Joseph checked his gear one more time as he prepared for his trip to the Academy of The Arcane Artes. His previous year had been nothing like the years before, and part of him was glad he had actually survived. Many of his classmates did not. It was to be expected. Even in well coordinated fireteams, with the best students and gear, it was not uncommon for a squad to be annihilated to the last man. A true trial by fire, as the Academy wanted the best to advance to the next year. No baby sitting, you learned on the job. And if you didn’t, well, you were dead.

Joseph had thought he was ready for combat long before, but training was completely different from the real thing. You fuck up once in training, you get yelled at and possibly disciplined. In the Black Gale, you make a mistake and you die. If you’re lucky, you just lose a limb or two. Many of his friends died during incursions into the Black Gale. Another day, more dead. Joseph tried to look on the bright side of things. Perhaps maybe a certain someone had died as well, who probably deserved it, but as such that person lived, which soured his mood further. 

But life moves on.

If he lived past his fourth year, Joseph would be just a mere step from becoming a fully fledged gatekeeper. A shrill cry outside interrupted his thoughts and signaled his ride was here. Stepping out of his humble abode, Joseph gave the griffon a friendly pat as he jumped onto it’s back. 

A while later, and he was at the Academy. As usual, the first years were crashing or making less than elegant landings. But it was to be expected.  Joseph’s first landing didn’t exactly go as planned either, as he had fell off and skidded a good five feet before something. But he learned from his mistakes- It was better to let the griffon decide to land than trying to rush it along. His griffon landed gently onto the academy and lowered itself to allow Joseph off. 

He was late, but he knew the routine already. Joseph would have to get to the main hall at once, which he did promptly. No need to waste time gawking at botched landings.