The Flight Line
“Look, there he goes.” Stephany leaned in close, the warmth of her breath tickling my ear as she whispered with a grin. Her bright blue eyes sparkled with excitement that mirrored the glint of sunlight on fallen snow. The entire corps of cadets stood in a shivering formation just outside the entrance to the flight cave.
Stephany, always the rebel, had remained undaunted by the threat of being caught by our squad leader. Meanwhile, I felt my nerves jump at the mere possibility of breaking formation code. But something compelled me to join her in looking.
Vanguard Commander Julius Helios stood in front of us, his charm captivating every woman in Valoria. I was aware of my face reddening in his presence, more from the power of his energy than the chilly breeze around us.
Commander Helios, the fearless commander of the Dragoon Vanguardian army of the North, caught my attention. People knew him as a hero for his courageous defense against the Thalassian invaders.
He was the exiled prince, a tragic victim of the brutal Blood Moon Rebellion. His uncle was the notorious usurper, the mad king who had slaughtered his own family to claim the throne.
The rise of King Magnus still sends shivers down my spine. His reputation as a ruthless ruler spread like a raging inferno. Even the mighty Kairos, the Valorian white dragon, submitted to the tyrant known as Magnus the Mad, also known as the “bastard,” among those who dared utter it in secret.
My striking pink hair and tiny size made me seem like an anomaly among the cadets. I combed the crowd for recognizable faces and discovered a group of misfits from the war orphanage.
The “S” symbol branded on our arms identified us as descendants of rebels. Our pasts weighed on us, setting us apart from the other cadets with clean records and bright futures.
“Shut your trap, cadet!” Dustyn shouted, his voice as harsh as nails on a chalkboard. Our flying instructor stood at eye level with me, but his posture and tone showed superiority. He was a hotbed of ambition, his bootlicking an obvious attempt to curry favor with an unreachable promotion.
A trickle of sweat rolled down his temple, showing the strain he put on himself to be the best. He clenched his fists at his sides, as if trying to suppress his rising anger. Despite his little stature, he radiated a terrifying presence.
I expected this day with dread for months. It was the day we could choose our dragon companions. It was a mutual decision, both for us and for the dragons. Not all dragons partner with humans.
The opportunity to contract with a dragon and start their journey as Valorian Dragoon Knights thrilled most cadets.
Stephany and I, deemed high-risk because of our parents’ rebellion, found the idea terrifying. As orphans, society already despised us without the added fear of being targeted for our classification. Our only chance of survival was to prove ourselves worthy of becoming dragon riders.
The selection process was no simple task. Every cadet went through intense evaluations, both physical and mental, to determine their suitability for a rider. Failing students faced expulsion or hard labor.
As one of the few female survivors of the war orphanage, I understood that passing these tests did not guarantee our safety. The king’s breeding program hung over us like a menacing shadow, a destiny more dreadful than death itself.
As we entered the academy gates, a familiar chill ran down my spine, bringing back memories from our first weeks here. We witnessed weeding out cadets who didn’t make the cut. I still saw their desperate faces as second-tier Dragoon knights forced them to drink the lethal dose of nightshade poison.
I pictured some of them—boys and one unfortunate girl deemed unfit for breeding by medical staff. They came from good families, just like me, but King Magnus didn’t take chances with loyalist blood.
The biting wind whipped around us, a constant reminder of the harshness of winter.
I felt its icy fingers seeping through my thick leather coat and sending shivers down my spine. It felt ominously prophetic.
The tension increased with Commander Helios’ arrival. His towering 6’5 figure loomed over us, his muscular build and stern expression radiating authority. And above him, perched on a high ledge, sat his fearsome dragon. The dragon’s fiery breath was visible in the cold air. We all knew better than to make any sudden movements or risk becoming an impromptu snack for the beast.
Our training officer issued a formidable warning about engaging dragons.
Even though we were well-versed in their body language, tension rippled through us. If chosen today, we would pledge our lives to our dragons, sealing a bond that would define our futures. Those not chosen would recycle or go home—a choice I lacked.
Aiden’s lips curled into a sneer as he leaned in, his voice laced with venom. “You’re like cotton candy,” he spat. “Fluffy and splenda sweet, but worthless.”
Farrah joined in, her laughter high and piercing like shards of glass. “No self-respecting dragon would ever choose such a pathetic pink confection as you.”
With my head held high and my eyes focused straight ahead, I ignored the jeers and taunts of the upstart families, who had betrayed their former king and now reveled in their newfound power.
But in this new Valoria, my unique appearance made me a target for discrimination. People saw my pink hair and blue eyes as symbols of the past king, a man Magnus and his followers overthrew.
My bloodline was a mix of Valorian and Thalassain, a product of the late king’s progressive policies. But now, those same policies were gone, replaced by a cruel dictator who valued selective breeding and power above all else. Love was just a tool for him to maintain control, and we were nothing more than pawns in his game.
Whispers circulated about the king disposing of “imperfect” babies by throwing them off cliffs. Some say the powerful three witches known as the Blackwater Sisters aided his rebellion for these sacrifices.
To ensure that we would not reproduce, every citizen, including myself, had contraceptive implants injected into our arms. Removal required government permission, and any attempt to tamper with them resulted in harsh punishment—incarceration, forced breeding, or even death.
In this cruel world, war orphans such as myself are denied the happiness of raising a family.
A deafening roar suddenly shook the mountains, causing the ground to tremble beneath our feet. Although the surrounding cadets flinched and cowered, I stood my ground, recognizing the fierce cry of the alpha dragon, Kairos, above us. It was the signal we had all been waiting for—the dragons were assembling for selections.
My heart raced as I watched the dragons emerge from the depths of the cave and the air, their scales glittering like precious gems in the pale winter sunlight. Each step they took was deliberate and powerful, belying their massive size.
The air crackled with an electric energy, a mixture of fear and excitement pulsing through the crowd of cadets.
Commander Helios turned to face us, his piercing gaze sweeping across our ranks. “Today, you stand on the precipice of your destiny,” he announced, his voice carrying over.
Kairos, the largest and most powerful dragon among them, perched nearby with an air of authority. His scales glittered like white jewels in the sunlight, and his golden gaze scanned over us with a commanding presence that demanded respect.
But it was the smallest dragon, larger than a horse, that captured my attention. Despite her diminutive size, she exuded confidence and strength, her sharp black scales glinting in the light.
My fellow cadets, nearby, found amusement in mocking her small size in comparison to others. To me, she equaled any dragon.
The little black dragon weaved her way through the lined rows of cadets, her keen eyes scanning each of us with a calculated gaze. I heard whispered scoffs and dismissive comments from my fellow cadets, but my heart raced as she drew closer. As our gazes locked, the world seemed to fade away.
A thick silence enveloped us, the weight of her decision palpable in the air. The ground trembled beneath our feet as a soft, melodic rumble echoed through the flight line—a sound both ancient and wise.
A flicker of hope ignited within me as she inclined her head towards me, causing my breath to catch in my throat.
Before I could process what was happening, King Magnus himself stormed onto the flight line, his presence casting a dark shadow over us all. His entourage of aides scrambled to fix his attire in a chaotic frenzy, drawing snickers and whispers from the watching crowd.
“What is this?” he boomed, his sharp gaze sweeping over us all. “You dare defy my commands?”
The little black dragon’s attention moved from me to the king, making me realize that her decision would determine not only my destiny but also that of everyone present. Would she choose me despite the king’s wrath and punishment? Or would she leave me to face the horrors of Judgment Row alone?
