It hadn’t always been like this. It didn’t have to be. Aria Bckheart hadn’t asked to be the Chosen One, the dragon rider whispered about in legends, the symbol of hope and power exalted by nations across the realm. But fate, it seemed, was rarely kind. It twisted lives with cruel irony, and hers was no exception.

  Her destiny had been carved into the marrow of her bones long before she had a say in it.

  Welcome to Aldenmoor — a nd shrouded in shadows, with jagged peaks that cwed at the sky and valleys filled with the echoes of dragons' roars. Fear and reverence pulsed in equal measure through its heart. Dragons lurked in every corner, their scales glinting like living armor, their eyes pools of ancient wisdom and untamed fury. This was the pce of legends, of whispered fears, of raw power honed into an art. And at the center of it all y the academy — a brutal crucible designed to forge the strongest dragon riders the world had ever known.

  Aldenmoor didn’t merely train riders; it shaped them. Broke them down and rebuilt them with fire, steel, and sheer will. And Aria Bckheart — fierce, relentless, unyielding — was the academy’s next masterpiece, whether she wanted to be or not.

  The cold steel of the dagger settled into her palm, its weight a comfort and a curse. The leather-wrapped hilt, worn smooth from hours of practice, was a perfect extension of her will. Her fingers curled around it with quiet determination, the chill of the bde seeping into her skin, steadying her.

  The dagger flew from her hand in a blur, a fsh of steel slicing through the air. It struck the wooden target with a solid thud, burying itself dead center in the small circle painted there. Aria's lips curved into the faintest hint of a smirk, her satisfaction as sharp as the bde she wielded.

  She strode forward, boots crunching the shattered remains beneath her. The frustration bubbled beneath her carefully controlled facade. She clenched her fists, splintering the wood further. "Dammit," she muttered under her breath. "And I still have to train with my powers, too." Her eyes rolled, a flicker of impatience tightening her jaw.

  A sharp whistle pierced the air, a sound that sent a jolt of anticipation through her. The wind shifted, heralding the descent of something immense. Leviathan. He was coming, faster than usual—he must have missed her.

  Aria slipped the daggers into the sheaths on her thighs, her fingers brushing against the cool leather. Her gaze lifted to the sky, where a bck shape, immense and graceful, swept through the clouds. Leviathan—the st bck dragon, the rgest and most dangerous creature to ever soar the heavens. Nations craved his power, his strength and yet he was hers.

  A smile tugged at her lips. "Did you miss me?" she called out, her voice defiant and light.

  The response was not in words, but a deep, resonating growl that reverberated in her mind—a sound of satisfaction, of bond and belonging. Yes, he had missed her.

  She broke into a run, the wind cwing at her hair, the ground trembling beneath her feet as Leviathan descended. He nded with a force that shook the earth, a rush of air bsting outward and forcing her to brace herself. Her smile widened into something fierce.

  "Levo!" she shouted, scaling his foreleg with practiced ease, her fingers gripping the smooth, dark scales that glimmered like liquid night.

  Leviathan didn’t hesitate. With a powerful thrust of his wings, they were airborne, the ground falling away beneath them. The castle walls blurred in her peripheral vision, the archers stationed atop them shrinking to mere dots. Their eyes followed Leviathan’s ascent, their expressions tight with unease. They didn’t just fear her—they feared him.

  Leviathan roared, a sound that ripped through the air, primal and defiant. Aria felt the subtle shift, the ripple of fear that spread through the castle below. It pleased her.

  "Good boy," she whispered into the bond. "Make them piss their pants."

  A ugh bubbled in her throat as she let go, her arms outstretched, the wind whipping her hair back. For a moment, she wasn’t the strongest rider, or the weapon they feared—she was free.

  But freedom was fleeting.

  Her gaze flicked toward the castle’s towering spires, where the academy’s administrators watched with cold, calcuting eyes. They never looked away. They were always watching, waiting.

  "Always watching, aren’t they?" she muttered, bitterness curling around the words.

  Leviathan’s voice curled through her mind, a steadying presence. "Yes. We should begin training before they decide to make a move against you."

  She sighed, the weight of inevitability pressing against her ribs. "Let’s do it."

  Leviathan banked sharply, the wind screaming in her ears as they descended. Aria reached inward, tapping into the well of power that flowed between them. Heat bloomed in her veins, rushing outward, igniting her hands in wreaths of orange fme. Her eyes bzed with fire as she roared, "Ignis!"

  The inferno burst forth, a wave of blistering heat and light that swept across the field below. Dry grass erupted in fmes, a crackling sea of fire consuming everything in its path. The other riders scrambled into the air, their dragons beating furious wings to escape the bze.

  The fire in her hands flickered and died, but the heat lingered, searing her skin. Leviathan soared higher, his wings slicing through the smoke-choked sky.

  "I think I covered more ground this time," she said, satisfaction lifting her lips in a smirk.

  Leviathan’s voice rumbled with amusement. "You could cover even more if you tapped into your full potential."

  She snorted. "I’m not wasting that kind of energy on them."

  A deep, vibrating chuckle filled her mind. "You’ve made more enemies today. They won’t forget that."

  Aria’s eyes scanned the other riders, who still dodged the swirling smoke below. She shrugged, the motion flippant. "They should know better than to get in my way."

  Leviathan’s ughter faded to a low hum of pride. "Yet you cim you have no ego."

  Her smile faltered for a heartbeat as memories brushed against her mind’s edge. The girl who once struggled to hold a dagger was long gone. In her pce stood a weapon forged by fire, bound to a dragon who could level kingdoms.

  The academy’s spires loomed once more, dark and forbidding. The administrators were cpping, their slow, measured appuse like a sp to her face. Aria’s jaw tightened, a fre of heat igniting behind her eyes. They thought they controlled her, thought they could mold her into their pawn.

  Leviathan’s growl shivered through her thoughts, a warning and a comfort. "Control it."

  She exhaled slowly, forcing the fire down, smothering the fmes cwing at her chest. "I can’t stand them, Lev."

  "One day," he said, his voice a dark promise, "you’ll be free of them."

  For now, though, she had to py their game.

  Leviathan descended, a living storm crashing to earth. The ground buckled beneath his nding, cracks spiderwebbing out from his massive cws. Riders scattered, their fear a tangible thing.

  Aria slid down, her fingers trailing over scales that thrummed with power. She whispered a goodbye into the bond. Leviathan’s roar shook the air, a sound that shattered the illusion of control the academy held. With a powerful sweep of his wings, he ascended, leaving her grounded.

  As Leviathan ascended, she gnced over her shoulder, watching as the other riders—those who had been gathered at the entrance—stared at him in awe, their faces a mix of envy and fear. They all knew what he was, what he could do. They all knew that she was the one Leviathan had chosen, the one bound to him in a way none of them would ever understand.

  The eyes of the riders shifted from Leviathan to her, and in an instant, she felt the familiar, bitter stirrings of their judgment. She could see their thoughts written across their faces—whispers of her arrogance, her reputation, her unmatched skill.

  And then it happened. The fmes in her eyes fred, a flicker of the power that resided within her. She didn’t have to control it completely—the sheer intensity of her gaze made them recoil. Their expressions twisted into unease, their shoulders tense as the realization struck them. Fear. Fear that she had ignited the moment she stepped into their view.

  She smirked, the fire in her eyes fading, her own confidence returning. With a sharp twist of her heel, she turned away from them, stepping inside the academy without a second gnce. The doors to the academy closed behind her with a soft thud, cutting off the world outside.

  The silence in the hall was deafening as she made her way up the staircase, the sound of her boots echoing through the cold, stone corridors. Each step felt heavier than the st, a reminder of the hours that she would lose in that suffocating cssroom. Flying dynamics.

  She scoffed under her breath. The irony was almost too much to bear. Flying dynamics was the one css that she could practically teach herself. The one css that made no sense for someone like her, someone who already knew how to ride Leviathan, who already knew how to wield the power that surged through their bond. Yet here she was, forced to endure it.

  The door to the cssroom creaked open, and she felt every gaze in the room snap to her. She ignored them, moving toward her usual spot in the back—far away from everyone, as always. No one wanted to sit near her when they first started this css.

  She sat, not bothering to acknowledge the stares, but her body seemed to hum with their unwanted attention. She looked up at the professor, his chalk scraping against the board with that awful screeching sound that made her teeth ache. He droned on about the importance of posture, of maintaining proper bance on your dragon, as though she hadn’t already learned it by heart. The chalk screeched again, and she grimaced.

  She finally let her thoughts drift, the words of the professor fading into the background as her mind wandered, consumed by the gravity of what loomed ahead. The war. Not much had been said about it, not openly at least. The nations were keeping it under wraps, trying to suppress the chaos brewing beneath the surface. They were terrified that if the public caught wind of what was happening, fear would spread like wildfire, and the people would tear themselves apart in a frenzy of panic.

  But Aria knew. She could feel it in her bones. As soon as they started putting her in those training sessions, as soon as she bonded with Leviathan, she became a piece in their game—a pn they had crafted long before she was ever ready for it. They wanted to use her.

  She could still remember the first time they began the one-on-one lectures—those private, outdoor sessions where they taught her how to control the power that Leviathan had gifted her. At first, she could barely control the fire that pulsed in her veins. The first time she released it, she almost burned down the entire forest behind them. The heat had surged through her, uncontrolble, as if the earth itself had caught fire in response to the power surging from within. The smell of smoke and the crackling of fmes haunted her for days afterward, a constant reminder of how little control she had over what they were forcing her to wield.

  But they didn’t care. They wanted her to harness it, to wield that power in destructive ways. The training was grueling. Week after week, she created fireballs—massive, infernal spheres of fme that she hurled at targets, tearing them apart in an instant. She’d watch the fields burn, the fmes licking at the horizon, turning everything in their path to ash. The sensation of watching everything around her consumed by the fire became familiar. It was a new routine, her Tuesday ritual. Ignite, release, destroy.

  And she knew. They weren’t just training her to be a dragon rider—they were training her to kill everyone for them, a tool to wield at their command. They’d huddle in corners, whispering behind closed doors about her, their voices ced with hushed tones of manipution. They saw potential in her, yes, but only because they could shape her into something lethal. They saw the future, and she was the weapon they intended to use to secure their power.

  Leviathan, however, always knew this wasn’t going to be her end. He knew that the moment they forced her to submit, it was the beginning of something far darker. They tried to break her. They pushed her, tested her limits, forced her to bend to their will. The first year, she refused to obey. She fought back. But they had their ways of wearing her down. Torture. Physical, mental, emotional. They had a thousand ways to break her spirit, to bend her to their needs. And when she wouldn’t cooperate, they made her pay.

  No one would believe her if she said they tortured her. But she had the scars to prove it. The burn marks on her skin, the cuts, the bruises—they were all reminders of what she endured. They didn’t care how much it hurt. They didn’t care if she broke apart beneath their feet. Their only goal was to shape her into the perfect soldier. They reduced her powers with potions, stripping away her control, weakening her, forcing her to listen to their commands. And back then, she didn’t have a choice. She was too weak, too inexperienced to resist.

  Now, she listened to them—not because she wanted to, but because she’d learned the hard way that they were making her stronger. She hated it, but she couldn’t deny it. The power they were helping her hone would be the key to winning at what was to come. Not just for the people of this world, but for Leviathan as well. Together, they would become the strongest duo this nation had ever seen, unmatched by any other force.

  But the war itself? No one talked about it openly. All she knew was that it was coming. The nations were angry, and she’d been sneaking into the academy’s offices at night, trying to piece together scraps of information. So far, all she’d learned was that it was some ancient feud, an old grudge between the nations. But the why? The cause? She had no idea. She didn’t know why they were so furious with them, why they wanted to start this whole war thing with them. She’d been digging into their history, trying to uncover the secrets they’d buried. Eventually, she’d find out the truth. And when she did, she’d be ready.

  Before she knew it, everyone started standing up and leaving swiftly, signaling the end of css. The students, relieved to escape the suffocating atmosphere, poured out the door like a mass exodus. She didn’t waste any time getting up, eager to leave the suffocating walls of the cssroom. But as she stepped toward the door, a voice stopped her dead in her tracks.

  “Aria.”

  She froze, her body tensing at the sound of her name. She slowly turned, a slight tilt to her head as she looked back at Professor McGuire. He wasn’t looking at her with the usual disinterest he often reserved for students; instead, his expression was one of somber professionalism.

  “Yes?” she asked, a thin edge of annoyance creeping into her voice.

  He hesitated, gncing around as if making sure no one else was in earshot before speaking. “The administrators want to speak with you. They’re waiting for you in their office.”

  A wave of dread washed over her, but she kept her face neutral, refusing to let him see the unease that stirred within her. What’s their problem now? she thought to herself, but kept the words locked away.

  She nodded stiffly, though inside she was seething. It could never just be a normal day. Every time they called her in, it meant something was about to change. And she could already tell that the unease swirling in her gut wasn’t going to disappear anytime soon.