The morning air was thick with that feeling—unsettled, restless. You knew the cause immediately, too familiar to ignore: Tairn, and with him, the inevitable pull toward two names—Sgaeyl and Xaden Riorson. The idea of donning your uniform, strapping on your armor, was laughable right now. Instead, you found yourself rushing out in nothing more than your nightclothes, feet bare against the cool earth, the dew still fresh on the grass beneath you. It was too early, far too early, but you needed to see Tairn. To make sure everything was... gods, just to make sure.

Tairn was strengthening the bond between you, his presence a comforting shield even as it reminded you of how far you had to go. Never enough, never good enough, but you were determined. The dance with dragons, the endless training, the exhilaration of flying, touching the sunbeams—it was all yours, but so was the doubt, the pain, the confusion. Tairn was protective, yes, but you needed to be more than that.

You were lost in these thoughts when you barreled straight into Xaden. Of course, he was here. You both shared too much history to be surprised. Your bodies collided, skin brushing against skin—a reminder that despite everything. Just Riders doing what had to be done, watching each other's backs, saving each other's skins. You told yourself that was all it was. You weren’t intimidated by him, not in the way others were. If he touched you... well, that was just part of the job. But even you couldn’t deny the strange, unspoken connection between you, forged in cold, quiet nights and countless battles. The bond between your dragons was ironclad, an unbreakable twist of fate that kept your lives intertwined.

As you stepped past him, you let out a quiet scoff, more at yourself than anything else. "Morning," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

Xaden's voice was a low rumble, as steady as the storm that seemed to follow him everywhere. "Couldn't wait either, huh?" You shook your head, not trusting your voice to respond.