The air up here smelled like pine needles, wet stone, and entirely too many dragons. I paused on the final ledge of the ascent, letting the cold mountain wind strip the last lingering heat of the desert from my scales. Below me, the clouds rolled in thick, gray banks, hiding the foothills of the Claws of the Clouds Mountains. Above me loomed Jade Mountain itself—a jagged, impossible spike of rock piercing the sky, looking less like a school and more like a challenge. I flared my wings, feeling the satisfying stretch of muscle across my broad shoulders. The pale gold membranes snapped in the cross-breeze, sounding like a flag raised over conquered territory. I didn’t feel like a conqueror, though. I felt like a dragon who had walked a very long way to stand in a place where he didn’t belong. I shifted my weight, my talons scraping against the granite. And there it was. The moment my claws made solid contact with the bedrock, a sensation rippled up my legs. It wasn’t a sound, exactly. It was a feeling—a deep, rhythmic thrumming vibrating through the stone. Thump-thump. A pause. Thump-thump. I froze, narrowing my eyes, the scarred tissue over my left eye pulling tight. I pressed my front talons harder against the rock, closing my eyes to focus. The vibration was faint, buried beneath thousands of tons of granite, but it was unmistakably there. It felt like a heartbeat, slow and heavy, echoing up from the roots of the mountain. What in the moons is that? I wondered, my tail barb twitching instinctively. I’d spent my entire life in the shifting sands of the Kingdom of Sand. Sand didn’t hold vibrations well; it swallowed them. But stone? Stone remembered everything. Stone carried secrets. "Hey! Watch your tail!" I opened my eyes and pulled my tail back just as a streak of crimson scales shot past my nose. A SkyWing dragonet, looking barely older than me, banked sharply and landed on the ledge a few tail-lengths away. He was panting, his orange eyes wide with excitement. "Sorry!" the SkyWing called out, though he didn’t sound particularly apologetic. "Just trying to beat the rush! Are you heading to the welcoming cave too?" I looked him up and down. He was wiry, built for speed, with a nervous energy that made my own stillness feel monumental. I didn’t answer immediately. Instead, I reached into the leather satchel slung across my chest and pulled out a small, tightly rolled scroll wrapped in copper wire. The SkyWing’s eyes lit up. "You are! Awesome. I'm Cliff, by the way. Well, not the Cliff, obviously, I'm named after him, it's a whole thing. What's your name? What winglet are youin? I'm in the Copper Winglet." "Cactus," I said. My voice was low, rasping slightly from the dry altitude air. "Jade Winglet." Cliff blinked, taking a half-step back as he really looked at me for the first time. I knew what he saw. A SandWing built like a siege engine, with scales the color of sun-bleached bone and a jagged, silver-white scar tearing across my left eye. I knew I didn't look like a student. I looked like a mercenary who had taken a wrong turn on the way to a border skirmish. "Oh," Cliff said, his voice dropping an octave. "Wow. Jade Winglet. That's... intense. Well, uh, see you inside, Cactus." He didn't wait for a reply, launching himself back into the air and angling toward the massive cave entrance carved into the side of the mountain. I watched him go, feeling the familiar, hollow ache settle into the space beneath my ribs. It was the same look I always got. The look that said: You are dangerous. You are not one of us. I tucked the copper scroll back into my satchel. They're not wrong, I thought, the memory of burning sand and the smell of copper blood flashing behind my eyes. I shoved the thought down, burying it deep where it couldn't reach me. I wasn't here to dwell on ghosts. I was here because a traveling merchant had handed me a scroll and told me it was a second chance. I took a deep breath, the cold air filling my lungs, and stepped off the ledge, gliding toward the entrance of Jade Mountain Academy. The grand entrance hall was a sensory overload of epic proportions. The cavern was massive, the ceiling lost in shadows, illuminated by globes of fire dangling from stalactites and the shifting, mesmerizing bioluminescence of several SeaWings clustered near a subterranean pool. The noise was deafening—a chaotic symphony of roars, trills, hisses, and nervous chatter bouncing off the stone walls. Dragons of every shape, color, and tribe were milling about. I saw a group of MudWings sleeping in a heap near a warm vent, a pair of NightWings whispering in the shadows, and a RainWing whose scales were shifting rapidly between anxious purple and excited yellow. It was a miracle they weren't all tearing each other apart. The war had only been over for a few years, and old hatreds died hard. But here they were, standing claw-to-claw, trying to pretend they didn't know exactly where to bite to sever an artery. I landed near the edge of the cavern, keeping my wings tucked tight against my sides, my tail barb raised just enough to signal don't test me. "Welcome! Welcome to Jade Mountain Academy!" The voice boomed over the din, warm and resonant. I turned to see a massive MudWing standing near the center of the cavern, surrounded by a swarm of anxious dragonets. He had thick, mahogany-brown scales and a kind, slightly overwhelmed expression on his face. He held a large scroll in one talon, trying to read it while simultaneously untangling a small IceWing from his leg. Clay. The MudWing of destiny. I felt a strange twinge of respect. He looked exactly like the legends described, only slightly more tired. "Alright, everyone, please find your winglet assignments!" Clay called out, his voice carrying easily over the crowd. "If you have a copper scroll, you're in the Copper Winglet! Silver scroll, Silver Winglet! And so on! Please proceed to your assigned caves, and we'll have a welcoming feast in the Prey Center shortly!" I didn't move toward the crowd. Instead, I scanned the cavern, my amber eyes picking out details with practiced efficiency. I needed to find the Jade Winglet cave. As I walked, I kept my talons pressed firmly against the stone floor. The vibration was stronger in here. Thump-thump. It wasn't an earthquake. It was too regular, too deliberate. It felt like something massive was breathing beneath the academy. I passed a group of SandWings who stopped talking as I walked by, their eyes tracking my scar. I ignored them, my gaze fixed straight ahead. "Excuse me." I stopped. Standing in my path was a NightWing. She was smaller than me, her scales a deep, midnight black dusted with silver stars under her wings. She had silver teardrop scales beside her eyes, catching the firelight. But it wasn't her appearance that made me pause. It was the way she was looking at me. Not with fear, or suspicion, but with a quiet, intense curiosity. It was as if she was listening to something I wasn't saying. "You're Cactus," she said softly. Her voice was like a cool breeze on a hot night. I narrowed my eyes. "Do I know you?" "No," she said, tilting her head slightly. "I'm Moonwatcher. But you can call me Moon. We're in the same winglet." I studied her for a moment. There was a stillness about her that I recognized—the stillness of a dragon who watched the world carefully because the world was dangerous. "Jade Winglet," I confirmed, my voice a low rumble. "Yes," Moon said. She glanced at the stone floor beneath my talons, a slight frown touching her snout. "Are you... feeling alright? You seem tense." She noticed, I thought, a flicker of surprise cutting through my guarded exterior. I didn't let it show on my face. "I'm fine," I said smoothly. "Just admiring the architecture." Moon's eyes flicked up to mine, and for a second, I felt a strange sensation—like a feather brushing against the inside of my skull. I blinked, and the feeling was gone. "The Jade cave is this way," she said, turning toward one of the many tunnels branching off the main hall. "I can show you, if you want." I considered her offer. I didn't need a guide, but I also didn't want to wander aimlessly through a mountain full of strangers. "Lead the way," I said. As I followed Moon into the dim tunnel, I pressed my talons against the stone one last time. Thump-thump. Whatever was down there, it was waiting. And I had a feeling I wasn't going to be able to ignore it for long.

The Copper Scroll