•𝟐.𝟒𝐊•

꧁•𖢻•༻*✽*༺•𖢻•꧂

꧁•𖢻•༻*✽*༺•𖢻•꧂

     𝕺nce classes 'twere over for the day, Res found himself sparring in the gym with Sawyer until dinner, now, Res stands in the rotunda before the bells rung for curfew in an hour, staring at the chiseled blue dragon shimmering in the golden light of dusk beaming through the glass roof.

ℌe's survived two encounters with blue dragons, the most ruthless of the seven dens. 𝐵𝑢𝑡 𝑤ℎ𝑦? He ponders. 𝑊ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑎𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑚𝑒 𝑖𝑠 𝑠𝑜 𝑑𝑎𝑚𝑛𝑒𝑑 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑚?

𝔜et he knows 'tisn't likely he ever will know, lest the blue in the valley decides to bond him.

𝔄 hum rumbles through his chest, brows creasing over brisk eyes. 'Tis maddening, it is.

𝔗hreshing 'tis in two days, he will either bond with a dragon, die in the field beneath the citadel, or remain as one of the unbonded cadets and repeat first year until Malek or a dragon claims him.

𝔄 shiver of dread trickles down his spine at the last thought.

𝐼'𝑑 𝑟𝑎𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑑𝑟𝑎𝑔𝑜𝑛𝑠 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑏𝑢𝑟𝑛 𝑚𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑛 𝑓𝑎𝑐𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 ℎ𝑢𝑚𝑖𝑙𝑖𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛.

𝔗he shimmering shadows suddenly ripple and swirl, slinking across the grey marble tiles to curl around his ankles. A softened smile blooms on Res' lips.

"I heard," Xaden joins his side. "A blue clubtail was in the valley."

𝔚ithout looking away from the marble dragon, Res nods, holding his wrist behind his back. "It approached me."

𝔛aden's onyx gaze snaps to him so damned quickly, Reserras 'twere honestly surprised a bone did not break. "What?"

ℌe shrugs, tearing his gaze away from the dragon to look into his shadow's curious eyes. "It must've smelled Sgaeyl as it was quite interested in my vest."

𝔗he golden flecks swirling amidst Xaden's onyx depths sparkle in the golden light of dusk as his chest rumbles with a hum, observing Res' figure for any unseen injuries.

𝔑one.

𝔗hough, he does notice a certain lack of navy-blue dragonscales, quirking a brow. "Which I notice you aren't wearing. Why?"

"Because its currently covered in dragon-snot."

𝔛aden snorts.

ℜes grins like a lovesick fool–𝐺𝑜𝑑𝑠, 𝐼 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑡 ℎ𝑖𝑚 𝑡𝑜 𝑠𝑚𝑖𝑙𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑜𝑓 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑑𝑎𝑦𝑠–then spares a glance at the marble statue again, and a line of thought creases his brows, "Did... Did Sgaeyl ever tell you why she suddenly wanted to meet me?"

"No," Xaden shakes his head. "It isn't that I haven't asked her, though."

ℜeserras hums, it truly 'tis a mystery then.

𝔚ith the mention of his she-dragon, Xaden 'tis reminded of why he sought his Ressy out–𝑎𝑠𝑖𝑑𝑒 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒 𝑏𝑦 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑠𝑖𝑑𝑒 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑢𝑡𝑒, 𝑜𝑓 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦 ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑟, 𝑜𝑓 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦 𝑑𝑎𝑦, 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑙𝑖𝑣𝑒𝑠.

𝔄nd so, holding Reserras' wrist, he tugs him along out of the rotunda and through the hidden tunnel unto the ridgeline above the citadel–the flight field.

   ℜes' dark brows quirk with curiosity, yet an amused smirk lifts the corner of his lips nonetheless, "Why are we here this time, Xae?"

   𝔗he wielder of shadows doesn't respond with words, merely throws his Ressy a mischievous smirk over his shoulder.

   ℜeserras scoffs in amusement.

   𝔈merging through a stretch of trees and towering bushes, Res immediately recognizes Sgaeyl, her navy scales glistening beneath the dappled moonlight spilling across the field.

   ℑn the distance, the Basgiath bells begin to ring, echoing through the valley.

   𝔗he blue daggertail blows a warm gust of pale steam from her flared nostrils, lowering her snout.

   "Although it took quite some time," 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑎 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑛𝑜 𝑐𝑜𝑙𝑑 𝑓𝑙𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡𝑠 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑎 𝑚𝑜𝑛𝑡ℎ, "to convince her, Sgaeyl will let you fly with me, just this once."

   ℜeserras blinks, "What?"

   𝔛aden snickers, his thumb brushing over Reserras' stuttering pulse, rubbing circles on his porcelain skin, whether entirely consciously or subconsciously, Res didn't know.

   "A-Are you sure?" Ahead of them, Sgaeyl chuffs. "I-I mean, isn't it forbidden?"

   𝔗he she-dragon releases a noise that sounds much like a scoff to Reserras' ears and he swears both Sgaeyl and Xaden mirror a smirk. "Nothing is forbidden to Sgaeyl and I."

   𝔇espite his doubts, Res finds a lopsided grin tilting the corner of his lips, 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑑 𝑏𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑟𝑑.

   𝔖gaeyl angles her foreleg for the young men, though, she 'twould never lower it–dragons never supplicate. If the pale one could not mount her, then he wouldn't survive Threshing in two days time.

   𝔗he heart within his chest thump, thump, thumps like the drumbeats of war with every step that brings him closer to the most ruthless of the dragons.

   𝐹𝑜𝑟𝑔𝑒𝑡 𝑤ℎ𝑦 𝑠ℎ𝑒 𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑜𝑤𝑒𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠, 𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡'𝑠 𝑡𝑜 𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑝 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑑𝑒𝑣𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑚𝑒?

   𝔅eside the she-dragon's foreleg, Xaden encloses his man's hand within his own and lifts it toward Sgaeyl's glittering scales, slowly but surely lowering Reserras' palm upon her foreleg.

   ℜeserras holds his breath the moment his skin meets her warm scales, awaiting for her fiery breath to melt the skin from his bones... but it never does.

   ℌe expels the breath, ℎ𝑒 𝑡𝑟𝑢𝑠𝑡𝑠 ℎ𝑒𝑟, 𝑠𝑜 𝐼 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑛𝑜 𝑐ℎ𝑜𝑖𝑐𝑒 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑡𝑜𝑜, 𝑎𝑠 𝑤𝑒𝑙𝑙.

   𝔖gaeyl blows another pummel of steam from her nostrils, and Reserras' heart hiccups. 𝑁𝑜𝑡 𝑑𝑒𝑎𝑑? He expels another breath. 𝑁𝑜𝑡 𝑑𝑒𝑎𝑑.

   "𝑮𝒂𝒃𝒉 𝒇𝒐𝒊𝒔, 𝑹𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒚," Xaden breathes beside his ear, and shivers tingle down his spine. "𝑻𝒉𝒂 𝒕𝒉𝒖 𝒂𝒈𝒂𝒎." ( relax ... i've got you )

   ℜeserras inhales the crisp air, holds it for several seconds, then slowly releases the breath.

   "Go on," Xaden encourages, his hand slipping away from Reserras' own–and he feels suddenly cold... they both do, even with the immense heat emitting from Sgaeyl's scales. "I'll be right behind you."

   𝑋𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑛 𝑡𝑟𝑢𝑠𝑡𝑠 ℎ𝑒𝑟, Res tells himself, then, with a final breath to steel his nerves, begins to climb the dragon's foreleg like he 'twere born to ride a glorious winged beast into battle.

   𝔗he golden blood of over a hundred dragon-riders before him swirls through his veins, igniting an inferno within his heart, the gods, themselves, having crafted his entire being for a single purpose... to burn.

   𝔖gaeyl's eyes trace the pale one climbing her foreleg, his every move graceful with a certain power behind it. She answers to neither the gods nor men, not even her own kin, but even she could not deny the greatness within this human.

   '𝔗is the very thing to intrigue her so.

   𝔚hilst Xaden 'tis all too occupied with staring at Reserras' sculpted ass, and she scoffs. "𝑄𝑢𝑖𝑡 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑚𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡, 𝑆ℎ𝑎𝑑𝑜𝑤𝑒𝑑 𝑂𝑛𝑒. 𝐼 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑜𝑛𝑙𝑦 𝑡𝑜𝑙𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑠𝑜 𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑔."

   𝔛aden blinks, then begins to climb her foreleg just as Reserras reaches her shoulder, lifting himself onto her back–lethal sapphire spikes he doesn't doubt could slice through stone ripple down her spine.

   𝑁𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑡 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑖𝑠 𝑑𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑐𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝑜𝑟 𝑠𝑜𝑓𝑡.

   𝔚ithin seconds, Xaden 'tis behind him, bringing Reserras over to the seat–where Sgaeyl's scales dip between her muscled shoulders–and lowering themselves into it.

   ℜes mirrors the way his shadow sits within the divot, his long legs curled beneath him with hardly a breath left between their bodies. "Uh, what should I hold onto?"

   "Whatever you can." Xaden smirks over his shoulder, "Preferably me."

   𝔚ith a huff, Reserras wraps an arm around Xaden's waist, 𝑠ℎ𝑎𝑚𝑒𝑙𝑒𝑠𝑠 𝑡𝑤𝑎𝑡.

   𝔗he she-dragon's muscles ripple beneath them as Sgaeyl unfurls her wings, glittering like a million little sapphire gems 'twere embedded within the leathery-translucence under the moonlight, and then with a great lurch... Reserras is flying.

   𝔄ll of the air within his lungs suddenly leaves him as Sgaeyl ascends into the clouds vertically, and Reserras throws his other arm around Xaden, lest he begin plummeting to his death, who just snickers.

   𝐺𝑜𝑑𝑠, 𝑖𝑡 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑙𝑠 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑚𝑦 𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑚𝑎𝑐ℎ 𝑖𝑠 𝑏𝑒𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑝𝑢𝑙𝑙𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑚𝑦 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑡.

   𝔊ravity tugs at his limbs like enraged claws, attempting to return him to the earth where all mortal beings belong. 'Tis defying the very gods, themselves, flying–𝑛𝑜 𝑤𝑜𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑟 𝑓𝑙𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑖𝑠𝑠𝑢𝑒 𝑎𝑛 𝑒𝑔𝑜.

   𝔄nd the wind tears at his cheeks, biting his ivory skin, but Reserras withholds the urge to tuck his face into Xaden's leathers, no, he couldn't miss a single second of this.

   𝔈very breath is a lungful of clouds, and every beat of his heart is Sgaeyl's thundering wings bending the very sky, itself, to her will, forcing it into submission.

   𝔄nd then, Sgaeyl breaks through the bout of clouds and Reserras gasps.

𝔗he frigid air 'tis utterly still, the whistling of the wind just gone. Everything else left beneath them, all of their burdens, all of their worries. The clouds glow below as the moon shone above.

𝔖gaeyl roars happily, and the great noise vibrates his belly.

𝑆𝑤𝑒𝑒𝑡 𝑀𝑎𝑙𝑒𝑘, 𝐼'𝑚 𝑓𝑙𝑦𝑖𝑛𝑔! 𝑂𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑚𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝑑𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑏𝑙𝑢𝑒𝑠, 𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑒𝑡ℎ𝑒-𝑓𝑢𝑐𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔-𝑙𝑒𝑠𝑠!

𝔉reely, and whole-heartedly, Reserras laughs. Truly. Xaden does too at the sweet sound.

𝔒h, there 'tis nothing like flying.

ℜeserras felt weightless, without burdens, like nothing could touch him so long as he 'twere amidst the clouds and the whispering wind.

ℌere, in this moment, in this hour, he is not Reserras Atonal, the third son of Resaron Atonal, the child of a separatist, he is just Reserras.

   𝔑othing more, nothing less.

   ℌow could he abandon this?

   𝔗he woes of the world could not touch him here, not with Xaden here, not with Sgaeyl carrying them over the clouds, over mountains, over forests, over the world.

ℌe looks up at the night sky, and wonders if perhaps he reaches his arm out far enough, could he touch the stars? He felt like he 'twere apart of the sky.

𝔖teadily, Reserras loosens his tense grip around Xaden's waist, resting his chin atop his shoulder. And he struggles to withhold a shy smile when he feels Xaden lean into him.

𝔖gaeyl begins to gently sway above the clouds, the tips of her wings slicing through the delicate softness, and Res wonders how often the dragons in the Wings with their riders could enjoy moments like these.

𝔐oments where they flew not into battle, but to do just this... fly.

𝔗hen, amidst the silence of the night, the sky comes alive before their very eyes with shimmering lights of bright green, purple, and blue swirls that seem to dance across the vast open sky.

𝔗heir lips fall agape, awestruck wonder glistening within their gazes. They were certain they had never seen anything quite so beautiful before, quite so extraordinary.

"Beautiful," Res says on a soft exhalation, softly. Sgaeyl trills beneath them.

𝔗he she-dragon floats through the clouds and Reserras sees the world from above for the first time–𝑎𝑛𝑑 ℎ𝑜𝑝𝑒𝑓𝑢𝑙𝑙𝑦, 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑙𝑎𝑠𝑡. 'Tis a slightly dizzying sight at first, but the soft rise and fall of Xaden's shoulders quells the rising nausea.

   ℌe breathes in through his nose, then slowly out his mouth, and the dizziness fades away.

   𝔅eneath them are hundreds of flickering lights and brick-roofed homes nestled within a valley beneath the shadow of the Basgiath Mountains. A border-village along the Luceras Province, Reserras recognizes.

𝔗he world seems so much quieter so far above the ground like they 'twere.

ℜes' eyes flutter close, long lashes brushing against his high cheekbones delicately.

𝔚ith nothing but the hush of air and the drum of Sgaeyl's wings to hear, Xaden and Reserras flew. All of their troubles left behind for those few short hours as they soared above Navarre.

ℌigh upon the mountains, where it seemed none 'twould ever find them even after a thousand years had passed, Sgaeyl lands with a great thud.

   𝔗he men dismount the she-dragon, climbing down her foreleg, then sit themselves upon the rocky edge of the steep mountainside whilst their feet dangle thousands of feet above the ground.

   𝔗he landscape stretches out before them in snow-peaked mountains for hundreds of miles, no structure of man to be seen in any direction. 'Tis beautiful, 'tis serene.

   𝔖gaeyl lowers herself onto the ground behind them, her chest rumbling contently, curling her body around the men with her snout beside Xaden.

   𝔄nd sitting like this, it reminds them of their balcony at Xaden's home. The balcony they 'twould sneak onto with an entire patter of chocolate cake to feast on as they watched the radiant stars above.

   ℑn this moment, they were not cadets, they were not sons of separatists, they were not soldiers in the war their parents began six years ago, they are simply Reserras and Xaden.

   𝔖hadows swirl and ripple around them–more powerful in the presence of Sgaeyl–cocooning the men and dragon within an embrace of soothing darkness.

𝔗he moon drips its silvery light upon their features, basking the men in an ethereal glow, as Sgaeyl's scales sparkle with her every breath, the ground rumbling beneath them with her every contented noise.

𝔗he frigid air begins to tingle their cheeks and noses. Reserras eagerly awaits the colder season, when snow 'twill fall from the sky and blanket the earth in glimmering white pelts.

"Xaden." He turns his onyx gaze to Reserras, the one he's always known. "Thank you."

𝔗he gold flecks within his eyes catch in the silver light when they soften, a grin blossoming upon his soft lips. "Consider it an early birthday gift."

ℜes snorts.

ℌe'd long since stopped celebrating his birthday–they all had–for the joy they once brought turned to bitter ashes in his mouth after the executions.

   𝔗hough, Xaden 'twould still greet Reserras every morning on October 7ᵗʰ with some gift for him. It only made Reserras love him more through the years.

   "You'll be flying beside us soon enough," Xaden smirks.

ℜes scoffs with a grin, pale irises dropping to his fidgeting hands upon his lap, "Maybe it'll be with that blue clubtail." Sgaeyl chuffs behind them, the spiked-tip of her tail flicking on the cliffside.

𝔗hey share a soft laugh, gazes softening when their eyes meet, then velvety shadows slither around Res' lithe waist, tugging him into Xaden's side.

ℑt 'tweren't even a thought, but an instinct as Res closes the distance between them and nestles himself against Xaden, tucking his head beneath his chin, sighing blissfully.

𝐺𝑜𝑑𝑠, 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑚𝑎𝑛 𝑖𝑠 𝑎 𝑑𝑎𝑚𝑛𝑒𝑑 𝑓𝑢𝑟𝑛𝑎𝑐𝑒.

   ℜes didn't notice Xaden withhold a smirk.

   𝔜et the cold 'twould've seeped into the both of them 'twere it not for the heat emitting from Sgaeyl, her navy scales radiating warmth as pale wisps of smoke rise from her nostrils.

   ℭlosing his eyes, Reserras cherishes this moment between them, basking in the moonlight as Xaden gifts to him the vulnerable man only very few 'twere ever granted the sight of.

   𝔄nd silently promises to himself, to Xaden, he 'twill protect and cherish that man, always.

   𝔗hey 'twould not return to the harsh reality awaiting them at Basgiath until the hour before dawn.

__________•༻*✽*༺•__________

༻ 𝑨𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓'𝒔 𝑵𝒐𝒕𝒆 ༺

Short and sweet, ☺️.

Now, its time for Threshing, 😏.