Chapter 15
Chapter
Fifteen
Zander squeezed my hand once more, then brought it to his lips, pressing a kiss to my knuckles. His eyes were heavier than before, shadowed and glassy.
“I have to lie down,” he said, his voice rough with fatigue. “If I don’t, I might fall asleep right here.”
I leaned up and kissed him softly. “Then go. You’ve earned it.”
He lingered for a second, like he didn’t want to leave, then nodded and turned toward the castle. I watched him disappear through the archway, the heavy doors closing behind him, and something in my chest tugged—tired, grateful, still afraid.
Kaelith’s mind slid into mine like silk drawn over steel.
We have company.
My spine straightened. I glanced around the grounds, eyes scanning the shadows of the Ascension Field. Who?
Not here, she said, her voice darker now. In the Hollows.
My heart stuttered in my chest. Who is it?
Representatives from the lost horde.
I stopped breathing for a beat, then looked toward the others. Jax sat against Kass’ flank, pale but upright, the rest of Thrall Squad circled around him. They were bruised, battered, utterly drained.
Maybe I should take Teren, I thought quickly, or a few from Lowborn Squad to back me up—
No, Kaelith said firmly. You must go alone. There will be a test. And you are the one who called them.
I didn’t mean to.
I am aware. But your call was heard. Their assistance could mean the difference between victory and destruction.
I swallowed hard. Why would they help us?
I have no idea, Kaelith admitted. They left long before I was even born. Until they answered your call, I didn’t know they still existed.
The wind shifted, carrying the faint scent of ash and wild herbs from the direction of the Hollows. It smelled like something old.
Then I guess it’s time I find out why they came.
Yes, Kaelith said. And why they chose to answer you.
I mounted Kaelith in silence, one hand still tingling from where Zander had held it.
The Ascension Grounds buzzed with motion, riders tending to wounded dragons, patching gear, exchanging exhausted commands.
No one noticed me slip away through the chaos.
No one looked up as Kaelith spread her wings and launched into the sky.
I leaned low against her neck, her scales warm and familiar beneath my palms. We cut through the air like a breath through smoke, rising above the fractured battlefield that sprawled below.
The wind stung my face, sharp and biting, and for a moment I let the sound of her wings drown out everything else.
The Hollows emerged beneath us, quiet, unscarred by battle, cloaked in mist and trees ancient enough to remember the first war. The clearing Kaelith glided toward was ringed in shadow and silence, untouched by the madness we’d just left behind.
They were already there.
Three dragons waited in the glade.
I didn’t need Kaelith to tell me they weren’t ours.
A Swordtail, slender and sharp, stood with wings tucked tight to her sides, her gray scales dulled like storm-worn stone.
A Clubtail, broader and hunched, his claws digging into the earth like he didn’t trust it.
And a Striker, lean and coiled with potential energy—but his scales were faded, matte silver-gray that bore none of the shimmer our dragons carried.
They were smaller than Kaelith, smaller than any dragon I’d seen in our ranks. And yet… they radiated something ancient. A quiet defiance that made the air heavier just by their presence.
Kaelith circled once, slowly, before descending.
She landed with barely a sound.
I stayed mounted, my breath shallow as I stared at the three dragons, all of whom now watched me with unblinking, impossible eyes.
Do not move, Kaelith warned, her voice cool but taut. They are not here to hurt you, but they are not here to comfort you either.
The Striker’s gaze narrowed.
And I realized this wasn’t a greeting.
It was a judgment.
The gray Striker stepped forward, his talons pressing into the mossy earth like he meant to stake his claim. Kaelith’s body tensed beneath me, a low rumble rising from her chest before her lips peeled back to bare her teeth, a warning laced with flame.
Then his voice slipped into my mind.
We have answered your summons.
The words were clear, crisp, but carried a lilting undertone, like wind through glass chimes. It startled me.
How can he speak to me? I asked Kaelith.
It appears you have the ability to open communication with all dragons, she answered.
No. Only those with shifting ability, he said.
You are Shiftlings.
The gray Striker turned his head slightly, eyes narrowing on me.
Not exactly, he said. His scales shimmered then, slowly the dull gray deepened into a muted violet, mirroring Kaelith’s color.
Kaelith’s head extended, her interest sharpening. You are Shiftlings.
Not like the ancients, he said. We cannot alter our shape or species. Only our color. It is a means of defense where we come from.
Can I ask your name? I said quietly.
I am Norven, he replied. Then he motioned with his tail toward the other two. The Swordtail is Olzar. The Clubtail, she is Alteth.
My gaze flicked to each in turn. The Swordtail gave me a curt nod, the Clubtail said nothing, but I felt her weighing me with every breath.
Welcome, I said.
Norven took another step forward. We have come to test you. To see if you are worthy of an exchange.
Exchange?
But before I could ask, Kaelith’s thoughts pressed into mine again.
They mean a pact. A trade.
The lost horde had not come to greet me.
They had come to judge me.
I kept my eyes on Norven as the light rippled off his scales, the violet shimmer retreating back to dull gray like the color made him uncomfortable, like beauty didn’t belong on his skin.
“What do you want?” I asked softly.
Norven’s tail flicked once before stilling. We observed the battle between your dragons and the black-winged traitors. The ones with the dark riders.
“The Blood Fae,” I said, my voice tight.
Yes, he confirmed. We will call the rest of the lost horde. If we are to help you in your plight… we ask for a pact. When our time comes, we will ask for your help in return.
I studied him closely. “What do you need help with?”
Norven’s silver eyes flashed. The lands we inhabit on the Lost Continent face a growing threat. One we may not survive alone in the future.
“What kind of threat?” I pressed, heart tightening.
That information will be disclosed only to our chosen champion, Norven said. And we will not know who that is until the time comes.
I went still, Kaelith silent beneath me, the other dragons watching with the intensity of creatures that saw more than they ever spoke.
Then I heard it—a soft flutter of wings like silk tearing in the wind.
Siergen landed beside us, the earth barely shifting under his weight. He stood taller than Norven, darker, his presence wrapping around us like armor.
His voice slipped into my mind. The hordes must be reunited, Ashlyn. Do whatever they ask.
I turned my gaze back to Norven, my pulse a steady beat against my tongue.
“Tell me what you want me to do.”
Norven’s gaze shifted to Siergen, studying him with something between curiosity and recognition.
I had assumed the violet one was the last of your line, he said.
Siergen stood unmoving, his wings tucked, his frame as unreadable as ever. Kaelith and I are the last.
Then you must both choose a mate, Norven replied, his tone reverent, as if the words themselves were sacred.
Siergen inclined his head slightly. Mine passed long ago. Kaelith has chosen. She will ensure our line continues when the time is right.
You can choose another, Norven insisted.
I have no mate in our horde, Siergen responded, his voice flat with finality.
Wait.
“You and Siergen are related?” I asked Kaelith, startled.
He is my clutchmate, she said simply.
My mouth opened slightly. What… but that would mean he’s a Shiftling too.
He is, she confirmed. He chose that form so he could best assist the dragons. I do not have the ability to alter my size.
He could be… big?
Yes. Now pay attention.
Norven’s gaze returned to me then, unblinking and as solid as stone.
As she is the caller, he said, his voice deeper now, she will endure the Trial of Truth.
My stomach dropped.
Because I had no idea what that meant.
But Kaelith must have because she had gone very still beneath me.
I took a slow breath, my fingers brushing Kaelith’s scales for strength, for grounding. Then I looked to Norven and nodded once.
“Proceed.”
The gray Striker inclined his head, and at his silent command, the mists curled back like retreating shadows, revealing a narrow path ahead. The trees along it were gnarled and blackened, their bark veined with glowing silver lines, like lightning frozen mid-strike.
Enter the path, Norven said.
I slid from Kaelith’s back, my boots hitting the ground with a muted thud. She didn’t stop me. She didn’t even speak.
Because she knew what this was.
The moment I stepped onto the path, the air changed—thicker, denser, humming with power so ancient it felt like breath drawn from the bones of the earth itself.
Light twisted around me.
And the first vision came.
A woman sprinting through a forest, branches clawing at her gown. She held something tightly against her chest—a baby. Her face turned as she ran, and my heart lurched.
She looked just like me.
Same long pale hair. Same full mouth. But her eyes were lavender.
And her ears—
Fae.
She was crying.
Tears streaked her cheeks as she whispered words I couldn’t hear and handed the infant—me—to a woman I didn’t recognize. A human. She kissed my forehead once before turning and vanishing into the trees.
“Wait!” I screamed. “Don’t go!”
But she ran. Without looking back.
The vision shattered.
I staggered.
The next image rose like smoke and slammed into me—
Siergen.
But not the Siergen I knew.
He was massive, glorious, his scales gold like the heart of a star. He reared back, letting out a howl that split the sky, his anguish vibrating through the air as he lifted his head and breathed fire into the heavens.
At his feet, a silver dragon lay still—its wings crumpled, its chest unmoving.
The pain in Siergen’s roar cut deeper than steel. I felt it in my bones, and I cried out, clutching my chest as if it would keep my heart from breaking.
Then the world burned away again.
A new vision formed.
Kaelith.
She stood proud and alone, her body coiled like a bowstring, wings tucked tightly. A fae woman approached, radiant and calm, white hair braided with silver threads. For a moment, I didn’t recognize her without the venom in her eyes.
Severeth.
But then—her hands moved.
Storm magic exploded around her.
Wind howled and lightning cracked. The force of it drove Kaelith back. For a second, I thought she’d fall, her limbs buckling under the storm’s ferocity.
But then fire erupted from the sky.
Siergen.
He crashed down like a wrathful god, golden and furious, and slammed Severeth with a wall of flame. She screamed, her form flickering, seared and broken as she fled into the mist. Most of her body was burned, scorched and ragged—but she escaped.
And in the silence that followed, Kaelith’s voice slithered into my mind like smoke sliding across glass.
I will never take a rider.
The vision snapped away, leaving only my ragged breath and the faint shimmer of magic in the mist.
Truths, buried deep.
Old wounds, older oaths.
And me, caught in the center of it all.
I stumbled from the mist, my legs unsteady, my lungs dragging in the thick air like it weighed more now—like truth had a gravity of its own. My clothes clung to me, damp with sweat, and my heart hadn’t quite returned to its rhythm. It beat slow, then fast, then slow again.
Kaelith waited, unmoving. Her violet eyes locked onto mine like they knew what I’d seen. Like she remembered.
Norven stepped forward, his expression unreadable. What truths will you share?
I wiped a tear from my cheek, the last one that had slipped down my face when I’d seen the silver dragon die. “My mother gave me away.”
Why? Norven asked.
“To protect me,” I said softly, the words foreign and painful on my tongue. “Likely from my grandfather. Veralin.”
Norven inclined his head. And your second truth?
My gaze drifted to Siergen, whose golden form still burned behind my eyes.
“He lost his mate in the Blood Fae War,” I whispered. “He was gold, and… she died.”
Siergen held my stare, his body as still as stone. He said nothing, but I could feel his silence, and his grief. He didn’t deny it.
Norven’s voice deepened. And the third?
I turned to Kaelith. She had not moved, but I felt the tension in her limbs, the wary breath she held.
“A Blood Fae,” I said, my voice hoarse. “Named Severeth. She attacked Kaelith—tried to bend her, control her. She resisted. But…”
I swallowed hard.
“She said she would never take a rider. She doesn’t want to be bound to me.”
The clearing went quiet.
The wind died.
Then the dragon Norven had identified as Alteth stepped forward. Her eyes locked on Siergen. You are the gold. The ones these humans call the Unifier.