Page 127 of The Shattered Rite
He emerged.
Like light pouring into a shape, Vaeronth stepped from the pendant in a shimmer of gold and flame. He rose and rose, impossibly tall, unfurling from that impossibly small space. His wings caught the morning sun like living mirrors, each scale edged in iridescent steel. He was massive—larger than she remembered—his neck arching with the grace of a river in motion.
Eliryn took a half-step back, breath caught in her throat.
This was only the second time she had seen him fully manifested. And still, it left her speechless.
His scales shimmered even through the haze of her imperfect vision. Glinting like starlight caught in obsidian, his body glistened with the weight of ancient bone and coiled power. His wings spanned farther than she could have run in a single breath. His eyes, deep as forgefire, turned to her and softened.
"You’re..." she exhaled, barely a whisper, "...beautiful."
Vaeronth gave a low, rumbling exhale that shook the stone beneath her feet.
And if you could see me clearly,he teased,you’d be weeping from my sheer magnificence.
He lowered his massive head, smug warmth threading his tone.Fortunately, your eyesight spares you the emotional devastation.
Eliryn snorted, one brow arching despite herself. "Right. So I should be thanking my half-blindness for shielding me from your overwhelming beauty?"
It’s a kindness, really. My radiance has felled kingdoms.
She crossed her arms, tilting her head, a faint smile ghosting her mouth. "And yet, not five minutes ago, you were sulking about cramped quarters like a glorified housecat."
Vaeronth blinked slowly, then released a smoky huff.Careful, little flame. I might forget I like you.
Her smile softened, warmth flickering unbidden in her chest. "No, you won’t."
A pause. Reverent. Then:
No,Vaeronth quietly agreed.I won’t.
He stepped forward, talons settling into the moss with careful grace, and looked skyward. With a powerful beat of his wings, he launched himself into the air, a cathedral of shadow and light rising above her. His body spiraled upward, eclipsing the sun, a constellation wrought of obsidian and fire.
Eliryn raised a hand to shield her eyes. It didn’t help much—her vision already dimmed things substantially—but the pieces she saw were enough. Even the shapes he carved into the sky made her breath catch.
She sank onto a sun-warmed stone, unwrapped one of Marta’s hand pies, and watched him wheel and spiral above her like a myth come alive.
She was halfway through chewing her last bite when a voice, quiet but certain, broke through the air behind her.
"I thought I might find you here."
Her body went still.
She turned—slowly.
Malric stood at the edge of the rise. His cloak stirred in the breeze. Sunlight carved bronze and shadow across the angles of his face, and it was his expression that rooted her. It was composed. Too careful. Eyes locked entirely on her.
His voice broke the quiet. "I take it this isn’t an official trial rite?"
Eliryn blinked, startled. Then smirked, wiping honey from her mouth. "No. And if you’re here to reprimand me for improper use of highland terrain, I’m throwing this pie at you."
A brow arched. His mouth quirked—a half-smile, quick and dry. "I’ll take my chances. Your aim doesn’t look deadly from here."
She tilted her head, narrowing her eyes. "What are you doing out here?"
Malric’s gaze lifted, tracking Vaeronth’s slow, deliberate spirals overhead. Even half-shrouded by haze, Vaeronth’s presence dominated the sky.
When Malric spoke again, his voice was quieter. "It’s not every day you see a legend take to the skies. I wanted to see it for myself."
