Chapter 5: Bodhi

Cadets come and go, most don't last, and some don't deserve to. But there are a few you'll trust with your life. Keep your eyes open for allies. You'll need them sooner than you think.

Excerpt of recovered correspondence of Lieutenant Xaden Riorson to Thana Valaren.

~

Thana was jolted awake, her chest heaving, the torment of her nightmare still lingering. The blackness where her mind had unravelled felt too real. As her breath steadied, she felt an arm wrap around her waist—Bodhi's, heavy and warm in his sleep. She'd woken up with him in her bed for the third time in as many days, and she'd been meaning to call it off but...

Carefully, she slipped out from under Bodhi's arm, the chill of the early morning air biting against her skin. She couldn't fall back asleep. Not with her thoughts running wild. She threw on her fighting leathers and left the women's hall, making her way toward the gym. She needed to burn off the restless energy, to chase away the fear gnawing at her insides.

The training hall was empty at this hour, only the sound of her own quiet footfalls and the distant howl of wind through the cavern tunnels. Thana took comfort in the solitude as she wrapped her hands and stepped onto the mat. The tension coiled in her muscles begged for release, and she welcomed the pain that would come with it.

She started with footwork drills, moving swiftly across the mat, light on her toes, then transitioned into strikes—punches, kicks, elbows—each one thrown harder than the last. The weight of her nightmare clung to her, driving her faster, hitting harder. She needed to make it disappear. Needed to feel something other than that lingering fear.

By the time Garrick entered the gym, her body was slick with sweat, her breath coming in sharp gasps, and her hands ached from the repeated impact against the training dummy. She didn't stop when she saw him—just turned her aggression toward the new challenge he presented.

He stepped onto the mat with a raised brow. "You're here early."

She rolled her shoulders, keeping her expression carefully neutral. "Couldn't sleep."

Garrick studied her for a long moment before nodding and dropping into a defensive stance. "Alright then. Come at me."

Thana didn't hesitate. She lunged, launching into a flurry of attacks—strikes sharper than usual, footwork more aggressive, movements fueled by something darker than determination. Garrick deflected, and countered, but she barely gave him time to recover before striking again.

"Damn it, Thana—" he grunted, catching her wrist before she could land a punch to his ribs. "Slow down."

She twisted out of his grip and came back with a kick to his thigh. "I don't need to slow down. I need to train."

He blocked her next hit, this time catching her by the forearm and holding firm. "You need to talk."

She jerked free, her chest rising and falling with uneven breaths. "I'm fine."

Garrick didn't look convinced. "Someone who is fine doesn't fight like they're trying to kill someone. Or themselves."

Her stomach twisted. She turned away, grabbing a waterskin and taking a long drink. The sting in her muscles wasn't enough. Nothing would be enough to shake the nightmare from her mind.

"Thana." Garrick's voice was softer now, filled with a concern that made her feel like he could see too much. "What's going on?"

She clenched her jaw. "I said I'm fine so just drop it."

He exhaled through his nose, clearly debating whether to push further. Instead, he took a step back, nodding toward the mat. "Alright. But if you're going to hit something that hard, at least have a better target. Let's spar properly."

Relief flooded her at the shift, at the fact that he wasn't going to force her to talk. She nodded, falling into stance.

Garrick might not press her for answers, but she knew he wouldn't let this go. And she wasn't sure what scared her more—how much he already saw or how much she didn't want to admit.

~

Thana sat by the banks of the Ikabos River, the afternoon sun warming her skin as she watched Liam work. Shirt discarded, he carved into a fresh block of wood, his knife gliding through it with effortless precision. The scent of sun-baked earth and damp river water filled the air.

"Come on, at least look like you're having fun," Bodhi called from the water, floating lazily on his back. He turned his head toward the opposite bank, where a group of second-years sat talking, his gaze lingering a little too long.

"Stop staring," Liam muttered with a smirk, not looking up from his carving.

Bodhi tore his gaze away, grinning. "You're both shit company." He flicked water toward them before tilting his head. "Last chance. It's perfect in here."

Liam set his carving aside and stretched. "Fine." He stood and gave Thana a look. "You coming?"

She exhaled, shrugging her shoulders. "Why not?"

The river was cold at first, but the shock of it was refreshing. Bodhi whooped as Thana waded in, and Liam dove beneath the surface, reappearing further out, his hair slicked back as he took a deep breath. He didn't stop, cutting through the water with smooth, precises strokes.

Thana drifted deeper, the riverbed slipping away beneath her feet faster than she expected. Before she could panic, strong hands caught her waist, steadying her.

"Easy," Bodhi murmured near her ear. "Wouldn't want you drowning before Threshing."

She exhaled sharply, gripping his shoulders. "Wouldn't give you the satisfaction."

His fingers flexed slightly on her waist. "Please. If you drowned, I'd never hear the end of it from Liam. And... anyway."

She arched a brow. "And that's the only reason you'd care?"

Bodhi smirked. "Didn't say that."

For a while, they just floated, letting the river currents take them down steam. Bodhi's hold on her did not waver.

"You gonna let me go?" she asked

He grinned. "Haven't decided yet."

Eventually, Thana drifted back to the bank and pulled herself onto the rock. The sun's warmth was a welcome relief against the lingering chill of the river. She barely noticed the change in the air—until the sound of footsteps behind her broke the silence.

"Mind if I sit?" Xaden asked.

She didn't turn, just nodded. "Go ahead."

He settled beside her on the warm rock, his presence as steady as ever. For a while, they sat in silence, watching the others in the river. Liam and Bodhi were trying to drag each other under water.

Then Xaden spoke. "You thinking about the challenges?"

She let out a slow breath. "And Presentation. And Threshing." A pause. "I don't feel like I"m ready."

His dark eyes flicked to the ring she was turning between her fingers. "You are."

She swallowed hard, her throat felt tight.  Xaden didn't speak right away. Instead, he leaned forward, forearms resting on his knees. "You are ready, Thana." His voice was low, steady. "You've trained for this your whole life. He trained you for this." He nodded toward the ring, its engravement catching the light.

She clenched her fingers around it, grounding herself. "What if it's not enough?"

Xaden shifted, just slightly. His hand lifted like he might reach for her, but he didn't. The hesitation was brief, but she caught it.

"You'll be fine," he said, quieter now, almost like he was convincing himself. "I won't let anything happen to you."

The words sent something sharp through her chest, too complicated to untangle. She swallowed hard, pushing past it. As they sat there on the rock, Thana's curiosity got the best of her.

"How do dragons choose their riders?" she asked.

For a moment, his expression flickered, as if weighing which version of the truth to offer her. "It's complicated."

"Instinct?" she pressed. "Or do they see something in us that we don't?"

His jaw tensed. "Sometimes both."

Thana's mind drifted to the scarred dragon from Conscription Day. The way it had looked at her.

"And the Blue dragon?" she asked. They both knew that she wasn't talking about Sgaeyl.

Xaden's silence was telling. He exhaled sharply through his nose, eyes fixed on the water. "It doesn't choose the way the others do."

A chill ran down her spine. "What do you mean by that?"

His gaze cut to her, unreadable. "It's already decided."

The words sat heavy between them. Her stomach twisted. There was something he wasn't saying. "How do you even know that?"

Xaden stood, offering a hand. "Come on. We should get back."

She hesitated, searching his face, but whatever emotion had been there was locked away now. With a quiet sigh, she took his hand, letting him pull her to her feet.

As they walked back toward the castle, her mind churned.

She had spent years studying battle strategy, weaponry, and the histories of Navarre, yet the dragons remained an enigma. Their lore was steeped in myth, their laws unwritten yet absolute. They governed themselves with an authority that no mortal could challenge, and yet, they chose their riders—bound themselves to them in ways no human fully understood.

What made one rider worthy over another? Strength? Resilience? A dragon's own whims?

Thana had seen riders who were fearless and brutal, yet some of the deadliest wielders of power had been chosen by dragons for reasons that had nothing to do with violence. She had heard the whispered theories—that dragons sought out not just strength, but conviction, something unshakable at a rider's core. But if that were true, what did it say about her? About the choices dragons had made before?

The weight of it settled heavily on her as the castle loomed closer.