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In a land of myth and a time of magic, the destiny of a great kingdom rests on the shoulders of two young boys. Their names: Keith and Lance.
The citadel was so bright. It was so alive. People were bustling around, vendors and patrons alike. Guards marched the rows of shops, glaring at would be pickpockets. It was a place of wonder, intrigue. Food stalls lined the rows, people pouring out to get a taste of different cultures.
It was time for the highly anticipated tournament of magic. The tournament that ran every seven cycles. It was open to all the kingdom, all creatures. It was the only tournament of its kind and it was to be held in two days’ time.
Lance moved through the streets, marvelling at the vendors, the exhibitors who’d come out to make some coin. He passed knights playing cars, contestants showing off their muscles and peasants who just wanted to get grain.
The castle was an incredible sight. As a young man from a small, outlying village, he’d never thought he’d get this opportunity. To come to be a part of this tournament, be a competitor. He was both honoured and terrified. So many people would be watching.
He’d found a place to stay by the castle. It wasn’t much, a shared room with a group of other competitors. Lance had found a corner, spelled the area, and left his things. He wanted to explore.
The castle was huge, with decorations lining the exterior. It was beautiful. Lance came from nothing, his family all humans with nothing to their name. Lance’s birth had been a shock to them, but a blessing.
His magic meant the fields were more productive, the weather favourable and the livestock content. That wasn’t all his magic could do, and he was going to prove that.
The training fields had been cleared for competitors to train, to show off. Lance made his way towards them, but he would do no warmups, he knew his strengths. He’d been taught by two mages in his life, and a retired knight. Not the most prestigious of choices, but they were limited in the village. He was strong enough.
He caught sight of several magic uses throwing spells at straw dummies. He watched, seeing how they moved. He’d always been told he was too observant for his own good.
That was usually from the people who’d been caught doing something wrong. Like his neighbour having an affair with another man. Apparently being observant was a bad thing.
He knew how useful it was, though. All fighters had their tells, Lance just had to work them out. He’d not fought a lot, but he knew enough to fight in this tournament. He wasn’t here to win, just to do his family proud. He knew that simply being entered was enough for them.
Lance spotted a group of fae, magical steeds standing powerfully at their side. Trees sprouted where unicorns stood, flowers bloomed beneath deer feet and small birds carried the wind with them.
He saw a group of were creatures locked in arm wrestles, teeth, fangs and claws gnashing. He’d met one werewolf, many seasons prior. Nice enough person, strong and tough. The curse of the moon hadn’t slowed him down.
Elves and pixies shot with bows of pure magic, their aim true and sure. Lance watched a moment longer. They would win at any long range display, not close up. Too slow, too focussed. An asset on the field of battle, not in a tournament.
Mages, witches and wizards showed off displays of power, spells flying into the air. It was incredible to watch. Lance had spent most of his life in a human dominated village, seeing so much magic on such proud display was almost overwhelming. It was beautiful.
Someone moved behind him, heading for Lance. A tall, handsome figure with long, white locks of flowing hair, deep eyes that practically glowed. In his hands was a staff, an unusual one. Brown wood carved with runes Lance wasn’t familiar with. At its crest sat a blue gem, carved into a crescent shape. It gave Lance the creeps.
“You competing?” The figure stopped beside Lance, his voice silky smooth, cutting through the air like a knife through butter. His piercing eyes stayed on Lance, almost as though he could see through him. Lance resisted the urge to shiver. Their height difference alone was enough to make Lance want to step back, unused to feeling so short. This man practically loomed over him.
He wanted to lie, but that would be too obvious. Instead, he deflected. “Are you?” he kept his tone even, giving away nothing.
The man nodded, looking far too gleeful, or perhaps smug, Lance thought. “Indeed. May the best man win.” And he glided away, leaving Lance staring at his glowing staff. The power radiating from it felt wrong. Twisted. Unusual.
Shaking his head, he moved to the edge of the field, ducking into the forest. He followed a path, well worn and covered with falling leaves. He smiled to himself, grateful for the cover of the canopy above, the birds in the trees. Approaching another clearing, he hurried behind a tree, ducking himself out of sight as his jaw dropped.
His eyes scanned the clearing where he’d heard a beast. A huge beast, breathing loud and dangerous. Finally, his eyes entered the clearing, and he could’ve passed out from shock.
There in the middle of the clearing was a boy, likely around Lance’s own age, talking to a huge dragon.
A huge, red dragon with enormous dark wings and sharp claws. She stood, tall and proud, watching the man below. Lance could see how calm the boy was, his palm outstretched as he spoke with her.
Lance had only seen one dragon before. This one was incredible. Dragons were so rare now, almost extinct. Those who were left, they’d gone into hiding, or taken a mage to protect them.
A branch cracked beneath Lance’s feet and he winced. The dragon roared, wings flaring and a blast of flame shot past Lance. He yelped, instinctively shooting up a wall of ice.
The boy from the clearing moved in front of the dragon, watching Lance. He was like nothing Lance had seen before, despite the look of fire in his own eyes, dark and menacing. Dangerous. Objectively, very handsome, if he didn’t look like he wanted to kill Lance at any moment.
Lance bit his lip, then held up his hands and entered the clearing. He moved cautiously, watching the dragon and boy in turn. “Sorry, I’m no threat, I swear it.”
The man only watched Lance, scrutinised him. Lance wondered what he’d find. A young peasant man, blue clothes dirty and ripped from the journey. The slight golden swirl of magic in his otherwise blue eyes. Hopefully he found something he could trust, Lance didn’t want to fight this person. Not with a dragon at his side.
“State your business.”
“I was just on a walk, but I heard noises.” Lance said. “Really, if you’re trying to hide, you’re not doing a good job.”
The man scowled, and Lance tried not to be too relieved his thoughtless remark was ignored. “You sound like Shiro.”
Lance’s jaw dropped once again, lowering his hands. “You know Shiro? High Mage Takashi Shirogane?”
“Obviously.”
“How is that obvious? I don’t even know who you are?”
The man held up a hand as the red beast began to growl. “Names Keith, I’m Shiro’s apprentice.”
Lance was really trying not to let his jaw drop again, but he failed. This was Shiro’s apprentice? Lance had heard rumours, passed by travelling nomads through his village. The apprentice had been chosen a few years ago, a fire mage with enormous potential. Some thought he’d even surpass Shiro himself.
“That’s awesome, is he as powerful as they saw?” are you?
Shiro was the last victor for the tournament. He was rumoured to be the most powerful spirit mage. The fifth element. Mages commonly had one element they could master, depending on their innate strength. Lance’s own was water, specifically ice, and he was far stronger then he ought to be.
Keith just glared at him. Kept a hand on the beast’s leg. “Why would I tell you anything?”
“Are you competing?”
“No.”
He would admit, he was surprised. Surprised, and a bit disappointed. “Oh.” He looked to the dragon, waving a vague hand. “You’d probably win.”
“She’s not a tool,” Keith said, and Lance tried so hard not to shiver, to react to the tone. He tried not to appreciate how protective this man was over such an incredible beast. He was the ideal person to have a dragon bond.
“Of course not.”
“It’s too dangerous for her. You should never have seen her.”
Lance held up his hands again, sensing Keith about to throw a spell his way. “I would never hurt her, I swear it. Dragons are sacred beings, they deserve our care and respect. Your secret is safe with me.”
“I don’t know who you are.”
“Oh, I’m Lance. I’m here for the tournament. I’m competing.”
Keith snorted, dropping the raised hand. “Good luck with that. What’s your gift then?”
Lance didn’t appreciate the tone, glaring at Keith. “If you must know, I’m an ice mage. Guess if you’re not competing, it’s not an advantage.”
Keith stared at Lance, a similar way that the white-haired man had before. Except, this time, it made Lance feel warm, not uneasy. “Huh.” Was all he said, turning back to the dragon. “Be careful.”
“You were spotted? Keith, do you know how dangerous that is?”
He rolled his eyes, casting a glance to where Red had curled up for the night. The dragon was currently no larger then a common house cat, looking so peaceful on her bed, wings curled around her face.
“It’s not a big deal. Lance won’t say anything.” He hoped.
“You’re taking the word of a total stranger, who is here to win a trophy known for cheats and threats. People play dirty here, Keith.” Shiro looked truly angry, but Keith also knew it was worry. Red was Keith’s bonded charge, but Keith was Shiro’s kid. If something happened to Red, Keith would get hurt too.
He looked down, rubbing at his arm. “We were being careful.”
“Ok, where’s Lance staying? I’m going to have a word with him.”
For some reason, the thought made Keith flinch. “No – I, I got a good feeling from him, Shiro. I know he won’t betray Red. Not even to win.”
Shiro ran a hand through his hair. “For your sake, I hope you’re right.”
Keith watched him leave the chambers and sighed. He dropped onto his bed, seeing Red lift her head to stare at him. She hadn’t felt Lance was a threat either. There was something about him. Something he couldn’t place yet.
He’d never found a water mage he liked. It was something in his very core that warred with the other magic. But Lance felt different. His magic was a calm ocean, cool and collected. It was safe.
As his magic had grown, Keith had been able to feel the magic of others around. Shiro had said it wasn’t common, but it was useful. Apparently, those who could feel others magic could sense shifts in it, use it to fight better.
The tournament held no interest to him. He needed to keep Red safe, that was the priority. Red, who’d trusted Keith to bond with him. Who’d chosen his magic over anyone else’s. It was a huge honour.
Shiro and the princess were the only two to have seen Red. Now, that included Lance. But Keith wasn’t so sure that wasn’t what was meant to happen. Who was Lance? He hadn’t looked at Red like something he’d never seen before, hadn’t looked at her for what she could give him.
There was more to Lance then met the eye.
The audience alone was intimidating. Stands of thousands of people crowded into the space, all focussed on the sand arena. Competitors were not allowed to cast spells that could harm to audience, and there were spells in place to stop mishaps.
Lance swallowed as he looked around. The competitors looked so much more intimidating now. The first round, the first day, this was to weed out the weak. It was an individual obstacle course, of a sort. He’d already watched so many beings fail.
He’d also watched many more succeed. They were the ones who would move to the next round. The fights.
Lance spotted the white haired man from the previous day. He was watching the crowd, watching the competition. He was calculating. Another shiver ran down Lance’s spine. He was dangerous.
Lance felt the urge to pat down his pocket, but he refused to draw attention to it. He could feel the warmth, solid and heavy, safe in his pocket. That was enough.
Lotor, the announcer called the white-haired man, moved from the shadows into the arena. He looked at the obstacles with a bored expression, then breezed through them. There was a grace to his movements, something Lance hadn’t seen from any of the others. It was almost like he was dancing. He flitted through the course like it was made for him.
Lotor passed easily, unsurprisingly. The crowd cheered loudly, watching Lotor swan around and back to the edges. Lotor’s dark eyes grazed Lance’s, tilting his head up at Lance. Smirking.
Lance watched, realising the man hadn’t used his staff at all. The glowing blue gem had done nothing. He’d glided through on his own merit. That was a terrifying thought.
Finally, it was Lance’s turn. The outsider, the lowest rank. No one was expecting much from the unschooled mage. all others had received proper training at the palace, or from a high mage. Lance hadn’t, but he could still do this.
He took a deep breath, centred himself with the air around him, and entered the arena.
It was nothing like he could have imagined. The sound of the crowd was deafening. He could feel those beady eyes on him, judging him. He was a bird in a cage, acting, performing, for their entertainment. He was the one no one held hopes for, but he’d show them. He had a job to do, and he was going to do it. He put aside his stage fright, steeled his nerves, and faced the first obstacle.
It was an unusual series of obstacles, to be sure. Magical manacles that required just the right method to release. A puddle of magical water that could make one immobile or provide strength. A goblet that could enchant the drinker to perform an orchestral piece or be granted energy.
The final part was a simple candle with a small red flame flickering at its top. Lance reached forwards to take the wick, the flame immediately changing colour to a rich, stunning blue. The crowd ‘ooed’ at the change, reflecting his inner core magic. He smiled softly, watching the flame flicker as he transferred it to the pyre. All manner of flame colours flickered on magical logs, enchanted to burn beneath the magical cores.
He bowed to the crowd as he left, leaving the blue flame flickering beneath rainbows of others. Hidden behind golden flames that burned so much brighter then his.
“Ice, then,” Lotor appeared at the outside of the arena, catching Lance by surprise. He leaned against the structure, looming form and dangerous eyes watching Lance closely. Lance twitched, recovering quickly and turning to face the man.
“That’s me.”
Lotor hummed, the sound deep and rumbling. “Cool, I’ve always been interested in the water element.”
Something twisted in Lance’s gut. He narrowed his eyes at the man, trying to see through him. He was hard to read. “Yes, well. It’s not for everyone.” Water and fire elements were the two least found within mages. They were finicky, dangerous and temperamental. Usually, stronger too. The power to give life and take it so easily.
Lotor stalked off, crystal glowing faintly in his wake. Lance watched, memorising the runes carefully. His gut sank slowly, feeling a tug at his own magic. He had a bad feeling about this.
The first round of the tournament was over. Keith couldn’t quite shake the feeling that something was wrong. Very wrong. The dragon in his pocket seemed to agree, having been watching the events with fascination.
That said, Keith was also impressed by Lance. The underdog, the one no one was expecting to wield power, much less the water element. He didn’t look like much, and no one had heard of him. But, there he was, a wielder of water.
On the first night, the castle held a welcome banquet for the competitors. Keith was invited, as a resident of the castle and Shiro’s apprentice, he was almost requested to be there. He took a seat near Shiro, watching the crowd. Feeling the magic swirl around him. He lived in a castle full of magic, but he’d never felt so many conflicting cores at once. It was intoxicating.
His eyes gravitated towards Lance. He paused, seeing the water mage’s eyes already on him. Keith looked away, but his eyes were slowly drawn back. He swallowed. There was something about Lance. Something he knew he could trust. His magic felt good, despite it being a natural enemy of his own.
It was perhaps the only thing he could trust, the room so full of magic users, he could hardly decipher any other.
“You’re staring,” Shiro said, leaning over and startling him. “Is that the boy who saw Red? Making sure he doesn’t say anything?”
“Stop talking about her,” Keith hissed, eyes flashing at Shiro. “And, yes. That’s Lance.”
Shiro turned his curious gaze over Lance, who immediately looked away under the stare of the high mage. He looked alarmed by being caught. Keith supposed something had to faze him.
“Water mage, right? He did well today. You should congratulate him.”
Keith scowled, glaring at Shiro. “Shove it.”
“He’s kind of cute.”
Flame rushed to Keith’s cheeks, and it had nothing to do with his core. He glared at the floor. Tried to keep his mind from seeing the pretty smile beneath crystal eyes. Who gave Lance the right to be so pretty?
Shiro rose to stand, amusement colouring his features. “Enjoy your evening, Keith. I have some guests to greet.”
“Hey, no – wait, Shiro,” but Shiro was already gliding away, leaving Keith slumped in his chair and glaring at the food.
He scowled, finding Lance’s eyes once again, letting the frown drop as he sighed. He felt warm breath burn at his skin and flinched, glaring down at his collar. Red’s nose poked from his decorative shirt, judgemental eyes boring at him.
“Not you, too.”
She flashed a mouthful of fangs, tiny on her form but no less deadly. “You can’t spend your whole life running.”
He scowled, trying not to make it obvious he was talking to himself. Who would be paying attention to him in this crowd? “I’m not running. I’m protecting you.”
She burrowed back down to his neck, warm breath comforting. “Doesn’t mean you have to be alone.”
Keith sighed, shaking his head. He could feel her pout, but he couldn’t risk her. He couldn’t let her get hurt, not again. Not if he could help it. And if avoiding a blue eyed, ice wielding mage would protect her, he would. This was his sacred duty.
Despite it, he caught Lance’s eyes again. The water mage was standing now, talking with an elf. It was clear from the distance that the elf was trying to flirt. Keith hated it, hated the feeling of something sinking within his own gut. He shouldn’t care.
His solace was watching Lance turn them down. Keith wondered briefly if he’d turn him down too. Part of him wanted to know. Another part was scared. The bigger part wanted to know, and that part seemed to win.
He was a flame mage. He could make bad decisions, it’s what they were known for.
Worst came to it, he would let Red eat him.
He stood, letting his body guide him without thinking too hard. This was a terrible idea. Still, he pushed it down. Followed his instincts that pulled him towards Lance. Caught Shiro’s smug grin, wanted to curse him. Caught a smile from the princess, curious and hopeful. She was perhaps his one friend, aside from Red. Shiro did not count.
“Keith,” Lance said, smiling. It was relaxed, pleasant and belonged there on his features. It easily put Keith at ease. Red huffed in his collar, a small puff of smoke drifting from his collar.
“You did well, congratulations.”
Lance seemed to practically glow from the compliment. “You saw?”
“I’m the high mage apprentice, I watched them all.” Admittedly, he was more interested in watching the pretty boy in front of him. Not that he was ever going to admit that. Certainly not to him.
“Who’s your pick?”
Keith’s instincts wanted to say Lance, simply because part of him wanted to please Lance. He could dissect that thought later. but, in truth, he didn’t know. There were too many different types of magic users. People who relied on artifacts, called on bonded beasts.
“I don’t know.”
Lance pouted, then shrugged. “I suppose you shouldn’t be seen favouring, but you could always go for me.”
It was very forward, Lance seemed to know that. A small blush dusted his cheeks and Keith’s heart did a small flip. Lance looked away, the corners of his mouth lifting.
“I’ll be sure to wish you luck for tomorrow.”
“Shame you’re not a part of it, would be cool to kick your butt.”
Keith snorted, unable to stop his immediate response. “You wish.” He paused, glancing for a bare second to his pocket. “Red’s safety is my priority.”
Understanding filled Lance and Keith relaxed. He smiled.
Lance’s fight was first up. The morning light did little to quell his nerves. He was against a short range elf, a blade of pure earth in their hands. Lance could feel the ground trying to pull him closer, give up his own advantage. It was a swift fight, in the end. Lance was a long-distance archer, arrows of cool ice, more then able to dispatch the elf.
Cheers erupted around the arena, filling Lance with confidence. He eased the elf to their feet, fortunately unharmed – a bruised ego could recover. He bowed to the crowd, unable to stop his own show boating. He was the underdog, winning his first fight with ease. He could do this.
He moved to the stands, allowed to spectate on the second day. He caught Keith’s eyes, eyes naturally locating the fire mage. He flushed, trying to cover it as exertion from the fight. Still, he moved to sit in the empty chair beside the apprentice.
“Good work,” Keith said, meaning it.
Lance smiled, this was so much better then the crowd. “Thanks.”
They watched the next few fights with peaceful conversation flowing. Then, as Lotor entered, Lance felt his body stiffen. He watched, eyes focussed on the fight, the world slipping away. The opponent was an air mage, strong and well trained – served under the previous high mage council. She was ready for this fight.
Lotor’s staff began to glow an unusual red. Lance stared at it, unable to look away, but no one else seemed to see it. Lance saw the runes begin to glow, an uncomfortable purple. Felt the tug in the balance of magic itself, his own core twitching.
This was water magic. The magic of balance. Something wasn’t right.
Lance could only watch as Lotor’s opponent was struck by a well-aimed fist. She went down, hard. The crowd went wild. Lotor stood above her, staff raised, glowing, threatening. The pull got stronger. Lance twitched. Wanted to reach out, but he could do nothing.
“She’s dead,” the crowd went silent.
He saw the truth of what happened though. He watched, eyes wide, as Lotor tipped his head at Lance. A knowing, smug grin on his face.
Lance stood, dragging Keith with him. The chaos around them was enough of a cloak, allowing them to slip out without being seen. Keith followed somewhat blindly, confusion etched to his face. It was better then watching that mage lose her own magic. Keith didn’t know what had happened. No one did, no one else saw. Lance was the only water mage. The only one who could see.
But.
Lotor wasn’t a water mage.
“What did you think?” Lotor’s cool voice made Lance freeze. He tugged Keith behind him the second he regained his bearings.
“You killed her.” He would like to say his voice wasn’t shaky, but it was. He’d seen many people die, had his own hand in it before, but never like that.
“There’s no rules against it.”
Lance’s mouth fell open. He closed it. No, there wasn’t, of course not. Just not harming the crowd. Competitors knew what they were signing up for. “Why?”
“I needed to win,” Lotor said. “Surely you can understand that.”
Lance’s jaw clicked. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Lotor moved closer, stalking his prey. Circling Lance, frozen like his magic. Lance glanced to the staff, but it wasn’t activated. “You water mages have it so good, I’m just taking what I’m owed, Lance. I’m going to win.”
He swanned off, effortless grace and laughter on his features. No sense of remorse for the mage he’d just killed. Lance felt his breath return as Lotor vanished.
“I don’t like him,” Keith said, and Lance had forgotten he’d been there at all. The world came back to him, loud and overwhelming.
“That makes two of us,” Lance said, shivering. He took a step away from the arena, casting it a wounded glance. He sent a silent prayer to the mage, apologising. He couldn’t stop Lotor, he couldn’t. This was just a tournament.
Then, the reality of what had happened crashed down. He turned to Keith, wide eyes landing on where Red’s puff of smoke curled at Keith’s collar. “Sorry, I put you both in danger. Is she safe?”
Keith’s eyes widened slightly, but Lance saw the small red head of a dragon pop from the collar. He relaxed. She was adorable in that size. Lance’s own pocket squirmed, concealed in layers upon layers of charms.
Lance bit his lip, taking more steps away from the arena, Keith at his side. He was the only one who knew what Lotor had done, but he couldn’t tell the officials. Who were they to believe someone from the outlying villages over Lotor, son of a foreign king? No, Lance was on his own for this.
His eyes found Keith. Maybe not alone.
“I need your help.”
Keith frowned, posture stiffening. “I won’t help you cheat.”
Lance blinked. Where had that come from? He’d thought Keith would see him as honourable, he hadn’t said anything about Red. Wouldn’t, of course. Red was a secret that needed to be kept. Lance shook his head, clearing the doubt. He needed Keith’s help. “You have access to the library, right? I need to look at something.”
Keith still looked suspicious, but he seemed to relax slightly. “Ok, but I will send Shiro after you myself if you try something.”
“I think your friend will be more then enough.”
Searching the library took forever. Keith had left after the first hour, unsure what to look for. Lance wasn’t about to explain it, he’d have to explain how he knew the runes and the staff in the first place.
Then, as the sun began to set and darkness flooded the room, he found it. A dust covered tome in the deepest parts of the library. Lance flicked the dust, scanning the passages. Artefacts of the water mage, runes of theft. The staff of Avalon.
Lance almost dropped the book. The staff was designed by a human, for a human. It was designed to take some power from a magical entity and harness it for themselves. The runes weren’t identical, Lotor had changed them. He’d added his own, the bastard.
He’d made it far more powerful. A magical user could steal an entire core. He could feel his own blood cool, ice settling in his veins. Lotor had killed that mage. He’d taken her core. He was going to do it again. He was going to steal everyone’s magic until he won.
Lotor was going to win, whatever it took.
And Lance was against him on the morrow.
He scrambled to find runes that would combat the staff, trying to find anything that would help. He wrote them down, etched them to his own core, felt his magic twitch at the new runes. He closed the book, heart thundering in his chest.
Sleep did not come easily that night.
Keith had a bad feeling. A very bad feeling. He’d woken up, heart in his throat, unable to eat anything. He sat on the edge of his seat, watching the fights. It was the final day. It was the final chance for someone to win the cup, the cup that granted a single gift. It was what they were all fighting for.
Lance was up soon.
His opponent was Lotor. The man who’d killed four other opponents already.
Someone tapped his shoulder and he jumped, spinning. Lance was there, blending in the shadows. He wore a hood, cloaking himself. No one would recognise him.
“Shouldn’t you be getting ready?”
Lance glanced to the arena, something like fear flickering on his face. He’d won the rest of his fights already, with a significant amount of ease too. A beautiful thing to watch. “I’ve got time, I need your help.”
“I’m not helping you cheat,” Keith said, gut churning. Were his instincts wrong about Lance? Was this the only reason Lance had sought him out? To cheat? Because he was Shiro’s student, or because of Red? He should be used to it, used to being used.
Seeing the look on Lance’s face though, it wasn’t it.
“Of course not, I can look after myself,” and he looked so offended that Keith almost laughed. Of course he could. Lance bit his lip, reaching into his pocket. Keith hadn’t even noticed the pocket before. Lance looked unsure, hesitating, and Keith knew this was serious. “I need to know I can trust you, Keith.”
He heard the tone. The concern. He heard the fear. “You can trust me, Lance.” Despite having met two days ago, Lance knew Keith’s biggest secret. And he hadn’t told anyone. Hadn’t even used it against him. Lance knew how special Red was.
Lance looked around, then passed something directly to Keith’s hands. He looked down, finding a small, blue pouch.
“Protect that with your life, Keith. Swear to me. If something happens to me, you protect her with your life.”
Keith frowned. Had Lance just passed him a pet? But, seeing the look on Lance’s face, the fear, the concern, the trust, he nodded. “I swear, I will protect this with my life.” He paused, the reality crushing back in. “Lance, what’s going on?”
“I’ll tell you if I survive. I’m about to fight Lotor.”
Keith’s stomach dropped. No one had so much as touched Lotor before he’d killed them. It was well within the rules, of course, the man hadn’t been seen to use magic to do it either. There was nothing they could do.
“Be careful,” Keith said, gripping Lance’s arm.
The water mage offered a small, shaky smile. “I am. Kiss for luck?”
Keith’s face felt aflame, the shock of it making his mouth open.
Lance laughed, bouncing away with a new pep in his step. “Close enough.”
Keith took his seat, somewhat shaky and unsure, Shiro watching him curiously. Keith sucked in a breath, before curiosity got the better of him. He cast a small shrouding spell over himself, taking out the bag.
There, hiding behind layers of Lance’s own protective spells, was a small, blue dragon.
Lance wasn’t nervous. He didn’t do nervous.
He was terrified. He’d given Blue to Keith, the man who had his own dragon, who knew how important they were. He’d given the one being he needed to protect above all else to a virtual stranger.
Blue would be fine, he knew it. She’d been the one to suggest it, after all. She was safer with Keith then with him, in the arena, against a magic stealing mage. Lance couldn’t protect her against Lotor. Not whilst he had the staff, not alone, not without a proper plan.
He entered the ring.
Lotor laid cool eyes on Lance, lit with glee. “Nothing personal, Lance. This is just business, you understand.”
Lance hummed, feeling the runes he’d painted along his skin light up, his core strengthening in his heart. The staff began to glow, the ominous red threatening and angry. He felt the pull at his magic, felt the water between them at war, bending to the strongest will.
Lotor rushed for him, but Lance moved. He danced away, he needed to make this believable. He felt the magic seep to the crystal, his core weakening where the runes slipped. Small amounts Lance had allowed, knowing Lotor would see through him otherwise.
They danced, Lance aiming his bow the second he got far enough away, but Lotor was fast. He’d absorbed air magic. He was using it.
Lance went down with a fist to the face. He didn’t get up when the crystal stopped glowing, the tug fading from his core, weak but still there.
The crowd was silent.
“Lotor’s the victor!”
Lance was alive, breathing unsteady in his chest. Lotor scowled down at him, trying to reignite the staff, confused, angry, desperate. He had to know Lance knew what he’d tried to do. Instead, Lance just coughed, the runes around his core strengthening, tightening, refusing to give. Lotor would have no more of his magic.
Then, because Lance had read Lotor all wrong and he hadn’t figured it out, the man laughed. He leant down to Lance, a sneer in his eyes. “Guess your magic wasn’t strong enough.”
Lance sagged to the ground, waiting to be carried off. He miscalculated how much he’d given the staff, it would take a bit longer to recover. But, he would. His heart was ice, his body water. He was the physical embodiment of the water element. To drain him was impossible for a staff like that, despite Lotor’s best efforts.
Keith found him in the medical tent, concern etched to his features. He passed the bag back immediately, and Lance smiled down at Blue, who growled at him. She’d hated the plan, she’d wanted to take Lotor out on the spot. Plan B wasn’t her favourite.
The tent was empty, aside the angry fire mage. Lance sagged on the cot, pulling the dragon to his chest. He coughed.
“What the hell was that, Lance? You owe me an explanation.”
“Not here.”
Keith’s shoulders were set. He eased Lance to his feet, then dragged them towards the castle. Soon enough, they were in Keith’s chambers. Blue escaped the bag, joining Red in the nest with glee, growing several sizes.
“She’s beautiful,” Keith said, watching the two dragons settle. It was like they’d known each other for years, they were so relaxed.
“She is, so is Red.”
They sat on the soft bed and Lance looked at his clasped hands. “Ok, look, I know this is crazy, but I need you to trust me. Lotor is stealing magic with his staff.”
“How do you know that?”
“Water magic, water is balance. Control. I was looking for a book yesterday, I found it. Lotor is only going to get stronger. If he finds those two, it’s over.”
“You gave me Blue because you knew she’d be safe,” Keith’s voice was soft, awed. His eyes were wide, looking only at the two dragons.
“I did. And I think we need to work together,” Lance took a breath. He wasn’t ready for all of this. He’d come for a tournament, not to fight some power hungry, magic stealing mage. “Lotor’s going to get power mad.”
Keith’s jaw set. “Ok. How?”
“I don’t know yet.”
They were no closer to finding a solution when it happened. A huge dark cloud shrouded the citadel. Keith watched an unusual rain fall over the city. He watched someone turn to stone. Watched several more turn to stone.
Lance was standing next to him, blue eyes cold. “Power hungry.”
“He’s going to steal their magic when they can’t even fight back.”
The room grew colder, a cool fog spreading the corners of the room. The spell had breached the castle. Keith looked around, trying to find something to counteract the ice magic, but there was nothing. Then, he saw his dragon.
In a flurry of motion, Keith found himself trapped beneath two huge dragons, a cool body pressed at his side. Keith watched Blue and Red growl, magic radiating from them, shrouding them from the curse.
“This would be a good time to figure out a plan,” Red said, wings arching to block a reaching tendril of the curse.
Lance was listening to something Blue had said, eyes glowing a bright blue in the darkness. Keith had never seen that in someone else. The only people whose eyes glowed were those whose cores were the element entirely.
Keith knew because he was the flame element. His body was fire and ash. He was fire magic.
“So, everyone’s been turned to stone, that’s fun,” Lance said, turning glowing eyes back to Keith.
“Except us, we’ve got dragons.”
Lance rolled his eyes, an easy smile on amused lips. “We have dragons. Oh, but if Lotor finds them..”
“He won’t,” Keith said, cutting Lance off. “We’ve come this far protecting them, we can handle it a bit longer. You’re the man with the plan, so what is it?”
Lance hummed, chest vibrating against Keith’s. He looked down at his arms, glowing runes littered along exposed skin. Keith watched, wanted to see more of it. He shook the thought away. Now was not the time.
“I have an idea,” Lance said, meeting Keith’s eyes. “How strong are you?”
He grinned, eyes beginning to flare a burning amber. Lance watched, the glow of his own flickering in surprise. “Well, I’d say about as strong as you, ice core.”
Lance was practically glowing, a smile stretching his lips. “Excellent.”
It was easy moving through the castle, passing people who’d been turned to stone. They passed servants, frozen in terror. Nobles who’d been attempting to fan the fog away. Keith saw Shiro, spell raised with no direction. Keith’s heart sank. If Shiro was affected by the spell, could they even stop it?
Lance’s hand found Keith’s shoulder, a soft look on his face. “He’s going to be fine, Keith. Come on.”
They walked together, two enormous dragons shadowing them. He’d never thought he’d meet another dragon, much less one attached to such a being. Lance was so different to the people of the palace. Cool, collected even under the threat of literal death.
Stepping outside, the spotted Lotor. He was dancing, gliding through the crowd. Stealing magic from anyone he could, laughing as their bodies collapsed beneath the spells. The curse lost its grip when there was nothing to hold.
Keith shivered, turning to Lance. He saw the glowing blue eyes, focused only on Lotor. Then, he tilted his head, listening to Blue.
“Oh,” Lance said, standing tall. “Are you sure?”
Keith cocked his head to Red, who looked mildly horrified. Great, he was the only one out of the loop.
“Can someone please tell me what’s going on?”
Lance jolted, startling. He looked sheepishly at Keith. “Oh, you can’t hear Blue. Right. She said I need to get the staff from him. She also said I’ll need to wield it. Water and all.”
“Ok, but how do we do that? Lotor won’t just relinquish the staff.”
Lance bit his lip, looking down. “The staff can only hold so much. The capacity is not endless. It was not designed to hold an entire core.”
Keith froze. “No, you can’t be serious. You’ll die, Lance. There has to be another way.”
Lance looked amused, smiling at Keith. He shook his head. “One life over everyone else’s,” he sounded wistful, turning back to Lotor. “We need to work together. The staff will reject you if it knows I’m around. A fire core is too much for water.”
“Shouldn’t I be the one to take it then?”
“You’d die if you tried to touch it.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah, so, lets just work together. Blue, I’ll need you.” He looked to Red, then to Keith. “I know it’s dangerous but-"
“I’ll help,” Red said, taking a step towards Keith. She looked tall, proud. Ready. The fierce warrior she was born to be.
“She’s in.”
“Great. Ok. Let’s do this.”
Lance gritted his teeth, feeling Lotor pulling the magic from a young pixie. She wasn’t even part of the tournament. The magic moved from her to the staff with no resistance, growing more strength the more it pulled. It couldn’t handle much more, Lance could only hope.
Without thinking it through, he conjured his bow, shooting an arrow of pure ice right for Lotor. He stayed within the shadows, glowing eyes focussed only on the threat. He shrouded his dragon with a cloud of fog, the shadows making it look more natural.
The arrow struck Lotor’s arm, knocking the connection from him and the pixie, saving her life.
It was the only moment Lance got to relax.
Lotor snarled, eyes snapping around and locking on the water mage. His focus was only on Lance, he hadn’t seen the wall of fog, or the mage beside him. Good. The dark sorcerer took a step forwards, then several more. The power of the staff made him hungry, uncoordinated, clumsy.
“I wondered who’d stopped me from killing you,” Lotor drawled, several paces from Lance, who’d stepped from the shadows. No point hiding now. He watched the runes begin to glow, a more dangerous, dark purple then ever. “I will enjoy this.” Lotor raised the staff, and Lance felt the magic swirling around.
“I think you’re forgetting something,” Lance said, grinning. Despite it all, he found himself grinning. It was probably adrenaline, he’d worry about that later. But, as the staff continued to tug, trying to get his magic, trying to steal the life from himself, he allowed himself to be cocky. “Aren’t you curious as to how?”
Lotor snarled. “Why should it matter, you’ll be dead?”
“Didn’t work the first time,” from the corner of his eye, Lance saw Keith getting into position. He felt his own magic warring with the staff, reaching out to meet it, tangle, taunt it. He was in control here. The staff reached further, reaching for his own bond with Blue, tugging at something else. Lance blocked it off, a wall of magic blocking the staff, aided by his own runes. No one touched Blue.
“Do you want to know how it works, Lotor?”
“Steal magic from others, seems simple enough to me.”
“Yeah, of course. But do you know why?” Lotor growled, trying to get the staff to work, raising it, thrusting it at Lance. The staff worked harder, and Lance fought against it, feeling the drain on his own resolve, but he needed to give Keith a chance. Had to trust him. Hold Lotor’s attention. Keith wouldn’t stand a chance against the staff, even with the runes.
“It’s a water staff, did you know? Water provides life, it can take it away. Only those of water would know.” He sank to his knees, grimacing as the magic began to tug at his core, runes on his skin glowing fiercely. The staff had grown so much more powerful then the last he’d fought it. From the corner of his eye, he caught Keith, wielding a sword of pure flame.
“Why aren’t you dead?” Lotor growled, taking a step closer.
Lance grinned, lifting his head. “What an excellent question. Might have something to do with these,” he rolled up his sleeves to the glowing runes he’d painted there. “Or my core.”
“You’re stalling,” Lotor snarled, and he whirled around.
Keith was ready, he was there, sword raised. Lance collapsed as the staff was no longer fixed on him, the magic no longer taught. He watched Keith, saw the staff activate again.
A huge, dark creature flew towards them, ripping the staff from Lotor’s hands. Blue changed forms, looming over Lance, fog streaming from her nostrils as she bared her teeth at Lotor. Red took several steps into the light, wings flared and smoke billowing from her own nostrils as she stood behind Keith.
Without the staff, Lotor was a formidable swordsman. He lunged for Keith, weapon raised and ready, clashing with flame. Keith was a trained swordsman, Lance could happily watch him again, if he wasn’t so weak.
The fight was over in a blink.
Red swallowed him whole.
“That’s one way to deal with it,” Keith said, looking up at his dragon, something like disgust and pride battling his chest. Red merely licked her lips.
“He did not taste good,” Red said, sticking her tongue out.
Keith moved to Lance, the other mage having collapsed with the staff in hand. Blue loomed above him, letting Keith pass with a small nod. He knelt, easing Lance’s head into his lap.
“Did it work?” Lance’s voice was sloppy, lazy, exhausted. He looked like he’d been fighting a war, not a single person.
“Yeah, he’s gone.”
Lance hummed, closing his eyes. “Good, good.” He sagged, fingers loosing their grip on the staff. It clattered to the floor, Keith keeping sure to move from it’s range. “We should probably end the curse.”
“Maybe,” Keith agreed.
“Give me a minute.”
Blue said something to Lance and he shook his head. Then, he paused. “Would that work?” she said something else, looking affronted. Lance had the good sense to look abashed.
“It will work,” Red said, looking just as deadly as ever.
“Then do it,” Lance said, thrusting the staff at the two dragons. Keith watched, frozen in horror, as the staff touched his own dragon.
Instead of howling in pain, the two dragons began to glow. Flames covered Red’s scales, and water poured from Blue’s. Keith pulled Lance close, away from the magical beasts as they broke the staff. Shattered it. Burnt it.
Magic flew wildly in all directions, free at last. Keith watched the dragons consume the darkest parts, swallowing them to their scales. They both released breaths of ice and fire, streams of magic raining over the cursed city.
A cloud of mist shrouded the citadel. The magic touched down, releasing trapped souls from their prisons. Keith watched the arena come back to life, watched those who were trapped wake. He saw the moment people realised the scope of those lost.
Bodies of magical beings littered the arena. Elves, witches, pixies. The young pixie Lance had saved woke, weak and drained, but alive. Other magical beings who’d been saved rushed to her aid.
Keith looked down to Lance as magic poured back to him. The magic from the staff, what was left of it, filling his cheeks with colour.
He went to sit and Keith eased him up. Lance coughed, looking around. Red and Blue still loomed protectively above them, but for the first time, Keith knew it was a good thing. They wouldn’t get any closer, not with the enormous beasts standing so aggressively, so ready to attack.
People had begun to notice the enormous beasts, alarmed and fearful. Most people had never seen a dragon, let alone two. They didn’t dare get closer. Red had just eaten one person, she’d eat more to defend her people.
The princess made her way through the crowd, Shiro at her side. Keith kept himself at Lance’s side, too weak to stand. The dragons kept them at bay, though Red did look guilty about not letting Shiro through. Blue didn’t know them, though, and Red was following her lead.
“Keith, are you alright?” Shiro called, standing several paces from the dragons. Blue looked terrifying, water dripping from her nostrils, preparing to protect Lance from the unknown threat.
“We’re ok,” Keith said, jostling Lance slightly.
“Shiro looked between the dragons, face appearing in a gap. “How did you not get trapped?”
“Dragon,” Keith said, shrugging.
“Creatures born of pure magic,” Allura said, as though the answer wasn’t explanatory. “Thank you, both of you. Is he alright?”
“Just fine, princess,” Lance said, turning his head to watch her with a small, what Keith would describe as flirty smile. “Though perhaps a kiss from your lovely lips would help.”
Keith scowled down at the boy in his lap. “She’s betrothed.”
“A shame,” Lance said, but Keith knew, he meant nothing of it. He lay in Keith’s lap, quite content there. “We did it, we are a good team.”
“Fire and ice,” Keith hummed, smiling. “Stronger together.”
Lance smiled, limbs dropping more. “I’m going to pass out now. Be good, Blue.”
Keith watched him slump, loosing the fight with consciousness. Keith stood, picking Lance up as he did. The dragons parted, watching him carefully. “I’m going to take him to my rooms, you coming?”
The dragons both nodded, shrinking only enough so they would fit into the castle space.
“I’ll send Coran up,” Allura said, watching Keith go.
“It’s magical exhaustion, there’s nothing he can do.”
Lance blinked awake slowly. His eyes landed on a beautiful canopy of drapes, a sunlit room, a beautiful bed. Far nicer then anything he’d ever been in before. He saw his dragon, curled around another at the foot of his bed.
Turning, he saw Keith sitting upright, reading. He’d been awake a while, something about having the fire mage beside his sleeping form sent shivers through his body. Pleasant shivers. The kind where he wanted to be closer to the radiating warmth.
Noticing he was awake, Keith shut the book. Two sets of glowing eyes landed on him from the end of the bed.
“How do you feel?”
“Ok,” Lance said. His magic felt weak, but not so much that he was defenceless. His body had absorbed what was left of the staff’s magic, and it was working into his core. Rejecting bits of magic that wasn’t compatible with his own.
“Hungry? Thirsty? Hurt?”
“Lotor didn’t touch me. Did he hurt you?”
“I’m a swordsman, that was nothing.”
Lance nodded, slumping onto the soft pillows. “We did it.”
Keith nodded, soft purple eyes watching blue.
They lapsed into silence and Lance settled back to the cushions. They’d done it. Despite all odds, and they were stacked against them, they’d done it. But a duo of virtual strangers had managed to save the day, conflicting magic and all.
What were the odds he’d meet a fire core on his first day?
This felt oddly like destiny.
Lance moved closer to Keith, seeking out the comfortable warmth. The fire mage released a breath, Lance could feel him twitch at the cool body against him. Cold skin on warm. He fell back to sleep, feeling his own magic reaching out to hold Keith’s.
“Are you heading home then?”
Lance frowned, pulling on his clothes. He hadn’t thought about that. The tournament was over, he should want to get back to his family. But something in his had changed. Someone had changed him.
“I don’t know.”
“You could stay, Shiro would take on a second apprentice.”
Lance could hear the soft plea. The desire for him to stay. “Would I get my own room?”
“You would.”
Lance dropped onto the bed dramatically, almost knocking Red from her nest. “But yours are so much more comfortable.”
Keith’s face flushed the colour of his magic and Lance grinned. He stood up, moving to Keith’s side. Watched him carefully. Blue eyes on purple. He wasn’t sure what Keith saw, but he knew the moment Keith softened.
“I don’t want to stay for Altea,” Lance said, because he didn’t. He wasn’t a knight, not really. He was a peasant boy, but he carried on before Keith could deflate. “I want to stay for you. If that’s not too forward.”
Keith looked so damn beautiful as he smiled. He surged forwards, claiming Lance’s lips with his own. Fire met ice, and sparks flooded the room. It was quite literally the most magical thing Lance could imagine.
A cough sounded, and the two parted, startled. They turned, and Lance saw the princess and high mage at the door. They looked amused but paused when they saw they’d woken the dragon’s too. Blue and Red both grew several sizes, eyes glaring. Blue still hadn’t warmed to the castle dwellers, but Lance hadn’t given her a chance, locked in this room for days.
“Princess,” Keith said, nodding.
“I wanted to thank you,” Allura said. She ignored the dragons, moving closer. In her hands, she held a cup. The cup. The cup of Altea. Lance stared at it, feeling the power from the magical artefact. It was so different from the staff. It was gentle, coursing, intense, but it felt light, joyful, free.
“Just doing what’s right,” Lance said, taking Keith’s hand to his own. He felt unfamiliar warmth flood him when Keith squeezed back.
“Doing what’s right is not always the easiest thing,” Shiro said. “You two were braver than any of us. The kingdom is in your debt.”
“I take my payments in fish,” Lance said, grinning. “Blue eats me out of house and home.”
“That can be arranged,” The princess said seriously.
Lance blinked. Well then.
“It’s come to my attention that you are the rightful winner of the tournament,” Allura said, meeting Lance’s eyes. “Shiro mentioned you threw your round.”
Lance swallowed, glancing to Keith. “I mean-”
She held up a hand, and Lance saw the same look of confusion mirrored on Keith’s features. Instead, the princess held out the cup, only a proud, pleased smile on her lips.
Lance reached forwards, taking it with ginger hands. It glowed a bright purple, filling the space with a radiant magic. He looked away, spotted his dragon shifting closer. The cup grew warm, pleasant in his cool hands.
As the glow faded, something formed in the cup. Small, purple. Blinking up at Lance. He felt a bond drawing at his core, new runes drawn as a purple string connected him to this new soul. Mixing, twining with his very being. Adding to the existing bond, strengthening both.
Keith jolted at his side, looking at the baby dragon in awe. Lance felt why a moment later. Saw why. The dragon had bonded to them both. The small, powerful dragon, had two mages.
Lance took the dragon into his hands, passing the cup back to the princess. She took it with a smile, watching the baby dragon. Keith took Lance’s hand softly, a gentle, happy smile on his lips.
“Hello, Albion.”