23

Once inside the stadium, you find yourself staring at four different archways. You don't know how much time you have left, so adventuring isn't an option. You gaze around until you spot a map explaining the layout. Tracing your finger across the thick parchment paper, you find that you're at the main entrance, and the preparation boxes for competitors are to your left. You glance in the appropriate direction, and sure enough, find that no 'regular' pedestrian is walking that way.

You feel as if you're walking down the corridor of your dreams. Portraits of great riders who have raced on the track cover the walls, along with flags representing all the racing stables that have ever attended. The biggest flag, of course, belongs to the Ampleforth Racers, and it's hung with pride in the middle. You eye the flag, letting your eyes dance from color to color. You begin to raise your hand to feel the material when a long roar erupts from the end of the corridor.

With your mind back on the task at hand, you pick up your pace and head to the end of the hall. Here, the hall stretches out in width, and the areas are divided by large stone archways. The walkway is spacious enough to hold both rider and dragon comfortably. Staff members walk to their desired destinations, an unapproachable look on their faces. You catch on that the four stables present are the Air Raiders, Flying Drakes, Red Marauders, and Knights of the Stone. You know these names, as they're the largest and most successful stables in Abauruth.

Before you continue forward, a parchment to your left grabs your eye, a notice to all of today's racers. It states that those looking to compete should find an empty box and prepare before heading to the sign-up room further down the hall.

Next

You weave your way through the throng of people, finding yourself doing more dodging than anything else. Your precautions fail you when you end up running into someone regardless.

"Hey," he growls, turning to you and narrowing his eyes. He's a young man with long red hair and lovely emerald eyes, all of it standing out against his fair skin. A smirk appears on his face as he looks you over. "Let me guess, a racer?" He says his words as if the dragon standing by your side wasn't enough of an answer.

"Let me guess…" you begin.

He snorts, rolling his eyes as he looks you over yet again, a mischievous glint appearing in his eyes. "What gave me away, exactly?"

"You just have this…air about you," you sneer, causing him to laugh.

"I'm not getting the same air, which means you're either lost or a crazed fan. Just a heads up, the bleachers are that way, and you might want to return that lost dragon you happened to find." He pats you on the shoulder and walks away.

"Oh no, I've been injured. I guess I can't race after all," Silvertwister whines, and you give him a look that causes him to quiet down immediately.

Next