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The snow did not stop for three days.
By the time the skies cleared and sunlight finally cut through the blanket of gray that had cloaked Lowmoor, the entire academy was buried in white. Training fields had become frozen plains, the beast enclosures blanketed in silence except for the occasional grunt or huff from within. Most outdoor classes had been suspended. Combat drills moved indoors. For a while, it seemed like the world itself had slowed to catch its breath.
Zephyr used the stillness.
Each day, he trained with his dragon—though training wasn't the right word. It was more like learning how to breathe with another soul. His mornings were spent reinforcing the emotional connection, feeding and refining the dragon's diet, experimenting with herbal blends, and journaling everything. He kept track of what worked and what didn't. He noticed how the dragon responded to specific tones in his voice, to different temperatures of water, even to music.
By the fourth morning, the dragon recognized his steps. Its eyes would snap open when he entered the room. It would chirp twice in greeting, then curl around his hand with practiced familiarity. It had grown slightly—not in size, but in presence. Its scales shimmered more brightly in the sun. Its tail no longer dragged but twitched with eager balance. The wings now spread fully and occasionally flapped, though they couldn't lift it off the ground yet.
He still hadn't given it a name.
Every time he tried, nothing felt right.
How do you name something that feels older than the world?
The system hadn't said much since the battle simulation with Wren. Its interface remained present, floating like an unopened book in the edge of his thoughts. Occasionally it would notify him of bond progress, minor familiar synchronization boosts, or passive alerts about the dragon's development.
But today, something new appeared.
[Ding! Quest Available – Memory Echo Detected]
[Objective: Investigate the ruined sanctum beneath the Rookery]
[Warning: Location contains residual beast memory fragments – Class B hazard]
[Reward: Bloodline Resonance + Skill Unlock]
Zephyr stared at the notification as the dragon curled in his hood, softly napping against the back of his neck. The message made his stomach tighten—not from fear, but anticipation. The rookery. Again. That place where it all began. Where he'd first been handed the scroll. Where the system had begun to stir. And now it was calling him back.
He dressed in silence, layering cloth and leather. He packed a satchel with light rations, chalk sticks, a beast salve kit, and a few mana-thread wraps in case of emergency. The dragon stirred when he reached for the coat, peeking out with a sleepy blink.
"We're going somewhere," he said softly. "Not dangerous. Probably."
It blinked again, then curled tighter in the hood, tail poking out like a ribbon.
Zephyr made his way through the side corridors of the academy, careful not to draw attention. The snow had made the walls quiet, the usual echo of boots and shouted drills muffled by the ice-cushioned stone. The rookery stood as it always had—half collapsed, vines frozen across its roof, its glass dome shattered in places where age had torn through the magic seals.
He stepped inside.
The air immediately felt heavier.
It wasn't the cold. It was a thickness in the mana, as if every step stirred dust not just of earth but of memory. The dragon in his hood tensed. Its claws curled slightly into his coat.
Zephyr passed through the broken benches and shattered roost cages, down the cracked stone path toward the back wall. The system's glow brightened in his mind as he neared a partially buried stairwell hidden beneath a pile of rotted wood and frozen feathers.
He knelt and brushed the debris aside. A flicker of runes sparked faintly along the archway.
[Entry recognized.]
[Bloodline Signature Match – Access Granted.]
The stones pulsed once, then shifted with a grinding sound as old as the mountain. The path beneath opened, dark and jagged, descending into the depths beneath the rookery. Zephyr lit a small lantern crystal from his satchel and stepped forward, each footfall echoing like thunder in the enclosed space.
As he descended, the walls began to change.
Crude carvings gave way to intricate murals—etched in silver and gold leaf, worn by time but still visible. Dragons coiled around towers. Tamers stood atop cliffs, arms raised, surrounded by luminous beasts. Below them, in smaller images, war. Fire. Skyships falling from the clouds. Cities crumbling beneath wings that spanned mountains.
He stopped at one mural that showed a boy with outstretched arms, a dragon coiled protectively around him. Unlike the others, this one had no face. The surface where it should've been had been burned away.
[Memory Echo Detected.]
[Initiating Projection…]
The crystal in Zephyr's pocket flared.
The chamber filled with light, and the murals began to move.
They didn't just animate. They lived.
He saw the past through the eyes of another.
A boy—no older than ten—stood before a dying beast. The dragon's wings were torn, its chest heaving, fire leaking from open wounds. Around them, soldiers in strange armor lay scattered. The air reeked of smoke and blood. The boy cried out—not in words, but in raw emotion. His body glowed. His hands rose. The dragon stirred.
And then, in a moment that burned itself into Zephyr's mind, the boy and dragon fused—not physically, but in presence. Soul to soul. Their auras aligned, and the firestorm around them exploded outward, pushing death itself back.
The projection ended.
Zephyr staggered.
[Bloodline Echo Synced.]
[Unlocking Primary Skill – Dragonheart Resonance (Level 1)]
[Effect: Enhances synchronization with bonded draconic beast. Allows Host to channel emotional states as mana fields during battle. Strength increases with trust.]
The power flowed into him like molten breath. Not painful—but consuming. He dropped to one knee, bracing himself against the wall as the dragon in his hood pressed against his spine. Their bond pulsed stronger than ever before, like a chain being forged anew in fire.
He felt something click.
A part of him that had never belonged… finally had a place.
When he emerged from the rookery, the sun was breaking through the clouds for the first time in days. The snow on the rooftops sparkled like diamond dust. And in the distance, the academy bell tolled once—clear, loud, calling everyone to gather.
Trouble was coming.
But Zephyr no longer felt small beneath it.