Darling, You Are Not A War

@caileanthewarrior

Oggy laid down on the beach of some blasted Loqoalan island. Small but not too small, but far enough away from the mainland and from Rajayer to be ignored by everyone but smugglers. The place was adored by smugglers, which was why Oggy was there. Brought his own little schooner and everything. Figuring, quite dumbly, that the whole eclipse business would be a serviceable distraction to smuggle sensitive materials through foreign waters.

Wasn’t counting on the eclipse to make him feel like barfing. It was the strangest thing, thoughts and feelings of marine life surged then stopped. Truly unsettling. If he were a smarter man Oggy would have planned to spend the eclipse with someone else, all romantic like. Re-enact the Vailen myth of the eclipse with Erin, or Aspen if she was up for it. Slumbering gods he’d reach out to anyone if they was up for it. He’d still feel like shit but it’d be a damned sight better than groaning on some abandoned beach watching the sky and-

“What the fuck?” Oggy shot up. Hand wiping over his face as he could barely believe his eyes watching the familiar form of the dragon approach. He was on his feet before he knew what he was doing. Running to Cailean as he came down from the sky toward Oggy’s abandoned little island.

-

His expansive wings moved haphazardly against the wind. The formidable dragon of white feathers found a streak of red across its left wing. There was a crack at the tip, the cartilage shattered by the blade of the Loqoalan sword. But Cailean fled the shattered vessel and frozen island, relying on his need for survival and adrenaline to push him through. In moments where his psyche fought with his intuition, the power of one’s self-preservation was all that won out. The men on the vessel would soon wound him, had he remained to bring a frost onto another island. But the piercing pain of the blood was too severe, as he committed every ounce of strength to build distance.

His large eyes flicker, feeling his senses numb at the sharp pain. It isn’t long before he descends, his form landing on an abandoned speck from the air. The white, feathery dragon lands off the edge of a small island. His consciousness attempts to drift, as his bloody wing felt the coolness of the ocean water. The pain, shock, and agony of his actions almost lulled him into unconsciousness. But the sound of hurried footsteps kept him alert, the sound of the elf’s voice still in his ear. He was to take whoever stood in his way. And though the sun began to peep from beneath the moon, Phelix’s hold was present. In the fray, a familiar scent floods his senses, accompanied by a man. But he’s quick to stagger upwards, slowly transforming into his human form.

“Don’t you dare,” Cailean intimidates purposefully, gripping his bleeding shoulder. His vacant eyes attempted to see, but instead, he merely glowers. The defenses of his bond, still present as the sun began to appear further. “I will kill you, I swear.” Cailean hisses, the sound of the elf ever-present. “I will kill all that stands in my way.”

-

Cressida simply laughed. “If you wanted me to be impractical, you could’ve asked.” She replied in amusement. “As for the frolicking. I don’t know about that.” Cressida joked with a smile. She rolled her eyes in good humor at Cailean mockingly pressing a hand to his chest. At his comment, Cressida paused. “Why do I believe that you just want me to call you handsome?” She quirked with a raised brow as they began towards the tavern. “Is that what you’re after, Cai?”

“I like that you often are. It makes being in your company that more enjoyable.” Cressida gave a tilted nod in agreement when Cailean spoke of the realm. She sighed. “That is true. The road’s are becoming more… well, dangerous.” Depending on the routes. “The same can be said of the waters.” Depending under which flags ships sailed in certain regions. Quietly, Cressida sighed again. Yes, she was a nurse but still even she wanted time away from her crafts. Sometimes. “Why can’t one just live peacefully? And have that given in return from others?” She mused, more than aware that was not the world that they existed in.

“This tavern, is ale their only specialty?” She asked, curious.

-

"Forgive me, history has proven it is a harder argument to win. Springing it on you last minute is easier.” Cailean reminds her coyly. In truth, she simply carried herself with a better sense of decorum. Unlike the warrior, her grace was unfounded elsewhere. “Oh! Certainly! And you, my dear, have failed me immeasurably. I fear that my dashing looks are lost on you. Is it because of my beard? I may remove it, just to hear those splendid words.” His tone is light, with little actual offense intended.

The question prompts a nod in concession, as he picks his words wisely. Cailean prided himself in being a good man. He understood her trepidation and fear of claiming her identity. In fact, Cailean was the true anomaly, proudly displaying his dragonkin heritage and disdain for the rebellion. But he felt it was his duty, from one dragon to another, to highlight her own ability. “Peace is often something we fight for. Not something that comes by our best wishes.” He begins slowly. “In time, maybe you will consider using your abilities to further that belief. I know peace is as important to you, as it is to me.”

“That, and handsome men and women. If that is to your liking.”

It was a passionate kiss as familiar as it was strange. For all of Caliean’s physical superiority, he allows the elf to push him against the wall. The kiss is desperation and disdain, a proper depiction of what remained between them. When their lips part, his breath catches. Smirking, he utters; “You still kiss like a whore.”

Cressida was in the storage room of her apothecary, double checking the inventory and going over what was needed to replenish the stock. Faintly, she could hear her trusted worker, Armando, helping someone. Cressida had exited the store room, eyes focused on the scroll before her when she heard a familiar voice. “Cai,” She greeted with a wide grin. Had time truly escaped so, that it slipped Cressida’s memory that they planned to meet. A laugh left her at Cailean’s question. “I’m not due at the infirmary until later today. Why not both?”

“Tavern first - for you. And then a sobering walk to the infirmary?” Cressida offered with a hint of a smirk before going over to speak Armando. Quietly, she instructed him to close shop alone tonight. Cressida trusted him enough and despite not being an apprentice yet, he was quite knowledgeable in the every day inner workings of what was needed to keep the Blue Phoenix Apothecary running smoothly. Soon, the pair left the shop. “You just want to try your hand at playing nurse. Confess.” Cressida replied with a shake of her head. “Handsome assistant.” She giggled. “I see you’re in good spirits. Am I wrong?”

-

"Will this truly add luster to my coat?” He mutters absently to the steward, fingers wrapped along a vial. But his attention is swept by the dragonkin, an easy smile drawing upon his face. He gently sets it aside, skirting through the myriad of items until he is face-to-face with her. “And here I hoped you would abandon practicality, and frolic through these streets into the wee hours of the morning.” He mocks affectionately, a hand placed upon his chest. But Erlia would not, for the same reasons that Cailean spent hours on end perfecting his swordmanship. She was relentless in her beliefs. It was something that Cailean always admired about her.

“Would I not make a handsome assistant?” Cailean retorts, walking in step as they exited the apothecary. The Loqoalan streets were quiet, save for a few characters. The notable decline in street life only hinted at the growing unrest. With a shake of his head, he turns upon Elira. “You know me, I am often in good spirits. Sadly, the realm is an entirely different matter. As I am sure you are aware.” A traveling nurse such as herself was close to the pulse of the people, after all. “I journeyed to Loqoala after the immediate threat has dissipated.”

-

“Of course I don’t mind. I would be a hypocrite if I said I mind because just as your charms still brings a flush to my cheeks, I’d be inclined to reply with my own playful charm just as I always have.” Riza doubted that she would ever change on that front. Her general flirty nature in a sense would always be intact. No matter how old she got. She could definitely imagine him fighting for her honor. “Proud would only be the start of it. Proud, enamored, and practically swooning had you ever fought for my honor. Curse my ability to be my own rescuer,” she joked. Though there was truth to it. Riza never had anyone fight for her honor because she had always done it herself. Though the image she was conjuring in her mind definitely pleasant. “You’re lucky I don’t go knock over a drink so you’ll have to defend my honor.” She was only joking she wouldn’t go disturb anyone in that manner. She smiled thoughtfully at his question. “Oh there’ve been quite a few that have captured my attention but only temporarily for short periods of time.” And even fewer that she could say she made any real connections with that had made a longstanding impression on her. 

“You better not meet your maker. That is not allowed to happen, long live Cai the sexy warrior,” she told him, hoping that she’d recovered from the momentary blunder of shock, sadness and worry that had filled her initially. “I cannot be held accountable for how I look at you with such tales of bravery being told, but I do know that it’s because you’re a gentleman, that you won’t abandon those ways. But I’ll always have my memories of those not so gentle ways of yours,” she said with a wink. She most definitely wouldn’t forget those particular memories. 

“I’m so sorry to hear that. Here I was hoping that at the very least one of us was living out the happy ending you so deserve. I am quite awful in regards to matters of the heart, so I have no sage advice. It would sound utterly hypocritical coming from a woman who has loved and lost so many times she can hardly count.” 

-

"I find you unchanged, in the best ways.” Cailean marvels in admiration. Humans changed in a blink of an eye, turning from their youth to their maturity as quickly. And though Riza certainly grew older, her temperament remained the same. “Careful. I may dishonor myself if you continue on as you are.” There were moments of doubt that riddled his loyal disposition. He was a man of great spirit and passion. Containing it was a challenge, but one he felt was true to his code. And yet, Riza’s warm pursuit left him reeling. “You will have to do me a kindness and avert your gaze. I fear I may lose myself in it.” He laughs, placing his hand underneath her chin and jokingly averting it elsewhere. “How about this,” he conspires. “The next time I lay siege on a rebellion stronghold, or catch a crafty thief, I shall do it in your honor.”

“Believe me, I will not forget. I still have the scratch marks on my back to prove it.” Cailean boasts, feeling warmed by Riza’s complimentary nature. “And I, in turn, can say I have had the pleasure.” Despite the playful nature in her tone, he is taken aback by her callous response. To gain and lose love was no easy task, especially for those with such fleeting lives. The Riza he’d come to know had a tender heart. Her acceptance prompted a frown, shaking his head. “My endeavor with the princess is a journey. But frankly, I now worry about you.” He places his hand upon hers, eyes shining of friendly concern. “Love and loss are two sides of the same coin. I am not an expert on love of this sort. But in whatever form, you deserve to have it and keep it. If it has not come yet, then it is simply a matter of... Well, destiny.” The dragonkin was not religious by nature, but he knew things came at their own pace.

“Quite a place you have here,” Cailean observes acutely, weaving through the myriad of trinkets and bottles. The dragonkin absently inspects the contents of the Blue Phoenix, admiring the assortment. It was a remarkable thing, what humans did with their limited lifespans. Several of Elira’s sort existed. Generous beings who dedicated their short lives to doing good by others. But the key difference could be found on the scales of her personage. Elira was not a nameless human, but a dragon -- just like him. “Elira?” He speaks of her dragonkin name with ease, allowing it to roll off his tongue. To most, she was Cressida Lucero. A nurse, a benevolent spirit, and a forgettable face. But Cailean felt it was his duty to bring life to the dragon within. There were so few of them remaining. It was neither the time, nor place, to begin dismissing one’s true self.

“Ah, there you are.” He recognizes, catching the stark black hair from within the apothecary. “Shall we get started, or are there broken arms and open wounds in need of mending? I can wait. There’s a tavern down the way that boasted the best Loqoalan ale. Whether it is true or not, has yet to be determined.” A cheeky smile sprawls across his face, taking hold of a nearby shawl and draping it theatrically across his shoulders. “Or I can act as your aid. I’m certain your patients will take to a handsome assistant mending their bandages.”

…

In another world Oggy did stop when Cai pulled him close and kissed him. In another better world, on any day before today, if he had been any less who he was Oggy would have stopped and melted into that kiss. He’d let it become less angry and desperate; Cai clearly wanting to remind him–bodily–of how much they meant to each other. Doing it the only way the dragonkin knew how to get through to him. The closest they’d been were first kisses, that first gentle awkward time with Oggy spouting off into Cai’s open mouth about how this was done and how to use the tongue and watch the teeth and what it could mean to people. What it meant to them. 

In that better world Oggy relented, melted into the kiss like he really wanted to. Adding smaller ones of his own before holding Cai close and pretending there was no distance. Falling back to the bed and asking one last time, one last night to remember what they had. Didn’t have to be much. One more night. Phantom touches would be his souvenir and he could say goodbye to Cai as a friend in the morning. 

“No…” he breathed out. Because Oggy couldn’t do that. This was not a better world and Oggy was only himself. He couldn’t stop himself or give into the kiss before he tore apart the house. He didn’t once think that Cailean would stay just one more night, not when he made up his mind. Not when Oggy was killing him and who he wanted to be–whatever that meant. That was the problem, he didn’t want to know what it meant. Didn’t want to pause and think and try and understand it cause then it’d just start hurting and the elf didn’t want to be the one to feel hurt–he wanted to hurt. 

“No,” Oggy repeated. “No you won’t Cailean. I don’t believe that for a second.” Another lie, because that’s what he was good at–normally. Because of course Oggy believed Cailean, he knew the dragonkin too well to think otherwise. That made it hurt more. He pushed past Cai, intent on beating him to the door, yet lingering as his fingers touched the handle. “I’ll go, leave you to it. Clean up, pack, burn it to the ground, freeze my bedsheets, do whatever the hell you want just be gone by the time I’m back.”

-

“Okay.” Cailean relents pathetically, frozen in place. Arms hovering open, as if he instinctively believed his words would earn him more. But his words of finality, said with all the familiarity of an acquaintance, lingered even after Oggy’s personage is gone. He lingers in the remnants of their home. The bronze cups were strewn over, leftover ale pouring onto the mahogany table. The spoils of their adventures found every conceivable corner. Cailean inhales sharply, Oggy’s scent still palpable in the air. Just moments ago, this was theirs to have. A place to learn and laugh. Now, he was on a quest to unlearn him. And as for his laugh, well, he doubted he would hear it again.

The dragonkin moves slowly, yet precisely, retrieving the last of his items. A number of clothing items, a compass, and literature they enjoyed (he would not dare continue his efforts to read, not until decades later). He dutifully picks up the items, storing them in their proper spot. Finally, he moves outside the threshold of the home. He eyes the setting sun, recalling that his ship set sail at the port at the crack of dawn. A human experience, one that he never had. The first ‘first’ he would have, without Oggy by his side. Cailean’s new life presented itself. One that, when he would look back centuries later, was one of splendor and adventure. Yet, he hesitates, turning his heel. He follows the scent he’s come to know so well, until he finds Oggy seated by a water stream. His back, faced to him, as the sun lit his features. With a somber smile, he goes unnoticed, leaning behind a large tree. Cailean is not certain how long he lingers. But for the life of him, he just wanted to see him one last time.

With a shallow breath, he adjusts the strap against his should. With a turn of his heel, he walks away. And just like that, the dragonkin stepped into his new life, never turning back.

…

“Thanks Cai, really.” Oggy hand to laugh, really physically had to because if he didn’t he wasn’t sure what else he’d do. He hunched over, hands firmly on his thighs seemed to be the only thing holding him up. “What a good job you done. Made me feel loads better, didn’t you. It’s not that you’re leaving me for better things it’s just that I’m rotten isn’t it? Just that I’m so terrible I’m killing you a little every day just by being with me.” He willfully pushed past the actions Cai mentioned, each choice, too upset to reflect on them. It was all him, what he did, what he was good at was who he was. And he clearly disgusted Cai. “Really cleared things up. Weight off my shoulders that is.” He took a deep breath, “And if you’re confused, cause you’re still got a lot to learn about communicating all of that–what I just said–is sarcasm. Biting sarcasm.” His laughter turned to heaving panting as he shook his head. 

“But. You know what?” Catching his breath, his jaw set. Oggy drew himself up straight again, able to lord over his few inches of height on Cailean in his human form. “It is a weight off my shoulder. Cause I was gonna’ leave you myself. Soon as this silly stupid friendship act got old I’d be out the door and across the continent when I please. Really, you’re so damn clingy, touchy-feely, surprised I lasted as long as I did.” His face was manic, recalling plans made when they first met that he promptly abandoned. “Honestly, honest to Faelin, you’re saving me the trouble. Leaving me the house, plenty thoughtful of you isn’t it? Yeah. Should be able to resell it easy.” His eyes took on a wide almost manic look. Lying to yourself felt easier when you repeated it.

“In fact, here, let me help you.” Oggy began to move around the room grabbing handfuls of clothes and items to shove in the sack Cailean was packing. Not a thought or care was given to order, to whether an item actually belonged to the dragonkin or now. He was just moving around like a whirlwind. “Why stop here, yeah? Why not take a few more things to remember me.” He stormed out of the room to go around the rest of their place, by no means a palace but even in a few years a life lived in one place gathered items. A house could tell a story, where items were place, displayed for significance, or forgotten when tossed aside in everyday corners. A story Oggy tore apart handedly as he grabbed things to fill his arms.

-

His Adam’s apple bobs, eyes lit with shock at the manic laughter from Oggy’s personage. Cailean imagined he memorized his laughter at this point. He knew when he laughed out of duty, or cackled at someone’s misfortune. Just as he knew the laugh of ingenuity. But this was not one he was familiar with. It was enraged, mimicking the hurt ablaze in his eyes. He speaks quickly, too quickly. Each word, laced with venom and spiteful humor. His hand tightens into a fist, willing silence upon himself. Like Oggy, Cailean was loud and confrontational by nature. But his friend was enraged. Doing so would only tip the scales further.

It’s not until he’s towering over him, hot breath against his face, that his lips twist into a scowl. “You do not mean that.” He accuses, more than insists. Dragonkin were perceptive a fault. In fifteen years, he knew every inch of Oggy’s temperament and range. “Stop it,” he attempts to interrupt his tirade, raising his hand and placing it against his shoulder. A feeble attempt to push him back. “Stop, stop!” Cailean insists, the relentlessness of Oggy weighing heavy on his shoulders. He can feel his chest tightening, a frustrated tear flushing down his eye ducts. The dragonkin yearned for nothing more than a pause. A moment to breath. But Oggy did nothing of the sort, spewing hateful rhetoric at rapid speed. His eyes are desperate, using his touch to tug the man closer. A sloppy, desperate, and angry kiss felt onto his lips. A distance came between them, and all he wanted was to close it.

But he’s moving again, and fuck, he never did stop? He cringes, watching as trinkets of their life together fell haphazardly into the sack. And as long as it took for them to build, their life together came to a tumbling halt. Once he’s done, Cailean slowly moves forward. His eyes are purposeful, as he takes the sack from his grip. “You couldn’t do it, could you?” He whispers, shaking his head in disapproval. Forlorn, and hurt. “You could not even try and understand.” And for all of his hurt, distrust, and anger... He understood. This was Oggy’s way. And, in return, this was Cailean’s. He throws the sling over his should, passing his eyes across Oggy’s face. A final look of devastation, yet acceptance. For all of his words and actions, he musters something akin to a tender nod. “I’m always gonna love you. Believe that, at least.”

-

Riza felt her cheeks heat at his charm. “You most certainly haven’t lost any of that charm. Still managing to make me blush just as much as I had in my youth.” It felt good to smile, to laugh. To take a moment outside of her more depressing thoughts and enjoy friendly banter with a man that she always enjoyed catching up with and pretending to be normal with. That was until the conversation had made its shift into things that once again caused her conflict and plagued her and questioned where her allegiances would lay. 

“Knowing a soldier like you, strong, brave, determined, has often made me draw upon my own strength and courage over the years.” Knowing Cai had made her better at keeping secrets from Phelix. Secrets of a friendship with a dragon. It had also strengthened her resolve to keep some things in her life separate from The Rebellion and her mentor. Though now, with his words, she would have to intermingle the three - Cai, the rebellion and Phelix. She would have to tell him. There were days the man could read her like a book and she knew that hiding this big thing from him would be difficult, if not impossible. 

The mage took his hand atop hers into her hold, dropping it from his cheek and giving his hand a squeeze. “I don’t wish for you to perish, so I wish for your success on your mission to end the rebellion. If ever you need me, not that I’d be much help in a battle, just let me know what I can do for you.” Riza needed to change the subject, even though part of her, the part that often manipulated people wanted to ask more questions, find out as much as she could. Though she wouldn’t. She wanted to be able to give Phelix as little information as possible. “I can’t say that I’m a fan of violence, but hearing you speak of your bravery, does make me quite flustered.” She let her hand fall from his. “How is the Princess? Dare I say she’s the luckiest woman in all the lands to tame the beast,” she teased. 

-

“Old habits die hard, I’m afraid. You don’t mind it, do you?” He hesitates, if only for a moment. He understood Riza to be affectionate as the rest of them. But human life was tricky, as Cailean understood it. The recklessness of youth often disappeared as one grew older, more jaded. Not that he would do Riza the injustice. But he had to wonder if she’d grow tired of their flirtation, in favor of something true. “What a pity that I never fought for your honor. You would have been proud.” Displays of strength were commonplace among dragonkin. Though they never intentionally hurt one another, it was in good fun. Competitions of flight and strength, meant to woo the heart of one’s mate. And though Riza was not that, he always did think she’d enjoy it. “Tell me, has some dazzling man or woman captured your attention since?” He asks curiously, his head tilted in mild curiosity.

Riza was often curious. In fact, he believed she enjoyed his tales of bravery. Somehow, she appeared distraught by it. He dismisses it as her concern. The rebellion left many unhinged. “I appreciate it. Do not worry too much, Riza. It’s either I, or the rebellion. And I do not plan to meet my maker anytime soon.” The shift in topic seems top of Riza’s mind. He smirks, placing a tortured hand on his chest. “Do not look at me like that. I may abandon my gentlemanly ways.” Cailean chides playfully. Their affections in the bedroom long came to an end. In large part, to her changing focus and Cailean’s time at Theron Hall. “We have not spoken since the camps.” He informs her, waving his hand passively at her taunt. Taming the beast would imply she did it herself. When, in fact, it was his own doing. “As it stands, there is no princess and I.” It was his own doing. For all of his bravery, he could not seem to approach her in the same way. “Perhaps if I could speak better of it, I could handle it with better grace.”

…

Oggy stopped, and just gazed back into Cailean’s eyes. The dragon’s hands holding his face, he let them stay there a beat. His own reaching up to take Cailean’s, fingers tightening as he listened on. The elf didn’t need any hint, any magical connection to know what this meant. He blinked, holding his tongue and his tears back until he heard Cailean mention the order.

“Slumberin’ gods Cai,” Oggy pulled away from the dragon’s touch. Backing up in the room hand unconsciously gripping his shirt, tugging it out right as his heart was beating out of his chest. “The order? Really, those sanctimonious, militant wankers? Really?” He shook his head.

“So what? What was I to you then? A stepping stone. Oh thanks for the fifteen years of good fun and building something together but really Ogs you’re not good enough for me so it’s on to greener pastures. I’d prefer to be used as some kinda magical hammer, nail down every problem that pops up. Feh! After everything- everything I said about them.” Oggy didn’t know what he was saying, only that more words were bound to come up. He closed his eyes, hand covering his mouth and pulling down.

“I don’t want this Cai, I don’t want your gratitude”  His mouth twisted up in a grimace. “You’re the one leaving, you’re the one throwing all this away after I’m no more use to ya’ so you can find better friends. So don’t feel like you’re the better person here Cai.”

-

For a moment, the dragonkin was convinced of their civility. By the touch of Oggy’s hand, he felt sedated. A silent confirmation that his partner and closest friend understood. He imagined themselves, years later, when the a brunt of time had passed. Perhaps they could be something of friends again. Once Cailean established himself, and once Oggy learned from his own mistakes. But such hopes fell as Oggy’s gaze did. The rippling wrath in his tone prevalent, as he darted across the room.

“Yes. Really.” Cailean attempts to usher calmly, raising both his hands as his eyes tracked his movements. At first, he shared in Oggy’s disdain for the Order. Why? Simply because he felt so strongly. Cailean; however, grew to understand the complexity of it. How much of Oggy’s disdain was born from simply not being fit to their ranks? It was an ugly thing. To witness the one you adore, turn grey from the starkness of reality.

“No, no,” he attempts to pacify. However, it was no use. When the Vasharr got in his head, there was little he could do to pull him out. His convictions were made. He steels himself, but even he could not anticipate the sudden accusation. “How can you say that?” He scrunches his brows in disbelief, his own anger spurred by Oggy’s words. “This is not about greener pastures or finding better friends!” He interrupts loudly, cutting him off entirely. “This is about you. This is about the person I am with you.” Cailean’s eyes track to his hands, disgust riddled across his face. “You told me once that people are not dragons. That lines of morality aren’t so sharp. And you used that to justify the things you do, the things you got me to do.” His heart is against his chest, distressed as he breathed heavily. “And each time you got me to lie, or steal, or put my hands on another man... I died, a little bit at a time.” He shakes his head. “Loving you is killing me, and I want to live, Og. I want to live, more than I want to love you.”

“You most certainly do. The finest wine I’ve ever seen,” she added with a smile. She was well versed in complimenting others, finding that most people were inclined to relax around her if they knew she found them pleasant, smart, handsome, and the like. Stroking the egos never failed her. Yet her compliments were always genuine when it came to the handsome warrior before her. A chuckle left her at the mention of being able to catch her attention. She remembered being focused, and very oblivious to most that were vying for her attention when all that had been on her mind was the rebellion and magic. And then there was Cailean. The man had been hard to ignore, catching her attention had been fairly easy, but Riza had been careful not to make the same mistakes she had in her past. No, love wasn’t an option, only fun and companionship until their paths were different, though they still kept in touch. He had remained among the few she had a genuine care for, who didn’t know it but at times saw behind the facade she often wore for everyone around. 

Riza’s eyes rolled as she smiled brightly. “Most important? I’d love to think so, but there are many who have never heard the name Riza Reyes. You over estimate my importance and underestimate the affect the lack of your presence has on the lives others,” she retorted with a playful grin. When he mentioned his endeavors with the rebels, her face fell, a rare moment of genuine emotion. A reminder of the fact that had he truly known her, he would do the same to her. To recover, she reached out to caress his cheek. “I know that you’re a very brave warrior but I’d be lying if I didn’t say those endeavors worry me. What if you were hurt? What would the world do without their most brave and handsome warrior,” she asked, trying to pass the momentary laps in lightheartedness as concern. She hoped that he would stop speaking about his endeavors. She didn’t want to hear it. It would mean a conversation with Phelix. It would mean harming him and she didn’t want to do that, but she also couldn’t keep from Phelix that someone was harming rebels. If he stopped now, she wouldn’t have to tell a soul. 

-

“Second only to you, gorgeous.” Cailean reminds her smoothly, touching her hand from across the table and pressing a gentle kiss on her smooth skin. It stood to reason that his features changed slowly. His lifetime was beyond Riza’s. But even after two decades, she still dazzled with youthful energy and beauty. “Arguably, you look fairer now than before.” Cailean is tempted to comment on the slight change in her appearance. True to his words, she appeared every bit as beautiful as before. But there was an aura to her, one plagued with an unsettling feeling that he could not pinpoint. Dragonkin were intuitive by nature, but he passes it off as the hardship of recent events. It was no easy feat, after all.

“And those who have not are at a disadvantage. The privilege of knowing you makes shithead soldiers like me a better man.” He often marveled at how his relationships improved his skill. The more he fought for, the better he became. Frankly, it were as if he was at the height of his strength. His recent bond with Nymeria pushed him and allowed the flyer to achieve great heights. His debonair smile softens, her touch a startling but welcome action. He never took to the mage as a fearful sort. But he sympathizes with her concerns, placing his own hand atop hers. “Many have tried, all have failed.” Cailean reminds her. “For eight hundred years, I have trained tirelessly for this. An opportunity to bring honor to my kind and my family. I will not rest until I put an end to the rebellion. I’d sooner perish.” His typical, light-hearted demeanor is hardened by his words. He held this principle true to himself. “I eliminated at least twenty. It will not stop there. Nymeria and I will have to decide on where to next, but our efforts will continue.”

Riza grinned brightly when his voice carried across the tavern. The woman that often put on many different faces didn’t exactly have many people that she would say she held near and dear, but Cailean was definitely on the list. Even if she couldn’t tell him who she really was. In her younger days, she had enjoyed his company in and out of the bedroom. The kind of loveless relationship that had been perfect while she was in the rebellion. A friendship that stood the test of time and distance. Though it was most definitely a friendship that she knew would never withstand if Cai knew the real her. Just this once, she lived in the blissful ignorance of a true and happy friendship, not thinking about the fact that he wouldn’t accept the real her. She stood when he neared practically jumping into his arms as he embraced her. A happy laugh left her as he nearly lifted her off the ground. “You’re one to talk, did you get even more handsome in the course of three months?” she asked teasingly. “I think you have. The nerve to be even more dashingly handsome than the last time that I saw you.” When he pulled away, she did a dramatic hair flip. “As if a rebellion could take me down. I’m a survivor. I’m glad that you’ve come through unscathed as well.” Riza gave him a squeeze when he pressed a kiss to her cheek. “I have missed you too. Three months is a long time to not see that face. What has been filling your time these past few months?” 

"It cannot be helped. I age like fine wine.” Cailean boasts, simply glowing amidst Riza’s compliments. Humility for the sake of humility was never his forte. It was a characteristic born from his days in the North, surrounded by frank dragonkin who thought little of polite conversation. “Why, I distinctly recall being the only man in the tavern of the Keep who could catch the attention of Riza Reyes.” In her youth, Riza’s wild and confident spirit drew the desires of men and women alike. Many vied for the title, but for a brief period, Cailean had won her attention and affection. It was not a great love, but he’d grown fond of her. Inevitably, the two spirits moved onto different companionship, but the friendship remained. “I reckon you would not have the time to miss me. Are you not the most important mage the realm has ever encountered?” Cailean coaxes affectionately, his hand resting on her arm as he rubs it sagely. He lounges easily against the wall, bringing the pitcher of ale to his lips. “You speak as if anything is as noteworthy as the reckoning on the Capital months ago. But I do what I do best. Suss out the fuckin’ rebel bastards and make them pay.”

        𝐃𝐎𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐇𝐔𝐄𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐎𝐍  the dragon, even as the door shuts. she’s weary, eyeing him as she anticipates his next move. elia knows it’ll be one of comfort which does little to truly comfort her considering her determination to keep herself from slipping into her grief. there was more to her now that she was left in charge of her family’s legacy. the duchess simply could not afford to embrace her sadness.

          his words urge her out of the thoughts she unknowingly slipped into and she nods, sure that the journey was indeed the best part. especially when one could so easily navigate through the sky. it seemed exciting enough, not that she’d have the privilege to know for herself. it was something she was oddly okay with.

            cailean’s next words do little to prepare her for the warm embrace that he pulls her into. lean frame tenses for a moment before she inhales a deep breath and relaxes into his hold. she doesn’t do much to ignore the sympathetic waves that all but cloud her judgement. though, eliana cannot bring herself to pull away from him. she couldn’t risk hurting his feelings, he was basically family - after all. she remains quiet, until he releases her. only then, she’s sure she can trust herself to speak. ❝ thank you, truly. my father always knew we would have you when… when he was no longer around. ❞ and it was true. there’s a solemn smile offered towards him before she tilts her head, delicately towards a side. ❝ i trust that you’ve been well ?? ❞

-

There’s a hesitance to her embrace that emboldened the dragon to hold her tighter. Eliana, like many first-born nobles, carried with her a stark sense of duty. As was the case with the deceased Tazar of the Kumara’s, in the time Cailean knew him. In her youth, the rambunctious dragonkin often encouraged misbehavior. Small trips to the marketplace without her family’s knowledge, or riding well past the sunset. But it seemed hardly appropriate now. Especially when her father’s passing bequeathed her the heavy duty of command. She would certainly thrive, having been learned in matters of politics. But Theron Hall did more than just trade in wheat or fish -- they commanded the military forces under the Elysian banners.

“You are too kind. Your father would sooner throw a dagger in my direction for leaving my post so suddenly.” Cailean gripes, his lips curled into a mischievous grin. It was plain as day; Eliana did not wish to receive sympathy or be beholden to hard conversation. As a result, he opted for a light touch. It was always his specialty. “The old man was a titan among mere men.” He mutters fondly. “You know me, El. I am well, even when life is otherwise unwell.” And it was true. He lived many centuries, enduring many tumultuous times. From famine to war, he found a way to maintain a sense of health. “I left my rider in the care of a Lord, so that I may see you  personally.” Cailean places a gentle hand against her face, a silent smile of understanding.

“And you, dear? What of you?”

𝘊𝘓𝘖𝘚𝘌𝘋 𝘚𝘛𝘈𝘙𝘛𝘌𝘙 𝘍𝘖𝘙 : @caileanthewarrior​

         𝐒𝐋𝐈𝐌 𝐅𝐑𝐀𝐌𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐋  as the lord in front of her speaks, he’d found her just as she slipped out of her chambers - making her way to the dinning area for breakfast. at least, that had been the attempt. small hands find themselves in front of her, fingers intertwining gingerly before resting against her abdomen. there’s a raise eyebrow etched on delicate features, head nodding slowly and absent-mindedly just as her gaze drifts towards the sound of footsteps.

           she had half a brain to assume it’d be one of her siblings, urging her to the breakfast table. however, as dark chocolate orbs settled on the nearing familiar frame - her expression shifted almost immediately. there’s a sense of uneasiness that settles in the pit of her stomach seemingly blocked by the overwhelming content bouncing off of the lord that remains besides her.

            eliana is not disappointed to see the dark haired dragon, instead, she’s afraid of feeling anything other than numbness, content or… even, confusion. numbed emotions had gotten her through the last few days since her father’s passing. she was afraid to feel and have her composure slip through slim digits. still, the dark haired duchess offers the lord an apologetic smile. ❝ i fear i must excuse myself, my lord. ❞ there’s a soft farewell uttered before she turns to bow her head in greeting.

                                 ❝ cailean… i trust the journey was kind to you. ❞

-

The terrain of Theron Hall was all too familiar to the dragonkin. Its military ranks, locals, and merchants greeted Cailean warmly as he weaved through the city. For centuries, he cemented himself as an instrumental figure in military forces. “Cailean the Warrior Dragon”, as he was known throughout Vailar, drifted to different noble houses throughout the centuries. Apart from his obvious prowess as a dragon with a precognition to the air, he was a skilled fighter. His most recent home was under the Everfield’s helm. After the threat of rebellion exposure in Rajayer, he shifted his sights to the Elysian military. A low profile, wherein he could blend seamlessly among the red face-paint and utilitarian tunics. But it was not long before his skill caught the attention of the now-deceased Duke Everfield, prompting him to receive a notable rank.

Amidst his many responsibilities, Cailean was often tasked with protecting his eldest daughter. He can still recall the day of her birth and the celebrations it created. In fact, he can recall drinking feverishly and the company of beautiful men and women that same evening. But he watched her grow into the woman of today. And now, he had come not as a commander of her guard, but as a friend. As family, almost.

“The journey is often the best part,” he smiles wryly, waiting until the lord exited and the doors to the parlor shut. Without hesitation, he steps forward, his arms open as his tender expression indicates sympathy. “Once I learned of your father’s fate, I knew I must find you and personally speak to my sympathies.” He wraps his arms around her, a comforting hug. Certainly, she was now the Duchess of Theron Hall. But before that, he was her protector.

…

“Hah, yeah sure I do. Look as pretty as you please.” Oggy joked back, but he was unsteady on his feet. “You know I love that black number, need more opportunity to wear it, don’t I?” It was not just that he didn’t buy that he’d look better in anything compared to the dragon; He couldn’t break the feeling that he wouldn’t like what was to come. Cai was impenetrable as ever, the love the dragon felt for those around him, Oggy, was so large as to be slightly frightening. Today things felt different, and  Oggy couldn’t place if it was sudden or he’d only noticed it now.

“What’re talking about Cai?” He blinked. “What’re you- what’re saying?” Mouth dry, as he tried to wet it. He closed his eyes trying to collect his thoughts.

“You want me to? What? Give back the cheese money? I don’t- You’re not making sense.” He shook his head, denial already setting in for what he knew was inevitable. The deck was stacked against him, Oggy knew it. He knew it in his bones, the set of his teeth and the horrible sad and pitying way Cai looked at him now. He knew it as sure as he knew he’d still try and bluff his way out of this. Like he could. 

“I work hard for that money too Cai. Same as anyone else,” But not quite, not really, “I got skills and I figured how to use them.” His throat tightened. “Wha- but, where are you going to go? C’mon you’ve been out among people–humans–for what? Fifteen years? You want to leave all this already? There’s still a lot to see. Hey, if you’re bored of Ravencliff let’s leave. Who cares. Let’s go to Red Keep. Probably lovely this time of year, somewhere in the northlands. It’s chilly up there, you’d like it.”

More fast-talk. More of the same. He hated Cailean then; hated that he wanted the dragonkin to stick around so much he’d try to ply him with words to stay. Hated that Cai would get him to do this.

-

The mention of the black shirt captures his attention. It was not his to have, but he wanted it anyways. A memento of their time together, with Oggy’s scent as a comfort on his journey away. Cailean was brave by his very nature. The few of the Northern dragons who shrugged away his family’s inhibitions, in favor of what else was out there. But he would be braving the human world, without Oggy’s kinship. Cailean could not deny the conflict within him; he was excited, yet fearful all the same. He inhales patiently, the vasharr’s tricks all too familiar. But they weren’t even tricks. Not really.

It was his way of asking him to stay.

His heart tightens in his chest. The weight of Oggy’s reaction blundered into his psyche. He knew the man like the back of his hand. Cailean could feel the pain, desperation, and dare he say... hate in his distressed tone. More than anything else, Cailean prayed he could take away Oggy’s anguish. But the only way to do that was to remain in his place. But he couldn’t. Not anymore.

Without prompt, he turns swiftly towards his. His gruff hands are planted on his cheeks, his intense gaze focused on him. “Thank you,” he whispers quietly, his fingers threading along the stubble of his cheek. “Without you, I would be a lone dragon drifting by the winds. All I have and all I know, I owe to you.” His heart felt like an open wound, drifting from one eye to the other. It was in the half-elf’s nature to roll things off his back and speak quickly. But he had to know this. “You were my whole life. But this is not the life I want. It never was.” Swallowing the lump in his throat, he adds with a shaky chuckle.

“I am leaving for the Order.”