He tore his gaze from the castle, from the judgment, from the burden of the obligation he carried. Let the dead look down all they wished.
He had endured worse.
The shore drew him instead, where waves folded endlessly, curling like white talons.
No ship would ever glimpse this territory from the Sapphire Sea. No outsider would ever know this place even existed. The mountain’s bulk sheltered it, cloaked it in illusion.
The last gift from gods who had once favored dragons.
Even in their absence, the ward held.
He kicked off his boots, stepping into the surf where warm waters lapped at his ankles. The sand welcomed his weight, soft and consuming, until he sank into it, legs stretched out, shoulders slowly loosening, his stance easing for the first time in weeks.
A stolen moment of peace. Weak and fleeting, but real.
Smoke bled from his pores, curling around him in a lazy veil. It cloaked his body, blurred his edges, smothered his face as he tilted his head back. The only thing that ever soothed the riot inside him.
He let it drown every thought that screamed too loud. Let it heal in the way only it could.
The ocean moved in slow rhythm. Rising. Falling. A tide that matched his breath, just as it always had.
It broke when movement stirred behind him, sand shifting, a cloak, dark and umber, flowing in the breeze. He didn’t have to look to know who had already found him. The one man who carried his presence like the calm tide.
Aero came to sit beside him, saying nothing at first. Just breathing in the sea with him. Just being there.
Ronan had dreaded this conversation since the moment he’d returned. He let the smoke shroud recede from his face in a slow exhale.
“I know what you’re going to say.” His knees drew up, his arms hanging loose over them. His eyes stay fixed on the horizon, where sea and sky blurred into a smear of gray.
“I doubt that,” Aero answered.
His voice was calm, kind, even now. Even after everything. Even when Ronan had done nothing to deserve it.
Ronan finally looked at him. Gold hair fell down Aero’s back, streaked with silver and deep red—like flame tangled with a lunar flare. The lingering imprint of the crown still marked his brow; even bare of it, the man still wore sovereignty like a second skin.
“They look at you and they see hope, Aero. Strength in more than just fire or fear. Not the kind that conquers, but the kind that makes a king worth embracing, worth following. They bowed for you when you were crowned,” Ronan whispered the words, like it cost him. “They chose you. They will never bow for me.”
Aero didn’t deny it or soothe him with lies. Only turned those pale blue eyes on Ronan with no pity or punishment, just quiet understanding for a man who could still be more.
Ronan’s jaw flexed as he stood abruptly, pacing where the tide curled along the sand. “He would be so ashamed of who I’ve become.”
He didn’t need to say the name. The wordfatherwas already a stone in his stomach, souring everything it touched.
Rhydan lived in every memory of this mountain, every expectation.
Aero rose too, a frown shadowing his face. He had never tried to replace Rhydan; he knew better. Knew that wasn’t what Ronan had needed when Rhydan fell.
Instead, he had offered something else entirely. Guidance, steadiness, a place to land when Ronan’s rage threatened to scald him. And fates burn him down, he had hoped that balance might be enough.
“You think you are unlike him,” Aero said, stepping straight into Ronan’s storm. His hands closed firm around Ronan’s shoulders, forcing him to stop, to meet his stare. Smoke wove, twining between them, but it didn’t scorch Aero, didn’t push him back. “I see so much of him in you.” His grip tightened. “As I’ve told you, the Rhydan you remember was breaking. His heart, his soul, his mind… all fractured long before the end. He didn’t hold you back because you weren’t worthy.” Aero shook his head once. “He did it because he refused to let you shatter the same way he did.”
Ronan’s face twisted, shoulders knotting tight. “I was forged from that fracture.”
“Not your heart.” Aero jabbed a finger hard into Ronan’s chest. “This?” That same hand swept wide, as if to gather the whole of Ryuu in his palm. “I know it’s what you run fromandwhat you wish to save. I know it’s why you’ve been absent. But saving them doesn’t mean running. Stay,” Aero offered. “Be seen. Let them remember who their prince is.” His grip fell away, leaving Ronan exposed to air and truth in equal measure. “They miss you—”
Ronan turned away, stare dragging out to the sea. He didn’t trust the thing reaching up his throat.
“Aelora misses you,” Aero added, quieter now.
