—Dong.
The sound exploded like thunder, shaking Zack from his dreams just as the faint light of dawn began to brush the sky. His heart pounded in his chest for a moment, startled and disoriented—until a familiar realization set in.
A cannon? No... fireworks.
A few seconds later, his foggy mind connected the dots: the sound had come from ceremonial fireworks, launched through the use of Oracles—an opening declaration that the celebration was officially underway.
Zack sat up slowly, the thin blanket sliding off his bare chest, the chill of early spring nipping at his skin.
He was in Hades House—the prestigious dormitory reserved only for male students of the Advanced Course at Roshar Dragon Riding Academy. After three grueling years of Basic Courses, he'd earned this right—along with a private room.
A luxury.
Gone were the days of cramped quarters and shared spaces. Now, he had four walls of solitude, his own bed, his own window... his own little space.
"Uuugh... It's freezing!"
Zack muttered with a shiver, pulling himself out of the warmth of the bed. The cold wooden floor bit into his bare feet. He resisted the very tempting urge to crawl back under the covers, especially after last night's dream.
That same dream.
Again.
He opened the curtains, his fingers trembling more from memory than from cold. Outside, the field below stretched wide, buzzing with activity.
From his third-floor vantage point, he saw students scurrying like ants, preparing for the coming event. Dragon Riders mounted their companions and soared into the pale sky, the shadows of their wings slicing through the rising mist. Sleek Stradias, the winged dragons of the academy, zipped across the field, their silver scales catching the light like blades. On the ground, hulking Sashias—the earth dragons—thundered through the dirt, their tails like whips of stone.
A breathtaking sight… yet all Zack could think about was the feel of her skin against his.
That dream again...
That intoxicating dream that felt too vivid to be fantasy.
Knock knock knock.
"Yo! Zack! Time to get your sorry ass up!"
Rayleigh's voice. Loud and obnoxious as always.
Zack cursed softly under his breath. "Give me a second!" he called back.
Panicking slightly, he rushed to the first-aid box and tore out a roll of bandages. He began wrapping his left forearm, concealing the ominous mark that ran like a black serpent from wrist to elbow—the Fang Mark. The unmistakable proof of a Breeder.
At the age of seven, he'd taken part in the Orphan Ceremony deep within Ald Forest. A dragon larva had been sealed into his body. But something had gone wrong.
Unlike others, Zack had no clear memory of the Mother Dragon. No visions. No blessing. Just... darkness. A fragment of the ceremony remained in his mind like a half-finished song, the rest swallowed by a haze.
His Fang Mark was far larger than anyone else's. Sinister, even. Jet-black like ink in water, it shimmered when touched by moonlight, pulsated when touched by her.
The dream girl.
Her voice, her body, the heat of her breath—it still lingered on his skin.
He shook it off and opened the door.
"You're late," Rayleigh grinned, his arms crossed. "Still fussing with that ugly thing?"
"Hmph. A normie like you wouldn't understand what this means."
Zack tightened the bandage with irritation. Rayleigh chuckled and stepped inside like he owned the place.
"You've been acting weird lately," he said, cocking his head. "Your face is red too. Fever?"
"No. Just... a strange dream."
"A dream?" Rayleigh grinned. "What kind of dream?"
Zack hesitated, a little embarrassed. "...A beautiful girl keeps sneaking into my bed every night. She's... well, she's practically naked... and then she does all these... things to me..."
Rayleigh nearly choked with laughter. "You serious?! Man, you're that thirsty?"
Zack flushed deeper. "You're not any better! We're in the same damn boat!"
Rayleigh flipped his hair dramatically and pulled a small mirror from his pocket. "Nuh-uh. I'm just waiting for the right girl. There's a difference."
Everyone at the academy knew Rayleigh was a narcissist. To be fair, his looks could rival that of a pop idol—shimmering blond hair, sharp blue eyes, a body sculpted like a statue. But his overconfidence was enough to turn even the prettiest girls away.
Zack groaned. "Anyway, what are you doing here this early?"
"Don't tell me you forgot?" Rayleigh leaned in, eyes glinting. "The competition starts today. And more importantly—don't forget the real reason we're here: flirting with girls!"
"That's not the point of the competition!" Zack shouted.
Rayleigh smirked like a villain. "You're still the only Advanced Course student without a Par, right?"
Zack winced. It was a sore spot.
He had a dragon larva inside him... but it had never awakened. While others formed lifelong bonds with their dragons, Zack's remained silent—sleeping. Dormant.
Not even worthy of being called Par.
"I could let you borrow Liquid," Rayleigh offered casually, referring to his sleek and prideful earth dragon. "I'm skipping this round anyway."
Zack hesitated. Borrowing Liquid was possible, sure... but humiliating. He didn't want pity.
"I could also ask Matt to lend me Mordred. He's on the Student Council, so he's not competing either."
Rayleigh shook his head. "Naive. You think Matt of all people will just lend you his dragon?"
"What's this about me?"
"GYAH!"
Rayleigh jumped, spinning around as a tall figure leaned casually on the doorframe.
"Morning, Matt," Zack greeted awkwardly.
Matthew Broderick—classmate, top honor student, the Dragonborn recognized by the Paladin, and treasurer of the Student Council. He was immaculate, refined, and always annoyingly judgmental.
"You two are loud," Matt said coolly, adjusting his glasses with a glint. "Why the hell is this room still a mess?"
He stepped inside like a man inspecting a crime scene.
"Didn't I tell you to keep your space clean, Zack?"
He didn't wait for a reply—Matt immediately began tidying up. Ever since they had moved from the cramped Mercury House into the Hades House, Matt had taken it upon himself to be Zack's unwilling housekeeper.
Watching him work, Rayleigh sighed. "Man, this is nostalgic…"
The three had once shared a tiny room together in the Basic Course dorms. Zack and Rayleigh used to sneak snacks past curfew while Matt cleaned everything compulsively.
Now nothing had changed—except the rooms.
Matt turned, satisfied with his cleaning. "I've always wondered… Why can you ride other people's dragons, Zack?"
"Huh?"
"Dragons only obey their own Breeders. There are no records of anyone successfully riding another person's Par. So how are you doing it?"
"Well… the teachers approved it, so…"
"That's not what I asked."
Matt's tone was razor-sharp, his eyes narrowing.
"If you really intend to compete, just borrow Liquid. I'll inform the president."
With that, he turned on his heel and left, robes swaying behind him like a cape.
Zack and Rayleigh exchanged glances.
"Man, who hasn't changed at all...?" Rayleigh muttered with a sigh.
Zack stepped closer to him. "So… you'll really lend me Liquid?"
Rayleigh nodded, a wicked gleam in his eye.
"Of course. But in return—you better use this chance to win that princess over."
Zack clenched his fists, his expression hardening.
"I plan to."