She swallowed and spoke, her words thin but steady. “Then listen to me. We wait, but are ready. Not one, not the other. Both.”
Nyxariel’s wings cut the air clean. She felt another change.The Rift stirs,the dragon murmured through the bond, her tone sharp with unease.Something old has awakened beneath the stone.
They pressed forward. The air grew heavier the farther they flew, pressing against skin, armor, and magic. Like flying through memory itself. Or grief.
At last, the familiar peaks of Asgar came into view, distant spires of the Asgar Training Academy rising through the clouds, dragon banners fluttering in the wind. The academy looked different in this light, more ancient, almost foreign, like a keep pulled from myth.
Their descent was swift and coordinated. Commander Dareth led them in with a circling pass above the flight field, banners whipping against the stone walls, guards stationed in formation. As the first dragon touched down, Vornokh, black wings folding in behind him, the others followed.
Thaelyn dismounted, boots hitting the stone hard. The air on the ground was warmer, but the tension had not lifted. As her companions landed one by one, the same quiet hung over them all. No cheers. No calls. No laughter.
Commander Dareth stepped forward, his cloak billowing around him. “You’ve done well,” he said, voice loud enough to carry but still edged in steel. “But this is only the beginning. The King has advanced the Kaelthir ceremony. It will happen in two days. There will be training. Preparation. Everyone must be ready. The skies are no longer a place for observation. You will patrol. You will defend.”
He looked at each of them in turn.
“There are reports of movements along the western and eastern borders. Villages reporting stolen livestock, dark creatures in the woods. It reeks of necromancy.”
Silence.
“Rest tonight,” Commander Dareth finished. “But be ready for tomorrow.”
Thaelyn felt the weight of the words settle in her chest like stone. As she moved toward Nyxariel’s side, unbuckling the saddlebags, she felt Thorne’s presence behind her.
“They’re watching us,” he murmured, low. “The shadows aren’t just gathering. They’re shifting. Planning.”
She turned to him, her voice quiet. “Then we stay close. I’ll see you tomorrow bright and early. ” She gave him a soft kiss and headed toward the dorms.
The clouds churned, too still. Too silent. Not yet storm. But close.
Chapter
Thirty-Six
The skies over Asgar had not cleared. Clouds hung low like a burdened veil, silver-edged and unmoving. The Scorchfield stretched vast beneath them, ringed by jagged watchtowers and ancient dragon perches blackened by time. The training ground churned with motion, boots crunching on frost-bitten gravel and voices taut with tension. The wind did not howl, yet it moved with intent, weaving through cloaks and helms, carrying secrets no one wished to hear.
Commander Dareth stood alone at the edge of the high field, his silhouette carved in stone against the grey. The black leather of his battle uniform caught the breeze like the wing of something vast and silent. He didn’t speak until every cadet stood still, from the raw-faced first years to the blood-tested seconds.
“All squads. Assemble.”
“We’ve returned from the capital. You’ve heard whispers, some true, some not. Here is what matters. Our skies are no longer safe. The King has confirmed uprisings in the southern, eastern, and western provinces, dark magic forces gathering in Draekmire, and there has been movement near the Rift Lands.”
A few cadets murmured. The Commander cut them off with a glance.
“In one day, those of you with dragons will be sent out on missions. Those without will prepare. The skies are no longer ours.But they will be. That’s why the King has moved the Kaelthir forward.”
The sky above the Asgar Training Academy pulsed with wind and sunfire, banners snapping along the stone towers like living tongues of flame. The wide dragon field had been cleared and sanctified for the Kaelthir; rows of white banners edged in crimson rippled along the outer edge, where faculty and upperclassmen stood in formal flight leathers. The first-year cadets stood in tight formations, grouped by squad, breath shallow in their chests.
The Kaelthir Reckoning had always been at the end of a first year’s training. The cadets were nervous and concerned that they had not had enough time to prepare. There were whispers of concern with the King’s timing since it was up to the dragons as to when they were ready to bond and if they deemed the rider was ready.
War pressed closer. The air crackled with more than excitement. There was tension. A storm yet to break.
Thaelyn stood with her squad, Feyra, Iri, Rhys, Orion, and Vaeryn, shoulders squared, boots planted on the warm stone. Across the field, a dozen unbonded dragons circled in the sky, their massive wings cutting dark curves through the late-morning light.
Then the bell tolled. Once. Twice. Three times. The Kaelthir had begun.
From the clouds, a blaze of red light descended, sweeping low and slow. The first dragon, Kaeryx, a male with flame-scaled wings, came with a shriek of sound that cracked like fire in a storm. His body shimmered with molten hues, crimson, gold, and ember-black, and his horns curled back like bladed tusks. He spiraled once before diving toward the cadets.
Thaelyn’s heart leapt as Kaeryx slammed into the earth just feet before Squad Four. His molten eyes blinked once. Then he stepped forward, exhaling a curl of smoke as he turned his head and pressed his snout to Renan’s chest. The boy nearly collapsed with the force of it. Light shimmered along his arms as Kaeryx claimed him. The crowd erupted in a roar.
