#the neins tower feeling more like home than anything else he's ever known--

[dent-de-leon]

Always thinking of Kingsley seeing Caleb and immediately dropping the whole Plank King persona. Tealeaf seeing his Magician and warming up immediately, all fond, playful teasing and open affection. King telling Caleb just how adorable he is, taking him by the hand and insisting he stay for drinks. Sharing the wildest stories and singing drunken sea shanties, reveling in the way it makes his Magic Man smile and laugh--

The way King's heart just melts when Caleb still calls him Circus Man. Tealeaf cradling his Magician's cheek and giving him the most tender forehead kiss. Stolen little moments of affection that are worth more to the Plank King than all the treasure in the sea--

[omniscientwreck]

Like Waves Upon An Open Shore

Pieces of this conversation came to me late last night and I couldn't write anything else until I got this out of my system. This is one in a series of pseudo-character study/ missed conversation fics I have on AO3. There's no lifespan angst here, it's more of a meditation on power and potential.

The first to approach him was Caduceus. After they’d imprisoned Ikithon they combined efforts to build back his home. It turns out that this is something Essek’s particular arcane flare is appropriate for. He is learning to accept that his power has limits and that it likely always will. He’s never had to worry about this before, even knowing that one day he will be among the dirt and there he will stay. He’s never had to consider that the flow of time and how it feeds and consumes life is something one might need to control. When it had hit him, when they’d needed the improbable and he could not deliver, he had cried for this man he’d never known save for fond rememberings told by happy words and sad eyes.

He had come to help them and when they needed him most he couldn’t even fail because he never could have started.

However, fixing a roof is practical. Spreading density until large loads of materials are manageable to carry, freezing objects in place as they’re affixed by regular means. He can be useful here and he is. In the first two days he uses all of his strength helping and at the end of the day he’s exhausted. But Caduceus also needed help with the garden. Yasha had shown him some basics and every night he worked with his hands, for the first time of his life bringing new beauty to a scarred earth.

The first night is quiet and he is alone with his thoughts. The eyes are gone and he can properly think again. The new one, Kingsley, sleeps outside but he’s been through a lot and it’s difficult for Essek to look at him knowing he did nothing. It’s difficult to look at Caleb. To look at any of them for the first day.

But he does. He is trying to learn humility, to learn that whatever ugly thing rises in him (guilt for things he can no longer change and selfishly wouldn’t, longing for someone he has no right to feel close to, regret at working with those who had hurt him so badly, sick satisfaction at seeing him stripped of power, the desire to end him then and there) is not always the most important thing. He works alongside the Nein still. He laughs when Jester jokes, he levitates Luc to catch the child’s attention when he’s being particularly mischievous, he attempts another joke which a few of them catch this time. He is there for them now, an imitation of the way they’ve been there for each other.

He digs into the earth in the cool breeze of dusk, removing his gloves now that the sun is fading on his second night there. He’s elected to tend to the graves of an elven family, many of whom have the last name Akhilvarr. He recognizes the surprisingly light footfalls of the firbolg approaching him as he gently holds two flowers, deciding.

“You’re up late.”

He places the plants down softly in front of the hole he’s dug out, brushing dirt from his bare hands, learning to relish the coating of grime, the feeling of having an impact on the world around you. “I don’t really sleep as much as the rest of you.” He hesitates and from the way Caduceus’ eyes bore through him he knows the statement has a second half, “And I feel like I need to be out here.”

He nods and sits, levelling eyes with Essek who’s still on his knees, facing the graves. “How are you feeling?”

The question is so simple but Essek cannot find an answer that is satisfactory, no words he’s ever known can accurately sum the corners of his heart. “It does not matter right now how I feel. Your home was nearly destroyed, you brought someone back from the dead. I dare not burden you with my own troubles.”

“Essek if I may,” he’s learned by now that Caduceus means this to be a precursor to a deep insight and though he is raw he allows him to continue, “there is a difference in being selfless and being harmful. Now I won’t force anything, only you can know if you’re ready to talk, but I never ask a question I don’t want an answer to.”

“I just-” he can feal traitorous heat as tears threaten to spill over his eyelashes and realizes he can’t wipe them away without streaking his face with mud. “All my life I have trained to be powerful. I have learned to manipulate the equations and theory that make up the way we experience the world. I can manipulate the lenses through which we understand the things around us. I have been touted as a prodigy and I couldn’t do anything to affect fate when it mattered to you all most. I am so thankful that you were there, that you and your god were able to fix a great injustice, but this is the last piece of my world shattering. I thought I could protect you all, to be useful in any circumstance and I was wrong.”

He stares into the two flowers and the purple one to the left blows in the wind, while the yellow remains still. He goes to tuck the purple bloom into the dirt and gently packs earth in around it, protecting roots and brushing dirt off leaves. Caduceus allows him to do this and by the time he looks back up at him, there’s a gentles smile at rest on his face. He knows Essek has more to say and he gestures for him to continue as Essek considers which flowers would most like to celebrate the Akhilvarr family.

“It’s funny, almost. I have heard much about the wonders of gardening and never believed a word. But here I am, dirt under my nails, digging in the earth, repairing damage for once in my sorry life, trying to leave somewhere better than I found it.” he finds a red flower with ruffled petals and a taller white flower who’s stem splits off into several tiny flowers, clustered into one sphere, they seem impatient.

“The gardens at my tower were never tended by myself, I had someone else to do that. They were arranged perfectly, planted with aesthetic and design in mind and little else. Looking idly at the beauty of nature is one thing, but this place-” He looks around, mosses give off a light glow as the sun has now disappeared. Slowly but surely fireflies blink to light up the air around them, dancing from leaf to petal. “I keep having the impulse to decide based on aesthetic. It’s difficult to ignore but-”

Caduceus fills in where he has no words, “That’s not your world anymore. I regret to inform you that as soon as we crossed your path your days of neat little boxes and even rows gained an expiry date. The world is so much wider than the machinations of people, we can never predict what is outside of our purview and when we take a step back, relinquish that control, often something more beautiful will spring up. I have tended this garden for many years, longer than the memory of many and I could never have dreamed up the beauty that lives here now. It gets more and more beautiful as each year grows on because the chaos is nurtured and you are learning that.” Caduceus grabs the trowel and begins digging his own hole, “You have come so far Essek and I do not know whether I have the right to feel this way, but I am immensely proud of you. I’m proud for who you are now, and who you are about to become.”

Essek laughs and it sounds like broken glass, “Proud is a funny word to use for someone who has done as much wrong as I.”

“Each decision we make is a point in a network of thousands of other decisions we make connected to webs of the decisions of everyone who has ever had a hand in our lives. If you and everyone around you acts in fear your decisions will be rooted there. Those are the times where we are most lost and I think you are beginning to realize that.”

Every bad decision flows through Essek’s consciousness and he lets them drift by, hands trembling, and the red flower with the beautiful frills slips from his grasp and falls into place in the hole beside the deep purple of the last planted bloom. It’s fate.

“So each bad decision you’ve made has crashed in on the wave of every other bad decision you’ve made, and every bad decision anyone has ever made about you. Now, every beautiful thing you do, every good decision you make will be carried forward by every good decision you’ve made before. It’s a web, it’s a network where everything is connected and you have as much agency now as you did then, every good decision counts towards every good decision you will make in the future and I know there will be many.”

Tears stream freely down his face now and he doesn’t care about the dirt as he wipes them away. “That is-”

“I believe-”

Again, the silver tongued shadowhand has no words, “Thank you Mr. Clay. I think that is more kindness than I know how to give myself. It is difficult to process and accept but I will try my best.”

Caduceus’ hand wanders through the bag of flowers, not even looking as he picks one, a massive flower, bright white and nearly glowing in the moonlight. He sighs contentedly and plants the flower. They work together in companionable silence and Essek relishes the sound of his companion’s breath, the feeling of dirt sticking under his nails, the gentle breeze that blows through fireflies and looking through them up to the stars, once again teeming with the promise of possibility, change, growth.

AO3 Link Here

[my-spiritualweapon-is-a-lollipop]

Beautiful Things

A ficlet for @fjoresterweek day 5: Water/unspoken

Read on Ao3

It’s was a clear night aboard the Nein Heroez. Far from any civilization, the night sky was an extraordinary tapestry of stars and galaxies. The water reflected this image as well and Jester could almost imagine as she stared out across the open sea of stars, that they were sailing in the dunamancy chamber of Caleb’s tower. It was beautiful and wondrous and peaceful which was a welcome change from their past few weeks which had been fraught with danger and bloodshed.

Jester heard familiar boots on the deck of the ship as Fjord approached.He came to stand behind her, placing an arm around her waist gently. Jester leaned back slightly from the railing, resting a little of her weight against him and enjoying the warmth of his body on this chilly night. She was fairly able to withstand the cold, but the warmth of Fjord was something that she had gradually grown to crave. His touch had come to feel like a safe harbour, like the warmth of the Nicodranus sun on her face in the heat of the summer, in other words, it felt like home.

“Beautiful tonight.” Fjord said softly into her ear. She could feel the resonance of his deep voice rumbling through his chest where it connected with her back and it made her smile. She wrapped a hand over his, securing it in its position at her waist.

“Yah. The stars are so clear.”

“I was talking about you.” Fjord replied, placing an easy kiss next to one of her horns. Jester giggled quietly.

“Fjord! You’re so cheesy.” she teased.

“What can I say? My girlfriend loves romance. I aim to deliver.” he told her, a similar hint of humour in his tone.

“Well she must be very lucky.” Jester whispered in reply. “Not every lady gets to be romanced by a famous captain.”

“Well not every captain finds such a unique and fantastic Lady.” He retorted before stooping for a small kiss on her neck which sent electrifying shiver’s down Jester’s spine.

She turned in his arms to face him, winding her own arms around his neck.

“Do you ever wonder if people will tell stories about us? The way they do with Deshilla or something? I mean I love you so much it has to be legendary right? Oooh maybe a see shanty even! Imagine, a tale about the famous Captain Tusktooth and his lovely Sapphire! But I mean, I can’t be the best lay ever, ‘cause you know… that’s taken, so what would my tagline be? The Lovely Sapphire: most fearsome cleric on the high seas… maybe not um-”

“What about the Lovely Sapphire: she who is by far the cutest thing you have ever seen.”

“I mean ... it’s not that catchy… but it is very sweet.” She stood up on her toes to give Fjord a small kiss. That small kiss was like a spark, igniting a fire. She pulled back and they made eye contact and then immediately kissed once more, this time more fervent, more passionate. Hands wound into hair and grabbed at collars, seeking as much closeness as possible.

Jester was suddenly tripped as she was on her toes and the boat hit a slightly larger wave, breaking off their kiss. They both smiled and giggled, mildly giddy from the rush of emotions and hormones. Jester reached up to kiss once more but stopped as she saw his eyes lock on something in the ocean behind her. She wheeled around rapidly, expecting some kind of threat but instead found a beautiful bloom of Jellyfish.

She relaxed and leaned back against Fjord once more as he draped an arm over her shoulder. She stepped back slightly to be beside him, so that she could wrap her arms around his waist and rest her head against his chest to watch as the Jellyfish passed by.

It was almost like seeing a sea of swirling ribbons. As if someone had dropped her mother’s favourite organza wrap in the water and it was being carried by the waves. They glowed with warm pinks, oranges and purples and swirled through one another in a stunning dance of colour.

Both Jester and Fjord thought about the last time that they had seen a jellyfish bloom like this. Fjord had been busy courting Avantika, and Jester had been  busy discovering that she disliked that more than she would have expected.  Sure she had had a crush on Fjord but she had never made any real moves. Why then had she been so upset that he was moving on to someone else?

She remembered the tears that had sprung to her eyes as she had told Fjord in a roundabout way that he was hurting her. “Sometimes the most beautiful things, are the things that can hurt you the most” she told him. It was her slight admission. She had only intended it as a statement of fact, but as she had looked up at the man that she was realizing that she was in love with in a truer and deeper way than she had yet known, she found that it was packed with all that she couldn’t (or wouldn't) say.

She remembered his gobsmacked expression as he had scrambled to come up with some sort of reply. He did not succeed in coming up with what she wanted to hear, because she didn’t really want to hear anything at all. She had wanted to be held or to be able to reach out and grasp his hand. She wanted to quietly and peacefully share this amazing moment with Fjord. Even she had been confused at the time by the depth of her emotions.

Now, she looked up at him, only a few years later, and she squeezed him just a little tighter simply because she could. They had both grown so much since then, and perhaps more amazingly, they had grown towards each other. They held one another, staring out at the jellyfish, and the perfect night sky and simply enjoyed how far they’d come, enjoyed how much they loved one another, enjoyed the perfect safety they had come to know in each others arms, far from that distant hurt. They didn’t pepper each other with massive confessions of love the way Jester had dreamed back then. They didn’t need to. At this moment, they both knew.

“What about, the lovely sapphire: she who brings out the best in people?” Fjord asked.

“I like that.”

[iatethepomegranate]

We are not alone in the dark with our demons, Chapter 13

In which Caleb buys a house in Rexxentrum with Beau and Yasha, becomes a professor, and learns to be a person. And, amid all of that, confronts his past by helping others like him.

Content warnings: traumatised child, starvation (referenced), very brief hint of lifespan angst

Chapter summary: Caleb is good with kids. Clerics are good with Calebs.

Chapter notes: Chapter title is from An Act of Kindness by Bastille. Pardon the comma splice; it gave me a better vibe than anything else.

***

Chapter 13: Kindness is what you showed to me, it holds me 'til I ache

Much later, Caleb tucked Luc into bed. The boy had been dozing for some time now, and Caleb himself was exhausted. He and Essek retreated to the spare bedroom. The room wasn’t large, and therefore the bed took up most of the space, but it wasn’t the most cramped quarters the two of them had shared. It was warm, lived-in, and belonged to one of Caleb’s dearest friends in the world.

Caleb flung off his coat, tossing it onto the chair crammed in the corner of the bedroom. Essek hovered closer, deftly plucking the buttons of Caleb’s shirt until it opened. Essek kissed Caleb’s collarbone, and slid the shirt down his arms, tossing it onto the coat.

“Did I make you uncomfortable earlier?” Essek asked, slowly running his fingers across the reddish-brown hair on Caleb’s chest.

“No. I was surprised, is all.” And very tired, but he knew Essek was aware of that.

Essek kissed Caleb’s sternum, just below the meeting of his collar bones. “We can discuss this another time. I just want you to know I am not trying to… discard you.”

“I know.”

“Good.”

They undressed. If they had been alone, they probably would have just collapsed naked on the bed, but there was a child in the house who had no boundaries, so they drew on the last dregs of their energy to pull on nightshirts and climb under the covers.

Essek wanted to be the big spoon tonight, and Caleb indulged him. It was adorable, really, given Essek was significantly smaller than him and wound up looking like a humanoid backpack. But the soft, warm pressure of Essek’s body was soothing as always, and Caleb drifted asleep.

For a while.

Then, there was a soft tapping on the door. And then the hinges creaked. Essek was already sitting up, so Caleb lay there a moment longer.

“Luc,” said Essek. “Are you all right?”

The boy didn’t speak, but he did sniffle. Caleb dragged his pants off the chair and stepped into them. Then, even in the dark, he found Luc’s small form and knelt before him.

“What happened, liebling?”

In the light from the moon, and the permanent driftglobe in the hallway Caleb had Pumat make for the Brenattos as a housewarming gift, he could see Luc swipe tears from his cheeks. Then he held up his arms in the universal signal for carry me.

Caleb scooped Luc into his arms and stood, settling the boy’s weight on his hip. Luc buried his face in Caleb’s shirt.

“Is there anything I can do?” Essek asked, halfway out of bed.

“Nein. I’ll step into the hallway. You rest.”

Essek huffed at him, but climbed back into bed. Caleb took Luc into the hallway and shut the bedroom door. Out here, it was easier to see the tension through Luc’s tiny body. He had Caleb’s shirt tightly gripped in his fists.

“Did you have a nightmare?” Caleb asked softly. Luc nodded. “All right. Would you like to talk about it?” Luc shook his head. “All right. I will hang onto you for a while, until you can sleep again. Does that sound good?” Luc nodded.

Caleb normally tried not to dwell too much on the memories of his childhood in Blumenthal, especially when he was out of sorts, but he could recall a conversation his mother had with a woman who had asked her advice on putting her newborn to sleep. He could hear his mother’s voice, sweet and gentle towards the woman who was on the verge of exhausted tears. Una had told her to hold the baby and walk up and down the house, slowly, until he fell asleep. It was not a sure thing, but it could help.

So Caleb slowly paced up and down the hallway, rubbing Luc’s back. He swayed a little as he walked, like his mother had once done for him. Even when he was just old enough to remember. Just a little younger than Luc was now, as Caleb had started to remember things very young. Not with the same clarity as he did as an adult, but more than most children at that age.

After some time of wearing a path into the wooden floor, Luc’s grip on his shirt loosened a little. The boy settled into Caleb’s arms more comfortably.

“Uncle Caleb?” His voice was still thick with years.

“Ja, liebling?”

“Can you tell me the story of the cat prince again?”

“Ja, of course.” Caleb had the story memorised in Zemnian and Common by now. For a long time, he had only known it in Zemnian because of the nights his mother and father had read it to him, over and over. Since reading it to Jester, however, he could tell it in Common almost as well. And he had told it to Luc several times before.

He continued to slowly pace as he told the tale, quietly into Luc’s ear. Luc relaxed by inches. Yeza poked his head out of his bedroom door and watched quietly. They barely made it through the reveal of the cat in his crown of golden leaves, before Luc had relaxed fully, asleep against Caleb’s chest.

Yeza, who had been tense himself, also relaxed. “Thank you,” he whispered.

Caleb smiled at him, not daring to speak lest he wake Luc. He slowly carried the boy to bed, tucking him in with a kiss on the forehead he decided to give at the last second. He crept out, closing the door. He and Yeza leaned their ears against the wood, listening for a moment. When it seemed that Luc was properly asleep, they stepped away.

“He’s been like this a lot,” Yeza whispered. “At first, when we were in the hideout, I thought he was gonna be okay. And he was for a while, until we came back home. Veth’s been good with him, but it’s wearing on her. On both of us.”

“These things often don’t hit right away,” Caleb replied quietly.

“Yeah, Veth said that, too.” Yeza sighed. “You’re good with him. Where’d you learn that?”

Caleb shrugged. “My mother, and I remember the things Veth has done to help me. I am not a little boy, but the principles are similar.”

“We need to have you over more often.” The exhaustion was all too evident in Yeza’s voice. “Your students will be lucky to have you.”

Caleb managed a smile through his own exhaustion, and that personal brand of self-loathing that rarely went away. “We will see. Gute nacht, Yeza.”

“Goodnight, Caleb.”

They separated. Caleb went back to the guest room, where Essek was sitting cross-legged on the bed in his trance. As soon as Caleb slipped under the covers, Essek shifted.

“Is everything all right?”

“Ja, Luc’s asleep.” Caleb buried his face in the pillow with a sigh.

“You are good with children. Have you ever considered…” Essek laughed softly. “Hm. I feel that is a loaded question, given our relationship.”

Caleb put the meaning together. “Ja, I don’t know. I used to see myself raising a family when I was younger, but… things got complicated. Maybe in time. For now, let’s see how I go as a teacher.”

Essek hummed softly, and did not continue the discussion. This required both of them to be more energised. Given the difference in their lifespans, and the fact Essek was a wanted criminal and Caleb a likely target for members of the Assembly looking to cover their tracks, it would not be an easy decision. It could wait. It needed to.

Caleb reached out blindly until he found Essek’s knee. “Cuddle me.”

Essek chuckled. “All right.” He lay down, manhandling Caleb until they were both in a more comfortable position, Essek’s head tucked under Caleb’s chin.

***

The morning was warm and bright, and Essek was soft in Caleb’s arms. Back home, Caleb would have held Essek close, slowly rubbing the heat of Essek’s back through his shirt until they were both too distracted to make it to breakfast. Here, however, he had to make do with several deep, promising kisses. And Essek grazing his collarbone with his teeth, one hand between Caleb’s thighs, until they both took a deep breath and, regrettably, stopped.

Maybe they would take the tower tonight, or a room at the Chateau. Veth would Send to them if she needed help with Luc. She had begged Essek to teach her so she could keep up the ruse that Yasha could communicate with her across distances. Caleb was fairly certain Yasha was fucking with her by this point, but he always enjoyed watching Essek teach.

Regretfully, Caleb forced himself out of bed and away from Essek’s wandering hands. He was definitely grumbling under his breath as he dressed, while Essek reclined in bed and watched with warm amusement.

“What’s so funny?” Caleb muttered, stumbling into his trousers.

“Caleb Widogast.” Essek smiled sweetly. “You’re cute when you’re grumpy.”

“I am pretending I didn't hear that,” Caleb said weakly. Because he was this close to jumping back into bed with this man.

Essek took pity on him and climbed out of bed to dress, though the way he pressed up against Caleb’s back to kiss his neck was pure evil. Nevertheless, the two of them managed to get dressed and out of the bedroom without further incident.

Luc seemed more like himself at breakfast, fiddling with his crossbow once again. Veth kissed Caleb on the cheek in a silent thank you for the previous night. Essek, as usual, braided Caleb’s hair after breakfast.

“Where’d you learn how to do that?” Veth asked, as Yeza brushed her hair and braided it as well.

“My brother,” Essek said, with a professional tone that sometimes came out when he wasn’t prepared to express a particular emotion. He tied off one braid at the side of Caleb’s head, starting on the other side. “Verin was always a handful. I learned to fix the mess he made of his hair when he was off climbing trees or chasing animals, or people. It was important we both presented ourselves well, and that included grooming.” His fingernails lightly grazed Caleb’s scalp. “Verin… well. Someone had to fix his hair, preferably before our mother found out.”

There was something a little steely in Essek’s voice. A defense mechanism probably. Essek rarely spoke of his family, especially now that he probably wouldn’t see them again. Caleb got the impression Essek wouldn’t miss most of them, but he may have been closer to Verin.

Essek finished the second braid and pulled them into a half-ponytail at the back of Caleb’s head. He sighed, and ran his fingers through the rest of Caleb’s hair far longer than strictly necessary. Caleb caught his wrist and squeezed, just for a moment.

***

After breakfast, Caleb and Essek headed to the Chateau following a message from Caduceus requesting Caleb’s presence. Essek peeled off to trade novels with Marion, leaving the three of them alone in Jester’s childhood bedroom. Here, Caduceus and Jester had set up a scrying ritual. The materials were mostly floral in nature, indicating this was for Caduceus.

Caleb caught on immediately, though he didn’t get the words out before Jester shoved him onto her bed. Then, it was irrelevant, as Caduceus had already begun the ritual to scry on Nico. Caleb appreciated they had asked him to be here for it.

Jester sat with Caleb, nuzzling his shoulder and very nearly stabbing his eye out with her horns. And, of course, squeezing him so hard he was afraid of cracking a rib. It felt good, though. The anxiety coiling in his gut struggled to keep its foothold.

He had been afraid to ask Caduceus or Jester to scry on Nico again. What if the thing he feared most had come true? Nico’s fireball had knocked Caleb out cold. That really should not have been possible, even if Caleb had the constitution of wet tissue paper. He was still much tougher than he used to be.

Unlike Caleb, Nico didn’t have clerics on hand to pull him from the jaws of death. Nico could have curled up to sleep one night, out in the cold, and not had the strength to wake up again. Even when he hadn’t been injured, Caleb had come close to freezing to death many times in the years between Vergesson and Veth. The eleven years of no magic, and his long-discarded outright fear of fire, had almost spelled his doom.

Maybe Caleb’s messages never received a reply because the recipient was no longer alive. He was not experienced with the Sending spell; maybe he was misreading the lack of response. Maybe there was a pattern in the magic that should have told him whether the message met its mark. Caleb knew he was smart. He knew he was methodical. But he was also emotional. Maybe he had missed something.

Jester squeezed him tighter. He was spiralling. He had to breathe. He had to think. Panicking was of no use. If Nico was dead, they needed to find his body. It had only been a few days, and Caleb had created a new Transmuter’s Stone--focusing on that had helped steel his nerves these past few days. And he was sure Jester and Caduceus had the right quality of diamonds. Even if Nico was dead, he could still be saved.

And if he was alive, they needed to know. They needed to keep trying to talk to him, try to get him to safety in whatever way they could. And even though Caleb had never had a proper conversation with the boy, he knew he would do anything to keep him safe. Anything.

What Nico was going through now, Caleb had suffered alone. He would never wish that on anyone.

Being held by Jester always brought up complicated feelings, but he was grateful she was there to physically hold him together. She was babbling about something, and Caleb genuinely tried to listen, but most of his focus was split between his whirling thoughts and watching Caduceus.

He did catch the end of her babble.

“And then King said, ‘Were you gonna tell me I had magic blood or was I supposed to find that out when I cut myself shaving?’” Her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. “He found out because he cut himself shaving.”

Caduceus jolted, and then he was back with them. “Nope.”

The words fell out of Caleb’s mouth before he had fully considered them. “Can you tell the difference between resisting the scry and…” His brain caught up with his mouth, and choked him.

Caduceus stepped in before Caleb could spiral further. “Yeah, we can tell the difference. He resisted.” Caduceus began to collect the flowers, bundled herbs, ashes, and bone fragments. A piece of petrified wood Caleb had found him during their travels. A few botanical drawings made by Jester. Fresh seaweed from Fjord. He carefully scooped up each piece of the ritual and put them away.

Okay. Nico was alive. That was something. But they couldn’t see him. He could have been anywhere within a few days of Rexxentrum, and each of those places was freezing cold. Nico had fire, but did he have the capacity to use it? Had he found shelter? Water? Where the fuck was he?

And it was possible to be alive and conscious and on death’s door. He wasn’t dead. Yet. That could change at any moment. Caleb needed to know. He couldn’t take this uncertainty anymore.

“Jester.” His voice was little more than a scratchy whisper. “Please.” Talking hurt.

She gave him one last squeeze and let go. “Of course, Cayleb. I’ll try. Caduceus gave me a picture.” She slid onto the floor and began to set out little dick statues. A tiny figurine of the Traveller. A little collection of unicorn statues, many of which were new to Caleb. “Hey, Artie. We really need to see what Nico’s doing, okay?”

Caleb no longer had Truesight, but Artagan never bothered to hide his presence in Sprinkle anymore. Or when his cloak would appear and sweep over Jester. He only hid from the Nein to fuck with them these days. So, the green flash of Sprinkle’s eyes and the sweep of a green cloak were a familiar sight by now.

Caduceus took Jester’s place on the bed beside him. Neither Caduceus nor Caleb were given to filling empty space with sound unless they genuinely had something to say, so they sat quietly. Shoulders barely touching, but that was enough of an anchor for Caleb to stay calm.

Time crawled by as Jester worked through the ritual, until, finally, she looked into the distance. And she wasn’t seeing the room. Hope bloomed, sharp and painful, in Caleb’s chest.

“I see him,” she said. “It’s hard to see anything else. I think I can see green but I can’t make out shapes. Nico’s sitting on… grass, I think? There’s a campfire. Bandages. He found bandages somewhere! He looks pale, but… focused. I think? He’s bandaging his arm.”

She spent the next ten minutes describing everything Nico did. Aside from bandaging, he spent most of the time staring into the campfire. He’d found a coat somewhere, but no shoes. Shivering a bit, but nothing that would indicate a threat of hypothermia. Best she could tell, he was surviving.

Until they could get him to come back, that would have to be enough.

Once Jester had finished scrying, she squeezed onto the bed on Caleb’s other side. “Are you okay, Caleb?”

“Ja.” Knowing Nico was more or less in one piece, and did not seem to be in immediate danger, had lifted a great weight from Caleb’s ribcage. “Thank you. I was afraid to ask. Caduceus, I hate to ask that you spend another spell, but...”

Caduceus waited patiently, smiling faintly as he often did. He would say yes. Caleb knew he would.

So, despite feeling weird about asking for things like this, he did anyway. “Would you mind asking the Wildmother a few questions?”

“Give me three questions and one minute,” was all Caduceus said in response.

Caleb had spent so long worrying about this kid that coming up with three questions was easy. “First, is he in the Pearlbow Wilderness? Second, has he found clean water in the last twenty-four hours? Third, has he eaten since Rexxentrum?”

Caduceus slid to the floor once again and began setting up the ritual. “Good questions to ask, with simple answers.”

The wait was easier this time, knowing that Nico wasn’t dead, or close to it. The burning incense curled through the air, reminding Caleb fondly of his time with Frumpkin. He hoped his little friend was having a good time, wherever he was.

“Is Nicolaus Baumann in the Pearlbow Wilderness?” Caduceus asked quietly, eyes closed. Caleb could not sense the Wildmother’s response, but Caduceus nodded to himself. “Has the boy found clean drinking water in the last twenty-four hours?” A moment, and Caduceus nodded again. “Has he eaten since the meal I fed him in Rexxentrum?” This moment stretched longer, and the corner of Cad’s mouth tightened. He released the ritual, blinking his eyes clear until he could focus on them. “Nico’s in the Pearlbow Wilderness and has found clean drinking water in the last day. He has not eaten since Rexxentrum.”

Caleb swallowed around the lump in his throat. “Thank you, Caduceus.” Those words could not adequately express his gratitude; how much lighter he felt knowing that Nico was surviving. They could get him back to Rexxentrum. Caleb would keep talking to him, as would Felix. It was doable. “And, Jester. Thank you.”

The two clerics exchanged a look, laced with meaning that Caleb could not read. But he suspected they had discussed this whole thing in detail long before they had invited Caleb here. He wasn’t sure he would ever get used to having friends who would literally team up to take care of him like that. It frightened him a little, but he knew the fear was irrational. They loved him as much as he loved them. Not always in the same way, especially when it came to Jester, but it was love all the same.

Then Jester’s mood shifted, and she was grinning. “Hey, Cay-leb.”

“...ja?”

“Did Essek bring his parasol?”

“Ja, of course. It’s Nicodranas.”

“Cool! I got you guys a huge beach umbrella. Meet us downstairs in an hour.” She kissed his cheek, and tore out of her room. “BEACH TRIP!!”

Caduceus chuckled softly, unfolding himself from the floor. “She has been planning this all day.”

“Ja, I figured.” Caleb had missed the beach. So different from his old life that it was easier to let go of things there. “Are you coming?”

Caduceus laughed openly at that. Of course he was coming. Nobody said no to Jester Lavorre.

This was probably the last time the two of them would be alone in a while. There were things Caleb wanted to say. Needed to.

“Caduceus,” said Caleb. “Thank you. For all of this.”

“Caleb.” Caduceus smiled, but he allowed the sadness of it to break through. “You were alone for a long time. So was I. So were… all of us. We’ve all grown together. And you… I always knew you were being shaped into something. What that something was… that was your choice. Reaching out to people who went through what you have, taking your pain and what you have learned to protect them from the worst of your experiences… that’s growth, Caleb. You’re healing. I’m proud of you. We all are.”

The words hit hard, drawing tears from the corners of Caleb’s eyes. But they were good tears. It felt like a poison was leaving his body.

“You helped,” Caleb said, standing to face Caduceus properly. “All of you. And I know I didn’t always listen to you, but I remember everything. Your words mean a lot to me. Thank you.” He felt a surge of affection and a sob escaped his throat. “Can I hug you?”

“Of course.”

It had never occurred to Caleb that firbolgs would give great hugs. They had giant heritage and were stronger than they looked. Caleb had come to prefer hugs that crushed his soul back into his body, so this was perfect. He let Caduceus squish him, tucking his face into the folds of his robe. Caduceus always smelled of herbs and earth. A grounding, calming scent to match a grounding, calming man.

Caduceus had been exactly what the Nein, and Caleb himself, had needed after they lost Molly. And he continued to fill that role, gladly, even when it caused him personal pain. Caleb loved him dearly.

They were still hugging when Jester came to grab a few things from her room, and she gladly jumped in, babbling about the beach trip and all the plans she had made for it.

Caleb breathed easier than he had in days.

[sockablock]

Once upon a time, @inkedinserendipity tagged me in a post by @superssonica asking what would happen if Caleb got a bit too used to the Polymorph spell. 

Seren, you monster, this one goes out to you: 

- - -

Beau disappears into the clouds below the branches, trailed—then outpaced—by a second crack of thunder.

After a moment, the massive boughs sway. A few leaves tremble, then fall still.

Caduceus takes a seat in the newly-sprung grass. Yasha joins, sheepish at his side.

“My wings were not made for flying,” she mumbles. “I think I will just stay on the ground.”

Nott tugs on Caleb’s sleeve. “I kind of want to go,” she says. “Do you have a way to get us up?”

He follows her gaze. He considers the tree. He mulls over a mental list of spells, then rummages around in his pouch for silken string.

The tiny cocoon gleams silver in the light.

He gives Nott a smile.

“Ja, sure. Hop on.”

—

Caleb is flying. 

He’s never flown before, only seen and heard through Frumpkin’s eyes, back on the safety and security of the ground. But for a person, for a human, for the child of a farmer and a soldier, long ago, he’d like to think that he’s not doing a bad job.

The skies seem to tug at something deep within his soul, something feral and instinctive, something finally freed, something soaring, something lifting, something wild—alive.

In this euphoria, he tucks his wings close, driven on by a craving he’d never felt before. 

He spins into a barrel-roll, diving through the clouds, Nott on his back, screaming—maybe it’s a cheer—all he really knows is the rush of the wind, the thrill of the ether, the endless expanse.

It is beautiful, so high in the clouds.

His mind lets go. There’s no need for control.

It is empty. It is peaceful. 

Serene.

—

Later on, he turns back into the same bird to ferry Beauregard up to the nest. He lingers in the form a bit longer than needed.

It’s to save spell slots. You never know.

—

They arrive in Bazzoxan well after dusk and fall into the first and only bunks they can find. Jester and Caduceus look well enough tapped, and Fjord still occasionally plucks gravel from his chest. Yasha and Beau are as unfazed as ever, but this is as much of a habit as an act. Nott is fretting somewhere in the background, still searching desperately for her flask.

As far as evenings go, this one is fairly standard. It has been nearly a year since the Mighty Nein assembled, and all of these bustling midnight sounds are just a part of the familiar nightly song.

But when the lamplight fades, Caleb cannot sleep. He lies there, unmoving, eyes open in the dark.

He cannot stop thinking about what he’d done that morning. He cannot forget the way that it had felt.

Of course, he cannot forget anything. He’s never been able to, never known how.

But for that a minute, for that hour, for that daydream in the breeze, it had been so wonderfully easy.

—

He changes a few more times during the trip. Once towards the tomb, once within, once to dive past narrow, winding stairs. He mostly sticks to eagles—he knows them, they’re safe, and a part of him fears the uncertainty of other shapes.

He remembers the story that Jester had told about becoming a moth. She hadn’t been able to control her mind. She hadn’t been able to focus her thoughts. He remembers being a giant ape, and knowing nothing but the adrenaline and the bloody haze.

To a wizard, to a scholar, to a son of the fields who’d crawled his way up through sheer brains alone, this is something that rips at his core. It is horrifying. He must avoid it at all costs.

Still, though, he wonders, at dusk, by the campfire, as he stares alone into the flames:

What would it feel like? How far could he go?

His fingers brush a tiny cocoon. It glimmers faint and gold in the light.

—

They go home. To a home, anyways. They report to the Queen and her stance does not change, but Caleb’s convinced that there’s a new nod of care, maybe fondness, for their motley crew. They have continued to serve the Dynasty well. They have continued to help the Krynn win the war.

And gods, if the reports can be believed, the Krynn are winning this war. 

She allows him to see the Vollstrecker. 

Caleb’s soul is still rattled when finally, he leaves.

—

He goes to bed alone that night, alone in his room on the first floor of their house. 

His mind is a well of isolation and regret, of a churning desire for a wish he’ll never have, of plans and ruminations, more distant by the hour, of dreams, calculations, memories long and past, all flooding, all filling, overflowing, overmuch, much, much too much—

He drags his fingers down the sides of his head, sweat dripping from the tangle of his hair.

He needs air. Breathe. He needs air.

Below the silence of the ever-present moon, his footsteps creak against a polished floor. His palm brushes the smooth wooden banister, and then he reaches the stairs to the roof.

He opens the door.

He inhales, below the tree.

The little globes of daylight are dormant at this hour, still and cold beneath the stars.

Caleb looks up into the branches across the sky. Their tree is not nearly as large, as enormous, but still, it is familiar all the same. It makes him think...it makes him remember...

"But not a bird if it’s night,” he murmurs. “Something else, something...”

Ah, yes.

He reaches into his little leather pouch. He pulls out another silk cocoon.

He’ll have to pick up more, soon. But that is a problem for another time.

Polymorph trips off the curve of his tongue like a dream he’s dreamt a thousand times before.

And then he is nothing but a tiny, squeaking bat, a single lone heartbeat aflutter in the night.

—

The spell lasts an hour. 

—

If you cast it once.

—

That next morning, Caduceus makes breakfast. Caleb trudges down the stairs.

“Hey, what’s up with you?” Beau asks, as he pulls up a chair and collapses against the table. “Did you sleep bad? You look like shit.”

“Thank you, Beauregard,” he mutters, and pulls a mug of...of something, to his face. “Your razor-like honesty is always appreciated.”

“Alright, fuck me for asking,” she scowls, and turns around to harass Fjord instead. 

Nott, seated across the table, is feeding something to Yeza. It is amazing, the change he brings to her.

Caleb’s gaze drifts away. He focuses on a faint spiral in the wood, a little point of difference in a world of smooth grain.

After a while, he is aware of someone calling his name. He jerks up, just in time to see a fried egg slide onto his plate.

“Didn’t sleep well?” Caduceus asks kindly. “You, ah, I hope you don’t mind my saying, but you seem a bit tired, today.”

Caleb gives him a weak smile. “Ja, I stayed up last night. Working on...working on magic,” he adds.

Technically, it is not a lie.

However, Caduceus is hard to talk around. His eyes give a flicker, and though he doesn’t argue, it certainly doesn’t seem like he is fully convinced.

Still, he gives a nod. He moves on to feed the others.

Caleb feels guilty, and he isn’t sure why.

Then again, he muses, stabbing at his plate, there’s a lot for him to be guilty for.

He sinks just a bit lower in his chair.

— 

They decide, unanimously, that despite the uncertainty, they desperately need a break before heading to the north. Another week wouldn’t be too bad, adds Jester, so one more week of downtime is had. Almost immediately afterwards, Beau grabs Fjord to train in the cellar, saying something about—I can’t let Dairon down. Nott and Yeza disappear to the lab, to steal every moment they can before they part ways. Jester and Caduceus opt for some therapeutic shopping, leaving Caleb by himself, alone with his own devices.

Three months ago, that wouldn’t have been so bad.

He drifts around for a bit, idly doing tasks, re-sorting the library and polishing the windows, making his bed and then stopping to make the others’. He even takes a whole hour to scrub their tub, draining out the water and rolling up his sleeves, getting down on both knees and working the basin with a towel.

It is noon by the time he is finished. There are still seven more hours until sundown. 

There are still one hundred and fifty-one until their week-long vacation ends.

Caleb sits down at the edge of the pool. His fingers run aimless across the soapy rag as he tries desperately to think of more to do.

He even briefly debates seeing Essek. 

After a little while, he stands up. 

It is pointless. Nothing is as good.

—

“—and we’ve got a deal on clay, too. Great for Earthquakes, Feeble Mind, Shaping Stone, if that’s something you’re interested in. Only 10 silver for a—no?”

“No, no,” Caleb says quickly, carefully pouring the silk threads into his pouch. “Thank you, but I am well-stocked in that...regard. Er...thank you, madam.”

“Well, if you change your mind,” says the goblin, waving her hand and watching him go. “Come back soon, you know where to find me!”

Caleb does. 

And he is sure that he will.

—

He deliberates only a few minutes more as he stands atop the stone wall along their tower. It is dark in Rhosana, that is the problem, otherwise a bird would be the obvious choice. Then he thinks harder, and laughs at his own foolishness, and smashes the silver cocoon in his hands.

His wings spread wide, don’t make a sound.

His eyes, large, yellow, seeing all, drink in the energy and movement of a city that he—for now—does not entirely understand.

—

He comes home that night feeling mildly rumpled, somewhat wind-swept, all his spells spent. Still he agrees, as he collapses at the dinner table, that was a long afternoon well-spent. Caduceus is cooking again, of course he is, though Nott is assisting and Jester offers advice. 

The food is amazing, once it is complete. Though he eats much, much much more than he usually would, a fact that a number of his friends pick up on.

“Did you and Essek bone or something?” Beau asks. “Dude, chill out, there’s plenty more where that came from.”

Jester snickers as Fjord thumps him on the back, giving him a sympathetic hand.

“I did not,” Caleb says, affronted, and coughs one more time just for good measure. “I can assure you, we did nothing of the sort.”

“So what did you do?” Caduceus asks. His eyes, usually so dazed and relaxed, have focused onto Caleb with an uncomfortable accuracy. Damn the priest, Caleb thinks. What is this? A confession?

“We just reviewed dunamantic basics,” he murmurs, well aware of how it sounds to Jester. “I do not have any spell slots left, but I can certainly show you at a later time.”

“Firing blanks now?” Beau asks with false sympathy. “He must have really worked you hard.”

Caleb groans, and deliberately turns so that he cannot see her. Even Nott is grinning at him widely, seemingly pleased at the idea of...well, of whatever they think that he is doing. 

He wonders, idly, as the conversation shifts to other inane topics, if this is because she is gently, in her own way, trying to let him go. 

After all, she has Yeza now. She has a son she needs to go home to. She has a mission she needs to accomplish.

Caleb is supposed to have one too. But at some point during the months that have passed, he is trying less and less to think about it.

He has a feeling he knows why, but that does not make it any better.

—

That evening, his mind churns again. But he is exhausted, and depleted of his spells. He has to force himself to rest, even a short nap will do. He lies there in bed, undreaming, for hours, until he is finally dormant long enough to tap into his old training and conjure up a burst of magic.

It is just enough for one final spell. Time to make it count.

He closes his eyes.

He curls up against the mattress, and imagines what it would like to be Frumpkin.

—

There is no sunlight in this city, which means no morning gleam through the windows, but the distant hum of activity in the house, the far-off clamor of voices and life, signals to Caleb that the day has now begun.

And Frumpkin is there. Asleep against the covers, but stirs when Caleb starts to shift.

Very quickly, he is up and locking eyes with his wizard, draping across his lap and purring up a storm.

The sleep-muddled curve of Caleb’s mouth forms a smile. He runs his fingers across Frumpkin’s scalp, gently strokes his thumb against his cat’s fur.

“Dir auch einen guten morgen,” he murmurs. “I thought you were out enjoying yourself in the city.”

Frumpkin mrows in response and rolls over onto his back.

There is a moment, and then suddenly, Caleb frowns.

“Was? What are you talking about? Do not be silly, everything is fine.”

He absently scritches the fur on Frumpkin’s chest. But now his rhythm is a little unsteady.

“I am not sure what you mean,” he adds, after another pause for silence. 

Frumpkin purrs. He opens one eye and peers at Caleb.

“I am not,” Caleb says. 

Frumpkin turns over. Caleb scowls.

“I do not see why this is any of your business. And even if I was doing for that reason, it is not a harmful habit. I am just taking advantage of the skills I have learned. There is nothing wrong with that.”

Frumpkin stares until Caleb can no longer stand it. Brow furrowed, he plucks his cat from his lap and drops him onto the bed.

He says:

“I need some time alone. Do not bother me.”

—

Frumpkin is a familiar, bound by an eldritch pact. He cannot allow his master to come to harm, and he cannot disobey Caleb’s commands.

He cannot disobey Caleb’s commands. He cannot allow his master to come to harm.

Frumpkin is a familiar, and they had made a pact.

Then again, Frumpkin is also fey. 

And fey do not take “no” for an answer.

—

“Gods above,” Beau grumbles, leaping to the side, “hey, jeez, calm down, already. What’s gotten into you?”

Frumpkin sits back on his haunches and yowls purposely at her knees. His tail lashes through the air impatiently.

Beau scratches the top of her head.

“Are you trying to tell me something? What’s wrong?”

She can swear that the feline is rolling his eyes. She crouches down and frowns at him.

“Is...oh, shit, is it Caleb? Where is he? Is he alright?”

—

The spell that Jester and Caduceus had woven into the ribbons of daylight on their tree illuminates the top of the tower for a few hours every day. 

It is the closest thing that Rhosana has to sun, to a good and honest warmth. Caleb had decided, just minutes ago, to utilize this to its fullest potential.

He is content, here. He is basking, and at peace.

And then, just at the edge of his hearing, there is a faint disturbance.

“—what, that? Are you sure?”

The voice is familiar. Right now, Caleb can’t seem to remember whose it is, but he is vaguely irritated. It had been so quiet before, it had been so calm—

“You have to be really sure. I’m not gonna kill a random lizard.”

His little reptilian heartbeat leaps. He can sense a shadow looming over him now, all his instincts scream to run—

“Alright, alright, calm down, I’m doin’ it—”

—his muscles bunch, he gets ready to jump—

And a hand descends from the heavens above, the edge colliding with Caleb’s spine, there’s one second of awful, horrible pain, of a bright-yellow smudge staining the rocks, and then he is growing, aching, stretching, tumbling onto two legs, not four, glaring up in a light too bright and snarling at the unmoving face of Beau.

Now the physical is secondary. His mind is back, and it is angry.

“Arschgesicht! I had forty-two minutes on that spell!”

Beau doesn’t flinch. She doesn’t even respond. Instead, in true Cobalt Soul fashion, she stares him down with such a gaze that for but a second, Caleb almost feels sheepish.

Then the furry bubbles right back to the surface.

“Why did you do that?” he demands. “Beauregard, why would you interrupt me?”

“Uh, what exactly did I interrupt?” Her eyebrows are raised, her chin turned up. “Caleb, what the fuck were you doing?”

“I was—I—magic!” he shouts. He gestures wildly to the smooth stones. “I was just practicing my spells! You know you are not supposed to interfere!”

He feels something dull at the back of his skull. It is like a pressure, though rapidly fading, and as he whirls around towards the source, he just sees the tip of a ginger tail vanishing down the tower stairs.

He almost shouts. He does not, but almost. He begins to storm off towards the door, his foot falls once, hard, into the grass, but then comes a grip like iron against his wrist.

Beauregard always says that her hands are her weapons. Even Caleb, in this state, remembers this well.

“Good gods,” she says, eyebrows rising further. “Dude, seriously, what’s up with you? Why’re you pissed? You can cast it again, can’t you?”

“Yes, Beauregard,” he manages, “yes, of course, of course I can. But that is not the point, here. The point is that Frumpkin disobeyed what I said, and, and coerced you to come here. I know you are innocent here, but he—”

“Wow.”

Caleb pauses.

“‘Wow’ what?”

Beau lets go of his wrist. She takes a step back, crosses her arms, looks him over with the sudden terrible stare of understanding. “Damn, dude, I came up here because I thought you were in trouble. That something was attacking you, or something’. But I guess trouble comes in different forms, huh?”

Caleb frowns. “What do you mean?”

She points at the rocks, where he had been resting. “Sometimes it’s a lizard. I’m guessing sometimes it’s a bird? A giant one, with eagle-wings?”

His eyes narrow. “I do not know what you are talking about.”

“Yeah, well, I barely do either, but Frumpkin seems to think there’s something wrong. With you, I mean. And I guess with your spells.”

“There is nothing wrong with me. And there is no reason for you to think that.”

She leans in.

“You and your cat are telepathically linked.”

“And? What of it?”

“If there was something goin’ on in your head, don’t you think he would have noticed?”

“He is overreacting,” Caleb huffs, “there is nothing—”

“Come on, man, this is Frumpkin. He cares about you, he’s just worried. And honestly, based on the way you’re acting, I’m starting to worry too.”

Caleb stops.

He goes still.

His gaze falls to the ground.

“Ja, well,” he murmurs. “Perhaps you should not bother.”

To his amazement, Beau rolls her eyes.

“Aw, come on,” she says, stepping forward. “Don’t play that face with me, alright?” She prods him in the chest. “Alright, spill. What’s up? Are you still pissed about that Scourger that got caught?”

Caleb sighs. “No, no, that is not it. It is…” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “It is just...other things. You know.”

“I don’t.”

He inhales. Then he sags, finally defeated.

“Ja. Ja, I suppose that is true.”

He watches her cross her arms.

“I won’t know unless you tell me,” she says. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

He feels the last of the rage drain away. His stares intently at the dirt.

“It is...I believe it is everything. Everything that has been happening. Everything that has happened.”

He falls quiet.

“I think it may be too much.”

Beau gives him a very level stare.

Eventually, she gestures to the stones. Warm under the glow of light made by a friend.

“Alright,” she says. “Fine. Let’s talk.”

They both sit. It is quiet, for a moment. And then, Caleb sighs one last time, and speaks:

“We are in a very strange place. And we are trying to...we are trying to do some very big things. Things that...as every day goes by, seem more and more impossible to accomplish.”

Beau leans against the bark of the tree.

“Yeah, I…feel you there.”

Caleb raises an eyebrow.

“What did your mentor say, by the way? How much does she know about...about the things we have done?”

Beau meets his gaze, eyes blank and cool.

“Oh, no. We’re doing your problems now. We can talk about all that later.”

Despite everything, this makes Caleb laugh. It’s nothing more than a faint chuckle, but Beau smiles back, gives him a nod.

“C’mon,” she says. “Go on. Keep going.”

Caleb tilts his head up to the boughs of the gnarled tree.

“I am...well, I am not sure. Not really. I do not think I have been, for a long time. And…seeing that V—that Scourger, it made me realize that…that for all of my memory, all my knowledge, for all the things I had swimming in my head, I realize now that I did not really have to think. I just...really, I just had to believe. I had to obey what my Lehrer—teacher, said. Really, I was not expected to think. And everything, for all its complications, everything was so, so simple.”

He glances down at the ground. Tufts of grass lay silent below his feet.

“Today, my friend, today they are not. We are...we are trying to do very big things. And we are trying to help many people. And I think that is good. Really, I do. And I think it has given me...in some ways, a...a goal. Something that seems a bit more feasible, anyway.”

“More realistic then bending reality.”

He gives a faint smile.

“Ja, you could put it that way. But, ah...but as you can likely see, that goal has gotten slightly more...complicated. And trying to stay on the right path...even finding that path itself, is not a straightforward process. It requires thought. It requires so much thought. And now, after everything, after all we have seen and tried to do, I believe...I am sure...that I am just tired of thinking.”

Beau nods sagely as his voice trails away.

“Okay,” she shrugs. “Then you should just stop.”

Caleb blinks.

“Jus—what?”

Beau sighs. “I…I dunno, man. I think, honestly, I think that’s all you need. To stop thinking about all that shit. Not—” she adds hastily, “—not in the way that you’re doing with the lizards. Not like that. But just...I dunno. When you’re being you.”

“But when I am me, I cannot do that,” Caleb says. “I have a perfect memory, Beauregard. There is nothing I can forget.”

“Oh, wow, look at you. Wow. I’m so impressed.”

“Beauregard—”

She grins and raises her hands. “Sorry, sorry, I couldn’t resist. But, uh...yeah. I guess that makes sense. That...that sounds pretty rough, dude. If I had a record of my greatest failures playing all the time in my head, I think I’d go pretty crazy too.”

Caleb raises an eyebrow.

“Now I am confused,” he says. “Is this conversation supposed to help me?”

Beau throws her arms into the air.

“Hell, I dunno,” she says. “I’m not the feelings expert, or whatever. I’ve just seen people do this kind of shit before. You’re supposed to talk things out, right? That’s supposed to...I dunno, fix things, or something?”

“Is it?” Caleb asks, incredulous. “Who told you that?”

She scratches the back of her neck. “Uh...I dunno. Probably Caduceus.”

“That seems like something that he would say.”

They fall silent for a few moments after that, drinking in the sunlight and the distant city sounds.

Then Beau says:

“I wasn’t lying, though. I don’t really know what it’s like to feel like you. I can’t imagine having a brain like yours. But...but I do kind of know what you’re going through.” He glances over, and she nods. “Yeah. I do. I think...I think it’s a pretty common thing. Maybe not in such perfect detail, but...it can be hard to stop thinking about all the times you’ve fucked up. And it can be even harder when you know that, uh...when it feels like the fate of a hundred thousand souls rests on every stupid decision that you make.”

“We have made many stupid decisions, eh?”

“God, you’re telling me?” Beau groans. The back of her head rests against the tree. “I’m amazed Dairon didn’t kill me. And honestly, I’m amazed all of us are still alive. But...I mean...I guess that’s just it, right? We’re still alive. We’re still here. And, most important, we’re still truckin’.”

She tilts one eye towards Caleb.

“We’re still here, and we’re still trying to figure it out. As shitty as it is, sometimes. As much as...as much as it hurts. And as tired as we get. We haven’t given up, and we’re still alive. Seriously, think about it in math. The odds are definitely that we should’ve died by now.”

He can’t help but snort. “Ja, absolut.”

“But we aren’t,” Beau shrugs. “And as shitty as that is, as much as it hurts, as fuckin’ terrible as it can sometimes be...that means we still have a chance. To do...whatever it is that we’re supposed to do. Or not supposed to do. And I always get pissed when people tell that I’m lucky for it, or whatever, but...I dunno. Maybe we are. And maybe it’s rotten luck for the world that it’s us, but...here we are. All of us, here we are. And...and we’ve got each other. And I won’t pretend to know what I’m doing, and I definitely don’t know...not really, how to help, but, uh. I’m here for you. Okay? Whatever...whatever you need. As long as it’s not bullshit—" she raises an eyebrow, Caleb chuckles. 

“—but yeah. Seriously. I’m here. And I’ll always listen, whenever I can.”

She leans back against the bark. She closes her eyes and gives a nod.

“I mean that,” she says. “I really do.”

Caleb feels the sunlight glow against his skin, feels the warmth of its whisper brushing across his face. And there’s another light too, maybe brighter, maybe warmer, coming from either side of his form—it’s the gentle sigh of a shoulder pressed against his own, and the curling, purring softness, of a cat beneath his hands.

He glances down at Frumpkin. Then he turns to look at Beau.

Here we are. All of us, here we are.

Very, very slowly, he closes his eyes.

And it isn’t the cure. Not by a long shot.

But certainly, it’s a start.

[readbythestarlight]

c2e141 (part 2)

(It was too long for Tumblr to allow so there will also be a part 3)

Aaaaaand we’re back!

Oh my god they’re actually gluing his hands together

Should that be allowed to work?

“See? You aren’t a failure. Now, finish the job, and fulfill your destiny.” Bitch shut UP

[[MORE]]

No you can’t, Astrid

No but Caleb knows

And you still made a lot of your own choices girl

Byeeeee Wulf

I mean tho that seems extreme he just wants to be done with it why be more of a dick to him than Astrid

Oh damn Caduceus

Caleb using fire magic to SAVE his friend’s family home I’m

Aw…

Okay. Fine. Astrid can have her redemption arc too. Because she went through a LOT.

I resent the forehead touch though.

Oh okay then just go

I hope they find peace somewhere, somehow

Not-Molly where the heck have you been

Oh for the love of his someone punch him

Yasha that’s hot

Caleb I don’t think you’re on the chopping block at this point babe

“I love you too”

KISSES IM THE RAAAAAIN I’m so SOFT

Oh dear what is Cad gonna do

Oh DAMN Caduceus!

Keep going babe come on

Jesus he’s just gonna keep succeeding

Trent is such a fucked human being that he is incapable of empathy is how I’m interpreting it

lol Not-Molly

“WHAT is WRONG with you” xD

Awww Veth giving up her flask!!

“You are now the best friend I’ve ever had—and I walk away”

God okay we still have like 3ish hours what else can HAPPEN

Whooooo is it

Oh damn they came back ALREADY?

That was quick

I’m glad tbh

Even tho I still don’t really like Astrid but give me time

No mention in their accounts of any other members of the CA huh

Cad is NOT forgiving them for this easily DAMN

Do it, intimidate them!

Yep there it is, he can’t empathize

Oh NO the spooky book!

It’s Gotta be useless now tho right

Valid point Jester

Oh Veth :((((

I’m not ready for the goodbyes!!

I’m crying goddd

Cad NO

Godddd there’s so much TIME left and I have to go through it without Caduceus??

“But it doesn’t feel separate from the family he’s made”

I’m crying

“You comin’ hot boi?”

NO

you can’t take him from me too right now

NO please god

Yes Caleb talk him into staying!!

ESSEK

THELYSS

PLEASE

no no please caleb ask him again please

Stop breaking up my found family

Essek I don’t understand OR accept this PLEASE

Fuck I’m just gonna lay here in a puddle of my own tears

I hate this I hate this I hate this

Huuuugs

Group huggggggs

Artists I need Essek in a flower crown art to heal my shattered soul please

“Don’t take too long because, um, connection is what saves us”

Thank you Yasha

KISS

ON CHEEK

AND HUG

“Don’t be a stranger”

“Try to be kind to yourself”

“YOURE the one who showed me that trauma doesn’t define you”

“Stay safe”

“You too, Caleb Widogast”

Fuck

FUCK

FUUUCK

Caleb gonna teach Luc I’m fine

“He’s his godfather, yes” this is fine

God Astrid just go with them

Y’all I’m not ready

Yes let’s check on Yussah good idea

“Friends, I was hoping you were going to make your way here” I’m so glad they went to see him

Awww he’s so HAPPY!!

They’re YOUR heroic knuckleheads and you love them

Beau you’re silly

Caleb and Yussah study buddies! I’ve been wanting that since we met Yussah

Not as good as Caleb and Essek study buddies but I’ll take what I can get :’)

Fjorjester water tower date

I want you to close that chapter yes

And YES good y’all go together

Oh man Fjord so desperately wants to be on the ocean and he so wants Jester with him and this is everything I want for them if it’s also what she wants

I’m crying

I love them so much

Fjord’s like “I wanna live with you”

God YAAAAAAALLL they’re so unbearably cute

Aww the Nein Heroes is there

Oh god and now goodbye to Veth

I’m gonna cry all over again

Fjord and Veth making me laugh-cry

please roll well

Yay!

Oh no not the Veth and Caleb goodbye

Yep here I go weeping again

“Veth the Brave” OKAY SURE FINE

Veth please please I can’t I’m crying I’m already crying you don’t have to make it worse

“Yes, you’ve convinced me I’m brave. But you are mighty.”

FUCK STOP

I don’t know that I can watch a third campaign because I don’t know that I can go through this again

“For most of my life, I’ve wanted to be a pirate.”

“Most of your life…?”

“Since I heard you have a ship.”

Thank you for that laugh Tal I needed it

I’m glad he’ll be with them

OH MY GOD ITS THE BANDITS

“I was sleeping…” I love Orli

You’re alright, Kingsley, I hope we see you more in the future

I keep worrying they’re gonna get up and leave the table and I can’t have that

Oh boy here we go

“What have you done?” lol

Udolaphon fixing to help end this man’s whole career

God I hope he doesn’t hurt them one last time by spilling about Essek I just thought of that

Yessss give Beau the credit she deserves!!

I’m so PROUND of her! LOOK at our girl.

“If we need any subcontractors I know a pretty good detective agency.”

Looking after her family members who aren’t present <3

Good, let him rot there

NICE they left him glued and powerless

They’re gonna offer him a spot in the Assembly

Called it

Atta boy don’t you fall into that pit of vipers

He’s coming for you next

Astrid, of fucking course

I knew it

Alriiiiiight time for Beau to get her justice

SUCK IT YOU SHITTY FATHER

Niiiiiiiiice

Beau has earned all the honor he never believed she could be worthy of

“Give this to TJ for me”

YES girl

Zenoth going to jail hell yeaahhhhhh!

JUSTICE FOE BEAU HELL YEAHHHH

And Yasha was there to support her the whole way and I’m crying again

No

No no no

If Artagan says goodbye I quit

I kid you not Matthew don’t do it

“I wanted you to be my friend, and you were”

Yes please stop using past tense

Okay thank god

Matthew you just about gave me a heart attack and Laura a heart attack

Don’t leave okay don’t leave

Don’t GO

Please

She’s grown beyond him and he knows it and he’s trying to tell her and let her go gently and I’m crying AGAIN

I’m so bad with goodbyes y’all this is really just tearing me up inside

“There’s still so much of Exandria to fuck with” what a goodbye I love him

Okay okay Fjord closure time

I can’t believe I was ever fool enough to think they wouldn’t give us these moments of closure

And now I’m just a wreck

“Do you remember me?”

“I do, boy. What brings ye here?”

“I came to find you.”

I’m fine this is fine

Please hug him

Fjord sounds so happy

I’m crying guys

Fjord finally getting his answers

The awkward “I slept with the same woman as my dad figure” reveal

I’m so glad we’re finally getting the backstory on this

“Guide you away from his path”

Adopted dad vibes

Only to lose Fjord and think he’d failed twice

“I thought about you every day, since that night. The life I had before working with you, is one I don’t care to recall, and you showed me kindness and love and honor and it meant the world to me. It fills my heart with joy to see you here, pleased, at peace. I suppose my last question is: is it your desire to stay here. We do—we have a ship.”

Gonna try to unseat the Plank King and become Pirate King huh? xD

“As my captain, you will always have a seat on my ship.” This is fine

Aw :(

Yeeeeeah!

Take a couple of trips, get to know your future daughter in law better, it’s fine

YAY

“You know that power. It’ll eat you in town. U’kotoa’s a hungry beast.”

“I believe you. We’ll have to do something about that.”

“Maybe.”

Yasha’s turn

Beau okay good start definitely we want Beau along

Let Yasha have a nice long vacation

GETTING A PLACE TOGETHER YES

gardening yes

Making you food for when you come home from work, my expositor

I’m crying that’s so SOFT

Beau stop being horny for 3 seconds challenge xD

“I never want to hold you back from anything, I want to be here to support you in everything that you do.”

“I want to be your Yeza” omg

Mmmm yes let’s get some Yasha past answers maybe please?

Drop the book off for Zuella ;_;

“I’ve never known anyone deeper than I know you, and yet I feel like there’s still so much more to learn. A lifetime to learn. And I’m so excited to explore every—every bit of you. In multiple layers. Your past doesn’t scare me.”

“You sure?”

“It only makes you beautiful”

Okay OKAY STOP y’all I JUST got done crying

Can you believe we got the perfect lesbian couple y’all

Oh god here we go

Oh my god

Oh no??

Greet??

Oh no

Jadek? Okay okay

Oh NO

Spread your wings!! Show them your new wings!!

YES good kneeling is a good choice

Ozone

Yessss Storm Lord yesssss

Y’all suck not marking her grave

Ouch

Beau that’s clearly NOT awesome

Shoutout to the Storm Lord

Oh they found her </3

Yasha no I can’t handle YOU crying

I was not emotionally prepared for this at all

I love the way Beau gives her space and then is also there with her and supporting her in the way she grieves

Just gotta love the healthy relationships they’ve given us

I’m cryinggggg

Y’all need to get some sending stones

(More in part 3)