Since she was waiting for the dragon to grow old enough to be ridden and trained, Avery kept the fact that she existed hidden. Most people would think that those who find a hatchling would normally immediately go to be trained, but, in Avery’s case, she was a girl, and girls weren’t allowed to learn how to ride dragons. The thing was, Avery had a way of concealing her true gender nature from people, if she so chose, which was rare, so she could have decided to pose as a boy so she could actually learn to be a dragonrider. But, with the fact that she’d been maturing when she found the dragonet, it meant that she couldn’t fake being a boy, especially if they did the normal interrogation training and stripped her down to humiliate and demean her. Not that she really cared if anyone saw her naked or not, she’d just rather not be known as the weirdo Sky-Walker girl that wanted to learn how to ride a dragon in the dragonrider class of Coraz. Avery flashed down to the ground in a steep dive heading towards the scene. When she was only a few feet from the ground, she unfurled her wings and stayed in a steady hover as she materialized her sword. With a deep breath, Avery drove into her magic and searched for the War Magic that cried for blood. Yelling out loudly as she swung her blade, Avery slashed the air, sending a shockwave as sharp as a sharpened sword directly at the Alutian army. Some of them realized what was about to happen to their fellow soldiers, and dove for the ground as the rest around them were sliced in two. Those who survived stood and ran away from the army, fearing that Avery would make a second strike at them, just as the Corazian and Azzenian armies came upon the carnage. Majority were appalled at the sight of all of the lifeless bodies, and others were surprised that there was a Sky-Walker that had killed the Alutian majority of the army attacking them. Avery hovered there, trying hard not to lose her lunch out of disgust. A single tear rolled down her cheek in silent remorse for having taken so many lives. As Adrian, she had to look tough to the other men, but her feminine side wanted desperately to sit and weep over the loss of life. “Who are you?” someone finally asked, staring at Avery. She blinked, trying to register the question. “Adrian,” she replied with a deeper voice. “My name is Adrian,” she announced, holding up the combined standard flag. “I fight for both Azzen and Coraz, but belong to no one.” “A mercenary, then?” asked another man. “No. I fight for others who must defend the innocents. Until my home kingdom is repaired, I will fight with others,” Avery replied. “Let’s hear it for Adrian!” a trio of voices called, starting a wild chant that roared across the bloody battlefield. At the chant’s apex, Avery flew up higher into the air, then off towards the camp. She was headed back to the tent she had started from, so that she could quickly change back into the tunic, jerkin, and breeches that Rallian had given her only a week before, when they had come up with the plan. Almost immediately after she had landed, Avery’s stomach lurched, and she gagged. Rallian had a healer waiting at the tent in case something like that would happen. Quickly, the healer helped Avery stagger towards a bucket just inside the tent. Avery quickly ripped off the mask barely before she vomited into the bucket.
