Celebration was never part of the routine, especially for a rider in Basgiath. But that night, the cadets were scattered throughout Samara’s Tavern after successfully enduring a week full of challenges.

The rustic place was filled with laughter and the sound of voices blending with music, carrying the scent of burning wood through the air.

As chaotic as it was, it offered a rare chance to let go, just for one night, of everything that had been threatening their lives.

You rest against one of the pillars, holding a cup of the local brew, letting its familiar taste bring a quiet sense of ease. Around you, friends are dancing, talking, and losing themselves in this brief escape from routine. At that moment, you smile, feeling a gentle warmth through your body while your flight jacket hangs from a nearby chair.

It’s when your eyes meet his across the crowded room that your smile softens. Garrick’s gaze finds yours and doesn’t waver, as though the noise and movement around you have faded away.

The relic on your wrist — a reminder of the rebellion — gives off a faint shimmer, and you try to convince yourself it has nothing to do with him. You and Garrick have known each other for so long that it feels natural to seek each other out in any crowd.

Well... almost natural.

It was in your second year that you realized something inside you had begun to shift whenever he was near. Instead of admitting it, you buried it deep down, because riders weren’t meant to carry distractions like that. At least, that’s what you’d always believed.

But with every close call you survived together, with every late-night flight to Athebyne or shared talk about the rebellion, that feeling only grew stronger.

You knew every steady, loyal side of him and the parts that carried quiet pain. He wasn’t just the leader of your sector now, in the third year, he was your closest friend. And he knew every detail that could make you laugh, roll your eyes, or go silent when words failed.

For a moment, your heart gives a quicker beat, and the warmth in your chest deepens, though you prefer to believe it’s because of the drink.

Did he mean to find you, or did your eyes just meet by chance? The thought barely has time to settle before Garrick smiles and starts walking toward you.

Your pulse steadies, but your chest feels light, because deep down, you know he’d never avoid you. He’d find you anywhere, even at the edge of the world. Or, in this case, in a tavern full of cadets eager to make choices they’d either laugh about or rethink the next morning.