The Immortal / Fourth Wing

Chapter Seven

POV: Xandor Galadon

It was the next morning.

Unlike the day before, everyone was dressed in rider black while I wore the same thing as yesterday. I had switched the cloak for a thinner one, as the symbols on the back had attracted more attention than I had wished, and it was still summer.

Three scribes stood on the stone dais and the old one from the day before read out names. Names of the candidates that didn't make it.

On my shoulder was the Fourth Wing patch and and on my chest a single silver four-pointed star.

Yesterday, the riders had handed out standard uniforms, but they were way too small for me, so I was allowed to keep on wearing whatever I wore under my cloak.

The sleeping conditions have been interesting to say the least. Since the small bunkbeds were not made for people like me, I had slept in the very corner of the big room, hidden in the shadows. Many had pulled their cots away from me and it was amusing to watch that only their exhaustion got them finally to fall asleep.

"We commend their souls to Malek. "The scribes finished and left the courtyard.

"Hopefully you all ate breakfast, because you're not going to get another chance before lunch." Dain's voice broke the silence as he addressed out unit. "Second- and third-years, I'm assuming you know where to go." The mutter of agreement from the senior cadets filled the courtyard. I knew where to go too, but I would play my role like a good dog. "First-years, at least one of you should have memorized your academic schedule when it was handed out to you yesterday."

"Stick together. I expect you all to be alive when we meet again this afternoon in the sparring gym." I loved sparring. I was able to shut down my body to a certain extend that humans would have a slight chance to land a blow. Most probably would still not but they could always try.

"And if we're not?" A first-year in front of me asked. "Then I won't have to be concerned with learning you name since it will be read off tomorrow morning." Dain shrugged.

"Sawyer?" Dain looked at the tall, wiry cadet to Violet's left.

"I'll get them there," he answered with a tight nod. He was one of the cadets who were not chosen the year before and now had to redo the whole year once again.

"Get going," Mr. Nice ass ordered and the formation in the courtyard broke apart. "We have about twenty minutes to get to class. Fourth floor, second room on the left in the academic wing. Get your shit and don't be late." Sawyer shouted and walked off. I had everything I needed on me, so I set off.

******

"Welcome to your first Battle Brief."

The female Professor said from the front of the massive room. Ever seat in the enormous lecture hall was taken and the senior third-years were standing against the walls behind them, as well as I. I chose a shadowy spot in the corner where I could observe everybody who had entered in the last few minutes.

Professor Devera paced slowly in front of the twenty-foot-high map that was mounted to the wall behind her, that was intricately labeled with Navarre's defensive outposts along their borders. The room was illuminated by dozens of mage lights that flew around.