Fire Breather

72.

   THREE days later, I was up to my neck in lesson plans I had been creating with the professors while also being thrown back into classes and then I had spent night after night doing numbers on food for cadets and sheep for dragons which told me that we needed more damn sheep for the hungry ass dragons.

All the cadets also had to share books and cram ourselves into every open room on the first floor for lectures. History was being held in my father's second office which used to be Garrick's father's, and we started a new until on the Tyrrish Rebellion yesterday so everyone could get the true facts on what happened six years ago.

Instead of challenges and hand-to-hand, Emetterio had us running the steep, rocky trail to the valley every day until half of us were throwing up. And Ulcies had taken over physics while Kylynn was set to take on flight maneuvers once the Assembly agreed we were safe enough to let the riot fly from the hidden protection of the valley. Then there was my mother who was teaching us healing in case any of us were to be poisoned by a venin or wyvern.

It also didn't help that Violet dropped by my door last night, stressing to me that Andarna would never be able to bear a rider. That only sent me digging through more of my father's tomes with her until three am this morning while also trying to help her translate Warrick's journal.

Then there was the other situation of my brother leaving with Suri and the other lieutenants two days ago to go scout for any riders that would be willing to join us.

"Holy shit," Ridoc breathed from beside me as we filed into the rebuilt theatre in the northwest wing of my home. "This place is huge."

And he was right. This was one of the three rooms I spent most of my childhood in with Xaden after our father built it for our entertainment. It was big enough for every cadet and it held more happy memories than I could count.

"I used to dress up and play on the stage," I mused, smiling to myself. "I even forced Xade and Bodhi a few times."

"Oh, I wish I saw that." Sawyer laughed from my other side.

"Welcome to Battle Brief," Rhia said, leading us halfway down the steps on the right and into our seats.

"Good. Maybe they'll tell us what's happening in Navarre," Visia said from the row ahead of us with Aaric, Sloane, and four other first-years beside her.

Unlike the Battle Brief room at Basgiath, this one had a map the height and width of the large stage where the curtain would hang, and it included the isles—the five large and thirteen smaller islands that surrounded the Continent in every direction.

"Those red and orange flags," Ridoc noted from my right, pointing up at the map. "Are those..."

"Enemy territory, I'm guessing," Sawyer remarked, sitting on Ridoc's other side.

"Not like Poromish enemy." Ridoc took out his pen and parchment as I did the same. "Like...dark wielder enemy."

"Right. Drained land and destroyed cities like Zolya. Red is old movement and orange is now," Violet noted, nodding her head. "Did you guys get letters to your families?"

The others couldn't give out our location, but they were allowed to warn their loved ones to leave the border region, or just leave.

They all nodded, with Rhiannon adding, "I'm hoping it convinces them to move."

Aaric didn't bother turning around in his seat directly in front of me. "I declined the offer to correspond."

"Imagine his face if you did," I snorted, tapping my pen against my knee. His father would shit himself if he knew Aaric had turned against Navarre.