The Shattered Crowns

The air shimmered with hues of luminous azure and regal purple, swirling and whipping through the camp like an ethereal tide. The mist licked at Akash's exposed skin, cool and biting, as though the storm itself was testing him. It coiled around his fingers, seeking warmth, before dissipating into the ever-moving haze.

Akash stared, wide-eyed. Smoke from the campfires rose into the storm, swallowed whole by the churning light. Beyond the camp, the world disappeared into a dreamlike void, where only streaks of light pierced the darkness.

Dante, noticing Akash's awe, smiled faintly. "It's something, isn't it? When I was a kid, we used to race the storms back to our village. If you got caught out in one of these…" He shook his head. "Bad business."

"I can't see the stars," Akash murmured, his voice barely audible.

"What?" Dante asked.

"My mother," Akash said, his eyes still fixed on the sky. "She told me I had to see the stars one day. But now…"

"Lunar Storms blot out the stars," Dante said quietly. "They've done so for centuries. But if the stars are still out there, I imagine they'd be breathtaking."

"I want to see them," Akash whispered.

For a moment, Dante didn't respond. Then he placed a hand on Akash's shoulder, steadying him as the boy stumbled over a rock hidden by the mist. "Careful," Dante said gently. "The storm can mess with your balance. It's disorienting at first."

Akash nodded, his gaze still lingering on the swirling lights. Together, they pressed on toward the mess tent.

The mist curled around them, a restless tide of light and shadows, as Dante led Akash toward the mess tent. When they finally stepped inside, the air was warm and heavy with the scent of roasted fish and spices. The storm outside seemed muted, its eerie glow filtering faintly through the tent's canvas walls. Candles lined the long wooden tables, their flames steady despite the occasional gust of wind.

At the far end of the tent, a man sat alone, hunched over his meal. His shoulders were broad, his posture relaxed, though there was an air of tension about him, like a coiled spring. A heavy beard covered his face, save for the jagged scar that ran across his right eye. He didn't glance up as they entered, his attention fixed on the food in front of him.

"Looks like you picked up another stray, Dante," the man said, his voice rough and low. "I thought Veneres was enough."

Dante grinned. "Ah, Fabien, you wound me. I thought you'd be composing your next serenade for Sillia by now."

Fabien grunted, finally looking up. His one good eye gleamed in the candlelight. "Last time I serenaded someone, I ended up with a sword through my gut. I don't recommend it."

"And yet, here you are, alive and well," Dante quipped, pulling a chair out for himself. "By the way, meet Akash Dorher and his rather impressive companion, Elys. Our newest recruit."

Fabien gave Akash a long, appraising look. "You've got a scrawny one this time, Dante," he said flatly. His gaze shifted to Elys, who lay at Akash's feet, the tiger's crimson coat catching the light. "Though I'll admit, the cat's got some bite."

Akash ignored the jab and slid into a seat across from Fabien, his eyes narrowing. "How did you get the scar?" he asked bluntly.

Fabien paused, his fork hovering over his plate. "Not telling a runt like you," he said gruffly.

Akash didn't flinch. He simply stared, his burgundy eyes locked on Fabien's face.

Fabien grunted again, returning to his meal. "I told you, I'm not telling."

"I know," Akash replied, his tone neutral.

"Then what do you want?"

"Nothing."

"Then stop staring."

"No."

The two sat in silence, glaring at one another, neither willing to break the standoff. Elys let out a low, rumbling purr, clearly amused by the exchange. Dante, who had gone to fetch food, returned with two plates in hand. He set one in front of Akash and tossed a raw fish to Elys, who caught it with ease.

Dante raised an eyebrow at the tension between the two. "What's this?" he asked, sitting down beside Akash. "A staring contest?"

Akash didn't answer. He picked up a piece of fish from his plate and ate it, his eyes never leaving Fabien's face. Fabien, not to be outdone, did the same, chewing methodically as if to challenge Akash's endurance. The two continued eating in silence, their glares unwavering.

Dante shook his head, leaning back in his chair. "You two are ridiculous," he muttered, glancing down at Elys. The tiger met his gaze with what could only be described as a feline smirk. "At least someone here has manners," Dante added.

When both plates were finally empty, Fabien let out a booming laugh, breaking the tension. "You've got a spine, boy," he said, slamming a fist against his chest. "I like that. You eat like one of the Wardens already. You should join my battalion."

"I have no idea what that means," Akash replied, his tone dry.

Fabien puffed out his chest, his voice booming. "I am the Sovran of the Wardens Battalion! We're the strongest, toughest fighters in the company. None of that dainty, fancy swordplay you see from the others. We fight with grit, muscle, and heart."

Dante cut in before Akash could respond. "Sorry, Fabien, but Jassin gets first pick. He'll assess Akash's skills before anything is decided. Besides," Dante added, a sly smile curling his lips, "I have other plans for him."

Fabien groaned, throwing his head back. "Jassin's just going to pawn him off to the Moonwalkers. You know how he is—always trying to pad your personal guard. It's a waste of a good recruit!"

Dante chuckled, patting Akash on the shoulder. "Don't worry about him. You'll have the final say in where you end up. Who knows? Maybe you'll be bigger than the Dauntless Company someday."

Fabien raised an eyebrow. "Another Veneres, huh? You've got a knack for finding these diamonds in the rough, Dante. How do you do it?"

Dante didn't answer, his smile enigmatic. Instead, he pushed back his chair and stood. "Our detour is over. Let's get you settled for the night, Akash."