Page 25 of Flameborne: Chosen (Emberquell Academy #1)

The staircases were wide and tall, designed for massive men.

They lined hallways and climbed from alcoves through the ground floor.

So many. Such a big building. I was overwhelmed.

But as soon as I tore my eyes from the incredible structure and its decoration, I was smacked in the face with the sheer number of men.

Standing together in the hallways talking.

Climbing stairs. Calling to each other—some jogging to catch friends.

Others rushing from training, or perhaps unhappy masters.

All large men. Tall. Physically strong. They came in every build and shape from lithe, lean men who looked and moved like nocked arrows ready to fly, to massive, bear-like figures who could grasp my entire head in one thick palm, and whose chests blocked the view of a doorway.

Some quiet. Some loud. All dressed in dragonhide leathers that ranged from jet black, to deep brown, and a few that seemed blue from the corner of your gaze, but turned gray when you looked right at them.

All wore the leather trousers and the same, perfectly-crafted boots, shined to a near mirror-finish.

Most wore their jackets, some with scales or spines on the shoulders to denote rank, all with their bronze-molded, enamel sigils pinned to their chests.

A few were in shirtsleeves. They were all handsome and confident and terrifying.

They were clearly deadly. You could see it in the way they moved—each possessing the easy grace of a man unconsciously aware of his strength. A savage, unspoken confidence. Their bodies held the same tension as a coiled snake: not attacking, but ready to do so in a blink.

And yet, the most deadly of them marched just in front of me, heedless of the danger surrounding him. Perhaps because that same confidence in him was born of unerring control.

As the Commander strode briskly down the wide corridor, each of these powerful, deadly men snapped to attention and saluted as he passed.

No matter their size, or what might be present on the shoulders of their jacket, they all moved with alacrity at the sight of him.

Their leader. Their Commander, in more than name.

My trembling began anew, in part because there were so many men. And in part because the Commander had been kind the day before. I’d felt safe at his side. But now…

‘Donavyn is respected because he’s trusted,’ Akhane interjected amid my churning thoughts. ‘His strength is an asset to you, not a weapon to be used against you. Be calm, Little Flame. You’re in good hands.’

Before I could respond, the Commander turned sharply and pushed a large, swinging door aside, holding it for me to enter ahead of him.

I stopped dead.

He frowned. “Bren, are you—”

“You’re the Commander, you should go first,” I said hurriedly, taking a step back.

“And you are a woman, and I am a gentleman,” he said with a tight smile. “I appreciate the gesture, Bren. But I would hold the door for a woman of any rank. And we don’t have time to argue about it. I’ll make it an order if that will ease your mind.”

I shook my head and scuttled into the room which, to my surprise, looked like a general store .

I stood at the center of the wide, square floor, turning a slow circle to take in all the cabinets and shelves that were packed wall to wall, and floor to ceiling.

Every item of clothing, some weapons, tools, leatherwork straps and rings, every kind of blanket, sheet, and cover imaginable. There were even books.

My eyes landed on those and my heart leaped. There had been six books in my home and I’d read each of them a dozen times. But here there were three full shelves. There had to be a hundred books or more, and—

The Commander cleared his throat and I turned quickly, expecting his disapproval. Instead, he looked thoughtful, but he gestured to an older man standing behind the shop counter.

“Kearney, this is the Quartermaster. If you are ever in need of equipment, you should come here.”

I nodded as he turned back to the man who was wiry and older, but still vital. His graying hair barely more than whisps covering his bald pate.

“She needs to be measured immediately, and clothed in the best you can do for the Acknowledgement this morning. The servants gave her a dress,” the Commander said in the same flat, sharp tone of disapproval he’d had when he saw the dress in the first place.

This is… not appropriate, Bren.

I swallowed. The man behind the counter stared at me, his brows high. But he didn’t question the Commander, only bobbed his head, then ushered me through the little swinging half-door into another room beyond.

The second room was far too small for the sheer height of the ceiling, but half of it was taken up with a loft of some kind, levels of storage shelves and cubby holes.

This place was a treasure trove. I would have given anything for the chance to explore it and find all its secrets, but the thin, rat-like man who’d brought us in, muttered orders at two women who were seated and sewing leather with the kind of machines I’d only ever heard about—pedals that swung under their toes moving a number of parts, including a needle that was sharp enough to punch through the dragonhide.

How was that even possible?

“They’re diamond tipped,” the Commander murmured. “Don’t tell our enemies. If they haven’t discovered it for themselves, we don’t want to make it easier for them.”

I looked up at him, uncertain if he was joking. But he looked back at them without smiling.

Moments later I was being stretched and measured, peppered with questions, and discussed as if I was not present.

“We have the leggings for the handlers in training—she’s not much smaller than the boys. I could cut them to length, though they wouldn't be properly hemmed.”

Both women looked at the Commander, who had folded his arms and was watching on. “Whatever will do. I need her out of the dress, and clothed to stand with dragons in… half an hour,” he said with a quick glance at the clock on the wall.

There was a squeak and a scurry of activity around me as the women darted through another door on the other side of this strange room. Moments later, one of them was back to grab my hand and tug me through with them.

“We’ll be just a few moments, Commander!” she said breathlessly. “She won’t have a jacket, but we have a vest, and a sheath and—”

“Whatever you think is best. That will do. She just needs to look like she belongs.”

The woman nodded once, then yanked at my arm again and we were off.

A few minutes later, I stood in front of a full-length mirror, stunned.

Except as a silhouette in a window during a long ago trip to the city I’d never seen my entire reflection at once. It was unnerving.

The woman in front of me looked surprisingly capable.

Her hair was tightly braided. The white shirt had no collar, but it hugged her shoulders and tucked into the black leather leggings which were reinforced inside the knees.

A thick, black belt with a tongue that was too long, but tucked into the back so it was hardly noticeable kept the leggings from falling down, and the shirt from falling out.

A black leather vest made her shoulders look flatter, and emphasized the trim muscle in her upper arms. It also flattened her chest and was loose around the waist because it was made for a boy. But under the circumstances, that wasn’t a bad thing.

She had a second belt draped across her hips, a blade sheath hanging from it, though no blade.

“I look like an assassin,” I squeaked.

I didn’t sound like one.

One of the women giggled. “Not quite—they wouldn’t wear the white—but you look a lot more like a Furyknight than you did when you entered!” she said gleefully.

“Oh, I’m not a Furyknight—”

“Flameborne, Furyknight, same thing. It’s quite exciting to know that any of us could be Chosen if the dragons were willing,” she said wistfully, reaching to tug at the chest of the vest, as if she might find more room in the leather somehow.

“I… thank you for your help,” I said nervously.

“Get out there and show them how it’s done!

” the woman whispered, then winked at me.

Her aide seemed a lot less confident of my ability to show anyone anything.

I tended to agree with her. But I couldn’t deny that I walked a little taller when I stepped out of the room and back into the space where the Commander stood with the wispy, sharp-featured man who’d greeted us when we entered the Store.

The Quartermaster .

“Thank you,” I said quickly as both men turned to look at me, and to stare.

At first, my heart dropped to my toes. Whatever they saw, it was not smiles of delight on their faces as it had been for the women.

I looked down at myself in case I’d left the fly of the leggings unbuttoned or… but no. There was nothing.

I looked back at the Commander, pleading with him to understand. “They said there were few appropriate things that would fit—”

“No, no. It’s better than I expected,” he said faintly, then turned to the women who’d come in behind me and thanked them personally, before tipping his head to me and marching back out.

But he didn’t speak as we crossed the store, then back into the Academy building. He only muttered, “Through here,” when he ushered me back outside, then followed a cobbled path from the back of the building.

I couldn’t stop staring. There were more buildings on this side, all of them made from this incredible, glistening black stone that reflected blue where the sun hit it.

Then I heard a deep, vibrating rumble, and the pinch in my heart eased as Kgosi and Akhane lumbered around the corner to follow us up the path and onto a road that weaved towards the forest.

‘You look very Flameborne, Bren,’ Akhane said. It was only then that I realized how little she used my name.

I smiled my thanks, and touched my heart. Then followed the Commander before I stumbled over my own feet and turned this entire moment into a pantomime.

A Flameborne. I’m a Flameborne.

Bren Kearney, Flameborne.

It didn’t seem real.

Yet, the Commander led me up the road and into the forest. And not many minutes later, the trees gave way, opening to a massive clearing. The rustling I’d been hearing wasn’t the wind in the trees at all, but the wings of hundreds of dragons flapping and fluttering.

I was stunned.

I stood there, just inside the tree line, staring at a massive clearing surrounded by the forest, the land falling gently away from the road, down to an oval space at the bottom.

Dragons everywhere. Men everywhere.

Far more men than had been hurrying through the Academy halls.

And as the Commander strode out into the clearing, every one of them snapped to attention.

“Commander, Sir!” Their voices were so many and so loud, the call echoed over the forest several times.

Commander, Sir!... Commander, Sir!... Commander, Sir!.. .

“At ease!” he bellowed, and his words echoed too. As the men returned to what they’d been doing, and their voices rose in an eager hum, he turned to me, and he smiled.

“Come stand with me, Kearney. It’s time for your brothers to meet you properly.”

When I tentatively stepped up to his side, he turned back to face the massive crowd below, but kept his voice quiet through barely moving lips.

“No matter what happens, just go along with it,” he murmured. “There are traditions that belong only to us who are Chosen. Akhane will watch for you, and so will Kgosi and I. Do you understand?”

I didn’t. I wanted to shake my head and babble that I couldn’t be here, that they had made a mistake. But I felt the deep conviction in my dragon’s chest that we were exactly where we were supposed to be. And I saw the Commander’s measuring gaze when he turned his head to look down at me.

“I understand and I’m ready,” I lied.

“God go with you,” the Commander said.

And then he grinned.