2. Alar
ALAR
"Two souls, one bond, one sky. That is the whole of it."
—Inscription on the Citadel's Hall of Riders
Morgateth was heading straight for Kailin.
I didn't need anyone to tell me that this was the dragon we'd all been dreading.
He was big, the largest dragon I'd ever seen, bigger even than Onyx.
His scales were deep blue, shot through with veins of crimson that looked like blood or lightning.
He radiated a danger so intense that I could feel it pressing against my skin from thirty meters away, and I wasn't even gifted with the kind of mental sensitivity that Kailin possessed.
Every instinct I had screamed at me to run to her, to pull her away, to put myself between her and this menacing creature.
I didn't move.
I couldn't. The ceremony required silence and stillness, and breaking protocol now could provoke the very dragon we all feared.
There had been rumors about dragons torching impudent cadets on the Day of Volition, but none of our instructors had confirmed them, and there had been nothing about that in the textbooks either.
Still, that didn't mean it hadn't happened.
Elurion knew how many things the governing forces didn't disclose to the populace, civilian or military.
Morgateth's stride was lumbering but purposeful, each step shaking the roof beneath his enormous talons. The other four dragons in his group continued their slow procession down the line of cadets, but they gave Morgateth a wide berth.
He didn't stop next to any of the other cadets, his burning eyes locked on Kailin as if he and she were the only ones on the roof.
My hands clenched into fists at my sides. Next to me, I heard Codric's sharp intake of breath. Further down the line, I saw from the corner of my eye Shovia going rigid.
Morgateth stopped before Kailin, and for a long moment, dragon and woman simply regarded each other. I couldn't hear what passed between them. I had no telepathic ability, no way to eavesdrop on the silent conversation unfolding between the most dangerous dragon on the force and the woman I loved.
All I could do was watch.
And then Morgateth lunged.
His massive head shot forward, jaws gaping.
Shovia screamed.
Cadets scrambled backward.
Someone swore.
My body moved before my mind caught up, one step forward, hand reaching for a weapon I wasn't carrying, heart slamming against my ribs so hard it felt like it was trying to break free from my chest.
Kailin didn't move.
She stood her ground as those enormous jaws stopped inches from her face, as the hot breath of a predator washed over her, as every person on that roof held their breath and waited for the worst.
She didn't flinch.
The moment stretched into eternity, and then something shifted. I couldn't see it or hear it, but I felt it, a change in the air, a settling of something vast and ancient into place.
"I choose you, noble Morgateth," Kailin said aloud, her voice carrying across the roof. "I choose you as my partner and my protector. You are a powerful dragon worthy of my bond."
I couldn't hear Morgateth's response, but I saw Kailin smile, and then I felt their bond slamming into place. I had witnessed the magical connection forming numerous times this morning, but nothing came close to the power of this one.
Kailin staggered, her knees buckling before she caught herself, and her expression transformed from determination to awe. Then her posture straightened, her shoulders settled, and the radiance emanating from her was enough to make me jealous of the damned dragon.
She looked complete in a way she had never looked before.
Morgateth knelt, and she climbed onto his back with a confidence and grace that was the result of weeks of training but also something more.
She reached for the riding straps and secured them, put on her goggles, and then the enormous dragon took a couple of bounding steps, launched them both over the parapet, and unfurled his massive wings.
The wind from his wingbeats nearly knocked me off my feet. Dragon and rider spiraled upward through the auroras, Morgateth's crimson-veined scales catching the light, and Kailin, my Kailin, small and golden-haired on the back of that beast, threw her head back and laughed.
I couldn't actually hear it, but I'd seen her laugh so many times before that I read her body language and heard her laughter in my mind.
She was magnificent.
And she was flying away from me on the wings of a deadly dragon.
"Breathe," Codric muttered from beside me.
I exhaled slowly, forcefully, and as I unclenched my fists, my palms were marked with half-moon indentations from my nails. Thankfully, I hadn't broken the skin.
Once the four remaining dragons departed, only two having chosen riders, Codric leaned closer to me. "She'll be fine." He didn't sound like he believed his own words.
"She chose the one dragon we all agreed to stay away from," I said under my breath. "Why would she do that? She could have refused the bond."
"She's Kailin. She does what she wants and makes you feel like an idiot for doubting her."
That was an accurate assessment.
The ceremony continued. More dragons arrived in groups of five, performing their slow, ponderous walk down the shrinking line of cadets. Bonds formed. Cadets flew away on the backs of their new partners. Others remained, waiting, hoping, trying not to let the growing anxiety show on their faces.
I focused on keeping my mind open and my body still, but it was difficult. Part of me was with Kailin, even though I could no longer see her, wondering if Morgateth's deadly reputation was about to claim a fourth rider.
She couldn't die, I reminded myself. She was part of the seven prophesied to save Aurorys. She was fine. If anyone could tame Morgateth, it was Kailin.
I forced my attention back to the ceremony.
Three more groups came and went. The line grew shorter. Morek bonded with a sleek bronze dragon who seemed to match his restless energy, practically vibrating with excitement as they launched into the sky.
Shovia still waited.
Codric still waited.
I still waited.
The doubt crept in gradually, starting at the edges of my mind and working inward.
What if the prophecy didn't require all five of us to be riders?
What if Saphir had been wrong about my role?
What if no dragon wanted a prince who'd lied his way into Elucia and whose family was trying to drag him back?
What if my father was right, and this had been nothing but a childish dream?
Another group landed. Five dragons, all of them striking, but one drew my eye immediately.
She was much smaller than Morgateth but larger than most dragonias except for Nyxath.
Her scales were extraordinary, shifting between silver, pale gold, a hint of turquoise, and a hint of pink, like light refracting through crystal.
Every time she moved, the colors changed, rippling across her body in patterns that seemed deliberate, as if she were showing off.
She was the most beautiful dragonia I had ever seen, and she seemed to be well aware of her extraordinary beauty.
Even her walk down the line of cadets was more graceful and less lumbering than the other dragons who had walked the line before her. She didn't ignore any of the cadets, assessing each one in turn with her amber eyes.
She paused before a cadet three places to my right, seeming to consider him for a little longer than those before him, but then moved on. She passed two more cadets, giving them only the most minimal of considerations, and then she was before me.
Her head lowered until we were nearly eye to eye, and those amber eyes held mine with an intensity that made my breath hitch.
It wasn't fear, though. It was recognition.
"You're impatient." Her voice entered my mind like warm water, smooth and unhurried, with an undercurrent of amusement. "Emotional, worried for your love. You think very loudly."
I almost laughed with relief and joy at hearing her in my mind. I caught myself, remembering the prohibition on speaking during the ceremony, and responded the way we'd been taught, forming the thought clearly and directing it outward.
"I was worried you wouldn't come."
"Of course, I would have come. Eventually." She tilted her head. "Are you always this tightly wound?"
"It's been a stressful day."
"Mmm." She regarded me with her intense, large eyes. "The prince who pretends he's a commoner."
"I'm just Alar here."
"I know who you are. I can read your mind, remember? Even before our bond forms, you can't hide from me. I see you. All of you."
It was terrifying, and I wasn't sure what to say to that. Did she know about the prophecy as well? Was it okay? What would Saphir and Nyxath have to say about that? Was it safe?
The dragonia chuffed. "You worry too much. Your secrets are safe with me, as mine are safe with you. The bond between us demands it."
"We haven't bonded yet."
I made a point of raising my shields. She shouldn't be privy to the prophecy until Saphir and Nyxath approved it. It was too late to shield my real identity from her, but that at least was my secret to share.
"I like you, Prince Alaranthus Tekumuton the Fifth.
You're stubborn and proud and more afraid than you want anyone to know.
You carry too many secrets, and you think too much.
But your heart is true, and when you made the decision to stay for the bonding instead of going home to your father, you proved that you have the courage to match your ambitions. "
"Is that enough?"
"It's more than most bring to the bonding."
She lowered her body, the universal dragon gesture of invitation. I stared at her for a moment that stretched beyond time.
"What's your name?" I asked.
"Veynathei."
The name resonated somewhere deep, all the way into the marrow of my bones. It felt like remembering something I'd never actually learned.
"It's an honor to make your acquaintance." I bowed as I would have to a royal.
"Will you do me the honor of accepting my bond, Prince Alaranthus Tekumuton the Fifth?"
"Only if you stop calling me that. I'm just Alar."
She chuffed. "Very well. Will you accept my bond, just Alar?"
"I accept."
I expected the bond to snap into place right then, but nothing happened.
"Patience." She sounded amused. "Come, Prince Alar. Climb on my back and let's fly."
I climbed. The scales beneath my hands were warm despite their metallic appearance, and the texture was finer than I'd expected, smoother than leather but with a grip that made my footing secure.
I settled into position and reached for the riding straps.
The fit felt natural, as if the space between her wings had been shaped specifically for me.
Then the bond hit.
It wasn't the violent slam that I expected. It was more like a secret door opening in a wall I hadn't known was there, letting light flood into a room that had been dark. Veynathei's presence filled my mind, warm and vast and surprisingly gentle.
I felt her amusement at my surprise. Her quiet satisfaction at having chosen well. A deep, patient wisdom that reminded me, absurdly, of my grandmother, the only member of my family who had never tried to make me into something I wasn't.
And beneath it all, her own vulnerability. She was younger than I'd assumed. Barely an adolescent in dragon terms.
"Aren't you too young to bond?"
"I became eligible this year." She launched from the roof. "Just in time to make you mine."
The force pressed me back in the saddle, the wind screaming past my ears.
The Citadel fell away beneath us, the mountains opening up into a panorama that took my breath away no matter how many times I saw it.
Peaks stretched to every horizon, draped in snow and aurora light, and the sky above was so vast and deep that I felt I could fall upward into it and never stop.
Veynathei climbed higher, riding a thermal with instinctive grace, her wings barely moving. The bond between us pulsed, her exhilaration intertwining with my own until I couldn't tell where her joy ended and mine began.
This was what I'd crossed borders and lied and fought and nearly died for. This moment. This sky. This bond.
For the first time since my mother's letter had arrived, the knot in my chest loosened.
"Isn't this wonderful?" Veynathei asked.
"Spectacular."
She banked northwest, giving me a view of the distant lowlands where Eluria sprawled beyond the mountain barrier. My home. The place my family wanted to drag me back to.
"Not today," Veynathei said, reading the thoughts I'd failed to shield. It should have been alarming but instead felt incredible. At least some of my burdens were no longer my own. I had a partner to carry some of the load for me. "Today, we fly."
We flew.
She showed me how to shift my weight to guide her turns, even though I had rehearsed it countless times with my flight instructors.
Every dragon was different, and I needed to learn her.
She instructed me on how to lean into a dive and trust her to pull up, how to read the air currents through the subtle changes in her wing angle.
She was patient and merciless at the same time.
"Stop trying to calculate the trajectory and just feel it. Flight is mostly instinct."
"I'm a strategist. Calculating is what I do."
"Calculating is what you hide behind. Flying requires trust."
She wasn't wrong, and she reminded me several times during the flight that she was never wrong, and that I should remember that.
I was starting to understand why riders described the bond as the most important relationship of their lives.
Veynathei had been in my mind for less than an hour, and she already knew me better than anyone except Kailin, maybe even better in some ways, because Kailin had to interpret my expressions and words and silences, while Veynathei simply read the truth beneath all of it.
It was terrifying.
It was wonderful.
It was freeing.