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Lilia hit the ground hard enough to knock the breath from his chest. Dust from the training field puffed up around him as his wooden sword skidded from his grasp, spinning uselessly before coming to rest just out of reach from him. For a moment, he lay there staring up at the pale sky, ears ringing, heart pounding with more than just pain.
“Again?” Someone muttered from the sidelines. The other trainee stood over him, breathing hard but steady. They were the same age, not that Lilia would know. He didn’t remember how old he was, and he sure as hell didn’t bother learning the boy’s age- or name for that matter. Though it was clear that the world had decided to be much kinder to one of them. The boy was broader, heavier, already growing into the kind of strength Lilia could only imagine.
It wasn’t fair at all, what kind was he again? A boar? A pig? Something in that direction. It didn’t matter, they all looked the same. Which was unfortunate for him, since that meant they were all bigger than him. He was just a bat, useless small vermin. The only thing useful about that is that they can fly and even that is something Lilia hadn’t mastered yet.
“Do you yield?” The boy asked, not cruelly. Almost bored. They had been in this situation far too often. Lilia didn’t know when to give up.
Lilia clenched his jaw and pushed himself upright, hands trembling as he reached for his sword. His arms ached. His legs burned. Every part of him screamed that he was tired, that he had already lost. But giving up felt worse.
They clashed again. Three strikes. Four. Then the impact came too fast, too strong, and Lilia was on the ground once more.
“Enough,” the instructor said at last, voice firm. “That’s all for today.”
Relief and humiliation tangled together in Lilia’s chest. He bowed stiffly, retrieved his sword, and left the training grounds without looking at anyone. He didn’t need to see the guards’ careful indifference or hear the whispered reassurances meant to soften the blow. He knew what they all thought of him, they knew he was vermin as well. Vermin that got lucky that the queen just happened to find him entertaining enough to keep around.
He sat alone later, legs dangling off a stone ledge overlooking the courtyard, staring at his hands. They were small. Calloused, yes, but small. He flexed his fingers, imagining them wrapped around a real blade one day, he wondered whether he could ever get a Magearm one day and what kind it would even be. Hopefully something cool and elegant, like a halberd or a sword. That way he could properly stand next to Maleanor
Maleanor was everything he wasn’t, tall, powerful, elegant, radiant in a way that made people straighten just by being near her. Even now, still young, her presence pressed down on the world like a promise of something vast and inevitable. She was meant for greatness and everyone knew it.
And Lilia was supposed to protect her, to stand next to her with even an ounce of the confidence she possessed.
That night, like most nights, sleep wouldn’t come. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw himself falling. Heard the dull crack of his sword hitting the ground. Felt the weight of eyes on him, measuring, doubting. So he left. The castle was quiet in that peculiar way it always was before dawn, when even the guards seemed to breathe more softly. Lilia slipped through corridors he knew by heart, out into the open air where the forest loomed dark and welcoming.
Here, no one watched him fail.
Moonlight filtered through the branches as he practiced, swinging his sword again and again. He corrected his stance the way he’d been taught, gritted his teeth when his arms shook, and kept going long past the point where his muscles screamed. He tripped on a root and fell, bonking his head against the ground. He sucked in a sharp breath, blinking hard. “Get up,” he muttered to himself. “You have to.”
He imagined Maleanor standing behind him, imagined something charging out of the darkness toward her, imagined himself stepping in front of her without hesitation. The thought tightened his chest and steadied his grip.
Again. Again. Again.
The sky was just beginning to pale when the air changed. “Lilia.” Her voice wasn’t calm as it always was.
He froze mid-swing and turned slowly.
Maleanor stood on a thick tree branch, looking down at him. Her dark hair loose around her shoulders, eyes glowing faintly in the dim light. Her wings were folded tight against her back, scales catching the last silver of the moon. She was wearing her nightgown but somehow didn’t look less elegant. She looked smaller like this, even when looking down at him. There wasn’t a court or heavy jewelry, just her and something sharp living in her gaze. Her brows furrowing in disapproval.
“You were gone,” she said. “I woke up and you weren’t there.”
“I—” Lilia lowered his sword, suddenly unsure where to put his hands. “I was training.”
She took a step closer, jumping off the branch and using her wings to land directly in front of him. She was a whole head taller than him. “Without telling me. And for what?”
He looked down. “I didn’t want to bother you.”
Her jaw tightened. “Having fun without me” she said, and there it was, something wounded beneath the words. “Sneaking off to the forest while I’m stuck with boring lectures.”
The idea startled a weak laugh out of him. “Fun?” He shook his head. “No. Never that.”
“Then why?” she asked. “Why leave in the middle of the night?”
Lilia hesitated. The truth pressed against his ribs, heavy and sharp. Finally, he said it. “Because I lost,” he whispered. “Again.”
Maleanor went still, her tail stopped swishing behind her as it often did when she had been angered.
“I can’t beat him- them- any of them,” Lilia continued, words spilling now that they’d started. “They’re bigger. Stronger. Levan says I’ll catch up, but what if I don’t? What if I never do?” His grip tightened on the sword until his knuckles ached. “If I can’t win, then I can’t protect you. And if I can’t do that, then I’m useless.”
“That’s not- ” She stopped herself, breath catching. “That’s not true.”
“But it feels true,” he said. “Everyone expects me to be your guard. That’s all I’m for. And if I fail at that—”He couldn’t finish.
Maleanor closed the distance between them, close enough that he had to look up at her. Her expression wasn’t angry now. It was something quieter. “Everyone is always deciding what I need,” she said softly. “What I’ll become. A ruler. A weapon. A queen strong enough to scare the world into behaving.” Her eyes flicked away for a moment. “No one asks if I’m scared. Or lonely.”
“When you disappear,” she said, “it feels like you’re leaving me behind, like I’m too boring for you to be around.”
“I wasn’t leaving,” Lilia said quickly, panic flaring. “I’d never leave you. I swear. I just- I need to be better. I need to be enough.”
Maleanor reached out and placed her hand against his arm. It was cold, grounding. Real. “You already are,” she said. “Right now, I don’t need someone to stand in front of me with a sword.” Her fingers tightened slightly. “I need a friend. Someone who stays. Someone who talks to me like I’m just… me.” She looked at him then, truly looked. “Protecting me can come later. That’s not why you’re special. You don’t even have to be special… just, be mine”
The word settled into him slowly, like something fragile finding a place to rest. That’s how the two of them spent the remainder of the night, walking along the thick branches of the trees high above, talking about whatever. She was distracting him from what was important, but for once he didn’t mind. She was important, the most important.
The sun crept higher, thin rays slipping through the branches. Lilia squinted, eyes stinging as the light grew stronger. Before he could complain, a shadow fell over him. Maleanor unfurled one wing, angling it carefully so it blocked the sunlight completely. The space beneath it was cool and dim, the world suddenly quieter. Lilia stared, startled.
“You always forget the sun bothers you,” she said, almost fondly. “You push yourself until you forget everything else.”
“…I’m bad at stopping,” he admitted, ducking closer without thinking.
They sat there together as the forest woke, birds calling softly, dew glinting on leaves. Lilia’s sword lay forgotten in the grass.