Chapter 11: Gathering Fire for the Future
A sliver of dawn slipped over Lowmoor's east wall, staining frost-tipped rooftops peach and pale gold. Zephyr leaned on the parapet of the abandoned observation tower, Star perched on his shoulder inside a wool-lined cowl. The hatchling's scales gleamed faintly beneath the cloth, silver eyes following every bird in the winter sky.
Below, the academy stirred. Caretakers hauled feed carts; first-year tamers hurried to drills; two unfamiliar men—hard-jawed, cloaks too fine for staff—loitered near the eastern arch. Dragon Sense traced subtle mana threads clinging to their belts, the signature of Guild scouts. The watchers Seer Kalthis had promised.
Zephyr's gut tightened. They will stay until they find a flaw.
Star nudged his cheek, humming a quiet note. Zephyr stroked the little dragon's neck. "We have work to do, small scout. Forty days isn't long."
He descended the tower and crossed frost-slick flagstones to the supply yard, where a cart already stood hitched to an old mule. Grent barked orders while swinging sacks of grain onto the flat bed.
"Valorian!" the grizzled caretaker called. "You're late. We ride into Hollowford for winter minerals—feed stores say we're low." His scarred hands tossed a ledger. "You keep count, I keep the mule alive. Deal?"
Zephyr climbed aboard, cloak drawn tight. A trip outside the walls—chance to gather rarities for Star's growth.
The mule plodded along a rutted road dusted in white. Pines bowed under snow; distant peaks shimmered with fresh ice. Star rested warm against Zephyr's ribs, hidden. Two hours later Hollowford appeared: a huddle of timber inns and smoky taverns around a moss-grown bridge. Market stalls lined the square, flames from brazier pans chasing off the chill.
Grent unloaded standard feed from the cart and haggled noisily for salt blocks. Zephyr slipped away, following memory of a note Wren once muttered: "Old Binder's mineral booth sells decent sunstone grit."
Down a narrow alley he found a canvas awning. Inside, boxes overflowed with raw crystals—fiery orange sunstone shards, violet charrock, green mana-salt. An elderly vendor raised wiry brows. "Caretaker coin or Guild seal?"
"Just coin," Zephyr said. "How much for a palm of sunstone grit and… that packet of auric ash?"
The vendor weighed both, quoted a price steep for a stable boy. Zephyr counted coins Fenna had pressed into his hand that morning—almost enough. He hesitated.
Star squirmed in the sling, tail tapping a rhythm. Zephyr sensed intent: Try bargaining. He straightened and met the vendor's gaze. "Your ash is old stock—edges dulled, potency dropped. I'll pay half plus a favor—fresh moonleaf balm straight from Lowmoor's greenhouse. Good for cracked hands."
The man grunted. "Moonleaf's rare midwinter." He eyed Zephyr's worn gloves. "Deal. Bring balm next market run."
Zephyr paid, tucking grit and ash into a pouch sewn inside his cloak lining. He purchased a small vial of cloud-spring water from another stall in return for cleaning a chipped rune plate with Beast Feed cultivation—tiny demonstration that earned a nod.
By noon, cart loaded, they returned along the frozen track. Inside his sling, Star dozed, belly warm from secret packet of sunstone dust Zephyr let him lick once. The dragonling dreamed of fire; snatches of smoky images drifted across the bond—volcanic caverns, molten rivers. Zephyr smiled.
Back at Lowmoor, Zephyr carried sacks to Wing Two storehouse. Near the gate Callen Dros lounged, Bristle Fang panting at his feet. The trainee's eyes narrowed when he spotted the bulging pouch on Zephyr's belt.
"Busy day for a feeder," Callen drawled. "What exotic seeds you got there?"
"Mineral supplements," Zephyr said. "For molting lynxes. Ask Wren."
"I might." Callen stepped closer. His Bristle Fang sniffed the air, lip curling. Star's warmth flared, instinctive flame ready. Zephyr tightened the sling, willing calm through the bond. The dragonling's scales dimmed—Quiet Glow hiding heat.
Before Callen questioned further, a sharp whistle cut the courtyard. Captain Reilas Marron strode by, blue mantle snapping. Callen snapped to parade stance; Zephyr used the moment to slip away.
They're watching everything, he thought, pulse racing. We must be perfect actors.
Night settled. In the herb cellar, Fenna crushed the auric ash with a mortar while Zephyr mixed sunstone grit, cloud-spring water, and pulverized moonleaf to form a thick paste. Incubation Aura heated the blend gently until it glowed soft orange.
Star perched on a shelf, chirping. "Patience," Zephyr laughed. He shaped marble-sized pellets and cooled them. "Three a day. Ember pellets—your first real growth feed."
Star snapped one up, eyes going wide as internal heat flickered. Tiny tongues of flame puffed from nostrils. Fenna clapped delighted.
System: External mineral digestion complete.
Fire attribute +2.
Growth multiplier stacking (1.3×).
Zephyr's status ticked: Mana Capacity +1.
He leaned back against the wall, exhaustion tugging at eyelids. Fenna sat beside him, knees brushing his. Straw rustled under Star as the hatchling practiced Flicker Glide between crates.
"Guild scouts lurk everywhere," Zephyr said quietly. "We need better hiding spots."
Fenna nodded, producing a rough map. "Old water tunnels run beneath Wing Four to the rookery catacombs. Few people go there since the collapse." She traced a line. "Tomorrow we move Star there. I'll keep keys from greenhouse and blame broken valves if anyone asks."
Zephyr smiled at her foresight. "What would I do without you?"
Her cheeks pinked. "Star would sneeze flames on everyone without me, clearly."
He laughed, the sound echoing against brick.
Two hours before dawn they slipped through empty corridors. Star rode Zephyr's shoulder under the cloak, head peeking, eager for night air.
At Wing Four they pried open a rusted hatch. Stale air wafted up. Fenna went first, lantern swinging. Zephyr handed down the crate of straw and heat stones. He followed, sealing the hatch.
The tunnel walls dripped with slow seepage; crystals glinted in cracks. They walked bent under low arches until a collapsed chamber opened wider, lit by faint blue lichen.
At the far side a natural alcove rose, dry and sheltered. Zephyr set the crate there; Star scampered, sniffing new scents. Incubation Aura pulsed, raising temperature gently.
"This will be home," Fenna said, arranging blankets. "No inspectors will crawl this far."
Zephyr leaned against the stone, sudden weariness heavy. He closed his eyes for a breath—then another—until Star chirped urgently.
Faint footsteps echoed above. Dragon Sense pinged three signatures near the hatch: guards.
Zephyr motioned silence. He and Fenna pressed into shadow, cloaks wrapped tight. Star crouched between them, scales dimmed to dull grey.
Voices drifted through cracks: "No sign of that caretaker tonight." "Seer said keep patrols random. Dragons leave scent." Boots crunched then faded along another passage.
Zephyr exhaled, pulse slowing. Star nosed his hand in comfort; Fenna squeezed his shoulder.
"We were almost found," she whispered.
"Not yet," he said, determination hard as quartz. "We must stay unseen."
Days blurred into a rhythm: Caretaker duties at dawn, secret feeding at dusk, night training in the collapsed cavern. Star's Flicker Glide became a five-meter swoop, then ten. The System recorded every breakthrough:
Wing Power +2. Agility +4.
Tremor Sense—host synergy: Zephyr can now feel subtle quakes within twenty meters.
Zephyr used Tremor Sense to avoid patrols, memorizing guard routes. Fenna gathered more feed ingredients: ember thistle, ironseed, dried kestrel hearts to bolster muscle fiber. Star devoured everything, scales shining brighter each night.
Blood-line purity crept to 12 %. Zephyr's Dragon Sense expanded to twenty-five meters; small auras looked like floating candles in his mind.
But tension grew. Guild scouts questioned students. Callen shadowed corridors. Rumors hinted the Seer possessed a new scanning orb due to arrive within a week—an artefact able to read beast cores through walls.
"We need a plan," Zephyr said, pacing the cavern.
Fenna studied Star's widening wings. "We train him to hide deeper. Those tunnels lead to outer cliffs. If danger comes, we run."
Zephyr clenched fists. "Always running." Star cooed, wings patting his cheek. Zephyr's anger cooled. "For now, yes. Until we're strong enough."
Three nights later, Grent descended into the cellar at moonrise. Zephyr nearly drew a blade of broken shovel wood before recognizing the caretaker.
Grent scratched his scarred chin. "Kids, I ain't blind. I seen you sneakin', and that 'wyrm' gleams like a forge ember." He stepped closer, eyes gentler than his gruff tone. "I ain't snitchin'. Just tell me this: Does it bite?"
Star peeked from Zephyr's cloak, chirped inquisitively. Grent chuckled. "Cute as a piglet. I brought somethin'." He produced a vial of powdered seacoal. "Old smuggler trick—boosts inner fire without flaring mana." He handed it over. "Might help your friend grow silent flames."
Zephyr stared. "Why help?"
Grent shrugged. "Saw how you saved that Bristle Fang weeks back. Good hearts deserve a nudge." He ruffled Zephyr's hair like a brother and left.
Fenna beamed. "We're not alone after all."
Sixteen days after Star's hatching, snow melted into sleet, then cold rain. Guild wagons entered again, carrying a silver chest runed with detection seals. Seer Kalthis announced a mandatory full-campus resonance sweep at sunset of the third day.
Wren's voice trembled when she told Zephyr in Wing Two. "All beasts will be scanned. Even support pets."
Zephyr's stomach twisted. Star's dragon core would blaze under such scrutiny. He hurried to Fenna. They huddled in the rookery's loft, rain drumming the ceiling.
"We can't outrun a full sweep," Zephyr said. "We either mask his core or flee the academy."
Fenna's brow furrowed. "If we flee, watchers will follow. If we hide… we need something stronger than Quiet Glow."
Star climbed Zephyr's shoulder, tiny wings flapping anxiously. The System chimed:
Emergency Branch Quest
Choice A: Evacuate academy before sweep (24 h).
Choice B: Acquire Obscura Veil Stone to mask dragon core (48 h).
• Veil Stones once used by Gravewind smugglers. A fragment lies in Hollowfell Mine.
Reward: Blood-line purity +3 and stealth upgrade.
Failure: Guild detection.
Zephyr met Fenna's eyes. "We go to Hollowfell."
She nodded. "Together."
Rain hammered roof tiles, each drop a ticking second counting down to discovery.
Star flexed wings, silver eyes fierce despite size. Zephyr stroked his scaled head and felt a surge of shared resolve.
"Then let the hunt begin," he whispered.
Outside, thunder cracked—like a dragon's distant roar echoing their vow.