Drakke looked up at him.

"You go first." Roenan said.

"Fine, it's something you keep hearing anyway,” Drakke began, as he subconsciously picked up both cards to fiddle with them. “So, really take what I'm about to say in, okay?"

Roenan sat back and settled his focus on Drakke. There was something suddenly vulnerable about their exchange, that made him want to glance away, but he refused to. He could see Drakke deeply searching into his gaze, and it made him feel exposed.

"Those eyes are something else.”

"Focus." Roenan said, ignoring a sudden butterfly in his chest.

Drakke set the cards down and leaned forward. “Roenan, it's vital that you place trust in me, even if there are times that I'll be cryptic, unanswering, or unclear." Drakke said. "I think that will be our key to working together. And that is the only favor I want from you."

Roenan was guarded. He couldn’t understand how he was supposed to trust someone that had already fooled him for weeks and was now admitting they wouldn’t always be transparent. Especially with the situation he was in. He blinked away, though he could still feel Drakke staring at him intently.

"I can try, but only as long as I can tell you’re holding your end of the bargain. I've already had to beg some of these answers out of you...” Roenan gestured to the cards. He look at Drakke, “So no more lying, no more weird accents, or fake personas..."

"Listen," Drakke placed the cards back down and shifted forward in his seat. He met Roenan's eyes. "You're seeing me now."

Roenan searched his face for a lie, but felt himself relax. He exhaled slowly and leaned back. 

"I need you to promise me, then, that you'll get me back to Jaeda. I just…” Roenan's hand drifted over his abdomen to hover lightly above the bandages, “I just want to go home." 

"I promise," Drakke said without hesitation.

Roenan gulped loudly and nodded. 

"Okay... we'll try this dynamic out, then. I'll work on building trust with you and you work on what you can to get me out of here. Just let me know what you need-"

"Roenan," Drakke abruptly cut in. "What country were you born in?"

Roenan froze on the spot. "...What?"

Drakke's eyebrows furrowed as he thought hard about something. He glanced down, lips parting.

”I glimpsed your profile."

Roenan stayed unmoving for a long moment before he finally spoke, "My... profile?"

Drakke fidgeted with the cuff of his dress shirt, avoiding Roenan's gaze. "After getting to know you a bit at the hospital, I was curious about you. Why you were here, your history - you know, things of that nature. I didn’t mean to pry, but seeing your name on the list made me...”

"Go on," Roenan urged, when Drakke paused for too long.

“Something happened… during your birth,” Drakke said, his brow furrowed, voice low. There was a weight in the way he said it, as if unsure how to deliver the blow.

“And it’s being pieced together—slowly. But the documents that have surfaced…” Drakke’s voice thinned, and he met Roenan’s eyes with quiet urgency.

“They point to one thing, Roenan. That you were born in Vernajja.”

Roenan felt the color drain from his face and his posture crumpled. He pressed back into his chair.

Silence stretched as he comprehended this information.

“That doesn’t even make sense,” Roenan finally whispered, his voice shaky. His eyes flitted back and forth like he was trying to chase down the truth in his own mind. “I grew up in Jaeda. I’m not lying to you—it’s all I’ve ever known.”

Drakke’s throat bobbed as he swallowed. He shifted forward, voice even quieter now.

“I know.” He shook his head slightly. “But I combed through the files, Roenan. Over and over. And unless I’m missing something critical, everything I found points to the fact, that under international law, you’re still legally considered to be..."

He hesitated, just long enough for Roenan to realize what was coming.

Vernajjian. 

“Stop.” Roenan cut in, before he could say it.

He felt wave of disorientation pass over him and he reached out to grip the table. He hardly heard his own voice when he muttered, "You... you must be missing a major piece of information. I had all my documents. I never had issues in Jaeda."

A complicated look took hold of Drakke's features. "How can you be so sure that the papers you carried, weren't fraudulent?"

"How could you be sure the files you were digging in weren't either?" Roenan shook his head lightly, beginning to deny it even as Drakke continued. 

"These are legitimate, formal documents that we have on file. They date back to when you were born, stamped with all the official seals and signatures. There's even confirmation, on each piece, for their authenticity from recent background checks."

"Are you trying to imply that I've been living under a fraudulent identity for my entire life?" Roenan interrupted, a humorless laugh escaping him. Drakke pursed his lips, seemingly at a loss for words, which only fueled Roenan's anger. "Is that what you are suggesting to me right now?" Roenan demanded, rising to his feet.

"Wait, just-hold on a second." Drakke tried calmly, as he stood up too.

"No-you're..." Roenan's eyes looked him up and down, the brims of them reddening in his distress. "You're wrong. And the documents you have are wrong. You're definitely missing something!" He turned sharply, heading for the door.

"Roenan!" Drakke called as he rushed after him, catching his arm. Roenan tried to pull away, but Drakke held firm, catching his other arm and pinning him gently against the wall.

Roenan looked away, squeezing his eyes shut to avoid Drakke’s gaze as tears slipped down his cheeks.

"Take a deep breath," he murmured. "I'll help you figure this out."

Roenan’s voice cracked. "Figure what out? How can I figure anything out when I don't know what it is that I'm trying to understand anymore?!"

He flinched when he felt something touch his face, but he realized Drakke had dabbed one of his tears. 

"For now, you just need to focus on getting through the bootcamps. I'll handle this side of things. So don't stress on it and just leave this part with me. I can do this much for you," He said.

Roenan looked at him, trembling. "I don't get this - why exactly are you helping me?" he asked, "Why did you appear right in front of me when I got here? What are your intentions?"

Drakke offered a soft, small smile, that didn't quite reach his eyes. 

"Maybe I need this. I've done enough shit I that regret; I want to do something right. Like I’ve said before, I don't agree with the way these are here. In a way, I'm being kind of selfish. You can consider this my own form of rebellion." He let his hands drop away from Roenan. "Besides, maybe I just want to thank you for putting up with me these past few weeks."

Roenan slowly began to calm. As Drakke stepped back, he caught his sleeve.

"Sorry," he whispered.

"For what?" Drakke said quietly, as he swiftly turned away, breaking the hold. "We should get going."

Roenan thought that the fleeting expression he saw on his face had looked particularly pained.

They walked back together in silence. Roenan's mind raced, and he noticed Drakke seemed distant, his thoughts elsewhere too. When they reached the door, Drakke snapped back to the present, reaching into his bag for his notepad. He quickly jotted something down, tore out the page, and turned to Roenan. He grabbed his hand and pressed the slip into his palm.

"Memorize this, then flush it," Drakke said. "Right when you get out of boot camp, come find me." He squeezed Roenan's hand before letting go to tuck his things back in his bag. Roenan heart was beating faster as he looked down at the slip. There was a building name, a floor, and a room number written in the that handwriting he had grown so familiar with over the past months.

“And try to get some sleep. I'll be here to get you tomorrow, bright and early."

Roenan nodded and Drakke reached past him to open the door for him. After stepping through, he heard it snick softly behind him. And, when he looked back, he realized Drakke hadn't followed him in.

He quietly made his way toward the corner, but his pace and breathing quickened as his vision adjusted, revealing something amiss. His stomach dropped heavily when he halted to stare at the empty sheets on the bed next to him.

Saive was missing again.