565. Grown Up

565. Grown Up

Oriur woke up to the sounds of wood shattering and metal crashing.

He jerked up, raising his head to face the metal doorway. The room was dark, and the blinds were shut. His gaze drifted to the clock by his bedside. It was still early in the morning, so he refused to peek out the window.

The sun would be incredibly bright at this time— at least, from this elevation. So Oriur didn’t like to pull back the curtains to his room during the morning. Instead, he liked to lay here and relax. Except it wasn’t relaxing.

Not when he could hear the sounds of fighting right outside of his room.

Oriur sighed as he rolled over in bed. He heard the muffled roaring. The fighting continued, and he remained lying there as he tried to cover his ears with his hands. Clawed hands. Not the fleshy Human hands that could barely cut anything open with their tiny fingernails.

That was right— Oriur wasn’t a Human. He was a Wyvern. A young Wyvern who had a pair of rowdy siblings.

He got to his feet as the fighting continued, and he knew he wasn’t going to be falling asleep any time soon. He pushed the door open to see a pair of figures tumbling down the hallway, locked in combat. He stared at them.

Oriur took on his siblings as they snarled and clawed at each other.

Novis and Bellum. They were both Wyverns like him, but they were noticeably larger. Their hides had fully grown out, and Bellum even had a pair of nub-like protrusions poking out of her back. They were both about the size of an adult Human, while Oriur was still about two-thirds of their size.

He looked on as they continued to brawl, growling at each other the entire time.

“Give it back!”

“No— it’s mine!”

“I saw it first!”

“You just took it from me—”

Novis and Bellum argued as Oriur shook his head. The two of them were arguing over scraps of food. Raw meat— not even cooked or seasoned. They must have stolen it from the kitchen.

Oriur would’ve stopped them, but they were both far higher-leveled than he was. So he just stalked past them as he headed to the kitchen. Well— it wasn’t really a kitchen. It was a makeshift kitchen.

This wasn’t really a house. It was actually an office. Or rather— it had been an office. It was now repurposed as a… sanctuary. A place to house monsters.

Oriur came to a halt right by the dining table. He stared at a figure already seated at the head of the table. He stared at the swaying tail— he saw the green scales and the elongated face. She was a monster. Just like him. More specifically, she was a [Krokodis]

He simply nodded at her as she beamed back at him.

“Good morning, Oriur. Me eating breakfast. You want some?”

She raised a bowl of meat chunks at him, and he shook his head. Instead, he grabbed an apple and munched into it.

“No thank you, Ms Kron. I’ll have this instead.”

“Mm, more for me!”

Kron shrugged and continued chowing down on her food. Oriur sat awkwardly across from her as he nibbled on the red fruit. The two of them sat in silence as his siblings continued fighting in the background. He would occasionally cast an awkward glance at the [Krokodis] as a clock standing on the kitchen counter ticked with each passing second.

He really wasn’t sure what he could say to Kron. He had tried to hold a conversation with her plenty of times before, but they were always short and strange. Like there was a disconnect. Although— Oriur sometimes wondered if it was a problem exclusive to him. After all, Novis and Bellum didn’t seem to have any problems with speaking to her.

However, the [Krokodis] was mama’s friend. She was also uncle’s friend. And she was nice, even if odd. So Oriur didn’t take any issues with her. It was just hard for them to form a connection. That was all.

But that was true for everyone here. Oriur always felt out of place. That was why he longed to explore the rest of Mavos Academy— to visit the world below.

He closed his eyes, and he heard the fighting stop. A sharp voice interrupted both the snarling and growling of his siblings as he glanced back.

“That’s enough.”

Oriur stared at a tall, stern woman as she dragged both Novis and Bellum behind her. The two young Wyverns were scowling with their arms crossed, not looking at each other. But they didn’t struggle. Even as the woman plopped the two of them down onto the chairs next to Oriur.

“Both of you— apologize to each other. Now.”

The woman crossed her arms. She had the appearance of a middle-aged Human lady— maybe in her mid-thirties— and she adjusted a pair of glasses on her face. But despite her looks, she was certainly no Human.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

Oriur knew that it was just an illusion. As did his siblings. Which was why they acquiesced.

“Sorry…”

“Hrm, sorry…”

Novis and Bellum murmured at each other. The woman just nodded as she took a step back.

“Good. And there will be no more fighting over food. Is that understood?”

“Yes Ms Centina…”

Both the young Wyverns groaned at the same time. Oriur just stared at the veil of a Human woman. That was right— she wasn’t really a Human. She was a Centinel. And just like Kron, she was a friend of both mama and uncle.

Oriur turned to face Centina with a smile.

“Good morning, Ms Centina.”

She returned a warm smile as she took a seat next to Kron.

“Good morning to you too, Mr Oriur. I apologize for not stopping your siblings’ quarrel sooner, but I was busy with a task Headmaster Skyshredder had given to me.”

“Oh, it’s fine.”

Oriur glanced down the hallway, then back at Centina.

“But where’s Uncle?”

Normally, uncle would be the one to break up Novis and Bellum’s fights. But for whatever reason, he wasn’t here right now. Centina sighed and massaged her temples.