Page 103 of Tempest Blazing
"You want to sever my bond?" The words rang out clear and strong, carrying farther than they should have. "Try it."
Gasps rippled through the crowd. Silvius's eyes narrowed, his expression shifting from satisfaction to something colder, more dangerous.
"I am Tempest Whittaker," I continued, my voice gaining strength with every word. "First human Dragon Rider. Bonded to Thalon of the Divine Flame and Shadow Fire. And I don'trecognize your authority to tear apart something the dragons themselves have sanctified."
The platform trembled beneath my feet—not from fear, but from power. My core magic responded to the challenge, golden fire spiraling up my arms in defiant display. Let them see what they were trying to destroy.
"You call my bond irregular?" I laughed, and there was nothing pleasant in the sound. "You call it a threat? Good. Because maybe it's time someone threatened the institution that thinks it can decide who's worthy of love."
The air above me split.
Thalon came diving fast and decisive, slamming into the platform hard enough to fracture the stone beneath his claws—directly between Silvius and me. Flame danced along his spine, purple and gold fire that cast wild shadows across his obsidian scales. Heat rolled off him in waves. Silvius took an involuntary step backward.
Thalon didn't look at me. Not yet. His molten amber eyes fixed on Silvius with an intensity that made the air crackle. His massive head lowered until he was eye-level with the Lord Protector, and when he spoke, his voice rolled through every mind in the arena like thunder:
"You will not."
Two words. More threat than any roar. This wasn't a request or a negotiation. This was a dragon—an ancient, powerful being—declaring that some things were beyond the Guild's reach.
Only then did Thalon turn to me, his expression shifting from dangerous challenge to something infinitely warmer. He came to me without hesitation, his massive form cutting through the stunned silence like a force of nature. When he stopped, closeenough that heat rolled off him and made my skin flush, close enough that I could see my reflection in his molten amber eyes.
No bow. No roar of triumph. Just the unmistakable declaration that his choice had never been in question.
The bond between us flared to life—not just connection, but fusion. His power merged with mine, golden fire meeting shadow flame in a display that lit up the entire arena. For a moment, we weren't human and dragon. We were something new, something the Guild had never seen before.
Something they couldn't control.
The truth settled in my chest like a stone. They could try to break what Thalon and I had built. They had the legal authority, the magical knowledge, the institutional power to tear apart the most sacred thing in my life.
But they'd have to go through both of us to do it. And I was done being afraid of what that might cost.
The hollow ache spread through my entire body. Three months of struggle, of growth, of fighting for my place in this world—and it was ending here. Not with glory or triumph, but with clinical dismissal and the threat of having my soul torn apart.
No. Not ending. Beginning.
I'd spent too long trying to prove I belonged in their world. Maybe it was time to build my own.
I stayed standing through sheer force of will, my hands clenched at my sides to hide their trembling. Whatever happened next, I wouldn't give them the satisfaction of seeing me fall.
But then the air shifted.
Subtle at first—a heaviness that pressed against my skin, heat that had nothing to do with the afternoon sun. The magicalwards surrounding the arena began to hum, a low vibration I felt in my bones.
The crowd stirred uneasily, heads turning skyward as shadows began to sweep across the arena floor. Not the lazy circles of dragons observing from a distance, but purposeful shapes diving with clear intent.
The first dragon hit the ground hard. Dust plumed upward, stone fragments skittered across the arena floor. Then another. And another.
They descended in formation—not casual, but deliberate. Coordinated. Their wings created a thunderous symphony as they landed among the candidates, each step weighted with ancient authority.
Absolute silence. Even Silvius had gone still on the platform, his expression shifting from satisfaction to something approaching alarm.
From the largest dragon—Moriyana, her red scales gleaming like polished rubies—came a sound that rolled through the arena like distant thunder. But it wasn't just sound. It was will itself made manifest, carrying across every mind present with the weight of absolute authority:
"The trial is over. The Guild has made its judgments. Now, the dragons will make ours. We will choose our Riders... as it was in the beginning."
Complete silence. I could hear my own heartbeat thundering against my ribs. This wasn't part of the protocol. This wasn't how trials were supposed to end. This was public defiance of Guild authority, witnessed by hundreds and broadcast live to communities across the continent.
The dragons moved with purpose, each one seeking their chosen partner with the certainty of destiny. The crowd erupted into chaos—shouts of confusion, gasps of amazement, angry voices from the Guild officials' section—but the dragons paid no attention.
