ℝ𝕚𝕕𝕖 𝔻𝕠𝕨𝕟 [Becboc║Ryees]

[Ryees]

 

Rising from the carcass, Gaelyn took a seat on the log lethargically and accepted the flat stone with a quiet, gracious nod. Sweet and savory was a good way to start a day, and for a few minutes of quiet peace, he was able to slip the events of the previous days out of his memory and exist in a moment that did not try to kill him. He found his mind wandering to Ivy, instead, and kept those thoughts private for the moment. The act of pushing those ideas behind his own personal veil recalled to mind the training exercise that was ahead of them that day.

Gaelyn had already seen more than Ivy likely suspected, when he had raked the intruder out of her head the first time. No doubt this exercise would reveal another layer to him, and some part of him, he realized, wanted that. He was beginning to grow curious what made her tick. The cold, snotty bitch that he had thought he knew at the Academy had long been replaced by a much more complex, nuanced human, whose tough outer shell was paper-thin and inflated by the heat thrown off by the roiling sea of emotions bubbling underneath. What first had presented as coldness was a defense; what had presented as irritable was sensitivity. Gaelyn had a better picture now, of what her life had looked like before she came to the Academy. And he could see why she would.

"Aye..." he answered her back. "It's about time we did, I think." He shucked the last mushroom off the stick and tossed it back into the fire, dusting his hands off and turning to face her. Waiting for her to set her plate aside, he regarded her seriously. "You don't have to tell me what it is, but do you have your focus picked out?"

“Mmh,” she replied through her final mouthful, before shuffling her plate off onto the tree trunk. “I do, but I’ll keep it to myself for now. Give you more incentive to try and figure it out.” She rose her eyebrows in Gaelyn’s direction, but there was an underlying twitchiness about her as she turned slightly to face him. “So… where do you wanna do this?”

Crouching before her, he spread his hands. "Right here," he said simply. "I've heard of entire battlegrounds in the minds at a dinner party, wars fought with every combatant in their beds. Unlike physical combat, mental combat can happen anywhere, any time."

“I guess that much, I should already know,” Ivy said quietly, taking a deep breath and then meeting Gaelyn’s gaze. She searched him for a moment before she spoke again. “Alright. I’m ready. Though if you’re thinking about starting an actual war in my head, I should warn you that now might not be the best time. Just sayin’.”

Gaelyn held her gaze for a moment longer than necessary. Then he reached out, not with his hands, but with the practiced sweep of his thoughts, a pressure that didn’t press on her skin but moved like heat rising off stone. It was subtle at first, no shout of power, no crackling aura, just a tension in the air like the hush before lightning splits a mountaintop.

“Alright,” he said quietly. “Don’t brace everything at once. Just focus on the surface. Keep your mind clear, steady. Hold your anchor, and keep that memory in front.” A breath, and then, “I’m coming in.”

The world didn’t change all at once. The fire still crackled, the dirt still pressed under his legs. But his awareness dipped below, like slipping a hand beneath the surface of still water, and Ivy was there, not just as a presence across from him, but as a constellation of thought and reaction. Her surface was drawn up, cautious but tentative. A first attempt. She was holding something close, just under the surface. A memory or image wrapped around her like a scarf, something warm and protective.

He didn’t try to guess. He wasn’t there yet. Instead, he gathered his will, not brute force, but focused pressure, and reached toward her with the gentlest application of power. A probing brush, like a fingertip testing glass for cracks. Ivy’s outer layer held. For a moment, it held.

Then he gave a simple push, and something shifted. She faltered. Just a flicker of uncertainty, the thought behind the anchor wobbling like a coin spun too slow. And in that slip, he was through. He didn’t push far. The second layer rippled into view, unbidden, as he crossed the threshold: the smell of chalk dust. Cool stone beneath bare feet. Rows of empty chairs. Ivy’s sanctuary, cracked open just wide enough to show a glimpse of it abandoned. A classroom, quiet and still and hollowed by grief. He guess that this was most likely not the anchor she’d chosen.

Gaelyn stopped short. The breach was enough. He pulled back like a hand from a hot stove, withdrawing with more care than force, sealing the layer behind him as he returned to himself. Reality reasserted itself in slow gradients. Birds chirped in the trees. Kisa shifted slightly by the fire. The warmth of sun against his neck became distinct again from the mental warmth of Ivy’s thoughts. Gaelyn opened his eyes.

“You lost your grip,” he said, not unkindly. “Not on the barrier, but on the memory holding it up.” His voice was calm, neutral, a soldier giving field notes. But there was a faint crease between his brows. “I didn’t go deep. Just far enough to see you let it slip.” He didn’t describe what he saw. She’d know. And if she didn’t… well, they’d talk about it in time.

He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. “Try again. Stronger this time. Wrap it tighter. I’m going to press a little harder.”​

 

[Becboc]

As soon as she felt Gaelyn, like a gentle breeze sweeping across her surface, she tensed both mentally and physically. The sensation was nothing like that of the attack but it was the first time that her mind had been touched since then and everything still felt rather… sensitive.

His steady voice however, and the gentleness of his encouragement was what eventually coaxed her into settling, slowly but surely, as she closed her eyes and tried to relax her shoulders… and finally brought her anchor into her mind.

The archives were cool and dark, made of the comfort of shadows and ancient stories long since forgotten. Ivy had always held a fascination for books and their tales, whether it was born of escapism or simple curiosity, a need to know more of the world, both past and present. At first she had escaped to her father's library, to sit and ready companionably with him, side by side, and even in solitude once he had left her. It became a hiding place from disappointment, from her mother, and she supposed she had never truly lost the need for that comfort, even at school.

In the physical world Ivy inhaled deeply, but in her mind she could scent dust and musty pages. She could hear the echoes of her footsteps, from feet planted firmly upon the stone ground beneath, and the odd thump of a book someone retrieved from a shelf too high for them.

She felt… at home. Like she belonged.

Until a pulse rippled the candelabras above her head. The tremor was small at first, like a barely registered earthquake and Ivy held fast, turning to a bookcase beside her and looking for something to focus on, a title she could bury her nose in and use to strengthen the walls of her protection.

But then came the next, harder this time, enough to flicker the candles and dislodge dust from the ceiling. Ivy's heart began to pound as cracks from the impact began in the walls that encased the books, slow at first, like lines of burning lava trickling down the edges of ridged volcano.

It didn't take long however, flr them to reach the top of the room, for them to crack open like one might peel away the layers of a fruit; Ivy couldn't defend herself against this, not when she felt fear and panic and deja vu begin to flood her mind.

Someone was here. She was not alone. She was supposed to be alone in the empty classroom, the one with the chalkboard and too many chairs. Too many chairs for just she and him, a space designed for learning, for lectures and intelligence that he had gifted her with so readily. This was her safe space, this the one part of her that remained untouched by anyone but him… until now.

Everything began to fall away before Ivy had a chance to react, like a gift being gently prized from her gripping hands. She surfaced like she was slipping through troubled waters, feeling first the warmth from the morning sun, hearing next the swish of leaves, seeing Kisa's familiar, shimmering scales…

As soon as she realised where she was and what had happened, Ivy was stumbling from the trunk like a cat who'd just felt the first signs of rain. She didn't hear Gaelyn's words, didn't want to as she rounded on him, fury glimmering in her eyes and flushing her cheeks, her plate from earlier sliding to the ground with an unceremonious clatter.

"What… the hell was that?!" She demanded of him, her breaths coming too quickly. "We didn't agree to go that deep, I didn't give you permission to see—"

Ivy's voice wobbled and for a moment, her mask of attitude slipped just a little to reveal the hurt, the fear fuelling her words before she forced it back into place.

"You went too far, Gaelyn. That place, it's not…" She shook her head, "Just stay out of it, okay? It's off limits. Even to you."

 

[Ryees]

 

Gaelyn didn't flinch. He stayed where he was, seated, elbows resting loosely on his knees, the ash-washed remains of their breakfast cooling between them. Ivy's voice hit like a gust—raw, sharp, full of hurt and accusation—and for one quiet second, he let it echo. Not because he agreed, but because she needed to say it. Then, calmly, he answered her. "No."

He didn't raise his voice and eh didn't harden it. Hust offered the single syllable like a stone dropped in water, disrupting her fury without fighting it. "You were fine," he added. "You lost control for three seconds, and now you're angry because I saw something you weren't ready to show. That's the point of this."

Gaelyn rose with the slow steadiness of someone whose mind was already one step ahead of his body. He didn't come closer, didn't crowd her, but his presence, upright and centered, cast a longer shadow now in the light of the rising sun. "I'm not trying to root around in your past. It doesn't matter what I saw., it matters that I got in." He took one step back, not away from her, but into position. One boot scuffed across dirt and moss as he turned to face her fully. "You want to be ready next time? Then take a breath. And try again."

There was no space for argument in the words, only a moment's worth of mercy, maybe two, to let her recenter. Then, without fanfare or warning, Gaelyn punched back in.

And with no subtlety this time, no brushing wind or coaxing tide. The mental strike came sharp and narrow, like a thrown lance of pressure that hit the outer edge of her mind with a crack of pure intent. It was the exact shape of the attack that had almost claimed her above the tree line, a mirroring echo crafted not to harm but to force recognition. There was no anger behind it, no punishment. Just training. Real training.

The physical world shimmered around them again, trees smearing at the edges of vision like wet paint, colors bleeding as the world gave way to the borderlands of the mind. Gaelyn stood still in the clearing, his face unreadable, but his focus was absolute. This time, the attack didn't test the perimeter. It struck at it, and kept pressing.

The impact came like a pressure drop. Air thinned. Time warped. The mental landscape was forming again—or trying to—but the directness of the incursion made it harder to shape. If Ivy summoned her archives again, the stone might tremble beneath her feet. If she pulled up a shield, it would be tested the instant it rose. And behind the pressure, faint but real, was the sense of Gaelyn. His awareness, cool and focused, holding fast behind the spear of willpower.

The message wasn't subtle.

This is how they come for you.
So show me how you stop them.​

​

​

 

[Becboc]

There was something incredibly infuriating about Gaelyn's calm in the face of her storm and Ivy could only stare at him, as if waiting for him to clap back. Instead, he gave her a simple, one word answer that boiled her blood more than anything else could have.

"No?" She repeated the word quietly and then added, in a tone that barely contained her outrage. "What do you mean… No?"

Watching when he rose, she felt her hands ball into her fists at her sides, her frustration ebbing and flowing with the weight of the breaths that flexed through her chest too quickly. Gaelyn was speaking sense, deep down a part of her knew that, but on the surface? Ivy was rattled; rattled by what he had seen, the part of her that no one saw. She wasn't ready, didn't know if she would ever be, not now, not ever.

Before she had a chance to protest again however, Gaelyn was upon her for a second time.

He only gave her a few seconds notice to find her feet, leaving her scrambling around in a panic that only increased in intensity when she felt it; the lash across her mind, the sensation of the physical world rippling, the intrusion. It was no way near what their enemy had inflicted upon her of course, but it was enough to simulate the gut wrenching, throat closing fear of knowing that someone was attempting to pry open her most vulnerable self.

Though knowing this time that someone was Gaelyn, was at least enough for her to rally herself, until Ivy's panic finally gave way to an emotion she was much, much more familiar with.

Fury, red hot and relentless began to pour through her as she once more planted her feet on the stone of the archives floor that she summoned beneath her, face on the outside and inside world set with grim determination. Tremors were already rumbling along the ceiling and Ivy imagined iron walls shooting up around the stone, reinforcing them until the amount of dust particles dislodged from the flickering lights were lessened.

It gave her time. A moment to breathe - but the pressure didn't let up. She could feel Gaelyn hovering behind her defences, prowling and looking for a way in, with only herself stood between him and the entry that he sought.

That was where she slipped again. Ivy could see the classroom, the chairs, the chalkboards, she could feel the door cracking open bit by bit as her panic started to rise; but then just as the opening became wide enough for someone to slip through? Just as she turned to see his silhouette against the light shining from inside?

Her internal world detonated.

What could only be described as an explosion of shadow and force contracted for a second and then another, before it pushed out with the kind of devastating blow that in the real world she envisioned flattening buildings. Ivy had planted a bomb in the middle of her mind and her own rage had been enough to trigger it. She gritted her teeth through the groan of effort that it took to push them both back out until finally, finally, the world became physical again and she stumbled backwards into it, branches and leaves snapping once more underfoot.

She and Gaelyn remained, facing one another like they had been when this had started, but Ivy did not look jubilant, or even smug in the aftermath of what could be considered an achievement. Instead she looked… cold, closed off, her chest rising and falling too quickly, her lips curling back so that she could growl the warning that left her lips before she even had a chance to breathe.

"I said…" She tried through her thinning pants. "Stay the fuck out of my head, Gaelyn."

And then before he could answer her she turned on her heel and began towards the trees, with no purpose or direction other than a need for space; her own message just as clear as his had been.

We’re done here.​

 

[Ryees]

 

The forest held its breath after she left him. Gaelyn remained where she had stood, the branches still swaying from the echo of her departure. Her words, sharp and final, lingered in the air like the smoke curling off their morning fire. He didn't move at first. There was a time when he might've gone after her, might've tried to soothe things with some misplaced apology or tactical retreat, but that time had passed the moment she pushed him out on her own.

She hadn't failed. Not really. He sat with that a while, both to mull it over and give her the space she demanded. And when she returned, whenever it was—hours or minutes, with no words between them—he didn't mention what had happened. He simply nodded to her when she crossed back into the edge of camp and let the silence wrap them both like bark around a branch. That was enough, for now.

---

They left before the next dawn.

Kisa, having finished off what was left of her kill and burned the rest, padded silently behind them as they broke camp. The morning air tasted like flint and fog, cooler this far south, the ground growing firmer beneath their boots as the last fringes of the inner forest gave way to harder earth. She was quiet, but alert. Gaelyn noted her gaze sweep the sky more often now.

They avoided roads. Even if the Mirror wasn't still hunting for Lohia Kaarm survivors, Riders on dragonback were hard to miss. They only took to the skies when they could fly low over the tops of a patch of forest, more a long jump than a proper flight.

By the time Deyrnas Bend appeared in the valley below, the sun had risen enough to paint its upper tiers gold. The city's steep terraces stepped like great stone shelves down toward the edge of the strait. From above, its shape resembled a clamshell cracked open against the sea. Towering white walls wrapped around it like the edge of a cupped hand, tiered, defensive, and old. Two watchtowers framed a narrow port gate at the bottom level, near the docks. A fortified bridge crossed the river mouth to a low island, where smoke curled from a signal post and fishing lines glittered in the current.

Kisa hovered in wide circles before she descended toward the outer ring, choosing a rocky landing just outside the main gate. Her shimmer began even before her claws touched stone, the same ethereal ripple that passed over her form when she ǝƃɐ ɹǝɥ pǝssǝɹƃǝɹ shrunk her size down again. By the time she finished, she was small enough to perch on Gaelyn's shoulder again, though she settled instead against his back, tail curling loosely around the strap of his pack. He murmured something comforting to her, voice low, and then gestured toward the gate.

They entered as three: one man, one woman, and a glimmering serpent no larger than a hound. The guards at the first checkpoint didn't stop them. There was no need; one look was enough to know what they were. Their clothes were travel-worn but military-cut; their posture still bore the instinctive lines of formation training; and the dragon, no matter how small, was unmistakable.

But this time the stares weren't admiring. Eyes followed them, but not with reverence. Not with the usual awe-struck whispers or excited shouts of children calling out, "Rider!" from behind market stalls. These eyes narrowed, pulled back. Measured. Not all of them, not yet. But enough to set Gaelyn's teeth on edge. A fishmonger's hand slowed as it laid silverfin on crushed ice. A woman clutching herbs to her chest stepped sideways out of the lane as they passed. A boy who'd been throwing rocks at the edge of a fountain stopped mid-arc and didn't finish the toss. His father's hand came down on his shoulder before he could say anything.

Gaelyn noticed quietly, but smoothed his face to serenity. Kisa curled a little tighter against his shoulder, her nostrils flaring.

Even Ivy, he imagined, could feel it, how the air shifted when they walked by. Riders weren't a promise anymore. They were a question, a warning. The kind of omen that made dogs bark at dusk and locked doors creak open on moonless nights.

Gaelyn led them briskly down the switchback streets carved into the slope of Deyrnas Bend, looking for somewhere to rest, somewhere to eat, somewhere to disappear for a while without being seen. But they had been seen, and the whispers were already starting.

The inn was a modest place nestled halfway up the third tier, its stone façade shaded by the overhang of the terrace above. A faded sign hung crooked from an iron hook, reading "The Bronze Quay," painted over a profile of the strait below. Windchimes made from seashells rattled against one another in the salt breeze. It looked… safe. Ordinary. A place that might once have welcomed students from the Academy on their summer circuit hikes, or Riders on patrol rotation.

Kisa stayed coiled tight around Gaelyn's back as they stepped inside. The interior smelled of boiled grain and fish broth. That was not ideal, but it was warm inside. The hearth was lit, and a few patrons occupied the front tables, older men hunched over cards and a woman with a toddler in her lap. One or two sets of eyes flicked up when the door opened. One or two lingered.

The portly man behind the bar was cleaning a clay cup with a rag that had seen better days. He was middle-aged, with sun-reddened skin and a ring of dark beard clinging stubbornly to his jaw. He looked up when they entered, and something in his posture shifted. Not sharply, like the others, just a small stillness. Then he set the cup down and came around the side, wiping his hands on his apron. "Afternoon," he said. "You two looking for a room?"

Gaelyn nodded once. "If you've got one."

The man exhaled. It was not a sigh, more like a brace. His eyes drifted toward Kisa, then back to the two of them, and there was something there that wasn't fear. Not disgust, either. Sadness, maybe. He rubbed the back of his neck. "You're from the school, then." It wasn't a question.

Neither of them answered.

"I'd offer you one, if I could," he went on quietly. "I think the whole thing's a bunch o; malarkey, what people are saying. Spoke with a courier from Arborough myself. Said they were good folk, students and staff, nothing more. That silver one that came through, the girl Rider, she pulled a dozen kids out of a burning barn."

Gaelyn's eyes tightened at the corners. That would've been Tessa.

The man gestured loosely to the room, his voice still low. "Doesn't matter. You understand. People are scared. They think the school's got a mark on it now. That anyone who made it out… carries it with them." He raised a hand defensively and hurried on. "You don't, I'm sure of that. But I can't afford to make my regulars think otherwise. Not in times like these. I'm sorry." He was already reaching behind the bar, pulling out a wrapped spear of bread and two small parcels of dried fish. He offered them both with an apologetic tilt of his chin. "This at least. For the road."

Gaelyn didn't move for a moment. Then he nodded again, slower this time, and reached to take it. "You didn't have to."

"No," the innkeeper agreed. "But I'll sleep better knowing I did."

The windchimes clattered again behind them as they stepped back out into the street.​

 

[Becboc]

Even when Ivy finally returned to camp, she didn't speak - didn't for the rest of the night as she curled up under the stars and let her mind rest.

She was quiet the next morning and during the journey, offering not much more than mumbled agreements. It was clear that she was upset about what had happened, that she needed time to process it - time that they didn't have. She also knew that what Gaelyn had been trying to do came from a good place but she was embarrassed, felt perhaps a little wounded, and such emotions never made for a pleasant mood from an overly sensitive individual.

Flying again, at least, helped to blow away some of her lingering bitterness, as the wind whipped at her hair, her skin, the distance between her body and the earth below allowing some perspective. If another attack came? She was at least somewhat equipped to deal with it now - granted, she possibly wasn't powerful enough to fully defend against the Mirror who likely held much more practice at psychic warfare if yesterday was anything to go by, but she could at least try. She could, at the very least, prevent herself from opening the gods damned gate and welcoming their enemy in.

---

The city of Deyrnas Bend was certainly a sight to behold as Kisa began their descent to land upon the outer ring of the cliff side settlement. Their dragon resorting back into her smaller size was still as baffling as ever but felt more... normal these days, more familiar and so they set off towards the city without stopping to comment, two riders and their dragon who carried a perhaps naive hope that their reception might be similar to what they had received in Arborough.

It didn't take long for them to realise that this was not the case.

Ivy was maybe the first one to notice, given her sensitivity to such things. This was not the first time she had been whispered about while she walked by, not the first time she had been shunned by people who were supposed to be her peers, and while she had become adept at holding her chin high and ignoring underhand words and opinions, she had to admit that this? This caught her offguard. Riders were usually respected, even trainee riders given what they would grow up to be. Yet here? In the winding, cobbled streets of the sea-side city that smelled of salt and shells, here residents backed out of their path, watching them not with awe but with... fear.

In spite of herself, Ivy nudged a little closer into Gaelyn's side. She knew that he saw it too, in the way that he stiffened and in the way that Kisa's nostrils flared. Suddenly, they were on high alert - not from their enemy, but the very people they were trained to protect.

The inn was a welcome sight when they found it, so they could catch a break from the eyes that followed them. There were less people inside and it wasn't as bright; more akin to Ivy's shadows, which is what she needed right now. They felt like home, like something she could depend on when in reality, their home didn't exist anymore and neither did everything that it had once stood for. The shadows she could hide in if push came to shove; they offered her a comfort like little else did.

The innkeeper at least, greeted them pleasantly... though it soon became clear that he would do no more than that for them. No more than that and a few slices of bread and pieces of salted fish.

For the most part, she let Gaelyn do the talking but the more the conversation continued the more she could feel her emotions beginning to churn like the tempest they were, simmering just beneath her surface. Her fists began to curl at her sides and perhaps there was a little bit of fallout from the day before still left within her, as well as a festering despair for how quickly people seemed prepared to turn their backs on them. They were branded as a danger because of who followed them, but that wasn't their fault.

"This at least. For the road."
"You didn't have to."
"No. But I'll sleep better knowing I did."
​

Ivy however, was now well beyond being polite as she all but exploded into the silence that followed, as if she couldn't believe that this was how they were leaving things - "You'll sleep better, but what about us? Where are we supposed to go if every inn in the city takes the same position as you?"

The innkeeper winced but folded his arms. "I'm sorry," he tried, but Ivy shook her head.

"Sorry isn't going to keep us safe tonight, is it? But at least you'll have one more room spare I suppose, should anyone less dangerous happen upon your establishment." For a moment she waited, as if expecting the inkeeper to change his mind but when he said nothing she scoffed and turned on her heel letting her words linger before heading straight for the door. The fresh sea air did little to grant her any relief though as panic began to set in, panic and a churning nausea at what they were facing, what they could come to face anywhere.

"I... I can't believe this," she eventually sputtered once Gaelyn and Kisa joined her. "H-He said it himself, one of us pulled children from a burning building and yet... we're outcasts now? What do they expect us to do? Disappear into the forest and wait for the threat to pick us off one by one?"

People were beginning to watch Ivy as they walked past but she didn't care, not now she knew that they would watch anyway because of the clothes she wore on their back. Instinctively, her hand went to the school's insignia that she still bore on her chest, rubbing the embroidered badge as though it had become a physical weight, an ailment or a pain. Her amber eyes turned towards the sparkling ocean that they could just about make out at the end of the winding, cobbled street before she took a deep breath in an attempt to centre herself again, to stop all that was clawing at her mind. When she spoke again her voice was softer and her hurt at what she was about to say so incredibly palpable.

"Maybe... finding somewhere that will sell us some... different clothes is what we should try next."

 

[Ryees]

The embroidery under her fingertips felt rougher than she remembered.

Gaelyn didn’t answer right away. He simply looked at her, the ocean reflected in his eyes and the wind tugging loose strands of her hair across her cheeks. Then, gently, he reached out and curled his fingers beneath hers where they pressed against the badge. He didn’t pull her hand away. He just stilled it.

“You’re not wrong,” he said quietly, just for her. “But there’s still pride in where we came from. Even if the world’s trying to make us forget it.”

He let her go and turned toward Kisa, who had been waiting with an eerie kind of stillness. She had grown since their exit, silently protesting the world telling her to not take up space. Her tail swayed once, slow and pendulous, but she made no move to shift again. The way people parted from them, the way doors quietly locked when they passed, made it clear they wouldn’t be welcome anywhere inside the city walls.

That was when Gaelyn felt the flicker of pressure behind his temples, light, urgent, and unmistakably familiar. Tessa.

The contact was brittle. Far enough that it blurred around the edges, like a voice shouting across water in fog. But it still came through.

“I’m running out of places to take them. The twins from Sherlin’s class were turned away from the gates at Vaeler’s Rest. Refugees are being blamed for drawing attention. Two inns were burned in the last three days. They’re scared, Gael. Of us. Of what we might bring. I’m doing what I can. But it’s getting bad.”

The connection crackled and dimmed like a dying ember.

Gaelyn exhaled slowly through his nose, grounding himself again in the moment. Kisa was already nudging her nose toward the road that wound out of town... the only direction left to go. He turned back to Ivy. “I got a message from Tessa,” he said, voice low. “It’s not just here. Arborough wasn’t the end of it. She’s trying, but things are starting to fall apart.”

He didn’t sugarcoat it, but he offered something else in its place. “For now, it’s just the three of us. You, me, and Kisa.” Then something softened at the corner of his mouth, almost a smile. “And I’m glad you’re here, Ivy. Even if you’re mad at me. Wouldn’t want to do this with anyone else.”

He didn’t wait for a reply. Instead, he shifted his pack higher, nodded to the dragon beside them, and started toward the road leading out of Deyrnas Bend. He didn’t look back, but his pace was slow enough for her to catch up.

They would find a place. They had to. And until then, they would keep moving. Together.

 

[Becboc]

As always, Gaelyn seemed to know exactly what to do to quieten her raging mind. The touch was simple but it captured her attention and when she looked up into his softness, her flames flickered from grief and fury to something steadier. It might have worried her, had she not been so grateful for it… and for him.

She watched him go to Kisa in the wake of his words that rang true, and she had been about to move when she felt it, like a ripple at the edges of her consciousness. Ivy panicked at first but it was… different to an attack. More gentle, more muted. She watched Gaelyn for a moment with furrowed brows but then he explained.

The ripple had been Tessa.

"Is… Is she okay?" Ivy asked the question with sincerity but Gaelyn's response was not what she expected. It was just the three of them in this now, a fact that brought with it not fear, but instead there was comfort. Gratitude.

And Ivy couldn't help but smile a little herself, the expression soft and far too unfamiliar on her features these days.

"I reckon another day and I might consider forgiveness… especially if you keep looking at me like that."

The last part was uttered mostly to herself, but Ivy's glimmer of a smile remained even when Gaelyn turned to walk away. She didn't need to forgive him, not really - there was nothing to forgive and they both knew it, which is why she began after him and Kisa almost straight away. Ivy reached his side with a few quicker footsteps and there was no hesitation when she found his hand, and linked their fingers together. She didn't look up at him as she did, but simply squeezed gently to convey the necessary message.

She was sorry. And she wouldn't want to do it with anyone else either.

It was Ivy's turn now to lead Gaelyn and their dragon through the city, towards what started to feel like a more undesirable side of it. It wasn't like she knew where she was going, it was her first time here after all but the signs that their direction was correct were there - streets became darker, dirtier, with the clothing of residents beginning to look more worn and tattered. The smells were less pleasant and the sounds of the ocean did little to mask the cries of those who could not afford the city's affluence.

This decision was a purposeful one, and one that Ivy did not take lightly. But as they eventually came to another inn, The Sloshed Bucket that held a slumped stranger against its front wall, Ivy stopped them in front of it.

"I know how it looks," she exhaled. "But something like this… could be our only option, Gaelyn. If things really are that bad."

 

[Ryees]

Post—— Profile— The interior of The Sloshed Bucket was dim and hazy with old pipe smoke, though no one seemed to be smoking now. The place had the color of old tea-stains and sweat with wooden beams sagging under their own memory, plaster walls rubbed raw in patches, and furniture that looked like it had survived more brawls than meals. A fiddler sawed away lazily in the corner, stringing out something mournful, and the fire near the bar was just hot enough to sting the eyes if you stood too close. A few locals looked up when Gaelyn and Ivy entered, just long enough to size them up, but no one stopped talking, no one moved for a weapon, and no one asked about the dragon, who had retaken her place as the wreath around Ivy's neck. That alone made the place feel safer than anywhere they'd been in days. Gaelyn stepped forward, giving Ivy's hand a squeeze before letting go—not because he wanted distance, but because he wanted both hands free. He passed the eyes at the bar, the grizzled man behind it cleaning mugs that didn't look like they'd ever been clean to start with. "Room?" Gaelyn asked. "Two crowns," the barkeep grunted, not even looking up. "Don't bleed on the floor." Gaelyn passed over the coin. "No promises." A smile ghosted across the barkeep's mouth like a shipwreck resurfacing, then vanishing again. "Upstairs. Left door. Don't wake the twins, they'll knife you." "Understood." They moved past the bar, through the tavern floor. Ivy stayed close, and Gaelyn kept his shoulders loose, his footfalls measured. He was tired, gods knew, but habit had its own muscle memory. Someone watched them. Not all the patrons, but one, a man in the corner with a faded green cloak and too many rings, nursing something in a carved bone cup. His eyes were half-lidded, unreadable. Gaelyn clocked him, nodded once, then moved on. Only once they were behind the door of their cramped little room—just a cot, a basin, and a single warped window looking out toward the alley—did he let himself lean back and exhale. "They don't care who we are," he said quietly. "Might be the safest place we've found yet." The room was musty and cramped, but it was theirs for now, and that counted for something. Kisa had curled herself along the side wall, long body coiled with one paw draped over her snout, feigning sleep. Ivy lingered near the basin, washing travel from her hands in silence, and Gaelyn didn't press her. He only murmured that he'd go back down to fetch them water, maybe food, before slipping out and easing the door shut behind him. The tavern was no quieter than before, but the fiddle had stopped. Gaelyn made his way back to the bar, weaving past slouched shoulders and hunched forms. The air smelled of stale smoke, old grease, and something sour beneath it all. No one stopped him, though a few glanced over their mugs. "Two waters," Gaelyn said when the barkeep turned his way again. "And anything hot that goes up to the room." The barkeep grunted and reached for the tankards, wiping the rims out with a different rag than before. "Not a wine man?" "Not tonight." "Suit yourself." As the man moved to fetch food, a low voice stirred to Gaelyn's left. "That beast yours?" Gaelyn turned just enough to clock the speaker, a man with wiry arms, eyes too sharp for the state of his clothes. He was seated at the edge of the bar with a cracked pipe resting in one hand, unused. "Which beast?" Gaelyn asked. The man grinned, showing a chipped tooth. "The one you left in your room." Gaelyn met his gaze. "She's mine." "Thought dragons were banned in city limits. New rule since last week." "She's not full-grown," Gaelyn said mildly. "No flight, either. Would've had to slither up the cliffs, tail over snout." The man squinted, unsure if he was being mocked, but said nothing more. The barkeep returned with a small tray bearing two thick-crusted hand pies, an apple cut in halves, and a few dried dates folded in paper. He also set down two clay flagons, sloshing faintly. Gaelyn gave a short nod of thanks, passed over a copper for the effort, and turned without ceremony. He took a casual gulp from one of the waters as he walked, letting the heat of the bar slide off his shoulders behind him. The water tasted slightly mineral-heavy, but not unexpected for a place this old. Still, he rolled it over his tongue again as he reached the top step. He opened the room door, and Kisa's head snapped up immediately. She rose from her coil with fluid grace, nostrils flaring, eyes locked not on Gaelyn but on the flagon in his hand. Her scales bristled in small, shifting patterns of warning, just enough to raise the short hairs along the back of Gaelyn's neck. "What is it?" he asked, more to her than to Ivy, pausing with the tray in his hands. Kisa moved forward slowly. She sniffed again, a low, discordant hum that vibrated in her throat, not far from a growl. White dragons weren't known for brute strength or power, but Kisa's breed had its own arsenal, one that made her more than a match for subtler dangers. The same scales that let her vanish against the sky also repelled nearly every known toxin, from ingested poisons to skin-borne agents, her hide functioning like a living lotus leaf. And if anything did breach the surface, her blood was rich with natural antivenoms that rendered most substances inert before they could take hold. Her kind were born with instinctual knowledge of poisons in all shapes and origins, so when she flared to attention now, it wasn't fear, but certainty. Something was wrong. Gaelyn's fingers tightened on the handle of the flagon, but already he felt it like pressure blooming behind the eyes. It was not pain exactly, but a soft fog creeping down the walls of his mind. "I think…" His words wavered faintly. "I think someone—" A knock came at the door.​ ​

 

[Becboc]

Post—— Profile— It was a relief at least, when the door to their room closed behind them. Ivy headed straight for the sink, as if the grey bowl could wash the grime she could feel lingering around the inn from her skin. She hummed in agreement to Gaelyn's observation because it was exactly why she had led them to somewhere like this in the first place. There were worst people that lingered in the shadows of cities than riders from Lohia Kaarm, even with the new brand that they wore. She didn't protest when Gaelyn offered to go downstairs and fetch them some much needed food and water, although she had to admit that she didn't like the idea of them separating much, even though it was necessary. They had the bond at least, that remained on high alert, should anything untoward happen. To either of them. By the time that he returned to her, Ivy was collapsed in a heap atop the bed, staring vacantly at the ceiling. As soon as she heard the door however, she jerked upwards instinctively, was about to open her mouth to speak but before she could… Kisa began to ripple. Ivy's brow furrowed as she looked from their dragon to Gaelyn, her eyes scouring every inch of him for signs of injury. It was when he eventually spoke however, that she finally noticed it. The paling of his skin, the wavering in his words and... the sway of his body. The fading of his presence within her mind, like he was wrapped in something that she couldn't infiltrate. That, paired with Kisa's reaction, told Ivy all she needed to know but it did not grant her a reprieve to act on it before a knock came at the door. "Shit. Shit, shit." Ivy leapt like a cat from the bed and was by Gaelyn's side in seconds. "Who is it?" She called out, while she took the tray from his hands, placed it down on the floor and then draped his arm across her shoulders so she could help him to the bed before he fell face first into the wooden planks beneath their feet. "Just someone who wants to talk." "Kisa," Ivy hissed. "Stay with him." "We don't open the door to strangers." Ivy was already moving to the wall beside the entrance to their room, feet featherlight, muscles tense, hand lingering of the daggers that she had conjured within the pouch at her hip. "Pity." The voice on the other side was gruff, and Ivy could make out the shuffling of not one... but two bodies. "Then I suppose we'll just have to break it down instead." The next sound that came was not a knock but a slam, like someone hauling their body at wood. It was a surprise the door didn't come straight off of its hinges as Ivy winced and dropped into a crouch, already summoning shadows from every corner of the room, her index finger whipping with blue light. If whoever this was, was using physical strength to get into the room they were likely not the enemy that sought them. A different kind, granted, but she could deal with two who were not magic wielders. Coming here had been a mistake. It had felt like their only option but she had endangered them, all of them... Another slam hit and this time the door groaned. Once more, Ivy predicted, one more and then— When a body finally came stumbling through, the door flying wide, Ivy's shadows moved quicker than lightning. They formed a round, mirror like space at the entrance to the room, that the first brute didn't stand a chance against. He propelled himself with the force of meeting a surface, only to run further than he intended… straight into the void that awaited his presence. He fell, a scream echoing in his wake, into nothing, a space that nobody else could see, causing the man behind him to stagger backwards so as not to meet the same fate. "What… What the fuck did you just do?" He growled, as Ivy stood behind the portal, knife now in hand, chest rising and falling steadily. Daring. Threatening. "Why don't you take a few steps forwards and find out for yourself? Or better yet, tell me what you did to him!"​ Ivy pointed towards Gaelyn, but the stranger didn't answer and instead spat onto the floor beside him. "I'm 'ere for that beast o'yours. Hand it over, 'else someone's gonna get hurt." ​ ​

 

[Ryees]

Post—— Profile— Gaelyn did the best he could to keep his head upright to mostly no avail. Taking Ivy's help to the bed saved him a broken nose, but it was all he could do to pull himself up with one arm over the back of the rickety headboard to keep himself upright. His hands were too shaky to trace runes and his legs felt like jelly, and the cotton behind his eyes was threatening to burst out through his ears. His body was near-useless, but he had other resources. He dove away from the nausea and the dizziness, free-falling out of his body and into his self. Gaelyn searched for the reins of the bond and found them, lingering in the void. He rode that down, then up, searching for the senses of another. Kisa's mind opened to him before he even reached her boundary, and their minds connected. You ate poison. I didn't think it would be so bad. Didn't think they'd try to kill us. Our pride falls. Fight. Now. Life is fighting. I didn't want it to come to this. Fight. ...Fight. "...it over, 'else someone's gonna get hurt." Fight. ˙ʎpoq ʇlnpɐ ɹǝɥ uᴉ ǝpᴉs ɹǝɥʇo ǝɥʇ ʇno ǝɯɐɔ puɐ ǝɯᴉʇ ɟo ɔᴉɹqɐɟ ǝɥʇ ɥƃnoɹɥʇ pɹɐʍɹoɟ pǝddᴉls ǝɥs 'ɹǝʇɐl ʇuǝɯoɯ ǝɹɐq ɐ puɐ 'ɹǝɥ punoɹɐ pǝʇɐnʇɔnlɟ ǝɯᴉ┴ ˙ƃuᴉʇɹoʇuoɔ ʎpoq ɹǝɥ 'pǝɹɐlɟ ǝunɹ s,ɐsᴉʞ Kisa's form shimmered in that eye-bending way, and as she uncurled like a whipcrack and flew through the air, her body doubled, then tripled in size. By the time she impacted the chest of the brute in the hallway, she was fifteen meters long and round in the chest as a bear, grown to her full size. The startled grunt turned into panicked, choking shouts as the pair crashed against the opposite wall. Kisa snarled and barked and snapped, jaws and claws aiming for soft, but seemingly non-lethal points as her body undulated wildly, also doing its part to thump against the man's back and bounce him face-first off the floorboards. As he tried to crawl away, her jaws locked with purpose down around his calf, and she dragged him backwards in twisting, jerking yanks. Out of the hallway she pulled him, back into the room. Her body coiled like a spring and flexed, and she heaved him up and over her head, bodily tossing him into the hole through which his comrade had disappeared a minute before. The threat was dispatched, but she took no time to gloat or celebrate. Instead, she snaked over to the bed, putting her front legs up on it and crawling behind, then around Gaelyn, cradling him in her coil. She flicked the end of her tail up and around to float in front of his face, then stretched her snout out as she flared her scales. The tip of her tail winced as she plucked a small tail scale from her skin, a drop of blood finding its way onto the not-so-crisp white sheets as she nosed her snout into Gaelyn's hand, placing the scale there. Take. Eat. The words were less sound, more feeling, whispered through the bond in the half-broken dragon tongue that tried to emulate common speak. Gaelyn, having made his way back to his body, stared down at the scale in his palm like he was puzzling out how to go about consuming a life scorpion. Kisa huffed, and pushed her snout under his hand, shoving it up to his face. Finally acquiescing, Gaelyn slipped the scale between his lips. The moment the blood hit his tongue, his nerves tingled like he had struck a funny bone in his chest, shoulders, knees, and head all at once. Chewing the scale was tough and leathery, but the smaller, delicate tail scales were manageable, if not palatable. Piece by piece, though, he choked the scale down. And piece by piece, he could feel those chemicals enter his body, rushing through his nerves like ink spreading over wet parchment. To say he felt immediately better was too tall a tale, but his hand, lowering from his face, moved much more smoothly than it had on its way up. Kisa uncurled herself from around him and trundled back towards the door. Her nose poked out into the hallway to find the expected waiting eyes peering out from several doors down the way. She took no offense to those, but instead took offense to the other two men waiting on the stairs, carrying the hooked knives made to stick into dragon scales common among dragon poachers. She snarled and roared, the corners of her mouth clicking and sparking, and those men turned and bolted back down the stairs, nearly tripping over themselves in their attempts to flee. Dust hung heavy in the air, kicked up from the dingy room, mixing with the coppery tang of blood and the sour, acrid trace of whatever had been in Gaelyn's drink. The doorway was a wreck, splintered, half-hinged, with a few scattered boards forming an abstract trail to the void where two men had vanished and the third's blood painted a thick smear across the threshold. Bits of broken wood were embedded in the floor, and the air still echoed faintly with the ghost of Kisa's roar. Gaelyn stayed in the bed, half-seated, half-sprawled, breathing deeper now, though still pale. His shirt was soaked at the collar from sweat. He stared down at his hand like it didn't quite belong to him, then slowly flexed his fingers. "…Well," he muttered, voice dry and barely above a whisper. "I don't think we're getting a mint on the pillow." His gaze flicked over the ruined doorway, then to Kisa, still full-sized, still standing guard. The bulk of her frame made the room feel like a cave, protective and heavy. She hadn't moved since sending the men running, save for a small twitch of her tail that hadn't stopped flicking. He licked the inside of his teeth. Metallic. Not ideal. "Remind me," he said hoarsely, shifting to glance at Ivy with one eye, "not to let you pick the next inn." He laughed to himself, then winced slightly as he sat up straighter. "Or maybe just sleep in a ditch next time. Less dramatic lighting, but fewer attempted murders." His tone was too light to be real humor, but it was something, a signal that he was lucid again, aware. Still recovering, still poisoned, but not in immediate danger. He took another breath, this one steadier, and leaned his head back against the cracked headboard and closed his eyes for a moment. "We need to be out of here by morning. Earlier, if we're feeling ambitious."​ ​

 

[Becboc]

Post—— Profile— While Kisa transformed, Ivy was too preoccupied with the second threat at the door, so she didn't see the new vastness of their dragon until she cracked through the air and launched herself through the air, quicker than a lightning bolt. Her rider watched in something close to disbelief, worry and pride, blazing eyes following every movement for any signs that Kisa was in trouble. She needn't have worried of course, but in her own mind their dragon was still a baby… and that was somewhat still true in reality as well. The dragon made short work of the squawking man who had only prepared for a hatchling and once he too was flying into Ivy's void, the small brunette flashed her wrist and closed the portal, not giving a moment to think about where those two bodies had actually gone. Instead she remained, breathing heavily and watching Kisa curl around Gaelyn who was still slumped on the bed, a fog still shrouding their connection. It surprised her a little, to watch the two of them communicate in a way that she wasn't accustomed too, but she didn't interrupt and instead simply observed the scale that was offered with a near immediate understanding of why, awe and also relief. The moment that consumption allowed the power in Kisa's scales to counteract whatever Gaelyn had been poisoned with, the clouds around him seemed to shift and so did Kisa, as if content that her job was now complete. That's where Ivy finally took up the baton, rushing over to Gaelyn's side while Kisa saw off any lingering threat. Not a day went by where she didn't feel grateful for their dragon, but during times like this? Ivy could barely contain it to the thumping organ in her chest. She knew that Kisa felt it, knew that words weren't necessary, but she sent the feeling to her anyway before refocusing herself on the task at hand. Ivy herself had been too fuelled by adrenaline to realise that her hands were shaking and that her heart leapt with the kind of fear she had not felt since she and Gaelyn had been separated during the attack on their school. Her fingers moved swiftly across his chin, his cheeks, his forehead, feeling his temperature and examining his eyes, even as he spoke words that she knew were his attempt to lighten the mood. She was having none of it though; not until she could see as well as feel that he was no longer in danger. "Remind me, not to let you pick the next inn."​ "God, Gaelyn, I'm so… I'm so sorry. This was a stupid idea, I should have known better. I-If anything happened to you because of me..." Ivy shook her head through a shudder, taking a moment to brush some of his clammy dark hair away from his shining skin. "Or maybe just sleep in a ditch next time. Less dramatic lighting, but fewer attempted murders."​ At that though, she couldn't help but let out an unexpected, strangled sounding laugh. "A ditch sounds like paradise compared to this right now." The humour lingered though didn't quite land as she continued to fuss, her attention remaining on the task at hand until she seemed to be struck by an idea, which forced her to move again from the bed with all of the chaotic energy of cat caught in a rain storm. She stopped to rip off a piece of material from one of the bedsheets before heading over to the sink, where she dampened it with cool water and then returned so that she could begin dabbing the cool material across the sides of Gaelyn's neck, in an attempt to soothe what was left of his fever. Kisa had mended the damage that could have been done, but Ivy could at least help by making him comfortable during the process. "If they so much as think about charging for damages…" She muttered under her breath and then proceeded to shake her head again at Gaelyn's following suggestion. "We need to be out of here by morning. Earlier, if we're feeling ambitious."​ "Let's just… focus on getting you back on your feet first. We can leave as soon as we're ready but for now you need to rest. Let Kisa and I keep watch." ​ ​