Enchanted By You.

The first light of dawn seeped softly through the window, casting a gentle glow upon the room where Vaelorian lay still, wrapped in the quiet embrace of sleep. Soon, his eyelids fluttered open, his heart fluttered too when he saw the younger boy sleeping peacefully, the gentle rise and fall of his chest still beneath his arm. The sight brought a soft smile to Vaelorian's face. Carefully, he leaned over, planting a gentle, lingering kiss on Riven's forehead—a silent show of affection—before quietly slipping out of bed.

Vaelorian left a sweet note for Riven before heading out for the day. He moved with purpose, driven by a restless need to uncover the truths behind yesterday's events. He went straight to the cell where the culprits were kept. The atmosphere was heavy, oppressive even, but Vaelorian's resolve was unwavering. He questioned them, voice steady and commanding, seeking answers—any clue that might explain why they had taken the children, who they worked for, what dark plans lurked behind their appearance in Lumina. Yet, the the bad guys refused to crack, their lips sealed tighter than forbidden vaults. To say Vaelorian was frustrated would be an understatement, but he knew patience was his ally.

After hours of fruitless interrogation, he finally made a decision: it was time to send word to his father, the Emperor. His fingers brushed the parchment as he penned a message, the words carefully chosen, detailing his discoveries about the recent disappearances and suspicions. Sir Eryndor, was entrusted with delivering this message personally, carrying Vaelorian's voice straight to the heart of the empire.

Meanwhile, Riven's entire appearance was radiating happiness as he went about his day. A goofy smile played on his lips, he was practically skipping around the camp grounds. The world seemed lighter, brighter—because Vaelorian was back, and everything between them was restored. Anya, ever perceptive, was the first to notice the change. Her brow quirked as she watched Riven's radiant glow, and she couldn't resist teasing him.

"Did someone wake up on the right side of the bed today?" she asked with a knowing smirk.

Riven's cheeks flushed as he hurriedly responded, "Oh, yeah! I just… slept well, that's all."

Of course, Anya's eyes twinkled with mischief. She knew there was more beneath his blushing face. Barron, Mira Lune, and Willow, all curious, pressed him further, eager to decipher the secret behind his unusually cheerful mood.

"Oh, come on, Riven," Willow grinned, leaning forward. "You're practically glowing. Spill—what's got you so giddy?"

Riven chuckled nervously, then with a playful shrug, answered, "Just…you know, catching the bad guys yesterday. It made me feel helpful."

But deep down, his heart fluttered—his thoughts drifting to Vaelorian, to the warmth of his smile, his gaze, the way he held him. He missed him terribly, and the urge to see him again soon was almost unbearable.

When lunchtime arrived, Riven's appetite was surprisingly voracious—so much so that he devoured his meal with reckless abandon, as if the very act of eating could somehow reduce his desire to be with Vaelorian. The truth was, he wasn't hungry for food; he was hungry for him. His longing for the older boy was a palpable ache, a yearning that gnawed at his very being. The intensity of his desire was almost crippling, a visceral pang that echoed through every fiber of his body.

And just as he finished eating, he bolted from the table, a mischievous grin stretching across his face. When he burst into the old training room, Vaelorian was waiting, leaning casually against the wall, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Did you miss me that much?" Vaelorian's voice was smug and teasing. Riven's cheeks flamed, and he shot him a playful glare, trying to hide the heat rising within.

"Oh, shut up," Riven muttered, his voice laced with embarrassment.

Vaelorian stepped forward, a gentle smile softening his features. "You don't have to be shy, love. I missed you too," he murmured, his voice a balm that made Riven's heartbeat quicken.

Before he could react, Vaelorian closed the distance, his arms wrapping around Riven's waist with effortless grace. A jolt of electricity shot through Riven's body, a sensation so intense and pure that he gasped, clinging instinctively.

"I've got you," Vaelorian whispered, voice tender yet filled with a quiet strength, as he pulled Riven closer. Their bodies pressed together, the air thick with longing and love.

"Let me see your face," Vaelorian urged softly, tilting Riven's chin up with his finger gently. Their eyes met—deep pools of emotion—before Vaelorian's gaze flicked to the faint blush coloring Riven's cheeks. Smiling, Vaelorian's thumb brushed over Riven's lips, a silent caress that sent shivers down his spine.

Riven's tongue darted out to moisten his lips, and Vaelorian's eyes darkened with desire. With a hesitant, almost trembling motion, Riven rose onto his tiptoes and pressed a delicate kiss to Vaelorian's lips. Just as he was about to pull away, Vaelorian's hand cupped his face, their lips reconnecting—more passionately this time.

"You taste amazing," Vaelorian husked, his voice thick with desire, as his lips brushed against Riven's. "Apricot, pineapple, a hint of alcohol… What did you have for lunch?"

Riven's lips parted slightly, and he bit his lower lip, flustered. "Anya turned our fruits into alcohol," he admitted quietly, a blush blooming again.

Vaelorian's expression darkened at the mention of Anya's name, a flicker of something crossing his face. "You're still talking to her," he murmured, more to himself than to Riven.

Riven hurriedly defended himself, "No! No, we're just friends—nothing more. I swear." His voice was earnest, eyes pleading for understanding.

Vaelorian's response was calm but measured. "Okay," he said quietly, and Riven groaned internally.

"You don't believe me!" Riven protested, frustration bubbling up.

"I do," Vaelorian replied softly, then paused. "I want to believe you," he added, his voice tender and sincere.

Riven stepped closer, gaze searching Vaelorian's. "I'm really sorry about what I did last time. I didn't kiss her again. I swear."

Vaelorian's eyes widened in disbelief. "You didn't?"

Riven shook his head vigorously. "No! I was just upset with you, and I used her… to get back at you. I'm sorry. I won't do it again." His voice was vulnerable, exposing his remorse.

Relief washed over Vaelorian's face. He cupped Riven's cheeks gently, a soft smile curving his lips. "Thank you for telling me the truth," he whispered, before leaning in to kiss him again, sealing their honesty and trust.

When they parted, Riven hesitated. "I think Anya suspects there's something between us."

Vaelorian's smile was knowing. "She's smarter than I thought."

Riven raised an eyebrow. "You don't sound so surprised."

"Not really," Vaelorian admitted, eyes twinkling. "I've been watching her."

Riven's eyes widened in shock. "What? You've been watching her? Why?"

Vaelorian chuckled softly. "It's not really about her. I've been making sure you're okay."

Riven's brow furrowed. "So, you've been watching me?"

He nodded gently, a quiet affirmation.

"Hold on! So… does that mean you knew I was looking for you too?" Riven's voice trembled with disbelief, hope flickering in his eyes.

Vaelorian nodded gently. "Yes. I knew."

Riven's mind spun. "Oh my goodness… I can't believe it! You knew I was searching for you for two whole weeks—and you didn't come back?"

Vaelorian's voice softened, tinged with longing. "I wanted to. I missed you so much I wanted to leave everything behind and come back to you. But I didn't know if you wanted to be with me. I was afraid I wouldn't be able to handle seeing you with her." His words trembled, revealing the depth of his feelings.

Riven's eyes welled with emotion. "I'm sorry. I was an idiot," he whispered sincerely.

Vaelorian's smile warmed his face. He reached out, gently brushing Riven's cheek with his thumb. "It's okay. Everything's good now. Remember? We said to leave the past behind."

He leaned in and pecked Riven softly on the lips. "We're good right?"

Riven nodded, a small smile curling his lips. "Yes. We are."

After a moment, Vaelorian's voice broke the silence.

"Shall we train now?"

Riven's eyes sparkled with excitement. "Definitely! Can I use your swords today?"

Vaelorian's smile grew mischievous. "I don't think you're ready for that yet." He reached for his scabbard, unsheathing his twin swords—one gleaming with icy blue energy, the other burning with fiery red.

"You don't know what I can do," Riven protested stubbornly.

Vaelorian chuckled, amused. "Alright, then. Let's see. Rime and Ember will be the judge of that."

Riven blinked. "Who are Rime and Ember?"

Smirking, Vaelorian held up his swords. "My swords."

Riven blinked, stunned. "You named your swords?

Vaelorian laughed softly. "Don't be ridiculous. They named themselves."

Riven blinked in bewilderment. "What? How is that even possible?"

Vaelorian's smile was serene. "Riven, meet Rime and Ember." He placed the swords in Riven's hands gently, the blades humming softly with energy. "Don't worry—they won't hurt you." Riven's fingers trembled slightly as he felt the strange, alive energy coursing through the blades. His heart pounded with curiosity and awe.

"They like you," Vaelorian said simply, caressing Riven's hands before taking his swords back.

"They like me?" Riven echoed, eyes wide.

Vaelorian nodded. "Yes. They usually don't allow anyone else to touch them."

Riven's brow furrowed. "Wait… why are you talking about your swords like they're alive?"

Vaelorian's gaze was serious. "I think I should explain," he began, "my swords are made from the blood and essence of elders—centuries ago. They were crafted to be the ultimate weapon for the emperor, but something went wrong. They didn't obey as they should have, so they were locked away, forgotten."

Riven listened, captivated. He heard about the elders—they're nothing but legends now but they once held power more than the emperor himself.

"When I was about five," Vaelorian continued, "I accidentally teleported into the armory after touching Eryndor for the first time. That's how I found them. I got hurt and my blood touched them, and a bond was formed. They spoke to me—told me their names, how they were forged, and that they'd been waiting for someone worthy to wield them for hundreds of years."

"Wow," Riven breathed. "That's… incredible." He looked at the glowing blades in Vaelorian's hands, marveling. "I don't understand all of it, but it makes sense somehow."

Vaelorian nodded proudly. "My father was worried about me wielding such powerful swords, but once he saw I could, he understood. Now, only I can use them…and you, apparently, can feel their energy too."

Riven's eyes shone with wonder. "So, what do I do?"

Vaelorian extended his hand. "Come. Let me show you."

Riven watched eagerly as Vaelorian drew his swords again, the blades shimmering with elemental energy.

"Rime is ice, Ember is fire. Together, they balance each other. Feel what they want, and listen." He guided Riven's fingers to trace the runes etched into the blades. "Close your eyes," Vaelorian instructed softly. "Now, feel the shift in their energy. Let them lead you. Trust what you feel."

Vaelorian's voice was a whisper in Riven's mind as the older boy's hand rested lightly on his shoulder. Slowly, Riven opened his mind, tuning into the swords. The energy thrummed beneath his fingertips, alive and eager.

He felt them—each pulse, each whisper of desire. His hands moved gently, guided by instinct. When he opened his eyes, the swords twirled and shone brighter, their glow illuminating the room with a mesmerizing light.

"You're a fast learner." Vaelorian said, eyes shining with pride.

Riven grinned, pressing his body against Vaelorian's, feeling the warmth and strength of him. "Told you I was a genius."

Vaelorian's breath hitched at the boy's boldness. "Riven," he whispered, voice thick with emotion, "what you do to me…"

The words hung in the air, charged with pure desire .

"What? You don't like it when I do that?" Riven teased, eyes sparkling.

Vaelorian simply sheathed his swords and took Riven's hands in his. "Come with me," he whispered, pulling the younger boy along gently.