Page 14 of The Last Dragon
I nod, watching her slip away to join the other commandants who are already talking about each Division.
I head for the nearest exit, but something red in the crowd stops me. Our eyes meet for a heartbeat—just Nida and me. I break away, quickening my pace, desperate to put distance between us.
When I was twelve, Nida was the only friend I had. The other kids mocked me for my small figure and being reserved around others. I never knew how to properly converse since I spent most of my time at the forge, working and learning blacksmithing with my father. After his death, Nida and her family looked after me while my mother spent long days and nights putting food on the table. Nida and I were close—spending every day together, vowing to stick by each other no matter the cost. We’d weave friendship bracelets out of hemp and bladed grass and linen, binding our promises with each knot. I couldn’t tell the difference between foxtail or rye or wheat until she taught me—patiently, endlessly—about every culm and every node, the sharpness or softness of each blade, from spikelet to root, top to bottom. The days seemed so bright back then. Just the two of us. But now the halls are dimmed and crowded, cadets and soldiers milling about, some heading to their posts, others lost in their class schedules.
The crowd should make it easier for me to vanish. But as I weave past their bodies, attempting to blend in, her strides still echo against the walls, her gaze burning into the back of my head.
Just leave me alone.
I turn the corner into a quiet, narrow hall, the torches flames flickering weakly.
“Zel,” she hisses.
Damn it. I couldn’t get away. I stand still, my back facing her, listening to the approaching footsteps. In an instant, she’s right in front of me.
“You’re avoiding me,” she says, crossing her arms, her eyes like burning amber. I don’t respond. I hope she’s going to drop it and leave it at that. She presses her lips together, narrowing her eyes at me.
“You know, after everything that happened in Pirlem, I somehow thought that you’d come back. But that’s before everyone kept telling me that you were dead. We looked everywhere for you.” She inhales a shaky breath. “So that we’d have a body to bury.”
I can’t tell if she’s about to cry or attempt to slit my throat. Regardless of what it is, I’ve never seen her this upset before.
“You shouldn’t be here,” I grunt.
She stiffens, eyes locked on mine—unblinking, unreadable. Like she knew what I’d say before I did. I try to move past her, but she catches me, stopping me cold. Why, out of all people, didshejoin The Corps?
“Why? You think I can’t cut it here?” she asks.
“I don’t think, Iknow.”
Her gaze sharpens. “You think I’m so weak?”
“You’ll die within minutes during a dragon attack.”
She lets out a scoff. “Are you seriously comparing fourteen-year-old me to who I am now?”
“If that tongue of yours is still the same,” I snap.
She steps closer, the heat from her words almost tangible. “Watchyourtongue,” she warns, voice low but fierce. “I’m not that scared little girl you think you remember.”
I raise an eyebrow, glancing at her. The cadet uniform clings to her, highlighting the hard lines of muscle beneath. She does seem stronger, but the mind is what can lead to one’s death. Not muscle.
“Why did you join?” I ask.
She looks taken aback by my question.“I had to.”
“Had to?”
“Yes, had to.” Her shoulders slightly lift, tensing up, like she’s hiding something.
I study her face. The subtle tension in her jaw flexes. She used to be easy to read, but now I can’t tell her emotions. At least notwhen looking at her face. The tone of her voice gives it away. There’s grief behind her words.
“You really expect me to think that ‘had to’ is the only reason you joined?” I say, a sneer tugging at my lips.
She lifts her chin, pressing her lips into a thin line. “Don’t pretend you know me,” she says, voice sharp as flint. “You think I joined for glory? For fun?” She scoffs, jaw tight. “I joined because no one else would fight for us. Because sitting back and waiting for people likeyouto do something got us nowhere.”
Like me? What is that supposed to mean? There’s fire in her eyes, but not enough to make me flinch.
I exhale slowly through my nose.. “We’ll see about that.”
