“As a newly fledged dragon rider, you are now cleared to fly. However, for your safety, and your dragon’s, you’ll have lessons in launch and landing before you’re free to flyalone. For now, you’reonlyto launch when there are members of your squad with you, and you must alwaysinform one of us the direction you plan to fly, and when you’ll return. Am I clear?”
I nodded, though that sank my heart a little. I’d been looking forward to taking Akhane out when the others were flying patrols.
“How long will it be until we can fly patrols?” I asked eagerly—and then my heart dropped, because I saw the flicker of unease in Ronen’s eyes before he caught himself, and when I looked at the others, they all smiled nervously, or scratched the backs of their necks. “What?”
“A Flameborne is assessed ready to fly patrols when they’re preparing for the first trial,” Ronen said uneasily.
I frowned. “Isn’t that what I’m doing?”
Harle snorted and Einar elbowed him hard and hissed words I didn’t catch. Ronen glared at them both, but when he turned back to me, his expression was apologetic. “Yes, of course, this is all part of your preparation for the trials. But, there’s a great many steps between now and then, Bren. I just want you to be prepared that you’re still some way away from that.”
I hadn’t expected to be assessed tomorrow, but looking around at them all, it became very clear…
“You don’t think I’ll get that far.”
“Yes, you will,” Gil growled from behind Ronen, his expression still blank, but his eyes dark and glaring a warning at the others behind me.
“I know you’re here for a reason, Bren,” Ronen said without a hint of guile. “But even the men don’t all make it. You have a mountain to climb before you’re ready. I’m sorry, that’s the simple truth. My advice to you is to celebrate your win today—and to remain focused on the next goal. Do everything you can to reach it. We’ll help you.”
I gritted my teeth. “But you don’t believe Ican.”
“I believe you can,” Ronen said, nodding. “I’ve learned never to assume—with any Flameborne. The various hurdles, any single one could take a Flameborne or their dragon out of running for—”
“Akhane isnotgoing to fail!” I snapped. “If there’s a weakness here, it’s me.”
Ronen’s brows rose in warning, but he answered me. “Akhane is young and untried—as are you. It isn’t a criticism to acknowledge that you have some challenges to overcome, Bren. Don’t focus on that. A mountain is climbed stride by stride. Always focus on the next step in front of you. If you only watch the gap to the summit, you’ll fall off the path before you reach it.”
“That’s a very pretty way to say I’m clumsy,” I muttered.
“At least you haven’t shit your—”
“Shut thefuckup, Voski—my god!”
Everyone laughed, including me. I was grateful for the release of tension. But still…
When Ronen clapped my shoulder and we all turned to unharness our dragons, I wasn’t quite as elated as I’d been before the landing.
But as we returned the harnesses to the tack rooms and walked to the dining hall for lunch, my brothers were upbeat and celebrating that I’d taken my first flight. Even if it all felt a little fragile, there were reasons to smile.
Over the meal Ronen and Gil explained that I would be given lessons by different brothers each day, depending on their schedules for patrol and other responsibilities, and the various skills my brothers possessed.
But a thread of nerves underlined the entire conversation for me. My brothers were expected to train me in their off-hours. The times when they would usually be free to live their lives, or connect with their dragons.
They’d teach me the commands used when we flew in formation, and coach Akhane and I through techniques for different movements in flight.
I was excited, but horribly aware that I’d been struggling to learn new skills so far—and they were supposed to teach me these things in their off-hours? My progress was already slow. How much slower would I be, only able to practice a couple of hours day?
Then, after the meal, they all had to leave for shifts in the sky, and I was left to walk back to the stable alone. I was buoyant because I’d achieved something new and the sun was out. But I couldn’t deny the frustration at how slow my progress had been.
When I got back to the stable, Kgosi was out with Donavyn, but Akhane lay sprawled on her side in a rectangle of sun from the high windows, her tail lazily sweeping at the straw.
She’d deserved a rest after all that flying, so I crept through without waking her and went to my room intending to find somewhere to bathe properly, then speak to the Leathersmith again so that I could have a duplicate harness, or at least, pieces that could replace those I’d made that broke or stretched beyond use.
But when I walked in and lit the lantern in the corner, I turned to find a small, brown-paper wrapped package on my bed.
I picked it up and it was heavy, tied in twine. The note was a masculine scrawl, but it wasn’t signed.
This small gift recognizes your achievements in overcoming obstacles, and reaching new heights. I hope you find it inspiring.
