Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Hein touched down on the Ascension Grounds with a soft thud that stirred the grass and scattered dust across the obsidian path.
For a heartbeat, he didn’t move—just looked at us as we dismounted.
Then, without a sound, he launched back into the sky, his wings splitting the air like thunder.
A signal, maybe. Either way, he left us in the hush of dusk.
We stepped to the side, out of the wind kicked up from his departure. My boots crunched lightly over the gravel as Zander fell into step beside me, his brows drawn tight as he glanced back toward the isle.
“She’s a Shiftling,” I said, not as a question but the simple truth of it. “It changes everything, doesn’t it?”
He didn’t answer right away. His hand flexed once at his side before he spoke. “I’m not sure what the guild will do with that kind of information.”
My gaze snapped to him. “Why? They already know she’s different.”
“Different,” he murmured, “isn’t the same as dangerous.” He met my eyes. “She’s far more powerful than anyone realized, Ashe. A dragon that can shift subtypes? Blend traits? If they see her as a threat instead of a miracle—”
“They’ll try to control her,” I finished, heart sinking. “Or me.”
Zander nodded slowly. “There’s not much known about the first dragon to bond,” he added, his voice subdued. “The legends say he left the kingdom after his rider died. Just… vanished.”
I glanced toward the skies as Hein flew back toward Dragon Isle.
“Some say he was heartbroken,” Zander said quietly. “Others claim he left because he regretted his decision to align with us.”
The thought hollowed out my chest.
“I hate keeping this from the squad,” I admitted, guilt gnawing like frost under my skin. “But I get it. We don’t even know how far this will go, and if Kaelith isn’t even done evolving…”
“It’s for the best,” he agreed. “For now.”
I blew out a breath. “So we keep her secret.”
“But not everything.” His hand brushed mine, a soft, tentative thing. “We don’t have to keep our plans to find the sanctuary from them. We need them.”
I nodded once, shoulders squaring as I turned toward the barracks beyond the training fields.
“Then let’s go talk to our squad.” We walked toward the door, passing several guild members on the way.
The barracks were warm with the scent of steel oil and worn leather, laughter low and lazy as we stepped through the open arch. Boots scuffed against stone, and Kaelith’s distant breath echoed in the back of my mind like a half-forgotten song.
Inside, the squad was sprawled across their bunks and scattered floor mats like a family in quiet reprieve.
Jax and Ferrula sat side by side on Jax’s bed, sharpening their blades in unison, his strokes rhythmic, hers deliberate and fast, like she was daring the steel to talk back.
Naia and Tae were hunched over a small, flat board on the center table, a pile of polished dice between them. Tae’s expression was pure mischief, while Naia looked one heartbeat away from launching one of the dice at his pretty head.
Across the room, the Lowborn Squad clustered in a loose circle playing a card game I didn’t recognize—Kaila was winning, judging by the stack of ivory chips near her elbow and the very smug tilt to her smile.
Riven and Cordelle were tucked into opposite bunks, legs stretched out, similar books open in their laps. Cordelle had a stick of dried fruit between his teeth. Riven didn’t look up until I spoke.
“Hey, gang,” I called softly as Zander and I crossed the threshold.
Riven sat up immediately, brows lifting. “What’s up?”
Zander’s posture beside me tightened just a hair, like he already knew this would change everything.
“We need to find the Fae Sanctuary,” I said. “Soon.”
Everything stopped.
Blades paused mid-stroke. Dice froze in Naia’s palm. Cards hit the ground with a whisper. The air felt heavier, coiled and ready.
“You want to infiltrate Blood Isle?” Cordelle asked gently, setting his book aside.
“We spoke to the fae prisoner,” I said, stepping into the center of the room. “He said Zander and I are key to finding it. But we can’t get there without help.”
“Whose help?” Riven asked, though the narrowing of her eyes said she already had a guess.
I hesitated. “Remy.”
Ferrula groaned, dragging her blade down with a long scrape of irritation. “Great.”
Zander’s smirk was dry and amused. “I couldn’t agree more.”
Ferrula tossed him a look. “You want him around for his sparkling personality?”
“No,” Zander said, folding his arms. “For his talent.”
“The one for lying?” Ferrula muttered, and Jax grunted a laugh.
“Among other things,” I said. “He can Phantom Step. And he has certain contacts that are useful.”
“I’ll bring him up to speed,” Zander added, scanning the room.
Tae dropped his dice and stood, stretching. “When do we go?”
“We need to prepare first,” I answered. “Soon. We’ll need to move as a unit, and fast. No one else can know.”
Everyone nodded, serious now, the weight of it settling across the room like mist before the storm.
But just as I stepped forward to continue, a sudden hollow ache pulsed through my chest. My magic rippled, then weakened—as if something inside me had faltered. Or pulled away.
Kaelith? I reached for her.
Nothing. Not absence. Not rejection. Just distance.
Too much, her voice barely whispered.
And I understood.
She was fading into sleep again… and this time, it felt like she might stay there a while.
We moved to our one private room. Though most of us had to stand.
The squad circled around the old dining table like it was a war council, their voices guttural but edged with urgency.
Maps were spread out between them—some inked in fresh script, others faded and brittle with age.
Riven traced a path with her finger across a western ridge, Cordelle argued for a northern crossing.
Tae made a joke about needing more wine if we were about to go spelunking into ancient fae ruins.
Even Ferrula leaned in, her usual scowl sharpened with interest.
I should’ve been there with them, planning, piecing together the next step in a mission that might very well change the tide of this war.
But my mind was elsewhere.
Kaelith.
Her magic still lingered in me like the ghost of firelight, warm but fading, threads of our bond unwinding so slowly I could barely feel the unraveling.
Kaelith?
No answer. Not even a whisper this time.
I pressed my fingers to the edge of the table, heart stuttering. She was just tired. Just recovering.
But what if she wasn’t?
My pulse jumped—and that was when I felt it.
A familiar presence brushed against my thoughts, featherlight and as cold as moonlight on steel.
Siergen.
His voice slipped into my mind without sound. She’s fading deeper than you think.
My body tensed, my gaze flicking up, but he wasn’t in the room. Only in my head. Only for me.
What’s happening to her? I asked, barely breathing.
Kaelith’s evolution is far from over, he said, his tone grave. But there is a risk. One most don’t speak of.
What risk?
A Shiftling’s bond to its rider is different from all others.
Their transformation may strengthen the bond beyond anything the guild has seen…
or drain it completely. Permanently. There was a pause, and then his warning coiled tight around my heart.
Be wary, Ashe. You may become the anchor that steadies her, or the weight that breaks her.
I felt the air leave my lungs.
Cordelle said something about ancient sigils protecting the sanctuary, but it sounded distant, muffled like I was underwater. My eyes found the horizon beyond the narrow window, past the barracks, past the fields, to the sky Kaelith used to own so easily.
And for the first time since we’d bonded, I felt powerless to help her.
Please be all right, I whispered into the quiet of my mind, not daring to speak it aloud.
No answer came.
The bond between us was still there, thin and stretched, like a golden thread dipped in shadow, but it pulsed too weakly for comfort. My chest ached with it, like part of me was suspended in a breath I couldn’t finish.
The meeting wrapped leisurely, each of us contributing what we could.
Cordelle would begin mapping a possible route using ancient fae symbols he’d found in the vault book.
Ferrula and Jax volunteered to gather supplies under the guise of a training drill.
Tae offered to discreetly speak to Stormforge, just in case things turned.
Riven made a list of who not to trust at court, which was almost everyone.
When it ended, the table was cluttered with empty cups, dulled maps, and too many what-ifs. The room thinned out, footsteps padding toward their bunks in a quiet shuffle of exhaustion.
Zander lingered by the door, watching me with that unreadable look he always wore when he was debating whether to ask me to stay.
I felt it, the silent tug, the unspoken hope threading through his bond.
But I didn’t move.
“I’m tired,” I murmured, offering a small smile that didn’t quite reach my eyes. “I just… want my own bed tonight.”
He nodded once, jaw tight. “Of course.”
He left without another word, his boots echoing down the stone hall until the silence returned like a second skin.
One by one, the barracks dimmed. Naia’s breathing slowed across from me. Cordelle rolled over and mumbled something about mushrooms in his sleep. Even Riven, ever the insomniac, set her book aside and pulled the blanket up to her chin.
I curled beneath my own covers, the heaviness of the day settling into my bones.
Kaelith…
Still, nothing.
I blinked at the ceiling, my magic restless beneath my skin. I was halfway to sleep when the warmth hit me like a breeze after a long drought, soft and sure, wrapping around my ribs and unfurling in my chest.
Little storm, Kaelith said gently, my silence is not your fault.
Tears stung, sharp and sudden. Then why—?