Page 97 of Black Wing and Shadows
“The little silver, named Esme.”
“That’s fantastic, but she is so much smaller.”
“Yeah, she has some growing to do,” I shot her a wink.
I continued down through all the fliers, a few griffins down, and Michalova stood in front of a black griffin that faded into a beautiful gold. He waved his hand at me to come to him.
“Hey! Nice griffin! It’s good to see you, my Flight Guide counterpart,” I said.
He gave me a wry smile that instantly made my stomach turn. “I saw Jackson get teamed up against, and he went down. One of the dragons incinerated him, I am pretty sure out of mercy, as he wasn’t moving.”
My heart started racing, my stomach in complete knots.
Gods.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Not another one on our squad. My eyes began to well up with tears. I took a deep breath, telling myself to maintain my composure. There were way too many Riders on this field, and too many of those weren’t fans of me.
“Thanks for letting me know.” He gave me a nod before I continued on.
I saw Electric’s second squad, Vida, standing in front of a mid-size grey dragon, as well as Erik standing in front of a red dragon. Towards the end of the line, I saw Jameson in front of a mid-size phoenix. That accounted for all of Michalova’s flight and only left Akira for ours and for all of the Electric platoon.
I headed back toward Esme to wait out the remaining afternoon, eager to spot Akira sooner rather than later. The winter sun sank lower in the gray sky, suggesting it was around fourteen hundred hours. All Riders needed to return by fifteen-thirty. During this period, the bell tolls paused for multiple reasons. First, they forced us to depend on our training to estimate the sun’s position. The first bell to toll after we entered the dense forest signaled that cadets had thirty minutes to reach the stadium and check in. It would toll again at the thirty-minute mark to indicate thedeadline had arrived. Any cadet still alive and not bonded to a flier faced reassignment to Infantry.
I made my way back to Esme and sat down, leaning against her warm shoulder. She was still resting but kept watch of the bustling flight field. I looked into the expansive sky, observing colorful dragons, graceful griffins, and majestic phoenixes soaring overhead to land in the lively courtyard. I couldn’t see most of the Riders because their large flier blocked my view. The few I caught performing sharp, impressive banks, I didn’t recognize the Riders.
The bell tolled fifteen times, marking it as fifteen hundred. A jolt of nerves shot through my stomach. I hated losing another squadmate. Our flight had already shrunk to five after Jackson's absence. The only comfort was that during the past thirty minutes, several fliers had arrived, and she might be in the courtyard waiting to identify herself and her Rider. Every few minutes, another flier and Rider walked through the gates of the flight field. My eyes tracked each one with cautious anticipation.
Black dragon, black-gold griffin, grey dragon, phoenix—none of the Riders were Akira.
A large yellow-gold dragon started walking to the flight field, and next to her was the familiar, beautiful face of Akira. Thank the Gods. She passed by, giving me a big smile. I mirrored her back, flashing a large grin. Peace settled within. I let go of the deep breath I was holding.
I hadn’t seen any more fliers pass by in a little while, and the Riders coming through the gate were slowing down considerably. Based on the sun and when the last bell tolled, it should be—
DONGGGGGGGGGG. DONGGGGGGGGGGG.
Long dongs spilled through the air, indicating that no more fliers could fly into the field, and the bonding ceremony would be starting soon.
***
“Hey, I’ve got news.”By the way, all the other Riders on the field perked up. All of their fliers were also telling them something.“When the bell tolls again, the ceremony will start. Leaders played rock, paper, scissors—and have determined the order. Dragon Wing’s four Flight Guides will go through the gate first. Then Feather Wing’s, which means it will be you, Michalova Sulivar, Laderra Holmes, and Aeltharion Gaglonda, in that order. Eagle Wing will be the tail. We will go in and stand below the stage. It will be tight in there with all the fliers. The dragons know they need to keep their wings tucked, as they are generally the largest. The rest of the cadets will come in a neat and orderly manner, starting with those closest to the gate.”
She pulled her legs inward and stood completely upright. All the Riders shifted their feet anxiously. The fliers appeared nervous as well. This part of the ceremony was a remarkably sacred moment when the Gods and elder dragons blessed their bonds. We wore distinct marks that connected us to our fliers, solidifying our relationships. Some of us gained new magical abilities, others acquired powerful new abilities, even if we didn’t know it yet. The bell tolled sixteen times. It was time.
The four Dragon Wing Flight Guides and their fliers led the way beneath the arch, their steps echoing against the cold stone as though the world itself held its breath. I fell in line behind them, Esme’s shimmering silver scales catching the muted winter light. Her head was slightly lowered, wings tucked close to her body, making her appear smaller than she was. Behind me, I heard Michalova’s griffin’s talons clicking steadily against the stone, each step measured and sure.
The space beyond unfolded in breathtaking scale. The stadium spread out like a carved amphitheater, massive stone walls curving in a circle. Thousands of cadets from every branch filled the tiered seating, their uniforms a wash of disciplined color. They sat in rows upon rows, rising thirteen levels high, separated by the branching stone staircases that divided the sections. Their eyes followed us—some curious, some reverent, some openly envious.
At the far end, opposite the gate, the stage rose above the field. Leadership sat in high-backed chairs carved from dark stone, elevated sothat every gaze in the arena fell toward them. The weight of their presence pressed heavier than the crowd’s. Generals, Elders, and the council of fliers themselves watched, their faces unreadable masks.
We moved onto the broad, flat expanse of the field itself, fliers finding their places in neat lines. Dragons shifted their massive bodies with disciplined care, griffins folded their wings tightly, and phoenixes glowed faintly in the dim light, as though their feathers drank in anticipation. All of us were standing directly in front of our fliers, between their legs. They towered over each of us.
One by one, the remaining cadets filed through the gates, a relentless stream of boots, talons, wings, and feathers. The air was thick with the scents of scale and ash, oil and leather, feathers and smoke. Every cadet wore the same expression—nerves honed into resolve, eyes fixed ahead, each step a silent promise. By the time the last group entered, the stadium floor was packed from edge to edge, the sound of breathing and shifting wings loud beneath the silence of the crowd.
