Falconreach lay beneath a quiet night.
Moonlight spilled across the training grounds in pale silver, turning the stone walls and canvas tents into soft silhouettes. Lanterns hung along the outer posts, their dim flames flickering like captive fireflies. Some trainees rested near the camps, too exhausted to speak. Others gathered in small circles, their laughter low and tired, as if even relief required caution here.
At the far edge of the grounds, away from the clusters and noise, Eylra sat alone.
She had chosen a place where the shadows thinned and the sky opened wide. Above her, the stars stretched across the dark like scattered shards of light. The wind was cool, brushing against her face, carrying with it the faint scent of damp earth and woodsmoke.
"Eylra… why are you sitting here alone?"
Mireya's voice came softly from behind.
Eylra did not turn immediately. Her gaze remained on the sky a moment longer before she looked back.
"I like the night," she said simply.
"The stars are clearer when everything else is quiet. I came for a while."
Mireya followed her gaze upward.
The sky was unusually clear. Stars pulsed faintly between drifting clouds, and the moon hung steady among them, bright but distant. For a moment, neither of them spoke. The wind moved through the camp, gentle and cold.
Then Mireya exhaled.
"I noticed something today,"
she said, still looking at the sky. "Cael… cares about you more than he admits."
Eylra gave a small laugh. Not mocking. Not surprised.
"Does he?" she asked lightly.
"What made you think that?"
Mireya turned to her fully now, brows knitting together.
"Eylra… you saw it," she said. "When you slipped. When Varric caught you. Cael looked like he was ready to step between you and the ground itself."
"He was being a good friend,"
Eylra replied. "Nothing more."
"You're seeing it and choosing not to," Mireya said quietly. She drew in a slow breath.
"You're ignoring it."
They were not alone.
A third presence lingered somewhere beyond the lantern light, silent enough to go unnoticed by most. Listening. Not intruding just… present.
Eylra tilted her head slightly, then looked back at Mireya.
"You think too much," she said. "Can I say something?"
Mireya brightened immediately.
"Of course."
"You and Nivel are the same,"
Eylra said calmly.
"Both of you panic before anything even happens. "
Mireya stared at her, stunned.
"Eylra—!" she protested.
"I am nothing like Nivel."
Eylra laughed softly. The sound was brief but genuine.
"What's happening here?"
Thessa's voice joined them as she approached from behind, arms folded loosely.
Mireya turned to her at once.
"You tell me," she demanded.
"Am I like Nivel?"
Thessa paused. Considered.
Eylra watched with quiet amusement.
"…You want an honest answer?"
Thessa asked.
"Why are you thinking about it?"
Mireya shot back, scandalized.
That broke whatever composure remained. Eylra and Thessa both laughed—quietly, but enough to ease the tension.
"No," Thessa said at last.
"There is no one quite like you, Mireya. Now tell me—what were you two discussing?"
Mireya pointed toward Eylra immediately.
"I told her Cael clearly cares about her more than a friend should,"
she said.
"She insists it means nothing. Do you really think it means nothing?"
Thessa's expression shifted. Not dramatic. Just thoughtful.
"What happened today cannot be ignored,"
she said carefully. "But… it is complicated."
"See?" Mireya cut in quickly. "I told you -"
"Let me finish," Thessa said.
She turned to Eylra.
"It is not a simple matter,"
she continued.
"A royal heir does not… casually form attachments beyond certain lines. Cael is the prince of Aethryn. One day he will rule. You-" she hesitated, choosing her words with care " ..you are noble, yes. But not royal."
Silence followed.
"If what Mireya says is true," Thessa went on, "and if he feels more than friendship… what then? What would you do?"
Eylra did not answer at once.
Her face remained calm. Unreadable. No flicker of discomfort. No denial either.
The quiet stretched just long enough to feel awkward.
Thessa shifted slightly.
"I'm sorry," she said. "If that was too direct. It's just… people talk. They noticed how he reacted today. Among friends, it may feel normal. But beyond that… it won't be."
Eylra stood.
"I know," she said.
"But we are just friends."
Her voice was steady. Certain.
"Cael wasn't always the way he is now," she added after a moment. "I've seen him change. That's all. What others think doesn't concern me."
She gave a small smile soft, but real.
"And nothing you said was wrong."
With that, she turned and began walking back toward the camp.
Thessa and Mireya watched her go in silence.
There was no visible tension in her shoulders. No sign she was troubled. Yet something about the stillness in her expression suggested thoughts she chose not to share.
"Are we just going to stand here?"
Eylra called over her shoulder after a few steps. "You came to get me, didn't you?"
Mireya blinked, then hurried after her.
Thessa followed more slowly.
Behind them, at the edge of lantern light, a shadow shifted.
Whoever had been listening did not step forward.
Did not speak.
Did not reveal themselves.
Only watched the three figures return toward the glow of Falconreach....
The bonfire burned low at the center of the Falconreach camp, its flames steady rather than wild. Lanterns hung along the outer posts, casting a scattered glow that made the clearing look like a field of grounded fireflies. Some trainees rested in loose groups. Others laughed too loudly—fatigue disguised as ease.
Eylra, Mireya, and Thessa walked back toward their companions.
Rowan sat near the fire, turning a small stick through the embers. Nivel lounged beside him, posture relaxed in appearance only. Cael stood slightly apart, half-lit by the firelight, as if he had never fully left the training field.
When Nivel spotted the three approaching, a faint smile crossed his face.
Mireya noticed it immediately and turned her head the other way. She moved past the group and sat on the far side of the fire, deliberately choosing a place where she would not have to face him.
Nivel's smile faltered.
That… was new.
He watched her for a second longer than necessary, then looked away, confusion settling in quietly.
"Where were you three?" Rowan asked, glancing up as they approached.
"Not far," Thessa answered, brushing dust from her sleeves. "Just a quieter spot outside the main camp."
"That sounds like Eylra's idea," Cael said without looking at her.
Mireya lifted a brow.
"How do you know that?"
Nivel gave a small shrug.
"Because they actually talk to each other," he said. "That's usually how people know things."
Mireya's mouth tightened. She didn't respond. Instead, she fixed her attention on the fire as though it required intense study. The irritation on her face had nothing to do with the question and everything to do with who had spoken.
Nivel noticed.
He definitely noticed.
He leaned back slightly, studying her with open confusion.
Varric, seated on a low crate near the edge of the circle, observed the exchange without turning his head fully. His gaze moved from Mireya to Nivel, then to Eylra. Calculating spacing. Reactions. Patterns.
Then he spoke.
"How long have you two known each other?" he asked calmly, looking between Eylra and Cael. "If it isn't an unwelcome question."
The fire cracked softly.
Cael's attention shifted toward him. Not defensive. Not surprised. Just measured.
Eylra did not answer immediately. She lowered herself onto one of the rough benches, posture composed, hands resting loosely in her lap.
"A few years," she said at last.
"Before Falconreach?"
"Yes."
Rowan looked mildly interested now.
"So you already knew each other before training began."
"Not well," Cael added. "Circumstances were… different then."
That answer satisfied no one and everyone at once.
Mireya finally glanced up from the fire, curiosity overtaking her irritation.
"And now?" she asked lightly. "You know each other well now?"
A brief pause.
Eylra met her gaze.
"Well enough."
The ambiguity hung in the air.
Nivel shifted, still distracted by Mireya's earlier reaction. He opened his mouth as if to speak to her directly, then thought better of it. Instead, he looked toward the flames.
Varric watched all of this with quiet attention.
Not the words.
The silences between them.
"Falconreach accelerates familiarity," he said mildly. "Shared risk tends to do that."
Rowan snorted softly.
"That's one way to phrase it."
Thessa folded her arms, glancing between them all.
"Whatever tomorrow brings, we should sleep while we can. Speculation won't make it easier."
"True," Cael agreed.
Eylra stood first.
The others followed gradually, the loose circle breaking apart as fatigue reclaimed them.
The atmosphere in the other camp was far more serious.
Where the trainees' camp held tired laughter and restless relief, this one held tension and restraint. Lantern light shifted across the canvas walls, throwing long, unsteady shadows.
A man stood near the center table Falconreach's Headmaster. His voice was low, controlled.
"What you did… was it truly necessary?"
Across from him stood a woman with her hands clasped behind her back. Straight posture. Composed.
Ms. Frostvale.
"I had eyes on them," she replied calmly.
The Headmaster's gaze sharpened.
"Ms. Frostvale," he said, placing weight on her name, "whether you were physically present or not is irrelevant to the risk. If panic had broken out among them in that forest, the situation could have escalated quickly. You know that."
"The situation was under control," Frostvale answered.
"Even if I was not standing before them, I was observing. The exercise was deliberate. I needed to see how they function without visible oversight how much unity they possess when they believe they are alone."
She paused briefly before continuing.
"In the coming months, they will not be training only among themselves. Delegations from other territories and allied academies will arrive. There will be joint trials. Competition. Cooperation under pressure. This was not recklessness. It was a controlled test."
The Headmaster moved from behind his desk and stood upright, folding his arms.
"Ms. Frostvale, you are aware that Falconreach does not train common soldiers alone. Noble houses send their heirs here. Some of them are of royal blood. If an incident had occurred "
"It did not," she said quietly.
Silence settled for a moment.
Finally, he exhaled.
"From this point forward, I expect to be informed before you conduct exercises of this nature. I trust your judgment. But I will not be placed in the position of explaining unnecessary risk to the Crown or to the noble houses."
Frostvale inclined her head slightly.
"Understood. It will not happen again without prior notice. You will have no cause for complaint."
The Headmaster studied her for another second, then gave a short nod.
"See that I don't."
Frostvale turned to leave.
Her expression did not change.
Cael drew the whetstone slowly along the edge of his sword.
He lifted the blade close to his face, studying the reflection running along the steel.
"Sharp enough," he murmured. "Exactly how it should be."
Varric, who had been leaning against a pillar nearby, heard him and scoffed lightly.
"You're preparing like you're marching into a war."
Without looking up, Cael replied,
"A warrior should always be prepared."
Varric's lips curved into a crooked smile.
"According to you, preparation only means sharpening a sword?"
Cael rose to his feet, turning toward him.
"A warrior's sword is his first guard. His shield before all else."
"And if I prove you wrong?" Varric challenged, pushing himself off the pillar.
"I'd like to see how you manage that," Cael answered, a spark of fire settling in his eyes as they locked onto Varric's.
For a moment, neither of them spoke. The air tightened.
"Tomorrow. Battle ground," Cael said.
Varric nodded once. "After training. Evening."
"No excuses. No matter how hard the training is," Cael added.
"Done."
They spoke the word at the same time.
Just then, Rowan stepped inside.
The tension in the room was unmistakable. One glance between the two was enough for him to understand what tomorrow would bring.
But he said nothing.
As if he had heard nothing at all, Rowan simply walked to his place and carried on.
Author: Kris