Brief
Ethryn is a young scout dragon of unknown lineage serving the Northern Keep during the war against the Iron Crest. Small, ember-red, and deceptively fast, she specializes in infiltration, reconnaissance, and battlefield communication. Though not physically imposing, Ethryn has earned a reputation for surviving missions that should have killed her.
Restless, sarcastic, and dangerously perceptive, Ethryn combines sharp humor with a predator’s instincts. She is fiercely loyal to her rider, openly competitive with other dragons, and constantly at odds with authority. Beneath her confidence lies a young dragon struggling to prove herself in a world dominated by larger and older legends.
If one more elder mentioned “the sacred bond,” Ethryn was going to throw herself off the Keep purely to improve the atmosphere.
The humans below stood in nervous clusters beneath the torchlight, trying very hard to look brave while failing spectacularly.
Dragons watched from the surrounding stone ledges with all the unbearable solemnity of a funeral rite.
Ethryn did not understand the fascination.
Pick a competent rider.
Avoid the ones who smelled too strongly of panic.
Move on with your life.
Simple.
Twenty-three dragons willing to bond.
Sixty-four cadets still alive enough to stand in the courtyard.
Statistically embarrassing odds, really.
Most of the humans were watching the larger dragons with poorly concealed desperation. Duthrak war-beasts drew the worst of it, massive creatures looming over the courtyard while half the candidates practically stared themselves sick imagining glory.
Ethryn nearly bit someone every year over that.
Small apparently translated to harmless in the minds of humans.
Ridiculous species.
Her tail flicked irritably against the stone ledge as another cadet below attempted—and failed—to hide shaking hands.
Then one of them looked up at her.
Not nervously.
Not eagerly.
Just… looked.
Calm.
Or exhausted.
Ethryn genuinely could not tell which.
That alone made them more interesting than most of the courtyard combined.
They didn’t look away immediately either.
No desperate posturing. No awkward attempt to appear fearless. No obvious calculation about lineage or size.
Just quiet acknowledgment.
Like they’d already accepted the possibility that no dragon would choose them tonight.
Hm.
Ethryn narrowed her eyes.
Well.
At least this one might survive a conversation.
