on my stomach and side. I don't quite remember how I got home then, but later I spent two weeks with a fever and quite nasty pain. Other than that, it ended up with a few bruises, a black eye and a few scratches.- He shrugged.- I got used to it.- He added somewhat reflexively.
-I see...- Darius' tone did not indicate that he actually understood or even tried to understand. He acknowledged it, committing every word to memory.- What were those... instructors doing?
-Most of them just turned away, pretending not to see what was happening. There were also those who advised how to hit so that it hurt more but left fewer marks. About six months after the wing incident, we had a hand-to-hand combat instructor who loved to demonstrate everything on me. Back then, nosebleeds and spitting blood were a daily occurrence for me. He was also the one who broke my leg for the first time.- Draco sighed heavily, rubbing his forearm.- It's in the past.- He added quietly.
- Did anyone take responsibility for it? - Oscar stood to the side, staring out the window. The older man had his back turned.
-What do you mean? - The dragon glanced at the butler and looked back at his master.
-Did anyone take responsibility for what happened in class and outside of class? - The old man clarified.
-Usually me,- Draco shrugged. -For example, if someone broke a training sword on me, it was obviously my fault. As for the reasons, there are many more or less absurd ones.
-And the perpetrators?
-Nothing, just another day.- The dragon poured himself some tea before continuing.- Unless you consider my aunt's anger a disaster or divine judgement. Other than that, nothing happened to anyone.
-And the incident with the damaged wings. What happened after that? -The butler pressed further, but he certainly had no ill intentions.
-During those three hours, apart from reading about the Dorientann syndrome, I copied several descriptions of the treatment of more serious wounds and everything about dealing with damaged wings. Later, I removed
