The airship swayed gently, anchored to the edge of the island's bustling docks. Below, the town thrummed with life, lanterns glowing softly against the deepening twilight. Inside the airship's main living room, a heavy silence hung between Kai and Bayu, broken only by the quiet rustle of papers scattered across the polished mahogany table.

Bayu set down two glasses of sorrel punch, their deep crimson hue glinting in the warm lamplight. He slid one across to Kai, who accepted it with a nod.

"I'm worried," Bayu admitted, leaning back in his chair and running a hand through his hair. His voice was low, but the weight of his words lingered in the room. "I'm not sure how long my wards can hold out, and those monsters are unpredictable."

Kai scratched absently at his hair, his brow furrowed. "This whole island is in trouble, isn't it?" His voice was grave, the words sounding more like a statement than a question.

Bayu nodded, his lips pressed into a thin line. "It is."

"How on earth do they expect four new recruits to stop an attack of this scale?"

Bayu hesitated, shuffling through the piles of parchment spread out before them. Charts, maps, and hastily written notes formed a chaotic mosaic of their situation. "They do," he said finally. "But... I think I might have an idea. Though I don't know how possible it'll be to implement."

Kai shook his head, a tired smile flickering across his lips. "You always have an idea, Bayu." He paused, then shook his head again, more purposefully this time, as if to dislodge the weight of the conversation. "Where's Isaac?"

"He's gone on patrol in the town,"

Kai nodded, his gaze drifting back to the papers before him. He was about to speak when Bayu's voice broke through the lull, carrying a hint of mischief. "What about the wolf?"

"Tomoya?" Kai asked, looking up.

Bayu nodded, leaning forward with an inquisitive glint in his eyes. "He's barricaded himself in his room, hasn't he?"

Kai's expression darkened slightly. "Yeah. I'm worried. We haven't been bonded to him yet, and I don't know how long we're going to be here in Antigua. The Convergence Trial can't happen until we're back in Alaska."

Bayu mulled this over, his fingers tracing the rim of his glass. "There's also the banquet," he added after a moment.

Kai looked up, surprised. "The banquet?"

"Yes." Bayu leaned back, his expression a blend of hope and skepticism. "I've negotiated with the witches and elves. Hopefully, this can all be cleared up then."

Bayu was silent for a moment, swirling the sorrel punch in his glass. The soft clink of the liquid echoed in the quiet. Finally, he glanced up at Kai, his tone more curious. "You know... I had no idea you and Isaac were so close."

"Close?" Kai repeated thoughtfully, setting his glass down. "Well, I think we're as close as we can be, what with this whole situation... and the bonding thing."

Bayu's face grew more serious, his playful edge fading. He leaned in slightly, and Kai could feel the warmth of his presence. His lashes, long and delicate, brushed against his cheek as he studied Kai intently.

"Kai, you saved his life," Bayu said softly. "Twice, he told me."

Kai shook his head dismissively. "I'm a dragonborn," he said, his posture straightening slightly. "I have healing properties."

Bayu's head tilted, his curiosity sharpening. "Do you think you could help me?"

Kai blinked, caught off guard. "Help you?"

Bayu nodded, rubbing his temple with a small grimace. "Since putting up these wards, I've been having awful headaches. They're getting worse."

Kai hesitated, studying Bayu's face. The tension in his expression was subtle but present—a faint line etched between his brows, a slight droop to his normally bright demeanor. "Let me try," Kai said after a moment, his voice quieter now.

Kai took a steadying breath and leaned closer to Bayu, lifting both hands to gently press his fingers to Bayu's temples. The touch was light, barely there, but Kai could already feel the soft thrum of Bayu's magic beneath his fingertips, like an unspoken rhythm echoing in his blood.

He focused inward, searching for the familiar heat of his dragonfire. It was a strange, intimate process—finding the flame not as a weapon, but as a source of warmth and healing. Kai swallowed the heat down, allowing it to ignite within him, spreading through his core like the embers of a furnace. Slowly, he directed the fire to his hands, his fingers pulsing faintly with its energy.

"Alright," Kai murmured, pressing a little more firmly against Bayu's temples. The warmth seeped into Bayu's skin, and for a brief moment, Kai felt the tension in Bayu's body ease.

But then—without warning, something cracked open.

It wasn't just Bayu's headache or Kai's fire—it was their bond. A sudden, sharp sensation surged between them, like a door slamming open, and Kai felt himself pulled toward it. Memories, emotions, and unspoken thoughts rushed against his senses, a wave of something far too personal.

Kai jerked back, his hands dropping to his sides. "I'm so sorry," he said quickly, his voice edged with panic. "I didn't mean to access our bond."

Bayu shook his head, leaning closer. His expression was calm, his deep, eyes steady. "No," he said softly. "I think it'll be good. It can help us."

Kai's brow furrowed, his worry not yet abated. "Bayu, I don't want to see anything I'm not supposed to. I don't want to invade your thoughts or memories."

Bayu lowered his gaze, staring at the floor as if gathering his words. For a long moment, the only sound in the room was the faint hum of the ship around them. Finally, he looked back up, his expression earnest.

"Is it weird that I trust you?" Bayu asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "Maybe even the most out of all of us?"

Kai blinked, taken aback. He studied Bayu—the prince, the noble, the endlessly composed leader. His aura was always sharp and fiery, the mark of a man accustomed to control and precision. Yet here he was, sitting vulnerable before Kai, his words raw and unguarded.

Kai thought back to everything Bayu had done for him—the long hours spent pouring over contingency plans, the patience Bayu had shown during their grueling patrols, and the seamless synergy they'd felt when fighting the monsters in Falmouth. Bayu's intelligence, his tenacity, his quiet strength—it all filled Kai with a deep sense of respect.

Kai nodded once, his mind made up. "Even if you trust me, and I trust you too, Bayu, you don't have to show anything to me that you're not ready to reveal. I can't promise that it won't be revealed to Isaac or even Tomoya, for that matter."

Bayu tilted his head slightly, considering this. Then, with a resolute nod, he said, "It's fine. Really."

Kai hesitated, his own doubts still bubbling beneath the surface, but the steady determination in Bayu's gaze reassured him. Slowly, carefully, Kai inched closer again. This time, he rested his forehead lightly against Bayu's.

The touch was grounding, a quiet connection that felt both intimate and steadying. Kai closed his eyes, his breath mingling with Bayu's. "Perhaps I can use the bond and my dragonfire to ease your headaches," he said softly.

Bayu didn't pull away. Instead, he exhaled deeply, allowing himself to relax into the moment. "I trust you, Kai," he whispered.

The words hung between them. Kai took another deep breath, letting his dragonfire rise within him again. This time, he guided it with more precision, the flames not just a source of power but a gentle light meant to heal.

Kai steadied himself, his forehead still pressed against Bayu's, their breaths mingling in the dim light of the room. He let the fire rise within him once more, fanning the flames carefully until they warmed his entire being. Slowly, deliberately, he sent the dragonfire through their bond.

The sensation was immediate—a rush of heat and light that surged into Bayu like a river flowing into an open sea. The bond crackled alive, a connection deeper than words or touch, and Kai felt himself sinking into it, carried by the current of Bayu's essence.

Inside, it was both chaotic and vibrant. Threads of magic coiled and pulsed, their colors shifting and weaving like ribbons in a storm. Yet amidst the beauty, there was something dark—a harsh, jagged ball of energy that pulsed with an angry red heat, the source of Bayu's relentless headaches.

Kai focused on it, directing his dragonfire toward the obstruction. The fire licked at its edges, burning away the dark, thorny strands that wove around the sphere. Each searing touch caused a ripple of sensation to course through the bond, and he could feel Bayu's body reacting—groaning softly, his head tilting back as if trying to escape the ache.

"It's okay," Kai whispered through the connection, even though he wasn't sure if Bayu could hear him.

The fire burned brighter, pressing deeper, unspooling the tightly wound threads of pain and tension. Bayu's magic flared in response, wrapping around the fire in waves, pulling Kai deeper into the bond. It was like being embraced from every direction at once—Bayu's essence surrounding him, shuddering and warm, intimate in a way Kai hadn't anticipated.

Then, without warning, the bond shifted.

Kai tumbled, as if falling, and suddenly he wasn't just in the bond—he was inside a memory.

He stood in a small, dimly lit room. The air was heavy with the scent of incense and old paper. In the center of the space, a boy stood before Bayu, his shoulders trembling.

"Please, Bayu," the boy was saying, his voice thick with desperation. "Don't leave. I'm sorry-"

The scene was raw, painful. Kai could feel Bayu's emotions bleeding through the memory—guilt, regret, an overwhelming love tangled with grief. Tears streamed down Bayu's cheeks, hot and unrelenting, as if his very soul was unraveling.

Kai instinctively reached out—not physically, but through the bond. He sent a wave of his dragonfire forward, not to burn this time, but to soothe. The fire wrapped around the memory like a comforting embrace, trying to ease the ache that radiated from it.

Bayu shuddered.

The connection tightened, and for a moment, it was as if they were holding each other—not physically, but through the bond itself. Kai could feel Bayu's arms, strong and trembling, encircling him, while his own fire wrapped protectively around Bayu's soul. The intimacy was overwhelming, a merging of minds and hearts that left no barrier untouched.

"Bayu," Kai murmured, his voice a soft echo in the memory. "It's okay. You're not alone."

Bayu groaned softly, the sound raw and vulnerable, and Kai felt the tears streaming down Bayu's face—tears that Kai instinctively tried to wash away through the bond, as though he could take the pain for himself.

With one final burst of fire, Kai burned through the last of the jagged magic, and the bond flared bright—searingly bright—before they were both thrown back into reality.

They gasped simultaneously, breaking apart as though surfacing from deep water. Kai's chest heaved, his hands trembling, his skin slick with sweat. Bayu's face was flushed, his breath ragged, his hands gripping the edge of the table for support.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The air between them was thick with unspoken emotion, the connection still humming faintly in the background, like the remnants of a song.

Finally, Bayu looked up, his eyes shining with a mixture of exhaustion and gratitude. "You...you helped me," he said softly, his voice barely audible.

Kai nodded, his throat dry. "Are you okay?"

Bayu gave a small, weary smile. "Better," he murmured.

Kai regarded Bayu with quiet understanding, his warm amber eyes searching the nobleman's face as though trying to read the unspoken emotions hiding beneath. "Do you want to tell me what happened?" His voice was soft, inviting rather than insistent.

Bayu hesitated, his lips pressing into a thin line as if holding back a flood of words. Finally, he gave a slight nod, his usual composure cracking just enough for vulnerability to slip through.

An idea formed in Kai's mind. "Let's go to my room."

Bayu blinked in surprise, but something about the gentle confidence in Kai's tone left no room for refusal. Silently, he followed.

Once inside, Kai stretched out on his bed, his movements unhurried, and patted the space on top of him. "Lie here," he said, his voice steady, though his heart thundered in his chest. The bond's remnants still pulsed beneath his skin, scorching like a low flame in need of fuel.

Bayu hesitated again, his brows knitting together in uncertainty. Kai could see the wariness in his posture, but also the longing—the unspoken desire for comfort, for connection. Tentatively, Bayu climbed onto the bed and lowered himself onto Kai, his weight pressing into Kai's chest.

Kai shivered as the rough fabric of their Aetherwing uniforms scratched against his skin. "Is it fine if I remove my shirt?" he asked.

Bayu nodded wordlessly, and Kai moved with practiced ease, unbuttoning his shirt and laying it beside the bed. Bayu followed suit, his movements slower, more deliberate. When he draped himself back onto Kai, the warmth of his bare skin was a revelation—soft, solid, alive.

Kai wrapped an arm around him, his hand resting between Bayu's shoulder blades. He stroked gently, his fingertips brushing over Bayu's tense muscles. Bayu was trembling.

"This is kind of weird," Bayu muttered, his voice muffled against Kai's shoulder.

"Yeah," Kai agreed, a quiet chuckle escaping him. "But it feels right."

He tightened his hold on Bayu, his large hands steady and grounding. The moment felt foreign yet natural, as though they were two halves of something being drawn together by an unseen force.

Kai's mind wandered as he spoke, his voice soft and reflective. "I was taken aback by how volatile your headache was earlier. It felt... layered. I don't think it was just the wards."

Bayu shook his head, his long dark hair brushing against Kai's neck. "No." His lips, warm and featherlight, brushed against Kai's dark skin. The contact sent a jolt through Kai, something erupting low in his stomach.

Bayu shifted slightly, pressing closer. "I was engaged to be married," he began, his voice turning wistful. "Her name was Ratih."

Kai's hand paused briefly on Bayu's back, then resumed its soothing motion. "Did something happen?"

Bayu let out a sardonic laugh, the sound bitter and cracking in the quiet room. "I loved Ratih, wholeheartedly. It was an arranged marriage, but I made a covenant to her. I thought she did the same to me." He paused, his voice thick with emotion. "She lied to me, Kai. The entire time."

Kai's brow furrowed, his heart tightening at the pain in Bayu's voice. He remained silent, letting Bayu unburden himself.

"She was in love with my brother Jaya," Bayu continued, his voice heavy with sorrow. "The one person I trusted above all others. My anchor."

Kai exhaled sharply, his grip on Bayu firming, protective.

Bayu's tone grew sharper, more brittle. "They didn't tell me. Not once. I found out on my birthday, of all days. I was planning to propose to her." His voice cracked, and he buried his face deeper into Kai's shoulder.

Kai's hand moved to the back of Bayu's head, fingers threading gently through his hair.

"And worse," Bayu whispered, his voice breaking completely now, "was seeing them. Kissing. He ravished her—"

Kai's hand stilled momentarily on Bayu's back as the words spilled out, each one heavy with anguish. Bayu's voice cracked on the last phrase, a tremor passing through his body, and Kai tightened his hold, drawing him closer. Bayu's breath hitched, and Kai felt the weight of his emotions as if they were his own—a deep, unrelenting ache, bitter and raw.

"Bayu..." Kai murmured, his voice low and steady, though his chest tightened at the pain radiating from the man lying against him.

Bayu shifted, burying his face deeper into Kai's shoulder. His body was warm, but the sorrow emanating from him chilled the air between them. "I gave everything to them, Kai," Bayu whispered, his words muffled. "Jaya, my brother. I trusted him with my life. And Ratih... she was supposed to be my future. "

Kai stroked Bayu's back again, his touch light yet grounding. "They betrayed you," he said softly, his voice carrying a depth of understanding.

"Not just betrayal," Bayu continued, "but humiliation. Everyone knew but me. They whispered, they pitied me. Jaya was my blood, Kai. How do you forgive that?"

For a moment, Kai said nothing, letting the silence carry them, the remnants of their bond pulsing faintly between them.

"I can't tell you how to forgive," Kai finally said, his voice thoughtful. "But I can tell you this, you don't have to carry their betrayal like a stone in your chest. It doesn't define you."

Bayu pulled back slightly, just enough to look up at Kai, his face shadowed but his eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "How do I let it go?" he asked, his voice almost breaking.

Kai gazed at him, his amber eyes steady, his hand coming up to gently brush a strand of Bayu's hair away from his face. "You start by letting someone else carry some of that weight with you. You don't have to do it alone."

Bayu's lips parted as if to say something, but the words seemed to falter. Instead, he rested his head back on Kai's chest, his breath evening out though his body remained tense.

After a moment, Kai spoke again, his voice lighter, teasing but kind. "You know, for someone so composed all the time, you're surprisingly terrible at asking for help."

A soft laugh escaped Bayu, though it was tinged with sadness. "I didn't think it would feel like this," he admitted. "Being vulnerable. It's terrifying."

Kai smiled faintly, his hand resuming its gentle stroke down Bayu's back. "It's not so bad once you realize the world doesn't crumble when you let someone in."

They stayed like that for a while, the weight of their shared vulnerabilities filling the space between them in a way that felt both heavy and freeing. Kai could feel the slow, steady rhythm of Bayu's breathing, the warmth of his skin against his own.

As Bayu began to drift, his voice came softly, almost a whisper. "Thank you, Kai. For this. For listening."

Kai's arms tightened around him, his voice equally soft. "Always, Bayu. Always."