The words hit with a heavy weight. Another attack. Another bloodied post. My stomach tightened.
I glanced toward Zander, who gave me a subtle, unreadable look.
Kaelith…
Her presence stirred sluggishly in the back of my mind.
Are you able to fly?I asked gently.
Her answer came in a snort and a brush of heat across the bond.
I am not an invalid,she said, dry and biting.
I know that,I soothed.But I don’t want you to endure the strain of a long flight if it’s going to make things worse. I’m just trying to protect you.
She huffed in response, the mental equivalent of an eye-roll wrapped in indignation.
You do not protect the storm, little rider. You ride it.
And then—above us—wings.
Kaelith circled once over the Ascension Grounds, a ripple of violet trailing behind her like starlight.
Hein was with her, the flash of silver a calm presence just to her right. The two of them moved in perfect tandem, their bond a silent song of power and patience.
With a final sweep, they dove low and landed in the center ring. The earth trembled under Kaelith’s weight, her claws clicking against the stone like she meant to leave a mark.
Moments later, the other dragons of our squad descended from the skies—Temil, Kass, Koddos, Narvea, Kieren—one by one, forming a familiar circle of fire and fang.
Kaelith’s wings folded back, her amethyst eyes locking onto mine.
Get on,she said, unceremoniously.
I smiled despite myself.
She was back. And she wasn’t about to let me forget who I belonged to.
The saddle straps were tight beneath my fingers, the leather worn and warm beneath my palms as I buckled the last cinch along Kaelith’s flank. Around me, the others were doing the same. Checking harnesses, securing packs, and exchanging wordless glances before swinging up onto their dragon’s back.
We mounted as one, a unit shaped by fire and fracture. Our dragons spread their wings, massive shadows stretching across the Ascension Grounds. The Lowborn Squad we’d absorbed moved in rhythm with us, no longer separate. No longer second-tier. Just ours.
Kaelith rumbled beneath me, wings snapping once before she launched into the air, the wind tearing past us as we rose. One by one, our squad followed Koddos’ wings like thunderclaps. Narvea’s sleek and fast, Kieren’s veering with a dancer’s grace, and Temil, crackling with energy that made the air itself hum.
Above the others, Hein and Kaelith flew in quiet formation, the unspoken strength between them keeping our line steady.
Hours passed in a blur of wind and cold and sky.
Then we saw it.
Smoke.
Thin tendrils at first—gray fingers curling upward into a pale sky, but as we drew closer, the scent of ash thickened in the air. It wasn’t just a campfire or a field blaze. This was deeper. Blacker. Twisted.
The outpost was a scar in the earth, its perimeter torn apart, defensive walls burned and sagging. What remained of the gate hung on twisted metal. Charred wooden beams jutted like broken bones. The tents were mostly cinders, the ground scorched in strange spirals. A few bodies had already been covered in rough tarps near the gate, though blood still stained the dirt.
Kaelith circled once above the wreckage, her wings level despite the shifting wind.
We land here,I told her.Outside the main gate. Watch the skies. Watch our backs.
