His fingers are itchy, sending shivers up his arms, waiting to release pent-up energy he didn’t realize he had. It’s painful to keep it all inside; his body is both cold and warm, trying to find a balance that feels unattainable within his physical limitations. He will burst if he doesn’t direct that energy somewhere. It’s nothing but wasteland around him, isn’t it?

“Roy, watch out!”

A flash of clarity. Roy—that’s his name.

His face meets the hard soil and suddenly rubble and broken blades are digging into his back and his legs, as he tumbles on several meters until he hits the trunk of one of the fallen trees. He hisses loudly, quickly getting back on his feet even when pain is fogging his mind, and he tries to identify who attacked him. His eyes focus on the silhouettes looming over him, tall and dark and menacing, and like a spell of thunder he’s instantly much more alert, ignoring the blood dripping down his face.

“You’re going to get hurt, get back!”

He doesn’t heed the advice. His hands are shaking with trepidation, and his whole body is asking for a fight. He distantly thinks he has never used his claws before, or his fangs, or his magic, but it all sounds inconsequential when he can simply learn to use them right this instant. The energy within his body flows freely, pulling him in capricious directions, as if he’s only a doll controlled by invisible strings.

The silhouette is slowly filled with colors and shapes, taking the form of a terrifying and monstrous dragon. He’s seen them before—watched them appear before him with fright, despair crawling on his spine. But this was when he didn’t know how to fight back, when all he had was a blunt sword and none of the strength and knowledge. He rises, stands taller and braver, embraces the comforting cold that is slowly enveloping him, and he lunges.

He remembers what happens next in fragments. He has never been the fastest or most robust boy—though he’s developed impeccable footwork and incredible endurance to defend those he holds dear as long as he can, gladly letting other people dealing the final blow. However, at that moment, a single swipe tears a gash into hardy scales and the volume of his roar causes flinching. His enemies are stepping back from him, intimidated and wary, or maybe furious and uncomprehending, but they see him as the most dangerous opponent. It was everything he wasn’t; his legs carried him from one enemy to another, performing a dance of attacks that left him bruised and battered but always bouncing back to eliminate the threat.

There is fire. There are lacerations and one too many shoves that made him stumble. There are people helping and guiding him, though he doesn’t remember their words.

When all was done, his enemies struck down and his adrenaline died down, everything becomes quiet. His frozen fingers and his headache pull him back into the reality of his own aching body, and he collapses—exhausted and, deep within his heart, afraid of opening his eyes again.

***

Someone is humming a familiar song. It’s soothing, washing over him like a comforting spell plucked from his dreams. The world around him comes back in layers and splashes of colors.

“Is…”

His throat is scratchy, dry and heavy, as if he spent the last few days screaming. It sends him into a coughing fit and suddenly the humming stops, letting in its stead a stream of worried sentences.

“Oh Roy, easy there. Here’s some water for you.”

The waterskin handed to him is half empty already, and he recognizes it as his own. Sitting up, he takes slow and small sips, holding the waterskin with shaking fingers. It does little to clear the fog of his mind, but at least his voice recovers some usage.

“Lilina,” he says, something akin to shame crawling in his tone.

“You have been unconscious for a few hours,” Lilina tells him softly. “We managed to set up camp without much of a fuss thanks to Merlinus and Marcus. Alan carried you on his horse.”

“I will have to apologize to them…”

Silence falls in the tent. Roy looks at his hands, devoid of injuries and of aches, only slightly trembling because of his own anxiety. He doesn’t feel any pain anywhere on his body, as if he hasn’t been fighting. He’s tired deep in his bones, though, and he’s thinking about all the damage his body could have sustained were he in his current human form.

“You… seem to remember what happened,” Lilina observes.

Her voice isn’t tainted with anger, but with concern. The lump in Roy’s throat thickens.

“I know I have been careless,” Roy replies, shaking his head. “I should have paid attention to my surroundings.”

“Nobody could have predicted that this spell would hit you, and trigger your powers. Don’t blame yourself for something you had no control over.”

Lilina places her hands on his own, squeezing lightly. She’s speaking patiently to him like she’s afraid he will crumble under the weight of his actions.

“I could have hurt anyone,” Roy mumbles.

“But you didn’t. And you were keenly aware of who your enemies were. Everyone in our army knew they shouldn’t approach you in this state.”

Roy chances a glance at Lilina—her face is devoid of judgment, her eyes clear as crystal as she directs her familiar gentle gaze at him. It’s not the first time she shows such kindness after terrible events have occurred; her strength is heavily tied to her kindness, and Roy feels foolish for thinking she’d be upset with him and not by the situation itself. He lets out a low chuckle, tension leaving his shoulders as he chases after the warmth of Lilina’s hands with his own.

“I don’t know what I would do without you by my side,” he whispers.

The grin stretching Lilina’s lips recover some of the teasing quality she always dons on whenever Roy acts particularly awkward.

“Well, you don’t have to think about it. I’m not leaving you.”

“Thank you for everything, Lilina.”

   “Sir?” Father Yoder prompted him. “I asked, do you take this young lady to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

   “I do.” Roy said, voice strong and full of conviction. His eyes alight, like a dancing fire, with his love.

   Lilina smiled. A blush, like roses, bloomed in her rounded cheeks. Her heart pounded as she expectantly, as politely as she could, waited for Father Yoder’s next words.

   “And do you, Lilina of House Ostia, take this young man to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

   “I do.” Lilina said. Her voice like a warm breeze.

   Roy took a breath, chest proudly rising as he held Lilina’s hands a little bit tighter but she didn’t mind. She understood the impulse very well.

   “With these vows, the pact between both man and woman, the humble individuals, is sealed, they will care for each other in sickness and in health, in wealth and in poverty, to be by one another’s sides until death do they part but also, the pact between the powers of Ostia and Pherae, is made. I foresee only the grandest peace and prosperity in the future after this wedding. If only your fathers could see you now…” Father Yoder both lectured and lamented. “But it is my utmost and sublime pleasure to pronounce you both, husband wife. You may now kiss the bride.”

   The congregation made up of their closest friends, family, and comrades applauded thunderously. It echoed through the garland-hewn meadow and beneath the blue sky, devoid of clouds but not birds which swooped about above them. And yet, despite this good and fun and raucous noise around them between these two lovebirds, not a nary sound could be heard.

   With a quivering heart, Roy gently let go of Lilina and had the spousal delight of being the one to remove her veil. He lifted it up and off her face, trying his best not to scuff her perfectly coiffed hair. It was all intricately plaited and pinned to just above her neck with all her fringe left as it usually was.

   Lilina smiled a small but heartfelt smile. She had never felt more at peace as Roy readied himself, once more taking her hands. Her immaculately trimmed nails half edging along the coarse love lines of Roy’s palm.

   He leaned in and when their lips met, it felt like magic. The kiss was of faint breaths and chaste sensations; it was so little but far too much all the same, Roy stopped. Completely. He pulled back and it was jarring.

   “Is something the matter?” Lilina asked, afraid that she had done something wrong.

   “No, not at all,” Roy assured her, his voice stunted with shock, “I’m just. Awed,” he confessed, “this is the first kiss of the rest of our lives, it's almost too much for me.”

   “I understand.” Lilina whispered, something of a giggle on her quietened breath.

   They kissed again, once more initiated by Roy and the kiss which ensued was far more natural feeling than their first. It was more evocative of the kisses which they had shared between one another in the past. It was a mutable kiss which did not jolt their nerves and the like but rather incited them to melt into one another with the trust and love that only a couple such as themselves, built from a childhood friendship, forged in the crucible of war, could have. 

   The kiss ended with a sigh which escaped Lilina’s dainty mouth. She smiled, eyes crinkling with joy, and Roy beamed unto her.

   “With the power of Saint Elimine, I bless this union and all the fruits to come of it. I pray for their joy and their resilience, I pray for healthy children and fertile lands, I pray for Roy and Lilina,” Father Yoder added. “I can only ask that the congregations pray for the happy couple of the now conjoined House Ostia-Pherae as well.”

   “Amen.” The combined voices of the congregation boomed.

   “I dismiss this service, may Saint Elimine be with us all.”

   Roy took sneaking glances around them, his heart pounded with the assurance that he was among his closest friends to affirm and witness his marriage to his most dearest friend. It was awe-inspiring, he found. His wandering eyes then returned to Lilina whose own gaze had turned dewy. Her hands, like flowering lichen, clambered up along Roy’s arm, linking them and pulling him close.

   Lilina snuggled in close, and smiled. “Let’s go eat some cake, yes?”

The sun was bright and the sky was clear, breathtaking blue on a warm summer day for the Order. As such, the summoner used this to their advantage, and gave everyone a day off from training to travel the beach and make the most of the beautiful weather. Some played in the ocean, while others took to building some sandcastles. Lilina, however, decided she was happiest just sitting under a tree while she took in the scenery of it all.

In her hands was a rather interesting concoction from the summoner's world. It was cold on her tongue when went to taste it, but it was also very sweet. Ice cream, she believed they called it? Whatever it was, she was thoroughly enjoying it, and she made a mental note to get a recipe from them later on.

She furrowed her brows in curiosity when she felt a hand on the top of her head. She looked up to find Roy, a longtime dear friend to her, standing above her. His hair was a somewhat darker shade of red from how soaked it was, little droplets falling down and landing on the sand. The rest of his body had drips cascading down it as well, perhaps from some time in the ocean with Fae.

“Want some company?” He smiled down at her.

“If it’s your company, that would be wonderful.” She responded, watching as he sat down beside her. “I take it Fae talked you into swimming with her?”

“Both her and that small girl from Nifl.” He chuckled. “They seem to be getting along rather well. It’s great to see her making some new friends.”

The pair exchanged words over various topics, from how their training was going to the activities they witnessed the other heroes partaking in. Eventually they came to the subject of the cold, creamy treat that Lilina was consuming. She described it to Roy how the summoner described it to her, and it left him intrigued.

“Do you think I could try some of it?” He asked. She nodded her head in response, holding the cone out in front of him.

As he stuck his tongue out to taste the concoction, a humorous thought entered Lilina’s mind. With a sly grin on her lips, she shoved the ice cream in Roy’s face, watching eyes widen and hearing him let out a small gasp from the surprise. When she pulled back the treat, she saw that some of it was coated around his mouth and a little on the bottom of his nose, resembling a beard made of the ice cream.

“Oh… I think you got some on your face.” She informed him, feigning innocence and unable to fight back her laughter.

“I suppose I do.” He replied. “Although soon I won’t be the only one.”