Fireborn

2 ¦ Ribbons of Honor

With a gasp, I woke from my vision to find myself flailing in the bath, spilling water over the edge. My nose and chest burned as I tried to clear the fluid from my chest.

First I see fire and ashes, and now this?

"What in Hades are you doing?" Bragda roared from the other side of the door. "Swimming to the Seven Isles?"

I cleared my throat and tried my best to sound normal. "What do you think I'm doing?"

"Hurry the fuck up, Liselle. I need to bathe before the Induction Ceremony, too, ya know."

"Language."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." Bragda mimicked me in a fake falsetto that sounded ridiculous in her deep Dwarfish voice. "Your foul words poison my soul."

"Words have power, Bragda. Please respect that."

"Not as much power as my ax," she said in a gruff tone. "Which I will use to break down the bathroom door if you're not out of there in two minutes."

"All right, all right."

With ginger steps, I climbed out of the tub and wrapped a fuzzy towel around my body. My teeth began to chatter, and not only from the cold. The images from the terror vision sent chills down my spine.

It's not real. I'm stressed, and my mind is playing games with me.

I didn't want to tell Bragda about it and ruin the day for her. She made a fuss whenever I had a stress-induced terror vision, what we Sorcerers called a fisca. I didn't want her to cancel the most important event of our lives because of my condition.

So I gritted my teeth and pretended that nothing had happened.

Why couldn't I dream about unicorns and butterflies?

Bragda banged on the door with the handle of her ax, jolting me out of my thoughts. "Time's up," she said. "One...two..."

I wrenched open the bathroom door, confronted with a mass of bushy auburn hair and the flash of angry sapphire eyes. My dwarfish sister leaned against the handle of her blade.

"Were you really going to bang down the door?" I asked, wide-eyed.

Bragda scoffed and leaned the ax against her dresser. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

My sister had never laid a hand on me, not even when she raged. Her mighty temper did cause trouble, though. Once she'd even managed to turn our massive oak table into nothing but a pile of kindling.

Bragda did a double take once I left the bathroom and entered the light. "Wait a minute. You're all pale and shit. Did you have another vision?"

"No," I said as I shifted the towel and tightened the knot around my chest.

"Then get outta here," she said. "I have shit to do."

Her braided auburn beard swayed to and fro as she brushed past me with a huff. "You damn well had better left me some hot water," she said, slamming the bathroom door. "And don't forget to put on your formal robes."

"Yes, Mother."

"You need a damned mother!" she hissed. "What is it with you bookworms? You all remember a hundred spells but forget to put on your pants."

Before I could reply, she put the taps on full blast and drowned out my protests. With a groan, I walked off to my bedroom. Her forty dwarf years equated to nineteen human years, so Bragda was technically just a few months older than me.

That didn't keep her from thinking she could act bossy now that Mama was gone. A part of me loved her for it, and a part of me despised it.

Soon we'll both start university, and things can go back to normal.

With a heavy sigh, I sat in front of my vanity and stuck my bejeweled comb into my hair. With careful precision, I began to weave the tricolored ribbons into a fancy braid.

Green stood for nature, the path of a Healer devoted to the protection of all life. White represented chastity and honor, the path of a Sorceress who abstained from desire and dedicated herself to Creation. Blue signified the quest for knowledge through scientific inquiry, the meaning of life for all Wizards.

A couple of weeks ago, Bragda almost had a fit when I told her my plan to study three classes. Most citizens chose only one, maybe two, since each required intense study and separate oaths of allegiance.

"For fuck's sake, pick one," she shouted. "Three is insane."

"Every one of those pursuits is a part of me: body, mind, and soul."

"You can't give up on sex already," she said, shaking her head. "You're only eighteen."

"Wow, you really know how to focus on what's important."

"Have you ever kissed a boy? Or a girl for that matter?"

"What difference does that make?"

She gave me a heavy sigh and pinched her nose in impatience. "How can you know for certain? You're just a kid."

"I feel no urges for anyone. My heart belongs to nature."

Bragda sighed and threw her hands up in the air. "At least experiment a little first."

I pressed my forehead to hers, a Dwarfish gesture of solemn honesty. "I know what I'm doing, sis. Trust me."

"All right, Liselle. Far be it from me..."

My lips curled into a wry smile at the memory.

"Why in Hades are you smirking?" Bragda growled at me from the doorway. "See? It took me a quarter of the time it took you to get ready."

"Congratulations."

"And I don't look half-bad if I say so myself."

Into her braided beard, Bragda had woven her red ribbons--the symbol for the Warriors. She planned to become a member of the Free World militia based in Minningen, a great honor bestowed upon only the bravest Fighters.

Dressed in her finest black leather studded armor, Bragda exuded a gravitas I could never carry off. She showcased her metal ax with pride and confidence.

"Yeah, I like it."

"Your hair's nice."

"Thanks."

"If it was up to me, I'd say fuck the ribbons. Too girly and shit." She shrugged. "You know how it is. Rules are rules."

"You'd think your red hair would suffice."

"Ain't that the truth?"

"Don't worry. I'm almost ready."

"In brainiac tradition, you've still forgotten to put on your clothes." Bragda sighed and curled her lip. "You know, for a woman who wants no sex, you sure do love to be naked."

"For the love of all that's holy, I'm not naked. I'm wearing a towel," I said, tossing a hair tie in her general direction.

She grinned as she easily sidestepped my makeshift weapon. "My mistake, Your Dawdle-ship."

"Ugh, please let me get ready in peace."

"All right, all right," she replied, holding her hands in the air. "Don't shoot the messenger, but we gotta be there in three hours, and it's a three-hour trip by cart."

"Yeah, yeah, just gimme a minute."

I closed the door in her face. Taking a deep breath, I pressed my back against it.

See, it's okay. You're okay. It was nothing. Just a fisca.

As I donned my formal green Healer robes, I tried to ignore the tidal wave of unease that cascaded over my spirit. With a determined shake of my head, I cast my anxiety aside.

I wouldn't let anything ruin the most important day of our lives. Induction Day.