The Storm We Start || Book One

Chapter Thirty: Words Between Brothers

"Sir?"

Noctifer looked up from his post. A dragonkind stood a few feet away from him, fidgeting slightly as his emerald green eyes darted to the side before looking Noctifer in the eyes again. The dragonkind didn't look any older than twenty, but Noctifer knew that the other could've been closer to fifty or sixty.

"I'm here to take over the shift," the dragonkind continued, and Noctifer nodded his acknowledgment before moving from his spot, letting the young man take his place.

Without another word—the young man would've been debriefed earlier if this was his first time for a night shift—Noctifer made his way back to his tent to get at least a few hours of sleep. He was accustomed to sleeping in short intervals, at least, but he couldn't help but inwardly sigh as he saw someone sitting by one of the main fires, hunched over so their forearms rested atop their knees. He wouldn't be getting much sleep tonight.

While it was hard to make out the other's features in the firelight—barriers surrounded the campsite that hid the light from the fires—the strands of snow-white hair was unmistakable. He could see others skirting around Ordephus, not daring to bother him, but at least someone had the mind to drape a blanket over the legend's shoulders.

Probably Tarkana, Noctifer noted. Tarkana had a knack for embroidering, and the closer he got, he could see the delicate ornamental pattern on the corners. Ordephus didn't react as he approached, even when Noctifer sat directly next to him on the log. That was until Noctifer pulled the blanket over Ordephus' still-damp hair.

Ordephus tried to blink the spots in his vision away before looking at the other bemused. "What was that for?"

"Hasn't anyone told you you'll catch a cold if you don't dry your hair properly?"

"Didn't take you to be such a mother hen," Ordephus joked, turning his gaze into the fire once again. "It's almost dry, anyway."

They both continued to stare silently into the fire. It wasn't often when they had their spats, anymore. They were too tired to take anything beyond a firm disagreement or halfhearted taunts. Yet Noctifer couldn't help but notice a few things about the other from the corner of his eye.

Sometimes it was easy to forget how old Ordephus was, even with the pale hair and moments like these where Ordephus looked to be much older. The flickering light emphasized the slight lines on his face; a small frown and a crease between his brow. His spellbook was carefully balanced on his lap along with white sleeves draped around it. Noctifer knew how bloody a battle could be, so it made sense that the legend had cleaned up and changed. He supposed he could've excused how the lace at Ordephus' collar remained untied if the other was going to bed. It was nearly midnight, however, and Ordephus still remained out in the open.

"Back in that cell, you said there was something undeniably good about me."

Noctifer jerked his head to stare at Ordephus. Why is he bringing that up now? It was alarming, to say the least, especially as Ordephus' hands clenched into fists.

"Well, you were wrong. There's nothing good about me; nothing inherently good about anyone. I just know what I believe is right and what's wrong, and I have no problem accomplishing my goals using whatever method I can, whether that's conversation, manipulation, or war."

Noctifer said nothing. He knew it was best to let Ordephus finish what he had to say before making any judgment. The legend had an annoying habit of not getting to the point until the end of an entire rant, but after traveling with the other for so long, he knew there was a reason behind it. Half of the time, not even Ordephus knew what the point was as so many thoughts blazed through his mind. Sometimes, Ordephus needed someone to listen and let him gather his ideas into something cohesive as he rambled. Noctifer usually rolled his eyes at these times and had Iver do the listening instead, but something about how Ordephus started his sentence told him only he alone would be able to understand.

"I can't say I like it when someone praises me for doing the right thing. I've lived for a long time, and history tends to repeat itself. Different scenarios, same situation, I only know what will work and prefer to look at the bigger picture rather than focus on individuals. Hah...but it never seems to work out that way. People still matter to me, and I wouldn't hesitate to wipe out an entire city if it meant protecting one person, even if I know they'll leave for the afterlife eventually. I'm truly a terrible person when you look at it that way.

"You know, even if Argent is ten or eleven years old, for dragonkind, he's practically a toddler. It's hard to catch sometimes, only when he's acting particularly childish or throwing a mild tantrum, but you can't fault him too much since he's supposed to act like that. And damn it all, I should've known better!"

Noctifer could almost feel Ordephus' frustration bleeding off of him in waves. Perhaps it was only Ordephus' repressed power leaking through the barrier set around his being. His eyes, however, remained neutral, the fire reflecting into his red eyes seeming almost soft instead of a raging furnace as his tone suggested.

Ordephus let out a rueful laugh. "Even if it was practically a millennia ago, I still remember what it's like to be raised as an adult while still being very much a child. Hell, with being the direct descendant of a dragon, I shouldn't have been considered an adult until I was nearing 200, and by then, I was already at the brink of death after using so much of my lifeforce. The least I could've done for Argent was to allow him to be a child. I know that, realistically, I could never give him back his innocence, but...I should've never dragged him to a battlefield."

"So you've talked to him, then," Noctifer said, finally understanding what Ordephus was trying to say.

Ordephus unclenched his fists, and his head hung just a bit more as the tenseness drained from his body. "I have. And he's staying here from now on."

Noctifer only hummed in agreement, turning his gaze back to the fire.

It was only the sounds of the forest and crackling fire before Ordephus spoke again.

"You know I don't plan on staying here once all this is over, right?"

The hairs on the back of Noctifer's neck raised as a form of dread flooded his veins. He didn't like where the conversation was going, especially after what was said before, but he played it off as if Ordephus meant something else entirely. Perhaps he was mistaken and was looking too deeply into the legend's words.

"No one's forcing you to stay in Langerich after this," Noctifer said. "You do better when you're left to wander."

"That's not what I mean, Noctifer."

Noctifer inhaled slowly before raising his head to meet Ordephus' eyes.

"Then why?" Noctifer never knew his voice could be so quiet, but something deep within him, some hidden emotion he tried to smother since he left his family behind, twisted painfully, even if it didn't show on his face. He was not one to make friends easily, but one thought rang clear:

He was saying goodbye to a brother.

"I'm not blind to it. People are scared of me," Ordephus replied, casting his gaze back to the ground, ashamed. "And that scares me. From the very beginning, it was made clear that if the people can't control what they deem powerful, they'll do anything to exterminate it. After this is over, there's no doubt in my mind that the rest will turn on me next. I...I can't have that happen again. It hurt too much, and I don't think I'd survive if it happened again."

Noctifer didn't miss the way Ordephus' breathing turned ragged, and he tried to reassure him by laying a hand on his shoulder. "And you think I would do that?"

Ordephus' voice was barely above a whisper. "Utoria did."

Noctifer didn't know what to say after that, not even after the fire had long since burnt out and the sun began peeking over the horizon.

END OF BOOK ONE

Word count: 1419