“All training is HALTED until further notice!”
His words echoed as silence finally fell, the tension hovering like a blade that hadn’t yet dropped.
Then—
Teren approached.
His uniform was streaked with travel and dust, his expression unreadable as he broke through the crowd and made a direct line toward me.
Whatever came next…
It wouldn’t be rest.
And it wouldn’t be peace.
Chapter
Thirty-Five
The major’s order echoed through the grounds like thunder, but it didn’t erase the tension, it onlymutedit.
Slowly, reluctantly, the squads began to disperse, blades sheathed, eyes still burning with unspoken fury. Stormforge retreated to the northern edge, Iron Fang peeled away toward the cliffs, but no one had truly backed down. The air still vibrated with held grudges and unfinished fights.
Warborn and Crownwatch lingered longest, casting wary glances at both sides. Peace had beendeclared—notearned.
Remy had vanished sometime during the standoff, but now he emerged from the castle’s west entrance, a rolled banner held under one arm. His expression was unreadable as he crossed the grounds, striding toward the section where Thrall Squad always formed up.
He knelt at the center, driving the banner pole into the earth.
The silk unfolded slowly in the breeze.
A deep purple dragon, inked in sweeping detail, unfurled across the banner’s surface—Kaelith, unmistakable in form and posture, her wings flared, her eyes fierce.
My heart clenched the moment I saw it.
The others murmured, some stepping forward with awe, others exchanging glances of quiet pride. But I didn’t move.
I just stared.
Then I asked the only question I could form.
“Why did you chooseher?”
Remy didn’t look surprised. “She is the most powerful dragon in Thrall Squad,” he said simply. “And she’s quite… unique.”
His eyes met mine. “As are you.”
I turned away—before he could say more, before I had to feel the weight of that compliment settle in a place already cracked.
I walked toward the barracks, the edge of Kaelith’s banner flapping behind me like it belonged to someone else.
I was halfway across the field when Teren intercepted me, his expression guarded but urgent.
“Message for you,” he said quietly. “From a guard.”
He handed me a folded parchment, wax seal broken.
No mark. No name.
