Thanks to @armoury for the beta!

---

I would happily admit to any that asked in the future that I grinned like a damned fool the entire flight from London to Dover. If asked why I didn’t bother containing my excitement or acting like the adult I presented myself as it would come down to one simple answer. How could I damn well not? I was a farmer -and a damned good one at that- but coos have a distinct ability to stay on the ground. This… was simply magical.

“You are going to stain my windows if you continue to drool on them.” Morrigan said, amusement clear as the glass she spoke of in her voice.

“An’ all wash ‘em for ya.” I replied, not taking my eyes away from the glass.

The sun had well and truly set by the time we had approached Dover, but that didn’t stop me from seeing the landscape. The famed white cliffs were well illuminated by the town surrounding it, and lanterns streaked through the night sky as wyverns and carriages just like ours came and went across the channel. A gigantic domed structure sat near the castle on the cliffs, and the light from its interior made the glass glint like a Christmas bauble in a store window, and even from my distance away I could see stands and a gigantic pit square in the middle of it. Through the glass I could also make out a wyvern, white in color, making rapid circles in the air over the stands, it spun and twisted in the air, cartwheeling and putting on a death-defying performance.

Further down the road from it, nearer to one of the cliffs overlooking the town that sat on the beach, was a large oval-shaped building, much the same as the one I left in London. There I could see carriages and heavier ships, dozens of them, either taking off, staying, or coming into England itself. One wyvern, in particular, caught my eye, coming in for a landing, a gargantuan black beast, so black it would be invisible in the night except for the lights tacked along its side. Twin flags hung from the rear of the container it was hauling behind it, the French flag trailing behind in its wake.

“How busy is this town?” I asked a stupid question.

“Dover is the busiest wyvern-port in England. Shipping, tourism, there’s hardly a dull moment. Though we aren’t going into Dover itself.” Morrigan responded.

I looked back to see the woman looking out the opposite window. “We aren’t?”

Morrigan shook her head, then pointed out the direction she was looking. “The school is situated about three miles outside of town, best for giving the wyverns space to fly without causing any… accidents.”

I slid across the cushioned bench and looked out the opposite pane of glass. There, just faintly in the distance, I could make out a rather large brick building that stood apart from everything else around it. No houses, no other parts of the town were near it, but the building itself was an entire complex, and as we slowly curved to get closer I could make out more of it. The main building was four stories or so tall with a wide flat roof, it didn’t even have a center. Instead, a large courtyard made up the middle of the building, something I got a good look at as the carriage made a wide circle to come to a rolling stop in front of the building itself.

To the right of the main building was another large structure, and it was the second building I had ever seen in an oval shape. Except this one was much shorter than the last; it could not possibly be taller than my barn, and that was even if I included the stands that gave it most of its height. The entire center was an open dirt track, through which stood tall posts with large rings sitting atop them. What it was used for was beyond my understanding, but it was easily three to four times longer than the main building itself. Beyond that was the largest of all of the structures, of which there were many more littered throughout the rolling, grassy land the school was situated in.

“What on God’s green earth is that?” A gargantuan dome made of metal and glass, easily the size of the track if not bigger, the base of the structure was stone, probably a good dozen feet high before glass piled up from it to form a large half-circle that completely enclosed the building. Through the grass, I could make out trees and rock formations, including a large cliff that jutted proudly over a winding river.

“The aviary,” Morrigan responded, and a click of the door revealed that not only had we landed during my gazing, but she had moved to exit the carriage as well. “I can give you the tour once your wyvern arrives, for now, you must be famished.”

---

“Your wyvern is on course to arrive tomorrow, just as I promised,” Morrigan said simply, popping a bit of the steak into her mouth before lightly dapping at her lips with a napkin. “We shall be starting your training immediately once it has become situated in the aviary. I would suggest rest immediately after dinner.”

I nodded as I cut into my meal, far fancier than I was used to… but not quite fancy enough that I felt awkward eating it. I felt more awkward about the building I was currently situated in. The office in London was fancy. Crawford’s apartment was nice. This was simply too much. Tall painted walls rose to an arched ceiling, and the arch itself was glinting with some form of gold. The lights inside the building causing it to shine in different ways for every angle I turned my head. The walls were lined with tall windows, so clean and large that when I looked at the courtyard I almost felt like the room was open to the outdoors.

Upon entering the ‘grand hall’ -as she had called it, though I could not argue against the name- I was quickly sat at a table, whereupon a rather extensive amount of servants had seemingly appeared out of a damned fae’s circle to bring in food. The table was longer than my house, and more than likely worth a fair bit more as well. It was only one of many spread across the gigantic hall, the room taking up the entire side of the building I had entered from. It made me nervous, though I tried my best not to show it as I ate. “Thank you fer the dinner. And yer hospitality.”

“Welcome, of course,” Morrigan replied. “I do hope it is up to your standards.”

I arched a brow but carefully said nothing as I finished off the last mouthful. The moment my utensils crossed over the ceramic plates they were both lifted away from the table by a servant, who moved with such smooth, fast grace that I had to wonder if he had somehow known when I would put down my plate before I did. No sooner than I thought that, another servant stepped and gestured… something. I stared at him, attempting to decipher the gesture as he repeated it.

“He’s politely offering to show you to your room,” Morrigan smirked in my direction, and if I had any doubt she was taking the piss out of me before, she dispelled it with as little as a short breath that was just barely not a giggle.

“Ah… thanks.” I stood up and gave Morrigan one final nod with about as much thankfulness as I could muster without words. Her smile became less teasing; kinder, I hoped, though I had not seen enough of her smile to know what that would look like. I stepped out of the grand hall and into one of the two hallways that lead out of it. In this case, it was the western hallway, which quickly cornered and turned north to reveal one straight and relatively thin (in comparison) hallway that went all the way down to the next corner of the building. The relative narrowness of the space afforded extra room along the sides for what I thought to be dorm rooms, as there were a good dozen or so doors along each side. How they managed to fill up this much space I hadn’t the slightest idea, but I did not ask the servant. The only sound in the corridor was our shoes clicking and clomping against the decorated stone floor.

As we walked I took in the hallway itself. It was far less tall than the grand hall, though I would have imagined that was in part because the grand hall reached up to the very top of the building itself. Here it was a more manageable height, though it was in all honesty no less grand than the hall itself. Paintings lined the walls between each door, depicting knights like those my father used to tell me about in stories, charging on horseback into raging beasts… wyverns generally. Other’s depicted famous historical scenes, most of which I only vaguely recalled from half-remembered history lessons, like that of William the Bastard leading his Norman-Drakes at the battle of Hastings.

In other places, there were statues placed in alcoves, some busts of past students or school members, even full-sized statues of figures of… some renown I was sure. The servant eventually came to a stop at the far end of the hall, to his right was a large wooden door, the only thing distinguishing it from the rest was that it is sat nearest to the corner of the hallway, giving it easy access to a carved nook situated beneath the tall windows that allowed for a view outside.

Without a word, the servant bowed his head and opened the door, and I took the invitation to step inside. It was...

Horrific.

The room was half the size of my entire home, and was disgustingly ornate. A tall and wide bed sat against the far right corner, covered in plush sheets and blankets as it sat a good four feet above the floor itself. A window was just to its left, pouring moonlight into the room and revealing that the place had its own dresser, mirror, two chairs and a rug that more than likely cost more than any of the coo I had sold to get here.

I stared at it, not saying a word as the door was closed behind me. A fireplace sat in the far left corner, sealed with an empty rack of wood beside it. Beyond that, and a large closet, it was empty, but what was there was… enough. Taking slow steps forward I unbuttoned my best and tossed it onto one of the nearby chairs, my hand reaching out to press against the mattress of the bed.

…

“Why in the name that is good and proper would someone need three pillows on a single person bed?”

---

To say I slept well that night would be like saying a goat was a sheep. In that some concepts are similar, but little else. There was sleep, it was far from good. I was awoken later than I was used to by a knock on the door, and before I could even start to respond to it the door swung open, revealing a rather pretty young woman in a maid’s outfit staring down at me.

Not for the reasons one might expect however, no, she wasn’t looking down on me because I wasn’t fitting in very well, or even that I was the superior breed of the Isle. It’s because I was sleeping on the floor. The blankets from the bed were laid out beneath me, one (and the only one I needed) of pillows situated behind my head as I used the sheets as an actual blanket on top of myself.

“Why are you… sleeping on the floor sir?” the maid asked.

I slowly raised a hand to rub at my eyes, then gestured to the now ransacked bed. “If ah were to lay down in that thin’, ya’d never see me again. Ah’d be swallowed up like Jonah i’ the whale.”

The maid’s lips drew into a thin line, but she didn’t comment on the state I had left the room in. Instead, she stepped away from the door. “We have prepared a bath and fresh clothing for you sir.”

“Well thank ya kindly.” I grumbled as I sat up, one hand moving to run down my face before I stumbled after her. The maid’s eyes briefly looked me up and down, for what reason I couldn’t say given that I was still wearing my clothes, then turned on the spot and led me away. It was a short walk to the bathroom, a surprisingly private space not far away from my bedroom. I was, admittedly, expecting something more… public, given that I was in a dorm space. But it was indeed private, with a bath full of hot water and an entire set of… not sure what I was supposed to call them exactly, cleaning products I supposed.

In any case. I took my time to relax… I hadn’t had a hot bath in quite some time.

---

The bed was too soft, the soaps were too flowery, and the clothing they prepared for me was…

I patted down the light blue patterned tunic I was wearing. I would call myself a fop if I didn’t feel like I was doing fops everywhere a great disservice in my choice of dress. A light blue tunic, a pair of black trousers, and a pair of rather tight shoes I had trouble getting on. It did however seem to be made with something approaching practicality in mind, in that the trousers were cut as to allow riding an animal easier, and the tunic was padded with cloth on the inside far more than one would normally see. I also took the time to shave, because if I was to look like a fop I might as well go all the way. That, and I hadn’t had an excuse to do so in quite some time.

I walked into the grand hall, idly rubbing at my smooth chin, not quite used to the feeling of bare flesh there. Morrigan was already present, situated at the same seat she was the night prior. What had changed was her choice in apparel. Gone was the dress she wore so well yesterday, today instead she was dressed in a tunic quite similar to my own. So similar, in fact, that were it not for the fact that her fiery red hair was on clear display I may have not recognized her, given how it bulked up her figure while hiding her more feminine features.

I knew precious little about wyverns, but I would have imagined that when it comes to riding the beasts, that ideas of ‘fashion’ go out the door rather quickly. Not when the hulking animals could breathe fire and can give you a skull-knocking that would make a bull tuck its tail in shame.

“You shaved.” Morrigan said, idly bouncing her foot off the ground.

It wasn’t a question, but I deigned to answer anyway. “Aye, wouldn’t do me well to let Beithir burn my beard off. Where are the rest of the students?”

The grand hall, barring myself and her, was empty. There wasn’t any food left out, or anything in the way of servants either. I did not think I had seen any students the night before either, but at the time I hadn’t thought much of it.

Morrigan lowered the cup and gestured for me to sit. “Out of season, all of my students are back home with their parents. We keep the training towards the colder months of the year, the heat does poorly for them in their armor, not to mention the wyverns in their barding.”

I nodded and took the offered seat, leaning back against the headrest and idly kicking my leg against the floor. “And yerself?”

“I live here, of course, the school is also my home.” Morrigan gestured at her ‘dining room.’ Gaudy or not, she had better china than me.

I smiled, slightly. “Aye, it’s nice of what ah’ve seen of it, perhaps a bit big for my tastes.”

“I would imagine, why my servants have told me the most awful rumor, that you slept on the floor. Nothing true about that I hope.” Morrigan asked, looking rather desperate for me to refute that.

I shook my head. “Aye, ah did. The room was… pleasant ah suppose, but the bed was far from nice.”

Morrigan arched a brow, one hand lightly tapping on the table even as one of the servants approached out of the corner of my vision with a loaded tray. “Those beds are some of the finest to be had.”

“Aye, and if they are the finest then ah’m terrified to see what Londoners consider the worst.” I replied as the servant poured Morrigan a cup of coffee; steaming as a drunkard after divorce, and black as the earl of hell’s waistcoat.

Morrigan’s eyes narrowed. “Jock.”

I simply smiled. “Mick.”

“Eggs sirs?” the butler offered, making us both turn our heads to the offered breakfast.

“Of course.” Morrigan replied.

Breakfast was with little conversation.

---

Morrigan pushed open the doors to the aviary, and I am not ashamed to admit I gawked. The structure was even larger up close, and I stared in amazement at the fact that an entire forest had been built on the property. Hundreds, if not thousands of trees filled the interior, ranging from proud oaks to mighty pines that nearly scratched the ceiling. I walked forward dumbly after Morrigan as she entered, the doors shutting behind us as we walked.

The first thing that hit me was the sound of birds, dozens of them chirping away inside the aviary. The second thing was a distant waterfall, and my head turned to see a massive font of water coming down on the far end of the aviary from a tall cliff face. Rocks lined that entire side of the glass, allowing a rather dominant view of the area below to anyone who managed to get up there. Closer to myself was a series of small buildings and various bits of equipme-

My musings were interrupted by a roar, and a familiar one at that. My head jerked from the buildings towards the treeline as a silver and white wyvern launched itself out of it. It shot upwards like a firework, the light of the sun glistening off of its scales as it screamed through the air. It turned in its climb to be parallel to myself and Morrigan, and I felt my jaw drop as I stared at it, my expression turning into a grin a moment later.

Beithir… was flying.

The wyvern flapped its wings, lurching upward more into the air. As I watched, it pulled its wings back, arching itself into a curve as its legs jutted outwards. With the sound of a muffled boulder hitting stone it came to a perched stop along the cliffside like a bird, and lowered its head back to lightly nip at the blisters along its wings.

“Oi! Don’t pick at it ya dumb beast!”

Beithir paused in its nibbling, turning its head all the way back like a snake to look at me. Its knees then bent, and I felt a brief sense of… dread as it shifted its position so that it was facing me across the aviary.

Then it launched itself, with a mighty flap of its wings it was off once more like a bullet.

Barreling straight towards me, mouth glowing.