Chapter Text
“Father Kir!”
Maltin had looked up when Rodri bolted to his feet, much less when Rodri gave a cheerful greeting and practically tackled his mentor when the man rounded the shelves. Enforcer Bellamy didn’t have to steady him this time, but he had clearly been ready to – they had all seen it happen before.
Both were still dressed in travelers’ garb, no vestments or even official Sunsguard uniform in sight. Now that the District was open it was no surprise they had been allowed within the Temple District without visible adornments, but it was startling to realize how much of Maltin’s idea of their appearance had been formed by the uniforms he usually saw them in.
The three of them had finished their initial greetings and reassurances – Rodri had been practically buzzing out of his skin the past few days, worried about how the family visit was going. Everyone was worried, even if they preferred not to admit it, but Rodri was the only one showing it so blatantly.
Maltin had caught Kavrick and Valerik strategizing over ways to minimize the collateral damage inherent in boat-sinking storms the other day though.
By the lack of tension and the fact that the men had clearly come straight here from settling their horses and seeing Her Eminence rather than retreating to lick wounds and build up masks – Maltin would say the visit had gone as well as could be expected. Nothing terrible enough to require the various contingency and vengeance plans that the other Firestarters had cooked up.
He wasn’t upset about that, how could he be, but he was really curious about what all those plans had been.
Returning the Incendiary’s nod when they reached the table, Maltin echoed Etrius and Fabron’s murmured greetings, examining the Sun in Glory their leader was wearing. He’d heard about this from the others and been rather upset he hadn’t had a chance to get a close look at it in person with them. Now Father Kir was wearing it, as he should be, and he could hardly ask to prod at it when –
He reared back when the pendant in question was suddenly hanging in front of his face, feeling the back of his neck heat up when the others chuckled. He exhaled slowly, trying to calm down, because he knew them. He knew tone, and this wasn’t malicious.
“Maltin, you can examine it,” Father Kir said, adjusting his grip so the pendant wasn’t simply swinging in front of his face and offering it to him properly, “I would hardly say no. The worst I might say is let’s set a time for later, but we have nothing pressing and I wished to speak to Etrius about his Charter draft and any last minute edits regardless. Also, I believe Anur made a promise to Fabron we need to follow through on.”
“I did – oh right, that promise,” Enforcer Bellamy shook his head ruefully and dropped his saddlebags on the ground, claiming a chair next to Fabron and saying, “As agreed, we’re coming to you first, and won’t go to Tristan directly until tomorrow in case you need to offer some sort of warning.”
“I – warning?” Fabron asked blankly, before shaking his head and straightening in his seat, looking almost alarmed, “No it is – it is nothing like that, nothing that is wrong it is simply upsetting to him – “
“Fabron,” the Incendiary cut him off, hand raised slightly and more than enough to silence Fabron with a near audible click as his jaw clenched, the two older men exchanging glances before focusing back on him, Father Kir continuing, “Fabron, we are not trying to imply that you are working with Tristan to – cover something, to dodge some penalty. We were under the impression that you wished us to speak with you first because Tristan might find our rather ignorant approaches stressing or upsetting in some way, and would rather avoid adding unnecessary stress. I, at the very least, respond far better to being warned ahead of time that something upsetting is on the way than in being ambushed.”
By Enforcer Bellamy’s grumbling and Father Kir’s dry tone, there was a story there.
“So we will give until tomorrow afternoon, so you can offer him that warning, and if he wishes to speak to us sooner and get the conversation over with, he is free to, but if not, we will designate a time to seek him out,” the Incendiary continued, and Maltin felt his shoulders drop down from around his ears as Fabron relaxed.
He knew he should be properly interested in what Fabron was relaying to their leadership about Tristan, but now that he wasn’t worried he would need to quickly vacate the area with babbled excuses and hopefully remember to return this Sun in Glory before he left, he could focus on the sacred relic in his hands.
Rodri was sitting next to him, watching his examination of the Sun in Glory he had helped craft, clearly near bursting with pride over what he had managed to put together. As well he should, it was beautiful.
Letting his fingertips run over the edge of the disk, murmuring the inscription to himself and wondering if it was merely fancy that caused the sun-blessed steel to flash with a brighter gold when he finished it, Maltin knew he could easily spend marks sitting here examining this piece. It was beautiful. It was – singing?
Brow furrowing, he let his eyes slip mostly closed and listened more intently – carefully focusing on the scraps of something he was hearing and letting the conversations fade – Father Kir speaking to Etrius about the Charter’s final draft, Enforcer Anur murmuring the occasional clarifying question to a low-toned Fabron – those weren’t important, not when he was starting to catch some hint of a tune.
Tracing his fingers over the steel again, he hummed a few bars before scowling, because those weren’t right, didn’t match, so he reached further, humming snippets of not-quite-right harmony as he tried to capture that faint –
“Kari!”
Maltin gasped, eyes flying open as he hit gravel, struggling for a few frantic moments before recognizing the person pinning him down as Father Kir, as safe, but the music wasn’t fading it was still echoing in his ears in the air in fire –
=
Anur barely had a few seconds warning but it was enough to reach across the table and grab Rodri, hauling him across it with liberal help from Fetching his clothes but still almost not soon enough to get him clear of the roaring whirlwind of golden fire that engulfed Maltin and Kir both, Kir’s shout for their Order’s Firecat – Kir’s worried but unharmed and unafraid presence in Anur’s mind – the only thing that kept a complete panic from descending when the fire vanished and them with it.
“They’re in the courtyard. Are all three of you all right?” Anur demanded, forcing back his own alarm and looking the other three over.
None looked injured at the very least, but all looked distressed in some way.
“Fabron, I need you to make sure there are no embers waiting to light our Library on fire,” he ordered, figuring the ordained Firestarter would be the one most definitively able to complete that task. “Etrius, check the books on this table and the shelves behind for damage including superficial and set those that are damaged aside. Once those tasks are finished you are both free to go. Rodri, with me.”
He didn’t bother restraining himself from a run, Rodri following but falling behind simply due to shorter legs. He would normally wait, ensure Rodri was running without pain because he had collided with the table at least once when Anur dragged him across, but he could hear shouts of alarm and needed to make sure no one did anything reckless. He needed to be close enough to at least be able to try if something went wrong.
Barreling into the courtyard he lunged to catch Kavrick around the waist and hurl him back towards the edges – the central gravel circle was filled with a twisting firestorm of golden-white flames radiating enough heat he could feel his skin tightening even from the outer edges of the courtyard.
“Let me go Maltin is in that!” the priest snarled, frantic enough he wasn’t managing to employ too much of his basic hand-to-hand training but still difficult to keep penned.
“So is Kir!” Anur barked back, managing to choke down his own anxiety and continue, “So is Kari! Stand down Kavrick, your student is unharmed!”
“You can’t know that!”
“Yes I can!”
“He can Father Kavrick!” Rodri said, sticking to the walls as he made his way over to them and keeping one wary eye on the firestorm in their midst. “He can, remember? Father Kir would be able to tell him right away if something had gone wrong. Kari could too.”
“Kir has been dealing with these exact flames for weeks without injuring anyone!” Anur continued, gritting his teeth against the paranoid shudder Rodri’s still not-quite-direct reference to their mindspeech induced and cursing when Kavrick nearly managed to escape his hold at the distraction. Wrestling the priest back – this time, he shamelessly Fetched the toes of his boots to the ground, the man was frantic enough he probably wouldn’t notice and Anur wasn’t going to let someone burn in defense of that secret – he quickly continued.
“He can keep Maltin safe, even without Kari’s assistance, but there are no guarantees for anyone else stepping into that. None! What would Maltin do if he burned you?”
That finally cut through Kavrick’s concern, the man freezing in place. Anur didn’t dare loosen his hold on him just yet, continuing implacably, “What would Maltin do, if after he manages to wrestle these flames under control, after he manages to make an immense stride in his abilities, he finds out that his mentor was burned, was scarred at the very least, was dead at the worst, because of flames he accidentally created?”
“He would be devastated,” Jaina answered, emerging around a trailing arm of the firestorm and batting it aside with her ever-present halberd, a grimly worried expression on her face, “Maltin, Kir and Kari are all in there then?”
“Maltin was examining Kir’s new Sun in Glory and started humming to some tune – I think he might have been hearing the song Kir and Rodri hear,” Anur said, catching Rodri’s nod out of the corner of his gaze. “That firestorm manifested almost immediately afterwards. Kir can sense that sort of power and recognized it fast enough for him to grab Maltin and call Kari to get them out of the library and into a cleared area. Fabron and Etrius are ensuring no embers are left behind and checking books for damages.”
“Reasonable,” she said shortly, gaze softening a bit as she looked at Kavrick, saying quietly, “You know he is right, Kavrick.”
“He’s my student,” Kavrick whispered, eyes not wavering from the storm and looking near terrified to even blink.
“Your student is in the best possible hands,” Jaina said, looking past them and calling, “Colbern! How many are with you?”
“Six total, eight counting you two.”
“A six-point containment then. Henrik?”
“He’s here.”
“He’s lead.”
Watching with no little fascination, forcing himself to focus on the Firestarters maneuvering into position for some sort of ritual or rite or spell instead of continuing to mentally prod Kir, Anur managed to get Kavrick and Rodri both settled on a bench along the wall, Kavrick rigidly tense and Rodri wrapping an arm around his ribs worryingly. Reaching over Rodri’s head to grab Kavrick’s collar – just in case – he murmured, “Rodri, are you injured?”
“Some bruising,” he admitted, gaze flickering from the firestorm to Anur’s face and back before he whispered, “You would know, right?”
“Of course,” Anur assured him. He could hardly say otherwise without sending Kavrick into another panicked frenzy, but he wasn’t lying. Kir wasn’t afraid, wasn’t horrified and upset and all the things he would be if he was watching a student under their protection die in fire. He was worried, he was deeply concerned, but there was an underlying sense of wonder, of gleeful curiousity, that would never accompany a true tragedy.
Maltin was uninjured. Kir and Kari both were uninjured. But he would not yet say that they would all be fine. His heart, still racing, wouldn’t let him.
The six Firestarters formed a ring around the firestorm with a healthy border of cleared space – a very good idea, seeing as occasional licks of flame spiraled out quite some distance before looping back into the storm – and were clearly in the midst of some working. Unfortunately Henrik was not one of the four he could see, as being the lead – whatever that meant – probably meant he was making more obvious gestures or indicators of what they were doing. But by the extended hands, raised towards one another to form a more clear circle, various acoutrements for controlling fire visible, they were making some sort of ward. Perhaps ensuring that the firestorm didn’t grow any larger?
Jaina had paced the circle and was approaching them again, runes on her halberd shimmering like a mirage, and she said, “Anur, if you could tell Kir there is a six-point boundary ward in place, that should allow him and Kari both to focus more on getting Maltin’s manifestation of flames calmed down rather than on keeping them contained.”
Telling the Firestarters about their Talent was already coming in handy then, and for more than just proof of concept.
:Kir, Jaina says to tell you there’s a six-point containment ward in place around the storm. Henrik is leading it.:
:Perfect, that helps quite a bit,: Kir replied, and Anur couldn’t quite hold back his relieved sigh when he finally heard proper words from Kir, rather than sensations. Whatever leash Kir had been keeping on the storm very quickly dissolved, lashes of fire no longer looping back into the storm and instead crashing against a mostly invisible but occasionally sparking barrier. :Once we get this locked down, Kari is going to have to stay with him until we can ensure this doesn’t happen accidentally. He’s going to have to join me in meditation to figure these flames out, but I do have a better idea of them now.:
Before Anur had a chance to relay that, Jaina said, “Would my presence help, hinder, or neither?”
Passing that along, Anur caught the bare edge of Kir’s shock at the implied offer before he replied, :Her presence would be an immense help. For one thing, Maltin is more familiar with her. He’s not responding to me.:
When he said that to Jaina he was unsurprised by her grimace, because she very clearly did not find firestorms and flames the comfort and thrill that Kir did, but he was also unsurprised by the way she nodded and turned to the firestorm, halberd held in a cross-body guard position and starting to truly glow before she strode in, soon vanishing from sight.
He had never seen anyone but Kir walk into fire like that.
By Kavrick’s shudder, by Rodri’s gasp, by Aelius’ startled oath, he wasn’t the only one struck by the sight.
=
Kir had never realized – he had never heard –
The golden flames were singing.
The tune that Rodri had recognized, had pointed out, with the Sun in Glory he had made, was echoing and amplified in the golden flames that had engulfed Maltin the moment he added his own Talent to the harmony. His own attempts to grasp them, to control them properly, had failed because he hadn’t been hearing them properly, he had only been catching a faint edge, the occasional note, rather than the entire melody and no wonder Vanya Flamesinger had searched so very long and bargained so very hard for sun-blessed steel!
Kari had managed to get them to the courtyard and they had wordlessly split the labor of keeping the three of them supplied with breathable air, and keeping the firestorm from growing to uncontainable size. Keeping them alive was the more immediately crucial task, so Kari had taken it. Any lapses in Kir’s concentration or waver in his control due to his not-yet-complete understanding of the golden flames would be easier to recover from without serious damage if all he had to contend with was keeping the firestorm within the courtyard’s boundaries.
But it left him with little focus to explain things to the teen shaking in his arms.
:Kir, Jaina says to tell you there’s a six-point containment ward in place around the storm. Henrik is leading it.:
:Perfect, that helps quite a bit,: Kir replied, relief washing over him and he didn’t even hesitate to let the majority of his focus retreat from containment, and letting even that small bit reduce to nothing after the first few seconds proved Henrik’s ward would hold. Jaina would not have had Anur pass that message on without being confident that the ward would work, and he was glad to see that her confidence hadn’t been misplaced. Even those few seconds spent without wrapping those singing flames back in on themselves was enough for him to reach some conclusions, passing on to Anur, :Once we get this locked down, Kari is going to have to stay with him until we can ensure this doesn’t happen accidentally. He’s going to have to join me in meditation to figure these flames out, but I do have a better idea of them now.:
Anur couldn’t have passed that along by the time he relayed, :Jaina wants to know if her presence would help, hinder or neither.:
Kir glanced at Kari, the Cat’s blue eyes equally stunned at the offer because – Jaina had no reason to offer that. She knew as well as anyone that they would be able to figure this out, get things back under control, without her. It might take longer, but they would do it. She did not have to do this.
That didn’t mean he wouldn’t take her up on it.
:Her presence would be an immense help. For one thing, Maltin is more familiar with her. He’s not responding to me.:
Anur sent back wordless assurance and by the jangling shock-awe-wonder that overpowered the anxiety he had been radiating ever since this started Jaina had walked straight into the storm. His mental estimate about the storm’s size – a whirlwind, more accurately, it truly wasn’t large – was evidently right, as it took barely enough time for a few rushed strides for Jaina to appear, halberd’s sigils glowing and a determined expression on her face.
He was so glad she was the other First Order Firestarter. Friendship aside, fire worried her. She had nightmares about her First Order Trial but she had still succeeded. She had still tried. She was a much more realistic example for others to follow.
Planting the butt of her weapon in the gravel and adding her own reinforcement to Kari’s protective dome, she crouched next to him and rested a hand on Maltin’s back, murmuring, “Maltin? Can you respond?”
“I can,” Maltin’s voice wavered, the teen finally pulling back a bit from where he’d buried his face in Kir’s chest but quickly reversing course when he caught sight of the flames surrounding them, flinching away.
“You can hear them,” Kir murmured, eyes narrowing at Maltin’s shuddering nod. “You can still hear them – they are loud, to you?”
“Loud like – like a full Temple chorus with all the doors shut,” Maltin whispered.
Jaina made a clicking noise against her teeth and shook her head when Kir shot her a quizzical look, saying quietly, “I don’t hear anything but the sounds of fire, Kir. No music of any sort.”
“Hmm. And if anyone else was likely to it would be you,” Kir said, filing that knowledge away to pursue later before returning his focus to the matter at hand. He had – well. It was a flimsy theory, at best, but at worst it would do nothing.
“And what would be the most stridently clashing note to that chorus you hear?” he prompted, smiling when Maltin jerked back to give him a dubious look, shrugging as he explained, “This storm started when you hummed along with it, and gave that tune the extra push to manifest in the world as fire. Seems an idea.”
“The silent gong?” Jaina asked, raising an eyebrow but looking more intrigued than doubtful.
“Possibly meant to be the silencing gong,” Kir offered back, having recalled the same strange scrap of phrase that was nonetheless present in all the versions of Vanya Flamesinger’s tale.
Maltin hesitated, hummed a few notes before flinching each time, and finally inhaled and brought his fingers to his lips, Jaina and Kir both clapping their hands over their ears in time to avoid being deafened by his horrifically shrill whistle.
But that was enough. The song the golden flames had been dancing to quivered and broke apart into disparate, dissolving pieces and now that they weren’t so well synchronized and harmonized with one another Kir was able to lend his Talent to Kari’s and finish silencing them entirely. At least for the moment.
“Maltin!” Kavrick shouted, halfway across the courtyard by the time the flames entirely disappeared and practically shoving Jaina out of the way to get to his student, hauling him into a fierce hug and murmuring, “Are you all right? You’re not injured? You scared the life out of me, Maltin, Sunlord praised you’re sure you’re all right?”
Kari was purring up a storm and draping himself across the pair’s laps, head butting against Maltin’s chest and Kir let his own tension ease when even the complete distraction and evident terror Maltin was coming down from didn’t bring the firestorm back. Jaina had evidently been waiting for the same thing as it was only after those first few moments that she made a sharp gesture with her hands and the buzz of power from the containment ward started to fade.
Anur’s hand settled on his shoulder, his brother murmuring worriedly, “You’re all right yourself, Kir?”
“Fine,” he replied lowly, eyes narrowing as he looked at the Sun in Glory Maltin had flung aside the moment he’d remembered where and when they were. Henrik was crouching to pick it up, looking more than a little fascinated by the piece, so he left him to examine it in peace for a few moments.
If he kept a careful ear out for that song spiking against his senses, well – that was only sensible.
“This started in the archives?” Seras screeched, Rodri leaning away from the man with a horrified expression – evidently he had been explaining to Valerik what had happened and Seras had overheard.
Thankfully Etrius and Fabron emerged at a run and took one look at the scene, blatantly sagging in relief, before Etrius caught his mentor’s panic and hastily cut him off, “Seras! Father Seras, it’s okay! The books are all fine, I checked everything in the vicinity and made sure Fabron caught all the traces of warmth.”
“We could have been out here much sooner,” Fabron said darkly.
“Father Kir and Kari were both with Maltin, neither of us would have been much help anyway, which makes the next priority the books!” Etrius snapped, his mentor nodding along and Anur cut off the exasperated sighs and rolled eyes from the other Firestarters with a barked laugh.
“When you put it like that, you’re completely right,” Anur said cheerfully, “I was really only thinking about how mad Kir would be if his favorite place in Sunhame burned down. So thank you both for making sure the archives were secure.”
Any reply from Etrius was cut off by his mentor hauling him into a hug and, by the muttering Kir could catch, offering heartfelt prayers of thanks to the Sunlord for getting him such a wonderful student. By the flailing, Etrius was at least a little embarrassed, or had some reason to pretend to be. Colbern was rolling his eyes next to the pair and patted Etrius on the head, the acolyte managing to wrench himself free of his mentor long enough to swat at Colbern’s hand with a scowl, and Kir couldn’t help but smile and knew he wasn’t the only one.
But back to the matter at hand.
Looking back to Henrik, he pitched his voice to carry and said, “If you hear any sort of singing – don’t hum along with it, please.”
“Is that what happened?” Henrik asked, fascinated and far from the only one, if the intrigued looks the Firestarters were swapping were any indication. “I don’t hear anything, so the point is moot, but how fascinating. That whistle we heard stopped them?”
“A silencing gong, perhaps,” Jaina said, shrugging when the others glanced her way, “Kir’s suggestion. I’m honestly amazed it worked but it raises some very interesting points.”
“Particularly in the fact I’m certain Maltin does not share the same Talent as Rodri and I do, yet can still perceive this song,” Kir agreed, waving a vague gesture of permission when Lumira reached for the Sun in Glory as Henrik started to offer it back.
“This song – oh frost it, I can’t even ask yet, if I get stories started they’ll never stop and Laskaris will be furious to miss it,” Lumira grumbled, passing the Sun in Glory she’d already seen once off to Valerik, who looked to be sincerely considering holding it up to his ear before thinking better of it.
“When is he due in?” Kir asked, glancing around the courtyard, “He is the last of us to arrive – he was stopping by one of the mercenary groups on the way back from Vondera, right?”
“The ones helping with a pirate issue before moving on to the Ancar border – they wanted to stay close to Ruvan and Jkatha for the first few months of their contract to ensure they had an escape route ready,” Jaina grimaced, “Not that I can blame them.”
“That batch?” Seras snorted, “I’m amazed they even considered a contract, they were actually directly involved in the whole fake-bandit mess a decade and change ago and Brynhild was a nightmare, my only regret is I never got to her myself.”
“You know, if Markov comes back, we could pass off the alcohol that Demon Rider is owed to him,” Colbern mused aloud.
Kir wasn’t the only one to double-take at that, but Anur was the one to actually speak, asking warily, “I’m sorry, what?”
“Oh it’s a favor-swap of sorts we had with – ah. Like-minded colleagues. We’re all that’s left, at this point, but the priests and priestesses that were particularly bothersome to eliminate but definitely in need of it got assigned values, and whoever got them without getting caught themselves received an appropriately rare or valuable bottle of alcohol. When we got word of Brynhild’s death by Demon Rider, we set aside a bottle of appropriately priced wine as a joke – but I don’t think either of us have drank it or given it to someone else, and with Markov living in Valdemar it’s entirely possible to have him pass it on!”
“I rather think they wouldn’t drink it, assuming it poison or some such,” Henrik pointed out.
“Also, Markov would never agree to stick around and watch their facial expressions, which would be half the fun,” Anur added.
“True, true,” Colbern agreed mildly, changing the subject and ignoring the narrow eyed looks more than a few of them were sending his way, “Anyway, Laskaris. He’s definitely supposed to arrive today at some point, he prefers to have leeway in his schedule so he wouldn’t plan a route that had him arriving tomorrow, but who knows what part of the day he’ll be riding in.”
“Regardless, if he shows up and finds out we’ve started asking questions that prompt stories without him, he’ll be furious,” Lumira repeated, Valerik offering the Sun in Glory to Fabron who shrugged as he accepted it for a brief second look before passing it off to Tristan.
Kir left the others to their examination – he should have expected it, sun blessed steel was still a rarity, and this piece was a conglomerate of sun blessed steel and regular metals, yet even the regular metals had an odd sheen in the right lighting, particularly around the sides with the carving of one of their Order’s older prayers. Aside from even that, Rodri had designed and made this, and while he was still very young, to anyone with eyes it was clear he had far better than even odds of one day becoming their Incendiary.
It was just as well he hadn’t gone through with the sun blessed steel arrowheads as gifts for the Firestarters – with Maltin’s rather dramatic connection to the steel, it would be a definite safety hazard until they had a better grasp of what exactly the sacred steel could do.
“Maltin,” he said, waiting for the student to look up from his hands running through Kari’s fur before he continued carefully, “Can you still hear it?”
The teen nodded, eyes darting to whichever Firestarter held the piece now and practically wincing.
Kir hummed thoughtfully, because it was interesting that he could hear the Sun in Glory, but didn’t seem to pick up on Rodri’s bracelet or Anur’s small pouch of arrowheads. Part of that could simply be how much louder or distinctive the Sun in Glory was, or lack of experience on Maltin’s part, but was he even aware of the fact those other arrowheads were in the area? Perhaps he needed to know there was something to listen to before he could perceive it.
Drumming his fingers on his knee for a moment, he stilled them and said, “Right. If you’re up for it, I would like to confirm that whistle trick works to end the flames. So long as you can stop them, we can take some time to research and think over what we already know before progressing. I, for one, want to consult the Flamesinger records.”
“He didn’t leave a journal, more’s the shame but perhaps the contemporary Incendiary’s logs and his monographs on lyricism hold references,” Seras muttered, Etrius responding with other suggestions in a low tone. Kir smiled faintly, because he recognized the titles they were suggesting and agreed with them entirely, and let his own attention remain on Maltin and Kavrick, both looking grim and nervous at the thought of bringing those golden flames back.
“I’ll call on them,” Kir said, smiling ruefully, “We’ll see if realizing how little of their song I was perceiving before this gives me better control of them, but as it is I can at least avoid calling quite so dramatic a firestorm. Rodri?”
Looking over his shoulder, he managed to avoid frowning only because that would give his student the wrong idea, but Rodri looked far more subdued than the circumstances warranted and had apparently been answering Tristan’s questions on the Sun in Glory’s forging with little of the enthusiasm he’d shown any other time the topic was brought up.
“Yes, Father Kir?” Rodri asked, perking up slightly at his regard, which was as confusing as it was heartening, to be honest.
“I’d like you to listen for this too,” he continued, before huffing a laugh and saying, “Without concentrating too hard, mind, unless you’ve managed to not murder any rosebushes in the past moons.”
“Define murder,” Rodri said, coughing into his hand at the chuckles that remark netted, nodding and saying, “I’ll see if I can hear it, Father Kir. I can always hear sun blessed steel, when I can see it or know it’s there.”
“Now there’s an idea,” Kir muttered, realizing he hadn’t been taking advantage of Rodri’s evident predilection for sun blessed steel, not in the context of getting him regularly listening without setting things on fire on accident. He’d have to think over potential exercises.
Ignoring Rodri’s wary glance – it was entirely undeserved, despite Anur’s snicker – he let his eyes slide half-shut as he gave the so very light touch those golden flames needed, and when they shimmered into being over his and Anur’s skin he focused first on ensuring they weren’t expanding further and then tried to properly listen. It took a moment – it was something out of range, out of his reach, until he finally managed to convince himself it was there, he knew it was there and then –
He exhaled slowly, opening his eyes fully as the golden licks of fire condensed down to a familiar cord tangled between his fingers, following the motions of his hand as he worked the first of the cat’s cradle sequence, the cord moving for all the world as if there was an invisible set of hands working the fire-string with him.
There wasn’t, of course, it was all his mind and his hands were moving entirely independent of the flames, only following the motions the flames implied because it was meditative and excellent practice on not burning flesh despite close proximity.
He was glad Rodri had adopted this exercise as an ultimate goal – it was a fond thought that maybe one day the two of them could have enough control, and enough synchronity, to actually play cat’s cradle with a cord of fire.
Slipping his fingers free of the cord, he collapsed it into an orb before letting it take a relatively free-form shape above his hands. When he was confident that was steady, that he wasn’t going to lose hold of it, he looked at Maltin and Kavrick – the latter looked flabbergasted, which was fair enough he hadn’t exactly performed these flashy exercises in front of everyone before and they were hard to describe verbally. Maltin just looked terrified.
“Think you can find that whistle again?” he asked patiently.
Maltin’s hands were shaking in Kari’s fur, but he took a deep breath and nodded nonetheless, brow furrowing as he quietly tested tones. It was fascinating to feel the fire flare and dull against his senses in direct response to Maltin’s whistling, even if his low volume and lack of intent was keeping the reaction relatively small. He hadn’t paid enough attention to Maltin’s flames to know if all fires he worked were so sensitive to his music, but he rather doubted it. The clashing whistle to put the fires out wouldn’t be such a surprise if that was the case.
He had so many questions.
Finally, Maltin seemed to decide he had the right one, and let loose a piercing whistle just a little different from the last one, but it did the exact same job and the golden flames Kir had held dancing in the air vanished like they had never been.
He could still hear scraps of their tune though – he suspected he would always be able to, now, much as he always heard the potential for fire underlying everything.
At least now he was properly hearing them though, Sunlord no wonder he had such trouble controlling them earlier, he'd only been hearing and working with part of the entire chorus and leaving the others by the wayside to do what they wanted until he brought his attention to bear on them – and undoubtedly let the ones he had already quieted loose again.
“Well done,” he said sincerely, smiling at Maltin’s painfully obvious relief, “Very well done indeed.”
Checking the angle of the sun, he raised an eyebrow and clapped his hands together briskly as he stood, “Right! Anur and I actually need to unpack, we never quite managed that, and if I could have that Sun in Glory back, Jaina. Maltin, Kavrick, we’ll need to set up a time starting tomorrow to work with these flames, after some of the archives have been consulted, and if someone wouldn’t mind ensuring Laskaris is caught up on this whenever he arrives I would appreciate it. Rodri – with us, please, I’d like to discuss an idea I just had.”
Not true, not really. But Rodri was still more subdued than his usual, Anur had murmured something about potentially bruised ribs, and he had a suspicion as to what this was about. Rodri had been the one to point out that the Sun in Glory sang, and had been watching Maltin’s initial examination of the piece with quite a bit more intent than could be considered expected.
Even if he hadn’t been hoping Maltin could hear that song, had perhaps guessed that he would be able to influence flames through music and steel in some way, the fact that Rodri was the driving force behind crafting the piece that had triggered this firestorm could be more than enough for guilt.
No one looked askance at the statement though, and Rodri reached his side at the same moment Jaina handed the Sun in Glory over. Settling it around his neck, he made to turn to Rodri and go but Jaina’s hand on his arm gave him pause and he met her gaze curiously.
She smiled, saying, “Before we keep plunging inexorably forward – the visit went well?”
Kir didn’t bother hiding his smile, and knew Anur was echoing it. Worries for the future aside, worries for how the next reforms would hit his family, the mere fact that he was worried about that, that he could worry about that, was reason enough for his answer.
“The visit went fantastically.”
“So does that count as accidental discovery or a student being in the middle of it?”
“Both – so you’re the one stuck with all the chores at the moment, Lukas.”
“Oh please, this is only the first page of the letter, I like my odds just fine!”
“Devin, put that paper back on my desk! You can take notes later!”