The scene playing out before Luhan is nauseatingly sweet.  Their small group is situated in the gardens, sitting in a messy circle on the grass.  Minseok rests to his right and Wufan to his left while Joonmyun takes up the other space beside Minseok.  Sehun and Jongin are directly across from Luhan, almost molded into one entity.  Only minutes earlier, Jongin had his hands on Sehun’s sides, tickling until the boy ended up on his lap.  And after the laughter had died and the mood calmed, Sehun never removed himself.

 

Luhan takes careful note of the way Jongin has his hands wrapped possessively around Sehun’s waist, how his head is perched on Sehun’s shoulder.  It’s an intimate position and it’s not necessarily jealousy that churns Luhan’s stomach, but want.  He wants someone to look at him the way Sehun and Jongin look at each other, to touch him softly and share inside jokes and spin off into their own little world despite being in a crowd.

 

Their bond is special, something new and different and Luhan envies how open they are about it.  Words bubble up, trickle onto the tip of his tongue, waiting to be spilled.  He sighs and looks at Wufan who almost imperceptibly shakes his head.  Wufan always seems to know what he’s thinking and, to Luhan’s annoyance, manages to warn him off.  His hands ball in the grass and he leans back, enjoying the sun on his face as he tunes the others out.

 

“You ok?”  Minseok’s voice is soft, caressing the shell of Luhan’s ear and he can’t help the smile that pulls up his lips.  The closeness sends his heart racing and makes him feel a little giddy.  It’s nothing to worry over, though, because Minseok’s had this effect on him for over a year now.  He’s starting to get used to it.

 

“M’fine,” he answers, lolling his head to the side to give his friend a reassuring nod. A breeze ruffles through Minseok’s hair, red strands catching in sunlight and Luhan reaches out with a foot to kick at Sehun because he’s doing it on purpose.  The smirk on Sehun’s face proves it when Luhan looks his way.  Such a perceptive little devil.

 

It’s too nice a day to be in a foul mood anyway.  Luhan takes his chance when Minseok gets tipped over by Joonmyun and ends up in his lap.  With a laugh, he grabs him and holds him still, keeps Minseok as his prisoner under the guise of playfulness.  Minseok’s smile is breathtaking, his eyes a startling blue for a few seconds and then Joonmyun is fighting off ice crystals lunging at his head.  Minseok’s getting better with his shapes.  Some of them are more intricate than others, Luhan groaning when Joonmyun bats the one shaped as a rose bud to the ground and it shatters.

 

Luhan spies another one he likes, using his own specialized magic to levitate it out of Joonmyun’s reach.  It spins softly over the palm of his hand, glistening from the sun and glowing a faint blue.  The chiseled heart is captivating, Luhan leaning in to examine it further, see his reflection on the innumerable facets and smile in wonder as the blue core pulses with magic.

 

If only it were this easy to capture Minseok’s heart.

 

 

 

 

“It’s getting harder.”  Wufan’s boots come off and he slides them under the bed.  His shirt is discarded next, landing in the pile of dirty laundry that Luhan will need to deal with soon.  He doesn’t particularly enjoy cleaning spells, but they come in handy.

 

Wufan’s statement draws little reaction from Luhan as he busies himself with putting away the parchments he’d scattered over the small desk earlier.  A few slip from his grasp and he stops them from falling, brings them back into his hands with his magic before shoving the sheets inside a book and sliding it on the shelf.

 

“Luhan,” Wufan says forcefully, demanding his attention.  And when he doesn’t grant it, Wufan attempts to grab him, but Luhan darts out of the way.

 

“I don’t need an intervention.”  Luhan’s robes come off and he doesn’t bother kicking them toward the pile.  They’ll serve as a barrier between the bottom of his feet and the cold stone in the morning.

 

“But you do need to talk about it.  Bottling all this up isn’t going to do either of us any good.”

 

Wufan is met with stony silence.

 

“If you let something slip -”

 

“I won’t.”  Luhan shimmies out of his tunic and slips into bed, settling down beside his Guardian.  Long arms wrap around him, pulling him close and he feels Wufan’s lips on his forehead.

 

“I worry.”

 

Luhan sighs, wiggling one of his legs between Wufan’s for warmth.  “What if it didn’t matter?” he asks quietly.  “What if making what I can do known is the best course of action?”

 

“I know you hate keeping this a secret, but we agreed.”  Wufan turns a little and Luhan knows he’s studying his face, watching for signs of distress.  There are plenty.  “Your safety is my one and only concern and I will not put you in jeopardy when the outcome is so uncertain.”

 

Wufan seems to take Luhan’s silence as acceptance and it isn’t long before he hears his even breathing.  Sleep is something Luhan’s troubled mind can’t grasp and he stares out the small window of their room until the sun comes up, wondering if his secret is so much worse than what Sehun and Jongin have.

 

 

 

 

An explosion erupts from the bowels of the school, shaking the foundations and Luhan grips his desk, fear and adrenaline lacing together to race through his veins.  He’s out of his seat, spells forgotten and the objects he’d had floating in air left to fall to the stone floor.  The building rocks and the door frame provides support enough for him to not fall over, fingers digging into wood.  The hall fills with other students and several professors, clearly shaken.

 

For a moment he thinks the school’s managed to come unspelled from the back of the dragon as another lurch sends him hurtling toward the opposite wall.  He’s stopped just before his face would have impacted, Wufan’s arms wound tight around his waist.  “What’s going on?”

 

Wufan shields Luhan as another rumble forces several other students to careen in their direction.  Luhan is flush against the wall, chest to chest with his Guardian and his heart is slamming against his ribs.  Can Wufan save him if they’re all falling to their deaths?

 

Ever the headstrong warrior, Wufan takes Luhan by the wrist and all but pulls his arm out of its socket as they run down the hall as soon as the shaking ceases.  There are people still in the way, some curled against the wall and some bouncing along the stone in sanctuary bubbles.  Luhan nearly meets someone in a bubble head-on, squeaking and ducking to avoid the collision because Wufan is only picking up speed.  The hem of his blue robe catches on his shoes and his breath begins to speed as he’s pulled along.  “Where are we going?” he demands.

 

“To find out what that was,” Wufan says as if it was the obvious answer.

 

It’s not so obvious to Luhan.  He’d rather barricade himself in his room, bar the door and latch the window and toss a spell around it all for protection.  They get to the stairs, sconces already doused and Luhan conjures a ball of blue flame to light their way.  It’s a steep spiral down and Luhan still hears the scared shrieks of the people above them.  He trembles, wanting to run from whatever is down in the depths of the dungeons.

 

Students don’t come down here - aren’t permitted under any circumstances.  Wufan doesn’t seem to care and he’s dragging Luhan right along with him into the deep of the castle.  Luhan whimpers, his flame sputtering as he loses focus.  There’s silence this far down - silence and darkness and he wiggles his wrist out of Wufan’s grasp so he can take his hand.  He needs the support.

 

The stairs are vibrating, the outer edges breaking off in little pieces and Luhan shrieks when the ones just below them break from the wall completely and fall into the darkness.  The school is shaking again, much harder than before and tears well in his eyes before spilling down.  Wufan lets go of his hand and Luhan can’t breathe.  He’s on the verge of hyperventilating, unable to handle this.  Sorcerers are trained to be clear-headed in tense situations, to think quickly and act faster to preserve as much life as possible.  But he’s not there yet.  He’s just a student and he’s terrified.

 

Wufan’s voice rings out.  “Jump, Luhan.”

 

“I can’t.”  The flame dims and his knees are shaking and Wufan is holding out his arms.  He’s on the other side of the gap, a good six stairs separating them.  Luhan can’t make it that far.

 

“You can.  Calm down and breathe.”

 

Luhan pulls long drags of fresh air in through his nose, letting it fill his lungs and escape through his mouth.  His head is spinning and the flame goes out, but he’s stopped trembling.  He closes his eyes, focuses on his magic and on Wufan’s protection and the bond that pulls them together.  Wufan won’t let him fall.

 

The flame comes to life in his palm once more, brighter than before and he sees Wufan still waiting, arms extended.  The Guardian gives him a nod and an encouraging smile that eases the last of Luhan’s fears.  He goes up a few stairs before rushing down, momentum building in his legs.  The muscles in his calves tense and he springs from the balls of his feet, racing through the air with nothing underneath him.  And then Wufan catches him, one arm around his waist and the other curling around the back of his neck, pulling him close and away from the edge.

 

“You did well.”

 

“I knew you’d catch me.”

 

“Let’s go.”  Wufan takes his hand and they restart their trek into the darkness.  There’s nothing save for their breathing to break through the silence, the quaking stopped for the moment.

 

“We shouldn’t be here,” Luhan whispers.  “This place is forbidden.  If there’s something wrong, the professors -”

 

A pained scream echoes straight up from beneath them, freezing Luhan’s blood in his veins.  He’s never heard anything sound so desperate, so full of agony and it nearly brings him to his knees.  A torrent of wind nearly knocks him down and Luhan gasps.  “Sehun,” he says, eyes widening in realization and stomach churning.  “Sehun!” he calls.  And now all Luhan wants is to get down to his friend.

 

Wufan and Luhan both nearly fall when they hit the bottom of the stairs, not expecting everything to stop so suddenly.  There’s nothing but pitch black, too dark and seemingly moving and Luhan realizes that it’s spelled shadows.  They’re meant to keep people trapped.  They can’t let it touch them.  “Follow me,” he says, taking his place in front of Wufan and leading him through.  His flame is just enough to keep the inky shadows at bay, careful steps leading them to the one room in the distance with light spilling out.

 

The wooden door falls open at his touch, and Luhan expects to be surrounded by Sorcerers, but they’re all too focused on someone else.  Two someones in the middle.  It’s almost like an arena, a dozen Sorcerers spread around it and Luhan shakes his head in disbelief when he sees Sehun in the distance, arms chained over his head to a pole that disappears into the floor.  He’s struggling, fighting and every red robed person in the room is merely watching.

 

Sehun screams again and Wufan tries to drag Luhan from the room, a fist in the back of his robes, but he won’t budge.  There’s movement from the other end of the circle, someone fighting against an invisible barrier and losing, feet slipping backward in the dirt.  Jongin.  Sehun’s cry gets worse, voice cracking and sobs ripping through and Luhan can’t stand it.  The further away Jongin is pushed, the more Sehun fights, wind now whipping around the room.

 

And then the castle shakes, stone scraping and cracking and Jongin is gone.  Luhan in a sharp gasp only to let it out when Jongin reappears by Sehun’s side, falling to his knees as Sehun tries to reach down for him.  Someone appears next to them, dressed in red and Sehun’s begging voice carries over to Luhan’s ears.  Jongin is putting up a fight, but the magic binding his limbs is too strong and then he’s back on the other side of the barrier.

 

Sehun screams and Jongin is pushing against the unyielding wall that’s slowly separating them further.  There are tears spilling down Luhan’s cheeks, a pain in his chest that’s expanding because this is barbaric.  Jongin growls in rage and he is visibly shaking whilst putting up a valiant effort.  The walls tremble, the ground vibrates and Jongin returns to Sehun’s side with a sickening pop.

 

Silence descends.

 

Jongin is trying to lift to touch Sehun and he can’t.  Sehun is fighting the chains and losing.  Luhan’s heart breaks.

 

“Students are not permitted here.”  Luhan jumps back, right into Wufan’s arms as they’re met with the face of Elder Lee.  He’s scowling at them and Luhan fears for their safety.  Elder Lee conjures a portal and pushes Luhan and Wufan through before stepping in after.

 

They’re in their room, everything disheveled from the constant quakes, but Luhan is more worried about the head of their school looking so displeased.  “You two will stay in here until I have time to decide an appropriate punishment.”  He takes the portal back and it vanishes, leaving them alone.

 

Luhan crumples and Wufan is there to catch him, carrying him to the bed.  They lay curled together, Luhan sobbing and Wufan comforting him the best he can.  He’s known Sehun his entire life, loves him dearly and to see him in so much agony and anguish at the hands of the people responsible for them is terrifying.

 

Deep down, Luhan knows it’s because of their new bond, of the uncharted new magic that’s taken hold of Sehun and Jongin both.  He shudders, tightening his hold on Wufan because that could have been him.  If he’d come forward with his secret, told his superiors what he can do, would they be torturing him too?

 

“Thank you,” Luhan whispers into Wufan’s chest.

 

“For what?”

 

“Helping me keep it in.”

 

Wufan’s arms grip him closer and Luhan feels a little safer.

 

 

 

 

Two days of solitary confinement is a punishment disproportionate to the crime.  There’s a dampening field spelled into the walls, suppressing his magic until he barely feels it inside at all.  Where there used to be a familiar weight in his fingertips, trailing up his arms to pool into his chest, there’s now nothing.  It’s suffocating and each beat of his heart, each drag of air into his lungs feels weaker than the last.  Magic is his life’s blood and without it, he’s fading away.

 

Luhan scratches at the walls of the small room until his fingers are bloody and he has no more tears left to spill.  His voice is hoarse from yelling and his body shivers, unused to such conditions.  The cell he’s imprisoned in is barely wide enough for him to lay down and the only source of light is a window at least twenty feet straight up.  There’s hay in the corner and twice someone has opened the door long enough to slide a plate of food inside, only to slam it closed again before he can utter a sound.

 

Luhan may seem weak, but he’s not.  He can take a lot, but not the distance between him and Wufan.  His entire body aches for Wufan, anxiously trying to clutch at a phantom limb.  The amount of pain that slices through him is akin to the day he was taken to call Wufan to him.  Only this time there’s no sweet release.  It’s Luhan rubbing the skin of his hands raw as he pounds on the door only to be ignored.

 

Through the haze of separation, Luhan notes that the school has finally stopped shaking.  It brings little comfort because he doesn’t know if that means they’ve simply let Sehun and Jongin go, or they pushed them too far.  Or maybe they’re doing some other form of archaic torment.  There are so many possibilities and Luhan desperately wants to see his friend again.  More than ever, he wants to hear Sehun’s teasing voice blowing through the wind, see his eyes crinkle in delight when he masters a new spell, feel the weight of his body slumped into his arms as Luhan guides him to his room after a long day.

 

The bond called Luhan away from Sehun for so long and he now regrets every moment.  His friend was left in the dust when he and Minseok bonded, leaving Sehun to play catch-up and Luhan knew he was hurting.  Sehun may have gotten good at schooling his emotions, but Luhan was never fooled.

 

Luhan thought things would get better after Sehun bonded, but he was wrong.

 

“Tell no one of what you’ve seen,” Elder Lee had commanded and Luhan shudders at the memory.

 

Tell no one of what you’ve seen.

 

 

 

 

Healing takes time.  Luhan’s magic is dim, the power only a fraction of what it was before they were forced apart.  Wufan curls around him, a shield to guard him from the world, a silent promise to never let this happen again filtering between them.  Luhan shivers, body soaking in the ambient magic that ties them together.  Slowly, he regains strength, taking advantage of Wufan’s firm chest and strong arms because he can’t do this alone.

 

A day passes and he feels well enough to be on his feet, although his steps are carefully chosen and Wufan is always just behind him, prepared to catch him if he falls.  Luhan wants to get out of the room, find Sehun and make sure he’s alright.  He wants to talk to Minseok, discover what lie they’ve told everyone about the school nearly falling to pieces.  But he’s not strong enough and the idea of leaving his room scares him.

 

Where once he sought solace and comfort in those wearing red robes, the ones who had taken him under their wing to raise and teach, he now feels fear.  It slices over him with cruelty and Luhan retreats to the safety of his bed and Wufan.

 

“I need to speak with her.”

 

It’s mid-afternoon on the third day after their release and the sun is shining brightly through the window.  Half of Wufan’s face is blinding, the other half buried in shadow from his perch on the chair.  The book he has in hand is snapped closed with a resigned sigh.  “I know.”

 

 

 

 

There was a time, long ago, when the lands had been dominated by dragons.  Some were fierce and strong, burning and killing without thought.  Others were docile, preferring to live in peace so long as they were left alone.  And then there were the ones tainted by man, manipulated into doing his bidding.  The lust for power was so strong, the beasts could hardly fight the control over them and that was the darkest age.

 

The ability to link to a dragon’s mind was, at first, seen as a gift.  These men were surely meant for something greater if they could converse with a dragon, mold them to do their will.  Until each and every single person who possessed the dragon affinity turned greedy and used the beasts to seize control of villages and parishes and kingdoms.  Hundreds of years passed before the Sorcerers were able to sever the connection and that came at the expense of many lives - human and dragon alike.

 

Since then, it’s mandate to kill any human born with the dragon affinity before they grow strong enough to manipulate it.  It’s been over a thousand years and still the law stands.  There are too few dragons left in the world and no one has been born with the gift in several hundred years.

 

Or so they think.

 

Luhan and Wufan sit at the edge of the shield, staring out at the expanse of the dragon’s neck in front of them.  Where the magic barrier ends, her scales begin.  They’re a majestic iridescent pearl, catching the rays of the sun and reflecting every color imaginable.  Luhan used to sit here and watch rainbows dancing along her sinewy neck for hours and he regrets now that he hasn’t come to visit her lately.

 

The door Luhan keeps tightly sealed in his mind opens and he reaches out, nudges against the consciousness of the dragon gently.  The response is immediate and he feels her joy.

 

“It’s been a while, little one.”

 

“Forgive me. I was afraid.”

 

“You are afraid of something far more than being discovered with the affinity.  I can sense it.”

 

Luhan sighs and leans his head on Wufan’s shoulder, wondering how anyone could truly believe such a creature to be dumb.  In the tales of old, dragons were seen as smart and cunning, yet today they teach of mindless beasts of burden.  If only they knew.

 

“I’m more than afraid.”

 

“You should be.  There’s far more to this than you know.  Your friend Sehun is in danger.”

 

Luhan stiffens, his hand immediately finding Wufan’s to grasp.  “What are they doing to him?”

 

“Your Sorcerers do not understand magic.”  Her tone is clipped and strained and Luhan winces from it.  “I am sorry, child, but what you claim to manipulate is the shallowest end of the fountain.  What Sehun and Jongin have is one of the purest forms of magic, a soul bonding that will never stop pulling them together.  It is unheard of in your kind, but not in mine.”

 

“But what does that mean?  What are they doing to them?”

 

“There is a war coming, my young one.  A war that’s going to tear through the lands and there is nothing that can stop it.  The fools that run this school plan to tap into the soul bond and manipulate it.  They want to turn Sehun and Jongin into a weapon.”

 

The air leaves Luhan’s lungs in a rush and he whimpers, fear clawing desperately at him from every angle now.  “No,” he whispers and Wufan looks at him with wide eyes.

 

“If they succeed, it will wipe out everything.  Luhan, they can not meddle in magic they do not understand.”

 

“What can I do?  I’m not a Sorcerer.  My training is far from complete.”

 

“You do not need to overpower them.  Merely outthink them.  Luhan, you must.”

 

The sun begins to set in the distance and the dragon follows the circle dipping low in the sky.  Luhan watches without seeing, is numb save for the new knowledge now twisting inside his brain.  He has to save them.

 

But how?