Page 25

25

Rhea

T oday, we take a different lift to reach the top of the plateau and end up in a much larger section on Sky’s Edge. The expansive area stretches under the untainted azure, vast sky. Below, a gentle breeze whispers across the endless expanse of pastureland, a sea of emerald green that rolls and undulates like a tranquil ocean as far as the eye can see. The air is crisp and clean, carrying the scent of wildflowers and sun-warmed grass. In this place, the world seems to open up, making me forget all my problems.

Once, hundreds of dragons trained here with their new riders. I can just imagine the majestic sight, the grandeur. It’s hard to believe that Embernia was once so powerful and fearless, hard to believe we’ve fallen this low. Will we ever rise again? Or are we doomed to dwindle, to be slowly swallowed up and finally eradicated by the Screechclaws?

The Primes stand in a circle, wrapped up in what looks like a serious discussion. The wind blows across the plateau, making it impossible to hear a word they’re saying.

I search for Silas and find him standing behind me, arms crossed, a scowl on his face. He doesn’t look in my direction.

The rhythmic thump of wings alerts us to our dragons’ arrival. Two crimson dragons—their scales glowing like molten embers, their wings beating with the force of a furnace—land a distance away. The ground trembles with a hum that vibrates through my very bones. Next, the air crackles with energy, and two creatures of vibrant yellow land beside the reds, static electricity pulsing at their back. They are followed by two massive browns, their hides the color of rich, dark soil, their forms thick and heavy, exuding an aura of ancient strength. At their side, a solitary dragon touches down, his scales the deep, sapphire blue of a water elemental. Two more dragons of solid gray land. They’re polished steel, reflecting the light with a cold, hard brilliance. And finally, the air shimmers as the wind elementals appear: Zephyros, Trueno, and Fragor—the latter landing between the other two, as if to ensure they don’t get into another fight.

The plateau is now a kaleidoscope of power, each element represented. I suppose I suffer from a deep bias, but I think Zephyros is the most magnificent of the twelve dragons present—one for each new Skyrider, plus Fragor. Even Zephyros’s scar lends him a mysterious and fierce air that speaks of battles won in the service of Embernia.

—Good Morning, Zephyros , I say into his mind. The greeting comes naturally. I’ve always feared this skill, pretended it didn’t exist, and I now continue to block it with everyone, but with Zephyros it somehow feels… right.

My dragon’s response is an indifferent huff. I peer at him. He looks into the distance with a forlorn expression, a sadness that seems as immense as he is. I can’t even imagine what he has seen during his long life.

Next to me, Phoebe's eyes are round saucers. This is her first time being so close to a real dragon.

I lean in and whisper in her ear, “The one on the far left is yours.”

Her jaw unhinges and falls open. I smile at her awestruck expression, the same one I wore just two nights ago.

Two nights ago…

An image of my first free fall toward the ground appears before me, splashes of red bleeding around the edges of my vision. My smile dies. My chest tightens. My limbs tingle. Clenching my jaw, I take a deep breath to calm my suddenly panicked, racing heart.

In response, Zephyros rumbles deep in his throat. I look up from the ground. His silver eyes meet mine in the distance. Fragor shifts. Vaylen glances at me, a warning and a reproach written on his expression. Damn! It seems everyone is bent on blaming me for everything today.

Thankfully, my vision clears, and I take control of whatever the hells that was, and just in time because the Primes break their conference and face us, the dragons looming behind them.

“Formation,” Vaylen commands in his deep voice. He stands in the center, two Primes to his left and three to his right.

We arrange ourselves in the same elemental pattern, so Phoebe and I end up in the middle. Prime Emberstone is to Vaylen’s left, so Silas and Nate end up to our right. Silas makes sure not to stand next to me, pushing Nate in between as a buffer.

Great! I guess this means he doesn’t want to be my friend anymore, which is ridiculous. I had nothing to do with whatever happened to his brother.

“Skyriders,” Vaylen says, his voice carrying well despite the howl of the wind, “as you already know, your training will be cut short due to events on the front lines. I doubt this seems like a problem to any of you due to your eagerness to ride the clouds on your very own dragons, but I assure you… this expediency isn’t optimal. Training at Sky’s Edge is already accelerated even under normal circumstances. We will work you to the bone and will require everything you can give. Understood?”

“Yes, High Prime,” we respond in unison.

“Before we get started,” he continues, “I want to make you aware of a change. Surely, you have noticed your mate Gilbert Drifttown has been replaced by Phoebe Breezehart.”

Phoebe stiffens, standing straighter.

Vaylen goes on, “I regret to inform you that Skysinger Drifttown passed away the night of Rite of Flight.”

A chorus of gasps goes up.

“There was an unfortunate accident, and everyone regrets the loss of a comrade. An investigation is ongoing, and his family is receiving prompt updates of all relevant information.”

Silas huffs. He gets a dirty glare from his Prime. I brace for Vaylen’s next words, but he doesn’t say anything, and, instead, approaches Phoebe and me. He looks us up and down, inspecting our uniforms. Once satisfied, he turns and walks off.

“Follow me,” he says. “Your training begins right away.”

He guides us to a distant area as the other Primes peel away and do the same with their riders. The dragons break rank too and follow. They walk gingerly, keeping their wings tucked in and their tails stiff. Phoebe nearly trips on her own two feet as she walks with her neck craned in Trueno’s direction.

I don’t miss the fact that the dragons aren’t wearing saddles. I smile to myself, glad we’re jumping right into the exciting part. Not that I haven’t had enough excitement the last couple of days.

“First things first,” Vaylen says. “An agreement. Zephyros, do you admit Skysinger Rhealyn Wyndward as your rider?”

The silver dragon’s molten eyes lock onto mine, the question hanging between us. A low rumble emanates from his massive chest, a sound that resonates deep within my soul. Then, a shift, a subtle change in the air that surrounds us. It’s an acknowledgment, an agreement.

Zephyros nods once.

A frantic sensation rushes through me, and it’s like a dam has broken. Suddenly, I feel a hundred times stronger, my now amplified power singing in my veins. There’s so much energy the very realm seems to vibrate with potential. Goddess! I am no longer just Rhea. I am a storm.

—Thank you, Zephyros.

—It is nothing, he replies, and I’m reminded he wants to bond with me, and this is, indeed, nothing. I only wish I knew when he will create the connection, but it’s something I don’t dare ask.

Vaylen turns to Trueno then. “Do you admit Skysinger Phoebe Breezehart as your rider?”

Trueno nods.

Next to me, Phoebe trembles, receiving the same energy boost as me.

“Good,” Vaylen waits a moment, then continues. “Normally, on the first day, we tackle learning how to communicate with your dragons. We will also start there today, but in addition, we’ll learn how to Tether ourselves.”

“Yes, High Prime,” Phoebe says, standing at attention. Her fingers twitch as if she’s itching to take notes. She was always taking notes at the Academy. I’m surprised she doesn’t have her battered booklet and stubby pencil tucked in somewhere.

—Maybe I should tell him we can entirely skip the communication lesson, I joke to Zephyros.

—Sure, go ahead and get yourself sent to the gallows , he replies.

—It was a joke .

—Ha ha , he replies dryly.

Wyrm’s rot! He has the sense of humor of a rock. I roll my eyes, then notice Vaylen looking at me with a frown. I crack and rub the back of my neck, acting nonchalant.

—Smooth. Very smooth , Zephyros says.

“Is something the matter, Skysinger Wyndward?” Vaylen demands.

“No, Sir.”

“Then pay attention!”

I bite my tongue when I notice Phoebe’s incredulous expression. She thinks I’m being callous, undisciplined—something she has never seen from me.

“On cogwings, you had reins,” Vaylen continues, his blue gaze set on me this time, “since practicing your Tethers was impossible without a dragon to connect to. Though your training on the machines can’t be fully discounted, Tethering is much different. Cogwings are stiff. The reins don’t need to adjust to the movement of a living creature. You’ll have to learn to continuously modify your Tethers in order to maintain balance. With time and practice, the task will become instinctual. Getting to know your dragon will help greatly. So this is what we’ll do first… you will climb onto your dragon’s head, Tether to him, and practice directional commands while on the ground.”

“On the ground?” I complain before I can stop the rogue words.

Phoebe looks scandalized and reproachful. She’s not appreciating my behavior in the least, and I can’t blame her.

“I apologize, Sir.” I say quickly. “I didn’t mean to say that out loud. I’m just eager to fly. That’s all.”

“I will have a moment with you, Skysinger Wyndward.” Vaylen walks off.

Wincing, I follow. Shit! Already in trouble. Discipline has never come easy to me after my mother died. Not surprisingly, I stopped believing in authoritative figures after making Neutro Cindergrasp’s acquaintance. I succeeded at the Academy because my goals required me to be the best. Now, on the other side of many years of hard work, I find myself in possession of all I ever wanted and more. Needless to say, I feel somewhat… derailed. Not to mention the fact that this man has an outstanding ability to get under my skin.

“Is this the sort of childish behavior I’m to expect from you?” Vaylen hisses when we’re out of earshot.

I bristle, literally feel my hackles rise as if I’m some sort of feral cat. I want to shoot a biting comeback, but what can I say that doesn’t confirm his assessment?

“No, Sir,” I say, straightening my posture.

Vaylen seems to deflate at my response. Apparently, he was expecting pushback.

“All right,” he says after a moment. “From this moment on, I’ll tolerate nothing but exemplary behavior from you. Anything else, and you will find yourself below ground . Understood?”

Even if most things about Sky’s Edge are kept secret, the forms of punishment Primes use on unruly pupils aren’t one of them. On the contrary, we’ve all heard about being sent below ground . All the waste generated by Sky’s Edge’s residents travels downward through a variety of refuse and maintenance shafts. Dirty clothes, garbage, sewage, and who knows what else, end up deep at the base of the plateau. A certain level of maintenance is required to keep things running smoothly down there, and the Primes don’t shy away from using us to lend a hand if we misbehave.

“Understood, Sir,” I reply, reminding myself of what I decided this morning. I don’t need this man. I don’t need to treat him as if he matters. At the moment, he’s just a means to an end, same as all my Academy teachers. Well… perhaps not the same. He’s much more powerful than any of them, even more powerful than the other Primes here. But I have the chance to learn from the best, and maybe even surpass him. That needs to be my next goal. I always work better when I have my sights set on a target.

I follow him back to Phoebe, who is bowing respectfully in front of Trueno. The silver dragon stands majestic, giving Zephyros a sidelong glance. Maybe it’s my imagination but Trueno seems to be telling my dragon he’s glad I didn’t end up being his rider. Except, how could I possibly decipher all of that from one look?

Vaylen resumes his lesson. “The very first thing you need to do is figure out the fastest way to climb onto your dragon. It’s different for every rider given their height.”

He approaches Fragor, who bends his front knee just so. Like last night, Vaylen barely appears to touch the creature as he climbs. In an instant, he stands on Fragor’s large head, looking down at us.

“You first, Skysinger Breezehart,” he says.

Phoebe, all shyness thrown aside, leaps onto Trueno’s bent knee and propels herself upward, finding all the proper handholds and footholds. Once on Trueno’s back, she runs up his long neck, arms out for balance, and reaches the head. A huge smile springs to her lips. She looks triumphant, at the top of the world.

“Impressive work,” Vaylen says.

Impressive? Hardly. It’s merely the expected standard. At the Academy, we practiced climbing every day. There were different walls for that purpose, and the teachers made sure to change their layout all the time. Any student worth their while could climb those walls with their eyes closed.

Zephyros bends his knee. I’ve already assessed the best path to climb him, so I run in his direction and leap upward. As my foot lands on his knee, I bend my leg and propel myself further up, one hand aiming for a protruding spike. Just as I’m about to take hold of it, Zephyros shifts ever so slightly, and I miss. My fist closing around air, I slam into his side, slide downward, and hit the ground with a heavy thud .

Zephyros’s laughter rings in my head. I scramble to my feet, ready for a fight, but what am I going to do? Slap his armored body until I bleed?

—What in all the hells? I demand.

“That was… unfortunate,” Vaylen says.

“You saw what he did.” I point an accusing finger at Zephyros.

“All I saw was a rider attempting to climb their dragon without offering a proper greeting first,” he says.

Damn it! I stare at my boots, fuming. What is wrong with me?

—This is your fault, I tell Zephyros.

—Is that so?

—Yes.

The damn dragon is irreverent. How am I supposed to respect a creature that acts like an asshole? I take a deep breath, reining in my frustration.

Keep playing the game, Rhea. Keep playing the game.

When you have no power of your own, you have to bend to others. It’s what I’ve been doing all my life. Bend. Bend. Bend. All the while hoping I don’t break. I have bent to worse creatures than Zephyros, however. And unlike the others, in the end, he’ll give me the power I’ve been craving, the power I need to ensure no one ever hurts me or anyone I love ever again.

Swallowing my pride and ignoring what a total ass Zephyros is, I bow low, arms tight at my sides. His satisfied chuckle reverberates in my mind. The bastard! When I straighten, I notice Vaylen looks as satisfied as Zephyros sounds. Phoebe, for her part, just appears relieved. She doesn’t want me to cause any trouble for us.

From now on, I’ll be the best damn pupil High Prime Vaylen Stormsong has ever had. A pupil and nothing else.