The ivory gate

The crunch of gravel beneath their boots was unnaturally loud as they approached the Ivory Academy. Each step sent echoes through the quiet morning air, as if the path itself were announcing their arrival. Storm pressed closer to Adam's leg, his warm scales brushing against the boy's calf, a low rumble vibrating in the drake's chest. Adam reached down instinctively, fingers threading through the ridges along Storm's neck though he wasn't entirely sure who was comforting whom.  
Cassian walked a pace ahead, his usual steady stride carrying an undercurrent of tension. His hand rested near his sword hilt, not in readiness for battle but in the way of a man bracing for unfamiliar territory. "Keep Storm close," he muttered, barely loud enough to hear. "And expect straightforward answers. Academics like their words polished, but truth should still lie beneath."  
Adam nodded, though Cassian wasn't looking. His own pulse thrummed in his ears as the Academy loomed into view a sprawling fortress of pale stone and glass, utterly alien against the familiar forest backdrop. Sunlight bounced off countless windows, turning the structure into a shimmering monolith. Nothing like the rough-hewn cabins of the village or the shadowed quiet of home. This was a place of order, of knowledge.  
And tomorrow, it would be his.  
The wrought-iron gates stood open, intricate swirls of metalwork forming patterns that might have been vines or arcane symbols. Beyond them stretched a courtyard paved in smooth grey flagstones, worn uneven by generations of footsteps. Children in neat blue tunics moved in clusters, their voices a low hum of chatter.  
Adam felt every eye turn toward them. Whispers prickled his neck:  
"A drake!"
"Look is that really ?"  
"Why's it so small?"  
Storm's tail flicked, muscles coiling beneath Adam's touch. The boy forced himself to keep walking, focusing on Cassian's back rather than the stares. The new weight of his short sword, which had felt like a mark of pride that morning, now seemed to brand him as something other. 
Inside, the air was cool and carried scents of dust, old paper, and polish. Sunlight streamed through high windows onto polished marble floors, their footsteps echoing sharply in the cavernous hall.  
Adam's gaze caught on the paintings lining the walls stern-faced figures in robes, scenes of study, and more unsettlingly, dramatic battles. One in particular held his attention: a lone warrior facing a shadowy winged creature, blade raised in defiance. Despite its age, the colours remained vivid, as if the moment had been frozen in time rather than pigment. A shiver traced his spine.  
Storm chirped a soft warning.  
Cassian stopped before a heavy oak door marked Headmaster Thorne. He knocked twice.  
"Enter." The voice was smooth, calm.  
The office was large but unpretentious, lined with bookshelves groaning under leather-bound tomes. Sunlight streamed through tall windows onto a massive desk holding only a brass instrument and neat papers. Behind it sat a man with dark hair silvering at the temples, his sharp features softened by wire-rimmed spectacles that magnified keen eyes.  
"Cassian," he said, gesturing to the chairs. "Welcome. Your companion may stay close." His gaze lingered on Storm with open fascination. "Truly remarkable."  
Storm positioned himself between Adam and the desk, watchful.  
Headmaster Thorne tilted his head. Then, astonishingly, a perfect drake-chirp sounded from his throat.  
Adam felt Storm stiffen. The drake cocked his head, then responded with a deeper, questioning chirp.  
Thorne's polite smile warmed. "Ah! Excellent. I possess an affinity for beast communication. Quite useful." His gaze returned to Cassian. "You've come to register Adam?"  
Cassian nodded, some tension easing. "He needs more than I can teach. Basics, history, theory."  
Thorne studied Storm, who now seemed marginally less tense. "The bond vouches for him. Such connections speak louder than tests. Consider him enrolled." He took up a quill. "Practicalities – when to begin?"  
"The sooner the better. He learns quickly."  
Thorne scribbled a note. "Master Elara can integrate him immediately in Fundamentals. Tomorrow morning. He'll need basic supplies – the bursar will provide a list. Fees are modest for locals." He named a sum that made Cassian nod.  
Adam listened as reality settled over him. School. Tomorrow. Classrooms, books, children whispering about his drake. Daunting – yet Thorne's easy acceptance was a relief. This wasn't some grand destiny, just a new road.  
As they left, the paintings seemed less oppressive. Adam touched his sword hilt. Still a tool. School just another forge. Storm nudged his hand, and beneath the nerves, anticipation flickered.  
Tomorrow, lessons began.  
That evening, the scent of roasting herbs and fresh bread greeted them before Elowen's voice did. "In here!" she called from the kitchen.  
Adam helped set the table while Elowen stirred stew, flour dusting her arms. Cassian watched from the doorway before joining in.  
They ate in comfortable silence until Cassian cleared his throat. "I'll get his supplies after this."  
Elowen nodded, passing Adam more bread. "I've made a list. And perhaps some sweets for courage."  
Adam smiled despite himself.  
Later in his room, he packed carefully – spare tunic, whetstone, the carved wooden wolf Cassian had given him. He sat on his bed, Storm curling at his feet.  
Tomorrow changed everything.  
His mind buzzed with questions. Would the others stare at Storm? Would the teachers treat him differently? Would he be any good at this?  
He lay back still dressed, staring at the ceiling as Storm clambered up beside him, a warm weight. The drake's slow breaths filled the quiet. Adam scratched behind Storm's horns absently, earning a contented tail thump.  
Just a few more hours.
He closed his eyes to quiet his whirling thoughts – but the day's exhaustion pressed down all at once. The last thing he felt was Storm shifting closer, a rumbling purr vibrating through him as sleep pulled him under.  
Tomorrow would come.  
But for now, there was only this: the deep, dreamless dark, and his drake's steady heartbeat beside him.