Sir Danny hillith of kattegatt's Arc

Chapter 6 of 10

The tower's interior smelled of smoke and old stone. Danny followed the dragon mistress through a narrow corridor lit by candles set in iron brackets. His ribs ached where the mark burned beneath his shirt. The dragon waited beyond a heavy wooden door at the end of the hall. But before he reached it, a figure stepped from the shadows near the entrance—a man with gray in his beard and leather worn thin at the elbows. Danny's hand went to his sword hilt before he registered the mark. Faded blue flame traced the man's collarbone, visible where his collar hung open. The stranger held something wrapped in cloth. "The bond doesn't end with the crown," the man said. His voice carried the weight of years. "It ends with the rider." He unwrapped the cloth to reveal a stone that caught the candlelight and split it into colors Danny had no names for. Rainbow hues swirled beneath flames that gave no heat. "This belonged to the last rider who walked away from a throne. She died forty years ago. The stone still burns." Danny stared at the relic, then at the dragon mistress. She hadn't moved, hadn't spoken. The stranger set the stone on a wooden bench against the wall. "There's a place north of here," he said. "A cave marked with the old symbols. Those of us with nowhere else gather there sometimes. You're welcome if the council makes Kattegatt too small for you." He nodded once to the dragon mistress and left through the door Danny had entered. The stone continued to burn on the bench, patient and unending. Danny realized what the stranger had given him—proof that the choice he'd made wasn't temporary, wasn't reversible even if he changed his mind. The mark would outlast his regret and his plans and every version of himself he'd rehearsed. He looked at the dragon mistress and found her watching him with that same uncertain expression from the gate. "I needed to know it was real," Danny said. Not a question. She nodded. "The dragon sent him. She wanted you to see what you'd chosen before you met her again." Danny touched his ribs where the mark pulsed. The ache had become something else—not pain, but presence. He'd spent three years planning the perfect moment to offer himself. The dragon had already decided he was hers. The stranger's stone proved the bond didn't care about his readiness. It simply was. Danny turned toward the heavy wooden door at the corridor's end and pushed it open.