[SE] don't drop your cool

Zavien

"Shoot." Zavien takes a deep breath, the mists of the valley humidifying the cold morning air that hits his lungs, stimulating a short cough that he smothers behind a hand. He hadn't been expected Sol to lead him straight to a cliff - even if that cliff has a bridge spanning its width - but the dragon gives him an encouraging chirp that tells Zavien this is the only option to get home. 

He should have just taken the skyship. 

Leaning his head back, he tries not to look off the edge of the cliff while he grapples with the queasy feeling in his stomach. His hand grips the hilt of his sword, the other fidgeting with the strap of his bag, only letting a few moments pass before stepping towards the bridge. The longer he delays, the worse it will get, and he has a family to get back to. 

Sol dives down to land along the rope lining the path, his golden wings spread out to keep him balanced as he trots effortlessly across the expanse. "Show off," Zavien mutters, hiding a smirk when he takes the first hesitant step onto the wood paneling, his green eyes fixed on the ground ahead rather than the misty drop to an unknown ground below, slowing his breathing as he hums a garbled, out of tune sound with no distinguishable melody.

The secret of happiness is freedom,
the secret of freedom is courage.

i fell in love with a war

Icarus catches the flash of soemthing in the sky and follows, heart hammering in the back of his throat. He doesn’t know what drew him to the Oerwoud, compelled him to ask a day’s leave and wander onto the Skyship in a perhaps ill-fated attempt to wake Ghilio. He says ill-fated because, if his hopeless sense of direction were anything to be trusted, he was hopelessly and utterly lost. And now, if the memories seared into the backs of his eyes and lacing the jagged, brutal scars on his chest are to be trusted, there’s a dragon flitting around here too. Wonderful.

His chest burns as he moves towards the source of the movement, drawn by some invisible tether of trauma. The air is thick with humidity, a largely unfamiliar sensation to the cold-hardened Halo soldier, and the jacket he had arrived with now resides tied around his waist. Long, lean arms push away foreign fauna in Icarus’ path; if circumstances were different, perhaps he would have delighted in letting his fingers run over the strange new life, reveling in the touch of vitality under his weathered fingers.

With a burst of desperate speed, sticks snapping and crushing under his heavy boots, Icarus emerges into a clearing holding a man, a bridge that could only be politely described as structurally unsound, and most pressingly, a dragon. The man upon the bridge is tall and strong and seems utterly unbothered by (rather small) creature of mass destruction perched next to him, and Icarus doesn’t want to startle him on this rickety bridge but—

”Excuse me,” He calls, voice soft as it ever is but with a note of urgency in it, ”There’s a dragon next to you,” It’s perhaps an unhelpful observation in this particular moment but echoes of talons on his chest and bloodied memories of wings against Citadel walls beat against his memories and his dragon-claw scars, remnants of near-death and grief, climb out red and angrily visible from the low collar of his sleeveless undershirt. His hands drift to his sword, more out of habit than anything else, resting there unobtrusively.

Icarus

and nobody told me it ended

Zavien

The first step has his jaw setting, determination lining his eyes when he looks at Sol, the awful humming echoing through the open space below. The dragon doesn't appear nearly as concerned by the height, practically trotting along the railing, but he also has wings that will do a lot more to stop his fall than anything Zavien possesses. 

The second step earns a stuttered breath, gaze flicking down just enough to confirm the placement of his foot. Instinct has him wanting to look beyond to the threat of open air below, only stifled by pure willpower that forces his eyes back to his companion, fear and panic fighting for possession of his limbs. The world around him is muted, secondary to the danger looming below. 

When a voice sounds from behind him, it takes a second to register. "Huh?" His third step hits the edge of the plank, shifting close enough to the gap that a curse attempts to push through his sharp gasp. He swears his stomach falls through his boot, falling continuously to crash-land somewhere solid and deadly disguised by the mist. The blood seems to follow, a chill setting over his body as if it can feel the death before it claims him. 

Zavien's hands clutch the rope in a vice grip, adjusting his foot firmly on the plank, scrambling for a breath that doesn't make him want to vomit. It takes more than a few seconds for him to be able to think or hear past the feeling of plummeting in pieces, the irrational sense of doom pulling at his limbs. But when he does, he swallows, vaguely processing that someone's asking after the golden reptile propped next to him - the same one chirping softly at him, worry glinting in the yellow of his eyes. 

Swallowing the tightness in his chest, Zavien glances at the young man in his peripheral, unwilling to turn in case he loses his footing. "Oh uh. Sol?" he verifies before adding, "He's my companion. There's rarely a moment he's not next to me." An airy chuckle huffs around the nervous smile he plasters on his face, talking over his shoulder when he says, "Sorry. Were you trying to cross? It might take me a minute." Or twenty. He hopes the man isn't in a hurry to get anywhere.

The secret of happiness is freedom,
the secret of freedom is courage.

i fell in love with a war

Icarus winces slightly at the abrupt way the man startles, his feet almost missing their standing and his already uncertain posture growing all the more uncertain the surprise arrival of his voice. He truly hadn't meant to startle the stranger, but he supposed it was a given, presuming the man on the bridge was likely extremely focused on the particular task at hand of not losing his balance and plummeting to death. A task which Icarus' presence was decidedly not helping with. 

The bridge seem to sway from the force of the man's surprise, and though Icarus could not see the plummeting depths from where he stood, the image conjured in his mind was enough to send him trembling with sympathy. Perhaps more concerning though was the utter flippancy the man had towards his dragon companion? Icarus' throat tightens with something sharp and dangerous, the iron rod of his spine straightening to a soldier's attention. Either this man was deeply unlucky, cursed, or a very wicked person to hold himself companion to a dragon. His shoulders tightened in a defensive posture, his hands clammy from the press of the humidity against his body where they rested on his sword hilt. 

His feet drive him a cautious step forward, enough so he can peer into the plummeting depths of the unending mists that lingered below the unstable bridge, and enough so he could keep a closer appraising eye on the mysterious man and his alleged dragon companion. 

"Admittedly, I don't know if I am crossing. I'm lost," He said with an edge of defense, wary of revealing such possible advantage to an unknown and likely dangerous stranger. "So take your time." He swallowed the rock that seemed to have lodged in his throat, sharp as the memory of enormous raking claws against his chest. "...Did you say companion?"

Icarus

and nobody told me it ended

Zavien

The laughter that comes from his lips is a tumble of air, his smile distracted as he tries to pry his fingers from the rope. "I would be too if it weren't for Sol." Between the two of them, the dragon has the natural ability of height that makes him much better at directions, whereas Zavien couldn't find his way back from the bathroom in a one-story house with signs, let alone a forest where all the trees look vaguely familiar. "Where are you trying to go?" Maybe he could borrow Sol's exemplary navigational skills. 

Peeking up from the torture of dangling hundreds of feet in the air, Zavien grins at Sol. "That's right! He's my best friend." A mandatory best friend for life. The miniature dragon turns his gaze to the stranger, a bright friendliness in his eyes when he sends a trilling chirp of greeting. He might have flown to demand scratches or treats if it weren't for the panicked situation of his bonded, his wings fluttering against the urge. 

Zavien uses the conversation as a welcome distraction, replacing the discordant humming as he dares a fourth cautious step onto the bridge. "Frey bonded us together when he was just a baby." Not that he looks much bigger now with his pudgy legs and stubby horns. Zavien doesn't know the growth rates of dragons, but he suspects Sol would have been a lot bigger by this point if he was meant to be. And a lot scarier.

The secret of happiness is freedom,
the secret of freedom is courage.

i fell in love with a war

”I’m not exactly sure. That’s part of the problem,”” He starts, keeping his dark eyes glued to the mass of danger hovering above the man wobbling on the bridge. ”I came to try and help wake Ghilio. My unit’s dragging me to my first Flowerbirth festival and they say this is part of the tradition.” Which in this specific moment Icarus is now dreading.

The miniature dragon is cute in the way a poisonous flower must be beautiful to its victims. Its trilling, lilting chirp causes Icarus to flinch again, hand flicking on his sword, face contorting an a heartbeat of utter, absolute fear before he can master himself again.

The man on the bridge places another shaky leg in front of the other on the creaky bridge, and Icarus has to commend his bravery even though he’s clearly a madman and/or cursed. To be bonded to a creature of such immense destruction? And to call it a best friend? Icarus suppressed a shudder. Under the man’s feet, the bridge freaks and sways, and the wet bursts of wind blow Icarus’ collection of curls whisping around his pale face.

”And you’re… content with that? The bonding?” Icarus asks, drifting a hand up to rub at the burning canyons of his scars on his chest. The little creature is small, with stubby little legs and beating winds, and it occurs to Icarus that he should perhaps be more terrified at the plummeting canyon ahead of him rather than this stumpy thing, but his mind is echoing old visions of blood and flame and walls crumbling, half in memory, half in the misty stretch of Ourwoud, and he can’t quite drag his body all the way to the present.

”Dragons are dangerous,” He says quietly, more to himself than the man.

Icarus

and nobody told me it ended

Zavien

Zavien nods his head at the information, immediately regretting the decision when the bridge shifts beneath his feet, sending the world careening with nauseating force. He sucks in a breath, his fingers returning to their white-knuckle force as he lets out a nervous laugh. "Oh yeah. The Festival's a fun time. Lots of good food and music. Although hopefully we can wake Ghilio in time." Realizing that he's talking half to himself, he asks, "How did you plan to try and wake him? Did your unit have any suggestions?" Despite the fact that he hasn't gotten a full look at the man, he gets the sense that he's young, and having spent much of his life with the Dragoons, Zavien knows what it's like to be placed on a difficult task just to mess with him. 

Unaware of the trauma being relived behind him, Zavien focuses on the familiar face that tilts in front of him. A sappy smile spreads across his lips, pure and bright. "It was one of the happiest days of my life." Falling close behind the day his daughter was born. Bonding with Sol had been a literal dream come true, a child's hope come to life after years of being alone. He'd survived every dark day after thanks to the love and support of his companion - even death. 

The quiet comment reaches Zavien, concentration and confusion narrowing his eyes as he steps. Between clenched teeth and shaking breath, he focuses on reassuring someone else rather than the fear coursing through his veins. "Some are. Just like some people are dangerous." But just as all people aren't dangerous, not all dragons are, and he smiles through another trembling step to say, "But the only threat Sol poses is to shoes and snacks." As if to confirm his comment, Sol puffs his chest, gold tail wagging behind him as he throws the stranger a lopsided grin that shows off his lolling pink tongue and tiny teeth that are best suited for smiles than bites. Zavien might as well have named him 'Derpy.'

The secret of happiness is freedom,
the secret of freedom is courage.