The maids woke me at the appointed hour. One of them drew back the curtains, and light flooded into the room. It slid along the marble columns, over the gilded patterns of the walls, and fell upon the bed.
I washed myself, lingering over my reflection in the mirror. My features were calm, as I had been taught, but my eyes betrayed the tension. The maids moved in silence: some selected jewelry, others laid out breakfast.
Bread and cheese, wine and sweets remained untouched. My throat tightened, and I merely brushed the rim of the goblet. They, as was proper, said nothing. On days like this, any word seemed superfluous.
When my hair was braided and a dress bearing the Caldisar crest was draped over my shoulders, I felt it not as clothing, but as a stigma. Today I would enter the sacred lake. Today it would be decided who I was — the heir of the House, or its disgrace.
"Have Mother and Father risen already?" I asked, simply to break the silence.
"Yes, my lady. Lord and Lady Caldisar are waiting for you," one of them replied.
I nodded, but my heart tightened further. Everyone was preparing for the festival. Everyone was waiting for my Awakening.
The door slid aside, and Arena entered. She always moved with assurance, like a shadow that knows the value of every step.
"Is your health in order?" she asked, narrowing her eyes. "You will need your strength today."
I nodded, though my heart was beating as if it were preparing to tear free from my chest.
She handed me a list of duties.
"After meeting with the lord and lady — straight to the courtyard. Then the procession to the lake. There will be almost no time."
"And this dress will do," I said, looking at my reflection.
"Too simple," Arena raised an eyebrow. "Today they expect more from you."
"Let them expect," I touched the crest on my chest. "I will remain in this."
She did not argue. Her silence meant more than words: she knew my stubbornness was stronger than tradition.
"There will be a banquet in the evening," she reminded me. "All the Houses will be there. The Tarvises as well."
I clenched my fingers so as not to show how the name stung. It was Darius Tarvis who would enter the lake immediately after me. The rivals of House Caldisar had waited decades for the moment when they might cast us down from the throne.
"They will be looking for weakness in you," Arena said. "And today they will not forgive even a glance in the wrong direction."
I met her eyes in the mirror.
"Then I will give them no cause."
We stepped into the corridor. Stone walls stretched on, hung with banners bearing the family crest. Light spilled across the marble, cold as water. Power always surrounds itself with beauty. But today all that beauty hung over me like a blade.
One rule had been driven into my heart since childhood: it is not gold that rules, nor walls. It is the dragon within. The strong dictate. The weak bow.
I walked toward the hall where my parents awaited, and I knew: this was not a meeting. This is judgment.
The hall met me with a silence heavier than any music.
Tall columns rose into the vault, the walls shimmered with torchlight reflected in the gold of the crests. At the center, behind a long table, they waited.
Guardia, my mother, sat straight, as though she herself were carved from precious stone. Her eyes were cold and calm; calculation was always readable in them.
Orin, my father, held his back as if he would not allow himself to bend even before death. There was always strength in his gaze, a strength that knew no doubt. He was accustomed to command, and the world was accustomed to obey.
I stopped a few steps away from them, lowering my head.
"Come closer," Orin said. His voice was low, and there was no doubt in it that I would obey.
I stepped forward, and the sound of my heels echoed across the stone.
"Today," Guardia said, "is the day we have waited eighteen years for."
"And not only we," Orin added. "The entire Council is watching you. Today your blood must prove that House Caldisar remains at the head."
I raised my eyes. Mother looked directly at me, unblinking.
"You know what these words mean, Ira?" she asked.
"Yes, Mother," I forced my voice to sound firm. "Today I must awaken the seed."
"Not just any seed," Orin struck his palm upon the table — "a Dragon that will outshine the rest. For three hundred years our House has held the throne. For three hundred years the Council has bowed its head. Today it is decided whether we will continue our greatness."
Guardia rose. Her dress slid across the floor like a shadow.
"We prepared you for this day. Training. Lessons. Discipline. You must be stronger than doubt."
"You are a Caldisar," my father said. "And if you fall, the name falls with you."
Their words pressed upon me like the stone walls of the hall. I felt not like a daughter, but like a weapon forged for power..
I bowed.
"I will not fail you."
Mother held her gaze on my face a moment longer than usual.
"Believe what you say. Today everyone will see: the Caldisar legacy does not end."
I nodded again, though my heart was beating as if it wished to prove otherwise.
The corridors stretched endlessly, filled with light and silence. Tall windows let in cold rays that fell upon the marble and made the gilded patterns on the walls shine brighter than usual.
I walked straight, my head held high. Every servant, every worker froze at the sight of me. Some bowed, others lowered their eyes. I felt their gazes digging into my back. Today I was not merely the mistress of the castle; I was the hope of the House.
And yet one thought hammered in my mind: what if I do not live up to it?
I forced my lips to remain even, my steps firm. Arrogance was the only weapon I could show now. Let them think I am calm. Let them believe in my strength.
I passed the hall of arches, the garden where fountains struck silver, the gallery where the walls were hung with Caldisar banners. Every detail of the castle cried out about power. Each one reminded me that I had no right to be weak.
A horse waited in the courtyard. I gathered my dress in my fist and, in one motion, mounted the saddle, unconcerned that the fabric pulled and gathered dust.
"My lady…" the groom began cautiously, "it is not fitting for a lady to mount so—"
I turned toward him. My gaze was colder than my voice.
"It is not for you to decide what is fitting for the Caldisar heir."
He bowed his head and stepped back, and I urged the horse toward the gates.
As I was nearly leaving the courtyard, I noticed a familiar figure. Arthur.
He stood straight, as always, his hands behind his back. His hair was silvered, but his gaze was sharp. This was the man who had trained me for nearly eighteen years. Every sword strike, every fall, every wound had been part of his lessons.
I drew the reins and stopped beside him.
"Teacher," I said, striving to keep my voice steady.
"My lady," he inclined his head slightly, but in his eyes I saw more than respect. There was expectation there. Stern, heavy, no less oppressive than my parents' words.
"Today you will be among the spectators," I added, more for myself than for him.
"Today," he replied quietly, "the entire world will be watching you."
I nodded, concealing how my heart slipped out of rhythm for a moment.
The horse moved forward, hooves sounding upon the stone.
The streets led me toward the main square, and with every step the city transformed into a festival.
Flags and banners fluttered above the rooftops, windows were strewn with flowers. The crowd filled every street, and cries of greeting rolled in like waves.
"Long live the dragons!"
"Glory to the heirs!"
I kept my head high. My gaze straight ahead, my face impassive. Let the people see greatness in me, even if my heart was beating as though it wished to burst free.
The square gleamed with gold and stone. Horses already stood there, and mounted upon them were the participants of the rite. Thirty riders.
Nine from House Lorven.
Nine from House Brann.
Nine from House Hale.
Two from the Tarvises.
And only one from Caldisar.
All eyes slid toward me. Some appraised, some smiled, some waited. I felt their expectation as sharply as the roar of the drums pounding in my chest.
And I saw him.
Darius Tarvis. The youngest of the rival House, and their hope. He sat in the saddle as though the very air held him up. His gaze found me, and in it was cold superiority.
The crowd thundered. People shouted names, threw flowers, clapped so loudly that the horses' hooves rang against the stone pavement. For them, it was a festival. For me — a trial.
A general stepped onto the platform, clad in armor. His voice carried across the square.
"Today is The Festival of the Dragon Today thirty youths will enter the sacred lake and awaken power!"
The crowd answered with a roar; the drums thundered louder.
"I will announce the order," the general unfurled a scroll. "One by one you will advance to the cave."
He began to read the names. Crests were raised, the cries of the crowd grew. Riders, one after another, moved forward and took their places.
"Ira Thior Caldisar!"
My name rang out across the square. The crowd exploded — applause, shouts, flowers falling beneath the horses' hooves.
I urged my horse forward. All eyes were on me alone. The only one of my House. One against twenty-nine.
I took my place in the middle of the column. And behind me, closer to the end, I felt his presence — Darius Tarvis. He had not yet moved, but the shadow of his strength seemed already to loom over me.
"To the column!" the general commanded.
We moved out. Hooves struck stone in time with the drums, and the city roared louder. People stretched out their hands, trying to touch us, as though to touch the future itself.
"Glory to the Houses! Glory to the dragons!"
We left the castle walls behind. The towers fell away, and the noise of the city gradually faded, yielding to the thrum of the drums and the measured beat of hooves. The road wound upward along the slope, paved with stone, and the horses climbed step by step, as though carrying us into the sky.
The mountain rose above all — harsh, veiled in mist and pines. There, in its heart, the cave awaited. There I would have to prove that Caldisar blood was still the strongest.
With every step of the horse my heart beat faster. Not from fear — from anticipation. I knew: today I would become what I had been raised for. Today — the day for which all the years of training and every harsh word of my parents had existed.
On the platform by the cave, attendants already waited — stern, collected, with bags of clothing for the rite. Their gazes slid along the column, but lingered longest on me. I had to show them all. Arena was among them, and that calmed my nerves somewhat.
The general rode forward. His voice rang firm, like steel.
"Listen and remember. Today you will enter the lake and awaken power. But with power comes order."
He listed the rules, and every word sounded like law.
"Flying over the city is forbidden until you have completed training."
"Transformations are permitted only on designated grounds or beyond the limits of Sial."
"Attacking one another and displaying aggression is forbidden."
"And most important: the killing of a dragon by a dragon, even in beast form, is treason against the entire kingdom of Sial Caeris Tianor. The punishment for the crime is death."
The wind tugged at the banners, and the silence between his words was as heavy as the rules themselves.
"Now dismount."
One by one the young men and women began to dismount. The reins were handed to the attendants, and each was given a bag of clothing. Simple cloth, but on this day it meant more than any crown.
I was the last of those beside me to dismount. Arena handed me a bag. She gave a warm smile, as if reminding me, Everything will be all right.
I clenched the bag in my hands and stepped closer to the cave. Everything inside me cried out: this is my day. Today I will become the strongest.
Silence hung over the plateau, broken only by the rustle of wind and the distant thunder of drums drifting up from the city below. We waited our turn at the entrance to the sacred cave, and the sky above the mountain grew ever brighter.
One by one they rose into the air — youths who only yesterday had been human, and now were dragons. Silvery, gleaming like moonbeams. Red — heavy, with fearsome wings. Green, pale blue — the pride of the great Houses. Each ascent was met with cries from the crowd, and that roar reached even here, as though the very air answered the birth of new power.
I looked upward, and my heart beat ever faster. The beauty of their flight was undeniable. But none of those hues belonged to my House.
Caldisar awakened only gold and dark-blue flame — the highest forms, without equal. Above them remained only legends: the true black and the white, whose seed had been considered lost for centuries.
I pressed the bag of clothing tighter to my chest. Expectation burned there — not fear.
And then the last before me soared into the sky. His scales shone yellow-orange, like dawn. A dragon of healing. A true miracle, the rarest of all. The crowd erupted in rapturous cries, and they sounded so close that I flinched. Nerves, no doubt: today every sensation was sharpened to its limit.
"Ira Thior Caldisar!" the general's voice rang out.
All eyes turned to me. Hundreds of gazes. Thousands of expectations.
Arena stepped closer, her hand gently touching my shoulder.
"You are a Caldisar," she said softly. "Everything will be all right."
I drew a deep breath. Clutched the bag with the cloak until my fingers whitened. And stepped into the cave.