The Bullet That Missed

The Bullet That Missed Plot Summary

Introduction

# Wings of Revolution: The Dragon Riders' Reckoning In the shadow of Pytho's Keep, two orphaned children stand before creatures that could incinerate them with a breath. The boy grips the girl's trembling hand as she stares in terror at the great beasts before them—dragons, the instruments of her family's destruction, now choosing new riders in a ceremony that will reshape their world. Ten years have passed since the revolution toppled the dragonlords and their palaces burned, transforming Callipolis from a tyranny of blood into a meritocracy where peasants might rise and dragons serve justice rather than oppression. But revolutions devour their children, and the ghosts of the old regime cast shadows longer than anyone dares admit. Lee sur Pallor moves through the world with unconscious nobility, though his records claim he's nothing more than a slum orphan. Annie sur Aela carries the scars of dragonfire on her soul, a highland serf who watched her family burn before finding refuge in the same orphanage that sheltered her tormentor's son. Now they stand on the threshold of ultimate power—Firstrider, commander of the aerial fleet, ruler of Callipolis itself. In the northern seas, exiled dragonlords gather their strength, and the revolution's promise of equality will be tested in fire and blood.

Chapter 1: From Ashes to Wings: The Making of Revolutionary Orphans

The memories come in fragments when Lee least expects them. A sister's laughter echoing through marble halls. His father's strong hand steadying him on dragonback as they soared over burning villages. The metallic taste of fear when revolutionaries breached the palace walls, their torches turning his world to ash. He was eight when they killed his family. Eight when Atreus Athanatos, the First Protector, found him cowering in blood-soaked chambers and made a choice that would reshape both their destinies. Leo Stormscourge, son of the highland Drakarch, became Lee sur Pallor, orphan of Cheapside, his noble birth buried beneath carefully constructed lies. At Albans Orphanage, he met Annie. She was smaller than the other children, all sharp angles and watchful eyes, with hair like autumn leaves and scars deeper than skin. The older boys tormented her with casual cruelty until Lee intervened, a kitchen knife glinting in his small fist. It was the first time since his family's death that he had acted rather than endured. They became unlikely allies in that place of broken children. Lee taught Annie to read newspapers chronicling their changing world, while she taught him survival—how to work efficiently, avoid punishment, make himself invisible when violence threatened. But their fragile partnership shattered the day they watched Aletheia die. The great stormscourge had once been his father's mount, red-tipped wings cutting through highland skies like living flame. Now she was chained on the executioner's platform while crowds cheered the death of the last war dragon. Lee wept for his lost world, but Annie's tears told a different story. This dragon had killed her family, burned her village, left her orphaned in a realm that cared nothing for highland serfs. The truth hung between them like a blade—the dragon Lee mourned was the instrument of Annie's deepest trauma.

Chapter 2: Blood and Merit: The Dragon's Choice and Hidden Legacies

Two years later, the Choosing Ceremony changed everything. Thirty-two dragon eggs had survived the Revolution, and Atreus convinced the People's Assembly to hatch them for a new kind of rider—Guardians chosen by merit rather than birth, sworn to serve justice rather than ambition. Lee approached with barely contained excitement. This was his birthright, even if none could know it. The great hall where his ancestors had been Chosen now hosted children of bakers and blacksmiths, farmers and fishermen. Annie trembled beside him, her hand cold as they walked past the hatchling dragons. The stormscourges called to something in Lee's blood, but Annie's face—white with terror, streaming tears—made him pull her past the dragons of his heritage. They reached the aurelian section, and everything changed. The silver hatchling looked up at Lee with eyes like liquid starlight, and the world narrowed to that moment of recognition. Pallor, he would name him. But first came Annie's gasp of wonder as an amber-scaled aurelian lifted her head, golden eyes meeting brown in a connection that seemed to heal something broken in the girl's soul. Aela. The name came like a gift, like coming home after years in darkness. For the first time since her family's death, Annie smiled without reservation. They were no longer just orphans. They were dragonriders, Guardians of Callipolis, bound to creatures of legend and sworn to protect the realm that gave them purpose. The revolution had promised anyone could rise, and here was proof—two broken children lifted by wings of silver and gold. But in the ceremony's shadows, older powers watched and remembered. The dragonborn had not all perished in Revolution's fires, and some wounds festered in exile, waiting to reclaim what they believed rightfully theirs.

Chapter 3: Forged in Fire: Training the New Guard

Eight years of training forged Lee and Annie into weapons of precision and grace. They sparred daily, pushing each other to heights that left instructors speechless and fellow Guardians trailing. Lee commanded with natural authority, his tactical brilliance earning him leadership of the aurelian squadron. Annie flew with desperate intensity, as if every flight might be her last chance to prove she belonged in the sky. The Cloister became their world, built into living rock beneath Pytho's Keep, echoing with dragon roars and clashing steel. Annie grew tall and lean, movements precise as a blade, auburn hair cropped military-short. She flew Aela with grace that made seasoned riders pause, but her common birth marked her as outsider among noble-born cadets. Lee became everything the revolution promised—a leader forged in merit rather than blood. As squadron commander, he moved with easy authority, but Annie saw what others missed—the careful way he spoke Dragontongue, as if each word might betray him, the nightmares that woke him screaming, how his hands shook every Palace Day when the city celebrated his family's massacre. Training was brutal, designed to forge weapons from children. Goran, their drillmaster, pushed them beyond exhaustion, beyond fear, beyond breaking. Annie endured his casual cruelty, his sneers about peasant blood and proper places. She learned to channel rage into flight, make Aela an extension of her will, prove herself worthy through skill alone. The Fourth Order trials loomed—the final test determining who would rise to highest ranks. Annie knew she had the skill, but whispers followed her through corridors. Peasant. Upstart. Pretender. Even her victories were diminished, explained as luck or charity. But when she mounted Aela and took to sky, when dragon and rider moved as one through combat's aerial ballet, truth burned in her bones. She belonged here, not through birth or favor, but earned through blood and determination.

Chapter 4: Tournament of Souls: The Price of Rising

The arena filled with roaring crowds as the Fourth Order tournament began, culmination of years of training and sacrifice. Thirty-two riders had reached this point, but only four would join elite ranks guarding the city's future. Annie sat astride Aela in the staging area, heart hammering as she watched early matches. Each victory brought her closer to dreams, each defeat eliminated another rival. Lee dominated early matches with surgical precision, his tactical mind turning each bout into lethal chess. But Annie saw the cost in hollow eyes, how he flinched when crowds chanted his name. Power sur Eater, their longtime tormentor, advanced through brutality and cunning, his stormscourge breathing fire with vicious joy. As the field narrowed, old rivalries sharpened into deadly focus. The semifinal between Annie and Duck broke her heart. He had been friend, protector, the boy who made her laugh when the world seemed too dark. But friendship had no place in the arena, and when Aela's flames seared across his dragon's wing, when Duck crashed to sand with blood streaming from his scalp, something died in Annie's chest. She had won, but victory tasted like ashes. Annie's final opponent was Power, the patrician boy who had tormented her for years. He was larger, stronger, his stormscourge could breathe ash far longer than her smaller aurelian. But Annie had something Power lacked—desperate hunger of someone who clawed up from nothing and refused to be pushed down. The match became deadly dance of endurance and will. Annie played gadfly, darting in and out while Power's dragon exhausted its fire. When his mount finally ran dry, Power fled into clouds, hoping to recover hidden from the referee's sight. Annie followed without hesitation, and in that gray-white limbo between earth and sky, the real battle began. Power's dragon tackled Aela with illegal savagery, talons ripping through armor to draw blood. But Annie had learned to fight dirty in the orphanage, carving at his forearms with her boot knife until he released them. When smoke cleared, Power sat dazed and defeated, his helmet in Annie's triumphant grasp.

Chapter 5: Shadows of the Past: When Exiles Return

The sighting came during routine patrol over the North Sea. Lee led the aurelian squadron through storm clouds when they broke into clear sky and found themselves facing a full dragon fleet. The riders wore colors of the old regime, their dragons bearing proud lines of pure breeding lost in Revolution's fires. For a heartbeat, Lee felt emotions spill into Pallor with overwhelming force—longing, recognition, desperate hunger for family buried nine years. These were his people, his blood, come home at last. But Annie's sharp command cut through reverie, ordering squadron retreat and immediate report. In Inner Palace council chambers, General Holmes and the First Protector received news with grim determination. The New Pythians had finally revealed themselves, their message clear—rightful rulers of Callipolis would not remain in exile forever. War was coming, whether Callipolis wanted it or not. That night, Lee found a letter tucked into his homework—message from Julia Stormscourge, his cousin, childhood companion, now Firstrider of the Pythian fleet. She had recognized him in the tournament, been watching and waiting for the right moment to make contact. The girl who once dreamed of riding dragons had achieved her ambition in exile, and now offered Lee the same choice—remember his blood, or betray it forever. The letter spoke of glory and vengeance, of retaking what was rightfully theirs and making enemies pay for Revolution's crimes. It awakened something Lee had tried to bury—old hunger for power, sense of birthright denied, seductive promise of a world where he wouldn't have to hide what he was. But it also forced uncomfortable truth—the world Julia wanted to restore was the same one that created Annie's suffering. The dragons she commanded with pride were instruments that burned highland villages and orphaned countless children.

Chapter 6: Loyalty's Edge: The Test of Blood and Belief

The attack came during the Lycean Ball, when Guardians wore silk instead of armor, dragons unsaddled and weapons stored away. Alarm bells shattered night's revelry like glass, sending riders scrambling for flamesuits while beacons lit across the northern coast. Lee led the response with Cor and Crissa, their dragons cutting through storm clouds toward alarm's source. But they arrived too late for battle—Pythians had struck and vanished, leaving only fire and devastation. Starved Rock, a small fishing community, burned like a torch against dark sea. The extraction was nightmare of smoke and flame, collapsed buildings and desperate searches for survivors. Lee found himself pulling Duck back from burning structure, watching helplessly as roof caved in on voices calling for help. Seven dead, nineteen survivors, and a message delivered by traumatized child forced to memorize Julia's words. The message was both ultimatum and personal appeal—surrender by Palace Day, or face full fury of sparked dragonfire. But the final line cut deepest—"Do you really want to make more orphans of Callipolans?" Julia speaking directly to Lee, reminding him what they'd both lost, both become. In the aftermath, as Lee transcribed the boy's testimony for the First Protector, he felt weight of complicity crushing down. He had known this was coming. Could have warned them, prevented it, but chose silence over betrayal. Seven people were dead because he couldn't choose between blood and beliefs. Julia arranged a second meeting on Wayfarer's Arch, a dragon perch suspended between nations like bridge across impossible gulf. There, under stars that witnessed empires' rise and fall, she showed him the future she offered—Erinys breathing sparked fire into night, demonstration of power that made Callipolis's unsparked fleet seem pathetic. The Pythians had achieved what Callipolis could not—dragons breathing true fire, weapon that could level cities and break armies.

Chapter 7: Fire Against Fire: The Final Reckoning

The Firstrider Tournament arrived like a storm, two dragons circling each other in the vast blue arena of sky. Lee and Annie had trained for this moment their entire lives, but now that it was here, destiny's weight pressed down like physical force. Below them, the city held its breath, thirty thousand voices falling silent as the two greatest riders of their generation prepared to settle supremacy's question once and for all. They knew each other too well, these orphans forged in the same fires. Every strength, weakness, desperate gambit lay exposed between them like an open book. Annie flew with fury of someone who had everything to prove, her common birth driving her to heights noble blood could never reach. Lee matched her move for move, tactical brilliance turning aerial dance into deadly poetry. They were perfect equals, mirror images of each other, and battle could have continued forever if not for the spark that changed everything. Pallor convulsed beneath Lee, great body wracked with ancient magic that had slumbered in dragon blood for generations. The sparking hit like lightning, raw power flooding through the bond between rider and mount. Lee felt it too, intoxicating rush of godlike strength, terrible joy of holding fire itself in his hands. When Pallor breathed, flames emerged burning with heat of stars, and Annie disappeared into cloud of superheated steam and smoke. The silence that followed was deafening. Lee circled his oldest friend's motionless form, heart hammering as he searched for signs of life. Aela's eyes still burned with awareness, great chest rising and falling in labored breaths, but Annie hung limp in her saddle, armor blackened and smoking. Without thinking, Lee cut himself free from Pallor's stirrups and leaped across the gap between dragons, landing behind Annie's unconscious form. His hands shook as he opened her coolant valves, whispered apologies into unhearing ears. He had won the tournament, claimed the title dreamed of since childhood, but victory tasted like poison. The crowd below roared his name, but all he could hear was his own heart breaking.

Chapter 8: The Crown's Weight: Revolution's Children Inherit the Storm

The final test came at dawn, in highland gorge where hot springs bubbled from earth's heart. Lee faced Julia across steaming pool, two cousins separated by choices that could never be undone. She wore armor of their house, stormscourge heather bright against black steel, and for a moment he saw the girl who once played at dragons in palace gardens. But that child was gone, burned away in fires of exile and loss, leaving only duty and terrible weight of blood. They spoke of the past, of fathers and sins, of different paths that brought them to this moment. Julia still believed in their birthright, in natural order placing dragonlords above common clay. Lee had learned harder truth—that power without compassion was just another tyranny, that revolution's promise of equality was worth more than any crown. When words failed, as they must, they took to sky for their bloodline's last dance. The battle was brief but terrible, sparked dragonfire turning gorge into vision of hell. Lee fought with tears streaming down his face, each blow a betrayal of everything once held sacred. But when the moment came, when Pallor's flames found their mark and Julia's dragon screamed in anguish, he did not hesitate. The girl who shared his childhood died in fire and smoke, and with her died the last of his innocence. He returned to Callipolis carrying her helmet like funeral shroud, weight of kinslaying heavy on his shoulders. On Pytho's Keep, before assembled witnesses of a new age, Lee knelt and renounced his birth. The words came in old tongue, formal and final as funeral rite. He was no longer Leo Stormscourge, heir to ancient privilege, but Lee of Callipolis, servant of the revolution that raised him from ashes. But even as Atreus accepted his oath, even as crowds cheered his loyalty, Lee knew he couldn't lead them into coming war. He had proven dedication in blood, but the cost had hollowed him out, left him a weapon too damaged for command. Instead, he turned to Annie, his partner in all things, and offered her the crown he could no longer wear. She stood before him in morning light, auburn hair bright as flame, brown eyes steady as stone. The peasant girl who once trembled before dragons now commanded them, and when she accepted leadership's badge, it felt like destiny finding its proper course.

Summary

In the end, the revolution devours its own children, as revolutions always do. Annie stands in her new office, command's weight settling on her shoulders like funeral shroud, wondering if this is what victory is supposed to feel like. She has everything once dreamed of, and it tastes like ashes. Lee serves as her second without complaint, his tactical brilliance undiminished by ghosts haunting his sleep. They are bound together by shared trauma and mutual understanding, two survivors clinging to each other in their innocence's wreckage. The war that is coming will test everything they have built, everything they believe in. The Pythians gather strength across the sea, their dragons breathing fire and hearts burning with desire for vengeance. Callipolis prepares as best it can, but preparation will not be enough. When the final battle comes, it will be fought not just with flame and steel, but with the fundamental question of what kind of world they want to build from the old's ruins. The revolution promised equality, justice, a chance for anyone to rise—but promises are easy to make and hard to keep when survival is at stake. Two orphans have become the guardians of a dream, and they will pay whatever price that dream demands.

About Author

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Richard Osman

Osman delves into the intersection of entertainment and storytelling through his unique contributions to television and literature. Known for his work as the creator and co-presenter of the BBC quiz show "Pointless", Osman has built a career that seamlessly combines humor, suspense, and character-driven narratives. His foray into fiction with "The Thursday Murder Club" exemplifies his ability to craft engaging stories that resonate with audiences, offering an "ingenious plot" set in a Kent retirement village. This debut novel launched a successful series, cementing his reputation as a notable author in the cozy crime fiction genre. \n\nBeyond his television career, Osman's literary works, including "The Man Who Died Twice" and "The Bullet That Missed", demonstrate his flair for blending witty dialogue with empathetic characterizations. This skillful combination has led to worldwide sales exceeding 10 million copies, underscoring his impact on readers who appreciate both humor and suspense. Furthermore, the adaptation of his debut book into a Netflix film illustrates his narrative's adaptability and broad appeal, attracting talents like Helen Mirren and Pierce Brosnan. \n\nOsman's career trajectory from television production at Endemol UK to bestselling author highlights his versatility and creative prowess. His work appeals to readers seeking engaging and accessible stories that offer both warmth and intrigue. As his books consistently appear on bestseller lists, including the "New York Times", Osman's ability to connect with diverse audiences remains evident. This brief bio encapsulates a dynamic career marked by a distinctive narrative style and the ability to captivate both viewers and readers alike.

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