Wielder Of The Dragon Flame

Chapter 35

"I don't know. Anything. Everything. Where you're from. What your family likes. How you ended up here. Whatever you want to share."

Another pause, this one thoughtful rather than hesitant. Then Jabber began to speak, and his words painted pictures in the darkness.

"I'm from the western territories." 

Jabber said. 

"Small village called Sunset Ridge,you probably haven't heard of it. Maybe three hundred people, all connected to the Sunset Clan in some way. My family... we weren't important. Not clan leaders or elite warriors or anything like that. My father was a blacksmith.”

“Made tools mostly, farming equipment, horseshoes. Sometimes weapons if someone paid enough, but mostly just practical things that people actually needed."

Asta listened, picturing it. A small forge, the sound of hammer on anvil, the smell of hot metal and coal smoke.

"My mother helped run the village healer's house." 

Jabber continued.

 "She had a small healing flame,nothing powerful, just enough to ease fevers and help wounds close faster. She was kind. Always helping people, always making sure everyone had what they needed. The whole village loved her."

His voice had softened saying that, taken on a warmth that Asta had never heard from him before.

"I have…had…two younger sisters. Twins. They were seven when I left for the academy. Always getting into trouble, always making me chase them around the village trying to keep them out of mischief."

 A soft laugh.

 "They used to put flowers in my hair while I was sleeping. I'd wake up looking like some kind of festival decoration, and they'd be giggling so hard they could barely breathe."

Asta smiled at the image. It was hard to reconcile the quiet, closed-off Jabber he knew with a boy who'd let his little sisters braid flowers into his hair.

"The day I manifested my flame."

 Jabber said, his tone shifting slightly.

 "Everyone was so excited. The Sun Arising Flame,that's one of the Sunset Clan's most prestigious manifestations. Only appears once every few generations. They said I was blessed, that I'd bring honor to the family, that I'd probably become a great warrior or maybe even a clan leader someday."

He fell quiet for a moment, and when he continued his voice had gone flat again, empty. 

"My father cried. He was so proud. He gave me his best hammer, said it was for good luck, and said I should keep it to remember where I came from even when I was at the fancy academy training with all the elite flame wielders.”

“My mother made me promise to write every week. My sisters... they didn't really understand what it meant that I was leaving. They just knew their big brother was going away and they cried and held onto my legs so I couldn't walk to the carriage."

Asta could hear the pain in those words, the weight of a goodbye that had turned into something much longer than anyone expected.

"At first, the academy was amazing." 

Jabber said.

 "I'd never seen so many flame wielders in one place. People who could create entire creatures made of fire, who could fly on wings of flame, who could burn through solid stone like it was paper. And I had the Sun Arising Flame,people were interested in me, wanted to train with me, told me I had so much potential."

His voice grew harder.

 "But then they realized I couldn't control it. That it came when it wanted to, not when I called it. That sometimes it was too strong and sometimes it was too weak and I could never predict which it would be. And slowly, the interest turned to frustration.”

“Teachers would sigh when I failed exercises. Other students stopped wanting to partner with me because I was 'unreliable.' I went from being the promising kid from the small village to being the failure who couldn't master his own gift."

Asta heard him shift again and heard the bunk creak. 

"When Empress Valerie assigned me to Cassian Xavier's squad, I thought... I thought maybe this was my chance. The Xavier clan was legendary. Their training was supposed to be the best in the empire. Cassian Xavier himself was known as a prodigy. I thought if anyone could help me figure out how to control my flame, it would be them."

A bitter laugh. 

"Instead, Cassian took one look at me, watched me fail three training exercises in a row and told me I was wasting his time. Said I had power but no discipline, potential but no follow-through. Said I was weak.”

“He didn't even wait a full week before kicking me out. Just... dismissed me like I was nothing. Like those four years I'd spent struggling and training and trying didn't matter at all."

The words hung in the air, heavy with old hurt. Asta wanted to say something, but he sensed Jabber wasn't finished, so he stayed quiet and listened.

"I wrote to my family." 

Jabber said quietly.

 "Told them what happened. I tried to explain that I'd failed, that I wasn't going to be the great warrior they'd hoped for, that I'd been sent to the labor section instead. My father wrote back. Just once. The letter was... it was three sentences long."

Jabber's voice wavered slightly. 

“Son, we are disappointed. We expected better from you. Do not write again until you have something worth reporting.'"

"Jabber..." 

Asta breathed, his chest tightening with sympathy.

"My mother didn't write at all. My sisters..." 

He paused, and Asta could hear him swallow hard.

 "I don't know if they even know what happened. Maybe my parents told them I was busy with important training. Maybe they told them I forgot about them. I don't know."

"That's not fair." 

Asta said, anger flaring on Jabber's behalf. 

"You didn't fail. The system failed you. Cassian failed you. How is it your fault that you have power you can't fully control yet? That just means you need different training, not that you're worthless."

"Try telling that to my father." 

Jabber said with another bitter laugh.

 "In his mind, if you can't do something, it's because you didn't try hard enough. He built his entire life on the idea that hard work and determination can overcome anything. The idea that I might have tried my hardest and still failed... he can't accept that. Won't accept that."

Asta heard him take a shaky breath.

 "So I stopped writing. Stopped trying to explain. It's been two years now since I've heard from any of them. For all I know, they've told people I died or ran away or something. Easier than admitting their son with the prestigious Sun Arising Flame ended up breaking rocks in the labor section."

The silence that followed was heavy, thick with pain that Jabber had been carrying alone for years. Asta felt it settling over them like a physical weight.

"I'm sorry." 

Asta said finally, knowing the words were inadequate but not knowing what else to say. 

"That's... that's really terrible. You deserved better than that. From Cassian, from your family, from everyone."

"Maybe." 

Jabber said quietly.

 "Or maybe they were right. Maybe I am weak. Maybe I…"

"Stop." 

Asta's voice came out sharper than he'd intended, cutting through Jabber's self-deprecation like a blade…