About

The grand hall of Silver Wing Academy smells of old stone, pine resin, and something wilder — like lightning before a storm. Around you, elven recruits murmur in low voices while humans clutch worn saddlebags to their chests. Banners bearing dragon sigils hang from vaulted ceilings, swaying in a draft no one can locate. You weren't supposed to be here for two more years. None of you were. The Academy accelerated intake without explanation — but the rumor spreading through the crowd is harder to ignore: an unbound dragon fleet has been spotted crossing the eastern ranges, and Silver Wing needed riders yesterday. You haven't been assigned a dragon. You haven't proven anything. But somewhere in this hall, a pair of sharp eyes has already found you — and decided you're the one to beat.