Chapter 4 Kailin
KAILIN
They say you can't go home again, that the person who returns is never the same as the one who left.
I used to think that was just poetry, but now I understand.
I'm flying home with a medal in my pocket that proclaims me a hero, with abilities I don't understand yet, and so full of secrets that I feel like I'm going to burst.
The girl who left Skywatcher's Point to embark on a sacred pilgrimage was terrified of heights and had dreams of leading a quiet life. The one returning home can speak to dragons and has prophetic dreams of demons attacking in the night.
How do I reconcile these two versions of myself?
How do I sit at my family's table and pretend nothing has changed when everything has?
Maybe that's what home is for—to remind us that beneath all our transformations, a part of us remains intact.
The part that loves and is loved in return.
—From the journal of Kailin Strom
The familiar sight of the town square of Skywatcher's Point rising up to meet us should have filled me with excitement.
I was about to see my family for the first time since the start of my pilgrimage, to hug my grandmother, my parents, and Chicha, to share the news about the medal I had been awarded, and to tell them about my part in saving Podana.
Oddly, I didn't feel like I was coming home, though. I was visiting.
The Citadel was my home now, and unless I failed the course and was discharged from the Dragon Force, it always would be. Except that didn't feel right either.
Home wasn't a place; it was where my loved ones were, and right now, nearly all of them were here in Skywatcher's Point.
People had already cleared space for Onyx, and his obsidian bulk was taking up a large portion of the square, but many lingered at the edges to watch Jagura back wing for landing.
It wasn't every day that two dragons arrived in quick succession.
As we touched down, Ravel and Alar were dismounting, and I couldn't help but notice that they seemed much more comfortable around each other than they had been before this flight. Had they enjoyed a good bonding experience talking about me?
Had Ravel told Alar anything about the real reason for the vacation I had been awarded?
If I was supposed to be bait, he would know.
"Need help getting down?" Dylon took off his flight goggles and stored them in their dedicated compartment.
"I'm good." I handed him mine. "I've done it enough times from much greater height. Onyx is easily twice the size of Jagura."
Dylon glanced at the huge male dragon. "I know that Ravel has become your personal flight instructor. You're lucky."
I wondered how much my brother knew about the reason for the special attention I was getting from his commanding officer and the connection between my training and my so-called heroic actions that had saved Podana.
Had Onyx told Jagura?
Supposedly, dragons were a gossipy bunch, so it was likely that she knew, but the question was whether she'd shared it with Dylon.
"Enjoy your time off, Little Warrior," Onyx said in my head.
"Thank you. Are you and Jagura heading back to the aviary?"
Someone had to remove the saddles, and it didn't look like Dylon or Ravel was about to do that.
"Yes, we are," Onyx said.
"Aren't you and Jagura supposed to stay close to keep me safe?"
I held my breath, hoping Onyx would tell me whether I was really in danger or if the bait hypothesis had been born out of paranoia.
"Keep your wits about you, and you will be safe, Little Warrior." Onyx took a few steps forward and launched skyward in a rush of wind that sent my carefully braided hair whipping around my face.
Jagura followed closely behind him, and as I watched them disappear over the mountain peaks, I tried to shake the irrational feeling of abandonment.
I felt safer with them around, but they couldn't stay. It wasn't fair to expect them to always be ready to serve. Dragons and their riders were partners, not each other's bonded servants.
"Why don't you join us for lunch, Commander?" my brother said to Ravel. "I mean, if you don't have any prior obligations. Our parents would be delighted and honored to have you."
Ravel shouldered his pack. "I don't want to impose on your family reunion."
"It's not an imposition," Dylon said. "My grandmother always cooks enough to feed a squadron, and nothing makes her happier than hungry guests."
Something flickered in Ravel's dark eyes, but I wasn't sure whether it was amusement or calculation. "Well, in that case, I accept your invitation." He fell in step with my brother. "I consider it my duty to make Elucian grandmothers happy."
Alar chuckled. "Kailin's grandmother is not your typical older lady. I don't know what post she fulfilled in the Elucian forces back in her day, but I bet she was a commanding officer."
"She was," Dylon said. "She headed a medic unit." He turned to Ravel. "Do you know where you'll be staying tonight, Commander?"
"I have a room reserved at the Pilgrim's Lodge. Why?"
Dylon shrugged. "I wanted to offer you the spare bed in my room."
Alar tripped over his feet, probably shocked by my brother's audacity to offer such a thing to the commander. But that was the thing about the Elucian Forces. Everyone served, and we were all one big family.
We weren't big on protocol.
"Thank you for the offer." Ravel clapped Dylon on his back. "And if I didn't have a room already, I would have gladly accepted. I'll tell you what, though. We can meet up at the bar tonight if you younglings are not too tired."
That was a surprise. Did Ravel actually want to hang out with us, or did he want to dangle me in front of whoever he thought would take the bait?
We made our way through the familiar streets, our dress uniforms drawing attention and salutes from everyone we passed.
Old Mr. Hedrick, who was a regular at the apothecary, straightened his arthritic back to salute us, and Mrs. Merriwar paused her sweeping to smile and wave.
Children gazed with wide eyes, and adults with approval, and that was without anyone knowing about my part in saving our capital or the medal I'd received.
They were just responding to our uniforms and showing their gratitude for our service.
"Feels strange, doesn't it?" Dylon murmured in my ear.
"It does," I admitted. "I'm not the same person who left this town forty-nine days ago. It feels like years have passed, not days."
"I know the feeling," my brother said.
I remembered how different he'd looked the first time he'd come down from the Citadel. Harder, more determined. But he hadn't carried a medal in his pocket proclaiming him a Hero of Elucia. The slight weight of it in my pocket seemed to grow heavier with each step.
"That's our house," Dylon told Commander Ravel, gesturing toward the end of the street.
Our home was a modest one-story stone building, with blue curtains in the windows and Gran's herbs growing in pots by the door.
When Dylon opened the wooden gate, it squeaked on its hinges, alerting Chicha to our arrival. The familiar sound of her excited barking had my heart swell, and as the door flew open and my father appeared, she darted between his legs, bounding toward me and yipping with joy.
"Kailin! My sweet girl!" The surprise and delight on my father's face made my throat tight. "Dylon said he was bringing a guest, but—"
I barely heard the rest because Chicha launched herself at me. I dropped my pack just in time to catch her, her wiggling body and enthusiastic kisses the best welcome home I could have asked for.
"I missed you, too, girl," I murmured into her fur.
She squirmed to get to Dylon next, who scooped her up and let her lick his face all over. Alar was next, getting the same treatment from Chicha as if he were already part of the family.
The sight of her covering his face with licks while he laughed made warmth bloom in my chest.
Ravel, on the other hand, got a slightly less enthusiastic welcome.
She sniffed him curiously, tail wagging slowly, and allowed him to pet her head, but she didn't offer licks or demand to be held.
"Dad, I would like you to meet Commander Ravel Nidar," Dylon said. "I invited him to join us for lunch."
Our father extended his hand. "Jayron Strom. Welcome to our home, Commander."
Ravel clasped my father's offered hand. "Thank you for having me."
My mother appeared behind my father, her eyes going wide when she saw me. "Kailin! Oh, sweetheart, what a wonderful surprise!" She squeezed by my father's bulky form to get to me and pulled me into a fierce hug.
"Hi, Mom," I whispered against her shoulder, inhaling her familiar scent.
"Let the girl breathe, Milly," Gran's voice came from inside. "And bring them in before the food gets cold."
My mother leaned away, her expression turning worried. "What happened to you? You are skin and bones."
"They are working us hard," I deflected her question. "Conditioning is brutal."
"It is," my brother confirmed. "I remember going down two pant sizes after basic training."
My mother didn't look convinced, her eyes darting to Alar, who hadn't changed nearly as much as I had.
We filed into the house, the familiar scents of home wrapping around me—herbs from Gran's work, baking bread, the lingering smell of Dad's pipe, even though he only smoked outside. Everything was exactly as I remembered, yet it was changed somehow now that I was different.
Mom bustled about adding more place settings while we shed our packs by the door. The dining table was laden with enough food for twice our number—roasted mountain goat with Gran's special herb crust, Mom's potato casserole, fresh bread, and pickled vegetables.
"It's good to be home." Dylon eyed the food hungrily. "As always, you've made enough to feed an entire squadron."
"That's how it's done in the Strom household." Mom smiled at him. "Too much is always better than not enough."