“One night of dragon-roar snoring,” Kaia teased.
Ayda added, “Camus tried to throw a boot at you. It bounced off.”
“Itucked in,” Luthias defended, gesturing at his wide frame.
The teasing swirled between us like steam from our bowls, easy and warm.
It didn’t matter that our bunks were cramped, that we barely slept, or that war whispered at our borders.
For a brief moment, over crusty bread and soft laughter, it felt like family.
We scraped up the last of our breakfast, the warm quiet of the mess hall giving way to the bite of morning air as we made our way to the Ascension Grounds. The sun hadn’t risen far, casting long shadows across the training field, and our breath puffed visibly in the crisp chill.
We gathered beneath our purple banner, Kaelith’s likeness fierce and wind-whipped above us. There was a calm to the group now, even in our exhaustion. A low, steady hum ofconversation as we leaned on one another, catching up on dreamless sleep and last night’s snoring offenses.
But the moment Major Ledor approached the podium, the idle talk died out.
He stood tall, red cloak snapping behind him, his voice as icy as frost.
“Today,” he said, “all riders will face the Ashen Path.”
The name settled over the grounds like an omen.
A long strip of black coals had been arranged before the podium, layered thick across the dirt, the edges of it still dull and dark. But dragons were already circling above us.
The major’s dragon took a place behind his rider.
And then the fire began.
Streams of flame poured over the coals, turning the line of them into a glowing inferno—red, gold, orange, pulsing with heat. The Ashen Path came alive with embers.
“The trial is simple,” Ledor said. “Your dragon will prepare the fire. You will walk barefoot across it.”
Zander was called first.
He removed his boots without hesitation and approached the start of the path, Hein behind him like a wall of silver and strength. Without a word, he stepped forward.
He didn’t flinch.
Didn’t break stride.
He crossed the length of the burning coals like he was walking marble steps in the castle.
The riders whispered, but no one dared comment aloud.
Next came Perin.
He strode forward with too much pride, boots tossed aside, Coldrath before him. But as he stepped onto the coals, the arrogance faded fast.
His first step landed clean—but the second faltered.
By the third, he was screaming.
He stumbled across the path, blistered and howling, and collapsed at the end. Meri was already moving, her hands glowing as she knelt beside him.
The scent of burned flesh clung to the wind.
Teren went next—quick and agile. The coals burned, but he made it across with only a few curses and a slight limp.
