Page 76 of Flameborne: Chosen (Emberquell Academy #1)

~ brEN ~

It was awkward as all hell, and I kept fighting tears. But Donavyn must have stayed to make certain I told them. Because even though he was out of earshot, he stood, watching, a warning in his eyes.

I was half-grateful for his concern, and half- raging that he thought he could force me to tell my brothers such a—

“Tell us, Bren.”

“We’ll listen.”

I went very still. But it hit me that even if I disobeyed the order—which I wasn’t prepared to do because I couldn’t risk any further trouble—they would just keep asking me until I told them.

And maybe this was the best time, since I’d already made a fool of myself earlier.

Maybe I should just get all of it out of the way at once, and then I could try to claw back respect in the aftermath.

My stomach churned. I kept needing to swallow.

“The General says I have to tell you what happened the day I was Chosen,” I mumbled, sending a dark glare past my brothers to where Donavyn stood, watching from the doorway.

I stammered, and halted, and messed up my words. But eventually I got the bare truth out.

Ran away from home.

Father rejected me.

No money.

Upset. Certain I was useless.

Ruin’s name wanted to come to my lips, but I shied away from telling them I’d been within the Reach grounds.

I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t see their concern for me do war with their respect for Ruin—I would lose.

I knew that. Besides. Donavyn didn’t know that part, so he couldn’t have been ordering me to tell them.

So, I skipped that and spoke as if the Dragonmaw Cliffs were the reason I’d walked up here.

I climbed, despairing. Hating myself. Seeing no future.

Then the Cliff’s gave and I tumbled towards the Dragon Fang Rocks.

My brothers stared, wide-eyed and utterly still. I swallowed hard. “Akhane saved me. And Chose me. She says it wasn’t because of that, but—”

“Of course, it wasn’t,” Ronen broke in gruffly.

I looked at him warily. Our eyes caught and something fierce blazed in his.

But then Gil spoke up. “I’m glad you didn’t.”

I blinked and turned.

Gil stared at the floor, his jaw rolling.

He kept glancing up—to me, to Ronen, to one of the others.

“My older brother killed himself when I was small. Losing him like that almost killed my parents. I was so young, to me it felt like I lost them too. I don’t think my brother would have done it if he understood how much we loved him.

So, I’m glad you’re here, Bren,” he said softly, his eyes somehow sad and angry.

I sucked in a breath. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring up—”

“I almost died when I was twelve,” Harle blurted, his voice shaky and darker than I’d ever heard him.

We all looked at him. He kept his eyes down and his hands in his pockets.

“It’s scary when you can see it coming.” He lifted his head enough to meet my eyes and I saw such compassion there—a shared pain—that it made my eyes sting.

“But being that afraid, it made me braver when I lived through it. And I think that’s the only reason I was strong enough to travel alone to meet the dragons when I was old enough.

I’m glad you’re here, too,” he said softly.

“Th-thank you.”

“And I think it’ll make you stronger in the long run.”

I nodded. We were all quiet for a moment. I felt the pinch of their admissions—I hadn’t wanted to bring them pain. But a strange thing was happening. When they spoke about these things, I felt like they became more. As if I’d only seen pieces of them before. And now they were clearer to me.

“Who told you that your dragon Chose you out of pity?” Oros spoke up suddenly.

I hesitated. He was so quiet and spoke to me so infrequently, I was taken aback. “No one,” I managed eventually. “I just assumed…?”

“Do you like it when people assume why you do things, as if they’re in your mind and they know?”

I frowned. “No.”

“Do you want us to believe you when you tell us why you did something?”

I blinked. “Yes. Of course. ”

Oros nodded but didn’t say anymore. I wanted to bristle, to defend myself—it was easy for them to say these things. But as I opened my mouth, Einar spoke.

“Do you think we’re just being kind, as well?” Einar asked, his chill gaze fixed on me.

I had to think about that one. My brothers were good men, but they weren’t always kind.

I shrugged. “I think you’re all good men, and you’d sacrifice your time for anyone you thought was your responsibility,” I said honestly.

“You think I’d let anyone ride on Sona with me? Do you think she’d accept just anyone on her back, even with me? Even out of pity?”

I thought of Akhane and shook my head. “No. But I’m not a threat—”

“Except to yourself,” Voski said grimly.

I frowned harder. “No. I’m not,” I said with a rush of conviction. “I learned something that day. I don’t want to die. I didn’t know what I wanted to live for, but I learned I wanted to live. And now I know it’s because I want to do this.” I took a deep breath.

“Then what’s the problem?”

I tried not to be impatient. “The problem is, I can’t do this alone. And I feel anxious about asking you to help me all the time. It seems unfair.”

Ronen pressed his lips thin. “We all needed help at the beginning, Bren. How do you think we got here?”

“Not like I have,” I pointed out.

Ronen shrugged. “Everyone’s different. But we all know how it feels to be the one with the least experience, who has to learn everything. That’s why we’re willing to help. Not because we pity you, but because we want you to succeed, just like our superiors did for us.”

It was a strange moment. I knew he was earnest. I knew they all cared. They’d proven that already. So why couldn’t I shake the feeling that they’d rather not have to deal with me?

As talk turned to my brothers and the different experiences they’d had as Flameborne, the challenges they’d faced, and the people who helped them, anguish crept up my spine.

I was torn between fierce gratitude that they cared and wanted to help, and the cloying sense that I was a child in their eyes.

I wanted nothing less. I wanted to be here with them and be a help. I wanted to be seen as one of them.

‘You already are, Bren. That’s why it hurts them when you insist their efforts are duty,’ Akhane offered.

That got me thinking.

As my brothers continued to share stories and gently tease, I chewed my lip. But before I could find any clarity, Ronen spoke up.

“It’s been a big day. And night,” he said, looking around the circle of us.

“We learned more about each other. Found new ways to show respect. And dealt with a genuine threat. I’d say, all in all, it’s been an important night.

Gather close, guys. This is a moment for togetherness and I think it’ll be helpful to talk to Bren about the things we discussed earlier. ”

Nerves jolted through me to hear they’d been talking about me when I wasn’t there, but when Gil pretended to roll his eyes, I wanted to giggle. I swallowed it back, then went still when all my brothers stepped close until we all stood in a circle, shoulder to shoulder.

Akhane stayed close to me, but edged away just far enough that none of them would touch her.

When we were all crowded together, a lump grew in my throat looking around at each of them. When I reached Ronen, he gave me a sad, half-smile.

I was oddly reassured.

But then he spoke to me and at his serious tone they all went quiet, listening.

“Bren, before anything happened here at the stables tonight, we had already made a plan to speak with you about the events earlier. We realized that our usual kind of joking and play might feel threatening for you. We made a pact that none of us would touch you again without your permission. And if we had a need to tease, we’d make sure it couldn’t be mistaken for anything else. ”

I swallowed. “It’s fine, I shouldn’t have—”

“Let me finish,” Ronen said gently. I swallowed my protest back.

He smiled. “You need to know for certain that our intention for you—and for each other—is always to protect and help. We were already going to speak to you about that, and vow our help. But events tonight made it clear even more is needed than reassurance. While we were handling Faren, we discussed the whole picture for you. The ways this life is different for you—and the ways it should be different for us as a result.”

I wasn’t sure I liked the sound of that. I wanted to be less noticeable. Not more.

But Ronen continued. “Tonight you had to face someone alone who was strong enough to overpower you. None of us are used to the idea that a single man could hold us against our will. If any one of us were in your shoes, we’d want more protection—”

“You don’t have to do that!” I rushed in. “I don’t want to make more work for you!”

Ronen gave me a look and I shut my mouth. “We didn’t say you’d asked for it. We said if we were in your position, we’d want help. And that means we all want to help you.”

My brothers were all nodding, looking thoughtful. I wanted to weep. They were so kind. But here I was, yet again, being a burden.

“From now on, every night we aren’t all on patrol, one of us will sleep in the stable with our dragon so we can hear if there’s any kind of disturbance.

If you need help, Akhane can call our dragon.

Or you can just scream.” It should have been a joke, but it wasn’t.

I had to turn my thoughts away from the memory of the ugly sneer on Faren’s face .

“That’s so thoughtful, but you’re all working so hard—”

“Every night, Bren.”

I was horrified. “I can’t ask you to do that!”

“You aren’t. We insist. None of us wants to walk in on the General having to beat a man senseless because he attacked you.

And, well, it’s clear that you aren’t entirely safe here.

It pains me to say that, but we’ve now had it proven to us more than once.

We might be slow learners, but we aren’t stupid. ”

“But—”

“If it was me, would you do it?” Harle asked.