Posting from Book 8 of The Academy of the Accord series this month. Terhesh is a Wyverian, a race that looks rather like a human/dragon hybrid: they have wings, a tail, scales instead of skin, and talons on their toes. He is roughly fifteen years old.
Picking up a few paragraphs from last week’s snippet. Radenth is being treated in the infirmary and Terhesh is trying to stay out of the way. He has been talking to Brythel, the cadet that stood at his side earlier.
Both of them were on their feet, Brythel in respect and Terhesh standing defensively in front of him, his eyes flaring as he faced another warrior, this one accompanied by a Master.
“It’s all right,” Brythel said, touching his shoulder. “Terhesh, this is Marsden, the Commander of the garrison, and his wizard, Vinadi, our Headmaster. Commander Marsden, Master Vinadi, this is Terhesh.” He looked up at Marsden. “He’s a Warder, sir.”
Marsden nodded. “Welcome to the Academy of the Accord, son,” he said, extending his hand. “And I want to apologize for your earlier reception.”
“Thank you, sir. And it was no more than what I should have expected.”
“Maybe at Arcane,” Marsden said. “But not at Accord. Rest assured, they will be dealt with. That sort of behavior is not tolerated here.”
“It is not tolerated from apprentices, either,” Vinadi said. He was a bit taller than Marsden, lean, with short sandy brown hair and blue eyes surrounded by smile lines, and Terhesh hesitantly accepted his outstretched hand: touching a Master was forbidden. “I know that at Arcane they look down on the warriors, think of them as nothing more than hirelings, but that is not our way.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Marsden gave his upper arm a friendly squeeze. “I’ll let you get settled,” he said. “We’ll get a full report later after you’ve had some food and a chance to get your bearings.”
“Bry,” Vinadi said. “I believe I saw lights in the dining hall and smelled food. Would you take Terhesh?”
“And tell Kord to save some for the rest of us,” Marsden growled.
Brythel grinned. “Yes, sirs.” He touched Terhesh’s arm. “Come on.”
Terhesh was lost in confusion. This was not what he had come to expect of humans. No one was calling him names or avoiding him, and everyone seemed friendly and accepting of him, as if it was the most natural thing in the world for a Wyverian to be among them.
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