Dragon's Rise

CHAPTER XXXVIII.

At the break of dawn, the rebellion rises, and so does Rielle. She soars into the skies atop Raiden, her dragon's wings cutting through the morning mist like blades of shadow and light. Below, the city of Northcrest sprawls, her kingdom—a crown of stone and fire waiting to be reclaimed. The winds scream her fury, and lightning coils in her veins, ready to strike. For those who stand in her path, mercy will not come; the heavens themselves will burn before she lets her legacy fall.

୨⎯ AIDEN HALE ⎯୧

Aiden sat on the edge of the cliff, where the wind carried salt and sea spray, and the waves roared against the rocks far below. The night stretched vast and unending, the moon a pale sentinel above, casting its glow over the restless waters and the quiet forms of the dragons.

Zephyra sat beside him, her sapphire scales shimmering like liquid starlight beneath the moon, her presence both steady and silent. She had come with him every night, as if she understood without words the weight he carried, a quiet companion against the storm inside him.

The past week had drained him to the bone—his mind, his body, his spirit. Every demand, every choice, every burden. So he came here. He used to find solace among Rielle's dragons, their gentleness soothing him like a balm. But now, he sought the Silver Army's dragons—their power and intensity were less forgiving, yet in their primal strength, he found a kind of peace. It wasn't quiet, but it was honest, and sometimes, that was enough.

Aiden hears the low, rumbling growl from Zephyra beside him, her sky blue eyes narrowing in the dark. That's when he notices it—the soft crunch of footsteps over gravel, nearing. He turns his head and freezes for just a moment.

Cleo.

Her hair, silver as starlight, seemed to catch the moon's glow, a halo of light framing her face as she walked toward him. Every time he saw her like this, Aiden felt his breath falter, stolen away by a beauty that felt too otherworldly to belong to this mortal plane.

"You weren't at dinner," she says softly, her voice cutting through the quiet like a soft ripple across still water. Then, with a small tilt of her head, she motions to the empty space beside him.

Aiden can't help but smile, as if just seeing her makes the weight of everything a little easier to bear. "Sit," he says, patting the ground beside him.

Cleo raises an eyebrow, her expression a mix of amusement and challenge. "I thought you knew by now that I don't like being ordered around, Princeling," she replies, crossing her arms over her chest.

Aiden feigns a dramatic bow. "Forgive me, my lady." He watches as a faint blush rises to her cheeks before she quickly hides it, but he says nothing. "Would you do me the honor of sitting beside me?" he asks, his voice warm and teasing.

He turns to Zephyra, who watches Cleo's approach with a look of draconic skepticism.

"Let me guess," Zephyra says dryly, her deep voice vibrating like thunder, "you want to be alone with Nieves's chosen?"

"Yes. If it's okay with you, Zephyra," Aiden replies, his tone light but not unkind.

Zephyra huffs in response, sending a warm gust of air toward Cleo before turning away. "Don't say I didn't warn you," she mutters, taking to the skies to join her siblings, her sapphire scales vanishing into the night like a falling star.

Cleo lowers herself beside him, folding her legs, and glances up at the retreating dragon. "She doesn't like me," she says, though there's a teasing lilt to her voice, a small, knowing smile curving her lips.

Aiden turns to her, the sight of her smile striking him harder than it should—goddess above. "That's impossible," he murmurs, his voice quieter now, softer. "Who could ever dislike you?"

He nudges her playfully, and Cleo lets out a light laugh. That sound—he could live his entire life in that moment, in the way her laughter rises into the air like the gentlest song, like the first warmth of dawn breaking through the night. And her smile—gods, her smile. The corners of her lips lift just so, and her eyes shimmer like twin oceans under the moonlight, holding depths he couldn't begin to fathom. Aiden finds himself awed, as he always is.

He wants to memorize it—every curve, every glimmer, every flicker of her smile—and lock it inside him forever. To hold onto it when the world felt too heavy, when his days grew darker than he could bear. Because when Cleo smiled, it felt like light breaking through endless shadow.

"You're staring," Cleo says, her voice quiet but tinged with amusement.

Aiden blinks, pulled from his thoughts, and his lips curl into a sheepish smile. "Can you blame me?" he replies softly. "It's a view worth losing yourself in."

Her gaze flickers to his, something unreadable lingering there, and for a moment, the world feels still, the waves below falling silent, the stars above holding their breath.

Cleo looks down, her voice soft as a whisper carried by the wind. "You've been so busy this past week that I never got the chance to check up on you... to ask how you were."

Her words make Aiden still. He stares out at the ocean, the endless horizon dark and restless, much like his own mind. "I'm fine, Starlight," he says, though the words ring hollow even to himself. Because he was anything but fine.

He can feel her gaze on him, gentle and unwavering. "It doesn't seem like it," she says, her voice laced with a tenderness that weakens something inside him.

And then she says his name. Just one word, his name—"Aiden"—but it cuts through every wall he's been building, quiet and careful and undeniably her. It's enough to make him turn toward her, to meet those eyes that see far too much.

"You can talk to me, you know," Cleo says softly, her expression open and understanding, as though she's reaching out to him across an invisible distance. "Just like before." Before. Back in the Forbidden Mountains, when it was just the two of them against the wild and the cold and the weight of the world.

Aiden lets out a slow, unsteady breath, the tension in his shoulders sagging just enough for the truth to slip out. "Alright," he murmurs. "The truth is... I'm tired." The admission hangs between them, raw and fragile, before he finally continues. "I've been pushing myself too hard this past week, Cleo. Pushing myself to the brink. I haven't had a good night's sleep in what feels like forever. I haven't been eating properly. I don't even have the energy anymore. But I can't stop."

He pauses, running a hand through his hair, his gaze falling back to the waves below. "The council expects so much from me. The Silver Army needs me. And my mother..." His voice falters for a moment, quiet and worn. "My mother is in a much worse state than I am."

Aiden exhales, his tone low and strained as he presses on. "With the Estrelian Empire looming over us, she's doing everything she can. I try my best to help her, to take even a fraction of the weight off her shoulders. But it doesn't feel right to rest. To stop. Not when everyone is watching, expecting me to keep going, to be at my best, no matter how much it costs me."

His words fade into the night, swallowed by the crashing waves. For a moment, all Aiden can hear is the wind and the distant call of dragons. It feels like he's laid himself bare, vulnerable in a way he hasn't allowed himself to be in years.

Cleo's voice breaks the stillness, soft and soothing, like a whisper carried by the wind. "Even storms have their calm, Aiden. You'll find yours." Her words linger in the air, comforting in their simplicity. Then, slowly, with a quiet hesitance, she places her hand over his.

Aiden feels the warmth of her touch, and for a moment, he wants to speak—to tell her that he's already found it. It's you, he wants to say, looking at her. But he holds back, the words caught somewhere deep inside. Instead, he stays silent, letting the peace of the moment settle around them.

They sit side by side, watching the waves crash and the stars stretch across the sky. In her presence, Aiden feels a different kind of peace, one that eases the weight on his chest. A peace that only Cleo can give him.