Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

When you walk, you fall. With every step you fall forward, and with every step you catch yourself again. A cycle of falling and catching, pretending to be a straight line. If you ever stop catching, you fall completely. But for as long as you are awake, you will do your best to catch yourself.

The ground was hard stone, and the sky overhead was far too close. Purple blurred the edges of the world, a shimmer that was almost imperceptible and almost blinding. A fall, a catch. A fall, a catch. A fall, a falter, a catch.

A shimmering nothingness in a stone tunnel. A sense that there must be a self. There must be, somewhere. How else was there a feeling? There must be an observer in order to observe. There must be feet to catch, a body to fall, a man to stumble onward. There must be a being for these senses to reach.

He pushed forward in the tunnel. He was alone. He could not tell where he was, where he’d come from. All the same he pressed on, falling, catching. Shining.

The purple faded and he blinked. He was him. He was a self. His name was Robin, and he was surrounded by stone. These realizations felt basic, and yet paramount. Robin fell, and he caught. He stumbled, but still caught. And he moved toward the light at the end of the tunnel.

A Majiri sat in the grass, the sun shining on his purple skin, his green eyes following a stray butterfly. He was not the only one interested. The bright blue hound at his side also eyed the colorful wings, and he slowly moved towards the butterfly, trying to get closer without startling it. They both completely ignored the approaching footsteps until they stopped right behind them.

The Majiri finally acknowledged the human just before he had a chance to speak.

“Robin, I presume?”

Robin hesitated, caught off guard. The hound, forgetting the butterfly, spun around to greet him, nudging his nose into Robin’s hand. Robin, in turn, rubbed the dog’s fur.

“Don’t act surprised I know your name.” The Majiri stood to face the human. “I know everything that happens around here. Including when a new human shows up.” He folded his arms, rolling his shoulders to adjust the bow hanging across his back. “My name is Hassian.”

“I figured,” Robin responded warily. To the Majiri, he seemed to have a thick accent, as most humans did, but he still spoke clearly. He held up a piece of paper. “Got your letter.”

“My what?”

The corner of Robin’s mouth twitched. “You know everything that happens, but not your own letter?”

Hassian stared at him for a few moments in confusion and annoyance before he realized. “The form letter. The council had me write one for all the newcomers.” He gestured at the bow on Robin’s back. “Here for a lesson, I suppose?”

“Yep.” Robin clumsily pulled the bow from his back. He seemed like he was trying to be smooth, but he almost dropped it in the process. Snatching it before it hit the ground, he froze for a second, then gave a small sigh of relief.

The bow was not well made. It was hasty work with decent wood. Whenever he made bows for the newcomers, Hassian intentionally made them somewhat flimsy. He found it was much more productive to let the humans break the bows and learn to repair them than to try to make a bow that withstands the misuse of a beginner. Robin, however, didn’t know that, and the last thing he wanted to do was mess up the tool he’d been given in front of the man who gave it to him.

The dog went to nudge the bow back into Robin’s hand, or perhaps simply to give encouragement, but Hassian urged him away. “Tau, leave it.”

Robin held the bow and rummaged for an arrow.

“No arrow. Let me see your form first before I let you use anything sharp. I do not need you hitting some bystander.”

Robin blinked in surprise, but switched the bow into his left hand, holding the grip easily. He examined the string, trying to figure out his strategy. Hassian didn’t rush him. He’d rather the human figure things out before he drew something that could hurt him.

Wrapping two fingers around the string, Robin took a breath and raised the bow. He started to draw, but then let out a grunt of surprise and lowered the bow, rolling his shoulder to stretch it.

“It’s not that heavy.” Hassian raised an eyebrow. He glanced at Robin’s thin arms.

Robin looked at him in frustration. “It’s more weight than I thought it would be.” Hassian’s words had clearly stung his pride. Taking a breath, he squared his shoulders and in one fluid motion, he raised the bow and drew it.

He couldn’t hold it drawn for more than half a second before he let out a whoosh of breath and lowered the bow without firing.

Hassian nodded thoughtfully. “Have you used a bow before?”

Robin blinked and looked down. Hassian backpedaled.

“Never mind, I forgot humans don’t have any memories. Nonetheless, I do think you’ve learned to use a bow before. You hold the string correctly, you draw with your back and not your arms, and you know better than to dry-fire.”

Robin smiled.

“That is not praise.”

The smile vanished.

“These are the most basic principles. You are not strong enough to hold the bow and aim, and you may have fired before, but it was clearly a long time ago. You will need to build your strength and relearn some technique.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” Robin muttered.

Hassian subtly rolled his eyes. “Very well. The windmill right there. It’s large, and it’s not moving. Walk ten paces away from it and try to hit it.”

Robin hesitated. He glanced over Hassian’s face, trying to tell if he was angry. Hassian watched him coolly, his face inscrutable. He seemed a bit annoyed more than anything else.

Robin raised his chin and squared his shoulders. He walked up to the side of the building and turned, taking ten paces away from it. Turning, those ten paces seemed longer than he’d anticipated – about 25 feet with his long legs – but the windmill wasn’t too far, and it was big. This shouldn’t be hard. He set his stance, held the bow firmly and nocked an arrow. Looking at the building, he drew.

But Hassian was right. He couldn’t hold the draw long enough to aim. He fired in the general direction of the windmill, and the arrow didn’t even reach it, falling into the grass a few feet away from it.

“I missed,” Robin commented good-naturedly.

“I noticed.” Hassian ignored his attempt to be lighthearted and turned to leave. “You will need to build strength. How you do that is not my problem.”

Robin gave a huff. “You’re not a good teacher.”

“I’m not supposed to be a teacher. I’m a hunter.”

“I’m not sure you’re a good hunter, either.”

Hassian stopped. Tau whined a bit and nudged his hand. Turning back around, he looked at the human for a moment. Robin met his eyes defiantly. There was a hint of a smirk on his lips. The human was deliberately provoking him.

It worked. Hassian did not like this human. He did not like his little smirk, he did not like his arrogance, he did not like the grip on his bow. He did not like the small, successful sting to his pride. So he scratched Tau’s ears and pointed towards the lake. “There’s a small red animal next to those trees, at the entrance to the docks. Do you see it?”

Robin squinted. He barely saw it, a lump of red-orange fur moving through the grass, an impossible distance away. Hassian was already pulling his bow off his back. Tau barked in excitement and made a play bow, ready to take off.

Nocking an arrow, Hassian watched the chapaa closely. This would be a challenging shot, even for him, but he’d made harder ones in the past. The little devil shuffled through the grass, head down, searching. The string felt snug in his fingers, fitting into the knuckles like they were built for it, not the other way around. His eyes followed the ball of fur as it moved through the grass, then stopped and lifted its head. In one fluid movement, he raised and drew, the wood and leather creaking.

His bow had a much, much heavier draw weight than the ones he gave away. Refined with years of improvements, strengthened with use and care, from both himself and his mother, every part had been replaced, becoming a new bow again and again, stronger and stronger as he grew up. Its power in his hands bit into his fingers, drawing strength from his back, bending around him like a muscle pulled taught. At that weight, it wasn’t a good idea to hold it in a draw for much more than a breath or two. But then, he only needed a breath to aim.

The arrow sailed with a soft flitting noise, and he heard Robin suck in his breath as the chapaa fell.

Tau immediately took off, shooting across the field almost as fast as the arrow had. He skidded to a halt next to the carcass and grabbed it, carrying it gently in his mouth back to the two men.

Hassian took it from him with an affectionate scratch behind the ear. The arrow had gone cleanly into the creature’s skull. It didn’t suffer.

Hassian glanced at Robin, who was gaping at the chapaa in disbelief. “Chapaas are not native here. They destroy the vegetation and interrupt the natural balance of the woods. If you want to earn a place here, you will help eradicate them.” He tucked the carcass into his pack to clean later and turned to leave again. “It is only right for the humans to help, before your kind begins to overrun us as well.”

Robin turned his head indignantly, but his words got caught in his throat. Instead, he watched the hunter depart down the path towards town center.

And in spite of himself, the human felt an amused smile tug at the corners of his mouth.

Chapter Text

Hassian’s eyes moved back and forth from the library’s book to his own. He was attempting to recreate a poetry form he’d found, but it was slow going. He was tired, and the words he wanted weren’t quite coming. Eventually he put the books down and stood, stretching his back.

Tau was laying by the fire, sleepily gnawing on an antler. Hassian came down from his spot next to the waterfall to sit on his bedroll by the plumehound’s side. His mind drifted.

“Was I a little harsh on the human?”

Tau gave a little boof around the antler.

“Perhaps. He did have half-decent form, for his kind.”

Tau raised his head in surprise.

“Don’t mistake me. His shooting was appalling. He could barely draw the bow. But at least he seemed to have an idea of what he was doing. I was surprised he didn’t try to fire that bow without an arrow. I expected to have to teach him to repair it.” He looked up at the sky. It was a cloudy night.

“Still, I think what surprised me more was how easily he got to me. I’ve rarely bothered to show my skill like that. I do not know if it was his words or his manner, but he struck a nerve.”

They sat in silence for a while. Hassian buried his hand in Tau’s fur, scratching his back. He let his thoughts pass on from the stranger, and eventually he fell asleep.

The next day, between running errands, Robin decided to join the hunter outside of town again. But this time, he wanted to do things a little better.

Tau greeted him enthusiastically as he approached, but Hassian didn’t bother looking at him. “Hey, buddy! Hey boy! Oh, you’re such a good boy! You’re such a good boy!” Robin gently worked his way past the hound and sat several feet away from Hassian’s side. Hassian shot him an annoyed look, but he just gave a smile in greeting and pulled out a piece of leather to score.

As he scored the leather, he occasionally looked over at Hassian, trying not to be creepy. After a few looks, Hassian met his eyes.

“What are you doing?”

Robin pointed at Hassian’s arm. “Sneaking looks at your forearm thingy.”

“My forearm- do you mean my arm guard?”

“Yeah, that. Got my arm good with the bowstring yesterday.” He gave Hassian a look of mock reproach. “You could’ve warned me.”

Hassian raised his chin indifferently. “Mistakes teach better than I can.”

“Then you’re not a very good teacher.” Robin smiled slyly and went back to scoring the leather. He pulled out a strip of fabric to use to measure his arm.

“You could probably make that arm guard elsewhere. It’s a very simple piece of armor, even for you.”

“Yeah, but that’s not the point.”

“What is the point?”

Robin shrugged. “I wanted to sit with you for a bit. And you don’t seem chatty, so I figured I’d give myself something to do instead.” He refocused on his work.

Hassian looked at him expectantly for several moments, probably thinking Robin would eventually explain himself, but Robin went back to working on the leather, sneaking looks over at Hassian’s arm. After a while, Hassian went back to looking at the sky, contemplating. Robin couldn’t help glancing at his face from time to time. The man seemed thoroughly at peace with himself, if a bit exasperated, and Robin could feel his own mind relax a bit as he focused on the leather arm guard.

The silence settled, only broken by Robin’s work and Tau’s occasionally snuffle. Neither man bothered chatting.

Eventually Robin reached a stopping point and bid Hassian and Tau farewell, setting off to town with the leather tucked back into his pack.

Chapter Text

Robin tried to walk quietly. His bow had a short range, and the chapaa was quick to scare. Taking a breath, he stood straight and drew, trying to mimic the elegant motion he’d seen from Hassian.

But he still couldn’t hold for long enough. The arrow thumped into the grass near the chapaa, startling it into a scurry. He tried to nock another arrow, but he fumbled with it and had to look down, and by the time he got it on, the critter was on the other side of a knoll. Dashing across the grass, Robin got one more shot at it as it dug into the ground.

It stopped mid-burrow, hit by the arrow.

A wide smile erupted on Robin’s face.

Reth was the cook at the inn. Good-natured and suave, he usually stood behind the bar, ladling soup and pouring drinks during the day. But today he lounged on the floor of the patio, resting with one hand on the floor behind him. His cards were on his lap, face down. He had a smug smile on his face, but his eyes were sharp and critical.

Hassian sat with his back against the patio’s bannister. He sat straight, his legs crossed under him, almost like he was meditating. For all Reth knew, the man was actually meditating. Hassian’s eyes moved between his hand of cards and the ones lying on the floor, played in piles or discarded.

Auni, a young Majiri boy, sat watching them, looking from one to the other in awe. Hassian was already someone he found impressive, but Reth was the reigning champion of this game at the inn, and it was rare for him to play Hassian. To him, it was a battle of the superpowers, even though he was pretty sure he knew who would win.

Reth acted easy and confident, but his finger was drumming nervously on the floor. He considered himself quite good at reading people, especially in a card game. His bluster and confidence usually put beginners at ease, allowing them to fumble, and intimidated anyone more competent, which made them act aggressively to counteract him. But Hassian wasn’t so easily intimidated. Furthermore, the hunter’s face rarely seemed to move at all. No matter how good or bad his hand was, or what card was played, the hunter sat quietly, his sharp eyes watching the cards, patient as a predator. It was a whole other kind of intimidation, and it completely disguised what kind of hand he was dealing with.

Fortunately, Hassian was not very good at actually playing. He put down his losing hand and sighed. “Damn it.”

Reth burst out laughing. “You had me going there for a second! I was starting to wonder if you were going to win for once.”

Hassian raised an eyebrow. “I’ve won against you before.”

“Yeah!” Auni chimed in. “Twice!”

“Twice in how many months?” Reth went to punch Hassian’s shoulder, but the hunter’s green eyes bored into him, and he thought better of it. “I thought you’d be cleverer than that, beast boy.”

Hassian raised his chin. “While the games help keep my mind sharp, I do not exactly have a great deal of time to play them. Card games do not catch prey.” He gathered the cards from the floor. “It is unsurprising to me that you find the leisure to master the game, given how little else you do with your time.”

“Why thank y- wait…” Reth frowned with exaggerated confusion.

Auni burst out laughing.

“Is this going to happen every day?”

Hassian sounded a little terse. Robin scratched Tau in greeting. “I mean, I was hoping. You can tell me to leave.”

Hassian rolled his eyes. “I am not in command of you.” He sounded a little like he wished he was. He turned away.

Robin stood for a moment, waiting for Hassian to say more. Then he beamed. “Sweet.” He plopped down in the grass and pulled out the piece of leather.

Hassian glanced at it. “You’ve made no progress?”

“I mean, I was just going to work on it with you.”

“So you haven’t been hunting.”

“I have.” Robin fished out a chapaa tail from his pack. “I’ve gotten a couple things. I’ve just been wrapping some cotton around my arm. Not great and it’ll wear out pretty fast, but it’ll do for now.” Tau sniffed at Robin’s pack. Robin watched Hassian carefully as he slipped a small fish out of his pack and gave it to Tau.

Hassian didn’t seem to notice. “If hunting matters to you, then you will invest your own time into your equipment instead of using it as busywork.”

Robin felt a small flare of frustration. “I want to help with the chapaas,” he said tersely. “But you’ll have to excuse my lack of urgency. I’ve got other priorities besides hunting.”

He went back to work on his arm guard. Tau nudged him with concern, but he gave the dog a couple scratches and kept working, his movements more tense than before.

He didn’t stay as long this time.

Chapter Text

The hunter crouched in a tree, his foot carefully braced against a crook in a branch. His breathing was even, his eyes alert. Half hidden in the foliage, he watched the entrance to the meadow.

It was an ideal spot. A couple of rocks and the tree he was in formed a narrower spot on the edge of the meadow. Anything coming this way would have to come quite close to him. It was a place he’d used for this purpose multiple times, without his prey noticing the pattern. Standing alone in the trees, he waited for the signal.

Tau’s loud barking started up, over in the meadow proper, and Hassian nocked an arrow, ready to draw.

A thumping of hooves and a trampling of grass, and suddenly a herd of sernuk came trotting in from the meadow, funneling into the area Hassian had been watching. He drew and fired, hitting home. The remaining sernuk, unaware of his position, were further startled by the one dropping from their ranks, and some balked, trying to find another way, another path away from their dead comrade. But Hassian could now see a hint of blue fur behind them, a bounding hound, barking, herding them in one direction.

In its hesitation, another sernuk fell to an arrow. The others were forced to flee the threat they could see – the dog clearly chasing them – and still had to pass under the threat they didn’t see.

Hassian managed to send seven arrows total into the group. A couple of them required two arrows each, a total of five sernuk dead on the run. Tau trotted up to Hassian’s tree, sitting patiently, panting happily.

Hassian dropped down from the tree and snorted in annoyance. He was a bit off his game today.

“Good work, Tau. Thank you. Let’s clean up.”

At the inn, Robin spotted a face he hadn’t seen before. A tall, thin Majiri with powder blue skin. He had tattoos on his bald head and a mustache and beard that were well kept. He was sitting by the fire, a bowl of lettuce soup in his lap, talking quietly with Ashura. Ashura waved Robin over.

“Robin! Come meet Chayne!”

Chayne smiled. “Hello, Child of the Phoenix. Always good to meet a new face.”

Robin blinked in surprise. He felt a small amount of dread, but he couldn’t put his finger on why. Chayne seemed perfectly pleasant. “Nice to meet you!”

“Chayne is our ritual sage.” Ashura put a hand on Chayne’s shoulder. “He’s the healer and spiritual guide.”

Robin’s unnamed dread grew, but he forced it down. He refused to make a judgement on this new man. “Huh.”

“It is my job to care for the villagers, both physically and spiritually.” Chayne inclined his head. “Tell me, would you consider yourself spiritual?”

Robin’s discomfort wormed in his gut. “Uh, well… not exactly. I don’t really believe in that kind of thing.”

“That’s alright. I accept the views of all. Even those different from my own.” Chayne smiled warmly. “How else are we to grow if we never expose ourselves to those with different views?”

Robin bit his tongue, trying to figure out what it was about this man that put him on edge. Chayne’s words didn’t do much to calm him down.

“If you ever find yourself in need of medical attention, you can come find me at the apothecary.”

Robin smiled uneasily. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Each day, around noon, Robin took an hour or so to come sit several feet away from Hassian and work at his arm guard. His work was clumsy and uneven, and Hassian was tempted to take it from him and finish it in an hour with much better stitches, but he held his tongue. The human is trying to learn on his own, he told himself. He did not ask for help, and he does not want it.

Tau, for one, was quite happy for all the pets and playing that Robin brought. Sometimes Robin would have a chapaa tail or a spare piece of leather for Tau to gnaw on, and often Robin would take breaks to throw sticks or even just roll Tau onto his back and rub his tummy until the hound’s leg was kicking. Several times he snuck fish to the hound, keeping an eye on Hassian to see if the hunter noticed.

In that time, against his will, Hassian learned a few things about Robin. Robin was a man in constant motion. Working away at the arm guard, he still refused to sit still. His leg shifted, his foot tapped, and he had to change position relatively frequently. During the few conversations he had with Hassian, he would usually stop working to focus, but he still fidgeted with his hands, moving the leather from hand to hand, tapping on his knee, scratching at his jaw.

This wasn’t just true around Hassian. He spotted Robin around town, visiting Jel and Tish, chatting with Sifuu in the forge. He especially saw him around the inn, where Robin would often be coming in around the time Hassian was leaving. Robin would wave, but usually only received a bark from Tau in return. Robin was always moving, leaning, tapping, fidgeting, chatting. He was a very chatty man, with anyone who would hear him talk.

And yet, around Hassian, he was quiet.

After about a week, Hassian finally bit the bullet and asked.

“Why do you come here each day?”

Robin looked up. His arm guard was finally made, and he was working on polishing the leather. “To sit with you.”

“Why? We barely speak, you do work you could do elsewhere when you admit you have other priorities, and then you leave. Every day. I don’t understand what it is about sitting here that is worth taking time for.”

Robin cocked his head. “But I want to sit with you. Just for a bit.”

Hassian sighed. “If you have another reason or a deeper meaning to that, you will need to make it clearer to me. I do not know if you are speaking plainly or if you have another intention.”

“I have no idea what other intention I would have. I like hanging around you. Otherwise, I wouldn’t do it.”

“What do you get out of being around me? What makes this worth it?”

“Hassian.” Robin put down the leather with an exasperated huff. “I enjoy your company. Even if we don’t talk, and even if you don’t like me. There isn’t anything more to this. I just want to take a bit of time out of my day to sit with someone I like sitting with.” He held out his hands, as if to show he was unarmed. “There’s no ulterior motive here. Why is that hard to accept?”

“Because I don’t understand why you would spend so much time around someone who finds you annoying.”

Robin snorted. “You don’t mind me THAT much.”

“What gives you that idea?”

“Because you could very easily avoid me. You could sit anywhere else on this field, you could get up and leave when I come. But you never do. How bad can I be?”

Hassian looked at him in confusion. “That does not mean I want you here.”

Robin put his hand over his heart in mock offense, but he was still smiling. “How dare you, Hassian? At the very least, you don’t hate me. You don’t even dislike me enough to tell me to leave.”

“That is apathy, not companionship.”

“Either way, I’ll take it.” Robin beamed. Next to him, Tau whined at Hassian.

“I know you like his company,” Hassian said to the hound, arching an eyebrow reproachfully. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed him sneaking you fish.”

“Oh.” Robin looked sheepish. Tau barked defensively.

“If I minded, I would have stopped you long ago…” Hassian realized what he was saying and sighed. “I see your point. Regardless, I do not understand your decision.”

“So be it.” Robin returned to the arm guard.

The next day, Hassian wasn’t on that spot in the grass.

Robin’s heart sank a bit. Did the hunter get tired of him? He meandered around the field for a little while, looking for him, when he finally spotted Tau’s blue fur across the field. Over by the entrance to the lake, the dog was napping peacefully. Next to him, in the shade of the tree, sat Hassian.

He could feel Hassian’s eyes on him, even from such a distance. The hunter was watching, seeing what he would do. The message was clear. You said I could avoid you. Now what?

Robin stood by the windmill, thinking. The hunter might be saying he didn’t want Robin around anymore. Maybe that was his new spot. But then, Hassian was a man who spent a lot of time alone. Being around people can be tiring, and maybe he just needed a bit of time by himself. Either way, the hunter didn’t want him there. The only difference was whether it was that day, or permanent.

Everyone needs their space. It was already pushing a little to come sit with him; given the circumstances, it would be too far if he did it again today. Robin turned and walked back towards town.

Later that day, Robin spotted Hassian leaving the inn after dinner. “Hi Hassian!”

Usually Hassian ignored his voice, but this time, the hunter turned – briefly – and nodded a greeting, before continuing back towards the bay.

Robin’s heart swelled. Hassian had acknowledged him.

Chapter Text

Robin came back into the inn in the early hours of the morning. He greeted Sifuu, Hassian’s mother, on her way out. She was a bit drunk and returned the greeting enthusiastically, but couldn’t stay any longer.

Good, he thought. Sifuu was wonderful, but she wasn’t what he was here for.

He came in and leaned against the counter, where the innkeeper Ashura stood. The only other person around was the farmer Delaila, quietly sitting at the table, enjoying a bite to eat and a bit of quiet before she went home.

Ashura smiled down at the human. “How are you settling in? How’s the plot?”

“It’s getting there.” Robin examined the wood of the counter. His voice was quiet. In the wee hours, it seemed wrong to be loud. “Clearing the plot is slow going, and the axe isn’t strong enough for the bigger trees.”

Ashura chuckled. “Once I know you’re not going to chop a leg off, I can teach you to make a new axehead.”

Robin smiled. “Yeah.” Then he changed the subject to the matter he’d come in for. “How well do you know Hassian?”

“Hassian? What’s got him on your mind?”

Robin wasn’t really smiling anymore. He didn’t need to, around Ashura. Something about the large man, his deep voice and his smile, made Robin feel at peace. He’d come to Ashura for advice about this because he felt something similar around the hunter, and he couldn’t quite place why.

“I’ve been bugging him a bit lately, and I’m worried he hates me.”

“Hassian’s not exactly quick to anger. I don’t think it’s possible for him to hate someone. Especially someone he doesn’t know.” Ashura pushed back off the counter to stretch his back. “He may seem grouchy, but that’s how he is around everyone. He doesn’t particularly like strangers. He’ll warm up to you in time.”

“I hope so.” Robin sighed. “I don’t want to stop hanging out with him, but I don’t want to get on his bad side either. And I’m also kind of worried I’m wasting my time. If he’s this much of a prick to a stranger, what kind of friend would he be?”

Ashura shook his head. “He’s a good man. He doesn’t want to be polite, but his honesty can be a good thing. He’s called me out on some of my nonsense before. He would make a good friend, if he wanted to.” He scratched his beard thoughtfully. “If you want to be his friend, the Majiri usually indicate that with gifts. Doesn’t have to be anything fancy, just something the person would like.”

“And ye can never go wrong with a good meal, dear,” Delaila chimed in from across the room. “A boy that age can eat a whole feast himself. Maji knows Nai’o does!” She laughed.

Ashura joined in. “I remember when my boy was his age. They really can eat! Especially considering how much his mother goes through. I don’t know if he inherited her stomach, but if he did, I’m surprised he eats as little as he does at dinner, and he still goes through enough for two!”

Robin grinned. “In fairness, his mom’s appetite may have more to do with the fact that she’s got enough muscle to make an ormuu proud.”

Ashura shook his head, chuckling. “Hassian’s not particularly small himself. Very active people, those two. And more alike than they know.”

This time, Robin came carrying a bowl and a book. As he sat down, he held the bowl out to Hassian. “Brought food.”

Hassian glanced at the bowl. “Tell my mother I can take care of myself.”

Robin’s hand faltered. “...what?” Tau smelled the contents of the bowl, but he was clearly waiting to see what Hassian would do with it.

“I know she put you up to this. Tell her I can look after myself.”

Robin looked at the bowl. “It’s not from your mother. It’s from me. I mean, it was partly Delaila’s idea, but still.”

“It may be from you, but I know Mother had something to do with it.”

“No, she didn’t.” Robin’s voice was getting firmer.

Hassian shook his head.

It was silent for a moment. Then Robin took a deep breath.

“I don’t appreciate being called a liar, Hassian.” His tone was hushed. He’d dropped the mischievous edge he usually had. He wasn’t smiling anymore. Instead, he was looking Hassian in the eye, his expression determined and a little hurt. “I take my word very seriously, and I’m careful with what I say. I may joke, but I don’t lie unless it’s an emergency. This isn’t an emergency.” He held out the bowl again. “This is a gesture.”

“A gesture of what?”

“Friendship.”

Hassian stared at Robin for several seconds, waiting for him to laugh. Or even to smile. He still expected this to be a joke. Robin maintained eye contact, the bowl still held out. He wasn’t going to back down on this.

With a small sigh, Hassian took the bowl. “I am not your friend. But I appreciate the thought.”

Robin’s face relaxed and he smiled, somewhat relieved.

Hassian ate a spoonful of the soup. “Did you make this yourself? Or did Reth make it?”

“I made it, I built a stove yesterday. It wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be.” Robin sat cross-legged and rested his elbows on his knees. “Turns out, a lot of things aren’t as hard as I thought they would be. I don’t even really know why I thought they’d be hard.”

“I heard you’ve begun on a house.”

“Almost finished.”

They fell into silence and Robin opened the book. It was clearly from the library, so he had already proven himself to the librarian. Hassian rubbed Tau’s neck. It was interesting how much the human had already done in a little more than a week.

Chayne walked up the quiet path towards the shrine. The sun was just coming up, and his tall form sent out a long shadow to his left. He could hear the birds just waking up, the snuffling of a sernuk, the song of a few errant crickets…

And an odd thumping sound ahead.

He frowned. He knew that sound. It was a smoke bomb for catching insects, but Auni, the usual bug-catcher, wasn’t usually awake just yet, and certainly wasn’t at the shrine at this hour. But he heard it again: the gentle thump of a smoke bomb hitting the grass, and the patter of footsteps, much too heavy to be young Auni.

He couldn’t quite see the mysterious bug-catcher, so instead he took a step that was just a little louder than normal, subtly announcing his presence. It worked, and he heard the footsteps stop. Coming into the little hollow, he looked around and saw the human, Robin. Robin was frozen in place like a spooked sernuk, one hand behind his back. It was an almost comical pose, and Chayne cleared his throat into his fist to hide his amusement.

“Robin! What do you seek here?”

Robin stared at him guiltily, then looked down and pulled his hand out from behind his back. “Butterflies.” He was holding a smoke bomb. He watched Chayne warily. “I know it’s probably a bad idea to throw these around the shrine, but there’s a butterfly that only ever pops up here.”

Chayne smiled patiently. “I do not think Maji minds.”

“Do you?” Robin asked quietly. He still seemed nervous.

“No, I do not mind either.”

Robin relaxed a bit and looked down. “I promise I will clean up after myself. Oh, before I forget-” He pulled out a bowl. “Breakfast, I guess. I was gonna drop this off at the apothecary, but might as well. Tomato soup.”

Chayne smiled and accepted the bowl. “I am honored by your generosity.”

“Yeah.” Robin fiddled with the smoke bomb. He still seemed tense, and he wasn’t looking Chayne in the eye.

“If I may ask, Robin, are you… afraid of me?”

“I should go,” Robin mumbled. He turned, tucking the smoke bomb back into his belt.

“Robin?”

Robin didn’t look back, so Chayne simply watched him leave the hollow. He sighed and placed the soup by the hollow entrance, so he would remember it on the way out. Taking a deep breath, he pushed Robin’s apprehension out of his mind for now to focus on tending the shrine.

Chapter Text

Although Tau usually stuck close to Hassian, especially when they were traveling to town, he still liked to wander off when Hassian was staying in one place. He explored the Bay in the evenings sometimes, digging up treasures to bring home or sneaking around Hodari’s house in the hopes that his daughter would give him some grilled meat. He ran off when they were close to town sometimes as well. It was unclear what he did, besides chasing bugs, but Hassian trusted him to stay out of trouble.

One day, though, he came back with especially muddy paws. Hassian raised an eyebrow.

“What were you getting into?”

Tau barked happily and dashed after a passing cricket.

Some time later, when Robin came, he seemed a bit troubled. Tau bounded up to him and sat, waving a muddy paw in the air.

“Tau, what were you…” Robin trailed off, trying not to laugh. After a moment, he gave the dog a high five and moved past him towards Hassian.

“Can I talk to you real quick?”

“I have not stopped you before.”

“Tau destroyed the mayor’s garden.”

Hassian glanced over at Tau, who seemed unrepentant. “Is that what you ran off to do?”

“Yeah. I was hoping you could grab some bricks to help me fix it. I don’t want Eshe getting mad at him.”

Hassian nodded. “I’ll speak to my mother and bring some bricks to the mayor’s house this afternoon.”

Robin sat with him for a little while, but it was a short visit. He gave Tau a quick warning before heading out. “If you mess up Eshe’s things, she might end up returning the favor next time.”

True to his word, Hassian came by the mayor’s house before dinner, carrying some bricks for the rebuilding. He spotted the problem pretty quickly. Tau had dug five large holes in the flower bed at the front of the manor, wrecking the brick lining and trampling a lot of the flowers. Robin was kneeling by one of them, moving the dirt back into place, a small pile of colorful plant matter by his side, ready to be replanted.

Tau sniffed at the holes, as if checking his work.

“Tau, leave them be, you’ve done enough.” Robin seemed exasperated, but it may have been from working in the afternoon sun.

“The beds look intact to me,” Hassian commented. “He dug a few holes. I would hardly call that destroyed.”

“Eshe would,” Robin responded, gently moving the dirt back into the hole. “She never forgave him for the newspaper incident.”

“The newspaper incident?” Hassian put the bricks he’d brought next to the bed.

“He stole Eshe’s newspapers and hid them in the bay. She was on the warpath, so I dug them up to placate her.” Robin began rebuilding the edging of the bed with the bricks. “I thought he was just a bit of a troublemaker, and I didn’t mind covering for him, so I didn’t want to bring it up with you.”

“You should have. What concerns Tau also concerns me. He is my hunting partner.” Hassian looked down at the hound thoughtfully. “But he is not a troublemaker.”

“Any idea why he’s doing this, then?”

“Have you tried asking him?”

Robin snorted and turned to Tau. “What’s your problem with the magistrate, huh? What did Eshe do?”

Tau cocked his head in confusion. Robin chuckled.

“Never mind. Good boy, Tau. I don’t particularly like that woman either.”

Chapter Text

Hassian’s mood worsened over the next couple of days. He resubmitted his petition for a solution to the chapaa problem, only for Eshe to track him down in person to tell him to stop, as there was nothing she could do without mayoral approval, and the mayor Kenli seemed to be doing his best to avoid the hunter no matter where he went. When Hassian finally cornered Kenli at the inn, the mayor hurriedly promised to “see what I can do”, but apparently what he could do was nothing, and that was exactly what he did.

Unfortunately, Robin’s presence made things worse. Usually, Hassian could count on this time to calm his thoughts and aim some shots at passing chapaas, but even Robin’s quiet activities got on his nerves. Robin showed up with his book, and just the sound of turning pages and his knee bouncing above the grass made Hassian annoyed. He couldn’t stop thinking about what Robin said the day after they met. About how he had other priorities besides hunting.

He knew it was unreasonable to be upset about that. Of course Robin was prioritizing building a house and learning about Palia over hunting. He was a brand new person in a brand new place. But at the same time, it felt like he didn’t care about the place he’d found himself in. And why would he? Why would he care about somewhere he’d only been for a couple weeks?

He did his best to focus on the card game. Auni had a nasty habit of trying to cheat. He wasn’t good at cheating, he had absolutely no subtlety, but it was good to remind him that he could be caught.

But he saw Robin behind the inn, fishing in the river.

“Damn human,” he growled. “Time for fishing, but no time to hunt. Of course.”

Auni blinked in surprise. “Who, Robin? Yeah, I see him fishing in the lake sometimes. Einar likes him.”

“Einar likes anyone he can teach to fish.” Hassian shook his head. “It seems Robin is intent on befriending all, but helping none. He’s taken to bothering me in the morning, offering no assistance to hunt, but still trying to be friends. As if soup is a substitute for actual friendship.”

Auni looked down at his cards, a little embarrassed. “He comes by the farm sometimes. He’s helped my dad a bit. I think… I think he is trying to help.”

“He’s trying to impress. It’s not going to work on me.”

Hassian was more tense than usual when Robin came to sit with him. As Robin greeted Tau, he started with a hesitant, “Hey, Hassian…”

“Spit it out.”

“Auni said you’re mad at me.”

Hassian scoffed quietly and stood, stretching his back. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Robin raised an eyebrow. “So Auni was lying?” He kept his tone light, teasing the hunter.

Hassian whirled around, his anger flaring up. “I didn’t say that! Don’t put words in my mouth-”

Robin felt a spark of fear. The shouting made his heart speed up, and he took a step backward.

Hassian saw his fear and snarled. “If you have so much time to worry about me, then you have time to help out around the village.” He stared Robin down. “Stop wasting my time and do something useful with yours.”

He turned and sat pointedly in the grass.

Robin felt his heart speed up. Oh god. He’s mad. Oh god I made him mad. I don’t make anyone mad. I don’t even know what I did. Fear rooted him to the spot. Tau whined and nudged his hand, but he didn’t move. He stared at the back of Hassian’s head, trying to figure out what to do, how to deescalate.

This man is not worth being afraid of. Robin turned on his heel and walked away. Tau barked, trying to call him back, but he heard Hassian give the dog a quiet command.

He’s mad at me.

Hassian sat in the grass, his mind occupied. He hadn’t seen it for long, but he’d still seen Robin’s expression. The usual smirk in response to an insult was gone. The usual lighthearted response never came. Instead, he looked…

Scared. Scared, and a little hurt.

Coming from anyone else, a face like that would probably make Hassian back down. To a certain extent, he liked knowing he could intimidate someone. He liked knowing that people would avoid him or see him as unapproachable. But he didn’t want to be genuinely feared. Despite himself, he felt a small bloom of guilt in his heart.

But he also felt vindicated. Robin should feel hurt, he thought. He should feel hurt that he’s spent his time trying to be friends instead of being helpful. He should feel hurt that he wasn’t doing anything against the chapaas. He probably didn’t even feel guilty. He just felt bad that his attempts to be buddies hadn’t worked.

Robin sat on a poorly made chair in his front yard. He needed to be alone to handle the little fear still moving around in his chest.

“Why’s he even mad? He says I don’t do anything to help, but I’ve been running errands since about day 2. Just the other day, he saw me rebuild the damn flowerbed. He knows I was helping to cover for Tau. I’d think if he’d notice anything, it’d be that.” He put his head in his hands. “I give up. I can’t do this. I can’t be around someone if they’re going to fly off the handle without even telling me what’s wrong. I didn’t think he’d be like this…”

But what if he’s right?

No. No, Robin did plenty to help. And he was going to prove it. Not to Hassian, that ship has sailed, but to himself.

Chapter Text

Hassian sat at their usual spot. He wrestled with himself a little about it at first, but adherence to routine – and Tau’s insistence – brought him back. In the morning, he tried to calm himself, to allow himself to focus on the sounds of the wind and grass, on the feeling of Tau’s fur between his fingers, on the sun warming his face. But as the time ticked on, he wondered how Robin would be today. Would he be silent? Curt? Would he try to pretend nothing happened? Would he have a rehearsed response? Would he try to prove himself with a list of deeds?

The time came, and Robin was nowhere to be seen.

After half an hour, Hassian realized he wasn’t going to show up at all.

At first he was relieved. “He finally got the message,” he told Tau. The hound whined reproachfully. “He had it coming. He knew from the start that I didn’t want him around, but he persisted. This is his own doing.”

But despite saying that, Hassian felt a bit guilty. As much of a pest as Robin could be, he wasn’t bad company. The few times they’d talked, he’d poked fun, rolled his eyes at Hassian’s criticism, and generally been lighthearted and boisterous. Other than that, despite being restless and fidgety, he’d been quiet. He seemed content to just exist near Hassian and do whatever task he’d brought with him.

Hassian hadn’t yet thought about how rare that was. Whenever he was around others, they were always encouraging him to be more outgoing, or warning him that he came off as rude. They pushed him to be friendlier, chattier, to smile more. But Robin never did. He never seemed to be judging Hassian for what he said or how he acted. Hassian’s more critical comments were amusing instead of rude. He didn’t bother filling the silence when he had nothing to say. The only time he had ever reacted negatively was when Hassian insinuated he was lying about the soup he’d brought.

Out of everything Hassian ever called him, a liar was where he drew the line.

“I lost my temper,” he said out loud. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

Tau gently boofed in agreement.

Hassian lay back on the grass, staring up at the clouds. He would have to apologize. Even if what he said was true, he shouldn’t have lashed out at someone who was only trying to be his friend. Even if he didn’t want Robin as a friend, that didn’t give him the right to be hurtful. Especially since Robin had nothing to do with the thing he was actually angry about.

Auni caught up to him later that day, unable to start the game before he started talking enthusiastically. “I knew you were wrong about Robin!”

Hassian raised an eyebrow. “Your turn to shuffle.”

“He came by yesterday asking if I needed help with anything, and he snuck me some dessert. And I saw him dropping off seeds for Dad this morning! And Mom said he was helping with taxes this month! And I think I overheard Ashura today, talking about him bringing lilies to the Remembrance Garden!”

Hassian’s hand froze above the cards being dealt. What was a human doing in the Garden of all places? Why would he care about the Majiri dead? Ashura’s wife, Sabine, had a memorial in that garden. If Ashura was commenting on Robin bringing flowers, it might’ve been for her. Or it might have been Leta, Hodari’s wife. In any case, Robin had gone to honor the dead, whichever dead that happened to be.

So this was how he spent his time instead of hunting. Running errands for the farm and visiting memorials. Building skills and friendships while learning about the world and the people. Exactly what Hassian should’ve realized he was doing.

Instead, he accused him of never helping anyone.

Hassian sighed and tried to focus on his hand. He missed Auni gently slipping a card he didn’t want back into the deck.

He owed Robin a sincere apology.

It had taken a while to build up the courage to visit Robin’s home. Robin lived on a newer house plot up in the mountain, further north than Sifuu’s. Hassian felt the guilt in his gut build as he walked, rubbing Tau’s fur to try and calm down. Tau, for his part, stuck close by, occasionally poking Hassian with his nose.

When he reached it, he couldn’t help but stare.

In the center of the plot was a house. Not a particularly large house, but not that small of one either. Sturdily built and brightly painted, with a beautiful blue facade. The front yard was absolutely packed. To one side, a garden was growing, and a couple of machines whirred away, producing planks and bricks ready for use. The rest was filled with hastily made furniture, strewn about with no rhyme or reason. Some of it had been upturned somehow, and a few pieces were stacked too high to be safe. Hassian heard the sound of an axe hitting a tree elsewhere on the plot.

He debated leaving. Clearly, Robin was busy. But as he turned away, Tau, sensing his intention, sneezed in irritation and ran off, dashing around the house.

Hassian heard a yelp of surprise. “Buddy! What the hell are you doing here?!” Despite his initial shout, Robin sounded enthusiastically happy. Hassian could almost see Tau jumping up to greet Robin, and Robin rubbing his ears happily. “Buddybuddybuddybuddybuddy! Who’s a good boy? You’re a good boy! Such a good boy!”

There was a moment of silence, punctuated by the jingles of Tau’s collar. Then Robin said, “How the hell are you here? Where’s Hassian?”

Tau barked and his collar jingles started again. Suddenly he was rounding the corner of the house again, sprinting back to Hassian with his tongue out and his eyes bright.

Hassian gave him a stern glare. “You know better than to run off,” he muttered. Tau just barked happily and ran around his legs. He sighed. “I appreciate you forcing my hand.” He looked up and braced himself.

Robin rounded the corner, looking wary. His face dropped when he saw Hassian. He closed his eyes for a second, collecting himself, then walked forward to meet him, his expression blank.

It was such an odd face on a man who spent most of his time smiling.

“It seems I underestimated you,” Hassian began, but Robin interjected.

“Hi, Hassian,” he said pointedly, a little bit of his usual levity creeping into his voice.

“...Hello.” Hassian relaxed a little. Robin felt more normal when he was being weird. “When we last spoke, I insinuated that you weren’t contributing to the village. I was wrong.”

Hassian paused. Robin took the opportunity. “There’s a limit to what I can laugh at.” His tone was a little harsh, and it caught the hunter off guard. He didn’t think it was possible for Robin to be angry. “Listen, Hassian, you can call me a lot of things – a bad hunter, nearsighted, a bit of an idiot – and lord knows you have. But whatever you call me, don’t you dare say I don’t care.”

He spoke in such a calm, measured tone that if Hassian hadn’t seen him on a normal day, he wouldn’t have thought he was angry. But that flatness was exactly what showed his anger. For a man in constant motion, his voice was surprisingly still, losing its playful lilt. But still his eyes moved, searching Hassian’s face, as if looking for his reaction.

“Why are you such a dick, anyway? What’d I do?”

It sounded like a genuine question. I lost my temper on him, Hassian thought. Why is he blaming himself? His eyes flicked down from Robin’s face.

“You did nothing wrong. It isn’t… personal. I was…” Hassian didn’t want to share too much with a near stranger, but Robin deserved some kind of explanation. “I was misplacing my feelings. I… apologize.”

He was hoping that could be the end of it, but Robin’s face suddenly cleared, turning to concern instead of anger. “What happened?”

Hassian stared for a few moments, debating how much to share. This man had pestered him for two weeks. He’d shown up with a smile and a project, spending his time sitting in a field when clearly he had many other things to do. He seemed to be spending most of his time on everyone but himself, and yet there was still an hour or so every day to spend with the one person who wasn’t excited to see him. But now, without his usual smirk, his face was so gentle. He’d said he liked spending time with Hassian, and now, seeing him so concerned, Hassian finally believed him.

And in some absurd, small way, he trusted him.

“I told you before that chapaas are a menace to the valley. I did not tell you how they came to be.” Hassian raised his chin. “Kenli imported them twenty years ago, when he became mayor. To become… pets.” He couldn’t hide his disgust. Bringing any kind of wild animal somewhere new was a recipe for disaster.

Robin visibly winced, “That would do it.”

Hassian nodded. “I have been petitioning him, unsuccessfully, to do something about this. A few days ago, he pushed new legislation to throw a… chapaa day party.” His fists clenched. “To celebrate the creatures!”

He hadn’t meant to get this worked up in front of Robin, but the human’s response to the news was a relief. Robin went from sympathetic to incredulous, squaring his shoulders indignantly.

“I see you share my feelings on the matter.” Hassian folded his arms. “It’s ridiculous.” He hesitated. “But on the matter at hand, I should not have taken those feelings out on you. Here.” He pulled out a bundle of arrows. “This will help you face the real threat. May your aim be true.”

Robin took the arrows, his face back to its normal smile. “D’you want some tacos? I’m making fish tacos.”

“I’m not staying.”

“Tacos for the road.” He pulled a plate out of seemingly nowhere.

Hassian stared. Tau sat and looked up at Robin pleadingly, whining.

“I know you want a taco,” Robin said, tossing another taco to him. Tau caught it and nearly inhaled it, licking his lips happily.

“Where were you keeping that?” Hassian gestured at the plate.

“I always have food on me,” Robin replied, a mischievous glint in his eye.

Hassian hesitated, then chose to ignore Robin dodging the question. Instead, he looked at Robin’s face for a moment.

His eyes were steady. Although they had their normal glint back, he could still see that gentleness in the greyish blue. They were very soft eyes, under the smirk. This is a gesture, he’d told him before. Perhaps this time, it was a gesture of forgiveness.

Hassian took the plate. “I appreciate the thought.”

Chapter Text

CW: Mentions of animal death

Kenyatta stood over her planters, sneering in frustration. Nai’o stood awkwardly next to her, pressing his lips together to keep from asking questions. Robin came jogging over.

“This the funeral?”

“Yeah.” Kenyatta scoffed, waving at the dead plants. “I don’t know what I did wrong. I watered them every ten minutes!”

Nai’o’s head snapped around to look at her. “You did what?”

“So yeah, I’m not cut out for this.” Kenyatta pursed her lips. “Any other ideas for a Path?”

“I mean,” Nai’o began, “you don’t have to give up just yet. Farming takes some patience to figure out.”

“And clearly, I don’t have enough of that. Robin?”

Robin tilted his head, a hint of a smirk on his lips. “What about furniture making? You definitely see results faster that way.”

Kenyatta sighed. “I mean, worth a shot, I guess. I’ll see if Tish’ll show me something.”

Nai’o patted her on the shoulder. “You’ll figure something out.” His tone seemed a bit doubtful.

Robin shrugged. “Or you won’t. I won’t judge.”

Nai’o stiffened, but Kenyatta smirked. “I don’t really think that’s an option. I wish it’d been farming, though. My mom woulda been pissed.”

She gave the pots one last kick before heading off to the furniture store. Robin and Nai’o watched her go.

“Do you actually think she’ll like furniture making?”

“Not a chance.” Robin grinned. “At this point I’m more focused on getting her out of her comfort zone and seeing some cool skills than actually finding a Path. She’ll figure it out on the way.”

Nai’o shook his head. “Robin, Paths are actually really important to us. I don’t… I don’t think you should joke about not finding one.”

“There’s worse fates than being lost in life. She’s still young.”

“But if she doesn’t find something soon, she’ll probably be forced to declare anyway. Especially considering her mom. If she doesn’t find something herself, Eshe’ll just push her into governance. I know humans don’t do Paths, but a Majiri can’t just wander blindly for the rest of their life.”

Robin frowned. “What happens if she chooses wrong?”

Nai’o fiddled with his gloves nervously. “She won’t. We’ll find something for her.”

It was a chapaa nest this time, but the manner of the hunt was much the same. These burrows always had multiple entrances, and an intruder at one would cause the inhabitants to emerge from another. Even the ones Hassian didn’t see as they left could be hunted another time.

The hunter had a plan. Any chapaa forced to evacuate a nest might not be willing to go back. Digging a nest took time, and it was more likely that the creature would instead go to another nest, increasing the density of chapaas in specific places. From there, they would be even easier to hunt.

By the time he’d eradicated the biggest nests and they scattered again to make smaller ones, he hoped to have significantly reduced their numbers.

Tau’s digging at the hole alerted the chapaas sleeping within. Alarmed by the sound, they erupted from a few other holes. They were followed by arrows as they tried to zigzag, but only a few of the shots missed. The chapaas fled to find somewhere else to hide.

Hassian didn’t stop until they were out of his reliable range. He could keep firing, but he would dull his arrows and miss most of his shots. All the same, he’d hit all but three of the dozen or so creatures who’d fled the nest, and Tau had gotten his teeth on another that had tried, for whatever reason, to escape out the hole he was digging.

This was not a style of hunting plumehounds were meant for. A smaller dog would have an easier time pursuing in the hole. Tau was much better suited to the sernuk runs. But the chapaas had to be dealt with, and there was no one else Hassian would rather hunt alongside.

He wondered how Robin was faring when he noticed movement in the distance. Crouching, he peered through a bush.

There was another one of the chapaas he’d chased away, lying on the ground. His brow furrowed. Had he hit it? He could’ve sworn he didn’t hit one so far away.

And then Robin approached it, makeshift bow in hand, and poked it with his foot. The chapaa flopped a little, still alive, and Hassian’s heart twinged a little. Nothing deserved to be left like that. His own shots hit home frequently enough that he killed with the first shot, but sometimes it didn’t work out that way, especially with a new hunter.

Robin took out a knife and knelt, stabbing the creature in the head, clearly trying to finish it quickly. It did not move again. Satisfied, he took up the corpse and put it in his pack.

Chapter Text

“Hello, Robin.” Chayne stood by the table in the back of the apothecary, behind the statue of Maji. He was crushing up some kind of dried leaf into powder with a mortar and pestle. He smiled at the human as he entered, making his way nervously around the statue.

“Is now a bad time?”

“Not at all, as long as you do not mind talking while I work.” Chayne lifted the pestle and inspected the powder, then picked up a small bottle of oil. “Whatever ails you, I am here to help.”

“I need you to be honest with me.”

“I always am.”

Chayne heard Robin hesitate, then sigh. “What you said when we met… about accepting everyone. How much do you mean it?”

Chayne chuckled as he slowly added oil to the powder. “I accept anyone’s religious or spiritual views. I find a diversity of thought makes life much more rich and beautiful, and I always enjoy hearing from those who think differently from myself.” He looked up. Robin’s eyes moved down, avoiding him. “Is something troubling you?”

“I don’t know how to phrase this without sounding rude, so I’m gonna be a bit rude, and I hope you’ll excuse me. I’m having some trouble believing you. It’s probably just based on past experience, but… it’s a bit hard to accept that someone who has strong convictions about the world won’t try to convince me they’re true.”

Chayne’s brow furrowed. “I believe what I believe, and I do so firmly. That does not mean I believe everyone should believe as I do. Everyone has a reason for what they think. You have yours, I have mine, and I see no reason why mine should be yours.” He inclined his head. “Do you intend to convince me?”

“No,” Robin said immediately, a little defensively.

Chayne smiled. “Then I’m not sure why you think I’ll convince you.”

Robin finally looked him in the eye. The human still seemed to be searching his face, unsure of himself. After a while, he sighed. “Fair point. I’m sorry. I’m not trying to accuse you of lying. I’m just working on not being scared of you.”

Chayne chuckled and turned back to his table, gently pouring the oil and powder into a vial. “Apology accepted. I appreciate you giving me a chance.” He raised the vial to the light.

“What’s that for?”

“Something for Badruu’s hands. The days have been dry lately, and his skin is threatening to split.” Chayne corked the vial.

“I’m swinging by the Daiyas after this. I can take that with me.”

Chayne blinked in surprise. “I would rather examine Badruu’s hands in person, but I appreciate the offer.” He stowed the vial in a pouch. “Besides, my responsibilities are mine to take care of.”

Robin shrugged. “Fair enough. If you ever need something, let me know.”

“I’ve started a small garden behind the temple. If you could get some tomato seeds, that would be very helpful.”

“Alright.”

When Robin showed up on the grass the next day, it was with more food. Apparently, he was set on having food as a strategy for friendship. Hassian didn’t mind. Although he didn’t want to admit it, he probably needed to eat better during the day. He didn’t cook much at home, and he refused to spend more time at the inn than he had to. He already went for dinner with his mother every night, he was not going to go for lunch as well. Besides, Robin brought enough for himself, too, turning these sessions on the grass into regularly scheduled picnics.

That was the other nice thing about Robin’s visits. They were always at roughly the same time, in roughly the same way. Robin had slid into Hassian’s daily schedule, and the hunter came to expect him. There were days that were a little different. Sometimes Hassian spent lunch elsewhere, and sometimes Robin was absent for whatever reason. But ultimately, most days, Hassian could expect a quiet meal on the grass, and Robin’s presence was made tolerable by the regularity.

Their conversations felt easier now. Less formal, less stilted. They still weren’t frequent, but they were more comfortable.

“I saw you strike a sernuk the other day.”

Robin hesitated, rubbing Tau’s fur. “I know you said not to hunt the sernuk too much…”

“One hunter, as long as they aren’t reckless, will not make a dent in their numbers. Especially one with an aim like yours.” Robin gave a small snort of amusement. Hassian looked up at the clouds overhead. “Just make sure you find a good use for the horns. It can take a sernuk fifty years to grow horns like that. You don’t want them to go to waste.”

Robin blinked and pulled the antlers out of his pack. “Damn. How long do those things live?”

Hassian shrugged. “Hard to tell. Perhaps longer than any of us.”

Robin turned the horns over in his hands thoughtfully. “Do sernuk shed their antlers?”

“Once a year, yes, but they grow back greater each year. And for the first few years, they have none at all.”

Robin nodded. “Like deer.”

“Like… what?”

“Deer. Similar animal from back home.” Robin looked over at Hassian. “You could find their horns on the ground sometimes. Depending on the time of year…”

His voice trailed off, as if he’d only just realized what he was saying, and his face clouded in confusion.

“Why do I remember that?”

Hassian watched Robin warily. The humans who emerged had no memory at all. Since he didn’t know the other humans, and many of them had since moved away, he did not know of any that had recovered any memories at all. Even though this memory seemed pointless, the implication would be much more significant.

But Robin wasn’t thinking about any of that. His eyes had slid off Hassian to stare into the distance. He still held the antlers, but his hands were completely still.

In fact, his whole body was still.

Something was always moving on him. A leg, a finger, his head. But now, he sat frozen, like a puppet with no strings, staring in the direction of the lake.

After several long seconds, he looked down at the antlers in his hands, staring at them as if they might give him answers. “A pair of antlers, a pair of hands,” he muttered. “A folding knife, a bow, a saw, a pair of boots.” His voice was so quiet Hassian barely heard him. He sounded… lost. Like there was a riddle that could guide him, if he only sounded it out.

But then he squeezed his eyes shut. “Why can’t I remember his face?” His voice broke. He went still again.

Hassian watched him carefully, trying to see if he was breathing. Then Robin abruptly swayed and collapsed.

The Majiri moved over and shook the human’s shoulder, trying to get a response. Checking his pulse, he thought it seemed a bit too faint. “Get Chayne,” he commanded Tau, and focused on getting Robin to sit mostly upright against his pack.

When Robin came to, it was to a blinding light that seared into the area behind his eyes. Wincing, he covered his face. “Turn off the light,” he muttered.

“That would be the sun,” Hassian responded with some exasperation.

“Turn off the sun,” Robin countered. He tried to pry his eyes open.

Tau set about licking Robin’s face enthusiastically. Chayne sat beside him, holding smelling salts and a glass bottle of water. He gently urged the plumehound away and put the bottle into Robin’s hand. “What happened? Hassian told me you fainted.”

“Is that what I did?” Robin’s voice was hazy and unfocused.

“How do you feel?”

“My head feels like the inside of a bell, and I think I might’ve hit my arm on something, it’s bruising. Other than that, not bad.” Robin lifted the bottle to his lips.

Chayne felt his forehead as he drank. “It’s not heatstroke, so it was probably a lack of water. If you’re going to spend so much time outside this time of year, you need to make sure you drink.”

“Mm-hm.” Robin focused on the bottle for a while, emptying it.

Hassian shook his head. “His memories may be returning. Could that have something to do with it?”

Chayne frowned and started to shake his head, then stopped and looked thoughtful. “Perhaps. Unlikely, but I suppose there are many things we do not know about the human reemergence.” He took back the glass bottle and stood up, brushing grass gently off his knees. “I would recommend laying down for a little while. Take your time before you get up again. And please make sure you are drinking more water in the future. Memories or not, dehydration is not to be underestimated.”

“Thanks, Dad,” Robin said cheerfully, giving a joking smirk.

Hassian rolled his eyes at the disrespect, but Chayne chuckled. “Let me know if you need any more help, child.”

Hassian sat back down just a bit closer to Robin than usual as Chayne walked away. He hadn’t been incredibly worried. On a day like this, a faint was rarely serious. Tau, on the other hand, was still fussing over Robin as he reclined on the pack, doing his best to keep Tau from licking his face and still covering his eyes against the sun.

“He’s alright, Tau,” Hassian assured the hound. “Let him be.”

“How dare you tell the good boy what to do?” Robin rubbed Tau’s ears, keeping his eyes closed.

“Do not talk down to him.” Hassian raised an eyebrow. “He’s probably smarter than you are.”

Robin grinned. “Rude.”

“It’s true. Tau has proven to be wiser than many adult Majiri.”

Robin opened one eye and looked at Tau. Tau looked back at him for a second, then spotted a cricket and jumped after it. Hassian sighed in exasperation.

“He doesn’t always show it, I’ll admit, but do not condescend to him. He has been a loyal companion for years. I consider him an equal.”

Chapter Text

Hassian’s eyes scanned the inn as he walked in from the back patio after a tense card game with Auni. He spotted some of the regulars, and he also saw his mother, Sifuu, sitting at a table. Sitting across from her was Robin.

Robin certainly seemed much better than he had been some hours ago. He was listening to Sifuu and laughing enthusiastically. Sifuu was telling some story or other, her arms thrown around with abandon in the throes of the tale. Her cup was empty; presumably she had already had a drink or two.

Sifuu spotted Hassian approaching and called out, “There’s my boy! Come join us!”

Robin looked up and gave Hassian a friendly smile in greeting, then stood and rapped his knuckles on the table. “That’s my cue. I’ll see you around.”

“No, no, stay! I haven’t finished the story!”

“Sorry, Sifuu, them’s the rules. I don’t intrude on family time. See you tomorrow, Hassian!”

“It would not be an intrusion,” Hassian responded, raising an eyebrow. Deep down, he felt the usual frustration at a change in routine, but he also knew there was a chance that, with Robin around, his mother wouldn’t be quite as overbearing as she often was.

But Robin shook his head. “Nope. This is family time, and I wouldn’t feel right making myself part of it. See y’all later!”

Sifuu called one more objection after him, but he was gone.

Sifuu shook her head. “I swear that guy is avoiding you. He’s never here when you are, and as soon as he sees you he runs for it.”

Hassian sat down opposite her, and Ashura brought over a drink for him. Nodding thanks, he replied, “He does not want to intrude. I would hazard a guess he takes family quite seriously and doesn’t care to interfere.”

“Ormuu shit. What’d you say to scare him off?”

Hassian blinked. “Nothing. And he said himself he didn’t want to intrude.”

Sifuu snorted. “I think he’s just making excuses. He doesn’t seem to care if he’s intruding on anyone else. He’s just trying to get away from you. What’d you do?”

“Whatever I did, it clearly wasn’t successful. He may avoid me here, but he pesters me every morning outside of town.”

Sifuu sat back in her chair, confused. “Really?”

“Every day since he emerged.” Hassian raised his mug. “I do not know why he doesn’t stay here, but I’m inclined to believe he is being truthful.”

Sifuu laughed. “Not everyone’s as blunt as you, Hassian. But sure, maybe he just doesn’t like being around both of us at the same time.”

Robin was wandering in the Bay, looking for sweet leaf, when he spotted someone he hadn’t met yet. She was standing by the stables, rummaging through a satchel on her hip. She caught his eye, with a sturdy corset and shining hair. He hadn’t even realized he hadn’t met everyone. So he jogged over, smiling, to see the new person.

She looked up from the satchel, and her eyes seemed to glint in the evening light. Robin faltered. There was something… hungry in those red eyes. She beckoned him closer. “Well, hello darling!”

Robin blinked. Her tone was welcoming, but with an undercurrent that put him on edge. “Hi… uh…”

“What brings an intriguing specimen such as yourself all the way out here?”

“I was just… there’s some good mushrooms out here. I, um…” He had no idea what it was about this woman that had him stuttering, although he had a couple theories. The corset supported her back, but also gave her a stark hourglass, which usually didn’t affect him, but that combined with her suggestive tone made his cheeks warm up.

“I’m glad you stumbled on little ol’ Tamala, then.” Tamala surveyed him, her eyes flicking down. “It gets a little… lonely out here. I’d love to have a little company from time to time. Especially if that company comes in such a fascinating package.” Her playful smile under her watchful eyes made his heart speed up. His face was bright red, and he took a step backward. But he knew this feeling. It was not just attraction.

It was a mild panic.

“Oh, no need to be afraid of me, darling.” Tamala raised an eyebrow and pushed her hair behind her shoulder. “I don’t bite. Usually.” She approached him, but he backed away. “I know I can be a little… intimidating, but once you get to know me…” Her smile widened. “I can be quite… friendly.”

“Right.” Robin’s eyes were as wide as saucers. “I’ll see you around.” He moved past her, and broke into a jog.

“I hope you do, darling!” Tamala called after him.

She watched him go. He seemed like he would be fun to play with, but the immediate nerves, although adorable, could get old fast. She would see him again.

Robin didn’t stop running. He wasn’t fully sure what he was running from. She wasn’t exactly chasing him. But this open space seemed too big. He ducked through the massive arch of the aqueduct and jumped down from the bridge on the other side, rolling to distribute the force as he hit ground. The cave entrance was just ahead.

He dashed inside the dark of the cave, like a small mammal scurrying into a burrow. This felt better. This small space, where he could see everything, where he could hide. Leaning against an ore node, he closed his eyes and breathed.

What was he scared of? A suggestive woman? A bit of flirtation? It’s not that big a deal. Some people just like flirting, some people like sleeping around. Nothing wrong with that. But his heart raced, remembering her glance downward. What had she wanted from him?

He suspected that he was just scared of hot women, but he wasn’t sure. All he knew was that he felt like prey in her eyes. Like she would bite, if given the chance.

A hand on his shoulder startled him, and he yelled, nearly jumping out of his skin. Hodari yelled too, cussing, and their noise echoed against the cave walls.

“Jesus.” Robin leaned against the wall, trying to slow his heartbeat. “Sorry, Hodari.”

Hodari looked at him warily. “Y’alright? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Robin assured him, but he heard his own voice tremble a little. He pushed the thought of the woman in the corset aside and smiled. “Just a little overwhelmed.”

Hodari nodded, but still looked suspicious. “Yeah, a lot to get used to. But you gotta pay attention in the mines. It ain’t always safe, and it ain’t always just me you don’t notice.”

“Right. Sorry.” Robin stretched his arms up, calming down.

Hodari shook his head. “You be careful gettin’ home.”

Chapter Text

Tau had something shiny in his mouth when he returned to the grove that night. Hassian raised an eyebrow. “What is it this time?”

Tau walked to his doghouse and put the piece of metal next to the entrance, along with a couple other treasures. Hassian stood and walked over to investigate. The metal thing was some kind of cylinder, with a window in the side and prongs on either end. His eyes widened and he went to pick it up.

Broken metal bit at his hand. This was only half the cylinder.

“That’s troubling,” he said. “Where did you find this?”

Tau boofed softly and walked over to the fire, settling in for the night.

Hassian sighed. It would be best if he kept this to himself. The cylinder looked like a battery, and if it was Flow, he didn’t want to explain to officers from the Order that it was technically the plumehound’s. He wondered if it would be safe to mention it to Jina, if only to get it off his hands.

“Jina.”

The scholar yelped and jumped a foot in the air. She’d been walking towards town with her galdur friend in tow, heading to the library. “Hassian! Dragon’s sake, don’t sneak up on me like that!”

Hassian was leaning against the arch over the path. He raised an eyebrow. “I thought you would see me. I’m not exactly hidden.”

“You significantly raised her pulse,” Hekla commented disapprovingly.

Hassian inclined his head to the galdur. “I apologize.” He didn’t apologize to Jina. “I have a question.”

Jina blinked in surprise. “I mean, sure, what is it?”

“I know you’ve been studying the human ruins. Have you seen something that looks like a battery? Or a piece of one?”

Jina watched him warily. “I mean… I’ve seen a couple things like that. Why?”

“What do you do with them?”

“Hassian, are you… trying to get one, or…?”

“No. I am curious what the protocol is for finding human artifacts.”

Her eyes lit up. “Did you find something? I mean, I could take a look. If it’s dangerous, I’d have to get it to the Order, but most things I could handle. Why?”

Hassian shrugged. “I wondered. In case I found something.” The lie felt weird on his tongue. He was never good at lying. All the same, he pushed off from the arch and walked away without saying goodbye, and Jina didn’t try to stop him.

Later that day, Robin came jogging over, greeting Tau with an excited “Buddybuddybuddybuddybuddy!” before approaching Hassian. “I was talking to Jina,” he said. “She mentioned you might have seen a Flow battery?”

Hassian arched his eyebrow. “That depends on why you’re looking for it.”

“I found one on my plot, and once we got it working it unlocked a temple of some kind. Jina thinks there are more around, and more temples.”

Hassian glanced down at Tau thoughtfully. “I see. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that you are interested in human history. Yes, I’ve seen a battery, but it is in no condition to be used.”

Robin cocked his head. “You broke it?”

“Of course not.” He jerked his head at the plumehound. “Tau did.”

Robin looked down. “He did, now?”

Tau barked happily.

“He has a habit of digging holes around the Bay. He often finds interesting things and brings them back to the grove. The other night, when he brought back his spoils, it was a Flow battery.” Hassian pulled the metal chunk out of his pocket. “Half of one.”

“Where’s the other half?”

“I don’t know. He’s likely re-buried it somewhere in the Bay. If you want to go looking for it, I suggest checking by my camp in the north. If you find the other half, perhaps my mother can use her smithy to repair it.”

When Sifuu approached Hassian near his grove, he knew she’d found something. She was beaming with excitement, her steps full of energy. It helped that she was waving something shiny and glowing over her head.

“C’mon, Hassian, we’re going on an adventure!”

“Is that the battery?”

“Robin brought it to me. Said it would probably open a door once it was charged. So I pulled a couple strings, got it up and running, and it’s ready to open up a mystery!”

Hassian took a step back. “You shouldn’t wave a Flow device about so recklessly. And why did-”

Tau interrupted with a flurry of excited barking. He ran around Sifuu’s legs, his eyes on the battery.

“Do you know where the battery goes?”

The hound barked and bounded a little ways away, turning to see if they were following.

“Thank you, mother. Robin and I will see what this is about.” Hassian reached out to take the battery.

Sifuu held it over her head, out of reach. She was significantly taller than Hassian. “Not so fast. I’m not letting my boy run around some old human ruin alone. I’m coming with you.”

“I won’t be alone,” Hassian growled in annoyance. “Robin and Tau will be with me.”

“Right. The human who didn’t exist a month ago, and a plumehound.” Sifuu shook her head. “I know you want to handle things on your own, kid, but you might need my experience with this.”

“I can handle whatever happens.”

Sifuu still held the battery away from him. “Absolutely not,” she said sternly. “Anything could happen in there, no matter how strong you are. I’m not going to lose you. Not if I have a chance to help.”

Her phrasing took him aback. He was used to being alone out in Bahari, and he knew his mother worried, but she let him do it. Apparently it was too much to ask her to leave him alone on this.

“Fine. Where’s Robin?”

“Grabbing some equipment. He’ll meet us in the ruin.”

Chapter Text

Robin gently pushed open the door to the temple. The air was warm. The only light from outside was the open door, no windows or lamps. However, the space was filled with a deep red light from two large pools of lava, one on either side of the walkway.

Hassian and Sifuu stood in the middle of the way, arguing. They both stopped when the door opened, and Robin had the distinct feeling this might be an awkward trip.

“Heyo, let’s go on an adventure!” He called casually. He was trying to break the tension, but his eyes were scanning the walls nervously. As he approached the two, he suddenly put his finger on what was missing.

“Where’s Tau?”

Hassian glared at him, and he took a surprised half step back. Gathering his composure, Hassian jerked his head towards the door behind them. “He ran through the door, right before it closed. My mother and I can’t get through.”

“We could if you’d let me use the hammer.” Sifuu pulled a small sledge out of her belt.

“Smashing through doors in a building that may already be coming apart hardly seems wise.”

“Well it doesn’t seem ‘wise’ to let a dog run around there alone!”

“Tau can take care of himself!” Hassian snarled, but he didn’t seem to fully believe it. “I’d rather you didn’t bring the roof down on our heads!”

Robin raised his hands. “Easy, now, there’s no need to start bickering this early on-”

Hassian turned on him. “Your people built this temple. There must be a way through the door. What did they put here?” He did his best to keep his tone calm.

Robin still bristled a little. “I’m not a mind reader. I especially can’t read minds that have been dead for ten thousand years.”

Hassian started to speak, but Sifuu interrupted from the door. “Can you read their writing at least?”

They both turned to look at her. “There was writing this whole time and you said nothing?” Hassian’s tone was harsher with his mother.

His mother pretended not to notice. “I sure can’t read it, and I don’t think you can. Robin?”

“Scoot.” Robin came to join her and she moved to let him see. He squinted at the squiggles, his lips moving silently. After several seconds, he stepped back and looked up at the arches above the walkway.

Three braziers hung on either side, above the lava. Robin inspected the arches for several moments, then drew his bow and took aim at one of them.

His arrow struck the wall behind the brazier and fell into the lava. He cussed under his breath, embarrassed. Hassian arched his brow and pulled out his own bow. “We may be here awhile if you try to hit them yourself.”

“I’m not that bad. Just let me handle this.” The second arrow hit the side of one of the braziers. A fire flared to life in it, and the symbol engraved on it began to glow.

Two braziers and three arrows later, they both heard something in the door shift. Sifuu pushed against it, and it swung open, rumbling across the ground. The door had settled against the threshold, making opening it difficult, but Sifuu pressed her shoulder against it, and it slowly gave.

Sifuu whooped triumphantly and moved through, but Robin glanced back at Hassian.

“I’ll meet you in the next room. I just want to do one last sweep here.” Hassian turned away.

Robin stood in place, watching him. Eventually, he said, “Tau’s going to be okay.”

Hassian met his eyes for a long moment. “I know.”

Robin hesitated, searching his face, but he couldn’t see anything of the hunter’s thoughts. Instead, he moved through the doorway.

Hassian watched him go, then closed his eyes for a moment. He didn’t want to tell Robin the truth. This whole trip, Sifuu had been more supportive than usual. It wasn’t like she was never willing to help, but this felt different. She was rarely this enthusiastic to look after him. Despite their arguments, she seemed so much more patient than she would be any other day.

He appreciated it. But at the same time, it was an odd feeling. He just needed a bit of distance from her, for a little while.

The next room was massive. Partially crumbled walkways around a giant orb, all floating above the lava, their position suspended in time but their condition deteriorating. Robin stood transfixed for a while, staring at the vaulted ceiling, the massive stone structures held up by unseen force.

It seemed impossible. And yet, something began knocking at his consciousness, like a reminder he’d seen this before. He felt a headache coming on.

Pushing away from that feeling, he followed Sifuu around the walkway. Three massive doors around the edge of the room led to other places in the temple. The one to the left of the entrance was thoroughly blocked by debris, and the one opposite had a similar puzzle to the entrance. The one to the right was unlocked, and Sifuu pushed through it.

The room was surprisingly small. A lit brazier stood next to a mural of a small fox-like animal with two tails, sheltered by a galdur from carved rain. Sifuu smiled at the stone relief.

“Awww. A kitsuu.”

Robin blinked. “A what?”

“They didn’t have them in your time?”

“Not that I remember.” Robin squeezed his eyes shut against the headache that flared up. “But then, I don’t really remember much.”

“Right, right,” Sifuu said, feeling a little guilty. “Well, anyways, that’s a kitsuu.” She pointed at the animal in the carving. “It’s… kind of like a plumehound, but on fire.”

Robin’s eyebrows shot up.

“It likes that kind of thing!” Sifuu said hurriedly. “Kitsuu love hot areas and being on fire. I thought they were a myth, or maybe they just existed with humans.” She looked up at the mural. “Kind of reminds me of a story I used to tell Hassian…” her brow furrowed, then cleared. “Oh well, I’ll remember it at some point. Anyway, I think we should set things on fire.”

Robin looked up at her with utter confusion.

“What? It’d be thematic. Here, I never go adventuring without some torches.”

With some reluctance, Robin accepted the torch, his eyes glancing to the lit brazier in the center of the room and the unlit torch by the mural.

With the torch lit, the mural shifted and slid to the side. Beyond was a narrow passage that turned not far from the door.

“Mazes,” Robin muttered. “Well, here we go…”

Chapter Text

It took some time and a few choice words coming from the maze before they heard more rumbling from behind them. Eventually Robin returned, handing the torch back to Sifuu, now quite a bit shorter and more burnt than before. “I have no idea what I just did.”

“You do seem to have accomplished… something,” Hassian said. “I heard a noise back in the main room.”

“Nice!” Sifuu peered into the maze. “I would’ve gotten lost in there. Mazes aren’t my strength.”

“No sign of Tau, though.” Robin glanced at Hassian.

“No matter. I’m sure he is waiting for us at the final challenge.”

Leaving the room, Robin was initially disappointed to find that the main room seemed unchanged, but as they walked on, they realized four murals had appeared, one facing each door, including the entrance and the door they couldn’t access. The murals each featured a kitsuu and a galdur, with the same style as the one they’d seen before. Sifuu examined the nearest one, a depiction of the galdur being struck by the antlers of a sernuk.

“Yeah, it’s that one story. Dammit, how’d it go…”

The other murals showed similar scenes. A kitsuu curled up on the broken galdur, and then the two of them together, moving again.

“Doesn’t look like the last door opened, though,” Hassian said. “Robin? Any thoughts?”

“Just because this place was built by humans doesn’t mean I have all the answers,” Robin growled. “Can’t you figure it out?”

“This is still your people. Surely you have some insight.”

“Some, yeah, but I shouldn’t be solving all of this by myself.”

“I contributed the torch,” Sifuu chimed in.

Robin glared at her. “Yes, very helpful. You helped set things on fire. Congratulations.” The sarcasm seemed more biting coming out of someone who was usually so cheerful.

“Do you not remember this place?” Hassian asked, his eyes scanning the room for clues.

“No, actually, because I barely remember my own damn name.”

Sifuu wasn’t helpful. “But you can read their writing.”

Hassian shook his head and turned towards Robin, his voice rising. “Just think. What would the humans have done to-”

“How the hell should I know?!” Robin exploded. “Every time I see something my people left behind, it looks nothing like anything I’ve ever seen! Some of it is vaguely familiar, but only some of the symbols! I don’t know where I came from, but it sure wasn’t here! This wasn’t my people, Hassian! It might as well be yours!”

Hassian took a step back. He’d seen Robin mildly stressed out before. He’d seen him nervous. He had never seen him yelling like this.

But even then, under all the energy, he didn’t seem that angry. He seemed… frantic, and a little scared.

“I am sick and tired of you, and Jina, and Zeki, and everyone else thinking I know what happened! Just pushing me into these puzzles and expecting me to know what to do! You know what I remember of my own people? The people I grew up with, the people who took care of me? A handful of impressions, a few different smells, and a single face! One face, out of everyone I ever knew! I don’t remember our architecture! I don’t remember our engineering! I don’t even know how the hell Flow works, much less how we used it! I can read our language, and everyone’s just accepted that that means I’m some kind of conduit of history, that if they study me hard enough, maybe they can figure the old humans out! Well maybe I don’t care! I don’t care about these temples, I don’t care about my history, I don’t care about my memories, and I couldn’t give less of a damn what happened to my people.”

Robin stopped to take a breath, and Hassian took the chance to ask, “Then why are you here? Why did you come?”

Robin grabbed at his hair. “I don’t know! I was hoping this place would help, that I’d find something familiar! I don’t know why I bothered, nothing’s familiar anymore! None of this matters! I keep trying, I keep hoping, I keep trying to find my way home! Well, home’s gone! Everything’s gone! SO WHY THE HELL AM I STILL HERE?!”

The lava moved below them, a deep, gentle, constant noise. But it felt like nothing else would move. Like the stone was holding its breath. Robin stood with his head in his hands, breathing heavily. After several seconds, he let out a pained whimper.

Hassian stepped forward. “Are you alright?”

Robin didn’t answer. Sifuu stared at him, every bit as surprised as Hassian by the outburst. Massaging his temples, Robin lowered himself to sit on the ground.

After a moment, Sifuu sat down beside him. “I remember the story,” she said quietly. “About the kitsuu and the galdur. The murals.”

“Mother, let him breathe for a moment.”

“Hush.” Sifuu took a deep breath. “One day, a young kitsuu was separated from its parents. Lost in the woods, it searched high and low, in trees and burrows, in bush and branch. It was still searching when the rain began. The droplets clung to its coat and soaked its fur. Kitsuu are not meant to handle water, and the little kitsuu felt the cold creep in. Just as it started to give up, a galdur found it shivering.”

Robin looked up at the mural in front of them. A galdur, holding a large leaf over a small kitsuu, a kind face on a mechanical body. He could almost see the little one shaking.

“Lost, the kitsuu stayed close to the galdur, and the two became inseparable. Whenever things got dark, they leaned on each other. They relied on each other for light and shelter, for companionship and help. But one day, the kitsuu and the galdur were out traveling, and the galdur got hurt. He was hurt so badly, he… stopped responding.”

Robin had seen the murals. He knew how the story probably ended. But his heart still sank for the kitsuu.

“The kitsuu refused to leave him. He stayed and cried on his lost friend, curled up on him for days. He never lost hope. The galdur had kept the kitsuu's spark alive... and that spark endured. Hoping its friend would return.”

The gentle sound of the lava underneath, the slight echo of Sifuu’s words in the space, the sight of Hassian, looking down on them, concerned but unwilling to intrude…

A bed, covered in light from the window, a decorated mask hanging on a wall, a man’s wrinkled hands holding out a complicated bow for him to take…

“The kitsuu's tears pooled in the galdur,” Sifuu continued. “And one day… The galdur woke up.” She waved her hand in the direction of the final mural, her voice hopeful. “That's why they say the kitsuu's tears are magical. They represent pure love. Hope, persistence, and a deep bond.” Sifuu gazed at the mural in front of them, satisfied. “I don’t know what the story has to do with this temple, but it seems like… the temple was almost built around it.”

Hassian finally spoke up. Bracing himself, he said what he’d been thinking while Sifuu was telling the story. “We need to press forward. Robin, I know you are not familiar with this temple, but you are still our best hope at solving its riddles. The door… do you know how to open it?”

He prepared himself for another outburst, or at least some frustration. But Robin stayed silent, staring at the mural. After a while, he pointed at the top. His voice was a little hoarse, but calm.

“There’s symbols on the tops of the murals. Same symbols as the ones next to the door. Hit them in the order of the murals.”

Hassian nodded. “I’ll meet you two in the final room.” He pulled out his bow, checking the mural to see which symbol it had before walking around the walkway to check the other murals. He couldn’t help but feel frustrated at the delay. Surely Robin could handle his identity crisis later, once Tau was safe.

The final door opened, and Hassian pushed on. Behind him, he heard Robin and Sifuu approaching. More specifically, he heard Sifuu, her footsteps heavy and obnoxious. Robin had apparently recovered while he was looking at the murals. As he entered the next room, he spotted a small bit of blue, and his heart jumped.

“Tau!”

Tau was on the far side of yet another massive room. Hassian could barely make him out. He jogged into the room, his eyes scanning for traps, but once he saw the middle of the room, his heart dropped.

There was a set of stairs leading downwards, but the masonry ended abruptly. Down below, a huge pool of lava filled the room from wall to wall. No walkway, no ledge along the wall, and way too far to jump across. He stared across, watching Tau. The plumehound had to get across somehow. But had the way he used crumbled? Was he stuck here?

And then he noticed a different furry shape.

In the middle of the platform, across the lava, stood a circle of stone. An upright sculpture, now broken, of a ring. And in the center of it, he saw something soft and orange, with two tails…

He heard Robin and Sifuu catch up to him. “Tau is right there. With a kitsuu. I think. We just need to… figure out how to get to them.” He desperately scanned the stairs, trying to find some hint. Some sign of a way across. There had to be something…

“Writing!” Sifuu called from a statue. Robin sighed and headed over.

“Our trust can only be passed to those who return it. Take a leap into the unknown and earn it.” Robin’s face scrunched up. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Seems pretty obvious to me.” Sifuu shrugged.

Then she turned and ran down the stairs at a full sprint. At the very bottom, she launched herself into the air. “GERONIMO!”

And then she hit something invisible, and her legs almost collapsed at the unexpected halt.

She was standing on an invisible walkway.

“Aha!” She yelled triumphantly. “Not quite what I expected, but I’ll take it! C’mon, kids, let’s go meet a kitsuu!”

“What in Maji’s name were you thinking?!” Hassian jogged to the edge of the stairs and extended a foot carefully. Sure enough, he felt a path through the air, sturdy under his foot. Putting his weight on it carefully, he moved towards his mother. “That was incredibly reckless! What if there was nothing here? What if it had already fallen down in the ten thousand years since this place was last occupied?”

Sifuu scratched her head. “To be honest, I kind of just thought this was fake lava. But the writing said to trust the humans and jump, so I did.”

“You placed your life in the hands of a people that have been extinct for thousands of years, in a temple they built that is crumbling. Surely there was a better way to figure out how to cross.”

“If it looks stupid but it works, it ain’t stupid,” Robin said, passing them both on the path and heading confidently towards the platform. He stopped for a second, thinking. “But next time, maybe let me do the dangerous thing?”

“And miss out on a chance to do a dangerous thing?” Sifuu laughed. “Not a chance.”

“And you’re not any more likely to be able to swim in lava,” Hassian added dryly.

Robin turned and gave a tired smile. “Sure, but I don’t have anyone to miss me like she does.”

That stunned both of them into silence. After a moment, Robin sighed. “That sounded funnier in my head. Sorry.” He continued to the platform.

Sifuu followed him, but Hassian hung behind a bit. He still didn’t fully trust this, and he wondered at Robin’s words, but the three passed without incident.

As soon as Robin reached the platform, the kitsuu vanished with a flurry of tails into the sculpture. Tau dashed over and jumped up onto Robin, trying to lick his face.

“Not the face, buddy!” Robin started to give him scratches, but he was off again to try and tackle Sifuu. As soon as Hassian set foot on the platform, Tau forgot both of them entirely and slammed into Hassian’s legs, nearly bowling him over. Hassian, in response, dropped down to a crouch and threw his arms around the hound, hugging him tightly while muttering admonishments into his fur.

Looking at the two of them, Robin felt something. A small stirring in his heart, like something uncoiling at his center. Tau snuggled further into Hassian, his tail wagging furiously, and Hassian buried his face into the dog’s neck, his hands splayed into the fur, his arms tense…

Sifuu interrupted Robin’s train of thought, and the feeling was quickly drowned out by the gentle but insistent pounding in his head. “Robin,” Sifuu called, jerking her head to get him to join her by the sculpture.

Robin walked over and Sifuu lowered her voice. “Give them a moment.” Her volume went back to normal and she said, “A kitsuu, huh?” She was clearly trying to find something to talk about.

Robin nodded. “Might’ve been trapped here.”

“D’you think it’s the last one?”

“I doubt it. Unless kitsuu can live thousands of years, there have to have been multiple generations down here.”

“We don’t know how long kitsuu live.”

“No, but I still find a kitsuu staying down here for so long unlikely.” Robin pointed at the hole where the kitsuu vanished. “Probably a whole nest in there, maybe a little family. And there might be more hidden around the temple, like a small colony of little guys.”

Sifuu snorted. “Hidden where? Unless they live in lava, we haven’t seen anywhere else that could be a nest.”

“Little critters like them can hide damn near anywhere. Someone our size wouldn’t find them, no matter how hard we looked.” Robin pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to hold back the headache. “In any case, Tau’s okay, the way back is clear, there should be…” He glanced around. A mural with some pieces out of place adorned the back wall. Walking over, he began fiddling with little levers at the base of the mural.

One square of it moved with a small rumble. Then another. As Robin flicked the lever, the piece of the mural moved back into place. Hassian looked up from Tau in confusion. “What is that?”

Robin shushed him and moved the last piece into place. The entire mural glowed a gentle purple, as Flow moved through it.

It was a depiction of a kitsuu.

“Goddamn, these people loved kitsuu,” Robin commented. Then he dusted off his hands dramatically. “Alright, Tau’s safe, puzzle’s done, Jina’s probably gonna be happy… I’m out. Y’all coming?”

“We’ll catch up,” Sifuu answered. “I think we need some family time.”

Robin nodded cheerfully, but he seemed a little uneasy as he headed back to the invisible path.

Chapter Text

When Hassian and Tau left the temple, Tau immediately darted off to one side.

“Tau, where-” Hassian started to ask, but then he saw where Tau had gone. Robin sat on the ground, slumped against the wall of the aqueduct ruins, and he didn’t react to Tau’s licking.

Hassian came over and checked his pulse. Steady, and he was breathing fine. It would be pretty far for Chayne to come out, and he’d rather not have to call for the witch that lived nearby. So instead he sat next to Robin and gave him a few minutes to wake up on his own.

Sitting, he had a chance to look up at the stars. They were mostly blocked by the remains of the aqueduct overhead, but he could still find the Smiling Kitsuu constellation, winking down like it was about to vanish. He admired it for a while before he heard Robin groan.

Tau started licking again, and Robin raised a hand. “Not the face, buddy.” The hand initially warded off Tau from licking his face, but then it moved to massaging his forehead.

“Are you alright?” Hassian asked.

“Yeah, probably.”

After a moment of silence, Hassian said, “Back in the temple… you were right. You came to help us, and we left the entire adventure on your shoulders. We should’ve done more to help.”

“No,” Robin cut him off. “That temple may not have been built by my people, specifically, but as a human, it’s much more my heritage than yours. Plus I was the only one who could read in there. I’m sorry I lost my temper. It’s just…” He looked up at the sky. “I’ve started to get some of my memories back, but never the ones I really want. I know what some people smelled like, but not their faces. Or even their names. I remember a vaulted glass ceiling, but nothing that was under it. And every time I try to focus on something, every time I try to remember, it feels like my head is going to split. I spent that entire temple trying desperately to remember anything I could about kitsuu, or about the temple itself, or the maze. God, that maze. I just about passed out in there. That temple was my responsibility, and I felt like an idiot. So I lashed out. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t blame you. I was having trouble myself, even without a headache. It was… disorienting in there. And without Tau…” Hassian faltered, then took a deep breath. “I was never very good with direction. I knew I somewhat relied on Tau to know the way, but I hadn’t realized how much. I wish I’d helped you in the maze, but… I do not know if I could have found the way out.”

Hassian looked over at Robin. It was odd, seeing him like this. He looked so lost, so melancholy. Even when he’d fainted before, he’d covered up his fatigue with humor. Back in the temple, he must’ve been hurting the entire time, but he never let it on until he snapped. Now, seeing him stare at the sky, as if someone up above might have an answer for him…

He was taller than Hassian, but in that moment, he looked so small.

“I was never meant to be here, Hassian. I was never supposed to be in this world. And I don’t think… I’ll ever feel like I belong. No matter how hard I try…”

He trailed off. Hassian took a deep breath. “Even if you do not feel like you belong… this is your home now.” He felt like he was talking to himself. He knew his words wouldn’t sink in – they didn’t when Chayne told him the same – but he still needed to say them.

They sat still for a few moments, but Hassian could feel his own sleepiness taking over. It was past the time he usually went to bed, and his stomach twisted at the thought that getting enough sleep would require throwing off his schedule tomorrow. “Do you think you’ll be okay getting home?” He asked Robin.

Robin was quiet for a second, then nodded. “Yeah. Most of the headache’s gone.”

“Good. No respectable Palian should be up at this hour. Not if they can help it.” Hassian stood.

Robin’s mischief returned. “I’m barely a Palian, if at all, and who says I want to be respectable?”

“I consider myself respectable, although I would not call you such. Good night.”

“See you tomorrow, Hassian. ‘Night, buddy!”

Chapter Text

Sure enough, Robin came by the next day. This time he brought tacos and a sketchbook. After giving Tau a taco, he settled down in the grass and stared at the page for a little while before deciding to just sketch some lines and see what happened.

Tau peered at the page curiously, and Robin turned it to show to him. “It’s a bow. I think…”

Hassian looked over and raised an eyebrow. “Is that what you’re trying to draw? It’s unlike any bow I’ve ever seen.”

“That’s the thing. It’s a weird bow. I’m trying to draw the one I learned to use, but I have no idea if it looks right.”

“You learned to use a bow like that? No wonder you struggle to aim with the new one.”

Robin shrugged. “I know it looks weird, but there has to be a reason.”

“Why are you drawing bows?”

“I talked to Chayne this morning about the memories. He suggested finding a way to let the memories come back on their own instead of straining for them.” Robin continued adding detail to the curious circles his bow had on the ends. “I’m really hoping that if I can remember the bow, maybe it’ll help me remember who taught me to shoot it.”

It was quiet except the occasional scratching of a pencil. Hassian contemplated the grass.

“Oh, by the way, Reth asked me to pick up the meat for the inn.”

Hassian snorted. “He sent you to do his work for him? Why am I not surprised?” He pulled a packaged parcel of meat out of his pack and dropped it onto the ground in Robin’s direction.

Robin was a bit taken aback. He wasn’t used to the edge of venom that had crept into Hassian’s voice. “Do you have a problem with Reth?”

“A problem? I don’t think about him enough to have a problem with him.”

Robin waited, looking at Hassian expectantly. Hassian sighed in annoyance. “It’s one thing to betray everything your parents set up for your future, and another to flaunt it. He wears it like a badge of honor, when it is a mark of shame to stray from your path.” When he looked at Robin, it was with a scowl. “But I wouldn’t expect a human like you to understand.”

Robin raised his chin. “It’s a little hard to understand when you won’t explain, so yeah.”

“Either way, I urge you to be cautious in helping him. Especially if he is going to use you to handle his work.”

“I’m doing a favor for a friend, Hassian. Not that different from what I’ve done for you.” Robin’s words were pointed.

Hassian shrugged them off. “What you have done for me, you have done of your own accord. Reth is less likely to accept a refusal. He can be charming, but he cannot be trusted.”

Robin stood and picked up the parcel of meat. “You’re right,” he said. “I don’t understand.”

“If he’s truly your friend, then ask him to explain.” Hassian returned to the grass as Robin walked away.

Robin returned to the inn with a parcel of meat and a few cans of pickles. He didn’t see Reth, so he stashed them both in the kitchen and headed out. At the door, he bumped into Ashura.

“Robin! Have you seen Reth around?”

Robin shrugged. “Yeah, I saw him for a bit. He told me to let you know the chores are taken care of.” It wasn’t technically a lie. Even if he’d said Reth took care of the chores, he kind of did by asking for help with them. It was dishonest enough that his stomach squirmed, but technically honest enough to get away with.

“Huh. He isn’t usually so on top of things.” Ashura frowned. “How is he?”

Robin hesitated. “He seemed… pretty stressed out, to be honest. I’m a little worried.”

Ashura looked out of the inn, towards the furniture shop. “I’m surprised he let you see that. He usually pretends everything’s fine.”

“Oh, he did.” Robin scratched at his neck absently. “At least, he tried. It didn’t work. Any idea what’s going on with him? Maybe I’m overthinking, but it feels like he’s doing too much, even though he doesn’t do all that much.”

“I get that sense as well. I’m not sure why. He’s always been like that, ever since he and his sister moved here. If you ever do work it out, will you tell me?”

“No promises, but I’ll try.”

“Thank you for helping him, Robin.”

Chapter Text

Robin still showed up again the next day. And the next. Most days he brought the sketchbook and fussed over vague shapes, occasionally giving himself a headache and a couple of times passing out on the grass. Hassian didn’t trouble Chayne, since these fits went away on their own, and each was shorter than the last. Instead he passed the human a waterskin when he woke up, remarking on his irresponsibility.

Robin’s skill with hunting grew, bit by bit. He mostly hunted the striped chapaa out on the plain, selling the tails for profit and using the little guys as target practice for the times he hunted the larger and faster sernuk, or even the sleek muujin who hid in the trees. Over time, Hassian taught him more tricky recipes for his arrows, and he upgraded the bow he’d been given. As his arms grew more muscular, the draw weight – and therefore the range – of his bow increased. He aimed quickly, shot quickly, and killed quickly.

And his cooking skills improved as well. He brought more difficult dishes, each made with more skill. His tacos were still Hassian’s favorite, but he couldn’t deny the human was a skilled cook. Tau’s favorite, naturally, was whatever Robin happened to bring that day.

“I finally figured out why I bring food to people,” Robin said one day, as he handed Hassian a bowl of stew. “Part of the reason, anyways. It was something I used to do a lot. I had some friends who would forget to eat, or who struggled to eat for some reason, so bringing each other food became a way to check in on each other. Make sure everyone’s okay.”

Hassian raised an eyebrow. “You bring food out of concern for me?”

Robin shrugged. “I guess, kind of. I bring food to a lot of people. Your mom and Ashura each have a pretty bad sweet tooth, and Ashura also likes fish. Hekla sometimes asks me to grab some food for Jina, and that girl definitely reminds me of the friends that wouldn’t eat. Zeki likes seafood, and Reth’ll eat anything that can be considered soup.”

“Reth is consistently surrounded by soup. I do not understand how he doesn’t grow sick of it. The rest of us have.”

“Some people just don’t get sick of some foods. You never know, maybe it’s just a texture thing. Anyway, I’m currently in the process of convincing him that cereal is a soup, so if his recipes start getting weird, that’s why.”

Hassian blinked in surprise. “...why would cereal be a soup? And why bother convincing him of such?”

“I’m doing him a favor,” Robin said, leaning back on his elbows and grinning. “I’m broadening his horizons to all manner of soup-adjacent foods.”

Hassian shook his head, taking another spoonful of the stew. “I don’t understand why you spend time around that man.”

“Because he’s fun to talk to.” Robin glanced at Hassian. “He’s a sweetheart. I know you don’t like him, but he’s a good man. Besides, you’re currently eating the fruits of that friendship.”

Hassian stopped chewing for a moment.

“The recipe was Ashura’s, but Reth taught me how to build my stove, and he taught me most of the recipes I know. You don’t like him, but I do. And what do you care if I spend time with the wrong person?” Robin eyed Hassian mischievously. “What, are you concerned for my wellbeing?”

Hassian didn’t take the bait. “I’m concerned you will cause him to dodge his responsibilities. You will likely make him worse by not holding him accountable.”

“Or I’ll be a good influence. You never know. Sometimes a guy like that just needs to be around someone that doesn’t openly judge him.”

Chapter Text

A couple days later, Robin showed up holding antlers. He presented them to Tau. “We need to talk.”

Hassian wasn’t quite sure if Robin was saying that to him or to Tau. Either way, he responded, “What is it?”

“Tau left antlers all over the mayor’s house. Stashed them everywhere. Eshe came round my place ranting about him throwing trash around.”

Hassian took an antler from him and examined it. Apart from some little tooth marks, it was pristine. Even the tooth marks were very small. Tau had a soft mouth, and was used to holding things without biting too hard. “This is hardly trash. These must have been shed very recently. They’re in very good condition.” He handed the antler back. “Eshe should be grateful. Antlers like these have many uses.”

Robin shook his head and held out the antlers to Tau again. “Either way, if you get an angry letter from Eshe soon, don’t blame me. Do you know why he’s been messing with her lately?”

“I know there must be a reason. And if she’s too ungrateful to appreciate the gift, then that’s her issue, not his.”

“I know, but I’m worried. With the stuff he’s been pulling lately, it wouldn’t surprise me if she retaliates one of these days. She’s already made threats.”

Hassian started. “What kind of threats?”

“Mostly just to ban him from town, but I don’t know how much she means that, or what else she’d be willing to do. She knows he has a mind of his own, and she thinks he’s being intentionally disobedient.”

Hassian looked at him in disbelief. “Yes, he has a mind of his own. He’s an independent creature. He’s not some pet who misbehaves. He acts how he acts, the same as you or I. She might as well say you are disobedient.”

Robin sighed impatiently. “Either way, can you talk to her about this? Sort it out? I can only do so much to defend him.” He presented the antlers to Tau again.

Tau looked up at Robin in confusion and let out a small whine.

“Keep the antlers,” Hassian said, clearly understanding the hound’s intentions.

Robin shook his head. “They were Tau’s gift to Eshe. By right, they belong to him.”

Hesitantly, Tau took the antlers in his mouth, but then he immediately plopped them back into Robin’s hand. Robin gave a small sigh. “C’mon, buddy.”

“No. They were his gift to Eshe, but now they are his gift to you.”

Robin looked up at Hassian, then down at Tau. Finally, he reached up to scratch behind the dog’s ear. “Thanks, buddy.” He tucked the antlers into his pack, and Tau barked happily. “I could use some sernuk horns, anyway.”

“Then perhaps you’d go hunting with me tomorrow.”

Hassian had intended to invite Robin on a hunt for some time. He’d seen glimpses of the human’s abilities, but he wanted a closer look. Besides, it had been a while since he’d hunted with someone besides Tau.

Robin stared at him for several seconds, and he wondered if he’d offended the man. Then an incredulous smile broke out on his face. “You want me to hunt with you?”

“Yes. It would be an interesting challenge, dealing with an amateur on the hunt.”

Robin burst out laughing. “There’s the Hassian I know!”

Chapter Text

The shrine sat in a hollow, some distance away from town. The hollow was edged by cliffs on three sides and a massive rock on the fourth. The only entrances were two spaces, one on either side of the rock, connected to the same path through the hollow. A spring in the rocks above poured water down the cliffs at the back of the hollow, forming a stream that moved through the large rock wall, under an arch. The hollow was filled with the white noise of rushing water, drowning out one’s thoughts with crashing falls on hard rock, echoing around the space like a cymbal in a concert hall.

Once one got used to the sound of the water, the hollow seemed quiet. The birds didn’t seem to nest here, the chapaas and sernuk stayed away, and the Majiri didn’t visit often. Even the wind rarely disturbed this place, sheltered as it was by stone cliffs. The occasional song of a cricket and the gentle rustle of trees by the entrance formed the only melody audible over the falling water.

Over that melody, Robin’s feet tapped on stone. He moved as quietly as he could, unwilling to disturb the peace. Down the path he walked, peering around at the new setting. The path arced through the hollow, with two entrances between rocks, and at the apex of the arc sat a shrine.

It was a beautiful place. A circular stone courtyard, the back edged by a pool of water. Behind the pool was a semicircle of pavilion. In the water, a statue of the neck and head of a dragon towered over Robin, almost a story and a half tall, looking down on him. More water streamed out of its mouth into the pool. A small bowl of incense rested at the base, made tiny by the size of the dragon.

Robin approached with some trepidation. A place of worship, sequestered in stone… The Dragon looked down at him, and in the sun’s glare, he could’ve sworn the eyes moved. A breeze, quiet but persistent, moved through the stone, whistling against the statue.

Kneel.

Robin took a step back from the statue. The voice had been as gentle as a floating leaf, as subtle as a blade of grass, but it hit him like a cold raindrop on the back of his neck. A small chill crept down his back. The water around the hollow seemed to become louder, and the voice was almost hidden in the noise, possibly words, possibly an illusion of the crashing water, the echoes of drops and flows forming the semblance of words.

Kneel, and receive my blessing.

There was no room in Robin’s mind to say this wasn’t real. There was no space in his heart to disbelieve. Fear trickled through him. Whatever this was, it wasn’t something he could disobey. In the middle of the courtyard, he knelt, trying to quiet his breathing, trying to hide his fear. He closed his eyes, and he waited.

Nothing.

He stayed still, down on one knee, head bowed, eyes shut. The sound of water still filled his ears. He waited.

The breeze moved through the hollow again, much stronger this time. A few drops of water from the statue hit the back of Robin’s neck, and he shivered. At his movement, some barrier was broken. A wave of warmth crashed into him, and he swayed. The warmth rushed through his stomach, surged into his limbs, and retracted, pulling itself up, up, up into his head. The sound of water became truly deafening. His mind cleared like it had been wiped blank, and his eyes snapped open, staring at the cobblestone ground and at his own knee as the warmth passed through him, up and up towards the statue’s head. He dimly saw a purple glow across his leg, down his arms, and around the edges of his vision. The same purple glow he’d seen when he emerged…

And it was gone.

The glow faded into his skin, and the water around him quieted, seeming almost silent in his ringing ears compared to the noise a moment ago. The warmth was gone, and the drops against the back of his neck had vanished.

He stayed down, kneeling on cold stone, panting and shaking. He didn’t know why he was shaking anymore. Cold, fear, shock, he couldn’t be sure. His brain grappled with what had happened, trying to listen for the breeze again. But there was none. Palia was still. A cricket sang nearby, the wind moved outside the hollow, and the human stayed on one knee, trembling like a newborn fawn. After his knee began to hurt, he finally looked up.

The statue was still and silent.

Slowly, he raised himself, watching the statue, waiting for something more. But the cricket heard him and jumped away in alarm, and the statue still did nothing.

Absently, Robin patted his pockets. “What did I come out here for?” He mumbled. His mind was racing, his thoughts scattered. He glanced around.

At the base of a nearby tree was a small, red morel. Robin nodded. “Mushrooms. That’s what I came for.”

His mind moved back into its usual rut, undisturbed by the unexplained. The moment had passed and was quickly forgotten, as he collected the fungus and set off to find more.

Chapter Text

The next morning, at dawn, Hassian emerged from his grove, Tau at his side. Down the hill, he saw Robin jogging into sight, looking for him. Instead of calling out, he headed towards the human, his footsteps quiet. When Robin spotted the two, he waved enthusiastically.

“Hi, Hassian!”

“Keep your voice down, you fool.” Hassian narrowed his eyes.

Robin winced. “Sorry,” he whispered guiltily.

This would be an interesting hunt, indeed.

Shaking his head, Hassian led the way to the run. Not far from the grove, a scattering of ruins in complete disarray had become a favored spot for chapaa and sernuks alike. At one end, the rocks narrowed, forming one of two potential escape routes. If Robin had been Hassian’s equal, he would have had Robin stand by the other escape route to catch some of the crowd, but he didn’t want to separate for this hunt. He was hoping to finish off any animals Robin hit. He didn’t want a bunch of injured animals running around because he let a man who was born a couple months ago hunt alone.

Instead, he found them a hiding spot on either side of the funnel, gently nested behind rocks and up the cliffs a little, so they were aiming downwards and not towards each other. Once they were situated, he nodded to Tau, and the plumehound trotted noiselessly around the rocks to move from the other side of the ruins, chasing prey straight to them.

While they waited, he hissed last minute instructions to Robin. “Your range is still poor, so I will likely be shooting before you. Do not try to start when I do. Do not aim until you’re fairly certain you can get a hit. The animals will panic once others start going down, but they will still have to run in our direction. If you do not finish the animal off, it can be hard to keep track of it to put in another arrow. Focus on lethal shots rather than simply letting loose as many as possible. Do not compare your pace to mine or strive to match it. Focus on your own arrows. Remember that this hunt can go on if we do not have enough. Minimize pain, do not maximize prey.”

It was some of the same advice he’d been given when it was his first time on a hunt like this.

It occurred to him that this may have been a mistake. Skill aside, hunting with someone tended to be a bonding experience for them. A hunt was something to be shared with a good friend or with family. He wondered if he was actually close enough to the human for this to be appropriate.

Strangely, he didn’t really mind as much as he should’ve.

That being said, Robin was a bit irritating as a hunting partner. Hidden in the rocks, he still couldn’t stop moving. He was clearly trying to keep his fidgeting to a minimum, but Hassian could still hear him move, and he wondered if the animals would, too, or if their own steps would drown out the sound of his fingers drumming on the stone. He supposed he’d have his answers soon enough.

The silence was long and tense, but eventually the barking started up. Loud, aggressive baying, a hound on the hunt. As soon as Tau was making sounds, there was another, rolling across the ground like a quiet thunder. The stamping of dozens of hooves.

A herd of sernuk came into view, gently trotting away from the sound of the plumehound, who was regulating his pace to avoid pushing them too fast. Almost as soon as he could see them, Hassian drew.

Robin made the mistake of glancing over. Hassian stood straight, his powerful chest pulling back on the bowstring, his stance wide. Muscular arms moved fluidly, releasing an arrow almost as soon as it was in full draw. He reached for another from his back, not looking at the bow, his eyes trained on the oncoming prey.

There was a hint of a smile on his lips.

The sight caught Robin off guard, as did the feeling in his chest. It was the same as in the temple, the feeling of something uncoiling. A small release in his heart that sent warmth through him. It was subtle, but unlike in the temple, there was no headache to distract him. Time slowed, and what must have been only a few seconds felt like minutes as Robin gazed at the hunter, his strength, his elegance, his smile…

Then he forced himself to look at the sernuk. This was his chance to show Hassian what he was capable of. With warmth rising in his cheeks, he drew, firing into the crowd.

He soon saw what Hassian meant. When he was just trying to shoot fish in a barrel instead of aiming for an animal in particular, it was easy for the shot to hit something without bringing it down. So instead, he refocused, aiming at the forerunners and choosing one to hit. He hit it in its narrow chest and it cried out and began to fall, but he quickly lost sight of it as the others pushed forward. Loosing again, he aimed at a head, but wasn’t sure if the shot hit home. He fumbled with his arrows, and the sernuk arrived, driven past them by the oncoming hound. With them below him instead of coming toward him, it was harder to aim, and his arrow meant for one animal instead hit another in the side. Before he could aim again, another arrow from opposite him finished the animal off, so instead he aimed at another. As the herd retreated and Tau slowed to a stop next to them, Hassian continued to shoot, and Robin managed to get two more shots off before they were out of range.

Tau sat between them, panting, his tongue out and his tail wagging against the dirt. Robin did his best not to look at Hassian, worried he’d freeze all over again. Instead, he walked over to Tau to give him lots of scratches. “Goodboygoodboygoodboy, buddy, who’s a good boy?”

Hassian rolled his eyes and put his hand on Tau’s head. “Thank you, Tau.” Then he looked at Robin. “You did… better than I expected.”

“Tau gets a thank you and I don’t?” Robin teased, grinning. The feeling in his heart had passed, and it was hard to tell if his warm cheeks were the aftermath of that or the result of the hunt.

Hassian jerked his head at the remains of the sernuk. “I’ve marked my arrows. Depending on how many I hit, I may give you some of them. The ones you killed are yours.”

“Yes, sir,” Robin responded, moving toward the nearest body.

Hassian’s arrows had killed eight, including two of the ones that Robin had shot but not finished. Robin killed three total.

“Weird way to hunt, making them run like that. Isn’t it easier to just sneak up on them?”

“For a beginner, sure. Especially one working alone. But if I tried to sneak up on and then track eight individual sernuk, it’d take almost an hour. This took minutes.” He began preparing one of his sernuk. “If you are still slow to shoot, you may only kill one or two in a run like that, so it’d be easier to kill them individually. But even beginners, when in a group, could make use of a run if they had hounds.”

Robin pulled an arrow out of one of his sernuk. “Seems like it’d be easier to have a group do this even if you’re skilled enough to do it alone.”

Hassian paused, then kept working. “Typically, yes, you’d hunt in a group. Especially if you have multiple hounds. Tau can only flush the sernuk. If there were two or three, they could herd the prey properly. Multiple hunters make this method much more efficient. That is why my people do this.”

“So this is just how Majiri hunt?”

“I do not know about Majiri in general.” Hassian grunted as he removed an antler. “My people were primarily hunters, so we hunted in relatively large groups. It is hard to stalk individual prey that way.”

Robin stopped working. “Your people?”

“My mother and I did not come from Kilima. We settled here some years ago. The people I grew up with lived on the plains, north of Kilima Mountain.” He didn’t know why he was talking about it. It wasn’t like Robin asked. But it was a bit of a relief, telling him. Like if he could explain why he felt out of place, Robin would understand him.

Robin sat back on his heels, thoughtful. “Why’d you come here, then?”

Hassian shook his head. “That I will not say.”

Robin shrugged. “Sorry, it’s just that I don’t hear you talk about yourself very often.” He pondered the dead sernuk. “You ever try this with the chapaas?”

“I’ve flushed out a few nests to hunt. It is more difficult to do that alone, though.” Hassian stopped for a moment. It’s hard to hunt the chapaas alone. Having multiple people around would help with the nest hunts. And they didn’t need to be particularly skilled hunters, they’d just have to know how to use a bow. There were a few others around who could use one. Kenyatta seemed to enjoy shooting, although she didn’t like being outside too long, and Nai’o could be interested.

He could pull together a larger hunt from the villagers.

He set himself to work on the sernuk with renewed energy. Briefly, he looked up to ask Robin something, but when he spotted the man, he stopped.

Robin was cleaning a sernuk with great focus. He didn’t have his usual smile. Instead, his face was contemplative and focused. Without that smile, his face didn’t seem naturally happy. The corners of his mouth naturally turned down, and his blue-grey eyes seemed to be looking further than they actually were. When he wasn’t deliberately smiling, he looked somber. He was a young man, but there were still the beginnings of wrinkles around his mouth, a product of his wide, energetic smile. With that smile missing, those creases made him seem older than he was. Once Hassian couldn’t see the mischief and teasing, Robin’s face was gentle and sweet.

Somehow, the sight gave Hassian a small ache in his chest, and he felt a small amount of warmth on his face. He turned back to his own work.

Chapter Text

“Absolutely not!”

Hassian narrowed his eyes. “I’m trying to address the problem you and your husband refuse to solve.”

Eshe shook her head, the feather on her hat waving indignantly. “I do not object to you organizing an event, hunter, but I will not have these fliers hanging in our village!”

Hassian looked down at the paper in his hand, an advertisement for a hunt of the chapaas. “What’s wrong with it?”

“You can’t be serious.” Eshe waved her long cigarette holder over the page. “This design is atrocious. It looks like a satire of an official warning! And the lettering, Maji help us…”

Hassian sighed. “If I get a better poster, will you let me hang it?”

“When you get a better poster, you had better bring it to City Hall for approval.” Eshe thumped her walking stick. “Believe it or not, Hassian, I want the chapaas dealt with as well. But I will not have your crass graphic design impacting the image of the town center.”

“You’re the magistrate,” Hassian said. “If you want the problem dealt with, you have the power to deal with it.”

Eshe sighed in disgust. “We’ve been over this. I cannot officially act without mayoral approval. If you want official help, you’ll have to convince my husband.”

Hassian held his tongue. He knew the mayor would never approve of anything that would hurt the chapaas, no matter how much damage they caused. But he had no experience with bureaucracy, and he decided today wasn’t the day to fight it.

Robin came up the path towards his plot and was promptly enthusiastically greeted by Tau jumping up onto him. Hassian approached as Robin fussed over Tau’s ears.

“I need your help.”

“Good to see you, Hassian!” Robin grinned, rubbing Tau’s back.

Hassian hesitated. “Yes, and you as well. I have an idea to deal with the chapaa menace.” He held out his poster to Robin.

Robin accepted it with enthusiasm, but his face quickly turned to surprise and confusion. “What’s this?”

Hassian glanced at the poster. “Isn’t it obvious? It’s an advertisement for a Great Chapaa Hunt. I included all the relevant details.”

“Why is there a bounty above the chapaa’s head?” Robin squinted at the flier.

“That’s not a bounty,” Hassian said, somewhat scornfully. “It’s the prize money.”

Robin bit his lip. “And the big ‘WANTED’ below it?” His voice shook a bit.

“I want people to hunt the chapaas. Is this unclear?”

Robin looked at Hassian for several seconds, and then dissolved into laughter. His laugh rang through the plot, and he had to put his hands on his knees to steady himself, trying not to wrinkle the paper.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, trying to regain control of himself. “I don’t mean to insult your work, but…” He looked back down at the poster and almost lost it again. “It’s, well… it’s bad. It’s hilariously bad.” He covered his mouth against more laughter.

Hassian sighed. “I do not see what is wrong with it, but clearly Eshe agrees with you. She’s forbidden me from posting them until I have made something better. That is where I need your help.”

Robin held up the poster, successfully stifling his laughter. “I mean, I’m no artist. Why me?”

“I couldn’t think of anyone else to ask.”

“I’m touched.” Robin studied the poster. “Have you tried asking your mother?”

Hassian chuckled. Robin looked at him in surprise.

“Oh, you were serious? Absolutely not.”

Robin continued staring at him.

“What?”

“That’s the first time I’ve ever seen you laugh, and it was roasting your mom. Seems appropriate.” Robin was blustering a little. He’d felt the uncoiling again at the sound of the laugh, and he didn’t know what to do about that, so he went back to staring at the poster. “What about Tish?”

“The carpenter? What would she know about design?”

Robin’s lips quirked again, trying not to laugh. “Say that again, but slower.”

“Fine. You can ask her. Or whoever is knowledgeable enough to handle this. I don’t care who.”

“Yes, sir,” Robin said, a little mockingly. “I will ask for help on your behalf.”

Hassian rolled his eyes. “Find me when you’re finished. If I’m not in Kilima, I’ll be in my grove in Bahari Bay.” He produced a key from his pocket and held it out.

Robin’s smile faded when he saw it. Slowly, he accepted the key.

“Is something wrong?”

“No!” It slipped out before Robin had a chance to moderate his tone. He took a breath. “No. Sorry, it’s just…” He held up the key gravely. “This is a lot of trust to put in someone. I won’t let you down.” His eyes were determined, his back pulled straight.

Hassian raised an eyebrow. “If I thought you would, I wouldn’t be here.”

As he walked away, Tau in tow, he wondered at Robin’s reaction. Was it a faux pas for humans? Giving away the key to your home? Robin always left his door unlocked, so Hassian had always had access to his home, and so did every other Majiri in the village. He hadn’t thought much of giving Robin the key. It would make it easier for Robin to find him. And after all, they’d hunted together, and that was ultimately more meaningful than whether Hassian let Robin into the grove.

His instincts told him there was something important in that key, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t figure out what.

Robin, meanwhile, held the key in his hand, examining it. Was this really how much Hassian trusted him? Letting him into his space, his sanctuary? The ultimate hiding place, where Hassian could always trust that he was alone… and now he was willing to no longer be alone in it.

Robin’s door was open now, but a gentle memory nudged into his head. A memory of days when his door was open, when he wasn’t allowed to keep it closed, and certainly not to lock it, no matter how badly he wanted to keep the world out… And of other days, another time, when he was finally allowed to close that door, and he kept it locked no matter what. Hassian kept that door locked. He kept to himself, valued his privacy. He spent his time alone. But now…

Now Robin had a key.

He pocketed it. It’s my key, he promised himself. No one else will ever touch it, unless absolutely necessary. Not his mother, not the Majiri in the village, no one.

It also occurred to him that he was being very dramatic, that Hassian probably didn’t take this as seriously as he did. But he didn’t care.

Chapter Text

When Robin opened the door built into the rock, it was with great hesitation. The key fit, obviously, but he still wondered if Hassian actually meant to give it to him.

Hassian wasn’t in the grove yet, and he considered turning back and running away. Being here with Hassian was one thing. Coming without him would be snooping. But come to think of it, maybe if he had a look around…

He took a moment first to admire the space. The grove was just that, a grove. A small copse of trees, hidden away in the rock, accessible only through a small entryway, which Hassian had built a door into. A small waterfall ran on one side into a pool, which drained somewhere unseen. A tent, cobbled together by months or maybe years of reinforcements, new hides and wooden supports added on like a ship of Theseus, nestled against the back stone wall. Inside was a table and a couple chairs, clearly used as a workbench of sorts to make arrows and work on a bow and armor. Next to the tent sat a solid, well built hut for Tau, one of the few structures in the place that was made with genuine care. Robin wasn’t all that surprised by the decor. Or rather, the lack of it. A campfire in the center of the grove, with a couple log benches and a mat with a bedroll. To one side, near the waterfall, Hassian had set up a little archery range with a couple of targets. Altogether, the place had a feeling of permanent temporariness. Like when a book intended to hold up a table while it got fixed becomes a fixture of the table. It was a camp turned into a home by time and effort, all of which could be taken up and moved.

Somehow, that felt suitable for the hunter.

Cautiously, Robin approached the mat next to the fire. On it, he saw a scrap of paper in spikey, jagged writing, detailing a recipe. Careful not to touch or move the paper, he quickly copied the recipe into his own notebook and promised to cook it for Hassian sometime. Wandering on, he glanced around the tent, careful not to look too hard. He didn’t want to find a diary, or worse, one of the romance novels Auni had mentioned. Robin didn’t particularly like romance, it had a nasty habit of creeping into the stories he enjoyed and derailing otherwise fantastic plots with nonsensical behavior done in the name of “love” and vivid descriptions of people’s chests for some reason. He’d read a couple of love stories disguised as high fantasy adventures, and he usually felt betrayed when a boy and a girl met and there were metaphorical fireworks. That being said, he had definitely had a good laugh when Auni told him Hassian read romance. He almost wished he did see a romance book in the tent, so he’d have an excuse to make fun of Hassian without admitting Auni had told him.

His final stop was the waterfall. Initially, he’d just wandered over because he liked the sound of running water in general, but he caught sight of a small, hand-bound notebook left sitting on the rock. Next to it was a crude rectangular pencil, like a carpenter’s pencil, clearly sharpened with a knife. Bracing himself, he briefly nudged the book open with a foot to peek, hoping he wouldn’t see anything graphic.

Instead, he caught sight of a poem.

Kneeling down on the rock, he gently opened the book again. The place where he opened it had a couple of pages torn out, but the page he could see was a poem. It hadn’t been finished yet, but the first stanza and a half were written.

The bitter eyes of moons that watch the trees
The clever eyes of chapaas watch the moons
Inside the brush, the hunter watches (the next word was scratched out)
When gentle purple smoke from magic blooms

The swirl of stars will tell their ancient tales
The light of magic wood will hold their spells
The creatures of

From there, the poem ended. Robin counted the syllables, and a memory of a classroom floated into his mind’s eye. “This absolute nerd is writing in iambic pentameter.”

Naturally, he ignored the irony that he was also a nerd for recognizing iambic pentameter.

He flipped through a few more poems, mouthing the words. The phrases were lovely, each one a different meter, or a different form. He didn’t recognize any of the forms, he’d mostly forgotten they existed even before he’d completely forgotten his own existence. Each one was written with a gently looping script, a style that was almost childlike compared to the recipe he’d found earlier. And each one was signed by Hassian.

He heard the door open and the jingle of Tau’s collar. Not wanting to startle the hunter, he called out, “Hey Hassian! I found your poetry!”

Tau dashed into the grove, but Hassian froze in the doorway, then hurriedly shut the door behind him. He should’ve known better than to give the damn human a key. He’d expected Robin to come when he was home. What in Maji’s name was he poking around for?

“What poetry? You must be mistaken. I do not write poetry.” His face felt warm as he stalked into the grove. Sure enough, Robin was crouched next to the waterfall, looking over his poetry book, grinning. His heart sank. It was hard enough getting the human to take him seriously, but he’d never hear the end of this.

Robin shrugged, glancing back down at the book. “My bad. I guess the other guy in the village named Hassian came over and left this here.”

Hassian marched over to the rock and snatched the book away. Robin sat back on his heels, unimpressed and smirking.

“Fine. Yes, it’s mine! I suppose you’re going to use it to humiliate me.”

“The poetry? Nah, but I am obligated to lightly mock you for being insecure.” Robin’s eyes sparkled. “Why you gotta act like I found your diary? I only brought it up because I was wondering what happened to the torn ones. What, did you decide you hated those poems?”

Hassian flipped through to the torn pages. “They were stolen from me. Someone tore them out and ran off with them.”

“Who?”

“I have it on good authority that it was a chapaa.”

Robin snorted. “Goddamn, do those things have it out for you as much as you have it out for them?”

Hassian shook his head, clutching the poetry book. He hadn’t expected to get this worked up, certainly not over something this silly. “Nevertheless, I would appreciate it if you checked their nests to see if you can find them. It would be better if it was you than… someone else.”

Robin chuckled and got up, dusting off his hands. “Got it. I’ll keep an eye out for stolen sonnets. Oh, by the way, Tish finished your poster.” He handed Hassian a piece of paper.

Hassian looked at it and mostly understood why Eshe had objected to his own. While it had the same information, the layout of the new flier was much better spaced, the colors had a proper palette instead of just trying to be bold, and the lettering was done with more care. He still didn’t see why a somewhat worse look was enough to call his flier terrible, but at least he had a better one now. “I suppose this will do.”

He started to walk away, but Robin cleared his throat, raising his eyebrows expectantly.

Hassian raised his head. “Thank you, Robin. For helping me.”

Robin grinned. “You’re welcome, Hassian.”

“I’ve made a plan of attack. I’ve been eliminating chapaa nests around Bahari Bay, aiming for medium size and scaling upwards. At this point, there are three large nests remaining closer to Kilima. If Tau flushes them out, a large enough hunting group could take out a significant number of the remaining chapaas in the nests, hopefully putting a dent in their overall population. If I am able to concentrate them again, I could potentially hold another hunt some time in the future.” Hassian paused, holding his book and his poster. “I’ll… I have to get back to planning. Please leave.” He moved back towards the fire.

Robin hopped down from the rock, giving Tau a couple of rubs. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Hassian. Bye, buddy!”

“You could stop by again sometime, if you’d like.” The words sort of slipped out, but they were true.

Robin looked back at him for a moment, then smiled. “Might take you up on that. ‘Night.”

Chapter Text

Hassian sat by the fire, holding his notebook to his chest. He hadn’t realized how quickly his anger would flare up. No one ever read his poems. His mother had, once, and she’d laughed at them, telling him he didn’t need to be so dramatic. That life could be explained in much simpler terms. Seeing Robin smirk, knowing he had given him another way to tease him…

Robin was here.

Robin was here.

For some reason, he’d given the key without really thinking about the consequence. Robin had come to his grove. Robin had been in his grove, sitting on the same rock he wrote poetry on, glancing through Hassian’s deepest secret.

Robin was here.

He’d always seen the grove as a convenience. It gave him good sleep under the stars and a place close to prey so he could hunt early in the morning without disturbing his mother. It held the few things he needed, and it gave him a space to write. While the privacy was good, he’d underestimated how dearly he valued it.

But now someone else has been here. Someone else has been in his grove.

He understood now why Robin was so surprised at the key. He’d let Robin into his home. Of all people, Robin…

Oh Maji. Robin was here.

Suddenly there was another feeling at play. Along with the anxiety, along with the feeling of betrayal, along with the feeling that his home had been opened, there was another. A small ache, deep down in his chest, like something waking up. He felt his breathing quicken.

Robin. Of all people, Robin.

And Robin was there the next day, joining Hassian in the grass, opening up his sketchbook. Inside were a few pieces of loose paper, dirty, crinkled, and torn on one edge. The missing poems, covered in chapaa fur and dirt. Robin handed them over with a smile.

“How many people did you show them to?” Hassian braced himself as he took them.

“Why the hell would I show anyone?” Robin seemed genuinely a little confused.

“You seemed to find them amusing.”

Robin shook his head. “I thought your reaction was amusing. You acted like a teenage girl whose dad found the notes she wrote to her crush. But I’m not going to wave around the stuff you didn’t even want me to see.”

“I see.” He looked down at the poems in his hand. “Tell me… what did you think of them? The poems themselves?” His heart seemed to pause for a moment.

Robin looked up into the sky, a gentle smile on his face. “Honestly? I really liked them.”

Hassian blinked. “...Truly?” He let out a breath and relaxed. He hadn’t noticed how tense he was.

Neither had Robin. “Yeah. It’s been a while since I saw those old poetry forms. I learned about them in school, but I kind of threw that knowledge away. I didn’t think anyone used them anymore.” He leaned backwards on his elbows. “Using a specific format for a kind of self expression felt… stifling. So I just wrote my poems freeform. I didn’t think I’d ever be interested in ones that weren’t. But those ones… they were really cool. I am curious about one of them, though. The one about eyes? ‘Eyes, oh eyes, why do you follow me…’ I can think of a few possible meanings, from a general feeling of anxiety to the belief in a divine being to an old memory haunting you, but I’m curious what inspired it.” He shrugged. “You don’t have to tell me, though. I know those poems weren’t meant to be read, and poetry like that can be really… personal.”

Hassian stared at his poems as Robin talked. He could see the one he was talking about on the top of the stack.

Eyes, oh eyes, why do you follow me
As I walk through the silent wood?
Familiar eyes, though I can’t place you,
I’d go to you if I could.

Eyes, oh eyes, from another place, another time
You’ve got me in your spell
I do not believe I’ve seen your ilk
On this side of the Veil

Oh eyes, oh eyes, why do you haunt me?
When I eat and when I sleep.
Why, oh eyes, do I feel your secrets?
Secrets I know I must keep.

It was an older poem, when he was still getting used to writing them. He wasn’t sure he could put their inspiration into words, and if he could, he certainly wasn’t going to share those words with Robin. It was too personal.

But something else about how Robin talked caught his attention. “You write poetry?”

Robin shrugged and sat up. “I used to. I was going through some stuff, and I didn’t have the words to describe how I felt. So I messed around with imagery in hopes I’d find it. Wrote some pretty weird stuff in the meantime. But like I said, I didn’t like using more specific forms. I’d sometimes pick a meter and roll with it, or usually if I was upset and just needed to get it down I’d stick to disorientingly short phrases. That usually got the message across better.”

“I’d… enjoy reading it sometime.”

Robin smiled sadly. “I didn’t exactly bring it with me when I emerged. I kind of…” His face went blank. His hand, which had reached up to scratch his jaw, slowly lowered back to his lap, and he stared towards the horizon.

“Oh god. Everything I ever wrote is gone.”

His voice was barely above a whisper. He sounded hollow, monotone, and he was sitting completely still. Hassian hadn’t known him for long, but the only times he’d seen him still were when he was deeply upset. It was like the churning gears that kept him ticking ground to a halt, and his agile body lost all power. He sat like a doll, staring towards the lake. Tau whined and curled up against Robin’s back, but he still didn’t react.

Hassian could see tears starting to well up, but Robin still didn’t move, or even blink. He reached out, initially just getting ready to catch the human if he fainted again, but then he changed his mind and put a hand on Robin’s shoulder. He didn’t know when they started sitting within an arm’s length.

“You’ll have to write more, then.”

He knew he sounded rude, but he felt the need to interrupt whatever was happening in Robin’s head. Whatever spiral he was going down.

Robin closed his eyes, and a couple tears ran down his cheeks. Then he took a deep breath and abruptly started moving again, reaching up to scrub at his face. He gave Hassian a grin. “Sorry, just… been a weird week.”

“Don’t apologize. If you… if you ever do write a poem, I wouldn’t mind reading it.”

“It’s only fair. I read some of your stuff. It just… kind of sucks that I don’t have anything in return.”

“Did you bring food again?”

“Yeah. Found some weirdly fancy chapaa meat recipe in a river in the Bay.” Robin produced three plates of meat, presenting one to Tau.

“Then that will have to suffice.”

Chapter Text

Auni and Robin sat out on the patio. Robin glared at his cards. To a certain extent, he was hamming up his annoyance to amuse Auni, but he was also having a hell of a time trying to understand the rules to this game. Fishing a card out of his hand, he played it on the current pile.

Auni immediately played in response, blocking his move.

“Shit.”

“Language.” Hassian appeared out of nowhere. Robin yelped, then rolled his eyes.

“C’mon. At his age, Auni’s heard worse.”

Auni grinned helpfully. “Yeah, Robin’s said way worse around me!”

Robin stifled a grin. “Thanks for throwing me under the bus, kid.” He ignored Hassian’s stern glare and played another card.

“You can’t play that one! We’ve already got the other one in play.”

“Ah, crap.”

Hassian sighed. “Language, Robin. I do not care if Auni’s heard worse. He doesn’t need to hear it from you.” He looked over the played cards. “You’re terrible at this.”

“Listennnn, I was one of the best rummy players I knew, I could rip at Uno, and I had a mean streak at cribbage, but this baloney makes as much sense as a choir boy at a track meet.” Robin fished through his cards.

“The rules are quite simple.”

“Easy for you to say. I almost feel like I’m playing Magic the Gathering instead of modified Old Maid.” Robin sighed dramatically and picked up one of the stacks to add to his hand.

Auni began a new stack, beaming. Robin immediately countered, then realized his mistake when Auni slapped down his last card and held up his hands, finishing the game.

“Oh, for fuuu…” Robin was suddenly incredibly aware of Hassian’s glare. He sighed. “Good game, kiddo, but I swear I’ll figure out this nonsense one day. My pride is on the line.”

“I wasn’t aware you had any pride,” Hassian commented dryly.

“Eh, maybe a little too much pride for a guy who’s beat by a kid.”

Robin stayed to watch Hassian and Auni play, his concentration escalating to confusion before he gave up and went to play fetch with Tau.

Hassian came to join him after the game. “Don’t play cards with Auni if you’re going to have such a foul mouth.”

Robin laughed. “Aw, c’mon. He’s… what, twelve? He’s the perfect age to learn to cuss.”

“He doesn’t need to learn to cuss.”

“Are you kidding me? Cussing is the least of what human kids were learning at his age. How’s he gonna grow up if he doesn’t misbehave?”

“He’ll grow up to be respectful and well-mannered.”

That one nearly sent Robin into hysterics. “Well-mannered my ass! Manners are what you teach a little kid, and then they don’t get it until they’re an adult. The years in between are for getting into trouble and learning to get out of it again. Learning to get away with cussing will be a lot better for him than learning manners!”

“What will cussing teach him, exactly?”

Robin fumbled with his words a little, thinking fast. “That different language is appropriate for different contexts, and that there’s better ways to express anger than punching things.”

Hassian sighed. “You’re teaching him a lot more than cussing, aren’t you?”

“I will neither confirm nor deny.”

“You’re a terrible influence.”

“He needs a couple bad influences.” Robin gently swatted Hassian. “Mark my words. One day he’s gonna end up knee-deep in shit, and he’s not gonna go to you or his dad to dig him out. He’s gonna run for the adult he knows won’t judge him.”

Chapter Text

Robin awoke to thunder. It was the middle of the night, and rain pelted the roof of his house. He briefly worried about leaks, but that was something to be faced in the morning.

It was a nasty storm. Wind shoved at his walls, lightning cracked across the sky. He’d always loved nighttime storms. Snug in a bed, protected by walls…

Oh god. Hassian.

He sat bolt upright. Hassian slept in a damn tent. He was right next to a pond. What if the water rose? What if lightning took down a tree? What if the tent got destroyed, and the hunter was stuck in his grove, trying to shelter himself and Tau? Robin pulled himself out of bed, his mind racing. If there was an emergency, if one of them was hurt, Hodari was the closest, and he would still be so far away…

He threw on a jacket and opened the door, and the cold rain and wind smacked into his face, bringing him to his senses. He slammed the door again. Hassian had been living in that grove for quite a while. He could handle a storm by now. Worst case scenario, Hodari probably wouldn’t mind him waiting out the rain in his workshop. It might spook Najuma a little, but she could get over it. Hassian and Tau can take care of themselves.

But he couldn’t pull away from that door.

What could he do, anyways? Walk across the entire bay? Knock on Hassian’s door, shivering and wet, asking if the tent had gotten knocked over? He was likely to get hurt out there. It’d probably end with Hassian taking care of him and not the other way around. Not to mention he’d get a proper lecture for wandering around alone in a storm. And what was his game plan? Invite Hassian over and walk back through the bay with him? Pull him out of his nice, safe grove into the elements?

Ask him to stay the night on Robin’s plot?

Heat erupted into Robin’s face and he fled from the door, dashing back into bed. Was that what this was about? Did he just want to be with the hunter that night?

Oh god, what if he said yes?

A hundred thoughts burst into his head. Thoughts of holding and being held under the stars, of sketching the hunter by the moonlight, of strong hands and soft lips and fingers tangled in hair. And underneath those were other, less innocent thoughts that made him tingle. Even though no one could see him, and certainly no one could see what he was imagining, he still buried his face into the pillow, groaning in frustration and embarrassment. The feeling deep in his heart uncoiled and bloomed, filling his body with warmth. His heart began to speed up, and he felt agitated, like he needed to move, but he still didn’t want to get out of bed, so he gripped the pillow with both hands.

He lay there, stewing in newly recognized feelings, simultaneously dreading and anticipating seeing Hassian the next day, until he finally drifted off to a restless sleep.

Chapter Text

That morning, as Hassian walked towards Kilima, he saw a figure near his usual spot, moving around the windmill. Tau whined, but Hassian gave him a warning look to keep him from running off. He braced himself for a message from his mother, or perhaps Reth coming for a delivery, but as he got closer, he recognized the man.

Robin was pacing around the windmill, agitated, staring at the ground in front of him as he wound around, around, around the base of the structure. His steps were quick, his hands anxiously fussing over each other, his shirt, his hair, anything but to be still.

Hassian rolled his eyes. What in Palia got him so worked up?

As they drew closer, Robin was finally in range for Tau to go bounding over to him. The dog startled him and he swore loudly, then relaxed and greeted Tau properly with rubs on his neck and the usual “Buddybuddybuddy!” He looked up and saw Hassian, and Hassian could’ve sworn he seemed relieved, but he hid it with a smile.

“There you are! I was a bit worried.”

“What for?”

“The storm last night. I wondered if… if something happened.”

Hassian stared at Robin as if he had two heads. “It was a storm. I can handle that.”

“Yeah, I know. I mean, I figured, I just…” Robin hesitated. “I just… didn’t want you hurt.”

“Do you think I’m incapable? Perhaps you should think about your own wellbeing, if a storm is such a terror to you.”

Robin squeezed his eyes shut. “Y’know what? Nevermind.” Opening them, he smiled again, his nerves vanishing. “Hey, how ‘bout I stop by later? I’m bullying Reth into teaching me to make crab pot pie.”

Hassian’s expression remained. “If you were planning to come to the grove anyways, why did you bother coming to meet me here and ask?”

“S’later, Hassian. See you soon, buddy!” Robin jogged off towards town.

True to his word, he came by the grove that evening with a fresh pot pie. He cut three slices, one for each of them, and they settled around the campfire. Hassian sat on his mat, Tau lay down against his leg, and Robin sat on the log with his legs crossed.

Hassian looked up at the sky. “Do you know any constellations? Perhaps ones from your time?”

Robin looked up as well. He was silent for a while.

“Don’t strain yourself. I don’t want you falling off.”

Robin smirked. “How considerate.” He stared up at the sky again, then winced and reached up to massage his head.

“Do you refuse to listen to advice in general, or do you only choose to ignore mine?”

“Hey!”

Hassian sighed. “Forget I asked about the constellations.”

“You could tell me about some Majiri ones, if you know any. Or some from your people.”

Hassian looked at the stars for a moment. He couldn’t exactly point out a constellation from over here. So instead he stood and walked around the fire, joining Robin on the log.

He didn’t hear Robin’s breath catch in his throat. They weren’t touching, there was maybe half a foot of distance between them, but it was closer than usual, and the sudden move to sit by him caught Robin off guard. He took a deep breath and focused on following Hassian’s finger as he pointed up towards the heavens.

“Up there. There’s a line of stars diagonally, just above that cliff. Surprisingly straight. At the top, another few stars seem to hang down, like a whip. Some say there’s multiple lines of stars, but the charts I saw only showed one.”

Robin thought he saw the stars Hassian was describing, but it was hard to tell.

“That’s the Shadvaraak’s Whip. It’s a tale of warning for the Majiri.”

Robin looked down at Hassian’s face. He could see the expression the hunter often had when looking at the sky. A sober but thoughtful face, like looking at a painting after learning the artist’s past. Hassian looked like he knew the stars well, like he saw them made, and yet they still surprised him.

“Once, there was a woman who thought she could live forever. She had Maji’s favor, and it had saved her life many times before. As one who had, in her mind, conquered death, it seemed only right that life should belong to her as well. So she sought to conquer the living. Not the Majiri, the thought of being a conqueror who ruled over a kingdom seemed too mild. No, she wanted to conquer all living things. And that began with the animals.

“Now, this woman was an accomplished riffroc rider. She had tamed her riffrocs before, with her own whip that she’d made herself. In her mind, she would tame life the same way. So she set to work, crafting a whip worthy of her quest. The result was beautiful, so beautiful she almost didn’t want to use it. A long, shining whip with a delightfully loud CRACK! every time she used it. She was tempted to keep it forever, to wear it as an accessory on her hip, just to show everyone how beautiful it was. But she made it for a purpose. She made it to tame a shadvaraak.”

Hassian grew more animated as the story progressed. He didn’t move as much as his mother, with her exaggerated gestures and boisterous voice, but he couldn’t help but move. Robin, for his part, listened with rapt attention. He had his head cocked to one side, his eyes shining. He could already sense where the story was probably going, and he was excited to see it play out.

“She set out from her home to find a suitable shadvaraak. It couldn’t be too small, or too young, or too old. She needed her debut to be impressive, powerful, an example to all other beasts in the area. One day, she found one to her liking. A massive, hulking beast, who had killed many a traveler along the road. It was scarred and aggressive, a perfect example for her.

“So she raised her whip.”

He paused, for effect. Robin held his breath.

“The first crack hit her squarely in the back. She had not sufficiently practiced with the new whip, and she was not accustomed to its length. Her cry of pain alerted the beast, who came towards her, crouched low to the ground. She recognized that it was stalking her, and she cracked the whip again, aiming for the face, as a punishment.

“The end of the whip hit the creature in the eye, and it shrieked and dashed forward, aiming right for her. Desperate, she cracked the whip one more time, but the beast was ready, and it caught the leather between its teeth, ripping the beautiful whip from her hands, and then aiming for the hands themselves. In her last cries, she cursed Maji’s name, demanding he save her, the woman who couldn’t die, but she received no such aid.

“The woman’s body was taken by the beast for food, her spirit passing on. She had been destroyed so completely that not even her name is remembered. As for the whip? Some say it died as well. That she’d crafted a part of herself into it, and when she was gone, it was too, but it was so beautiful that it rose to the sky to outlive its creator. Others say Maji himself placed it in the stars, a warning to the hunters to come.

“A warning that life is not ours to conquer.”

As the grove fell to silence, Robin stared up at the sky. He felt the warmth in his chest, along with a fluttering in his heart, and he felt the heat of Hassian’s arm near his. The crackle of the fire, Tau’s sleepy gnawing, the glimmering stars… Robin wondered if life could get better than this. He had the urge to take the hunter’s hand, but he held back.

Chapter Text

Robin didn’t show up on the grass. Initially, Hassian figured Robin just slept in, but then Tau began nudging him incessantly, trying to gently pull him towards Robin’s home.

As Hassian stepped onto the plot, it was eerily quiet. The machines weren’t moving, there was more furniture than ever, and he heard no sign of Robin. He thought perhaps the man wasn’t home, but then Tau whined and trotted up to the front door, nosing it open.

When he followed the hound, he found Robin.

The room to the right of the main room had been turned into a little living room. A couch, a couple armchairs, and a little coffee table were gathered near a little fireplace. The fireplace sat empty and cold, and Robin slumped in the center of the couch. His eyes were open, but he wasn’t moving. Even when Tau prodded his hands, he didn’t respond. He sat with his eyes on the floor, and Hassian got the impression that he was a puppet whose strings had been cut.

He stood near the door, watching the man carefully, trying to see if he was breathing, part of him fearing the worst. But after several seconds, he saw Robin blink.

It seemed like he’d been sitting there for quite some time. Hassian considered his options. Robin might want company, even if he didn’t say anything, and leaving him alone might make this episode worse. He might also have not eaten, or he may need help breaking out of this. On the other hand, maybe being around someone would make him worse.

There was also the twist in his stomach at the thought of staying. He should be in the field now, thinking. Robin was supposed to be there. That was the routine, and he hadn’t planned on a deviation that day. That was how the day was supposed to work. In another hour or so, he would head towards the inn to play cards with Auni. That was how it always went. How much would staying cost him in scheduled time? Would he skip the card game? Delay dinner? Get home late? How long was this going to last? If he decided to stay, how long would he end up sitting in Robin’s house, so far away from the routine he’d built?

But Robin wasn’t moving. The house was cold and cheerless, and Tau had already jumped up onto the couch to curl up at Robin’s side. The hound looked up at Hassian and howled softly, as if chiding him.

If Tau thought it best to stay, then he would stay. At any rate, he owed Robin that much.

So he sighed and browsed the bookshelf, picking out one he saw about Majiri folk tales. He settled into an armchair to read, but he soon ran into another problem. The cool house felt nice on a warm day, but it was also silent. The usual noises from outside were muffled, leaving an occasional creak and Tau’s gentle snuffles as the only sounds. It made him feel restless, and a little caged. But he took a deep breath and did his best to focus on the book.

Some minutes later, Robin finally spoke.

“I’m sorry.”

His voice seemed a little raspy, and he was speaking in a whisper. Hassian looked up.

“For what?”

“I don’t know.” Robin still didn’t move.

“Have you eaten?” He remembered Robin mentioning how his friends would struggle to eat.

“Not today.”

“It’s past noon.” Hassian sighed and stood, heading to the kitchen he’d seen in the back room.

Thankfully, Robin apparently kept plenty of ingredients on hand. It wasn’t hard to put together some steak with the meat he had with him and what he found in the kitchen. He did find Robin’s organization frustrating, though. Or rather, the lack of it. It took much longer than it should’ve to locate the spices.

When he had two plates and one small bowl of steak ready, he came back to Robin, whose hand was buried in Tau’s fur, seeking comfort in its softness. Tau had moved from curled up next to him to having his head on the human’s lap. Robin still moved slowly, but he moved.

Hassian put the plate next to him, a little ways away from Tau’s nose. “Eat.” He put the small bowl on the floor for Tau and settled into the armchair to eat his own portion.

It still took a while for Robin to reach for the plate. Once he moved, Tau finally hopped down from the couch to snap up steak from the bowl. Hassian was surprised to realize he felt a little relieved when Robin started eating. He didn’t know what had come over the other man, but he didn’t like how slow he was, like a machine trying to force rust out of its joints by grating through it. Whatever it was, it wasn’t good.

The two ate in silence, and Robin’s movements got easier. After a while, his knee started bouncing as his fidgets slowly returned. He wasn’t as quick as usual, but he seemed better.

“Thanks,” he said, indicating the food.

“You’ve done as much for me quite a few times. What happened?”

“Nothing.” Robin avoided Hassian’s eyes. “It happens, sometimes. I just… stop.”

“If it’s a condition, then perhaps you should see Chayne today.”

Robin snorted. “It’s not the kind of condition you cure. Just the kind you manage. I’m okay, I just...” He took a deep breath. “Thanks. For staying with me.”

Hassian didn’t play cards that afternoon, but he didn’t regret his choice.

Chapter Text

Reth was cleaning the bar when Robin came in and plopped on a bar stool. Hodari hadn’t gotten in for lunch yet, so it was just the two of them.

“Heya, sweet tooth,” Reth greeted him, trying to get something sticky off the bar.

“Sup, soup boy,” Robin responded, grinning. “How goes the work?”

“It’s certainly going. Trying out something new.”

“Adding more lettuce?”

“Nah, just adding less water.” Reth grinned. “I mean, I’ve also been toying with some other ingredients. I’ve got something new for breakfast!” He pulled out a plate and plopped it onto the bar.

Robin looked at it a little doubtfully. “Scrambled eggs?”

“Better! I’m calling it ‘egg surprise’! I’ll let you guess what the surprise is.”

Robin took a bite and made a face. “The surprise is that you didn’t season it.”

“Yeah, the surprise is that it’s just eggs.” Reth laughed. “You don’t like it?”

“I don’t understand you. I know you can cook better than this.”

“How did you know?” Reth acted shocked.

Robin rolled his eyes “Because you’ve taught me some really cool recipes, and because I know cooking matters to you a lot. Why do you stick to this easy stuff?”

Reth shrugged. “Hey, I know it’s easy, but lots of good things can be easy! Walks on the beach, cheese sandwiches…” He winked. “Me.”

Robin smirked. “Cute. I suppose your friendship was pretty easy to get, and I’d consider it a good thing.”

“D’awww, sweet tooth! You should probably raise your standards.”

“I’m serious, Reth.” Robin’s smirk faded. “I appreciate your friendship.”

Reth laughed. “Yeah, yeah.”

Robin sighed. He and Reth reached this point in quite a few conversations, where Robin stopped wanting to joke around and tried to offer genuine words, only for Reth to shut down a little and brush him off. It was frustrating. He didn’t blame Reth for being uncomfortable – it was easier to mess around and tease each other – but it made Robin’s attempts at sincerity awkward and annoying.

Robin hadn’t yet cracked Reth’s shell. He knew that. He hadn’t quite pieced together what made the chef clam up, but he had hope that he might. He suspected he’d seen this behavior before, and it didn’t mean good things.

“Enough about that.” Reth tucked the cleaning rag into his apron and leaned onto the counter. “What’s been going on with you lately? Somethin’ on your mind?”

Robin looked down. “Might have a crush on someone. Not sure.”

Reth burst out laughing. “Let me guess: beast boy!”

“Not so loud- beast boy?”

“Yeah. Hassian.”

Robin stared. “Does he know you call him that?”

“Oh, I call him that to his face. He answers to it, too, sarcastically.”

Robin shook his head. “I suppose you gotta call him something.”

“So what’s the plan? Gonna ask him out?”

“Nope. I’m gonna sit on this until I figure out if it’s an actual crush or just my brain being weird. Hard to tell sometimes.”

“Sweet tooth, I’m pretty sure it’s an actual crush. What about last night? Chayne mentions Hassian in passing, and you immediately get all mumbly.” Reth pulled the rag back out and snapped it at Robin. “Yeah, that’s what a crush is, my guy. So what’s the plan?”

Robin looked him in the eye, smirking playfully. “I’ll tell you what the plan is if you accept my compliment of your friendship.”

“Oof. Hard bargain. Alright, keep your secrets.” Reth winked and changed gears. “I’m a little sad it’s not me you’re into. What, too good looking?”

“Sorry, soup boy, not my type.” Robin pushed the plate of egg surprise back over the counter. “And season your damn food, you savage.”

On his way towards town, Hassian changed course and headed into Maji’s Hollow to visit the Dragon’s shrine. Admittedly, he wasn’t there just to pay respects, although he did pray there on occasion. Instead, he was looking for the man who maintained the shrine each morning.

Chayne knelt in front of the shrine, lighting the incense in the bowls, humming. Hassian approached and knelt behind him, and he and Tau bowed heads to the Dragon for a moment. Tau, as flippant as he could be at times, still understood the importance of this place. Once they’d paid their respects, they stepped away from the shrine, allowing the sage to finish his work. While Chayne didn’t mind making conversation during his duties, Hassian always thought it impolite to have casual talks on the stone floor of the shrine.

Once the incense was gently smoking, Chayne rose and bowed once to the statue of Maji, then turned with a smile and joined Hassian on the grass. “What brings you?”

“The human.”

“Robin?” The sage nodded thoughtfully. “I understand the presence of a stranger can be stressful. I’ve noticed you two spending quite a bit of time together. Tell me, what do you make of him?”

“He’s a nuisance, and he lacks respect.” Hassian hesitated. “But he is… less of an idiot than I initially thought. I had some… unkind words for him when we met, and I’m surprised he still wanted to be around me after that.”

“I’m sure you weren’t all that cruel to him.”

“I called him a pest and compared him to a chapaa.”

Chayne put a hand over his mouth, trying to conceal his surprised laughter. “Ah.”

“He still came back the next day, and I don’t know why.”

“Well,” Chayne cleared his throat. “Sometimes kindness is not what we want from a friend. Perhaps he saw something else in you. And you? What do you see in him?”

“I thought he was simply annoying, but the more time I spend with him, the more I understand that he has his own set of rules regarding his behavior, as strange as those rules seem.”

“Such as?”

“Time spent with family must be spent with only family. Gifts that are unwanted or thrown out belong to the giver. A common way of showing friendship is food. And others, perhaps a little harder to explain.”

“Interesting.” The sage stroked his beard. “He struck me as rather unruly, but it does make more sense for him to have rules he alone truly knows. I’ll admit, it is difficult for me to understand the man. He seems… guarded.”

Hassian raised an eyebrow. “He seems quite trusting to me.”

Chayne smiled. “He is friendly, of course, and very diplomatic. But he does not let himself show too much.” Chayne looked up at the statue. “Then again, he may only be like that around me. He seems to have a… special discomfort for me.”

Hassian looked up in surprise. “Why?”

“He is not a spiritual person, and he seemed uncomfortable when I brought it up. He probably doesn’t enjoy those discussions, and perhaps he sees me as an extension of them.” Chayne reached down to pet Tau’s head thoughtfully. “He has no ill will. I don’t even think he dislikes me. You mentioned he offers food as friendship? I have noticed that as well. He has been quite considerate, bringing me vegetarian dishes from time to time. But he still acts wary around me.” He chuckled. “The only person I’ve seen him let that guard down around is Ashura.”

“In what way?”

“His smile is not a façade, exactly. More of an exaggeration, the only emotion he will show to a stranger at the expense of anything more meaningful. But with Ashura, he has expressed some fears and discomforts, and even sought advice. Allowing himself to be anything but gracious and amused is his form of vulnerability.”

Hassian thought back to the other day. Robin talking about his poetry. Even before he was in tears, he definitely seemed more… genuine. Talking about the forms he’d learned about, assuring Hassian that he wouldn’t show anyone. He thought even further back, when Robin had somberly insisted that Tau have the antlers he’d tried to give Eshe. He had given Robin a key because he’d begun to trust him, but it seemed like Robin had been showing his own trust for a while.

“It’s still odd to me that he doesn’t trust you, of all people. Especially after you came to help him when he fainted.”

Chayne chuckled. “He was not ungrateful, if that is your concern. He later came by with seeds for my garden. But trust is not something he owes me. I hope, in time, that his heart will open. But tell me, was there something in particular that brought you here?”

“Yesterday, he did not come at his usual time. Instead he was waiting by Kilima for me, a few hours before he’s usually there. He expressed concern about the storm, more than I think is warranted. I thought… I thought he was just underestimating me, but the more I think about it, the more I wonder if it was significant.”

“Was he only concerned about the storm?”

“He thought perhaps I’d been hurt. I told him I can handle a storm, but it seemed to make him more frustrated.”

“Hmm. Well, it’s hard to say what his intentions were without a chance to see his body language for myself, but I am fairly certain it wasn’t just concern. Or at least, it wasn't a rational, reasonable concern.”

“What do you mean?”

Chayne smiled in amusement. “If he actually thought you’d been hurt, he would not have been waiting for you. He would have gone to find you.”

Hassian blinked and looked down at Tau. Tau gave a little whine.

“It is more likely he was worried in spite of himself. That he knew you could handle it, but worried nonetheless. Seeing you wasn’t about seeing if you were hurt, it was about reassuring himself that you weren’t. What significance that has, I shall leave you to consider. You know him better than I.”

“Do you think…” Hassian took a breath. “Do you think there’s… more to it? That he…” He couldn’t get the words out.

Thankfully, Chayne had known Hassian for quite a while. “It is possible he has romantic intentions, yes, but that is for him to declare.” He looked at the hunter curiously. “If he did declare them, would you have an answer?”

Hassian’s face got warm.

“You do not have to have an answer at this moment. But perhaps when you do, you should make it clear to him, whether he declares his intentions or not. It is always good to know where you stand with someone.”

Chapter Text

Kenyatta sat peacefully on a bench by the stables, the night breeze gently lifting the ends of her hair. Nai’o had gone home for the night, and it was just her and the cool breeze in the dark, until footsteps approached.

She had her mom’s footsteps memorized. It was hard not to, she insisted on heels and always had her stick. This was someone else. So she didn’t bother reacting until they spoke.

“Hey, Kenyatta?”

She opened her eyes. It was Robin, standing by the sign, looking around nervously.

“Hey, you okay?”

“Yeah, I just…” Robin sighed. “Can I ask you something?”

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“Can you keep a secret?”

Kenyatta stared. “Really? Have you met me?”

Robin shook his head. “Sorry, I know, I just…”

Kenyatta sat up a little. “Spit it out. What’s up with you?”

Robin looked at her, bracing himself. “How much do you know about romance? I mean, I know you and Nai’o, but…”

Kenyatta’s eyes widened. “OMD, wait, wait,” she stood and grabbed Robin by the shoulders and forced him to sit on the bench. Then she peeked around the corner of the stable, making sure they were alone, before she sat next to him with her eyes alight. “SPILL.”

Robin hesitated. Kenyatta pushed.

“Who is it?”

Robin squeezed his eyes shut. “Hassian.”

“Hassian?!” Kenyatta let out a whisper-yell. “Oh my dragon, of all the people! Bestie, you could literally have your pick around here. Why you gotta go for the one guy that doesn’t want you around?”

“He wants me around a little,” Robin said with a somewhat bashful smile.

“That guy can barely stand his own mother, why would he want you around? No offense.”

Robin produced a key.

Kenyatta’s eyes widened. “Is that…?”

“Key to his grove. He keeps it locked, but he gave me a key.” Robin couldn’t help the small blush coming up on his cheeks. Kenyatta reached out to see the key, but Robin jerked it back and pocketed it. “So, yeah, he wants to be around me. But we’re not, y’know…”

“Damn,” Kenyatta said. “I didn’t think he was capable of making friends. But now what? You got a crush?” She gave a teasing smile.

Robin looked down at his hands. “Maybe…”

Kenyatta grinned in excitement. “Oh, I am so down. Alright, what do you need from me? Want me to test him? Do some poking around?”

“Do you know if he has an ex around here? Someone he dated?”

Kenyatta snorted. “That dude certainly hasn’t dated anyone around here. And anyways, it’d be weird to talk to an ex.”

“Yeah, but an ex would give me a better idea of what I’m in for.” Robin’s eyes stayed down. “I don’t know if these feelings will last,” he said softly. “I’ve never felt like this before. And I don’t want to start something if I’m just going to quit in a few weeks. He deserves better than that.”

Kenyatta rolled her eyes hard. “Please. He’d be lucky to get you for that long. Besides, things happen. Sometimes feelings fade, y’know? You’re not getting married to him, you can just back out if you need to.”

“But I don’t want to hurt him.”

“Then you might as well throw in the towel. This kind of thing usually hurts in one way or another. If you’re that scared, go on and quit.”

“Exactly.” Robin looked up at Kenyatta. “I could just keep my mouth shut. Just let it go, and he doesn’t need to get hurt.”

Kenyatta stared at him in disbelief. “I was kidding. Robin, these feelings don’t always fade on their own. You’ll just end up torturing yourself over nothing. Or, you could take the chance, let him know how you feel, and who knows? Maybe you’ll get something nice out of it.” She patted Robin on the shoulder. “At the very least, you can say you tried.”

Robin was quiet for a while.

“How ‘bout this? I’ll do some poking, see if I can figure out how he feels about you. I can’t guarantee much, the dude’s hard to read, but I can at least get a guess about whether he’d turn you down.”

“No.” Robin took a deep breath. “If I want to know how he feels, I’ll just ask him. Honestly, him saying no would probably solve my problem. It’d be easier to let him go that way. I’m more scared he’d say yes. Like, where the hell would I go from there?”

“Well, then you’d be seeing each other. Not quite dating, but seeing.”

“Yeah but I have no idea what that would be like. Or what to do if it goes south.”

“Robin.” Kenyatta was getting increasingly exasperated. “You’re trying to burn a bridge before you’ve even had a chance to cross it. It’s just dating! You’re not proposing, you’re not promising anything, you’re just seeing each other. Just try it, see how it goes.”

Robin pulled his legs up on the bench and hugged his knees. “Hearts aren’t something to take lightly. I don’t want to break his.”

“Oh my Dragon. You are being SO dramatic.” Kenyatta rolled her eyes. “If it ends up hurting, so what? That stuff heals. He’ll be fine, he’s a grown-up.” She shoved Robin playfully. “Just give it a shot. Trust me. Even if it’s short-lived, it can still be a lot of fun. And it’ll build your confidence for the next time you plan to seduce a guy.”

“Please don’t phrase it like that.”

“Oh c’mon. Just grab him some chocolates from the shop and see how he takes it.”

Robin raised his head. “Is that how it works?”

“Yeah. You either grab some chocolates, or you can give him a heartdrop lily. Those things are tricky to find, though, so the chocolates are probably the better bet.”

Robin was quiet for a moment, then shook his head. “I’ll get him a lily. Taking a shortcut is a bad way to start.”

Kenyatta looked at him with an eyebrow raised. “You’re going to use that lily to procrastinate asking, aren’t you?”

Robin grinned. “Probably.”

Chapter Text

The next day or so, Robin sat with Hassian as usual. But it felt… a bit different. His heart felt jumpy, and he had a little trouble focusing on his sketchbook, to the point where he gave up on his memories and let himself just poorly sketch Tau instead. He thought the whole time about how Hassian would react, whether he would accept a lily from Robin. Would he laugh? Would he tell him off?

Whatever form the rejection took, it wouldn’t be anything he couldn’t handle. The thought of it being accepted was more terrifying. But all the same, that image lingered in his head. The thought of him and Hassian, out under the stars, alone in the grove…

Set with newfound determination, he went to find the Witch of the North.

That was his own private nickname for her. Tamala was just a potion maker, more of an alchemist or a pharmacist than a witch. Witch of the North just sounded suitably dramatic for her.

The problem was that he didn’t know where to find the lily, and there were only a few people he could ask. Hassian was out, he didn’t want to make things weird before he had a chance to clarify what was going on. Ashura was a good option, but he was worried the man would ask too many questions. He saw Ashura as a father figure, and he knew Ashura wanted to look out for him, but he wanted to keep his intentions as quiet as possible until he’d figured them out. That only really left Tamala, and given that she didn’t seem to talk to anyone and could definitely keep a secret, he hoped she’d have an answer. She would also ask questions, but he felt more comfortable rebuffing her.

She was on her way to the stables when he caught up to her. “Hey, Tamala.”

“Oh, little lamb, I’ve missed you!”

He’d spoken to Tamala a bit since they met. Her flirtation usually left him red-faced and stammering, wondering if she would actually want the answer to her suggestive questions. After a while, though, he got used to it. Innuendo and sly looks were part of how she was, he decided. She didn’t mean any harm, he was just scared of hot women. In any case, he highly doubted she would only put on this kind of a show for him. She probably flirted with anyone who walked by.

Including Hassian. Robin shoved that thought down. He didn’t want to judge her for her attitude. There was nothing wrong with being suggestive or casually flirting, although he did consider trying to get her to stop doing it to him. That was probably a boundary he could set, but he was ultimately too awkward to ask her to tone it down.

“I was wondering if you knew where a heartdrop lily would show up?”

Tamala pouted. “You didn’t just want to come see little old me?”

“I mean, I swing by here sometimes to see you, but right now I’m going lily hunting.”

A smile slowly slid across her face. “I don’t suppose this flower is for someone in particular? After all, a heartdrop lily is something you only give when you have more… romantic inclinations.”

“Do you know where I can find them?” Robin ignored her question. He could lie, but he didn’t as a rule, and he didn’t want to make an exception for something this small. Besides, he didn’t owe her any answers at all.

Tamala leaned forward, reaching out to put a finger on Robin’s chest. “Come now, lamb, you can tell me. After all, I have plenty of experience in… these matters.” Her finger gently slid upwards and Robin stepped back.

“Can you just tell me where to find it?” He was getting frustrated. “I don’t want to go telling people what’s going on before I’ve even had a chance to talk to him about it.”

Tamala stood straight, her face slyly triumphant. “So it’s a him, then? One of the boys in town caught your eye?”

Robin blinked and cussed under his breath.

“Or perhaps not someone in town,” Tamala continued, her eyes boring into him. “I have seen you running around with that handsome hunter on occasion.”

“Where. Can I find. A heartdrop?” Robin said through gritted teeth.

Tamala flipped her hair away from her face and studied him, still smiling. “Oh, you find them around the Bay from time to time. They don’t appear often, which is why they’re so prized. Keep an eye on the tops of the cliffs. Personally, I sometimes find them on the bluffs just by the northern beach.” She looked over Robin critically. “I suppose I should be disappointed that the lily is not for me, but perhaps another time. It will be fun seeing how this little romance plays out.” She booped Robin’s nose playfully. “And if it all goes terrible, you will always have me. I know a couple things that could comfort you.”

“No thanks,” Robin mumbled, flushing. He shoved down his discomfort and jogged off.

Chapter Text

And so his hunt began. He took the witch’s advice and started with the northern beach of the bay, working his way west. He scanned along the clifftops, climbing up and around, keeping an eye out for the subtle glow that a lot of flowers had around here. The exercise felt good. He didn’t think too far ahead, he just focused on finding the lily. Just like any other rare flower, just like the dari clove or the sometimes elusive briar daisy. He actually did manage to pick some briar daisies while he was out. As he moved across the area, he turned south, checking the statue filled ruins and the cliffs above the stables. The sun set, but the two moons rose, shedding their own ethereal light, never letting the world be truly dark.

He supposed there was something poetic in that, but he was trying not to think. Because if he did, he’d have to think about what would happen once he found the lily.

He’d have to think about the work that went into a relationship. About his own fears that he was biting off more than he could chew. About boundaries and love languages, about intimacy, both emotional, and maybe one day physical. About being vulnerable, and loving, and still being his own person outside the relationship…

Kenyatta was right. He was being dramatic. But somehow, this occasion seemed to call for it.

He didn’t want something short term to “build his confidence”. He didn’t just want a relationship that was fodder for his future ones. But he didn’t want one from the romance books, either. He didn’t want to be nothing without the other person, or to say if he’d still love him if he was a worm. He didn’t want to pine at a window, or think about him every waking moment, or give him everything. He didn’t want this one man to become his whole world, for this guy to become the “best thing that ever happened to me”.

He didn’t know what he wanted. Romance was a can of worms he’d told himself not to bother opening. Not until he knew he was ready. But as he stood on a cliff by the ruins, covered in sweat, panting from the climb, he wondered if he would ever be ready.

He looked up at the moons. There was something poetic about it. A world constantly bathed in light, from the sun, the moons… The fish glowed, the flowers glowed, sometimes the trees glowed, like there was so much light that everyone had to have some of it. Like the light was a burden that needed to be shared. The world wasn’t allowed to be truly dark, wasn’t allowed to be fully night. Usually, moonlight was soothing. But at that moment, it felt stifling. The dark was supposed to be a release, a chance to relax, a time when you can see nothing and therefore don’t need to see anything. But here… here he could always see.

He sat down on the edge of the cliff, letting his feet hang down. Maybe it was for the best. This feeling in his chest… it felt like he couldn’t breathe right. It felt too similar to the panic he’d had as a teen. The way his heart sped up and his chest felt tight, it wasn’t actually a crush. Was it? Was a crush supposed to feel like fear?

But those eyes… he felt like he could see them, in the needles of the pine trees. The deep, gentle green, like a scratchy bush. The bared shoulder, marked with an unknown symbol, the arms thick with muscle. The expression on his face as he watched the sky, by day or by night, like he could see the beauty of each cloud. His poetry, formal and thoughtful, his stories of the night sky.

He stared into the trees. He wanted that. Deep down, he wanted to stay near that. And he didn’t think it was just a friendship he wanted anymore.

He was still staring when he heard a sound not far off. It was a strange ringing, like a shimmer made audible, a thousand high-pitched, quiet tones growing and fading, dancing through the air. Glancing around, he saw a small glow on another part of the bluff, and as he moved closer, he saw a single beautiful red flower, blooming straight upright, its petals extended outward as if to show off as much to the moons as possible. As if the sky alone were its audience, not the man scooting over to crouch by it. It bore its burden of light with grace and dignity, showing the moons no hesitation, refusing to bow to the night.

And as he looked at it, he saw also the gold decorations in Hassian’s hair, falling over one green eye. He saw the bow, drawn to its full potential, with the grace and hidden strength of a ballerina. He saw the poetry by the waterfall, the looping scrawl of a pencil.

And maybe it was some small, latent belief in fate that arose when the flower bloomed right by him. Maybe it was the glow of the moons, or the glow of the petals. Maybe it was the memory of the hunter’s chuckle, or the smile on the sernuk run. But he took the flower, and he tucked it away behind his ear, somewhat hidden in his hair, hoping the petals would still be beautiful when he was ready to give it.

Chapter Text

But he couldn’t give it the next day. Or the day after. As soon as he sat down in the grass, his heart jumped up into his throat.

Instead he mutely handed Hassian and Tau their food. Hassian didn’t seem to notice anything amiss, but Tau whined and curled up against Robin’s legs as Robin tried desperately to focus on his sketchbook.

Among the shapes and lines he’d made to try and get something going, like a Rorschach test of pencil, he could make out a strange swirl. So he added some details. He flared out one end into a flattened bell, adding a much smaller bell to the other end. Some circles and cylinders along the center, a few levers on one loop. It wasn’t a good drawing of a French horn, and it took a few days to fully puzzle it out, but it was something. It was enough to remind him of the feeling of the mouthpiece against his lips, cold before it was warmed by his breath, the muscle strain of higher notes, the hot air against his hand in the bell.

He was familiar with the horn. He wondered if he could still play, if given the chance.

“May I ask something?” Hassian broke the silence.

“Hit me.”

Hassian started. “Excuse me?”

“Hit me.”

Hassian looked down at his hand. “In the shoulder, or…?”

Robin looked up, equally confused. Then his face cleared. “Oh! No, sorry, figure of speech. What’s the question?”

“Do you have something against Chayne?”

Robin froze. Then he took a deep breath. When he started speaking, it was clear he was choosing his words with care.

“As a person? No. As a religious figure? I mean, not especially. He seems like a good one, I suppose.” He seemed doubtful.

“Chayne is much more than just a religious figure. He is a spiritual guide and caregiver for the village.” Hassian’s voice was reproachful. “I urge you to show him more respect.”

“Good for him. I do respect him, Hassian. I respect him as a man. In my mind, that’s what he is. A good man, obviously, but a man.”

Hassian bristled. “He is more than just a man.”

“To you.” Robin closed his sketchbook and stood. “Look, I don’t want to disrespect your religion, but it’s your religion, not mine. From my perspective, he seems like a very kind man. But he’s a man. He’s no more important to me than anyone else.”

He started off, but Hassian called after him. “If you have any respect for our ways, you will not speak of our sages in that manner!”

Robin headed home and put the heartdrop lily in a vase. Some other day. Hopefully.

Chapter Text

That day, as Hassian approached the inn, Auni came running out the front to meet him. “Hassian! Hurry up, we’ve been waiting for you!”

Hassian frowned. “We?”

“Robin said he was going to show me human magic!”

“What?!”

“Okay, he said it’s not magic, but something close to it! C’mon!”

Auni dragged Hassian to the pier behind the inn, under the patio where they usually played. Robin was standing on the pier, next to a mysterious jug, holding a cup. He grinned. “Hi, Hassian!”

“Hello.” Hassian peered at the jug. “What’s this about magic?”

“Oh. It’s not magic, it’s just carbonation.” Robin pointed at the jug. “I’m so glad y’all have fizzy drinks. Hey Auni, you know how they make this stuff?”

Auni shook his head, his eyes bright.

“Air. Kind of. Carbon dioxide, a special kind of air that’s a byproduct of fermentation. Basically, in the process of making the drink, little particles of air end up in the liquid. But the liquid is kept under pressure, so the air can’t expand, and instead the particles scatter through the liquid, kind of like how sugar dissolves in water.” Robin gently kicked the jug. “Problem is, gas doesn’t like staying dissolved. It’s unstable. So it’ll find any excuse to escape. Those “excuses” are called nucleation sites. Fancy word, I don’t expect you to remember it. But the particles of gas gather around these sites and expand, forming a bubble that travels to the surface and escapes. To keep the gas dissolved, the drink has to be kept under pressure. Sealed. But if it’s unsealed, any nucleation site will gather some gas. Ever notice that when you shake the drink, it gets bigger from all the bubbles?”

Auni nodded. “Where’s the magic?”

“I’m getting there, bud.” Robin held up the cup. “This is sand. Little particles, a ton of ‘em. They make perfect nucleation sites for the gas trapped in the soda. So what’ll happen if I dump it in?”

Auni shrugged. “It’ll bubble?”

Robin grinned mischievously. “We’ll see.” He held out the cup over the jug. “Fire in the hole!”

He flipped the cup over, dumping the sand into the mouth of the jug. The reaction was immediate. Fizzing liquid poured out of the top, forcing itself higher and higher into the air, until it made a fuzzy, frothy fountain a few feet high. The falling fizz poured over the jug and splashed all over the pier, and Hassian suddenly understood why this couldn’t be done inside. The fountain lasted for several seconds until it splashed itself out.

“WHOA!” Auni shouted. He pumped one fist in the air. “That was awesome! Do it again!”

“Sorry, bud, the soda’s all fizzed out. I’d have to get more, and I don’t think Ashura wants me dumping sand into his supply. Probably tastes nasty.” Robin tipped the jug, and more of the soda frothed out, pouring into the river.

“Ooo! Let me try it!”

“Oh, no. Your mom would kill me if she knew I let you drink sand.” Robin used the cup to splash river water onto the jug, rinsing the last of the sticky liquid. “What’d you think?”

“That was so cool!”

“Where did you learn about that?” Hassian asked. He couldn’t deny he was a bit impressed.

“Pretty much every human knows about the soda. Usually we’d use a special kind of candy for it, but really, that candy was just porous enough to make a lot of nucleation sites. Sand doesn’t work quite as well, but it works fine.” Robin shrugged. “It’s an old human trick to get kids interested in science. Show them really cool stuff from time to time and tell them it’s related to the stuff they’re studying.” He pointed the cup at Auni. “Get some reading done and I’ll show you more. Deal?”

“Deal!” Auni grinned and ran off.

Hassian watched him go. “I suppose we’re not playing cards.”

“I guess not. Sorry, Hassian. I just wanted him to learn.” Robin looked down at the jug, smiling. “Although, honestly, I don’t think anything I learned in school actually taught me this kind of stuff. It was more of a distraction and motivator than an actual lesson. Just something to catch a kid’s attention. But, hey, if it’ll get him to think more about the world, I’ll take it.”

Hassian tilted his head, looking at the jug thoughtfully. “It seems to have worked, at any rate. I’m glad you’re befriending him. I do not know if he feels very welcome here. I caught him trying to run away last summer.”

“I heard.” Robin focused on cleaning the jug, even though it was already pretty clean. It may have been Hassian’s imagination, but he seemed a little more pink than usual. “He’s got big dreams, that kid. I was always taught the way out was school. Don’t want to stay in your hometown? Study hard, get an education, grab a fancy job and use it to escape. I… don’t think he has that opportunity, but I really wish he did.” He held the jug over the river, shaking out the last drops. “At the very least, I want him to have his adventure. I want him to learn that the world is weird and wonderful, and much bigger than he thought. Who knows? Maybe he’ll get to be a traveling researcher or something. Maybe this’ll give him what he needs to go out and see the world.”

“You don’t think he’ll ever want to stay?”

“Unless he gets a taste of what it takes to be away from home, he’ll never be happy here. Maybe once he knows what it’s actually like to adventure, he’ll want to settle. But his dreams need to die on their own. Not be preemptively killed by someone here.” Robin sat back on his heels. “I wish his dad would see that.”

Hassian got the impression this was a bit more personal than just Auni.

Robin shrugged. “Anyway, when they do die, someone’s gotta be here for him. And I doubt he’ll go crying to Badruu when all Badruu did was doubt him. So that might be my job.” He glanced up. “Or yours.”

Hassian looked at him thoughtfully. “Perhaps.”

Just then, they both saw Auni come running back, grinning. “I forgot about the cards!”

Reth poked his head out onto the patio. Hassian and Auni had settled into their game. Hassian sat against the banister, legs folded under him, his eyes watching the cards. Auni scratched restlessly at his pant leg, making a disgusted face at his hand. After a moment, he pulled one out to play it.

Reth shook out his apron, stepped out onto the patio, and leaned against the wall. Hassian glanced up at him and reached down to draw a card.

“Hey, beast boy, you seen Robin anywhere?”

Hassian’s hand jerked, and the deck spilled across the wooden floor. Hassian froze with his hand out and closed his eyes, taking a breath to regain his composure, then opened them and set about gathering the scattered cards. “You missed him. He was here perhaps an hour ago. Why?”

Reth grinned. “No reason.” He squinted at Hassian’s face. The hunter remained impassive, his momentary lapse gone without a trace, but Reth could see his hand on his cards, and he could’ve sworn Hassian had a tighter grip than usual.

Chapter Text

It was early in the morning, and even Delaila had gone home. Ashura cleaned the bar, humming softly. It was always quiet around now. Occasionally, if he needed advice, Robin would visit, but this was a time when no one came to the inn for no reason.

But if you speak of the devil, he will appear. Robin came in, looking anxious. He didn’t look anxious often. He was anxious, but he didn’t usually look it. He slid onto one of the bar stools, glancing around to make sure they were alone.

“What’s the trouble?” Ashura put down the rag.

“I’m scared.”

“Of what?” He leaned against the counter, concerned.

Robin took a deep breath and pulled out the heartdrop, plopping it onto the counter. He worried that it would be showing more age since it was picked a few days ago, but it still seemed as brightly colored and soft as before, if a little crumpled.

Ashura’s eyebrows shot up. “Who’s that for?”

“Hassian, I think,” Robin replied, studying the flower.

Ashura smiled. “Ah. I know he was rude to you at the start, but he’s a good choice.”

“I know.” Robin rested his arms on the counter, staring at the heartdrop. His voice was barely more than a whisper. “But I don’t know if I can do this. And I don’t know if I should.”

Ashura pulled up the stool that he kept behind the bar and sat to keep weight off his knee. He still towered over Robin. “Is there a reason you shouldn’t?”

Robin was quiet for a moment. “I don’t know what kind of partner I’m going to be. I’ve never… felt this before, let alone acted on it. What if I’m too shallow, or too dramatic? What if I chicken out and leave him hanging? What if I mess with his head?”

“You’re not worried he might do the same?”

Robin blinked in surprise, then shook his head. “Heartbreak I can handle. I think. What I can’t handle is the thought of hurting him.” He sighed. “It’s frustrating. Every time I’m alone and think about asking him, all I can think of is everything that can go wrong. What if I’m too much of a pushover and he goes too far? What if I get too scared to tell him how I feel, and then he’s stuck wondering? What if I’m too awkward, or stupid, or maybe I’m just a shitty person once I’m in a relationship?” He put his head down on the bar. “But then, any time I’m around him, all I can think about is how I feel about him. And I want to try, but… what if it’s all doomed from the start?”

It was quiet for a while. Then Robin felt Ashura’s hand on his arm. “It’s okay to be scared. Love is a scary thing. And you’re right, it might be doomed. But there’s no way to tell that in advance. I don’t think any of us truly feel ready for love. I know I didn’t when Sabine asked for mine.” He ruffled Robin’s hair. “I’m glad you’re taking this seriously. I suspect Hassian would, too. But overthinking this is setting you back. It’s hard to listen to your heart when your head’s this noisy. And your heart should be the one speaking for this. You’re trying to plan for the worst, and it’s okay to prepare a little, but when you act like the worst is guaranteed, you miss out on what could be better. You can handle the worst if it happens. You are quite capable of handling the worst.”

Robin lifted his head, but kept his eyes down. Ashura put a large hand on his shoulder.

“You don’t have to give him that lily.”

Robin looked up.

“You have a lot going on right now. You’re still figuring things out. Just because you have feelings for him doesn’t mean you absolutely have to start something. If you need to focus on your life instead, none of us would blame you.” Ashura smiled down at him. “And whatever happens, if you ask him, if you want to give this a try, remember that you’re not alone. I’m always here, if you need help. There’s plenty of people you could get advice from. Hodari may not have someone anymore, but he did once, and he remembers. And Delaila and Badruu can help you, too. We’re all here for you, if you need us. Relationships are tricky sometimes, but you have plenty of people to ask for guidance.”

Robin felt some of the pressure in his heart ease. He’d gotten so stuck in his head, so scared of the possibilities, that in some way, he’d forgotten that this was something plenty of people did. And if they could do it, so could he. He didn’t have to figure it all out alone. He took a deep breath.

“I’ll probably take you up on that.”

Chapter Text

Kenyatta marched into the inn. The only other person around was Hodari, eating lunch, and Reth manning the bar. She plopped on a bar stool and got to the point.

“Robin and Hassian. What’re your thoughts?”

Reth leaned on the counter, grinning. “I’d ask what your point is, but I think I know. I think it’s a stupid idea. They’re complete opposites.”

“Opposites attract.”

“Yeah, but Hassian? Really? Of all the people to fall for.”

“I know, right? But I think there’s something there.”

Reth snorted. “Of course there is. Robin gets extra fidgety if you bring up Hassian near him, and Hassian gets all tense if he hears Robin’s name. More than usual, anyway.”

“So you think Hassian’s got something for Robin?” Kenyatta leaned forward. “I can’t get a read on the guy.”

“Usually, neither can I. He gets pissed if you bring up chapaas, he looks at the inn like everything in it is a personal disappointment, and I can’t for the life of me figure out why he plays cards with Auni. But he definitely acts differently if you mention Robin.” Reth rubbed his rag against the bar, trying to look busy. “Come to think of it, Robin and Auni kind of have the same energy.”

“Yeah, they got the same vibe.” Kenyatta raised an eyebrow.

Nai’o wandered in, his eyes on Reth. “What’s goin’ on?”

Kenyatta turned around and leaned back against the counter. “Robin and Hassian. Care to chime in?”

Nai’o blinked. “Hassian?”

Kenyatta smirked. “Exactly. And yet…”

“And yet Robin keeps squirming whenever I bring Hassian up.” Reth grinned. “I’m currently cooking up a scheme to get Hassian to ask him out. I’m thinking of calling in Tish, she seems to talk to him just fine.”

Nai’o came over to the bar, taking care to stand extra close to Kenyatta. “I dunno, I don’t think Hassian would be good for him. Robin’s sweet, outgoing, helpful, and Hassian’s, uh…”

“A prick?” Reth offered.

“I wouldn’t put it like that,” Nai’o said, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I would,” Kenyatta added.

Reth shook his head. “Either way, Robin’s got feelings, and I’d be a pretty bad friend if I didn’t try to help.”

“Friend, huh?” Nai’o folded his arms, trying to keep his tone light. “Didn’t think you had friends.”

Reth grinned. “I know, hard to believe, isn’t it?”

Nai’o’s brow furrowed. “Pretty hard, yeah.”

“Nai’o,” Kenyatta cut in, “be nice.”

“It’s just, I’m surprised you want to help. The way you talk to him, I figured you’d want to ask him out yourself.”

“Thought about it,” Reth replied, leaning on the bar. “Brought it up at some point, and he shot me down. I’m not broody enough for him, I guess.” He said the last part with a mocking tone, but he was still smiling. “I got over it. Not everyone is susceptible to my charms.” He winked at Kenyatta.

Nai’o resisted the temptation to put an arm around her. “Not everyone should be.”

Kenyatta rolled her eyes. “Back to the topic at hand, from what Robin’s told me, I’m pretty sure he’s gonna beat Hassian at-”

“I don’t think Robin would appreciate y’all gossipin’ about him.” Hodari cut in from his table, looking at the younger adults with disapproval. The miner rarely spoke up, so they’d forgotten he was still sitting in earshot. “‘Specially you, Kenyatta. Whatever Robin told you, I doubt he wanted you spreadin’ it to your friends.”

Kenyatta sighed and rolled her eyes.

“Nai’o, I thought you were better’n that. You don’t exactly keep your thing with Kenyatta secret, but you still don’t want folks talkin’. So why talk about other folks like that?”

Nai’o flushed.

“What about me?” Reth winked. “Don’t I get a lecture?”

“Honestly, I’ve come to expect this behavior from you.” Hodari shook his head. “Still don’t make it okay, but you won’t listen to Ashura, so you won’t listen to me.”

“I listen to Ashura!”

“Sure ya do.” Hodari stood up and picked up his plate and mug, dropping them off on the bar. “Either way, I know you don’t have many friends, but here’s a tip: friends don’t want friends yappin’ ‘bout their love life. So if you actually want Robin to stay a friend, I recommend keepin’ your mouth shut.” He headed out, and Kenyatta and Nai’o followed not long after. Reth initially snorted at Hodari’s suggestion, but once the miner was gone, he couldn’t help but feel a bit guilty.

Chapter Text

Hassian sat on the stone by the waterfall, staring at the sonnet he’d been working on for over a week now, ever since the night before Robin’s first visit to the grove. That first night, he’d gotten such a good start, but he’d been unable to write more than a couple lines since, and he’d scratched out and tried to rewrite lines multiple times. It wasn’t really normal for him to be this stumped, especially on a sonnet. Sonnets were a pretty simple pattern, and easy to use, and he’d written plenty before. But for some reason, the lines about a flow grove emerging weren’t coming.

It didn’t help that his mind kept going back to Chayne’s words. “Perhaps when you do have an answer, you should make it clear to him, whether he declares his intentions or not.” If he wanted to just stay friends with Robin, he should probably say as much, even if Robin didn’t try to ask for something more.

Before their argument, he’d been close to having an answer. He couldn’t deny the little fluttering he felt when Robin came to join him on the grass. His only concerns were that Robin would worsen his previous heartbreak. But Robin was a very different person than Tamala had been. More honest, more genuine, more trusting. He was a good man, and Tamala was, at best, a questionable woman.

It seemed like a good thing, at the time. Hassian fell into Tamala’s way of courting. He would bring her gifts and go on errands, aiming to earn her affection. She, in turn, offered sweet, sensual words and the occasional night together. Or day, or quick moment behind a tree, or whatever sort of rendezvous she was willing to offer. With each errand, with each tryst, with each kiss, Hassian fell more and more in love with her.

The problem arose when he tried to push the relationship forward. He’d tried to give her a pin.

And she’d laughed.

He never forgot that laugh, but to her credit, the smile faded when she saw his face. She genuinely hadn’t realized he was being serious with the pin. She’d tried to offer some disdainful comfort, but all he remembered was standing at her door, his face hot, trying to figure out what went wrong.

Looking back, he knew exactly what happened. Tamala hadn’t seen their relationship the same way he had. To him, each gift and gesture was a progression. He’d told himself he was earning his way into her heart, that this was how he would prove himself worthy of her. But to her, the two of them were engaging in a simple exchange of affection, a game of loyalty and reward. Nothing more, nothing changing. While she enjoyed his devotion to her, she didn’t want to show the same. She was just a flirt, and he was just her errand boy.

At first, when she told him not to come back, he’d hated himself for trying to give that pin. For interrupting the balance they’d struck and ending what little love he got from her. But after a while, he was grateful. If she hadn’t realized his feelings, he probably would’ve just stuck around forever, constantly feeling like he was on the verge of something more. He had no idea what a relationship with Robin would be like, but he knew it would be very, very different from that.

But Robin’s words also stuck in his head. “From my perspective, he seems like a very kind man. But he’s a man.”

“Chayne is more than just a man,” he growled to himself, his grip tightening on his pencil. How could he accept a courtship from a man who spoke like that about one of the most respected people in the village? How could he trust someone who didn’t trust a sage?

Before that point, he’d underestimated just how different Robin was from him. Sure, he’d known Robin was a human and not Majiri, but that argument drove the point home. Robin was a human, with a completely different history. He had little respect for Majiri ways and played by his own rules instead. Clearly he wanted to live among Majiri, but he wouldn’t accept their way of living. He just wanted to live in his house in the mountains, running errands and cooking people food. He hadn’t even started the Virtues, the rituals to be officially accepted as part of the village.

Hassian looked up at the sky. The Lovers constellation shone brightly, as if in warning. They were from different worlds, different times.

But then he glanced down at his poetry book.

He’d done his best to reattach the torn pages. Old forms, old traditions. Robin didn’t use them, but he enjoyed reading them. Or so he’d said, and Hassian was inclined to believe him.

He still saw Robin’s hands, holding the pages. How he’d closed them into his own sketchbook, dirtying his own drawings so he could do his best to unwrinkle and restore the poems. The food Chayne said he brought, considerate enough to stick to the sage’s diet, and the seeds for his garden.

And he remembered Robin’s smile. His mischievous eye, looking up at Hassian slyly. His knee tapping, his sketches of a forgotten past, his solemnity in accepting a key.

He knew better. He shouldn’t accept this. He should tell Robin that he only wanted to be friends, just in case Robin was planning on giving him a courtship gift. He should push down this feeling in his gut, nip this issue in the bud.

Did Robin even actually see him that way? Or was that just his own wishful thinking?

He closed his notebook and put his head in his hands. “I’m never going to finish this damn sonnet.”

Chapter Text

This time, Robin wasn’t waiting near Kilima. He was waiting by the pond Hassian usually visited in the early morning. He was sitting on the edge of the wooden platform, his feet dangling over the water, gently kicking at the air. The sun was rising, but the world was still in a sort of twilight. Tau dashed over to greet him, and the human rubbed his neck enthusiastically.

“You’re up early.” Hassian came to sit next to Robin.

“Didn’t sleep.” Robin scratched Tau’s ears, avoiding Hassian’s eye.

“What brings you out here?”

“I wanted to talk a little further from town.” Robin took a breath. “I’m sorry. For what I said about Chayne. It came out all kinds of wrong, and I lost my temper a bit. What I meant to say was that I didn’t dislike him as a person, I’m just nervous around religious figures.” He kept his eyes on Tau. “I should’ve just stuck with that, but I pushed further, and I ended up being disrespectful. I’m sorry.”

“I know you are not religious, but that’s no reason to be nervous around him.” Hassian kept his eyes on Robin’s face. “He’s not going to force you to believe.”

Robin watched the water of the pond. “I know. And he’s been nice to me since I emerged. I just… I don’t have a good history with religion, and a lot of the figures I trusted turned out to be…” He trailed off, keeping his eyes on the ripples. “I didn’t even really remember human religions when I met him. I just didn’t trust him, and I had no idea why. Humans didn’t do religion the way you guys seem to. It was much more political. Not just some kind sage looking after a village. There were those, too, but they weren’t always… what they seemed.” He hung his head. “I just plain don’t know what to make of Chayne. I’m not trying to dismiss his role, it’s just… dismissing his role and treating him like a man has been the best way to avoid feeling like he’s judging me.”

“He’s not judging you. He doesn’t judge anyone.” Hassian thought of Reth, and of Kenli. “Even if perhaps he should.”

Robin chuckled. “It’s gonna take a while for that to sink in for me.” He glanced up at Hassian but quickly looked away. His cheeks were pink.

Hassian didn’t look away. “You do not have to share our religion, but if you want to belong here, you will have to follow our ways.”

Robin could feel the lily, burning a hole in his pocket. But he could also feel his own somewhat bitter retort on his tongue. Maybe I don’t want to belong here.

He’d told Hassian a bit about his experience with priests, but he hadn’t told the full truth. He’d always chafed with tradition and its expectations. It always felt like a tool used against him, and the fact that it used to work made it sting all the more. It had taken time to be his own person, to play by his own rules. But now he was given a new set…

“This is going to be harder than I thought,” he said out loud.

Hassian sighed. “Obeying principles you did not learn? Yes, it can be. But I would think respecting a sage would be easy.” He rolled his head, stretching his neck. “If that is all, I must be off. I have better things to do than sit with a human.”

“Wait.”

Hassian paused.

Robin sighed and stood. The point of no return. “Is now a bad time?”

Hassian raised an eyebrow. “For conversation? Yes. Whatever it is, it can wait.”

“What about for this?” Robin pulled out the lily, his heart skipping a beat.

The world seemed to pause, just for a moment. The woods went silent, the trees stood still, like the universe was taking a breath. Then the sound returned. The gentle lap of the pond, the call of a far-off bird. Tau barked excitedly. It was unclear if he really knew what exactly was happening, but he seemed to understand what that flower meant.

Hassian froze. He had just discussed this with himself. He’d decided his answer. He’d decided to hold this down…

This warmth that spread through him, his heart fluttering. The flower glowed in the fading twilight as the first rays of the sun crept onto the scene. It would be so easy, to just take it…

“I…” His hand lifted, just a hint. “This is for me?”

Robin looked down at the flower. “Yeah. It might be a little wrinkled, it, uh… took me a bit to bring.”

Hassian took a deep breath. “You do know what it means, do you not?”

Robin met his eyes. His skin tone was different from Hassian’s, a more tan beige instead of purple, and his blush tinted him bright red. Not just his cheeks, but his whole face and ears. His hand was trembling, but his gaze was steady. He knew.

He could just take the lily. Robin’s eyes looked grey in the twilight, but the first ray of sun hit his face, and his eyes shone blue. The breeze moved through dark hair, gently waving it. His face was determined, if a little nervous. It was such a soft face…

Robin’s hand faltered. “You don’t want it?”

“No- I mean, yes!” The answer slipped out before Hassian had a chance to think. “I want it.” He took the flower. It felt soft in his hand, gentle and delicate. The petals were a little rumpled, but it still faintly glowed. His fingers seemed too big for it. “I didn’t realize you felt…” His head caught up to him. He had realized it, sort of. He’d just been wary to believe it. He’d told himself not to accept it, if it happened, but now that it was in his hand, and he could see tension leaving Robin’s shoulders…

Giving it back was unthinkable. He cleared his throat. “I… will accept this. For now.”

Robin smiled, but it was a new smile. Hassian hadn’t seen this one before. It was bashful. His posture relaxed into a small burst of nervous energy that moved down to his shoes. His feet flexed, putting his weight on his heels and tapping his toes giddily against the ground. The hand that held the flower reached up to rub his neck. He looked down at Tau, who was leaning against his legs, panting happily.

“I, uh, I don’t really have time to stop by later today.” He laughed awkwardly. “Partly ‘cause I need some sleep. But, uh, I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Hassian nodded. “Tomorrow.”

Robin grinned and gave Tau a parting rub on the head, and headed off, back towards his house.

I did it.

I asked.

Robin felt like his feet were barely touching the ground. His heart was thudding too fast, the cold wind felt good against his warm skin, and he was grinning like a lunatic. He could feel his anxiety squirming in his stomach, but for the time being, it was outmatched by the excitement in his chest. He felt queasy and ecstatic, he felt fatigued and energetic.

He had basically gone straight from the inn to Bahari Bay, mostly to give an apology. But then the flower was in his pocket, and there was no chance of anyone in the village seeing him…

That was the perfect chance to be a tiny bit dramatic.

He hadn’t really managed to say what he’d wanted to say. He couldn’t get out the little speech about how Hassian made him feel comfortable, or about hunting together. It hadn’t been a good speech to begin with, he decided, and the flower was clearly enough.

Frankly, the flower probably did a better job of communicating than he did. What the hell did he mean “is this a bad time”? Hassian was literally walking away, why would it be a good time?

Part of him was buzzing with the usual questions. What did this mean for them? How was a relationship with the quiet hunter going to work? What if he messed up again? But for now, the buzzing in his head sent energy to his legs. He wondered if he’d be able to sleep once he got home.

By the time he fell into bed, he was still buzzing, but pretty much as soon as he was horizontal, exhaustion hit him like a brick and he fell fast asleep.

Chapter Text

Reth looked up as he heard footsteps enter the inn. He’d fallen asleep with his head on the bar. Blinking sleep out of his eyes, he saw Robin coming in. It was afternoon, Hodari had just left, and the inn was empty.

“Hey, soup boy.” Robin saw Reth’s red eyes. “You okay?”

Reth grinned weakly and pushed himself up from the bar. The movement seemed to take more effort than it should’ve. “Doin’ good, sweet tooth.”

“Right,” Robin said doubtfully. “Somethin’ up?”

“Nope. Doing just peachy. Hey, did you…”

“Yeah.” Robin folded his arms. “I delivered the little suspiciously wrapped package.” His eyes searched Reth’s face. His voice was even and quiet. “That was definitely not a cake.”

Reth froze. “You didn’t open it, did you?!” He tried his best to keep his voice down, but his urgency caught Robin off guard.

Robin frowned. “Didn’t need to.” He tilted his head, his voice quiet but accusing. “What the hell did you have me trekking out to Bahari for?”

Reth hesitated. He looked back down at the bar, then glanced around the inn. There was no one there. He took a deep breath. “Not here. Meet me downstairs, I’ll explain there.”

He pushed back from the bar and made his way around the bar towards a doorway behind Ashura’s empty counter. Robin followed nervously.

Reth headed down a set of stairs Robin hadn’t noticed before. “Here.” He tossed something over his shoulder and Robin caught it. It was a key, cold and somewhat old-looking. “Spare key, you can come down anytime. I think you’ve earned that.” He used his own key to unlock a door at the bottom of the stairs.

The room below the inn was about half the size of the main room, but it felt much more cramped. A few sturdy tables were shoved up against various walls, with scattered cooking implements, recipe books, and bottles of alcohol. Robin squinted nervously at the bottles, but to his relief, they seemed to just be various wines and beers for cooking rather than drinking. A good sign was that a bunch were opened and about half-full, indicating they were being used a bit at a time for recipes without being drunk. A couple of places looked like they were abandoned recipes, with some ingredients scattered in frustration. A set of shelves lined an alcove, a storage for dry ingredients and dishware. There was an entire bookshelf dedicated to spices, and it was crammed full. In one corner, a few cooking stations and a stove sat. A few recipe books – one of which looked like it belonged to the library but was covered in dust – were scattered on one of the stations. The stove was surprisingly clean, seemingly the only thing in the room Reth looked after. By contrast, the crude bed in another corner with a Reth-shaped indent in the mattress looked like it hadn’t been cleaned in weeks. Crates were shoved anywhere they might fit, between pieces of furniture, stacked high, and a couple in the middle of the floor. One was being used as a table, even though there was enough table space elsewhere. In one corner was a curtain. It fluttered when the door opened, revealing a little corridor with more crates.

Reth rubbed his hands together. “Alright. So I, uh…” He trailed off.

“You live down here?” Robin squinted at the bed.

“Yeah. I don’t usually have a lot of time to sleep.” Reth wiped his hands against his apron. “Gotta keep hustling, y’know?”

Robin looked at him strangely. “Right. So, the cake you sent me to grab…”

“Was a Flow device,” Reth blurted out.

Robin blinked and nodded slowly. “An illegal Flow device.”

“Exactly.” Reth fiddled with the ladle in his apron. “I, um… I could get in a lot of trouble for this. Using Flow as a Majiri is illegal. Very illegal. Like everyone in sight arrested by Watchers illegal. Just having that device could get me in some very hot water.” Reth kicked at a crate ruefully. “Any device could. Even the harmless ones. Or the ones that could save someone.”

“So were you trying to get rid of it, or…”

“Well, no, not exactly. I was delivering it. Or, I guess you were delivering it.” Reth sighed. “It’s my side hustle. I shouldn’t have gotten you into it, but Eshe’s been keeping a closer eye on me lately. I don’t think she knows anything, but if she suspects something, Zeki and I both get it.”

“Tamala did mention Zeki. You work for him, then?” Robin scratched at his neck thoughtfully. “I thought he was just dealing with human trinkets or rugs. He doesn’t sell Flow in the Underground…” His eyes wandered to the curtain.

“Oh, he does. But he has to take extra steps for that.” Reth took a deep breath. “Listen, I promise what I’m delivering isn’t dangerous. So… Are we good?”

Robin folded his arms across his chest, thinking. Reth met his eyes and gave a weak grin.

“...Y’know what? No. No, we’re not good.”

Reth flinched. Robin’s voice had an edge to it. Hurt boiled in his stomach. He’d thought the cake excuse for the package was suspicious, but somehow, he’d still hoped Reth had told the truth about the package. Illegal or not, Reth was a good friend, and the idea that he would lie to Robin’s face made the human’s heart burn.

“I’m willing to help from time to time. I’m your friend. And I don’t really care if you keep secrets from me. But for god’s sake, don’t lie to me. If you want to keep things from me, tell me that’s what you’re doing. Don’t feed me some bullshit about it being a cake.” Robin closed his eyes, trying to keep calm. He didn’t want to raise his voice. “You should’ve just said you couldn’t tell me. I’d have appreciated a heads up that it was illegal – that way I could be a bit more stealthy – but I trusted you enough that if you just told me you really needed help, I wouldn’t have asked questions. But now I’m not sure I can trust you that much anymore. So no, we’re not good.”

Reth was staring at the floor. His cheeks were changing color. “Sorry, sweet tooth.”

Robin looked down. “Don’t ‘sorry’ me. I’m not ready to hear it.”

Reth sighed. “Yeah, that’s fair. I wish I could say I’m surprised.” He sounded a little bitter. “You can keep the key. If you ever change your mind… you know where to find me.”

“I’ll find you.” Robin pocketed the key and turned to head upstairs. “I’ll probably get over this. Don’t talk to me until I’ve had a chance to calm down and come back.”

Reth stood in the storeroom for several seconds after Robin had left. “Nice to know I’m disappointing you, too,” he muttered in the direction of the closed door. “At least I’m consistent.”

Chapter Text

“I saw that,” Hassian said reproachfully. “New hand.”

Auni huffed and dealt himself a new hand from the deck, which ended up including the card he’d tried to subtly slip back in. Hassian watched his hands with an eyebrow raised.

“I’m not sure why you bother cheating,” he muttered. “A fair game is a better reward than a win. If you’re going to cheat, I’d hope you’d at least come up with a new way to do it.”

Auni looked over his cards with disgust. The boy couldn’t play with a straight face, and Hassian could tell it was more than just one card giving him trouble. But with the hunter alert, he didn’t dare to try anything sneaky again.

It was ultimately pointless, cheating. Although Hassian wouldn’t admit it, Auni was more skilled in the game than he was. Auni would occasionally throw the game to even the score, but he could win pretty reliably. He was by no means brilliant, but he was quite fond of the game, and as kids tend to do, he threw himself into it in a way Hassian was too busy to do. Hassian may have more experience, but a determined kid can pick up a skill much faster.

But that was probably why he cheated. Hassian was worse at the game, but cheating was hard to get away with under his eye, and for Auni, that made it a challenge. An extra game within their game, where he learned to be quiet and careful. He could win without cheating, but the cheating itself – if he got away with it – was the harder and more fun part of it. A challenging game was a better reward than a win.

Hassian sighed. There wasn’t much he could do. Although he wanted to discourage the kid’s dishonesty, Auni clearly wasn’t going to listen to him on the subject, no matter how many times he tried to lecture the kid about trust and fairness. Ultimately, he had two choices: let Auni get away with it and hope the lack of challenge would make him bored of it, or keep challenging him and catch him as often as possible.

At least the kid was learning to have nimble fingers, he supposed.

The game came to an end, and Auni collected the cards to stow in his giant backpack. Hassian sometimes wondered if some of the cards ever got lost and they were playing with less than a full deck, but he didn’t particularly want to count the cards and see. Instead, he said goodbye to the boy and went to join his mother at a table inside.

The inn was busy, as it usually was at this time. It was his scheduled time for dinner, and that routine made the noise bearable. As long as his day followed its approximate course, he could handle a typical busyness. But he was a bit more nervous than usual today. His day had started very oddly, and he hadn’t fully figured out what to do with the knowledge that his relationship with Robin had changed. He wasn’t even sure why he’d accepted the gift. What happened to his resolution not to court someone who wouldn’t obey Majiri tradition? But he had asked in a Majiri way, with the lily. That had to mean something.

“What’s got your head?” Sifuu asked, half joking. Hassian didn’t answer for a while, so Sifuu clapped him on the back, making him jerk forward. He was a bit shorter than average, but he was not a small man, except when compared with the likes of Sifuu and Ashura. Sifuu absolutely dwarfed him, head and shoulders over him and with arms almost as big around as his head. She held back when she shoved him, but it was still enough to bump him against the table.

It was treatment he wouldn’t accept from anyone else, even though he had a good relationship with Ashura, the only other person strong enough to do anything similar. From his mother, it was endearing. A display of mutual strength, trusting that he could take a hit. From anyone else, it would be much too aggressive.

“C’mon, spill,” she said jovially. “Somethin’ on your mind?”

“Only if you can keep your voice down.” Hassian glanced around. Mayor Kenli and the shopkeeper Zeki were also hanging around, hopefully talking too loudly to hear. Chayne was there, too, but Hassian wouldn’t mind as much if he overheard.

“No promises,” Sifuu said, raising her mug to drink.

Hassian looked up at her. “Robin gave me a courtship gift.”

Sifuu choked, trying desperately to avoid spitting all over the table. She failed, and a small spout of ale hit the tabletop. After a moment, she sputtered, “He did WHAT?!”

Out of the corner of his eye, Hassian saw two of Zeki’s ears twitch. The Grimalkin had good hearing. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Voice down, please.”

“Sorry,” Sifuu whispered. “But… Robin gave you a gift?”

Hassian nodded. He’d put the lily in a bowl of water in the grove, so he didn’t have it with him.

“Did you accept it?”

Hassian took a deep breath. “Yes.”

Sifuu whooped loudly, and Hassian hid his face in his hand. He wished he’d chosen a better place, but dinner at the inn was pretty much the only time he talked with his mother. Most evenings they would also go to the forge for practical lessons, but the sounds of the forge and the focus of the lessons didn’t lend themselves to serious conversation. At this point, Kenli and Zeki were looking over with curiosity, but Chayne and Ashura were exchanging knowing looks. Hassian felt a twinge of worry. Did Chayne tell Ashura about Robin?

He wouldn’t do that. More likely, Robin had said something to Ashura himself. He was quite close to the innkeeper. The innkeeper and the sage were very old friends, and it shouldn’t be surprising that they would discuss the issue. Still, the thought that the two were talking behind Hassian’s back made him feel a bit betrayed.

To her credit, Sifuu, perhaps the biggest gossip in town, managed to keep the news of the courtship to herself. At least until Hassian had left the inn. He had no idea if she’d spill as soon as he left.

Chapter Text

Back in the grove, Hassian spun the lily in his fingers. What was he thinking? What happened to nipping this in the bud? What happened to refusing to date someone who wouldn’t follow traditions? Was one crush and a pretty flower really all it took to compromise him?

His heart still burned at the thought of how Robin had spoken of Chayne. He’d apologized, kind of, but it didn’t seem like he was actually going to treat Chayne any differently. He’d shown, at best, ambivalence towards Majiri beliefs and mistrust of their sages. Why did Hassian accept a flower from that?

He reached to put the lily back in the bowl. He should give it back the next time he sees Robin. Tell him he’d thought it over, but he didn’t think they’d make a good match. It’d be disappointing and a bit rude, but it would be best to end things now, instead of wasting his time and leading Robin on.

His hand stopped before he reached the bowl. Was he sure they were a bad match? Robin was coming around to Chayne. Or at least, being nice. He was following the Majiri way of beginning a relationship. Maybe he’d keep going that way.

But he still shouldn’t. He looked up at the Lovers constellation. He should know better. He didn’t want this all to end badly.

That smile, those gentle blue eyes, the dark hair kept short and wavy…

Slowly, he returned the lily to the bowl. He walked over to the waterfall and settled on the rock. Flipping open the notebook, he ignored the unfinished sonnet and turned to a new page.

Lost in worlds of summer starlight
Left alone to die or prosper
Love proves difficult to foster
For a heart that’s fallen from right

If a man has kept his chest tight
Left his world to walk another
Moving hands to feelings smother
Head held high but heart a coward
Gifts of love with meaning scoured
Can he be more than the other?

He sighed. That one was easier. He’d meant for the poem to be about Robin, but scanning over the lines, he briefly wondered how much of it could be applied to himself as well.

“We’re both a little out of place,” he muttered. “Maybe… maybe I can make this work.”

But did he want to?

Robin took a deep breath as he entered the forge. A wall of heat hit him like a wave of water, and he felt his skin prickle with sweat. He grimaced. He hated the heat, but he was summoned, so he came.

Sifuu was standing by the oven, slowly pumping the bellows. “Robin! You came!”

Robin gave an uneasy grin. “It’d be rude not to. What’s up?”

“When Hassian said he accepted a courtship gift, I nearly spit out my ale.” Sifuu chuckled and checked the metal piece in the fire, deciding to leave it be for a bit. She stepped away from the forge. “Ever since that fiasco with the forest witch, Hassian hasn’t shown interest in anyone.”

Robin frowned. “Forest wi- Hassian dated Tamala?”

Sifuu glared down at the bellows. “The one and only. If I ever get my hands on that hussy…”

Robin raised his hands. “Whoa, okay. No need to call her a hussy.”

“Fine, I’ll use another word. That bitch broke my boy’s heart.” Sifuu slammed her fist into the bricks of the forge with a shower of dust. Robin took a step back. “Tore it right out of his chest and crushed it! I don’t know the details, but he was broken up about it for months.” She dusted off her gloves. “But all that’s in the past now. I’ve been encouraging him to put himself out there again, and here you are!”

Robin looked at her warily. “You’re… okay with this?”

“Why wouldn’t I be? I think you’d be good for him. Get him out of his shell a bit, get him to open up.” Sifuu winked. “Besides, I’m not gonna get between him and someone he likes.”

Robin shrugged. “I kind of figured you’d be… more protective, I guess. Especially if he’s already had his heart broken once…”

Sifuu snorted. “Tamala was very different from you. She’d trample a dozen hearts to get what she wants. You wouldn’t hurt a fly, much less my boy. I’m rooting for you. Let’s see…” She scratched at the back of her head. “Hassian’s a special boy. I know more about what he hates than what he likes. Don’t bring up roundball. Or chapaas. Best to stay away from anything to do with magic too. And monster slaying. And he’s not much for swordfighting either. Or monster slaying. He doesn’t like people who brag too much… What else…”

Robin raised an eyebrow. “So… don’t be too much like you?”

“Hey!” Sifuu squared her shoulders defensively. “I don’t brag too much! I brag just enough!”

“Right.” Robin chuckled. “I think I’ve got it, Sifuu. I can figure it out.”

“You sure?” Sifuu scratched at her neck. “Well, it’s your funeral if you mess it up. Now go out there and woo my boy!”

Robin grinned. “Glad to know I have your blessing.”

Chapter Text

The air felt different the next time Robin came to sit in the grass. He settled in with his sketchbook, but he seemed to have a lot of trouble focusing. Hassian couldn’t blame him. He was having some trouble himself. Tau seemed to sense the difference, but he had to take a break from trying to get them to relax in order to eat the food Robin brought.

Hassian took the plate, then blinked in surprise. On the plate were three breaded filets of catfish, complete with salsa. He recognized the recipe.

“Fried catfish?”

Robin avoided his eyes. “Found the recipe in the grove. Hope you don’t mind.” He took a bite of a filet and chewed it thoughtfully. “What do you think?”

Hassian took a bite. “Overdone, and the salsa has too much onion.” It occurred to him after he’d said it that he sounded rude, complaining about food he was given, but Robin had asked what he thought.

“Yeah, it seems a little too crunchy.” Robin looked over his filets. “And the inside’s dry. I’m not used to frying things, I’ll figure it out.” He took another bite. “No, Tau,” he said to the hound, who had already inhaled his fish and was eyeing Robin’s. Tau attempted plumepuppy eyes, but Robin was immune.

Hassian pulled out his bow, raising himself to a kneel. A chapaa was scrounging around not far off, an easy shot. He heard Robin suck in his breath as he shot the chapaa, and Tau fetched it. When he glanced at the human, Robin was staring at him, but he quickly looked away. His cheeks were a bit pink.

The question still loomed over Hassian’s head. Was this human worth potentially compromising for? But now that he was next to him, he wondered if he had much of a choice. He felt that fluttering in his gut, seeing Robin blush. The human looked about as awkward as he felt. His hands fussed with the sketchbook, not sketching, or even really trying. He kept his head down, looking at the ground, and his eyes were wide, a small amount of nervous panic in his bashfulness.

It was an incredibly endearing face.

Hassian watched him fidget with the book. He hadn’t really paid much attention to the human’s hands before. The fingers were long, calloused but dextrous. He scratched at the book’s spine, ran fingers over the cover. His thumb flipped the edge of a page. They were quite quick, those hands.

He felt heat rise in his own cheeks and tore his eyes away. He wanted to make this work. He just wasn’t sure he could. “My mother spoke to you, didn’t she?”

“Yeah. Apparently she’s rooting for me. I honestly thought she was gonna threaten me.”

Hassian started. “Why?!”

“Y’know, ‘cause we’re… a thing. I thought she’d be more protective.”

“Protective, yes, but there’s no need for threats!”

“You guys don’t do that?” Robin looked up at him. “Preemptive threats? In case something goes wrong?” He grinned.

Hassian stared at him. “...I can’t tell if you’re joking.”

“Not really. I’m honestly only just now realizing how weird that practice is.” Robin shrugged. “For humans, if someone starts something romantic, everyone who’s close to them has to threaten their new partner. The closer they are, and the more protective, the more creative the threats. So I was expecting some real fun ones from Sifuu.”

“What sort of threats?”

“Oh, you know. ‘If you break their heart I’ll break your legs’, ‘if you hurt them the cops will never find your body’, stuff like that.”

Hassian was absolutely dumbfounded. “Those are… very grave threats for something so innocuous as the start of a relationship.”

“Yeah.” Robin smiled, thoroughly amused. “No one really carried them out, as far as I know. That’s why I never really made threats like that. I don’t promise what I won’t do.”

“Why threaten, then?”

“I’m… not sure. I didn’t realize how weird it was before now.” Robin contemplated, looking over the grass. “I guess it was a sort of… declaration of loyalty. Your mother threatening me would be her way of saying – to both of us – that she was there for you, and she would take your side if things went wrong.”

“There are better ways to do that.”

“Yeah. I think humans were just… acutely aware of how much a bad relationship can hurt someone. A broken heart doesn’t mend easily.” Robin glanced over at Hassian, but decided not to ask if that applied to him. “So we put a lot of emphasis on being there for someone when their heart’s broken.”

Hassian sighed. “A lovely sentiment. All the same, I am grateful my mother did not express it in such a… violent manner.”

“Me too. I might’ve actually shit myself if a woman Sifuu’s size told me she’d steal my kneecaps.”

Kenyatta was sitting on the bench when she saw Robin approach. She sat up and glanced around to see if anyone was watching. “Did you ask him?”

Robin flopped down on the bench and put his head in his hands. “Yes, and I kind of regret it.”

Kenyatta snorted. “You were all gaga for him a week ago. What happened? Did he say no?”

“Everything is awwwkwarrrrd,” Robin whined. “Christ, it was hard enough just being around him before. Now it feels like my hands don’t work right. It’s hard to focus with him near me, but we still don’t talk much, so it’s just uncomfortable.”

Kenyatta laughed. “Oh, yeah. Don’t sweat it, every relationship’s like that at the start.”

“So it gets better?”

“Eh, mostly. You’ll never fully get rid of that tension.” Kenyatta leaned back and put her elbows on the back of the bench. “That’s part of the fun! Relax, it’ll work itself out. You two just have to figure out how to be around each other.”

Robin sighed and sat back. “I hate it.”

Kenyatta punched him on the arm. “I’m proud of you, though. Asking him out took guts.”

Robin gave a small smile. “So what are we now? Are we dating, or talking, or what?”

“That’s up to you two, but I guess it is a little early to have the ‘what are we’ talk. You’re not officially dating yet, so you’re just seeing each other. Let things settle down a little, and once you’re more comfortable, you can ask him what you are.” She leaned forward. “Now c’mon, give me details! How’d he react?”

“I think he blushed,” Robin said, his smile returning. “It’s hard to tell, but his skin definitely changed hue. He seemed hesitant about it, and pretty surprised, but I think that’s the first time I’ve ever really seen him fumble with his words.”

“OMD, that’s adorable.” Kenyatta grinned. “Gotta be honest, never thought the guy was capable of crushing on someone. I kinda just thought he was some weird hermit.”

“Oh, he is,” Robin confirmed. “But he’s a cute weird hermit.”

Kenyatta laughed. “If you say so, lover boy.”

Chapter Text

Robin walked into the empty inn and headed for the counter. He could hear Reth rooting around in the back. After a while, he cleared his throat, and the noise abruptly ceased.

Reth popped out of the kitchen with a look of disbelief. “You’re back!”

Robin smiled sadly. “I’m ready for that ‘sorry’ now.”

Reth grinned. “Of course!” Then his smile dropped and he made his best attempt at sincerity. It looked a little odd on him, like it was something he hadn’t done in a while. “I’m really sorry, sweet tooth. I’m honestly just used to lying at this point. But you’re right, I shouldn’t have lied to you. I should’ve trusted you. It won’t happen again, I promise.” He stuck out his hand over the counter. “We good?”

“Careful, Reth. I take promises very seriously.” Robin took his hand. “But we’re good.”

They shook on it, and Reth broke into a wide grin. “Good, ‘cause you’re probably the only friend I have around here.”

The next few days weren’t any less awkward between Robin and Hassian, although Robin did make a couple attempts at flirting. He took to walking alongside Hassian if he ever spotted him in town to hit him with a stupid line.

“Did you need something, Robin?”

“Nah, just thinkin’ of you.”

“You should probably think of where you’re going before you step in a chapaa hole.”

Or,

“Hey Hassian, if I could rearrange the alphabet, I’d put U and I together.”

“That would be a waste of time.”

Over time, Robin relaxed. His stupid puns and Hassian’s sharp responses felt more normal, more predictable. The banter was better than the silence. The times they sat together were still quiet, but he would spend that time coming up with more terrible pick-up lines to try out. It was funnier when he could fall into step, blurt out the line, and then speedwalk away, although he did decide to try a couple out while they were sitting.

He sat with his elbows on his knees, staring at Hassian for quite a while before he noticed.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Do you have a map?” Robin’s lips quirked, trying not to laugh and give away the punchline.

Hassian looked at him with disbelief. “Shouldn’t you have one too? Why?”

Robin grinned and said in a mockingly sappy tone, “Because I just got lost in your eyes.”

Hassian stared at him for a moment, then stood up. “I’m leaving.”

Robin burst out laughing. “You know what, that’s fair. See you tomorrow!” He hopped to his feet and jogged away, snickering.

Hassian watched him go. He felt himself blush. It was a fantastically stupid line, but seeing Robin laugh like that made his heart shiver a little. And he couldn’t deny that he’d noticed Robin had a spring in his step.

Chapter Text

Robin was logging out near the lake when Auni came running up to him. The kid skidded to a stop and nearly toppled with his oversized backpack. “Hey Robin! I need a favor.”

Robin rolled his shoulders and put the axe on the ground. “What’s up?”

“Can you get my camping stuff out of my treehouse? I need to get out of town for a bit.”

Robin chuckled. “I hear ya. Who you goin’ with?”

“I mean… I figured it’d just be me.”

Robin blinked. Suspicion crept up in his chest. “Yeah? Whereabouts are you headed?”

Auni grinned. “There’s a little campsite out in Bahari. It’s got these really cool human ruins-”

“Bahari?” Robin straightened in alarm. “You’re going all the way out there on your own?”

Auni huffed stubbornly. “I can handle it! I’m not a kid!”

“Yes, you are, bud! It’s not really safe to be out that way alone.”

“Hassian lives out in Bahari, and no one seems mad at him!”

Robin ignored his heart skipping a beat at the name. “Hassian has years of experience that you don’t have. And his mom still worries about him.”

“Well, how am I gonna get experience if you won’t let me?!”

“By having someone else there! Maybe Nai’o, or Hassian. Or at least be somewhere closer to home. You start smaller.”

“I don’t want to be close to home! I want to be away from this!”

“Kid, I get that you’re upset, but I don’t want you going missing.”

“Well maybe that’s what I want to do!”

Robin’s head whipped around. “You what?”

Auni shut his mouth and glared at Robin. Robin stood his ground.

“Auni, tell me what’s actually going on.”

Auni’s lip trembled a bit, and he looked down at the ground.

“I just… want my family to notice me. I want them to notice I’m gone.”

Robin stood and stared at Auni for several long seconds. The boy kept his head down and kicked at a rock. His cheeks burned.

“Kiddo…” Robin started to talk, then stopped. After a moment, he reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Alright, sit. I’m about to save you years of therapy.”

He put his hands on Auni’s shoulders and sat him down on a fallen tree, then sat beside him.

“Talk to me. Where is this coming from?”

Auni stared at his shoes. “My parents always talk about Nai’o, and how proud of him they are, and how he’ll run the farm one day. I don’t wanna run the farm, I don’t want to follow their Path. I know that might make them happy, but… it wouldn’t make me happy.”

Robin frowned. “Back up a step for me. Where does running away fit into this?”

“I don’t know.” Auni was idly digging into the wood bench with his fingernail. “I guess I just feel like I’m invisible. Like I’m not what they want, and…”

“And you feel like they’re ignoring you?”

Auni nodded.

“I can see why you’d feel out of place. The rest of your family wants very different things than you do, and that’s pretty isolating.” It occurred to Robin that that might be where his friendship with Hassian came from. “You have very different interests and skills.”

“Yeah, and it feels like those don’t matter,” Auni grumbled. “They don’t care.”

“Right. What matters to you doesn’t matter to them, so it feels like you don’t matter to them.”

“Yeah!” Auni crossed his arms. “But if I ran away, I’d definitely matter then!”

“Running away won’t fix jack shit,” Robin said bluntly.

Auni looked up at him in surprise.

“Don’t tell your mom I cussed. If you run, it’ll go one of two ways. Either they won’t notice and you feel even more alone, or they’ll get freaked out. And if you freak them out, they’re going to make things worse. They might keep you from going on your mail route, or catching bugs, because they won’t want you out of sight. If you scare them like that, it’s not going to turn out well. That’s why these little cries for attention never work. They never fix the problem, which is that your interests and your personality feel insignificant.”

Auni kicked the log under him in frustration. “What am I supposed to do? Just let it happen?”

“No.” Robin grabbed Auni’s arm. “You talk to them about this.”

Auni turned his head away. “They’re not going to listen.”

“Have you tried?”

“Well, no, but why would they bother?”

“Because they care about you.” Robin stood up from the log and knelt down in front of Auni, holding him by the shoulders. “You do matter to them. It doesn’t feel like it because they’re not doing a great job of showing it. But they love you, and they want you to feel loved. So if you don’t, something’s wrong, and you need to tell them that.”

Auni kept his eyes down. “What if they don’t listen?”

“If they won’t listen to you, I’ll make them listen to me.” Robin squeezed the kid’s shoulders. “I’ve got your back, bud. Try to talk this out with Nai’o. Okay?”

Auni slowly nodded. “Okay. But if he won’t hear me, you have to promise you’ll help.”

“I promise.”

Hassian came to visit Robin, but as soon as he stepped on the plot, Tau sniffed at the air and whined, bending to the ground to track the smell.

“What is it?”

Tau moved forward, following the scent, but Hassian didn’t see anything unusual until they reached the side of the house. There, Robin stood, looking at something behind the house.

It was an odd stance. Robin was hunched, his knees bent a little, as if trying to sneak up on something. When he heard Hassian, he waved his hand frantically by his side without looking around, trying to tell Hassian to stop. Hassian paused, watching him.

Robin gently creeped forward a step, then stopped. He bowed his head gently, blinking slowly, then looked back up. After a moment, he crept forward again.

“Pspsps,” he whispered. “Hello. Hello, little guy. Pspspsps.”

Hassian froze, realizing Robin was calling to something. Something he didn’t want to startle.

Robin took another step forward, then abruptly straightened. “Aw, dammit,” he said, returning to normal volume. “Fine. Sorry, Hassian, there was a kitsuu.”

“There was a what?!” Hassian tried to keep his voice down, but his shock made it difficult.

“Come look.”

Hassian joined Robin and peered around the house. A statue stood behind it, a broken stone ring standing on its edge. It was the same statue they’d seen in the Temple of the Flames, complete with a carving of a kitsuu… and a hole in the base.

“Found it in a vault. Long story. But there’s a kitsuu in there.” Robin pointed at the base. “I’ve been trying to be its friend for a couple days now. Today was the closest I got to it, and the first time it saw me and didn’t immediately vanish.” He smiled. “I’ve been leaving it food, and yesterday there was a dead chapaa on my doorstep. I think it’s leaving me gifts.”

Hassian stared at the hole. Based on its size, and what he remembered from the Temple, he estimated a kitsuu was about half the mass of a chapaa, and lean and long as opposed to round. “If the chapaa is its prey, then it is more vicious than I anticipated.”

“I would think you’d be happy about that.”

“I am. The kitsuu is a sacred animal. It stands to reason that it would object to this threat. All the same, that is quite a bit of strength from something so small.”

Robin glanced over. “You’re one to talk.”

Hassian blinked. “What?”

“I’m calling you short,” Robin clarified, the corner of his mouth twitching in amusement.

Hassian folded his arms. “I’m not that short. You’re barely taller than me.”

“You’re short.” Robin grinned.

Hassian sighed. “In any case, how do you plan to befriend it?”

“Same way I befriended you. Hang out with it in a place where it’s comfortable, give it the option to run away, be persistent, and offer food.”

Hassian stared in bewilderment. “... you treated me like a wild animal?”

“Kind of. Same technique I used to befriend house cats back home.” Robin put a hand over his heart. “Mark my words, Hassian, I will continue my efforts for as long as it is feasible.” He looked around. “What do you think of the spot, by the way? I was trying to make sure it has privacy, but I’m worried it’ll feel like it’s boxed in.”

Hassian stayed silent. He was still reeling from being compared to a kitsuu.

And also from the fact that it had worked.

Chapter Text

Hassian heard the witch approaching the camp. She never hid her steps; she wanted to be heard.

“Tamala,” he acknowledged, still working on an arrow.

“Oh, no need to be so formal, darling.” Tamala pushed her hair back behind her shoulders. “I only wanted to chat.”

Tau, as usual, came up to greet her, but even he seemed to be more polite than affectionate. Tamala would only accept licks on her hands, and tended to get fussy if he tried anywhere else, and she petted him, but not with much enthusiasm.

Tamala and Hassian had a… complicated relationship these days. About a year ago, when they’d been broken up for about a month, Tamala reached back out to him. She made it clear that she didn’t want to rekindle anything, but she didn’t want to stay strangers. So instead, they stayed acquaintances. While they rarely spoke, Tamala still stopped by from time to time, asking for gossip and teasing him. At first he’d thought it was more games and kept his distance, determined not to let himself fall again. He’d kept a formal, polite tone, even more stiff than his usual, refusing to pretend they were friends. But as the heartbreak faded, he became grateful, in a way, that she still came by. Tamala rarely said what she meant, and she tended to play little games when talking to someone, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that she was genuinely concerned about him. She made it quite clear when they broke up that she hadn’t realized he’d been so smitten with her, and now she seemed to be making peace.

Or maybe she was hoping to string him along again. It was sometimes hard to tell if she was being malignant or if she was just manipulative by nature. In any case, he didn’t spend much time with her if he could help it, but the occasional rumor was usually enough to keep her at bay so she wouldn’t make fun of him.

“I was wondering if you’d heard any gossip from around the town,” Tamala stretched out on a log opposite him. “After all, it’s because of you that I can’t go back.”

He didn’t look up. “Do not blame me for my mother’s anger. But from what I’ve heard, the librarian and my mother are feuding over my mother working late at night, the magistrate had a stink bug in her desk when her sister in law visited, and the cook may have a secret lover.” He didn’t mind sharing some of the things circulating around town. It wasn’t like Tamala was going to spread the gossip further. And most of what he knew was from his mother, and knowing her, she’d told half the town as well.

Tamala leaned forward. “A secret lover? Oh, do tell!”

“Not much to tell. He’s been sneaking off at night, and a couple people think it’s to see someone.”

Tamala deflated. “Ah. Unfortunately, I know how the cook spends his nights, and I’m sure he wishes it was with a lover. Pity. The human and the cook would’ve been a juicy pair.”

Hassian’s hands stopped moving. “What does Robin have to do with this?”

Tamala’s eyes sparkled. “Oh, don’t fret, the cook has no such amour. But I do have some gossip of my own.” She leaned forward conspiratorially. “The human was passing through here a few weeks ago or so, asking me where he could find a heartdrop lily. I was hoping you knew who’d received it.”

Of course she had another motive for this. It wasn’t uncommon for her to just want some rumors, but he should’ve realized this one was intentional. Hassian felt his cheeks start to burn. He really hadn’t wanted Tamala to know about Robin. He didn’t know how she’d react, or if she’d be jealous, or if she’d try to mess things up. He didn’t hate her, but he didn’t trust her either.

Unfortunately, she could read him like a book. She gave a small, dramatic gasp. “Perhaps for you?”

He stayed quiet. She rolled her eyes.

“Let me rephrase. Was the flower for you? Or are you just hoping it was?”

She let the silence linger. Hassian closed his eyes and gritted his teeth.

“It was for me.”

Tamala laughed triumphantly, clapping her hands together. “Darling! You should’ve come to see me the moment he gave it to you! Oh, this is delicious. My little Hassian, off to conquer hearts! Oh, I simply must speak to Robin about this-”

“Stay out of it.”

Hassian’s tone was more harsh than he’d intended, but he had no intention of letting Tamala spoil this for him. If she drove Robin away…

Tamala scoffed. “My dear, I’m simply trying to look after you. After all, you are not always the best at seeing someone’s intentions. It has led you astray before.” The words were an intentional jab. “You and your mother both are too trusting. Someone has to make sure this is genuine, and it might as well be me.”

“I do not need your help. Do not interfere.” Hassian finally looked up at her, his eyes blazing.

She arched an eyebrow. “You cannot afford to get this fired up over a boy and yet refuse to make sure he feels the same. Although I will admit, I’m a little hurt that you’ve moved on from me so quickly.”

“It’s been months. I’ve let it go.”

“I really was hoping you would be pining for me at least a little longer. In any case, one small chat with your new love to clear things up won’t do any harm.”

“Do not interfere.” Hassian stood, picking up his quiver and putting the arrow inside. “I do not need your help.” He walked off, and Tau gave Tamala a parting lick before following.

“If it goes belly-up, darling, you have only yourself to blame,” Tamala huffed.

Hassian felt his heart burn at her words, but it was too late. She’d already wormed her way into his head. He was getting fired up over Robin, and if something had changed, if Robin didn’t feel the same anymore…

He took a deep breath. He wanted to make this work. And that meant starting properly.

Chapter Text

Hassian stared at the sky. It was after sunset. He was too restless to write, but too restless to do anything else. All he could do was watch the stars, trying to control his heartbeat. Tau sensed his mood. The plumehound had abandoned his usual spot to curl up against Hassian’s side, his head on Hassian’s lap.

Robin wasn’t coming. He could feel it in his gut. Why would he? When had Hassian been more than cold? All the times Robin tried to show how he felt, how many of them resulted in Hassian pushing him away? The whole time they’d known each other, Robin was always putting more effort in. Meeting on Hassian’s terms, in his way, accepting apathy instead of friendship, and now accepting sarcasm and harsh words in response to his attempts to be romantic. While his lines were silly and cheesy, at least he was saying something. And the whole time, what had Hassian ever said to him in response? And then, the one time at Robin’s plot, frozen in place and unresponsive, the time he’d probably needed Hassian most, Hassian had almost walked away to avoid deviating from schedule. It took Tau’s reproach to get him to stay and be there for the man who’d been nothing but kind and supportive. One letter asking Robin to come to the grove wasn’t going to fix all that.

If Robin doesn’t show up, I should break this off, he decided. He deserves better than this. But if he comes…

Hassian kept his eyes on the stars. “Maji. If he comes, I will be better for him. I promise you.”

And then he heard the lock snick open.

The door creaked, and Hassian’s heart nearly leapt into his throat. Tau sat up for a moment, then took off to greet Robin at the door.

“Buddybuddybuddybuddy!” Robin carefully closed the door behind him while he greeted Tau. It took a bit for him to get past the hound. Tau seemed more excited than usual, bouncing up onto him, trying to lick his face. Robin did his best to ward him off. “Buddy, may I pass?”

“Tau,” Hassian called, and Tau ran to him to lick his face, then back to Robin. “Tau, Maji’s sake, let him in!”

Tau finally dashed back to the fire, barking. He made a play bow, then set off running again, around the fire.

Robin laughed. “What’s gotten into you? Didn’t get to run enough this morning?” He finally made his way towards the fire.

“You’re here.” Hassian could hear the relief in his own voice. “Does this mean you’ve decided to give me another chance?”

Robin cocked his head. “Not sure why you’d need one, you didn’t really lose the first.”

Hassian shook his head. “I find that hard to believe. I’ve been nothing but dismissive and cruel for as long as you’ve known me.” He remembered, briefly, Chayne mentioning that kindness wasn’t always what someone wanted from a friend, but he still didn’t understand why it seemed to be almost completely unnecessary for Robin. Or at least, Robin pretended it was unnecessary.

“In any case, I hope this gift makes my feelings clear.” He picked up the plate he’d had at his side. It had taken some work keeping Tau away from it. The hound mostly understood what it meant, but he still made plumepuppy eyes when Hassian warned him off.

Robin took the plate with some confusion. “A sandwich?”

“Made with things I caught and grew myself.”

“Aww,” Robin smiled happily. “That’s so sweet.”

“Does this mean you accept it?”

“Yeah.”

“Good.” Hassian hesitated. He hadn’t really planned past this point.

“Is that all you called me for?”

“I just…” Hassian felt his blush creeping up on his cheeks. “I wanted to see you.” He looked up at Robin through his hair. “I apologize for making you come all this way, but… I had to know that it was your choice.”

Robin frowned sternly. “I chose you once. Did you think I’d take that back without telling you?” He sounded a little hurt.

Hassian blinked. It hadn’t really occurred to him that Robin would take offense to that. He shook his head. “It’s not that. I just… I had to be sure.” He took a deep breath. “I’ll make it up to you. Next time, I’ll come to you.”

Robin bit his lip. He still seemed a little upset, but Hassian didn’t really know what else to do. So instead he said, “Good night, Robin. I’ll… see you tomorrow?”

Robin met his eye and nodded. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Hassian.”

As Robin headed out, Hassian turned back to the fire, but he glanced up just in time to see Robin take a bite of the sandwich as he went through the door.

Robin came home with a load of logs only to be greeted by an enthusiastic Tau.

“Buddybuddy! Hang on, buddy, I gotta get these to storage. Hang on- buddy! You’re a good boy, but I can’t give scritches with my hands full!”

“Tau,” Hassian called. Tau finally let up and ran back to Hassian’s side.

Robin smiled and gently tipped the logs onto the ground. “Hey, Hassian!”

“Hello.” Hassian held up a sernuk hide and a pair of antlers. “I hunted this earlier. I thought you could make use of it.”

Robin raised an eyebrow. “Are you secretly a cat?”

“What?”

“Never mind.” Robin accepted the hide. “Thank you. Are you staying?”

Hassian shook his head. “I just wanted to see you. You’ve done quite a bit for me, and it’s time I tried to return it.”

“Okay. I’ll see you around?”

“Until then, farewell.”

Robin gave Tau some parting scratches, and he and Hassian departed.

Chapter Text

“What are you doing here?”

Hassian’s tone made Robin pause just inside the door to the grove. Tau ignored Hassian’s voice and bounced around in greeting anyway.

“I thought I’d pop by to see you,” Robin said quietly. He scratched Tau’s ears.

“At night?” Hassian gestured around the dark grove.

“Yes, at night.” Robin folded his arms. “It’s more private here. I thought more private conversations was what you wanted.”

“Not like this. Not at night. Come back in the morning.” Hassian turned away.

Robin stayed. “Did something happen?”

“Yes. Now please, come back in the morning.”

“What happened?”

Hassian didn’t answer. He sat on the log by the fire, facing away.

Robin stood still for several seconds, scratching at Tau’s neck. Then Hassian heard something metal hit the ground, and Robin walked out.

He looked over at the door. Placed on the ground like an offering, just inside the door, were two iron bars.

Robin slipped nervously into the apothecary. He’d been mostly avoiding the place since he emerged, but he needed to talk to the sage. Chayne was quietly reading in an armchair, but he smiled and stood when Robin entered.

“Robin! What brings you?”

Robin took a deep breath and smiled. “Hassian’s being weird. I was hoping you knew what’s up.”

Chayne stroked his beard. “Weird in what way?”

“He kicked up a fuss last night because I went to visit him after dark. I mean, it’s nothing I haven’t done before, and I thought the reason he gave me a key was because he didn’t mind me dropping in. I don’t know what changed, or if I did something wrong.”

Chayne nodded. “I suppose ‘weird’ is all relative. Hassian came to me the other day to ask about traditional Majiri courtship rituals.” He saw a bit of trepidation creep into Robin’s face. “I told him most of them had fallen out of practice, but he insisted.”

“Why?”

“Hassian has always been the traditional sort. It means a lot to him.”

Robin wasn’t smiling anymore, nor was he looking at Chayne. He was looking at the floor, troubled.

“Is something the matter?”

“I don’t want to follow some dusty old books.”

Robin’s words were biting. Chayne blinked. He’d never heard Robin talk with such force. He sighed. They needed to clear the air, and now was as good a time as any to get the human to talk openly. “Sit with me for a moment, if you don’t mind.”

Robin plopped down on a bench, and Chayne joined him.

“What’s this about?”

“Tradition is just peer pressure from the dead.” Robin was clearly trying to hold back, but his contempt still crept into his voice. “Why should people be expected to follow rules that were written in a completely different time? A lot of the reasons for those traditions don’t really make sense anymore.”

“They do not have to follow those traditions, but many of us want to.”

Robin snorted. “And the ones that don’t?”

“Are not required.”

Robin looked Chayne in the eye. “Reth?”

Chayne was quiet. Robin pushed on.

“Your traditions aren’t optional, and there’s consequences if people decide to do things their own way. Reth wanted to stop doing something he hated and chose something he enjoyed, and he’ll probably be looked down on for the rest of his life. More often than not, traditions are just used to shame the people who don’t follow them. The idea that there’s one right way to do everything does nothing but punish anyone who decides the ‘right’ way won’t work for them. And Reth’s not the only one. What about Auni? His family’s pushing him to be a farmer, and if he gives in and declares that his Path, then he’ll be stuck with it. One vow, one declaration, and he’ll be stuck on the farm, unable to pick anything else to do with his life. Meanwhile, Kenli got shoved into his Path, too, and he’s miserable with it. They’re not allowed to grow or change, or switch interests, or everyone has a reason to judge them.”

Chayne shook his head. “Not all of us judge Reth for his choices.”

Robin raised his chin. “Hassian does. And frankly, even if not all of you do, none of you should.”

Chayne sighed. “I’m afraid I don’t see what a Path has to do with courtship rituals. I don’t understand why you object to courting Hassian the way he would like. It would mean a great deal to him-”

“I don’t give a damn. I’m not following some rulebook just because it’s old.”

“What about following it because the man you’re following it with asked you to?”

Robin’s lip curled. Chayne cut him off.

“This isn’t about the nature of tradition. This is about whether you will continue with this relationship in the manner Hassian has asked you to. It’s not about Reth, or Paths. It’s about the two of you.”

Robin looked away. “Hassian or not, I won’t be following anyone’s tradition when I’ve seen it hurt someone.”

“Has it hurt you?”

“Of course it’s hurt me!” Robin snarled. “Maybe not yours, but human traditions around courtship tended to be dehumanizing to the ones who followed them, and brutal to the ones that didn’t. I’ve had way too many people treat me like there’s something fundamentally wrong with me, like I’m ‘impure’ for trying to find my own way. Yeah, traditions mattered to me, too, when I was seven. When every adult in your life tells you there’s only one way to be a good person, it tends to matter to you a lot. And when you can’t be the person they ask you to be, what the hell are you supposed to do?” His voice faltered, and Chayne could see tears spring up in his eyes, but he blinked them away. “You want to know why I don’t believe? Because believing in a god did nothing but make me feel like I was being watched. Constantly. Like everything I did would stain my soul if I did it wrong. It was hard enough measuring up to the expectations my parents put on me, I didn’t need some inscrutable cosmic being with conflicting instructions. Religion and tradition are supposed to bring peace – that’s how they market themselves – and all I’ve ever seen them bring is shame.”

Chayne sat poised next to Robin, watching him. Robin stopped making eye contact at some point during his rant and was glaring at the floor, as if he could still see his church through it. After several long seconds of silence, Chayne sighed.

“I fear I will have to meditate on my words, lest I worsen this argument.” His tone was even and gentle, but there was an undercurrent of sternness. “However, I do wish to make my point clear: do not associate myself and Hassian with a group of people who hurt you ten thousand years ago.”

Robin blinked with surprise and sneered, but Chayne continued before he could say anything.

“Tradition, and its adherence, is a very meaningful experience for us. I understand your objections to its misuse, but ultimately, misuse is not its only result. For those of us who wish to practice, that practice is a spiritual experience, and to be candid, your dismissal of it as inherently harmful is disrespectful.”

Pink slowly began to creep up Robin’s face as his sneer faded.

Chayne closed his eyes for a moment. “I will not be able to say more at this time. I do not wish to invalidate your pain or ignore your concerns, and I worry my words may be careless. For now, I ask that you leave me be.”

Robin started to say something, but stopped, and after a moment, he stood and left the apothecary, his cheeks burning. Chayne watched him go, then closed his eyes and focused himself, allowing the hurt in his heart to calm.

Chapter Text

Later that night, Robin was making his way home when Chayne called to him on the path. Robin’s face turned pink as guilt twisted in his gut, but he stopped and let the sage join him.

The sage’s brows were still furrowed. “I have taken some time to ponder our conversation. I hope I will be able to make myself clear.”

“Yeah.” Robin stared at the ground. “I’m sorry, Chayne. I’m so used to traditions and religions being used as a limiter, it’s kind of hard to imagine them as anything else.”

Chayne inclined his head. “It can be interpreted that way. I realized after you left that your main encounter with our traditions is our Paths. In particular, you are very aware of how Reth’s departure from his has affected him. For the vast majority of Majiri, one’s Path is not just a career; it is a spiritual calling. Fulfillment of it brings peace and purpose to one’s life. I will admit, there are exceptions. Personally, I do not judge Reth for his decisions, and I do not believe anyone else should, either. I understand your objections to his case.

“However, that does not mean that Paths are, or should be, meaningless. The idea of a Path gives guidance and purpose. Mine is a sacred duty: to look after those in this valley and care for their wellbeing, both spiritual and physical. Hassian is likewise inclined, taking on the responsibility that has been given to him by those who came before. I, and many others, find it incredibly meaningful. Our tradition is flawed, but it is not broken. And ultimately, seeing flaws and dismissing the whole practice is disrespectful, especially for a practice you are not a part of.”

Robin reached up to idly scratch at his jaw. He still kept his eyes down.

Chayne started to reach out to touch his shoulder, but decided against it. “In any case, I’d like to return to the matter that began this discussion: your courtship with Hassian.”

Robin frowned. “Oh. Shit. I honestly forgot that’s what started this. Yeah…” He sighed. “I mean, it’s one thing to let you guys do your thing, but I don’t know if I want to participate. I don’t think I’ll find much meaning there.”

Chayne smiled. “Perhaps not. But Hassian does. He holds these practices dearly, and it is no surprise to me that he would want your relationship to follow those lines. It is your choice, of course. You do not have to follow our ways. But bear in mind that this will likely mean the end of your flirtation with him. Not because you’ve done something wrong, but because the two of you would have fundamentally different ideas of how the relationship would function.” He hesitated. “More than anything though, I truly hope you will at least refrain from associating him, or myself, with the pain you have faced in the past. Our observance of our own traditions is not comparable to the misuse of yours.”

Robin nodded, keeping his eyes down. “I’m sorry for how I talked. I shouldn’t have dismissed you like that.”

“I accept your apology.” Chayne stroked his beard thoughtfully. “But I am curious what human traditions have become so objectionable to you.”

Robin snorted. “I mean, none that I really want to mention. I hope most of them rotted away with my people. They have no place here.”

Chayne hadn’t interacted with the human much, but he was used to Robin being timid and gentle. This was the same venom and righteous indignation he’d had when he was talking in the apothecary. The same bitter grudge, held somewhere deep in his heart.

“You’ve held Reth’s position, I see.” Chayne smiled. “You went against the ways of your kind, and you faced the consequences for it. It is admirable how ready you are to defend him. From what I’ve heard, he could use some positive influences in his life.”

Author’s note: This part is brought to you by my therapist finger guns

Robin was waiting out by the pond again. Tau ran up to greet him, sniffing at something he was hiding in his pocket. Robin shooed him away from it, flushing. Hassian came to join them.

“I wanted to talk.”

“I thought as much.”

“Chayne said you wanted to stick to something more traditional, and that’s why you’ve been fussing lately.”

“I haven’t been fussing. And yes. I want to do this right.”

Robin smiled at the ground. “That’s sweet and all, but you really should’ve discussed it with me first. You had a good opportunity to bring it up when I visited. At the very least, if this was an expectation of yours, you should’ve told me. You spooked me when you kicked me out of the grove. I thought I’d done something to hurt you.”

Hassian inclined his head. “I apologize for the misunderstanding. Is that all?”

“Not really.” Robin pulled a flower out of his pocket. It was a deep blue, almost black, but it still glowed softly. Hassian was reminded of the last time Robin had offered a flower in the twilight, but Robin was more confident this time around. His eyes met Hassian’s easily, and though his cheeks turned pink, he held himself up proudly.

“Does this mean you accept my affections?”

“On one condition.” Robin didn’t extend the flower yet. “I’ll follow Majiri ways by default, but I reserve the right to raise an objection if I come across one I don’t want to follow.”

Hassian frowned. “I don’t understand.”

Robin took a deep breath. “Listen, Hassian, I don’t know all the details about how this is going to work. One book in a library doesn’t prepare me for everything. If I were a less careful man, I’d tell you I’ll do things your way. But I don’t make promises I may be unwilling to fulfill, and just saying I’ll do this suggests I’ll do it no matter what, and I can’t promise that. I don’t follow anything blindly. I’ll follow your lead, but with the understanding that if we hit a particular tradition I find unsavory, that will be its own discussion. If, in the future, I tell you I don’t want to do something, please, just… listen to my concern. That’s all I ask.” He held out the flower.

Hassian hesitated. This hadn’t really been something he expected. He wondered if he would be willing to pull away from the traditions he’d grown up with, if the time came that Robin asked him to. But he also recognized Robin’s words as a compromise. Robin had his own rules, and he couldn’t expect the human to give them up completely, any more than Robin could ask him to give up the ways of his people. Besides, all he was promising was to hear Robin out if there was a concern. Whatever happened, whatever came up, they could handle it.

He accepted the flower. “I know it may seem odd for me to stay so close to tradition. I don’t know how humans court, and even some Majiri have stopped following our traditions. But you matter too much to me to let such important things slip. If we are to be together, I want no one, land or sky, to oppose our union. Perhaps you think me strange, or rigid, but you have shown you will accept that part of me as well.”

“I didn’t think it was strange. Maybe a bit dramatic, but frankly, I prefer dramatic to flippant.” Robin smiled. “This is going to be a bit new for me, but I want to take it seriously too. You deserve that much. Although I do think ‘union’ is a bit much this early on. We’re not getting married, are we?”

“No, but I do hope… something like this can lead to a marriage. One day. And I want to make sure it can lead there.”

“I see.” Robin’s smile was so gentle in the soft light of morning. “Next time… please tell me what you’re doing. Don’t let me guess. I shouldn’t have had to talk to Chayne about what you were thinking. I… genuinely got a bit scared when I didn’t know what you wanted from me.”

Hassian’s heart twinged with guilt. “I’m sorry.”

Robin wiped sweat off his palm. “If we’re doing this the right way, I should probably do the citizenship thing, huh?”

“That would be best. If you wish to call this place home, the citizenship test will allow you to be fully accepted.”

“I don’t know about that.” Robin looked out over the pond. “I mean… acceptance is more complicated than just some test.”

Hassian noticed Robin’s finger anxiously tapping at the side of his leg. “Are you afraid?”

“A little. I, uh… didn’t ask Eshe what exactly the tests were. I don’t know how hard they’ll be.”

Hassian snorted. “I handled them when I was a child. I doubt even you would find them challenging.”

Robin chuckled quietly.

Chapter Text

The sound reverberated through the bay. A tremendous crashing of stone on stone, a terrible din of collapsing rubble.

Robin, who’d been fishing at the beach, came jogging up the path to see a very odd scene. A stone bluff not far from Hodari’s house had collapsed in a landslide, turning a sharp cliff into a sloped hill. At the bottom of the slide, a magenta-faced Hodari was lecturing his daughter Najuma, who stood unrepentant.

“...not like I can stop you from playing with those, but when a stranger’s around?! I trust you to be safe. I do not trust Kenyatta to know what she’s doing!”

“I kept her safe!” Najuma raised her voice. “She didn’t even get hurt. She was clear. I was careful!”

“If you want to teach her mining, teach her to use a damn pickaxe! Not nitroglycerine!”

“Don’t yell at her! She was just trying to help me!” Kenyatta’s voice came from behind the two of them.

Hodari whirled. “Don’t you start! I turned you down for good reason-”

“Okay, okay, that’s enough yelling,” Robin interrupted.

Kenyatta poked her head around Hodari. Her hair was disheveled, her eyes wide. “Robin! Have you seen my medicine bag anywhere? I swear I had it!”

Hodari sighed. “I can grab some stuff from the house-”

“You won’t have what I need. My bag has a sealant that can’t be used on Majiri, it’s only used for furred animals. Robin, it’s probably near the pond, by Hideaway…”

“On it!” Robin jogged off. “Hi, Hassian!”

None of the others had noticed Hassian approach. “What happened?”

“Kenyatta wanted to try out mining, and I wanted to help her…” Najuma started to explain, but Hodari interjected.

“Najuma decided to have Kenyatta help her test some explosives.” He gestured at the landslide.

Hassian raised an eyebrow. “Giving explosive material to someone who is rarely outside?”

“Hey! It’s not my fault my mom makes me work at the desk! Trust me, I’d spend a lot more time outside if I could!”

“All the same.” Hassian moved around Hodari. “Are you hurt?”

Kenyatta was kneeling at the base of the landslide, holding on to the leg of a sernuk fawn. The fawn was terrified to silence, rolling its eyes wildly at all the Majiri around it. The leg in Kenyatta’s hands was bloody, and probably broken, and Kenyatta was carefully splinting it with a stick. Despite her own fear, her hands were steady and gentle. Even as she shouted at Hodari, she was also gently stroking the back end of the fawn, soothing it without reaching for the head, which she knew would terrify it.

Hassian and Kenyatta rarely talked. Whenever Hassian came to City Hall, Kenyatta turned her nose up at him. She was dating a farmer, so Hassian doubted she thought she was above him, but she clearly didn’t approve of his profession. He, in turn, didn’t think much of hers. This was the furthest from town he’d ever seen her, and the most outdoorsy thing he’d ever seen her do. He bent down next to her.

“Hassian, you know about this kind of stuff, right? Can you help her?”

Hassian shook his head. “I doubt I know as much as you about healing.”

Kenyatta huffed. “You’re no help.”

Robin came puffing back, holding the medicine bag. Kenyatta grabbed it from him and set to work, gently spreading the sealant onto the wound with a gloved hand.

“It’s hard to get stitches into an animal, and even harder to keep them from scratching the stitches off. This stuff typically goes on without a problem, and once the wound’s healed, it’ll come off just fine. But yeah, not safe for our skin.” Kenyatta had calmed down with the bag in hand. Hodari and Najuma had a temporary truce, but their glares indicated this argument would resume later.

Najuma crouched by the sernuk. “You have a whole medicine bag just to help the animals?”

“I mean, yeah,” Kenyatta replied, frowning. “Things happen sometimes. I had to get some burrs out of Tau’s paw a few days ago. Look, Hodari, I’m really sorry about the rocks. I didn’t mean for it to happen.”

Hodari sighed. “S’not your fault. It happens. Rocks ain’t always predictable. I’m glad you’re both okay.”

“What were you doing with explosives, anyways?” Robin surveyed the new slope with his hand shielding his eyes from the sun. “I thought I got you a pickaxe.”

“You did what?” Hodari turned on him. “This was your idea?”

“Using explosives? No. Kenyatta said she wanted to try mining, so I got her a pickaxe.”

Kenyatta wrapped a bandage around the fawn’s leg. “I thought it could be my Path…”

“I thought your Path was governance,” Hassian commented.

“And end up like my mom? Fat chance.”

Hassian frowned but kept his thoughts to himself.

“I mean, I think healing’s probably a better Path than mining…” Najuma looked sheepish. “I wouldn’t have tried to show you mining if I knew you could do stuff like this.”

“It’s not that big a deal. I mean, it’s just stuff I picked up here and there. It’s not like this could be my Path.” Kenyatta hesitated. “Could it?”

“Well, yeah,” Najuma said, confused. “Why not? It’s as good a Path as any.”

Kenyatta sat back on her heels, caught by surprise. “I mean, I don’t really have a good reason why not. I guess I’m just used to not being able to do things I want to do.” She looked over the fawn. “I’ll need to keep an eye on her, but I can’t take her home. My mom would freak. Hey, Hassian, you spend your time with sernuk…”

Hassian nodded. “I’ll keep her in my grove overnight. You can check on her in the morning.”

“Thanks.” Kenyatta gently gathered the fawn in her arms and put her in Hassian’s. Surprisingly, the fawn relaxed a bit. Robin tilted his head. Either the fawn didn’t know what to do about being carried and had accepted her fate, or Hassian smelled enough like the forest that she didn’t register him as a Majiri. Hassian cradled her gently, being careful with her leg, and she leaned her head into his arm, panting.

God I wish that fawn was me.

The thought caught Robin off guard and made him flush.

Hassian nodded goodbye to Kenyatta. “I usually leave the grove at dawn. If you need to come in later than that, Robin has a key.”

Kenyatta made a face. “Dawn? Really?”

“The most desirable prey awakens at dawn.”

Robin grinned. “And as we all know, Hassian counts as prey.”

Hassian sighed in exasperation.

Kenyatta winked at Robin. “And I know you find him desirable.”

Robin’s face dropped and turned red. Hassian looked at Kenyatta in confusion. “...What?”

“We should get her to the grove.” Robin gently pushed Hassian’s shoulder, aiming him toward the grove. Hassian gave Kenyatta a parting nod and turned away, looking at Robin questioningly.

Hodari shook his head and also turned away, and Robin used the opportunity to get Najuma’s attention and jerk his head to the side. She joined him, and he pressed a bundle wrapped in leather into her hands. Her eyes widened and she grinned. “Thank you!” She whispered enthusiastically, and jogged off toward the workshop. Robin rejoined Hassian and they set off.

“What was that?”

“Some materials for a project.”

“I meant Kenyatta’s comment.”

Robin pursed his lips, reddening. “If you missed the joke, you might be better off not knowing.”

Hassian shook his head and refocused on the fawn in his arms. She was still looking around wildly, a lot less certain of her safety now that they were moving. All the same, she didn’t struggle, apparently comforted, or at least resigned.

“I was kind of surprised you wanted to help. Typically you hunt the sernuk. I didn’t think you cared much for helping them.”

Hassian brows furrowed. “Why not? I hunt them, yes. That makes them my responsibility.”

Robin blinked. “Those seem mutually exclusive.”

“They are not. But I do not expect you to understand.”

Chapter Text

I'm about halfway through the story that I've written so far, and we haven't hit some of the parts I was really hoping to post. Unfortunately, this is where the story gets a bit wonky.

When I first started writing, I quickly gave up on writing the scenes in order. I didn't think I'd ever have someone reading this; it was just a way to get some of my daydreams down so I could revisit them more easily and have a chance to flesh them out. I know there's probably a couple of plot holes I put in on accident, and that's because I wrote most of this completely out of order. A lot of later scenes were written much earlier, and a couple of these scenes are newer additions. It took a long time for me to get around to writing Sifuu's talk with Robin about the courtship, and I only really wrote that after I'd decided to post this, because I wanted to include it and never got around to it.

Anyway, all that is to say this is the point where the posting will be more sporadic, because I will want to make sure I've included scenes I wrote more recently in the proper order. It's less likely to be 10 chapters at a time, and more likely to be 1 or 2. Which means getting through the other 150-ish pages I've got so far (for reference, everything I've posted so far has been 152), as well as all the other scenes I want to write and include, is going to take a long time.

So if you're invested, I hope you're in it for the long haul, because some of the later scenes are going to (hopefully) be wonderful. I've got Robin getting drunk (which I think is a fanfic staple), some ballroom dancing, more poetry, the Little Boy Blue quest, and Robin developing a deeper friendship with Chayne and getting to learn more about Majiri religion. I've also got a few plot points that flesh out Robin and Hassian's respective feelings about non-sexual nudity, which I'm not sure if I'm going to include or not. As a reminder, there will be no smut in this story, so nudity will be completely non-sexual, if I decide to include it at all. And I'm taking my sweet time getting to the first kiss.

I'm really glad someone's reading this. It has been wild to write so far, and I hope it's also fun for you.

Chapter Text

Eshe sniffed. “About time. I was wondering if you were going to bother staying in the valley. That being said, citizenship is not something to take lightly. Are you sure you’re ready?”

Robin sighed. “As ready as I’m ever going to be. What’s the test?”

“There are three. You must prove your purpose, your generosity, and your devotion.” Eshe produced a notepad and a pair of pince-nez out of nowhere. “I am willing to consider your purpose proven already. That test is simply to build up a skill you can contribute, and from what I’ve heard, your fishing is more than adequate. To prove your generosity, you will need to give a number of gifts to your fellow villagers.”

Robin scratched at his jaw. “I mean, I’ve done that already.”

“That was before you accepted the tests. You will need to give five gifts that the villagers requested. I do not think you will find that difficult.” Eshe looked over the rim of her glasses. “The final test will involve seeking out three particular villagers. They are authorized to administer the tests of past, present, and future. You will be required to learn the ways of the Majiri. Jina will teach you about the past, Hassian will teach you about the present, and Chayne will teach you about the future.”

Robin blinked. “Hassian?”

“Yes, he is authorized to administer the test. There are a few others, but between you and me, Hassian is probably the most reliable.”

The corner of Robin’s lips twitched. “Who else?”

Eshe’s lip curled. “I believe Reth technically could, but only because I am unable to revoke that authorization. Ashura is also authorized, but I worry he will go too soft on you.” She looked over at Robin. “Hassian will not compromise simply because you are close to him.”

“Fair enough.” Robin sighed. “I guess I’ll ask him first, then.”

Eshe shook her head. “You will begin with Jina. Now, off you go.”

Robin came to join Hassian on the grass. “Apparently you’re the person who’s testing me on the present.”

“You spoke to Eshe about the Virtues?”

Robin nodded. “And I finished Jina’s this morning, so yours is next. I also brought this.” He took out a chunk of iron ore.

“I appreciate it. Now, the present. You will need to plant five trees on your plot. Not fruit trees, they need to be wild trees. You will source the seeds yourself.”

Robin frowned. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“It wouldn’t be a test if I gave you all the answers. I can give you a hint about where to get the seeds.”

“No, I figured that much out. Is that the answer? That everything happens in cycles, and one thing has to end before another begins?”

Hassian inclined his head. “Not quite, but close. Plant those seeds and speak with me tomorrow about it.”

Robin shrugged and returned to his sketchbook. He’d begun a drawing the other day of some animal or other that he couldn’t quite name yet. He doodled some possible tails, but couldn’t make any of them fit right.

Chapter Text

Robin sat with a cup of water, watching the little acorn inside. As he’d suspected, it began to crack and sprout much, much faster than he was used to plants growing. His garden had done the same thing.

“Is this what you were trying to show me?” He muttered. “No, the test is meant for Majiri, too. They would already know shit grows fast.”

Shrugging, he tipped the cup of water and its newly germinated acorn into a little hole he’d dug in the ground. Gently, he scooped dirt over it, patting the soil down. He poured a bit more water and sat, watching.

“Hassian, what are you trying to tell me?”

It only took a little while for the first tiny bit of green to appear. Robin tilted his head. “Is something supposed to happen? Will the grown tree reveal a secret? No, that doesn’t make sense. Once it’s grown, this little tree can’t tell me anything a wild one couldn’t. Once it grows up, this tree won’t be any different than the one it came from.” He looked down at the other seeds he had yet to plant. “I mean, I can just English-teacher this. There’s lots of things a growing tree can symbolize. Maybe if I come up with something suitably poetic, that’ll convince him I know what I’m talking about. The question is whether I actually know what I’m talking about.”

He suddenly realized there was no one else on the plot, which meant he was talking to a sprouting acorn. He shrugged and continued.

“Hassian is the one who can give the lesson. Either him or Ashura. Or Reth, but I kind of agree with Eshe on whether he’d do a good job. Hassian and Ashura… what would they be trying to teach me?

“Hassian can waffle about damn near anything, I think. Given he’s a conservationist, this could mean a lot of things. Maybe something about how history repeats itself? Or about how everything must end, but that doesn’t mean the end of everything? Cycles and shit? Ashura would probably be more specific, but there’s still a few different things that man could teach me. Maybe something about how everything can become new? Like how a war veteran becomes a father and innkeeper? Or maybe something about always being willing to help others…”

Realization dawned, and he slapped the ground in frustration. “Oh, goddammit. This is something about contribution, isn’t it? I’m an idiot. That’s why Hassian wanted me to plant the seeds myself instead of just seeing them grow.” He sighed. “Alright, well, time to gussy up that idea so it’s suitably dramatic for him.”

Robin came to join Hassian on the grass. “My plot now has five new trees growing.”

“And? What have you learned?”

“That plants grow super fast.” Robin grinned as he settled in with his sketchbook.

Hassian sighed.

“At the same time, there’s still other trees on my plot. I didn’t plant them. In fact, I’ve been cutting them down. Someone before me planted those, and one day, the ones I planted will be cut down by someone else.”

Hassian smiled, a little proud. “I expected you’d understand. Go on.”

“Each time the trees are replanted, they’ll die again. When they die, they’ll need to be replanted. Which means if I keep taking their wood, it’s also my job to plant more, and keep them going. The one who cuts the trees is responsible for caring for the forest. And,” Robin inclined his head, “the hunter is responsible for the herds he preys upon.”

Hassian nodded in approval. “Precisely. You will likely never see the fruits of your labor. But if you do not plant those trees now, one day it will be too late. In living, we inherently take, and must give in return, lest those who come after us go without. I must look after the sernuk, ensuring they have a future, both for my own sake and for the sake of the hunters who follow, and you must look after the trees, so others who come will have a chance at their wood. Our present actions will matter for years to come. Do not forget that.” He looked up into the sky. “I will let Eshe know you have done your part.” He hesitated. “...You’ve done well.”

Robin blinked in surprise, then swelled with pride, grinning. He refocused on his sketchbook, his happiness at Hassian’s approval bringing a different memory to mind.

The way his father smiled when Robin shot his first rabbit.

Chapter Text

Robin entered the dragon shrine somewhat reluctantly. He was still a little nervous about talking to the sage. It was easier since he’d admitted why he felt apprehensive, but it was impossible to prevent the twist of unease.

The sage had just finished his duties at the shrine and was dusting off his knee. He looked up with a warm smile. “Robin! It is good to see you.”

Robin smiled in greeting. “Eshe sent me. Said to ask about the future.”

Chayne nodded soberly. “Ah, the eternal question. With only one answer, I’m afraid. All things come to it, although it need not be the end of your journey. I’m referring, of course, to death.”

Robin’s shoulders relaxed. “Oh. That’s it? I’m just learning how the Majiri see death?”

Chayne inclined his head. “An often uncomfortable subject, but a necessary one. Every Palian must come to terms with their mortality one way or another.”

Robin shrugged. “Honestly, my death was something I thought about a lot as a teenager, so it’s not as uncomfortable as maybe it should be.” He lowered himself to the grass and settled in, looking up expectantly. “Go on. What do I need to learn?”

Chayne raised his eyebrows, but joined Robin on the grass, sitting cross-legged with his hands in his lap. “Majiri do not view death as an ending, necessarily. It may be a continuation of a journey, the next step towards another end. When a Majiri dies, they cross the Veil into the Dragon’s realm, joining him. What happens after that point is unknown. Many of us believe we spend eternity with him, in a place where one’s cares are no more. Some believe we stop to meet those we have lost, and then proceed to another place, or even return to Palia as another person.”

Robin cocked his head. “So are the people who died before us just… hanging around? Waiting for someone to die before they move on?”

Chayne chuckled. “Perhaps. Perhaps one does not leave that realm until all who knew them have passed as well. But then, perhaps the Dragon – and by extension, his realm – are not bound by time as we are. Perhaps all who know and care for one another are brought to one place, one time, regardless of when they passed. One reunion, unmoored from our timeline, before they move on.”

Robin squeezed his eyes shut. “That’s going to give me a headache if I think about it for too long.”

“These are not light or easy matters to understand. Ultimately, death and what happens beyond it are outside of our world, and all we can do is confront how it is presented to us.” Chayne produced a small set of candles. “I ask you now to visit the Remembrance Garden, by the lake, to pay your respects. I trust you know the way?”

Robin accepted the candles and pushed himself to his feet. “Yeah. I’ll be back.”

“I am finished here. Find me in the apothecary.”

Chapter Text

Robin walked into the Garden, holding the candles. He paused to look around.

The Garden was composed of two paths, forming rough concentric rings around the center. Another path went from the entrance through each ring, hitting the altar at the very center. Each ring path was lined with stone pillars, about as tall as Robin’s shoulders. Some were intricately carved, some were left more plain. Some were gathered in small clusters, a few more stood alone. Each pillar had a name carved into it, and an epitaph. The clusters were families of the same last name. A few of the families had little statues, especially the big families. Robin didn’t know if the statues were decorative or had some meaning. He made a mental note to ask, but knew he would likely forget.

He took some time to wander the paths, reading epitaphs at random. The garden was remarkably quiet. Still, he heard a bird overhead, and the grass refused to avoid the memorial stones and grew bright and green against the grey. Robin smiled. Nature wasn’t known for respecting the dead. In a way, this place belonged to the land, if only because the living Majiri wouldn’t disrespect it while the natural world refused to respect it. Robin liked graveyards. They were a great place to accept one’s death, a stone on the ground surrounded by things that didn’t care about the loss. Besides, living folk tend to be a lot quieter around the dead.

He stopped by one stone in particular.

Sabine Otoro
Life is a constant adventure

Robin sat down on the stone path by the memorial. Sabine was Ashura’s wife, and the reason Robin had come to the Garden the first time. He’d brought flowers for her when Ashura was a bit busy, to pay respects to the family of a man who meant a lot to him. Robin didn’t believe in an afterlife, or in ghosts. He didn’t believe she was still there. But he still felt gross if he disrespected a place like this. Ghosts have no power, but graves are powerful indeed, and he was not immune.

He sat for a moment, just to be quiet for a bit. It was usually hard to sit still. Typically he was only still when something was very wrong. But for now, in the stillness of the Garden, he sat in peace.

“Maybe this is how it’ll work.”

His voice was quiet. He looked up at Sabine’s stone. He didn’t believe in afterlives, or the lingering dead, but he still followed grave conventions. Not out of belief, but out of respect. He refrained from making a mess at the shrine for the same reason. He didn’t care if Maji objected, but even back when he didn’t know or trust Chayne, he still didn’t want to mess with the sage out of cruelty. Even the Virtues mostly asked him to play a part, to support others and look after the community, and those were already things he wanted to do. Why did he draw the line at Hassian? Why was the idea of following courtship so gross to him, when he didn’t have a problem with the other guidelines he’d been given? Majiri didn’t even really have the courtship stuff humans had. Human courtship tended to be demeaning, especially to women, treating marriage as the ultimate prize instead of a union. He didn’t just want to earn Hassian; he wanted to build a life with him, and traditional Majiri relationships seemed to do that just fine. If Hassian was going to ask for things like midnight lilies and archaic rules, why was that such a difficult thing to accept? Robin didn’t see the point, but he also didn’t really see the point in leaving flowers in a graveyard, and he did that just fine for the sake of someone he cared about.

He wanted to make Hassian happy. And if this was the way, then he would take it.

Pushing himself up off the ground, he bowed his head briefly to Sabine. Turning away, he walked to the center of the Garden, to an altar practically covered in piles of melted wax. Hesitantly, he perched his candles on the piles and lit them, watching them burn for a while before turning to leave the Garden. As he passed the stone of Sabine, he thought he heard a woman chuckle, but he didn’t look around. Must’ve been the wind.

Chapter Text

“What did you think?”

Robin tilted his head. “It was very quiet. Not necessarily… a bad experience. Just a quiet one.”

Chayne smiled. “It can be quite peaceful there. It is a good place to reflect. On those we’ve lost… and on those who still remain.” He inclined his head to Robin. “I will let Eshe know you have done your part. I am curious, though, if you will indulge me… I know you are not a spiritual man. Do you believe in an afterlife?”

Robin snorted quietly. “Nope.”

“What do you think happens?”

“We stop.” Robin folded his arms and leaned against the wall of the apothecary. “We fade, we end, we don’t exist. We’re gone for good.”

“Nothing else?”

“Nope.”

Chayne stroked his beard thoughtfully. “Seems a dismal outlook.”

“Yeah, maybe. I like the thought, though. On an individual level, sure, it’s pretty sad to think that you won’t exist. But on a larger level, it seems pretty selfish to think I’m so important that I deserve to last forever. Nothing else does. Does a tree have a soul? If not, then why am I more important than a tree? And if so, then the logistics of an afterlife sound like a nightmare. It makes more sense to me that I just kind of… cease.” Robin shrugged. “I’ll admit I’m biased. The thought of lasting forever makes me nervous. What the hell am I supposed to do with eternity? If anything, the idea of being reincarnated would be better than the idea of an afterlife.”

“That is an interesting idea. But I do not see why that is biased.”

“I don’t have any evidence or anything. It’s not based on logic. I believe what I want to believe.”

“Do you think it is possible to have evidence of an afterlife?”

“I suppose not…”

Chayne smiled. “Then perhaps believing because you want to believe is enough.”

Robin tilted his head, thinking. “May I ask you something?”

“Go ahead.”

“Why do you believe in Maji?”

“Because he gives me a sense of purpose.”

Robin relaxed and nodded. “I guess, in a way, I took that sense of purpose too far. The expectations my belief put on me felt restrictive, and they put more pressure on me than I could handle.”

“I see.”

“So, everything you do, watching the moons, looking after the shrine… you don’t really… hear him? Or see him?”

“Not really, no. I see him, in a way, in his works. I do not see him, exactly, but I see what he does for us.”

“And that’s enough for you?”

“Sometimes, it is difficult to keep the faith when no one has spoken to the Dragon in thousands of years. Even for me. When I was a new initiate, no matter how many texts I studied or nights I spent observing the moon, my devotion wavered. So I traveled to the Wellspring, where he used to converse with us Majiri, to see the answer for myself. Its waters were silent. It gave me no answers. I realized then that I alone had to determine how I would walk my Path, and I chose to believe there was something in store for my future. Because I knew in the end, whether the Dragon spoke directly to me or not, it would still be my duty to care and provide for others.”

Robin sat thoughtfully on the bench. “You believe because you choose to.”

Chayne smiled. “Do you think my belief is false?”

“Not at all. I disbelieve because I choose to disbelieve, and to a certain extent I think everyone secretly does the same, although I know I can’t assert that confidently. I’ve just never heard a believer say it out loud before.”

“Sometimes the reasons we believe things aren’t because we know them to be true. Sometimes we believe what we wish, or what we must. My belief in the Dragon has been a comfort and a source of direction, and that is more important to me than being correct.”

“Same. Kind of. I stopped believing because a lot of religious figures I knew used God to order people around and impose their own expectations on us. Letting go of that belief helped me let go of what other people thought of me and helped me find my own way to do things.” Robin scratched his chin idly. “I should know better than to think my experience is universal. It can be a little hard to understand why something that hurt me kinda bad also helped other people, but now that I say it out loud, I’m realizing how childish that is.”

“It is a little narrow-minded. But then, if I resemble others who have hurt you, I can understand your apprehension around me. The trick is to not let your past ruin your chance at a good friendship in the future.”

“Like you.”

Chayne chuckled. “Like me, but I am not the only one who believes in this village. I was thinking more about your relationship with Hassian, or your friendship with Ashura. They both believe in the Dragon, and his work. Distancing yourself from all belief would require distancing yourself from them, too.”

“Probably. And it would kind of shut me off to how a lot of people think. But at the same time, I need to keep my distance sometimes. I can’t just ignore the way religion made me feel for so long.”

“No, you cannot. Nor should you. Your pain may always be a part of you. But do not let it consume you. You must find the balance, for your sake and for the sake of those around you.”

Robin took a deep breath and nodded. “Thanks, Chayne.”

“You are welcome, child. I am here if you need me.”

Chapter Text

“Hey, are we at pet names yet?”

Hassian jerked his head up. “What do you mean?”

Robin grinned. “Are we at the stage where we call each other pet names? I think if you call me babe, I might punch you, but I’d be open to others.” He felt his cheeks heat up.

Hassian sighed. “I do not believe in pet names. There is no need for a cheesy moniker.”

“Oh c’mon, you’re no fun.” Robin raised his sketchbook to hide the fact that he was watching Hassian for a reaction. “I was thinking I could start calling you ‘cutie’. At least in public.”

Hassian sneered. “If you call me that in front of my mother, I’ll never live it down. Is that your aim? To humiliate me?”

“I mean, if you’re that upset about a public pet name, then no, but I still wanna call you something.”

“Like what?”

Robin cast his eyes down and his cheeks turned bright red. “Best beloved.”

Silence. He glanced up. Hassian’s face was also changing color. “Oh.”

He backpedaled hurriedly. “Okay, yeah, that might be a bit much. I mean, I don’t know how close we are, and I don’t want to get too intense if it’ll make you uncomfortable-”

“No.”

Robin shut up, looking at Hassian sheepishly. Hassian cleared his throat. “I… wouldn’t mind that. As a pet name. Although it does mean I’ll have to come up with something suitable as well.”

Robin smiled bashfully. “Just don’t call me sugar and we’re good.”

“What would you want me to call you?”

Robin hesitated, then met Hassian’s gaze. “I’ll let you come up with something. Honestly, you could call me a lot of things and I’d thank you for it.”

Hassian raised an eyebrow and looked down. “I’ll think of something,” he muttered.