Acela had told D’Argen that Vah’mor was looking for him. D’Argen did not need to be told where to go. If he concentrated hard enough, he could probably feel the mahee of every Never Born in the castle. But not Vah’mor. With them, he did not need to concentrate at all. While mahee called to mahee, there was a piece of D’Argen, a piece of every single Never Born, inside Vah’mor that called to him stronger than anything else. At least, that was how D’Argen explained it to himself when he questioned his connection with one of their strongest.

He skipped two stairs for every one he stepped on as he made his way up the wide staircase leading to the forest tower. It was the tower furthest from the main gates of the castle and the view from the top rooms was of the castle gardens and the large swath of woods behind them. D’Argen liked to stand on one of the high bridges that connected the forest and mountain towers to have a view of the land without the city of Evadia.

Vah’mor liked that view too.

D’Argen could have run up another flight of stairs, even used his mahee to get there faster, but instead, he ran to Vah’mor’s rooms. He did not bother to knock and went right through their receiving chambers and to the balcony. Above the balcony, there was a narrow edge, barely wide enough for someone to stand on, but it had firm handholds. D’Argen jumped, swung to the side until he reached a wider part, then pulled himself up.

The long bridge high in the air that connected the forest and mountain towers was a full body length above him. He jumped to grab the bottom edge and then went hand over hand to climb up. That was when he finally spotted Vah’mor. They were sitting on the ground, leaning against solid the inner wall and looking out through the gaps of the outer wall at the view.

“Hey,” D’Argen said quietly, trying not to startle them.

Vah’mor knew he was there. They turned bright silver eyes to him and then everything felt like it faded away – the countless stars in the sky, the white walls of the castle that almost glowed, even the moonlight. Instead, the moon was split into two pieces that focused on him with the intensity of all the Never Born. The moment passed when D’Argen scented blood in the air.

“You should have told me you haven’t eaten,” D’Argen said with a smile. “I would have brought you something.”

“I am fine,” Vah’mor replied and finally smiled.

Vah’mor. One of the First Five. The consumer. The General of Evadia. Never named as a god by any of the mortals because Acela declared them the God of Protection. Every Never Born agreed. No mortals questioned it.

“Acela said you were looking for me,” D’Argen said and motioned to the ground beside the general.

Vah’mor nodded and then motioned to the spot in front of them instead.

D’Argen sat down and leaned back, his shoulders touching the stone pillars that held the railing up and his back to the open air.

“I missed you during the conference,” Vah’mor said.

“I missed you too,” D’Argen replied with a wide grin.

It took a moment for the double meaning to come across then Vah’mor scoffed out a laugh and shook their head. “Where have you been? Talk to me.”

“Here and there. Everywhere. Acela will probably tell you all about it later, but we went to Sky Mountain. To the summit.”

“We?”

D’Argen nodded and raised his knees, resting his forearms on them. “Lilian, Abbot, Yaling, Thar, and I.”

“Thar was with you?” There was a hard edge to Vah’mor’s voice.

D’Argen looked away and started tugging on one of his fingers. He shifted to another after a few moments and then answered, “Coincidence, really. He was going there to help a small village out. Gather herbs and—”

“And you decided to join him?”

“Coincidence,” D’Argen repeated and finally looked at Vah’mor. They were staring at him with narrowed eyes. D’Argen never understood why Vah’mor disliked Thar so much but he knew that the feeling was mutual. “Anyway, something happened up there and—”

“Did he ask you to join him?” Vah’mor interrupted.

“Join him?”

“North.”

“North?” D’Argen felt like all he could do was repeat and then he remembered. “Thar mentioned something about an expedition north this summer, but nothing else.”

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Vah’mor hummed and looked away through another one of the slats. “You should. If he does,” Vah’mor said and their tone sounded like an apology.

“Have uh… how have you been?” D’Argen asked instead to change the topic.

“Missing you,” Vah’mor replied and the corner of their lips twitched up. D’Argen felt the tension inside him fade away. “You did not have to come right away. It was nothing urgent.”

“I know. But I missed you too. How’s everything in Evadia?”

Vah’mor shrugged and looked back at him, moving slowly as if through molasses. “Same as always.” Along with the scent of blood in the air, the natural scent of Vah’mor’s mahee as they consumed, there was a hint of something else. D’Argen could not place it. It was a good change of topic though.

“Is that…?” he trailed off and scented the air, trying to focus on that different note that surrounded them. “Lavender?” he finished off after a moment and his eyes snapped open.

Vah’mor nodded slowly.

Tassikar. God of Indulgence. The first of them to die. Before Tassikar’s death, none of the Never Born knew that they could, in fact, die. They had been living in the mortal realm for millennia by that point and time had never touched them and no weapon could do them damage that was not easily reversed. Magic could, but the mahee protected itself and even the thought of a Never Born harming another was enough to make the mahee wipe that thought away.

And then the demons were born and they had magic, but no mahee to stop them from attacking. And then Vah’mor consumed from all of them and, somehow, they were able to use the scent of every single Never Born.

Except for Tassikar. He was dead before Vah’mor consumed from the rest.

“You were able to figure it out?” D’Argen asked, wonder in his voice.

Vah’mor hummed in agreement and nodded slowly. “Speaking of Thar,” Vah’mor said, clearly trying to return to the previous subject.

D’Argen tensed, preparing himself mentally. He was not sure what mood Vah’mor was in, whether they were secluded up here to be alone with their thoughts or only to consume the night air instead of their dinner. Thar was a sensitive topic sometimes, a completely ignored one at others, and rarely, so rare that it was always a surprise, a normal one.

“Does he have another lover?” Vah’mor asked.

D’Argen did not feel his shoulders relax even though it looked like Vah’mor would neither complain about nor ignore Thar’s existence. “I don’t know. Should I know? Why would I know?”

“You have seen him more recently than I.”

“And… why would you care?”

“Can I not be interested in what is happening in the lives of the other Never Born?”

“Not Thar, you can’t. Well, I mean, obviously you can, you just, never have been. Don’t you two hate one another?”

“Hate is such a strong word,” Vah’mor dismissed with a wave of their hand. “In all seriousness, D’Argen, I do not hate Thar. We just do not agree.”

“Uh-huh.”

“On many things,” Vah’mor conceded with a smile.

“Like what?”

“Like you.”

D’Argen narrowed his eyes before asking, “What do you mean ‘like me’?”

“I should not have said that. I apologize. Let us change the subject.”

“No, no. You said ‘me’. Specifically, ‘me’. I’m involved in this and—”

“I said change it,” Vah’mor interrupted with a growl and the lavender in the air faded away completely.

D’Argen felt like he was standing in a field of flowers under the warm sun. After a moment, he nodded, though he was not completely in agreement. “So, why do you care about Thar suddenly?” he asked, trying to sneak around the topic and still get his answers.

“Come now, D’Argen,” Vah’mor started, a smile slowly blooming on their face, “all of Evadia and most everyone beyond know you have an unnatural interest in the man.”

“That is not true!” D’Argen’s words sounded too much like a squawk that ran down the castle walls. When it sounded like it echoed, D’Argen hissed out, “I mean, that is not true.”

Vah’mor was smiling wide. Maybe not seeing Thar for a few hundred years made Vah’mor soften toward him.

“You are practically obsessed with the man,” Vah’mor said. “At least you were, last I saw you, which just so happened to be the last time you saw him. If I am to be privy to another one of your rants about him…” Vah’mor trailed off, their smile getting warmer.

“First of all…” D’Argen got ready for one of his usual rants but the mocking expression on Vah’mor’s face made him grit his teeth and shorten his already prepared speech. “I am not obsessed with him. He just interests me. Unlike the lot of you, there is extraordinarily little about him I actually know. And yes, I am including the few years we spent alone together. He is like a brick wall! Or an iceberg, more like it. Anyway. And secondly,” he quickly raised a finger to stop Vah’mor from speaking, “If, and I am putting a heavy emphasis on the if here, I were to ever become interested in him, or anybody else, in either a romantic or carnal manner, I would never be rejected.”

The snort that came from his general was so inelegant that it caught D’Argen off guard. Vah’mor was usually so proper.

“I,” D’Argen continued with a louder voice to try and drown out what was quickly turning into snickers and laughter, “am considered the fastest of us all. I am the runner, the explorer, one with the ocean, the Envoy of Evadia, the General’s right hand, and…” he trailed off when the laughter overshadowed his words.

He waited impatiently for the other to finish with crossed arms. Once there was enough silence between them, he quickly said, “anybody would be lucky to have my interests fall on them.”

“If that is what we consider luck, then we need to send Kassar to Simeal’s healing chambers for a check-up,” Vah’mor was speaking with that wide smile still on their lips. “You are aware that the runner is also known as the most annoying one and the one who does not shut up?”

“They just can’t keep up with me,” D’Argen spat out.

When Vah’mor only hummed in reply, their smile softening to something more natural, D’Argen felt his entire body relax. The scent of lavender, Tassikar’s scent, returned and D’Argen felt his entire body trying to relax and melt into the stone banister behind him.

“Did you miss me just to tease me?” D’Argen asked, his eyelids becoming heavy.

“Hmm… and to consume from you. I have missed your voice.”

D’Argen grinned and closed his eyes. “Well then, tone down on the aphrodisiacs a bit and I’ll tell you all about where I’ve been.”

Even before he finished speaking, the lavender scent in the air around them started fading. The copper of blood remained though, revealing that Vah’mor was still consuming. D’Argen relaxed his body and with closed eyes, he started talking about the last three hundred and odd years that he had been away from Evadia, away from the other Never Born, and away from Vah’mor.