Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It started with the sun.

Once upon a time, a single drop of sunlight fell from the heavens. And from this small drop of sun grew a magic golden flower.

Centuries later, a hop, skip, and a boat ride away grew Blumenthal, the valley of the flowers. Then a kingdom raised itself around it. The Empire of Corona had a beloved king and queen, and the queen was about to have a baby.

But she got sick. Really sick.

She was running out of time, and that's when usually people start to look for a miracle. Or in this case, a magic golden flower.

The king sent all his men looking for the mythical flower, praying that it was more than just a legend. The search went on for a few grueling days until a guard found a grove of pointed green shards jutting from the earth.

In the middle of the translucent shards sat the sun drop flower, emanating heat and light. The captain of the guard dug it from the ground, ash coating their hands, and returned it to the castle. With moments to spare the flower was turned into a potion and fed to the dying queen.

She coughed as it went down, gasping for breath, and for a moment they all worried it had killed her. The kingdom as a whole held its breath.

Then the queen sucked in air, and the embers in her eyes rekindled, and they knew the magic of the flower had worked.

A healthy baby was born, with hair the color of dancing flame and eyes the shade of cracking ice. The queen could not speak over the ashes in her throat, but tears burned at the corner of her eyes as she held her baby safely in her arms.

To celebrate the successful birth, the king and queen launched a flying lantern into the sky. For that one moment, everything was perfect.

And then, that moment ended.

There were many who wanted to use the sundrop’s power for their own, and some saw it inevitable that the child disappeared, stolen from their cradle in the night before they were even a week old.

The kingdom searched, and searched, but they could not find the child. The captor was determined to keep him hidden.

But the walls of that tower could not hide everything. Every year on their birthday, the king and queen released thousands of lanterns into the sky in hopes that one day, they would return.

Nearly twenty one years later, Bren woke up alone again at the very top of Ambition’s Call. The sun’s light caught on the edge of the round window in his ceiling and fell directly into his eyes. He allowed himself to wait a few moments, soaking in the early morning, until a heavy weight settled itself onto his chest.

He blinked his eyes open and looked at the cat making itself at home over his lungs. They stared at each other until Frumpkin had had enough and began batting at Bren’s face.

Bren snorted. He tried to gently shove his familiar out of the way and sit up. The cat rolled on its side, miserable and defeated, and Bren got prepared to start his day.

He rubbed the back of his neck and summoned his mage hand to reach for his hairbrush. The process was always arduous, and he only ever had the energy to do it when he spent the whole time projecting his consciousness into Frumpkin.

Bren asked his cat to move out of his cramped bedroom. Frumpkin wasted no time sprinting across the hardwood floors to cause messes Bren would undoubtedly have to clean before father returned home. His hands moved as he watched Frumpkin bat at the loom he hadn’t had the embroidery floss to work on for weeks now, depicting a halfway arranged night sky, forever frozen at the bottom of the first light.

He had been fascinated by the lights since he first noticed them. He had been young when he compared the large swaths of diffused candlelight to the star patterns he memorized by heart. Frumpkin glanced up at the domed ceiling of the tower where Caleb had tracked the stars since he could hold a brush. He directed Frumpkin to move onto something else before he thought about it too hard. He could not get too into his head before he asked, not when this could be his only chance.

Frumpkin jumped down directly on the hand-knitted blanket Bren had almost made three feet long and disturbed the loops. Bren sighed. Maybe it wasn’t the best idea to leave his crafts where the cat could reach them, but at least it gave him something to do besides withering away from boredom.

The familiar got bored himself soon enough and padded his way over to the little kitchen. He wormed his way into a cabinet and placed one paw on a preserved can of tuna with a mrrp? Bren rolled his eyes and pulled back into himself. He wrestled his hair back and tied it off so it was out of his face before rolling to his feet.

He went to open the can of tuna and placed it down on the windowsill. Frumpkin jumped up after it and started gnawing away at the mushed fish. Bren brushed his hand through the cat’s soft fur and leaned against the cold stone, gazing out at the morning sky.

It was a very common sight for him, the only glimpse of the outside world he tended to get, but it never ceased to amaze him. The sun rose in front of the window where it sat on the east wall. A bright yellow and pink disseminated into the soft blue of the sky. Trees swayed in the autumn breeze, the foliage stretching all the way to the horizon. Birds and deer and all sorts of creatures were waking up fully out of his reach, but the distance didn’t have an impact on the comforting feeling that he wasn’t alone in this world.

He wondered for a moment, as he often did, what it would be like to live out there. He could only imagine the wood and stone constructs depicted in his storybooks, the castle he had seen once in a sketch in Wulf’s book. He imagined what it would be like to be out there, feeling the sun on his face and the wind in his hair. He dreamed of a life where father found a way to keep him safe in a cottage in the village, where he could talk to more than three people. Where he could attend festivals and dance himself silly. Where he could try foods he didn’t make and make some terrible decisions on his own terms. Where he could meet someone and fall in love, just like in those truly awful paperbacks Wulf insisted on bringing him. Where he could learn new magic he was interested in and help people directly.

Frumpkin meowed at him, and Bren realized he had zoned out long enough for the cat to get to his room and back. Bren hissed at his familiar when he recognized the spell scroll in his mouth. He commanded the cat to drop it and picked the fine paper up.

Asa had brought it last time she visited, he just… hadn’t had time to copy it down. He was saving it for a time when he knew Ikithon would be gone for as long as it would take to transcribe, and his schedule had been too erratic recently for Bren to be comfortable. Frumpkin yowled at him, shoving his face into Bren’s side.

“What do you want?” he whispered, mostly to himself. The cat squinted at him in response. It hopped back up on the lip of the window and pointed with one soft paw towards the treeline. Bren tutted at him and turned away. “Cut that out. We can not leave, you know that.”

Frumpkin let out a puff of air. The cat dangled himself dangerously out of the window as if he was prepared to make the long jump down. Bren pulled him back, the creature resembling more of a liquid as it ragdolled in his arms. “If you do not want to be here I can just send you home.” Frumpkin meowed pathetically and Bren held him close to his chest.

Of course he wanted to leave. He would love little more, especially with the day of the lights coming up. But the tower was made to keep him safe, and keep the people safe, and he could help the people like this. So he would not leave. Not alone at least.

Maybe he could convince one of the scourgers to take him.

Essek slid around the corner without a sound, floating three inches above the tiled floor of the palace. The scourgers tiptoed a few feet to the left of him, keeping an eye on the palace guards.

Astrid motioned to Eadwulf to take care of something. A few moments later, she waved Essek towards the back entrance of the room. He sped along silently without another glance.

An ornate door led him into a stomach-churningly opulent room, built for the sole purpose of staying sealed at all times. Gold and bronze filigree were everywhere, the walls, the ceilings, the floor: he had to take a moment to compose himself before stepping in.

There is no chance the guards would notice Essek with the way he had made himself invisible to the eye and imperceptible to the ear, but Astrid and Wulf moving their unconscious bodies to a corner gave another level of assurance.

Part of them wished they hadn’t. He hadn’t really had a true challenge since he had stolen the beacons, and his skills were getting rusty.

Ah well. What’s done is done.

Essek moved up to the podium in the center of the room. No one had even gone to the effort to magically ward the crown.

Essek had done some research on the target before agreeing. The crown was commissioned when the queen learned she was pregnant, a grandiose little thing whose value only skyrocketed after the whole sundrop debacle and the child’s subsequent disappearance. Instead of accepting the tragedy and moving on, the king and queen spent money that could've been used on the kingdom on lining the pockets of incompetent and unnecessary guards.

It took no effort at all to walk up to the crown and replace it with a fake. Astrid could not see him, but her eyes tracked the crown’s movement. She nodded towards the door to the exit.

Not needing to be told twice, Essek placed the crown in his scry-proof lead lined satchel. He held the whole bag with both hands to reduce any noises of shifting and stealthed out to the open air garden between there and the exit, feeling Astrid’s eyes burn holes into his back as he went.

Exactly two minutes later, Astrid stormed to their meeting spot with Eadwulf at her side. She looked pointedly at her companion. Essek could feel the moment Eadwulf sensed him ten feet away. Essek walked up to his side, and Eadwulf strided towards the exit to the palace. Astrid followed shortly behind.

In what felt like no time at all, they were out. Essek couldn’t hold back a smile. This may have been a fairly simple heist, but his cut of the money could really do something in getting him the fuck out of his dealings with the assembly.

It was early, and the sun was burning Essek’s eyes, but it was shaping up to be a very big day.

At the bridge separating Blumenthal from the woods, Eadwulf placed a heavy hand on Essek’s still invisible shoulder.

“Pass it over,” Astrid spat at the air, muffled by the covering on her face. Before Essek could even try to hand it off, Eadwulf slid it off his shoulder with one hand.

“Why can’t I hold it?” Essek asked (more of a whine than intended). “I will be least likely to drop it before we get to the Nip.”

“You cannot be trusted.” Astrid grabbed the bag from Eadwulf and started heading into the trees. “Come along now. Ikithon will not be happy if we are late to our lessons, and I am more than happy to give him someone to blame.”

Bren cradled Frumpkin in his arms like the cat was a baby as he paced around. One hand was buried in his cat’s long fur. He walked in a small circle and changed directions on every rotation in the hopes that it would (hopefully) not disrupt his hair further. He may have been walking a hole into the floor, but at least that might get him a step closer to his goals.

He stared up at the domed ceiling of Ambition’s Call.

Ever since he was young, Bren had loved watching the stars. And with his perfect memory, analytical mind, and ample free time at night, it only made sense that he would start charting the sky.

The ceiling was smattered with imitations of the cycles of the universe, all smudging into each other over the years. The stars were consistent. They followed patterns, they were gradual in their movements, they were dependable. All unlike the lights that appeared every year on exclusively one day.

They had to mean something, Bren knew it. He just needed to see them closer and he would be able to figure them out too.

He paused his walking and held Frumpkin up to his face with a hand under each shoulder.

“This is a very big day, Frumpkin.”

His cat looked unimpressed. Bren frowned.

“I am serious, my little friend. I am going to do it today. I am going to ask.”

Frumpkin let out a doubtful yet supportive mrrp. Bren spun him around and held him under his chin so he did not have to watch his familiar’s expressions.

“This is the best chance I will ever have. It has to work. I cannot simply-”

Bren’s breath caught for a moment when he made the mistake of imagining being trapped in the tower alone forever. Frumpkin yowled at him. Bren took a deep breath in, letting it out slowly as he spoke.

“This is the best chance I may ever have. It has to work.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Frumpkin nuzzled under his chin. Bren could not help the grin that came to his face.

A calm quiet settled over the tower.

Then came the whistle of a bird that Bren knew perfectly well was not associated with any bird. He leaned out of the window to see Ikithon waiting on the grass far, far below.

He closed his eyes. “Here goes nothing.”

He mournfully undid the tie, then pushed his hair over the hook and out, listening until he heard the satisfying plop of it on the ground. Frumpking meowed at him insistently before he could begin pulling. The spell scroll sat in his jaws again.

Bren tsked at him and motioned for his room on the second floor. “I know. Not now. Just go hide it somewhere. And don’t let him see you!”

Frumpkin huffed before scampering up the stairs.

A matter of time later, father stepped up the windowsill with a small red bag in his hand, clearly lost in thought, until his eyes caught on Bren. A wide grin cracked his face.

“Welcome home,”

“Good morning Bren.” Ikithon scanned the room for inconsistencies and seemed satisfied with his search. He pulled off his outer cloak and settled it across his chair. “How are you feeling? It must be so exhausting to do that day after day, without fail.”

Bren brightened at the compliment. “I am well. It- it is nothing, really.”

“If that’s the case, it truly should not take so long.” Ikithon walked around, facing away from Bren. His nerves rose with every passing moment of silence.

He cleared his throat. “And… how are you feeling?”

Ikithon plopped into another chair. “Tired. The fools I work with have no clue what they are doing.”

Bren hummed nervously, not sure how he was supposed to respond. His fingers tapped against the sill.

Ikithon squinted at him. “What were you doing?”

Bren’s mind scrambled to find a believable answer. His crafts were all on the other end of the room, there was clearly nothing cooking, he was still by the open window with an opened can of tuna on the ledge. “Ah, just. Watching the sunrise.”

They looked at each other for a moment before Ikithon caught on to the can.

After holding his breath long enough that Bren was a little worried he would pass out, Ikithon spoke up. “At least clean up after yourself. No one is going to do it for you.”

Bren wasted no time pushing off from where he was leaning and throwing the empty container away.

When it was disposed of, father beckoned him with one hand. Bren went through the motions of grabbing his coat, hanging it, and plating and serving the oats he made the night before. Ikithon made quick work of his meal. It was still long enough that Bren started to worry about the best way to expel his anxious energy without his cat at his side. He decided to brush his fingers through his own hair instead, which proved to be a problem when it immediately got snagged on a knot.

Father pushed away from the table fast enough for the little bowl to rattle, and Bren brought himself back to attention. “So-” he blurted out before really being aware he was speaking. Ikithon raised an eyebrow. Bren gulped.

“So,” he continued, arms clasped behind his back. “As you know, my birthday is soon. Tomorrow actually. And-”

Ikithon quickly shifted his attention to the floor length mirror pushed against the wall. He beckoned Bren with one finger to stand in front of him. Bren did not hesitate.

Ikithon placed a hand on his shoulder and directed his chin to glance at himself in the mirror. “Bren, look. What do you see?”

Bren frowned. He didn’t see anything different from the usual. He had forgotten to shave that morning, and a tiny bit of stubble was starting to form, maybe that-

“Do you want to know what I see?” Ikithon asked. Bren nodded quickly. “I see a powerful, skilled, confident young man.”

Bren felt his face start to redden. Real compliments were just so rare from him, especially ones that were not-

“Oh!” Ikithon continued, pinching Bren’s cheeks. “It appears you are here too.”

Father gave his head one pat before moving back into the main area of the room. Bren rubbed at his cheeks in a useless attempt for the embarrassment not to show. He let out a little laugh.

“So!” Bren tried to figure out the best way to restart the conversation he wanted to have. “Ah, tomorrow is a big day for me, and-”

“Bren, I am tired. Would you sing for me?” Ikithon reclined on the plush armchair where he always sat.

“Ah, of course.” Bren looped his hair around his wrist a few times to make it easier to move to the footstool. Ikithon took a section of it into his own hands and relaxed as it started to pulse with energy. Bren tried to keep the cadence to the song stable, but either excitement or nerves sped him up. When it was completed, Ikithon pulled away quickly like Bren would pull away from a hot pan.

“Bren-” Ikithon started. Bren cut him off before he could lose his nerve again.

“So as I was saying, tomorrow is my birthday and-”

“No, no, no. That’s not right. That was last year.”

Bren blinked a few times, trying to determine if this was another joke. “Well, ah. It is kind of a yearly thing, from what I understand. But anyways, I am turning twenty one years old tomorrow, and I wanted to ask...” He took a deep breath. “So what I want for my birthday, or, well really what I have wanted for every birthday-”

Ikithon made a dismissive motion with his hand. “Stop mumbling. I cannot be expected to hear what you are saying when you talk like that. It’s very annoying.”

Bren refocused again. He made a conscious effort to keep his tone even. “I want to see the floating lights.”

Something shifted in my father's face. It scared Bren, but he was determined to push on. “...What?”

“I wish to see the floating lights.”

Ikithon put a hand on his chest. “Oh, you mean the stars?”

Bren tamped down his irritation. Surely father did not mean for it to sound so patronizing. “Well, that is the thing. They are not stars. I have charted the stars for years.” He motioned to the ceiling with his diagrams of the universe. “The stars are constant. They are gradual. The lights come from below, they move, and they only ever appear one day a year, on my birthday. Only on my birthday.”

Bren looked down to his hands. “I need to see them father. In person, not from my window. I know if I see them closer, I will be able to understand. I can feel it.”

Ikithon stood, towering over Bren. “You want to leave this tower?” he asked, words dripping with something poisonous.

Bren nodded slowly. “I- yes. Just for one day, at your side, from a distance I just- I need to see it.”

Father pulled him to his feet. “Listen to me, my flower. You will not be safe out there. Do you know how many people would kill or worse to have you? Eternal life and painful death and the secrets to sorcery in one easy package.”

“I-”

Ikithon circled him like a vulture. “Do you know what I have to protect you from? Do you know how often my scourgers have killed to keep you safe?”

Bren held his breath. He held his wrapped arms together as carefully as possible so he would not begin to scratch.

“What do you think is out there?” Ikithon asked, rhetorically. “Do you want to know what is out there?” He threw his hands up. “Humans, yes, but monsters too. Beings with teeth like knives. Spawn of demons. Creatures from other worlds. Religious fanatics.” He took Bren’s chin in his hand. “You are not ready. You are naive. You are fragile. You are only safe here.”

Bren blinked quickly, forcing himself to not show any of the weakness he felt.

Ikithon’s other hand gently brushed along Bren’s hair gently in contrast. “Just stay here with me. Maybe one day you will be prepared for that, but not now. You have so much more growing to do. So much more we need to learn before you risk your life and the lives in the kingdom doing something foolish to see some stars.”

Bren nodded at the floor, hating the way it felt like he was burning up inside. Frumpkin would be so disappointed.

With a shake, Ikithon made sure Bren was looking at him before he continued. “Do not ever ask me to leave this tower again. I will decide that. Do you understand?”

Bren swallowed around the lump in his throat. “Yes father.”

Ikithon leaned back, softening his hold. “Very well. You know I love you, right my flower?”

“Yes, father.” Bren forced himself to relax. “I love you more.”

Ikithon laughed. He stood to grab his coat. “I love you most.” He threw the cloak over his shoulders and reached for some components from the cabinet. “I have some meetings I need to attend. The scourgers are out, please do not bother them for non-emergencies.”

Father walked back to the window, and secured himself to the hair for the descent. “I will see you in a bit.”

Bren smiled as best he could in that state. “I… I will be here.”

Essek stumbled back, stopping in his tracks to focus on the paper nailed to a tree. The scourgers came to a stop a few feet ahead of him. Their heads swiveled to look for a threat before refocusing on him.

“What is it?” Eadwulf asked, brow furrowed.

Essek frowned at his wanted poster, one of his fangs slipping over his bottom lip. “Do you really think I look like this?” He motioned at the picture. It far overemphasized the size of his teeth, and the face twisted in anger. It depicted him with small eyes that did not reflect the light and a broken nose that Essek had never received. “I mean, this is truly-”

Essek was cut off by the larger scourger unceremoniously tossing him over his shoulder. He huffed and rolled around to see Astrid behind them.

“You could have just said yes,” Essek said between breaths. She squinted at him but made no response.

“You are too easily distracted, Shadowhand. Too slow.” Eadwulf responded. Astrid activated her tattoos and started picking up speed.

Essek kept himself occupied while he was unable to move of his own volition by trying to start a conversation with Astrid. “Why do I never see you on wanted posters?”

“We are good at our jobs,” she responded between pants.

Essek held a hand to his chest in mock shock. “Now, that’s just hurtful. I haven’t made it this far to be slandered like this.” He looked down at the grass rushing by under Eadwulf’s feet. “Would the poster be technically libel? Do wordless images have different rules?”

“What is wrong with you?” Astrid spat back.

Essek shrugged as best he could with his whole body being jostled. “Probably all the not being loved as a child. Maybe all the crimes. Maybe there’s some vitamin deficiency I can blame. Maybe-”

“Do you ever stop spewing bullshit?”

Essek smiled. “You are one of the few with the opportunity to experience it.”

Astrid summoned her shimmery green mage hand with a huff. Essek only saw it for a moment before it slapped his head to the side. She started running faster to keep up with Eadwulf instead.

“Play nice,” the larger man said to the both of them, unfairly unaffected by the physical exertion.

The scourgers (and by extension, Essek) came to a stop. Essek patted Eadwulf’s shoulder. “You can let me down now.”

Essek straightened himself out, then turned to see the sheer face of a cliff.

“Well!” He said to the scourgers when they started their ascent. “Push me up and I’ll lift you both.”

Astrid squinted at him. “Why should we trust you?”

“You shouldn’t.”

Eadwulf laughed before kneeling down to give Essek a lift. Essek scrabbled to the top and took in a breath.

“Any time now,” Astrid shouted.

Essek turned to smirk down at her. He opened his wristpocket to pull out the satchel that he had stolen from Eadwulf after annoying his partner enough that she stopped watching him. “Sorry, my hands are full.”

He dodged out of the way of some curses and several thrown knives as he delved further into the woods.

Essek dashed through the forest, going as fast as his tired body and levitation cantrip would take him. The sounds of the scourgers were fading into nothing behind him, but he knew better than to ever assume he was safe, even if he timed his escape perfectly to leave the two of them with no power left to ramp up their speed. He left no footprints floating stealthily through the foliage and put the prize back in the wristpocket.

He only stopped to catch his breath once he reached the apex of a hill. When he moved again, he was immediately bowled over by a flash of blue. All the air was knocked out of Essek’s chest with the snap of a quarterstaff. He held his hands above him on instinct. “Stop! I don’t have it!”

The form of Beauregard solidified over him. She looked unimpressed. “And why should I believe you this time?”

Essek scrambled for an excuse. “I… would know better than to get caught with it?”

Beau stared at him. “Fine. Even if I do believe you, why shouldn’t I take you in for all your other crimes?”

“What would you do with all your time if you weren’t busy trying to get me?” Essek grinned enough to show his eyeteeth.

Beau twisted Essek’s arm, holding him in place as she searched for the crown. “I don’t know. Probably actually get somewhere in life.”

“And where’s the fun in that?”

Beau squinted at him.

“Well, I should be going-” Essek said. Beau, either through incompetence or a lack of actually wanting to stop him, did not cover his mouth in time to stop the arcane word for misty step.

“This isn’t innocent behavior!” Beau yelled, now thirty feet away. “Are you fucking kidding me? Fucking wizards.”

Essek knew he did not have enough time to banter if he was going to hide somewhere before she caught up. She would not be so easily exhausted. He could hear the monk running full force, even faster than the scourgers possibly could. He was considering using another misty step, or maybe dropping a higher level slot on some haste, when he ran into another sheer cliff edge. He turned back to smile at Beau.

Her face twisted in confusion, until she realized a moment too late that Essek was jumping off. “Goddamnit- wait!”

Essek waved to her as he fell directly down the steep drop. If her mentor had come with her, Essek would be in trouble. Luckily, all Beau would accomplish following him was falling to her death. She stayed at the cliff edge cursing him out, and for a moment with air rushing out of his lungs, Essek wondered if there was a situation where she and Astrid could be friends.

Seconds before his body would hit the ground, Essek misty stepped again a few feet to the side, negating his momentum. Then for good measure, in case Beau had actually gained the ability to slow fall, he cast the spell one more time to get himself through some densely foliaged cover.

He waited exactly three minutes to see if anyone was following before letting his guard down. Essek turned around to look for some little alcove he could make camp until his spell slots returned.

Instead, he could not stop himself from looking up. A massive tower made of semi-translucent black stone and solid brick towered over him, separated from the outside world by towering cliffs somehow higher than the structure on every side.

Towers were bad news. The only people that built things like this tended to have a lot of power and very little to do with it.

They also tended to have expensive components and spell scrolls they might not miss.

Essek was a great thief, magic or no. He could just… take a look around. He had been getting low on things Blumenthal did not keep in large untraceable quantities and was trying to avoid more debt to the Assembly, if possible.

Gently floating and not touching anything, Essek examined the outside until he found a small door. It was protected only by an arcane lock and an alarm.

Essek dispelled them both and moved up the spiral staircase.

What felt like hours later, he peeked out from a trapdoor, careful to only touch anything with his mage hand. The room the stairs opened into was… surprisingly normal.

It was colorful, and bright, and intricate diagrams and paintings covered every bit of the walls. There was a cozy kitchen and a dining table set for two. More stairs led up to a second floor with branching rooms. Most strangely, giant piles of copper strands sat everywhere and interconnected through the whole room. It reminded him vaguely of a spider’s nest.

Maybe not the best place to stay, then. But he could see the open cabinet of components, and he couldn’t not take a look.

There were stockpiles meticulously separated out into honeycombs, and smaller bits of copper wire, and fleece, and- he pushed those aside to reach the supplies for higher level spells.

Crushed gems of all colors, two silver backed mirrors, and some spare tufts of fur. No pearls.

Essek sighed. He opened his wristpocket and started portioning out components that would not be missed into the satchel until he could find a better place to put them. He grabbed a hand mirror with his mage hand, tilting it around as he decided whether he could make a use for it.

He tilted it to again and caught a glimpse of a figure twenty feet behind him, staring with wide eyes.

They looked at each other for almost a minute before the stranger jolted. Essek realized only then that he did not have enough in him for a counterspell.

Luckily for him, the assailant seemed to not know that sleep was not useful against elves. Essek narrowed his eyes at them.

He started the somatics to his one offensive spell, calling frost to the edge of his fingertips. Hopefully that would be enough to-

Before he could finish the thought, a heavy weight fell on him from above. Some creature yelled and clawed at him and twirled around his shoulders so he could only catch glimpses of owlish eyes and the noise of rustling all around him.

He only barely pried the animal off of him when something solid slammed into the back of his skull, rendering him unconscious in only a moment.

Well. There goes his luck.

Chapter Text

Bren stared open-mouth at the man on the floor. It had been so long since Bren encountered a new person, and while the last time did not go well, there was something about the novelty of it that made him want to come closer.

He flinched at a noise before realizing it was his familiar. Frumpkin stood by the stranger’s head. The cat pawed at the bag and made a little noise again.

Right, he needed to disarm them. Part of him almost sent Frumpkin to get the sending stone to call Asa and Wulf in to deal with this instead until he remembered what father said.

I can do this, Bren thought. And a smaller, quieter part of him was determined to do it himself to prove that he could. Maybe then Ikithon would reconsider.

Bren picked up the unassuming satchel and flipped it around a few times. The stranger had been stealing components, but this looked too large to be functional as a component pouch.

Bren frowned down at the man. He really had no way to gauge how worried he should be about this person, besides the knowledge that he wasn’t one of the three people he was familiar with. He did not look like a peasant, Bren guessed, looking at the delicate designs at the ends of his robes. Yet the stranger also did not look put together enough to be with the Assembly. At least Bren was not worried that he had accidentally incapacitated one of father’s coworkers.

Frumpkin swatted at the bag, still meowing loudly. Right. Bren moved to put back the components in their specific places when he noticed something in the bag that had never been the cabinet.

He reached into the bag and pulled out a round… something, made of gold and jewels. Bren looked at the mirror and held it up to the light so he could see it from all sides. It was far too large to function as a bracelet or an anklet, especially on the lithe man that brought it. Bren held it to his neck. Even if there was a way to get it around his neck, it seemed like the pointed tips would dig into his chin uncomfortably.

Frumpkin jumped from the top of the cabinet (when did he get up there?) and secured himself around Bren’s neck. From his new vantage point, he batted at the crown of Bren’s head.

Wait, the crown-

Bren had never seen a crown in person. They had been described in a few of the silly books Wulf got him, but he could never imagine it would look like this.

He gently settled the circlet onto the top of his head, holding his breath the whole time.

It- it was beautiful. A little awkwardly sized, and the ornateness of it clashed heavily with his simple robes and the gangly angles of his body, but it was beautiful all the same.

For a moment, he imagined his father behind him again in the mirror.

Bren’s shoulders slumped. He glanced away before taking the- the thing off his head and putting it back in the bag. He moved the bag to the top shelf of the component cabinet without another glance.

With that out of the way, Bren focused on the figure on the floor again.

He would- Bren’s father would be back soon, Bren would need to get rid of the body. He raised a hand and called his fire to wrap around it.

He jumped at the feeling of fur brushing against his leg, only to see Frumpkin yowling at him again. Bren allowed the flames to fizzle out and frowned at his cat. “What do you want?”

Frumpkin walked over the stranger and hopped onto the windowsill. He mrrped again.

Bren followed him with light footsteps on the stone floor. “What is it? Is he back yet?”

The cat let out a frustrated noise. He batted instead towards the star charts on the ceiling, then out the open window again.

Bren’s nose scrunched up. “You heard father. We aren’t going. We will just get hurt.”

Frumpkin dipped low, in less of a bow and more of the last thing a mouse sees, and motioned at the figure on the ground. The stars. The window. Bren. The window.

Bren squinted. “I… should throw him out the window?”

Frumpkin responded with a low rumbling growl, and Bren raised his hands defensively. “Okay, not that. Heard loud and clear.”

Bren glanced back at the stranger, trying to gather what his familiar wanted him to understand. Even thoroughly unconscious, he was… well, Bren did not have a wide frame of reference, but he thought even like this the person was beautiful. They had soft looking white curls spread out around them. Their body had landed in a way that left the face unharmed, turned as if to look out at the forest beyond the tower. They had long, spellcaster’s fingers that-

That just went to show how dangerous this person is, and how badly Bren needed to kill them before they woke up and found that a fledgeling caster had bested him with a common household object.

Bren sucked in a breath as the realization hit him. He had single handedly taken down a wizard powerful enough to break into his father's tower before they could even cast anything in return.

He could feel Frumpkin rolling his eyes, but that did not stop Bren from starting to pace around to get the excitement out. “Wait, do- do you know what this means? If I show father that I did this, that I can take down a wizard, he would have to let me go, right? I have proof of my ability to defend myself.”

Frumpkin gave him a look that could have meant anything between I did most of that and still not my point, or maybe nothing at all.

“You are no help,” he told an affronted Frumpkin before snapping him out of the material plane.

Now alone in the room, Bren looked at the body again. They were still alive, their whole body shifting with the rise and fall of their breath. Father- father would be home soon, and Bren would not have time to explain before father saw the man on the floor.

Bren decided to move him. Make it a surprise.

It took longer than expected to fold up the man and stuff him in the bottom segment of the components cabinet, where he usually let Frumpkin sleep if there would be time to clean it after. He had just barely gotten the doors closed and shoved a chair under the handles to keep it still when he felt the tingle of a message entering his mind.

I am at the bottom of the tower, his father said. Bring me up quickly, the sunlight is not agreeing with me.

“Okay,” Bren whispered to himself, maneuvering his way across the floor to collect all of his hair. “Okay! This is- this will go well. There’s a person in my closet, and-” Bren blinked. “There’s a person in my closet!”

He let out a laugh, perhaps a little manic. He ran a hand through his hair to get rid of some of the nervous energy, and stopped immediately as he ended up pulling on a knot. “There is a spellcaster in my closet, and I took care of him all by myself. How can father tell me I am too weak to be out there on my own when I did something like that?”

He took a moment to glance at the cast iron pan that he used to make the blow. It- It maybe was not the best thing to use (there were several sharp objects in one of the rooms upstairs), but it was close by after he washed it that morning, and his panicked mind had convinced him that the iron in it would incapacitate them if they were a vampire. Or… was iron for werewolves?

Bren? Ikithon said in his mind again, slightly irritated. Let down your hair.

Right.

Bren sucked in a breath to steel himself, then maneuvered himself to the window. Shaking hands pushed piles of hair out and secured it to the loop above the exit. When he felt the tug signifying his father was secured to the bottom, he began to pull.

While Bren was straining himself tugging at the hair, he almost missed father talking to him. “I have a surprise for you,” he said, in a tone that Bren could not decipher.

“Oh, ugh-” Bren responded as best he could with the effort. “I do too.”

“I bet mine is bigger,” Ikithon said, almost… playful? Bren frowned, wondering why father would be in such a good mood.

“I doubt it,” Bren whispered, mostly to himself.

Bren made the last tug, and father leaned closer to step into the window, blotting out the sun. His cloak swished in the evening breeze as he entered the tower. A wicker basket rested on his arm, a nice red piece of cloth covering whatever was inside.

“I got some apples! Now you can make some of those tarts you like so much.” Bren could not deny that he felt a little jolt of excitement. It had been so long since he had the chance to enjoy a treat like that.

“I- thank you father,” Bren said as the cloth pulled back to reveal fruits in red and yellow and green. He allowed himself a moment to pick one of them up and focused on it as he spoke. “I also had something I wanted to speak with you about. I-”

“Bren,” his father said. Bren closed his mouth and looked up at him. Ikithon was not looking back. He instead sat back in his chair, hands rubbing at his temples. Anxiety started to grow in the pit of Bren’s stomach. “You know I hate leaving you after an argument. Especially when I have done nothing wrong.”

The edge of Bren’s mouth curled down. He held his arms behind his back. “I- It is okay, really.” Bren’s eyes darted towards the cabinet for a moment. “And I have been thinking a lot about what you said earlier, and-”

Father sighed. “I hope you aren’t still talking about the stars.”

Bren did his best to not cringe back. “Well… before you answer, yes, I am leading towards that. I-”

“Because I really thought we had dropped the issue, Bren.”

Bren’s eyes shifted back to where Ikithon was staring through him. “No, father, I was just saying that… well you said that I am not strong enough to handle myself. Out in the world.”

“I know that you are not strong enough to handle yourself out there, Bren.”

Bren felt anger pushing past the anxiety, rising to his chest. He couldn’t help motioning with his hands as he spoke, restless energy growing in him, a voice that sounded a lot like his cat telling him that if he could just make father understand-

“But if you just- I have something-”

“Bren, we are done talking about this.”

“Just trust me! I am-”

“Bren.”

“I know what I-”

“Bren.”

Bren watched his father rise to his feet, anger curdling in his features. Bren hated when he did that, hated the way it made him feel like he was a child again, despite being taller than his father now. “Please, I just need to show you-”

Father walked up to Bren, backing him against the table until Bren’s instincts could not move him further. His voice dripped with something heavy and dangerous, growing in volume as he spoke. “Bren. You are NOT leaving this tower. Ever.”

Bren hated the way his breathing went shallow, like he was a rat that Frumpkin pinned down. He couldn’t speak, the breath was not reaching the bottom of his lungs, and he was remembering in the moment how much painful magic his father carried in his hands.

A moment later, Ikithon pulled away. Bren collapsed down into a sitting position, holding his knees to his chest, the moment he had an inch of space. He forced himself to run through breathing exercises, trying to get himself under control-

Father slid to his knees in front of him, still a little bit away. Bren could not read his face. Ikithon took in the scene in front of him before his shoulders dropped with a roll of his eyes. “Great,” he said, loud enough for Bren to hear. “Now I’m the bad guy.”

Bren forced himself to be pleasant, to appear normal until his father left and he could curl up in his room. “I- sorry.”

Father sighed.

Bren looked up to meet his eyes. “...I know what I want for my birthday now.”

Ikithon tilted his head, one hand rubbing at his forehead. “And what is that?”

“Some new ink?” Bren asked. “The shimmery kind that you got a few years ago?”

Ikithon took a deep breath. “Bren, that is a very long trip. I do not have a circle there, it would be an almost three day journey.”

Bren looked back down. “I just thought it would be a better idea than the stars.”

The two of them sat in the silence for a moment.

“Are you sure that you’ll be alright? On your own?”

Bren tried to smile. “I… I know I am safe. As long as I’m here.”

Ikithon looked him over one more time. Then he motioned for Bren to stand and went back towards the window. “Very well then. I will be back in three days time.”

He looked back at Bren as he secured himself to the hair. “I’m proud of you, Bren. I love you very much.”

A strange feeling twisted in Bren’s gut. “I love you more,” he said, starting to slacken his hair.

“I love you most,” came the voice of his father from a few feet down.

Bren held his breath until the extra weight unattached itself from his hair. He held his breath for a few more moments, for good measure.

When he was certain his father was gone and would not be coming right back, he snapped his cat back into existence. Frumpkin yowled and crawled all the way up to Bren’s shoulders with his claws out the whole way. He finally settled around them like a scarf and began purring.

Bren tried to ignore the feeling of relief bubbling up in his stomach. He tried to ignore that some part of him worried that Frumpkin would still be mad at him, would run away on his own, would make Bren’s life a living hell. He did not want to think about how close he could have gotten to pushing away his only friend. Bren scratched Frumpkin under his chin and allowed the weight to bring his scattered mind back into his body.

He turned to look at the cabinet. Something would have to be done about the arcanist.

Bren did not want to kill him.

Bren put a hand on Frumpkin’s rump, petting slowly. Maybe… maybe this man could still help him see the lanterns.

“I am going to question him first,” Bren said to his cat. Frumpkin did not respond beyond continuing his purr.

Essek blinked back to consciousness slowly. His head felt like it had been held underwater for two long, and his vision swam with it.

Awareness came back with a shock, a solid breath of cold air wracking his lungs. He immediately tried to shift into a more defensive position. He… found he could not move. His wrists and ankles were strapped to a chair and he could not feel his hands. A heavy, vibrating weight held him in place further. He was well and truly stuck.

Essek ran through the spells he had prepared, trying to remember if anything with only a verbal component could be of use. There was… knock. And misty step. Neither of which he had the reserves to cast.

Essek was jolted from his thoughts by the sound of something moving. A lot of something. Something silky slid en masse across stone floors. Essek suddenly remembered that he’d been caught in a wizard’s tower, there could be any number of snakelike creatures in the room. He pulled a little harder, to no avail.

“Struggling… struggling is pointless,” came a young voice from a far side of the room. “I know why you’re here. I’m… I’m not afraid of you. I knocked you out before, I can do it again.”

Essek squinted in the direction of the voice. He had been worried about an ancient wizard, and this voice could not belong to someone older than their thirties. Maybe charm would do a great deal more here than he first expected. Easier to catch… spiders with honey?

“Who are you? How did you find me?” the voice asked, more confidently. Essek did his best to stay still. Maybe if they thought his hearing was impaired they would come closer, and Essek would at least know what he was dealing with.

When the voice came again, it sounded nearer, although Essek still could not see. “I asked you questions. Answer them.”

There was anger in that tone, and he decided it was probably best to not push his luck much further. He summoned all the charisma he had developed over the years. “I…” Essek coughed for exaggeration, hoping to get his captor to let their guard down. “I know not who you are. Nor how I came to find you. But may I just say…” Essek put on his most dashing expression. “Hello.”

He heard no response. Essek internally grimaced, maybe this wouldn’t work after all and he was making a fool of himself. Or maybe he needed to try harder, give something more substantial.

“The name is Dezran Thane. How’s it going?”

There was another moment of hesitation, then the voice spoke again. “Who else knows my location, Dezran Thane?”

Essek only let his charming smile slip for a moment. “I… feel like there might be some confusion here. I was simply in between a rock and a hard place, making my way through the woods. I saw your tower, and-” Essek couldn’t stop his eyes from widening, his hands uselessly trying to open his wristpocket. “Where’s my bag?”

“The one you were using to steal from my- from me?”

Essek scrunched up his nose. “Well, stealing is such a strong word-”

“You were taking things from me and putting them in your bag. I am pretty sure that word matches the situation.”

Essek nodded slowly. “Fine, potato potato, agree to disagree. That bag. Where is it?”

“...I confiscated it. I hid it. Somewhere you will never find it.”

Essek was suddenly very glad he had no use of his extremities and could not nervously mess up his hair. He glanced around the room, looking around moving piles he was determined not to think too hard about, scouring the place for any-

He looked at a perfectly sized vase sitting in the middle of the room for no apparent reason. “It’s in there, isn’t it?”

A thud echoed through his skull, and it all went dark again.

Bren watched as the stranger - Dezran - came back to consciousness with Frumpkin holding him still. The man’s long ears were twitching violently, and Bren worried for a moment if that had been too much.

“Can you stop doing that?” Dezran asked with his softly accented voice.

Bren had been rehearsing his next moves in his mind for too long to be distracted by that. “Now your bag is hidden somewhere you will never find it.” He watched as Dezran glanced around again. The arcanist slumped back in frustration, feeding Bren’s growing confidence. “So, what do you want? With my hair?”

Dezran just… stared at him, brows pinched. His violet irises reflected the low light, like Frumpkin’s did. The way that made it look like they were glowing.

Bren told himself not to fall for the act. “Are you planning on cutting it?”

“...What?”

“Or maybe you want to sell it?”

Dezran squinted in his direction. “Why would I care about your hair?”

“Well, you should know that- wait what?” Bren’s mental script derailed. “You… don’t care about my hair?”

Dezran shook his head. “The only thing I want to do with your hair is get out of it. I see now that coming here was a poor decision, and I won’t come back, but I promise I am not here for… whatever is going on with you.” He blew a curl of his own hair out of his face. “I was being chased, I saw a tower I could hide out in, I clearly made a mistake.”

One of Bren’s hands drifted to his wrapped forearm. Maybe he was stupid for considering believing this man. Maybe he was desperate. If anyone asked, Bren would say he only played along to get Dezran to let his guard down.

“...You’re telling the truth?”

Dezran rolled his eyes. When he spoke again, the top part of his body leaned into it. “Light, I- yes. What do you need me to swear on so you’ll believe me?”

Frumpkin yowled and Dezran shrieked, trying to get away. The cat crawled down Dezran with his claws out until he got to the counter behind Bren. He made another disgruntled noise.

“Yes, I know,” Bren hissed at his familiar. “I know, I’m working on it, I’m listening to you. Let me do this.”

Frumpkin huffed at him.

Bren turned back to his captive. This was… a monumentally bad idea. But his resolve had hardened, and Bren had concluded taking his chances with a thief and his father’s wrath was better than missing the lights again.

He stepped out from where he had been hiding from Dezran and into the light.

Essek held his breath when the sounds started again, lumps all over the room moving. The glint of the light on something bright brought his attention directly in front of him. A figure was walking towards him.

He… looked like a normal human. Essek was terrible at guessing human ages, but he had a feeling his earlier estimate was right. He was wearing standard house robes in a soft purple. His feet were bare and his hands were wrapped like Beauregard’s always were. Most notable was the fire red hair stretching from his head behind him, to the piles, like it was all one continuous thing. Which would be ridiculous. But Essek struggled to find another explanation.

Essek tried his best to make sure his voice was not strained when he spoke. “Is that all hair?”

“Dezran Thane,” said the man in front of him, instead of an answer. “I am prepared to offer you a deal.”

Essek felt his ear twitch. “A deal?”

The man pivoted almost perfectly ninety degrees. He pulled back a curtain covering a diagram made in metallic paint, only barely visible in the reflected light. “Look here. Do you know what these are?”

Essek took in all the details of the scene in front of him. There was a mass of golden rectangles, all dotted with bronze, drifting away. He had seen it many times before from below, but it was fascinating to imagine what it would look like from a vantage point this high up. “Do you mean the lantern thing they do for the princess?”

“Lanterns…” The man stared at the diagram. “I knew they were not stars.” Before Essek could unpack that, the figure stepped back towards him. “Well, tomorrow evening, they will light the skies with these lanterns. You will act as my guide, take me to see the lanterns, and return me home safely. Only then will I return your spoils. That is my deal.”

Essek sucked in breath through his teeth. “Yeah… sorry. I can’t do that. I’m not exactly in great standing with the kingdom. On the run, and all that. So I won’t be taking you anywhere.”

The man walked all the way up to the chair Essek was in. He pulled a strand of - Light, that can’t really be hair, right? - and knocked the chair off balance. He held it tight so Essek was fully disconnected with the ground and the two of them were face to face.

“Something brought you here, Dezran Thane,” he whispered. “Call it what you will, fate, destiny-”

“An accident that I will fully blame on the monk,” Essek interjected, too anxious to stay silent. Another tug destabilized the chair.

“So I have made the decision to trust you.” Sky blue eyes pierced through him with an intensity that made him want to look away.

“It’s a horrible decision, really.” Essek said instead.

“But trust me when I tell you this,” the man said, fully hunched over Essek. His eyes flared with something that reminded him more of waves thrashing against rocky cliffs. “You can tear this tower apart brick by brick, but without my help, you will never find your precious bag.”

They both let that hang in the air, looking into each other’s eyes, waiting for one of them to flinch.

Essek looked away first. If anyone asked, he would say it was to get the stranger to let down his guard.

“So, to be sure I understand. I take you to see the lanterns, take you back home, and you’ll give me my bag with all my things inside?”

Essek caught a glimpse of an unreadable emotion on the other man’s face. “Correct,” he replied, voice rough. “I promise. And when I promise, I never break that promise. Ever.”

Well, Essek thought. That makes one of us.

“Well…” Essek started. “Ah, actually I just realized I never got your name.”

The man frowned. “You don’t need to know my name.”

Essek held himself back from rolling his eyes. “I need something to call you, if we’re going to be traveling together.” It wasn’t like he had a choice. That crown was his key to freedom. Maybe he could charm his way into a powerful ally in the meanwhile.

The stranger’s eyes lit up. “Really?” He pulled back and the chair settled down on four legs with a thud. “I mean, of course. Right. You can… you can call me Caleb.” A few seconds after his statement, Caleb nodded.

“Caleb,” Essek repeated. It was clearly a name he came up with on the spot, but Essek was not in a position to judge. “Can you let me out now?”

Bren (no, Caleb, he was Caleb for now) freed his new traveling companion from his bonds, keeping an eye on him the whole way. He was doing it. He was going to leave. He could not hold his hands still with all the excitement.

Dezran shook out his hands and looked back up at Caleb. “So. Can you open the arcane lock? I’m afraid I used up my last knock breaking into this lovely establishment.”

Caleb tilted his head. “Ah, no? Father usually just uses that pathway for emergencies. I do not know how to use it.”

“Then how do you get out, usually?” Dezran asked, glancing around his room.

“I… don’t.” Caleb said quickly. He had grabbed a shoulder bag from his room and was packing it with the essentials for a journey. Bread, components… his hand hovered over the sending stone. Packed it, just in case.

Caleb walked over to the window and pulled back the curtain. “Usually my father uses this exit.”

Dezran blinked at him. “Your father… jumps out of the window?”

“What? No.” Caleb tugged on his hair to rig it up to the hook over the entryway. Dezran jumped out of the way as a pile moved behind him. When it was all out, he motioned to the hair with the hand not holding it still.

“He… let me get this straight, he climbs down your hair? This tower cannot be shorter than fifty feet. How does this not pull out all of your hair? How old is your father?”

Caleb smiled. “Yes. The tower is seventy feet tall. The hair can be very secure.”

Dezran looked at the hair. Back at Caleb. “I- no. You have to be joking.”

Caleb’s smile started to slip. “We do not have much time to get to the lanterns. We cannot just wait up here forever because you don’t believe me.”

Frumpkin headbutted the back of Dezran’s leg, pushing him towards the window. “Stop that. Stop. I can walk by myself.” When Dezran was an arm’s reach away from the makeshift rope, he looked up at Caleb.

Caleb could not deny that Dezran was quite handsome. Especially in the light, with his hair carefully fixed, his pupils shimmering the same color as flowers Bren had only seen far, far below.

“How are you going to get down?” Dezran asked.

“Ah,” Caleb responded intelligently. He was not skilled in climbing, and using his own hair would be dangerous without a counterweight. He looked to Frumpkin for answers.

The cat shrugged before beginning his ascent to Caleb’s shoulders.

“After you, I will…” Caleb swallowed. Dezran nodded for him to continue. “I will bring myself down with my hair. And then we will leave.”

Dezran looked like he wanted to ask about a hundred more questions, but instead looked down. “Well. See you at the bottom, either way.”

The arcanist looped a hand around the ginger hair. With only one solid breath, he started sliding down. Caleb leaned over the windowsill and watched the man hold tight all the way, until he landed in the soft grass below. He pulled something out of his pocket. Your turn, Dezran’s voice said directly into Caleb’s mind.

Caleb looked around his home one more time. He- it wasn’t goodbye. He would be back in a few days. No one would even know he had gone. There was no reason for the feeling of mourning settling in his chest.

Frumpkin purred heavily around his neck. Everything would be okay.

Caleb stepped off the windowsill and lowered himself down.

He realized his mistake quickly. The wind was strong outside of his little sanctuary. As he got to the halfway point, he noticed he was running out of hair. It had never occurred to him it was only long enough to go one way. He held tight to the end of it and squeezed his eyes shut. Tried to breathe his way out of the situation.

On his fourth breath, Dezran’s voice came into his head again. Do you need some help?

Caleb frowned. “How would you help? Is there something you can do?”

…In a way, came the response. But you will need to trust me and let yourself fall.

“What?” Caleb squeaked out. His head hurt more than ever before, and he was swinging like the pendulum in a clock, and he was realizing that he might be scared of heights? He barely held any control over himself in the best of cases, and now he had to give it all up?

He curled up on himself as much as he could in the current circumstance. He let go of his tenuous grip with one hand to snap Frumpkin out of existence before he fell to his death. His cat deserved better than to see that.

Caleb was not sure if he consciously let go with the other hand, or if the wind hit him too hard, or if the anxious sweat that made it difficult to snap had made it slip, but the next thing he knew, he was falling.

There was something peaceful about falling. A weightless feeling that came with gravity rocketing you towards the center of the planet. Caleb could finally see the sun in its entirety, and the roof of his tower, and the clear sky above. It was not a bad last view.

Wind whipped past his ears louder as he got closer to colliding with the ground, until all of a sudden, a counterbalance slowed him down. Caleb turned around to see Dezran holding into a spell, depositing him gently into the grass. It was quiet.

Then Dezran tugged Caleb out of the way of his own hair, crashing down behind him at maximum velocity. When all was said and done, Caleb sat back and glanced at the glade around him.

He was- he was in the grass. Caleb had assumed the grass would be uncomfortable, and that was why it was called blades, but the texture was much more like the velvety smooth leaves of some vegetables. Flowers dotted the glade all around him in dozens of dazzling shades, little white plants with fluffy… leaves disintegrated in the wind. His fingers dug into the loamy dirt with little input from his brain.

Caleb could hear rushing water somewhere nearby, and some kind of flying insect buzzing past him without a care. And the smell! The tower always smelled the same, bread and iron and ozone, but this was something different altogether. He could smell the squishy dirt and something cloyingly sweet.

And the trees.

The woods around the tower had always been an interest of Caleb’s. They were always moving and full of animals. But here, from below, the trees took his breath away. They dwarfed him. He was so small all of a sudden, a speck of sand on the world.

He was shaken out of his musings by a soft hand being held open in front of his face. Caleb looked up to see Dezran smiling at him. “Are you ready?” the arcanist asked.

Caleb nodded, untrusting of what would come out of his mouth if he let it. He put a hand in the one in front of him and allowed himself to be tugged to his feet and further beyond.

Chapter Text

Essek needed to study Caleb like a bug under a looking glass. As he watched Caleb waffle again on whether he really wanted to leave, Essek wondered if the man had been up there as part of an experiment that he had now disrupted. He had never met anyone like Caleb. He was not sure if he liked it or hated it. He floated over to where Caleb was leaning with his head on a tree.

“...So how are you feeling now?” he asked. Caleb shifted slightly to look at him, tears in his eyes. He sniffled. Essek wondered for a moment if the human might be newly susceptible to allergies he would have never encountered in his tower. “I just noticed that you seem to be… a little bit at war with yourself.”

Caleb rubbed at his nose. “Really?”

Essek pretended to lean against the same tree to give off an air of nonchalance. “Yes. Now, I’ve only heard… bits and pieces. Overprotective father, forbidden road trip, first time on your own. This is serious stuff.” Essek glanced away from him, started talking more with his hands. “But someone really should tell you, this is just a part of growing up. A little rebellion, a little adventure… that’s good! Healthy even!”

“You think so?” Caleb asked.

Essek smiled again. “I know from experience. You’re overthinking this, Caleb.” He flicked his hand and pretended to examine his nails. “Does your father deserve it? Will this break his heart and crush his soul? Of course. But you just have to do it.”

A freckled hand started running through bright red hair. “Break his heart?”

Essek shrugged. “It’s possible.”

“Crush his soul?”

His purple fingers curled into a fist. “Like a grape.” Essek turned his head to meet Caleb’s eyes. “You’re right, he would be heartbroken. I- well I can’t believe I’m doing this, but…” He made sure Caleb was hanging onto his words before continuing. “I’m letting you out of the deal.”

Caleb frowned. “Well-”

Essek pushed off and started walking. “Let’s just turn around, and you go home. I get my bag back, you keep your father-son relationship built on mutual trust. We part as unlikely friends.”

Caleb stood up straight. “No. I am seeing those lanterns.”

He did not pout. That was not something he did. But Essek allowed himself to whine a little. “Oh, come on! How am I supposed to take you anywhere with all of that leaving a trail behind us?”

Caleb brandished the pan he must have picked up before they left. “I will use this.”

Both of them were startled by a noise in a nearby bush.

Caleb’s eyes widened as he started to back up behind Essek. “What is it, ruffians? Thugs?”

One of Essek’s hands darted to his component pouch, scrambling to remember what he had kept on him and not in his bag. Finding absolutely nothing, he moved himself into a battle ready stance. He could do plenty with somatics.

Ice curled around the tips of his fingers, a welcome respite to the warmth from the sunny day. He held his breath and the spell.

Essek could feel Caleb jump back ever so slightly as the bush rustled again. With an uncanny speed, the beast was suddenly upon them.

The rabbit looked soft, covered in short hair, speckled with spots. Essek dropped his spell and smoothed the hand down his robe in a move he hoped came off as nonchalant. “Stay calm,” he said flatly. “It can probably smell fear.”

Essek startled at the feeling of a creature darting between his legs. The furred beast from the tower hissed at the rabbit until it turned and ran.

“Ack. Sorry,” Caleb said. Essek turned to meet his eyes and was irritated that his traveling companion’s face was for once, near impossible to read. “I must just be a little jumpy. I will get that under control.”

Essek looked for the thing from the tower, only to find that it had disappeared from sight. Strange. He refocused on Caleb, who was holding onto a strand of his own hair like a rope.

“Probably best that we avoid ruffians and thugs, then.”

Caleb chuckled awkwardly. “Ja, maybe if that is an option. I mean- if avoiding people altogether is an option, that might be best. I can get a little overwhelmed even in the tower.”

An idea popped into Essek’s head. Maybe half of a plan. He leaned against another tree.

“Are you hungry? I know a great place for lunch.”

Caleb’s head tilted like that of a confused dog. “I ate this morning but… if we are traveling for a while, maybe that is not a bad idea.” He glanced further into the woods. “Is it far?”

Essek smirked. “Not at all. Just this way.”

Ikithon slowed his pace at the sound of something running. He was well equipped to deal with any manner of beast that decided to cross his path, but there were few things in the forest that would explain the glimpse of cobalt blue he saw. It wouldn’t be strange to see trainees running just to see how far they could go, it happened often enough, but…

He had only headed out a matter of hours ago, and he was going quite slow. If his first instinct was correct, if an expositor was running around this close to his tower… what else could they even be looking for out here?

Ikithon took a moment to evaluate how likely his fears would be confirmed.

He could not risk it. A newly young hand reached into his pocket to pull out some arcane chalk, and he began working on his teleportation circle.

Ikithon spoke a word to drop his own wards, only to feel that they had been loosened recently. Maybe he simply miscalculated how long he had been gone. He would have to ask Bren.

He stepped quietly up the stairs into the main living area, hoping to just check on the boy and go without being seen. His breath caught when he noticed the chair in the middle of the room.

He most certainly had not left that there.

“Bren?” Ikithon asked, moving about the space in hopes he would notice a hidden pile of hair.

There was nothing. There was nothing. The half eaten breakfast was still on the kitchen counter, with no sign of being put away or being disturbed by the cat Bren kept around. He checked his components cabinet after seeing it left slightly open. Anger bloomed in his gut as he noticed several of his belongings were missing. If- if someone had found out about Bren, if someone had sent an arcanist to undo his locks, and felt petty enough to leave insult to injury by taking his things-

But who would dare do that? Who was powerful enough?

Ikithon moved up the stairs to Bren’s room, looking for any sign of the scourgers. Nothing.

Archmage Trent Ikithon did not get mad. He did not throw tantrums like a child. He had never been one to scream or swear or cry. He only pursed his lips to a painful degree, holding onto the railing with white knuckles, and began running through contingencies in his mind.

He was halfway through a plan when his eye caught the glimmer of something stuffed in a crack between stairs. He pulled it out with a huff and immediately dug through the contents. More components, some snacks, a-

His hands closed around a priceless artifact that he had sent his scourgers to obtain just that morning. The crown.

Ikithon dropped the bag and reached for the sending stone to his scourgers that he kept on his person, trying to tamper down the emotion that was starting to bubble up in him. Twenty five words had been almost completely organized in his mind when he noticed a crumpled piece of paper rolling out of the bag. He leaned down to pick it up.

It was a wanted poster, hastily ripped from a nail.

In some ways, it eased his anxiety. Of course he still had the loyalty of his students. He had dealt with Thane before, and he would handily remove him from the picture again.

Caleb followed Thane into a tavern in the middle of the woods. He was… well, he was not quite sure what he expected, but the stories had always described places like these as loud and energized and full of the smell of fresh food.

“Don’t worry,” Dezran said. “This is a nice little place, perfect for you. Would hate to have you scaring and giving up on this endeavor, wouldn’t we?”

The Evening Nip was an almost boring looking wood building. Maybe it would have been certifiably boring if Caleb had more experience being in taverns. It was almost empty too, nothing on the walls, nothing on the tables, just him and Dezran and three strangers. There was quite a distinct smell, but…

Well, Caleb had asked for a quiet place. It would be rude for him to ask for something more exciting now.

He stayed just a step behind Dezran and took everything in as they made their way to the bar. The dwarf behind the bar looked up at the sound of their footsteps. They rolled their eyes upon glancing at Thane.

“While I have no coin,” Dezran said. Caleb’s eyes snapped to him, metaphorical hackles raising. He hoped that Dezran had some of his things on him. He hoped Dezran had more sense than to walk into a place of business and announce that he had no means of paying.

He looked to the barkeep to gauge how much damage control might be needed. To his utter surprise, the man continued to look bored.

“I’d be willing to offer many gifts.” Thane finished with a strange cadence to his words. He and the barkeep stared at each other for long enough that Caleb got a little worried a fight was about to break out.

Then, the barkeep sighed deeply. “Fine,” he said, waving to a staff door. “You know the way.”

Dezran nodded with a smile that only seemed to frustrate the barkeep more. Caleb jumped at the feeling of a silk covered hand taking his own, but he tampered it down and let Dezran drag him back. Maybe- maybe this was one of those places where people had to make their own food?

Dezran walked down a few twisted hallways before bringing the both of them into a pantry of sorts. Caleb took in the names on bottles and bags, hoping for something he would actually know how to cook.

The sound of metal got him to turn his attention to where Dezran was pulling on a chain, opening a door hidden in the floor. Caleb could see stairs past it. The hope and fear of a more eventful evening bloomed in his chest.

“Right this way,” Dezran announced with a flourish.

Caleb almost did something stupid, like ask if it was a good idea to go first, but he quickly decided against it. He wound his hair in his arms and stepped his bare feet onto sticky wooden stairs and immediately pulled back when the texture input reached his brain.

Dezran frowned at him. “Did you not pack shoes?”

“Ah,” Caleb kept his eyes down in an attempt to hide his discomfort. “I own none. I do not really need them. The tower is quite clean.”

Dezran clucked at him. Caleb blinked. “I don’t know how likely it is we will find shoes here, but maybe that is worth the investment. That can’t be comfortable for too long.”

Caleb frowned. “I am afraid I do not know my size. It- I would not worry too much about that.” He made his way down the stairs before he could embarrass himself further. His nerves settled a bit when he heard the trapdoor closing and his guide following him down.

The lower level of the tavern was… much closer to his expectations. It was still fairly quiet, but it was bustling with people running this way and that. There was food and wine along tables and even some dancing in a corner of the room, where a band played something slow and deep.

A second later, Dezran hopped down the last stair to stand at his side. He took in a long breath and let it out just as slowly. “That’s more like it. What’s more tavern than the smell of sweat, blood, and grease?” He raised one hand along with his voice. “Good evening, I am here to speak wi- Ah!”

Dezran’s whole face changed for just a moment at seeing something. Caleb followed his line of sight to a table a bit aways. A man with purple skin and dark… horns? A man sat there with a person who looked like a very long black cat. “What is wrong?” Caleb whispered.

The confident mask slid back over Dezran’s features. “Nothing!” Dezran put an arm around Caleb’s shoulders and steered him to face another man, sitting at an ornately decorated table in the back of the room. “Let me introduce you to the proprietor, yes?”

Caleb frowned, but walked with him nonetheless. As they got closer, he noticed first that the man was blue. He noticed second that he seemed to be sweating to an uncomfortable degree. The man looked up from his card game when they got close, raising a single eyebrow at Dezran.

“Good evening,” Dezran said, taking care to show his hands were empty. “How are you faring?”

Dezran made a quick motion with his fingers, and Caleb heard movement behind them. His head started turning to trace the sound, but Dezran squeezed his shoulder in warning. He reluctantly kept his eyes forward.

“You know I hate small talk,” said the proprietor, voice smooth and deep. He nodded towards Caleb without looking at him. “Who is this?”

Dezran started to say something, but Caleb cut him off. “My name is Caleb. What is yours?”

The man finally looked at him. He scanned Caleb’s face, traced the long, long, line of Caleb's hair with his eyes, then squinted, looking directly in his eyes. “I don’t give my name away so easily. You can call me the Gentleman.” The… Gentleman smiled past Caleb’s shoulder. “Thank you, Cree. Just a moment.”

The cat woman - Cree - walked up on Caleb’s side. Caleb wasn’t sure if the grip on his shoulder tightened or if he leaned away from the stranger on his own accord, but Dezran’s heavy cloak settled further over him. It may have been stupid, but he couldn’t deny it brought him some comfort, like a curtain hiding him from the outside world.

“Well, Caleb,” the Gentleman started. “You have a choice here. You can either give me some of your blood, or Cree here can erase your memory, and you can leave.”

Caleb tried to keep his mouth from dropping. “Wait, what? Why?”

“I need to keep my business interests safe, I’m sure you understand. I need collateral to track you if you decide you want to remember the way in.”

Caleb shrinked back. He- he couldn’t have someone tracking him. He couldn’t have someone with his blood, who knows what they would do with that? And the thought of someone messing with his mind…

Caleb remembered one day that the scourgers had come to visit him, years ago. Astrid had told him that Wulf had gone through something that left him unable to remember what happened. He was quieter than usual, sitting in shadows like he was not even there.

Now, Caleb turned to Dezran. He tried to silently communicate his concerns, hope he understood-

Dezran was looking at him like Father did sometimes, goading him to say something. A sinking feeling formed in Caleb’s stomach.

“I… can I have my blood back? Eventually?”

After a moment, the Gentleman responded. “We can talk about it. It will depend on a few factors, but it’s possible. I may be a criminal, but I stand by my word.”

Caleb stared at the floor, trying to ignore the feeling of being watched from every side. “...fine. How do you… do this- ow-”

Cree pierced a claw into Caleb’s inner elbow. She raised one paw, and a stream of blood flowed out, through the air, and into a small glass container. She capped it and placed it in something on her other side.

Without a word, Cree turned and started walking away. Caleb’s head followed the movement, wondering how the tail could move so much like his own cat’s tail. Which of them was closer to a real cat - his fey familiar or this woman?

“Well, with all that done,” Dezran started, snapping Caleb back to attention.

“What are you doing here, Dezran?” The Gentleman asked. “If you’re going to hide, get to it. I don’t want a fight to start out between you and my patrons.”

Dezran held an offended hand to his chest. “I would never.”

“You might not,” the Gentleman replied. He swirled a wine glass in his hand. “But I know many people in this room would not turn down a chance to have your head on a platter. I would get scarce, if I were you.”

Dezran’s smile slipped a bit. “Ah, I see. I will get on that.” He glanced around the room, looking up to balconies and stairways. “Do you know where-”

He paused. Held both his hands up again, this time removing his arm from around Caleb’s shoulder.

The man that had been sitting with Cree was standing at his side, when he hadn’t been a moment before. The dark hood over his head shaded most of his face, which only seemed to make his glowing red eyes more striking. “Who is this?”

“A temporary acquaintance,” Dezran responded. “In fact, we will be on our way.”

Cree reappeared at Caleb’s side. Caleb noticed the tension in the room starting to rise, several people with weapons strapped to their back glancing over at them.

The horned man put himself further in Dezran’s way. He smiled with a flash of sharp canines. “I would hate to see you leave so soon. I don’t believe we finished our last conversation.”

Dezran was starting to visibly look concerned. One hand covered mostly by a cloak reached back for Caleb’s. “Ah… didn’t we? A shame. I should be back soon though, we can cover it then, Lucien.”

Dezran and Lucien stared at each other for a moment before Dezran tried to dash past the man, dragging Caleb along. They only got about ten feet before Dezran ran straight into a broad chested man.

The elf took two steps back, still holding Caleb’s hand tight. Caleb… could not stop himself from wondering what Dezran’s motivation was in the moment. There was the obvious answer, he wanted his prize back. But a fluttering in Caleb’s chest remembered the cover of a book in his tower where the dashing rogue was pulling someone out of danger. And a more paranoid part of him felt Dezran’s deft fingers locked onto Caleb like one would a gambling chip.

“I think,” the hooded man spoke again. Dezran tried to move Caleb out of the line of sight, which made the whirring in his mind start up again. “That you still owe me, Shadowhand. It is about time that debt came due.”

Dezran held up his other hand and splayed it wide, to show it was empty. “I am unfortunately on a bit of a short time frame with my friend’s urgent matter, but I can get that for you-”

“I am tired of false promises, wizard.” Lucien hissed. The brick house of a man that Dezran ran into a moment ago grabbed Caleb’s guide by the shoulder and pulled him away.

“Stop!” Caleb yelled as the warmth of his hand disappeared.

Lucien walked around the large man to get into Dezran’s face. A single taloned pointer finger was being pushed into his chest. “So where is it, magic man? When, exactly, will I get my due?”

Caleb tried to weasel his way to Dezran, who was trapped between a wall and two adversaries, to no avail. “Stop, please-”

“I can make this quite difficult for you. Tell me where it is, or I will tear it from your mind myself.” The air began to sizzle with energy. Caleb knew by the taste that it would burn, badly.

He closed his eyes shut and pushed again with his whole being. Caleb slipped in between Dezran and Lucien like a well sharpened knife, and he pushed with all of his strength.

Lucien blinked in shock for just a moment. Luckily for Caleb, that was long enough to channel the magic that flooded his own veins into small and precise shots. Three of them shoved at Lucien further, and two of them forced the buff man back into a table.

“Stop!” Caleb said again as silence blanketed the area. He could hear the emotion in the pattern of Dezran’s breaths (relieved? scared?). Purple fingers wrapped around his wrist again, but this time Dezran made no attempt to move him. The wizard was free now on both sides, he could escape either way.

Lucien snarled with a hand clutching at his chest. The red eyes finally honed in on Caleb’s person, like he finally cared enough to see Caleb. “And who are you?”

“I…” Caleb hasn’t been using his real name this whole time, but the question still made him uneasy. He was reminded of the Gentleman stating that his name wasn’t given freely. “It does not matter. But I need this man alive and unharmed for at least a few more days. The next person that lays a hand on him is getting a firebolt to the head.”

The quiet returned. Lucien squinted his eyes like he was trying to see something in Caleb that required further observation.

“Now. I don’t-” Lucien started.

Dezran’s body made a solid thump as he was tackled to the ground from the side. Caleb jolted backwards into a casting pose, ready to defend his guide.

He let his hands drop slowly when he saw the fond expression on Dezran’s face. Ah.

The person on top of Dezran crushed him into the floor for a few more seconds before jumping to her feet. She was… so blue. She had long horns that curled back to a capped point, and short hair that curled in towards her neck at the ends. A blue tail flicked back and forth behind her. She grinned widely at Caleb in a way that made him think he might need to be concerned again.

Dezran sat up with a groan and slowly got to his feet. He made a show of stretching out his shoulders and arms before… starting to float? Caleb’s mind had stopped whirring upon seeing the stranger in front of him, but this was able to catch his attention. “How-” he started.

Dezran cut him off, instead greeting the woman. “Jester! How are you?”

Jester pouted at him dramatically. “It has been too long since you came by last. It has been so boring around here!” She turned away. “How could I ever forgive you?”

Caleb scanned the rest of the bar. Everyone else, including Lucien and the Gentleman (who was leaning against his table with a drink in hand), had their eyes on the woman. Not one of them seemed willing to move, like she was a predator sniffing at the grass.

Dezran shook his head, playing it up as much as Jester even though she was only able to see him out of the corner of her eye. He made no acknowledgement about how the strange display had paused a quite intense altercation. “Oh, I know, I will never make it up to you. But maybe this can be a start.” He motioned to Caleb. Two sets of pink eyes slid towards him. The paranoid part of Caleb preened, proud to be proven right. He did his best not to shrink into himself under the attention.

Jester’s tail swished back and forth. “Hi! I’m Jester!” She smiled at Caleb, and he couldn’t tell at all whether or not it was genuine. “What’s your name?”

“...Caleb,” he replied after waiting to see if Dezran wanted to respond instead. The elven man nodded at him with an attempt at reassurance on his features.

“Soooooo…” Jester said, turning back to her… friend? “Is this your partner or something?”

Dezran’s hands covered his face. He spoke through them, voice coming out slightly muffled. “Jester. That has never been the case. I do not know why you keep asking.”

“I don’t know why you are still surprised by it!” Jester responded, bumping her shoulder into Dezran’s.

Dezran took a moment to groan dramatically. He took a breath before dropping his hands, one at his side, and the other falling into place on Caleb’s arm. Caleb pointedly did not think about it. “I am helping Caleb as part of a job, but I was wondering if you could help with a bit of a problem.”

Jester tilted her head. “Yeah, of course! What do you need!”

“You still like braiding, right?”

Essek stayed plastered to Jester’s side with his arm looped through her elbow as she let them up the stairs. He- Dezran Thane did not have friends. Regardless, Essek was incredibly grateful his amiable acquaintance had impeccable timing and immunity among criminals.

Jester had been babbling at Caleb, listing off every type of braid she knew and talking about all the hair pieces she could use while he tried desperately to follow along. Essek’s eyes dropped to where Caleb was wringing his wrapped hands. The same hands that, moments ago, slung magic at Lucien. He- Essek knew he must have found the man in a wizard’s tower, but he had been starting to doubt that Caleb had any abilities at all, much less ones higher than his own.

More interesting, however, was the fact that Caleb did not seem to have a focus. As far as he could tell, Caleb did not carry components or a spellbook or even a small orb. His traveling clothes were nice and beautifully embroidered. That did not change the fact there were no visible pockets.

Maybe he just missed it. Essek had been, understandably, quite distracted at the time. He made a mental note to pay closer attention in the case that he noticed Caleb casting again.

Jester threw her door open with a thoughtless use of thaumaturgy, the associated sound loud enough to make Caleb flinch back.

Her room was not much different than it was when he saw her last. The walls and ceiling were covered in layer upon layer of painted murals depicting the sea and the mountains and all sorts of natural structures Essek had never had the chance to see. Her vanity was covered in things that glimmered and sparkled, presents from her mother to diminish the homesickness, gifts from her father given mostly out of guilt, bribes from all sorts of criminals in the hopes their blackmail would stay secret - it was truly an extensive collection.

Jester unattached herself from Essek to steer Caleb to a padded chair. Essek made himself useful by dragging in the loose ends of the hair and shutting the door. Locking it, for extra security.

“And so he loves to play pranks and sponsor the arts- well, certain kinds of art. And he’s SUPER cool. I think you would be a great-”

Essek finally tuned back into the conversation and groaned. “Jester, you met him a matter of minutes ago. Give him a break before inviting him into your cult.”

“It’s not a cuuuuuult,” Jester whined. Sprinkle popped his scrawny head out from under her cloak and chirped angrily at Essek. “I know I know, right!”

“What is that?” Caleb asked, head tilted like a confused dog.

Jester’s eyes sparkled and started another spiel explaining how cults work and how her religion is not a cult, thank you. She pulled the hair so it was all flat in a line, going over her bed and around her tables. Jester shimmied a little with excitement. “Essek,” she said in a stage whisper. “Can you do that cleaning thing first?” He set himself to prestidigitating the strands in the places they had been dragging on the floor. Jester moved back to Caleb and started braiding a section just over his ear.

Caleb’s eyes lit up. “You have a pet as well?”

“Yes!” Jester smiled, reaching up to where Essek assumed her weasel was. “He is my best friend. His name is Sprinkle! Well, actually, sometimes his name is the Traveler, but he is always my friend!”

Essek raised a single eyebrow, invisible with the way he was looking down. Sprinkle, in his experience, was an absolute menace ready to bite at anything that came close. He still didn’t understand how this all related to her god. He wasn’t sure he wanted to.

There was a sudden void of magic in the air for a moment, like the tide pulling in before it doubled back. Essek looked up to the part of the mirror he could see in hopes that he would catch the casting.

He must have missed it, because instead of somatics, Caleb’s hands were occupied with the creature from the tower. A familiar?

Jester squeaked. “Oh my GOD he is so cute! What is his name?”

“Frumpkin,” Caleb replied tentatively.

“Oh that is so CUTE! Hello, Frumpkin!” Jester reached forward to scratch the creature under its chin. The rumbling sound started up again.

Essek zoned out again as they started talking about animals and nature. His gloved hands ran along bronze strands, watching the way it shimmered in the light when it moved. Was there a chance- wait.

“Is there a chance that your hair is actually metal?” Essek asked, interrupting the conversation.

The two of them stopped talking. “Ah… I am not sure?” Caleb frowned. “It is too light for that, no?”

“Jester,” Essek continued without a response. “You have held bronze before, right? Do you think there’s any chance this is just… very finely spun?”

Jester shrugged. “I don’t know! I mean, maybe? Who cares?”

“If it’s a precious metal, it could be used as a focus,” Essek replied when Jester’s words were finished. “I just noticed that it doesn’t seem Caleb has a focus. Or components.”

Caleb’s back straightened. He said nothing, prompting Essek to squint.

“Welllll maybe he’s just cooler than you,” Jester said.

Essek frowned at her. He dropped the conversation and settled himself into Jester’s bed, pulling out his spellbook to distract himself.

Once he was halfway through reviewing his notes, there was a knock at the door. Jester made a noise of annoyance. She was elbows deep in the hair and holding several strands apart with her fingers. Caleb had turned slightly to watch the door, hands twitching with what might be the first form of a somatic component. The creature around his shoulders rumbled.

Essek rose to his feet. “I guess I will handle it.” He ignored Jester snickering behind his back. He plastered a fake smile to his face and opened the door. It dropped when he realized no one was there.

He stuck his head out and glanced around in an attempt to find the source of the disturbance. Instead, he noticed a concerning sound from downstairs.

Or, rather, a concerning silence.

“Listen, I don’t want trouble,” the monk projected. “I don’t like any of you, but I’m not here for you today. We got a tip Thane was here. Hand him over and I walk away.”

Essek pulled back into Jester’s room quickly. He closed the door as quietly as possible. “We have to go,” he told the others. “As soon as possible.”

Jester pouted. “But you just got here! We haven’t even really caught up yet!” She gestured her arms to show how they were still working on the many, many feet of still free hair. “I’m not done yet.”

Essek put some seriousness in his voice. “Jester. The guard is here. If you want to see me again ever and would like to keep my head attached to my body, you need to help my companion and I escape right now.”

Jester slumped back in her chair. “...Fine, I guess I can help. But you owe me. And you have to wait until I finish tying this up so it isn’t snagging on the ground.”

“I can hold it,” Caleb interjected. “I am used to maneuvering it around. But, ah, I appreciate your assistance in shortening it for now.” His crystal blue eyes met Essek’s. “We should be going.”

Essek nodded hesitantly. Then again, more sure. “Right. I’ll- let me get our things together.” He turned away to start sliding his books back under his coat. By the time he finished righting himself, Caleb was standing. He started to thank Jester, or apologize, but instead she enveloped him in a bone crushing hug that plastered his arms against his side. The human’s eyes went wide. Before he could panic too much, Jester let him go.

“Stay safe,” Jester said.

Essek’s heart softened. He had no idea why someone so kind would be so willing to put up with him.

“...I will,” he responded after a heartbeat. “And I will endeavor to return-”

“I’m mad at you. I was talking to Caleb.” Jester’s tail flicked in annoyance, but the smile in the corner of her eyes made Essek think that might not be the complete truth.

“Of course,” Caleb whispered. He looped the unbraided hair around his neck like the world’s longest scarf. It should have looked stupid with the way the intricate pattern came to a sudden stop, tied with an expensive looking hair piece, but Caleb’s earnestness made it hard to judge it.

Jester ushered the two of them into her closet and opened the door leading into her secret escape tunnel. She was supposed to keep the knowledge of it confidential so she would be able to get out safely in the case of something bad happening in the tavern, but she had already used it to smuggle Essek out many times.

Caleb stepped in with no hesitation, his bare feet padding along the wet dirt floor. Essek winced just watching it. He lamented the fact that Jester would not have shoes his size. They would need to fix that when they got to the kingdom. For now, Essek would simply endeavor to keep an eye on the ground to make sure it was safe for him.

“Thank you, Jes.” Essek said with as much sentiment as he could muster. “I-” Jester tugged him into an even tighter hug. “Okay. That-” She constricted him further. “Jester, I can’t breathe.”

Jester pulled back and pushed a single finger into Essek’s chest. “You better come back. For a while this time. I want to hear everything about this.” She glanced over his shoulder for just a moment. “Bring him too.”

Essek winced. “I mean… I’ll see what I can do about that. But I’ll be back soon.”

Jester rolled her eyes with a theatrical sigh before closing the door, leaving Essek and his charge in complete darkness.

His legs started moving towards the exit of the tunnel. He made it a few feet before realizing he did not hear another set of steps behind him.

“Caleb? Are you coming? We should get moving.”

“Ah…” There was something concerning in Caleb’s voice, but Essek could not figure out exactly what it was. Maybe he stepped on something? Essek scowled at the ground, checking it for further irritants-

“I can’t see in the dark,” Caleb said, voice small.

“Oh, right.” Essek started leading himself through the somatics of Dancing Lights, then promptly stopped. “Is there any chance you have a glowworm on you?”

“No? Why?”

Essek sighed. “You took all of my components. If I had one, I could do something to help you see, but now there’s nothing to be done.” He glanced at Caleb. “Just… stay close, okay? I’ll let you know if there’s anything you need to avoid.”

After a beat, Caleb started following close behind.

Master Trent Ikithon kept an eye on the quiet tavern, leaning against a tree. He felt the anger start to bubble up in him again when he noticed one of his scourgers leaving out the front door alone.

She picked her way quietly across the foliage up the hill. Trent waited, fuming, until she was almost as far from the building as he was. He curled a piece of copper around his fingers.

Where is he? Ikithon messaged, short and simple. Astrid stumbled. It took almost no time for her keen eyes to find him. Still enough time that she would need more practice, but an acceptable range.

No longer there, she messaged back. Someone called the Soul and Thane must have spooked. Several people saw Bren there at his side. She sent another cantrip of her own. He might be under duress. Several people were thinking about how skittish he was.

Trent let the pointed end of the wire poke into the meat of his palm. Do not apologize for him. He can explain the situation to me himself.

Astrid nodded subtly. An outsider would see nothing but a cloaked woman walking into the woods and talking to herself. Not an incredibly abnormal sight.

Of course. My apologies, master.

You are forgiven. Now, what is your next step? I would not let this trail go cold, if I were you.

Astrid paused and glanced around the environment. Ikithon wished he was close enough to divine what she was thinking. …Expositor Lionett is after Thane for the theft. She is loud. I have no doubt I can keep close behind. She completed a half turn and walked back down the slope.

And what is your back up plan, if she ends up being incompetent?

Astrid moved with more confidence in her step the closer she was to the building. Thane got in a fight while he was here. The backup plan is to trust that the enemy of my enemy is an expendable bloodhound.

Ikithon smiled. Very well. Bring me back my property. I wouldn’t turn down Thane’s head either, if you have the time.

Of course, master. I will have them both in three days.

Make it two, he instructed before teleporting away.

Chapter Text

Caleb did his best to stay close enough to Dezran that he could hear the other man’s footsteps. He found himself incredibly grateful that he had not decided to float again this time. It was already hard enough to keep up with so many new textures and smells while keeping his hair off the floor. So many things he has never had to try before!

And it was completely dark! Caleb decided to be excited by the novelty of it instead of ruminating on all the things that could be watching him while he could not see. At least the fear of creatures seeing him was new as well. He decided he would take notes on his experiences before going to sleep, to take with him when he goes back home.

“So…” Dezran started, shocking Caleb out of his thoughts. “I didn’t know you could cast.”

Caleb tried to keep his face blank. He really hoped that Dezran was not planning on asking why he was able to cast again, without Jester changing the subject. Father had always told him that his sorcery made him a target and he… well, he did not want to have to leave his guide.

“I can,” he responded.

The silent tension hung for a moment. Then, somewhat conveniently, Caleb’s next step landed on something raised that threw off his whole balance. Tripping and falling was nowhere near something novel for him. Having hair that long leads to many tired mornings reaching for anything to keep him up, only to pull out a drawer and make more of a mess.

Something new, however, was flailing out his arm and having it land on something warm. And alive. Dezran stumbled a bit, but he was able to keep Caleb from face planting in the dirt (the dirt!) with the hand on his silk covered forearm.

“...Are you okay?”

Caleb laughed. “Ah, yes. Sorry. There was a… rock? I think? I could not see it.”

Dezran’s other arm landed on top of Caleb’s hand. Caleb pulled himself to Dezran’s side and let him move the limb down until they were holding hands.

“Maybe it would be better for you to hold on until we get out,” Dezran explained.

“Oh,” Caleb replied intelligently, trying to keep a blush from his face. “I- ja, of course.”

They walked like that for four minutes and fifty two seconds before Caleb started getting bored. The ability to do anything he wanted at any time for the first twenty years of his life had really shortened his attention span.

“So,” Caleb pivoted. “Where are you from?”

Dezran laughed. “No, sorry, I don’t do backstory. However, I am finding myself more and more invested in yours. I have gathered you probably do not want to talk about the hair-”

“No.”

“Or the weird relationship with your dad,”

Caleb winced. He certainly did not want to think about that. “My father. Also, no.”

“Frankly, I’m too scared to ask about the weasel,”

“He’s a cat.”

“Groundhog. Here’s my question,” Dezran started, tugging Caleb out of the way of some unseen obstacle. “If you want to see the lanterns so badly, why haven’t you gone before?”

Caleb frowned. The voice of his father echoed in his mind, telling him about the danger he posed to the kingdom at large. He had been trying so hard to keep his emotions down and to himself, hoping it would be enough, but a large portion of his hopes had been banking on Dezran being powerful enough to fix things when he blew up.

He felt something bubbling up in his stomach. What if- why did he use his powers so thoughtlessly in that tavern? Dezran was already suspicious of him, and he probably made enemies (enemies!) there. Would he be able to stop others- would he be able to stop himself-

Dezran squeezed his hand. “...Sorry. I didn’t mean to- are you okay? Breathing a little fast there, friend.”

Caleb see Dezran’s ears flick, trying to stop the cycle of panic before it hurt someone. The darkness was starting to get really old and he could feel the walls of the tunnel closing in on him-

Wait. He could see Dezran’s ears. There was enough lowlight for him to see, they must be close to the exit!

He used the hand not currently being held (his hand was still being held!) to smooth out the front of his clothes. “I am fine, thank you.” Then, a moment later. “Are we almost out?”

Caleb could see enough now to take note of the face Dezran made when he thought. One of his sharp little teeth tugged at his bottom lip. His fingers flexed in Caleb’s hand like he was considering solving a problem by experimenting with magic. “I think so. How long do you think we’ve been walking?”

“Five minutes and fifty-two seconds,” Caleb said without a beat.

Dezran turned his head to look at him. “That’s a specific guess.”

Something rumbled around in his stomach, begging him to stop saying things to this stranger that might get him hurt, but… if Caleb didn’t do it now, when would he ever get this chance again? “It is not a guess. I always know the time. I have an excellent memory.”

Dezran blinked at him, an expression crossing his face that Caleb had never seen before. Then his head turned slightly. Focused on something past Caleb’s shoulder.

“Shit. We need to hurry up.” Dezran started tugging Caleb along in a half-jog.

“Why?”

“We’re being followed,” Dezran explained as he accelerated.

Caleb tried to squint into the darkness behind to see what the wizard did. “How? Is this not a secret passage?”

Dezran’s breaths started to come in shorter with the exertion. “In theory, yes. But Jester has a lot of friends she is willing to let use it.”

“And they are not your friends as well?”

The elf laughed, expelling all the breath in his lungs. “No, they are not.”

The tunnel opened up in almost no time. Caleb squinted at the sun in an attempt to recalibrate his eyes. He let Dezran pull him until he stopped suddenly and changed directions. “What-”

Dezran tugged Caleb behind him, hiding them both in a crevice in the sheer cliff. “If you want me to get you there without getting arrested, you need to be quiet right now,” he whispered.

Caleb frowned, but he said nothing. He wasn’t sure until he heard another person coming from the rocky cliff.

“Thane!” the woman yelled. “I know you’re fucking here!”

“Who is that?” Caleb whispered.

“She doesn’t like me.”

Another figure appeared behind her, black robe concealing their whole body. “Fuck,” Dezran said. He pushed a hand through his hair.

“Who is that?”

“She also doesn’t like me.”

A third person burst out from the tunnel, engulfed by an embroidered coat. “Who is that?” Caleb asked again.

Dezran gave him an annoyed look. “For the moment, let’s just assume nobody likes me.”

I like you, Caleb thought and did not say.

The last person turned and faced the exact direction of their hiding spot and started walking. The features solidified into the man Dezran upset in the tavern. Lucien. The black cloaked woman caught the movement and tagged along, and the woman in blue wasted no time sprinting to their location.

“Fuck,” Dezran said again.

Caleb looked down to where the cliff edge dropped to rocky ground. It would be less of a fall than there was from his tower, he was certain. “Why can we not just jump down again?”

“I can’t catch both of us. Falling full velocity on solid rock is going to hurt a lot worse than smashing into flowers and grass.”

Caleb took a breath. “Then we fight.”

“What-” Dezran squeaked as Caleb moved past him and into the line of sight of all of their enemies. “What are you doing! Get back!”

“I do not want to hurt any of you,” Caleb projected. “But I will. Let us pass.”

Lucien and the black coat hesitated. The woman in blue did not. She continued rushing forward with balled up fists.

That was… not good.

Caleb was running through his spells in his mind, thinking of the best way to do enough damage to scare her without killing her when Dezran shoved him off the cliff.

Essek wasn’t panicking. This would be his fucking luck, Beau and Astrid and Lucien catching up with him at the same time, but he has lots of experience ditching each of them. This is no different, he kept telling himself.

He had removed Caleb from the board, expertly taking him from an innocent staring at Beau like a deer in the headlights to plummeting to safety at the bottom of the cavern. Essek just had to time this perfectly, slow Caleb’s velocity in six seconds, then jump himself. Easy. Caleb might have an inexplicable cogency when it came to the flow of time, but Essek was an expert at making time bend to his will.

Lucien sneered. He pulled out his scimitars and made them glow with searing white light.

“I can’t get you your book if I’m dead,” Essek warned.

Lucien almost growled. He didn’t bother bantering back, moving instead to slash at Essek. Rude.

Essek raised his hand to throw up a shield and realized at the last moment that he made a crucial mistake. In the rush of strategizing for battle, he forgot he still had no focus or components.

Fuck.

The slices cut into the meat of his forearm through his nice shirt. Essek backed up until he hit the wall again.

Beauregard came next, shoving Lucien aside to punch Essek in the gut. The blows sucked, yes, but they were survivable. “Don’t fucking move,” she said. Essek felt his muscles start to lock up. That was a problem.

He couldn’t even move far enough to grab for the dagger strapped to his leg in a futile attempt to defend himself. He couldn’t even speak, couldn’t attempt to turn his enemies against each other.

And he felt his mental timer expire. He couldn’t even save Caleb for a moment before he died.

Astrid tried to cast something from afar, but he couldn’t tell what. Whatever it was, it didn’t hit him, so it wasn’t his problem.

More slashes and more punches and Essek was starting to get worried that Master Thief Dezran Thane wasn’t going to make it out of this one. He felt himself get dragged and let it happen. Might as well with everything going on.

He opened his eyes again when he felt very sudden and intense heat. He had to close them immediately when confronted with the burst of light. Essek turned away from it before opening his eyes again, only to see Caleb’s fire red hair.

“What?” he asked before he noticed his mouth was open. Maybe he did die.

Before he could adjust, Essek felt the ground literally come out from under him. His brain tried to make sense of the way the wind was rushing past his face and came to a conclusion way too slowly.

“I- I told you, I can’t catch us both!” he yelled at Caleb, recognizing the hand around his waist dragging him down.

“You do not need to!” Caleb shouted back with a noise of effort. “I have this!”

Essek dragged his hands to his face, working against gravity to cover his eyes. His stomach lurched as they… started going up?

That lasted for only a moment before they started going down again and crashed, rolling to a rocky stop.

Essek let his equilibrium adjust before trying to get a bead on the situation again. He blinked his eyes open and found Caleb over him, staring at him.

“I… I cannot believe I just did that,” Caleb said between gasps. His smile was contagious.

“What… did you do?”

Caleb waved his hand vaguely. “When you- you pushed me, I hooked my hair around this pipe and swung back up, and-” Caleb looked directly at Essek, chest still heaving. “You cannot get rid of me that easily. We still have a deal.”

“I wasn’t trying to get rid of you,” Essek scoffed, feeling like he suddenly needed to defend himself. “I was going to…”

Essek’s eyes had started tracing the hair up to whatever pipe he did not see earlier. The end of it was just falling off the slightly shaking waterway. It was… shaking a lot.

Caleb’s energy dropped a bit. “You were going to what?” He sat up so he was no longer pinning Essek and looked over his body. “Are you hurt?”

Essek groaned his way to sitting as quickly as possible. “We need to go, now.”

“What do you mean? We got away, right?”

Essek pushed at Caleb’s shoulders to turn him around, so he could see the giant dam structure collapsing, a wave threatening to flood the valley.

“Oh. I see.”

Caleb scrambled to his feet and grabbed Essek’s hand again to tug him up. He needed to get them out of the way of more destruction caused by his hand. Hair. Whatever.

Dezran was definitely hurt, it was hard to get him to move faster than a limp. He would need to help him when there was time.

Caleb spotted a hole in the rock wall. Another tunnel? There had to be a way Jester was meant to get further than a cliff.

He plunged into the darkness again with Dezran right behind him. “I- I am sorry, but I still cannot see. Can you-”

Dezran moved in front of him without another thought. Caleb was led forward for exactly seventeen seconds before they stopped. A loud crash echoed outside, then the sound of rushing water.

“What is it?” Caleb asked, a little frustrated.

Dezran stepped back. “It’s a cave.”

“What?”

Dezran’s voice was full of something sad. “It’s not a tunnel, it’s a cave. There’s a wall. This is a dead end.”

Caleb sucked in a breath. The water started flooding into the- the cave, and the coldness of it shocked his feet.

Dezran moved forward in a swift moment, and Caleb could hear him scraping at the wall with some sort of instrument. “There’s individual rocks. We just need to-”

Caleb moved forward and started throwing rocks aside.

Frigid waves lapped at the ends of Caleb’s robe, and all he could think was that father would be so mad. Dezran’s movements got faster, more frantic, as the sound of debris falling went from a thunk to a splash. He pulled one stone at the wrong angle and slashed his hand open through the glove. The red of it mixed into the water, moving like a snake.

The waterline rose to their waists. Their chests. Caleb’s lungs were struggling to take in air. A strange buoyancy hit him, raising him up towards the top of this death trap. Caleb could no longer reach the stones, too busy being battered against the walls.

He wished he could see Dezran.

The water broke, and he could at least hear Dezran’s panicked breathing. His ears must have flicked droplets off. Instead of ducking back down, he just… waited.

“There’s no use,” he said. “It’s several layers. We’re stuck.”

Water continued to pour in, now up to the top of his shoulders. Caleb felt more of it dripping down his face. “This is all my fault. He was right, I never should have done this.” He accidentally gulped in some of the liquid and had to cough it out. That was an experience he could have gone without.

“I am sorry,” Caleb continued with a newly sore throat. “I am so sorry, Dezran.”

The swish of the waves stretched up to their chins. There was something almost calming about the pattern of the sound.

“...Essek.”

Caleb squinted. “What?”

“My real name is Essek,” his companion whispered over the rushing noise. “Someone might as well know.”

Caleb scoured for something to trade back, something he wanted to share, something vulnerable enough to match that confession. He tucked a strand behind his ear. “I can cast with just my hair.”

“...what?” Dez- Essek asked, off guard.

Caleb’s eyes widened. “I can cast with just my hair!”

That was the last thing he could say before there was no more air to breathe. Caleb shoved Essek out of the way and pressed a hand against the wall.

He tried to connect with the wall, to connect to the nature around him. There had to be a time before a rockslide put this here, there had to be a time when this was just a river that went through a mountain, he just had to return it to its natural state. There had to be a time before this rockslide, he simply had to bring it back-

Caleb’s hair started to burn and glow from the roots to the tips. He focused on what he could now see, despite the darkness encroaching on the corners of his vision. He threaded a strand of fate between his fingers and pulled.

Caleb barely caught the sight of Essek’s eyes filling with fear. He tried not to let the guilt distract him, not now. Yes, Caleb absolutely should have told him before now. Yes, Essek had every right to be horrified. But there was no time for that.

To his credit, Essek recovered quickly. After the first rock disappeared, he swam down to start tugging others out of the way. Caleb helped along where he could. He shot what he determined as weak spots with tiny balls of light and force, until the wall started to crumble into the stream on the other side.

Essek shouldered through the blockage ahead of him. The rest of it followed suit, floating towards gentler waters. Caleb had to squint against the sunlight with eyes too acclimated to the encroaching darkness.

Essek dragged himself up onto the shore, before turning back to pull Caleb along with him. Then Essek laid flat on his back in the sharp grass.

Caleb summoned Frumpkin back into his arms. The cat tried to jump up on his shoulders, but Caleb commanded him mentally to check on Essek. He started to survey the damage to his hair with a wince.

It couldn’t just be that the feat of magic exhausted him, of course his hair was a giant rats nest. His hair was always a mess after washing it. It was already a mess on most days, but it took hours to get out the knots, and at least a full day to let it dry in the sun. Caleb was always miserable in the rainy season.

Still, something giddy bubbled up in his chest. “We made it out. We made it out!”

“Your hair glowed,” Essek said, apropos of nothing.

“I’m alive,” Caleb laughed. “You’re alive, we-”

Essek turned just his head to glance at Frumpkin, who had pulled the silk glove off with his teeth and started licking his hand clean. “Never saw that coming. His hair actually glowed.”

“Essek.”

He was brushing his other hand through his own hair. “Why does it glow? You don’t have a focus, or a spellbook. How is he-”

“Essek!” Caleb moved over to his companion’s side.

Those purple-pink eyes moved up to Caleb’s face. “What is it?”

Caleb reached for Essek’s hand (now dutifully cleaned by Frumpkin), taking special care to avoid touching the gash down the center of it. He couldn’t hold back a little uptick in the corner of his mouth. “It doesn’t just glow.”

Eadwulf watched the combatants from afar, keeping a close eye on the spellwork Bren was doing. Master Ikithon would like to know as much as possible about Bren and Thane. Wulf had to think about it like any other mission, if just to keep his body moving and his mind quiet.

The facts about the situation were as follows:

First, Thane was a fucking idiot, but they all already knew that. He absolutely would have been killed or arrested if there had not been a scapegoat with no battle experience by his side.

Second, Bren had shown an unexpected aptitude for battle magic. Wulf wasn’t sure- but no, Ikithon would want to know that as well. Surely he did not have enough space to practice fireballs at Ambition’s Call without starting a very noticeable forest fire.

Third, all three of Thane’s enemies did not catch him, because Bren is intelligent. He showed an incredible amount of quick thinking. He’s apparently certain enough in his hair’s tensile strength to swing on it with the added weight of another man.

Wulf, Astrid messaged him while dogging the steps of the monk. Catch the tiefling. Name is Lucien. Put him on the trail as well. We can take care of him if he gets there first.

He responded immediately. Of course. Travel safe.

He couldn’t see Astrid’s face from this range, but he knew she was rolling her eyes. Eadwulf pulled up his hood and made his way down to the pair.

“Lucien,” Wulf said when he was close enough to be heard, voice as accentless as possible.

Lucien turned around on his heels. “Can I help you?”

Wulf smiled. “On the contrary, friend. I believe I can help you.”

The tabaxi at his side hissed at Wulf. Lucien looked mostly unimpressed. “Is that all? I have things to get to.”

Eadwulf pulled the crown out of his satchel with one finger and dangled it in the air.

“What the fuck is-” Lucien paused and let the tabaxi whisper something in his ear. He took a moment to process it. “...Interesting. What’s the catch?”

Wulf threw it in the air, and the tabaxi caught it with a padded paw. “No catch. Have it.”

The tabaxi cast something on the crown, presumably confirming its authenticity. She squinted at Wulf even as she nodded. Lucien’s tail flicked.

“I don’t work with wizards,” Lucien said.

Wulf held up his raven skull pendant. “Good thing for you that I’m a paladin.”

Lucien sighed. “If that’s all you have, we should-”

“Or,” Wulf interrupted. “You can give that back and get information on something worth a thousand crowns. Something I know you have been looking for, and that isn’t even the best part.”

“This is a strange fucking way to give me a job,” Wulf watched emotions flit behind Lucien’s eyes. He could see the exact moment the tiefling bit the hook. “...What’s the best part?”

Wulf gave a lazy smile. “Revenge on Dezran Thane.”

“So,” Essek started conversationally. “You’re being strangely cryptic as you wrap your magic hair around my injured hand.” He winced when Caleb tightened the hold, showing off the tips of his eyeteeth.

“Sorry.” Caleb stabilized his breath. This was fine. This was good, even! This is the one thing he can do that only helps people, and there’s no reason he should be so nervous-

Well, there were a few. But Thane was good, he was safe here. And he could keep Essek safe too. Caleb sent Frumpkin to scarf around Essek’s neck with a soothing purr. Essek’s ears twitched. “Just… just don’t freak out,” Caleb instructed. This would be fine.

Essek didn’t respond, so Caleb closed his eyes. He focused on the blood, on the tear, on the molecules of Essek’s skin. “Flower, gleam and glow. Let your power shine.” The light from his hair shone through Caleb’s eyelids. Caleb tried to ignore the flinch from Essek’s hand.

He drew his attention to what this hand felt like through the thin cloth twenty-four minutes ago in the tunnel, the way it seemed an hour ago in the tavern, the intricacies of it when Essek broke into his tower. Caleb tried to extrapolate what it looked like, what it felt like, when he was a child. What will it be like when he is old? “Make the clock reverse, bring back what once was mine.”

Caleb felt the press of his hair on the skin, imagining the blood disappearing. He visualized the cells returning to the state they were in just before the cut. “Heal what has been hurt. Change the Fates’ design.” Essek’s wrist jerked, but in less than a moment it was still again. Caleb held it tighter.

“Save what has been lost, bring back what once was mine.” Caleb aligned the two truths of Essek’s hand on top of each other. He pulled the old reality through, then seared it in place. “What once was mine.”

Caleb watched the light fade all the way to the end. When he unwrapped the hand, Essek was uninjured.

“Ahhhhh,” Essek said, as monotone as possible.

“Don’t freak out.”

Essek flexed the individual fingers, then the hand as a whole, as if it was an alien limb. “Ah. I’m not. I’m not freaking out, are you freaking out?” He very carefully set Caleb’s hair in the grass. “That is…” Essek grasped for words. “Interesting. Your hair is interesting. How long has it been doing that?”

Caleb refused to let this line of questioning get under his skin. Essek was just curious. Caleb called Frumpkin back over to his lap, to give his hands something to do. “Forever, I guess?” He pulled out the short strand of dark auburn from behind his ear. “Father said that when I was a baby, someone tried to cut it. They wanted to take its power for themselves. But once it’s cut…”

Caleb let it fall back. He shrugged. “Once it’s cut, it turns that ruddy shade and loses its power. And that’s why I- That’s why my father never let me…” Caleb made a noise of distress. Why was this so hard to say? “People are looking for me all the time, Essek. I’m a weapon and a healer all in one, and that’s why I had to- why I never left…”

“The tower?” Essek offered, frowning. Of course. Caleb berated himself again for not telling Essek sooner.

“Yes.” Caleb ran his hands along Frumpkin’s back so he didn’t have to look at that despair. “I am a danger to you. If anyone catches me, I’m a danger to everyone. And the tower is as much for my safety as it is for the rest of the world.”

“You really believe that?”

Caleb blinked at him. He didn’t have enough experience with people to discern what exactly that furrowed brow met. “Ah… ja? Yes?”

Essek opened his mouth to say something, but immediately thought better of it. He tried again with something else. “And you’re still going to go back, after this?”

Caleb frowned. “I… Essek, did you hear what I said? I have to. For everyone.”

Essek worked his jaw. “I heard what you said.” There was an uncomfortable moment of silence until he asked, “Do you have some food in there?”

“Oh, yes, one moment.” Caleb pulled his shoulder bag around so he could better access it. He was very grateful he had wrapped the bread so it would not be soggy. Caleb ignored the sending stone at the bottom of the bag and whipped together some quick sandwiches.

“What are your necklaces for?” Essek asked between bites, once they had settled. “They are magical, yes?”

It took a moment to realize what he was talking about, with how little Caleb usually paid attention to them. He chewed on the inside of his cheek. “Yes, they are. They keep me safe.”

One of Essek’s eyebrows raised. “From mysterious kidnappers?” Caleb's nose scrunched up. “Not that you have to tell me or anything, I am just curious,” Essek amended.

“No, I…” Caleb took a breath and rubbed at the back of his neck. His fingers latched onto one of the heavy chains and followed it to the front. The scars on his arms tingled under the soaked wrappings, a phantom pain, as his fingers clasped around the heart shaped pendant. “This one keeps me alive.” His mind unhelpfully reminded him of days when the experimentation went too far, mistakes that Caleb could not save himself from, only to be brought back from the brink by the little red heart. He moved on before he could be caught dwelling on pointed green shards vibrating below his skin. They ached with the recent strain. “Ikithon-”

Essek’s eyes shot wide open. “Ikithon?”

“My father,” Caleb elaborated. Had he really not said that yet?

Essek leaned back and let out a low whistle. “Ikithon, huh?”

“Is something wrong with that?” Caleb stopped himself from asking what Essek clearly knew about his father’s dealings. He was under the impression that no one was supposed to know, and he didn’t want to give it away.

Essek grimaced. “Nevermind. That’s a conversation to unpack when I’m full. What about your other necklace?”

Caleb moved to pull the other necklace out of his shirt, holding it near the firelight so Dezran could see the symbol of a closed eye. “This one keeps me safe. Hidden.”

Essek tilted his head. “Hidden from what?”

Caleb twisted the brass pendant back and forth. He had just explained all of this. “From people who would take me away. From people that would use my power for themselves.”

“...Like Ikithon?”

Caleb narrowed his eyes at the other man. “What do you mean?”

“It hides you from people who want to use your power for themselves, like Ikithon has been doing all these years.”

Caleb leaned back, suddenly apprehensive. “No, I… you misunderstand. I am helping Ikithon learn how to harness power like this so he can better protect the good people of the Empire.”

Essek scoffed. “Let's pretend for a moment that Ikithon is hurting you for any reason besides his own gain. What makes you think anyone in the Empire is good enough to warrant that? Have you even met anyone from there besides him?”

Caleb's shoulders hunched up. “Yes. I have met good people.”

“Oh yeah? And who would that be?” Essek looked at him with a challenge in his eyes.

Frumpkin started to rouse in Caleb's lap.

Caleb decided to focus on the cat instead of the vicious look in his newest friend’s eye. “Ikithon has students that come to visit me sometimes. To make sure I'm safe.”

Essek laughed, a full bodied thing that took a few seconds to die down. “Astrid and Wulf? You believe in the good of humanity because of Ikithon, Astrid, and Wulf?”

Caleb hunched down even more. Frumpkin’s ears pinned back against his head, and started giving a low, angry rumble. “I…” Caleb took a breath. “There are good people in the books I read.” Then, before Essek could cut him off, “Your friends seemed nice. And… and you have been kind enough to take me this far.”

Something about that must have gotten through to Essek as his mood immediately sobered. “I am sorry,” he said eventually, and Caleb had no idea what he was apologizing for.

Caleb didn’t like sitting in the silence. “So. Your name is Essek, huh?”

“Yeah,” the other man said, staring out at the setting sun. He settled in for a long story. Caleb mirrored the motion. “I’ll save you the sob story of poor orphan Essek Stone. It’s… It’s a bit of a downer.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Essek waved him off. “Drow are not… as accepted in the Empire. And it’s not like I was going to use my name when I wanted the law to believe I was someone else. A friend and I worked together to get what we needed however we needed to. We used to read these stories about this mythical folk hero, a really good guy, named Dezran Thane.” Essek laughed. “He would ingratiate himself to the upper class, kissing ass and relieving assets and power from those who already had enough. He would give it to those that needed it, people like kids hated in a strange land that were down on their luck. Thane was well-liked, and powerful, and rich enough to travel, and a skilled practitioner of magic. Not a very popular and well liked character in the place I was born, or the place I grew up, but that had the added bonus of people not knowing the story and that everything I was doing was a farce.”

Caleb smiled softly. “It sounds like a nice story.”

“It is.” Essek took another bite. “But you can’t tell anyone about this. It could ruin my whole reputation.”

“Oh, of course. We wouldn’t want that.”

Essek smiled back, through the dying light. “The one thing about a reputation, is it’s all a man has at the end of the day. It’s all I got when handsome weapons of destruction take my components.”

He could feel blush rising in his cheeks, not entirely from shame. Caleb let his hair cover more of his face with a subtle movement. “...Maybe I will get the chance to read it some day.”

“The Thane books?” Essek’s face lit up. Caleb always wondered if people out in the world got that desire to discuss the things they read. The clear excitement was very endearing. Caleb caught the very end of a movement before Essek slid his purple hand closer to his own body. Caleb’s attention was drawn again to the fangs in his smile. “You will. I promise.”

Caleb tilted his head to look at Essek. “I am sure it would not compare to you.” Caleb settled his hand, warm and heavy on top of Essek’s, just like it had been minutes before. Just without the layers of hair between them. “But I think it would be nice to read nonetheless. It has been a while since I got my hands on something new to consume.”

Caleb could see an idea form in his companion’s head. Essek twisted to his side as carefully as possible to not move the hand under Caleb’s. His other arm reached for his spellbook, and before he could think it through, he handed it to Caleb. “Maybe… if you wanted to, you could look at this?”

Caleb’s far hand gently moved to brush over the purple stained leather, mouth agape. He met Essek’s eyes, asking for further permission to hold something already in his hands. Another complicated expression passed through Essek’s face.

“Go ahead,” Essek said gently.

Caleb pulled his hand away so he could cradle the book in both palms. He stared at the soft detailed cover of the spellbook and held his breath, a little worried he would accidentally damage it.

When it had gone on a moment too long, Essek wrapped his hand around the freckled one and pulled his book open with it to the first page. Caleb’s breath shuddered but he did not pull away.

“This is…” Essek said, tapping the page. “A spell from my homeland. Fortune’s Favor.”

“Okay.” Caleb said, and nothing else.

“...Would you like to learn it?” Essek asked. “Maybe I could teach you. Not that I do not think you are smart enough to get it from this alone-”

Caleb pondered that. “Is it dangerous?”

“No,” Essek assured him. “It… it does remind me of the ability you used earlier. I’m sure you would have no trouble picking it up.”

That was interesting. “If there is no harm in it, I would love to have your help.” Caleb replied. He was well aware of how important spells were to wizards. He would be honored to learn, if someone wanted to teach him. “If you want to offer it.”

Caleb glanced up to see that Essek’s face was maybe an inch from him, having moved closer in the excitement. His brain whited out for a moment. Essek’s eyes locked onto his. “...I do,” he said. Caleb could feel the exhale of it on his lips. Was Essek really about to-

Frumpkin started yowling, and both of them jumped back. Essek folded his spellbook and put it back in his holster. “I- sorry, I can show it to you later. It’s getting dark, I should really start getting firewood-”

“I can help-”

Essek raised a hand to stop him. “No, don’t worry about it. You look wiped out. Just- I’ll be right back,”

“For the record,” Caleb said loud enough for Essek to stop. “I like Essek Stone more than I like Dezran Thane.”

Essek winced, like the statement hurt him. “Well. You would be the first.” Essek turned his head just enough to look at Caleb through the side of his eyes. “But… thank you.”

And then he was gone.

Caleb pulled his knees to his chest, displacing Frumpkin into the dirt. He made an annoyed little snuff.

“Why did you do that?” Caleb asked.

Frumpkin stared with his beady eyes.

Caleb could feel anger bubble up in him. “Were you trying to ruin that for me? I could- Frumpkin, this is my only chance to do something like this. When I go back-”

Frumpkin hissed.

“When I go back, I will never be able to get out again, do you understand that?” Of course he did, familiars understood everything their mages did. “This is my only chance for something…” Caleb debated a few different words in his head. “For something nice.”

The cat squinted at Caleb. He bapped Caleb once on the shoulder before turning away and walking into the woods, tail raised and asshole on full display.

“Very mature,” Caleb shouted after him. Frumpkin pretended he didn’t hear.

With a sigh, Caleb started to settle for his rest. It was always a long night when Frumpkin decided to be mad at him. At least there would be something interesting to look at through Frumpkin’s eyes, for once. Maybe he would-

“Well,” said Ikithon. Caleb flinched at the familiar voice. He got to his feet and put his back against a tree, trying to decide if he should call Frumpkin back. Or maybe Essek? The darkness had blanketed the woods at some point between the river and then, and Bren’s breath hitched at the thought of being blind and alone.

His father dropped the invisibility a matter of steps away from Bren, close enough that the darkness did not matter. Ikithon smiled, the kind he gave when Bren was about to have more tests, and-

“I thought he’d never leave.”