The morning mist clung to the spires of the Imperial Palace, but the courtyard below was a tempest of activity. It had been nine years since Riven had stumbled out of the void and onto his children's nursery floor, and the world had not stopped turning for a single second. His little children who once gripped his fingers with terrified desperation were gone, replaced by two towering teenagers who seemed to outgrow their leather training armor every few months.
Vaelorian stood on the steps, his hands tucked into the sleeves of his heavy robes, watching as Adonis hoisted a massive wooden crate onto the back of a transport carriage as if it were filled with nothing but feathers. The boy had Vaelorian's broad shoulders and Riven's jawline that had recently sharpened into something more handsome, but his eyes—round and silver, remained purely Vaelorian's.
"Donis, if you pack any more whetstones, the horses won't be able to pull the carriage," Riven called out, leaning against a stone pillar with a smile that hadn't aged a day. He looked exactly as he did when he returned, his youth probably preserved by the void, though there was a depth in his gaze now that only a father could possess.
Adonis wiped sweat from his brow, grinning back. "Just being prepared, Papa. You always said a knight is only as good as his maintenance."
"Aww, Look at you," Riven said teasingly, a familiar ache of pride blooming in his chest. "You're all grown up now. You don't need me anymore."
Adonis laughed quietly before looking up at his father. "I'll always need you, Papa. There's so much I still need to learn from you and father."
On the other side of the carriage, Aaliyah-Lavelle was having a much more intense departure. She was currently locked in a serious debate with Barron, who had been appointed as the camp's head instructor. Her long black hair was pulled back into a braid, and she stood with her hands on her hips, her eyes glowing with a faint, swirling silver light.
"I'm telling you, Uncle Barron, I can sense the sparring patterns before they even start," Aaliyah insisted, her voice ringing with the same regal authority Vaelorian used in council meetings. "It's not cheating if it's a biological advantage!"
"It's cheating in my ring, Little Star!" Barron bellowed, though his eyes were crinkled with affection. He looked at Willow, who was standing nearby checking Sora's gear—almost a teenager herself. "Your daughter is going to give me a migraine before we even reach Dawnspire."
Vaelorian stepped down the stairs, placing a hand on Aaliyah's shoulder. The girl instantly softened, the fire in her eyes fading as she leaned into her father's touch.
"Listen to your instructors, Liyah," Vaelorian said softly. "Your gift is a bridge, not a shortcut. Use it to understand your opponents, not just to defeat them." Vaelorian kissed her head gently. "You're so like your Papa," he mused, glancing at his husband with a smile. "You have the same restless fire, that same inability to sit still when there's a challenge to be met. But you also feel everything so deeply like I do."
Vaelorian worries about his daughter's heart in a place as cold as the training camp, but then he sees the way she carries herself, and he knows she's the one who will bring the warmth to everyone else.
As the final supplies were loaded, the atmosphere shifted from chaotic to somber. This wasn't just a trip; it was their first real step away from the palace walls, a twelve-month intensive training at the Imperial Camp where the next generation of the Empire's defenders would be forged.
Riven walked over to Adonis, pulling him into a rough embrace. "Don't let the instructors break your spirit, son. And don't break their bones or too many of their practice dummies. They're expensive."
Adonis laughed, hugging his father back with a strength that would have winded a normal man. "I'll be careful, Papa."
Riven then turned to Aaliyah, who was trying very hard to look stoic and failing miserably. She threw her arms around his neck, burying her face in his shoulder just like she always did when she was six.
"I'm going to miss you so much, Papa." she whispered.
Riven squeezed her tight, his voice thick with the kind of emotion he usually hid behind jokes. "We'll visit. I promised, didn't I? And you can show me that new psychic-lunge you've been working on.I'll even let you win. Maybe."
"You will not," she giggled, pulling back and wiping her eyes. "You're way too competitive for that."
Vaelorian stood beside Riven, taking his husband's hand as the kids climbed into the carriage. As the horses began to move and the wheels rattled against the cobblestones, the twins leaned out of the window, waving frantically.
"Don't forget to visit us this weekend, you pinky promised!" Aaliyah shouted over the noise.
Riven held up his hand, his pinky extended, and Vaelorian did the same. They stood there until the carriage disappeared through the grand archway, leaving the courtyard suddenly, jarringly quiet.
Vaelorian let out a long, shaky breath, leaning his head against Riven's shoulder. "It's too quiet. I hate it already."
Riven turned, pulling Vaelorian into his arms right there in the middle of the empty courtyard. He kissed Vaelorian's forehead, his breath warm against his skin. "They will be fine, Babe. We did a good job. They're strong, they're kind, and they've got each other. Besides, the instructors are the ones I'm worried about."
"I know," Vaelorian whispered, looking up into the eyes of the man he had once thought lost forever. "But I remember when they could both fit in your lap. Now they're going off to fight battles of their own."
Riven smiled, that same mischievous, confident grin that had anchored Vaelorian through the darkest years of his life. He swept Vaelorian up into his arms, earning a startled laugh from the Emperor.
"Well," Riven said, his eyes darkening with that familiar, loving heat as he began to carry his husband back toward their private chambers. "The kids are gone. The palace is quiet. And I believe I owe you a lifetime of attention to make up for their absence. Shall we start now?"
Vaelorian laughed, wrapping his arms around Riven's neck and pulling him close as the palace doors closed behind them. They were still together, their children were grown, and the story that had begun in tragedy had finally found its perfect ending.
THE END.