2026-07-14 20:49:23Eryx stood in the doorway of his assigned room, his heart sinking as he stared at the crumpled space he was to call home.
It was a narrow space between two stone walls; a single pile of damp straw was to be his bed, the air smelled of cattle poop. There was no lamp in the room as well.
Eryx sighed as he slumped on his bed of straw. He was still grateful to have the luxury to have a place to lay his head; he didn’t have a trunk for his belongings because he had no belongings.
The black veins on his arm were swirling back and forth. He had left his dragon in the pit; at least it seemed to be in a better position than he was.
He closed his eyes, trying to ignore the crawling hunger in his stomach and the words that seemed to be etched into his mind.
‘GROW!’
He turned to the other side, his brows pinched. How was he supposed to grow in a place that was set on burying him?
…
The next morning, the candidates stood on the training grounds with their dragons. The beasts looked magnificent as their scales shone underneath the morning sun, their breaths a puff of hot steam. Most of the dragons gave way as Eryx and his dragon approached.
“Even our dragons are revolted by the sight,” a boy scoffed with disdain as he glared at Eryx.
Eryx ignored the disgusted looks of the nobles as he walked over to the edge, his dragon behind him. Black eyes bags were visible on his face; he didn’t sleep well last night.
“I thought they were dead. Why did the elders allow them to still stay alive?” another girl whispered quite loudly to her friend beside her.
Before anyone could speak, an instructor walked down the line, staring at the candidates with a bored, cold expression. When he reached Eryx and his skeletal dragon, he frowned, but he didn’t stop, walking back to stand in the middle of the ring.
“The first duels of the season begin today,” his eyes sweeping across the group. “But understand this—a rider and a dragon are one. If the dragon is weak, the rider is a failure.”
His gaze stopped on Eryx as his eyes grew colder.
“Dragons in Aetherion are predators. They fend for themselves, and they do not rely on us for that. If your lizard is too weak to hunt, then it is not supposed to exist. We do not need or breed failures here. Perhaps that’s why it looks like a dying bird; it’s waiting for a master who knows how to provide for it, even though I have never seen such a scenario.”
A ripple of laughter went through the noble heirs.
“Maybe it’s waiting for someone to finish it off and put it out of its misery, instructor,” a noble commented, patting the thick, muscular neck of his Fire-Drake.
Eryx’s jaw tightened as he looked down at his dragon, whose skin seemed translucent under the sunlight. It stared back at him with its void black eyes.
And at that moment, Eryx realized with a look of horror that his dragon was starving.
“It’s now time for the first duels of the session!” the instructor announced. “Varyn, we will start with you first. Pick an opponent.”
Silence followed as the others exchanged glances, with smirks forming on their lips. The truth was obvious—no one wanted to take him on because they felt he was a waste of time.
Then, a boy exhaled loudly from the back, a bored expression on his face.
“I will take him.”
His name was Cael Brynn. Eryx had heard it being called during the roll call. He was in the mid-tier, and his dragon was a Stoneback. They were neither fast nor elegant, but they were known to be strong and a powerful opponent for someone in the lower tier.
Cael raised a mocking brow at Eryx and his dragon, his gaze moving back to the instructor.
“It won’t take long.”
His statement earned laughter from the crowd, but Eryx didn’t care. He moved to the center of the field where Cael stood waiting with his dragon.
The rules of the duel were simple. The first rider to be subdued would be declared the loser. No one was to be killed.
Eryx looked across the field at Cael’s Stoneback dragon. Its height was thrice the size of his own dragon, with strong shoulders like boulders. Hot steam came from its nostrils as their eyes met, and Eryx quickly lowered his gaze.
His dragon didn’t look intimidating at all. In reality, it looked like a snack.
‘You’re starving, and I’m asking you to fight, but do not die on me,’ he said, down the bond to his dragon.
Even though the instructor had strictly ordered no killing of opponents, the murderous look in Cael’s eyes screamed otherwise, and he was sure no one would care if he or his dragon died because that was what they wanted—study or not.
The instructor raised his hand and dropped it.
“Begin.”
Cael didn’t rush to tackle Eryx immediately; he simply turned towards his dragon and directed it forward with the raise of his chin.
The beast moved like a landslide. Slow at first, then gaining momentum as it moved, the ground shook with each step.
Eryx held his position.
‘Don’t move yet.’
He didn’t know if that thought was his or something else along the bond, but either way, his legs remained rooted to the ground.
The Stoneback lowered its head and charged towards Eryx’s dragon. Using its horn, it flung the dragon in the air. Eryx’s dragon flew in the air and landed on the floor with a thud as it slid.
Eryx felt the pain in his chest like a fist gripping his ribs as he groaned softly, holding his chest. Cael gave him no time to recover, as with one kick, Eryx landed face down on the ground, pieces of rock piercing his skin.
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108
The suppression cuffs dug into Lira's wrists, cold and heavy, blocking the spirit-fire in her veins.Commander Vane marched three paces behind her, one hand resting on the brass pommel of his long blade. Six grey-coated Rift Trackers surrounded them, their lead-lined cloaks moving through the dark, fog-covered trunks of the southern ash-woods.In Vane's left hand, the brass compass glowed in the dim light. Its violet needle pulsed in a steady rhythm that seemed to match every beat of Lira's heart."Focus your mind, girl," Vane growled, his rough voice cutting through the rustling leaves. "If the needle flickers because you're trying to suppress the blood resonance, I'll have my men break your fingers one by one."Lira didn't look back. She kept her chin raised, her eyes cold, and her boots sinking into the wet black soil with every step.Let them hold the brass, Lira thought, her jaw tightening beneath her bruised skin. Let them follow the needle.She knew how the paired-bond compass
107
The Vanguard Academy was silent, save for the rhythmic metallic clicking of the projection array mounted atop the Spire of Order.Thousands of students, nobles, and junior instructors stood shoulder to shoulder across the cold marble plaza. No one spoke or cheered. A suffocating dread hung over the crowd as the massive blue spirit-lens projected the recovered memory crystal's contents onto the white stone face of the central tower.The footage was shaky but clear.It showed the narrow, fog-covered entrance to the Devil’s Trench. It captured the exact moment Lieutenant Vane’s gilded spear snapped like a dry twig. It showed Eryx, barefoot and drenched in blood, his chest covered in jagged scars, taking down twelve fully armed lieutenants with frightening efficiency.Then came the part that made even the hardened third-year instructors turn away in disgust.The lens zoomed in on Drogo. The massive shadow dragon didn't simply kill the marsh drakes. It pinned them against the granite roc
106
The evening wind was cold, leaving the Devil’s Trench in a deadly silence.The six upper-house recruits drinking by the campfire weren’t alone. As the yellow dusk faded into darkness, six more figures dropped from the high cedar canopy, landing in their iron stirrups. Twelve lieutenants in silver-and-crimson cloaks formed a curved wall of steel across the narrow canyon exit, blocking the only path south toward the river delta.Their mid-tier marsh drakes lined the stone ledge, their scaled wings half-spread and their nostrils releasing thin streams of orange spirit-fire into the damp air.The lead lieutenant was a tall, broad-shouldered noble named Vane. He held a gilded dragon-killer spear in his gloved hand and urged his mount three paces forward. His silver breastplate gleamed in the torchlight, free of dents, rust, or blood.“Come out into the light, stray!” Vane shouted, his voice echoing off the granite walls. “We know you’re hiding in the ditch! The Directorate put three hundre
105
For seven days, the routine continued without a break. Every morning, before the yellow mist cleared from the high granite walls, Eryx dragged his broadsword through the narrow, sunless ravines, searching for the oldest and most territorial beasts in the unmapped reaches of the Outer Wilds. He never let Drogo strike first. He wouldn’t let the shadow dragon spread his wings or open his jaws until the steel had done its work.Eryx launched himself from the rock ledges with frightening precision. He severed the tendon of a mountain drake, shattered the jaw plate of an iron-scaled boar, and pinned each beast to the canyon floor with his bare hands and the weight of his broadsword.Only when the creature lay gasping and helpless in the mud would Eryx step back, wiping sweat and blood from his eyes.“Feed,” Eryx rasped, his voice low and firm.Drogo stepped out of the shadows. The dragon didn’t thrash or roar. He lowered his broad snout, clamped his jaws around the beast’s chest, tore out i
104
The cold wind carried the metallic stench of fresh spirit-drake gore. It clung to the damp air and mingled with wet stone.Eryx didn’t lower his broadsword. The cold steel tip remained planted two inches from the center of Drogo’s broad, obsidian-scaled snout. His chest heaved with shallow gasps, every rib aching, but his dark eyes held a desperate focus that did not waver.“Look at me,” Eryx rasped, his rough voice cutting through the canyon breeze. “Look at my eyes, Drogo.”The shadow dragon didn’t move. His dark-violet pupils remained locked on Lira, who stood ten paces back against a jagged wall, her hands clenched over her empty dagger sheaths. She had little room to retreat, and she knew it.Then, slowly, Drogo shifted his massive head back toward his rider.“We set the line again,” Eryx said, his voice dropping into a deliberate growl, carrying what remained of his authority despite his drained spirit-core. “Just like in the lower pens. Right now.”He gripped Drogo’s broad snou
103
Eryx and Lira stood alone amid the wreckage of the Hundred Wings. The basin was covered with the remains of high-house war drakes and shattered vanguard galleys. Iron breastplates lay split across the white soil, and torn reins moved in the damp wind. The bodies were still warm, sending thin plumes of grey mist into the freezing morning air.The wind carried ash across their faces, and every gust stirred the wreckage underfoot. Lira shifted her weight carefully, wincing when the cut on her jaw pulled. Her arms felt heavy from the fight, but she kept watching Eryx. She was too tired to run, and too frightened to turn her back on him. Even the distant sounds of retreat had done little to ease the fear pressing against her ribs.Far above the cloud line, the wild, unbonded dragons that had bowed their heads turned and vanished into the mist, their wings beating in a silent, eerie rhythm.Drogo kept moving.The shadow dragon passed from one fallen war drake to the next with slow, heavy st
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