Gabriel’s arm drew back as he gripped the string of his bow, one hand firmly against the tempered oak. One eye closed, measuring distance and angle. He aimed at the target—a figure a hundred yards away, silhouetted against the training grounds. He let out a final breath, his body motionless as he steadied his form. Then, with a snap, his fingers released the string. The bow hummed in his hand, and the arrow cut through the air in a swift arc. He watched it with focus, but his concentration shattered as the arrow whizzed past the target, missing by mere inches.

“Damn it,” Gabriel muttered, shoulders slumping slightly.

“You know, you can’t be good at everything,” Jonan teased, grinning as he crossed his arms. “Wouldn’t be fair to the rest of us, Prime.”

Ryn chuckled from the sidelines. “Wouldn’t be Orion if he just gave up, though.”

Gabriel straightened, a determined set to his jaw. “I need to improve with the bow. You never know when it’ll come in handy.”

“You’ve excelled in every other skill,” Lakan said, his voice laced with encouragement. “You don’t have to master this one to stay on top.”

Gabriel nodded, though his expression remained resolute. “Maybe, but still…”

“You’re practically guaranteed to be Prime again,” Lakan muttered, his voice subdued, as if the admission carried a hidden weight.

Noticing his friend’s hesitancy, Gabriel stepped closer, concern softening his gaze. “Hey, are you alright?”

Lakan hesitated, his gaze dropping to the ground. He let out a long, quiet breath. “I’m fine.”

Gabriel stayed silent, sensing that Lakan needed space to voice his struggle, but when his friend fell quiet, Gabriel’s heart ached for him. He knew why his friend wasn’t ‘fine’. He knew Lakan had harboured hope that the divide between would close, but it had only widened since the tournament. He studied Lakan’s face, reading the vulnerability there, a quiet conflict that only a close friend could see.

“The journey is long, Lakan. Who knows what lies ahead? Like your father always says, ‘Prepare for anything.’”

A small laugh escaped Lakan, lightening the air between them. “Using my father’s wisdom against me? That’s low, even for you.”

As they stood there, Gabriel couldn’t help but reflect on how far they had all come. His journey since arriving at the academy had been nothing short of relentless—a pursuit of perfection that left little room for anything else. Nearly half a year had passed since the tournament, yet it felt like both a lifetime and a blur. Training had intensified with each passing moon cycle, pushing them all to their limits.

Swordsmanship drills were no longer the mere basics; now, every movement, every strike, had to be precise, powerful, instinctual. The strategic exercises demanded more foresight and cunning, forcing Gabriel to think three steps ahead, to anticipate and counter with a precision he hadn’t known he was capable of. Physical conditioning was grueling, testing not just his endurance but his spirit. And the group battles—those were becoming less like practice and more like true skirmishes, each one demanding coordination, quick thinking, and unwavering trust in his friends.

Even their classes had evolved. Archery, which he’d initially struggled with, was now a constant challenge, one he was determined to conquer. And then there were the lessons in caring for and riding steeds, the instructors insisting they become one with their mounts. They were also spending more time beyond the city walls.

As Gabriel glanced around, watching Lakan, Ryn, and Jonan deep in conversation and Lexon and Jara sparring nearby, he was reminded that he wasn’t alone. Even Jara and Lexon—one quiet and secretive, the other open and carefree—had somehow found common ground, their contrasting personalities forging an unexpected friendship.

They were all being shaped by this shared struggle, molded into something stronger, sharper, together.

With a deep breath, Gabriel called out, “I think that’s enough training for today.”

The boys stopped, exchanging surprised glances, brows raised as if they were waiting for the catch.

“We’ve all been working hard. Let’s enjoy the rest of the day,” he continued, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Jonan’s eyes widened in exaggerated shock. He slapped himself dramatically, blinking in disbelief. “Is this a dream?” he asked, pinching his arm.

Lakan laughed the loudest. “It’s real, brother.”

“I’m going to visit the Fifth Legion. Want to join me?” Gabriel asked.

Ryn’s eyes lit up. “You want us to hang out with your soldier friends?”

“Why not?” Gabriel shrugged. “We’re going to join them—or another legion—when we finish our third year. Might as well get used to it.”

“That’s still a year and a half away,” Jonan pointed out.

“It wouldn’t hurt for you to meet some soldiers,” Gabriel replied.

Jonan nudged him playfully. “Admit it, Orion—you just want to see your other friends.”

Gabriel grinned, a bit sheepishly. “Alright, maybe a little. So, are you coming?”

Lakan nodded first. “I’ll join you.”

Ryn gave him a friendly nudge. “Can’t let you get too far ahead. Looks like I’ll have to come too.”

“Looks like we’re all about to learn the ways of soldiering,” Lexon added with a grin.

Just then, Jara spoke up, his tone quieter. “I have to see my family today.”

Gabriel’s smile faded slightly as he turned to Jara. “Everything fine?”

Jara hesitated, then as if remembering a question had been asked of him answered. “Of course, I just told them I would see them today” Jara finally replied, his tone light but strained, as though he was working too hard to sound unaffected. His words stretched just a little too thin to be convincing. Gabriel knew that tone well—the kind people used when they didn’t want to reveal too much.

Gabriel watched him, making a mental note. I’ll have to talk to him soon.

After Jara bid them farewell, Gabriel and the others set off. They walked in comfortable silence through the bustling streets, the city alive with the sounds and scents of daily life. Gabriel glanced around, taking in the vibrant stalls, the laughter, the aroma of freshly baked bread. He realized, with a hint of surprise, how little he’d explored this city outside the academy grounds.

He slowed his pace, letting the hum of the city wash over him. I’ve been so focused on training… there’s a whole world here I haven’t even discovered.

He turned to the group, a small smile tugging at his lips. “What do you say we eat some food?”

His friends gave him a mix of surprised and curious looks, clearly taken aback by his spontaneous suggestion.

Gabriel shrugged, his smile widening just a bit. “I was just thinking… we haven’t really spent much time exploring the city together.”

Jonan’s mouth dropped open dramatically. “That’s because you’re always too busy training!”

Gabriel chuckled. “Well, maybe it’s still a bit early. The regiment might not even be up yet.”

Ryn smirked. “Now that makes more sense. I was getting worried about you for a second.”

“At least he hasn’t completely changed overnight,” Lakan chimed in with a grin.

Gabriel rolled his eyes. “I’m not that bad…”

They all exchanged glances, sharing a silent joke that Gabriel wasn’t entirely in on. Lexon alone remained indifferent, either not understanding or simply not caring. A beat of silence passed, and then Jonan broke it with a playful wink.

“Sure, you ain’t, Prime,” he teased, his tone exaggeratedly reverent.

Ryn chuckled and said, “There’s a nice little place I know. We could go there.”

Gabriel nodded. “Sounds good. Lead the way.”

“I’m not that hungry,” Lexon murmured.

Gabriel raised an eyebrow. Lexon was always hungry; it was practically a given.

“Either way, come along,” Jonan said with a dismissive wave.

Lexon nodded, albeit hesitantly, and the group began their journey, following Ryn as he led the way. Lakan walked to his side, while Jonan, as usual, couldn't contain his energy. He sped up, practically barreling down the street, nearly knocking over a few unsuspecting passersby. With a laugh, he slipped between Ryn and Lakan, swinging his arms around their shoulders, lifting his feet off the ground, and leaning his full weight on them as he hung in the air.

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

“We are going on an adventure!” he crowed, his voice full of mock drama.

As they moved past the bustling outskirts of the market, street vendors called out, vying for attention with practiced ease, their voices blending into a symphony of lively chatter. Somehow, amidst the noise and clamor, it all felt harmonious—an organized chaos that was unmistakably alive.

A faint smile played on his lips as he absorbed the sights and sounds around him, savoring the rare moment of peace. But then, in the distance, he spotted Velar walking towards them along the same pathway.

The look in Velar’s eyes reminded Gabriel of that night—when he’d stood over Velar, a blade in hand, ready to act upon his rage,

Velar quickly averted his gaze, his confident stride faltering. He kept his head down as he passed by, steps picking up pace, his usual bravado replaced by a nervous urgency. Gabriel turned slightly, watching him scurry away, his gaze unwavering. Velar had only managed another ten steps before he glanced back, catching sight of Gabriel’s scrutinizing eyes. Immediately, he turned his head away and hurried onward.

“You scared him real good in the tournament,” Jonan laughed, nudging Gabriel with a smirk.

“He had it coming,” Gabriel replied, his voice calm, though there was a cold edge beneath.

Gabriel glanced at Ryn, noticing his friend’s jaw tighten, his fists clenched. The familiar spark of anger simmered in Ryn’s eyes—a reminder that he hadn’t forgiven Velar for what he had done… for what he had said.

Memories resurfaced in Gabriel’s mind, flashing back to the days after Ryn had healed from their fight. It was then that Ryn had finally confided in him, explaining the source of the rage that had overtaken him. Velar hadn’t just taunted him in battle; He’d insulted Ryn’s deceased brother, who had once served in the same company as Velar’s brother, Vax. Velar had sneered, calling Ryn’s brother weak, saying he deserved to be culled.

Gabriel recalled the fire in Ryn’s eyes during that confession, a raw anger he had never seen in his normally calm and calculating friend. Ryn, the strategist, the one who kept his emotions under lock and key, had been pushed to his breaking point. In that moment, Gabriel had glimpsed the depths of Ryn’s pain—and it was a pain he knew all too well.

In the quiet hours after that revelation, Gabriel had paid Velar a visit in the infirmary. A blade clutched in his hand, he’d crept into the dimly lit room, ready to make Velar pay for the cruelty he’d inflicted on Ryn. He could still remember the look in Velar’s eyes, wide with terror as Gabriel pressed his hand over the boy’s mouth, silencing any cries for help. Velar’s whole body had trembled, his fear palpable. Gabriel had breathed it all in, feeding off that terror, poised to end him right then and there.

But he hadn’t. Instead, he had issued a warning—a promise. If Velar ever uttered another insult about Ryn or any of his friends, it would be his last.

Velar had reported the incident, but curiously, no one at the academy had said a word about it. Gabriel had come to realize that being Prime came with certain privileges—and perhaps a measure of protection he hadn’t fully understood until then.

He blinked, pulled from his thoughts as he felt a light brush against his arm. He looked up to find Lakan beside him, a gentle smile on his face.

“We’ll just have to remind him of his place if he ever steps out of line again,” Lakan said, his tone casual yet reassuring.

Gabriel returned the nod, a silent understanding passing between them. Only Lakan knew what he had done that night; only he had noticed Gabriel slipping back to their quarters in the quiet hours, his expression hardened by resolve. Lakan hadn’t questioned him then—he’d simply nodded in quiet solidarity, as Gabriel did now.

"Come on, we're almost there," Ryn said, his voice light but with a hint of urgency.

Gabriel couldn’t tell if Ryn was trying to distract the group or himself, but either way, his words rang true. Moments later, they arrived in front of a tall building nestled between two smaller ones. The structure was crafted from the same stone as much of the city, yet there was a distinct charm to it that set it apart. Intricate wooden moldings framed the entrance, and stained glass windows cast colorful reflections onto the street, making it stand out from its plainer neighbors.

“Is this it?” Gabriel asked.

Ryn nodded, grinning. “I can almost taste the food from here.”

Gabriel glanced around. “No sign outside? How does anyone know where it is?”

Ryn smirked. “When you’re the best, everyone already knows.”

They entered, and a young girl immediately approached them, poised and professional. “Do you have a reservation, young sirs?” she asked, eyeing them with polite curiosity.

Ryn stepped forward, a smirk playing on his lips. “Surely the Prime of the academy doesn’t need a reservation.”

The girl arched an eyebrow, glancing around the group as if sizing them up. Her expression clearly questioning who the ‘Prime’ was supposed to be.

Gabriel sighed, stepping out from behind Lakan, realizing Ryn had just thrown the spotlight on him. “Hello there,” he said with a warm smile. “What’s your name?”

“It’s Abigail, sir,” she replied, looking slightly taken aback.

“‘Sir’? I’m no older than you,” Gabriel said with a playful wink.

“Oh—I didn’t mean anything by it,” she stammered.

“Of course not,” Gabriel replied with an easy laugh. “I’m only teasing. I’m sure your job is hard enough without having to deal with five rowdy boys.”

Abigail opened her mouth to respond, but for a moment, no words came out. She seemed caught off guard, and for a split second, her professionalism slipped, replaced by a genuine smile.

“I’ll find you the best table we have,” she finally said, regaining her composure.

"Thank you, Abigail. Victra be with you," Gabriel said warmly.

She nodded enthusiastically and gestured for them to follow her. As they made their way to the table, Jonan looked at Gabriel, then dropped to one knee with a dramatic flourish. "What would we do without you, Prime?"

Gabriel sighed, walking over to his friend and giving him a light smack on the back of the head. "For starters, you wouldn’t be getting smacked around as much."

"I wouldn’t bet on that," Lakan chuckled.

Lexon, meanwhile, was unusually quiet as they entered the dining area. Normally, he’d have a comment or two about the surroundings, but today he seemed preoccupied, his gaze wandering around the restaurant without his usual spark.

Once they were seated, Abigail handed each of them a thin sheet of paper listing the menu. Gabriel's brow quirked as he scanned the prices—higher than he expected, though his stipend more than covered it. He’d rarely dipped into the funds provided by the academy or the royal family, so he brushed the numbers off without much thought.

He watched as the others started to order. Ryn and Jonan were clearly comfortable with the process, selecting their meals with ease. Lakan, on the other hand, glanced nervously from side to side, subtly observing what the others were doing, hoping to mimic them without drawing attention. Gabriel understood; he hadn’t eaten in many restaurants either, having mostly dined at the castle or grabbed street food when he could escape the palace back in Accamania.

As they all ordered, Lexon chose not to get any food, continuing his claims of not being hungry. An idea struck Gabriel, and he ordered more food than he could eat. Before long, steaming plates began arriving at the table, piled high with assortments of roasted meats, fresh-baked bread, and rich sauces. The smoky, savory scents filled the air, making his mouth water.

As everyone dug in, Gabriel noticed Lexon sitting back slightly, his eyes lingering on the food but his hands remaining still. He seemed to be resisting the urge to reach for the plates, despite his usual healthy appetite. Gabriel remembered that Lexon was the only one among them who wasn’t the son of a noble or a well-known soldier. Money was likely tighter for him, and his reluctance to order had probably been due to a lack of funds.

Gabriel turned to Lexon with a casual smile. "I think I may have ordered a bit too much," he said, gesturing to the bounty of food in front of him. "I got way too excited seeing all these dishes. I know you said you’re not hungry, but would you mind helping me finish? I’d hate for it to go to waste."

Lexon hesitated, glancing around the table, clearly torn.

Gabriel kept his tone light, trying to make it sound like nothing out of the ordinary. He knew Lexon would never accept charity, but framed this way, it wouldn’t seem like a handout. "Come on," Gabriel added, grinning. "Think of it as doing me a favor."

Finally, Lexon gave a small nod. "Alright, but only because I can’t stand to see good food wasted."

With that, Lexon began to fill his plate, and Gabriel felt a quiet satisfaction. He watched his friends dig in, the air around the table filled with laughter and clinking silverware. For a brief moment, he felt as if all his worries had melted away. Here, in this bustling little restaurant with his friends by his side, the weight of his responsibilities faded, and he could just enjoy the simple pleasure of sharing a meal.

They sat together in comfortable silence, savoring the feast. No one spoke—not even Jonan, who usually couldn't resist filling the quiet with a joke or two. The only sounds were the soft clinks of cutlery and the occasional murmur of contentment.

“That was the best food I’ve ever had,” Lakan declared, as he dropped his cutlery on the table, leaning back with a look of utter satisfaction.

“Better than the palace feast after the tournament,” Jonan said with mock seriousness, then turning to Ryn with his tongue stuck out.

Ryn scoffed. “You were only there because of a pity invite!”

“At least I was there!” Jonan shot back, grinning.

“A hit to the head prevented me from attending,” Ryn replied, shaking his head.

Jonan chuckled, leaning into his usual humor. “Well, I was dropped as a child, and look how I turned out—just fine!”

The whole table burst into laughter, and Gabriel felt a warmth bloom in his chest.

"Orion took a knock to the head in the forest, and he's been a little slow ever since," Lakan teased, grinning.

"Oh, Victra, help us—it's contagious! You've been corrupted by Jonan's nonsense," Ryn said, shaking his head with mock despair.

Gabriel crossed his arms defensively. "I was just trying to set a snare for a deer!"

They all laughed, remembering their time in the forest, where the masters had drilled them in survival skills—setting traps, hunting, starting fires. For Gabriel, it had been a harsh reminder of the skills he’d once been forced to learn alone, fleeing through perilous woods. Although, that day, he’d learned a lesson of a more humorous kind.

"A snare for a deer?" Jonan cackled. "You only managed to catch your own foot in that branch when you tumbled out of the tree!"

"Hey, it happened once," Gabriel retorted, trying to keep a straight face. "And I was perfectly fine after that."

Lakan's laughter boomed. "Didn’t you need stitches after that little adventure?"

"Details, details," Gabriel waved it off, trying to sound nonchalant.

Ryn smirked. "First time I’ve ever heard you downplay details."

Gabriel sighed dramatically. "Lexon, please, save me from these savages."

Lexon didn’t even look up, shoveling more food onto his plate. "I’m busy eating."

Gabriel shook his head, exasperated. "Of course you are."

Their laughter was infectious, filling the space with a sense of ease that soothed his constant worries and pains. In moments like these, he could almost believe he had left his burdens behind. But his mind drifted. He was trying, in his own way, to stay grounded, to live in the moment rather than drown in the shadows of the past. But it was a losing battle some days, his mind forever drawn back to the ghosts that haunted him.

He had been working with Tunklard on unravelling his emotions, on trying to analyze his own psyche, so that he could be in control of himself whenever he used his power. But it meant that he constantly had to talk about the past, constantly talk about how it made him feel.

Gabriel took a deep breath, grounding himself in the moment, determined to stay present with his friends—if only for a little while longer. They had earned this brief reprieve, and so had he.

After a pause, Lakan finally spoke up. “So, time to visit the legion?”

Jonan groaned dramatically. “Do we have to?”

Gabriel stifled a laugh as they all rose from the table. Each of them settled their share of the bill, except for Lexon, who visibly relaxed when he realized he didn’t have to pay. Together, they made their way out of the restaurant and back into the bustling streets.

As they walked toward the regiment, Ryn fell into step beside Gabriel. After a moment, he glanced at him, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “That was kind of you.”

Gabriel raised an eyebrow in mild confusion. “What was?”

“Covering Lexon’s food without making it obvious,” Ryn replied, patting him on the shoulder.

Gabriel shrugged, a little embarrassed. “It wasn’t like that.”

Ryn only smiled, and Gabriel couldn’t help but smile back.