Chapter thirteen - Between trust and fear
By the time the morning drills ended, Liora's stomach felt like it was collapsing in on itself.
The adrenaline had drained out of her, leaving her shaky and hollow, and Ashwing nudged her side insistently as if reminding her she hadn't eaten since yesterday.
She rested her hand on his warm scales, feeling the familiar comfort of his presence even as her body trembled from exhaustion.
"I know," she murmured. "I'm starving too."
She knew she could eat in the dining hall—every student could—but knowing and belonging were not the same thing.
She had tried once, her first night at the Academy, walking in with a tray in hand and searching for a place to sit.
Every table had turned her away with looks, whispers, or outright silence.
Except Aiden. He had made space for her without hesitation, ignoring the stares.
But the next day, he hadn't been there, and she had eaten outside instead.
It was easier than pretending she didn't hear the whispers.
Today, though, hunger overpowered pride.
She stepped inside the dining hall, and the noise seemed to dim around her.
Not because people stopped talking—they kept laughing, kept eating, kept pretending she didn't exist—but because every pair of eyes that flicked toward her carried the same message: You don't belong here.
She felt it like a physical weight pressing against her ribs.
Some students whispered behind their hands.
Some stared openly, curious or hostile. A few nobles didn't bother hiding their disdain.
Seris smirked from across the room, leaning in to whisper something that made her entire table laugh.
Liora kept her gaze down and grabbed a tray.
The food smelled warm and comforting—roasted chicken, fresh bread, seasoned vegetables—but her stomach twisted with nerves.
She scanned the tables, searching for a place to sit.
Every table was full. Every table avoided her gaze.
The whispers grew louder as she stood there, frozen with her tray.
Then she saw Aiden. He sat with a group of second?years, laughing at something someone said, and when he looked up and spotted her, his expression shifted instantly—surprise, then recognition, then something like concern. He nudged the girl beside him.
"Move over."
"Why?"
"Because she's sitting here."
Liora froze as the whispers sharpened around her.
"Why is she sitting with them?"
"Is Aiden serious?"
"She's a first?year."
"She's a nobody."
"She's the one with the wild dragon."
Aiden lifted a hand and beckoned her over.
"Come on."
She walked toward him, trying not to look like she was rushing. The others at the table stared at her with varying degrees of curiosity, annoyance, or confusion, but none of them argued with Aiden—he was royal, after all. She sat down carefully, her hands trembling slightly.
"Thank you," she said quietly.
"You don't have to thank me," Aiden replied. "You're a student here like everyone else. You belong here."
Halfway through her meal, the atmosphere shifted.
A hush rippled through the hall as Kael entered with his year group—elite second?years in dark?trimmed uniforms. They walked like a formation, silent and disciplined.
Kael didn't look at anyone, but people moved out of his way instinctively.
He sat at his usual table, surrounded by the strongest riders of his year.
They didn't speak much, but they didn't leave him alone either.
They orbited him like planets around a sun they feared but respected.
Aiden followed her gaze.
"Ignore him. He's always like that."
"He doesn't seem like someone who enjoys meals," Liora muttered.
"He doesn't enjoy anything," Aiden said.
When lunch ended, Aiden walked her to the courtyard. The sunlight warmed the stone beneath their feet, but Liora still felt cold inside.
"You have Anatomy next," he said. "Only first?years attend. Second? and third?years have advanced classes."
"So it'll just be... me?" she asked.
"Just you," Aiden confirmed. "I have flight formations. But you'll be fine."
She nodded, even though she wasn't sure she believed him, and followed the stream of first?years toward the lecture hall.
Inside, the room was arranged in a semicircle around a raised platform.
Charts of dragon skeletons lined the walls—massive wings, elongated spines, skulls with rows of razor?sharp teeth.
Liora hovered awkwardly near the back, unsure where she belonged, until a girl with dark curls and warm brown eyes waved her over.
Mira scooted her books aside to make space, her smile warm and genuine.
"You can sit here."
"Are you sure?" Liora asked.
"Unless you want to sit next to Seris," Mira whispered.
"No. Definitely not."
"I'm Mira," the girl said.
"Liora."
"I know," Mira said. "Everyone knows. Wild dragon and all."
"Great," Liora muttered.
"Don't worry," Mira said. "I think it's cool."
Before Liora could respond, the instructor entered—a tall woman with ink?stained fingers and a long pointer stick tucked behind her ear. She clapped her hands sharply, and the room fell silent.
"First?years, welcome to Anatomy of Dragons. If you faint easily, now is the time to leave."
The instructor's gaze landed on Liora.
"You must be the mid?year arrival."
"Yes, ma'am."
"You're behind," the instructor said. "You'll need a tutor."
"A tutor?" Liora echoed.
"I can do it," Mira said immediately.
"Good," the instructor replied. "You'll meet after class."
Liora turned to Mira, stunned.
"You don't even know me."
"So?" Mira said. "You look like you need a friend."
"I... do," Liora admitted.
"Then it's settled," Mira said. "We're friends now."
The instructor tapped the board.
"Open your notebooks. Today we begin with the skeletal structure of drakes and wyrmlings."
Liora leaned forward, Mira beside her, Ashwing's warm presence lingering in her mind. The diagrams on the wall were overwhelming—massive skeletal wings, elongated spines, skulls with rows of serrated teeth.
"A wyrmling's wing is supported by five primary phalanges," the instructor said. "Count them. Memorize them. If you misidentify them during a field exam, you will fail."
Mira leaned toward her. "Slow down. I'll help you later."
"Thank you," Liora whispered.
"Friends help each other," Mira said.
The instructor moved on to the spine. "A wyrmling has thirty?two vertebrae. A drake has thirty?six. A full?grown dragon has forty?two. If you confuse them, you will be eaten."
Liora imagined Ashwing's spine—warm beneath her hands, flexible, powerful—and the thought steadied her.
"The sternum is reinforced with a double layer of bone," the instructor continued. "If the sternum is damaged, the dragon cannot fly."
Class continued for another hour. By the time the instructor dismissed them, Liora's notebook was a chaotic mess of sketches and half?finished sentences. Mira turned to her with a bright smile.
"Ready for your first tutoring session?"
"Yes, please," Liora said.
"Great. We'll go to the east courtyard. It's quiet there."
They walked together, and for the first time since arriving, Liora felt lighter.
She had survived her first real class. She had a tutor.
She had a friend. But as she stepped into the hallway, a strange sensation prickled at the back of her neck—like someone was watching her.
She glanced over her shoulder, but nothing seemed out of place.
The east courtyard was quiet, shaded by the arching branches of an ancient ash tree. Mira led Liora to a low stone bench near the fountain.
"This is my favorite spot," Mira said. "No students, no gossip. Just peace."
"It's... nice," Liora said.
"Perfect for studying," Mira added. "And hiding from people who annoy you."
Liora let out a small laugh.
They spent the next half hour going over wyrmling anatomy. Mira explained everything with patience, breaking down each bone and joint, drawing diagrams, labeling them neatly, and making Liora repeat the names until they stuck.
"Five primary phalanges," Mira said. "Think of them like fingers."
"That actually helps," Liora said.
"See? You're learning," Mira replied.
They were halfway through the sternum structure when a shadow fell across the bench. Liora looked up to see Instructor Veylan, the Academy's medical examiner, standing before them.
"Liora."
"Yes, sir?"
"You and your dragon have not completed your medical assessment."
"Medical assessment?" Mira asked. "She just arrived—"
"Exactly," Veylan said. "All new pairs must undergo a full physical evaluation. Dragon and rider. It is mandatory."
Liora's pulse spiked. She remembered Thalen's warning: Don't let them examine him.
"Report to the infirmary before sunset," Veylan said. "Both of you."
"Sir... Ashwing is still adjusting," Liora said. "He's anxious around new people."
"All dragons are anxious at first," Veylan replied. "That is not an excuse."
"He panics when separated from me."
"Then stay with him. The tests are harmless."
"He hasn't eaten since this morning," Liora tried. "Maybe tomorrow—"
"Before sunset," Veylan repeated. "If you fail to appear, it will be reported to the Headmaster." He turned and walked away.
Mira stared after him. "What was that about?"
Liora's hands trembled. "I... I can't let them test him."
"Why not?"
"They'll stress him," Liora said. "He's not ready."
"Liora... they test every dragon," Mira said. "It's normal."
"Not for him."
Mira studied her for a long moment.
"Okay. Then we'll figure something out."
"We?" Liora whispered.
"Friends help each other," Mira said.
"Mira... thank you," Liora whispered.
"We just need a plan," Mira said. "Something believable. Something that buys you time."
Liora looked toward the roosts, where Ashwing waited for her—silver scales shimmering, golden eyes bright with trust. She would not let them touch him. She would not let them test him. She would find a way.
No matter what it cost.