The sky wept with him, or for him. Cold, relentless rain soaked through my fine academy uniform, plastering my silver hair to my skull, but I couldn’t feel it. A profound numbness had settled deep in my bones, a chilling void where the warmth of my family used to be. I wiped a hand across my face, a futile gesture to clear away the rain and the tears that mixed with it. Kaelus nudged his massive head against my shoulder, a silent, rumbling comfort that was the only real thing in a world that had just disintegrated.

  The Headmaster and Nyxia stood before me, their expressions a study in sorrow and shock. I had to put on the mask. I had to play the part.

  Taking a shuddering breath that felt like inhaling broken glass, I faced the old man. “Headmaster,” I said, my voice shaking despite my best efforts to control it. “Thank you for your hospitality, and for your most generous offer. It seems I will be burdening you for a while longer.”

  The Headmaster’s ancient, knowing eyes saw right through the flimsy ruse. He played along, his tone gentle. “It is no burden, Alarion. A wise choice. I will have your appointment letter as an academy instructor drafted. You will have it by tomorrow morning.” He then turned his gaze to the colossal, grieving dragon beside me. “Little one… Kaelus. Could you perhaps assume a less… conspicuous form?”

  Kaelus let out a snort, a puff of ozone-laced air that ruffled the Headmaster’s robes. Arrogance was a dragon’s birthright, and right now, his grief had sharpened it into pure, unrestrained fury. If not for my silent, desperate mental command a moment ago, he would have already turned this floating continent into a graveyard for every student with elven or Cinderfall lineage.

  I met his gaze and gave a single, slow nod. With a sigh of pure draconic displeasure, Kaelus began to shrink. The thirty-meter beast shimmered, contracting in on himself until he was the size of a large house cat, his nebulae-like scales still shimmering with cosmic light. He leaped with impossible grace onto my shoulder, his weight a comforting anchor.

  Brother, you are too lenient, his voice echoed in my mind, a low rumble of promised violence.

  No, I replied, my own thoughts cold and sharp as forged steel. We are being patient. Our time will come. Mark my words, Kaelus, I will erase those two kingdoms from the face of this planet.

  The Headmaster let out a long, weary sigh. “You must be exhausted. Go to your quarters. Rest.”

  As I turned, Nyxia stumbled forward, her hand outstretched, her face a mask of conflict. “Wight…” she began, but I walked past her without a glance. I didn’t have the strength to talk to anyone, least of all her. My world had narrowed to a single, sharp point of pain.

  All I wanted was to grieve my family. This was the loss of a love I had only just learned to accept, a love I would never feel again.

  The walk back to the Azure Spire was a blur. Bob and Patricia followed in silence, their own devastation a palpable aura behind me. I knew Bob’s mind must be on his younger brother, George, who had become a castle guard. I knew Patricia’s entire world had been my mother. She was an orphan, a former slave girl taken in and treated like a daughter. Her loyalty to my mother had been absolute. Now, that center of her universe was gone.

  The moment the door to my suite clicked shut, the strength I’d been feigning abandoned me. I leaned back against the wall, my legs giving way, and slid to the cold floor in a heap. Kaelus immediately hopped off my shoulder and began nudging his cute, draconic face against my cheek, trying to offer what comfort he could.

  But there was no comfort. Only the pain, sharp and visceral, as flashes of memory assaulted me. I thought the image of Lyra’s painted face would be the most agonizing, but I was wrong. It was my mother’s voice. The way she called me ‘cream pie,’ a silly, embarrassing endearment that had become the sound of unconditional love.

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  I would never hear those words again. The realization was a physical blow, knocking the air from my lungs.

  A choked sob from across the room brought me back to reality. Patricia was on her knees, her body wracked with silent, hiccuping sobs, her professional composure utterly shattered.

  I forced myself to speak, my voice raspy. “House Wight is no more. You two… you are free. Go wherever you wish.”

  Bob moved instantly, dropping to one knee before me with a thud of armored plate on polished wood. “Master,” he said, his voice a low, unwavering bedrock of conviction. “The knights of Wight swore an oath to the bloodline. And the bloodline still stands.” He took a deep breath, his gauntleted fists clenched so tight his knuckles must have been white beneath the steel. “You are my commander now. If it weren’t for the system your family built, I would still be a farmer tilling the fields. I will not forsake that debt.”

  He would not take no for an answer. I gave him a small, tired nod.

  Seeing this, Patricia knelt as well, her words broken by sobs. “The one… I swore to protect… is no longer in this world. But the one she held most dear… still is. I shall serve… and protect you… until my last breath.” It was the longest, most emotional sentence I had ever heard her speak.

  I closed my eyes. “If that is what you both wish, so be it. But I implore you, walk away. The path I am about to embark on is one of danger and bloodshed.”

  “We stand behind our lord,” they said in perfect, unrehearsed unison. “Even if he leads us to our deaths.”

  A cold resolve settled over my grief, encasing it in ice. I pushed myself up, my legs like lead, my hands using the wall for support. The action felt monumental, a battle against the crushing gravity of my own sorrow. My hands shook as I unrolled a map on the table, the parchment crinkling in the dead silence of the room. For a moment, the lines blurred, and all I could see was Lyra’s face smeared with paint, my father’s rare, proud smile. I blinked hard, forcing the images away, forcing the world back into sharp, unforgiving focus.

  “Here is the plan,” I said, my voice brittle, hollow. It was the voice of a ghost.

  “First, we leave. Tonight. We exit Draconia Academy undetected and travel overland. Our destination is the Ironfang Coast, the northernmost territory of the Dwarven Forge-Kingdom of Khaz’Modan. It’s a network of grim, industrial fjords, sparsely populated and perfect for sourcing raw materials without drawing attention.”

  I pointed to a location on the map. “Second, we find a hidden location and build a vessel. A ship capable of traversing the Maelstrom Sea.”

  My finger traced a path across the treacherous ocean to the separate, shadowed continent on the edge of the map. “Our target is the Obsidian Dominion. It is the only one of the Seven Kingdoms where power is the only law. Might makes right. The other six kingdoms are entangled in alliances on the main continent; the Dominion is isolated. It is the perfect place to build an army in the shadows. Furthermore, it’s riddled with unattended dungeons. No one will question a few dozen missing cores. In fact, they’ll probably thank us for clearing them out.”

  I looked up, meeting their shattered expressions, mirrors of the abyss within my own chest. There would be time for this pain. Later. When the work was done.

  “We will mourn when we are safe,” I said, the words tasting like ash in my mouth. “We will grieve when our enemies are dead. For now… for now, there is only work.”

  I turned to Kaelus, who was perched on my shoulder again, a silent predator. “Can you carry us? The armor will make too much noise.”

  Only my brother may sit upon my back, he stated, his pride unassailable even in grief.

  I looked at Bob. “Aquarius?”

  Bob shook his head, his face grim. “He has gone to protect his King, Master. All thirty dragons contracted to the Dragon Knights of Wight are doing the same. From the final message I received from Aquarius… it’s as if the knights themselves have vanished into thin air. He believes their contracts were forcibly severed. Only I remain, likely because I was here, on neutral ground.”

  He was truly the last one. The finality of it was a fresh stab of pain I had to ruthlessly suppress.

  I looked back at Kaelus. “So?”

  They are your retainers. I will not have them ride me, he huffed. But I will carry them in my hind claws.

  I let out a breath that wasn't a sigh of frustration, but of profound, soul-deep exhaustion. It would have to do. The boy who wanted a quiet life of research and family was dead, burned to cinders in the ruins of his home. All that remained was this cold, hard ember.

  And an ember is all you need to start an inferno.