A full week had passed since Aegon was officially named the Dragon, and now the time had come for both him and Leo to report to Planet Vorthas for their initial round of skill training under the Twelfth Elder's guidance.
For Veyr, this development came as a welcome reprieve, since he had spent the last several days doing nothing except hold endless meetings with strangers, merchants and bureaucrats…. each more tiresome than the last.
Leo, however, found the timing far from ideal.
He had only just begun to familiarize himself with the internal workings of the Juxta Military Base, slowly peeling back its layers and beginning to understand the tip of the iceberg behind its operation, when he was abruptly pulled away and thrust into the Twelfth Elder's training program.
—--
(Planet Vorthas, the hangar bay)
When Leo stepped off the transport ship and onto the soil of Planet Vorthas, the first thing he noticed wasn't the Hangar Bay's imposing structure or the elite guards stationed at every corner, but rather the tall figure standing at the edge of the arrival platform, seemingly waiting for him to step-off.
'No way…. Surely he doesn't want to start a rematch here… does he?' Leo wondered for a second, as he was surprised to see the newly crowned Dragon, Aegon Veyr, waiting for him to descend with his arms folded and his expression serious.
'The fuck? Why is he looking this way? And who is that intense guy behind Veyr?' Leo wondered, as behind Veyr stood a middle aged man with specs of gray in his beard who also scanned him with an intensity that was just as strong as that of Veyr.
*Step*
*Step*
After descending, he locked eyes with Veyr across the crowd of security personnel and Cult officials, and for a moment expected the usual from his fallen opponent— resentment, pride, maybe a trace of competitive tension still lingering from their last duel.
But instead, Veyr looked at him with something entirely different.
Conviction.
Not anger. Not smugness. Just a strange, unwavering resolve in his eyes, as if there was something he desperately wanted to say but couldn't quite figure out how.
Leo tried to ignore it at first, walking past him with nothing more than a nod. But Veyr didn't move. He just kept looking at him, eyes burning with unspoken thought.
And even when a considerable amount of time passed, that damn stare didn't go away.
Even when they were being guided through Hangar Bay and onto a private Hovercraft... even when the Twelfth Elder's aides explained to them their upcoming schedules and where the Twelfth Elder would be meeting up with them, Leo could feel that same look clinging to the back of his neck like a constant weight.
As eventually, once they were onboard the hovercraft and heading securely towards the training site, Leo turned toward him with a raised brow and an expression halfway between amusement and exhaustion.
"Everything alright, cuz?" he asked casually, folding his arms as he leaned against the nearest seat mount.
Veyr hesitated for a moment, then exhaled slowly, like the words had been lodged in his throat for days.
"I don't know what made you think that I'd be a better candidate to become Dragon than you," he began, voice steady but low, "but… I won't let you down."
Leo blinked, the sentence catching him off guard.
"I'm not perfect. Clearly not the strongest. But I'll earn this title. I'll fight, I'll improve, I'll lead… even if it kills me. Even if it takes everything I have. I'll grow into the role. I promise. I'll become someone worthy of the trust you showed me."
His voice didn't waver.
And technically, he never once said thank you in his speech.
But Leo understood it all the same, even if it left him unexpectedly tongue-tied.
This wasn't an outcome he had anticipated, because in truth, he hadn't intended to pass the torch with any sort of confidence or belief in Veyr.
His words that day….. about not being ready, about wanting to focus on growth— were more of a convenient excuse to not become Dragon himself than anything profound.
His excuse about Veyr being more worthy nothing more than a smokescreen for a decision that was actually driven by selfish interests.
But somehow, Veyr had interpreted it as something else entirely…..
The boy misguidedly had started to see that forfeit as a vote of faith.
As a gesture of recognition.
And Leo felt like it was best not to break that illusion now, considering how big of a change that small vote of confidence seemed to have on his personality.
His cousin had somehow gone from a snotty, brash warrior to whatever transitional gentleman he was today, all because of that one tiny misunderstanding—making it feel almost criminal to tell him the truth now.
"Alright then," Leo hence said simply, patting him on the shoulder as he turned away.
"Guess I'll be expecting some big things from you, O great Dragon."
Veyr didn't reply, but his intense nod said everything.
The man clearly did not hold any resentment over losing the fight anymore.
Which, while it did little to ease any of Leo's other concerns, at least reassured him that sabotage from Veyr was one thing he probably wouldn't have to worry about while training…..
Thankfully, the hovercraft ride didn't last long, as within the hour, they arrived at the outskirts of an unmarked zone on Vorthas, far removed from any city or base.
And as the door hissed open, Leo was shocked to see a field full of twisted metal constructs laying ahead.
It wasn't a training ground.
It was a torture yard.
Dozens of rusted contraptions stood anchored to the earth— spiked coils, weighted suits, leather harnesses, and compression bands designed to squeeze, pull, and contort the body through prolonged strain.
Each device looked like it had been built not to train warriors, but to reshape them from the inside out, as Leo's brow twitched while he took it all in.
'This place reminds me of how master Ben used to train me back in the day, only a hundred times more intense.' He thought, as he recalled how his journey of becoming an Assassin and gaining unreal flexibility in his joints started in a torture park just like this one.