Page 29 of Flameborne: Chosen (Emberquell Academy #1)

SOUNDTRACK: KAMELEON by Kami Kehoe

~ brEN ~

My chest hitched with pure joy as the men cheered and screamed, and some of the dragons bugled.

Tears were still blown back into my hair and my chest was tight with fear. But also freedom.

I’d never seen or felt anything like this. So high above life. The sky above me, the wind on my skin, so much of the world in sight, and yet so distant. It was beautiful.

‘Oh well done, Little Flame.’

‘Akhane, this is incredible.’

‘It’s only the beginning. The promise of more. We were made for this, Bren. It’s my joy to fly with you.’

Then the tears were pure emotion. I was overwhelmed by her. As we flew on, I wobbled and hunched, but stayed on my feet, awestruck by the view, and the sensation in my chest. As if the iron bands that were always clamped around my ribs had simply vanished.

Freedom.

I laughed, lifted a hand to wipe my eyes, and promptly overbalanced.

Adrenaline punched in my veins as my arms pinwheeled and I grabbed for the net again, my pulse thudding. I ended up back on all-fours, panting. My blood humming.

But the cheers still went up from the men.

“Well done, Flameborne Kearney!” Ronen crowed.

My body fizzed with a tangled mix of fear and elation. That joy still throbbed in my chest, but the precarious edge on which I stood, the yawning threat of death, made my body cry out for safety as well.

“How do we land? Will you roll me back up— ”

“Flameborne, attend. We aren’t done.”

My stomach dropped and that joy drained out of my toes. What other hell could they possibly want me to—

“Return to your feet and when you feel balanced, nod for your next instruction.”

What?

What next instruction?

“My fingers are numb. I’m afraid I’ll—”

“As a Furyknight we walk every day poised on the edge of war. We are servants, Flameborne. Devoted to our dragons, and our destiny. Sick, exhausted, wounded—it makes no difference. We are given instruction, we do it. I won’t explain again,” Ronen called sternly.

“Now, return to your feet and find your balance. And when you have, nod. I’ll give you the next instruction then. ”

I gritted my teeth and pressed my lips together hard to stop another outburst of swearing—and to force back a new wave of tears.

‘Akhane—’

‘Do as he says, Bren. He’s your Wing Captain. None of us are safe if our brothers and sisters ignore instruction. Trust him. If you cannot, then trust me when I tell you to listen and obey.’

A sob broke in my chest, but I swallowed it back. The muscles of my arms felt like jelly. My back ached. Between the tears and the wind, I struggled to see clearly.

But I was flying. It was beautiful.

Maybe it was possible? Maybe, if I did this I could become a Furyknight? Or—

‘Your purpose is determined already, Little Flame. We only wait to see it revealed. Do as you’re asked.’

There was no more joking from the men. No more cheering. Only silent flight as they waited for me. For a moment I considered outright rebellion. I would simply stay here and refuse to move. But Ronen’s words came back to me.

...we won’t land until you have walked the trial.

I couldn’t outwait, or out maneuver these men, especially if they worked together as Akhane said.

“Please—”

“Flameborne Kearney, you have received your first instruction. No further will be given until you nod.”

My will to fight dissolved—yet, with that, my fear lurched to the fore.

What could they possibly expect of me that was more terrifying than standing without a hold at this height, while flying?

I closed my eyes and dropped my head, gathering myself.

Then I clenched my teeth, pulled my feet up under me, and stood.

Hesitantly. Wobbling when the wind rushed.

But I made it mostly upright until I stood at the center of the wide net with one foot a little forward and my arms extended slightly from my sides .

I felt every ripple and wave in that net. But I was on my feet. I looked up again to see the sea stretching ahead for countless miles, the sunlight flickering on its surface, the tiny lines that looked like clouds among the water which were actually white, frothy waves breaking…

Then I took a deep breath and nodded.

There was no cheering or encouragement this time.

“As quickly as you can, walk to the front of the net. You’ll find a strap there with a steel clip. Clip it to your belt and—”

“You’re going to kill me.”

‘Quiet, Bren!’ Akhane snapped in my head. My mouth closed so fast my teeth clicked and adrenaline jolted through me. ‘Don’t disrespect your Wing Captain again,’ she chastised me. ‘They’ve been kind to you. He’s accepted things he wouldn’t from the men. Don’t make him do it again.’

I swallowed and nodded again. “I… I apologize,” I called, not confident to turn my head to Ronen. “But, I don’t understand. Please explain.”

“There is a thick, leather strap in the middle of the front line of the net. Clip it to your belt and await instructions.”

I nodded hurriedly. “I understood that, only… the walking?”

“If you fall, take a moment to steady yourself, then begin again from the point where you fell. Do not crawl. Don’t move at all unless you’re on your feet. Lean into the wind and let its power take some of your weight as you shift from foot to foot.”

“But—”

“Assess and overcome, Flameborne. It’s a test. Meet it with the best of your ability.”

He had to be joking. Was this a prank? Did they tell Flamebornes this was possible, then laugh at them when they tried and failed? Was that why they didn’t give all the instructions?

The net sank under my weight. Where I stood, the strands were inches lower than even a single step ahead. I would have to lift my feet like walking stairs just to stop my boot soles catching. If one tripped me and I tumbled…

I could feel the yawning chasm behind me—one wrong step, one missed grip and the wind would tumble me backwards off the net and to my death.

‘I’ll catch you, Bren!’

A shudder rocked through me as I remembered the sensation of falling from the cliffs, watching death rush towards me—

Panicking, I dropped to my knees again, grabbing the net, and shaking my head. “I can’t. I can’t. I can’t!”

“You can,” Ronen said firmly. “Every one of us did it on our first flights, and you will too. The only question is how long it will take you to find the courage. Make no mistake, Bren: Furyknights are not devoid of fear. We’re only willing to grasp the Creator’s hand and walk through it.

There’s no other choice. We live on the edge of death.

We sleep cradled in the arms of danger. Stand, and walk. ”

I wasn’t sure if it was acceptance of my fate, or pure will that pushed me back to my feet, but I made it once more, shaking like a leaf from both cold and fear.

I leaned into the pounding wind and prayed silently, then lifted my right foot—and was immediately blown half a step backwards, arms pinwheeling, my weight shifting as the pull of gravity moved with the net and holy shit, I was going to die.

I cried out, but the cheers and encouragement rose.

“Lean into the wind! Let it prop you up!”

“Lift your foot slowly, feel your way!”

“If you wobble, lean forward and bend your front knee to drop your center of gravity!”

Instructions, advice, curses when I hesitated, or lost ground.

My heart banged against my ribs and pulsed so loudly in my ears, they were the only thing I heard over it.

I fell three times, once tumbling back half a body-length until I threw a hand out and hooked numb fingers in the net.

To my surprise, the chorus of hisses and groans from the men didn’t condemn my inadequacy, but rather, swelled with empathy.

They understood.

And finally, I grasped what Ronen had meant by telling me over and over that they’d all lived this day.

They were living it with me again. Right now.

All the teasing and cocky assurances, all the male chest-beating and one-up-manship was how they made each other remember that they were there. Together.

The jeers became cheers. The warnings, encouragement. And the laughter was celebration, not mocking.

It took a lifetime to move the twenty or thirty feet from the center of that net towards its forward edge, but in that time I understood.

These men truly flew together.

A brotherhood.

Just like Ruin had described.

I wondered if, just like Ruin, their loyalty stood even in the face of things that should be shamed? And would they expect that of me?

But there was no room in my head to consider the question. No time to measure them, or me.

I reached the final feet of the net, and suddenly a new challenge emerged.

While the edge of the netting was a thick rope that shone in a way the woven strands didn’t, and it pulled tighter between the dragons than the netting I walked upon, it also offered less give.

So, the little comfort I’d had that my feet sank into the net as my weight shifted, giving me more purchase and a smaller likelihood of simply tumbling off, as my steps took me closer to its edge the more precariously perched I became.

Those final two paces—less than the length of my body—were steep and far less secure because of the tension on the netting. I tried to take the first of them and wobbled back a third step, instead.

Instinctively, I leaned down to grab for the edge, but immediately, Ronen barked.

“Hands only to reach for the strap!”

I blinked—I’d completely forgotten about the strap. But there it was, a thick, wide strap several feet long and dangling from the edge, waving in the wind below the net.

Not only would I have to lean over the edge to get a grip on it, but given the thickness and weight of it, I imagined it would take both arms and most of my body weight to pull it up.

How the hell—

“Continue, Flameborne!”

The clapping and encouragement rose again, the men urging me on.

Almost there.

You can do it.

Grab it! Just grab it!

I took the step I’d lost, wobbled and had to wait to find my balance again, leaning forward, my fingers brushing the netting more than once. But I didn’t grab on.

‘Well done, Bren!’

‘Akhane, I’m not just being scared. I don’t know if I can do this.’

‘We’ll find out together,’ she said simply. ‘If you fall, I’ll catch you. But you won’t. Feel the wind as you lower yourself. Let it catch you.’

‘I don’t know if I can pull that strap up without falling forward!’

She didn’t answer, and I thought I was being urged to stop complaining.

But a few moments later, as I struggled to get my foot up the next step, Akhane’s sleek, silver-gray form appeared under and ahead of the net.

She flapped faster than the males that were all larger than her, though apparently much older as well.

But her flight was effortless. She edged ahead of the net about twenty feet below where I stood.

‘I’m here, Little Flame. I won’t let you fall. Be brave.’

I shook my head, and a rush of exhaustion coursed through me. My body trembled with it. But there I was, just one step from that taut edge, my dragon below to bolster my courage, and seven men and their dragons watching.

“Flameborne Kearney, no man has stood for the vow of Furyknight without risking the fall more times than he can count. This is your life now. Take it.”

Nerves prickled my skin, but suddenly, I wanted to be seen. By all of them—including Akhane. I wanted to believe that I could be as effortless in flight as they were. Fuck them, I wanted to believe that I could become a Furyknight .

Still trembling, my pulse so heavy in my skull that it throbbed, I took that final step, pointing the toe of my boot into the netting to catch it intentionally. And though it meant I couldn’t have both feet level, the strength of that push against my foot steadied me.

The men clapped and called as I wobbled down into a squat, but then I was stumped.

I wasn’t allowed to hold onto the net to steady myself, or brace.

But I had to reach over the edge to grasp the thick, heavy strap that probably weighed almost as much as I did.

I couldn’t lift that with one hand, but neither could I lean head and shoulders over the edge.

The weight of the strap would just pull me straight over.

I bit my lip, scanning where the strap was attached and wondering if there was a way to lift it through the netting, but of course there wasn’t.

“Balance in flight is weight and counterweight. Get your center of gravity over your heels. Grasp it with one hand, but keep the other back for balance and lean back. Use your knees to lift,” Ronen instructed, his voice slightly muffled by the wind now that he was behind me.

But I could see no other way except to do as he said, so with a hurried prayer that if I died, it would be quick, I did my best. I sank deeper into the crouch until my extended arm was almost level with the edge of the net, and threw the other arm back.

But when I finally got a hand on that leather—an inch thick and several inches wide—I faced a new challenge.

My hand was too small to get a solid grasp of both sides of its width. I would have to try and lift it with only my thumb above and fingers beneath.

I tried twice—once squeaking when the wind eased suddenly and my weight shifted forward. But I caught myself on the edge before my knees hit the net, and pushed myself back. Then tried again.

“Well done, Kearney! Keep going!” Ronen called.

I tried again. And again. Growing in confidence that I could lean my weight back against the weight of the strap, but every time I did, my fingers slipped from it, or it simply wouldn’t budge.

“It’s too heavy!” I muttered.

‘Assess and overcome,’ Akhane said in my head. ‘Don’t give up, Bren.’

And so, I tried again. And again. My numb fingers slowly beginning to tingle and ache. But reaching for it as I was—all my weight on this side of the edge of the net—I couldn’t raise it high enough to throw my weight against it and step back.

I had to reach further down. But that would mean having no real counterbalance.

Shit.

I was panting. My legs shook. I had to get this done or my body would give out before my mind.

‘Akhane, be ready,’ I instructed her without thinking.

‘I watch for you, Bren. Always. ’

Then I leaned forward over the edge of the net so I could grasp it a foot or more below its base. I’d just gotten my hold on it, the rough side of the leather under my fingers, my thumb on its smooth side.

But the net shifted and my center of gravity suddenly tipped.

I screamed, scrambling for a life-saving grip as I pitched forward and my upper body dangled over the edge, leaving me gaping at Akhane’s rump and the raging sea far, far below.