Chapter 3
The second day began with Physical Conditioning, and I knew within five minutes that I was going to die.
"Faster!" Master Wren shouted, her voice echoing across the training yard. "My grandmother moves faster than this, and she's been dead for twenty years!"
I tried to run faster. My legs had other ideas.
The training yard was a massive expanse of packed earth behind the main Academy buildings, surrounded by high stone walls. Obstacle courses stretched across one section, combat rings occupied another, and we-the unfortunate first-years-were currently running laps around the perimeter.
Well, everyone else was running. I was doing something between a jog and a fast walk, each breath burning through my lungs like acid.
Master Wren was a compact woman with iron-gray hair pulled into a severe bun, muscles that suggested she could break most of us in half, and absolutely zero patience for weakness.
She stalked along the inside of our running path, her bonded griffin perched on a post nearby, golden eyes tracking our pathetic progress.
"Vale!" Her voice cracked like a whip. "Pick up the pace or pick up your things and leave!"
I tried. Gods, I tried. My legs trembled, my vision swam, and my chest felt like someone had wrapped iron bands around it and was slowly tightening them.
I made it another ten steps before my knees buckled.
I caught myself on my hands, gravel biting into my palms, coughing so hard I tasted copper.
Master Wren appeared above me, blocking out the sun. "Get up."
"I-" Cough. "I can't-" Cough.
"Then you're dismissed. Permanently."
The words hit like ice water. I looked up at her through watering eyes, seeing no sympathy in her face. Just cold assessment.
"Wait." The word came from somewhere to my left.
A boy jogged over-golden-haired, bright-eyed, with a smile that seemed permanently attached to his face. He wasn't even winded despite the brutal pace. A sun phoenix was embroidered on his collar in brilliant gold thread. Second-year.
"Master Wren," he said cheerfully, "respectfully, it's only day two. Maybe we could cut the first-years some slack? I nearly died during my first week."
"You did die during your first week, Draxen. I had to get the healers to restart your heart after you thought you could take on three upperclassmen at once."
"Exactly! Character-building experience." His grin widened. "Besides, pushing them until they collapse on day two doesn't give us enough time to see what they're really made of. Could be she's a late bloomer. Could surprise us all."
Master Wren's eyes narrowed. "Or she could die in the Wilderness and waste everyone's time."
"Could," he agreed. "But wouldn't you rather find out after giving her a fair shot?"
They stared at each other for a long moment. Then Master Wren sighed. "Fine. Vale, you can walk the rest of the laps. But you will complete them. All of them. Even if it takes you until sunset."
She stalked away, barking orders at other struggling students.
The golden-haired boy offered me his hand. "Caleb Draxen. Professional pain in Master Wren's ass. You're Serenya, right? The scholarship girl everyone's talking about?"
I took his hand warily, letting him pull me to my feet. "Everyone's talking about me?"
"Well, everyone's talking about the girl who got Marcus to piss himself in the courtyard. Word travels fast." He started walking beside me, matching my pathetically slow pace. "Also, you're the first person in like three years that my brother's actually looked at. That's newsworthy."
My stomach dropped. "Your brother?"
"Kairen. The living void of joy you saw in the dining hall.
We're brothers, though you wouldn't know it to look at us.
" He gestured between himself and the distant figure I could now see across the training yard-Kairen, working through a combat drill with deadly precision, shadows flowing around him like water.
"I got all the personality. He got all the homicidal tendencies. "
"He doesn't seem that bad," I said, then immediately regretted it when Caleb's grin turned sharp with interest.
"Doesn't seem that bad? He made Marcus-Marcus Veyre, whose family literally owns half the southern provinces-run away like a scared child.
Kairen hasn't said more than ten words to anyone outside Terrance and Torin in two years.
And you think he doesn't seem that bad?" Caleb laughed.
"You're either incredibly optimistic or terrible at reading people. "
"Maybe both," I muttered.
We walked in silence for a moment, my breathing slowly steadying. Across the yard, I could see Brooke in one of the combat rings, sparring enthusiastically with another first-year. She was grinning even as she got knocked on her ass.
"So," Caleb said, "scholarship exam. Five percent acceptance rate. That's impressive for someone who..." He paused delicately.
"Who can barely walk without collapsing?" I finished. "You can say it. Everyone's thinking it."
"I was going to say 'for someone clearly dealing with a chronic condition,' but sure, your version works too." His tone wasn't mocking, just matter-of-fact. "What is it, if you don't mind me asking? Lung curse? Failed healing spell?"
"The healers were never sure. Some kind of weakness I was born with. My mother thinks it was a botched protection spell she tried to cast while pregnant, but..." I shrugged. "Does it matter? The result's the same."
"It matters if you're trying to survive seven weeks of training and then seven days in the Wilderness." He glanced at me sideways. "Have you thought about what you'll do if you can't complete the physical requirements?"
"Fail, I guess. Go home. Spend the rest of my short life scrubbing floors like my mother."
"Dark. I respect it." He was quiet for a moment. "Or-and hear me out-you could focus on what you're good at. Theory, strategy, magical knowledge. Plenty of successful bonds don't rely on physical strength. Basilisks, for instance. They value patience and steadiness over brute force."
"No creature wants to bond with someone weak," I interrupted. "Everyone knows that. They choose the strong, the capable, the worthy. I'm none of those things."
"Bullshit."
I blinked at him.
"Complete bullshit," Caleb continued cheerfully.
"Creatures choose compatibility, not just strength.
You think every successful bond in history was some muscle-bound warrior?
My great-aunt bonded with a phoenix, and she was paralyzed from the waist down.
One of the most powerful fire mages in three generations.
The bond doesn't care about your body-it cares about your spirit. "
"That's a nice story," I said quietly.
"It's true. I can show you the historical records if you want." He nudged my shoulder gently. "Look, I know I'm annoyingly cheerful and you have no reason to trust me. But I've been watching the first-years, and you've got something most of them don't."
"What? A death wish?"
"Stubbornness. You should be in the infirmary right now, but you're still here.
You should have told Master Wren to fuck off, but you're still walking laps.
That's worth something." He paused. "Also, Kairen's shadows reacted to you.
That's... unprecedented. My brother's control is absolute.
Nothing breaks it. Except, apparently, you. "
My face heated. "That wasn't-I didn't do anything-"
"I know. That's what makes it interesting.
" Caleb's expression turned thoughtful. "Kairen bonded young.
Too young, really. Fifteen. The first dragon bond in almost three hundred years.
Our father bonded with a phoenix-a powerful one, but still just a phoenix.
No one expected Kairen to attract a dragon, let alone Nyx.
" He shook his head. "But something went wrong during the process-the bond took too much from him.
Made him... empty. Cold. He can barely feel anything anymore. "
"Why are you telling me this?"
"Because his shadows reacted to you. That means something in him reacted to you. And if something can make Kairen Draxen feel anything at all..." He trailed off, then flashed that easy grin again. "Well, that's worth paying attention to."
We finished the lap in silence. By the time we completed it, most of the other students had finished and moved on to other exercises. Master Wren gave me a curt nod-acknowledgment that I'd done what she asked, barely-and dismissed me.
Caleb walked with me toward the water barrels at the edge of the yard. "Fair warning: Kairen's not going to be happy that I talked to you. He's very committed to his whole 'brooding loner' aesthetic. Doesn't like when people get close to anyone he's even marginally noticed."
"He didn't notice me. He just happened to be there when Marcus was being an ass."
"Keep telling yourself that." Caleb handed me a ladle of water. "But watch-he's going to avoid you now. Aggressively. He'll probably rearrange his entire schedule to make sure you never cross paths."
"Good," I said. "I don't want to cross paths with him anyway."
"Liar." Caleb's grin was infuriating. "Everyone wants to cross paths with Kairen. He's like a natural disaster-terrible, but fascinating to watch."
Before I could respond, a cold voice cut through the training yard noise.
"Caleb."
We both turned. Kairen stood ten feet away, shadows pooling at his feet despite the bright midday sun. His storm-gray eyes were fixed on his brother with absolutely no warmth.
"Big brother!" Caleb's cheerfulness didn't waver. "Enjoying the lovely weather? The fresh air? The screams of dying first-years?"
Kairen's jaw tightened. "A word. Now."
"Can it wait? I'm having a delightful conversation with-"
"Now."
The temperature dropped several degrees. Students nearby suddenly found reasons to be elsewhere.
Caleb sighed. "Duty calls. Serenya, it was lovely meeting you. Don't die in training. I'm rooting for you." He handed me the ladle and sauntered over to his brother, completely unbothered by the frost forming on the ground around Kairen's feet.
I couldn't hear what they said, but I could see Kairen's face-cold, expressionless, except for the muscle jumping in his jaw. His hands were clenched at his sides, and the shadows around him writhed restlessly.
Caleb said something that made Kairen's eyes narrow. Then Caleb laughed, clapped his brother on the shoulder, and walked away whistling.
Kairen stood there for a moment longer, those storm-gray eyes finding me across the training yard.
We stared at each other for three heartbeats.
Then he turned and walked away, his stride quick and purposeful. Running from something.
Running from me.
The afternoon class was Creature Taxonomy with Professor Veyra, and I was grateful to be sitting down.
The classroom was enormous, with high ceilings painted to look like the sky.
Display cases lined the walls, filled with preserved specimens and detailed models of every creature known to bond with humans.
A massive phoenix perched on a stand near the professor's desk, its flames casting dancing light across the room.
Professor Veyra was a tall woman with silver-streaked black hair and sharp eyes that missed nothing. She wore flowing crimson robes embroidered with flame patterns that seemed to actually flicker.
"Creatures," she began, her voice carrying easily through the room, "are not animals.
They are not pets. They are ancient, intelligent beings with their own agendas, their own magic, their own understanding of the world.
To bond with one is to enter a partnership that will define the rest of your life. "
She gestured, and illusions sprang to life above her desk-a phoenix, a griffin, a basilisk, each rendered in perfect detail.
"There are four types of creatures that can bond with humans," Professor Veyra continued.
"Three of which you have a realistic chance of encountering.
Each has distinct characteristics, requirements, and magical affinities.
Your compatibility with a creature depends on your nature, your magic, and your spirit. "
The phoenix illusion grew larger, wreathed in brilliant flames.
"Phoenix. Fire affinity. Phoenixes bond with those who possess fierce will and emotional intensity.
They are reborn from their own ashes, making their bonded humans incredibly difficult to kill.
However, they demand constant passion from their human-phoenixes bonded to emotionally cold individuals will literally burn themselves out.
They seek fire in the soul, not the body. "
Next, a griffin with golden wings. "Griffins.
Air and earth affinity. They bond with those who value loyalty and honor above all else.
Griffin-bonded humans make excellent warriors and protectors.
Griffins are social creatures and prefer humans who work well in groups.
They are the most common successful bond, as their requirements are straightforward: prove your courage and your loyalty. "
A massive basilisk coiled across the illusion space.
"Basilisks. Earth affinity. They bond with patient, steadfast individuals.
Basilisk-bonded humans gain incredible defensive abilities and connection to the earth itself.
They are slow to anger but devastating when provoked.
Basilisks value endurance over flash, substance over style.
They are the rarest of the common bonds, but still achievable for those with the right temperament. "
She paused, and the three illusions faded.
"These three," she said, "are what you should focus on. These are the creatures you will likely encounter in the Wilderness. These are the bonds that are possible for you."
A hand shot up near the front. "What about dragons, Professor?"
Professor Veyra's expression didn't change, but something flickered in her eyes. "Dragons. Yes. The fourth type." She gestured, and a new illusion materialized above her desk.
The entire class went silent.
A dragon coiled through the air-black as midnight, scales that seemed to absorb light, eyes like frozen stars. It moved with liquid grace, predatory and beautiful and utterly terrifying.
"Shadow dragons," Professor Veyra said quietly. "The rarest bond in existence. So rare that in the three-hundred-year history of this Academy, there has been only one successful dragon bond. One. Out of tens of thousands of students."
She let that sink in.
"Five years ago, Kairen Draxen bonded with Nyx at the age of fifteen.
Before that, the last recorded dragon bond was two hundred and seventy-three years ago.
Dragons do not choose often. When they do, it is for reasons we still do not fully understand.
They require something beyond trust, beyond compatibility.
They require a resonance of spirit so rare that most scholars believe it occurs perhaps once in a generation, if that. "
The shadow dragon illusion circled above us, magnificent and deadly.
"You will not bond with a dragon," Professor Veyra said flatly, looking at each of us in turn. "Put that fantasy out of your heads now. The statistical probability is so close to zero as to be meaningless. Even hoping for a dragon bond is foolish arrogance that will only lead to disappointment."
She paused, then gestured again. The shadow dragon faded, replaced by something that made my breath catch.
A dragon of pure light.
White scales that seemed to glow from within, eyes like captured starlight, wings that trailed luminescence like falling snow. It was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen.
And looking at it made my chest ache with a longing so profound I had to press my hand over my heart to contain it.
"Light dragons," Professor Veyra said, her voice taking on an almost reverent tone.
"The counterpart to shadow dragons. Once, they were as rare as their shadow counterparts-appearing perhaps once every few generations.
But the last confirmed sighting of a light dragon was over three hundred years ago.
The last confirmed bond, three hundred and forty-seven years. "
She let the illusion linger, the light dragon circling gracefully above us.
"Most scholars now believe light dragons to be extinct.
Hunted to extinction, some say, during the Purge Wars when those who feared their power tried to eliminate them.
Others believe they went into hiding so deep in the Wilderness that they will never emerge again.
Still others think they simply... faded, as the world grew darker and the magic they represented diminished. "
The ache in my chest grew stronger. I couldn't look away from the illusion.
"We still teach about light dragons," Professor Veyra continued, "because the records of their power are too significant to ignore.
Light dragon bonds were said to be the most powerful magical partnerships ever recorded.
Where shadow dragons grant control over darkness, cold, and void, light dragons granted control over radiance, warmth, and creation.
Together, a shadow dragon bond and a light dragon bond were said to be unstoppable-perfect opposites that could reshape reality itself. "
She waved her hand, and the light dragon faded. The loss of it felt physical.
"But that is ancient history. Legend. Fantasy." Professor Veyra's voice turned sharp. "You are here to learn about real creatures, real bonds, real possibilities. Focus on phoenix, griffin, and basilisk. Those are your options. Anything else is a waste of your time and energy."
The rest of the lecture passed in a blur of details about nesting behaviors and feeding patterns and magical signatures. I took notes mechanically, but my mind was still on that light dragon illusion.
On the way it had made something in my chest wake up and whisper yes.
On the way looking at it had felt like coming home.
"Miss Vale."
I jerked my head up. Professor Veyra was looking at me with an unreadable expression, and I realized the class had ended. Students were filing out, chattering excitedly about which creatures they hoped for.
"Yes, Professor?"
She studied me for a long moment, her sharp eyes seeming to see through me. "You seemed particularly affected by the light dragon portion of the lecture."
Heat flooded my face. "I-it was just beautiful. The illusion."
"It was." She crossed her arms. "But I've taught this class for fifteen years, Miss Vale. I've shown that illusion to thousands of students. Most find it interesting. Some find it sad-a reminder of what's been lost. Very few react the way you did."
"How did I react?"
"Like you were in pain. Like looking at it hurt you." Her gaze sharpened. "Like you recognized something."
My heart was pounding. "I don't know what you mean, Professor."
"Don't you?" She was quiet for a moment.
"Light dragons were said to choose humans who carried light within them-not happiness or optimism, but something deeper.
An inner radiance that persisted despite darkness.
Despite hardship. Despite suffering." Her eyes traveled over me, taking in my too-thin frame, my pale skin, the way I held myself like I was always bracing for the next blow.
"They chose those who had every reason to surrender to darkness but refused. "
I couldn't speak. Couldn't breathe.
"But as I said," Professor Veyra continued, her voice returning to its usual briskness, "light dragons are extinct. This is purely academic discussion. You would do well to focus on realistic options." She gestured toward the door. "You're dismissed, Miss Vale."
I left on shaking legs, her words echoing in my skull.
They chose those who had every reason to surrender to darkness but refused.
That night, after Brooke returned with food I couldn't eat and fell asleep mid-sentence, I waited.
The shadows came right on schedule.
That familiar tendril emerging from beneath my bed, stretching across the floor toward me with almost eager purpose now. Like it had been waiting all day for this moment.
I reached out my hand without hesitation.
The shadow met my fingers, and the relief was immediate and profound. Pain vanished. Lungs cleared. For these stolen moments, I felt whole.
But tonight was different.
Tonight, the shadow didn't just curl around my wrist. It spread up my arm, gentle and curious, exploring. Not threatening. Just... learning.
And I felt him more clearly than ever before.
Kairen, somewhere in the Academy, feeling every touch of his shadow against my skin. I could sense his presence like a distant storm-cold, vast, barely controlled. Furious at his own loss of control.
Terrified of what it meant.
The shadow pulsed against my skin, and I thought about Professor Veyra's words.
Perfect opposites that could reshape reality itself.
Shadow and light.
Darkness and radiance.
Two halves of something that hadn't existed in three hundred years.
The shadow retreated reluctantly as footsteps passed in the hall, sliding back beneath my bed.
I pulled my hand back and stared at the place where it had touched me, where my skin still tingled with cold that felt like recognition.
Seven weeks until the Bonding Trial.
Seven weeks to figure out what was happening.
Seven weeks with shadows reaching for me in the dark, and a boy who looked at me with dead eyes while his magic betrayed everything he tried to hide.
And the growing, impossible suspicion that what I'd felt when Professor Veyra showed that light dragon-that recognition, that ache, that whisper of yes-wasn't imagination.
It was something far more dangerous.
Something that couldn't exist.
Something extinct.
Something that would change everything if it turned out to be real.