Two days passed in a blur—two days that felt like mere hours swept up in a storm of motion, voices, and the hum of magic reawakening. The palace's western wing—once a grand observatory now long dormant—had been transformed into a living nexus of crystal light and arcane machinery.
The vast chamber was alive with motion. Golden conduits pulsed like veins across the floor, connecting to tall, prism-shaped pylons that resonated softly with a low, harmonic hum. Arrays of floating runes shifted in precise sequences overhead, mirroring the rhythmic pulse of the ley beneath the palace.
Lyssandra stood in the center of it all, hair tied in a messy bun, goggles perched on her head at a crooked angle. She darted between consoles, her crystalline tablet in one hand, a calibration stylus in the other.
"Careful with the stabilizers, Mira! The resonance balance is delicate—too much interference and we'll blow out half the sensors again!" she called over her shoulder, nearly tripping over a coiled cable.
Her assistants—three young mages in silver coats—hurried to obey, adjusting levers and feeding power into glowing orbs suspended in containment frames. The air shimmered faintly with static energy, the kind that made hair rise and magic tingle against the skin.
Selene paused at the threshold with Anna beside her. The girl's small fingers clutched the edge of her mother's sleeve as her gaze swept over the strange devices, wide-eyed.
"It's like… it's breathing," Anna whispered softly, her voice filled with wonder.
Selene smiled faintly, though worry shadowed her eyes. "It's the resonance," she murmured. "Your grandmother was skilled in it—she could feel the earth hum before storms. And your great-grandmother… she was said to be a master of resonance magic itself, able to weave harmony from chaos."
Lyssandra turned at the sound of their voices, a bright smile spreading across her face despite the exhaustion beneath her eyes. "Ah! Perfect timing, Your Majesty! Princess Anna!" she exclaimed, nearly dropping her tablet in her excitement. "Everything's almost ready—well, mostly ready. I mean, the spectrum calibrators are being temperamental as usual, but who isn't under pressure, right?"
She motioned toward a softly glowing dais at the center of the chamber—an intricate circle of runes intertwined with golden veins of light. "If you'll just step here, Princess, we can begin syncing the resonance field. Don't worry—it's perfectly safe! Probably!"
One of her assistants groaned quietly. Lyssandra shot them a sheepish grin. "I mean… statistically safe. Very safe."
Selene exhaled slowly, steadying herself as she led Anna forward into the ring of light. Around them, the instruments shifted, the ambient hum deepening to match the rhythm of Anna's heartbeat.
Lyssandra's expression softened for a moment as she watched—the scientist's awe rising above her exhaustion. "Look at that," she murmured, almost to herself. "It's like the ley itself is… greeting her."
The chamber shivered with energy.
At first, it was subtle—the faint flicker of light running through the floor conduits, the low thrum of crystals harmonizing in perfect sync. But then, one by one, the machines began to awaken on their own.
A pulse surged through the room, golden light racing along the carved veins in the floor, climbing the pylons, and igniting the suspended orbs above. The air trembled, alive with the sound of distant chimes—like a chorus of unseen bells answering a call only they could hear.
Lyssandra froze mid-adjustment, her stylus hovering in the air. "Wait… I didn't activate the primary array yet."
One of her assistants, a young mage with trembling hands, glanced nervously at the readings on his tablet. "Dr. Vale… it's syncing itself. The field's responding directly to—"
Anna.
All eyes turned toward her.
The runes beneath the girl's feet flared, lines of radiant light spiraling outward like a blooming flower. Her hair lifted slightly in the current, eyes wide—not with fear, but with something like recognition. The chamber's hum deepened, resonant and warm, as though the very world was breathing through her.
Lyssandra's heart pounded as she watched the sensors activate one after another without command. "By the Pillars…" she whispered, half in awe, half in disbelief. "She's not reacting to the machines. The machines are reacting to her."
The crystal pylons sang—a sound so pure and harmonic that it sent shivers down every spine in the room. Each one aligned toward the dais, light refracting through them into a kaleidoscope of shifting patterns that circled Anna like living constellations.
Selene instinctively took a step closer to her daughter, shielding her slightly though no harm seemed to come. The golden light danced along her skin like sunlight through water.
Lyssandra, unable to help herself, scrambled for her tablet, her fingers flying across its surface. "This… this shouldn't even be possible! She's overriding the array, rewriting the harmonic output completely—oh stars above, it's beautiful."
One of the assistants whispered, "It's like the ley itself is… listening."
Lyssandra swallowed, her eyes glistening with awe as she whispered, "No… it's singing."
The light intensified once more, bright enough to wash the chamber in gold—and then, just as suddenly, it dimmed, leaving a deep stillness in its wake. Every instrument remained active… but silent, as if bowing in reverence.
Only Anna remained illuminated, her aura faint but steady, a soft pulse radiating from her chest that matched the heartbeat of the world itself.
Lyssandra's voice was hushed, trembling with wonder. "We didn't activate anything… she called them. The ley lines answered her."
Lyssandra's eyes darted across the shimmering data lines cascading over her crystalline tablet. "Wait—no, that's not right…" she murmured, fingers flying across the runes. "The internal readings— they've changed again. It's adapting."
Her assistants looked at one another nervously as faint tremors rippled through the air. One of the consoles flickered, its readings fluctuating in rapid, almost rhythmic pulses that seemed to echo Anna's breathing.
Lyssandra leaned in closer, her excitement building with every heartbeat. "Oh stars above…" she whispered. "It's… growing."
Selene stiffened. "Growing? You mean the egg?"
"Yes—but not in the way we expected." Lyssandra's voice trembled with a mix of exhilaration and disbelief. She adjusted the magnifying lens again, and the projection above Anna's form shifted, focusing on the intricate lattice of glowing energy within her chest and arms. "Look at this—these aren't normal ley conduits anymore."
The others leaned in, and the air shimmered with light as a spectral image appeared—Anna's body overlaid with a network of radiant lines, glowing like rivers of gold and azure. They twisted and pulsed with impossible precision, forming geometric symmetry far beyond human anatomy.
Lyssandra's jaw dropped. "Her mana veins—they've been completely rewritten."
Selene's heart pounded. "Rewritten? What does that mean for her?"
"It means…" Lyssandra adjusted the lens again, eyes wide with rapture. "It means the Aether Dragon Egg isn't dormant anymore—it's begun simulating with her. The resonance is merging with her physical structure, reinforcing and evolving her from the inside out. Her veins are functioning like ley channels now—stronger, more efficient, alive."
Elara's eyes widened. "You're saying the egg is using her body as part of its growth?"
Lyssandra nodded rapidly, words tumbling out in a rush. "Not just using—it's synchronizing! This isn't parasitic, it's symbiotic. The dragon's essence is learning through her—rewriting her magical anatomy so that when it hatches, their resonance will already be perfectly aligned!"
One of her assistants whispered, "That's… that's unprecedented. No recorded dragon bond has ever—"
"Exactly!" Lyssandra exclaimed, spinning toward them, half laughing in sheer disbelief. "Normally the dragon emerges after the bond, once both life forces are stable. But this—this egg is building that link as it grows! She's not just hosting it—she's becoming part of it!"
The room glowed with faint resonance light, the sigils on the machinery humming as if in answer to Lyssandra's words. The rhythm of Anna's breathing deepened, each exhale accompanied by a faint, musical vibration in the air.
Selene's gaze lingered on her daughter, a mix of awe and fear flickering behind her eyes. "So… it's changing her."
Lyssandra nodded slowly, still staring at the readings. "Yes. And at this rate…" She swallowed hard, her excitement tempered by the enormity of what she was seeing. "In time, it won't just be her mana that changes. The resonance inside her could grow strong enough to reshape what it means to be human."
The hum of the machines lingered like a held breath. No one spoke for a moment—until a quiet voice rose from the back of the chamber.
It belonged to one of Lyssandra's youngest assistants, a frail, soft-spoken boy who had barely said a word since their arrival. His hands were clasped around a thin slate of etched crystal, trembling slightly as he looked toward the glowing projection above Anna.
"I've… I've read something about this," he said hesitantly, his tone barely above a whisper.
Lyssandra turned, blinking in surprise. "What was that, Apprentice?"
He hesitated, but when everyone's attention fell on him, he drew in a shaky breath and continued, "In the old archives beneath the Aurelian Library—what's left of them, anyway—there are fragments about the Dragon Riders."
The words hung in the air like a ghost from another age.
Selene's brow furrowed. "Dragon Riders?"
The young man nodded nervously. "Ancient beings who… didn't just bond with dragons—they shared a single soul. The stories say they were created in the first age, when the world's song was still being written. They could channel the voice of the Aether itself through their dragons… shaping storms, healing the land, even bending time."
Lyssandra's stylus slipped from her fingers, clattering against the floor. "Those are—those are myths," she stammered, half to herself. "Children's stories told by firelight to scare or inspire."
The assistant swallowed, meeting her gaze with quiet conviction. "Maybe. But some of the fragments I found weren't stories—they were records. Written by early Resonance Scholars before the first empire fell. They said that when the Silence came, the last of the Riders gave their lives to seal it away… and that their bond with the Aether Dragons was what allowed the world to keep singing."
A deep, uneasy stillness followed. Even the hum of the equipment seemed to fade, as though the room itself were listening.
Selene's hand tightened on Anna's shoulder. "You're saying my daughter—"
The assistant shook his head quickly. "I'm not saying she is one. Only that…" His voice softened, almost reverent. "…if these stories have any truth, she might be the first to walk that path in thousands of years."
Lyssandra stared at him, wide-eyed, the scientist in her torn between disbelief and wonder. "A Dragon Rider… a true Aether bond…" She exhaled sharply, laughing under her breath in awe. "If that's true, then this isn't just an anomaly. It's history awakening."
Selene's gaze flickered to Anna—still faintly glowing with that inner light, peaceful and fragile, yet somehow impossibly strong.
Anna's voice broke the awe-filled quiet. "So… does this mean I can still go to school?" she asked, hesitant but hopeful. "With Talia and Elara?"
Lyssandra blinked, momentarily thrown off by the simplicity of the question after what they had just witnessed. Around her, the assistants exchanged uncertain glances.
"Well," Lyssandra began carefully, adjusting the data tablet in her hands, "your body has… adapted faster than I expected. The resonance pattern is stabilizing, your vitals are strong—stronger than before." She paused, looking back at the faintly glowing veins that pulsed with dragonlight. "In theory, yes… you're well enough."
Anna's face lit up, pure and bright. "Really?"
Lyssandra sighed, the corner of her mouth twitching into a reluctant smile. "Really. But," she added, holding up a warning finger, "I'll need to run one last full scan tomorrow before I send the report to the Emperor. If everything still looks this stable—then yes, you can join your sisters."
Before Lyssandra could continue, a deep, measured voice cut cleanly through the hum of the lab.
"Then you'll give me that report the moment it's ready."
Every assistant froze. Even the soft whir of the analysis equipment seemed to falter.