continue one day at a time, one moment after the other, learning what I can. The fireflies have found their light in a world of darkness and confusion. I can find my own.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Dorian and I enter the building as any trace of light is lost from the day. He holds the flap door open for me to duck into a large, warm room full of people. There is a pleasant hum of conversation, broken occasionally by scattered bouts of laughter. It is far from the monotone hush of the dining hall at the University. The activity is overwhelming.
The others are sitting along a wooden table that stretches all the way to a substantial fire fixed at the center. I have never seen a flame so large and powerful. The light seems to be alive, dancing back and forth, meticulously trapped within a circle of large stones. The others seem not to notice as its fingers lick toward them, wavering far from its encased circle. It snaps as if in fury, but is barely heard among the many voices. A thick gray cloud of smoke billows up through a shaft in the roof. The fumes give off the familiar sweet odor from outside.
Dorian shows me a way around the table and benches of people. I notice Malise reprimanding a young boy who is practically an exact copy of her, although smaller and with his black hair cut short. She looks up and notices me walking past. I smile and give a hesitant wave, yet she shows no reaction. Finally she nods before turning back to what can only be her younger brother.
I feel the intensity of its heat as we pass by the fire. I remain still for a moment, waiting to see if the fireflies are born from its flying sparks.
Once past, I notice that another table begins and curves down the center of the building. Every seat seems to be filled, yet Dorian doesn’t seem fazed. As we turn the corner, I notice an empty space beside the tall figure of Tor. He’s smiling and engaged in a conversation with some others across from him. I follow his gaze to those he’s adamantly talking with. My stomach drops, it’s Azura, and she’s sitting beside Liam.
As Dorian and I approach, Azura is the first to notice us. She smiles at Dorian but can’t hide a glare at me as I come to sit next to him.
“Ah, just in time. The food is just starting to be passed out. You might have missed your share if you were a second later.” Tor is as jovial as ever as he passes a pitcher to Dorian, who grabs the carved wooden mug in front of me and fills it. I thank him when he hands it to me, and he fills his own.
“Tor, your talk increases, and yet the Rebirth is almost upon us, and our plan is still not in order.” Azura speaks across the table sternly. A glance in my direction tells me she’s pleased I have no idea what she’s talking about. It does, however; spark my attention, and I lean in to hear better. What plans do they have for the Rebirth? It’s foreign information to me.
Dorian has stopped pouring his drink and sets it down with an unsteady hand. “Azura, this is not the time—”
Liam cuts in. “Then when is a good time? I for one am not willing to follow anyone blindly, and neither will the others. Without a plan all your ideas and aspirations are useless.” His chestnut eyes seem to hold a secret. The light of the fire dances on the walls and ceiling, giving his hair a redder glow than its usual auburn. His eyebrows are set in a frustration that goes beyond the issue at hand. He stares across the table toward Dorian with clear contempt.
The discussion halts as smooth wooden bowls are passed down the table. The procession stops once everyone has received their share. I hold my own gently between my hands. It’s warm, and the smell of the steamy contents wafts over me. The others have grown quiet as they dive into their food, and I allow myself the first savory sip. Lifting the bowl to my lips, I taste a thick stew, a creamy vegetable broth. I place the almost empty bowl on the table and reach for a piece of grain bread from the
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Dorian and I enter the building as any trace of light is lost from the day. He holds the flap door open for me to duck into a large, warm room full of people. There is a pleasant hum of conversation, broken occasionally by scattered bouts of laughter. It is far from the monotone hush of the dining hall at the University. The activity is overwhelming.
The others are sitting along a wooden table that stretches all the way to a substantial fire fixed at the center. I have never seen a flame so large and powerful. The light seems to be alive, dancing back and forth, meticulously trapped within a circle of large stones. The others seem not to notice as its fingers lick toward them, wavering far from its encased circle. It snaps as if in fury, but is barely heard among the many voices. A thick gray cloud of smoke billows up through a shaft in the roof. The fumes give off the familiar sweet odor from outside.
Dorian shows me a way around the table and benches of people. I notice Malise reprimanding a young boy who is practically an exact copy of her, although smaller and with his black hair cut short. She looks up and notices me walking past. I smile and give a hesitant wave, yet she shows no reaction. Finally she nods before turning back to what can only be her younger brother.
I feel the intensity of its heat as we pass by the fire. I remain still for a moment, waiting to see if the fireflies are born from its flying sparks.
Once past, I notice that another table begins and curves down the center of the building. Every seat seems to be filled, yet Dorian doesn’t seem fazed. As we turn the corner, I notice an empty space beside the tall figure of Tor. He’s smiling and engaged in a conversation with some others across from him. I follow his gaze to those he’s adamantly talking with. My stomach drops, it’s Azura, and she’s sitting beside Liam.
As Dorian and I approach, Azura is the first to notice us. She smiles at Dorian but can’t hide a glare at me as I come to sit next to him.
“Ah, just in time. The food is just starting to be passed out. You might have missed your share if you were a second later.” Tor is as jovial as ever as he passes a pitcher to Dorian, who grabs the carved wooden mug in front of me and fills it. I thank him when he hands it to me, and he fills his own.
“Tor, your talk increases, and yet the Rebirth is almost upon us, and our plan is still not in order.” Azura speaks across the table sternly. A glance in my direction tells me she’s pleased I have no idea what she’s talking about. It does, however; spark my attention, and I lean in to hear better. What plans do they have for the Rebirth? It’s foreign information to me.
Dorian has stopped pouring his drink and sets it down with an unsteady hand. “Azura, this is not the time—”
Liam cuts in. “Then when is a good time? I for one am not willing to follow anyone blindly, and neither will the others. Without a plan all your ideas and aspirations are useless.” His chestnut eyes seem to hold a secret. The light of the fire dances on the walls and ceiling, giving his hair a redder glow than its usual auburn. His eyebrows are set in a frustration that goes beyond the issue at hand. He stares across the table toward Dorian with clear contempt.
The discussion halts as smooth wooden bowls are passed down the table. The procession stops once everyone has received their share. I hold my own gently between my hands. It’s warm, and the smell of the steamy contents wafts over me. The others have grown quiet as they dive into their food, and I allow myself the first savory sip. Lifting the bowl to my lips, I taste a thick stew, a creamy vegetable broth. I place the almost empty bowl on the table and reach for a piece of grain bread from the
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