Chapter Five
2800 Words
"You do not conquer the Crucible. You survive it, and in doing so, you prove that something within you refused to die.”
— Instructor Halra Mour
Water.
That was the first thing Skye heard.
Not voices.
Not dragons.
Not the crackle of magic or the clatter of plates in Scaleborn's Mess Hall.
Water.
It rushed somewhere beside her, surging forward before dragging itself back with a low, hungry hiss.
Skye tried to open her eyes.
Nothing happened.
Her eyelids felt impossibly heavy.
She reached blindly into the darkness, fingers searching for something solid.
Anything.
Her hand sank into coarse grains of sand.
Skye froze.
Sand?
Memory returned in broken pieces.
The Mess Hall.
Ashen sitting beside her.
The tea.
Initiates collapsing one after another.
Keala's hand on her shoulder.
Don't fight it.
And then—
It's how they find you.
Skye's heart began to race.
Who?
Keala's final answer echoed through her mind.
Your dragon.
The Crucible.
It had started.
Skye forced herself to remain still.
Panic would accomplish nothing.
Her father had taught her that years ago.
When deprived of sight, use everything else.
She listened.
Waves crashed somewhere to her left.
One.
Two.
Three.
There was a pause between each surge.
A shoreline.
Wind brushed across her face from the west and carried the faint taste of salt.
Cold air burned her lungs.
No voices.
No footsteps.
No immediate threat.
At least none she could hear.
Skye pressed her palms into the sand.
What in the gods was in that tea?
She forced her eyes open.
Pain exploded through her skull.
“Ah—”
Brilliant white light seared her vision.
Skye squeezed her eyes shut again.
After several breaths, she tried once more.
Slowly.
Shapes emerged.
Gray.
White.
Blue.
The world sharpened.
A jagged shoreline stretched before her.
Pale sand met an endless black-blue sea, waves clawing at the beach like some impatient beast desperate to drag the land beneath the water. Mist hung over the horizon, obscuring anything that might exist beyond it.
Behind her stood a wall of twisted driftwood.
No.
Not driftwood.
Trees.
Hundreds of them.
Their trunks had been bleached almost white by salt and wind, branches twisted together so tightly they resembled the ribs of some enormous dead creature.
Skye pushed herself onto her elbows.
Every muscle protested.
She felt as though she'd been unconscious for days.
Her head throbbed.
Her mouth was dry.
Her side—
Skye's hand immediately moved toward the wound left by the Terraclaw.
She stopped.
No blood.
No torn uniform.
The wound was still there, but muted. More memory than injury.
Interesting.
She looked down at herself.
She still wore the wine-red uniform she'd arrived in.
Her weapons were gone.
No bow.
No arrows.
No daggers.
Her satchel was missing too.
“Of course.”
Scaleborn wouldn't make this easy.
Skye forced herself onto her knees.
Her breath slowed as she counted the waves.
One.
Two.
Three.
A strange sensation crept over her.
She was being watched.
Skye slowly turned.
Nothing.
Only beach.
Water.
Forest.
Mist.
Then a voice whispered across the shoreline.
“Find me before the tide takes you.”
Skye's blood went cold.
The voice was faint.
Childlike.
Neither male nor female.
And impossibly close.
She spun.
“Hello?”
Nothing.
Skye searched the beach.
No footprints marked the sand except her own.
“Where are you?”
The waves crashed.
No answer came.
Then the ocean surged farther onto the beach.
Water swept toward her boots.
Skye stepped backward.
The wave retreated.
Something glittered in the wet sand.
Golden light.
It vanished almost immediately.
Skye's pulse quickened.
Find me before the tide takes you.
Her dragon.
It had to be.
Skye turned toward the forest.
Whatever she needed wasn't on the beach.
It was beyond those trees.
She pushed herself upright.
Her legs trembled.
“Fantastic.”
She took one step.
Then another.
Behind her, the ocean crashed against the shore.
Louder this time.
Skye didn't look back.
The forest swallowed her almost immediately.
The moment she crossed beneath the twisted branches, the sound of the ocean faded.
Within twenty steps, it was gone entirely.
Skye stopped.
That wasn't natural.
She glanced behind her.
The shoreline had vanished.
Only trees remained.
“Also fantastic.”
The air was thick and damp.
Mist curled around her ankles, weaving between roots that erupted from the ground like claws. Moss covered nearly everything—trees, stones, fallen branches.
Even the air smelled green.
Wet earth.
Rotting leaves.
Rain.
Skye moved carefully.
Without her weapons, every sound mattered.
A branch snapped.
She froze.
Her head turned toward the noise.
Nothing.
Then—
Movement.
A shadow slipped between two trees.
Large.
Low.
Fast.
Skye's heartbeat quickened.
She shifted her weight onto the balls of her feet.
Another movement.
Closer.
Mist parted.
Emerald scales caught the dim light.
Skye stopped breathing.
Two eyes appeared between the trees.
Molten amber.
“Oh, you've got to be kidding me.”
The creature stepped forward.
A Mossclaw.
Skye had seen sketches in her studies.
Those sketches had not done it justice.
The predator stood nearly as tall as a horse at the shoulder, its body built low and broad like an enormous mountain cat. Thick plates of deep emerald scales protected its back and shoulders, while moss grew naturally between them.
Its paws were massive.
Each ended in black claws capable of tearing through stone.
Glowing spores drifted from its muzzle with every breath.
Skye remembered the warnings from her textbooks.
Earth elemental predator.
Highly territorial.
Exceptional patience.
Do not mistake stillness for hesitation.
The Mossclaw began circling her.
Its paws made almost no sound.
Skye turned with it.
Slowly.
Her body screamed at her to run.
She didn't.
Running from a Mossclaw was one of the first things instructors told students never to do.
It could outrun most horses over short distances.
Skye lifted her hands.
No weapon.
Fine.
She had something better.
She reached for her Light.
Nothing.
Skye frowned.
Again.
She pulled at the familiar warmth beneath her ribs.
A faint golden spark appeared between her fingers.
Then died.
“No.”
The Mossclaw's ears flattened.
Skye tried again.
Nothing.
Her pulse climbed.
The Crucible wasn't simply testing whether she could survive.
It was limiting her.
Weakening her.
Forcing her to rely on something besides raw power.
The Mossclaw lowered its head.
Skye's stomach dropped.
“Don't.”
Its claws dug into the earth.
“Don't you dare.”
The creature charged.
Skye ran.
Apparently the textbooks could go to hell.
The Mossclaw barreled through the mist behind her like a fallen tree.
Skye tore through the undergrowth.
Branches whipped across her face.
Thorned vines caught her sleeves.
Roots threatened every step.
Behind her came a roar so deep the earth seemed to answer it.
Skye pushed harder.
Her lungs burned.
The Mossclaw was gaining.
Think.
She jumped over a fallen log.
Think.
She ducked beneath a branch.
The beast crashed through it.
Wood exploded behind her.
“Right. Definitely angry.”
Skye's instincts screamed one thing.
Higher ground.
She searched the forest.
Nothing.
Trees surrounded her in every direction.
Then she spotted a rocky incline ahead.
Skye changed direction.
The Mossclaw roared.
She scrambled toward the slope.
Her boot struck a root.
Skye's balance disappeared.
“Oh—”
She hit the ground.
Hard.
Momentum carried her forward.
She tumbled down the opposite side of the slope, branches tearing at her uniform until she crashed into a clearing below.
Pain shot through her shoulder.
Skye groaned.
For several seconds, she remained there.
Then she realized something.
Silence.
No footsteps.
No roar.
No crashing branches.
Skye slowly rolled onto her back.
Mist drifted above her.
Nothing moved.
That was worse.
She sat up.
Her gaze swept the clearing.
“Come on.”
Nothing.
Skye grabbed the nearest thing she could find.
A jagged piece of bark.
Pathetic.
But better than nothing.
She forced herself onto one knee.
The silence pressed against her.
She could feel the creature.
Its presence carried weight.
Like a second gravity.
Then the mist shifted.
The Mossclaw stood at the edge of the clearing.
Watching.
It hadn't lost her.
It had stopped chasing because it knew she had nowhere left to run.
Skye's grip tightened around the bark.
The Mossclaw took one step forward.
Then another.
Its amber eyes never left hers.
Skye's breath shook.
Her heartbeat thundered in her ears.
Fear crawled up her throat.
She wanted her bow.
Wanted her daggers.
Wanted Aurezion.
Wanted her father.
Wanted anything familiar.
Instead, she had herself.
The Mossclaw lowered its head.
Skye closed her eyes.
Not surrender.
Focus.
She breathed.
Once.
Twice.
Again.
The world narrowed.
She listened to the forest.
The faint drip of water.
The rustling of leaves.
The Mossclaw's slow breathing.
Her own heartbeat.
Then something else.
A hum.
Skye knew that sound.
Her magic.
She had always treated her Light like a weapon.
Something to summon.
Something to unleash.
Something to control.
But now she didn't reach for it.
She listened.
The humming strengthened.
Warmth spread beneath her ribs.
Down her arms.
Into her fingertips.
Skye inhaled.
Mist curled around her boots.
Tiny droplets of water lifted from the moss.
One by one, they began to glow.
Gold.
Skye opened her eyes.
Light blazed around her hands.
Not wild.
Not explosive.
No violent burst of power tore through the clearing.
Instead, the magic gathered.
Focused.
Pure.
The Mossclaw growled.
Skye remained still.
Golden light traveled along her arms.
The air seemed to bend around her fingers.
For the first time, Skye didn't feel as though she was forcing the magic to obey.
They were moving together.
The Mossclaw stepped backward.
Skye stared.
It was afraid.
No.
Not afraid.
Wary.
It understood what stood before it.
The beast snarled.
Skye didn't attack.
That seemed important.
Everything inside her wanted to unleash the Light.
To prove she could.
To force the Mossclaw away.
But Instructor Aryn's words surfaced in her memory.
Do not seek to master your dragon.
Skye breathed.
Learn instead to master yourself.
Her fingers relaxed.
The Light remained.
The Mossclaw watched her.
Seconds stretched between them.
Then the creature lowered its head.
Not submission.
Acknowledgment.
With one final growl, it turned.
The emerald scales vanished into the mist.
Skye didn't move.
Not until she could no longer hear it.
Then her shoulders sagged.
“Holy shit.”
The golden light remained around her hands.
Skye stared at it.
Usually her power faded the moment the threat disappeared.
This time, it didn't.
It hummed quietly beneath her skin.
Calm.
Listening.
Waiting.
Skye slowly lowered her hands.
Something inside her had changed.
Not her magic.
Her relationship with it.
Before she could examine the thought, something tugged beneath her ribs.
Skye inhaled sharply.
She pressed a hand against her chest.
There.
Again.
A pull.
Soft.
Almost delicate.
Like an invisible thread tied around her heart.
She turned.
The sensation strengthened.
“What are you?”
No answer.
Skye took one step.
The pull sharpened.
Her pulse quickened.
She took another.
Mist began separating ahead of her.
A narrow trail appeared between the trees.
Moss covered the ground.
Golden morning light spilled between the branches, though Skye had no idea where the sun was.
Or whether the Crucible even had one.
She followed.
Time didn't behave normally inside the Crucible.
Skye knew that much.
She could have been walking for ten minutes.
Or ten hours.
She never grew hungry.
The sun never shifted.
The mist never disappeared.
Only the pull changed.
Stronger.
Closer.
With every step, Skye became more certain.
She wasn't searching anymore.
She was being guided.
Eventually, the trees opened.
Skye stopped.
A spring rested in the center of a small clearing.
Perfectly circular.
Perfectly still.
Water bubbled upward from beneath a ring of ancient stones, yet somehow the surface remained smooth as glass.
Golden light glowed from somewhere beneath it.
Skye's breath caught.
Runes covered the surrounding moss.
She didn't recognize them.
Some curved like wings.
Others resembled claws.
One looked almost like an eye.
Skye approached carefully.
The pull beneath her ribs had become almost painful.
Her dragon.
This had to be it.
She circled the spring.
Nothing.
Her excitement faltered.
No egg.
She searched behind the stones.
Nothing.
“No.”
Skye looked around the clearing.
“Where are you?”
Silence.
She crouched beside the spring.
Disappointment sank through her.
Had she misunderstood?
Maybe the pull wasn't her dragon at all.
Maybe this was another test.
Another trick.
Skye reached toward the water.
Her fingertips touched the surface.
The world changed.
Warmth rushed through her hand.
The spring exploded with golden light.
Skye gasped.
She tried to pull away.
Couldn't.
The light traveled up her arm.
Across her chest.
Straight into her heart.
Her vision went white.
Then a voice whispered through her mind.
Not around her.
Inside.
“You are seen.”
Skye stopped breathing.
The voice was the same one from the beach.
Small.
Faint.
Ancient despite its childlike softness.
Tears burned unexpectedly behind her eyes.
Not from sadness.
From recognition.
Something she couldn't explain had just looked through every wall she had spent years building around herself.
Princess.
Daughter.
Sister.
Protector.
None of it mattered here.
Whatever spoke to her had seen beneath all of it.
Seen Skye.
Her fingers trembled against the water.
“I feel you.”
The spring brightened.
Skye leaned closer.
“Where are you?”
Silence.
Her heart sank.
“Please.”
Nothing.
Then—
Thump.
Skye froze.
A heartbeat.
Not hers.
She looked down.
Deep beneath the golden water, something moved.
A shadow.
Small.
Oval.
Skye's breath caught.
An egg?
She leaned closer.
The image disappeared.
“No—wait.”
The water became clear again.
Nothing rested beneath it.
Only stone.
Skye stared.
The pull inside her chest returned.
Stronger than ever.
She stood.
For the first time since waking on the shoreline, she wasn't afraid.
Her dragon was here.
Somewhere.
Watching.
Waiting.
And it had chosen to speak to her.
Skye wiped the unexpected moisture from beneath her eyes.
“Fine.”
She looked into the trees.
“You want me to find you?”
The golden runes surrounding the spring began to glow.
One after another.
A path.
Skye smiled.
“Then let's play.”
She followed the light.
The path led deeper into the forest.
With every step, the world grew darker.
The green canopy disappeared beneath twisted black branches.
Golden runes illuminated themselves beneath Skye's feet, guiding her forward.
The thread around her heart tightened.
Closer.
She was getting closer.
Skye quickened her pace.
Then she heard something.
A voice.
Not the dragon.
A man.
“Skye.”
She stopped.
Her smile vanished.
“Ashen?”
No answer.
She turned.
The path behind her was empty.
“Ashen?”
A shadow moved between the trees.
Skye followed it.
“Wait.”
The golden runes beneath her feet flickered.
The path ahead continued in one direction.
The shadow moved in another.
Skye hesitated.
“Ashen!”
The figure stopped.
Far between the trees stood a man.
Tall.
Broad-shouldered.
Dark hair.
Skye's heart kicked.
She stepped toward him.
The golden runes dimmed.
Something felt wrong.
“Ashen?”
The figure turned.
She couldn't see his face.
Only darkness.
Then moonlight caught something hanging from his neck.
Silver.
A snowflake crystal.
The same pendant Ashen wore.
Skye's pulse thundered.
“How are you here?”
The figure didn't answer.
He moved deeper into the woods.
Skye followed.
One step.
The thread around her heart pulled painfully in the opposite direction.
She stopped.
Her dragon wanted her to go back.
“Ashen?”
The figure vanished behind a tree.
Skye looked toward the glowing path.
Then toward the darkness.
Every instinct told her to follow the runes.
Every question she had about Ashen told her otherwise.
How had he recognized her?
Why had the Terraclaw feared him?
What element did he wield?
Why did his shadows move like living things?
And why had she seen him inside the vision before the Crucible began?
Skye clenched her jaw.
“This better not get me killed.”
She stepped off the golden path.
Every rune went dark.
The forest inhaled.
Skye froze.
The mist disappeared.
The trees changed.
Their bark blackened.
The temperature plummeted.
And somewhere in the darkness ahead—
Someone laughed.
Not Ashen.
Skye's blood went cold.
A voice whispered against her ear.
“Found you.”
She spun.
Nothing.
Then the ground disappeared beneath her.
Skye screamed.
She fell.
Darkness swallowed her.
The thread around her heart snapped tight.
And far away, something roared.
Not a Mossclaw.
Not a beast.
A dragon.
Her dragon.
For the first time, Skye understood exactly what the sound meant.
Run.
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