Faction (DIA) Gilded Leaves

[Misfits Delight]

The air smelled of crisp leaves and spiced cider, drifting between the colorful tents and carved pumpkins that lined the capital's wide promenades. Citizens of the Diarchy wandered among stalls filled with autumnal crafts, warm foods, and the occasional exotic import from beyond their borders. Laughter mingled with the strains of lute and flute, carrying over the gentle crackle of fires where roasted chestnuts hissed in iron pans.

Lanterns swayed in the early evening breeze, their soft glow reflecting on the polished stones of the streets. Children darted between displays, chasing each other past hay bales and piles of golden gourds. Merchants shouted cheerful greetings and offered samples of cider, baked breads, and candied treats.

The festival was alive with color and sound. Yet, beneath the celebration, there was the subtle hum of Diarchy order: guards stationed at corners, couriers moving briskly with messages, and organizers ensuring that the harvest displays remained tidy. Even amid the revelry, there was a sense that every detail was observed, every movement noted.

For those wandering the grounds, there were opportunities to explore, taste, or watch as the patterns of activity shifted. Music, aromas, and laughter intertwined with the fading warmth of the autumn sun, inviting everyone—natives and travelers alike—to enjoy the season, share in the festival, and perhaps discover something unexpected among the festivities.

(OOC: This is meant mainly for the Misfits, but anybody is welcome to join from the Diarchy.)

 

[Veyran Solis]

Xian Xiao​

It was too loud, too bright, too alive. The kind of place where laughter came easy, and warmth pressed in from every direction. The kind of place that made the cold inside him feel obvious, like a secret everyone could see if they looked too long.

Veyran hated that, he hated how it made him aware of what he'd become, what he'd clung to.

The festival lanterns swayed above like tiny suns, their glow catching the edge of Xian's face as she laughed at something a vendor said. The sound hit him harder than it should have. He didn't even know what the joke was. Didn't matter. The sound alone pulled at something in him that had been sealed shut for years.

He wanted to look away. Wanted to retreat back into the cold familiarity of his hate, where everything made sense, where pain had purpose and anger had weight. But when she looked back at him, eyes bright beneath the drifting light, he couldn't.

He didn't know how to exist without the anger gnawing at the edges. Didn't know how to let himself be free of it without feeling like something vital would vanish with it. But when she touched his arm, guiding him toward another stall, the one with the glass charms, his pulse steadied. He followed without thinking. The world around them blurred into color and warmth and scent. And for a fleeting moment, he realized something awful and beautiful. He didn't want to hate anymore. Not here. Not with her. And that truth felt like standing on the edge of a cliff, staring down at everything he could lose.

He wanted to step back. He wanted to fall. He didn't know which scared him more.

 

[Xian Xiao]

Xian noticed the shift in him before he said a word. She always did—the way his shoulders tightened when joy got too close, the way he scanned the crowd like the light itself might turn on him. She slowed her steps, letting the noise soften around them until it was only the two of them in the glow of drifting lanterns.

Her fingers slid from his arm to his hand—lightly at first, giving him every chance to pull away. When he didn't…she held on.

"Hey." Her voice was low, meant only for him. "You don't have to pretend you're used to this."

She watched his profile as the light flickered over his skin. The pain there wasn't loud—just deep. Lived-in.

"This kind of happiness?" she continued, thumb brushing gently against his knuckles. "It takes time to trust. Especially after everything you've been through."

She angled herself in front of him, blocking out the crowd just enough that the space between them felt safer. Closer. "But you are here," she said. "With me. And that says more than anything you could tell me."

There was no judgment in her eyes—only warmth, steady and unwavering.

"When the galaxy gets too bright…" Her hand squeezed his, grounding, genuine. "You can look at me instead. I'll be right here."

A soft laugh escaped her then—gentle, not teasing this time. "Besides, who says you have to hate this?" Her gaze drifted over him, taking in the way lantern-light gilded the darkness of his hair, the sharp lines of his jaw softened by awe he tried so hard to hide. "You look good in the light, Veyran. Better than you think."

The music swelled somewhere behind them, and the festival's glow reflected in her eyes like a thousand tiny stars.

"If there's a cliff here…" she added, voice quiet and certain, "…you're not standing on the edge alone."

She didn't pull him forward. She simply waited—hand in his—letting him choose what came next.

Veyran Solis

 

[Veyran Solis]

Xian Xiao​

For a long moment, he said nothing. The world moved around them as color, laughter, the rush of sound and scent but all of it felt distant, as though he were standing behind glass, watching a life that wasn't his.

Then her hand found his.

It was such a small thing, that touch. Warm, steady, unafraid. Yet it shattered the quiet armor he'd built around himself more cleanly than any blade. He almost felt the need to retreat, but he didn't. The weight of her palm against his stilled the motion before it began.

He could feel her pulse.

Gods, he could feel her trust.

Veyran's throat tightened. Every reflex he had screamed that this was dangerous, too close, too kind, too real. Hate was safe. Hate never asked him to open his hands. It didn't make promises he couldn't keep. It didn't make his chest hurt the way this moment did.

He turned slightly, eyes fixed on where their hands joined, the lines of her fingers fitting against his like they'd always known the shape of him. "You shouldn't…" he started, but the rest caught somewhere between breath and confession.

You shouldn't care this much. You shouldn't see me like this.

But she just looked at him with that infuriating calm that made the whole galaxy seem quieter.

"I don't know who I am without it." he finally whispered. The words came raw, stripped of all the edge he used to hide behind. "The anger. The hate. It's… it's been everything. It's what's left when everything else burns away."


She didn't flinch. Didn't tell him he was wrong. Just waited. And in that silence, something in him cracked, not in the way of breaking, but in the way of letting light through. He felt it then, the strange weightlessness that came with her presence. It terrified him, because it was freedom. Because it meant there was a part of him that still wanted to live, to laugh, to feel.

Her words replayed in his head. You're not standing on the edge alone.

He drew a slow breath. It trembled. "I don't know if I can stop looking down."

His hand tightened slightly, gentle and certain. Veyran's gaze lifted, first to her hand, then her face, then the lanterns drifting like distant suns above them. The world hadn't changed. But it didn't look quite as cold anymore.

Slowly, and surely, he leaned his forehead against hers, for a brief time, and for now, that felt like enough.

 

[Aknoby]

The young Chiss was walking around the festival looking at things and smelling the food, especially the various savory and sweet things made from corn! Without hesitation, he tasted a little of each and in the end sat down eating a huge corn cob with great relish while looking around at what the others were doing.

 

[Viari Banu]

Viari wandered from stall-to-stall, inspecting the trinkets, knick-knacks and food. The people were friendly and welcoming, answering his questions even when they thought they were strange. A couple of curious eyed children even approached him, wanting to learn a little more about who and what he was. They invited him to play, but Viari refused not because he wasn't interested but because he was afraid. He didn't want to hurt anyone after he created so much chaos already.

He looked down and grimaced at the scant few credits in his possession. Up until now, he had gotten by doing favours, nothing serious or worthy of note. He understood this but these credits meant nothing to him but everything to these people.

Want food. Credits. Want trinkets. Credits. Want a roof over your head? Credits. Why were these small tokens so important, the best description he was given was this. It was something called currency, that was given for doing favours. It represented a promise and people traded these promises and it was that promise that made them valuable. It made sense, he supposed.

Viari looked up, his head on a swivel as he searched for the next little wonder, eventually his eyes caught the glimpse of something golden and the blue faced man eating it. They looked lonely prompting Viari to leap and gently glide over, landing a few feet away.

"Hello friend!" He said waving a wing in greeting. It was a gesture he learned only recently, through observation more than anything else. That other gesture he learned, involving a single finger - or talon in his case - only seemed to piss people off.

"Can I join you?" He asked, cocking his head.

Aknoby

 

[Jayna Ismet-Thio]

Objective: Attend the Harvest Festival
Location: Ravelin, Bastion
Outfit: Fall dress
Tags: Xian Xiao | Veyran Solis | Aknoby | Viari Banu

Bastion's Harvest Festival was another chance for Jayna to get out amongst her peers. Or as close as she was able to find. She honestly felt like the little sister tagging along her elder siblings sometimes. Lady Shadow didn't seem to be able to participate in these events as much as the others, so Jayna always found herself as the youngest. At least the others were nice about Jayna tagging along. That feeling was more than likely just in her head.

As Jayna followed behind Xian and Veyran, her eyes darted from side to side. There were quite a few events on Bastion. More than she remembered at home. Maybe that was just because she was comfortable on Commenor, and she was still trying to find that on Bastion. Veryan's presence was a new thing. Even though Jayna was vehemently against being a Jedi, she had always found the Lightside much more comforting and familiar. She was not afraid of the Darkside, but this was the first time she had tried to be 'friends' with someone who was a Sith. Jayna could feel the struggle in Veyran. She wanted to help, but that made her even more timid around him. She hoped things worked out though for Xian.

Jayna almost walked into Veyran's back as they hesitated. Xian's support was a bright glow in the Force. It made Jayna smile. And it made her believe that Veyran could find the Light inside him if he wished to. As the older "couple" paused, Jayna walked around them and looked around at what there was to do. Her eyes spotted the Chiss, Aknoby, she didn't know him well, but he was a familiar face. A young avian approached Aknoby, Jayna had not seen this being before, not did she recall seeing another of the species. The avian greeted Aknoby friendly enough, making Jayna rush forward. She stood excited at Aknoby's shoulder, but she let the Chiss respond since he was the one who was asked. If Aknoby declined to allow the newcomer to join them however he was sure to get a punch from Jayna, who would extend her own invitation.

 

[Aknoby]

He watched the person approach and smiled slightly with his wing length.

"Sure, have a seat."

He said, making room while biting into the corn cob, looking curiously at the new stranger.

"My name is Aknoby, and you?"

He said without extending his hand because he was busy eating.

He look over his shoulder to the girl,he feel the little threat in the force he lifted a eyebrow curious to her

Viari Banu Jayna Ismet-Thio

 

[Viari Banu]

Gilded Leaves​

The Rishii blinked seeing the girl stalk herself into the boy's shadow, did they know each other? He wondered while listening to the boy introducing himself as Aknoby. What an interesting name he thought to himself while his mind worked to analyse and issue the name to memory, over the past few days he had steadily been constructing a foundation. An understanding and appreciation for the complexity of their language. When he accepted him, Viari chirpped happily bounding over to perch nearby, his eyes remained fixed on the curious pair as he moved.​

​

"I am Viari!" He answered with greater confidence, his focus shifting to the girl. "Hello friend!" He announced with as much enthusiasm as he had Aknoby. She was like many of the other children he had seen, although unlike them she carried a presence with her. The same could be said of Aknoby, although his was more subtle, like a breeze. "Who are you? I am Viari. Are you two friends?" He asked, glancing between the pair.​

​

Aknoby Jayna Ismet-Thio​

Div created by Makeb​

 

[Xian Xiao]

Xian didn't move at first — didn't even breathe — when his forehead touched hers.

Careful.

It was the first instinct that flickered through her mind. Not because she feared him… but because she feared how easily her heart leaned into him. How natural it felt to stand in the glow of lantern-light with the warmth of his skin brushing hers, the scent of salt and spice and night settling around them like a secret.

Her eyes fluttered shut for a beat, letting herself feel the weight of that trust he'd just given her — fragile, tentative, real.

When she opened them, she found him looking, searching, asking without words whether he was allowed to stay in this moment a little longer. Xian's voice came quietly, meant only for him.

"You don't have to look down tonight," she whispered, breath mingling with his. "Not when there's something right in front of you worth holding onto." What even made me say that? Sudden doubt of her own confidence reared its head, but she shoved it away. All of this felt right to the girl, and she didn't doubt what was in front of her.

Her fingers tightened ever so slightly around his hand, grounding him — grounding herself — before she eased back just enough to meet his gaze fully. The lanterns painted him in gold and warm shadow, softening every hardened edge he carried like armor.

"You think hate is the only thing left when everything burns…" She shook her head, a faint, aching smile tugging her lips. "But you're wrong, Veyran. The fact that you're afraid of losing yourself means there's still something in you worth finding."

A burst of noise from the festival — laughter, a cheerful shout — swelled behind them. Somewhere at their backs, Jayna's bright presence flickered in the Force, curious and hopeful. And near her, Aknoby and a feathered newcomer exchanged greetings and questions in the easy rhythm of strangers becoming acquaintances.

Normalcy. Life continued without blood or fear. But all of that was distant noise compared to the man in front of her.

Xian let her free hand lift — slowly, giving him every chance to pull away — and brushed a wind-tossed strand of hair from his brow. Her touch lingered a moment longer than necessary.

"I'm not asking you to change overnight," she murmured. "Just try. Let yourself have this. Let yourself have me, for as long as you choose to."

Her heart beat too fast. Too hopeful. But she didn't hide it.

She leaned her forehead to his again — a gentle promise, not a plea — and breathed:

"You're not falling, Veyran. You're learning how to stand on something other than pain."

And around them, the lanterns swayed — tiny suns against the night — as though the galaxy itself agreed.

Veyran Solis Jayna Ismet-Thio Aknoby Viari Banu

 

[Veyran Solis]

Xian Xiao​

For a moment, he didn’t move. Didn’t dare.

The space between them felt impossibly small, barely a breath, barely a thought. Yet it held the weight of years. Years of surviving through fury, of holding the fire close enough to burn away anything that threatened to make him feel.

And now…this.

Her forehead against his, her voice low and steady, her words striking something deep that he didn’t have a name for.

He should have pulled away. He should have broken the moment, buried it under cynicism and sharp edges, said something cruel or careless just to prove he still could. But his body betrayed him. His chest rising and falling in rhythm with hers, his heart syncing to her calm, the storm inside him quieting until it was only a whisper.

He had never known silence like this. Not since before the war. Not since before the loss.

You’re not falling, Veyran. You’re learning how to stand on something other than pain.

The words dug deep. He could feel them settling into the cracks of his defenses, gentle and unrelenting.

He wanted to tell her that she was wrong, that all he knew how to do was burn. That his hate was what had kept him alive when mercy would have killed him. But when he opened his mouth, no sound came. Only the faint tremor of breath, and the ache of wanting something that didn’t hurt.

He closed his eyes, not to hide but to remember, remember what it was like to trust touch that wasn’t meant to take.

For a long time, he said nothing. The noise of the festival faded, the music and laughter turned soft and far away. There was only her warmth, her heartbeat, her belief fragile and infuriating and real.

Finally, his voice broke the silence, rough and low:

“I don’t know how to do this.”

He opened his eyes then, and in their reflection of lantern-light, something had changed. The fear was still there, yes but beneath it, a flicker of wonder. The kind that hurt in a way that made him want to feel it again.

He didn’t have words for what this was. Didn’t have the courage to name it. But as he looked at her, really looked, he realized he didn’t need to.

Her presence was enough. Her belief was enough.

He let out a shaky breath and whispered, almost to himself. “Then I’ll try.”

And for Veyran Solis, the man who had known nothing but anger and ash, that single word felt like the bravest thing he’d ever said.

“Should we walk?”

 

[Xian Xiao]

Xian's fingers lingered just above his arm, the brief contact enough to anchor them both. "Step by step," she repeated softly, almost to herself as much as to him, letting her words thread through the rhythm of his breathing. The festival moved around them in a blur of color and laughter, but for a moment, it felt like the city had slowed, giving them a corridor of quiet that belonged only to them.

She noticed how his shoulders carried both tension and ease, how the lanterns caught the planes of his skin, making him look…different. Softer. Vulnerable. Dangerous in a new way she couldn't name. Her chest tightened slightly at the thought, and she adjusted her pace, careful to match his, careful to let him feel her presence without pressing.

"Look at that," she murmured, nodding toward a stall where children were laughing over spinning tops, the simple joy of it making the air feel lighter. "No matter how much the city shifts, or how crowded it gets, life finds a way to spin through it all."

Her eyes flicked back to him, catching the faint curve of his jaw in the lantern glow, the dark sweep of hair that sometimes fell across his forehead. He didn't seem to notice, or maybe he didn't care, and that made her heart tighten in a way that was unfamiliar, unwelcome, and irresistible all at once.

"Don't feel like you have to say anything," she added quietly, her voice low so only he could hear it over the murmur of the crowd. "Just…be. That's enough. You're allowed to step into something that doesn't hurt."

They moved together down the narrow street, weaving around festival-goers, the scent of roasted nuts and spiced drinks drifting up from the stalls. She kept her gaze on him, watching him scan the cityscape, how his eyes caught the reflections of lanterns on wet cobblestones, how the weight of his presence felt different here, lighter somehow.

A faint breeze swept through the street, tugging at her hair and his tunic alike. She let herself inhale it, letting the moment settle around them. For the first time, she allowed herself to imagine that they could walk like this, side by side, and it wouldn't be dangerous, it wouldn't be forbidden. That maybe, just maybe, the pull she felt—the ache, the draw, the quiet desire—was something she could allow without fear.

Her hand brushed against his again, the lightest of touches, almost accidental. She didn't pull away, and she didn't need to. In the soft glow of the festival lights, in the rhythm of the city, in the simple act of walking together, she allowed herself to feel it: the first stirrings of care, of fascination, of something more dangerous and beautiful than anything she'd let herself admit.

She glanced up at him, and for a moment, their eyes met in a quiet understanding that didn't require words. He wasn't alone, not here, not in this crowd, not anywhere that mattered. And she…she wanted to be the reason he might stay, the reason he might let something other than hate exist.

And though she didn't speak it aloud, though her voice remained soft and careful, the truth lingered in the space between them: she was starting to fall, and she didn't want to stop.

Veyran Solis

 

[Jayna Ismet-Thio]

Objective: Attend the Harvest Festival
Location: Ravelin, Bastion
Outfit: Fall dress
Tags: Xian Xiao | Veyran Solis | Aknoby | Viari Banu

Jayna noticed a twinge of nervousness from Aknoby in her direction. Was her eagerness to meet the newcomer, and her threat of violence should Aknoby not accept really put out there for everyone to feel? There was a sigh from Jayna as Aknoby did what she expected and invited the feathered being to join. Jayna's father would be disappointed she was not able to remain composed. But the call for Jedi to be in total control of their emotions was part of the problem Jayna had with the Order in the first place.

Jayna put a comforting hand on Aknoby's shoulder as their new associate introduced himself as Viari. That was a cool name Jayna thought to herself. Jayna was bland in her opinion. Even though it was pronounced the same as a grand hero and former Empress. Still Jayna thought Aknoby and Viari were much more interesting.

Without being invited, Jayna sat down with the boys. She smiled at Viari when he addressed her and asked who she was. "It is very good to meet you Viari. I am Jayna," the young girl hummed pleasantly before looking at Aknoby a little nervously. "We're part of a group of friends. Aknoby and I are not close…not yet at least, but I consider him to be a friend. What brings you to Bastion Viari?"

 

[Veyran Solis]

Xian Xiao​

Veyran felt it before he understood it, that subtle shift in the air between them, a rhythm that wasn't his to command. The crowd around them blurred into motion and light, but her presence stayed steady, like a hand pressed against the storm inside him.

He hadn't meant to reach for her, not in any deliberate way. But the moment her fingers brushed his again, something in him leaned forward instinct, need, gravity. The contact was brief, almost nothing, and yet it sent a pulse through his chest that left him disoriented.

He didn't know what to do with peace when it came dressed like this.

Step by step, she'd said. The words stuck to him. They felt too gentle for the kind of man he'd become, but there was truth in them, truth that scraped raw against the parts of him still built for battle.


He'd spent so long defining himself by what he despised, by what he'd lost, that he'd forgotten there was another way to breathe. Hate had a shape, a structure, a pulse that never faltered. It was easy to find comfort in something that demanded nothing but survival. But this, this quiet, human warmth demanded something terrifying.

It asked him to live.

Her laughter, a small thing, soft and unguarded, cut through his thoughts. He followed her gaze to the children spinning tops, their faces painted with joy and sugar and light. He tried to remember the last time he'd looked at something simple and not felt the urge to turn away.

"You really believe it's that easy?" he murmured, half to himself, the words carried away by the hum of music and chatter.

She didn't answer, not with words. Just that faint touch again, the one that told him she was still there.

He looked at her, then really looked and for the first time, the sight didn't burn. The lanterns painted gold into her hair, caught the quiet strength in her posture, the way her presence radiated steadiness instead of pity. It terrified him, how much he wanted to stay close to it. Instinctly, impulsively he found himself leaning in as he kissed the corner of her mouth ever so gently.

He breathed deeply as he pulled back for a moment, the darkness within him swirling around as he fought to maintain control of that fear.

Every step they took felt like defiance against his own history, his own fear. He didn't deserve this, whatever this was. And yet, when she smiled at him, when the corners of her mouth softened with something that wasn't just patience but affection, the thought that he didn't deserve it stopped mattering.

The hate inside him stirred, uneasy, like a creature losing its footing. He could feel it trying to remind him of what he was what he'd done, what he'd lost. But for once, its voice wasn't louder than hers.

You're allowed to step into something that doesn't hurt.

He swallowed hard, eyes drifting skyward to the lanterns floating like small suns across the night. "Maybe." he said quietly, "I don't want to look away."

The confession left him raw, vulnerable. But it was honest. And when her hand stayed in his, steady and sure, he realized something even more frightening.

He didn't want to run anymore.

For the first time in a long time, he wanted to stay.

 

[Xian Xiao]

Xian felt the pulse of his hesitation, the tension in the way his fingers curled slightly around hers, and she let it settle without pressing, without forcing the moment. The festival lights danced across his face, catching the sharp lines and the soft shadows in a way that made her breath catch. She couldn't stop noticing—the sweep of his dark hair in the lantern light, the way the gold kissed the edges, the strength in his shoulders even as he tried to look unguarded.

Her heart picked up, betraying her calm exterior, and she let her thumb brush lightly against his knuckles, almost absentmindedly, a silent tether. She didn't speak at first; there was no need. Her presence, steady and warm, was enough to anchor him, to let him feel without demanding anything in return.

Around them, Ravelin's city streets pulsed with life. Lanterns swung above, glowing like a soft galaxy caught in the night. Children darted between stalls, laughter ricocheting off the buildings, the scent of fried sweetbread and roasted corn drifting through the air. Musicians played a lively tune nearby, their strings and drums blending into a current of sound that could have been overwhelming if not for the quiet pocket she shared with him. The city moved and breathed, yet the space between them felt entirely their own.

Then, soft, almost a whisper above the crowd, she said, "You don't have to run from this. From anything. From me. Not tonight."

Her gaze lingered, unwavering, a quiet challenge threaded with something older, something dangerous in its honesty. I'm here. I'm staying. And I don't plan to let go.

Xian let the words hang, letting him see the truth she hadn't admitted even to herself completely—that this pull toward him, this fierce need to be near, was growing into something she recognized, the ache she had once felt for Caelan, now slowly curling around Veyran. A flash of panic ran through her mind: Not again. Not this fast. Not this early. And yet, another part of her, quiet and insistent, clung to the undeniable pull. Her chest tightened slightly as she leaned just a little closer, careful, careful not to overwhelm, letting the space between them be a conversation of breaths, glances, and the soft beat of trust that hadn't been there before.

"You're allowed to feel it," she murmured, thumb brushing again, "whatever it is. You're allowed to want to stay."

Then he kissed her. Xian froze for the briefest moment, the faint pressure of his lips on hers lingering like a spark caught in the air. Her eyes widened slightly, the lantern light catching the edges of her lashes, and for a heartbeat she didn't breathe, didn't move—just felt.

Warmth spread from the point of contact, low and insistent, threading through her chest and spine. She caught her own breath, a soft intake that sounded almost like a laugh, almost like a sigh, and her hand tightened just a little around his, grounding herself in the reality of him, of them.

Her mind flared with a thousand thoughts—surprise, disbelief, joy, the faint sting of caution—but the strongest was undeniable and straightforward: she wanted that closeness, wanted that trust, wanted him. She leaned in just slightly, closing the distance and returning the kiss lightly, letting her lips meet his with a gentle press that mirrored the tentative trust threading between them.

"You…" she whispered after, voice low and rough with a kind of wonder she hadn't expected to feel, "you're impossible."

Beneath that teasing tone, beneath the humor she offered to cover herself, there was the quiet truth: that little spark, that fleeting contact, had already burrowed into her, and she didn't want it gone. She let herself watch him, the way the lantern light gilded his hair, the way the shadows softened his features, and she realized with a fluttering ache that she wanted to stay in that closeness for longer than she thought she ever could have allowed herself.

And in the quiet corner of her mind, she admitted it: I'm starting to fall for him. Just like I did for Caelan, but this time…it feels different. Terrifying. And I don't want it to stop.

Around them, the city of Ravelin carried on, unaware, alive with the pulse of night and festival. But in that small pocket, Xian let herself feel it fully: the draw toward him, the grounding warmth of his presence, the light touch of their lips, and the fragile, thrilling hint of love curling quietly through her chest.

Veyran Solis

 

[Veyran Solis]

Xian Xiao​

For Veyran, the world didn’t stop…it tilted.

Not outward into chaos, but inward, toward something frighteningly gentle.

He’d kissed her before he’d even realized he was going to. Not out of strategy, not out of desperation, but because something in him had reached a breaking point, something quiet and human that refused to keep cowering behind the edges of pain. And for the space of that single heartbeat, the galaxy didn’t feel like an enemy.

Her breath had hitched against his. Her warmth had met his own.

And it was real.

When she kissed him back, softly, deliberately, it was like the air itself changed. His pulse roared in his ears, drowning out the music, the chatter, the laughter that had always sounded too bright. All he could hear was her, the faint exhale as she broke the kiss, the sound of his own heartbeat trying to catch up with what he’d just done.

Impossible.

He was supposed to be impossible.

He’d built his life out of fire and ruin. He’d carved meaning out of anger because it was the only thing that ever stayed when everything else left. But now her hand still in his, her lips still ghosting the memory of that moment, he felt the fire start to lose its claim on him.

It should have terrified him. It did. But he couldn’t look away.

Xian’s eyes shimmered with something he couldn’t name, affection, maybe. Or belief. Or madness. Her teasing words barely reached him over the rush in his chest, but her voice was enough to tether him to the moment.

"You’re impossible."

He almost laughed, a sound half-wrapped in disbelief. His thumb brushed over the back of her hand, slow, reverent, as if he were afraid the motion itself might break the spell. “That makes two of us.” he said quietly, and his voice didn’t sound like it belonged to the man who’d once sworn he couldn’t feel this way again.

The silence that followed wasn’t awkward. It was… full.

Alive.

He looked at her really looked, and the armor he wore every day, invisible but suffocating, began to crack. The hate that had been his compass no longer pointed anywhere. It just… drifted.