Sinking into Sunlight #5
Farther up, he caught sight of a young woman stepping away with a full plate—elegant, composed, with hair the same rich shade as Dragonfly’s and the same tilt to her eyes. Just older. Sharper around the edges. She was laughing at something her companion whispered in her ear.
Collin felt Dragonfly brighten, then dim just as quickly. She waved, eager, hopeful—but her sister didn’t notice. Too focused on the man beside her.
Noticing the way Dragonfly’s shoulders dropped, he leaned a little closer. “Is everything alright?”
“That’s my sister, Bluejay,” she said quietly. “But that fellow...”
He tilted his head. “Her beau?”
She shook her head, then gave a vague shrug. Her expression clouded, eyes darkening with something he couldn’t name. She didn’t explain further.
Collin wished he could take whatever burden she carried and hold it for her—even if only for a while. He’d have listened for hours if she let him. Watched her mouth form the words, watched her eyes shift from stormy to still.
Why her? Why did she pull at him like this?
She was like the moon, and he, some tide-bent thing—drawn and undone by her gravity.
A loud roar jolted Collin out of his reverie.
The noise was coming from a large sandy court at the center of the vast clearing. Crowds of people were gathered around the court, shouting and cheering for the players.
"I bet Aries and Arion are having their rematch," Dragonfly said excitedly. "Come! I have to see this!”
As Dragonfly grasped his uninjured hand, his heart nearly roared, shouting the words he dared not say out loud. Her fingers closed gently around his wrist. She tugged, and he gladly followed. He would follow her anywhere.
At the center of the sand court, Aries and Arion circled each other like wolves—shoulders squared, eyes locked, muscles coiled. Their rematch had drawn a massive crowd, and the energy of it vibrated in Collin’s chest.
Discus was the pride of the mountain—a brutal, beautiful game that turned strength and precision into spectacle. Generations had grown up on it. Even the elders in the crowd were leaning forward, eager.
Arion stood tall—broad-shouldered, calm-eyed, but thrumming with focus. Normally soft-spoken, even shy, he turned into a storm when he stepped into the ring.
The crowd roared as he pivoted sharply, planted his feet, and launched the heavy stone disc. It spun through the air in a high, perfect arc, catching the firelight as it flew.
A moment later—it hit.
The disc landed with a deep, satisfying thud, sending up a cloud of sand and dust. Collin squinted through it, heart in his throat. All around him, the crowd sucked in a breath.
Before the dust could settle, a boy bolted onto the court, measuring stick in hand.
Collin leaned forward, pulse quickening.
Had he beaten Aries?
“Who’s winning?” Collin called to no one in particular.
“They’re tied—two to two!” Clive bounced on the balls of his feet, ruffling his honey-gold hair. “I’ve got my money on Aries!”
Collin turned to Clive’s twin. “What about you, Niall?”
“Definitely Arion!” Niall shouted.
“It’s Arion by an inch!” someone yelled from the pit.
Arion whooped, arms raised in triumph, but the cheers of his fans swallowed his voice.
Now it was Aries’s turn.
He stepped onto the field, lifting his disc high overhead as the crowd erupted. Collin grinned and cupped his hands around his mouth. “I’m betting all my money on you, Aries! Come on—make Chroma proud!”
Collin liked discus well enough, but the noise, the jostling crowd, the showboating—it wasn’t for him. He’d rather watch, cheer, make bets from the sidelines. If he craved a thrill, he preferred quieter risks, the kind that didn’t leave his ears ringing.
Aries, on the other hand, lived for the spotlight. He soaked in the cheers, gesturing grandly, baiting Arion with mock bravado. Arion shouted back, grinning, and Aries made a few false starts just to rile everyone up.
Then he shouted, “Increase the weight!”
The crowd roared.
“That one!” he called, pointing to the heavier disc. He tossed the lighter one toward Arion. “Do you need help lifting it?”
Arion scoffed and hefted the heavier disc. As they prepared to switch, everything went wrong.
Aries, still caught up in the show, turned to respond to a shout from the crowd. Arion motioned to him, but misread the moment.
He threw.
Collin’s breath caught.
Aries half-turned—too late.
The disc struck his wrist with a sickening thud and dropped to the sand.
He cried out, clutching his arm. Around them, the crowd gasped.
“Are you alright?” Arion shouted, already sprinting across the court.
Hadria was faster. She broke through the circle of stunned onlookers and knelt beside Aries, cradling his hand with care. Her eyes snapped to Arion, sharp and furious.
“How could you?” she hissed.
“Is it broken?” someone asked.
“Who won?”
“I think it’s over!” another voice called.
A wave of groans followed. The bettors were especially displeased.
Collin and Dragonfly crossed the sand to meet their friends. Around them, the crowd had already begun to scatter. At the far end of the court, boys were setting up shooting targets.
“You better take him to the clinic,” Collin said, eyes on Aries’s swollen wrist.
“I know.” Hadria’s voice softened. She kissed Aries’s temple. “Come along, darling. I hope it’s not broken.”
The sandy court was overtaken almost immediately. Before Collin and the others could even step off the field, a group of eager knife throwers was already waving them aside.
Lekyi was the first to claim the space.
His North Town gold hair shimmered silver in the moonlight, and his smile—bright, easy, and unmistakably confident—drew cheers from a knot of girls near the sidelines. He threw with no hesitation. The blade sang through the air and struck dead center on the red mark.
Dragonfly clapped with delight, letting out a cheer that caught Collin’s ear more than the thud of the knife.
Next, Nic stepped up. Before throwing, he glanced toward Helen—sitting cross-legged with the oversized puppy in her lap, her gaze fixed on him like he’d hung the stars.
Nic threw just as she blew him a kiss. The blade landed with a satisfying thunk, but he was already grinning at her, not the target.
Lekyi returned to the line, and he and Nic began working the crowd in tandem—flourishes, showy throws, exaggerated bows. Collin watched them for a moment, then turned to Dragonfly with a half-smile.
“Shall we check what’s left at the grill?”
But Dragonfly wasn’t listening.
Her eyes were fixed on Lekyi. He stood at the center of the court, and for a brief moment, they seemed to be mouthing something across the distance—a wordless exchange that ended as quickly as it began.
Then, without a word, she turned to Collin and lifted his wrist, checking the time on his watch.
“I should go,” she said. “My aunt nearly lost her mind the night of your coming of age.”
“May I walk with you?”
She shook her head, though her smile curled wickedly. “You stay. Have a bite. And then go humble those boastful boys, would you?”
Collin barely had time to nod before she was already moving, her hair catching the moonlight like silver thread. His heart thudded after her as she slipped through the clearing’s edge and vanished into the shadows of the trees.
But her smile—and the warmth of her fingers on his wrist—lingered long after she was gone.