Heir of Dust and Wind

Chapter 38 - Confessions

From where he sat atop one of the southernmost mountain peaks that marked the border between Ava's and Frode's territories in the east, Trygve overlooked the terrain.

After the disaster during their training, he had simply flown, wanting to hear nothing but the rush of the wind in his ears and to feel nothing but the air beneath his wings.  He had needed to get away from all the thoughts and emotions, all the memories and the confusing feelings.  Above all, he had needed to escape the overwhelming sense of shame that had flooded him once he realised what he had done. Ava's fury, Gainor's insecurity, it had simply been too much.

Even though he had said he'd go on patrol, he hadn't paid attention to anything. Yet another thing he felt bad about, now that some of the raging storms of emotions had subsided.  What a giant mess.

He roared in frustration, the sound echoing through the planes below. Startling the bronze-coloured dragon who had landed a short distance away.

Although his thoughts had been in turmoil, he had soon realised that Gainor had been following him.  At first, it had made him angry again. Wasn't it obvious that he wanted to be left alone?

Given his violent outburst and the burning feeling of regret that now filled his chest, however, Trygve hadn't trusted himself to address his desire for solitude appropriately and the longer they were in the air, he had realised that Gainor was keeping a respectful distance.  The other dragon had even circled the mountains for some time when Trygve had landed here. Only when it had been clear that he wouldn't move on,  the other male had landed as well, not too far away.

Feeling a rather brisk wind pick up, Trygve willed his body to change forms. 

After all these centuries it was no longer painful, merely a strong sensation of pressure and the prickling of magic accompanied the transformation, nothing compared to the agony he had felt when it had happened for the first time. Not for the first time, he wondered, why this was the time that those long-forgotten memories resurfaced.

Now, in his human form, the breeze felt cooler on his skin, more intense, fresher, cleaner and somehow soothing, although the air this far up was so cold that it almost bit into his face. Closing his eyes and inhaling deep, even breaths, he tried to let the last of his anger fade away and shake off the confusing feelings and unwelcome memories.

Goosebumps rippled over his forearms and broke his concentration. The wind had carried over some of the magic as Gainor had also changed his form.

With a sigh, Trygve opened his eyes again.

It had no sense. Whatever he had tried so far, he had not managed to regain the state of utter calm and indifference he had willed himself into during the many years of service to Frode. Somehow it had gotten lost along the way and he didn't know how to get it back.

At times, he felt liberated when he no longer had to keep everything to himself, but there were also times, particularly today, when it all was so confusing and agonising and painful, sometimes all of these things at once. Even more irritatingly, his usual coping mechanisms, like training or going on patrol, focusing on the task at hand, didn't help at all.

He needed to apologize, to all of them, that much was clear. But would it be enough? Would Ava distrust him because of what he had done? Would Gainor too? And what about the Fae? Where should he even start?

Before the enormity of it all could come crashing down on him again, he took another deep breath. Trying to regain some of his focus. One step in front of the other, not all of them at once.

Suddenly, it was clear to him where to start. After all, one possible starting point was only this one step away. Why hadn't he thought of this sooner?

Looking over his shoulder to where Gainor sat on a big rock, Trygve took a moment to observe the other male.