#Bohdi Durran

[jazminrhode1]

Chapter 1: Conscription Day

The trials are physical but, the challenge is mental. Your father once told me the only weakness he couldn’t tolerate was arrogance—stay humble, stay sharp. And always remember: survive first, excel second.

Excerpt of recovered correspondence of Lieutenant Xaden Riorson to Thana Valaren.

~

The relics on her arm could have parted the sea of civilians that lined up at Basgiath War College on Conscription Day. She resented those who were here by choice and feared for the lives of those who weren’t. 

Thana Valeran adjusted her fighting leathers for the hundredth time since arriving that morning. They were allowed to take whatever they wanted across the parapet and she came prepared. She had more knives than the King’s Armoury and her father had trained her on how to use each and every one.

Thana scanned the sea of people milling around the courtyard, her heart tightening at the thought of Liam. She hadn’t seen him in years and the letters back and forth just weren’t the same (Yes, in this story, Liam is the same year as Violet and the others). He had been there for her through everything until... 

She let out a deep exhale. The very institution she stood before now had a lot to answer for. 

Since her father’s death, Thana had been trapped inside the dark halls of her mind—waking from one nightmare only to live through another, training because Garrick told her to—begged her to—repeating the cycle over and over again. If Thana was going to die, it wouldn’t be in combat. She knew she would lose her mind first, just like her mother had.

The sculptured dragons that sat atop Basgiath’s stone walls loomed overhead as she waited, her eyes flicking nervously toward the entrance. Recruits were already being funnelled toward the infamous parapet—the narrow, death-defying bridge that separated the weak from the strong. From the dead. She passed the distant shrieking off as birds flying through the ravine below the ridgeline.

“Where is he?” she muttered under her breath. The crowd was thinning. The sun dipped lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the courtyard.

And then she saw him.

Liam.

He was taller and broader, but it was him. His jaw was set in that same determined way she remembered, his eyes scanning the crowd with a soldier's precision. When his gaze found hers, it flickered. They stared at each other. Her momentary relief quickly gave way to the fear of losing him.

She swallowed the lump in her throat, resisting the urge to sprint to him, to throw her arms around him and prove to herself that he was real—that her mind wasn’t playing tricks on her, but she couldn’t. Not here. Not yet. Instead, she met his gaze with a sturn nod, and slowly, cautiously, they walked toward each other.

Without a word, they passed through the entrance to the citadel and joined the line of people climbing the steep steps towards the parapet. Thana's heartbeat hammered in her ears. She glanced at Liam, who moved with unmatched confidence. Sensing her nerves, he offered a reassuring wink.

They reached the top of the staircase, the wind whipping at her long dark hair, sending a shiver down her spine. Xaden was there, standing at the edge like a sentinel, his cold eyes sweeping over the recruits. He was calling them one by one, sending them across the deadly bridge, their fates hanging in the balance.

Garrick was by his side, scratching names into the ledger, his usual humour absent. His face was hard, focused as if he hadn’t known her since they were children. It was as if the boy who had once shown her how to throw a dagger, or gently carried a cockroach outside instead of crushing it, had been transformed into this hardened lieutenant.

Thana’s eyes landed on a small, silver-haired girl—Violet Sorrengail—standing near Rhiannon, the same girl who had asked for directions that morning before chattering her ear off. Rage surged through her veins at the sight. Violet’s mother was the reason her father was dead, the cause of her being orphaned. And Rhiannon? Just another pretty face standing in her way. If the Gods had any sense of justice, they’d both fall.

“Next!” Xaden’s voice cut through the wind.

Her heart stopped for a second. She took a deep breath and stepped forward, her eyes locking with his. For a fleeting moment, something passed between them. 

“Don’t die,” Xaden said, his voice barely above a whisper. She wasn’t sure if it was a plea or a taunt.

Thana clenched her jaw, shoving the emotion aside. She refused to give him the satisfaction of a response, especially after he’d stopped writing to her without an explanation.

Garrick scribbled her name into the ledger and pressed something into her hand. A ring. His ring. The one her father had given him before… “For luck,” he said quietly, meeting her eyes. She nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat.

"See you on the other side," Liam's voice trailed from behind, but she couldn't bring herself to glance back.

Then she standing alone, facing the narrow bridge that could spell her death with one wrong step. She heard Liam’s name being called behind her, but her focus was solely on the path ahead. One step at a time. She wasn’t going to fall.

The wind howled, the stone beneath her feet feeling more treacherous with each step, but she pressed forward. She could hear her heart pounding in her ears, louder than the rushing wind, louder than the jeers from the crowd.

She was halfway across when the boy in front of her lost his footing and fell into the ravine. She remembered what Xaden had written in one of his letters: The trials are physical but, the challenge is mental.

She knew Roman Halt; they had been friends since they were small, and she wondered if his brother was waiting for him on the other side. Thana shook her head to clear the thought and kept going, purposefully striding past the spot where he'd slipped, refusing to succumb to the temptation of looking down.

She wanted to turn around. She wanted to make sure that Liam was still behind her. She wanted Garrick to cross this death trap with her like he did when they would train on the parapet at Riorson House. She wanted to know what Xaden was thinking behind the darkness in his eyes. She wanted her father close like she did when she was a child that woke up from a  nightmare. Or, she wanted to be condemned to Malek alongside him. She wished that she was doing this by choice and that her fate wasn’t in the hands of Lilith Sorrengail. She wished that this was not her life.

After what felt like an eternity, she was across. Alive.

Liam was right behind her. The moment his boots touched the stone of the Rider’s Quadrant, he grabbed her arm, pulling her behind a nearby pillar and into a dark hallway. Before she could react, he wrapped his arms around her tightly trying desperately to catch his breath.

“Are you okay?” he whispered, grabbing her face in his hands, and scanning her face and body for any sign of injury.

“Are you okay?” she asked, her voice shaking as she gripped onto his forearms, staring at him in disbelief.

They clung to each other, both asking the same question over and over again, neither caring about the answer, just relieved to be here. Together. Finally.

Finally the hollow pit in her chest began to close over. For so long, she had felt as though she was falling from the parapet into the ravine, denied even the mercy of an end. Just the unrelenting sensation of freefall—her stomach lodged in her throat, danger always looming ahead.

As the Basgiath bells began to toll, echoing from the main building like a harbinger of the chaos to come, Liam and Thana emerged back into the courtyard. The number of cadets had grown significantly and a hush fell over the crowd. Xaden strode in behind them, flanked by Garrick, who looked less tense than before, an air of calm and arrogance radiating from him. She locked eyes with Xaden, who offered her a curt nod of approval before averting his gaze.

There was something about the wingleader’s arrogance—the deliberate way he gave her just enough to keep her wanting more—that stirred up something inside her, something that had long laid dormant. Xaden was always infuriatingly handsome, an irresistible blend of confidence and dark allure that  sent her pulse racing, no matter how hard she tried to resist.

“Three hundred and one of you have survived the parapet to become cadets today,” Commandant Pancheck announced, his voice dripping with an unsettling authority that sent chills down Thana’s spine. She didn’t like the way he looked at them like they were mere pawns in his fucked up little game.

“You will be tested by your superiors, hunted by your peers, and guided by your instincts,” he continued. Thana’s first instinct was to kill Violet Sorrengial. She didn’t care what happened to her after that.

“If you survive to threshing and you are chosen, only then you will become riders.” His words hung in the air, a promise that felt like a curse. The tension in the courtyard thickened as the crowd shifted, it almost felt like the oxygen was stripped from the air and Thana found it hard to breathe.

“I’ll leave you with your wing leaders,” Pancheck concluded, his smirk unsettling. “My best advice: don’t die.”

The cadets shifted as some girl named Nyra stepped forward, commanding their attention. “Cadets, when your name is called, take up formation behind your squad leader.”

Thana was relieved when her name was called and she found herself in the tail section, second squad, fourth wing. She was with Liam and separated from Sorrengail. She couldn’t help but think Xaden had something to do with that.

“Listen closely,” Xaden said, stepping forward with an intensity that silenced the crowd. “You are all cadets now. Take a look at your squads. They are the only people guaranteed by codex not to kill you. Just because they can't, doesn’t mean others won’t. Want a dragon? Fucking earn one.”

Did Xaden say without saying anything that he wanted Violet dead, too?

The sound of wings beating the air into submission disrupted the silence, drawing every gaze upward. Massive dragons landed on the outer walls, their wings stretching wide, shadows engulfing the courtyard. Thana’s heart raced as a cadet from the third wing made a reckless dash for freedom, only to be caught mid-flight, his screams piercing through the wind before being silenced. 

Among the dragons, one stood out to Thana—a dark blue creature, not the largest but infinitely more intimidating. Scars covered its body and it had one marked slash across its left eye. The dragon’s gaze locked onto Thana, and she felt a jolt as if their minds touched. She could almost hear its breathing in her head, a rumble that resonated deep within her. 

Before she could take a step forward to get a better look at the dragons on the ledge, Liam’s hand gripped her arm, pulling her back. Xaden’s breath hitched at the sight, and their eyes met—Thana’s confusion clashing against the fear she saw reflected in Xaden’s eyes.

[jazminrhode1]

Chapter 6: Sparring

Training will test you but, pain means progress here. The goal is to know your limits and push just a bit further each time. If you fall, get back up–it’s a rule of survival.

Excerpt of recovered correspondence of Lieutenant Xaden Riorson to Thana Valaren.

~

Thana leaned back against the rough stone wall, suppressing an eye roll as she watched the novices on the sparring mat. Each attempted jab, every sloppy block, only heightened her frustration. She muttered under her breath, cataloging their mistakes. “Wrong stance, too loose… you’ll get flattened in a second,” she murmured, her fingers drumming against her thigh. She couldn’t help but smirk as her gaze landed on Violet Sorrengail, hoping she’d get a chance to put her through her paces.

“That guy—way too much weight on his front foot,” came a voice beside her.

She turned, surprised to find Ruari standing close, arms crossed and nodding at the sparring match in front of them. “You noticed?” she asked, a hint of approval slipping into her tone.

Ruari chuckled. “Amateurs practically fall on their own swords, don’t they?”

Thana nodded, sizing him up a little differently. “Not bad, Ruari.”

She glanced back at the sparring mat, where Garrick, talking to Imogen, exchanged a look with Xaden. She saw Xaden’s barely perceptible nod before Garrick turned and walked over.

“Alright, Ruari, enough commentary,” Garrick said, not unkindly, but with a gentle push that sent Ruari back into the crowd.

As Ruari glanced at her over his shoulder, she mouthed, “Sorry,” with a quick shrug. Ruari rolled his eyes but grinned before disappearing back into the group.

Imogen wandered over, a faint smirk on her face as she sidled up to Thana. “You’re getting popular,” she teased.

Thana crossed her arms. She liked Imogen well enough, even if she didn’t fully trust her yet. “Ruari’s… different,” she admitted, watching Liam talking with Xaden across the room. Both of them seemed to be sizing up Violet, and she raised an eyebrow, suspicious.

Liam caught her gaze, and his mouth tugged into a grin, giving her a wink. Even the smallest gestures from him made her feel grounded. Then, Professor Emeterrio’s voice cut through the room.

“Violet Sorrengail!” he called.

Thana’s heart leapt. She stood slowly, anticipation prickling in her fingers, ready to show Violet what it meant to spar with someone serious. But to her surprise, Professor Emeterrio’s gaze shifted.

“Xaden Riorson, take the mat.”

A flash of thrill shot through her as Xaden crossed the room, confidence radiating off him. She could see the concern flicker over Dain’s face, but Xaden’s smirk only grew. He turned to Violet with a look that made Thana’s stomach twist.

“Don’t worry, Sorrengail,” Xaden drawled, his voice a low taunt. “You’ll be in one piece when I’m done with you.”

“Kill her, Riorson!” Jack Barlow shouted from the edge, his face twisted with glee.

The fight was brutal—Xaden’s calculated moves against Violet’s stubborn resilience. He taunted her, his insults cold and cutting, and for a moment, Thana almost pitied her. But when Professor Emeterrio called the match, and Xaden stepped back, she was less satisfied than she’d hoped. She wanted an answer to his reasons, his restraint.

After class, she jogged to catch up to him. “What the hell was that?” she asked, voice barely more than a hiss.

He looked at her, unphased, his face closed off. “What do you mean?”

She scoffed. “I mean, you didn’t finish her. Not even close. Why did you hold back?”

“Violet needs training,” he replied, his voice quiet but steely. “She’s important. I’m asking you to trust me.”

The request stunned her, and she felt a surge of anger. “You want me to her? You’re out of your mind.” She shook her head, trying to catch his gaze. “It’s like you don’t even care that your father died!”

He grabbed her arm, his eyes dark with anger. “Everything I’m doing is because I lost my father.”

She wrenched her arm free, fury smoldering in her chest, and stormed off, her footsteps echoing down the corridor. She nearly ran into Liam, who caught her arm and slung it over his shoulder as they walked toward the dining hall.

“Talked to Xaden, did you?” he asked, his face softening in that way only he managed.

Thana nodded, still simmering with frustration. “Yeah, and it was about as satisfying as talking to a wall.”

“Did he mention helping Violet?” Liam asked, his tone calm but probing.

She stopped, pulling her arm away. “How’d you know about that?”

He shrugged, unbothered by her reaction. “Xaden asked me to keep an eye on her. I trust him, Thana.”

Her anger faltered, softened by the knowledge of all Xaden had done for Liam back in the foster home, keeping him safe. She took a breath and collected herself. “I’m not going to help her.”

Liam looked down, understanding in his eyes. “Are you okay with me helping her?”

She forced herself to nod. “Of course. You wouldn’t be you if you didn’t.” She offered a small, resigned smile.

Liam pulled her into a hug, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “You’re an enigma, kid.”

After dinner, Thana slipped away from the dining hall, letting the murmurs and laughter fade into the background. The main corridor stretched before her, dimly lit and unsettling in the dark. She stuck to the shadows, her footsteps soft on the worn stone floors, taking a left hallway she’d yet to explore.

She moved with care, pausing to listen to each distant footfall, catching sight of the occasional flickering torchlight that signaled someone nearby. She ducked into an alcove as a familiar figure turned the corner—Dain. His brow was furrowed, clearly focused on something as he swept his gaze down the hall. Thana held her breath, watching him pass, only exhaling when he’d rounded a corner and the hall was empty again.

She slipped out from her hiding spot, feeling a surge of satisfaction at her quiet escape, and continued deeper into the castle’s lesser-known passages. As she traced her hand along a cold, uneven wall, she found herself lingering in a small, forgotten courtyard cloaked in shadows.

Someone cleared their throat from behind her, sending a thrill down her spine.

Thana whipped around, irritation flaring as she found herself face-to-face with Xaden, his gaze sharp and unreadable. He raised an eyebrow, stepping into the moonlight that pooled through the narrow windows, his arms crossed as he studied her.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he asked, his tone calm but carrying a hint of warning.

Thana rolled her eyes, her earlier frustration simmering back to the surface. “Just getting some air, away from everyone,” she muttered. “Don’t tell me I need permission for that too.”

Xaden sighed, shaking his head slightly. “If you’re going to roam around, at least try not to get caught. You have a knack for attracting the wrong attention, you know.” He gestured down a narrow passage she hadn’t noticed before, its stairs spiraling up into the dark. “Come on.”

She hesitated, but her curiosity won out. She followed him up the winding staircase, the walls narrowing as they ascended. Finally, they emerged into the open air at the top of one of Basgiath’s towers, the entire campus stretching below them. The landscape beyond lay shrouded in shadows, only the faint lights of the school and the stars above illuminating their view.

Thana sucked in a breath, the vastness of it all striking her. She could see every training field, every building, every cliffside path winding away into the distance. The quiet here felt different—heavy, almost reverent.

Xaden turned to her, his gaze more serious than she’d ever seen it. “Thana… I need you to stay safe. There are people here who knew your father, who remember him, and not all of them see you as separate from him.”

“Why do you care?” she asked, her voice cutting through the silence. She regretted it almost instantly, her childish challenge hanging in the air.

Hurt flickered in his eyes, and for a moment he looked away, the mask slipping. “Because, Thana… I don’t just care because I owe it to your father. You’re important to me.” His voice softened, carrying a weight she didn’t fully understand. He didn’t owe her father anything.

The words touched something deep in her, stirring memories of the friendship they’d once shared, before everything became fractured. “What happened, Xaden?” she asked quietly. “We used to talk about everything. Now it’s like every time I think we’re getting back to who we were, you pull away.”

He leaned against the stone railing, his gaze distant as he struggled to find the words. “There are things I can’t tell you,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Not because I don’t want to, but because keeping you safe means keeping you out of this mess. And it’s… it’s too much to ask of anyone else. Especially you.”

Thana’s eyes narrowed, pain and anger mingling in her voice. “Basgiath changed you.”

“No,” he scoffed, meeting her gaze with a quiet intensity. “The rebellion did that. Every scar on my body, every day I wake up knowing I’m fighting battles that aren’t even mine… that’s what changed me.” He exhaled, the tension in his shoulders falling as he let the words out. “I pray to Malek every night that this death will be the last one but, there’s always the next one and the next one. I can’t… I can’t wear that, Thana.”

A pang of sorrow cut through her anger, softening her voice. “You’re not alone. Isn’t that what you always told me? Garrick, Liam, me… we’re here for you, Xaden.”

His face crumpled, and for the first time, he looked raw, vulnerable, his voice cracking as he spoke. “They’re just kids, Thana… and they’re dying because they were forced to come here because of a decision that I made.”

She reached out, closing the space between them, and pulled him into a hug. Xaden sank into her embrace, his shoulders shaking as he buried his face in her shoulder, his tears soaking through her shirt. She held him tightly, letting him feel the weight of her presence, grounding him as he let go of the pain he’d held on his own for too long.

“It’s okay,” she whispered, brushing her hand over his back in gentle circles. “It’s not but… It’ll be we’re figure it out.”

For a moment, they stayed like that, the cold night air and vast sky above them their only witnesses. Slowly, his breathing steadied, and he pulled back, wiping his eyes, a faint smile breaking through his exhaustion. He took her hand in his.

“Thanks, T,” he murmured, his voice laced with gratitude.

They stood in silence for a few moments, sharing an unspoken understanding that hung between them. And as they descended from the tower, Thana felt a renewed determination settle within her. She’d protect him too, just as fiercely as he’d sworn to protect her, even if it meant facing down every danger Basgiath had to offer.

[jazminrhode1]

Chapter 4: Bonding

They say that a dragon without its rider is a tragedy. But, a rider without their dragon is dead.

Excerpt of recovered correspondence of Lieutenant Xaden Riorson; beneficiary unknown.

Thana’s fingers brushed against the cool metal surface of the counter as she placed the last of the plates in their rightful spots on the line. The kitchen smelled faintly of fresh bread and spices, the soft murmur of other students chatting in the dining hall beyond just barely reaching her ears. Kitchen duty before breakfast wasn’t the most glamorous task, but it kept her busy—and at this hour, it was better than sitting alone in her room letting her thoughts spiral.

Across from her, Evander Vossir was fumbling with a tray of plates, his hands shaking as he tried to arrange them neatly. His brow was furrowed in concentration, but despite his effort, his movements were stiff and clumsy, and every few seconds, a plate would slip from his hands and clatter noisily against the counter.

Liam was sitting on the bench nearby, eating an apple, looking entirely too relaxed for someone who had been up at the crack of dawn for sparring. He raised an eyebrow at Thana, casually tossing the core of his apple into the nearby bin.

“So, about that girl in the mess hall yesterday—her name's Estella, right?” he asked, his tone teasing.

Thana shot him a sidelong glance as she adjusted a few plates, keeping her voice flat. “Liam, can we not talk about your lady friends while we’re doing this?”

“Just trying to lighten the mood.” He leaned back, hands behind his head, clearly enjoying the break.

Meanwhile, Evander dropped another plate, sending it crashing onto the floor, the sound harsh and grating. Thana winced as the pieces shattered.

“Take it easy, Evander,” she said, her tone softer than it might have been. She knew the kid was nervous; he was barely holding it together. She couldn’t blame him. Everyone was on edge, even if they weren’t showing it. “I know you're scared, but this is kitchen duty. Stop stressing yourself out.”

Evander looked up at her, his wide eyes full of panic. “I—I’m not messing up on purpose, I swear! I just… I can’t—”

“I know,” Thana said, cutting him off, trying to sound more reassuring than she felt. She paused, then added with a small shrug, “You’re not getting graded on how you stack plates.”

Liam chuckled, but Thana didn’t miss the way his gaze softened when it landed on Evander. He didn’t like seeing people struggle either, even if he made light of it.

Evander gave a shaky nod, wiping his hands on his apron as if to somehow clean away his nervous energy. “I don’t want to mess up,” he mumbled, mostly to himself, as his hands shook slightly.

“Evander,” Thana said, stepping closer and placing a hand on his shoulder gently. “You’re doing great.”

But just as she said that, the door to the kitchen opened with a soft creak, and in walked Xaden Riorson, his tall figure casting a shadow across the room. He was talking with Liam about something, his tone calm and easy, but Thana noticed that Evander stiffened at the sound of Xaden’s voice. It was almost as if the tension in the room doubled.

Thana looked over at Liam, who raised his eyebrows in amusement. Xaden’s voice was smooth as he greeted them casually, unaware of the other presence in the room. “Morning.”

Liam gave a lazy wave, barely acknowledging Xaden, but Thana offered a small smile, trying not to laugh at the sight of Evander quivering in the corner. Before she could say anything, there was a loud crash behind them. Thana whipped around just in time to see Evander drop the tray of plates, the clattering sound echoing in the quiet kitchen like a bomb going off. 

Evander froze, his eyes wide and filled with horror. He bent over quickly, scrambling to pick up the pieces, hands trembling violently.

Xaden turned around, his expression unreadable as his eyes landed on the mess. “Evander?” he asked, his voice quieter now, tinged with concern. “You okay?”

Evander’s face was flushed with embarrassment, his mouth working but no words coming out. He nodded feverishly, as if trying to convince himself more than anyone else. “I’m fine, really. Just—just a little slip, that’s all.”

Xaden took a step toward him, kneeling down beside him and gently placing a hand on his shoulder. The contact was surprisingly gentle, a stark contrast to the tension that had filled the room moments earlier. “Evander, take a breath,” he said calmly. “You're going to cut yourself if you keep going like this. Relax.”

Evander didn’t look up, still scrambling to clean up the mess, his hands shaking with the effort.

“Evander,” Xaden repeated, this time more firmly. “You’re excused. Take a walk or something. Let someone else clean up.”

Thana watched as Evander’s face went even redder, but after a long, awkward pause, he finally nodded and stood, moving quickly toward the door with a muttered, “Sorry. Sorry, everyone.”

Xaden watched him leave, his gaze lingering on the door for a moment before he stood up and turned back to Thana and Liam. “You’ve got a lot of nervous energy around here today, don’t you?”

Liam smirked, grabbing another apple. “Tell me about it. You should see the other first years. It’s like watching a bunch of rabbits in a snake pit.”

Thana shook her head, but she couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped. She had a feeling this was going to be one of those days where every tiny thing felt like it might just fall apart.

They finished setting up the breakfast buffet before joining their peers in the dining hall.

Thana sat at the far end of the long table in the dining hall, her head propped up on one hand as she absently stirred her porridge with the other. The early morning sun streamed in through the tall windows, casting golden light over the breakfast crowd. Across from her, Liam was already devouring his food, as if the day’s lessons had already started and he needed every ounce of strength. Next to him, Bodhi was lazily picking apart a roll, making casual conversation with Imogen about the upcoming challenges.

“You look like you’re plotting someone’s demise,” Liam teased through a mouthful of food, his eyes glinting with humor as he glanced up at Thana.

Thana smirked, leaning back in her chair. “Maybe I am. Plenty of candidates around here.”

Liam chuckled, shaking his head. “Don’t start your day by decapitating anyone, please. At least not before lunch.”

"Fine,” she muttered, rolling her eyes. “I’ll wait.”

As they finished breakfast, the bell chimed, signaling their next lesson. Thana pushed her tray away and stood, pulling her satchel over her shoulder. The group headed toward Professor Kaori’s lecture hall, their footsteps echoing in the corridors. The energy was tense—Presentation and Threshing were drawing nearer, and everyone’s mind was on the dragons that could either bond them or burn them to ashes.

In class, Thana’s attention drifted as Professor Kaori began speaking. She found herself sketching again, her fingers dancing over the page as she drew the scarred dragon that had been haunting her thoughts lately. She captured the jagged line across his eye, the powerful frame of his body as he perched on the ledge, and the fearsome image of him flying overhead, wings darkening the sky.

“Keep the temperaments of each specific breed in mind when you decide which dragons to approach and which to avoid at Threshing,” Professor Kaori’s voice pulled her back to reality. She glanced up, her eyes narrowing slightly as the professor’s signet projected images onto the large screen behind him. The latest was a bright red dragon with a whip-like tail, tipped with a venomous barb.

“The red scorpiontails,” Kaori continued, “are the quickest to anger. And if you piss them off…”

“You’re dead,” Ridoc finished the sentence from across the room, earning a few chuckles.

The professor didn’t seem amused. “That’s right. Does anyone know how to properly approach a red scorpiontail?”

Silence hung in the room, and Thana’s eyes flicked to the others around her. No one raised a hand. After a beat, Kaori sighed. “Approach them from the left, and make sure it’s from the front. They hate being surprised.”

Next to her, Liam scribbled down every word in his notebook, his handwriting neat and precise. Thana, however, was only half-listening, her thoughts flitting between Kaori’s lesson and the strength she felt growing in her limbs thanks to Garrick’s brutal training. Her sparring victories gave her confidence, but they also made her aware of just how much more there was to learn.

“For this Threshing,” Kaori added, “there are three red scorpiontails willing to bond.”

“Three?” Rhiannon asked, her voice rising slightly in surprise. “How many dragons total?”

The room fell silent again, and Thana felt a sense of tension creeping in. Kaori’s expression was unreadable as he replied, “There are one hundred dragons. But remember, some may change their mind at Presentation.”

A hundred dragons didn’t sound like a lot. Not when there were so many first years vying for a chance to bond.

A first year in the front row raised his hand. “Do they ever explain why they don’t want to bond?”

Jack Barlowe’s scoff cut through the air before Kaori could answer. “No, jackass.”

Kaori shot Jack a look, then turned back to the class. “If you respect their life, you won’t question their decisions.”

The projector shifted to another image, this time of a sleek blue dragon with shining scales. Kaori’s expression hardened as he turned to the class. “Now, you won’t have to worry about blue dragons this Threshing. None of them are left to bond.”

Thana’s heart sank. She had been hoping—foolishly, maybe—that the scarred dragon she’d been sketching might be one of them. But Kaori’s words dashed that hope. 

Kaori’s gaze swept the room, landing briefly on Thana. It felt like he could see through her thoughts, straight to the disappointment she was trying to hide. He continued, “The most powerful of the blues, Sgayel, is bonded. If you see her without her rider, find somewhere else to be. She’s dangerous.” 

There was a murmur of unease that rippled through the room. “What about the other blue daggertail?” someone asked.

Kaori paused. “The other blue is none of your concern. We hadn’t seen him near Basgiath in over a decade. He is even more unpredictable than Sgayel and he’s been known to kill on a whim. I can’t say whether or not he’d keep his rider alive.” Thana shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

“Now,” Jack Barlowe spoke up again, his voice filled with bravado, “what about the black dragon?”

Kaori’s face darkened. “He’s a morningstartail. I haven’t seen him in five years. He doesn’t bond, and if you see him, run. He’s a killing machine.”

The rest of the class passed in a blur of dragon breeds and bonding odds, but Thana’s mind was elsewhere. Her fingers drummed lightly on the edge of her desk as she thought about the moves Garrick had taught her that morning. He had warned her she could decapitate someone if she wasn’t careful and they flirted with the idea of trying it on Violet Sorrentail. Or Jack. He’d do too.

As the bell rang, signaling the end of the lesson, Thana and Liam gathered their things. Thana ripped the pages of her dragon sketches from her notebook and stuffed them into her bag before they left the classroom. The crisp air outside hit her as they stepped into the courtyard, and Liam walked beside her in companionable silence for a moment.

“You’re over thinking again,” he finally said, nudging her shoulder gently with his own.

Thana sighed. “I can’t help it.”

Liam stopped walking, turning to face her with an intensity she wasn’t expecting. He looked into her eyes and she felt exposed. She though he was going to praise her for training so hard with Garrick but, he caught her off guard. “You’ll bond a dragon, Thana. You’re more worthy than any of us. And, I know you want it to be but, I hope it’s not him,” he said with a nod toward her sketch sticking out of her bag.

She shrugged. “Kaori said none of the blues are left to bond.”

Liam offered her a tight-lipped smile and Thana watched as he strolled toward the sparring gym. There was some girl he had promised to train but, Thana knew Liam better than that.

As she walked through the halls back to her bunk in the first-year dorms she kept thinking about the dragons from Kaori’s class. What was it like to bond a dragon? Can a dragon change their mind? What if she’s not worthy? What if no dragon even wants to bond with her?

As she unpacked her bag and stuffed her sketches under her mattress she saw a small sculpture on her night stand. She picked it up to examine it and in her hand sat the blue morningstartail with the scars etched perfectly across it’s wooden frame.

Alongside the sculpture sat a note written in Liam’s handwriting; 

Thana,

I hope this reminds you of all that you’re capable of. If this scarred dragon is yours, I won’t lie; the thought scares the hell out of me. But I know you’ll handle it. You always do.All my love,xx

[jazminrhode1]

Chapter 3: Conspiracy

In the best interest of preserving peace within Navarre, no more than three cadets carrying rebellion relics may be assigned to any squad of any quadrant.Addendum 5.2, Basgiath War College Code of Conduct

In addition to last year’s changes, marked ones assembling in groups of three or more will be considered an act of seditious conspiracy and is hereby a capital offence.Addendum 5.3, Basgiath War College Code of Conduct

~

Liam waited at the bottom of the stairs, his familiar, easy smile breaking the tension Thana carried in her shoulders. The moon hung low, casting silver light across the grounds, dancing over the strong currents of the Ikabos River. It was after curfew, a time when the silence of Basgiath’s grounds felt more ominous as if the very stones beneath their feet were holding their breath.

Thana walked down the stairs, her boots silent on the cold stone, her black cloak barely stirring in the breeze. Liam’s grin widened as she reached him, offering a low, "Ready?"

She nodded, and together, they walked in step toward the line of ancient oak trees that stretched along the riverbank, their shadows long and tangled like dark fingers reaching out across the ground.

“Challenges start next week,” Liam remarked, glancing at her. “How’s training been going with Garrick?”

Thana let out a soft sigh. “Brutal. But I can feel myself getting stronger.”

“Yeah?” Liam’s tone lightened with a teasing edge. “You’ve already won both your sparring matches. Honestly, I don’t think anyone is lining up to face you in combat.”

Thana smirked, nudging him with her elbow.

They continued walking, the sound of the river accompanying their footsteps. Thana’s mind wandered to the gruelling hours spent with Garrick. His tough-love approach had pushed her past limits she hadn’t even known existed. Yet, despite the difficulty, she knew it was working.

As they rounded the bend, the quiet murmur of voices drifted toward them. Xaden, Imogen, Garrick, and nearly two dozen other marked ones stood in the clearing under the oaks, their faces lit by the moonlight. The weight of gathering after curfew settled around them like a shroud, and though they’d been doing this for years, the danger was always looming.

Xaden straightened as Thana and Liam joined the group. His eyes swept over them, sharp and calculating. “Gathering in groups larger than three is an act of conspiracy,” he warned, his voice low but clear. “We need to be careful.”

He paused, scanning the group. “Everyone okay? Anyone need anything?”

A mutter came from somewhere within the group, “I want to go home.” It was Seraphine, a fellow first year who simply wasn’t cut out for the Riders Quadrant. Thana had grown to like Seraphine. She was determined even when the odds were against her. They shared a bunk and when Seraphine struggled to fall asleep at night, she’d tell Thana about her life. About how she wanted to become a healer like her father, how her mother tried to hide her and her siblings during the rebellion, how she was scared that she wouldn’t be here to see her younger brother cross the parapet the following year.

Lily had a way of popping up at odd moments, always with a quiet question or a nervous smile, looking to Thana for reassurance. They weren’t friends, but Thana had started to care for her in a way that surprised her. She’d caught herself instinctively stepping in to shield Lily during sparring matches and was the first to calm her trembling hands when they held a sword. She admired Lily’s bravery, even if the girl was clearly terrified. 

Another voice, barely audible, “Death would be a mercy.”

Xaden ignored them, his jaw tightening as he addressed Garrick. “Any updates on the death roll?”

Garrick’s expression darkened. “We’ve lost Sutherland and Luperco.”

The words hit Thana like a blow to the stomach. She felt sick, her heart twisting in her chest. Before she could steady herself, Liam’s hand found the small of her back, a silent gesture of comfort. She didn’t need to look at him to know he understood the weight of each name.

Imogen’s voice cut through the grim silence. “Like it or not, we’re going to have to stick together if we want to survive until graduation.”

A first year, someone Thana didn’t know, raised their voice timidly. “What if they find out we’re meeting?”

Xaden leaned against the nearest tree, his gaze as hard as steel. “We’ve been meeting since second year, and they haven’t found out. They won’t unless one of you tells. And if you do, I’ll know.”

There was no mistaking the threat in his voice, but beneath it, Thana heard something else—a flicker of fear, barely contained. “Like Garrick said, we’ve already lost two first-years to their own negligence. There’s only 41 of us left in the Riders Quadrant, and we don’t want to lose anyone else.”

His eyes softened, just a fraction, and for a brief moment, Thana saw the vulnerability he tried so hard to hide. “Every other Navarrian is looking for a reason to call you a traitor or force you to fail.”

Silence settled over the group like a dark cloud until Xaden broke it, his voice firm again. “How’s everyone doing with training?”

Four students spoke up, admitting they were struggling, each recounting how their sparring sessions had left them bruised and humiliated. Xaden’s gaze flicked to Thana, and to her surprise, he offered her a rare compliment. “Follow her lead,” he said, nodding toward her. “Ask for help. Do extra training. Spar with each other. Get the practice in.”

Garrick stepped forward, his easygoing demeanour offering a sliver of relief to the tense atmosphere. “I’ll help where I can.”

Thana, however, felt a flicker of annoyance. She valued her one-on-one time with Garrick, knowing he was the best fighter among them. Now, she’d have to share his time with the others.

Xaden smirked at Garrick. “There’s no one better to teach them.”

A voice from the back piped up, praising Xaden’s own fighting skills. Imogen, never one to let an opportunity for sarcasm slip, muttered, “Xaden’s certainly our dirtiest fighter.”

A frail-looking first-year stepped forward, their voice trembling. “I... I can’t stand the brutality. I want to go home.”

Xaden’s expression hardened instantly, and he barked, “Then don’t waste my time.”

Bodhi, Xaden’s cousin, frowned. “That’s a bit harsh, cousin.”

Xaden’s gaze didn’t waver. “I can’t save everyone.”

Garrick tried to break the tension with a quip, “Damn, Xaden. Way to give a pep talk.”

But Xaden was dead serious, the weight of his responsibility clear in every word. “I can’t help people who don’t want to be helped. Now, give me a problem I can solve.”

The group hesitated before a few voices chimed in—questions about Battle Briefs, history, weapons. Xaden fielded them all with his usual efficiency, but when one of the second-years asked when they’d get to kill Violet Sorrengail, the air grew tense.

Xaden’s eyes flashed, and his gaze found Thana’s. “I’ll handle her when the time is right.” His meaning was clear, and Thana forced herself to agree through gritted teeth.

When the questions died down, Xaden commanded them to disperse. “Return in groups of three. No exceptions.”

As the group began to disperse, Thana lingered near Liam and Bodhi, waiting for their time to head back. Xaden caught her eye, giving a subtle nod before motioning for her to step aside.

She walked over, her boots crunching softly on the dirt as they stood beneath the shadow of the oak tree. Xaden’s usual mask of steely confidence faltered for just a moment, his voice lower than usual as he asked, “Did I handle that right?”

Thana blinked in surprise. It wasn’t like Xaden to second-guess himself—at least not in front of anyone. She studied him for a beat, noticing the tension in his jaw, the weariness he couldn’t fully hide.

“You did the best you could,” she replied softly. “We’re all scared. They need someone to hold it together.”

Xaden’s eyes flickered, a brief glimpse of the weight he carried for all of them. He looked away, his shoulders stiffening again, but Thana knew the vulnerability was still there, just beneath the surface.

"Thanks," he muttered, barely audible. Without another word, he turned and strode off, his leader's facade snapping back into place.

Thana watched him go - there was no time to dwell on it. She rejoined Liam and Bodhi, and they fell into step together, moving silently through the woods. As they walked, Bodhi slung an arm over Thana’s shoulders, showing off his cheekiest grin. “So, Thana, about that blonde you sit next to in history…”

Thana shot him a deadpan look. “That would be Liam.”

Bodhi’s laughter echoed in the night. “Will you introduce me to her? I’m lonely.”

“You’re horny,” Thana replied.

He left his arm draped over her shoulders and they walked back past the river’s edge. As the moonlight lit her face he took her in fully for the first time in a long time. An old friend and part-time lover. “I’ve missed you,” he said with a kiss on her temple.

As the three of them approached the Rider’s Quadrant, Thana allowed herself to breathe, there was a sense of camaraderie that she hadn’t felt in a long time. It felt normal even as danger lurked in every shadow, and they were all walking at a razor's edge. But for now, they had each other. And that would have to be enough.

As they made their way back toward the dormitories, their quiet conversation was abruptly interrupted by a figure stepping out from the shadows of the nearby corridor. Dain Aetos stood there, arms crossed over his chest, a smug expression plastered across his face.

“What were you all doing?” Dain’s voice dripped with arrogance as he looked the three of them over. “You shouldn’t be out past curfew. You should know better, Durran.”

Thana stiffened, already bristling at the sight of him. Bodhi rolled his eyes but said nothing, while Liam, ever the diplomat, forced a polite smile. “Just heading back, Dain.”

Dain raised an eyebrow, his self-satisfied smirk widening. “You’re lucky it’s me and not someone else. You know the rules—gathering in groups of three or more after hours is considered a conspiracy for you lot. If anyone else caught you, there’d be more than just a reprimand.”

Thana clenched her jaw, resisting the urge to snap back. She hated the way Dain talked down to them, like he was somehow above it all, as if they were a different breed. His self-righteous attitude was suffocating.

“Don’t worry,” Bodhi chimed in with a lopsided grin. “We’ll make sure to scatter before we plot our grand rebellion.”

Dain didn’t even acknowledge Bodhi’s sarcasm. His gaze was fixed on Thana, as if sensing her growing disdain. “You should be more careful, Thana. I’d hate to see you get dragged down by their bad influence.”

That was it. Thana’s blood boiled, but she bit her tongue. She could feel Liam's hand gently press against her back, a subtle reminder to hold her temper. Dain’s condescending tone grated at her like nails on a chalkboard, and the way he looked at Liam and Bodhi, as if they were beneath him, only pissed her off more.

“We’re fine, Dain,” Liam said, his voice calm but firm. “You can go on with your patrol.”

Dain’s smirk didn’t falter as he gave a mock salute. “Suit yourself. But don’t say I didn’t warn you when you get caught.” He turned on his heel, disappearing into the night with an air of superiority that made Thana’s skin crawl.

As soon as he was out of earshot, Thana exhaled, her hands balled into fists at her sides. “I can’t fucking stand him,” she muttered, her voice thick with frustration.

“Join the club,” Bodhi said with a dry laugh. “That guy’s had a stick up his ass since first year. As if anyone fucking cares who his father is.”

Liam sighed, shaking his head. “He’s not all bad, just… a bit too by-the-book.”

Thana didn’t respond. She couldn’t shake the bitterness Dain left behind. His arrogance, his constant need to remind them of the rules, of their place—it gnawed at her. As they continued walking toward the dorms, Thana’s loathing for Dain Aetos solidified, the sharp edge of it settling deep within her.

If he ever thought he was better than them, she’d prove him wrong.

[jazminrhode1]

Chapter 2: Death Roll

You may feel the weight of those who’ve already fallen—it’s unavoidable. The list will grow, and you’ll recognize names. Let yourself feel that loss, but don’t let it stop you. The dead can’t help you here. Honor them by surviving. The battle will be lost if you stop fighting. Excerpt of recovered correspondence of Lieutenant Xaden Riorson to Thana Valaren.

~

Thana stood vigil beside Liam as Captain Fitzgibbons read the names on the death roll. One by one, the names of the fallen were spoken for the last time at Basigath War College.

As she stood with the rest of the first years, the silver star stitched into her chest marked her rank, a status she had earned but resented. She hated being marked, hated the significance it carried, hated that it set her apart when all she felt was the weight of those who had fallen.

"We commend their souls to Malek," Captain Fitzgibbons said, his voice devoid of emotion as he read the final name.

She couldn't get the image of bodies being dragged from the ravine out of her mind. She wondered if that was the same courtesy they showed her father in the wake of his execution. She refused to let the mundanity of the death roll dishonour the marked ones who had died, so she whispered a prayer for every one of them.They deserved more than this, more than a cold recitation and an empty gesture to a distant god.

Exo Halt, their squad leader, stepped forward, addressing the first years with a grim authority. His younger brother had fallen from the parapet the day before, and Thana had barely slept thinking of that moment over and over again. She didn't know Exo well, but she had known his brother, Roman. She had been sick twice in the night thinking about it, imagining his skeleton shattering to pieces as it hit the rocks in the ravine below.

Exo's voice was steady, betraying none of the grief she knew he had to be feeling. "Second and third years, follow your schedule. First years, you're on your own. Look out for each other. I expect every one of you to be alive in the sparring gym this afternoon."

Thana couldn't help but feel a flicker of excitement at the mention of sparring. She had been agitated since she woke up the previous morning, the energy building inside her. She needed a release, and the gym was the perfect place to get it out.

Exo dismissed everyone, and the cadets dispersed. Liam started toward their first class, but Thana lingered. "I'll meet you there," she called after him, before making her way to Exo.

She caught up with him just as he was about to leave the courtyard. "Exo," she said softly, falling into step beside him. He turned his head slightly, acknowledging her presence without looking at her directly.

"I'm sorry about your brother," she whispered just loud enough for him to hear.

He sucked in a shaky breath and distracted himself with the loose thread on the cuff of his fighting leathers. Without looking up he said, "Welcome to the Rider's Quadrant.

Thana clenched her fists, anger boiling beneath her skin. How could he be so detached? This was what Basgiath had turned him into—a soldier who buried his humanity beneath layers of duty and survival.

He glanced at her, his face set. "Get to class, Thana. That's an order."

She turned to leave, her heart heavy, but as she walked away, his voice stopped her in her tracks.

"I'm sorry about your father," he said, his voice softening for the first time.

Her breath caught in her throat, and for a moment she felt like the ground was slipping from under her feet. She nodded, not trusting herself to speak, and hurried away before the wave of emotion could crash over her.

Thana and Liam found their seats in Battle Brief, still reeling from the morning's events. They had come from History class, where Thana had barely kept her eyes open. The Professor's monotone voice had almost lulled her into sleep, and only the sharp jab of Liam's elbow had kept her awake.

But now, as Professor Devera stood at the front of the lecture hall, all Thana could think about was Violet Sorrengail, sitting just a few seats away. Her mere presence grated at Thana's nerves, the sight of her silver hair catching in the dim light making her stomach twist. She still couldn't understand what kind of mother would send her daughter here—General Sorrengail of all people. She had heard Violet wanted to be a scribe and she would have been far better off in the Scribe's Quadrant.

After the class, Thana's gaze remained locked on Violet as they made their way to the sparring gym. Her fists clenched unconsciously, a cold fury burning in her chest.

Violet caught her staring and, to Thana's surprise, smiled, oblivious to Thana's desire for revenge. Before Thana could speak, Xaden intercepted her path.

"Walk with me," he said, his voice low and commanding.

Thana followed Xaden in silence as they weaved through the crowded halls of Basgiath. His pace was quick, purposeful, and it was all she could do to keep up, her mind racing with questions. When he led her to a shadowed alcove near the eastern wall, away from prying eyes, she expected the same cold distance he had shown since her arrival. It was hot but, she was over it. Instead, Xaden turned to face her, his expression unreadable for a moment. And then, without warning, he pulled her into a hug.

Thana stiffened, caught off guard by his embrace. She could feel his heartbeat inside his chest, the tension in his body giving way to something softer, more vulnerable. For a split second, the weight of her anger and confusion lifted, replaced by a rush of relief that mirrored his. Xaden was relieved—truly relieved—that she had made it across the parapet.

"Gods, Thana," he breathed, his voice rough, as if the words had been caught in his throat for too long. "I thought—when I didn't see you..."

She swallowed hard, her own emotions threatening to spill over. She hadn't expected this. Not from him.

"I'm fine," she said quietly, her cheek pressed against his chest. "I'm fine."

He held her tighter for a moment, as though grounding himself in the reality that she was there, alive and breathing in his arms. But when he pulled back, his expression had already shifted, the vulnerability slipping behind a wall of uncertainty.

Thana stepped back, searching his face, the words that had been simmering in her mind spilling out before she could stop them. "Why did you stop writing to me?"

The question hung in the air between them. Xaden's jaw tightened, and he looked away, his fingers flexing at his sides.

"I'm sorry," was all he said but, something felt like it was missing.

Thana's eyes darkened, her voice sharp. "That's it? You're sorry?"

Xaden's face softened with regret, but before he could respond, he took a deep breath and reached for her hand, squeezing it tightly. "Thana, listen to me. You need to stay away from Violet Sorrengail."

His words hit her like a slap, and she jerked her hand out of his, stepping back. "What?" Her voice was incredulous, her anger sparking again. "Her mother killed our parents, Xaden! She's the reason for all of this."

His eyes closed briefly, pain flashing across his features. When he opened them, there was a rawness there that cut through her anger. "I know," he said quietly. "I know what her mother did. But Violet... Violet didn't kill your father. I need her alive, Thana."

The sincerity in his voice gave her pause, but it wasn't enough to douse the fire that had been burning inside her for so long. "Why?" she demanded, her voice rising. "Why do you need her? What makes her so important that you're willing to protect her? My Dad is dead and Lilith deserves to know what that feels like."

He didn't answer immediately, and the silence that followed only fueled her frustration. When he finally spoke, his voice was pained but resolute. "I can't explain everything right now. But I promise you, Violet is not her mother."

"You're wasting your breath if you think I'm going to pretend she's anything but the enemy," Thana hissed, her gaze was unrelenting. "Don't ask me to be better than this, because I'm not. Not for her."

Xaden looked at her, his expression torn between understanding her anger and the weight of his own responsibilities. "I get it," he said, his voice low. "I understand why you want vengeance. But this... this isn't the way. Not with her. I need you to trust me."

She could speak to Xaden with this level of anger and bluntness because they had never hidden behind niceties; their relationship had always thrived on an unspoken pact of unflinching honesty, no matter the cost. And, this wasn't about him - he knew that. This wasn't about forgiveness or moving on. Thana's soul had been swallowed whole by the grief, the rage, and the need for retribution. 

Thana seethed with wrath and confusion, and something else—something far more vulnerable. "You don't get it," she muttered, more to herself than to him.

The bell rang in the distance, cutting through the tension between them. Xaden's head turned toward the sound, and with visible reluctance, he stepped back.

"I have to go," he said, his voice regretful. But before he turned to leave, he cupped her face in his hands, his touch surprisingly gentle. He pressed a kiss on her forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment as if leaving her was a hard thing to do.

"I'm glad you're here," he murmured against her skin, his breath warm. "We'll talk soon, I promise."

He turned to leave but, before he did he said, "Don't die." And then he was gone, leaving Thana standing in the alcove, her heart pounding in her chest.

Frustrated and confused, she clenched her fists at her sides, trying to make sense of everything that had just happened. Xaden had hugged her, kissed her forehead like he was relieved—but he had also asked her to psparerotect Violet Sorrengail, to go against everything she had been holding onto since her father's death.

She let out a shaky breath, her emotions swirling as she tried to piece together what this meant. But no matter how hard she tried to understand, she knew that whatever Xaden was hiding was bigger than just keeping Violet alive.

When Thana returned to the main hallway, Liam was waiting for her, a quiet understanding in his eyes and a half-carved sculpture in his hand. They didn't need to speak; he could always read her well enough to know when to leave the silence untouched. Together, they walked toward the sparring gym, the tension between them more like the calm before a storm than an absence of words. She was grateful for that—the unspoken bond that kept her grounded even when everything else felt like it was spiraling. She missed this.

As they entered the gym, they saw cadets gearing up for combat. The rhythmic sound of footfalls on the mat, the clash of weapons, and the sharp bark of commands from Professor Emetterio echoed through the space.

Garrick was already there, bouncing lightly on the balls of his feet, his eyes scanning the room with excitement. When his gaze settled on Thana, a smile flickered across his face as he waved them over. Her stomach twisted in knots.

"Finally," he said as they approached, his tone teasing but warm. "Thought you might've bitched out."

Thana gave him a tight smile, the weight of the morning's events still weighing on her. "Just took a detour."

Garrick raised an eyebrow but didn't press. Instead, he nodded toward the cadets currently in the ring. The first years were circling each other, hesitant and clumsy. Professor Emetterio, standing nearby, sighed in frustration. "Stop dancing and attack," he barked.

"Tell me what they're doing wrong," Garrick said.

Thana crossed her arms, watching them for only a few seconds before rattling off her observations. "Footwork's too wide—they're leaving themselves open. The taller one keeps overreaching on his strikes. If the shorter one wasn't so scared, he could've already had him on the ground."

Garrick's grin widened, impressed. "Good eye." He turned to her, lowering his voice slightly, "But what are you going to do about that? When it's your turn?"

The question hit her with a jolt of anxiety, but she quickly swallowed it down. Thana glanced at Liam beside her, who gave her a reassuring nod. She drew strength from that—Liam's quiet presence like a tether keeping her from losing her fucking mind.

"I'll make sure they don't get a chance to expose my weaknesses," she said, her voice steady.

"Exactly," Garrick said, slapping a hand on her shoulder. "Trust your instincts."

The words settled something inside her. Garrick was more than just a mentor—he was family. He had trained under her father for several years and, now, Thana felt like she was learning from her father too.

Her focus shifted as the current match ended, the two cadets leaving the ring battered and breathless. The room seemed to shift with a collective breath as Professor Emetterio called forward the next pair.

"Violet Sorrengail and Imogen Cardulo," the professor barked, his voice cutting through the murmurs of the room.

Thana's pulse quickened. Imogen was a name she hadn't heard in a long time, but she recognized the girl instantly. They had crossed paths a few times when they were younger—back when their lives were simpler. She had heard whispers of Imogen's lineage, but seeing her now, it was unmistakable. Imogen was one of them, a child of the rebellion. The rebellion relics on Imogen's arms confirmed it. Distinctive marks that served as a form of punishment and identification. The sight of them made Thana feel sick.

Next to her, Garrick looked on with a quiet admiration. "Carludo's kid," he muttered, "her Dad was one of the best riders I ever heard of. Used to ride with your dad from time to time." Thana went pale.

Imogen stepped into the ring with Violet, her movements less refined than Thana had expected. She was strong—Thana could see that—but her strikes lacked precision. She moved with determination, but not with the finesse of a seasoned fighter. Thana's fists clenched unconsciously. Why did it bother her that Imogen was earning Garrick's respect when Thana knew she could've done better?

Violet, for her part, was quicker but hesitant. Her smaller frame allowed her to dodge Imogen's heavier blows, but she wasn't confident, and it showed. As Imogen pressed harder, Violet's uncertainty began to cost her. The room grew tense with each strike, Imogen's frustration building as she tried to land a decisive hit.

Garrick leaned closer to Thana, eyes glinting with interest. "She's stronger than she looks," he whispered, nodding toward Imogen. "Not as sharp as you, but there's something raw there. Natural."

Thana swallowed the bitter taste of jealousy that rose in her throat. She knew Garrick wasn't comparing them intentionally, but the comment still stung. Natural. He'd never called Thana a natural.

Imogen landed a heavy strike, and Violet stumbled, her breath coming in short gasps. For a moment, it seemed like Imogen might overpower her entirely, but Violet wasn't done yet. She twisted out of Imogen's grip, using her agility to dart away and land a clean strike on Imogen's side.

The room stirred with murmurs as the fight escalated. Imogen, now visibly frustrated, swung wide, and Violet took advantage of the opening. She slipped under Imogen's arm, her quick reflexes allowing her to land another hit. Imogen grunted in pain but didn't back down. She charged again, this time with less control, her desperation starting to show.

Violet dodged, but this time she wasn't fast enough. Imogen caught her by the arm, twisting with all her strength. There was a sickening crack as Violet's arm gave way, her cry of pain cutting through the noise of the gym.

The room fell into stunned silence.

Thana's heart raced as she watched Violet crumple to the ground, clutching her arm in agony. The satisfaction she expected didn't come. Instead, there was only a deep, unsettling discomfort. She felt something like relief for Imogen, but also a stab of guilt for the jealousy she had carried.

Imogen stepped back, breathing hard, her face a mixture of triumph and shock. She hadn't meant to break Violet's arm—Thana could see that in her eyes—but it had happened nonetheless. Professor Emetterio called an immediate end to the match.

Liam's hand brushed against Thana's, grounding her in the moment. His silent support was the only thing keeping her from unraveling entirely. She glanced at Garrick, who let out a low whistle.

"That was... intense," he said, clearly impressed with Imogen's strength, though the pride in his voice stung Thana again.

But she couldn't focus on that now. As Xaden rushed to Violet's side, concern etched on his face, Thana forced herself to turn away. The burning jealousy inside her hadn't faded, but neither had the storm of emotions swirling in her chest.

Garrick clapped her on the shoulder, oblivious to the turmoil inside her. "Your turn next time," he said with a grin, "and I expect you to put on a better show than that."

Thana forced a smirk, but inside, her anger raged on.

And she knew—soon, that fury would need an outlet.

[jazminrhode1]

Chapter 11: Threshing

In the six centuries of recorded history of dragon and rider, there have been hundreds of known cases where a dragon simply cannot emotionally recover from the loss of their bonded river. This happens when the bond is particularly strong and, in three documented cases, has even caused the untimely death of the dragon.

Navarre, An Unedited History by Colonel Lewis Markham.

~

October first is always Threshing. Monday, Wednesday, or Sunday, it doesn’t matter where it falls on any given year. On the first of October, the first-year cadens of the Riders Quadrant enter the bowl-shaped forested valley to the southwest of the citadel and pray they come out alive.

“Don’t die,” Xaden had told her that morning at breakfast. She’d barely touched her food that morning, her stomach churning too much to eat. She remembered Professor Kaori’s words: If a dragon has chosen you, they’ll make it known. They’ll be calling. Yet as she stepped into the dense, misty forest, silence met her ears. No call. No sign. Only the quiet crunch of leaves underfoot and the distant cries of cadets who’d already bonded, flying back to the flight field on their dragon’s back.

Hours passed. Judging by the sun, she figured it must be nearing midday, and her nerves frayed further with every dragon that crossed her path. She passed greens, browns, even a few oranges, all of them letting her pass without a second glance. She moved with caution, taking in every rustle, every breath of wind, searching for a sign that one of them might choose her. But there was nothing. And now Liam was gone, having left about an hour ago, claiming he needed to “follow his instincts.” Alone, Thana kept pushing forward, her feet drawing her deeper into the valley. The forest grew denser, quieter, and she sensed she was nearing the boundaries that Professor Kaori had specifically warned them to avoid.

Her father’s voice whispered to her through the stillness of the trees, reminding her of the quiet nights they’d spent camping, watching stars above and learning to find peace in the wild. She felt closer to him here, beneath the canopy, where everything was raw and untouched. She loved this—the wilderness, the solitude. Even so, she knew her time was running short. She climbed a steep cliff edge, emerging into a sunlit clearing, dropping her pack to stretch. She couldn’t hear any other cadets anymore, nor the distant beat of dragon wings. Had she gone too far?

Suddenly, a flash of blue caught her eye through the trees, and her breath caught. Golden eyes glared at her, framed by vicious fangs. She recognized the dragon instantly—Sgaeyl, majestic and terrifying in the shifting light. But Sgaeyl wasn’t alone. Stepping out from behind her was Xaden.

“What are you doing here?” he demanded, disappointment flickering across his face. 

“Kaori said to follow your instincts” Thana shot back, barely hiding her frustration. 

Xaden was guarded. He looked like he was going to say something but, he hesitated. He knew something that she didn’t, she was certain of that but, she wasn’t sure she wanted to know, not now.

Before either could speak, a dark shadow swept over them, and the scarred dragon descended into the clearing with a thunderous flap of wings making the ground quake as it landed. Sgaeyl tensed, shifting to stand protectively in front of Xaden. There was a strange, silent exchange between Sgaeyl and the other blue, as if they were locked in some kind of fierce, unspoken argument. Thana glanced at Xaden, who looked as tense as Sgaeyl, his gaze flicking between the dragons as though he, too, was part of the conversation.

When Sgaeyl snapped, baring her teeth at the other dragon, Thana instinctively stepped out from behind Xaden and ran into the clearing where she met Sgaeyl’s intense stare. “Stop it!”

Sgaeyl dropped her head to meet Thana’s stare. You can’t tell a dragon what to do, the voice in her head snapped. Thana blinked, realizing with a jolt that Sgaeyl was speaking to her directly. Thana froze.

Xaden’s hand twitched at his side as he addressed Sgaeyl. Please, stand down, he said. She heard that too.

“How are you doing that?” she asked Xaden. His focus was on Sgaeyl. He was attentive to her in the only way a man could be to a beast. He was being selective of what parts of their conversation Thana could hear and what was just between them.

Sgaeyl growled lowly but slowly retreated, still shooting Thana a warning look. And then, Thana turned to face the scarred dragon, her heart racing.

I’ve waited for you, a deep, resonant voice rumbled in her mind. She met his amber eyes, feeling their intensity pierce her as he lowered his head in a gesture of trust. Thana’s hands shook slightly as she reached out, her fingers brushing his scarred snout. 

“I thought you weren’t bonding this year,” she stammered, trying to comprehend what was happening.

I chose you on Conscription Day, he replied calmly. She still stood frozen, unsure if she was terrified or relieved.

I’m sure you have a lot of questions, young one but, I’m afraid we’re running out of time. Get on my back, the dragon commanded gently.

Thana wasn’t sure that the ramp on the Gauntlet compared to the steep climb it would take to mount this dragon. Without further hesitation, she scrambled up his leg and onto his back. Not bad.

Thana gripped on tightly with her legs and clenched onto the scales between his wings. I won’t let you fall, he said. Before she could exhale, he took flight. Xaden followed on Sgaeyl, soaring through the valley as her dragon swooped and veered in graceful arcs. Below them, mountains unfurled like rolling waves, with autumn meadows painting the landscape in rich hues of gold and red.

Thana took in the trees and the mountains and the river bends below. She could see everything from up here. For the first time in a long time she felt like she could finally breathe.

As they approached the flight field, her dragon took a gentle lap around the perimeter, savoring the wind and the beauty of the valley. I haven’t had company like this in some time, he murmured, a note of contentment in his voice.

When he finally landed, she noticed that Liam had already returned, standing beside the red dragon that had eyed him back at Presentation Day. He grinned when he saw her dismount, and his dragon, Deigh, rumbled approvingly. But as Jack Barlowe strutted by, Thana’s dragon hissed, making Jack flinch.

Go and tell the roll keeper we’ve arrived, he explained. Her dismount was a little clumsier that she would have liked. We’ll practise, don’t worry.

With a steadying breath, she made her way to where Garrick was taking roll, his face pale, his voice shaky as he tried to maintain his composure. “Thana Valaren, glad to see you made it back alive,” he said, the words scripted but his relief unmistakable. “For the record, tell me the name of the dragon who chose you.”

Thana hesitated, realizing she didn’t actually know his name. A low rumble filled her mind, Válka, he whispered.

“Válka,” she repeated aloud. Kaori and Pancheck exchanged glances nearby, their eyes focussed on her. Garrick cleared his throat and nodded. “You’re dismissed.”

She made her way back to Válka, feeling the weight of dozens of eyes on her. With her mind still spinning, she asked, “Now what?” Now, Válka replied, his voice filled with a strange mix of pride and amusement, I show you what you’re really made of.

[jazminrhode1]

Chapter 10: Get Ready

Basgiath’s dangers aren’t confined to training fields. The doors have ears and the walls have eyes–sleep with a knife closeby.

Excerpt of recovered correspondence of Lieutenant Xaden Riorson to Thana Valaren.

~

With so many fallen, the first-years had been moved out of the dormitories and into their own rooms. The solitude was strange, unsettling even, and Thana welcomes the company.

Liam was sprawled across her bed, his legs dangling off the edge as he animatedly recounted his night with his latest fling, describing their encounter in far too much detail. Thana was only half-listening, her focus more on the lines forming under her hand as she drew absentmindedly in her notebook.

"…and then, well, things got fucking good,” he was saying with a smug grin, clearly enjoying himself. Thana smirked, pausing her sketch.

“By the way, thank you for the sculpture,” she interrupted, her tone soft but genuine. Liam stopped mid-sentence, his smile shifting into something gentler.

“You actually liked it?”

She nodded, her fingers brushing the edge of her notebook. “I loved it.”

He relaxed back onto her bed, hands folded behind his head. “Good. I wasn’t sure, you know… thought maybe... I don’t know what I thought.”

She chuckled softly, her mind drifting back to the path and the sight of the Red dragon. “I saw that Red dragon staring you down.”

Liam’s expression grew thoughtful, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Yeah… me too. I don’t know, Thana. Maybe that’s my dragon. Or maybe it’s just sizing me up as its next meal.” He laughed, though a hint of seriousness lingered beneath the joke. His gaze settled on her, and he hesitated before asking, “That blue… it’s not the first time it’s attention has been solely on you.”

Thana’s breath hitched as she picked up the dragon Liam sculpted for her, her heart beat a little faster. For the first time, she let her thoughts slip out, her voice barely more than a murmur. “I’ve been thinking about it a lot. I was kind of hoping, you know, until Professor Kaori mentioned that no Blues are left to bond, so I guess it’s just… wishful thinking? I don’t know.”

Liam shifted, his expression hardening, his gaze dropping to the floor as if choosing his words carefully. “What do you know that I don’t?” she asked, sensing he might know more than he was letting on.

He shook his head, hesitating for a long moment before meeting her eyes again. “I worry about you, Thana. More than I can explain.”

She swallowed, the words settling heavily between them. Not wanting to linger on the uncertainty, she rose, pulling on her training leathers. “I’ll see you later,” she said, reaching over to squeeze his hand before leaving the room.

As she headed down the corridor toward the gym, her mind wandered. She passed Violet and her friends on the way, each one clad in pristine uniforms. Thana’s fingers itched at the dagger sheathed at her hip, entertaining a dangerous thought. Maybe a dragon will do me the favor of torching her at Threshing. But Xaden’s voice echoed in her mind, reminding her of his request to stay away, and she forced herself to let it go.

When she entered the gym, she stopped short. Instead of Garrick, Xaden stood in the middle on a training mat, arms crossed, watching her approach with that same unreadable expression.

“Garrick won’t be able to train you today,” he said, voice low and clipped. “I’m stepping in.” He’s probably too busy fucking Imogen.

She swallowed hard, trying not to let her surprise show as she took her place, stretching and preparing herself for whatever he had planned. Xaden’s presence was as imposing as ever, and his gaze held a strange mixture of distance and intensity. The usual warmth she felt with Garrick was absent; instead, the air between them felt charged, taut with a tension she couldn’t quite place.

For the next hour, Xaden put her through her paces, his instructions curt, his focus unrelenting. There was no room for mistakes; each misstep was met with a critical eye, each stumble corrected with almost mechanical precision. 

“Thana,” he finally broke the silence, his voice softer, yet weighted. She stilled, expecting him critisize her lack of progress though she had been working her ass off for weeks.

“That scarred dragon… when it looked at you,” he hesitated, his gaze darkening, “I was terrified. That dragon’s behavior—it’s… erratic, unpredictable. It intimidated the Greens, even Sgaeyl.”

Her heart skipped a beat at the mention of Sgaeyl, the dragon Xaden had bonded with. “Sgaeyl?” she asked, the revelation sending a shiver down her spine.

He nodded, almost reluctantly. For a moment, his expression softened, a flicker of something vulnerable flashing across his face before his defenses returned. “Dragons usually follow patterns, signals that might not make sense to us but, they make sense to eachother… but that one doesn’t. Even Sgaeyl struggles to understand its thoughts. It’s… unlike any other.”

He looked away, as though battling with himself over what to say next. It was like he was on the verge of telling her something important, something deeply personal. But instead, he simply said, “Be careful, Thana. Threshing is dangerous. Stay vigilant, know what you’re dealing with, and remember—most dragons will let you pass if they don’t want to bond. But if one shows interest, trust your instincts.”

She swallowed, her voice barely a whisper. “And Sgaeyl? How did she choose you?”

Xaden’s gaze darkened, a shadow crossing his face. “She was bonded to my great-grandfather, but he… he didn’t make it through the quadrant. Sgaeyl chose me because of my scars. They represented… something she understood.”

Thana’s heart twisted at his words, a pang of empathy washing over her. “I’m scared,” she admitted, her voice barely more than a whisper. “What if no dragon chooses me?”

A faint, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “You won’t need to worry about that.” The way he said it made her stomach twist. There was something he wasn’t telling her—something he knew that she didn’t.

Later that night, sleep evaded her. Her mind kept drifting to Threshing, the dangers she would face, the dragons that could choose her… or choose to burn her alive. Quietly, she jimmied open her window and climbed out, scaling the wall to the roof, where the view of the grounds stretched out beneath her. The quiet night air settled around her as she stared out, letting her thoughts drift to her father.

“Dad,” she murmured, her voice barely audible as a tear slipped down her cheek, “if you’re out there… if you can hear me, what do I do? What would you do?” She looked up at the stars, searching for some hint, some answer in the silence. Her father’s dragon, the eldest of the Blues, had died with him during the Rebellion. She’d wanted a Blue to feel closer to him, to honor his legacy.

A faint light flickered below her, drawing her attention back to her room. The window had been left open, and someone was in there, she could see the shadows shifting in the dim light. She held her breath, waiting, until the figure finally left, leaving the room empty once more.

Climbing down, she slipped back through the window, her footsteps soft on the floor. Her eyes fell on her desk, where a note lay, the ink still fresh.

“Stay vigilant. Your father would be proud.”

Her breath caught in her throat, her fingers trembling as she lifted the note. The message lingered in her mind, like an echo of her father’s presence, urging her forward. And as she lay down, the weight of his legacy settled over her, a reminder of the fire within her she hadn’t yet unleashed.

[jazminrhode1]

Chapter 9: Presentation

Dragons respect intelligence as much as courage. Remember, it’s not strength they want—it’s resilience.

Excerpt of recovered correspondence of Lieutenant Xaden Riorson to Thana Valaren.

~

The path stretched out before them, winding and narrow, lined by the intimidating presence of dragons on either side. Each creature loomed tall and still, all of them them averaging a massive twenty-five feet. The cadets waited in formation, several feet back from the path, each one trying to still their breathing, trying not to let nerves show. Thana felt her own pulse thrumming in her neck as she stood beside Liam, their squad braced for whatever was to come.

“Let’s go, Second Squad, you’re up next,” Garrick called, his voice sharp and clear. He locked eyes with Thana, giving her a reassuring wink, then slipped back into his professional demeanor. “Into formation!” he ordered.

Thana and Liam found themselves positioned in the front of the line—not the place Thana would’ve chosen but there was no changing it now.

"Walk straight down, stay seven feet apart," Garrick instructed. Luca, stationed a few steps behind, raised her hand with yet another question. Garrick’s patience visibly waned. Thana and Liam exchanged a knowing look.

"Is it true that a feather-tailed dragon might bond with someone?" Luca asked, a faint quiver in her voice.

Garrick's answer was brash, his irritation barely concealed. "Single file."

As he passed by, Thana caught the muttered "for fuck’s sake," under his breath, and had to stifle a laugh. It was an all-too-familiar reaction to Luca's endless questions.

Liam led the way, his shoulders squared, steps deliberate. Thana walked behind him, fighting to keep her composure steady. Up close, the dragons were massive—far larger and more imposing than they had looked on Conscription Day. As they passed each one, the tension in the air thickened, the dragons’ eyes tracking their every move.

They passed a Brown dragon first, its dark, intense gaze fixed on them as they walked by. Then, a Red, its fiery eyes narrowing, its head angled toward Liam as if sizing him up. Thana’s heart pounded harder, but she kept her expression steady, following Liam’s lead.

As they neared a yellow feather-tail, she could feel Liam’s subtle glance back at her, a silent check that they were both seeing the same thing. The murmurs from the cadets behind them grew louder, the nervous energy sparking among them like a frayed live wire.

Without warning, a scream echoed down the line. Thana’s stomach dropped as she turned in time to see Pryor incinerated in flame, his scream cut short as a Brown dragon unleashed another scorching jet of fire. Silence fell as the smoke dissipated, leaving nothing but ash in its wake. Thana clenched her fists, pressing down the icy chill creeping up her spine, and forced herself to keep moving. She could see the tension in Liam’s back, his fists clenched tightly as he continued down the path.

Breathing deeply, she took a steady look around. Dragons lay everywhere—some sprawled in the open, others hidden back in the tree line, their eyes glinting with watchful intensity. She was keenly aware of every sound, every whisper of breath and movement as they walked. Each dragon felt like a predator, waiting for the slightest sign of weakness.

As they walked, two Green dragons crossed their path, their powerful bodies moving with slow precision. They were the most temperate of the dragons, known for their quiet strength and reason. One of the Greens on the right lowered its massive head, coming close enough that Thana could have reached out and touched it. She held her breath, unsure what it would do, but then—

A loud rumble shook the ground. The Greens retreated, their heads turning away as a dark shadow moved toward them. Thana’s pulse quickened as she looked up and saw the scarred dragon. It was so close to the path that if she had stopped walking, she would be within striking range. Its gaze locked onto her, and as she passed, it dipped its massive head ever so slightly, almost as if bowing. Thana felt herself inhale sharply, her breath caught in her throat. Unsure of what else to do, she dropped her head in a subtle nod, maintaining eye contact. Then, just as suddenly, the dragon launched itself into the sky, its wings casting shadows over the path as it disappeared.

Keep walking, Garrick’s voice echoed in her mind, urging her forward. Thana picked up her pace to fall back in step beside Liam. Her hands shook slightly, but she forced herself to keep moving.

She exhaled, unaware until that moment that she’d been holding her breath. She kept walking, her mind reeling with the enormity of what had just happened. She could still feel the weight of the dragon’s gaze, as if its presence lingered even now, hidden somewhere in the trees, watching.

As they neared the end of the path, finally out of sight of the dragons, Thana spotted an old oak tree. She dropped down beside it, her legs shaky as she sat next to Liam. He leaned his head back against the trunk, his eyes closed as he breathed deeply. She could feel the tension in his shoulders easing as she rested her head on his shoulder, the weight of the ordeal finally lifting now that they were out of the line of fire.

Nearby, Xaden stood, arms crossed, his gaze scanning the cadets still lined up on the path. He looked impassive, his face set in an unreadable mask. But something about the way his eyes lingered on the path—sharp, alert, and just the faintest bit relieved—caught her attention.

Thana tried to decipher his expression. Was it relief? Fear? Or something else entirely? She couldn’t be sure. Xaden’s emotions were often locked away, hidden behind the carefully constructed walls he kept in place.

“Not what you expected?” Liam asked softly, his voice breaking her train of thought.

She looked over at him, offering a faint smile. "I’m not sure what I expected, honestly."

Liam nodded, his gaze fixed on a distant point in the sky. "I can’t believe we made it through that."

She gave his hand a squeeze, her own fingers still tingling from the adrenaline coursing through her veins. They had survived—barely. 

From across the field, Xaden's gaze flicked toward her for a split second, and she met his eyes. For a heartbeat, she thought she saw something there—something vulnerable and raw. But just as quickly, his expression returned to its usual impassivity, unreadable as ever.

She took a deep breath, letting the weight of the moment sink in. Threshing was just around the corner–this wasn’t over yet.

[jazminrhode1]

Chapter 8: The Gauntlet

Your father often said Basgiath’s cruelty had a purpose. It forces you to find what you’re made of. But don’t let that cruelty harden you. I’d hate to lose you to this place.

Excerpt of recovered correspondence of Lieutenant Xaden Riorson to Thana Valaren.

~

The weight of the Gauntlet was beginning to settle into Thana’s bones. It had been weeks since they started their training, and each time she climbed, balanced, or swung through the course, she felt more sure of herself. The muscles in her arms had hardened, her grip tightened, and her sense of balance had sharpened. There was still fear—a steady hum at the back of her mind—but it no longer controlled her. Instead, it pushed her, a reminder of what was at stake. Every climb, every jump, every slip was a lesson, and she was learning faster than she expected.

Garrick had been pushing her harder each day. His patience was unwavering, but there were times when his frustration showed—when she slipped, when she missed a rope or lost her footing, he’d flinch and his jaw would clench, and she'd see the flicker of concern in his eyes.

"Again, Thana," he would say, his voice clipped. "Don't think, just do it. Focus."

Thana would nod though aggravated at his tone, nevertheless she'd try again. She was stronger now, but the Gauntlet was unforgiving, and there were days when the course felt like it was mocking her. Today, however, she was determined. Today, she wouldn’t slip.

They worked on climbing, scaling walls with nothing but their hands and feet, then testing their agility and balance on beams set higher and higher. They moved from rope to rope, from wall to ledge, until the only sound was the pounding of their hearts and the crunch of gravel beneath their boots.

Despite her progress, there were moments when Garrick’s frustration was too palpable. When she missed a jump and had to scramble back, or when she faltered, gripping the wrong rope too tightly, he would sigh deeply.

"Focus, Thana," he would mutter, his tone softer but still tinged with impatience. "I know you can do better than this."

He had always been like a big brother to her, but lately, it seemed that the pressure was weighing on him too. It wasn’t just about the training anymore; it was about making sure they all survived. And Thana could sense that if they fell, if she fell, he would carry the blame.

By the time the sun dipped below the horizon and the evening training session ended, she was exhausted—her arms burned, her legs ached—but she couldn’t stop. They had to be ready for the final climb tomorrow. Presentation Day was almost here.

The next morning, the courtyard was quiet, more subdued than usual. As Thana lined up with the rest of the cadets, her stomach churned with anticipation. She could see the other squads, most of them tense and jittery, the realization of what today meant settling over them. It was different today—there were fewer of them than there had been when they started, the attrition of training already claiming so many. The air hung heavy with expectation.

Captain Fitzgibbons stood on the dais, his voice steady and strong as he read from the death roll. The names seemed to echo in the crisp morning air, each one a grim reminder of the stakes they faced. The crowd of cadets was smaller than before, but Thana knew it would only shrink further. The toll of the Gauntlet was unforgiving, and Presentation would be the final test for all of them.

"Evander Vossir," Captain Fitzgibbons called, his voice like a bell tolling. There was a brief silence, and Thana felt a knot form in her stomach. She’d seen it—the fall, the sickening plummet as Evander lost his grip. Thana had wanted to scream at Jack for not helping, for not doing more, but nothing had come of it. Jack was who he was.

“Second and third years,” Captain Fitzgibbons continued, his tone unyielding, “unless you’re on Gauntlet duty, head to class. First years, it’s time to show us what you’ve got.”

Thana’s stomach twisted as the words settled into her chest. It was their turn now.

Imogen leaned over to Violet, a sly smile crossing her face. "Good luck today," she said, her voice dripping with faux sweetness. "Hopefully, you don’t fall short."

Thana bit back the snide comment she wanted to make in response. She didn’t have the energy for it—not today, not when everything was on the line.

Liam, standing next to her, squeezed her shoulder. "Ready?" he asked, his voice calm, though there was a flicker of nerves in his eyes.

"Let’s just get this over with," Thana muttered, trying to shake the anxiety that was tightening around her chest.

They walked toward the Gauntlet, the towering cliffside looming ahead. Thana could feel the tension in the air, like a charge in the atmosphere, building with every step they took.

Garrick fell into step beside them, his face set in an expression that was half-steely determination, half-worried concern. He glanced at both of them, his eyes lingering a little longer on Thana. "Focus, all right?" he said, his voice gruff but kind. "You’ve trained for this. I know you can do it."

Then he handed her a small piece of folded paper. Thana took it without thinking, her mind still caught in the haze of nerves. She unfolded it quickly and read the short note from Xaden.

"Don’t die," it read, in his familiar, scribbled handwriting. The words were blunt, but they made her smile.

"Don’t die," Thana murmured under her breath, folding the note back up and tucking it into her pocket.

An hour later, she was at the base of the Gauntlet, the wind whipping at her hair as she stared up at the cliff face. It felt different now, like she was staring at something that could break her. The pressure was heavy, the weight of everyone’s expectations threatened to consume her.

As she started the first climb, she focused on Liam, just ahead of her. He was always so sure-footed, moving with the kind of confidence Thana still struggled to find in herself. But today, she couldn’t let her mind wander. She had to do this—she had to prove she could make it, for herself, for Garrick, for Liam.

The climb was a blur. She focused on one handhold, one foothold at a time, her body moving in a practiced rhythm. The panic crept in when she neared the steep incline, her hands slick with sweat, but the voice in her head wasn’t hers this time - it sounded like her father’s, steady and firm, a reminder to breathe.

"You’ve got this," she whispered to herself.

As she reached the top and sprinted for the final stretch, she saw Liam standing at the end of the flight field, his smile wide and encouraging. Beyond him, Garrick watched with an unreadable expression, his arms crossed, his gaze never leaving her.

Thana pushed harder, her legs burning, the ramp steep under her feet. She didn’t slow down, not until she reached the top and heard the roar of the crowd around her. She glanced over and saw Ruari, with a smile from ear to ear, clapping his hands rapidly. Then, her eyes darted to Violet, who had made it as well. Thana didn’t even try to hide her feelings.

Then, Liam was there, wrapping her in a tight hug, his arms strong around her, and she exhaled the breath she didn’t even realize she’d been holding.

"That’s all me," Garrick mouthed over Liam’s shoulder, his smile wide as he watched them.

By the end of the morning, only 169 cadets remained, and their squad had come fourth out of thirty-six. Liam had been the fastest, winning the coveted patch, though Thana was convinced he didn’t know how to accept second place. Prick.

The box canyon was breathtaking in the afternoon light, the sun casting a warm golden hue over the meadows and the peaks rising around them. The leaves had begun to turn, gold and amber, painting the landscape in vibrant color.

As they walked toward the narrow entrance to the valley, Liam reached his had back to get. She gripped it tightly, her heart still pounding from the Gauntlet.

Liam leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her head.

"You did it," he whispered.

Thana just nodded, her gaze lingering on the dragons that circled above them. As they descended into the valley, Thana’s throat began to close up. This was just the beginning.

[jazminrhode1]

Chapter 7: Fear

Some will try to scare you into obedience, but your mind is your strongest weapon. If you can conquer fear there, the rest will follow. Stay steady, even when you feel the ground shift. You are as beautiful as your mother but, you are father’s daughter.

Excerpt of recovered correspondence of Lieutenant Xaden Riorson to Thana Valaren.

~

The library was quiet, save for the soft rustle of pages turning and the scratch of pens on paper. Thana sat across from Liam at one of the long wooden tables, her notebook open in front of her. The ink from her pen smudged as she absentmindedly doodled the view from the tower that Xaden had shown her the other night—the sprawling fields and the sharp outline of the mountains in the distance, the pale sky stretching endlessly above. She focused on the little details, the way the moon caught the jagged edges of the cliffside, casting long shadows.

Liam sat opposite her, his brow furrowed as he scribbled notes into a thick, leather-bound book. He was deep in his studies, his eyes flicking between the page and the open text before him. But something about his posture seemed off, his usually steady hand faltering occasionally. His foot tapped softly against the floor in a rhythmic pattern, though it lacked its usual energy. Thana watched him for a moment, her pen stilling mid-stroke.

"You're quiet today," she said, her voice softer than she intended, a hint of concern threading through her words. She studied him closely, watching the way his shoulders tensed whenever he turned the page.

Liam didn't respond right away, his eyes lingering on the page before him, but his hand stilled as though he'd been caught in the act of overthinking. Thana's gaze softened, her hand resting on the table, fingers tracing the edges of her notebook.

"Everything okay?" she asked, her voice gentle, trying not to sound too insistent.

Liam hesitated, exhaling slowly, then met her gaze. His eyes were tired—more than usual—and there was a weariness in his expression that caught her off guard.

"I—" He paused, then sighed. "I’ve been writing to Sloane." He looks around to make sure he’s out of earshot of others. “Xaden’s been sending the letters toher.”

Thana blinked, not expecting that response. Liam rarely spoke about his sister, not since they’d both arrived at Basgiath. She had been there in the background of his conversations, but never at the forefront.

"Writing her?" Thana echoed, tilting her head slightly. "What about?"

"The trials," Liam said, his voice tinged with a sadness that made Thana’s chest tighten. "How to survive them. How to survive. I have to, Thana, I have to do what I can to make sure that she makes because if she doesn’t I…"

Thana’s heart ached for him. She had never truly understood the bond between siblings like the one Liam and Sloane shared, but she could see it now in the quiet pain that seeped into his words. It reminded her of the way she’d felt when her father died—helpless, unable to do anything but watch the people she cared about suffer.

She shifted her notebook aside and leaned forward, her fingers brushing the edge of the table. "Liam," she said quietly, her voice carrying the weight of everything unspoken between them. "She’s stronger than any of us. She’s going to make it. You’re gonna see her again."

Liam looked at her, his blue eyes bright with a mixture of gratitude and doubt. Then, without a word, he reached across the table, his hands wrapping around hers. The pressure of his grip was firm, almost desperate, as though he needed the reassurance of her words to anchor him.

"I just… I need to believe that," he murmured, his thumb brushing across the back of her hand.

Thana gave his hand a gentle squeeze and repeated, "You’re gonna see her again."

The words hung in the air between them, a quiet promise to one another. Thana held her composure, her steady gaze never leaving his. She could feel the weight of his worry, and for a moment, she let herself believe that everything might just be okay—if only for this moment.

Liam finally broke the silence, a faint but genuine smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "I love you."

She swallowed the lump in her throat and lent down to place a kiss on the back on his hand. “I love you too.”

~

Thana craned her neck to take in the obstacle course carved into the cliffside. It stretched up and up, switchback after switchback, an impossible series of challenges leading to the ridge that separated the citadel from the flight field and the vale beyond. Her stomach twisted as she traced the path with her eyes, each ledge more intimidating than the last. She felt a prickle of fear not only for herself but for Liam… and Ruari. She couldn’t shake the feeling that the course itself was taunting them, daring them to try and fail.

Liam, on the other hand, seemed unfazed, practically bouncing on his heels in excitement. “Finally,” he breathed, grinning as he took in the daunting course.

Thana swallowed hard, trying to focus on the memories that rose unbidden. She thought back to the obstacle courses her father used to set up, to the walls he’d made her climb back at Riorson House. It was as if he’d been preparing her for this moment, training her without her even realizing.

“I still don’t know why they call it the Gauntlet,” Ridoc muttered, arms crossed as he surveyed the course with a mix of disdain and nervousness.

Garrick leaned close to Thana, his voice a low murmur, “It’s to weed out the weak before Presentation. You’ll see.”

The memory of her conversation with Xaden the night before weighed heavily on her as she glanced over at him on the other side of the group. He stood with his arms crossed, talking with the other wing leaders, his expression unreadable as he watched the remaining cadets of the quadrant. She could only imagine the pressure he felt, bearing the responsibility of the lives around him.

Her thoughts were interrupted by an argument nearby—Ridoc and Tynan were at it, their voices raised and indignant. Ridoc must still be fuming over getting humiliated by Rhiannon on the mat. Sawyer tried to calm them down, his tone serious. “Look, you could be the best at the challenges and still get passed over by a dragon. Happened to me last year.”

Professor Emetterio’s voice cut through their bickering. “Listen up. The Gauntlet got its name because this cliff guards the vale. And, yes, if you’re wondering—like an actual gauntlet, it’s slippery as hell.”

The cadets stilled, some of them wide-eyed as Professor Emetterio continued. “Hand-to-hand combat is on hold for the next two and a half weeks. You’ve got nine attempts to master this before Presentation. You’ve got one hour before the next squad goes. Now pay attention, because each ascent is designed to mimic challenges you’ll face in battle.”

Thana took a deep breath as she and Liam moved to the edge of the line. She glanced up, watching Violet’s squad attempt the Gauntlet. The challenges were brutal—one cadet after another slipping, grabbing for the ropes, each grab costing them time. And still, they struggled forward. Thana’s stomach clenched. This couldn’t be the worst of it.

Her gaze shifted, catching sight of Dain standing off to the side, watching Violet with an expression that could only be described as terrified. She nudged Liam. “Dain’s ridiculous, isn’t he? Acting like he’s in love or something.”

Liam laughed under his breath, glancing from Dain to Tynan, who was pacing a few steps away. “Yeah, and Tynan… He’s irritating as hell. One of Jack Barlowe’s cronies. Dain would probably slap him with the rule book, but, Xaden… Xaden would just knock him out.”

After what felt like forever, it was finally their turn. Thana’s heart hammered as Professor Emetterio addressed their squad, his voice echoing down the cliffside. “Remember, there are ropes every six feet. Grabbing one costs you thirty seconds, but death will cost you more. Let’s move.”

Thana steadied her breathing, eyes fixed on the ropes stretching up the cliff, each turn steeper than the last. She watched a few cadets go before her, then Liam stepped up, his stance confident as he dashed forward onto the spinning log, crossing it with ease. Thana’s nerves tightened as she watched him.

When her turn came, she squared her shoulders and sprinted across the log, feeling it shift beneath her. She tried to focus on the memories of her father’s training—the logs he’d make her cross at the edge of the garden, the ropes he’d hung from trees over the creek. But this was harder. The course was relentless, and each new challenge more grueling than the last.

She swung from bar to bar, her grip aching, her focus narrowing to the few feet in front of her. Liam was up ahead, light on his feet, as if the obstacles were mere stepping stones. She drew strength from his determination, forcing herself to keep up.

But as she neared the final stretch, the ramp looming just ahead, she watched in horror as the girl in front of Liam lost her footing. She slipped, reaching for the rope but missing, and fell halfway down the cliff. The sight was seared into Thana’s mind, and she staggered backward, pressing herself against the rock wall, bile rising in her throat.

Liam caught her arm, his hand grounding her. He tilted her face up, his eyes gentle but firm. “Focus, Thana. You’ve done this before. Just breathe.”

When she caught her breath, he let go, running up the final slope and calling back to her, his voice steady. “Come on, you’ve got this!”

She swallowed hard, blinking away the stinging in her eyes as she took a shaky breath. She couldn’t fall now. Not after everything. Summoning the last of her strength, she sprinted up the ramp, her feet slipping against the steep incline but catching just in time. She stumbled as she reached the top, collapsing to her knees, her breaths ragged as she fought to keep her composure.

Liam was beside her in an instant, his arm around her shoulders, murmuring comforting words. She looked over, catching sight of Xaden and Garrick watching from the flight field, their faces unreadable as they conversed. Imogen rushed over, pulling Thana into a warm, unexpected hug.

“I’m so glad you made it,” Imogen said, her smile soft. “You did amazing.”

The following morning, they gathered in formation, the air somber as Captain Fitzgibbons approached to read the death roll. Thana’s stomach twisted as he began, his voice solemn and unwavering.

“Calvin Atwater. Elizabeth Stimer. Seraphine Mungo.”

Thana felt a pang in her chest as Seraphine’s name echoed through the air. Seraphine had been one of the marked ones, terrified she wouldn’t make it. Thana had tried to reassure her, to tell her she’d be fine. But it had been a lie. She hadn’t been fine at all.

There was nothing remarkable about that morning. The first trial had only lengthened the list of the fallen, each name a reminder of the precariousness of their lives. Corilus Rickman. She remembered him—kind, a bit odd, but nice enough.

She slipped her hand into Liam’s, and he squeezed it three times, a silent reassurance she clung to. She didn’t know what she’d do if she ever heard his name on that list, if he didn’t make it through this gauntlet of trials and impossible odds.

There was a dark cloud over Basgiath that day.

[jazminrhode1]

Chapter 5: Ruari

Cadets come and go, most don’t last, and some don’t deserve to. But there are a few you’ll trust with your life. Keep your eyes open for allies. You’ll need them sooner than you think.

Excerpt of recovered correspondence of Lieutenant Xaden Riorson to Thana Valaren.

~

Thana was jolted awake, her chest heaving, the torment of her nightmare still lingering. The vision of a locked, pitch-black room where her mind unraveled had been too vivid. As her breath steadied, she felt an arm wrap around her waist—Bodhi's, heavy and warm in his sleep. She hadn't meant to wake him. She'd woken up with him in her bed for the third time in as many nights, and she'd been meaning to call it off but...

Carefully, she slipped out from under Bodhi's arm, the chill of the early morning air biting against her skin as she stretched. She couldn’t fall back asleep. Not with her thoughts running wild. She threw on her fighting leathers and left the women's hall, making her way toward the gym. She needed to burn off the restless energy, to chase away the fear gnawing at her insides.

The gym wasn't empty when she arrived. To her surprise, Ruari, Hawke a fellow first-year, was already there. His tall, muscular frame moved with focus, sweat gleaming off his tanned skin. His thick brown hair caught the early sunlight as he trained, throwing a series of punches at a practice dummy. He'd gotten better since his disastrous first sparring match a few days prior, though he still had a long way to go.

Ruari acknowledged her almost immediately, pausing mid-swing to offer a nod. "Thana," he greeted her, his voice warm and genuine. "You're up early."

She just nodded in reply. She moved to stretch, eyeing him from her corner of the gym. His progress was clear, but there was still a hesitancy in his movements. She didn't know a lot about him, but she liked that he didn’t seem to care about the markings etched across her arm—a rarity among the Riders.

After a few minutes, she found herself unable to watch any longer. She stepped closer to Ruari, watching as he struggled with the stance. "Your footing's off," she remarked quietly, not wanting to embarrass him.

Ruari looked at her, startled for a moment before he grinned sheepishly. "I was wondering why I felt like I was about to drop like a sack of potatoes. You mind showing me?"

Thana hesitated but eventually nodded. "Sure." She guided him through the movements, her own thoughts momentarily forgotten in the rhythm of training. He followed her instructions carefully, and although they kept a comfortable distance, she couldn't help but respect his determination. He wasn't the strongest fighter, but he was improving—and that counted for something.

As they continued, the door swung open, and in walked Garrick and Imogen, looking far too comfortable with each other for Thana’s liking. Imogen’s pink hair was tied up, an undercut visible, and she laughed at something Garrick said, her eyes twinkling.

Thana rolled her eyes and as she went back to her stretching. "Impressive work this morning," Garrick remarked, though she couldn't tell if he was addressing Imogen or her.

Ruari packed up his things shortly after, offering Thana a small smile. "Thanks for the help. If you ever want to train together again..." He left the invitation hanging, an olive branch of sorts. Maybe more.

Thana nodded, watching him leave before turning her attention back to Garrick and Imogen, who were still engrossed in their conversation. Imogen shot Thana a curious look, but there wasn't any gossip to share. She wouldn't give Imogen the satisfaction of thinking anything had happened between her and Ruari.

Later that day, Thana sat by the banks of the Ikabos River, the soft breeze ruffling her hair as she absentmindedly twisted the ring between her fingers—the one Garrick had given her before she crossed the parapet. She hadn't known it was engraved with her father's name until recently, and now the weight of it felt different. 

Her thoughts were interrupted when Garrick came barreling down the riverbank, shirt discarded, and dove straight into the water with an enthusiastic splash, laughing with the others as he surfaced. Thana smiled briefly but couldn’t shake the anxious pit in her stomach.

Then she heard the crunch of footsteps behind her. She didn’t have to look to know who it was—she’d felt the shift in the air before he even spoke.

"Mind if I sit?" Xaden's voice was low, steady. He was always so composed, and it unnerved her sometimes.

"Go ahead," she replied, scooting over to give him space on the sun-warmed rock she was perched on.

For a few minutes, they sat in silence, watching the others in the river. Thana continued to fiddle with the ring, her fingers tracing the engraved letters, lost in thought. Xaden's presence was usually suffocating, but today it felt grounding. After a while, he finally spoke.

"You're thinking about the challenges," he stated more than asked, his gaze steady on her.

Thana hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "And Presentation... and Threshing. I don’t know if I'm ready for any of it." She paused, casting a sidelong glance at him. "What if I fail? What if no dragon wants to bond with me?"

Xaden shifted slightly but didn’t close the gap between them. His dark eyes softened, something almost like concern flickering beneath his usually hardened exterior. "You're not going to fail, Thana. Whether you know it or not, you've trained your whole life for this." He pointed at her father's ring, "he's trained you your whole life for this."

She let out a small, shaky breath, feeling the vulnerability she’d tried to suppress all day creeping in. "But what if I do? What if this whole time... all the training with Garrick, all the work I’ve put in... what if it’s still not enough?"

Xaden raised his hand, as if to rub her back, but hesitated. His hand lingered in the air before falling back to his side. "You're going to be okay," he said quietly, his voice firm but gentle. "I won't let anything happen to you."

The gesture was subtle, but Thana noticed it. His instinct to comfort her was there, but something held him back. It left her feeling both reassured and unsettled, a strange mix of emotions swirling inside her.

She looked up at him with uncertainty still clouding her eyes. "Xaden... how do dragons choose their riders?"

At that question, Xaden’s expression shifted. Something unreadable flickered across his face—something guarded, like he was choosing his next words carefully.

"It's... complicated," he finally said, his voice quieter now, like he was speaking more to himself than to her. "Sometimes it's instinct. Sometimes they see something in you that you don't see in yourself."

Thana’s gaze sharpened, her thoughts immediately going to the scarred dragon she’d seen. She remembered the way it had looked at her during Conscription, like it was evaluating her, judging her in a way no one else had. "And the scarred dragon?" she asked cautiously. "The one we saw on Conscription Day. How does a dragon like that choose?"

Xaden’s jaw tightened. For a moment, he didn’t say anything, just stared at her with that same intense look he’d given her the day of Conscription. The same look that had unnerved her then and unsettled her now.

He finally sighed, looking away towards the mountains. "That dragon... It doesn’t choose the way the others do."

Thana frowned, confusion knotting in her chest. "What do you mean?"

Xaden shook his head slightly, a shadow crossing his features. "It's already decided who its rider is going to be."

His words hung in the air, heavy with implication. Thana couldn’t help but feel a chill run down her spine. There was something more he wasn’t saying, something about that dragon and the way it had looked at her.

"Did Sgayel tell you that?" she asked.

Before she could press him to answer, he stood up, offering a hand to help her to her feet.

"Come on," he said, his tone shifting back to that composed, commanding voice she was more familiar with. "We’ve got to get to dinner."

Thana hesitated, still trying to make sense of what he’d said, but eventually nodded, taking his hand as he pulled her up. As they walked back toward the others, she couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to the scarred dragon’s gaze than she realised. And maybe... just maybe, it had something to do with Xaden.