Moments later, they were on the flight field, dragons already assembled. Vornokh’s shadow cut across the stone like a drawn blade. Nyxariel circled once, vast and gleaming in the light, before lowering herself beside the others.
Queen Elyria stood near the outer edge, cloaked in azure and silver. Her presence alone commanded stillness. She beckoned Thaelyn to come close.
"There is more you must remember before you rise," she said, her voice just above a whisper. "The bond you hold, Aether, is still awakening. If they strike again, it will not be with subtlety. You must feel through your dragon. Let her guide the pulse if your own magic stumbles."
Thaelyn’s throat tightened. "What if I’m not enough?"
Elyria’s hand touched her cheek, gently. "You already are. Your fear only hides your knowledge. When the time comes, you’ll remember who you were before the fall of Aeromir."
Behind her, Thorne watched the exchange, his own heart quiet.He knew what was coming. The storm that was brewing wasn’t in the sky; it was in them. In her. In the path they'd chosen to walk together. The storm would not wait much longer.
"Mount up," Elyria said, stepping back.
As one, the squad climbed into their saddles. Leather snapped, harnesses buckled, and the dragons launched into the sky, Nyxariel and Vornokh rising side by side, ancient wings cutting through the wind. Below them, the Queen remained still, her eyes on the growing storm ahead.
The candlelight in the Queen’s room at the Academy flickered low against the high arched windows, casting long shadows over the velvet-lined chamber. Despite the serenity of the hour, something restless moved beneath the stillness, like a storm waiting beyond the veil of the horizon.
Thorne stood near the window, his arms folded tightly across his chest, gaze fixed on the courtyard far below, where the torches lining the training yard sputtered against the wind. The Queen sat across the room on a cushioned divan, her silver-streaked hair unbound, eyes clear and unreadable as she watched him.
"You didn’t summon me just to talk about strategy," Thorne said without turning.
"No," Queen Elyria replied softly. "I summoned you because the time for shadows is coming. You, more than anyone, understand how to fight within them."
Thorne turned, his brow furrowed. "Kaen’s plotting something. We both know it. You saw it. Thaelyn felt it. And the council, for all their authority, will wait too long."
The Queen nodded, standing and crossing the floor to stand beside him. She placed a hand gently on his shoulder. "You must be prepared to act before they give permission."
His jaw tightened. "I’ll protect her. I don’t need permission."
"That fire in you, Thorne, it will either save her or burneverything around you." Her eyes flickered with deeper light now, ancient and knowing. "You were born of two bloodlines meant to war within you. Fire and shadow. Passion and restraint."
He swallowed. "And, do you see how that ends?"
"I see how it could," she said, voice soft as wind through crystal. "But I also see how it doesn’t have to. If you keep your mind clear, if you trust her strength alongside your own."
She turned, moving toward a wooden armoire etched with sigils. From inside, she drew a scroll wrapped in leather and tied with a seal that shimmered gold-blue. "This contains ancient maps. Forgotten paths between strongholds beyond our borders. One of them may be where Kaen’s allies hide, or where they plan to strike next."
Thorne accepted it, eyes scanning the unfamiliar markings. "This wasn’t drawn by any court cartographer."
"No. A Watcher drew it. One who saw beyond the Veil."
He tucked the scroll into his satchel. "Why me? Why not give this to Commander Dareth?"
The Queen paused. "Because he still believes there are lines that cannot be crossed. You and I both know, those lines are illusions." For a moment, silence stretched between them. Outside, a dragon's roar echoed against the distant peaks.
"She’s more than just the wielder of Aether," Thorne said quietly. "Isn’t she?"
The Queen smiled faintly, her eyes shadowed with memories. "She is the breath before the storm, the hand that may unmake or renew the world. She holds more power than this world has ever seen or known. She just hasn’t found it yet. And you, you are the one who must keep her heart from turning to ash. Aether responds to emotion."
Thorne nodded once, grim and sure. "Then I will. No matter what comes."
Queen Elyria reached forward and pressed a folded cloth into his hand, a swatch of silk with a single embroidered rune glowing faintly in the dark. "When the time comes, burn this. It will summon me, no matter where you are."
He stared down at it. "You think we’ll be separated again."
"I know the tide of war when I feel it gathering."
Thorne bowed his head slightly. "Then I’ll be ready."
