Page 130 of Flameborne: Chosen

“I have a question for our Flameborne,” Einar drawled.

Swallowing hard, I made myself sit up and meet his eyes.

“Why didn’t you tell us you were in need?” he asked bluntly.

I was mortified. I swallowed hard. “I didn’t know I was going. I was invited after you left.”

A murmur met that, and they all turned back to Donavyn.

“Sir, how could we be expected to know if she didn’t?” Harle asked.

“You aren’t,” Donavyn replied simply. “But you are expected to have trained your newest, youngest squadmate to make sure you’re made aware of their plans when you return. Not only did this Flameborne not understand that anyone else should know where she was. She didn’t believeanyone would care.”

I shrank as low on that tall stool as it would allow while every one of my brothers turned to stare at me like Donavyn had just told them I’d eaten their sweets without permission.

“This won’t happen again,” Ronen muttered from where he leaned against the Instructor’s table at the front, his arms folded and his expression frustrated. The others nodded, but he turned to look at each of them in the same way Donavyn had earlier. “From now on, our squad has a new rule for any and all members: if you are leaving the Reach without telling me or Gil, you leave a written message for me in the Officer’slounge and a note in the barracks.” Then he turned to look directly at me. “Bren, you won’t be given access to the barracks, but you can write a note and give it to a runner in the Academy building and they'll know where to leave it. Or in a pinch, grab a stableboy. They can get it to the Furymaster in a real emergency.”

I nodded and tried to look determined, but inside I was crumbling.

“A good plan,” Donavyn said quietly. “I trust this kind of oversight won’t be a problem in the future?”

“No, Sir!” they all barked in response.

“Then I believe you have a patrol scheduled. You’re dismissed,” Donavyn said. He didn’t move, just stayed there at the front of the room as everyone rose quickly to their feet, their chairs and stools scraping on the stone floor. I wanted to drop my head and disappear so they’d all leave without speaking to me. But I knew I couldn’t. It took a moment to slide off. I landed awkwardly and almost lost my balance, but when I found my feet I turned to find my brothers all lined up in front of me.

I blinked. “What—”

Einar was closest. He extended a closed fist towards me, not in a punch, but with his knuckles flat towards me. “I have been remiss in my duties to you, brother. Will you forgive me?” he asked through his teeth.

I was confused and instinctively looked at Donavyn over his shoulder whose jaw flexed, but he nodded once. His eyes cut to Einar then back to me.

I swallowed hard. “I… yes. Of course. And I’ve been, um, remiss as well,” I said, stumbling, uncertain if that was the right response. But no one winced or told me to stop, so I continued. “Will you forgive me, too?”

Einar nodded. But he didn’t move. A long moment later he looked down at his own hand and muttered through his teeth, “Touch my fist with yours, it’s our sign of a binding agreement.”

“Oh!”

I quickly made a fist and pressed my knuckles against his. Then he hurried down the aisle towards the door. Which was when Jhoare stepped up, his eyes that normally twinkled, pinched at the sides.

“I have been remiss…”

One by one, they all came to stand at my toes, offer their fists, and exchange requests to be forgiven and promises to forgive. By the time they’d all filed through, I was on the verge of tears of embarrassment and fear. Harle winked at me and whispered at me that it could have been worse, then clapped my shoulder and followed the others out the door.

They had to besosick of me. All these stupid traditions I didn’t know, and all the ways I kept getting things wrong, or missing the mark. God, I couldn’t believe Donavyn had made them do this. It wasn’ttheirfault I was touched by an asshole last night and panicked!

But when I turned to see if Donavyn had left, instead I found Ronen.

Ronen. The Wing Captain.

He stood exactly as the others had, his fist extended, his jaw flexing. “Bren, I have been rem—”

“No,” I gasped. “You don’t have to—”

“I do,” he said firmly, but quietly, eyeing me with a warning in his gaze. Then he cleared his throat. “Bren, I have been remiss in my duties to you as a brother. Will you forgive me?”

I wanted to crawl into a hole and die. “Of course. But you haven’t. This is my fault—”

“Bren, that is not the response. When a man humbles himself before you, you do not argue with him,” Donavyn snapped.