Chapter 13 MADAME CERYS
LYRA
The assembly hall buzzed with nervous energy as Yvaine and I slipped through the heavy oak doors. Sunlight streamed through tall, narrow windows set high in the stone walls, painting long golden stripes across rows of wooden benches.
The ceiling soared overhead, painted with a swirling mural of dragons in flight, some breathing fire, others wrapped in storms, all of them majestic and untouchable. The air carried the mingled scents of polished wood, fresh ink from the orientation scrolls, and the faint ozone that seemed to cling to every rider in the building.
Hundreds of new riders already filled the seats, some chatting in excited whispers, others sitting stiffly with their hands clasped in their laps. A few glanced my way as we entered, curious stares that lingered on my violet ponytail. For the first time, I didn’t shrink from the attention.
The color felt bold today, like it had finally found its rightful place.
Yvaine nudged my elbow and steered us toward an empty spot near the middle of a row. “Here’s good. Not too close to the front where they can see you fidgeting, not too far back where you miss everything important.”
We settled onto the smooth bench. The wood was cool beneath my thighs, still warm from the afternoon sun. My heart hadn’t stopped its steady drum since the Choosing, and sitting here made everything feel suddenly, overwhelmingly real.
I was inside the Academy, a rider. Bonded to Tempest.
Yvaine leaned closer, her voice low and conspiratorial. “Try not to look like you’re about to bolt. You’re allowed to be here now. Sort of.”
I let out a shaky laugh. “Easy for you to say. You didn’t sneak in at eighteen with the most unpredictable dragon in centuries.”
Before she could reply, a hush fell over the hall. Two figures stepped onto the raised platform at the front. The first was a tall woman with silver-streaked dark hair pinned in an elegant knot, her posture straight as a blade. She wore deep crimson robes trimmed with silver embroidery that caught the light.
Beside her stood a broad-shouldered man with salt and pepper hair and a commanding presence, Ser Thorian Stormridge, Kai’s father and one of the most legendary riders alive.
Madame Cerys raised her hands, and the last murmurs died away. “Welcome, new riders,” she began, her voice clear and resonant, carrying effortlessly to every corner of the hall. “Today marks the beginning of your journey at Aetherwind Academy. You have been chosen by dragons, and that bond is both a gift and a grave responsibility.”
Ser Thorian stepped forward, his deep voice rumbling like distant thunder. “We expect excellence. Discipline. Loyalty. The skies are not forgiving, and neither are we.”
They launched into the rules without preamble. Madame Cerys spoke first, listing expectations with calm authority. No using powers against one another outside the designated training grounds.
No riding dragons beyond the Academy’s boundaries except on approved assignments.
Every word landed with weight, and I felt each one settle heavily in my chest. Then came the most important rule. Madame Cerys’s gaze swept the room, serious and unyielding. “Above all else, there will be no romantic entanglements between riders. The bond you share with your dragon is sacred and deeply emotional. Personal feelings, especially romantic ones, can bleed into that connection, clouding judgment, heightening emotions during flight, and endangering both rider and dragon. We have seen promising careers end in tragedy because riders forgot this boundary. Respect the rule. Protect your dragon. Protect each other.”
A ripple of nervous murmurs passed through the seats. I kept my face carefully neutral, but my mind flashed to Kai’s green eyes in the market, the way Cassius had held my hand earlier, the strange flutter I’d pushed down. I swallowed hard. Friends. That was safe, that was allowed.
Ser Thorian continued, his tone firm but not unkind. “These rules exist for your survival. Break them at your peril. Expulsion is not an idle threat, it is a mercy compared to what the skies can do to the unprepared.”
The lecture stretched on, covering class schedules, curfews, respect for the dragons’ roosts, and the importance of daily bond work. My attention wavered only when two familiar figures were called to the front.
Cassius and Kai stepped onto the platform.
Both wore the full Academy uniform, sleek black leather reinforced at the shoulders and elbows, embroidered with silver thread that formed subtle wing patterns. The material looked supple yet strong, perfectly tailored to their frames.
Cassius moved with easy confidence, flashing a charming smile at the crowd. Kai stood straighter, more reserved, his black hair neatly pushed back, green eyes scanning the room with quiet intensity.
Cassius spoke first, gesturing to his own gear. “This is what you’ll all be wearing by tomorrow. The leather is treated with protective enchantments, lightweight, weather-resistant, and strong enough to withstand a storm dragon’s sparks.”
He turned slightly, showing the reinforced seams and the way the tunic allowed full range of motion. “Study the fit. Respect the craftsmanship. It may save your life one day.”
Kai took over, his voice steady and clear. “Follow the rules. Study hard. Train harder. The Academy does not tolerate recklessness. Riders are not permitted outside the walls except for special assignments. The world beyond these grounds is dangerous, and your dragons are not toys for joyrides.”
His gaze swept the hall, and suddenly locked onto mine. For a heartbeat, everything else faded. Those green eyes held mine with a spark of something warm and teasing.
Then, quick as lightning, Kai winked.