The last month of school had crept in like a silent predator, and Mia could smell the tension in the air—pencils tapping nervously, pages rustling in panicked cramming sessions, and the unmistakable scent of sweaty ambition. The end-of-year exams loomed over the entire elementary school like a thundercloud. And this year, it wasn't just about good grades. There was a trophy.
Apparently, Windmere Elementary had a long-standing tradition that Mia had somehow missed during her whirlwind onboarding. Each year, the class with the highest average score across all subjects received a sparkling gold-and-emerald trophy dubbed the "Scholarly Flame." It was more glitter glue than gemstone, but the students were obsessed with it. And better still—or worse, depending on one's anxiety levels—the teacher of the winning class also received a gold bonus and a week off from administrative duties next term.
The announcement came during the Monday staff meeting, delivered by Principal Dorey, who smiled way too innocently when she said, "Oh, and let's not forget! The Scholarly Flame is up for grabs! Last year, Mr. Ulric's class won by just a half-point. Let's see who takes the crown this year!"
The moment Mia stepped into her classroom afterward, her students surrounded her like hawks on a mouse. "MISS GREAVES! We have to win!" shrieked little Junie, who Mia had literally caught reading math books upside down two months ago."I heard the winning class gets pizza! With cheese!" added Carver, who would probably try to tame a carnivorous mushroom if it came with pizza sauce."Not pizza," Mia said with a smile, raising her hands. "But if everyone studies hard, gives it their all, and doesn't burn the building down in the process, I'll host a barbecue luncheon for us. Grilled beast patties. Maybe even Nut's famous energy berry juice.""You're bribing us," said Ria suspiciously."Absolutely," Mia said cheerfully. "With food. That's how all real-world motivation works.""Do we have to be first?" Junie asked quietly, twisting her pencil."Nope," Mia replied. "Just try your best. That's all I want from you. Honest effort. We win, great. We don't, we still celebrate."
Over the next two weeks, Mia transformed her classroom into a mini training camp—not for beasts, but for brains. She designed flashcard races, spelling duels, and math problem obstacle courses. She even created a game called "Tamer Trials," where students had to answer questions while roleplaying their beasts. "If your fire-lizard has three fireballs and needs two to beat a frost badger, how many does it have left?" became a class favorite.
Professor Hootsworth helped by leading surprise quizzes in a dramatic Shakespearean accent, turning ordinary multiplication into theater. "Two times six is twelve, as twelve is the number of moons Jupiter bore! Fie upon those who forget their tables!"Nut, meanwhile, handed out berry snacks and offered flexing encouragement. "Your brains are growing! I can smell it! Like muscle… but inside your head!"While Mia juggled grading papers and planning the barbecue in her free time, her thoughts often drifted to the summer beyond. Her mind buzzed with flying techniques and wind-resistance theories. The moment exams were over, she'd be free to chase her own goal: her Class-C Beast Taxi License.
Finally, exam week arrived. Mia watched her students shuffle into their seats, clutching pencils like they were swords. There were nerves, yes, but also a weirdly excited energy in the room. And as they began scribbling answers, she realized just how far they'd come. Her class—the same bunch who once tried to trade crayon drawings of monsters as homework—were now calculating, writing, and analyzing like pros.
The last test paper was collected on a breezy Friday afternoon, and when the bell rang, Mia was hit by a moment of strange silence. No more quizzes to prep. No more spelling drills. Just… summer ahead. The students would be back on Monday for the results and the promised barbecue, but Mia had one weekend to breathe.
And that meant it was finally taxi time.
Early Saturday morning, Mia arrived at the Beast Transport Guild's skyyard, a sprawling space just outside Windmere. Huge platforms floated on magic sigils, connected by rope bridges and sparkling with glyphs that shimmered under the sun. Flying beasts of all shapes and sizes—sky serpents, hover hares, thunder pigeons—flitted around. Instructors with clipboards barked orders at hopeful riders strapped into harnesses. It was part airfield, part chaos, and Mia loved every second of it.
"I'm here for the Class-C license test," she told the receptionist, holding up her voucher. The woman glanced at her clipboard, nodded, and handed her a packet. "Beast inspection, then three parts to the test: liftoff and landing with cargo, controlled turns through obstacle clouds, and safe descent with simulated turbulence. Hope your beast's got strong wings and a stronger stomach.""Oh, he does," Mia said confidently.
When Hootsworth arrived in full glory—wings spread, eyes gleaming—the examiner blinked. "Is that… an evolved Highwind Scholar Owl?""He prefers 'Professor Hootsworth,'" Mia said. "And yes. He's very dramatic.""I can see that," the examiner said dryly, watching as Hootsworth dramatically bowed to a nearby floating squirrel beast.
The first part of the test went smoothly. Mia strapped a weighted dummy onto Hootsworth's back and executed a clean lift into the sky. His wingbeats were stable, and their landing was soft enough to impress a baby cloud turtle.
The second part, though, was chaos.
Obstacle clouds were enchanted puffs that moved erratically, some even puffing gusts of wind or emitting illusions to confuse the rider. Mia swerved left, ducked under one shaped like a dancing turnip, and nearly got clotheslined by a floating puffball that giggled when it missed her. Hootsworth complained the entire time. "This is a disgrace! I am a professor of aerial literature, not a circus act! Why does this one smell like burnt broccoli?!""Less talking, more dodging!" Mia shouted, gripping the reins as they banked hard to the right.
By some miracle, they made it through. The final portion was a descent through simulated storm winds—complete with enchantments that mimicked shaking, lightning flashes, and disorienting vertigo. The moment Mia gave the signal, Hootsworth dove.
She gritted her teeth as the wind whipped past them, flapping her coat violently. Visibility was nearly zero. Then a burst of magical wind nearly flipped them. Mia clung tight, using her legs and core strength just like they'd practiced. "Steady!" she yelled."I AM PERFECTLY STEADY," Hootsworth bellowed back. "The winds are the ones with emotional issues!" They landed roughly but safely. Mia stumbled a bit as she dismounted, her legs feeling like jelly.
"Pass," said the examiner, scribbling notes. "Bit dramatic, but you kept control. Welcome to the skies, Taxi Tamer Greaves."Mia almost cried. Instead, she pumped her fist and whooped like a teenager. Hootsworth fluffed his wings proudly. "Let us now charge outrageous fares and deliver passengers in poetic splendor.""Or just safely and on time," Mia said, grinning.
That evening, Mia returned home sore, sunburnt, and completely satisfied. She had her license. She had a beast who could fly her anywhere. And most importantly, she had something she hadn't had in a long time—momentum.
Monday would bring her students back, the results, and the long-awaited barbecue. But tonight, she let herself rest, curled up with Nut snoring in her lap and Hootsworth polishing his feathers by moonlight.
Summer was just beginning. And Mia Greaves? She was ready to fly.