Page 98 of Black Wing and Shadows
The bell tolled once, low and resonant, carrying across the arena.
The ceremony was about to begin.
The silence deepened until it felt as if the entire world held its breath. From the raised dais, a tall figure stepped forward, the torchlight catching on the pitch-black of his uniform.
My father.
The murmurs in the crowd died instantly. His presence carried across the field like a blade unsheathed, sharp and commanding. He rested one gloved hand on the rail of the platform, his voice carrying easily without the need for amplification.
“Rider Cadets,” he began, his tone clipped but resonant, “today you stand at the threshold of what will define not just your careers, but your lives. Bonding Day is not a pageant. It is not a festival. It is the reckoning of your worth before the Gods, before the Elders, and before the blood of our people.”
His gaze swept the rows of us on the field, pausing as if he could see straight through flesh and bone into the marrow of our souls. I forced myself not to flinch when his eyes caught mine.
“Some of you will rise today,” he continued, his voice tightening, “forging bonds that will carry you through fire and battle. Others fell. Some at the claws of the fliers themselves, others to rivals too weak to claim their own path without stealing yours. Do not expect mercy. There is none here. There is only the truth. And truth does not care if you live or die.”
A hush rippled through the crowd. Beside me, Esme stirred, her silver eyes narrowing as though she tasted the challenge in his words.
Another figure moved forward, broader and less polished but equally commanding. Major General Kamban. He was the one who had harshly reprimanded us for disobedience, bearing his authority with the weight of stone. His voice rang out, less polished than my father’s but just as powerful.
“You heard the General,” Kamban said, his dark eyes sweeping across us. “This is no child’s game. This is blood, sweat, and sacrifice. But make no mistake—those of you who bond today are not just taking on a companion. You are swearing yourself into a pact older than this valley. You will answer to your flier, just as they will answer to you. Fail them, and you fail us all.”
He leaned forward, voice lowering into something almost intimate despite the crowd. “I don’t care if your flier is a dragon, a griffin, or a phoenix. I don’t care if you come from noble blood or from nothing at all. What I care about is whether you prove yourself worthy when the moment comes. Earn your place—or be torn from it.”
The two males stood side by side, different in bearing but united in purpose. The contrast was striking—My father, cold precision honed sharp as steel. Kamban, raw force and unyielding presence.
“Ninety-four of you began this path in August. Some of you believed the hardest trials were behind you. You were wrong. After you stood for judgment, only seventy-nine of you remained.” My father’s voice carried flat and steady, his face unreadable.
A ripple moved through the crowd, but my he pressed on, unrelenting.
“Sixty-eight fliers answered the call—thirty dragons, twenty griffins, eighteen phoenixes. They came not to serve, but to choose. And choose what they did.” His voice lowered, weighed down. “This morning, seventy-two of you walked into Flugblatt. As of now… sixty-six stands here before me,” he carried on.
“You’ve learned the truth today. Bonding is not a ceremony of comfort. It is a crucible. Some of you bear wounds that will scar. Some of you bear losses that will never be filled. But all of you who remain… You will carry bonds now that run deeper than blood,” Kamban said.
He gestured to the fliers behind them, each massive presence a shadow and a promise. “Your fliers chose you not because you were lucky, but because you are worthy. And now, the Gods themselves and the elder council of fliers will bless these bonds. What you gain today will be your strength, your shield, and—if you are wise—your salvation.”
His voice hardened again, sharp as a blade. “But remember, this bond is not a gift. It is a responsibility. Fail your flier, fail your squad, fail your people—and you will not just lose your life. You will damn us all.”
CHAPTER 35
A horn sounded low and deep, the call rolling across the stadium like thunder. The elder fliers perched high above answered with roars, screeches, and cries—dragons, griffins, and phoenixes unleashing their voices in unison until the air itself seemed to tremble.
From the far side of the field, the third- and fourth-year Sorcerers marched in. Robes of dark purple shimmered faintly with runic threads, their hands carrying different iron brands. Each brand glowed faintly, three distinct shapes: one carved with a dragon, another with an eagle's head, and the third a bird with small flames erupting from its wings. Each one found a Rider to stand in front of.
Esme shifted beside me, her scales whispering as she stood tall, silver light flickering faintly in her throat as if she already knew what was coming. My heart was hammering so hard that I thought the entire field could hear it.
General Kamban’s voice boomed out over us, “By the will of the Gods and the blessing of the elders, let the bonds be forged! Riders, unbutton the top of your tunics!”
The bell tolled once and at once, the Sorcerers pressed the brands forward—onto dragon scale, griffin feather, phoenix feather—and then onto Rider flesh.
The pain struck me like lightning. White-hot iron burned through my chest, branding over my heart, as smoke still curled off Esme’s shoulder. I cried out, but my voice was swallowed in the chorus of every Rider and flier screaming, grinding their teeth, enduring together.
And then the world changed.
Light burst from me, silver and sharp, racing over my skin like scales forming out of air itself. At the same instant, Esme blazed beside me, her entire body shimmering like a river of moonlight. The connection roared through me—her heart slamming against mine, her fire rushing in my veins.
When my vision cleared, I saw it.
The cadets around me shimmered in impossible ways—griffin Riders feathered in spectral plumes, phoenix Riders wreathed in red embers, dragon Riders cloaked in faint scales like mine. It was a hidden world, revealed only now that I bore the mark.
