~March 18th, 140 AH~

~The Caverns, Infirmary~

Zelen watched his Gaertner work—or rather, wrap up their latest session. With practiced and decisive movements that belied her lack of official training—as well as her timid personality—Lucinia the late-bloomer put away the tools of her trade: prongs and needles that moments ago had been embedded under her patient’s skin.

He didn’t think the attention had been mutual, until the young healer mumbled without looking up, “If you’re curious about Gaertnerschaft, I could maybe teach you. Akash told me that you might have a knack for these things.”

“These things?”

“Yes. Um… how should I put it? Picking up Seher skills from outside your differentiation?” Lucinia had straightened as she tried to explain herself, but as soon as their eyes met, she blushed and looked away. “I’m sorry. It’s not my place to… I was never schooled in—”

“Who did teach you?” Zelen asked, genuinely curious. He hadn’t meant for it to be an interrogation, but the young woman evidently took it as such, shrinking further back and raising her palms before her chest, as if in a defensive posture.

“Auntie Lana,” she answered in a vanishingly small voice. “She wasn’t my real aunt, but all the kids in my neighbourhood called her that. She was a hea—a Gaertner too.”

Zelen nodded, no longer surprised to learn of more Lower Akran Sehers that had slipped through the cracks. Then he hurried to put his companion at ease, “I don’t know anything about Gaertnerschaft, but this Auntie Lana must’ve been a good teacher. And if you’re anything like her, I’d be glad to take your lessons.”

“Oh, please forget I said any of that! I don’t know what got into me. You have much more important things to do than to keep coming back here… now that your treatment is finished.”

Zelen sat up straighter. When he spoke, he found himself careful not to let any emotion show, “Do you mean to say that I’m…?”

“Fully healed, yes.” The woman nodded fervently, venturing a small smile as she did. “All the bruises are gone, and your bones are back to full strength. There should be nothing holding you back from, um, active duty. You’re… you’re discharged from the infirmary.”

Zelen sank back into his seat, feeling oddly deflated. He couldn’t quite square the news with his own reaction to it. Did his mind lag his body in readiness? Or could it be… that Lucinia the Gaertner had gotten under his skin in more ways than one?

Over the preceding fortnight, he’d spent more time in her company than he or anyone else in the Caverns might’ve expected. For in the days following Makiri Shiranui’s surprise ‘visit’, the whole of Apfel Alliance had been abuzz with anxious preparations: assigning tasks, rehearsing evacuation procedures… and gearing up for a potential raid of their own.

Yet the days turned into weeks without so much as another peep from Akropolitan forces. Anxieties shifted to speculations: had Spindrift’s attempted incursion been a one-off event, or were the Joint Forces taking their time to mount a large and decisive offensive? Both possibilities were perturbing in their own ways. But in either case, what had initially seemed to be an immediate threat soon settled into the back-burner, allowing—rightly or wrongly—Alliance members to return to a semblance of routine.

For Zelen, that routine had consisted of regular visits with his Gaertner, receiving incremental treatments on the injuries he’d sustained from his battle against—and yet another defeat to—Makiri Shiranui. That fight had meant many things to him, but he preferred not to dwell on it too much.

Especially not on the fact that the worst of his injuries had been at the hands of a different Shiranui.

His visits to the infirmary had been mostly pleasant if somewhat dull. Lucinia Mauri was one of the few people in the Caverns that asked very little of Zelen, mostly because she was too timid to. Her company, therefore, represented the rare few times in a day where he could be alone with his thoughts—somehow more alone than if he truly were by himself.

A ready-made excuse. An accepted place of escape. Why did that concept strike him as oddly familiar? In any case, as the days wore on, and as he grew more accustomed to Lucinia, he found himself taking longer and more frequent naps in her presence. He was always so tired… and he somehow slept better in the infirmary than in his own cot.

To think that was all coming to an end. All thanks to the fact Lucinia had performed her duty well. It was time for him to return to his own duties. Back to reality. Back to—

“Did you know that you talk in your sleep?”

Zelen’s eyes snapped wide open as he fixed them upon the young Gaertner, who shrank back slightly under the abrupt intensity of his gaze.

“Truly?” he rasped, suddenly hoarse. “Did you… could you make out what I was saying?”

Lucinia shook her head, frowning. For reasons not entirely clear to himself, Zelen felt another pang of disappointment.

“I spoke too softly then?”

The woman considered this for a moment. “Sometimes. But other times, you spoke clearly enough. At least as far as I could guess.”

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

“Guess?”

“Guess. Because you seemed to be speaking in a foreign language.”

Zelen was silent for some time, as the edges of a half-remembered dream blurred with the remnants of a half-forgotten past. He then asked, “Do you think… you could repeat any of it? Any of what I said?”

Lucinia’s frown deepened a touch in concentration. She was earnest in her effort to answer Zelen, undeterred by any sense of doubt about the peculiarity of the situation. For all she knew, Tetrarch heirs regularly sleep-talked in a foreign language.

“There was one phrase you repeated often. Three syllables. I think it sounded something like… near… var… near-var-nuh?”

“Nirvana. Break the cycle.”

The translation came to him in an instant, absent source nor inspiration. It was simply a statement of fact. Truths that were etched upon his bones.

“Is that what it means?” Lucinia asked, faintly smiling as though merely in idle chatter. “It’s a strange-sounding word. But also… strangely beautiful. Where did you learn it?”

Before waiting for an answer, she suddenly blushed and averted her gaze, having evidently ‘remembered her place’. She added hastily, “Forgive me. There I go, getting carried away again. Please, Master Athel—um, Zelen. There’s no need for you to stay here on my account. If you have somewhere to—”

“I didn’t learn it,” Zelen found himself murmuring, as if in a trance. “I always knew it in a dream.”

Lucinia merely frowned at him, perhaps wondering if he might yet need more time in the infirmary after all. Before either of them could make heads or tails of their strange conversation, however, they were interrupted by loud footsteps from the adjoining hallway.

“There you are!” The panting figure of Feray Geyik burst into the room. “Why am I always the one running to fetch you, huh? Did you forget we have a town hall today?”

Zelen jumped off his seat, fully alert in an instant.

“I’m sorry,” he said and meant it. “I must’ve lost track of time. Have they started already?”

Without me was unspoken but well-understood by the Jaeger-turned-messenger.

“Not yet, but some people are getting pretty antsy. You better haul ass unless you want them to be pissed at you before you even have your say.”

Zelen hastened to follow the Jaeger’s advice, but as he reached the door, he turned back to his erstwhile sleep-talk confidant.

“Akash has probably already told you,” he said to Lucinia, “but everyone is invited to this town hall. That includes you. Did you want to come with us?”

Lucinia’s first reaction was to shrink back yet again, but this time, it didn’t take long for her to regather her courage. She smiled and began to say, “I would if you’ll have me. Let me just—”

“Hold that thought,” Feray cut in, surreptitiously nudging Zelen toward the door as she did. “Sorry, Lucinia, but we’re in a bit of a rush. We’d love to have you at the town hall, but finish up what you need to do here first, then join us on your own time, alright?”

The young Gaertner looked stricken for a moment, before nodding in dutiful acquiescence. “Ye—yes, of course. I will—”

“Thanks,” Feray said curtly, then all but pushed Zelen into the hallway.

The Jaeger sped through the building, about as fast as her stocky legs could carry her. Zelen had to quicken his own pace to keep up. As soon as the pair were outside, Feray rounded on her charge with a reproachful glare.

“Just what do you think you’re playing at, lover boy?” she demanded.

Zelen blinked, then stammered, “Erm, what do you mean?”

“Give it a rest, you can’t fool me! I know you’ve been visiting the infirmary for legit reasons, but that shit back there? With the heart-to-hearts and dreamy looks? Don’t know about you Tetrarchy, but in my neck of the woods, we call that shit sus as fuck.”

Zelen chose not to answer, suddenly afraid that he’d only further upset his Jaeger companion. He wasn’t entirely clear what had set her off in the first place.

“I get it, man, I was your age not that long ago. I know you’re young, dumb, and full of cum, but you gotta realize there’s a right way and a wrong way to go about these things. Especially for you, considering your position and the fact you’ve been engaged for pretty much your whole life!”

Still, Zelen didn’t speak, though the picture was starting to clarify itself. In his defense, he really did view his sessions with Lucinia as purely a form of escape, though he sensed that Feray wouldn’t take kindly to that as a rebuttal. And perhaps… his persistent need for escape was the crux of the problem…

“Did you know,” Feray continued, still steaming, “that this pre-arranged marriage stuff… this decades-long engagement… it’s not natural. It’s not the way things used to be, back in Old Earth days. Young people back then kept things simple—or more complicated, depending on how you look at it, I guess. You like someone, you fuck, and if you can still stand the sight of each other afterwards, you think about maybe making it into a permanent arrangement. And do you know how I of all people know any of this stuff?”

Zelen frowned for a second, taken aback by what seemed like a riddle with no clues. Then the answer dawned on him, and he gulped before venturing, “Did… did Asena tell you?”

“Yes! She’s one of the weirdos who likes to read Old Earth books, even the pulpier ones that talk mostly about young people fucking. Good, you at least know something about your fiancée! The way you two go on, people would be forgiven for thinking you were complete strangers. Now, ponder some more, lover boy. Why do you think Asena told me about the way marriages used to work on Old Earth? Why do I know more about her than you do? What’s wrong with this picture, huh?”

The picture was clear now, and Zelen had to agree with his angry companion. Because the picture was wrong—in all the ways he understood, and in more ways he didn’t. As he pondered the question, the blackness within his chest stirred again, the patterns of its agitation more indiscernible than ever—as the edges of half-remembered dreams fused with the remnants of half-forgotten pasts.

There was something he was forgetting. Something he needed to remember. Someone. Someone that was important to him—in simple ways, and in more ways that could only overcomplicate matters.

“You owe it to Asena,” Feray Geyik continued in a calmer tone, evidently having taken Zelen’s reticence for contrition, “and you owe it to yourself… to figure this shit out, and for good. I’m not gonna tell you who to fuck or marry… but you need to know that there are real stakes to your decisions and indecisions. Feelings you might hurt. Friends you might lose forever, before you knew just how much you cared about them. Believe me, I—”

The Jaeger cut herself off completely then, as the two of them arrived at their destination. The concert hall was full—or as full as it was ever going to be. And all eyes, including Akash Varana’s upon centre stage, turned to Zelen as he made his hasty entrance.