It had taken a long, unpowered flight to get to the wall, but it was what Vander was meant to do- soar. He ached, yes, but it was a good, familiar ache, especially after flying for so long.

Vander inhaled gently, limbs grasping in the air as if he were dragging himself forward with a surging flap.

He had to figure out what this refuge was- were there beings in it? Could the Sentinels use it? What were bad intentions? Certainly Vander had none of them- he only intended to keep those he cared about safe, after all-

He did? As he landed before the supposed wall, he grumbled from the back of his throat. He could keep them safe in the Warren, and he could train them. This far out, he'd have no access to them, no way to contact them. Why was he even doing this? This was stupid. This idea was stupid. He nearly made to pace away before he stopped midstride, letting out a small breath.

No. It didn't hurt to try. Vander wheeled back on the wall and shut his eyes tight, trying to conjure the thought of protection and keeping people safe and children dying before him and slashed thro-

He shook his head violently. No- those weren't good intentions. You were just bringing up your old trauma. Some stupid magic wall didn't want to see that, probably. Or it did? Did it want to protect him from that trauma? But, he wanted to protect others from experiencing it, not on the- well, the end that involved being dead.

Vander sighed once more, inwardly, before raising his head and puffing out his mane. Right. He was a Desert Rose. He survived countless Hydra trials. He had survived. Surely, he could enter some sort of refuge and- maybe just chill there for a few days.

He deflated. He really didn't want to talk to Vargas, and, right now, with the exhaustion of the flight- he kind of just wanted to sleep. Should he focus on that? Was that a good intention? Find a place to sleep, find a place to just hang out for like, a few hours? That sounded like good intentions.

Drawing himself up once more, Vander made to push his forehead against the supposedly false wall, eyes shut.

It was Meissa who first noticed. Despite peeking at Lyn's body curled beneath the shallow moat, she could feel his magic—or what felt like his magic—returning to the refuge, but it seemed hesitant, floating in the barrier. Her ears twitched, wings shuffling, before she bounded like a weasel to the place where she could sense it. Whiskers and tendrils twitched on her nose.

Her eyes were big as saucers as the small, orange body of a stranger pressed through the warding shield Azigh had given to them. She took little steps back, flitting as she did so, but her expression was not fear. It was surprise! Excitement!

"HELLO!" she greeted loudly with her small voice. That was definitely dad's magic, but who was this!? She could feel her body wriggling, feet tippy-tapping as she danced in place, continuously backing up to make room for him to enter the refuge. Her mouth kept opening and closing, as if she were going to say more, but ultimately nothing but airy aahs came out.

At the center of the refuge, the giant white flower pulsed with blue lightning, the labradorite at the center bursting with a bright, shimmering glow—and in one smooth motion, the flower wrapped closed as Lyn's body snaked beneath the water until his head lifted gently from its surface. Meissa was whipping her head back and forth between them. A soft trilling bubbled from his throat, the sound rumbling through their secret garden with warm and welcoming vibrations.

A series of coos and soft sounds followed, and although Meissa would have translated immediately, her head tilted and she let out a flat, "...huh?" As if in disbelief, she turned her attention to the stranger, eyes narrowing. "Dad says you can understand him?" She very much doubted that, but again, it was his magic she sensed from this fluffy guy that was half her size.

And indeed, if Vander tried, the soft sounds would take on meaning in his mind; and while Lyn could not express a full vocabulary, the intention was still the same:

"Welcome home! Welcome home! I thought that they had killed you!"

He did not yet rise from the moat, but stared from it with wanting eyes. The shift in the garden was noticeable immediately: a surge of empathy through all of the living things within. The flowers waved as if in a breeze, a collection of animals called out with soft cries, and Meissa herself had turned to the stranger with tears welling in her eyes. She didn't know what this feeling was, but Lyn did not know how to contain it within only himself.

But the feeling... When he had found the stones, protected them, infused them with his own magic—by accident, a little—and the pride he felt as he guarded the forming chrysalises...! He had never known such joy, to watch the little bodies of his two creations grow quietly in their crystal wombs. The fear he felt when they were discovered. The hurt and pain he felt when they hatched, with looming shadows waiting to take them, and his pitiful cries as the tiny pups were hauled forcefully away from him. The searing blast of a Master's magic, the powerlessness as his legs crumbled, the empty and unknowing looks of his children as they disappeared beyond his reach.

"We'll test them in the Trials," said a voice.

"That's cruel! They weren't made for that!" laughed another, its tone mocking and mean.

Lyn shook his head, apologizing with a quiet rumble as he reigned his emotions in. Meissa hadn't know about that, and her heart was big with feelings from the experience.

"But you survived," she said with a gasp, turning to view the stranger again.

The refuge silenced as Lyn tried not to overwhelm their guest, but he simply could not contain himself before. He truly thought he had doomed both of those children to death simply by raising them with his own magic. A sound trembled from him, like quiet crying, and another surge of empathy released from him unknowing:

Whole.

"Where is your sibling?" he asked carefully, cautiously. Hopefully as well as this one was.

Vander's eyes peeked open as nothing but air hit the crown of his head, hesitant as he brought a foot on, as well. Strange. Then, he was... Good? A monumental weight lifted from his heart as he let out a small huff, bonless for the briefest of moments before drawing himself up to look at his environment.

But, right in front of him was-- someone. Blinking hard, he just barely startled backwards at the loud greeting, unused to such enthusiasm. Well, they certainly seemed to be one with good intentions. Or, innocent ones? Either way, Vander let his guard fall as his wings relaxed on his shoulders. A faint smile fell upon his face- this being was friendly, after all, and the excitement was beginning to grow on him.

They must not get many visitors, then. Briefly, his ear flicked at the gentle noise of crackling and water moving, peering around Meissa's dancing legs to glance at the moat in the center. Ah, there was a being in there..? Vander's broad ears shoved forward as he side-stepped to look, squinting curiously to the obscured being under the water.

Vander's ears pushed to Meissa before his head did at their confusion. It had been mirrored in his own expression- "I-" He started to say something and cut himself short, letting out a soft, breathy noise from the roof of his mouth.

The father's words began to form in Vander's mind, and he cast his eyes back to Lyn, taking another cautious step forward. Home? He'd never been here.

"They..?"

He shook his head, one step drawing back. "I'm alive now." His head had drawn up, his tone level and serious, as though he'd just been offended by the very thought of being killed. And why did this stranger care? Even as hostile as his thoughts were, Vander could feel his scales prickling with a feeling he had not felt in such a long time. What was this..? He- Why did these beings care for him? Did they know him?

As the emotions rumbled through the garden, Vander took another step back, uncertainty replacing all sense of vague passive-aggression. It was alien, yet-- so familiar, like a memory he never had. Him and his brother. The trials. They had-

Vander choked as it set in. That was him.

This-- this was his-

Vander twisted his head away, squeezing his eyes shut, lowering his stance and shaking. No. No, that's not possible. He was designed for the trials. He and his brother (no other Champions had brothers), he and his family-

He let out a half-halted breath, strained through a clasping throat, and he gasped. Eyes opened, staring to the ground. "I don't--" He shook his head, wings drawing in as tight as they'd go, before staring up to Meissa with wet eyes. "I don't understand-"

He swallowed dryly, wiping away tears that threatened to roll down his scaly cheeks. "I'm not--" He let out in one breath. "I don't-- I don't know-"

He shut his eyes near shamefully, head lowering even further. He should know. Lab should know. "It's been cycles, the- the last I saw him was in Pisces-- we haven't had, trials in cycles. We've been-- safe, for cycles." Vander hazarded a step forward, past Meissa and towards his father Lyn.

"Have-- Have you been here, all this time?" His voice was quiet, so quiet, and he felt like any answer would rip out his heart. He didn't know what answer he wanted. He didn't know what he wanted to hear.

But, for the first time in all of his years, he actually felt...

Safe.