Chapter 15 STRENGTH IN UNITY
LYRA
“There is strength in unity,” Madame Cerys recited softly, quoting part of the Academy’s motto. Her voice carried quiet conviction. “We want you to thrive here, Lyra. But we also need to understand how this bond works. You are an anomaly, yes, but a promising one.”
I nodded slowly, pushing down the flutter of nerves that felt suspiciously like butterflies. “I understand. I’ll do my best. Tempest… she already feels important. Like there’s more she wants to tell me.”
Ser Thorian’s gaze sharpened with interest, but he only gave another small nod. “Good. That is exactly the kind of thing we need to know.”
The conversation wrapped up with a few more gentle instructions, 'report any difficulties immediately, attend all scheduled sessions, and remember that the Academy was now my home'.
Madame Cerys dismissed me with another warm smile, and Ser Thorian escorted me back into the corridor.
As we walked, the uneasy feeling lingered, but I forced myself to breathe steadily. Everything I had ever wanted was unfolding right in front of me. A dragon, a place at the Academy, a future in the skies. I wouldn’t let nerves or whatever this watchful attention meant ruin it.
I am a rider now and I was going to prove I belonged here.
I kept my hands clasped tightly in front of me, violet curls from my ponytail brushing against my neck with every step. The meeting had been polite, welcoming, even but the undercurrent lingered like static before a storm.
An anomaly. Tempest had never been tamed. Ser Thorian would be watching. Report everything. There is strength in unity.
I wanted to believe it. I needed to believe it. Everything I had risked, everything I had dreamed of in that dusty attic, was unfolding. Yet the watchful eyes of the Academy felt heavier than the rules themselves.
Ser Thorian glanced back once, his expression unreadable. “You did well in there, Miss Voss. Headmistress Cerys does not extend personal welcomes lightly.”
“Thank you,” I murmured, forcing my voice steady. “I just… I didn’t expect any of this. The bond with Tempest happened so fast.”
He gave a short nod, boots echoing crisply on the stone. “Few expect the storm when it chooses them. Walk carefully, rider. Tempest’s power is not gentle.”
We reached the main corridor where students still milled about, collecting their new uniforms from a side chamber. The air buzzed with chatter and the rustle of fresh leather. Yvaine waited near the entrance, her short black hair tousled as she shifted from foot to foot. When she spotted me, relief washed over her face.
“Lyra!” She hurried over, falling into step beside me as Ser Thorian gave a brief nod and continued on his way. “What happened? You looked like you’d seen a ghost when they called your name.”
I let out a long breath, shoulders dropping a fraction now that we were alone again. “Madame Cerys wanted to welcome me personally. Said bonding with Tempest at my age was unprecedented. They’re assigning Ser Thorian to… keep an eye on my progress. Because no one’s ever really tamed her before.”
Yvaine’s eyes widened. “Ser Thorian? Kai’s father? That’s… intense. But it makes sense. Storm dragons are legends for a reason, wild, unpredictable, full of raw lightning and wind. My grandparents used to tell stories about them scorching training fields when riders pushed too hard.”
We joined the line for uniforms, the scent of oiled leather and fresh stitching growing stronger. Tailors moved efficiently, measuring new riders with quick, practiced hands. When my turn came, a stern woman with measuring tape draped around her neck took one look at my borrowed clothes and clucked her tongue.
“Eighteen and already causing ripples,” she muttered, but there was no real bite in it. She wrapped the tape around my shoulders, waist, and arms, nodding approvingly at my build. “You’ll need reinforced seams here and here, storm riders tend to take harder knocks from the wind shear. And that hair…” She eyed my violet ponytail with a faint smile. “Keep it tied back during flights, or it’ll blind you in a gale.”
I laughed softly, the sound loosening some of the tension in my chest.
“I’m learning that the hard way.”
Minutes later, I emerged with a bundle of new clothes: sleek black leather trousers, a fitted tunic with silver embroidery that echoed the wing motifs I’d seen on Cassius and Kai, reinforced boots, and a cloak lined with lightweight padding.
The material felt supple yet sturdy, nothing like the scratchy borrowed uniform. I changed quickly in a small side room, the leather hugging my frame with surprising comfort. When I stepped out, Yvaine whistled low.
“Look at you. Proper rider now. The violet hair against the black? Dramatic. Tempest’s going to love it.”
I ran a hand over the tunic, feeling the subtle enchantments woven into the seams, cooling threads for high, altitude flights, strengthening runes along the shoulders. For the first time since landing, a pure, unfiltered wave of excitement crashed over me.
I was wearing the uniform. I belonged here, at least on paper.
“Come on,” Yvaine said, linking her arm through mine. “Let’s drop your things in the dorm and head to the training fields. New riders are supposed to check in with their dragons before evening meal. You can introduce me to Tempest properly.”
The walk back to our room passed in comfortable conversation. Yvaine shared stories about her own early days, how Ember had singed her eyebrows on their first flight, how she still woke up some nights feeling phantom heat along her bond.
I told her about the wind tearing through my hair during that first ascent, the way the world had looked so small and yet so vast from above. My violet curls bounced freely now, no longer hidden, and every glance in a passing reflective surface made me stand a little taller.
Our dorm felt more like home already. I placed the spare uniform neatly in the wardrobe and tucked my old clothes away, the contrast between the crisp Academy gear and my worn market trousers stark.
Yvaine flopped onto her bed for a moment, staring at the ceiling.