Chapter Text

Savil forced herself to meet Vanyel’s eyes steadily, even though the look on his face was like a blade twisting in her chest.

“I need to go,” she said again. “It’s been over a month. You’re doing well in your training. You don’t need me here anymore, and the Queen does need me back home.”

He lowered his eyes to the floor and nodded slowly. She could see the tears that threatened to spill free – and feel as his shields faltered, leaking a much deeper anguish than she had expected.

“Van, I’m sorry,” she said, almost desperately. “But you do understand, right?”

“I understand.” His voice was small and tight. “Can I…be alone for a bit?”

She nodded and stood up, watching him pull himself under the blankets again, turning his face to the wall. Gods – she almost wished he would rage at her. This quiet resignation was worse.

Outside, she sat down, wearily, and dangled her feet in the warm water of the pool. Physically she felt good – her energy was back, and she had been feeling restless. At loose ends. She could make herself useful here, but she wasn’t needed. Not like back home.

Still. Seeing the mute pleading in his eyes, knowing he wouldn’t say a word against it, would just silently accept this latest insult that the world had decided to throw at him…

:I don’t want to leave him: she sent to Kellan. :The way he looked at me…:

:I know: She felt her Companion’s sympathy.

Gods, and she thought he had been starting to trust her. He had come to the door of the room where she slept, two days ago, in the middle of the night. Sobbing, incoherent – whatever it was, he hadn’t wanted to speak of it, but he’d let her hold him.

Like how ‘Lendel used to come to her door after nightmares. She blinked away sudden tears. Damn it, why can’t I stop thinking of him?

“You spoke to the boy, then?” The voice belonged to Starwind. Savil looked up; he and Moondance were emerging from the path.

Savil nodded, not meeting their eyes. She had waited until one of Vanyel’s good days – or, at least, not one of his really bad days – in the hopes that he would take it better. Which seemed pointless now.

Moondance settled down beside her. “He did not take it well?” he said in a low voice.

She shook her head, wondering if Vanyel could hear them from his room. :He looked at me like I’d just killed his favourite puppy! I hate it. I hate doing this to him:

Moondance laid a hand on her shoulder. :Then stay:

:I can’t: Her throat ached. :You know I can’t:

Kellan reached for her mind, tentative. :Chosen, you remember what Lancir said:

To take all the time she needed. But surely a month was enough. Van would need to stay here much longer to complete his training.

:And it would be better if you were here for it: Kellan prodded. :Starwind can teach magic, but he can’t teach what it means to be a Herald:

She had been trying – she had brought some books from Haven, anticipating this, and she had been going through some of the standard Heraldic responsibilities with him. Which was a challenge. He was trying, but his focus wasn’t the best – understandable, maybe, and still frustrating. An ill-spoken word could still send him fleeing to his room for candlemarks. I can’t seem to stop putting my foot in it, she thought irritably.

:They need me in Haven: she sent. Jaysen had to be swamped – she had dumped two more students on him, and now she wasn’t even around to help him prepare his treasury-reports!

:He’ll make do. He is experienced in his position, Savil: A pause. :And you haven’t had enough time. To catch up on sleep, sure, but you’re still grieving. Do you really feel ready to go back, and face everything waiting for you in Haven?:

Well, no. But it wasn’t about that. She was an adult; she could cope just fine.

Starwind and Moondance had been waiting patiently through the silent dialogue.

:My Kellan’s trying to convince me to stay: she sent to both of them, ruefully.

A pause. :I wish that you would: Starwind sent. :He is not exactly stable. You are the one he trusts most:

Like a knife to the gut. I promised him he wouldn’t be alone. That no matter what, I would be there. She had been talking about the Foresight dream, the maybe-battle ten or twenty years from now, not the present – so why did it feel like she was betraying him now?

:Savil: Moondance, a tentative Mindtouch. :I do not have anything so clear as a vision – but I do have a feeling. That it would be better, if you stayed. For you and for the boy:

Were they all hell-bent on making her feel guilty? It was an impossible choice. Stay, and neglect her oath and her duty to Valdemar – or leave, and feel like she was abandoning him? And, no doubt, make him feel abandoned. Just when he had maybe, tentatively, been starting to feel safe.

She let her head fall into her hands. No good answers.

:I’ll stay: she sent. :For now:

She felt Moondance’s arm slip around her shoulders. :Thank you, Wingsister:

:I should tell him: She stood up.

Vanyel was exactly where she had left him – curled up under the blankets, face turned away.

“Van?” she said tentatively. No response. She reached out with Mindspeech. :Ke’chara?: His shields opened for her, reluctantly. :I talked to the others. I’m going to stay:

He sat up in an instant, throwing the blankets aside, hope flashing in his face – then he looked down. “You don’t have to,” he said dully. “Not just for me.”

“No, I do.” She crossed the room, hesitated, sat down on the side of the bed. “I promised, right? That you wouldn’t have to be alone.”

A day in the Work Room:

:Gently, boy! Stop fighting it, do not try to hold it so tightly...let the power flow through you...good!:

Vanyel smiled, exhilarated, one mental hand on the blazing pool that was the Heartstone, the valley-node that powered the entire Vale. It felt incredible, nearly limitless power at his fingertips...

:All right, good. Now, gentle, very careful, send the lightning here: Starwind had pulled up a target, an illusion in the shape of a man. He had never again asked Vanyel to strike at him, shielded or not.

He raised his hands, shaped the power, released it–

:STOP!:

The wall was smoking and the room smelled of ozone. “Sorry sorry sorry sorry–” he yelped, yanking free of his connection to the valley-node, the inside of his head stinging.

Starwind only sighed. :Please rest a few minutes while I repair the set-spell, then we will try it again. And no showing off this time: A hint of pride. :I did not know it was possible to break the shields on this room. I am not sure whether to be impressed or terrified:

Another day:

He looked blankly at Starwind. “Sorry, what?”

Starwind held out the length of rope again. “Please hold out your hands.”

He flinched. “I– Why are we doing this?”

Starwind sighed. “Most mages work with the aid of gestures, but this is not fundamental. Control is in your mind, not in your hands. So we practice what to do if you cannot use your hands to shape your thoughts, yes?”

He was propped against a bale of hay, arms tied behind him, legs twisted under him, he couldn’t feel his fingers anymore, he was freezing cold and terrified… Shuddering, Vanyel pulled himself out of the memory.

“Boy, what is wrong?”

“It’s fine.” Shakily, he made himself hold out both wrists.

Starwind gave him a dubious look, but he took Vanyel’s wrists and tied them firmly together – not too tightly, though, and the rope was soft. “See? Not so bad. Now, a barrier-shield, please.”

Vanyel took a deep breath and let it out, trying to convince his heart to stop racing. His hands twitched, but he couldn’t form the gestures he hadn’t even realized he used. He tried to go through the motions in his head anyway; gods, he felt off-balance. Finally, he managed to raise a shield, but it was a clumsy attempt.

“I test it now,” Starwind said, and raised his own hands. Despite himself, Vanyel took a stumbling step backwards; he felt so helpless, and it was hard not to think about a different mage who had stood above him.

…The shield collapsed, stinging a little as the power rebounded on him. He tripped over his own feet, unable to catch himself with his hands bound, and ended up on his rear on the Work Room floor with the breath knocked out of him.

Tears sprouted in his eyes. :Yfandes, I can’t do this…:

:With practice, you will be able. Starwind wishes you to be less helpless. You remember how difficult it was to bring up a shield, when the mage had the holding-spell on you?:

He had mentally gone through that fight with Yfandes many times. :Yes:

:Chosen, maybe you should tell Starwind why you find this so stressful. He doesn’t realize:

When his vision cleared, he saw Starwind standing over him, holding out a hand and looking concerned. He took his hand and let himself be pulled to his feet.

“S-sorry,” he said shakily. “I…don’t like being tied up.” He looked away. “Bad memories.”

“Oh.” He thought Starwind sounded genuinely surprised, though it was always hard to tell from his voice. “I am sorry. Perhaps if we begin with you merely holding your hands behind your back?”

Vanyel nodded; that seemed much better.

He was playing the flute Moondance had given him, alone in his room, a sad little melody that the Hawkbrother had taught him. It was the middle of the day, but Starwind had been called away from the Vale and so he had no lessons today. Which was a relief. They often did two sessions a day now. And Starwind was making him exercise, running and climbing around the Vale, building up his stamina. Savil had been keeping him busy as well, with books and lectures. It felt like it never stopped.

Savil’s mind brushed against his; she was in the pool in ‘his’ rooms, just on the other side of the wall, but she had been politely leaving him alone. :Shields?: There were no overtones of irritation, just warmth.

He lowered the flute and checked his shields. :They seem fine:

:Oh. I thought you were projecting, but if you were you’ve stopped now:

He shrugged and started to play again.

:Van! You’re definitely projecting!:

He stopped and checked his shields again. They were solid. :I don’t see how I can be: A little annoyed, he went back to playing again.

:Oh!: He felt the overtones of dawning understanding. :Van, the Bardic Gift is quite similar to Projective Empathy. I think that must be what’s going on:

The shock of it was like a bucket of water poured down his neck. :…Oh: He looked at the flute in his hands as though he had never seen it before. :Um. How do I stop?:

:I have absolutely no idea: Savil felt amused, though. :You could play or sing something happy. Then I wouldn’t mind so much:

He was with Moondance; the Healing-Adept had been visiting him regularly, coaxing him out of his room. The two of them were on the edge of the Vale, in a place he hadn’t seen before. He followed the Hawkbrother, picking his way up the carved handholds in the rock face. Above them, Moondance’s bondbird swept, crying out, and landed on a perch at the top of the artificial cliff.

They reached the top themselves a few seconds later.

Unlike Savil, Vanyel had found that he wasn’t particularly bothered by heights; he had enjoyed several meals with Moondance and Starwind in their ekele. He just stood for a moment, the warm summery wind cooling the sweat on his skin and tugging at his hair like gentle fingers, and looked at the Vale sprawled out before him. Gods, it was beautiful. He could see nearly everything.

:Yfandes!: he reached, opening his mind to her, just wanting to share this moment. :Look! I can see the ekele…and I think that’s the clan keep, where the Work Rooms are: He tilted his head back; this high, he could actually sort of see the Veil-spell that kept out the winter. It shimmered, like an enormous soap bubble, except faintly textured.

:It’s very beautiful. I do wish I could climb like you: He felt a wash of gratitude from her. :Though sharing your eyes is more than enough:

Moondance interrupted their conversation. “Watch this!” He walked to the other side of the small stone platform and leaned over. Vanyel, following him, saw a large pool, quite a long distance below, with a small artificial waterfall tumbling into it.

“It was built very deep, on purpose,” Moondance said, his face alive with pleasure. “So that it would be safe to do this!” He began stripping off his tunic. Seconds later, he bent and launched himself from the ledge, arcing in a perfect swan-dive towards the water far below. He landed with barely a ripple and surfaced a few moments later, laughing and shaking his wet hair out of his face.

Vanyel took a step after him – and froze.

There was nothing in front of him; through the rain, it was like coming to the edge of the world. Which was what he had wanted. The river, swollen with rain, maybe it would put out the fire in his head at last…

He jerked back, nearly falling, but caught himself and took a deep breath. It’s safe, he told himself firmly, the pool is big, I can’t possibly miss it.

But he could feel Yfandes in the back of his mind, curled up and tense.

:Yfandes?: he sent, still trying to force his racing heart to slow.

:I’m fine: She didn’t feel fine. It felt like she was trying to hide a reaction at least as strong as his.

:Are you sure? If you don’t want me to–:

Her response was tart. :No, I don’t especially like the idea of you jumping off tall things. But it’s not a very rational response:

He leaned forwards again, looking down at the pool. Moondance had swum to the side and was playing in the shallower water, splashing around like a child. It made him smile.

He took a deep breath. :It is awfully high up:

Yfandes was silent in his head for a moment. :It’ll probably be fun: she coaxed, finally. :Let me ride along?:

He opened his shields to her fully, then looked down at the sparkling blue water far below, gritted his teeth, and slipped out of his short silk robe, leaving it in a puddle on the top of the platform. He jumped.

…The air rushed by, his stomach seemed to fly into his mouth, and when he did hit the water it felt hard as stone for a moment, until he crashed through the surface. He’d expected the water to be cold but it wasn’t; it wasn’t hot, either, but it was comfortable. Every part of him stinging in a not-exactly-unpleasant way, he kicked his way to the surface and sucked in a breath. There was water in his nose, burning.

:Whew!: Yfandes felt almost giddy.

He started awkwardly dog-paddling towards the edge of the pool, where Moondance was doing a handstand in the water.

:You have no technique: Yfandes complained. :Let me show you?: He felt a sort of wordless reaching from her – and when he accepted, suddenly his limbs no longer belonged to him and he found himself putting his head down in the water and taking smooth, graceful strokes towards the edge, his feet kicking in perfect synchrony.

He stood up in the shallow water, gasping a little. :I didn’t know you could do that!:

:I can, if I must: She felt a little guilty and a little smug. :All that wasteful splashing was embarrassing me:

Another day.

He lay curled in fetal position, trying to block the morning light with his hands, tears leaking between clenched eyelids. Even after all this time, sometimes it still caught him by surprise like this. Some stray thought or fragment of a remembered dream would snag on the wall he had tried to build around the memories, around the part of him that never stopped screaming into the desolate void where ‘Lendel should have been, and he would be there for a moment, on the ground on the wrong side of a Gate, watching the boy he loved go up like a bonfire, fire and destruction and death, taking half of Vanyel’s soul with him. It shouldn’t have been possible for there to be so much pain in the world.

:You have lessons, love: Yfandes prodded gently.

:Please don’t, ‘Fandes. I can’t. I just can’t right now. Please:

He felt her silent presence – not trying to comfort him, not trying to surround him in her light, just quietly bearing witness. :All right, I’ll pass on that you’re having a bad day:

He dug his nails as hard as he could into his palms, bit down on his lip until he tasted blood – the physical pain was, not exactly a distraction, but it centered him, it gave him an anchor to cling to.

:Chosen, are you going to try to hurt yourself again?: Quietly disapproving. :Do I need to get Savil to stay with you?:

They had been over this already, he thought dully. :I’m not... It helps, okay? And I can Heal myself: Not that he could damage himself that much in the first place; they still carefully kept him away from anything sharp.

He felt her worry, guilt, frustration that she couldn’t help more. :If what you need is an anchor... May I try something? It will hurt, but it should at least be safer than slamming your head into the wall repeatedly:

He hung onto her mindvoice. :Okay:

A pause.

:EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE:

It was a mind-scream that went on and on and on, louder than he would have imagined possible, it pushed out all thoughts, it drove through the center of the emptiness like a pillar of fire – it was a reference point, a beacon to hold to.

She could only manage it for about a minute, and his Mindspeech channels felt sore and bruised at the end of it, but it helped. The grief was still there but he could let it wash gently over him, rather than drowning in it. He could remember that there were other things in the world.

He was...mostly functional, these days. The bad days came less often, and often it lasted only a few candlemarks. He was getting better at navigating the treacherous wasteland of his mind, knowing which paths not to follow, which thoughts to close off. He was becoming very, very skilled at distracting himself. Lessons were good for that – there was so much to learn, and he had to learn as fast as he could, he couldn’t afford otherwise. It still felt like a flimsy scaffolding to hang a life from, but he was building his house around it, he thought.

It was what ‘Lendel would have wanted him to do.

Some number of candlemarks later, he heard footsteps, then the creaking of the chair by his bed. He sensed Moondance’s presence.

“Do you wish to speak of it?” the Hawkbrother said quietly.

He rolled over, turning away from Moondance, he didn’t want to talk to anyone, didn’t want anyone to see him.

:Please talk to him: Yfandes prodded gently, in exactly the mental tone she used when she told him to please eat his vegetables.

:Fine: He had been making a genuine effort to listen to her advice, and he flopped back over. “I... No, but ‘Fandes says I should.” His voice was hoarse and nasal from crying.

A quiet breath. “Vanyel, I would like to tell you... It is all right to feel this way. It does not make you weak. To the contrary, you do credit to yourself, to cope with the world six days out of seven. Do you believe that, I wonder?”

He rolled all the way over to face Moondance, who sat between him and the window; sunlight made a halo around his snow-white hair, and his face was in shadow.

“I... It’s easier, when I can...distract myself. I wish I could do it all the time.”

A nod. “But sometimes you cannot. Sometimes a world without him in it is too much to bear, yes?”

He swallowed against the aching lump in his throat. “It’s always too much. But what else am I supposed to do?”

Moondance bowed his head. “What you are doing, I suppose. I know this dream, your maybe-future, weighs heavily on you, Vanyel. But that alone is not enough to live for.”

“Yfandes keeps telling me that.” What else did they want him to do, though? Not take it seriously?

There was a long silence. “If you close others out,” Moondance said finally, and he seemed to be choosing his words carefully, “I think that perhaps you may not last the next twenty years.”

Oof. That was... :Not false: Yfandes sent. :I can’t be everything that you need, Chosen. You say that you live for your friends, but how many words have you spoken to Savil this week? And you should have friends your own age, I think:

He scrunched up his face. :That’s unfair. I’m rotten company, you know that. What makes you think anyone even wants to be my friend?:

Moondance was smiling softly. “I think perhaps I can guess what you are thinking? That you have nothing to give others, and no one would wish your presence? Well, I seek your company. Have you noticed?”

He had noticed. “Why?” Moondance seemed to be well liked, in the Vale. No wonder. He was a good listener and a good storyteller. He could have as many friends as he wanted, surely; he didn’t have to settle for someone who was always going to be broken.

Moondance shrugged. “I see myself in you, young Vanyel. And I know that sometimes pain shared is easier to bear. Though I am not always so good at following my own advice.”

Vanyel scrabbled to sit up, curious despite himself. “What do you mean?”

Those eerie blue eyes met his. “There are...things we have in common. Hurts we have both experienced. I, too, grew up in a place where, where my preferences were not welcome – and for a long time I thought I was cursed.” He chuckled, humourlessly. “Even once I knew better. Starwind tries to understand, but I do not know if he can wrap his head around...well, being seen as wrong for existing. It is not like that, here.”

I’m a curse on everything I touch...

Yfandes gave him a hard mental shove, disrupting his thoughts before he could get very far into the endless, practiced litany. :Hey!: he retorted, and she responded with only a sort of smug disapproval.

“We cannot help the way we were born,” Moondance said. “And...and as for those claims that it is unnatural, well... I work closely with the land, and I have spent much time observing the natural world. Of the wild beasts, there are many that form partnerships for life. And among all those species, sometimes, those partnerships are between two of the same sex. Is it common? No. It would not be desirable, for the good of the species, for it to be too common. And yet, we see it. How can our natures be an abomination, when these innocent wild creatures that know nothing of sin can be the same?”

Vanyel shook his head, confused. “I...don’t know.” He wasn’t sure how far he trusted that argument; it wasn’t like wild animals were always nice to each other.

“Well, think on it.”

He looked at Moondance’s face. The Hawkbrother’s voice had been light, casual, but the look in his eyes was anything but. He was hard to read, but there was deeper pain there.

“Something really bad happened to you, didn’t it?” he heard himself say. “Before you came to k’Treva?” Come to think of it, he had no idea how Moondance, clearly born elsewhere, had ended up at k’Treva in the first place. Except that it had something to do with Savil, somehow. She had said it wasn’t her story to tell.

Moondance ducked his head and a strange, dark look flashed across his face. “I...do not often speak of it.”

:That’s an understatement: Yfandes sent. :According to Kellan, he’s never actually told anyone about what happened. Savil knows, because she was there, and Starwind knows through Savil. No one else:

Oh. He took a deep breath. What was Moondance up to? What did he want?

:To be your friend: Yfandes sounded amused. :Friendship goes both ways, though:

He tried to decode that. “Um. Moondance, if – if you want to talk about it...” He trailed off.

Moondance looked up. “You continue to surprise me, youngling. It would… It would do me good, I believe, to speak of this thing.” His shoulders rose and fell as he took a deep breath, and then a strange blankness came into his face. When he spoke again, it was almost without expression.

“There was a boy called Tallo, once. His parents were farmers. Simple, good people, tied to their land and their way of life. Tallo was not like them, and they did not understand the things he felt inside himself, though they loved their son and they tried very hard. They sent him to the village priest, for learning, and that was when the boy Tallo learned, from books the priest found for him, that he had what was commonly called magic. He began attempting to teach himself, and this made him ever more different from his family and his friends. He began spending much time alone. Tallo’s parents did not understand the changes in him, and there were arguments, and anger on both sides. They wished him to marry, wished for grandchildren, but he felt nothing for any of the girls they suggested – instead, his longing was towards young men.

“Then, one summer, a troupe of gleemen came to the village. Among them was a very handsome young man, and Tallo quickly learned he was not the only young man in the world who felt yearnings towards his own sex. They became lovers. Tallo planned to run away and join the troupe when they left the village – but before this could happen, the two were found together. And as such a thing as shay’a’chern was forbidden even to speak of – his parents, the priest, the entire village came together against the lovers. They beat Tallo and the handsome gleeman, and cast them out.

“It was then that his lover, in his anger and hurt, pushed Tallo away and claimed to want nothing of him, though he did not truly mean it. Tallo, in rage and fear, called the lightning with his half-learned magic. He–” and now Moondance’s flat, toneless voice faltered for the first time, and Vanyel saw wetness glistening on his eyelashes, “he did not mean to do anything more than frighten the young man, but that was not what happened. Called by anger and not skill, the lightning would not obey him, and Tallo struck his lover dead, the boy crying out his name as he died.

“Tallo could not live with what he had done. He took his dead lover’s dagger and slashed his own wrist, believing that only his own death could atone for his actions.”

Moondance bowed his head and his slim shoulders shook. After a moment, he sat up, pushing his long hair out of his face. His sleeve fell back, and Vanyel saw – and really noticed for the first time – the pale scar that ran from his wrist nearly to his elbow.

Every syllable was like a weight dropping from his mouth. “Fortunately, there was a stranger on the road that day, an outlander who had sensed the out-of-control power and came as quickly as she could – too late to save both, but she saved the one she could, and she brought Tallo to an old friend. For Healing, and because she thought that Starwind might understand.”

Silence. Vanyel had no idea what to do or say.

Moondance shrugged, finally, and his voice returned to something more like normal. “If the boy Tallo had not misused his untrained powers in anger, he would not have met Starwind, the one who was to be his shay’kreth’ashke. There would not now be a Healing-Adept in k’Treva. So... Good has come of this thing, but it began with murder. And the boy Tallo, though he found forgiveness in k’Treva, and the teaching he desperately needed, he could not forgive himself. And so Starwind declared the boy Tallo dead by his own hand, and brought into the world a new person, one Moondance k’Treva. One now changed by magic into a man so like the Tayledras that he might have been born one.” He held up both hands, helplessly. “But for all of that, Tallo still grieves.”

Vanyel had no idea how to respond. One the one hand – Moondance had Starwind, he’d said as much himself. His story had a happy ending. He had lost only a casual lover, not, not... He couldn’t finish that thought. On the other hand, he could see how much it had cost Moondance, to tell this story. He was still shaking, his cheeks wet. Vanyel’s own eyes were stinging.

:I don’t know what to say!: he sent to Yfandes, helplessly.

:I don’t think there’s a right or a wrong thing to say, just...it would hurt him, if you pushed him away now:

He could see that, he wasn’t stupid. “I’m sorry,” he said finally, unable to think of anything better.

Moondance lifted his head, and again there was a flash of surprise. He dabbed at his eyes. “Thank you. I do not mean to compare Tallo’s pain to yours, Vanyel. I know you have lost so much more. But – would you share your grief with Tallo? Weeping alone does not bring the same comfort.”

Vanyel realized, after a moment, that he had never told anyone his story either. Oh, Savil knew exactly what had happened, and so presumably did Moondance, but he hadn’t talked about it. Could he? It would be a fair exchange, he thought, an offering of friendship, but... No – he didn’t think he could. Just thinking about it made his whole mind lock up. There was a painful lump in his throat, one he couldn’t speak past. He reached out to Moondance with a mindtouch, instead, and even then it was hard to be coherent. :Can’t talk, but...don’t go?:

He heard chair legs scraping, then felt a feather-light touch on his shoulder. “I came now because I have no further duties for several candlemarks,” Moondance said. “I will stay as long as you wish.”

Midwinter approached. It was strange, being surrounded by summer heat and verdant foliage, in this place with no seasons.

Savil kept urging him to socialize, and he was trying hard. When he had asked Moondance for help learning the Tayledras language, the Hawkbrother had only smirked and asked if he was willing to do it ‘the fast way’ and put up with a headache for a day or two. It came out that Savil hadn’t needed to learn their language the hard way after all – Starwind and a few others had the skill of imparting knowledge directly into a person’s head, through some strange use of the Mindspeech Gift. It seemed like it would save a lot of time, so he agreed, and Moondance coaxed him into trance so that his lifebonded could do the honours.

After that, he did start spending time with the other Hawkbrothers his age. It wasn’t as awkward as he had expected. They seemed to be making a deliberate effort to be friendly and include him, though they treated him carefully at first, like something that might break, or explode if handled wrong. But less so as time went on.

He knew many of their customs now, as well as the language, so some things were less shocking than they might have been, but still uncomfortable. The other young people here flirted constantly and shamelessly. In fact, so did the adults; he hadn’t noticed before because he hadn’t really spent any time with anyone other than Starwind and Moondance.

It was a little like the courtly games of flirting, though different in all the particulars. The largest difference was that it wasn’t only the girls who flirted with him – and, once he started paying attention, the number of same-sex pairings was obvious and startling. No one acted like Starwind and Moondance’s partnership was a big deal because apparently it wasn’t, here.

The second-largest difference was the nudity and the mindboggling amount of casual touch. The Vale was full of hot springs, after all, which were a favourite pastime. Many parties would end with half the people piled up like puppies, just cuddling, and the rest going off in pairs to find secluded corners.

The day of Midwinter came and he tried his best to enjoy the festivities, or at least go through the motions. It turned out the Tayledras had a festival for it as well, though it was completely different than any he’d seen before. He spent the morning outside the Vale with some of the scouts close to his own age, building forts out of snow and throwing snowballs at each other, even play-wrestling with a very handsome boy called Daystar who had recently been paying him particular attention. They piled back inside the Vale to thaw out in one of the pools, and then there were games and contests. He ended up in a song-contest with a young woman called Snowlight, and afterwards she taught him a duet in Tayledras and he taught her ‘Sun and Shadow’.

He started to feel overwhelmed, then, and had to go spend a candlemark alone with Yfandes, finding his balance again.

The evening was different – it was solemn, and included songs that everyone seemed to know except him, though he picked up the tunes quickly and was able to at least hum along.

They blew out all the torches and lanterns, and the Vale was completely dark. He looked up and realized he could see the stars, incredibly bright.

Someone read through a list of the people who had died that year. For a clan-group of just a few hundred people, eight deaths was quite a lot, and only two were of natural causes. He hadn’t realized before this how dangerous their lives were, working in these untamed lands, slowly cleansing the wild magic and making them safe. Like Heralds. He stood with Savil and she reached out to take his hand as Snowlight led approximately the entire population of k’Treva through the saddest song he had ever heard.

Sun / sailing away / I don’t know where / I don’t know why

Sky / darkening grey / Wishing there weren’t / so many goodbyes

Then another elder read a list of that year’s births, nine of them, just enough to outbalance the deaths, and with each name, someone relit one of the torches around her. It must have been with magic, because nothing and no one else moved.

After that they sang a different, happy song, a call-and-response that devolved into a mass of interweaving harmonies. Starwind had a pretty good singing voice, which was surprising; Vanyel had never heard him sing. He and Moondance were nearby, holding hands, their bondbirds on their shoulders – he was always amazed by how big they were. After the song they kissed – a lot of couples were kissing, he noticed suddenly – and he felt a pang of loneliness and looked away.

Then the rest of the torches and lamps were re-lit and there was music, and dancing. He realized he knew the names and some of the steps for the dances, apparently the knowledge had come along with the language-dump. He saw a lizard-like creature, about chest height on a man, offering a tray of drinks, and realized he was seeing one of the elusive hertasi for the first time. He accepted a drink, it was hot and spiced, and then someone was touching his shoulder and he looked and saw that it was Daystar, holding out his hand and a delicate tendril of Mindspeech.

:Dance with me?: He hadn’t realized the scout was Gifted; he wasn’t a mage, his hair was still mostly dark. All Hawkbrothers went white eventually, surrounded as they were by the magic of the Heartstones, but it took much longer for non-mages.

He stood frozen for a moment, watching torchlight reflect in the other boy’s eyes, staring at his outstretched hand. Mindspeech was more intimate than spoken words; it felt a little like Daystar had started taking off his clothes, right there, and that didn’t bother him nearly as much as he thought it should have.

:I think you should dance with him: Yfandes offered. :He’s not expecting anything from you, Van, except perhaps to have fun together, and that would be very good for you:

So he reached out to take Daystar’s hand. :I’m not very good at dancing: he sent back, and got back only laughter as he was pulled into the circle of dancing bodies.

It was a very complicated dance, fast, spinning around, trading partners, but some parts felt familiar and Daystar sent little mental prompts for the rest. When the song finally ended, he was warm and out of breath and a little dizzy, and let the other boy catch his arm and lead him off to the side, snagging a cup of cool water from a hertasi and handing it to him.

:I think you will make a very good dancer with a little practice: Daystar sent, and there were definite overtones there – attraction, even lust, and a lot of curiosity.

He gulped the water. :Perhaps we should practice more, then?:

They danced another four or five dances, by which point they were both flushed and sweating, in need of a longer break. Daystar, who clearly knew every corner of the Vale, led him to one of those benches that seemed to be grown in place out of vines. They sat.

:May I braid your hair?: Daystar said softly, almost shy in his head.

He hadn’t cut his hair since leaving Forst Reach – gods, how many months ago had that been? It fell past his shoulders now, which he liked, though he was less pleased by the white hairs he was already finding. :All right: he answered, suddenly feeling shy as well.

He was feeling sleepy, too – it had been a very long day – and he enjoyed the feeling of the other boy’s fingers in his hair. He closed his eyes, relaxing, his body feeling pleasantly heavy after today’s exertion.

Then Daystar’s hands moved away. He opened his eyes. The Tayledras boy was holding something out. It was a feather.

He knew what that meant, and he froze. :’Fandes, help!: He could sense her presence, she felt very smug, but she didn’t answer. He stared at Daystar’s face as though trying to read a map in the angular lines of his cheekbones and jaw.

Offering someone a feather had a very specific meaning, among the Tayledras.

:Vanyel, I didn’t mean to frighten you: A soft tendril of Mindspeech, held out like an altar offering. :I won’t be hurt, truly, if you don’t want to take my feather. I won’t think any different of you, either way. I like you and today was fun. I’m an Empath, and I know that you’ve...that something terrible happened to you. I don’t want to make any demands on you. Three other people have my feathers already; I’m not exactly lonely. It doesn’t have to mean anything more than what you want it to mean. I just... I like you:

He stared into the other boy’s blue eyes – like open windows, he thought, hiding nothing. In the lamplight, Daystar’s skin could have been painted with gold.

:Three people?: he said finally.

Daystar laughed. :I forget, you come from a place that is very different. Yes. None are serious. If you are curious – Snowtree, Nightfire, and Summerlight:

Vanyel felt his eyes widen. He knew all the people mentioned. The first two were roughly their age, but Summerlight was, to his best knowledge, at least forty, lived with a woman, and had small children. Daystar was older than Vanyel, but surely not by more than a few years.

:You are surprised: Daystar was grinning. :Starwind told me that Savil was quite shocked, too, the first time she came here. I am told she became used to it, though:

Savil did seem much more comfortable with displays of affection here – perhaps because it was treated so much less seriously? She didn’t like commitments, he found himself thinking, didn’t like people making demands on her – maybe because her duty as a Herald had always come first. She would still roll her eyes and make disgusted noises when Starwind and Moondance started getting especially touchy-feely in front of her, but he had seen her giving and accepting shoulder massages in the hot springs, and even exchanging a few kisses with Nightsun in public.

:Um, do most people have feathers from more than one person?: he said, still trying to wrap his head about it.

Daystar laughed. :Not most, but among the young people...Well, we tried to draw it all out once. It was quite a complicated graph. I think Snowlight might still have it:

After a very long moment of thought, he shook his head. “Maybe another time,” he said out loud. “But…thank you.”

He felt less awkward than he had expected, afterwards, but he still hovered on the edges of the party after Daystar went to dance with someone else.

:Love, his feelings aren’t hurt: Yfandes sent. :You did nothing wrong:

He leaned against a broad tree trunk, resting his head on the warm, rough bark. :I feel like I was leading him on, or something:

:Does it matter? You heard him:

And he knew Daystar had meant it, too. It was nearly impossible to lie with Mindspeech.

:I just–: It was so hard to put his confused thoughts into words. :It feels like betraying ‘Lendel, to even to look at him that way:

:I know: Sympathy, understanding. :And you know ‘Lendel wouldn’t want you to feel that way forever. Right?:

His mind knew it. His heart, not so much.

He felt a light touch on his shoulder, and spun around, but it was only Savil. :Ke’chara, are you all right?:

:I’m fine: He leaned into her, though.

:You look like maybe you could use more quiet. Want to come join us in the pools? Starwind and Moondance and Nightsun and I, I mean:

He nodded and followed her through the trees, past dancers and trysting couples. Like at the Midwinter festival celebrated in Valdemar, the Tayledras would keep vigil all night until the sun rose.

Starwind and Moondance were there already, sitting on a soft blanket that the hertasi must have spread out on the side of the pool, a bowl of fruit and a jug of some drink beside them. Or, rather, Moondance was sitting and Starwind was curled with his head in his lap, eyes closed, his long white hair splayed out in damp tendrils. The only light came from a lantern, hung from a branch above their heads.

Vanyel blinked. It was very odd to see his teacher like that.

Savil’s face went blank for a moment, the way it did when she was Mindspeaking. “Nightsun’s coming,” she said out loud. “Said he’d bring some food.”

Vanyel found a corner of the pool and quickly stripped out of his clothes and slipped in; even though it was quite dark and they were well sheltered by dense foliage, he still didn’t feel very comfortable with nudity.

“You know,” Savil said, her voice thoughtful. “This is the first Midwinter I’ve ever spent here.”

“That is true.” Surprise in Moondance’s voice. “You are so important to us, Wingsister, and yet you have not spent so much time here at all.”

Savil slid into the water, sighing, and leaned back, letting one foot drift up to the surface. “I can’t stay, you know that.” She cupped her hands together and poured the warm, mineral-scented water over her face. “I hope they’re doing all right back home.”

There was a rustling from one side of the pools. “Savil?”

She turned, face breaking into a smile. “Nightsun! Come on in.”

They kissed. Vanyel looked away again, feeling out of place.

No one said anything for a long time.

It was Moondance who finally spoke. “Vanyel. There is a thing we wish to say to you, and a thing we wish to ask.”

In his lap, Starwind stirred and opened his eyes. Vanyel nodded cautiously.

Moondance went on. “It has been good to have you here. I know that it has not been easy, but… We are grateful that you came, truly. If you were to leave today, it would have been worthwhile for k’Treva.” He shrugged. “Though we would both ask that you stay some months longer. Your training is not yet complete.

In the pool, Savil grunted. “I’d rather not, but I agree. Besides, Kellan keeps reminding me this may be the only vacation I get for the next ten years. Might as well take advantage of it.” She shrugged. “I was overdue for family leave anyway.”

Vanyel laughed despite himself, and tried to stifle it.

Moondance went on, his voice earnest. “Vanyel, we think of you as one of us – one who unfortunately cannot stay forever, but nonetheless. I would like to offer you this; you will be called our Wingbrother, as your aunt is our Wingsister, and you will always be welcome here.”

Tears sprang into his eyes. “T-thank you,” he managed.

Starwind pushed himself up and sat; he nodded gruffly, and Vanyel felt a fine thread of Mindspeech. :You have earned it, boy:

Moondance only smiled, a little sadly. “You are welcome. And there is another thing, though I am not sure how to ask.” He looked up into Starwind’s eyes. “Ashke?”

To Vanyel’s surprise, Starwind actually blushed – it was barely visible in the lamplight, but nonetheless.

“We have a favour to ask,” he said, very stiffly. “Moondance and I would like to have a child. There are traditions for this, here. We have spoken to Snowlight and she has agreed to bear twins, one of whom will be ours.” He hesitated, and chewed his lip for a second. Vanyel peered at him; he had no idea where this was going.

Starwind looked helplessly at Moondance, who shrugged and went on for him. “Neither of us can do what is required with a woman. We have tried. Yet there are other traditions, where one may ask a close and dear friend…” He averted his eyes, flushing as well. “Vanyel, you are a close and dear friend to us. We think it good to bring outside blood to the Vale, also. We would not ask, but…”

The words finally fell into place. Oh. He had no idea what to say; he felt his own cheeks warming, and his eyes prickled. :Yfandes! Did you know they were going to ask me this?:

:No!: She felt amused, as well as deeply touched. :I think it’s very sweet:

:It’s so awkward: He wasn’t sure how he would ever meet Starwind’s eyes in lessons again – whether he said yes or no!

:Many things in life are: He felt the tickle in his mind that meant she was checking something in his memories; he didn’t mind when she did it, these days, it saved time. :They’re telling the truth – this is a custom here, and not so unusual. And it won’t be the first time you’ve bedded a girl you felt nothing for:

:True: He had met Snowlight at the celebrations, and it sounded like she was one of Starwind and Moondance’s closest friends – someone he could trust, at least in theory. That would help.

“I’m honoured,” he heard himself say. “I– Of course.”

Moondance’s eyes were suspiciously shiny. Starwind slipped an arm around him and squeezed him hard. Vanyel blinked, suddenly imagining Starwind caring for an infant. It wasn’t a picture that came easily to mind.

“Congratulations,” he heard Savil say, dryly. Gods, he had actually forgotten she was there and listening. His face was flaming now.

Moondance was smiling fit to split his face in two. Starwind watched him indulgently.

Vanyel, you are a close and dear friend to us. He replayed the words in his head, and was surprised how warm it made him feel, and how much it pleased him to see Moondance’s obvious joy.

…And, with a jolt of surprise, he realized he was happy; that he’d been having fun most of the day. His face was sore from the unaccustomed smiling. It felt fragile, uncertain, he wasn’t sure how it was possible…but it was there.