As far as Gwen remembered, there were five species of Dragons.
The Forestfangs were called so due to their green scales and poisonous fangs that contrasted with their remarkable self-healing abilities. The red-scaled dragons were Ireflames with volcanic tempers just like their fire breath. The whites were known as Frostfeathers because of their feather-like tails and striking icy scales. They were rare to bond with, and Gwen couldn't spot any of them in the group before her. The indigo dragons were one of the most fierce and dangerous ones in the species. They were named Violetfuries due to their hot blue flames and cunning nature. Gwen spotted two of them resting on the top of the hill, gazing down at her like she was some lazy meal.
Gwen shuddered then looked around, searching for a Nightstorm. The black-scaled dragons were the most powerful, and dangerous between all the species of the Legendary fire breathers. They were extremely rare to bond with due to their fierce nature, however, they were just as intelligent. The only black dragon that she studied about was The Great Luther of Governor General Laurent Stryker of Kruvarys. The legendary dragon was one of the oldest to exist and aged back to the Great War 300 years ago.
Although she was grateful that she didn't spot any Nightstorm, an uneasy feeling settled inside of her considering that she didn't feel any connection with any of the fire breathers she passed. Even though one of the green Forestfangs in front of her seemed less threatening, she didn't feel any kind of pull towards any creature around her. Maybe she should consider going back to the Drakes and Wyverns and try to inspect them closely?
She almost considered the decision when Rose left her hand and started trekking towards the hill. The Violetfuries.
Gwen gasped nearly tripped on her feet when she hurried after her crazy friend who was more than tempted to get herself scorched— or worse— eaten alive by the indigo dragon who now stood and tilted its head to glare at Rose.
Gwen halted when the Violetfury stepped towards her friend in all its glory and the redhead bowed her head. Rose was bonded, Gwen realized as the blue-scaled creature bowed its head in front of Rose, marking the beginning of their bond.
A fresh wave of pride hit her chest as Gwen watched her friend talk to the dragon in awe. Of course Rose deserved one of the most powerful species of fire breathers. Not a drake, not a wyvern, but a dragon. A Violetfury at that.
She caught the gleam in Rose's eye as she looked at Gwen and she gave the redhead a knowing grin in response to the liveliness in her expression.
It was sooner when Rose jumped on her dragon's back and took a flight in the air, leaving Gwen to look for a bond between the fire breathers.
———
Hours passed, along with the occasional flights of the bonded and the incidental screams of the candidates seconds before they were eaten or reduced into ashes. Gwen couldn't hide the despair on her face when dawn struck and she couldn't bond with a fire breather. She was hopeless when she was shoved into a wagon with a number of other unbonded candidates and was transported to the Academy. Anxiety replaced her despair when she took in the fortified walls of Alarys Military Academy.
A bridge was constructed above a cliff followed by an enormous building that rose upon the square piece of hill. It was more like a castle with four forts spread out on every corner. Every grey stone was evenly stacked, as if those who built the place were set on perfection. As if they really loved what they made, regardless of the slaughterhouse it was. The sea rested on the castle's right side and on its left side stood The Great Dale; the magical home of the legendary fire breathers.
She, along with hundreds of other unbonded candidates were guided to a fort outside the Academy by a few soldiers. However, as they entered the premises, Gwen didn't have any time to look around before they were guided down the gloomy stairs. Soon enough, she was shoved into a tiny room with a single makeshift bed, a dresser and no windows whatsoever.
The cracked wooden door behind her closed and she sat on the dirty sheets, leaning on the old stone wall.
She sighed, "I should've known..."
Failing to control her emotions any further, she lashed out, "I should've known not to hope. Not to wish for anything nice," scalding tears glided down her cheeks as she cried, "You can't see me being happy, do you? You can't take it when I finally manage to hope. You just take and take from me even after knowing that I have nothing!"
She didn't bother to hide her emotions anymore. It didn't matter. She would never bond with any fire breather and these people would send her to Lorath to serve the cannibalistic gargoyles and their cruel masters.
"Why did you have to leave? Why did you have to run away like a coward and shove me into this hell?" she looked sky-wards, sobbing in despair, "I hate you, Edric. I hate you!"
Ever since he left, nothing was the same. She spent her days loathing herself, thinking that maybe she was the reason that Edric had ran away from home. That maybe he was scared of her because she was different. She punished herself by training everyday until she bled. Due to him, she was desperate to adjust in their society and finally be normal.
But now, she hated him.
She hated him because he ran away and left her to die in the hands of the military.
———
Days passed and she had a routine. Everyday, she woke up to eat breakfast. Then she was ordered to do some cleaning chore whenever she was needed. In the free time, she used to watch some of the bonded cadets flying on their Wyverns and dragons in the sky. In the five days that she was here, she never dared to go anywhere near her friend Rose.
How could she? Her friend had bonded with a mighty dragon, and here she was mopping the Academy floors. Unbonded and utterly vulnerable. She couldn't bear the embarrassment of telling Rose that she hadn't managed to bond with a fire breather and was now busy playing floor sweeper in the academy.
She sighed and tossed the mop into her bucket full of dirty water. She had just cleaned the ballroom floor that was a mess from the Pledging Event that the cadets celebrated the night before as a cheers to all the surviving candidates. She straightened and stretched her arms, now that the floor was scrubbed clean, she could finally rest in her room—
All her thoughts shattered when someone slammed into her from behind, sending her bucket flying, spilling all the dirty water on the floor. Before she could meet the ground herself, someone pulled her upwards, sending her back crashing into a hard chest.
"Careful, there." A deep masculine voice rumbled in her ear, sending some tingling sensations down her body. She slowly turned just to be met with a pair of magnificent dark eyes, boring into hers.
Even as she had a death-grip on his arm, she couldn't help but recognize the dangerously beautiful face of the man before her. His dark hair styled and pushed backwards, the ever so prominent scars on the left side of his face and the deathly edge to his marvelous features combined with the dark aura— she could never forget such a man.
The man she met when she was entering the wards to Mount Percival. The man she hated.
The thought sent a taunting reminder to Gwen as she untangled herself from his arms and staggered backwards.
"You!" the shameless desire that was brewing inside of her got replaced by a wave of anger when she caught a glimpse of his irritating smirk.
"Didn't make it out the trials after all?" he drawled in that husky tone of his that stirred something in her core.
Keep your shit together, Gwendolyn.
"I don't see why that has anything to do with you," she rolled her eyes and looked around at the mess. She groaned, "Look what you did! It took me three hours to clean this place."
The handsome asshole had the audacity to shrug, "That seems like a you problem."
He turned around to leave but Gwen wasn't done with him yet. No, she wasn't done with the arrogant motherfucker at all.
Angry, she took the mop, turned it around and striked him with the back of the stick, sending him tumbling forward.
He brought his hand up just below his nape where Gwen hit him and slowly turned around, his eyes wide with shock and another emotion that Gwen couldn't comprehend.
She raised her stick to hit him again but he raised his hand in a warning, his black eyes blazing with pure anger as he gritted out, "Don't you dare."
She rolled her eyes. Typical men, thinking that they could order her around whenever they wanted. He should've known not to dare her when she was frustrated.
She raised her stick to strike him again.
He can go fuck himself for all she cared. She was angry, and he seemed like the perfect punching bag.