Chapter Text
He could hear yelling outside of his room. They weren’t standing right beyond his door or anything, likely down the hall and in their fifth living room where they usually had their “parent discussions” away from their kids, as if all of them couldn’t hear. Not that it mattered, really, to any of his other siblings. None of his siblings were ever the topic of an argument. Well, aside from maybe Twain on occasion.
But, no, every time, the topic of discussion– or, rather, argument– was Occtis himself. No matter what he had done, what he tried, he was the disappointment.
It wasn’t every night that this happened, but it happened frequently where Occtis would lay in bed, overhearing the shouting match his parents decided to have, hearing his name be passed around openly and without a moment’s pause.
He didn’t even know what he had done this time to cause this, so likely, as with around half of the arguments, it was simply the fact that he had done nothing at all. He was the youngest, the one without the innate spellcasting ability that his sorcerous family all shared. He didn’t have the bold nature that most of his siblings stood with, nor the top-marks smarts that the others had. Sure, he was a quick learner and reader was a favorite past time, but top marks? No, that was out of the question, too, because why would he be able to achieve that?
On some nights, he could block the shouting out until they finished up their quarrel. Others, he curled himself into a ball and ended up sleeping on a tear-stained pillow.
Occtis hated it. He wished he could change it. He wished he could end his parents' constant judgement of his performances, because it only made things worse in the moment and made him feel more terrible after. Instead, he was left struggling, stuttering, and falling over himself, only continuing to ruin his parents’ expectations of him.
Tonight felt especially difficult. He had a harder than normal day, and had been on the verge of tears since around midday. In his sheets, he tightened his fists, briefly considering bringing out a book to read, but Occtis really didn’t think he’d be able to focus on reading with his parents’ voices as loud as they were.
A small poof and Occtis peered up to find a small foxish tongue coming down to lick at his cheeks. “Pin,” he hissed, trying to keep himself quiet and unheard, “you can’t be here, if they see you…” he trailed off at his own thought popping into his head.
Pin’s head tilted to the side, button eyes unblinking.
As quietly as he could, Occtis pushed himself up and out of bed. “C’mon, how… how about you go for a run, hm?” He slid his window open, wincing slightly at the faint creak it made with the motion.
Pin whimpered faintly, and Occtis was quick to raise a finger to his lips. “Go, please. I- I don’t want to be here right now.”
The fox seemed to understand that, his tail sweeping to the side in a brief wag, before he hopped up to the windowsill and jumped through, into the night.
With Pin out, Occtis got back into bed, still hyper-aware of the voices outside. He let himself close his eyes– just in case, he wouldn’t want his parents or, more realistically, one of the servants, coming in to find him staring blankly upwards and utterly unresponsive– before he let himself slip away.
The voices of his shouting parents disappeared and in their place came to be the sights and smells of the outside world. By this point, Pin had gotten close to the outskirts of Dol-Makjar, the scent of the forest becoming clearer and clearer with each quick step.
This… this was a good idea, he’d have to try this more often, Occtis realized. It’d be a bit of a risk, not knowing what his surroundings back in the Tachonis home were, but it was one he would be willing to take. And, like this, Occtis finally got his first idea of what it was like to be free.