A Dash of Luck [Asuna feat. Pumi]

He gestured to his own soggy self. He didn't really hate being wet, but wearing wet clothes was just not it. It felt weird on his body, it felt weird on a psychological level because clothes weren't meant to be wet, and it was just uncomfortable in general. Thankfully he had a Drakin on hand to fix that issue.
Dane addressed the Dragon, not Ro, in that moment.

Dane sighed once Mace had disappeared, and that simple sound nearly sent Ro shooting up to the ceiling above their heads. Incredibly guilty, he hunched his shoulders while mentally wrestling with his dragon — who, to put it mildly, was very pleased with the outcome. After all, no physical harm had been done, and a bit of water never hurt anyone, right? Ro, however, saw things very differently. They needed both demons' help; now was not the time to be acting up. Like… a toddler, for fuck’s sake!
"Could you also please deal with this?"
"What?" Ro’s gaze shot over to Dane and his sad, waterlogged state. "Oh. Uh. Sure, hang on."
It only took seconds for the soaked clothes to shift into a dry state. The water burst from the fibers in tiny droplets, merging with the watery walls to form one uniform mass. With nervous fingers, Ro fidgeted with his own clothes as his dragon received the firm reminder not to create a subtropical climate inside the house. Ro hadn’t even noticed, and now he was kicking himself for missing it. That wasn’t how this was supposed to work. It was great that the dragon wasn’t completely asleep anymore, but they had to work together, not against each other.
"I’m not against deals..." the young Drakin murmured, though he understood what this was really about. "I’ll fix the kitchen..."
Ro stood there completely lost after shooing the excess water out the open doors. He fiddled with his shirt and pants, unsure of what to do next. Dane, on the other hand, seemed to have a very clear plan. As methodically as Ro knew him to be, the demon put things back in their place, dried them off, polished surfaces. But something was off. Normally, that little tick — as Ro liked to call it — had a clear end point. But Dane kept cleaning, polishing, adjusting. The same object, again and again, without making any real difference.
Concern welled up inside Ro, finally making its way to his expression. “Mh... Don’t you think the door is already spotless?”
Dane was polishing the fridge door for the third time. All fingerprints and water marks had vanished after the first pass. But he just wouldn’t stop.
"Hey? At this rate you’re going to wear the door down..."
Dane still didn’t really respond. Ro’s concern doubled in an instant. This behavior had changed as abruptly as the reactions of Ro’s magic had lately. It wasn’t the response to some sickness — but it was clearly a response to something. The demon had always seemed so cool and collected. Always with a plan, always confident.
What if all that was starting to crack?
Carefully, Ro stepped up beside Dane. Unmoved, Dane continued with his work until Ro placed a hand over his.
"Give me the cloth," he said gently, pulling it from his partner’s grasp and setting it on the counter. Then he tugged at Dane’s sleeve until the demon turned away from the fridge and Ro could look him in the face.
"How can I help you?" the young Drakin asked plainly. He didn’t need to ask what was wrong — Dane’s behavior had already told him enough. No need to decorate it with words. What mattered now was finding a way to help.
"Everything looks great. I’ll stay away from anything that could cause another magical mess, okay? We’ll get through tomorrow, I promise. But what about now? What do you need?"
Once again, Ro had slipped into his own one-dimensional world. His problems were huge — deadly, even — but he wasn’t the only one caught up in all of this. Dane was too. Dane, into whose life Ro had simply stumbled, and who had all but conspired with the universe to bind himself to the Drakin — without Ro ever having had a say in it. Dane would make sure Ro didn’t lose his head. Then it was only fair for Ro to make sure Dane didn’t lose the ground beneath his feet. Gently, he rubbed both of Dane’s forearms while he waited for an answer.

Ro watched closely the moment Dane steadied himself. Like someone checking off items on a list, Dane worked through the steps and brought himself back into balance. Ro’s touches were a gentle aid that probably helped, but they weren’t the solution. Still, he kept going until Dane leaned down and rested his forehead against the Drakin’s. As always, Dane’s brow felt warm, and Ro felt the confused aura around the demon slowly, sluggishly realign itself.
“This. I need this. You. I need a simple moment, no distractions, no… chaos.”
“Hm,” Ro murmured, forcing himself not to nod so their contact wouldn’t break. The hand at his cheek was as gentle as ever, and the thought of the force those hands were capable of might once have unsettled him. Now, though, he was certain: only he got to feel that other side. No one else. The kiss that followed was equally gentle, and Ro leaned into it, closing his lids to shut the world out. Every moment like this was fleeting — perhaps even shorter than he liked.
“Thank you. I needed that,” Dane said softly shortly after Ro opened his eyes and looked at his partner.
“I don’t think we’re done yet.” Ro let his hands slide from Dane’s forearms to his hands and gripped them there. “Come with me.”
Wasting no time, Ro led Dane behind him, out of the kitchen and into the living room — where there was less chaos, where everything had its place and, for once, no clothes were scattered everywhere. He headed straight for the seating area, nudged Dane into one of the armchairs and then straddled his lap. He didn’t care that his feet left the floor.
“Sorry about the kitchen. Not sorry for needing you to help me get through this. I’m here — look at me. Only me,” Ro said firmly, took Dane’s hands again and placed them on his hips. “Feel me. It’s not as bad as you think.”
The blue in his eyes shifted by the smallest degree as he let Dane sense the otherwise invisible flow of his magic. After the outburst it had calmed, following an apparently fixed course and rolling evenly around his body, in harmony with what the surroundings gave back to him.
Then he placed his hands on Dane’s cheeks, captured his face, and leaned in. Ro’s lips found his partner’s, pressed against them, growing more insistent. Was it strange that he even thought about intimacy? Maybe — given the circumstances and the uncertain outcome tomorrow. But he’d decided to live in the now, which meant appreciating everything he had in that moment. And that was, above all, Dane.
“I still can’t believe it. This. Us. I’d swear I must’ve choked on my own blood — we can’t be this lucky,” the young Drakin smiled, winding his arms around Dane’s shoulders and burying his face in his neck. “Not because I can call one of the most powerful beings I know mine. But because I have the guy who would set the world on fire for me. So I ask you again: What do you need? Need me to empty your mind?”

“Empty my mind? Isn’t it me who’s supposed to push you into subspace until you’re nothing but a drooling mess?”
Ro pulled a pout that Dane couldn’t see. “That was a hell of a long time ago, my dear. Maybe you should check sometime soon if that’s even still a thing.” Dane could probably pull it off without breaking a sweat, but a little sass never hurt. Truth be told, with all the stress of the last days, Ro had half forgotten what relaxed intimacy even felt like. Somehow, it had always escalated — or just been under a bad star.
“I’d be content if I could just hold you. But you know me: I can’t deny you anything if you ask for it.”
“Wonderful,” Ro said simply, snuggling even closer to his demon. “Then let’s just stay like this a bit longer. Just a little, okay?”
Nobody knew how long it could last. Neither of them could say what tomorrow would bring. But they both knew change was coming. So they took these hours. The few hours that were theirs alone.


The next day, Ro had already contacted Cecilia early in the morning to ask about Aimeric’s schedule. She told him he’d be back from a meeting around noon and linger briefly before heading off to the next one in the afternoon. That was the window Ro wanted to catch. With a mother’s instinct, Cecilia must have felt something was off. But Ro deflected every single one of her questions. It was better if she stayed out of all this.
At breakfast, Ro told Dane about the rather short phone call. While he stuffed the toast Dane had fried with egg into his mouth and scrolled aimlessly through social media with his finger, he felt oddly disillusioned. Since the night before, the dragon inside him had withdrawn back into its cocoon, lying dormant. It had been the one to regulate the magic flow in their body after the outburst, and its sudden absence just felt wrong. Ro had gained something, and now it had been taken away again.
“Is it normal that I’m not nervous?” Ro asked after swallowing another piece of fantastic toast. “I know it’s starting soon, but somehow I’m not nervous. It feels totally… distant. Oh, do I feel any different?”
Ro lifted his gaze and looked at Dane across from him. His beautiful demon hadn’t sat down yet but was still busy rinsing and drying the pan and spatula.
“Since last night my dragon’s gone back into its cocoon. I don’t know why. He’s been so much more present recently, even if not fully. That was… kind of nice.” Ro laid a hand on his chest, right over his steady-beating heart. “I want this, Dane. I want it all to work out. Are you ready? Already contacted Mace?”
He snapped his fingers in the air, as if the gesture alone might summon the blond demon. Unlike Dane, Ro couldn’t reach Mace directly by magical means, nor did he even have his phone number. It bugged him a little, having to use Dane as the middleman — but maybe, after today, that would finally come to an end.

"Mace is ready. I am ready. And you haven't finished eating yet. So we're all just waiting on you."

Ro sighed in annoyance and stuffed the rest of his toast into his mouth. Dane was probably right — he was nervous, just in a different way. Not exam-nervous, but something deeper, heavier. “There you go. Toast destroyed.”
Like the good boy he was, Ro cleared away his dishes on his own and left no trace of the toast massacre behind. Meanwhile, a whole movie was already playing in his head of how this was going to go. How ridiculous it must look from the outside when Mace would just ram him and his father and rip them away from the estate. But they didn’t have any other choice. Unless Aimeric suddenly grasped the gravity of the situation. And how was a father supposed to do that if he never listened to his son in the first place?
Finally, Ro clapped his hands together, signaling that he was ready. “Alright. Let’s make a quick stop in my homeland.”

The wind tugged at their clothes and hair as they stood on the nearly six-hundred-meter-high cliffs of the Calanques. With arms crossed and clearly pleased, Ro stood dangerously close to the edge, where the rock dropped almost straight down and turquoise water stretched out beneath them. There were no settlements or houses nearby that could be crushed if magic got out of hand. Then again, maybe the young Drakin was just overthinking things — and he’d caught one of the rare moments when talking to Aimeric might actually work.
Although… he was basically about to be abducted. So Aimeric probably wouldn’t be in the best mood.
“This is perfect,” Ro stated as he returned to the two demons. “As long as you don’t shove us over the cliff, this should work. You can manage that, right, Mace?”
Out here, the air prickled against Ro’s skin, stirred by the closeness of his birthplace. Drakin always had a special connection to places like this, almost as if they were returning to their original state of being. With so much water and the sea at his feet, he felt the wild nature of his magic more strongly than he had in a long time. It filled him up — so much so that he could feel the edges of his imaginary magical bubble tightening. They probably shouldn’t stay here too long.
Ro’s blue eyes sought out Dane’s gaze. “You think you can stick to not turning Aimeric into kebab the second he even looks at me wrong? Let me try to clear this up first. That’s important to me.” He gently stroked his demon’s upper arm. “Just grill him on my signal, okay?”
A bit of putting on a brave face had never hurt anyone, so Ro tried to look at least somewhat carefree. Even though his heart was already growing heavy and the nerves were finally kicking in. He took a deep breath and looked over at Mace.
“Okay. One trip home for me, please — if you’d be so kind.”

"- I don't think that's gonna happen any time soon. In fact: Imma watch out for him jumping/falling/whatever so I can bamf him right back on that sweet sweet rock before he supercharges himself."
Mace snapped to attention for a second; Dane rolled his eyes.

You are no naïve boy anymore.
And Ro really wasn’t. Too much shit had happened for him to ever walk blindly into things again. That version of Ro was gone. This was about things that actually mattered now — things that would ensure his survival.
Jumping with Mace was still anything but pleasant. He had to fight his way back through the swirl and chaos, re-anchoring himself in reality so he wouldn’t stumble around blindly. Even so, he was surprised at how easily Mace had managed to jump them onto the estate. Normally it was magically warded, but somehow he’d gotten through anyway. Ro was set down right in the middle of the driveway, the gardens to either side as immaculately kept as ever, the large front door closed. Gravel crunched beneath his shoes — unlike Dane, Ro was dressed in completely ordinary clothes. There wasn’t going to be a hand-to-hand fight afterward anyway, he told himself.
Ro looked around and noticed there was no one there. Doubt flickered briefly — had he missed his window? Then he caught movement in one of the windows and spotted his mother, pulling the curtains aside to peer out into the courtyard. She looked anything but happy, understandably so. Still, Ro gave her an encouraging smile. He couldn’t afford to show weakness — not even for her.
Then the front door opened abruptly, and Laurent appeared.
That hadn’t been part of the plan.
“Mireaux! God, you haven’t shown your face around here in ages! Are you alright?”
“Uh,” Ro said lamely and took a step back as his uncle hurried toward him. Unlike with Aimeric, Ro believed the concern on Laurent’s face — but his uncle had been part of the inner circle, had helped deceive him. Caution was still necessary. “I moved out. That doesn’t mean I have to show up here every day.”
“You haven’t been here in weeks. Your mother is beside herself with worry.”
Guilt flared in Ro’s chest. “I… I know. But I called her—”
“That’s not the same thing.” Laurent stepped closer and placed both hands on Ro’s cheeks, inspecting him like the doctor he was. “You don’t look well. What are they doing to you?”
“What they’re doing to me?” Ro slapped his uncle’s hands away and deliberately stepped back. “The better question is what you did to me. This whole mess only happened because of you.”
“Is that why the Council was here?” Laurent looked shaken. “Did you contact Jona?”
“That doesn’t matter. Who contacted whom doesn’t matter. What matters is what in the ever-loving hell you were thinking!” Ro snapped, his anger aimed at Aimeric rather than Laurent. He pointed an accusing finger at his uncle. “You’re in on this too! You probably even advised Aimeric on how to go about it, didn’t you?”
“How to go about what?” The voice came from behind Ro, and he flinched.
He spun around on his heel and found his father standing a few meters away, briefcase in hand, dressed in his immaculate suit. Completely unbothered, Aimeric studied his son and his brother.
Ro ground his teeth. “You took my name from me, didn’t you?”
Shock crossed Laurent’s face behind him, but Aimeric’s mask didn’t crack. “Now you’re blaming me for your own incompetence? Isn’t that a bit shortsighted, Mireaux?”
“Do you think I’ve just been twiddling my thumbs this whole time? Do you think I didn’t—”
“I think your new friend has completely clouded your judgment.”
Unbridled fury surged through Ro. “Shifting the blame is easy, isn’t it?”
“Ro…” Laurent stepped forward and placed a hand on his nephew’s shoulder.
“What do you want here?” Aimeric asked, bored, finally resuming his walk. “I’m tired of your endless tirades.”
“Maybe you should’ve been honest from the start.” Ro’s whole body was trembling now, so much suppressed anger coiling inside him. Aimeric drew closer, clearly intending to just walk past his son. “You always dodge the question. You don’t even have the guts to tell me straight whether my name has anything to do with you or not. That’s cowardly.”
Aimeric stopped beside him and shot him a sideways look so cold it rivaled Jona’s ice. “You have no understanding of adult affairs, son.”
That was Mace’s opening.
Now or never — even if it meant dragging Laurent into it.

"His uncle, if I'm not mistaken. AImeric's brother."

Even though Ro knew the portal was going to appear, it startled him just as badly as it did Laurent. Aimeric, on the other hand, remained more composed; his gaze flicked briefly to the portal and then immediately went looking for whoever had caused it, while Laurent stared toward France as if transfixed.
At the same time, all three Drakin were yanked forward in unison and swallowed by the courtyard. What remained was an empty space and a worried Cecilia behind the window.
Ro felt a firm grip at the back of his neck and, purely on instinct, drove his fingers into the arm holding him. Aimeric at his side seemed far less panicked or disoriented, almost disturbingly calm, as if he were already bracing for the impact to come. Laurent, meanwhile, clung to his nephew with all his strength.
It was a brief, chaotic mess that Mace hurled them into, and then there was solid rock beneath their feet, wind tearing at them, and Ro gasping for air while Aimeric was already turning around. A sharp jolt of fear shot through Ro when he felt his father tapping into the resources of the surroundings as if it were his god-given right, turning toward the attacker — but before the old Drakin could summon even a single drop of water, Mace vanished like a weasel and took Ro’s fear with him.
Ro immediately tried to locate Dane, but he couldn’t find him, even though he’d actually wanted to tell him how insanely hot he looked in his tactical gear.
“What was —” Laurent began, looking far more overwhelmed than the rest of the family.
“Accident,” Ro cut in bluntly, shaking himself.
“Blackwell’s damned demon scum…” Aimeric muttered under his breath, running a hand through hair that was no longer perfectly styled. His briefcase had vanished somewhere along the way.
“Why are we at the Calanques? …Ro?” Laurent shook his head in disbelief and looked at his nephew, who was currently trying to kill his father with his eyes.
“Since I learned from you just how damn important your land is to you, I figured I’d have to kidnap you,” Ro growled, clenching his fists. “Are you willing to listen to me now?”
The sea greeted him again with its untamed nature, his skin flickering bluish again and again.
Aimeric didn’t even look at him, instead scanning the area for the demons who were well concealed but had already left traces — two auras, one clearly Dane’s, the other unfamiliar. Like a bloodhound, the old Drakin picked up on them and casually unbuttoned his jacket, clearly signaling that playtime was over.
“Figures you can’t do anything on your own.”
Ro felt even less valued than he already had. Without warning, he slammed his fist into his father’s shoulder. Aimeric stumbled a step sideways and, for the first time, looked straight at his son. Ro’s blue eyes glowed, his pupils already narrowed.
“You’re going to take me seriously now, damn it!”
“And what exactly am I supposed to take seriously about you, hm, Mireaux?” Aimeric sneered, his jacket landing carelessly on the ground. “You’re good for nothing but words and empty gestures.”
“Please, we can talk about this on the way back—” Laurent raised both hands placatingly, but reached no one.
Ro called out to his dragon, but it remained sealed away, so this really was on him. His eyes changed too, the scale pattern emerging as the magical density around him continued to rise.
“You really think you can keep talking me down, you piece of shit.”
Something flashed in Aimeric’s eyes. “You’re looking for a confrontation.”
“Wow, applause, that didn’t take long.”
“You think I’ll indulge you.” Aimeric straightened, fully in control, packing all his mockery into his next words. “Your friend is a demon; they deal in words and contracts. You’ve probably worked out some kind of signal so your friend can come rescue you. So I certainly won’t—”
Ro exploded—not just figuratively, but literally.
A mass of water burst outward from his body in all directions, catching Laurent and flinging him backward toward the cliff. Aimeric was hit head-on, but the water deflected off him as if it had struck an invisible wall, his own magical pressure effortlessly holding against his son’s.
Ro now had clearly visible scales along his arms and neck, small horn tips showing through his hair.
“Do whatever you want, but I WILL get my name back!” Ro shouted at his father and lunged at him with clawed hands.
Aimeric reacted instantly, catching one arm and twisting it aside. In one smooth motion they both went to the ground as Aimeric conjured a wall of water and forced Ro down. A dark blue sheen now shimmered across Aimeric’s skin as the dragon slowly joined in.
“You will not get it.”
“But… I… have to!” Ro forced out, biting down on his own tongue as he gathered raw magic inside himself and sent it surging through the hand of his father that was still pinning him.
Aimeric recoiled as energies collided with a loud crack. “I won’t repeat myself, and let go now, or you’ll get your first real lesson in your life.”
“Then do it!” Ro scrambled back up, the sea below roaring along with him.

Too many emotions were fighting for control over Ro’s body. He felt hurt by his own father and the utter lack of appreciation. He was ashamed because he had talked such a big game in front of Dane and had accomplished nothing so far. He was angry because his father simply did not understand how dangerously serious the situation really was. And he was sad that it had come to this confrontation at all. The air around Ro was saturated with the potent magic inside him. His aura expanded to an unprecedented extent, claiming everything it could reach. When it pushed toward Aimeric, the older Drakin narrowed his eyes and his head twitched oddly to the side — an unmistakable exchange between him and his dragon. Where horns had grown from Ro, a reptilian tail forced its way free on Aimeric, its tip shaped like a leaf and lined with spines along the top. His scales, too, were visible now, shimmering in a deep navy blue.
“Aimeric!” Laurent snapped at his brother from the sidelines. “You can’t seriously act like this toward your own son!”
“If the boy doesn’t understand any other way,” Aimeric replied, his voice far deeper than usual — deep enough that Ro instinctively took almost a step back. He knew the signs of a transformation when it came on slowly. “Apparently he’s unhappy with his position.”
“How can you treat your own child like this?!” Ro could not — would not — ever understand it. Why was his father like this? What on earth had he done to deserve sowing such discord? “I didn’t choose ANY of this! None of it!”
Aimeric seemed unwilling to listen. As he stepped forward, his shape began to warp. Water gathered in streams around his body, distorting what was changing beneath. As Aimeric grew in size, Ro could only retreat, wide-eyed, watching his father do the very thing that was denied to him.
It took only a few seconds before a presence filled the space — one Ro had last felt as a child. Back then it had driven him to his knees; now that same power seemed to help him stand his ground. His heart hammered in his throat as the water settled and a massive water dragon emerged.
Aimeric’s dragon form was slender, like all water dragons. They were barely armored with plates and generally lacked the raw physical strength of their earthbound cousins. Instead, they were agile, elegant, and blindingly fast. Their mastery over water — the element of change — was so immense that a single thought was enough to command it. Aimeric’s belly was almost white, like that of a great white shark; the blue began along his flanks and deepened toward the sharp dorsal crest, which was connected by fins and could be raised. The horns on his head were not curved but sharp and conical, angled back. His nearly arm-length fangs were designed for a marine diet — and just as lethal. But the biggest problem was this: Aimeric was no longer in control. His dragon was.
A heartbeat passed, then Aimeric locked onto Ro, whose own dragon burst from its cocoon in response to the looming threat. Before Ro could draw on it, Aimeric lifted a clawed foot and brought it crashing down on him. With a shout, Ro threw himself aside, the shockwave pushing him even farther. He scrambled to his feet as his dragon channeled sharp icicles in the air and hurled them at the softer parts of Aimeric’s body. They shattered against a fleeting water shield Aimeric conjured.
Ro clenched his teeth. He couldn’t do this. How was he supposed to stand up to his father without fully accessing his own dragon? He didn’t want to rely on Dane — not now. There had to be something in his miserable life he could manage on his own.
“Ro! Just run!” Laurent shouted to his nephew, the signs of his own dragon visible on his skin.
Ro tore his gaze away from Aimeric and looked at his uncle. “No! I have to—”
A mistake.
Aimeric used that second to strike again with his foot. This time Ro wasn’t fast enough. He felt an immense weight slam into him, driving him to the ground and crushing him into the stone. The air was knocked from his lungs as sharp claws scraped the rock on either side of him, pinning him from the waist down. One arm was trapped beneath a claw — he felt nothing but searing pain. With his free arm, he began to pound desperately against the scale-covered foot.
“Let… go…!”
Nothing moved. Instead, Aimeric lowered his snout and blew hot breath into his son’s face. Frustration, rage, and pain blended together, forcing tears into Ro’s eyes — but he refused to break eye contact. His magic rebelled inside a vessel far too small, boiling over and lashing out at the other dragon. Their auras brushed, and a silent exchange passed between the dragons — inaudible to Ro.
This was the exact moment he realized: Aimeric felt Ros remaining life force and Ro felt a glimpse of what his true name might have been.

Suddenly, hell quite literally broke loose.
Laurent had already been halfway toward Aimeric and Ro when a portal tore open. He skidded to a halt as it appeared, and even Aimeric tore his gaze away from Ro. He felt the demons before he saw them and drew his power closer to himself. When a shockwave hit him, he was forced to release Ro. Dane and Mace hadn’t managed to drive Aimeric far back—but they had made him lift his foot from Ro and reset his stance, head lowered, jaws bared.
Mace appeared at Ro’s side and helped the coughing young man to his feet. The sharp claw had torn open his upper arm, warm blood running down his bluish skin. Ro grimaced and waved Mace off. “I’m fine. I can handle it.” Probably a lie — but things were already spiraling out of control again.
On the other side, Aimeric prepared himself. Everything that came into direct contact with his aura was hit by an uncontrolled, searing surge of energy. Water surged around his clawed feet, countless droplets wavering in the air around him. “My wife has no idea what she’s sticking her nose into,” the dragon rumbled, so loudly that even Ro nearly covered his ears. It was a deep vibration that shook his chest and drove the dragon inside him into a frenzy.
Aimeric seemed unfazed by Dane stripping off his coat — but every alarm bell in Ro went off at once. “Mace!” He grabbed the blond demon roughly by the arm. “He can’t do that!” He didn’t stay at Mace’s side anyway, already rushing toward Dane.
“Someone ought to show you big-mouthed demons that you’re not masters of everything,” Aimeric snarled. Torrents of clear water coiled around the dragon’s body, the droplets beginning to spin faster and faster — so fast they could have cut through steel.
Ro had never been this afraid. Afraid that, for the first time, the situation had truly gone too far — and couldn’t be mended again. Before his eyes, Dane’s appearance shifted subtly, his hair turning snow-white instead of black. The flames that had terrified Ro even back then danced along a sword he knew all too well — and feared just as much. The one weapon he had never wanted to see.
“Dane, don’t use it!” Ro wanted nothing more than to throw himself into Dane’s arms, but he only dared approach within a meter. The sword warned him not to come any closer. “He has him! He has my name!”
He had felt it in that brief moment of contact—the echo of his name resonating within Aimeric’s aura. Somehow, impossibly, his father had found it. Now he just had to get it back.
Ro raised his hands placatingly and stepped between dragon and demon. “Aimeric, come on,” he tried again, this time pleading. “You took him from me. Fine. But I need him back. You felt it, didn’t you? My body can’t hold this power for long.” He pressed a fist to his chest, where his heart was racing far too fast. “Dad — you don’t want to be responsible for the death of your only son, do you?”
Aimeric hissed and snapped his head away, as if he refused to hear any of it. As though the façade was cracking, revealing something like pain beneath. Ro didn’t understand it, but he felt that something truly weighed on his father. The watery barrier ebbed, the droplets slowing, the streams narrowing as Aimeric turned his massive body halfway aside.
“…You don’t know what it means.”
Ro faltered at the regret coloring the dragon’s voice.
And then a massive sweep of Aimeric’s tail knocked him off his feet.
His hand brushed Dane’s arm as he tried to hold on — but he slipped away. Instead, Ro clawed his fingers into the scales of the dragon’s tail, his aura forcing its way into his father’s. Connections formed. Ro understood things — and then…
He lost his grip and fell straight over the cliff, down into the roaring sea.
“MIREAUX!” Laurent screamed in horror. Wings burst from his back as he sprinted for the edge and hurled himself over it, diving after his nephew into the depths.
Aimeric turned to Dane and deliberately placed himself between him and the cliff, his body forming a clear boundary Dane was not allowed to cross.
“I helped him,” Aimeric growled, baring his teeth, his voice stripped of its usual indifference. “Without a name, he can’t claim his inheritance. Without a name, the Circle won’t be able to force him to take the position of Regra of the water dragons. I gave him freedom. I didn’t bind him in chains.”
His blue eyes gleamed — utterly devoid of malice.
“I was told it would have no other effect on him. No one could have known it might kill him. I didn’t know.”
In the background, a figure shot back up over the edge of the cliff. A drenched Laurent landed heavily, pushing wet hair from his face. His expression was a blank mask as he shook his head. “I can’t find him. It’s like he vanished — but I saw him fall into the water… Oh God, Aimeric, you—”
Aimeric snapped his head up just as Laurent flinched and the entire area seemed to tremble — as though something new had entered the scene. Something powerful. Aimeric fixed a piercing stare on the demon before him.
“Then try to judge what cannot be judged.”
Another shadow — far larger — surged up over the cliff. With a ground-shaking impact that sent fragments of the rocky coast splintering off into the sea, a second dragon landed on the stone. Seawater still dripped from his deep-blue scales, so dark they were nearly black, down over his white belly. Like Aimeric, his form was elegant and slender, wiry, armed with razor-sharp claws and teeth. His tail ended in a leaf-shaped tip, a sharp crest running along his back.
But this dragon had wings, which he was just folding in, and spiraled horns.
The greatest difference, however, lay in his lapis-lazuli eyes, which fixed first on Laurent, then Mace, then Aimeric — and finally Dane.
Unexpectedly, Aimeric bared his teeth. An ugly hiss from the second dragon answered him. In size, the two were evenly matched.
“Ro…?” Laurent voiced what was painfully obvious.

“I neither stole power nor used it against him,” Aimeric rumbled, positioning himself so he could keep both Dane and the second dragon in his line of sight. The older Drakin appeared remarkably unfazed by the transformation Dane was undergoing — likely a matter of long-earned experience.
On the other side, Laurent approached the dragon cautiously, almost reverently. “Ro… so you can after all… You did get him back after all…”
The dragon — or rather, Ro — snapped at Laurent and hissed at him. He clearly either couldn’t or wouldn’t speak, or simply saw no point in doing so. In any case, he made it very clear that he did not want to be touched. And Dane didn’t get much more than a single look in response to his question either.
Then, in the very next second, Ro went on the offensive.
Without warning, he hurled himself at Aimeric, who answered with a roar. Jaws snapped at empty air, claws scraped over scales and tore into both flesh and stone. Tails lashed wildly, a danger to everyone present. It was the first time Ro was truly able to defend himself without Dane’s help—the first time he could lead a serious attack.
Ro landed a vicious wing strike against Aimeric’s head, who responded by forming sharp ice projectiles and raining them down on him. Mid-motion, Ro jerked his head up and brought the missiles to a dead stop in the air. An unseen contest of will unfolded between the dragons over who held greater control — and to Aimeric’s dismay, Ro gained the upper hand. His son turned the tables and sent the projectiles hurtling back at their creator. Aimeric melted them in flight so that only water struck his body, then shamelessly exploited his son’s moment of triumph and slammed into him with his full mass.
The ground trembled as the dragons reeled and struggled to dominate one another. Ro couldn’t yet fully handle his new body, but his elemental and magical power as Regra was, to Aimeric’s irritation, genuinely indisputable. His suspicions had been correct.
As the dragons continued to clash, Laurent circled the entire scene. There was nothing he could change here. He didn’t dare approach Dane either, so he went to Mace, hoping he might at least be of some use there. “That really is Ro! I don’t know how, but he tore his name out of Aimeric and transformed. Make Mr. Blackwell understand that nothing terrible has happened to Ro! He needs to put that… THING away.”
Meanwhile, the fight between the dragons grew increasingly brutal, increasingly reckless. From the outside, it was clear that the human side within them was losing influence. The dragons took over completely, settling their rank before the eyes of the onlookers. Then Ro managed a maneuver with his wings, creating space for his head and lunging forward. His jaws closed around Aimeric’s throat, who cried out loudly and struggled to break free. But Ro forced him to the ground and held him there — without delivering the killing bite. He was making a point, once and for all.
Slowly, Aimeric’s resistance faded until the dragon conceded defeat. Blood was spattered everywhere, puddles had formed, and deep gouges in the stone bore witness to the battle. Ro released his grip on Aimeric’s neck and straightened. With a shake of his head, Aimeric sat up, snorted, and then began to shift back into his human form. Laurent hurried to him to at least drape his jacket over his shoulders — the rest of his clothes had been torn apart during the transformation.
“Are you satisfied now, Mr. Blackwell?” Aimeric snapped, rubbing his neck as he looked toward Ro, who had moved to the edge of the cliff and was staring down at the place from which his father had thrown him. “Now he has his name back — and has lost control of himself. You have no idea who you’ll be dealing with once his dragon withdraws. The Council will descend on him like vultures because they want to see their ranks completed. He should not be forced to bear the burden of his birthright if he does not want it.”
Laurent cast a guilty look toward Dane. “He truly didn’t do it out of malice. We knew that a Regra is bound by obligations that would shackle him. That’s why I helped look for ways to sever his name…”
In the background, Ro spread his pitch-black wings and let the wind catch them. It was strange how content and unburdened a being could appear, simply standing at the edge of a cliff and enjoying the wind. But that was exactly what this dragon radiated in that moment.
Peace.

Ro stood right at the edge of the abyss. When Aimeric had thrown him over the cliff and knocked the air from his lungs, the bond had already been forged. His name — tethered somewhere within Aimeric’s aura, waiting for its owner — had returned to him like a lightning strike. Ro likely could have reclaimed it much earlier, had there ever been a confrontation like this. It had taken this step to get his name back. The entire act of stealing it had been nearly impossible to begin with, and even less sustainable. His name had been fleeting, ready to return of its own accord, instantly filling the void that had accompanied Ro for years.
When he crashed into the icy waters of the sea, he burned from the inside out as his dragon’s cocoon tore open and his name finally mended the broken bond. The sheer magical power that had accumulated within his human body was unleashed, and whether Ro wanted it or not, his first transformation took place. His consciousness was pushed so far into the background by that overwhelming force that he once again found himself a silent spectator within his own body. Even so, he still perceived everything his dragon — Tarasque — experienced.
The transformation was anything but clean. Ro felt his bones break, felt flesh tear apart and rearrange itself. He felt scales and skin being formed from elements and magic, and wings bursting from his back. Had he still been in control, he would have drowned in the icy waters from the pain alone — but Tarasque held it all together, made it whole. No sooner was the transformation complete than the dragon had to acclimate to his form, before surging up out of the sea with explosive force. Ro had not merely observed the ensuing fight in silence; he had actively urged Tarasque on. Their shared fury made them strong and ultimately brought Aimeric down.
But now Ro realized that sheer violence would not return his control. The books said that the longer it took until a first transformation, the wilder the dragons became — far more inclined to revel in their newfound freedom once they finally materialized. No matter how hard Ro tried to draw Tarasque’s attention, the dragon was completely absorbed by his surroundings, by sensations and impressions. And above all, he finally possessed the power to assert himself — and that made the creature dangerously unpredictable.
Horror flooded Ro as he sensed Dane approaching. There was nothing he wanted more than to throw himself into his arms, but Tarasque had other plans. The man drawing closer was a demon — a threat, a potential rival. Ro couldn’t understand why Tarasque felt this way, after everything the dragon had already sensed and learned through him. It was as though all rational thought had simply abandoned the dragon.
Within their shared mind, Ro cried out as Tarasque suddenly snapped his head around and lunged at Dane with bared, razor-sharp teeth. Ro’s heart sank even further when the demon deftly dodged, the snapping jaws closing on nothing but air. The deep rumble that rolled out of the dragon’s chest carried more than a trace of Ro’s own terror.
Tarasque folded his wings tightly against his body, so close they seemed to merge with his frame. He lowered his head and hissed at the demon, who stood there anything but hostile. Inside, Ro raged, screamed at his dragon, tried to reason with him. Never before had his dragon felt so wild, so alien. It took time for Ro to realize that they were both completely overwhelmed by the situation. This madness couldn’t go on forever — but Tarasque clearly disagreed, summoning water and hurling it at Dane with such immense pressure that it could cut through steel and stone alike.