The air vibrated with anticipation, the entire stadium holding its breath as the players took their positions. The scent of damp earth and sweat mixed with the crackle of elemental energy, saturating the atmosphere with an almost suffocating intensity.
This wasn't just a game.
It was war.
The referee lifted the whistle to his lips.
A sharp, piercing blast.
And just like that, the match began.
The Titanball shot into the sky, spinning wildly as it absorbed traces of elemental power from the air. The enchanted sphere pulsed, reacting to the energy on the field, the weight of the game.
Jax moved first.
A gust of wind exploded beneath him, propelling him into the air, his body twisting mid-leap with effortless precision. His hands met the ball with a soft thunk, fingers wrapping around it in a split second before he redirected it downward.
A perfect pass.
Zion caught it mid-run, his fire igniting instantly, licking up his arms in blazing spirals. The heat coming off him was palpable, making the air around him waver, distorting the space like a mirage.
The defenders reacted immediately.
Two players from the opposing team rushed in, their earth-based abilities solidifying the ground beneath their feet for extra grip. They blocked Zion's path, their stances solid, unshakable.
But Zion was pure offense.
He didn't stop.
With a sharp pivot, he slammed his foot into the ground, sending a pulse of heat across the field. The temperature spiked. Flames twisted around his form as he propelled himself forward, forcing the defenders back with sheer heat.
The goal was in sight.
The crowd roared, the bleachers trembling from the force of it.
Zion launched the ball.
A streak of fire cut through the field, aimed directly for the goalpost.
The shot was perfect. Unstoppable.
Except, Riven was already there.
No one had seen him move.
There was no teleportation, no grand burst of magic.
Just a shift in shadows, a flicker of movement so subtle it was almost imperceptible.
And suddenly, he was in the path of the shot.
Zion's fire collided with something dark, something intangible.
The flames didn't just fizzle out. They were swallowed.
For a fraction of a second, it looked like Riven had simply absorbed the attack, like the fire had tried to touch him but had been consumed by something deeper.
Then, the Titanball was in his hands.
The field fell into a brief, stunned silence.
Then, chaos.
Zion swore, already charging toward him, his rage palpable.
But Riven was already gone.
A blur. A whisper. A shadow on the move.
I barely tracked his movements. No one could.
He wasn't just the fastest player on the field, he was the most untouchable.
Where Zion was raw power, Riven was precision, calculation, inevitability. He didn't run in straight lines, he disappeared between gaps in the game, slipping past players before they even realized he was there.
It was like trying to catch smoke with your hands.
He maneuvered across the field effortlessly, twisting around defenders, reading every movement before it even happened.
His teammates didn't even try to keep up.
They just let him work. He was already at the goal.
One last push.
One final surge of power.
And then, he scored.
The crowd erupted.
The sound was deafening, Brightforge students rising to their feet as the first goal of the game was sealed.
Even I, despite myself, despite everything...
Cheered.
Because for one fleeting second, I had forgotten it all.
Forgotten yesterday. Forgotten the anger.
For that briefest of moments, it was just the game, the energy, the sheer thrill of it.
And as Riven turned back toward the field, his stormy gray eyes briefly flickered toward the stands.
I swore I saw it.
That moment. That second.
Like he had been waiting for my reaction.
Then, just as quickly, he turned away.
And the game continued.
The match had been nothing short of relentless.
Each play was a clash of elements, the field shifting between bursts of fire, powerful gusts of wind, and something far darker lurking at the edges of the game.
Zion, despite his earlier setback, wasn't the type to back down. He played like he had something to prove, like every move had to make up for losing to Riven. His fire burned brighter, his tackles more aggressive, his passes sharper. He scored twice, cutting through defenses with the sheer force of his will.
Jax, as always, was the strategist, the playmaker. He never held the ball long: he moved it where it needed to go, his wind element making his passes almost impossible to intercept.
But Riven.
Riven was everywhere and nowhere at the same time.
His plays weren't flashy, weren't filled with brute force or power moves like Zion's. But they were effective. Deadly. He intercepted at just the right second. He stole space where there was none. He played with precision, patience, and the kind of control that made it look effortless.
And in the final minute, when the score was tied, the last Titanball was in his hands.
He didn't hesitate.
He vanished between defenders like a shadow slipping through cracks, and before the opposing team even realized what had happened... he scored.
The game ended 3-2, Riven's team taking the win.
The final whistle blew, and the stadium exploded in cheers. The first match of the year had set the tone for the season, and there was no doubt, this was only the beginning.
Ezzy and Jade barely gave me a glance before rushing down the bleachers, weaving through students towards the field.
Jade may have denied it, but everyone knew there was something between her and Zion.
They weren't official, hadn't labeled it, but the way she beamed at him as she ran over said enough.
She slowed slightly when she reached him, but Zion? He didn't even hesitate. He just grabbed her wrist, pulling her in close, muttering something that made her throw her head back and laugh.
They were so painfully obvious.
Ezzy didn't even pretend to be subtle.
She all but launched herself into Jax's arms, laughing as he spun her in a circle before setting her back down, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
I remained seated on the bleachers, watching as the crowd slowly thinned out, students filtering out of the stadium, the excitement dimming as the adrenaline wore off.
It was the end of the first school week.
It hadn't been easy. But I made it through.
I exhaled, a slow contentment settling in my chest.
And then, without meaning to seek him out, my eyes found Riven.
He was standing near Coach Arius, a bottle of water in his hand, head tilted slightly as he listened to whatever the coach was saying.
His shirt was damp, clinging slightly to his toned frame.
Sweat dripped from his jaw, sliding down his throat.
His usually composed hair was a mess, strands falling into his face, his body still buzzing with the aftershocks of the game.
I swallowed.
I hate to admit, but he looked hot.
The thought made my pulse stutter, my fingers instinctively tightening around the strap of my guitar case.
Before he could catch me staring, I shot up from my seat, grabbing my things in one swift motion.
I needed to leave. Now.
I pulled out my comm crystal, typing a quick text as I walked toward the exit.
Me:Meeting up with Lara. You guys have fun.
Ezzy and Jade usually spent Friday afternoons with their significant others, and honestly, I didn't want to intrude. I had my own plans with Lara.
The sounds of the stadium faded behind me, the weight of the day settling on my shoulders as I stepped into the cool afternoon air.
For the first time all week, I let myself breathe.
And maybe, just maybe, I felt okay.
That fragile moment of peace didn't last long.
Because Lara wasn't here.
Fridays were always ours, a tradition, a routine we never broke. We'd wander through the Lowmere markets, letting the scent of sweet, spiced cakes pull us in, sharing bites as the sea breeze tangled in our hair. As the sun dipped toward the horizon, we'd find our usual spot, watching it spill gold over the water, talking about everything and nothing.
Lara never forgot. She never canceled without a reason.
Yet, today she hadn't shown up.
I leaned against the entrance wall, arms crossed, my fingers drumming against my sleeve as I checked my comm crystal for what had to be the hundredth time.
No messages. No calls.
A couple of minutes ticked by, stretching into longer, heavier moments.
The parking lot had mostly emptied by now, only a few stragglers laughing and leaning against cars, caught up in post-game excitement. I bit my lip, my stomach twisting as I typed out another text.
Nothing.
I tried calling her.
No answer.
I exhaled sharply. There were a dozen logical reasons for why she wasn't here.
But none of them made sense.
Not for Lara.
A small prickle of unease ran down my spine.
I tried again. Still nothing.
Maybe she got held up. Maybe she was still at home, or maybe she had forgotten her comm crystal somewhere.
Maybe she was in trouble.
After what happened on her birthday, I couldn't ignore the possibility that she was a target. That someone had been waiting for the right moment.
And now she wasn't answering.
This was so unlike her.
My heart pounded, the unease twisting into something darker. Something closer to panic.
I pushed off the wall, gripping the strap of my guitar case tightly as I practically raced out of school, my feet hitting the pavement hard.
I needed to get home. I needed to check if she was there.
I was so lost in thought that I nearly missed the low hum coming from behind me.
A motorcycle.
My stomach tightened.
I clenched my jaw, quickening my pace, trying to block out the deep, steady purr of the engine rolling beside me. The last thing I wanted was him. Not now. Not with this horrible, suffocating feeling clawing at my insides.
But Riven, persistent as ever, pulled up alongside me, his motorcycle gliding effortlessly to match my stride.
"If I didn't know better, I'd think you were running from something.", he said, voice casual, but edged with something sharper, something unreadable.
I didn't even spare him a glance. I Ignored him and kept walking.
"Everything alright?"
A bitter laugh almost escaped me.
Everything alright?
The same Riven who, not even a day ago, had stood in front of me and ripped me apart with nothing but words, who made it clear that I was nothing but a pathetic case, was now acting like he cared?
I didn't answer. I just walked faster, heart hammering for an entirely different reason.
"Athena, please."
His voice had changed. Lower, quieter. Like he knew he had no right to ask for my time but was asking anyway.
I didn't stop. I didn't slow down. I didn't owe him anything.
But he didn't leave.
His motorcycle rolled beside me smoothly, unbothered by my avoidance. He kept pace with me like he had all the time in the world.
The frustration, the panic, the worry over Lara, everything snapped.
I stopped abruptly, spinning on my heel so fast he had to tap his brakes to avoid rolling into me.
"Okay, enough!" My voice cut through the air, sharper than I intended, but I didn't care. "Stop following me. This is not the time, Riven. You don't get to hurt my feelings one day and then invade my space the next, acting like we need to talk."
The words came hard and fast, fueled by anger, worry, exhaustion.
"I have more urgent matters to attend to. Sorry, not sorry, if this pathetic girl can't give you her time right now."
I expected him to roll his eyes, to smirk, to mock me like he had yesterday.
Instead, he just stared at me.
Not with annoyance or arrogance.
Just stared, unreadable, gaze locked onto mine as if searching for something I wasn't sure even existed.
Then, after a pause, he nodded once.
"Then at least let me help you."
I blinked, caught off guard.
"Let me take you home," he said simply. "That's where you're headed, right?"
I clenched my jaw. "I don't need your help. I don't need your pity. Just, leave me alone."
I turned, ready to walk away.
But before I could take another step, his hand caught my wrist.
The touch wasn't rough. Wasn't possessive.
It was steady. Grounding.
I froze.
"Listen, Athena," Riven said, his voice low, controlled. A stark contrast to the chaos unraveling inside me. "I was out of line yesterday. I know that. I don't need you to tell me."
His grip on my wrist wasn't tight, but it held weight, the kind that wasn't easily shaken off.
"I hate myself for what I said. I was an asshole. You didn't deserve that."
He exhaled sharply, as if admitting this was a struggle within itself. "I don't expect you to forgive me. But at least let me explain."
I free my wrist from his grasp, the skin there feeling hot, imprinted with the brief touch.
I step back, still processing his words, but the urgency of Lara's disappearance pulls me back to reality.
Do I accept his apology? Do I even care right now? The thought flits through my mind, but before I can untangle it, Lara's absence looms larger than anything else.
"I don't have time for this, Riven." My voice is flat, distant, but there's a tremor beneath it.
Riven watches me, unmoving, his expression impossible to read.
I turned away, walking a couple steps forward, then stopped.
I look back, eyes scanning his face for… something. A reason. A hesitation. A crack in that ever-composed mask.
He's still straddling his motorcycle, one hand resting on the throttle, the other gripping his knee—like he's bracing for something.
I exhaled, my fingers tightening around the strap of my guitar case.
"Take me home." The words slip out before I can rethink them. "Lara's missing. I could use your help."
Riven doesn't ask questions. He doesn't hesitate.
He just nods, his expression unreadable, but there's something in the set of his jaw, something close to determination.
Without another word, he reaches out, offering his hand to steady me as I climb onto the bike.
I didn't take it. But I got on anyway.
As the engine rumbled beneath us, I wrapped my arms around his waist, feeling the solid warmth of him under my fingertips. I didn't want to focus on that. I didn't want to acknowledge the way my pulse skips as Riven effortlessly pulls onto the road.
The cityscape blurs past us, the afternoon wind cutting through the tension in my chest. For a moment, I closed my eyes, letting myself feel the speed, the movement, the control.
And maybe, just for a second, I forget I'm angry at him.
We reached my house in Lysoria in record time.
The moment Riven pulled to a stop, I slid off the bike, my legs unsteady beneath me. I hesitated for a second too long before stepping back, shaking off the rush of the ride.
"Wait here. I'll check if she's home."
Riven gave a curt nod, his expression still unreadable, offering no argument.
I didn't waste another second. I bolted inside.
My breath came shallow as I took the stairs two at a time, my heart hammering louder with each step.
"Lara!"
The name echoed through the house, bouncing off the walls.
Silence.
A weight settled in my chest, pressing, tightening.
I rushed to her room, my fingers fumbling as I pushed the door open.
Empty.
My pulse spiked, a sharp sting of panic threading through me.
Yanking my comm crystal from my pocket, I dialed her number again, pressing it tightly against my ear.
No answer.
For a brief moment, I considered calling Myrren.
Then I shoved that idea aside, pressing my lips together as I gripped my comm crystal tighter, exhaling sharply through my nose.
I needed a plan.
I turned on my heel and hurried back outside.
Riven was still there, leaning casually against his motorcycle, arms folded across his chest, gaze fixed on the Lysoria skyline.
I have to admit, the view from here was breathtaking: the soft golden lights flickering across the towering structures, the last hints of twilight melting into the horizon.
For the first time, he looked… peaceful.
Lost in thought.
I almost didn't want to break the moment.
But as soon as he heard me approaching, he looked over his shoulder, his sharp gaze locking onto mine.
I hesitated, then said it.
"She's not here."