Luminous

72 - Turning Point

A smattering of stars twinkled on the night sky, whereas down on the earth, eight tiny orbs of acid-green glowed steady, aligned like a constellation against the endless black expanse of sand.

Another night of dragon training was proceeding smoothly under Coris's supervision, aided by Christopher, Simon and Zier, who took turns patrolling to ensure all dream-gazers weren't being traumatized by their visions.

Zier's hand flew to his tummy as he walked past Heloise, the last stop before the end of his shift. At the sight of her troubled expression and constant fidgeting and sighing, the knot of anxiety in his stomach, ever present since the night he swallowed The Axel—loosened, and he let his hand swing free at his side as he moved on. Coris would rake him over the coals for this had he happen to be watching—t was a dead giveaway. Yet, he couldn't help it. The privacy of his guts depended on the Lady Graye not obtaining dragon powers.

Fortunately, Coris seemed to be distracted for once—he stood propped against a boulder, engrossed in amicable conversation with Christopher.

The Meriton heir glanced up as Zier trudged towards them, dipped his head at Coris to signal his leave, then walked over. He met Zier halfway with a clap on his shoulder, then strode on to take up the patrol.

Coris shot Zier a smile when he settled into Chris's place, then turned away. His eyes roamed the sandy plain as he toyed with his cloak's clasp, but he wasn't actually watching the dragon cadets.

Seconds dragged by with no interaction whatsoever between the brothers. Zier was on the verge of fleeing for somewhere else with more breathable air, when Coris broke the silence,

"Thank you—back there. I was at my wit's end, to be honest."

Zier whipped around. In the dim light, blotches of pink dabbed Coris's pale cheeks, and he still refused to meet his gaze. Zier had never seen this side of his brother before. Coris had always been the commander. The erudite. The priest. Now, he seemed lost and embarrassed—perhaps even afraid.

Zier caught himself smiling, and quickly turned away to share it with the stars. Coris was a clam—spook him and the doors to his insides would slam shut faster than a blink. A strip of weed fluttered over to his foot. He bent down to catch it before the sudden gust of wind could tug it away.

"Well—feelings—have never been your forte, big brother." He huffed as he straightened up, spinning the grass stem before his eyes. It was still green, and there was a tiny flower at its tip.

"I've always known, but when you said you drank poison in my place just to win me over, when all you had to do was muster up the guts to apologize, I realized you're utterly hopeless."

Zier knelt down and erected the flower in the earth under the boulder's shade. He straightened up to find Coris gawking at him. Dumb surprise didn't look good on the Hadrian heir, and Zier couldn't help chuckling.

"You see—me, Arinel, Meya—we're humans. Creatures of emotion." He cocked his head, concluding with a dry jab, "You're a golem."

Coris frowned as he considered it.

"Under normal circumstances, I'd consider that a compliment, but I must admit this is starting to concern me." He let out a heavy sigh, seeming to shrink a few inches.

"Because it's Meya?" Zier struggled with all his might to hide his knowing smile. Coris burned magenta in the bluish-white starlight.

"No—because I'm the Hadrian heir!" He spun away and began pacing. Zier watched in amusement. "I was born to lead, but whenever my subordinates look to me for guidance, I'm useless at best and harmful at worst. Whenever I'm faced with their emotions, I'm flummoxed."