White Quartz | Xaden Riorson | T/T

XLI

・・・　・・・　・・・

     "Wake up."
     My brows furrow, igniting consciousness back into my brain. A small hum escapes my throat without intention.
     "We are leaving soon. Get ready," Tairn instructs. His voice is surprisingly quiet. I crack my eyes open to pitch black, then lazily flick my wrist to spawn a dim magelight that illuminates my room.
     "How soon?" I question as I slowly sit up with a groan. My entire body is sore from the sixteen hours of flight in the past two days—and... other things.
     "However long it takes you to get flight-ready and on my back."

     I stretch with bared teeth before finally forcing myself out of bed. I do my hair first, the trio of braids along my skull that merge into two twin tails down my back, then force myself into the tight, unlined leathers for summer flight.
     As soon as my boots are on, I grab my glaive off the wardrobe's handles, secure it in its holder that I sling over my chest, and grab my bag that's already packed from my flight to Samara. I did change out the clothes inside for a fresh few pairs and chucked the pouch inside undisturbed, but it's otherwise untouched.

     Sawyer and Aaric stand alone by the doorway to the stairwell down to the main corridor. That is, until I join them, when both kick off the wall and begin just before I do.
     "Morning," Aaric greets. I raise a brow, stuttering to take the pack Sawyer pushes into my hands before beginning down the stairs in front of us.
     "You're not coming with us, are you?" I ask as we follow. I manage to keep my voice mostly neutral, but Sawyer glances back anyway. I think he's starting to learn my tells—whatever they are. Or maybe he just doesn't believe anything out of my mouth anymore. I wouldn't blame him.

     "No," Aaric answers casually with a shrug. "I just woke up early. I was going to sneak outside, but Sawyer was waiting for you, so I figured I would too." He looks over at me as we get to the bottom landing. "I like the braids, by the way."
     "Thanks. You weren't waiting long, I hope." I look toward Sawyer.
     "Maybe ten minutes for me. He just got there," the blond informs me with a small nod of his head. "That's breakfast."

     "Thanks."
     We walk for a few minutes in silence, trying to not alert anyone in the halls to our presence or disturb the quiet air. Aaric follows us all the way into the corridor out to the flight field, which is when I finally turn my attention back to him.
     "You should head back to bed. There's nothing to do at this hour, and curfew isn't over," I lecture Aaric as we round into the main hallway. I point up at the arctic blue magelights as evidence.
     "I'm feeling restless." His steps slow, then he throws a sudden sideways glance at me as he comments, "You probably are, too."
     I pinch my brows in just slightly. He stops suddenly, so I do as well. Sawyer makes it a few steps further before he looks back at us with a perplexed expression that hardens quickly when Aaric leans closer.

     "Do me a favor," he whispers, so quietly, even I barely hear him.
     "How the hell am I supposed to do that?" I grumble back.
     He raises his hand to shush me, and I purse my lips for a moment before he leans even closer until his face is maybe two inches from mine. "Drop this somewhere useful." He moves back and grabs my hand hanging off the strap across my chest. I look down at whatever he stuffs into my palm. My sharp, dragged-in breath is shallow; it's all I can do to not gasp.