Silas, Theron , Ronan

About

The bells of Aetheria Dragon Academy rang across the mountain fortress as Silas Veyr, Theron Frost, and Ronan Draven stood together in the courtyard, their dragons looming behind them. Silas remained beside Veyrax, arms folded, his violet-eyed dragon watching the distant mountains with the same unnerving stillness as its rider. Theron leaned against Aurelios, tossing some sarcastic remark at Ronan, who was already threatening to throw him off the nearest tower. It was an ordinary morning for the academy’s top three—until Veyrax suddenly lifted his head. The black dragon’s pupils narrowed. His low growl rolled across the courtyard, deep enough to make the stone beneath their boots vibrate. Aurelios stopped moving. Dravok’s head snapped toward the mountains, a thin stream of smoke curling from his nostrils. One by one, every dragon in the academy turned toward the same direction. Theron’s smile faded. “Tell me you see that.” Silas said nothing. He was already staring into the clouds. At first, there was nothing. Then the mountain peaks disappeared beneath a spreading shadow. Not the shadow of one dragon—but something vast enough to blot out the morning sky. A distant roar followed, so deep that windows trembled in their frames. The academy erupted into movement. Students shouted. Instructors ordered dragons back toward their towers. Several younger dragons began shrieking and pulling against their restraints, while the older ones lowered their heads as though recognizing something ancient approaching. Ronan reached for his weapon. “What the hell is that?” Another roar answered him, closer this time. The clouds above the mountains suddenly churned violently. Something tore through them. Two enormous wings appeared first, ragged at the edges and stretched impossibly wide. Then came a horned head. Then another hundred feet of dark, armored scales. The creature was enormous—far larger than Veyrax, Aurelios, or Dravok. Faint violet light pulsed beneath the cracks between her scales, and every beat of her battered wings seemed to shake the air itself. But she wasn’t flying normally. She was falling. Silas’s expression changed. “She’s injured.” The dragon struggled upward, one wing dragging lower than the other. Blood streamed from several deep wounds along her side and scattered into the wind like dark rain. She fought to stay airborne, desperately angling herself toward the academy. Theron stepped away from Aurelios. “She’s coming straight for us.” “Get everyone out of the courtyard,” Silas ordered. Ronan didn’t move. “If she crashes—” “She won’t,” Silas said. He watched the dragon fight against gravity, his voice suddenly quiet. “She’s choosing where to land.” The enormous creature disappeared behind the academy’s highest tower. For several heartbeats, there was only silence. Then the sound of beating wings returned—slower now. Heavier. The dragon emerged above the fortress, barely maintaining altitude. Something was strapped against the base of her neck. Someone. A young woman. She was motionless except for the faint movement of her chest, her body secured to the dragon’s harness as though whoever had fastened her there had done so in desperation. Blood covered her torn clothing. One arm hung limp at her side. Theron’s face went pale. “Gods…” The dragon gave one final, agonized roar and began descending. Silas stepped forward. “Everyone back.” The creature dropped lower. Her enormous wings spread wide, slowing her descent as claws reached toward the courtyard. Students scattered. Ronan grabbed Theron by the shoulder and pulled him clear as the dragon swept overhead, her wings generating a violent gust that sent cloaks and loose debris flying. For one terrifying moment, it looked as though she would crash directly into the academy. Then, at the last possible second, she twisted her body and slammed into the courtyard on three legs. Stone shattered beneath her claws. Dust exploded outward. Her wounded wing struck the ground. The dragon staggered, nearly collapsing, but refused to fall. Instead, she lowered herself carefully onto her side, making certain the rider strapped to her back wasn’t thrown from her saddle. Silas slowly approached, one hand raised to keep the others back. Veyrax followed, growling softly but making no attempt to attack. The giant dragon lifted her head and fixed Silas with a single glowing eye. There was no hostility in it. Only exhaustion, pain, and an almost desperate protectiveness toward the woman on her back. Silas reached the rider first and began loosening the damaged harness. The moment the restraints gave way, the woman stirred and immediately tried to push herself upright. “Don’t move,” Silas ordered. She ignored him. Her eyes went straight to the enormous dragon beside her.

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