YUVEN

Gold serpents wound themselves around the pillars with scrolls clamped in their jaws. Pyon's messengers, and forced to carry his own, he pushed himself through his own foolish pride pushing a caustic flow of fury through his throat at the emptiness and the cold touch within his own home; Eyrusha — Euros in the webbed, Common tongue. The rose of the sky — the smallest flower of their oath. His footsteps echoed down the corridors bereft of other Wardens when their Order's numbers dwindled with the passage of Turns and recruitment failed when others saw their duty as doomed from the start. It popped the bubble in his chest as he released a vent of rage between his fangs. People would rather lay down and die. Well... I don't. I won't. I've lived my entire life with the knowledge it would be cut short, they haven't. We'll see if they feel the same way as more hordes appear or the Storm Spires break over the Burning Abyss.

Windchimes rang through the western wing to sing out a tune of melancholic peace. He faltered by the prayer rooms when a Storm Warden slipped out of one of the doorways into the courtyard with the tree of bleeding hearts and paper ornaments. Hesitation drove a knife into his wrists at the spirals of pitch. Away from the hallowed grounds of mendacity, he headed to Fenrer's room instead to test the truth of Adara's words — that his Oathbound's sleeping habits worsened. In front of the dark oak door, he raised his hand to punch it, but found himself faltering. When will you learn, Traye? How much more of a fool must you act?

His heel met air when worlds stretched around him and he crossed the boundaries into the flow. Images of the citadel flowed around him, but he knew his destination. Through the door, he solidified himself back in Fenrer's room and drew his attention to the wolven banners which gave his Oathbound a sense of home. The headdress of the Pyren's sat on the dresser, with his weapon rack holding his bow and an extra blade for emergencies. Papers filled his desk in chaotic piles with a single quill abandoned in the inkwell. Books filled the shelves, and he scoffed at some of the titles in Hanekan. Shanties and fairytales. He's almost as bad as Adara.

Over to the window, a shape occupied Fenrer's bed where a half-open medicine box sat on the end-table and a wolven carved hairpin rested against it. His shadow swallowed Fenrer, who buried his face in the pillow with a deep tempo to his breathing. Failure bit into his anger, but he clenched his fist as fingers slipped out of his own. Rain carved into his cheeks as he cried out a single name through the storm, holding on for his life past the cruelty of man. He knelt for no one he liked to tell himself, but he got on his knees near Fenrer's head as he slept, reaching out past the jaws of mist and watched him disappear completely after climbing to him on soaked, loose pebbles.

I failed, and that is unacceptable. I am supposed to protect you!

Fumes of icy mist left through the corners of his lip, but he sucked in the fury to reach past the morning fog. His fingers grazed his Oathbound's warm cheeks, and he focused on the connection between them. Embers born of the dawn crawled across his skin, and he investigated them with a frown. It curled over his palm, a hum of power when he brought his nose closer to it, and the warmth threatened for a scorching desert. Stifled with his ice, he stilled his movements when Fenrer burrowed deeper into the pillow with a singular sigh, deep in sleep. He ran his fingers over the medicine box's lacquer finish, closing it to protect the hazebulbs from extreme dryness.

There is something off with your Primordial, Fenrer. Did the Expulsion Event... do something to you? Yuven returned his hand to his face, and sat with his foolish pride. "I just want them back," he whispered for his own comfort instead of someone else's. Venom bore into his throat at the worst case scenarios, but he kept a hold on Fenrer, and never again. "I am... sorry, Fenrer. I haven't learned, have I? I haven't learned from the lessons over the journey... when I let you go at those cliffs... why is this so hard?"

Fenrer remained fast asleep.

You've always been stronger than me.

Dark puddles sloshed against stained leather armor as the wolven pin bled crimson and Fenrer waded through rot without falter. No. He smacked the heels of his palms against his temples. That was a construct of Blackwall's, nothing more! The reality is here. In front of me. He rested his arm on Fenrer's shoulder and found his gaze drawn to the four small statuettes Fenrer organized into their cardinal placements upon a small plate. Faith. Faith built on lies. Anger drove a wedge into his throat at Neven's prevailing belief that Naveera could be anything but what it always was instead of the distant dream Miesero held his faith in. A place of apathy, pain, and cruelty. They won't change... can't you see that? His fingers dug into the back of Fenrer's shirt as he choked on his own fury.

Fenrer's brow furrowed as his breathing stilled with his own choking pride.

"I'm sorry, Fen," he repeated in childish confusion, then slid his fangs over his lips as he pulled his hand off Fenrer. "You're... too powerful for your own good... even sleeping, you aren't free." He waited for Fenrer to relax before pinching his face. "I'll do what you told me to do. Action instead of words to those that don't listen, and we'll see. I will go to Naveera myself if I have to to get them back." Fury focused, he leaned closer to press his forehead against Fenrer's warm one. "Rest, Molvisaliz. I'll handle this." On his feet once more, he trailed on the auric blinder on the hook as headed for the door, opening it to let himself go instead of retreating into the movement of the flow.

I'll fix this. Everyone else can have their faith — I want results.

He ascended into the tallest spires of the citadel, closing in on the launch pads and the observatories. Hollow echoes followed his footsteps as he reached the main level to the Warden leadership, those of most senior rank which included the Warden-Commanders and their most trusted lieutenants. He had never met the other Warden-Commander who brought the fight straight into the desert — a harsh posting and rarely did the Wardens enter the dunes and come back in one piece, or even alive. Yuven slowed to a stop outside the rune-shaped doors, trepidation stopped him short from throwing his entire weight to break apart the obstacle.

A boy to the world.

Yuven straightened himself out when the swirls lit up, and the door unfurled itself into the masonry of the frame. A short staircase led higher into the seat of the Echelon, where a couple of Wardens stood around a smaller version of the meeting hall's map. Beacons of light rose high from points of interest, and Faehariel lifted her gaze over the glow to set her pupils in opalescent fire. "Warden Traye, you may approach."

Uncertainty clamped his mouth shut as he ascended once more to face them on equal ground. "Warden-Commander." He canted his head in respect, but he frowned at the other Wardens when they examined him with sharp authority. "I have held my tongue, but I cannot any longer. I believe Neven Lotayrin and Maria Ollain are in danger, and by extension the newfound Irimount outpost."

Commander Faehariel looked between the senior Wardens, battle-hardened and carried scars from pyrrhic fights against Derelicts. He, no more than fresh, inexperienced blood to them. Irritation curled his fingers, but he let it plume out of his nose when she motioned at him. "Want to explain yourself, Warden Traye? Why do you think that they are in danger?"

Her line of questions was familiar, but no less, he answered them. "It has been almost a whole moon since we had any sort of contact with them."

"It was an expectation that any correspondence would slow, Captain Lotayrin mentioned as such before he left," Warden Haven pointed out with a frown.

"Slow, yes, not stop entirely. Neven would've found a way to get something back here," Yuven argued, but bit into his rage when the older Warden's narrowed their eyes at him. "We need to send more Wardens to Irimount to find them and bring them home." But I don't have your strength of conviction. Yuven held himself straight when the Wardens deferred to Warden-Commander Faehariel, who folded her arms in thought. I don't have your strength of resolution and righteousness. He watched as Fenrer Pyren shattered the light and walked through its visceral remains with the bloodied crescent blade at his side, dripping ice.

"We cannot act based on feelings," Faehariel said. Yuven opened his mouth to bite, to scream, but she held up her hand. "What we can do first, is look at the information we do have before throwing ourselves in the fray, Warden Traye, so let me rephrase my earlier question — "What do you have that makes you believe, without a shadow of a doubt, that they are in danger? Remember, we do not involve ourselves in politics." Her questions pushed, but he found himself struggling to follow her route and her authority.

"Well..." Yuven sucked in his lips. "What if... we're forced into it?" He took the final charge forward. "What if it finds us instead? What if we're pulled into it against our will? Maybe Irimount itself is safe from that influence, but outside the cradle remains a wasteland in more ways than one." He collected his thoughts, then continued, "I was captured under the whims of politics, and I... I believe it is entirely possible that politically motivated parties have found information about me, Warden-Commander."

Because if Blackwall and that puffed out king can somehow find information about me... maybe it's not so secret and kept under wraps as I'd like it to be. Yuven chewed his lips and pleaded for his father's life.

"Hm." Faehariel hummed out a forlorn word, then glanced at the others. "Yuven Traye... has Neven Lotayrin told you anything of his work in Asairai?"

"He..." Yuven faltered, then bit on his lies when the temptation arose, as she was an Aurus and his words were under constant scrutiny. "He mentioned something about a cult, Warden-Commander, and that they were the reasons for Trainee Kayal's death. Fenrer Pyren, he..." He grounded himself then finished, "He connected himself with Kayal in his final moments. He experienced his death."

"I see." Warden-Commander Faehariel sighed. "I require Neven Lotayrin back in Asairai, so, Yuven Traye, what is your suggestion?"

"We get them back." Their long silence shook him, and he forced out the rest of his plan, "Hippogryphs. We're going to need them to cut the journey time in Irimount to try and track down their path if they have truly gone missing. Only a couple of Wardens so we can move around undetected. Mie— Captain Lotayrin said something about wanting to look for a map, I know what he was looking for. I can find him, Warden-Commander, but I can't do it alone."

Just give me that chance.

As if his words set off a fire, Faehariel smiled at once. "You heard him, Warden Haven," she said. "We have Storm Wardens we need to retrieve. Yuven Traye, who do you want to bring with you into your foray?"

"Fenrer Pyren," Yuven said. "He might be able to track them aurically."

If he'll... agree.

"Then it is up to you to set up the logistics of this confirmation and your chosen team and hippogryphs. I will send you on the same path Neven Lotayrin and Maria Ollain took, but I am also giving you this if your instinct is right and they are no longer in Irimount." Faehariel shuffled through her pockets, then threw a diamond foci to him. "It will allow me to readjust the volcano's flow to retrieve you, but it is a short window of time. You must get them, and return."

He hugged it against his chest. "Thank you, Warden-Commander. I will get started right away. I would like for us to leave as the week ends." I won't leave them in that horrid place any longer. "I believe this is an emergency, Commander, and if we don't get to them in time... we'll lose them instead."

"It shall be done, Warden Traye." Faehariel nodded in obvious dismissal, so he turned on his heel and stomped out of the briefing hall.

Once the doors closed behind him, he released the rest of the tension through his nose to investigate the diamond foci. Runic circuitry wrapped around its bands, an Umbral Redirector. He let it slide into his palm before pocketing it, rushing down the steps with his sense of unease though victory was so close in his reach. I need... I need him to say yes, though I know my behavior was not fair. I will feel better when I see them, when I see her. Down into the western wing again, he ran into Fenrer's room where he had left him in the same position.

"Molvisaliz!" he barked.

"Mm-huh?" Fenrer rolled over onto his back and held up his hands, a haze over his eyes. "Yuven?"

"I need you to listen." He gripped onto the sides of his head. "You and I are going back into Naveera and getting Neven and Maria out of that accursed place with a small team of Wardens. I want you ready to get saddled up in riding gear at a moment's notice."

Fenrer blinked. "You.... you went to the Warden-Commander? You listened to me?"

"Focus," he hissed with another gentle shake. "We must leave Adara here. I do not want to give them another chance for her, but I will not abandon them, understand me? Are you with me or not?" He tried not to beg, not for anything, but Fenrer was the sole exception to the rule.

Fenrer kept his hands raised in defense. "I'm with you."

"Good." Yuven released him and dropped him back onto the pillow. "I want you to get gear ready as well. I do not want a repeat of what we went through in the Frozen Wastes," he instructed when Fenrer groaned and pushed himself underneath the pillow instead. "I also want you as well-rested as possible, so keep taking those hazebulbs or I will force them down your throat."

"You do realise interrupting what little sleep I can get does not help?" Fenrer's snap came out muffled, and Yuven hesitated at the edge in his accent.

Apologize.

It lodged into his throat when he went to Fenrer's side as he held the pillow against his own face. "Molvi..."

"What?"

A childish name drowned in immature rage.

"Nothing," it came out instead of the apology built upon his misdirected fury. "Just... I need you, yes? I need you to be at your best when we do this. I do not want to go back there but I must. I will feel better if you are there beside me, as you have been for turns."

Fenrer dragged the pillow of his face which scattered brown strands. "As if that was ever in question, Yuv..." He rolled over with his back to him. "Can I return to trying to go back to sleep now?"

I'm sorry!

His fingers slipped out of his.

"Yes."

He let go.

"Then you should go get everything ready. I'll be there," Fenrer mumbled into the pillow he rolled over onto. "Let me know when we are leaving."

"By week's end." Yuven headed for the door, stopped by a sense of hesitation the threshold as pride screeched in petulance when compassion dared to dig its loose fangs deeper. Fenrer's mattress squeaked when he rolled over again, giving him a pointed side-eye from over his shoulder. His tongue slid between his fangs when the green spirals washed into a slow whirlpool. Viscera squelched underneath boots, the pin bloodied. He rolled out his neck, then forced himself away from his Oathbound. "We're finishing this, once and for all."

He closed the door behind him and shut Fenrer Pyren out once more.