Micah woke up on Ryan’s bedroom floor and blinked the ash out of his eyes. The sun hadn’t risen yet. The house was quiet. The bed empty. He stood with a yawn and wandered.

Guessing by the essences alone, nobody had come through for a bit. He awkwardly stood in the hallway until he heard a light snore from the bedroom, checked on Hannah, and checked the garden. He craned his head around out the window but doubted Ryan was on the roof.

Maybe he‘d gone for a run? If he was being honest, Micah could use one himself. It was second nature to him by now to do something with his mornings, no matter how early they came for him.

He used the bathroom, washed his face, and cupped his hands under the water to drink until he felt the bloat set in, then sat on his bedroll and went through his breathing exercises—meditation in its own right. Not everyone could be so advanced at it as Ryan.

After a few minutes, he yawned, tipped over, and curled a hand under his pillow.

Just for a moment, he lied to himself.

He fell asleep.

Waking up the second time was more disorienting because everything seemed off and he had no idea where or when he was. The day was too bright, the birds and insects were chirping up a storm, but the usual backdrop of the city noise was gone.

His body felt oddly numb and he wasn’t sure if that was good or not. His back felt off from sleeping on the floor, but it was peanuts compared to older aches he had yet to recover from.

He went downstairs and found Noelle, Ryan, and Hannah on the living room floor. She was supporting her daughter as she took shaky steps. Ryan sat across from them and held a stuffed animal out, a lanky frog.

Dishes clattered in the sink, and David peeked his head out of the kitchen. “Good morning, sleepyhead.”

“Morning. What time is it?”

“A little past ten. Sleep well?”

The first time, no. He hadn’t slept well. It was usually no. The second time had gone by in a heartbeat.

“On the floor?” Noelle added with a smile. “The couch is still yours if you want it, you know?”

Micah shrugged and mumbled, “It’s fine.”

“Well, we’re going to have a long day hitting the town today, so I hope you’re rested. Have some breakfast. We haven’t done the dishes yet.”

His stomach grumbled, hungry as always lately, and he wondered, Am I? Rested?

Strangely, yes. His body felt better than he had in months. And slowly, Micah realized what was off: he couldn’t remember the last time he had slept in.

Well, he smiled to himself, that was nice.

“Ryan mentioned. He said you had a good chance of growing out of it?” Noelle asked as she brought out her jingling keys.

The door was open. Light and wind poured in. Micah awkwardly tied his mismatched shoes on the stairs. He nodded. “I’m an [Alchemist]. It’ll heal.” One way or another.

“I’m glad to hear that.”

“And a [Scout] now, too!” David said as he joined them with Hannah on one arm. She wore a blue hat with a wide, wrinkled brim to keep the sun out.

The rest of them had dressed to beat the heat, and it felt weird to consider spending a day like this. He wore lazy clothes in the morning and evenings. What he wore underneath his armor didn’t matter because nobody could see it.

David and Noelle wore nice shirts. Ryan was Ryan. Micah felt underdressed, and it didn’t help that his bag had crinkled the clothes he had brought.

“Are you sure you aren’t going to join Ryan on his scout trip?”

“A little too late for that now,” Noelle said.

“Nah, that’s just on paper. These things can always be arranged somehow. Maybe not the airdrop but after …?”

“I’m good.” Micah shot up and wiggled his right foot. “I have my own projects for the summer and nothing against you, but I’m looking forward to going back this weekend.”

Noelle gave him a knowing smile. “I’m sure you are.”

“Ryan can tell me all about his trip afterward?”

He was outside with the baby supply bag. Noelle carried another bulky bag, though he wasn’t sure what was inside. Surprise picnic?

“I’m starting to regret it a little,” Ryan confessed. “Signing up. I’d rather be here the extra week.”

“You’ll grow sick of us soon enough. Trust me,” David promised.

Noelle locked the door and they headed for the country roads outside of Cairn for a tour of nature rather than the city.

They waved to a neighbor working on his hedges, and Ryan joined with a hesitant smile.

Hannah looked half-asleep. They were oddly quiet in the sunlight, and Micah stayed quiet as the minutes went by and his own thoughts filled his head.

Who’s that? Where do these trails lead? So do you do this often on the weekend? What are we doing after the hike? Do you have any ice cream shops in town? My sister and I made some. Have you tried watermelon? We harvested them in the Tower! I saw the recipe so I could probably make some for you. Ryan and me wanted to invite you to dinner sometime anyway, but maybe we could cook you something while we’re here instead? Or both?

Hey, are there are any windy places I could meditate at? Does Cairn have any public meditation spots? Ryan, where were you this morning? Did you go for a run? Did you see any good spots? Maybe we can jog together like we used to?

Would you mind if I practiced earth magic in your garden? I wouldn’t want to ruin the grass. Maybe I can practice someplace else. I could fill a pot with dirt. Do you have any flower pots? I could buy some and plant flowers while we’re here, and do any yard work that needs doing.

He was so used to having a tight schedule and a dozen different things demanding his attention, it felt strange not knowing what he was doing beyond this morning, and to just meander along the neighborhood in silence.

It made him nervous, like he was missing something, but it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing …?

Either way, he kept the questions to himself and enjoyed the peace and quiet as he gave the others the chance to talk.

“So we’re headed for the fields? Not an actual hike, as in forest or mountain?” Ryan asked.

“Yep.”

“Huh. And, uh … can we pass by the stables on the way?” he asked. “You mentioned you wanted to show us the horses?”

His mother chuckled and said, “Way to guess the surprise.”

“Surprise?”

“Just to be sure, but you’ve never learned to ride a horse, right?”

“Uh … what?”

Screw peace and quiet, Micah decided. “Horses?!”

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

Micah sat with a grin and black helmet high on the back of a white horse, Courtney. He and his smile bobbed a bit as she trotted a large circle around the barns.

Ryan could see it because he was at an eye level with him, on his own horse on the opposite side of the fenced-off space. Rhino was a little slower than her colleague when left to her own devices, though that suited him just fine.

The air smelled like animals, leather, mud, and horse apples—a smell most came to associate with flies because they were found hand in hand.

In its lesser form, as just a hint of an earthy smell, it reminded Ryan of his mother, because she and her work clothes had often had a hint of that scent even after a wash.

Suzanne, a colleague of his mom’s, danced between them and guided her horses and them both. She was about Micah’s parents’ age, in her fifties, with a healthy tan, greying hair, and a friendly smile.

She and his mom had given them instructions on how to treat the animals, how to approach them and speak to them, how to mount up and off, sit, what all of the equipment was.

The basics.

But once again, a different, much higher perspective gave Ryan a glimpse into a life he wasn’t sure he had wanted to see. This was what Alex, Navid, and Sion, and some of their other wealthier classmates—except Anne, whose family wasn’t good with animals—did on the days they didn’t have time to climb? They kept on saying they would see each other at the riding hall.

Even if Rhino sped up, it didn’t seem like it would be that difficult. Then again, he had thought the same about the dance lessons. Maybe Ryan lacked imagination.

With his mom’s new job, he might be able to come by more often. She had almost promised as much herself. If they sold the raincoat or he saved up, he might be able to pay for riding lessons in the city.

It wasn’t like riding horses was something reserved for the wealthy and successful. Coachmen, messengers, traders, harvesters—everyone used them.

There was no stigma if he tried. There was nothing stopping Ryan from learning if he wanted to …?

Except horses were rare in the Tower. More so than mules, hyraffes, or other mounts. Most floors weren’t suited for them and if they were, training a horse to brave the Tower was an investment.

While healing potions for animals existed, they were more expensive—added onto the costs of owning and caring for an animal.

Then, if you wanted the horse to be useful, comparatively speaking—because there were many options to compare them to—you had to invest more than money. Time and effort to gain Skills and levels, so your horse could be stronger, faster, smarter, and bounce back from injury.

[Witch] familiars were infused with magic. They were far more malleable, and a horse didn’t have an advantage over, say, a giant Salamander that could run up walls and breathe fire.

It was easier to rely on summoned mounts, but then you had to pay the niche cost of acquiring them: a magic item, an ally to do it for you, or dipping into spellcrafting to learn it yourself.

If you were a normal [Rider] on a summoned horse, there was a good chance your Skills might not be as effective.

If you were a magic rider on a normal horse, the same held true.

It all went to waste when you were without one, while a high-level [Scout] could travel faster on foot than the average rider anyway.

So it wasn’t the Towers or adventure Ryan associated horses with, and he doubted he would ever become a coachman, messenger, trader, or harvester.

No, when he thought of horses, he thought of his mother, of city guards, and then of war.

He didn’t feel like a guard or mighty warrior right now, trotting a slow circle around the barn. He felt like a kid in a festival tent.

Rhino snorted beneath him and he adjusted the reigns to guide her around the bend with a smile.

… It was kind of fun though. Maybe that, and his mother’s smile as she watched from beyond the fence, was worth learning the skill on their own.

I’m surprised they didn’t complain, she was saying. If my parents had told me they wanted to go for a family walk in nature on a weekend, during summer break of all times, they would’ve had to drag me out there themselves. They just went with it.

His dad held Hannah higher to let her marvel at the horsies across the fence. And now?, he asked.

Hm?

What would you think about a family walk now?

She smiled. The weather is amazing. What do you think, Hannah? Will you go for a walk with us when you’re a teenager and we’re all old and wrinkly and have nothing better to do?

You wouldn’t say no, would you? his dad asked in a sad baby voice.

Please, say yes.

He hid behind Hannah and moved her arm for her as he spoke in a baby voice, Of course, I want to spend time with you, mom!

His mom laughed and glanced at them. Ryan made sure to look at Suzanne and nod along to make it look like he was listening to her instructions.

The barn was large. Sound didn’t travel well if you didn’t raise your voice. Horses could be surprisingly loud when all they did was trot.

Though they could sneak up on you, he knew. Especially the monstrous ones that ate people in the Tower.

As he’d leveled, trained, and fought, Ryan had learned to put aside the distractions, noise, flies buzzing past his ears, the smells of sweat, mud, and blood, the itch from his own sweat and body heat underneath two layers of armor, and instead focus on being alert.

He didn’t know if his parents realized how much he’d tempered his senses, or had had to temper them, to survive in the Tower. Or just everyday life surrounded by two hundred teenagers.

If they had, he might not have heard some conversations, about money and family issues, and disagreements that led to hushed arguments and the silent treatment before his parents made up.

They look happy, his mom said, just as he had the same thought about them.

It might be nice for them to see nature outside without something trying to K-I-L-L them for a change, his dad mused, and I doubt they get out of the city much.

They shifted when Suzanne walked up, leading Rhino by a long rope as they trotted around the curve back onto the long stretch.

“They’re naturals,” she told his parents. “Both of them. You’re sure they haven’t done this before, or have any Skills for it?”

Internally, Ryan groaned. Seriously. We haven’t even been here for half an hour. I’m not doing anything!

He was growing to despise hollow flattery. People just assumed things and blinded themselves to how much of a fuck-up he really was.

Rhino snorted as if in agreement, and he gave her another pat, making sure to keep his posture and the reins steady as to not speak gibberish while he did it.

“No Skills, but Ryan’s a [Scout]. Well, he’s a higher level in [Fighter]—nine,” his mom said as if it were impressive, “and a bit of [Mage]. He’s hoping for [Ranger] this summer.”

Something squirmed in his chest. It would be so easy to let the comment slide but …

“Really,” she went on, “it’s probably his Path. It has a lot to do with animals.”

“That’ll do. Otherwise, I would have thought it ran in the family.”

Ryan perked up. As in, he was like his mom?

She brushed the compliment aside. “If anything, I get it from him. After Ryan got his Path, I started paying more attention to animals for his sake and …” She swayed as if to say, One thing led to another.

“Ah.”

Oh.

Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

He sighed, a little like one of Rhinor's snorts himself. All he had from his mom was his hair color and even that wasn’t a perfect match.

“And the other one?” They glanced at Micah as he and Courtney reached the edge of the far bend. She was picking up speed, and Ryan realized it was probably Micah’s fault this entire time. The horse had picked up on and went with his excitement.

“Micah? He’s an [Alchemist]. But he has a warrior Path if I remember right. Warriors do well with horses, don’t they?”

“You bet. So if you wanted to sign him up, we do have that riding club I mentioned, Noelle …?”

His parents looked up as he rode up, and Hannah lifted her arm to reach out for Rhino. His dad gently guided her back.

Ryan agreed. He’d seen Rhino nibbling on some rope earlier and wasn’t sure if he trusted her around his sister, even if she was being trained for mounted guards.

“We’ll think about it, but he’s only here for a few weeks. This is nice. Thanks, Sue.”

“Happy to help.”

“I’m level ten, actually,” Ryan commented as they walked by.

“What, in [Fighter]?” his dad asked. “You leveled up?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you say you leveled up?!” Micah yelled over. “When?”

“A few weeks ago. After the stoneskin potion!”

“You didn’t know?”

His mom glanced at him. “He didn’t know?”

“But—” Micah shifted and Courtney sped up. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Or mention it in your letters?” his dad added.

Ryan shrugged and urged Rhino to walk faster. “Didn’t seem important. I didn’t get a Skill.”

“At level ten?” his dad asked. “Is that normal?”

“I mean, it can be,” his mom said. She sounded hesitant, though he couldn’t see her face as they walked away. He was headed out of earshot.

He already wished he hadn’t said anything. They were making a fuss over nothing.

“Oh!” Micah said. “What if you’re like, saving up your levels for a super awesome Skill!”

“Saving up?” his dad sounded bemused. “Is that how it works?”

“Again, it can be,” his mom said with a smile in her voice.

It was. Ryan remembered Anne and Micah’s conversation and … he hadn’t considered that aspect. Huh. He was going to lose levels when he consolidated, so it didn’t really matter. Unless he received a Skill that let him think in peace, Ryan didn’t care what he got.

He wasn’t excited about Skills anymore, the same as how he wasn’t excited about books or waking up in the morning. But if it made his parents happy …?

He glanced back. They were smiling. Micah had gotten them excited again.

Ryan put on a smile and led Rhino around, asking, “Yeah? So what’s a cool upper-lower-tier [Ranger] Skill I could get?”

“I mean, if you want to learn how to ride a horse,” his dad gestured, “maybe one that magicks you a horse?”

“Very imaginative,” his mom said. “If I had to pick something for you, I’d want you to have an adaptive learning Skill, Ryan. Like my [Quick on the Ropes], but for [Rangers]? It’s one of my weakest and most useful Skills.”

Ryan listened because even he didn’t even know all of the Skills his parents had. Dimly, he remembered pushing up onto his toes to read a Proof Of paper on the table his dad had had made for a job application when he’d been little. That was long ago.

“And it looks amazing on a resumé,” Sue commented as she helped him guide Rhino over.

“A proper experience booster would probably be too much to ask for, huh?” his dad said. “Do those even exist, or is that a tall tale I got scammed into buying?”

“They exist,” his mom said. “We— Hadica has that famous inn, remember? The Titan’s Board. There was that huge debate when the city expanded its property lines to let them add more rooms for high profile guests.”

“Ah?” he said, and Ryan wasn’t sure his dad knew the story. “Maybe an exercise booster instead? To cut down on workouts. Gives you more time to spend with your friends or studies.”

[Exercise Booster: Bodyweight] was a common enough Skill for fighters and athletes. He had known a few guys at the old school he went to for afternoon lessons who had it.

Micah sat upright in his saddle and watched them like a bottle about to explode. The moment there was a lull in the conversation, he burst out, “Ryan is already awesome at picking stuff up! But what about a compass Skill? Jason mentioned; there are good ones like an upgrade of his [Find Water] that can show you all sorts of stuff, like treasure or danger—”

“I don’t know about a Skill that points you toward danger,” his dad said. “Although, you could use it to walk the other way …?”

He glanced at him, and Ryan gave an awkward smile. “Sounds useful,” he said, a lie of omission.

If Ryan had a Skill that pointed him toward treasure, of course he would follow it. He could earn a bunch of money to send to his parents, but they didn’t have to know that.

“Skills are great,” his mom said and got a boot up in the fence, “but there’s nothing better than learning actual skills. How about we try out a canter and then I teach you how to take care of your horses?”

“Yes, please!” Micah sounded genuinely excited. He was oddly tidy, Ryan knew, and had that cleaning Skill. He supposed this was right up his alley.

His mom hopped down and prompted him, “Ryan?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah!” he remembered to answer. “Sounds fun.” This time, it wasn’t a lie.

The first two days went by in a blur and only slowed when his parents went back to work.

His dad was around more often because he worked part-time, but his schedule was erratic and he was sometimes absent until late in the evening.

They didn’t mind much—they could stay up late since they were on a vacation of sorts—but it was at the same time somewhat lame and reassuring. It reminded him of home, of breakfasts spent together and dinners he looked forward to.

Micah and he did chores, helped around the house, and checked off shopping lists. Since his parents were spending most of their free time with them, they couldn’t do those things themselves.

He spent time with his sister, sitting together on the soft, toy-covered carpets of her room or the living room. His mom said she might speak her first words or take her first steps soon—where ‘soon’ meant a few months.

Micah was leaving in two days. Ryan would leave afterward and he wanted to be here to see those moments, though he knew it was impossible. He was impatient to see her grow up.

If he could include her in his [Pack Aura] to make her stronger—but he knew that was a stupid idea.

People were told to avoid using Skills directly on children before they were old enough to have their own. Unless, of course, you were a teacher, a dentist, or some kind of other specialist. It could affect them in unexpected, and usually stronger and unhealthy, ways.

Similar to alchemy or spells. Micah told him children had weak spirits and patterns, so a simple potion could overwhelm them and mess with their development or health.

The most common example was a child growing up short after healing a wound with a potion, or having issues with scars hurting as they grew.

He definitely didn’t want that for his sister, and didn’t want to cheat those moments. He wouldn’t want to push Hannah to walk before she was ready. He wouldn’t want to push her at all. She could be whoever she wanted to be.

Still … “Hurry up, will you?” he mumbled quietly so the others couldn’t hear him from the patio.

They had put some chairs out and talked about getting a bench swing. His parents were having a beer at sunset.

He could smell it from here, the smell of beer and nature, a grill in the distance on the warm wind as the sun set—it made him want to drink one himself.

They hadn’t gone to any clubs and probably wouldn’t, and he was watching over his sister so that wasn’t an option anyway.

You have to grow up to be there for mom and dad, okay? he thought at her as if she could somehow understand him.

Micah slipped back inside and dropped on the carpet. “Hey, Hannah? Wanna’ have a castle building contest?”

She stared at him when he appeared all of a sudden, flicking her arms out to steady herself as she leaned back with wide eyes.

Ryan had her.

Then she leaned forward, hands on the ground—her way of saying she wanted to go somewhere—and squirmed away as he let go. She crawled toward the kitchen and ignored them.

“… hey?” Micah mumbled in a tiny voice.

“She probably wants to go see our mom and dad.”

“Aw.”

His sister could be surprisingly quick when she wanted to crawl somewhere, like a turtle, but that wasn’t always safe. And she couldn’t get past the door on her own.

Now for the difficult part.

Ryan walked over, and she paused and looked up at him as he reached down. She giggled in a high-pitched squeak as he lifted her tiny, fragile form, one arm for her to sit on, the other supporting her back.

Inside, he screamed. Alarm bells ringing, shrill whistles blowing. He forced himself to take steady steps and joined his parents outside, mimicking bird songs to amuse her along the way.

Sometimes, she liked to pat his cheek as if to check he didn’t have a bird trapped in there.

He must have done it right because thankfully, Hannah didn’t cry, or barf, or poop on him this time.

“She wants to be with you,” Ryan said and deposited his sister on the nearest lap, his mom’s.

“I heard giggling,” she said and held her so Hannah could stand on her leg, “are you sure she doesn’t want you to hold her?”

“I’m good.”

Ryan had no idea how his parents had done this when they were his age, and he had been a baby they’d had to care for, protect, and nourish while his mom was in school. They were amazing. He would have died of anxiety.

Then again, I’m never going to have kids. The thought was morbidly reassuring, and depressing all the same.

“Are you sure? You look a little sad.”

“Just … you know, I’m always afraid I will drop her.”

She chuckled. “Everyone does at first, Rye. You get a feel for it over time, and the fear isn’t something that should stop you. If you want to hold her, you can.”

“Besides,” his dad said, “children are more durable than you might think. So what if you drop them once or twice?”

Ryan stared, and his mom turned to face him.

“I’m joking, I’m joking!” he laughed. “Mostly.”

Hannah babbled something in a high-pitched whine and flicked her arms again. She almost fell down from the force of it and stared at their mom.

“Yes, I see you,” she said. “Did you want to say something?”

She repeated the phrase, and it sounded like a wordless question … or a demand. She looked around as if searching for something.

Ryan guessed, “Maybe she wanted me to bring her frog?”

It was her favorite, apparently.

“Or maybe she wanted us to come back inside and play?” their dad said. He leaned forward to push himself out of his chair with a groan.

Oh. That made sense. If she had seen Micah come back, and thought their parents would follow …

“Also, Micah didn’t tell me to ask,” Ryan remembered, “but he’s been wondering all week if he can try some beer.” He’d noticed his stares around dinner or when they bought groceries.

His dad chuckled and raised his voice as he stepped inside, “Of course, Micah can have some beer!”

“Huh? I didn’t say I wanted—!”

“Ryan blabbed.”

The door shut and Ryan lingered. “Need help getting up?”

“I’m not that old, Ryan, but thank you.”

The bottle plopped open, and Ryan found his dad pouring a glass for Micah in the kitchen.

“Here. I’ll split a bottle. You get … two-thirds-ish of one and can drink it slow, okay?”

Micah nodded.

“And don’t tell your parents about this.”

“Of course, not,” he said in the same tone that said, I’m not stupid.

His dad smiled and looked at him. “Ryan, can you get another one from downstairs? Two?” He held the glass a little higher and gave his mom a questioning look as she came inside. “Two.”

“Sure.” He went down the spineless steps, ducked his head, and went past the crib he’d bought to the icebox where the room grew colder.

The rocking chair was still upstairs, with a quilt thrown over, but his parents had had to switch the cribs out as the weather warmed up. It would go back up in the winter.

“I bet there’ll be all sorts of fancy cocktails at that party of yours,” his dad was saying as Ryan placed the beers down next to them.

Micah took a sip, made a face, and took another. “Probably? We’re only supposed to be there for a few hours. Then we leave.”

“Before the adults all get drunk?” his mom asked.

He shrugged. “Iunno. It’s the Registry’s ball. The hosts are all librarians and census takers.”

“Yeah, but the guests are rich and famous,” Ryan spoke up. “The Registry represents our sum knowledge of us. It’s kind of big deal, Micah.”

He shrugged again and held his beer as carefully as he would hold Hannah, following him into the living room.

Two more bottles plopped.

Ryan knew Micah had two modes of dealing with important information: either he panicked, or he minimized, sometimes not thinking about things at all. He couldn’t tell which one he was going through right now but with Anne in the picture …

Micah sat on the couch and took a longer sip of his beer.

Yeah, seems about right.

“Bottle or glass?” his dad asked.

“Glass,” his mom said. “Thank you.”

“Ryan?”

“Uh, bottle.” He went with it.

“No, I meant, maybe you can pilfer some of those fancy drinks at that party,” his dad picked the conversation back up as he walked out. “Especially if there’s an open bar. Stealing a bottle of something was almost like a rite of passage when we were young.”

Micah nearly choked on his drink and shook his head. “Ms. Denner would kill me.”

“So what, your only purpose is to show up and look pretty?” his mom asked.

“Basically. This is super important to the school and Ms. Denner though. We’ll dance, she will introduce us, and then we have to mingle and answer any questions the guests may have, if they acknowledge us at all.”

“ … answer them in a way that makes your school sound great?” his mom added.

“Yes?”

Ryan awkwardly sat on the opposite end of the couch and sunk into the cushion staring ahead.

He had sat on couches before, of course. At his friends’ houses, Prisha’s place, Lisa’s. The school even had some, though it was hard to get a seat. The Registry did and they were comfortable but stiff, meant for lounging during work.

He had never sat on a couch at ‘home’ before, if this place could be called home. It was nice.

Hannah turned to him, and his mom said, “That’s it. Off you go …!” She lifted Hannah over the gap between sofa and couch and set her on Ryan’s lap.

“Nonononono—!”

Hannah hugged him to steady herself.

“There.” Their mom smiled. “Consider it practice for when you have your own kid.”

Ryan’s voice cracked without saying anything and it made a squeaking sound. His expression twisted as he swallowed past a painful lump and looked at her.

She laughed. “Don’t look at me like that, Rye. Not now, of course. In ten years or so, further down the line.”

Micah had his legs crossed up on the couch and he leaned forward to look past him. “You want grandkids?”

“Ten years. Twenty,” his mom repeated herself. “Sure.”

“Closer to twenty,” his dad said with a tempering tone. “Finish school first, Rye. Go to the next Registry’s ball in another ten years. Hey, maybe you’ll meet your wife there?”

And how am I supposed to get invited?

He focused on his sister rather than the pain in his chest, combing her thin hair back as he helped her settle in.

Micah had two ways of dealing with important information. Ryan had two options: he could react, spiral into his own thoughts, and excuse himself in a moment to crumble on his own, or if he wanted to stay with his family, he had to pull back and just … think of nothing at all.

Or try, at least.

“It’s a sad thing your schedule didn’t work out this time. You sure you don’t want to go back for a few days and somehow … arrange it after all?”

“This isn’t like the scout camp, dad,” he said without looking, “you had to sign up in advance and go to weeks of dance lessons. There were a limited number of spots. I didn’t want to steal one.”

Not that I could have attended anyway after I fucked up the final exam. Do you even realize?

Shut up, he hissed at himself.

“Micah went.” He nodded up at him to distract them.

“Yeah, so do you know all the dance moves now?”

“I know the basics of a few, and then a choreography for a larger thing for the event.”

“Like what?”

“Uhm, like … a simple three-step waltz for the usual music. I can, uhm … show you? If it isn’t too lame.”

“Sure,” his mother encouraged him, and Micah hopped onto the carpet. He held his arms up to adopt a familiar pose and counted, “One, two, three,” as he walked alone without music.

This house was larger than their home had been, and his parents still didn’t have much furniture. He could go through the steps a few times before he had to turn on the spot.

“Like this.”

“Oh, we know that one.”

“The music is like a da da derrn da, dadadada derrn da; da da derrn da, dadadada derrn, duh derrn, duh dernnn …”

And then the soft oboe would come in. Ryan recognized it even as Micah murdered the notes. He was actually a decent singer, he knew, he was just being an idiot.

Hannah watched and swayed, and he didn’t know if it was because she wanted to run from the dissonant noise or join.

“It’s been a while,” his mom gave his dad an uncertain look, “but we can still do that, right?”

“Of course,” he scoffed.

They stared at each other for another moment, his mom took a sip of her beer, then got up.

His dad sighed, rolled his head across the back of the sofa, and sunk with a smile as if to say, Do I have to?, but followed her lead anyway.

They looked at Micah as he walked the steps, easily found each others’ hands, and copied him.

After a moment, Micah stepped back. Ryan had thought he might teach them, as he had taught him, but they had it on their own. A simple three-step back and around to absent music.

It wasn’t perfect. It was casual, but they seemed to enjoy it, and created the wonder on their own.

His sister and he watched as the sun set. The room grew darker. Eventually, their parents paused and glanced at them.

“What, are you feeling left out? You can join in.”

“ … I’m good,” Ryan said.

“Hannah looks like she wants to dance,” his dad said and plucked her off his lap. He held her on one arm against his side and held her other hand in his, twirling in slow circles.

“Ryan. C’mon,” his mom said and pulled on his arm. “It’s easy!” He let her pull him to his feet.

“Ryan’s a natural!” Micah said.

Shut up, he thought without any force behind it. He didn’t want to be cranky around his parents. He wouldn’t want them to think something might be wrong.

“Really?” She sounded curious about that. “I thought you didn’t attend the lessons?”

“Micah taught me some,” Ryan mumbled. “I can practice on my own. It’s fine.”

“Show me.” She found his hand and his shoulder and pulled him into the simple three-step. He began to lead.

“Look at you! It’ll be a nice surprise for your bride someday, if you already know how to do this formally before your wedding.”

“Oof,” his dad said to their side and cupped a hand to his chest. Hannah giggled as he twirled away as if to hide his pain.

“You didn’t know how?” Micah asked, leaning on the armrest.

“Nah.”

“I didn’t either,” his mom looked away to comment as they didn’t stop. “Not really. We learned it together for our wedding and we were both horrible at first, but it was fun. We were horrible together.”

She didn’t stop dancing as she spoke, and Ryan focused on making sure he wouldn’t step on her feet.

“That’s awesome,” Micah beamed.

When he wandered by again, his dad joked, “I didn’t think I was bad. Her, though?”

His mom chuckled and turned back to Ryan.

“Da da derrn da …” Micah mumbled like a soft screech. He seemed to get a clue and switched to a pure hum instead. He hit most of the right notes.

The oboe returned in his mind, and Ryan could imagine the ballroom couples swirling around and around in that eternal orbit they were caught up in …

“Someday,” his mom told him, “some nice girl is going to be very lucky to have you, Ryan.”

He pushed every other thought out of his mind and smiled. For them.