Page 152 of Upon Buried Embers
I never knew how bad The Games were, and after hearing Rohan, I don’t want to be anywhere near it.
“Must I go? Is there no other way?” Rohan turns to me, and regret flashes in his eyes before it clears.
“My priority is always my dragons and my clan. We need to stop whoever is stealing eggs from The Glade, whoever is hurting our dragons. I made a vow to protect them, one I honor. One that givesmegreat honor. That is what Dragorie strives for.” I nod and stare up at him, and his eyes shutter for a moment. “I must doanythingI can to guarantee their safety, to neutralize any threats, even things I don’t like. Things I don’t want to. Understand?”
“I do,” I tell him. Because I would have loved to have someone as fierce as Rohan defend me like he does them, be my safety like he is to his people and dragons.
He cares for them so deeply, and my fear of being at The Games, at being anywhere near the city seems so silly with what rests on his shoulders. The lives he holds in his hands.
“You’re a good Dragonbond, Rohan,” I say softly, and surprise flares in his eyes at my words.
“That doesn’t make me a good man.”
Thirty Six
Elf
Frelia nudges Rohan, a gentle purr coming from her. I watch them from where I sit by the campfire, the night sky twinkling with too many stars to count. I tried to light it, but by the time I retrieved the flint and stone, Rohan had already gotten it burning.
Drogonah lies ahead, fast asleep, head on tail. He seems more relaxed than I would expect when another dragon is near, but he must trust Frelia.
“Go, now,” Rohan tells her, then he makes his way over, taking a seat across from me. “You’re smiling,” he says, and I reach up and touch my mouth.
“I am,” I reply softly, watching him over the flickering flames when he grabs his axe and starts to run something over the edge of it.
“Makes it sharp,” he says, not once looking up. “An axe is only as good as the care we give it.”
How bizarre. “What of a sword?” I ask, biting into a piece of bread.
He nods. “It’s the same for all manner of things. Sword, bucket, dragon.” His gaze flicks to Drogonah, and then to me. “People.”
“People? How so?”
He continues to sharpen the blade. “If I didn’t take care of my clan, they wouldn’t be willing to follow orders.”
“Fear does that also.”
“It does,” he agrees. “But that does not come with loyalty.”
I can see that.
I listen to the fire crackling and the sound of Rohan sharpening his axe as I eat my bread.
It’s calm here, warm and nice.
The dragons roar and rumble in the distance but I’m not that afraid of it.
“Will you tell me about your family?” I ask, after I’m done with my meal. At his furrowed brow I continue. “Your mother… will you tell me about her?”
He’s quiet for a moment, switching his attention to the other blade on his axe. “My mother died ten years ago,” he begins, eyes averted. “She was… a lot.” He huffs out a laugh at that. “But she was the strongest woman I know. She made sure to instill honor in me, to fight for what’s right, even if everyone else follows what is wrong.”
“She sounds wonderful.”
“She was,” he says softly. “But cross her and you would know about it. Everyone in the clan sure did, and others.”
“You grew up in the clan you’re in now?” He nods. “What about your father? Do you have any siblings?” I ask, eager to know more.
He pauses at that. “The only family I have is my clan. Kaldar, I’ve known for a long time, he’s as close to me as a brother. The same with Calian. Dorkin came after. He didn’t like the city much, so he’s been with us for around seven years. Adora, well,she’s a fierce warrior, she’s hard to ignore. Asseya has been like a grandmother since I saved her.”
