Chapter 19 Aug 19, 2025 It started with the wind the next day-cooperative, for once. The kind that didn't fight every turn, didn't bite through leather and skin, didn't shove them off course just for the fun of it. Mira leaned into Liorith's glide, letting the silver wings slice the air in smooth arcs as if the sky had finally decided to welcome her instead of test her. Across from her, Bastian and Vharok cut through the clouds with the same fluid ease. There was no tension between them, no jarring pauses or misread signals. Their dragons soared like a single body with two hearts, wings beating in time, fire pulsing through the sky like breath. It wasn't just flight-it was dance, power, and trust. Below, the instructors clustered near the edge of the cliffs, their heads tilted skyward, mouths moving quickly. Mira didn't need to hear the words to know they were impressed. She felt it in the way their eyes tracked her every move. For once, it wasn't because they doubted her-it was because they couldn't look away. The cadets were watching too. Not whispering. Not sneering. Watching. When the dragons landed on the high ridge, Liorith touched down first, her claws barely skimming the rock. Vharok followed close behind, his descent measured-like he was trying not to show he respected her lead, but couldn't quite help it. Mira swung down from the saddle, her braid snapping in the wind. She turned just in time to see Bastian already walking toward her. He stopped beside her, shoulder brushing hers, but didn't say anything. "They're still staring," she muttered, eyes fixed ahead. Bastian didn't mind. "Let them. They've got nothing better to do." Mira's mouth twitched. "Probably hoping we screw it up. Big fall, lots of drama." He shrugged. "Then we don't give them the show." It wasn't flashy. It wasn't flirty. It was just him-quiet, steady, choosing her side like it was obvious. And for once, Mira didn't shift away. She didn't tug her jacket tighter or shift her stance to cover her body. Today, she wore what the rest of them did-tight gear meant for speed and strength-and she didn't shrink inside it. Let them look. She had nothing to hide. Bastian noticed. She could feel it. He simply looked-like she was worthy of being seen, not just tolerated. And when she laughed at something Liorith muttered in her mind, his lips curved too. Their next spar was different. Not because they were trying to impress anyone, but because they didn't have to anymore. Mira stepped into the ring without hesitation. Bastian followed without question. Their blades met in the center, clanging once-then again-before slipping into a rhythm so sharp, so clean, it silenced the yard. Mira ducked. Bastian pivoted. She struck high. He blocked low. No falters. No wasted movement. Their bodies knew what to do before their minds caught up. Even the instructors didn't interrupt, too caught in the precision of it. When she locked his blade and flipped them both with a twist of her hips, he let it happen-hit the ground and laughed. The sound startled her more than the move. She reached out, offering a hand. "You're getting slow," she said, breathless. "You're getting cocky." He smirked, taking her hand. "I like it." She pulled him up, and he didn't let go right away. Their hands stayed clasped a beat longer than needed. Long enough for the tension to shift again-not into danger, but into something warmer. Something with promise. They stood close. "Think they'll give us extra points for style?" she asked. "Probably just more bruises." Mira grinned, still high on adrenaline, still flushed from the fight. But Bastian didn't look like he wanted to fight anymore. He stepped in, just enough for her to feel the heat of him. "When this is over," he said, voice low, eyes locked on hers, "when the final Skybrand exam is done-" She didn't move. "I'm yours." Time slowed. Mira could feel her pulse in her ears, in her fingertips, in the way her hand curled instinctively around the front of his shirt. Her voice came quieter, more certain than she expected. "We'd better survive then."