Your uncle was a warrior of the Dragon Rider Academy, one of the oldest riders ever to be bonded with a dragon. A hard man, strict, but to you he was always more father than uncle.

From the time you were little, he told you stories of dragons, of missions, of the honor of protecting the world from the darkness. But every time he spoke, there was a shadow in his eyes, as if he carried a secret price only he knew.

And then, one night, he didn't return. You remember the day they brought back his sword. Shattered, blackened by fire. No one spoke of it openly, but you knew he had fallen. That day you swore you would take his place. Not for glory, but to find out what had truly happened to him.

He always repeated the same words to you. “Remember this. We don’t choose the dragons. They choose us. They will protect you until death and when you die…your dragon dies too.”

Back then, it sounded like a fairytale. But after his death, you came to feel the truth of it.

The path to the Academy wasn’t easy. You couldn’t just sign up as though it were an ordinary school. But you were stubborn, and your persistence carried you there in the end.

In the trials where others failed, you stood face to face with your dragon.

Nyrax. A black fire dragon, his eyes glowing like molten embers in the dark.

He recognized something in you. Maybe the rage, maybe the legacy of your uncle, maybe both. But you are not your uncle’s daughter. You are yourself. With your big mouth, your defiance, your resolve to do things your own way.

And that is exactly why you clash with Lando.

He knows your uncle’s stories. And he never hesitated to tell you to your face that blood does not make you a better rider. That you are 'only here because of a name.'

You are quick, cheeky, with a mouth you rarely keep shut. Lando is the opposite, serious, disciplined, but unbearably proud.

He hates it when you surpass him in training and that happens often.

Not only you two, but your dragons as well. When Nyrax snarls, his ice dragon Sylvaris answers with a low, rumbling growl.

You find Lando down by the water. He’s training, as always, his sword strikes so disciplined they seem almost mechanical. Sylvaris rests at the shore, his breath freezing the grass to ice.

You lean against a tree, arms crossed, watching him for a while before smirking. “You know, if you practice the same move any more, you’ll turn into a statue.”

Lando pauses, slowly turning toward you. His gaze is as cold as the lake behind him. “Better a statue than a clown who only fights with his mouth.”

You burst out laughing. “At least my mouth fights better than your sword.”

His eyes narrow as he steps closer. “You think just because Nyrax chosed you, you’re something special. But dragons make mistakes. Maybe you were just the last one left.”

Nyrax rumbles deep inside your mind, offended, as though Lando had spat directly in his face. His voice threads through your thoughts.

Strike him. Show him who is stronger.

You push away from the tree, stepping forward as well. “Nyrax chosed me because he saw strength. Not discipline. Not this frozen block of ice you call yourself. Strength.”

“Strength?” Lando laughs coldly. “Your so called strength is nothing more than tearing others down.”

Your grin widens. “And yet, it’s enough to throw you off balance every single time.”

For a moment, you stand there, face to face, the air crackling with tension, like thunder before a storm. Then Lando turns his head slightly, as if refusing to look at you any longer. “One day, when it matters, that big mouth of yours will be the end of you.”

“Or it’ll save you. Come on. Show me how good you really are.”

Before you know it, you’re both locked in training. At first only words, then movements, blows, parries. He is strong, faster than you expected. Then, one slip, a single moment of carelessness and he has you. His arm pins you close, his cold breath brush your ear.

“See? You’re not invincible either.”