Page 67 of Wings of Destruction

Like anyone can rest easily with so much noise.

The thin blanket falls away and I press my feet flat against the cold stone and wince, the sensation chilling all the way up to my hips. Shivering, I cross the room.

I used to walk in the village when sleep was miles away. The trails at home were so familiar, so cherished, I could have maneuvered them with my eyes closed.

DragonSpear is an unfamiliar maze with traps and pitfalls around every corner. I’ve barely had a chance to explore outside of the treks between jobs. From one room to another, from the dragon aerie and back into this subterranean gym too old for the sensibilities of the precious students above, I don’t really know my way around.

But I can get back to the classroom. I can scan the book on battle tactics cover to cover without anyone watching over my shoulder.

I wrap my arms around my torso, the nightshift given to all the servants making no sound with my footsteps. The place is a mystery.

There’s nothing interesting on this level. It’s much smaller than the rest of the academy and makes me think this is one of the original areas. The finishes are old, crusty, rusted. Paint flecks away into piles on the floor—surely there are more important areas to clean than the space we call home—and most of the space is given up to the kitchens.

The main floors have everything I’ve ever needed. That night, I find the classroom, and grab a pile of books to explore. The following night, rather than going for the books, I explore the first floor. And the following night I hit the second floor.

My nightly rambles eventually grant me a boon.

Several days later, after exchanging my nightgown for a pair of clean and loose trousers stolen from the laundry, I head into a private gym just as luxe as everything else given to the nobility.

It’s the size of our dining room at home, large and intimidating. The gym has everything I could ever need.

The walls are decorated with racks of weapons, the mats soft underfoot, and the reinforced walls keep the noise within the room contained. I found out after accidentally knocking over several long lines of weights. They clattered against each other and slipped to the ground, and no one came running.

If the owner of the private gym ever makes use of it, I’ve never seen a hint of their existence. The space is kept spotless but there’s never anything out of place. Another week goes by before I’m comfortable using it on my own.

Someone’s got to.

If I’m going to be trapped in this hellscape existence then I’ll make the most of my time. Sleep is really a small thing to sacrifice to sneak into the private gym late at night and train.

Mopping won’t get me stronger. Or maybe it will, but I don’t need bulky arms. I need to work every part of me.

Dusting isn’t going to help me think through battle tactics and find a way to combat Roman Ryson’s devastation.

All of those activities are designed to keep me weak and docile, compliant in a way I’ve never been. I’m not the type to roll over and show my belly so why would I start now?

Senses on high alert, I creep along the halls into the private gym and slip through the door. The locks click into place behind me. The space is dim, lit only by the distant glow of the waxing gibbous moon outside. It’s a small matter to light a few candles.

I move unerringly toward the center of the room and work my neck from side to side to loosen the tension after another pointless day of cleaning.

There’s no one here to spot my form now, but the training my mom and sister gave me runs deep. Years of drilling these exercises together before everything went to the Void. Elspeth always used to hammer home the importance of hand-to-hand combat.

“You won’t always have your mount,” she’d say with an air of superiority as we sparred.

“I don’t have one anyway,” I’d joked back, dodging her next strike.

“With that attitude, Morgi, you never will!”

Elspeth had her unicorn. I had nothing. I hadn’t been chosen by a mount yet, which was supposed to change when I came to DragonSpear as a student.

Now those dreams are gone and destroyed. I have myself. Drawing in a deep breath, I lift my arms overhead, stretching them to the ceiling before hinging at the waist. I drape my arms, brushing my finger against the mat before lifting halfway and heading down to my stomach for a deep stretch in my lower back.

Nights are for stealing hours in the gym.

Days are for stealing seconds when I’m cleaning random classrooms to read through the books I’d be beaten for touching. I’ve been careful to keep on the lookout for Evie but so far, the pretty girl hasn’t made a repeat appearance.

It works in my favor.

Next time, she might not have Kieran with her to stop her from slapping me again. And I might not have an audience to keep me from thrashing her within an inch of her life. I call it a winning situation for us both.