The Dragon King and His Fallen Star novel Chapter 124

Chapter 124: Breaking the Pattern

EIRLYS’ POV

Claim

Orryx and Callum hadn’t been jesting when they said they would no longer hold back. Orryx’s blade swung faster now, each strike heavier, calculated to break through my guard.

“Good,” he said approvingly, though his next strike pressed me harder. “Strength and speed don’t mean complacence. Remember that.”

Callum stalked at the edge of my vision, waiting. His stance alone promised he would be far less forgiving once Orryx was done with me.

Steel rang as I caught Orryx’s strikes, my blade humming with every clash. I spotted an opening and lunged, but he was quicker. A feint, a slip past my guard, then the flat of his blade kissed my shoulder.

“Dead,” he said flatly.

I gritted my teeth, lungs burning, but the fire in me only flared hotter.

“That’s enough for now,” he said, lowering his blade. “You’ve done well.”

I barely had time to reset before Callum’s hand clamped around my wrist and spun me away from Orryx. His fist drove toward my ribs, and instinct hurled my arm up to block. Pain sang through my forearm on impact.

A few days ago, he’d decided I should learn to fight bare-handed, without steel or magic to shield me.

He was relentless-every strike heavier than the last, each one carrying the full weight of his strength. That didn’t surprise me. What surprised me was that I could keep up.

If I were still that shackled girl, I would already be sprawled on the ground. But now, my body moved without thought-feet adjusting, breath steady, as his knuckles missed my jaw by a

hair.

His grin sharpened, wolfish. “Good,” he growled. “Finally.”

Without warning, Callum’s boot slammed into my ribs, driving the air from my lungs before I even hit the ground.

“Told you not to let your guard down,” he said.

Dust stung my eyes as I coughed, blinking up at him-only to find he wasn’t stopping. The

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wolf in him flashed through his grin as he lunged again.

I froze, caught between rolling or forcing myself upright.

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Instinct flared. My hands flew up, and light erupted-searing, blinding-bursting from me in a wave. A shield snapped into place with a violent crack, flaring outward. The entire training ground went still.

Callum’s momentum crashed against it. The blast hurled him backward, his boots carving lines in the dirt before he rolled and sprang to his feet, laughing.

“You’re cheating.” He brushed the dust from his arm, grin still sharp. “No weapons. No magic. That was the deal.” His mock sternness didn’t quite hide the thrill in his voice.

I was still sprawled on the ground, chest heaving, the aftershocks of my magic prickling over my skin like static. I hadn’t known I could do that. No one had taught me.

My lips parted, fumbling for an excuse, but another voice cut clean across the training ground.

“Not cheating, Eirlys was defending herself.”

Every head turned. My breath caught as I followed the sound.

Kierygan strode toward us, his shadow stretching long in the afternoon sun. His gaze flicked to Callum, sharp as a blade, then dropped to me. Without hesitation, he extended a hand. I took it, and he pulled me to my feet.

Callum’s grin widened, all teeth. “Come to watch your mate bleed?”

“No.” Kierygan’s voice was low, final. “I’ve come to take her away. She’s been through enough for today.”

Callum chuckled. “Of course,” he said, tone laced with teasing. “Wouldn’t want her too worn out-she might be too drained for later, hmm?”

The way he said it, I knew there was something buried in the words. I kept my focus on brushing the dirt and grit from my training leathers, then finally looked up at Kierygan.

“Where are we going?” I asked.

“Ashteryn’s returned from Lireia,” Kierygan said, reaching out to wipe the sweat from my brow with a calloused thumb. “We’re going to his forge.”

A smile spread across my face. Ashteryn had been gone for days, and I could hardly wait to see him again. Kierygan laced his fingers through mine, and together we left the training

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When we reached the warded barrier, the forge door cracked open and Ashteryn’s head appeared. His mouth tugged into a rare smile as his eyes landed on me. “You’re welcome to come in, Eirlys.” Then, with far less enthusiasm, he added, “You as well, dragon.”

Inside the forge, Ulyanna, Scylla, and Evander were already seated at the small table tucked

into the far corner.

Evander smiled at me and motioned to the two empty chairs. “Ashteryn was just about to tell us what he discovered about the bell Morwenna and Mirael forged in Lireia,” he said.

Ashteryn approached the table, balancing a steaming teapot in one massive hand and a box of pastries in the other. My eyes immediately lit up. Moonmelt-if I remember correctly. He had brought me one on his first visit there. The memory made my stomach rumble.

Evander phased out and back in almost immediately, delicate teacups in hand, placing them neatly on the table before giving me a quick, teasing wink.

Ashteryn opened the pastry box and offered the first moonmelt to me. I didn’t hesitate; the warm, sweet aroma alone made my mouth water. He then set the box in the center of the table, free for anyone to take.

Pouring our cups, Ashteryn finally settled into his chair, fingers laced together. “It wasn’t easy, ” he began, voice calm but edged with tension. “Those witches knew how to cover their tracks. Bribes, threats… perhaps even allies I don’t know about.”

He leaned forward, eyes shadowed. “At first, my friend and I found nothing-no trace, no mention of a bell being forged. I was ready to give up… almost.” His gaze darkened further. Then I caught whispers about a dark metal no one has ever seen before.”

“That’s when I knew,” he continued, voice low, “they were speaking of the same metal as Eirlys’ bracelet. I followed the trail, listening to whispers until I found another alchemist, obsessed with studying it. He had no idea who I was, but I bribed him with a small fragment of your shattered bracelet.”

”

He lifted a tiny shard from his pocket, letting the dim light catch its dark, iridescent surface. “ In return, he shared everything he knew.”

I took a sip of tea, but my eyes never left him.

Ashteryn unfolded a worn, curling parchment and laid it carefully in the center of the table. On it, a meticulous drawing: a frame holding seven small bells, lined in a precise row.

“These bells,” he said, tapping the parchment with a finger, “each correspond to one of the

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seven natural musical notes.”

He paused, letting the weight of it settle. “I also learned that they must be struck in the correct sequence. I suspect each bell draws out one grain of light from Eirlys.”

Kierygan’s voice was quiet, almost a shadow over the table, yet it carried the weight of certainty. “The number seven… again.”

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Evander leaned forward, fingers steepled beneath his chin, eyes flicking briefly toward me. We follow Callum’s suggestion,” he said deliberately. “If the Light Reaper depends on precision, if the sequence of the bells is disrupted… he might fail. Or, at the very least, not succeed as efficiently.”

Ulyanna tilted her head, considering, then fixed her gaze on Ashteryn. “You still have fragments of the dark metal from Eirlys’ bracelet, don’t you? Perhaps you could forge something-a countermeasure, an intercept. Something capable of… interfering with the

bells.”

”

Ashteryn leaned back, folding his massive arms across his chest, eyes narrowing in thought. I held my breath, watching him, knowing just how precise and meticulous he could be. Then- a faint, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

“Maybe,” he said slowly, “I could forge something. It’ll take time… but yes, I think I could manage it.”

A collective breath of relief swept through the room. Even I felt a flicker of hope. Then reality struck me again.

“The Light Reaper… he already has two of the three relics,” I said quietly, voice tight. “If we’re going to stop him, we have to know the third.” I looked around the table, searching their faces for answers, for any clue. “How… how do we even find out what it is?”

I felt Kierygan’s hand brush against my back, tracing steady, reassuring lines. “We’ll find it,” he murmured, his voice low and certain. “We always do.”

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