It’s no surprise that a meeting has been called following the death of my father. The council is responsible for the wellness of the village, and everyone’s safety within it.

My father never liked the meetings, or the council. But he always attended when called upon. It was part of his duty, he said. There were a lot of responsibilities as Dragon Master that he did not enjoy. But he did them anyway, as any honorable man would.

“I know it’s sudden,” Uncle Ivan says with a frown. “You’ve hardly had time to process all of this. I have yet to even see what became of my brother. The moment I heard news of his death, I came to find you. I’m so sorry that I wasn’t able to come sooner…”

“It’s all right,” I say, because it seems like the right thing to say.

Uncle Ivan regards me, perhaps picking up on my tone. “I’m sure the elders would understand if you chose not to attend,” he says. “I’ll speak on your behalf.”

The offer bristles me. “I don’t need to be spoken for,” I say, trying to smooth the edges of my words and to sound more present. “I can speak for myself, Uncle.”

He acknowledges me with an unexpected blink and bows his head. “My apologies, my dear. It was only my intention to make things easier for you.”

After today, nothing will make this easier for me.

But I can tell my uncle is coming from a place of compassion, so I soften my prickly voice with a deep, tired sigh. “Yes. I’m still trying to process my father’s death. It doesn’t feel real. I’m trying to…understand. But at the same time, it is my responsibility. I would be disrespecting his legacy if I did not attend.”

“His…legacy?” my uncle asks, a rise in his brow.

“Now that my father is…dead”—the word stings in my throat, painful and sharp like a splinter—“I am to resume his place as Dragon Master as planned. It’s what he always wanted me to do.”

“Yes, of course,” Uncle Ivan says with a slight hesitation. “But there’s no need to get ahead of ourselves just yet. Let’s take things one at a time… In fact, perhaps it would be better to wait until—”

“I’ll be fine, Uncle,” I cut him off. My words are still blades, but dull ones now.

Uncle Ivan nods. “Very well,” he says. “Since you wish to attend, the meeting will begin in the nearest hour. Do not be late.”

I mark the time in my mind and turn my gaze back to the training pen. The ground is padded in old straw, and there is no dragon to be seen within.

“Where’s the Venari Solis?”

I turn back to Darian and Uncle Ivan, who are exchanging uncomfortable glances between one another.

“What?” I ask. “I’d like to see the dragon. He will need a thorough retraining.”

And I want to understand what happened today. If I can’t ask my father, the next best is Solie… What could’ve made him do this?

Uncle Ivan seems reluctant to speak. After much effort, he clears his throat and says, “I’m afraid that won’t be possible, Arla.”

I shake my head, confused. “What do you mean? Of course it’s possible. There is not a dragon who can’t be trained with time and patience. And anyway, it’s my responsibility to—”

“It’s not about you,” Ivan says. “It isn’t because you’re Dragon Master. The Venari Solis had to be killed. It was a decision that had to be made quickly.”

Silence builds like a wall between us. My heart ticks like a drum in my ear as I look between the two men, waiting for an explanation. “B-but dragons who turn on their masters require retraining. They’re too valuable to simply kill. A-and one as rare as a Solis…”

“The Solis was simply too far gone, Arla. It was past the point of retraining. For god’s sake, it sent dozens of rangers to the infirmary. It killed your father. There was just no other way with a creature like that.”

Hot needles press against my cheeks. I ball my fists at my side and ask, “And who made that decision? That is the right of the Dragon Master and only the Dragon Master to decide!”

Uncle Ivan lowers his gaze with a deep sigh. His voice softens, as if speaking to a child. “The council acted in the best interest of all parties. In the best interest of the village, my dear. You may ask further questions at the meeting. In the meantime, if you decide not to go—”

Heat splinters between my ribs. “I’m going,” I say firmly.

Despite my rage, Uncle Ivan draws me into his arms and squeezes me in an embrace. Part of me wants to lash out at him. How dare he and the rest of the council just decide to kill a dragon like this? They’re not disposable. Just trying to replace Solie will take years.

The rest of me wants to grasp onto whatever bit of my father I can still see within him. He was looking out for all of our well-being. It’s what Papa would’ve done too, as difficult a decision as it might be…

“As you wish,” he says, drawing away. He acknowledges the bandage on Darian’s shoulder as he turns to leave. “I do wish you a speedy recovery, Darian.”

Darian nods respectfully to his elder, and with one last glance, Uncle Ivan stalks off, his long, gaudy robe floating behind him.

With Ivan gone, I turn my aim to Darian. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Arla, I—”

“You knew, and you didn’t tell me.”

“I was trying to,” Darian admits. “I just didn’t know how to go about it.”

“Saying something might’ve helped,” I say. “Stop trying to protect me. You’re not doing me any good!”

Darian winces, bludgeoned by the fire in my voice. I’ve always been quick to anger, but not like this. And yet, I cannot bring myself to care. My life has gone to hell in a matter of minutes. I will aim my pointy words at whoever I damn well please.

Still, it doesn’t feel right watching Darian pedal back. Watching him fold in two under the weight of my wrath.

“You’re right,” he says softly. “I know you can care for yourself. I just want to help you through this. I’m sorry I don’t know how to…”

Something in my heart softens. Darian didn’t do this to you, I remind myself. Remember who he is.

With a deep sigh, I exhale the flames from my chest and begin to soften. “I know, I’m sorry. I understand, I just—” I hesitate, feeling the crushing urge to cry again. I won’t allow myself. Can’t allow myself. “Just know I’m hurting right now. It all feels like a nightmare. Like I’m just waiting for the moment I wake up. And I don’t know what I’ll do when the time comes that I realize there is no waking up from this.” My shoulders sink, everything suddenly going so heavy. “I did not mean to take it out on you.”

Once more, I feel Darian’s strong arms wrap around me. He pulls me into a warm embrace, and I return the hug this time, laying my cheek on his shoulder for just a moment. Just a breath. Then I pull free before it becomes too comfortable.

“I have to get ready for the council meeting,” I tell him, gesturing to my bloodied, dirtied clothes. “The new Dragon Master mustn’t present herself looking…well, a mess.”

“I should return home as well,” Darian says. “Take care, Arla. Fetch me if you need anything. Anything at all.”

With that, we part ways.

I don’t go home, though. I can’t bring myself to do it—not with the empty rooms and the ghost of my father. Instead, I fetch a clean pair of working clothes from the stable. They aren’t pretty by any means, but they’re enough to make due for now.

By the time I return to the town square, the hour is quickly ticking to its end. I climb the stairs to the council chamber, my staff clutched tightly in both hands. I need to show the council that I’m ready for this—that I’m more than ready for this. And I cannot do that with tearstained cheeks and grief in my eyes.

I swallow it all down, bitter as it may be, and pause in front of a mirror. The edges are meticulously carved in an ornate dragon frame, the beasts gilded in a shimmering gold.

I take a deep breath, finding my own reflection staring back at me—and for a moment, not knowing who it is. I look so warn, so defeated.

Enough, Arla.

I steel myself, vising my staff.

I must present myself as the tenacious Dragon Master my father wanted me to be. I must show I can meet the task at hand. And when I come back from the council chamber and look in the mirror, I will know the face staring back at me.

And she will be the new Dragon Master.