A Dash of Luck [Asuna feat. Pumi]

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    • "I assume there’s no chance of getting the guy to agree to any kind of secrecy pact?"
      "I can assure you that we don't need one. I have only ever met one more person hoarding knowledge as much as Baxter. Besides: half the people they meet don't believe a word they say."
      Dane stopped himself before blurting out the reason for such behavior towards Baxter. He had a feeling talking about insanity would be somewhat counterproductive in his efforts to gain Jona's trust. Better not to speak of such things.
      Reluctantly, he let Ro go when he got up. Dane had no way of knowing what would happen next, but he could sense Ro's distrust, which put him on edge as well. Every bit of context Dane had pointed at a troublesome interaction; every single one he'd had so far turned out unpleasant enough.
      "The warlock won’t arrive right away. We’ve got time to gauge things," Jona declared.
      "Well, actually..."
      Dane was ignored and the Drakin proceeded. So he turned to write another text message to Mace, telling him to wait until he gave the go-ahead. One of these days Dane would let these Drakin eat their own ego...
      "What’s he like, personality-wise?"
      "Who?"
      "Your dragon."
      "Maybe a bit arrogant? And he always seems to be in a bad mood..."
      "He's like an old man who doesn't want to be disturbed during his midday nap, but children keep playing in his yard," Dane added.
      He leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs. Part of him was concerned about Ro, yes, but he couldn't help himself: he was curious. Whatever was going to happen next would present him with unique information; information valuable enough to change his context and information only a selected few held. It didn't matter that he wasn't able to share this information. Merely having it already scratched an itch. Ro wasn't the only collector here.
      Dane immediately disliked the shift in atmosphere in the cabin, the second it took hold. It wasn't just the cold - with that he could deal. In fact, he did. His body temperature remained the same, and he created a little bubble of warmth for himself, fending off the extreme drop in temperature Jona caused. No, the thing that bugged him was the fact that he attacked Ro in a way. Thankfully, it didn't take long for Ro to respond and push back against the icy storm brewing.
      And then the beast showed itself. Dane had seen those eyes before, he had touched this creature before. Still, he was aghast at the power it held. He sensed the attack a mere heartbeat before Ro's body moved and slammed into Jona. To his credit, the older Drakin handled himself quite well. He sidestepped the initial attack and halted any kind of forward momentum Ro had with a simple twist of his own body. Dane had been ready to catch his partner, but he needn't have worried. Still, he flinched when Jona threw Ro to the ground, pinning him down with practiced ease. He had done this before, clearly.
      "Arrogant is such an understatement," Jona grumbled.
      "It's not like we didn't tell you before," Dane retorted, keeping his eyes on Ro - or rather his dragon - who tried to wiggle free with all the strength he had. The lizard seemed to be stuck in Ro's natural abilities, however, giving Jona enough room to keep him in check.
      “I’m just going to blame Aimeric for the fact that he’s not exactly fond of other dragons."
      "I don't see what else could elicit such a response."
      "This kid doesn’t make it easy, even for me."
      Maybe it would be easier if you were nicer to him and let the old-man-dragon go back to sleep, Dane thought. He didn't say anything.
      "I’ll de-escalate this, and then we’ll talk to the warlock. Sound good?"
      "You do what you must," Dane replied.
      Despite his words, he got up and crouched down next to Ro's face. He knew that his partner wasn't there, not consciously anyway. Still, he gently stroked his thumb along Ro's cheek, murmuring: "Come back to be."


    • Ice-cold and unyielding, Jona remained perched on Ro’s hips, who was still fighting back with all his might. What the young Drakin couldn’t accomplish with his restrained body, he attempted to compensate for with an unfiltered surge of magic. As though fully prepared for it, Jona met the wave of magic with his own. Instead of blocking it, he redirected and wove it into his own magic, causing the stalactites on the ceiling to grow even longer. The temperature had somewhat normalized, and the ice was already starting to drip.
      “I’m afraid he needs to completely exhaust himself first. We...” Jona frowned as Ro launched a concentrated burst of magic at him. “We can’t simply stop another dragon’s outburst. They need to retreat on their own.”
      Beneath him, Ro growled, his fingers clawing at nothing. Even as Dane rose from his seat and approached him on the floor, the Drakin’s eyes remained fixed solely on the figure above him. When the demon stretched out his hand toward Ro’s face and touched him with his thumb, Jona inhaled sharply, ready to intervene—but he was too late.
      “Come back to me,” Dane murmured softly, and in that instant, he captured Ro’s attention.
      The pulse of magic Jona had been steadily diverting suddenly tore away from him and sought a new target. A silent explosion marked the abrupt transfer of magic through the small point of contact at Ro’s cheek to Dane. The Drakin’s azure-blue eyes snapped to the demon, who, whether he wanted to or not, was forced to withdraw his hand by the sheer magnitude of raw magic. For a brief moment, a flicker of realization seemed to ignite in those otherworldly eyes, and Ro’s strained expression shifted. A diabolical grin spread across his lips.
      “Hey, hey, hey!” Jona grabbed Ro by the nape of his neck, pressing him even harder against the floor. Ro groaned, the grin fading from his face. “Don’t touch him unless you can redirect the magic instead of just absorbing it. He’s going to keep flinging magic until he burns out enough for Ro to take back control. Isn’t that right, Ro?”
      For a visible moment, the resistance stopped, but then Jona once again became the target of magical attacks.
      “I must admit, though, I didn’t expect such an extreme reaction. Knocking is supposed to be more of a greeting, not… an attack? But at least his dragon is still there and can manifest itself somewhat. That’s better than not showing any physical symptoms at all,” Jona remarked as Ro’s attempts to free himself gradually weakened. “But why isn’t he speaking? What’s stopping him?”
      Suddenly, Ro’s body went slack. Only a few seconds later, the young man groaned again. His eyes were closed, and his cheek rested against the floor. “...Heavy… Get off…”
      Jona blinked, slightly confused, and hesitated a moment longer before rising from Ro and withdrawing his aura to normal levels. The room’s humidity had risen due to the continuously melting ice, and puddles had formed across the floor.
      “You’re not going to lash out randomly, are you?”
      “No…” Ro rolled onto his side sluggishly. He felt utterly drained, but when he reached out to sense his dragon, he found it cocooned inside him once more, as though it were the very picture of innocence. “I think he’s sulking.”
      “What an ego… But stay down for a bit. You’ve burned through a lot of magic all at once.” Jona sighed and rubbed his wrists before casting an apologetic glance at Dane. “He’s fine otherwise. It’s just exhaustion. Still, I’m sorry things got a bit out of hand.” He paused, looking genuinely uncomfortable as he scratched his chin. “What’s your warlock up to?”

    • Dane wasn't stupid. He was concerned about the man he loved, but he knew that right now, he was facing a dragon. It didn't surprise him when said dragon lashed out with its magic. Dane took a bit of it but it came too fast for him to deal with it completely, so he withdrew his hand with a sigh. His hand was ice-cold compared to his usual baseline. He shook it out a bit and pressed the coiling magic inside him down, expanding it across his whole body with the help of his tattoos. The magic told him just how angry this dragon was. Dane would've loved to know where this anger came from. Helping that lizard would help Ro after all.
      "Knocking is supposed to be more of a greeting, not… an attack?"
      "How would you feel if you were such a powerful creature, but you were trapped inside a prison of someone else's making?" Dane retorted, keeping his eyes on Ro. "All that power, and you know you have it, but you are forced to stay quiet, coiled up in a tiny space, unable to experience simple things as touching something, smelling something. All the while, you can only watch as someone else is living a life you should be part of. I would be angry too. I would lash out like this, the second I get the chance."
      In fact, Dane had. He had the theory that most of what Demons did could be traced back to a similar source. They were made with fully intact memories of a life they never had. They were trapped in a dimension with nothing in it but fire and other Demons until some mortal was stupid enough to summon them or a portal opened in some other way. And then you stumbled into a world you know but have no idea how to navigate. A world that is so highly allergic to you that your mere existence is at risk with every breath you take as long as you don't have an anchor.
      A drop of water fell from the ceiling, hitting Dane right in the neck. He flinched, then glowered at the ice castle these two Drakin had built inside the cottage.
      "...Heavy… Get off…"
      Ro's aggressive aura dissipated in the blink of an eye, shortly followed by Jonas. Dane felt like he could breathe again.
      He helped his partner up into a sitting position. Then he put his hand in the largest of the puddles on the floor. The water evaporated in an instant. With a flick of Dane's wrist, the icicles on the ceiling turned into water as well, but that, too, turned into vapor with a hiss. Dane localized his powers to only the ice and water droplets, but he also raised the temperature in the room again. Ro tended to shiver when he was exhausted.
      "What’s your warlock up to?"
      "Waiting for me to give them the go-ahead. Contrary to your uninformed statement from earlier, they were ready to arrive right away. But someone had to flood my cottage first."
      Dane didn't even try to hide his discontent. It was nothing compared to the disdain he felt towards Drakin society, but still. This was - technically - his house, and they were talking about his expert, yet Jona had taken it upon himself to dictate what to do without even asking first. So much for houserules.
      Carefully, Dane wrapped his arms around Ro and carried him over to the small sofa, so he could get comfortable. Dane took great care to arrange the handmade pillows around his partner.
      "May I tell them to come?" he asked Jona, as if he was interested in the man's answer.
      He pulled his phone out and texted Mace. A mere two seconds later, there was a knock at the door. Mace didn't wait for any word, just opened the door, glowered at Jona and the high humidity in the air, then let Baxter in.
      "You need me?" Mace asked. Dane shook his head.
      "There's fresh ice cream in my freezer," he said.
      Mace nodded with a grin and closed the door. He would not show a stranger Drakin his powers, but Dane knew the second that the door clicked into place, Mace was already in his kitchen, hunting down that ice cream.
      Baxer, in all their strangeness, just stood there. They seemed distracted, but Dane knew better: they were having a conversation with their other parts.
      "Baxter. This is Jona. Jona, this is my warlock Baxter."
      Baxter's eyes snapped to Jona, suddenly focusing on this present instead of whatever present they'd been in before. A smile slowly spread across their face, one of those unsettling ones. There was always this weird disconnect between different parts of Baxter's body, all because of their fractured nature.
      "You brought us another rarity. Two in one year," they said. "How will we ever repay you?"
      Only after they were done speaking the words did they turn their attention towards Dane. He was used to it, but he also knew just how unsettling Baxter could be for other people. Especially those who have never met them before.
      "You can repay me by answering this one's questions and by not talking about this meeting to anyone but yourself."
      Baxter paused. Or rather, they froze. For a couple of seconds, they didn't even blink. Then they nodded: "Agreed."
      Now they turned towards Ro, their smile vanished, a heartbeat passed, they started to frown.
      "How is our youngest patient?" they asked.
      "Your potion worked, don't worry."
      "We are not worrying. We know our potion worked. But he is clearly exhausted and in some form of distress. We want to know why."
      Dane sighed, looking over at Ro. He grabbed his hand, drew little circles with his thumb.
      "This one," he nodded towards Jona, "tried to talk to the Dragon. It didn't go so well."
      "Does anyone present require medical attention in a physical, magical, or spiritual way?" Baxter asked.
      "No. We're good. Just answer this one's questions, so I can get Ro home to rest."
      Baxter nodded and turned towards Jona again. "He may ask his questions now."


      Dieser Beitrag wurde bereits 1 mal editiert, zuletzt von Insane Pumpkin ()

    • "I beg your pardon," Jona said softly, his hand moving from his chin to the back of his neck. "I must admit, I was genuinely curious about Ro’s condition. A bit hasty of me."
      Ro, still seated on the floor and trying to acclimate, sniffed quietly. Dane seemed to notice, as he lifted the young man without hesitation and carried him to the couch, where he could sit comfortably. A faint smile flickered at the corners of Ro’s mouth. He buried his cold hands in his pockets, but the strange sense of emptiness lingered.
      "May I tell them to come?" Dane asked Jona, who gave a brief nod without further comment.
      Jona watched the demon take out his phone and type a message. Even before the knock came at the door, Jona’s gray eyes had already fixed on it, a spark flickering in his irises. His icy aura remained unchanged, though his posture betrayed a certain tension.
      When Mace opened the door, he instantly captured the Ice Drakin’s undivided attention. Something predatory flickered in Jona’s expression, but he remained silent. For him not to recognize Mace as a demon, especially with Dane right there for comparison, was unthinkable. But Jona was both too clever and too experienced not to draw certain conclusions. Ro could clearly see it from his position as an observer. He knew that expression well — it was the same one he wore when questions arose and the mental gears began to turn. He also knew Jona would soon be asking him questions. After all, Ro was the one living among demons.
      "Do you know how many demons are here?" Ro muttered to Jona.
      "Perhaps."
      "You’re the worst."
      "You still like me."
      Ro snorted again before glancing at Baxter and offering a modest wave. Jona, on the other hand, stared down the warlock as though he were a natural enemy. Unlike the others, Jona neither extended his hand nor spoke right away. He scrutinized the warlock, who stood awkwardly in the room, frozen in place. Ro could practically hear Jona questioning what was wrong with the man.
      That changed when Baxter seemed to realize there was another Drakin present and noticed Jona for the first time. The slow smile that spread across the warlock’s lips was, to put it mildly, unsettling. Coupled with his words, it sent Jona’s walls skyrocketing. Ro noticed because the icy aura abruptly vanished — reduced to the faint trace of cold that naturally accompanied any living being. When he tried to sense Jona’s presence, he encountered an impenetrable barrier—absolute magical and mental defenses. Ro hadn’t reacted this strongly to Baxter. Had he simply been… naive?
      "I am neither a gift nor anything else," Jona said quietly, his voice ice-cold. Yet his interest remained unbroken. Whatever he saw in the warlock was more than Ro had ever suspected. But then, Ro had no idea what Jona had seen or experienced in his life. How he wished he could read his relative’s mind at that moment. Instead, both Drakin remained silent while the warlock and demon conversed.
      With each word, deeper lines etched themselves into Jona’s brow. When the conversation turned to some substance Ro had apparently taken, Jona shot his younger relative an almost accusatory look. Ro responded with a shrug. It was clear Jona felt uneasy — at least in Baxter’s presence.
      "He may ask his questions now."
      To Ro’s surprise, the Ice Drakin hesitated for a long moment. He saw Jona’s jaw muscles tighten and could almost sense the internal calculations taking place. No doubt Jona was trying to reconcile his curiosity about the warlock with what was strictly necessary.
      "Mr. Blackwell reported that you…" Jona’s frown deepened as he noticed the pronouns Baxter used. "You touched Ro and claimed to have determined that his name is missing. How? How exactly did that manifest?"
      "There’s no 'claimed' about it," Ro interjected.
      "Isn’t there? Have you ever once questioned whether he’s telling you the truth?"
      That struck a nerve. Ro shrank slightly, only stopped from withdrawing completely by Dane’s hand on his own. "I know you haven’t because Mr. Blackwell vouches for him. Still, even those close to you can stab you in the back."
      "You don’t need to tell me…"
      "Where are you researching to find an answer as to how a name could be stolen?" Jona pressed on, his keen gaze flicking to Baxter’s gloved hands for a brief moment, his eye twitching slightly. It was clear Jona wanted to ask entirely different questions than those related to Ro. "…And why aren’t you, like so many other warlocks, overwhelmed after contact with our dragons?"
      There was a strange undertone in Jona’s words. Ro noticed it but couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was. It sounded as though Jona were… trying to confirm something. Beneath the flawless defenses the Ice Drakin had raised, something buzzed and hummed. Ro could sense it in the subtle flickers of Jona’s aura. He had never seen his relative like this before.

    • Dane pushed Ro's legs aside a bit so he had room to sit down next to him. He kept his expression in check to not show how much he was looking forward to this exchange. Baxter was a creepy creature at the best of times, but the tension Jona showed right away spoke to a much deeper feeling of unease or even fear. Dane didn't need to be able to read magical auras to detect that. His people-reading skills were good enough for that. This would be fun.
      "You touched Ro and claimed to have determined that his name is missing. How? How exactly did that manifest?"
      As always, Baxter took a second before answering. Most people would think they carefully picked their words to not reveal too much or to phrase it in a way even idiots could comprehend their complicated work. In truth, the part of Baxter that was here conversed with all the other parts of Baxter to find the easiest answer. Thinking with a handful or two of people took some time, but Baxter was a master at doing so, requiring only a couple of heartbeats.
      "After the problem was presented to us in full, we elected to examine the patient's spectral body. He is not the first Drakin we examined so we knew his anatomy in every regard. We know where your names are located. This one," they pointed at Ro without looking, "had none. The location where his name should be instead shows a massive scar. It is quite ugly. We would've done a more precise job."
      Dane could almost see Jona's eye twitch while he listened to Baxter's explanations. He couldn't say if it was the way Baxter was speaking - almost robotic and most definitely alien to any other social convention - or what they were talking about, given that the Drakin didn't like non-Drakin to have any kind of information. Either way, Dane was entertained.
      Jona's side comment, on the other hand, triggered a whole different emotion. Dane had to bite his own tongue bloody to not go off on the man. How dare he question his devotion to Ro?! His grip on Ro's hand got a little tighter.
      "Where are you researching to find an answer as to how a name could be stolen?"
      "Many sources," Baxter replied. "We will not reveal their location or origin. Be assured they are varied, to have a large enough sample size to make the most accurate predictions for our patient."
      There it was! Dane scratched his own chin to keep himself from smiling when he saw Jona's eye actually twitch. He lifted Ro's hand to his lips and pressed a gentle kiss onto the back of it.
      "And why aren’t you, like so many other Warlocks, overwhelmed after contact with our dragons?"
      A good question, Dane thought. He had no idea if Baxter would tell him. He didn't know how secretive they were about their... condition. He knew what had happened to Baxter was infamous, but he didn't know how famous the names attatched to the whole thing were or how comfortable Baxter was with that connection being made.
      "We are not like so many other Warlocks," they replied simply. "We can do many things other Warlocks cannot do for we have fewer limitations. Our skills are varied. This one," they pointed at themselves, the body present in this cottage, "has elected to focus on research and health. When our friend asked for help, we helped in the best way possible and sent this one. Touching the Dragon wasn't pleasant. We didn't like it. Neither did our patient. But it had to be done. And it had to be done to perfection. That is why we didn't crumble. It helped that the Dragon's name was missing - and with it much of its power. We will not be able to touch this Dragon with its name."
      Interesting, Dane thought. He hadn't known Baxter's limitations. To be fair, Baxter's capabilities were hard to quantify, given their unique circumstances.
      "You are quite nervous. May we ask why? Is our presence disturbing your balance?"
      Again, Dane had to keep it together to not just burst out laughing. No matter what Baxter said, he definitely owed them at least a drink for this performance. It had to be one. Even when talking to the collective, they usually let one person take the lead to avoid specifically this kind of discomfort in the people they were talking to. But this... this was pure comedy.
      "If it is a prolonged issue, we might be able to help."
      Baxter actually reached for the tip of their right glove, ready to pull it off. Dane didn't think they would go that far. But on the other hand... Jona was a full-blooded, older Drakin. Maybe they actually wanted to see what he was made of?


    • Merely hearing that this strange warlock had once touched a Drakin didn’t exactly make Jona more inclined to approach him with goodwill. Admittedly, the Ice Drakin gave Baxter credit for apparently not having shared any information. Still, the whole situation left a bitter taste. The fact that Baxter knew where to locate a name was already proof enough that it could indeed be forcibly taken.
      "If you know where a name can be located, then others can too. And that makes the theory of theft far less implausible," Jona mused aloud. He did this primarily for Ro, who had snuggled closer to Dane, stealing some warmth from him. "How nice of you to think you can do better..."
      Ro continued watching his relative. He couldn’t shake the feeling that while Drakin were hoarders of all sorts of knowledge, they weren’t omniscient. Jona hadn’t known that names could be removed. Nor did he know they could be located. This raised the possibility that not only Ro but all Drakin lacked the ability to perceive the astral body. Ro’s train of thought halted only when Dane squeezed his hand more firmly. In response, he clasped his partner’s hand with both of his and rested his head on Dane’s shoulder.
      "We are not like so many other warlocks," Baxter said, and a barely perceptible nod from Jona suggested that the Drakin had already reached the same conclusion.
      Ro turned his head to bring his lips closer to Dane's ear. "Jona will sense that something is different about Baxter. I think he’ll figure out that Baxter can recognize some names too..."
      Jona tilted his head slightly as Baxter gestured to himself. Either Jona was overinterpreting the words, or he was onto something. In any case, the Drakin seemed to be piecing things together.
      "We will not be able to touch this dragon with its name," Baxter concluded, and Jona’s eyes widened.
      "The question is whether a warlock of your age could even stand up to a hostile dragon," the Ice Drakin remarked, deliberately omitting the fact that the limitation likely had to do with the Regra status. His comment triggered something, as his aura began vibrating more intensely than before.
      Whatever had gotten into Baxter, he didn’t back down. "You are quite nervous. May we ask why? Is our presence disturbing your balance?"
      Even Ro had noticed by now that the warlock’s behavior was different from what he remembered. The way Baxter acted didn’t align with how he’d been on the day he handed Ro the pills. Ro knew Baxter wasn’t just one person, but he’d remembered him as… steadier. Not so… formal?
      Jona demonstratively crossed his arms over his broad chest. The lines on his forehead remained, and all that was missing was for him to tap his arm with his index finger. "Let me put it this way: my ego isn’t as inflated as that of my kin. I’ve got a demon sitting here, a second one who can practically appear on command, and you, despite your — let’s be honest — fragile body, cannot be ignored." He uncrossed one finger and gestured around the room. "A lot of powerful auras in a very, very small space."
      Ro stared at Jona. No, Jona wasn’t afraid… The way he stood made it clear that fear had nothing to do with it. It was more like… respect? It was the first time Ro had seen this kind of posture from one of his own. No arrogance, even though Jona could undoubtedly defend himself. But he was far too at peace with himself and his abilities for it to be fear.
      Jona cast a fleeting glance at Ro, a look Ro almost missed since his eyes were already fixed on his relative.
      Did Jona assume that Ro practically had at least one monster in the room under his control?
      As Dane held himself together — something Ro could sense distinctly from his aura — Ro felt a pang of unease in his stomach. If everything went downhill here, whose side would he take? His partner's or his family's? The one that didn’t constrain him?
      "If it’s a prolonged issue, we might be able to help," Baxter added, already beginning to remove his gloves.
      "Thanks, but I think I’ve got everything under control," Jona declined politely, and finally, the twitch around his eyes emerged. "Honestly, you shouldn’t be so eager to touch one of us. You might run into someone like Ro... only with their name."
      True enough. If the explanation was correct, then Jona was also a Regra! Or at least it seemed likely. That might also explain why he could redirect Ro’s magic so easily or roughly predict what to expect…
      "Why don’t you tell me instead what kind of Drakin you touched before, and why? I’d be very curious to know." Jona adopted a lighter, conversational tone that didn’t quite match his posture. He still looked like he was on high alert, ready to react the moment Baxter took even a single step forward.
      Ro couldn’t hold back anymore. His lips still hovered near Dane’s ear as he asked, "Has Baxter always been this strange in his behavior, or did you tell him to act this way? He asked me before taking off his gloves… I don’t think he should touch Jona."
      He glanced over at his relative, who still stood motionless, resembling an ice statue.

    • Dane would pay quite the amount of money to know what Baxter was thinking at the moment. He knew Baxter worked in different ways, and they had all found some peace with their own existence. But being called "fragile" had to cause at least one of the collective to shake their head, right? Wasn't one of them into pyromancy and body mods? He couldn't remember. He was also pretty sure that Baxter himself was laughing inside his head at the comment about his age. Baxter had been the youngest of the Five - he'd been in his mid-twenties, but he'd been exceptionally strong even for his young age - but that had been over three hundred years ago. Not only had he three hundred years of experience in five different perspectives at this point, but he'd also been tutored in an instant by four more Warlocks of exceptional might.
      Dane increased the number of drinks he owed Baxter - and the rest of the collective - to at least two. This was brilliant!
      "Has Baxter always been this strange in his behavior, or did you tell him to act this way?" Ro asked, leaning closer. "He asked me before taking off his gloves… I don’t think he should touch Jona."
      Dane leaned back and put his arm around Ro, pulled him closer. He didn't want Jona to hear - not for any secrecy reasons but because he wanted to see how far Baxter would take things.
      "Strange yes, but not like you think," he murmured and leaned over as if to kiss the crook of Ro's neck. "I think they're pulling a joke here. Surely Mace's doing." He placed the kiss and lifted his head again. "Don't worry. Baxter won't touch him without consent."
      And indeed, Baxter had stopped pulling at their glove - if they had ever planned to pull it off or not remained a mystery. Given Baxter's nature, it was somewhat unlikely.
      "We are unable to tell you what you want to hear," Baxter answered the question the older Drakin had asked. "Our patients are entitled to their privacy. We are only telling you about him," they gestured towards Ro, "because he has given us permission to do so."
      "Don't bother telling them about the oh-so great authority of your council," Dane chimed in. "They won't budge."
      "Indeed," Baxter continued. "We are a neutral party. We help anyone- and everyone who comes to us and asks for help. Excluding the help of finding the identity of other patients, of course."
      Baxter smiled again, but it took their eyes a second to recognize the action, leaving them with an expression people would describe as a little psychotic for a second or two. Their face fell a second later, however, as they stared off into space, like they so often did. The collective was speaking; somewhere something else happened, demanding all their undivided attention. Unlike other times when this happened, Baxter stayed frozen like this for a good while.
      With a sigh, Dane extracted himself from Ro's arms and got up. He carefully took Baxter by the shoulders and moved them over to the chair he had sat in a couple of minutes ago. Baxter's body followed without issue, when he sat them down. Dane took a quick look at Baxter's face, just to make sure.
      "Jup. That's going to take a while," he declared, having seen this before; it wasn't actually a part of whatever joke Baxter was playing at. "No idea how long. Might be minutes, might be hours."
      As much as he wanted to go back to Ro, Dane didn't move. He had the inherent need to shield Baxter when they were defenseless like that. Right now, every mind in the collective was somewhere else concerned with some other problem entirely. Only the body of Baxter himself was here. He and all the magic his body held - which was an enormous amount given his age. Baxter was one of the most potent magical batteries in the world. Dane would do anything to protect him in this state.
      "Anything else I can help you with in the meantime?"


    • Jona didn’t need a cue to refrain from bringing up his council seat. If someone wanted to withhold information, they simply would. The elder Drakin hadn’t earned his position by chance. He was more than capable of keeping a cool head, and while secrecy might irk him, it didn’t send him into fits of rage.
      "Fine. No information on that front," Jona said with a shrug, though his movements were still somewhat stiff. "I just hadn’t expected you to actually present yourself as a helping hand."
      Neither Ro nor Jona received a proper response. In the next moment, the warlock seemed to drift into nothingness — something Ro observed and Jona felt. Exactly what was happening eluded both Drakin, though the younger had a hunch while the elder furrowed his brow.
      Against Ro’s will, Dane pulled away from him and stood. Ro grumbled quietly, pulling his legs up. "I would’ve thought he’d just collapse or something when that happened," Ro said thoughtfully, watching as Dane simply guided Baxter to the nearest chair and sat him down.
      "I knew you had all sorts of connections, but managing to link up with one of the Five is surprising," Jona remarked once Dane had taken an obvious position next to the warlock, making the dynamics clear. "I’ve never run into one of them in person. It’s a good thing Melidae isn’t here. Who knows what she would’ve done for him."
      The tension drained from Jona’s body immediately once it was evident Baxter was temporarily inactive. This allowed him to stroll over to Ro, dropping onto the couch beside him and draping an arm over the backrest. Ro blinked at his relative, visibly irritated. They weren’t exactly that close.
      "Tell me, does your council seat make you a Regra too?" Ro asked without wasting time, earning a brief smile.
      "The Ice Regra, yes. Plenty of people would’ve preferred someone else on the council, but I didn’t choose the role any more than you chose yours. Why do you think I was able to deflect your outburst so easily earlier?" Jona shifted his attention back to Baxter, then to Dane. "That blond demon of yours — is he a jumper? As in, a spatial jumper?"
      What a strange term for teleporting. At least, that’s what Ro called it when Mace did it. "You don’t exactly sound surprised that this is even possible," Ro noted, shifting a hand’s width away from his relative, who didn’t follow.
      "We have limited contact with demons, for obvious reasons. Many of us argue ourselves to death with them. The one thing we’ve discovered is that they seem to have distinct specialties." Jona’s gaze grew more intent as it settled on Dane. "I’ll spare myself the trouble of asking what yours is. I doubt I could afford the price."
      "Okay, so… what do we do now? As long as Baxter’s out of commission, we’re not making any progress…" Ro sighed, flinching slightly when Jona’s hand brushed his shoulder casually.
      "We wait. Personally, I’ve got nothing else planned except maybe grabbing something to eat later. But I do have another question for you, Mr. Blackwell." The conversational tone in Jona’s deep voice faded, replaced by a serious edge. "What will you do if Ro gets his dragon back and is no longer the person you know? If his name is restored, his character will likely change — especially after his first transformation. How will you deal with that?"
      Ro swallowed hard. He’d had similar thoughts before. With most Drakin, the changes weren’t noticeable, as they often occurred at a younger age. But for him… his character was already formed. What if he ended up inheriting even a sliver of that arrogant, egotistical dragon’s personality? That was the last thing he wanted.

    • So Jona did know. Of course, the man had a decent poker face.
      "My work took me many places and let me meet many people," Dane replied simply, leaning against the table again, now that he was sure Jona wouldn't just jump at the chance to grab himself one of the rarest magical people in the world.
      The man relaxed, and so did Dane.
      "For them or with them?" he retorted. "Your lot doesn't exactly give handy helper vibes."
      He eyed the way Jona sat next to Ro, how Ro seemed unsure about the physical closeness. He also notices how the tension had dissipated the second Baxter had left the room. Interesting.
      "Tell me, does your council seat make you a Regra too?"
      "The Ice Regra, yes."
      Even more interesting. So this was a Regra in full control? Kind of underwhelming. But on the other hand, that was probably on purpose. So the whole thing about being nervous was probably also a play. Or its origin was a different one. Jona wasn't Melidae's minder or some sort of PR agent, he was just as much a rule maker as she was. Still, Dane guessed she was older, maybe even more powerful. Or, and for this he needed more contextual information, he was just a much more relaxed person than her. Despite all these new questions, Dane sucked up all these answers he was getting like a dried up sponge.
      "That blond demon of yours — is he a jumper? As in, a spatial jumper?"
      "Among other things, yes," Dane answered. No need to give him more than needed.
      Dane took a very detailed mental note of the fact that the Drakin did know about his kind. It wasn't as bad, given that most Demons played by different rules than him, Asa, and Mace. Knowing the specifics of their powers would've erked him much more but Jona, thankfully, seemed clueless. And he was right: he couldn't afford the answer to that question. Or rather: he wouldn't be willing to pay.
      Still, something tugged at Dane. He couldn't localize the sensation, which meant only one thing.
      "I'm no jumper, that much I can tell you." The tugging didn't subside. "And I'm more than just a pyromancer." Now it left him alone. Good, because he did not want to reveal much more than that for the simple information of Jona being a Regra. Stupid mirror-deal.
      "I do have another question for you, Mr. Blackwell. What will you do if Ro gets his dragon back and is no longer the person you know? How will you deal with that?"
      Dane met Jona's gaze without hesitating or flinching.
      "I will deal with it like I deal with all things: patience and compassion." He shifted his gaze over to Ro, who had that expression again, the one that always settled on his face when he was unsure about himself, about their relationship. Dane hated this expression. "I don't care what happens," he said, his tone a lot softer than before. "I won't leave him, that's for sure. We'll figure it out. We'll figure us out. We always do. And I will always know him if his Dragon likes it or not."
      When Ro looked at him, he smiled that soft kind of smile he only ever gave to Ro. Every word he said, he meant. He believed in them; fullheartedly.


    • Almost simultaneously, the two Drakin on the couch blinked at Dane as he, unprompted, revealed more about himself. Ro was outright flustered, while Jona seemed more fascinated. Where Ro couldn’t react quickly enough, Jona had already shifted into high gear. The Ice Drakin pulled his arm back from the couch’s backrest and leaned forward onto his thighs. A probing look appeared in his steel-gray eyes.
      "Everyone seems so damn sure that Dane will lose interest in me eventually," Ro growled, clearly annoyed, kicking his relative’s foot. Jona, however, wasn’t fazed and remained in his observing posture.
      "Demons live an incredibly long time, if the stories are to be believed. Over time, some things can… lose their appeal, can’t they?" Jona asked cautiously, shooting Ro a fleeting sidelong glance.
      Ro’s expression darkened noticeably. "Why don’t you find out? Stick around, and I guarantee none of us will get bored." His tone was sharp and challenging, and Jona couldn’t help but admit there was nothing to add to that. He wasn’t about to tread dangerous ground and provoke a demon with backup.
      "Fair enough, kid."
      With that, Ro relaxed again and let his gaze drift to Baxter, who still sat motionless, like a living doll — unmoving yet alive. Ro couldn’t help but wonder what emergency had pulled the warlock out of the current situation so abruptly. After all, he had just been talking about gifts moments ago. "What are we supposed to do if this takes hours? We can’t just… leave him like this, can we?"
      "Weren’t we mainly here because you had questions for me? Or because I had some for you?" Jona chuckled, though the sound was more like distant rockslides than real laughter. His focus remained on Dane, not Baxter, and Ro recognized that look all too well. It was the same look Ro himself wore when he found something immensely fascinating and needed to investigate further.
      "You're more than a pyromancer. Interesting. It would be vague to claim I’m merely more than a Drakin. Regra isn’t the same as Regra…" Jona began, and Ro was honestly surprised that the Ice Drakin started sharing about himself unprompted. However, Jona’s focus on Dane didn’t sit well with him. Had he missed something?
      "I belong to a sub-element. I’m still more powerful than ordinary Drakin, but not as strong as those of the primary elements — or the ones above them."
      Now Jona openly grinned, and Ro stared at him, stunned. He’d suspected that strange Melidae was different, but this confirmed it. So, she didn’t belong to any particular element? Or did she? Was there another one? Why were they different? How?
      "We’re only fully unleashed when we become one with our dragon. Once we transform, our full potential becomes available. The council takes great care to ensure this only happens in remote areas…"
      "Like on the Côte d’Azur!" Ro exclaimed, gasping for air. The remote caves beneath the beaches were perfect for such purposes. Maybe that’s why he always felt drawn to them.
      Jona nodded. "For example. But what interests me more is whether Mr. Blackwell will now share a bit more about himself. Oh, and perhaps I should clarify that I’m not capable of exploiting your warlock in the ways he’s hunted for in certain places."
      Anger flashed across Ro’s face. Without warning, he grabbed Jona’s upper arm and shook it, forcing him to break eye contact. He didn’t stop until the other Drakin complied and looked at him.
      "Stop interrogating Dane. We’re not here because of him, but because of me, got it? I’m sick of all of us being such arrogant egomaniacs! You don’t get to be one too!"
      Jona blinked several times before sighing heavily and rubbing the back of his neck. "You’re right. I got a bit carried away," he conceded, shaking his head. "I guess it comes with age. Alright, ask me."
      "You felt earlier how much magic I’m holding. How long do I have before my body gives out?" Ro fired off immediately, leaving no room for fear to creep into his determined voice.
      The levity drained from Jona’s face as well. "I… can only guess. Exact estimates are hard to make…"
      "Just say something. Go on."
      "You haven’t even transformed yet, but your dragon is practically simmering just beneath the surface, now that you’ve somehow awakened him."
      "And?"
      Jona’s gaze briefly flicked to Dane, who still stood protectively near Baxter — though now more relaxed than before. "Maybe two years? No body is built to contain magic like that for so long."

    • Dane's eyes shifted from Ro back to Jona, his soft smile hardening in an instant. It wasn't for the man.
      "Things can indeed lose their appeal over time. But time is a term easily stretched and bent and, thankfully, Ro is no thing," he simply retorted. "I've had many lovers of many species, I never hid that from Ro. And that's as much as I will say on this matter because, quite frankly, neither my nor his love life are of your concern."
      He watched as Jona weighed his options and decided, wisely, to drop the conversation when Ro became agitated. Something felt a bit off, Dane noted. Ro wasn't usually as... prickly. It didn't worry Dane just yet, but he would have an eye on this, too.
      "You don't need to worry about him, Ro," Dane reassured his partner when he brought up the topic of Baxter's mental absence. "Should he still be somewhere else when we leave, I will just put him up on the couch and make sure the pack has an eye on him."
      Dane shrugged. He looked at Jona one more time and came to the conclusion that the man was no threat to Baxter. At least none he wasn't ready to deal with, should it come down to it.
      He pushed off the table he'd been leaning against this whole time, grabbed his and Ro's abandoned mugs and heated them back up with a nudge of his own magic. They were still a bit frozen from Jona's little display.
      "You're more than a pyromancer. Interesting. It would be vague to claim I’m merely more than a Drakin. Regra isn’t the same as Regra…"
      Dane handed Ro his tea back, perfectly heated for drinking. Then he looked straight up at an almost invisible stain on the ceiling. There was still some moisture up there in the wooden beam.
      "I belong to a sub-element. I’m still more powerful than ordinary Drakin, but not as strong as those of the primary elements — or the ones above them."
      Dane hid his frown in response to what Jona was doing by frowing at the stain on the ceiling. Dane had been playing word games since the dawn of time; he recognized a fellow player when he heard one. Jona had picked up on his involuntary infodump before, and now he was trying to coax another one from Dane through their mirror-deal. Clever. But obvious.
      "We’re only fully unleashed when we become one with our dragon. Once we transform, our full potential becomes available. The council takes great care to ensure this only happens in remote areas…"
      "Like on the Côte d’Azur!"
      "For example. But what interests me more is whether Mr. Blackwell will now share a bit more about himself. Oh, and perhaps I should clarify that I’m not capable of exploiting your warlock in the ways he’s hunted for in certain places."
      Dane exchanged his frown with a smile - one of his business smiles he gave his human clients. He twirled a finger and the stain on the ceiling dried in an instant. He looked back at Jona.
      "You are very perceptive. But you only really explained your species and your standing in its society, which means our deal will not force me to tell you anything juicy about me."
      Still, there was this annoying tugging sensation again. It was weak, sure, but Dane was physically incapable of ignoring it. It messed with his control over himself. It was much the same for Asa, he knew. Mace once told him he felt dried out, akin to the feeling of having to drink salt water. The fulfillment of a deal was usually but a mere instinct, but since there was no resolution to a mirror-deal, Demons had to endure the exact opposite of what their little quirks were. It was designed to make them uncomfortable and drive them to fulfill their end of the bargain.
      "You're a sub-element Regra. I am a demon twin," Dane conceded. Harmless information for harmless information, both enhancing previously acquired knowledge. He had nothing to say about the whole unleashing of powers - a fact he had been able to piece together himself. No knowledge gained, no exchange needed. He simply kept on smiling.
      "But knowing the dirty little secrets I keep wasn't your goal, I presume." Not a question. "You only wanted to test your theory. Yes, our mirror-deal will urge me to give you equally weighed information in return for what you reveal. But as you said before: your kind can argue itself to death with my kind. And demons are very hard to kill."
      "Stop interrogating Dane. We’re not here because of him, but because of me, got it? I’m sick of all of us being such arrogant egomaniacs! You don’t get to be one too!"
      Dane smiled even wider into his tea. He liked this new side of Ro that seemed to be emerging here. He could even get used to it. He already knew what a brat the young Drakin could be, so this was merely a step up from there, if one thought about it.
      "I agree," he said towards Jona. "We're here for Ro, not to enlarge your own hoard."
      "You’re right. I got a bit carried away."
      Dane returned to his spot next to Baxter, still not fully trusting the situation to not get out of hand. Ro was stand-offish now and Dane did not have enough experience to gauge when a Drakin had enough and gave into the urge to assert their dominance. Jona might've looked relaxed but, as Dane had noted earlier: the man had a damn good pokerface. Still, he wanted to be with Ro, even just stand next to him. There were way too many wants in this room right now...
      "How long do I have before my body gives out?"
      "Maybe two years? No body is built to contain magic like that for so long."
      Gut punch wasn't the right term for what Dane felt. Meteor strike might cut it. Supernova, with him in the center. Two years? That was nothing. A blink for a Draking, even less for a Demon. Two years. No. Dane wouldn't accept this. He'd take in all of Ro every damn day if it only kept him alive for another one!
      But there was another thought, too.
      "What happens, should it come to this worst case scenario? I know from shifters that when they use control, their animalistic nature - arguably the side of their being that holds the magic - takes over, and they lose themselves. Would it be similar in concept for Ro? Or are we talking total annihilation of the self, body, mind, and spirit?"
      It sounded clinical, the way Dane talked, but he needed this clear-cut language right now. Because if he let himself get close, even in just his phrasing, he would lose it and this cabin would be much more than just nicely warmed up. He was more than a pyromancer, but demonic fire burned hot and violently and sometimes its call was just as delicious as making a deal.
      The tea in his own mug started to bubble ever so slightly.


    • "Maybe two years? No body is built to contain magic like that for so long."
      It felt to Ro as if all the air had been forced from his lungs. He was familiar by now with tension and even a certain kind of despair — fear, if you wanted to call it that. But this was something else entirely. This was the truth; in Jona’s eyes there was nothing but honesty as he answered his relative’s question to the best of his ability.
      Ro’s mind tried to process only the words themselves, but images formed of their own accord in his thoughts. A few years — and then it would all be over. Just like that, and without him truly being able to grasp it. Without his consent, there was suddenly a time limit, and every part of him rebelled against that thought. The feeling of falling endlessly wouldn't let him go as he stared at Jona in speechless shock.
      He barely processed Dane’s follow-up questions. It didn’t matter how exactly the limit would manifest. One way or another, the version of him that existed now would cease to be. What would happen then? To him, to his consciousness? Would it ultimately come down to a role reversal — his dragon taking over while he was locked deep inside, forced to watch, helpless?
      Between his spread legs, Jona pressed his fingertips together while observing Dane. “I must admit, I’ve only ever witnessed one comparable case. That’s where Melidae’s knowledge would come in handy,” he said, grimacing in pain. “We... were able to bury the body, at least what was left of it… It was someone from another clan. He went up in flames — flames no one could extinguish. The magic burned him out completely and in the end…” Jona sighed and shaped his hands into a bowl, as if cradling something imaginary.
      Ro turned away abruptly. The image of a Drakin reduced to nothing more than a pile of ash was impossible to erase from his mind. So what was in store for him? Drowning? Or did this phenomenon manifest differently in everyone? Thoughts raced through his head, and he swallowed dryly, again and again. His heart was pounding so fast, blood roared in his ears. He shook his head gently, over and over. This had to be a joke.
      Jona had only seen it once. He didn’t have the expertise to give accurate predictions. He could be mistaken. He could be wrong...
      Maybe it would happen even sooner than expected.
      Jona's gaze wandered slowly between Dane and Ro. Three factions were now present in this tiny cabin, each with far too much potential. Maybe he had overestimated the demon’s self-control, especially now, watching how his aura started to send out ever-growing ripples.
      “I might be wrong, Mr. Blackwell,” he began cautiously, avoiding any sudden movements. “I’m no doctor, and I can’t really judge how much potential Ro actually has. Or whether it would help if he found a temporary outlet. In the end, I’m afraid he won’t be able to avoid finding his name.”
      Ro’s hands clenched and relaxed rhythmically at his sides. His back remained turned to the two men.
      “Ro is already showing physical traits. I would’ve thought that wasn’t even possible without a name. I don’t know what would happen if someone tried to force a transformation. Probably nothing good.” A heavy sigh escaped the Ice Drakin. “Maybe… maybe he should contact Melidae after all — if even Baxter can’t help him.”

    • Dane closed his eyes, took a deep breath. He focused on his own magic, on the fire burning through his veins. It wanted to bubble up into his skin, into the lines he'd so carefully carved into himself over the course of decades to be able to do more than just burn. The ultimate form of control over himself and what he was.
      He put it back down.
      When he opened his eyes, there was not a sliver of his aura left to read. He put his mug down and went over to Ro. Staying away from him now, when he was like this, when he had to process something like this, just felt wrong. There was no other way to describe it. It felt as wrong as seeing a green elephant or a bright pink dog.
      He put a hand in Ro's neck, gently massaged the muscles there in an effort to ground both him and himself.
      "We can't allow ourselves to think that you are wrong," he began slowly, his voice controlled. "I'm no stranger to operating under the assumption of a worst case scenario. So that's what we will do. No ifs, no buts. If we have to talk to Melidae, then we talk to her. If we have to talk to Aimeric, then we talk to him. What I will not accept is to be shut out. Not anymore. You can't tell me your precious secrets? So be it. Then tell me what I can do. What we can do. Because I swear by whatever metric you want to use here: I will use violence, if I have to. And I don't care about your council's opinion about that."
      He took another deep breath, wrapped himself tightly into his control, before he did something stupid. He had done said stupid once before when he revealed one of his trump cards to Ro prematurely. Luckily, his instincts had been right and no ill had come from that. But Dane was sure things would turn out differently should Jona or Melidae or any other Drakin learn about the tattoo he carried on his chest; the weapon hidden on his skin.
      "We have a time limit and a very precious life is on the line. I suggest we move with haste."


    • Jona’s full attention rested solely on Dane as the latter visibly needed a moment to compose himself. Remaining completely calm in a situation like this wasn’t just foolish. It was suicidal. That’s why the Drakin had already tensed up. There was no murderous intent in the room; any one of them could’ve sensed that easily. But the moment the demon opened his eyes—eyes Jona had expected to look different — the waves of power subsided, and he witnessed the near-perfect control demons had over their auras. What Jona could still read now was nothing more than the faintest scratch on a glassy surface — nothing deeper.
      Open. Close. Open. Close. Open. Close.
      Ro didn’t stop clenching and unclenching his fists. His gaze was fixed on the wooden walls, on some meaningless spot that might somehow calm him. It wasn’t enough. And even when Dane reached him and placed a hand on the back of his neck, Ro just kept falling. His heart kept racing. The thoughts wouldn’t stop.
      “…I want you to avoid Melidae for as long as possible.” Jona’s voice was firm now; the lighter tone had long since vanished. He didn’t need to feel an aura to read the mood in a room or to read people through their movements. Right before his own eyes, he was witnessing that all those gossips claiming the demon would eventually lose interest in the young Drakin were dead wrong. What he saw here wasn’t some rehearsed act — it was genuine care, real anger, and raw determination. This subject, Jona realized, was the most dangerous one yet.
      “As Ro’s relative, I want to help him. But Melidae doesn’t see the soul — only the kind. It’s not about what consequences Aimeric would face, but what she might do to Ro. If he doesn’t reach his name, he becomes a danger to those around him. She won’t risk that — not because she’s kind. She’s… different.”
      Again, Jona’s expression twisted as he brought up something best left unsaid. He was wrestling with what and how to communicate, skating on thin ice himself — not just because of what he said, but also because of the side he was taking.
      Suddenly, Ro’s fists stilled. “Then I’ll confront Aimeric.”
      His voice cut through the air like the ice he had summoned earlier — just as cold, even though he felt like he was burning up inside. The paralysis fell from his mind. He couldn’t flee. He couldn’t collapse. There was only one path left to him, and it led forward. Something inside him pushed, screamed at him to go on the offensive. No matter how reckless that might be.
      The young Drakin turned to Dane and grabbed his forearm. “He has to know. He’s neck-deep in all this. I’m done dancing around him. We have a time limit. I’ll go at him until he tells me what happened.” There was a hunt in his blue eyes.
      With a quiet creak, Jona rose from the couch but didn’t move any closer. “Ro, you can’t force it out of him.”
      Hunted, blue eyes locked onto the Ice Drakin. “If I don’t, he will.” He gave Dane’s arm a brief squeeze.
      Jona’s expression immediately hardened. “Don’t. If you ask him to, he’ll attack Aimeric.” A quick glance at Dane was all it took to confirm it. “Neither of them will back down, and the damage will be immense.”
      Ro’s grip on Dane’s arm tightened as he began to tremble. What was pushing him to act now was pure desperation and fear of what might come if they did nothing. Not having a timeframe made everything worse. He looked back at Dane — his rock in the storm.
      “I can do this, Dane. I’ve got this, okay?”

    • It took a lot of effort to not let his breath sound like a hiss when he released it.There it was again: The 'don't do anything, we'll handle it' speech, Jona seemed so fond off. After just an hour of talking, Dane was so tired of it. Did this man really expect him to idly sit by, watching Ro slowly die to his own magic, while some council avoided making any kind of substantial decision? Was that Drakin really this naive?
      "I don't like to repeat myself," Dane said, still calm, "I don't care about anyone's opinions. Not if things are this dire."
      He reached for Ro's hand, intertwined their fingers. Dane knew he was dancing an a fine line right now, that there was a way this all would go well and a way this all would go horribly, horribly wrong. But he meant what he said: he didn't care. He'd spent decades in the business of saving the lives of rare magical creatures, he would not be stopped now, when the most precious of them all was in danger. It simply didn't matter that Melidae had an opinion or that she was different, whatever that meant. This woman was irrelevent to Dane's cause. At best she was a hindrence, and obstacle. And obstacles could be removed.
      "We're done asking your permission, Jona. We're done asking your council's permission. You say we should stay away from Melidae? Fine. But we know that Aimric is involved, so he is the next best option. We will go to him. We will talk to him. What happens after is his fault. Actions usually have consequences. Consider yourself informed."
      He stepped aside without losing contact with Ro, and pointed towards the door.
      "Please leave my territory. I no longer feel comfortable having you on my premises."
      As if to underline his point, multiple wolves howled in the distance. Asa must've felt his discomfort and told Greg. Which meant there was a whole pack ready to chase off any unwanted lizards. Good.
      Jona was thankfully clever enough to recognize the situation for what it was. He nodded and left without making any fuss about it. Dane didn't bother watching him until he disappeared in the darkness - the pack would trail him all the way to the border of the property, maybe even further than that just to be sure. They wouldn't stalk him all the way home, probably just back into the city proper.
      "I won't ask if you're alright," he finally said. "It's a pointless question."
      He searched for Ro's gaze, squeezed his hand.
      "Let's go home."

      Dane made sure to be as available as possible to Ro, which resulted in them holding hands the whole drive back to his house. Back inside, he pulled Ro into a strong hug, pressed him into his chest and let his guard down ever so slightly, so Ro could feel him and that he was with him in whatever it was they were going to do. Whatever was going to happen.
      When he finally let go of Ro, he pulled him along into their bedroom, where he made him choose between a shower and some comfy clothes.
      "Do you have a plan?" he asked, as he tested the water temperature to make sure, he wouldn't burn Ro alive, once they stepped under the shower together. "Do you know how you want to do this? Or would you like my help in figuring things out?"
      He took Ro's clothing and folded it neatly, stacked everything up in the laundry basket. He did the same with his own clothes. He didn't pretend this was just him following his little quirk; this was just as much to calm himself down.
      He pulled Ro under the steady stream of the shower and just... held Ro's hands for a moment. A long moment. He leaned his forehead against Ro's and closed his eyes.
      "I'm with you, Ro," he whispered, his words barely audible over the rushing of the water. "I don't care about anything else. I meant that. I'll do whatever it takes to make sure I get to keep you. You. Not the dragon. Maybe that makes me selfish, maybe not. Doesn't matter. I won't let anything happen to you. Anything."
      When he opened his eyes again, he stared at the tattoo spread across his chest. He wouldn't let anything happen to Ro, no matter how far he had to go.


      Dieser Beitrag wurde bereits 2 mal editiert, zuletzt von Insane Pumpkin ()

    • When Dane helped Ro into his car, the latter still seemed completely out of it. Even in the vehicle, Ro’s hand instinctively sought his partner’s, as if afraid he might lose him the moment he let go. He remained silent for the entire drive, his restless eyes flicking to the objects rushing past beyond the windowpane.

      Back at the house, Dane pulled Ro into his arms. For a long, long while, he simply held him, wrapping his arms tightly around the other man. He kept telling himself over and over that this wasn’t a death sentence. That Ro wouldn’t just vanish one day. But the countless decades hadn’t even turned into a single one, and that terrified him to his core. Dane guided Ro through the overwhelm until the Drakin suddenly found himself standing in the bathroom, wondering when they had even walked in.
      “Do you have a plan?” Dane asked, while Ro stood naked in front of the mirror, staring at his reflection like he no longer recognized the person looking back.
      “I… I guess we’re going to pay Aimeric a visit.” He shrugged. Deep contemplation didn’t suit his state of mind right now. Everything inside him was still in turmoil. He couldn’t just wait or fall into resignation. “Push the fact that I don’t have time for games anymore.”
      Absentmindedly, Ro pulled down the lower lid of one eye. The mucous membrane looked pale — just like he felt. What was the point of showing symptoms and signs of a transformation if it would never fully happen? The magic pulsing beneath his skin had begun to feel unpleasant now. And yet, this part of his existence could probably never truly turn hostile toward him.
      A firm grip pulled Ro away from the mirror and under the shower. Water poured down his body, onto his head. The hands holding his were warmer than the water could ever be. Everything seemed to revolve around that small contact — one that gained another anchor when Dane rested his forehead against Ro’s. Instantly, the Drakin’s eyes closed, and for the first time in hours, something like calm settled inside him. The pounding water smoothed the chaos of his emotions, and Dane’s words gave his thoughts a direction. He didn’t have to do anything — he just had to be. Right here, in this moment.
      “…I like the thought that you don’t want to let me go,” Ro murmured with a faint smile, though he kept his eyes shut. Once, he might have believed the bond was forcing the demon to say things like that. But that feeling had long faded.
      “Please don’t wreck him. At least not if I’m not done with him yet. I always told myself I’d confront him with all the shit I’ve been through once I’d fully transformed. So I could face him as an equal, you know?”
      Ro slid his arms around Dane’s waist, pressing himself close. This time, he didn’t consciously seek out the lines that tingled beneath his touch. They were just there, a silent reminder neither of them should forget. To this day, Ro was absolutely certain that he never wanted to witness what would happen if Dane ever used that weapon seriously — for any reason. So he rested his chin on Dane’s shoulder and stared at the tiles across from them.
      “I used to want to beat his mistakes into him. Sometimes I envy humans — at least their fathers can’t turn into giant lizards with wings and always be stronger than their kids.”
      “You’ll still be able to scrape me off the floor if he flattens me. But this is something I want to do. Otherwise, I’ll never break out of this cycle,” Ro mumbled in a similar tone.

    • Dane nuzzled his face into the crook of Ro's neck.
      "I can't hurt him, no matter how much I want to," he reminded Ro. "Your mother made sure of that."
      Right now, he cursed that woman. He cursed her love for a man so beyond reason. But he couldn't blame her, simply because he would've done the same if it were Ro. Consindering what he was willing to do now, he had no leg to stand on. Still, cursing the deal that bound him at least gave him an target for his rage, albeit an abstract one.
      Dane strengthened his grip around Ro, pulled him as close as physically possible.
      "I can still hold him down for you," he reassured the young man.
      And they both knew he would. He would hold the man, he would hold the Dragon, until Ro was done with him. And if Aimeric tried to retalliate... well. Dane had told Jona what would happen then. Ro's mother was able to take his offense from him, but he'd kept a firm grip on his defense - and he would use it to its full extend, the very second Aimeric tried something. Part of Dane hoped the little lizard would try something, just so he had an excuse to do truly terrible things to him.

      They stood under that shower for way too long, before Dane found it in him to let go of Ro and go through the motions of cleaning the day off of them both. Afterwards, he wrapped Ro tightly in the softest towel he owned and then just lifted him off his feet and carried him to the bed.
      He was about to lean in and kiss Ro, when his phone buzzed. Dane bit ack a curse. All he wanted right now was some peace and quiet, just a moment where nothing mattered. Seemed to be too much to ask from the powers that be, apparently. A quick look at the screen of his smartphone at least revealed that there was no fire he had to put out right away. It was just Greg.
      "Make yourself comfortable," he directed Ro. "I'll be right back."
      He pressed a quick kiss to Ro's forehead before getting up and leaving the bedroomm. He left the door slightly ajar. Dialing Greg's number, he paced up and down the hallway.
      "What is it?!" Dane snapped, when Greg finally picked up.
      "Wow. Hello to you, too," Greg replied.
      "Sorry. It's been... an evening."
      "All good, Asa's been warning me. Just wanted to let you know that that Drakin is off our land. Do we hate him?"
      Yes.
      "No. No, he's Ro's uncle or something and a member of the Drakin council," Dane felt the slight tug of his mirror deal - he couldn't reveal more to his brother-in-law, "He brought new intel and we all got a bit heated. I kicked him out to dissolve the tension before it got out of hand. We don't really like him, but he is an important ally."
      "No entry withough a hall pass, got it. I'll let the pack know."
      "Thank you. And Greg?"
      "Yeah?"
      "I'm sorry about all this. It's a mess, I know. And you do have better things to do-"
      "Imma stop you right there, Dane. You're family. Ro's family. Pretty sure my aunt adopted his mom, too. This is what we do, remember? If one's threatened, all of us are. So just keep pointing at the people we need to pee on and we'll gladly do it."
      Dane smiled. Of course Greg would have his back. The fact that he needed a reminder of that even after all this time of living with a pack of shifters in his backyard was almost laughable.
      "Thank you, Greg."
      "Anytime. No go and take care of your mate. You're getting all sappy on me. Can't have that now, can we?"
      "I guess not. Good night, Greg."
      "Likewise."
      Dane stared at his phone for a second. When had his life taken such a turn? A Demon with friends? With a family? No deals binding anyone? What a concept!
      With a sigh he headed back towards the bedroom. He put his phone on do not disturb - he couldn't bring himself to fully shut it off - and put it aside, before crawling into bed next to Ro. Greg was right: this was where he was supposed to be.


    • As a Drakin with an affinity for water, Ro’s skin didn’t wrinkle even after long periods in the wet. He could have stood under the soothing stream for hours, pressed close to Dane, who simply was. Who was there for him. Willingly, Ro let himself be dried off and wrapped in a towel, before Dane picked him up from the floor and carried him into the bedroom. On any other day, he might’ve kicked and squirmed in protest, but today he simply had no strength left.
      Dane set the young Drakin down on the bed and leaned in toward him. Ro had already reached out a hand to his demon when a phone vibrated, making him grimace. Even for him, Dane’s movement as he pulled the phone from his pocket seemed unsteady. Ro’s grimace turned into a worried frown as Dane gave him a brief apology and left the bedroom. Tense, Ro watched him go, noting that the door was only left ajar — thankfully, since he otherwise might’ve assumed his presence wasn’t wanted.
      So Ro turned away and pulled the blankets back. He didn’t feel quite ready to bury himself under them, but the exhaustion would catch up soon. He could already feel the tips of his fingers and toes going numb — a common enough sign when he’d drawn on large amounts of magical energy.
      “What is it?!” suddenly echoed from the hallway, and Ro flinched instinctively. He glanced guiltily over his shoulder at the door — though Dane didn’t storm in, his voice had come dangerously close to it. Brow furrowed in concentration, Ro tried to catch fragments of the conversation. What little he heard didn’t exactly cheer him up. Apparently, Dane didn’t like Jona much. That stung more than it should have — Jona was one of the few relatives, alongside Laurent, that Ro had ever gotten along with. The realization left an unpleasant ache in his chest.
      When he heard Dane wrapping up the call, Ro quickly slipped under the covers to make it look like he’d already gotten comfortable. The tension now clung to his bones like an echo with no weight. Wide-eyed, he silently watched his partner return, place his phone on the nightstand, and crawl into bed beside him.
      Instead of cuddling up immediately, Ro stayed half upright, watching Dane. For quite a while, in fact, without saying a word. Then, after what felt like an eternity, he finally asked:
      “How much prep time do you need to get ready for a meeting with Aimeric?”
      It wasn’t about building up power. Ro knew Dane wouldn’t move without taking certain precautions — especially not since Cecilia had cursed him not to so much as tear off a single one of Aimeric’s scales.
      “I don’t want to confront him at home. I want to do it somewhere else. But I don’t know how we’d get him there. He’s not going to come if we just invite him, and I don’t think we can blackmail him either,” Ro added, chewing on his lower lip.

    • Dane put a hand behind his back and watched Ro, who... watched him? Interesting. He wondered what was going on in that pretty little head of his. Nothing too good, he assumed. Dane never really had to think about the concept of dying or losing someone. Asa and Mace were just as indestructible as he was. Yes, his family had expanded in less immortal ways but somehow the thought of losing any of them - Greg, Zephy, the tripplets - never occured to him. Because he knew that his brother would protect them. Because he himself would protect them. But this... How was Dane supposed to protect Ro quite literally from himself? He could make him eat when he forgot again, could send him to bed, force him to rest, but this... How does one fight a dragon that only exists in the spirit of another person? Knowing there was nothing he could do was... unbalancing. He didn't like it. And he couldn't even imagine how it must feel to live with this time bomb inside oneself.
      He reached out, grabbed Ro's hand. What for, he wasn't sure. To ground himself maybe? To show Ro he wasn't alone?
      "How much prep time do you need to get ready for a meeting with Aimeric?"
      Dane raised an eyebrow.
      "That depends on what kind of meeting you have in mind," he replied.
      "I don’t want to confront him at home. I want to do it somewhere else. But I don’t know how we’d get him there. He’s not going to come if we just invite him, and I don’t think we can blackmail him either."
      "Hey," Dane put his hand to Ro's cheek, sliding his thumb across Ro's lower lip to make him stop shredding it. "I like that one. Don't break it."
      Once Ro stopped, he pulled him close to his chest and wrapped an arm around him. Staring at the ceiling, he got to thinking.
      "We could intercept his daily routine. Have your mother find out when he leaves and where he goes and then just show up. Gives us the element of surprise, if you can hide yourself for long enough. If not, just as well. We'll still get him. Maybe we can get Mace to play taxi."
      He thought some more but all he could come up with were scenarios in which he ripped that lizard apart to get to Ro's missing piece. Thinking didn't do him any good right now, it seemed. With a sigh, he planted a kiss on Ro's forehead. And then he dared to ask the stupidest question:
      "How are you feeling?"
      Dane had said he wouldn't ask, when they were in the cabin, he knew that, but now, with a bit of time to digest the news Jona had brought, maybe there were words for it? Logically, Dane was well aware that there was only one answer. Just that logic seemed to be lost on him at the moment. He wanted to know how Ro was feeling and he wanted to do whatever necessary to fix things. He hated being helpless like this. To not have control. He'd promised Ro to keep him save and now this.


    • A long-overdue, deep sigh escaped Ro’s throat as Dane pulled him into his arms. It was the only thing keeping him from completely unraveling in that moment. The close contact, the warmth, the sense of safety… all of it held him together — if only just for now.
      “…I’d prefer to have him somewhere no one else can get dragged into it. I think if we really go all in on trying to reclaim my name, it’s not going to happen without collateral damage. I don’t want… I don’t want too many people to see it,” Ro finally said.
      If it came to a full-on confrontation, there was a chance his father would shed his humanoid form. The consequences of him doing that within reach of humans would ripple across the entire D’Apchier clan.
      “That goes for Mace, too. No idea if he’s actually up for tackling a pissed-off Drakin. Against his will.”
      Dane sighed softly and placed a kiss on Ro’s forehead. “How are you feeling?”
      Ro put a little space between them and met Dane’s gaze. He clearly hadn’t returned to his old self — not yet. But he no longer looked quite as hollow and broken as he had back in the cabin. Not entirely, at least. Still, the weight he carried was visible in the deep blue of his eyes.
      “Shitty,” was the flattest answer Ro could offer his demon.
      “Earlier, I just… dropped into this bottomless pit. Then it felt like time was slipping away and I was under so much pressure. And now it’s… it’s just a mix of all of it.”
      He shook his head slightly and looked down at his own hands, which appeared calm as they rested on the blanket. But to him, it felt like they were constantly vibrating, charged with static. Honestly, his whole body felt wired.
      “I don’t feel like myself anymore. It’s like… I don’t know. Like I have to constantly hold onto something and absolutely can’t let go. But… I want to let go. Just… relax.”
      Ro reached for Dane’s hand and wove their fingers together. He was tired, he was agitated, he was numb and overwhelmed all at once.
      “Can we go somewhere tomorrow? Just… out?”
      Back in the day, whenever things became too much, Ro had always retreated into nature. He hoped it would help him regain some balance this time too. Because that’s what he was missing most right now.
      Even though the dragon had broken through for one evening, it hadn’t been enough to drain away the emotional imbalance. How could it have? After all, the two sides still weren’t in sync — and maybe never would be.