Xena

Kaelen stalked through the city streets, a steady settling of snow fell from the low overcast skies. As he moved forward amongst the crowd of people going about their business, he tugged his black woolen cloak closer to him, to stave off the cold pricking at his skin.

He wore black trousers and a black tunic lined with deerskin to keep him warm during the winter months they were now in. Not to mention the cool air that would rush past him from the back of his dragon.

He reached into his mind checking the tether, the bond that riders have with their dragons. It was a powerful one and took a lot of courage and bravery to earn his place bonded by a dragon's side.

The bond had built into place across five years, building brick by brick as they completed everything from aerial combat classes to actual missions. He was born from a noble family who had also been famed dragon riders. It was only his duty to follow in their footsteps.

Reaching out, he felt her. Xena. She was nowhere to be seen but their bond told him that she was close. He returned his focus to the streets in front of him. It was a few days before winter solstice and there were plenty of people hurrying past, some with presents stacked higher than they could see, in their arms. Others sorting fresh goods from the famers stalls offering food and wine.

As Kaelen walked past he was hit in the face with the potent waft of cinnamon and orange from the mulled wine being served.

He kept his head down, he was purely here for business.

Kaelen weaved in and out among the people, heading further in the heart of the city, he looked up to see the buildings and the houses giving way to the view of the castle that towered above them. A silent sentry of power, where the king of this land remained housed, old and decepted, not long for this world as he lay on his deathbed.

Soon there would be a new king.

Kalene abruptly turned in to an alleyway. A welcome respite to the noise and snow tumbling down more heavily now. His cloak swished as he walked concealing him to the shadows.

Alas, he saw it, the sign to the tavern. The Dragon's Roost. The sign swung gently in the breeze, the old paint flaky away but the old majestic green dragon poised could still be seen.

He opened the thick heavy wooden door and the warmth rushed up to greet him. He stepped inside, scuffing his heavy boots over the brush mat on the enterway. He turned to close the door and then spun to greet the tavern, almost all the tables were bare. A few patrons gathered here and there, a few in a booth and more at the bar. He took himself off to the corner, where it was darkest, the lamp providing the only source of light and sat down. He removed his hood and let his eyes scan over each individual. Not here yet. He thought.

A broad bird, came up to him, smiling. "Can I get you something love?" She said, trying to sound sweet but it came off with an overall gruff tone. "Just a glass of mead for me please" He spoke simply. Without asking anything else, she nodded and headed off over to the bar. She promptly came back and set the glass down with a thud. "Thank you" Kaelen nodded. The bar maid nodded once more, turned on her heel and left him alone in peace.

Raegan perched herself on the jagged rooftops of the city, her eyes tracing the darkening streets below. The lamps sputtered against the growing night, their faint light struggling against the cold. Snow continued to fall, relentless in its pursuit, settling lightly on her bracken deer skin coat, which offered its protection against the biting chill, though it could do little to ease the dampness seeping through her clothes.

Beneath the coat, she wore black pants reinforced with the hide of a bear, designed to cushion her when riding her dragon, Valens. Her coat concealed three layers of weathered clothing: a thin, green cotton tank top, a long-sleeved black shirt, and a woolen grey layer that served as little more than a token effort against the brutal winter. It wasn’t nearly enough for these cold months, and sitting still on a rooftop did nothing to ease the freeze creeping into her bones.

She still hadn’t grasped the full scope of her mission—who she was seeking or, for that matter, where she was meant to go. A tavern, someone had told her. A tavern marked by the faded image of a green dragon.

From her perch, Raegan watched the busy streets below. People rushed about, their footsteps quick and frantic, working to complete their errands before the night swallowed them whole. She wrinkled her nose at their frantic attempts. Halfwits, she thought, her brow furrowing as she observed their awkward dance, weaving around one another with an air of confused urgency.

A hum rose from her throat as the streets began to empty, the sounds of hurried footsteps replaced by the louder clatter of tavern doors opening and closing, the evening’s revelry spilling into the streets. The deeper she listened, the more the drunken shouts and the brawls of angry drunks reached her ears from the alleys.

Raegan closed her eyes, exhaling softly as she tried to reach out to Valens. He should have been nearby, his presence easy to sense. But this time, there was nothing.

Fine. She scowled, the cold seeping deeper into her skin. She would do this alone.

Their bond was new—fragile and untested. It had been forged out of necessity, a debt that needed settling. The two of them—so different—still struggled to understand one another. Valens was unlike any dragon she had ever known, and she, well, she was nothing short of difficult.

She cursed under her breath, casting a glance at the rising moon. The time was slipping away. She had no choice but to move, to find whatever it was she had come here for.

With a sharp, determined motion, she stood. Her jaw clenched as the cold hit her once more. Her coat tightened around her, and she tested the tether between herself and Valens again, but it was still weak—unsatisfying. She abandoned it and took action.

With one fluid motion, she leapt from the rooftop, landing lightly on a hay cart below. The soft give of the straw was a welcome relief compared to the unforgiving cobblestones of the street.

Raegan quickly pulled her hood up, the wind biting at her face as she walked. She moved swiftly through the streets, careful to avoid the piles of boxes and the stumbling drunks already weaving their way through the alleys. Her gaze remained sharp, her scowl purposeful, guiding people to steer clear of her. The castle loomed overhead, its turrets stark against the dark sky, the flags hanging limp in the still air. Thoughts of the kingdom’s uncertain future lingered in her mind—she didn’t trust what was coming, and the unease settled in her chest like a heavy stone.

It wasn’t long before the sound of laughter and clinking mugs reached her ears. She spotted the tavern, its weathered sign swinging in the breeze, a faded green dragon etched across it. She nodded to herself, pulling her coat tighter as she walked toward it, unbuckling the straps on her coat and shrugging it off her shoulders before pushing the door open.

The tavern buzzed with life, the air thick with the scent of ale and the sound of rowdy conversations. Most of the tables were occupied, save for one in the corner. She sighed, her chest tightening with the weight of it all, before she took a stool near the bar, the closest she could get without drawing attention.

The stench of alcohol filled her nostrils, and she had to fight the urge to gag. She closed her eyes, trying to drown out the noise as she focused. Finally, the tether clicked into place—Valens was near. He had been following her all along. Good.

“What can I get you, lass?” The voice startled her, and she blinked up to see a burly old man standing behind the bar. He seemed to appraise her for a moment, his gaze lingering, before she shook her head.

“Just water, sir,” she murmured, her voice soft yet firm.

He raised an eyebrow but said nothing, instead tossing her a glass and filling it with water from a jug. She nodded in thanks, though her gaze swept the room again, scanning the faces of the tavern’s patrons, still uncertain of who or what she was supposed to find.

Kaelen let the bar maid collect his glass after he'd empty it. He didn't want to get drunk especially if he needed to react quickly. The bar maid offered a simple smile before she left when he'd refused another.

He checked the bond again, tugging ever so gently. "I'm still here" Xena growled impatiently.

"Just checking" Kaelen huffed. He turned his gaze to look out the window, the windowsill collecting a light dusting of snow as it continued to fall.

Over the hours, he watched patrons come and go, many stumbling out drunk. The smell of alcohol creeped upwards into the night, the air becoming thick with it, to the point even Kaelen felt woozy under its unrelenting weight. The cushion of his seat starting to become uncomfortable. He tried to shift his weight to appease himself.

He looked up, hopeful, yet again as the door thudded open but alas another drunkard stumbled in for another round it would seem. Many of them merry for the approaching winter solstice. Yet he was waiting. He couldn't choose to be merry since the opportunity hadn't allowed it. The last few months had seen back to back missions, safeguarding the kings resources and making sure that the succession would end up as planned.

He sighed. It was very rare that there was a no show for a mission. The door sounded again and he looked up to see a woman, young. Very out of place with her petite figure and a scowl on her face, as she entered the tavern. He studied her as she crossed to the bar, the only available space in the otherwise heaving tavern.

Watching as the barman served her a glass of water. She turned her head, her dark hair moving back over her shoulders as she swung her gaze round across the room. Her grey eyes alight with the dancing flame of the lamps that lit the the room.

Their eyes met. He wondered if she would recognise a fellow rider. She seemed young but that wasn't telling of her experience, let alone the dragon she had bonded with. She was one of the few riders he hadn't work with before. He hoped that she would be able to enlighten them as to why the order to meet here had been so vague.

He didn't want to move from the table for the fear of losing it to someone else so he waited, watched her from afar, to see if she would approach of her own accord.

She had the name, though it didn’t come to her right away. Valens knew, she thought to herself. He had heard of the man, but the dragon’s descriptions never seemed helpful. His words always felt too vague, too distant.

"You’ll know when you see him." Valens’ voice echoed in her mind, his tone a soft reassurance.

Raegan rolled her eyes, irritation flickering behind her gaze as she finished the last of her water. Her finger drummed lightly against the glass, a rhythmic tapping as she tried to piece things together. Yet, something felt off—like the puzzle pieces she’d been working with hours ago no longer fit.

She let out a sigh and tested the tether again, grateful to find it still strong. It was reassuring, at least. "What was the name again?" she muttered, a growing impatience slipping into her voice.

"Kaelen Hawthorn," Valens voice responded promptly.

The name struck a chord. She’d heard of the Hawthorn family before—well-known, well-respected riders. The sort of names spoken in hushed tones, sometimes with a hint of reverence.

This could be interesting, she thought, feeling a flicker of curiosity.

For a moment, she wished she knew more about her mission. All she had been told was that it involved the king—what exactly, though, was a mystery. She had hoped the person she was working with would have a clearer idea of what was going on. But that seemed unlikely. She certainly didn’t want to show up uninvited at the castle to ask questions.

Raegan’s eyes scanned the room again, this time lingering on the corner where she had spotted him earlier. The man stood out—young, younger than she expected. But more than that, he was alone.

Their gazes locked for a fleeting moment, and something clicked in her mind. Here we go, she thought, a spark of certainty igniting within her. His eyes, sharp and blue, caught her attention, gleaming in the dim tavern light. His attire gave him away, too—black trousers, a cloak that spoke of both function and formality.

Another rider.

She grabbed her coat, the leather of it stiff in her hands, and pushed her way through the crowded tavern. Drunken patrons barely noticed her as she navigated through the mess of slurred words and stumbling bodies. When she reached his table, she stopped, standing tall, but with a slight wariness in her step.

"You are... Hawthorn?" she asked, her voice steady but with a hint of curiosity. One brow arched in question as she extended her hand, offering him a greeting. She didn’t often work with people her own age—her bond with Valens wasn’t even fully formed yet, and the idea of working with another rider like this felt... strange.

Kaelen's gaze never broke from hers, his green eyes lighting up at her spotting him, how she nimbly moved through the crowd of people. The careful and light steps she took. He was glad he had chosen this spot for the noise would conceal any conversations they were about to have.

He watched as she approached, standing in front of him now. Her voice, lighter than he expected. "I am Hawthorne, but call me Kaelen" He stood, shaking her hand. He gestured to the seat opposite, taking her in fully now.

"Drink?" He offered.

He felt a pull in his chest, he wanted to get to know her, the way her light grey eyes staring at him.

"Now is not the time to have a crush, please keep your emotions in check" Xena muttered, a low growl emanating in his thoughts.

"Sorry" He whispered back.

He cleared his throat. "And you are?" He asked her, waiting for her response. He wanted to see if the name would trigger any memory of her, her missions or even her family, if he'd read about them.

(Sorry it's short, just trying to create conversation)

"Likewise" was all Kaelen said, watching her take her seat. There was something in her eyes, recognition perhaps. He knew most people had heard of his family's name but there were only a select few riders that he had actually worked with. The fact this rider was new to him, had him curious all the same.

Kaelen shrugged at her refusal for a drink. Straight to business then. He thought. I like her, was all Xena said. He huffed at her down the bond. So you can like her but I can't? Rude. If dragons could shrug, he was sure that's what she would be doing right about now. The bond tingled as if she was agreeing with him on that very thought.

He saw her gaze narrow. He didn't react to her looking him up and down. He'd already assessed her from across the room and upon approach to this very table. How she handled herself, especially on the back of a dragon would be an entirely different matter.

He continued to watch her, as she shifted, leaning forward to reveal her name. The way she act so reserved was intriguing to him. Most riders were bolshy and egotistical and couldn't wait for you to ask who they were. Most of the time they flaunted they were dragon riders, but not her. And not him either. He didn't care for the taste of vanity. Not to mention Xena wouldn't allow it. It's why she had chosen him.

Kaelen also shifted in his seat, leaning backwards, resting his back on the wooden backing of the booth.

"I was kind of hoping you'd tell me that" He said his voice soft and smooth.

They both seem to sigh with the weight of being summoned here together but there seemed there was no mission.

At the very thought, the bar maid approached. Her posture rigid and almost unfriendly in nature. Not like she was earlier. She stood in front of them, her shadow from her broad figure stretching across the table in front of them.

"Dragon riders... I have a message" She moved awkwardly, revealing a scroll from her apron. She handed it to Kaelen and retreated her hand quickly, as if the parchment itself had been laced with poison. Her eyes wide with fear. She turned on her heel and scurried off in a hurry.

Well that was weird... Kaelen kept his eyes on the barmaid as she moved back towards the bar and disappeared behind the crowd of people.

His gaze flicked down to the scroll in his hands. There was a red ribbon and the king's seal keeping the scroll secure.

Kaelen looked up, his eyes widened slightly at Raegan. "It's from the king" He whispered, taking the scroll in both hands, he broke the seal and unscrolled it. He took it under the table to hide it from view.

He audibly gasped, reading the text in front of him. His eyes darting across the page. He looked up and around, forcing his face to take a neutral expression, for he feared if there was anyone watching.

Xena tugged impatiently. It's...It's the king...He's dead. He could have sworn he felt Xena shift her weight uncomfortably, because there was something else...

He's been assassinated. But why? He was on his deathbed anyway, why would someone wish to speed up the process? Kaelen's mind went to work, rereading the scroll as if the words could jump out at him with all the answers. He couldn't help but feel there was a large plot at play. The fact they were summoned here just to be giving this message. He scanned his eyes across the room, looking for the barmaid who had conveniently disappeared.