Page 29 of The Shattered Rite
She frowned faintly, her hands tightening into fists.
It was never about choice. Or readiness. Or want.
“What, then?”
We are two halves of one flame. I carry what you lack. Together, we fulfill the shape the world cannot name yet.
She swallowed. “Because of the prophecy.”
Because of fate.
He shifted closer, the ground vibrating softly beneath her boots.
Neither of us chose our destiny,he said.Neither of us wants to be the last of our kind. But the gods named us to mend what has been left to rot. To tear the sickness from the kingdom’s heart before it kills all that remains.
Her breath hitched. “Well… how are we supposed to do all that?”
By becoming what they fear most,Vaeronth rumbled.By being exactly what the prophecy promised—and more.
His voice softened, but it was no less absolute.
Whatever comes, we face it as one. Dragon and rider, bound to heal a realm dying by the Sovereign’s hand.
Her throat cinched. “I’m scared.”
At last, something in his voice shifted. Gentler. Like thunder made soft.
You seem it.
She laughed, cracked and wet. “Oh, you’ve got jokes.”
I assure you, I do not.
She blinked. “I’m not sure if that’s comforting or depressing.”
Neither am I.
Her laugh came easier this time. Small. Fragile. But real.
“I don’t know how to do this,” she admitted softly, curling her arms around herself. “My mother used to tell me about the prophecy… about how it would be me in the end. Like I was meant to win the trials and wear the crown. To fix everything.” Her voice thinned. “But standing here, it all feels… impossible.”
You are the last Dragonrider.
She let out a short, almost bitter laugh. “Yeah, and according to her, that title is supposed to change the world.”
She saw what I see,Vaeronth rumbled.The shape of what you will become. The magic that you will unlock. She knew it as surely as I do.
Her breath hitched again, but no tears came now. Only the steady, quiet ache of a heart too tired to break.
“Alright,” she whispered. “We'll do it together.”
In the silence that followed, she felt him—a constant immovable presence.
Not her savior.
Her tether.
And for the first time since leaving her village, Eliryn didn’t feel lost.
