Chapter thirty six - What we owe to others
The morning of the examinations arrived with a tension that seemed to seep into the very stones of the Academy.
Liora woke before the bells, her heart already pounding, her mind racing through everything she had studied.
She sat up slowly, letting the quiet of the early hour settle around her.
Mira was still asleep, curled beneath her blankets, her braid sprawled across the pillow like a dark ribbon.
Liora watched her for a moment, grateful for the calm before the storm and for the friend who had spent countless dayshours tutoring her until her head ached.
She knew she wouldn't have made it this far without Mira's patience and relentless determination to see her succeed.
She dressed quickly, pulling on her uniform and tying her hair back with trembling fingers.
When she stepped outside, the air was crisp and cool, carrying the faint scent of morning dew.
Ashwing waited in the courtyard, his massive form coiled near the outer wall.
He couldn't come inside, but he always positioned himself where he could see her leave.
When she approached, he lowered his head, rumbling softly, the sound deep enough to vibrate through her chest. She rested her hand against his warm scales and whispered reassurance she didn't fully feel.
Ashwing blinked slowly, unimpressed, and she managed a faint smile before turning toward the examination hall.
The first bell rang, echoing across the Academy grounds as students poured out of the dormitories.
Some looked pale with nerves, others muttered last?minute facts under their breath, and a few walked with the kind of confidence Liora wished she had.
Mira hurried toward her, hair hastily braided, ink smudged on her fingers, and Liora felt a wave of relief at the sight of her.
They walked together toward the hall, Mira teasing her about history and Liora thanking her sincerely, because she meant it.
Mira had been her anchor through every written subject, and Liora knew she wouldn't be standing here without her.
"There you are," Mira said. "I thought you left without me."
"I couldn't," Liora replied. "You're the reason I'm even prepared."
"Well, someone had to make sure you didn't fail the exams."
"Thank you. Really."
Inside, the examination hall stretched out in long rows of desks, each spaced precisely apart.
Professors stood at the front, their expressions stern, their robes immaculate.
The air smelled of parchment, ink, and fear.
Liora took her seat and glanced around the room, searching for familiar faces.
Aiden sat near the front with the other second?years, his posture straight, his expression unreadable.
He looked exhausted in a way that went beyond lack of sleep, as if the weight of his family name and the expectations placed on him had settled heavily on his shoulders.
Selene sat beside him, perfect as always, whispering something that made him smile faintly.
Liora looked away before the ache in her chest could deepen.
Kael sat a few rows behind them, his face carved from stone, his gaze fixed forward.
He didn't look at anyone, didn't acknowledge anyone, yet his presence filled the room with a quiet intensity that made the air feel sharper.
Liora felt her chest tighten at the sight of him.
He was leaving after this year. This was his last set of examinations.
Soon he would be gone, stepping into a world she couldn't follow.
She forced her eyes back to her desk, trying to steady her breathing.
When the second bell rang, its sharp chime sliced through the hall like a blade. The sound settled over her like a weight, pressing her into the moment she could no longer delay. The examinations had begun, and there was no turning back.
The hours that followed blurred into a haze of ink and parchment.
Liora wrote until her hand cramped, until her fingers ached, until her mind felt like it was unraveling.
Every time she hesitated, she remembered Mira's voice explaining concepts she hadn't understood, remembered the nights spent reviewing notes, remembered the whispered encouragements that had kept her from giving up.
She owed Mira more than she could ever say.
She also owed Aiden, even if things between them were complicated now.
He had helped her before the trials, before she even entered the Academy.
Without him, she might never have made it here at all.
When the final bell rang, signaling the end of the morning examinations, Liora stepped outside into the sunlight, blinking against the brightness. Mira found her immediately, her expression bright with hope and relief.
"How did it go?" Mira asked.
"I think... good," Liora said.
"See? I told you."
"Thank you. I couldn't have done it without you."
"You did the work," Mira replied. "I just shoved the knowledge into your skull."
But the relief was short?lived, because the afternoon trials were waiting.
Combat. Archery. Swordsmanship. And tomorrow — dragon flight.
The thought made her stomach twist. Kael's voice echoed in her mind, every command, every correction, every moment he had pushed her past her limits.
She knew she owed him too, but she also knew she could never say it.
He had been clear: no speaking in public, no acknowledgment, no hint that he had trained her.
It was too dangerous. Too suspicious. Too easy for the wrong people to notice.
The combat arena buzzed with energy as students gathered for the afternoon trials.
The sun hung high overhead, casting sharp shadows across the sand.
Liora stood among the first?years, her pulse quickening as she watched the instructors prepare the field.
Aiden stood with the second group, his posture rigid, his jaw tight.
He looked pale, shadows under his eyes, and Liora wondered if his dragon was still feeling the effects of the injection and that kept him at night or if the pressure of his final year was crushing him.
Selene hovered near him, touching his arm lightly, and he forced a smile that didn't reach his eyes.
Kael stood alone, arms crossed, gaze distant, as if he were already thinking beyond the Academy walls.
He didn't speak to anyone, didn't acknowledge anyone, but when Liora stepped into the arena, she felt his gaze flick toward her for the briefest moment before he looked away again.
The tiny shift was enough to send her heart stumbling.
Mira nudged her gently, trying to lighten the tension.
"Ready?" Mira asked.
"No," Liora admitted.
"At least you're consistent."
The instructors called the first group forward.
Liora stepped into the arena, gripping the practice sword tightly.
The metal felt familiar in her hands, almost comforting.
She could almost feel Kael behind her, adjusting her stance, correcting her grip, pushing her harder than anyone else ever had.
When the trial began, she moved instinctively.
She blocked, dodged, and struck with a precision that surprised even her.
Every motion felt natural, fluid, and controlled.
She heard the instructors murmuring, heard the whispers from the stands, and felt a surge of confidence she hadn't expected.
When the combat portion ended, she was breathless but exhilarated. Mira ran to her, praising her performance, and Liora felt warmth bloom in her chest.
"Liora! That was incredible!" Mira exclaimed.
"I just... did what I practiced," Liora said.
"You did what Kael drilled into your bones," Mira replied. "And it worked."
Liora wished she could thank him, wished she could tell him that everything he had taught her had mattered, but she couldn't. Not here. Not now.
Archery came next, and Liora found herself slipping into the same focused calm Kael had drilled into her.
She hit the center of the target again and again, each arrow landing with a satisfying thud.
Swordsmanship followed, and she moved through the forms with precision, her body remembering every correction Kael had made.
By the end of the trials, she felt something she hadn't felt in a long time: pride.
Real, solid pride. She had earned this. She had fought for this. She had survived this.
The next morning arrived too quickly. The second round of written examinations was harder than the first, but Liora pushed through, fueled by determination and Mira's endless support.
When she stepped outside afterward, Mira hugged her tightly, insisting she had done well.
Liora thanked her again, knowing she meant every word.
"You did it," Mira said. "I know you did."
"I hope so," Liora replied.
"You did," Mira insisted. "I can tell."
"Thank you," Liora whispered. "For everything."
The dragon flight evaluations were held in the open fields beyond the Academy walls.
The sky was clear, the wind strong, perfect conditions for flying.
Ashwing stood tall and proud, his wings unfurling in a magnificent sweep that cast a shadow across the grass.
Liora approached him, her heart pounding with a mixture of excitement and fear.
She placed a hand on his scales, feeling the warmth beneath her palm, and whispered that she was ready.
Ashwing lowered himself so she could climb onto his back.
The instructors watched closely as she mounted, gripping the saddle tightly.
When the signal was given, Ashwing leapt into the sky.
The world fell away beneath them, the ground shrinking into a patchwork of green and gold.
The wind roared in her ears, her heart soaring with every beat of Ashwing's wings.
She guided him through the course with confidence she hadn't known she possessed, every maneuver echoing the lessons Kael had drilled into her.
When they landed, the instructors were speechless. Mira ran to her, praising her performance, and Liora felt a rush of disbelief and joy.
"Liora! That was— I don't even have words!" Mira said.
"I can't believe it," Liora breathed.
"You were amazing," Mira insisted. "You passed. I know you did."
Liora looked at Ashwing, who nudged her shoulder gently, and whispered her gratitude. Mira added softly that Kael deserved thanks too, and Liora felt her throat tighten.
"I couldn't have done it without him," Liora said quietly.
"And without Kael," Mira added.
Liora wanted to thank him. She wanted to tell him everything.
She wanted him to know that she had made it because of him — because he had believed in her, pushed her, seen something in her no one else had.
But she couldn't. He had told her not to speak to him in public.
He had told her no one could know. He had told her to stay away.
So she stayed silent, holding her gratitude like a secret pressed tightly against her heart.
She owed Aiden for helping her reach the Academy. She owed Mira for helping her survive it. She owed Kael for shaping her into someone who could stand here now. But only two of them could ever hear her thanks. The third would never know.
The field was still buzzing with excitement from the dragon flight evaluations when Liora finally spotted Aiden standing alone near the edge of the training grounds.
The other second?years had drifted off in groups, laughing and comparing scores, but Aiden remained apart from them, his posture rigid, his expression unreadable.
His dragon was nowhere in sight, and without it, he looked strangely smaller, as if the weight he carried had finally begun to show.
Liora hesitated, unsure whether she should approach him.
Things between them had been complicated lately — tangled with misunderstandings, distance, and the unspoken tension created by Selene's presence.
But beneath all of that, beneath the awkwardness and the shifting dynamics, there was something older and truer.
Aiden had been there at the beginning when no one else was.
She owed him this.
She walked toward him slowly, her heart thudding in her chest. Aiden noticed her when she was only a few steps away, his eyes widening slightly in surprise. For a moment, neither of them spoke. The wind tugged at his hair, and the sunlight caught the faint exhaustion in his face.
"Aiden," she said softly. "Can I talk to you?"
He straightened, his expression shifting into something guarded but attentive.
"Of course," he replied. "What's wrong?"
Liora shook her head. "Nothing's wrong. I just... I wanted to thank you."
Aiden blinked, clearly not expecting that. "Thank me? For what?"
She looked down at her hands for a moment, gathering the courage to say what she had held inside for months. When she finally lifted her gaze, her voice was steadier than she felt.
"For everything," she said. "For helping me before the Trial. For believing in me when you didn't even know me. For sitting with me on my first day here when everyone else looked at me like I didn't belong."
Aiden's expression softened, the tension in his shoulders easing just a little.
Liora continued, her voice quiet but sincere. "You were my first friend here. And part of the reason I passed the Trial — part of the reason I even made it into the Academy — is because of you. I'm grateful. Truly."
Aiden looked at her for a long moment, something unreadable flickering in his eyes. Then he exhaled slowly, as if releasing a breath he had been holding for far too long.
"Liora," he said, his voice low, "you don't owe me anything. I helped you because I wanted to. Because I saw someone who deserved a chance."
She felt her throat tighten. "You gave me one."
Aiden's gaze softened even further, and for the first time in weeks, he smiled — not the polite, strained smile he gave Selene or the nobles, but the warm, genuine one she remembered from the beginning.
"I'm glad you made it," he said. "I'm glad you proved everyone wrong."
Liora felt warmth bloom in her chest, a quiet, steady warmth that eased some of the ache she had been carrying. She nodded, unable to keep the small smile from her lips.
"Thank you," she whispered again.
Aiden hesitated, then spoke more quietly.
"And... for what it's worth, I'm proud of you."
The words hit her harder than she expected. She swallowed, blinking back the sudden sting in her eyes.
"That means a lot," she said. "More than you know."
For a moment, they simply stood there — two students on the edge of everything changing, bound by a shared past neither of them had fully acknowledged until now. Then Aiden straightened, the familiar determination returning to his expression.
"Go celebrate with Mira," he said gently. "You earned it."
Liora nodded, stepping back. "I'll see you at the results."
Aiden gave a small nod in return. "You will."
As she walked away, she felt lighter — not because the exams were over, but because she had finally said the words she had carried for so long. Gratitude. Recognition. Closure.
Aiden had been her beginning.
And now, finally, he knew it.
As Liora walked back toward the dorms, the weight of the past two days settled over her like a cloak she wasn't sure she could carry.
The exams were over, the trials were done, and the results would come soon enough, but her mind refused to rest. Every step she took seemed to pull her deeper into the tangle of everything waiting just beyond the horizon — the dance, the graduation, the choices that would shape the future of the kingdom, and the people she cared about caught in the center of it all.
She tried to focus on the simple things first, the things she could understand.
The dance was only days away, and Mira was already buzzing with excitement, planning dresses and hairstyles and who would walk in with whom.
Liora wished she could feel even a fraction of that joy, but the thought of the dance made her chest tighten.
She knew she would go — Mira wouldn't let her hide — but she also knew she would spend the entire night pretending she wasn't looking for Kael in every shadowed corner.
She wished she could stop wanting something she knew she could never have.
She wished she could stop imagining what it would feel like if he asked her, even though she knew he wouldn't. He didn't go to dances.
He didn't belong to that world. And he certainly didn't belong to her.
But the dance was only the surface of her worries.
Beneath it lay something far heavier, something that made her stomach twist every time she let herself think about it.
Kael was preparing to challenge his uncle for the throne.
He had said it so simply, so coldly, as if it were just another task to complete, but Liora knew the truth.
It was dangerous. It was deadly. It was a battle that could tear the kingdom apart.
She had seen the King's ambition, the cruelty, the hunger for control.
She had seen what the experiments had done to Erevos.
She had seen what the injections were doing to Aiden's dragon.
If the King was willing to do that, what would he do to Kael – to someone who challenge him?
The thought made her breath catch. She didn't want to imagine Kael standing alone against that man, the man who would rather break him than lose power. She didn't want to imagine Kael hurt, or worse. She didn't want to imagine a world where he didn't come back.
And then there was Aiden.
Liora slowed her steps, her thoughts tightening around him like a knot she couldn't untangle.
Aiden had been her first friend here. He had helped her when no one else would.
He had believed in her before she believed in herself.
But the boy she had thanked today — the boy who smiled at her with warmth and pride — was not the same boy who had stood in the courtyard with Selene, desperate to prove himself.
He was not the same boy who had asked for the injection, who had looked at her with ambition burning behind his eyes.
Aiden wanted the throne too.
And if Kael challenged the King... would Aiden challenge Kael?
The idea made her stomach twist painfully.
She didn't want them to fight. She didn't want to see either of them hurt.
She didn't want to imagine Aiden standing against Kael, or Kael forced to defend himself against him.
She didn't want to imagine choosing between them — not in loyalty, not in fear, not in grief.
She didn't want to imagine losing either of them.
The path ahead felt like a storm gathering on the horizon, dark and inevitable.
The dance, the graduation, the throne — everything was shifting, everything was changing, and she was standing in the middle of it with no power to stop any of it.
She had survived her first year. She had passed her trials.
She had proven herself. But none of that mattered when the people she cared about were walking toward danger she couldn't protect them from.oi
As she reached the dormitory steps, she paused and looked back toward the training fields, where the sky was beginning to darken with the first hints of evening.
Somewhere out there, Kael was preparing for a future that might destroy him.
Somewhere out there, Aiden was wrestling with ambition that might consume him.
And somewhere in between, she stood — wanting to help, wanting to speak, wanting to reach out — but bound by silence, by secrets, by the fragile threads of loyalty she didn't fully understand.