=92nd Year of the Eighth Era= Vi'nto

The early morning air clung with a cool, damp edge as Laphisto and Elantrie went about their assigned tasks, shrouded in a silence so taut it was like a rope stretched too tight. Overhead, a muted sun began to cast feeble rays through the mist, illuminating bruises that still shadowed their scales, remnants of the fight that had erupted between them the previous night. The cuts on Laphisto’s face had mostly closed, leaving tender scabs, while Elantrie bore a faint purple blotch beneath one eye, barely visible under her resilient expression.

They hadn’t exchanged a single word since sunrise, each lost in their own thoughts as they worked, their movements tense and precise as if unwilling to let any vulnerability slip out in front of each other.

From his position, Nes'ver watched with a faint, amused smile, arms crossed in his usual, relaxed manner. Every so often, he adjusted his stance, as though seeking a more comfortable position to “supervise” the punishment unfolding before him. He appeared thoroughly entertained by their silence, his gaze darting from Laphisto to Elantrie like a spectator waiting for the next act to begin.

Finally, Nes’ver decided he’d waited long enough to break the tension. Clearing his throat loudly, he drawled with an exaggerated casualness, “So… how’s the glorious teamwork going? Considering the... spirited discussion you two had last night, I’m sure this is a wonderful bonding experience.”

Elantrie’s jaw tightened, her hands gripping the handle of the shovel she was using to reinforce a trench along the wall. She didn’t look up, keeping her eyes fixed downward as she drove the blade into the dirt with more force than necessary. “If you’re just going to stand there, Nes'ver, then stay quiet,” she muttered, her voice low, edged with a mixture of lingering frustration and simmering embarrassment.

“Come now, Elantrie,” he replied smoothly, flashing her a look of exaggerated innocence. “I’m only here to make sure the job’s getting done properly. Someone has to keep an eye on you two after that little... spectacle last night.” His words hung heavy with mock concern.

Laphisto’s expression remained impassive, though his gaze flicked briefly to Elantrie, noting the tension that rippled through her posture. He kept his focus trained on his task, securing metal plates along the outer barricade with methodical precision, each strike of his hammer controlled—though a slight stiffness betrayed the agitation simmering beneath his calm facade.

Elantrie let out a frustrated sigh, finally pausing to look up at Nes'ver, her gaze sharp. “And why aren’t you helping, exactly?” she demanded, her grip on the shovel tightening. “You were right there with us last night. Doesn’t that make you just as guilty?”

Nes'ver chuckled, crossing one leg over the other as he leaned back in a relaxed, almost languid manner. “Oh, I remember clearly. I was there, yes. But I didn’t exactly throw any punches, now, did I?” He smirked, shrugging with exaggerated innocence. “That was all you two.”

Elantrie’s hand clenched around the shovel handle, her knuckles paling as her frustration flared. “Maybe I should just tell Bra’vas you’re standing around doing nothing while we’re doing all the work,” she retorted, her voice rising slightly as her irritation spilled over.

Nes’ver raised an eyebrow, the amusement in his gaze shifting as he responded in a lower, almost menacing tone. “Go ahead and try, Elantrie. But if you do…” He paused, waggling his taloned fingers in a slow, almost hypnotic motion. “I might just drain the moisture from your very eyes.”

His voice dropped to a quiet, sinister murmur that held just enough seriousness to make her hesitate. A chill crept along Elantrie’s spine despite herself, and she shot a sideways glance at Laphisto, as if seeking some sort of confirmation.

“Can he… do that?” she asked, trying to mask her unease with a skeptical tone.

Laphisto gave a noncommittal shrug, his expression unreadable. “He might,” he replied simply, not bothering to look up from his work. He focused on the metal plate he was securing, the rhythmic clinking of his hammer echoing against the wall, grounding the tense atmosphere.

Nes’ver’s gaze remained fixed on Elantrie, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he wiggled his fingers again, daring her to test him. “You really want to risk it?”

Elantrie’s shoulders tensed, and for a moment, she seemed to weigh her options before letting out a quiet huff and turning back to her work, muttering under her breath as she returned to the rhythm of digging.

Nes’ver, clearly satisfied, leaned back once more, his expression smug as he settled into his role as “supervisor.” “That’s what I thought,” he said with a satisfied grin. “Besides, you should be thanking me. I’m keeping an eye on both of you, making sure we don’t have any... incidents.” He shot a pointed look between the two, his smirk deepening.

Elantrie shot him a glare but bit back any further retort, her jaw clenched as she resumed digging, her movements a touch more forceful. Though her earlier frustration had shifted into a begrudging tolerance of Nes’ver’s taunts, the tension from the previous night still simmered between her and Laphisto, unresolved and unspoken, yet lingering in the subtle tension of their movements.

After a few moments, Nes'ver chuckled, casting an amused glance toward Laphisto. “What about you, Div'atori? Feeling any better about the whole situation, or are you still brooding?”

Laphisto’s jaw tightened at the comment, though he kept his focus on the barricade, his tone clipped and measured. “I’m not brooding, Nes'ver,” he replied, his voice steady. “Just working, like we’re supposed to.”

“Right, of course,” Nes’ver responded with a smirk, feigning understanding. “Just doing your duty. Although, I have to say, I was rather impressed by the strength behind some of those punches last night. I suppose all that pent-up tension had to go somewhere.”

Laphisto’s eyes flicked up for a brief second, his gaze sharpening as he glanced at Nes’ver. “Maybe you’d like to step in and join us, Nes'ver, since you seem so invested in observing,” he replied with a slight edge to his tone.

Nes'ver raised his hands in mock surrender, his grin widening. “Oh no, wouldn’t want to overstep my duties. I’ll leave the heavy lifting to the experts.” He winked at Elantrie, who was still watching him with a mixture of exasperation and reluctant amusement.

Elantrie rolled her eyes, though a faint smirk tugged at the corners of her mouth as she continued digging, her frustration shifting further into a begrudging acceptance of Nes’ver’s jests. She cast a sidelong glance at Laphisto, her gaze softening as the edge of irritation began to fade.

Eventually, she couldn’t resist casting another playful jab his way, her voice laced with exaggerated amusement as she leaned on her shovel, catching his gaze. “For someone with an extra five years of training, you’d think you’d be faster at hammering a few plates,” she teased, a spark of humor lighting up her eyes as she tilted her head in challenge.

Laphisto paused, casting her a sidelong look, one eyebrow arching as he caught the familiar glint in her eyes. “And for someone who brags about graduating on time, I’d think you’d know how to dig a proper trench without turning it into a rock garden,” he shot back, his tone dry but with a hint of amusement as he tightened a bolt with slow, deliberate care.

She scoffed, rolling her eyes dramatically. “Please. At least my trench doesn’t look like it was done by a…,” she hesitated, as though searching for the right insult, “a fossilized earthworm. Might as well ask a boulder to do the job,” she added with a wry smile.

Laphisto let out a chuckle, shaking his head as he adjusted the plate with meticulous care. “A fossilized earthworm? Real clever,” he muttered, sarcasm woven into every syllable. “Keep digging, ‘young one.’ Maybe with another hundred years, you’ll master it.”

Elantrie let out a loud scoff, though she couldn’t suppress the grin tugging at her lips. “Oh, so five extra years makes you a ‘master of trenches’ now? Hate to break it to you, but your skills are about as exciting as watching mud dry.”

Their jabs, playful yet edged with lingering tension, seemed to gradually soften the tension between them, each insult growing lighter, their expressions shifting from guarded to genuinely amused. Elantrie, emboldened by the ease that had crept into their conversation, allowed her gaze to drift over his armor, her smirk widening as she zeroed in on his chest, noting the streaks of mud and wear along his plating.

“You know,” she drawled, her eyes flicking over the worn plating along his chest, “with that underbelly of yours, it’s practically camouflaged in mud. Just like… well, droppings,” she added with a mischievous glint, her tone laced with exaggerated disdain.

The insult landed as intended, and Laphisto faltered for a brief moment, momentarily caught off guard by the jab. He glanced down at his armor, then back at her, mouth opening as if to fire back, but his gaze lingered a moment longer than he intended, his eyes taking in the faint bruises that hadn’t quite faded, the subtle dirt smudges along her cheek, and the slightly disheveled look of her scales, still marked by the scuffle from the previous night.

For a fleeting moment, the determination etched into her every feature, the fierce defiance in her stance, caught him off guard. Something about her unwavering expression stirred an unfamiliar pang of admiration, a flicker of appreciation that he hadn’t anticipated.

Elantrie shifted slightly, caught off guard by the intensity of his stare. A faint blush crept along her cheeks, and she turned her gaze away, feeling an unexpected flutter of self-consciousness under his scrutiny. “What?” she muttered, her tone laced with a mix of defensiveness and curiosity. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Laphisto blinked, quickly collecting himself, his usual composure returning as he cleared his throat. “Just… trying to find something about you worth insulting,” he replied, adopting a casual tone to mask the brief lapse in his composure. “But I couldn’t come up with anything.” He shrugged as if it were the most natural observation, completely oblivious to the effect his words had left lingering in the air.

Elantrie blinked, her heart skipping a beat as his words registered, her eyes widening slightly in surprise. “Nothing… worth insulting?” she echoed, her voice softening, almost hesitant as she cast her gaze downward, feeling a strange warmth stirring in her chest. For the first time in their banter, her usual quick retorts faded, leaving her unexpectedly at a loss for words.

Laphisto, completely unaware of the shift in her mood, turned back to his work, tapping the plate with a satisfied nod, seemingly oblivious to the subtle change in their exchange. “Yep,” he affirmed, more to himself than to her. “Nothing stands out.” In his mind, he’d delivered a perfectly clever, if subtle, insult—a quiet way of implying that she was, at least in this moment, entirely unremarkable.

But for Elantrie, his words took on a different meaning, one that lingered as her shovel stilled halfway to the dirt. There was an easy confidence in his tone, a casual warmth that she hadn’t expected, and somehow, his words felt less like a dismissal and more like… acknowledgment. She bit her lip, hiding a small, uncertain smile as the weight of his words settled a little deeper, leaving her heart beating faster than she cared to admit.

Nes'ver, ever the keen observer, took note of the silence with a raised eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he cast a knowing glance in their direction. “What, no comeback, Elantrie?” he asked, his tone laced with mock disbelief. “Did the ‘elder’ actually leave you speechless?”

Elantrie straightened, quickly resuming her digging, though a faint smile lingered on her lips, her expression softening as she glanced at Laphisto, her gaze now tinged with a quiet curiosity. “Speechless? Hardly,” she replied, though her voice had taken on a gentler tone than before. She cast him a quick glance, the earlier fire in her gaze replaced by something softer, more reflective. “I just didn’t expect such… observation from the ancient ‘Div’atori.’”

Laphisto let out a soft chuckle, visibly pleased with himself, the tension around his eyes easing as he met her gaze with a hint of warmth. “Observation? If you mean noticing flaws, that’s easy,” he replied with a faint grin, his tone light, almost playful. “But, like I said, couldn’t find anything this time.” He shrugged, still blissfully unaware of how his words lingered in the air, oblivious to the faint blush that colored her cheeks.

Elantrie bit her lip, focusing on her shovel as she replayed his words in her mind, her heart beating a little faster, and for the first time, she found herself unsure of what to say next.

As the silence settled back over them, Laphisto’s hammering grew slower, more thoughtful, his mind drifting to the sharp words they’d exchanged the previous night. The anger, the frustration—it had all flared up before either of them could catch it, leaving them bruised, both inside and out. The final plate secured, he set down his hammer and glanced over at Elantrie, catching the subtle tension in her posture as she worked, her hands moving mechanically, as if on autopilot.

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

Clearing his throat, he spoke, his voice low and steady. “Elantrie,” he began, drawing her attention with a tone more gentle than his usual bluntness, “about last night…” His gaze softened as it met hers, and for a moment, regret flickered across his expression. “I didn’t mean to push things so far. I…” He paused, struggling for words that felt just out of reach. “I was just… worried.”

Elantrie’s hand paused mid-dig, her eyes widening slightly at his admission. Surprise flashed across her face, quickly followed by something warmer, softer. She met his gaze, her own eyes uncertain, but searching. “I… I get it,” she replied, her voice a fraction quieter, though a faint pink tinged her scales. “I know you were trying to look out for me, Div’atori. But it felt like you didn’t trust me to know my own limits. It stung.”

A wave of relief swept over Laphisto at her words, though a flicker of guilt lingered, knowing he’d questioned her capability in a way that might have hurt more than he’d intended. “I should’ve respected that,” he admitted, nodding slightly, his gaze falling to the ground for a moment. “Maybe I was too heavy-handed. But seeing you push yourself that hard…” He looked back up, his eyes steady, the intensity of his concern evident. “I didn’t want you to end up like… like others who thought they had no limits.”

Elantrie softened at his words, her stance relaxing as understanding settled between them. “Thank you,” she murmured, the surprise evident in her tone, as if she hadn’t expected him to speak with such honesty. “And… I’m sorry too. For what I said.” She swallowed, her gaze lowering as her mind flickered to the cruel words she’d thrown at him. “I didn’t mean it—about you being useless, or… a thrice seveali. It was cruel, and it wasn’t fair.”

Her voice dipped to a near whisper, the words laced with quiet shame. “You’ve been there for all of us, even when you didn’t have to be. I never should’ve made it seem like I didn’t see that.”

Something in Laphisto relaxed as her apology sank in, the weight of her earlier anger fading. He offered her a small, rare smile, the lines of tension around his eyes softening. “We both said things we didn’t mean,” he replied, his tone forgiving. “I’m just glad we can leave it behind.” He gestured toward her shovel with a slight grin. “As long as you don’t bury me in that rock garden you’re building.”

She let out a soft chuckle, the sound freer than before, her earlier fluster replaced by a glimmer of genuine amusement. “Only if you don’t hammer me into one of those plates. I doubt I’d be as structurally sound as whatever it is you’re building.”

Laphisto chuckled along, his expression easing into a comfortable warmth. “I wouldn’t chance it,” he said with a light shake of his head. “Might end up with a pile of scales in the mud—and I already blend in with the ‘droppings,’ apparently.” The memory of her teasing remark brought a faint smirk to his face, though he noted a flicker of something in her gaze—something almost… shy.

Elantrie’s cheeks flushed subtly, but she held his gaze, her voice dropping to a quieter, more tentative tone. “I… I didn’t mean that, either,” she murmured, the hint of a smile playing at her lips. “In fact, if I had to look at anyone’s scales, yours are actually…” She trailed off, her eyes softening as they lingered on him, “they’re not so bad to look at.”

Laphisto blinked, the unexpected compliment catching him off guard, a slight stammer breaking through his usually composed demeanor. He cleared his throat, attempting to steady himself as he searched for a response. “Well… I guess that’s high praise coming from you,” he managed, reaching up to scratch the back of his neck awkwardly. “Maybe I’ll wear it with pride.”

A grin tugged at her mouth, her eyes brightening in response, but before she could speak, Nes'ver, who had been observing the exchange with growing amusement, could no longer contain his laughter.

“So,” Nes'ver interjected, sidling up to the two of them with a broad grin. “Are we all done confessing our deepest apologies and compliments? Because if this keeps going, I might start tearing up. Ah, young dragons finding understanding—it’s a sight to behold,” he said with a dramatic hand over his heart.

Laphisto shot him a sideways glare, his eyes narrowing though the corners of his mouth betrayed a hint of a smile. “And here I thought you were ‘supervising,’ Nes'ver,” he replied dryly. “Or have you already started the celebration?”

Nes’ver laughed heartily, clapping a clawed hand on Laphisto’s shoulder. “Oh, I’m celebrating all right. You two are making it easy.” He flashed a grin at Elantrie, who rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide the amused smile that spread across her face. “Besides, with all this talk of scales and praises, I think you owe me at least a meal for bearing witness. My stomach’s been grumbling louder than you two all morning.”

Elantrie huffed, feigning exasperation but still smiling. “Fine, Nes’ver. Let’s go grab something to eat before the entire battalion hears how patient you were with us.” She shot Laphisto a sidelong glance, a glint of humor in her gaze that hadn’t been there earlier.

The mess hall bustled with the steady rhythm of dragons coming and going, a hum of conversation filling the room as dragons from all ranks gathered to share a meal. The smell of roasted meats and fresh bread mingled with the familiar warmth of camaraderie, easing the tension from the day. As Laphisto, Nes'ver, and Elantrie entered, they were met with a mix of curious glances and half-hidden smirks—word of the previous night's scuffle had clearly spread.

“I think I’ve earned a meal after all that supervising,” Nes'ver announced, looking pointedly at Laphisto and Elantrie with a smirk. His stomach growled loudly, adding emphasis. “In fact, I’d say I deserve extra, given all the heavy lifting I did today.”

Elantrie rolled her eyes, crossing her arms as they approached the food line. “Heavy lifting? Please. All you did was stand there making sure we didn’t add another bruise to our collection,” she replied, her tone light with a hint of amusement.

Nes'ver feigned offense, clutching at his chest. “Hey, keeping the peace between two hot-headed dragons isn’t easy. It’s a burden, really.”

Laphisto gave a low chuckle, grabbing a tray and following the line forward. “Glad to hear we kept you busy, Nes'ver,” he said dryly. “Maybe next time you can actually help, instead of providing moral support.”

They continued trading jabs as they moved down the line, each word easing the weight of the lingering tension from the night before. As they neared the end of the line, Elantrie glanced over at her own element, noticing Hazori seated with Tularn and Ireni. She hesitated briefly, then looked back at Laphisto, her expression shifting from playful to something softer, a hint of appreciation in her gaze.

They continued trading playful jabs as they walked deeper into the mess hall. The teasing helped ease the tension from earlier, and Elantrie’s expression softened when she noticed her own element gathered nearby. Hazori sat with Tularn and Ireni, and the three welcomed her with nods, clearly glad to see her. She hesitated for a moment, glancing back at Laphisto with a flicker of gratitude in her eyes.

“Thanks for… today,” she said, her voice carrying a note of sincerity that surprised even her. “It’s good to know someone’s watching out for me.” She allowed a faint smile, playful yet genuine, to form. “Even if you do have a unique way of showing it.”

Laphisto gave her a reassuring nod, meeting her gaze. “Anytime, Elantrie. Just try not to give me so many reasons to worry next time.”

She huffed, feigning nonchalance, though her eyes sparkled with a familiar warmth. “No promises, Div’atori. Wouldn’t want you to get too comfortable.” She lingered for a second longer before turning to join Hazori, Tularn, and Ireni, glancing back over her shoulder and looking at laphisto a soft hint of something brushing over her face before he hurriedly moved along

Once she settled with her element, Nes'ver nudged Laphisto, a grin spreading across his face. “Not bad, Div’atori. I’d say she’s warming up to you—or at least she’s less likely to knock your teeth out next time.”

Laphisto rolled his eyes, though he couldn’t hide the faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I’ll consider that progress, Nes'ver. Meanwhile, I think we’re due a break from your ‘supervision.’”

“Oh, I think you’ll find my skills invaluable,” Nes'ver replied with a chuckle, following Laphisto to a nearby table where Ray'vera and I’gra were already seated, their expressions a mix of amusement and quiet judgment.

Ray'vera raised an eyebrow, setting down his cup as he observed the two with a faint smirk. “So, how’s the team-building going?” he asked, his gaze sharpening on Laphisto. “After last night, I expected a few bruises might encourage some discipline.”

Laphisto inclined his head respectfully, catching the underlying seriousness in Ray'vera’s tone. “Lesson learned, Ray'vera,” he replied. “And reinforced this morning.”

I’gra chuckled, eyeing them both as she took a sip of her drink. “So, no chance of round two, then?” she teased, leaning back with a sly smile. “I missed the show, but word travels fast.”

Nes'ver leaned in, his tone conspiratorial. “Oh, you missed quite the scene, I’gra. Had to call in reinforcements just to keep these two from tearing the place apart.”

Ray'vera’s smirk faded slightly as he focused on Laphisto, his expression turning serious. “I trust there won’t be a repeat, Div’atori. You know Bra’vas and I don’t take this lightly.”

Laphisto nodded firmly. “Understood, Ray'vera. It won’t happen again.”

Satisfied, Ray'vera gave a small nod, his tone softening slightly. “Good. We’re all here to support each other, even if that sometimes means learning the hard way. Remember, this isn’t just about strength—it’s about judgment. I’d rather see you two handling things together than settling scores.”

Nes'ver raised his cup in mock salute. “To handling things together—and to keeping our teeth intact.”

Laphisto chuckled, appreciating the gesture, even if Nes'ver’s delivery was characteristically casual. “Hear, hear.”

As the tension at the table began to ease, I’gra launched into one of her infamous training stories. “There was this one winter training, knee-deep in snow, and our lead instructor decides it’s the perfect time for agility drills…”

Her story wove humor with subtle lessons, drawing laughter from the group as she described the mishaps and the eventual mud bath she’d taken by the end of it. Even Ray'vera chuckled, masking it with a quick sip from his cup.

After a few rounds of stories, their meal was winding down when Elantrie passed by their table on her way out. She caught Laphisto’s eye, offering him a small, soft smile. The unspoken understanding between them—one of apology, respect made her farewell nod feel more significant. She joined Hazori, Tularn, and Ireni by the door, settling into the ease of her element as she disappeared into the hallway.

s the mess hall emptied further, the table grew quieter, with only the occasional clink of plates or scrape of chairs breaking the calm. Laphisto, Nes’ver, Ray’vera, and I’gra lingered in the fading warmth of shared company, the conversation slipping into memories of the past as the day wound down.

Laphisto’s gaze rested on Nes’ver, tracing the deep scar running along the back of his neck—a jagged line that split his fin and traveled down his spine, the flesh discolored from the brutal wound. It was a reminder of a moment that had shaped their friendship, forged long before they became part of Ray’vera’s element. The scar was a symbol of the dangers they’d survived and the bond that had emerged from it.

He leaned forward, breaking the comfortable silence. “Nes’ver,” he began quietly, his tone softer than usual, “do you ever think about that canyon ambush on the march to Char’ladar?”

Nes’ver glanced at Laphisto, his grin fading into something more thoughtful. His fingers brushed the edge of his split fin as though the memory lingered there. “How could I not?” he replied, his voice low. “It’s hard to forget a moment where you’re convinced it’s the end.”

I’gra, her curiosity piqued, leaned her elbows on the table. “I’ve heard bits and pieces about that, but never the full story. What actually happened out there?”

Ray’vera folded his arms across his chest, his sharp gaze shifting to Laphisto. “That was before you reached Char’ladar, wasn’t it? Before the battalion was formed.”

Laphisto nodded, his eyes distant as he began to recount the memory. “It was on the final stretch of the march through Gildarha. By then, we’d already been traveling for months. I started in Elda’vas, the Earth Dragon capital, and joined the recruitment train there. From there, we went through the Water Dragon continent, the Air Dragon lands, and finally arrived on Gildarha’s southern shores. It wasn’t easy. A lot of recruits left along the way—some gave up, others just disappeared. The march was brutal.”

Nes’ver chuckled softly, though there was tension beneath the sound. “I joined when the train passed through El’mantra, near the Water Dragon capital. I thought I was prepared—turns out, I wasn’t. By the time we hit that canyon, I was already feeling the strain.”

Laphisto’s expression tightened as he continued. “The canyon was supposed to be a shortcut. The leaders didn’t expect any trouble, so they sent us, the newest recruits, ahead to scout. We didn’t realize until it was too late that the pass was an ambush.”

I’gra’s eyes narrowed. “Who was waiting for you?”

“A mix of Tye’ro mercenaries and Dwa’vasi raiders,” Laphisto said grimly. “They’d fortified the high ground, concealed in the rocks and shadows. The moment we entered the canyon, they surrounded us.”

Nes’ver nodded, his fingers trailing along the scar on his neck. “I remember the chaos—the roar of battle, the way they just kept coming. The Tye’ro hit us fast, like predators, while the Dwa’vasi held the choke points with those heavy axes of theirs. It felt like they had us cornered before we could even react.”

Laphisto’s jaw clenched at the memory, his voice steady but taut. “One of them got the jump on Nes’ver. I saw it out of the corner of my eye—a Tye’ro slashing at him from behind. The blow nearly took his head off.”

I’gra’s eyes flicked to the scar with new understanding. “That explains that wound,” she murmured, her tone quieter now.

“I went down hard,” Nes’ver admitted. “Couldn’t move, couldn’t even breathe for a moment. Blood was everywhere. I thought that was it for me.”

Laphisto’s fists clenched unconsciously. “I saw him fall, saw the Tye’ro circling for a finishing strike. I didn’t even think—I just charged in. Took down three of them to pull him out of there. I used every ounce of strength I had to keep them off him long enough to drag him to cover.”

Nes’ver gave a faint, almost shy smile, a rare moment of vulnerability breaking through his usual humor. “You didn’t have to do that, Div’atori. We’d only known each other a few weeks. But you fought like I was your brother.”

Laphisto shrugged, his tone matter-of-fact. “You were my friend. I wasn’t going to let them take you.”

Ray’vera, who had been quietly listening, finally spoke, his tone calm but resolute. “That’s why I picked the two of you.”

Laphisto and Nes’ver turned to him in surprise. “You picked us?” Nes’ver asked.

Ray’vera nodded, his gaze steady. “When we finally reached Char’ladar and they started assigning recruits to elements, I was already designated as an element leader. I watched the two of you during the training drills, the way you fought together after that ambush. It wasn’t just about skill—it was about trust. I knew I needed both of you.”

I’gra tilted her head, a small smirk playing at her lips. “And I’m guessing you hand-picked me too?”

Ray’vera’s smirk mirrored hers. “Of course. You brought the fire we needed to complete the group.”

The table fell into a thoughtful silence, the weight of their shared history settling over them. I’gra finally broke the quiet, a wry smile on her face. “Well, you’ve all got your scars to show for it. And here I thought I had the toughest stories.”

Nes’ver grinned, his usual humor returning. “You still might, I’gra. But none of them end with a scar that’s practically a map, do they?”

The laughter that followed eased the lingering tension, the bonds between them evident in the way they teased and shared their stories. As they rose to leave the mess hall, the chill of the evening air met them outside. Laphisto found himself walking a little closer to Nes’ver, his gaze lingering on the scar for a moment longer. His hand tussling the top of nes’vers head. The brother he never had