Chapter Text
The lands of Miyagi: at first glance, a peaceful, serene area of Japan, if not for the powerful tribes residing in its depths. Called home by many, it is run by only five. On a high mountainside stands the breathtaking view of the Shiratorizawa Cliffs , home to the fearsome and strong Shiratorizawa tribe. With no doubt is it the most powerful of the five main tribes, with only the most revered warriors and magicians taken in to learn its secrets. Out of a small cavern below the cliff spills a raging, sky blue waterfall- the source of fresh water of every tribe, winding its way across the land in the form of a large and long river- surely the heart of Miyagi itself. On the side of this forged river lays Fukurodani Woods , maintained by the strange and sociable Fukurodani tribe. Holding control of large parts of the river and centering itself in most of the tribes has its benefits- for the Fukurodani tribe loves to communicate with the others and trade, and most underestimate its capability. Where the river breaks and bends, it also splits apart the Seijoh Grounds , where the noble Seijoh tribe begins its empire. Reserved, but also aggressive, cool and calculating but also intimidating, Seijoh truly has a well-rounded tribe, and one trait associated with the members is determination. They’re always working to their fullest potential. Back down the river sits the Nekoma Village , a quaint place built by the intelligent and crafty Nekoma tribe. Bordered by the Unforgivable Forest, Nekoma Village is considered to be the most sophisticated of the five tribes, with their own deep culture and practices tracing back centuries into the past. On the other side of the forest that no one dares to venture into, high up on the top of a plateau resides the Karasuno Ruins , which is host to the odd and powerful Karasuno tribe. Some say from their observation point way up high, they watch tribes fight and conquer, and take brilliant tactics for themselves. But up until just recently, no one knew their name. And to them, it seems as if suddenly they had appeared. Spontaneous and unpredictable defines the tribe in its wholesome.
Long ago, back so many generations that any memories of the past are just blurs of the mind and lost transcript, a secret power began wiping through the source of the earth and stretching its fingers to the arc of the vast sky above, transforming the world in its wake. Magic began seeping through the roots of every tree, into the cracks between the dirt, flowing through every drop of water and soon transfixing into the minds and souls of humans themselves. Life changed quickly for everyone as the world became the host of magical innovation and exploration. During these strange times, tribes among similar groups of people were formed and many of these groups sectioned themselves off from one another. Even those who were struck down by the cruel hands of poverty before now were flourishing. The lands were in a massive state of change and no one could ever imagine that it was about to take a sharp turn for the worse.
Alongside the wonders of pure magic was an evil spirit, slipping its way through frail hearts, possessing anyone who wavered on the threshold between good and evil. A dark leader rose quickly in power, also respected by all in awe of his strength and wisdom. When the spirit clasped a hold of his heart and tugged at an loose heartstring, what was left of the leader’s innocence and hope dissolved into nothing but pure hatred for everyone beneath him. He used his power to turn many others under his name, effectively splitting the world in two halves and pitting them against each other. It was an all out war between all that is good and all that is evil, and when the dust cleared, few had survived.
The remaining people called for peace, overthrowing the corrupt leader and beginning to reform civilization. Realizing the world needed to be the way it was before the leader, the survivors broke into new tribes and set off to strive independently.
Since then, many, many more tribes have formed. But the originals still remain, the five in control of Miyagi still holding as much power as it did at the conclusion of the war. Magic began to flourish once more, and the land regained her title as the home of expansion. It is evolving at a rate faster than the world had ever seen.
But as with every happy ending, conflict is sure to follow.
On a cliff sits a boy with a secret. And filled with power sits a boy who can’t love.
There’s something wrong with him, Yaku Morisuke has figured out by now. There’s definitely something that others have and he’s missing.
It’s not power- he has enough of that. Ever since he could remember, he’s been blessed with the ability to manipulate the air around him. And he’s always been proud of that power. It was strong, almost unusually so. Enemy after enemy would underestimate him. Enemy after enemy he’d defeat.
For with his air elemental magic, came a wide variety of not only attacks but healing as well. He could choose to solidify the air into a blade, and slash it at his opponent. He could choose to compress it enough to become as tangible as the dirt beneath his bare feet. And he could even choose to repair his or his fellow tribe member’s wounds. Every shred of skill in his body was saturated with strength.
Yeah, it wasn’t power that was missing.
In Yaku’s twelve long years following his enrollment in the Nekoma tribe, he’s slowly formed a conclusion by watching those around him. Every day he would see the others training, talking, laughing together. Like a family. Like a tribe was supposed to be. He’d watch Kuroo and Kenma from afar, studying Kuroo’s older brother-like nature to his younger friend. He’d watch Elder Nekomata gaze upon his young tribe, smiling as if they were all his grandchildren. He’d watch Yamamoto pick fights with anything that happened to be living and also crossing his line of sight. He’d watch Lev obtain endless injuries from his recklessness, and Kenma’s exasperated sighs as he resigned to heal them.
It’s like everyone’s relationships were different from his, somehow.
Sure, he cares for his tribe. He protects them in battle. He watches over them. But he had never been close to any of them, like they had all been to each other.
It all clicked one day, when Yaku heard the word ‘love’.
He’s missing love.
“Yaku, would you mind helping me? This wound isn’t closing.” Kenma sighs, his hands held gently over a deep gash in Lev’s side. Yaku pulls himself up from the wooden chair sitting at the small table of Kenma’s hut and steps over to the bed, where the witch doctor is sitting, tending to Lev’s wounds for the fourth time in three days. Kenma turns back to look at Lev, who lays on the pile of wool Kenma uses as his bed. He scowls down at the tall boy, who has an endearing smile on his face despite the fact that his side is bleeding profusely.
“What do you mean it’s not closing, Kenma? I thought you were a good healer. Maybe Yaku’s better.” Lev says, his fingers laced together over his chest. Kenma only proceeds to scowl further, heaving another heavy sigh as he looks back up at Yaku. His golden brown eyes dull with fatigue, and Yaku crosses his arms.
“Can’t. Didn’t bring my staff.” Yaku says in response to Kenma, who groans.
“Go get it then. I’m sick of tending to his injuries all the time.” Kenma mutters as if Lev wasn’t lying on the bed right next to him, though he shows no sign of absorbing what Kenma was saying anyway. He just lies on his back and stares out the window of the hut. Lev mumbles something about the sky being clear of clouds that day, then proceeds to hum some unknown song. Yaku thinks about what Kenma said for a moment, then shrugs.
“Fine.” Yaku complies, turning on his heel and walking out the open doorway.
Nekoma Village is a fairly medium-sized settlement, nestling right against the open waterway of the river. Across the thick bank, Yaku can glimpse the edge of Fukurodani Woods. The huts are gathered in the center of the village, while land sectioned off for farming is nearer to the edge, by the forest. He can see it from where he stands. Yaku moves along, winding his way through town and over to the hut he calls home, marked as his by a plank of wood positioned over the doorway labeled “Morisuke” . He almost stops when he notices a familiar face seated at his table, a signature sly smile already on the visitor’s lips.
“Kuroo, what are you doing here?” Yaku asks, words punctuated by an annoyed sigh as he grabs his staff from its place beside his bed. Kuroo stands.
“I’m bored.” He answers simply, his hands set on his hips. “Thought I’d wait here for you. What’cha doing?”
“Lev’s injured again. Kenma can’t heal him, so he asked me to help.” Yaku replies. “Don’t you have some duty as chief of the village, or is it just some title you’ve been showing off for the past eight years?”
Kuroo laughs. “Hilarious as always, Yaku. Let’s go.” Yaku sends a sharp glance at him, then leaves his hut, Kuroo following at his heels. “Kenma always tells Lev to stop getting hurt. If you ask me, I think it’s that lion he rides into battle all the time. The thing’s not doing him any good, he can barely even aim an arrow from the back of that thing while it moves so fast. Though the kid makes a good distraction-”
“Kuroo, don’t say that about him. Lev may be… annoying, at his best, but he’s a part of our tribe. And he’s not that bad.” Yaku’s grip tightens slightly on his staff as Kuroo raises an eyebrow. “What?” He only chuckles in response, choosing to not elaborate and instead stare at the the edge of the forest on the perimeter of the village. They pass the huts which belong to the other members of the Nekoma tribe, and they nearly reach Kenma’s when Inuoka pokes his head out from his own curiously.
“Yaku? Kuroo? You guys heading somewhere?” Inuoka asks, stepping out into the doorway. His hand is gripping an ivory wand at his side.
“Kenma’s.” Kuroo replies. “Why? Getting sick of the same old village, Inuoka? Want to go on an adventure?” Inuoka frowns, shifting his weight slightly.
“Wh-what? N-no, okay, well, an adventure would be nice,” Inuoka admits, scratching at his the back of his neck with a free hand. “I just wanted to see. Maybe I’ll go into the forest later, to train…”
Kuroo laughs. “Yeah, to train . You’ll set the whole place ablaze.”
Inuoka’s face pinks as he pouts. “No way, Kuroo. I can control my fire.”
Kuroo just waves as he starts to walk off. “Yeah, yeah. That’s what you say every time we have to send Yaku here to blow it out.” He slaps Yaku on the back, who only glares up at Kuroo, his fingers clenching the wood of his staff tightly.
“A-and you call yourself chief…!” Inuoka yells childishly before disappearing back into the darkness behind the doorway of his hut, leaving Kuroo set with a smirk. Yaku rolls his eyes.
“You should really stop messing with everyone.” Yaku suggests. “You are a terrible chief.” Kuroo raises a dark eyebrow.
“It’s all in the name, Yaku. Master of provocation.” Kuroo laughs, and Yaku sighs heavily as they enter Kenma’s hut. Kenma seems to deflate when he sees Kuroo walk in the door alongside the air mage. Yaku just walks over to the bed and holds the tip of his staff to Lev’s side, where he’s bleeding. Lev winces.
“Is it… going to hurt?” He asks, clenching his fists into the wool. Yaku shakes his head, muttering a simple healing spell, and Lev’s skin is back to normal. He wipes the excess blood off Lev, then steps back.
“Thanks, Yaku. I was tired of him.” Kenma mumbles, and Lev slides off the bed, standing up. His head almost bumps the ceiling, he’s so tall.
“We should go into the forest!” Lev suggests immediately, almost jumping with excitement. “All four of us!” Kenma frowns, crossing his feet under him from where he sits on the floor. Kuroo shakes his head from his spot leaning against the doorframe.
“Too dangerous-”
Kuroo doesn’t get to finish that thought, as he’s interrupted by a loud, animalistic screech. He turns around, pulling his sword out of its sheath at his side, his eyes wide with shock. “Does anyone know what that was?” He yells, drawing attention from not only the three in Kenma’s hut, but also the others close by in the village. Yamamoto jumps out from his hut only a few meters away, grinning wildly, eyes darting.
“Who the hell cares?” Yamamoto barks, scanning the surroundings for a glimpse of the creature. “Let’s fight it!”
Yaku steps out of the hut, gaze lifting to the sky.
He points at a crimson figure, muttering, “I think we have our monster.” Kuroo looks up, and grins, returning his sword to its sheath. Yamamoto follows, and his mouth falls open.
“A dragon?!” He roars, clenching his fists. “How am I supposed to fight a dragon?” The creature swoops down and lands on the outskirts of the village, tromping around in the grass. Its red scales shimmer in the midday sunlight, and the dragon stretches his wings out. Then, his eyes open, a startling icy blue against the warm red.
“Do you think it can-” Lev starts, Yaku not realizing that the tall boy was behind him, when suddenly, he stops. The dragon coughs up a fireball, setting the nearby grass aflame. “-nevermind.” He finishes.
With a wave of his staff, Yaku steps forward and extinguishes the fire with a gust of wind. The dragon eyes him curiously, the black slit of his pupil narrowing. But it doesn’t advance.
“Do we attack it?” Yaku asks, frowning.
“I mean, it trespassed our territory.” Kuroo grumbles, arms crossed. “There’s a chance it’s juts a rogue dragon, but there’s no way to tell. And there’s always the possibility it was sent by another tribe. I heard at least one of them has a dragon sanctuary.”
“Well, if it flies off, we’re gonna have trouble.” Yamamoto says, cracking his knuckles. “I won’t be able to do a thing.” Kuroo nods.
“Yaku. Lev.” He commands, turning to the two. “I want you guys to fight it off. Lev, you can shoot arrows from the ground. And Yaku, you’re the only one in this entire village who can fight it on equal footing. The sky is your domain.”
Kenma pushes his way past the three and outside. He sends a worried glance at Lev. “I’m going to have to heal him again, aren’t I?” Kuroo ignores Kenma’s question and takes a step towards the dragon, holding his hand out, fingers up towards the sky. He mutters a curse, and his shadows engulf his hand. Lev’s eyes are wide, as if he hasn’t seen Kuroo do this a million times in battle before.
The curse replicates itself on the dragon’s mouth, the shadows engulfing his jaw. He attempts to open it, but it’s as it’s glued together. All the dragon can do is snort angrily and stomp around. Kuroo steps back, the shadows disappearing totally. His hand is completely black, and he’s obviously trying not to show signs of pain. Yaku can tell, after so many years of knowing him. It’s just something one would pick up after a while.
“Kuroo-” Lev starts, only to be interrupted.
“I’m fine. I’ll survive.” Kuroo says through grit teeth. He turns to face Kenma, and without having to say anything, the smaller boy rushes back into his hut, and a moment later, a small amount of substance that looks like purple paint is flung onto Kuroo’s hand. Kenma chants something, Yaku can hear it, and the substance shines until the black color dulls to a gray. Any traces of purple are now completely gone.
“It’ll heal fully in about thirty minutes.” Kuroo mutters, facing Lev. “Now you two, chase it off. The curse will only last until this hand is completely healed.” Lev gives a childish salute and rushes off in the direction of the dragon. Kuroo pats Yaku on the back in a way which means, ‘go keep him from killing himself’ and Yaku is off as abruptly as when the dragon had arrived, following Lev.
The taller boy manages to scare off the dragon into the woods, and it’s still traversing the ground. Yaku keeps running, his bare feet slamming against the soil, not registering the pain which spikes up his legs whenever he steps on a loose rock or twig. He’s only focused on Lev and the dragon in front of him. Yaku stops after Lev corners the dragon by a grove of trees which it’s too thick to fit through. Sunlight drifts through the foliage and lands on the ground in random spots, illuminating the brown dirt and green leaves of the forest floor. A patch of light reaches the dragon’s icy blue eye directly, and he makes a hissing sound as his eyes screw shut. Smoke drifts from his nostrils, and Yaku notices Lev approaching the beast, his bow nocked with a silver arrow.
“I’m going to destroy you, foul creature,” Lev says, almost as if he’s a hero in some old story in the history books, “and become the ace of the Nekoma Village. Everyone in the lands will hear my name and tremble!”
The dragon snorts, and a small puff of fire floats from his nostrils. Lev jumps backward, and the dragon takes his opportunity to advance.
“Lev! Don’t mess around and attack it!” Yaku yells, holding his staff out in front of him, the air crystal placed at the top glowing with power. The dragon’s eyes shift to the jewel atop the long, wooden rod, and he snorts again, but this time only conjuring up smoke.
Lev hesitates, then fires the arrow. It strikes the dragon on his foot, and Lev frowns, taking another step back. Yaku summons air around the tip of his staff.
“I missed.” Lev mutters, glancing over at Yaku, who scowls. The air mage sends a strong slash at the dragon, which swipes at his body and draws a line of glistening golden blood across the beast’s side. The dragon winces, and tries to open his mouth, but to no avail. The curse that Kuroo had inflicted earlier is still in effect, and the scales around the dragon’s jaw are a light gray, continuously getting lighter and regaining the crimson color coating the rest of his body. They didn’t have much time before the dragon’s mouth would be completely free. Besides, Yaku and Lev have other problems to worry about, like his razor-sharp claws.
The dragon leaps forward, his front forearm outstretched, and his claws splayed. Yaku grabs a hold of Lev’s tunic and pulls, landing on the ground with the taller boy falling on top of him. The dragon lands right where Lev would have been standing, then growls at the two. Yaku pushes Lev aside and stands up, dragging the archer up with him harshly.
“It’s dangerous. We need to get distance on it-” Yaku starts.
“But then he’ll run away!” Lev whines, nocking another arrow but not drawing the bowstring just yet. “And I won’t get credit for defeating a dragon in combat!” Yaku rolls his eyes and prepares another air slash on the tip of his staff. The dragon watches, then lunges for Yaku’s staff, claws almost landing on the crystal. Yaku swipes it away at the last moment and brings the slash down hard on the dragon’s back, right in between his wings. The dragon unleashes a mighty roar as the last of Kuroo’s curse wears off.
“Dammit!” Yaku yells, stepping back, both of his hands grasping his staff now. The crystal blinks weakly. “I’m losing power. Lev, hurry up and finish it off.” Yaku demands, dodging another swipe by the dragon and Lev draws his arrow back, the fletching brushing his cheek.
“I’ve got it this time,” Lev mutters, shooting for the dragon. The arrow completely misses this time, instead bouncing off a tree meters in the background. The dragon turns his attention towards Lev, and breathes a line of white-hot fire. Lev jumps out of the way quickly and Yaku disperses the fire in one wave of his staff.
“I’ll try again, Yaku! I can do thi-”
Lev is cut off by the dragon slashing at his side. He falls to the ground, the massive beast towering over him, and his side beginning to bleed, crimson staining the plain wool shirt. “Yaku!” Lev yells, panicking, and Yaku sends another slash to the dragon’s back. It isn’t enough to do damage, but it attracts his attention. He turns, leaving Lev behind and instead choosing to pursue Yaku.
“Lev!” Yaku yells in response, already readying another air slash. “Go back to the village, and get help. I’ll be fine on my own.”
“No, Yaku! I can’t… I can’t leave you here!” Pure desperation clings to Lev’s words.
“You need to be healed! Get Kenma!”
“Heal me, and I can stay here and fight with you!” Lev says and Yaku jumps to dodge the dragon’s claws. Lev is holding his shirt where the dragon scratched him, trying not to wince.
“Get your lion and go. You can always send others here for me.” Yaku mutters through grit teeth. Out of the corner of his eye, he notices a flash of light, and Lev is sitting on the back of a mystic lion, translucent and light blue in color. He’s clearly hesitating.
“S-stay here. I’ll send Kai and Yamamoto.” Lev promises, and Yaku nods. In a burst of blue light, Lev is gone from the woods, with only a few splattered drops of crimson to mark that he ever was there in the first place. Yaku is alone with the dragon, scales as rich as blood and eyes as cold as ice.
The dragon stares at him for a moment, a puffs out a small ball of fire, which Yaku extinguishes immediately. The dragon tilts his head to the side curiously, puffing out smoke from his nostrils. Yaku takes a step back, readying an attack, anticipating the dragon’s slash.
Plop . Plop, plop, plop.
The sound of raindrops reaches their ears. The dragon tilts his head up at the sky, a raindrop landing on his face and rolling down rows of red scales.
Plop, plop.
Raindrops land in Yaku’s hair, dampening it. He doesn’t mind. It’s better that the dragon can’t spew fire, anyway.
Plop, plop, plop, plop, plop.
The rain worsens, heavy drops now starting to pound against the ground. The sky is overcast, contrary to the sunlight a few minutes ago. The dragon steps forward, and Yaku tries to summon the last bits of remaining power he has, but he had felt his magic slip away as the first raindrop collided with the earth. Yaku’s hands clench the wood of his staff weakly.
Is this it? Do I faint here from magic exertion, then die at the hands of a dragon?
Are the others even coming?
Yaku is dizzy. His head is spinning, his vision is getting darker, and he makes out the crimson silhouette of the dragon spreading his wings. He hears an odd voice yell something, but he’s too far gone to perceive the words.
Yaku barely notices the strange boy running up to him before his legs give out and he hits the dirt, vision going black.
“Hey!”
Nishinoya’s yells are no use. He watches as the boy faints, giving no signal he’d even heard him yell. Nishinoya turns to his dragon as he approaches, rubbing his gloved hands over the beast’s scales upon his neck. The dragon nuzzles into Noya’s touch.
“There, there, Pythios.” Noya mutters, still staring at the boy. When he turns to his dragon, Pythios, he notices the slashes upon his body. Noya frowns, trying not to be alarmed. Of course anyone else who would see his dragon would attempt to fight it. Pythios gives a sad cry and motions to the boy, now unconscious.
“Did he do this to you?” Noya asks soothingly. The dragon nods his head. Noya takes a deep sigh before continuing, “Well, why don’t we head back up to the cliff? I’m sure all the others are waiting.”
Pythios shakes his head and once again motions to the boy.
“...You want me to take him along? But he hurt you!”
Pythios whines and sits down on his back legs. Noya wipes away some of the rain which had landed on his dragon’s face.
“Are you up for flying both of us back up to the ledge?”
Pythios moves to reveal the gash on his back, between his wings. Noya runs his hand along the scar, eyes once again moving to the unconscious boy.
“Alright then. If you’re hurt, we can walk until we reach the Karasuno plateau, then you can fly us up of the very edge of our cliff and let us off, and we’ll walk the rest of the way to the cave. Or we can use the tunnels, but that might take the rest of the day…”
Pythios nods toward the cliffside in the distance, lodged near the bottom of the plateau hosting the Karasuno tribe. Noya grins, and picks up the boy, slinging him over his shoulder. He tries to take a step forward, but nearly crumbles under the boy’s weight. Noya sets him down.
“He definitely doesn’t look very heavy.” Noya mutters to himself. Pythios slips his head between the boy and the ground, sliding him onto his back. He also grabs the nearby staff with his mouth and drops it onto his back, next to the boy. He winces, then walks ahead. Noya catches up with his dragon.
“Y’know, Pythios, we’re so close to the cliff, couldn’t you just fly me up there?” Noya asks, batting his eyelashes. Pythios sends him a look saying, ‘fly there yourself’.
“Yeah, right.” Noya laughs. “And what do you expect me to do after that, huh? A cartwheel? You know I can’t do cartwheels. I always try, but then I end up wiping out halfway through. Watch-”
Pythios stretches out his wing to stop Noya from doing a cartwheel. Noya groans, crossing his arms as he keeps walking, trying to keep pace with his dragon. “Oh come on. You’re a total buzzkill.”
Pythios snorts something which, to Noya, is dragon language for ‘laughing’. Noya rolls his eyes, petting Pythios along his neck. The dragon hums, much akin to a cat purring.
“Alright, Pythios, we’re at the edge of the forest now. Will you fly us up there?” Noya says sincerely, causing the dragon to stretch his wings out. Noya pushes the boy forward on the dragon’s back and into a sitting position, then he climbs on behind him, wary of the oozing gash. Pythios flaps his wings a few times before lifting into the sky, and Noya feels the cool rush of air as he’s once again in flight, riding on the back of a dragon that he himself has raised. Nothing could feel better, to him.
Seconds later they arrive on the edge of a large cliff, edged by wood. It’s only a short walk through the small grove of trees before they reach the opening which is the dragon sanctuary Noya owns, and his own cave which he lives in to care for the beasts. The cliff itself is barely a fraction of the size of the forest below, but it’s still vast enough for Noya to live comfortably with his assortment of dragons- most of which he’s raised from their birth. Noya slides off his dragon’s back, leaving the unconscious boy to lay upon Pythios as they make their way back to the sanctuary.
“Why’d you fly off in the first place?” Noya questions. Pythios glances back at the forest, but neither of them can see the the village on the other side. The dragon turns back to Noya, but doesn’t give a clear answer.
“Adventure? Action? You see a pretty lady dragon fly by?” Noya continues, and Pythios shakes his head. Noya shrugs, shoving his hands in the pockets of his pants carelessly. He thinks he can see the sanctuary up ahead.
“Well, whatever reason, you got attacked by this guy. And now I’m bringing him back to a place full of dragons. How do I know he’s not going to just attack you again?”
Pythios hums in response.
“Yeah, yeah. I don’t know. But I won’t let him attack you or any of the others, ‘ya hear?” Noya declares. “Where did this guy even come from?”
Pythios cranes his neck back in the direction of the forest, humming his answer.
“...Pythios.” Is all Noya manages to say. He stops walking, staring at his dragon. “Are you saying you landed in the Nekoma Village, had a guy chase you and hurt you from there, and now we’ve kidnapped him?” The dragon snorts gray smoke and continues walking. Noya shakes his head in disbelief, and moves ahead to walk next to Pythios.
“That’s exactly it, isn’t it? You kidnapped a guy from our rival tribe.”
Pythios gives something of a shrug. Noya stops again, only this time to break out in a fit of hysterical laughter. Pythios rolls his eyes and trudges ahead.
“Fine then. We’ll keep him here until he wakes up. ...Did you attack him?”
Pythios looks to the cloudy sky, humming.
“So you attacked his friend, but not him, and the guy just up and fainted.” Noya glances down at the boy. “The friend left to go get the others. ...Pythios? Why didn’t you tell me more were coming? We could’ve just left him there, but now here we are, walking along back to the sanctuary with an unconscious guy on your back. Not to mention he’s from Karasuno’s rival tribe and we know nothing about him, and barely anything about Nekoma in general.”
Pythios snorts his response. Noya stops for the third time.
“ ‘I thought you wanted a friend?’ What do you mean? I’ve got you guys! And everyone up at Karasuno!” Pythios eyes him curiously, then rubs his head on top of Noya’s, who laughs. “Chill. You’re going to mess up my hair.” Pythios grins (as much as a dragon can grin) and makes a clacking sound.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Noya says with a smile, patting his hair down into the normal hairstyle he keeps it as. “We’re almost there.” Pythios repeats his clacking sound as the two step into the sanctuary, an immediate flowery aroma filling the air. The lake to their left is as clear as glass as a few dragons splash around in it. Huge stacks of wool, hay, and glittering objects make up the communal dragon’s nest to the right. Pythios nearly leaps to the air, though he keeps in mind the boy riding on his back. A flawlessly white dragon bounds over, almost as tall as the trees surrounding the field. She stretches her neck down to nuzzle against Noya’s hair, effectively messing it up again. Noya laughs, beaming up at the dragon.
“Hello there, Aigle. We’re back!” Noya says, and Aigle makes a clacking noise. Three dragons in the pond look over, mirroring the noise. “Galen, Pallas, Eos!” Noya waves one arm in the direction of the pond, and one dragon, Eos, walks over to greet Noya and Pythios. Noya rubs her jaw and she grins, humming happily.
“Thanks for the warm welcome. I’m sorry Pythios ran away, but he’s back now, and so am I. No need to worry.” Noya promises, and Eos rubs her head on Noya’s, dripping droplets of water onto his already rain soaked self. Eos opens her eyes, and sees the unconscious boy on the back of wound covered Pythios. She jumps back in surprise, salmon-colored eyes wide.
“Oh, Pythios will be fine, I’ll get someone down to heal him. As for the guy, I’m not sure what's wrong with him. But we brought him back here, and he’ll be staying until he wakes up. Then he’s leaving, I swear.” Noya answers, waving a hand. Eos seems to calm down slightly. Noya rubs her light pink scales reassuringly, her smile slowly returning.
“Alright. Will someone carry us back to the cave so Pythios can rest?” Noya asks, and Aigle nods, turning around. Noya drags the boy up and sets him and his staff on Aigle’s back, then climbs on behind him. Pythios sighs without such a weight on his back, and walks towards the direction of the dragon nest, sneaking one last glance at the boy before folding his wings against his back and laying down. Eos joins, laying next to him.
“Thanks, Aigle.” Noya says as she lifts her wings, taking into the air. She looks at him with a purple eye and then speeds forward, flying over the sanctuary. Noya holds the boy in place, tempted to slump forward in exhaustion. In a moment Aigle is already lowering herself to the ground, in front of the wide opening to the cave which Noya called home. It’s garnished with trinkets and baubles here at there, with a bed all the way at the back right corner. There’s a dresser on the other side of the cave, the top covered with little mementos of his friends up at the Karasuno ruins way above. Next to the dresser is a small, wooden table, and a basket of his freshest fruits is placed atop. Near the entrance is a chest, every inch of the surface covered with unlit candles. Tapestries litter the walls, covering the rocks, and one huge tapestry is placed on the ground, acting as a carpet in the cave. It depicts a particularly old scene of the past which a book describes in great detail, woven for him by Kiyoko. The other tapestries have also been woven by her, and show scenes of prophecies which are detailed in an ancient language on a tablet prized to the people of the Karasuno tribe, though none of the prophecies themselves particularly stand out to Noya. He figures that they’ll never happen in his lifetime, anyway. He slides off the dragon’s back, and motions for her to follow him inside. Noya trudges through the opening, and Aigle ignites one of the candles nearby with her fire breath. Light floods the room, and Noya lifts the boy off her back, setting him on his bed. He grabs the staff and sets it against the wall, then turns to Aigle as she makes a clicking noise.
“Yeah, I’ll be fine. And I’ll make sure he’s fine too. Go tell all the others I’m back, okay? I think I’m going to call it a night.” Noya asks, and Aigle nods, turning to leave the cave. Noya hesitates for a moment, then adds, “And can you head up to the ruins? Grab Suga for me.”
She hums, then takes off to the sky in one swift motion. Noya turns to the boy; now he finally has a good look at him.
Looks about sixteen, maybe? Only slightly taller than me, has light brown hair, currently can’t see his eyes, and he wears long, light brown pants and a loose, white wool shirt, while choosing to go barefoot. Pythios didn’t mention his fighting style, but it’s probably linked to this staff with a very light yellow crystal placed on top, Noya concludes. He’s about ready to collapse on the bed when he realizes the boy is taking up most of the space on it. Noya sighs.
“I don’t want to have to sleep with you, so I guess I’ll sleep on the floor,” Noya huffs to himself. He grabs a spare blanket and pillow which he keeps by the bed, and curls up on the wall opposite the bed. Noya stares up at the smooth ceiling, watching shadows cast from the candlelight dance around. He kicks his wooden dresser at his feet, frowning.
Noya can hear the rain pound against the dirt outside, and he watches the drops collide with the earth. In the distance he can hear his dragons clack and roar. He turns onto his side, staring at the figure on his bed. The boy’s chest rises and falls in rhythm as he breathes. Noya remembers the words of Pythios earlier.
‘I thought you wanted a friend?’
He turns, facing the wall of the cave, and lets sleep overtake him.
“Hhn?” Noya groans, feeling himself shaking lightly. He then registers that there’s one hand clasped on each of his shoulders, and someone’s shaking him awake. He can hear raindrops hitting the earth outside. “Who ‘s it?”
“Noya, wake up. What’s going on?” A gentle voice asks. They set his body back down, laying his head on the pillow beneath him.
“Five more minutes, mom.” Noya mutters, turning on his side and squeezing one side of the pillow to his exposed ear.
“Open your eyes.” They ask. It’s hard for Noya to follow, since it feels as though his eyes are glued shut, but he after a few tries he pries his eyes open, and blinks, adjusting to the dim light. He sits up.
“Suga?” Noya yawns. “What time is it?” Suga stands up, and Noya stretches for a minute before standing up, too. It’s weird- his body isn’t usually this stiff after sleeping, and normally, his bed feels a lot less hard and rocky .
He gets a glance at the boy on the bed and remembers the events of earlier. Noya shakes his head and rubs at his eyes as Suga crosses his arms over his grass-green tunic.
“Probably around midnight, or so.” Suga answers. “I was out on some business in the forest, and when I got back up to the ruins about twenty minutes ago, your dragon was waiting for me, it seemed. So, she brought me down here. And now there’s some random guy in your bed.” He taps the toe of his boot on the ground.
“I can explain. Pythios flew off and when I noticed, I ran into the forest after him. He got attacked by that Nekoma lot and when I found him, this guy was unconscious there. He managed to scratch up Pythios, too.”
“So you’re saying you brought back a guy from Nekoma?”
“Well, yeah.” Noya rubs the back of his neck. Suga sighs.
“I took a look at him before I woke you up. When he was fighting your dragon, his magic must have completely depleted. Judging by his staff over there, he’s some sort of wizard or mage. And that crystal on top? Air crystal. He must be an air mage. Of course, that’s just what I concluded from what I see. He doesn’t have any visible scratches on him, so it looks like your dragon didn’t end up hurting him.” Suga deciphers.
“...Wow. You could really tell all that?” Noya’s left in a state of shock. Suga smirks.
“Yep. I could fix the magic depletion, but it’s better to let him recover it on his own. If he’s fainted only recently, then he’ll probably wake up within another day or two. And even after that, he still won’t have enough magic to cast lots of spells. He’ll have three casts at best before he faints again, and then he’d be out for a week. Possibly longer.” Suga lectures. “So don’t let him cast any spells when he wakes up, at least for a few days. And don’t tell me that you’re planning on sending him off when he wakes up.”
“No…” Noya says, averting his gaze. Suga rolls his eyes.
“Somehow, I knew that's what you were planning.”
“Whatever.” Noya waves his hand. “Do you know who he is? Maybe that would help us somehow?”
Suga looks at the boy, his hand on his chin in thought. “I don’t think so. Then again, the only times we’re in contact with Nekoma are skirmishes. And that one time Daichi went to negotiate a treaty with the chiefs of each tribe, but the chief of Nekoma is a tall, slender guy with messy black hair by the name of Kuroo Tetsurou, and I know for a fact that this is not him.”
“Is there any place we can get information on Nekoma…?” Noya asks. Suga slams the side of his fist into the palm of his other hand, slightly startling Noya.
“Yes, there is! The Karasuno library has records of everyone else in the five major tribes of the Miyagi lands.” Suga exclaims, grinning. “It’s the perfect spot to research this guy.”
“Go there, then. I’m sure Aigle would give you a ride up.”
“You’re coming with me.” Suga declares, grabbing Noya’s wrist and pulling him out of his own cave. Noya drags his feet, stopping Suga.
“No. What if he wakes up?”
“We won’t be gone but thirty minutes, I swear. Come with me to the library, and we’ll look in the records for this guy.” Suga says, and Noya steals one last glance at the boy in his bed before he shrugs, and lets Suga pull him forward, through his sanctuary.
They walk on a path between a few trees before they reach the open field that is Noya’s dragon sanctuary. A few dragons are awake- one is in the lake, and the others are congregating in the center of the field. Aigle looks over, and walks up to greet the two as she clicks. Noya pats her on the base of her neck.
“Hey, Aigle. Thanks for bringing Suga, but we need to head up to the ruins. Could you fly us there?” He asks, and Aigle nods her head enthusiastically. Noya motions for Suga to climb on, then he slides on the dragon behind Suga. Aigle hums to the other dragons, who hum in return, and she spreads her wings.
“Sorry to steal Aigle from you guys. We’ll be back shortly, Sibyl, Krios, Pallas. Stay safe!” Noya calls, then Aigle takes to the sky, flapping her wings to gain momentum, then shooting off, up to the top of the plateau. Noya watches as his dragons become tiny specs of color in the distance before lifting his head, watching as Aigle rises into the sky. She lands on the top moments afterward.
“Thanks, girl.” Noya says, patting her side. Aigle hums as the two slide off.
“That will forever be an amazing feeling.” Suga states. “Now, let’s go. The library’s near the center of the ruins, located in an old skyscraper. Noya nods, then turns to his dragon.
“Stay right here, Aigle. We’ll be back before you know it.” She clicks, and Noya throws one last reassuring smile before he’s sprinting off straight into town with Suga.
The ruins are reminiscent of an old Japanese city, existing way back in the past, so far that magic hadn’t even begun to take root yet. Huge buildings loomed in the sky, and large complexes dominated the lands. While most of the buildings were left to rot, the Karasuno tribe had taken control of the ruins, and work on restoring it back to the way it was. Unfortunately, lots of materials were no longer available to the world, so the majority of the buildings couldn’t be fixed. Instead, Karasuno focused on creating their own farms and lifestyle out of what once was, altering parts of the land to their needs. They truly resembled fierce, omnivorous crows.
Noya’s boots slam against the ground as he runs, trying to keep up pace with Suga, who’s totally fine running at such a fast speed. “Is anyone else awake?” Noya yells.
“If you keep yelling like that, then yes.” Suga answers at the same volume as Noya. “Daichi should be in the town square. We’ll pass him in just a few minutes. Everyone else should be sleeping, but I have no idea.”
“Can we visit Ryuu?” Noya asks, grinning wildly. He didn’t want to miss an opportunity to see one of his best friends, as he never dropped by the ruins often.
“I don’t feel like getting punched today.” Suga answers. “You know how it is when someone wakes him up. I’ve already had to heal Hinata three times this week because of Tanaka-related injuries.”
“You sure he’s asleep?”
“Positive. He was out like a light after dinner. Asahi carried him back to the rooms.”
“Oh, speaking of healing, how’s it going with your powers? And everyone else’s?”
Suga chuckles. “Really, Noya, you have to spend time with us sometimes. Stop being an introvert with your dragons.” Suga ignores Noya’s whines of - ‘but they need me!!’ - and keeps talking. “We’re your tribe. We have you a room and everything. We always have.”
“I know,” Noya mumbles, face heating up with shame. “Sorry.”
“It’s alright. We understand that you raise those dragons. That’s a tough job as is, and it’s only fitting for someone as strong and brave as you. Plus, that means the Karasuno tribe has something that the others don’t. Dragons. ” Suga says, patting Noya on the back while they both were still running.
“Seijoh has pegasi.” Noya mutters.
“Dammit.”
“Suga? Noya?” Someone asks. The two stop running, and Daichi walks out of a building nearby, the still intact bells chiming. “What are you guys doing up here so late?”
“Library. If you want to talk, come with us. No time to explain.” Suga pants, then he grabs Noya’s wrist and runs off again. They watch Daichi shrug and return into the building, to whatever he was doing before.
“So you never told me about how the others were doing.” Noya says. Suga nods.
“The same as last time you were here. Which, Noya, if you don’t realize, was three weeks ago. ” Noya rolls his eyes.
“I’m sorry. I’ll visit soon, okay? Once we get the whole deal with this guy straightened out.” Suga glances at Noya.
“Alright. And, we’re here.” Suga stops abruptly at an old, wooden building. They walk into the library, and it’s almost pitch black except for what little natural light is coming from the moon through the clouds. Noya ruffles his wet hair with his hands.
“How are we supposed to look if I can’t see anything?” Noya asks, and immediately, a light flickers in Suga’s outstretched palm, and it falls onto the old wood floor, shaggy carpet, rows upon rows of full bookshelves, and even a staircase at the back of the room.
“Cool, huh?” Suga says, twirling the small ball of light around with his fingers, making shadows dance along the walls. Noya heads over to the records section of the library, running his fingers over the various files placed on the shelf. Suga joins him, pulling out the Nekoma file. He motions Noya over to a table in the middle of the library, placing the small ball of light on the top of an unlit candelabra. Then he opens the file, skimming through all the members of the Nekoma tribe.
“Kuroo Tetsurou. Kozume Kenma. Yamamoto Taketora. Kai Nobuyuki. Fukunaga Shouhei. Inuoka Sou. Haiba Lev. Shibayama Yuuki. Elder Nekomata Yasufumi… and last, at the very back of the file is our mystery guy, Yaku Morisuke.” Suga reads off from the documents. He sets the papers for everyone else in the tribe back into the folder and pushes it aside, then sets the document for Yaku on the table so both of them can look at it. Suga positions the light ball so they can clearly read the words inscribed on the page.
“Yaku Morisuke.” Noya reads. “Five feet five inches, eighteen years of age, of the male gender, and born with powers of the Air. His weaponry consists of one long, wooden staff, embedded with an Air crystal at the top, which he channels most of his power through. His main attacks include an air slash which which he sends at the opponent as if throwing a knife, and solidifying air to form an invisible weapon which he can drop onto or throw at his opponent. His skills are versatile and can even form invisible barriers, support his allies through the use of Air and Wind by making them lighter and faster, or he can choose to heal if he so desires.” Noya pauses for a moment, absorbing all of the information. The file even includes a picture of him, which matches the boy back at Noya’s cave exactly. “Wow.”
“Yeah, wow. He seems to be pretty powerful.” Suga notes. “Well, he’s your problem now, Noya. Try not to get yourself killed, or him.”
“What’s the point? He’s a member of Nekoma.”
Suga shrugs. “I’m just saying, wouldn’t he be an interesting opponent when ‘The Battle at the Garbage Dump’ becomes a real event? Might as well keep him alive. And this world isn’t as harsh as you think, Noya. We can still find friendship in other tribes.”
Noya lifts himself away from the paper. “Yeah, you’re right.” He resigns, sighing. “But if he does attack me or my dragons, then he’s leaving.”
“Chances are, he’ll notice his lack of magic power right when he wakes up. A well-timed kick or punch might hurt you, but it wouldn’t faze a dragon. So don’t worry.”
“Uh huh.” Noya mutters, slipping Yaku’s document back in the file with the rest of them. “I think this does it for the researching. I’m still super tired, and that run did me no favors.” Noya yawns, almost tempted to lay down and fall asleep on the floor in the library. Suga rubs at his eyes, too, then he picks up the ball of light.
“Okay. Go on back to your cave, Noya, and get some sleep. You’ve done too much today, and you need rest.” Suga says, sliding the file back onto the shelf which he pulled it from, extinguishing the ball of light by squeezing it in his hand.
“Wait. The reason I called you was to see if you could heal Pythios.” Noya remembers.
“I don’t know, it’s pretty late already. Is he in a bad condition?”
“Some cuts, made by Yaku.” He answers.
“Dragons are strong. He’ll be fine. Don’t you have healing salves or something there? If not, I have quite a few to spare. I’m not sure how it’ll work with a dragon, but… it’s worth a shot, I suppose. The rooms are close by, stay right here. I’ll be back soon.” Suga promises, before heading out of the building. Noya frowns, sitting down on the wood floor in the dark.
So, an air mage faints in a forest .
Noya snickers aloud for no one except himself to hear. This sounds like the opening to a bad joke.
But seriously. He tells himself, taking a deep breath to keep from laughing spontaneously. This guy’s a super powerful air mage. He fought a dragon on equal footing, and even the records here list him as someone who can deal lots of damage while also having the ability to heal. If he’s so powerful, then what’s his weakness? Everyone has one. ...I guess it could be that he faints easily, but that’s such a stupid downside. There’s something more to this.
Like, Suga’s weakness is that he gets his healing and supportive powers from an angel which he’s bound to. But if he uses too much of it, the angel loses it’s power, becoming a demon, which would possess him and wreck havoc in the world. My weakness is…
Noya shakes his head, clearing his thoughts. No. I told myself that I wouldn’t ever think about it again.
Before his thoughts have time to return, Suga sprints through the door, holding a bag of healing supplies. Noya stands up, and he thrusts the bag into his hands.
“There you go.” Suga pants. “Enough healing salve to last a month, at least.”
“Thanks a lot, Suga. You’ve been a huge help today.”
“Oh, of course. That’s what I do here, anyway.” He flashes a gentle smile. “Want me to walk you back to Aigle, or…?”
“Go get some rest.” Noya insists. “Taking care of everyone else in the tribe must be hard work.” He pats Suga’s shoulder.
“Thank you, too. I’m heading out into the forest tomorrow- Asahi and I are heading to the river for clean water. We’ll drop by and check on you on the way out, alright?”
Noya nods. “That’s fine. See you tomorrow, Suga!” He chirps as they walk out from the dark library. Suga gives a final wave as he heads in the direction of the individual rooms, and Noya goes back to the edge of the plateau where it steps off into a steep cliff all the way to the forest floor below, and where Aigle stands.
Patting Aigle on the neck as he reaches her, he climbs on her back, and she turns, wings outstretched, diving off the cliff. She hums a greeting to Noya as they descend, but he’s so sleepy that he can barely register what she was saying.
“Put me down in front of the cave, okay? I’m beat.” Noya mutters into her neck. She clicks her response, landing right in front of the cave. Noya slides off and stumbles over to his makeshift bed, glancing at the boy- Yaku Morisuke.
“Thanks, Aigle.” Noya says, and Aigle makes her clacking sound. “Nah, don’t light a candle, it’s fine. Goodnight to you too, and tell the others I said that.” She makes a final clacking noise as she turns around and trudges off in the direction of the sanctuary.
Noya throws the bag of healing salve on the floor next to his real bed. For now, he’s just ready to get back to rest. He lays on the ground, sliding the blanket over him.
Noya lets the sound of the pounding rain lull him to sleep.
In the morning, the rain still hasn’t let up.
Noya wakes to the sound of two voices. Opening his eyes, he sees Asahi and Suga looming over his bed on the opposite wall. Suga’s dressed in the same clothes as the night before with the addition of an ivory wand at his belt, and Asahi’s wearing light armor and has both of his axes strapped to his back, as if they were going to head out on a mission. Noya rolled his eyes to himself. Well, duh they’re going on a mission. Suga mentioned it last night. But neither of them have realized that he’s awake yet.
Noya grins to himself, slowly sliding the blanket off of him. He stands up, and Asahi and Suga are still talking. This is the perfect time to scare them, Noya thinks, slowly creeping forward.
“Aaahhh!” Noya yells as he jumps at Asahi and Suga. Asahi panics, and nearly screams, and Suga continues talking as if Noya didn’t just startle him. Yaku stirs but doesn’t wake up.
“So, as I was saying,” Suga says, “Last night, we went up to the library to take a look at the Nekoma records. His name is Yaku Morisuke, and he’s an air mage. A particularly powerful air mage, at that.” Asahi nods, still breathing heavily from Noya’s scare. Noya stands on the tip of his toes to peer at Yaku over Suga’s shoulder.
“Why’d you bring him here?” Asahi asks, turning to Noya, who shrugs.
“Pythios wanted me to.”
“Y-your dragon?” Asahi stutters, glancing out the opening of the cave. Despite being a fearsome and powerful knight, known across the five tribes, he was still a huge wimp at heart. Noya snickers.
“He flew off, landed in the Nekoma village, got attacked by two of them and injured one. Then Yaku here fainted, and I showed up to bring Pythios back, but he wouldn’t leave without him.” Noya explains. “No idea why.”
“Maybe he wants you to heal him or something.” Suga suggests, and Noya shakes his head.
“If he did, then he would’ve told me to heal him. And, you said to just let him rest for a few days.” Noya points out.
“So there’s nothing we can do.” Asahi sums up. Suga nods.
“Anyway, we should head out, Asahi. No point in staying here and staring at him.” Suga takes a step away from the bed. “We’ll be gone all day, might as well get down to the river as fast as we can.”
Asahi sighs, following Suga. “Yeah, you’re right. The water supply’s getting low up in the ruins,” He says to Noya, “so Daichi sent us to go pick up more.”
“If you want to borrow a dragon, I’m happy to help.” Noya offers.
“N-no thanks. There’s some things that I need to to take care of in the forest, anyway. See you later, and come by the ruins again soon. Tanaka has been asking for you.” Asahi says, standing at the entrance of the cave with Suga, looking back to Noya. Asahi smiles.
“See you later, Nishinoya.” Suga adds, walking out of the cave, Asahi following behind. Noya stays in the cave, staring at Yaku, and listens to their conversation as they leave.
“Wow, the rain really hasn’t let up yet, huh?” Suga says. His voice is getting fainter.
“It’s been raging on for hours now. And it was so sudden, too. Who knows when it’s going to stop?” Asahi lets a raindrop fall into his outstretched palm. “It’ll just rust my armor.”
“It’s really a nuisance.” Suga mutters. “It’s hard enough to do anything around here.”
The voices drown out to the sound of pounding rain. Noya glances out the opening of the cave, watching raindrops splash against the rocks. He turns his attention away from Yaku for one moment to watch as Suga and Asahi become specks in the distance before they disappear behind the trees. He turns back to Yaku, but the tapestry he keeps hanging over the bed catches his eye. Noya frowns, reaching to pull it down from its place on the wall. Once he has the huge piece of woven thread in his hands, he sits down in the center of the cave.
The tapestry in his hands depicts a large picture of a golden dragon with light brown eyes in the middle. Around it stand two different, unnamed tribes, at war with each other, or at least in battle. One side of the sky pounds with a heavy rain, and the other side is clear except for white wind. And at the grass at the very bottom, below the war raging, sits a lone, white flower, a jasmine, in the middle of a crimson sea.
Noya flips the tapestry over to the back, where the inscription of the prophecy lies. However, with the sky being overcast, the words are hard to read. He tries for a few minutes before giving up and hanging up the prophecy back on the wall, careful to not disturb Yaku.
Noya sits down against the opposite wall, staring at the tapestry. It had always been a puzzling one for him, as it held not just a dragon, but a golden dragon. And golden dragons were extremely rare, as Noya has ever known one.
No. He shakes his thoughts away, sighing. I can’t think about it.
Noya returns to watching Yaku’s chest rise and fall, and listening to the sound of rain. The soothing rhythm puts him to ease, and suddenly, he’s feeling somewhat tired. Noya shrugs the blanket over his body and lays on the ground, closing his eyes. He didn’t feel like doing anything today, anyways.
He wakes again at the next dawn.
Noya sits up, groaning. Had I really been sleeping all day? He thinks, rubbing his head. His eyes immediately move to his bed, and sure enough, Yaku’s still asleep there. He stands up, stretching, and walks over to his table. Sure enough, after a day of pretty much not eating, he’s starved.
Grabbing a peach from his fruit basket, Noya bites into it. As he’s chewing, he sees the bag of healing salve that Suga gave him only two days before. He picks it up and slings it over his shoulder. While he’s up, he might as well head out to the sanctuary and take care of his dragons.
He hesitates, seeing the still pounding rain, and hearing Yaku’s light breaths. Then Noya shakes his head and walks out, taking the path down to the sanctuary. As he walks, he whistles to his dragons, causing a few of them to poke their heads out from the forest around him. When he reaches the sanctuary, he has most of his dragons surrounding him. Spying Pythios near the lake, he calls the dragon over, finishing off the fruit in his hand.
“Hey, Pythios! I brought some medicine that’ll make you feel better,” Noya says as the dragon slowly makes his way to him. “It looks like the cuts have scabbed over, but the healing salve should probably still have an effect.” He adds. Pythios hums as Noya scoops a bit of the gel out with his fingers, and applies it to the wounds.
When he steps back, finished, Pythios makes a clicking noise, and Eos, who was watching the whole time, rubs her head on Noya. He laughs, pushing her away playfully.
“Thanks, Eos.” Noya mumbles, sitting down, letting raindrops fall on his head and soak his hair. He lays down, looking up at the sky.
He can’t see the sunrise because of the clouds, but they’re slightly tinted a light pink color. Eos sits down next to him, humming. He strokes her tail with his gloved hand, letting the rain fall onto his face.
“I’m okay. Thanks for worrying about me.” Noya replies. “There’s just so much happening.”
Pythios hums too, and Noya sighs. “The boy’s fine. He should be waking up soon.”
He sits there until the pink hue in the clouds disappears. It’s still probably early morning, and he should tend to his dragons some more today, but Noya can’t really work up the motivation to do much. Instead, he stands up, and excuses himself to head back to his cave.
As he approaches his cave once again, he hears something… odd, as if someone is rummaging around in his cave. He picks up the pace into a jog, and his steps falter when he sees who exactly is there.
Yaku Morisuke stands at his table, holding an apple.