Chapter seventeen- Unanswered questions
Ashwing was exhausted. Liora could feel it in the way his wings drooped, in the sluggish drag of his tail, in the soft, low rumble he made when she stroked the ridge of scales between his eyes.
Threadline Maneuvers had drained him—drained both of them—and she hated that she had been the reason he struggled.
He had tried so hard to compensate for her mistakes, adjusting his flight, shifting his weight, slowing his turns so she wouldn't fall. He shouldn't have had to.
She pressed her forehead against his snout, breathing in the warm, smoky scent of him. He nudged her gently, as if sensing her guilt, as if telling her he didn't blame her. His scales were warm beneath her palms, grounding her in a way nothing else could.
"I'll be right back," she whispered. "Just a minute."
Ashwing rumbled, reluctant but obedient. He curled himself against the outer wall of the dormitory, wings tucked tight, eyes half?closed but alert. He wouldn't sleep until she returned. He never did.
Liora stepped away, rubbing her arms against the chill of the evening air.
The sun had dipped low, leaving the sky streaked with violet and gold.
The Academy grounds were quieter now, the chaos of training fading into murmurs and footsteps and the occasional roar of a dragon settling down for the night.
She turned the corner—and froze.
Kael was waiting for her. He stood in the narrow walkway between the dorms and the training fields, half in shadow, arms crossed, posture rigid. He wasn't leaning casually. He wasn't pretending to be passing by. He wasn't pretending this was coincidence. He was waiting. For her.
Liora's pulse stumbled. Her first instinct was to turn around and go back to Ashwing, but her feet stayed rooted to the ground. Something in Kael's stillness held her there—not a threat, not a pull, but a gravity she didn't understand. The air felt different around him. Thicker. Heavier. Charged.
"You're late," Kael said.
His voice was quiet, but it carried. It always did. It was the kind of voice that didn't need volume to command attention—it simply existed, and everything else bent around it.
Liora blinked, thrown. "For what?"
"For this conversation."
He pushed off the wall and stepped toward her. Not close enough to touch her—Kael never invaded space without purpose—but close enough that she felt the weight of him, the intensity of his presence pressing against her skin like cold air.
"You need help," he said.
Liora stiffened. "I didn't ask for any."
"You need it anyway."
His tone was flat, emotionless, but the words hit like a blade. He wasn't mocking her. He wasn't pitying her. He was stating a fact.
"You're falling behind in every class," Kael continued. "Your dragon compensates for you. Your timing is off. Your balance is worse." He paused, eyes narrowing slightly. "And you don't know how to hold a sword or an arrow."
Heat crawled up Liora's neck. She crossed her arms, trying to hide the sting. She knew she wasn't good—she didn't need him to list every flaw like he was reading from a report.
"You don't have to list everything."
"I do," Kael said. "Because you're pretending you don't see it."
Liora swallowed hard. Her throat felt tight, her chest tighter. She hated how easily he saw through her. She hated how calm he sounded, how unbothered, how certain. She hated that he was right.
"And what?" she asked, voice sharper than she intended. "You're here to mock me too?"
"No." He said it without hesitation. "I'm here to fix it."
Liora stared at him, stunned. The words didn't make sense. Kael didn't help people. Kael didn't offer anything without a reason. Kael didn't—
"Why?" she demanded. "Why do you care if I fail?"
Kael didn't blink. "Because you will fail without intervention."
"That's not an answer."
"It's the only one you're getting."
Liora stepped closer before she realized she was moving. Anger burned through her exhaustion, through her fear, through the confusion that had been twisting in her stomach since the moment she overheard him.
"Why do you want to help me?" she asked. "What do you get out of this? Because I know what I heard."
Kael's expression didn't change—but something in the air did. A shift. A tightening. The space between them felt charged, like the moment before lightning strikes.
Liora pushed anyway. "I heard you," she said, voice trembling with anger. "I heard you talk with the examiners about the experiments."
Kael's jaw tightened—barely, but enough.
Liora's breath shook. "You didn't save Ashwing out of kindness," she said. "You didn't really save us. You have plans. Experiments. And I don't know what that means, or what you want, or why you're suddenly offering to help me."
Kael's eyes darkened, but not with anger. With something colder.
"If I wanted to experiment on him," he said quietly, "I would have done it already."
The words hit her like a physical blow. Not because they were threatening—they weren't. His tone was too steady, too controlled, too clinical for that. He wasn't trying to scare her. He wasn't trying to reassure her either. He was stating a fact.
Liora's breath caught. Her heart hammered against her ribs, too fast, too loud. She didn't know whether to step back or step closer.
Kael stepped toward her—not threatening, not gentle, simply inevitable. "I'm offering you help," he said. "Not explanations. Not comfort. Not reassurance." His gaze locked onto hers, unblinking. "Either you accept it... or you fail."
Liora's heart pounded, her throat tight. She hated that he was right. She hated that she needed help. She hated that it was him offering it. But she hated failing more.
"And if I say yes... what happens then?" she asked.
"Then you show up tomorrow at dawn," Kael said.
"And if I say no?"
Kael stepped back, the distance between them suddenly colder. "Then you keep falling," he said. "And no one will stop you."
He turned to leave.
"Kael," Liora said.
He paused.
"I'm not agreeing yet."
"I know." He didn't look back. "But you will."
Then he walked away, leaving her standing alone in the fading light, heart racing, breath unsteady, the weight of his ultimatum pressing down on her like a hand around her ribs.
Liora stood there long after Kael disappeared into the shadows, her breath uneven, her pulse refusing to settle.
The walkway felt colder without him in it, as if he had taken the air with him.
She pressed a hand to her chest, trying to steady the frantic rhythm beneath her ribs.
She hated that he affected her like this.
She hated that she didn't understand why.
A soft, distant rumble pulled her back. Ashwing. He must have sensed her distress.
Liora forced her legs to move, each step heavier than the last. The sky had darkened fully now, the last streaks of gold fading into deep blue. Lanterns flickered along the pathways, casting long shadows that swayed with the wind.
Ashwing lifted his head the moment she came into view. His pupils narrowed, wings twitching as he sniffed the air around her. He nudged her shoulder, a low growl vibrating through his chest.
"I'm okay," she whispered, though her voice cracked on the last word.
Ashwing didn't believe her. He pressed closer, curling his tail around her legs protectively. His warmth seeped into her bones, grounding her in a way nothing else could. But even his presence couldn't quiet the storm inside her.
Kael's words echoed in her mind. If I wanted to experiment on him, I would have done it already. Cold. Factual. Unshakably certain. She didn't know whether to be relieved or terrified.
Ashwing nudged her again, harder this time, as if urging her to speak. Liora sank down beside him, leaning against his warm scales. The exhaustion of the day—the drills, the humiliation, the fear, the confrontation—crashed over her all at once.
"I don't know what to do," she whispered.
Ashwing's tail tightened around her.
"I don't know if I can trust him. I don't know if I should."
Ashwing huffed, a puff of warm air brushing her cheek.
Liora closed her eyes. Kael had offered help. Kael had also authorized experiments. Kael had saved Ashwing. Kael had also agreed to experiment on him. Nothing made sense.
She stayed there for a long time, curled against Ashwing's side, letting the warmth of his body soften the ache in her chest. Eventually, the cold night air forced her to move. She stood, brushing dirt from her borrowed uniform.
"Come on," she murmured. "Let's get inside."
Ashwing rose reluctantly, stretching his wings before following her to the dormitory entrance. He stopped at the threshold—he couldn't enter—and lowered his head so she could touch him one last time.
"I'll be okay," she said, though she wasn't sure she believed it.
Ashwing rumbled, unconvinced.
Liora slipped inside. The hallway was dim and quiet, the torches burning low. Most students were already in their rooms, exhausted from the day's training. Liora walked slowly, her boots echoing softly against the stone floor.
She reached her door—and stopped.
Someone was leaning against the wall beside it. Aiden.
He straightened when he saw her, his expression shifting from casual to concerned in an instant. "There you are," he said. "I was starting to think you fell into a ditch."
Liora tried to smile, but it came out thin. "Just needed some air."
Aiden studied her face, his brow furrowing. "You look... shaken."
"I'm fine."
"You're not."
Liora sighed, leaning back against the door. She didn't want to talk about Kael. She didn't want to talk about experiments. She didn't want to talk about anything.
Aiden stepped closer, lowering his voice. "Did someone say something? Was it Seris? Because if she—"
"It wasn't Seris."
Aiden paused. "Then who?"
Liora hesitated. She shouldn't tell him. She couldn't tell him. Not about the experiments. Not about Kael. Not about the offer.
"It doesn't matter," she said quietly.
Aiden's jaw tightened. "It matters to me."
Liora looked away. She didn't want to see the worry in his eyes. She didn't want to see the softness there—the softness she didn't deserve.
Aiden exhaled slowly. "Liora... you don't have to do any of this alone."
She swallowed hard. "I know."
But she didn't. Not really.
Aiden hesitated, then reached out and gently touched her arm. "If you need help—real help—you can come to me. Not just for training. For anything."
Liora's chest tightened. "I know," she whispered again.
Aiden stepped back, giving her space. "Get some rest," he said softly. "Tomorrow's going to be brutal."
Liora nodded. He lingered for a moment longer, as if wanting to say something else, then turned and walked down the hall.
Liora slipped into her room and closed the door behind her.
The silence pressed in immediately. She leaned against the door, letting her head fall back, eyes closed.
Her mind replayed the day in fragments—Vale's criticism, Seris's smirk, Ashwing's growl, Kael's voice, Aiden's concern. Too much. All of it too much.
She pushed herself away from the door and sank onto her bed. The mattress creaked under her weight. She stared at the ceiling, the faint glow of moonlight casting pale patterns across the stone.
Kael's words echoed again. Either you accept it... or you fail.
She hated him for saying it. She hated herself for knowing he was right. She needed help. She needed training. She needed someone who wouldn't go easy on her. And Kael... Kael didn't go easy on anyone.
Liora rolled onto her side, pulling the thin blanket over her. Her body ached, her muscles sore, her mind exhausted.
Tomorrow at dawn.
She didn't know if she would go. She didn't know if she could. But as she drifted toward sleep, one thought lingered, heavy and inescapable:
Kael had been waiting for her.
And she didn't know what that meant.