The Bane of Light

Study Group On the Diabolic.

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After spending the rest of my day sleeping like the dead, I  woke up hours before I was expected at Richmond Hall. At exactly six p.m, a half hour before we agreed to meet up, and a half hour before Paris returned from Wyvern practice, I disappeared between the shadows and emerged from the corner of Paris' empty bedroom. I hadn't intentionally chose the corner, only dropped in where the shadows were deepest in the room. When on the other side of the veil, I could only sense darkness, not furniture or any other physical indicators. So I was thankful I didn't pop up from under his bed or some other, less dignifying location.

Upon emerging in Paris' room, I stepped out from the shadows, which had darkened and thickened to accommodate my presence, straining to keep me invisible in the bright lighting. It would be of no use to me if I could be spotted in the shadows, for they were meant to conceal me, not reveal. Stealthily, I surfaced from the shade, and if anyone were watching, they would see my floating head first, then my shoulders and the rest of my body as I emerged.

Paris room was very...Paris. It was decorated in light blue and gold, with his family crest on a lapis banner hanging from his stone wall. It was bright, and I realized I would have to keep our visits limited to after sunset, because his dorm directly faced the West. Splendid.

I began to snoop about his room, attempting to find anything was remotely useful for leverage. His room was tidy, everything in their designated spots and stored away neatly, so I had to pay extra attention to the items that I picked up. He had framed diplomas on the walls, rewarded to him for his outstanding achievements, both in the scholastic and magical field. A shelf was littered with his Wyvern Fray Relay Trophies and medallions, each from sixth year and up. I knew first hand, that the sport brought in many, many winnings for our school. As it's captain and lead rider, even more so for Paris.

The Wyvern Fray Relay istelf, or as the school nicknamed it "The Fray" , was our schools pride and joy. It was a dragon relay that the administration pumped millions of dollars into each year. Our team was undefeated, and the players took cocky pride in it, Clairmont especially. In my opinion, it was simply an overrated version of arial polo, where the riders replaced the pony's with twenty-foot, fire-breathing serpents .

The goal of the game was ultimately to make a shot in the other teams goal, the dragons trained to carry specialized, two-ton, golden balls through flaming hoops. The goal itself was a huge, golden torch that stood 100 feet in the air, waiting for a dragon to hurl the burning ball into it and light it aflame.

The catch was that the dragon could only ignite the ball while going through the final goalie hoop, seeing that if they did it any earlier, it would burn their feet (the one part of their body that wasn't covered in fire-proof, wyvern scales). They couldn't avoid it, seeing that if they curled their feet up to protect the soles, they would drop the ball. But by waiting to light the ball on the flame of the goalie hoop, the dragons would only hold it for a millisecond, before methodically throwing it up at the torch. Once the torch lit aflame, the ripple of heat, so bright that it momentary blinded you, informed the entire audience of the win.

Though the wyverns themselves were captivating to watch, their sleek bodies rippling with sheer strength and cunning speed, I held no other interest with the game. I admired wyverns, but not enough to sit through five hours of watching them tussle for a ball. The mage put them up to it, demeaning them and their intelligence, so it was unbearable for me to watch. It was practically abuse that these beautiful creatures were reduced to such mockery.

I let the Wyvern Fray medal fall back on the shelf, before moving on. I continued shuffling about Paris' room, poking at his riding leathers, skimming through his books incase he carved them out to hide items, like I did, and going through his drawers, hoping to find something useful. My efforts were fruitless, as I found nothing. Absolutely nothing. The only thing that would have been mildly interesting, was his possession of Aline's locket, but I was there when he took it so there was no mystery behind the item.