The wind shifted. They all turned as the first shadow fell across the field. Razorth came in fast and steep. He descended with the gravity of a falling mountain, his breath trailing faint mist in the morning chill. His wings flared wide, catching the air with a thunderouscrackthat scattered birds from the cliffside and shook dust loose from the fieldstones. He landed in a controlled slide, claws carving shallow trenches in the turf, tail lashing once before curling to his side. When he settled, silence returned, but the pressure of his presence remained. Razorth folded his wings with military precision, then tilted his massive, horned head toward the pair on the rise.
Commander Dareth gave a subtle nod. “Right on time.”
A minute later, the wind changed again, this time cooler. Nyxariel swept in with a grace that was almost ghostlike. She circled once, slow and deliberate, then descended. Her claws touched the ground, and runes shimmered faintly along her flanks and the trailing edges of her wings.
Thaelyn’s lips curved upward. “Show-off.”
Thorne tilted his head. “You’re jealous she lands prettier than you.”
“I land with power and grace,” she shot back, squinting up at him. “You wouldn’t understand.”
Before he could retort, a roar shattered the sky.
Vornokh tore through the clouds, his wings stretched wide like the cloak of night. His body was entirely black, but where light caught beneath his scales, flickers of red glowed like coals stirred by breath. Only when his rage flared did the red burn brighter, a warning written in flesh. Now, his mood was impossible to read.
He landed with a beat of his massive wings kicking up wind so fierce it bent the grasses sideways. His claws struck with weight, cracking the earth beneath him, and he reared slightly before settling, wings half-furled in dominance.
Thaelyn blinked against the dust. “He really needs an entrance, doesn’t he?”
“He doesn’t need it,” Thorne said, his eyes narrowing. “Heisthe entrance.”
Razorth snorted from across the field.
Commander Dareth stepped forward. “Mount up.”
Thaelyn moved instantly. She jogged across the field to Nyxariel, who lowered her foreleg in a familiar sweep. Without pause, Thaelyn grabbed a plate near the knee joint and began climbing up the muscled limb, past the wing joint, boots catching against shallow holds shaped by time and wear. She swung herself into the saddle with practiced fluidity, landing with her legs braced on either side and her hands already sliding into the reins.
From across the field, Thorne watched with raised brows. “Do you always climb her like that?”
“She’s tall for a lady. I don’t like being clumsy in front of the others,” Thaelyn replied, tightening her straps. “Also, it's fun.”
“You’re one twisted fall from shattering your spine.”
“She’d catch me.”
Nyxariel rumbled and was amused.“He underestimates our trust,”she said through the bond.
Commander Dareth mounted Razorth with a powerful grace, vaulting up the black dragon’s foreleg and settling in with the ease of decades. He adjusted a metal tube fastened at his belt, a speaking horn tied to the dragon’s flight band.
“Today’s not for formation drills. You’ve mastered those in our previous lessons,” he called. “Today is instinct. Reflex. You’ll learn to feel what the dragon does, not just react to it. This will get you ready for flying and patrol missions. Aerisya is a very skilled rider, and she will help facilitate situations.”
Vornokh snarled, then launched upward in a gust of flame-edged wind. Nyxariel followed, her wings unfurling in a shimmer of silver-blue as she rose smoothly after him. Razorth moved last. They rose upward as one, slicing through the morning haze, leaving ripples of magic in their wake. The sky above them grew pale and cold, the air thinning.
Commander Dareth’s voice rang through the air. “Form a triangle, with Razorth at the point.”
Nyxariel slowed, sliding slightly left. Vornokh grumbled but matched speed to fall into position. Their shadows tangled on the fields below as the dragons climbed higher.
“Thaelyn,” Commander Dareth said, his voice crackling slightly with altitude, “You’ll learn control through sensation. Don’t steer her,feelher.”
“I am.”
“Then prove it. Dive.”
Thaelyn blinked. “Now?”
“Now.”
Before fear could root her, she leaned forward. Nyxariel folded her wings inward, and the world dropped. They plummeted like a thrown spear, the wind screaming past, cold biting into exposed skin. Thaelyn narrowed her eyes against the rush, her hands loose, her breath steady.
