Chapter Two – Ashes in the Wind
**
The wind tore at Kael’s breath as the dragon climbed higher.
Cloud swallowed them whole—cold, blinding, endless. For one sickening moment, Kael felt weightless, as though the sky itself had dropped away beneath him. His fingers dug into the ridged scales at the dragon’s neck. They were warm despite the altitude, pulsing faintly, like a living forge beneath stone.
Below, horns continued to sound.
Distant now.
But relentless.
The dragon angled its wings, slicing through the clouds. Sunlight burst around them, brilliant and white. Kael squinted as the world opened—forest shrinking to dark patches, the river glinting like shattered glass.
“I don’t even know your name!” he shouted into the wind.
For a moment there was only the rhythmic thunder of wings.
Then, inside his mind—
Vaeryn.
The name carried weight. Age. Memory.
“I’m Kael.”
A pause.
I know.
That sent a chill through him that the wind could not.
They flew north toward the mountain range that divided the empire from the wild lands beyond. The peaks were jagged spears of stone capped with snow, ancient and unforgiving. No roads crossed them. No armies marched there.
At least, not anymore.
Kael risked another glance down.
Smoke rose in thin columns from the forest where he had unleashed the fire. Guilt twisted in his stomach.
“Did I hurt anyone?” he asked.
Vaeryn’s answer was measured.
Those who hunted you fled.
“That’s not what I asked.”
Silence stretched.
Fire obeyed you. It did not consume beyond your will.
Kael swallowed. He wasn’t sure that was true. The power had felt alive—protective, yes—but vast. Wild.
“You came because of me,” he said quietly.
You called.
“I didn’t mean to.”
Intent is not required for awakening.
Awakening.
The word echoed.
The captain had recognized it instantly. Dragon-blood. As if she had been waiting for proof.
“How many of us are there?” Kael asked.
The dragon’s wings beat steadily.
Few.
“That’s not an answer.”
A faint ripple of emotion brushed his thoughts—something like sorrow.
The blood thins with each generation. Many never awaken. Many are found first.
Kael’s chest tightened. “Found?”
Taken. Studied. Broken. Used.
The words struck like hammer blows.
“The empire is experimenting on them?”
The empire fears extinction.
“They killed your kind.”
Yes.
No denial. No embellishment.
Just truth.
The mountains loomed closer.
Vaeryn dipped lower, skimming along a ridgeline where snow clung to black stone. Wind howled between the peaks like a living thing.
Kael spotted movement below—dark figures on horseback threading along a narrow pass.
Imperial colors.
“They’re already here,” he breathed.
They search always.
Vaeryn banked sharply, disappearing into a veil of mist that clung to the mountain’s western face. Kael’s heart pounded as rock walls closed around them. A hidden ravine opened below—deep, shadowed, invisible from above.
Vaeryn folded its wings.
They dropped.
Kael’s stomach lurched into his throat.
At the last second, the dragon snapped its wings wide and slowed their descent, landing heavily on a wide stone ledge carved into the mountain itself.
The impact rattled Kael’s bones.
He slid awkwardly down Vaeryn’s side, boots hitting solid ground.
The air here felt different.
Thicker.
Warmer.
A cavern mouth yawned before them, enormous and dark. Strange markings were etched into the surrounding stone—curved lines and jagged symbols worn by time.
Kael stared.
“This is home?”
One of them.
Vaeryn stepped inside.
After a hesitant breath, Kael followed.
The cavern opened into a vast chamber lit not by torches, but by veins of glowing crystal embedded in the walls. Soft amber light reflected off ancient stone pillars shaped like spiraling flames.
At the center of the chamber lay something that stole the air from his lungs.
Bones.
Massive. Curved. Arranged with reverence.
A dragon’s skeleton rested upon a raised dais of black stone.
Kael approached slowly.
The skull alone was larger than a carriage, horns sweeping back in an elegant arc. The ribcage formed a cathedral of ivory.
“Is this…” His voice felt small.
Eldros.
There was no need to explain further. The name carried grief.
“The last dragon,” Kael whispered.
Vaeryn’s golden eyes dimmed.
The last they saw die.
Kael turned sharply. “You mean—”
A low rumble echoed from deeper within the mountain.
Not Vaeryn.
Another.
He stiffened.
From a tunnel to the right, a shape emerged—sleeker, smaller than Vaeryn, with scales the color of burnished copper. Its eyes were sharp and assessing.
It stopped when it saw him.
A hiss rippled through the chamber.
He is human.
The voice was sharper, feminine, edged with suspicion.
Vaeryn stepped slightly in front of Kael.
He is blood.
The copper dragon’s gaze narrowed.
Prove it.
Kael blinked. “Prove—how exactly do I do that?”
The copper dragon advanced a step. Heat radiated from her body, not violent like his earlier flames—but controlled. Refined.
Call the Ember.
Kael looked to Vaeryn.
“I don’t know how.”
You do.
Frustration sparked in his chest. “That’s not helpful.”
The copper dragon’s tail lashed against the stone.
If he cannot awaken willingly, he endangers us.
The words stung more than they should have.
“I didn’t ask to be hunted,” Kael snapped. “Or to have whatever this is inside me.”
The chamber grew still.
Vaeryn’s gaze never left him.
Anger feeds it.
Kael exhaled sharply.
“Fine.”
He closed his eyes.
Remember.
The forge. The heat. The way fire had felt like breath in his lungs.
Not rage.
Belonging.
He focused on the warmth deep in his chest.
It flickered.
Soft at first.
Then brighter.
Heat spread along his arms—not burning, but radiant. When he opened his eyes, faint golden light traced the veins beneath his skin.
The copper dragon inhaled sharply.
The air around Kael shimmered.
Flames did not explode outward this time.
They rose slowly from his shoulders—translucent, curling upward like spectral wings.
Not destructive.
Beautiful.
The chamber’s crystals glowed in answer.
The skeleton of Eldros seemed to hum.
The copper dragon lowered her head slightly.
Ember-born, she murmured.
The flames faded as exhaustion swept through him. Kael staggered, catching himself on one knee.
Vaeryn moved closer, shielding him.
His awakening is recent.
The copper dragon studied Kael with a different expression now.
Not suspicion.
Calculation.
The empire will not ignore this.
“I figured that out when they tried to chain me,” Kael muttered.
Vaeryn turned toward the cavern entrance.
Far beyond, faint and distant, a tremor echoed through the mountains.
Not thunder.
Siege engines.
Kael’s blood ran cold.
“They followed us.”
No, Vaeryn replied.
Another tremor shook dust from the ceiling.
They were already coming.
The copper dragon’s eyes burned brighter.
Then the war begins sooner than we hoped.
Kael rose slowly, staring between them.
“War?”
Vaeryn’s gaze locked onto his.
You are not the only bloodline awakening.
Another distant boom echoed through the peaks.
Kael felt the Ember stir in his chest again—not in fear.
In answer.
The empire believed dragons were relics.
They were about to learn otherwise.
