Chapter Seven
3627 Words
“Some say Light is the easiest path. They forget it shows everything—including what you’re trying to hide.”
— Alira Fen, former Lightbearer
The higher Skye climbed, the warmer the egg became.
The path to House Solari wound along Scaleborn's inner cliff, polished stone steps disappearing beneath arches of woven silverroot. Their pale branches twisted overhead like frozen lightning, their leaves translucent enough for sunlight to pass through them.
Far below, Scaleborn stretched across the floating island.
From here, Skye could see almost everything.
The waterfalls pouring endlessly into the clouds.
Dragons circling the academy towers.
Students crossing bridges that seemed impossibly thin from this height.
And somewhere beneath the western side of the academy, hidden beneath layers of stone and shadow, Ashen was descending toward House Umbra.
Don't trust everything Scaleborn shows you.
His warning refused to leave her.
Neither did the image of his egg.
Black.
Breathing.
Wrong.
Skye adjusted the golden egg in her arms.
Warmth immediately spread through her chest.
“Yeah,” she murmured. “I know. Worry about myself.”
The shell pulsed.
Skye stopped.
“Was that agreement?”
Another pulse.
Her eyes widened.
Then nothing.
Skye stared down at the egg.
A laugh escaped her.
“Great. You're already judging me.”
She continued upward.
With every step, the world below fell farther away.
By the time Skye reached the final staircase, sunlight had broken fully over the horizon.
It struck House Solari.
And the entire tower awakened.
Skye stopped.
“Oh…”
The entrance wasn't made from wood.
Or stone.
Or metal.
A massive door of translucent crystal stretched before her, tall enough that Aurezion could have walked beneath it without lowering his head.
Light moved through the crystal like living veins.
Gold.
Ivory.
Pale rose.
The colors shifted whenever Skye moved, like sunlight across morning dew.
But it wasn't the beauty of the door that held her.
It was the names.
Hundreds of them had been etched into the crystal.
No.
Thousands.
Some glowed brightly.
Others had faded until Skye could barely read them.
Generations of Lightbonded.
Skye stepped closer.
Names passed beneath her fingertips as she searched.
Warriors.
Scholars.
Kings.
Queens.
People she'd read about since childhood.
Then—
Skye stopped breathing.
There.
Her father's name.
Thalion Vealwyn.
Golden light shimmered inside the letters.
Skye stared.
Her father had stood here.
Years before she was born, King Thalion had climbed these same steps carrying his own egg.
She wondered if he'd been afraid.
The thought almost made her laugh.
Her father had always seemed incapable of fear when she was young.
Then Skye's gaze shifted.
Another name rested beside his.
Her mother.
Skye went still.
The noise of the world seemed to disappear.
Slowly, she raised her hand.
Her fingertips stopped just before touching the crystal.
She didn't.
Couldn't.
For a moment, Skye wasn't eighteen.
She wasn't an initiate.
She wasn't the princess of Nightshade.
She was a little girl trying desperately to remember the exact sound of her mother's laugh.
The way she smelled.
The warmth of her hand.
Memories faded in cruel ways.
Faces blurred.
Voices softened.
Tiny details disappeared no matter how desperately someone tried to hold onto them.
But her name remained.
Here.
Permanent.
Proof that once, years before Skye had ever dreamed of coming to Scaleborn, her mother had stood exactly where she stood now.
Skye swallowed against the ache in her throat.
“You made it.”
Her egg warmed.
She looked down.
“I guess it's my turn.”
Skye raised her hand toward the door.
Before her fingers touched it—
The crystal opened.
She stepped back.
A seam of golden light appeared down the center before the enormous doors silently separated.
Warm air brushed across her face.
House Solari waited.
Skye stepped inside.
Silence greeted her.
Not emptiness.
Silence.
There was a difference.
The Initiates' Tower had felt unfinished.
Temporary.
House Solari felt ancient.
Intentional.
Pale living stone formed sweeping corridors without visible seams. Walls curved naturally into ceilings as though the entire tower had been carved by light rather than hands.
White orbs floated inside shallow alcoves.
None flickered.
None cast shadows.
That unsettled Skye more than she expected.
Everywhere she looked, light reached.
Nothing remained hidden.
Some say Light is the easiest path.
Skye remembered the words etched into one of her training books.
They forget it shows everything—including what you're trying to hide.
Her footsteps sounded too loud.
She became aware of every breath.
Every movement.
Every thought she wished would quiet.
A woman waited beneath a circular archway.
Young.
Perhaps in her late twenties.
Brown hair had been braided into elaborate rings around her head. White and gold robes fell neatly around her body, and the symbol of House Solari rested above her heart.
A single eye surrounded by twelve rays.
The woman inclined her head.
“Welcome to House Solari, Initiate Vealwyn.”
Skye nodded.
“Thank you.”
The Lightbearer's gaze dropped toward the egg.
Her expression changed.
Not dramatically.
But Skye noticed.
Everyone seemed to react to the egg.
The woman stepped closer.
“The egg you carry bears the Mark of Illunari.”
Skye looked down.
“The what?”
“The Mark of Illunari.”
“That tells me absolutely nothing.”
For the briefest second, amusement touched the Lightbearer's face.
Then composure returned.
“You will learn.”
Skye resisted the urge to groan.
Apparently vague answers were a requirement for employment at Scaleborn.
The Lightbearer gestured toward a side corridor.
“Until the Binding, your egg will rest within a sanctified cradle.”
Skye's arms tightened instinctively.
The woman noticed.
“It will remain within your sight.”
Skye relaxed slightly.
“You will be clothed for ceremony, bathed in clarity, and remain silent until the rite begins.”
“Silent?”
The Lightbearer nodded.
“For how long?”
Silence.
Skye stared.
Apparently immediately.
She sighed and followed.
The first chamber held a pool.
Steam drifted across dark stone.
Runes glowed beneath the water, their pale golden light illuminating the chamber from below.
Skye recognized several.
Purification.
Truth.
Clarity.
One rune was unfamiliar.
She crouched beside the water.
The Lightbearer pointed toward the pool.
Skye looked at her.
Then the water.
Then back.
Still nothing.
“Right. Silence.”
The Lightbearer's mouth twitched.
Skye removed her uniform.
The wine-red fabric disappeared into the attendant's arms.
For the first time since leaving Nightshade, Skye felt strangely exposed without it.
The uniform had become proof that she belonged here.
Now even that was gone.
She stepped into the pool.
Warm water closed around her ankles.
Then her knees.
Her waist.
Skye inhaled.
Magic touched her immediately.
Not her skin.
Deeper.
The runes beneath the water brightened.
Skye continued until the water reached her shoulders.
Mist gathered.
The first veil passed through her.
Her entire body tingled.
Memories flashed.
Luna asleep against her shoulder.
Aurezion lowering his enormous head so she could touch his snout.
Her father's study.
Her mother's blood.
Skye flinched.
Another veil of mist passed.
The River of Tears.
Ashen standing knee-deep in the water.
The dark object beneath his cloak.
Rhy—
Skye opened her eyes.
The image vanished.
The water around her remained calm.
This wasn't merely cleansing her body.
It was searching her.
Removing nothing.
Hiding nothing.
Skye suddenly understood why the ritual demanded silence.
There was nowhere to talk her way around what she felt.
No joke.
No argument.
No distraction.
Only herself.
Skye closed her eyes again.
She let the next veil pass.
When she emerged, ceremonial garments waited.
Her uniform was gone.
In its place lay cream and muted gold.
The fitted trousers were pale gray, paired with high boots and a tailored cloak that divided at the waist to allow movement. Silver thread lined the edges, shimmering like starlight whenever Skye turned.
A rising sun clasp fastened beneath her throat.
Finally came a mantle of transparent gauze.
The sigil of House Solari rested across its back.
The eye.
The twelve rays.
Skye studied herself in the mirror.
She barely recognized the girl looking back.
Not because she looked different.
Because she looked like she belonged here.
An attendant approached.
Skye's hair was unbound.
For once, no braid contained the fiery strands. The woman carefully combed oil through them.
Starbloom.
Skye recognized the scent immediately.
The rare white flower supposedly grew only where dragons had once passed.
Another Lightbearer approached with a narrow brush.
Skye held still.
Powdered pearl mixed with light ink touched the space between her brows.
A small sun appeared.
Temporary.
A mark of initiation.
No one spoke.
Not one word.
When they finished, the same brown-haired Lightbearer returned.
Skye's egg rested in her arms.
The moment Skye saw it, tension she hadn't realized she carried disappeared.
The shell pulsed.
Thump.
Skye smiled.
The Lightbearer turned.
Skye followed.
The meditation chamber was circular.
Mirrored stone surrounded a central ring etched into the floor.
Skye's egg was placed within it.
Golden light immediately reflected from every wall.
One egg became dozens.
Hundreds.
Skye sat opposite it.
Her legs crossed beneath her.
Hands resting on her knees.
She breathed.
The egg pulsed.
Skye breathed again.
Another pulse.
Eventually, the rhythms synchronized.
Breath.
Heartbeat.
Egg.
Again.
Again.
Again.
Time disappeared.
The sun traveled across the domed ceiling.
Morning became midday.
Still Skye remained.
Her thoughts slowly quieted.
Nightshade faded.
The Crucible faded.
Even Ashen faded.
For once, Skye wasn't thinking about what came next.
She simply existed.
Then—
Scrape.
Her eyes opened.
The sound didn't belong.
Boots.
Heavy ones.
Somewhere beyond the chamber.
Skye remained still.
Another scrape.
Then voices.
Muffled.
Urgent.
Guards.
Her concentration shattered.
Skye stood.
The egg pulsed faster.
She moved toward the archway.
Two armored attendants appeared at the end of the corridor.
Someone hung between them.
An initiate.
A boy.
He couldn't have been much older than Skye.
His ceremonial robes were twisted and stained with sweat. His bare feet dragged across the floor.
His eyes were wild.
Terrified.
And in his arms—
Skye's stomach dropped.
An egg.
Or what remained of one.
Its shell was cracked from top to bottom.
No light moved beneath it.
No heartbeat.
No warmth.
Nothing.
The boy clutched it against his chest.
“No.”
One attendant tightened his hold.
“No, please.”
They kept walking.
“It was breathing this morning.”
The boy's voice broke.
Skye couldn't move.
“I felt it.”
He struggled.
The attendants caught him.
“It was breathing. I swear it was.”
Neither guard spoke.
That somehow made it worse.
They weren't angry.
They weren't surprised.
They looked tired.
Burdened.
Like they'd done this before.
Many times.
The boy noticed Skye.
For one terrible moment, their eyes met.
“Please.”
Skye's chest tightened.
She didn't know what he wanted from her.
Help?
Belief?
A miracle?
Then he was gone.
His voice echoed around the bend.
“No! Please! Give me another chance!”
Silence returned.
Skye remained frozen.
Her fingers pressed against the cold stone wall.
Behind her—
Thump.
Skye turned.
Her egg.
Thump.
Golden.
Warm.
Alive.
Relief hit her first.
Then guilt for feeling it.
Skye approached slowly.
The boy's voice remained in her head.
It was breathing this morning.
She crouched.
Her hands hovered above the shell.
What if it stops?
The thought came quietly.
Skye pushed it away.
What if it stops?
Her breathing changed.
No.
What if you fail?
Skye swallowed.
The egg pulsed.
What if it realizes it chose wrong?
“Stop.”
The word escaped before she remembered the vow of silence.
Nothing happened.
Skye stared at the egg.
The shell remained warm.
But fear had already found somewhere to live.
What if dragons could change their minds?
What if being chosen wasn't enough?
What if the boy had done everything right and still lost his?
What happened to an initiate whose egg died?
What happened to the dragon inside?
What happened—
Ring.
A bell chimed.
Skye flinched.
The Lightbearer stood behind her.
“It is time.”
The silence was over.
Skye looked toward her.
“What happened to him?”
The woman's expression remained composed.
“The Binding does not forgive dishonesty.”
Skye's blood chilled.
“What does that mean?”
“You will understand shortly.”
There it was again.
Skye almost laughed.
Of course.
She lifted her egg.
Its warmth immediately calmed something inside her.
The Lightbearer turned.
Skye followed.
The deeper they traveled into House Solari, the older the tower became.
The bright corridors narrowed.
Living stone gave way to something rougher.
Ancient.
Thin lines of golden light ran beneath Skye's feet, guiding them downward.
Finally, they reached a doorway.
The Lightbearer stopped.
Skye looked inside.
The Binding Chamber wasn't grand.
That surprised her.
There were no towering statues.
No elaborate banners.
No audience.
Only twelve stone pillars arranged around a circular platform.
Each pillar was carved with the symbol of a ray.
At the center rested smooth white crystal.
Light moved through the floor like veins beneath skin.
Names covered the walls.
Thousands.
Skye slowly entered.
Past Lightbonded.
Those who had stood here.
Those who had survived.
Some names glowed.
Others had faded almost completely.
Skye wondered what determined which remained.
At the center of the room stood a pedestal.
Waiting.
The ceiling above it opened directly to the sky.
Sunlight poured through.
Golden.
Warm.
Not blinding.
Skye's egg responded immediately.
Light swirled beneath the shell.
The Lightbearer approached the edge of the platform.
“The egg will not hatch until you open your soul.”
Skye looked at her.
“Open it how?”
“Not with your magic.”
The Lightbearer gestured toward the pedestal.
“Not with your title.”
Skye's throat tightened.
“Not with your name.”
The woman met her eyes.
“Just you.”
Skye looked toward the egg.
“What happens if I can't?”
The Lightbearer's expression didn't change.
Skye thought of the boy.
The broken shell.
She had her answer.
Slowly, Skye stepped onto the platform.
The crystal brightened beneath her boots.
One step.
Then another.
She reached the pedestal.
Her hands trembled as she lowered the egg onto it.
The moment she released it—
Thump.
The entire chamber answered.
Golden light traveled through the floor.
One pillar illuminated.
Then another.
Until all twelve burned.
Skye stepped backward.
Her pulse quickened.
The Lightbearer retreated beyond the circle.
“Close your eyes.”
Skye obeyed.
“Breathe.”
She inhaled.
The egg's warmth reached her even from several feet away.
“Do not call your Light.”
Skye exhaled.
“Do not reach for the dragon.”
Another breath.
“Let it reach for you.”
Silence.
Then—
Thump.
Skye heard the heartbeat.
Not through her ears.
Inside her.
Thump.
The world disappeared.
Skye opened her eyes.
Nightshade Castle stood before her.
She froze.
No.
Not the real castle.
A memory.
Her childhood bedroom.
Sunlight streamed through the windows.
Someone laughed behind her.
Skye's heart broke before she even turned.
Her mother.
Alive.
Smiling.
Skye couldn't breathe.
“Mom?”
Her mother extended a hand.
Skye stepped toward her.
The room changed.
Blood.
Fire.
Screaming.
Skye recoiled.
“No.”
Her mother disappeared.
King Thalion stood in her place.
His face was hard.
“You should have protected her.”
Skye stared.
“What?”
The scene changed.
Luna.
Her sister stood alone in the throne room.
Older.
Crying.
“You left me.”
“No.”
Skye moved toward her.
Luna stepped backward.
“You always leave.”
“I didn't—”
Darkness swallowed her.
Voices surrounded Skye.
Princess.
Daughter.
Sister.
Failure.
The same voices from the Crucible.
Skye covered her ears.
“Stop.”
They grew louder.
You couldn't save your mother.
“I was a child.”
You cannot save Luna.
“She doesn't need saving.”
Your father sent you away.
“To protect me.”
Did he?
Skye's breath caught.
The darkness shifted.
Ashen appeared.
He stood with his back toward her.
“Ashen?”
He turned.
Blood covered his hands.
Skye froze.
Behind him stood Nightshade Castle.
Burning.
“No.”
Ashen smiled.
Not his usual smirk.
Something colder.
“You knew better, Red.”
Skye stepped backward.
“No.”
“You knew something was wrong.”
His shadows spread.
“And you followed me anyway.”
“Get out of my head.”
Ashen disappeared.
The darkness remained.
Skye trembled.
Then she understood.
Light shows everything.
Not truth.
Everything.
Every fear.
Every doubt.
Every thought she had buried so deeply she could pretend it wasn't there.
The Binding wasn't asking her to defeat them.
It was asking her to admit they existed.
Skye slowly lowered her hands.
“I couldn't save my mother.”
The darkness shifted.
Her voice trembled.
“I was a child.”
A golden light appeared somewhere far away.
“I am afraid I'll fail Luna.”
The light brightened.
“I'm afraid my father will die while I'm here.”
Another light.
“I'm afraid Rhylar Thornshield will destroy everything I love before I'm strong enough to stop him.”
Her eyes burned.
“And I'm afraid of Ashen.”
Silence.
Skye swallowed.
Not because she thought he would hurt her.
That would have been easier.
“I'm afraid because I don't trust him.”
The darkness listened.
“And I still keep following him.”
Golden light spread beneath her feet.
Skye laughed weakly.
“That's probably incredibly stupid.”
Something warm brushed against her mind.
Not words.
Amusement.
Skye stopped.
“Was that you?”
The darkness cracked.
Golden light poured through.
Skye stared.
Her dragon.
She could feel it.
Closer than before.
Warmth wrapped around her heart.
Not judging.
Not demanding.
Simply there.
Skye closed her eyes.
“I don't know what I'm doing.”
The presence remained.
“I've spent years pretending I do.”
Warmth spread through her chest.
“I don't know if I'm worthy of you.”
The answer came immediately.
Not a voice.
A feeling.
Certain.
Steady.
You are.
Skye's breath broke.
A tear slid down her cheek.
For once, she didn't wipe it away.
“Okay.”
The darkness shattered.
Skye gasped.
She was back in the Binding Chamber.
Golden light surrounded her.
The twelve pillars blazed.
Her cheeks were wet.
Across from her, the egg shook.
Skye froze.
A thin crack appeared across its shell.
Her heart stopped.
The boy.
His broken egg.
“No.”
Panic surged.
The crack spread.
“Wait—”
The Lightbearer didn't move.
Another crack.
Then another.
Golden light poured through them.
Skye stared.
This wasn't death.
The heartbeat inside the egg thundered.
Thump.
A piece of shell fell onto the pedestal.
Skye stopped breathing.
Something moved inside.
A tiny claw broke through.
Golden.
Another fragment fell.
Skye covered her mouth.
The shell split wider.
Light exploded through the chamber.
Skye squeezed her eyes shut.
A sound pierced the air.
Small.
Sharp.
Alive.
She opened her eyes.
A dragon stared back at her.
Tiny compared to Aurezion, but unmistakable.
Its scales were pale gold, almost translucent along the edges. Ivory ran along its chest and beneath its jaw. Two small horns swept backward from its head, still soft and rounded from the egg.
Its wings were folded awkwardly against its body.
And its eyes—
Skye forgot everything else.
They were white-gold.
Bright as stars.
The hatchling blinked.
Skye blinked back.
Neither moved.
Then the dragon sneezed.
A burst of golden light struck Skye directly in the face.
She stumbled backward.
The Lightbearer made a strangled sound.
Skye wiped glowing dust from her cheek.
“Did you just—”
The hatchling chirped.
Skye stared.
The dragon tilted its head.
Skye laughed.
She couldn't stop herself.
The sound echoed around the sacred chamber.
The hatchling scrambled awkwardly from the remains of its shell.
One foot slipped.
Skye lunged forward.
“Careful.”
Her hands caught it.
The instant her skin touched its scales—
The world stopped.
Skye's heartbeat vanished.
Then returned twice.
Hers.
And another.
A bond snapped into place between them.
Not a chain.
Not ownership.
Recognition.
Warmth flooded every part of her.
Memories that weren't hers brushed against her mind.
Darkness inside an egg.
Her voice.
Her fear.
Her laughter.
The spring.
The Crucible.
You are seen.
Skye gasped.
“That was you.”
The hatchling pressed its forehead against hers.
A voice, clearer than before, whispered inside her mind.
Skye.
Her knees nearly gave out.
“You know my name.”
The dragon chirped.
Of course it did.
It had known her before she'd ever held its egg.
Tears slipped freely down Skye's cheeks now.
She laughed through them.
The hatchling climbed clumsily into her arms and curled against her chest.
Skye held it.
For the first time since her mother's death, something inside her felt completely still.
Not healed.
Not fixed.
Simply—
Seen.
Behind her, the Lightbearer finally spoke.
“Welcome, Lightbonded.”
Skye looked up.
The woman's composed expression was gone.
She was smiling.
Then the dragon in Skye's arms suddenly stiffened.
Its head lifted.
The white-gold eyes turned toward the western wall.
Toward House Umbra.
Skye's smile faded.
“What is it?”
The hatchling's wings tightened against its body.
A low sound came from its throat.
Not fear.
Warning.
Far beneath Scaleborn, something answered.
A roar.
Deep enough to shake dust from the ancient pillars.
The Lightbearer's smile vanished.
Skye stared toward the west.
Her dragon pressed closer against her chest.
And inside her mind came one word.
Clearer than any it had spoken before.
Void.
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