"Once I call out your name, come toward the stage," the Admiral announced, his voice carrying easily across the courtyard. "An officer will take your group and explain what is expected of you over the next two years."

  Soren shifted his weight slightly, his eyes fixed on the stage—but his mind drifted for a moment.He remembered a day back at school, something like a career fair—but tailored for those interested in joining the Steorra Guard. The students had been asked to fill out forms with basic information: their skills, aspirations, and a brief profile of their Ajaiyi.

  This must’ve been what it was for.

  The Admiral continued, his expression showing every bit of command he possessed.

  "The Guard you are assigned to today will act as your mentor for the remainder of your training. Their guidance will shape your future, so use their knowledge wisely."

  He reached into a satchel and pulled out a large scroll, the parchment unfurling dramatically in his hands.

  "Now—let us begin."

  And with that, he began to call names, his voice steady and clipped as Cadets stepped forward one by one.

  After several minutes of Cadets stepping forward and being guided away by higher-ranking Guards, a familiar name rang out from the stage.

  "Keta Clanshield."

  The young girl perked up immediately."Guess it’s my turn," she said, glancing back at the boys. "I’ll catch you guys during downtime, yeah?"

  Soren gave her a nod, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth."Yeah, for sure. We’ll catch you later."

  With Elora perched comfortably on her shoulder, Keta made her way toward the stage, disappearing into the growing group of Cadets gathering below it.

  Soren and Zeph took a moment to observe the others joining her. Roughly ten Cadets had gathered so far, each one accompanied by an Ajaiyi similar in size to the Kitsune—small, agile, and clearly suited for speed or stealth.

  It became obvious that the groups were being sorted by ability—Cadets with similar strengths and Ajaiyi types grouped together for focused training.

  Time continued to slip by as the crowd in the courtyard slowly thinned, one name at a time. Cadets were called, met their assigned officers, and disappeared beyond a gate, their Ajaiyi close at their sides.

  Eventually, Jarath’s name was called, and with a smug glance over his shoulder, he made his way to the stage. His usual group of lackeys followed, along with a few others, all with that same confident swagger.

  More names. More departures.

  Until only three Cadets remained.

  Soren. Zeph. And a girl they hadn’t spoken to yet.

  The Admiral rolled up the scroll with slow precision and tucked it beneath his arm before turning his gaze to the remaining trio.

  "You three will be our final group," he said, his voice firm but with a hint of intrigue. "Each of you is bonded to some of the rarest Ajaiyi known. Two Dragons… and a Vata."

  Soren and Zeph instinctively turned to their right, eyes locking onto the girl standing quietly beside them.

  She was calm, composed—and beside her stood a creature unlike any they’d seen before.

  The Vata.

  The creature beside the girl had the sleek, powerful build of a feline. But its head was something else entirely—sharply beaked and crowned with a crest that resembled a bird of prey, regal and dangerous.

  Its dark body was streaked with feathers of orange and yellow, the colors shifting like flames as it moved. The long, flowing tail feathers trailing behind it only added to the illusion, making it look as though the Vata were wreathed in fire.

  It stood nearly as tall as Rayzil, and Soren couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if those two ever went toe to toe.

  Before his thoughts could wander further, the Admiral spoke again.

  "Because you three are bonded to more unique Ajaiyi, you require training from someone who understands the weight of that responsibility."He turned slightly, gesturing toward the woman approaching."Colonel Larka Trueblight—and her Ajaiyi, Kroz—will be your mentors."

  A deep, mechanical groaning filled the air as the heavy doors to the right of the stage began to open, chains clanking and creaking with a sound that settled in their bones.

  From the shadowed doorway emerged a middle-aged woman in a crisp navy military uniform. Her arms were clasped behind her back, her head held high, and every step radiated discipline. Her short brown hair was starting to show streaks of gray, hinting at years of experience rather than age alone.

  She approached the three remaining Cadets with measured precision. When she stopped in front of them, her blue eyes locked onto each one in turn—piercing, unreadable, and heavy with command.

  "Cadets," Colonel Larka began, her voice sharp and unwavering. "You will address me as Colonel or Ma’am during your time here. I am your superior, and I expect to be treated as such. Am I clear?"

  All three Cadets snapped to attention.

  "Yes, ma’am!" they answered in unison.

  She gave a firm nod, seemingly satisfied.

  "I will be training the Veisha in hand-to-hand combat and teaching you how to deepen your bond with your Ajaiyi. Kroz will be instructing your Ajaiyi in kind—combat, coordination, and restraint."

  Soren glanced around, suddenly aware of the absence of the second figure. His eyes scanned the area, but there was no sign of an Ajaiyi.

  Unable to keep the question in, he asked, "Where exactly is this Kroz?"

  Zeph’s eyes widened, and he smacked Soren on the arm, hard.

  Soren winced, quickly correcting himself."Uh—Ma’am! Where is Kroz, ma’am?"

  Colonel Larka fixed him with a cold glare, her eyes narrowing just slightly.

  She didn’t say anything, just stared.

  Then, with a faint, almost imperceptible smirk, she turned away.

  He’d learn.They all would.

  But before the Colonel could respond, the ground trembled beneath their feet.

  A low, rumbling thud echoed through the courtyard, followed by another—and another.Everyone instinctively braced themselves, eyes turning toward the open doors behind the Colonel.

  From the shadows, a massive scaled foot stepped forward, landing heavily against the stone. The creature’s thick, muscular legs emerged into the light, each step exuding weight and power.

  Then came the forearms, long and powerful, ending in claws that looked like they could tear through stone. The sunlight gleamed off the sharp edges of natural armor running down its back.

  Soren’s eyes widened as the rest of the creature came into view.

  Towering before them was the very thing he’d hoped would be here—a Ngari.

  This one was a striking blend of red and white, its body marked by interlocking armored plates that ran down its neck and spine like layered scales of metal. From its massive skull, two large horns jutted forward with a slight curve, looking built for both offense and intimidation.

  Its long, muscular tail dragged behind it, slow and deliberate—easily thick enough to knock both Dragons off their feet.

  The courtyard fell silent, the air heavy with awe.

  Kroz came to a stop just behind Colonel Larka, his massive frame casting a long shadow across the courtyard. His burning eyes swept over the three Ajaiyi before him—Rayzil, Nercostes, and the blazing Vata—studying each of them with the weight of experience.

  Then he spoke.

  His deep, resonant voice rolled across the courtyard like distant thunder.

  "You three will be training under me," he said, tone flat but powerful. "Prepare to train until you can hardly move. I’ve served in this Guard longer than any of you have been alive. And through that training, you will unlock abilities you've never even dreamed of."

  A beat passed, his gaze narrowing ever so slightly.

  "But it will never be easy."

  At that final word, Kroz cast a sharp side glance toward the Dragons, his expression unreadable—but heavy with unspoken meaning.

  Soren felt a chill creep down his spine.

  He remembered the rumors—quiet whispers passed among those fascinated with Ajaiyi lore. Whispers about the uneasy history between Dragons and Ngari.

  Soren didn’t say a word.

  But in the back of his mind, one thought lingered:

  Would they learn the truth about those rumors?

  The Admiral descended from the stage with slow, measured steps, stopping beside Colonel Larka. His eyes briefly scanned the three Cadets before he spoke.

  "I trust their development is in good hands, Colonel?"

  Larka scoffed, not bothering to mask her confidence.

  "Of course, Admiral. They’ll be your finest soldiers by the time they graduate."

  The Admiral gave a single, approving nod before turning to the Cadets. His gaze lingered just long enough to add pressure without words. But what shocked the most was the smile that crept to his face. He slowly nodded before turning and walking away.

  Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

  A beat later, the sky erupted with an ear-splitting screech. All three Cadets instinctively looked up as Palio, the Admiral’s Quilstream, launched into the sky, wings slicing through the air like blades. The great avian Ajaiyi vanished into the clouds in seconds, leaving only silence—and awe—in its wake.

  A sharp clearing of the throat snapped their attention back to earth.

  Colonel Larka raised a brow, her tone clipped and expectant.

  "Alright, Cadets. Introduce yourselves. Ajaiyi, you will follow once your Veisha has concluded."

  Soren took a steadying breath, stepping forward with a confidence that didn’t quite cover the butterflies in his chest.

  "My name is Soren Skymark, and I am from Prodon."

  Colonel Larka’s brow arched, and Soren immediately realized his mistake.

  "Ma’am," he added quickly, straightening his posture.

  She stared at him for a beat, the silence heavy, before finally moving on.

  Behind him, Rayzil stepped forward, her voice smooth but carrying the slightest edge.

  "My name is Rayzil, ma’am. I am Soren’s Ajaiyi."

  The honorific came out clipped, and there was no mistaking the annoyance buried in her tone.

  From the side, Nercostes gently nudged her with his tail, a subtle reminder to rein it in.

  Rayzil sent a quick glance in his direction. She understood the message. She just chose to ignore it.

  Next, Zeph stepped forward, his spine straight and shoulders squared with practiced composure.

  "My name is Zephares Steele, Colonel. I am also from Prodon."

  At the mention of his surname, Colonel Larka took a step forward, her sharp eyes narrowing ever so slightly in recognition.

  "Steele," she repeated. "Your father was Magnus Steele, am I correct?"

  Zeph gave a single nod, his gaze drifting downward."Yes, ma’am."

  The Colonel’s voice softened just a fraction."He was a great man, Zephares. You have a lot to live up to."

  Zeph nodded again, saying nothing more.

  Breaking the tension in the air, the black Dragon introduced himself.

  “My name is Nercostes, Colonel. I look forward to learning more from you and Kroz.”

  Nercostes dipped his head slightly at his last statement, but all Kroz did was stare.

  Then, Colonel Larka’s attention shifted to the final Cadet—the girl standing tall beside the fiery looking Vata.

  She stood calm and composed, seemingly untouched by the weight of eyes on her. The breeze caught strands of her sky-blue hair, half of it intricately braided along one side of her head. Her olive-toned skin glowed in the sunlight, and her narrow, silver-hued eyes shimmered as she stared straight ahead.

  She wore a simple white long-sleeved shirt tucked into brown pants, practical and unadorned. But as the boys took her in, something startling drew their gaze—across her throat ran a long, jagged scar, stark against her skin. It looked deep, brutal. How had she survived a wound like that?

  Wrena stepped forward with measured grace, offering a slight bow at the hips. But her Ajaiyi was the one that spoke.

  “Her name is Wrena Palehelm, and my name is Falzok, Colonel. We are from Seldre,” the Vata said, the masculine voice steady.

  Soren nudged Zeph with his elbow, whispering under his breath,“Wow. That’s even farther north than Veren—and way more coastal than Prodon.”

  Zeph gave a small, thoughtful nod, intrigued.

  Colonel Larka’s brow furrowed slightly in confusion.“Why is Cadet Palehelm not speaking for herself, Falzok?”

  Wrena remained silent, her silver eyes unwavering. Falzok answered without hesitation.“She apologizes for the confusion. When she was young—before I came through the Prismalith—she was injured. Her vocal cords were severed. She barely survived. Seldre is not exactly the safest place, ma’am.”

  The Colonel, remained composed, studying Falzok and Wrena with new interest. She seemed to pick up on the way they moved in quiet, effortless sync.

  “Correct me if I’m wrong, Falzok,” she said, “but have you two already achieved mind-speech?”

  Falzok dipped his head.“Yes, Colonel. We've been able to speak through our bond for some time—shortly after I emerged from the Prismalith.”

  For the first time, Colonel Larka’s stern expression softened slightly. She turned her gaze to Wrena, offering a rare nod of approval.“That is impressive, Cadet Palehelm. I’ve never seen someone unlock this ability so early.”

  At the mention of telepathy, Soren’s hand shot up, curiosity sparking across his face.“Excuse me, Colonel? Does that mean we’ll be able to communicate with our Ajaiyi—in our heads?”

  Colonel Larka turned to him and gave a small, firm nod.“Yes, Cadet Skymark. By the time your training ends, all Cadets are expected to achieve mind-speech with their Ajaiyi.”

  Soren and Zeph exchanged wide-eyed glances, excitement lighting their faces. Speaking to Rayzil and Nercostes without worrying about distance? The idea thrilled them.

  The Colonel’s gaze returned to Wrena, her tone sharpening once more.“Cadet Palehelm, know this—if your inability to speak aloud affects your training too greatly, I will not hesitate to send you home. No one here is given special privileges.”

  At those words, she cast a brief, pointed glance toward Zeph and Soren. The message was meant for all three of them, showing she did not care if they had Dragons.

  Squaring her shoulders, Colonel Larka raised her voice.“Alright, Cadets. You will follow me. I’ll be showing you the Veisha training grounds—as well as your dormitories.”

  She paused just long enough for the weight of her words to settle.

  "Those of you with Ajaiyi of this size were assigned private dorms. Others… aren’t so lucky."

  There was a faint flicker of dry humor beneath her tone, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared.

  "Kroz will take your Ajaiyi and show them to their training grounds. They’ll begin learning what their future requires—what it demands."

  Behind her, the massive Ngari shifted slightly, his tail dragging a slow line in the dirt as he stepped forward, ready to guide the Ajaiyi.

  It was time for them to see where they’d be shaped into soldiers.

  All three Cadets turned to face their Ajaiyi, taking a quiet moment to share a bit of affection before the temporary parting. They didn’t need words to express it—it was in the way they stood a little closer, the way their eyes lingered.

  Soren stepped up to Rayzil, placing a hand on her shoulder."I’ll see you later, okay? Just… please be respectful toward Kroz. It’s time we started to mature a bit."

  Rayzil rolled her eyes, a smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth."Whatever you say, boss."

  Soren shot her a quick glare."I mean it. Kroz can and will put you on your ass. Don’t test him too much."

  The smirk faded into something softer.

  They leaned in, pressing their foreheads together, eyes closed in silent understanding. Then, without another word, they separated—each turning to follow their respective mentor.

  The journey had officially begun.

  Zephares stood still for a moment, watching as the two Dragons and the Vata followed behind the towering Ngari. Their footsteps echoed through the stone corridor until one by one, the creatures vanished into the shadowed hallway beyond.

  He lingered, just a second longer than he meant to.

  Then he turned—only to realize the others had already started walking. He’d been keeping the group behind.

  With a quiet curse under his breath, Zeph jogged to catch up, his boots thudding softly against the ground.

  Up ahead, Colonel Larka cast a brief glance over her shoulder. For the faintest moment, her face twisted in displeasure—not enough to call attention to, but enough to make it known.

  Then it was gone. Her expression smoothed into unreadable discipline once more.

  Zeph said nothing.

  And neither did she.

  The Veisha were led into a separate hallway, smaller and narrower than the one the Ajaiyi had disappeared into. The walls were lined with polished stone, and the air carried a faint chill, as if the passage hadn’t seen sunlight in days.

  Soren’s thoughts started to wander as he followed the high ranking officer.

  Back in the courtyard, when Kroz had first entered, Soren had noticed something peculiar—the absence of a breast collar. Unlike the other ranked Ajaiyi, there had been nothing adorning the Ngari’s chest.

  Now, walking through the narrow hallway, he took the chance to ask.

  "Excuse me? Ma’am?" he said, quickening his step slightly to close the distance."I noticed earlier—Kroz doesn’t wear a breast collar like the other ranking officers’ Ajaiyi. Why is that?"

  Colonel Larka didn’t miss a beat. Her steps remained perfectly even, her tone clipped and matter-of-fact.

  "A breast collar would only hinder him in a fight."

  That was all she said.

  No elaboration. No reassurance.

  Just fact.

  The answer sat heavy in the silence that followed, leaving the Cadets to wonder exactly what kind of combat Kroz had seen—and what kind they might see.

  They walked in silence for another minute, the air cool and still. None of them knew where they were being led—only that each step felt like it carried weight.

  Finally, they reached a wooden door, the grain aged and darkened by time. Without a word, Colonel Larka reached for the metal handle and pulled it open.

  A shaft of sunlight spilled into the hallway, washing over the stone beneath their feet.

  They stepped out into the sunlight, squinting slightly as their eyes adjusted. The boys quickly realized where they were—a training yard.

  It wasn’t massive, but it was large enough to comfortably hold the four Veisha in their group. Any more than that, and the space would start to feel cramped.

  They followed Colonel Larka toward the center of the yard, Soren and Zeph instinctively scanning their surroundings.

  Training dummies stood in a neat row against the far wall, worn and patched from repeated use. Scattered across the yard were targets of varying sizes, likely for ranged or precision-based exercises. To their left, along one stone wall, hung a series of weapons—swords, staffs, training spears, and other various weapons neither of the boys recognized.

  Before the silence could stretch too long, Colonel Larka’s voice cut through the air, sharp and authoritative.

  "This will be our main training yard. We’ll spend the majority of our time here at the beginning—learning your strengths, and identifying which weapon best suits your style."

  Without another word, Colonel Larka turned on her heel, leading them back through the door they had entered from. The three Cadets followed close behind, boots echoing softly off the cold stone floor.

  More time passed as they walked through yet another winding corridor—long, narrow, and lined with lights.

  Eventually, they stopped before a new door. Weathered wood. Iron handle.

  The Colonel opened it without hesitation, and once again, sunlight poured in, briefly blinding the boys as their eyes adjusted.

  But this time, they weren’t met with stone or walls.

  Instead, they stepped into something much quieter—green grass and rolling hills, stretched out under a wide, open sky. A few trees dotted the landscape, their leaves rustling in the breeze. Nearby, a small pond shimmered in the warm glow of the setting sun.

  It felt peaceful.

  But Soren knew better.

  This was just the calm before the storm.

  Colonel Larka turned to face the Cadets once more, her expression as unreadable as ever.

  "This is where our joint training with your Ajaiyi will take place," she said firmly."Kroz is currently showing them their training grounds."

  She pivoted slightly, her eyes scanning the horizon until they settled on the dark line of forest in the distance. She raised her hand and pointed toward the trees, her stance sharp and commanding.

  "He’ll be teaching them there—beyond the Capital’s walls. Out of sight, and out of distraction."

  Her gaze lingered on the treetops for a moment before continuing.

  "During bootcamp, each mentor is allowed to train their Cadets as they see fit. To minimize interference, all joint training will take place outside the Capital. You’ll have space. Privacy. And no one to hide behind."

  The words landed like an unspoken promise—and a warning.

  But even with her stern delivery, excitement buzzed in the air. The Cadets could feel it now. It was real. They weren’t just walking through halls or hearing instructions—they were on the brink of something much bigger.

  They would begin learning how to fight, how to survive, and—most of all—how to unlock the full potential of their bond with their Ajaiyi.

  Training was no longer an idea. It was about to begin.

  Colonel Larka turned once more without fanfare, stepping back through the door and into the stone corridors of the Capital.

  The three Cadets followed, though a part of them was eager to get back to those sprawling hills.

  Once they entered, they began to ascend.

  The narrow stone stairwell wound upward through the tower-like structure, their boots echoing off the steps. After a few sets of stairs, they emerged into a hallway lined with evenly spaced doors on one side, each one marked with a brass plaque.

  Colonel Larka stopped and turned to face them.

  "These are your dorms. You’ll find your name on one of the doors—this will be your room for the duration of your time here." Her tone was as direct as ever. "I’ll let you Cadets get settled tonight. You have a full day ahead of you, and it starts bright and early."

  The way she had said ‘bright and early’ only made them even more excited.

  Wrena simply gave a polite nod, her expression unreadable, before making her way down the hall.

  Colonel Larka then turned back towards the stairs, leaving the Cadets to find their rooms. Soren and Zeph followed their fellow Cadet at a slower pace, eyes scanning the plaques.

  Just a few doors in from the entryway, they found them—Skymark and Steele, side by side. Their names gleamed softly in the low hallway light.

  Soren and Zeph turned to face each other, standing still for a moment in front of their doors. A slow, genuine smile spread across both their faces.

  They didn’t need to say anything.

  Of course the twins would be placed next to each other. They had been separated before, and they didn’t plan on being separated again.

  With a shared nod, they each opened their door and stepped inside—into the rooms that would be their home for the next two years.