Page 54 of Black Wing and Shadows
“Why are they attacking us?” someone asked.
“We also don’t know—but generally, attacks and wars always come down to power,” Melamora said.
“But they are human… we are Fae, clearly more powerful,” another said.
“Don’t assume they aren’t powerful, because they aren’t Fae. We also believe that they do have Fae amongst the ranks. That wasn’t a question though,” Pascal said.
“Did we attack back or rather were we able to?” I asked, the question had been burning in my throat.
“Great question. Yes, we did. Riders were able to seize the ship,” Melamora said.
“Did interrogations happen?” I asked her. It seemed she wanted us to pry information from them, not giving us anything we didn’t ask.
“No…”
I swore she was going to tell me, but after a few heartbeats, she didn’t carry on, making me ask. “Why?”
“There were only two people on board, both were dead when the Riders boarded the boat. Both had self-inflicted wounds. There was a machine of sorts that assisted in launching the arrows in large scale,” Fogg said, shifting under his feet.
I felt the swallow go down hard. What did that mean? Why? Murmurs amongst cadets started.
“Let’s shift this, third and fourth-years please refrain from answering. What should we do to prevent the next attack?” Pascal asked.
Hands shot into the air. Pascal pointed to a male cadet in the back.
“Extend sky patrols farther out over the ocean,” the cadet suggested. “Catch them before they reach land.”
Professor Melamora tilted her head. “And how long do you think Riders can stay aloft before exhaustion? Patrols aren’t infinite. Good start, but think broader.”
“Line the coast with wards—something that flares when ships cross the boundary. We can’t guard every stretch of ocean, but at least we’d know the moment they arrive,” an Infantry cadet said.
A faint smile spread across Melamora’s lips. “Better. Awareness before impact.”
“Don’t wait for them to hit the shore. Meet them halfway. Send Riders to intercept before their arrows ever reach us,” Jeremy said.
Murmurs rippled through the rows. The idea was aggressive—dangerous—but it made sense.
“That’s risky,” Fogg admitted. “But perhaps necessary.”
I felt my hand rising before I stopped to think. “Ships that sail across an ocean don’t sail on air. They need food, water, and supply lines. If we cut those, they’ll never make it here.”
“You’re beautifully brilliant,”Zane said down our bond.
Pascal’s gaze pinned me in place. He let the silence drag before answering, “Now that is strategy. Target what keeps them alive, not just the weapons they carry.”
“How? How do you cut supply lines across an entire sea?” A Historian cadet asked.
Melamora’s eyes flicked across the room, sharp as a blade. “That,” she said, “is the question your generation will need to solve.”
The air grew heavy again, tension sparking between cadets like storm light. The war wasn’t theory anymore. It was on their doorstep—and none of us were ready. We continued debating strategy, shooting down ideas, elaborating on others.
***
The obstacle course was positioned at the edge of the flight field, near the mountain that stretched into the upper flight area, which led into the fliers’ den. Up there, three dens belonged to the different species of fliers. Only fliers were permitted beyond that point. There were two entrances to the upper flight field. Stone stairs leading to the top, or the obstacle. Both options appeared unappealing.
“Feather Wing, Electric Platoon, first squad, this is the flier’s Rite of Passage. This course is designed to prepare you to ride a flier without dying. You must pass this to move on to bond within a flier. You will practice this in your squad but complete it individually. Since there are twelve squads in total, each squad will get two hours twice a week to work on their skills. You have eight weeks to master this. For the first four weeks, there will be a barrier shield to catch you if you fall. After that, though, you’re on your own. Cadets do die practicing. It is an unfortunate thing,” Professor Quillet told us.
The seven of us stood at the base of the mountain, gazing at all six levels of the course. I was pretty certain our mouths hung open in awe. The mountain featured a perfect twenty-foot-wide section carved out of its face, extending straight up to the fifty-foot-tall summit. At the bottom right, stones rose about five feet high, followed by a sturdy wooden plank spanning across. After crossing the plank, ropes hung from another inclined plank, spaced roughly four feet apart. Once we navigated that, we encountered another slanting plank attached to the right side, also ascending. At the top, a small landing pad sat across a three-foot gap between the final platform and us.
