Page 14 of A City of Flames

A witless dragon more like. “How have venators not caught him yet?”

“Well... because there are rumors,” she says, biting her bottom lip nervously. “Of someone creating creatures which are killing mortals and by that someone I mean the Golden Thief.”

My forehead crumples, thinking back to Miss Kiligra’s rumors. “I’ve been told the leaders of Aeris could be the ones doing that?”

“That’s what everyone thinks because Aeris leaders and Aerians, in general, are known to be reckless but take it from someone who’s been eavesdropping when higher class venators hold meetings.” Her face turns grave, preparing herself to elaborate. “The Golden Thief is a powerful shifter... and shifters happen to hate venators. It’s likely a rebellion on his part, and from what I’ve gathered, he doesn’t have any weaknesses that can make it easier to catch him.”

My confidence dwindles. “But everyone has a weakness.”

She shrugs. “That’s what many assume, except shifters are a lot harder to catch than a full-fledged dragon. Steel powder doesn’t seem to work on the Golden Thief, and neither do ordinary traps...” Her words trail off into thoughtful silence.

I glance back at the poster—at the word wanted emblazoned on top—and wonder if I’m way in over my head to think of considering Ivarron’s proposition. Perhaps part of me craved the idea of trapping since it’s all I’ve ever known.

“We should head back.” Freya exhales. “I’d hate to get you in trouble for arriving late on your first day of training tomorrow.”

Looking at her and the innocent smile shaping her lips, I nod.

Tomorrow... tomorrow will be the start of what I’ve wanted for years.

* * *

I’m up before dawn, restless from not finding the bed to my liking. It’s not that it wasn’t comfortable. The lavish quilts were practically idealistic to melt into. But I’d missed my bed... my home.

Sighing at the edge of the trunk where I’ve placed my belongings, I marvel at the sleeveless skintight leather armor that clings onto the thickness of my thighs in a midnight black shade. Scales like overlapping snakes travel from under my breasts towards my neck, where the venator crest of a dragon lies. When I arrived back last night with Freya, everything I needed as a trainee was carefully laid out on my bed. The surprise on my face was endless when I’d figured how fitting the training clothes were and rather flattering too.

“Nara, Nara, Nara!” Freya walks toward me in the same attire as me, showing her slim figure. Her black curls are pinned into a half updo with a purple satin ribbon tied around. “Are you ready?”

I nod, finishing braiding my long tresses before she grabs my hand, a habit of hers that I’ve already encountered since my arrival.

She takes me through the same crimson hallways, down to the ground floor where open double marble doors lead to a mess hall. Chatter echoes through each corner of the grand room, and mahogany tables are full of venators and trainees sitting down for breakfast. While sworn venators have different armory with their intricate flame designs, trainees appear dressed in the same garment as me.

My eyes then slide to a stone wall on my left with markings, which I can only gather are names. I try not to let thoughts about what that means cave in my chest as we go grab servings of oats and bread.

No one speaks to us nor looks in our direction as we drop on the benches, eating away. At the same time, Freya explains her glee over porridge and curiously stares at the way I rush down every last bit of food in my bowl.

Once she finishes, everyone else seems to rush towards another room located past the mess hall. Sheer gold curtains made of gossamer hang by the large glass windowpanes and weapon racks, full of bows, spears, swords, and more are mounted on the emerald walls.

Like a lost fawn, I follow Freya as everyone grabs their weapons. She picks out a quiver, slinging it over her shoulder as well as a bow. I assume this is her usual choice to fight with. On my part, I don’t pick out anything. I’m not sure what to, considering there are many I want to choose. Instead, we stride towards the doorless archway at the end of the room that goes out into acres of fields across Aurum castle. Trainees are already lined up as the heat of the sun radiates outwards into the bright day. Taking in everything, I notice training dummies, targets for archery, and throwing knives before Freya pinches the side of me to get in formation with the rest.

I frown, although her gaze focuses in front. I follow it to see a partially bald man, older than most of us, perhaps middle-aged, pacing back and forth slowly while Lorcan and other venators stay still behind him. The man’s hands are behind his back as he scowls at each and every one of us. He has the same red band as Lorcan’s and others I’d seen at the front gates. But the one distinct thing is his red cape flowing behind him with each step he takes, complementing the richness of his dark skin.

“As you all know,” he begins as the sun bounces off his armor plates. “With the trial approaching this summer, you are expected to be at the level we think is acceptable—”

“Is that the general?” I lean into Freya. His rasping voice continues on in the background, like all he’s ever done in his life is shout.

Freya’s eyes widen though it disappears relatively fast as she bites her lip. “Yes, um, general Erion.”

That’s a rather strange reaction. One I’d question her on except the air fills with sudden apprehension, and I snap my head forward to see general Erion standing right in front of us.

Oh.

I stand eye level with him as he stares at me for a few scrutinizing moments before saying, “So, you’re Nathaniel’s daughter.” The lines on his forehead protrude. I can’t tell whether he’s glad I’m the daughter or not. “My deputy tells me you helped capture an Ardenti.” A quick glance over his shoulder to Lorcan.

“Yes, sir.” I hold affirmative in my tone.

He lifts his chin, and the sharpness of his features doesn’t go unnoticed as he chuckles bitterly. “Let’s see if you can last as long as he did.”

So, it is not a good thing for him.

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