The procession of one hundred hopefuls snaked its way from the main courtyard towards the Grand Guesthouse, a long, chattering river of anxiety and ambition. The girls talked amongst themselves, speculating about the mysterious test the Queen had promised. But amidst the noise, one girl walked in silence, her head tilted slightly, as if listening to a sound no one else could hear.
Lyra's brow furrowed in confusion. Her human senses were dull, but the dragon blood within her was sharp. It could track a scent across miles, could feel the presence of the one she owed her life to. But now… there was nothing.
"Strange," she whispered to herself, her voice lost in the crowd. "I can't smell him."
She stopped dead in her tracks, the other girls flowing around her like a rock in a stream. Her eyes scanned the horizon, past the castle spires, towards the rugged, forested mountains that loomed over the kingdom. A faint, familiar pull, like a thread connecting her to him, led in that direction.
"He's not here," she stated, her voice gaining a sudden, unnerving certainty. Without another word, she turned and broke away from the group, heading directly towards the mountain path.
"Excuse me! Miss!" a cheerful voice called out from behind her.
Rina Cloverfield, ever helpful, had noticed the girl's sudden detour. She jogged to catch up, a bright, slightly concerned smile on her face. "The guesthouse is this way! You're going the wrong way!"
Lyra didn't even turn around. She didn't seem to hear. Her pace quickened, her singular focus driving her onward.
"Hey, wait!" Rina called again, a little more insistently. When the girl continued to ignore her, Rina's concern won over. What if she's lost? Or sick? With a determined huff, Rina hurried after her. "Wait up! It's dangerous to go into the mountains alone!"
From the back of the crowd, sharp eyes watched the entire exchange. Talia Fernwell leaned against a stone wall, her arms crossed. She hadn't been fooled by the girl's quiet demeanor. There was something… off about her. The way she moved, the intensity in her eyes when she looked at the castle.
That girl… Talia thought, her eyes narrowing. She's not human. She has dragon's blood in her. The realization sent a jolt through her. Was she another spy? Or something else entirely? Suspicion gnawing at her, Talia pushed herself off the wall and began to follow them, keeping a safe distance. She needed to know what a dragon-kin was doing heading for the mountains near the royal rookery.
High above, perched invisibly on a castle turret, Eira Moonveil observed the scene with a detached, academic interest. She watched the brown-haired village girl chase after the mysterious dark-haired one, followed by the suspicious red-haired dragon rider.
A small, almost imperceptible smile touched her lips. "Hehe, this is interesting," she murmured to herself. Three variables had just diverged from the controlled experiment. This was an unexpected development, and in science, unexpected developments were often the most revealing.
With a graceful flick of her wrist, she summoned her silver broomstick. It zoomed to her side, and she mounted it silently. Like a hawk observing its prey, she soared into the air, following the trail of the three girls below.
And as the four of them converged on the mountain path, a fifth figure melted into the shadows behind them. Seraphine Noctalis, her hood pulled low, moved with a silent, predatory grace. The sun was beginning to set, casting long, dark shadows that were her element. She had seen the entire spectacle from the edge of the crowd. Wherever this strange exodus was leading, it was certainly more interesting than a crowded guesthouse. With the preternatural stealth of a two-hundred-year-old vampire, she followed, a ghost on their trail.
Deep within the castle rookery, Prince Aiden found his sanctuary. The air was thick with the musky, comforting scent of dragon, old leather, and straw. The rhythmic, ground-shaking snores of a sleeping Mountain Dragon acted as the perfect white noise, drowning out the petty dramas of the court. He was completely absorbed in his book, a dense historical text about the first Dragon Riders.
But then, a prickle of awareness crawled up his spine.
It wasn't a sound. It was a feeling. A subtle shift in the air, a faint vibration that seemed to resonate with the very stone around him. It was the same feeling he got when a large dragon was flying nearby, but this was different. It was… closer. More deliberate.
He slowly lowered his book, his eyes narrowing as he stared at the rookery's dark entrance tunnel.
"Nimbus," he said, his voice quiet. "Are you feeling that too?"
From his perch high above, the great dragon shifted, his scales scraping softly against the stone. He craned his long neck down, his ancient, intelligent eyes fixed on the same dark tunnel.
"Yes," Nimbus rumbled, his voice a low, gravelly hum. "I feel it. Dragons are approaching."
Aiden tensed, his hand instinctively going to the small, ceremonial dagger at his belt. "Dragons? Here? Are they trying to attack the rookery?" The thought was absurd. The rookery was heavily warded, and no wild dragon would be foolish enough to approach it.
Nimbus let out a low, chuckling sound that was half-grunt, half-purr. "No, not an attack," the dragon reassured him. "Their approach is… curious. Peaceful, even."
He paused, his head tilting as if listening to a silent conversation on the wind.
"They are all friends of mine," Nimbus added, a note of profound amusement in his voice.
Aiden's brow furrowed in confusion. Friends of his? The only dragons that were "friends" with Nimbus were the royal family's own bonded mounts, and they were all in their stalls. This was something else entirely.
He stood up, placing his book carefully on a bale of hay. The feeling grew stronger, a pull of multiple presences drawing nearer. He and Nimbus exchanged a look.
Aiden looked annoyed. Nimbus looked deeply entertained.
Something—or rather, someones—was about to crash into his private, perfectly quiet escape.
"Good, then," Aiden muttered, shrugging off the strange feeling. If they were Nimbus's friends, they were none of his concern. He settled back against the warm scales of the sleeping Mountain Dragon and raised his book, determined to lose himself in the history of long-dead heroes.
But before he could read a single word, a soft, breathy voice whispered right next to his ear.
"Found you."
Aiden flinched so hard he nearly dropped his book. He snapped his head to the side and found himself staring into a pair of intense, unblinking eyes. It was the dark-haired girl from the courtyard, Lyra. Her face was inches from his, so close he could feel the warmth of her breath. Her expression was one of pure, unadulterated bliss.
"Woah!" Aiden scrambled backward, dropping his book into the hay as he tried to put distance between them. His heart hammered against his ribs.
The girl followed his movement, her gaze never leaving his face. "Aiden… oh, Aiden… I missed you so much," she breathed, her voice filled with a terrifying, all-consuming devotion.
Aiden stared at her, his mind racing. He had never seen this girl in his life. "Who… who are you?"
Before he could get an answer, another voice, panting and exasperated, echoed from the rookery tunnel.
"Wait!! I told you, the guesthouse isn't this way!"
Rina Cloverfield stumbled into the rookery, leaning against the stone wall to catch her breath. She had chased the strange girl all the way up the mountain. She looked up, her eyes adjusting to the dim light, and her jaw dropped.
There was the strange girl, fawning over a young man. And that young man… was wearing a fine velvet doublet. He wasn't a gardener or a stable hand.
"Ehh? Prince, why are you here?" Rina blurted out, her eyes wide with shock. She immediately clapped a hand over her mouth, horrified that she had spoken to royalty so informally.
Aiden's head snapped from the intense, strange girl to the breathless, commoner girl. His quiet sanctuary was now officially invaded. He turned his eyes upward to the only sane being in the vicinity.
"Nimbus," he hissed, his voice a mix of confusion and frustration. "How did they know I was here?"
From the shadows of the tunnel entrance, Talia stood frozen, her hand resting on the hilt of the dagger hidden in her tunic. She watched the scene unfold, her mind working overtime. The dark-haired girl was definitely dragon-kin, and her devotion to the prince was unsettling. The brown-haired village girl was just… there. An innocent complication. This was getting more complicated by the second.
High above, circling silently on her broomstick, Eira Moonveil watched the confrontation with keen interest. Subject A (Prince) displays a startle response. Subject B (Lyra) exhibits obsessive behavior. Subject C (Rina) acts as an unexpected catalyst. Fascinating.
And deeper in the shadows, hidden from all, Seraphine Noctalis watched with a smirk. The prince's hiding place had been discovered by a gaggle of girls. This castle was going to be far more entertaining than she had ever dared to hope.
Aiden stared at the dark-haired girl, his mind a complete blank. Her desperate, possessive gaze was unnerving, and he had absolutely no memory of ever meeting her.
"I… I'm sorry, but I don't…" he stammered, trying to be polite despite his growing unease. "You seem to be a rare species, but… do I know you?"
Lyra's face fell, a look of profound disappointment clouding her features. "Aiden, you don't remember me?"
"Who… who are you, again?" he asked, genuinely confused.
"So, you've forgotten me," she whispered. But then, the disappointment vanished, replaced by a chillingly sweet smile. "It's okay. I'll make you remember."
Her eyes gleamed with determination. "I'll make you remember who I am by winning this selection. And then…" She took a step closer, her hand reaching out to grab his. "You will be mine."
Her fingers closed around his wrist. A jolt, not of romance, but of pure, unadulterated terror, shot through Aiden. He tried to pull away, but her grip was surprisingly strong.
"Nimbus, help me!!" he yelped, his voice cracking.
From the tunnel entrance, Rina, who had been watching the bizarre exchange with wide-eyed confusion, finally found her voice. "Uh, you two should probably get back to the castle," she called out, pointing a thumb over her shoulder. "It's getting dark!"
Suddenly, a shrill shriek cut through the air. "EWWWW!!!!"
Talia, who had been hiding in the shadows, burst into the open. She was frantically brushing at her leg, her face a mask of horror. A small, fuzzy caterpillar was crawling on her boot. "Get it off! Get this disgusting thing off me!" she screamed, panicking. In her blind terror, she ran straight towards the nearest person—Aiden—and threw her arms around him, hiding her face in his shoulder.
"Umm, who are you now? umm…" Aiden stammered, now frozen in place with one girl holding his hand and another clinging to his arm.
"Nimbus!!"
"Yes, my lord?" the dragon rumbled, sounding utterly unbothered.
"Get rid of it!"
"As you wish." With a flick of his massive, powerful tail, Nimbus gently flicked the caterpillar off Talia's boot. The tiny creature flew through the air in a high arc.
Unfortunately, its trajectory was perfect. It landed right on the pointed hat of a certain elf mage who was just descending on her broomstick.
Eira Moonveil's face, usually a mask of calm logic, turned a shade of pale green. Her analytical mind shut down, replaced by a primal, instinctual revulsion. She dropped from the sky the last few feet, landing gracefully beside the prince, and immediately hugged him for protection, burying her face in his other shoulder.
"Again!!" Aiden wailed, his face now turning a bright shade of crimson. He was now being hugged by two girls, with a third still holding his wrist. This was a new level of nightmare.
"Nimbus!!"
"Yes, my lord?" the dragon repeated, a hint of amusement in his tone.
"Throw it away!"
"My pleasure." Nimbus's tail whipped through the air again, sending the caterpillar flying into a dark, unoccupied corner of the rookery.
A faint, disgusted shriek came from the shadows. "Ewww, a caterpillar!!!"
In a blur of motion, Seraphine Noctalis shot out from the darkness and, seeing the prince as the only safe harbor in this insect-infested nightmare, she latched onto his back.
That was it. That was the final straw. Being hugged from the front, the side, and from behind, by three different, hysterical girls, was more than any prince—sarcastic or not—could handle.
Prince Aiden Dravenheart's eyes rolled back into his head, and with a soft groan, he fainted, collapsing into a heap of limbs and royal velvet.
Lyra stared, confused. Rina stared, horrified. Talia and Eira, still clinging to the now-unconscious prince, looked up in dazed surprise. Meanwhile, Seraphine Noctalis—firmly wrapped around Aiden's back—showed no intention whatsoever of letting go. Her expression didn't change: calm, satisfied… and very comfortable exactly where she was.
Rina, ever the practical one, finally took charge. "All of you, let go of him! We need to get back to the castle. Now!" she ordered, her voice filled with authority. "The selection event is about to start, and the prince is… unconscious!"