“Yeah, but it’s not fair.”
“What about this world has ever struck you as fair?” Rynna snorted.
He frowned, his expression unusually serious for a moment. “It shouldn’t be this way.”
“Who’s going to change it? You?” She gave him a sidelong glance.
Was this why she was here? To nudge and encourage the wild little gremlin?
“Just watch me!” He pumped one fist in the air as his other hand drifted to the Ember Reach medallion tied proudly around his neck. It was the same one he’d somehow earned the week before, despite pissing off nearly every Guide in the program.
“I can’t wait to see it,” she huffed a small laugh, though a hint of something—despair, maybe—slipped into her voice without her meaning to.
No matter how hard she tried to focus on her Mission here, she never felt fully grounded, like something was missing. A gnawing feeling between her ribs. Another memory she couldn’t quite grasp.
Bran’s face shifted, his exuberance cooling as he studied her. “Are all older people this grumpy? Is it an age thing? You’re not decrepit yet, but you’re not too far off.” He squinted at her, leaning in dramatically. “Wait. Is that a wrinkle?”
It had surprised her when the Elders of Ember Reach shoved her into the preparatory training program with a cluster of wide-eyed kids, after she’d wandered into a border town able to see the Source with no memory of her origins. She knew she didn’tlookeighteen, especially if anyone studied closely, but it was the oldest age they accepted for new recruits, and one didn’t waste resources, not on this world.
Either way, even if it was laughable, it was her place now. She should try to act the part.
“A wrinkle?” Fighting to keep the smile off her face, she watched as his cheeks tensed and he struggled to hold in laughter. “Well, do all fifteen-year-olds look like they’re constantly about to shit themselves, or is that just a Bran thing?”
For a moment, they stood locked in silence, shoulders shaking, struggling against the laughter bubbling up in their chests. Then Bran coughed—just once—and the dam broke. Rynna’s laugh tumbled out to meet his, and together they stumbled forward, doubled over.
As they gulped at the air, grinning, Bran wheezed, “Why are you so nice to me anyway? Everyone else around here is...well...”
She shrugged, collecting herself. “We’re both freaks. The village clown…and the girl nobody knows what to do with. Why else would they throw me into training with a bunch of younglings barely able to make an elemental breeze? No offense.”
“But everyone loves you, Rynna.” Bran puffed out his chest, but his brow furrowed in confusion. “You never cause trouble, and you already know all the techniques. The guides had you running half the classes before the assessment trials.”
“I dunno.” She glanced at the ground, kicking a stray rock. “I guess I’m just lonely. I like you guys; you’re good kids, but I don’t really belong anywhere yet. And I don’t know what the heck I’m supposed to be doing here.”
“I get that.” He swallowed hard, then brightened. “But tomorrow, we get our units! We’ll both have a place then! They’ll have to accept us!”
“You’re probably right.” She reached out and tousled his spiky red hair. “I guess, you’re not entirely hopeless for wee yougling.”
He swiped at her hand. “You’re not that much older!”
“I thought I was practically a wrinkly old lady, according to you!”
“Whatever, crone,” Bran shot back as he turned toward the small lodging hall that housed his narrow chambers. It amazed her that he was already living on his own, fending for himself.
“See you tomorrow,” she called after him. “I know you’ll be dreaming about getting into Elara’s unit.”
“Yeah, right!” he yelled, a blush creeping up the back of his neck before disappearing around the corner.
“Sure,” Rynna laughed quietly to herself, the sound barely carrying in the dry air. All the boys had crushes on Elara, and the girl barely noticed.
Sighing, she glanced up at the cliffs, where the rough outline of a great fire-born bird seemed to rise from the stone itself. Her sharp, pointed nose caught the faint breeze as her dark blue eyes narrowed in thought. No one in the Reach remembered how the carving had come to be, only that it had always been there.
It was another mystery she probably wouldn’t solve.
“Just what the heck am I supposed to be doing here anyway?” she asked the mythical bird.
It loomed over the territory, wings spread wide as if ready to fly at any moment from the white-hued crags. Below it, Ember Reach’s central settlement sprawled out in a maze of sun-bleached stone buildings and wooden shacks, the streets winding like rivers through the parched earth.
Maybe Bran’s right, she thought, though without much conviction.Maybe tomorrow will show me my path here.
