Chapter Text
Dain trudged his way through the leadership quarters hallway. Exhaustion lined his face, weighing his limbs. Draithus had been hell. The wyvern were everywhere, some bearing venin riders intent on killing. He reached his door, the wards lifting at his touch on the handle. He stepped through the door, toeing it shut before wearily flicking his hand to turn the lock. The wards flared back to life at his entry, providing him a sense of privacy that he’d severely lacked over the past 48 hours.
As more of the riot returned from battle, the distinct absence of others was hard to swallow. Dain tossed his flight goggles on his desk, they still flecked with blood and ash, before sinking into the chair. The sturdiness of the wood against his aching back wasn’t the most pleasant feeling, but it kept him alert. His thoughts spiraled, something he refused to let happen as he checked in with his cadets and fellow leadership. As he helped tend to the wounded and account for the dead.
Aaric is missing. Bodhi is missing. Garrick is missing. Dain worried what this meant for the riot. Aaric, Dain knew him as Cam, was a prince of Navarre and one of his oldest friends. They grew up together. He knew Aaric had a habit of running headfirst into dangerous situations, not taking the time to question if it was a smart move. Him sending Sloane out into a damn battlefield to deliver something to Violet proved that. Dain knew Aaric and Sloane were good friends, but it didn’t excuse the prince putting another first year risk.
Bodhi and Garrick were different problems altogether. Mainly due to the other missing part of their riot, the one whose true nature had been broadcast to everyone in Arteria. Riorson. Dain had known something was up with the shadow wielder, his behavior a little too erratic even for him. It’d become more noticeable while they searched the islands for the irids. Dain had never known Xaden to actually be relaxed and cheerful, but he’d come pretty damn close while on Violet’s quest. Dain’s analytical mind couldn’t help comparing the lieutenant’s mood at Riorson House to that of the island and the vast difference between them. He just couldn’t figure out the reason why that was.
Until now. He ran a hand over his face, he still not wanting to believe it. Xaden Riorson was a venin. A dark laugh escaped him as all those missing pieces suddenly slid into place. I never did understand Lynx’s signet being the same, it shouldn’t have been possible. Dain knew that Violet already knew about his turn, hell she’d probably been instrumental in keeping it secret until it couldn’t be hidden anymore. I will never understand that relationship. He’d long let go of his crush on Violet, he realizing it being nothing more than residual feelings leftover from a childhood love. But Xaden Riorson was a jackass, and he’d be the first one to admit it. Xaden never apologized for his actions, never asked for permission. Dain supposed there was something to be said for that, but the Violet he knew wouldn’t have thought it so charming. The rider’s quadrant changed a person, he was a testament to that, but she had changed faster than he could keep up with.
Dain was prideful, but not an idiot. Riorson turning to the side of the venin was one hell of problem. Shadow wielding wasn’t common, it was incredibly rare and it was immeasurably powerful. And now that they knew venin still carried the signets they had in life before the turn, a vindictive, shadow wielding venin was the last thing they needed. Add on the fact that many of those tasked to fight Riorson were his friends, his family…Violet…
You need to sleep. All of this can wait.
Cath’s voice was gentle, warm. The red swordtail was fierce and powerful, his hot temper in line with that of reds. It was well known that Cath could be a bit prickly and to never piss him off if you valued your life. But with Dain, he was different. Those months where Dain had been made a pariah, he’d spent a lot of time with Cath, finding solace in the one bond that would never forsake him.
I will. Soon. You need your rest as well, buddy.
I will rest when you do.
Dain couldn’t help but smile, the steady presence of Cath in his mind a comfort. Deciding his dragon was right, he worked up the strength to stand back up, peeling his flight jacket from his body, a twinge pricking between his shoulders. It joined his goggles on the desk before he went to remove his black undershirt. As he drew it up, a pain flared between his shoulder blades, Dain hissing as the prominent sting. With gritted teeth, he removed the shirt tossing it onto his growing pile of dirty things.
He walked into his adjoining bathroom, wingleader privilege, to stand in front of the mirror. He turned the side before twisting his torso a little more to see better. An angry red line scored along his back diagonally from the top of left shoulder blade to the bottom of his right. The cut was still oozing blood slowly, it already caked around the edges where more had already dried. He’d forgotten that he had been injured. Ever since the return to Arteria, he just assumed any pain in his back was from exhaustion and common battle bruises. As he took in the blistered skin around the cut, he flashed back to a memory from the battle.
He and Cath fighting were three wyvern at once, one of them bearing a rider. Dain could clearly see the distended veins tracking down the venin’s face, the red hue of its eyes. The venin hungered for Dain’s death, for Cath’s final bellow. Cath swung his tail into the side of one wyvern while snapping his jaws around another’s neck and slashing his talon threw the third’s leathery wing. Dain watched the venin jump from his wyvern, the one Cath’s had locked between his teeth, landing lithely on the ground. It smiled evilly up at Dain, tauntingly lowering its hand to the ground slowly. He didn’t know what kind of signet the venin possessed, but he wasn’t about to find out. He rose to his feet, ignoring Cath’s incensed order to get back in his seat. He ran along Cath’s spine to his back hind leg. It wasn’t common practice to do a running dismount from a hindleg, but there wasn’t time for such things at the moment. Dain adjusted his approach as needed before skidding his feet along Cath’s scales to his talon.
Seeing as Dain was going to do this or die trying, Cath snapped the neck of the wyvern he’s been holding, before using his hold on the other two to drag the mass of them closer to the ground. Dain spied a half collapsed pillar just to his left. With a deep breath, he launched his body from Cath’s talon, his boots hitting the top of the pillar solidly. In a show of overconfidence, the venin took the time to clap slowly, far from impressed it seemed. The dagger landing in its shoulder a few seconds later had the smile slipping from its face, replaced by a snarl of fury. But Dain was already moving again.
He jumped from the pillar to the ground, rolling to keep from breaking an ankle, he came up right next to the venin, slashing at the back of its knees. The venin buckled to the ground, one hand reaching for the lush green grass below it and one for Dain. He blocked the hand going for the ground, spinning to avoid the venin’s deadly touch. While Dain went for an alloy dagger, the venin ripped the one from its shoulder intending to impale Dain on his own blade. He released his hold on the venin’s hand, ducking the fatal stab, but it doing so it exposed his back. The dagger in the venin’s hand began to burn red hot, it using its fire wielding ability to heat up the blade. The venin slashed Dain across the back, not holding back on strength, the imbued dagger shredding through Dain’s flight jacket and undershirt to find his flesh. Dain gave a shout of pain, it followed closely by a roar of rage from Cath.
Ignoring the pain for now, Dain disarmed the venin, driving an alloy dagger into its heart. He smirked victoriously as the monster died. Cath’s talons wrapped around him moments later, an admonishment already rolling through Dain’s mind in the dragon’s deep tone. A wyvern came tearing along behind the a pair, releasing a jet of blue fire. Cath threw Dain upward so as to take his seat.
Dain grunted in pain, the venin’s dagger having inflicted both a laceration and burns across his skin. It was a superficial burn, but that didn’t much help with the unpleasant feeling. Right as he returned to his seat, darkness swept along the battlefield, he and Cath encased in a cloaking darkness. Screeches echoed through the air, followed by the whistle of many somethings plummeting from the sky all around them. When the shadows lifted, the sky was empty save for the riot, the ground below now littered with the bodies of the wyvern, all with gaping holes in their chests.
Dain was pulled from the memory by Cath’s angry huff in his mind, followed by a command.
Take yourself to the healers this instant.
It’s just a cut, bud. The burns are minor. I can tend to it here. Dain studied the wound more carefully, frowning at the persistent thrum of pain now that he had acknowledged the injury.
Unless you possess a second signet allowing you to contort your body beyond its natural limitations, I fail to see how you intend to do so.
Dain glared at his own reflection, his irritation flaring down his bond with Cath.
I’ll figure it out. I’ve seen the price of this war. The wounded’s lives still hang in the balance, mine does not.
If it is minor, it should be nothing for the lightning wielder’s brother to mend you.
Dain sighed, moving toward a small cabinet that housed his first aid supplies.
Let it go, Cath. Brennan’s strength, all of it, should go to those more in need. Please rest, you fought hard. You fought well. You’ve earned it.
He could sense Cath’s desire to argue the point further, but reined in the impulse.
If you are still in need of medical assistance tomorrow you will go to the mender. I will drag you there in my talons myself if I must.
Dain smiled at the comment, he feeling Cath’s protectiveness over him clear as day. He sent a flood of affection down the bond to his dragon.
Understood. You win.
After a flash of satisfaction from Cath, Dain felt the dragon retreat from his mind, hopefully going to get some much deserved sleep. Dain pulled out his med kit, sifting through the supplies as he determined what he might need. Just as he set the antiseptic on the counter, a knock on his door sounded from the other room.
Dain turned his head, not sure he’d heard that right. When it came again, he walked into his room, confusion running through him. As far as he knew, everyone had been dismissed to their rooms to bathe and rest. He flicked his wrist to undo the lock before pulling open the wooden door. The blonde on the other side had Dain raising an eyebrow in surprise.
“Mairi?”