Page 168 of Upon Buried Embers
“One thing,” he repeats, staring at me intently.
And after a pause, I nod. “One thing.”
He places a kiss on my forehead. “Wash up.”
Forty
Elf
I couldn’t tell Rohan about Darcia, and Kaldar hasn’t found out that she’s the one who hurt me.
Looking back, I wish I was brave enough to tell him in the tent. I think he would’ve believed me, helped me… so why am I still so scared?
Because you’re weak.
Because you’re always afraid.
“Sit.” Rohan pulls me from those thoughts as we take a seat around the makeshift sparring ring, and thankfully I see no sign of Darcia anywhere.
I look up at Rohan, and wonder if I can do it. If I just lean up and whisper—
“Dragonbond,” a man with a blue ribbon tied around the top of his arm, says, nodding his head to Rohan in respect, taking a seat on the other side of him. Though he leaves a large gap.
Two women are in the middle, green ribbon on one, white on the other, and there is a rope tied to one of each of their ankles, attaching them while they fight, and I eye it with confusion.
“It stops them from being too far away or the fight would last too long,” Rohan says.
“Fight? I thought it was just practice?”
“That’s what they like to call it, but we know it’s more serious than that. Honor is on the line with your clan if you get bested by another.”
His words are proven right as the taller woman swings a fist into the other’s cheekbone. She cries out, but she swings back and they end up on the ground, hitting and head-butting each other.
So violent.
“I won’t have to do that, will I?”
“No,” Tofa snorts, sitting at my other side. “You will meet Morana sooner than intended if you did.”
The Dragon Mother.
She’s who they go to in death, awaiting her judgment on whether they fly the skies with her, or stay in the lava pits. Elvanan works a little differently, but I think most Gods are the same.
Just like they work now.
Darcia comes over, and I lower my head, shoulders hunching.
“Dragonbond,” she nods respectfully.
“What?” Rohan barks at her.
“Do you need anything? I can help you bath—”
“No.”
“But I’m very good at helping.” I look up as she licks her lips and places her hand on Rohan’s. I want to throw up. “If you come to my tent, I can show you.”
“Darcia…” Rohan’s nostrils flare.
