132 | remember; the value of a loaf

Kaden was lost in his dreams—he stood, a mere mirage, in the cold echoes of the castle halls.

In the beginning, he did not trust the teenager who took his hand and saved him. The young Kaden had been all too aware of those nobles who stole children off the streets and dressed them up for their games.

Perhaps it would lead to a better life. A life where his belly would be full and warm clothes could cover his chilled skin. The only price would be his dignity and self, sacrificed to live in comfort.

Kaden did not scorn others for choosing such a path; he scorned the nobles who tricked the oblivious, desperate for warmth without knowing the price of it.

When the young boy, sly and an expert at escaping, was caught stealing gold from the young noble—he tensed, keenly aware.

He was caught and punishment would come.

Would it be a flogging? Death? He thought he was prepared for anything having endured many beatings before.

The teenager instead held a finger to his lips and smiled curiously. It was a tempting smile, charming in the way the beautiful face softened—

—but Kaden saw it.

The teenager's attitude and charms, all lies woven to create his display of kindness.

The teenager smiled, and invited him to the palace, not hiding his identity. He promised that no punishment would come if he followed. However, if the boy chose to run, he would be a thief to the Crown.

Kaden had shuddered under the smiling, cold blue gaze.

It was a threat.

That was why after he was bathed, given clothes and food, Kaden had only stared at everything with a pout and skeptical eyes.

The present Kaden stood in his dreamscape, outside the palace grounds, near the path towards the tightly closed gates. There were guards outside, standing tall and proud.

He watched a little boy, clean but unsuited for the luxuries of the palace, peer around a corner as he crouched by a trimmed bush.

He held a loaf of bread tightly in his hand.

His pink hair fell over his large, watchful eyes and he nibbled the top sparingly as if scared to eat any more.

That was him, in his first week in the palace.

The little Kaden looked left and right and jumped up, darting towards the gates. His cautious gaze swept over the guards and he steered towards the wall.

It was thickly blocked with trees, and he'd reached a spot that could not easily be seen.

He shoved the bread in his mouth, cheeks bulging as he rolled up his clean, white sleeves and grabbed onto a tree. He climbed up it easily, but there was a gap between the tree and the wall.

The small person crouched high in the tree. He frowned, wedging the bread tightly between his teeth, determined to not let it go. It would be his winning meal after escaping.

He wiped his small palms on his pants, pressing his feet into the branch. Underneath, the present Kaden watched with a frown. His heart thudded, and he gritted his teeth.

Right now, he was merely an illusion.

He could not catch that child if he fell. He did not remember what happened clearly. After all, it was lifetimes ago.

The little boy got ready to jump—it was foolish; but here, all he knew was that staying could be worse than death. He had seen it, in the way bright eyes bled into dullness after being taken as noble's pets.

He would rather die ragged on the streets while clinging to his stubborn pride–useless as it was–that dolled up to be a noble's ruined pet.

His saliva soaked the top of the loaf. Kaden knew that the child would spit it out later and save it.

The child was a disgusting little thing, after all.

There came a rustle behind Kaden, just as the boy's feet left the branch. The jump was short—the boy's eyes widened impossibly, horror streaking over his face.

His short hand reached towards the wall, and his fingers grazed the tip—but what could he do? His hands were too small. Too young. Too incapable.

The wall scraped the tips of his fingers, blood skidding off them as he spiraled towards the ground.

He gasped, the bread falling out of his mouth.

A shadow darted across, reaching up to catch the child before rolling into the ground, slamming into the trunk of a tree.

A blonde teenager leaned upside down against the tree, his eyes tightly squeezed shut as his chest heaved. His arms cradled the child preciously as if holding something important.

The little Kaden blinked, his heart hammering out of his chest. His mouth uselessly opened and closed several times, like a fish.

The real Kaden stood nearby, staring quietly at the scene. His fists curled at the side of his body.

There was Reed, slowly cracking his beautiful blue gaze as he exhaled. He groaned in pain, slowly rolling onto his side. His eyes scanned Kaden's small body with a deep frown.

Then he sighed, showing an expression unsuited for a teenager. "Do you want to leave that badly?"

Kaden pressed his tongue into his cheek, deep in thought. He really wanted to leave—but this kind teenager just saved him from being hurt!

And there was something mixed in that cold blue colour. The little Kaden thought it was a lonely colour.

Then he remembered something and suddenly turned, looking around the ground.

Reed frowned at the child's movements who started to scamper around, searching for something. He stood, wincing at a sharp pain in his body, but ignored it.

"What are you looking for?"

"My bread!" exclaimed the child desperately.

"...if it's just bread, I can give you another. It's easy."

"No!"

Reed frowned, frustrated and confused. "It's replaceable. Don't be stubborn. Everything is," he paused, lowering his eyelashes. "Replaceable."

The little Kaden, a stubborn fool he was and deeply attached to food, suddenly shouted with a burst of energy. "No! It's not. Even if there's another one... I want this one. It's not the same."

What nonsense was that beautiful teenager saying? He would scour the dumpster for weeks before finding something like an entire loaf, filthy as it might be. Often, there were merely burnt chunks of bread or molded slices.

Reed's eyes flickered, and a glimpse of humanity, something real in those sculpted, doll-like eyes, gleamed over his gaze.

"You're silly," he said but rolled up his sleeve and crouched down to search.

Kaden had stared at him with a pout, and then confusion, watching the beautiful teenager get on his knees, covered in dirt to search for a piece of bread. It was a strange sight, but his stomach fluttered and he sniffed, frowning.

It was much later, when darkness fell over the palace grounds, that Kaden triumphantly yanked a filthy, large loaf from under one of the bushes.

Reed stared at it uncertainly, pursing his lips. "I think... perhaps, you shouldn't eat that."

"I want it! I found it!" Kaden raised it high into the air as if holding up a treasure, losing all his diligence that had tensed his body throughout the days.

After all, the beautiful teenager now covered in dirt from head to toe did not feel as frightening.

Reed rested a hand on his hips, still frowning.

Kaden peered at the loaf, and decided although he could eat it—a little bit of dirt never killed him—it didn't really suit a noble like the blonde teenager before him.

He cracked the loaf in half, digging out a chunk of fluffy and white bread. He hopped over and shoved it into Reed's mouth.

The Crown Prince's eyes went wide as he choked, forced to swallow the chunk of bread. A touch of disgust creased his eyebrows, but when he lowered his eyes to the happy, dirty little face, his expression faltered.

"See?" Kaden had said proudly, a smile appearing on his lips. "It's good, right? It's not a waste. It's still good."

The Crown Prince trembled, his voice seizing. There he stood, always perfect and groomed, a beautiful little doll that excelled in everything, without a blight or flaw.

To him, that was what it meant to live.

Reed stared at the little boy who hummed, patted his growling stomach, and dug out another chunk of bread from inside the imperfect loaf.

His cheeks bulged, but his expression was happy.

Once the boy was finished eating, leaving the shell of the loaf—because really, he felt a little embarrassed eating it in front of a noble—he peeked up.

Like a startled animal, he tensed upon seeing the icy blue gaze fixated on him.

Then, the pale lips parted and a laugh slipped out; a mere breath of amusement, but Kaden's ears picked it up keenly.

Reed crouched down in front of Kaden, onto the muddy ground. His eyes curved into delicate crescents. "What do you say about staying with me, Kaden?"

Kaden looked away, frowning. "No."

"Can you tell me why?"

"Because I can't trust you. Even if you give me all the bread in the world—" His stomach grumbled at the thought. "I can't trust you."

"Then what if I promise you? That regardless of what others demand of me, I will always be by your side." Reed smiled, and the little boy felt compelled to agree. "And should I fail you, then my life will be forfeit."

"Forfeit?"

"Yours."

"Hm..." Kaden broke away from the illusion and furrowed his eyebrows. "I don't want it. I don't want your life, that's yours."

Reed stiffened and then relaxed his expression, bending his head down and laughing. Kaden tilted his head in confusion, but he smiled anyway. It was a nice sound.

"Very well then, Kaden. How about this? Be my little guest for now, and if you choose to stay, then you may. If you choose to leave, I will return you without pause."

The words spun around Kaden's small head, and he thought deeply.

"Plus, I can give you lots and lots of food," added Reed, and when he saw the twinkle in the boy's eyes, he laughed again. Kaden thought that the prince must really like laughing.

That day, one hungry child and one lonely teenager found each other.

Neither had known what a misfortune it would become.

From a distance, the real Kaden watched the happy scene quietly. He'd ignored most of his memories and the fleeting moments of joy.

His chest ached. Back then, he'd thought he found salvation in Reed's soft laughter.

Sometimes, he still longed for it.

In the distance, he felt a force shaking his body lightly and he knew it was time to wake up. His gaze fell onto the memory, and he slowly turned away from it.

Slowly, Kaden's eyes cracked open to reveal the worried faces of Holly and Niklas. He blinked. He reached out with a groggy arm and shoved them away. "You're—" His voice was hoarse, and he frowned. "Too close."

"He's awake! The sleeping beauty has awoken!" cheered Niklas, jumping back in case Kaden slapped him.

Holly grinned. "Holy Watchers, Kaden, you were bleeding and pathetic looking—we really thought you were dead!"

Kaden ignored the 'pathetic' comment, moving his body with a grimace. His body was leaning against a warm weight, and when he moved, a pair of arms snaked around his waist firmly.

A low voice spoke beside his ear. "Stay still. You're injured."

Kaden tilted his head back, fully leaning his weight onto the dragon with a faint smile. "Noah," he breathed.

Noah's eyes lowered gloomily, displeasure written all over his face. "You were reckless."

"How long has it been?"

Kaden blinked, lazily looking around the room without caring for Niklas and Holly's scandalous expressions as they peeked at the blatantly obvious pair.

There was an open window in the room, cracked open to allow a breeze to enter.

"We're in the Academy—they have the best treatments for the Blessed," said a gentle voice from the side. "It's been a week Kaden. We've all been very worried."

Kaden's gaze flickered sideways and he smiled. "Nicola. I'm glad you're safe."

"You as well."

Then, her expression turned stern and she crossed her arms, frowning deeply. Kaden straightened his back.

"However, your blessing could've cost you your life, not to mention all your wounds. Your display of heroism was dangerous, do you understand?"

Kaden nodded quickly. "Yes, I'm sorry."

Her expression softened. "As long as you know. Please don't endanger yourself again like that."

After Niklas and Nicola took turns scolding him, with the occasional remark on his pathetic state and how even his 'pathetic-ness' was charming from Holly, it was Noah's turn.

The others left the room, although Holly had been a little reluctant, wanting to see a good show.

They were seated on a bed, Noah draping his body over the shape of Kaden's back, burying his head in the crook of his neck, fitting like a piece of a puzzle that was made to be.

His arms held onto Kaden tightly, wings curled around as if encasing him in a prison.

Kaden sighed helplessly, unable to retreat from the trappings of Noah's fierce hold. "I'm sorry, Noah."

"You were reckless," muttered the dragon quietly once more, bitterness and resentment dripping from every syllable. "You almost died Kaden. If not from the overuse of your blessing, it would've been from your wounds—did you try to defend yourself at all?"

"I'm fine, Noah."

"But you almost weren't. Understand that, fool."

Kaden sucked in a breath and laughed softly, earning a tight squeeze of punishment from the dragon. He patted Noah's arm lightly. "I really am sorry."

Noah exhaled, wanting to consume Kaden's entire being.

To lock away the man, and hold him dear, to ruin him, to treasure him, all these racing thoughts hammered against the concaves of his mind violently.

Noah remained there, glued to Kaden's figure for hours. What would he do and where would he be if he allowed this person to slip through his fingers?

How had he lived in the past?

He didn't remember.

After leaning quietly, their breaths intertwining to make a synchronization of two, Kaden spoke.

"What happened, Bellamy? Was Reed's body found?"

The dragon shook his head. "It wasn't. There were no traces. When I woke, I should've been able to sense all the things within my territory—but he wasn't there. Alive or dead."

"Then do you think—"

"I don't know, Chauvet. But I believe it's best not to. Believe that Reed Chauvet is dead—and you are free."

The word sat on the tip of Kaden's tongue, a foreign temptation, a single syllable that had seduced him since his youth. To escape the slums, he found Reed. To escape Reed, he found Noah.

Was this freedom?

Or, the faint, doubting whisper in his mind taunted, was this another prison of his own making?

He leaned back further, sinking into Noah's body. He felt the heat of Noah's breath, the pulse of his beating heart, the lines of his body that proved him to be true.

He listened to all the evidence of home, the scent of weathered pages that always lingered, the comfort of the dragon's existence, no matter what form, no matter what shape.

Kaden, as always, did not know what the future held.

But for the first time, he did not fear it.

"What do you want to do, Chauvet?"

Kaden smiled faintly, soaking in the dream of freedom that he hoped he'd never wake. "I don't know. I've been chasing it, and now that it's here, I don't feel like it's real. This isn't the afterlife, is it Bellamy?"

"Are you implying I've chased you to the afterlife?"

"Wouldn't you?"

"I would."

Kaden laughed at the quick response. He stared at the wall of the room—their room, he realized, back in the Academy days. The familiarity caught him off guard.

Noah recognized his surprise, prying Kaden's hand open and interlacing their fingers with a frown. "We'll stay here temporarily. The state of your body is unstable."

Kaden hummed in response. "You know, I've killed many people before. Over time, your mind dulls, even if you try to cling to the importance of life, it fades. Everything fades."

"If you remember it—it hasn't faded. Your humanity, Chauvet, has never faded."

Kaden smiled. "It would be good if you thought so. But when I brought the blade down—can you believe it? For all people, after I've slaughtered unhesitatingly, I hesitated. I hesitated for the one person who was perhaps most deserving of death."

"You hesitated because he wanted to save you. Because despite everything, he was that salvation you once worshiped."

"The weight of my life can't be compared to all those sacrificed. That is not excuse—I should hate him and yet—"

"It's worth it." Noah lowered his eyes, dark and dangerous. Perhaps, of them all, the one who would most understand Reed was himself.

Was the weight of one life worth more than the hundreds?

For Noah Bellamy, it was.

"At the end, he chose his path, and you chose yours. But you do not need to force yourself to hate him, Chauvet."

It was a bitter thing, the twisted relationship between two boys, mere children at the time, who only wanted family. They were two boys who saw each other as the sun.

But to chase after the sun was a foolish, futile thing.

Reed was wrong. But was Kaden wrong in turn, for being unable to erase those memories, that yearning for a home that was never made to be?

Kaden swept around in his seat, startling the dragon, and curled tightly against the other's warmth.

Noah, without pause, held onto the other tightly. Then, he stiffened with surprise, slowly blinked and lowered his chin. Kaden, his head bent, remained still like a statue.

However, his eyelashes fluttered as a drop of water collected at the end, slowly trailing down his face in silence.

Kaden neither trembled nor made any noise, and the sight distressed Noah. But then, he saw the man's shoulders relax and his eyes droop, decades of fear washing away with every drop that fell.

Freedom.

Kaden was scared to say the word out loud.

But here it was, presented before him without any price. No, it was a severe price that had already been paid.

But in the end, everything—his entire present, was the blessing of one man. Once, his world, his salvation, his sun. A person he could never forgive, nor forget.

And yet,

He quietly closed his eyes, resting his forehead on Noah's shirt. The scars and consequences would never fade, the pains and agony of existence would likely always linger.

'Thank you...'

But this would be a final farewell.

To his saviour whom he'd never really known.

'Night.'