Page 9 of A City of Flames

“How do you know you’ll even become one, Nara?” He snaps. “Just because you got lucky with one dragon today doesn’t mean you’ll be fortunate to succeed as a venator.”

“Unlike you, I believe in myself,” I say, lowering my brows and holding back the coldness in my voice. Still, it fails as I continue, “Father would have believed in me, mother too, why is it my own brother won’t do so much as humor me in this? Why is it my brother chooses to give up on me when all I want is this? You may think you could have saved Father all those years ago, and now you fear the same could happen to me, to Illias, Iker, but the difference is you can’t change the past, and at least I believe in you for everything. Where is that for me?”

Once more, the cottage falls into quietude. A flicker of hurt shines in Idris’s eyes, one where I know I’ve made it worse.

He slowly rises from the chair, not uttering a word, and, with silent footsteps, walks to the room he shares alongside Iker and Illias. The wood creaks as he shuts the door, leaving me there with nothing but disappointment and sorrow—sorrow because this is all it’s ever been.

I stand, turning to look at both my brothers. I watch Iker take a long sip out of his cup, then Illias picking at his fingernails.

“I’ll...” He starts softly. “I’ll talk to him—”

“No.” I shake my head. “Why bother, Illias? It’s the same thing all the time. I only wish that for once he would act like our brother instead of fathering us.” My bottom lip wobbles, and as Illias takes a step to comfort me, I push past him towards my room and lock it. I hold back every tear that wants to come out, that threatens to slide down each time Idris and I argue.

I tip my head back, closing my eyes, and inhale deeply as I walk over to my wooden chest of drawers. Stars, the sun, and the moon shape the sides while swirls of wood I’d carved fills the other, but the top part has not been touched. Taking out one of my other hunting knives, I begin carving, wanting to forget what happened today. Yet, my hands are unable to as the blade shapes the dragon’s wings, the scales, and long swaying tail until nightfall comes.

Until no more ounce of wood is left to carve.

Until the sun borders the horizon and dawn awakens.

* * *

I’d left home as soon as birds sang through trees, and the sky was a coating of blue and gold. Illias and Iker decided to accompany me to the market square so I could see the venators leave. We knew fellow villagers would wave their goodbyes and thank you’s over yesterday’s attack.

Somehow when I unlocked my bedroom door, Idris was nowhere to be seen. Illias mentioned he had errands to run; I shrugged and took no notice. It was better that way. I didn’t want any more tension between us. We already have enough of that at least twice a week.

“Did you really need to bring your pet with us?” I question Iker beside me, grimacing as the rabbit squirms in his arms. Crowds of people surround the area; some give us harsh looks as others trample over broken carts still needing to be cleared.

I glare at everyone else, but Iker doesn’t seem to take notice of them. “Dimpy is part of the family now trapper,” he says, grinning all high and mighty. “Deal with it.”

I suppress an eye roll before my eyes catch Idris squeezing past flocks of women in kirtle dresses cheering on venators. One hand behind his back as he nears me, but the frustration icing my veins from yesterday makes me snap my head to the front, opting to give him the silent treatment. I purse my lips in a mood, watching Lorcan shake hands of fellow villagers far ahead.

“Tell me,” Idris says from behind. Without looking, I know he’s smiling—which is quite odd for him. “Should I call my sister a venator before the final test, or is it safe to say it already?”

I glance at him with a quizzical frown. Have I truly not slept and I’m now hallucinating?

His smile fades as he breathes out, “I think you should join them.”

The sincerity in that one sentence makes me blink, either fast, slow, or only once. I’m not sure, but it is something I did not expect to hear. “Are you—”

“I know I’m not father.” His gaze becomes unfocused as he looks down. He’d heard me yesterday. “And I know you’re old enough to make your own decisions.” He exhales, dragging his eyes to me again. “But I guess I just saw you as the same little sister who would pester me to read her stories growing up and rebel against anything she didn’t like.”

My heart takes in every word, and my face eases into a warm smile at all the memories we’ve shared, good, bad, even the worst once we lost our parents.

“You’d make a great venator, Nara. Even if it doesn’t seem it at times, I’ve always thought it.”

Never in my life would I think to hear those words be spoken by Idris, and while I keep my smile on my face, it dims when I remember what issue we constantly face. “What about Ivarron—”

He shakes his head, his shoulder-length hair moving along with it, effectively cutting me off. “I made a new deal with him. That’s why I wasn’t there when you all left for the market square. He still needs a trapper, and I promised I would fill in for you.”

My eyes go round in worry at this new ‘deal’ while guilt aches in my chest over anger getting the best of me when he’d gone and done this for my sake. But the roles have reversed, and now I understand Idris’s concerns when it comes to trapping. “But Idris—”

“I think I know how to trap a few goblins or Faeries here and there.” He puffs a laugh, jerking his chin towards the side of him. “Illias will help me.”

“Great, I can never get out of these things, can I?” Illias asks miserably, dewy purple paint smears half of his cheek as we all chuckle.

Idris then withdraws one hand from behind him and extends a brown satchel towards me. “I know they’ll provide everything there for you, but I thought you’d want stuff from home.”

I peek inside the leather interior as he mumbles. He’d put in all the necessities I’d need, including my carving tools and two white tunics. Looking up, he scratches the nape of his neck with a wince as if not sure what my reaction might be. But the slow smile spreading across my lips is all he needs to know as I rise on my toes and throw my arms around him. He stumbles back from my brute strength before reciprocating the hug—something we hadn’t done together in years.

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