Chapter 12.
"Well, hello there."
Aeliana crossed her arms as the dragon landed in a thunder of wings and churned earth, wind tugging at her sleeves as the beast's bulk settled into the grass.
The rider swung down with practiced ease, boots thudding against the ground, and straightened.
Garrick.
He pushed his wind-swept hair out of his face and arched a brow at her.
"What?" she asked, shifting her weight slightly.
"I've done a few passes through the valley," he said, brushing dirt from the edge of his leathers. "Saw a handful of cadets sobbing. A few cursing the sky. One trying to wrestle a branch like it was the reason he didn't bond."
Aeliana snorted.
Garrick's brow lifted a little higher. "But not one—" he gestured to her loosely, "—not one sitting around like she's on a stroll through the gardens."
She shrugged. "I didn't feel any connection during Presentation. Not even a flicker. So I wasn't exactly expecting fireworks today."
His expression shifted—just a flicker. Not quite surprise. Something more like... approval.
"You're not foolish, then."
"No," she said. "Just tired."
He nodded, then tipped his head back toward the open field. "Come on. I'll take you back."
She hesitated. "And how exactly are you planning on doing that?"
Garrick turned as if it were obvious and gave a low whistle.
The dragon behind him—sleek, brown-hued, with streaks of pale silver along his wings—lifted his head and gave a short, dismissive snort. The sound rumbled through the ground like thunder before a storm.
"Even though you didn't bond today," Garrick said, smirking over his shoulder, "you'll still fly."
Aeliana arched a brow. "I don't know if that's a good idea."
He narrowed his eyes, amused. "Because of the dragons turning away from you?"
Her eyes narrowed in return. "Did you follow me around?"
He shrugged with an unapologetic smile. "You stood out. Hard not to notice when every dragon takes one look and pivots in the opposite direction."
She sighed. "I didn't even get to try the things Kaori taught us. The moment I approached, they'd tilt their heads, blink at me like I was some puzzle they couldn't solve, and leave."
"I saw." He turned back toward his dragon and placed a palm to the thick muscle of his leg, just behind the front talon. "But those were unbonded. Chradh's a little more... forgiving."
Chradh gave a low huff again, but didn't move.
Aeliana stepped closer, cautiously.
"You're sure he doesn't mind?" she asked, gaze fixed on the dragon's piercing eyes. "I'd rather not fall mid-flight."
Garrick gave a low laugh. "If he minded, you'd already know."
Still, she approached slowly. The dragon's head lowered—just a fraction—and she met his gaze without flinching. There was curiosity in those eyes, not contempt. No turning away this time.
"Hi," she murmured. "We're not doing anything crazy, just a quick lift back. Okay?"
Chradh sniffed once, breath hot across her face.
Then, with a slow blink, he turned his head and looked away.
"See?" Garrick said, already mounting. "He doesn't mind."
Aeliana hesitated just long enough for her pride to catch up, then stepped to the dragon's side and climbed up behind him. Garrick reached back, offering his forearm for balance as she settled into place.
"Hold tight," he said, voice steady.
Her hands gripped him tightly.
With a powerful leap, Chradh launched skyward.
The world dropped away.
Aeliana's breath caught as wind roared past her ears and the trees shrank below. The rush of air, the tilt of wings—it was like flying on the edge of a blade, exhilarating and dangerous all at once. She hadn't realized how much she'd missed it until now.
They soared over the valley, passing a few last stragglers. Some cadets still wandered below, but most had already returned to the main field. She could see the lines forming near the roll-call tents, dragons resting or circling lazily overhead.
As they banked low toward the field, the wind caught Garrick's hair and her own, sending it streaming behind them. He guided Chradh with the same effortless precision he always seemed to carry—whether in battle brief, sparring, or flight.
They landed near the perimeter of the clearing where the bonded dragons gathered, feet hitting the ground with a soft thud. Aeliana swung down after him, boots steady, breath slower now.
Chradh huffed, a short exhale that stirred her hair.
Aeliana turned to face him fully.
He was watching her. Not with expectation, not with suspicion—just... watching.
She stepped forward a pace, placed her palm briefly over her heart, and bowed her head.
"Thank you," she said quietly. "For the ride."
Chradh didn't answer, but the tip of his tail curled slightly. A single, thoughtful flick.
Then he turned, moving toward the ring of dragons with the quiet dignity only something that ancient could carry.
"Thanks, Garrick," she said, glancing over her shoulder.
He raised a brow. "For what?"
"For the ride. And for not saying anything stupid." She gave him a dry smile. "That must've taken some restraint."
His mouth curved just slightly. "More than you know."
She turned to leave, lifting her hand in a half-salute. "I'll leave you to your section duties, then."
He returned the gesture with a subtle nod and the smallest hint of a smirk. "See you around, Sorynne."
Then he turned and strode off in the direction of the command tents—likely to report to Xaden, his usual unreadable expression already settling back in place.
Aeliana exhaled and turned toward the huddle of first-years near the roll-call line, scanning the crowd.
Her heart lifted when she spotted familiar broad shoulders and wind-ruffled blond hair.
Liam.
He stood beside a dragon—red, regal, with scales that shimmered like embers and wings tucked neatly to its sides. The Red Daggertail. The one he'd felt drawn to.
Aeliana walked toward him, weaving between cadets still riding high on post-bonding adrenaline or else shuffling with bruised egos and bandaged limbs.
When Liam saw her, his face lit up, and he strode the last few feet to meet her. Without thinking, he pulled her into a hug—quick, fierce, and grateful.
"I did it, Aelia," he said into her hair, pulling back with a grin that made his eyes crinkle.
She smiled back, gaze flicking to the dragon behind him. "I see."
"His name's Deigh." There was pride in his voice, but it was softened with awe. "He's everything I hoped for."
Aeliana's heart twisted—but not with jealousy. Just a quiet pang. She nodded. "I'm happy for you."
Liam hesitated, eyes searching hers. "And you...?"
She shrugged. "Didn't bond. Even though I ran into plenty of dragons."
His mouth opened slightly, as if to ask more, but she cut him off with a half-smile. "Guess you were right about not feeling a connection. Still true."
He frowned, and that pitying look started to settle across his features.
Aeliana rolled her eyes and shoved his shoulder lightly. "Stop looking at me like that, Liam. I'll just try again next year. There's no shame in that. My time will come."
"I know," he said. "But it means we won't get to fly our dragons together."
She smirked. "Don't worry. You're not getting rid of me that easily. I'll still see you in class. And I can still beat your ass on the mat."
He laughed, the sound cutting through the heaviness around them. "That you can."
The sky above them shifted suddenly—an odd gust, then a low thunder of wings.
The dragons on the field stirred, some ruffling their wings, others turning their heads toward a signal only they seemed to hear.
"Meeting time?" Aeliana asked, watching the ripple of movement sweep through the bonded dragons.
"Looks like it." Liam turned back to Deigh, who was already raising his head.
She looked around again. "Do you know who else from our squad made it?"
"I saw Reece earlier. Think he bonded a brown. Nyra too, maybe? But I haven't had a chance to really check."
Aeliana nodded. "I'm going to look for the others."
Liam's smile softened. "You're okay, right?"
She met his gaze squarely. "I will be."
The crowd had thinned, dispersing into pockets of reunion and celebration, but Aeliana kept moving, scanning familiar faces for the rest of her squad.
Her boots scraped through the churned-up field, cutting past cadets locked in animated conversation with newly bonded cadets.
The air still crackled faintly with residual magic and the unmistakable scent of sulfur and leather.
"Oi, Sorynne!"
She turned at the sound of her name. Ridoc was jogging toward her, arms waving like she might somehow miss the six-foot rider approaching at full sprint.
She grinned. "Let me guess—you survived your first flight?"
He smirked. "Better than survived. I think I might've scared the dragon more than he scared me."
Aeliana snorted. "Glad he stuck around anyway."
Ridoc tilted his head. "Wait—how'd you know?"
She gave him a look. "I saw the way he was watching you while I wrapped your arm. The curious sort, that one. And considering he didn't bolt the second I looked at him, I figured he was there for you."
"Right. I forgot about that. You really saved my ass out there."
She shrugged, voice light. "You'd have done the same."
He hesitated. "And you? Did you..."
"No bond," she said easily. "Even though I ran into plenty."
Ridoc's expression softened, but she cut it off with a firm smile. "It wasn't my time. I'll try again next year."
Before he could say anything else, movement caught her eye over his shoulder.
Nyra was approaching through the crowd, dirt smudged on her cheek and her braid unraveling at the end. No dragon followed her—just the normal tangle of cadets around them.
"There you are," she called.
"Nyra," Aeliana said, warmth creeping into her tone. "You made it."
"So did you," Nyra replied automatically—then paused, her expression shifting. "Wait. You didn't?"
Aeliana shook her head. "No bond."
"But you walked the entire field."
"I also scared away half the dragons, apparently." She rolled her eyes.
Before Nyra could respond, Reece and Thorne emerged from the press of cadets on the opposite side of the field. Both looked more battered than before but very much alive. Reece nodded in greeting, while Thorne gave her a once-over and muttered, "Didn't expect to see you still standing."
Aeliana offered a dry smile. "Disappointed?"
"Relieved," he admitted. "Would've been boring without you."
Before she could answer, the sky cracked.
Wings thundered across the field as hundreds of dragons returned at once, casting rippling shadows in the dying light. Bonded dragons flew in formation, banking low as they descended in sweeping lines across the field.
The noise was deafening. The air charged with energy.
They were back.
And with them—two figures that silenced the field.
Aeliana's gaze snapped upward.
A massive black dragon sliced through the air like a blade, wings spread impossibly wide, each movement fluid and terrifyingly controlled. Beside it flew a smaller, golden dragon, radiant as flame, her scales catching the fading sun like poured metal.
Her breath caught.
It was them.
The same pair she'd seen from the trees earlier that day. The black one who had caught the falling rider. The golden one who shimmered like memory.
They landed near the dais with thunderous grace, wings furling tight as the earth trembled beneath their weight. Riders and dragons alike turned to look.
But Aeliana only saw the gold one.
There was something... familiar about her. Not in shape or size, but in the light that radiated from her scales. A warmth that tugged at something buried in Aeliana's chest. A glimmer of memory just out of reach.
She stared.
The golden dragon shifted—and then froze.
Her head turned, gaze locking directly onto Aeliana.
Not to the crowd.
To her.
The intensity of it was staggering.
Aeliana stood still, eyes meeting the dragon's.
Then the black one moved.
He turned toward the gold, as if sensing something—then followed her gaze.
Straight to Aeliana.
Their eyes met.
Something sharp passed between them. A recognition Aeliana couldn't explain. The tilt of his head, the narrowing of those massive, amber eyes—he wasn't just observing.
He was remembering.
Only, she didn't know what.
And yet, she didn't look away.
She didn't flinch.
Her heart thudded like a drumbeat in her ears, but her face stayed calm, gaze unwavering.
The black dragon stepped forward slightly, just enough that one talon slid into her view.
Still, she didn't move.
And then—softly, almost without thinking—she smiled.
Not wide. Not deliberate.
Just... present.
Acknowledging.
The dragon's stare sharpened for a beat.
And then the moment broke.
General Sorrengail's voice rang out over the field, clear and commanding, pulling every gaze back toward the dais.
The dragons shifted. The crowd stirred.
The gold one turned back to her rider.
But the black one still watched.
Aeliana turned, stepping into line beside Nyra and the others as the bonded cadets were sorted into new quarters, their dragons waiting.
She glanced back once, just before the crowd swallowed her up.
The gold dragon had looked away.
But the black one hadn't.
He was still staring.
She dipped her head—not a bow, not really. Just a gesture. Measured. Certain.
Then she turned and walked toward the edge of the field. Toward the barracks. Toward the side of the line where no dragons waited.
Not this year.
Not yet.
But something inside her stirred—tight, warm, and waiting.
Not yet.
But soon.
~
The sun had dipped low by the time Aeliana and Liam made it back to the Fourth Wing barracks. The warm haze of twilight spilled across the field, casting long shadows over the trampled grass and ash-dusted stone.
The enery inside the barracks was different.
Quieter. Heavier.
Some of the squads were already inside, slumped on benches or propped up against the stone walls with the kind of hollow-eyed exhaustion that only came after Threshing. Bags had been upended, gear sorted.
Aeliana lingered just inside the entry, her shoulder brushing Liam's as cadets filed in behind them.
A sharp voice cut through the air from the center of the room.
"All unbonded cadets, listen up."
Vessa stood near one of the long stone columns, her stance firm, arms crossed over her chest. The dim lighting made her braid look darker than usual, but her voice carried like a whip.
"This barracks is yours until further notice," she announced. "You'll remain here. You are not to enter the riders' wing unless ordered."
A murmur swept through a few of the cadets, but Vessa ignored it.
"You'll receive your chore assignments after dinner," she added, eyes sweeping over the crowd like a blade. "Do not make me chase you down. Do not try to swap duties without clearance. We are still cadets — bonded or not — and the Quadrant expects discipline."
There was no applause. No cheers.
Just the sound of boots shifting against stone and the occasional hiss of whispered complaints.
"Find a bunk," she finished. "Get some rest."
As Vessa's words faded and cadets began moving, she lifted her voice once more.
"Bonded riders — you'll find the room assignments posted just outside the barracks entrance. First floor, quadrant C. You have ten minutes to grab your things and move."
That was it. No ceremony. No congratulations. Just orders.
Aeliana looked over at Liam. "Well?"
He let out a breath, adjusting the strap on his shoulder. "Guess I need to pack."
She nudged his arm gently. "Come on, then. I'll help."
They wove through the shifting crowd, stepping around slumped shoulders and discarded armor, until they reached the bunk where he'd slept since their first night in Basgiath.
For two months, they had lain beside each other.
The mattress was still a little crooked, half-covered by a wool blanket, and his chest was shoved haphazardly beneath the bed.
"Feels like we were just getting settled," he muttered, crouching down to drag his trunk out from beneath the bunk.
Aeliana grabbed the edge to help him lift it onto the bed. "Feels like you were just threatening to dislocate my shoulder in sparring last week."
Liam chuckled. "I was being gentle. You got a good hit in, if I remember right."
She raised an eyebrow. "You remember wrong. I got three."
"Right," he drawled, rummaging through the chest. "Two were luck, one was illegal."
"Still made you bleed."
Liam flashed her a grin but didn't argue. He opened the trunk and began grabbing what little he had—extra shirts, worn notebooks, a training dagger that was more sentimental than functional. She held out his belt as he folded his uniform.
The silence stretched for a moment, not tense, just... full. Like the air between them had something unsaid resting in it.
"I didn't think it would feel like that," Liam said suddenly, rolling his cloak tight.
"Bonding?" she asked.
He nodded, eyes bright. "It was—gods, Aelia, it was insane."
He laughed, the sound full of disbelief and joy. "He was just there—this massive red brute with smoke curling out of his nose. Didn't growl, didn't breathe fire, just looked at me like I was late."
Aeliana smirked. "Sounds about right."
"I stepped into the clearing, and for a second, I thought maybe he was sizing me up for a snack.
But then I felt it—this pull in my chest, like gravity had shifted.
And when he stepped forward and lowered his head.
.." Liam shook his head, awe overtaking his features.
"It hit like lightning. Burned through every nerve. I swear my heart stopped for a second."
He paused, expression softening. "And then everything went quiet. Like he was in my head, but not intruding. Just... there. Solid. Like an anchor."
Aeliana watched him, lips parted slightly. "You didn't hesitate?"
"Not once." He smiled. "It felt right. Like the piece of me that was missing just—clicked into place."
Then he rolled up the sleeve on his right shoulder, just opposite the arm where his rebellion relic ink curled along his skin.
"Check this out."
Aeliana leaned forward.
Etched into his shoulder was a new mark—deep crimson-black, shaped in the silhouette of a Red Daggertail mid-flight, wings extended, claws bared. It shimmered faintly in the light, as if the magic hadn't fully settled yet.
"He marked you," she said, voice soft.
"Yeah." Liam touched the edge of the relic reverently. "Said it's permanent. Proof that I'm his."
Aeliana nodded slowly. "It suits you."
His grin returned. "Figured I'd show you before Garrick makes me wear full uniform for the next three weeks."
She rolled her eyes and stood. "Let's get this stuff upstairs before he appears like a ghost."
Liam handed her his smaller satchel and slung his pack over one shoulder. "Thanks, by the way. For helping."
"You're lucky I like you," she said, nudging him lightly with her elbow as they started toward the door.
"And here I thought it was my charm."
"Delusion. That's what it is."
Their laughter drifted up with them as they stepped into the corridor, the names posted on the barracks wall just ahead—markers of a new beginning, even if only one of them had earned a dragon's wings.