The flame were slowly, rising from the center of his hand like something waking up, curling upward in threads of deep red and warm gold that twisted around each other in lazy, slow spirals.

It didn’t roar. It didn’t crack or spit. It simply burned, quiet and alive, casting a soft shifting light across his fingers.

Evan stopped breathing for approximately two seconds.

Then admiration came, "Woah."

It came out as a whisper, which for Evan was remarkable in itself.

Mira stood beside him, both small hands pressed together in front of her mouth, her round eyes reflecting the gold and red as she stared without blinking.

Azael looked down at the two of them and felt something warm settle in his chest that had nothing to do with the fire.

"Beautiful, isn’t it," he said, with the relaxed confidence of someone stating an obvious fact about himself.

Arista raised an eyebrow.

"You’re complimenting your own ability."

"I’m acknowledging the truth," he said pleasantly. "There’s a difference."

Sabrina pressed her hand over her mouth, shoulders shaking with quiet laughter.

"It really is something," she admitted.

"Thank you, Sabrina. Someone with taste."

"Oh, please I also have them. Don’t forget it." Arista said.

Azael closed his hand gently. The flame folded in on itself and disappeared, leaving only the faint ghost of warmth behind.

"That was amazing big brother!!"

"Yeah! They were so beautiful!!"

Both kids shouted in admiration, with sparkling eyes.

"Hehe! I know. I am amazing afterall. Anyways you tow can go and play."

Evan immediately turned to Mira with the urgent energy of someone who needed to debrief.

Mira was already nodding before he said anything.

Then, just as quickly as they had arrived, both of them turned and sprinted back across the lawn to resume whatever mission they had temporarily abandoned, their small voices carrying back on the breeze in fragments.

Azael watched them go with a quiet smile.

After a while, he stood.

"I’m going to walk around," he said, glancing out at the garden. "It seems a shame not to."

Arista was already on her feet before he finished the sentence.

"I’ll come."

They said their goodbyes to Sabrina, who waved them off with an easy smile and returned to her cup and her quiet afternoon, and then the two of them set off along the garden path together.

---

The palace garden stretched wide and open across the hillside, following the natural slope of the land in long, sweeping tiers.

The further they walked from the main building, the more the formal landscaping gave way to something looser.

And more generous broader trees, longer grass, paths that curved for the pleasure of curving rather than to get anywhere quickly.

They talked as they walked. Nothing consequential. It was that of easy, wandering conversation that goes wherever it wants to without any particular thought in mind.

They talked about the academy, about Arista’s spar with Lucas, about the look on Callius’s face when both his sisters had turned on him simultaneously. They laughed more than once.

The afternoon had settled into a deep, comfortable warmth.

Eventually they rounded a gentle curve in the path and came to a stop.

Ahead of them, slightly off the path, was a stretch of ground where the grass grew thick and close, that looks almost deliberately soft, the kind that invites you to sit down whether you planned to or not. The branches of a large old tree spread wide above it, and the shade they cast fell across the grass in a cool, shifting pattern, moving slowly with the breeze.

Azael looked at it for a moment.

"This looks like an excellent place to sleep," he said. His eyes exploring the grass.

Arista glanced at the spot. Then at him.

"It really does," she agreed, with a quiet laugh.

Azael took a few casual steps away from her along the path, as though he had simply decided to look at something else.

"I might take a quick nap actually," he said, his back half-turned.

"Sure," Arista said easily, not looking at him. Her gaze had drifted toward the garden.

A brief silence.

Then Azael moved. A wicked idea came to him.

He turned and covered the distance between them in three quick strides, silent enough that the only warning she had was some instinct that made her start to turn.

"Azael, what—" her eyes widened after seeing him coming towards her like a predator. But he looked cute predator to her.

Afterall she was stronger than him.

His arms went around her waist and he threw his weight forward.

Because it was him, because it was Azael– she didn’t twist away or drop into any kind of defensive stance. She just turned, and then they were already falling, and she had just enough time to look genuinely surprised before.

Thud.

They landed together on the thick bed of grass, Azael on top, both of them hitting the soft ground with enough impact to knock the air out of the moment entirely.

A beat of silence.

"What," Arista said, staring up at him, "are you doing. You just lunged at me and threw ourselves on grass."

Azael looked down at her. His expression was entirely relaxed. Pleased with himself, even.

"Spending time with you I guess...I mean we never played together when we were kids ," he said simply.

She stared at him for one long second.

Then a slow smirk spread across her face.

Her hand shot up, grabbed him by the collar, and pulled rolling her weight at the same time and suddenly it was Azael on his back looking up at the tree branches while Arista settled over him, one knee on either side, pinning his shoulders with both hands.

He could feel her thick muscular thighs that any man could die for them. But for now his focus was entirely on her...not in bad way. Because he genuinely wanted to get closer to her.

She raised an eyebrow.

"You thought you could get the drop on me?"

"I did get the drop on you," he pointed out.

"And look where it got you." She smirked.

He pushed back.

She didn’t let go easily and what followed was less a fight than a prolonged, undignified argument conducted entirely through momentum and laughter.

"Damn! Why are you so big and strong!" Azaek said between their battle.

"Who did you call big? How could you say such thing to a delicate lady like me. You deserve punishment!!" 𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒆𝙬𝒆𝒃𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝙡.𝒄𝓸𝒎

They rolled across the grass in both directions, each of them trying to gain the upper position, Azael throwing his full effort into it while Arista handled him with the casual ease of someone who was genuinely going easy and making no particular secret of that fact.

He knew she was holding back. She knew he knew. Neither of them minded.

At one point Azael got his arm around her shoulders and thought he had it, and then found himself on his back again looking at the sky with no clear memory of how that had happened.

Arista was laughing, "Hahaha look at you! Trying so hard," Her laughing sound, it was such a good sound that he found himself laughing too despite losing

"Haha! Don’t underestimate me."

Eventually they both simply stopped.

They lay side by side on the grass, slightly out of breath, staring up at the canopy of branches above them. The shade was cool and steady. The breeze moved through the leaves in a slow, quiet rhythm.

Their expensive and luxurious outfit were dirty now. Yet they didn’t mind at all.

The sun was still high but the wind kept the warmth from being too much. It was, Azael thought, exactly the kind of afternoon that made you want to stay in it for as long as possible.

"Damn..we acted like kids...and I guess even noble kids don’t act like this." Arista said with amused chuckle.

"Who cares. I enjoyed."

"Me too." She agreed.

He exhaled slowly.

"I’m taking that nap now," he said. "Wake me up later."

Arista laughed softly beside him.

"Sleep well, baby."

He didn’t dignify that with a response.

He closed his eyes.

The breeze moved across the grass. The leaves shifted above them. Somewhere further down the garden Mira and Evan were still playing, their voices faint and distant.

The quiet was very good.

Arista lay still beside him, looking up at the branches for a while. Then her eyes grew heavy and slowly. Her body has decided the argument is over and before she had fully decided to sleep, she was already asleep..

Sometime after that, without waking fully, Azael shifted.

His arm moved and found her, pulling her gently closer until she was settled against his side, her head near his shoulder, her warmth steady against him.

Neither of them stirred again.

They slept under the shade of the old tree while the afternoon light moved slowly through the branches above them, and the garden was quiet, and the breeze came and went as it pleased.