“We begin with what we do know,” he says. “We trust the dragons—their knowledge, their intentions. And we hope it’s enough.”
He steps toward me, resting a hand gently on my shoulder. Solid. Steady.
I nod. My pulse is calm—even as the world feels like it’s tilting beneath my feet. Because one thing hasn’t changed.
Calryx is calling me.
“I’m ready.”
Valen lets his hand fall from my shoulder. Then he turns—just slightly. Like he needs the moment. Like he can’t look at me and hold this truth at the same time.
When he faces me again, his expression is different. Hardened. Still. Composed not with peace—but resolve.
“No,” he says. “Youthinkyou’re ready. But if you leap unprepared, it won’t matter how strong you are. The bond isn’t just a connection, Amara. It’s a surrender. You don’t get to force it. You don’t get to control it.”
I lift my chin. My voice is quiet. But unwavering. “I don’t need to control it.”
Valen holds my gaze a moment longer. Then sighs. “We’ll see.”
Thane wasn’t surprised when we told him. Not like Valen—stunned into silence. Not like the others—wide-eyed, murmuring about prophecy and impossibilities.
He just nodded, like he had already known. Like he had been waiting for this moment.
When I asked him why, he only said, “Because I believe you were never meant to walk this path alone.”
I didn’t know what to say to that. But I felt it.
Deep in my bones, where Calryx’s call still burned.
They dismantled everything I thought I controlled—until nothing was left but instinct. Not in strength. Not in skill. But in control.
Because the leap wasn’t about power.
It was aboutfaith.
And faith was something I had never been taught to rely on.
I’d always trusted what I could hold in my hands—the earth beneath my feet, the burn in my muscles, the clean bite of a hoe slicing into soil.
But faith?
Faith was uncertain. Shapeless. Something I couldn’t mold with will alone.
And yet . . . wasn’t that what the past few months had been? Hadn’t I already stepped into the unknown, time and time again? Hadn’t I survived things that should have been impossible? Hadn’t I watched the world shift around me in ways no logic could explain?
Maybe faith wasn’t about surrendering to something unknown.
Maybe it was aboutacknowledging what had always been there.
Thane stands across from me, his stance relaxed but coiled, ready. I can’t see him but I can feel him. The blindfold over my eyes makes sure of that.
I lunge first.
Too slow the first time. Too fast the second. The third—Thane knocks me off balance, sweeping my legs out from under me. I hit the ground hard, the impact rattling through my bones.
“Again,” he said.
Always, again.
