Lucian feels exhaustion dragging at his limbs today, unable to match the boundless energy that always seems to radiate off of Aaron. He didn’t sleep at all last evening. That would be normal for him, if it weren’t for the circumstances that led to his sleeplessness. Yesterday felt like the longest day in history. Fin had shown up unexpectedly at the Moon Temple with Mina, and the three of them… The two of them… Had spent most of the day together. His racing thoughts that evening wouldn’t allow him to sleep even if he’d wanted to.
Aaron frowns at Lucian with a hint of concern. Apparently, he’d asked a question. Lucian blinks.
“Uhhh…”
Aaron shakes his head and gives Lucian a humorous glance.
“I asked what you want to spar with today, Lucian,” he says.
“Oh. You pick, I don’t care.”
“That’s not really fair to you.”
Lucian rolls his eyes. Aaron’s right, but it doesn’t make him any less annoying. It doesn’t matter what weapon Aaron chooses to use, because his magic allows him to use anything he puts his hands on with precision. Lucian doesn’t have that kind of luxury.
“Just pick something, Aaron,” Lucian mutters.
Aaron saunters over to the weapons rack and looks at it thoughtfully, his footsteps making imprints in the wet grass.
“Well, if you insist…”
But Aaron pauses his search and looks at Lucian with a scowl.
“Why are you so pissy today?” he asks.
Lucian frowns.
“I’m not-”
Aaron grins.
“It’s that girl, isn’t it?”
“Shut. Up.”
Lucian never should have told Aaron about Mina. But he doesn’t have the heart to lie to him, and the only reason Lucian had been able to slip away yesterday without Vaughn or Iris noticing was because Aaron had offered to cover for him. Of course, that meant Aaron had bombarded him with questions when Lucian returned to their room later. He’s ridiculously invested in the idea of Lucian having a love life, it’s embarrassing. Though, Lucian would rather talk to Aaron about these things than either of his inscrutable mentors. If they knew…
Both almost-assassins practically jump out of their skin when a third voice joins the conversation.
“Aaron. I’ll be sparring with Lucian today.”
Lucian’s blood turns to ice. They both turn to see Iris standing there, relaxed, but with a frostiness about her that warrants avoidance. They hadn’t even noticed her enter the courtyard.
Aaron looks at the weapons rack with a pout.
“But…”
Iris glares, and Aaron shrinks back. Aaron glances at Lucian guiltily.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers as he passes Lucian to go back inside.
Shit. He’d told her. Or he’d tried to lie to her. With Iris, it’s the same thing.
Lucian and Iris watch each other for a moment as Aaron retreats to the safety of the Moon Temple. When the door closes, Lucian gestures to the weapons.
“I was letting Aaron pick-”
“Knives,” Iris says, just as sharp.
That’s usually what she chose. It was her favorite, a preference that she had long-since passed on to Lucian as well. Lucian nods and goes to collect a set for himself as Iris draws her own. She always keeps them on her.
“Unsheathed,” she adds.
Lucian hesitates and looks at Iris with a question in his eyes. But she looks at him steadily and tilts her head; a challenge.
“Unsheathed, then…” Lucian says warily.
Lucian barely has a moment to remove the protective covers before Iris is already on him in a flurry, giving him no breathing room. The shock of it certainly wakes him up, but his reaction speed is still slower than Iris. It takes her all of ten seconds until one of the knives is out of his hand and flung to the ground. She takes a step back after that and looks at him, cold and assessing.
“You’re distracted,” she says.
“I’m tired.”
“That’s no excuse. Again.” She nods at the disarmed knife at that last part.
This time she allows Lucian to ready himself before she goes on the offensive again. And yet, it’s the same thing: disarmed in an embarrassing amount of time. Iris narrows her eyes.
“I taught you better,” she says.
There’s something layered under the statement more than just the immediate situation. Lucian knows how Iris speaks; nothing is ever what it first appears.
“You’re not talking about sparring,” he says.
“At least your mind is quicker than your blade. Again.”
Lucian obediently retrieves the knives again, forcing down the frustration with himself. Self-loathing is a distraction he can’t afford right now. The technique seems to work as Lucian puts Iris on the defensive this time. But as Iris is fond of reminding him, there are more weapons at one’s disposal than simply the ones in their hands. As Lucian manages to lock knives with her and is about to disarm her, she reminds him again.
“You love her?”
Lucian’s hand slips, and Iris’ blade gashes his forearm. Lucian instinctively drops his knife with a sharp intake of breath from the pain. He examines the injury quickly, and Iris watches him without interruption. Nothing serious. His magic will heal it quickly enough when they’re done. He wipes the blood away and looks back at Iris, who’s still waiting for a response. Like dropping the knife, his response is born purely from instinct:
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Iris doesn’t say anything, but she raises an eyebrow. Her eyes produce a faint, white glow as she activates her magic. It was a stupid thing to say. She’s giving him a chance to rectify his error. Lucian releases a slow breath before giving his real answer:
“No.”
The glow in Iris’ eyes flickers out, and her expression shifts to one of resigned disappointment.
“You’re lying,” she says.
Lucian scowls.
“I’m telling you the truth, Iris. I barely know h-”
“Then you lie to yourself.”
With her ability to detect lies, it’s impossible to argue with Iris. If her magic says he has feelings for Mina deep down, then that’s the truth, even if Lucian doesn’t recognize it himself. The revelation makes him sick to his stomach.
Iris watches him wrestle with himself for a moment, then casually cleans the blood off her knife.
“What have I always told you is the most important aspect of an effective Blade?” she asks.
And so the real lesson begins.
“Mastery of self,” Lucian answers without hesitation.
“And yet you would lie to yourself.”
Lucian glances away. There’s no point in arguing. Iris continues anyway.
“Know yourself, Lucian. But never allow your heart to rule your head. Again.”
Lucian slowly picks up the knife again at her command, ignoring the blood dripping down his arm.
“There are no rules against one of Luna’s Blades being in a relationship,” he points out.
Iris scoffs. “Did Helen tell you that?”
Lucian doesn’t respond as he takes a ready stance. Iris looks at him sharply.
“There is what is permissible, and there is what is wise,” Iris says, her words cutting. “And I never took you for a fool, Lucian…”
Iris’ expression darkens.
“...But perhaps I was mistaken.”
Lucian launches an attack at her, surprising himself with his own ferocity. Iris always said that emotional combat was Vaughn and Aaron’s purview, and only one Blade was allowed to be reckless. It was the responsibility of the other to counterbalance. Iris taught Lucian to be the rational one. To be ruled by his emotions in combat was the greatest betrayal of her teachings and all he was ever meant to be. She looks at his attacks now with dismay, but his speed picks up, and he’s finally matching her skill.
A knife goes spinning away into the grass, and Iris looks down at her now-empty hand. Lucian steps back and catches his breath, letting the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest calm him. Iris looks at him thoughtfully.
“You and I are alike in many ways, Lucian, but you differ in one…”
Lucian waits for Iris to finish, unsure of where she’s going with this.
“Your greatest strength has always been your heart.”
Lucian looks at her, stunned. That was almost a compliment. She never compliments him. Iris looks borderline amused at his surprise.
“Am I right to assume that you only intend to give your heart once?” she asks.
“I haven’t really thought about it,” Lucian admits.
“Then I would urge you to consider to whom it belongs. A gift that can only be given once holds immense value… But only to the recipient.”
Lucian considers her words for a moment, shifting his weight between his feet.
“It belongs to me,” he says, a bit of edge in his tone.
Iris looks at him critically.
“That’s one answer.”
“Apparently the wrong one, in your estimation,” Lucian shoots back.
Iris sighs.
“I can’t answer it for you, Lucian. All I can do is guide your mind to the right decision.”
“And what do you think the right decision is?”
Iris examines his face, her own expression, a mask.
“To claim your heart as yours alone is valid. There is something to be said for retaining your strength for yourself. But when you keep it, you are forced to guard it.”
Iris looks at the knife in her other hand thoughtfully.
“The problem with guarding your own heart…”
Iris suddenly lunges at Lucian with her remaining knife, aiming straight for his chest. Lucian catches her arm and redirects the strike past his head instead.
Iris tilts her head, but doesn’t step away. She finishes her thought.
“... Is that you are incapable of guarding your back at the same time.”
Lucian feels the tip of a knife prod his back. He hadn’t noticed her drawing the second one during her feign attack.
“Then what’s the solution?” he asks.
“Simple,” she says, stepping away again. “You give it to those who guard it for you.”
“You?” Lucian asks dryly.
“To me. To Vaughn. To your brother. To our goddess. That is the only loyalty you have any business tying yourself to, Blade.”
Lucian freezes at that last part.
“I’m not a Blade yet,” he says hesitantly.
Iris sheathes her knives and scoops up the one she left on the ground.
“No. But you will be. After you make the right decision.”
Iris gives him a hint of a smile, pride warming her voice.
“And I have no doubt you’ll become one of the best Blades the Moon Level has ever known.”
Lucian is embarrassed with the compliment. He gives her a nod, perhaps to hide his flush.
“Thank you, Iris,” he says softly.
Iris’ face returns to its cold mask as she sheathes her final blade. She straightens her coat.
“Clean your wound, then report to Vaughn. We’re finished for today.”
As Iris turns to leave, Lucian speaks up.
“Did you tell Vaughn about…?”
About what? About yesterday? About Mina?
Iris hesitates before opening the door to the Moon Temple.
“No,” she says finally.
Iris’ eyes grow distant for a moment, lost in a memory that Lucian isn’t privy to.
“He wouldn’t understand it,” she says quietly.
Then she leaves. Lucian isn’t too long to follow. As he re-enters the Moon Temple, Aaron appears at his side.
“Gods, I’m so sorry, Lucian. I didn’t want to tell her, but she-”
“It’s fine, Aaron,” Lucian says coolly.
Aaron notices the gash on his arm and winces.
“What… What did she say?”
Lucian looks down at the drying blood.
“What she needed to,” he decides.
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