Of Blood And Fire by Ryan Cahill (best classic books of all time .txt) 📕

Arthur must have noticed the change in expression on his face. A laugh crept into his voice. “Come on, we’re setting off in a few. I will introduce you to the navigator.” He patted Calen on the back, directing him towards the rest of the group. “Calen Bryer, let me introduce you to Falmin Tain, navigator of the Crested Wave and member of the Wind Runners Guild.”

The navigator was a wiry man with black hair slicked back over his head. He wore a simple cotton shirt with the sleeves rolled up past his elbows and thick cotton trousers tucked into rugged leather boots. He had a strange set of glasses strapped around the top of his head; their lenses were dark, almost black, and they shimmered in an array of colours when the light hit them. A sheet of copper was melded into the frames, covered at the end with padded leather. It was held on his head with a strap of leather that had a buckle for tightening. They were strange indeed.

“‘Tis a pleasure, Mister Bryer,” Falmin said, shaking Calen’s hand. “And to you…” he said, turning his attention towards Valerys, who half-bared his teeth in a snarl. “S’long as you don’t take me arm off, you’ll be the first dragon to ever ride a Wind Runner. Good thing you’re small. They didn’t make ‘em with dragons in mind!”

The man had a sort of endearing arrogance about him that Calen couldn’t help but admire.

“If y’all will excuse me, I’m gonna make sure that this little lady here is good to go.” Falmin didn’t wait for any replies. He headed across a rope bridge connected from the landing to the platform of the Crested Wave.

“All set?” Therin asked.

Calen nodded wordlessly.

“Good. Dann didn’t mind being left alone then, I take it?” Therin gave a wry smile that implied he already knew the answer.

Calen sighed. “No, he understood. The elves, however… they are not particularly happy with me.”

Therin never showed the same contempt towards the Aravell elves that they showed towards him. Instead, there was a twinge of regret in his voice whenever he spoke of them. “They swore an oath of protection, Calen. I know we haven’t talked too much on elven culture yet, but honour… honour is everything to an elf. Without it, we have no trust. How can you trust someone without honour? It tells others who you are.”

Calen couldn’t help but let a trickle of indignation find his words. “That much I understood. Their honour was all they talked about. What is the point in taking an oath to protect me if they won’t even listen to me?”

Calen thought he saw disappointment in Therin’s eyes. The elf let out a sigh, resting his hand on Calen’s shoulder. “Calen, they swore an oath to protect you, not to obey you. Not only that, but they volunteered to swear that oath. They chose to abandon their home and everything they knew in the Aravell to follow you. They have shown their honour. Now you must show them yours.”

Calen found himself searching for something on the ground to trap his gaze. He felt like an idiot.

“Come,” Therin said. “The day we stop learning is the day we will be consumed by what we do not know. Do not dally. I have only journeyed on a Wind Runner once before. It is quite an experience.”

Therin gave Calen a little push, aiming him towards the rope bridge where Oleg waited for him. The others had already made their way across to the platform of the Crested Wave.

“And Calen,” Therin called, “the dwarves are stubborn. They are proud, and their tongues can be sharp, but they have always been loyal to the Draleid and to The Order. They are going to test you, but remember, it is not just you who has to prove yourself to them. They have to prove themselves to you. You are a Draleid now. Don’t forget that.”

Calen allowed himself a brief smile. I am a Draleid. He couldn’t help but look down at Valerys, who waited restlessly by his side.

He felt the dragon’s impatience scratching at him. It was his own impatience. Even when they were apart, Calen felt the dragon. His anger. His hunger. Everything. With each day, the bond between them grew stronger – It was getting increasingly difficult to separate his own emotions from Valerys’s.

“I will see you when I’m back, Therin. Thank you.”

The elf simply nodded, taking his leave of the landing.

“Master Bryer, if you are ready, we are about to set off.” Oleg stood at the edge of the landing, beside the rope bridge, a quirky smile on his face.

“Yes, of course. Sorry.” Calen stepped past Oleg and onto the rope bridge. He swallowed a shout and clutched onto the ropes for fear of his life as the bridge swayed unexpectedly under his weight. He snapped his head up to the air as he felt a mocking rumble from Valerys, who glided overhead, then swooped down onto the platform of the Crested Wave. Calen picked up his pace so as to not spend any longer on the bridge than he had to. “They can build a machine like this, but they can’t build a proper bridge?”

Calen looked up from his ranting to see everybody on the platform staring at him. Arthur smirked, while Falmin was outright laughing.

“Quite right, Mister Bryer,” the navigator cackled. “I do say it all the time. We often forget the little details, so we do.” Calen wasn’t sure if the man was mocking him. He didn’t think he was, but it was hard to tell. His tone seemed to always hold an undercurrent of sarcasm.

“If it helps at all,” Oleg panted, wiping the sweat from his brow as he leapt onto the platform, “I travel on these things more than I do horses, and I’m terrified every time. Both, of the Wind Runners and the bridges.” The emissary’s belly swelled out a bit farther as he