Missing Someone Sucks.

Two weeks. That's how long Vaelorian had been gone. Two long, agonizing weeks where every moment feels like eternity for Riven. At this point, he was convinced—no, he was certain—that the older boy wasn't coming back.

Had he finally succeeded in driving Vaelorian out of his life and possibly the camp?

Riven has tried everything to reach out to Vaelorian, even telepathy. Sometimes he wondered if Vaelorian was shutting him out on purpose. And honestly, he would understand. He was nothing but an asshole to the older boy.

The night after their fight, Vaelorian didn't return to their room and Riven told himself 'whatever.' What did it matter if the older boy was gone or not? He was so upset back then—so upset that he couldn't even summon the energy to care about anything or anything.

Then days slipped by—one, two, three, four—and with each passing, he started to worry. Someone else had even taken over as the combat instructor since the older boy's absence. Riven had made every attempt to find Vaelorian's whereabouts. He'd even lingered near the training yard and questioned anyone who might have seen him.

Even Commander Voss, who generally had an answer for everything, maintained his stoic silence as he brushed Riven off with curt replies.

"But do you know when he'll be back?" Riven had asked, almost pleading.

"Not my place to discuss the Prince's affairs, Lord Riven." Voss replied, an unyielding wall against Riven's desperation

By the sixth day, the truth was painfully clear: Riven missed Vaelorian—he missed him so fiercely it was almost physical, and he doesn't know how to find him so he could tell him that. The realization was brutal: he knew absolutely nothing about the older boy beyond the fact that he was a prince. Just that. That was all. It made him feel like shit, a selfish bastard. He knew more about his one-night stands back in his past life, than he did about Vaelorian.

He was a really shitty person.

Amidst the chaos of the last two weeks, there were still small moments—like when Mira Lune and he got an A on their history project. A tiny victory that should've felt sweet but didn't. He wanted to tell Vaelorian about it, to share that moment of triumph with him. But he wasn't here. And every time he thought of that, it twisted something painfully deep inside him.

The past two weeks have been nothing but hell for Riven. Everything is boring and he's been losing sleep. He even got a letter from home three days ago asking about his well-being and his experiences so far. He was asked to write back so he did. The letter came with clothes, books and snacks, apparently the real Riven liked snacking while reading old books. Riven couldn't help but wonder what Vaelorian would've said had he been around.

"Earth to Riven?" Anya's voice suddenly sliced through his thoughts, sharp and teasing.

Riven blinked, startled. "Sorry?"

"Don't 'sorry' me. It's your turn to spin the bottle," she said with a sly grin, crossing her arms.

He looked around—Barron, the new friend he'd made, grinning eagerly; Mira Lune, watching with a gentle smile; Anya, all bright and energetic. Slowly, he exhaled, forcing himself back into the moment. The weight of everything pressed down on him, but he managed a small, reluctant smile.

"Yeah, stop spacing out, dude!" Barron patted him on the back, encouraging.

Another girl, red-haired with dimples, who had also joined their small group was staring at him teasingly, she chimed in, "This is when you ask the question…"

Riven hesitated, then finally spoke, voice uncertain but steady. "Truth or dare, Willow?"

"Dare, duh!" she replied, popping her gum.

His mind raced, desperate for something clever, something daring enough to break the tension. Then, impulsively, he blurted, "Uhh…I dare you to lick Mira Lune's lip gloss." The words tumbled out before he could second-guess. Instant reactions erupted—boos, laughter, teasing calls of him being lame for not asking her to do something more dangerous.

"What kind of lame dare is that, dude? You couldn't have asked her to make out with me?" Barron whined, mock-offended.

"Yeah, not gonna happen. Do I have to remind you we're having lunch?" Riven countered, rolling his eyes. "Sticking your tongues down each other's throats could get us in trouble!"

Deep down, he knew he could've challenged Willow to do something more daring. But today, he was just tired—feeling lost in a haze that dulled his creative impulses with each tick of the clock.

Mira Lune and Riven had become close during their collaboration as class partners. Anya was the first friend he made here. Last week she had apologized for acting weird, and now they were talking again. Barron and Willow had joined their little circle a couple of days ago too. For a former lone wolf, Riven was surprisingly adjusting—making friends, sharing laughs, and feeling moments of genuine friendships.

Anya clapped her hands, bright-eyed. "Alright, that's enough! Time for Terravista Studies!" Groans erupted, but she grinned wider. "What? I love learning about Earth and nature."

Riven rolled his eyes. "That's only because you have the gift to control everything related to nature."

She laughed, and for a fleeting moment, he felt a tiny spark of warmth. "Come on, guys. I don't wanna be late," Anya urged, already heading toward their destination.

Reluctantly, the group followed her, trudging toward a semi-hut overlooking a tranquil lake at the edge of the camp. Inside, Lady Isolde Ravenclaw greeted them with her usual bright smile. She launched into the lesson about the earth, healing the environment, and how they could help restore what was broken.

An hour in, she announced that they'd be spending two nights in the woods—a chance to connect with nature, to learn survival skills. The excitement was mixed with anxiety. They packed supplies, prepared to venture beyond the camp's safety.

"Can I have your attention, everyone," Lady Isolde said loudly. "One more thing before we go—Commander Voss has approved extra security. Another instructor will be joining us." She gestured toward the door, and Riven's eyes widened as the figure stepped inside.

It was Vaelorian.

"Thanks for the extra help, your Highness," Lady Isolde said with a respectful bow.

"I'm happy to assist, my lady," Vaelorian replied, his voice smooth, controlled.

Riven's heart clenched. He'd missed hearing that voice—so fucking much! But Vaelorian didn't even look his way. Not even once. His gaze was fixed on Lady Isolde, detached, distant. And Riven, despite every ounce of restraint, couldn't look away.

His mind raced—what had Vaelorian been doing these past two weeks? He looked thinner, tired—was he ill? What has he been up to these past two weeks? Was he doing okay? Riven's heart hammered in his chest, desperate for answers, yet afraid to ask.

As they walked, Riven's friends tried to engage him in conversation, but their words fell flat. They noticed Riven's distraction and exchanged knowing glances. Anya raised an eyebrow, her expression a mixture of concern and curiosity.

"Hey, Riven, you okay?" she asked, but Riven didn't respond, his gaze was still fixed on Vaelorian.

Vaelorian, on the other hand, seemed oblivious to Riven's attention. He walked alongside Lady Isolde Ravenclaw, discussing the logistics of their overnight stay in the woods. Riven's frustration grew as he watched Vaelorian ignore him. He wanted to talk to him, to ask him where he'd been and what he'd been doing. But Vaelorian seemed determined to avoid him.

The trek into the woods was slow, each step heavy with unspoken questions. Vaelorian was the only thing on Riven's mind. When they finally reached the designated spot, the sun was dipping low, casting long shadows over the trees. Lady Isolde nodded in satisfaction, and they began setting up tents—Riven with Barron, the girls together.

He tried reaching out to Vaelorian through Telepathy.

"Vaelorian? Can you hear me?"

Silence.

He tried again and again, louder each time, his inner voice cracking. Still nothing.

When they'd finished setting up their tents, Riven casually strolled around, searching for him, hoping to catch a glimpse of the older boy. But his attempt was cut short when Lady Isolde asked them to sit by the burning fire and listen while she told them tales about their ancestors—long, dull stories that droned on and on. Riven's mind drifted, fixated on Vaelorian's absence.

Riven resorted to ranting in his head when all his attempts had failed, his thoughts a jumbled mix of emotions.

"That's it then, you're just never going to speak to me again, is that it? We haven't seen each other in two weeks, dude! No hi, hello, I miss you or even a fuck you? I know you can hear me, Your Highness!"

The silence that followed was deafening.

Riven's brows were knitted as his mind raced with possibilities. Was Vaelorian really going to pretend he didn't exist? The thought stung like hell. He kept mulling over his thoughts until exhaustion finally claimed him. Sleep overtook him amid the worry and longing, dragging him into darkness.

When he awoke the next morning, chaos reigned. Kids were mummering, panicking, and Lady Isolde was doing her best to keep order. Then Vaelorian appeared—calm, commanding—and addressed the crowd with a voice that cut through the chaos.

"Last night, some campers left their tents and now they're missing. We're organizing search parties. The adults will lead some of you back to camp. The rest will go in search of the missing children." His tone was steady, authoritative.

Riven's hand shot up before he even thought—an instinct fueled by desperation. "I want to go!" he blurted out.

Lady Isolde hesitated, looking at him with concern. "Are you sure, My Lord?"

"Yes, please. Let me come along." Riven replied, voice unwavering. His eyes locked onto Vaelorian's, burning with resolve. If looks could kill, he'd be dead from the stink eye Vaelorian was giving him. But he didn't care.

He was going.

The decision was made. Some of the younger children were led back to the camp while the adults and stronger kids set out into the woods. Riven was assigned to Vaelorian's team, yet the older boy remained silent, distant, and utterly unapproachable. But Riven's determination was unshaken. No matter the silence, no matter the distance, he wouldn't give up.

He was going to get him to talk to him!