Through Smoke and Ashes

Fifteen||Healer or Killer

The first thing I felt was warmth—the sharp rays of the sun spilling across my face, prying at my eyelids until I blinked awake. Dawn had long since passed; the light was too white, too high in the sky. Beside me, Naxan was coiled in a half-circle, his massive body curved protectively around mine. His scales shimmered faintly, shifting from obsidian to a muted silver-green in the morning light. His eyes, bright and watchful, were locked on the trees ahead, the muscles beneath his hide tight with focus. My stirring drew a twitch from his ears.

"Twoleg slept late," he murmured, his deep, gravelly voice resonating through the bond. His phrasing was still clipped, but his words were growing smoother each day—he was learning faster than I'd expected.

I pressed a hand to his side, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath beneath the hard texture of his scales. "I had a crazy dream last night," I said softly, recalling the phantom world of my sleep. Alec and I had sparred again—two shadows circling under a dim sky until the dream fractured with our waking. Before it faded, he had given me one of his rare smiles, a glimmer of approval that still warmed me now. I couldn't help the small smile that crept across my lips. Even when he was harsh, his pride in me always found a way through.

My gaze drifted toward my bag lying near the tree roots. The stone inside pulsed faintly at the edge of my awareness, like a heartbeat calling to me. I could feel its presence even before I touched it, a magnetic pull threading through my thoughts. My palm tingled with anticipation.

I reached for the bag, rummaging through the scattered contents until my fingers brushed the familiar smooth surface. The instant I held the stone, it began to glow, its amber light washing over my face and painting the air with warmth. Naxan turned sharply at the sudden radiance, his wings flexing slightly as an uneasy growl rumbled in his throat.

"Danger?" he asked, his tone uncertain but edged with concern.

I shook my head, reassuring him with a faint smile. "No, this isn't dangerous. This—" I turned the stone between my fingers, watching its inner glow dance. "This is how I found out I was a dragon rider."

For a moment, I simply breathed, feeling the hum of it against my skin. Then, slowly, I switched the stone to my marked hand. My pulse jumped. The moment my skin met its surface, the glow began to fade, not gradually, but purposefully, as though it were dimming itself in recognition. Then, without warning, the light vanished altogether.

The silence that followed was strange—heavy, electric.

Before I could react, the black lines etched into my arm began to stir. They moved like living ink, writhing and tightening around my skin. Panic surged in my chest as they snaked toward the stone, latching onto it with a force that made my entire arm shudder. I could feel my pulse hammering beneath them.

A sharp crack split the air. The stone shattered in my palm, and from its fractured core erupted a swirl of darkness—a wild, churning cloud that seemed to breathe and twist like something alive. Naxan reared back with a hiss, his claws gouging the earth as the dark mass surged toward me. Before I could even think to drop it, the shadows dove straight into my skin.

I screamed. The black lines on my arm convulsed, pulling tighter, sinking deeper. It felt as though the air was being sucked out of my lungs. The shadows poured into me until I couldn't tell where they ended and I began. Then, all at once, the pain ceased. The lines settled, weaving themselves neatly around the wings and sword of my rider's mark. The wings shimmered faintly—alive, shifting as though they'd made room for the new power that now resided there.

I stared at my arm, chest heaving, the last wisps of darkness fading beneath my skin. "Well," I whispered breathlessly, "that was dramatic."

Naxan's head tilted, nostrils flaring. "Feel that?" His words came low and careful, the sound reverberating in my bones.