The cold morning air bit at my cheeks as I slipped through the silent corridors of High Ardent. The stones beneath my boots still held the night's chill, and my breath misted before me in pale clouds. I'd woken before even the kitchen servants, dressing quickly in the dark, careful not to disturb the still forms of my sleeping guards.
I looked over to Vaelira's bed beside mine, she was still asleep.
The castle slept, but I knew one person who would already be awake.
---
I found Grandfather where I knew I would - standing at the eastern balcony, his gnarled hands gripping the railing as he stared at the distant mountain peaks. His breathing was labored, each exhale a visible puff in the cold air.
"You're late," he grumbled without turning. He lifted his cane and struck my leg.
"Fuck-" I groaned holding my leg up, it was painful. This old fossil was strong, and that cane was FUCKING heavy.
"I'm early," I countered, coming to stand beside him. "The sun's not even up yet."
He snorted, the sound wet and phlegmy. "When I was your age, I'd already have trained for two hours by now." The morning light caught the deep lines of his face, making the shadows in his hollow cheeks look like canyons. "But then, when I was your age, my father wasn't a soft-hearted fool who lets his children sleep past dawn."
I ignored the jab, following his gaze to the distant mountains. The highest peak stood apart from the others, its jagged outline like a broken tooth against the lightening sky. Even from here, I could see the dark mouth of the cave where Caelax nested.
"We'll need to leave now if we want to return before anyone notices we're gone," I said.
Grandfather turned to me, his violet eyes - so like my own - gleaming with something fierce. "Who said anything about returning?"
---
The path to Caelax's cave was treacherous in daylight. In the predawn gloom, it was nearly suicidal. Loose stones skittered away beneath our boots, clattering down the steep slopes. Grandfather moved with surprising surety for a man who needed a cane to walk through his own chambers, his hands finding holds in the rock face with the ease of long practice.
Halfway up, he paused at a narrow ledge, his chest heaving. I watched as he discreetly wiped blood from his lips with the back of his hand.
"You could still turn back," I offered, though I knew what his answer would be.
He shot me a glare that had made lords tremble. "And miss seeing the look on your face when you piss yourself at the sight of a real dragon?" He coughed, then spat over the edge. "Not a chance."
The last hundred feet were the worst. The path vanished entirely, leaving us to scramble up sheer rock. By the time we reached the cave mouth, the sun had crested the horizon, painting the mountains in gold and crimson.
And then I saw the cave.
"We are here." Grandpa grumbled and walked towards the cave.
I followed behind him, entering the cave.
The first thing I noticed was the smell - not the sulfurous stench I'd expected, but something older, deeper. Like lightning-struck stone and ancient blood.
The cave exhaled.
That was my first thought as we reached the yawning black mouth in the mountainside - that the mountain itself was breathing. The air pulsed outward in great, rhythmic gusts, hot enough to make my eyes water, carrying with it the scent of char and something older, deeper. Like the moment before lightning strikes.
Grandfather didn't hesitate. He strode forward, his cane striking the stone with sharp cracks that echoed into the darkness.
Then Caelax answered.
The roar shook the mountain. Not the high, shrieking cry of younger dragons, but a sound so deep it vibrated in my bones - the thunder of a waking god. Stones clattered down the slopes around us as the very air trembled.
I stumbled back, my boots skidding on loose scree.
"Stop cowering," Grandfather snapped, though I saw his knuckles whiten on his cane.
The darkness moved.
At first it was just two golden slits appearing in the blackness - eyes the size of shields, their vertical pupils dilating as they fixed on us. Then the shadows coalesced into something impossible.
Caelax uncoiled from the cave like a storm given form. His scales weren't merely black - they drank the light, making the surrounding stone seem dull and washed-out by comparison. Each plate was larger than my torso, edged in ridges that could slice through steel. His wings, when they unfolded, blotted out the sunrise, their leathery expanse stretching so wide I couldn't see their ends.
But it was his head that froze the breath in my lungs - longer than I was tall, crowned with backward-curving horns that could impale a warhorse. When he opened his maw to scent the air, rows of dagger-length teeth gleamed wetly in the dawn light.
Grandfather laughed - a raw, joyous sound I'd never heard from him before. "Still ugly as sin, I see."
The dragon's answering rumble shook pebbles from the cave ceiling. He lowered his head until one massive eye was level with Grandfather's face, the pupil contracting to a thin black slit.
I didn't realize I'd drawn my dagger until Grandfather smacked it from my hand. "Idiot boy," he hissed. "You don't draw steel on a king."
Caelax's gaze shifted to me. In that instant, I understood why men went mad from dragon dreams. Those golden eyes held centuries of cunning, of wrath, of memories older than our dynasty.
Then, impossibly, the great beast bowed.
I realized I'd stopped breathing.
"Stop gawking and help me up," Grandfather snapped, though I saw the way his hands trembled as he reached for the worn saddle strapped to Caelax's back.
The climb onto the dragon's back was more difficult than I'd anticipated. Caelax stood still as a statue, but his scales were smooth as polished glass, offering little purchase. By the time I'd hauled myself up behind Grandfather, my arms burned with the effort.
I was small and quick, so climbing onto the back of the giant dragon was no problem.
"Hold on to me," Grandfather ordered. "And don't let go unless you want to become a red smear on the mountainside."
Then the world dropped away beneath us.
No amount of hearing about dragonflight could have prepared me for the reality. The first powerful downstroke of Caelax's wings drove the breath from my lungs. The second lifted us clear of the mountain. By the third, we were climbing so fast my vision darkened at the edges.
I clung to Grandfather like a child, my fingers digging into his ribs. He laughed, the sound almost lost in the rushing wind.
"Look down, boy!" he shouted.
Against every instinct screaming at me to keep my eyes shut, I looked.
High Ardent sprawled below us like a toy castle, its towers tiny as pins. The mountains we'd struggled to climb were now mere wrinkles in the earth. The world stretched out in every direction, farther than I'd ever seen - forests like patches of moss, rivers like silver threads, the distant sea a glittering band on the horizon.
I laughed, the sound torn away by the wind.
Grandfather twisted to look at me, his face alight with a joy I'd never seen in him before. In that moment, he wasn't the sick old man who spat blood into handkerchiefs. He was Kaeran the Dragonlord, the man who had ridden to war on the back of the fiercest dragon alive.
Then the coughing took him.
It started as a tremor in his shoulders, then became great, heaving spasms that shook his entire frame. Blood sprayed across Caelax's neck, black against the dark scales.
"Grandfather!"
He waved me off, gasping. "I'm... fine... just... hold on!"
Caelax seemed to sense his rider's distress. With a thunderous beat of his wings, he banked sharply, turning back toward the mountains. The descent was swift but controlled, the great dragon gliding on the morning thermals with effortless grace.
As we neared the cave, Grandfather slumped forward, his breathing ragged. I barely managed to keep him from sliding off as Caelax folded his wings and settled onto the stone.
For a long moment, we simply sat there, the only sound Grandfather's labored breathing and the distant cry of hawks circling below.
Then he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Remember this, Targan. No matter what comes... remember what it is to fly."
I would.
Even when the coughing started again.
Even when the blood came thicker.
Even when Caelax had to help me lift him down, the great dragon surprisingly gentle as he nudged Grandfather's limp form with his snout.
I would remember.
---
The sun was high in the sky by the time we made it back to the castle. Grandfather leaned heavily on me, his steps faltering, but he refused to rest until we'd reached his chambers.
Fuck, my body ached, my legs ached. Fuck this old man's heavy ass stick, he refused to leave it there, saying it was a gift from a Vornhall beauty related to my mother.
As I helped him into bed, his hand closed around my wrist with surprising strength.
"You know," he coughed, "I wanted that medicine to kill me, looks like I didn't take enough."
I looked at him, "You wanted to kill yourself?"
Grandpa coughed, "Of course! You think i wanna die a painful death, surrounded by my family?" He asked me, looking at me.
I nodded, "Yes."
"Fuck no!" He yelled, "I am not dying like some old fucking peasant! I wanted to die on dragonback. Die flying on my old friend before my body becomes useless and i shit in my bed and k die with pain."
"Tell no one," he wheezed, his eyes burning with feverish intensity. "This was ours. Just ours."
I nodded, swallowing against the sudden tightness in my throat.
He released me, sinking back into the pillows. "Now get out. And don't come back until you've learned to climb a mountain without weeping like a maid."
I left him there, the door closing softly behind me.
The corridors were busy now, servants and courtiers going about their morning routines. No one looked twice at me - just another prince about his business.
No one knew.
No one would ever know.
And that, I realized as I turned toward my own chambers, was exactly how Grandfather wanted it.
Kaeryn's chambers lied right between mine and Grandpa's.
It was still early, so I didn't expect either of them to be awake, especially considering it was their wedding night.
The corridor outside Kaeryn's chambers was mercifully empty when I finally returned to the castle. I'd just turned toward my own rooms when a door creaked open behind me.
Aelindra froze mid-step, one hand still on the door handle.
She looked... well, "ravaged" would be kind. Her silver-blonde hair hung in tangled knots, the elaborate braids from last night's feast now a ruin. The emerald gown was wrinkled beyond salvation, the laces at her bodice hastily retied in uneven loops. A vivid bruise peeked above the neckline, disappearing beneath the fabric.
We stared at each other for a long, awkward moment.
"You're up early," she said at last, her voice hoarse.
I pretended not to notice how she winced when she straightened. "So are you."
Aeri's lips twitched. "Not by choice." She glanced back at the closed door, where Kaeryn's muffled snores were just audible. "Your brother snores like a dying boar."
A servant rounded the corner with an armful of linens, took one look at us, and immediately backtracked.
Aeri sighed and rubbed her temples. "Gods, I need wine."
"At this hour?"
She fixed me with a look that made me feel twelve again. "Especially at this hour."
Silence stretched between us. Somewhere in the castle, a bell began tolling the morning watch.
"You have..." I gestured vaguely to my own neck.
Aeri's hand flew to the bruise. Her cheeks flushed nearly as red as the mark. "That's—I fell."
"Into what? A stampede?"
Her eyes narrowed. "Careful, little prince. Or I'll tell Vaelira you were staring at my neck."
I opened my mouth to protest, then thought better of it. "I'm going to break my fast."
Aeri sighed and smiled, she walked towards me and move her mouth up and kissed my forehead.
Aeri smoothed her ruined gown with as much dignity as she could muster. "I'm going to drown myself in the wine cellar."
We parted ways, the echo of her footsteps fading down the corridor.
Then I heard a tired voice, "Wait....! Brother....."
I stopped, walked back a few steps and looked into Kaeryn's room.
There he was, laying beneath sheets, naked.
"Don't go to breakfast without me.... Wait..." He said, sitting up on the bed.
"You are naked. Get dressed, I'll wait." I closed the door and walked to the railing, staring into the lake that Kaeryn's room faced.
The cold morning air helped clear my head as I leaned against the stone railing, watching the mist rise from the lake below. The water shimmered in the pale dawn light, its surface broken only by the occasional fish jumping for early insects. My body still hummed with the memory of flight, my muscles aching from clinging to Caelax's massive form.
The door creaked open behind me, followed by the heavy stumble of my brother's footsteps.
"Gods' blood," Kaeryn groaned, clutching his head as he joined me at the balcony. He'd thrown on a loose linen shirt and breeches, his silver hair sticking up in wild tufts. His violet eyes were bloodshot, the skin beneath them dark as bruises. "Why is the sun so fucking bright?"
"No brighter than usual." I muttered, standing up, letting go of the railing, "Let's go."
I walked down the corridor, heading to the dinning hall.
As we took one turn, and walked a little bit more, I saw that uncle's room's door was open.
I looked back at Kaeryn while walking, "Uncle is gonna make fun of you."
Kaeryn, puzzled, asked, "Why?"
"Because you are up so early. And it's not because of that." I said quietly, flatly.
Kaeryn groaned as we passed Uncle Jaera's open doorway, his face pale with the aftermath of wine and wedding revels. My uncle stood by his window, a goblet in hand, his sharp Valemyr features twisting into a smirk as he beheld his nephew's misery.
"Well, well," Jaera drawled, his voice thick with amusement. "The Crown Prince graces us with his presence before noon. Did your new bride find your company so lacking that she cast you from her bed at first light?"
Kaeryn shot him a venomous glare. "Spare me your japes, uncle. I've no patience for them this morn."
Jaera chuckled darkly, swirling the contents of his cup. "Such fire from a man who looks half a corpse. I pray your bride did not suffer your temper as well as your stamina." His gaze slid to me. "And you, little prince? What brings you creeping through the halls at such an hour?"
I met his eyes coolly. "Duty, uncle. Someone must ensure the future king does not choke on his own bile."
Jaera barked a laugh. "Ever the dutiful brother." He raised his cup in mock salute. "Go then, and break your fast."
Kaeryn muttered a curse under his breath as we continued down the corridor. "Gods grant me strength to endure that man."
I said nothing. Jaera's jests were as sharp as his blade, but there was truth in his eyes when he looked at Kaeryn—something bitter and unspoken.
---
The scent of roasted meats and fresh-baked bread filled the grand dining hall of Dragoncrest Palace as I entered. Morning light streamed through the high arched windows, glinting off the silver plates and goblets set upon the long oak table.
Mother stood near the head of the table, her golden hair shimmering in the sunlight as she directed servants with graceful gestures. She turned at my approach, her warm smile softening her regal features.
"Targan," she said, reaching out to smooth a wayward strand of my hair. "You're up early, my love. Did you sleep well?"
Before I could answer, Vaelira's sharp voice cut through the hall. "He was gone before dawn," she said, striding toward us with her usual predatory grace. Her violet eyes bored into mine. "Where did you disappear to, brother?"
I accepted a goblet of honeyed milk from a servant, avoiding her gaze. "Just needed air."
Vaelira's fingers dug into my arm. "You're lying."
Mother tutted, gently prying Vaelira's hand away. "Enough, dear. Let your brother eat in peace." She guided me toward the table, her touch warm and reassuring. "You must try these honeycakes - I had them made specially for you."
Kaeryn stumbled in then, his silver hair tousled, his fine silk tunic wrinkled. He groaned as he collapsed into his chair, rubbing his temples.
"Someone pour me wine," he muttered.
Mother arched a perfect golden brow. "After last night's celebrations? I think not." She signaled a servant. "Bring the Crown Prince some willowbark tea instead."
Kaeryn scowled but said nothing, knowing better than to argue with mother when she used that tone.
As servants placed platters of sausages, eggs, and warm bread before us, Vaelira looked at me, bringing her face close to mine, whispering, "What were you doing sl early?"
I focused on my plate, cutting a slice of ham with deliberate care. Let her try. Some secrets were worth keeping.
My big sister is persistent, but she stops at a certain point. But she will probably get it out of me at some point, she is 7 years older than me, she has her ways.
"Oh-" My mother turned around and placed her hand on my shoulder, "We are going to Veron Valley tomorrow, you and me."
"Oh." I said.
Vaelira, who was sitting beside me, turned towards my mother, gripped my other shoulder and asked, "What about me?" She looked at me, "You want me to come, little brother?"
"Yes." I just complied.
Mother chuckled, "Alright. Release the poor boy."
Vaelira smiled and softened her grip, "No, he likes it."
"Yes." Just comply.
Mother sighed and turned back.
I heard footsteps.
I turned towards the source of the footsteps.
I saw Aelindra.
I turned back to my food.
Aelindra took a seat beside me.
She brought her face close, "Good Morning."
I nodded, "Good Morning."
She brought her closed after and whispered, "Is it still visible? The marks?"
"No." I answered.
"Good. Don't mention this morning to anyone." She said, kissing my forehead, and got to the plate the servants has laid out for her.
She just seems overly-affectionate.
Vaelira narrowed her eyes and brought her face closer, whispering, "You are telling me everything later."
Good thing we are going to Veron Valley tomorrow.
I don't know why, but I just felt like I had lost quite a big part of the respect I had for brother.