Page 23 of The Storm of the Empire

“Of course you can, this is your home.” My father interjected, offering me a smile before returning to his pot. The smell of his famous beet stew filled the room.

“And she can come home anytime she likes,” Mom told Dad before she eyed me. She was like iron to his honey. Fierce and fit, still in her warrior leathers. Not at all what anyone in other kingdoms expected a maternal figure to be. “But you are usually so busy at the palace, as your dad is always telling anyone who will listen. The Flyers would be nothing if they couldn’t learn from you.”

I sighed. “Thanks, but they could spare me for a few days.”

I didn’t want to get into this ‘Hazel is so wonderful at what she does,nonsense. It only made me feel like more of a failure. It was great that they were proud of me, but it wasn’t exactly confirmation of any success. They were kind of programmed to think I was amazing. In reality, I was the dud daughter of the Storm Kingdom’s most revered warrior.

If Mom hadn’t been injured and lost her ryder and the tip of her wing in the battle of Third, she would still be flying now. Dragons of her calibre never retired unless they were forced. And here I was, never having even gotten off the ground. A weapons teacher with no combat experience. Some scion I was!

But those injuries haven’t slowed Mom down at all. She’s in the training school every day. No kingdom boasts better warriors than our Archeiai, and since her injury brought her back home, mom has led them. I should feel some sense of accomplishment taking what I learned from her to train the next generation of the King’s Army, but I feel left in this holding pattern waiting for a ryder while everyone around me moves forward.

When I looked up at their supportive faces, though, I knew it didn’t matter to them. I could be a hunter or at least a guardian like my brothers. They wouldn’t care as long as I was happy.The problem was finding happiness when I knew so much potential was being wasted.

My brothers had no choice in their paths. Storm unions rarely produced dragons at all let alone male dragons. As the only daughter, I was the only dragon gene carrier. The boys were fae like dad. It was only me disappointing our legacy.

“Sparky?” My dad pulled me from my thoughts.

“Hmm?”

“Are you okay?” He put the spoon down and frowned.

“I’m fine.”

He shook his head. “No, come sit down and tell us what’s wrong. Celeste, bring her over to sit while I pour her a drink.” I followed my mother, powerless to stop the incoming questions fueled by Dad’s home-brew.

“It’s nothing. It’s just good to be home,” I said, smiling at last as I took a seat and waited for Dad to treat me to his latest creation. It would be some concoction from his crops, and I knew it would pack a punch too.

“If you think I don’t know my daughter,” he chided. Family was everything to them. which was lovely until I was trying to hide something.

“I’m not saying that, Dad.”

“So come on then. Out with your woes,” he said, handing me a cup.

“I don’t have any woes,” I assured them. At least no new ones. But he gave me a look, so I just said it. “I just had this—feeling—that I needed to be home.”

They exchanged a look. “What kind of feeling?” Mom asked.

“Can’t say exactly. I was worried something might have happened to one of you. Are the boys okay?”

“Those boys don’t know how to stay out of trouble, but they are fine,” Dad chuckled. I knew he was right. If there was a problem, they would know. The Storm Kingdom had the most advanced alert system of any kingdom.

We had to. With the weather the way it was, the need to raise an alarm was an almost daily occurrence. Lightning strikes, flooding, rough seas, they were all certainties in this kingdom, and fae had to be able to summon help quickly when needed. After all, few in the kingdom had the ability to launch and become one with the storm, and those that could were summoned away.

So if harm had come to any of my brothers, a call would go out, and word travels fast in the Storm.

“Well, I’m relieved it was a false alarm. I just need to convince my body to come out of panic mode. I dropped everything and flew straight over.”

“Did you rest at all?”

“I stopped on Damona Island for an hour or two,” I admitted.

“Good Goddess!” Mom exclaimed, putting her hand over mine. “You must be exhausted. You could have sent a raven.”

“I would have driven myself mad waiting for the return. I knew I could get here faster and see for myself.”

“It’s very strange indeed,” Mom mused, glancing again at Dad.

“What’s that look?”

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