Wild and Out of Control

|chapter three|

"The sparring ring is where riders are made or broken. After all, no respectable dragon would choose a rider who cannot defend themselves, and no respectable cadet would allow such a threat to the wing to continue training."

- MAJOR AFRENDA'S GUIDE TO THE RIDERS QUADRANT (UNAUTHORIZED EDITION)

------------------------------

|danica|

After reading the death roll, attending classes, and acing in Battle Brief, I was now in the place I've been dreading: the training gym on assessment day.

     It's not that I don't think I'll survive—no, I know that I will survive this, I was trained by my father's trainers after all. Not by him personally, though, but that never bothered me. I could handle bows and arrows, knives, and swords, including hand-to-hand. I have a fair chance of surviving on the mats, even winning some challenges.

     But it's Violet I'm worried about. She's only been training for six months and couldn't even wield a sword, let alone fend herself against an opponent. I've tried to train her alongside the trainer, but her mother has been strict with her training. She's standing next to me as we watch the dark-skinned girl with braids, named Rhiannon, fight with one of our Squadmates on the mat. Taylor, I believe his name was. Timothy, maybe? I shrug it off, not caring what his name is.

     She gets him on his back rather quickly, placing her hand at his throat. "Do you yield?" she asked, pushing harder. 

     Thomas, or something along the lines, tried to push back against Rhiannon, but his struggle only made her push harder. "No!" he shouts, hooking his legs around Rhiannon's, flipping them so she's on her back. She regains control and places him on his back again.

     "I don't know, Tynan. You might want to yield," Dain said from where he was standing across the mat. That's right. Tynan was the name. "She's handing you your ass."

     "Fuck off, Aetos!" Tynan snaps, causing Rhiannon the boot she has on his neck harder. He doesn't know when to yield. 

     His face begins to turn an ugly shade of purple and I'm afraid he'll get himself killed by his ego, but the Training Professor stops it before it gets ugly. "He yields," he calls out, and Rhiannon steps away from Tynan. He reaches for his throat as he takes in gulps of air. He pulls out his clipboard and reads off the next names. "You," he points to the pink-haired rider who has a rebellion relic crawling up her arm, "and you." My heart sinks as he points to Violet. No, not her. "While you," he points to me, "will have to spar with someone from First Wing due to the uneven numbers." He motions to another professor, and a blond boy stalks over.

     "Oh gods, not him," Violet mutters from beside me. She didn't seem scared when she found out she was to spar with a Separatist kid, but now she does when she sees who I'm supposed to spar. She confuses me every day.

     "Who's him?" I take in the blond's appearance. He wears exactly what every other boy in here wears, except he keeps his shirt on, unlike all the other boys in here. He is fairly built, muscles bulging in his arms and legs, but it's not the muscles that worry me. It's the look on his face. One that says he'll kill me when he gets the chance to.

     "He's the guy who almost killed me on Parapet." My head swings over, my eyebrows swing up toward my hairline. "Oh, did I not tell you? Well, his name is Jack Barlowe and I would try to win this spar, even if it's only assessment."

     I swear this girl. likes to give me heart attacks. "Same goes with you and Pinky. She'll want to kill you. Don't let it happen."

     "Oh, like that's not difficult at all. Like my mother wasn't the one who captured their parents and all."