mods please delete

[korvid]

i'll change the title to something aesthetic when I think of it

[korvid]

//

/Ｌｕｋｃａｓ Ｅｊｄｅｒ /!!
/////_______________________________

+: clever, independent, charismatic
=: sarcastic, harsh, wreckless
-: arrogant, deceptive, petty, selfish

- 16 yrs
- homosexual/romantic
- a shorty, 5' 5"
- first prince, heir to the throne
- hates his fate and does everything in his power to actively avoid it
- an arrogant chatterbox who will interrupt you
- tends to say whatever is on his mind without filtering it first
- actually quite smart, just doesn't make good life decisions
- prone to panicking when stressed, reckless as hell
- dislikes being told what to do, gets bored easily
- thrives on chaos
- last name literally means dragon ;)))
look at this dumb edgy teenager

[quiche cat!]

heath urbane.

—tall asf (somewhere around 6ft)
—17 yrs
—definitely bisexual
—commoner
—part-time useless mage (apprentice to boris)
—not the smartest kid, but not the dumbest either
—hates people who look down on him even though he literally looks down on them
—hates people who take things for granted
—hates lots of things but usually for valid reasons
—loves his family & friends-- he'd do anything for them
—fc colin ford

might add more info later. ;-))

[korvid]

.

////As the castle wall vanished before him under a haze of heavy black smoke, Lukcas was sure he could see his life flashing before his eyes. This is really it, he thought to himself as an eerie calm made its way like fire through his veins, I’m going to die here, and it’s completely my fault. Somewhere in the distance, he heard orders being shouted, thundering brick as it fell, the hiss of ash. The last thing he managed to register before his sight failed him completely, was the orange lick of flames as they crawled up his arms.
…
////The day had begun average enough, or well average by Lukcas’s standards. Morning typically meant sneaking back into the castle before anyone noticed his absence, and this day was no different. Lukcas had a tendency to wander beyond the castle grounds late in the evening when his princely duties finally ended and ‘failed’ to make it back before nightfall. ‘Failed’ here being his way of explaining his disappearances to his siblings while not entirely lying to them about his motivations. Truly, he’d always meant to spend the night outside his particular wing of the castle. It was incredibly boring there, and quiet, silent to the point where he’d had trouble falling asleep. As a prince Lukcas had the right to leave the castle at any time he chose during the day sure, but doing so meant he would be accompanied by at least three royal guards, and only at the permission of his father or his mother, both of whom didn’t quite view him as competent enough to be traveling outside the castle walls for too long. At first, it was just finding some random spot to sleep at night that would keep him secluded from the weather while he slept, then he stocked up enough courage to go exploring. On an occasion or two, he’d pushed his luck and travel into town, trying to make himself as unnoticeable as possible as he went about buying food or items he’d never seen before or simply sightseeing. Both times he’d been recognized and forced back to the castle where he was disciplined harshly for “putting himself in such danger”. Both times he’d found a reason to not regret going. Last night had been the third time, and not a soul recognized him as the kingdoms first prince and future king.
////Lukcas scaled the small stone wall which separated the castle grounds from the road that circled it, gazing out over the expanse of green hills before him. Where the castle gardens ended, the iron gate began, a row of soldiers standing guard over its entrance. Lukcas bypassed them completely, following the stone wall to where it met the treeline and parting the mass of bushes to reveal a weakness in the fence where it cracked just enough for him to squeeze through. From there he simply went about his day as if he’d just woken up early and gone for a stroll. No one was worse for wear and he’d accomplished much more than he’d thought he would. His spoils from the night: an item he’d bought from an alchemist at the edge of town who, luckily for Lukcas, seemed not to ever leave his shop. The man claimed that when activated it projected a number of colors into the air like sparks. Lukcas had stopped browsing the moment ‘explosion’ was spoken and immediately bought the object, listening as the man explained to him how it worked and listed off a whole host of warnings. Most importantly of which being the danger of burning down literally everything around him including and not limited to his own arms. Alchemy was not something he was proficient in with by any means, but he’d gained the basic gist of it over years of pestering the castle’s resident alchemist. Thus, he was fairly confident in his ability to properly activate the item and spook the hell out of his siblings. Anything to keep his boredom from driving him insane.
////It was still early, but already the castle was beginning to stir. Lukcas ducked into the first open door he spotted and made a beeline for his room. He’d need to hide what he’d procured until he saw fit to use it, especially with his pain of a brother probably already in search of him. A cool breeze made its way in through the half-open windows which stood to his left, mussing his hair as he walked. Just a little further and-
////“Yes, I’m sure he was heading in this direction…” Came a voice from somewhere behind him. Lukcas picked up his pace, practically jogging. He was tempted to start running but was ultimately forced to stop by all too familiar voice of his brother.
////Lukcas swung around, an annoyed smile on his face, tucking the item as far into his pocket as he could manage. “Oh! Morning Sebastian. Odd seeing you here, it’s quite early, isn’t it? Thought for sure you’d be sleeping, what with all of the upcoming events, must be exhaust-” His brother cut off his rambling with an exasperated sigh, motioning for the guard who’d most likely spotted Lukcas to return to his position.
////“Father’s looking for you,” Sebastian began, “if you go quickly I’ll ignore all of, ‘this’” The taller prince gestured in Lukcas’ general direction as if the mere act of suspiciously fleeing to his room was somehow a crime.
////“Can’t you just go and fill in for me?” Lukcas teased sidestepping further down the hall. It was worth the remark just seeing his brother's eyes widen a bit. Maybe a few years ago they’d been able to fool a few people here and there, having always been similar in appearance so much so that some people suspected they were twins. Over the years, however, Sebastian's height had slowly exceeded his own, their hair a slightly different shade of brown, their features further removed from one another until they were no longer as alike as they had been while children. The second prince returned his comment with a frown, clearly unamused by his jesting. “He said it was important, better not keep him waiting.” But Lukcas was already making his way for the king's office. As much as he’d rather not, it usually was just easier to hear what his father had to say and continue on with his day. Lest he be hunted through the castle like a stray dog.
////”Yeah, yeah” he mumbled back, the click of metal on stone in his pocket.

////Lukcas wouldn’t describe his relationship with his father as bad per say, perhaps it was rather strained but he still respected the man who was his father- his king, albeit begrudgingly. He assumed that to those who hadn’t know the king their whole life he probably came across as rather intimidating. With Lukcas pathetic height his father stood over him like a giant, all furrowed brows and stern gazes. Lukcas gave him a smile as he approached, one which was not returned. The king wordlessly passed him a folded piece of parchment, waiting for Lukcas to read it in its entirety before he began to speak. It was a summons, one which seemed to have been sent to a number of kingdoms besides his own. After a moment of reading the prince knew exactly what it was, but kept reading anyway out of a misplaced sense of hope that maybe he was wrong. He wasn’t.
“We’ll be traveling out in two days time,” his father began, “this is an important opportunity for you to get to know those who will eventually be under your command. As well as to begin considering a consort. You’re approaching the age where it will be necessary to do so in order to secure yourself as much power as possible when it comes your time to reign, I would not advise throwing this opportunity away.” Lukcas attempted to pass the paper back to his father but was ignored entirely, the king returning to his desk where he lifted a pen and appeared to have already ended the conversation.
////“Yes well as lovely as all of that sounds- it doesn’t.” Lukcas huffed, shooing away the guard who had already opened to door for him. He wasn’t sure where to begin; disputing the claim that he somehow needed to mingle with a few dozen people who only respected him out of obligation or the attempt at already forcing him into a marriage. It was so utterly frustrating it was hard for him to fend off the urge to yell. “What if I choose not to go?” He’d forced his voice to remain calm. “Will you make me attend against my will?”
////Finally, his father looked up, a dangerous glint in his eyes. “Don’t start this again. It would be a mistake not to go and you know it.”
////“We’re not at war and you’re not on your deathbed, I see no reason why I would need to prepare to rule.” Lukcas countered ready in all regards to argue until he ran out of breathing, however, the king had already returned his gaze to his work, dismissing his son with the flick of his pen. “Two days,” he simply stated, not responding when Lukcas wrenched the door open and slammed it behind him. It wasn’t as if he were surprised by what was slowly transpiring around him without his consent. Perhaps he chose to ignore it more often than not but no matter how hard he tried this would ultimately be his fate, forced into a position he did not desire, a life he would hate. The anger bubbling in his chest was near to boiling over but he forced it down with a frustrated groan.
////Looking up Lukcas spotted his brother nearby, frozen as if he'd been midstep and walked into Lukcas's mess. Though he must had been eavesdropping on the conversation from the look of shock which painted his expression. It was no secret that his younger brother found their father to be far more intimidating than he himself did, and would not have argued with the king even if he were forced to.
////“You,” Lukcas accused.
////“Me,” Sebastian retorted, glancing warily at the door to the king’s office as if he might come out and continue reprimanding Lukcas at any moment.
////“It’s grossly unfair that the mere year which makes me older somehow means I’m more qualified to be king. Where’s your arranged marriage huh?”
////“I mean there’s always the chance we were accidently switched around at some point, would explain the immaturity.”
////“I would take offense at that if it didn’t help my case,” Lukcas grumbled.
Sebastian rolled his eyes. “Get off your high horse and just live with it. I’m sure there are worse things than being forced to inherit immense wealth and power.”
////“Unlikely” He countered. “You take it then.”
////“Well if you find a way to make that possible then come and find me,” His brother had clearly become vexed of the conversation, turning and waving Lukcas off. “I’ve got lessons to get to, I’m sure you do to.”
////Frustrated and beside himself the prince only opened his mouth and shouted after him, “I’d have to die for that you know!”
…
////In retrospect, it had not been what his father had said which made him light the spark, activate the rune stone and consequently begin a fire larger than anything he’d ever seen. It had been his brother’s comment and Lukcas's own subsequent reply. It was true, if he were dead he couldn’t become king. He’d light the fire, run away in the commotion faking his own death. A full proof plan, really. What he hadn’t counted for was the fire to not touch him, it swirled up his arms yet left no mark, no pain. Whether from shock or smoke inhalation when he blacked out and woke up flat on his back far enough from the castle for it to be merely a speck on the horizon, he’d know what happened. The feeling of wings outstretched until the tendons burned as he’d tipped into the empty field exhausted and panicked, still fresh in his mind. A grin split his lips as he eyes fell closed again, too tired to try moving just yet. Well, at least he wasn't bored anymore.

sorry i took so long none of my replies are ever gonna take a week lmao

[quiche cat!]

xxxxxx"Abracadabra." Less enthused than he was even when picking up piles of horse manure every morning, Heath spit out the word that was least likely to cast any sort of spell. If anything, it caused his mentor, Boris, to furrow his brows and give the boy a well-deserved flick to the forehead. Of course, rambling the cliché term wasn't going to cast a spell or summon a beast; in their practices, simply chanting the verse in their heads or making some sort of intricate motion with their hands would do the trick. Unfortunately for Heath, he was still learning the basics after countless years of studying the work of mages, so he had to verbally cast spells more than half the time due to his inexperience with casting them in his head. This resulted in multiple cases where passersby gave him funny looks and avoided him completely, for he was walking down the street and mumbling some foreign words in a foreign tongue. Mages weren't exactly the most popular people in town, nor was it complete public knowledge that they existed in several villages near the castle.
xxxxxxMost hand motions were also out of the question for him, aside from simple ones that summoned some type of medicinal herb or even a small blast of fire. When practicing these, his mentor took him as far away from the village as he could, saying that he took precautionary measures "in case anything went wrong." That was his nice way of saying, "Heath, you're unsafe to the public so I must practice with you away from all civilization." Heath appreciated the way Boris tiptoed around the fact that the boy was horrible at this job, for he was a ridiculously slow learner (most of the time) and would probably quit if his teacher told him he was useless.
xxxxxxBut, really, that was the truth, and Heath had come to accept his fate. Nowadays he took criticism seriously, and although anyone else would be better suited at being a mage than him, he would not give up and admit defeat to all those people that doubted him and his abilities. He wasn't destined to become the strongest or most feared mage, but he would play his role in the village and aid his friends and family in times of need. Probably. He wholeheartedly hoped so, because otherwise, he really was just a useless mage!
xxxxxx"Do it right, or I'm doubling your lessons for the rest of the week, kid. Don't test me." Boris's threats did nothing to Heath, and instead of giving in to his mentor's wishes, the boy stared blankly at him for a moment before reaching up to scratch his eyebrow.
xxxxxx"Ah, but I don't feel like it right now."
xxxxxx"Well I never feel like teaching a brat like you, so aren't we even?"
xxxxxxA smile crept onto Heath's lips as he listened to his mentor. They both knew very well where this was going, and that neither of them were being serious. Having been together for years upon years, their bond was close to that of two brothers, and nagging played a crucial role in their relationship. Without daily arguments, how on earth could they stand to live with each other day in and day out? It would be impossible—completely and utterly improbable, and more or less insufferable. Akin to actual brothers, the two mages would bite each other's heads off at their first chance, but were equally as likely to rush to each other's aid at the first beckon. Alas, they were troublemakers at heart and born partners in crime, regardless of the age gap or difference in childhood upbringing.
xxxxxx"Even as can be!" Lips still curved upwards in a genuine grin, Heath spread his arms out wide, creating a swooping motion with his fingers. "So, I'll just go take a break. I'm worn out, give a child a rest every once in a while!" Unintentionally, the young mage clasped his hands together in a swift motion, creating a puff of smoke that billowed out from between his fingers.
xxxxxxUh-oh.
xxxxxxThat was definitely not what he had been trying to do. Casting that spell was the last thing on his to-do list, if it was even on it at all!!
xxxxxxAlmost in unison, both mages betrayed their calm and collected expressions, replacing them with pure horror and fear. This spell, after being casted, was not put into effect immediately and instead was one of the few that had a delay after activation. If anything, they had less than ten seconds to find cover.
xxxxxx"Run, before we're toast!" Boris snatched a handful of Heath's collar and thrust him towards the nearest tree, making a beeline for it as Heath stumbled around and struggled to catch his balance. Damn, he didn't have to be so pushy! Of course he was planning on running, he knew very well what spell he'd just casted--
xxxxxxJust as Heath was dragged behind the tree, the smoke that had poured from his hands mere seconds ago began to turn a hazy blue color. A loud chorus of sizzling was emitted from the fumes, and as it wafted out in its predetermined radius, sparks began to form throughout that area. All at once, the sparks crackled and popped as they rapidly grew in size, lighting up the entire clearing in a sea of light.
xxxxxx"What the hell, Heath? You trying to kill us? I was seriously just about to let you take a break, you idiot!" As soon as the brightness had dissipated, Boris smacked Heath on the back of the head, leaving a stinging mark that the boy immediately began to tenderly rub at.
xxxxxx"No, that was an accident, I swear! Who even came up with those motions as a cast?! You know how many people do that unconsciously?!" Almost shaking out of rage, Heath tried to defend himself by blaming the spell-maker, but knew that he'd failed by the unamused expression that had relaxed Boris's face. "Whatever. We weren't even hurt-- I'm gonna take a breather." Pushing himself to his feet, Heath casually brushed off his clothes, turning away from Boris and pausing for a moment before murmuring, "...And don't follow me." The boy headed back into the clearing that he'd nearly destroyed—the empty field just beyond the treeline was his destination—while thinking about how stupid motion spells were. The one he'd casted was harmless to the environment, but could've seriously injured anyone that had entered the activation range. It could've been even worse if, after clasping his hands, he'd lifted his pointer fingers and pressed them together. Such a simple additional movement would have turned the already dangerous spell into a raining hell of blazing sparks and lightning, which lasted longer, had a larger range, definitely effected the environment, and hurt a lot worse than the original spell's beams of light (which left lengthy third-degree burns on any exposed skin). Why did magic have to be so... Inconvenient?
xxxxxxWhatever—that wasn't something he wanted to get into right now, and there was something more interesting to think about: up ahead, something was lying in the field, its body peeking over the overgrown grass. As Heath timidly shuffled closer, he found that the grass had been flattened in the being's wake, as if it had crash landed and slid to a stop. Its path was so wide that you'd think it must be a beast, but as Heath crept ever so slightly closer and closer, the path got smaller and smaller. What, did the thing shrink or something? It wasn't impossible, being that there were magical creatures in the world, as well as magical people that could cast spells to make something into a magical creature. Regardless of Heath's guesses, or the prying knowledge that there were many predators around the village—in which case this could be one of them, hiding in the grass and waiting for the perfect time to pounce—curiosity got the best of him. In one swift movement, Heath lunged forward and swept aside the weeds that blocked his view, revealing a crumpled, naked figure that lay before him on the ground. Tattered wouldn't begin to describe the state it was in! Or, maybe not "it", for "it" appeared male. The shock of seeing this naked boy didn't hit him until he had been standing there, stock still, for a few moments.
xxxxxx"Uhhh--ah! No, shoot, ew! Why, I mean, where are your clothes?" Heath stammered over his words as he swallowed forcefully, trying desperately to wet his dry tongue. What should he do? Obviously not just stand here, but... God, there were so many questions swirling around his mind right now! Without a second thought, Heath mumbled a few incoherent words, and a moment later a decent-sized cloth was weaved out of thin air. As quick as it had been made, it was dropped onto the boy's body, covering up most of his torso and going down to his knees. How embarrassing! Heath could feel the blood creeping up to his cheeks, staining them a light pink. At least he hadn't had to give up his own shirt; being a mage had its perks. Sometimes.
xxxxxx"Hey. You." The boy was out like a light, and if something bad had happened to him, maybe he wouldn't wake up for a little while? Or, at least, long enough to get him to the village while he was asleep? As if any sound would disturb the boy, Heath held his breath as he kneeled down and gingerly sat the boy upright, tying the cloth into a makeshift skirt. That would have to do for now. "Up we go, buddy," Heath whispered, counting to three before he slid his hands under the boy's knees and back, hooking one hand under his shoulder to keep him secure. "There. Shall we?" With that, he carefully picked his way through the field, bracing himself for the boy to suddenly wake up and punch him in the face. What else was he supposed to expect? A hug? And what was up with this guy, anyways? He was oddly warm—almost too warm. The sun was out, but it was slightly overcast, so it wasn't like he could've bathed in the light for too long. But, whatever; Heath's main focus right now was to get him to the village without breathing on him too heavily or waking him up. Seemed easy enough.

[korvid]

////

////So of course, Lukcas woke up. Panicking out of his mind too, which didn't help. When he’d landed he’d known he was injured sure, but he hadn’t felt like it. The cuts and bruises which littered his arms and legs had been afterthoughts to those of ‘what the actual hell just happened‘ and ‘holy crap I just flew’. Chalk it up to adrenaline or shock or whatever, he’d felt fine before, almost great actually. Now his body was practically screaming from the amount of crazy it had been put through in the last few hours and as soon as Lukcas realized this his urge to sleep all but vanished under a wave of intense burning that seemed to cover the entirety of his body. On top of that came a splitting headache and probable concussion, making him recall vaguely the feeling of skittering across the hillside as half a giant lizard. He’d really need to work on that landing.

////Wide awake but hazy as could be it took him a solid sixty seconds to realize he was moving and another thirty to understand that he was being carried. Following the initial shock of that Lukcas managed to open his drowsy eyes and blink up at whomever it was that had the pleasure of carrying his damaged limp body. He’d half expected some royal knight who’d been sent by his father to track him down and was far more surprised to realize it was not only a complete stranger but one who looked not that much older than himself. Lukcas’s immediate, and brilliant, reaction was to shove himself out of said person's arms, ignoring their grunt of surprise, and fall onto the ground with a painful ‘thump’. A terrible decision when coupled with horrible nausea and the mortifying realization that he was one hundred percent naked under the cloth that was loosely clung to his body. Lukcas attempted and failed, to regain his footing from there, pathetically crumbling back onto the ground almost grateful for the cool feeling of grass on his back. Despite his sorry state Lukcas still found fit to glare up at his ‘rescuer’ and mumble out, “jeez you’re like ten feet tall or something is that even allowed?”

[quiche cat!]

xxxxxxAt first, Heath took no notice to the boy as he stirred in his arms, tightening his grip ever so slightly in case he freaked out and tried to get away. If anything, Heath was taking precautionary measures for himself because he'd probably be surprised, as well, and fall over and crush the boy... Which would hurt both of them, so it wasn't in his best interest to drop the basically naked, injured boy. Speaking of the boy, his eyes were starting to open, but that went unnoticed by Heath. He was still trying to pick through the field and avoid the particularly overgrown spots; although he was tall, this grass, in some areas, was even taller. It probably wasn't the best idea to wander into a hazardous patch like that and accidentally drop his luggage-- uh, well, the boy. Speaking of the devil, Heath felt the boy suddenly begin to struggle, shoving him quite aggressively. Is this how someone was supposed to treat their savior? It took him a moment to realize that the boy had literally shoved himself out of his arms. Fantastic. Did he enjoy the pain, or was he just downright stupid?
xxxxxxHeath made the poor decision to glance down at the confused boy right as he glared at him, causing himself to immediately tense up. What was up with this guy? After the boy's remark, Heath's features seemed to visibly darken. He had just begun to bend over and help the poor, injured soul, but as soon as he opened his mouth to speak, Heath snapped upright, his posture rigid. So much for helping this weakling—he didn't feel like being nice any more. "Jeez, you're like two feet tall or something, is that even allowed?" Mocking the boy, Heath shot a menacing glare at him, his tone cold and unforgiving. "Good luck." Of course, he didn't really mean it; he could care less if the boy sat there for the rest of his life. With a sharp click of his tongue, Heath stepped over the boy, pretending as if he wasn't there, and began to head back towards the village.
xxxxxxHow did that saying go? "Don't bite the hand that feeds you"?
xxxxxxIt definitely applied to this situation. The boy had just chomped down on Heath's hand, figuratively speaking, and he wasn't going to put up with this child for doing that. Hasta la vista, pobrecito.

[korvid]

////

////Lukcas knew he’d messed up the moment the taller boy’s expression shifted toward one of anger. That was a look he’d seen time and time again on the faces of everyone and anyone who’d ever had the pleasure of meeting him. It was such a familiar look in fact that Lukcas had come to find it oddly satisfying. Perhaps this particular situation though was the wrong time to interpret hatred as a positive. The sane, very scared and very stressed portion of his brain immediately calling him out for his stupidity, while the rest of him was still processing the sheer absurdity of the situation. When the boy quickly backpedaled his attempts at helping and insulted Lukcas back, the prince in his disheveled state found himself far more annoyed by the remark than he typically should have been, a comeback already on the tip of his tongue despite his exhaustion.

////Then the boy began to walk away and any and all semblance of his composure broke, giving way to the full realization of just how screwed he truly was right now. Was this person actually going to leave him here when Lukcas was very clearly in peril? What kind of petty soul would abandon someone who was injured just because they mocked their height? Well, Lukcas himself probably would but that was beside the point.

////“Woah woah woah, wait!” Lukcas called after him, forcing himself off the ground ever so slightly to watch as the taller boy got further and further away and cursing under his breath when a round of shooting pain made its way up his arms from the effort. “You can’t just leave me here to die that's-” What, treason? Grossly ironic? With a defeated groan Lukcas fell back into the grass, “rude,” he grumbled.

[quiche cat!]

xxxxxxThe farther Heath walked, the more he thought about the injured boy. Was he actually going to survive on his own? If Heath just left him there to die, could he be accused of murder? As unfair as it seemed, Heath knew that he had to go back, no matter how much he opposed doing so. He could be devilish when confronted, but he was anything but a murderer and, in the future, didn't want to feel the constant weight of having killed a somewhat innocent boy. Having ignored the boy's ignorant comment, Heath slowed to a stop, allowing a deep breath to travel into and out of his lungs before spinning on his heels and briskly walking back towards the boy. He'd better be thankful for this; Heath wasn't doing this because he felt bad, he just didn't want a guilty conscience for the rest of his life. After all, he already felt bad for almost killing Boris multiple times just in the past week, and he didn't feel like adding onto that.
xxxxxxWithout a word, Heath resumed his kneeling position next to the boy who lay defeated in the grass, flipping through his mental book of spells. It took him a few moments, but he finally remembered a healing spell. That should do the trick! Then, once healed, the boy could get out of his sight. Closing his eyes so he could concentrate, Heath murmured a few verses of the spell, only opening his eyes once he'd completed casting it. Per usual, a soft, green glow was beginning to envelope the body that the spell was focused on: in this case, the injured boy. In just a few moments, his wounds would visibly start to heal--!
xxxxxxBut why, oh why, would anything ever go his way? Heath's heart sunk all the way down to his feet as he watched the spell unfold before him—the wrong spell, to be exact. Thin blades of grass wove up from the ground surrounding the boy, glimmering with the same green glow that had appeared just seconds ago around his body. Then, as if someone had flicked a switch, flowers of all varieties and colors began to bloom. Oh, damn. How was he supposed to explain himself? 'Yeah, this is my healing spell. It heals the mind and spirit.' Where was Boris when you needed him?!
xxxxxxAll Heath could do was sit there in complete silence for a minute while he collected his thoughts, staring at a rose that had popped up between his knees. He debated on whether he should tell the truth or just pretend like nothing had happened.
xxxxxxThe latter seemed like a better option.
xxxxxx"I'll take you to a mage. He'll heal you, and then you'll leave. Got it?" Without waiting for for an answer, Heath scooped up the boy's body once more and continued his hike towards the village. Maybe, just maybe, he'd get lucky and Boris would still be waiting for him near the clearing... And he wasn't, so Heath had to carry this small, wounded boy—bridal style—through the outskirts of the village and to Boris's cottage. On the way, almost every single passerby gave them weird looks, and Heath had to internally control his rage. Was it bad to dropkick a child?
xxxxxxUpon inviting himself into his mentor's house, Heath dropped the boy onto the nearest piece of furniture; thankfully for him, it happened to be a couch, though it was old and rickety. "You could've at least knocked." Boris sighed as he leaned on the doorframe of a room that branched off of the one that they were currently in. His eyes landed on the stranger that lay on his couch, causing his left brow to arch in question. "Let me guess: you already tried to heal him?" No response. Heath had fallen back into a chair, closed his eyes, and ignored the older man. For the second time in about two minutes, Boris sighed, though by now he was a professional sigher. Heath did plenty of sigh-worthy things, so this wasn't anything new. The mage gave up on Heath, instead turning to the injured boy and nodding at him. "You. What happened?"

[korvid]

////

////Almost resigned to his untimely demise, Lukcas was practically beside himself with relief when the exceedingly tall yet helpful stranger returned to his side. In a moment of anxious solace, he mumbled something akin to “wow did your heart grow back?” Though it came out far too shaky to properly discern as a workable sentence and the taller boy was definitely ignoring him now anyway. Speaking of which, the boy had paused beside him and was doing, something, but between his roaring headache and the wave of drowsiness flooding back over him, Lukcas wasn’t at all sure what was going on. His eyes drifted closed for a moment or two, soothing the pain in his head if only by the slightest. Something was said to him at one point which he managed to register only part of, the words “mage” and “heal” specifically- always great things to hear, before he was once more easily lifted off the ground like a pitiful child.

////Too tired to be insulted his found himself drifting in and out of consciousness for much the trip, only forcing himself awake when the sound of a door opening and shutting was able to permeate his semi-conscious mind. Before he knew it he was staring up at an old wooden ceiling, his back against what was probably the most uncomfortable couch, or chair or whatever, he’d ever laid on. Opening his mouth to speak the words died on his tongue as he listened to the exchange happening between the stranger who’d begrudgingly saved him and another stranger who he assumed was the “mage” the boy had referred to earlier. Lukcas didn’t know much about mages but he’d definitely expected someone older, someone who looked like they'd been studying magic so long they were barely alive kind of older. The new stranger assumed the one who’d saved him had attempted to heal him but from what Lukcas could remember nothing of the sort had happened, and he definitely didn’t feel any better. Was the tall boy a mage as well? Lukcas was really out of his element here huh. Then the man turned to him and asked what was probably the worst question he could have possibly posed. How does one even answer that kind of question when the truth was so unnecessarily wild and filled with things he couldn’t possibly tell this person. Where would Lukcas even start? He couldn’t tell the truth that was for sure. Telling anyone he was a prince was a no-go, of course, then there was the whole ‘turned into a dragon’ thing that he was still trying to wrap his own mind around, top that off with what was essentially faking his death through arson. With his brain all jumbled and pained Lukcas just did what he does best, opened his mouth and let whatever words come out that he could think of off the top of his head.

////“Well,” he began, immediately pausing for a solid fifteen seconds before continuing, “I fell.” Another pause, which he hoped came across as brain damage and not obvious lying. “And I think I hit my head at some point. But other than that I’m not entirely sure how and or why I ended up naked in a field.” Feigning amnesia seemed like a solid move here and it wasn’t as if he was completely lying as he had indeed blacked out at one point. Then additionally because it was bugging him like crazy, “but before you magic my wounds away or whatever it is you’re going to do, can I borrow some clothes?”