Page 3 of The Last Dragon
“And look where it got us,” he snaps, his piercing gaze finally meeting mine. “You joined the Corps, and two years later—one dragon left. We got here today because of you. Becauseyouwerein a unit. You fought with the rest of them. Led an army that was composed of cowards and nearly gave humanity their freedom.” His voice lowers. “I need you out there.” He adjusts himself back to the stoic composure he wears so well. “Leading expeditions, turning weaklings into soldiers. You inspire them.”
“I can’t,” I say.
A flicker of disappointment glimmers in his eyes, but he quickly blinks it away, returning to the man I know as The General. He tugs on his gray beard, his eyes narrowing. He’s broad-shouldered—a man who moves with controlled strength. His weathered face is framed by a thick gray beard, streaked with silver that hints at years of hard experience. And here I am, trying to fight back, thinking I can somehow convince him otherwise.
I bite the inside of my cheek, the metallic taste floods my senses. I tear my eyes from the general, facing the crowd of grieving soldiers. A familiar face peeks out, her dark complexion contrasting with those around her. The moment she sees me, she moves, tapping the shoulders of cadets to make way, her blue greatcoat following her every motion. She barely needs to push forward. As she approaches, her dark eyes dart toward the general.
“General Grogol,” she says, dipping her head.
“Lieutenant Wain,” the general acknowledges.
Wain’s eyes return to mine, her back straight—almost elegant. “It’s good to see you, Kazelius. I assume you’re well prepared for Division Day after your rest?” Wain’s eyes slowly trace back to the general, as if looking for permission to speak further.
I respond with a nod, straightening up. “As much as I can be.”
The general studies me for a moment and smiles softly. He taps my shoulder and nods toward Wain.
“It’s a shame you weren’t in this expedition, Kazelius,” Wain continues. “We could have used your… expertise in thismatter. Perhaps our losses wouldn’t have been this severe.” Wain brushes a dark curl from her face, her fingers seamlessly blending in with it.
The general raises his brows with a smirk.
“I assure you, it wouldn’t have made a difference. Everyone there did the best they could,” I respond, flicking my eyes between the crowd and Wain.
She offers a soft smile. “I believe otherwise. You are, after all, my finest pupil.”
“Well, I have General Grogol to thank. Unlike most soldiers, I got a four-year head start in my training beforemyDivision Day. I’m sure anyone with that opportunity would be equally as strong, if not stronger.”
I tense as General Grogol’s hand lands on my shoulder. “Yet your will and discipline are what got you this far. If one does not have that, then there is no way of becoming a soldier,” he says.
I slowly breathe in, letting my focus drift to Lieutenant Wain. “If you don’t mind, Lieutenant, were you part of this expedition?”
She shakes her head. “No, but Lieutenant Abern acted as Field Officer. It’s a miracle he survived.”
“Minor bruises. Commandant Sayna will take good care of him,” the general adds.
“Let’s hope that in the next expedition, Kazelius will be the one to lead.” Wain offers a gentle smile to both of us.
“Depends on several factors, however, that is not what I intend to do any time soon.”Or ever for that matter.
“In due time,” the general says.
Two cadets start arguing near the banner, throwing insults at each other. Wain excuses herself and pushes herself through the crowd, attempting to stop the altercation. I take a deep breath, holding it for a moment before exhaling as Grogol’s hand slips from my shoulder.
“Once again, your results from two years ago speak for themselves,” says Grogol.
“Two years ago, things were different,” I say calmly.
“Yet soldiers still see you as an inspiration and a reminder. A perfect asset to a unit.”
“Putting me in a unit defeats the purpose of plastering my face across Karalia and calling me ‘the face of the Corps’. A force of one.” I scoff silently.
“It’s an honor to join the Corps,” he snaps, his shoulders slightly tense. “That’swhat makes men and women join.”
“Yet everyone from the Middle and the Center keeps calling me that.”
“I don’t need you to be the face of the Corps right now. I need youalive. And one way for me to keep you alive is if you’re in a unit—notalone.” He pauses as a group passes close by, as if not wanting anyone to hear of our conversation.
“Look around you,” he begins, his voice calm. “What do you see?”
