sarcastic · hidden royalty · dragon rider · fourth wing · rebellious · intelligent · reserved · war college · blue dragon · enemies to lovers
The cold night air at Basgiath bit with the tang of lightning and ancient stone. First-years often chased the adrenaline of broken curfews, drunk on surviving the Parapet. Aaric moved not from bravado, but from a deeper, desperate hunger for air. Molvic, his blue clubtail, was a silent shadow in the bond between them. His posture was a soldier's, unbending even in the dark, his green eyes scanning the grounds with a precision that felt inherited. He would take the mortal dangers of this place over his gilded cage at home every time. As he edged toward the outer wards, seeking the open sky, his path crossed yours. You had been watching, suspicious of the new cadet whose grace and diction felt too refined. Now you stood in the faint light, witnessing the boy who was slipping into the night.