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Xaden has reached his limit.
Back to back field missions for the last few weeks. Two venin battles this week alone. Three riders in his unit lost. He doesn't sleep well on a normal night, but in a tent still haunted by the screams of his fellow riders? He hasn't slept at all for several nights. But now he's on his way home.
Only for one night, but at least that would be one night with Violet. And fuck it, maybe the kitchen would have his favorite chocolate cake. He needs a large slice of chocolate cake after the week he's had. Maybe some comfort food will take the edge off his mood and let him sleep.
“Hold on, Shadowed One. We're almost there.”
His head jerks up as he startles awake. He must be more exhausted than he thought if he's falling asleep on Sgaeyl. He can feel the tingles of Sgaeyl's magic up his legs, holding him in place. She's never had to do that before, but he doesn't remember the last time he was this tired. Definitely before bonding.
He can see Aretia up ahead. Then Riorson House comes into view. Sgaeyl brings him all the way to the courtyard, even landing fully to allow him to slide down her leg. A guard nearby looks like he's about to say something about dragons landing so close to civilians, but one look from Xaden shuts him up.
Alright. Priorities.
Cake. Shower. Bed.
The cake has to come first or he won't make it back out of his room.
He storms into the house, down the halls towards the kitchen. Cadets mingling in the hallway scurry around corners at the sight of him. Normally he takes a bit of pride in how much fear he instills in them, but today he can't even bring himself to care.
He pushes open the door to the kitchen. It's mid-afternoon and the smell of fresh bread for dinner greets him like an old friend. He finds the head chef, Mrs. Brown, a matronly woman who has known Xaden since he was a child.
“Ah, Mr. Xaden!” Finally, someone who's excited to see him instead of afraid of him. “What can I get for you? You look like you haven't had a hot meal in weeks!”
“I haven't, actually. I was hoping you had some chocolate cake around.”
“Oh my dear, I'm so sorry. The one from yesterday is gone, and we're out of cocoa powder. Our last shipment of baking supplies got delayed by an attack on the border.”
Well fuck. Why can't something just be easy for once? He runs his hands over his face in exasperation, hoping maybe rubbing his eyes might help him wake up enough for this conversation. Apparently today's just not his day.
“Oh! I do have some pancake batter left from breakfast. I can put some chocolate chips in it like I used to make when you were little. I know it's not the same as cake but it's the best I can do right now.”
Xaden tries to smile at her, but he's so tired his lips barely twitch up.
“That would be wonderful, Mrs. Brown. Thank you. I'll be back for them in a few minutes.”
He excuses himself to the bathroom nearby, splashing some cold water on his face on his way out. Soon. So soon he will be back in his room, warm pancakes on his plate and his girl in his arms.
When he walks back into the kitchen several minutes later, Mrs. Brown has her back to him, fussing over some component of dinner on the stove. He coughs gently and she turns towards him.
“Oh good. I just finished your pancakes and put them on that plate right over–”
There is no plate on the counter.
Xaden turns, looking around the room for anywhere else it could be. He spots a cadet he doesn't know, a first year, based on his badges, popping a bite of pancake into his mouth. Xaden's pancakes. The pancakes specifically made for Xaden.
He's reached his breaking point. This is the last straw.
Is it really too much to ask for just one godsdamned thing for himself? Who does this pathetic cadet even think he is?
Shadows fly out away from Xaden. He hears something clatter to the ground and someone screaming behind him. He's not even controlling these shadows, they're just searching for something to latch on to. He can feel the fear of the cadet as his shadows wrap around his throat.
“XADEN!” He hears the bellow behind him but he ignores it.
“Xaden,” the voice repeats in a calmer but shaking tone. It's closer now. He feels a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Xaden, let him go. You're scaring the poor boy.”
Wait. Fuck. What is he doing? His shadows try to fight back but he forces them to drop the cadet and retreat to him.
He just almost killed a cadet. In his own house. Over pancakes. How did this happen? It's too much. The lack of sleep is clearly catching up with him. How would he even begin to explain this to the assembly?
All those assembly members are right after all. How am I supposed to run a revolution if I can't even handle someone taking my food? I'm a threat to all of Aretia if I can't pull it together. All of Tyrrendor, if I let my exhaustion get the best of me. This is why it's better just to never allow myself to want anything. The rejection turns me into a monster.
He falls to the floor, his shadows wrapping him in a cocoon.
Violet is sitting in history class, the last class of the day before she can escape to the quiet of her room, when it hits her. First waves of exhaustion that have her nearly hitting her head on her desk. Then a punch of anger that knocks the breath right out of her. Then fear. Overwhelming fear. Her whole body tenses in response, her grip on her pen threatening to snap it in half. Then…what is this feeling?
“Tairn? What's happening?”
“This isn't me, Silver One.”
“Andarna?”
“She found a new flock of sheep this morning. I'd continue to shield her out if I were you. In my experience, you humans prefer not to be subjected to our feelings while grazing.”
“Gross.”
Violet looks into her archives. The door blocking Tairn is solid. Andarna's window is shut tight, though she pushes it firmly again just to make sure. Then she looks up.
Where normally Xaden's shadows would be circling gently around the ceiling, she now sees complete chaos. Shadows are undulating across the ceiling, whirling around each other frantically. She knows instantly where the strange waves of emotions are coming from.
“Xaden?” No answer. Just a sense of panic unlike anything she's experienced before. Violet’s never felt emotions like this from Xaden, only ever from her dragons. Something catastrophic must be happening to send Xaden into such a spiral. Venin, maybe, or something with the wards. Is someone dying?
As soon as she recovers from the shocks of pain, she's up and running out of the room. “Vi, what–” But she's gone before Rhiannon can even finish her sentence.
Where is he? She glances in the direction of their room, but it's not coming from that wing of the house. She moves towards the assembly room, following the pull of the bond the best she can. But as she reaches the assembly room she can tell he's not in there. What happened to him if it's not Ulices pissing him off?
She keeps going. Down, down, until she reaches the kitchen door. She can feel him just out of reach. As she pushes open the door, she's greeted with destruction. Tables are flipped, pots and pans litter the floor. The kitchen staff is cowering along the back wall, glancing towards–
A ball of shadows sits in the middle of the floor. The…whatever she's feeling is radiating off it. A first year she vaguely recognizes is backed up against the nearby wall, holding his throat.
“Xaden?” She approaches slowly, not sure yet if the shadows will lash out at her. They reach towards her and pull her into the cocoon. Xaden sits inside, curled up with his knees against his chest. He looks up at her, his eyes wet with the tears streaming down his face. Despair. That's what this feeling is.
“Xaden,” she whispers, reaching up to wipe the tears from his cheek. “What happened? Talk to me. Please.”
“Violet? P..p..pancakes.”
What. The. Fuck.