Page 59 of Beneath Scales and Shadows
There’d be time to unravel the rest—later.
Hopefully.
“How does it feel?” Ignis asked, his gaze traveling the length of her transformed silhouette.
Sora pulled the hood over her head. The fabric settled softly, casting her face in shadow without dimming her sight. Something about it felt right—protective, concealing.
She rolled her shoulders, testing the fit. The cloak moved with her, silent, fluid. It clung to her like it knew her shape—familiar in a way it shouldn’t have been.
“Like it was made for me,” she murmured, fingers brushing the edge of the hood.
“Perhaps you’re becoming who you were always meant to be.”
His words settled deep—dangerous in their softness. Sora hated how easily they slipped beneath her defenses, how part of her... was starting to believe it.
She glanced toward the entrance where the first streaks of red stretched across the sky like a wound—painting the clouds in hues too vivid, too wrong to be beautiful.
Heat crept up her neck, and she tugged the hood a little lower, as if it might hide the blush warming her cheeks.
“Come,” Ignis beckoned as he rolled his shoulders, ruby scales rippling like liquid while he turned toward the balcony. “It’s time. Dawn approaches, and with it, our confrontation.”
Outside, the twin moons danced in the bloody streaks, painting the indigo and not yet lavender sky. Below, the central cavern bustled with activity—dragons in both their dragoon and full forms making final preparations and checking their armor.
He stepped to the balcony’s edge and closed his eyes. A tremor passed through his body—subtle at first, then building. His scales began to shine under the morning light, as though molten fire coursed through his veins. The air around him shimmered with heat distortion, warping the predawn light.
Sora held her breath, transfixed, though she had witnessed this transformation before. It still captivated her—the sight of ancient magic manifesting before her eyes.
His form expanded, muscles and bone reconfiguring with fluid grace. Limbs elongated, tail growing more substantial, neck extending as his jaw restructured into a more pronounced muzzle. Wings unfurled farther from his back, membrane stretching between elongated digits until they spanned twice his previous width.
Within moments, the dragoon form had vanished, replaced by the majestic dragon king in all his glory. Ruby scales caught the first rays of dawn, transforming him into a living flame against the lightening sky. His colossal head turned toward her, crimson eyes undeniably Ignis, despite the fearsome new face that bore them.
“Beautiful,” Sora whispered, the word escaping before she could contain it.
A rumble of pleased amusement vibrated from his chest. He lowered his draconic form with deliberate grace, wings partially extended for balance.“Mount behind my neck ridge,”he explained, mental voice deeper in this form, resonating through her bones rather than merely her ears.“Your legs should rest along my shoulders. Make sure to grip the spines for support at the base of my neck—they won’t harm you.”
Sora approached with measured steps, studying the formidable expanse of ruby scales before her. A distant memory surfaced—childhood riding lessons on her grandfather’s farm, the instructor’s steady voice guiding her through mounting techniques—but this was another matter entirely.
No saddle, no reins, no stirrups. Just living, breathing creature of myth and legend beneath her.
“I won’t let you fall,”Ignis promised, as if sensing her hesitation.
She placed one hand on his shoulder, heat radiating through her gloves. With a deep breath, she swung her leg over his neck, settling into the natural depression between ridge and wing joint. The position felt unexpectedly secure, her knees tucking naturally against the juncture where neck met shoulders.
Her hands found the spines he’d indicated—flattened protrusions that offered perfect handholds. The scales beneath her were smooth but not slippery, providing natural friction that aided her stability.
“How does this work without a saddle?” she asked, adjusting her position. “Won’t I slide off during flight?”
A rumble of amusement vibrated through his body and into hers. “Dragon riders never needed such contraptions—they sensed each other’s intentions before words ever formed. The bond you and I share is different, less potent, but the process should remain the same.”
Before she could question further, Ignis rose to his full height. The sudden elevation sent her stomach lurching as the ground fell away beneath them. His wings snapped open, catching the first true light of dawn, transforming from ruby to living fire.
“Hold tight,”he warned, muscles bunching beneath her.“I was told the first drop always surprises.”
He launched from the balcony with surprising grace for a creature his size. For one heart-stopping moment, they fell, and Sora’s breath caught in her throat—not from fear but from the pure, visceral thrill of surrender. Then his wings caught the air—nearly unseating her. They surged upward with such force that she instinctively pressed closer to his neck, thighs tightening.
The mountain stronghold fell away beneath them as they soared outward in a wide arc. Ignis unleashed a thunderous bugle that echoed across the valleys—a call to arms that vibrated through Sora’s very bones.
The answer came as dozens of dragons emerged from hidden caverns along the mountainside, their forms catching the strengthening light—copper, emerald, sapphire, obsidian—rising to form a pattern behind their king. Ember flew at point on his right wing, her bronze scales gleaming in the first rays of dawn. Blaze and Enixa led separate formations, fanning out in precise battle formations—their wings creating geometric precision against the lightening sky.
