#essek adjusting to a new life

[callioope]

The fire crackles in the hearth, just feet away from Essek and yet distant in his mind as he scans the papers splayed out across the coffee table. Somewhere in that background land, a spoon clinks against ceramic. The familiar scent of hot cocoa wafts in the air around him. Footsteps, both human and feline, pad across wooden floorboards and braided rugs. 

Essek shuffles the papers, brow furrowing and finger tapping his chin. “We’re missing something,” he murmurs. 

A mug settles before him in a small patch of bare coffee table, thudding softly against the wood, and the scent of chocolate wafts closer. He doesn’t reach for it yet, but the motion draws his attention towards the nearest papers and he pulls them closer, skimming once more the notes of the smartest mind he’s ever known besides his own. 

“Take a break,” Caleb says, near his ear. Essek wrinkles his nose as the breath tickles his ear, jingling his earrings. 

“We are this close—” Essek protests.

Caleb reaches for the quill from Essek’s fingers. “You haven’t written anything in twenty-seven minutes. Take a break.”

With a huff, Essek pulls his hand away before Caleb can steal the quill. “I am about to,” he protests, putting the quill to the last paper he’d been looking at. A small dot bleeds into a larger spot as he places the quill but doesn’t move it further. His mind stalls at Caleb’s proximity — yes, that’s the reason. Certainly not that he is stumped. No.

“Come, dear, before the cocoa is cold.”

Essek tuts. “Hardly a concern in this household.”

Caleb merely hums, and Essek hears him sip his own hot cocoa. “Mmm,” he adds, to which Essek snorts in response.

But five minutes later, the pages hold no answers — just endless runes, numbers, and letters, rambling musings that circle around the problem but don’t strike at the heart of it. Essek twitches his fingers in the start of somatics, but they fizzle without intent and without the finishing gestures. 

“It is practically easier than a cantrip,” he says, dropping his fist heavily against the table, which rattles the mug. One of the cats glares up at him from her spot by the fire place, her green eye resentful for the disturbance. 

“For you, maybe. We all have our special tricks.” He takes out a polished stone and sets it down on a pile of papers, just as the unnerved cat leaps up from her place on the floor and darts past, rustling the papers before Essek. “I can’t say I could distill this into a spell that any wizard could replicate. And other transmuters know this trick. The same cannot be said for yours.”

“Precisely the problem,” Essek says, resting his elbow on the coffee table and settling his chin into his palm. Entirely uncouth behavior, he thinks idly. Nothing he ever could have done in the parlor growing up. In fact he never used to noodle over problems like this — or use the word ‘noodle’. No, in the before times, the century plus that stretched out before he met the Nein, he properly pondered problems in his meticulous, organized lab. Oh great, now he was alliterating in his own internal monologue.

With a sigh, he sets down his quill and fingers the amber stone dangling from his right ear. “I invented the ability in the first place. I should know how to make it a spell.”

He stands suddenly enough that Caleb jerks in surprise. “Where are you going?” 

“To organize spell components,” he says, maybe a bit haughtily, gathering up the papers to take them to their shared office. He tuts as he enters it, for the first time noting how small the space is compared to the office in his towers, and this new one is shared by two. He knew some lower staff at the Bastion shared office space like this, but he never had. 

He putters around their filing drawers for components, reorganizes his desk while harboring restraint at the urge to organize Caleb’s, and debates the merits of a new cataloging system for the bookshelf.

He has no idea how much time has passed before Caleb tugs him back down to the ground from his float to reach the top shelf, where he was sure he’d stowed his original developmental notes on defying gravity. 

“Liebling,” Caleb pleads, again nuzzling Essek’s ear so that it twitches in response. “Your cocoa is getting cold.”

With a sigh, Essek relents, allowing Caleb to pull him back into the living room. This space is small, too, but that’s not usually the word he thinks when he settles into the threadbare sofa and drapes the quilt over his legs. Cozy is the right word, he reminds himself. And whenever the shared office feels claustrophobic, he must remember that the other mind that uses it frequently expands the ideas of his own. 

He rubs his face, only now noticing the ache in his eyes from reading too many words without blinking. Caleb settles in next to him on the sofa and elbows him to hand him the cocoa, reheated with a signature fire cantrip. 

Essek takes a sip, savors the richness of the cocoa, the steam that fills his head and spreads out to the tips of his ears, and the burn at the back of his throat.

“Oh!” he exclaims, the taste of the whiskey bringing him back to an entirely different time.

“Surprise,” Caleb says.

“This will not help me think,” Essek says, wrinkling his nose but then taking another sip. It reminds him of trust, and friendship, and reunions in a lonely, cold place. But also it reminds him of great feats of magic.

“We altered the fabric of time to rejuvenate our resources,” he says, practically whining. Compeletely unacceptable back home.  “Why can we not create a simple first level spell?”

“Do you ever find writing a one page essay more challenging than a ten page term paper?” Caleb asks, as if posing a philosophical question to his class. Essek huffs. “Well, my students complain of it often.”

“I am not so young and inexperienced as them,” Essek says. 

“And you do not have the deadlines they have, either,” Caleb retorts. “The problem will be there in the morning.”

Essek leans his head against the back of the sofa and stares up at the wooden rafters. “We are on the cusp of breakthrough,” he says. “Is that not what you said to me last week? Hmm?”

Caleb turns and rests his elbow on the back of the sofa, leaning sideways to look at Essek straight on, although Essek does not turn to meet his gaze. “I believe a wise old man talked some sense into me at the time.”

“Impertinent youth.”

With a chuckle, Caleb nudges Essek’s shoulder. “How is the cocoa?”

“Delicious, of course. Did you use Caduceus’ blend? It tastes like—Oh!”

The memories of Aeor jolt something in Essek’s brain, discoveries they had made in the depths there. He reaches for the quill, and his spellbook, and spare parchment, this time sweeping the quill across the paper in flurried strokes as his other hand flips through pages to find his notes from their travels. 

Caleb leans over to read his writing and point out a discrepancy in an equation jotted down too quickly. “I think, though, that you are on to something…” 

He stands and disappears into the office, bringing back several tomes brought back from the ruins. Essek quickly finishes the cocoa as they flip through pages and refine their notes until they coalesce more or less into something resembling a spell.

When several papers spill out onto the floor, Caleb says, “You know, next time I will just summon the tower, we’d have more space, maybe a chalkboard—”

“No,” Essek says, writing the last line of runes and setting down his quill. He stares at it for a moment, the piles of paper sprawled out across the coffee table, the cats curled up in front of the hearth, the mismatched furniture taking up most of the space in the room so that Essek and Caleb have to squeeze into narrow space between the couch and table. He breathes in the smell of cocoa and the hearth. He looks to the dark window where snow accumulates atop the green bean planters. He looks at Caleb’s shining blue eyes, the excitement of crafting a new spell bright with them. 

Essek reaches out to touch Caleb’s forearm. “I would love nothing more than to be here with you.”

With a wide grin, Caleb takes Essek’s face in his hands, and kisses him.

[utilitycaster]

I think of this tweet when I think of the Mighty Nein:

If you are not familiar with Everything Everywhere All At Once, it's...quite a lot to describe, but in the real world, these two people are married, with a modest and at times frustrating life, and Evelyn (Michelle Yeoh) in particular feels she's something of a failure, and is often frustrated with her optimistic husband, Waymond (Ke Huy Quan). The movie explores alternate universes, and these images are from one in which they never married and emigrated to the United States and opened up a laundromat, but instead, she became a martial arts action movie star, and he became a wealthy businessman. They reconnect at her film premier and discuss their regrets, but when she turns him down again, he tells her "So, even though you have broken my heart yet again, I wanted to say, in another life, I would have really liked just doing laundry and taxes with you."

In other words, that tweet misses the point to an extent that is almost difficult to believe...and so to I feel does the belief that the Mighty Nein should have become more famous, or that their story now isn't a happy one.

The Mighty Nein are unique among the parties in that they are all, relatively speaking, young, and profoundly mortal. There's no Keyleth, or Laudna, or Fearne, or FCG here. Of the PCs, Caduceus is the only one who will see past 200, and he's by design steeped in the concept of mortality. They get this life and that's it.

So yes, Beau is having some bumps in the road adjusting to her first real job. Veth is anxious about starting a new business venture, and much of her late campaign arc was about her worries about the drastic changes she'd led her family into. Fjord and Jester don't know how to react to having a home of their own, even a tiny one. Caleb is dealing with the achingly slow bureaucracies of academia. And Fjord, Jester, and Caleb (and, offscreen, Essek) are all tentatively navigating their first or one of their first romantic relationships as an adult. And it's rocky, and weird, and full of banalities and nosy neighbors and smart-mouthed crew members and irritated tenured professors and demanding librarians.

And laundry, and taxes.

It's real in a way the glittery fame isn't, and despite it all, they're happier for it.

[sldlovescartoons]

I’m just going to put this out there because I was going to write a proper fic but it’s look like that’s not going to work out so I just want to ramble about some ideas for a bit. For the purposes of this little post, I’m just sort ignoring anything that has happened in campaign 3 and things attached to the plot line, mostly becayse we don’t know where going to happen in the end yet. All things said here just sort of assume none of that all happens. Just in case.

So, at some point in time, Essek comes to a sort of realization that he’s… being stupid. He can’t effect real change to atone for his wrongs as a transient on the run from the government. It’s just punishing himself, his friends, and his boyfriend, and he doesn’t want to do it anymore. He wants to get Transmogrification cast on him, but he’s worried that he still might be caught, the people who would seek him out have magic to look in his mind if they suspect his new form. They might need to fake his death.

And then Caleb is like: well, we don’t have to fake it at all.

Because Caleb has a copy of Clone. And so a plan is made, they’ll grow a new Essek, make a spare spell book, and a new spell book to match the his new identity they are crafting, and when the year is up, the Nein will turn Essek in for treason. He’ll get executed, and once he wakes in his fresh pod body, they’ll escort him to the spell circle to start his new life.

The comedy potential in the planning stages for his new identity and form is great. Angst too.

After Essek picks his new name, he starts to insist they start to call him by it almost exclusively, and the Nein don’t want to, that seems weird. Essek’s insistence that he’d only had the name Essek for 30 years, he was barely used to it in the first place, it was no big deal and den members change names all the name because for many reasons, it soothes the M9, but also creates more questions. Like what was your Child Name, huh, hot boi? (He refuses to tell them as a point of pride. His child name was so silly!)

He and Caleb work very closely on his new form and there are disagreements:

On the angsty side: Essek puts forward that with some light modifications and a higher level of casting, they could also give the target the lifespan of the chosen race over the original. They could make him a human in his 30’s and they could spend the rest of both of their lives together. He doesn’t care about living a long time, just being with those he loves and atonning for his sins. Caleb refuses vehemently, that’d be paramount to killing Essek with his own hand and he refuses to do it. He makes him swear that he won’t do anything stupid when the Nein are all gone. He almost calls off the whole thing.

On the funny side: We have Essek, who as a member of a noble den had a through sex education that throughly covered gender and tried to prepare the young drow in early schooling that they could be in, or one day be in, a body much different from theirs. They try to ease they into the idea that might someday give birth, or might have already done so in a previous life. Gender and Body Dysmorphia are covered throughly. Gender is kind of bullshit to him. His form is kind of bullshit. He was acquainted with the fact his body might not always be or have been what it is at a very young age. He is largely unconcerned with how his new form will make HIM feel, he’d get used to it easy. He wants to know what Caleb would like.

Caleb, on the other hand, is trying to reduce body and gender dysmorphia as much as possible after his experience getting to know Nott/Veth. He’s trying to figure out how close they can get to the original without getting caught. To make it easier for Essek to adjust.

Caleb has absolutely no idea how to deal with Essek suggesting giving his new form a much larger penis (because he knows Caleb is a little bit of a size queen) or intersex body configurations (because Caleb likes both, right? He could very be both. He had some cousins that seemed very happy that were intersex or nonbinary.). He turns him down, explains why, but that doesn’t stop Essek’s brain train.

So naturally, when Essek asks if Caleb wants biological child and suggests they could just make him a woman if he did, the other man absolutely loses hugs shit and chokes on his tongue in shock. In take a long time to calm him down and the drow’s assurance that it wasn’t a big deal, he had a soul sibling (he actually used a weird drow word, but that’s what it meant) that his father gave birth to when he was woman and his mother was a man, they married into Den Mirimm to strengthen Den relations! Happened all the time! Did not in fact help Caleb much, he had several questions.

Just a lots of Essek taking the whole much less seriously than most of the Nein because of his upbringing.

They end up make him a male elf roughly his age with very tan skin. They make up a whole amnesia story, Fjord and Jester pretend to find him washed up on shore. They wait 4 months him and Caleb to ‘start dating’ and two months after that to move in, claiming a ‘whirlwind romance’. They are married within the year. (Because fuck them breaking up because of lifespan angst, that’s bullshit and I refuse to entertain it lol.) They get to be happy together and make the world better as a pair, a unit, and Essek continues their various cause they’d taken up well after Caleb dies an old man.

[shadowgast-recs-weekly]

Shadowgast Recs: Learning to Love/Accept that they're Loved

Hi all! This week we've got ten fics that involve Caleb or Essek learning how to accept love, or learning how to love. Recs under the cut, and as always, remember to comment or kudos if you liked them!

The Mind and The Malady by SaltCore (38941,Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: Graphic Depictions of Violence, vomiting, (assumed) terminal illness

Essek contracts hanahaki disease, and documents his decline while travelling with the Mighy Nein through Aeor.

Reccer says: The hanahaki fic for people who don't like the hanahaki trope -- nuanced exploration of the ethical dilemma behind telling someone that their unrequited love is killing you, and Essek's scientific, methodical approach towards the illness feels very in-character

If Essek Were of a Mood by OkaySoWereDoinThis (3572,Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

The day after destroying the T-dock chamber, Essek overhears Caleb’s predictions about their future and has Things To Say about that.

Reccer says: It's a very cute response to the idea that lifespan angst may stand in the way of Caleb and Essek loving each other

Have You Reconsidered? by wtgw (4081,Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: Major Character Death, lifespan angst

Caleb breaks up with Essek shortly before his 65th birthday. Every so often, Essek asks if he reconsidered.

Reccer says: It's sad and sweet and demonstrates how Essek would respect Caleb's boundaries, but would refuse to stop loving him through his years.

Keys to the Castle by Anonymous (51812,Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: None

Essek has a spare key to the tower and it takes him a while to realise that it's a romantic thing

Reccer says: Omg the pining is glorious and painful

the lavender bush by canyon_wizard (16921,Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: Dubcon/Consensual Non Consent

Caleb has a complicated relationship to sex, attraction, and Essek.

Reccer says: A sharper look at learning to accept love and kindness, it's rough at the beginning as they work through a darker take on Caleb's history, this is full of sharp character moments and plot points that keep you reading. I love the journey of where it ends up.

i wish to sleep, (but not) to wake by Defiler_Wyrm, SaltCore (36736,Mature) Reccer's Content Notes: Suicidal ideation, gaslighting/unreality

Essek appears to be living a charmed life with Caleb, getting everything he wishes. But there have been strange intrusions on his world, with his friends acting strange. They're begging him to wake up.

Reccer says: The setup is masterfully done, but I think the real star is the back half- where Essek has to deal with the fallout of everything he's experienced and learn to adjust to reality.

a sort of beacon where there used to be a dull roar by wordonawing (8781,Mature) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Essek gets hurt, and then stays with Caleb while he recovers. And then for a while after

Reccer says: It's very soft and sweet and has a lot of quiet pining even while they're living together

The cold space between us fears your warmth by measuringtheabyss (6223,General) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Essek hides an injury from Caleb, not wanting to “waste” a potion on himself—because he is trying to unlearn being selfish.

Reccer says: Essek’s thought process is so achingly believable here, and the whump and h/c is delightful. Caleb’s reaction is perfect.

pieces of (you) me by KmacKatie (31012,Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

A post-canon fic that explores coming together and what makes a house a home.

Reccer says: Told in alternating perspectives, this is about each of the wizards grappling with the changes they go through and adjustment to a new life, while each tentatively bridging that gap between friend and more. It's so worth the end of seeing them finally reach out and take up space.

Hold Me Close, Cut Me Deep by CatgirlTheCrazy (14192,Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: Mind control

While in Aeor, Essek accidentally releases an incubus that takes Caleb's form

Reccer says: It's great for lovers of self-sacrifice, but also both Caleb and Essek get a lesson on valuing their own life as well.

Aeor is for Lovers is an 18+ Shadowgast Discord server. The above fanfic recommendations were pulled from our community for this weekly event. All fics, unless otherwise specified, will primarily feature Shadowgast. Next week, we're featuring Alternate Timelines/Echoes!

[wizardnuke]

For the ask game: 13 and 17!

13. worst blorboification

this is a setup. we know my answer to this. there are not words to describe the depth of my fiery hatred for some of the essek takes i see on here. he did not do all that because his mommy was mean to him. he also did not and will not ever be "good" in the way of being kind and gentle and remorseful about everything he ever did.

you don't redemption arc a villain by having them repent for their sins via community service. villains can't just. file down their fangs and put on a kitchen apron and pretend to be a well-adjusted member of society with a husband and a garden and a research job. he's never going to swear to never turn a person inside-out again. he wouldn't flinch if he had to, i dunno, do open-heart surgery on a very awake and aware patient. the kitchen apron has tomato sauce stains on it. he planted mint in the garden four years ago, not knowing that it spreads as wildly as it does, and still keeps finding new growth after he thinks he's ripped it all out. sometimes he hates the mighty nein for everything they took from him. wouldn't you miss being so powerful? choosing kindness is exhausting and sometimes he doesn't. sometimes he and caleb fight. sometimes one or both of them are out on seperate missions for a long time and that's okay. he's still proud and angry and ruthless.

tl;dr essek didnt do all that because his mommy was mean to him and he didn't get aaaall betterrrrr because the m9 were niceys to him. get real. they gave him a glimpse of what it looks like to actually live, an ultimatum and a bit of help on where to start, and sometimes he wishes that that volstrucker girl had actually managed to kill caleb. the venom in his veins has a very long half-life. that's okay. it's keeping him alive. do u get it. do u get it

17. there should be more of this kind of fic/art

what the fuck happened to whump fics, guys. what happened. what happened. bring it back. i need that character bleeding out on the ground. get real

choose violence ask game

[your-enby-antihero]

Caleb and the two very hot purple people that are sitting at the next table over

Based on a  tumblr post

Caleb works as a teacher at the Soltryce Academy. His life is fairly normal, not very notable at all, but when he meets two people at a bar he becomes an utter mess.

also available on ao3

—————————————————————————

Chapter 6: Mollymauk Tealeaf and Essek Thelyss go to Dinner with a very Dysfunctional Found Family

Summary: Interactions between the Nein and Molly and Essek. Dinner is had and Molly and Essek spoil the group with gifts.

—————

Molly had gotten a text from Yasha mid day while working on an acrylic piece. Their lavender hands were splattered with muddy blues and greens, a commissioned piece for a wealthy lady that had seen his art. Ophelia Mardoon, she was from Shadycreek and had come in recently for a time and saw some of Molly’s art up in Caduceus’ cafe. She had commissioned something to hang over her fireplace. So when Molly finally got to Yasha’s message it was late evening.

“One new message from 🖤🤍The Charm🤍🖤: Hey Molly Beau wanted me to ask if you and Essek were free to come to Caleb’s celebration dinner after the Soltryce conference :) The rest of the gang is coming too, oh and invite Caduceus Jester has been asking about him”

Molly smiled coyly to themself, looking at the unanswered but read text they had sent to Caleb late the evening before, they remembered having texted Caleb about meeting up for dinner after his presentation but it seemed he already had plans. Poor dear must have felt guilty about having plans already and not have texted back. No matter, Molly was excited to get the whole crew together and meet the friend that Caleb had mentioned. Molly adored children and supposedly Veth’s son Luc was a treat to be around. They called over to Essek, who was in the kitchen knitting. 

Essek popped his head onto the room curiously and walked up to Molly, “darling what can I do for you?”

Molly smiled and pecked Essek on the cheek before handing him their phone carefully so that he would get any paint of Essek’s clothes.

“Yasha was wondering if we wanted to go to a big dinner with Beau and Co. Caleb apparently already had plans to go out with everybody after the Soltryce Conference.”

“Oh well that works out nicely,” Essek smiled, reading the text, “what should we bring as gifts?”

——————

Essek adjusted a pair of star cufflinks that Molly had given him on their 2 year anniversary. His hands ran over the silver outline of a cluster of stylized stars that sat on his cuffs. He smiled listening to Molly ideally chatter about a cute kid they met at the library that day, Kiri Schuster, Essek recalled. Essek sat on their bed, pillows and blankets creating a nest of sorts, meanwhile Molly was leaning towards the mirror of the bathroom and carefully applying a shimmer to their eyelids.

They were meeting up with the gang at Taste of Tal’dorei. Veth had suggested it because she and her husband had taken their son a few times before and after a chaotic and frankly boring day at the Soltryce Conference for most, it would be a good time. 

Essek was delighted that he had gotten home just in time to freshen up before dinner. Even though he had been happy to help out Caleb and lead the “Is Dunamancy your school?” presentation, being around all those (barring Caleb) monstrous Assembly people made Essek feel disgusting.

They climbed into Essek’s car, Molly settling the bags filled with gifts into the trunk before carefully sitting so that the sheer fabric of their cardigan didn’t wrinkle on the car ride over. The sleeveless black turtleneck showing his tattoos proudly and dark leggings warming their legs against the cold leather seats.

Essek wore a very nice dress shirt that Jester described as “a pirate but more professor-y” and a pair of black slacks. As his polished dress shoes stepped onto the gas pedal, they were off.

——————

Once they arrived Molly spotted Yasha, her brilliant white hair shining like a pearl in the restaurant’s lights. They jumped towards her, running to tackle her into a hug. Luckily Yasha’s reflexes were on point and she caught Molly and reciprocated the hug.

“Oh love it has been too long,” they sighed, as they squeezed her as tight as he could.

Yasha laughed, “Molly it’s only been a few days since I saw you.”

They had met up for coffee at Caduceus’ place, just to chat and catch up, since Yasha was so busy running a bar and these last few commissions had been keeping Molly busy.

Beau shouted a snarky greeting and Molly barked one back. Essek smiled and greeted the table as Jester usher him to take his “designated seat”, which just so happened to be directly across from Caleb. He smiled happily at the ginger, who immediately flushed red and awkwardly waved back. 

The meal was passable, the acting was fine, but the company was leagues better. Luc, Veth’s son, was hilarious. Molly was surprised that Yeza, who had seemed like the type to keep an eye on his child’s profanity, was fine, if not blasé, with how many time the tiny halfling had shouted ‘holy fuck’ at the events of the creation of Gwessar. He had also sneakily found the present that Molly and Essek had brought for him, a toy crossbow that Essek had found at a local shop run by a lovely firbolg Pumat Sol. Essek had rigged the crossbow so that the bolt would return to the quiver with some creative use of dunamancy. 

The entire table was laughing and chatting, the atmosphere was full of love and more than a few playful jabs at Fjord by Veth. 

“You’re still weaker than Luc Fjord, look at your stick arms. Here let me help you,” she teased as a mage hand went to grab the jug of ice water from the other side of the table.

Jester and Molly laughed as Fjord gave a half-hearted sigh relinquishing the jug to the hand. The food was served and laughter abounded. 

Molly had passed out all the gifts that the couple had brought, a few nice bottles of liquor, a few cute knick knacks from Rosohna, and a voucher for free babysitting for the Brenattos. A fancy new set of water colours and a mug that read “mmm paint water” on the side with a bag of mug cake mix for Jester. A new mug for Fjord that read “Yes I’m doing my PhD. No, I am not functioning.” The mug was mostly a joke but in it had a gift certificate for a local blacksmithing shop, with a note that said “for when you get that fancy title you’ll need a fancy sword to go with it :P”. For Beau and Yasha they got them new gym memberships to a newer place by where Molly and Essek lived that specialize in providing a space for queer individuals to train in hand to hand and sword combat, and also a promise that Molly would hunt down a tacky singing fish for their bar, as well as a tiny little succulent for Yasha and a pair of new set of rings for Beau. For Caduceus a hand knit big cozy sweater that Essek had been working on and a collection of new jewelry pieces fashioned to look like beetle wings and carapaces that Molly had made. Finally for Caleb a large set of very nice pens with an abnormal amount of stationary paper, a large mug filled with bags of calming teas, and a few cat toys for Frumpkin and maybe a little piece of paper with a note on it for later.

Everyone was surprised but delighted by the gifts, Veth saying something along the lines of “if you only knew me earlier Tealeaf, I’d have drunk you out of house and home,” she chuckled.

The night ended with a glorious fight for the bill, and Caduceus sneakily taking it during the commotion. Beau and Yasha had tried to brute force a win to take the bill and pay for the meal whilst Jester and Fjord tried to smooth talk their way to victory. Veth had tried to sneakily pull it for the check folder and Yeza kept an eye on both Luc and Caleb. Molly had tried to insist and Essek was trying to get away to get to the front counter. Caleb sat embarrassed and red faced, he had attempted to pay but with a few very sweet and slightly violent words he accepted his congratulations dinner.

The night ended there, everyone heading out to their cars and Luc, who was fast asleep, was being carried by Yeza. Jester scrambled to Molly before they stepped into the car.

“Mollyyyyy! Why did you get everyone presents and you didn’t tell me!!! How am I supposed to give you a gift in return,” she whined, her face in a very large pout.

“Jester, you know I couldn’t resist! And plus with everyone here it made it so that we didn’t have to wait for times we could give it to you all separately, it was just perfect timing,” he smiled.

Jester rolled her eyes affectionately, “I’ll get you back during Winter’s Crest, just you wait,” she yelled as Fjord had driven up to them and had shouted for Jester to get in.

Molly slipped into the car, blowing Jester a kiss goodbye. Essek sat down and started the car, the familiar hum filled the night air as the couple sailed across the roads back to their home.

“That sure was fun, wasn’t it love,” Molly asked, their hand propped against the window to support the weight of his face culled in their hand.

Essek smiled as he slipped a piece of his fringe behind a pointed ear, “they sure are a lively bunch.”

“I love it here,” Molly proclaimed, as they pulled back to their apartment.

[essektheylyss]

It is fascinating that Essek’s identity is wrapped in both his religious upbringing and his scientific agnosticism and it feels so real to me that I struggle to even convey it. Contrasting this episode with some of his comments in 91 and 97, you can see the conflict between these, especially now that they’ve uncovered these findings in the Aeorian ruins.

He describes the Dynasty’s religious beliefs at their dinner as being “based on myth and intepretation” and “based on assumption, on existing scripture written by individuals hundreds and hundreds of years ago.” And really his concern is that the religious aspect is in fact a distraction—“these artifacts, I theorize, have nothing to do with a divine being but are just perhaps artifacts designed in the Age of Arcanum that have been misread.”

He does mention that the Luxon seems to be some kind of entity, or at least refers to it as such, but he actually suggests what Caleb does later—theorizing that the beacons are not divine at all, and are in fact only Age of Arcanum artifacts, and as such believes that because they are distracted with worship, “only the surface has been scratched of what’s possible.”

And he reiterates that in his confession as well! “There are so many mysteries around these beacons, around dunamis, what it’s capable of.” He truly doesn’t know what’s beyond the applications of what he’s studying are, and he really doesn’t know anything about them beyond what is mythologized and what power they have already uncovered.

Now, contrast that to 124:

Veth: “The beacon's design? As in these things were made by man? I thought they were gifted by a god or something.”

Essek: “I do not believe that they are made by anyone but the Luxon. They are of the Luxon. But they've been around since the Luxon's been in Exandria, which is the beginning. So it is possible that there may be one or more beacons that they uncovered long before we did. And if that's the case, that brings the Dynasty that much closer to bringing the Luxon together. So this is very much important. And these are only recent findings.”

Which is a very different tune from his ideas at dinner! And this was behind closed doors, where he was willing to speak openly of dealings with the Assembly, naming Ludinus and Trent out loud, so it does not seem to be a charade to appease those in the Dynasty who may overhear his sacrilege.

It makes me wonder what findings they actually have—to me it sounds like perhaps what they have uncovered in Aeor is evidence that these beacons are far older than the Age of Arcanum, that they may date to the origins of Exandria itself—which aligns with the Luxon creation myth as described in EGTW:

“According to the teachings of the Kryn and the Umavi who scribe their faith, it is believed that long before the gods of Exandria came to shape this world, there was a time when a single Light came from the dark nothingness. Other lights came into being around them, settling as the stars in the cosmos. This one Light, however, resisted the force that beckoned them to burn like their star-fated brethren. This one Light wanted to understand what they were and chose to wander alone, choosing a different path. This choice led to endless stretches of lonely dark, the voices of the stars silent to the Light that walked away. Lonely, they wandered until they found a cold, dark rock: a world. The Light grew fond of this rock, seeing it as lonely as they were, and embraced it. They sparked a fire within, crackling the surface and giving fiery life to the cold world.”

But he also touches on the other part of this myth—that the Luxon can be reassembled! And still Essek doesn’t describe why, really, and I’m very interested if he is merely striving for something, anything, that will make things make sense* or if there’s evidence pushing him to this conclusion that they’ve found in the ruins.

Even here, he doesn’t describe what he believes will happen when the Dynasty assembles the beacons—I want to contrast two parts of EGTW here:

The ending of the Origins of the Luxon section says:

“This act exhausted the Light, and they fell into a deep slumber within the core of the world, awaiting a time where the children of their own mind would learn from life to life, through eons of struggle and self-reflection, until the knowledge had matured enough to reassemble them, awaken them, and the children could grant the answer to the question the Light had sought from the very beginning: what are they and what was their purpose?”

Meanwhile, the Kryn Dynasty section in chapter two says:

“It is believed that once all the beacons are brought together, the Luxon will be summoned from their slumber to ask their children the great question and impart the truth. It is said that at this time, the Luxon will take those who entered the consecution and abandon this lesser world to start a new world elsewhere.”

First of all, one of these suggests that the point of assembling these beacons is to receive an answer and also leave this world, while the other suggests that they will be asked to give an answer. Is this something Essek thinks he can achieve? Second of all, it is interesting because we know he himself is not consecuted (though he lied to the Nein that he was—which is another giant mystery because hey Matt, what the fuck) and is therefore not in fact what the Dynasty would consider among the “children” of the Luxon. But he believes that this is important in some way. Why is it important to him, given he doesn’t seem to believe he will be accepted again in the Dynasty even with a victory here, given that he is not one of these children?**

It just feels very real to his experience—that he adjusts even his view of his family’s religion when presented with new information, that he is open to change in many regards, that he is warring with a want to believe (cue X-Files theme) because he has grown up so isolated within an entire society that he disagreed with. It’d be natural to want to find proof that perhaps your mother was right, that not everyone around you was clouded—that you were in fact the one who was wrong in this regard as well.

And perhaps this goes along with another viewpoint he has recently adopted: “I have been clouded in my judgment many times for a lot of my life.” Is it possible he has leaned further into the religion in an internal sort of penance and shame for his arrogance? I have no idea. But I’m hoping once we dive into Aeor, we come across some of this iconography he referenced, so maybe he can shed some further Light on the matter.

*I’ve written in the past that Essek, former gifted kid as he is, really never suggests a goal or motivation beyond just achievement. There’s interest in climbing the political ladder, of course, but even that feels hollow given he is seeking some kind of nebulous idea of what applications could be uncovered—applications that he can only theorize about, especially given the one potential application we know of, time travel, seems to be something that, up until recently, he believed rather dangerous to attempt. Which is in itself another question—was there further confirmation of that being possible as well?

**It’s been suggested that perhaps Essek underwent consecution and it didn’t stick but he believes himself consecuted, which I do not ascribe to for a few reasons that I won’t get into, but it’s worth mentioning here.

[spritewrites]

day 2: hiding

“How do you float, Essek?”

It’s… not an unusual question, in and of itself. Rather, he would get it frequently when he was younger, back when it was a fascination, before everyone in his life simply adjusted to this fact of his daily existence. And he hasn’t brought anyone new into his life in… well. A long time.

Still, it’s been some time since he’s been asked in such a genuinely curious way. More often, those who inquire have their own motivations; perhaps they’d like to do it themselves, or they’re looking for a way to undermine the arcane nature of the trick, to manipulate it somehow. Essek doesn’t blame them. He has his own motivations as well. Best to keep it a mystery to those so like himself.

But the tilt of her head, the shine in her eye… Jester’s intrigued, not manipulative. At least. Not manipulative right now.

“It’s a spell I developed in my graviturgy lessons.”

She blinks. “How far off the ground are you?”

“Oh…” Essek glances down. “Perhaps six inches, typically.”

Jester grins, her tail flicking. “You must be pretty short, then.”

He gives her a look, the practiced one that always used to put Verin off his teasing. She doesn’t seem deterred.

“You know…” Suddenly she’s very near, lifting her chin and nearly scraping his jaw with the tip of a horn. “You might not be much taller than me, Essek.”

Well. Entirely of its own accord, Essek’s face grows warm. “I—I can assure you that I am taller than you. At least, ah. I mean. At least a bit—”

“But how can we know?” Jester says, her eyes enormous and innocent. “You always hide under this giant—whatever you call it.”

“Mantle.”

“Sure.” She leans forward, peering into the folds of fabric. “Is there even anything under there?”

“Excuse me? Of course there—ah—”

A blue finger prods right into his middle, pushing into the layers of heavy fabric, and finding contact with his stomach. For a moment, he’s certain that she’s cast something, electricity sparking at the point of pressure. Before he can stop himself, Essek flinches, hands flying up to wrap around his torso—but then her touch is gone, and with it, that odd feeling.

There’s some kind of sparkle in Jester’s eye that he doesn’t trust, and she’s looking at him like… like a predator, almost, fangs poking over the edge of her grin. He knew the sweetness had to be an act.

Essek adjusts his mantle, clearing his throat. “I can assure you that I am a complete person.”

“A completely ticklish person,” Jester says, and she reaches to poke him again. His stomach reacts before he can, curving away, but she’s quick, quicker than him—this one lands at the bottom of his ribcage, prompting that spark of sensation again. Essek grits his teeth.

“Ex-excuse me, Jester—”

There’s more pokes, now, coming faster, and each is lingering a little, scratching at its destination. “Why didn’t you tell us, Essek?” she asks, giggling as he curls into himself midair. “I would’ve tickled you sooner if I knew you were so twitchy!”

“That’s—that’s exactly why I—oh, wait, wait—”

Essek grits his teeth, clamping down on the flood of laughter he feels bubbling up in his lungs, as she tickles viciously into the folds of his cloak. For all his layers, he can feel every scrape of claw, every wriggle of mischievous tiefling fingers in the spaces of his ribs, the curve of his side, the quiver of his stomach.

“Hnn—nno, no plehease—”

Jester’s speaking, something fizzy and saccharine, but it’s impossible to hear over his heartbeat in his ears, the effort of trying to hold himself together too great to even attempt a proper escape. His arms feel less like limbs and more like limp noodles that swat ineffectively at her, barely making an impact on her relentless assault.

Oh, gods, he’s going to die.

One of her claws works its way into an armpit, and by the Light, this has to be some kind of spell, because nothing on this plane should tickle this fucking much. His elbows shoot to his sides, trying to squeeze her hand out of the vulnerable space, but it’s too late—her fingers are lodged, wriggling away, and without his hands to cover his mouth, he’s absolutely fucked.

With a snort that would make his mother faint, Essek squeaks and squirms and bursts into giggles. They’re pouring from him, uncontrollable and all-consuming, and he can feel a flush creep up his ears at the sound.

He… honestly can’t remember the last time he laughed, at least not genuinely, and he’s not sure that he’s giggled like this since he’s been able to walk. It’s quite embarrassing, all told, but there’s also a kind of release in it, a relaxing of his shoulders, a bending of his spine, an unclenching of his jaw—

“There now.”

Suddenly the electricity is gone, as soon as it started, the tingles vanishing with her retreating hands. Jester’s bouncing on her toes, looking for all the world like nothing had just happened. “See? You have such a nice smile.”

There are any number of things that he could have expected her to say, but that was… certainly not one of them. Luckily, diplomacy takes over before he can blush any further.

“Oh. Well. Thank you.”

“And you’re not as short as I thought!”

With a start, Essek glances down. Sure enough, the ground is firm beneath his boots, brought back to him by all that dreadful tickling causing him to lose the spell.

Well, actually.

Was it dreadful?

…Never mind.

“I did tell you I wasn’t that short.”

Jester regards his planted feet carefully. “You know, with all that floating, I bet those are pretty ticklish too.”

Essek breathes in, breathes out, and calmly decides not to cause a political disaster. “Don’t push it.”

[aboxthecolourofheartache]

Three thousand four hundred years later, I am responding to @saturdaysky‘s tag for this writing meme:

Rules: List the first lines of the last ten (10) stories you published.   Look to see any patterns you notice yourself, and see if anyone else notices any. Then tag some friends. 

Thank you for the tag! :D 

I am utterly unable to pick out most patterns in my writing, so this should be interesting.  I’m not going to do the “official” last ten, since I can’t for the life of me remember which prompt “chapters” went up before others.

Without further ado...

Out of Season

Essek arrives after apple blossom season when all the petals are down and the fruits are waxy green nubs.   

New Bearings

Jayce never understands why people assume he is the ‘problem child’ when Viktor’s sensibility barely goes skin-deep.

Chapter 31 of the compilation of shorter Critical Role stuff

They attend a play.  

Chapter 17 of the compilation of shorter Nirvana in Fire stuff aka “you have the most amazing eyes”

Fei Liu runs back and forth all morning with armfuls of Lin Chen’s garden.

Visitation Hours

The Nein attend the trial.

Reminders

“Hey, Essek?”  Jester bends over his shoulder, her face nearly upside-down in front of his.  

Mirror-Colored

Alone in his suite in Widogast’s Nascent Tower, Essek gives his eyes time to adjust to the ‘moonlight’ shining through the stained glass.

One Night in the Sun/The Grit That Seeds the Pearl

Dawn will not break for almost an hour yet, but the drow in the twelve-sided plaza, with their sensitive darkvision, can already feel the coming daylight like watchful, unseen eyes.

Misaligned   

Shadowhand Essek den Thelyss drifts into his office and pulls the door shut with a neat click.

Ever Onward

At the highest peak of Langya Mountain, there is a hollow space between the bole of a tree and a great, grey boulder.

...

Looks like it’s either short and sweet or the most run on of all possible sentences?  I like my leading nouns.  Less leading dialogue than I thought there would be?  Idk, maybe more of my drafts start with dialogue and it gets edited out, but I remember it better.  Most of these set a pretty clear visual. 

Anything pop out to anyone?

Please consider yourself tagged if you’d like to participate! :D

[omniscientwreck]

Day 7: Bread & Soup // Creation

Here we are! Finally finished Day 7! I’ve never completed anything like this before so I hope you’ve enjoyed this journey with me! Thanks to the folks who organized @shadowgastweek and I’ve loved seeing everyone’s contributions. Here’s hoping this Thursday is a good one for our boys <3 

As always please let me know what you think, this is unedited so proceed with caution, and stay tuned for the college AU I’ve been working on. 

Day 7: Bread & Soup // Creation

Essek knows that, providing he says yes, the moment the Nein find out they are engaged all hell will break loose.

Essek knows that, providing Caleb says yes, the moment the Nein find out they are engaged all hell will break loose. He’s not a particularly conventional or traditional man and a few short years ago he would have never paid mind to the idea of getting married one day.

Things have changed, he’s changed quite significantly. Every day he spends with the copper haired wizard who calls him sweetheart and angel the more convinced he is that they should never be apart.

If simply having the Nein for friends had changed him, loving someone and being loved in return had made him a new person. The simplicity of having someone to come home to, someone to make noise in his previously empty tower. With the relinquishing of much of the privilege of the Thelyss name, they’d taken up residence in a less auspicious district of the firmaments, outside of the gated community in which he’d been raised.

It felt good to be closer to his friends, a few streets down from the Xorhaus, and it felt good to build a home with someone. Caleb hadn’t moved in immediately of course, it took a year or so before they progressed enough in their relationship to feel comfortable sharing a life. That doesn’t mean Caleb’s tastes hadn’t influenced Essek’s decisions, and when he moved in they continued adjusting and changing until they both felt they belonged there.

He asked Caleb to marry him on the anniversary of their first date. After defeating Lucien they’d gone back to Aeor and studied and after a while the tension built. There were small touches, lingering glances, at first Essek attributed this to how Caleb treated his other friends. But as time passed eventually they would reach for each other’s hands, if there was a breakthrough Caleb would press their foreheads together and hold his face and the closeness was intoxicating.

They would have discussions late into the night, discovering and learning. They told stories of their pasts and eventually Essek opened up to Caleb completely, there was not a secret of his the wizard hadn’t heard and Caleb returned the trust in kind.

They worked hard over months and when they were done and had a reason to part ways, Essek found he couldn’t. “I have something to ask of you, it is just a question and any response is acceptable of course. I do not want to pressure you.”

Caleb turned and leaned down, catching Essek’s eyes from the spot on the ground he’d been intently staring at, “Of course, you can ask any question of me.” He was clearly confused but trying to reassure Essek with a small smile.

“I have had, to be honest, a wonderful time studying with you here. Not just studying but talking, getting to know you. I have come to realize that I am quite fond of you Caleb Widogast.” Words tumbled out of his mouth and if he stopped the momentum at all he would lose steam and walk back his confession, “I was wondering whether, when we’re back in Roshona, or anywhere really it matters not to me, if I may buy you dinner. Or we could go do something else, take in some theatre, a concert. I care not what we do I simply wish to be there with you.”

He was out of breath and he knew the effort that had taken cause a deep flush on his cheeks. He searched Caleb’s face and his heart fluttered as his companion’s smile widened, “Yes,” His voice was tender as he closed the distance between them, “That would be much to my liking. I’ve enjoyed spending time with you too Essek and I’d like to see where this road may take us.”

“Well I suspect dinner will the the first place.” Caleb nodded and grabbed for Essek’s hand and they walked together to the Xhorhasian base to leave for home.

Their first date had been everything Essek expected and more, they went on more and more dates, spent time with each other studying, talking, enjoying music and art, and taking physical comfort in each other. It had been unlike anything he’d ever experienced. To miss someone when they were away, to feel like two people with one goal, one project, beginning to build something together that was intangible and entirely personal.

It wasn’t long after they’d begun cohabitating that Essek had though of marriage. It’s interesting how casual a thought it had become in the past few months. Considering Caleb might be his husband, to willingly join himself to another. To never be alone again.

The night he asks, Caleb has just come home from a trip to assist Yussa. They worked together on occasion and whenever Caleb went to his aid he was gone for an extended period. They’d been working on something to do with the folding halls and Caleb has begun telling him all about it. Whenever he tells Essek of these projects his face changes completely, there’s no hint of the sorrow that’s weighed him down for so long, he uses his hands to talk and his features are bright and animated.

He realizes a little too late that his mind has completely wandered off and Caleb is trying to get his attention back to him. “Schatz, what is that faraway look in your eyes? What are you dreaming of?”

Before even realizing the word he’s forming he’s already spoken, “You.”

Cheeks burning, he feels himself beginning to flail at the sweet look on his lover’s face, “Caleb I know we have talked about this before and I know the consensus wasn’t entirely clear but it’s been some time and I love you deeply. Everything we’ve been through together has strengthened us. You’ve made me a better man, taught me so much about life, we’ve conquered so many seemingly insurmountable tasks side by side and with the aid of our friends. We have walked through hell and back and I know that together we can do anything we set our minds to. I love you wholly and without hesitation and I would be honoured if you give to me the greatest happiness of becoming my husband.”

At that he pulls a ring he’s been saving from his wristpocket. It’s simple and silver, two bands side by side that cross over three times at the top of the ring, polished and clean. He holds it to Caleb who is beaming and holding out a simple golden band to Essek, it’s thin and polished with a flat top and a small red gem. “Mein Engel I could not possibly say yes fast enough, I have, I will admit, been waiting for the moment for quite some time. As usual you beat me to the punch.”

Hands trembling, Caleb allows Essek to slide the ring onto this hand and in turn does the same. Essek strokes Caleb’s face with the back of his hand and they embrace, hands entwining into each other’s hair, he holds Caleb as close as physics will allow but finds even that is not close enough. They stay like that for a long time before Caleb breaks the embrace, “We had better tell the Nein, Jester will throw a fit if she finds out we made her wait.”

“Tomorrow, tonight is for us and then tomorrow we can plan.”

They kiss again and the night is filled with sweet affirmations and poetic words.

--------

The Nein arrived a week before the date, promising to help with any preparations needed. Though Essek is no longer integral to the Den’s society, there are still certain expectations. They have ensured the correct people are invited without expanding the affair to be too overwhelming, Essek will have to endure his family but small inconveniences can be tolerated for a greater good.

His mother is, of course, scandalized but he pays it little mind. His brother is surprisingly ecstatic and takes a larger role in planning than Essek would have initially anticipated. He helps them find venues, flowers, caterers (though Jester, as a wedding gift, takes care of the cake and pastries). It’s strange to reconnect properly with his brother after so long apart, but it’s comforting that his attitude towards Essek hasn’t changed much. Growing up had done them both good.

They have asked Caduceus to perform their ceremony which he readily agreed to. They do away with anyone accompanying them to the alter, decide that they will walk out from opposing sides of the backyard layout they’ve planned, and join in the middle. As Caleb puts it, “This decision is mine and mine alone. I love my friends but it is important to me that I am not being given away and that I stand alone and commit myself to you.”

“Of course, I understand, anything you want my love.”

When Essek had explained the bread making ritual that is a part of most Xhorhasian weddings, Caleb had been more than accepting. “It’s customary for us to choose three people to make the bread, I have one person in mind that I would particularly appreciate being a part of that process. My brother has been an immense help to me and I know he particularly enjoys this tradition.”

Caleb nods, “Of course, of course. I think that I would like to ask Veth. She has been by my side for years and is my closest friend.”

Essek nods, he has an idea for the third person and judging by the look on Caleb’s face he has similar thoughts, “Jester?”

He laughs and nods, “Jester indeed.”

They ask their family and are met with whole hearted agreement. Technically the betrothed aren’t supposed to be there but Caleb wasn’t about to miss the chaos. Verin was guiding Veth and Jester through the kneading and they didn’t take long to begin discussing decorations. They decided on a pair of birds for the couple with a bird surrounding them for each of their friends and family, wheat for prosperity, braided strands of dough to represent the joining of lives, different varieties of flowers native to Xhorhas sculpted for long lives, good health, and strong commitment to another. Verin taught them the traditional songs as they worked and soon before long the three of them sang together, Jester inserting profanities whenever she forgot the words.

Seeing them work was complete chaos but soon the couple was shooed out as they got around to sculpting decorations, “Brother you know this must be a surprise. We have to stick to our roots just a little.”

“Yeah plus we need to gossip about you with Verin and learn all of your secrets Essek.” Jester drawls teasingly.

They leave and go about other preparations. Yasha and Beau are arranging flowers outdoors and for awhile they chat idly while following Yasha’s instincts. Beau and Caleb head inside to get some receptacles for the ever growing pile of stems and leaves accumulating on the table on which they worked. “Do you love him?”

Yasha stared intently from her position beside him at the table, having paused in her work. She’s never been talkative but he believes they understand each other, “Yes. I love him.”

“Good. I just wanted to see you say it for myself. The two of you remind me of something I once had. A beautiful moment in a very bleak past.I was lucky enough to find it a second time, and I pray that you never have to search for this again. I hope that your happiness transcends seasons and years and spreads farther than the horizon.”

She’s soft spoken, but he can tell she means it, “Thank you Yasha, I appreciate that very much.”

She smiles, and her eyes light up as her wife and his betrothed return. They talk and laugh through the day, finishing the decorations for the following day’s ceremony.

----

The day of, Essek can hardly contain himself. It’s unbearable that they have to go through the whole day before they can finally relax and just be married already. He’s had his own suit and robe custom made, Caleb hasn’t seen it yet and as he lays it out on the bed. Caleb is getting ready at the Xhorhaus which the Nein keep for emergencies such as this and is undoubtedly surrounded by the Nein fussing over him far more than he’d like. Their abode is quiet, Verin is getting ready in the guest room and is likely much less tense than Essek finds himself. He prepares in silence, going over his vows and wondering what Caleb will wear. He himself has a clean black suit, embroidered on the lapels in the same style as his preferred cloak. The cut is slim and it fits perfectly. The shirt is a deep plum and he has a silken black tie and pointed, shined black shoes. He wears the stole of his Den, his mother’s only request, and begins to properly prepare himself. He adorns his features in black and silver makeup, elongating the eye and adding a little drama. This ritual always calms Essek and today is no exception.

He’s taken his time getting ready and as he fastens his earrings in place, he’s alerted to a presence at his home. As he’s about to move to get the door, Verin calls out that he is taking care of it. Not long after, there’s a knock at his door, “Essek, it’s Veth. I know it’s getting close but may I speak with you?”

Veth. The one it’d been hardest to get to come around. Eventually she seemed to have let go but she still made Essek quite nervous. Far more so than even Beau, “Yes of course, come in.”

He turns to face her, she’s in a beautiful pink dress, makeup done and hair braided elaborately and adorned with flowers. “You look lovely, to what do I owe the pleasure of your presence?”

“You don’t have to be so formal with me. I just wanted to, I don’t know, speak with you briefly.” He gestures for her to sit in the twin chairs by the window, normally reserved for him and Caleb.

As they sit he folds his hands, trying to hide his fidgeting, “What is on your mind?”

“Well, I know this is a bit of a cliche, and the others have probably already talked with you but I feel I have to say it myself. It took me a long time to trust you, after what you did to my husband and then when we found out about the war crimes, I honestly wanted to be rid of you.

“I promise it gets better, just hear me out. I’ve been through a lot with Caleb. I’ve been by his side for some of his biggest moment and he’s been with me through some of the hardest times of my life. Our bond is forged by fire and nothing will break it. I care about him more than I can describe, he’s my boy and I am his protector.

“You have proven yourself to be worthy of him. I’ve seen the way he looks at you, I’ve heard his stories about you, about your life and what you are building together. I don’t know that I entirely understand, but you make him happy in a very profound way and that’s all I want. You two fucking nerds are clearly very much in love and anything that can make two people so happy must be good. It’s what we fought together for, so that these moments would continue, and for as long as you make Caleb happy I will be thankful for your presence in our lives.”

There’s a long pause as Essek collects his thoughts, “Veth Brenatto I thank you immensely. There is not much more I can say but please know that this is not something that comes easily or lightly to me. I am making a commitment and I keep my promises.”

“I know. But now you’re not only promising to him, you’re promising to me. You’d better make good on that promise or I swear I will make your life a living hell and you know I can.”

“Like I said, I never break my promises. I wouldn’t stand a chance against you.”

She laughs, “Oh no, you’re weaker than Fjord it would take me about a day.”

He smiles back at her, “People will be arriving soon, I’d prefer to continue alone if you don’t mind. Please, feel free to stay and wait if you’d like.” She nods and exits the room and he turns back to the mirror and makes a few final touches before heading down to nervously await Caleb.

-----

The ceremony begins, Caduceus stands at the head of the aisle, the Nein and their loved ones are seated, and music from the hired bards begins to soar over the yard. His mother is at the very back, she will be first to see him and likely first to leave as well.

He tries to stop thinking about her and keeps his eyes on the ground. They promised not to look until they were to begin walking and it was taking all his discipline to keep his eyes trained on the grass. It’s dark in Xhorhas but the flower fixtures and garlands are accentuated by globules of light, he’d allowed Jester to place them to create the best atmosphere. She took great care and her sensibilities had always been spot on.

The song changed and finally, Essek could look up. Just seeing Caleb he felt tears stinging at his eyes. Clean shaven, auburn hair braided back with carefully placed flowers accentuating his bright eyes, lit up with wonder and excitement. He’s wearing a traditional wizard’s robe, it looks like he went to the same tailor who did his own embroidery. The robe is a bright white and adorned with gold thread, intricate designs spiraling across the edges. It’s slightly parted in the front to reveal a well fitting black suit, deep red tie, and a flower with a small white ribbon tied to it fastened to his lapel. As they walked towards each other, joined hands, and stepped together to the altar, Essek couldn’t take his eyes away. Approaching Caduceus they dropped each other’s hands and stood on either side of the Firbolg as he touched their shoulders, initiating the ceremony, and began to speak.

“Hey everybody, we are here today to join these two wizards in marriage. Never in my life have I met two people more in need of love and more transformed by it. I don’t want to prolong this more than necessary, before me are two people who are so in love they’re letting us see it plainly on their faces and I think making them wait would be grossly unfair. So Caleb, your vows?”

Caleb unfolded a small piece of paper from a pocket, “I have a near perfect memory but, I want to get this right,” he mutters, he looks at Essek like he’s worried the bubble will burst at any moment and continues a little louder, “Essek Thelyss, you and I we have been through a great many things. We have stared armageddon in the face and we have walked out hand in hand. Through any trial, through any day good or bad, I know that if you stand at my side we can, together, face anything that comes our way. I look forward to the rest of this day and the rest of the days to come and I know there is no place I would rather be than at your side through battle, study, hell or high water. I love you, Essek Thelyss and I will never tire of telling you.”

All Essek can do is watch, he doesn’t fidget, he nearly forgets to breathe as Caleb’s words wash over him and he smiles. He hardly even cares how he looks to those in attendance, for once he can’t mitigate the lopsided grin that comes naturally to him and though he hasn’t cried in years he is having trouble holding tears in now.

As Caleb finishes and Caduceus gestures to him he begins to speak, “Caleb Widogast, this kind of thing does not come easy to me. I am not used to speaking directly and for a long time I couched my feelings in metaphor praying you would understand without my full commital to how I felt about you. Now I can plainly say that I love you, I have loved you for a long time. You have fundamentally changed me as a person, you’ve helped me understand a great many things and I am better now than I have ever been because of you. Through you I learned friendship, patience, happiness, and love. You and your friends well, I don’t know that I can explain the effect you’ve had on me but I am freer now than I have ever been. To you I promise my unending support, my aid in anything you should ask, a partner in your pursuits, and your life. Come what may, I will always love you.”

A few tears had escaped and Caleb’s eyes glistened back at him. They both looked to Caduceus who looked truly proud as he looked back and forth between them, he posed a few questions standard in both the empire and in the dynasty and at the end he declared, “This union is not the ending of two separate lives, but the joining and creation of one life shared by two. I know I speak for everyone when I say, finally, I pronounce you wed.”

A warm breeze blew through the yard, carrying the sweet scent of flowers and tousling Essek’s hair, and as Caduceus’ hands left their shoulders Essek wrapped his arms across Caleb’s shoulders as his husband pulled him in by the waist and their lips locked in a kiss. Jester broke the silence, cheering loudly as their friends and family joined in, the Nein far rowdier than the rest who clapped politely. They shakily added rings they’d picked out weeks ago, matching and complimentary to their previously decided on jewelry.

As they pulled back, Essek looked at Caleb who had tears running down his face and Essek swept them away as Caleb leaned up to kiss his forehead. Their family began to gather around and offer congratulations but Essek’s eyes couldn’t leave Calebs as the human cradled his face and whispered a simple, “I love you.” and Essek returned, having practiced the phrasing and pronunciation meticulously to get it right, “Ich liebe dich.” Caleb smiled and kissed him chastely again, before they opened up to their friends and began the nights’ festivities.

[saphirered]

Hi I was wondering if you would write an Essek x reader (gender neutral) where they are having a relaxing day out and the reader teaches Essek to make flower crowns, and it just allot of fluff and wholesome stuff.

Here you go! Enjoy. I really needed this type of wholesomeness. Thank you for the request. 😘

Seated among the plants and flowers at the base of the tree inside the Xhorhaus, you’re focussing on your surroundings, eyes closed. A meditation-like state keeps you grounded and aware of all around you regardless of lack of visual. Every breath you take makes you feel much lighter, floating in your own consciousness. It’s a comfortable and familiar feeling.

It could have been minutes, or hours. You’re not entirely sure but at least you know if someone needs you or you’ll be going somewhere, your friends will come get you. For now you were blessed with a moment of peace, away from the troubles of the world outside, shielded by the colourful flowers, fresh smell of herbs and the soft glow of the fairy lights.

But your peace and quiet was interrupted. Usually you’re very much aware of footsteps approaching, but when the individual doesn’t walk, taking care to avoid the greens, you’re left a oblivious to the presence. The clearing of a throat makes you nearly jump out of your skin.

“My apologies. I don’t mean to interrupt you…” You see the sheepish expression of the white haired wizard floating at a comfortable distance, turn apologetic.

“Essek!” You breathe trying to calm your pounding heart, hand to your chest.

“I am so sorry. I did not mean to scare you. I should have announced my presence.” The mixture of embarrassment and regret remain present in both his behaviour and voice as you get up and give him a once over.

“It’s quite alright. I didn’t expect any visitors.” You smile assuring him no harm was done as you get to your feet brushing off your trousers. Essek is a hard to read individual but even the most oblivious of people could tell something is off. Strange. You tilt your head pressing your lips together.

“Is everything alright? You seem a bit out of it if I’m honest.” Essek’s eyes fall to the floor in front of him trying to find the correct words to answer your question; unusual for someone usually so quick with words. You take a few steps closer to him and take his hand in yours giving it a squeeze letting him know you’re there as you wait for his reply.

“I… I am unsure how to phrase this correctly nor in an appropriate way.” He speaks caught in his own mind still. His eyes are searching still focussed on the ground and your entwined hands. You place your free hand on his shoulder, the gesture pulling him out of his head and instead focus on you.

“Try me.”

“I-. This day- These last few… weeks, have been absolute chaos. With everything going on I have not had a moment of peace in a long time.” Essek’s shoulders drop and his feet touch the ground with a soft tap muted by the mossy floor. You pity him. So young and so much pressure, people depending on him. No one should have to deal with all of that alone.

“I’ve always found diving into my work head first ignoring the world contained the chaos and turned it into order instead, something I could control but now I cannot even read a single sentence, transcribe a single equation or confront a single person without feeling like my mind is about to explode.” A weight lifts by the mere vocalising of the words, tension dropping from Essek’s physique as it does from his mind.

“I didn’t know who else to turn to. For some reason, you always have an air of calmness, around you. Whenever we are in the same space, you radiate peace. It’s strange to admit but I think even only spending but moments in your presence now has done more than any and everything I have tried to achieve even a semblance of rest.” You’re not used to Essek being so open and upfront with anyone but you’re glad for it. Knowing you can confide in someone and trust them is one thing. Actually doing so, something else entirely.

“Thank you for your time and once more my sincere apologies for scaring you. I will leave you to your business once more.” Essek is about to pull his hand from yours taking a step back but you don’t let go and step with.

“When’s the last time you’ve taken a break, Shadowhand?” You’re sure you already know the answer or have enough of an idea to estimate but you ask nonetheless. Essek thinks for a moment and frowns.

“I can’t recall.”

“There’s your problem then. You’re stressed, overworked and in desperate need of a break. Come on. I have an idea.” You lightly tug at his hand pulling him along to the base of the tree and sit him down. You take one of the garden scissors and begin cutting some flowers, branches and other things and collect them in a wicker basket as Essek watches you move from planter to planter and pots making sure to leave enough behind and take only what the plants themselves allow you to take.

It might seem a little strange to some, as you’re standing there, a nonverbal conversation with plant life. Some might think you’re crazy but you only acknowledge life in all forms and while you surely could wave your hand and restore what you took, there’s beauty in the natural order of things as your Firbolg friend might agree.

Essek watches you go in awe, studying your every action with an admiration. Before, as he admitted, there had been the radiating calmness from you that could affect those around you but watching you interact, for the lack of a better word, with the greenery, gave that a whole new meaning. Serenity. You are serenity itself.

You take the wicker basket, now filled with flowers of every colour, branches of green and brown of varying lengths, set it down at the base of the tree taking a seat next to Essek.

“What’s this for?” Essek picks up a yellow flower spinning it between his fingers.

“This,” You refer to the basket and the flower held between his fingers. “is how I clear my mind when the pressure of the world becomes too much to handle.” You take a couple of the branches, check the lengths and start twisting and weaving them together adding flowers into the coil as you go.

“This is how you keep the chaos at bay?” Essek questions watching your fingers work braiding together the delicate material.

“People often assume peace is the absence of chaos but it’s not. Nor is order. If you build a dam the pressure of the water will continue building as long as the water flows. You can’t stop it. You can’t prevent it. You can however shape it in such ways you gain more from it than it from you. It can be found in the simplest of things.” You weave in some deep red roses, your pride as the Xhorassian environment is not kind enough for them to survive.

“Whenever the world comes crashing down and I wish the ground would swallow me whole I find a place to sit down and let myself be consumed by my surroundings. Sometimes I just sit doing nothing at all. Other times I draw, or sing or write, and when I’m lucky enough to find just the right place, I’ll make as many of these as it takes me to return to my peace.” You come to the end twisting the final branches to complete the final circle shape, inspecting your work and adjusting as necessary until you deem it truly completed.

“Whenever I use the chaos to create, little by little serenity comes along and I try to bring that feeling along, passing it on to those around me, because gods know, they can use it.” The both of you smile and with a last adjustment of a flower you place the flower crown on Essek’s head.

Confusion, happiness, delight, peace. All emotions running through Essek’s brain throughout this conversation enhanced the moment you place the ornament of braided and woven flowers onto his head, as light as a feather. Who knew something so small and… insignificant could mean so much, do so much?

“Why don’t you try it for yourself? See if this works for you? Or perhaps if not, it might give you inspiration to find something that will.” Essek nods taking the red crown off his head and inspecting it closer. While he certainly has an eye for intricate patterns and structures the construction of such a thing as a simple flower crown goes far beyond him and instead just leaves him completely oblivious and confused.

Seeing Essek trying to figure out the collective of braided flowers and branches might have been one of the funniest things you’ve seen from the man. The intricacies of Dunamis and the most difficult of equations or studies prove next to no problem for the wizard, but a flower crown manages to break him? How could that not be funny. You laugh even though you tried to fight it and Essek sends you a playful glare.

“Since you seem to find this so funny perhaps I should teach you the many complexities of advanced Dunamis? As a thank you of course.” You can see the hints of a smile.

“However much I’d love that, for the sake of both of our peace and sanities, I’d hold off on that for now. We’ll start with something much simpler. Like a daisy chain.” You begin pulling out a pile of white flowers and putting them next to the basket.

“This is how you start…” You begin explaining how to loop the stem of the flower around the one that came before it, the closer together, the denser the chain will become.

While Essek struggles at first, your explanation and guiding hands and pointers as he works result in a decent looking daisy chain. You slowly work your way up to more difficult flowers and eventually the branches, spending the next several hours going through the motions, Essek’s troubles long since forgotten. This may have been the first time but won’t be the last time both of you find your serenity and comfort in colourful soft petals.

[peach-the-owl]

I am sorry but after this I need more Essek and child stuff. You can't just leave me hanging there. Give me home life with Essek and his now child. Vacation time! Fun time! I need everything please! The child reader getting like there first crush or something later on and he is like "That adorable, no." I just need some more please. Anything. I will love it.

The fic was great. I loved it. Please give me more serotonin.

Ask and ye shall receive! I know this took a long time to get around to finishing, but I rewrote the plot like 3 times or so until I got to this end result. With that I thank you for the patience and I hope it was worth the wait 😁

Worth

Essek & Child!Sorcerer!Reader

Getting to live with Essek was a quick and easy adjustment seeing as you already spent quite a lot of time in eachothers company. The only big change being to have to meet his mother and gain her approval, it was honestly very nerve wracking to meet the woman so you presented yourself to the best of your abilities. Essek himself was very nervous on the outcome but being on your best behaviour and displaying some of what you were capable of doing seemed to put you in their good graces and you were welcomed into Den Thelyss, much to Essek’s relief. The days went on as usual but you soon noticed the stress Essek was putting himself in from all the hard work he does day in and day out.

"You need a break." You blurt out unexpectedly one morning.

"Pardon?" He looks at you questioningly.

"You work so hard all the time, I think you need to take a break and we have a fun day just for ourselves." You say with a smile.

"You almost sound like my brother." He sighs, scratching at the back of his neck.

"Well he's right." Essek just gives you a playful side look, you just cross your arms. "Oh, please? You deserve it and we'd get to spend more time together without your job getting in the way. Come on, pretty please?" You quickly uncross your arms and look at him with big pleading eyes that you know by now he has a hard time saying no to. After a minute he lets out a quiet sigh.

"As much as I’d love say yes, you and I both know my position wouldn’t allow it." You pout a little but give a small nod, he was right but that didn’t mean you had to like it. The days went on and more work started piling up for Essek were it would now cut into any personal time or any teachings he’d normally have with you, Essek would also leave for long periods of time without telling you where or why. You grew worried, after everything you went through in hopes of spending more time with him it was like none of that mattered anymore, making you feel like you didn’t matter anymore.

You started to try and take your mind off of things by studying in the library but let’s face it, you can only read books for so long before you start to feel restless and need to do something else for entertainment. This leads to you focusing more on practicing with your own magic, if there was one thing that you thought could help prove you're still worth Essek’s time it was magic. Of course this didn’t suddenly stop the work load the poor man had but it kept you occupied at least. However you were starting to develop a nasty habit of overexerting yourself, you having figured since Essek worked so hard all the time you could do double as much seeing as you were a sorcerer, ending the day feeling extremely exhausted with several glowing runes appearing on your skin.

This went on for some time and slowly it was starting to take a toll on you until one day it all came crashing down at once. You were practicing both offence and defence with a soldier who agreed to help you with practice, saying they also needed more of their own practice against magic users. You were feeling a little lightheaded but brushed it off, thinking nothing much from it, you’ve been lightheaded before so if you ignore it it’ll go away by itself. It didn’t go away, it just got worse making you become unsteady and everything was starting to spin around you. Your visions blurs and you suddenly topple to the ground, only making out moving shapes and the muffled sound of someone frantically calling your name before you lose complete consciousness…

When you manage to open your eyes again you find yourself back in your room in bed, looking over you see a nice bowl of soup on the little bedside table, still warm and waiting to be eaten. You sit up to enjoy the meal knowing time and effort was put into it before carefully climbing out of bed to make your way out of your room. You decide to head over to Essek’s study room, figuring he’d probably be working in there, you enter and sure enough there he sat a book in hand. Upon hearing you enter he almost immediately closes the book and places it down, that was certainly the fastest you’ve seen him redirect his attention before. Neither of you say anything right away, Essek just stands from his chair and hovers over to you, scooping you up into his arms and makes his way to sit down again.

"Mind telling me what exactly was going through your mind when you decided to give me a heart attack?" There was some firmness to his voice with genuine concern laced in.

"I-I don’t know." You fidget with your hands a little trying not to look him in the eyes.

"Yes you do (y/n), so please just tell me what’s wrong." He lifts your chin up making it so you look at him, seeing your glossy eyes, a few tears already sliding down your face.

"You work so hard and are so busy all the time you never have enough time for me anymore. I thought that now that I get to stay with you we’d have more time to play or at least teach me more about magic, but instead it’s like you now have less time for me. I just, I don’t know, thought that if I work as hard as you do you’d see that I'm still worth your time. But I guess I was just being stupid." You duck your head down from him again once you’d finished your little rant.

"You are still young and still developing your abilities, pushing yourself like that isn’t going to…" He trails off and you hear a sigh come form him, feeling his grip on you tighten a little. "I blame myself for this," you stare at him confused but let him continue. "Had I known my actions would lead to you doing this to yourself I would’ve done something sooner, I should’ve done something regardless. I suppose I have gotten so used to having you around I began to see you less as my student and more as simply a new constant in my life." He pauses and places a hand to his forehead, shaking his head in disappointment at himself. "I let myself go about the day by day blindly without considering how it could effect you and because of this I was neglecting you." He was the one to look away from you now, resisting the urge to let any tears fall.

"Hey, it’s okay." You try to comfort.

"I don’t think it is, I haven’t been treating you the way you deserve to be, made you think you had to prove something you didn’t. Of course you’re worth my time, you’re worth much more to me then I ever could’ve imagined possible and I let you down. I am so terribly sorry." He looked so defeated, like he was now the one thinking he wasn’t worth your time. You reach up and give him a comforting hug, feeling him tense slightly before returning it.

"I know you’re not perfect like you try to be for everyone." You start, nestling yourself into his chest more. "But that’s okay, you don’t have to be for me. I like you as yourself, and that’s what matters. Still would like to spend more time with you though." You mumble the last part but he still hears you giving a small chuckle.

"Tell you what, I’ll talk to the Bright Queen about getting myself a free day, like you once suggested or at the very least compromise to have less work on my plate and more time to teach you. How does that sound?" He gives you a small smile, you give him a bigger one in return. With that he tries to stand but you let out a small whine in protest, tightening your grip on him a little. "I thought you liked the idea." He gives you a slight confused look.

"I do, but you can do that later, don’t go yet, please." You give him your big eyed stare, it didn’t take long for him to agree this time. You curl yourself up against him more as he soothingly brushes your hair back, the calming motion eventually putting you to sleep.

[simplesoupsandappletarts]

"This is the most ridiculous use of my time"

Click here for Chapter 2 of "To Catch That Star", my little mermaid shadowgast au.

“This is the most ridiculous use of my time.”

“Live a little, Essek; when was the last time you let your hair down?”

Essek raised an eyebrow at Verin. “My hair is too short to be let down.”

Verin rolled his eyes, adjusting his own hair in the mirror in a fruitless attempt to make the long locks sit still. “See, that is why you should come. Learn some new expressions, meet some new people.”

“I don’t need to meet new people.” Essek waved a hand, and fixed Verin’s hair for him, causing it to lie perfectly over his shoulder. “I know enough people in my life.”

“You need friends.”

“I have friends.”

“Name them.”

Essek narrowed his eyes.

[thepetulantpen]

Two Librarians in Armageddon

(Day 5 of @shadowgastweek! Only had time for one fic this week, but after I read this prompt my brain said Pacific Rim AU and would not leave me alone until I wrote this. It’s pretty long, so here’s the ao3 link.)

(Pacific Rim AU, featuring the wizards as scientists!)

Caleb would not say he’s fond of working with others, let alone sharing his lab.

Solitary work is more in his nature, but after years of sharing close-quarters with Veth- and after getting adjusted to Jester, in general- he’s learned to tolerate, even enjoy, having company while he’s working. His friends have more than prepared him for anyone else he’ll have to work with; they’ve ensured that he’ll be hanging onto his habits of keeping anything important secured, in the event of an unexpected explosion, and of guarding his coffee with his life, in the event of poorly-timed pranks.

He does not think his new lab partner will be bringing any unstable explosives, or sugary abominations to replace his coffee with.

From what he’s been told, the new addition to their little pre-apocalypse team is a physicist working on tech for a competing company, someone far outside Caleb’s scope. The fact that they still have competing companies of mech-developers while there are aliens bursting from the sea to eat them is a nightmare all its own, but the writhing horrors of capitalism are a beast that science, and the Kaiju guts strewn across the table before him, has proved ineffective against.

The truce between them, in the interest of allowing powerful Jaegers to work together, is an uneasy and temporary one. Caleb, personally, doesn’t think it’ll last beyond one or two failures. He just hopes they won’t fall back into the slew of sabotages that plagued them at the beginning of their downward spiral, before everyone realized the world may actually be ending.  

The rather small detail of imminent Armageddon has made his preference, or lack thereof, for company inconsequential. In the long run- or short, if they don’t manage a major breakthrough soon- his opinions as an introvert are insignificant.

It’s not all bad- as an innately curious person, the opportunity to meet someone just as experienced as him in the field of Kaiju is fascinating. Particularly considering that their specialization is so different; he’s almost looking forward to the new insight. He’d even be excited if it wasn’t for the subject matter.

It can be challenging to be enthusiastic about the driving force of the apocalypse.

He digs deeper into the partially collapsed chunk of Kaiju ribcage in front of him, no longer bothered by his poor choice of distraction. It’s a misnomer to call it a ribcage, given that the Kaiju do not have bones in the classical sense, but it’s close enough in location to approximate. He’d rather have a brain to work with, though he’ll settle for what he can get. Storing Kaiju is difficult, with their accelerated rate of rot once exposed to the air- if he’s not careful, his work could be reduced to ash in an hour.

He needs to catalogue the differences between this corpse and the last, pinpointing patterns in organ placement. The work is dull, while still requiring his full concentration to avoid puncturing any of the many, many inexplicably acidic organs. If he wasn’t already good friends with the base’s medics, he would’ve been taken off this job long ago.

Once he’s elbow-deep in a Kaiju, he stops paying attention to the door. He does not notice the knocking, nor the quiet greeting, nor the faint whir of machinery as his new colleague hovers through the doorway.

“Should you be touching that? It looks toxic.”

Caleb jumps at the voice beside him and the scalpel in his hand jerks, cutting into the mystery organ he’d been considering removing. Something vaguely liquid hits his wrist above the glove and he waits two seconds to see if it’ll burn, before deciding he probably doesn’t need to run screaming to the nearest med station.

“It’s fine,” he mutters, partially in response and partially to himself. “I know what I’m doing.”

He looks down, towards his new colleague, who, at first glance, is thoroughly unimpressed at that lie.

He sits in a wheelchair- minus the wheels, as it hovers gently off the ground, coming to about the same height the wheels would give it. Clearly a new model- hovering technology aside- it’s a sleek, minimalist white, matching his equally sleek, swept back white hair. The high turtleneck and overly formal coat allow Caleb to immediately peg him as somewhat uptight. Near-apocalypse has made formality rare.

Caleb hurries to wash his hands, finding the nearby sink labelled for nasty, potentially lethal chemical disposal. “I was told you’d arrive today, but,” he glances up at the dingy lab clock, the glass cracked from Veth’s last visit, “I didn’t imagine it’d be so soon. It’s, uh, a bit of a mess.”

“I’ve seen worse,” he says, unconvincingly, and changes track, “That desk is mine, yes?”

There’s only one other desk in the room, moved there sometime yesterday after Caleb, under threat from his superiors, managed to shift away some of the boxes that line the walls. It’s only a small space, but it’s the cleanest part of the room.

The question, he reasons, is rhetorical, but Caleb nods anyway. He considers that answer enough- though the other man doesn’t move, staring at him expectantly. He’s oddly expressive, his attempts to keep a completely straight face only making any slipups, like the annoyed twitch of his eyebrow, more obvious.

It makes it easy to see the exact moment his patience runs out.

“I’m sure you were informed, but,” here, he looks to the side, dodging Caleb’s returning attention, “for the sake of introductions, I am Essek Thelyss.”

Ah, so that’s what he’d forgotten. Caleb thinks it’s unfair that he had to fail miserably at one of the last introductions he will have made before the end of the world- surely, he could’ve had just one go smoothly.

“Oh- I’m Caleb,” he reaches out a hand, meeting Essek’s already extended one for a brief shake- his hands may be clean now, but Essek doesn’t look thrilled at the prospect of touching Kaiju guts, even  indirectly, “Caleb Widogast.”

Something unidentifiable passes over Essek’s expression- disappointment or judgement, perhaps, at not recognizing the name. Widogast is not printed on any books, nor is it associated with anything high-profile like Thelyss; strictly, it doesn’t exist at all.

That, or the smell of the rotting Kaiju getting to him.

As he watches Essek pause halfway across the room to clear his path, and again to widen the space around his desk, Caleb is hit with the vivid realization that this isn’t going to be an enlightening, academic experience, nor an uncomfortable few days of socialization. It’s going to be more than a bump in the alien-fueled crisis that is his current existence.

This is going to be a disaster.

…

“Widogast, do you have any idea where my notebook’s gone?”

It has only taken Caleb three days to be able to identify the various tones for annoyed in Essek’s voice. There’s this is a minor inconvenience and this is a major inconvenience and this is one of many annoying things I haven’t pointed out yet today, including, but not limited to, the ever-present stench of Kaiju flesh.

He can say, with relative confidence, that this falls into the latest category.

“Have you tried all your desk drawers?” he calls over his shoulder, knowing the question is unnecessary but stalling for time as he heaves the last of the Kaiju parts- partially burned and fragmented limbs, today- onto his work table.

Essek, unlike Caleb, is meticulously organized, never misplaces anything and files according to system that escapes Caleb, no matter how many times he tries to decode it. From Essek’s perspective, the rest of the lab is a dangerous no man’s land of abject chaos- though Caleb has never lost anything. He knows, precisely, where everything is, no piece of preserved alien fading from his memory. An organization system is pointless, when one has a photographic memory.

That is, until one has to share a lab with someone who bothers to keep track of their belongings.

He doesn’t wait for a response, already able to picture Essek behind him, sitting with his arms crossed and looking deeply disappointed by Caleb’s suggestion, which amounts to did you turn it on and off again? Leaving the still sealed Kaiju parts where they are, he turns back to his own desk.

After exonerating himself and Essek, the list of suspects for meddling with their desks is very short. The base, these days, is not the hub of activity it used to be, back when there were far more Jaeger pilots alive and far better morale. Their lab is typically empty, aside from Caleb and Essek, as few people are inclined towards the smell of dead Kaiju. Even the corporals, some of the rare higher-ups with clearance, can’t be bothered to visit more frequently than their mandatory check-ins.

He can only think of two people who clearance would not be an issue for.

“Is he handsome, Caleb?”

“I don’t think it would be professional—”

“He definitely is, Jessie.”

Before today, he’d thought that Jester and Veth hadn’t gotten around to the visit they’d been threatening; clearly, they’d taken the liberty while he wasn’t in. Veth knows better than to steal notebooks- she wouldn’t be interested in them, anyway- and Jester isn’t in the habit of taking things, only misplacing them.

Caleb hardly ever uses his own desk, preferring to leave his notebooks scattered over the lab tables, in easier reach. Only the older ones are still perched on his desk, in a precariously tall pile- but one notebook stands out from the rest, not quite as ratty and overstuffed as his own.

“Ah, here it is,” he holds it up, gesturing Essek over and trying not to look too sheepish- it is not, after all, his fault. As he hands it over, and quickly turns back to his work, he can only hope that Jester hasn’t doodled anything too embarrassing inside. “Jester must have misplaced it, while exploring the lab.”

“Jester?” Essek asks, eyebrows furrowing in something that would be irritation, if his expression wasn’t trained to be so stoic, “Is she supposed to have clearance here?”

“The medical staff have free reign, in case of incidents with hazardous material.” He glances back at Essek, who still looks confused, and remembers that not everyone is on a first-name basis with the medics. “Jester Lavorre. You might know Caduceus- that is, Mr. Clay- better. He’s the more… healing inclined, of the two.”

“Jester Lavorre,” Essek starts, slowly as he unpacks his own question, “regularly comes here to… explore? What, she just, rifles through your things?”

He is not sure how to explain the idea of Jester to someone who doesn’t know her.

Essek already looks delightfully confounded- a considerable a departure from his typical stern concentration. Caleb almost wants to thank Jester for pulling Essek away from the handheld chalkboards he spends his days bent over, lines of nearly indecipherable equations appearing and disappearing with only the smudge of chalk on Essek’s hands as evidence of their existence. Distracting Essek has proved to be a challenge- even the sounds of saws and the number of other unpleasant devices involved in Kaiju dissection don’t get Caleb so much as a glance.

He does not try to explain Jester, opting to shrug, instead. “She knows she can find me here, so she stays until I show up. Sometimes she gets bored.” It occurs to him that other people haven’t been prepped for company in the same way he has. It occurs to him that it is abnormal to brace for a scavenger hunt every time he enters the lab. “I suggest you leave your important documents in a locked drawer.”

He refrains from telling Essek that Veth can pick locks and that Jester has broken open desk drawers before (there was an incident involving a prank war, smuggling, and increasingly desperate hiding places). None of it seems particularly reassuring.

Essek gives him a strange look, but nods. “I will keep that in mind.”

“You might also find things that aren’t yours by your desk.” Caleb looks over his shoulder to see Essek still watching him. “Consider them gifts.”

“Like what?”

“Like…” Caleb pauses, realizing that none of the things he was about to list are work-appropriate, “Well, it could be anything.”

Caleb’s starting to worry that he might end up causing the rift between companies that leads to the end of the world- with his terrible first impression, and equally bad secondary impressions- but when a parasol shows up at Essek’s desk a day later, he does not ask Caleb where it came from.

He does, however, quietly ask Caleb to send along his thanks to Jester.

…

“I am not imagining that it smells particularly bad today, yes?”

Caleb has acquired, in part thanks to Veth, partial halves of two Kaiju hearts. Partial is the best they could manage, on account of the massive holes blown in the beasts’ chests. Nonetheless, he’s ecstatic- an opportunity like this, for a direct comparison, is rare.

Kaiju barbecue, as it turns out, does not smell very appetizing. It is what he would think a bucket of cleaning supplies set on fire would smell like, though it leaves the air with the unpleasant aftertaste of cheap fruit snacks.

“They’re a little charred,” he says, hiding a smile- they are far more than a little charred, “Veth’s testing out different chemical combinations for the Jaeger ammunition. I don’t think she’s quite nailed it yet.”

Essek scoffs, cautiously approaching the table with one hand over his nose and mouth, the other resting on the chair’s controls. “How many people of wildly different departments are you on a first-name basis with?”

“Just a few.” Thoroughly distracted with cutting away the burnt pieces, Caleb doesn’t look up. “There’s also, uh, Fjord. He captains one of the boats, works on deployment.”

“Somehow, that doesn’t surprise me.” A soft whir, as Essek hovers a few inches higher, putting him at a better height to peer over the table with Caleb. “Do you need any help?”

Caleb blinks, surprised, and almost drops the scalpel he was sanitizing. “Aren’t you busy?”

Essek, with his old-fashioned chalkboards in the place of far more convenient holograms, never leaves his desk, never so much as turns around to bounce a theory off of Caleb. It seems like there’s a new pack of chalk and fresh notebook on his desk every other day- clearly he’s making progress, but the bubble of focus around Essek is too intimidating for Caleb to investigate.

“I’ve reached a stopping point,” Essek frowns when Caleb looks at him, waiting for him to elaborate, and sighs, “I’m stuck on the particle displacement we’ve detected at the mouth of the rifts, which only seems to effect the Kaiju, not the pilots. It’s- I don’t think you’d be interested. I need something else to do, while I brainstorm.”

Caleb manages to bite back his disappointment at not getting to hear the rest and points towards the sink- the one safe for normal use, that doesn’t currently have corrosion scars from caustic acids. “I can definitely give you that.”

Essek, unsurprisingly, is incredibly helpful. He might not fully understand the process, but he’s precise in following Caleb’s instructions and doesn’t complain when he has to touch the gross, slimy parts. He generously interprets Caleb’s just put them over there to mean place them very carefully in straight lines. It only takes him a few minutes to get the hang of it, effortlessly following Caleb’s lead as they work in parallel on their respective halves of the hearts.

“I can’t say I understand the appeal,” Essek starts, after many minutes of silence, “but there’s certainly something to working with the actual thing, rather than theory.”

Caleb is working at a particularly tough piece- the Kaiju are, if nothing else, heavily armored, inside and out- the exposure to oxygen making everything harder to pull apart, to cut up and catalogue. He doesn’t look up at Essek’s words, but finds his attention easily split.

“It’s all about,” Caleb pushes down, again, and the muscles finally give, “manipulating the body, finding what makes it tick. From there, we can change it.”

“Like,” Essek pauses, hesitating, “change it from living to dead, you mean.”

Caleb huffs, almost under his breath, “In this circumstance, perhaps.”

To his side, he sees Essek’s hands still, briefly, and feels eyes on him as Essek looks up. Essek has this way of looking at him, like he’s waiting for something, until an invisible tell gives him away. He feels both studied and seen through.

Caleb can’t say he hates it.

“You don’t sound as happy about that as I’d expect. Normally, people are thrilled at the thought of dead Kaiju,” Essek gestures, with one gloved hand, over the table, “More for you.”

Caleb looks firmly down at the heart, imagining the many cross-sections and pieces still unmapped, in the burned away absence. “I just think that more can be done.”

“I suppose that’s one thing we can agree on.” Essek is already looking at him when Caleb looks up, so their eyes meet, “The other side of the rifts are far more interesting. There’s no telling what we could find, how we could progress- but we need those doors closed, if we’re going to be alive to enjoy that progress.”

“I don’t think it’s as simple as leaving them open or closed.”

Essek leans back over the heart, having found what he was looking for in Caleb’s expression, and mutters, almost to himself, “You might be right about that.”

Caleb doesn’t say anything else, just watches as Essek finishes with his portion of the heart. Essek’s hands, even with the borrowed plastic gloves, do not look like they belong amongst the controlled carnage of the lab table. Made for spinning chalk between fingers, and gliding across the holograms.

He lines up the scalpel again, just a bit off-target, just a bit too close to the arteries. “Ah, don’t—”

Caleb grabs Essek’s hand, stopping him before he pierces something he shouldn’t- the faint burns on his own hands are proof of this lesson learned. Essek freezes, startled by the contact, and grips the scalpel a little tighter before he catches up to what’s happened and pulls back.

Caleb lets him go, with some reluctance. “The blood is, uh, acidic. You have to cut around carefully, or it– you get the picture.”

“It’s good that you were watching, then,” Essek doesn’t smile, but his face suggests that he might have, if he possessed less self-control, “I owe you one, Widogast.”

Caleb does not possess that same control- he’s not sure what Essek hears in his voice as he says, “It’s no trouble.”

He thinks, in the end, he may have been more successful in distracting himself from his work, than he was in distracting Essek.

…

Caleb has reached the point where the crick in his neck from leaning over his work, the pages and pages of pieced together neural pathways and conflicting experiments, is threatening to make the hunch of his shoulders permanent. Essek cannot be in a much better place- Caleb glances over to catch him with his head in his hands, again, a half-filled chalkboard laying forlornly on his desk.

Caleb stands with no warning, letting his pen clatter on the table and pushing his chair away with more force than necessary. Essek looks up, alarmed and- unless Caleb’s imagining it- intrigued.

“Do you want to get out of here?”

Which is how they’ve found themselves on the steel catwalk above the Jaegers, high up in the hanger and out of sight of people who know they shouldn’t be here. Neither of them are stealthy enough to pull this off for long- the equivalent of two librarians, tiny amongst the massive machines that represent their only hope against Armageddon.

“It’s always weird to see them from up here.” The giant, unpiloted mechs seem to stare back at Caleb as they’re shifted into place. Empty eyes, visors with no life behind them. “Feels like we shouldn’t be looking at them eye-to-eye.”

Essek hums, and leans forward slightly, as close to the rails as he dares. “I’m more used to seeing them in diagrams.”

Caleb had known, in theory, that there must be a tangled web of physics behind the engineering of the Jaegers, but it’s different to know that Essek holds those secrets. He’d love nothing more than to pick his brain about it, even if it’s far outside his field. It’s a shame the hanger feels like an inappropriate place to host a high-detail physics lecture.

“It must be interesting, working with us. Thelyss has been, uh,” he hesitates, unsure if this is rude to point out, “forgive me for saying, rather at odds with Dwendalian interests.”

Essek is quiet for a moment, almost long enough for Caleb to pull the ripcord and apologize, before responding, “It has been interesting. It is… an opportunity, for me, to work for something greater than I have in the past.”

“In the past?”

“We have not been as,” he pauses, searching for the word, “kind as we should have, in sharing our designs. Many have failed to consider the state of the world in our quest for progress.”

Corporate sabotage in the race for mechs is something of a well-known secret. The extent of it is hidden, mostly, behind the veil of the destruction that it coincided with. Trading the right secrets to the wrong person could take you far- it just might mean leaving burning cities in your wake.

Essek, overlooking the last of the Jaegers, the vestiges of hope for the world, suddenly looks so tired, older than Caleb had seen him before now. It reminds of Caleb of his own reflection, at night when the manic layer of end of the world is wiped away to reveal exhaustion. Essek’s formality, the organized face he presents, functions as just another mask.

“I have made many mistakes. I am hoping-” Essek shakes his head, correcting himself, “All I can do is try again. To be better.”

Caleb cannot absolve him, cannot lift the weight of things unsaid, guilt anchored deeply. He can only stand there, at Essek’s side, and carry his own guilt.

“Leave it to the end of the world to show us that we can only move forward, until we run out of road.” Caleb tries for a smile, one Essek doesn’t match. “Sometimes, I’m not sure there’s still road. Feel like I’m drifting over the dirt, these days.”

Essek’s response, agreement or disagreement, is drowned out as they start shifting another of the Jaegers, the dragging of metal and old supports strained to their limits forming a din that has passerby covering their ears. Caleb watches its pilots stare up at it, unflinching in the noise.

He finds himself talking as the noise stops, filling the vacuum of silence, “I was almost one of them, you know.”

After he says it, he immediately regrets it. In one moment, it feels like the thing to do- share something personal, after Essek had taken the first step- and in the next, it feels like an entirely unnecessary can of worms. Because, of course, the next question is-

“Under who?”

Caleb swallows and considers lying. He could do it. He could keep it vague- he should, it should stay buried like his name. He’s not entirely sure why he doesn’t want to.

“Ikithon.”

He sees it, the second he says it. He sees the recognition, the surprise, the fear. Essek knows that name, more than anyone in passing knows that name. To Essek, he is not simply an unpleasant teacher.

He doesn’t want to see Essek as someone who worked with Ikithon- he doesn’t want to know what it means that he would forgive Essek, in a heartbeat, but can’t do same for himself.

“I wasn’t able to drift,” Caleb continues, and almost believes that’s the whole truth, the entire, uncomplicated reason, “Dropped out of the Academy.” Not before the damage was done.

Essek looks down, studying the grimy floor beneath them. “Probably for the best.”

“I’m starting to think we should’ve put our funding into time machines, instead of Jaegers.” Caleb sighs, and feels a part of himself leave with his breath. He looks to his side, where Essek remains silent. “Should’ve gone into physics, I guess.”

People rush around below them, preparing for another Jaeger to enter. The gate is cleared, the runway lights up, and various maintenance teams stand at the ready. Caleb wonders how they can stand this, how they can keep going through the motions every day, even as less and less pilots return.

He supposes he could say the same about himself, about anyone still coming to work on this base. For the first time in a long time, they’re all working towards the same thing. They’re all looking to the pilots, spending what’s left of their lives to stack the deck in their favor.

“I know a few of them,” Caleb pauses, and clarifies, “The pilots, I mean.”

“You failed to mention that, in your list of people you know.” Essek tries to laugh, though it doesn’t quite come out right, and looks back up at Caleb, “Which ones?”

“I’m not sure you know them.” People in their position don’t generally interact with the pilots, directly. Caleb would say it’s strange for him to have friends in the Academy, but it’s not the weirdest connection he’s made recently. “Yasha and Beau on the Cobalt line. They’re only just out of the Academy.”

Only just out and making a formidable reputation for themselves. He’s only skimmed the statistics, but if there was a leaderboard, he’d say they’re pulling ahead. Knowing Beau, that’s greater motivation than the potential for saving the world.

Essek’s façade falls away completely, showing his surprise. “The two terrifying women in the Expositor?”

“Those are the ones,” Caleb leans against the railing, out of the shadows. A little more bold, now that most of the people below are distracted. A massive Jaeger, with chipping blue paint and massive jets affixed to its back, steps in through the gate, tracking in water around its heels. “Speak of the devil.”

He can imagine Beau and Yasha working in tandem, seamlessly, to bring the mech into the hanger, ducking its head slightly to make it under the doorway. One hand is occupied, clenched around a scaly leg, metal fingers dug into the fallen Kaiju’s flesh. It’s oddly small, not the fully grown beasts Caleb is used to seeing them drag through.

“Is that-“ Essek doesn’t finish his question, perhaps because he can see the answer in Caleb’s expression.

The Kaiju’s head is entirely intact, its skull spared at the expense of a hole in its chest. A full brain, no shrapnel or missing pieces. Exactly what Caleb has been waiting for, exactly what he’s been trying to piece together.

Essek follows at his heels as Caleb dashes for the stairs, stealth forgotten altogether.

…

The whirring of saws and grim, grinding sounds of bone being cut come to an end, at long last. There’s a tube prepped, filled with foul-smelling chemicals intended to preserve and suspend alien flesh. The sound, as the brain is deposited, is somehow worse than the grinding noise.

Essek looks at him, watching silently for a long moment. It is difficult, to feel his eyes on him and not look back, but Caleb manages it, keeping his gaze focused on the mass of nerves before him.

“I understand the temptation.”

Caleb laughs, with no humor. “Do you?”

The headset is light, almost flimsy, in his hands. He passes it between them, running his hands over the familiar metal and wires. It looks like it might fall apart any second now, not at all like it’s made of expensive, stolen equipment. Not all like Caleb’s been thinking about it for months, like it could save them all- if he can pull this off.

The Kaiju’s brain floats in the container in front of him, wires trailing off of it. Essek sits beside it, the filtered green light through the tube casting harsh shadows over his face. He’s not supposed to be here, but Caleb should’ve known that Essek wouldn’t stick to his scheduled breaks.

“I know more about temptation than you, Caleb.”

It’s rare to hear Essek angry- figures that he chooses a time like this to finally call Caleb by his first name.

“Then you should know that I can’t pass up this opportunity.” Caleb clicks the final pieces into place, watching the lights on the headset start to glow. He loses the fight against another temptation and glances over to Essek, who looks to be fighting fiercely not for a neutral expression, but to keep back tears. “I will not have more lives on my conscience. If this could win us the fight, I have to do it.”

He reaches for the control panel, lifting the headset with his other hand. He has to get this over with before he loses his nerve, before Essek decides to find someone who might actually be able to stop him, before Jester or Veth or anyone else stumble upon him

Essek grabs his wrist, stopping him. His eyes are wide, a little surprised at himself, but he meets Caleb’s stare dead-on.

“I don’t want to lose you to this,” he clears his throat, and looks down, away, “We all still need you.”

Even now, they can’t help but lie to themselves.

“I have to do this.”

Essek looks back at him and for once, seems frustrated to be unable to peer behind Caleb’s eyes, to get the answers he always does. He looks to the side with a heavy sigh, and Caleb thinks for a moment that he’s given up, that he’s going to agree, when Essek lets go of his hand to reach behind them, to the lab table still covered in wires and abandoned tech.

Many drafts of the headset sit amongst the wreckage, the results of late nights spent working with a collection born of Veth’s sticky fingers and Caleb’s hoarding. Essek grabs one, easily picking out the most functional of the bunch, and presses it into Caleb’s free hand.

“Fine,” his face sets, not in the neutral that Caleb’s come to expect, but in a determination that feels almost dangerous, “Then I’m coming with you.”

Essek’s eyes are a dare, waiting for Caleb to find a reason to deny him. He knows, as well as Caleb, that two of them would increase their chances of surviving this. He also knows, maybe better than Caleb, that none of that matters. Caleb would always rather take the brunt of it, than allow his friends to hurt.

This feels, distinctly, like an argument Caleb can’t win. Essek looks a few seconds away from hooking it up himself.

Caleb sighs, a faint smile escaping him. “Didn’t think you’d be repaying that favor so soon.”

Essek only pushes the headset more firmly into his hands, though it’s hard to tell whether he’s safe-guarding against Caleb losing his nerve, or losing his own nerve.

Caleb puts Essek’s headset on first, taking longer than necessary to adjust its fit, before putting on his own. They sit across from each other, in the distorted shadow of the brain. Essek’s gaze, fixed on Caleb, doesn’t waver and just before Caleb hits the switch, he holds out his hand.

Caleb takes it and turns on the machine.

The drift hits him immediately, like a weight falling on his brain as something too big climbs into his skull and pushes his mind out to the edges, pressed against bone. Everything else, outside of his mind and Essek’s mind and this new intrusion, disappears entirely. Sensation, apart from a terrible, sourceless pain, leaves him.

Essek’s mind bursts into focus like a searing light in the abyss, a star far above him. Caleb reaches for it, as the mind of the Kaiju, oppressive and all-consuming, threatens to swallow him up.

He feels their connection like entwined hands, before they collapse into each other, blurring into one. Warm and cool colors mix together in threads that wind and wind around until they are one inseparable string. Shared pain is conducted through it, a wire of strange electricity.

He is hearing a city on fire, screaming, and imagines he can pick out familiar voices in the chaos.

He is shaking a hand like a corpse, bony and terrible as its fingernails dig into his skin.

He is on a cold tile floor, aware that he is alone, alone, alone—

Somewhere, outside of himself, he squeezes Essek’s hand.

The Kaiju bears down on both of them and he finds himself standing beside Essek on a destroyed city street, its features a mashed together version of Caleb and Essek’s childhoods. It is too much for either of them, even standing together, but when he looks down at Essek, he sees only his smile, sharp and confident.

Everything begins to dissolve as the mind- the many minds- of the Kaiju falls over them.

…

Waking up is not fun.

Once, in grad school, Caleb stayed up for 52 hours, subsisting on diabolical combinations of energy drinks and pure spite for his professors. After turning in his last assignments, including a paper that served as a major breakthrough in his field but was so manic it was incomprehensible to anyone except Caleb, he crashed hard and did not wake for another day, when Veth checked to see if he was still alive.

He could’ve sworn, at the time, that the headache he felt upon seeing light for the first time that day was the worst he’d ever experience.

This headache easily doubles it.

The lights are, mercifully, left completely off, with only the dim sunlight leaking out from under the blinds turning the infirmary room a dull grey. He’s sat, partially upright, on the thin mattress of the hospital bed, a place he knows well. Outside the room, he can just make out the quiet, constant noise of their busy med station, conversation and machines overlapping.

To his right, similarly propped up, is Essek.

He wakes at the same moment as Caleb and they both turn, surprise mirrored in their faces. At seeing each other, at being alive at all- it’s anybody’s guess.

Objectively, Caleb is sure they both look absolutely terrible, but he can only see the light in Essek’s eyes and his tired smile. There’s a drowsy kind of comfort between the two of them, relief of tension being let go. They lived- they both lived.

“This is not the warm welcome to the land of the living I was hoping for.”

Caleb laughs, even if it hurts, a little. “This feels less like a welcome party, and more like breaking a window and climbing back in.”

There’s no connection between them anymore, no wires or drifts, but he still feels it faintly, a buzzing at the back of his head. Essek’s pain feels like an echo of his own, and his warmth is still there, as if he’s still holding his hand. It’s stable, an anchor to new wakefulness.

“They should’ve known better than to put two of us in the same lab.” Essek shakes his head, and winces at the movement. “It could only ever have ended in disaster.”

Caleb grins and is pleased to see Essek do the same, just as unguarded as he was in the drift.

They only have a few minutes before Jester comes in to yell at him for being stupid- possibly, the whole crew is lined up somewhere outside, lists of grievances in hand. Shortly following that, he assumes there will be a small battalion of military personnel waiting to hear what they’ve discovered.

Until then, he has time to do more stupid things, mostly unsupervised.

He drags himself out of the bed, pretending that he doesn’t nearly collapse as soon as his feet hit the floor, and wheels the bed closer to Essek’s, carefully maneuvering the wires still attached to his chest and arms. Once they’re an arm’s length away, Caleb stops and climbs back in.

This time, he holds his hand out first and knows, without a doubt, that Essek will take it.

[sockablock]

When in sudden need of a place to stay, Caleb Widogast finds a room for rent at a price so low he can’t believe his luck. Ignoring the concerns of his friends, he moves in and quickly finds himself tangled up in the life of one Essek Thelyss, a reclusive scholar who may be even stranger than Caleb himself...

(start) - (previous) - (next)

Chapter 2: A Name to the Face

The sun lanced arcs across Caleb’s face as he set his phone down on the nightstand, and yawned.

He’d gotten used to sleeping in strange places during the last few years of his life, and there was a part of him that missed the coziness of his room back in his and Nott’s apartment. But the other part of him, namely the part comprised of bruises from too-narrow walls—relished in this chance to stretch out a little.

Eventually, he managed to sit up. The mattress did not dip sullenly with his weight, indicative of its newness and quality.

He glanced around. The door was closed, though Frumpkin was nowhere to be seen. Then again, mundane cats were already hard enough to confine; as a feline of the fey persuasion, Frumpkin went where Frumpkin pleased.

Caleb took his sweet time making the bed, adjusting the blinds, peering out the window over quiet streets, before eventually rifling through his cardboard boxes for something proper to wear. He also made a mental note to, at some point, ask Mr. Thelyss how the laundry worked.

Then he straightened his collar, took a deep breath, and wandered out into the kitchen.

—

Jester was nose-deep in a box of cinnamon rolls when Beauregard emerged from the shower. Peals of steam curled past the doorframe and dissipated out into the hallway.

“I thought those were supposed to last us the week,” Beau said when she noticed her roommate. “Didn’t we decide we wouldn’t go back to the bakery until Thursday?”

“Oh, but Beau,” icing shimmered in the corner of Jester’s mouth. “Beau, they’re just so tasty. I can’t resist.”

Beauregard pulled the towel off her head and gave her hair one last muss-up. Then she slung herself backwards into a chair and stole some frosting.

“Fair enough,” she licked a finger. “Just be sure to save something for Yasha when she gets back.”

“Back?” Jester’s cheerful demeanor vanished. “Oh, no, did she leave again? I thought she was done doing that!”

“Oh, no she didn’t run off, I think she just went to some errands, or something?” Beau scratched the side of her head. “She mentioned something about seeing a butcher.”

“Oh.” Jester relaxed. “Well that’s alright, then. Though we don’t really cook much.”

“Maybe she’s trying something new. It’s better than eating rats all the time, right?”

Jester gave this due consideration. “I think she only did that once. And then Fjord threw up, so she decided to stop.”

“Hm,” Beau shrugged. “I guess that’s nice of her. Oh, hey, speaking of stopping, what the hell is up with Caleb? Has he responded? With pictures and actual information?”

Jester groaned. “He’s being a real butt about it. He’s obviously there, but he isn’t sending us anything good.”

Beau raised a cinnamon roll. “The bastard.”  

— 

In the light of day, Mr. Thelyss’s kitchen gleamed with tidiness and disuse. In fact, it seemed like only the coffeemaker and microwave ever got any attention from their owner.

Caleb added another step to his mental moving day to-do-list: find the nearest grocery store and get some cereal. And coffee. And maybe a loaf of bread, if he was feeling extravagant.

He settled instead for pouring himself a glass of water and vowing that he would at least pick up lunch once he actually ventured outside. He slid into the kitchen, found a neutral-looking glass cup, and filled it up in the sink.

When he turned, he realized that something was different about the counter.

The little box of cheesecake was gone.

There was a note left, however. It read: Thank you very much, Mr. Widogast.

So, Caleb thought to himself. This meant that his mystery landlord had come home at some point in the night. And…as his gaze drifted past the kitchen and over to the front door of the apartment…yes, there in the foyer was a pair of shoes and a fine, but thin, black cloak.

Caleb had never seen anything like it before. It seemed as if the pattern had been designed to almost be worn like some kind of long poncho. Its hem brushed just over the floor.

What kind of person would wear something like this? The amused thought of vampire briefly flickered through his mind, but he shook it off and chalked it up to spending too much time with Jester.

He glanced back at the note. Something in him also registered: charmingly polite.

He shook his head. Speaking of Jester, he still had a promise to fulfill…

— 

“Fjord, those are ugly.”

“What? I think they look nice—”

“Nice won’t cut it! I need something amazing! It’s been months since I’ve last seen Yeza. I have to really blow him away.”

“Look, what you see is what we’ve got. And anyway, what’s wrong with Delphiniums—”

Nott was standing on a small turquoise stool that some of the more vertically-challenged customers of the Blooming Grove required to reach the counter. Her finger was swaying dangerously underneath the nose of a long-time friend and even longer-time frenemy, Fjord, currently on register duty.

All around them, the sweet and mellow scent of dozens upon dozens of coastal flowers twirled and trilled and danced through the air. Large windows set into the pale green walls let in sunlight and a view of the gardens out back.

“They’re blue!” Nott screeched. “I don’t want blue, Yeza’s going to think I’m not happy to see him!”

“Everyone likes blue,” Fjord said defensively. “Just look at Jester. She’s practically got a fan club. Fine, fine,” he added, when her expression didn’t change, “I can do you some roses—”

“Roses are cliché.”

“They’re a goddamn symbol of love, Nott.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, but I don’t just want a symbol of love, I want a symbol of…of passion. Of devotion. Of l—”

“Look, just wait a bit, and Caduceus will be back. He’s the one who actually knows the names of all these things,” Fjord sighed. “He’ll be able to tell you if those even are Delphiniums.”

There was a moment’s pause.

“How have you managed to keep this job, Fjord?”

“I don’t have to help you, you know.”

“Technically, I think you d—"

And then, their phones buzzed.

—

— 

Nott glanced back at Fjord.

“Do you think he doesn’t know?”

Fjord shrugged. “Let’s just see what he says.”

Nott groaned. “It’ll probably be hours until we find out.”

—

—

“He’s going to die tonight, then,” said Beau, kicking off her sneakers. The front door shut behind her with a click. “That’s, like, the first rule to committing a crime. Don’t let them see your face.”

“I think it’s kind of romantic,” Jester said. Now she was in the living room, sprawled across the couch. “It’s like…a forbidden meeting. Maybe he’ll never find out what Essie looks like. Isn’t that sad?”

“Essek,” Beau corrected, and set her keys aside. “And I don’t see what’s so sad about that.”

“Oh, but it is,” Jester lavished in her sigh. “The saddest and loneliest kind of thing. To never see who you’re living with? If you can’t even put a face to the name, you might as well be sharing your house with a ghost.”

Beau raised an eyebrow. “That’s…a little dramatic, but I see what you mean. Anyway, this is a point against the guy. In my books, that is. And I’m keeping track.”

“Oh? How many points does he have?”

Beau joined her on the couch and crossed her arms. “Not many. He’s mysterious, and weird. Those are negatives. Standoffish, if he didn’t even greet Caleb on the first day. And if he isn’t a criminal, and is actually renting out a place that cheap, he must be a total idiot. Or desperate.”

“For what?” Jester asked.

She shrugged. “Who knows? The company?”

— 

Essek was, as a matter of fact, quite desperate. Desperate for another five minutes of sleep.

It was now long after the Mighty Nein had given up on their interrogation, though he was not aware of this. Instead, what was most on his mind was the strange…the odd vibrating right next to his head.

Blindly, he reached out to slap his alarm. His hand connected, but the noise did not stop.

Then he realized that it was coming from the other side of the bed.

He shuffled around to take a peek.

An eye was staring back at him. Large and blue.

“What in the name of the L—”

The cat yawned, and its mouth stretched open to reveal rows of teeth.

Essek hesitated. He rubbed his face.

“How did…what is…”

And then the puzzle pieces slid into place.  

He racked his brain for the name.

“F…Fr…Frumpkin?” he guessed.

The cat yawned again. This time, it followed the gesture up with a mrpf, and unfurled its body. And stretched.

“Hm,” said Essek. “He did…warn me, but…I am not sure if I approve of you coming in here like this. Without announcement, especially.”

Frumpkin stared back up at him. He tilted his head and put on his most endearing expression.

“Well,” Essek relented in the onslaught of this, “at least you don’t seem to be the kind that sheds. Actually…”

He leaned in as close as he dared, a pair of icy eyes tracking his every movement.

“…actually, I’m not at all sure what kind of kitty you are. Your ears are…very long. And your markings are…”

And then Essek realized.

“A familiar?”

Frumpkin blinked at him.

— 

Caleb had found the grocery store on his second try, and had also made note of a bookstore and bus stop on the way there. Now, after a long day of scouting out the neighborhood, he was back in his bedroom again, sorting clothes. No use in holding off, after all, not even if it made him feel slightly strange to be putting all his things away in someone else’s bedroom.

He picked up a t-shirt and examined the back. STAFF, it read. He had no idea for what. The Broad Barn’s secondhand clothing pile was vague at best and hazardous at worst.

Another part of Caleb, the part not fully consumed by the current task at hand, registered the faintest sound outside. It was ruled out as being not important.

Caleb produced another shirt. This one had a picture of a cat on it, red beams of light shooting out from its eyes. This had been a New Dawn present from—surprising to everyone—Yasha.

It had thus far found a long and happy life as the top half of Caleb’s pajamas. He’d tried to wear it in public once, and been bullied mercilessly by Beauregard.

On the other side of the room, past the drawers and the bed, was a small folding table that had been set up by Essek, likely as a desk. It was the sort of low contraption that eliminated any possibility of chairs, but it made a lot of sense for apartment living and was sized well enough for sitting on the floor. It was miles above Caleb’s old arrangement, a piece of plywood on a milk crate.

Right now, this new desk was covered in reams upon reams of notebook paper. Contrary to expectation, however, this paper was not lined with the standard narrow rule of most academic stationary. Instead, a pattern of lines and circles extended out from the center of the page, covering every inch in an odd spiral. Dozens upon dozens of these sheets were strewn about now, with hasty pencil-markings splattered across the page.

A particularly keen-eyed individual might have noticed that some of the markings were crossed-out. Redoubled, re-arranged, re-placed, or removed.

A particularly keen-eyed individual with the right kind of background would have noticed immediately that many of these runes were transmutative.

Back on his side of the bed, Caleb was humming.

— 

When the cat—the familiar, likely a fey one, at that—did not decide to claw Essek’s eyes out, he gingerly picked it up under its forearms and carried it out of his bedroom.

He entered the living room, and saw that it was empty. The curtains were drawn open, however, and at this point the late-summer sun was just beginning to crest low over the horizon.

Essek raised an eyebrow at Frumpkin. “So. Where is your master, hm?”

Frumpkin meowed. It meant absolutely nothing to Essek, but he nodded anyway on principle.

“I understand that you are…well, from what I think I know about ordinary cats, you might like to wander around. But the same rules that apply to your wizard apply to you as well, okay?”

He walked Frumpkin into the living room and put him down on the couch.

“I would appreciate it if you did not enter my bedroom without invitation. The study as well, yes? Meow if you understand.”

Frumpkin stared at him. Frumpkin opened his mouth. Frumpkin closed it again.

It was a vague enough gesture that Essek could not tell if this was a response. He sighed.

“This is why I never bothered with getting one of you, you know. And I’m not even talking about the food bills. Er…do you eat?”

Frumpkin repeated the gesture. Essek repeated it back at the cat in a burst of childish impulse, then caught himself.

Gods, talking to Verin yesterday must have put him in an odd mood. And his brother had kept going on and on about life back in Rosohna, about how wonderful it is, Essek, how much Mother misses you, Essek, how I wish you’d visit, Essek—all that nostalgia couldn’t be good for the mind. Especially when unsolicited.

Still, this did not stop him from checking his messages in the kitchen while he waited for his morning—afternoon—evening—coffee to brew. In the background, Frumpkin rolled over on the sofa. Verin had mentioned something that he’d wanted to talk about, that he’d send over later…

Essek opened up their conversation. Then he scowled.

— 

A solitary figure stalked through the dimming streets of Nicodranas. She stretched, working out the knots in her back, upper arms, feeling the scabs on her knuckles and their sting.

She grinned, wide and toothy, in the sunset.

Unconventional, but it worked.

— 

Caleb had a perfect memory, and never forget anything. As such, the three core tenets of his tenancy in this apartment were virtually scored into his mind.

Be quiet. Be organized. And do the recycling.

Now he stood outside the apartment complex. The winding streets formed a gentle little plaza where the neighboring buildings all shared an open space, which included the public recycling cans.

There hadn’t actually been that much to take out, aside from an empty carton of ramen, a few cat food tins, and some assorted items that Mr. Thelyss must have left behind last night. Still, Caleb had wanted to prove how serious he was about following the Code of Conduct, and so had made the journey downstairs to be a responsible citizen.

The breeze wound around his ankles. Nearby, a few kids were running around with their mother, and a jogger moseyed past their street. It was a peaceful sight, underscored by the distant call of gulls and a setting sun.

Caleb had just nudged open the lid of the recycling bin when the shouting began.

Actually, it was less of a shouting and more of a heated argument, augmented by the harsh syllables of a language that Caleb did not recognize.

If he had, it would have sounded something like this:

“—impossible! I refuse. I did not give my permission—”

“Permission? Why would she need your permission—”

“Because it is my house! And this is my city—”

“Your city? Brother, you’ve only been there a few months—”

“It’s been a year and a half, Verin. A peaceful year and a half, mind.”

“Really? Well, I am certain it will remain that. And anyway, she’s not even going there for you.”

“Hah! I have a feeling that she is visiting Nicodranas expressly to do so. The gala is just an excuse for her to come here and poke into everything I’m doing—”

“Look, look, don’t shout at me. I am just the messenger. If you’re so upset, go and call Mother—”

Caleb swung the bag into the can. As he closed the lid, his curiosity got the better of him and he found himself surreptitiously scanning the perimeter with the universal creep of eavesdroppers everywhere.

Quickly, he found the source of the sound. There was a figure standing in front of his building, pacing back and forth underneath the awning, waving one hand around in frustration. The shadows prevented him from getting a better look, but the figure seemed lithe, and very annoyed.

Caleb would have to slip past him to get back inside.

Tactically, he pulled out his phone and pretended to be incredibly engrossed with its contents. Luckily, it seemed to work—and out of the corner of his eye he even noticed the figure hastily stepping aside.

Then, unluckily, the figure followed him.

Caleb didn’t dare look up. But he could feel the stranger’s presence trail him all the way into the elevator, then settle down next to him as the doors slid shut.

Caleb went to hit the number four. So did the stranger. Their fingers collided.

“Ah—"

“Scheisse, I am sor—”

And then he stopped.

Caleb Widogast was decidedly not a man of the world. He’d never left the continent of Wildemount, for instance, nor could he claim to have seen everything it had to offer. But he had fancied himself rather well-read, and believed that he perhaps had experienced more than the average person.

This was the first time in his life that he’d seen a dark elf.

He knew that they existed, of course, but in the way that he knew the names of far-off places, as distant trivia irrelevant to his life. He knew, for example, that they were native to Xhorhas, and that many of their societies lived underground. He knew that their closest civilization was ruled by a powerful queen. He also knew that in less-polite circles, some Empire elites still believed them to be backwater savages and monsters.

This one was wearing a green t-shirt. His hair was a messy sweep to one side.

“—ry.” He finished, as quickly as he could.

The dark elf shrugged. His eyes—a pale slate gray—took in Caleb’s appearance, then the number they’d both pressed.

“I do not recall ever seeing you,” the elf said. His voice was still a little strained, as if something from before—that argument, perhaps—was bothering him immensely.

“I, ah, I’m new,” Caleb said.

The elf raised an eyebrow. “I see.”

Then he turned back around to stare at the door. Caleb was more than happy not to engage. He just hoped he hadn’t stared long enough to offend a potential neighbor.

The elevator rose three floors. On the fourth one, it stopped.

He quickly ducked out, sandals pattering on the ground, and it was only once he’d gotten to the door of his apartment and started to punch in the code that he realized the elf was still behind him, still standing there, still annoyed, and so he turned—

— 

“Excuse me,” said Essek tetchily. “Why are you entering my home?”

The human blinked.

“Er…this is…where I live.”

“What? But—”

For the second time that day, Essek realized.

“Um,” said Caleb Widogast. “Would your last name...happen to be ‘Thelyss’?”

— — —

✨ Ko-Fi Link in Bio! ✨ | Requests are OPEN

[grimmseye]

A Bird in the Hand: Chapter Twelve

Read on Ao3 here!

Rating: M

Fandom: Critical Role

Relationships: Mollymauk Tealeaf/Essek Thelyss, Mollymauk Tealeaf/Essek Thelyss/Caleb Widogast (eventual),

Chapter Characters: Mollymauk Tealeaf, Essek Thelyss

Chapter Tags/Warnings: Molly Rez, Amnesiac Mollymauk, Oh My God They Were Roommates, Violence, The best kind of romantic relationships are when you fight big monsters together

— — —

Seeing this side of the world reminded Essek why they were envious of the Empire.

The Ashkeeper peaks, at their southernmost edge, were bright with life. Even in the nighttime, the lands buzzed with a steady drone of noise, small and mundane creatures that would bear them little harm so far from the wastes of Xhorhas.

They didn’t have these luxuries of rich growth and predators that thought you too big to be their next meal. The Dynasty’s lands were long blighted, and what stood today came from centuries of building from scrap.

Essek was not much of a patriot, but he still had some love for his home, and still wanted to see it flourish. Beholding the verdant jungles that spilled out far below, he could not tamp down the resentment for what they’d been denied.

One ear flicked back at the sound of approaching steps. Essek turned as Mollymauk caught up with him, his coat draped between his arms to carry several handfuls of small, round fruit. The smile on his face beamed joy and contentment as he shuffled up to Essek and held out his coat in offering. “Blueberry?”

“Another fruit named after its color,” Essek observed, but reached for a few.

“Make sure to take the firmer ones. A mushy berry will ruin your day,” Molly advised, and Essek rolled back a few that had been soft between his fingers.

They were little blooms of sweetness on his tongue, and he couldn’t help but let a smile spread across his face. Xhorhas struggled to maintain their farms, druids and bards and clerics filtering out to the fields to bless the lands and enrichen the soil. While it let them till the land, magic had a way of leeching the flavor from anything that grew there. It left much to be desired beyond the edible fungi that naturally grew in the wastes.

“Good?” Molly prompted, smiling. “Hey, hey, hand over your bag, will you? I can’t carry these forever.” He reached for Essek’s pack without waiting for real permission, tugging a small pocket open to start shoveling berries inside. “Just let me know when you want some more!”

When the berries were safely offloaded and the pocket closed, they fell into step back along the deer path they’d been following. An arc of one finger sent orbs of light bobbing through the air around him to illuminate their road once again.

They had only been traveling a few hours, his teleportation spell landing them further than he might have liked. Mollymauk took to the mountains with glee, his hooves allowing him to hop up steeper slopes with ease while Essek simply let graviturgy boost him up the hills. It made him feel warm to see Molly scamper up to the crest of another slope and then spin around, absolute delight on his face as he drank in the world below them.

“Mollymauk,” he called, and watched him twitch to attention. “More berries, please.”

“Get your ass up here first,” Molly shouted down. It was a blessing that he didn’t start his usual jeering.

Once Essek had joined him, Molly dutifully opened the pouch, delivering another handful of berries. Several steps down the path, he got a tug on his arm, and the tiefling’s mouth opened wide in expectation.

“You could have gotten your own,” Essek pointed out, but fed him a berry. Teeth closed around his pointer finger, scraping as Essek pulled away.

Molly waggled his eyebrows. Essek turned to walk away.

“Gods’ sake, Essek,” Molly groaned. He caught Essek around the shoulders to pull him down, lips meeting. The hand that didn’t cradle blueberries found Mollymauk’s arm instead, squeezing in expectation for the filthy sort of kisses Molly liked to spring on him these days. Instead he found himself smiling as Molly pressed one, two, three, small pecks to his lips, and then another to his nose, and again to his lips, this time to mumble, “You’re such a hardass.”

“You’ve done nothing to discourage me,” Essek pointed out, and Molly barked out a laugh.

It made travel impossibly slow, but Essek had never enjoyed himself more on this road. Earlier in his career, he had traveled with bands of Kryn soldiers, escorting him under the night, moving quick and quiet with the constant dread of being found out beyond their borders. As he developed his skills and reputation, he’d started coming alone, trusting his own resilience to make a quick escape if needed.

Neither had been enjoyable. Being alone had been an improvement, allowing him the peace to enjoy the change in scenery, but in recent months he’d recognized something that colored all memories of his past: a loneliness that ached to his core.

Now he had Mollymauk.

The Ashkeeper peaks were home to drakes. They weren’t true dragons, lacking their power and intelligence, but hunting one down would fetch a good price in any shaded market. Essek wasn’t here for poaching, though — all he needed were the shed scales that lined their nests.

They reached the peaks a few hours before dawn. The moons had slid out of view, leaving a bright field of stars overhead. He dismissed the lights around them, and they both took a moment to let their eyes adjust to the new darkness.

Mollymauk stuck close from that point forward. His visual range was significantly reduced compared to Essek’s, and he followed close behind. When Essek’s hands drifted to his component pouches, Molly’s swords hissed from their sheathes.

He had been to this drake’s lair a few dozen times already, and knew its patterns. A male, it always left the nest at night to hunt. It dwelled in a cave at the very peak of the Ashkeepers, where snow lined its crest well into summer.

Mollymauk’s steps were near-silent in the frost. Essek cast Message, whispering “Don’t stray from me,” before he set a hand on Molly’s shoulder and cast invisibility on them both.

His grip tightened as Mollymauk’s image slid away. He kept pace, Molly’s tail weighed against his side as the tiefling eased towards the mouth of the cavern. The temperature only dropped further as they passed under its roof. The inside of the cave nearly crystalline with ice. Even invisible, the fog of their path mingled with that which circulated inside.

Essek would give Mollymauk nudges to direct him through the tunnels, the two of them slipping around frozen bends, a veritable maze carved into the mountain. At its end was another cavern, this one with walls and burrows to form an uneven landscape. Essek knew that at the farthest point, the drake’s nest would be tucked away, filled with soft snow and plant matter and any shiny thing the creature could get off the ground.

A low, rumbling sound made both of them freeze. It rolled through the cavern, bouncing off the frozen walls. They held their breaths, counting the seconds of silence before it was chased by a hissing, sucking sound.

Snoring. That was the sound of snoring. The drake was still in its nest.

Molly’s hand replaced his tail, a weight at Essek’s side. He dragged it up, to his arm, his shoulder, skimming fingers along the length of his neck and over his jaw, until he’d found Essek’s ear and held it in place. Heat burned his cheeks as he leaned down and Molly pressed close.

The tiefling’s lips were practically on top of his ear as he whispered, “Still good to go?”

His hand dipped to cup Essek’s cheek, so Molly felt it when he nodded. There was a squeeze to his jaw, and a moment later, Molly slipped away.

The absence terrified him. Essek pulled a piece of iron from his pouch and clutched it in his hand. Even prepared, he was still too far away to cast. He watched Molly’s path through the mist, eyes fixated on every uneven swirl of fog until it grew too dense to parse.

Then his eyes were focused on the drake’s nest, which hovered at the very edge of his vision. He held his breath, blood pumping in his ears.

The edges of the nest were lined with glinting shapes — silver scales. It was the sudden loss of one’s light that alerted him to Molly’s position, watching as a shape lifted, and vanished. Then, seconds later, another. Then a third. All the while, the drake in the nest snored peacefully away.

One by one, Molly plucked the scales from the nest and tucked them safely away. Essek had almost let himself breathe again — and then a scraping sound came from above.

Essek froze. He prayed Molly had done the same, ears straining for the noise. It was the echo of scrabbling talons growing steadily louder, and closer. His eyes widened as he stared at the roof of the cavern, where one of those burrows tunneled up through the mountain to open air, where another silver snout was poking through.

The drake had apparently found itself a mate. Now the new one crawled onto the ceiling, something bloody clutched in its mouth. Its wings spread, bringing it gliding down to the cavern floor, Essek’s heart leaping in his chest as it landed on the edge of the nest. It was not, apparently, on top of Mollymauk, for the drake only siddled back onto the ice and began to scrape at it with its claws.

Mollymauk was invisible. He only needed to stay still and wait for the creature to settle down. Essek repeated this in his head as he watched the chunk of meat — a torn-off deer’s haunch, he was sure — get tucked down in the ice and then blasted with a stream of pure frost from the creature’s throat. It nudged the heap left over, muzzle coming away coated in snow, and for just an instant it looked like it was going to curl up peacefully in its next.

Then its nostrils flared. The pupils dilated, a snarl echoing through the cavern, this time the breath exhaled was more than just snow — it was a cone of jagged ice, to cut and freeze and kill. Essek felt the thread of his spell snap, Mollymauk flickering into view as a silhouette ducking away from the blizzard.

Essek’s feet hit the ground. He moved faster this way, darting forward across ragged ice. The other drake was waking now, as an arc of flaming orbs formed a halo above Essek’s head and then blared jets of fire into its mate.

Molly tried to retreat, scrabbling back. The awoken drake caught sight of him and then shrieked and lunged, the first snap of its jaws missing but talons catching his thigh. Molly snarled. His sword flashed down, Essek threw out a hand. The velocity of his swing doubled just before he struck, driving the blade deep into the meat of the creature’s back.

The second, the male drake, jumped from behind Mollymauk. Essek rushed forward, squeezing the chunk of iron tight enough that it cut into his palm and willing the beast to freeze in place. His magic curled around it for only a moment before it broke free of his grasp. It snapped at Mollymauk with a vengeance, clothes shredding around its teeth and jaws slicked with blood..

Molly couldn’t escape, barred in by two of the beasts. Essek snarled to himself, shifting to an angle where he could line up their thrashing bodies. “Mollymauk,” he called. The tiefling caught his gaze, saw the electricity as it pulled into Essek’s grip, and dove for the female’s tail.

He swung forward. The air pressure dropped, and dark purple lightning burst across the floor. It caught the female in the skull, its mate springing away with a hiss. Molly took the distraction, swinging viciously into the already bloodied drake as it staggered and wailed.

Essek hesitated for only a moment before getting even closer. He could get them out, he just needed to get to Mollymauk first.

And then the female turned, frost billowing between its teeth, and both of them were surrounded by pure cold. Essek shuddered, his legs giving way, knees hitting the ground. Snowflakes clung to his eyelashes, blurring his vision, skin stinging where needles of ice pricked through his flash.

He panted, gulping in a breath before he pushed himself upright. Mollymauk was still on his feet, defending himself against both of the beasts with blood dripping down his chin.

One step forward. Fresh blood drooled from Molly’s eyes, but the tail still caught him in the legs, made him stagger.

Another step. Molly dug one sword into the ice, the other glowing with radiant light. He lunged, dragging a crimson line into metallic scales.

Another step. The drakes both snarled, jaws parting in near unison, two mouths full of ice to expel.

Essek’s hand clamped onto Mollymauk’s shoulder, and he pulled.

They landed outside the cave, several hundred feet down the mountain. The shift in pressure made his ears pop as they collapsed in the grass.

For a moment, they both just caught their breath, adrenaline making his hands shake and his head swim. He listened as Mollymauk regained his bearings, shoving himself onto his knees.

“Can we run one gods- damned errand,” Mollymauk snarled, wrestling Essek’s pack away, “without something getting its teeth into me.”

There was the clink of glass. Essek rolled over, pushing himself to sit up. Mollymauk had pulled out a pair of potions, and was holding both of them out to him.

Essek frowned. “You take one,” he said, lifting a single bottle from his grip. He braced himself and downed it, the grimace from its taste giving way to relief as warmth flushed over his skin again.

Molly shrugged, pinched his nose, and did the same. Essek had to chuckle as Molly gagged and dove for the blueberry pouch.

He watched as Molly crammed a handful past his lips, then threw himself onto the ground. The grunt and groan that followed suggested the potion hadn’t patched everything up just yet.

He chuckled, and then settled his chin in one hand, elbow propped on a knee. “That was unfortunate,” Essek sighed. “I’ll have to go back to making this trip in a group if there’s a pair of them, now.” He was glad they hadn’t actually managed to kill one. If the drakes abandoned that nest, he’d be out of good components. “At least information means the trip wasn’t an utter waste.”

Molly, mouth stained with blueberry juice, suddenly perked up. He gave a wet, food-muffled noise that made Essek grimace before digging into the pockets of his coat. When he pulled his hands free, it was with a bundle of silver scales each.

Essek’s face lit up. He took the scales, even those streaked with blueberry juice, to examine them for a moment and slip them into his component pouch. Excitement thrummed in his chest. That would restore an entire batch of potions and leave him some leftover material for experimentation — he could kiss Mollymauk for that.

He could. That was the truth. Essek peeked back at Molly, to find the tiefling sitting up again with a squinty-eyed grin.

It took a moment to steel his courage before he cupped Molly’s face and pressed a kiss to his lips. The shock and then delight that shone in his eyes after had some odd pride flaring in Essek’s chest.

He’d almost grown comfortable with the arrangement. Mollymauk almost always initiated, pulling him down for kisses or burrowing into his space, clinging in bed when the night was cold. Sometimes he’d push Essek down in that bed and leave marks on his neck that the mantle would hide. Sometimes Essek came home carrying tension in every muscle and Molly would nudge him against the wall and sink to his knees, or lay out across the bed on his belly, tail curling, voice goading.

Turning the tables was fun. Seeing the warmth in Molly’s eyes made his heart do something strange but not quite unpleasant.

“Let’s get a little further out before resting,” Essek suggested, before pulling Molly another five hundred feet down the mountain.

He cast a spell, then, one that Molly had seemed delighted by when he first heard of it. Magnificent Mansion was a requirement for travel. The doorway shimmered into being, and the two of them vanished inside. There were a few plants Essek will need to gather under sunlight come morning, but for now, they could lay in a bed and rest.

And they did. They sank onto a mattress, injuries still too sore to do anything but curl around each other and bask in shared heat after being doused in the mountain’s chill. Meditation was easy to slip into, the deepening of Molly’s breaths becoming the metronome to carry him somewhere beyond conscious thought.

These were moments that made him feel like even in the worst of times, things could still be okay. The yawning pit of his future had given way to a flicker of light.

He was woken by the feeling of a spell shredding through the threads of his magic.

Essek’s heart skipped the moment before he was shunted into another space. He hit the ground in a heap, gasping in one breath before the air became flame.

A scream ripped from his throat. He thought for a moment it was echoing, until he realized Mollymauk was shrieking as well. In the span of seconds, every inch of his flesh was sent crawling with agony, blood pulsing heavy under his skin and leaving him stunned when the inferno fell away.

Arrows had embedded in his body almost without him noticing. He reached for his component pouch, grabbing hold of Mollymauk as they staggered upright. He’d burned too much magic to bring them home, but maybe he could put enough distance, could hide —

The spell crumbled to ash. Essek’s gaze focused on the caster, horror twisting in his gut. Mollymauk met his eyes, then shoved him, barking, “Just run!”

So he ran, dragging Mollymauk behind him. His hand lifted to try again, just one successful cast to save them.

A series of snaps pierced his ears before the bolts drove under his skin. He pitched forward, registering only pain the second before the world turned to black.

Elsewhere, it was raining.

They stood on a hillside, the clouds opened up to a frigid downpour. It wasn’t a storm, yet, but the force of the wind was a warning.

Two pairs of hands dug through slick mud, finding the earth below loose and pliant, the grave they had dug so long ago now revealing itself as empty.