Decian glanced back toward the camp again, just to be sure no one could see him. He couldn’t even see the glow of the fire between the trees.

He winced as his wings pushed through the massive scars on his back, shooting out to the sides. Then he let out a satisfied groan, slumping back against the tree. His wings relaxed, their grey and brown feathers falling loosely onto the branches around the nocten. They twitched every now and then, but other than that, the nocten stayed completely still for a while. He smiled softly to himself after a while and ran a hand along the feathers. It was the longest-kept secret of his race. Even though the other races knew nothing much about the nocten, their retractable wings were the one thing they purposefully endeavoured to keep hidden. The itch to take them out had been tormenting Decian since before he and Brabil had even reached Stelloise. Calling it a relief to feel them relaxed around him would be an understatement. Decian stretched them, flapping them slowly, careful not to hit the branches. They were sore from lack of use, so he spent a few minutes stretching them, moving them about. The tension and stiffness slowly eased away. He shut his eyes, letting his head relax against the trunk of the tree. Either wing was around as long as he was tall, and he could manoeuvre them with precision, thankfully. His hiding spot was too tight, even with years of practice using his wings, he knocked them against branches a couple times.

After he’d stretched them out, Decian wrapped them around himself. They were warm and soft, and he probably could have fallen asleep there if he hadn’t heard Jedd calling his name. He pulled his wings back in immediately and threw his shirt on before leaping out of the tree. The dwarf was a few paces away, staring around the forest, trying to find him. He startled when Decian dropped down to the ground.

“Yes? Is something wrong?” The nocten asked, walking over to him, a hand hovering over the hilt of his sword.

“Oh, um, n-no? We were just… Well, Avaeon suggested that I check yer okay. Ya been gone a while…” Jedd scratched the back of his neck.

“Ah. Well, thank you, but I’m fine. I just wanted to be alone.” Decian said.

Jedd nodded slowly, “It’s just, uh… Avaeon says there’s wolves ‘round ‘ere… Says it’s best we stick tagether…”

“Okay. I won’t be much longer, I just need to do something, then I’ll be back.”

“D’you want some help? I can stick with ya. In case… ya know.” Jedd offered.

“No, thank you. I need to hunt. See if I can find any animals who haven’t fled. I’ll be back soon. Besides, the wolves are probably gone by now…” Decian forced a reassuring smile, and the dwarf nodded.

“O-Oh, okay… See ya soon.” He mumbled before going back to the camp.

No wolves bothered them that night. Or any night, for that matter.

They had estimated that they would arrive to the central lake around the middle of their third day, but by the end of the second day, tensions were so high that Avaeon shook every time either Decian or Isgellian spoke. Of course, the prince had been disgusted when the nocten had returned to camp the previous night empty-handed, after Jedd had said that he had gone to hunt.

“Did you eat it raw?” The Prince had looked like he was going to hurl at the thought.

“What? No? I don’t eat meat.” Decian had frowned.

“Well then what were you hunting? Berries? That’s called foraging.” Isgellian rolled his eyes.

“I was hunting animals. Nocten don’t eat meat, we drink blood.”

Naturally, the Prince had been even less impressed when he heard that. “You what?!” He gasped, “You’d better not touch a drop of mine!” He sneered.

Decian had just fixed him with a deadpan glare. “Trust me, even in my worst nightmares, my subconscious wouldn’t subject myself to drinking your blood.”

They’d been bickering on and off ever since then. It was the moment Decian had decided that it wasn’t just that he thought the Prince was rude. He decided then that he hated him.

Throughout the next day, every time either of them made a comment that the other found distasteful, or snobbish, they would scoff and mutter bitterly about them. This, of course, launched them into an argument. The longer they travelled, the worse the bickering got.

It wasn’t just Decian who was growing sick of the prince. Nor was it only Decian that the prince targeted. Isgellian often found himself correcting Jedd’s grammar, or calling Avaeon out on being a coward when he noticed the satyr jump at something that had startled him. And Avaeon was startled… Often. The only thing he could find against Ridley, however, was poking fun at the man’s appearance.

“I can’t take anything you say seriously with that stupid grin. And—And how did you get that crooked nose, anyway? Did someone tire of your stupid jokes? I know I am.” The Prince had huffed.

“Says the red-headed, freckled elf to the blond, blue-eyed human.” Ridley retorted.

That had been the only time Isgellian attempted to snip at Ridley.

When they set up camp that evening, Decian excused himself again. But Avaeon called after him, “Hey… Be careful of wolves…” The satyr’s voice was soft and timid.

Decian was too frustrated to muster a reassuring smile, having spent the day being assaulted by Isgellian’s bitter remarks. It wasn’t the jabs about his appearance that bothered him, but more the ones about his race, calling him things like barbaric, disgusting, uncivilised. Most recently, the topic of love came up again, and Decian had nearly punched Isgellian when he’d asked, “Didn’t your father teach you morals?”

Instead, he’d replied, “Didn’t yours teach you manners?” He hadn’t expected Isgellian to flinch and shut up after that, but that’s exactly what the prince did. In fact, he’d stayed silent for the past hour or so.

“I can handle wolves.” Decian told Avaeon. He didn’t bother mentioning again that the wolves likely fled south with the other animals. He turned to keep walking away when Isgellian scoffed. “Oh, what now?” Decian groaned, turning to face the Prince.

“You keep talking as if you’re this great, skilled soldier, as if nothing fazes you… As-- As if you're the only soldier here! But you're not! And I bet… I bet I could even beat you in a duel!” Isgellian huffed, tilting his chin up at Decian defiantly.

That was all the invitation that Decian needed. Gods, he’d wanted to punch Isgellian in the face all day. “Prove it.” He growled and drew his sword.

Jedd and Avaeon gasped. “H-Hey! Guys, wait--” Avaeon tried to say, but neither man cared.

Isgellian stood and drew his sword, too. “Gladly.”

“Standard duel rules. Until you beg for mercy.” Decian narrowed his eyes at the elf.

Prince Isgellian scoffed. “Or until I prove you wrong.” He glowered, returning his ferocious gaze.

Ridley only stepped in when Decian took a step toward Isgellian right there. “Woah, hey! Not next to the open fire, you idiots!” Ridley shoved Decian back, earning a growl from the nocten. He flinched back. Decian hadn’t meant to growl at Ridley. He even felt a little bad about it, he was just… On edge. He had never been so ready to put someone in their place. Not even Endric. “Back off a few steps so you don't walk into the fire or hit any of us.” Ridley insisted, though the man with fangs bared frightened him.

Without another word, Decian turned and walked away, followed by Isgellian.

When Isgellian went to pass Ridley, the human put a hand on his arm. “Are you sure you wanna do this?” He asked seriously, too quiet for Decian to hear, “I've never seen a nocten fight, but I've heard plenty…”

“I can hold my own against that brute.” Isgellian scoffed, shaking Ridley’s hand off and going to where Decian was waiting.

Ridley shook his head; but said nothing else as he stood aside with the other two.

Decian held his sword out, waiting for Isgellian to be ready. His eyes scanned the prince, sizing his opponent up. He was tall, and thin, but he knew better than to underestimate someone in a duel. The prince looked unassuming. Soft, even, with womanly curves and thick thighs. However, closer inspection revealed that his slender arms were built of lean muscle. In a matter of seconds, Decian analyzed him, taking his best guess at how Isgellian might fight, given his build. Or at least, how he should, given his build. By the time he was done, the elf had only just raised his sword to meet Decian's.

“Ready?” Decian asked, his eyes finally settling back on Isgellian's face. The elf had his green eyes narrowed at him, but his soft face didn't allow for the ferocity that Decian oozed without even trying.

“To kick your ass, yes.” Isgellian growled. To the side, Ridley snickered, and whispered to Jedd and Avaeon. But the two men with their swords drawn were too focused to notice.

I could disarm him in two seconds flat, Decian thought, noting the way Isgellian held his blade. Too loosely. That's too easy. He thought, smirked, and stepped back, pulling his sword away. He let it hang loosely at his side as he began slowly circling the prince. Isgellian scowled and circled too, keeping his sword up and his stance ready. Surely, the prince noticed Decian’s relaxed gait, as if he were on a stroll. Decian's nonchalance always did one of three things to his opponents. Either it angered them, it worried them, or it made them doubt his skill as a fighter. Knowing as much as he did about Isgellian’s self-important attitude toward him, Decian figured it would be the latter.

“Raise your sword, you're not even trying.” Isgellian rolled his eyes.

“Nah.” Decian shrugged and tossed the sword between his hands distractedly.

“Making this easy for me, are you?” Isgellian smirked, “I'm fine with that.”

Decian didn't respond for a while, until he said a long, dragged out, “Nnnnnnnnnah.”

The prince just rolled his eyes again, before suddenly attacking. Decian sidestepped him easily, and kicked the back of his knee, making him stumble. The prince growled, turning around to face him immediately. Decian sent him a grin that sent chills down the spines of everybody watching. And so, the fight continued.

Isgellian picked up speed as they exchanged blows, and managed to dodge or block most of Decian's attacks. Just as Decian had thought, Isgellian was fast. But he was too stiff, and Decian was faster. “When I win, I want you to admit that you're a barbarian.” Isgellian said during a moment where their swords were locked.

“When I win, I want you to admit you're a snob.” Decian rolled his eyes at the elf, who kicked him away to break the lock, but Decian caught his foot and twisted. Isgellian yelped and spun, but ended up losing his balance and landing on his face in the dirt. His sword fell just out of his reach, and before he could lunge for it, Decian stepped on his back, holding him in place. “Mercy?”

“You wish.” Isgellian huffed. His foot found Decian's leg, knocking him off balance. The prince slipped away, grabbing his sword before he regained his feet.

Slippery… Decian remarked as he and Isgellian faced off once again. Isgellian was the first to attack, but Decian blocked it, sending the prince’s sword flying. Decian smirked and stepped forward, blocking Isgellian’s path to his weapon. “Mercy?”

“I will never ask you for mercy!” Isgellian growled, trying to dart around Decian to get to the sword, but the nocten blocked him.

“Very well.” Decian said. When Isgellian tried again to dash past him, he slashed his sword into the elf’s arm, carving a deep gash. Isgellian cried out in pain and took a stumbling step backward. The others shouted in protest, rushing forward.

The prince's hand went to his arm as he glared over at Decian furiously. The blood seeped out fast, immediately covering his hand, and soaking the sleeve of his shirt. The nocten raised an eyebrow at him, challenging him, but before he could ask the prince if he wanted mercy again, Jedd had grabbed Decian, shouting, “What in tha gods’ names is wrong with you?!?”

It was then that Isgellian growled, and lunged for Decian, screaming bloody murder, but Ridley grabbed him around the waist, pulling him back.

“What?” Decian frowned at Jedd, confused. But Jedd didn't answer, just dragged Decian away into the trees, where the nocten couldn't attack the prince again.

“What the fuck was that?!” Jedd shouted at Decian once he’d pulled him away. Decian could hear Isgellian still screaming furiously after him.

“Just let me at him!” The prince bellowed, “Damned coward! Come back he--OW!” He stopped when Ridley grabbed him by the injured arm. Decian didn't hear another peep.

“It was a duel!?” Decian raised his voice back at Jedd, growling as he turned around to pace a few steps. “Why are you all so shocked?!”

“Yeah, a duel! A spar! You don't cut people in a damned spar!” Jedd put his hands on his hips, glaring furiously at the nocten.

Decian went silent, staring hard at the man in front of him. His mouth pressed in a tight line, his nostrils flared. Of course you cut people in spars? Was all he could think. “Where else…” he muttered, but stopped himself. Instead of speaking, he pulled his shirt over his head. “Where I'm from, we cut during spars. We fight to wound. Why should we show each other mercy when the beasts in the wood won't do the same?” He spread his arms. The dwarf’s eyes went wide, staring at the nocten’s chest, criss-crossed with so many scars. Across his chest, running the lengths of his arms… He even had one on his neck, which had always just barely been hidden by the long, scaled neck of his top.

“You got those all from… from the monsters?” Jedd asked quietly.

“I got them from training,” Decian corrected, watching the colour drain from Jedd’s face, “Some of them…” He pointed to the one on the side of his neck, and one that had cut deep across his pecs. “I barely survived.”

“Oh.” Jed mumbled.

“I didn't realize it’s frowned upon, here.” Decian added. “But now that I do… I should go apologize.” He heaved a heavy sigh and put a hand over his face. “I really don't want to apologize to that… detestable man.”

Jedd nodded slowly. “Yeah, that doesn't sound fun, does it… But neither does having someone leave a huge gash in your arm.” Jedd punched Decian's chest and did his best to hide his blush after realizing just how hard the nocten’s abs were. “O-Of course you're going to go apologize!” He scolded.

“I know!” Decian huffed, actually surprised how strong the dwarf was. “I just…” He put his shirt back on, “Maybe it's better I give him a little time to cool off?”

“No. You apologize now. If you do it nicely and he rejects it, I might even let you call him Cow Pie.” Jedd harrumphed, and turned to go back toward the camp.

“I… I don't want to call him Cow Pie?” Decian frowned, following slowly after.