Chapter 24
Chapter
Twenty-Four
Quinn’s boots struck the stone path with urgency, his dark robes trailing behind him as he exited his tower. I caught the tension in his shoulders before he even spoke.
“Ashe,” he called, his voice tighter than usual. “May we speak?”
“Of course, Quinn.” I stepped toward him, Zander shadowing me. “Is everything alright with the pool?”
He shook his head slowly, eyes shadowed with something far heavier than fatigue. “It’s gone darker,” he said grimly. “But that is likely because… two more warders were murdered.”
My stomach turned to ice. “Here?”
“One here,” he confirmed, “and another in Brosha.”
Zander’s jaw clenched. “How?”
Quinn glanced toward the castle, lowering his voice. “They were poisoned. No one suspected a thing until it was too late.” He reached into the folds of his cloak and pulled out a small object wrapped in cloth. “This was found on the body of the one here.”
I took the bundle from him and peeled the cloth back. A small, metal crest glinted in the morning light.
A red sickle slashed across a stark white field.
I felt the blood drain from my face. “The Crimson Sigil.”
Quinn gave a solemn nod. “It appears so.”
Zander let out a slow breath, his gaze locked on the emblem. “They’re moving faster than we anticipated.”
Before I could respond, a horn blared across the Ascension Grounds—low and long, a sound that shattered the stillness.
Every head turned toward the castle.
“Quinn you should go. Let us know if there are any further changes with the pool.” He rushed off as my attention remained on the castle.
Kaelith’s voice whispered in my mind, as sharp as a warning. This is about more than dead warders.
The castle doors banged open with a force that made several riders flinch. Major Ledor stormed out, Major Kaler only a step behind him, both of them mid-argument and too angry to care who heard.
“We should send out patrols,” Ledor snapped, his voice raw with frustration. “He’s gone mad.”
Major Kaler’s expression was carved from stone. “Emlem would’ve had us reinforce the outposts. This isn’t a war, it’s a slaughter.”
Zander stepped forward, his voice a taut thread of control. “What is going on?”
Both majors halted, and for a moment, neither spoke. Then, surprisingly, it was Major Kaler who addressed us.
“If there’s any way to get Dorian back here now,” he said, voice low and grave, “I suggest you do it.”
“Why?” Zander asked, frowning.
Kaler’s eyes were grim. “Because the outposts are going dark. One after another. They’re being systematically dismantled. Entire detachments are vanishing or found dead.”
I felt my stomach tighten.
“And Theron?” Zander pressed.
“He refuses to send aid,” Ledor cut in, voice bitter. “He says they were warned. That they should’ve prepared better. He’s ordered that they be left to defend themselves.”
Zander stepped closer, his tone turning sharp. “They’ll be slaughtered. Why not send the dragons? Let them scout from the air, confirm whether this is the work of the Blood Fae or the Crimson Sigil?”
“That,” Kaler said slowly, “is the question we’re both asking ourselves.”
I saw it in their faces, resentment, helplessness, fury. The line between loyalty and mutiny was fraying fast. And somewhere in the distance, a war was already being lost.
We will ride with Hein and the original members of Thrall Squad.
Kaelith’s voice was a steady command in my mind, and for once, I didn’t question it.
Major Ledor’s gaze snapped to Major Kaler, who arched a brow in silent understanding.
“It seems,” Ledor said tightly, “you have your orders.”
“They come from a higher power than Theron,” Kaler added. “The prince regent cannot override a dragon’s command.”
Damn right he couldn’t.
I swung onto Kaelith’s back without a second of hesitation.
One by one, the others followed—Zander mounting Hein with practiced ease, Cordelle scrambling atop Kass with a flash of green fire beneath his boots, Naia and Temil, Riven and her gleaming silver Lola, Tae flashing a grin as he swung onto Kieren, Jax with Koddos rumbling underfoot, and Ferrula steady and calm as ever with Narvea.
The Ascension Grounds erupted into shouts from the castle balconies as our dragons took to the sky in a synchronized launch, wings beating the air with thunderous power. We didn’t look back.
They’re yelling, Kaelith said dryly.
They’ll get over it, I replied, settling low into the curve of her neck as the wind howled past.
We soared in a staggered diamond formation, Hein and Kaelith leading, the others falling into place as if we’d trained for this moment our whole lives.
Below us, the terrain rushed past—rolling green hills shifting into cracked earth, charred remnants of forest left behind by too many raids.
The sky grew darker the farther we flew, as if even the clouds feared the border.
The Solmian Outpost came into view like a bruise on the landscape—scorched earth, shattered walls, and the broken bones of a defense that had once stood proud. No movement. No signal. No life.
My pulse kicked.
No survivors? I asked.
Kaelith’s silence was answer enough. And then—
Something’s coming, she whispered.
The smoke hit us like a wall.
It shimmered unnaturally across the sky, silvery gray, like mist laced with something foul. I coughed, eyes burning, but Kaelith pushed through with a fierce beat of her wings.
Behind us, most of Thrall Squad did the same. I saw Hein dip, Koddos veer slightly but recover, Lola cut through like a blade. But Narvea…
Narvea screamed.
It was a sound I had never heard from Ferrula’s dragon before—high-pitched and panicked, like something primal had ripped through her mind. She bucked hard midair, her wings snapping wide as her body arched violently to the left.
“Ferrula!” I shouted, craning around.
Ferrula was clinging to her dragon’s neck, legs locked, her voice lost in the wind as Narvea spun in a tight spiral.
The green Clubtail’s eyes were wild, pupils blown wide as she twisted again and again, desperate, like something had infiltrated her bond and was trying to break it from the inside out.
Koddos, intercept! Kaelith barked to Jax’s dragon.
Kass, bring us lower—Cordelle started, but Kaelith and I were already diving.
“Ferrula!” Jax shouted.
Hein twisted sharply with Zander clutching the ridge behind his horns, trying to flank Narvea and push her back into line. But the dragon thrashed again, tail whipping dangerously close to Hein’s side.
“She’s losing control—” I gasped.
Narvea lurched one final time, her wings folding as her body jolted like she’d been struck by lightning.
Ferrula lost her grip.
“No—!”
Kaelith surged beneath her, and I reached, my breath lodged in my throat as Ferrula plummeted.
Hold steady, Kaelith warned.
I reached with both arms as Ferrula’s body hurtled toward us, her eyes wide with shock, mouth open in a silent scream. Kaelith adjusted her flight angle at the last second—
And Ferrula slammed into me.
I grunted as the force knocked me back, but I wrapped my arms around her and held tight. Kaelith bucked slightly under the weight shift but stayed level. Ferrula gasped against my shoulder, clutching me like a lifeline.
Above us, Jax and Koddos moved in to surround the flailing Narvea, Jax shouting commands in a voice I could barely hear over the chaos. The green Clubtail shrieked again, disoriented and shaking midair, but no longer trying to toss anyone from her back.
“She’s affected by the smoke,” I breathed. “It’s messing with her mind.”
Ferrula’s voice trembled in my ear. “I couldn’t reach her. It was as if someone else was in her head.”
I held her tighter. “It is imperative that we identify them.”
Siergen’s voice poured through our minds like moonlight over still water. Narvea, come back to us. Your rider needs you. We need you.
It wasn’t a command. It wasn’t even magic as I understood it.
It was… warmth. A pull that wrapped around us like a memory. Something deep and ancient, threading through bone and bond alike. I felt it in my chest. In my breath. As if Kaelith’s heart had become my own.
What is that? I whispered, stunned.
That, Kaelith said, her voice soft with reverence, is my brother’s power. His soul. The power of the dragon leader. Our king.
Around us, I felt Thrall Squad falter—Cordelle’s awe, Jax’s shock, even Naia’s breath catch. They hadn’t known. But now… now they understood. Siergen wasn’t just the oldest. He wasn’t just wise or strange or revered.
He led them.
And he had called Narvea home.
The green Clubtail wobbled mid-air, her wings giving one final twitch before she angled downward, gliding heavily through the smoke.
Koddos broke formation and followed her down like a sentry.
I watched, my pulse steadying, as Narvea landed hard near a stretch of blackened grass, her head drooping as she collapsed gently to her side.
She’s alive, Kaelith confirmed. Weak. But safe.
We landed moments later. Kaelith’s talons bit into the scorched earth, and I slid from her back before my feet had fully touched the ground.
Ferrula was already moving.
She darted across the field without hesitation, her feet barely making a sound as she crossed the blackened soil and dropped to her knees beside Narvea’s massive head. Her hands stroked the mottled green scales with such tenderness it made my throat ache.
“I’m here,” she whispered, pressing her forehead to Narvea’s snout. “I’ve got you. I’m not going anywhere.”
Narvea let out a low, trembling breath, but it held no fire.
Behind me, the others dismounted in silence, the moment too sacred for noise.
I stepped closer, watching Ferrula cradle her dragon’s snout, her lips moving in soft reassurances only Narvea could hear. But the bond pulsed around them—real, vivid, alive.
And I finally understood what Siergen had meant. His magic wasn’t in spells or elements.
It was in unity.
And with it… he could bring even the most broken dragon back from the edge.
“What was that?” I asked, my voice low as I stared at Narvea’s prone form, Ferrula still curled beside her as if she could hold her together with sheer force of will.
Dark magic, Kaelith answered, and her voice was more growl than whisper. Not the kind used to kill. The kind meant to twist. To corrupt. To break a dragon’s will and remake it in the caster’s image.
I stared at her. “You mean… to turn them feral?”
Yes, she hissed, and her wings twitched, agitated. And the unbonded must be protected. They have no defense against this kind of spell.
I turned slowly, scanning the skies, the ruins of the charred outpost, the worried faces of my squad. “The Blood Fae… they’re targeting the unbound.”
Of course they are. A bonded dragon has their rider to anchor them. But a free one? Their minds are vulnerable. Their instincts… exploitable. If we lose the unbound—
“We’ll be fighting our own,” I whispered, my stomach twisting.
Kaelith didn’t answer. She didn’t need to.
The truth hung heavy between us.
I turned toward the clearing, toward the distant line of sky we had flown from only hours ago. “And we just called the lost horde.”
All without riders, Kaelith confirmed.
The reality of it dropped into my chest like stone. Dozens—no, hundreds—of dragons, flying here from across the sea. Hopeful. Free. Vulnerable.
And we’d painted a target on their backs.
“They’ll be slaughtered,” I said, barely breathing the words.
Or turned against us, Kaelith added, her tone sharper than bone. We need to warn them, Ashe. Now.
I nodded and spun back toward the others. Jax was helping Ferrula to her feet. Narvea hadn’t moved. Riven stood beside Cordelle, lips pressed into a thin line. Naia kneeled beside scorched earth, her fingers brushing blood-dark grass.