Page 99 of Black Wing and Shadows
Esme’s voice echoed steady and proud in my head,“Do you feel it? This is our shimmer. Only the bonded may see it. In battle, when fear threatens to break you, call it forth. It will harden. It will become armor, no fire, no steel, no claws can pierce, but it is only on your arms and frontal chest, so you’re still exposed.”
I pressed my palm against my scorched chest, trembling, but I wasn’t afraid. For the first time, I felt whole. Esme’s silver fire pulsed with mine, and I knew—whatever came next, neither of us would ever stand alone again.
The burn on my chest persisted, but it felt less like pain and more like something alive. The mark throbbed in time with Esme’s heartbeat, each pulse blending into mine until I couldn’t distinguish where hers ended and mine started.
Silver shimmer rippled faintly over my skin like scales unfurling in light. I raised my hand, staring in disbelief as it flickered across my arm, shifting and vanishing like a mirage. It was real. It was part of me now.
Esme exhaled, a low rumble that vibrated through the ground beneath my boots. Her silver shimmer rolled across her body, layering over her scales like armor made of starlight. My chest clenched, because she wasn’t only beautiful—she was terrifying, and she was mine.
“Now you see,”her voice curled through my thoughts, steady and sure.“The shimmer is not for them. It is for us. Only the bonded may know it, onlywe may wield it. If you are in extreme distress, it will take over. The first time the armor hardens, it will feel quite unique.”
I closed my fist against my chest, where the mark still burned faintly, and drew a shuddering breath. “I feel you everywhere,” I whispered.
“As it should be.”
And in that moment, with the shimmer humming at my skin and Esme’s pulse echoing through my own, I knew the bond wasn’t only forged—it was unbreakable.
The stadium was alive with glimmer. Now that I bore the mark over my heart, the shimmer was no longer invisible. I could see it everywhere—threading through the other Riders like threads of magic stitched into their skin.
To my left, one of the griffin Riders bared his chest proudly. His shimmer took the shape of overlapping golden feathers, each one edged in copper light. The shimmer reminded me of the griffin at his side—sharp-eyed, predatory, glorious. Farther down, a phoenix Rider laughed with tears in his eyes, his shimmer burning across his chest in fiery plumes that curled and shifted as if they were alive. Behind him, his phoenix shook out its wings, and for a breath the two were mirrors—flame and fire, Rider and flier.
And the dragons—gods, the dragons. Scales shimmered across Rider after Rider, each set distinct. Vibrant reds like little flames, grey scales that gleamed like hammered shields, obsidian black that seemed to swallow the light whole. No two were alike, yet each reflected the essence of the dragon they belonged to.
I pressed my hand over my own chest again, where the spiral of silver-blue still tingled faintly. My shimmer spread from that mark outward in subtle layers of small, delicate scales, silver with faint veins of starlight-blue threading through them. They didn’t blaze like the phoenix fire or gleam like gold feathers, but they pulsed with quiet light, almost liquid, shifting like moonlight over water.
I looked back at Esme. She lifted her head, silver eyes fixed on me. Her scales, still small, gleamed with youth, not yet hardened to armor.She blinked slow, deliberate. Light rippled over her hide, and my chest tightened—the shimmer on my own skin matched hers.
The sight held me. Captivated. Thrilled. Stunned. My breath caught, the thought repeating, circling—the same shimmer, the same light. Mine. Hers. Ours.
“See?”Her voice hummed in my head, calm and sure.“You carry me with you. My scales are yours now, as yours are mine. That is what it means to be bound.”
I exhaled slowly, feeling my heart hammer under my palm. For the first time since stepping onto the field, I didn’t feel small, or wounded, or unworthy.
I felt… claimed.
The shimmer still tingled across my chest when the two generals rose to their feet again. The stadium quieted instantly, thousands of cadets holding their breath as my father and Major General Kamban stepped to the edge of the stage.
General Kamban’s voice carried, sharp and commanding. “Today, you are Riders, albeit still a cadet for another three and a half years. Your bonds have been recognized by the Gods, sealed by the elders, and now you carry the mark of your fliers as proof. From this day forward, your lives are not your own—they belong to the bond you swore to uphold.”
My father stepped forward, his shadow long under the winter sun. His gaze swept the field of Riders, his tone quieter but no less powerful. “Do not mistake this for triumph alone. Bonds demand sacrifice, vigilance, and a loyalty greater than anything else in this world. Many of you will not live to see the end of your service. But those who do will be legends.”
A ripple of unease—and pride—moved through the field. My chest tightened, not only from the brand but from the way his words cut like steel.
As if on cue, the air split with a thunderous roar. The elder dragons wheeled high above the stadium, their wings blotting out the pale light. Their cries rolled over us like storms breaking against the mountainside,answered by the shrill calls of phoenixes and the piercing screeches of griffins below.
Esme’s head lifted, silver eyes following the elders. Her chest expanded with a sharp, low sound, not quite a roar but something more profound—like a vow. The fliers were surely talking amongst themselves.
The elders dipped their wings, and one by one, the dragons began to rise. Massive wings churned the air as they lifted back into the winter sky, their silhouettes growing smaller with each powerful stroke. Griffins leapt skyward next, golden and black shapes glinting against the clouds, their screeches trailing like echoes. Phoenixes followed last, erupting into bursts of fire before disappearing into the forest air, embers scattering in their wake.
As they departed, the ground trembled, and the stadium was soon only filled with the faint glow of lingering bonds and the overwhelming silence of thousands watching them disappear. The field was now empty, once alive with wings and fire, but now it lay bare, with flattened grass in wide arcs where dragons, griffins, and phoenixes had stood. The silence felt even heavier, as if the air itself was healing from what had just happened.
Cadets gathered in tight groups, most excited from victory. My squad stayed close, the circle smaller than it should’ve been without Jackson. We had all survived, but that didn’t erase the sense of loss. Esme’s absence weighed on me—back with the other fliers in the vale, her voice was now soft and distant, like a fading memory at the edges of my mind. I already missed her presence beside me, though the warmth of the brand on my chest reminded me she was still with me.
I should feel lighter, proud. Instead, my shoulders tensed when the crowd shifted. Cadets made way instinctively, a ripple of silence spreading as two males approached the center of the field.
General Kamban peeled off toward the other instructors, his booming voice carrying as he dismissed groups with crisp efficiency. The other figure, though—he came straight toward me.
My father.
