Loxzua was flaming strange. It reminded Pelzyq of the girl that held his hand: softer and warmer than the rest of Volqor. More beautiful too. Despite that, and also like his beloved, this place wasn’t weak or wrong. If anything, it was the opposite. The people here thrived compared to those in the homesteads and could focus on more than survival. They made magnificent sculptures and crafted things that made life fuller. Loxzua was a wonderland straight from a dream.

Pelzyq wished he could’ve had a childhood like Lexyn or Zyryxa’s, living in a place where monsters like Pavinax were kept in check by knights like Zyrthalla. Clinging tighter to Lexyn’s hand, he vowed to give their children that future. Unless she wizened up and got rid of him, he’d do his best for her and those little hatchlings. May he prove himself to be nothing like his own father. May he simply be good enough.

The clinic door was fashioned not from gelubor, but from some weird brown wood Pelzyq didn’t know the name of. He fought his fears, his hand in Lexyn’s, but they weren’t defeated. He feared Lexyn’s parents more than he did two dragons. Pelzyq craved their approval so badly it chewed his stomach worse than Ozyeeq firebomb. Too many memories warned him that he’d never be good enough for another man’s daughter. Qoryxa’s flaming eyes! The thought of his only other time in Loxzua was a bitter taste in his mouth that wouldn’t go away: dragged to the dragon knight by a father who’d throw his own daughter away for consorting with him. Halette and Lexyq would think him unworthy. He just knew it as certain as he knew he would always be a piece of shit fallen out of the biggest asshole in Volqor.

Lexyn took a deep breath, then opened the door. A wave of heat rushed out at Pelzyq, stinging his eyes. Several hearths blazed, pushing out more heat than Pelzyq could remember feeling in his life. The heat didn’t help his nausea or his nerves. Neither did the crowd. The main chamber was large, with seating for patients, but right now the open area was filled with men and women beyond their warrior years. Two dozen folk with blue hair, blue eyes, and the icy pale skin of Southern Volqor listened to the only one that didn’t look like them.

Halette of Meridian was unmistakable with hair dark as a shrouded night sky, a slight, slender frame draped by a blue and red robe with a blue flame on the back, and skin so tan it looked like she spent every day in the Ozyeeq sun instead of this oven in Loxzua. Despite being the shortest person in the room by at least a full hand’s length, she spoke like she was the largest. These old Volqori, seasoned into their thirties, forties, and even fifties listened to her like kids sitting around a fire as the eldest person in the homestead shared a story.

“Once Vaztyma deploys you, you’re often not going to find your freezing patients in a heated clinic,” the Leverian woman said. “How will you keep them safe from the terrors of the cold then?”

Halette awaited a response from her audience, but it squeaked out of a soft voice behind her. “By always keeping a supply of calidex and pasque flowers on hand,” Lexyn said nervously. “W-w-wraps made from t-t-the flowers generate heat and the f-f-flowers are ubiquitous around g-g-gelubor.”

Pelzyq remembered waking in a bed of flowers that made him have strange dreams, dreams where he’d gone back in time and lived as his younger self. He’d awoken and thought Lexyn was Dalcyx before his mind oriented itself.

Halette gasped. “Lexyn!” She shrieked, the tears in her eyes not from the stinging heat. Nearly every other person in the room flinched, Pelzyq among them.

The little woman with a big presence tossed her arms around Lexyn. “My daughter!”

“H-H-Halette,” Lexyn stammered. She looked horrified, her arms at her side and her eyes wide.

Pelzyq nodded at her. “Hug her,” he mouthed, knowing he’d give anything to hug his mother one more time.

“Halette?” the Leverian woman said, wounded. “We don’t have to follow those divinedamned rules. You. Are. My. Daughter.”

The formidable woman broke the embrace to glare across the room, daring anyone to challenge her. At once, their eyes fell to their feet, reminding Pelzyq of how Lexyn had approached every conversation at the start. This woman might as well have been dragon champion in these walls.

Of the other older Volqori in the big room, one stepped forward. “It is good to see you again, warrior.”

Pelzyq wasn’t one to survey and evaluate the male form, but Lexyq was one of those guys that you didn’t need to have a keen eye to know he was a good-looking fellow. Tall, muscular, chiseled face, and eyes and hair of cobalt it was no wonder he’d charmed the lovely Leverian woman. Though Pelzyq couldn’t remember his mother’s face, it was clear that Lexyn came from better stock than he. He made himself small, braced for their rejection.

“Good to see you,” Lexyn answered, stammering as her eyes darted over the other Volqori in the clinic.

Lexyq quickly attuned to his daughter’s needs. “Take the rest of the day, novices. Scout the gelubor beyond the outer district for calidex and pasque.” The handsome warrior went on to explain how to locate the flowers, the words lost to Pelzyq as his mind turned inward, freezing on some of the worst moments he’d spent with parents of past lovers. At least this time he’d be rejected with a smaller audience.

The clinic swiftly emptied of strangers, leaving Lexyn and her parents. Pelzyq looked longingly after the door after it closed. He did his best to stand strong, hoping they didn’t see his knees shaking like a boy standing before his father’s beating stick after letting in the cold.

Halette ignored Pelzyq as she brushed her daughter’s hair and whispered words Pelzyq chose not to overhear. His eyes met Lexyq’s. He braced for a shove, but the man offered his hand. Looking at it hanging in the air far longer than appropriate, Pelzyq finally took it. The man’s grip was powerful, but he didn’t try to crunch Pelzyq’s fingers like Pavinax would’ve. Pelzyq did his best to match his strength, but expected he was the weaker warrior and that the man held back.

“I’m Lexyq, medican and co-owner of this clinic.”

“Pelzyq, dragon warrior and broodmate to Lexyn.”

Lexyq smiled at him. The man was so charming Pelzyq almost felt his tension ease. “Glad to have you here, Pelzyq.”

Pelzyq refused to cry, but he couldn’t stop himself from smiling back. “Glad to be here, Lexyq.” He didn’t know what else to say. So instead of saying something characteristically rude or stupid, he sealed his troublesome lips shut and hoped that Lexyn could save him yet again.

Lexyq broke off the handshake. “Already found yourself a brood, Lexyn?”

Blushing, she nodded. “Yes. I’ve f-f-found a new f-f-family. We’re on the R-r-rite of the Dragon Knight.”

Lexyq cocked his head, cautiously awaiting his wife’s reaction. Halette sighed, set her hands on her hips, and barreled into her daughter. “Why would Vaztyma send a newly branded warrior on the deadliest set of trials in this frozen hellscape?”

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“It is … unexpected,” Lexyq said, clearly in disbelief that his daughter would be chosen for one of the highest honors in Volqor.

“It is ridiculous,” Halette said. She glared at Pelzyq. He did everything he could to make himself small. “Don’t you dare drag my daughter to some stupid death fighting one of those ice witches in Nix Tezyk.”

Pelzyq froze, his mouth falling open but nothing coming out. He shivered, terrified of this little woman. There was nothing he could do to convince her he was good enough. He knew it. She despised him because she knew the truth he tried to deny; he would get her daughter killed. It was inevitable.

“Pelzyq cares about me, mom,” Lexyn said, locking her arm with his, intertwining their fingers. “He’s already saved me during battle with the Fire Tribe.”

“And you’re fighting in the war?” Halette shook her head. “It’s only a matter of time before this place takes you too.” She glared at her husband. “Every day we linger here we put our children at risk. We already failed Hyzqar. It’s not too late for Lexyn and Darriq. We need to go. Now.” She took her daughter’s other hand. “And you’re coming with us.”

Lexyn looked to her father for support.

“That is a choice we can make for Darriq,” Lexyq said, his voice steady. “Champion Vaztyma is—”

“I’m not letting Vaztyma decide for my daughter,” Halette said. “I’m taking her away from here.”

Well, at least Lexyn wasn’t being thrown away, Pelzyq mused, though this was just a different type of rejection. He’d spent enough of his own time being told he couldn’t decide for himself, that he had to do whatever Pavinax wanted. He supposed this wasn’t as bad, considering Halette’s domineering behavior was a symptom of love rather than whatever in Zamael’s Hells drove Pavinax. Still, that didn’t make this okay. Anxiety and anger battled within his gut, anger emerging from the swell.

“Lexyn can make her own choices,” Pelzyq said.

Both the Volqori father and the Leverian mother turned on him. Halette opened her mouth, only to bite down on her lip.

“You’ve prepared her well,” he said, hoping to build a bridge rather than burn down any hope for a connection with them. “She has saved me and our broodsisters many times with her knowledge, her aim, and her loving heart. If she wants to go with you,” he swallowed. He would not cry. “I will bless her choice.” Pelzyq wanted to stop there, wanted to give her the strength to run from this life, to flee from him, but he wouldn’t take her choice away. “If she wants to stay with us, I promise she will not fall while Pelzyq stands.”

Lexyq nodded, trying not to cry himself. Halette, however, held her furious glare on him. Arms folded over her bosom, she wouldn’t relent. It was happening again. “What happens if you die? You can’t protect Lexyn from everything.”

“Neither can you,” Lexyn said, clinging to both of them.

Halette looked like she’d been slapped, then she sighed and her hand fell limp at her side.

“I love you, mom,” Lexyn said. “And I love Pelzyq.” Her dark blue eyes met his. He wouldn’t cry in front of these people. It was getting harder by the moment with that beautiful girl looking at him like he was not only good enough, but her hero.

“I’m in Loxzua to make warming tonics before my family travels into the everlasting blizzard,” she said, “but I hope that I still have a family here in Loxzua.”

“Of course you do,” Halette said, her stern voice cracking. “You’re my daughter. I love you, Lexy.”

“Our home is always yours,” Lexyq said. “Qoryxa knows we could use your skills. Vaztyma has us training volunteer field medicans and they all remind me of how much I miss you.” He laughed, his eyes growing wet.

Pelzyq knew their love of Lexyn should’ve made him happy. Instead, he felt sorrow pulling him down again like on so few days since Lexyn came into his life. In theory, loving parents were a good thing. In practice, seeing them just made him long for the life he didn’t get to have. But he wouldn’t cry. Not here. Not now. Not in front of these people who needed to believe he was good enough to take care of their beloved daughter. He couldn’t let them see him with a single fracture to fuss over.

He forced out the words, hoping they’d help with the pain. “It is no wonder Lexyn is the beautiful soul she is, seeing how much you both love her.”

“Lex always made it easy,” Lexyq said. Pelzyq nodded, agreeing with that. He had tried not to care about her. Look how that turned out!

“She did,” Halette agreed, shining with adoration of her daughter. “I’m proud of you, girl. Answer one question first, and then we can make those tonics.”

Lexyq finished it for her. “How did you get placed on the Rite of the Dragon Knight?”

“We joined the brood of Warrior Natazia,” Lexyn said. “After her brood died fighting Fire Tribe raiders and we rescued her, Vaztyma gave us her blessing.”

“Also,” Pelzyq said, “our fourth broodmate is the Ice Princess herself: Zyryxa.”

Both the medicans nodded at that. “That explains it,” Halette said. “That little war machine used to be one of the primary sources of our patients. Now, half of our work these days seems to be patching up the kids that Zyrxine roughs up.” She shook her head. “Vaztyma wastes no time replacing Zyrthalla.”

“She cannot afford to waste time right now,” Lexyq said. “War forces everything to move faster. We should know that as well as anyone with how quickly Vaztyma wants us to train her medicans.”

“Enough talk of war,” Halette said. “Let’s go brew, Lexy.”

Lexyn winked at Pelzyq, letting their hands separate before following her mother to another room.

“Well,” Lexyq said, “I’ve got no patients right now and my novices are off picking flowers.” He grinned. “What say you to sharing a brew of our own?”

Pelzyq nodded, still afraid to ruin things with his divinedamned mouth.

Lexyq clapped his shoulder hard, Pelzyq wincing from old pains. He was so accustomed to constant pain in his burning shoulder that it was just a part of living.

The medican cocked his head. “Shoulder pains?”

Pelzyq nodded. “Old wounds.”

The man studied Pelzyq’s nose, another old wound that never healed right. “You’ve had a rough go of life, son. Let me take a look at that for you.”

Pelzyq tried not to cry, but hearing a man call him son for the first time without spite finally broke him. Head down, he tried to hide the weakness. Tears were cause for embarrassment, even if the one that beat him for every tear wasn’t here. He expected Lexyq to point it out, to condemn him as being too soft to care for his daughter.

Lexyq guided him to a room with a flat table covered in leather with metal instruments arranged on other shelves. Pelzyq tried to master himself, but found the little boy in him couldn’t bring the crying to a stop now that it started. Pelzyq flinched as Lexyq spoke.

“Knight Zyrthalla often came here to visit patients that served in her swarm. These warriors suffered lifechanging injuries: limbs that would never work again, blindness, whatever malady you could imagine a warrior can acquire living in Volqor. Usually they cried when she came because they knew their days of serving her were over. So many proud warriors have wept on this table where they learned their life would never be the same, grasping for lost purpose.”

He helped Pelzyq sit on the table. “Do you know what she said to them when she found them weeping?”

Pelzyq shook his head, still hiding his eyes. Knowing Zyryxa, Zyrthalla probably called them soft and told them to be as unyielding as ice.

“To feel is not weakness, my son,” Lexyq said. “To feel is to be reminded of what matters.” Lexyq manipulated Pelzyq’s shoulder prodding for reactions. He got many, but not just for the shoulder. “I care about you, Pelzyq, not because my daughter is sweet on you, or because you try to hide your pain. I care because you feel. Now, let me deal with this scar tissue so your old wounds don’t hold you back from fighting for what matters to you.”

Pelzyq wept on that fucking table. Not because shoulder surgery hurt like three divinedamned punches to the cock. He cried because he was strong and knew what mattered. He grasped for renewed purpose as function was restored to him. Just because one man had always treated him like a piece of shit, didn’t mean he was a piece of shit. If a better father could care about him, could work to heal him, he could do his best to be a better man. Not just for Lexyq either, or even to prove he deserved Lexyn. He’d be a better man because that was his choice, and he was done letting Pavinax control him.