“This one?” Reial asked.

“No, th’ one oan th’ right!” Kaval stressed.

“They look the same though.”

“Trust me!”

Reial frowned and took another step up the tree. The branches were odd, in that they were only at the very top of the tree and not spaced out across the trunk like a redwood. Bulbous starry-blue fruits hung from the innermost sections of the branches, swaying in the light breeze. He grabbed a hold of one and pulled it free with a snap.

“How many of these do you need again?”

Kaval hummed loudly. “Two will dae.”

Reial nodded and round the length of the trunk. To him, it felt as if he were still walking on solid ground. He inspected the starry-blue fruits and then glanced at the one in his hand. What made it more special than the rest? Was it because Kaval thought they were better or was there an actual science behind his reasoning? Reial discarded the thought as he snatched another fruit from the tree.

He hopped off the trunk, performing a lazy flip that would have certainly ended up with him slamming face-first into the ground if it wasn’t for him being a Veil Strider. Space bent, continuously pushing him up as if he were falling into the sky. When he felt the familiar pull of the earth, his boots touched the ground, firmly rooting themselves in the one place he could call home. Yushiloc.

Kaval grinned at him. “Oh! That’s so strange, innit?”

“What is?”

“Ye know, what ye did. Looked lik' ye wur falling up, kinda lik' a glider when they lift aff!”

“Really?”

“Have ye never seen one before?”

Reial shook his head. “Can’t say that I have.”

“I’ll have tae treat ye tae a show then. Watchin’ them fly is dwelling therapeutic.”

“You don’t say.”

Kaval’s smile widened. “Ah do! C’mon then, let’s git goin’. There’s no better time tae make dew puddin than efter picking ‘em!”

With that, Kaval took the lead. Reial followed, peering down the endless flat plain with his Veil Sight. He found Charette lazing on the saddle as she stared at the small fire, which Wave prodded at with the end of his tail. Seeing her like this drained him of any hope. She just looked so…empty. Like nothing even mattered anymore.

“So, what’s th' weather lik' whaur you’re from?”

“It’s cool all year long. Except for the summer, though I guess that can be said for pretty much any northern state.”

“What’re yer thoughts oan storms?”

Reial wrinkled his nose. “Too loud and wet.”

“They are, aren’t they? Big, rumbling, brooding blobs. They’re kinda lik' ye when ye stare aff intae space.”

Reial’s cheeks flushed with warmth. “Really now?”

Kaval chuckled. “Ye can say that a storm is a lot lik' a person. It's hard tae chaynge thair minds and predict thair patterns. Maybe they might listen tae ye if you’re a Glider, but that’s not always th’ case, is it? Sometimes all ye can do is juist sit thare 'n' git drenched, praying ye don’t get sick. Other times, ye can learn to understand a storm. Not juist its winds, rain, or size, but th' rumble. It's bein'.”

The distant crash of thunder broke Reial from his reverence. Were the Thrasmanish always this capable of profound thought, or rather, was it his teachers’ generalization of them that had led him to believe that they weren’t?

“I, umm…what’s the weather like where you’re from?” Reial asked politely.

“A lot lik' Recunda’s. Maybe that’s why Ah lik' passing thro' so much. Because it reminds me o' mah home. Sure, th' air might be fuller, but no matter whaur ye go, th' storm’s scent always lingers. Sweet lik' sugar beans, 'n' earthy lik' th' dark-green grass o' th' highlands.”

“You make it sound like paradise.”

“Yer home doesn’t need tae be paradise for ye tae appreciate it.”

A home that was never his. How could Reial come to appreciate it? The help, his teachers, his family. They constantly reminded him of his wasted potential, of who he had failed to become.

Yet here stood a man who didn’t care about any of that. What Reial was capable of, how smart he was, his height, his status, none of that mattered to Kaval. Not when his smile rose like the morning sun, or when he spoke freely to him like an old friend. It was all so enchanting. How could Reial ever hope to match a smile as genuine as that?

What was his secret? Did he live a good life? Was it his laughter? Perhaps the companionship a dragon brought? Or was it the simple pleasure of aiding those in need. What if… Reial glanced warily at Kaval. Could he bring himself to pry into his being? Experience all of his hurts? His dreams. His failures. No, that was too personal. Even doing that to his sister was going too far.

Linithesis hummed approvingly. “Wise choice. It’s best to learn naturally than to try and take everything in, lest it destroys you.”

“We’re back,” Kaval announced as he entered the camp.

Charette lifted her head and put on a small smile. “Great, I was starting to get hungry. What’re you making again?”

“Ah told ye what ten minutes ago.”

“Ten minutes is a long time!”

Kaval shrugged. “All right, today we’ll be having dew stew. Rhymey wee treat that can git anybody thro' th' day. Oan accoont o' all o' its sugar. A guid first meal, aye?”

Reial and Charette perked up simultaneously. “You’re going to make candy?”

Kaval smiled. “Something lik' that! Ye should already be familiar wi' it, it's a common dessert if you’re from th' mainland. Don’t know what they ca' it whaur you’re from, but it’s a warm saucy puddin wi' cinnamon dew slices.”

“Oh, you mean Uvan’s delicacy?” Charette clarified.

“Yup! That one.”

“Huh, Reiyrlet’s brother must have had a fondness for that ‘stew’,” Linithesis noted.

Reial sat down by Wave’s flank as he watched Kaval gather several pots and ingredients from the dragon’s larger saddlebags. The campfire sat in the center of a mechanical construct, running on either fossil fuels or Essence from the looks of it. Two claws on either side of the device clutched the pots he placed over them, holding them in place as the fire slowly cooked the ingredients.

EBMs were convenient, but there was just something more authentic about watching his food being made. Whether the resulting dish tasted better or worse was something else entirely. Not that he was a picky eater, but if a tangy dish tasted sourer than it was supposed to, it’d immediately go to Scorch.

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

That reminded him.

“Kaval?” Reial called.

The dragoon looked up from the pot he was stirring. “Yeah?”

“How exactly do you know where to go?”

Charette shifted in her spot audibly. “Yeah, how do you know where we’re supposed to go? On top of that, where are we even going?”

“Right? The Courser didn’t leave any clues lying around, he just left. Unless we’re taking an educational guess, I don’t think it’s a good idea to wander around until we find him. He’s a Veil Strider after all.”

Kaval scratched the back of his head. “Och, aye, aboot that. Ye know how th' spires ur usually bustling wi' dragons?”

“Yes.”

“Well, we hire a select few Seers tae keep an eye oan th' streets. They report back any suspicious individual’s 'n' Striders. For public safety, o' coorse.”

Reial frowned. “Not all Striders are dangerous.”

“Ah know they aren’t, neither ur Gliders outside our organization or Trancers, but it's guid tae be safe. Reign in possible suspects, ye know?”

“So, you have these in every one of your spires?” Charette inquired.

“Yup. They’re not much o' a secret, but most fowk tend tae forgot they even exist sometimes. Maybe it's juist because they’re Seers.”

The thought tickled Reial. He didn’t understand why Veil Seers were such an underappreciated minority. Sure, they lacked the vastly superior capabilities of their distant cousins, but their unparalleled sight was useful for warning others of danger. Whether it be from animals, nature, or people. Any Strider, Glider, and Trancer can lay claim to the power as well, but they were nowhere near as practiced as a full-on Veil Seer. He only knew that because of…because of…

It was a starry night, one where the constellations were visible to the naked eye. Jadica and the green-eyed youth sat on either side of him, pointing at the endless pinpricks of lights in the sky as a distant massive cloud loomed over. He had never seen anything of its like before. The singular solid shape, the silvery outline of its surface. Could it be…? The man exclaimed as he spotted a major constellation, only to be corrected by Jadica, who’s amber eyes glowed with a distinctive energy. She explained that he had spotted the minor constellation, not its larger sibling. How either of them could make out anything in that clustered void was beyond him.

“So where was he last seen then?” Charette inquired.

“Heading south from th' looks o' it. Seers don’t usually travel outside o' city limits, so we keep a netwurk o' informants active at all times. Y’know, other towns 'n' such.”

Reial pressed the back of his head against Wave’s cool scales. “I wonder how far he’s planning on traveling.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because I don’t want to keep you from doing your job.”

“Rail, helping others is ma jab. Ah don’t care if he goes all th' wey tae Mirsey 'n' back, I’m going tae keep mah word 'n' get yer drog back.”

Reial anxiously plucked a blade of grass from his side. “Mirsey and back is a long way.”

Kaval smiled. “Maybe it is, but it doesn’t matter how long it takes us tae get thare, juist as long as we do.”

That smile, that dwelling smile. It was just like hers, just like Jadica’s. Warm, soft, yet somewhat brighter, like whatever hurt him hurt Kaval as well. He didn’t want to see it; he didn’t want to be reminded of what he had left. Reial tore the blade of grass in two and picked another one, before releasing it to the wind’s grasp.

“That sounds a lot like something Vaes himself would say,” Charette noted as she hung her front half off of Wave’s flank.

“Really? Ah never knew he was such a well-spoken man.”

Charette cocked her head. “I can’t tell if you’re complimenting him, or yourself.”

“Why not both? Always gotta give credit whaur it's due.”

Reial and Charette let out a breathy laugh. It wasn’t wrong to compare oneself to an Empyrean, everyone was born with the capacity to be just as great as them. The problem stemmed from just how many failed to reach that peak. In that sense, divinity wasn’t based on the Almagest’s or Solvaylius’s favor, but rather one’s personal attributes and strengths.

Linithesis’s presence burned in his mind as Kaval began drowning the slices in the sugary sauce. “Would you mind if I stole your senses for a moment?” He asked hungrily.

“That sounds horribly insidious, Linithesis.”

“It’s not, I’m simply starving for a taste.”

“You don’t even have a body!”

“Correction, I do. Yours.”

“Why do you need my permission then? I thought we shared thoughts and experiences.”

“We do but prying into your senses without your expressed permission would make me no better than a beast.”

Reial’s thoughts came to a grinding halt. “How self-aware are you again?”

It baffled him that a Pneuma, a divine creature often preached about in the Imminent’s Travel, one who’s abilities knew no bounds, could be so-

“I’d stop there if I were you,” Linithesis warned.

Reial froze. “Why? What’re you going to do?”

“Nothing. I just told you to stop and you did.”

A twinge of disappointment tugged at Reial’s heart. He should’ve known better than to expect something from someone as elusive as Linithesis. For all he knew, the Pneuma probably enjoyed getting a rise out of him with how often he baited his thoughts. Hyvas, I wish he would stop doing that.

Charette crawled down Wave’s flank and rolled into a sitting position beside Reial, a skill she had honed to perfection after all their years spent in the Aunesfernish wilderness. The towering redwoods made for great sport on long boring autumn afternoons, or really whenever they wanted to avoid doing their homework. Jadica didn’t approve of the latter, but she was the one who technically taught them how to properly scale up a tree. He often wondered where she learned that skill. She was a proper maid, after all, or at least as proper of a maid as someone like her can be.

Mirsey, Uvandra, how far would they need to travel to corner that man? Would they even be successful once they managed to track him down? He had promised Charette that they would get their beloved companion back, but could he really keep his word when he doubted his own abilities. No, He thought. There’s another way around this. A test of arms isn’t the only solution. However, it was the only that came to mind. What more could he do?

Reial glanced down at the Absent Integrators locked around his and Charette’s wrists. Were the stories about them true? Did they truly harness Essence like a living being? It was a preposterous thought; one many would cast aside. It was due to Solvaylius’s will and the Almagest’s blessing that most living beings were capable of wielding that foreign power. The planet and all its inanimate objects were simply byproducts of creation. The fundamental force behind the Solvaylian Arts.

Why were the Absent Integrators limited in their function? Was it because of how they were designed or was it an overlooked flaw that the engineers didn’t concern themselves with? He shook his head and sighed. Whatever the answer was, it was beyond his capacity. It was a miracle in itself that devices could run on Essence at all. They had Exania to thank for that, and though he rarely thought of her, he couldn’t imagine a world without the technology she had birthed.

A tall shadow crossed his sight, prompting him to look up and find Kaval offering him a curious smile. It was almost as if he were aware of all the thoughts coursing through his mind.

“Distracted?” He asked, holding out a bowl of Uvan’s delicacy.

Reial accepted the bowl with a nod. “A little.”

“Then ye'v got th' perfect solution right thare! Nothing clears yer mynd better than a hot dessert.”

Reial gazed down at the thick warm paste the slices had been submerged in. He scooped up a spoonful of caramel, then sliced a bit off of the fruit before stopping. What a small kindness. They had only caused Kaval trouble since arriving in Endona. Even if it was a part of his job, then why did Reial feel so guilty about dragging him down with them?

Though his stomach rumbled to take a bite, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. What of Scorch? Was he being fed? Or was the Courser starving him? Why should he be allowed to enjoy himself while those he loved were suffering? It wasn’t right.

“What’s wrong? Ye don’t lik’ it?” Kaval asked. “Ah could whip ye up somethin’ else if you’d like.”

“N-No! I do! I just…didn’t want to burn my tongue”

“All right, was only makin' sure. Ah don’t want tae force ye tae try somethin’ ye don’t lik’.”

Reial offered him a small smile as thanks. He appreciated his kindness, even if his mind was whispering to him that it was all an act. That it was just a part of his job. Stop.

They were only strangers to him, children not worth remembering or befriending. Only items that would make him rise in station.

Hyvas, please.

Trophies to admire.

No, he couldn’t break, not right now. Not in front of them. He needed to function, he needed to be brave. The passing thought caused Linithesis’s presence to dim like a sorrowful ember.

“Oh, Reialurelan…”

Reial’s heart fluttered at the mention of his full name. He should’ve been angry at Linithesis for daring to utter his Asrafonian name, instead, he felt lost. Asrafon, Rei’s great last name, and the one given to the state and Empire he had once ruled. A name of power, of authority, one equivalent to that of the Empyreans, uttered by a being whose very Essence was divine.

It made him want for something greater. Whether it was a greater world, a greater self, or a greater purpose, he didn’t know.

“Eat, journeying on an empty stomach is a fool’s choice,” Linithesis advised.

“But-”

“Eat.”

Reial relented and shoved the spoon into his mouth. The smooth caramel blend paved the way to a distinct savory-cinnamon flavor brought by the dew fruit, drowning his taste buds in sugar thieves' fantasy. He was taken aback by Kaval’s culinary ability to thread a cohesive explosion of flavor without overpowering one aspect of the dish. Granted it was a simple one, but if his experience with wind instruments had taught him anything, it was that it came down to pure skill to make something simple, amazing. Were a person’s attributes similar in that regard then?

“Kaval?” Reial said.

“Yeah?”

“You’re a wonderful cook. I just wanted you to know that.”

Kaval grinned. “Nah, I’m not a guid cook. If there's one thin' Ah know, it's 'at eatin' wi' others always makes th' food taste better.”

“Can I have seconds then?” Charette inquired, waving her empty bowl.

Kaval chuckled. “Have as much as ye want.”