Page 53 of Flameborne: Chosen
“Furyknights, I introduce you to Akhane’sChosen, Brennan Kearney!”
The roar went up again, but this time from what seemed like a thousand male voices, all hollering and shouting and stamping their feet.
I was surprised by the response since the men yesterday had seemed so wary of me. But here, at least, they clapped and stamped and called my name.
“As a true Chosen, the Brennan Kearney of the past is no more. She stands before us now as Flameborne—a new creation, molded by the bond and borne by the fire of trial. The past is discarded. The future is before her—and you. Flameborne Kearney has been acknowledged by theDragons and named,Little Flame.Your leaders are in Accord—she isChosen.Made new in bond with a dragonfury, and so beginning life here among us in the Dragon Keep.”
There was a murmur among the gathered men at that and no more cheering, but they didn’t turn away.
“Today we stand toAcknowledge,awaiting her efforts to earn her pin. You have walked this path. You have met these trials. Our new Pair will need your brotherhood—your strength, your resilience, your patience—to succeed in this endeavor. I beg you, brothers, welcome ourfirstsister, Flameborne Kearney!”
The roar went up again, though it faded quickly this time. A tingle of nerves coursed through me as the Commander turned to face me and spoke, still projecting his voice, though no longer shouting.
“Kearney, the Creator has seen fit to bring you among us, and so we will embrace you.” I wasn’t sure if the words were part of a formal tradition, or spoken specifically to me. But there was no time to figure it out because next he turned to face the men again and beckoned.
“Seventh Squadron, Attend!”
I startled again as the crowd cheered, and several men suddenly ran from the front, towards us, followed by dragons of every color. I backed away as the men drew closer, but the Commander put a hand to my back and muttered from the side of his mouth,“Don’t show your fear. It won’t go well for you.”
That seemed ominous, but I stopped trying to back away and just prayed the men and dragons would stop before they trampled me. Which, of course, they did.
The men lined up in front of us, standing to attention with their feet shoulder width apart, and hands behind their backs, chins high.
“Seventh Squadron!” the Commander barked. “Your new sister waits to receive her introductions.”
“Sir!Yes, Sir!” they shouted in return.
Then the one closest to the Commander stepped forward.
They all wore the pins he’d mentioned, little shining sigils on their chests that I had forgotten about. But this wasn’t the first time I’d seen one. Ruin had shown me his when he was first raised, andso proud.
Each man who was raised to Furyknight wore a pin the same shape and setting—a stylized dragon’s head set between a pair of high, arching wings, with flames rising between them—with different colors of enamel, depending on the Wing they were assigned to.
Except for the leaders.
The Commander’s pin was the same shape as the others, but instead of the enamel colors, his was made entirely of etched bronze.
The man who stepped forward must have been this group’s leader, because his pin had the bronze setting like Ruin’s and all the others, but the heart of the flames in his setting were the same, etched bronze as the Commander’s.
Handsome, tall, and clearly strong, the man stepped out of line towards me and shouted. “Kearney, I see you! I am Ronen, your Wing Captain. Your brothers eagerly await you. Welcome to Seventh Squadron!”
He’d barely stepped back when the next man in line, who was larger and more rugged, stepped up.
“Kearney, I see you! I am Gil, your Wing Lieutenant. I welcome you as a brother!”
He hadn’t taken a breath or settled back in place before the next stepped forward, then the next, one after the other, each of them at attention, looking past the Commander and I, and almost shouting their words—because the crowd behind them was still cheering.
“I am Einar, your brother. Welcome to Seventh Squadron!” He was lithe, but very tall, and his hair was shockingly white.
“I am Harle, your brother. Welcome to Seventh Squadron!” That one made fleeting eye-contact with me and winked as he stepped back into line.
I almost stumbled back when the next man heaved forward. He was possibly the biggest man I’d ever seen. His neck thick and his body quivering with muscle like the neighbor’s breeding bull. “I am Oros, your brother. Welcome to Seventh Squadron!”
“I am Voski, your brother. Welcome to Seventh Squadron!” His hair was as jet-black as the earlier man’s had been stark white, and his eyes glowed with aggression.
“I am Jhoare, your brother. Welcome to Seventh Squadron!” Perhaps the sunniest of the lot, instead of just stepping back into line, he dropped an elegant bow, then looked up at me and smiled before returning to his place in line. A couple of the others groaned, but no one spoke.
The Commander smiled as he opened his arm. “Introduce yourself, Kearney.”
