Page 84 of Flameborne: Chosen

God, it was embarrassing.

But each day as I crept slowly closer to being allowed to fly, I remembered the General’s words and tried to face the challenges with determination rather than despair.

It took two whole weeks to be approved for my first flight.

The first time I’d shown my brothers my new harness and proudly—though slowly—demonstrated that I could harness, mount, dismount, and unharness alone, they’d all cheered me on. Until they asked me what had changed, and I excitedly showed them the straps, how the leathersmith had allowed me the use of dragonhide, and the ways I’d adapted Akhane’s harness so that it wasn’t as heavy.

Still babbling about how I’d find the time to make extras so her spare harness was workable as well, two of my brothers scowled, and the others glanced at Ronen as if waiting for him to speak up.

I stopped, mid-sentence, and looked between them. “What? What is it?”

Ronen kept his eyes on my brothers and gestured, as if giving them the chance to speak. It was Harle—one of the scowlers—who spoke up.

“This isn’t fair,” he said—not to me, but to Ronen. “When I struggled at first, no one letmemake the harness lighter because I wasn’t strong enough.”

“That’s because you didn’t need help, you needed to stop being lazy,” Gil drawled.

Ronen coughed, and my brothers snorted, and suddenly everyone was laughingexceptHarle. I wanted to laugh with them, but I was scared—Harle was usually so happy and ready to help and encourage me. Was this going to change that?

Harle scowled at first, but as the others laughed and teased, his cheeks reddened, then his lips twitched. When he started laughing too—then telling them all that they were assholes, I finally took a breath.

It was a great moment—and a huge relief to me. Ronen commended me and said we could move training forward to the next steps. I was ecstatic—so thrilled I almost hugged him. Until he instructed me to climb the Dragonmaw cliffs the following morning.

I felt the blood drain from my face and Ronen must have caught it, because he grew reassuring in his tone.

“It’s tradition. A Flameborne’s first flight launches from the Dragonmaw Cliffs because the dragons can just drop over the edge, which means you’re a lot less likely to fall when they launch. But also, we walk to the heights and spend that time in contemplation of how humble we are without the dragons, and what they offer us.” He smiled and patted my arm. “Don’t worry. You’ll never have to make that walk again, Bren.”

The reminder was devastating. But I remembered the General’s word—determination—andreminded myself that to have achieved permission to fly was so gratifying, it would be worth reliving that climb.

I told myself I’d be fine.

The next day, I rose before dawn, harnessed, then farewelled Akhane who would meet me at the top in a few hours, then began the walk, avoiding the wood where I’d seen Ruin on the first morning. As I walked, I kept returning my mind to Akhane and focusing on the future, trying not to think about the moment I’d passed that place on the road, or stopped at that tree stump on the trail.

I was sweating when I reached the top, but nowhere near as tired as I’d been on that fateful day. I wasn’t sure if it was the bond’s healing, or my body strengthening from the constant work. Or just that I’d slept last night. But as the morning sun cleared the distant horizon and I caught sight of the dragons flying towards the cliff, my heart raced. There was as much excitement as fear churning in my belly.

One by one my squad brothers landed their dragons on the grassy area along the cliffs until there were reds, grays, a goldscale, and greens milling around the long, wide grassy area that ran along the clifftops for miles.

I’d been instructed to stay near the trail head in the same area where I’d walked to that edge, but I pushed those memories away and focused my eyes on the skies, waiting for Akhane to appear.

I hadn’t even seen her when a thin dragon’s scream rose in the distant sky. It wasn’t an uncommon sound near the Reach, so I didn’t think much of it—until all my brother’s dragons raised their heads and raised their calls in return.

‘Little Flame! Come! We will fly!’

Akhane’s voice in my head was asong.She was ecstatic. I hadn’t thought of the fact that my grounding had limited the time she could be in the sky, also. I laughed and covered my mouth, searching the skies for her until I found her—pointed straight for me, her wings working rhythmically as she grew quickly from the size of a bird, to a stone, to a wagon—and then, while I laughed and danced on the spot, she loomed large, swooping into the clearing at the clifftops, back-flapping, and spreading her back legs to catch herself on the ground.

The dragons all raised their calls once more as she ran the final stretch to slow herself, then finally stopped and lowered her wings, ruffling them, snaking her head and lashing her tail.

I waited until she’d stopped displaying, delighted to see her in such high spirits—and even more delighted to feel her excitement in the bond.

Then, when she’d greeted the other dragons, she turned herself broadside to me and tucked her wings so I could mount.

Ronen appeared at my side suddenly, startling me. But I recovered quickly.

“Last time,” he said quietly. “Tell me your mounting protocol.” His voice was tight, but he smiled, his eyes on Akhane.

I nodded. “Check the buckles. Make sure all straps are in their keepers. Ask Akhane if she senses any issues. And if she’s comfortable, mount and clip in, then tie up the mounting strap for quick release.”

“Very good,” Ronen said with an easy smile. It was the first time I noticed that he was handsome. I tipped my head, surprised. “This is your moment, Bren. Every Furyknight has a memory of this first flight, and it lives in our hearts forever. You’ll never forget this day. You have the morning. Go. Practice your banks and turns, ascent and descent. Listen to your dragon. Enjoy yourself. We’ll see you at lunch.”