Reynold gulped down the cold water and it slid down his throat, washing away his dry throat.
He slammed the empty cup onto the small wooden table with a satisfied sigh.
Walking to the small cracked mirror, he cinched the leather belt tighter around his waist.
He raked his right hand through his brown hair, arranging the strands before pulling them back and tying them at the nape of his neck.
He paused at the mirror, studying his reflection. The young man staring back at him was sharp-eyed, with his jaw set in a stubborn line.
He posed slightly before an arrogant smirk touched his lips, then he chuckled softly to himself.
From the small wooden tables, he retrieved a wooden medal and slipped it into his pocket.
Turning to the bed, he picked up two neatly folded pieces of fabric. Dragon Rider warrior uniforms. They belonged to his parents, and he had kept them well. There were still faded bloodstains on them.
He brought the uniforms to his lips and pressed a kiss to the fabric.
"I will get in," he murmured. "I will be bound to a dragon. I will find out what truly happened in that war a year ago. If your death wasn't natural, I swear... I will bend the knees of those involved and take back whatever they stole from us."
He sniffed, clenching the uniforms tightly before quickly stuffing them into a nylon bag and then into his worn, black leather backpack.
He had applied to the academy last year, right after the funerals, and this year, he had been selected for the physical trials.
Slamming the pack onto his shoulders, Reynold scanned the small room one last time. Nothing was left. He stepped out and closed the door, taking a deep breath of Terraverde city air for the last time.
He glanced back at the familiar house before turning and walking away.
Reynold walked.
Wyrmwood Academy was located in Argentum city. And Reynold was from Terraverde City.
Terraverde to Argentum City was a four-hour ride by carriage and a 7-hour journey by foot.
He dug his hand into his pocket and brought out a few coins. His fingers counted the few coins.
He nodded; it was enough.
He reached the carriage depot, paid the fare for a seat, and settled down to wait with the other passengers. He placed his backpack on his lap. Just then, a small, polished wooden ball rolled and stopped at his feet.
"Hey! You! Throw it back!" an arrogant voice barked.
Reynold glanced down at the ball, then up at the speaker, a slightly older youth with an overly clean tunic.
Reynold's eyes stared at the boy for a moment before he shifted his gaze away, staring off into a different direction.
"You freak! Did you just ignore me? I said throw it back to me!" the boy spat, gesturing to himself.
Seeing Reynold not moving to pick the ball, the boy's face flushed with rage. "You fucking bastard!" He lunged, his hand swinging and aimed at Reynold's face.
In an instant, Reynold caught the boy's wrist, his grip like iron. He bent the arm slightly, twisting the joint. "Pick it up yourself," he said.
The boy screamed, groaning as his knees buckled, forced down to retrieve the ball.
Reynold shoved him away, releasing the wrist.
The boy stumbled, landing hard on his backside, clutching his arm and glaring at Reynold.
"All aboard! We leave now!" the carriage owner announced.
Reynold swung his pack onto his shoulder and moved into the carriage, ignoring the boy who scrambled to his feet.
Inside, Reynold took a window seat. Moments later, the boy from outside entered. He froze when he saw Reynold, he swallowed and quickly took a seat as far away as possible.
The carriage started slow, then picked up speed. Four hours later, the grand, gleaming structures of Argentum City came into view.
Reynold stepped out, the air here was cooler than the air in Terraverde city.
He made his way through the bustling city, following the wide, cobbled road that led to the Academy district.
The Wyrmwood Dragon Academy was an architectural building with towers of polished white stone reaching skyward.
He was still several blocks away when a massive shadow passed overhead. He stopped, his head tilted back, watching as a silver-scaled dragon flew toward the main spire, the wings beating the air with powerful, echoing sounds.
Reynold's eyes tracked it until it was out of sight.
One day, I will be there, he thought.
He turned and walked on.
He arrived at the Selection Ground just as the great bell tolled, a deep sound that made the crowd cheer in excitement.
The field was filled with different faces.
Countless youths had come, traveling through mountains and rivers, ignoring the thousands of miles for them to be here.
For those from poor villages and with meager backgrounds, this was the single greatest opportunity to break their pre-determined fate and take the first step to becoming a Dragon Rider.
"I'm going to be bound to the strongest dragon," a youth near Reynold boasted.
"I hope mine will be smart enough to boost my martial techniques," another whispered.
Reynold overheard their hushed discussions.
Boosting martial skills through a dragon bond was a myth, a legend that hadn't happened for centuries.
The atmosphere was thick with different intense emotions. Most of them knew they would not be accepted.
In the past, the majority of the few selected were the children of High Officials and the wealthy.
This year, however, the selection was changed to be held in this big open field for all to see, to show fairness.
Reynold ignored the countless stares already glaring at him.
He passed through the crowds, heading toward the front line. As he pushed, the murmuring became intense.
"Is that Reynold Starweaver?someone asked. "
"I heard his parents died in the war last year."
"I also heard he tried for the selection when he was fifteen but was too weak. Couldn't even pass the first trial."
"Then what is he doing here? We certainly don't need weak people like him on the battlefield.""