•𝟓.𝟐𝐤•

꧁•𖢻•༻*✽*༺•𖢻•꧂

꧁•𖢻•༻*✽*༺•𖢻•꧂

     𝖂ith dappled sunlight spilling through the doors and windows left open for the autumn breeze so it may shield them against the sweltering heat, Xaden stands beside one of the sparring mats in the gym during a free period, Garrick at his side.

𝔗hough, his attention 'twere not upon those circling each other on the rubber mat like dance partners. With his arms crossed over his wide chest, instead, Xaden's eyes remain fixed upon none other than Reserras Atonal several mats down.

ℌis sapphire-encrusted sword glints in the pale gold light as he circles Emery Barne, a rider in his own year bonded to a Brown Clubtail, with a wolfish grin and his eyes fixated on his opponent—though, Xaden knows the left one sees nothing—awaiting his move.

𝔈verything about Reserras Atonal is so severe. The way he speaks, the way he moves, the way he interacts with others, and his features reflect it. His nose is long and sharp, and it matches his chin and jaw, his scar slicing through his eye to his cheek.

𝔅ut his lips are different. They aren't sharp like the rest of him, they are soft. Looked so soft.

   "𝐻𝑒'𝑠 𝑡𝑤𝑜 𝑦𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑠 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑗𝑢𝑛𝑖𝑜𝑟 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑖𝑛 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑖𝑛 𝑜𝑓 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑑. 𝐻𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑜𝑙." Sgaeyl's chiding breaks through his cloud of thoughts.

   𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢'𝑟𝑒 𝑓𝑖𝑓𝑡𝑦 𝑦𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑠 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑛 𝑇𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑛. 𝑌𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑝𝑜𝑖𝑛𝑡?

   𝔛aden can practically see her golden eyes roll, and the corners of his lips twitch with amusement.

   𝔗he morningstar in Barne's grasp strikes Reserras' sword with an ear-gritting shriek that bounces off the walls of the gym when the third-year attacks first, Reserras' patience paying off.

   𝔇odging the second swing of the spiked metal ball, Reserras spins around Barne, his blind eye now toward him. To fix that, Reserras spins around again, keeping his sword arm between him and Barne, and puts his good eye back on him.

   𝔛aden recognizes this technique, something his father taught him after... the incident, and knows it leaves Reserras more open to attacks from the back and his left side—the reason he hates it so damned much—but it keeps his eye on his opponent.

   ℌis long pearlescent hair, woven into the usual braided bun he wore at the nape of his neck whenever sparring, caught in the light. It made Reserras look handsome, more so than usual.

𝐼𝑓 𝑎 𝑏𝑒𝑎𝑚 𝑜𝑓 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑤𝑒𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑖𝑡𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑜 𝑎 𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑑, 𝑖𝑡 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑏𝑒 ℎ𝑖𝑠 ℎ𝑎𝑖𝑟. 𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝑖𝑡 𝑎𝑙𝑤𝑎𝑦𝑠 𝑠𝑒𝑒𝑚𝑠 𝑡𝑜 𝑔𝑙𝑜𝑤 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛 𝑟𝑎𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑛 𝑟𝑒𝑙𝑦𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑜𝑛 𝑠𝑢𝑛𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑒.

"𝑁𝑜𝑤 𝑤ℎ𝑜'𝑠 𝑔𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑚𝑢𝑠ℎ𝑦?"

𝐴𝑡𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑚𝑢𝑠ℎ𝑦 𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑛'𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑎𝑚𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔.

𝔖gaeyl's scoff resounds through his head, not believing a word he said. Xaden didn't much believe in them either. It wasn't mere attraction that made Res so damned mesmerizing to watch, whether he is fighting an opponent on the mats or just sitting across from him in Batttle Brief.

ℌe could get utterly lost within Reserras Atonal and those eyes of his.

   ℌis seeing iris a pale brisk greyish blue, not like the ocean, more like the sky before a storm, heavy with the threat of wind and rain. His other milky and lifeless, yet it took nothing away from his ethereal beauty.

   𝔗hough loathe to look away, Xaden tears his gaze from Reserras, shoving his shields into place before anyone notices him staring at Reserras with such a foreign look in his eyes that could get the one he couldn't live without killed.

   ℑt has before. He won't let it happen again.

   "𝐼 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝑒𝑥𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑙𝑦 ℎ𝑜𝑤 𝑜𝑓𝑡𝑒𝑛 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑟𝑒 – "

   𝐼 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑣𝑜𝑙𝑢𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑒𝑟 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦 𝑐𝑜𝑙𝑑-𝑤𝑒𝑎𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑖𝑛 𝑒𝑥𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑒 𝑖𝑓 𝑦𝑜𝑢 –

   "𝑅𝑢𝑑𝑒. 𝐴𝑠 𝑖𝑓 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑖𝑛𝑎𝑏𝑖𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑦 𝑡𝑜 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑜𝑙 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 ℎ𝑜𝑟𝑚𝑜𝑛𝑒𝑠 𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑢𝑙𝑡 𝑖𝑛 𝑚𝑦 𝑑𝑖𝑠𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑡."

ℜuthless and vicious as his girl might be, she draws the line at the cold, unless they're flying for Aretia.

𝔅eside him, Garrick steps up onto the black mat and whilst he spars against his opponent, a third-year from his section in Fourth Wing, Xaden cannot stop himself from, ever so slightly, glancing at Reserras from the corner of his eye.

𝔅ut what he sees makes his heart stutter in fear. The attack came swift on Reserras' blind side, the spikes on the morningstar slicing through his left bicep with a brutal thirst.

𝔉ire rushes through his veins and shadows spasm around him, distorting his vision for a second, when Reserras' pained shout pierces his heart like the sharpest blade.

𝐻𝑜𝑤 𝑑𝑎𝑟𝑒 ℎ𝑒! 𝐻𝑜𝑤 𝑑𝑎𝑟𝑒... 𝑎𝑛𝑦𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑓𝑢𝑐𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 ℎ𝑢𝑟𝑡 𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑖𝑠 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑒!

ℌe pins his feet to the floor with shadows to keep from marching over there and feeding the guy his fist. It isn't a dire wound, he tells himself, just a flesh wound Nolon could easily mend.

ℜeserras has survived worse, 𝑚𝑢𝑐ℎ 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑠𝑒.

"𝑀𝑢𝑠ℎ𝑦," Sgaeyl chuffs. "𝐼𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑙𝑒 𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑠𝑢𝑐ℎ 𝑎 𝑚𝑒𝑎𝑔𝑒𝑟 𝑠𝑐𝑟𝑎𝑡𝑐ℎ, 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑛 ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑏𝑒 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑡ℎ𝑦 𝑜𝑓 𝑦𝑜𝑢, 𝑆ℎ𝑎𝑑𝑜𝑤𝑒𝑑 𝑂𝑛𝑒." Before he can think of a snarky response, his she-dragon continues to chide him, "𝐵𝑢𝑡 ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑎𝑛, 𝑠𝑜 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑜𝑙 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓."

𝔓roving her words, Reserras readjusted himself with little regard to the bleeding cut as Barne swung down with the bone-shattering morningstar once again and again and again, allowing him little momentum to dodge it.

𝔈ven so the long haired cadet wields his sword gracefully, like 'twere but child's play to him. 'Tis what makes Reserras Atonal so lethal, why he is becoming one of the quadrant's most feared cadets.

𝔅ecause to him, it was.

ℌis posture exudes sheer power and royalty. His movements almost feline like in their swift elegance as he dodges every swing of Barne's morningstar.

𝔄s the third-year intensifies his attack, Reserras swiftly sidesteps. He deftly shifts his weight from one foot to the other, sharp eyes searching for any small opening.

𝔗he last swing of the morningstar 'tis slow with too much force behind it. An opportunity reveals itself to Reserras, whom makes his move.

𝔗he tall cadet leans back–a bluff move–then surges forward, raising his sword at the last second to deflect the heavy ball of spiked steel. The glimmering sword in his hand 'tis brandished anew with a flourish as the tip of the blade finds its way to Emery's throat before he could lift his arm to swing his weapon again.

𝔖econd Squad swelled with applause at the victory, especially the guy, Ree something, and Sawyer. The third-year graces Reserras with a tired smile in defeat before dropping the heavy mace to the mat beneath, yielding.

𝔄 smirk curls Reserras' lips, tilting his head, "So close." He teases, a playful glint in his eyes.

𝔈mery chuckles, "One day, Reserras. Even without signets, someone'll best you."

𝔗wirling the hilt of his sword within his palm, Res lowers it from Emery's neck, "One very far away day." Sheathing their weapons with a snicker, the pair pat each others' backs as they walk off the black mat, joining their squad once again.

𝔗he proud admiration swirling within his onyx eyes for the one he 'twould lay his life within the hands of without hesitation dissolves into a fierce glare when a girl in Second Squad approaches Res with a sway of her hips that is anything but casual.

   𝔚atching the girl–Luca he remembers–praise his fighting style whilst looking through her fluttering lashes up at him with a sultry grin on her plump lips, something within Xaden begins to stir awake after lying dormant for many years.

   𝔗hen, Luca puts her fucking hands on Reserras' arm when she notices the blood trickling down his sleeve. Someone else has her hands on his Reserras. 

   𝔑ot his.

   𝔅ut that doesn't stop the knot in his stomach from unfurling, spreading like acid into his system, burning through his chest and making it hard to draw breath until that brown-haired bitch lifts her hands.

   "Damn. You all right over here?" Garrick asks with
laughter lacing his tone as he joins Xaden's side once again.

   "I'm..." Luca begins rubbing Reserras' arm. How fucking dare she lay her hands on Reserras, when he would –

   "𝑌𝑒𝑠, 𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑑𝑜?"

   𝑊ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑𝑛'𝑡 𝐼 𝑑𝑜.

   "You're looking a little green," Garrick flat-out laughs, and Xaden all but forces air in and out of his lungs as Reserras steps back from the girl. "In twenty years, I don't think I've ever seen you jealous before. This is amazing." Garrick claps his hand on his shoulder.

   𝐽𝑒𝑎𝑙𝑜𝑢𝑠. 𝑇ℎ𝑎𝑡'𝑠 𝑒𝑥𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑙𝑦 𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 ℎ𝑜𝑡, 𝑐𝑜𝑟𝑟𝑜𝑠𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑖𝑠–𝑗𝑒𝑎𝑙𝑜𝑢𝑠𝑦.

   "Sometimes I hate how fucking observant you are."

   "It's hard to miss the way you look at him." Garrick says, lowering his voice, though an amused smirk still quirks at his lips. Xaden spots an interesting match in Claw Section, and begins towards it. Garrick keeps pace with him. "Like you want to fu–"

   "Don't finish that sentence when I'm in the mood to hit people."

   𝔗hey're mutually assured destruction against each other, which has made them the perfect sparring partners these past years, but Xaden knows he 'tis just aggravated enough to do some real damage to his best friend, despite the size Garrick has on him.

   "Oh, would you, please?" He puts his hand to his heart and grins. "I need you to use those big, strong hands to show me – "

   𝔛aden shoves Garrick's shoulder hard enough to send him staggering sideways and keeps walking out of Flame section and into Claw.

༻*✽*༺

—𝕷ater that day, Reserras sits with his squad midst the mage-lit gathering hall. With a grunt, he scratches at the uncomfortable bandage wrapped around his bicep beneath his form-fitting tunic.

ℌe could've had the war college's mender, Nolon Colbersy, heal the wound, but Reserras prefers for his wounds to heal naturally without the use of magic.

ℌe didn't mind whenever his wounds 'twould fade into jagged white scars. Reserras never thought scars made one uglier, or weaker.

𝔑ot him, not anyone else.

𝔄nd so, the flesh wound'd been stitched closed by a cadet in the Healers Quadrant and wrapped in a black bandage that 'tis slowly beginning to irritate his pale skin.

𝔄 sudden hand slaps his own away, "You'll rip your stitches doing that," Ridoc chastises.

   ℜeserras huffs—in more amusement than annoyance at the brown-haired cadet—but nonetheless relents. He leans back in his seat with a long breath, outstretching his legs beneath the table with an ankle crossed over the other.

   𝐼𝑡'𝑠 𝑏𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑎 𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑦. He couldn't wait to crash on his bunk after dinner.

   𝔏azily twirling his mother's topaz-hilted dagger in his hand whilst gazing absently at the flickering blue heat in iron scones spread across the stone walls, Reserras tunes in and out of the conversations between his squad-mates floating around him.

   "Raegan was close to her due-date when I left home to join the quadrant," Rhiannon wistfully grins, though the longing within her eyes for the family she left to join this hellscape 'tis obvious.

   𝔐any of those within the Riders Quadrant left behind their families and the comforts of their homes for a multitude of reasons: to make names for themselves, to serve oh-so-glorious Navarre by becoming the best it has to offer, or some 'twere just looking for something to bring them away from the shit life they've always known.

   𝑁𝑜𝑡 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑜𝑓 𝑢𝑠 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑑 𝑎 𝑐ℎ𝑜𝑖𝑐𝑒, 𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ.

   "Boy or girl?" Aurelie asks.

   ℜhiannon shrugs, "I don't know, but Raegan swore I'd be meeting a nephew after graduation. "Mother's intuition," or so she called it," she chuckles.

   ℜidoc cracks some wise-ass joke that earns a bout of laughter from the table, even from the ever so cold and ruthless Reserras—on the sparring mats, at least—before he slips into his mind again.

   ℌis head 'tweren't swirling with a jumble of thoughts, though, 'twas quiet as only the repetitive movement of his mother's dagger twirling through his deft fingers occupies the silence.

   𝔖awyer joined in to talk about his own family left in his home, then Aurelie told them of her father and her brother, Chase Donans—whom 'tis stationed with the Southern Wing near the Krovlan border, which they know from Battle Brief doesn't see a lot of action—rider legacies, apparently.

   𝔚hen Violet reminisces on her childhood with her twin, Res blinks out of his empty thoughts—the sling she's been wearing since assessment day is finally gone.

   "Ever since she first saw our mother's dragon, becoming a rider was all Amara wanted," Violet grins, remembering those simple days when all they did was find places to swim and climb and dream about the dragon Amara 'twould one day fly with.

   𝔙iolet knows, despite the condition they 'twere both born with, that Amara will be flying out of the field with a dragon come Threshing in two months. 

   𝔖he trained all her life to become a rider, 'twas her childhood dream.

   𝐸𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦 𝑆𝑜𝑟𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑔𝑎𝑖𝑙 𝑖𝑠 𝑎 𝑟𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑟.

   "But it wasn't what you wanted," Reserras says, his tone soft yet his words float across the table to her, breaking her thoughts.

   𝔙iolet blinks, then shakes her head after a moment. "No. I wanted to be a scribe, like Dad." Her hazel eyes swim with the grief of her father's passing only a year ago. 𝐺𝑜𝑑𝑠, 𝐼 𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑠 ℎ𝑖𝑚.

   "Damn. No wonder you know every answer to every question in every class," Ridoc smirks.

   𝔚hile the rest of the table chuckles, shaking their heads at him, Violet looks at Reserras, and he looks at her. A silent understanding blossoms between them in this moment. One of loss, of having no control nor say in their fates for the longest time, of sheer fucking will to protect the family they do have left in this cruel world.

   𝔖he feels like 'tis only them in the gathering hall, but blinks the thought away. "What did you want to be, Reserras?" She finds herself wondering aloud.

ℌe shrugs, "It never mattered. I would still be here as I am today... war or not."

   𝔖he tilts her head, "But if you had the choice?"

   𝔄 sigh passes his lips. He comes from a generations long legacy of dragon riders, becoming one 'twas all he ever knew since the moment of his birth. But then, a smirk pulls at his lips.

𝔑ot a cold, malicious thing, but one that takes them all by surprise, one of mischievous amusement, "Well, becoming a rider does have its perks. I can't say I'd mind it if a dragon chooses me."

   𝑊ℎ𝑜 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑?

𝔖he chuckles, and he does too.

"Was that a joke?" Ridoc gasps, eyes wide in mock surprise. Res scoffs in amusement, shoving his broad shoulder, "Maybe," he shrugs with a grin tugging at his lips, "I am capable of more than just beating your ass on the mats, you know."

   "Oh, well could've fooled me with that permanent scowl of yours."

   ℜeserras snorts, "And it's ever a wonder you've made it this long with that waggling mouth of yours."

   𝔄 suggestive smirk pulls at Ridoc's lips, "It can do more than just waggle, Ressy." He wiggles his brows, and Reserras holds a hand to his heart, feigning a lovesick swoon.

   𝔖econd Squad's laughter rings across the table, the pair bumping each others' shoulders, snickering.

   𝔚hen his stomach grumbles in hunger, Reserras straightens his once slouched position to pluck a plum from his tray. With his mother's dagger, he peels off the dark purple skin then bites into the fruit.

   ℌe hums in delight at the sweet juices washing over his taste buds. A trickle escapes the corner of his lips, and Reserras wipes it away with his finger, licking it off.

   𝔄n abrupt velvety darkness curls around his ankles like a serpent, squeezing the limbs with a yearning and fierce desire. Res lifts his gaze across the hall, blue finding onyx.

   ℜeserras blinks.

   𝔈ven with the distance between the tables they sit at, he could see the burning need, the sheer intensity of it, all but overcoming Xaden's eyes. And that look—𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑓𝑢𝑐𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑘—stirs awake an eruption of fucking butterflies within his belly, and they flutter about relentlessly.

   𝔄ll the air within his lungs leaves him, and Res finds it harder to draw a steady breath. The blood within his veins rushes to his head, making everything else fuzzy as his ears begin to ring. The hall suddenly feels ten times hotter than it truly is...but Res couldn't look away.

   ℌe didn't want to.

   𝔛aden's gaze, those eyes of his, it slowly consumes him as it licks away at his insides with an unrelenting fire, but by Malek, was it the most delicious way to burn.

   "Ah-ha! I knew it," Ridoc exclaims, slamming the palm of his hand against the table, rattling the trays and silverware, and pulling him from...𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑒𝑙𝑙 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑠. With blood swirling in his pink cheeks, Reserras' lashes flutter as he turns his gaze to the wise-ass who reminds him more and more of Raerion with every day that comes and goes.

𝔗hey were both spitting off sarcastic comments whenever the opportunity presented itself—𝑃𝑒𝑟ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡'𝑠 𝑤ℎ𝑦 𝐼'𝑣𝑒 𝑏𝑟𝑜𝑘𝑒𝑛 𝑚𝑦 𝑟𝑢𝑙𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑓𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑 𝑚𝑦𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎 𝑓𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑝 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ ℎ𝑖𝑚.

   𝔘nbeknowist to either Reserras nor Xaden, the light blonde sat across the hall, Liam, smirks to himself with a shake of his head, chuckling beneath his breath. By gods, were the two of them so obvious to him... and practically everyone who sees them together.

   ℌe's spent the past six years watching the yearning between those two idiots. Every. Dammed. Day. Him, Garrick, Bodhi, and Raelon'd already placed bets on whom 'twould finally crack first.

   𝔅odhi and Garrick thinks 'twill be Xaden, but him and Raelon believe otherwise. 'Tis just a waiting game, now, he supposes.

   𝔈ngaged with the conversation, Reserras spares a swift look at Xaden, those velvet shadows still curled around his ankles, but the shadow wielder 'twere no longer looking at him.

   𝑊ℎ𝑦 𝑑𝑖𝑑 ℎ𝑒 𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑘 𝑎𝑡 𝑚𝑒 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡?

༻*✽*༺

     —𝖀pon leaving the gathering hall after dinner, 𝑤ℎ𝑖𝑐ℎ 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑𝑛'𝑡 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑑 𝑎𝑛𝑦 𝑠𝑙𝑜𝑤𝑒𝑟, Xaden parts from Garrick to await for those familiar pearlescent locks within the claws of the marble blue dragon.

   𝔄waiting for him to emerge from any of those four arched doors, his heart flutters madly within his chest with every person that comes and goes at just the mere fucking thought of being close to him again, his Ressy. 𝐺𝑜𝑑𝑠, 𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑖𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑚𝑎𝑛 𝑑𝑜𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑜 𝑚𝑒? It's only been since after morning formation when they last talked, 𝑜𝑛𝑙𝑦 ℎ𝑎𝑙𝑓 𝑎 𝑑𝑎𝑚𝑚𝑒𝑑 𝑑𝑎𝑦!

"𝑌𝑒𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑖𝑡 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑙𝑠 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟. '𝑂ℎ, 𝑅𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑦, 𝑖𝑠 ℎ𝑒 𝑜𝑘𝑎𝑦? 𝐼𝑠 ℎ𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑚𝑒? 𝐼 𝑛𝑒𝑒𝑑 ℎ𝑖𝑚. 𝐻𝑜𝑤'𝑠 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑎𝑟𝑚?'" Sgaeyl breaks the eager silence, mocking him.

𝔛aden huffs, 𝐼 𝑑𝑜 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑘 𝑜𝑓 ℎ𝑖𝑚 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑜𝑓𝑡𝑒𝑛.

𝔗he she-dragon chuffs, "𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑔𝑒𝑡 𝐼'𝑚 𝑎𝑙𝑤𝑎𝑦𝑠 𝑎𝑡𝑡𝑢𝑛𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑦𝑜𝑢." He doesn't say anything back.

𝔖o what if he does? Reserras Atonal is a pleasant reprieve to spend the day thinking about compared to everything else plaguing his heavy mind.

   𝔄nd amidst the cacophony of chattering cadets spilling from the doors, Xaden finally spots that unmistakable hair with a stutter of his heart.

𝑃𝑢𝑙𝑙 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓 𝑡𝑜𝑔𝑒𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟, 𝑋𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑛. He scolds himself.

ℌe summons the very roots of Sgaeyl's power from the Hill and becomes one with the shadows within the rotunda, slithering his own across the marble floor like a serpent and wrapping it around Res' wrist, giving forth a gentle tug in his direction.

𝔄 smirk curls his impossibly soft lips when Reserras wets his lips to contain a smirk of his own, slowing his pace behind his squad with subtlety so as not to gather any attention before gliding off towards the blue dragon with stealth akin to a feline.

𝔚ith the shadows concealing them from the naked eye, Xaden feigns ignorance to the gallop of his heart at the sight of Reserras' greeting grin, 𝑜𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑠𝑒 𝑠𝑜 𝑓𝑢𝑐𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑘𝑖𝑠𝑠𝑎𝑏𝑙𝑒 𝑙𝑖𝑝𝑠, as blue meets onyx.

"How's your arm?"

ℜes glances at his arm, "It's alright, it doesn't hurt." He's suffered through worse, much worse. He smirks, "I guess I finally scored my first wound here after nearly a week."

𝔛aden snorts, "I suppose so. Are you hoping for a certain amount of war-wounds before you graduate?" 𝐵𝑒𝑐𝑎𝑢𝑠𝑒 ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑚𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑖𝑡 𝑡𝑜, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑝𝑎𝑠𝑡, 𝑔𝑟𝑎𝑑𝑢𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛. Res shrugs, "Maybe." Xaden just rolls his eyes in amusement with a chuckle.

𝔊esturing to the doors leading into the courtyard–where several of the cadets have already wondered off to in the hour before curfew–with a tilt of his head, "Walk with me?" Xaden asks.

𝔚ithout an ounce of hesitation, Reserras nods.

𝐴𝑙𝑤𝑎𝑦𝑠.

𝔛aden struggles to withhold the grin desperately trying to overcome his lips as they leave the rotunda and squint into the sunset-drenched yard. The sky was an expanse of yellow, orange, and purple, dotted with feathery cirrus wisps of molten gold as the radiant rays of the setting sun shone brightly in the artistic sky, the last shadows of the day dancing on the grass softly swaying in the crisp breeze beneath their feet.

𝔗he echoing roars of the dragons drift through the whispering wind from the Vale, mingling with the soft chatter of those meandering throughout the spacious yard–either studying for upcoming tests, chatting with their friends, sparring on the soft grass, or making out in the cover of bushes.

ℑnstead of climbing the steps unto the crenellations of the walls to gaze at the sunset, wanting this hour the two of them have before the bells ring to be just him and Res, Xaden leads Reserras down a set of carven stone stairs towards the grassy shoreline of the Iakobus River.

"Ah shit," Res mutters as he stumbles on a rock concealed by the waist-high grass that grows alongside the river beneath the citadel, but Xaden is there in a heartbeat to grip his elbow and keep his face from meeting the ground. "You okay?" He chuckles. Reserras nods, mirroring his chuckle.

   𝔅eneath the shade of an oak tree, the breeze tousling its fading leaves as autumn approaches, the pair sit by the bank of the rippling river, hidden with the stalks of tall grass at their backs. The babbling water of the river dazzles like bright sapphires beneath the last light of the sinking sun at their feet.

ℜeserras rests his elbows on his knees, clasping his wrist, gaze faraway upon the glittering waters as a line forms between his brows, and Xaden knows he 'tis deep within his wondering mind.

ℌe wonders what Res 'twere thinking about as the golden dusk spills across his ethereal features. By the gods, he'd never seen anything quite so beautiful.

𝔛aden steals a precious moment just to look at the Atonal beside him, the man he couldn't fathom a life without. 𝑁𝑜, 𝑙𝑖𝑓𝑒 𝑑𝑜𝑒𝑠𝑛'𝑡 𝑒𝑥𝑖𝑠𝑡 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑅𝑒𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑟𝑎𝑠 𝑖𝑛 𝑖𝑡.

𝐼 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ ℎ𝑖𝑚 𝑏𝑒𝑡𝑤𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑣𝑒𝑛𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑡ℎ. 𝐼 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 ℎ𝑖𝑚. 𝐼'𝑚 𝑖𝑛 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 ℎ𝑖𝑚. 𝐹𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑛𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑚𝑜𝑜𝑛𝑏𝑒𝑎𝑚𝑠 𝑙𝑖𝑡 𝑢𝑝 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑓𝑎𝑐𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑤𝑒 𝑠𝑛𝑢𝑐𝑘 𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑜 𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑏𝑎𝑙𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑦 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑖𝑟𝑠𝑡 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒, 𝐼 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑑 ℎ𝑖𝑚 𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑙𝑦. 𝐼 𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑏𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑛 ℎ𝑒 𝑖𝑠 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑛𝑒𝑎𝑟. 𝐼 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑐𝑟𝑎𝑣𝑒𝑑 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑡𝑜𝑢𝑐ℎ, ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑘𝑖𝑠s. 𝑀𝑦 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑐𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑠 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑛𝑎𝑚𝑒. 𝐹𝑜𝑟 𝑎𝑠 𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑠 𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑠𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑠 𝑟𝑒𝑚𝑎𝑖𝑛 𝑡𝑒𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑔𝑜𝑑𝑠𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑠𝑎𝑘𝑒𝑛 𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑡ℎ, 𝐼 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑜𝑛𝑙𝑦 𝑦𝑜𝑢, 𝑅𝑒𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑟𝑎𝑠 𝐴𝑡𝑜𝑛𝑎𝑙. 𝐴𝑙𝑤𝑎𝑦𝑠.

𝔄nd those words, those lovesick and true words, rest right there, on the very tip of his tongue, yet when he goes to speak, he only says, "Tell me what you are thinking," instead.

ℌis Res' long lashes flutter, blinking out of his thoughts, "I only wonder what my sisters are doing right now, in this moment."

"Naerenya is most likely stirring up some ruckus, knowing her," Xaden smirks.

𝔚hen Reserras chuckles and mirrors his amused smirk, his heart flutters. "Without a doubt."

𝔗hough, the twinkle in Res' eyes dim, "I wish I could write to her."

"You will see her in a year."

𝔚ith a nod, Reserras lets his gaze slip back to the river, once again, as a serene hush falls over the pair, whom have been together since a very young age.

𝔗he past two years 'twere truly the longest they'd ever been apart.

𝔄nd the pain it'd speared through their young hearts 'twere like nothing they'd ever known before—like half of their being had been torn away, leaving behind a gaping hole that oozed sorrow and longing.

𝔗he Riorsons and the Atonals of Tyrrendor have been trusted family-friends for well over three generations, a friendship so strong they have never needed marriages between their families like numerous others on the Continent.

𝔚hen Fen openly declared rebellion against Navarre and rose against King Tauri, Resaron 'twas the first to stand at his side with his bright red dragon.

𝔛aden could still fondly remember the days when a younger, and smaller, Reserras would follow him around the Riorson House whenever his family would stay for the fourteen summers they all had together before the Rebellion ripped them apart.

𝔗hose early mornings in the hues of golden dawn spent training for endless hours in the gardens, and the late nights spent underneath the bed sheets, reading all about history and fables until their parents eventually caught them staying up well past bedtime.

𝔄s the years turned and they grew older, the pair would sneak away to the tallest balcony in his house in the night during those sweet summers, feasting on an entire platter of chocolate cake whilst talking about anything and everything that came to mind.

𝔖ome nights, the young boys didn't say anything at all, just basked in the moonlight and the tranquility of their shared company whilst their bare feet dangled over thousands of feet.

𝔗hey never feared falling, for they knew the other was always there to catch them.

𝔚henever left alone with his thoughts these past two years, Xaden 'twould find himself longing for those days. He still does, even now, 𝑒𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑐𝑖𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑛𝑜𝑤.

𝔅ut those memories had been the only things to keep him going through those darker days when the weight of the world seemed like 'twould collapse on him.

ℌis chest felt hollow without Ressy at his side, as if... 𝑎𝑠 𝑖𝑓 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑝𝑖𝑒𝑐𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑚𝑦𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑔. But now, with Reserras Atonal with him again, sitting beside him in this moment, he felt whole...like he'd never be alone again. And he never wants to loose that. 𝐼 𝑐𝑎𝑛'𝑡.

𝔛aden Riorson will not let Basgiath take away the one thing, the one person, he...couldn't live without, wouldn't live without.

ℌe'd rather let the world burn than loose Reserras Atonal. 𝐹𝑢𝑐𝑘 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡, 𝐼'𝑙𝑙 𝑏𝑢𝑟𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑙𝑑, 𝑖𝑡𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓, 𝑖𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡'𝑠 𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑖𝑡 𝑡𝑎𝑘𝑒𝑠 𝑡𝑜 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑡𝑒𝑐𝑡 ℎ𝑖𝑚.

𝔈ven though he knows Reserras 'tis lethal in any fight, he still worries for him, 𝑎𝑠 𝐼 𝑎𝑙𝑤𝑎𝑦𝑠 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙, for the true danger 'twere only beginning with challenges starting within the week.

𝔄fter those five weeks, the Gauntlet then Threshing. Beyond October 1ˢᵗ, will then come Squad Battles and War Games, both which test the new bloods' signets and bonds with their dragons in brutal and bloody ways. And after first-year...

𝑁𝑜, 𝑑𝑜𝑛'𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑘 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑓𝑎𝑟 𝑎ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑑 𝑦𝑒𝑡.

𝔄 weight suddenly rests on his shoulder, breaking through his monologue of thoughts, and Xaden looks to see Reserras tucked into his side, closing his eyes with a tired breath.

ℌe wets his lips as they quirk with a smile, heart fluttering madly for the hundredth time, and presses them against Res' crown of silver in a tender kiss. By Amari, he loves this man. Laying his cheek against Res' head, he breathes sandalwood and citrus and he feels...home.

"Challenges begin in a few days," Reserras' soft tone says in the golden hue. "They do. Does that worry you?"

ℜeserras scoffs in amusement, shifting slightly only to further curl himself into Xaden's warmth, "Hardly. More like fills me with eagerness."

𝔛aden snickers, "Ruthless Reserras."

"Well, I ought to be if I'm to survive until graduation, let alone..." The words go unspoken, yet Xaden heard them nonetheless.

𝔖urvive the true enemy beyond the warded borders of Navarre, something one would find a comfort in believing to be left in scary fables from their youth. But every myth and legend rings with its own truth, and sometimes its a terrible thing.

𝔏ies are comforting, the truth is painful.

𝔅ut, in this world, true courage is looking the truth in the face and going on despite the fear.

𝔖omething Xaden and Reserras 'twere forced to do when far too young at heart. They were merely young boys discovering the awakening feelings within their hearts when they were thrust into the war.

𝔄 war that cost them, and everyone they've ever loved, a great price that will remain with them until they leave this world...

𝔚hether in peace or pieces, it all remains to be seen.

𝔗he tolls of the bells carry through the bitingly cold wind, breaking the serenity of the moment, and the young men notice the sun has gone beneath the horizon for the night with the moon glowing from its highest perch in its place, the burning stars twinkling as crickets chirp in the grass and owls hoot from the branches above them.

   𝔈xpelling a breath, knowing they must return to the cold walls of Basgiath soon, Xaden says, "Tomorrow night, gather Liam and all the other marked ones in the barracks and meet me here, by the river." Although his dark brows crease slightly in confusion, Res nods on his shoulder, "Sure."

   ℜes moves to stand, but Xaden 'tis quicker as he wraps his arm around Reserras' lithe waist, "No," he breathes, "Stay here for a bit longer."

   𝐴𝑛𝑑 ℎ𝑜𝑤 𝑡ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑒𝑙𝑙 𝑎𝑚 𝐼 𝑠𝑢𝑝𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑑𝑒𝑛𝑦 ℎ𝑖𝑚? So Res settles against Xaden's warmth again, tucking his head beneath his chin with a content breath. 𝑇ℎ𝑖𝑠... 𝑇ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑖𝑠 ℎ𝑜𝑚𝑒, 𝑟𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒, 𝑖𝑛 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑎𝑟𝑚𝑠.

   𝔏istening to the rhythmic beating of his heart and the steady breath in his lungs beneath his ear, his warmth enveloping him in its embrace, and his scent of mint and something between floral and citrus engulfing his senses until he is breathing Xaden Riorson, Res has never felt so safe, so whole.

   ℌe never wants to loose this, loose him. By Malek, he doesn't think he could survive loosing the other half of his entire being.

   "Xaden," the shadow wielder hums softly in acknowledgment, "𝑻𝒉𝒂 𝒕𝒉𝒖 𝒎𝒐 𝒅𝒉𝒂𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒊𝒈𝒉. 𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒏 𝒆𝒊𝒍 𝒎𝒊 𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒐𝒏 𝒅𝒐 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒍𝒍." ( you're my home. i don't want to loose you )

𝔛aden is quiet for a moment, and Reserras thought he heard his heart quicken, 𝑜𝑟 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑖𝑡 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑒? "𝑻𝒉𝒂 𝒕𝒉𝒐 𝒎𝒐 𝒅𝒉𝒂𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒊𝒈𝒉 𝒄𝒖𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒄𝒉𝒅. 𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒏 𝒖𝒓𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒏𝒏 𝒅𝒉𝒐𝒎𝒉 𝒅𝒐 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒊𝒅𝒊𝒓." ( you're my home too. i can't loose you either )

𝔚hen those gentle lips press a feather-light kiss to his head, Reserras knows this time, it is his heart that quickens.

𝑊ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑒𝑙𝑙 𝑑𝑜 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑑𝑜 𝑡𝑜 𝑚𝑒, 𝑋𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑛 𝑅𝑖𝑜𝑟𝑠𝑜𝑛?

__________•༻*✽*༺•__________

༻ 𝑨𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓'𝒔 𝑵𝒐𝒕𝒆 ༺

🤧 Resden is too cute, I can't 😭💖 First look into shadow hubby's mind 👀🖤 and he's completely smitten with my baby Ressy 😎 Sgaeyl and Ridoc are honestly my favorites, they're so funny 🤪