Chapter Text
Rilienus
9:20 Dragon, Carastes Circle of Magi
Running, tripping over the hem of his robes, winding through marbled halls to a verdant courtyard ringed with rose bushes. He’d liked to sit on the benches, holding his palm out for larks, alone in the shade with his legs crossed. A place to think, usually. Meditate. Practice the little ice vines his mother had taught him and draw shadows towards him like a cloak.
Not now, not when there were jeering voices calling after him, ricocheting across the ramparts. He panted, looking panicked around the high-walled courtyard. No escape. No more doors he could slip through and keep running. Dead end. Apt name for his situation; he doubted Giles would be gentle.
No time to climb, no time to scurry up a tree, slow, heavy footfalls were closing in on him. Rilienus breathed deeply, pulse pounding in his ears. His mother would’ve said he wasn’t ready to use this spell. His father would’ve said he should confront his attackers head-on or it’d just happen again. But there were five of them, bigger boys, angry boys, and Rilienus had embarrassed Giles, the biggest and meanest of them all, by piping up with the proper sequence to brew a laughing draught when the older boy had stammered.
Giles smirked when he passed under the archway to the courtyard. He lifted his hand and a cruel looking stone liberated itself from the ground, hovering in the air. Force, a brutal, brutish sort of magic. That was apt, too, Rilienus thought bleakly. His companions followed suit, nearly a half dozen rocks floating in midair.
Rilienus exhaled a shaky breath, then split the seams of reality, slipping into the shadows and vanishing from sight. The Fade tugged him in all directions, threatening to split him in two or three or seven, but he ran along the edge of the Veil, watching the hazy outline of his attackers turn their heads in confusion, their voices muffled.
And then he heard screaming as Giles’ cloak burst into flames. The bullies tried to stamp out the growing fires, but their own clothing caught as well, until Rilienus’ bullies were rolling around on the ground like worms.
The smallest, newest addition to the Circle stepped from the hall, his fingertips coated in violet flame, hair dark as a raven’s wing. “Leave him alone, or next time I won’t miss,” the young boy stood over Giles and the other bullies, his face twisted with fury. He snapped his fingers and the flames guttered all at once. “I don’t think you’ll fancy that very much.”
Rilienus saw his opening, saying a silent prayer as he slipped out of the door and sprinted back to the dormitories, hiding under his quilt until the bells chimed for evening prayers.
He didn’t learn the boy’s name until after the brave little fool was gone, expelled from Carastes Circle for the incident in the courtyard. For trying to protect him .
Not that he needed protection. He could weave shadows, now, slipping into the hollow between the waking world and the realm of dreams, winding along its edge, just as his mother had taught him. He could exact his revenge against Giles and his flock of fools at a time of his choosing.
But he’d never forget those eyes, endless pools of brilliant moonlight, under thick, furrowed brows, angry at injustice, fighting back when all Rilienus could do was run.
He’d never forget that name .
Dorian Pavus was his first friend, even if they’d never so much as spoken a word.