“*…Snore...! Snore…!*”

“…”

The bedroom was almost pitch-black. Only a line of moonlight was breaking through the curtains that hung over the main bed. The plethora of posters and images plastered on the walls and ceiling were mere silhouettes, the models consumed by the overwhelming darkness entirely. The surrounding atmosphere was quiet and tranquil, giving the impression that the entire world was sound asleep.

“*...S-snort...!*”

At least, that would be the case without the ungodly snoring. On the floor close beside the bed was an unconscious Tobi, mouth hanging open and body half out of the crumpled bedsheets as he snored away. With both Zaron and Tobi roommates – Veena opting to stay in the separate spare bedroom – the two spent hours into the night chatting and laughing away. After the brief cast of doom upon hearing Zaron’s plan, Tobi was engaged entirely on hearing Zaron’s numerous stories of Dragora’s culture. He was asking numerous questions, yet also open to Zaron’s own questions of Humesa. The two continued to chat far into the night, losing track of time in the process. Eventually, Lucas had to step in and intervene with the conversation, reminding the two that it was already three o’clock in the morning – forcing the two to turn in for the remaining night.

Regarding the choice between the bed and the floor, Zaron had refused to use the bed adamantly – believing it was immoral to steal the bed from its original owner. However, both Lucas and Tobi were insistent for him to use the bed, citing his injures had not fully recovered. The young bitter Draiken yielded to their insistence eventually, hoping his injuries would heal soon so that he could return the bed to Tobi.

And so, lying on the bed with wings and limbs splayed out, Zaron was gazing at the ceiling above in a blank stare. Considering he was on the verge of losing consciousness since he found himself in Humesa, he felt restless. He tossed and turned, finding an ideal comfortable position to fall asleep on. And yet, no matter how hard he tried to drift off, he was left wide awake. His mind was running rampant with unanswered questions and imagined scenarios, unable to ignore the potential aftermath of the battle against Mantis. His mother was on his mind constantly, flip-flopping between on optimism and dread upon the possibility of her survival. Additionally, he wondered about the fate of his father and Denzo, questioning where they were during the assault and if they were safe.

He tossed over once more in one final attempt, yet failed to drift off into slumber. He was oblivious of the time, wondering how long it would be until sunrise.

Click!

...Creak.

Just then, Zaron heard an odd noise beyond the bedroom door. The young Draiken rose from the bed curiously, watching the door as he wondered on the source of the noise. From what he could hear, the noise originated from Veena’s room.

Tap tap tap tap...!

Zaron watched silently as the footsteps shifted from the spare room, to across the other side of the door and down the stairway. With the possibility of sleep out of the question, Zaron decided to check on Veena – assuming she was the source of the small footsteps. His mind set, Zaron shuffled out from the bedsheets swiftly, ensuring not to stand on Tobi in the process of exiting the room. He tiptoed over the unconscious Cobalt, treading over to the door in silence.

Creak ... creak ... creak...!

Aside from a few creaks and squeaks, the relieved Zaron was thankfully able to exit the room without waking his roommate. Closing the bedroom door behind him gradually, he stepped down the staircase with the lightest of footsteps. He was conscious of his steps, both feeling his way through the pitch-black section of the house and ensuring not to cause a racket during his descent. Upon reaching the floor of the stairway, he noticed the nearby lounge door was left open. Zaron halted before the door in cautious silence, gazing through the thin open gap as he waited for the ideal time to enter the room – there was no movement whatsoever.

After a moment of consideration, the young Draiken pressed forward, opening the door carefully and passing through into the darkened lounge room. He adjusted to the change in light as she stepped in, catching spots of moonlight illuminating sections of the room. At first, Zaron found the room silent and motionless, causing him to wonder whether Veena even entered the lounge in the first place. However, after switching to the main couch, he found her huddled into a ball. Deciding not to speak a word, Zaron stepped over and perched himself beside the reserved Veena, gazing off towards the opposite wall to them. The two sat in silence for a while, adjusting to the surrounding ambiance.

“*...Sniff...!*”

Beside him, Veena cuffed her eyes with her sleeves, hugging her knees to hide her overwhelmed emotions. A small sigh escaped Zaron’s breath, peering over as he decided to break through silence.

“...Homesick?”

Veena let off a heavy shrug, holding her silence with an iron will. From how the response was presented, Zaron assumed his guess was correct. He took it as a hint, reflecting to the conflict they faced in Dragora – he soon found his answer.

“It’s Mantis, isn’t it…?”

Veena responded with a single, hesitant nod. Zaron’s heart sank.

(Thought so...)

Continuing to sit in silence, Zaron considered his next words cautiously. The fated conflict re-emerged in his mind, sending him into a spiral of anger and frustration. He felt as though he failed Veena, furious at himself for preventing her sustained injuries throughout the entire conflict against the assassin. He wished he could lock out the trauma of the situation for eternity.

“I’m a failure … I shouldn’t’ve let my guard down.” Veena murmured in a low, rough tone, breaking her longstanding silence. “When she kicked you, I hesitated. I tried to react, but before I knew it … I was being dragged across the floor with barely any life left in me.”

Zaron tensed up on his seat, the horrid scene fresh in his mind.

“It wasn’t your fault.” He assured her openly. “If anything, you were amazing holding your own against her. Don’t forget, I was the one who decided to approach Mantis when she was down – even after you warned me. I was reckless, so the screw up was on me.”

Veena shook her head vigorously, “No ... I was sloppy.”

“Sloppy…?” Zaron echoed underneath his breath, unable to hide his confusion. “Veena, we were fighting against an assassin. It wasn’t like we were in the…!”

His voice trailed off, eyes widening as he came to a sudden realisation. Noticing him fall silent, Veena flashed a curious glance underneath the endless locks of her crimson-red hair.

“…The Battle-Sim.” Zaron then breathed out, remembering their exhaustive training prior to the fated conflict. “That’s right...! We were exhausted after the Battle-Sim.”

Continuing to gaze at him, Veena lifted her head from her knees.

“Veena, don’t sell yourself short.” Zaron admitted as he met eyes with her. “If it wasn’t for the Battle-Sim, we would’ve-!”

“…We would’ve stood a better chance against Mantis.” Veena finished for him, realising how extensive their Battle-Sim sessions were at the time.

However, Zaron proceeded to correct her, shaking his head in decline as he expressed a comforting smile to her.

“We would’ve beaten her.”

Veena broke into a smile upon hearing his confident words, her spirits lifted in amusement of Zaron's outlandish yet genuine declaration.

“Heh-heh…! Those are some big words coming from you.” She giggled at him playfully.

“What else can I say…?” Zaron then shrugged in wistful response, leaning back on his seat as he gazed up to the patterned ceiling above. “We had a lot of setbacks going into that fight, but ... you shouldn’t excuse that as being weak. The situation was unpredictable, so the fact that we survived was an achievement on its own.”

Her gaze fixated on him, Veena’s brief smile morphed to sincerity.

“We’re not perfect ... but we’re certainly no amateurs. I mean, just imagine if we faced her at peak performance.” Zaron continued breathlessly, placing his heart and soul in his words. “If we ever face off against her again, mark my words … you alone would leave her cowering in her boots.”

Rustle...!

Just then, Zaron felt a cushioned weight press against his right shoulder unexpectedly. He glanced over with a surprised gaze, realising Veena had her body against him with her head rested on his shoulder. From his position, he was unable to see her expression whatsoever, causing him to wonder how she felt underneath the blanket of scarlet hair. However, with her calmed breaths and relaxed posture, he was satisfied to see her at ease once again. Zaron gazed ahead to the open space of the lounge, believing there was no need to utter another word. He sat in silence, basking in the tranquillity.

During that time, he heard Veena whisper the words that would embed into Zaron’s mind to the remainder of the night: “Thank you.”

***

A light overcast covered the sky, the sun breaking through in brief intervals wherever possible. Winds were set at a light breeze, noticeable yet undeniably refreshing. Birds of diverse types fluttered across the sky without a care in the world, chirping and twittering away as they continued with their business. It was a normal peaceful day in Humesa.

Swing … Whack! Swoop! CLASH!!!

Within the confines of the high-fenced backyard situated behind the Cobalt Household, Zaron and Veena were on the assault – against each other.

Whoosh! Swing! Whack-whack-whack! Bang!

Both Draiken were wielding a pair of wooden training-katana – Zaron holding his in his right hand, whilst Veena held hers in her left. Their eyes were focused entirely on the other, their minds extinguishing any potential distraction in the process. To them, the backyard was a battle-arena.

Whoosh-whoosh…! Bang! Swing...!

With ever strike, there was a parry. With every evade, there was a counterattack. And with every second passed, neither combatant showed any form of hesitation.

Swipe!

Finally, after a flurry of successive strikes and clashes, Zaron and Veena lunged ahead at full force. The two katana were aimed at the opposing necks, open to land the definitive blow on their respective targets.

Whoosh...! Fwip!

In that moment, both blades froze inches before they connected. Zaron and Veena had reached a stalemate. The two breathed out heavily, proving they were not holding back in their assault. And yet, both Draiken were also unscathed, no evident signs of directed injuries on their bodies whatsoever. The two then relaxed their stances, returning to the default standing position with gleaming grins on their faces.

Clap-clap-clap-clap-clap!!!

Hearing the abrupt applause from the distance, Zaron and Veena switched in sync. Sitting at a safe distance, Tobi watched the fight with intense anticipation and glee. He was in complete awe, fidgeting and flinching upon witnessing each blow. After watching such a performance, nothing could break his awestruck smile.

“That. Was. SO COOL!!!” He exclaimed at the top of his lungs excitedly, rising to his feet in a rush. “I can’t believe that ended in a tie!”

“That’s kind of the point.” Zaron chuckled in light response, acting as though the sparring match was simply child’s play to him.

“H-hold on … what do you mean?” Tobi then stuttered, taken aback by the odd statement.

“Back in Dragora, we have a tradition where fighting partners spar regularly.” Veena elaborated cheerfully, showing no signs of fatigue in her speech. “We do this to keep ourselves up to date with the other’s ability. If our spar sessions reach a consistent tie without any slip ups, then we’re classed under ‘Perfect Sync’.”

The two Draiken stepped over to Tobi, their training weapons swaying and wings bobbing as they approached. The yard was a small box overall in shape, further restricted by the bordering bushes, trees and shrubbery. Additionally, on the right corner furthest from the house was a shed, packed with the essential gardening tools needed to maintain the area. However, there were notable benefits to the yard. Primarily, the bordering fencing was high enough to conceal any events occurring within its borders, allowing Zaron and Veena's the freedom to spread their wings without compromising their identities. Additionally, there was enough room in the yard to spar and train, allowing the two practice their technique without tearing up the Cobalt house. Although they were still restricted, the overall area was ideal for temporary purposes – at least, until they find a way to walk into the bulk of Humesa without risk of notoriety.

“Our combat tutor used to always tell us: ‘You are your partner; your partner is you. If one trips up, the other does too.’” Zaron then recollected, reflecting in Master Chrom’s early teachings.

“Let’s be honest, his motivational quotes were usually super corny.” Veena added cheekily. “I bet he has a book of clichéd lines underneath his desk.”

Zaron shrugged in response, “I wouldn’t be surprised.”

As the two Draiken muttered amongst one another, Tobi watched on with a blank stare. Although he followed the conversation fine, there was an odd sense of him feeling like the third wheel in the trio. He grew intrigued on their relationship, wondering how far the rabbit-hole descended.

“I bet you two were glad I found those stashed at the back of the attic.” A proud voice called out to them abruptly, interrupting their conversation.

The three directed their attention as they noticed Lucas approaching them in a confident stride.

“Those katana may not seem like much, but they’re more priceless to me than any weapon I’ve laid eyes on over the years.” He informed then haughtily, beaming from ear-to-ear. “They’ll at least be a viable alternative to your usual weapons.”

“I’ll be honest, Lucas…” Zaron murmured in half-hearted response, juggling the wooden katana in his hand. “It’s not as balanced as Artoria.”

“It’s also not as fast as Kurama.” Veena added in agreement, swinging her wooden katana freely as she spoke. “It feels too flimsy and fragile.”

Tobi pursed his lips as he heard the criticisms, holding back the desperate need to laugh. On the other hand, Lucas’ gleaming smile dampened instantly. His gaze lowered as he was struck with the criticism with full force, acting as though his hopes and dreams were shattered. Before another word could be uttered, he turned and stormed off back towards the house.

“Hmph! You young people and your lack of appreciation...” He grumbled as he approached the back door, his body hunched over and feet stomping across the grass.

“We were only kidding, Lucas!” Veena called out amusingly, feeling guilty for teasing him.

“We’re grateful for the katana!” Zaron added amongst the snickering, expressing their genuine gratitude.

In the distance, Lucas was seen waving off their gratitude begrudgingly, letting out one last inaudible grumble before disappearing into the house.

“He … he does know we’re joking, right?” Zaron then asked Tobi awkwardly, wondering if they took it too far.

Tobi laughed off the concern.

“Yeah, of course! He’s just playing along, that’s all.”

Zaron and Veena stared at Tobi with uncertainty, unsure whether they should take his words at face-value.

“…I’ll go check, just to make sure.” Tobi then murmured with a twitchy grin, unable to hide the slight cast of doubt.

The two Draiken nodded in silent agreement. Taking Lucas’ earlier words into account, Zaron glanced down to the training katana in his hand. Weighing the wooden blade, he felt conflicted by the situation – even though he found the reasoning justifiable. There were two aspects to their ultimatum:

The first aspect was Artoria and Kurama notoriety throughout the far reaches of Humesa. If either weapon were sighted on Humesa’s soil, the entire nation would enter lockdown within a matter of seconds. The risks were already to an extreme, so any possibility of bearing the weapons was immediately expelled.

The second – and in Zaron's mind, most ludicrous – was the heavy legislations against any form of weaponry. After a precious discussion with Lucas, he was informed that Humesa had placed crippling laws on weapons purposed for battle – especially bladed weapons – during the aftermath of the war. Specifically, heavy fines and potential prosecution would be set on any individual found in procession of classed weaponry. However, weapons that were used for recreational use – such as archery and fencing – were exempt from laws, albeit placed under significant governmental regulations and limited authority.

The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

The more Zaron thought about Humesa’s weapon laws in comparison to Dragora’s own regulations, the more the entire fiasco irritated him.

“You’re spacing out, mate.” Tobi noted as he tapped Zaron’s shoulder, breaking him out of his brief trance. “What’s bothering you?”

“Oh, it’s ... it’s nothing much, really.” Zaron chuckled back as switched to the young Cobalt, noticing a curious Veena at the corner of his eye in the process. “Dragora‘s weapon regulations are very different to Humesa’s laws. If we hold a valid license and keep them sheaved when in public, we’re allowed to own weapons from the age of fourteen.”

Tobi froze up in abrupt bewilderment.

“A-are … are you serious…?”

“Yep. We Draiken are very particular about our combat prowess.” Veena enlightened him with an upbeat grin, expressing genuine pride in the subject. “We spend years training and mastering our technique with a blade. It’s common practise to carry your weapon in public – for self-defence purpose, of course.”

Tobi was unconvinced by the description.

“What about crime-rates? That’s got to be an-!”

“-All-time low.” Zaron chipped in swiftly before he could finish. “The majority of Draiken over the age of fourteen are trained extensively to handle a weapon. If someone were to act irrationally, it usually ends up with that person on the floor soaked in their own pool of blood. It’s one of the reasons why many underground groups stay ‘underground’ over in Dragora – the last thing they want is to turn Dragora’s streets into public warfare.”

For a moment, Tobi stood staring at the two Draiken, unable to utter a word as the information processed in his mind. Zaron and Veena imagined the complex clockwork turning through his mind, ticking away until the-

Ding!

“Dad! I’ve decided I want to live in Dragora!” Tobi called out suddenly as he swivelled to face the house.

“HAH! Not a chance! You’ll be sliced up within the week!” Lucas chortled back immediately, poking his head out the back door as he yelled.

Tobi then switched back to the two Draiken with a disappointed shrug.

“It was worth a shot.”

Zaron and Veena both rolled their eyes amusedly. The three continued to chat, unaware that another pair of eyes was observing them cautiously from the nearest window of the house.

***

“So, Humesa’s capital is ... here, right?”

Veena pointed to the large, mapped spreadsheet laid out in front of her. Towering over the opposite side of the sheet, Tobi nodded proudly.

“Yep, that’s the one! The City of Aeris.”

Standing idly beside Veena, Zaron placed his finger next to her own and proceeded to slide it down the sheet.

“So, if we’re forty miles south of Aeris, I’m assuming we're ... here: Ferradon.”

“You got it.” Tobi then answered enthusiastically, acting as though he was hosting a gameshow.

The three were standing in the lounge of the Cobalt house, peering down on the enormous map of Xaphire. They had sectioned off the map purposely to only show Humesa's half of Xaphire – due to the sheer size of the sheet consuming the entire table. Even with the spreadsheet halved, the map struggled to fit the diameters of the table surface. Thankfully, with the use of a few pegs and makeshift paperweights, the map was eventually secured. Humesa was situated on the west section of the Xaphire map: displayed as a large, curving island with a rounded north-section and an oddly sporadic tail that carved off to the lower south-east. To add to the fiery design, three, jagged smaller islands broke off from various sections of Humesa’s tail: one separated off to the far west – Signis; another broke towards the east coast – Nyral; and finally, the last following the southern-most section of the main Humesa island – Pharia. Overall, it had a similar shape to a soaring meteorite, breaking abruptly from its set course.

Veena then lifted her finger off the map, deep in thought as an aspect of the map caught her attention.

“Is it me, or is Aeris larger than Dragora’s capital?” She questioned in an intrigued tone.

Aeris was situated at the centre of Humesa's main island – notably dubbed by locals as ‘The Heart’ of Humesa. Aeris was illustrated on the map as a large, grey grid, expanding and consuming every section of green in its vicinity. Various landmarks were highlighted by name, including Cyclone Tower, Rost Castle, Grand Central Plaza, and many others. It was also the home to Humesa's High Council – who overlook the direction of the nation's growth and security – and current ruler: Queen Sera. With both Draiken homebound and hidden from the world, any idea of touring Humesa's capital was immediately out of the question – no matter how enticing the attractions were.

Thwip!

“Right then, my turn.” Tobi announced with an anticipated grin, switching the map over to reveal Dragora. “Watch and be amazed as I prove my skill in orientation. I’ll start with the capital...”

Dragora was situated on the eastern half of Xaphire’s map, a large band of ocean separating it from Humesa known as the ‘Lorillion Sea’. One odd aspect to Dragéra was its uncanny resemblance to its neighbouring continent, giving off the impression that the two islands were siblings. Just like Humesa, Dragora curved into a circular motion, albeit with its head situated on the south end of the map as opposed to Humesa's north. The continent itself was also broader in scale, dwarfing Humesa in overall bulk and vast terrain. Additionally, it had two notable islands instead of Humesa's three, although one was classed as a cluster of islands banded under one name. The cluster of islands – known locally as the ‘Fenrir islands’ – were situated conveniently at the tail end of Dragora, acting as though they were breaking off and dissipating into the nothingness. The other, singular, and larger island – named as ‘Ulteria' on the map – broke away from western incurve of the main island, giving the impression that it was rebelling from its master.

As they watched Tobi continue to scan the map thoroughly, Zaron and Veena were both grinning in amusement. There was a catch to the location of Dragora’s capital.

“...I don't see it.” Tobi then murmured in disarray, glaring back at the two Draiken. “Am I being screwed over?”

“Yep.” Veena snickered bluntly.

"Yeah, pretty much.” Zaron nodded nonchalantly.

“...You two suck.” Tobi murmured with a dampened pout. “Fine then. What’s the catch?”

“There's a reason why Dragora's capital isn’t on the map.” Zaron then confessed with a smug grin, “You see, Dragora is a little different.”

“How so?” Tobi questioned him.

After brief hesitation, Zaron proceeded, “The Capital City – or the ‘Three’ Capital Cities technically ... are up in the clouds.”

Tobi stood staring at Zaron with a blank expression, feeling as though the Draiken was toying with him. Deciding to elaborate, Zaron followed on to explain Dragora's ‘Floating Cities’. Veena also decided to contribute where she could, adding in any extra details that Zaron neglected to mention. As Zaron had mentioned previously, Dragora was home to a trio of major floating cities deemed eligible to hold the title of ‘Nation's Capital’. Set high above the clouds, these three cities were difficult to spot from ground level – even during a cloudless day. However, it is possible to spot the cities gradually soaring overhead, its borders reflecting in the broad daylight like the moon in the clear day sky. Due to the unique democracy set by Dragora's laws, the ownership of ‘Capital’ would change every thirteen years in accordance with the elected ‘Emperor/Empress’ and their democratic party. The thirteen-year changeover were held under public vote, where the final majority would determine a new leader and Capital City or reinstate the existing party for and additional thirteen years.

The first and largest of the three cities was Eldenor – last to be crowned as Capital City thirty-two years ago. Due to its sheer size, many to this day mistake it to be the current owner of the title. In comparison to Aeris, it was three-quarters in overall size and was popular choice for commuters and business executives. Skyscrapers and traffic were of plenty, reinforcing the prospect that Eldenor was the ‘City that never sleeps’.

The second and smallest of the three cities was Mesmira – who previously held the Capital City title forty-five years ago. A third of Aeris in size, it’s overall design and atmosphere was commonly advertised as a ‘resort’ city. With its artificial beaches, the most extreme of outdoor activities, and a vibe of eternal relaxation: Mesmira would forever be described as the ‘City of the Free’.

The final city – and current own the title of ‘Capital’ – was Oraius. As the Capital City for three-terms running, Oraius was known as the most politically charged of the three cities. Additionally, it was deemed the richest city in Dragora, notoriously home to the Owners and CEOs of the nation's most influential corporations. With its unmistakable influence over Dragora’s democracy, there were already discussions of the possibility of a fourth term once it finished its last seven years.

All the talk of ‘politics’ and ‘terms’ sent Tobi into an overwhelming spiral, struggling to consume the gargantuan levels of information. Eventually, Zaron concluded the explanation with a sly comment.

“So, yeah ... it’s quite the complicated system.” He admitted with an awkward chuckle, noticing Tobi’s burnout. “But I can say that the floating cities are breath-taking.”

“Oh, really...?” Tobi wondered after a deep sigh, finally calming his mind. “I assume you two were regular visitors?”

Zaron and Veena glanced to one another with equally awkward expressions.

“We've ... never actually visited them.” Veena admitted anxiously, feeling as though they had disappointed him after the deep explanation. “We see Mesmira’s silhouette pass by regularly back in Sierra Vale, but ... both of us never had access to the city.”

Tobi lowered his eyes briefly, catching a glance of Sierra Vale around the south-eastern area of Dragora.

“Why not?” He then wondered to them, acting completely oblivious.

“In order to access any of the floating cities, we Draiken would need the ability to fly – call it our ‘coming of age’ requirement.” Zaron answered casually, before expressing visible resentment. “Problem is: the Draiken finish developing their wings when we reach sixteen, so it takes a while for us to fully master flight. And we ... haven't exactly reached that point yet.”

Just then, the expressionless Tobi shifted over to Zaron and placed both hands on his shoulders abruptly, causing the young male Draiken to stare at him with a bewildered gaze. The young Cobalt met eye-to-eye with him, his expression turning grave as he asked the devastating question.

“Are you two sure you’re Draiken?!”

There was complete silence in the room. Never had Zaron and Veena felt so insulted in their life. They then proceeded to ignore Tobi for the rest of the day. However, unknown to the three, a familiar figure stood behind the lounge door, leaning against the nearby wall as he listened in.

***

“Lucas, how did you and my parents first meet?” Zaron approached with a curious tone.

“A fair question.” Lucas commented as he lifted a heavy cardboard box. “Why do you ask?”

“I’m just curious, is all.” Zaron then admitted, believing it was the ideal time to ask.

Zaron and Lucas were situated in the garage of the Cobalt house, manoeuvring various boxes and equipment to free up some additional space. Feeling as though he would only be an inconvenience otherwise, Zaron accepted Lucas’ request for help with the lingering house chores. Veena also decided to offer her assistance, opting to equip herself with a pair of shears and trim the back yard’s bordering hedges. Tobi and Marc were absent for the day, preoccupied with college-based studies – much to Tobi’s disdain. It was the perfect time for the two Draiken to play their part with the house chores, returning the favour for the family who graciously provided a home for them. It was also an opportunity for Zaron to ask the many questions that plagued his mind.

The garage was what anyone would expect: stocked with rows of tools, mechanical fluids, sprays and everything else under the maintenance banner. There were also mountain bikes, skies, snowboards, ropes, and other peculiar devices mounted to the walls: prideful monuments of the family’s call for adventure. Finally, a large refrigerator stood at the corner, packed with the necessary essentials – such as the exquisite beverages and other similar refreshments. At the centre or the garage was an open space for the Cobalt's family Pickup Truck. The truck was parked outside the house, allow space for the two to reshuffle the garage’s contents.

“I’ll be frank: I can’t go into too much detail due to the mission confidentiality at the time.” Lucas admitted to the young Draiken, shifting the boxed contents in the process. “But I can say that your father and I had a very ... eventful introduction.”

Lowering the three stacked boxes, Zaron glanced at the man with an understanding yet equally disappointed nod. He was respectful of Lucas’ stance on the matter, yet a part of him craved for backstory to their comradery. Lucas then noticed his reaction, struck instantly with second thoughts on the decision. He was a man of honour, adamant to serve the warrior's code to his dying breath. And yet, the Draiken boy who stood before him may soon end the twenty-year long feud between the two nations, causing him to feel as though it was an obligation to inform the boy. With an irritated sigh, Lucas revealed the details.

“Before I became a member of Xaphire’s Ultima, I was part of a Special Operatives group known as ‘Nightshade’.” Zaron's eyes perked up immediately, surprised by the unexpected change of mind. He continued to shift boxes and items as he listened to the story with heightened anticipation.

“Our team would fulfil missions that other legal authority couldn't handle, with the majority of said missions under strict confidentiality.” Lucas explained at length, once again emphasising on the secrecy. “During my first year of active service, I stumbled across your father on a similar mission to my own.”

He proceeded to explain that his mission was to retrieve a priceless treasure before it became the centrepiece if a gang-war. To add to the matter, the treasure was heavily pursued by an infamous crime boss, codenamed – for the purpose of the story – as simply ‘The Don'. A young and spy adventurer at the time, Virion was tipped on the Don's interest of the treasure from various verified insiders. He was also informed of the dangers with the treasure falling into the wrong hands, his sources even suggesting that it could cause destructive anomalies. Upon hearing of the other’s mission, a temporary partnership was formed between the unknown Draiken and the Nightshade. The objective: to retrieve the treasure and capture the Don.

Although their plan was extensively fool proof, the mission fell into disaster. A forest deep in the south-east of Humesa was struck by an unpredictable earthquake, separating Lucas from his team, and rendering him isolated with a crippling leg injury. Struggling through the dense forest to reach Nightshade's rendezvous point, he was soon hunted down by a pack of bloodthirsty wolves.

“I was terrified.” Lucas muttered lowly, reflecting on the events as though it was yesterday. “I honestly thought I was on death's door at the time. I had lost my equipment – including my weapons and emergency radio – and I had was cornered.”

Zaron had paused his labour momentarily, his mind too transfixed with the story to proceed with the workload.

“...But then, Virion swooped in to save my hide at the very last second.” Lucas breathed out with a whimsical smile. “He wiped out every wolf in one fell swoop of his blade. It was unbelievable.”

Noticing a heartfelt expression eclipse the man, Zaron assumed that the bond between Lucas and his father Virion was set in stone from that point on. Lucas then proceeded with the story, revealing that Virion had narrowly outwitted the Don for the treasure stowed deep within a series of underground caverns. Through his own greed and desperation, the Don had detonated a series of powerful explosives, sacrificing his own life to trap Virion deep in the caverns along with the treasure. Thankfully, Virion had escaped with the treasure in hand, using whatever time he had remaining to save anyone unfortunate enough to be stranded during the earthquake – Lucas included. It was not long before their newfound friendship turned into a professional partnership. During their spare time, the ventured throughout the far reaches of Xaphire, fulfilling numerous requests, gaining funds, and building names for themselves.

“Eventually, our joint venture expanded to include your mother: Terra, Veena's mother: Rowena, and ... Strada.”

Hearing Lucas pause before murmuring Strada Hydro's name sent a cold shiver up Zaron's spine. He was expecting the name to emerge eventually, and yet hearing Lucas mention him in such a resentful manner felt unsettling. Overall, he was grateful to hear the story of their eventful past, subsequently causing him to wonder what other stories were yet to be told – with his mother’s introduction on top of the bucket list. Unbeknownst to him, Lucas had already read his mind.

“Terra’s inclusion is an interesting story ... but I’d prefer to save it for a different day.” Lucas admitted in a low-key tease. “And besides, seeing as it heavily involves Terra, I’m sure Veena would like to hear the tale as well.”

As much as he despised craving for more, Zaron accepted the proposal without discrepancy. The two continued with the heavy lifting, chatting away on random topics without a care in the world. They were so engrossed in conversation that they had not acknowledged the new entity standing at the other side of the garage door.

***

It was close to midnight. Light in the neighbourhood dimmed as the neighbourhood turned in for the night. The area was at peace once more.

The same was said with the Cobalt house, with all occupants ready for a desirable recharge. During this time, the groggy Zaron made his way down to the kitchen, desperate to quench his lingering thirst. Gulping back on a fresh glass of water, he took the opportunity to reflect on the days in the Cobalt house. It had been two weeks since the events with Mantis.

The time living with the Cobalts had flown passed him, feeling as though it was only yesterday when he first met Lucas and Tobi. He was forever grateful for their continuous hospitality, wondering how he could pay them back for their troubles. However, the toleration on his isolation was reaching its limit – and he knew Veena was in the same boat. The two Draiken had preoccupied themselves as much as possible: assisting with the house chores, wasting time by watching TV, playing videogames, and sparring in the yard where necessary.

And yet, as appreciative as they were with the luxuries, it became a constant cycle of repetition and eventual boredom. He peered through the kitchen window, imagining Humesa beyond the borders of the house and what uncharted territories awaited discovery. No matter what ideas he could think up, there was still no known possibility to hide his Draiken features – he was at a loss. Any attempt to brainstorm ideas were useless, causing only a headache to form in the process.

Clearing his frustrations, Zaron gulped down the last drops of water and set the glass aside. He then left the kitchen promptly and proceeded down the hall towards the set of stairs – ensuring his steps were as quiet as a mouse. As he eyed the stairs, he expected to see Tobi fast asleep upon entering the bedroom, mentally preparing himself for another insufferable night of snoring. He directed his attention to checking his bandage wounds, feeling they had recovered to a manageable level. After days of decline, he was finally able to insist with Tobi to switch back to his bed. Tobi was hesitant initially, sceptical at the idea that his wounds had healed enough. However, after enough convincing, Tobi yielded to the demand, deciding to trust his winged friend. With him downgraded to the floor, Zaron felt he was able to be less of a burden compared to the past two weeks. It was only a minor change, but it was still progress.

He reached the staircase, ready to climb and finally hit the sack. However, an intimidating figure stood before him as he turned to face the steps. Noticing the reflection from rectangular-lens glasses, Zaron realised the person before him was Marc. Although it was difficult to determine his expression due to the lack of lighting; the intimidating aura surrounding Marc was proof enough that he was irritated to see Zaron. In swift retaliation, the Draiken stepped aside for him, allowing Marc to pass without issue. Not uttering a single word, Marc passed the Draiken and stepped towards the door to his room – not even acknowledging Zaron's existence.

Zaron stood feeling as though his pride as a Draiken was worthless. Every previous attempt to communicate with Marc always ended failure, even a simple gesture like a greeting or a nod was left ignored. The Draiken boy was then reminded of Tobi’s advice: any attempt to befriend the other Cobalt twin was pointless, not matter how hard he tried. Even so, Zaron felt the need to understand Marc’s point of view.

“Do you hate me?” He called out, breaking the silence.

Marc halted before the door to his room, his silence as suffocating as ever. Zaron stood his ground, watching the Cobalt with a determined glare as he waited patiently for an answer.

“No.”

Zaron’s eyes widened with surprise, his cautious expression lifted upon hearing such the unexpected answer.

“I just find you two a nuisance.” He then muttered underneath his breath.

Crack!

And just like that, Zaron's renewed spirits were shattered in a matter of seconds. His expression crumbled and wings drooped in immediate defeat, leaving an empty husk where a glimmer of hope once thrived. Using what remaining motivation he could muster, the young Draiken proceeded to speak his mind.

“Do you mind if I ask: why?”

The response that followed was a brief, agitated sigh. Zaron tensed up, hoping hot to cross the fragile line. Marc then turned to face the Draiken directly, a glimpse of his expression indicating his lingering dissatisfaction.

“You and that girl are a risk for my family.” He answered bitterly, showing no desire to sugar-coat his words. “Dad and Tobi were naïve in thinking we could just take you both in without consequence. Every day you two stay here, it’s another step to our death sentence.”

Zaron gulped anxiously, despising the fact that there was truth in Marc’s words. Whilst he acknowledged the lengths that both Lucas and Tobi had battled through just to keep the two Draiken secured, there was a cast on uncertainty on how long it would all last.

“What do you suggest I do?” He then asked, he head lowered in guilt. Refusing to break his intimidating glare, Marc stepped closer to the young Draiken.

“I don’t care what you do.” He stated sternly, showing dominance in his stance. “Tobi and my old man may have taken a liking to you two, but that’s not going to work on me. If you and that girl end up rekindling our nations, then you two will have my respect. However, as it stands right now, I'm not going to be a part of it and neither do I want my family involved.”

Unable to look him in the eye, Zaron submitted with a single nod.

“I understand.”

Marc breathed out, finding himself in an uncomfortable position.

“Here’s my suggestion: the first chance you get, you and your girlfriend should pack up and leave. What you do after that is none of my concern.”

Zaron had heard enough. With his mind made up, he turned and stepped up towards the landing. Marc continued to watch him silently, waiting for him to finally disappear. However, Zaron halted mid-ascent.

He glanced down to Marc below, eyes absent of life.

“...Sorry ... for being a bother.” He murmured in a barely audible tone.

After that, Zaron disappeared immediately. Marc stood frozen in place, his mind processing the ordeal he had encountered. Although void of expression and emotion, it was clear that Zaron's words struck deeper than intended. With a low sigh, he turned and approached the door to his room with one last irritable murmur.

“...What a pain.”