The "Variable Training" week was finally over. Riven felt less like a human being and more like a collection of bruises held together by sheer willpower and caffeine.

  For six days, Captain Kaelen had thrown everything at them. They had fought in pitch blackness. They had fought with jammed comms. They had fought against bugs in close quarters where the smell of simulated acid burned their nostrils. Vex had even flown a sortie without her helmet after a kinetic round shattered the faceplate, squinting against the wind shear like a maniac.

  But they had survived. They had adapted. And now, they were resting.

  Riven lay on his bed, staring at the grey metal of the ceiling. His muscles hummed with a dull ache that even the high-tech mattress couldn’t soothe. Although the sim didn’t physically damage him, his brain had processed every impact, every near-death experience, and those phantom pains were bleeding over into reality. The room was dim, lit only by the soft orange glow of the heating coils from the nesting pad.

  You have been staring at the ceiling doing nothing for almost an hour, Astrix projected. Her voice drifted into his mind like smoke, lazy and warm. Are you waiting for it to perform a trick?

  “I’m decomposing,” Riven mumbled, not moving a muscle. “Leave me to rot in peace.”

  You are so dramatic.

  Astrix shifted on her pad. The sound of heavy scales scraping against stone filled the quiet room. She rested her massive head on the edge of the pad, looking down at him with those unblinking silver eyes.

  Your heart has finally slowed down, she noted, a hint of amusement coloring her tone. You were vibrating like a plucked string back in the mess hall.

  “I drank too much coffee,” Riven lied.

  You were sitting next to the Red One.

  Riven closed his eyes. “Her name is Vex. And she kept stealing my fries.”

  She is very… tactile, Astrix mused. It wasn’t a criticism, just a curious observation, like a scientist studying a new species of ape. She strikes your arm. She leans against your side. She invades your personal space like a hatchling that hasn’t learned its size yet.

  “It’s just how she is,” Riven said, feeling the heat rise in his cheeks even in the dark. “She’s… friendly. Aggressive, but friendly.”

  Astrix huffed, a puff of warm steam rolling across the floor.

  Is that what humans call it? She paused, tilting her head. Because your blood runs hot when she does it. The scent of you changes. It becomes… sweeter. More volatile.

  She looked at him directly, her silver eyes piercing the gloom.

  Do you intend to take her as a mate?

  Riven choked on his own spit. He sat up violently, coughing as his lungs spasmed.

  “What?” Riven wheezed, wiping his mouth. “Astrix! No! That’s… no!”

  Why is that a shock? Astrix blinked slowly. You are both young. You are strong. You clearly enjoy each other’s scent. In the wild, if two dragons circled each other this much, there would be a courtship flight by now. It would involve significantly more screaming and diving, but the intent is the same.

  “We don’t do ‘courtship flights’,” Riven hissed, running a hand through his messy hair. “And we are teammates. Professionals. We are just friends.”

  She was over last night. You both talked for two hours. Then she hit you with a pillow and you laughed for ten minutes, Astrix countered dryly. If another dragon hit me in the face, I would tear its throat out. But you humans… for you, violence is affection. It is very confusing.

  “It’s complicated,” Riven groaned, flopping back onto the pillow and covering his face with his hands. “Just… drop it. Please.”

  Very well, Astrix projected, though Riven could feel the smugness radiating off her like heat from a furnace. You are ‘just friends’ who stare at each other when the other isn’t looking. I will accept this lie if it helps you sleep.

  Riven stared at the ceiling, listening to the hum of the ship. The teasing was annoying, but it was also a sign. The wall between them—something that he had felt intensely for the first two weeks—had been slowly crumbling. Astrix was comfortable enough to poke fun at him now.

  He turned his head to look at her. She was watching him, her silver eyes glowing softly in the dark.

  “You know,” Riven said quietly. “You seem to know everything about my life. My childhood. My… confusing friendships. My fears.”

  I am in your head, Riven. It is hard to miss.

  “But I still don’t know anything about you,” Riven pushed, keeping his voice gentle. “You shut me out every time I ask. We’re partners, Astrix. We’re supposed to trust each other.”

  Astrix looked away. She stared at the far wall. The mental connection between them grew quiet, but it didn’t snap shut like it usually did. It felt… heavy. Hesitant. Like she was weighing the cost of speaking.

  The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  It is not a happy story, she projected finally.

  “All living life on my entire planet was eaten,” Riven said. “I don’t do happy stories.”

  Astrix let out a long, slow breath.

  My brother, she began. The words felt fragile in his mind, like glass waiting to break. His name was Aether. He was… magnificent, Riven. He was a Kinetic class, like myself, but he moved with the grace of a Radiant. He was the only sibling I had.

  She paused.

  He was bonded to a Lancer. A man named Halloway.

  Riven blinked, sitting up slightly at her openness. “You mentioned Halloway when we first got here. I didn't know the connection was that deep.”

  Yes. Back then, he was not a Quartermaster. He was a Lieutenant. A Hammer, like us. They were inseparable. Five years ago, they were deployed to a skirmish in the Outer Rim. It was supposed to be a routine patrol.

  Riven sat up fully, leaning against the wall, giving her his full attention.

  They were ambushed, Astrix continued. Not by Ravagers. By something else. Halloway never saw it clearly. During the chaos, the clamps on his saddle failed. He was thrown clear. He hit the ground hard and lost consciousness.

  The room felt colder. Riven could feel the phantom echo of her sadness reflected in his head. Like a deep, aching hollow in her chest where a heart should be.

  When he woke up in the med-bay, his command told him that Aether was dead. They said his body was lost in a ravine that collapsed during the fight. They said there was nothing to recover.

  “And you don’t believe them,” Riven whispered.

  Astrix turned back to him. Her eyes burned with a cold, intense light.

  A dragon and a rider share a soul, Riven. That is what a bond is. When a dragon dies, the rider feels it. It is a psychic backlash that breaks the mind. It is a scream that echoes forever. It leaves the survivor hollowed out.

  She lowered her head until she was eye-level with him.

  Halloway felt nothing. He just felt silence. Like a radio being turned off. Not destroyed. Just… disconnected.

  “So he thinks Aether is alive,” Riven realized. “That’s why he’s still here. That’s why he works logistics instead of retiring.”

  He stayed to find the truth, Astrix confirmed. And when I came of age, I knew I had to find him. I could not sit on a planet, being paraded around like a prize. Or join the church or the military to waste my life away while my brother was missing. But the Inquisition does not just take any dragon. Especially one who is a runt of the litter, smaller than most. I had to prove myself. I had to be perfect.

  She looked down at her claws, scraping them gently against the stone.

  Halloway helped me. He pulled strings. He got me into basic training for the Inquisition and then contacted old friends and called in favors to get me into the selection ceremony for the new graduates. He knew I needed a rider who was a step above the rest.

  She looked at Riven, and for the first time, Riven felt a wave of guilt coming from her. It was sharp and bitter.

  I chose you for two reasons. The first was because you were an outsider, Riven. Because you were Dust Born. I needed someone the High Houses ignored. Someone desperate enough to prove himself that he wouldn’t ask too many questions about why his dragon was so obsessed with the Fringe.

  She hesitated, her silver eyes boring into him.

  And the second is because you are invisible.

  Riven frowned. “Invisible?”

  To the Resonance, Astrix explained. When I looked at the graduates in the Great Hall, I scanned them with my mind. Every human shines in the Resonance—some bright, some dim. But you? You were a void. A blank spot. I couldn't sense you with my psychic reach; I could only see you with my eyes.

  She shifted, bringing her face closer.

  The other dragons feel the same. It is why they do not talk to you as much. Why Raze sometimes looks past you. They literally cannot establish a connection with you unless they force it through a direct bond. It is why the Queen’s psychic powers barely affected you in the sim. You are invisible both in status and in connection with the Resonance.

  Riven stared at her. The revelation hit him like a physical blow. It explained everything.

  It explained why he had felt so isolated his whole life. But more importantly, it explained Paranthax.

  That, Astrix projected softly, is likely why you survived the Vinidean. It hunted by sensing life through the Resonance. To that monster, you were just a rock. You were a ghost.

  Riven didn’t speak. He processed the information. The secrecy. The connection to Halloway. The reason she had been so distant. She hadn’t picked him because he was special in the way the Academy defined it. She picked him because he was a glitch in the universe.

  I am sorry, Astrix projected, her mental voice small. I did not intend to drag you into a conspiracy. I know you wanted glory and to prove yourself. You wanted to be a hero. And I have made you an accomplice in a ghost hunt.

  Riven looked at the massive, terrifying creature curled up in his room. He saw the way she curled her tail around herself, a gesture of vulnerability he had never seen from her before. She wasn’t an apex predator right now. She was a sister looking for her family.

  He slid off the bed. The floor was cold under his bare feet. He walked over to the nesting pad and placed his hand on her snout. Her scales were warm, vibrating with her heartbeat.

  “Astrix,” Riven said softly. “Look at me.”

  She opened her eyes, meeting his gaze.

  “You didn’t drag me into anything,” Riven said. “I told you. I joined the Inquisition to fight monsters. If someone—or something—took your brother? If someone lied to Halloway? Then that’s a monster I want to fight.”

  But it is dangerous, Astrix warned. We do not know what is out there. If we start digging…

  “I’m a Dust Born,” Riven grinned, tapping the side of her nose. “I’ve been digging my whole life. And besides…”

  He leaned his forehead against her scales.

  “You picked me. Maybe you thought I was just a tool, but you saved me. You saved me from a life of sorting cargo on a logistics hauler. You gave me a Lance. You gave me a squad. You gave me a purpose.”

  He felt a rumble in her chest. A purr.

  “We’re partners, Astrix,” Riven said firmly. “All the way. If Aether is out there, we’ll find him. And if someone hurt him? We’ll burn them down.”

  Astrix closed her eyes. Riven felt a wave of gratitude wash over him, warm and golden. It wasn’t the chemical spike of adrenaline or the fuzzy warmth of alcohol. It was the solid, heavy weight of absolute trust.

  You are a good human, Riven Holt, she projected. Even if your mating rituals are exhausting.

  Riven laughed, stepping back. “Don’t push it.”

  We should go to sleep, Astrix commanded, tucking her head back under her wing. We drop onto the planet for real tomorrow. And I do not want my lancer falling asleep in the middle of a dive.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Riven saluted lazily.

  He didn’t go into the bed this time. They were jumping in the middle of the night again, and Phillean had ordered everyone to sleep in the pods to mitigate the stress of the FTL transition.

  Riven activated his DAIR suit and walked to the pod in the corner. He stepped inside, letting the glass seal him away. As the cryo-fluid began to fill the chamber, the knot of anxiety that had been in his stomach all week was gone.

  He wasn’t just fighting for the Concordance anymore. He wasn’t just fighting for a paycheck or to stick it to the Academy.

  He had a mission. He had a partner. And by the Resonance—or despite it—he would not fail her like he failed his brother.