Ashes in the Storm

The wind howled through the shattered spires of the old watchtower as Kaelin pressed his back to the cold stone, his dragon, Myrrh, crouched low beside him, wings tight against her flanks.

“She’s close,” Kaelin whispered, sensing the shift in the bond. Myrrh’s golden eyes flicked toward the cliffside.

“I feel her too,” Myrrh replied through their bond, her voice like smoke in his mind. “The venari won’t let us pass easily.”

Kaelin gritted his teeth. The venari had taken this valley a month ago. Since then, villages had vanished, and riders who dared approach never returned. But Kaelin wasn’t here on orders. He was here for Aelin.

His sister.

She had been one of the youngest bonded this season, barely sixteen, her dragon still too small to fight. They’d been stationed at Hollowreach when the venari attacked. No one had survived—except Kaelin had heard the rumors. A pale-haired girl riding a silver drake, seen fleeing north.

Aelin was alive. He would stake his soul on it.

Lightning lit the clouds above them, casting long shadows over the broken forest below. Kaelin stood, one hand on Myrrh’s side, the other gripping his storm-forged blade.

They moved quickly, silently. The only sound was the quiet hum of the bond and the distant rumble of thunder. The ruined village came into view—charred rooftops, crumbled walls, a scorched ring of earth in the center. A summoning site.

Myrrh tensed. “There’s magic here. Blood magic.”

Kaelin stepped into the circle. He knelt, brushing aside ash and bone until he found it—Aelin’s pin. A silver feather. He closed his fist around it.

“She was here,” he whispered. “But why—”

A shriek shattered the silence. Not from the sky—from below. The ground trembled as a figure emerged from the ruins, cloaked in smoke, eyes burning red.

A venari.

Kaelin barely had time to raise his blade before it lunged. Myrrh snapped her wings open, roaring, flame spewing from her throat. The creature reeled, shrieking, but it didn’t fall.

Kaelin charged. The blade sank into the venari’s shoulder, but it kept coming. Myrrh struck it with her tail, sending it crashing into a wall. The moment’s pause gave Kaelin time to see—its face was wrong. Twisted, inhuman. But the eyes—

They were violet.

No. Not Aelin.

But bonded.

“Myrrh,” Kaelin said, breath caught in his throat, “they’re using riders. Corrupted ones.”

Myrrh growled. “They’ve broken their bond. That is no longer a dragonrider.”

The creature rose, smiling with cracked lips. “She’s waiting for you, brother.”

Then it vanished into mist.

Kaelin collapsed to his knees, the weight of those words dragging him down.

“She’s alive,” he breathed.

“Yes,” Myrrh said softly. “But we are running out of time.”


---

They found her the next night.

High in the ruins of an old monastery, beneath a bleeding moon, Aelin stood in a summoning circle, her silver dragon curled around her protectively. She looked older. Tired. Her eyes shimmered like moonstone.

Kaelin approached slowly. “Aelin…”

She looked up. “You shouldn’t have come.”

He took a step closer. “I had to.”

Her dragon bared its teeth, but Myrrh growled low in warning.

Aelin shook her head. “They’re using me, Kael. My blood. I can’t leave.”

“We’ll destroy the circle,” he said. “Free you.”

“It’s not that simple. They made a pact. Bound me with it. If I leave, the storm comes. One that kills everything.”

Kaelin reached for her. “We’ll find a way. Together.”

A tear slid down her cheek. “There’s only one way.”

Behind her, the silver dragon shifted, revealing a blade—stormforged steel, glowing faintly.

“You have to end this.”

“No,” Kaelin said. “I won’t kill you.”

“Then everyone dies,” she whispered.

Silence stretched between them. Then Myrrh stepped forward. “There is one way.”

Kaelin turned to her. “What?”

“A sacrifice. A soul for a soul. If Aelin remains, she can contain the storm. But someone else must bear her pain. Her memories. Her bond.”

Kaelin felt his heart crack.

He knew what Myrrh meant.

He would take her place.

Aelin cried. “No, I won’t let you—”

“You saved me once,” he said. “When Father turned his back. When I failed my first bond. You stood by me.”

He looked at Myrrh. “Do it.”

The storm broke overhead. Magic surged through the air. Light and pain and wind.

And then—silence.

When the world returned, Aelin was cradled in Myrrh’s wings, unconscious. Her dragon nuzzled her gently.

Kaelin stood alone in the circle. His eyes now shimmered like moonstone.

The burden was his now.


---

He never returned to the academy. Stories spread of a ghost rider who guarded the valley beyond the mountains, where no venari dared cross.

Some say he still walks the ruins at night, stormlight in his veins, protecting the last hope of peace.

A brother. A guardian.

A soul in the storm.