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pathological-runaway · 1 month ago

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“Tell me, Nesting Guide,” the mothling says, rocking back and forth on a chair that is standing a little too close to the counter, “Who’s that in the painting that you keep staring at when you think you’re alone?” Nesting Guide turns to look at the picture hanging above their working table. Their gaze lingers on it for some time, and they let out a quiet sigh. The carpenter isn’t even sure if it still makes sense to have the painting here in the workshop, after all this time, but they think they’ll never bring themself to take it away. For some reason, be it sentimentality or something else, they can’t.

you can find the fic here on ao3 or below the cut

“Tell me, Nesting Guide,” the mothling says, rocking back and forth on a chair that is standing a little too close to the counter.

The carpenter waits for the continuation and, when it becomes evident none is coming, puts down their tools.

“What is it?” they ask, throwing a quick glance at the child. One simply can’t leave them unsupervised for more than a couple of seconds: they’ll surely grab something that shouldn’t be grabbed or eat something that shouldn’t be eaten. Kids are tricky, and Nesting Guide isn’t sure they like them at all.

Normally, they would be against any child being so close to them while they’re working. Unfortunately, this child in particular saved them from their imprisonment inside a stone husk, and they kind of owe them for this little favour.

“Weeeell…” the kid twirls their hair and smiles in a way that makes the carpenter suspect they’re plotting something, “Who’s that in the painting that you keep staring at when you think you’re alone?”

Nesting Guide turns to look at the picture hanging above their working table. Their gaze lingers on it for some time, and they let out a quiet sigh. The carpenter isn’t even sure if it still makes sense to have the painting here in the workshop, after all this time, but they think they’ll never bring themself to take it away. For some reason, be it sentimentality or something else, they can’t.

But their thoughts are going off a tangent. Time to come back to reality.

“Don’t you mess with me, kid,” the carpenter replies sternly, “you know perfectly well who that is. What are you plotting?”

“I’m not plotting anything!” they say with fake outrage, yet the spark in their eyes proves that they are, indeed, up to no good.

So young and already so dramatic. Must be Nesting Guide’s neighbours’ fault.

Valleyers, they think, slightly annoyed and not endeared at all.

“Put the chair back,” the carpenter instructs, “if it moves one more inch towards me, you’re banned from the workshop for a week. And you can’t bribe others into getting stuff for you. Or complain to Steward. You heard me.”

The Moth grunts as they move the chair. Nesting Guide does not find this little sound adorable. Tries not to.

When the chair is finally at a reasonable distance from the tools that could harm the child and the sketches that could be harmed by them, the mothling stares offendedly anywhere but at their interlocutor.

“You’re being rude!” they announce.

Nesting Guide chuckles and returns to their work — fixing the clock that doesn’t want to be fixed for some reason.

In the few weeks they’ve been around after being kindly brought back to life, or rather to existence, they’ve come to understand this little kid as well as many others. Most of them, including this one in particular, don’t really like sitting in silence with nothing to do. They may pretend to be annoyed, but they end up cracking in a minute or two.

It doesn’t take long for the Moth to drop the act and blurt out their plans.

“Fine, I know that’s the Forest Elder. But,” they add, leaning towards the counter again, which Nesting Guide doesn’t even need to see in order to know (most children have this annoying habit of crossing the only boundary existing in this workshop), “I don’t know why they’re here. Did you two know each other?”

The carpenter pretends they didn’t hear, but the cracking sound behind them suggests the mothling is trying to get behind the counter.

“This is no place for a child!” Nesting Guide admonishes and takes the intruder by the scruff of their neck.

Put on the carpet in the middle of the workshop, the kid pouts.

“That’s not nice! I don’t want to talk to you anymore!”

And after this, they walk out.

Nesting Guide sighs and gets back to work, which ends up being more challenging than they’d like it to be, their thoughts wandering and distracting them from the malfunctioning clock.

***

The mothling comes back the very same evening, and the carpenter isn’t surprised when they do.

They haven’t made many advancements with the clock and haven’t eaten since this morning, and little does the return of the young meddler help with improving their mood.

“Flight Guide told me,” their guest announces, moving the chair from the corner towards the counter, “they were nice and told me.”

“Congratulations,” the carpenter mutters.

The room is silent for some time, the only sound being the quiet singing of birds outside. It’s a lovely sunset, and one can’t blame them for enjoying it.

The kid hums some sort of melody as if copying them.

“Flight told me you used to be the Forest Elder’s apprentice. Flight’s actually a lot better than you,” they point out, “they answer my questions, offer me sweets and let me sit close to them.”

“That’s because they don’t work with hammers, dumbo.”

“And they don’t call me dumbo.”

“Well, it’s not my fault you’re one.”

“Wow, didn’t know you’re so great with kids,” a new voice appears as Rhythm Guide enters the workshop and looks around, a sly smile on their face.

And the carpenter thought the day couldn’t get any worse.

“Urgh. Moth, make them go away.”

“Excuse me? I wanted to see how my clock’s doing! You’ve had it for ages!”

“Your clock’s doing well,” Nesting Guide replies reluctantly, “now go away before I smash it.”

“C’mon, you can’t still be mad at me for the curtain! It was an accident!”

Nesting Guide stops and puts away the gear wheel they have been tinkering with to glare at the newcomer.

“Thanks for reminding me about the curtain — now I am mad at you! Go. I’ll send someone with the clock when I’m finished. Go.”

Rhythm Guide mutters something about foresters being a pain in the ass and leaves. Nesting Guide curses in forester and calls their neighbour a ruffled penguin. For some reason, the insult doesn’t have the rewarding effect it’s supposed to.

They adjust their glasses and return to the damn clock.

“Anyways,” the Moth continues as if nothing had happened, “since you two were pretty close and you keep going to the Garden to pick up sticks and stuff, wouldn’t it be cool if you met and rekindled your friendship? I could help.”

The carpenter puts their screwdriver down with a loud thump and straightens their back.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t want to.”

“But-”

“I said no.”

“But-”

“And we weren’t friends. Stop calling every relationship friendship.”

“Bu-“

“Leave. The conversation’s over.”

The workshop is silent for a minute or so, and then there is a screeching noise and annoyed muttering as the child moves their chair and begrudgingly leaves the shop.

The carpenter can’t focus on the clock again and goes to bed instead.

***

“Nesting Guide!”

They almost choke on their drink.

“Nesting Guide!”

“What?” the carpenter asks sternly as they put their mug on the table. The reason why they went to the café so early was precisely because they didn’t want anyone screaming while they’re having breakfast.

Turns out they miscalculated.

“Just wanted to say hi! Long time no see!”

“’s only been a couple days,” the carpenter says.

“It felt like forever! I missed you!”

Nesting Guide smirks and sips their coffee.

“Oh really? I barely noticed your absence.”

The kid gasps in shock, and the carpenter laughs at their ridiculous face.

“They’re laughing at me! I said I missed them and they’re laughing at me!” they complain to Tea-Brewer.

“Don’t take them too seriously, sweetie. They’re just joking.”

“Their jokes are rude!”

Tiptoeing Tea-Brewer looks at the carpenter and raises an eyebrow. Nesting Guide does the same at them before getting up and bringing the now-empty mug to the bar.

“You should be nicer to kids. This one’s not the first to complain,” Tea-Brewer notes with a frown.

“They just don’t get jokes.”

“And this is exactly why you should be nicer to them, sweetie.”

The carpenter considers their words for a while before answering.

“Don’t you sweetie me. I’m older than you.”

“Oh really? Haven’t noticed.”

The mothling snorts, and Nesting Guide gives them a glare.

“You think you’re so smart?”

“No. But I think you’re silly.”

The carpenter finds the kid both utterly ridiculous and awfully cute and has to turn away to hide their smile.

Tea-Brewer notices and smirks before turning away and walking to the oven.

“My friends took me to meet up with Tinkering Chimesmith,” the mothling says out of the blue, “they told us a lot of fun stuff and even let us sit close and watch them work. And they work with hammers, too.”

Nesting Guide hears the unsaid question and avoids the kid’s eyes.

“Why don’t you-“

“Because I like it when everything’s organised and quiet and you lot jump and fly around and make noise,” they reply hastily without letting the Moth finish.

The child eyes them with interest.

“I won’t make any noise.”

***

That was a lie. That was an absolute lie.

While the kid did spend a whole thirty minutes not saying a word, they kept making the chair they were sitting on screech and crack, and their clothes were rustling all the time as they changed their position on the chair every two or three minutes.

Nesting Guide puts down their hammer and takes a deep breath in order to calm down at least a little.

“Okay, kid, that’s it. Time’s up.”

“What?” the Moth sounds incredulous, “You didn’t say anything about time!”

“I didn’t, but the condition was that you keep silent. And all you do is moving around, which is annoying and distracting.”

They regret turning to see the child immediately: the mothling looks heartbroken.

“But I-”

“Yes, you tried. I know. I also tried, and both of us failed.”

The carpenter’s words come out harsher than intended, but they don’t really feel like sugarcoating it.

The child looks down at the counter, drawing invisible circles with their fingers on its surface.

“I’m sorry, Nesting Guide. Do you want me to leave?”

The carpenter hears someone chatting excitedly outside and knows that most people are already up, and customers are likely to start coming soon. And customers mean more curious children who shout and accidentally make things fall. This thought alone makes the carpenter shiver.

“I guess so.”

But, before their guest is gone, they get an idea.

“And tell Rhythm the clock will have to wait! A bunch of mothlings want new beds, and Enchantment Guide says they’re out of free shelves in their shop.”

Seeing the kid light up stirs something in them that they weren’t sure was even there. They don't know if it’s a good thing or not.

***

“Do you really not want to pay Teth a visit? We’re right next to the Temple.”

The Moth tagged along to the Forest Garden with them. They’re out of materials, now that a lot of kids decided to renovate their nests with brand-new furniture. The shelves for the Enchantment shop took a lot of wood, too, and they barely have anything left for the upcoming projects.

“I told you. I don’t want to see them.”

The kid doesn’t say anything in response, picking up sticks from the ground silently. Nesting Guide would never have thought that they would have literal children help them with this task, but it turns out that they’re actually quite good at it. Physical activities, the carpenter noticed, are a great solution to keep kids busy.

When half of your clients are so young, it’s not the sort of thing you’d neglect.

“Why though? I like visiting my friends. We have fun and they help me with Wasteland or Eden. That’s what friends are for.”

Nesting Guide rolls their eyes. Here they are with their friendship again.

“Me and Te- the Forest Elder aren’t friends, kid. Never were. I mean, we did have a nice mentor-mentee relationship, but that’s all,” they explain, “I have no reason to go to see them. It’d be weird.”

The mothling comes up to them and places their sticks near the pile that Nesting Guide has collected. Their own may not be as big or as useful for bigger projects, but it’s still a valuable contribution.

“I don’t understand why it’d be weird,” the child admits rather shyly.

“Well, I’ve never seen any of the Elder’s previous apprentices show up. Didn’t hear much about them either,” they shrug.

For the Moth, it seems to be a revelation.

“There were others?!”

The carpenter picks up a thin branch and examines it. Having found it unsuitable, they throw it away.

“Of course there were. Teth’s an Elder, they’ve been around for ages,” they look wistfully at the Temple walls, “wasn’t the first one, wasn’t the last one. Funny.”

“What? What’s funny?”

They don’t really know it themself.

“Do you ever happen to feel like you’re very small in a very big world?”

The kid looks up at the tops of majestic ancient trees disappearing in the thick clouds above and contemplates them for a short while.

“All the time.”

***

“I told you that I- What’s that face for?” Nesting Guide asks and frowns.

Their guest sits down and puts their arms on the counter, resting their head on them. They move slowly and look either tired or bored. Maybe both.

“I don’t know what to do,” they mumble without lifting their head.

Nesting Guide throws a glance at the sketches that are now trapped under the mothling’s elbows and thinks about reprimanding the kid for disregarding their instructions. Yet, it doesn’t seem fair.

“How come? The weather’s nice. Go wherever you want and do whatever you wish. Budge up a little though, I need those.”

The child lifts their arms, letting the carpenter collect all the papers, which they don’t really need at the moment but don’t want to leave next to the kid, and put them on a shelf above their desk.

“I wanted to go to the Forgotten Ark and do some stuff there,” the mothling says unenthusiastically, “and then I wanted to get black die for my shirt.”

“And?”

The kid sighs and puts their head on the counter again. Nesting Guide wishes they didn’t, wishes they stopped bothering them and went away, but this one’s quite stubborn. More stubborn than others.

No threats are enough to pry them away from here.

“My friends changed plans. They’re helping some Moths instead.”

The carpenter hums as they put a stool and a box of nails on the desk. Repairing a broken stool leg isn’t something that requires that much concentration compared to most other things they’ve been doing lately, so they’re not against some chit-chat while they’re at it, especially since the kid seems not to be in the best mood.

“Those Moths probably really need help, then.”

The child whines.

“I need help, too!”

Nesting Guide chuckles. So dramatic. They wonder how they even stand having them around.

“Well, not as much as them, probably. You’ve already got ten stars. You’re practically an expert now.”

“I’m not!” the kid protests, but their interlocutor manages to hear that the compliment pleases them.

“I’m being serious, by the way. If you really want to, you can always go by yourself. Maybe you’ll find someone there or manage to do it alone.”

“But what if I don’t? It’s dangerous and scary out there…”

Nesting Guide writes down the measurements and begins looking for a suitable piece of wood. The broken clock sitting on the shelf nearby catches their attention, but they don’t really have time for it now, so they look away. Their eyes settle on the painting: their own faceless silhouette, the Elder standing by their side. The trees look a lot younger and thinner in the picture than they do in real life, especially now, after all the years that have passed.

“Well… No one stops you from trying anyway.”

The child doesn’t say anything, but when the carpenter turns around, they see the visitor’s eyes studying the painting, too.

“Your hair looks longer here,” the kid comments.

“Decided to cut it later on,” Nesting Guide explains, going back to the stool, “I thought it’d suit me.”

“It does.”

A pause.

“Do you think I should cut mine?”

The carpenter smiles at the spontaneity of the decision. It reminds them of themself, in a way.

“If you want to,” they say, “and if you do, tell Rhythm I’ll go back to the clock next month. Steward says the Concert Hall needs a renovation. The tables there are falling apart.”

***

“I helped out a mothling! Can you believe it?” the kid shouts as they jump excitedly.

“Huh, good for you,” Nesting Guide replies and yawns. It’s been a long day — a long few days, even. Or weeks. Or months.

It’s a very long life.

“They were kinda lost in that tube thingy — I’ve told you about it — there are krills everywhere and it’s hard to understand where to go — anyways, I took them by the hand and guided them! Didn’t even get attacked!” they are pacing and flapping hands, and Nesting Guide wonders how they still have so much energy, “they ran off somewhere after the Point of No Return, but we met again in Orbit! They said they hated Eden, but I explained them stuff and I’m planning to take them to Valley and introduce them to Dreams’ child! I’m so excited!”

The carpenter ruffles their hair on their way to the exit. The child may have just got a boost of energy from having their body’s age reset to zero, but Nesting Guide didn’t, and they really need to eat something.

“Where are you going?” the kid asks.

“The café. I’m starving.”

“Can I go with you? Or are you the leave-me-alone kind of starving?”

Nesting Guide shrugs.

“Nah. Come along.”

Tea-Brewer makes a funny face upon seeing the two enter exactly at the moment when they were going to close the café but still gives them a piece of pie and some tea.

“Oh, long time no see!” Tea-Brewer says excitedly despite being visibly tired, too, “Is that a new cape?”

Nesting Guide feels a ping of shame for not noticing the change. But to be fair, they’ve spent so long working today that they probably wouldn’t even notice if someone painted their workshop a different colour.

“Yes!” the child beams, “I decided to try something new in this life. I’ve actually never worn pink before! Do you like it?”

“It’s really lovely, sweetie!”

The kid swings their feet happily as they eat their bun.

The carpenter’s mind starts to clear up a little after getting some food, and new questions start popping up in their head.

“I thought Eden was planned for tomorrow? Or have I lost track of time?”

“Well, it was originally planned for tomorrow, but then a friend of mine said they couldn’t go fishing, and Angler decided to postpone it, so I kinda had nothing left to do today. I thought of going to Sanctuary and helping clean up the darkness, but it’s been really busy there for the last couple of days. I needed to clear up my mind a little, and Eden’s perfect for that.”

Nesting Guide feels like, no matter how much time they spend with this kid, they’ll never understand children of the light at all. How could you ever understand someone who treats a gruesome death like meditation?

But maybe they don’t really need to understand them. They don’t understand Flight’s love for sports or Enchantment’s fear of jellyfish, but it’s never stopped them from enjoying their company, after all.

Eden seems more complex than sports and jellyfish, but perhaps its mundaneness in sky kids’ lives is one more thing Nesting Guide will never get.

“And what of your other friends? You told me last week you wanted to meet up with them again to celebrate your friendship anniversary.”

The child’s excitement suddenly fades away. They look at the window, eyes unfocused and dull.

The silence in the empty room is uncomfortable. Tense. Crushing.

Nesting Guide puts their cup on the table and leans slightly towards the kid.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes,” they reply, still not looking, “no. I’ll tell you later.”

***

“There was no anniversary. They’d decided to join the stars,” they explain on a quiet afternoon, sitting on a chair too close to the counter while snow is falling outside and the carpenter is reassembling the clock.

“I’m so sorry to hear that,” Nesting Guide says as they look at the kid with round eyes.

“No, it’s alright. I’m sure they’re happy there.”

Nesting Guide doesn’t really know how to comfort a crying child, so they give them some hot cocoa and a warm blanket and tell the most ridiculous stories from their youth that they can think of.

***

“I think I’ll just ask you to make me a new one, at this rate,” Rhythm Guide says jokingly, “I’d almost forgotten what it even looks like.”

The carpenter cocks an eyebrow in an attempt to convey the wide range of emotions they’re feeling now.

“Did you wait for Days of Love just to tell me this?”

“Mate, I can’t know if it’s Days of Love or not. I have no clock to check the bloody time.”

“I told you to trust the process!” Nesting Guide tries their best not to start criticising the awful joke.

“It’s been months! Almost a year! Why is it my clock that has to wait and not all other stuff?”

“Probably because your clock’s pretty weird. And all of your neighbours have clocks for you to look at whenever you want,” the child points out.

“I can’t believe you’re on their side! What happened to you?”

“Your clock will be ready by the end of next week, I swear. Now leave us alone. If you keep distracting us, the kid will cut off their finger or something.”

Rhythm rolls their eyes but leaves, leaving the two sitting in silence for a while.

“So, what do I do with this part?”

“Well, firstly you don’t touch anything and just look. Then you answer my questions and if you make a mistake, I’m never letting you go behind the counter again. Capiche?”

The child scrunches their face in thought. A moment later, a mischievous smile appears on their lips.

“Deal.”

***

“Tell me, Nesting Guide,” the child starts, looking at the draft in their hand.

“What?”

“Do you still miss them? Because I catch you looking at the painting sometimes. And you look sad.”

The carpenter doesn’t reply for a minute or so, and the kid waits patiently for them to speak up.

“Just nostalgic, I s’pose.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

Nesting Guide continues tinkering with the tile on the wall. There is something in it that is bothering them, but they can’t quite put their finger on what exactly is wrong.

“Can I ask you one more question?” the child looks up at them with curiosity.

“Fine, ask away.”

“Are you avoiding the clock on purpose?”

***

“I met my old guide this morning,” their apprentice announces, “they didn’t recognise me at first, but then they were happy that I was doing well.”

“That’s lovely,” Nesting Guide replies without looking up.

They don’t really need to to know that the kid is watching them work, noting the movement of their hands and the position of their fingers. They’ve been doing it a lot lately, and the carpenter is glad they’re taking their time to observe and learn. Nesting Guide was afraid, at the very beginning, that the child would give up or burn out soon after starting.

But they didn’t.

“The funny thing is,” the child continues, “I wasn’t that happy to see them. I mean, it did feel good at the very beginning. But then we just… had nothing to talk about. And went our separate ways. Is it strange?”

“Nah, that’s normal. Means you’ve both changed.”

Their apprentice doesn’t say much after that, sitting in silence instead.

When the carpenter is almost done, the child does ask them one more question.

“I’ve seen so many people come and go ever since I fell here. How can I make sure that those I care about don’t leave?”

Nesting Guide’s lungs refuse to work for a solid moment, and the weight in their chest suddenly makes it hard to speak.

“That’s the thing. You can’t.”

The kid hums in response.

“That’s good to know. I thought I was doing something wrong.”

“You weren’t. ‘s just how life works.”

“Life sounds really silly,” they reply, pensive.

Nesting Guide chuckles.

“Mate, you haven’t seen anything yet.”

***

“I can’t believe you really did it. I’d forgotten I had a clock.”

“Just shut up and take it. Didn’t come here to hear your soliloquies.”

***

The child is away guiding a few mothlings through Eden, and Nesting Guide has to go to the Forest Garden alone.

As they gather their things and get ready to leave, they catch a glimpse of a tall figure standing at the Temple gate, too light to blend in with the wall, too dark to really stand out.

They bow almost instinctively, and the figure nods at them.

Back in their workshop, they stare at the painting for a long while before finally deciding to take it down.

***

After a month of two, they still glance up at the empty space from time to time.

***

After a year, they get a new one.

***

And after a decade, there is a mothling rocking back and forth on a chair too close to the counter.

#sky children of the light #sky cotl #runaway writes #nesting guide #nesting guide save me #i know that the inability to move on from a relationship and being reluctant to let someone in and start a new one are often viewed ->#-> through the lense of romance #but. i like breaking rules :> also because platonic heartbreak is so real #i had to re-write it almost completely a few times because i wasn't sure where it was going #but i think i'm kinda satisfied with it now. mostly.#rhythm guide i'm so sorry for turning your clock into a metaphor i'll do it again if i need to

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