Page 22 of The Last Dragon
“Oh, please.” Nida chuckles. “He used to be afraid of dipping his toes in the pond. I had to pull him out when he slipped. It was, like, ankle-deep.”
“Oooh, I like this!” Eryca laughs.
“That’s enough,” I say, pressing a tankard to my lips. But my words don’t reach them.
“Hey, Nida,” Raumen calls out, leaning forward, “I doubt you know what he did during his first year.” A smirk spreads wide on his face.
“Raumen…” I manage, but whenever he gets going, it’s nearly impossible to make him stop. And quite frankly, I don’t have the energy for it.
“Do tell!” Nida exclaims, resting her elbows on the table and chin on her hands.
Raumen rubs his hands together, and I can feel irritation boiling on my face. This isn’t the time for this. I should control this. Stoic.Stoic.
He nudges Ilian. “Hey, remember when Zel loaded his crossbow and the bolt snapped because he put too much pressure on it?”
Ilian barks a laugh, nearly choking on his food. Then he swallows before he speaks. “He was so mad he broke another one!”
Everyone howls in laughter, and I feel like sinking into my bench.
“Yes. Funny.Hilarious,” I drawl sarcastically.” I was afirst-year.”
“Interesting how you remember that but forgot to mention you have a new tracker,” Ilian says, pointing at me and Nida with his fork, his face completely blank.
Raumen wipes a tear forming in his eye. “Oh! Did you know he’s afraid of hei—”
“Can we just not?” I interrupt, slamming the tankard hard enough to leave a mark on the wooden table. I knit my eyebrows together, hoping it’ll clear the increasing tension between my eyes.
“That’s what you get for not telling us anything,” Ilian comments, shoving a piece of bread in his mouth. “A unit needs to stick together.”
“He wasn’t as broody and legendary as people think.” Raumen grins. “He used to be funny.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Nida replies with a smile.
The table falls silent. All eyes settle on me as I finish the last sip from my tankard. Then Raumen’s cheeks puff out, reddening like a squirrel about to burst.
“But I guess even a legend can have his less glorious days.”
Everyone laughs.
“Is this really necessary?” I say, irritated.
Raumen leans in, eyes locked with Nida. “Welcome to Unit Seventeen, Nida.” A soft smile appears on her face.
“You’d better get her geared up,” Ilian says, taking a sip of water from his tankard.
Right. I have to make sure she has proper equipment now that she’s my tracker. I sigh at the thought.My Tracker.
There are no windows in the armory, only towering shelves of stone stacked with blades, bows, and battered gear. At night, it’s the darkest place in the entire Hold. The only light comes from the moon, filtered through the high glass ceiling. The armory is close to lieutenant quarters—a place built for sparring, testing, choosing. Every Tracker selects their own weapons here, with their Hunter’s supervision. Today, it’s Nida’s turn. I need to know what she has so that I can adapt my way of fighting based on her tools. Defensive, or offensive.
She runs a finger over the compass in her palm, tracing the engraved Tracker emblem etched into the metal. Her face gives nothing away, but I know what this means.
“They’re not necessary unless you’re planning to scout,” I say, grabbing a couple of daggers from the shelves, replacing the ones that are dull.
“We won’t be going out?” Her voice is tinged with unease, her eyes widening.
I slowly shake my head. “Since there’s only one left, not many Scouts are sent out.” I reach for a round glass vial and hand it to her. “Not many expeditions either.”
“What’s this?” She scrunches her nose, the light from the torches illuminating her expression.
