Chapter 2 THREE DAYS

~LYRA~

I squeezed Selene’s hand back. “Hey, enough about me. Tomorrow’s your day. What do you want for your birthday? Besides the obvious, Mother turning our house into a dragon shrine.”

Selene’s eyes lit up. “Actually… I was thinking maybe we could sneak down to the lower market after dinner? Get those honey cakes you like. Just us"

I grinned, genuine this time, tucking a stubborn purple strand behind my ear. “Deal. But only if you promise not to tell Mother I let you have extra sugar. She’ll blame me when you’re bouncing off the walls before the Ceremony.”

We sat in comfortable silence for a moment, listening to the wind rattle the eaves. Downstairs, Mother’s voice rose again, calling for more thread. Selene sighed and stood, smoothing her blouse, her golden hair catching the light like it belonged in a storybook.

“I should go back down. She’ll come looking soon.”

“Yeah,” I said, forcing lightness into my voice. “Tell her I’ll be there in a minute. I just need to… organize these old books.”

Selene paused at the door, looking back at me with those clear blue eyes that saw too much. “Lyra? Whatever happens at the Choosing… you’re still my big sister. The best one. Dragon or no dragon. Even with your weird purple hair.”

She said the last part with a teasing smile, the kind that made it impossible to stay mad. I rolled my eyes and tossed a crumpled scrap of paper at her. “Get out of here before I change my mind about the honey cakes.”

After she left, the attic felt smaller. I waited until her footsteps faded down the stairs, then pulled the loose floorboard near the window. Beneath it sat my secret stash: a folded spare uniform I’d bartered for in the market, it was too big, but I could pin it, a rough map of the Academy grounds with guard shift times scribbled in the margins, and a small vial of shadow-weave tincture I’d traded my winter cloak for. It would dull my scent and blur my outline just enough to slip past the outer sentries if I timed it right.

Three days.

I’d sneak in during the pre-dawn chaos when candidates arrived. Blend with the crowd. Stand at the very edge of the field where the lesser-known dragons sometimes lingered. No one would notice one extra girl, especially not one with dark purple hair tucked under a hood. And if a dragon looked my way, when a dragon looked my way I’d be ready.

Mother would be furious if she found out. She’d pace the kitchen, voice tight with disappointment, talking about how I was embarrassing the family, how Selene needed my support, not my recklessness. “You’re eighteen now, Lyra. Act like it.”

But I’d seen the way her eyes lit up when she talked about rider glory, even while she glanced sideways at my unnatural hair like it was a flaw she couldn’t quite forgive. Deep down, part of her still dreamed. Maybe she’d understand. Or maybe she’d never forgive me.

Either way, I couldn’t keep living in this attic, waiting for a life that would never knock on our door.

I tucked the floorboard back into place and stood, brushing dust from my knees. The wind outside picked up, whistling through the cracks like it was whispering secrets. Somewhere far off, a dragon’s roar echoed, low and rumbling, full of untamed power.

My heart stuttered.

I whispered to the empty room, voice barely louder than the wind, “This time, I’m not waiting to be chosen. I’m going to make them see me.”

Downstairs, laughter floated up, Selene’s bright and Mother’s warm, indulgent response. The sound wrapped around me like a blanket I was slowly outgrowing, while my dark purple hair hung heavy against my back, a constant reminder that I had never quite fit the picture they wanted.

I took a deep breath, squared my shoulders, and headed for the stairs. Tomorrow was Selene’s day. I’d smile, help with the cake, tease her about boys and dragons, and pretend my own dreams weren’t clawing at my ribs.

But in three days, when the skies filled with wings and lightning, I’d be there.

Whether Mother liked it or not.

~

The kitchen smelled like vanilla, melted butter, and the faint floral scent of the candles Mother had saved for special occasions. I stood at the counter, sleeves rolled up, stirring the thick batter for Selene’s birthday cake while trying not to let my thoughts drift to the Choosing Ceremony looming only two days away now.

My dark purple hair kept falling into my face, stubborn strands that refused to stay tucked behind my ears no matter how many times I pushed them back. In the warm lamplight, the color looked almost violent against the pale yellow walls.

“Lyra, dear, not so vigorously,” Mother said without looking up from where she was carefully arranging sugar flowers on a separate tray.

Her own golden braid swung neatly as she worked, not a single strand out of place. “You’ll make it tough. Selene likes it light and fluffy.”

I slowed my stirring, biting back the automatic retort that rose in my throat. Of course Selene liked it light and fluffy. Everything about Selene was light and fluffy, her laugh, her hopes, the way Mother’s eyes softened whenever she looked at her.

From the corner of the room, Selene sat on a stool, legs swinging, watching us with that gentle smile that made it impossible to stay annoyed with either of them for long. Her yellow hair spilled over one shoulder in soft waves, freshly washed and shining. She wore the new dress Mother had finished hemming yesterday, the pale blue fabric making her look like a summer sky brought indoors.

“It’s okay, Lyra,” Selene said softly. “I don’t mind if it’s a little dense. It’ll still taste like cake.”

Mother clicked her tongue. “Nonsense. It has to be perfect. Seventeen only comes once, and with the Choosing so close…” She trailed off, but the pride in her voice was unmistakable. She glanced at Selene with the kind of warm, expectant look she rarely gave me anymore.

“You’ll want to feel your best when the dragons see you.”

I kept stirring, focusing on the swirl of the wooden spoon so I wouldn’t have to see the way Mother’s face lit up when she talked about Selene and the Ceremony.

Previous Chapter
Next Chapter