Morning came with consequences.
Kael woke to the sound of boots.
Not the gentle footsteps of healers or professors—but the heavy, disciplined march of authority. His eyes snapped open as sunlight streamed through the tall windows of the guest quarters he'd been moved into overnight.
The Proto-Form—curled protectively against his side—shifted immediately.
Its surface darkened.
Heat rose.
Kael placed a calming hand on it. "Easy. We're not dying before breakfast."
The System stirred.
[Threat assessment ongoing.]
[External authority presence detected.]
[Intent: containment, not execution.]
"…Comforting," Kael muttered.
The door opened without knocking.
Five figures entered.
Three Academy enforcers in reinforced armor. One robed official bearing the sigil of the Council. And behind them—
Professor Halden.
Kael exhaled slowly. "Good morning?"
No one smiled.
"Kael Ashborne," the Council official said. "You are to present yourself for formal evaluation."
Kael sat up slowly. "Let me guess. About last night."
"About everything," the official replied.
The Proto-Form lifted its head slightly, its shape more defined than ever—compact, heavy, unmistakably draconic now, though still incomplete.
The enforcers stiffened.
The System chimed.
[Proto-Form intimidation field detected.]
[Effect: low-rank hostility suppressed.]
Kael blinked. "…You can do that?"
The Proto-Form rumbled.
Halden cleared his throat. "We'll walk."
The Hall of Judgment was older than the Academy itself.
Its walls were carved with ancient reliefs—beasts, tamers, wars, dragons burning cities and being struck down by heroes who no longer existed.
Kael walked down the center aisle, Proto-Form floating just off the ground beside him.
Every seat was filled.
Students. Professors. Nobles. Observers.
And at the highest tier—
Lucien Viremont.
Kael's jaw tightened.
Lucien met his gaze calmly, lips curved in a polite smile.
Coward, Kael thought.
The System chimed softly.
[Host emotional spike detected.]
[Recommendation: maintain composure.]
Kael inhaled.
He stopped at the center.
The Council official stepped forward.
"Kael Ashborne," he intoned, "you stand accused of the following: unauthorized evolution triggering, destabilization of academy security, incitement of draconic resonance, and violent confrontation with noble-affiliated personnel."
Kael stared.
"…They tried to kill me."
Murmurs rippled through the hall.
Lucien raised a hand. "Allegedly."
Kael laughed.
That surprised everyone—including himself.
"You know," Kael said, voice carrying, "when I came here, people laughed at me because my beast was weak."
The Proto-Form pulsed.
"I was told weakness had a place. That the System was fair."
He looked up at the reliefs of dragons above.
"But now that I survived—now that I didn't die quietly—you're angry."
Silence.
Lucien leaned forward. "This is not about anger. It's about order."
Kael's eyes burned.
"No," he said quietly. "It's about control."
The System chimed.
[Host statement aligns with high-probability sociopolitical analysis.]
The Council official frowned. "Mind your tone."
Kael straightened.
"I won't."
Gasps echoed.
Professor Halden stepped forward sharply. "Kael—"
"No," Kael said, not turning. "Let me finish."
He looked at the crowd.
"I didn't steal power. I didn't buy it. I didn't inherit it."
He placed a hand on the Proto-Form.
"I survived. Again and again. And this is the result."
The Proto-Form expanded slightly—just enough for the heat to be felt across the hall.
Students leaned back in their seats.
Some nobles turned pale.
The System blared.
[WARNING.]
[Dragon-line presence escalating.]
[Proto-Form designation required for stabilization.]
Kael froze.
"…Designation?"
The Council official scoffed. "It's already unstable."
Halden's eyes widened. "Kael—name it. Now."
Kael looked down.
The Proto-Form looked back.
Not obedient.
Not dominant.
Waiting.
Kael's throat tightened.
"…You were nothing," he whispered. "Less than nothing. They called you dirt."
The Proto-Form's heat softened.
"You survived anyway."
Kael smiled—small, fierce, unbreakable.
"So I'll call you that."
The System thundered.
[Designation accepted.]
[Proto-Form renamed: CINDER.]
[Identity anchor established.]
[Evolution stability increased.]
The hall shook.
A low, deep sound echoed—not a roar, not yet—but something ancient answering.
Cinder lifted its head.
Scales darkened into obsidian-black. Faint ember-lines traced along its body like glowing veins.
Lucien stood abruptly.
"…That name," he whispered. "That's a—"
The System screamed.
[Draconic true-name resonance detected.]
[External dragon awareness increased.]
Kael didn't look away.
"This is Cinder," he said clearly. "And I won't apologize for surviving."
The Council official hesitated.
This was not how hearings were supposed to go.
"…Kael Ashborne," he said finally, "you will be placed under special classification."
Kael tilted his head. "Meaning?"
"You will not be expelled," the official continued. "But you will not be protected."
Murmurs exploded.
"You will operate under probationary autonomy. Any further destabilization will result in immediate intervention."
Lucien smiled faintly.
Kael smiled wider.
"So," Kael said, "you're throwing me to the wolves."
The Proto-Form—Cinder—rumbled.
The System chimed.
[Assessment: favorable outcome for growth.]
Kael laughed softly.
"Figures."
Outside the hall, Luna grabbed Kael by the sleeve and dragged him into an empty corridor.
"Are you insane?" she hissed.
Kael shrugged. "Probably."
Her eyes searched his face. "…You named it."
He nodded.
"That was a declaration," she said quietly.
Kael met her gaze. "Good."
Iris burst in moments later. "THAT WAS AMAZING."
Nyx followed, eyes unreadable. "You've been marked."
Kael leaned against the wall, exhaustion crashing into him.
"I know."
The System chimed gently.
[Cinder status: stable.]
[Bond integrity: high.]
[Future conflict probability: extreme.]
Kael closed his eyes and smiled.
"Good."
Far above the Academy, beyond clouds and sky—
A dragon opened both eyes.
And spoke a name.
Cinder.