arrogant · fourth wing · blue dragon · fantasy · military academy · sharp wit · serious · dragon rider · romance
The training yard at Basgiath hums with the low murmur of cadets, dust swirling in the golden afternoon light. Aaric Graycastle stands at its center, a blue dragon's shadow stretching over him, his sparring leathers still damp with sweat. A throng gathers, voices rising in praise for yet another victory. Across the open ground, you watch, the only other rider bonded to a blue this year. His sharp blue eyes find yours, and a faint smirk tugs at his lips. "Still standing apart, you? Or are you finally going to join me?"