Flight Survival 101

     A deep bell reverberated off the dark obsidian walls. I raced up the last three flights of stairs and ducked through the doorway labeled Flight Gym.

     “Nice of you to join us, Mr. Nogero.” Professor Nykko folded his beefy arms and scowled. The vein in his neck pulsed, and his thick red mutton chop seemed to jump as he ground his teeth.

My brother had warned me never to upset Professor Nykko. He controlled who practiced flight time on the simulator, and who got actual flight time with the Trydons. So far, worst start to the school term. Ever.

     “Apologies, Professor,” I ducked my head and retreated to the back of the group.

     Nykko grunted and turned back to the class, “As I was saying, today we’ll be testing your natural aptitudes for creature management. Pass, and you’ll be out there flying in no time. Fail,” Nykko’s eyes lingered on me, “and you’ll stay grounded until next year.”

     I set my jaw. Admittedly, my first class could’ve started better, but I wouldn’t fail today. I’d known from the moment my brother had described his first flight, I was born to be a Trydon Rider. 

     “Who knows the Trydon Riders’ motto?” Nykko glowered.

     The hand of a girl with braids shot into the air, a lone spire among downturned faces.

     “Nogero?” Nykko raised an eyebrow.

     I glanced around the group. The girl with braids lowered her hand, her face impassive.

     “Futures unbound as on our wings and dreams we soar,” I mumbled.

     Nykko’s eyes narrowed. “Your brother was the most talented rider to ever graduate from this academy. Shame his reputation’ll be tainted by association to you.”

     My fists clenched, and I stared at the ground. All my life, I’d lived in my brother’s shadow. Nothing I did ever measured up to what he’d accomplished. No one knew how hard he’d trained to obtain those achievements. 

     “I’ve watched you, Ezren,” my brother had encouraged, “What I studied for, you know by instinct. They think I’m amazing, but you’ll blow ‘em away. Just don’t miss Nykko’s class.”

     Nykko approached a control panel at the end of the gym and typed in several commands. A hiss and mechanical whine filled the air as the wall retracted into the ceiling.

     Wind howled through the hangar door, and we glimpsed three Trydons soar by outside.

     “Mind the step,” Nykko grinned, revealing gold teeth, “It’s a long way down.” Several students gasped and turned pale. “At midterms, you’ll stand here and attempt to call a Trydon to you. For finals, you’ll see if you can persuade one to bow and invite you for a ride.”

     And for graduation, I mentally added, you leap from the hangar entrance into the unknown and pray your bonded Trydon will swoop in and save you. If not, well, failure was rather permanent. 

     School alumni often bragged, “You’ll never meet an academy failure.”

     Nykko turned and led the class to the other end of the gym, where the smooth walls transitioned into natural cavernous alcoves. A chorus of chirping drifted out of the last stall.

     “Today, we’ll evaluate your skills with the beasts. We’ve a nest of Trydons,” Nykko’s hand swept toward the chirping. “One at a time, you’ll go and retrieve an eggshell fragment from the nest. Best avoid the mother. She’s downright nasty if you upset her chicks.” He grinned and folded his arms. “Who’s first?”

     Mother Trydons were wild and unpredictable. They never bonded and turned deadly at the slightest provocation. Two rules applied when dealing with Trydons: Give them respect, and they’ll respect you; also, never upset a nesting Trydon mother.

     The girl with braids strode forward, head held high, a relaxed pace to her gait. The chirping inside grew louder. Her soft voice echoed off the rocks as she soothed the young Trydons. She emerged moments later with a piece of blue eggshell in her hand.

     “Excellent,” Nykko collected the shell and flashed her an approving smile.

     A large boy volunteered to go next, strutting forward with chest out and a cocky grin. Loud squawks and a hissing noise, followed by a snapping sound and several shouted obscenities. The boy scrambled back to the safety of the group, his clothes sported several tears, and blood trickled from numerous small bites.

     Never display dominance around a mother Trydon. Every idiot knows that.

     Nykko frowned and grunted at the boy. “Nogero,” Nykko jerked his head toward the alcove.

     I took a breath and trudged forward. After that idiot had upset her, the mother Trydon wouldn’t trust the next visitor so willingly. I kept my eyes down as I approached the nest. The chirping crescendoed. 

     The mother hissed, large leathery wings extended, and snapped her beak. I stopped, crouched on one knee, and lifted one hand forward, palm up. The mother reached her triangular head toward me, red eyes blazing, then snapped her beak.

     Eyes still locked on the ground, I raised my offered hand to touch the underside of her beak. I ran my hand gently down the underside of her head, murmuring soothingly. 

     She eyed me. I made a soft clicking noise and she cocked her head. I made the sound again as I lifted both arms to the side and bowed toward her. She paused, then imitated the sound back to me, copying my movement, dipping her head toward the ground, wings outstretched. The classic position of invitation a Trydon assumed when accepting a rider to bond and join them in flight.

     I stood and gave her a pat on the neck. “Just need a piece of shell today, girl. You look after those little ones, okay?” She chirped as I collected my reward. The chicks hopped and flopped around us.

     I deposited my prize into Nykko’s hand and savored the wide-eyed expression marring his features as he stared at the eggshell.

     I smiled and melted into the background. Just a few more months, and I’d be up in the sky, right where I belonged.