodin… airodyke? Air theory. Feeding practice, grooming practice, this, that, and the other thing as well, and honest as God's truth it was starting to be a fair bit overwhelming. In just one week, the stack of books next to my desk was starting to reach up to my hip, and each was weighty enough that I could probably grab one and beat Beithir to death with it. Admittedly she would probably maul me after the first hit, but it was the principle of the matter, not the actual ability.

The point of the matter, as I sat back in my chair and stared at the heavy tome in front of me, was that I was exhausted from studying. With a tired hand, I reached past the book to retrieve my pipe from its holder -a simple wooden thing- and with a sigh, I pushed myself back up from the desk and made my way over to the window. With a simple push, it swung open letting the salty air from the channel filter into the room and tickle my nose. I grimaced slightly but leaned out the window regardless. I wasn't quite used to the scent of saltwater, and it has yet to grow pleasant to my senses. It doesn't help that it managed to almost completely drown any scent of nature beyond that of the aviary, though that may just be how new I am to being near the ocean. Scotland, while never particularly far from the ocean at any place, usually had enough hills to keep the smell of the brine away.

That, and the general scents of the farm I supposed. Leaning out the window I lit the pipe, the taste of tobacco filling my mouth a moment later before I breathed it out. One nice point of living near the big cities is, at least, cheaper tobacco compared to home. I had given up the art of smoking entirely at home, not so much here. Of course, here I'm not allowed to smoke in my room or on the grounds, something put in place due to Morrigan's personal preferences. Hence why I was currently leaning out of my room over the grounds. I smiled around the pipe, idly glancing about the grounds. I didn't particularly have the funds to afford the tobacco, truth be told I didn't much have the funds for anything. But I don't have much future to worry about either, it was, as far as I figured, quite simple. I either succeeded in my goal to make the money back to pay off Wellbrook, or I became a homeless worker in London. I wouldn't be the first, I damn well wouldn't be the last, and I was determined to at least get some small enjoyment as I could while my meals were being provided for me along with room and board. Tapping the pipe against the window frame a moment I glanced back at the room. The mattress was laying on the floor, blankets set atop it. Morrigan insisted I sleep on it, but the silly mick never specified how.

The moon illuminated the room well enough, more than the faintly flickering candle sitting on the desk. Its orange light cast odd shadows onto the tan pages of the book, and I watched it dance briefly before moving my gaze toward the mannequin standing just beyond it. It was dressed in my armor and helmet, proudly displaying some dents and scratches from the times when Beithir got a rather amusing opinion about whether or not I should be allowed to ride her. The beast had taken to me well, but she had a stubborn streak to her like a horse that needed to be broken. Of course, I could just use a twitch on a horse if it was feeling particularly feisty, Beithur would most likely set it on fire and then myself, possibly not in that order. Beithir was fast but hard to control, very… temperamental, but she seemed to calm down well enough once I actually mounted her.

Walking forward I slid my hand over the desk, idly running my hand over the open book before closing it and dousing the candle with my fingers. The room fell into darkness, the only illumination being the moonlight coming through the window. But the darkness was something I was used to, it wasn't like my original home had a great number of candles either. Continuing my walk I grabbed my outfit from the mannequin, then made my way out the door.

If it wasn't to be a night of study, it would be of training. If I had to spend one more bleeding moment reading about the theoretical theories of theoretical practices by Mr Pendragon I would more than likely use the pile of pages for kindling. At the very least, the hallways were quite pretty to look at at night; the moonlight poured in through the giant windows, illuminating the tiled floor and the statues. It was beautiful, and it was a private pleasure I had come to enjoy in this place, if only because -with the lack of students- I was the only person around at this time of night. Barring Morrigan, but as far as I was aware she was situated far away on a higher floor. With the help in their rooms, there was no one to bother me as I took an evening stroll through the building. The shadows of the night stretched and morphed the statues as I walked by, somehow making them taller and grander in obscurity as I moved down the hall. I stared at their white faces as I passed, a few now recognized to me… but none I was particularly impressed with. All were former students, and all went on to do this or that, attained some titles or made riches.

I would be happy just getting the farm back.

Not to say the image did not dance in my mind as I stepped into the lobby and then outside; Arthur Adair, the greatest wyvern rider to ever grace the land! The thought brought a chuckle out of me as I walked. All boys had dreams like that when they were younger, now there was just far too much to do, but I would for the time being enjoy the situation I was put in. With a smile on my face, I made my way into the stables, and I had to admit that they were a fair bit better than the one I had the misfortune of seeing back in London.

It was, in effect, a long and wide tunnel. Easily a good three to four dozen feet across and four to five times as long. The floor was dirt with stone walls surrounding it, and spaced a good distance apart on either side was a row of cages built into the walls themselves. Unlike the stone floor of the stables in London, these were dirt, allowing the wyverns inside of them to rest comfortably. The entire structure was in barest essence a straight line with two large openings on either end that could be closed with an iron gate. The reason for this particular setup was only revealed to me the first time I had to fetch Beithir from here; so that a wyvern could step out, and assuming the gates were open, sprint down the track and lift off the moment they were outdoors.

A rather smart system, and rather more humane. I'd have rather kept my wyvern in the aviary if at all possible, but that was running on a schedule of wyverns being allowed in it at certain times, and then only alone. As two wyverns trapped in there together could get territorial, and as I have been taught, a territorial wyvern tends to set things on fire… and the aviary is full of trees. So, for reasons of sanity and landscaping, the wyverns instead spent most of their time in the stable, or, if multiple wyverns were in the aviary, their riders had to be with them at all times.

A low growl filled my ears, and I realized that I had stopped in front of Carnelian's cage. The beast staring at me was nearly a third again as large as Beithir, and a helluva lot meaner as well. Bright red skin with a tan underbelly, its golden eyes stared at me as I quickened my pace. The two horns on its head, signifying it to be a… frankly I didn't recall, it wasn't a brute, but it wasn't a 'swift-drake' as Beithir was called either. All that mattered was the giant hulk of meat and flame was best off far away from me, and I found myself walking rather quickly up to Beithir's cage. Her head lifted as I approached, Beithir had apparently been resting it on her own stomach, and I watched as she unfurled herself to look at me, blinking in a way I had learned was meant to be curiosity. The cell that Beithir found herself in was rather large, a good thirty feet in every direction to allow the occupant movement, you are separated by a sturdy iron cage with a rather complicated gate and a far simpler human-sized door.

"Well good evening Beithir, all rested from the flight earlier?"

She tilted her head, tongue darting out to taste the air as I reached for the door to the cage. With a click of the handle and a shunk of the latch, it swung open. I got about halfway into the paddock before Beithir stood up on her two legs and lumbered over to me. I grinned at that, idly reaching up to pet her snout while looking her over.

"Wounds just about healed up on yer wings, gonna leave a scar sadly. Feeling good?" Beithir let out a loud 'huffing' sound that I'd taken to equate with a cat's purr, and I doubled the speed of my rubbing on her snout. "Well now, glad ta' hear it, up fer a ride this evenin'?"

"I'm starting to think you enjoy her company." Morrigan said from behind me.

I jumped, then jerked my head back to see her staring at me from behind the bars. "Ya need to stop doin' that ya damned cutpurse."

Morrigan smiles, slightly. "What would that be?"

"Sneaking 'round like some fox trying to get at the hens."

The Irish-woman rolled her eyes. "I wasn't 'sneaking around,' I was checking on Carnelian."

"Aye, ah'm sure," I replied, then turned around to face her. Beithir snorted, and I felt her tongue lick the back of my hand as I answered her question. "An' why wouldn't I?"

"It did destroy your livelihood." Morrigan responds.

"She was just a scared animal, ah particularly big one, but still just an animal. 'Sides, hatin' her won't fix the shed now will it?"

Morrigan makes a non-committal noise, not replying for a moment before she looks down the track towards the southern entrance. "I've entered you for the tournament in London, it's the start of the season for them, so you'll be doing one after another."

I arched a brow. "I assume there is a payout for this?"

"There is," Morrigan responded, looking back at me as she spoke. "I'm surprised you aren't asking why I signed you up for it."

"Ah need the money to pay off Wellbrook. Ah don't have a choice, ah either get good enough to make some money or Beithir goes back to that bampot. Frankly ah'm willin' to do anythin' needed to become a good enough rider to accomplish that. Ah was plannin' on taking Beithir out on a night-time ride over the channel if that was alright, have yet to take her out at night and ah figured me and 'er could use the exercise." I asked.

"Alright, but tomorrow we are starting with the obstacle course." Morrigan responds.

I stared at her. "There's an obstacle course?"

Morrigan only smirked and walked away, leaving me alone with the wyvern poking her nose into my back. Well.

Something to look forward to at least.

---

Beithir let out a happy trill as she stretched her wings, her powerful feet thudding on the ground as we made our way out of the stables. I was now fully armored, with Beithir's reins in my grip as I got her up to speed. With each passing moment, she grew faster and faster, the loud thump of her feet getting louder and longer along the ground as she tucked her wings tighter and tighter to her sides. The moment before we reached the threshold she leapt forward, her wings extending then slamming down towards the earth, and with a rush of wind we were off in the air.

Beithir did not take off with the rapid flaps of a bird, no, she took off like a bullet in flight. One large burst of power, then her wings tucked at her sides as she used the speed she gained on the ground to propel herself into the air. Once she cleared the treetops I jerked the reins to the right and Beithir responded immediately. Her body tilted, one wing extended as she curved around to the right and towards the water. I then snapped the reins back, causing her to pull into a climb, with just the right amount of pressure from my legs on her midsection her wings start to flap rapidly, the wyvern gaining more speed despite the climb I was currently leading her into.

The wind whistled by my ears as the earth got farther and farther below me, and with another -harder- press of my legs she slammed her wings into the air, lifting so rapidly that I rose out of my stirrups briefly. Then we hit the clouds; foggy, wet, freezing air passing by as she tore through them. It was a matter of seconds before we were through them, and once we were I pushed my feet down on the stirrups, telling Beithir to level out and slow down, spreading her wings as wide as they could go to glide along. Controlling a wyvern was a lot like controlling a horse, a horse that moved in three dimensions and had a bad attitude. Reaching down I patted Beithir's neck lightly, and a small jet of flame escaped her mouth. Here, above the clouds, I was soaking wet, and even through my armor and underlayers I could feel the chill setting into my fingers... but it was beautiful, and I spent a good few moments gazing up at the stars before I let out a whoop and pressed my knees into her sides again. "Alright girl, give me some speed."

She didn't need the encouragement. She started to rapidly beat her wings, angling her body down slightly as she gained speed in the air. Then, with a brief twist of the reins, she snapped them against her size, diving down through the clouds and slamming me back against the saddle. The helmet shifted, pressed against my face as I held onto the reins for dear life. With the construction of the saddle, I was in no actual danger of falling out from this maneuver, but as Beithir started adding rolls and loops into her flight without my supervision, it didn't help the fact that I was currently feeling mightily close to god.

The beast was happy to dance through the clouds, flames spewing out of her mouth as she twisted and turned. We burst through the bottom of them like an erupting beast from the dirt, water stinging my eyes as we tore through the night air. I was laughing, a true, joyful sound that could barely be heard over the rushing winds as we flew over the water. Dover was a good ways behind us now, and I pulled at the reins to slow Beithir down. The faint moonlight over the channel's waters was beautiful, and the faint orange light off in the distance in the water caught my eyes.

…

That was a ship on fire.

 

[Erien]

Thanks to @Armoury for the beta!

---

Of all of the places I had woken up over the years; the barn, the wagon, a relatively comfy patch of grass near the pens, I was rather proud to say that the inside of the constable's mansion was, up to that point, not on my list. Admittedly that was partially because the constable lived a good three miles away in town and he was a fat and lazy bastard at the best of times. It was also because I didn't have a habit of getting into trouble, but unfortunately, it would seem wyverns both cause and land me into trouble.

The sense of grogginess that I would expect wasn't there as I opened my eyes, and beyond a dull pain in my head, there was little evidence that… I blinked. Staring at the cell illuminated by morning sunlight behind me. The thin rays lit up a small room, little more than maybe five feet in any given direction, with a small cot off to the side and a bucket beside it. The floor was broken stone, and the walls weren't in a much better state. But my surprise wasn't caused by the luxury of my accommodations. It was the fact that there was sunlight streaming in behind me, which means that unless I was dead I fell asleep. I vaguely recalled waking up while they were dragging me away, but it's all foggy after that. Which, I suppose should be considered a blessing, I've seen a horse kick a man in the head, the bludgeon from the constable was only slightly kinder.

The light was golden at the very least, which means that unless something was well and truly wrong with southern England that it was morning. My nose twitched as the scent of the room hit me, and I grimaced towards the far end of the room. There, running from wall to wall was a series of iron bars with a door set into it. Pressing against the floor I was glad to find I wasn't chained down, and with a stumbling walk, I made my way over to the bars. The gambeson I still had on was soaked and damp, whether from sweat or from the waters of the channel I couldn't tell. It smelled like salt water, but then, so did everything else about myself. At least I didn't sleep in the breastplate, I'd have been lucky to be able to move at all. My hands grasped the bars, steadying myself… and I found myself staring directly into the face of Morrigan. She wasn't in nightclothes anymore, which does mean she probably got a more fitful sleep than I did. She also looked pissed, but that I was at least used to. That, and I was angrier than she was.

When I spoke I was barely above a growl, though it wasn't her I was angry with. "Is the woman okay?"

Morrigan's eyes widened for a brief moment as she was apparently surprised by that being the first thing out of my mouth. Then she nodded. "Yes. Badly burned but the doctor says she'll make it. She's lucky she was so close to the school, the doctor keeps good burn remedies around."

"Ah wouldn't call 'er lucky." I replied. "Luck when relatin' an injury implies a miracle, and no god of mine is gonna put someone in the path of a flamin' wyvern. How long are they keepin' me in here?"

"You are free to leave," Morrigan answered. "I spoke to the constables and they have been made to understand that you didn't know the local laws, and that you were attempting to save the life of an injured woman. They have… little patience for wyvern riders."

"Aye? I'm feelin' precious little patience for them myself." I replied. "One tortured his wyvern enough that it broke free and burned down my property. Others let them roam free when they get too big and solve the homeless problem. An' now ah find that there's some that decide to burn ships and buildings to test the heat of the flame of their beasts."

With a metal shunk the door to my cell unlocked, and Morrigan stepped back with a brass key in her hand. Pushing my hand forward I swung the door open, stumbling out of my cell and into the long stone hallway. "Ah don't know what form of operation ya have runnin' here. But ah'm afraid to say I'm not the biggest fan."

Morrigan frowned. "None of my students would do such a thing."

"Well I haven't met any of them have I?" I replied, then stumbled past her towards… somewhere. I assumed the entrance.

A hand on my arm stopped my walk, and I found myself forcefully spun around to face the irate irish woman. "Listen yeh stupid scot, A've about as much control over the London idjits as you do so don' be getting' mad at me about 'em. Ay got yeh out of that damn cell, so the least yeh can do is be polite, be quiet, and walk with me back to the school before Ay beat yer head in against these bars and lock ye back in!"

…

"Aye, sounds fair," I replied. I had seen her angry before, I had never seen her so angry that she lost the proper accent she liked to put on. "Sorry about that."

Morrigan stared at me for a few long moments before nodding. "Forgiven. Now steady yourself, the carriage is just outside."

I nodded, pressing my arm against the wall to draw in a few breaths once she let go of me. My vision, previously swimming from the sudden movement, cleared, and I could make out the 'lobby' at the far end of the hallway and the door to the outside world. "Where's… where's Beithir?"

"Back at the school," Morrigan replied. "She's fine, the constables didn't have anywhere to keep her so I volunteered."

Well, that's good, I halfway expected the local boys to have butchered her for meat. "Good, sure she's missed me." I replied, a small smile coming onto my face as I did so. The smile only grew as we stepped outside, and I relished the transition from the dingy interior of the jail to the bright and beautiful morning. It still smelled rotten of the city, but anything was better than where I was. I stepped forward firmly onto the cobblestones, looking down the street towards the hills beyond the town. The school wasn't visible from here, too far back for that. But the golden morning light glinted off of the aerodrome and painted the surrounding buildings in colors like the stained glass of a church. It was a pretty sight, and it being the weekend and relatively early the sounds of the nearby ocean crashing against the shore was just about the only sound beyond the distant shouts of the dockworkers who didn't know sleep, and the horse knocking its hooves against the ground in front of me.

I stared at the large draft and the fancy carriage behind it. "Ya sure ya want me to ride in your carriage?" it was about as fancy as the rich bastard back in London, and you were currently filthy.

"Please do not ask that question. If I stop to think about it I may make you walk back to the school Arthur." Morrigan responded, stepping past me to open the door and step inside while doing so.

"Once again, fair enough." I replied, then stepped up after her and settled in the seat across from the woman. On some hidden signal the man up front started the carriage moving, and I held onto the bench as it started shaking and bouncing on the cobbled road. Beyond the clack of the wheels on the road the journey was quiet, and it was only about a half-hour into it that one of us spoke again, Morrigan specifically.

"What precisely do you mean to accomplish Arthur?"

"A shower when we get back," I replied. "Though ah feel that wasn't what you were askin'."

"Your deal with Wellbrook, assuming you even win a tournament to collect the prize money. What do you plan to do then? You certainly don't enjoy the life."

I snorted. "Ah enjoy ridin' wyverns just fine Morrigan. It's the nobles and boat burners ah have problems with. Once ah get the money to buy Beithir ah'm going to use the remaining funds to rebuild my farm then set 'er loose."

"Highly illegal and highly dangerous with a full-sized wyvern." Morrigan replied, an edge to her voice.

"Set 'er loose in the pens then. She can protect the coos from the whipper-drakes." I said. "Ah ain't gonna let her loose in a forest regardless. But she deserves more than ah cage, even a coo bound for slaughter isn't kept in one long term."

Morrigan let out a long slow breath, her gaze turning towards the windows. "The first tournament is a race, do you think you can handle that?"

I smiled. "Aye, I think I can handle that."

---

*Two months later*

---

My hand ran along Beithir's snout, the wyvern letting out a soft trilling sound as my fingers ran along the ridges. Her tongue darted out to briefly lick at my fingers before she turned her head to look at me.

"Excited girl?" I asked.

The wyvern blinked, then looked forward again as the platform we were standing on lurched. With a loud hiss of steam and a screech of metal, the elevator started to rise. The stable previously visible all around me disappeared from view, and I glanced up to see the ceiling a good fifty feet above me slowly start to slide open. The transition from the darkness of the elevator shaft caused by it rising, to the almost punishing brightness of the noon sun pouring almost directly down into it was striking, and I raised my gauntleted hand to block it as best as I could as we rose steadily upwards.

The light only made the barding Beithir was draped in glint all the more beautifully. The silver wyvern was bedecked in blue cloth with golden edging, it ran along her entire frame from the base of the neck near the horns to drape over the wings then split just at the base of the tail. It was beautiful silken fabric, and Beithir seemed to actually rather enjoy having it on… given how long it took to get it back off of her the first time she had a dress rehearsal. Across the top of the fabric was the print of a golden rose in the grip of a raven, the symbol of the school. Unlike the other wyvern riders I saw around I didn't have my family crest on the barding… mostly because I had to borrow some barding from Morrigan due to not being able to afford my own.

Still, the wyvern looked good, and that seems to be the point. I didn't exactly have a family to advertise anyway. The cheering crowd broke me from my contemplation, and I looked up again as the elevator lurched to a stop. I stood along with a good dozen other wyvern riders in what was basically a gigantic oval. It was several hundred yards from end to end, and maybe a hundred yards wide. Extended from it were stands, stacked atop each other with each higher section a bit further back. Above all of them mounted on truly gargantuan poles was a gigantic and thick net that ran over the top of the structure, in it… it was probably the largest building in England by my reckoning.

Of course, that was just the stands and the dirt. Sprouting up from the dirt was a series of large rings held aloft by poles. Each space a few dozen yards apart and creating a sort of 'path' around the arena. The race, as it has been explained to you multiple times, was a timed event, where each rider was to make solo laps through the rings three times, and the best time overall continues onto the main event where everyone that qualified races against each other all at the same time.

Frankly, it sounds like a mess, but the crowd loved it… and Beithir had been eager to show just how fast she is for some time now. I stared up at the crowd, tightening my gauntlets without looking before reaching for Beithir's reins. I let the cheering wash through me, the energy was damn infectious, and I found a rather unfamiliar giddiness in my voice when I leaned down to speak to Beithir. "Let's show 'em what two Scotsmen can do aye?"

 

[Erien]

Thanks to @Armoury for the beta!

---

My gaze panned over the crowd, and I couldn't help but be surprised at the sheer variety of the people present within it. Plenty of the rich types around, like those I saw in the one area of London I visited previously, but mixed around them in their own sections are a decidedly more working-class sort, those who wore their overalls for work, and just about everywhere else they could get away with it except for church. No farmers though, that much I could have guessed without looking. Frankly I still wasn't sure what I was doing myself, several hundred miles away from home, on the back of a giant scaled beast, ready to fly faster than god ever intended for the amusement of a roaring crowd and the chance of prize money.

I could have rightly been considered insane, but at the moment all I cared about was making placement to the more important events so that I could actually make the money to rebuild my farm. Then, Beithir could do whatever the hell she wanted, and I could get the hell out of London as fast as a train, or possibly Beithir, could take me. But at the moment I was here, I had a wyvern as quick as a whip, and I had roughly two months of training at Morrigan's considerable expense to back me up. Why the woman was so hellbent on lodging me I couldn't say, but I wasn't going to question her charity, even if I was more than a little curious about it at this point. Maybe she just hated rich Londoners?

My thoughts however, were interrupted by a very loud man with a metal megaphone held up to his lips, the same kind I'd seen travelling carnival men use in the past. His voice is joined by several others around the arena as they start to speak in sync to the crowd.

"Ladies and gentleman!" the voices echo. "Welcome to the Southern London Racing Preliminaries!" The announcer nearest to me, a crazily dressed man with a glittering gold-colored vest and equally ugly tophat, gestures to the line of wyvern riders. "The rules are simple! Our brave contestants must take their wyverns and fly through these rings in order one at a time."

It's all the same rules that were explained to me prior so I tuned it out. One rider at a time, go in order, if the rider hits a ring they lose a second of time, if they fall off the wyvern they are fully disqualified and they will probably be marched through the city and pelted with rotten tomatoes. Admittedly none of the people who explained the rules to me mentioned that, but with the level of importance people in this town seem to place upon these events, I would not honestly have been surprised if that was somehow part of it.

Either way, I knew the rules, and the announcers weren't giving me any new information. So instead I just lightly rubbed Beithir's scales and waited for the first race to begin. The wyvern riders around me were all unknown, mostly because from the moment I saw them they were all wearing their helmets, and nobody bothered giving out names beforehand either. Still, they were all impressive, colors of reds, blues, and all others on the spectrum making a dazzling display in the arena. And each had wyverns a good half-again the size of Beithir. Beithir was a small but quick beast, but where I had the speed advantage these blokes probably actually knew what they were doing.

I glanced at them, then at the rings. Each was standing on a tall pole and each ring itself was identically sized to the rest, they should fit Beithir quite easily from what I could tell from here. But the true difficulty is making some of the sharper turns around the edge of the arena. I breathed in deeply to calm down, as there was little to do but… just do it. That, and I tended to notice Beithir responded to my moods, so if I got anxious at all, she got anxious. Which was a rather poor thing for a wyvern to be when I was about to lead her through an obstacle course.

A loud cheer sounds out, and I turn my head to see that they have unveiled the timeboard over the four sides of the arena. On it are a list of names of all the wyvern riders, their times, and the order going from top to bottom that they will race in… and I was dead last, somehow that didn't surprise me. At the very least I could watch and see what others were doing and adjust accordingly. My eyes passed over the list once more, and went wide as I read the first name, my lips moving to mirror what the announcers shout out through their megaphones.

"Crawford Bailey!"

I turn my head slowly to see a large wyvern walk forward towards the starting posts. It was bedecked in blue barding, with green trimming along the edges and a symbol printed along the side that looked rather suspiciously like a coat of arms. A green shield with a blue wyvern wing stretched across it, it billowed as the wyvern moved. Atop it was a man fully bedecked in plate to the point I couldn't actually make out any features. But unless there are two Crawford Bailey's running around, the man on the wyvern was the same one who helped me take care of Beithir all those months ago. Though admittedly, unless he saw my name up there he probably wouldn't recognize me either. Beyond just the plate I myself was wearing, Morrigan had actually made me shave for the day's event.

The brief bit of annoyance I was feeling was wiped away however as a loud whistle sounded throughout the arena, and Crawford took off like a bullet. The wyvern, despite its size, was a fast one, a red streak tearing through the air as it cleared the first, second, and third rings with what seemed like nothing more than one giant leap. I studied its movements as Crawford led it through the first turn, the beast tilted slightly and pulled its wings inward, allowing momentum to pull it around and through the ring at the edge and continue on around the corner in a tight arc over the crowd that had them all cheering. Then, once it had a relatively straight path once more the wings shot back out, slamming hard against the air as it rapidly regained the speed it lost from the turn. Whenever it approached a ring it tucked the wings in, using the speed it gained to sail through it quickly, then flexed the wings out again to regain control. Over and over again as he made one complete lap through the arena. No faults, no touching the rings, the man knew how to control his beast, that much was certain.

With a loud thud the red wyvern landed back down onto the crowd, and Crawford raised his hand to wave at the crowd as his time was announced. Twenty-five point four seconds, or, in layman's terms, very fast. The question running through my mind was whether someone could get a better time by continually flying instead of tucking while diving through the rings. Beithir may have been just small enough to pull it off.

The thought ran through my head repeatedly as the next wyvern rider took off, then the next.

Twenty-seven.

Forty,

Twenty-six,

The times vary, none beating Crawford, and two riders out of the original twelve were disqualified along the way. One poor unfortunate fell off the wyvern as it tried to correct its altitude to get through a ring, the man being only narrowly saved as it came back around to catch him. The other, far more amusingly, was a case of the wyvern deciding the rings would make a good perch, and it got up on the first one then just sort of… sat there until the man was disqualified.

Which means, once all is said and done, to qualify for the actual race, I would need to get through the rings in at least thirty-five seconds. Right. I could do that. My heart hammered in my chest as I got Beithir standing besides the starting posts, and I gently ran my hands down her side as I tried to calm my breathing. "Right girl, we've got this aye?"

Beithir softly grunted, and she turned her head to look at me. I smiled down at her, not that she could see it, and we both looked ahead. The crowd was silent except for faint chatter as I leaned forward with the reins. I couldn't match the maneuvers of any of the previous riders, not by a longshot, I was far too new for this and trying anything too fancy was as likely to get me killed as anything else. But I had speed on my side.

Then, with a kick against her side.

We flew.

Beithir had been watching the other wyverns as much as I had been. And the moment my foot hit her side her wings slammed against the air. The takeoff was more like being thrown by an angry giant, but the speed was rocket-like as she cleared the first ring, then the second, and the third, her wings pumping through the air as she let out a happy roar. My back slammed back against the saddle, the reins going taught in my hands from the force. Beithir pulled up into the air, her training overtaking her so that when I pulled back on the reins she lifted into the air. It also meant she was hovering, and I threw myself forward and kicked my legs against her sides, forcing her forward once more as she desperately started flapping to regain the speed she lost.

I leaned forward as far as I could on Beithir, pressed my knees against her sides, and stretched my arms out to the sides holding the reins. The more air that hit me, the slower we go, and at the moment I couldn't afford that. I pulled against them as we hit the first turn. The world went sideways as the crowd screamed in delight below us.

I tightened my grip on the reins, then let them fall slack as we rounded the corner. Beithir letting out another roar as my right foot nudged her in the side to speed up once more. Her wings, flapping wildly, only narrowly missed clipping the rings as we sailed through them. But I was grinning from ear to ear as the world blurred around us.

"Thattaway girl!" I cried out, but the wind was so loud I couldn't even hear myself as we tore through the arena.

As we approached the second curve I yanked back on the reins once more, pulling her into a sharp turn without losing much in the way of speed. I still had to make up for the first stop, my eyes glanced towards the scoreboard, just a bit mo-

The only warning I got that I was out of position was the sudden jerk of my body as my left shoulder slammed into a ring. The second was the blinding flash of pain that erupted across my entire body, and the sudden blacking of my vision. My left arm flew widely back, letting go of the reins as I slammed back bodily against the saddle. Beithir roared once more, and I fought through my blackened vision to see her straightening out again past the curve. I reached desperately for the reins, grabbing ahold of them with one arm. The other, my left wasn't responding to my commands to move it at all. It hung limply at my side, flopping with the winds. I ignored it, and the pain as Beithir flew through the last series of rings, and I pressed down against the stirrups to force her down onto the ground.

I didn't start screaming until she actually landed, my working arm moving to grasp my limp one. My vision was still swimming from the impact, and I could just barely make out my time on the board as men came running up to help me off the wyvern. I had gotten middle place.

And I had just shattered my left shoulder, and I can't feel anything below it any longer.

 

[Erien]

Thanks to @Armoury for the beta!

---

My gaze stayed transfixed on the arm, motionless and without any trace of feeling beyond a dull throb at my shoulder. I couldn't move it, not that I would even try at this point; the last time I did I nearly collapsed from the pain. Since then I've gotten a rather lovely amount of likely dangerous medication that has reduced the terrible screaming pain to something more akin to merely sleeping on your shoulder. Of course, that's a different problem, as the moonlight comes in through the window of my bedroom I wasn't quite sure how I was meant to sleep on it either. The chair perhaps? Maybe the only option.

The arm was held firm against my stomach via tight straps meant to keep me from moving the shoulder. A futile gesture, because I simply couldn't. It's shattered, ruined, it won't heal. I had grown up around enough farmland to know the many ways one can destroy an arm or a leg, and this was roughly the equivalent to being walloped by a horse fully angry. Even if I did ever manage to get movement in it again, which was likely at least to some small extent, I would never have the strength I needed in it ever again. Some movement, but not enough. I glanced at the other arm, lifting it above my head and swinging it down before yanking back. The long piece of wood I would normally be holding was gone, but even then I could tell the balance wasn't there; a child could swing a hoe better than this.

I couldn't work a hoe with one hand, I doubted anyone could. Or turn hay, or manage coos, or milk them any faster than half-speed, or rebuild a barn. About the only thing I could do easily was toss seed, and that wouldn't get me very far. Managing a farm alone, which had never been an easy task, just became impossible. All because I was a hasty fool that tried to do more than I could, hell, more than I was meant for. And now I've managed to quite likely ruin my life along with the arm, as I have no idea how to ride a wyvern one-handed either.

I let out a sigh, shaking my head slowly as I pushed myself up from the sitting position on the bed. It was odd moving without an arm, a sense of balance is lost that one doesn't realize they were using. If I was to compare it to something… it would be like someone was missing an arm. I made my way around the recliner and over to the window, looking out over the school grounds illuminated by the midnight moon. The green grass in the light looks nearly blue, a far lighter shade in comparison to the black surf of the channel in the distance. It was still the same day, scarcely more half-a-day passed since I destroyed my shoulder, and there was little reason to stay in London. The next event was still a month away, something apparently to do with having to build a new field after the one they used previously got heavily damaged by a beast during the spring season.

I placed the good working hand against the glass, my reflection staring back at me… I needed a shave. A flash of light illuminated a speck of the water briefly, and I found myself watching the ship. The light attached to it danced in the waves for a good long time, however long I couldn't say, but it was approaching the docks of Dover itself as the door opened behind me. A familiar figure appeared in the reflection, and I frowned slightly at her presence.

"Normally people knock." I said, turning back to look at the woman.

She was dressed in her usual nightwear; a silver and blue dress that clashed with her hair. It did nearly glow in the light of the moon though, so I didn't fault her choice regardless, not that a Scottish lowland farmer has much in the way of opinion about fashion, to begin with.

"I own the room, and the door, and the clothes you are wearing. I can do what I like." Morrigan replied, a cautious humor to her voice, like she was afraid of offending me. Not that she could, wasn't her fault what happened today and there was nothing to gain by blaming others for my own stupid mistakes.

"Ah never got the story of that. How you came to run this school." I said, turning around to face the woman as she closed the door behind her. I didn't particularly care either, but I was in no hurry to talk about what she likely came in here to discuss.

Morrigan came to a stop a few feet in front of me, and her gaze went past me out the window. "You never cared before, why now?"

"Ah want to distract myself from the inevitable. And ya have been… unnaturally generous." I admitted.

"Kind of you to say so," Morrigan replied, a small smile coming onto her face. "Does that mean you will be less of an ass?"

I matched her smile. "No promises. But regardless, what stake do you have in this anyway? Ah half expect ya to be sendin' me back north tomorrow."

Morrigan let out a breath, green eyes looking out over the moonlit fields out the window before she turned them onto me. "It took you long enough to ask."

I shrugged with one shoulder, gesturing to the cast with my working hand. "Not much reason not to be curious. Thought ah wouldn't look ah gift horse in the mouth before. Frankly, not sure much ah care now."

Morrigan hummed, her gaze moving about the room. It wasn't much changed since I moved in. Barring a now fuller closet and the mattress placed back onto the bed… which would be on the floor later, but I didn't feel so far like it was worth figuring out how to move the heavy thing one-handed. "I've been pushing for the rights of wyverns for quite some time. Bastards like Welbrook abuse them, and they are half smarter than most people I tend to meet."

"Aye, at this point ah'm fairly sure Beithir is smart enough to talk," I replied. Peering out the window towards the stable the wyvern was currently sleeping in. She almost seemed to know something was wrong, as the moment she saw me again she damn near barreled over the handlers trying to get to me. "just wise enough not to."

"Something like that. Yes." Morrigan said. "I saw a wyvern being loaded into a cage in London several months ago. But she looked like she had been chained down for some time before that. It was being set in the colosseum for wyvern brawls when I… broke in and freed her."

I blinked, slowly. Then I asked the question I felt I already knew the answer to. "Did she fly off wildly to the north afterwards? Roarin' and spewing fire the entire way?"

"It did, yes." Morrigan replied. Her gaze turning away towards the wall.

I didn't say anything, at least, not for a little while. I just sort of laid sideways against the wall on the good shoulder and looked back over the bed. Morrigan stared at me but said nothing as I thought about what she said. Then I simply just let out a breath and turned my head back to her. "Nothin' to be done about it."

Morrigan gave me a shocked look, and I shrugged and explained. "The beast was scared, and if ah saw Beithir in the same position as ah know 'er now ah'd probably do the same." I shook my head, looking back towards the stables through the window. "Ah want to be mad 'bout it, damn mad. But Beithir didn't deserve what that git did to 'er, and ya helped me out already by givin' me the chance." Then I gestured to the arm again. "But ah'm fairly sure ah can't get back at Wellbrook with a shattered arm, let alone get back to farmin' either. Unless ya've got a plan in that Irish brain of yours."

Morrigan lets out a thoughtful hum. Eyes landing on my arm as she does so. "You should focus on speed instead of control if you are to fly with one arm."

"Ah think Beithir is plenty fast already." I replied.

Morrigan grins. "I think there are plenty of tricks I could teach you to make her go faster. If you are still interested of course."

"Ah don't have much of a choice," I started to say. Only to get a finger pressed against my lips. I glanced down, to find Morrigan's pointer finger shushing me.

"Get some rest Arthur, we start in the morning. I want no complaining." She pulled the finger back a moment later, still grinning before she turned on the spot and left the room.

I stared after her, not finding much to say as the door clicked shut behind her. I didn't have much choice did I? It was riding the wyvern or nothing at this point, but at the very least… I had more to learn.

With a sigh, I turned back towards the bed. I couldn't help but wonder.

What was I hoping to get from this?

---

Sorry for the short crappy chapter, one week I was a zombie, the second I was a work zombie.

 

[Erien]

Thanks to @Armoury for the beta!

---

"Down." I said firmly. Pointing down at the dirt with my finger.

Beithir stared at me, tongue flicking out as she tilted her head slightly in apparent confusion.

With a sigh, I crouched down, careful not to brush the dead hand against the dirt as I tapped onto the firm earth of the school. "Down."

Beithir stared at my hand, then, as I watched, she patted the ground herself with her claws to mimic my motion.

… I let out a sigh, good hand running down my face as I shook my head. "Ya think ah was speaking Scots to 'er."

"Perhaps you should," Morrigan responded, and I turned back to see the woman walking across the field with a book tucked underneath her arm. "You barely make enough intelligible sense when you try to speak English. Perhaps switching to a simpler language would be easier for you both?"

"Aye? An' hear ah thought my tones were the envy of every man in Dover. Between my accent, my heroics, and my grizzled features ah'll have ya know ah've yet to meet anyone immune to my charms."

Morrigan snorted, coming to a stop a few feet away from me. "Truly? Charming are you?"

I nodded, "observe." Then I raised my hand to my lips and let out a whistle. I smiled as the heavy footfalls filled my ears, and I moved my hands from my lips to the air as Beithir rubbed her snout against it. I curled the fingers, scratching lightly at the scales at the tip of her snout and caused a happy growl to escape the wyvern.

I never stopped looking at Morrigan as I did this either, a smile on my face. "See? The ladies love me."

Morrigan laughed, one hand moving to cover her mouth as she looked away as if embarrassed I made her do so. "Well, at least your sense of humor didn't get any more damaged from the accident."

"Aye, small mercies. But it's not easy to mount her with only one arm. Been trying to get her to learn to lay down so that ah can more easily. Seems that she can't quite figure out the issue ah'm havin'."

Morrigan let out a thoughtful hum, her gaze moving from me, to my ruined arm, then to my wyvern. "Well, nothing to do but to keep trying. Do you feel up to it?"

I shrugged my good shoulder and turned back to the wyvern. Removing my hand I pointed at the ground. "Down."

Beithir stared at me, then her long tongue came out to run across my hand.

… This was going to take a while.

---

"Back ya dumb thing!" I shouted, eyes narrowed as I glared at Beithir.

The wyvern grumbled, backing away from me before letting out a snort of flame from its mouth that dissipated against the rocks. The slab of meat that I was previously offering was now held behind my back, and I stood on my toes a bit more for extra intimidating height… as much as you can intimidate Beithir in any case. I was offering her a treat, but in her haste to get it she nearly took my one remaining good hand off.

In the face of my glare Beithir tucked into herself, then she leaned forward slowly, placing her head down onto the rocks and looked up at me. Her tail lightly tapped the rocks behind her as she begged for the food.

"Aye? Yer a big scalie dog now? This the ca-"

My words were cut off as Beithir lifted her head and licked my face, her breath smelling of carrion. I sputtered, then tossed the treat forward and past her. Little more than a slab of raw beef, Beithir spun on the spot and chased after it, roaring and leaving the cliff shaking as she tore off after it. It landed onto the ground with a wet splat, and sadly before it got a chance to hide or even offer a prayer to god the wyvern was on it, curling around it like a snake around an egg, then, with a burst of hint and the scent of gas she let loose flame down onto it, the sound of sizzling meat filling the air before she plucked it off of the ground with her claw and stuffed it into her mouth.

She swallowed it without chewing, her tongue darting out to lick at her lips before she looked at me expectantly for more. "Ah don't know why ya bother to cook it when ya can't be arsed to chew." I said, then pointed to the spot in front of myself.

Beithir, on cue, walked across the rocks to come to a stop in front of me. I stared up at her, then lifted my hand to rub it along her neck. The wyvern stretched, head looking up towards the glass of the aviary as I ran my hand along the softer scales of her neck.

"Most wyverns do it," Morrigan says, responding to my earlier question. "To help with digestion likely. Or perhaps they simply like their food hot?"

I smiled at Morrigan's announcement of her presence and patted Beithir's neck before allowing my hand to drop. My other hand hung, still useless, against my side, but I paid it little mind as I turned around to look at Morrigan. I also paid Beithir butting her head against my back little mind. Morrigan was dressed in her full regalia, which to her meant her armor as I tended to find. Her silver helm glinted in the light of the morning, designed in such a way that the only part of her face I could make out was her green eyes through the slit, and even then they were cast heavily in shadow.

"Well, here's hoping she never decides ah look particularly tasty then," I replied. "Lord knows she's tried to cook me more than once."

"Pity," Morrigan said. "Mount up. I want another run of the course outside. You have less than a week until London and you need to be practicing as much as possible."

"Aye." I agreed. It had been three weeks since the injury, and since then it had been nothing but work. When I wasn't riding Beithir I was reading about Beithir, when I wasn't doing that I was receiving tips from Morrigan or sleeping… and I wasn't doing much of the latter recently. But the progress was substantial, even if I wasn't anywhere near where I would have liked to be. Turning back to my wyvern I pointed at the ground, and without a word from me Beithir lowered her entire body to the ground and looked up at me expectantly.

I walked up and threw my leg over, my hand grabbing the reins. With a slight tug against them, Beithir stood, and I nudged my left knee against her side to get her to turn towards the entrance at the lower level. Then, without any prompting on my part, the wyvern started forward, walking along the rocks and then the path towards the entrance to the aviary. I tugged the reins to the right to make her stay on the path, but Beithir was already halfway through the motion when I was. It is a difficult thing to control a flying animal, or any animal, with only one hand. But Beithir had been remarkably agreeable during the process, once you got to work teaching her hand gestures… she basically took over the rest, needing little prodding from her rider to actually maintain herself with me on her back.

As we stepped outside I pulled the reins back, and with a flap of her wings, Beithir lifted off of the ground. A happy trill lept from Beithir as I carefully guided her towards the racing grounds. They were little more than a series of twin poles stuck into the ground at odd intervals over several acres, but they served as a safe...er way of learning how to fly around obstacles without risking my other shoulder. It was a short flight from the aviary to it, but I needed to be flying as much as possible just to get used to guiding Beithir with only one hand. It was imprecise, clumsy, and I had to rely far more on Beithir's instincts than my ability to control an animal. But it was also the only option I had available to me. The wyvern came to a skidding stop between the starting poles, looking around expectantly for the fun to begin. Beithir took to wyvern racing like… well, a racing wyvern. And I was lately all too eager to give her the chance to practice and learn, as she seemed to be about as new to it as I was.

Of course, that was just to learn control and how to turn a bit better. My weeks were full of training and adapting. Beithir… had to adapt to little actually, the moment I fully let her go as fast she wanted to she took to it like a bullet to gunpowder. Both in terms of speed and being something I was unable to take back after the fact. 'More please' was the order of the day for Beithir, and at this point, I was willing to let her go as fast as she wanted as long as she didn't splatter me against a wall. Which she almost did.

Twice.

At those speeds, it was more on Beithir's part to make the turn than myself. I was mostly there for general direction and command, she handled the actual difficult bits. Which she once again took to rather well, seemingly knowing what I wanted her to do even with the inaccurate rein tugging I was capable of accomplishing. I let out a low whistle, and Beithir leans her body forward, pressing her tail against the ground for balance as she nearly fully extends.

"Go!" I shouted, and I lost the ability to hear the words as Beithir took off like an arrow. She didn't fly through the first gate, she leapt, her strong legs pushing off against the ground as she leaped into the air. Only when she reached the plateau of the jump did she flap her wings, the tips of them nearly touching the ground as she flapped them rapidly to increase her speed. The next passed by in a rush of wind, and I tugged against the reigns and pressed hard against her side with my left foot to bring her into a turn that took us through the next set of poles. My back slammed against the padded rest of the saddle behind me as we straightened again, and I pressed both of my feet against her sides this time as we approached a pair of pulls set onto a raised platform. Beithir could easily clear the platforms without the trick I was about to pull off, but it allowed her to keep her speed even as she gained height.

Flames billowed from Beithir straight down, blasting against the brown dirt below and sending the both of us higher in the air as the heated air hit her wings. We passed through the raised platform easily, then twisted to the right to pass through a harsh turn right next to it. Then, dead ahead were three pairs of poles in a row before a 'gentle' curve back towards the start. I kicked instead of simply pressing my legs against her side, "aye, faster girl!" I shouted.

Beithir likely couldn't hear me, hell, I could barely hear me. But Beithir understood the gesture well enough. With my single hand holding firm onto the reins in case I needed to command her to lift herself back up, Beithir tucked her wings against her side and dived. I leaned forward, fighting the wind to wrap my arm around the front horn of the saddle, making as little of my body 'visible' to the wind as possible as we gained speed. Three.

Two.

One.

I snapped back and yanked the reins to the left, Beithir's wings extended as we cleared the last set of pulls and she made a sharp turn to the left at my command. Then, all that was between us and the end of the course was a straight shot, Beithir's wings pumped in the air, yesterday's time was thirty-one seconds around the entire course, and I could feel the grin spreading across my face as I made myself as low to the saddle as possible once again. "Come on girl!"

We didn't slow down or even stop as we passed the starting line once more, I wouldn't dare to try. Instead, I pulled against the reins to send her in a wide turn to the right, and lightly patted the back of her neck to tell her to slow down. The wyvern's wings fully extended, and she lifted herself back slightly to slow down. Then, and only then, did I guide her to a skidding stop against the dirt a good twenty feet away from the poles… and I'd estimated only just a bit more than half a minute since I started.

I laughed, tossing my gauntlets aside as I scratched the scales along her back. Beithir growled happily, turning her head to look back at me in what I would swear was a smile. I then slid off of her, landing unsteadily onto the ground and looking up for Morrigan. My legs were unsteady below me, my heart was pounding, and I was fairly sure that I may have bruised my back from how hard I hit the saddle.

Completely worth it mind. "What's the time?" I asked, looking towards the Irish woman standing next to the starting line.

She holds up a stopwatch, though from where I was I could make the time. "Twenty-nine seconds, almost exactly. Do you feel ready?"

I grinned, reaching up to pull the helmet off of my head as I started to walk towards her. A heavy thudding sounded behind me as I did, telling me that Beithir was following along as usual. "Last time ah felt ready my shoulder exploded, but ah'm ready to give it another try at least."

Morrigan smiled, slightly. "We'll be leaving in two days for London, best to get in what practice you can, Jock."

I reached behind me to pat Beithir on the shoulder, the wyvern grunting and leaning into the touch before I pulled away. "Aye, plan on it. An' thanks for the help, even if ya got me into this situation, to begin with." You then twist your body, making the useless limb move slightly in the case "Shake?" I asked, grinning as I offered her the currently useless hand.

Morrigan stared at it, then at my face.

The laugh we both shared lasted precisely as long as it took for Beithir to get annoyed that I was no longer petting her and headbutted me in the back.

 

[Erien]

Thanks to @Armoury for the beta!

---

I wasn't quite sure if I missed London, to be perfectly honest. While the sheer scale of it was always amazing to look at, I still preferred the scent of coo-shite than the general stink that hung over the city like a fog. It was a hard one to rightfully describe, a mix of coal and sweat and sense of… depression I would guess. Like the scent in the air before a spell of bad weather one knew damn well would bring little else other than misfortune. Of course, more than likely that was my own opinions of the cities bleeding through, but they started it when they drew away all of my neighbors like a damn selkie calling from just off shore. Then of course the city-folk came in and bought all the damn land around me to ranch, which means my land has transitioned from having crops and coos to just coos, though a hell of a lot more coos than were present previously I'd imagine.

Though with the luck I'd been having lately I wouldn't be half-surprised if by the time I got back up to my little town in the valley it was gone entirely, replaced by some giant factory or the like. My family had been there for longer than we had any record, not in any positions of great importance, but just being gone at all was unusual. I was pretty sure I was further south than any member of my family going back generations had ever been, and if you count the channel I flew over, probably as long as Scotland has existed. I was an explorer, currently sitting on a cushioned bench with my feet up on the table as the train pulled into the station. Morrigan, bless her kind soul, was doing her best to ignore my lack of manners, she however was not wearing the gambeson, so I had little other choice for a comfortably sitting position than angled. Said comfort on the train ride was quickly replaced by a stinging sensation in my legs as I set them down onto the metal train floor to head outside, something that caused no end of amusement from Morrigan I might add.

"Told you that was a bad idea," Morrigan said glibly. Walking past me and out the door as she did so.

"Aye, my life is a series of bad ideas that will more than likely lead to a bitter end," I replied, stumbling out of the traincar after her. By the time I made it to the door I had worked out the kinks in my legs, and I turned to look at her with a grin. "Sides, ah'll take a few moments of unstable legs for a few hours of comfort, thank ya kindly."

The witch at my side snorted, but started a quick walk down the wooden floor of the train station towards the cargo station. There a crowd had started to form, curious to see what new manner of beast had arrived for their amusement. It was Beithir of course, managing to look both curious and grumpy as she stared out of the cage towards the crowd around her. A wyvern arriving in London of course isn't anything particularly unique, but the fact that she was decked out in Barding on the day of the races was, and more than one eager child had been waiting out in the train station for exactly this purpose. I smiled as I pushed through the crowd, then with a grunt I pulled myself up onto the train car, a rather tricky operation with one arm, then undid the latch on the gate and pulled myself into the cage.

"An' how ya doing there ya big dumb lizard?" I asked, reaching over to scratch at the spot Beithir liked between the eyes. Beithir growled happily, leaning into my hand as my fingers rubbed between her scales. Her tail slapped against the side of the cage, causing a rattling sound to ring through the train station, before, with a hiss of machinery, a crane lifted the crate off of the traincar and behind a waiting carriage.

"Do you intend to stay in the cage all the way to the colosseum?" Morrigan asked.

I looked over to her, the crowd now dispersing. "Aye, might as well keep her calm before the race."

Morrigan looked the cage over then shrugged her shoulders. "It suits you."

"Behave, 'fore I drag you in here as well." I replied, moving to lean back against my wyvern as I did so.

Beithir, being far wiser than either myself or Morrigan saw no part in including herself in any of our banter, instead she merely turned her head to look at me before pressing her nose against my side. I lifted my arm, allowing her massive hide to slide over onto my lap before I laid the arm back down onto her neck. A few moments later the carriage started to move, bouncing out of the train station and down the road through the city. Beithir's head lifted the moment we cleared the station, looking around curiously at all there was to see as we bounced along. There was, admittedly, a lot. Last time I was rushed through the town and was so nervous I didn't bother looking around. It was… busy, for lack of a better term. Something I expected, but even compared to the first time I was in town it was packed. Hundreds of people lined the streets, and all around pasted to the walls were posters advertising the event I myself was to take part in. Bright yellow posters with a red wyvern rising over a brown colosseum, wings curled around it like it was protecting a clutch, there one roughly every dozen or so feet. It would seem they took the sport rather seriously… or rather, they took the amount of money it surely brings in rather seriously.

Beithir grumbled in discontent as the cart bounced once more, and I ran my hand down her back to calm her. "Settle girl, ain't far from the station to the arena. Most people in this town are too fat to walk that far."

As I said this the carriage turned a corner, and my words were proven true as at the end of the long street was a gargantuan building. Oval in shape, it was more than likely the largest building in London, if not England itself. At least, that was from my perspective as the thing was easily wider than the schools entire property back in Dover. Hell, I thought it was likely bigger than my field back home, and all the fields next to it besides. A tall building made of blemish-free brown stone with a giant glass dome rising up from it into the sky far far taller than the aviary. Proud pillars were set into it every half dozen feet, rising up with the stone built around it. Hanging from each pillar was a banner flapping in the wind, each depicting images of wyverns of various breeds, of the dozen I could see from the cage I recognized maybe… two of them, and none of them were the same species as Beithir. I tapped Beithir on the nose then slipped back out of the cage as we went underneath the wide arch that served as the main entrance. The wyvern looked after me as I stepped out, and I tapped the side of the cage as it came to a stop to let Morrigan out of the passenger cabin. "Apologies Beithir, you'll be in the stabes for a wee bit before it's time. Only about an hour though."

Beithir's eyes narrowed as if she could understand me, but before she could get a word in edgewise the carriage continued down a side tunnel that I would imagine lead underneath the stadium.

"Are you quite done carousing with your wyvern?" Morrigan asked.

"It's the only way to get an intelligent conversation in this town." I replied, idly looking up at the stones of the archway as I did so. It was… dizzyingly tall, but then, London never did anything small and simple from what I had seen so far.

"... Not wrong." Morrigan admitted. "But come, we are to show ourselves in the VIP gallery before the match. Drinks and small finger foods, I expect you to behave yourself."

"Aye ma'am, I will be on my best behavior as I hang around upper-class twits who've never worked a day in their lives." I replied. Then followed her as she walked into a guarded side door then up a long set of steps. I counted a good eight floors by the time we reached the top, and found myself standing in a decent sized booth set with tables and seats that overlooked the large oval shaped arena. Dotting it were large metal places the racing poles were to be set into, though at this moment they were curiously absent, indeed the only thing within the glass dome that marked the arena was the dirt and some rather flamboyantly dressed people milling about.

Of course, up in the booth I was standing in there were also flamboyantly dressed people milling about, but these were, at least for the moment, a 'type.' It was a good hour before the first race began, one I wasn't even in mind, but for the moment the vast majority of the riders were here in the VIP booth, drinking, eating, and talking amongst themselves. Among them were quite a few of the riders I saw from the last race, including Crawford and… one gentleman I meant to meet actually. I never caught his name, a rather overdressed man with blonde hair and green eyes, but during the last race was injured as he was coming in for the landing, twisting its leg rather severely. I was curious how the wyvern was healing, mostly because you felt a bit of an odd kinship with the poor thing. That, and it was another smaller breed like Beithir was.

I toss a nod towards Crawford but head over to the blonde man first, idly picking up a drink along the way before stopping alongside him. "How's the wyvern?" I asked.

The man blinked at the question, apparently not having expected a ruffian to approach him. "It has been handled, it will be part of the day's events." The man then offers his hand. "George Scott."

I grinned and shook it. "Arthur Adair, and good to hear it. Good luck today?"

The man nodded. "Good luck, and good show."

"Arthur!" I heard Crawford call for me, and I looked back to see the man waving me over. I smiled and took a sip of the drink in my hand… then immediately placed it on the frame of the window next to me. Far, far too fruity.

"Crawford!" I replied, using the exact same tone he did. I came to a stop before the man, he, like myself, was in his riding outfit. However unlike myself he was already wearing the gauntlets and the metal boots. Though there was a good reason for that. "What do you think your chances are in the first round?"

Crawford smiled at the question. "I have to diplomatically say that all racers are equally good and I hope to see you do well in the second round. How's the arm?"

"Entirely useless," I said. "But I've learned how to ride well enough without it."

Crawford raised a brow then looked to Morrigan, the woman nodding to back me up on that statement. "I'm impressed, unfortunately we won't be racing together but I do look forward to seeing how you do."

"Aye, me as well. Curious to see what limb I will lose today."

"Your brain likely," Morrigan replied. "But I'm not sure you were using that to begin with."

I opened my mouth to respond, but my thoughts are torn from me as a jubilant cheer rises from the decent sized crowd already in the stands. I blinked, then looked down towards the arena proper.

A man stood there in the center of it with a cone in his hand, much like the last time I was at the other arena. He's joined by about four others spread throughout the grounds, and in almost perfect sync they started to talk. "Ladies and gentlemen, it's time for the first event before the races!"

Next to the man in the center is a cage, and as they continue to speak the walls of it collapse down on the ground revealing a pale blue wyvern. It's thin, and is looking around confused as it steps off of the metal bottom of the cage with a noticeable… limp.

"We shall be starting the day's events with a wyvern-fight! Lancaster-Blue versus the Monster of Newcastle!"

That's… the wyvern that was injured during the last race I believed, they signed it up for a spar? As my brain tried to process that the announcers quickly left the arena, the reason for which became obvious a moment later as a gate along the side opened and out rumbled an absolute, well, monster. It was a deep green, the wings at its side were clipped, torn, shredded and utterly useless, and all along its bodies were poorly healed scars and burns that showcased a rather painful life. As it lumbered towards the other smaller wyvern a raucous cheer erupted from the crowd, and just barely over it a whistle could be heard, a metallic and shrill one.

On cue the beast charged, and the injured wyvern, apparently realizing the situation it had been put in, quickly lowered itself in an attempt to meet the charge. To precisely no avail, the beast slams itself broadside with the smaller wyvern, and physics takes over to send the smaller blue wyvern tumbling over itself on the hard ground. I could see the wings bending unnaturally, and I could tell even from my distance that the weak bones in the wings were broken, if unlucky damn near unrepairable. "It won." I said quietly, cold disgust washing over me.

The smaller wyvern eventually came to a stop, the already broken leg bent at an unnatural angle, with a roar of pain it snapped its head forward, attempting to bite at the beast that caused it pain. The fangs bit into the brute's skin, but it just ignored it as it bent it's own head down and clamps its jaws around the midsection of the slimmer wyvern. Rearing back the green beast shook the blue one violently, Lancaster's teeth forced out of its skin with a spray of blood that painted the arena floor. Then it was tossed forward, bouncing along the ground.

"Stop this." I said, but my voice, quiet, is inaudible over the crowd.

Lancaster-Blue dazedly looked up at its attacker, and as it did a second, louder whistle was heard over the crowd. On cue the monster billow flame, not the red of Beithir, this was the blue fire I had seen in the forges. The smaller wyvern lets out a roar of terrible pain, scrambling against the ground and attempting to crawl away from the flames covering it.

I turned my head to look George, only to see the man talking calmly with one of the men I saw announcing the 'fight' down below. A small sack of what I assumed to be money was in George's hand, and he had a small smile on his face as if nothing was wrong at all. I stepped forward, only for a hand to roughly grab my shoulder. I looked back to see Morrigan shaking her head, and before I could say anything my attention was torn away by the sound of a second roar of pain. Looking back towards the Arena I could see Lancaster-Blue flailing on the dirt, scales boiling off of it as it burned to death. Slowly, without seemingly any hurry the Monster walked over and calmly lowered its jaws around the flaming wyverns throat.

I looked away as the smaller wyvern died. But whatever death roar it let out was drowned out by the cheer from the crowd. Far louder than any cheer I heard back in the race.

 

[Erien]

Thanks to @Armoury for the beta!

---

"Morrigan, ya need to get me out ah here." I said, calmly, slowly, and doing my best to look straight at the woman and precisely nothing else in the room. Lest I grab Mr Scott and threw him bodily into the arena below to see how he would do against 'The Beast'. I could feel the helmet I was gripping bending in my hands slightly, the metal giving way to my hands as I pressed it against my side. I don't recall when I grabbed my helmet, I may have walked up here with it on autopilot, but at that moment it was something I could exert my strength on that wasn't alive.

Thankfully Morrigan received the message, as upon meeting my gaze she looped her arm through my own and guided me back towards the steps away from the VIP booth. I turned away from the group as we walked, my eyes briefly meeting Crawford's before I made my way down the steps. The man's expression was unreadable, or at least, it was unreadable to my current mind, and with hurried steps, Morrigan led me down the arena until we were once again back outside. The woman kept a death grip around my arm the entire way as if afraid I would rip it away and charge back up the steps.

Unlikely. Fair, but unlikely.

Once we reached the ground level however she freed my arm, and I looked back at the woman's frowning face for a moment before I made my way towards the tunnel they took Beithir down. My boots crunched against the packed dirt as I moved, and I worked to unbend the faceplate of my helm as I stomped across it. The tunnel itself was as wide and tall as the one I saw back when I first arrived in this pisspot of a town, and I started to make my way down it with Morrigan chasing after me.

"Where precisely are you going Arthur?" Morrigan asked, having run the final way to come to my side once more.

"The one place in this city with people worth dealin' with. They keep 'em in cages here." I replied. The yellow gas lights marked my way as I headed down into the underground section of the arena. Ahead I could see a door and beside it an armed guard. The man looked up as I approached, and whether out of fear from how I was walking, or the fact that I was uniformed, he opened the door for me. I didn't bother looking at him as I stepped through and into the stables underneath the arena. It wasn't…

The smell of shit was the first thing that hit me, the second was that of other refuse. All around me, spread out throughout a vast basement, were caged wyverns. Some were barely larger than the whipper-drakes that were within them, others were gargantuan things holding beasts not dissimilar to the one I saw above. Most were in bad shape, bars bent, stains on the floor, and the wyverns themselves, especially the 'beasts' were scarred and muzzled, heavy iron jars around their snouts to ensure they'd burn their own faces off before they had any hope of burning anything else. I looked past them all, looking for one in particular, and in the far corner I saw her, Beithir sitting in her cage, head resting on metal. It was the same cage she was in earlier, with the heavy lock holding the bar that blocked the door shut.

I felt a hand try to grab my shoulder as I walked forward, but I ignored it, walking past the wyverns until I reached my own. At my approach Beithir opened her eyes, she looked at me without apparent recognition for several seconds before she lurched back up onto her legs, wings pressing against the ground to hold herself up as she stared at me. I smiled at her, then looked at the lock, it was a simple thing of iron that went through a loop that prevented the bar on the door from being pulled off.

"I can get the ke-" Morrigan started.

But as she was speaking I simply raised my helmet and slammed it down onto the top of the lock just where the loop met the actual frame of the lock. I would be the first to admit I wasn't very smart, the schooling available to me was adequate for what it was, and I had a knack for arithmetic, but any trades? The world? That was all unknown to me. But a life spent hauling farm equipment, rearing horses, and moving cattle. That gave me one thing if nothing else. Brute strength. With a satisfying metallic 'ping' the lock split, the loop popping out and the rest of it just hanging there loosely. I grabbed it, unhooked it, then tossed it aside. Then I wrenched the bar aside and swung the heavy iron door open. Beithir growled as I did so, and I smiled up at her and stepped inside her cage, my hand moved to rub at her snout as I did so.

"Arthur, what's your plan here?" Morrigan asked.

"Ah'm staying with my wyvern until the race starts. If ah go back out there I'm likely to kill somebody," My fingers traced the contours of Beithir's scaled nose, the wyvern leaning into my touch as I answered without looking back. "Then ah'm going to participate in the race, ah'm gonna win, collect my prize money, then ah'm gonna pay off Beithir's original owner then never return to London."

"Are you angry, Arthur?" Morrigan asked, her voice was a touch quieter.

I blinked, then slowly turned my head to look back at the woman with as flat of an expression as I could muster.

"Stupid question," Morrigan admitted. But she doesn't avert her gaze.

"Aye, it was," I replied. "Ah've had the pleasure of watching all of my friends and neighbors over the years move to London and Edinburgh, and frankly ah haven't seen a single damn thing that impresses me. In fact, what happened up there would likely get ya chased out of town back where ah came from. And up there? They cheered louder than they ever did at our race."

Morrigan crossed her arms. "Are you truly that naive Arthur, that you believe only people in the larger cities do this?"

"Ah know they don't!" I replied, raising my voice and causing Beithir to slink back as I did so. "Don't treat me like a damned fool Morrigan. There'll always be dumb kids trying to tame little whipperdrakes they caught in the woods or damn blasted fools getting rid of a wyvern that grew too large. But that? An injured animal that has no way to defend itself against a scaled goliath? That's not cruel, that's ah damn affront to God 'imself." I then sighed, shook my head and looked back at Beithir. "People up there acting more like beasts than the wyverns down here."

"Why do you think I'm against the practice Arthur?" Morrigan asked after several seconds of silence. "I don't condone the practice."

"Aye? What would you have to gain from tearing it down, ya teach a school for wyvern-riding." I replied, not looking back at her. At least I wasn't until she grabbed my shoulder and violently wrenched me around to look at her again.

"Yes. Wyvern-riding, not fighting Arthur. I don't like it or condone it, and that's why this is all happening. Beithir wasn't signed up for racing, she was signed up to fight. I've tried to teach my students as best as I could."

That gave me a moment's pause, the thought had never crossed my mind that Beithir was being used for the fights instead of the races. I met her gaze for several moments more before looking away again towards Beithir, the wyvern watching us both. Her eyes twinkled in the dim gaslights with what I would swear was amusement. Enjoying the show? "What do ya suggest ah do then."

I felt her hand touch my shoulder again, this time far more gently. Then she leaned in to whisper something into my ear.

I smiled.

 

[Erien]

Thanks to @Armoury for the beta!

---

As I stepped out onto the field the roaring cheer of the crowd filled my ears. It was an odd sound through the helmet, like hearing someone down a distant hallway yet still at such a volume as to be all-encompassing and… overpowering, if I was going to be perfectly honest. I craned my neck up as I looked out over the stands, it was full, hell, it was probably at capacity, I could hardly see a single empty seat amongst the gigantic oval that made up the 'colosseum' in the outskirts of London. It was a mess of colors and people, a mishmash of the type I had seen in London and many more, that seemingly came from all across the world just to watch the day's events.

Speaking of which. My eyes landed on a chunk of broken claw sticking out of the sand a good thirty feet in front of me near one of the pillars that form the gates for the race. Some unlucky wyvern involved in the first race of the day must have partially collided with it, tearing out a chunk of its claw in the process. It was Crawford and his group, though you doubt it was Crawford himself, the man was involved in the first group of racers, you are in the second, then after you, there was a third and then a fourth. The man was too good of a rider for that, at least, I suspected he was as such. My eyes lingered on it for only a moment longer before I turned my gaze to the others coming out of the stables. Of the three other wyverns arriving Beithir was the smallest, though by comparison not by much. The largest, a long yellow almost… serpentine beast came in next to its rider wearing what looked to be silks instead of the gambeson the rest of us were wearing. The wyvern's wings were of a different shape as well, not near as wide but far far longer than Beithir's, going almost from the head to the legs, probably twenty or so feet long, in comparison to Beithir's ten. The other two were more standard variants, one red, and one green respectively. Beithir was the smallest as usual, though the one with red scales was close.

I turned my gaze back to the announcers as they started to laud the achievements of the four of us, the man's shouted praises echoed throughout the stadium, and it was something I ignored as I reached up to climb up onto Beithir. I had little in the way of achievements to laud in any case, though I turned my head slightly as the man's voice hiccuped in surprise as I mounted Beithir early.

"Well, ladies and gentlemen, it seems one of our racers is rather eager!" the announcer said, an overdressed fop with a ringleader's mustache to match. He looked down at the sheet of paper in his hand, quirking a styled brow in the process. "Arthur Adair, on his Caucus Skyracer!"

A cheer sounded out through the crowd, and I simply stared down at the man. "He's fro-"

Our eyes met as he began to speak, and the words died in his throat. It was the same man who announced the fight earlier, and I simply glared down at him without a word. My one-handed grip on the reins tightened, and the man hurriedly focused on the racer with the green wyvern nearby. I loosened my grip on the reins and let out a breath, idly looking over the field once more as with the last platitudes the announcers started going over the rules. A simpler affair than the last one arguably, and safer as well. Poles were set at regular intervals along the arena, and the job of the racers was to fly through them in order in two laps, with the leader at the end of course taking the victory. The main difference compared to the last time however is there are fewer things to actually hit, like I unfortunately did, and my competitors were actively flying with me and attempting to get in my way.

"Contact with any other racers or their wyverns is forbidden, the queen expects a clean and honorable race!" The announcer finished. "Take your station's riders!"

I gently nudged Beithir, and she took a leisurely pace towards the starting line marked in the dirt. The other three racers lined up beside me, some looked relaxed, others looked tense… and I was just looking to get this started already. Leaning forward I gently ran my hand along Beithirs' neck, the wyvern letting out a snort that I had vaguely learned to translate as 'focus, you idiot'. Smiling slightly, I leaned back and grabbed onto the saddle horn with my good hand, the other hanging limply at my side, the reins, for the moment, forgotten. The sound of the gunshot was piercing, a loud crack that announced the start of the race. The signal for the riders to spur their mounts into action.

…

I had to do nothing.

Beithir leapt forward, her wings flapping at her side as she took off from the starting line like the aforementioned gunshot. My grip on the saddle horn was tight, and unlike before I didn't slam into the back of the saddle, instead I used my strength to pull my body forward, presenting as little of myself to the air as possible as Beithir screamed past the riders beside me. Beithir was best in a straight line, the shape of her body meant that she accelerated hilariously quickly but didn't have enough wingspan to keep that up through turns. I tilted my body, leading Beithir through the first turn, a wide half-moon arc that takes us right against the glass that protects the stands. As we did so the yellow slithering wyvern overtook us, passing a good foot above my head as its long thin body allowed it to twist into the turn far more easily than Beithir could. I ducked underneath it reflexively and made Beithir go into a slightly shallow dive as we came back out of the turn again. Now underneath the other wyvern, I nudged Beithir in the side, hoping to use the straightway to pass it by, only to lurch away as the snake-like wyvern lowered itself as well, its rider looking back as it blocked our forward movement.

Aye?

The rider in yellow looked forward again, snapping the reins of his wyvern and increasing the distance between the two of us. With effort, I stood up in the saddle, then leaned forward as far as I could until my arms, useless and otherwise, were wrapped around Beithir's neck. Then with my knees, I squeezed against her side as strong as I dared.

Beithir roared a challenge, and she flapped her wings as hard as she could three times before slamming them taut against her side. The wind screamed through my helmet as we gained speed, and in a moment we were side by side with the yellow wyvern and following it through a turn, my head turning right to look at my opponent. Our speed was a perfect match as Beithir slowed to make it through the turn, and we both came out onto the long stretch back to the starting line neck and neck. The next two gates passed us by with our wyverns fighting for speed, Beithir pulling ahead slightly but the other rider doing all they could to keep pace. The other wyvern wasn't as gifted with acceleration as Beithir was, but her long and thin design meant she could naturally keep a higher speed than my own. We went into the next turn, still neck and neck, but then we both veered to the side as with a loud roar the red wyvern went screaming overhead, bellowing flame that narrowly missed us both. I pulled Beithir back under control as the wyvern recovered, the yellow wyvern gaining a lead and chasing after the red one. I glanced back to see the green wyvern chasing after me, its rider desperate not to be in last place. While I was in the straightaway with the yellow and red wyvern both gaining speed away from me.

…

I smiled. Then leaned forward further until my head was just by Beithir's horn. "Are ya just gonna let them beat ya like that?" I shouted.

Beithir looked up for the first time in a half minute, having been focused entirely on keeping above the ground and avoiding the poles. I watched as her gaze landed on the yellow and red wyverns, and her eyes narrowed. Beithir had something to her I had noticed some time back, something that reminded me of myself more than any other animal. She was stubborn.

Beithir's flames erupt from her throat and paint the ground in orange and red, and this time I did slam back into the saddle as Beithir let loose everything she had into her charge. My hand grabbed the reins and yanked them to the side, pulling Beithir as tight as I could into the turn as we narrowly missed colliding with the yellow wyvern. Then I let go, throwing myself forward to grip the saddlehorn once more and lowered my body once more, "down girl!"

Beithir tucked in her wings and dived, passing by the red wyvern and stirring up the dust and dirt beneath us in a billowing cloud. Then, in another instant, it was over. Beithir's head passed between the starting poles, then the rest of her body, and I led her through the next two gates as she gradually lost speed, before, with a gentle pull of the reins my wyvern slowed to a stop onto the ground. She looked back up at me curiously as we stopped, then looked up at the crowd roaring in adulation as we were announced as the victors.

I smiled.

Not at the victory, though that was of course precisely what I was aiming for.

No, I smiled at the look Beithir had given me.

'What, that's it?'

---

I stepped into my room with a sigh, they didn't actually allow me to leave the colosseum until the rest of the races were finished, and then there was a mandatory dinner. It was good food, but past a certain point, a man is just hot and tired and wishes to be done for the day. The room was fancy, provided by the staff for those that couldn't, or didn't wish to, afford to get their own places in London to stay. In my case, I couldn't afford a place to stay in London even if I wanted to, and I was not going to lean on Morrigan's charity more than I already was. I placed down the helmet onto the nightstand, the dent from my earlier grip gleaming in the light provided by the streetlights outside, their dim rays reaching through into my second-story room and painting the whole space in a sickly yellow pallor.

Morrigan was a few rooms away from me, though at the moment I was in no mood for more… talking. I had left the field with Beithir in tow the second I finished the race, just barely catching the shocked looks from the other racers; as if I had just slapped their mothers. I did not find many conversations during dinner, which suited me fine as I wanted nothing to do with any of them. Not like there was anything to discuss in any case. I glanced towards the window once more before I pulled off the remainder of my riding outfit then switched into far more comfortable clothing. Once done I took a glance at the bed… then turned right back around to the door and made my way through the hotel and back outside. The cool night air of London was a relief, despite the… less than savory smell it brought with it. I had been in my gambeson for most of the day, and while that did an absolutely wonderful job of keeping a wyvern from crushing my ribcage with a nudge, it did precisely nothing when it came to sweating to death. Or rather, it did quite a lot and I was not wholly appreciative, my heavy boots clicked against the sidewalk, and I let my eyes wander around as I made my way towards my destination only a few blocks away. Shops lined the street, most, but not all closed for the day. Their wares were still plainly visible in their glass front begging people to browse and purchase, the foot traffic had lessened, not completely, but lessened, with most of the people out at this time of night either heading home from their work or stumbling into… or out of the many bars that are present in this section of the city.

I breathed in the air and idly looked up towards a wyvern perched along the roof of a building before I heard the chorus of footsteps behind me. Too many and too close together to be just a small random group, and the fact that the people in front of me were rather hurriedly crossing the street gave me a good idea of what was following just behind me. With my boots still on it was not at all hidden as to what I had found myself doing for a living, and my face was plastered over half of the town regardless. So these weren't random muggers, which meant… I had pissed someone off. Not a surprise, hell, I had expected something to happen. Though perhaps not this soon. Turning right at the end of the street I increased my pace, not quite a jog, but definitely a quick walk. They followed, but didn't speed up themselves, probably waiting for me to walk somewhere they could rough me up without too many witnesses.

Well.

I could oblige in that case. With another quick turn, I reached my destination, a small building, little more than one story with a crude drawing of a wyvern on a sign above the door. Walking past the door I made my way around to the back where a large barn door was set at the end of a ramp that led into the building's converted cellar. I could hear the sound of their boots on the grass nearby as I slipped the key I was given into the lock and swung the doors open. Darkness greeted me, darkness, along with the smell of flameproof hay. The building was a little family-owned shop that sold pets, and they also happened to have a space to take care of larger wyverns if necessary.

I briefly wondered who sent these men after me, but there was nothing that immediately came to mind. So instead I simply turned around and looked back up the ramp where they had started to make their way down. There were six of them, each fitting rather well the description of 'thug'. The sound of heavy breathing sounded out behind me, as did the sound of rustling hay as they approached. I was rather proud of my strength and endurance, but that meant very little against six men armed with canes and knives. "I would ask if you would simply consider backing away."

"'Fraid that isn't an option friend." One of the men says, a larger brute with a bald head.

"Are you sure?" I asked, idly moving my hands to my side as two of the men move to block the exit.

A laugh comes from the man, something echoed by the rest of his friends.

I snapped my fingers, and the laugh died immediately as Beithir's silver form came out of the darkness to hover over my shoulder. The men don't so much back off as flee from the building as fast as their legs could carry them, running off into the night to be away from the wyvern that appeared from the dark like a wraith.

I simply reached up to rub Beithir's snout, the wyvern in question growling happily. "Aye, good girl."

I slept in Beithir's stable that night.

---