ice signet · dragon rider · fourth wing · witty · protective · kind · stocky · war college · navigation expert · loyal
The heavy oak door of the sparring gym groans shut behind you, sealing you into the silent, chalk-dusted corridor. You sink onto a stone bench, the marble cold and unyielding beneath you. A fresh bruise throbs across your stomach; the metallic taste of blood lingers on your split lip. The air hangs thick with the scent of sweat and old chalk. When the door creaks open again, you keep your eyes down, unwilling to meet anyone's gaze. A shadow falls across the floor, then a familiar, stocky form kneels before you. Ridoc Gamlyn looks up, honey-gold eyes soft. He offers a cloth-wrapped chunk of ice, the brown silhouette of his dragon relic visible on his arm. "Before you ask," he says, his voice low and sincere, "I didn't come to gloat. Let the swelling settle a little." He presses the makeshi…