Page 18 of Tempest Awakening

"Indeed," Wesley agreed. "Kane often helps out with other duties around the library on behalf of his father. His dedication goes beyond just the Dragon Rider training. It's that kind of commitment that sets the truly exceptional candidates apart."

I nodded, my eyes still fixed on Kane as he completed the course with apparent ease.

"How..." I swallowed hard, my throat dry with awe and longing. "How does one become a Dragon Rider?"

Wesley's expression turned serious. "It's not an easy path, Tess. Only about 25% of dragons even choose to bond with riders. The selection process is rigorous, designed to test bravery, wisdom, and strength. And even then, it's the dragons who make the final choice."

As if to emphasize his point, a young applicant below us stumbled, narrowly avoiding a gout of flame. The nearby dragon snorted, clearly unimpressed.

"The bond itself is formed through a powerful Binding Spell," Wesley continued. "It requires mutual consent and involves combining the dragon's fire with the rider's blood. It's not just a partnership—it's a lifelong connection, deeply emotional and psychically profound."

I watched as a dragon and rider executed a perfect aerial maneuver, moving in perfect synchronicity. "They seem so in tune with each other," I marveled.

Wesley nodded. "The bond enhances abilities on both sides. Riders gain strength, magical powers, and heightened senses.Dragons become more attuned to human emotions and gain a new understanding of our cultures. They even share thoughts and feelings."

"It sounds amazing," I breathed, unable to tear my eyes away from the spectacle.

"It is," Wesley agreed. "But it's not without its dangers. The bond is unbreakable, and if one dies, the other often follows. It's a huge responsibility."

Just then, a commotion erupted on the field. A dragon, massive even by draconic standards, had broken formation and was flying towards us. Its scales shimmered in the sunlight, transitioning from deep obsidian to radiant gold in a mesmerizing display. Shouts of alarm rose from the trainers below.

"We should move," Wesley said urgently, tugging at my arm. But I stood transfixed, unable to look away from the approaching dragon.

As it drew nearer, I felt a strange vibration in my chest, a resonance that seemed to echo through my very soul. The dragon's eyes, shifting between molten lava and soothing amber, locked onto mine.

For a moment, the world fell away, and I felt a connection so profound it took my breath away. The play of light across its scales, from the deepest black to the brightest gold, seemed to mirror the conflicting emotions surging through me—fear, awe, and an inexplicable sense of recognition.

Then, as quickly as it had appeared, the dragon veered away, rejoining its group with a mournful cry that seemed to pierce my heart.

"Tess?" Wesley's concerned voice broke through my daze. "Are you alright?"

I blinked, coming back to myself. "Y-yes," I stammered, my heart still racing. "I'm fine. That was just... intense."

Wesley studied me closely, a strange expression on his face. "Indeed," he murmured. "Perhaps we should continue our tour elsewhere."

Chapter 7

Tess

After a couple hours of touring the Grounds, my mind was reeling from information overload. Wesley noticed my flagging energy and suggested a quiet alcove in the Library where I could catch my breath.

"I thought you might like a moment to yourself," he said with a warm smile. "There's a cozy nook just around the corner. Take all the time you need. And don’t forget, Moriyana has you scheduled for a meeting about the Oral History project first thing tomorrow. But after that, I’ll show you the ropes."

Gratitude swelled within me as I thanked Wesley and made my way to the secluded spot. The alcove was a small, circular space nestled between towering bookshelves, illuminated by the soft glow of enchanted lanterns. I sank onto a plush velvet settee, relishing the moment of solitude.

As I settled in, my gaze was drawn to a small, intricately carved wooden box on a nearby shelf. Curiosity piqued, I leaned forward to examine it more closely. The box seemed to hum with a faint energy, almost as if it were calling to me.

Before I could stop myself, I reached out and opened the lid. Inside, nestled on a bed of midnight-blue velvet, lay a pendant: a fire opal set in delicate silver filigree. The stone shimmeredwith depths of orange and red, occasionally flashing with hints of blue. It was mesmerizing.

Without thinking, I lifted the pendant from its resting place. The moment my fingers made contact with the cool silver, the opal blazed to life. Intense heat radiated through my palm, and the stone's colors intensified to an almost blinding brilliance. Tendrils of fiery energy began to seep from the opal, curling around my fingers and wrist like a living flame.

Panic seized me as I tried to drop the pendant, but it seemed to cling to my skin. The silver chain wound itself around my wrist of its own accord.

"That's a dangerous artifact you're holding, little one."

The low, velvety voice cut through my panic like a knife. I whirled to find a man—no, not a man, something far more dangerous—materializing from the shadows. Tousled hair, black at the roots fading to white at the tips, framed a face of otherworldly beauty. His silver eyes, gleaming with an inhuman light, locked onto mine with an intensity that stole my breath.

He was clad entirely in black: a sleek leather jacket hugged his broad shoulders, its collar turned up to accentuate the sharp line of his jaw. Beneath it, a fitted black shirt clung to his muscular torso, tucked into dark jeans that seemed painted on his long legs. Heavy black boots completed the ensemble. The all-black attire only served to emphasize the pallor of his skin and the mesmerizing silver of his eyes, making him look like a predator cloaked in midnight.

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