Chapter four - The judgment
The wind bit at Liora's cheeks as the Riders descended toward the mountain fortress.
She clung to the saddle behind the lead Rider, her fingers stiff with cold and fear, every muscle locked against the brutal certainty of the dragon beneath her.
Each wingbeat jolted through her bones, a reminder that she was far from the forest she knew, far from safety, far from anything familiar.
But Ashwing flew beside her, his silver wings cutting through the air with a grace that made the sky itself seem to bend around him.
Six months old, yet already the size and strength of a yearling—long?limbed, intelligent, magnificent.
His golden eyes never left her. Not once.
He flew close enough that she could feel the heat of him through the icy wind, close enough that she could almost pretend she wasn't terrified. Almost.
The Academy emerged from the mist like a carved monument to arrogance.
Towers of pale stone rose from the mountainside, banners snapping in the wind, their colors sharp against the gray sky.
Dragons circled above the highest spires, their shadows sweeping across the courtyard far below in slow, predatory arcs.
Liora's stomach twisted. She had never seen anything so grand—or so cold.
The dragons landed in the courtyard with a thunderous impact, stone trembling beneath their weight.
The moment Liora's boots touched the ground, Ashwing dropped beside her, wings half?spread, tail curling protectively around her legs as if daring anyone to come close.
Students turned. Not in fear. In fascination. A cluster of them gathered instantly, whispering behind gloved hands.
"Who is she?"
"She's not wearing Academy colors."
"Her clothes... she looks like she crawled out of the forest."
"She's not noble."
"Then how did she get a dragon like that?"
"The Council will take him."
Liora's cheeks burned. She pulled her threadbare cloak tighter around herself, wishing she could disappear into Ashwing's shadow. Ashwing rumbled, a low warning that vibrated through the courtyard, and the students stepped back—not in fear, but in wary respect—before continuing their whispers.
The lead Rider gestured sharply.
"Follow me."
Liora swallowed hard and obeyed, Ashwing glued to her side.
His claws clicked against the stone, each step echoing through the courtyard like a drumbeat.
Students parted around them like water around a rock, their eyes bright with curiosity and judgment.
Liora kept her gaze on the ground. She felt small.
She felt filthy. She felt like she was walking into a world that had already decided she didn't belong.
Ashwing sensed her distress. His tail brushed her leg with every step, a silent promise: I'm here.
I won't let them take you. But Liora wasn't worried about herself. She was terrified for him.
They passed through towering archways and echoing halls lined with tapestries depicting ancient battles.
Everything smelled of stone, polish, and power.
Liora's breath came shallow and fast. Her palms were slick with sweat.
Her legs felt unsteady beneath her. The Rider stopped before a pair of massive doors carved with dragons in flight.
"Inside," he said.
Liora hesitated.
Ashwing growled.
"The Council is waiting."
The doors opened, and Liora stepped into a chamber that felt like a trap.
Seven high?backed chairs formed a semicircle around a raised platform.
Stained glass windows cast fractured light across the marble floor, shards of color slicing through the air.
The atmosphere felt heavy, as if the walls themselves were holding their breath.
Seven Councilors stared down at her. Seven pairs of eyes filled with judgment.
Seven people who held the power to decide her fate—and Ashwing's.
The doors slammed shut behind her. Liora flinched. Ashwing's growl deepened, echoing through the chamber like distant thunder.
"A commoner," one Councilor said, voice dripping with disdain.
"A wild dragon," another added.
"Unregistered. Untrained. Unclaimed."
"She has no right to him."
"She should never have been brought here."
"She is a mistake."
Liora's breath came shallow and fast. Her hands trembled.
Her vision blurred at the edges. She felt like she was back in the burning village—smoke in her lungs, screams in her ears, the world collapsing around her.
She tried to speak. Nothing came out. Ashwing pressed against her leg, growling low and steady.
"The dragon must be seized."
"He belongs to the Crown."
"He will be reassigned to a noble rider."
"He must be trained properly."
"He cannot remain with her."
Liora's heart stopped. Reassigned. Taken.
Given away. Her breath hitched painfully.
Her knees nearly buckled. Ashwing sensed it instantly.
He stepped in front of her, wings half?spread, tail lashing, fire flickering between his teeth.
The Councilors didn't flinch. They didn't fear him.
They didn't respect him. They saw him as property.
A Councilor lifted a scroll.
"The Riders' report states the dragon is six months old."
The room fell silent.
"Six months? Impossible."
"He has the size of a yearling."
"And the intelligence."
"This makes him even more valuable."
"He must be seized immediately."
Liora's vision blurred with tears. Her throat burned. Her hands curled into fists. "He's not—" Her voice cracked. She swallowed hard. "He's not yours."
The nearest Councilor raised a brow. "Everything within this kingdom belongs to the Crown."
"He's mine," Liora whispered, voice shaking. "He's all I have."
"Then you have nothing," another Councilor said coldly.
Something inside Liora snapped. The fear didn't disappear—it transformed. It sharpened. It burned. She stepped in front of Ashwing, trembling but unyielding.
"You can't take him."
"You have no authority here."
"You have no lineage."
"You have no training."
"You have no claim."
"I have him," Liora said, voice breaking. "And he has me."
"Not for long."
Ashwing roared. The chamber trembled. The Councilors finally fell silent.
And that was when the doors opened.
A single figure stepped inside. Tall. Sharp. Cold as winter steel.
Kael.
He didn't rush. He didn't hesitate. He didn't look at the Council first. He looked at Ashwing.
Ashwing growled—but didn't lunge. Kael didn't react.
He didn't flinch. He simply assessed the dragon with cool, calculating eyes.
Then he looked at Liora, and she felt seen in a way that made her breath catch.
Not pitied. Not dismissed. Not judged. Measured.
Kael stepped forward, his boots echoing across the marble.
"If you want to take the dragon," he said, voice calm and cutting, "you'll need more than noise."
The Council bristled.
"Kael—"
"You overstep—"
"This is not your concern—"
Kael ignored them. He looked at Liora again, then at Ashwing. "You say she has no right to him," Kael said. "Then let her prove it."
The chamber froze.
"Trial her."
Outrage erupted instantly.
"You cannot be serious—"
"She is untrained—"
"She will die—"
"That is not our problem," Kael said. "If she fails, the dragon becomes yours. If she succeeds, you will have no grounds to take him."
Liora's heart pounded so hard she thought it might break. Kael turned to her, his eyes unreadable. "Do you accept?"
Liora swallowed hard. Ashwing pressed against her side, trembling. She placed a shaking hand on his neck.
"I won't lose him," she whispered.
Kael heard it. His expression didn't change. But something in his eyes did.
She lifted her chin. "I accept."
The Council exchanged furious whispers. Then the High Councilor stood.
"So be it. Three days from now, you will face the Trial of Claim. If you fail, the dragon is ours."
Liora's breath caught. Ashwing growled. Kael stepped back, arms crossed, watching her with a gaze that felt like a storm waiting to break.
The Council dismissed her with a wave. She didn't move. She couldn't. Her legs shook. Her vision blurred. Her breath came in ragged gasps. Ashwing curled around her, wings wrapping her like a shield. Liora buried her face in his warm scales and let the tears fall silently.
Kael watched her. And for the first time, something flickered behind his cold eyes. Not pity. Not softness. Not sympathy. Recognition. As if he saw a piece of himself in the girl who stood shaking before the Council, defending a dragon with nothing but her voice and her fear.
He turned away. But Liora felt the shift in the air. The Council had judged her and it had not been kind.