(666 A.C.)

The cup of tea sitting on the table in front of Rizen had gone cold. He hadn’t even known they’d had any tea leaves in the house.

To his right, the fireplace crackled and popped. Wanily knelt on the floor to Rizen’s left with a bucket and rag beside her, using both to wash the blood from Ruffles’s coat. The cwn annwn sat in front of her, panting slightly and watching Rizen from the corner of his eye.

Rizen should help her. He couldn’t bring himself to move from where he had his elbows braced on the table and his head resting in his hands.

Mom had looked so crestfallen after what he said. I’m exactly the person you thought I was, he’d told her. But all she had done after that was ask Xyle and Griff if Rizen and Wanily could wait inside while they talked. She had wheeled herself back home with Wanily and Rizen and Ruffles in tow, lit the fireplace, brewed them tea, and left. Rizen could hear soft murmurings from the outside as she talked with the sheriff and deputy, but that was all.

Wanily didn’t break the silence over them. She didn’t demand he help with Ruffles. She didn’t even look at him.

“I’m sorry,” he found himself saying. “I’m sorry, Wanily.”

The words were too paltry for everything Rizen had done. But they were all he had to offer.

Wanily stopped mid-stroke. The rag in her hands, once brown, was a dark red. Her golden eyes didn’t leave Ruffles' coat. “You were trying to kill that soldier.”

Rizen moved his hands to press against his eyes. He nodded.

“Why?” Wanily asked.

“He was a monster.”

“Like your father?”

Rizen dropped his hands and looked at her. Wanily stared up at him. “Worse,” Rizen said. “Worse than my father.”

Wanily continued to gaze at him. Her eyes glistened with tears. “Am I a bad person?” she whispered. “I–I killed him. And you’re right, he was a monster. And I’m glad he’s dead because otherwise I know I’d be looking over my shoulder the rest of my life wondering if he was going to pop up. And that makes me feel even worse, because that was a person. And now he’s just gone, and it’s all my fault.”

Wanily gripped the rag in her hand so tightly that a few drops splattered on the wooden planks below her. Ruffles let out a whine and nosed at her until she relaxed and started wiping at his fur once more. Tears trailed down her face in silent streaks.

A bad person, she said. She’d called Rizen a bad person for killing, too. Even though the both of them killed people that were better off not being able to hurt anyone ever again.

Rizen shouldn’t have attacked the soldier like he did, if only so Wanily hadn’t had to save him. But she had killed to protect Rizen. She had killed to protect anyone the soldier might have hurt.

The soldier was gone forever. But maybe he was better off that way.

“You’re not a bad person,” Rizen said. He wrapped his hands around his cold cup of tea and stared into its murky depths. “You took the life of someone who would have taken yours or mine. And if he hadn’t, he would have hurt someone else. That doesn’t make you evil.”

And, maybe, it didn’t make Rizen evil either. The realization hit him like a punch to the gut. He’d spent so long hating himself for the blood on his hands, asking himself if it was worth it and wondering if he could ever come back from it. But maybe he had nothing to atone for.

Ruffles had never attacked him. Probably because he knew what Rizen was only just coming to realize.

“He’s never coming back,” Wanily murmured. “He was going to kill you and... hurt me. And yeah, maybe now he can’t hurt anyone ever again. But he never gets a second chance, either.”

“Do you think he deserved one?”

Wanily sniffled and swiped at her eyes with her free hand. “I don’t know.”

“I’m sorry that you had to take his life, Wanily,” Rizen said. “But I’m grateful that you did because you saved mine.”

That only made Wanily cry harder, choked sobs tearing themselves from her throat. She dropped the rag altogether and buried her face in hands swathed in watered-down blood.

Rizen would let her cry it out for a bit. Amera knew she deserved it.

Rizen wondered, for possibly the first time, what Wanily’s story actually was. Why she was out here on her own with nothing but her large pack and a dream to learn magic. Now didn’t feel like the time to ask, though, and maybe Rizen didn’t need to. Wanily was here, and she’d saved his life. That was all he really needed to know about her.

From past the front door, Mom’s voice grew louder, and for a moment Rizen thought she was shouting. Then, the front door opened, with Sheriff Xyle holding it open for Mom as she wheeled herself in, and Rizen realized she’d just been drawn closer.

“He’ll be there,” Mom was saying over her shoulder. “Thank you, Sheriff.”

“Take care of yourself, Peyra,” Sheriff Xyle said. The moment Mom was past the edge of the open door, he let it swing shut. Rizen could just barely hear the crunch of his footsteps as he left, another set joining him. No doubt Deputy Griff.

The wheels of Mom’s chair clattered over the wooden floor. She moved herself over, not to her usual spot, but the empty space to Rizen’s right, where Rizen used to sit, back when their family was complete and miserable for it.

She stopped with a sigh, turning to face Rizen. She didn’t say anything for a moment. She looked very tired, Rizen thought, but that she didn’t look disappointed was about all he could ask for.

Wanily was still sniffling quietly from her place on the floor. Mom’s gaze fell to where she could probably just see the top of Wanily’s blonde head. “Why don’t you go try to get some sleep, Wanily?” Mom asked gently. “You’re safe now. Both of you.”

Wanily sniffed, loud, and clambered to her feet. “Ruffles still needs–”

“I’ll finish washing off Ruffles,” Mom said, as soft as a kiss. “You change and get to bed.”

Wanily nodded. Rizen felt a pit open in his stomach when Mom looked back at him. Her eyes were wide with worry, but she didn’t say anything until Wanily had shuffled back to their bedroom and the door had shut behind her.

“Rizen,” Mom started. She stopped, opening and closing her mouth a couple of times before finally saying, “Deputy Griff informed the tribune what happened. The tribune wants to speak with you.”

Rizen swallowed hard. He should have expected that. But even knowing the tribune wanted to see him, he still had no idea what the tribune wanted. Would he be punished for the death of the mercenary? Made to pay back the money they’d spent on the man, maybe? Rizen barely managed to sell anything in town–it would no doubt take him ages to pay off the debt of a mercenary.

Everyone seemed to think that Rizen had killed the soldier. If it spared Wanily from scrutiny and punishment, Rizen wouldn’t contradict them. She certainly didn’t have the money to be paying off any large sums of debt.

“Alright,” Rizen said when it became clear Mom was waiting for a response. She continued to look at him strangely, though, and Rizen arched an eyebrow. “Wait, right now?”

Mom nodded.

Rizen’s heart jumped into his throat. He thought the tribune would at least wait until morning to give Rizen time to collect himself. He couldn’t keep the man waiting, though. “Oh,” he said. “I guess I’ll get going, then. Where is he?”

“He’ll be waiting at the station with the sheriff and deputy,” Mom said. She clearly wanted to say something else but hesitated. Rizen waited until she finally asked, “Do you want me to come with you?”

Rizen frowned. He wasn’t a child anymore–he didn’t need his mommy to hold his hand when facing something scary. Besides, he didn’t want her to come for other reasons entirely. “Stay here with Wanily,” Rizen said. “I’m sure she doesn’t want to be left alone right now.”

Mom let out a sigh, her gaze falling to the surface of the table. “I just–” she clasped her hands in front of her, tight enough that it looked painful. “I feel like I’ve failed you, Rizen. And I’m sorry.”

She had failed him. She’d failed him his entire life. But, didn’t Rizen hold some of the blame, too? He’d never told her anything. He hadn’t wanted to hurt her.

But what about him? Rizen had been putting Mom first for so long, but didn’t he deserve not to hurt, either?

“I’m going to see the tribune,” Rizen said softly. “But we’ll continue this conversation when I get back, alright?”

Mom almost looked like she was going to refute him. But, after a moment, she just nodded.

“Alright,” Rizen said, standing. “I’ll be back.”

He hoped he would return, at least. He still had no idea what the tribune wanted in retribution for killing his soldier. Hopefully it would only be money.

Ruffles moved to follow him when Rizen started toward the door, but Rizen held out a hand. Ruffles stopped, standing there and whining lowly. Half his flank was still red with drying blood.

“Stay here, Ruffles,” Rizen said softly. “Get cleaned up and take it easy.”

Ruffles let out a huff and sat back down. Rizen smiled at him and left, closing the door behind him.

The night was bitterly cold. The air stung in Rizen’s still aching nose, but he forced himself forward. Nothing was going to happen to him. The road leading into town was just as safe as it had been all Rizen’s life. Still, he almost wished Mom had come with him, but what would Mom have done if someone attacked him on the walk back into town?

Rizen warily watched his surroundings as he hurried along the road. He just about jumped out of his skin when he heard an owl hoot somewhere in the distance, followed by softer, garbled mimicries of the sound, no doubt from mocking pixies moving somewhere in the night. Rizen took a shaky breath and continued on, toward town.

The station was closer to the main entrance of Greenspun, but even if Rizen had to walk a longer way, at least he was surrounded by civilization. People who knew him and would maybe help if he started screaming. It wasn’t much but it was enough to soothe his frayed nerves.

He needed to have it together for when he faced the tribune. He might not know what the man wanted, but it couldn’t be anything good.

The station was a squat building tucked into the corner of the town square. The windows glowed with warm, inviting light through their drawn curtains. Deputy Griff was outside, leaning next to the front door. He gave Rizen a tight-lipped smile when he caught sight of him.

“How you holding up?” Griff asked when Rizen was closer. Rizen offered a shrug, and Griff nodded. “Yeah, that’s fair. Alright, let’s not stall. Fair warning, though–the tribune doesn’t seem all that happy about everything.”

Rizen took a deep breath as Griff opened the door to the station and nodded for Rizen to step inside. Rizen did so, forcing himself to hold his head high.

Rizen had never been inside the station. Had passed it countless times and probably should have been dragged to it in the past, but neither Xyle or Griff had ever demanded he step foot inside. The building was more intimidating from the outside, Rizen mused. There was a table in front of him with a deck of playing cards stacked neatly in the middle. Beyond that, a short hallway led to a handful of empty, iron-barred cells. To Rizen’s right, there was a doorway with a currently closed door. Taking a guess, Rizen went and opened it.

Inside, the room was lit by lanterns hanging on the walls. Another large table framed by two chairs on either side sat in the middle of the room. The tribune sat in one chair, to the left of where Rizen stood, while Sheriff Xyle leaned against the far wall. They hadn’t been speaking when Rizen opened the door, and both turned to look at him when he entered.

Rizen didn’t move. The tribune didn’t say anything. Eventually, Sheriff Xyle cleared his throat. “I’ll leave you to it, Octavus, sir,” Xyle said, glancing at the tribune. The tribune nodded, one ringed finger tapping against the tabletop as Xyle maneuvered over to the doorway.

Rizen stepped aside to let him pass, and Sheriff Xyle gave him a smile that matched his deputy’s. He didn’t say anything to Rizen, though, just took the door from him and motioned for Rizen to enter the room. When he did, Xyle shut the door behind him.

Rizen stared at the tribune–Octavus. Octavus stared back. He didn’t stop tapping his finger.

Eventually, the man motioned toward the other chair. “Come,” he said. “Sit.”

Rizen stepped forward, acutely aware of how tight his chest felt as he pulled out the chair and gingerly sat in it. The tribune stared at him. Rizen stared back, refusing to be cowed by the intensity of his gaze.

The tribune grunted, finally breaking the silence. “So, I hear you’ve killed one of my men.”

Rizen said nothing. It wasn’t the truth, but he wasn’t about to refute it.

“Those mercenaries aren’t cheap, you know,” the man continued after a long pause. Probably waiting to see if Rizen had anything to say. “Briam, the one you killed, asked for five thousand strult upfront. That was only five months ago. So, I paid a thousand strult a month for a man that never saw combat with Kra’xen or Vixx. You’ve cost your country no small amount of money.”

So the tribune was going to ask Rizen to pay him back. Rizen could barely afford to buy a single flower every week–how was he going to afford to pay back five thousand strult?

“Do you have anything to say for yourself?” Octavus asked. He didn’t seem angry. He didn’t seem anything, except bored. He spoke with barely any inflection, face as blank as a fresh piece of paper.

He gave away nothing of what he was actually thinking. Rizen found he didn’t particularly care for his games.

“If you’re expecting me to say sorry,” Rizen drawled, “you’ll be waiting a very long time.”

Octavus stared at him, scarcely blinking, finger still tapping against the wood under his hand. Finally, he smirked. “You’re not sorry you killed a man?”

“He was going to rape a little girl.”

“Was he not still a person?”

“He was,” Rizen conceded. He thought of the conversation he had earlier with Wanily and scowled. “But maybe some people don’t deserve second chances.”

The smirk evaporated from Octavus’ face, leaving him blank and emotionless once again. “What do you think of the war, Rizen?”

Rizen shouldn’t have been surprised he knew his name. Sheriff Xyle or Deputy Griff no doubt relayed everything they knew about the situation to the tribune. That didn’t explain why he was asking Rizen about the war of all things.

“I can’t say I think of it much at all,” Rizen said haltingly.

“Right,” Octavus said. “You have a crippled mother at home, correct? Can’t be coming and going as you please when you have to worry about her, hm?”

Rizen really didn’t like where this conversation was going. “What of it?”

“I won’t beat around the bush any longer.” Octavus leaned forward, clasping his hands together. His rings glimmered in the light of the lanterns on the walls. “You’re a poet, yes?”

Rizen frowned. “An aspiring one,” he conceded slowly.

“And you’ve killed a man,” Octavus continued. “If not my man, then that pig that masqueraded as a person and you called father, hm?”

Rizen froze. “Who told you–?”

“I will admit,” Octavus said, completely cutting Rizen off, “you caught my attention some time ago with your poetry. So I did some digging and asking around. Do you know why, Rizen?”

Rizen glared at him. He shook his head.

“Because I am looking for someone to help me research new spells for the war effort,” Octavus said. “Someone who would apprentice under me and be my right-hand man. These mercenaries–” Octavus waved a dismissive hand– “just don’t quite cut it. They have no stake in our affairs, understand?”

“I don’t think I do.” Rizen’s glare had slipped away at some point while Octavus was talking, and now he was sure he just looked bewildered. “You want me to–?”

“Be my apprentice. Yes.”

“But why?” Rizen demanded, completely baffled.

The tribune leaned back again, appraising Rizen for a moment. “Do you know much about new magic, Rizen?” When Rizen shook his head, the man grunted. “There is something special about poetry,” Octavus said. “It is wisdom Amera bestowed on us when she came to our world and fought off the Tyrant. Phrases that rhyme, yes, but poetry in general can be shaped into a powerful component of spellcasting. With intent, skill, and enough power, our language can shape spells. But, we were not given many spells by Amera. We must find them on our own.” Octavus gazed heavily at Rizen. “Do you understand?”

“You want me to transfer my skill with poetry,” Rizen said slowly, “to research on new spells?”

“That, among other things. Like I said, it could prove quite useful to the war effort.”

So not only did Octavus want him to create new spells, he wanted him to make new spells to kill people. Rizen suddenly understood why he cared about the blood on Rizen’s hands.

Rizen had thought it himself earlier in the night. If he already had blood on his hands, what was some more?

There was a difference here, though, Rizen thought. His father, that soldier–they were people that were trying to hurt others. Soldiers, even enemy soldiers, were just trying to defend their land, people, and families. They were all just trying to go home.

But they were still hurting the people of Lirende. Rizen’s people. Which side was good and evil in a war? Could Rizen justify researching weapons if it meant his country eventually came out on top? That the men and women of his nation would get to come home?

That wasn’t the only thing making Rizen hesitate though. “My mother,” Rizen said. “I can’t leave her. And the girl living with me right now, Wanily, she’s the one that wants to learn magic. Not me.”

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Octavus shrugged. “I’m not making the offer to her,” he said. “I’m offering to teach you what I know about magic in exchange for your effort in developing more spells. You’ll, of course, be paid for your assistance. I’m sure that will help offset the cost of the man you killed.”

Rizen swallowed, hard.

“I will not force your hand, however,” Octavus continued. “I am going to leave this town in two days’ time. I’ve already spent too long here. Give me your answer before then, whatever it might be.” Octavus motioned to the door. “That will be all.”

It was a dismissal if Rizen ever saw one. He stood and left the room, shutting the door behind him. He found Sheriff Xyle and Deputy Griff outside the building, the two of them speaking softly a handful of paces from the front door. They spun to face him the moment Rizen exited the building.

“Well? What happened?” Deputy Griff demanded. Sheriff Xyle elbowed him, but Griff remained unapologetically wide-eyed and curious.

“He offered me an apprenticeship,” Rizen said, staring at the ground. “To learn magic and start researching more spells.”

There was a beat of silence, and when Rizen looked up, he found both men staring at him. “That’s a good thing, isn’t it?” Sheriff Xyle asked slowly. “It’s a great opportunity. You can–and I hope I’m not overstepping–but you can finally leave this town and everything that happened behind you.”

Rizen licked his lips. They tingled in the chill of the winter air. “I can’t leave my mother.”

Both of them frowned. Deputy Griff was the first one to respond. “Why not?”

Rizen gaped at him. “What do you mean, why not? She needs me to take care of her. It's not like–I mean, she's not able to do all the things around the house. So I have to.”

The sheriff and deputy shared a look. “You know,” Sheriff Xyle said, “we wouldn't let anything happen to Peyra if you weren't around anymore to help her. And she’s plenty capable by herself.”

Rizen just shook his head. “I'm going home,” he murmured. “Thank you for all your help today.”

“Rizen–” Griff started, but Rizen just pushed past them. “Rizen!”

Rizen ignored him, ducking his head and hurrying back down the road toward his home.

He fumed the whole walk back. He couldn't just leave. He had to–had to look after Mom. He couldn’t let her live in that house, alone, a widow abandoned by both her sons. Rizen didn’t want to be like Crizo. He wanted–He wanted–

What did he want?

By the time he had reached the front door of his house, he felt defeated. Deflated. The fight had gone out of him, and his face still hurt a little, and after everything he just wanted to sleep for a day.

He opened the door and found Mom still sitting at the table, gazing down at her hands clasped in her lap. She started at the opening of the door but offered Rizen a smile when he stepped inside. She patted the spot in front of his usual seat in invitation.

Rizen did not want to talk to her. He didn’t want to do anything but sleep. He sat back down in his chair anyway. Notably, Ruffles was gone, and the untouched tea had been cleared away.

“What did the tribune say?” Mom asked, her voice rough.

Rizen sighed. Looking at the table instead of at her, he said, “He offered me an apprenticeship.”

Mom didn’t say anything. Rizen eventually looked up at her expecting to–well, he wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting. Maybe for her to be angry at the thought of Rizen leaving her? Upset about it, at least. But instead, she was smiling at him, tears in the corners of her eyes.

“Did you accept?” she asked, her voice slightly awed.

Rizen frowned. “Why would I?”

The smile disappeared from Mom’s face. “Why wouldn’t you?” she asked, seeming genuinely confused.

Rizen stared at her, but she didn’t take the words back. “I have to stay here.” With you, he didn’t add but he thought went unsaid.

“If you’re worried about me–”

“Of course I’m worried about you!” Rizen snapped. “Don’t be ridiculous, Mother. I’m not going traipsing around the country with a tribune to turn my poetry into a weapon and leaving you here by yourself.”

Mom frowned. “What do you mean?”

Rizen huffed, crossing his arms. “The tribune wants me to use my talent for poetry to create new spells.”

Mom still watched him with her brow furrowed. Eventually, slowly, she said, “I didn’t know you wrote poetry.”

Rizen stilled. “What do you mean?” He’d only done it almost every day for the last few years. How would she not–?

But then, she’d have to be around Rizen to know what he did.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Rizen,” she said, looking down again. “I... I know we’ve drifted apart over the years. After Crizo, and then your father...” Mom shook her head. “I’m so sorry. It must have been so hard on you, but instead of being there for you, I just threw myself back into my work. It... sometimes it feels like we’re just strangers living under the same roof. And that’s my fault, isn’t it? I didn’t try hard enough to bridge the gap between us. I failed you.”

It took Rizen several long seconds to decide on what to say. When he did finally speak, it came out more bitter than he wanted. “What does it matter?”

Mom snapped her head up to look at him. “What? Of course it matters.”

“I’m always going to be here for you,” Rizen said. “I’m not going to abandon you like Crizo did.”

“This isn’t the same, Rizen,” Mom said. “I can take care of myself. If your father were here, he would tell you–”

“Take care of yourself?” Rizen hissed. He’d thought he’d escaped it back in the forest, when it had snapped through his whole body, but now the dark thing in his chest flexed and preened, pressing against Rizen’s ribs. “Take care of yourself!? You couldn’t even take care of me and Crizo! So don’t you dare bring up Dad. He’s not here, and you know why?”

Rizen’s heart hammered in his chest. Mom gaped at him and the sheer vitriol in his voice. But he couldn’t stop himself even if he tried. He’d tucked up the secret so tightly behind his heart, but that dark thing had dredged it out and pushed it up his throat.

That’s what it was, he realized. This dark thing–it was a deep, deep desire to hurt others. He wanted to hurt Mom. He wanted her to hate him, and then–then maybe he could hate her for everything that happened. Crizo, Dad, Wanily–all of it. He wanted someone to blame, and here was his mother, gawking at him. Strangers, she’d called the two of them. He’d never felt so estranged from her before this moment.

“I killed him,” Rizen spat. It burned his throat, like the secret was made of scorching fire. It might as well have been from the way Mom flinched back. “Do you even know why I did it?”

“I–”

“He beat me,” Rizen barreled on. “He beat Crizo worse, though. He’d yell at us and spit on us and hit us as much as he liked, and you never noticed. That’s why Crizo ran away. That’s why I killed him. But you know what? I stayed with you instead of going with Crizo. Even after all of that, I still chose to stay with you. I’m still choosing to stay with you.”

Tears trailed down Mom’s face. She stared at him, mouth slightly parted, for what felt like an eternity. Rizen wished he knew what she was thinking. Eventually, she said, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

And that only made a sharp pain stab through Rizen’s head as the thing thrashed in his chest. She didn’t know. She really didn’t know. He’d spent so long believing that, but to hear it confirmed was something else entirely. Dad had never been subtle. All Mom had to do was look, and she would have seen.

Now, she was staring at Rizen like she’d never seen him before.

“Like I said,” Rizen bit, standing, “it doesn’t matter, does it?”

“Of course it matters.” Mom sounded almost like she was pleading. Rizen didn’t understand what could possibly make her sound like that. He scoffed and moved to go back to his room, but Mom seized his wrist as he passed, forcing him to stop. “Rizen, please. I just–I want you to be happy.”

It was too late for that, Rizen thought. Too late for him.

“I didn’t know about your father,” Mom continued. “I should have. I should have paid closer attention to you and your brother. Can I just–” She worked her jaw for a moment, staring up at him. “Do you want to go with the tribune?”

“I already said–”

“That you want to stay with me,” Mom finished for him. “But will you be happy with me?” Rizen opened his mouth, but Mom beat him to it. “And don’t say it doesn’t matter, Rizen. You’re all that matters to me. I know I spend a lot of time on my research, but I need you to understand that. I love you. I just want you to be happy.”

Rizen said nothing. He didn’t even know if he was thinking anything. All he knew was that his chest felt tight and his stomach felt like it had lost its bottom and his mother was lying to him. She had to be. Because otherwise–

She hadn’t scorned Rizen. Didn’t look up at him with the same hatred or vitriol he felt bubbling in his heart. Wasn’t demanding that he leave or repent or anything else.

She said she loved him.

She said she wanted him to be happy. Even after everything he just confessed.

So what did Rizen want? What would make him happy?

“I want to go with the tribune,” he admitted, feeling like he had to sink hooks into the words and drag them out of his throat. “I want to be more than I am. I want the blood on my hands to mean something, and maybe I could do good for our country as part of the army. But I don’t want–” You to hate me, Rizen couldn’t bring himself to finish.

That was still his mother. He wanted her to love him.

Was that all he had sought, all along? For her to love him not as just her son, but as someone she actually felt was deserving of it? As someone she had come to know and cherish? Why would he bother when he didn’t think he even liked her?

He loved her, he reasoned. Even after everything. And he just wanted that love to be reciprocated.

Mom’s gaze turned impossibly sad. Tears raced down her face in earnest. “Rizen,” she said, so gently. He didn’t understand why until his sight began to blur. His breath stuttered and hurt in his chest. “Come here, Rizen,” Mom murmured, opening her arms to him.

Rizen didn’t know what happened. One moment, he was standing next to her, ready to storm off into his room. The next, he found himself on his knees, his arms wrapped around her torso, and his head buried in her shoulder. Sobs wracked his body despite his effort to contain them. But then, Mom had always soothed him when he cried.

She did so now, stroking the back of his head. She didn’t say anything, and Rizen was grateful. His tears were humiliating enough as it was. But, in a way, it felt good to cry after so many years denying himself it.

“I love you,” Mom said. “If you want to go with the tribune, go with the tribune. You don’t need to worry about me anymore, okay? That should have never been your responsibility.”

“Of course I’m going to worry about you,” Rizen choked out into her shoulder. “You’re my mother.”

“Well, I guess I can’t stop you from worrying,” Mom conceded, “but I don’t want that to dictate your life. If you’re not happy, Rizen, go out there and find what will make you happy. You don’t have to stay with me.”

“But–”

“There is no but,” Mom interrupted firmly. Her grip around him tightened. “Find what will make you happy. That’s all there is to it. I can manage on my own. And besides, I’ll have Ruffles. Maybe even Wanily. Go out there and make a real difference in the world, Rizen.”

It felt like second nature for the rebuttals to rise in his throat, but Rizen bit them back. Here was his mother, saying she loved him, giving him permission. What more did he want? If she said he could go, what compelled him to refute her?

Why was he so scared?

She moved her hand to rub circles into his back. Rizen sniffled, finally feeling like he was getting his composure back. After a while of sitting in silence, Mom asked, “Is there anything else you want to tell me?”

Rizen chuckled wetly. Now that she mentioned it... “I’m gay.”

It seemed paltry in comparison to the admission of killing his own father, but Rizen still tensed in Mom’s grip. It wasn’t taboo in Lirende, but it was definitely frowned upon by most. It was alright for women to love each other because their love was pure, but two men? Not so much.

However, she just laughed. “Oh, I knew that one.”

Indignation welled up inside Rizen’s chest, but it was mostly drowned out by shock. “You... knew I was gay but not any of the other stuff?”

“You’re fifteen, and the only time I’ve seen you make eyes at anyone was when we passed Unnya’s son in town.” Mom sighed. “At least I figured out that much.”

Rizen finally pulled away from her. He still rested on his knees, which was not very comfortable on the wooden floor, but it let him grasp his mother’s hands and look up at her. “Are you sure?” he asked slowly. “About me going with the tribune.”

Mom smiled at him. Rizen was sure he would never forget this moment, the fireplace crackling, his face stained with tears, and Mom smiling at him despite the tracks that ran down her own cheeks. He was sure it would haunt him for the rest of his life.

“Do what will make you happy, Rizen,” she said.

That was the problem, wasn’t it? “I don’t know if it will make me happy,” he admitted.

“Well,” Mom started, squeezing his hands, “if it doesn’t, you can always come back home.”

Home. This place hadn’t felt like a home since–well, maybe ever. But maybe he could allow it to be his home, even if he was about to leave it. It could be a place and a person to return to.

“Okay,” Rizen said softly. “Okay.”

Mom smiled at him, not that she ever really stopped. Rizen climbed to his feet, suddenly feeling small and sheepish. Like he was eight all over again and had come to Mom with a nightmare chasing his heels.

“I’m… going to go,” he said. “Check on Wanily and… get my things together.”

He still halfway expected Mom to take the words back. Start yelling at him or something. All she said, though, was, “Let me know if you need any help.”

Rizen nodded, taking a step back before hurrying around Mom and over to his room. In a whirl, he opened and shut the door behind him, forcing himself to breathe deep as he stared at the old grains of the door.

He’d told her the truth. Rizen had told Mom that he killed Dad, and she had told him she loved him.

It didn’t make any sense. What did he hold onto the secret for so long for if she was just going to forgive him? Why did he put himself through so many years of hardship if nothing had happened when he admitted to what he did?

Maybe the sheriff was right. Maybe it was time for Rizen to move on from this place and everything that happened. Now that Mom knew. Now that she loved him anyway.

From behind him, Wanily’s voice sounded. “Are you okay?”

Rizen belatedly realized he still had one hand pressed against the edge of the door and dropped it before turning to face her. She sat on her bed with Ruffles sitting along the length of the frame and her pack sitting at the foot of her bed, all of her belongings neatly tucked inside.

Rizen tore his gaze from her bag and back to Wanily. Her eyes were bloodshot, but there were no tears on her face. “I feel like I should be asking you that,” he said, moving to sit on his bed.

Wanily shrugged. “What did you and Peyra talk about?” she asked.

“What did you and her fight about?” he asked in return. “That’s why you were in the woods in the first place, right?”

Wanily huffed. “I asked first. But,” she looked away from him, fixing her gaze somewhere in the midst of her blanket. “I told her she had failed you.”

Rizen felt his brows raise. “You…”

“She shouldn’t have said those things to you earlier,” Wanily murmured. “You’re a good person, Rizen. I didn’t see it at first, but it’s the truth, isn’t it?”

Rizen wanted to refute it, just on pure reflex. He bit back the urge and instead offered Wanily a smile she wasn’t looking at him to see. “That means you are, too, then.”

Wanily’s expression crumpled. “I killed someone.”

“I know.”

“He was going to hurt me.”

“He was.”

“I don’t regret it,” Wanily whispered. “I hate it, but I don’t regret it. I saved you, and I protected myself. So I don’t regret it, and it feels like that makes me a terrible person.”

There were any number of things that Rizen could say in this instance. But, he thought he knew the right words this time. “You’re not, Wanily.”

Wanily slowly dragged her gaze back up to Rizen, meeting his eye. “I heard you out there,” she said slowly. “You’re going to become part of the army, right?”

Rizen swallowed hard. “That’s right.”

Wanily gripped her hands around each other. “Can we make a promise, then, Rizen?”

Frowning, Rizen asked, “What kind of promise?”

“We’re not going to hurt or kill anybody unless they’re trying to hurt us,” Wanily said. “We’re not going to hurt anyone unless we have to.”

Rizen wasn’t sure that was how war worked. He had no idea if he would even see combat, or if he would just be developing spells from a distance. He doubted he could keep a promise like that when he had no idea what the future held for him.

Despite all of that, Rizen found himself nodding. “Yes,” he said softly. “I promise.”

Wanily nodded, turning away again. She scrubbed at her nose with the back of her hand. “Okay,” she said. “I promise, too. And I’m going to hold you to it.”

Rizen didn’t even know if he’d ever see Wanily again after he left. He doubted she was going to stick around with Mom, so there was practically no chance of seeing her whenever he got to come home. She probably wasn’t even going to stay in the country.

“I have a question for you,” Rizen said. “How did you see the soldier in the forest?”

Wanily pursed her lips. “You couldn’t?”

Rizen gave her a flat look. “Wanily, it was almost pitch black out there. Do you already know some magic?”

Wanily stared at him for enough time that it started to become uncomfortable. Finally, she gave an explosive sigh. “I’m a specialty mage. I can see magic.”

That… explained some things about her, Rizen reasoned. “Oh.” Rizen nodded. “Okay.”

Wanily nodded back. She held herself tensely, like she expected Rizen to do something bad about the revelation. But what would he do? And why? Wanily was still just… Wanily. A stranger that Rizen might be able to call a friend.

Was that how Mom felt after Rizen’s confession? That Rizen was still just her son?

“So what are you going to do?” Rizen asked.

Wanily shrugged. She must have understood what Rizen was asking because she said, “I want to learn magic. I can’t stay here past the winter.” She looked up at him. “What about you?”

“I’ll go to the tribune in the morning and tell him my decision,” Rizen said. “I’ll pack all my things, and I’ll leave with him the day after.”

Wanily nodded. Rizen nodded back. “Just don’t forget your promise,” Wanily said, laying down and burrowing into her blanket. “Okay?”

Rizen took off his shoes and laid down, too. He stared up at the ceiling above him and nodded even though Wanily wasn’t looking at him. “Of course.”

----------------------------------------

Rizen spent the next day packing and dragging his feet until he finally went into town to track down the tribune and tell him his decision. He hadn’t expected Octavus to react much judging by what little Rizen knew about him, but it would have been nice to get more than a blank stare and slight nod.

Tomorrow morning, he’d told Rizen. At the twinkling appearance of the fifth constellation Bosh. Rizen needed to be at the main entrance to Greenspun by then or he would be left behind.

He’d left Octavus behind then without a farewell, not that the man seemed at all offended.

With that done, he went home and spent the time he had left in town with his mother in her workshop. He recited poetry and listened to her reminisce from when Rizen was younger and Crizo was still running around with him and Mom’s attention was on them long enough that Dad didn’t put his hands on them.

“Do you think Crizo is still alive?” Rizen asked her at the end of one story, hushed, afraid of the answer.

“I don’t know,” she responded just as softly. “But if he is, you go out there and find him for me, alright? Tell him it’s okay to come back home now, if he wants. But just knowing he is alive would be enough for me.”

Rizen let out a shaky breath, and let the matter drop. He told himself it would be enough for him to know that Crizo was alive, but the truth was that he missed his older brother. Just as much as he hated him for leaving him behind and never coming back, Rizen also missed him.

He didn’t see much of Wanily in his last couple of days, but he didn’t blame her for that. She was probably still grappling with the fact she had killed a man. Amera knew it had taken Rizen too long to get over his own bit of murdering--he would give Wanily all the time she needed. Even if he had sort of hoped they’d get to spend a little time together before he had to leave. It was silly and Rizen still didn’t like her much, but she had grown on him like an endearing wart. She had saved his life just as he had probably saved hers. He wouldn’t forget that any time soon.

When the day came, Rizen got himself up at the showing of the fourth constellation Yur, a split, Y-shaped cluster of stars. He had already packed everything he planned to take into some spare rucksacks and one well-crafted leather bag that Mom had pulled out from her workshop for him. Now, it was just a matter of getting up and walking to the main entrance of town. He’d be a little early if he left now, but he wanted to save some time for goodbye.

Rizen sat up in bed and glanced over at Wanily’s bed to find she wasn’t in it. Rizen frowned, his heart inching toward his throat. He’d gone to bed early last night to prepare for the morning, and Wanily hadn’t been in bed then either. She hadn’t gotten herself into more trouble while Rizen had been sleeping, right?

He hurriedly dressed, shoved on his boots, and grabbed his bags, all but running out of the bedroom. He hadn’t needed to worry though--the moment he left the room, he saw Wanily and Mom sitting at the kitchen table. Wanily looked half-asleep still, but Rizen was oddly touched that she’d gotten up at all.

“Ready to go, Rizen?” Mom asked, looking over her shoulder at him. She looked tired, too, but she was still smiling.

Rizen skidded to a stop, looking between the two of them. He hadn’t noticed before, but even Ruffles was inside, laying by the lit fireplace and wagging his tail gently. When Rizen stepped closer, he scrambled to his feet and nudged at Rizen’s hand until Rizen dropped his bags and started petting him.

“I think so,” Rizen said, leaving Ruffles and taking his spot at the table for possibly the last time. He liked to think he’d come home again, but who was to say? His gaze fell onto the tulip in the middle of the table, petals still soft and vibrant. “You’re sure about this?” he murmured, not looking at Mom. “You’ll be okay on your own?”

“Go live your life,” Mom said. “I’ll be here if you ever want to come home.”

“And don’t forget your promise,” Wanily chimed in. The sentiment, which was probably supposed to be stern, came out a little weak when she had to stifle a yawn halfway through.

“What promise would that be?” Mom asked, sounding a little bemused.

Rizen found himself smiling. “I won’t forget,” he told Wanily. Then, directed at Mom, “Don’t worry about it.”

He stood, and Wanily stood with him. Mom rolled her wheelchair out from against the table and motioned Rizen over. When he was in reach, she snatched both of his hands, leaving her with no way to brush away the tears trailing down her cheeks.

“Rizen...” She took a deep breath, seemingly searching for what to say. Rizen gave her the space to try to find the right words. Eventually, she squeezed his hands. “Thank you for so many years of flowers. I love you. I’ll miss you.”

Rizen still found all of that difficult to believe, but he wanted to believe it. That must mean something, right?

“I’ll miss you, too,” he murmured, leaning down to give Mom a hug. And if it stretched on for a few seconds longer than it should have, no one had to know. Past the tightness of his own throat, he said, “And I love you.”

He drew back then, hands lingering on Mom’s for another moment before he pulled away completely. He glanced at Wanily. She stepped around the table, closer to Rizen, but Rizen pressed a hand against her head and ruffled her hair before she could get any ideas about hugging him. “Get out there and learn magic, Wanily,” he said, smiling. “Maybe I’ll see you when you become the Archmage.”

Wanily huffed but she was grinning, too. “Of course you will,” she declared. “I’m going to find you when I’m the Archmage, just you wait!”

Rizen chuckled. The moment he drew his hand back, Wanily dove in for a hug, completely foiling his plan. Rizen rolled his eyes and patted her gingerly on the back. If anyone ever asked, he would never admit that he was a little happy Wanily had insisted on hugging him. He wasn’t about to say it, but he thought he might miss her, too.

Last but not least was Ruffles. Rizen knelt down and scratched him behind his ears in just the way he knew the cwn annwn loved. “Be a good boy, okay?” Rizen said. Ruffles’ tail thumped against the wooden floor, and he moved his great snout forward an inch to lick Rizen’s face. Rizen groaned in disgust, standing before Ruffles could do anything else, but he was smiling, too. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll miss you, too.”

Rizen patted Ruffles on the head one last time before grabbing his bags once more. He regarded the tiny party gathered to see him off one last time, smiling. “I’ll see you all later, then.”

He headed to the door. Wanily opened it for him. He nodded to her, smiled at Mom over his shoulder, and finally started the trek toward town. The way forward.