The academy gardens smelled like fresh earth and summer air. Like cinnamon apples and warm pie.
Sunlight filtered through the trees, dappled gold on stone walkways. The grass shone in the sun, small drops of dew glistening. Students lounged in little pockets—some studying, some sparring, most just killing time between drills and classes.
Sawyer spotted Theo from across the field, standing with his back to the sun like a statue—arms folded, head tilted, that unreadable Aurenhart focus locked on a group of students practicing joint takedowns.
Theron Aurenhart wasn't just the strongest student in the academy. He was the one everyone watched - his genius and skills making him a commodity to watch. His charisma was great, although he could be seen as a person of few words. Precise, composed. Cool headed. He doesn't make wasted movements, and didn't shout to be heard. The people just listened.
And somehow- this guy chose me. Out of all the glittering prodigies and promising noble heirs, he decided I was worth a friendship, at least.
I've seen him disarm a grown man outside a pub in four seconds. I've seen him break another students magic explosion, stopping the damage and preventing injuries.
I've also seen his steal the last bite of my lunch and look me in the eye like he didn't do a damned thing. Most people think he's cold or distant, but... I think he's just mentally challenged and was chosen as sole babysitter.
So here I am, waving at this red haired, green eyed piece of b-
Sawyer grinned and jogged over. "You're going to sprain something if you keep frowning like that."
Theo glanced sideways at him, expression unreadable. "Your form was off yesterday."
"Was not."
"Your pivot was slow."
"Maybe I was going easy on you."
"You couldn't go easy on me if you tried."
Sawyer laughed. It came out natural this time. Loud enough to make a few heads turn.
Theo didn't smile, but his eyes softened, just a little. Ice box much?
"You're late," he said. "If you keep messing up your attendance you'll be forced to do extra activities at the end of the year."
"I had to sneak past two over-enthusiastic fire mages and a girl crying in a bush about failing sword class. I'm lucky to be alive."
Theo shook his head. "Come on. I packed lunch. I even didn't forget your ridiculous jelly bread thing."
Sawyers eyes sparkled - "its a danish. But I accept."
They sat under one of the sycamores on the edge of the grounds. Sawyer stretched out, letting the warm breeze soak into his skin. He felt the bruise on his ribs tug a little when he leaned back—but ignored it. Hopefully it loosens up a bit.
"You should do this more," Theo said suddenly, passing him a wrapped roll.
"Do what?"
"Relax. Laugh. Eat. You're always… moving."
Sawyer blinked. "I laugh all the time."
"Sure. But your eyes don't."
Sawyer stopped mid-bite. That shouldn't have hit as hard as it did. But hey, danish comes first.
Theo reached over and plucked a leaf from his hair, casual, like it wasn't a thing. Then leaned back on one elbow and closed his eyes against the sun.
The breeze picked up. Birds chirped. And for a second, Sawyer felt like he could almost believe this was normal.
But then Theo grabbed his wrist—playfully, to pin it when Sawyer tried to steal an extra jelly bun— and the sleeve of his shirt tugged up.
A bruise. Faint yellow over angry purple.
Theo didn't say anything. His fingers paused only a second longer than they should have.
Then he let go, unwrapped a second roll, and quietly handed it over.
Sawyer looked at it.
"Thanks," he said.
"You should stop sparring with people who can't control their power," Theo muttered.
"Guess I bruise easy."
Theo didn't look at him. 'No, you don't.' He thought.
The rest of the lunch passed without another word about it. Just food, the sun, and the quiet tension of class time getting closer.
Sawyer watched his best friend lean back against the tree and thought: I could stay here forever.
Then he remembered the brand on his skin. The weight of silence in his father's voice.
He took a bite of the jelly bun and forced a smile.
He was getting better at pretending