VI. A World Away
Buzzing awoke Vahn. In his head. Across his body like something inside was imploring he open his eyes again. He worried he’d see nothing but the champagne glow inside the stasis chamber before the magic within whispered him back to sleep, but what he saw this time was the road. What he smelled was not Space Magic, but… sunshine. Curious. He blinked away the sleep from his eyes and it was another moment before he remembered. Hawke. The name like a homecoming in his head.
It hadn’t been a fevered dream. Hawke had actually managed to save him. Vahn jerked with an inhale, noticing he was on Hawke’s back, and wiggled to get down. Hawke didn’t let him go and just snorted.
“Stay there,” Hawke said, exhaustion stretching his words. Exhaustion because of Vahn. He thought to refute the point—he could walk on his own, surely—but Hawke kept talking. “You’ve tried to get down three times now and fainted every time.”
Ah. Sensible to stay put, then. Vahn nodded and settled against Hawke’s back, a little glad he could. It felt much sturdier than Vahn would ever be on his own. He glanced at his shoulder and noticed the familiar strap of Hawke’s lute on him. He raised an eyebrow.
“Why’s your lute with me?” he asked.
“Couldn’t carry you if it was on my back,” Hawke said. “I got your bag, though.”
So he did. It went one way across Hawke’s back, resting at his side, and Hawke’s own bag went the other way across him to rest at his other side. The sight must have been curious to anyone passing.
Relaxing a little, Vahn rested his cheek on Hawke’s shoulder. The sun had begun to sit along the horizon. Orange fluttered across the sky in streaks. The islands were too far away to tell which one was coming or going. Which meant they were safe. Vahn exhaled.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“Psh, why?” Hawke asked. “You weren’t the one that threw yourself into whatever that was.”
Except Vahn sort of had, by being there at all to incur Irius’ wrath. The sensible thing would have been to stay down here and just make do with what they had. It wasn’t like they’d found anything worthwhile beyond the possibility that Elwick was simply using the name and that wasn’t actually who he was. Useless, all things considered. Vahn kept the thoughts to himself.
“Stasis chamber,” he supplied for Hawke and the bard shrugged a shoulder. “It renders the captive magician inert and pliant. Can’t seduce your way out of it like you can with the cells down here.”
“Saw that,” Hawke said. “Glad we got you out.”
A cart shambled past them, but Hawke didn’t try flagging it down for a ride. Vahn peered ahead and saw why; there was a stout building a ways ahead. Reachable before it grew too dark. Maybe a roadside inn given the carts lingering around it. Even farther was a shimmer in the summer haze. The twinkling lights of a town settling in for the night.
“Soo,” Hawke said, magic coating the words. “You and that guy?”
“Senwin?”
“Yeah. Him. Didn’t have much time to talk. Citrine said he was your professor?”
Fishing for information, but Vahn didn’t blame Hawke. He was also sure Citrine had said more, but he indulged the bard. Maybe talking would help him feel more awake.
“He was my professor yes, but also my thesis advisor. He helped me form it and pushed me to do better. I studied the cosmic school of magic—space and time together—and its effects on enclosed spaces.” Vahn gently nudged his bag hanging at Hawke’s side with his knee. “My bag, essentially.”
“Ah,” Hawke said. “Not Citrine’s portal?”
“That’s a secret.”
They shared a soft chuckle. If Vahn hadn’t been chosen for the Wayfarer Magician, he might have used it as evidence his mind was much better suited as a researcher under Senwin’s employ. Well, perhaps not his directly to avoid favoritism…
“Just his student?” Hawke asked, interrupting Vahn’s thoughts.
Asked in such a way, Hawke already knew the answer. Vahn hummed. “We slept together,” he answered. “A lot.”
Hawke laughed, a good-natured sound, and it brightened Vahn’s mood. “Yeah, that’s what Citrine told me, too. I can see why. Silver fox and all that.”
“I may have acquainted myself with many of my professors,” Vahn admitted.
And Vahn was gladder still when Hawke continued snickering, nodding. “Can hardly blame you for that. Everyone seems too tightly strung up there. Might have done you guys some good.”
“And you don’t judge me for it?” Vahn asked.
The question slipped out. Hawke stopped and after a pause, like he was thinking, he let Vahn down, likely absolved that Vahn was past the point of fainting again.
The ground felt nice underneath Vahn’s legs. He’d missed standing on the World Below. There was something grounding about it, touching the world they lived on so closely.
Hawke faced Vahn and was concerned. Vahn’s stomach twisted; he wished he hadn’t voiced the worry aloud.
“Why would I judge you?” Hawke asked. “You know me and pretty faces.”
“That I do,” Vahn said, trying to unprick Irius’ barbs. The man had meant to hurt, get under Vahn’s skin, and Vahn hated how he let it happen. No matter what Vahn had or hadn’t done, Irius’ opinion of him was unchangeable. It did Vahn no good to listen to the man. Not then. Not now. Not ever.
Vahn left it at that and began their trek forward, measured and slow. Hawke kept pace beside him. Vahn couldn’t help it and looked upward at the softening sky. “I… I thought my capture would have gone better,” he admitted. “I figured it’d be a researcher I knew and I was correct. If it had just been me and Senwin, well.” Vahn shrugged and Hawke hid another smile. It would have been much better, that’s for sure. “But then Irius was there.”
“That man’s a real piece of work,” Hawke said.
“I know,” Vahn whispered. “I wish Senwin had done more, but I don’t know why I did. He can’t stand against a High Magician.”
Sure, Senwin had come to save him. Gave Hawke the means to find him. But it still hurt. Remembering how Senwin just stood there, letting Irius hurt Vahn with magic.
Vahn supposed it did no good to dwell on it. If everything went well, he wouldn’t be back up there for years. By then, Senwin will have moved on. Vahn would hopefully have as well. Everything between them in the past, disappointments but a fuzzy memory.
“Did you see Irius?” Vahn asked.
“Briefly.” Hawke shuddered and wrapped his arms around himself. “Glad I didn’t say anything around him; if Senwin could tell right away what magic’s in my throat, then I’m sure Irius would have done it in half the time.”
A scary thought and Vahn shuddered too. While Vahn frequently thought about tying down Hawke to take the time to truly dissect the magic in his throat and how exactly it worked, Irius actually would do it with no regard for the bard. Thinking of the scenario led Vahn to thinking about what Irius had said about Elwick. Vahn didn’t buy that Irius was as uninterested as he tried to appear. Something about Elwick had shaken the High Magician, but Vahn was missing exactly what that was.
“Irius knew what Elwick was doing down here,” Vahn whispered. “He and the High Magicians just collectively choose not to help.”
“Yeah, sounds about right,” Hawke replied. “Never expected much from High Magicians, to tell you the truth.”
It should have been scandalous thinking so, even from those down here. Yes, the High Magician’s role was the protection and preservation of the Floating World, but to do so, they had to make sure the World Below didn’t succumb to war or famine. Magic was everywhere and they took the role as overseer of it. Weaving it into new spells and schools, sometimes. At some point, they’d distanced themselves from the World Below and sent lesser magicians down below to do their bidding as Court Magicians.
Vahn still believed at their core, the High Magicians meant well, but even he was beginning to wonder just how well. His own belief was already waning. Blurred at the edges until Vahn was too unsure what he believed. He wanted to be one of them, after all, but what if he turned out just like them? Turning a blind eye to some unknowable magic force and pushing magicians into roles they didn’t even want?
He was brought out of his thoughts when Hawke gently pulled him to the side. A caravan trundled past, a bright splash of paint creating a large teacup along the side of it. As it went, the smell of so many different teas coasted across the breeze. Maybe that was intentional. He certainly wanted a cup, now.
“One more question,” Hawke asked and slowed.
Vahn smiled up at him. “Full of them today.”
“Why does Irius hate you so much?”
Maybe it was better to just explain it rather than hedging around it and hoping it never became relevant. It might now, especially if Irius grew more emboldened to punish Vahn because of his escape. Vahn sighed, heavy and long, and crossed his arms.
“It’s easy to say it’s because he had to take care of a dirt born magician,” Vahn said. “Although he could have given me to any number of families up there until I became of age to go to university, so it was more than just that… As a child, I was enamored with Wild Magic and how I could use it to help my parents.”
Despite being forced to remember their faces because of an illusion forced upon Vahn shortly after meeting Hawke, the faces had grown blurry again with time. It was easier that way. Made it less likely for Vahn to dream and wish things had been different back then. It didn’t matter. The past was the past.
“Irius must have seen some use in that. Before… Before I lost my parents, he’d visit and have me draw star charts for him.”
“Star charts?” Hawke asked, thinking.
“Specifically, through the veil of Wild Magic.” The stars had looked so different back then. For some reason, Vahn couldn’t see it the same anymore, even now down here, but he could never figure out why. “When it became apparent my magic was growing beyond a typical hedge witch’s magic, Irius saw fit to move me to the Floating World. He had me continue the star charts, although I couldn’t do it as well up there because there’s no Wild Magic,” Vahn explained. “I had to remember what I’d seen and as you grow up, you forget the fanciful things you once had memorized. I suppose that was enough for him to deem me a failure. Useless. Never good enough. I must have sent his research back by years, but if he’d simply left me with my parents…”
Then whatever Irius was creating would have been finished. Vahn was sure of that now, seeing the glyphs he’d helped create before he’d even known what they were. The terror he’d felt seeing it completed made him shiver even now, but that quickly gave way to rage.
A rage from being forced to partake in creating what was in all honesty, a weapon. Incandescent anger lit itself underneath Vahn’s skin. Being used as such and then to being discarded just as fast for something that hadn’t been his fault. The bangles became heavy, whisking away some of the building magic. Vahn forged on.
“In Irius’ eyes, that’s all I am. A failure.”
“Sounds more like he was trying to hide something.”
Perhaps that was it. Perhaps that was what fueled the hatred more than anything else. Vahn wished he knew why, all the little details, but Irius would never admit to it.
“Everyone knows Irius’ hatred of me; he made it plenty clear when Senwin sponsored me for the title of Wayfarer Magician.”
He still recalled the way Irius’ voice carried in the hall during the decision. How all his peers and contemporaries heard Irius dress down his every single accomplishment, calling his talents pure luck and not what they were: hard won victories. Senwin was the voice against Irius’, a passionate ring that won over the other High Magicians. They’d considered Irius too harsh on the poor dirt magician and determined to allow Vahn to try his hand at it. Although deep down, Vahn was sure they’d expected him to fail too.
Everyone did.
“Hey,” Hawke said softly, touching Vahn’s shoulder. It brought him back to the present, not buried in the past he tried so hard not to think about.
Vahn clinked his bangles together, dispelling the magic. The rage had washed out of him. It was better that way. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I just…”
Hawke’s fingers tightened reassuringly and Vahn looked up at him. He watched Vahn with such sincerity, anyone would have felt at home simply talking to him. It was like everything could be right again. “Did you want to talk more about it? Would that help?”
The kneejerk answer was no. To bottle it away so it wouldn’t spark magic, but to hells with that. It was making everything worse and words were tripping over themselves just to get out of Vahn’s head.
“It was my home, except I never felt at home up there,” Vahn admitted, keeping Hawke’s gaze as steady as he could. He focused on the familiar warmth found within. “Other than Citrine and her family, I was someone to prove wrong or merely a peer not worth talking to beyond niceties. Even her family kept me at an arm’s length out of fear for their reputation. The only magician worth anything to the Floating World who supported me was Senwin. He gave me the only thing he could in his position.”
“The Wayfarer Magician title,” Hawke said.
“Yes,” Vahn breathed. “It gave me freedom.” He gazed down at his bangles. Freedom of a kind. They glinted so innocently in the setting sun. “I never felt at home anywhere up there. I love Citrine with all my heart, but our lives are so different. Unable to fit together in the ways we wanted it to.”
Vahn hated he wasn’t able to tell her thank you before he left. That was probably the last time he’d see her until his wandering was over. If it was ever over. If he ever allowed it to end. He wasn’t so sure, now. The starkness of how much he’d miss her hit at once and his eyes flooded with tears.
“Hey,” Hawke whispered. He must have seen Vahn’s feeble attempt to hide the tears. Vahn glanced up at him again; the setting sun made his whole being gold. Sunshine incarnate, even as prickly as he was sometimes. “Look, I’m bad at this. I move around so often, I don’t try to get attached. I never even know what to say. But… Would a hug help?”
Said in such a rambling way, Vahn had to chuckle. Attachments. Vahn seemed to have plenty without realizing it himself. The promise he’d made to the High Magicians echoed in his thoughts acknowledging them, however. Never get attached. Learn free among the Wild Magic, but remember the world below him was fleeting. To learn was to wholly devote himself to the cause. Attachments were merely a distraction.
Except Vahn couldn’t uphold the promise. He doubted anyone could, not really. Especially not when the biggest attachment he had was offering him a hug.
“You’re plenty good at this,” Vahn said, intending to leave it there, but he decided once again to indulge himself. “But yes, a hug would help.”
Citrine’s hugs were squishy, but sweet. Like being enveloped in a pastry. Senwin’s were… Well, that was quite a different affair. Vahn couldn’t remember how his parents’ hugs had felt. Hawke’s hugs, meanwhile, were two strong arms pressing Vahn as close as he could, but still being gentle about it. A comforting weight with a sense of grounding Vahn had been missing. He relished the squeeze Hawke gave him, hardly able to hide his smile.
Yes, this was attachment, but quite frankly, Vahn loved it too much to let go.
When they parted, they traded their items back. Hawke got his lute and Vahn got his bag. Its familiar weight made Vahn feel more whole.
The desire to be honest kept bubbling within Vahn and he stopped Hawke from continuing their trek forward. “I said I never felt at home anywhere,” he said and Hawke watched him, curious, “but that was until now.” He paused as Hawke looked confused. Vahn teasingly tapped his chest. “With you.”
It was a moment before Hawke understood. The confusion melted into a shy smile. Seeing it was worth the vulnerability.
“Yeah,” Hawke said and nodded. “I feel that way about you too.”
The moment held, a shared smile between them. Yes, this was home, and Vahn never wanted to let it go for as long as he could. Whatever the future held, this was what he would remember most about his adventure. The times spent with Hawke by his side.
“I’ve got something for you, actually.” Hawke had turned to pull open his bag. It was stuffed full, now that Vahn looked at it. Vahn tilted his head, curious, and Hawke pulled a thick tome free. Odd, for Hawke. He never had tomes in it. Vahn opened his mouth to tease him, but then he felt the magic wafting off it.
The tome from the library. Vahn practically leapt at Hawke to get it in his hands. “You still have it!” he cried. The book that had gotten them caught. The one that felt just like Elwick’s magic.
“Had to keep it since it got us in trouble,” Hawke said, grinning, and handed it over. Vahn about hugged it. The single hint they had to solving the mystery of Elwick. “Figured we didn’t want to come down with nothing, after all.”
Vahn eagerly opened it, thrumming with excitement, but his energy fizzled fast upon gazing at the first page. The letters made no sense. He flipped a few pages in and his frown deepened. Spells were laid across the page. Dozens of them, actually, each one more complex than the last. It created a cipher, hiding what was within. Hawke groaned, pinching his nose, like he had a headache just looking at it.
“Shit! All that for a book we can’t even read?”
Ever dramatic. Vahn closed it and hugged it to his chest. “I can decipher it in time,” he said. The whole book felt like Wild Magic. To think it was hidden up there all this time and he’d never noticed it. “We just need to be a little more patient.”
Hawke returned the smile Vahn gave him. “I suppose that’ll do.”
After Vahn safely deposited it into his bag, they turned toward the roadside inn they’d been walking toward. Lights had been lit all around it, sparkling bright like candles. The tea caravan had set up along the side, even brighter than the inn’s main doors, and the person manning the caravan was waving travelers down. Vahn’s stomach grumbled. Somehow, he doubted Citrine had time to smuggle him pastries.
“I’m famished,” Vahn announced and Hawke laughed, nodding. “What do we have to do to take the inn of all the food it has left? My magic stores are in need.”
Sure, laying out on the grass under the stars would help almost the same, but Vahn craved a good meal about now.
Hawke mirrored Vahn’s own grin. “Oh, I’ve a few ideas…” He patted Vahn’s back and started forward again. “Come on, let’s get you fed, hm?”
Yes, this was home for a magician like Vahn. Following where the wind called with a bard by his side.
🙡🙢
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