After four weeks, Valtiel had managed to convince himself that he regarded Kero as nothing more than a rival. Etoille and Avalon had tried to lure him to the amphitheater to watch the dragon knights, but he always had found something else to do to avoid it. Eventually they stopped asking and simply forced his attendance, knowing that Valtiel would sooner do as they asked than cause a scene.
"You are neglecting yourself again. Always training and no fun, that's not good for you, Valtiel."
"Leave me alone, Avalon," Valtiel said, quiet but forceful.
"Be quiet, both of you. You're worse than children."
Shooting Avalon a warning glare, Valtiel leaned back a little, still uneasy about what was yet to come. He didn't trust either of his friends to have stopped meddling, though he hadn't the faintest idea what they could have been up to that night.
His attention shifted to the dragon knights entering the theater, and his eyes involuntarily went directly to Kero. He flinched at that, inwardly groaning. Of course Avalon would have dragged him here because of Kero; what else had he expected? Huffing, Valtiel crossed his arms in front of his chest, glaring down at the assembling dragon knights.
After a moment, Valtiel noted they each had a unique weapon. Valtiel studied them a moment with some interest, cataloging the various weapons: Kero carried a lance with an elegantly worked tip; an especially tall dragon knight had a battle axe; others had chosen daggers, blades, even a slingshot. One of them wasn't armed at all except for leather gloves with long, claw-like metal plates covering his fingers. Valtiel's eyebrows rose at the diversity presented. They learned to fight with all of those weapons?
The dragon knights separated and positioned themselves in a large circle close to the walls of the amphitheater. They each looked tense, even Kero, and Valtiel couldn't help but be amused at how focused they were as they assessed each of their opponents. Though this fight was naught more than entertainment, none of them would hold back.
"Well, what do you think ? Still such a waste of time to come here and watch them?"
"Shut up, Avalon, I'm far from forgiving you," Valtiel replied, stubbornly ignoring his friend.
"I can't imagine what you might need to forgive me fore," Avalon said with a sly look. "I wonder, though, what the winner will claim as his prize."
"I thought this was simply training?"
"Every training session is a competition, Valtiel. You've simply failed to notice."
Valtiel couldn't quite believe what Avalon had said. The dragon knights were constantly competing with each other? That sounded somewhat ridiculous, as Valtiel had seen first hand how close the dragon knights were, constantly playful and affectionate and not at all aggressive with each other. What was unfolding in the sand spoke for Avalon, though. Every single one of them wanted to win.
From the moment the fight began, chaos seemed to have broken loose across the sand. It was difficult to follow any one knight, but they all showed a surprising amount of skill. Even after all the months of fighting alongside them. Valtiel still hadn't thought any one of them could truly match him in battle, but watching them then, he was certain they could be competition for any elf tribe.
In the chaos of limbs, shimmering blades and occasional fire tongues, none of the knights seemed to have any clear advantage, no matter the weapon they had chosen. Surprisingly, the one with the battle axe was the first to retreat to the wall of the theater and sit with his back against it to watch the remainder of the fight. Valtiel couldn't quite believe his eyes as he saw that the knight was bleeding from several wounds. They would go so far as to actually hurt each other? It was a strange concept.
"I surely don't want to be a shadow now," Etoille said with something between amusement and admiration. "Against such dragons, I would be powerless."
"I fully agree, Etoille. They are every inch an untamed beast when they fight. What do you think, Valtiel?"
"I think that they are morons. Just look what they have done to one of their own!" Valtiel gestured at the bleeding dragon knight, his disdain clear. Avalon and Etoille reluctantly agreed, though it didn't dim the curiosity shimmering in their eyes.
"It doesn't seem like he's very bothered by his wounds." Avalon had leaned forward, until he was close to falling over. "Are they so advanced in medicine they know how to treat the wounds without leaving scars?"
"I assume so," Etoille answered. "Otherwise they would be covered in many more scars."
"Wouldn't they be able to remove the rest of their scars?"
"They choose which ones to keep," Valtiel explained without thinking. As his friends gazed at him with surprise, he turned away, concentrating on the fight once more.
Three more dragon knights, each with a different blade, left the battle in quick succession. Valtiel noted Dyvn, seemingly one of the youngest dragon knights he had observed, appeared upset, while the others seemed more content than dissatisfied. It was becoming more and more apparent to Valtiel how the years truly contributed to the dragons knights' ability to think as more than mere humans.
Valtiel caught sight of Kero, surprised to find him unharmed, which seemed to have led to the remaining four opponents joining forces to stand against him.
While the dragon knights circled each other, Valtiel's gaze strayed towards the wounded knights. He could not understand why they would be so rough during a training exercise.
As three more dragon knights joined the others at the wall, Valtiel realized he had been so distracted that he had not seen Kero defeat them. Kero now faced the dragon knight with the claw-like leather gloves. Much to Valtiel's surprise, he watched as Kero discarded his lance and faced his opponent unarmed, hands loosely curled before him, ready to strike back. Did he intend to actually take on his enemy without a weapon, just to make it a little more difficult for himself?
"What is that moron even doing? He could win this easily, yet still he chooses to make it difficult."
"I think he wants to make it fair, Avalon."
Avalon huffed and began arguing with Etoille about the place of honor in battle. Valtiel ignored them, watching as the two faced off and circled each other. Even without the clawed gauntlets, Kero looked vicious enough to teach his opponent a lesson.
What looked like instinct was a long trained strategy, a way of using their bodies as their main weapon. Valtiel had a feeling he could have studied them for years without understanding what made their actions look like raw, primal instincts.
The crowd began to cheer as, with a few quick attacks and a feint to the left, Kero pinned his opponent, who was bleeding from several cuts while Kero still appeared to be unscathed. They growled at each other, the sound audible despite the noise from the crowd. Their inner dragons seemed more pronounced for a moment as Kero established domination over the other dragon knight, but after a brief moment, the pinned dragon knight lowered his head and closed his eyes. Kero had won.
Soon enough, the dragon knights were occupied with ruffling Kero and finally wrestling him to the ground. Valtiel couldn't help but roll his eyes at the sight. Their behavior seemed to match them in an odd way, seeing how immediately after a difficult sparring match they laughed and still had enough strength to fool around. Maybe it was their way of living that gave them their strength in battle. Together, the dragon knights were a solid, almost unbeatable unit.
As they settled down again, the dragon knights melted away, leaving Kero alone in the sand. He picked up his lance and looked directly at Valtiel, the challenge in his gaze obvious.
With a strange sensation somewhere between irritation and excitement—about what, specifically, Valtiel couldn't say, though he knew it was Kero's fault—Valtiel made his way into the sparring ring, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. Before they could start, the dragon knight with the claw-like gloves approached Kero, muttering something to him. With a laugh, Kero exchanged the lance for the gloves, making Valtiel huff in impatience. Once they were ready, they faced off. Valtiel found it difficult to assess the outcome of the match, however; he had fought against a lance-wielding Kero in their previous duels.
Kero was focused and completely calm, despite the scratches and sweat running down his body. With the lance, he would have been slowed down somewhat; the gauntlets allowed him to take advantage of a different fighting style that could compete with Valtiel's agility. He looked vicious, almost lethal.
Small wisps of flames escaped Kero's mouth, causing Valtiel to step back with an angry scowl. It seemed Kero was beginning to lose control over his inner fire, but that was was hardly surprising after his first fight.
It was hard for anyone to give a detailed account of Kero and Valtiel's fight. There had been a mix of confusing colors, flashes of metal, and an angry roar. In the end, the only thing that was for cetaain was that Valtiet had lost the fight.
Pinned down by Kero's heavy body, the knowledge he had failed to do more than swing his weapon through the air was deeply humiliating, but strangely, it didn't distress Valtiel as much as it should have. For a short moment, his and Kero's bodies had been pressed together in a rather embarrassing manner, making Valtiel flinch and blush furiously. Anger quickly followed, but it was easily overwhelmed—the smell of sweat, the feeling of Kero's hands wrapped around his wrists, their mingled, panting breaths... His anger was nothing in comparison to the sudden wave of lust that crashed over him.
If the moment hadn't shocked him so much, he would have viciously stripped Kero down with words, ensuring that his dignity was not the only one left bruised. Valtiel's heart pounded painfully against his ribs as Kero moved above him, exhaling with a sigh and then grinning down at him. Valtiel felt dazed as Kero stood, pulling Valtiel up with him. Coming back to his senses, Valtiel ruthlessly crushed his emotions, glaring at Kero but unable to find anything to say. Instead, he turned and left the amphitheater, without thought making his way through the fortress and to the inner wall, finding himself at the same pinnacle he had found Kero at weeks before.
Valtiel sat down with his back against the pinnacles, taking deep, measured breathes and trying to still his racing heart. It didn't help. Kero's smell, mixed with sweat and the smallest amount of blood, clung to his clothes and rose to his nose any time he tried to calm himself.
In the beginning, Valtiel had felt nothing but disdain for Kero and the other dragon knights. Now, though, things seemed to have changed. Before there had been so much anger and irritation at everything they—Kero—did, Valtiel couldn't help but be incensed. Now, though, there seemed to be an understanding that grew each day. They weren't exactly hostile towards each other, but it certainly wasn't friendship.
But what if those feelings went beyond simple friendship? Beyond rivalry? Valtiel had realized his interest in Kero and the dragon knights was strange, but he hadn't realized it could be something like this.
Lust. Attraction.
"Cooled down again?" Valtiel looked up to see Kero had followed him to the pinnacles and was standing several steps away. Valtiel looked away, but gestured for Kero to join him. He didn't bother to answer Kero's question; Kero knew he was confused, and that didn't need any explanation.
Kero sat with him and listened to the night until Valtiel was ready to say something. "Why did you want to fight me? You were exhausted and wounded, yet you still challenged me."
"That was my prize for winning the melee against the other knights. I chose to test my strength against yours."
Valtiel glanced at Kero, noting how the few scrapes and cuts he had suffered were freshly healed. All except for one around his left upper arm. He seemed to have chosen to keep that one, and Valtiel couldn't help but wonder why—until he remembered this odd tradition the dragon knights had. If he wasn't mistaken, he had hit Kero's upper arm in their duel. So Kero preferred to keep the wound a frost elf dealt him over the many more from the blades of other dragon knights.
Once more, Kero's smell came to Valtiel, stronger than before. The inexplicable mix of spices, sweet tones, and fire was making him shiver slightly, and he had to to stop himself from taking a deep breath and drawing Kero's notice. That would have been incredibly humiliating.
It had to be because of the many chaotic emotions. It was the only explanation Valtiel could offer as to why he was reacting this strongly to Kero's presence and every little impression accompanying it. If they had sat in the assembly hall with the other elves and knights, Valtiel would have been oblivious to the fragrance, as he had been before. But up here, it was just Kero and the night air. And since he could hardly fall in love with the night air, his mind focused on Kero.
While silence lingered between them, Valtiel ran his eyes over Kero, unabashedly taking in details he hadn't really appreciated before as Kero sat with his eyes closed. The way he chewed on his lips while thinking, how his fingers twitched when something came to him—it was all strangely fascinating.
Valtiel realized he could no longer deny his interest in Kero. Whether friendly ore more, it was not to be ignored. Before, he would have been shocked, disgusted even. Now, he felt nothing like that. Instead, a strange warmth pooled in his body, a warmth he had never known before.
Without really thinking, Valtiel scooted closer to Kero, who seemed content to let his eyes remain close, apparently trusting Valtiel.
Valtiel realized the question of his pride keeping him away from Kero was foolish. They were obviously well matched, so he brought Valtiel no dishonor.
When Kero opened his eyes, it was obvious that Valtiel's proximity surprised him. He gave Valtiel a puzzled look, but Valtiel chose that moment to kiss him lightly. After hesitating briefly, Kero moved into the kiss, coaxing Valtiel to show a little more confidence. They didn't care about their differences, about their initial disagreement. The only thing they wanted was for this kiss to last.