Chapter 18 #4
The logs in the fire snap, sending tiny sparks into the air. The glow dances across the clearing, flickering against the dark silhouettes of the trees that surround us.
Even in summer, the mountain air is cool. A distant wind howls through the peaks, weaving its way between ridges like something ancient and restless. I wrap my arms around myself now that it’s just me by the fire.
The others have already turned in—Lyra retreating to our tent with a yawn, Valen slipping into his.
But I can’t sleep. I’m too alive. Too wired with anticipation.
Tomorrow, I will stand on the edge of Velkar’s Descent. Tomorrow, I will finally meet Calryx. But tonight, I sit here alone, watching the fire curl and shift, heat licking at the cool night air.
Then—footsteps.
I don’t have to look to know it’s him.
Thane steps out of his tent, his movements quiet, deliberate. He doesn’t ask—just lowers himself onto the log beside me, his presence settling into the space like it’s always belonged.
For a long moment, neither of us speak. The firelight dances across his face, casting sharp shadows along chiseled cheekbones, making his eyes seem darker, more unreadable than usual.
Then, his voice, low and steady. “Are you ready?”
I don’t even have to think about my answer.
I exhale, my breath curling in the cool night air. “Yes.”
Thane leans forward, resting his forearms against his knees, watching the flames. A quiet beat passes.
“How are you so calm?”
It’s not a challenge. Not disbelief. Just curiosity.
I look at him, then back at the fire. “Because I know she’ll catch me.”
Thane’s eyes flick toward me, but he says nothing. He’s waiting.
I press a hand to my chest—where the bond has been growing, where I’ve felt Calryx’s presence every night since training began.
“She’s been with me,” I say softly. “Every night since that first dream.”
That gets his attention. He straightens, his gaze sharpening.
I swallow, remembering the way her voice curled through my thoughts, ancient and certain. The way I would reach for her, feel her presence, hear her whispers.
“She told me she couldn’t call to me until now,” I murmur. “Not until I could wield all four Elements at once.”
Thane doesn’t say anything, but I feel the way his focus shifts, like he’s turning that over in his mind, measuring it against what he knows.
“She’s been waiting,” I continue. “And now, I understand why.”
Thane exhales slowly, fingers tracing the grain of the log. Thinking. Calculating.
“Valen said the bond begins with the call,” I murmur. “But I think mine started before that. I think she chose me a long time ago.”
I glance at Thane then, watching for his reaction, but his face gives nothing away. Still, something in the way he holds himself—something in the way his gaze lingers on me a moment too long—tells me he understands.
I turn back to the fire, a slow smile tugging at the corner of my lips. I know I’m ready. And for the first time since this journey began, I don’t feel like I need to prove it.
Thane shifts beside me, stretching out his legs, his voice quieter now. “So you trust her.”
I nod. “I do.”
His eyes flick toward the fire, thoughtful. Then, finally, “Then you’ll be fine.”
I look at him again—the sharp cut of his jaw, the gold flecks in his eyes catching firelight. And I don’t know why—maybe it’s the stillness, maybe it’s the way this night feels like the end of something and the beginning of everything—but I grin.
Excitement still buzzes in my chest.
And after a moment—Thane smiles back.
The fire crackles between us, light catching in the sharp lines of his face—the jaw, the mouth, the worn shadows beneath his eyes. The air is still except for the wind threading softly through the trees.
The shadows shift, moving with the flames—curling around us, wrapping the night in something that feels . . . suspended. Like the world is holding its breath.
In that breath, we just look at each other.
And gods, there’s something in his eyes. Something unguarded. Something that reaches straight through me before either of us can stop it.
“I should get some sleep,” I say before he can do that pull-and-push thing again.
Before he shifts, or deflects—right now is perfect. And I can’t take any more.
He swallows, and for a split second, I see it—his jaw tightening, something sharp flickering behind his eyes. But then it’s gone.
He smiles. Soft. Easy. Controlled. “Goodnight, Amara.”
I nod, but I don’t say it back—not out loud. I let the moment linger a heartbeat longer, then rise and slip into the night. The firelight trails behind me like a memory.
The next morning, the air is crisp, the sky a vast expanse of pale blue streaked with the first hints of dawn. Earth and pine fill my lungs—fresh, sharp, laced with the faintest trace of smoke from last night’s fire, still clinging to our clothes.
No dragons accompany us. That’s the rule. This is about the rider and their dragon. No interference or outside forces. Just a bond waiting to be forged.
It will take a few hours on foot to reach Velkar’s Descent. And with every step forward, the weight of what’s coming settles deeper in my chest—undeniable. A sweet pressure, steady as my heartbeat.
Thane and Valen walk ahead of me, their strides even and purposeful, voices low as they speak in clipped tones—patrol routes, border movements, the state of the realm. The world is still turning, still fighting, even as I prepare to leap into something that could change everything.
Thane doesn’t look back. Not once.
Lyra stays beside me, her presence a quiet reassurance. The silence between us brims with anticipation.
As the morning wears on, the terrain shifts—soft dirt paths giving way to uneven trails, the air thinning as we climb. The mountains rise around us, vast and jagged. The trees grow sparse, replaced by wind-scoured stone and sharp ridgelines.
Velkar’s Descent waits ahead.
A place of legend. A place where riders are made.
A place where I will become one.
The pull inside me hasn’t faded. If anything, it has grown stronger. A deep, thrumming current beneath my skin—fire and air and something older—humming through my bones.
Calryx is waiting.
The wind is fierce at this height, tugging at my hair, whipping at my shirt—pushing me forward before I’m even ready.
Except, I am ready.
Below me, the world stretches vast and endless, the valley bathed in golden afternoon light. The cliffs here are weathered, carved by time and history. This is where riders are forged.
Where I will meet my dragon.
Where I will become one with Calryx.
A hum pulses beneath my skin—magics stirring, responding to the pull that’s guided me since the moment she whispered my name.
Fire. Air. Water. Earth. All of it alive inside me. All of it waiting.
I feel Thane’s gaze on me. He didn’t say much on the hike up to the cliffs. I know what he’s thinking. He knows this is the way it must be—the way riders bond with dragons—but he worries. The realm needs me alive to defeat the Shadow Forces. Needs me strong. Safe. Whole.
But this isn’t something he can control.
This is my choice. Her choice.
And she has called me.
The bond doesn’t come to those who are hesitant. A dragon will not catch a soul that does not trust.
I stand at the edge of the cliff. The rocks below are jagged teeth, hundreds of feet down. The void stretches before me. Endless. Waiting.
This is a surrender of self.
If I want this—want her—I have to trust. Completely.
Lyra paces. She hasn’t stopped fidgeting since we arrived. Arms crossed, bouncing on her heels, throwing worried glances between me and the edge of the cliff.
“You know you don’t have to do this, right?” she says, voice pitched just a little too high.
I grin, unable to stop it. My magics pulse beneath my skin, buzzing like lightning at the edge of a storm.
“No, Lyra. I don’t have to. I get to!”
For days, sleep has not been a sanctuary. It has been a threshold. A whisper from something ancient and alive—always just beyond reach.
I didn’t dream of fire or battle. I dreamed of a shadow moving through moonlight. A glint of silver—fluid, endless—slipping through the sky like a falling star. Emerald eyes piercing through the darkness, filled with knowledge ancient and vast.
I reached for her, but never quite touched. I heard her voice, felt her slipping through my fingers like mist at dawn.
You are almost ready, Virelya. But not yet. Soon.
That’s what she calls me in dreams. Virelya. Beloved Flame. Little Flame. And somehow, I understood it—even in the dream.
And then I woke—breathless—my heart hammering, skin damp with sweat, fingers curled like they were still reaching for something lost in the darkness. Something that was waiting for me.
But today? Today I understand.
Lyra makes a noise like she’s swallowing a scream. “Oh, so we’re just diving off cliffs now? Like that’s a totally normal thing?”
“Yes,” I say, grinning wider.
“No,” Lyra hisses at the same time, shooting a panicked look at Valen and Thane like they might talk sense into me.
But they know better. This choice was made long before I reached this cliff. Long before I even knew her name. Maybe even when the prophecy was first spoken.
I turn to Valen. He nods—calm, resolute—the wind tugging at the edges of his robe.
“You’ve already chosen her,” he says. “Now let her choose you.”
I meet Thane’s gaze last. His eyes burn as they track my every movement.
For a moment, I wonder if he’ll say something—anything. But he just watches. Waiting. Measuring. Every muscle in his beautiful, battle-honed body pulled taut.
I raise a brow. “Not going to tell me to be careful?”
His jaw ticks, but his voice stays steady. “You don’t do careful.”
I smirk. “That’s true.”
A beat of silence. His gaze flickers—just for a second. Not the war-hardened mask he usually wears. Worried. Raw.
And it slips through before Thane can stop it.
Then, after a sharp exhale, “Just don’t make me regret this.”