"Why do the men always have the honor to fight in war when women have the power to bring the army down to there knees"
A ruthless man is nothing but a man
A ruthless woman is everything a man wishes he could be.
What happens if the rebellion didn't...
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The days blurred together in a haze of exhaustion and anticipation. I had barely caught my breath from the Gauntlet before we were thrust into the next phase of training. Noah—our new instructor—was relentless. His presence was quieter than Xaden's, but no less commanding. Where Xaden's sharp tongue kept everyone on edge, Noah's cool and calculating demeanor had a way of making the air feel heavier, like we were all walking on the edge of a blade.
Our sessions were now focused on tactics, strategy, and—most importantly—dragons. It didn't take long for the conversation to shift, as it always did, toward the Threshing. It was inescapable.
We were huddled in the main training room, the heavy smell of leather and sweat thick in the air as Noah paced in front of us. His boots clacked against the stone floor with every step. Behind him, a giant map of the kingdom loomed on the wall, dotted with locations where the rebellion had made small advances, but the weight of our survival wasn't in those cities anymore. No. It was in the sky.
"You've all survived the Gauntlet," Noah said, his voice steady, a hint of something dark in it. "But there is no survival without your dragon."
The words hung in the air like a curse.
The Gauntlet was nothing. The real test would be when the dragons decided our fates.
"The Threshing is less than a month away," Noah continued, his gaze shifting over the group. I could feel the tension building in my chest. It was hard not to look at Violet. Her eyes were focused on the ground, her lips pressed tight. I didn't know if she was terrified of the Threshing or just hoping that I wouldn't see the fear behind her usual bravado.
The Threshing. The moment when a dragon would decide who would be their rider—or leave them to die.
"We've had cadets in the past who survived every test, every obstacle," Noah said, pausing just long enough for the words to sink in. "But they didn't survive the Threshing. Because a rider without a dragon is dead."
The room fell silent. The only sound was the rustling of fabric as everyone shifted uncomfortably in their seats. Violet's fists were clenched at her sides, her knuckles white. She was either holding back or she was already over it. I wasn't sure which. The Threshing would be a turning point for all of us, and not just for the ones who had something to prove, like me and Violet.
"The dragons know," Noah said softly, almost as if talking to himself. "They're not just beasts—they're the pulse of this kingdom. They choose their riders. It's an instinct, a bond. And when they make that choice... it's not something you can refuse. It's a contract with your very soul."
A low murmur of uncertainty ran through the room. I knew what they were thinking: Could they survive this? Was this some kind of final test they would fail before it even began?
"Most of you," Noah continued, "have never seen a dragon outside of training. You've heard stories, you've seen the fire in the distance. But you don't know what it feels like. The weight of their presence. The bond that forms between them and the rider when they choose you. It's not something you can prepare for, and it's not something that can be controlled."
A few cadets shifted nervously, avoiding eye contact. I wasn't the only one feeling a twinge of fear. The Threshing was coming. Soon, we would be put to the test in ways none of us could predict.
"They'll test you," Noah said, his voice growing colder. "It's not just about whether or not they'll choose you. It's about how they'll choose you. Whether you're worthy. Whether you have what it takes to be their rider. If you fail... you're nothing. Dead weight."
I felt my stomach churn at the finality of his words. It was harsh, brutal. But there was truth in it. Dragons didn't care about your feelings or how much you fought. They cared about one thing: who would be worthy enough to stand with them when the world burned.
Noah paused again, and I caught a glimpse of his expression—a flicker of something hard in his eyes. "There will be no mercy," he added, his voice cutting through the silence like a blade.
Violet shifted next to me, her hand unconsciously brushing against mine. I didn't know if it was deliberate or just nerves, but I didn't pull away. She was probably just as scared as I was, no matter how much she tried to hide it. We both had something to prove—especially now that the Threshing was looming ahead.
The weight of our survival didn't just rest on the Gauntlet anymore. It was about the dragons. About the bond that would either lift us up or crush us.
"If you're not chosen," Noah said, his eyes locking onto each of us in turn, "you're dead. No amount of skill, no amount of training will save you."
The words hit hard, and I felt the pulse of dread tighten in my chest. I had always known the risk of being a rider was high. But now, hearing it from Noah, hearing it from someone who had seen the aftermath, it felt more real than it ever had before.
"The Threshing is a culling," Noah continued, his voice now low but certain. "A dragon will only choose the worthy. And the rest..." He let the sentence hang in the air like a shadow. "The rest will be left behind."
I glanced over at Xaden, standing at the back of the room with his arms crossed. He was listening, but there was no hint of fear in his eyes. Only cold calculation.
"Remember this," Xaden said, his voice carrying over the room when Noah fell silent. "A rider without a dragon is as good as dead. The dragons will choose their riders. If you're not chosen, if you're left behind, you're nothing. Not a warrior. Not a rebel. You're just dead weight."
The chill in the air thickened. His words cut through me with the finality of a death sentence. The Threshing wasn't just a ceremony. It was the end of everything we had fought for, or the beginning of something new.
"Well, welcome to the apocalypse, cadets," Xaden added, his voice dark and biting. "You'll either rise with your dragon or fall without it. That's the reality of war."
