Page 50 of On Wings of Blood

The crowd began to settle down. I looked around me as we waited, already seeing some familiar faces from the classes that morning.

Then I spotted Regan. Across the courtyard, standing in the shadow of the black dragon. She was flanked by Visha and Quinn.

Our eyes met and she smiled, then raised a hand to give a little wave. My jaw clenched. I curled my hands into fists by my side.

Theo and Coregan stood nearby her, but their eyes were fixed on the headmaster. Blake was nowhere to be seen.

I forced my gaze away from Regan. I’d have to deal with that problem later.

A hush had fallen over the crowd. The only sound now was the whisper of the leaves.

“Welcome to another term at Bloodwing.” Headmaster Kim’s voice resonated across the courtyard, dripping with gravitas and not sounding particularly welcoming at all. “I’m sure most of you are familiar with my face by now, but for those who are new, my name is Kim Min-jun and I have the great honor of being headmaster of Bloodwing Academy. Now, let us begin.”

He paused and the silence seemed to deepen. “You are here not by chance, but by design. This academy is a forge where the future leaders and warriors of Sangratha are shaped. Ourpurpose is clear: to create those who will defend this realm from its enemies, both within and without. You are the sword’s edge of Sangratha.”

He paused, his gaze sweeping over us.

“First Years,” he intoned. “Whether you will become part of that sword’s edge remains to be seen. You have been chosen to join our ranks at an academy where only the most determined will prevail. If you falter, make no mistake. You will be discarded. Hard work and punctuality are no longer optional. They are requirements. Respect is not negotiable. It is absolute. Deviations from Bloodwing’s high standards will result in swift punishment. Mediocrity will not be tolerated here.”

I stood taller, a little shaken, but refusing to let his words intimidate me.

“To the blightborn students in our midst,” Headmaster Kim continued, his tone shifting slightly. I caught an edge of disdain. “Your presence here is a privilege. You are here to serve. And you will bow to the authority of your betters in all things. Any failures to demonstrate the proper deference will be met with severe consequences.”

A pause followed as he surveyed his audience.

“But for those who excel,” he continued, his tone softening ever so slightly. “There will be rewards. Attendance at the Wintermark Ball will be granted to those who show exceptional performance in Term One. And for those of you who survive your first year, there will be other privileges, such as access to Veilmar on weekends. These are privileges to be earned, not given. They are reserved for those who can prove themselves exceptional.”

His eyes locked onto us with a steely gaze. “Bloodwing demands excellence. It will draw excellence from you like fangs draw blood.”

A titter of nervous laughter rose from the crowd, but only, I noticed, from the highbloods. None of the mortals were laughing.

Headmaster Kim smiled thinly. “So, strive to be the best or face the consequences. Sangratha is no place for the weak or unworthy. If you cannot meet these expectations, you will find yourself cast out.”

I glanced at Florence. Did he mean cast out from Bloodwing? Or from the kingdom itself?

But the dark-haired girl was staring straight ahead, her lips tight. I looked around at the other blightborn students. They looked as nervous as she did. And these were students who were already supposed to be the best of the best. They had fought just to get here. I was here by random chance. So how should I feel?

As the headmaster continued speaking, I felt a prickle of unease across the back of my neck. It wasn’t metaphorical. The sensation was palpable. A cold, invasive pressure bearing down upon me like a vise. With effort, I managed to turn my head. Sure enough, Regan Pansera was smirking at me from across the crowd.

My limbs gave a sudden jerk. Florence turned to look at me but my lips were frozen shut.

I took a step back, then another. I bumped into a student and they snapped at me, but I couldn’t even apologize.

My body was no longer under my own control.

CHAPTER 9 - MEDRA

My feet moved without conscious volition as I turned around and walked towards the back of the crowd. The sea of students parted slightly to make way for me. I felt their strange looks. A low chatter was beginning as I stubbornly pushed my way to the edge of the crowd.

I approached the black stone dragon. Unable to even lift my head to look upwards, I could nevertheless feel its fierce visage gazing down upon me.

I moved around the statue to the back and stretched out my fingers. The rough texture of the stone scraped my skin as I started to climb, every movement propelled by a will that was not my own.

My body might not have been my own but my feelings were. And with every desperate grip and foothold, my sense of humiliation deepened, the weight of my predicament pressing down on my shoulders like a physical force.

The crowd’s murmurs grew louder as more and more students began to notice my ascent up the dragon’s back. Regan wouldn't permit me to move my head a muscle beyond where she wanted it, but I could still hear the snickers bubbling up from the sea of faces below me. My cheeks burned with shame as I climbed higher and higher.

The dragon’s black basalt head loomed closer as I dug my fingers into its cold and unyielding surface. My hands were covered with scrapes from the rough stone and my fingertips were cracked and bleeding by the time I reached the top.

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