Chapter eight- The leape
Liora woke with her heart already pounding.
Her second day at the Academy felt heavier than the first. Yesterday had been humiliation and confusion; today was fear — real fear — the kind that sat in her chest like a stone and made every breath feel too shallow.
She dressed quickly and headed toward the dining hall, stomach twisting with dread.
She didn't want to go inside, not after yesterday's whispers and stares and the way every table had shifted away from her as if she carried something contagious.
But she needed food. She needed strength.
She had training. And tomorrow... tomorrow was the Trials.
She stepped into the hall just long enough to grab a plate from the serving counter.
The food was beautiful — warm honey?glazed rolls, soft cheeses, fresh berries, slices of roasted pear, a cup of spiced morning tea.
Everything smelled rich and sweet, the kind of breakfast nobles ate without thinking.
But Liora didn't stay. She didn't even glance toward the tables.
She carried her plate out of the hall as fast as she could, cheeks burning at the memory of yesterday's laughter.
Ashwing was waiting for her outside, perched near the path that led to the training cliffs. His silver scales shimmered in the early light, and he chirped softly when he saw her.
"I didn't want to eat in there," she whispered.
Ashwing nudged her shoulder gently, as if telling her he understood.
She walked with him toward the cliffs, the wind growing colder as they climbed.
When they reached the wide stone platform overlooking the valley, she sat on a low boulder and ate in silence.
The food was delicious — warm, soft, sweet — but she barely tasted it.
Her stomach was too tight, her mind too full of tomorrow.
Ashwing curled beside her, his tail wrapping around her feet to keep them warm.
He watched her eat with patient eyes, occasionally nudging her to take another bite.
"I'm trying," she murmured. "I really am."
Ashwing pressed his forehead against her shoulder, rumbling softly.
When she finished, she set the empty plate aside and stood.
Her legs felt shaky. Her palms were already sweating.
The Leap stretched out before her — a stone platform jutting over a dizzying drop, the wind howling around it.
Aiden arrived moments later, jogging up the path with his hair tousled by the wind, his uniform half?buttoned, cheeks flushed from the climb.
When he saw her, his expression softened.
"Morning," he said. "Did you eat?"
Liora hesitated. "Yes."
Aiden's eyes flicked to the empty plate on the boulder. "Out here?"
She looked away. "I didn't want to sit inside."
"Because of yesterday," he said gently.
Liora swallowed hard. "Can we just train?"
"Of course."
He stepped closer to the edge of the Leap. "Today isn't about flying. It's just the jump. Ashwing catches you with his foot. You don't fall. You don't fly. You just... trust."
Ashwing lifted one massive foreleg as if demonstrating, his claws curling delicately.
Liora managed a weak laugh. "He makes it look easy."
"For him, it is," Aiden said. "For you, it's the hardest part."
He guided her toward the edge. The wind whipped her hair across her face. Her legs locked.
"Look at me," Aiden said.
She did.
"You're not jumping to prove anything. You're jumping so Ashwing can do his part."
Her throat tightened. "I'm scared I'll fall before he catches me."
"You won't," Aiden said. "And even if you did, I'd catch you."
Her breath caught, but when she looked down at the drop, her body froze again. Her heart hammered. Her hands shook.
"I can't," she whispered. "Aiden, I can't."
He didn't push her. He didn't sigh. He didn't look disappointed.
"Then we practice the motion," he said. "Away from the edge."
They stepped back. Aiden demonstrated a clean, confident leap forward — not high, not far, just enough to show the movement.
"Your turn."
Liora tried. Her legs wobbled. She stumbled. Aiden caught her arm.
"Good. Again."
She tried again. And again. And again. Her muscles burned. Sweat dripped down her spine. Her breath came in ragged gasps. Ashwing paced behind her, chirping anxiously every time she stumbled. But she kept trying.
Aiden's voice stayed steady. "Better. You're getting it."
For a moment, she believed him.
Until a cold voice sliced through the wind. "Is this what passes for training now?"
Liora froze. Aiden's expression darkened. Kael stood a few paces away, arms crossed, storm?gray eyes fixed on her with a look that made her stomach twist. His dark hair was wind?tossed, his uniform immaculate, his posture relaxed in a way that felt like a threat. He had been watching.
Aiden stepped forward. "Kael. Leave her alone."
Kael ignored him. His gaze stayed on Liora. "You've been here two days," he said, voice smooth and cold. "And you still can't manage a simple jump?"
Liora's cheeks burned. "I'm trying."
"Trying," Kael repeated, as if the word amused him. "You have one day left before the Trials. One. And you still freeze at the edge."
Aiden's jaw clenched. "Kael—"
Kael lifted a hand, silencing him. "Do you know what happens to riders who can't jump?" he asked Liora. "They fail. And dragons without riders are reassigned."
Liora's breath caught. "Reassigned?"
Kael tilted his head. "Did no one tell you? If you can't even jump, Ashwing will be given to someone who can."
Ashwing growled, low and dangerous, wings flaring slightly.
Aiden stepped between them. "That's enough."
Kael's eyes flicked to Aiden, amused. "I'm simply stating the truth."
Liora's heart pounded. Her vision blurred. Her hands shook. Reassigned. Taken away. Tomorrow. Ashwing pressed his snout against her shoulder, rumbling anxiously.
Kael's voice softened — which somehow made it worse. "If you're this afraid of a jump, perhaps you should consider going home before you embarrass yourself further."
Something inside Liora cracked. Quietly. Sharply. Finally. She stepped past Aiden.
Kael raised an eyebrow. "Going to cry?"
"No," Liora said, voice trembling but steady. "I'm going to jump."
Aiden blinked. "Liora—"
But she was already moving. Ashwing's wings flared in surprise as she approached the edge. Her legs shook. Her heart hammered. Her breath came in short, panicked bursts. She turned to Ashwing, placing a hand on his warm scales.
"Catch me," she whispered.
Ashwing chirped, fierce and protective. He crouched.
Liora stepped to the edge. The wind roared. Her stomach twisted. Her fear screamed.
And she jumped.
For a heartbeat, there was nothing — no ground, no sky, no breath — just falling.
Then a massive claw closed gently around her waist. Ashwing caught her.
He lifted her effortlessly, wings beating the air as he swung her back onto the platform.
He set her down with surprising delicacy, rumbling proudly.
Liora gasped, breathless, shaking, overwhelmed — but she was smiling. Aiden let out a relieved laugh.
"You did it!"
Kael watched, expression unreadable, something sharp flickering in his eyes.
Liora didn't care. She had jumped. She had trusted.
And Ashwing had caught her. The memory of his claws closing around her still pulsed through her like a second heartbeat.
For the first time since arriving at the Academy, she felt something other than fear. She felt possibility.
Ashwing lowered his head until his snout brushed her shoulder, rumbling with pride and relief.
Liora pressed her palm to his warm scales, letting her breath steady.
Tomorrow would be harder. Tomorrow would be terrifying.
Tomorrow would decide everything. But for the first time, she believed she might survive it.
She might even succeed. Because Ashwing had caught her. Because he always would.
As the wind swept across the cliffs and the sun dipped behind the mountains, Liora stood a little straighter, her fear no longer crushing her but sharpening into determination. Tomorrow, she would jump again. Tomorrow, she would fly.