Chapter 5: Dragon and Dragon Part One (Patreon)

Cedric Lux was tired, more so now as he sat in his typical straight-backed chair; his eyes locked forward on the current speaker of the Council. His son’s training and efforts that morning had been decent enough, he supposed, but there were still fundamentals the boy was working on grasping.

More time would fix that; the real question was how much more time they would have.

He was in a circular room, his chair positioned among a circle of other chairs, all far more elaborate in style, grown from the wooden floor beneath their feet as they sat underneath the whispering green leaves above them, positioned as they were high in the sky amongst the branches of the Lone Tree.

The speaker was a human woman with long blonde hair tied in braids about her head and passionate blue eyes. Phyli Earnst, her mother’s mother, and her family had arrived in Haven over a century ago, fleeing a skirmish that he could remember mostly by the scent of blood and smoke in the air and little else.

“-while Haven is still self-sufficient in the near term,” the woman was saying, looking down with a furrowed brow at the documents before her, “I must emphasize that if we continue to export foodstuffs to the Great Plains in the current amounts, our stores will continue to slowly deplete; it’s not sustainable.”

“The Great Plains need those supplies,” an older, beautiful blonde-haired woman said gruffly, human at first glance if it wasn’t for her golden eyes, whose pupils had slit momentarily. “Haven’s never let children starve if we could help it.”

“But Lady Eld,” an elven council member spoke up, Philo Olin the Third of that name, his ears twitching underneath a curtain of ebony black hair. Their motions were vibrating with a small amount of frustration.

 “How long can we be expected to bear the brunt of their poor management, the Great Plains could certainly spend some of their own resources to develop themselves toward some level of self sufficiency and our own citizenry would be thankful to have their burden lessened.”

Eld cocked an almost amused eyebrow at Philo, and Cedric restrained a small smile, leaning back in his chair as he watched in interest.

“That’s certainly be difficult to do considering that last I heard the Chieftains are in the midst of another civil war,” Eld said, ruby red lips turned up in amusement as she tossed her golden mane of hair back.

“A war that we could end,” Phyli said quietly, drumming her fingers along her chair, “If perhaps we had the Temple Knights send an envoy.”

A quiet passed through the air as gazes flickered toward Cedric Lux, and the man rubbed his brow, attempting to push his fatigue away for just a moment. “We can consider it,” he admitted, his voice low, grinding out through the air, “But the use of force in that situation may not be helpful. If the people of the Great Plains haven’t decided who will rule them, I doubt we can make that choice for them.”

Hums and sighs echoed throughout the air, but Cedric felt the general thrum through the wood of his chair, letting him know his words had reached them.

Philo spoke again, “The people-” he hesitated at the word before shaking his head, “I am also reading reports of the Lonely Shores; the Clans that have settled there have sent word that they have seen strange things in the seas.”

There was a moment of rustling of papers as the rest of the Council flipped through their papers in front of them, searching for the reports Philo had spoken of.

“Yes,” Eld nodded her head thoughtfully, “I saw that too; it’s passing strange, isn’t it? From the reports, you’d almost think there’s a Leviathan about.”

Philo chuckled at Eld’s words, shaking his head, though several other laughs rang out, Eld did not join them. Philo calmed himself, smiling softly at Eld, “That would be strange indeed, considering that the First’s deal with those beasts has long held that the ocean belongs to them while the shores do to us.”

He turned to Cedric, raising an amused eyebrow, “What say you, Cedric? Do you believe your great ancestors' treaty has fallen through?”

The eyes of the room once again centered on Cedric, and he stroked his beard for a moment, “It’s possible,” he said and the amusement in the room died down instantly, then he shrugged, “But there’s little from the reports to know if there is any truth to it, I’ll dispatch some Temple Knights if the Council believes it should be investigated.”

Philo frowned, looked at Eld, then at Phyli, who had raised a hand over her drink, letting loose a chilling wave of red magic to cool it down further.

“Perhaps that would be for the best,” he said, and murmurs of agreement spread through the circle.

Cedric did not say more. They were a harsh people, but there were Elves among them, which meant that they had once been people who came from the Lone Tree and as such were the responsibility of the Firstborn.

Though given the Council’s not exactly ecstatic agreement, Cedric considered that no one here besides him truly appreciated that duty, not a drop of silver among the lot.

His lips scowled beneath his beard as he idly thumbed his athame strapped to his leg as the meeting and general discussion continued, until an eyebrow raised on his face, an expression he let through purposely as he heard the mention of First Home.

Humans, he restrained a scoff, crossing his arms still as Phyli Earnst spoke, “There is significant concern in reports I have read that with no mediation, the Northern border that First Home shares with the Caedreans will become conflicted once more; perhaps a delegation of Temple Knights could see to it,” Earnst looked at him, serious, soulful blue eyes.

Cedric frowned, portraying a face of grave thought. “Sending a delegation with a large number of Temple Knights would just make them think we want a skirmish,” he said, as if he was thinking. “Perhaps only one Temple Knight; there are several who’ve chosen to serve as the Head Mages for the Haven Institutes Circles.”

“You wish to send a Circle instead?” Earnst looked dismayed. “Won’t the Caedreans then just expect a covert operation?”

The air suddenly became quieter, focus turning entirely on Cedric.

Cedric grimaced visibly, letting the other think him in thought, “A whole delegation of Temple Knights would scare them too much, but one Temple Knight as the head of a Circle can also just be routine magical research.”

“And if they’re attacked, we’ll be forced to respond,” said Eld, her golden eyes slitting momentarily; she looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

“Eld,” Cedric acknowledged casually, purposely acknowledging only the woman’s lineage, “Perhaps then it would be best that whoever we send will be a deterrent to that event?” he replied, amusement curling his lips.

Eld scowled visibly at him. “You want to send my daughter's team?” she replied, and the air froze; no other sounds could now be heard; all side conversations ceased.

Cedric shrugged casually, “I’m positive any team accompanied by my son will be sufficiently protected in case the Caedreans forget themselves.”

Phyli Earnst choked, looking between them, “You’re going to send a-“ Cedric’s eyes fell on her, and her tone immediately lowered, “-a Sinbearer? How is that not worse than sending a delegation of Temple Knights? Flame, even a Century of Rifles with several Circles would be better.”

Cedric regarded Earnst lazily, contemplating the merits of responding to a woman whose entire lifespan fit within a fragment of Cedric’s own.

“He’s my son and the Caedreans there will know what that means; I don’t think they’ll be particularly willing to kill Ulric’s Grandson,” he stated, and then his lips twisted down in a serious frown, “And my Sister would make them pay if they did so.”

It was as if the air had frozen as the people in the room looked at him. The room settled into a restrained silence, but then the discussion once again moved on, the matter as usual now fully settled.

Cedric idly rolled his glass, watching as the amber liquid sloshed around inside, his mind once again settling back to its own devices, even as the yawning tiredness pressed at his mind again.

-

Ilsa yawned seemingly lazily as she stood by one of Haven’s gates once again, the early morning air slightly chilly on her face; she regarded the glowing blue light within the center of the red metal, idly sending a flare of her own magic through before feeling it twist and warp away.

Skadi was little more than a slumped figure swaying next to her, desperately trying to stay awake as her hands were curled around a thermos filled with a thick, black, pungent liquid that Ilsa had made for her friend in a futile effort to help Skadi stay awake.

Her ears flicked idly as her gaze returned to watching Godric, straight-backed, proud against the world, his face set in that ever neutral expression that she absolutely despised.

Ilsa considered herself a calm, reasonable person, but she truly absolutely hated Godric Lux.

His well-defined jaw, his piercing silver eyes, that small sliver of pain that remained in her mind whenever she was near him, and the weight of his clouded thoughts.

It was like walking on one of the freezing peaks of the mountains around them, nature at its coldest, its most pitiless, and its most beautiful.

It was painful to admit to her what the selective generations of each son of his line had created, but Ilsa could at least be honest with herself.

Godric looked at the world like he wasn’t the cause of all its pain, and she truly, deeply hated him for it.

None of them would be here if it wasn’t for him.

Deir would not be suffering silence as she looked after her ungrateful nephew.

Tol would still have her parents.

Skadi would not desperately look at him as if he held all her answers.

Even the lizard would not be broken-hearted as the man she had fallen in love with pushed her away.

Ilsa’s ears flicked idly as she continued looking at Godric.

Godric’s silver eyes flicked to her own, and they locked gazes for a couple of moments before he looked away, his silver darkening to a cloudy grey.

Whatever had passed through his mind had pained him, Ilsa realized.

Good.

What right did he have to stand there while his monster of a Father held Haven in the palm of his hand, preparing himself dutifully to be the weapon his Father wanted?

Temple Knight? Weapon of oppression, the ones who dictated the Northern Continent, those who held the Caedreans back, as if one of their own did not lead them, Ulric, the man who cheerfully turned battlefields into slaughters.

Deir arrived, her face set into a smile, though Ilsa could feel her distress.

“Today won’t be gathering or a hunt,” she said, releasing a deep breath, “We’ve been tasked by the Council to be a delegation to First Home to meet with the Caedreans to resolve a border dispute First Home is having with them.”

Ilsa could barely restrain her snarl, but it didn’t show on her face; while she had no real love for Haven’s Council and their seeming love for eternal conflicts and wars, she had less love for the Caedreans.

Together they walked to the Gate, and Ilsa felt the keystone marker through the current of Blue Magic before she disappeared, formless and indistinct for a moment before she reappeared in the afternoon sun, a far cry from the weak morning light they had been having in Haven.

-

Ethel took a deep breath of the sea air, ignoring the faint familiar feeling of home that sprang up in her chest as she did so.

They had appeared on the worn stone circle set amongst the grey rocks of a beach upon which ocean blue waves gently lapped. A long stone road stretched out in several directions from the massive slab of stone, but Ethel’s eyes were naturally drawn to First Home in the distance.

Even from this far out, it looked to be a massive city of smooth grey stone, massive circular constructs drawn from the ground in towers behind a large, imposing wall. Out from the side of the city were pillars of equally grey stone that reached out into the sea upon which flocks of ships drifted about in fluttering pale white sails.

The call of gulls and the salt of the sea scented the air and her heart, rapidly skittered through her chest because even though she had grown in Haven her whole life, it was hard not to look at where Humanity had first arrived on the continent and not feel that this instead was where she belonged.

Even if she wasn’t really human.

Ethel sucked in a small breath, letting the sea air fill her lungs, a familiarity to it as she looked out across the waves that supposedly some of her ancestors had sailed long ago.

Her golden hair whipped about in the wind as she stepped off the platform onto the smooth path of stone below, evidently molded smooth with magic from how the rock felt to her senses. As she stepped across them, she felt the spirits within the stone poking and prodding at her mind in ancient memories of other life that had once traversed here.

She blinked slitted eyes for a moment before they became human-like again.

She glanced to the side against her better judgment and caught sight of Godric walking across the stone as well, his eyes focused on the city; his face slackened slightly in awe.

Her chest twisted uncomfortably.

Hers. Not Hers. Make Hers.

Her golden eyes slitted again and she looked away, attempting to massage the painful knot in her chest.

That bastard.

Deir took the lead of their group with casual confidence, and they walked for some tens of minutes along the wide path, evidently to allow for the transportation of good’s as well, growing closer and closer to the massive walls of the city until they arrived at a massive swung-open steel gate where a group of city guards dressed in green cloth jackets stood with the wooden stocks of their rifles clenched in somewhat uncertain grips as they regarded them.

The lead human guard stepped forward; he had dark hair and a bristly beard to go with it as he regarded them with an easy smile. He dipped his head to Deir, “It’s good to see a Temple Knight; we were afraid that one may not make the journey.”

Deir smiled easily at him, “Not to worry. Haven got your message, and we are here to help.”

The man nodded, a relieved smile on his face, “Please come inside; I’ll take you to our Council.”

He turned and walked through the gate, and the Circle followed after him, entering the massive stone city together.

It was a city of cold grey stone, seemingly torn from the ground itself with the assistance of Red Magic, before being shaped by Green Magic into the homes they were now. But as cold and grey as the stone was, there was still humanity in massive amounts.

The streets were crowded with carts selling what looked like all kinds of fish, massive one’s at that, large silver bellies opened up to allow their guts to be drained.

There were other stalls as well selling glimmering gemstones, in shades of red, blue, and even a clear white diamond carved intricately with what seemed to be glyphs, their vendors shouting about how they would protect from all but the most vile or powerful of spells.

Ethel sniffed her nose, filling with the familiar scent of tightly grouped humanity, and her eyes watered slightly until, unthinkingly, instinctively, she locked her nose onto Godric, and she stepped in closer to him.

If one could take the essence of nature and remove all the unpleasant scents, leaving only those best suited for that person, Ethel still didn’t think it would be comparable to how Godric smelled.

Safe. Protection. Comfort.

Her heart thundered in her chest, her normally slow pulse turning almost human rapid, sending dizzying currents of warmth throughout her.

Bastard.

They passed through the market and drifted by several quarters of what could only be homes, richly appointed from the outside in trails of gold and silver woven throughout the stone, in protective ward signals.

Ethel found herself wondering what exactly it would take to breach the sides of one of the houses; would a regular spell of flame work, or would she need a catalyst?

They passed through another ring, entering into a circular courtyard, whereupon an open-air building was set up made up of grey stone pillars constructed in a circular manner around what looked to be an amphitheater.

They stepped across the cobblestone and walked up the steps to look down inside to see an assembly of human men and women dressed in well-tailored suits with long-tailed coats of a variety of hues. Talking quietly in the gorgeous marble room that was filled with massive stone etchings detailing serpents, trolls, and what looked like ships, engraved in painstaking detail throughout.

Distinct from them was a dark-haired woman with angry-looking golden eyes who had her rifle at rest over her shoulder.

Ethel’s eyes met the woman’s instinctively, and they glared at each other, and despite her better judgment, Ethel drew closer to Godric.

A well-groomed man with a thick black mustache and spectacles perched precariously on his nose nodded at the others in the direction before he turned to look seriously at Deir. “Ah, the delegation from Haven, I suspect?” he asked.

Deir inclined her head. “Deir, Daughter of Alphir.” The man’s eyes widened in shock.

“Truly? Alphir, wife of Ulric?”

The room froze, and Ethel turned to look with surprise at their Head Mage; the man couldn’t mean that the way he said that.

Godric’s eyes had narrowed at Deir, and for the first time in a long time Ethel saw a frown appear on his face; then his eyes flicked away, and he said nothing.

Deir nodded, her expression still bland; the man shook his head, looking shocked. “I did not think that Haven took this matter so seriously; this heartens us.”

Deir jabbed a thumb at Godric, “They sent Cedric Lux’s son, of course they did.”

The man nearly choked as he nodded rapidly, his eyes flickering uncomprehendingly over Godric; he laughed, “I suppose then we are safe, not a thing to fear from the Caedreans is there?” he turned to look, smiling at the other men; some of them looked relieved, but several of them frowned and one spoke up.

“Is that not,” he hesitated, his eyes flicking to an emotionless Godric, “Dangerous?” he said.

Deir raised an eyebrow at the man. “How many Rifles did the Caedreans send?” she asked bluntly.

The man frowned and glanced at a woman who was dressed in a long dark green coat, straps crossed over her back that held a rifle. “Sara, what were the numbers reported by our scouts?”

Sara shrugged, her face bland. “Five thousand Rifles, Several Squads of artillery, we think ten Mage Circles Counciler.”

The man scowled; “It’s already a tense situation in that regard; we must not escalate.”

“Escalate further,” Deir drawled out, “If it pleases your Council, we’d like to know in your own words why we were brought here.”

The man nodded and then coughed into his palm. “I am Councilor Bottoms of the Sapphire Company,” he said shortly before bowing a bit. “We manage the transportation of the city, and as such I see to our representation on our Council,” he smiled faintly.

Ethel barely managed to restrain a snort at the man’s name, childishness shunting away only due to her mother’s training.

The other Councilors continued in rapid succession.

“Councilor Long,” said an older grey-haired one with narrowed features, smiling pleasantly, causing his face to wrinkle, his hands bracing themselves along the cane he held in a weathered grip.

“Councilor Hartford,” said a middle-aged red-haired woman, whose beauty remained astounding by the pleasant smile on her face, though Ethel noted uncomfortably that her eyes had focused onto Godric in interest.

“I am Councilor Geren,” the youngest of the men standing there said, a smile on his face that the blonde man obviously thought of as suave; he had blonde hair and even features, and Ethel noted his magic felt decently strong, though in truth it was only so for his relative age; the rest of the Councilors were far stronger.

She noted how his eyes flicked to her for a brief second, and she had to restrain an uncomfortable flinch, though it did not stop her from drawing closer to Godric again. Godric remained stoically standing there, and it could have been her imagination, but his eyes seemed colder than usual as he regarded the human who spoke.

“So tell me what exactly has occurred,” Deir said, her arms crossed, a pleasant smile on her face.

Eyes flickered about, and Ethel noted many of them went to Geren almost nervously.

Councilor Gerent seemed to decide to take that as his cue to speak first, “Well there’s not much we learned before we sent for you, the thing is the Caedreans have set up an encampment only some tens of leagues away from us. They’re still on their side of the border but-“ he smiled in seemingly a helpless way, “With their history you know it doesn’t take a lot for them to decide that the time is ripe for another expansionist push.”

Deir nodded her head, smiling pleasantly, but something about it seemed off to Ethel.

The discussion devolved further into extraneous details, but Ethel sniffed and rolled her eyes quietly, turning away to focus on other things.

These Stupid Fucks.

-

Godric frowned as he stood with one arm crossed across his chest, the other flipping through a worn novel of a trashy romance he had long outgrown. Even if he had defended it to Tol, he came back to it in these quiet moments when he was trying not to think.

‘I mean it wouldn’t be wrong to be upset, Godric-‘ the creature next to him said as she licked her paws.

The night air clutched around him as he stood on the outside of the quarters they had been given, some home or another with plenty of bedrooms but not quite enough space.

‘Or even more then upset, she lied to you, maybe by omission, but-‘

“Kid,” Godric consciously turned his head back to the doorway to look at a visibly awkwardly scowling Deir.

Godric contemplated turning back to his book just to be petty and show her how little he cared for whatever bullshit she was going to feed him.

Though truly it wasn’t like he was just mad at her; if Cedric were in front of him, he might see if he could finally beat the man into the ground through nothing but sheer aggression.

It didn’t help that Cat, as he now called his demon, though specifically not a name, had been whispering in his ear this entire time more and more creative ways to express his displeasure.

“Deir,” he cocked his head to the side, examining her, “Are we needed somewhat?”

Deir flinched, but she squared her shoulders, and Godric smelled a faint whiff of alcohol on her breath. “I should have told you sooner,” she said quietly, “That’s on me; it just didn’t seem to be a good time. You don’t know me.”

“Why?” Godric said the words escaping his lips against his own will, looking at her with a raised eyebrow.

She looked confused at him, “What?”

“Why don’t I know you?” Godric grimaced, committing, “I’ve never had any family aside from my Father, I mean,” Godric shook his head bewildered, “Why even by my Head Mage I mean at this point just commit, who the fuck are you,” he spat out, and Deir startled back in shock.

Godric grimaced, and his gut sank, and he shook his head unaware of what had come over him; well, he was aware, but still, “Sorry,” he murmured, shaking his head, “I should have handled that more appropriately.”

Deir took a deep breath. “Godric,” she said quietly, “I am truly sorry. Please believe me, there is nothing I want to do more than tell you everything. I’ve wanted to do so since I first saw you.”

Godric raised an eyebrow at her, gesticulating to the obvious.

Deir shook her head, frowning, “But it’s complicated; there are secrets that aren’t mine to tell; there are things I want to say to you that you wouldn’t believe.”

“Like what?” Godric sighed, shaking his head. “What could I not believe?”

“Your Father-“ Deir hesitated, “What do you think of him?”

Godric crossed his arms in front of his chest, raising an eyebrow at her. “He’s Commander of the Temple Knights, your superior. What do you think of him?”

Deir flinched back, and guilt stirred in Godric’s gut again; he didn’t like this, but he had to make sure.

Cat became still on his shoulder. ‘Where’d that come from?’

Godric ignored Cat again. “Huh, that’s kind of what I thought. I was thinking you were a rank climber,” he shook his head, amused despite himself before locking eyes on Deir finally nailing what had been bothering him with this new information, “You’re his sister, I don’t know you, you’re a Temple Knight of reasonable rank, but you’ve been assigned to lead a Circle, my Circle,” he visibly was silent for a moment as he finished the last detail to himself, that Cedric his father said this was a personal favor, “What does he have on you?” he crossed his arms looking seriously at Deir.

Deir shook her head; her eyes widened in shock. “No, it’s not like that. I didn’t do anything.”

Godric blinked, confused. “What?”

Deir invaded his body space and pressed her palms on his shoulders as she stared up at him, her silver eyes wide. “Please, you have to believe me, I’m not a criminal.”

Godric cocked his head to the side, now even more confused. “No, I don’t think you are, but you’re obviously someone with an agenda. When I know your opinion of my Father, I’ll know where you stand.”

Deir slowly reached into her robes, pulling out her athame and generating a small curtain of white energy on her blade, the light flowing softly in the darkness even as it illuminated their faces in harsh relief, and Godric’s gut caught at the offer.

“My name is Deir, Daughter of Alphir, Half-Sister to Cedric Lux. You’re” she hesitated, biting the word hard, “Aunt. Officially, I’m not close enough to the patrilineal line to be able to demand any interaction with you. I’ve been waiting almost two decades to talk to you, Godric Lux. As to my feelings, I am worried about my Half-Brother; I am worried he is going to drag us into another war with the Caedreans, I am scared he will sacrifice your life to destroy them.”

Godric waited, making sure his face remained impassive even as his eyes focused on the barrier Deir was holding, not a single flicker; she was telling the truth, or at least what she thought of it.

“Is my life not his to spend?” Godric asked, his voice stale.

Deir grit her teeth, and she shook her head viciously, “No, Godric.”

Godric’s eyes remained on the solid blade of softly glowing white.

He released a small breath, looking at Deir with a small smile. “Well, that’s a lot to take in,” he rubbed his chin thoughtfully to try and gain a moment to just think.

“Dad literally selected you,” he said, shaking his head. “Why the flame would he select someone like you to be my Head Mage?”

“Because according to him, there was no one better to teach you,” the blade remained on, “other than himself. He said there was nothing I could say to you that would change your mind, so he would make use of my talents regardless.”

“Huh,” Godric shook his head, a small flicker of amusement going through him, “That does sound like him.” he nodded his head thoughtfully; he then smiled, “So what’s the deal with the other four then, your best and brightest?”

“Tol, Ilsa, and Skadi, yes,” Deir nodded her head, “Ethel, no.”

“Yeah, Dragon doesn’t like to follow orders, does she?” Godric nodded his head along in thought, “So what’s your offer? Why should I betray my father?”

“Not betray,” Deir shook her head, “I just don’t want you to spend your life for him.”

“Yeah, whatever. What’s the offer?” Godric crossed his arms.

Deir visibly took a breath, “I’m not here on behalf of the Caedreans or Ulric; all I want is for you to abandon Haven as it’s abandoned you; you don’t have to be their weapon, you can be free.”

Godric sighed, and his lips formed into a natural grimace as the woman looked at him seriously; silver eyes plaintively softened. It could even be real.

“I’m sorry,” he admitted, “But you know I can’t do that. I’m a Firstborn, the city that flamin’ tree their what I was born to protect. My Father’s not perfect,” he chuckled wryly, his most recent healing scars from this morning twitching with the movement, “But he’s the only thing standing between Haven and the Caedreans, if I leave Haven dies.”

“Haven?” Deir exclaimed, her eyes widening, “What has Haven done for you but beaten, stomped, and hit you whenever it could? The people treat you like trash or fear you. Why would you fight for them?”

Godric sighed, looking sympathetically at Deir. “It’s not about me,” he said quietly. “It’s not even about Haven If I leave Haven, there’s going to be another war. You see these people,” he gestured outward at the stone surrounding them, “If I’m not here, the Caedreans will attack, and people will die, and then-“ he looked at her with a raised eyebrow, “Someone’s going to unleash a Sin and another child is going to be used to seal it. My Father already told me why I had to come here.”

“What?” Deir mumbled, looking at Godric with silver eyes that could not have opened wider.

Godric smiled, “I want to be a Temple Knight. Just because I don’t agree with everything my Father does doesn’t mean I don’t see his reasons. The existence of Godric Lux was created to be a deterrent. I’m fine with that.”

And he was.

-

Skadi wished she was asleep. Fuck. She wished she was asleep.

Yawning heavily as she stepped heavily toward moisture, a moist throat, and returned slumber, paused as she felt Godric’s form in the darkness.

Instead, much to the distress of her rapidly tumbling heart, she was standing over Godric, a blanket clutched in her grip, as the boy leaned back, completely asleep, on the couch.

Completely defenseless, I mean, seriously, he was just right there.

His head was cocked back, dry, chapped red lips from small, quiet breaths, his mouth slightly open.

Skadi took a breath to steady herself. Then another one. Then one after that, and finally, slowly, she unfurled the blanket and tried to set it gently on Godric’s chest.

In the next second, she had been tackled, a silvery white blade generating off his forearm shearing cleanly through his sleeve in a flash as blearily silver eyes held it to her throat before they widened and the blade vanished.

“Skadi,” he mumbled and then frantically rolled back, his mouth open in shock, “I’m so sorry,” he shook his head horrified, “I didn’t mean to do-“

Skadi held up a hand, slowly sitting up from the floor with what she hoped was a gentle smile on her face. “It’s fine, Godric, I guess I startled you,” she whispered quietly, her usual nerves having left her as she attempted to comfort the teen.

Godric shook his head. “No, that wasn’t okay. I’m sorry, Skadi.”

Even if Skadi hadn’t made a study of the boy, she would have seen the obvious guilt and distress on his face.

And she didn’t know what to do.

“Do you want a hug?” The words escaped her lips before she even thought them.

Godric blinked, looking at her, seemingly befuddled. “What?” he said.

“No,” Skadi shook her head, her eyes widening in shock. “I mean, like, a hug, you know, um, you seem distressed.”

Godric looked at her with blank silver eyes, completely bewildered, which made Skadi nervous, which made her talk more. “No, I mean, oh wow, this is like seriously, I didn’t mean to make things weird, you just seemed, I don’t know, uh, like you weren’t doing very well and my Mom always said when people weren’t doing well that hugs made them feel better but now I’m realizing that’s a seriously weird thing to say to a teenage boy as a teenage girl and-“

Godric blinked and then smiled softly at her, which made Skadi’s own cheeks flush against her will as she continued to make odd assorted sounds she didn’t know how to qualify before trailing off.

“Thanks for the offer, Skadi. I appreciate it,” he hesitated and then, as if he couldn’t believe himself, he nodded. “I could actually use one now that you mention it,” he said quietly, looking away, his cheeks reddening, and Skadi’s heart clenched as she heard the edge of shame in his tone.

Skadi nodded and then slowly crawled to her knees and then moved toward Godric, pausing, looking at him, attempting to make sure he was still okay with this before she gently reached around him and wrapped her arms against him, her heart sinking as she felt the small but violent twitch that went through him.

“Ah, sorry,” Godric said again, “That wasn’t- anything, just an involuntary reaction.”

And Skadi knew where it was from, because who in Haven that actually had eyes wouldn’t know.

Her eyes began to get a bit wet and warm, and she leaned her chin onto Godric's shoulder, taking a deep breath — even as she realized she'd definitely made a mistake with this position, which had pressed her chest fully flat against him, closer than she'd meant to get, not that she really regretted it but maybe it was too much but she hadn't been thinking and—

Godric lifted a singular arm and wrapped it gently around her lower back, and a low thrum went through her as she felt the strength and warmth of his limb.

Skadi realized she needed to talk, to respond, to say anything, “It’s okay, I know you wouldn’t hurt me.”

Skadi felt Godric stiffen against her, and she heard his breath catch.

“I wouldn’t-“ Godric hesitated before he shook his head minutely, “I don’t want to hurt anyone,” he murmured quietly.

“I know,” Skadi said. “It’s okay; you didn’t scare me.”

Godric shook his head again. “I’m sorry,” he repeated.

Skadi hugged him a bit tighter before cautiously shifting to the side, shifting herself to sit by him, still hugging him, now from the side. “Do you want to talk about it?” she asked.

Godric hesitated, visibly, very unlike the boy she knew. “I, it’s not an excuse, just sometimes when I’m dreaming people chase and you know-“ he shook his head, taking another unsteady breath, “they hit me, I guess, and I don’t know I’m just scared and I want it to-” he shook his head, his cheeks flushing and his eyes averting, “stop.”

He rubbed his right pectoral muscle softly. “I know it’s silly,” he said after a long moment, “I mean it’s not like it would even hurt me for long, I recover pretty quickly even if I can’t heal.”

Skadi wanted to cry. She wanted to break down and press her face against his chest as she held him, and she wanted to slit the throats of everyone who had ever even looked at the silver-haired and eyed boy with even a moment of malice in their gaze.

“It’s not,” Skadi.

Godric shrugged, coughing a bit awkwardly. “I- can you not mention it to anyone?” he hesitated. “Please?” he mumbled.

Skadi wanted to say something, anything, to show that it wasn’t right; how could the boy who had given her a name be treated like this?

She nodded her head quietly, and after a moment of hesitation, leaned her head on his shoulder.

-

Godric woke with a start, his eyes widening as he felt a soft but strangely comfortable warmth on him. He looked down to see Skadi splayed halfway across him, breathing small, light breaths.

Godric didn’t consider himself an expert on people, but Skadi was really rather strange, and the more he encountered of her, the more that it became solid in his mind.

But the part of him experiencing his first hug in… well, he was certain he had been hugged by someone, maybe Dragon, back when the girl had chased after him, smiling her cheerful, bright smile; well, that part of him felt oddly warm.

He didn’t quite get that either; most people, when they physically got close to him outside of a fight, made him flinch.

Why didn’t Skadi?

There was something clutched in her palm, he realized, the dark black object he had seen before.

Glancing at it momentarily, he contemplated taking a closer look; it was just so oddly familiar.

But she was holding it so tightly he’d have to pry her fingers away to look, and regardless, that didn’t feel right; whatever it was, it was important to her.

It was early, he noted by the fact that it was still rather dark out; he glanced back at Skadi, who was dead asleep on his chest.

If Dragon saw this, he was absolutely sure she would set First Home, a place of stone buildings, aflame.

But he also couldn’t just leave her here.

With slow hands, he rolled Skadi and reached underneath her knees, shifting her braid of black hair away as he picked her up.

Skadi mumbled something quietly and turned to press her face against his chest, and Godric froze, waiting to see if he had woken her up.

He remained there for a minute that slowly ticked by, and as she hadn’t woken, he walked with careful steps to the room he had heard her enter last night, walking into somehow an already slightly messy room, with several outfits arranged about, fully complete as if she had been attempting to determine which she would wear.

He walked up to the bed and laid Skadi down, but as he tried to retreat, her hands fastened tightly onto his shirt.

“Godric,” she mumbled quietly, “Where are you going?”

Godric stared at the girl, confused; her heart rate was the same, and all of her bodily functions coincided with what he believed sleep was.

Right, he realized; she was asleep. She talked in her sleep?

An odd warm sensation flushed through him as he looked down at her; it was cute, the girl who, on first impression, was solemn cool darkness, and on second absolutely fumbling over herself at any given moment talked in her sleep.

He settled her down on the bed, ignoring the soft, displeased hiss as she was removed from him, shaking his head again.

He stepped out of the room only to have to twitch his head to the side as a blue blade jutted out, slicing a small notch in the wooden walls, and Ilsa stood staring up at him with a cool look.

“What were you doing?” she asked calmly.

Godric regarded Ilsa calmly, his mind settling from the strange sensation earlier to his more normal thoughts. “Skadi fell asleep in the living room,” he said, “I put her into her bed.”

“I want to do a thought check,” Ilsa said calmly, “If you wouldn’t mind.”

Godric shrugged, preventing himself from frowning if only barely; he held out an open palm, and Ilsa drew her athame before a small curtain of blue energy surrounded the hilt, and then she tapped it against Godric’s head.

“Skadi fell asleep; I just put her to bed,” Godric said calmly, letting his mind flow rapidly to Skadi asleep, then carrying her here.”

Ilsa withdrew her hilt and frowned, now looking a bit uncomfortable. “Sorry,” she said quietly, “I guess I should have trusted you; that was,” she hesitated, looking away, “unbecoming of me.”

Godric nodded and then turned to walk away, not having to say anything in reply; he had finally seen her mask slip, and it brought him a small degree of comfort.

They assembled together that morning and were given their instructions; not truly to Godric’s surprise.

“I’ve decided we’re going to go meet with the Cadreans.” Deir smiled cheerfully.

Dragon frowned, crossing her arms. “I didn’t realize Temple Knights had that authority?” She glared at Deir, though to Godric’s eyes it was just a normal look.

Deir smiled and tapped her white half cloak idly. “I have Council authorization; we’d rather keep things peaceful.”

He hadn’t been the only one surprised; he had seen Skadi’s eyes widen while a small pout pursed her lips. Ilsa had not so much as made a twitch; a pleasant smile on her face.

Tol’s ears had perked up, and she had finally slipped away from her book, though her eyes were focused wearily on Dragon.

Dragon… did not react.

Ethel, whose face had been in a frown since she had entered the room, merely continued to frown. “Well?” she asked. “No time like the present.”

Even though they were given a map yesterday of where the Caedreans had camped, such would not have been needed to see the dull cloud of smoke coming up only a couple of miles to the North.

Godric would have preferred to run to the encampment if he were by himself, but Tol took it upon herself to animate several rock constructions of horses from the ground to carry them.

The fact that it allowed Tol to continue to read her book was likely immaterial, though with how she could read and ride at the same time, Godric didn’t think this was her first time pulling this trick.

As constructs, the only limit to their speed was how fast Ethel could animate them to move synchronously with their movements.

Godric spotted the Circle guarding the trail before his compatriots could, his eyes narrowing in on their forms standing by a raised tower of stone that the mages hadn’t bothered to decorate in the slightest, being a smooth grey pillar.

Likely a good sign that they didn’t plan on staying.

Which was odd, Godric thought; if they weren’t setting up for a long hold, why were they even there? Did they perhaps intend on actually subverting First Home and garrisoning there?

Or was there another reason?

They were within eye distance of the tents and hazy fires of the encampment when they came across a group of five standing in the road. All clad in long coats which traversed the classic, White, Black, Green, Blue, Red, in their hands clutched tightly were their athames.

“Halt,” the one in Black cried out gruffly, his thick black beard barely moving.

They did so, and Deir smiled easily, “We’re an envoy of Haven; we’re here to talk.”

The one in Black glanced to the one in White before looking back at them. “You brought a Sinbearer,” he said gruffly. “The General wants to see him.”

“Who's your general?” Deir cocked her head.

The Black one shrugged, glancing at his other comrades. “She’s the General; she sees him,” he crossed his arms.

Deir frowned. “You must understand that I’m not comfortable with that,” she said.

“Then it’ll be a fight, won’t it?” the one in Black said gruffly.

Deir looked at the man and raised an eyebrow. “Not really,’ she replied bluntly.

The air around the Circle visibly flowed a gentle white.

The one in Black growled and visibly stiffened as he tried to move his body to no success before his eyes widened. “The hells you do?”

Deir smiled slightly and shook her head. “You address Deir, daughter of Alphir. Did you really think you were going to get a single spell off?”

She looked at Godric, and Godric looked back, a small amount of surprise pushing its way into his expression; that was complicated barrier magic, and it had been done in a second.

Deir turned to Ethel, who looked a little bewildered. “Please fire a shot of Fire into the air.”

Ethel nodded and then drew her athame and held it up by the handle, shooting a screeching bolt of burning gold into the air.

The air rippled blue, and a tall, white-haired, silver-eyed girl emerged, followed by a woman dressed in a silken green outfit, her hair a long silver braid behind her head, and as it swayed, Godric caught a glimpse of a blade tied to the end.

Deir raised an eyebrow. “You’re Firstborn, Ulric’s children then?” she asked.

The silver-eyed girl nodded her head. “I am Cera, daughter of Dira; this is my sister Olra, also daughter of Dira. We come to address the Heir.”

-

Ethel scowled at Cera, containing the instant frustration and anger the girl’s words elicited.

Godric hated being called that.

Deir snorted, shaking her head. “Please, you can’t be serious; this is what you’ve come for?”

Deir rolled her eyes and then gestured at Godric. “Address your loyal subjects, your majesty,” she said almost mockingly, and Ethel noticed Godric’s restrained flinch at Deir’s words.

Godric glanced at Deir and the rest of the Circle shifting uncomfortably, in small, minute motions.

Both girls’ eyes narrowed at Deir at her first set of words before their eyes widened as they turned to look at Godric, whose face remained impassive.

One of them stepped forward, her eyes narrowing before she drew her athame, generating pure white energy instantly. “You are Godric, grandson of Ulric?

Godric glanced at Deir, who Ethel noted was still looking immensely irritated, before he drew his athame from his chest and generated a barrier along his blade. “I am.”

Both girls squinted at his blade, then, as his words ended, flinched together and crossed an arm across their chests. “We did not know,” they said together.

Godric’s eyes flicked to Deir again, and Ethel saw the unasked-for request that Deir, as their Head Mage, should have handled.

Deir’s eyes looked away visibly.

Godric turned back to Cera and Olra, “We’re here to negotiate,” he said calmly.

Cera glanced at Olra, who lowered her arm and nodded seriously. “Of course we will always listen to the words of the Heir.”

Godric frowned and then shook his head. “I’m not authorized to discuss terms; I’m only the Second of this Circle,” he cocked his head to Deir, “She’s the Head Mage.”

“I’m only Ulric’s daughter,” Deir shook her head, something tired in the expression, “They won’t recognize that; I thought you knew why your father sent you here,” the words were almost chiding, and the tension bled out into the rest of the Circle.

Godric nodded and then kicked off his construct with a twitch of his leg, landing in front of Cera and Olra with a frown on his face. “Fine,” he sighed before crossing his arms, “They’re coming with me as my entourage; if a single person touches any of them, I’m going to light this place up.”

Cera glanced at Olra, seemingly surprised, but Olra merely smiled pleasantly and inclined her head.

Ethel stared at Godric, not in her usual hidden attempts to gaze at him; no, this was something more serious, and she felt her gut tightening as they walked through the Caedrean Camp as a group.

It was a field of white tents; amongst the cohort of soldiers walked with ease, the sound of food preparation, the scent of magic, and the smoke of gunpowder in the air.

It was evident from the start why they had been sent, why perhaps this Circle had even been constructed as it had, or at least her Mother had said so, and Ethel tended to agree.

Ethel Eld, line of dragons more ancient than either Haven or Caedrea, crossed her arms as she attempted to slide a little closer to Godric, who was frowning as was his wont, though his shoulders remained set and firm as he walked behind Cera and Olra, the Circle having teleported further inside by Cera.

Cera and Olra were whispering quietly to each other, but Ethel had good enough senses to hear their words.

Of course she truly wished she didn’t because they had been discussing Godric’s cheekbones and their relation to the line for the last two minutes, and it was beginning to irritate her.

They stepped inside a tent guarded by two men who held their rifles at attention as they passed, and Olra turned to gesture at a set of chairs behind a desk, crossing her arms as the Circle filled in the room but did not sit.

Olra then spoke, looking directly at Godric, “Heir-“

Godric raised a hand and frowned, “It’s Godric Lux; we’re here on behalf of Haven to inquire what you’re doing in this area, especially with this many Rifles mustered?”

Olra frowned, “Do you not know? Is First Home not aware?”

Ethel watched as Godric’s eyes flicked to Deir for a moment, who shook her head minutely before they returned to Olra. “They’re not.”

Olra shook her head heavily. “A dragon lost her heart,” she said shortly.

Ethel’s stomach cratered, and she was suddenly nauseous; the words were enough to make her want to vomit.

“What?” Godric said, though it was no true question; his stoic expression opened in surprise.

Olra shook her head, her expression soft and sad. “As far as we know, she lived in First Home; some man was entranced by her, and he thought that if he won a Mage Duel with her paramour, she would switch her attentions,” she grimaced, “Stupid fuck, killed the man and she reverted, full transformation, everything.”

Godric muttered quietly under his breath something lyrical like the sound of chimes, and then he shook his head, “First Home said you had five thousand Rifles along with artillery, and ten Mage Circles; how accurate was that?”

So he wasn’t going to address the fact that First Home had lied to them yet; probably smart, but Ethel was sure she would have flipped her lid by now.

Olra shrugged, “It’s accurate enough, but you might see why we deployed in force?” Olra raised an eyebrow.

Godric frowned, crossing his arms, “You’re not going to kill her, right?” he asked.

Cera frowned, “We don’t have much of a choice; she’s a raging Dragon, she’s not going to forgive First Home; she probably doesn’t even have the mind to consider much of anything but annihilating them.”

Godric grit his teeth, his silver eyes flaring a bit wider. “That’s not right; you could have a White Mage soothe them.”

Cera raised an eyebrow. “We don’t have any White Mages capable of such,” she replied bluntly.

Godric turned to look at Deir, who frowned and then slowly shook her head. “I couldn’t authorize it; it’s too dangerous. If the situation can be dealt with by Caedrean forces, then that’s that.”

Cera nodded her head, staring seriously at Godric, “I couldn’t allow it either, Heir; even the lives of all of First Home weighed against it, I could not allow you to attempt it.”