The Matchmaker - The Arrax Saga Book 1 Chapter 177

They all drifted toward the edge of the clearing where Zafira stood, Asher still half‑wrapped around her in relief. Nikolas’s voice was the first to break the quiet, low and careful. “Are you okay?”

Zafira’s gaze flicked to him, then lingered on Saphira. Her lips curved into the smallest of smiles, fragile but real. “I am now.”

Saphira felt the words land in her chest like a weight and a gift all at once. She gave a small nod, her throat too tight to answer.

Jed stepped forward, his tone gentle. “Are you just watching today, or do you want to join in? No pressure either way.”

Zafira hesitated, her fingers twisting together. “What are you doing next?”

“Partial shifting,” Nikolas answered, his voice steady, though his eyes softened as he studied her.

Zafira thought for a moment, then lifted her chin. “I’ll join.”

Before Saphira could speak, Anastasia crossed the space in two strides and pulled Zafira into a hug. “I’m proud of you,” she murmured, squeezing her tightly.

Zafira blinked at her, startled, then frowned. “Shouldn’t you be resting? You almost died.”

Anastasia rolled her eyes and gave a playful shove to her shoulder. “Don’t start. I’m taking it easy. And I was absolutely fine during the first part.”

“Luckily,” Saphira added dryly, folding her arms.

Anastasia shot her a look, half glare, half grin, before breaking into laughter. The sound loosened the tension in the air, and even Zafira’s lips twitched.

Nikolas clapped his hands once, drawing them back to focus. “Come on then, let’s get started. But...” his gaze swept to Anastasia and Zafira, firm but kind, “if it’s too much, either of you, you stop. No arguments.”

“We promise,” they said together, though Zafira’s voice was quieter.

They walked back to the centre of the clearing, the grass bending under their boots. Saphira felt the shift in the group’s energy.

Nikolas stood tall, his presence commanding without effort. “Partial shifting is advanced,” he began, his tone instructional now. “Not everyone can do it, not the first time anyway. But with practice, any dragon can. Usually it’s tied to emotion, if the feeling is strong enough, it can come easily. But that’s not ideal. It can backfire, become uncontrolled, even dangerous.”

Jed stepped in, his voice more practical, hands gesturing as if shaping the thought. “You need to feel it inside you. Visualise it. Communicate it to your dragon. That’s when it happens.”

Nikolas gave a wry smile. “Of course, saying it like that makes it sound simple. It isn’t. Don’t be disheartened if it doesn’t happen straight away, or even within the next few sessions.”

Saphira glanced around the circle, noting the mix of expressions, Anastasia’s stubborn determination, Asher’s restless eagerness, Zafira’s quiet resolve. She flexed her fingers, feeling Vaelora stir faintly at the back of her mind. *This is where it begins,* she thought. *Where we learn what we’re really capable of.*

They formed a loose circle in the middle of the clearing, boots pressing the grass flat in a ring. The air felt charged, alive, as though the earth itself was holding its breath, waiting to see what they would do.

Nikolas’s gaze swept over them, steadily, his voice carrying the weight of command. “Alright. Close your eyes if it helps. Focus inward. Feel your dragon. Don’t force it, invite it. Let the shift come from within.”

Jed added, his tone practical, hands gesturing as though shaping the thought in the air. “Visualise it. See the part of yourself you want to change and tell your dragon what you need. If you’re aligned, it will answer.”

Saphira flexed her fingers, her pulse quickening. Her palms tingled with anticipation. *‘Alright, Vaelora. Let’s see if we can do this on command.’*

*‘We can,’* Vaelora murmured, calm and certain, her voice like warm embers in Saphira’s chest. *‘Just breathe.’*

Asher went first. He clenched his fists, jaw tight, shoulders rigid. His chest rose with a sharp exhale, and for a heartbeat his forearms shimmered, scales rippling across his skin like liquid light, before fading again. He cursed under his breath, shaking his hands out with frustration. “Almost had it.”

“Don’t grip so hard,” Nikolas advised, his tone firm but encouraging. “You’re strangling the flow. Loosen.”

Anastasia closed her eyes, lips moving silently as though whispering to her dragon. A moment later, her eyes snapped open, gold, slit-pupiled, glowing faintly in the morning light. She gasped, startled, then laughed, covering her mouth with both hands. “That… that was something.”

“Good,” Jed said, nodding with approval. “Hold it next time. Don’t let it slip.”

Saphira drew in a slow breath. She pictured her wings, the way they unfurled in flight, the strength in each beat, the freedom of the sky. She didn’t command Vaelora; she invited her. Heat flared down her spine, sudden and fierce, and then her wings burst free, half-formed but solid, edged with scales. The weight of them dragged at her shoulders, and she spread them instinctively, feeling the air catch.

She opened her eyes to find Nikolas watching her, pride flickering in his expression. His lips curved into a quiet smile. “Beautiful,” he murmured, just for her.

Zafira stood still, hesitant, her hands trembling at her sides. Her eyes darted between the others, then landed on Saphira. Saphira gave her a small, steady nod. *You can do this.*

Zafira inhaled shakily, then closed her eyes. For a long, tense moment, nothing happened. Her shoulders hunched as though bracing for failure. Then, with a sudden shiver, her claws extended, sharp and black, curling from her fingertips. She stared at them in shock, her breath catching audibly.

Asher whooped, unable to contain himself. “There she is!” He clapped her on the back, nearly making her stumble.

Zafira’s lips parted, a small, incredulous smile breaking through. She looked at Saphira again, eyes shining with something fragile but fierce.

Saphira’s chest tightened with pride, her throat thick. *She’s fighting her way back.*

Nikolas raised his voice, drawing them all together again. “Good. That’s the start. It won’t be perfect, not yet. But you’ve all touched it. That’s what matters.”

The group exchanged glances, tired, exhilarated, a little stunned. The clearing seemed to hum with the energy of beginnings, the air still vibrating with what they had just done.

Saphira folded her wings back, dissolving into skin with a faint shimmer. She flexed her shoulders, still feeling the phantom weight of them, and thought, *If this is only the start… what will we be capable of when we master it?*

Safira was unsure if she could control such immense power, and a strong sense of crisis filled her with fear for the future.

She seemed to have a premonition that she would bring great danger, even destruction, to the world.