Chapter fifteen -Wispers sharper than blades
Liora barely made it three steps out of the courtyard before she heard someone shouting her name.
She turned just in time to see Mira sprinting toward her, panic etched across her face, her hair flying behind her like a banner of alarm.
But Mira never reached her. Ashwing moved first. A deep, guttural growl tore from his chest as he lunged between them, wings flaring just enough to block Mira's path.
His golden eyes narrowed into razor?thin slits, every muscle coiled with protective fury.
He looked ready to tear apart anyone who came too close.
Mira skidded to a halt, hands raised in surrender.
"Okay—okay! I'm not touching her!"
Ashwing didn't care. He pressed himself against Liora's side, tail curling around her leg, his body forming a barrier between her and the world. His breath came in sharp, agitated bursts, and his scales bristled with tension.
"Liora," Mira said breathlessly, her voice shaking, "are you hurt? Are you bleeding? Did they—did they touch you? Did they touch him?"
Liora tried to answer, but her throat closed. Her voice felt trapped somewhere behind the panic still clawing at her ribs. She reached out with a trembling hand and placed it gently on Ashwing's snout.
"It's okay," she whispered. "Ashwing... it's Mira. She's safe."
He allowed her touch — only hers — but he didn't relax. His wings stayed half?raised, his tail tightened protectively around her ankle, and his eyes never left Mira.
Mira swallowed hard and stepped back a few paces.
"He's... really not letting anyone near you."
"No," Liora whispered. "Not right now."
Mira's face softened with worry.
"Liora, what happened?"
Liora opened her mouth, but nothing came out. The words stuck like thorns in her throat. She couldn't tell Mira about the threat. She couldn't tell her about the examiners. She couldn't tell her about Kael. She couldn't tell her about the overheard conversation.
"I... I can't," she whispered.
Mira's expression fell, but she didn't push.
"Okay. Then let me walk you back."
Ashwing growled again.
Mira lifted her hands.
"Fine. I'll follow from behind."
Liora nodded, grateful and exhausted. Ashwing stayed glued to her side, every breath sharp, every movement protective, his tail brushing her leg with every step as if making sure she didn't disappear.
Students stared as they passed — some wide?eyed, some whispering, some openly gawking.
Liora felt their eyes like needles on her skin.
She kept her gaze fixed on the ground, wishing she could disappear.
When they reached the dorm building, Ashwing stopped abruptly. The barrier shimmered, repelling him. He let out a distressed rumble and paced anxiously just beyond the doorway. Liora pressed her forehead to his snout.
"I'll be back soon," she whispered. "I promise."
Ashwing nudged her cheek, reluctant but obedient, though his eyes never left her even as she stepped inside.
The dorm hall felt too quiet, too normal, too painfully indifferent to the chaos she had just survived.
She climbed the stairs slowly, her legs heavy, her mind foggy.
When she reached her room, she pushed the door open, hoping Seris would be asleep or gone.
She wasn't. Seris sat at her desk, brushing her long dark hair in slow, deliberate strokes.
She looked up the moment Liora entered, her eyes narrowing with a mixture of annoyance and amusement.
"Oh," Seris said, her voice dripping with false sweetness. "You're alive. Shame. I was hoping I'd get a new roommate."
Liora froze in the doorway.
Seris smirked.
"Relax. I'm joking."
She paused.
"Mostly."
Liora stepped inside and closed the door behind her. She didn't have the energy for this. Not tonight. Seris set down her brush and turned fully toward her, crossing her legs with practiced elegance.
"So," she said, leaning back in her chair, "I heard your dragon went wild. Nearly killed the examiners. Caused a scene so big half the Academy is still talking about it."
Liora's stomach twisted.
"That's not what happened."
"Isn't it?" Seris tilted her head, eyes gleaming. "Because that's what everyone's saying. And honestly? I believe them. You don't exactly scream 'capable.'"
Liora clenched her jaw.
"Ashwing was scared."
"Mm." Seris waved a hand dismissively. "Dragons don't get scared. They get violent."
"You don't know anything about him," Liora said, her breath hitching.
Seris laughed softly. "I know enough. And I know Kael stepped in." Her voice shifted — still mocking, but with a faint, unmistakable edge of something else.
Liora frowned. "Why does everyone assume he saved us?"
Seris's smile sharpened. "Because he's Kael. Because he's royal. Because people listen when he speaks." She shrugged, pretending not to care, though her eyes flickered with envy. "And because he doesn't waste his time on just anyone."
Liora stiffened. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Oh, nothing." Seris picked up her brush again, running it through her hair with slow, graceful strokes.
"Just that some of us have been trying to get his attention for months.
And then you—" she gestured vaguely at Liora, "—show up with your little dragon tantrum and suddenly he's swooping in like some cold, brooding hero. "
"I didn't ask him to," Liora said quietly.
"Of course you didn't," Seris replied lightly. "But he still did. And now everyone's talking about it."
She sighed dramatically. "Honestly, it's exhausting. I was hoping for a quiet year."
Liora turned away and pulled her blanket over her shoulders. She didn't respond. She couldn't. Her throat felt too tight, her mind too full. Seris watched her for a moment, then rolled her eyes.
"I hope you get expelled," she said. "I'd love a new roommate."
Liora lay down, staring at the wall, listening to Seris hum as she returned to her grooming.
Outside, through the window, she could hear Ashwing pacing restlessly in the courtyard, his claws scraping the stone.
She didn't sleep. Not really. She drifted in and out of shallow, restless dreams, waking every time Ashwing shifted or the hallway creaked.
Her mind kept replaying the same moments — the roar, the threat, Kael's cold expression, the whispered conversation she wasn't meant to hear. By morning, she felt hollow.
The Academy didn't slow down for fear or trauma.
Classes began at dawn, and Liora had no choice but to attend.
She met Mira outside the dorms, and Ashwing pressed his snout against her the moment she stepped out.
He nudged her repeatedly, checking her scent, her face, her hands, as if making sure she was still alive.
But he didn't let Mira touch her. Not even close.
Mira kept a respectful distance, worry etched across her face. "You look awful."
"I feel worse," Liora admitted.
They walked together toward the lecture halls, Ashwing trailing behind them until the building's barrier forced him to stop. He let out a low, unhappy rumble, but Liora stroked his snout through the shimmering ward.
"I'll be back," she whispered. "I promise."
He didn't like it, but he stayed.
Inside, the hallways buzzed with whispers.
Students glanced at her, then quickly looked away.
Some stared openly. Some whispered behind their hands.
Some gave her sympathetic looks. Others looked afraid.
Liora kept her head down. Mira stayed close, glaring at anyone who stared too long.
Aiden joined them halfway to the lecture hall, falling into step on Liora's other side.
He didn't ask questions. He didn't push.
He just walked with her, jaw tight, eyes scanning the hall like he expected danger around every corner.
Liora appreciated it more than she could say.
The morning classes passed in a blur. She heard nothing. She absorbed nothing. Her mind kept drifting back to the courtyard, to Kael's cold expression, to the whispered word she couldn't forget. Experiments. Every time she thought of it, her stomach twisted.
By midday, Liora found herself standing in the training arena, staring at a rack of weapons that looked far too sharp for students to be handling.
The arena was a wide, open courtyard surrounded by stone pillars and high walls, the ground covered in packed dirt churned by years of drills and sparring.
The air smelled faintly of sweat, metal, and dust. Students gathered in loose clusters — some stretching, some chatting, some already swinging practice swords with the confidence of people who had done this their whole lives.
Liora felt like she had stepped into the wrong world.
The instructor, a broad?shouldered woman with a scar running from her jaw to her collarbone, paced in front of them with the confidence of someone who had survived more battles than she cared to count. Her voice boomed across the arena, sharp and commanding.
"Dragonriders must know how to fight. Not just from the air. But with your own hands. If your dragon is injured, grounded, or separated from you, you must be able to defend yourself."
Liora swallowed hard. She had never held a sword. Never drawn a bow. Never fought anything in her life. She felt eyes on her — too many eyes. Whispers drifted through the crowd like smoke.
"That's her."
"The one whose dragon went feral."
"Did you hear they almost killed it?"
"Kael had to step in."
"Why would he bother with her?"
"Maybe he felt sorry for her."
"Or maybe she's trouble."
Liora's cheeks burned. She kept her gaze fixed on the ground, wishing she could disappear.
The instructor handed her a wooden practice sword. It was heavier than she expected, the weight pulling her wrist down. She tried to adjust her grip, but it felt wrong and awkward, like she was holding it backwards.
"Feet apart," the instructor said, adjusting Liora's stance with a firm shove. "Shoulders relaxed. No — not that much. Gods, girl, have you never held a weapon?"
"No," Liora whispered.
The instructor sighed, rubbing her temples.
"Then today will be... educational."
The class began, and Liora struggled immediately. Her first swing was too slow. Her second was too fast. Her third nearly hit the ground. Her fourth almost hit Mira. Students snickered.
"Careful, she's dangerous."
"Maybe she'll attack us next."
"Someone keep her away from sharp objects."
Liora's stomach twisted. Her arms ached. Her wrists burned. Her shoulders screamed. Sweat dripped down her back, soaking her shirt. She tried to focus, tried to mimic Mira's movements, but her body refused to cooperate.
Mira stayed close, offering gentle corrections.
"Lift your elbow. No — not that high. Keep your wrist straight. Liora, breathe."
Aiden tried too, demonstrating the movements slowly.
"Like this. See? It's all about balance. You're leaning too far forward. No — now you're leaning too far back."
Liora wanted to scream.
The instructor watched her with a mixture of pity and exasperation.
"You're not hopeless," she said finally. "Just... untrained."
Liora wasn't sure that was better.
Across the arena, Seris stood with a group of girls, all of them watching Liora with thinly veiled amusement. Seris whispered something, and the girls burst into laughter. Liora didn't need to hear the words to know they were about her.
She swung again — too wide — and stumbled forward, nearly falling. More laughter.
"Gods, she's useless."
"How did she even pass the Trials?"
"Maybe her dragon did everything for her."
"Maybe Kael felt bad for her."
"Maybe she's his charity case."
Liora's throat tightened. She blinked hard, trying to keep her vision clear.
The instructor clapped her hands.
"Archery next. Line up."
Liora's stomach dropped. She had never touched a bow. The instructor handed her one — a simple training bow, lighter than a real one but still unfamiliar. The string felt too tight. The grip felt too smooth. The arrow felt too fragile in her shaking fingers.
"Feet apart," the instructor said again. "Anchor point at the cheek. No — the other cheek. Gods, girl, are you left?handed or right?handed?"
"I... I don't know," Liora whispered.
The instructor stared at her.
"How do you not know?"
"I've never done this before."
The instructor exhaled slowly, as if counting to ten.
"Fine. Right?handed. Try again."
Liora lifted the bow. Her arms trembled. The string cut into her fingers. She pulled back — too far — and the arrow slipped, clattering to the ground. More laughter.
Seris's voice carried across the arena.
"Careful! She might shoot someone by accident."
Liora's cheeks burned. Her eyes stung. She tried again. And again. And again. She missed every shot. Some arrows didn't even reach the target. Some veered wildly to the side. One hit the dirt so close to her foot that the instructor flinched.
"Stop," the instructor said finally, rubbing her forehead. "Just... stop before you injure yourself."
Liora lowered the bow, her hands shaking so badly she nearly dropped it.
"You need private lessons," the instructor said. "Or a miracle."
Liora nodded numbly.
As the class ended, students gathered their things, still whispering.
"She's hopeless."
"She's going to get someone killed."
"No wonder her dragon freaked out."
"She shouldn't be here."
"She's going to get expelled."
Seris walked past her, smiling sweetly.
"Rough day? Don't worry. Maybe the Academy will take pity on you and send you home before you hurt someone."
Liora didn't respond. She couldn't. Her throat felt too tight. She stepped out of the arena, her body aching, her pride shattered.
And that was when she saw him.
Kael.
Standing in the shadows near the exit, watching her. His expression was unreadable, his posture relaxed, his eyes cold. He didn't approach. He didn't speak. He didn't acknowledge her. He simply turned and walked away.
And Liora felt the same chill she had felt the day before — the same pull, the same fear, the same confusion.
By the time she reached the dorms again, the sun was low, casting long shadows across the courtyard.
Ashwing rushed to her the moment she stepped outside the barrier, pressing his snout against her stomach and rumbling anxiously.
He curled around her immediately, wings folding tight, tail wrapping around her legs like he feared she might vanish.
Liora sank to her knees beside him and buried her face in his warm scales.
"I'm okay," she whispered, though she wasn't sure she believed it.
Ashwing pressed closer, his breath warm against her cheek, his body a solid wall of comfort and protection. He didn't understand everything — but he understood her. Her fear. Her exhaustion. Her hurt. He stayed like that, wrapped around her, shielding her from the world.
Liora didn't cry. She didn't break. She just sat there, breathing slowly, letting the quiet settle around her like a blanket. For the first time since the courtyard, she felt something close to safety. Not because the Academy was safe. Not because she was safe. But because Ashwing was here.
And for now, that was enough.