She tried to sit up. Pain spiked through her side. “I didn’t know how it happened, I didn’t mean to?—”
“No one means to call a storm that splits the sky,” Velnari interrupted, her tone sharp. “But meaning and consequence are rarely aligned.”
Caelira’s glare cut through her. “Enough. She’s a new cadet, not a weapon.”
Velnari’s eyes softened, but only a fraction. “Then the realm is lucky the storm hasn’t decided otherwise.”
Vaelen approached, hands clasped behind his back. “I felt it from the archives. Aether. True and unbridled. I have not felt its pulse since Aeromir fell beneath the Veil.”
Thaelyn’s heart stumbled. “Aether?”
Vaelen tilted his head. “You touched it, girl. You wielded it. Or perhaps, it wielded you.”
Before she could answer, a low groan echoed from the adjacent chamber.
Caelira looked toward the curtain separating the beds. “He’s awake too.”
Thaelyn froze. Through the thin veil of fabric, she could make out a shadow, broad-shouldered, sitting upright, one hand pressed to his temple. Thorne.
For a heartbeat, Thaelyn swore she felt something pulsebetween them, not emotion, but sensation. Pain, echoing like the aftershock of lightning.
He stirred as if sensing it too. “She’s conscious,” he rasped.
Commander Dareth moved toward him. “You should be resting.”
Thorne’s jaw clenched. “Hard to rest when your veins are on fire.”
Vaelen turned to the Commander, voice calm but grave. “The bond is not only between rider and dragon anymore. Her manifestation resonated with Vornokh. The connection flared across both dragons. That alone should be impossible.”
Velnari’s expression darkened. “Yet here we stand in the aftermath of the impossible.”
Commander Dareth exhaled slowly, the weight of command heavy in his posture. “We’ll discuss it with the council.”
The chamber’s great doors sealed behind them, muting the wind outside. Thaelyn could not see what lay beyond the infirmary walls, but she could hear the distant rumble of dragons circling above the mountains, a warning woven into their flight.
The council gathered at the long table: Commander Dareth at the head, General Solas, Velnari, and Caelira to his right, Vaelen Solen at the far end, and, uninvited but ever-present, Prince Kaen.
He sat with the poise of a man accustomed to being obeyed, his crimson cloak spilling over one shoulder, his eyes dark as oil and twice as reflective.
Velnari spoke first. “Thaelyn Marren manifested Aether, Commander. The archives has explained and warned us what this means. The Aether cannot be contained with the same methods as other elemental powers.”
Vaelen nodded. “Nor should it be. The Aether chooses its vessel, and never without purpose.”
“Purpose?” Kaen said softly, leaning forward. “You mean danger.”
Vaelen’s gaze didn’t waver. “The two are often the same.”
Kaen’s fingers drummed lightly on the table. “This is a matter of royal security. A power capable of rupturing the academy’s defenses is a threat. Cadet Marren should be transferred to the crown’s custody, where she can beguided.”
Velnari’s lip curled. “Guided. You mean controlled.”
Kaen’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Words are malleable, Professor. The storm she summoned killed no one, this time. Next time, the casualty count may not be so kind.”
Commander Dareth’s chair scraped against the stone as he stood. “She’s not leaving my command.”
Kaen’s tone cooled. “You’re overstepping, Uncle.”
“I’m preventing a repeat of history.” Kieran’s voice rumbled like distant thunder. “The last time the crown sought to cage what it didn’t understand, Aeromir burned and disappeared.”
