Chapter 03 / First day at work

January 2nd, 15.002 La Paz, Ashveil Desert, Umbra [Vampire Continent]

The sky over the Ashveil Desert was just turning pale when Sukira reached the yard in front of the Civil building. Loose sand crunched beneath her boots on the concrete, the air sharp and cool with the last bite of night. She waited, arms crossed, already in uniform.

Footsteps echoed — two sets, not one.

Risha appeared first, already grinning, hair sticking out in every direction. Right behind him came Reno, a little smaller, his fiery red shorter hair but just as messy, though with a deliberate carelessness that made it clear he liked it that way.

“You brought company,” Sukira said, voice flat.

Reno beamed. “I’m not company. I’m his rival.” He slung an arm around Risha’s shoulders, tugging him close.

“Competition is good, no?,” Risha muttered, elbowing him.

“I’ll beat you in seconds,” Reno shot back, and just like that they were laughing, shoving, tripping over each other until they nearly collapsed in front of her.

Sukira exhaled, unimpressed. “So you’ll be training with us today? Fine. Start with running.”

The boys bolted without complaint. Risha was quick, light on his feet, while Reno’s steps pounded heavier — until suddenly they didn’t. Sukira’s eyes narrowed as she caught him floating a fraction above the ground, legs still pumping but body almost weightless. He held it a moment before slamming down again, dust puffing up around his shoes.

Risha wheezed out a laugh. “You’re always cheating!”

“I don’t cheat,” Reno argued, catching up with a bounce in his stride. “It’s my gift. If I can’t use it, what’s the point?”

“What exactly is it you’ve got going on?” Sukira asked, tone sharp but curious.

“Uhm… hard to explain. But you know gravity?”

Sukira gave him a look — flat, patient. She took a big, deep breath before replying. “Yes, I do know gravity.”

“Well… I don’t.” Reno’s grin widened as he lifted himself a foot into the air before letting himself drop with a thud, the impact cracking the concrete slightly. “See? I can be lighter than nothing, or heavier than everything.”

“I see.” Sukira paused, then spoke with her usual steel. “From now on, you’ll train with us every morning. You’ll learn to control it. And no cheating. When I say run, you run. When I say jump, you jump. No gifts. And no magic,” she added, cutting her eyes at Risha, who liked to sneak his spells into drills, from time to time.

Both boys nodded and kept running, sweat already plastering hair to their foreheads.

They finished their laps, noisy and laughing, collapsing into the rough floor, trying to pin each other down. Risha clung to Reno’s arm like a vice; Reno shoved him off, then immediately helped him back up. Soldiers in the making, Sukira thought — though the spirits help her, they were insufferable ones.

“Now move on to balancing and resistance. Risha, explain the circuit to Reno.”

A shadow crossed the yard.

Ryn Vexmere stepped from the side path, uniform on but worn her way: shirt untucked and too big, oversized pants with chains, shoes dirtied from who knows what, her straight black hair to the shoulders and bangs framing a face pale as snow. Her red pale eyes were sharp, unblinking, as she placed herself beside Sukira.

“Commander,” Ryn said evenly, voice flat. “Reporting for duty.”

“Hey, Ryn. Been a while. You haven’t changed a bit — you grunge teenager.”

Ryn offered a small smirk, nothing more. Talking wasn’t her habit.

“I’m glad you’ll be by my side,” Sukira said, and she meant it. Her voice had that uncanny way of making people feel seen, even when she barely tried.

Ryn gave a small nod. “We shouldn’t arrive late on our first day.”

“You and Jeda can shove your punctuality—” Sukira muttered, but she was already signaling the boys to wrap it up.

Risha trotted over with Reno at his side. His eyes flicked from Ryn to Reno and back again. “Hey, wait. Is that your sister, right? How pretty!! She looks soOo cool”. 

“Yeah,” Reno said proudly — then leapt with a boost of his gravity gift, landing straight in her arms. “One day I’ll be stronger than you, Ryn.”

Ryn didn’t answer. She only set him down with a firm pat on the head.

“Let’s tell Haru,” Reno whispered to Risha, eyes gleaming. “We’re going to be the strongest soldiers in the Elite.”

Risha nodded fiercely. “But we need to train every day. Elon says once classes start, we won’t get mornings like this anymore.”

“That’s right,” Sukira said, voice cutting back in. “Now shower and then breakfast. I’ll be at the Academy Tower if you need me.”

The boys straightened, saluted like cadets, and tore off, their voices echoing down the corridor.

♥︎

The path from the West Wing to the North Wing was, more or less, a 15-minute walk. It could be reached by walking through the Command Towers corridors or taking a stroll along the beach’s shore. 

On their way to the Academy Grounds, Sukira and Ryn could hear Dominique’s voice carrying across the yard, laughter threaded through her words as she spoke with three figures near the Civil Quarter offices, long past the bedrooms towers and their artificial parks where the kids' training took place minutes ago. 

The West Wing was the most alive section of La Paz: children darting between unfinished houses, laundry strung across balconies, and the smell of bread drifting from the makeshift bakery. Unlike the Command Towers, made of sharp lines of concrete and steel, this quarter felt like a small town still half under construction. Streets were clean, but scaffolding stood at corners, new towers and small buildings made for different uses all rising almost every week.

When La Paz was founded, the military Elite and the founding families agreed that the civilians living here deserved their own voice. To avoid the pitfalls of monarchs, councils of blood, or bought elections, the residents voted openly for three representatives — one human, one elf, and one vampire — who would rule with the people’s trust. Their role was simple but essential: manage daily life, organize resources, and serve as the bridge between ordinary families and the Elite’s Committee.

Inside the Civil Quarter, these three were known as the triad.

♥︎

Ryn tried to avoid looking at her, but Sukira slowed her pace, gaze resting on Dominique with the pride of an (almost) older sister.

Dominique greeted them with her usual warmth, jacket hanging a little loose, tie barely holding in place. “Okay, okay, let’s move this to one of the meeting rooms in the Command Towers. You three make me feel like I’m the one working for you.”

The three civilians chuckled and followed her inside, into a small conference room built in the shadow of the center of the Citadel.

Currently, the triad was composed of:

Helena Veylor (Human) — Mid-forties, once a merchant in Concordia before the Prowar party’s rise. Her dark hair, streaked with gray, was always tied back with a scarf. Practical, outspoken, sharp with numbers. She managed food distribution and habitational assignments, counting every family that came through La Paz. Her grandchildren lived here with her, though her own children remained in Concordia — a silence she never explained.

Sakura (Elf) — A scholarly teacher from the Silver Circle of Eloria. Slim, with silver-blonde hair and ink stains on his cuffs, he was gentle in voice but firm in values. A loner by nature, yet sweet and caring, he had taken charge of creating La Paz’s first proper school and recreational activities for the community.

Lucius Drask (Vampire) — Mid-twenties in appearance but older by blood. A craftsman from Velmore but eradicated in Concordia’s Rift Zone, rough around the edges, full of tattoos and piercings. He coordinated construction and infrastructure, often dusted in sawdust. A father of three, he mentioned them constantly — especially their excitement to move to La Paz, soon.

Dominique set her hands on the table, smiling wide. “All right, triad, hit me. What’s new? Don’t spare me, I can take it.”

Helena was first, tapping a ledger. “Food supply’s steady, but classes start in a month. Families are asking: uniforms? books? paper? I already scheduled lunches for the children at the school, so they won’t need to walk back home midday.”

Dominique nodded furiously. “Perfect. Supplies are arriving next week. I’ll say no uniforms. And the lunch idea? Brilliant. Thanks, Helena.”

Lucius leaned forward, arms crossed. “Housing, then. We’re expecting five more families from Elaris in the next few days. The rooms we finished last month are ready for them. We’re fine for now, but word is we might double the population by mid-year. Can my crews push harder? Yes. But we’ll run out of material.”

“The more the merrier!” Dominique said honestly, clapping her hands together. “Axis told me the old Vexmere man is shipping us extra soon, it might take a while, tho... But Tech is sending one of his cadets to your team — something about an indestructible thing that you’ll mix with concrete? Don’t ask me how it works, but expect him to show up. Let me know what else you might need.” Dominique was messy but sharp; she was putting all of herself into remembering each topic, to be on top of everything that required her attention, to help everyone with everything she could. 

Lucius chuckled, shaking his head.

Sakura spoke last, voice softer but no less steady. “I’m excited about the school. Every week more children arrive… some frightened, some orphaned. They need stability, community. A place to remind them they’re more than just refugees.” His smile was gentle, and the others couldn’t help but return it. “School is mandatory but I’m coming up with a schedule of clubs and extra-curricular activities for kids who don’t want to come back to an empty room that fast after school hours.” 

The school was more than just classrooms. It would be the first in history to teach a unified version of the truth: no human lies, no elven half-myths, no vampire propaganda. For the first time, children from all three races, and all the mixes in between, would learn the same history, stripped of grey areas. If La Paz survived, this school would be its greatest weapon — not swords, not wards, but knowledge.

Dominique’s smile faltered, but she leaned in, serious now. “I hear you. All of you. Most of La Paz is bracing for war, but peace matters just as much inside these walls. That’s why we built this place. Not just soldiers, not just generals — people. Families. A future.”

In Umbra, Concordia, or Elaris, civilians rarely had this much say. In La Paz, it was different by design. The Triad could not override the Committee, but they acted independently in civilian matters — and, more importantly, they spoke for the people.

Helena smiled. “That’s all we need, Lady Velaric. To know you’re listening.”

Dominique laughed nervously, rubbing her neck. “Listening, yes. Understanding? That might take me a bit longer. But I promise — I’ll do everything I can… I’ll fight for you. That, at least, I can do. Also, please don’t use that horrible last name. Call me Domi, I’ve asked a million times by now”. 

The three exchanged glances and nodded. For all her quirks, Dominique’s sincerity was never in doubt.

♥︎

“I’m proud of you, Dom,” Sukira said even though she couldn’t hear it.

“Tch.” Ryn didn’t look at her.

Sukira arched a brow. “What happened between you two?”

Silence.

Sukira sighed. “Just don’t take it out on Eloise”.

At that, Ryn turned her head, eyes flashing red-silver. “I would never.” Her voice was clipped but firm. She lit a cigarette.

They walked the rest of the way in silence until the Academy Grounds opened before them.

♥︎

The Training grounds of La Paz stretched wide across the edge of the Academy Wing. A sprawling complex of sandstone and steel, its courtyards were open-air, ringed with columns that formed the entry of the main building; on the inside stood a mix of concrete barracks, practice halls, facilities humming with machinery, even a resting room. It was unfinished, scaffolding clung to walls, piles of lumber and stone still lined at the edges, but already alive with energy.

Rows of training dummies stood in the main yard. Chalk-marked arenas waited for sparring. A half-built obstacle course sprawled across the sand, wooden beams still raw. Beyond that, shaded halls promised lecture rooms, armories, a gym, and archives yet to be filled.

Sukira’s sharp eyes took it in: the scale, the emptiness, the potential. A blank space. For once, she wasn’t just expected to fight and kill. She was expected to shape.

And there he was, leaning against a half-erected column: the cleanest of the uniforms, jacket open, cigarette dangling from his lips. 

“The most beautiful, deadly vampires in the three continents,” he declared, spreading his arms as they approached. His grin was as wide as ever. “What a sight. If the enemy doesn’t surrender at first glance, we’ll just stab them prettier.”

“Charming as always,” Sukira muttered, plucking the cigarette straight from his mouth. He made a playful grab for her tie, but she moved faster, smirking.

Jeda pushed off the column, expression tightening just a fraction. “Listen. This wing is yours now. You’re in charge of the whole structure. How it runs, how it looks, who trains where — that’s your call. I don’t give a damn. I trust you completely with this.”

“What if I need something? You won’t give a damn about that either?”

He jerked a thumb toward Ryn. “I put her as your second.”

Ryn stayed silent, watching.

“Axis handles Security. He is your General. You can go to him. I won’t force you into Committee meetings, but keep him updated.” Jeda lit another cigarette, since the first was still in Sukira’s hand, and exhaled smoke. “As for the rest? It’s yours. Build the team however you want. Squads, cohorts, mixed groups — whatever works.”

Sukira crossed her arms, gaze sweeping over the empty yards again. She could already see it: boots pounding in unison, voices shouting cadence. A discipline forged from nothing, sharp enough to hold its own against any army.

Jeda’s grin faded into something more grounded. “And don’t forget: every soul here is a volunteer. No one’s forced. We’ll never drag someone into a fight they don’t want. These are civilians who raised their hands.”

She didn’t turn. Her eyes stayed fixed on the yard.

Jeda stepped closer, catching her face in one hand — rougher than he needed to. “Oi. You listening? Shaped, not broken. If someone wants to step back, you let them.”

Sukira’s lips curved into something not quite a smile, cheeks puffing from Jeda’s grip. “Then let’s see how much they can take before they break themselves.”

Ryn smirked, letting out a quiet laugh.

Jeda groaned, half amused, half exasperated. “I don’t know if putting you two together was a good idea…”

“Too late.” Sukira shoved him back, just as abrupt as his grip had been. “Let’s see if you know how to run, cadets”. She shouted, and everyone stood in an instant. 

The wind swept across the training grounds, carrying desert grit and the weight of beginnings.

♥︎

Jeda left the Academy grounds with smoke still clinging to his uniform and Sukira’s cold touch still burning in his hand. He smirked as he walked, but his thoughts had already shifted.

She’s okay. That leaves me with the other one. One more job today. The hardest one.

He crossed through the main courtyard of La Paz, past scaffolding and new stone, past children shouting about “the end” of the holidays. He circled all the wings twice. He moved around, asked Eloise, Dominique, even Sami. He even dared to poke into Tech’s territory — twice in a row — just to find him.

Where are you, Sunshine? Everyone has duties and things to do but you… Oh, of course. Risha. 

His steps slowed when he heard a very loud laugh coming from the beach, near the Civil wing. 

Down at the shore, Risha chased Reno and Haru with a wooden sword, all three shrieking with joy. A little pack of chaos.

He sat a few steps away, book in hand, Cloud curled loyally at his side, his gaze fixed on the children. 

That’s the problem, Jeda thought, lighting another cigarette. He’s here, but he’s not here. Always Risha’s shadow. Watching, protecting, but nothing else. That’s not living. That’s waiting for something to go wrong.

Smoke curled toward the desert sky. So how do you trick a man like that? You can’t push. I can’t offer him anything like I did with her. He’d laugh in my face. No, it has to be his idea. Something gradual. Something that feels like his choice all along.

Elon wasn’t a soldier. Never wanted to be. And he didn’t believe La Paz’s dream. In his eyes, harmony between races was a beautiful idea but an impossible one. He was a keeper of truths, cursed with his vision gift and the deliberate distance he kept from everything and everyone; carrying both like chains. The strongest sorcerer alive — sitting on the sand, letting himself be reduced to nothing more than a kid’s babysitter.

And that’s what kills me. He could change everything. How can I snap him out of it? 

Jeda flicked ash into the sand, leaning on a light pole. Step one: show him that. Make it seem like an accident, like I stumbled on a mess and thought of him. Step two: let him breathe it. He won’t be able to walk away. Step three: give him the illusion of choice. “If you want to, maybe take a look.” He’ll say yes. He’ll tell himself it’s temporary. Step four: make it his responsibility.

A grin tugged at his mouth. By the time he realizes it, he’ll be part of the Elite. And he’ll think it was his choice the whole time. Oh, Jeda. You’re a genius.

He pushed himself off the pole and started toward the beach.

“Now… where’s my half-prince hiding?” he said loud enough for the kids to hear.

Risha immediately turned, sword raised. “WAIT!” Reno pounced at his side, Haru trailing with a wide smile.

“Uncle Jeda!” Risha shouted. “Come fight us!”

Did he say ‘uncle’? Even better than ‘Commander’.“Tempting,” Jeda drawled, ruffling Reno’s hair as he passed, “but you are three and I’m just one. Not fair.”

He stopped in front of Elon, crouching slightly so his grin met those steady, deep sea eyes. “You know, if you don’t give the kid some space, you’ll smother him. Don’t you remember when you were little and your parents were just annoying?”

Elon’s gaze darkened, flicking away. His childhood had been nothing but politics and duty. He didn’t answer. He only closed his book, murmured to Cloud to stay close to the children, and rose.

Sensitive topic, noted. Jeda smirked. But I got you now. “Want to go and bother the new Commander of the troops?" he asked.

Without waiting for a reply, he started leading the way back toward the Academy grounds. He didn’t stop talking for a single second along the path. When they arrived, he pointed out Sukira in her shiny new role as Commander, joking about how she was already bossing around people twice her size. But Elon barely reacted. His eyes, however, kept drifting toward the unfinished structure of the Academy Tower.

Jeda noticed. And smiled wider. Right where I want you.

Jeda tugged —not so gently— at Elon’s shirt and jerked his chin toward the building. Their boots echoed against the freshly dried concrete as they entered the building. The air was cooler inside, carrying the scent of something new, unused.

Jeda pointed lazily as they passed. “Here’s a training room — boring. Empty lecture halls — even worse. Here a gym. Offices, half-furnished. Honestly, Sunshine, it’s all dull. I told Suki she can decide what to do with these later. Anyway—” He made to keep walking.

Elon stopped. His eyes had caught a door half-opened at the end of the corridor.

He stepped toward it, like something was calling him. Inside: shelves and crates stacked high. Books. Dozens. Hundreds. Maybe thousands.

Civilians had carried them from across the continents: battered family bibles, tomes of half-lost history, spell scrolls in leather, children's bed stories. Dominique had ordered the entire library from the lake house shipped here, floorboards and all. Aaron had sent crates from Eloria: elven records, maps, centuries-old texts.

It was a treasure. And no one had touched it. No catalog. No order.

The smell of dust clung to the air. Some of the volumes gave off a strange halo of magical energy, as if their pages were enchanted with something very, very ancient. That was probably what had called to Elon—strong enough for him to sense it from outside the building.

Jeda leaned against the doorframe, watching the way Elon’s eyes sharpened, the way his hands twitched almost involuntarily toward the spines.

“Mess, huh?” Jeda said casually, tapping ash into an empty crate. “Not my thing. But someone should do something with it. I’ll ask around for volunteers. Until then, the door stays open. Do as you please.” He clapped Elon lightly on the shoulder, grin back in place. “I need to run to a last meeting before the day ends. See you at dinner, Sunshine.”

And just like that, Jeda was gone, footsteps fading down the hall.

Elon stayed.

His fingers brushed spines at random — a Concordian atlas, a half-rotted Elven hymn book, a vampire codex bound in leather so brittle it cracked beneath his touch.

He exhaled, slow, and pulled the first book free.

♥︎

The night arrived, the only moment when the group could meet, after their duties. The Civil Quarter’s dining hall buzzed like a hive. The smell of roasted vegetables and spiced broth hung heavy in the air, mingled with laughter, shouts, and the clatter of dishes. Long tables stretched across the room, every bench filled with cadets, officers, civilians, and children. The noise was chaos, but a warm chaos, the kind that felt like family even when everyone was shouting over each other.

At the far table, the usual suspects had gathered.

Risha was climbing over the bench before his plate had even been set down. He had recently learned how to elevate small objects, and as usual, when he learned something new, he couldn’t stop showing it off. Reno shouted at him to quit it, breaking his concentration in an instant. Haru, taller than both, calmly caught the floating plate mid-air.

“Sit,” Ryn snapped from the head of the bench. Her tone lacked bite, her uniform rumpled, chains clinking as she leaned back in her chair.

“I like when you talk, Ryn,” Sukira muttered from across the table, about to say the same thing herself to the kids.

“You just say that because she’s turning into a mini-you,” Sami said, sweeping in with Eloise at her side, both balancing trays stacked too high. “Honestly, you’re all like children.”

“Better than being boring,” Jeda shot back, reaching to steal one of the rolls from Dominique’s tray. She smacked his hand with a fork before setting the food down.

Eloise slid into her seat, Kael and Zira trailing close behind. The new team hovered awkwardly until Jeda waved them in.

“Look at this,” he announced loudly. “Our little Eloise already has an entourage. How popular! Commander of medicine, savior of the sick, girls’ kisser—”

“Stop!” Eloise flushed scarlet. “They’re not my entourage, they’re my team.”

“Friends,” Kael corrected, already tearing into bread with his scarred hands. “And probably the only reason she ate lunch today.”

Zira smiled sweetly, though her eyes glittered sharp. “She works too hard. We have to remind her to stop.”

Eloise muttered something into her soup while Dominique patted her shoulder protectively.

“Speaking of people who worked too much…”, Dominique said.

Across the table, Tech finally appeared, long pink hair impeccable despite strands falling into his face. He collapsed onto the bench like he hadn’t slept in a week, muttering, “I was dragged here. Against my will. Nobody talk to me.”

Sami leaned over him, setting down a plate. “If I didn’t drag you… Eat.”

“I am eating,” Tech grumbled. “I’m multitasking in my head.”

“You’re multitasking starvation,” Sami said flatly.

That earned a laugh from Jeda. “Saints above, Sami, let him starve and die; save us all.”

Tech choked on his bread while Sami hurled a crust at Jeda’s head.

At the same time, Risha and Reno had started a new game: balancing forks on their noses. Reno crowed that his stayed longer, while Risha countered with magic to make his float.

“No magic,” Sukira barked without looking. Both boys groaned and collapsed back into laughter.

Haru handed each of them another fork. “Best of three.”

Axis joined late, sliding into the bench beside Jeda. “Five more families arriving from Elaris later this week,” he said matter-of-factly, snagging a cup of water. “Housing’s already stretched.”

Helena, the human civilian representative, leaned over from a nearby table to add, “Lucius says he’s doubling pace, but supplies won’t last if this flow keeps up.”

Dominique perked up. “We’ll sort it. Tech’s cooking up unbreakable concrete or something.”

Tech sniffed. “It’s not concrete, you ignorant. Composite infusion of—”

“Concrete,” Jeda interrupted.

“Concrete,” the table echoed in chorus, laughter drowning out Tech’s protest.

Sakura, the elven representative, raised his cup from further down. “And school begins in a month. We’ll need every hand. Teachers, materials, patience.”

“I’ll help!” Risha piped up, raising his hand.

“You’re a student,” Sukira corrected, while her thoughts betrayed her; she smiled. His heart is just too big; he can’t handle it. 

“But I can still help!” Risha argued. 

“I don’t want to go to school, I hate school,” Reno said, shaking his head furiously.

“I’ll help you study, don’t worry,” Haru said, smiling at him. Reno smiled back and nodded.

The table erupted in overlapping voices — jokes, complaints, half-serious debates about uniforms and whether lunch should include dessert. Someone teased Eloise about keeping Kael and Zira on too tight a leash. Sami teased Tech about doing ground training with Sukira, who immediately leaned back and refused. Jeda teased everyone, just to stir the pot.

And then, in a lull between laughter, Elon’s voice cut through, quiet but clear.

“I found something today.”

The noise dimmed slightly.

Elon approached from behind Sukira, hands full — a plate of food in one, a novel about a dragon warrior in the other. He set the book beside her hand before taking a seat next to her.

“Books,” he said, his voice tone was low, like he was intended only to talk to her. “A room full of them. From everywhere. No order. Books I’ve never even heard of.”

“A library?” Eloise asked, eyes lighting up.

He lifted his gaze, realizing that others were there — that the world wasn’t just the two of them. “Wouldn’t call it a library. More like…” He searched for the right term. “A mess. It needs to be organized.”

Jeda hid his smirk behind his drink. Step two: complete.

Sami clapped her hands, trying to keep the mood high. “Even Elon is having fun.”

“That’s… fun?” Reno whispered to Risha.

“Of course, books are super fun,” Haru replied smoothly, while Risha made a face of not really.

“YOU WERE THE ONE WHO BROKE UP WITH ME, REMEMBER?!”

Dominique’s voice exploded across the table. The hall went silent.

All eyes swung toward her. Ryn, at the far end, sat back, expression unreadable. She didn’t answer — just exhaled through her nose, rolled her eyes, and made a sharp ‘tch’ sound.

Dominique leaned forward, words tumbling out too fast. “You’ve been ripping me off with that deadly stair of yours and you didn’t even say hi. Not once. I arrived MONTHS ago.” 

“Oh, I understand the staring part,” Jeda said, grinning, raising his glass. “But I kinda like it”, he winked at Sukira and Elon, who, conveniently, were sitting next to each other. 

Everyone ignored Jeda’s words. 

“What do you want??” Dominique continued as Ryn was silent as a wall. 

“Domi–” Axis warned gently.

“Let her,” Jeda interrupted. “Maybe they’ll finally get it out.”

“Not here,” Sami cut in, firmer, glancing around the silent room, filled with kids.

But Dominique didn’t stop. “Say something. At least I don’t sit in silence, judging—”

Ryn finally moved — not to speak, but to rest her chin in her hand, gaze sliding to the side as if Dominique wasn’t even worth the effort, but her face was showing more complex emotions. 

The silence stretched, tense, until Eloise reached out under the table and gently wrapped her hand around Dominique’s.

“Domi,” she said softly, with a smile that was more plea than reprimand. “You’re making her uncomfortable. You should stop.”

Dominique froze, her mouth half-open, eyes flicking to Eloise’s.

The whole table seemed to hold its breath.

Dominique’s eyes darted between Eloise, Ryn, and the rest — then she shoved back her chair and stormed out, boots pounding against the floor.

Jeda leaned back, smirking, and tipped his glass toward Eloise. “Chop, chop. That’s your cue.” His gaze slid to Ryn. “Or yours.”

Ryn met Eloise’s eyes across the table. She didn’t move. Just rolled her shoulders, lifted her chin, and let her expression say everything: I’m not going after her.

Eloise hesitated — then stood. She gave Ryn a small, searching look, but when the half-vampire only averted her eyes, Eloise turned and followed Dominique out.

“Oh, spirits. I just love drama.” Sami said and with that, the table breathed again. 

♥︎

She found her a few corridors away, slumped against a wall near the stairwell that led to the bedroom area. Dominique’s shoulders shook once, twice, before she noticed Eloise approaching.

“I’m sorry,” Dominique muttered, swiping at her eyes. 

Eloise stopped a few paces away, soft smile never wavering. “For what?”

“For the scene,” Dominique snapped, then sighed, voice cracking. “She was my girlfriend.”

“I figured,” Eloise said gently.

Dominique laughed bitterly. “Of course you did. You’re smart. Smarter than me, anyway.”

“Why are you so angry?” Eloise asked, stepping closer.

Dominique pressed her hands into her hair, tugging slightly as if the pressure would stop the flood. “Because… after Suki disappeared, when I was a kid, Ryn was the only one left. Tech was always lost in his own world. My parents—” She stopped, swallowed hard. “I was an unloved child. But she was there. She was everything. My best friend, my—” Her voice caught. “And then one day she ended it. We graduated from school, and that was it. No explanation. Just gone.”

She slid down the wall to sit on the floor, voice low. “It happened years ago but I’ve never seen her again after that. And then we arrived here and I thought… I don’t know. I was expecting something. But she just stared at me. Like I was no one.”

Eloise lowered herself to the floor beside her, slipping her hand over Dominique’s. “Maybe she needs more time. Or maybe she needs to hear all these things you have to say”.

Dominique turned, eyes wet, lips trembling between anger and ache.

Eloise leaned closer, her smile soft as ever. “You don’t have to be unloved anymore.”

Dominique’s laugh broke into a sob, then into something else as Eloise pressed a kiss to her lips — slow, gentle, grounding. When they pulled back, Dominique rested her forehead against Eloise’s, holding on like she was afraid to let go.

“You’re incredible,” Dominique whispered. “Head of medicine, the greatest white magician, and somehow mine.”

Eloise flushed, but didn’t pull her hand away. “I’m proud of you too, Domi. Really proud.”

Dominique laced their fingers together, gripping tight. For the first time in years, she felt steady.

They sat there a moment longer, hand in hand, while the muffled chaos of the dining hall faded into the distance.

♥︎

The unfinished rooftop of the Command Tower was quiet, wind cutting cold across the desert and rattling loose scaffolding. Sukira sat on the edge, one leg dangling over the drop, black hoodie zipped halfway up, white undershirt and black satin pajama shorts –half pajamas, half ready to fight.; cigarette glowing in her hand.

She didn’t turn when the sheet door creaked open.

“You bring company?” she muttered.

Sami stepped out first, hair loose, wearing a black sweater over loose white undershirt and gray cotton pants tucked into warm socks. “Not intentionally. He thought I didn’t notice him following me.”

Jeda appeared behind her, barefoot, sleeves rolled up on a black undershirt and pants hanging low on his hips. Not a part of his body was plain skin, he was all tattoos. He spread his arms in mock innocence, grin sharp in the moonlight. “What can I say? Subtlety is my middle name.”

“You’re about as subtle as Reno on sugar,” Sukira deadpanned, taking a drag.

“That hurts, Commander.” Jeda pressed a hand to his chest dramatically, though his grin stayed.

Before Sami could quip back, the air rippled cold and Elon materialized on the rooftop. He wore simple black pajama trousers, a long-sleeved loose undershirt, and his hair was messy as usual. His eyes swept over them, unimpressed.

“Even Sunshine is here! Now, this is a party,” Jeda said, hugging Elon, who, for some reason, didn’t pull him away this time. 

Sukira let smoke curl out with a snort, looking at the two men looking at her, “It seems I can’t get a moment of privacy”. 

“Privacy? Since we arrived in La Paz I haven’t had a second of peace. If you want quiet, you’ll need to go claim your own desert.” Sami laughed. 

“A whole desert… better than this circus,” Elon muttered, but the corner of his mouth twitched.

Jeda laughed, leaning more to Elon, showing he was starting to feel the cold. “Imagine that: Elon, King of Sa(n)d Dunes. The loneliest monarch alive.”

Sami folded down beside Sukira, pulling her sweater tighter. “Admit it, you like the circus, Elon. You wouldn’t keep showing up if you didn’t.”

Elon arched a brow, arms crossed against the cold. “Teleporting into chaos isn’t proof of affection. It's a habit.”

Sukira smirked. “Then break the habit. Stay away.”

His deep sea eyes fixed on her, steady, unreadable. She returned the gaze at him, as a challenge. 

“Ohhh, the staring contest begins. Wait, wait, I want to be in the middle”. 

The four of them stayed there — all in mismatched pajamas, hoodies tugged up, breath fogging faint in the cold — talking about nothing and everything. Killing time. 

♥︎