I’d been sitting outside the council building for over two hours now, and the stone bench beneath me felt colder with every passing minute. My leg wouldn’t stop bouncing, a clear sign of the nerves gnawing at me. I wasn’t exactly used to feeling... well, anxious. But this wasn’t just another mission. This was different.

  I glanced up at the towering spires of the building, its shadow looming over me, and my stomach twisted. Thorian and Maelor were in there, with the Council. Every time I thought about it, a fresh wave of tension hit me. I ran a hand through my hair, trying to keep my thoughts from spiraling out of control. What had I set in motion?

  Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe bringing Thorian to Aether wasn’t just risky—it was reckless. The Council wasn’t exactly known for taking kindly to surprises, especially not ones that came wrapped in the form of a Shadow Celestial. There was a very real possibility I’d be punished for this. The thought of it made my chest tighten.

  But even with that fear hovering over me, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I’d done the right thing. It wasn’t just a gut instinct; it was something more. I believed that bringing Thorian here might just tip the scales for Aether. It was either going to help us—or destroy us. I had no illusions about that. The stakes were high, and I’d put Aether in a dangerous position.

  But... that’s what we do, right? We take risks. We make choices that others might call foolish because, in the end, they could be what saves us. That’s what I believed, anyway. And I trusted the people of Aether—the Council, Maelor—that they’d be smart enough to figure out how to tip those scales toward the “helping” side rather than the “destroying” one.

  I sighed, leaning back against the stone wall behind me. Thorian. The man was... something. Strong, sure, but not just in a physical way. There was a kind of weight to him. A presence. Like he carried more than just power—like he carried an entire history on his back, and it was heavy. And that power of his? I’d never seen anything like it. Shadows, dark and sharp, almost alive in the way they responded to him. It made him... unpredictable.

  I smiled a little, thinking back to the fight we’d had together. He was good, no doubt about it. The way we moved in sync during that fight, it almost felt natural. Which was strange, considering I’d just met him. But there was something about fighting alongside him that worked, even though it shouldn’t have. It was like... we balanced each other out. Where I was air, quick and light, he was shadow—solid, grounded, but always shifting. And let’s be honest, there’s something kind of fun about throwing a Furybeast into the air and watching him tear it apart mid-flight.

  I chuckled to myself. “Maybe I’m getting ahead of myself,” I muttered. “It was one fight. Doesn’t mean we’re a legendary duo or anything.”

  But still, the thought lingered. There was something there, something... different. I hadn’t expected to get along with someone like him. Shadow Celestial. Just the words made people flinch. And yet, there we were, fighting side by side like it was nothing.

  “Yeah, and maybe I should just shut up before the Council throws me in a cell for reckless endangerment,” I muttered under my breath. That’d be something. “Taron, the kid who got himself locked up for trying to help.” Not exactly a legendary ending.

  Still, I couldn’t help but grin at the thought of it. Thorian wasn’t like the stories we’d heard. He wasn’t just darkness and danger. There was more to him. I could feel it. And that’s why I had to believe in this decision, even if it felt like the weight of Aether was pressing down on my chest. Because if he really was here to destroy us, I was pretty sure I’d know by now.

  Another sigh escaped me as I stared back up at the building. “Come on, Maelor. How long can they keep you in there?”

  "Talking to yourself now, Taron? Guess you're really running out of company," came a voice from behind me, light and teasing, as if it had caught me right in the middle of some embarrassing moment. Which, to be fair, it had.

  I spun around, already smirking at the interruption, and found myself face-to-face with Vela, one of the most graceful Aquorians I knew. Her skin shimmered in the soft light, flickering between hues of blue and green, and her bright violet eyes had that unmistakable glow that only came from living in the ocean depths. She was tall and fluid in her movements, almost as if she was always swimming, even on land. She wasn’t alone, of course. Next to her stood a Lizardfolk, her scales dark and sleek, glinting faintly in the sun. This one was shorter, more solid, but there was a sleek power to her movements—her sharp green eyes locked onto me with amusement.

  The Aquorian was already laughing at me, her smile wide and mischievous. “Don’t tell me you’ve been sitting here, having full conversations with yourself.”

  I blinked, then grinned back, leaning into the joke. “When the company’s as good as me, it’s hard to resist.”

  The Aquorian snorted, crossing her arms with an amused flick of her iridescent gills. “I’m sure. The legendary Taron, talking himself into all sorts of trouble.”

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  The Lizardfolk beside her, S’varra, who I’d come to know quite well, raised an eyebrow, her expression a familiar mixture of curiosity and amusement. “If you need someone to talk to, Taron, we’re always here for you. Not that we can replace yourself,” she teased, her voice a deep, slow rasp that somehow still managed to sound playful.

  I laughed, feeling the tension of the last few hours lift a little. “I’ll keep that in mind,” I said, turning my attention to Vela, who was eyeing me with her usual predatory gleam of mischief. “You and your conversational skills always keep things interesting.”

  Vela gave a mock bow, one hand over her heart as she gracefully leaned forward. “Guilty as charged. And you, Taron, never fail to keep life... let’s call it ‘eventful.’”

  S’varra’s tail flicked behind her as she smirked. “Interesting is one word for it. Dangerous is another.”

  I rolled my eyes, giving them both a dramatic bow, arms sweeping wide. “Dangerous? Me? I’m as harmless as a summer breeze.”

  Vela arched an elegant brow, the iridescent scales on her arms catching the light as she crossed them. “Harmless, right. As if you don’t find trouble wherever you go.”

  S'varra tilted her head, eyes narrowing playfully. “I’m more curious about what you've been up to lately. You’ve got that ‘I did something reckless’ look.”

  Vela gave me a knowing look, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “Reckless? Taron? Never. He’s practically the picture of responsibility.”

  S'varra snorted softly, crossing her arms. “Right, because every time we see him, he’s not in the middle of some wild adventure that could go wrong in ten different ways.”

  I grinned. “What can I say? I like to keep things exciting.”

  Vela shook her head, laughing. “Exciting or not, you’ve got that glint in your eye. What are you not telling us?”

  I shrugged, giving her an innocent look. “Who, me? I’ve been on my best behavior.”

  S'varra tilted her head, the tip of her tail flicking behind her. “Best behavior? Now I’m really suspicious.”

  Vela nudged S’varra with her elbow. “Maybe he’s got more luck than brains.”

  I held up my hands in mock surrender. “Hey, when you’ve got both, why not use them?”

  S’varra’s eyes gleamed with amusement. “Careful, Taron. Confidence can be dangerous. But it suits you.” Her tail flicked again, this time more thoughtfully.

  I grinned, feeling the warmth in their teasing. It was good-natured, even if the topic was something that could have sent most people running. But they were different—like me, I suppose. They didn’t see the world in black and white.

  Vela circled me slowly, her lithe body moving with the grace only an Aquorian could have. “Well, dangerous or not, I’ve got to say, you’ve been quite the gentleman during all of this,” she said with a smirk, her violet eyes twinkling. “Too bad we’re not interested in men, Taron. You’d be trouble if we were.”

  I laughed and straightened, offering a deep, playful bow once more. “The loss, ladies, is entirely mine, I assure you.”

  S’varra, who rarely laughed aloud, let out a soft chuckle at that. “Careful, Vela. You’ll make him blush.”

  I shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “Blushing is overrated anyway.”

  Vela shot me a wink, her grin widening. “I like this one, S’varra. Let’s keep him around.”

  S’varra tilted her head, the tip of her tongue flicking out in thought. “As long as he doesn’t start talking to himself again.”

  We all laughed, the tension from the day melting away in the easy conversation. It was good to have this—this break, this lightness. Because even though everything felt like it was teetering on the edge of something big, something dangerous, moments like this reminded me that not everything was doom and gloom. There were still jokes to be made, still time to enjoy the company of people like Vela and S’varra, even in the shadow of a looming storm.

  Vela glanced toward the council building, her smile softening. “So, seriously, what’s taking them so long in there? You’re not... worried, are you?”

  Her question hit me harder than I expected. I stayed still for a second, trying not to let it show, then quickly shifted my stance, playing it off. “Worried? About what?”

  S'varra raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “The guy you came back with, Taron. The one who’s now stuck in the council chambers. That does ring a bell, right?”

  Vela added, her tone more curious than accusatory, “Yeah, we saw him when you got back. Who is he? What’s his story?”

  I felt a flicker of tension creep into my chest. Thorian. Of course they’d noticed. I couldn’t exactly lie to them, but I wasn’t about to spill everything either. “He’s just... someone we crossed paths with on the mission. Helped us out of a tight spot, so Maelor thought it was worth bringing him back to Aether.” I kept it vague, hoping they’d leave it at that.

  Vela wasn’t so easily convinced. “Helped you out of a tight spot, huh? That’s not exactly a glowing recommendation. Who is he? He looked... different.”

  S’varra leaned forward slightly, her keen eyes narrowing. “And you’re being awfully careful with your words. What aren’t you telling us?”

  I felt the pressure of their stares, the weight of their curiosity. They weren’t the kind to push too hard, but I knew they weren’t going to let me off the hook either. I sighed, trying to keep it light. “Look, it’s complicated. He’s... useful, but I get that he’s not exactly what you’d expect. But Maelor trusts him enough to let him in, and that should be enough for now.”

  Vela exchanged a glance with S'varra, and for a moment, I thought they’d keep pressing. Instead, Vela’s expression softened, her usual teasing tone absent. “Taron, we trust you. You’re smart, and you don’t do things without thinking. If you brought this guy back, there’s a reason. We get that.”

  S'varra nodded in agreement. “And look, we’re not the type to see things in black and white. A lot of people in Aether might freak out, but we’re not exactly the ‘freak out’ type.”

  I chuckled, grateful for their support. “No, you’re not.”

  Vela smirked, leaning back. “Exactly. So, if you think this guy has something to offer, we’ll back you up. You don’t have to tell us everything, but we’re on your side.”

  I felt a bit of the tension ease from my shoulders. They weren’t asking for more details, they weren’t prying; they just wanted to let me know they had my back. It was a relief—one I hadn’t realized I needed.

  “Thanks,” I said, my voice more sincere than I’d intended. “I appreciate it.”

  S’varra gave me a sharp grin. “Don’t get all emotional on us, Taron. You’ve got enough on your plate.”

  Vela laughed. “Yeah, save the heartfelt speeches for when you’re really in trouble.”

  “Noted,” I said, shaking my head with a smile.